Former Burmese political prisoner fears for lives of those still detained
A former political prisoner who was detained and tortured for almost six years by Burma's military junta has spoken of his fears for those who are still being held if the momentum for justice is lost.
Every time Aung Khaing hears about the latest series of arrests in Burma, or the latest suspicions about the fate of those seized in the military's unrestrained crackdown in September, he is reminded of his own suffering and the unknown fate of his family.
It also takes him back to painful memories of his own incarceration at the hands of a regime known for decades of ruthless brutality that has suppressed the poor and drowned out the voices of protesters doggedly seeking democracy for their embittered country.
"I'm trying to rebuild myself psychologically but in the meantime, I'm trying to get involved in various campaigns," says Aung, who was progressing towards a successful legal career before his arrest. "Some people are too scared to become involved in politics in Burma because they don't want to jeopardise their own lives. All the civilians have a well-placed fear of the government, there is no freedom at all They want democracy in our country but to get that, you have to face the danger. I sacrificed my life for that aim, that's why I ended up in prison."
In 1993 Aung joined the National League for Democracy (NLD), the political party led by the internationally revered figurehead of democracy in Burma, Aung San Suu Kyi, elected in the annulled 1990 parliamentary elections.
Aung Khaing soon rose to become leader of the local branch, writing articles for Burmese publications, distributing informative material and speaking at public gatherings: "I want my people to be free, and the more people who know and understand politics, the more we can fight together and get rid of the military regime as soon as possible."
It was at one of the branch's public gatherings that Aung was arrested, in January 1997. The military intelligence had been watching Aung for some time in the lead up to his arrest. He was led aside by officers in civilian clothes claiming to be seeking more information about the organisation. By the time they had blindfolded him and forced him into their truck, Aung's fate had been sealed.
"I knew at that stage that my life was gone. I knew of course that I was going to face lots of horrific things and yet I wasn't intimidated, I had committed myself to the cause of human rights and so I was prepared for whatever might happen," says Aung, who with the help of the Medical Foundation for the Care of Victims of Torture, is gradually trying to come to terms with the psychological after-effects of his ill-treatment.
Aung, now 40, was held initially for two weeks in a small cell, deprived of food and water and tied to a chair. He was beaten constantly and subjected to mock drownings. He was later transferred to prison after being sentenced to ten years in prison by the junta, where the torture, including sexual abuse, continued.
Held with other political prisoners, Aung arranged and took part in several hunger strikes, as a result of which, he was interviewed by the International Committee for the Red Cross and also by senior members of the military intelligence, eager to quash his efforts to draw attention to their human rights violations.
In 2002, Aung was released, after five years in prison, because the prison was becoming overcrowded. He also partly credits his release to the intervention of Aung Su Suu Kyi, who wrote him a personal letter to confirm his status as a political prisoner.
But that was not the end of his turmoil, for he was continually followed by military intelligence officials. In 2004, he attended another public gathering where his photograph was taken and subsequently appeared in the local newspaper. As a result, Aung was forced to go into hiding: "I couldn't risk being arrested again. Last time they released me but this time they could put in jail for the rest of my life."
Aung's family paid an agent to secure his release from Burma, first into Thailand and eventually to the UK. Here, he has been granted refugee status and spends as much time as he can rallying support for fellow political prisoners in Burma.
"But I'm very disappointed about the situation in Burma now. I don't think the political conditions will be changed as we expect them to. We cannot take the regime down, the senior generals are too powerful. They only care about themselves, not the poverty of the civilians. We need to educate people still as much as we can."
In the last crackdown in September, Aung's family were placed under house arrest and harassed for knowledge of his whereabouts. He has not been able to speak to them since as all means of communication have been cut off.
"I feel very guilty. Although I'm proud of being British and thankful for the help I have been given here, I still feel guilty for my family's suffering and what they went through in helping me to reclaim my own life.
"I would urge people who read my story to use their liberty to promote ours and to promote the cause of the Burmese people who are unable to do so."
