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The World Association of Newspapers and World Editors Forum have asked the ruling military junta of Burma to immediately release U Win Tin, the journalist and WAN Golden Pen of Freedom laureate who marked his 76th birthday in prison on Sunday.

In a letter to General Than Shwe, Chairman of the ruling State Peace and Development Council, WAN and the WEF said the continued imprisonment of U Win Tin was a "deep blemish on the international standing of Myanmar (Burma) which can only be erased by his release."

U Win Tin, a founder of the National League for Democracy, has been held for 17 years in the notorious Insein prison, where nearly 100 political activists have died in recent years. The former editor-in-chief of the Hanthawaddy newspaper and winner of WAN's 2001 Golden Pen of Freedom has had two heart attacks and suffers from high blood pressure, diabetes and a prostate gland disorder.

The letter said:

"We are writing on behalf of the World Association of Newspapers and the World Editors Forum, which represent 18,000 publications in 102 countries, to call on you to mark the 76th birthday of journalist U Win Tin on 12 March by releasing him from jail.

"U Win Tin, former editor-in-chief of Hanthawaddy newspaper and winner of WAN's 2001 Golden Pen of Freedom, celebrates his 76th birthday on March 12 in Insein Prison, where nearly 100 political activists have reportedly died in recent years. He has been held there for the past 17 years. U Win Tin is in poor health. He has had two heart attacks and a hernia operation and suffers from high blood pressure, diabetes and a prostate gland disorder.

"U Win Tin, who was also vice-chair of Myanmar's Writer's Association and founder of the National League for Democracy, was arrested in July 1989, tried in a closed military court and sentenced to 14 years of prison for allegedly being a member of the banned Communist Party of Myanmar. This sentence has since been increased to 21 years in jail.

"The continued imprisonment of U Win Tin constitutes a deep blemish on the international standing of Myanmar which can only be erased by his release. Furthermore, his detention constitutes a clear breach of his right to freedom of expression, which is guaranteed by numerous international conventions and we remind you that the United Nations Commission on Human Rights considers that "detention, as punishment for the peaceful expression of an opinion, is one of the most reprehensible ways to enjoin silence and, as a consequence, a grave violation of human rights."

"We respectfully call on your government to demonstrate strength and compassion by releasing U Win Tin immediately. We look forward to hearing from you at your earliest convenience."

The Paris-based WAN, the global organisation for the newspaper industry, defends and promotes press freedom world-wide. It represents 18,000 newspapers; its membership includes 73 national newspaper associations, newspapers and newspaper executives in 102 countries, 11 news agencies and nine regional and world-wide press groups.

People in Southern Mon State and northern Tenasserim Division have been barred from using Thai made satellite phones.

Some villages in southern Ye township and Kawzar town area, Mon state were barred from using the phones. Satellite phones in Yepyu township Tenasserim division were seized.

"The authorities barred the use of satellite phones in Kawzar town. It is creating difficulties for villagers who need to contact their family in neighbouring countries who are seeking jobs," a Kawzar resident said.

In Yepyu township the military regime’s Special Police (SP) and troops seized four satellite phones on March 1.

The SP officers went to a satellite phone owner in Yapu village. "The officer asked her who has been calling her and what about. They also wanted to know where they usually called and who called her on the satellite phone." Luckily her phone was sent to Ye for repairing and she was only interrogated in Ma Khing Soe pub.

The next day the police and troops went to Kyaukadin village Yephu and interrogated Nai Kyaw Mae, an owner of a satellite phone in a similar manner.

During the interrogation in Yapu village, the SP officers explained to a woman owner of a satellite phone that they were doing it on the orders of higher authorities.

Burmese military authorities have been regularly coming down on satellite phones to restrict information flow. In the middle of 2005, the new military intelligence (Sa Ya Pha) seized some satellite phones in Mon state.

By - Zin Linn

U Win Tin, former editor-in-chief of Hanthawaddy Newspaper and secretary of National League for Democracy Central Executive Committee, celebrates his 76 th birthday on March 12 in the notorious Insein Prison, where nearly 100 political activists died in recent years. He has been languishing in Special cell No.10 for the past 17 years. He is in poor health. Urethral infection led to prostate gland disorders; severe pain engulfs him while trying to urinate and bleeding when he defecates. Yet, this prominent Burmese writer, who co-founded National League for Democracy along Aung San Suu Kyi, has not asked for special treatment, not even special diet. He is putting up with the suffering in the torture chamber, stoically.

Back to 1996, I myself was thrown into solitary confinement in the infamous dog-cell No.2 of Insein Prison. At that time, Dr. Myint Naing (MP) was in the dog cell No.1, Dr. Zaw Myint Maung (MP) in the dog cell No.3, Myo Myint Nyein in No.4 cell, Dr. Khin Zaw Win in No.5, U Naing Naing (MP) in No.7, U Tun Win in No.8 and U Win Tin was in cell No.10. We were charged with a heinous crime. It was exposing the human rights abuses being indulged in by authorities. We smuggled that report to outside world and hence invited the Junta's wrath. By the time we checked into the prison, U Win Tin was unwell. He had undergone a hernia surgery and needed treatment regularly. He was denied a daily bath. He was denied a cup of water when thirsty. He is a man of steel and never shows a sign of depression. Like him, we were also denied facility for daily bath. Even drinking water whenever we felt thirsty. That is the Junta's decree and its minions at the prisons were happy to enforce with a vicarious thrill.

Why U Win Tin was arrested remains a mystery. He was picked up on 4 July 1989 for a crime he never committed. Three months later, on 3 October, he was pronounced guilty and awarded a jail term of three years with hard labor. Subsequently, the sentence was increased by 11- years in June 1992 and by 7 years in March 1996.

On his third trial, U Win Tin was charged with smuggling out of the prison anti-junta political review and a report on human rights abuses in Burmese prisons to Mr. Yozo Yokota, the then UN Special Rapporteur for Burma.

The only outside world outside the solitary prison cell for him is the prison hospital ward, which he frequents regularly. In the recent past, he had suffered two heart attacks; he underwent two operations and has begun to wear a surgical collar for spondylitis. Most of his teeth were lost and he has no hope of getting dentures. His eye-sight has become poor; but there is no hope of new spectacles from authority.

Nonetheless, U Win Tin remains unwavering in his commitment to his ideology. The Junta had told him directly and through intermediaries that he could hope to breathe freely if he could distance from NLD. At least publicly renounce his political beliefs and sign a letter of resignation from the NLD. He listens to his interlocutors, patiently and with a smile; but offers them no reply. The offer is repeated at least once a year by the military authorities. Every time it met with the same response.

U Win Tin was born on 12 March 1930. He is single; according to close friends, he is married to journalism. He received a Bachelor of Arts degree in English Literature, Modern History, and Political Science from Rangoon University in 1953. He made up his mind to become a journalist after reading Queed, a novel by Henry Sydnor Harrison (1880-1930). He was an assistant editor of the then Burma Translation Society between 1950 and 1954, and went on to be a consultant with the Djambartan publishing company of the Netherlands from 1954 to 1957. His credentials as an editor, and literary & art earned for him a place on the Burmese Encyclopaedia Publishing Board.

A widely travelled person he had brought out Kyemon (Mirror) Daily for eleven years (1957- 1968) as its executive editor. He moved to Mandalay in 1969 to join the Hanthawaddy Daily as its Editor-in-Chief. He was with the paper for nine years till it was closed down in 1978 for publishing critiques of mismanagement by local authorities and satirical cartoons.

The military authorities suspected a clandestine correspondence between U Win Tin and Aung San Suu Kyi when he was undergoing treatment in Rangoon General Hospital. They believe he had advised the Lady to launch a civil disobedience campaign.

U Win Tin was awarded UNESCO's World Press Freedom Prize for 2000 and World Association of Newspapers' Golden Pen of Freedom Award for 2001. Last year, 55 mayors of towns all over France have signed a Reporters Without Borders' (Reporters Sans Frontieres) petition calling for the immediate release of U Win Tin. French monthly, Maires de France, took the initiative for the petition. Amnesty International's London Office has also launched a petition campaign urging the ruling junta to release U Win Tin unconditionally.

Last year, journalists and dissidents outside the country had celebrated U Win Tin's Diamond Jubilee Birthday at the Foreign Correspondents' Club of Thailand, in cooperation with Reporters sans Frontieres. Burma Media Association (BMA) brought out a special commemorative magazine to mark the occasion. The magazine featured as many as 11 articles written by U Win Tin himself and other anti-Junta journalists. In a message, Prof. Paulo S. Pinhero said: "Win Tin did not want to discuss his personal condition but wanted to discuss the human rights situation and the conditions of other political prisoners. Despite all the terrible constraints of prison, I must say that I found him very well informed and extremely lucid. He was very strong and remained committed to the cause of democracy, freedom of speech and the respect of human rights".

Aung San Suu Kyi describes U Win Tin as a man of courage and integrity. "He could not be intimidated into making false confessions. He is as clear as ever and his spirit is upright and unwavering".

Now Burma's junta is trying to deceive the International Community, especially the ASEAN, through an undemocratic seven-step roadmap. An undemocratic or pro-military roadmap will produce an authoritarian regime or a fake democracy mechanism controlled by the military council.

By detaining over 1300 political prisoners (including Aung San Suu Kyi, U Win Tin, U Tin Oo, Khun Tun Oo and 13 members of parliament), the military junta has turned a deaf ear to political dialogue and free press as well. Burma has no hope of changing into a genuine democratic federal union. Since December, the International Committee for the Red Cross (ICRC) has been prevented from visiting the prisoners, who, according to the report, are subject to ''torture and ill-treatment.'' Other allegations of human rights abuses in prison ''include food, water, sleep and light deprivation; harsh beatings; forced squatting for prolonged periods; shackling and solitary confinement.''

''No improvement; no improvement at all,'' Paulo Sergio Pinheiro (Special Rapporteur on the Situation of Human Rights in Myanmar) said on 24 February 2006 while addressing a press conference in Foreign Correspondents' Club of Thailand in Bangkok. ''The situation has deteriorated'', he declared and said his 29-page report on the plight of political prisoners will be presented to the U.N. Human Rights Commission in April 2006.

Burma's ruling military junta has announced several amnesties for political prisoners under pressure from the international community with the fond of hope of avoiding additional sanctions. U Win Tin's name has never figured in any of these lists. Last month, U Win Tin told his friend who visited him in prison not to worry about his release. "If the junta has a plan releasing political prisoners, I might be the last",' he reportedly remarked with a twinkle in his eye.

* Zin Linn: The author, a freelance Burmese journalist and ex-political prisoner, lives in exile. He is an executive member of the Burma Media Association, which is affiliated with the Paris-based Reporters Sans Frontiers.

- Asian Tribune -

Senior General Than Shwe

Chairman of the State Peace and Development Council

c/o Ministry of Defense

Ahlanpya Phaya Street

Yangon, MYANMAR

Date: 28 February 2006

Subject: Rlease of Mr. U Win Tin

Dear General Than Shwe,

On 10 December last year, the Dutch section of Amnesty International, campaigned for the release of prisoners of conscience (POCs) worldwide. One of these prisoners is Mr. U Win Tin. Hundreds of Dutch citizens expressed their deepest feelings through radio- and television messages; others signed a petition for his release. The petitions are enclosed with this letter.

On 12 March, U Win Tin will spend his 76th birthday in jail. A journalist, former editor and senior opposition party official, he has been imprisoned since 1989. Amnesty International believes him to be Myanmar’s longest-serving POC, having spent one fifth of his life in jail for his peaceful opposition to the ruling authorities and for his defence of human rights and freedom of expression. Detained since 1989, he has been sentenced three times to a total of 20 years’ imprisonment. Most recently, in March 1996, U Win Tin was sentenced to seven years’ imprisonment for communicating with the United Nations about prison conditions, torture and medical neglect, and for writing and circulating articles in prison. Your authorities, described this as “secretly publishing propaganda to incite riots in jail”. Mr. U Win Tin and others accused with him were consequently held in cells designed for military dogs, made to sleep on concrete floors without bedding and deprived of food and water for long periods. They were also reportedly denied legal representation at their trial. He has been held in solitary confinement for much of his imprisonment. He is known to have chronic health problems, which have been exacerbated by the poor prison conditions.

We urgently call upon you to engage all your good offices for the immediate and unconditional release of U Win Tin and hundreds of other prisoners of conscience in Myanmar. Having good faith in your authorities’ will to abide to international declarations and covenants on human rights and looking forward to your reply.

Yours sincerely,

Harry Hummel,

"Attacks on the Press" also notes new hot spots where serious crackdowns have been launched against journalists, including Nepal, Uzbekistan, Ethiopia and Yemen.

At a news conference, Josette Shiner, a top State Department trade expert, called the Internet "the greatest purveyor of news and information in history." Too often, she said, the flow is blocked by government censors.

China, in particular, has been accused of manipulating the Internet to abuse its citizens' rights. U.S. lawmakers say American Internet companies have given China new ways to silence dissent in return for access to a booming market. Yahoo! Inc (Nasdaq:YHOO - news)., for example, has been accused of helping Chinese police identify and convict a journalist who criticized human rights abuses.

Four U.S. Internet companies were scheduled to appear Wednesday at a House of Representatives hearing examining their business practices in China.

The State Department has formed a task force that will consider, among other issues, the foreign policy aspects of Internet freedom, including the use of technology to restrict access to political content.

Shiner said the U.S. government considers it a top priority "to do all we can to ensure maximum access to information over the Internet."

The United States, she said, has serious concerns about the protection of privacy and data throughout the Internet globally and, in particular, in China.

"The paranoia and violence of the Burmese military, especially Gen. Than Shwe, the head of the military junta, could have dramatic consequences for Burmese who dare to give information to journalists based abroad," the two organisations said. "International radio stations are often the only source of independent information for millions of Burmese, and it would do great harm if people were afraid to talk to them."

Reporters Without Borders and the Burma Media Association have gathered information about a recent series of measures taken by senior junta officials to train agents within the Military Security Force (Sa Ya Hpa) - which replaced Military Intelligence (MI) - to identify and catch foreign media informants.

A number of businessmen, journalists and civil servants have been interrogated recently by members of the Military Security Force about their role in giving information to Burmese-language radio stations. During these interrogations, the military had recordings of broadcasts by foreign stations such as Radio Free Asia and tried to get these people to admit they had talked to journalists abroad. The military also repeatedly examined their mobile phones.

Lt. Gen. Myint Swe, the military chief for the Rangoon division and head of the Defence Services Intelligence, recently organised training on the way to identify Burmese who give information to foreign news media or news media operated by Burmese in exile. Former MI officers taught Military Security Force personnel methods for identifying press sources.

According to the Independent Mon News Agency, the chief trainer was Capt. Aung Kyaw Kyaw, the former head of MI in Mon State, who got a reputation there for threatening to kill people who gave information to the foreign media.

A group of Rangoon-based Burmese journalists, including correspondents for foreign media, were recently summoned by the information ministry and asked to respond to attacks orchestrated by the foreign media. Ministry officials asked some journalists to provide a list of their contacts. The ministry also organised seminars for civil servants to train them in how to respond to "foreign propaganda," while civilians have been trained in how to identify "informants."

Several journalists in exile have confirmed to Reporters Without Borders and the Burma Media Association that the authorities often take sanctions against their sources in Burma. "It is often the case that people we talk to have their phone lines cut," one reporter said. The government has just installed two new mobile phone tapping centres in the central city of Mandalay, while the Military Security Force has stepped up control of communications in the regions bordering Thailand. Two people were arrested in the southern city of Moulmein (in Mon State) for receiving "suspicious" international calls on their mobile phones.

Amporn Jirattikorn

A former construction consultant, Saengmaung Maungkorn now devotes much of his time and energy to running a Shan-language spot on a community-radio station.

More than 200 ethnic-Shan men are incarcerated in Chiang Mai's main prison. While the bars and walls physically cut them off from the outside world, they do not prevent the inmates from listening to the radio.   Every Monday and Wednesday morning as they work or study, hundreds of Shan prisoners eagerly look forward to their lunch break when they can get together with compatriots to listen to a programme broadcast on FM 99 in their mother tongue. Although regulations forbid the turning up of radios, the inmates are allowed Walkmans. And those who don't have one of their own pair up with a friend to share the earphones. Seang Tham Hang Mai (Strong Voice, New Energy) has been on air for almost two years now so the warders are no longer curious at the sight of inmates huddled over personal stereos, eyes downcast, looks of intense concentration on their faces.

Internal conflicts, economic hardship and the dictatorial policies of the Rangoon regime have driven hundreds of thousands  of Shan and other ethnic-minority groups to flee across the Thai-Burmese border. And the pace of this emigration has accelerated over the past decade. While many of these refugees and immigrants have found low-paid work here in agriculture, construction and industry, some have ended up in jail, often for drug offences.

For years, these Shan inmates, typically serving sentences of between 10 and 25 years, had nothing whatsoever to connect them to their homes in Shan State, or even to the Shan immigrant community in Thailand. Now, thanks to the creation of the Community Radio Federation of Thailand, they have a precious link to the outside world via the airwaves.

"Greetings to all the deejays at FM 99 community radio. I want to request the song Fai Poon Lab Sing Laung Nai [On the Other Side of the Darkness].   I'm sorry that I'm writing to you in Thai because here we're not allowed to send out letters in our own language. I hope you don't mind."   -

From a Shan inmate at Chiang Mai prison

Seang Tham Hang Mai goes out three times a week on a community radio station run by Dr Uthaiwan Kanchanakamol, a former lecturer at the Faculty of Dentistry, Chiang Mai University. Now director of the Chiang Mai Community Radio Pilot Project, Dr Uthaiwan uses his own pension to fund programmes that cater to the needs of marginalised people living in Chiang Mai and its environs. The station's 18-hour-a-day schedule includes broadcasts in Hmong, Karen, Shan and Lahu.

Seang Tham Hang Mai made its debut on February 27, 2004. It is produced by the staff at MAP (Migrant Assistant Project Foundation for the Health and Knowledge of Ethnic Labourers), an NGO based in Chiang Mai whose mission is to inform migrant workers of their rights on health, labour and women's issues. The content of the programme is diverse, everything from Shan pop music and news on events in Chiang Mai's Shan community to information on entitlement to health-care facilities and the requirements for applying for work permits and other official documents.

And the audience make-up is equally diverse.

Since the station's short-wave signal can be picked up within a radius of 15 kilometres, the programme can be heard in outlying districts of Chiang Mai like San Kamphaeng, Saraphi, Hang Dong and Mae Rim. Listeners include Shan expats who work on building sites, as market vendors, in small factories, as housemaids and noodle-shop waitresses. Even the job of making and selling som tam from road-side stalls, once almost the sole preserve of immigrants from Isan, has now been taken over by the Shan; and these women, too, are big fans of the programme.

The men's prison is a mere seven kilometres from the city so the inmates there are able to pick up the station loud and clear.

Scanning the FM band on his Walkman one day, a Shan prisoner was excited to come across a broadcast in his own language and wasted no time in spreading the good news.

"The programme brings a sense of home  to people like us who not only live far away from home but also feel very disconnected from the outside world," said Sai Yee, who has already served five years of his sentence.   "Being in prison we have an opportunity to learn Thai, which is good. But all the books we read, the broadcast media we can access, the language spoken - everything is in Thai. Nothing reminds us of who we really are. This programme brings our own language back to us. Every time we tune in, we can hear listeners phoning in to talk about things which are going on within the Shan community in Chiang Mai.

"We also send letters to the programme requesting Shan songs that we haven't heard for a long time and which we long to hear again. We dedicate songs to our loved ones living outside. These things are really important to us."

The initial reception was phenomenal. After only a few weeks on the air, the DJs were flooded with letters from the jail expressing their appreciation of the programme. Since  then, Nang Seang Ou, a broadcaster from MAP, has tried to reach out to Shan prisoners as much as possible.      "They're the most silenced group in our community and I know that life in prison in very quiet and uneventful. So I always read out letters from the prison on air and try my best to give a voice to these ignored people.   "What makes me happy is that they have really become connected to their community outside the prison. Sometimes they request songs for FM 99 fans whom they have never met; they've only heard their voices and names over the airwaves. Sometimes they send in poems they written for female listeners they've fallen in love with merely through hearing the woman's voice.

"I think it's important that we help put a positive spin on a negative place."

An immigrant herself, having left her home in Hsipaw, Shan State, more than five years ago, Seang Ou fully understands the feelings of her Shan brothers and sisters who crossed the border into Thailand full  of hope for a better future.      The reality of being a member of an ethnic minority, exiled from one's homeland, unable to read or write Thai and struggling to speak it, causes many Shans to lose their sense of identity and community spirit, she said. She hopes that access to Shan-language radio will help these migrants overcome their feelings of isolation and boost their self-esteem.

Ten years ago, Seang Ou began working as a volunteer for the Burma Broadcasting Service (BBS) which allocated half an hour every day for a Shan-language broadcast from Rangoon. A week in advance of each programme, she would have to translate into Burmese everything she planned to say on air and the lyrics of any songs she'd be playing in order to get approval from the military junta's censorship board.

Now, as a community-radio broadcaster in Thailand, she enjoys much more freedom in giving a voice to the Shan community.

Seang Tham Hang Mai normally starts at 11am on Mondays and  Wednesdays, but because the bulk of their listeners are working at that time, she and her colleagues spend the first hour providing entertainment and information relevant to their audience's daily lives, especially their health-care needs. Then at midday, when many listeners break for lunch, the station starts to receive phone calls. At this point a real sense that the Shan expats are a community begins to emerges.   "They call in to talk about all the things which are relevant to their daily lives," explained Saengmaung Maungkorn, another of the DJs. "Having a programme in their native language makes people feel supported."

A Thai-Shan whose parents were born in Burma, Saengmaung played an important role in launching Seang Tham Hang Mai. Working as a construction consultant in the province for many years, he had witnessed the large-scale migration of Shans to northern Thailand in search of work.

"Travelling around construction sites in Chiang Mai, I'd regularly meet  Shan people who couldn't get information on their legal and health rights because they didn't understand Thai. This made me realise the need to establish a medium that could serve the needs of this immigrant community."

Seangmaung's knowledge of the legal and health-care system here as it pertains to alien workers, plus his fluency in both Thai and Shan enable him to better disseminate information to his listeners.      "We receive around 20 calls a day. Sometimes they just want to share what they remember about festivals they used to have at home in Shan State. Sometimes, they just ring in to ask questions about legal documents or to pass on information about traditional Shan ways to take care of one's health.

"Some people who used to work here but have since returned home to Burma remember the times that we're on air. So they ring us from Burma just to say hello to other Shans living in Chiang Mai. Others have moved to work in Bangkok but they miss the programme so much  that they, too, still call in sometimes."     

In the latest move teaching of the Mon language has been banned in the Basic Education Middle School and the Basic Education High School in Kyaikmayaw Township, according to a spokesperson of the education department from New Mon State Party.

The NMSP spokesperson said Burmese authorities don’t want to allow Mon language in the higher classes.

However, the Burmese authorities will only allow teaching of the Mon Language in Basic Education Primary Schools once for about 45 minutes a day in Kwekarit Township Karen State, the spokesperson added.

In a show of rank disrespect, Captain That Aung of the Burmese Light Infantry Battalion No-558 burnt Mon school textbooks in Sar Yar Mon village, Kaleinaung Township. He also ordered Mi Kyae Lar, a principal of the Mon National School not to teach Mon. The troops seized the Mon school and changed the school to a Burmese medium primary school.

“The Burmese government will pay for the construction of the school,” according to Ko Banya who attended the Township Peace and Development Council meeting called by the education department on November 5 last year at Kaleinaung Town.

The students were dissatisfied and about 10 students left the school because it was teaching only the Burmese language after teaching Mon language was prohibited.

“It is not fair not to allow teaching of the Mon language. Seizure of the Mon National School and turning it into a Burmese medium school is worse than not allowing the teaching of the Mon language,” said Mi Maw, a student’s mother.

It was neo-colonial Burma at its most opulent, and the expat exiles had gathered for their Friday session at the restored Strand Hotel for cocktails. Three gin and tonics later, I was jetlagged and decided to head back to my guesthouse for an early night. I said my goodbyes to the small party of diplomats, aid-agency workers and medics and stepped out into the balmy Burma evening.

It can’t have walked more than twenty paces when I was grabbed from behind, and a cloth put over my face and someone gagged my mouth. Bundled into the back of a car, I was whisked away. Too scared to scream, I was paralysed with fear, and soon realised that I should just behave. One of the men accompanying me told me not worry. After driving for a good twenty minutes, we finally stopped at what seemed, from under my blindfold, as a military checkpoint. I was then roughly pulled from the back of the car and escorted inside a building.

The blindfold was finally removed when I was sat in an interrogation room surrounded by five men. Two were dressed in slime green, and were officers in Burma’s military, and the other three were in civilian clothing. I soon ascertained that I was being interrogated by two military men, with the aid of a translator, and the other two men were probably former military intelligence who watched from the sidelines.

The uneducated Army officers’ questions were idiotic and nonsensical, and I realized my best line of defence was part-naïve-schoolgirl and part-outraged-tourist. The translator was sweet and desperately apologetic for every fumbling question uttered by the two slimes in green. I adopted an outraged-of-Cheltenham tone, and response usually began with, “Don’t be ridiculous, what are you talking about?!”

The translator and I bonded, and it was obvious he was extremely uncomfortable questioning me. The two silent, older men watched on without uttering a word, but I knew that they understood English and were bemused by my responses. Probably in their fifties, they were far smarter than the buffoons interrogating me, and I realised that I could talk directly to them. I was charming and endearing to the onlookers, while criticising my military slimes, and possibly this worked in my favour.

They were unsure whether I was a spy or a journalist. But after questioning me about the British intelligence agency MI6, my response generated smiles all round. “Do you really think that MI6 would ever recruit such a bumbling fool? I don’t even know where my hotel is.” And with that I proceeded to look in my handbag for my Lonely Planet.

It was only at that moment that I remembered that I was carrying a pile of notes from my interviews, and recording equipment and microphone. It was the only moment when panic set in, so I tied a sturdy knot in my bag and plonked it on my lap. They stupidly did not attempt to look inside. If they had, I would have been in trouble.

By 6am, the questioning was going round in circles, and I had a fantastic alibi for every question: I was a student at university, and had come to Myanmar on holiday. I even produced my student card. They realised the questioning was futile, so they put me in a cell with some other female prisoners.

The women were sweet and so caring. They were obviously concerned, but amused by my light-hearted attitude to the whole debacle. Buoyed on by seeing the delight of these brave women, I was exceptionally naughty. I started singing, “Why are we waiting” from my cell, which is particularly rebellious when singing is forbidden in prison. The women giggled with embarrassment and fear, and I can only hope they weren’t punished for my actions. But the dreadful singing soon commanded attention, and the military officials were all too keen to get rid of me.

I was finally released the next day.

All too soon, a Military Intelligence officer masquerading as an author asked if he could be my city guide. Before I knew it, I was trundling off with him for tea. He said his name was Ko Ko Latt and that he was a retired police officer turned author, he claimed to be writing a book about dogs!

Next day, he was there waiting for me inside my guesthouse. “Ah, Lucy, I’d like to invite you to a banquet with some friends of mine.”

There was no escape, and his ‘friends’ were actually eight military generals: one claimed to run the police riot squad from 1986-1994, another claimed to be CEO of a military controlled company, another owned newspapers, and another was the former military commander in Shan State, where the Burma Army is waging war on its ethnic minorities.

The Generals seemed to know a lot about my previous visits to Burma, and were all too keen to discuss extremely sensitive topics  politics, Aung San Suu Kyi, drugs, insurgency in Shan state, AIDS, landmines, and prison. Much of the information they gave me is difficult to prove, but it ranged from secret video recordings of alleged dalliances of a UN Special Envoy for Burma, to the laying of thousands of landmines in Shan State to attack ‘terrorists’ (ethnic minorities in the country). It was frightening, and I was fearful that if I spoke, I could incriminate myself. So I mmm-d a lot, and drank my bottle of water. I had been warned that I should avoid suspect food or alcohol in Burma, and today was no exception. Unfortunately Burmese custom dictates that it is very impolite not to eat the host’s food, so I was forced to nibble on a few mouthfuls.

The Burmese romantic comedy showing at the cinema was my plan of escape. Unfortunately, the generals invited themselves along too. So I and eight generals watched a painful chick-flick at the pictures, and at least I wasn’t short of a translator or eight.

After being escorted home, I lay in my bed feeling very strange. Several hours later, my stomach was cramped in knots; I was violently ill and hallucinating. I’m not sure if I was drugged or poisoned, but I was desperately ill for the following four days.

I realised I had to escape from the capital city, so I heaved myself out of bed, and booked a ticket to Bagan, a small city in central Burma. I collapsed soon afterwards and was taken to the western hospital. There I met with a doctor who had once treated James Mawdesley, the British man who chose to be imprisoned twice in Burma. Sure enough, I had been poisoned; the doctor recommended rest.

Early the next morning, I sneakily took a plane to Bagan, and managed to evade authorities for three days. My horse-cart driver would pick me up each morning, and take me off to see some of South-east Asia’s finest archaeological treasures. During temple visiting one morning, a young café owner with beaming white teeth offered me some water. As Burmese are such welcoming people, I couldn’t refuse, but all too soon his impeccable English and beaming white teeth in the land of beetle-nut stained black teeth aroused my suspicion. He was an educated member of the middle class, and therefore almost certainly military intelligence.

I rushed back to my guesthouse, and to my disgust my room had been ransacked. My papers and belongings were strewn across the floor, it was an unpleasant warning. The following days I was followed by military intelligence service (MI) officials at every turn, and my lovely horse cart driver was continually late to drive me. I soon realised his lateness was caused by the hospitality of Burma’s MIs.

Driving along an isolated dusty road one afternoon, my horse cart driver turned to me and said, “I know you’ve been in prison. And it’s very dangerous for me to drive you. So I have to ask if you will do something for me. Will you come to my house for dinner, and they will secretly film you?”  “What!” I exclaimed, terrified by the prospect of more interrogation.  “They just want to film you, in the hope that you’ll say bad things when you’re with me. But we’ll just talk about family and tourism and all will be okay. Okay? Anyway, they’ve been filming you in your hotel room.”

The thought of being secretly filmed in my hotel room was just too much to bear. I could cope with the prison, the interrogation, the poison, the cinema, the filming  but not secret filming in my hotel room. That was one intrusion too far. I agreed to dinner, simply because I knew it was the only way to ensure the safety of my horse cart driver, and those others who were so brave to help me. And the following day I left Burma.

I was the lucky one, a foreign journalist with a British passport and a wad of American dollars to buy my way out of trouble. I could only think about the fifteen journalists still in jail for simply doing their job.

Lucy Kearney

How not to end up as I did:

1) Burma is an Orwellian state, so be careful of what you say to taxi drivers or hotel staff - the people hate the government, but you never know who you’re talking to. A network of military intelligence operates in Burma; you will be surveyed and monitored from the moment you arrive.

2) Try not to arrange interviews for the first day in the country. Play tourist for several days when you first arrive in Burma  this will lull military intelligence into a false sense of security.

3) Arrange interviews with known opposition sources for your final day in Burma, that way, you can swiftly leave the country afterwards  with your notes and recordings intact.

4) NEVER under any circumstance name your source on notes.

5) Arrange alternative methods to get your notes or footage out of the country.

6) Meet sources at safe houses: in the back of restaurants, doctors surgeries, top of hills.

7) Trust your intuition, most Burmese people are so warm and friendly, that you’ll know when something is wrong. And if your intuition is sensing trouble, then get out of the situation.

8) They say walls have ears, and rooms and taxis can be bugged, so always keep an eye out for who’s listening.

9) Remember, you can leave the country, your source cannot. There are examples where a source has been imprisoned for 14 years hard labour simply for talking to a journalist. Change names and places in articles. Say Lower Burma and not Rangoon, or Eastern Burma instead of Shan State, replace nun with aid worker, and say Western diplomat instead of Ambassador from xxx country.

10) Keep reporting on Burma  it’s a fascinating part of the world and there are too many stories that journalists have a duty to expose.

"The Burmese press suffers from two major afflictions, prior censorship and the imprisonment of journalists," the organisations said. "The military junta seems bent on perpetuating these direct and indirect attacks on the right to inform," they added, calling for Than Win Hlaing's release.

The military's censorship bureau withdrew a number of New Year's greetings from the 31 December issue of the Yangon Post Journal, a privately-owned weekly, banning the messages and photos of writers and journalists, including Maw Linn, Bo Bo and Zaw Thet Htwe.

The bureau also summoned the weekly's editorial staff for questioning, and the editor responsible for the greetings section was reportedly fired after refusing to appear before the censors. Additional sanctions against the staff were also reportedly demanded by the authorities.

Also targeted by the bureau was the 25 December issue of Weekly Eleven Journal, which had a special feature about the 15 leading personalities of 2005. The bureau insisted on the removal of four names from the list : writer Ludu Daw Amar, journalist Ludu Sein Win, businessman U Tay Za and drag artist Maung Than Sein. The photo of writer Maung Su Sann was also censored but the text was allowed to remain. Weekly Eleven Journal was launched in October by the Eleven Media Group, which also publishes two sports weeklies, including the very popular First Eleven, and a magazine of international news.

A Burmese air force officer, Maj. Wunna, was recently fired for writing satirical articles in the weekly Yangon Time. He was discreetly ironic about the military government's transfer of the capital to Pyinmana and a national convention it organised. According to the website Mizzima.com, Maj. Wunna wrote two articles for one of the weekly's issues in November under his pseudonym "Mar J" despite an initially unfavourable opinion from the censors. One was entitled, "The tiger who wanted to die near another forest." The other was entitled, "The convention of angels."

Than Win Hlaing's wife recently told radio Democratic Voice of Burma that her husband was seriously ill. Detained since June 2000, he has diabetes and kidney problems. The prison authorities refuse to give him the treatment he needs and have blocked any early release. According to the Assistance Association for Political Prisoners - Burma (AAPPB), he should have been freed under the law governing conditional release.

A Burmese on-line news publication, Mizzima.com (http://www.mizzima.com), reported on 3 January 2006 that the sacked officer, identified only as Major Wunna, was chief of the military's aviation maintenance department and a columnist under the pseudonym "Mar j".

He was fired after the two satirical articles entitled, "The Tiger Which Wishes to Die Shifts to Another Forest" and "Angels Convention", which were earlier banned by the government censors, appeared in the November issue of the "Yangon Times", Mizzima.com's sources in Rangoon's literary circles revealed.

The military believed the first article was taking a swipe at the military's recent relocation to the remote Pyinmana province as part of the government's plan to turn the jungles into an administrative center.

The second article was thought to be targeting the National Convention, which was reconvened by the junta in December 2005 to draft the Constitution. The convention has been criticised by the international community and exiled Burmese opponents as lacking legitimacy as it provided neither a credible political process leading toward more representative government nor a means for a genuine national reconciliation. It started in 1993 and has been boycotted by the opposition National League for Democracy (NLD) since 1995.

According to reports from Mizzima News, Major Wunna was sacked a week after the articles were banned, with authorities telling the "Yangon Times" they had already warned him.

In a statement sent to Mizzima News, May Nyein, a well-known writer and former university lecturer who fled to the Thai-Burma border in March 2004, said the move by the military showed that writers were not safe in Burma.

"In Burma, censors are a terrible nuisance for writers. Previously they simply tore out the unwanted articles and warned the writers. Now they fire the writers from their posts . . . If it can happen to a military major, they will imprison other ordinary writers," May Nyein said in her statement.

"Mar j" who started writing in 1995 and became popular in late 2000, was already considered an influential writer and was a high-ranking officer in the military, according to Mizzima.com.

BACKGROUND:

The Burmese military junta has imposed one of the strictest censorship regimes in the world on writers. Every article written has to be vetted by military censors before being published.

There is no free or truly independent news operation inside the country, and no information is allowed to circulate or be published in the country without the government's prior approval.

According to the latest report of the Committee to Protect Journalists, Burma ranks fifth in the list of countries that jails journalists with five journalists still in jail for doing their work or for simply supporting the NLD.

The Television and Publication Acts in Burma require all television and video materials as well as publications to be approved by Burmese authorities before public release. Among the types of information that are highly regulated or banned outright are those touching on natural disasters, the AIDS epidemic, human rights, the NLD chair Aung San Suu Kyi's detention and her political movement, debates about government policies, poor local economic conditions, or any other news that the government might regard as unflattering.

SEAPA and other international advocates of press freedom have tagged Burma as one of the most dangerous places in Southeast Asia for journalists. The harsh laws and penalties - starkly underscored by the continuing imprisonment of journalists, writers, artists, and oppositionists – have pushed independent-minded journalists out of Burma.

For example, "The Irrawaddy", an independent publication, is published by exiled Burmese journalists on the Burmese-Thailand boarder.