Karaoke Fascism: Burma and the Politics of Fear

3. Darker Than Midnight: Fear, Vulnerability, and Terror-Making

Chapter 3 Darker Than Midnight: Fear, Vulnerability, and Terror-Making The meeting concluded with [the] chanting of slogans—the National Objectives must succeed, must succeed; objectives of the USDA [Union Solidarity and Development Association] must succeed , must succeed; and internal and external destructionists must be crushed, must succeed (sic). —New Light of Myanmar Ethnography in an Authoritarian State Ethnography conducted under conditions of fear and terror defies traditional methods of data collection.1 My fieldwork interpretations and the very framework by which I determine whom to interview and why are consciously embedded in a belief in the need to write against terror (Taussig 1987). I am an activist-by-proxy, as is evident to me through my avoidance of the Burmese Generals and my continual worry over their anger at my writings. Linda Green (1999: 6) has argued that fieldworker and informants inevitably share experiences. Returning from the field, the anthropologist has not only the analytical tools of the discipline at his or her disposal , but also ‘‘the language of people’s practices,’’ practices the anthropologist has witnessed or participated in. In my case, the shared experience includes being frightened, confused, and disoriented, and suffering from a general loss of perspective. Green (1998: 6) argues that anthropology can help to bring about a more just world if the ‘‘complex links’’ between analytical and experiential varieties of knowledge are explored. Like Green, I have adopted a methodology appropriate for this type 34 Chapter 3 of fieldwork. I also place myself, as one opposed to human suffering and authoritarianism, in the ethnography. With Scheper-Hughes (1992) I share a disdain for anthropologists who write ethnographies that are essentially autobiographies. This is certainly not my aim. I have included my own observations, fears, and experiences as a way of intuiting affective dimensions of the lives of Burmese with whom I associated, and I privilege the subjective and emotional content of the relationship involving informant, ethnographer, and environment. Another similarity between my own and Green’s (1998, 1999) work is that my aim when planning and commencing fieldwork was not to write about the state construction of affect. I had intended to understand how the cultural construction of mental illness is influenced by life under an authoritarian regime. I had assumed that violence would enter my informant narratives, and (following Nordstrom and Robben 1995) I was interested in violence as a dimension of daily existence. But my original aim gave way to a different one. I arrived in Rangoon in May 1996 at the height of the yearly cycle of urban militarization, during the mango showers that signaled the imminent arrival of the monsoon period, and the cessation of many military activities until the end of the rains. I became fascinated by what I have called military time, that is, by the temporal topography of fear in Rangoon . The tension generated by the military spectacles was heightened by the ‘‘roadside talks’’ given each weekend by Aung San Suu Kyi. She had been released from house arrest one year earlier, and a public alliance was developing between her party, the National League for Democracy , and an increasingly bold student movement. This conjunction of events meant that Rangoon was ablaze with rumors. Most of the events recounted in this chapter occurred between May and December 1996 in urban and peri-urban Rangoon. It is not ethically feasible to conduct a detailed ethnographic study of Burmese everyday life at this time. Physical danger threatens participants in this study if their names are revealed. Jail terms await those who speak with foreigners, host foreigners in their homes overnight without permission, or gather in groups to speak about politics. Accordingly, in narratives, informant statements, and life histories, I use fictitious Burmese names and identify individuals only by approximate age and sometimes by occupation. I have used names common among the ethnic Burman majority population, not to make any kind of political statement , but to protect informants by avoiding references to ethnic identities . In Rangoon I draw material from a close circle of female friends in their twenties to late forties, and in the forcibly relocated townships that ring Rangoon and Mandalay, I include material from mainly female acquaintances of the same age range. I also include data from patient Darker Than Midnight: Fear, Vulnerability, and Terror-Making 35 interviews at the Rangoon Psychiatric Hospital and the Rangoon Drug Rehabilitation Unit. What I cannot include here...