7 June 21 Killing Poets

Poets are not safe. Neither are other writers. In truth, none of us are safe from the reaper who has all the time in the world and no moral conscience. But natural death is one thing; murder is quite another. This post focuses on poets in the middle of the Myanmar conflict. If you are unaware of the political and humanitarian clashes there, you know what to do in an online world.*

Killing poets. What are the murderers afraid of? The killing is perverse, twisted praise, something like saying, “We think your words have so much power and so much impact on those who read them that we must wipe out those words, and destroy their source – you.” From ancient times to the present, authors have been in danger of losing their lives, or at the least their livelihoods, for their artistic expressions, especially if these expressions hold opinions. It is said that writers perceive more than the average person; perhaps, if this is true, writers “hit us where it hurts” – our version of the real world.  

Below, you are invited to sample poetry in the midst of present conflicts – conflicts that will not soon be solved, and where thousands of lives are at risk or already snuffed out.

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In a May 25, 2021 New York Times article, Hannah Beech wrote about the cycle of responses between poet protesters and the military. “Poetry remains alive in Myanmar,” says Beech, "where unconventional weapons are being used to fight a military that has killed more than 800 people since it staged a coup on February 1, 2021 and ousted an elected government. For some democracy activists, their politics cannot be separated from their poetry." Some poetry excerpts from this article read as follows:

"Sensing the power of carefully chosen words, the generals have imprisoned more than 30 poets since the insurrection, according to the National Poets’ Union. At least four have been killed, all from the township of Monywa, which is nestled in the hot plains of central Myanmar and has emerged as a center of fierce resistance to the coup."

"After the first and second poets were killed, the third poet wrote a poem."

They shoot at heads

But they do not know

That revolution lives in the heart.

"After the third poet was killed, the fourth poet wrote a poem."

Don’t let your blood run cold

Pool your blood for this fight.

"After the fourth poet was killed, his body consumed by fire on May 14, there was no verse. At least for a moment."

“Mr. Chan Thar Swe had left the Buddhist monkhood to write poetry more than a dozen years ago . . . His poems, written under the pen name K Za Win, were full of a vigor that belied his monastic background. His political activism, on behalf of land, education, and environmental causes, landed him in prison in 2015. Dozens of poets shared the same fate. Mr. Chan Thar Swe composed in his cell, the poems crowding his head. By then, prisoners were allowed books, but not pens. So, he memorized his verse. The rigor helped clarify his poetry, which is free of excess. Five days after the coup, he wrote “Revolution.”

Dark nights

They linger too long . . .

The poem ends on a hopeful note.

. . . It will be dawn

For it is the duty of those who dare

To conquer the dark and usher in the light.

"On March 4, his sister received a police summons to the Monywa mortuary. She identified her brother’s body. . .  A bullet hole punctured his left temple. A long slash ran down his torso. . .  his internal organs had been removed; a desecration increasingly found among those killed by the military in Myanmar."

"At Mr. Chan Thar Swe’s funeral, another poet, Ko Khet Thi, recited a poem he had written for those killed by the security forces, many with a single bullet to the head and some when they were not even protesting."

They began to burn the poets

When the smoke of burned books could

No longer choke the lungs heavy with dissent.

"Weeks after the funeral, Mr. Khet Thi, a onetime engineer, was hauled into detention and later turned up dead, according to his family. His corpse also had an unexplained incision down his torso, the family said. . . “I am also afraid that I will get arrested and killed, but I will keep fighting,” said Ko Kyi Zaw Aye, yet another poet from Monywa who was close to both men..."

"When some poets spent time behind bars, they sometimes used rocks to carve the curved Burmese script of their poems onto cell walls. Mr. Yee Mon relied on a bit of metal against plastic to record his words."

"Even after the democratic opposition began to share power with the military in 2015, poets still were dispatched to prison. One, Ko Maung Saungkha, wrote a poem about having tattooed his penis with a reference to a former president handpicked by the army. He was imprisoned for six months in 2016, despite having made clear that such a tattoo did not, in fact, exist. [The link does not contain the poem, but it does provide an update on how things progressed.]...

"U Sein Win was a National League for Democracy stalwart in Monywa. He painted and carved wood. He wrote poetry and plays. . .  On the morning of May 14, an assailant threw a bucket of gasoline on Mr. Sein Win, 60, and lit a match, according to his daughter, Ma Thin Thin Nwe. His facial features melted away. He died that night. Since the coup, more than a dozen democratic politicians, activists and ordinary people have died from such unexplained assaults."

"At Mr. Chan Thar Swe’s funeral, weeks before he was killed himself, Mr. Khet Thi prophesied the destructive power of fire and the rebirth that follows.

They started to burn the poets

But ash makes for more fertile soil."

The interlinking of divergence and poetry has continued.

Background

In the 1970s, I taught a course called, “Contemporary Novel” to large classes of high school juniors and seniors. I was almost censored for my choices for students’ reading in that course. In particular, the trouble was over two books: Fields of Fire by James Webb and Of Mice and Men – John Steinbeck. The details would take too long to tell; suffice it to say that objections focused on “bad” language and sexual scenes that to me were tertiary, if that, to the books’ plots and purposes. Moving quickly ahead in this story, my principal called me in to ask me to “make other book choices,” and when I declined, he arranged a tribunal of sorts wherein I was brought before a panel of disgruntled parents to defend my position. At least I wasn’t hung, shot, or imprisoned. I was, however, greatly changed by the experience, and to this day, any hint of censorship causes me distress.**

Exploration 1: When is censorship justified? If censorship is practiced, what punishments should be enforced?

Exploration 2: Could the above scenario happen here? Has it already happened?

Exploration 3: Does poetry actually have the strength to invite scenarios like those described here? If so, why? If not, why not?

Exploration 4: In your opinion, what was the most plausible reason the Myanmar poets were killed.

* What is the root cause of the problem in the case of the Rohingyas in Myanmar? The Rohingya refugee crisis is caused by the Rohingya people having long faced violence and discrimination in Myanmar. Armed conflict escalated in August 2017 in Rakhine State, causing Rohingya to flee to nearby Bangladesh. – Mar 25, 2021.

** Side note: I wrote my Master’s Thesis on the power of language: Language and Censorship.