A Country of Fallen Stars

A Country of Fallen Stars
By KHIN NYEIN THIT
Credit: Irrawaddy News.

Dr. Min Thein (left) and Dr. Saw Lwin (right) carry a girl who was fatally wounded in the crackdown that began after the military seized power on September 18, 1988.


Stars shine by their own light and occupy the highest position in the sky. On clear, unclouded nights, you can look up and see them sparkling as bright as diamonds.

Some of the young people in my country are like those stars. They are brilliantly gifted and elevated by their high moral standards. But one by one, these stars are falling from the skies. That is why I call Burma “the country of fallen stars.”

Whenever I recall the events of September 18, 1988—the day the army declared an end to Burma’s long democracy summer and proceeded to launch a bloody crackdown on protesters—my mind returns to a famous photograph that captures the horror of that moment in my country’s history. In it, two doctors in white coats are carrying a young girl in her school uniform—a white shirt and green longyi. But the girl’s shirt is red, soaked in blood. She is unconscious, or perhaps already dead, as the two doctors run with her in their arms, desperate to save her life.

This photograph is one of the iconic images of that time, and even now, it fills me with emotion and anger when I look at it. This is, of course, a natural reaction; but unlike most people, I see more than just the senseless murder of an innocent child, as horrible as that is. I also see the tragic loss of two of Burma’s best and brightest, whose young lives were snuffed out by the same ruthless forces that killed that girl, and continue to kill good and decent people every day in Burma.

Few people know anything about Dr. Saw Lwin and Dr. Min Thein, the two doctors in this photo. Saw Lwin, the one holding up the girl’s head, was a gifted medical student who had graduated from high school with the highest grades in Rangoon’s Thingankyun Township. He and his friend Min Thein were both top students in medical school. Saw Lwin’s sister was also a doctor, as was Min Thein’s brother. Min Thein’s father worked as a director in a government department.

After the 1988 coup, Min Thein went to the jungle to become a medic with the All Burma Students’ Democratic Front (ABSDF), the student army that was formed to resist the newly installed military regime. He later returned to Rangoon on a mission for the ABSDF. At the time, many others also returned, abandoning their struggle. In a press conference, Brig-Gen Khin Nyunt, the junta’s secretary one, told these returnees that no action would be taken against them if they reported to the authorities. Not realizing why his son had come back, Min Thein’s father informed regional military officials about his return. The next day, military intelligence agents came to their home and took Min Thein to an interrogation center for questioning. A week later, they sent him home.

At first, he seemed fine, but soon after his release, his body became swollen and he couldn’t urinate properly. His younger brother, Win Thein, told Saw Lwin and his sister about Min Thein’s condition. Min Thein, who had earlier confided to Saw Lwin about his mission for the ABSDF, told his friend and fellow doctor that he suspected his symptoms were caused by an injection he had received while he was in custody. The intelligence agents who questioned him refused to tell him what drug they had injected him with.

Min Thein’s health rapidly deteriorated, as his bowels began to swell and he started to have difficulty breathing. While his colleagues were preparing to take him to the hospital, intelligence officers appeared at his home again and told them he could only receive treatment at a military hospital. Min Thein said he would rather die at home than go with them. And so he remained there, treated by Saw Lwin, until he died the next day.

Troubled by the unexplained nature of his friend’s death, Saw Lwin asked one of his professors to perform an autopsy. They discovered that Min Thein’s kidneys had drastically shrunken in size. When the intelligence officers learned about the autopsy, they warned the coroner not to reveal his findings. Saw Lwin realized then that he might be in real danger himself and decided to go into hiding.

At that time, I was working at Saw Lwin’s private clinic, so I could see how his absence affected his patients, many of whom were poor people who couldn’t afford to go anywhere else. They seemed quite helpless without him. He was always reluctant to take money from patients who had very little to give, and sometimes even paid for their medicine out of his own pocket. Once, I saw him treat a seriously ill cancer patient entirely at his own expense.

Saw Lwin’s family also suffered because of his involvement in this case. His father was forced to retire early and died of a stroke in 1994. After this, Saw Lwin returned to his home, believing that the intelligence officers had probably forgotten about the incident. He applied for a government job at a hospital and was assigned to a position at a sub-township hospital in Bogalay Township, Irrawaddy Division.

For a while, he was able to go about his business quite freely, but eventually, the authorities caught up with him. Intelligence agents started summoning him for questioning, and continued harassing him in this manner for several months. In 1995, it got even worse, and he was beginning to feel deeply disturbed. He decided to go to Rangoon to speak with Aung San Suu Kyi, who had been released from house arrest in July of that year, but was unable to meet with her. When he returned to Bogalay, he was immediately summoned by the secretary of the local Township Law and Order Restoration Council and spent several hours being interrogated by three intelligence officers.

By the time he returned home, he was completely drained of energy. After this, his neighbors said that he became very withdrawn. He seemed very troubled, but hesitated to burden others with his problems. Finally, he decided to take leave from the hospital and packed his belongings as if to go on a trip. But for the next two days, no one could hear any sound from his room. When his neighbors forced the door open, they found that he had hanged himself.

His death still fills me with immense sadness. He was a very talented and kind-hearted person.

The stars are falling in our country. Who is responsible for this? How do their mothers bear the pain of losing their precious sons and daughters? How many more must we lose in vain? I have no answers to these questions. But I would like to salute these lost heroes and pray that they are never forgotten.

Khin Nyein Thit is a former political prisoner who recently fled to the Thai-Burmese border.