Question: Why did the Burmese military government, with its 400,000 battle-hardened army, respond so slowly to the Cyclone Nargis catastrophe?

Answer: It could not bridge the gulf between humanity and totalitarianism.

Since the purge of former head of military intelligence Gen Khin Nyunt and his associates some years ago, Snr-Gen Than Shwe’s power has remained unchallenged. His only other rival is second-in-command Vice Snr-Gen Maung Aye, who waits on the sidelines.

Many reports suggest that each junta "super-cabinet" meeting since last July has been cancelled. This is probably down to Than Shwe closing off any opportunity for Maung Aye to make a power play. There are several issues on which the government has been gridlocked over the past year—let alone deal effectively with a major natural disaster.    

While given to displays of military and occasional personal grandeur, Than Shwe—now 76—has become more taciturn and reclusive, and simply does not tolerate anyone contradicting his viewpoint. Ill-health has also starting to plague him. 

Formerly head of the armed forces’ psych-ops unit, he recently began to display blatant signs of erratic behavior. Building a new capital for himself in Naypyidaw—the “Home of Kings”—was seen widely as an expensive, impractical and paranoid gesture.

Than Shwe nurses a distaste for all foreigners, but the wrath he saves for Aung San Suu Kyi is legendary. His final meeting with former UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan reportedly ended rather abruptly in 2005 when Than Shwe stormed out of the room after Annan had mentioned Suu Kyi’s name.

Part of the key to understanding the junta’s jittery response to the cyclone disaster is the fear factor –Than Shwe has been known to shoot the messenger and nobody who knows him wants to be the bearer of bad news. Bad news is constantly toned down for the supreme leader and analysis sweetened for his taste. In the end, any urgent calls for action were muted; his subordinates retreated timidly into corners while the natural disaster spun out of control. Millions of innocent people suffered as a consequence.

As a former commander of offensives against Karen insurgents and civilians, Than Shwe’s warhorse mentality must have bred a cold toleration for human suffering over the years.

The imperative for Than Shwe, all along, was ensuring that his long-awaited referendum went smoothly and resulted in entrenching his rule.

The fact that the head of state said nothing publicly about the cyclone for a fortnight left his underlings in the dark, paralyzed and unable to react. They fell back on a 40-year tendency towards autarky—Burma could and would deal with the problem and— as the strongest institution in the country—the army would take the lead. Foreigners weren’t wanted and the highly restrictive policies for regulating the UN and INGOs would be maintained.

If nobody was telling Than Shwe the full extent of the damage, they certainly weren’t pressuring him to waived restrictions. In a well-trodden military junta response, foreign news of the massive disaster was in dissonance with the official view and was categorized as the propaganda of Western opponents and Burmese “traitors.”
 
The propaganda machine did, however, dictate that senior military officers go to the delta to hand out supplies. They must—surely to God—have become painfully aware of the heartbreak and devastation that was occurring on their watch.

The donor pledging conference to be held by Asean and the UN in Rangoon on Sunday is a significant breakthrough, but given the justified concerns about corruption, donors will rightly want to deliver aid directly, while the junta, in the absence of any further instruction to do differently from Than Shwe, will want all aid to go through their channels.

Compounding the pressure on Than Shwe is the expiry of Aung San Suu Kyi’s five-year detention order on Saturday night. Ironically, but not serendipitously for Than Shwe, it coincides with the largest gathering of the international community in Rangoon since the 1950s.

With the international community on his doorstep, foreign warships off the coastline and Maung Aye lurking in the shadows, retirement must be looking more and more like an attractive option for Than Shwe.

Ko Ko Maung and Saya San are expatriate Burma watchers.