Abstract: This article explores Japanese bunkajin (Asianists’) wartime propaganda about U Ottama, a political Buddhist monk from British Burma. Between 1940 and 1945, there were a total of sixty-four different publications in Japanese about U Ottama, including three full biographies published in 1943 alone. In these texts, Japanese bunkajin claimed U Ottama as a “forerunner of Burmese nationalism” ( Senkakusha 先覚者) and “father of Burmese independence” (Biruma dokuritsu no chichi ビルマ独立の父), largely due to his connections to Japan. This period coincided with Japan’s campaign for the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere ( Daitōa Kyōeiken 大東亜共栄圏). The surge of writings about U Ottama in 1943 was significant, particularly after Japan granted Burma independence under its patronage on 1 August 1943. Bunkajin crafted a narrative that emphasized U Ottama’s ties to Japan, influenced by Japanese pan-Asianist ideas, while distorting facts or presenting half-truths about his anti-colonial struggle to depict him as a true “forerunner” of Burmese nationalism.

About the Cover Carmín Berchiolly Click for larger view View full resolution Cover Image: Carnelian etched bead. Pyu period. 10mm x 20mm. Gift of Dr. Richard M. Cooler. BC2005.03.24b. Burma Art Collection. Northern Illinois University. Photography: Maeve Wallace, Northern Illinois University. The Cover Image for this Special Issue features a decorative Pyu bead from the Burma Art Collection at Northern Illinois University. The bead is part of the Pyu material culture pervasive in first millennium CE of what is now Upper Burma and exemplifies several others in the Burma Art Collection. This bead likely belonged to a piece of jewelry, such as a necklace, as it has a borehole that allows it to be strung. Burma is well-known for its rich gemstone deposits, which include carnelian, a variety of chalcedony stone visually identified by its rich yellow-red color. Other Burmese chalcedony include onyx and agate. Talented artists used heating as a mechanism to deepen the colors of carnelian and employed a chemical etching technique believed to have originated in the Harappan civilization (Indus River Valley) towards the end of the 3rd millennium BCE. There, such beads have been excavated in tombs alongside other precious stones such as radiant blue lapis lazuli. They are believed to have held religious significance. It is likely that the Pyu adopted this technique through trade with India, as carnelian was prominent in the Gulf of Cambay. Terrance Tan speculates that the proliferation of beads found at burial sites from the Bronze-Iron transition period (900 BCE to 200 CE) suggests their use was commonplace among all societal levels and was associated with trade, fashion, and religious practices (Tan 2021). As pointed out by Win Kyaing (in this volume), beads have been found in the Pyu city of Śrīkṣetra (near present-day Pyay) along with precious stones, gold, and silver, and datėd from 430–570 CE. In the Pyu context, carnelian beads have been found at burial sites, and dated to as early as the 1st millennium. Abundant and high-quality beads found in ancient archaeological sites elsewhere in Burma suggests local artisans' significant past role as producers of the etched carnelian style (Glover and Bellina 2001:191–215). The presence of beads in archeological sites helps to understand the importance of trade in antiquity. Etched carnelian beads and ornaments have been produced in places such as current India and Thailand and found as far afield as modern-day Iran. The technique used to create the "etched" beads involves applying a chemical [End Page ii] mixture, often composed of sodium carbonate, in a decorative pattern on the stone. After baking and wiping away the mixture, permanent white patterns are revealed. In addition to this complex process, the technological advancements of the time can be seen through the bead makers' skill in hand polishing each bead and drilling extremely small holes from each side of the bead until they reached the center. Archeologists have speculated that this technique did not develop independently over thousands of years in disparate places but rather is evidence of a long artistic tradition that survived time and place. Although carnelian and other forms of agate are still sold in contemporary jewelry shops in Burma, much remains to be answered regarding their use by the Pyu. From the hands of Harappan traders, to the Royal Cemetery at Ur (Mesopotamia), all the way to Pyu city-states, this peculiar way of working with carnelian stone testifies to the endurance of trade and cultural exchange across time and distance. Carmín Berchiolly Curator, Burma Art Collection. Bibliography Glover, Ian C., and Bérénice Bellina. "Alkaline Etched Beads East of India in the Late Prehistoric and Early Historic Periods." Bulletin de l'École Française d'Extrême-Orient 88 (2001): 191–215. Google Scholar Tan, Terrance. "The Journey from Prehistory to the Pyu States in Myanmar." Arts of Southeast Asia, 2021. https://artsofsoutheastasia.com/the-journey-from-prehistory-to-the-pyu-states-in-myanmar/ (Accessed: 30 January 2024). Google Scholar Copyright © 2024 Center for Burma Studies, Northern Illinois University

In this article, I argue that the punk community Rebel Community mirrors, to a certain extent, Bamar-Buddhist-justified gendered inequalities. Although the punks identify structural inequalities and the discrimination of women and minorities, they are themselves not free from the heteronormative and structural discriminations they criticize and oppose. Basic rules within the community include that fascist, racist, and sexist behavior is not tolerated. These punks regard humans as equal, no matter their gender, ethnicity, or religion. Therefore, they counter the institutionalized separation of the population of Myanmar but also turn a blind eye to intersectional discrimination. Through a dogmatic approach to egalitarianism, women have a hard time sharing their experiences of sexism and being acknowledged instead of silenced. Since harassment, for example, is an experience the male members share, they have a hard time acknowledging that the harassment the women must endure is not about them being punks but that they are punished—through being objectified and sexualized—for betraying nation and culture.

How Can Scholars from Formerly Colonizing Countries Assist in Decolonizing Burma Studies? Rosalie Metro (bio) In 2022, Htet Min Lwin, a graduate student at York University, became cochair of the Burma Studies Group (BSG), a subdivision of the United States-based scholarly organization, Association for Asian Studies. He’s the second person with heritage from Myanmar to hold this role (which Maitrii Aung-Thwin also did) since the group’s formation in the 1970s—and certainly the youngest. The colonial origins of studying “the East” are well known, as are the roots of “area studies” programs in the Cold War national security interests of the United States and Europe. Thus, the term “formerly” in my title only refers to the end of an official governing relationship; coloniality persists in economic, political, and academic dimensions. Therefore, hearing of this positive news about the BSG led me to reflect on my twenty years participating in this discipline—what has changed, and what has not, in terms of who holds power. When I attended my first Burma Studies Conference in 2008 in Dekalb, IL (home of the International Center for Burma Studies), the field was dominated by older white people from formerly colonizing countries including the United Kingdom and other parts of Europe, North [End Page 171] America, and Australia. Many of them could not speak Burmese or another ethnic nationality’s language. There was a sprinkling of senior bama men. After decades of military rule that had made field research difficult for many international scholars, and a general lack of interest in a country perceived as not geopolitically significant to former colonizers, Myanmar was not a popular country to study in the United States. Cornell University, where I was pursuing a PhD, was one of a handful of places outside of Asia that taught Burmese language, and there was only one other person in my class. As a white woman with U.S. citizenship, I didn’t fully understand how privileged I was to be studying whatever country captured my interest at an Ivy League institution. I didn’t question why “area studies” institutes are so often located outside the “area” itself, and in former colonizing countries. Fast forward fifteen years: although the discipline, like so much of academia, still skews white, older, and male, important changes have been spurred by the post-2010 expansion of the discipline as well as by broader cultural shifts. Htet Min Lwin’s cochairship of BSG does not mean racism within Burma Studies is over, any more than Obama’s presidency meant that racism in the United States had ended. But it would be hard to get through a humanities or social sciences PhD program in the United States or Europe studying Myanmar these days without learning or already knowing at least one of its languages. One new venue, the Independent Journal of Burmese Scholarship, is devoted to bilingual content and the cultivation of scholars from Myanmar. There are so many researchers and scholar-activists from Myanmar sharing their insights and doing crucial work. More nuanced discourses around race and power have made it possible to pull apart easily conflated yet distinct terms like “foreign,” “white,” “Western/Eastern,” “Global [End Page 172] North/South” (in ways that made me settle on “scholars from formerly colonizing countries” in my title to identify people with similar positionality to my own, even while acknowledging how much that category is striated by race, class, and gender). It feels to me like the balance of power has shifted in long-overdue ways toward the prioritization of local knowledge. It’s not enough, but it’s a start. These changes are evidenced in Tharaphi Than’s (2021) essay, “Why Does Area Studies Need Decolonization?” In it, she addresses her fellow academics from the Global South and directs them toward “freeing each other from coloniality,” or the colonial dynamics which outlast colonization (Tharaphi Than 2021). She describes her own journey into the Western academy, noting that “to be modern and be accepted in the world education scene is to act the way the masters did” (Tharaphi Than 2021). She describes “Orientals adopting Orientalism,” as those who accept the Western canon and choose research...

Abstract: Special economic zones (SEZs) attract investment and political support based on promises of both macroeconomic growth and local economic benefit. Myanmar has numerous SEZs, including those in Thilawa, Dawei, and Kyaukphyu. Recent SEZ legislation requires investors and administrators to maintain the standard of living of communities displaced by the SEZ development. This paper studies the socioeconomic impact on households which have been relocated by the Thilawa SEZ, comparing them with those which remained in their original communities. Relocated households have experienced significantly higher rates of unemployment, debt, and lack of livelihood/income diversity. Due to a greater reliance on food purchases and income insufficiency, relocated households reported higher rates of food insecurity, and nearly one-third reported having taken out loans to meet food shortages in the past year. Overall, the pattern of coping amongst relocated households demonstrates significantly lower levels of resilience than non-relocated households, which results in a rapid erosion of economic capital, and subsequently a decline in future coping capacity. These findings challenge the assumptions around capital-based compensation approaches to relocation programs and argue instead that the process of relocation is best compared to a shock transition to an urban state, characterized by a rupturing of the relationship to land. The ensuing precarity demands a high level of adaptive capacity, which, in turn, requires not only new skills but access to resources, markets, and welfare mechanisms, many of which are not available. If SEZs are to fulfill both the wider economic promise and the legal requirements, a radically different approach to the processes of relocation is needed.

Abstract: The military coup February 1, 2021, in Myanmar came as a surprise for many observers. This article argues that the Constitution of 2008 has the script for a future coup should the military lose power and control over civil society, state administration, and the political process. Since 2015, Senior General Min Aung Hlaing has warned of the "disintegration of the main national causes" meaning that national unity, protection of race, and Buddhism, and the Tatmadaw's leading role was in danger. He constantly referred to the emergency clauses in the constitution. After 2015, Western media focused on the "democratic transition" but tended to overlook how the military undermined Daw Aung San Suu Kyi's government. Since 2017, they have blamed Daw Suu for the military's atrocities and eviction of the Rohingya. The article analyzes how the military network destabilized the civilian government, using examples from Karen State to illustrate that process.

Grounded in data collected over multiple fieldworks among Buddhist communities living in Rakhine State between 2005 and 2011, this work explores the reasons for the ubiquity of astrology among apotropaic and healing practices employed by these communities. I suggest that it is astrology's mastery of time, its capacity to connect individual and cosmic time that explains its dominant position. It is indeed because of this capacity that astrology allows to see, predict, and manipulate cosmic connections on which individual and cosmic order and wellbeing depend. This article will first elaborate on Burmese astrological theory to show how the practice is part of Buddhist cosmology and how, by virtue of its mastery of time, it holds the key of the grammar it shares with other healing practices. I will then present the case study of a healer to show how these characteristics of astrology provide the basis for its dominant position in the field of health.

Astrological and Divinatory Practices in Burma:Mapping the beidin Category Aurore Candier and Jane M. Ferguson This special issue of The Journal of Burma Studies is part of a collective and multidisciplinary project which explores astrological and divinatory knowledge and practices in Burma. These practices include fortune telling, divinatory, and therapeutic techniques, and they serve a broader system for the interpretation of past, present, and future events. In Burma, as elsewhere in South and Southeast Asia, astrology, and divination rationales are part of social thinking and are also embedded in religious fields (Vernant 1974:10; Guenzi 2021:9). The collective aim of these four articles is to investigate the articulation between astrology, divination, religion, power, and discourse in Burma. The articles draw on research from multicultural contacts and consider the coproduction of knowledge through circulations of people, ideas, and systems of meaning across the longue durée (Raj 2007; Pollock 2011; Bala 2012; Fourcade 2013). In doing so, the articles endeavor to find connections and analogies with distant or closer past practices and knowledge in Burma as well as in neighboring countries. [End Page 147] Beidin 1 is the current Burmese designation for practices and knowledge related to astrology and divination. Mapping beidin as a category requires combining anthropological and historical methods. The first approach is to identify what knowledge and practices beidin encompasses today, and this is carried out through case studies of specialists and their practices, communities of knowledge, and conceptions. The second article in this set, "Min Theinhka: An Astrologer's Career through the Lens of Biography," by Bénédicte Brac de la Perrière opens with an ethnographic visit to Min Theinhka's compound, then segues to the complex profile of the remarkable astrologer, tracking his life story through the biography authored by one of his disciples. Moving from the story of an astrologer, Coderey's article, "We Are Made of Time: Astrology and Healing in Rakhine State, Myanmar" turns to an ethnographic exploration of healing practices among Buddhist communities. Through this evidence, Coderey's article demonstrates how the mastery of time (and the relation of timing with key events) relates the individual to the cosmic order. Thus, astrologers provide this key expertise for peoples' well-being. The second methodology is one of long-term historical perspective. It makes use of a variety of written sources (stone inscriptions, court manuscripts, royal chronicles, astrological literature), to apprehend when beidin emerged as a category of knowledge and how it changed throughout history to become what it is today. Its ontological history is the subject of Aurore Candier's [End Page 148] article, "The Emergence and Evolution of the Beidin Category in Burma: The Transition of the Long Nineteenth Century." Moving from Burmese categories and navigating the spatiotemporal waters of the waterclock itself, Caterina Guenzi's article, "The Burmese Hour" offers a compelling comparison of how horometrical systems which operated in Brahmanical India were also adopted in the Burmese courts; Brahmin astrologers at the Burmese courts were engaged differently than those remaining in India under the British. This article also offers a timely intervention and call for Southeast Asianists to engage with more research from South Asia. At the crossroads of the history of science and knowledge, the four articles understand science(s) and knowledge(s) as related "nomad concepts" loosely separated by "moving borders;" and focus on practices and practitioners to unveil the "scientific culture and knowledge" pertaining to specific moments and places in history (Van Damme 2015). In terms of time and space boundaries, the emphasis is on local changes, although the articles do constantly keep in mind the process of global integration.2 Some of the articles in this issue, such as those by Brac de la Perrière and Candier explore moments of important local changes, tracking the evolution of beidin conceptions and practices within them. These specific moments are either long periods in history, or a sequence of decades, or a few years following a traumatic event (political crisis, conflicts). Moments unfold in a particular time and space—a place filled with actors from different horizons with their own "regimes of [End Page 149] historicity" or conceptions of the world.3 While some...

This paper utilizes the concept of the "Burmese hour" to approach astrological practices in Burma as being not only distinctive but also historically related to Brahmanical astral sciences. First, the "Burmese hour" is examined as a unit of time: the hour (nārī) of twenty-four minutes, prevalent before the colonial-era introduction of the sexagesimal horometrical system. Focusing on the water clock used at the Burmese court (c. 18th–19th), I investigate the connection between this system of time-reckoning and Brahmanical horometrical techniques in India. Next, the "Burmese hour" is addressed through an opposition to the "Moghul hour" and the "British hour." I examine the different working conditions that Brahmin astrologers from Banaras had at the Burmese court compared with those experienced under other "foreign" rulers in early modern and colonial India. Finally, I argue for a closer dialogue between specialists of Burma and South Asia, beyond area studies divisions. Through this dialogue, I propound that the "Burmese hour" has come. It is time to study Burmese astrological practices as being socially diverse and locally distinctive.