Still a work in progress

The political transformation of Myanmar (or Burma, for those who do not recognise the name change) has been remarkable. The brutal military junta that turned a country into a global pariah and presided over economic ruin has given way to a quasi-civilian administration, which is now opening up to political competition and international diplomacy. It has been justly rewarded, with sanctions being eased and official recognition being conferred by various foreign dignitaries meeting with Burmese leaders. Most significantly — at least for its symbolic power, and perhaps its political ramifications too — is the release of long-detained democracy activist Aung San Suu Kyi, who has today been sworn into parliament after winning a by-election last month.

But it’s important not to get carried away. Writing in The Wall Street Journal, David Scott Mathieson and Benjamin Zawacki remind the world that Myanmar still has a long way to go. A key example is the ongoing detention of political prisoners. Yes, many high-profile figures — including Suu Kyi — have been released (though it should be noted that Suu Kyi was only under household detention, rather than holed up in a jail cell). But hundreds still remain behind bars according to independent estimates. Myanmar is adamant that those still imprisoned are a threat, with many accused of violent conduct, including attempted bombings. The evidence behind these claims is flimsy at best.

Mathieson and Zawacki suggest that if Burmese President Thein Sein is as sincere about reform as he professes to be, the cases of such political prisoners should be reviewed by a joint panel comprising Burmese officials and United Nations representatives. This should also advise on reforms to the country’s criminal code that would provide better human rights protections than are currently in place. Such proposals are certainly ambitious and wide-reaching — and in the past, would have been considered laughable. But recent developments in Myanmar offer a faint hope that reforms of this kind are indeed possible.

Why I’d vote no

For many, Australia Day is a day to celebrate — to catch up with friends over a barbecue (and likely more than a few beers) and watch the cricket (or the tennis, though no Australian players are left in the tournament). But for Indigenous Australians, Australia Day is a dark reminder of their history. It marks the day that white settlers colonised what was then regarded as an empty, unowned land — terra nullius. For many of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander heritage, this was not settlement but an invasion.

Fast forward over two centuries later, and modern day Australia remains unsure of how to promote reconciliation between Indigenous Australians and those whose descendents have come to this continent’s shores since 1788. The latest initiative, in a report released this month, is to amend the federal constitution to — among other things — officially recognise Australia’s first peoples.

Shoot to kill

Libyan despot Muammar Qaddafi is dead. And to judge by scenes playing out before the world’s TV cameras, Libyans are delighted by it. The international community seems less sure, with discomfort that Qaddafi appears to have been summarily executed by his captors rather than brought to justice in a trial. Even the Americans, who have knocked off plenty of unsavoury figures on their own (including terrorist chief Osama bin Laden earlier this year), have raised awkward questions about what happened in Sirte.

However, as law professor Stephen Carter points out, Qaddafi was in a convoy that was attacked by NATO bombers. Had he died in that assault, no doubt the US would have called it completely justified. As it happened, he survived, managing to hide in a drain pipe until he was found — and then killed. None of that is to justify an extra-judicial slaying. But it does point to an element of hypocrisy. Indeed, Gaddafi’s death was surely the conclusion that must ultimately have been expected — who in Washington, London or Paris seriously believed that Gaddafi would be held to account before in a court of law? The battlefield is a bloody place. And after decades of repression, it’s hard to prevent the victims from seeking vengence. Especially when you provide them with the weapons.

F*ck that

Compared to many of my contemporaries, my language is generally ‘clean’. I am certainly not prone to hurling obscenities on the street. But what would be the difference between me shouting “you inconsiderate so-and-so” compared to “you fucking arsehole”? Aside from the awkward and/or bemused laughter the latter might provoke, in Victoria the latter could soon land you with a $240 fine. (Indeed, under an existing an existing statute from 1966, you could be locked up for two years.)

Under new laws to be voted on by state parliament this week, police will be able to issue infringement notices against those using language deemed to be “indecent, disorderly, offensive or threatening”. Threatening I can accept as legitimate, and even disorderly at a stretch. But indecent and offensive? In a free society, that seems like a bridge too far. Individuals do not possess a right not to be offended, and nor should they — after all, everyone can be offended by different things in different ways. (Indeed, I’m offended when politicians feel compelled to pass laws that impinge on basic liberties like free speech.) At the end of the day, profanities are just words — colourful, yes, but legitimate expressions nonetheless. Criminalising them is complete bullshit.

The legalities of killing a terrorist

To the chagrin of the more ‘gung ho’ types cheering the death of Osama bin Laden, a number of lawyers and activists have criticised America’s decision to kill the al-Qaeda figurehead. Certainly I can’t bring myself to celebrate bin Laden’s demise — indeed, there is something attractive in the argument that he should have been put on trial for the acts of terrorism he organised and inspired. That said, I’m not losing any sleep over this week’s events.

A pertinent question, which may get more airtime as the emotional reaction dies down, is the legality of bin Laden’s killing. Assuming that this was a ‘hit’ — which itself is an assumption open to question, as the facts remain thoroughly unclear over what transpired in Abbottabad — there are potentially two questions of legality that should be considered. One, was this a lawful use of force? Two, was this consistent with international humanitarian law? As Ben Saul writes for The Drum, on both counts there is significant ambiguity (in part because international law has yet to fully account for dealing with non-state actors). For many, this mightn’t sour the ‘victory’ of bin Laden’s demise. But America’s handling of this military action may contribute to an even more hostile reaction from bin Laden’s followers.