YANGON – Twenty-five years later, you can still see the fear in the eyes of the doctors — two young men carrying a schoolgirl, her blouse drenched in blood, through streets where soldiers were brutally crushing protests for democracy.
The photograph, thrust to prominence when it ran on the cover of Newsweek magazine, came to symbolize the defeat of the 1988 uprising in Myanmar, which then was known as Burma. The revolt's end cemented the military's power, saw thousands of activists imprisoned and helped bring a future Nobel Peace Prize laureate, Aung San Suu Kyi, to prominence.
Only now, a generation after the events of the day known as "8.8.88," is Win Zaw beginning to talk about it all. He is the doctor in the back of the image, his glasses slipping down his nose as he struggles to carry the bloody girl.
Today, two years after Myanmar's military junta handed over power to a quasi-civilian government, he still hesitates to summon that long-ago day. And for many people in the country, their own painful history remains little more than a whisper.
"The door is only open a little bit," said Win Zaw, 48, taking long pauses as he tried to find the right words. "I want to talk, for the sake of history, and all those who died. In my heart, I feel like this is the right time. But still I feel insecure."
Myanmar, like China, is a nation where dictatorial rule has become less harsh, though it remains far from truly democratic. And Myanmar's history has bred generations of pessimists.
After Gen. Ne Win seized control in a 1962 coup it went from being one of Asia's wealthiest nations to one of the world's poorest.
Resentment over Ne Win's corrupt and inefficient policies began to grow in 1987 and simmered until Aug. 8, 1988, when a nationwide strike led to widespread protests and swift military repression. A civilian president named amid the bloodshed lasted less than a month before being ousted in a coup Sept. 18.
No government officials have ever been held accountable for the violence, which killed an estimated 3,000 people.
On Thursday, thousands gathered for speeches, exhibitions and marches to remember the 1988 uprising.
"I was only 11 years old when the '88 event happened, and I don't remember much except that people shouted, 'Our cause!' " said Aung Thaw, a 36-year-old computer salesman. He said he joined the demonstration because "I wanted to salute those who had courageously taken part in the historic movement."
It was during protests that followed the September coup when Win Zaw, then a doctor at Yangon's main hospital, heard that demonstrators had been shot by soldiers and needed medical help.
Working with an older colleague, Saw Lwin, he repeatedly traveled by ambulance into the protest zone, carrying the injured to the hospital. On the third trip, as they rounded the corner onto Merchant Road, one of the city's main streets, they saw dozens of dead and injured demonstrators. Blood was everywhere.
The two doctors spotted a young girl, badly injured. Many of the fiercest protesters were students, and the girl was wearing the uniform of a high school student: a dark, wraparound "longyi" and white blouse; her shirt was almost completely red with blood.
"I listened carefully and found that her heart was still beating," Win Zaw said. "She whispered, 'Brother, help me.' "
Urging her not to give up, the two doctors ran with 16-year-old Win Maw Oo to the ambulance. That is where Steve Lehman, a 24-year-old American photographer, captured the image, their fear and exhaustion obvious, their doctors' coats flapping.
The girl would never see the photograph. She died that evening.
Weeks later, when the shot appeared on Newsweek's cover, Win Zaw feared there would be trouble.
In 1992, he was detained by the military, blindfolded, taken to an interrogation center and held for five days. Though he was not tortured, he was deeply shaken by the arrest. He was also blacklisted by the government, and could not get a passport for nearly 20 years. He ended up running a private clinic.
Twenty-five years after the crackdown, much remains unspoken in Myanmar.
Thousands disappeared into the country's prisons during military rule, some for many years and often for doing nothing more than distributing leaflets. The torturers of the interrogation centers remain free, as do the jailers and the men who gave them orders.
"If the government recognizes past atrocities and commits to accountability, the anniversary of 8.8.88 could be a pivotal moment in addressing decades of repressive rule," Brad Adams, Asia director for Human Rights Watch, said in a statement. "It could even be the start of a new era if the military and government move from denial to admission and from impunity to justice."
http://www.information.myanmaronlinecentre.com/myanmar-starts-to-cope-25-years-after-8-8-88%e2%80%b2/
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