By Denis D. Gray Thai Radio Breaks Into Burma
Associated Press Writer
Thursday, January 1, 1998; 2:27 p.m. ESTDAWN GWIN CAMP, Thai-Burma Border (AP) -- In a steamy jungle hut, a half-dozen young broadcasters tick off their routine stories: Burmese troops torching an ethnic minority village, women forced into slave labor, a student tortured for passing out pro-democracy pamphlets.
Their target audience is a few miles away, across the Salween River in Burma, one of the world's most closed societies.
Their news reports, along with radio dramas and music programs, are produced in this isolated, guerrilla camp in northern Thailand by one-time student activists. Then they're sent by foot, vehicle and plane to Oslo, Norway, to be broadcast back by short-wave on the Democratic Voice of Burma, or DVB.
Radio remains the prime news source in impoverished Burma, and millions avidly tune in any of four foreign stations to hear what is happening in their own, rigidly controlled country.
Besides the DVB, Burmese-language programing is carried by the British Broadcasting Corp., the Voice of America and the Washington D.C.-based Radio Free Asia. Although audience figures aren't available, all four receive hundreds of letters from listeners inside Burma.
A strong supporter of Burma's pro-democracy forces, Norway funds the 5-year-old DVB, which hopes to improve reception quality inside Burma by setting up a relay station, perhaps somewhere in the former Soviet Union.
Burmese get their official news from the Burma Broadcasting Service, run by a military regime that crushed a pro-democracy revolt in 1988 and sent thousands fleeing to frontier areas.
The regime periodically accuses Western news organizations, including the four stations, of trying to destabilize the country. But listening to foreign broadcasts is not illegal.
``We are not putting out a political line. We just believe people should have a different point of view,'' says Dan Southerland, executive director of the U.S.-government funded Radio Free Asia, which also broadcasts to China, Tibet, Vietnam, North Korea, Laos and Cambodia.
``The long-term effect is hard to predict. But it seems to be good for morale. It gives Burmese a connection to the outside world,'' Southerland said in an interview.
All four stations focus heavily on the pro-democracy movement in Burma, led by Nobel Peace Prize winner Aung San Suu Kyi, and on human rights violations by the military government.
VOA, BBC and RFA say they present objective news reports, while the Democratic Voice of Burma is clearly a radio with a cause, and often one on the run.
Aye Aye Khaing, a 27-year-old radio reporter, had to flee for her life when Burmese troops attacked their clandestine base and studio inside Burma last year. She has moved camp seven times since 1991, when she fled Rangoon after twice being jailed for political activism.
A daughter, 5-year-old December, was born in one of the frontier camps, from which the former students and other anti-government groups have tried to mount a resistance movement.
At past locations, Aye Aye Khaing recalled, the ``studio'' consisted of some recording equipment sheltered by blankets to block out sounds of jungle wildlife.
Now, or at least until the next move, the studio at this headquarters of the All Burma Students Democratic Front has a concrete slab for flooring, some blue plastic insulation, one small fan and a portable electric generator which is powered when recordings are made.
The reporters say they try to be as factual as possible, often trying to find several sources to confirm an event. Some of their dramas are compelling, and strictly educational programs are also featured.
But the radio's stance is clear: it is strongly opposed to the military regime and does not offer the government's version of developments.
Only one of the radio reporters here had done any previous work in journalism, although some have been receiving training from the Indochina Media Memorial Fund and other international media organizations.
``My only experience in radio was listening to it,'' says Aye Aye Khaing. One of her colleagues, Tin Maung Lwin, 48, held degrees in accounting, law and zoology and says he was apolitical until circumstances forced him to flee Rangoon in 1989.
``Even educated people like myself knew very little about democracy and human rights,'' he said. ``Now I know, so I want to tell my people.''
© Copyright 1998 The Associated Press
