Forgotten Wars_ Freedom and Revolution in Southeast Asia - Christopher Bayly [222]
9
1948: A Bloody Dawn
BOYS’ DAY IN BURMA
Shortly before dawn on 4 January 1948 dozens of diplomats prised themselves from their beds and proceeded to don official clothing and regalia. Burma’s independence and exit from the Commonwealth had finally come to pass. Terrified by the memory of the assassination of Aung San, Burma’s youthful leaders had consulted numerous astrologers. They had insisted that the date should be moved from 6 to 4 January and that the proclamation itself should take place at precisely 4 o’clock in the morning to take advantage of a favourable conjunction of the stars. Later that day Thakin Nu gave a speech setting out his high hopes for the new republic. He traced the history of Burma, from its great medieval past through the humiliations of British rule and Japanese invasion. The spirit of Aung San was heavy in the air; he had made ‘the last sacrifice on the altar of freedom’.1 True to tradition in the Buddhist world, the new country’s president announced a purge of Burma’s religious establishment to match the prime minister’s political revolution. ‘Evil practices’ such as ‘caste, begging, pagoda and monastery slavery’ would be abolished.2 The new national flag fluttered incongruously over the neo-Gothic government house in Rangoon, where a few years earlier, as Burma fell to the Japanese, Reginald Dorman-Smith had roamed amid what he saw as the jeering portraits of his predecessors. A significant number of men and women born before 1885 had lived to see their nation free again.
That evening in Delhi Dorman-Smith’s bête noire, Mountbatten, held one of his ceremonious Governor General’s spectacles. He presented to the Burmese ambassador a table that had belonged to the last independent ruler of Burma, King Thibaw. General Bucher, now commander-in-chief of the Indian Army, was unimpressed by the item, which, he wrote, ‘looked not unlike a very superior wash stand’.3 He also cringed when the orderly making the presentation, ‘dressed in a costume which resembled that nowadays worn by attendants at Bertram Mills Circus’, became entangled in his spurs. Yet Mountbatten, with his eye for ornamental symbolism, had not failed to mark the final severing of the imperial link between India and Burma.
Out in the Shan hills of eastern Burma, where Balwant Singh, the district magistrate of Indian descent, was now posted, the ceremonies were more prosaic. Balwant Singh felt a thrill of anticipation as the Union Flag was lowered and the Burmese flag went up in that chilly early morning. Yet, he remembered,
somehow our ceremony seemed mundane and the newly liberated citizenry unconcerned. When