Remembering the true spirit of Burmese national reconciliation

Fergus Harlow Zeya Thaw didn’t want to talk about torture when journalist and author Alan Clements interviewed him in 2016. “If you are filled with hatred, you can’t move forward. If your mind is filled with anger, you can’t think clearly. Your judgement will be tainted.” As Aung San Suu Kyi’s aide and MP for Naypyidaw, Zeya Thaw sat in parliament with those who had imprisoned, tortured, and killed friends and family. “Our Lady is a very good example,” he’d said. “She is sitting by the one who ordered her house arrest.” For those who lived it, national reconciliation was never a cynical ploy or empty, self-serving slogan. “I had to order myself to accept them,” U Win Htein, Aung San Suu Kyi’s closest confidant, told Clements at the beginning of a series of interviews that would span years. “At first, they were scared of us. They said, ‘After so long in prison, how can you still eat like normal people, laugh like ordinary people? ’ But I made it clear, we will not take revenge against those who have tortured us, we will not lead with a personal grudge. That is Dhamma.” U Tin Oo, an NLD co-founder, had frequently described the spirit of national reconciliation to Clements ever since their time together as monks. “Where are we going to find alternatives?