| Traveling
across Burma, I ask people why they want democracy.
Very often the answer is, "We just want
to be free." They do not have to elaborate.
I understand what they mean. They want to be
able to live their lives without the oppressive
sense that their destiny is not theirs to shape.
They do not want their daily existence to be
ruled by the orders and whims of those whose
authority is based on might of arms.
When I ask young people what they mean by freedom,
they say that they want to be able to speak
their minds. They want to be able to voice their
discontent with an education system that does
not challenge their intellect. They want to
be able to discuss, criticize, argue; to be
able to gather in the thousands or even hundreds
of thousands to sing, to shout, to cheer. Burma's
young people want to play out the vitality of
their youth in its full spectrum of hope and
wonder--its uncertainties, its arrogance, its
fancies, its brilliance, it rebelliousness,
its harshness, its tenderness.
What do the women of Burma want? They tell me
that they want to be free from the tyranny of
rising prices that make a household an exhausting
business. They want to be free from anxiety
that their husbands might be penalized for independent
thinking--or that their children might not be
given a chance in life. Many -- too many --
long to be free from having to sell their bodies
to support their families.
The farmers and peasants I meet want to sow
and plant as they wish, to be able to market
their products at will, unhampered by the coercion
to sell it to the state at cruelly low prices.
They struggle daily with the land. They do not
want unreasonable decrees and incomprehensible
authority to add to their burden.
And what about those of us in the National League
of Democracy? Why are we working so hard to
free our country? Is it not that we see democracy
through a haze of optimism. We know that democracy
is a jewel that must be polished constantly
to maintain its luster. To prevent it from being
damaged or stolen, democracy must be guarded
and unremitting vigilance.
We are working so hard for freedom because only
in a free Burma will we be able to build a nation
that respects and cherishes human dignity.
As I travel through my country, people often
ask me how it feels to have been imprisoned
in my home --first for six years, then for 19
months. How could I stand the separation from
family and friends? It is ironic, I say, that
in an authoritarian state it is only the prisoner
of conscience who is genuinely free. Yes, we
have given up our right to a normal life. But
we have stayed true to that most precious part
of our humanity--our conscience.
Here is what I want most for my people: I want
the security of genuine freedom and the freedom
of genuine security. I would like to see the
crippling fetters of fear removed, that the
people of Burma may be able to hold their heads
high as free human beings. I would like to see
them striving in unity and joy to build a safer,
happier society for us all.
I would especially like to see our younger people
stride confidently into the future, their richness
of spirit soaring to meet all challenges. I
would like to be able to say: "This is
a nation worthy of all those who loved it and
lived and died for it--that we might be proud
of our heritage." These are not dreams.
These constitute the reality towards which we
have been working for years, firm in our faith
that the will of the people will ultimately
triumph.
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