Pagodas and paradoxes

A fascinating, if depressing, read, Bertil Lintner’s The Golden Land Ablaze provides a thorough analysis of the troubles in contemporary Myanmar

- Thangkhanlal Ngaihte

My home in the bustling town of Lamka, officially called Churachandpur, in Manipur, is about 60 km from the Myanmar border. Yet, the country, which was officially called Burma until 1989, always feels distant and dreamy. In the 1980s and’90s, we grew up listening to melodious Zo songs originating from the Tedim area of the Chin Hills.

Enraptured by movies such as Tui Bawsa Kiluak Kik Theilou, we paid a hard-earned Rs 5 to watch them in video halls.

As for the people, the ones I remember best are the Tahan traders who came selling fancy tape recorders in our village. They spoke our language but had a different accent. We always knew we were the same people though we lived on this side of the border and they on the other side. The 2021 military coup in Myanmar and the state of anarchy unleashed in its wake, followed by the 2023 Manipur communal flare up that is also unresolved, made me realise how little I know about the sleepy country next door. I can't make out who is fighting whom, and for what. Some blame “Burmese refugees” for instigating the Manipur crisis, making it sound like the streets of Churachandpur are overflowing with such immigrants, Those of us who live here are left wondering where those refugees are hiding.

Bertil Lintner’s