The last time a UN secretary-general arrived in Burma he ignited bloody riots in the streets—even though he was dead.
The clashes in 1974 between students who welcomed home the body of Burma-born U Thant as a national hero and soldiers of a government leery of the United Nations are part of the long history of tensions between Burma and the world body.
That history, rife with suspicions and failures, forms the backdrop as current UN chief, Ban Ki-moon, visits on a trip aimed at opening the country to more international aid for its cyclone survivors.
Trying to take a lead role, the United Nations has repeatedly announced "breakthroughs" in its efforts to restore democracy in Burma, improve human rights and free detained Nobel Peace Prize winner Aung San Suu Kyi.
The isolationist generals, in turn, have enticed the UN's procession of special envoys with vague promises, then slammed the door behind them and continued marching to their own tune. Suu Kyi is still under house arrest and political prisoners languish in jails.
The last envoy, Ibrahim Gambari, remains the butt of jokes among many in Burma, after his futile attempts to revive a moribund dialogue between Suu Kyi and the generals late last year.
Ban arrived in Burma Thursday hoping to persuade the ruling junta—deeply suspicious of all outsiders—to allow the international community greater access to hundreds of thousands of victims of a cyclone increasingly at risk from disease and starvation.
The UN's mission this time may be humanitarian, but the military men have always viewed relations with the world through a dark, political prism. Ban's effort, therefore, may yield limited results.
"I hold serious doubts that any demonstrable, long term benefits will flow to the Burmese people from the secretary-general's visit except that Burmese people are delighted with the international awareness of their plight," says Monique Skidmore, a Burma expert at Australian National University.
Some Burmese people shared that pessimism.
"What can he do? He can't do anything. People are hopeful of course. Then all hope crashes when he leaves. The generals don't care what the UN says," said Khyaw Htun Htun, a businessman donating food to victims at a monastery in Rangoon, Burma's largest city. Others interviewed had similar comments.
UN agencies have in the past few years been able to bolster aid to the impoverished Southeast Asian country and gain some measure of trust at the local level. A basic humanitarian infrastructure built by the UN was able to go into action when the Cyclone Nargis struck May 2-3 despite obstacles thrown up by the regime.
But the nation's rulers view the United Nations as having shed its neutrality and now marshaled against them through the lobbying efforts of the United States and other powerful Western nations.
"The generals think the UN is deeper in the US pocket than ever before. They are fearful that UN aid agencies are there in camouflage for the regime-change agenda," says Thant Myint-U, a former UN official and grandson of U Thant, the ex-secretary general whose international and domestic popularity aroused jealousy in then-dictator Ne Win.
Ne Win's refusal for a state funeral when U Thant's body arrived in Burma in 1974 sparked angry students to snatch the coffin. In an ensuing confrontation with troops a still unknown number of protesters were gunned down.
The regime now sees only few friends in the world body, notably Security Council members China and Russia which frequently block resolutions inimical to the regime.
"The UN has been so locked into this political change that it doesn't have a more general relationship with the government which could have been so valuable at a time like this," says Thant Myint-U.
On the eve of Ban's arrival, Burma shunned a US proposal for naval ships to deliver aid to cyclone victims, according to state-controlled media, which cited fears of an American invasion aimed at grabbing the country's oil reserves.
Skidmore said the generals might make use of Ban's visit to repair Burma's battered image, repeating what she says are the many "cycles of engagement"—promises made by the junta while Burma is in the international spotlight, then broken or ignored when that spotlight fades.
David Steinberg, a veteran Burma watcher from Georgetown University, says the junta will likely play up Ban's presence as evidence of their international and domestic legitimacy. And Steinberg said it was important to massage the generals' egos.
"We have to work out a deal with them where they perceive that we are giving them some dignity and at the same time, we're achieving our critical objectives," Steinberg said.
The clashes in 1974 between students who welcomed home the body of Burma-born U Thant as a national hero and soldiers of a government leery of the United Nations are part of the long history of tensions between Burma and the world body.
That history, rife with suspicions and failures, forms the backdrop as current UN chief, Ban Ki-moon, visits on a trip aimed at opening the country to more international aid for its cyclone survivors.
Trying to take a lead role, the United Nations has repeatedly announced "breakthroughs" in its efforts to restore democracy in Burma, improve human rights and free detained Nobel Peace Prize winner Aung San Suu Kyi.
The isolationist generals, in turn, have enticed the UN's procession of special envoys with vague promises, then slammed the door behind them and continued marching to their own tune. Suu Kyi is still under house arrest and political prisoners languish in jails.
The last envoy, Ibrahim Gambari, remains the butt of jokes among many in Burma, after his futile attempts to revive a moribund dialogue between Suu Kyi and the generals late last year.
Ban arrived in Burma Thursday hoping to persuade the ruling junta—deeply suspicious of all outsiders—to allow the international community greater access to hundreds of thousands of victims of a cyclone increasingly at risk from disease and starvation.
The UN's mission this time may be humanitarian, but the military men have always viewed relations with the world through a dark, political prism. Ban's effort, therefore, may yield limited results.
"I hold serious doubts that any demonstrable, long term benefits will flow to the Burmese people from the secretary-general's visit except that Burmese people are delighted with the international awareness of their plight," says Monique Skidmore, a Burma expert at Australian National University.
Some Burmese people shared that pessimism.
"What can he do? He can't do anything. People are hopeful of course. Then all hope crashes when he leaves. The generals don't care what the UN says," said Khyaw Htun Htun, a businessman donating food to victims at a monastery in Rangoon, Burma's largest city. Others interviewed had similar comments.
UN agencies have in the past few years been able to bolster aid to the impoverished Southeast Asian country and gain some measure of trust at the local level. A basic humanitarian infrastructure built by the UN was able to go into action when the Cyclone Nargis struck May 2-3 despite obstacles thrown up by the regime.
But the nation's rulers view the United Nations as having shed its neutrality and now marshaled against them through the lobbying efforts of the United States and other powerful Western nations.
"The generals think the UN is deeper in the US pocket than ever before. They are fearful that UN aid agencies are there in camouflage for the regime-change agenda," says Thant Myint-U, a former UN official and grandson of U Thant, the ex-secretary general whose international and domestic popularity aroused jealousy in then-dictator Ne Win.
Ne Win's refusal for a state funeral when U Thant's body arrived in Burma in 1974 sparked angry students to snatch the coffin. In an ensuing confrontation with troops a still unknown number of protesters were gunned down.
The regime now sees only few friends in the world body, notably Security Council members China and Russia which frequently block resolutions inimical to the regime.
"The UN has been so locked into this political change that it doesn't have a more general relationship with the government which could have been so valuable at a time like this," says Thant Myint-U.
On the eve of Ban's arrival, Burma shunned a US proposal for naval ships to deliver aid to cyclone victims, according to state-controlled media, which cited fears of an American invasion aimed at grabbing the country's oil reserves.
Skidmore said the generals might make use of Ban's visit to repair Burma's battered image, repeating what she says are the many "cycles of engagement"—promises made by the junta while Burma is in the international spotlight, then broken or ignored when that spotlight fades.
David Steinberg, a veteran Burma watcher from Georgetown University, says the junta will likely play up Ban's presence as evidence of their international and domestic legitimacy. And Steinberg said it was important to massage the generals' egos.
"We have to work out a deal with them where they perceive that we are giving them some dignity and at the same time, we're achieving our critical objectives," Steinberg said.
