A Tale of Two Tragedies
For students of world events, the study in contrasts between the reactions of the Chinese and Burmese governments to recent natural disasters has been an education in itself.
Within hours of the devastating earthquake in Sichuan Province, the Chinese Prime Minister appeared on television in the disaster zone flanked by rescue workers. At least from our vantage point in the West, it appears that the government is doing a remarkable job of mobilizing forces to rescue the many thousands of victims still buried alive.
Almost two weeks after Cyclone Nargis hit Burma, on the other hand, the only reports westerners get are of the ruling military junta’s refusal to accept international aid and the tide of rotten, bloated bodies flowing through the Irawaddy Delta.
Both tragedies have played out on an enormous scale: estimates of the dead in Burma reach up to 60,000 or even more; in China, the official death toll is approximately 13,000, but many times that number are still feared missing. Both disasters took place in countries governed by rulers who have more than once bee
n labeled “repressive.” In recent weeks, the Chinese government has been battered by protests of its policies in Tibet, most notably in disruptions of the Olympic torch as it made its way to Beijing for this summer’s Olympic Games. In 2005, the Burmese regime brutally cracked down on pro-democracy protests led by Buddhist monks, though details of the crackdown are still sketchy since most western media are banned from the country.
What is remarkable, though, is that the Chinese government, for all its autocratic and repressive tendencies, appears to be functioning in the 21st century and has become sensitive to international opinion — if not the good of its own people. The cynical may call the Chinese reaction a public relations campaign, but whatever its motivations, the rescue effort appears to have been swift and substantial. Even the Dalai Lama, no fan of Beijing, has praised the relief efforts. Meanwhile, the Burmese government remains trapped in some ageless isolationist land of paranoia. Even the normally conciliatory UN Secretary-General Ban-ki Moon has publicly chastised the Burmese government: “I want to register my deep concern — and immense frustration — at the unacceptably slow response to this grave humanitarian crisis,” he said yesterday.
On this morning’s front page, The New York Times delivered a fascinating analysis of the Chinese response to the earthquake, comparing it to the aftermath of the 1976 Tangshan Earthquake, which killed more than 240,000 people — when the government responded much the way Burma’s government has responded to Nargis. The article cautioned that China probably isn’t likely to become a democratic paradise any time soon, but that the response to the earthquake seems to signal a government that it is at least sensitive to world opinion, if not the opinion of its own people. (It may simply be that the Chinese government is trying to prove that a highly-centralized autocratic form of government has its benefits. Comparing the Chinese response to the earthquake to our own government’s response to Katrina could make for some very interesting classroom discussion.)
In When the Levees Broke, Wynton Marsalis called Hurricane Katrina a “signature moment” for the United States, one that would define who we are as a nation. The same could be said for China and Burma as they deal with these natural disasters. Exactly how those vastly different responses help define these nations is a topic well worth exploring with our students.
It is hard to imagine how a natural disaster such as
government responsibility we can’t afford to let slip by. Not only did the Burmese regime
On a recent train ride into New York City, I found myself scrunched up against three middle-school boys who were engaged in a rather animated discussion — not, to my surprise, about baseball or the latest casualty on American Idol, but about the presidential election.
ed on the poll of the day. They end up supporting the person who may make the best candidate, which may well have little to do with who will make the best president. Remember the 1972 film, The Candidate, in which Robert Redford becomes the unlikely winner of a California Senate race? The film ends with a victorious Redford turning to his campaign manager and asking, “What do we do now?”
Back in January, when we surveyed the presidential hopefuls’ stands on Katrina-related issues (see
This is the kind of story I’m a bit reluctant to share — because it’s hard to read it and not give in to complete despair.
The general difficulty in suing public agencies notwithstanding (see post of 4/8/08), it appears that at least one couple prevented from crossing the Crescent City Connection Bridge in the chaotic days following Katrina will get its day in court.