Myanmar in Transition: Opportunities and Challenges, released by ADB last week, is a useful and important report. It has fewer than 40 pages of text – but is packed with data and analysis. The headline story (from page vii) has been widely reported: “Myanmar could grow at 7%-8% for a decade or more and raise its per capita income to $2,000-$3,000 by 2030.”

To deliver on that, three basic policy requirements are drawn from Asian experience: stable money through low inflation; high domestic savings to finance investment; and a structural shift towards industry and services to boost productivity, exports and employment. Alongside these core recommendations, the report argues for investment in human capital and infrastructure, sound institutions and social stability, and adherence to market mechanisms for resource allocation. It also surveys possible problems and constraints.

I’m especially interested in what the ADB has to say about education – on pages 25-27. In truth it’s not much, but the data are helpful. Important recent progress saw the gross primary completion rate rise to 103 percent in 2010 – though I’m not entirely sure what that means. By contrast, net enrollment in secondary education lags at around 53-58 percent, and for tertiary education the figures are even lower. Moreover, beyond the primary level problems of education quality, management and investment are acute.

To tackle the major education challenges facing Myanmar, many policy changes need to be made inside the country – there’s a substantial domestic agenda here. At the same time, though, it’s hard to see how the situation can be turned around without significant external engagement. One way or another, human resource needs to be shipped into the country from outside and blended with local teaching. This looks to be the only way that a step change in education will be made, and further wastage of young, formative years averted.

Philip Jablon has a really nice DVB piece on Myanmar’s fading cinemas. He notes that between independence in 1948 and Ne Win’s coup in 1962, picture houses were built in record numbers. In Rangoon, the junction of Bogyoke Aung San Road and Sule Pagoda Road at one time saw 14 movie theatres stretch away in the four different directions. Moreover, the city for years boasted major studios such as A1, British Burma and New Burma producing some of the best films in Southeast Asia. In a non-aligned nation, they jockeyed for position with output from all over the world. “Domestic productions aside, a trip to a cinema hall in the 1950’s could have been spent watching a film from India, China, the Soviet Union, Singapore, Japan, Britain or, of course, the standard Hollywood fare.” In the 1960s, the range of movies on show declined considerably as Burma cut itself off from the world, and attendances started to fall too. In a non-developing country, though, many cinemas survived. The chances are that will now change. Jablon’s article contains many lovely photos of the theatres that may soon be lost.

Those were the words of “a well-known and wealthy businessman” asked by Irrawaddy editor Kyaw Zwa Moe about bribery, corruption, graft and nepotism in transitional Myanmar. Of course, there are now some trappings of good governance. One year ago an anti-corruption commission was set up. One month ago President Thein Sein identified bribery as one of the biggest challenges facing the country. But any attempt by journalists to investigate this major public enemy are met with threats of censorship and aggressive legal action. The latest story finds the Irrawaddy blacklisted by Yangon Region Chief Minister Myint Swe for graft revelations relating to a multi-billon city expansion project. “Our investigation was not intensive, but it did reveal the tip of a rampant practice of nepotism among high-ranking officials in the current central and local governments.” It’s at times like this that the full meaning of discipline-flourishing democracy becomes apparent – constrain democracy enough to enable good old ways of doing things to continue undisturbed.

Good luck to Pansodan Scene for the Parasol Project, which launches tomorrow and runs through September 19. This is the online description: “Initiated by a community-based, doctor-directed grass-root organization, supporting healthcare for disadvantaged in the outskirts of Yangon, the exhibition will display during one week close to a hundred Pathein parasols, called pathein hti.” Each has been painted by hand, and more than 30 local artists have participated. During the course of the one-week show, every parasol will be available for bidding through silent auction. The starting price is $200. Proceeds will be used to support healthcare charges for low-cost, basic treatments at clinics offering year-round access mainly in Yangon. It’s another fabulous Pansodan initiative.

René Nyberg, former Finnish ambassador to Russia (2000-04) and Germany (2004-08), had an interesting op-ed in last week’s New York Times. The immediate context was the Ukraine crisis. As he made clear, though, the actual topic was how small states might deal with big neighbours. More technically, how can such countries manage the asymmetric power relationship they face?

Nyberg notes that Russian history generates two main models for handling bordering territories. One is absorption. The other is recognition (because the territory in question is either Russia’s equal, or too large to confront). The single modern state that fits neither pattern is Finland. How come? The true story of Finlandization, he writes, is this: “Finland remained true to its principles: credible defense and a strong free-market system.” That is, Helsinki made clear first that it intended to assert its independence (notably by repelling Red Army offensives in 1939 and 1944), and second that both Finland and Russia would suffer if it was precluded from joining the unfolding project of European economic integration.

I find this analysis intriguing. In the Myanmar context, though, a question that arises is how to stop the military from exploiting a situation of asymmetric power? Roughly a decade after Finland had faced down Russia’s Red Army, Burma was confronted with incursion by China’s People’s Army and other forces as the 1949 revolution threatened to spill over onto its territory. When appeals to the UN were disregarded, it did what any rational state would do – built up its defensive capacity. The problem was that the military arm of the state soon became so powerful that it simply seized political control. The rest, as they say, is history.

How does a country like Burma or Finland, a small state with a big neighbour, prevent this from happening? Do you also need a receptive external political environment? Was it the potent attraction of the nascent EU (initially no more than a six-country European Economic Community) that enabled Finland to take a successful path, and the lack of such a magnet that condemned Burma to failure?

In Southeast Asia, Joe Cochrane argued at the end of last week, Indonesia is an unlikely transitional success story. Yes, indeed. In 16 years since the fall of Suharto, it has become “a role model for peaceful, democratic transfers of power in Southeast Asia, a region where they are becoming increasingly rare”. How did that happen? Cochrane points to two key factors. One is that, “unlike in Thailand, post-Suharto civilian leaders in Indonesia sidelined the armed forces from politics”. The other is a “bold move to regional autonomy” taken soon after the collapse of the authoritarian regime, which “broke Jakarta’s political monopoly and prevented the emergence of a new, dominant national political force”. In a country marked by considerable corruption, discrimination and violence, there’s still much to do. Nevertheless, on both counts there are absolutely critical lessons here for Myanmar. Can they be learned, though, when establishment figures retain tight control over the reform process?

Today in New York the High-level Advisory Panel on the Responsibility to Protect in Southeast Asia will present its initial report to the UN. The title is “Mainstreaming the Responsibility to Protect in Southeast Asia: Pathway towards a Caring ASEAN Community”. The five-member panel was established in April 2013 in response to a UN request. It is chaired by Dr Surin Pitsuwan, former Secretary-General of ASEAN, and supported by a secretariat comprising Professor Alex Bellamy from the University of Queensland, and Professor Mely Caballero Anthony from Nanyang Technological University. It regards this report as the first of many R2P steps.

It has to be said that no more than a baby step is taken here. Over the past few days only the introduction and executive summary have been available online. Clearly, though, the full report will not diverge much from the very brief document in which they appear. The main message that emerges is this: R2P is a perfect fit with everything ASEAN is already doing. This is from page 1: “The concepts and norms of the Responsibility to Protect converge with ASEAN’s vision of a peaceful, just, democratic, people-centered and caring community in Southeast Asia.” This is from pages 2-3: “promoting the Responsibility to Protect is a logical extension of ASEAN’s own commitment to building a responsible, caring community that supports its members to protect its peoples, promotes their well-being, respects their human rights and ensures their security.”

The report does make some recommendations for raising R2P awareness throughout ASEAN, and for building both state and civil society capacity to deal with problems. That’s good. Overall, though, little is said to indicate how R2P might dovetail with ASEAN’s foundational norm of non-interference. Instead, the report contents itself mainly with rather meaningless blather. This is, for instance, the first sentence: “Mainstreaming the Responsibility to Protect in Southeast Asia could make a significant contribution to the establishment of a ‘sharing and caring’ ASEAN Community, which the Association’s Member States aspire to achieve in 2015.” You read that and understand immediately that you shouldn’t set your sights too high.

After months of sourcing censored paintings, and paintings that evaded the censors, Ian and I will launch our exhibit Banned in Burma on Monday, October 20, 2014 at the Nock Art Foundation warehouse in Hong Kong. We were fortunate to be introduced to Michael Nock, an Australian artist and avid collector who is a long-time Hong Kong resident and patron of the arts. He embraced our goal of introducing to Hong Kong the amazing range of art produced in Myanmar, and he’s eager to give artists who experienced censorship a chance to exhibit their work abroad. We also have a long association with Pyay Way of Nawaday Tharlar Gallery in Yangon, and have collaborated closely with him to source paintings. The show will open at the Nock Art Foundation warehouse space in Wong Chuk Hang for three weeks from October 20 to November 9. It will then move to the Hong Kong Visual Arts Centre in Central for three days from November 29 to December 1. We plan to feature around 50 paintings and some exciting interactive events. Stay tuned for more details of our opening night. And please like our Banned in Burma Facebook page!

Melissa Carlson is a recent graduate of Johns Hopkins University – SAIS and is interested in censorship, national identity, and painting in Myanmar.

It’s good to see the Irrawaddy rerun a November 2012 interview with Amitav Ghosh, author of the internationally acclaimed novel The Glass Palace. There’s more to chew on here than in a dozen standard news items. Mostly, you find yourself endorsing what Ghosh has to say. On one matter, though, I’m not so sure.

Near the start of the interview, Ghosh is asked this question: “The last time you were in Burma was 1997. What differences have you noticed after 15 years?” This is the first part of his reply: “It is like going from one planet to another. It’s so different. It’s almost unbelievable, and I was told in fact that most of these changes actually occurred in the last 12 months, which is truly staggering because the visual landscape has changed so much.”

Without doubt that’s the case in Yangon. Elsewhere, though, it’s striking how little things have changed. Recently Lin San Letpanpya posted on Facebook some lovely photos of Burma in 1971 – people shopping at markets, families visiting pagodas, that sort of thing. In them, there’s almost nothing to set 1971 apart from 2011. Maybe the longyi were a little more psychedelic then – the sixties having a small impact on Burma in the early seventies. Beyond that, the faces, the markets, the evident poverty all look much the same across 40 years.

Today, certainly, someone even in a Myanmar market or pagoda would be holding a mobile phone. Now maybe things finally are changing everywhere. For most people for most of the past half-century, however, that has not been the case. In the words of The Rocky Horror Show, the cult musical from 1973, Burma for decades was stuck in a time warp.

Here’s a terrific initiative – “Ambitious Alignments: New Histories of Southeast Asian Art”. It’s organized by the Power Institute at the University of Sydney, the National Gallery Singapore (still under construction), and the Institute of Technology, Bandung. It’s funded by the Connecting Art Histories grant programme at the Getty Foundation. The aim is to enable early career scholars and curators from Southeast Asia to research particularly the decades from 1945 to 1990, defined by decolonization, independence, struggles for democracy, and the geopolitics of the Cold War. In the case of Burma, Andrew Ranard’s Burmese Painting: A Linear and Lateral History, published in 2009, is absolutely fabulous. But I’m sure he’d be the first to admit that it says rather more about pre-colonial and especially colonial times than it does about sovereign, modern Burma. Other studies have also been undertaken, in both Burmese and English, but none comes close to comprehensive coverage of the period. Additionally, the comparative aspect of this initiative is certain to add fascinating fresh perspectives. There’s abundant work to be done, and doing it now while at least some artists who lived through those years are still around makes very great sense.