The Pacification of Burma

by C. H. T. Crosthwaite

In Lower Burma the towns and villages showed their wonted comfort and prosperity, the boats were as numerous as ever, and the rice and other produce was waiting in abundance at the landing-places for the steamers. The disturbances had had little effect on trade.

The country inland to the west of the river was still harassed by predatory gangs in the wilder parts, and the police did not appear able to suppress them.

There was no need, however, for the aid of the soldiers. I was able to reduce the number of outposts occupied by troops, and I would have reduced them still more, but that the General Commanding in Lower Burma was unable to provide barrack-room for the men occupying them. It was clearly time to take up the question of reducing the garrison of Lower Burma.

It was not a good thing to accustom the civil officers, the police, or the people to depend on detachments of troops scattered over the country, and it certainly was not good for the discipline and efficiency of the men. The conduct of the soldiers, however, was excellent, and the people welcomed them. I found a general unwillingness to lose the sense of security which their presence gave; and possibly also the profits of dealings with them. The Indian soldiers and the Burmans were on excellent terms. Even where the men were quartered in the monasteries the Pongyis did not want them to leave.[18]

At Thayetmyo the region of dacoit gangs and disturbances was reached. The main trouble appeared to be in what may be termed Bo Swè's country, which lay on the right bank of the river, reaching from the old British Burma boundary to a line going westward with a slight southerly curve from Minhla to the Arakan mountains. Part of the trouble I thought arose from the fact that the jurisdiction of the Lower Burma command had been extended so as to cover this country, while the civil jurisdiction belonged to the Minbu district of Upper Burma. This impeded free communication between the civil and military authorities. I transferred the tract to Thayetmyo, made it a subdivision of that district, and put a young and energetic officer in charge. The tract across the river was similarly treated.

I was now in Upper Burma again. Minbu on both sides of the river (it extended to both banks at this time) was very disturbed. Ôktama's power was not broken. Villages were attacked and burnt, and friendly headmen were murdered.

Pagan, the next district, was not much better; and divided as it was by the river, and containing the troublesome Yaw tract, the civil authorities were somewhat handicapped. From Pagan I crossed over to Pakokku, even then a fine trading town and the centre, as it still is, of the boat-building industry. The town in 1887 had a population of about 5,000, which had increased in 1901 to 19,000. It was well laid out with handsome avenues of tamarind-trees. Standing on good sandy soil and well drained, it was a fine site for the headquarters of a district.

The town and its neighbourhood had been skilfully governed by a lady, the widow of the old Governor, who had died thirty years before. Her son, a very fat and apparently stupid youth, was titular town-mayor (Myo-thugyi); but because he was suspected of playing false, through fear of the insurgents, he had been superseded, and a stranger from Lower Burma appointed as magistrate.

The wisdom of importing men from Lower Burma was always, to my mind, doubtful, and in this case was peculiarly open to objection, as it was a slight to the widow, who was undoubtedly an able woman, and had joined the British cause from the first.