Four years in Upper Burma

by W. R. Winston

The British Government, whilst very stern in pursuing, arresting and punishing these notorious outlaws, made every concession towards mercy where it was possible. When a gang of dacoits was broken up, and the boh killed or taken, the men composing it were usually allowed to settle down in their villages, giving some sort of guarantee for their future good behaviour. As soon as it became safe to show any considerable leniency, the cases of all who had been sentenced to terms of penal servitude for participating in dacoity were carefully gone through by an experienced and able judicial commissioner, for the purpose of remitting the punishment wherever it could safely be done, particularly in cases where men had been led, during a time of anarchy and political excitement, to take part in crimes and acts of violence, from which, under ordinary circumstances, they would have abstained. The result was that 899 prisoners were set at liberty at once, and 450 more were promised their release in the following December if their conduct in jail continued good. Only the worst and most desperate offenders were kept in jail.

It is just possible that some readers, failing to realise the full force of all the circumstances, may be inclined to think that the information given in this chapter leans too much in the direction of admiration of the military deeds described, and is lacking in consideration for the case of the unfortunate men against whom these operations were directed. I feel that it would ill become me to do anything to fan the flame of the military spirit, for militarism is without doubt one of the great curses of this age, and I have had no such design in view. I have merely described what took place. If the reader feels inclined to admire any of the actions here described, I must give him notice that he does it entirely on his own responsibility.

It may occur to the reader that perhaps after all it was the spirit of patriotism that animated these Burmans. Were they not fighting for their country and their liberty, and doing their feeble best to cast out the invader? Doubtless there was in some cases something of this feeling in their minds, enough to give a colourable pretext to their conduct at the time. But there are considerations that go to show that if we are to make any allowance on this account it will have to be very little.

Dacoity existed and was rampant for years prior to our annexation of the country.

How is the motive of patriotism to be reconciled with the gross cruelty, and robbery, and murder which all the dacoit bands continually practised?

When so many hundreds of bohs were fighting, each for his own hand, which were we to recognise? And how many? Their claims to the mastery were mutually antagonistic.

I have already said that I decline to take the responsibility either of defending or of impeaching the action of England in the invasion of Upper Burma. It involves the great and wide question of Empire, which I leave to more competent hands. I content myself with giving the facts from the standpoint of an eyewitness, and enabling or assisting wiser men to settle the greater question. I take up the question at this point—England the de facto ruler. Somehow, rightfully or wrongfully, she is there, and has undertaken the government of the country. The country is in a flame with crime and disorder. What is she to do?

There have been times, even in our own country, when certain crimes of violence, such as garotting, and certain forms of murder, have spread so as to cause almost a panic, and have needed special measures both as to detection and punishment. We are far more liable to such things in India. Take, for instance, that strange phase of crime known as “thuggee,” which prevailed to a fearful extent years ago in India, and to which, in respect of each being an epidemic form of crime, dacoity in Burma has sometimes been compared. Thuggee was a thoroughly organised system of robbery and murder, carried out with great secrecy by an association of men banded together for the purpose, and who did it not by open assault but by stealthy approaches, and, strangest of all, with religious motives. The verdict of civilised society was that the extermination of the thugs was not only a justifiable thing to be done, but the solemn duty of the Government, notwithstanding the religious motives, and special officers of Government were deputed for that purpose, and the system was finally stamped out.

So with dacoity. If men will be brutal, will set all law, human and divine, at defiance, will make human life cheap and property unsafe, and keep the whole country in terror and confusion, to the detriment of all peace and progress, if, in short, they will come to no terms, but deliberately elect to assume the character of wild beasts preying on society, then all reasonable men will feel constrained sorrowfully to admit that a civilised Government has no alternative but to treat them as such, and hunt them down; always however remembering that, as it is in the divine, so in the human administration, justice should be tempered with mercy; and wherever there is room to hope for better things, the criminal should have another chance, a provision which our Government, as I have shown, has not neglected.