Member Reviews
Today, I happened to read the article Back to ‘Normal’: Rethinking State–Society Relations in Myanmar by Htet Hlaing Win. In this article, Htet Hlaing Win argues that successive Myanmar governments, influenced by pre-modern Burmese rulers, have historically prioritised the protection and promotion of Buddhism over addressing the needs of the people, even during U Nu’s government between 1948 and 1962. This perspective echoes Clare Hammond’s exploration of Myanmar’s railways, which also reveals a pattern of state priorities skewed towards control rather than public service.
I find it puzzling why the trend of Myanmar’s governance tends to focus on religious and military objectives at the expense of public welfare. It goes against the principle of social contract as traditionally understood. Rather than “a government for the people”, Myanmar is best described as “a government at the expense of the people”. This pattern was momentarily disrupted during the quasi-democratic period from 2011 to 2021 when civilian concerns were briefly prioritised. However, the 2021 military coup marked a return to the "normal" state of affairs, where the government once again neglected public welfare in favour of religious and military pursuits.
Hammond’s journey, detailed in her exploration beginning in 2016, takes place during this quasi-democratic period under Daw Aung San Suu Kyi and her National League for Democracy (NLD) party. During this time, she encountered Myanmar’s railways as largely dysfunctional and disconnected relics of a bygone era. Her difficulties were compounded by the fact that many areas in Myanmar were off-limits to foreigners, even during this transitional period. She began her journey from Dawei in the Tanintharyi Region, deep in southern Myanmar, all the way to the north where the Shan States border China, traversing territories that are controlled by various ethnic armed organisations ruling the peripheries of Myanmar where illicit economies are dominant and rule of law nonexistent.
Delving deeper, Hammond reveals that these railways were originally designed by British colonisers and later maintained by the Tatmadaw (Myanmar’s military) not to serve the public but to project power into remote areas, facilitating resource extraction and military movements. This historical context mirrors the broader political landscape in Myanmar, where the state has consistently prioritised religious and military goals over the welfare of its citizens. For example, the military’s ongoing airstrikes on areas controlled by resistance forces, regardless of civilian conditions, result in high civilian casualties, reflecting a continued disregard for public welfare.
Hammond’s examination of Myanmar’s railways thus serves as a microcosm of broader state-society relations in the country. The railways, like the government’s approach to public health and welfare, have been used to assert control rather than to serve the people genuinely. This dynamic is starkly illustrated by the military junta’s neglect of public health during the COVID-19 pandemic, which led to widespread suffering and death as local aid groups and civil society organisations stepped in to fill the void left by the state. When viewed alongside Htet Hlaing Win’s insights, Hammond’s work paints a comprehensive picture of a country where the state’s priorities have long been misaligned with the needs of its people, resulting in a persistent history of suffering, resistance, and survival.
“On the Shadow Tracks” is an extraordinary and vivid reportage and an exciting travel writing book. It demanded from its author, not only curiosity and awareness but also physical courage and persistence. Hammond striped the book’s subject from all the old cliches and instead focused insistently on giving them a voice. This tragic story of trains and dictators is a remarkable manifestation of useful and enticing travel writing in the present day.
Having travelled through Myanmar, sometimes by train in the time that this was written, I thought this was a very good book. It was written in a tiny window of opportunity when the future of Myanmar looked good and the people relaxed and were willing to talk. The writing is very accessible for a general reader, and it is genuinely interesting because it is essentially a book about people. The picture of life in Myanmar is vivid and heartbreaking. Clare Hammond is a tenacious and indefatigable author who gets so much out of her interviewees, but then transcribes it well, keeping it very readable. It is a long time since I have read a travel book with such depth. For me this is an important book, which I hope wins some prizes.