Military's monopoly on distributing aid complicates even small acts of charity

MA NGAY GYI, MYANMAR - When one of Myanmar's best-known movie stars, Kyaw Dhyu, traveled through the Irrawaddy Delta to deliver aid to the victims of the May 3 cyclone, a military patrol stopped him as he was handing out bags of rice.

"The officer told him, 'You cannot give directly to the people,' " said Tin Win, the village headman of the city of Dedaye, who had been counting on the rice to feed 260 refugees sleeping in a Buddhist prayer hall.

The politics of food aid -- deciding who gets to deliver assistance to those homeless and hungry after the cyclone -- is not just confined to the dispute between Myanmar's military junta and Western governments and outside relief agencies.

Even Myanmar citizens who want to donate rice or other aid have in several cases been told that all assistance must be channeled through the military. This restriction has angered local officials such as Tin Win, who are trying to help rebuild the lives of villagers. He twitched with rage as he described the rice the military gave him.

"They gave us four bags," he said. "The rice is rotten -- even the pigs and dogs wouldn't eat it."

He said the office of the U.N. High Commissioner for refugees had delivered good rice to the local military leaders last week but they kept it for themselves and distributed the waterlogged, musty rice. "I'm very angry," he said.

At least 1.5 million people were severely affected by the storm, and outside relief agencies fear the officially reported deaths, which rose to more than 28,000 Sunday, could escalate if the military does not allow in foreign aid. But with more than a week since the storm hit, the junta was still permitting only a few planeloads of outside supplies to land and was refusing to grant visas to most foreign aid workers.

For the ruling generals, who have held power for more than four decades in Myanmar, the restrictions on aid and how it is distributed are part of their overriding priority of showing who is in control and of cultivating the image that they alone are the nation's benevolent providers.

While the generals have permitted some token relief efforts by wealthy citizens, the junta is not allowing some prominent domestic donors to help for political reasons.

Kyaw Dhyu, for example, is perceived as unfriendly to the military because he assisted monks who protested against the government during the demonstrations last year -- and was jailed for a month.

In Yangon, Myanmar's largest city, and where 70 percent of the trees were uprooted by the storm, most residents remained without power. The price of gasoline has tripled and doubled for rice, candles and corrugated tin, used for roofing.

Privately, some residents showed flashes of resentment. "These military men are notorious," said a college student in Yangon whose family had to buy seven panels of corrugated tin to repair their roof. "They get these supplies free. They are donated by other countries, then the military receives them and sells them to the people."