_THE PACIFICATION OF UPPER BURMA._
It has already been stated that Upper Burma, at the time of the
annexation, and for some time after, was politically and socially in a
state of serious disturbance and disorder. It may be well to inquire a
little more closely into this matter, that we may the better understand
the circumstances of the country as we found it, and the better
appreciate what has been done by way of remedy.
A state of disturbance was, under the circumstances, inevitable. An
invasion, followed by an annexation, is seldom a very quiet and peaceable
process, and this was no exception. But in this case there were features
that greatly complicated the matter, and made the task of pacifying and
governing much harder. When the expedition under General Prendergast
went up the Irrawaddy at the close of 1885 it was an easy victory, and
there was no resistance worth mentioning. Mandalay, the capital, yielded
without a blow. This easy conquest proved the inefficiency of the Burmans
as a Government, and led to the belief that very little trouble would be
experienced in governing the country. But this proved to be by no means
the case. For four years it has been one constant and strenuous battle
with the forces of disorder; and whatever has been done in the way of
pacification and improvement of the country has been done in the teeth of
difficulties of no ordinary character.
If the question be asked how it was that the country was so easy to
conquer yet so difficult to pacify and restore to order, the answer
is not far to seek. In the first place, the weaker a Government is
the stronger are the elements of crime and disorder lurking about, and
having overthrown the one you still have to reckon with the other. King
Theebaw’s was a weak Government, and crime and disorder had increased so
much that their reduction had become a formidable task.
The territory over which King Theebaw ruled, or professed to rule, was
of immense extent, and very sparsely populated, and the vast tracts of
jungle with hilly, broken country afforded ample cover for the numerous
bands of dacoits. Dacoity is the word used in India for gang robbery,
and it is usually accompanied with murder and various forms of cruelty.
It had always flourished in Upper Burma, and was unfortunately regarded
not as a cruel, brutal and detestable crime, to be put down by the united
efforts of the government and the people, but more as an acknowledged and
unavoidable institution.
We may find some parallels to this in brigandage in Southern Europe,
in the Border warfare so well described by Sir Walter Scott, and in
the state of things prevailing formerly in the West of England, as set
forth in _Lorna Doone_. The dacoit leaders were a kind of privileged
freebooters, who spared those who paid blackmail, and wreaked their
vengeance on others, and there was, in the opinion of the people, some
air of romance about the life. No Burmese Government had ever been strong
enough or resolute enough effectually to stamp out this plague. When the
English took the reins of government at the annexation, this naturally
gave a fresh impulse to dacoity under the notion of patriotism; and for
some time the leaders who had large gangs occasionally tried conclusions
with the small columns of police and military sent out to patrol the
country.
The Government official report of affairs in Upper Burma gives the
following summary of the first year’s work of pacification, viz., up to
the end of 1886.
“The pacification of the country has been a prolonged work of much
difficulty. Dacoity on the largest scale has been rampant; and military
operations have been necessary in almost every part of the country in
order to suppress it. To the end of the year 1886 about 180 encounters
had taken place with these lawless bands. They seldom offered serious
resistance, except when fighting in bush or jungle. The loss they caused
to the British troops between November 17th, 1885, and October 31st,
1886, amounted to 11 officers and 80 men, killed or died from wounds.
But greater difficulties than the armed opposition were found in the
dense jungle, the want of roads, and the unfavourable, in some cases
deadly, climate. The result of these difficulties during the period above
mentioned was a total loss of 3,053 officers and men, who died from
disease or had to be invalided. The average number of troops employed
in Upper Burma during 1886 has been 14,000, but at the end of 1886 the
number in the country was 25,000.”
So deep-rooted is the habit of dacoity in Burma that it easily breaks out
afresh whenever disorder spreads, or whenever any daring fellow thinks
fit to try his luck as a _boh_ or leader. The people are easily deluded
with his boast and swagger; and having implicit faith in the special
tattooing and charms which are warranted to render them bullet and sword
proof, they readily follow his standard. Hundreds of _bohs_ have had
their day during the last five years, and pursued a successful course of
robbery, murder and rebellion for months together, eluding the police and
the military. But owing to the tenacity of purpose, and the inexhaustible
resources of the British Government, they have to succumb in the end.
Many have been killed or taken prisoners in engagements fought; others
treacherously murdered by their own followers, to get the reward set on
the head of the notorious outlaw; others, after months of a hunted life
in the jungles, have come in and surrendered. There has been always ample
opportunity given by the British for those who wished to abandon that bad
way of life to do so, and more than once a free pardon has been offered
to all those who might give themselves up, provided that they had not
been guilty of murder. Many, from time to time, have availed themselves
of that arrangement.
[Illustration: DACOITS IN PRISON, WITH INDIAN SEPOY GUARD.]
Several princes—in Burma princes are fairly plentiful, notwithstanding
that so many were massacred by order of King Theebaw—have tried their
hands at it, with vague ideas of getting the mastery of the country in
due time. One, known by the title of the Sekkya Prince, established
himself in the hill country about Kyaukse, only thirty miles from
Mandalay, and as late as 1889 gave an immense amount of trouble, setting
the military police at defiance for months, and committing many murders
and depredations. He had an armed following of several hundreds, and
several fights took place between them and the police. Though the dacoits
were each time defeated and scattered, the ground was so difficult for
pursuit, that they could never catch the leader. At length he was taken
in the Shan States, brought to Kyaukse, tried, convicted and hanged. This
is a specimen of the kind of guerilla warfare going on in every district
all over the country at that time.
Another matter, which still further complicated the situation and gave
strength to the forces of disorder, was the sanction which dacoity had
received through the corruption of those high in office in the Burman
Government before we took it over. A British civil officer of high rank,
the commissioner of a division, writes as follows, as late as the middle
of 1889, more than three years after the annexation:—
“The task of reducing my own division to order I find a gigantic one. The
Burman nature is simply saturated with lawlessness, and it takes the form
of dacoity. Since King Mindohn’s death [_i.e._, from the accession of
King Theebaw in 1878] it is a fact that most of the official classes in
Upper Burma made large incomes by dacoity. Men high in office in Mandalay
actually kept dacoit _bohs_, and shared with them loot, or the subsidies
which were paid by the villagers for protection from other dacoits. The
dacoit _bohs_ were actually the governors, and paid some of the mingyees
[ministers of state] in Mandalay regular sums, on condition of being let
alone! Each _boh_ had a large immediate gang or body of men around him,
and a militia at any time available from the villages. We have had to
break up this system of _boh_ government all over Upper Burma, a system
which had been running for the last ten years. The villagers themselves
have become so accustomed to the government by dacoit chiefs, that they
are actually afraid and even unwilling to help in getting rid of them. It
will be admitted that difficulties like these are enormous; sometimes
they seem to be insuperable, and one is often inclined to despair. We
have not only to deal with the thousands of lawless ones who think we
are encroaching upon their rights, but we have to try and educate the
people to believe that these dacoits are not their rulers, and are not to
be so. The villagers do not yet realise this, and it is this process of
education, slow and painful, that impedes us so terribly in the work of
subjugation and pacification. But the progress made has been very great.”
The following is given as a specimen of the encounters which for the
first two or three years were of constant occurrence. This affair was
perhaps exceptional in the amount of resistance offered, but in other
respects quite usual and ordinary. It is quoted from a newspaper dated
May 1888:—
“On the night of the 21st inst. 400 dacoits, principally Shans, with
people from Mogaung district, under the leadership of Boh Ti, took up a
position outside Mogaung. Lieutenant O’Donnell, Battalion Commandant,
and Lieutenant Elliot, Assistant Commissioner, with 75 Goorkha military
police, patrolled outside the fort the whole night. At 4 A.M. they
attacked the dacoits, who held a strong position in a series of pagodas,
which they had fortified during the night. The dacoits tenaciously held
the position, and the consequence was that a fierce contest ensued,
each pagoda being taken in succession. The last pagoda, when taken, was
found to be choked with dead. The Goorkha police behaved splendidly.
Our casualties were 8 killed and 15 wounded, while 49 dead dacoits were
counted, and over 100 were reported as wounded, most of whom escaped. The
struggle at the last pagoda was hand to hand over a four-foot wall, and
bayonets and spears were used. It was here that 6 out of the 8 police
killed fell.”
The mention of these fights deserves a place in any record of those
times, for it was through this hard, rough police and military work—this
continuous pounding at the mass of crime and lawlessness that would
not yield to gentler measures—that the land now enjoys peace and quiet
throughout its length and breadth. There was manifestly no other way of
quelling the disorders and curing the miseries under which the country
groaned.
This was a specimen of the fighting of our Indian military police; now
for a specimen of that of our English soldiers, who also were incessantly
employed in patrolling the country, and often met with dacoit bands. The
instance given here does not by any means stand alone; similar affairs
often occurred at that time. It illustrates the courage and dash our
men have shown throughout this very laborious and difficult campaign.
Often called to go out in very small parties, they usually carried the
day against all odds; and even when, as in this instance, they met with
such an unusual number of casualties as to debar them from getting the
victory, their coolness and presence of mind have staved off defeat and
disaster, and enabled them to get through so well that the reverse was,
considering the circumstances, as creditable as a victory would have been.
“On January 14th, 1889, information reached Lieutenant Nugent, in
charge of a small force of the Hants Regiment, that the advanced guard
of a certain rebel prince was stockaded in a village ten miles away.
He at once decided to attack. He marched out with Sergeant Bevis and
15 privates, preceded by some of the troops, such as they were, of the
Sawbwa of Momeit. On turning the corner of a jungle path, their stockade
was observed with the gate shut, and white flags (emblematic of royalty)
flying at the gate. The dacoits, on seeing our men, at once began to
blow horns and beat tomtoms. Our Burmese auxiliaries at once made off,
firing their weapons in the air. Nevertheless Lieutenant Nugent and the
16 Englishmen promptly charged the stockade, 16 against 200! When about
thirty yards from the stockade the dacoits delivered such a heavy and
well-directed volley that 8 out of the 16 were hit. Private Roberts was
killed on the spot, and Lieutenant Nugent himself was wounded. Seeing
that himself and half his party were disabled, and further assault was
out of the question, Nugent gave the order to get the wounded from under
fire and retire. It is at this point that the soldierly qualities of
these men specially appear. The few men who were able had meanwhile got
under cover of a slight inequality in the ground, and were keeping up a
fire on the stockade. While himself assisting Private James, who was
dangerously wounded, Lieutenant Nugent was again struck a little below
the left breast, this time mortally.
“Sergeant Bevis now took the command, and rallied his small party round
their fallen officer, and seeing that the dacoits, now emboldened by
observing the small number opposed to them, were coming out at the gate,
he ordered his men to fire a volley. This caused the enemy to retire
inside the stockade, and our party was molested no more. Stretchers were
improvised with rifles and bamboos for Lieutenant Nugent and Private
James, the other wounded managing to walk. The party made a halt at the
village which they had passed marching out; and here the gallant Nugent
breathed his last. By dint of much pressure and promises of reward
Sergeant Bevis obtained assistance from the Sawbwa’s troops to carry the
body and the bad cases to Momeit.”
Sergeant Bevis was much commended for his good management. He was
promoted at once, and received the decoration of the Distinguished
Service Order. Five days after a small force of Hampshire men and
military police surprised and carried the stockade.
Many were the deeds of valour in this long and trying campaign. A
considerable number of badges of the Distinguished Service Order were
awarded, and of the highest decoration for gallantry in the field that
military men can aspire to, the Victoria Cross, no less than three were
given.
After what has been said about the Burmese ministers of the Crown, it
will be no matter of surprise that the honest attempt of the British
Government to utilise the local knowledge and experience of the Hloot
Daw or supreme council of the king, as the medium of government, should
entirely break down. As might have been expected, those worthies were
found to be worse than useless at such a crisis. The kind of government
they had been accustomed to administer was just the kind that was not
wanted. They were therefore pensioned off, the pension acting in a
twofold manner, as a substantial compensation for loss of office, and as
a guarantee of their loyalty; they had something to lose.
During the first year or two of the British occupation there was need
for very special vigilance to prevent the carrying out of plots of
insurrection, especially in Mandalay. It was of course childish to think
they could dislodge the British power, but many of the people were slow
to believe this, and foolish enough to listen to boasting proposals
of this kind. However, such a good watch was kept, and the officials
kept themselves so well informed, that all such attempts were nipped
in the bud. Some idea of the magnitude of the work of pacification may
be gathered from a paper published by the Chief Commissioner of Burma
in 1889, from which it appears that no less than 363 dacoit _bohs_ or
leaders were either killed, or surrendered, or were taken prisoners
between April 1887 and August 1889.
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.