Myanmar’s military regime has tried to recruit comedians in its propaganda war, but while some performers have chosen to serve the generals, many more are using their wit for the revolution.
By HEIN THAR | FRONTIER
In early August, a group of comedians gathered at Nay Pyi Taw’s City Hall.
They weren’t there to entertain an audience with wisecracks and witticisms. Instead, they held signs condemning the Myanmar National Democratic Alliance Army for allegedly killing more than 100 people, including hospital patients and staff, during an attack on a military hospital in Lashio town in northern Shan State.
The demonstrators were led by well-known comedy actor Dein Daung, chairman of the Myanmar Comedians’ Association, who told state media covering the gathering, “We are not involved in politics. We are here because we are very sad.”
While deaths during war are reasonably a cause for sadness, the MCA’s claim to be avoiding politics was belied by the signboards carried by its members – including one that called on the military regime to “eradicate the insurgents from the roots”.
Dein Daung’s position as MCA chairman had carried over from his similar role at the Lu Shwin Taw Association, a private comedians’ organisation founded in 2010 to provide support for elderly comedians who no longer earned steady incomes. That organisation, some of whose members participated in anti-coup protests in Mandalay in early 2021, was replaced in 2022 by the MCA, which continues helping retired comedians.
The new MCA’s first event to pay homage to elderly performers, held in Nay Pyi Taw in July 2022, was billed in state media as the “12th ceremony of paying respect to the senior comedians by the association”, suggesting continuity with the defunct organisation.
But regime-appointed Minister of Information Maung Maung Ohn said at the ceremony that unlike its predecessor, the MCA was officially “recognised” by the state. He also took credit for the idea of forming the “new” association, but added that junta leader Senior General Min Aung Hlaing had come up with the new name.
“When I suggested that a state-recognised comedians’ association be formed, the prime minister said it should be named the Myanmar Comedians’ Association,” he said, referring to one of Min Aung Hlaing’s numerous self-bestowed titles. “The prime minister believes comedians are true artists, so the association was allowed to form under his direction.”
Min Aung Hlaing also set aside five acres of land in Nay Pyi Taw for the MCA to build an office. This is all part of the coup leader’s effort to inject himself into the country’s artistic and religious spheres, and to project an image of himself as a benevolent protector and promoter of Myanmar culture.
To reciprocate, the MCA has joined other junta-recognised religious and cultural organisations in publishing announcements in regime newspapers telegraphing military propaganda, including one on December 30 last year “on strong objections and condemnations against terror acts of AA [Arakan Army] terrorists”.
These and other gestures of fealty to the regime – including regular appearances at junta ceremonies and rallies – stray well beyond the association’s mandate of helping elderly comedians, and have been decried by online commentators and the general public. Other comedians, meanwhile, have committed their talents to the anti-junta struggle, satirising the generals in online videos and in live performances in exile.
‘White’ artists
In July last year, just one month before MCA members urged the junta to “eradicate” resistance to military rule, Maung Maung Ohn warned comedians not to participate in politics.
Speaking at the association’s annual homage-paying ceremony in Nay Pyi Taw, he said, “I want you to participate in the country’s affairs, but not in politics. Politics is a complicated and impossible-to-understand phenomenon.” He added that “art is white” and should not be “painted with other colours”.
By “other colours”, Maung Maung Ohn was likely referring to Myanmar’s “red” and “green” political divide, in which red refers to the National League for Democracy and fellow anti-military forces, while green represents the military and affiliated Union Solidarity and Development Party.
But while “white” ostensibly denotes political neutrality, for the junta it inevitably means acquiescence to its whims. For the regime’s opponents, meanwhile, it has been used as a pejorative term for artists who refuse to stand up to tyranny, following the popular adage that neutrality means “siding with the oppressor”.
Aung Thaw, a prominent comedian who fled to Thailand with this family two months after the February 2021 coup, condemned the MCA for accepting the military’s patronage. He said the association and “white” artists are helping the military create a false narrative that the country is “calm and normal” even as civil war rages.
“If Myanmar people are red, comedians are red. If the people are blue, we are the same blue,” Aung Thaw told Frontier by phone, explaining that comedy should reflect the mood of the public. “We can’t be ‘white’ and calm while Myanmar people are covered in blood and facing trouble.”
However, one veteran comedian who is a member of the MCA, and who requested that his name be withheld for security reasons, told Frontier that many veteran comedians in Myanmar are “white” not because they support the junta, but because they have no regular work or income and need whatever help they can get.
The MCA aids underemployed or retired performers by occasionally donating money and food, but it also pressures them to take part in meetings and ceremonies organised by the junta, he said.
“We have to follow the MCA’s decisions and announcements without complaining. If we refuse to attend the ceremonies, it could cause problems for us,” he said.
Aung Thaw said the MCA was taking advantage of the plight of many elderly performers, creating the false impression that comedians support the junta.
“This is completely shameful. Comedians have a history of always being brave. The blood of our predecessors was always red and they were not afraid to tell the truth. But now the association is no more than the junta’s puppet,” he said.
Poking fun at authority
Myanmar’s distinctive brand of theatrical comedy has its roots in the Konbaung dynasty. Under this final line of Bamar kings, who ruled from 1752 to 1885, jesters told jokes during breaks between the main performances at royal ceremonies.
These comedians, called lat swal taw or “king’s companions”, often presented what was happening among the public – including their daily struggles and the consequences of inept rulership for poor people – but the message was mixed with humour to avoid angering the monarchy.
The Konbaung dynasty ended when Britain seized the royal capital of Mandalay in 1885, after which the former royal players kept their careers going by performing for the wider public. U Chit Phwe and his wife Ma Sein Thone began offering an innovative variety show in Mandalay around 1900 that developed into anyeint – a form of performance that combines dance, music and comedy.
During the colonial period, anyeint troupes satirised British rule and Myanmar elites. After the country gained independence in 1948, the performances mocked the country’s new ruling class.
When the military took power in 1962, strict censorship was imposed on artists. Political satire was heavily monitored and suppressed, and comedians who stepped out of bounds faced the possibility of arrest. Despite this, performers found subtle ways to use puns, metaphors and double meanings to address social and political problems.
Among Myanmar’s most prominent comedians is Zarganar, who emerged from the anyeint scene in the 1980s and quickly became famous for criticising the country’s military rulers with jokes combining traditional comic tropes with more modern trends from overseas.
One of Zarganar’s famous jokes begins with an elderly man entering a bank to deposit K10 million into an account.
“Boy, if you are fired from your job, who will pay my money back?” the man asks the bank clerk.
“The bank manager will pay it back,” the clerk replies.
“If the bank manager is fired from his job, who will pay it back?”
“Don’t worry grandpa, the bank chairman will pay it back.”
“What if the chairman loses his job?”
The clerk, losing patience, sharply replies, “What a worried grandpa! The president of our country will pay you back.”
“And what if Mr. President is gone?”
“Then it is worth investing your K10 million just for that,” the clerk replies.
His performances, along with his political activism, have resulted in Zarganar serving several stints in prison since 1988. Other comedians have similarly paid a high price for practicing their craft.
On January 4, 1996, an anyeint show was held at Daw Aung San Suu Kyi’s residence in Yangon to celebrate Myanmar’s Independence Day. The main performers were Par Par Lay and Lu Zaw, two prominent Mandalay-based comedians who called themselves the Moustache Brothers.
The show followed tradition by combining clever wordplay with music and dancing, as well as jokes mocking the defunct Burmese Socialist Programme Party and the military’s continued oppression of the people. Among the audience members seen laughing in a video of the performance was Aung San Suu Kyi, who at one point came onstage and announced that she would take full responsibility for the show and the performers.
“The duty of artists is to reflect the real life of citizens,” she said. “These artists are not guilty [of any crime] for telling the truth. If they’re considered guilty, it is on me, not them.”
Despite these bold words, Par Par Lay and Lu Zaw were arrested by military intelligence shortly after the show, and were each sentenced to seven years in prison and banned from performing.
U Marga, a 54-year-old veteran comedian from Mandalay who asked that his real name not be used for security reasons, said comedy in Myanmar was a “difficult profession”, even though its aim was to make people laugh.
“These difficulties can become a matter of life or death when comedians make political jokes,” he told Frontier by phone.
U Marga was close friends with Par Par Lay, who died in 2013 from ill health that worsened in prison. He said he was honoured to speak about the legacy of comedians like the Moustache Brothers, who refused to bow to the military.
“A comedian who dares not make jokes about politics is just a coward. If comedians don’t make jokes about politics, they end up just making dirty adult jokes,” U Marga said.
The duty of true comedians is to always stand with the people and criticise authorities, he said, adding that jokes should not only make the audience laugh but also make people think about things in new ways.
“If a comedian is just repeating the government’s narrative, it’s the most useless job in the world,” U Marga said.
Comedians in the resistance
As the 1996 NLD performance by the Moustache Brothers suggests, opposition political groups have long tapped popular comedians to gain public support. Now the military regime, through the MCA, is seemingly trying to counter this trend by creating the impression that comedians are on their side in the struggle for power in Myanmar.
But in the age of social media, the junta has been unable to suppress dissenting voices and control the popular narrative as strictly as previous military regimes.
Comedian Sein Thee used to perform with the Thee Lay Thee anyeint troupe, which became famous for its political satire around the year 2000. In more recent years he’s pursued a solo career by posting videos on Facebook and his own YouTube channel, focusing on jokes about current news and the junta’s military defeats.
In one video from last year, he made a dark joke about the military’s high casualty rate at a time when opposition People’s Defence Forces seemed to be closing in on Mandalay:
“What is the situation in Mandalay?”
“The military is giving new training to its soldiers in Mandalay as the Mandalay PDF is preparing to attack the city.”
“What kind of training?”
“How to use crutches.”
Besides making online videos, some comedians who fled Myanmar after the 2021 coup also entertain live audiences outside the country. They include the five members of the Har 5 Kaung anyeint troupe, who all went into exile and now perform together in Thailand.
Har 5 Kaung manager U Thakin Tun said the troupe first fled to territory controlled by the opposition Karen National Union with the intention of becoming anti-regime fighters. “But later we understood that we should continue performing. It’s the only thing we’re good at,” Thakin Tun told Frontier by phone.
Har 5 Kaung now puts on shows in parts of Thailand where many Myanmar migrants live and work, including industrial zones near Bangkok and coastal areas of the south. However, the troupe must maintain a low profile because the shows are not officially permitted by the Thai authorities.
Har 5 Kaung members take a percentage of the profits from their performances as their wages, and donate the rest to the resistance movement in Myanmar. Thakin Tun said they have donated more than 1 million baht (US$28,790) over two years of performing.
He said the troupe’s jokes are aimed at mocking Min Aung Hlaing and the junta’s military defeats. They’re also not shy about criticising nationalist and pro-military Buddhist monks, a topic that is traditionally taboo in Myanmar society.
Har 5 Kaung has even been known to satirise the National Unity Government – a parallel cabinet appointed by lawmakers deposed in the coup – and the flow of funding, or lack thereof, from the NUG to armed resistance groups:
“I have the exact list of the funding we’re sending,” one comedian says.
“Thank God, you are so precise. Where is it?” the second comedian says.
“Don’t worry, I have the exact list.”
“Yes, where is it?”
“I mean the list, not the cash.”
Aung Thaw says he occasionally tours Thailand with Har 5 Kaung and feels gratified by the applause they receive from migrant audiences.
But in general, he says he struggles to still find humour in life and come up with new jokes.
“Honestly, I don’t want to tell jokes anymore, because there’s no fun in our country.”
