Linking east and west: Shway Yoe's Burman.

Keck, Stephen

Shway Yoe's (Sir George Scott) The Burman: His Life and Notions proved to be one of the most important books written by a Westerner about Burma. Scott's book has engaged readers for more than a century, as his influence was immediately evident in the generation of British writers who now saw Burma through his eyes. Virtually every book written in "British Burma" reflected a close read of Scott's pages, and it remained relevant in the 20th century: another edition of The Burman was published in wake of the 1962 coup that would ultimately bring Ne Win to power. John Musgrave's introduction pointed out that the text "still has relevance for understanding con temporary Burma" (Musgrave, xvi). More recently, following the political turbulence of the 1990s, British journalist Andrew Marshall used Scott as the basis for exploring the country. In this last case, Marshall's The Trouser People: A Story of Burma in the Shadow of the Empire (2002) traced Scott's footsteps in the Shan States. Marshall explained that The Burman "was still consulted by Burma scholars" (Marshall 53).

Sir George Scott (Shway Yoe)

The combination of his life and writings has ensured that Scott remains one of the better-known figures associated with colonial Burma. A definitive biography of Scott remains to be written. Edith Mitton, Scott's wife, published Scott of the Shan Hills (1936), which drew upon her knowledge of the subject to compile what amounts to a mere sketch of Scott (Mitton). Despite the existence of a large Scott archive at Cambridge, where his papers have been preserved, there has yet to be a successful scholarly study of Scott. Andrew Dalby surveyed Scott's career as an explorer of Burma's eastern border and a key figure in the British annexation of the Shan States (Dalby 108-157). In fact, it might not be too much to claim that Scott is one of the great undiscovered subjects of the British Empire because his achievements were significant. Scott served mostly in Burma, which could quietly be overlooked in the 19th century just as Myanmar could be in the 20th century. Scott could, after all, be easily identified with the larger than life characters who were usually, though not universally, advancing British aims across the globe. That is, were his exploits better known, Scott might be grouped with Cecil Rhodes, Richard Burton, James Hannington Speke, Alfred Russell Wallace, Evelyn Baring (Lord Cromer), T.E. Lawrence and other cinematic figures.

Working as a journalist, Scott came first to the Malay Peninsula where he was able to cover the reprisals for the murder of British Resident J.WW. Birch in Perak in 1875 for the London paper, Evening Standard. After that, he went to both Rangoon and Mandalay, where he wrote for two London papers: the Daily News and St. James Gazette. Scott would stay in Burma for about seven years. He not only wrote, but taught at a school. These experiences gave him the time and motivation to become fluent in Burmese. It was also during this stretch that Scott wrote TheBurman, a book which could neatly and insightfully make great use of the division between Upper and Lower Burma. Scott would serve colonial administration in a number of capacities, including compiling the 1900-1901 Gazetteer of Upper Burma and the Shan States (five volumes that remain of use to scholars today) and participating in the Burma Commission which established the country's borders with Siam and China (Thant Myint U 285). Beyond this extraordinary story, Scott is also remembered as the man who brought soccer to Burma.

While Scott may have been the Briton who produced the most widely read book devoted to understanding Burma, he was actually part of a group of British writers who attempted to make sense of their experiences in Southeast Asia by putting pen to paper and publishing. Within the world of colonial Burma, Scott was part of a genealogy of discourse which shaped British (and Western) perceptions of the country and the region. In Burma the publications of Scott, V.C. Scott O'Connor, R. Talbot Kelly, and Harold Fielding-Hall collectively produced a body of literature in the aftermath of the Third Anglo-Burman War which evinces not only a significant understanding of "imperialist mindsets," but also attempts to go beyond the worst forms of colonial knowledge-making. That is, these figures for the most part understood that British colonialism might produce a deeply flawed comprehension of its subject peoples. It should be pointed out, as well, that while these writers were not professional academics and did not articulate their biases in a self-conscious way, they were men and women who often had access to the most information and the most superior materials. That is, they had all of the advantages which the colonial situation implied: they could travel, meet experts, interview key persons and be told which books to read about the country and region. Not surprisingly, without denigrating the overall imperial project, the better of these writers sought to understand and explain Burma differently than it was being represented in the press, superficial travelogues, missionary writings and military memoirs. Additionally, they were at once sensitive to some of the ways in which colonial dynamics produced knowledge that could be problematic. Therefore, in recovering this strand of British or colonial discourse, scholars have the opportunity to explore a series of early attempts at cultural hybridity. The argument here will be that Scott as Shway Yoe represented a particular type of deliberate hybridity; it was based on the recognition that the production of colonial knowledge was deeply flawed, and its creation aimed at finding ways to understand a foreign culture within its own idiom; and, finally, its articulation was devised to translate this comprehension into terms recognizable to a wider metropolitan audience.

Shway Yoe as Author

In the early 1880s, metropolitan readers might not have understood or even found appealing a book titled The Burman: His Life and Notions by the unheard of author named Shway Yoe. The title page identifies him as a "Subject of the Great Queen" which situates the author as a Burman under British rule. In fact, a number of Britons were completely taken in by Scott's gambit, as some exclaimed that the book was written by some Burmese who had a very impressive grasp of English (Marshall 53). More importantly, in adopting the pseudonym "Shway Yoe," which in Burmese meant "Golden Truth," Scott was attempting to engage Western (principally British) readers as a Burman might. Unlike so many other British accounts of Burma--many of which can be easily mined for orientalist stereotypes--Scott's would attempt to present the subject from a Burman point of view, making non-Burmans into those who would be alien, foreign and, ultimately, "other."

The very structure of The Burman reveals a striking degree of sensitivity to the nearly habitual misunderstandings of the country. Victorian intellectual achievements have frequently and seemingly easily been traduced--the 19th century now looks naive for its empiricism, scientific naturalism, liberalism, and emerging secularism. The age is also remembered for its racism and many forms of chauvinism. But it should be pointed out that British thinking in the 19th century was hardly monolithic. For instance, key British intellectuals struggled with the conditions under which knowledge was produced. In fact, these anxieties were central to iconic figures such as Thomas Carlyle and John Ruskin. No less famously, Charles Dickens attacked crude empiricism in Hard Times. With respect to "colonial knowledge" the examples of W.S. Blunt and Lucy DuffGordon serve to remind us that associating intellectual orthodoxies with the Victorians is hazardous at best. For our purposes, when Scott devised The Burman he was at once working within some of the firmest intellectual traditions of his age and simultaneously at variance from a sizeable portion of colonial knowledge. As we will see, Scott's literary device would not be completely sustainable, but it did contradict virtually every other attempt to make sense of the country.

Narrative Structure of The Burman

The narrative structure of the The Burman was at variance with much colonial writing because it was not in any way organized around the theme of travel; instead, Shway Yoe explained the Burman outlook by concentrating first on the beginnings of life and then the end of life. Along the way Scott explained Burma's religious outlook, drama, music, marriage, domestic life, games, patterns of social organization, history, treatment of minorities, and the arrival of British rule. It should be pointed out that what might appear to be a book organized along ordinary themes actually represented a significant departure for most of the British writing about Burma. The vast bulk of British books devoted to the subject were written as memoirs and travelogues. As such, the books normally began and ended with the experience--often replete with orientalist stereotypes--of the author, leaving the treatment of Burma and its peoples as secondary. To begin with the birth and end with the death of a Burman was a significant move away from the norms of most British writing about the country. Scott did this without either sentimentalizing his subject or engaging in a steady encomium about the progressive nature of British rule.

The Burman: An Exercise in Hybridity

Scott engaged nearly the full gamut of Burman life, and he did this by contrasting it to British understandings (frequently misunderstandings) of the subject. While he was interested in showing how many things in Burma had British or Western counterpoints, his larger concern was to portray the way in which the two cultures frequently misread each other. Scott was especially clear about the difficulty which his countrymen had in simply learning the language. Scott recognized, as well, that there was an intellectual laziness which accompanied power: the colonizers could rely on their privileges to flourish in Burma. More interesting, Scott also was sensitive to ways in which the very effort made by Burmans to accommodate the British tended to produce misunderstandings. For example, in discussing drama Scott observed the way in which Burmese behavior changed if the audience had British or Europeans in it:

There is no nation on the face of the earth so fond of theatrical representations as the Burmese.... A large shed has indeed been erected in Rangoon, nightly performances take place, regular troupes are engaged for a definite period, and money is charged for admission; but the idea is an English one, and opposed as it is to ancient custom and the old free attractions elsewhere, meets with barely enough support to keep it going.... It is an undoubted fact, if scarcely complimentary, that the clown has much more to do in the play and is very much broader in his jokes when Englishmen are present than when there is a purely national audience. The prolongation of the comic parts is due to a courteous desire to please the visitors, buffooneries being much more readily understood than high dramatic art, while the coarseness is unfortunately due to the same impression which makes a Burman always produce brandy and beer for the refreshment of the white man, the idea namely that that is what he likes best. None of the higher class troupes, more especially those in Upper Burma, will, however, condescend to this sort of thing. (Scott 286-289)

Ironically, the Burman effort to provide hospitality actually produced a different kind of result--one in which orientalist and racist stereotypes could take hold.

Exploring the themes of modernity, Buddhism, minorities, and "the Burman Question" reveals that Scott addressed these issues through a particular hybrid combination of Burmese and British eyes. That is, the presentation of these issues tended to compare and contrast British and Burman understandings of these subjects. Scott was a sophisticated author: he did not construct this work in a textbook fashion, but it is clear that the need to describe and explain meant that he developed a bi-focal or hybrid vision as Shway Yoe the author.

Burmese Life: 'Changing with Modernity'

The encroachment of modernity is one of the underlying themes of The Burman because Scott ran into evidence everywhere he looked. Writing before the annexation of Burma, Scott found it in the transformation of marriage customs, the running of feasts, Burmese consumption patterns, commercial networks, medical practices, Chinese and Indian immigration, and ultimately in British rule itself. References to "Upper Burma," "Lower Burma" "Rangoon" and often "Mandalay" all could be signifiers for modernity on the one hand and "old Burma" on the other--as epitomized by traditions, religious practices, and rural life.

Despite the fact that Scott understood modernity in progressive terms, he was not entirely comfortable with its presence in Burma. On the positive side, modernization (which Scott often associated with British rule) meant better health care, freedom from crime, the abolition of slavery, and general increase in material living standards. Yet, these gains came with a cost: Scott cited a number of examples where "old Burma" was under threat from modernizing momentums. Again, it is notable that Scott did not formulate his discussion around a travelogue because he sought to examine these transformations from a Burmese point of view. In contrast, V.C. Scott O'Connor and Talbot Kelly wrote about Burma and used their travels as the basis of much of their narration. Their travels were also exercises in charting the progress of modernization.

For Scott, modernity was at once large (Burma was now firmly connected to global commerce through the Indian Ocean) and yet also evident in the smaller workings of everyday life. Scott made the point of explaining the Burman cosmology and calendar. More important, however, was the manner in which the Burmans experienced time. Scott contrasted the ways in which (especially in rural areas) some Burmans measured time with the way it was done in the modern, industrial world:

Many can tell their own time simply by looking at their own shadow. Burmans, not being affected by this 'age of machinery,' as Carlyle calls it, are quite satisfied with equally simple methods of indicating the duration of time. Athet ta-daung, "a breath's space," serves to denote a moment; "the chewing of a fid of betel nuts, the boiling of three pots of rice," do not imply too great an effort of mental arithmetic. The simple rural Burmans understand as little of the English system of horology as they do of the nayas, and bizanas, and pads of the royal astronomers--measures of time which nevertheless appear in all their horoscopes. (Scott 555)

We have then a fairly nuanced view of what comprises modernity. Yet, modernity was not a major factor in religious belief. Scott believed that Buddhism was so deeply a part of Burmese life that it would withstand massive amounts of social and political change.

Buddhism: A Living Religion

Possibly the most famous sentence of The Burman articulated a non-British point of view: Scott explained: "the best thing that a Burman can wish for a good Englishman is that in some future existence, as a reward of good works, he may be born a Buddhist and if possible a Burman" (Scott 96). Scott's discussion of Buddhism appeared at once intimate and multifaceted. He explained the Buddhist cosmology in detail, but also explored the way that the religion is lived. Readers of The Burman learned about the national religious festivals, the routines of the monasteries, the widespread motivation to achieve merit, and the realities of pagodas and their slaves. More interestingly, perhaps, Scott presented Buddhism not as an "other," but in tension between two conflicting schools of interpretation. Buddhist behavior, more than belief, was what lay at the heart of the tension between the Sulagandis and the Mahagandis. Scott believed that "Sybaritism" itself reflected the impact of a number of commercial and modernizing forces and that it was central to the antagonism which defined the relationship between these two groups (Scott 33). There are no "heretical doctrines in dispute; it is simply a question of greater adherence to the strict rule of the Order" (Scott 149). He identified Lower Burma--because of its great commercial activity--as the place where this dispute developed. Accordingly, Scott explained that "many laxities" have crept into the behavior of the monks (Scott 149). The Sulagandi were quick to denounce what they understood to be loose monastic discipline. Scott drew upon the religious strife which engulfed Britain in the wake of the Reformation when he labeled the Sulagandi as the "Puritan" party (Scott 149). Scott recounts some of the disputes:

The Puritan party ... denounce the habit, which is becoming very frequent, of wearing silk robes. The Kammawa sets forth that the thengan should be stitched together of rags picked up in the streets or in the graveyards, and such panthagu thengans the Sulagandis wear and glory in. The Mahagandis, on the other hand, have been gradually becoming more and more luxurious. At first new cloth was torn into regular pieces, and then sewn together. Latterly it has been considered sufficient to tear a corner and stitch it up again, or perhaps only to rip a portion of a seam, and from this to the wearing of silk garments was no great step. The Puritan party declare that this is simply scandalous playing with the letter of the law. Again, the Sulagandis eat out of the alms-bowl as it comes in from the morning round, whereas the Mahagandis empty out the thabeit into plates and make as palatable a meal as possible from their collections, which, on the face of it, is pandering to fleshly weakness. (Scott 149-150)

Scott cites still another example of the "Sybaritism" which defined the difference between the two groups. He patiently explained to his readers:

Others, much more bold in their backsliding, do not hesitate to have a special meal cooked for them every morning by the Kyaung-tha-gyi, and sit down to it smoking hot, after their morning's perambulation, while the begging-bowl is handed over to poor people staying in the monastery, or emptied out for the benefit of the dogs and crows. No sophistry, one would think, could explain away this Sybaritism, but the Mahagandis have the assurance to try to make a merit of it, saying that the money expended by the Kappiya-dayaka on the materials for the breakfast is the proceeds of the sale of previous offerings of the pious--rugs, blankets, lamps, and so on--and by thus making use of it, not only do the people gain merit for their gifts of food, but the monks themselves are enabled to extend their charity to the poor or the birds of the air. That is a severe straining of the command that the Ariya should live by alms. (Scott 150)

The tension between these two schools of Buddhist behavior illustrated its power, but also the encroachment of modern life. Buddhism flourished in Burma, but not without its challenges. How ever, Scott also showed that even if Buddhism was well established, it also had to resist the even older nat worship which predated it. Scott explained that for many Burmans, nat worship was at least as much a part of their everyday lives as was Buddhism:

It is undeniable that the propitiating of the nats is a question of daily concern to the lower class Burman, while worship at the pagoda is only thought of once a week. For the nat may prove destructive and hostile at any time, whereas the acquisition of kutho at pagoda is a thing which may be set about in a business-like way, and at proper and convenient seasons. It is just the difference between avoiding a motor car and avoiding the circular saw in a timber mill.... The worship of nats, of the spirits, then, has nothing to do with Buddhism, and is denounced by all the more earnest of the pyin-sin as being heretical and antagonistic to the teachings of Lord Buddha. King Mindon, who was a true defender of the faith, and possessed of a deeper knowledge of the Pali texts than many members of the Assembly of the Perfect, fulminated an edict against the reverence paid to the nats, and ordered its discontinuance under severe penalties, but the worship was never really stopped, and can no more be stopped than refusing to dine thirteen at table, to walk under ladders, to cross knives, or to refrain from throwing spilt salt on other people's carpets. (Scott 231-232)

Nat worship might be formally incompatible with Buddhism, but understanding it went a great way to explain the daily rhythms of the country. More importantly, perhaps, Scott repositioned the discussion of nat worship away from primitive religion (which carried orientalist stereotypes) into a form of life which might be easily identified with superstitions which affect English modes of behavior. In other words, nat worship was no different from the superstitions which many British people accept and act on. Despite the realities of nat worship, Scott was clear that Buddhism would long be dominant in Burma, as his remarks about the likely inability of Christian missionaries to gain conversions from the population indicate.

The "Sad Bully": Minorities in Burma and the Burman Question

If Scott underestimated the importance and diversity of minorities in Burma, he certainly understood their problematic status. Burman national identity depended partly on negating the significance of others. Scott had argued that this was ordained through Burman interpretations of Buddhist cosmology, sustained by palace rituals (as the British had long known) and maintained by the treatment of indigenous ethnic minorities:

It must be acknowledged that the Burman is a sad bully; but the white strangers could reduce him to civility, if nothing else, very speedily. It is different with other races--some perhaps aboriginal, some invaders of Burma as much as the Burmese themselves. (Scott 441-442)

The treatment of the Kachins, Karens, and Chins could be viewed as indicative of the worst feature of the Burman character. Scott claimed that the Burmans habitually oppressed the Kachins, and Burmese "tyranny made most of them dangerous savages" (Scott 443). With the Karen, Scott relied on their early religious mythology:

When Yuwa created the world he took three handfuls of earth and threw them round about him. From one sprang the Burmans, from another the Karens, and from the third the Kalas, the foreigners. The Karens were very talkative and made more noise than all the others, and so the Creator believed that there were too many of them, and he threw another half handful to the Burmans, who thus gained such a supremacy that they soon overcame the Karens, and have oppressed them ever since. (Scott 443)

The Chins had a similar story in their national religion; Scott drew on these mythologies to illustrate the oppressive side of Burmese domination.

If the Burman could be a "sad bully," Scott was not oblivious to the impact of immigration on both Lower and Upper Burman. In the later editions of The Burman, he addressed "the Burman Question": this issue focused on the future of the Burmans, given their relative failure to compete effectively on economic terms with Indian and Chinese immigrants. The archaeologist and civil servant, Taw Sein Ko, would address the problem, projecting that many of these immigrants would be Burmanized, but other critics were not so confident. Scott redefined the issue by trying to exhibit what it looked like from a Burman point of view.

Scott acknowledged that "malicious people have decided that the only things a Burman does well are steering a boat and driving a bullock cart" (Scott 244). In discussing the rice crop Scott answered that the Burman soil was so rich that farming was easy--making it possible for farmers to be lazy. More importantly, he painted a vivid picture of the Burmans who served as migrant workers--coming from Upper Burma to Lower Burma as they followed the seasonal harvest (Scott 245). Scott noted that it "has come to be considered an axiom that the Burmese are irredeemably lazy" (Scott 383). He understood that what would become "the Burman Question" predated the influx of sizeable numbers of Chinese and South Asian immigrants. Scott connected the prejudices which were extant against Burmans to earlier colonial authors (Bigandet and Sangermano) to show that these prejudices were at least partly based on cultural misunderstandings. For example, Scott also explained that Burman behavior might be answered with respect to the cultural habit of designating particular days as luck and unlucky:

With all this the Burman is in a very considerable difficulty between lucky and unlucky days. If he declines a piece of work because it is his unlucky season, or undertakes it, but delays commencing till his fortunate time shall come round, the foreigner accuses him of laziness in the one case and dawdling in the other. Yet many Englishmen would not sit down as one of thirteen to dinner. (Scott 388)

Scott recognized that the misunderstanding was not itself understood, but what foreigners remembered were frustrations that they might have encountered with porters or other workers. These arguments were extended to the discussion of measurements; he addressed the economic realities which had made the Burman Question increasingly relevant around the turn of the century. He compared the Burmans to the Chettiyars:

If the Burmans had the money-grubbing instincts of the natives of India it would have been done long ago, but as long as everybody gets enough to eat and there is an overplus, after offerings to the monks and the pagoda, wherewith to get money for new clothes, the Burman farmer cares very little what entangled sums in arithmetic have to be worked out by the unlucky purchaser. (Scott 556)

The nasty tone is similar to that which V.C. Scott O'Connor would employ in The Silken East when he castigated Indian commercial activity. There was certainly a romantic note when Scott extended this further by observing that the Burmans did not have any tradition of banking:

In native times there were exceedingly few who would have anything to lodge with such a personage. Those who have superabundant coin almost always disperse it in giving a kyi-gyin pwe, or in building a pagoda, a monastery, digging a tank, or some such work of merit. Whatever money there may remain over is turned into use or display in the shape of fat oxen, and silver and gold cups of jewellery. These are pleasant things to look at and easily convertible into money when necessary. Burmans detest hoarding. A miser is threatened with as terrible a hereafter as a parricide. The portion of both is awidzi, the lowest hell. (Scott 558)

Just as O'Connor and Fielding-Hall would later, Scott turned the Burman Question on its head, acknowledging that while the Burmans had not been as successful in the acquisition of wealth, it actually reflected their superior values. In a passage which probably comes from the later editions, Scott made this clear:

It is at least open to the argument that the Burman is philosophically right. He cares little for the troubles of the world and the manifold questions of the day which distract more cultural nations. His eyes are fixed uninterruptedly on the dark mysteries which surround our beginning, our end, and every moment of our life. The earth is only a camping-ground, in which it does not repay the trouble to establish one's self firmly and comfortably. The rich man carries his gold and silver, the poor his last handful of rice, to the pagoda, and deposits it there at usurer's interest for his future home beyond. Let the black coolie of India talk all day and dream all night of his filthy pice; let the greasy Chetty money-lender gloat over his bloated money-bags; let the English merchant delight in all the refined luxuries wealth can bring him: the Burman is content if he has enough to eat and remain a free man, happy if he accumulates sufficient to build a work of merit, or give a free festival to his less fortunate brethren. Who shall say he is not wise? (Scott 558-559)

Scott's argument, which would anticipate those of O'Connor, Fielding-Hall and Kelly, could be gleaned to be a romantic one: the earlier, less developed and more pious civilization appears more attractive compared to at least some features of modernity.

Shway Yoe as Victorian

Shway Yoe explained Buddhism, everyday life, the monarchy, social change, and many other aspects of Burmese culture to a British audience. He spoke as a Burman and, yet, he was very clearly a Victorian in his interests and outlook. Obviously, Scott was an advocate of empire and the text is replete with references to the various museums which helped to enshrine stereotypes about colonial subjects or non-Western peoples. It is in a less straightforward way that The Burman, with its vast amounts of description, fascination with social change, and implicit and explicit challenge to conventional treatments of the subject, reads as a quintessentially Victorian text.

In seeking to make Burman life understandable to Britons, Scott had produced a work which was uniquely hybrid--adopting another voice (in this case a Burmese voice) both to explain a foreign culture and to establish a very different point of view--one which might look back on British culture as "other" in order ultimately to show that they had more in common than might be realized. It was in his explanation of Buddhism--particularly as it was practiced in Burma--that Shway Yoe betrayed his Victorian roots. He was impressed by the depth of conviction which accompanied the basic Buddhist activities. Scott explained:

All assemble according to their rank in the morning, and together intone the vesper lauds. When the last sounds of the mournful chant have died away in the dimly-lighted chamber, one of the novices, or a clever scholar, stands up and with a loud voice proclaims the hour, the day of the week, the day of the month, and the number of the year. Then all shikho before the Buddha thrice, and thrice before the abbot, and retire to rest. None who have experienced the impressiveness of the ceremonial, called the Thaithana-hlyauk, will readily forget the powerful effect it has on the feelings. It is the fit ending of a day full of great possibilities for all. If the same routine gone through day after day becomes monotonous and loses some of its power for good, yet the effect of such a school, presided over by an abbot of intelligence and earnestness, must infallibly work for the good of all connected with it, and especially so in the case of an impulsive, impressionable people like the Burmese. (Scott 37-38)

While the description is relatively straightforward, it should be remembered that the changing status of religion (normally Christianity) and its ability to impact believers was a major concern for 19th century British thinkers. In addition, scholars such as Lionel Trilling and Walter Houghton observed nearly two generations ago that the Victorians were nearly obsessed with sincerity (as well as authenticity) and earnestness (Houghton and Trilling). To some extent, these were virtues which were becoming more valuable precisely because commercial activity and industrial conditions seemed to be producing mass behavior which made their existence in behavior increasingly unlikely. Not coincidentally, Scott emphasizes these features in the context of the monastery routines. Tellingly, Scott added that Western missionaries were likely to be frustrated because their teachings would have "little power to shake the power of Buddhism over the people" (Scott 38). However, with its "intelligence" and "earnestness" Buddhism was not really an "exotic other" but instead the "moral truths of both Christianity and Buddhism, are practically the same" (Scott 38).

Another way in which Scott domesticated Buddhism was by portraying it with a vocabulary which would be very appealing to his contemporaries. He sought to engage the orientalist stereotype which located the religion as the product of a lower and inferior civilization:

There are few things which more irritate an educated Burman than to assert, or as most English do, calmly assume, that the Burmese are idolaters. The national idea is that idol worship is especially the characteristic of the lowest savage tribes, and even fetishism is considered a superior faith. Therefore the accusation of bowing down to sticks and stones is intolerable, and the implication is combated with feverish energy. Where there are no prayers, in the technical sense, there can be no idolatry. No one, not even Shin Gautama himself, can help a man in his strivings to lead a holy life. None but the individual in his own person can work out his special salvation, and he tries to do so by setting a splendid ideal before his mind. (Scott 184)

These descriptions would almost certainly have appealed to the author's late Victorian audience because they moved Buddhist religious practices away from those associated with primitive religion toward individualism. It is worth recalling that individualism--which could be made manifest in many ways--was an issue for the Victorians, with philosophers such as John Stuart Mill forcefully advocating it, while some critics feared its impact upon British culture. At the same time, Scott's tone here is that of a preacher--whose sermon's insistence on the individual responsibility for his or her own salvation would have found echoes with a number of different strata of Victorian Christianity.

Buddhist individualism, as such, extended to worship practices. Scott pointed out to his readers that bells at temples are not used to call worshippers to prayer because

there is no formal service. Every man is responsible to himself for his religious state; no one else has anything directly to do with him, or can give him help. The monks themselves display but little concern in the spiritual state of the laity. If a man is to attain a favourable change in a succeeding existence, it must be by his own exertions. He knows the regular duty-days, and on these and on the special feast-days he goes to gain kutho for himself and better his chance towards a new transincorporation. If he is a fond man, he parcels out the merit acquired by his devotions among the members of his family or friends who have not been to the pagoda. The use of the bells is to direct attention to the fact of the lauds of the Buddha having been recited. (Scott 204)

Scott also observed that Buddhism is "thoroughly democratic" because a man "is only what he is through his actions in past existences" (Scott 407). The political language was extended to the claim that Buddhism had a "republican tendency" because it promoted social egalitarianism. He made this explicit by noting that rank "does not confer such a wonderful hold on the people" (Scott 407). Again, Scott found Buddhism attractive because it helped inhibit social divisions. He observed that this "feeling extends beyond the ordinary order into ordinary life. The religion brings all men down to the same level." He pushed this further into an argument about virtue which might have been easily recognizable to Victorians who had subscribed to the secular doctrines of self-help and improvement. Social differences were "established by superiority in virtue" (Scott 407). The Burman is written (and rewritten) during the decades in which the demand of equality for women became a strong political force. Scott argued that it was this commitment towards equality which affected women in Burma:

The state of women among Buddhists is so very much higher than it is among Oriental peoples, who do not hold by that faith. The Burmese woman enjoys many rights which her European sister is even now clamouring for. (Scott 407)

Ironically, then, Buddhism was now domesticated: it could be identified with many things--individualism, democracy, republicanism, social equality--dear to many men and women in late 19th century Britain. Buddhism (and Burma) could now appear not as an "other" but as an attractive form of life fully compatible with best of British values. Most important, perhaps, the very strategy of making a foreign culture agreeable to a metropolitan audience was itself a fundamental Victorian impulse. The idea of taking new or less attractive ideas and commodities and domesticating them--that is, making them safe for private consumption--was one of the deepest and most formative cultural experiences in 19th century Britain.

What, then, did Scott's "Victorianism" matter to people in Burma and Southeast Asia? Scott wrote a handbook for Burma, but it would not be hard to show that The Burman proved to be essential reading for British administrators. This is evident because the The Burman became something of a touchstone for writers such as V.C. Scott O' Connor and Harold Fielding-Hall. More important, it almost certainly informed British policy making; with its picture of contented Burmans under British rule (yet another instance of Victorianism), it may have inhibited the British from understanding the emerging nationalism which became evident during the first decade of the 20th century. In addition, Scott did show the Burmans to be both sad bullies and threatened by immigration, but he almost certainly underestimated the consequences of both realities. The Burman presents the country's many ethnic minorities as on the fringe of Burmese life, but in so doing it foreshadows the inadequate way in which the country has been understood. That is, for the independent, newly formed nation, situating non-Burmans has been a significant problem. By developing a sensitive depiction of Buddhism as absolutely central to Burmese life, Scott unintentionally neglected many other forms of social identity. To state one of the most obvious, there is almost nothing in the text about Islam in Burma; yet, with its 1824 citizenship law and the civil strife in Arakan and the sustained persecution of Muslims in Burma, the omission from Scott's text appears to be a bit more significant. In producing one of the most widely read and deeply sensitive accounts of a people exposed and exploited by British colonialism, Scott may well have adjusted his subject tightly to fit his agenda. (1) More broadly, the book also points to a larger ambiguity for the region: namely, situating Myanmar into Southeast Asia. Despite his other experiences in the region, The Burman reveals a very particular place--clearly not a part of India, but not really belonging to anything other than "the Orient." In a peculiar way, then, despite the fact that The Burman is written as a book which aimed to produce cultural engagement and overcome the colonizer's misunderstandings, it actually foreshadows the isolation which would bedevil modern Myanmar--especially after 1962.

Conclusion

The deliberate hybridity which defined The Burman is nothing less than an attempt to bring two very different cultures (and religions) together into one large text. Scott's achievement was at least to make Burma, Buddhism, and possibly some aspects of the political economy of the region comprehensible to metropolitan readers. Scott was able to move beyond simple travelogues, war memoirs, and missionary literature to create a work which not only presented Burma for Britons, but literally forced careful readers to evaluate their own biases. It should not be forgotten, as well, that Scott's effort took place amidst the "high noon" of Western imperialism. Not only were travelogues written with "orientalist" mindsets, but they were part of a colonial project which legitimated itself by invoking its "civilizing mission." Scott, always a believer in the British Empire, aimed at something very different: a book which would enable Western readers to understand Burma (and other aspects of Southeast Asia) and its peoples on their own terms. Sensitive students of the book might come to apprehend something more: that many of their own prejudices were being challenged by the presentations, descriptions, and arguments of Scott's book. To be sure, Scott had some romantic impulses, but he was unsparing of things which might be criticized in Burma. For instance, his treatment of the monarchy did not evince the nostalgic notes that defined Harold Fielding-Hall's presentation of the last years of the Konbaung era. Scott began with the premise that a Burman could and should be critical of many things in Burma. Yet, the more dominant impulse was to connect East to West to overcome the flawed perceptions which the colonizing power possessed of its Burmese subjects. After all, to see and think with the Burman was to recognize not only the limitations of British knowledge, but to see and understand at once the sagacity and frailties of Burmese life.

References

Dalby, Andrew. 1995. "J.G. Scott (1851-1935) Explorer of Burma's Eastern Borders" in Explorers of Southeast Asia, edited by Victor King, 108-157. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Fielding-Hall, Harold. 1995. The Soul of a People. Bangkok: White Orchid Press.

Houghton, Walter. 1957. The Victorian Frame of Mind. New Haven: Yale University Press.

Keck, Stephen L. "The Making of an Invisible Minority: Muslims in Colonial Burma." In Peter Hammer, editor. 2009. Living on the Margins: Minorities and Borderlines in Cambodia and Southeast Asia. Phnom Penh: Center for Khmer Studies.

Kelly, R. Talbot. 1905. Burma Painted & Described. London: Adam and Charles Black.

Marshall, Andrew. 2002. The Trouser People. Washington, D.C.: Counterpoint.

Mitton, G.E. 1936. Scott of the Shan Hills: Orders and Impressions. London: John Murray.

Musgrave, John. 1963. "Introduction" in The Burman: His Life and Notions, by Shway Yoe (Scott, Sir George), pp. ix-xviii. New York: Norton & Company.

O'Connor, V.C.Scott. 1904. The Silken East

Shway Yoe (Scott, Sir George). 1962. The Burman: His Life and Notions. New York: Norton & Company.

Trilling, Lionel. 1972. Sincerity and Authenticity.

Thant Myint U. 2006. The River of Lost Footsteps: A Personal History of Burma. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux.

Stephen Keck, American University of Sharjah

(1) For a discussion of the relative neglect of Islam in Burma see: Stephen L. Keck. "The Making of an Invisible Minority: Muslims in Colonial Burma." In Peter Hammer, editor. 2009. Living on the Margins: Minorities and Borderlines in Cambodia and Southeast Asia. Phnom Penh: Center for Khmer Studies. 221-234.