By Alessandra De Poli
ROME – Pope Francis yesterday called for the release of Aung San Suu Kyi offering her refuge in the Vatican, a gesture that has put the spotlight back on Myanmar, where a largely forgotten war continues to range after more than three years, which the local Church is experiencing as a displaced person among the displaced.
Bishop Celso Ba Shwe of Loikaw, capital of Kayah State, recently spoke to AsiaNews about this suffering, offering his strong testimony of Christian life
Last week, the 60-year-old took part in a training course for newly appointed bishops, an event held in Rome every year under the auspices of the Dicastery for Evangelisation; now he is getting ready to return to his community, displaced in Myanmar’s forests.
Last November, he was forced to flee the Cathedral of Christ the King, whose complex was seized by the military.
Today he lives with internal refugees in Kayah State, forced to shelter in tents and makeshift bamboo structures, some of which were recently swept away by the rains brought by Typhoon Yagi, piling more misery on already troubled people.
“No one lives in Loikaw anymore,” the bishop told AsiaNews. “Most of it was torched and destroyed, especially in Christian areas. In many parts of the city, it is also impossible to return because of anti-personnel mines and unexploded ordnance. Only the members of the PDFs go back to see if they can find their families, but even for them it is dangerous.”
The PDFs or People’s Defence Forces are the armed wing of the exiled National Unity Government, with armed unites divided into territorial brigades.
Created in April 2021, after the military coup that sparked the civil war, these groups are made up of young people, including Christians. In Kayah State, Christians numbered 90,000 out of a population of 350,000.
“They are fighting for their future and their freedom. They were witness to democratic progress during the Aung San Suu Kyi years, between 2015 and 2020,” the bishop said.
“Now young people know that there is a place where they can express their freedoms, convinced that they are fighting for justice. And not only young people. None of us wants to go back to the times of the military dictatorship.”
However, for the prelate, “even young people know that war is not the way to achieve a democratic state. We need dialogue. What the Church wants and asks for is that the PDFs present themselves as a united group. One day perhaps. For now it is still very difficult.”
The idea of a federal state in Myanmar is always in the background, but complicated by the fact that in the territories liberated from the army, ethnic militias (i.e. armed groups that, unlike the PDFs, have been fighting for greater autonomy against the central government since independence from British rule in 1948) have createdadministrations that do not reflect the will of the civilian population.
“In Kayah State, at least 600 young people have died in the fighting so far,” Bishop Ba Shwe said. “Yet the families support the PDFs,” noted the prelate who hails from Moblo, a village in the Diocese of Loikaw. Before he was ordained bishop on Jun 29, he served as apostolic administrator of the diocese for three years.
“In the camps for displaced people many people lack food,” he explains, “but everyone puts something aside for the fighters. They are proud of their children and pray for their success and safety.”
Loikaw’s Christian community is scattered in 200 refugee camps in the forest, where about 150,000 people have taken refuge, according to data from last year.
“Displaced people live far from villages, in remote areas where there is no fighting,” said the prelate who was quick to correct himself, adding that, “We can’t really say that there is no fighting because some shelling or artillery attack can happen at any time.”
“The people who live here depend on international donations and the kindness of the local residents who host them. Some manage to borrow land to grow rice or vegetables. But it’s always risky; anyone can be shot by the army at any time.”
Children are experiencing the worst situations. Sometimes even middle school children join the armed struggle. “Between the pandemic and the civil war, some children have not gone to school for five years,” Bishop Celso said.
Over the past year, he was instrumental in setting up small, informal schools among displaced people in an effort to educate the generation that will have to rebuild the country.
“Since we fear the military junta might bomb places where people gather in large numbers, we have dispersed the classes in different places, in tents and huts in the forest. Children have learnt to look up to see if bombs are coming. If they see a jet, they know that they have to run somewhere else. They study amid danger; how do they, teachers, and students, concentrate?”
Rice and water (collected from miles away) are in short supply and at least 10 refugee camps have been swept away by floods caused by Typhoon Yagi, which hit Southeast Asia in recent weeks, killing at least 200 people in Myanmar.
Yet the bishop, while talking about the life of his community, always has a smile, sometimes a laugh. “My strength is people, they give me courage,” he explains. “After settling in the camps, they began to ask: ‘Where are our places of worship? We want to build a church, bishop, can you help us?’ Now in almost every camp there is a place to pray with a small cross. It is a Church among nature, very beautiful.”
Bishop Ba Shwe was forced to abandon Loikaw cathedral in November 2023, after a two-week siege. Before that it sheltered about 70 people, including men and women religious and people unable to flee, especially the elderly and disabled.
Hundreds of regular soldiers surrounded the pastoral centre. “In December we went back, but we only took the baptismal registers, which priests use today to look for people from their parish among the displaced.” All the rest has been lost. Even the graves inside the cathedral have been opened, probably because soldiers feared the PDFs had hidden weapons in them.
“I am a bishop without a cathedral, but I am happy. When I escaped from Loikaw, many people told me to go to Taunggyi or other safe places where there is no fighting. But how can I leave my people? I have to go where my flock is.
“People don’t have a church, but they have their own places to pray. With all its difficulties, it is an experience that reminds me of the life of the first Christians. Many people ask me: ‘Bishop, when are we going back to the cathedral?’ I answer that the Church is not a building. When people are together, they take care of each other; when they love each other, when they share, that’s where the Church is.”
“Parish priests and nuns are now devoting themselves more than ever to people,” said Bishop Ba Shwe about a Church reborn amid the tragedy of war. “In some refugee camps there are no catechists. But anyone who knows how to lead prayer or read the Gospel and the Scriptures has become a new evangeliser,” the prelate said.
Caritas Loikaw has also remained active, intervening in the most urgent cases, when people have run out of food or have no more money.
“We are not able to set ourselves up as an NGO, but we are always close to the people, with a mobile clinic for medical examinations and a support group for those most seriously traumatised. The nuns, above all, are close to those who suffer. So we reach people in remote areas that international agencies cannot reach.”
Ultimately, “Even if there are a lot of challenges and difficulties, God is helping us”, Bishop Ba Shwe said. “When they tell me: ‘Bishop, we don’t have rice for the children’, someone else always comes to me to offer help. What we have is not enough, but we work a little bit at a time.” – Asia News
