Violence in Place of Justice: Paing So’s Story

Karen State, Burma

23 May 2024

Paing So is 23 years old; he is half Mon and half Burman. We met him at the same medical training we met Ye Myat Htut from the “Imprisoned for Helping the Injured” report. His parents are divorced so he lived with his aunt in Mawlamyine in Mon State. Paing was living a quiet life as a residential construction worker: then the military took over with a coup.

Paing has been against the Burma Army ever since the coup in February 2021. He had many friends that were against the junta but, even more importantly, his personal mentor, a man who had known him since he was a boy, encouraged Paing to take a stand. He moved out of his aunt’s house to protect her from any repercussions that might come at him, and joined the protests in Yangon, marching and chanting along with many other Burmans, demanding the freedom the military took from them.

Paing remembers that it only took about a month for the Burma Army to lose their restraint and open fire on the peaceful protests. They started with non-lethal weapons, rubber bullets and smoke grenades, but soon progressed to firing real bullets; Paing saw many people hit and killed.

Paing did not hide from the danger. His mentor gave him a steel shield and Paing put it to good use. He would stand in the front rank of protest marches, protecting others with his shield and body. The protesters also lost patience and soon began fighting back with fireworks and slingshots, anything that they could get their hands on in their civilian context. Ultimately it wouldn’t help; the Burma Army would just wait for the limited supply of homemade projectiles to run out and then advance and scatter the protesters with brutal force.

On 23 March 2024, Paing So and a small group of protesters decided to play it safe and protest from their neighborhood in Yangon. It would be Armed Forces Day later that week so the military was especially sensitive to any perceived insult or dishonor. All was going well when they were contacted by protestors in a neighborhood nearby. They said the military was surrounding them. Paing’s group created a commotion to try and draw the Burma Army away from their friends. The distraction worked and soon Burma Army and police were chasing Paing’s group back into their homes with gunfire. As Paing ran for cover, a man behind him was shot and collapsed. Paing desperately wanted to stop and help but the incoming fire was too heavy. They had successfully helped their neighbors and most of them had gotten away, but the cost was high. Two of Paing’s group had been shot and dragged away by the junta forces.

This suddenly felt more personal and Paing and his group were angry. The Burma Army had invaded their neighborhoods and shot and detained their friends. The group, foolhardy in their anger, decided to take their protest up a notch, blocking a major road with sandbags and broken glass — a challenge to the military’s authority and control of the city. The response was swift.

Military and police demolished the roadblock and chased after Paing and his group, ready to arrest them all. Paing, looking for somewhere to hide, ran into a nearby compound where he found a woman and her baby. The soldiers broke down the gate and rushed in after him, beating Paing and taking him into custody. He should have been all they came for but Paing watched them loot the house of valuables and food as well.

The soldiers handed him over to the police, who also beat him. In all, Paing and five of his friends were arrested. The police shoved them into their vehicles and took them away. As they were driving, the policemen threatened Paing and his friends, saying they were taking them somewhere to be shot. They arrived at the police station and beat them all a third time before locking them in a holding cell. Paing remembers thinking that he was going to die there.

Paing was soon transferred to an interrogation center. He was jammed into a crowded room with 200 other prisoners. Paing couldn’t even lie down, the room was so full. The guards would beat them regularly, demanding the names of protests leaders. The interrogators always came at night, drunk, to take them for beatings. They purposely kept everyone awake for the entire time they were at the interrogation center. For food, they were given old rice and a single egg per four prisoners. Paing didn’t really eat much, since his face was so swollen from the beatings. For three days, all 200 prisoners sat there, crowded together, bruised and in pain, sleep-deprived, hungry, and waiting for nightfall for the next round of beatings.

Paing was sentenced to three years in prison and was transferred to a still-crowded but bigger cell with only 60-70 other prisoners. The prison was separated into different wings for different types of prisoners. For the first year he was fortunate to be in a wing with slightly gentler treatment. They had to sleep in rows on the floor, were beaten occasionally by the guards for no reason, and had no privacy, but they didn’t have to do hard labor. This was where he met Ye Myat Htut.

During a Covid outbreak, the guards quarantined them in the cells for 21 days straight. No medical attention or care was provided and many of the prisoners died from Covid during the quarantine. Even after the quarantine, the guards still restricted spending time outdoors.

Paing’s second year in prison was much more difficult. Missing his family, he had scrounged some paper and pen to write a letter home. The guards caught him with it, beat him, and dragged him and three others off to solitary confinement. The guards tied their wrists and ankles and left them there for 14 days. Afterwards, he was transferred to a wing of the prison for common criminals, where they were forced to do hard labor. The guards in that wing were corrupt, so, in reality, the wing was run by gangs. They would extort whatever money the prisoners had, offering small luxuries like pillows in return. If you had money, your life was a little more bearable; if not, you were at the mercy of the gangsters.

After two years and one month, Paing was released from prison early. A lawyer helped him petition for a reduction of his original sentence. He returned to Mawlamyine to live with his aunt and got a delivery job to help pay the bills. Paing was tired of resisting; he had seen friends shot, prison had been a nightmare, and he learned that after his arrest his personal mentor had joined resistance forces in Karen State and had died in battle. Paing needed rest; he got five months of peace.

In March of 2024, the leader of his ward in Mon State came and asked Paing if he would be willing to join the Burma Army. The junta had activated conscription laws, forcing young men and women all across the country to join the same army that oppressed them. Paing refused. The district leader told him, “Then I don’t want to see you here by May.” Paing had two months to disappear or the district leader would be forced to take him.

Paing reached out to Ye Myat Htut and other friends he’d met in prison. They agreed to flee together; they had survived prison by helping one another; why not this too? Not long after leaving home again, Paing was at our training. Once again he has chosen to face danger head on for freedom and to help his people.

When we asked how we could be praying for him, he said that he wants peace and to reunite with his whole family. We hope that one day his prayers will be answered and that all of Burma will have the chance to enjoy peace and the closeness of their loved ones. We thank God for Paing So, and many others, who are risking and suffering much to make that a reality.

Thank you and God bless you,

Free Burma Rangers