Interview with Nan Nyunt Swe, Zarganar's Father

“I feel sorry for my son, it makes me sad and I worry about him. But I am proud of him, proud of what he has done, what he is fighting for. It is pride for our country.” These are the words of Zarganar’s father, the writer Nan Nyunt Swe.

Zarganar’s conviction to 45 years in jail in 2008 (reduced to 35 years in February 2009) has been a terrible strain on his family. Asked if his son’s imprisonment has made it hard for the family to carry on, Nan Nyunt Swe’s simple answer speaks volumes: “We still survive. Sometimes we don’t have enough...but ‘TIB’”. This is Burma.

The regime has been cruel. Zarganar’s mother, Kyi Oo, a writer on Burmese culture and society who took an active role in the independence movement, died in March 2009. She brought her youngest son up to speak out against unfairness, but he inherited something else too. “She had a sense of humor,” says Nan Nyunt Swe. “Among our sons, Zarganar obtained his mother’s genius.” From a young age he accompanied his parents on speaking tours, and entertained people by giving performances and doing impersonations.

Kyi Oo was a vocal critic of the country’s political development, leading to her own work being banned regularly by Rangoon’s censorship board. Her refusal to be cowed into silence made her a living symbol of resistance. Although the family asked the authorities to allow Zarganar to see his mother before she died, this was denied, as was a request to attend her funeral.

In a recent interview, Nan Nyunt Swe spoke of his fears for his son. “He is not in good health, he has bad kidneys and we worry he will get hepatitis or something worse in the prison. There was a rumour last week he had passed away. It is upsetting. It takes time to get to the truth.” His concerns are understandable. Zarganar is not allowed contact with anyone while he is in jail. He has been tortured and had his teeth pulled out by his captors during an earlier jail term. “No more public performances,” they told him. The irony of this barbaric act might be amusing if it were not so chilling. The comedian qualified as a dentist and his name means “tweezers”, alluding to his medical training.

Nan Nyunt Swe, like his wife and son, is a political activist, and understands the risks of taking a stand. He once gave a speech at the home of pro-democracy campaigner Aung San Suu Kyi before she herself was jailed, resulting in a ban on Nan Nyunt Swe by state censors. “The government has made it hard for me to write, I can no longer use my famous pen name... but I’m still writing.” His frustration shows. “My son is just a simple man, a clown. He didn’t do anything wrong against the country. I can’t understand why he has been imprisoned.”

Zarganar was not always punished for his sense of humour. He revived the traditional Burmese role of a court jester, allowed to criticise the leadership. For a while, the military authorities tolerated him, and once even invited him to perform for them. But as the political climate deteriorated, the authorities lost patience and attempts were made to silence him.

A lot of Zarganar’s humour is based on double entendres and puns, which work well in the tonal, monosyllabic Burmese language, but are hard to translate. He is credited with reviving a type of entertainment called anyeint , traditionally performed by female singers and dancers along with a troupe of comedians. Zarganar reinvigorated anyeint, which had been in decline, to satirise the government. Audiences were drawn to his vaudevillian routines with their seemingly innocent silly banter, not only because they were funny, but because they cleverly made fun of the regime.

Nan Nyunt Swe takes heart from his son winning the 2008 Freedom to Create Imprisoned Artist Prize, and what that has done to publicise political imprisonment in Burma. “It is good to know that other countries care about my son, and my country, and are aware of what is happening.” He feels it gives his countrymen courage. “Most people are afraid, but so [the prize and publicity] will encourage our people to be brave for their country.”

In spite of everything, Zarganar appears to remain surprisingly buoyant. He believes that his own incarceration is futile. Humour cannot be suppressed. Before he was imprisoned he told a Burmese newspaper: “There are always under-the-table jokes and behind-the-curtain humour.” When he was free, his crowd-pulling ability was second only to that of Aung San Suu Kyi, and his jokes were passed on by word of mouth throughout Burma. He may be silent for now, but his voice is not forgotten.