'Pray for Burma'

THE sheer scale of the protest is evident in the red river snaking down the street in the Burmese city of Rangoon. Many of the 100,000 Buddhist monks have their hands clasped in prayer, shaven heads bowed. In their red robes, they are a beacon of democratic hope for the people of Burma who have been repressed by the ruling junta for decades.

Watching the scenes unfold on television in Australia, James Mawdsley feels a mixture of hope and fear. "You hope against hope that freedom will come but there is the fear that it could all turn into another massacre," he says. "I'm optimistic. I don't think they're going to get away with it this time."

During the last democracy uprising in 1988, some 3,000 people were slaughtered. The latest protests have been sparked by the military government hiking up the price of fuel which, in turn, has forced up the price of public transport and food.

Around 400 pro-democracy activists led initial protests, which were dispersed by the military on August 19. Since then, the monks have joined the cause to overthrow the government, their numbers growing by the day.

But while monks are highly revered in Burma, and any move by the junta to crush their demonstrations would spark an outcry, many are fearful that the protests will descend into another bloodbath. And James, 34, knows only too well how brutal the regime is. He was arrested in Tachilek, a small town on the Thai-Burma border in 1999 after handing out pro-democracy leaflets in protest at the death of eight friends.

"It was what I'd heard and read that caused me to go out there in the first place, to see if it was really true and if those terrible things happened," says James, a student at the time and whose mother, Diana, lives in Brancepeth, Durham. "Then they destroyed the village that I lived in and my eight friends being murdered was the final straw."

Home for the next 14 months was a filthy 8ft by 15ft cell. The heat was unbearable, algae grew in the water jug and his bed - which he shared with bugs and mosquitoes - was a wooden pallet. He endured days of questioning and physical abuse. They tortured him: flicking a rolled up towel at his genitals, forcing a pen between his knuckles and squeezing his hand together - an excruciatingly painful move which caused him to pass out - and running an iron rod up and down his shins, which would strip his skin away. If he passed out with the pain, they would set upon him, kicking and beating until he came round again. Ten months after his ordeal, he recalled the sheer terror of his situation.

"I would hear a voice shouting 'torture' followed by a sinister laugh. I have never been so terrified," he said, adding that his main fear at the time was that he would simply disappear, like countless victims before him.

Eight years later, and the trauma he felt in the months after his release has left him. Today, he considers the isolation to have been one of the worst aspects of his incarceration, adding quickly: "I don't think about it though. I'm always aware that the Burmese suffer a lot more than I did because I had a lot more protection from them."

Having been born a Roman Catholic, he talks of how he found Christ while in prison, a discovery which was central to his survival.

"There was a moment when I realised that no matter how terrible my predicament was, I could still love - even love the guards," he says. "I don't mean give them a hug, but it set me free when I had this overwhelming feeling of God's love."

Somewhat magnanimously, he doesn't hold his experiences against his captors, explaining that he was the one who'd sought arrest. "I provoked them in a sense," he says. "They're the ones who are lost and confused, that's not to excuse their behaviour, but it makes you realise that they're just men and women like us.

"I don't see any fault. I wanted to come face-to-face with the regime and I realised the most realistic way to do that was to get arrested. What caused me anger was the way that they were treating other inmates. I could get certain concessions because I had the British and Australian governments behind me but other people were treated like animals. They're consciences are so dead they don't register that what they're doing is wrong."

After his release, James turned to politics as a way to fight the injustices he saw. Standing for the Conservatives in Hyndburn, Lancashire, in the 2005 General Election, he polled 31.8 per cent of the vote with 12,549, second to Labour's 18,136 votes.

"I had a go at politics through conventional means but, to be honest, I don't think our political system is capable of addressing evil," he says.

It is clear that the plight of the Burmese is still important to James. He has been back to Burma three times, the last in 2003, and set up a charity, The Metta Trust for Children's Education, helping children in the refugee camp schools on the Thai/Burma border gain access to education. The charity has since merged with Child Action International.

"The situation in Burma is never far from my thoughts," he says.

As of last night, and in the face of world-wide condemnation, the Burmese government had exercised restraint, possibly as a result of China, Burma's most important trading partner, urging caution.

"The regime has been in since 1962 and is run by a group of about 20 generals," says James. "They are solely driven by lust for money and power. But they are also paranoid and terrified. They keep power by crushing people."

The difference between Burma now and in 1988, however, is the growth of communication. The world, and Burma itself, can see the scale of the demonstrations against the government and the support for Aung San Suu Kyi, the leader of the opposition party, the National League for Democracy, who has been under house arrest for 17 years.

While James welcomes the condemnation from the British Government, he questions the role of the United Nations to tackle brutal regimes such as in Burma. "If China can veto a security council resolution what is the point of the security council?" he says.

James is currently staying with his brother, Jon, in Australia, watching events unfold. Asked what his plans for the future are and he is suddenly reticent. "Best not to speak about it," he says. "... pray for Burma and see what can be done."