Whereas impunity is typically known by the absence of accountability, this article attends to impunity's presence. It does so via two instances of impunity drawn from research in contemporary Myanmar. In these, police and soldiers contained and managed demands for accountability for torture and killing, even as political and social conditions seemed to change in favor of human rights. Through them, the article invites a rethinking of impunity beyond the parameters of projects for accountability in the case of past, massive human rights violations, so as to take the recurrent, routine practice of impunity seriously.
Why do authoritarian rulers establish special courts? One view is that they do so to insulate the judiciary from politically oriented cases and allow it continued, albeit limited, independence. In this article I present a contrary case study of an authoritarian regime in Burma that used special courts not to insulate the judiciary but to defeat it. Through comparison to other Asian cases I suggest that the Burmese regime's composition and character better explain its strategy than does extant judicial authority or formal ideology. The regime consisted of war fighters for whom the courts were enemy territory. But absent popular support, the regime's leaders could not embark immediately on a radical project for legal change that might compromise their hold on power. Consequently, they used special courts and other strategies to defeat judicial independence incrementally, until they could displace the professional judiciary and bring the courts fully under executive control.
The rule of law is a political ideal today endorsed and promoted worldwide. Or is it? In a significant contribution to the field, Nick Cheesman argues that Myanmar is a country in which the rule of law is 'lexically present but semantically absent'. Charting ideas and practices from British colonial rule through military dictatorship to the present day, Cheesman calls upon political and legal theory to explain how and why institutions animated by a concern for law and order oppose the rule of law. Empirically grounded in both Burmese and English sources, including criminal trial records and wide ranging official documents, Opposing the Rule of Law offers the first significant study of courts in contemporary Myanmar. It sheds new light on the politics of courts during dark times and sharply illuminates the tension between the demand for law and the imperatives of order.
Talk of the rule of law is today ubiquitous in Myanmar. But what does the rule of law mean? And what does it have to do with the country's nascent democratization? One way to conceptualize the rule of law is in terms of substantive legal equality. Burmese farmers and activists mobilizing through the lexicon of law to defend agricultural land against intrusive state projects engage with the rule of law in this sense. Another way is as a language of public and state security. Demands for the rule of law in response to violence in Myanmar's west correspond with this usage. Whereas in established democracies the rule of law as equality complements the rule of law as security, in a democratizing state the two are not necessarily compatible. The rule of law as an idea associated with substantive legal equality contributes to Myanmar's democratization, whereas when associated with public and state security it potentially undermines that democratization.
Why do authoritarian rulers establish special courts? One view is that they do so to insulate the judiciary from politically oriented cases and allow it continued, albeit limited, independence. In this article I present a contrary case study of an authoritarian regime in Burma that used special courts not to insulate the judiciary but to defeat it. Through comparison to other Asian cases I suggest that the Burmese regime's composition and character better explain its strategy than does extant judicial authority or formal ideology. The regime consisted of war fighters for whom the courts were enemy territory. But absent popular support, the regime's leaders could not embark immediately on a radical project for legal change that might compromise their hold on power. Consequently, they used special courts and other strategies to defeat judicial independence incrementally, until they could displace the professional judiciary and bring the courts fully under executive control.
The rhetorical force of the rule of law is acknowledged through official discourse in Myanmar just as it is in other countries across Asia and around the world. Given that Myanmar manifestly does not conform to substantive models of the rule of law, which are associated with democratic government and individual liberties, might it conform to a minimalist one? Is there in Myanmar a thin rule of law to which the military government can lay claim, one compatible even with grave abuses of human rights? Or is there only "un-rule of law"? Beginning with some theoretical concerns, this article passes briefly through a review of law and rule-of-law rhetoric in the country's modern history before arriving at the present day. It recounts a court case arising from a recent historic event, the September 2007 antigovernment protests, to query whether or not a thin rule of law can, in Myanmar at least, be said to coexist with authoritarian rule. It concludes that it cannot. But if the army in Myanmar has succeeded in overwhelming the courts at cost of the rule of law, ironically in doing this it may also have averted a worse scenario, one in which the denial of fundamental rights for which it is well known could be even greater than at present.
Talk of the rule of law is today ubiquitous in Myanmar. But what does the rule of law mean? And what does it have to do with the country's nascent democratization? One way to conceptualize the rule of law is in terms of substantive legal equality. Burmese farmers and activists mobilizing through the lexicon of law to defend agricultural land against intrusive state projects engage with the rule of law in this sense. Another way is as a language of public and state security. Demands for the rule of law in response to violence in Myanmar's west correspond with this usage. Whereas in established democracies the rule of law as equality complements the rule of law as security, in a democratizing state the two are not necessarily compatible. The rule of law as an idea associated with substantive legal equality contributes to Myanmar's democratization, whereas when associated with public and state security it potentially undermines that democratization.
The rhetorical force of the rule of law is acknowledged through official discourse in Myanmar just as it is in other countries across Asia and around the world. Given that Myanmar manifestly does not conform to substantive models of the rule of law, which are associated with democratic government and individual liberties, might it conform to a minimalist one? Is there in Myanmar a thin rule of law to which the military government can lay claim, one compatible even with grave abuses of human rights? Or is there only "un-rule of law"? Beginning with some theoretical concerns, this article passes briefly through a review of law and rule-of-law rhetoric in the country's modern history before arriving at the present day. It recounts a court case arising from a recent historic event, the September 2007 antigovernment protests, to query whether or not a thin rule of law can, in Myanmar at least, be said to coexist with authoritarian rule. It concludes that it cannot. But if the army in Myanmar has succeeded in overwhelming the courts at cost of the rule of law, ironically in doing this it may also have averted a worse scenario, one in which the denial of fundamental rights for which it is well known could be even greater than at present.
This study investigated the effects of two different velocity-based training (VBT) regimens on muscular adaptations. Fifteen female college volleyball players were randomly assigned into either progressive velocity-based training (PVBT) or optimum training load (OTL). Both groups trained three times a week for seven weeks. PVBT performed a 4-week strength block (e.g., 0.55–0.70 m·s−1) followed by a 3-week power block (e.g., 0.85–1.0 m·s−1), whereas OTL performed training at ~0.85–0.9 m·s−1. 1RM and peak power output (PP) assessments on the back squat (BS), bench press (BP) and deadlift (DL) exercises were assessed pre and post training. There was a main time effect (p ≤ 0.05) for BS and BP 1RM, (PVBT: 19.6%, ES: 1.72; OTL: 18.3%, ES: 1.57) and (PVBT: 8.5%, ES: 0.58; OTL: 10.2%, ES: 0.72), respectively. OTL increased DL 1RM to a greater extent than PVBT (p ≤ 0.05), (OTL: 22.9%, ES: 1.49; PVBT: 10.9%, ES: 0.88). Lastly, there was a main time effect (p ≤ 0.05) for BS, BP and DL PP, (PVBT: 18.3%, ES: 0.86; OTL: 19.8%, ES: 0.79); (PVBT: 14.5%, ES: 0.81; OTL: 27.9%, ES: 1.68); (PVBT: 15.7%, ES: 1.32; OTL: 20.1%, ES: 1.77) respectively. Our data suggest that both VBT regimens are effective for improving muscular performance in college volleyball players during the offseason period.
