Rangoon's "saffron protesters" may have failed to restore democracy. They have, however, achieved something else. They've helped restore their country's name, not just in the sense of its reputation, but literally as well.
Since the protests got under way, Burma seems to have become generally known as "Burma". Up until last month, however, things were different: the country tended to be styled "Myanmar". This is the name adopted in 1989 by the country's military rulers in place of the one agreed at independence in 1948, namely The Republic of Burma.
The junta's reasons for the change are thought to include suspicion of the colloquial Burmese language, which they considered subversive. Doubtless, they also hoped to claim bogus revolutionary legitimacy by cutting a link with the colonial era. Above all, they must have intended to stamp their proprietorship on the country, just as the new owners of an Acacia Avenue semi choose to rename it Dunroamin'.
Pro-democracy protesters maintained that unelected rulers had no right to change the country's name. Minority groups that had come to accept the name "Burma" regarded the change as institutionalising the domination of the ethnic majority. None the less, in the outside world, most people seem to have decided to go along with the junta.
Those considering themselves progressive were among the keenest to comply. The United Nations uses the junta-approved name. So does Lonely Planet. Even Amnesty International chooses to rail against the abuse of human rights in Myanmar, rather than Burma. People stubbornly continuing to call the place Burma have sometimes been treated as Blimpish reactionaries, still hankering for a sun-downer by the road to Mandalay.
Why, though, were the right-thinking so ready to gratify a despotic regime? Apparently, political correctness now requires that things must be called what their owners want them to be called. If others are in the habit of calling them something else, too bad. Those with identity issues must, it seems, be treated sensitively. We appear to be required to foster their self-esteem.
Be that as it may, we abandoned Peking for Beijing without a whimper, leaving Peking duck and even Peking University high and dry. Bombay must become Mumbai to the world, wherever that leaves Bollywood. Pretoria is to disappear from the map. Even the "s" on the end of Marseilles and Lyons seems to be disappearing from airline schedules.
This process makes the world feel unstable and disturbing. The planet's very geography begins to seem provisional. Genuine confusion is generated, with travellers arriving in Beijing still, apparently, asking how they can get to Peking. More fundamentally, however, an issue of principle is raised.
Should names be determined by usage, or by the fiat of interested parties? Ought we to be referring to the Pope as His Holiness, the Queen as Her Majesty and North Korea's Kim Jong-il as Dear Leader, if this would make them happier? That road leaves us at the mercy of those intent on exploiting labels to bamboozle, propagandise and confuse.
By calling our last prime minister "Tony", because he wanted us to, we bought into his plan to make us consider him our mate. Princess Anne showed more mettle when his wife asked to be called Cherie. "Let's stick to Mrs Blair, shall we," was the royal response.
You may think this a trivial issue. Yet, to refer to a few faraway islands as either the Falklands or the Malvinas is to throw your weight behind one side or the other in a dispute that has cost hundreds of lives. You may think we've no choice but to call things what their owners call them. Yet, we don't, yet, call Paris "Paree", and the French don't call Londres "London".
Things that are actually new, such as nations carved out of former colonial territories, are entitled to new names. However, that doesn't mean we have to connive in the renaming of existing entities. Would-be name-changers can sometimes be faced down by determined opposition, as Burma's should have been. If we but hold our ground, old names, like St Petersburg, may eventually re-emerge of their own accord, as they shake off baptismal insults.
The names we use become sanctified by familiarity, tradition and history. They instil comfort and confidence. We should resist politically motivated efforts to steal them from us.
