Next week is the anniversary of the suppression of the pro-democracy movement in Burma. On August 8, 1988, thousands of unarmed protesters took to the streets of Rangoon, the Burmese capital. By late evening, hundreds of thousands of protesters gathered outside Rangoon’s city hall. Then, Burmese army armoured vehicles and soldiers made their appearance. Once the firing started, panic gripped the crowd.

No one knows how many people died as a consequence of this act of blatant military repression, but what figures there are suggest as many as 2000 protesters were killed. No doubt the unofficial count was much higher.

The attitude of military authorities was summed up by Burma’s then ruler, General Ne Win, who said: ‘’I want the entire nation, the people, to know that if the army shoots, it hits - there is no firing into the air to scare.'’

This was the terrible price the Burmese people paid for democracy. The defeat for Burmese democracy was an unmitigated tragedy, but out of this episode the pro-democracy movement in Burma redoubled its efforts.

In 1990, the Burmese military loosened its grip on political power, partly as a result of international pressure, and acquiesced to demands for free elections. In an apparent triumph over severe adversity, these elections saw Burma’s major opposition party, the National League for Democracy (NLD), headed by Daw Aung San Suu Kyi, win 80 per cent of the available seats.

Fearing total loss of power as well as the possibility of war crimes trials against senior members of the Burmese junta, military rulers robbed the Burmese people of their chance for democracy. Aung San Suu Kyi, as well as other leading pro-democracy figures, was placed under house arrest and the election results ignored.

The events of 1988 were a defining moment for the modern Burmese political landscape. It led to the 1990 elections and the nullification of those results.

The Burmese people are still living with the results of the military crackdown of ‘88 and its aftermath. Since 1990, political freedoms in Burma have continued to be curtailed. In many instances, political dissent is met with brutal, state-sanctioned violence, meted out by the so-called State Peace and Development Council (SPDC).

The Australian Government’s policy on Rangoon’s overt human-rights violations and assaults on political liberty is limited engagement. This position argues that keeping some diplomatic channels open to Rangoon will make the SPDC less isolated and therefore less likely to indulge in uncontrolled violence.

Implicit in this is a hope that by keeping low-level channels open, the Burmese military junta will see the error of its ways and reform, or eventually give political power back to the people.

The Burmese military have been in control since 1962. In 2006, they do not look like honouring the 1990 parliamentary election results any time soon. In late May, a draft resolution on Burma was defeated in the United Nations Security Council. The dissenting voices on the Security Council came from the Russians, Chinese and Japanese.

Complicating our position is the fact that China and Japan are Australia’s key regional trading partners and unlikely to be easily moved to change their positions.

We must push for a UNSC resolution as promoted by many including the ASEAN Inter-parliamentary Myanmar Caucus (the two-day meeting I attended the weekend before last).

As we approach this anniversary, we should also consider whether our Government’s position on Burma will reap the positive results intended.

For the country’s internal politics to change, the international community, Australia included, must keep applying concerted pressure on Rangoon.

Natasha Stott Despoja is Democrats senator for South Australia.