By Myint Zan

 

Arrival at Monash University, Australia: More complicated than taking the wrong bus to Khabaung Hall at RASU

 

OUT of my parents and my own arrangement, I left for Australia in March 1979 to study my own postgrad­uate, Master of Laws (LLM) studies at Monash University in Australia.

After a few days’ stop in Syd­ney, I proceeded to Melbourne by air. I have an introduction letter from retired Burmese Chief Jus­tice U Myint Thein (22 February 1900-3 October 1994) to then Chief Justice of Australia Sir Garfield Barwick (22 June 1903-13 July 1997), and I went to see Sir Gar­field in his office in Sydney to pay my respects to him. Later on, I was told by Uncle U Myint Thein that Sir Garfield wrote to U Myint Thein, thanking him for his letter and that I was a ‘smart young man’ or words to that effect.

 

On or about 31 March 1979, I proceeded by plane from Sydney to Melbourne. I sent a telegram from Sydney to Melbourne to the Sub-Dean of the Law Faculty, Dr Malcolm D H (David, Hamilton) Smith (Mal) (21 August 1945-22 June 2006), that I would be arriv­ing at Melbourne’s Tullamarine airport on or about 1 April 1979. I provided the flight number and the scheduled arrival time in the telegram. (Mal has written to me to inform him and Monash staff of my scheduled arrival. In retro­spect, I should have telephoned him (see below).

 

When I arrived at Melbourne airport, there was no one to meet me. I approached one of the ground staff at the airport about how to proceed to the How­itt Hall of Monash University, where they had made a book­ing for the student hostel. The woman ground staff telephoned Monash Uni switchboard, say­ing, I recall correctly, ‘there’s a chap here who said someone is supposed to take him to Monash University, how do I assist him,’ or words to that effect. It was a weekend, so the Law Faculty was closed. I inquired from the ground staff on how to proceed to Monash University, and they gave me directions. So, my very first arrival in Melbourne to go to Howitt Hall of Monash University in 31 March 1979 or 1 April 1979 was more complicated than going back from Rangoon University to Khabaung Hall by three buses on Fresher welcome day at RASU on 1 September 1970 (as stated in my article in 3 October 2025 issue of GNLM ‘Reminiscences of RASU Fresher Day’).

 

First, I took a bus from Mel­bourne’s Tullamarine airport to the Flinders Street railway sta­tion in the middle of the city. I alighted from the bus at Flinders Street railway station with my two bags, which I had to carry along with me. I did check the signboard at the railway sta­tion and/or enquire again from the ground staff, which would take me to the nearest station to Monash University (Clayton campus). Then I walked down the stairs and took the relevant rail­way line to go to the nearest train station to Monash University.

 

This time, unlike my trip from RASU to Khabaung Hall, I took the right train line. From the nearest train station, there was (in 1979) and there still is in 2025 (from internet search) a shuttle bus that goes to Monash Univer­sity (Clayton campus). I took the bus to Monash campus. The bus stop was close to the Faculty of Law at Monash University. Since it was a weekend end the Faculty was closed. How to get to Howitt Hall about at least a few thousand yards away, with my two bags? Felicitously, a Monash security patrol was touring in a minivan. I requested his help to send me to Howitt Hall. He radioed his colleague that he was ‘sending a young man who has just arrived in the country’ to Howitt Hall.

 

Later on, I narrated the story to my Australian friend, Dr Frank and Mrs Margot Broderick. When they visited Burma and narrated that to my late father, Dr San Baw (29 June 1922-7 Decem­ber 1984), this ‘story’. My father told them that if he had known in advance of me proceeding alone from Melbourne airport by bus, train and bus again to the Monash University halls of residence, he would have been much worried.

 

I checked in at Howitt Hall, and on Monday, 2 April 1979, I walked to the Faculty of Law. I first met the Secretary of the Law Faculty, Ms Zoe Pask (later Edney), and she was very sur­prised that I had arrived without informing them. (I do not know where Zoe is now) I explained the situation. When I met Dr Malcolm Smith and he confirmed that he had not received my telegram.

 

Professor C G Weeramantry and his comments on the ‘Mums and Dads’ judicial system

On my first day at Monash Law Faculty, I also met Professor C G Weeramantry (from Sri Lan­ka) (17 November 1926-5 January 2017) and Mr Leighton Morris, a Senior Lecturer at the Law Facul­ty. Professor Weeramantry later became a Judge in the Interna­tional Court of Justice and its Vice President. I was to enrol in their classes that semester (‘Theories of Justice’ with Weeramantry and ‘Air Law’ with Leighton Morris). When I first met Weeramantry, I ended my sentences with ‘sir’. After a few ‘sirs’ from me, Pro­fessor Weeramantry (hereafter at times ‘W’) said, “It is no longer a tradition to end your sentenc­es with sir. You will get used to that.” To which I almost replied with a ‘Yes, sir’. When I met him again at the University of Ma­laya Law Faculty, where he was a guest speaker in August 1991, I said once or twice ‘sir’ to him albeit he did not correct me that time. I was a commentator on his presentation ‘Does International Law Matter’ which he gave at the Shangri-La Hotel in Kuala Lumpur a few days earlier.

 

When we first met in April 1979, Weeramantry also asked me whether there is a ‘Mums and Dads’ judicial system in Burma. Weeramantry was referring to the People’s judicial system prac­tised in Burma since 7 August 1972 to about September 1988. Around 90 per cent of the then People’s Judges do not have any legal qualifications, and they took the place of professional judges starting on that day. The late Ju­dicial Minister (as he then was), Dr Maung Maung (31 January 1925- 1 July 1994). (in the Bur­mese language) Courts Manual in the year 1972 wrote that ‘just because the People’s judges do not have University or Law de­grees, do not assume that they cannot be competent judges. Most Mums and Dads had to ad­judicate disputes between their children. And the administration of justice is as simple as that’.

 

That report by the late jour­nalist ‘M C Tun’ (Maung Chit Tun) appeared in the August 1972 issue of the now-defunct Far Eastern Economic Review. W told me that the news item was distributed to the delegates at an international conference on comparative law. That was how W came to know about ‘Mum’s and Dad’s judicial system’. I took Professor Weeramantry’s course ‘Theories of Justice’. As for the term paper, he suggested that I write a jurisprudential analy­sis of the then-Burmese judicial system. I submitted a 7,500-word term paper titled ‘A commentary on the current Burmese (Peo­ple’s Justice) judicial system from the viewpoints of Plato, the Socialist School and the Ameri­can realist movement’. W gave me a credit on that paper, albeit in the comments he wrote ‘ … The candidate writes reasonably well but is prone to making mistakes in English expression. Examples are (he gave a few examples) … therefore, a wide course of reading in English and a concen­tration on English expression is recommended if he is to do well in the rest of the course. He had the ability and analytical skills required, and it would be a pity if he allowed this weakness to mar his presentations’. Unfortunately, I have lost the paper that I wrote for the Theories of Justice course.

 

The telegram from Sydney to Melbourne that took 42 days to reach its destination

But back to the telegram that I sent on or about 30 March 1979 from Sydney to Mal (Dr Malcolm Smith). Around mid-May 1979, roughly about 42 days after I sent the telegram, Mal sent me a handwritten note stating to the effect to come and see him since he wanted to show me something. When I went to see him in his office, there it was, the telegram that I sent to Mal about 42 days ago! I affirm that this really did happen, and even now, I am at a loss as to how that telegram took 42 days to reach its destination.

 

Why don’t you write your term papers in Burmese?

I am embarrassed to admit that my handwriting is bad. I first wrote my term paper in my hand­writing before I requested Ms Zoe Pask (mentioned above) to type it for me. Zoe, at times, had difficulty reading my handwriting. Mal teasingly said, ‘Why don’t you write in Burmese?’. Even though I arranged to type my Theories of Justice paper in the first semes­ter of 1979 for the second semes­ter in the Comparative Family Law course taught by visiting Professor Winston P Nagan from the University of Florida in the United States, I was unable to arrange to type it. Professor Na­gan taught Comparative Family Law, and I wrote about ‘A Com­parison of Divorce in Australian Law and Burmese Customary Law’. Both Weeramantry and Nagan awarded me with Credit. W gave me 65 per cent – a credit. Winston Nagan gave me 70 per cent ( five marks short of distinc­tion). Slightly different from Prof. W’s remarks on my writing skills Professor Nagan wrote that my ‘writing skills are, taking his back­ground into account, surprisingly good’. Winston Nagan also wrote that ‘if I had been unnecessarily stingy with my marks (by not giv­ing a distinction), it is because the handwritten paper makes precise marking difficult’. I am grateful to both the late Professor Malcom Smith, the late Professor and judge Christopher Weeramantry and Professor Winston P. Nagan for their concern, dedication and teaching.

 

I have written that Monash Law was my first post-graduate law study experience. But I did not graduate from Monash Law, as I would briefly narrate.

 

I have to take two subjects in the first semester (March to June 1979) at Monash. As a person who has an interest in both interna­tional law and legal philosophy (Jurisprudence), I decided to take Theories of Justice (taught by Weeramantry) and Interna­tional Economic Law, taught by Mr Andrew Farran. (A web search indicates that Professor Farran is academically active and is contributing articles on, among others, Donald Trump’s tariffs as recently as June 2025). But Weeramantry’s and Farran’s classes were held at the same time in different rooms. So, I had to take the second choice of ‘Air Law’. For a person who is not that well-trained in aspects of common law of Contract, Torts, Property, Carriage of Goods, etc., it was a difficult course for me. It caused me considerable anxiety. I wrote to my parents about my worries over the course. I also went to Malcolm Smith’s office, talking to him about ‘Air Law’. Mal mentioned in one of his ref­erence letters that I overcame the difficulties one by one and passed the course. Though I was slack in not sending a telegram to my parents after I arrived at Monash, I did send a telegram to my father, who then was chief of orthopaedic surgery at Rangoon General Hospital: ‘Pass Air Law exam’. I learned that my father almost shouted and showed the telegram to the late gynaecolo­gist and Chair of the then Burma Medical Association, the late Dr Shwe Tin and his family.

 

In the second semester, I was scheduled to take two courses. In addition to Comparative Family Law, taught by Professor Nagan as stated above, I initially enrolled in International Air Law (not merely domestic air law, a new course), also taught by Leighton Morris. Leighton told me not to make too many photocopies of cases since he said ‘it gives a false sense of security’. Fearing that I might not do well in the course, I withdrew from it.

 

In the (Australian) sum­mer of 1979-80, I did not take any courses but worked clerical jobs, which the late Professor Enid Campbell (30 October 1922- 20 January 2010) assigned to me.

 

From Monash to The Australian National University

I was scheduled to take ‘Jap­anese Law’ where Mal Smith was the course convenor. In the first semester of 1979, Mal suggested that I take his course ‘Japanese Law’, which I did not. I opt for ‘Air Law’. As compensation, I enrolled in Japanese Law for the first se­mester in 1980. Then, on 6 March 1980, I received the following tel­egram from the late G E Dicker, the Registrar of the Australian National University

 

QUOTE

Glad to offer an ANU Mas­ter’s Degree Scholarship for the Master of International Law by coursework. Letter Follows. Please respond by 11 March. Re­gards. Dicker NatUniv.

 

UNQUOTE

I applied for scholarships in October 1979 at both Monash and ANU Law and had given up on them by March 1980 since I had not heard from them. Then came the ANU offer.

 

I discussed the ANU schol­arship with then Sub-Dean Fran­cine McKniff (24 March 1948-2 April 2015), and she said it would not be possible for me to get a scholarship at Monash at this late stage for the academic year 1980. She suggested that I take the ANU offer and wrote me a letter of introduction to the co­ordinator of the Graduate Inter­national Programme at the ANU, Dr J-P Fonteyne (I cannot verify his whereabouts now). Part of the letter by Francine reads, ‘We are sorry to lose him from Monash. But the realities of finances are such that we wish him all the best for his work in Canberra’.

 

Malcolm Smith as Mentor

I am grateful and pay my re­spects to my teachers at Monash: the late Professor Weeramantry, Professor Winston Nagan and Mr Leighton Morris as well as to the late Francine McKniff for her kind words she wrote (Francine bequeathed 3.2 million Australian dollars to her alma mater Monash Law for a Chair in Criminology and for two PhD students to study criminology in perpetuity) on-line sources stated. But my foremost mentor for more than 25 years, since my Monash days, was the late Professor Malcolm Smith. Sadly, Mal passed away at the age of sixty in 2006. The 21st of August 2025 would have been his eightieth birthday. There is a Malcolm D H Smith scholarship for students doing Asian (Law) Studies at the University of Mel­bourne Law School, and I have contributed funds to it.

 

About a year before Mal passed away, I dedicated my article published in the Victoria University of Wellington Law Review to Mal. He kindly thanked me for the honour of the Dedi­cation.

 

This Monash reminiscence, so to speak, is also dedicated to the memory of Mal Smith.