The Burmese crisis - caused by a cyclone, exacerbated by its leaders - continues to kill thousands. Owen Amos speaks to one North-East man who spent 14 months in a Burmese prison - and who has a firm message for the West.

IF anyone knows Burma, it is James Mawdsley.

He is the man who was sentenced to 17 years in prison for handing out pro-democracy leaflets. Who spent 14 months in an 8ft by 15ft cell, shared with rats, filth and oppressive heat. Who had iron rods rolled up his shins until the skin peeled, clubs whacked round his legs, and petrol-soaked blindfolds over his eyes.

And now he is the man demanding immediate Western action on Burma.

"People are saying frank comments from Western diplomats could antagonise the junta - but they couldn't be antagonised any more," he says. "We should be dropping aid today, landing helicopters with medics today. We have an opportunity to save thousands of lives. It's a no-brainer."

Burma - between India, Thailand, and China, with a 55 million population - was a British colony from the 19th Century to 1948. In 1962, a coup d'etat installed a military government. Industries are state-run, and the black market casts a shadow over the economy.

Or, what passes for the economy.

Heroin is a major export.

In 1990, in the first multi-party elections for 30 years, Nobel Peace Prize winner Aung San Suu Kyi's party won a landslide victory. The military has never let the party govern. Dissent is attacked and the media is controlled.

Even the football team's defeats are censored. Signs, in English and Burmese, declare: "Cooperate and crush all those harming the union".

Last month, it was just another rogue state, just another place that was nasty, but easily ignored. Until the cyclone. It hit on May 2, developing in the Bay of Bengal before rampaging north-west and battering Burma. So far, at least 44,000 people have died, with 28,000 still missing.

The cyclone would be bad enough. What made it worse was Burma's leaders. They initially refused foreign aid, fearing prying eyes in their devastated home. The country, anyway, was a mess. The government had nothing to be proud of. Eventually - five days after the cyclone hit - Burma asked the UN for help. The UK has sent £5m, the US £8m.

But even now, Burmese militants sell aid to the highest bidder. That black market shadow is stubborn.

Accordingly, aid agencies fear the death toll could top one million. While people die, charity workers have been denied visas. This is why nasty states cannot be ignored for long.

"People seem to be encouraged by the increase in the number of planes into Rangoon," says James.

"But that's not the necessary result - the result is food in mouths. Planes in Rangoon is a world away from food in mouths. They are selling food that's come as aid on the market - it's unbelievable.

"We don't need any more evidence against the regime. When they smash monks' heads against a wall, as they have done - and not just one monk - we don't need any more evidence. It's making myself and others more and more angry that the regime is so obdurate. It shouldn't be a surprise to anyone.

When I was in prison, I told a doctor that other prisoners had their skin falling off because of vitamin deficiencies. They did nothing."

While people died and aid was blocked, the government got on with important stuff: encouraging votes for a phoney, military-backed constitution. Nero fiddled while Rome burned, the Burmese junta makes adverts while people drown.

"They are organising the other part of the referendum for May 24 - they have people dying and they just want to finish their referendum,"

says James. "They couldn't care less about people's lives or welfare. They understand that if aid comes in, it will make the regime look bad in comparison. It will show their neglect of the country.

That's all they care about - status. The welfare of the people means nothing to them."

James is adamant: the West must take immediate action. But, since Iraq, "intervention" - a euphemism, if ever there was one - is a dirty word.

White men stepping off helicopters in muggy, foreign lands conjures up Vietnam and Iraq and a thousand battles gone wrong. Yet the alternative is far worse, says the man whose shins were stripped by iron rods.

"People talk about diplomacy, pressure from China, India, Thailand - but that's another feeble prevarication," says James. "If China and India understand the situation, then what are they waiting for? The only thing we must be careful of is not giving the impression of trying to grab territory. We must be in and out quite quickly and reassure people it's not more than a humanitarian drop.

"If aid workers come under fire, or aid helicopters come under fire, so long as we don't shoot first, so be it. But if people fire at relief workers, they should come under fire themselves. I think there are a thousand opportunities that we are missing for non-violent, soft-power support for pro-freedom movements and all for the price of one fighter jet, or a couple of ballistic missiles. The West is missing a trick. The more we rely on hard power, the more dangerous we make the world."

BUT James - a physics graduate schooled in Hexham and whose mother lives near Durham - has hope. He has "mostly positive"

memories of Burma - he returned, secretly, after being released - and found Christ while in prison.

"To be honest, I've been through as much upset on Burma as I can take," he says. "I have hope in Jesus Christ and I believe he will redeem the world - and we can participate in that. But we will not do it through hard power, or dithering. We will not do it through naive diplomacy, or people not interested in helping.

"We should do it now and worry about the law later. If we were prosecuted under international law for saving thousands of lives, who cares? We have saved lives. It's the same thing happening in Burma over and over again - the outside world waits breathlessly, waiting for the regime to deliver.

But it won't."