Burma has been ruled by a military dictatorship for the past 45 years. And though the secretive cabal of army generals has briefly dabbled with democracy, allowing a general election in 1990 that massively endorsed the opposition National League for Democracy, the military refused to concede defeat, placed the party’s leader, Aung San Suu Kyi, under house arrest and has since refused to negotiate, share power or make any concession to those inside and outside Burma demanding more freedom. The current demonstrations by tens of thousands of revered Buddhist monks have therefore shaken the junta’s authority as much as they have heartened a cowed populace.

What began as a spontaneous protest against the doubling of fuel prices last month has become an open call for democratic elections, the release of all political prisoners and an end to the junta’s rule. At first, the army reacted with customary force, arresting those few people who dared to speak out. But when their cause was taken up by monks, the Government found itself severely embarrassed. Burma’s 400,000 monks command enormous public respect, and their threatened refusal to perform religious ceremonies for the regime caused considerable difficulty to a superstitious military leadership that has assiduously cultivated the senior clergy. The marches were therefore allowed to go ahead without being broken up, and for the first time in more than four years Ms Suu Kyi was allowed to make a public appearance to greet them.

Emboldened by their success, the demonstrations have grown and students and activists, setting aside memories of the last crackdown that cost an estimated 3,000 lives, have joined the columns of burgundy-robed monks marching through Rangoon, the crumbling former capital. The chants and prayers have given way to more politically explicit calls for national reconciliation and an improvement in the abysmal living standards for most of Burma’s 50 million people.

The junta faces a dilemma. The temptation will be to crack down hard on the protest, fearing that its authority is being underminded. If the rulers do order troops into action against the monks, however, they risk a bloody showdown that might not be supported by the armed forces and could provoke a serious rift in the ranks of the generals. The diplomatic damage would also be significant, with inevitable embarrassment for partner nations in the Association of SouthEast Asian Nations. And, crucially, the junta risks losing the support of China, which has systematically shielded the Government from international opprobrium and sanctions.

The outside world has little leverage over Burma’s generals. Calls for a tourism boycott have proved ineffectual. The West is reluctant to take further action against this pariah nation. The United Nations has given up trying to persuade the junta to hold elections. China, however, does wield huge influence. Burma is a key target in its global search for oil and raw materials, and Beijing has been quietly pushing for greater freedom to defuse accusations that it is supporting a tyranny. With the approaching Olympics, that accusation carries a greater sting. China must now tell the junta that it needs to negotiate with the protesters and begin a programme of necessary and long-delayed reforms.