Rolled razor wire featured in both: in the barricaded streets of Rangoon, where army and police had suppressed any possibility of more mass demonstrations against the Burmese regime, and atop the imposing perimeter fence at Faslane. The difference was that, while the large Scottish police presence monitored hundreds of protesters gathered to mark the end of a year-long vigil against the renewal of Trident, the worst fate that would befall those arrested was a court appearance and a fine.

In Burma, thousands of monks remain imprisoned. These two events, falling in the same week, raise a host of questions about the nature and effectiveness of political protest. Undoubtedly, the preponderance of monks involved in the mass uprising in Burma gave their cri de coeur added moral legitimacy, while the young, robed Buddhists and the young, uniformed military offered a particularly potent visual counterpoint to the watching world. But, ultimately, all the world did do was watch.

There were stirring speeches of remonstration, and the dispatch of a solitary UN envoy to hang around in antechambers until finally ushered into the presence of anyone who really mattered. Not a tactic likely to shock or awe the famously reclusive generals. The much-rehearsed doctrine of "humanitarian intervention" is a highly selective one, as victims of government-backed violence from Rwanda to Sudan and Zimbabwe can testify.

It would be easy to dismiss the 365 days of demonstrations against the Trident nuclear programme and its proposed renewal as self-indulgent and trivial set alongside the tragedies being played out in many other parts of the world. And such was the level of local hostility in some quarters to the Faslane blockades that a rival group of parents and residents protesting against disruption set up their own vocal campaign. Letters in the local papers seethed with indignation about problems faced by commuters and health visitors, and local councillors fulminated about the estimated £6m cost of policing the exercise.

You also require to factor into the mix the fact that the bases at Faslane and Coulport are long-standing sources of employment, not just to naval personnel, but local trades' support services.

Many of the people involved in the Trident demos were acutely aware their activities would engender a high level of irritation. Their perspective was that, in the greater, global scheme of things, ensuring the debate over Trident remained vocal and visible was a higher priority. And such was the variety of the 365-day presence - from church services and choirs to international academics, pensioners and visits from hundreds of like-minded people from all over the world determined to add their voice, however briefly - that a sizeable amount of publicity was generated.

How much will it matter? A pessimist might conclude that if the biggest demonstration in living memory can fail to prevent a government going to war in Iraq, then what impact might disparate, smallish groups of people have on nuclear defence policy? When you live in the area, that is a conundrum with which you wrestle all the time. As well as locals furious with the demonstrations, there are others who have devoted an inordinate amount of time and energy to supporting them.

Their view, which I share, is that the question of Trident is of overriding importance because of a number of factors, only one of which is the tens of billions it would carve out of future defence budgets. It is of little comfort to hear governments intone about parliamentary debates and consultation when it has long been apparent that the MoD facility at Aldermaston is already engaged on researching a new generation of weaponry. To put it at its most generous, that implies a succession of Defence Secretaries has knowingly misled the public. It is of even less comfort to reflect that Trident, now and in any future incarnation, is locked into American technological and political support.

But there is an even bigger issue involved in terms of being signatories to a non-proliferation agreement. This obliges us to seek every means possible to scale down existing nuclear capabilities, while not engaging in building capacity with even more devastating potency. What moral high ground can we occupy as we attempt to prevent a nuclear capability in Iran or North Korea if we join the enthusiasts in America's military-industrial complex in creating ever more ghastly means of mass destruction? Will a year-long campaign sustained by headlines, some of them negative, impact at all on British defence policy? Maybe not. But it won't harm the existing majority opposition to Trident at Holyrood.

Will the monks have provided a tipping point in Burmese politics? Maybe not. But in both cases the alternative is silent acquiescence to unnecessary evil and that's no alternative at all.