YANGON, MYANMAR - The monk's hate-filled speeches have become a part of life in Myanmar. His fringe movement has moved into the mainstream. And now he has a new target: the once-untouchable Aung San Suu Kyi, who he says has failed to stand up against the threat he says Muslims pose to this country and its Buddhist values.
The comments by Ashin Wirathu highlight the rising role Buddhist nationalism is playing as the country heads into general elections Sunday.
The issue has helped shape who can vote, who can run and, quite possibly, what form the new government will take.
Though Suu Kyi's opposition party is still viewed as the favorite - tens of thousands turned out for a rally in the former capital Yangon over the weekend - analysts say the "race and religion'' card could hurt her in rural, conservative areas.
"Rightly or wrongly, Suu Kyi has been painted as being on the wrong side of the (Muslim) issue,'' said Richard Horsey, an independent analyst. "That could affect the proportion of the popular vote the National League for Democracy gets in some regions.''
"Will it be enough to tip the ruling party across the finish line in those constituencies? That's still very unclear.''
The predominantly Buddhist nation of 50 million started transitioning from dictatorship toward democracy in 2011, putting in place a nominally civilian government that won widespread international praise for quickly implementing political and economic reforms, many of which have since stalled or started rolling back.
Wirathu and his radical Buddhist nationalist fringe, 969, took advantage of newfound freedoms of expression to fan prejudices against the long-persecuted Rohingya Muslim minority. His hate-filled sermons helped incite violence that began in 2012, leaving hundreds dead and sending a quarter-million others fleeing their homes.
With little or no pushback from the government or society - the large silent majority helped served as an incubator - 969 morphed into a more palatable, politically powerful organization that today boasts millions of supporters, including moderate monks and members of the ruling elite.
Wirathu, who previously referred to Muslims as "mad dogs'' and "vermin,'' has toned down his language. He also plays a less public role in the group, now known by its Burmese acronym, Ma Ba Tha. Its members say the organization is peaceful and was created in part to help end the violence.
The influence of Buddhist nationalists on politics, however, is undeniable.
For the first time, the country's 1.3 million Rohingya are not allowed to vote or run for seats in Parliament, including sitting lawmakers.
"This election, which has been touted as historic for its potential to be the freest and fairest in over two decades, could have been a breakthrough for democracy in Myanmar,'' Shwe Maung, a Rohingya member of Parliament barred from seeking another term, wrote in a column published Tuesday in "Instead it is poised to institutionalize and entrench the longstanding persecution of minorities.''
The ruling Union Solidarity and Development Party and the NLD have refused to field any Muslim candidates, presumably because they fear a backlash at the polls. There are dozens of smaller parties, some representing ethnic minorities living in border regions, and others largely proxies of the military-backed government.
Despite her popularity, even Suu Kyi is fair game.
"I was crazy about her, too, but now I know we can't trust her,'' said Wirathu, rattling off a list of actions he considers suspicious, including her refusal to take sides during the first wave of sectarian violence, which killed Buddhists as well as Muslims.
Conversely, Human Rights Watch and other rights groups have criticized Suu Kyi for staying silent on the plight of Rohingya. She told Indian TV last month she wanted to reconcile the two communities, not add to the divisions.
The international community has expressed concern that the rise of Buddhist nationalism, and especially hate speech, is undermining Myanmar's democratic process.
Rather than push through key laws needed to spur the economy, the outgoing legislature spent its final months working on passage of four Ma Ba Tha-drafted "race and religion'' laws that were widely criticized by the U.S. and others because they could be used to discriminate against Muslims, women and other minorities.