THEN, AS now, the only colour on the streets that mattered was orange. Then, as now, a beleaguered people were making a stand for their democratic rights. Then, as now, the forces of repression were only a street or so away. Today it's happening in Rangoon, where saffron-clothed monks have emerged as their country's conscience. Three years ago, it was happening in Kiev as Ukrainians made their dramatic bid to turn the "orange revolution" into a reality.

It's too early to say which way the "saffron revolution" will go but we all know where the Ukrainian variety has gone. Since the heady days of 2004 it's been pretty much downhill all the way. Today, the people of Ukraine go to the polls once more in a bid to reclaim the spirit of the orange revolution, when the Western-leaning parties led by Viktor Yushchenko and Yulia Tymoshenko seemed to be carrying all before them and everything was for the best in the best of all possible worlds. They were indeed heady days: orange became the colour of hope while the blue of Viktor Yanukovich's Party of Regions was a nasty blast from the past, the habitation of Moscow's stool pigeons.

Dirty tricks abounded, violence hovered in the cold winter air and voter fraud was commonplace. But in spite of those drawbacks the orange revolution seemed to make sense. It was a beacon of hope at a time when the world was cynical about the benefits of regime change and downright hostile to the notion of unilateral interference in the affairs of other countries.

Unlike the "Prague spring" of 1968 in the depths of the cold war - when the Czechs tried to embrace democracy only to be crushed by Soviet tanks - it showed that Moscow was not all-powerful, that it was possible to live by some other order than the ancient hegemony exercised first by the Russian empire and then by the Soviet Union. Ahead lay the promise of free-market reforms and membership of Nato and the European Union: for the first time in many generations Ukrainians stopped dreaming and dared to believe that things could be different.

Alas and alack for those of us who believe change is inevitable if people combine in common cause. The orange revolution proved to be nothing of the sort. Like so many other breakthroughs it was a dead end. Within months, the orange coalition was unravelling. No sooner had Yushchenko achieved his ambition of claiming the presidency than he fell out with the fiery Tymoshenko and promptly fired her from her role as prime minister. Just as a half-decent striker will note any hesitation in a defensive wall, Yanukovich took advantage of the unexpected lapse and pushed himself back into power. Suddenly orange had been bested by blue and Ukraine was plunged into a new and debilitating round of political squabbling.

It got worse. Corruption, the cancer of the soul in far too many former Soviet satellites, has resurfaced, with half of the population complaining that they have to offer bribes to make sure any public facilities come their way. There is also concern that today's elections have already been tainted by widespread cheating and poll-rigging and that there's no way they can be considered free and fair. In the eastern Kharkov region, worrying evidence has surfaced to reveal the names of over 100,000 non-existent voters. If those figures are at all representative of the rest of the country, jobbery on that scale could have a decisive effect on an election that does not need to be any tighter.

No-one needs reminding that the vote will go to the wire and that there is likely to be a division of the spoils with Tymoshenko in the orange corner and Yanukovich in the blue. Both will then be left to scrabble together a workable coalition, probably with Yushchenko's Our Ukraine Party, but such an arrangement could leave the president badly exposed, as neither Tymoshenko nor Yanukovich has much time for him. Yushchenko is due to fight an election in two years' time but a hung parliament could bring the date forward and force another vote on the poll-weary Ukrainians.

Once again, as happened in 2004, Kiev's central Maidan Square is awash with tents and flags as voters camp out in an attempt to recreate the spirit of change. It looks hopeful, the scene is colourful and invigorating but there's also a sense of desperation in the air. As the Ukrainians have found, and as the people of Burma might soon discover to their cost, intoxicating colours do not make a revolution. It requires the steel in the soul displayed by the Buddhist monks.

Burma hovers on the cusp; Ukraine is being given a second chance to get it right. Somewhere between the two, dreams might just become reality.