"Its democratic experiment appears short-lived."
From being a self-sacrificing “political saint” and the leading voice in her country’s struggle for human rights and democracy, Myanmar’s de facto civilian leader Aung San Suu Kyi came under fire for defending before the International Court of Justice the country’s military against allegations of genocide against the Rohingya minority.
Early on her term of office, the 1991 Nobel Peace Prize laureate was already being criticized not only for her government’s failure to fulfill promised economic and political reforms and the delay in the needed improvements in the delivery of social services, but also for alleged suppression of the freedom of expression.
Many of the countries that praised her fearless indignation during the fifteen years of house arrest felt that Daw Suu turned out to be a surprising grave disappointment. Her swift and dramatic fall from grace left her international reputation in tatters.
In response to her silence over the alleged military crackdown against the Rohingya, Canada stripped Daw Suu of her honorary citizenship. Several awards once granted to her were eventually revoked, the Freedom of the City from the City Councils of Oxford and Dublin, the Elie Wiesel Award from United States Holocaust Museum, and even the Ambassador of Conscience Award given by Amnesty International.
Despite her declining approval overseas, Daw Suu remained very popular in her country, with her leading the main opposition political party, the National League for Democracy in a decisive election win in November of last year.
But Myanmar’s democratic experiment appeared to be short-lived.
Days before the country’s Parliament was scheduled to convene, leading NLD members including Aung San Suu Kyi, President Win Myint as well as other elected members of Parliament were arrested by the military, after disputing and rejecting the results of the November 2020 elections to be fraudulent.
The country’s military leaders immediately imposed a year-long state of emergency, installing one of their own, Min Aung Hlaing, as de facto leader and stalling Myanmar’s uneasy transition to full democracy after decades of military rule, a move once applauded by the international community.
Despite rumors of a brewing coup already circulating for weeks, the military’s move apparently caught the international community by surprise. But the hard truth is that the world may have been played by Myanmar’s military generals and that the last ten years then could turn out to be part of a survival plan carefully crafted by Myanmar’s military.
Close to 50 years of ethnic strife and economic sanctions may have already crippled Myanmar’s economy, leaving the ruling junta with no choice but to agree to carry out political reforms.
In 2010, elections were held, and a year after, the military junta was dissolved. In its place, a nominally civilian government was installed.
Daw Suu and other political prisoners were released, allowing them to participate in the 2015 parliamentary elections where the leading opposition party won an overwhelming majority in both houses of the country’s Parliament.
But it was clearly a political accommodation that from the start was bound to fail.
The military retained their hold on to the powerful Ministries of Home Affairs, Defense and Border Affairs, critical Cabinet portfolios related to defense and security, in addition to the power to fill up a quarter of the seats of Parliament.
This left the civilian government with no power to undo the military’s grip on politics or even hold them accountable for their actions.
Despite being the uncontested party leader, a constitutional prohibition imposed on Myanmar citizens married to foreigners even prevented Daw Suu from being rightfully elected as president.
It could be the reason why Daw Suu found herself in no position to run head-on with the military. Her hands were tied by the constitutional provisions that were clearly meant to keep the military’s control over politics. She nevertheless hoped to work with whatever available political means towards the possibility of correcting an unjust system. But she frustratingly ended up with a disappointing devil’s gamble.
Daw Suu must have been optimistic that she could reform the country’s political system from within, but the failsafe provided by the Constitution drafted by the military junta in 2008 nipped in the bud all attempts for constitutional amendment.
Then political pragmatism must have come into play. The Rohingya were very unpopular among the country’s Buddhist majority, and with an election to win, Daw Suu could not risk the electorate’s displeasure.
In the meanwhile, despite having cunningly used Daw Suu as a shield from international criticism, the overwhelming electoral success of the National League for Democracy in the latest elections must have made the military establishment realize that she has become an even greater threat to their continuing political influence.
With the world’s attention focused on the global pandemic and Daw Suu’s weakened international prominence, not to mention that many old guards in the military leadership including Min Aung will be retiring in a few years, it was the perfect time for the military to act and for the troops to march in.
What is even more worrisome is that the international community took the military’s bait in questioning Daw Suu’s inaction over the Rohingya issue, resulting in the seemingly tepid global response to the crisis.
Recent events have disclosed the uneasy power play between the country’s military and the civilian government. This must be what Daw Suu repeatedly referred to as she appealed for more “understanding of the complexities of the situation” in her country – which was quickly dismissed by a world that was clearly misled into thinking that Daw Suu has already assumed full leadership of her country.
Without a civilian government to share power with, it now seems that the military’s political survival plan worked.
Barely a decade after winning back her freedom, not only is Daw Suu back in detention, but the future of Myanmar’s already fragile democracy has become even uncertain.
Much has changed, however, in the last ten years. Although wary of possible atrocities by the military, the people of Myanmar seem to be unwilling to easily let go of democracy. In fact, social media has become important platform for resistance, forcing the military to cut internet access and ban social media sites. But even the military are too careful not to upset the country’s economy, quickly assuring foreign investors in the days following the coup that social and economic stability will be an outmost priority.
In hindsight, it appears that Myanmar’s democratic experiment may seem to be part of the military’s plan to even solidify further its political power.
Disturbingly, the international community is complicit for putting the blame for the Rohingya squarely on Daw Suu and not on the military generals as they should, which in the end, eventually weakened Daw Suu’s international stature. The international community did little other than condemn the atrocities in the Rakhine region, when it could have been an opportunity for them to act together and help the country’s civilian government to stand up to the military and correct the infirmities in the country’s Constitution.
Had the world tried harder to understand how uncertain Daw Suu’s political position was – and allowed her to keep her strong global stature, staging a military coup would have been difficult, if not impossible and Myanmar would have remained a democracy.
In the end, the rest of the world is partly to be blamed for what happened in Myanmar. It cannot be denied that not only the military’s heedless action but the reckless arrogance of the international community as well that has placed Myanmar on a path towards a dangerous future.