Commentary | Nyi Nyi Kyaw, Myanmar’s Spring Revolution and Leadership Deficit
Introduction
The leadership of the Spring Revolution or National Unity Government (NUG) against the February 1, 2021 coup and continued military rule in Myanmar is often described as weak or ineffective. Many critics say this in public and in private, and their views are often reported and discussed within the Myanmar Facebooksphere. The opposition government is too crowded. Some of its cabinet members have not proven themselves. It needs focus and strategy. It should perform better and deliver more. It has a tendency to make unrealistic promises and an inability to keep them. In short, the NUG must reform itself sooner rather than later.
The opposition or revolutionary government is well aware of the criticism of its alleged shortcomings. In a viral Facebook post in late September 2024, Tu Hkawng, the NUG’s Minister of Natural Resources and Environmental Conservation, responded and asserted that they are all legitimate, effective, and necessary. Still, I think the criticism of the NUG is plausible. But if we want a revolutionary or post-revolutionary Myanmar to thrive as a democracy (or federal democracy), we need to analyze this problem of leadership deficit in the country’s politics more deeply, looking for structural roots and personality issues.
Precedent
What Myanmar had before the coup was another form of leadership deficit, ironically with a strong, dominant leader in power, Aung San Suu Kyi. She dominated Myanmar’s political scene from at least 1988 until the coup. Her power rose sharply when the National League for Democracy (NLD) party, which she led, won the 2015 elections and became the ruling party, but her and the NLD’s actual power over the military was generally limited in matters such as defense, home affairs, and border affairs. Despite her political stature and stardom, her rule was not without its own form of leadership deficit. She was mostly surrounded by people who were either intimidated by her stature, or afraid to question her, let alone challenge her, or both. In short, she was mostly in the company of yes-men.
This is not to say that Aung San Suu Kyi and the NLD did not have critics at home. Some people and independent media dared to question her involvement and/or complicity when minorities such as Muslims (especially Rohingya) and Rakhines and activists faced various forms of hard and soft repression, usually at the hands of the military. But her lack of power or leadership in this regard was largely made up for by the applause of millions of her supporters and fans whenever she faced such questions. To her supporters and fans, she is the most noble and magnanimous leader Myanmar has had in several decades. So her character is simply impeccable. Some more reasonable people saw her as partially complicit at times, and yet many of them defended her as at least a better person than commander-in-chief Min Aung Hlaing when faced a choice. In December 2019, when Myanmar was sued by The Gambia for genocide against the Rohingya at the International Court of Justice and she faced the litigants, she received tremendous sympathy and applause from various people including some religious leaders, her own NLD comrades and other supporters. She was portrayed as a courageous defender of the country, even though she played no role in what happened to the Rohingya in the first place and was simply not in a position to order the military to stop. The genocide trial and support for her was a symptom of the brand of Aung San Suu Kyi’s rule. Good (Aung San Suu Kyi) versus evil (the military) was the key narrative then. And the same narrative played out during the 2020 general election campaign.
This legacy of Aung San Suu Kyi’s rule has preconditioned the conduct or style of politics in the future. It must have two key features. The first is that no personality or personalist leader like Aung San Suu Kyi, especially if that figure belongs to the majority Bamar Buddhist community, should or must ever emerge or re-emerge. A corollary to this is that the leadership must therefore represent Myanmar’s ethnic (and perhaps religious) diversity. Second, any leadership must be a team or collective effort. No single leader should call all the shots. With all of this in mind, the NUG was formed in April 2021, a few months after the coup, as a unity government composed of cabinet members from across the political spectrum, including but not limited to activists, protest leaders, ethnic minority representatives, and ousted members of parliament. By November 2024, the NUG was more than three and a half years old.
What’s Wrong with the NUG?
Returning to the criticism of opposition politicians in general and the NUG in particular after the coup, it is admittedly sometimes questionable. Some criticisms are nothing more than diatribes and personal attacks, while others are motivated by schism and chauvinism. The rest stem from frustration with the status quo of the Spring Revolution, which the opposition or revolutionary government claims to lead and which will be four years old in February 2025. Notably, Myanmar social media users and some commentators sometimes praise the government. They remain largely popular, according to one survey. However, there is some truth in some of the criticism of the NUG. Nor is all criticism politically motivated, personal, and partisan. Some NUG insiders often privately admit their own or their colleagues’ weaknesses. So it is important to look at the situation and see where it is coming from. Rather than assess the who's who of the NUG, in this article I will focus on the bigger picture and look for answers in the country's political and civic culture and political structures.
Three factors may explain the general lack of solid political professionals in Myanmar. First, opposition politics in the country is an extremely dangerous and therefore sparsely populated profession. Second, politics is largely volunteer work, as there is little or no institutionalised party and organised politics, which the military dictatorship has allowed since the 1960s. Third, given the military’s (potential) repression of any dissent or resistance, politicians often have to talk big and make hollow promises, and end up becoming motivational speakers rather than realistic, shrewd actors.
The Field of Politics is Extremely Dangerous
Especially since the military coup in 1988, the field of opposition politics has become extremely dangerous. Many people, including young people, would not dare to enter it, even if they were politically enlightened and dissatisfied with military rule. Almost certainly doomed to be subjected to targeted surveillance and repression, and to spend long periods in prison, opposition requires a high dose of self-sacrifice and heroism. A significant part of the opposition would wither as it struggled and waited, patiently or impatiently, for the advent of democracy and civilian rule.
Many existing and future generations would bear witness to the high cost of opposition and its impact on themselves and their families, and usually decide not to enter the field. Even younger members of opposition political families would not follow in the footsteps of their elders. The field has thus shrunk. Young people, many of whom might have turned out to be solid strategic dissidents and politicians in the long run, find politics extremely risky and dangerous and therefore decide not to join it, instead focusing on their own lives and pursuing other careers.
There was indeed a political opening from 2011 or 2012 until the 2021 coup. Opposition politics became much less risky. But it was not a level playing field, with the military-backed Union Solidarity and Development Party and the National League for Democracy led by Aung San Suu Kyi dominating. Many young potential professional politicians not affiliated with the popular Aung San Suu Kyi-led party were disillusioned and instead became activists and civil society actors, often facing the wrath of the popular party and its “red” supporters.
Volunteerism is an Obstacle to Professionalism
Politics is by nature a voluntary activity. This is all the more true in the case of Myanmar, where there has been little institutionalised or organised electoral politics in the form of political parties. No one can force others to participate in politics, especially opposition politics, when it is extremely dangerous and risky. Opposition politicians, activists and dissidents therefore work on a voluntary basis. Because their work is voluntary, it is almost impossible to hold them accountable. They are already so heroic that ordinary people have no choice but to respect and applaud them.
Opposition politics in Myanmar is also a long durée with no end in sight. This can lead to a lack of continuity and sustainability. A few hundred people participated in and took leadership positions in one or more of the protests and movements against the military dictatorship in 1988 and throughout the 1990s and 2000s, but many have left the field for a variety of reasons, including sheer physical survival and safety, loss of faith, and the need to provide for themselves and their families. But how could we have asked them to stay? Their work was, after all, heroic volunteerism.
An unexpected side effect of volunteerism was seen in the 2010s after the relative opening of Myanmar’s politics. Driven by the urge to serve the people, and perhaps also by the need to be visible and relevant in Myanmar society, many (former) dissidents and activists seized every opportunity to engage in all forms of social and civil society work in addition to their usual political work. For example, many engaged in social work, known as parahita, a field that was understood to be reserved for community-based organisations, associations and networks. Wearing many heads at the same time, they seemed to have lost focus, resulting in weaker political professionalism.
Talking Big Often Loses Credibility
Revolutionary politics is largely about persuasion. In the context of Myanmar, such politics is very costly and risky, not only for the politicians themselves, but also for their supporters and followers. To attract the latter, who may not want to give their overt or covert support, especially if they are in Myanmar, the former often have no choice but to talk big. The opposition politicians of the Spring Revolution make promises, many of which turn out to be too big to be realistic and achievable.
The Spring Revolution is almost entirely dependent on material donations and various other forms of support from Myanmar people at home and abroad. Emotions run high during a revolution. It is therefore in the best interest of opposition politicians to sense these ups and downs and use them to market their cause and attract donors to the resistance. Based on my own digital research and ethnography since day one, I find that slogans, Facebook posts, revolutionary poetry, public meetings with Myanmar’s exile, diaspora, and migrant populations, and press conferences are among the platforms where opposition politicians tend to and have been most known to talk big.
Understandably, big, emotional talk is often natural. Sometimes it can even be said to be necessary. But when it becomes a habit, with little ability or chance to keep and fulfil those big promises, it becomes problematic and leads to a loss of credibility among supporters who are not partisan and begin to question the spoken and written behaviour of these politicians. A politician’s only job should not be that of a motivational speaker. Much of what these opposition politicians say and write is recorded. Their digital footprints are also everywhere. What they write on their Facebook walls, what they say to a group of the Myanmar diaspora in Australia, or what they promise in town halls, press conferences and official statements, will always resurface, and their promises have often been and will continue to be assessed and judged against their performance and delivery.
What Can be Done?
Can one train to be a professional politician? Courage, self-sacrifice and volunteerism are indeed essential, especially in the case of Myanmar’s high-risk, high-stakes opposition politics. But what about other skills such as strategic and critical thinking, cost-benefit analysis and effective public communication, which are no less, if not more, important? How much time does one need to invest in acquiring these skills? Can everyone acquire them? What kind of people are missing from Myanmar’s political world? All of these questions are very important to think about seriously if we want to have a better Myanmar for all now and in the future.
Nyi Nyi Kyaw is Marie Curie Research Fellow at the University of Bristol. He is also Honorary Fellow at the Peter McMullin Centre on Statelessness at Melbourne Law School. He was formerly Research Chair on Forced Displacement in Southeast Asia at Chiang Mai University.
To cite this essay, please use the bibliography entry provided below:
Nyi Nyi Kyaw, “Myanmar’s Spring Revolution and Leadership Deficit,” criticalasianstudies.org Commentary Board, December 17, 2024; https://doi.org/10.52698/PJGK5317.