Myanmar: The morning after

After leading her party, the National League for Democracy, to a resounding victory in Myanmar's historic November elections, Aung San Suu Kyi is now confronted with the more formidable challenge of negotiating the treacherous terrain to civilian rule. Tom Fawthrop considers the difficulties ahead.

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CHEERING multitudes engulfed the streets of Yangon and many other towns. To the surprise of many, the election was relatively free and fair. Nobel laureate Aung San Suu Kyi had led her party, the National League for Democracy (NLD), to a crushing victory over the ruling Union Solidarity and Development Party (USDP), a party created by the military junta that ruled Myanmar from 1962 to 2011.

Nobody should have doubted the resilience of the Myanmarese people, who have seen their democratic hopes dashed so many times. In 1988 a 'People Power uprising' peacefully took over the capital for a few days but was later mowed down with bullets by the military. In the 1990 elections, when the opposition won some 80% of all seats, the military simply ignored the results and jailed many of the new parliamentarians. In 2007 the 'Saffron uprising' led by Buddhist monks defied the military and was ruthlessly put down, with many monks jailed, tortured or killed.

One extraordinary example of the Myanmarese passion for democratic rights was the case, reported by The Irrawaddy magazine, of a 94-year-old man who fell gravely ill just prior to the recent election. 'He was taken to hospital. He was unconscious and rushed to intensive care. Luckily, he regained consciousness and, as soon as he opened his eyes, he told relatives he still wanted to vote. His family rushed to organise it and he voted for the NLD.'

His vote counted and contributed to the final election tally, which saw the NLD winning a stunning 77% of seats contested. The ruling, military-aligned USDP led by outgoing president and retired general Thein Sein garnered only 10% of the elected seats. (In addition, the military has a reserved bloc of seats that make up 25% of the total parliamentary seats.)

Most of the ruling party's candidates were retired generals and colonels and many were shocked by the results. They had splashed money and enticements on the voters. They had expected to make it to parliament, with some in line for ministerial jobs. As it turned out, many rural people had kept their voting intentions secret to avoid intimidation.

Although the military leaders have since 2011 adopted a softer, reformist image in order to get Western sanctions lifted, the electorate clearly saw the vote as a referendum on military rule over five decades. The people have delivered a damning verdict on the past, with great expectations for the future. They expect that the charismatic Aung San Suu Kyi will somehow bring about a better life for a nation so rich in natural resources but so poor in education, health and living standards for the vast majority.  

A reality check

Far from the cheering crowds in downtown Yangon, the euphoric fever of democracy in the air and the sweeping triumph over military-backed candidates, however, an ugly reality tainted this election and provided an ominous portent of the shape of things to come in a country where military power remains deeply entrenched.

While the armed forces did not directly interfere with the election process in most polling places, in the more remote Shan state in the mountainous north, no election took place. The army launched a dry season offensive against the ethnic Shan State Army - North with aerial attacks in spite of the ongoing peace process and the general election. This was a flagrant violation of the military's pledge to respect the election process.

Some 40% of Myanmar's population is made up of ethnic groups who comprise the majority of citizens in Shan, Kachin and Karen states. Rebel armies have been resisting army suppression ever since the 1962 military coup and demanding a federal-style democratic state.

The jubilant voters in Yangon, Mandalay and most of the country probably had no idea that in the faraway north, Shan township Mong Nawng and its 6,000 inhabitants were subjected to shelling. It was scarcely reported in the country's media. But it was a timely reminder for ethnic groups that if President Thein Sein could not control the military, what chance will Aung San Suu Kyi's new government have of clipping its wings and restoring a semblance of civilian authority over the armed forces?

The election was also held amid a climate of anti-Muslim prejudice. Members of the predominantly Muslim Rohingya community were mostly barred from voting as they were not considered full citizens. Many Muslim candidates were disqualified by the election commission on dubious grounds; of those who were allowed to stand, none got elected. The blatant discrimination against 5% of the population was not challenged by the NLD, which quietly dropped its would-be Muslim candidates.

Military power and what the NLD is up against

In spite of the stunning electoral defeat for the ruling party, the military has a formidable second line of defence: the 2008 constitution crafted and drafted by the military junta, with a series of clauses that guarantee the armed forces supremacy over any elected government and parliament.

One clause blocks The Lady - as NLD leader Suu Kyi is popularly known - from becoming president, on the grounds that she was married to a British citizen and has two sons with British passports.

The most powerful bureaucracies - home affairs, border affairs and military affairs - will remain under military control, and the armed forces budget will remain above civilian scrutiny, regardless of which party controls the government.

Paul Chambers, a Chiang Mai University expert on the military in South-East Asia, observed, 'This will now become a power-sharing arrangement but the NLD government will be a superficial entity, the military will have control over its own affairs, insulated from any civilian intrusions whatsoever.'

This means that when the NLD establishes a government in 2016, it will be some kind of hybrid creature, with the new ministers from the democratic forces held in check by a cabinet that will include three Trojan horses in the ministries of defence, home affairs and border and immigration, all run by the military.

It is widely expected that the generals will resist any effort to curb military spending - estimated at about 40% of Myanmar's total budget - or loosen the military establishment's grip on their lucrative chunk of the economy.

The military also expects to insulate from any attempt at civilian control, decision-making and ultimate authority over government efforts to make peace with ethnic rebel groups waging long-running struggles for autonomy and ethnic rights.

Suu Kyi speaks of cooperation with the military and reconciliation with her enemies. But she will be dealing with the same generals who were humiliated after the 1990 elections, proceeded to ignore the landslide win for the opposition and jailed many of the new MPs. The Lady herself was subjected to 15 years of house arrest.

The military does not need to carry out another crude putsch to cling on to power this time around. Instead they can use the 2008 constitution as a fig leaf of dubious legality to keep themselves in the driving seat, while paying lip service to the opposition's triumph at the ballot box.

The constitution is designed to be impregnable to change without the military's consent. A quarter of seats in parliament are reserved for military officers, when more than 75% of votes in the legislature are needed to approve amendments to the constitution. A vaguely worded clause also empowers the military to reimpose military rule if it judges the country to be on the verge of disorder. 'It's a coup mechanism in waiting,' according to Phil Robertson, the deputy director of Human Rights Watch's Asia division.

Is Myanmar firmly on a transition to democracy in 2016?

The Myanmarese military, growing weary of Western sanctions and pariah status in the world, clearly navigated a change of course and strategy to stay in power with the appointment of retired general Thein Sein as president in 2011.

Many political prisoners were released, press freedom was pledged and a new media flourished. Myanmar started a dialogue with Western governments, the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund (IMF), and moved out of its previous orbit of China and Asean dependency.

Hotels have been deluged with Western businessmen and corporations eyeing a new frontier for investment and profit. Tourism has flourished.

And now more or less free and fair elections have taken place under the watchful eye of hundreds of international election observers.

This narrative has created a school of observers who believe the changes in Myanmar are irreversible and that democracy is surely on the way.

Nicholas Farrelly, director of the Myanmar Research Centre at the Australian National University and co-founder of the New Mandala website, commented in upbeat terms: 'A government elected by the people has a much better chance of writing a new chapter in the country's history. That chapter starts right now, as people wake to the realisation that the old order has been replaced by something new, yet tentative and ready for creative contributions.'

That the old order has been reshaped and decorated with the trappings and appearances of democracy is clear, but other observers would hotly dispute that this adds up to the claim that 'the old order has been replaced'.

By comparison, the break with the old order was far more decisive in the Philippines after Marcos fled the country, and in Indonesia when Suharto was forced to resign (see box). In both cases grassroots mobilisation inflicted decisive defeats on their regimes, which has definitely not occurred in the case of Myanmar.

Paul Chambers argues that the military order and domination over politics and security remain completely intact in spite of the landslide vote at the ballot box. 'There are many tactics.Time is on the Tatmadaw's [military] side in all of this.If the economy tanks or civilian administration is criticised in any way, then the Tatmadaw-USDP can make gains. But again, the constitution is still favouring the longevity of power for the military as well as their insulation from civilian supremacy.'

Aung San Suu Kyi knows full well that she has no choice but to cooperate with the unelected military bloc inside parliament and has little chance of enacting any legislation and reforms without some tacit agreement with the army chief. Pitted against the highly organised military, The Lady is armed with a huge mandate, but minimal resources to back up her dream of bringing back democracy.

The NLD would be scarcely recognised outside the country as a political party. It lacks a credible team of advisers and deputies to Suu Kyi. It lacks policy agendas, an organisational apparatus or an ideology. It is held together by hostility to the regime and pop-star attachment to Suu Kyi. Inside the party a broad church of views and debate have been strongly discouraged by her autocratic style. Opposition critics have been swiftly purged.

Suu Kyi's supporters expect so much from her new administration, but relatively few fully grasp the mammoth scale of the task ahead in a country lacking a strong educated and well-trained middle class.

If Suu Kyi and the NLD government are thwarted by the military and unable  to  bring  about  benefits  for the  landless  poor  and  millions  of unemployed  and  address  a  host  of other problems, the military, the USDP and their business partners may have a second chance at the ballot box, and sooner than expected. In such uncharted territory, it is a highly optimistic act of faith to talk about an irreversible transition away from military rule.                                       

Tom Fawthrop, a specialist in South-East Asia, has reported on Myanmar under the rule of the military junta and the changes underway since, as well as the Indonesian military occupation of East Timor prior to independence. He is also the director of the new film Saving the Salween documenting the opposition of ethnic groups to a vast hydropower dam programme along one of South-East Asia's longest rivers that provides sustenance and livelihoods to almost 10 million people. His stories have been published by, among others, the Melbourne Age, The Economist, DPA news agency and the South China Morning Post.

*Third World Resurgence No. 303/304, November/December 2015, pp 48-50