The article further explores the social landscape of Myanmar and how the introduction of democratic reforms impacted various social groups, highlighting the hopes and aspirations that blossomed alongside the anxieties and tensions inherent in such a transformative period. Ultimately, the article serves as a critical lens through which to understand the current turmoil gripping Myanmar. The 2021 military coup, which overturned the results of a landslide election won by Aung San Suu Kyi's National League for Democracy (NLD), was not an aberration. It was the inevitable culmination of a system rigged to favour the military and undermine the true will of the people. By understanding the cracks in the facade of Myanmar's democracy, we can gain a deeper perspective on the ongoing struggle for freedom and the challenges that lie ahead for this Southeast Asian nation.

Understanding the context of the coup requires a look at the country's transition towards democracy and the military's long-standing influence. In 2008, Myanmar adopted a new constitution, which was a pivotal step towards political reforms after decades of military rule. This constitution, however, was crafted under the military's guidance, ensuring that it retained substantial power. The first general elections under this new constitution were held in 2010. The NLD decided to boycott the election and as a result, the Union Solidarity and Development Party (USDP), secured a majority. The NLD re-entered the political fray in 2011 and participated in the 2012 by-elections, a move that marked a significant shift in Myanmar's political landscape. The party's overwhelming victory in these by-elections, winning 44 out of 45 seats it contested, signalled strong public support for democratic reform and opposition to military rule. This momentum continued into the 2015 general elections. And the 2020 elections reaffirmed the NLD's dominance and the public's desire for democratic governance, with the party again winning by a large margin.

The military responded to the NLD's 2020 victory by seizing power on February 1, 2021. Commander-in-Chief Min Aung Hlaing justified the coup by claiming electoral fraud and the need to safeguard the country's stability.

This claim was widely seen as a pretext for the military to maintain its political power and influence. Analysts suggested several motivations behind the military's actions. The 2008 constitution had created a delicate balance between civilian and military power, but the NLD's electoral success threatened this balance. Furthermore, personal ambitions of Min Aung Hlaing played a role. His tenure as Commander-in-Chief was nearing its end, and the coup provided a pathway for him to retain significant power and possibly avoid potential legal challenges or sanctions for past actions, including the military's alleged human rights abuses against the Rohingya minority and other ethnic groups. The military coup plunged Myanmar into a deep political and humanitarian crisis.

Since its independence, Myanmar has been under significant military influence, exerting control over political and economic resources. Despite a period of parliamentary democracy from 1948 to 1962, the military, under the leadership of General Ne Win, increasingly asserted control over the country. General Ne Win saw himself as the ultimate guardian of Myanmar's sovereignty and integrity. In 1958, a document titled “The National Ideology of the Defence Services” was released, outlining the military's dual roles in defence and socio-political spheres. This ideology laid the groundwork for the military's expanded role in governance. Ne Win further consolidated military control by establishing the Defence Services Institute (DSI), which began exerting influence over various economic sectors. DSI's takeover of businesses, including an English-owned bank (later renamed Ava Bank), a newspaper and a publishing house, marked the military's growing economic power.

Soon the military effectively became a powerful entity operating within the broader state structure, almost as if it were a separate, autonomous state itself. The military coups in 1962 and 1990 cemented the military's role as a dominant force in national politics and governance. The 2008 constitution institutionalised the military's power within Myanmar's political structure. Under Article 436, the military is allocated one-quarter of the seats in both the upper and lower houses of the national parliament and one-third in the state and regional parliaments. This arrangement gives the military effective veto power over constitutional amendments. The constitution also stipulates that the ministers of defence, home affairs, and border affairs must be military officers. Furthermore, Article 9 of the constitution established the National Defence and Security Council (NDSC), with the authority to impose martial law and directly rule the country after the president declares a state of emergency. The creation of the NDSC provides a legal pathway for the military to reassert direct rule over Myanmar.

Despite these political and economic reassertions, the general elections of 2015 and 2020, which were won by the NLD demonstrated the clear preference of the majority of Myanmar’s electorate for a civilian-led government. But the military's refusal to accept these results and its subsequent coup stand in stark contrast to the democratic principles as they deny the majority's right to self-determination and political participation. The struggle in Myanmar thus reflects a broader conflict between authoritarian control and the democratic aspirations of its people, a situation that challenges the core tenets of liberal democracy and individual freedom.

Beyond the traditional liberal concept of democracy, the idea of social democracy has emerged, particularly in highly capitalist societies, where it involves significant state intervention for income redistribution. In contrast, Myanmar's democratic development appears shallow, suggesting the need for a more inclusive democracy.

In the pre-colonial era, Burma was home to numerous ethnic groups, governed by Bamar leaders. But the Bamar rulers annexed the Kingdom of Arakan in 1785 and Karenni (present-day Kayah State), which both the Burmese court and the British acknowledged as independent entities. Later, the British, through the Panglong Agreement on February 12, 1947, effectively handed control of the country to the Bamar ethnic majority, despite assurances of a federal system made to minority leaders at the conference. At the time of independence, Aung San persuaded leaders of different ethnic groups to form a unified country. The new Burmese constitution of 1948 was solidified by the Panglong Agreement which was endorsed by every ethnic leader. However, Aung San's assassination, before the implementation of the Panglong Agreement, disrupted the unification process and led to a period of unrest and a weakened civilian government. To date, ethnic minorities in Myanmar have faced economic, social, and political exclusion and the Panglong Conferences have failed to meet the needs and demands of them.

Reflecting on Myanmar's nation-building, Myanmar's vibrant tapestry hides a deep fissure – a lack of unity among its diverse ethnic groups. The military, keenly aware of these fault lines, has long exploited them, playing one group against another to maintain its grip on power. The Bamar majority, constituting about 68% of the population, and various other ethnic groups have struggled to define and accept a common identity, leading to persistent

conflict and instability. A glaring manifestation of this disunity is the treatment of the Rohingya community, yet neither the military nor the democratic government under Aung San Suu Kyi adequately acknowledged or addressed the issue.

David I Steinberg, a distinguished professor emeritus of Asian studies at Georgetown University, raised the critical question of whether Myanmar should be considered a "failed state" or a "failed nation." He points out that the prevalent view of Myanmar as a failed state may be overshadowing an even more profound issue: the absence of a collective national identity among its population. Steinberg highlights that the essence of a national identity is rooted in emotional connection, shared beliefs, a common historical background, and a feeling of belonging and loyalty among individuals who see themselves as part of the same societal/geographical area. But Myanmar's diverse tapestry of ethnicities presents a formidable challenge to forging this shared identity. The Bamar majority's historical dominance has further complicated the landscape.

Steinberg's perspective urges us to move beyond facile labels and challenges us to ask: Can a shared sense of nationhood emerge despite historical fissures? What role can inclusive policies and dialogue play in bridging the divides? How can Myanmar resolve the historical struggle between military and democratically elected governments? Finding answers to these questions will be crucial in charting a path towards a more unified and peaceful future for Myanmar.

First, addressing historical grievances and fostering trust among ethnic groups by ensuring equal rights and representation for all. Second, promoting dialogue and developing a system of governance by empowering and granting autonomy to various ethnic groups within a federal system could address concerns of marginalisation and promote self-determination while still maintaining national unity. Finally, inclusive policies and genuine dialogue between key stakeholders is essential to address the current crisis.

A nation is not just a political entity but also a cultural, social, and psychological construct, which Myanmar has found challenging to develop across all societal sections. Now, a fragile hope emerges with the Committee Representing Pyidaungsu Hluttaw (CRPH) striving to bridge the divides. Their challenge is monumental. The immediate goal is the restoration of democratic forces. To achieve this, harnessing the collective power of a united population is crucial. However, true stability and prosperity lie beyond simply defeating the military. The long-term vision must be unwavering: Building an inclusive democracy that enshrines the rights of all.

This article is authored by Cchavi Vasisht, research associate, Centre for Neighbourhood Studies, Vivekananda International Foundation, New Delhi.