Myanmar has a history of great suffering, bitter struggle, and a nation that will not relinquish. From liberation from British colonial rule in 1948, Myanmar has been embroiled in a war that never ends between a military that will not yield and people who merely desire the opportunity to craft their destiny. At its heart is Myanmar’s military, the Tatmadaw, which has gripped the country for decades with such bitter scars on almost every aspect of the country’s life.
Things quickly fell apart after independence was gained. In 1962, General Ne Win seized power in a coup, putting an end to a short and fragile democratic interlude. His regime shut the nation off, nationalized the industries, and forced a draconian type of socialism that drove Myanmar to poverty and isolation.
Corruption increased, the economy imploded, and daily existence became a struggle. In 1988, when citizens marched into the streets calling for change, the military reacted with savage brutality. Thousands died. Hope was stifled—but not eliminated.
The generals attempted to cover up their domination by cosmetic reforms. They renamed the nation Myanmar, relocated the capital to Nay Pyi Taw, and drafted a new constitution in 2008. But secretly, they maintained a strong hold, retaining seats in parliament, keeping key ministries, and ensuring no government could ever really go against them.
Even after Nobel laureate Aung San Suu Kyi and her party, the NLD, had won parliamentary elections in a landslide, the military remained in control from behind the scenes.
Then the 2021 coup. After they were trounced in the 2020 election, the military, under Senior General Min Aung Hlaing, accused fraud and seized power through violence. Civilian leaders were imprisoned, including Suu Kyi. But this time, the citizens didn’t only weep—they retaliated. Physicians, nurses, educators, and laborers everywhere boycotted the regime. Streets were choked with nonviolent protesters. A strong civil disobedience campaign started taking form.
Then came a turning point. Former members of parliament, pro-democracy activists, and ethnic leaders joined together to establish the National Unity Government (NUG), an opposition government fighting the junta.
They didn’t protest—they announced a full-blown resistance. The NUG established its military unit, the People’s Defence Force (PDF), and vowed to fight for a democratic future. No longer about politics—it was now a fight for survival.
The military’s response? Brute force. Entire villages were set ablaze. Demonstrators were shot in the cold blood. Doctors, journalists, and civilians were detained or murdered. Families were separated. And yet, the resistance never wavered. The Tatmadaw, with all its might and arms, was not able to dominate the nation fully. Combat spilled from urban streets to distant hills and jungles. The people, shattered but not broken, continued to move forward.
Myanmar’s future is uncertain. The hurt is real, the terror is oppressive, and the price of resistance is steep. But something is different. The people are tired of being quiet. They have witnessed too much, lost too much, and waited too long.
They are standing together—across differences in background, beliefs, and borders—with a common message: this is their nation, and they will not have it led by fear anymore. The journey is a long way ahead, but hope is no longer a whisper. It’s a roar.