Five years after seizing power from the elected government of Aung San Suu Kyi, Myanmar’s coup leader, General Min Aung Hlaing, has finally made good on a long delayed promise, at least on paper, according to BBC News.
The country’s new parliament has chosen him as president, marking what he calls a return to “civilian rule.” Yet for most in Myanmar, it feels like an illusion, a change of clothing rather than of power.
The new parliament, meeting for the first time since 2021, is stacked with loyalists. The constitution guarantees the military one quarter of the seats, and the army-backed Union Solidarity and Development Party (USDP) swept nearly 80% of the rest in what observers describe as a highly controlled and lopsided election. The result was never in doubt more coronation than contest.
Before taking the post, Min Aung Hlaing formally resigned as commander of the armed forces, handing the position to his close ally General Ye Win Oo, a hardliner known for ruthless tactics. He also established a new “consultative council” that will retain supreme influence over both civilian and military affairs. Despite shedding his uniform, the general seems determined not to shed his grip on power.
For Kyaw Win, a young activist who protested the 2021 coup, the moment brings no relief. Arrested during a flash protest, he remembers being beaten, burned, and tortured during a week-long interrogation before being imprisoned. Now free, he says he no longer believes in quick change. “They tried to break me,” he recalls quietly. “But I still believe in our revolution. even if from afar.” Like many, he plans to leave Myanmar in search of safety and work.
Since the coup, the country has plunged into a brutal civil war and economic collapse. Min Aung Hlaing’s decision to seize power in 2021, just as Aung San Suu Kyi’s National League for Democracy was preparing to start another term, ignited public fury and nationwide resistance. The army’s violent crackdown turned peaceful protests into an armed uprising.
Now, thousands are dead, millions displaced, and the once-vibrant economy is in tatters.
The military controls only fragments of the country. Resistance groups hold dozens of towns, particularly near the borders. The junta has hit back with escalating air raids on resistance-held areas — schools, homes, and hospitals reduced to rubble in its “four cuts” strategy: cutting food, funds, recruits, and information from rebel zones. With help from Russia and China, the regime has reclaimed some ground but at enormous human cost.
At his final Armed Forces Day parade, Min Aung Hlaing showed no hint of regret. In his speech, he repeated old claims that the army was acting under its constitutional duty to preserve national unity. Those fighting the military, he declared, were “terrorists” backed by “foreign aggressors.” Nothing in his tone suggested any shift in the way Myanmar will now be ruled.
Analysts and rebels alike expect the conflict to continue. “The new commander is his loyalist,” says Su Mon, a conflict researcher at ACLED. “Expect more air strikes, more scorched-earth campaigns, and more suffering.”
The National Unity Government (NUG), made up of ousted ministers and opposition groups, has denounced the new government as illegitimate. It vows to keep fighting for a truly federal and democratic constitution. “This is not the time to compromise,” says Nay Phone Latt, an NUG spokesman. “If we give up now, another generation will live under fear.”
Meanwhile, ordinary people face an increasingly desperate existence. The UN estimates that more than 16 million citizens now depend on humanitarian aid, and four million have fled their homes. Inflation has soared, wages have vanished, and fuel shortages, worsened by regional conflicts, have crippled industry.
In Yangon, taxi driver Tin Oo shakes his head as he queues for rationed petrol. “If you work honestly, you suffer,” he says. “If you cheat, you survive.”
But amid the bleakness, a handful of voices still call for peace. Veteran activist Mya Aye, who has spent much of his life in prison, urges dialogue between the military and its opponents. He warns that the country is already collapsing. “This election is not the answer,” he says. “But without compromise, Myanmar will break apart.”
Some whisper that Aung San Suu Kyi, now 80 and still imprisoned, might be released later this year, perhaps as part of Min Aung Hlaing’s attempt to secure legitimacy. Whether she could mediate a way out of the crisis remains uncertain.
For now, Myanmar stands trapped between a failed promise of democracy and the unyielding persistence of military power, a nation still at war with itself.
