When the military was overthrown in a coup in February 2021, it destroyed an emerging democracy and plunged the nation back into a period of fear. The Tatmadaw, or military, ousted the democratically elected administration and unleashed a campaign of terror that has reshaped the nation’s political and social landscape. For all those who learn about military regimes and rebellions of resistance, Myanmar today is a humbling lesson in authoritarianism, popular revolution, and the long way to justice.
The generals’ strategy for dominating the population has not been subtle. Civilians have been the target of a deliberate campaign of terror—entire villages raided with indiscriminate fire, houses burned, and suburbs bombed.
Survivors attest to torture, rape, and mass arrest. These are not the acts of lawless units but a policy of terror by design to instill fear and silence dissent. The model is easy to recognize: the Tatmadaw governs not with legitimacy but terror.
But still, there is resistance. In remote areas of Myanmar, ragtag groups of guerrillas and militias in villages—poorly equipped and short on resources—have not given up. Their struggle is a demonstration of the age-old tactics of guerrilla warfare: ambushes, sabotage, and hit-and-run raids that suck the life from a more potent foe.
In most areas, they have the support of civilians who are being forced to fight against an army fighting its own citizens. This asymmetrical war demonstrates an ancient aphorism throughout the ages: even the finest armies can be debilitated when citizens become mobilized against them.
Globally, attempts to hold individuals accountable have been sluggish and plagued with setbacks. The process has shut the nation off to external enquirers in a bid to stay concealed behind the veil of secrecy. International proceedings, however, continue to amass the evidence.
Researchers have worked tirelessly piecing together witness testimony from interviews, computer information, satellite images, and smuggled video in danger to themselves. All documents and all testimonies gathered are to the advantage of an effort to prevent the crimes not ending up in the books of oblivion.
The underlying philosophy that supports the work is simple but effective: war crimes and crimes against humanity are not time-bound. Regardless of how many years will go and pass, criminals can always be held accountable.
Having evidence readily available at this time assures that, when the politics for good do improve, trials can be expedited. This is what is now commonly accepted in world justice, with leaders and commanders-in-chief being held personally liable for crimes committed under their command.
To both audiences and military analysts, Myanmar is a humbling reminder of the risks of untempered power. It is also an affirmation of the international watchdog role, the power of evidence to enforce accountability, and the strength of ordinary human beings to stand against the exceptional cruelty.
The struggle for accountability remains, but the bricks laid today can one day give confidence that victims of this regime are not forgotten memory—and that the perpetrators don’t get away with their crimes forever.
