By Michael Hart
When Aung San Suu Kyi was propelled to high office via a landslide
election victory in November 2015, she vowed to make ending Myanmar’s
decades-old internal strife a top priority of her government. Yet three
years on, the initial outpouring of hope and optimism around the world
after the ascent to power of Suu Kyi’s National League for Democracy
(NLD) has been replaced with rising condemnation of the brutal Rohingya
crackdown and alleged army abuses in the northern states of Kachin and
Shan.
While the quasi-civilian administration led by Suu Kyi has failed to
condemn the actions of Myanmar’s still-dominant armed forces, known as
the Tatmadaw, the former global human rights
icon has pushed forward with a government peace initiative designed to
end a myriad of long-running ethnic conflicts which have blighted the
country’s remote borderlands for seventy years. And though talks first
began under the former military regime, Suu Kyi attended the latest
rounds of dialogue held in July and October 2018.
Yet despite repeated sets of negotiations, the peace process has
stalled amid escalating violence on the ground. Suu Kyi’s strategy is
centred on persuading more rebel groups to join the existing Nationwide
Ceasefire Agreement (NCA), originally signed by eight groups the month before her election in 2015. A further two signed in February,
yet the country’s most powerful militias are refusing to join the
accord while talks remain deadlocked over key security matters and the
central issue of devolving political powers.
Can Aung San Suu Kyi break the impasse in Myanmar’s fractured peace
process? Or will the continued dominance of the military and mistrust of
the army among ethnic leaders stand in the way of peace?
Myanmar’s decades-old internal ethnic conflicts
Myanmar’s raging civil conflicts date back to before the country’s
independence from Britain in 1948. Prior to independence, in February
1947 ethnic leaders from Chin, Kachin and Shan states signed the
Panglong Agreement with Myanmar’s leader at the time, General Aung San –
Suu Kyi’s father. The deal promised autonomy and self-determination for
ethnic groups after the creation of Burma. Aung San was assassinated by
political opponents later that year and his commitment was not honored
by the nation’s post-independence rulers, sparking the formation of
ethnic armies set on securing autonomy.
Insurgencies have persisted for much of the past seven decades in the
states of Rakhine, Chin, Kachin, Shan, Kayin and Mon. Various armed
insurgent groups have fought government troops, driven by core
grievances centered on the political control of territory, rights for
ethnic minorities and access to natural resource revenues. Most fighting
has occurred in isolated and inaccessible border areas far from the
center of state power in Naypyidaw. The uprisings have proven resistant
to resolution, having persisted through the 26-year dictatorship of Ne
Win and successive military regimes which followed. Previous ceasefires
have been negotiated with individual armed groups, yet all have been
broken and peace has rarely held for long. The most enduring was in
Kachin state, where a 1994 ceasefire quelled fighting with the Kachin
Independence Army (KIA) for 17 years until hostilities resumed six years ago.
Aung San Suu Kyi’s attempt to reboot the peace process
The government’s approach to conflict resolution widened in 2011 when
reformist military ruler Thein Sein initiated a national-level peace
dialogue for the first time under army rule. Negotiations led to a Nationwide Ceasefire Agreement (NCA)
signed in October 2015, just a month before Suu Kyi’s historic election
win. Yet only eight of 15 groups involved in discussions put pen to
paper. Some of Myanmar’s largest and most influential insurgent groups –
including the 10,000-strong KIA and the 25,000-strong United Wa State
Army (UWSA) – refused to sign the deal due to the Tatmadaw’s exclusion
of smaller allied rebel organizations, such as the Ta’ang National
Liberation Army (TNLA), from the peace process.
A month later, Aung San Suu Kyi’s NLD swept to power
having secured a high proportion of the ethnic minority vote. Despite
being barred from the presidency by a constitutional clause, Suu Kyi,
with the title of State Counsellor and as the nation’s de-facto ruler,
vowed to pursue a lasting peace settlement.
Under the weight of high expectations, Suu Kyi has since sought to
foster continual dialogue, reviving the spirit of her father’s peace
drive of the 1940s via the holding a series of 21st Century Panglong Peace Conferences.
Yet the military – which retains decision-making control over internal
security matters and for which one-third of parliamentary seats are
reserved – has maintained its central role in the talks, which are
designed to build upon the 2015 NCA deal. Despite two more insurgent
groups signing up in February, progress has been slower than hoped and
delays have occurred. Suu Kyi planned to hold Panglong conferences every
six months, yet to-date only three have taken place since she took
power. Loose agreements have been reached on principles
covering politics, economics, the environment, and social issues, but
the agenda has been vague and core drivers of the conflict have yet to
be discussed.
A stalling peace process amid escalating violence on the ground
The three rounds of talks hosted by Suu Kyi so far, in August 2016,
May 2017 and July 2018, have been held against a backdrop of rising
violence on the ground and unchecked abuses by the Tatmadaw. In Rakhine
state, the army has responded to attacks on border posts
by Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army (ARSA) militants by launching a
wide-ranging crackdown on Rohingya villages. The UN and a multitude of human rights organizations have accused troops
of burning villages, raping women and deliberately killing civilians.
Some have even gone so far as to label the military’s campaign as ‘genocide’ or ‘ethnic cleansing’, while Suu Kyi has faced strong criticism from Western leaders for her failure to speak out. Suu Kyi insists the army have only targeted ‘terrorists’ in clearing operations. Over 700,000 Rohingya have fled across the border to seek refuge in neighboring Bangladesh since violence erupted in 2017.
Meanwhile in 2018, fighting has intensified in the northeastern
states of Kachin and Shan, along the border with China. In Kachin, clashes between the government and ethnic rebels
have centered on the townships of Hpakant, Injangyang, Sumprabum,
Tanaing and Waingmaw, while in excess of 100,000 people have been
displaced in the state since 2011. Human rights
groups have accused the Tatmadaw of adopting heavy-handed tactics and
employing a ‘scorched earth’ policy in conflict-affected regions.
A UN report
in March documented ‘credible reports of indiscriminate and
disproportionate attacks, extrajudicial killings, enforced
disappearances, torture, rape and other forms of sexual violence’ at the
hands of the army in Kachin. Human Rights Watch has warned of a ‘dire humanitarian situation’ in the state. The Tatmadaw denies all allegations of abuses, and maintains it only targets armed insurgents.
Why is the peace process failing, and can it be revived?
Amid rising violence, the third round of the Panglong initiative in
July made little meaningful progress. A group of four powerful
non-signatory rebel groups from the north, including the KIA and TNLA, met with Suu Kyi on the sidelines
of the summit, yet there is still little sign they are willing to join
the NCA. The peace process, in its current form, appears to be stalling:
talks have reached an impasse with NCA signatories, while the
non-participation of other groups is blocking the path to a nationwide
peace.
It will be hard for Suu Kyi to revive the fortunes of the faltering
peace process in the current climate. Rebel demands for genuine autonomy
and self-determination appear unlikely to be met, despite the
government’s stated desire to turn Myanmar into a federal union. With
the Tatmadaw still dominant and primarily concerned with preserving the
territorial integrity of the state, any attempt by the NLD to cede too
much ground to ethnic rebels would not go down well with the generals,
and would risk the removal of Suu Kyi from power. Military leaders
effectively hold a veto over all decisions made by
democratically-elected politicians. The rhetoric of the generals
suggests the rebels’ demands will not be met in full. Despite Tatmadaw
chief Gen. Min Aung Hlaing calling for a ‘brotherly spirit’
to drive the peace process forward, he has also warned against giving
too much away to ethnic minorities or local political parties. In July,
Hlaing said ‘armed
ethnic groups in some regions cannot represent the entire national
people of 52 million, and political parties only represent a particular
walk of life’. In contrast, he said ‘the people’s Tatmadaw, born of
ethnic people, is an organization representing the state and the
people’. In this context, Suu Kyi’s vision for a federal union with
devolved powers is restricted. The army sees itself as the unifying
force in Myanmar, and is averse to giving up control over defense and
security matters. It is hard to imagine the Tatmadaw agreeing to
withdraw its troops from ethnic areas.
A second barrier to peace is the long-standing lack of trust between
the communities represented by insurgent groups and the Tatmadaw. A
history of alleged army abuses in the form of disappearances,
extrajudicial killings, sexual abuse and the use of slave labor will be
hard to forget for deeply scarred populations, even in the event of a
peace deal. Seven decades of conflict has fermented anger on both sides,
with each viewing the other as the enemy. This factor serves to make
the peace process fragile, and may rear its head if or when more
contentious issues are discussed at a later stage of negotiations.
Future forecast: looking beyond Myanmar’s current political climate
Withstanding international criticism over her handling of the
Rohingya situation, away from the global media spotlight Aung San Suu
Kyi has made considerable efforts to resolve conflicts outside Rakhine
state, making internal peace-making elsewhere a political priority. Yet
it appears on the battlefield, the army has different ideas, and things
have continued much the same as before. In fact, violence on several
fronts has worsened since the NLD’s victory, mainly due to conflict
dynamics at the local level.
While Suu Kyi’s personal view on the Rohingya is shrouded in mystery,
it is clear that her government is not able to act independently of the
Tatmadaw, which still maintains a stranglehold over Myanmar’s politics
and security. To what extent Suu Kyi is willingly allowing the army’s
abuses to go unchecked, or not opting to speak out for fear of losing
power, is unclear. In the domestic political context, it may suit Suu
Kyi to remain silent, as many in the Bamar ethnic majority support the
crackdown in Rakhine.
Yet in other areas where conflicts are raging, the story is
different. Suu Kyi rode to power in 2015 with widespread support from
ethnic minority voters, hopeful the NLD-led government would be able to
reduce violence in their communities. If the stalling peace process
cannot be revived, Suu Kyi risks losing a proportion of this vote at the
ballot box in 2020, risking the military once again firming up its grip
on power. These complex electoral dynamics and the increasingly
volatile events of recent years demonstrate how the situation in Myanmar
is far more nuanced than outside interpretations suggest.
Even beyond the present political era of quasi-civilian part-democratic governance, Myanmar’s ethnic insurgencies will remain highly resistant to resolution. Rather than vague ceasefires and half-hearted peace initiatives, it will take generational shifts and years of trust-building to lend dialogue a chance.
This article was published by Geopolitical Monitor.com