Will Myanmar’s Military Replace Its Embattled Leader?
Bertil Lintner | 17 June 2025
To pro-democracy forces he is a brutal dictator who imprisons people who oppose his February 2021 coup, a power-hungry maniac who has not hesitated to send aircraft to bomb areas controlled by the resistance. Not even rebel-held towns and villages affected by the devastating March 28 earthquake, which measured 7.7 on the moment magnitude scale, have been spared. The International Criminal Court in The Hague has requested an arrest warrant for him because “there are reasonable grounds to believe” that he “bears criminal responsibility for the crimes against humanity of deportation and persecution” of the country’s Rohingya Muslim minority. Senior General Min Aung Hlaing, who has ruled Myanmar as chairman of the State Administration Council (SAC) since a coup four years ago, could not possibly have a worse reputation internationally and he remains loathed and even hated by the Myanmar population at large, at home and in exile.
Many of his peers in the military, however, believe Min Aung Hlaing is too weak and indecisive. According to sources close to the military leadership, there is dissatisfaction in the ranks as a result of his inability to crush the ethnic and political resistance. Therefore, a heavier hand is needed. Min Aung Hlaing may not be ousted, because the last thing the military wants to show is splits among themselves. But he may be pushed sideways, perhaps asked to resign from the military and then be given the post of “civilian” president after the next general elections, which the SAC says will be held at the end of this year or early next. And those elections, no matter how flawed they turn out to be, will give the military the legitimacy it seeks, at least in a regional context.
Min Aung Hlaing rise’s to prominence began when Senior General Than Shwe, the chairman of the old junta, the State Law and Restoration Council (SLORC), which in 1997 became the State Peace and Development Council (SPDC), decided to retire and give way to a more constitutional form of government. Under Than Shwe, who assumed power in 1992, and his predecessor, General Saw Maung, Myanmar had become isolated from the international community because of its abysmal human rights record. Thousands of pro-democracy protesters were gunned down when the SLORC was formed and took over state power in 1988. Despite its new name, the junta remained equally repressive with China being its only close foreign friend, while the West introduced sanctions and boycotts.
But that dependence on China became too overwhelming, and ThanShwe realized that something had to be done about it. A new constitution, which had been drafted under military auspices, was adopted in 2008 after a referendum, which the outside world dismissed as fraudulent. A general election was held in November 2010 and the military made sure its own party, the Union Solidarity and Development Party (USDP), won a landslide victory. Than Shwe, then 78 years old, was ready to retire. But he did not want to face the same humiliations as his predecessors, General Ne Win and General Saw Maung. Ne Win ruled from 1962 to 1988 and died in December 2002. His death went unannounced by the military authorities and only a handful of officers attended his funeral. Then came Saw Maung, SLORC chief from 1988 to 1992, who was told to step down because his mental health was deteriorating and he had begun to act irrationally. He died in obscurity in July 1997, aged only 68, ostensibly due to a heart attack.
In order to secure his legacy and the future safety of his family, Than Shwe appointed not one but three successors. General Thein Sein, who had served as SPDC secretary, resigned from his military position and, on March 30, 2011, became the country’s new president. On the same day, Min Aung Hlaing was appointed Commander-in-Chief of Myanmar’s Armed Forces, ahead of several more senior officers. The post of speaker of the Pyithu Hluttaw (House of Representatives) of the newly elected bicameral parliament, fell to General Shwe Mann. A trusted protégé of Than Shwe, he had been the third-most powerful man in the SPDC after the chief and his then deputy, Vice-Senior General Maung Aye, who also retired in March 2011. In May 2013, Shwe Mann replaced Thein Sein as chairman of the USDP and was groomed to be president after the next elections scheduled for November 2015.
Then came the real surprises. Prisoners of conscience were released and political parties, including the National League for Democracy (NLD) led by pro-democracy icon Daw Aung San Suu Kyi, were allowed to operate openly, as were non-governmental organizations. Press freedom was introduced for the first time since the initial military takeover in 1962 and even blacklisted foreign correspondents were allowed into the country. It worked, and almost overnight, Myanmar turned from being an international pariah to the darling of the Western world. Western leaders went to Myanmar to see for themselves the remarkable changes that were taking place — and China seemed to be the loser.
In the beginning, everything seemed to be going according to plan. But Thein Sein was not, as some foreign observers wrote at the time, a “Myanmar Gorbachev” who acted independently. He was simply following a master plan that Than Shwe and his closest associates had drawn up well before the 2008 referendum and the 2010 election. Thein Sein also showed his true colors when, in January 2020, he endorsed the policies of the military, saying that Myanmar faced growing threats to “territory, race and religion” and called on the people to vote for candidates who would “protect the country” in the upcoming November elections. Since last year’s coup, Thein Sein has made donations to families of USDP members who have been killed or wounded on suspicion of acting as military informants. Needless to say, he has not donated any money to the many families whose loved ones have been gunned down by the military and the police for demonstrating peacefully against the coup.
What happened during the period of relative openness from 2011 to 2021 was never meant to be the beginning of a “transition to democracy”, which many foreign observers believed at the time. But there was a transformation of Myanmar society, the strength and breadth of which the military never understood. People became accustomed to freedoms they had never enjoyed before. And they voted overwhelmingly for the NLD when they had the chance, the first time in November 2015 and the second in November 2020. Shwe Mann, one of the three generals Than Shwe had handpicked to succeed him, also became carried away and began cooperating with Daw Aung San Suu Kyi and veterans of the pro-democracy student movement. That, however, was a no-no, and, in April 2016, Shwe Mann was expelled from USDP together with 17 other senior members.
The 2015 election led to the formation of an NLD-led government with Daw Aung San Suu Kyi as “state counselor”, a new position that was introduced for her because she could not become president. The 2008 constitution barred people with close foreign relatives from becoming head of state, and her two sons were not Myanmar citizens. The military accepted that, but when the NLD scored its second landslide victory in 2020, the generals decided that enough was enough. On Feb. 1, 2021, as the elected parliament was about to be convened, Min Aung Hlaing’s troops and armored vehicles rolled into the capital Naypyitaw and the country’s main commercial center Yangon. Daw Aung San Suu Kyi and hundreds of other MPs-elect and NLD cadres were arrested.
It soon became clear that people did not want to see a return to the old days when military dictatorship was the norm. At first, they demonstrated against the coup, but were shot at. Thousands of mainly young activists then resorted to armed struggle, allying themselves with the ethnic rebels who are active in Myanmar’s frontier, while others operate independently. Myanmar may have seen internal conflicts tear the country apart virtually since independence from Britain in 1948, but the scale of the fighting that erupted after the 2021 coup is unprecedented in its recent history.
Min Aung Hlaing was selected by Than Shwe to become commander-in-chief because he was not particularly strong, posing no threat to the old strongman. And we are seeing the consequences of that now. Min Aung Hlaing was born on July 3, 1956, in Minbu, Magwe region, and, after studying law at Yangon University, managed to enter the prestigious Defense Services Academy in PyinOo Lwin on his third attempt in 1974. He was an unremarkable cadet, shunned by his classmates, and graduated in 1977. According to a BBC biography published after the coup, he was for years a relatively unassuming infantryman but was loyal and moved up the ladder, eventually becoming commander of the Bureau of Special Operations-2 in 2009. As such, he oversaw operations in Kokang in northeastern Shan State, which led to the flight of tens of thousands of people across the border to China. According to the BBC, “despite allegations of murder, rape and arson against his troops, Min Aung Hlaing continued to rise and in August 2010 he became joint chief of staff.” Others would argue that it was precisely because of those qualities, and his loyalty to Than Shwe, that he eventually rose to the top.
Than Shwe, who turned 92 on Feb. 2, may not be around for much longer to protect Min Aung Hlaing, and given the retirement of Thein Sein and Shwe Mann’s fall from grace, the old strongman’s legacy will soon be over. On the other hand, Min Aung Hlaing, despite his obvious weaknesses, has gained a prominent profile in the region — and that is because of the role he has played after the March earthquake. While efforts by mainly foreign relief workers were in full swing, Min Aung Hlaing went to Bangkok to attend a summit of the Bay of Bengal Initiative for Multi-Sectoral Technical and Economic Cooperation (BIMSTEC), a regional dialog forum that brings together seven South and Southeast Asian countries, including Myanmar. It was Min Aung Hlaing’s first visit to Bangkok since the 2021 coup, and, typically dressed in civilian clothes, he got photo ops with the leaders of all the six other member states: Thai Prime Minister Paetongtarn Shinawatra, Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi, Nepali Prime Minister K.P. Sharma Oli, Bhutanese Prime Minister Tshering Tobgay, Sri Lankan Prime Minister Harini Amarasuriya, and the chief adviser to Bangladesh’s interim government, Muhammed Yunus.
This acceptance of military rule in Myanmar would probably not have happened had it not been for the earthquake and the sympathy it evoked from governments and people in the region. China, initially wary of the backlash that open support for the SAC would have caused among the Myanmar public, for several years kept a discreet distance from Min Aung Hlaing. But on May 9, he met Chinese President Xi Jinping on the sidelines of Russia’s May 8 Victory Day celebrations in Moscow, and, according to a report in the junta’s official newspaper, The Global New Light of Myanmar, thanked China for its humanitarian assistance following the earthquake. It did not seem to matter that the Myanmar air force kept up its bombing campaign against places also in earthquake-affected areas controlled by the resistance. And China is back as a main partner of the Myanmar military, rivaled only by Russia.
The next step towards acceptance will be the forthcoming elections. Critics have dismissed the plan as a delusional fantasy because there are huge areas of the country that the SAC does not control. Most Western powers may think the same, and continue shunning the generals in power in Naypyitaw. But it is an entirely different story in the region. China, India, the members of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations, and perhaps even Japan, are likely to argue that it is “better than nothing”, and “a step in the right direction.”
At the same time, it would not be possible to turn the clock back. The resistance may lack a functioning, unified command, and remain divided with fights often being about local rather than national issues. But those internal conflicts are not likely to go away either, and Min Aung Hlaing is clearly not the strongman who can defeat the opposition and bring most of the country under central, governmental control. His deputy, Vice-Senior General Soe Win, has far more combat experience, is more hardline, and is seen as a likely candidate for the top position in the military. Observers and analysts can only wait and see, but within a year or so, there may be a President Min Aung Hlaing and a Commander-in-Chief Soe Win. Or there may not. The Myanmar military’s leadership is as opaque as the erstwhile Soviet Union was for Kremlinologists, and as China and other totalitarian states are today. But what appears likely is that the military, in one guise or another, will remain in power for the foreseeable future.
Bertil Lintner is a Swedish journalist, author and strategic consultant who has been writing about Asia for nearly four decades.
This article was originally published on The Irrawaddy.
Views in this article are author’s own and do not necessarily reflect CGS policy.