Guest contributor
Sai Latt
It has been more than four years since the uprising to the 2021 military coup and we are almost completely ignoring one crucial aspect: investing in people with education. By education, I do not mean schooling alone, but rather how people are nurtured from birth and socialized throughout their lifetime in a nation marked by intense fear and inequality in the distribution of privilege and wealth.
In previous articles, I have highlighted that a successful transformation from dictatorship to democracy requires more than merely replacing the military regime with a new government through armed resistance. Rather, it necessitates a fundamental transformation of the fabric of Myanmar’s society including distributive justice.
Despite many celebrating the ongoing success of armed resistance groups in taking control of territory, one puzzling question remains: Where is the investment in democratic transformation going? If we are to truly transform the country, we must invest in people. But are we doing so?
Authoritarian continuity?
Observing people’s psychological and behavioral tendencies reveals that we have not changed much. Despite claiming to be fighting to topple the military dictatorship, deeply rooted beliefs about nearly everything—society, economy, race and religion, gender, leadership dynamics, hierarchy, and more—remain largely untransformed.
There have been some changes, of course, such as the increasing recognition of gender equality and respect for diversity. However, these changes often feel superficial rather than deeply ingrained.
In many ways, a mix of religious conservatism, ethnocentrism, and authoritarian behaviors still persists and is evident almost every day—in families, communities, schools, religious institutions, workplaces, and offices. That is, we talk of getting rid of military dictators in Naypyidaw, but we have not done anything to transform our own authoritarian attitudes and behaviours.
Throughout my research last year, certain issues repeatedly emerged as routine concerns. One of them is, which I refer to as “accidental militarism”—a phenomenon in which people glorify militaristic behaviors, perhaps unintentionally, through various means, including costumes, photography, music, and music videos.
In media reports, images of armed groups are often used to evoke a sense of glory and pride in military power. Supposed civilian leaders frequently wear full military uniforms at public events, blurring the lines between civil and military authority.
Meanwhile, civil society members—who should be holding powerholders accountable—often act as cheerleaders for armed groups rather than maintaining a critical stance.
There are already numerous reports of resistance groups abusing power through taxation, arbitrary arrests, and even killings of civilians. Although the most brutal violence is committed by the regime, reports of misconduct by resistance groups are becoming common.
It is important to emphasize that the purpose of pointing this out is not to equate resistance groups with the regime but that some may have the potential to behave just like it.
Dehumanization is another issue. One incident involves a popular musician publicly stating that those who did not join the Civil Disobedience Movement (CDM) would only be allowed to watch his live concert from “a corner of the venue constructed like a pig pen”, and that after democracy is restored, non-CDMers would face segregation and have to ride in a separate section of the bus.
Meanwhile, some CDM members proposed policies to punish those who refused to join its anti-regime protest, or to grant discriminatory treatment to those who joined later.
The list may go on, but it reflects a troubling mentality —one in which those with differing views are regarded as enemies. It also highlights our vulnerability to authoritarian continuity even if the regime collapses.
Socializing fear and intolerance still
Where did we learn these authoritarian attitudes and behaviors? What psychological and neurological elements might be acting as a central force behind them?
Recently, I came across a quote by Peter Hatemi and colleagues: “It’s not that conservative people are more fearful, it’s that fearful people are more conservative.”
Scholars from different regions—such as Fathali Moghaddam, Liya Yu, Ashis Nandy, Amartya Sen, Mari Fitzduff, Achille Mbembe, and Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o—have explored how fear and threat perception reinforce conservative attitudes, rigidity, authoritarian tendencies, and resistance to change.
Let’s assume for a moment that Myanmar is a conservative country (which it undeniably is) and that the nationwide armed resistance is a radical act aimed at overthrowing one of the most brutal military regimes in the world.
But how radical is radical if the resistance movement fails to address the deep-seated authoritarian roots embedded in the very fabric of society dominated by fear and inequality?
Evolutionarily, our brains primarily function to protect us from harm and danger. Their default mode often interprets anything unfamiliar or different as a potential threat. Thus, humans are biologically predisposed to fear. However, biology alone does not determine our behavior.
According to scholars, the way we are nurtured from birth, the socialization we undergo throughout our lives, and our socio-political environments shape how we think and act. Moreover, trauma experienced by our ancestors can be transmitted to us genetically, potentially impacting our emotions, stress responses, decision-making patterns, and responses to conflicts.
In other words, the authoritarian tendencies observed among contemporary Myanmar people is a complex interplay of nature (biology), nurture (family and education), socialization (community, religion, work), material conditions, and intergenerational trauma.
To elaborate, for example, traditional child-rearing practices reinforce hierarchical authority, patriarchy, and obedience. Our schools teach conformity. Religious teachings often promote belief in myths, irrational views, and intolerance.
Community socialization instills fear, dislike, and discrimination against different groups. Workplaces, including in the resistance movements be they civilian or armed groups, demand respect for authority and power structures.
Additionally, cultural carriers—such as folktales, school curricula, movies, and literature and so on —preserve memories of humiliating pasts caused by perceived outsiders or enemies (e.g. colonial and post-colonial oppression, “religious invasion”, exploitations, etc.) rather than encouraging people to imagine how all these groups could work together to create a positive future.
As a result of these combined influences, we are still largely conditioned to fear the unfamiliar (despite our ideals of diversity), conform to societal norms with little or no question, respect authority, crave strong leaders and rigid rules, and exhibit intolerance.
Our conscious minds may desire change, but unconsciously, we are stuck with such influences thus perpetuating the cycle of authoritarian continuity.
So far, we have been striving to topple the military regime through armed resistance. We aim to transform governmental systems and institutions in the name of anti-dictatorship, democracy, federalism, constitutional reform, social justice, and other ideals. But we have not paid attention to addressing how deeply our authoritarian tendencies have been ingrained through socialization.
Without it, we will not break free from the cycle of authoritarian socialization that has existed for generations. Authoritarianism will continue to trap us in conflict, poverty, and suffering—because it exists within us and alongside us.
Thus, transforming Myanmar into a peaceful and just country requires reshaping the very system of socialization – one that liberates people from fear, respects human dignity, and empowers them towards equality.
This includes establishing an entirely new tradition of child-raising, education (life-long relearning for independent thinking in the face of evolving new challenges), and trauma management, which, in turn, demands investment in people.
We cannot afford to continue seeking people to sacrifice for the revolution while neglecting to invest in them.
This article is part of the author’s ongoing research. Comments and feedback are warmly welcomed and can be sent to [email protected].
Sai Latt is a research associate with the Regional Center for Social Science and Sustainable Development at Chiang Mai University and the York Centre for Asian Research at York University. His social and political research focuses on peace and conflict in Myanmar through interdisciplinary perspectives, with recent work emphasising political psychology and social neuroscience.
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