Inside Myanmar’s ‘Election’: Ballots Amid the Bombs
Yin Paung Taung’s school-turned-polling site reveals how Myanmar’s election unfolded under military guns, with voters coerced, opposition absent, and bombs falling upcountry.
The Village That Voted Under Gunfire
By dawn, the mist still clung to the paddy fields of Yin Paung Taung, a village barely a dot on the map of Myanmar’s central heartland. Yet on this Sunday, the narrow dirt lane leading to the primary school was busy. Soldiers in pressed green fatigues checked IDs while a loudspeaker crackled with the national anthem, the same tune that played before the generals seized power three years ago.
Inside the school, plastic chairs were arranged so voters could sit one meter apart—COVID rules repurposed as crowd control. A young clerk peeled ballot papers from a stack, each sheet bearing the same logo: the military-backed Union Solidarity and Development Party. Opposition names were nowhere in sight.
"We were told to come early or lose ration cards," whispered Daw Mya, 54, clutching her household registration. "No one believes this is free, but refusal feels dangerous."
The Numbers No One Trusts
By nightfall, state television announced a 70 % turnout. Independent monitors, barred from travel, called the figure "imaginary." In Yangon’s shadows, guerrilla groups posted videos of burned ballot boxes in at least five townships, a symbolic rejection of what pro-democracy activists label a "sham election."
Civil War as Campaign Backdrop
While ballots were cast, artillery duels raged 300 miles north in Kachin State. The rebel Kachin Independence Army overran two junta outposts on Friday, seizing weapons and blocking a key jade trade route. Analysts say the military hoped staged polls would project normalcy; instead, battlefield losses undercut the narrative.
What the Constitution Says—And What It Doesn’t
Myanmar’s 2008 charter, drafted under military oversight, reserves 25 % of parliamentary seats for serving officers. Sunday’s vote merely filled vacant slots, but generals claim it revives the democratic roadmap. Critics counter that the charter’s Article 417 allows the military to retake control whenever "national security" is invoked, making elected bodies largely ornamental.
Diplomatic Silence, Regional Shrugs
Western embassies issued tepid statements urging "inclusive dialogue." ASEAN, still bound by its five-point consensus, offered no observer mission. Thailand’s foreign minister called the vote "an internal affair," while China’s state media praised "efforts to restore stability"—code for keeping its oil-and-gas pipelines safe.
Young Voters Who Won’t Play Along
Generation Z, the engine of 2021’s mass protests, largely boycotted the polls. In Monywa, university students turned abandoned polling stations into street art galleries, spray-painting "We remember 1 Feb" across plywood barriers. Security forces arrived within minutes; photos circulated anyway, hashtagged #NoVoteToDictators.
What Happens Next
Results are expected within two weeks. The USDP will claim a sweeping mandate, but real power lies with the State Administration Council, the junta’s governing body. Meanwhile, anti-coup militias told residents to prepare for "phase two"—coordinated attacks on military supply lines ahead of monsoon season. For millions, ballots counted in Naypyidaw feel less relevant than the next airdrop of rice and ammunition.