Myanmar Spring Chronicle – View from September 20
(MoeMaKa, September 21, 2025)
To grasp reality, we must look beyond propaganda
A question I often find myself asking is whether the public, the armed resistance groups of the Spring Revolution, and political/military organizations truly know the real situation in Myanmar’s struggle against the coup regime—beyond the narratives and talking points.
In mid-2021, when the junta first seized power and the NUG was formed and the PDF was organized, some people close to us—including certain journalists and even editors—believed the armed resistance would defeat the military within a short time.
Ordinary people, hearing confident talk in the media, sincerely believed victory could come in a matter of months. Because the CDM had disrupted the junta’s administrative machinery, many also assumed the military could no longer govern. Some leaders, too, spoke in ways that boosted morale—saying, in effect, “If we can just hold out a month or two, we’ll win.” It’s understandable that people pinned their hopes on such words.
However, once the decision was made to confront the coup regime by armed means, the country was set on the path of a broad civil war, and history tells us that clear outcomes—win or lose—are rarely reached within months or a few years. The intense civil war of 1949, U Nu’s People’s Comrade Party taking up arms in the 1970s, and the post-1988 ABSDF insurgency all show how complex Myanmar’s armed conflicts are: many factions, divergent goals, and conflicting interests. And that’s even before factoring in the geopolitical interests of neighboring countries. Add in ethnic armed groups and ethno-nationalist currents, and it becomes even clearer that quick, black-and-white outcomes are unlikely—something seasoned political leaders could have anticipated.
In practice, that is not how things unfolded in public discourse. In the age of social media, platform algorithms—which show users more of what they like and want to see—have nudged large audiences toward misconceptions.
Because these platforms make money from advertising, their software amplifies content that keeps users engaged and spending. As a result, users see more of what they already prefer and less of differing views, accounts, or keywords. This reduces exposure to diverse political ideas and factual nuance, and steers people toward wishful thinking.
This raises another question: have non-social-media outlets (traditional newsrooms) been able to present the actual situation? In today’s environment, even legacy media publish and distribute news, photos, and videos via social platforms, so their audiences are likewise shaped by the same algorithms. And because outlets also chase social reach and platform-based revenue, they’re increasingly reluctant to present information or perspectives that go against audience preferences. Add to that internal biases and the shaping influence of their usual sources, and you get today’s media landscape.
Recently, BPLA leader Maung Saungkha wrote on social media about the revolution: it would be better not to say things like “we’ll win soon,” “we’re already winning,” or “victory is near.” He noted that such claims erode public trust and end up misleading people along the revolutionary path.
Taking that comment as a starting point, one can conclude that both movement leaders and influential social-media voices have often portrayed the armed struggle as something that would win quickly.
Yet the real state of the Spring Revolution—its challenges, conflicting interests, and the indispensable need to build unity and compete with the dictatorship militarily and politically—has now become plain to see.
Social media should indeed be used as a communication and modern mobilization tool for the revolution. But leaders and the general public alike must be careful not to become captives of the algorithm. Beyond the rhetoric and propaganda circulating online, it is urgently necessary to track the real situation in real time and understand it as it is.