Published: 27 December 2025. The English Chronicle Desk. The English Chronicle Online
On a patch of rough ground near the Irrawaddy River in Mandalay, retired Lieutenant-General Tayza Kyaw, the Union Solidarity and Development Party (USDP) candidate backed by Myanmar’s military rulers, attempts to rally support. Speaking to a crowd of 300-400, he promises better times ahead, but the apathetic audience seems unmoved. Many wear the party’s branded hats and wave flags, but few seem engaged. Children run between the rows of chairs, their attention diverted as they play. Many of the families present are earthquake victims from the region’s devastating March tremor, and their hopes rest on handouts, not political speeches. As soon as the rally ends, they vanish.
This event is part of Myanmar’s first election since the military coup nearly five years ago, which plunged the nation into civil war. On Sunday, citizens will go to the polls for a vote that has been delayed multiple times by the ruling junta. However, the election is widely regarded as a sham. The National League for Democracy (NLD), the country’s most popular party, has been dissolved, and its leader, Aung San Suu Kyi, remains imprisoned in an undisclosed location.
The election will unfold in three stages over the course of a month, but large portions of the country, still gripped by war, will not even have access to polling stations. In the areas where voting will take place, fear and intimidation cloud the process, overshadowing any semblance of democracy. The situation is compounded by military surveillance and harsh restrictions, including the criminalization of dissent, even on social media.
At the rally in Mandalay, when BBC reporters attempted to ask attendees about their views on the election, they were promptly silenced by party officials. “We don’t know how to speak to journalists,” one man nervously explained. Plain-clothes military intelligence officers were scattered throughout the crowd, and the atmosphere was thick with unease. In a dictatorship where merely liking a Facebook page that criticizes the election can lead to severe punishment, even those supporting the military-backed party fear repercussions for speaking freely.
The pervasive climate of fear extends beyond the rally. At a local market, customers buying fresh river fish were equally unwilling to express their thoughts on the election. “We have no choice; we have to vote,” one person said quietly. The fish seller, visibly concerned, warned the reporter to leave: “You will bring me trouble,” she insisted.
However, one woman, who asked to remain anonymous, agreed to speak candidly. Meeting in private and ensuring her identity remained concealed, she shared her thoughts on the election. “This election is a lie,” she said. “Everyone is afraid. Everyone has lost their humanity and their freedom. So many people have died, been tortured, or fled to other countries. If the military continues to run the country, how can anything change?” Despite her disillusionment, she acknowledged the risks of not voting in this climate of fear.
As the election approaches, the prospects for Myanmar’s people remain bleak. The military junta’s attempt to stage an election, even in the face of widespread opposition, shows how far the country’s military rulers are willing to go to maintain control. However, for many Myanmar citizens, the upcoming vote will offer a choice between fear and submission, rather than real political agency or change.
























































































