Min Aung Hlaing has taken the presidency in a bid to consolidate both political and military control. It won’t be so easy.

Myanmar’s military, known as the Tatmadaw, has once again initiated a transition away from direct junta rule to a hybrid system in which it attempts to exercise power via a quasi-civilian proxy government. As history shows, however, elections and parliamentary politics are likely to produce dynamics and outcomes that the Tatmadaw cannot fully control. Rather than offering a secure path towards regime consolidation, the transition and Min Aung Hlaing’s recent ascension to the presidency have exposed the Tatmadaw to considerable risk.

The ongoing transition began with tightly controlled elections held in phases between December 2025 and January 2026, in which the Union Solidarity and Development Party (USDP), led by retired officers, won by a landslide. This same outcome marked the beginning of the 2010 transition, when limited elections also led to the USDP’s sweeping victory. The Tatmadaw’s pivot back towards limited political transition is motivated by two objectives.

Firstly, the Tatmadaw employs transition as part of a strategy to lower the costs of armed conflict through the partial substitution of violent means with political processes. Stated differently, limited political transition offers the Tatmadaw a way to better manage domestic and international opposition when the costs associated with direct military rule undermine its corporate interests and objectives. Politics, to invert the Clausewitzian dictum, is thus a continuation of war by other means.

Secondly, the latest transition serves as a vehicle for elite bargaining and reorientation following a prolonged period of instability and institutional decay in the wake of the 2021 coup. For Min Aung Hlaing, it is viewed as an opportunity to consolidate both political and military control now that the threat of regime collapse has seemingly subsided. For internal competitors and those dissatisfied with his rule, there is hope that the return of parliament and selection of a new commander-in-chief will dilute Min Aung Hlaing’s power while offering a moment for strategic recalibration. The appointment of Min Aung Hlaing’s close ally Ye Win Oo as the commander-in-chief has dampened these aspirations and may stoke further dissatisfaction within the military.

Likewise, the election outcome has stirred significant political tension between the USDP and the Tatmadaw. Relations between the two had already deteriorated severely in the wake of the 2021 coup. Yet the USDP’s sweeping electoral victory has provided the party with substantial bargaining power, sufficient to challenge Min Aung Hlaing and his allies. Rather than cooperation and shared interest, the relationship between the Tatmadaw and the USDP is better defined by competitive co-dependence, a dynamic witnessed before: the Tatmadaw’s previous attempt to rule via the USDP encountered serious obstacles between 2010 and 2015, when key party leaders pursued reforms and policies that did not always serve the Tatmadaw’s interests.

The Tatmadaw’s previous experiment with elections and parliamentary politics from 2010 to 2020 led to an unexpected degree of positive political, economic and social change. But the current transition is unlikely to unfold in a wholly similar way. The Tatmadaw launched the 2010 transition from a position of unrivalled strength alongside confidence in its ability to manage new political players and competition. The current transition, meanwhile, is marred by enduring conflict and the absence of any organisational consensus about a way forward. For this reason, both the Tatmadaw and the USDP are likely to proceed with caution and to avoid major reforms or overly antagonistic manoeuvres against one another that could lead to sudden ruptures or unexpected changes.

Nonetheless, the recent elections and ongoing transition reveal both Min Aung Hlaing’s and the Tatmadaw’s political vulnerability. The return of parliament will invariably lead to the rise of new players and dynamics that no single actor can control. Instead of progressing according to a strategic consensus or prearranged power-sharing agreement, the transition largely consists of ad hoc, layered and fragile elite bargains in the context of an ongoing war, an unstable economic environment and a contested political arena. These fraught dynamics are likely to produce unexpected outcomes while exposing both Min Aung Hlaing and the Tatmadaw to the threat of internal, as well as external, manipulation and pressure.

Orderly transition

Myanmar’s transition decade between 2010 and 2020 saw the Tatmadaw introduce elections, parliamentary politics and a peace process under the Nationwide Ceasefire Agreement (NCA) framework. Rather than a genuine turn towards liberal democracy, the transition was designed to better manage armed and political opposition while allowing the Tatmadaw to maintain its rule via a proxy, the USDP. Instead of allowing the military to retain absolute control over the state, however, the transition gave rise to other political actors and led to profound changes across Myanmar.

Preparations for the transition began around 2003 when the military junta, known then as the State Peace and Development Council, introduced its ‘roadmap to discipline-flourishing democracy’. A new constitution in 2008 enshrined the Tatmadaw’s role in politics by reserving 25% of the parliamentary seats for military appointees. The constitution also grants the Tatmadaw permanent control over the ministries of Defence, Border Affairs and Home Affairs, ensuring the military’s domination of security matters.

In 2010, retired Tatmadaw officers formed the USDP to run in the first junta-organised elections since 1990. With Aung San Suu Kyi still under house arrest, the National League for Democracy (NLD) boycotted the polls, clearing the way for a USDP victory. After taking power in 2011, the new USDP government released political prisoners, removed restrictions on civil society and the press, and introduced a series of liberal market reforms. It also pursued ceasefires with most of the country’s ethnic armed organisations (EAOs), leading to an 80% reduction in the nationwide number of armed clashes, according to data from the former Myanmar Peace Centre.1

This transition from direct military rule towards proxy rule via a quasi-civilian government offered several advantages for the Tatmadaw. Firstly, by allowing a controlled political opening, the Tatmadaw was able to reintegrate Myanmar diplomatically and economically into the international community. Sanctions relief coupled with an influx of foreign direct investment and development assistance led to significant improvements in the quality of life for Myanmar citizens, providing the USDP (and even the Tatmadaw) with a legitimacy dividend. Diplomatic normalisation with the West also helped the Tatmadaw reduce its reliance on China.

Secondly, the NCA peace process under then-president Thein Sein not only provided ceasefire provisions but also envisioned the formation of a federal democratic union as a lasting solution to the conflict. Domestic and international endorsement of this vision lent the Tatmadaw significant legitimacy while solidifying its status as an inalienable stakeholder in the country’s future. The articulation of a non-violent solution also helped delegitimise the use of armed rebellion, making it harder for EAOs to resort to violence. The Tatmadaw’s ceasefires with the majority of its opponents further freed up significant resources, allowing it to redirect military power against remaining EAOs with which it was either unwilling or unable to compromise.

But the decision to release Aung San Suu Kyi in November 2010 precipitated a series of events leading to even greater changes in Myanmar. In 2012, Aung San Suu Kyi’s NLD swept the by-elections, taking 43 of 45 available seats. Though it recognised the threat, the Tatmadaw did not move to disbar the NLD, and in 2015 the party won the general elections by a landslide. Rather than ruling via its preferred proxy, the Tatmadaw was forced into a fragile power-sharing arrangement with the NLD. To make matters worse, constitutional provisions designed to prevent Aung San Suu Kyi from assuming the presidency failed when the new NLD government created the role of ‘state counsellor’, allowing her to become the de facto head of state.

Although the NLD’s victory was not part of the strategy, it did not prevent the Tatmadaw from reaping the benefits of the broader process set in motion five years prior. If anything, it absolved the Tatmadaw of responsibility for decades of economic mismanagement and underdevelopment by shifting the burden of civilian governance onto the NLD. In 2018, for example, the Tatmadaw willingly handed control of the General Administration Department, the country’s primary administrative machinery, to the NLD-controlled Ministry of the Office of the Union Government. By offloading economic, administrative and political burdens onto the new civilian government, the Tatmadaw had more bandwidth to focus on its own interests, especially in the security realm, where the NLD proved reluctant to intervene.

The power-sharing arrangement with the NLD also allowed the Tatmadaw to partially deflect or dilute blame for its own role in any ongoing conflict. In October 2020, for example, the Union Election Commission cancelled elections across northern Rakhine State due to ongoing conflict between the Arakan Army (AA) and Tatmadaw. Despite its own role in forcing such an outcome, the Tatmadaw openly criticised the decision, helping to redirect much of the public anger for the cancellations towards the NLD.

The quintessential manifestation of this dynamic came the year before, when Aung San Suu Kyi, rather than Min Aung Hlaing, travelled to The Hague in 2019 to defend the country for the crimes the Tatmadaw committed against the Rohingya two years prior. The genocide against the Rohingya presented a serious dilemma for international and domestic stakeholders who feared that strongly censuring the Tatmadaw for its crimes could jeopardise the peace process and broader transition towards democracy. Taken together, the NLD provided the Tatmadaw with a significant degree of political and diplomatic cover, especially when it aligned with the military on certain issues, as it occasionally did.

The transition further enabled the Tatmadaw to acquire new hardware and enhance its domestic manufacturing capacity as a part of its ‘standard army’ reforms. According to the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute’s Arms Transfers Database, the total volume of arms imports recorded between 2011 and 2020 was more than double that recorded between 2001 and 2010. Acquisitions during the transition era included everything from surface-to-air missiles, advanced fighter jets, attack helicopters, uninhabited aerial vehicles, precision-guided munitions, artillery guns, main battle tanks, frigates, and surveillance technology. Beyond hardware purchases, the transition allowed for greater access to finance, raw materials and industrial machinery, allowing the Tatmadaw to become largely self-sufficient in the production of munitions and small arms.

Though the link between its arms imports and battlefield performance is not well established, empirically the Tatmadaw remained dominant throughout the transition era. Between 2010 and 2020, most of the armed violence witnessed in Myanmar was between the Tatmadaw and members of the now-defunct Northern Alliance, which included the AA, the Kachin Independence Army (KIA), the Myanmar National Democratic Alliance Army (MNDAA) and the Ta’ang National Liberation Army (TNLA). The Tatmadaw repelled every joint offensive by Northern Alliance members, namely the 2015 Kokang offensive, the 2016 Mongko offensive, and the 2019 offensive along the Mandalay–Muse highway.

Though it faced dogged insurgencies from these groups in Kachin, Shan and Rakhine states, the Tatmadaw’s foothold in these theatres was never truly contested. To the contrary, prior to the 2021 coup, the Tatmadaw had confined the MNDAA’s operational area to a sliver of land along the Chinese border, expelled the AA from the eastern side of the Kaladan River in Rakhine, forced the KIA into a de facto ceasefire across all of Kachin, and begun to advance into the TNLA’s stronghold area in northern Shan State. This outlook differs dramatically from the post-2021 context, in which the aforementioned groups managed to expel the Tatmadaw from large parts of these same theatres.

Overall, the Tatmadaw’s controlled transition was designed to lower the costs of military rule while providing a favourable environment in which to pursue modernisation of the armed forces. The transition was never intended to facilitate the Tatmadaw’s ultimate exit from politics. Nor did the Tatmadaw plan to submit itself to civilian control or allow EAOs to retain their weapons indefinitely. Instead, the Tatmadaw sought to maintain direct control over national defence and security while offloading administrative and economic burdens onto a proxy government over which it retained influence and a political veto. The peace process was likewise intended to facilitate the ultimate disarmament or reintegration of armed opponents in exchange for federalism and greater, albeit limited, ethnic autonomy.

Going off script

Despite its careful planning, both the 2010 and 2015 elections unleashed unanticipated political, social and economic forces that the Tatmadaw could not fully control, many of which collided to propel the transition far beyond its original intent. One consequential factor was the principal-agent problem that emerged between the Tatmadaw and the USDP. Although the party leadership was comprised of former generals, the advent of executive and parliamentary processes and privileges dramatically redirected political incentives away from the rigid command structure of the military. In the political ecosystem, USDP leaders found greater reward in advancing the party’s position than in doing the direct bidding of the Tatmadaw leaders.

This dynamic helps explain why then-president Thein Sein and Shwe Mann, speaker of the Pyithu Hluttaw, the lower house of parliament, pursued a surprising degree of reforms, despite being former generals. Intra-Tatmadaw dynamics also mattered. Coming third in the military hierarchy, General Shwe Mann had retired and joined the USDP in expectation of becoming the president. Instead, that role was secured by Thein Sein, while Shwe Mann was appointed as speaker of the lower house.

A rivalry between the two emerged, driving Shwe Mann to pursue his political ambitions by asserting his constitutional authority as speaker.2 Under Section 64 of the 2008 Constitution, the president is restricted from being involved in political party-related activities. This provision allowed Shwe Mann to exercise de facto control over the USDP, thereby limiting Thein Sein’s influence over the parliament.

The rivalry between Shwe Mann and Thein Sein drove surprising political outcomes. In June 2015, Shwe Mann sided with Aung San Suu Kyi and the NLD in support of a failed bill that would limit the military’s power by amending the 2008 Constitution. Speculation emerged that Shwe Mann had made a pact with the NLD in exchange for the presidency under a future NLD administration. This fear led to Shwe Mann’s forced ouster in August 2015, just months before the general elections.

The episode – and the USDP’s tenure more broadly – demonstrated that the Tatmadaw’s ability to rule through a proxy was not absolute. To the contrary, the 2008 Constitution and the introduction of parliamentary politics allowed ambitious actors to limit, or at least challenge, the Tatmadaw’s political power. This reality became even more evident once the NLD won the 2015 elections and assumed executive and legislative control of the government.

The Tatmadaw has also struggled to design political systems or processes without jeopardising its own objectives. For example, in reserving 25% of seats for military appointees, the Tatmadaw had apparently assumed that any proxy party would be able to secure an additional 26% of the seats – whether directly or through coalition building – allowing it to form a military-backed government. Instead, in 2015 the NLD won nearly 80% of the available seats across both the lower and upper houses.

The 2008 Constitution is riddled with a multitude of design flaws that do not serve the Tatmadaw well. During the previous era, such designs even led to political checks on the Tatmadaw’s room to manoeuvre on the battlefield. For example, Article 412 in conjunction with Article 413 of the 2008 Constitution allows the president to transfer executive and judicial powers in specified areas to the commander-in-chief, who can then delegate authority to a regional commander.

This provision emerged as an obstacle for the Tatmadaw’s operations in Rakhine State. As part of its armed campaign from 2019 onwards, the AA attempted to dismantle and replace the government-controlled administration in Rakhine. To counter this, the Tatmadaw carried out regular arrests against individuals with suspected ties to the AA, but the local courts could not keep pace. To reassert administrative control and streamline the prosecution of AA operatives and affiliates, the Tatmadaw sought to enact martial law in the state, but the move was blocked by the NLD, which controlled the presidency held by U Win Myint.3

Similarly, the Tatmadaw’s investment in the NCA placed at least some constraints on its ability to manoeuvre against EAOs that had bought into the peace process. This dynamic was exemplified during a highly controversial lapse in the ceasefire between the Tatmadaw and the Karen National Union (KNU) in 2018. The episode began in March that year, when the Tatmadaw informed the KNU Brigade 5 of its intent to upgrade an old road connecting some of its outposts in Hpapun Township, where the latter operates. Fighting erupted when Brigade 5 rejected the plan and the Tatmadaw began construction works anyway.

As the most powerful and influential signatory to the NCA, the KNU’s participation was critical for the peace process and lent the Tatmadaw and government substantial credibility. Accordingly, the Tatmadaw initially went to great lengths to prevent further escalation in Hpapun and to preclude a broader deterioration in relations with the KNU. Although the conflict was temporarily de-escalated, the Tatmadaw ultimately proved unable or unwilling to resolve the underlying issue. In October 2018, dismayed by the events in Hpapun, the KNU suspended its formal participation in the NCA process. The episode incurred high costs on the Tatmadaw by eroding both domestic and international trust in the NCA, and the peace process never recovered.

The Hpapun crisis became emblematic of a broader debate over whether the Tatmadaw was genuine in its efforts to bring peace and other meaningful reforms to Myanmar. But this line of enquiry obscured the deeper motivations and strategies pursued by both the Tatmadaw and its opponents. Having spent decades on the receiving end of the military’s brutality, it is unlikely that EAOs ever believed that the Tatmadaw intended to repent for its past behaviours. Like the Tatmadaw, EAOs instead saw a strategic opportunity in a process that could lower the costs of conflict by shifting rivalry and competition into the political arena.

This concept informed the strategy of other key actors. The United States, for example, played a pivotal role in the transition through its early decision to restore relations with Myanmar in January 2012. The US government, which worked actively to identify ‘moderate’ members of both the Tatmadaw and USDP, helped encourage reforms by offering sanctions relief and general diplomatic support. Though it had not anticipated the restoration of relations with the US, the Tatmadaw and the USDP welcomed the development as it offered a potential way to balance against the outsized influence of China following a prolonged period of international isolation. Another effect of international engagement was that it allowed the USDP to enhance its political position vis-à-vis the Tatmadaw by capitalising on the influx of technical and financial support given to the new government.

Transition 2.0?

The junta-organised elections held between December 2025 and January 2026 and the restoration of parliament strongly mirror the strategy pursued by the Tatmadaw beginning in 2010. As in the past, a core driver is the Tatmadaw’s desire to lower the costs of conflict and manage domestic and international opposition via the introduction of a quasi-civilian government. However, the current context differs in one paramount way. While the previous transition entailed a well-planned shift to a new generation of Tatmadaw leadership, the current transition is marked by Min Aung Hlaing’s ad hoc attempts to retain control over both the incoming government and Tatmadaw. This dynamic has led to serious tensions both between the Tatmadaw and the USDP and within the Tatmadaw itself.

As commander-in-chief, Min Aung Hlaing has overseen some of the worst defeats in the Tatmadaw’s history, and internal dissatisfaction with his rule remains. Despite the enormous damage he inflicted on the institution, however, senior Tatmadaw commanders did not attempt to remove him by force out of concern that doing so would undermine the cohesion of the organisation and the integrity of the commander-in-chief role.

Therefore, the recent elections were viewed by some within the Tatmadaw as an orderly way to diminish Min Aung Hlaing’s control over the organisation, even if it meant he would ascend to the presidency. This logic differs from that held by Min Aung Hlaing himself, as his objective is to consolidate political power while retaining maximum control over the Tatmadaw. Despite these differences, both Min Aung Hlaing and the military are probably somewhat aligned in their desire to retain influence over the USDP.

However, the broad deterioration in USDP–Tatmadaw relations following the 2021 coup complicates this objective. As well as ousting the NLD, the Tatmadaw’s power grab upended the entire political and economic arrangement of the previous era, to which the USDP was a major beneficiary. It also led to the killings of hundreds of USDP party members and officials who were targeted by resistance forces in the early phase of the war. The USDP’s frustration with the Tatmadaw had become so strong that, prior to the recent elections, party leaders were openly telling intermediaries that they would block Min Aung Hlaing from securing the presidency.

Despite its deleterious consequences, the post-coup war has nonetheless allowed the USDP to incrementally enhance its leverage over the Tatmadaw. The party has, over the last several years, served as the primary administrative provider at the local level in areas controlled or contested by the Tatmadaw. It has also played an instrumental role in raising local militias, known as Pyu Saw Htee, and provided tens of thousands of conscripts to the Tatmadaw. The USDP’s leverage is further enhanced by its position as the only mainstream political party with which the Tatmadaw can hope to ally with. To put it simply, the Tatmadaw remains significantly dependent on the USDP.

For this reason, Min Aung Hlaing and his allies sought to deliberately limit the extent of the USDP’s victory in the recent general elections, according to multiple figures close to both sides. But the party still won its largest mandate to date, taking nearly 80% of the available seats. This victory further enhanced the USDP’s bargaining power vis-à-vis the Tatmadaw and Min Aung Hlaing by granting the party the sole ability to select the president. In a clear indication of the tension between the two sides, negotiations over a political power-sharing agreement were still under way on 14 March 2026, two days before the USDP’s party leader, Khin Yi, was announced as the speaker of the lower house.

The precarious relationship between the USDP and Tatmadaw underscores the considerable risk that the latter has taken in orchestrating a new transition. The USDP’s overperformance demonstrates the limited ability of Min Aung Hlaing and his allies to design systems or processes that they can fully control. Consequently, his power is dependent on a delicate and complex web of elite negotiation and bargaining, rather than any institutional consensus or well-planned transition strategy. This dynamic is likely to produce unexpected outcomes and offer opportunities for Min Aung Hlaing’s detractors and rivals to curtail his ambitions.

A narrow window

Despite the striking similarities with the past, the parameters of the ongoing transition are far narrower than before. While the previous era was initiated by the Tatmadaw from a position of confidence and strength, the upcoming transition follows a period of institutional decay and does not reflect any strong internal consensus. This reality is likely to shape a far more cautious and risk-averse disposition among key Tatmadaw and USDP leaders, meaning that any opening will be seriously restricted. The current transition will also be shaped by lessons from the past, and the Tatmadaw can be expected to avoid at least some of the missteps it made before. It is reasonable to expect, for example, the continuation of restrictions on the internet, media and the right to assembly, to prevent any political or social awakening like the one unleashed by the previous transition. The Tatmadaw could also attempt to close unfavourable legislative loopholes by amending the constitution.

With that said, the Tatmadaw has always deployed limited concession and compromise as part of its conflict-management strategy. In a sign that it will continue to do so, on 2 March 2026 the junta released 10,162 prisoners, including 7,337 convicted under the counter-terrorism law, and pardoned another 12,487 with pending charges. With regards to its armed opponents, the Tatmadaw has traditionally offered a selective ceasefire, political recognition and limited forms of ethnic autonomy to dissuade continued rebellion, and it is reasonable to expect that the new government will utilise similar tactics. While such measures should not be misinterpreted as a genuine turn towards peace or reconciliation, they nonetheless provide opportunities that savvy opponents can also take advantage of for tactical or strategic gain. The Tatmadaw’s attempts to manipulate its opponents have backfired on more than one occasion for this very reason.

Similarly, the military’s attempts at proxy rule have never gone according to plan. At present, the greatest challenge to Min Aung Hlaing comes from the USDP, as Khin Yi is expected to cautiously pursue his own agenda and, given his advantageous position, will likely find ways to exert influence over the legislative process. To dilute Khin Yi’s power, Min Aung Hlaing installed several loyalists in senior USDP roles, including retired general Aung Lin Dwe, who is now the USDP speaker of the upper house, the Amyotha Hluttaw. Moreover, only several USDP figures close to Khin Yi were granted cabinet positions in the new government. With that said, Min Aung Hlaing loyalists only occupy subordinate positions within the party, and internal support remains firmly aligned with Khin Yi, according to multiple sources close to the USDP leadership. Neither Min Aung Hlaing nor the Tatmadaw will be able to fully control the USDP.

In contrast, Min Aung Hlaing has managed to install his loyalists Ye Win Oo and Kyaw Swar Lin as the commander-in-chief and deputy commander-in-chief of the Tatmadaw, respectively. Their selection came as a last-minute surprise to some regime insiders, who had expected former deputy commander-in-chief Soe Win to take the helm. Multiple sources remarked that Soe Win ultimately refused to take over, insisting on retirement instead. This development played out well for Min Aung Hlaing, as Soe Win’s strong institutional standing would have allowed him to act independently and exert significant control over the Tatmadaw.

Still, there are several caveats to consider. The appointment of Ye Win Oo upends the historical norm, as a former intelligence chief has never assumed the role before. Though he wields power through the intelligence apparatus, Ye Win Oo’s internal position within the military is not strong, and his selection deviates from the expectations of senior Tatmadaw commanders who had hoped for a change. While Ye Win Oo’s internal weakness should, in theory, make him more malleable to the president, it is worth noting that Min Aung Hlaing himself was selected as commander-in-chief in 2011 because he was also weak and presumably malleable. There is no guarantee that Ye Win Oo will do exactly as Min Aung Hlaing instructs, especially if faced with significant internal or external pressures.

Whether such pressures take shape, however, will depend on the responses of the opposition and the international community. The Tatmadaw’s position on the battlefield continues to steadily improve while opposition fatigue and fragmentation further deepen. The diplomatic environment is also shifting in favour of the military as some international stakeholders move to gradually ‘normalise’ their relations with Naypyidaw. This means that the Tatmadaw is unlikely to face the kind of domestic or international pressure that precipitated its losses in 2023 and 2024, unless and until its opponents demonstrate an equal ability for strategic adaptation. At present, most appear committed to a strategy of confronting the Tatmadaw primarily in an arena where it excels, rather than one in which it has historically stumbled.