Let us pause for a moment and imagine ourselves as prisoners. If we were 80 years old, unjustly imprisoned for crimes we never committed, how would we feel?
For decades, Myanmar’s military generals—powerful men armed with soldiers, tanks and weapons—have feared one unarmed woman: Daw Aung San Suu Kyi.
Unlike the generals, she holds no weapons. She is thin, frail and carries no more than the flower tucked into her hair. Yet what terrifies the generals is not any physical force but the mandate the people have given her—the authority to govern, the legitimacy conferred through the ballot box.
In plain terms, it is the people’s overwhelming support that grants her this power. Not the ordinary support that many politicians receive, but something far deeper—a relationship built on mutual trust, respect and responsibility. Many see her not just as a leader but as a mother of the nation.
Some critics dismiss this as blind loyalty or personality cult worship. But for most people, their support is grounded in her lifelong sacrifice: giving up personal comfort and her family life, and enduring years of house arrest, all for the sake of the country.
The generals fear this kind of authority because it cannot be taken by force. While they have weapons, she has the people’s trust—something they could never achieve.
That trust translated into landslide victories in every election her party has contested. From 1990 to 2020, the National League for Democracy (NLD) consistently won overwhelming majorities. This unshakable popular mandate threatened the military leaders to their core.
Why do they fear her? Because she represents the possibility of losing their grip on power, facing justice for decades of abuses, and watching their ill-gotten wealth vanish. Their greed and lust for control fuel this relentless fear.
The consequence? She has been arrested four times since 1988, spending a total of 19 years in detention to date. After the 2021 coup, she was sentenced again—this time to 27 more years behind bars. At 80 years old, she has become not only one of the world’s most repeatedly imprisoned political leaders, but also the oldest female political prisoner in the world.
This latest detention is the harshest. Isolated, held in an undisclosed location, denied access even to her family, she is treated not only as a prisoner but as a hostage. Under junta chief Min Aung Hlaing’s brutal leadership, anything seems possible.
The path that threatens the generals
Daw Aung San Suu Kyi’s unwavering commitment to nonviolence and democracy dates back to 1988. In her first speech at Yangon’s Shwedagon Pagoda, she called the political uprising of that year “the second independence struggle.” She was only 43 at the time.
From then on, she faced not only repeated arrests but relentless personal attacks, even assassination attempts plotted by the ruling generals. Despite this, she refused to resort to violence. Her political philosophy is rooted in liberal democracy: protecting freedom and equality through rule of law, accountable government and honest politics.
She famously insisted that “political integrity” only comes with “plain honesty in politics.” Her strategy remained nonviolent resistance and dialogue—borrowing from the traditions of Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr.
Her ultimate goal has always been clear: dismantle dictatorship and build a genuinely democratic federal union in Myanmar.
The military’s fear of her was obvious from the start. In 1989, less than a year after entering politics, she was first placed under house arrest. But even in detention, her party swept the 1990 elections in a landslide—a shocking rebuke of military rule that embarrassed the generals on the world stage.
Over the years, each of her releases reignited political momentum. But the military constantly tightened control, blocking her movements, orchestrating attacks against her, and repeatedly detaining her.
One of the most notorious attacks came in 2003, at Depayin, Sagaing Region, where her convoy was ambushed by government-backed thugs wielding swords and clubs. She narrowly escaped death; dozens of her supporters did not. The plot was organized by General Soe Win, then Secretary-1 of the military junta and prime minister of its government.
Despite such various attacks, she clung to dialogue with her “enemies” as a way to resolve Myanmar’s political crisis. Yet, the generals repeatedly used such talks as stalling tactics to manipulate international opinion while refusing genuine compromise.
In a revealing moment, UN envoy Razali Ismail once described his experiences of so-called “dialogue” between her and the junta as nothing more than “monologues” delivered by Than Shwe, supremo of the previous regime.
Even as she later held meetings with general-turned president Thein Sein and Min Aung Hlaing, no meaningful political dialogue ever took root. The generals have never developed a true culture of dialogue or reconciliation.
Betrayed by her father’s army
Although Daw Aung San Suu Kyi often expressed affection for the military founded by her father General Aung San, that army no longer exists in spirit. Since late General Ne Win’s 1962 coup, successive generals have transformed the military into a tool for personal power, greed, and brutal repression.
Despite the slogan protesters chanted from 1988 through the 2021 Spring Revolution, that proclaims “The army General Aung San built was not for killing the people,” the generals continued their massacres. Today’s army has devolved into an outright fascist force.
Even now, as Daw Aung San Suu Kyi remains imprisoned, she surely knows how the army continues to slaughter the very people it once claimed to protect.
Internationally, her nonviolent leadership earned her immense respect, including the Nobel Peace Prize. But during the Rohingya crisis, the global community turned on her, accusing her of defending the military’s ethnic cleansing operations. Awards were revoked, and her global reputation suffered a devastating blow.
Yet inside Myanmar, the support remained solid. Many saw her as prioritizing fragile national reconciliation over international pressure. In 2020, her party once again won an even larger electoral mandate.
From reconciliation to revolution
The 2021 military coup shattered the decades-long hope for reconciliation. The military’s betrayal made clear that dialogue was impossible. Daily killings, bombings and mass arrests continue unabated. Any return to Daw Aung San Suu Kyi’s earlier approach of compromise would now be hard for the people to accept.
The people’s message is clear: “There’s no dialogue with murderers.” A new revolutionary generation, including many young Gen Z fighters, has now taken up arms under the banner: “Eradicate the Fascist Military.”
Though silenced and hidden from view, Daw Aung San Suu Kyi remains a powerful symbol for many. On her birthday, supporters across Myanmar—from peaceful protesters in cities to young fighters in the jungle—pray for her release and continue the struggle she led.
To this day, she remains the single figure Myanmar’s military leaders fear most. No other politician has faced such repeated arrests, violent attacks, and cruel persecution as her. She is their ultimate enemy.
The generals likely wish to eliminate her entirely. Even now, many fear she may be slowly dying in captivity as she endures cruel conditions in prison. But over the past 37 years, she has survived everything they have thrown at her—imprisonment, isolation, assassination attempts.
That is why many of her supporters call her “The Iron Rose.”
She may be frail in appearance, but her spirit is strong. She may be aging, but her resolve is sharp. She may be alone, but her mind is vigilant. She is imprisoned, but she remains calm.
I personally endured eight years as a political prisoner, so I know the pain of confinement. I wish that no one should suffer unjust imprisonment—not even for a second. I pray that Daw Aung San Suu Kyi and all political prisoners who are currently suffering will be released as soon as possible.
