The official voice of Burma’s ruling junta, theGlobal Light of Myanmar, routinely labels those fighting for freedom as “terrorists.” This week, their vitriol extended to the small nation of Timor-Leste, condemning its acceptance of a war crimes complaint against the junta’s leaders – including Senior General Min Aung Hlaing – detailing massacres, deliberate attacks on hospitals, and horrific acts of sexual violence.
The publication’s scathing rhetoric accused Timor-Leste’s President of “validating representatives of a group of terrorist grifters,” painting a picture of a resistance movement on the brink of collapse. Yet, the reality on the ground is starkly different. In response to the complaint, the junta expelled Timor-Leste’s ambassador, a clear demonstration of their desperation and disregard for international law.
Despite being drastically outgunned – facing a relentless onslaught of drones and aircraft, and crippled by a critical shortage of ammunition – the resistance continues to fight. The Free Burma Rangers recently concluded weeks of frontline medical support in Karen State, treating over one hundred wounded soldiers. The spirit of defiance remains unbroken.
This morning, a powerful image cut through the despair: two soldiers, each having lost a leg in battle, resolutely heading back into the fray. Their determination embodies the unwavering commitment of a people refusing to surrender. As one fighter simply stated, “We will not stop until Burma is free.”
The question of what to *call* this nation is more than just semantics; it’s a declaration of allegiance. I consistently refer to it as Burma, echoing the preference of the resistance fighters and the Free Burma Rangers. Those who use “Myanmar” are often aligned with the very junta they oppose.
For generations, the land was known as Burma, a name rooted in its dominant ethnic group, the Burmans. But in 1989, following a brutal crackdown on pro-democracy protests, the military junta unilaterally changed the English name to Myanmar. They claimed it was a move towards inclusivity, discarding a colonial relic.
However, in the Burmese language itself, “Myanmar” is simply a more formal version of “Burma.” The change was imposed by military decree, bypassing any legitimate public process. Opposition groups rightly view it as illegal, a symbolic act of power by an illegitimate regime.
To say “Burma” became an act of resistance, a linguistic middle finger to the generals. Aung San Suu Kyi, for years, deliberately used “Burma” for the same reason – it represented the nation *before* the military attempted to rewrite its identity. It was a claim to the true history and soul of the country.
This defiance is woven into the very fabric of the resistance. Groups like the All Burma Students’ Democratic Front (ABSDF), formed after the 1988 uprisings, proudly carry “Burma” in their name. They fled to the jungles, armed with nothing but their conviction, to fight for a free Burma.
More recently, the Burma National Revolutionary Army (BNRA) – a coalition of resistance forces – deliberately chose “Burma” to signal their rejection of the junta’s imposed identity. It’s a clear message: they are fighting for the Burma of their ancestors, not the “Myanmar” manufactured by the military.
The National Unity Government (NUG) and its armed wing, the People’s Defense Force (PDF), officially use “Myanmar,” but even within their ranks, local units and supporting legislation – like the U.S.-backed BURMA Act – continue to employ “Burma” as a symbol of the struggle.
The lines have blurred over time. While Aung San Suu Kyi and many pro-democracy advocates remain steadfast in their use of “Burma,” some ethnic armed groups now favor “Myanmar.” Their reasoning is rooted in the historical exclusion of minority groups by Burman-dominated governments.
For these groups, “Burma” evokes a past of marginalization. They argue that the focus should be on condemning “the military” and embracing “Myanmar” as a more inclusive name, recognizing the country’s 135 distinct ethnic groups.
Initially, many governments and organizations rejected “Myanmar” as a cynical attempt by the junta to legitimize its rule. But some, including The Associated Press, began to adopt the new name. The United States, however, initially maintained “Burma” as its official designation.
Even that stance softened. During a 2012 visit, President Barack Obama used both names, a gesture described by an advisor to Myanmar’s president as “very positive” and an “acknowledgement” of the junta’s government. The battle for the name, like the battle for Burma itself, continues to be fought on multiple fronts.
