Beyond Federalism? Inclusion, Citizenship, and Minorities Without Territory in Myanmar’s Spring Revolution

Abstract

Myanmar’s unofficial minorities encompass diverse religious and ethnic groups excluded from Myanmar’s list of 135 officially recognised “national races.” They face exclusion due to their citizenship status as well as societal prejudices and entrenched discrimination against minority communities. Yet, debates over politics, federalism, and power-sharing in Myanmar primarily concern the relationship between the officially recognised ethnic minorities and the majority Bamar population. The Spring Revolution has opened the door to “rethink federalism,” suggesting that moving beyond historically entrenched binaries of unity or ethnonational federalism may be on the table. Understanding how unofficial minorities face discrimination and disenfranchisement as well as inclusion, is imperative in not only imagining a new political system following a successful Spring Revolution, but in expanding the revolutionary process. Yet, discussions related to minorities and diversity have centred on the pre-coup model of ethno-nationalist federalism as a post-revolution power-sharing arrangement. With minority rights tied to increased autonomy for minority-dominated territories, how do minorities without territory meaningfully participate in or benefit from the revolution? How can the recognition of Myanmar’s unofficial minorities – an estimated 10% of the population – be ensured? “Rethinking federalism” highlights relationships between territory, citizenship, and belonging in the Spring Revolution.

Key Words:

• Coup
• minority rights
• Muslims
• political participation
• religious minorities
• taingyintha

An estimated 10% of Myanmar’s population are minorities legally excluded from citizenship by birth. This includes Tamils, Gurkhas, Chinese, Bengalis, Punjabis, Rohingyas, Telugus, Anglo-Burmese, Bayingyi, and others.¹ Instead, they must apply for citizenship and have their documents and those of their parents and grandparents “scrutinised” by the National Registration and Citizenship Department (NRCD) (Ministry of Immigration and Population 2020). While these are minoritised populations, they are not granted minority status due to their exclusion from the official list of 135 “national races” (taingyintha, also translated as “ethnic nationalities”), most of which are sub-groups of Myanmar’s eight major ethnic groups: Bamar, Chin, Karenni, Karen, Rakhine, Kachin, Shan, and Mon (see Ferguson 2015). Religious minorities, particularly Muslims and Hindus, are often deemed by authorities to be “mixed blood” or of foreign ethnicity and presumed not to be taingyintha, although many religious minorities identify as taingyintha (see Formichi 2023; Ikeya 2020; Nyi Nyi Kyaw 2019). The term “unofficial minority” thus highlights how both Myanmar’s minority and citizenship policies depend on official lists and bureaucratic interpretation of state-recognised ethnic and religious categories.

Following the 2021 military coup, stories of unofficial minorities, including Rohingya, ethnic Chinese, and Myanmar Muslims, as victims of the military junta circulated online. These news articles and social media posts highlight not only the sacrifices made during the coup for a nation that formally excludes them – from politics, education, and oftentimes, citizenship – but also the heightened risks the coup poses for minorities (for example, Frontier Myanmar, March 30 and April 16, 2021; Myanmar Now, March 7 and April 6, 2021). An impassioned funeral speech made by Daw Kyu Kyu Thin, the mother of Khant Nyar Hein, a 17-year-old ethnic Chinese medical student killed during anti-coup protests in Yangon in March 2021 went viral on social media as she highlighted both her experience of racial discrimination and her personal sacrifice for the country in the loss of her son:

I’m pure Chinese, my parents didn’t speak one word of Burmese. But Chinese from Burma and Chinese from China are not the same. We have different mindsets. Now, I’m a pure Chinese, and my son has just died. Keep that in mind. I was born in Burma. I eat Burma’s rice, I drink her water and I have a Burmese spirit (seik). Don’t be hard on us Chinese from Burma. Organise as much as you can. Now I’ve lost my son, a doctor, I’ve already paid the price.²

In response to stories like Daw Kyu Kyu Thin’s, in the months following the coup, Myanmar netizens made apologies for the historical treatment of minorities on social media (Ryan, Tran, and Swan Ye Htut 2024). Meanwhile, the Committee Representing Pyidaungsu Hluttaw (CRPH), formed to represent the elected parliament deposed via the coup, released a Federal Democracy Charter (FDC) putting forward a vision of a post-coup Myanmar following a hopefully soon-to-be victorious Spring Revolution.³ The FDC makes major breaks from the past, looking to establish a federal democracy and upholding a wide range of rights that would protect minorities, including equality, self-determination, diversity, non-discrimination, human rights, and minority rights. While put forward as a revolutionary document, the FDC continues along largely pre-2021 lines when it comes to privileging conceptions of ethnic belonging based on ideas of autochthony, encompassed in the concept of taingyintha or “national races.”⁴ Yet, the taingyintha/non-taingyintha binary has been long decried by people such as Daw Kyu Kyu Thin, left out of such a territorial and ethnic identity-based definition of belonging. Continuing in this framework, the FDC distinguishes between “citizen’s rights” for those without territorial claims – and “individual rights” and “collective rights” for “ethnic nationalities” (taingyintha in the Burmese version of the document) (CRPH Myanmar 2021).

In June 2021, the National Unity Government (NUG), essentially the cabinet appointed by the CRPH under the FDC, clarified their position on the Rohingya and citizenship following criticism from international governments and human rights groups. Despite previously declaring the 2008 Constitution null and void, demonstrating that the NUG and CRPH can abolish or repeal unjust laws, neither the NUG’s position paper nor the April 2024 statement from the National Unity Consultative Council (NUCC) abolished the 1982 Citizenship Law. While the NUG and NUCC have promised changes to citizenship legislation and promised to repeal the 1982 Law, as the full Rohingya policy has not been made public, the degree of change envisioned remains vague. The NUG statement did, however, propose a wider approach to citizenship than is currently available under the 1982 Citizenship Law, suggesting moving towards a jus soli model, basing future citizenship on birth in Myanmar, or birth outside Myanmar to Myanmar citizen parents (NUG 2021). While this was cautiously welcomed by foreign governments, activists, and Muslim communities, some were critical of the new policy, saying it did not go far enough, while others were unwilling to accept the NUG’s policy or saw it as an example of instrumentalism, suggesting that prejudice against unofficial minorities remains widespread (Frontier Myanmar, July 15, 2021; Medail and Saw Chit Thet Tun 2024; Ryan, Tran, and Swan Ye Htut 2024). Procedural citizenship is only one hurdle, substantive citizenship through recognition and inclusion is the other. With an ethno-territorial framework continuing to dominate discussions of federalism and ideas of belonging, the second hurdle remains. Sacrifices made by unofficial minorities and calls for trans-ethnic solidarity within the anti-coup uprising notwithstanding, the place of unofficial minorities in a post-coup political system remains far from settled (see Chambers and Cheesman 2024; Khin Ohmar and Thinzar Shunlei Yi 2021; Medail and Saw Chit Thet Tun 2024).

Minorities Without Territory

Recent and historical debates over federalism and power-sharing in Myanmar have framed federalism as an intra-taingyintha issue. In other words, the relationship between Myanmar’s officially recognised ethnic minorities and the majority Bamar population takes centre stage. Since the 1974 Constitution, this relationship is represented administratively by the ethnic states on the one hand (Shan, Kachin, Karenni, Karen, Rakhine, Mon, and Chin), and the Bamar-majority regions (Ayeyawaddy, Sagaing, Magwe, Tanintharyi, Bago, Mandalay, and Yangon) on the other. Both states and regions are also home to populations of unofficial minorities who are largely excluded from federalism and power-sharing debates. Following independence, excepting provisions on freedom of religion, Myanmar’s unofficial minorities have not been recognised in previous federal proposals or in post-1947 constitutions (Mosaic Myanmar 2023).

Understanding how unofficial minorities previously and currently face discrimination and disenfranchisement is imperative in not only imagining a new political system following a successful Spring Revolution, but in expanding the revolutionary process itself. Involving unofficial minority communities and leaders in discussions and decisions concerning the direction of Myanmar’s revolutionary politics is paramount to addressing decades of systemic discrimination. Yet, so far, discussions related to minorities and diversity have centred on the pre-coup model of ethno-federalism as a post-revolution power-sharing arrangement. But where do unofficial minorities sit in these discussions, both literally and metaphorically? How should we understand the inherent contradictions of a territorialising state represented by the military on the one hand, and revolutionary ideals that also rely on territorial frameworks? If a federal system sees minority rights as tied to increased autonomy for ethnic minority-dominated territories, how do minorities without territories participate in or benefit from the revolution and a post-revolution federal democracy as currently put forward?

As Maitrii Aung-Thwin (2019, 112) notes, “colonial legal legacies, especially those that conflated territory with ethnicity and ethnicity with identity, created almost insurmountable political hurdles for post-independence leaders.” Following colonialism and the impacts of colonial cartography, ethnography, political representation schemes, and census-taking, claims to ethnicity, identity, and territory became heavily entwined (Aung-Thwin 2019, 112, 119). In contemporary Myanmar, consistent and recognised territorial claims also serve as claims to citizenship under legislation that privileges taingyintha status. Without claims to territory, unofficial minorities face difficulties in making citizenship claims, an issue which previous discussions of federalism have never adequately addressed.⁵

If a post-coup political union is conceptualised around territorial claims and demarcations, how can the recognition and participation of unofficial minorities, with an estimated population of over five million, be ensured? Could the increased inclusion of “unofficial” religious and ethnic minorities in bodies such as the NUG and the NUCC provide an opening to radically rethink historically entrenched ideas about federalism and power-sharing based on ethnonationalist frameworks? Might inclusion of the historically disenfranchised allow for moving beyond the stalemates of the last 75 years? This article argues that while conversations on the shape of a post-revolution Myanmar continue to revolve around ethno-nationalist federal models, the Spring Revolution has opened the door to “rethink federalism,” suggesting that moving beyond previous binaries of unity or ethno-national federalism may be possible. The process of “rethinking federalism” fuels a wider discussion about what revolution in a Myanmar context really means, and the relationship between territory, citizenship, and belonging in the Spring Revolution.

Researching Inclusion, Citizenship, and Minorities: Methods

Previous conceptions of revolution in Myanmar’s history – both the independence movement and Ne Win’s 1962 Revolutionary Council (1962–1974) – used locally salient understandings of imperialism, foreignness, and nativity to further their revolutionary goals (Cheesman 2017, 466–467). Here, the Spring Revolution is examined from the perspective of unofficial minority communities.

This article is based on collaborative qualitative research by all the named authors and a small research team who remain unnamed due to continuing security concerns in Myanmar. Sources include Burmese language media and documents issued by the CRPH, NUCC, NUG, and the State Administration Council (SAC), the current military junta. Historical sections on previous Myanmar revolutions, political movements, and their relationship to unofficial minorities are drawn from archival materials including published and unpublished memoirs, contemporary newspapers, and embassy reports retrieved from the National Archives of India, the United Kingdom National Archives, the British Library, Berlin Staatsbibliothek, and the US Library of Congress. Lastly, three of the co-authors have been heavily involved in federalism training across Myanmar prior to the coup. The training seminars were designed to be inclusive of unofficial minorities, and training reports, materials, and experiences were analysed in this study.

Textual sources are contextualised by drawing on a dataset of 70 semi-structured family history interviews with unofficial minorities conducted primarily by phone in 2020, a further 20 interviews conducted with minority religious leaders following the coup, and participant observation by three of the Myanmar authors during the coup. To further protect researchers’ and informants’ identities during this tumultuous period, interviews were fully anonymised without a key, transcribed in Burmese, then coded for patterns of behaviour from authorities, and respondents’ common experiences in accessing citizenship documentation and engaging in politics. To preserve respondents’ voices and experiences and accurately portray them, interviews were not translated into English for analysis, but quotes used in the article were translated by the authors when writing this article. Respondents were given researchers’ phone numbers and social media handles to enable them to withdraw from the research.

The article traces the histories of inclusion and exclusion of unofficial minorities in the activities, policy, and rhetoric of Myanmar’s previous revolutions and more recent political debates around proposals for federal democracy. Tracing this history provides a window onto how unofficial minorities were involved in previous Myanmar revolutions and how the past impacts the ways in which the future is imagined, and with it, the role or place of unofficial minorities in the current revolution. After a section examining the experience and treatment of unofficial minorities in previous revolutions and plans for federalism, the focus turns to existing barriers for unofficial minorities prior to the February 2021 military coup and how these both complicate and necessitate plans for not only an inclusive federalism, but a revolution that truly accepts, incorporates, and involves unofficial minorities in the process. The second half of the article focuses on the risks unofficial minority communities currently face under the SAC administration and the ways in which unofficial minorities have contributed to the Spring Revolution. The article ends with a discussion of what the revolution could mean for unofficial minorities, and how they may participate in a non-territorial federal union.

Revolutions, Coups, and Federalism Projects

This section provides a brief outline of unofficial minorities in Myanmar’s history in terms of political imagination and participation, focusing on two key ideas that have animated politics, conflicts, and minority-majority relations: revolution and federalism. It highlights how unofficial minorities were not always unofficial and played key roles in pivotal moments in Myanmar’s national history, until the repositioning of unofficial minorities along with ethnic minorities as potentially disloyal following Ne Win’s 1962 coup.

While the period of military rule following the 1988 uprising is not directly addressed in this section, later in the article, respondents detail how religion came to be further racialised in official policy, with the ranks of unofficial minorities expanding to include Muslims of any ethnic background, including taingyintha. Following the historical contextualisation, the article discusses contemporary popular discussions on federalism, and the importance of the incorporation of unrecognised minority groups into ongoing conversations on federalism and revolution.

Burma Muslims as “National Minorities” in the Independence Movement

As Walton (2020, 86) remarked, the 1940s and 1950s was a “moment of inter-religious possibility” in Burmese politics and society. At the Anti-Fascist People’s Freedom League’s (AFPFL) January 1946 Congress in Rangoon, attended by an estimated 20,000–30,000 people (according to the British), or 100,000 (according to Aung San), it was decided that the League’s council would consist of leaders from each affiliated party or group, each district, and 10–20 selected political leaders (Silverstein 1993: 77; The National Archives of the UK 1946b).⁶ U Abdul Razak, a school superintendent, President of the Burma Muslim Congress, and head of the Mandalay AFPFL chapter, was among those elected to AFPFL leadership as a prominent political leader. He later served on the pre-independence Executive Council, Burma’s interim government.

In his speech to the AFPFL Congress, Aung San directly addressed Burma’s Chinese and Indian communities:

I want also to address the Indians and Chinese residing in this country. To them I say: we have no bitterness, no ill-will toward them, or for that matter toward any race and nationality in the world. If they choose to join us, we will welcome them as our own brethren. If they desire to help us as good friends, and neighbours only, again we shall be glad to reciprocate their friendship and sympathy. But they must be careful not to be made pawns in the game of our internal politics … They must choose and choose once and for all whether they will be our friends or foes. They cannot be both. To Europeans we say, we still offer our hand of friendship but that relation cannot definitely be on the present basis of master and servant. It must be only on terms of equality (cited in Silverstein 1993, 102).

In the same conference, the Resolution VI on “indigenous minorities” applauded Burma Muslims’ role in the independence movement and gave them the status and rights of a national minority alongside Chins, Karens, Shans, and Kachins (The National Archives of the UK 1946b). Three Burma Muslims from Rangoon, U Aung Sein, U Pe Khin, and U Khin Maung Lat were elected to the AFPFL Supreme Council as national minorities alongside Arakanese and Karen representatives. With the addition of U Razak, Muslims accounted for four of the 91 seats on the AFPFL’s leadership council, elected as both individuals and minority representatives (The National Archives of the UK 1946b). Many more Burma Muslims, ethnic Chinese, and Hindus were AFPFL members and active participants in the conference and the work of the organisation (Walton 2020, 86–87; The National Archives of the UK 1946a). Both the Burma Muslim Congress, the Burma Chinese Association, and the Chinese Merited Association were AFPFL members prior to independence (The National Archives of the UK 1946a). As Aung San remarked in his speech to the crowd:

What then constitutes nationalism? The main factor is having to lead one common life – sharing joys and sorrows, developing common interests and one or more common things like racial or linguistic communities, fostering common traditions of having been and being one which gives us a consciousness of oneness and the necessity of that oneness. Race, religion, and language are thus by themselves not primary factors which go into the making of a nation but the historic necessity of having to lead a common life that is the pivotal principle of nationality and nationalism (cited in Silverstein 1993, 104).

This is not to suggest that the AFPFL was fully embracing all identities within Burma. As Walton (2020, 71–72) notes, Burma Muslim identities were sometimes positioned as against Urduisation. However, this account does suggest a wider-net approach to Burmese national identity than seen in later years (Nyi Nyi Kyaw 2019, 354).

Unofficial minorities in Panglong and the 1947 Constitution

This section briefly explores the roles of unofficial minorities in the Panglong Agreement and the Aung San-Attlee Agreement, two key moments on the path to independence and major touchstones in the history of Burmese conceptions of federalism. Both Walton (2008) and Smith (1991) have called for fuller, multiple, and alternative histories of Panglong from varied perspectives. One such perspective is the role of unofficial minorities in this key and much mythologised “federating moment” (South 2021, 444). Crouch (2020) uses the concept of “Constitutional touchstones” in examining key historical developments and documents that inform constitution-making in Myanmar. Following Crouch’s (2020, 1353) emphasis on the “centrality of history,” key historical moments or “touchstones” in building contemporary Burmese conceptions of federalism and their relationship to unofficial minorities, are highlighted.

As already intimated, Muslim AFPFL members played important roles in AFPFL leadership, as well as key resolutions of the 1946 AFPFL Conference, which led to the Aung San–Attlee and Panglong Agreements and, a year later, Burmese independence. In the context of post-Second World War controls on travel, Resolution III of the conference requested that a delegation travel to England to directly negotiate for independence. This was proposed by U Ba Thi and supported by Ko Nyi Nyi, a Burma Muslim AFPFL member (The National Archives of the UK 1946b). The resolution eventually led to Aung San’s visit to London in January 1947 to negotiate and sign the Aung San–Attlee Agreement, setting the pathway and timeline for Burmese independence (Smith 1991, 77).

Shortly thereafter, the Panglong Conference between the leaders of “Burma Proper” – areas previously administered directly by British Burma as “Ministerial Burma” – and minority leaders from Chin, Kachin, and Shan areas took place, in February 1947, about 11 months prior to independence. During the Conference, Aung San and Chin, Kachin, and Shan leaders reached an agreement to designate the “Frontier Areas.” These were occupied mostly by ethnic minority groups and had been administered separately from “Burma Proper” during the colonial period, with full autonomy for internal administration. There was an AFPFL belief that there was strength in unity, and that if the Frontier Areas and Burma pushed for independence together they would achieve it together, whereas continued negotiations between the British and Frontier Areas would postpone independence for both (Smith 1991, 75; The National Archives of the UK 1946b).

The Panglong Agreement, which saw the formation of an independent union between the territories separately administered by the British as “Ministerial Burma” and the “Frontier Areas,” is much storied and mythologised (Walton 2008). It is referred to as “a crucial step towards Burma’s independence from colonial rule” by Crouch (2016). Crucial to the Panglong story is that the building blocks for the agreement came from the AFPFL conference’s Resolution VII on Excluded Areas. This resolution was introduced by U Pe Kin, elected to the AFPFL’s Supreme Council as a representative of the “National minority” group of Burma Muslims (The National Archives of the UK 1946b). The resolution called for self-determination and for decisions on future incorporation (or not) of the Frontier Areas into Burma to be made by representatives of Burma and leaders in the Frontier Areas and not by the British government.

U Pe Kin, whose family lived in Taunggyi, in Shan State, was selected to serve as the AFPFL’s Secretary of the Frontier Areas, and in 1947 he became one of the Panglong architects and negotiators. In his memoir, U Pe Kin discusses how Aung San wanted to leave Panglong once he realised that the Shan sawbwas (hereditary leaders) wanted autonomy and continuance of what he saw as a feudal system. In response, U Pe Kin and his old friend, U Tin Aye, then head of the Shan Freedom Organisation (and later signatory of the Panglong Agreement), spread word that Aung San was leaving and initiated a public demonstration, convincing two major sawbwas to meet again with Aung San (Pe Kin 1994, 48).

The first draft 1947 Constitution drawn up by the AFPFL and based on the Panglong Agreement, was submitted for discussion at the Constituent Assembly elected to draft the Constitution. However, following the July 1947 assassination of Aung San and his ministers, including U Razak, who held the pre-independence portfolios for education and national planning, significant changes to the federal relationship were included in the 1947 Constitution’s final form drafted by Attorney General Chan Htoon (see, for example, Coffey 2023, 8; Crouch 2019, 20; Crouch 2020, 1358–1359; Sakhong 2005, 17). These changes were perceived by some ethnic leaders as not honouring the Panglong Agreement; the status of other ethnic groups, like the Karen, were to be sorted out after independence, while the Mon and Arakanese were not mentioned (Smith 1991, 78; Williams 2009, 1663–1664). The 1947 Constitution retained characteristics of federalism, including the right to secede within ten years following independence afforded only to Shan and Karenni States – the only Constitution in the world at the time to include such a provision, outside of the USSR (Silverstein 1958, 43). Yet scholars consider it to be a constitution creating a semi-unitary state (Crouch 2019, 20).

Another key difference between the AFPFL draft and the final 1947 Constitution is that the former contained provisions to recognise national minorities as any non-Burmans making up 10% of the population, not requiring residence in a particular region or territorial homeland (Crouch 2020, 1358). This definition of national minority created possibilities for Gurkhas, Hindus, and others to be recognised as national minorities alongside Burma Muslims. However, neither Burma Muslims, Hindus, nor Gurkhas were explicitly recognised as national minorities in the 1947 Constitution. This was a pivotal omission, as the Constitution’s Section 11 granted citizenship to those with taingyintha ancestors and allowed for others to elect for citizenship within the prescribed time period under statutory provisions, provided they met other requirements (see Rhoads 2023b; Rhoads and Das 2024; Yegar 1972, 73–74).⁷ Seeing the difficulties of accessing citizenship for those categorised as outside of the taingyintha framework, both Burma Muslims and Gurkhas made explicit and formal claims of national minority status (Yegar 1972, 73–74). For example, in a 1951 speech to a Gurkha Rally in Myitkyina, Man Bahadur Limbu, the General Secretary of the All-Burma Nepali Association, declared:

It is known to everyone that we Gurkhas have no voice in the country although everyone feels that Gurkhas should be regarded as a community of this country. Though we may not be citizens of the Union technically, we had declared ourselves as such as soon as the country won its freedom, after which we have proved by our deed that we were worthy to be so named. We had fought the country’s enemies ever since insurrections begun without even considering about our political status (Union Gazette, March 3, 1951).

For unofficial minority communities, promises in the AFPFL draft and from Panglong continued to have relevance and were used to stake claims to belonging and minority status. For example, in 1961 Burma Muslims joined with Baptists, animists, and other religious minorities in establishing the “National Religious Minorities Alliance” in opposition to U Nu’s drive to make Buddhism the state religion, which they saw as violating the “Panglong spirit” (Trager 1963, 314).

Unofficial minorities were involved in touchstone moments in Myanmar’s independence struggle, including pushing for negotiations with both the British and the Frontier Areas for independence and U Razak’s assassination alongside Aung San. During U Nu’s government (1947–1962), Burma Muslims and Indians had leadership roles, including as members of parliament (MPs), cabinet ministers, and ambassadors. After Panglong, U Pe Kin continued his government service as ambassador to Pakistan and later Thailand – important posts for independent Burma – followed by his appointment as Burma’s permanent representative at the United Nations in 1956. Others included U Khin Maung Lat, a lawyer and Burma Muslim Congress president, who served as a member of the AFPFL Supreme Council, parliamentary secretary to U Razak, and Minister of Justice from 1950 to 1958, Sultan Mahmud from Arakan who served as Minister of Health (1960–1962), and U Raschid from Rangoon who had multiple roles, including Minister of Mines, Minister for Housing, Labour, and National Planning, Minister of Trade and Development, and Minister of Commerce and Industry. He was born in Allahabad in Uttar Pradesh but grew up in Burma, becoming a pre-independence student leader, heading both the Rangoon University Students’ Union and the All-Burma Students’ Union. U Raschid chose Burmese nationality at independence. His brother M.A. Rauf served as India’s first ambassador to Burma following independence (Kozicki 1959, 256, 363). However, like other ideas stemming from the independence movement, such as autonomy and a wide-net approach to nationalism, after Ne Win’s 1962 coup, policy towards Muslims and particularly Burmese of Indian descent changed dramatically.

Ne Win and the Revolutionary Council’s policies towards unofficial minorities

Scholars such as Crouch (2019, 22–23; 2020, 1359–1360) and Silverstein (1980, 228) suggest that Ne Win used the pretext of the “federal proposal” from the Shan State Steering Committee to launch his 1962 military coup. This is supported by contemporary reports from local newspapers such as The Guardian (March 3, 1962), The Nation (March 8, 1962), and Oway (March 3, 1962). The Steering Committee was formed with the intent to perpetuate the Union by pushing for a more federal union by returning to a constitutional arrangement more closely resembling the 1947 AFPFL draft and the Panglong Agreement. In particular, the Steering Committee called for the establishment of a Bamar State rather than “Burma Proper” assuming the powers of the Union government, increased states’ rights and representation, and equal revenue sharing (Sai Aung Tun 2009, 380). Ne Win’s coup led to the detention of many of the supporters and leaders of the federalist movement, perhaps most famously, the Shan sawbwas (Crouch 2019, 22; The Nation, March 3, 1962).⁸ Following the coup, discussions of federalism, seen as akin to calling for the disintegration of the union, were not permitted (Cheesman 2023, 18–19; Crouch 2020, 1354).

Hijacking over a decade of contentious politics and grassroots movements to democratise the Shan States, the Revolutionary Council framed itself as continuing the unfinished revolution, overthrowing imperialism and feudalism, and “Burmanising” the economy (Silverstein 1980, 214–216; Yawnghwe 1987, 109–122). The Shan sawbwas were quickly taken into custody, one sawbwa’s son was murdered and another sawbwa disappeared. In silencing the Shan opposition, the military leadership drastically changed the federalism story to one of the military’s efforts to combat feudalism. Immediately following the coup, Brigadier Aung Gyi held multiple press conferences and declared: “There is no minority problem, only a feudalist conspiracy” (The Nation, September 29, 1962). He said of the sawbwas: “It is not a federation they want, but perpetuation of feudalism, because of the 25 seats reserved to them in the Nationalities [one of the legislative chambers], the sawbwas are using the Constitution as a shield for feudalism” (The Nation, September 29, 1962).

The military coup truncated the diverse class and ethnic grassroots struggles for democratisation and political reform in the Shan States (Sai Aung Tun 2009, 327–375). The harsh treatment of the sawbwas and the military’s vehement opposition to federalism equated calls for federalism along ethnic lines with struggles for democracy and equality.⁹ The coup and the associated anti-federalism rhetoric emphasised ethnic identity as a major fault line, and by focusing the rhetoric on ethnic federalism, positioned religious and other minorities without territory outside the primary political debate.

Following the 1962 coup, Ne Win’s “Burmanisation” campaign attempted to reclaim Burma’s economy from “foreign” control. Burmanisation meant a consolidation and nationalisation of much of the economy. This included banks, manufacturing, import-export businesses, and domestic trade, with restrictions on import licences that permitted only Burmese firms to import specific goods (The Guardian, September 29, 1962). Burmanisation extended beyond the economic sphere, with contracts of foreign doctors and others working for the government cancelled, as these positions were to be filled by Burmese, and remittances from Burma to foreign countries banned (The Guardian, May 20, 1962; The Guardian, May 23, 1963). Private schools teaching in English and other languages were nationalised and political parties and associations were banned, with the exception of religious associations (Rhoads 2019, 161).

Trade – both domestic and international – was largely in the hands of South Asian and Chinese entrepreneurs, most of whom were Burmese citizens, born in Burma, or had made Burma their permanent home (Butwell 1972, 908). As Yawnghwe (1990, 24) notes, Burmanisation policies largely ignored their contributions to national integration:

these “foreign” traders and middlemen had served, through their country-wide activities, not only to link regions with regions, towns with villages, and as well, the Burma with the Shan, the Shan with the Kachin … they had in the process, also widened the use of Burmese … and had consequently made the various segments and ethnic groups more aware of their interdependence …

The major blows to the South Asian and ethnic Chinese trading communities were the 1963 Enterprises Nationalisation Law allowing the Revolutionary Council to nationalise private enterprise on a sectoral or company basis, and the 1964 demonetisation which wiped out traders’ cash reserves. The result was the exodus of hundreds of thousands of people of South Asian descent, leaving behind those too socially embedded in Burma or too poor to leave (Brown 2013, 209; Egreteau 2014; Rhoads 2019, 160–161).

The limited federal provisions and the approach to citizenship in the 1947 Constitution sharply contrast with the 1974 Constitution, drafted by the military’s Burma Socialist Programme Party (BSPP). The 1974 Constitution is one of a centralised state, albeit with more sub-national level territories, administratively divided into seven states and seven regions. For unofficial minorities, there are other reasons why the 1974 Constitution is a touchstone moment in the ways in which they have been officially imagined and positioned as outside the Union. In contrast to the 1947 Constitution Section 11(ii), which defines citizens as those born in Burma and having at least one taingyintha grandparent, the 1974 Constitution Section 145a defines citizens as those born of two taingyintha parents and those already citizens via existing laws on the date the Constitution came into force (Socialist Republic of the Union of Burma 1974, Section 145b). Section 177 requires that all MPs be born of two citizen parents. As the Union of Burma was only 27 years old at the time, and proving one’s parents’ citizenship before citizenship had even been established is a difficult and highly theoretical exercise requiring significant documentation, this effectively meant that parliamentarians were limited to those with two taingyintha parents.

Following Ne Win’s coup, the wait times for naturalisation under the 1948 Union Citizenship Act became exceedingly long; it is unclear if this was due to state policy, an under-resourcing of government departments, or ineptitude. One interviewee, Daw Aye Myint, now in her late 60s, applied for citizenship twice before 1982. The first time, in the early 1970s, she joined her parents’ naturalisation application with her siblings. However, the wait was so long that her mother died before her citizenship card was issued, and Daw Aye Myint turned 18 before her father’s citizenship was granted, disqualifying her from being listed on his citizenship certificate. The authorities told her that since she was of age, she must apply to naturalise as an adult. She re-submitted her application in 1975, but by 1982 when a new citizenship law was promulgated, she had yet to receive a decision on her application. She finally received an Associate Citizen’s Scrutiny Card (ACSC) in 1989, 14 years after initially applying for citizenship as an adult, and after the birth of several of her children to a parent with no proof of citizenship. Although her husband holds a pink Citizenship Scrutiny Card (CSC) denoting full citizenship, and all of Daw Aye Myint’s parents and siblings hold pink cards, her oldest children were listed as having one “foreign” parent and were added to her ACSC when it was issued. As adults, despite all four of their grandparents having Myanmar citizenship, due to their inclusion on her ACSC when it was issued in 1989, Daw Aye Myint’s children received ACSCs (known as “blue cards” due to their colour), as well.

As Cheesman (2017, 467) has documented through his genealogy of the “taingyintha truth regime,” the Citizenship Law codified the elevation of taingyintha status as key to political membership. With the 1982 Citizenship Law’s emphasis on taingyintha, non-taingyintha minority groups experienced increased discrimination in accessing, acquiring, and passing on citizenship rights as only taingyintha are citizens by birth. While the 1982 Law declared that all those who were already citizens remained citizens, under Section 6 of the Law, documentary proof of citizenship was often required (Socialist Republic of the Union of Burma 1982). The Law created new categories of citizen, citizens by birth (reserved for taingyintha), citizens, associate citizens (eh-naing-ngan-tha or “guest citizen” in Burmese) and naturalised citizens (naing-ngan-tha pyu-kwin-ya-thu or “permitted citizen”) (see Nyi Nyi Kyaw 2015, 55).

Throughout the Revolutionary Council and BSPP period (1974–1988), there was an emphasis on freedom of religion – the 1974 Constitution, in contrast to others, did not reserve a special place for Buddhism. Although Ne Win was highly sensitive to the involvement of “potential foreigners” (Rhoads and Das 2024), or those with filial ties with citizens of other countries, in “the affairs of the country” (Working People’s Daily October 8, 1982), the state continued to recognise religious minorities as taingyintha. For example, U Pe Kin continued his diplomatic career, with appointments as ambassador to the Soviet Union and Singapore after 1962. Furthermore, the 1983 Census returned ethnic and religious categories such as: Karen Muslim, Shan Muslim, Burmese Muslim, Other Indigenous Muslim, Other Indigenous Hindu, Burmese Hindu, and more (Socialist Republic of the Union of Burma 1986, 1987). These groups were listed alongside data on taingyintha religions, suggesting that at least at this time, religious adherence did not suggest one was “mixed blood” (see Rhoads and Das 2024).

Federalism in political imaginaries

Federalism has remained at the centre of political discourse and political processes since the pre-independence era (see Walton 2008). Its political significance derives from its potential for resolving the long civil wars between successive Bamar-dominated central governments and diverse sub-national Ethnic Armed Organisations/Ethnic Revolutionary Organisations (EAOs/EROs). In general, EAOs/EROs demand self-determination, equality, and a higher level of self-rule or independence in response to the perceived threat of central governments’ coercively assimilative and subjugating policies (see Gravers 2004). The centrality of these armed and political movements is evident in previous constitution-building, ceasefires, and peace processes. However, EROs’ participation in these processes remained dependent on invitations from the central government which continued to brand some organisations (such as the Arakan Army) as unlawful, limiting formal participation and dialogue concerning the making of a future Myanmar to only those groups approved by the central government (Cheesman 2023, 20).

Even though attempts to amend the 2008 Constitution to provide for greater decentralisation were made by the National League for Democracy (NLD) administration between 2014 and 2020, these fell short as little or no significant agreement was reached between the military and the elected representatives to create foundations for federal democracy. The 2015 Nationwide Ceasefire Agreement, a formal peace process inclusive of the elected government and the military as well as the invited EAOs, political parties, and civil society organisations, also failed to reach substantial agreements on the inclusiveness, federal principles, and security sector arrangements (Gum San Awng et al. 2019; Burma News International, May 21, 2019).

Debates on federalism, civic territorial federalism, and ethno-federalism have existed at the heart of the exchanges of Myanmar’s political elites, intelligentsia, activists, and peacebuilders. During the time of the National Convention drafting the 2008 Constitution, several alternative constitution drafting projects took place outside Myanmar. Some called for federalism as a pathway to resolve the ongoing ethnic conflicts through sub-national level parallel multicultural nation-building processes derived from state constitutions legitimised by and occurring under the state-building process of the federal constitution (see Williams and Sakhong 2005). Proponents of ethno-federalism saw these as the best way to accommodate ethnic minority nationalities’ political aspirations (Lian 2012). However, during Myanmar’s “transitional decade” (2011–2021) concerns were raised that ethno-federalism and importing federal models from abroad could not address Myanmar’s social and political diversity nor include various stakeholders outside of the political elites (Min Zin 2018).

Myanmar’s experience is indicative of the direction of scholarship on the use of federalism as a tool of both governance and for solving long-standing political issues. There is a growing body of scholarship on federalism, as a tool for achieving unity in diversity (Anderson 2012), for the protection of minorities (Mengie 2016), and conflict resolution or transformation (Keil 2012). Yet, recent comparative research suggests that “the complexity of conflict needs to be matched by the complexity of solutions to these conflicts” (Keil and Alber 2020, 330). Mengie (2016) suggests that pure ethno-federalism that is ahistorical and without consideration of economic and social factors has the potential to harden differences and worsen conflicts. Gagnon (2021, 102) has called for moving beyond ethno-federalism – or “federations structured around ethnically divided groups” towards a multinational federalism based on the politics of recognition. Others have called for dropping multinational federalism altogether, in favour of “multicultural federalism” (Marko 2020, 418). Scholars such as Mengie (2016) push for a revision to ethno-federalist models, arguing that accommodating diversity at the state level is crucial for the legitimacy and effectiveness of shared federal institutions as well as ensuring regional protection of minorities from the domination of majorities within a state.

Despite this rich international literature, the needs and inclusion of unofficial minorities in Myanmar’s federalism discussions have remained under-studied. The political reality of Myanmar in combination with the literature’s emphasis on decades-long civil war between successive central governments and sub-national ethnic minority nationalities has elevated the role of EAOs/EROs and conceptions of ethnic belonging above groups not recognised as taingyintha. Consequently, “inclusion” in the formal participation of crafting a future federal democracy has essentially become the inclusion of key EAOs/EROs, political parties, civil society organisations, and leaders of respective ethnic minority nationalities. Unofficial minorities have long been documented as victims of armed conflicts (see Crouch 2016, 26–27; National Archives of India 1949).¹⁰ This has included conflicts occurring during key citizenship application deadlines complicating, if not barring, many Indians and Chinese from accessing Burmese citizenship, with long-term consequences (Rhoads 2023b). However, stereotyping these groups as non-combatants, coupled with lack of a territorial homeland has largely sidelined unofficial minorities, excluding them from key political discussions.

Unofficial minorities are rarely found in research and policy discussions on armed conflict, peace-building, and federalism in Myanmar. Despite multiple reports and articles published on federalism and constitutions since the coup, only one addresses the situation of minorities without territory (Sai Wansai 2024).¹¹ As Loong (2023, 139) writes: “In Myanmar, struggles for democracy (in the centre) and ethnonationalism (in its peripheries) have long run on separate tracks.” Yet, Loong also notes that in the Spring Revolution, ethno-nationalism, conflict, democracy, and politics – seen as separate fields with distinct actors during the transition period – combine. A change in status quo, or perhaps a return to some of the debates and lessons of pre-transition politics, is required to account for unofficial minorities’ roles in the Spring Revolution and their inclusion in post-revolution political membership (see Chambers and Cheesman 2024).

The consequence of an ethnocentric approach based on the state-recognised list of about 135 taingyintha is the exclusion of others deemed “guests” or “outsiders.” In addition to discriminatory and exclusive laws, policies, and institutional practices, political and legal exclusions lead to and reinforce societal prejudices and discrimination (see, for example, EMReF 2019; Mosaic Myanmar 2023; Nyi Nyi Kyaw 2015, 2017). The following sections detail the challenges faced by unofficial minority communities and how this may impact any future federal system following a successful revolution.

Long-term Impacts of Discrimination and Exclusion

There has been much scholarly criticism of the 1982 Citizenship Law as discriminatory and leading to statelessness (Brinham 2019; Nyi Nyi Kyaw 2015, 2017; Rhoads 2023b). But the impacts of the implementation of the Law also have long-term consequences on political participation and civic engagement. Unofficial minorities have been historically excluded from key resources, decision-making, and participation in politics and government since the 1962 coup, with exclusion increasingly formalised during the BSPP era through the 1974 Constitution and the 1982 Citizenship Law. Following the 1988 coup, exclusion became even more extreme, albeit, in some ways, less formal. In the 20-year period without a constitution (1988–2008), there was little clarity on the rules and regulations impacting unofficial minorities, with exclusionary processes related to the civil service, land and property acquisition, and citizenship often in the form of secret internal departmental directives or municipal policies and regulations (The Myanmar Times, April 11, 2014; Mawkun 2019; Rhoads 2023a, 132–139).

Political participation

Multiple Revolutionary Council decrees began a pattern of exclusion from politics and leadership that continued under the BSPP, the post-1988 junta State Law and Order Restoration Council (SLORC) and its successor the State Peace and Development Council (SPDC), and governments under the 2008 Constitution. For example, Section 13 of the 1973 Elections Law for state, division, township, ward, or village tract people’s councils prohibited naturalised citizens with two foreign parents or naturalised citizens born before one or both parents naturalised from running as candidates (Union of Burma Revolutionary Council 1973). Due to the ages of candidates, and the length of time to process naturalisation applications in the 1950s, this effectively limited non-taingyintha candidates to those who were citizens by birth.¹²

While the 1974 Constitution already limited MPs to those with two citizen parents, after 1982, limitations on non-taingyintha involvement in politics and state affairs increased. Over the next 30 years, conceptions of taingyintha narrowed to exclude religious minorities (Bamar Muslims, Karen Muslims, and so on) while categories of “potential foreigners” or “domestic foreigners” – as several research participants reported being called by immigration officials – widened (Rhoads and Das 2024). Egreteau (2011, 35) has argued that Burmese Indophobia shifted to a form of Islamophobia, while similarly Saha (2013) has argued that the “slippage” between race and religion has deep roots across political and historical contexts. Such slippage between race and religion and Indophobia and Islamophobia allowed, over time, for the repositioning of Burmese Muslims as non-taingyintha (see Hooker 2012; Ikeya 2020; Nyi Nyi Kyaw 2015).

Passed following the 1982 Citizenship Law, Section 8(ii) of the 1989 Pyithu Hluttaw Election Law limited candidates to full citizens whose parents were also citizens (Union of Myanmar State Law and Order Restoration Council 1989).¹³ The law recognised the recent shift in legal definitions of citizenship and that, to account for the ages of candidates, the barely 40 years of independence, and the practice of Burmese citizenship, the definition of “citizen parents” would need to expand. Section 8(ii)’s provisions state:

Those with two citizen parents, or if the parents have passed away would have been granted automatic citizenship under the 1948 Union Citizenship Law if they were alive, or both parents were citizens at the time of their deaths, or if one parent is taingyintha and the other parent passed away before the promulgation of the 1982 Citizenship Law, would have been permitted to apply for citizenship at the time of their death.

These provisions not only barred naturalised and associate citizens from candidacy in the 1990 elections, but barred those whose parents died before CSCs were widely available. For example, a third generation ethnic Chinese or South Asian citizen whose parents may have applied under the 1948 Union Citizenship Act but passed away before receiving the documentation (as Daw Aye Myint’s mother above), or those who did not apply but would have been eligible for naturalisation after 1982, would have been excluded.

When the Pyithu Hluttaw Election Law was revised in 2010, Section 8(b) required that candidates for the national legislature be citizens born of two citizen parents. The outcome was that there are not only fewer eligible Muslim, Hindu, and ethnic Chinese candidates, but a considerable generational gap. As CSCs, the document used to show definitive proof of citizenship, were only issued after the SLORC came to power in 1988, unofficial minorities born before their parents were issued CSCs can have difficulty proving they are born of two citizen parents. Disqualification of unofficial minority candidates who could not prove both their parents were citizens at the time of their birth was seen in the 2020 elections (Radio Free Asia, October 14, 2020).

Despite three types of citizenship existing post-1982, local administrators under the 2012 Ward and Village Administration Law, must be full citizens, excluding associate and naturalised citizens from local governance structures. While Section 4(a) of the 2010 Political Parties Registration Law allowed for parties to be established by any type of citizen, including Temporary Registration Card holders, under the 2014 Political Parties Registration Law, only full citizens can establish parties, potentially curtailing unofficial minority leadership in establishing new parties that represent their concerns. In the 2023 Political Parties Registration Law, the junta has largely retained the text related to citizenship in the 2014 Law.

Even for those with CSCs allowing them to legally be involved in political parties and to run as candidates, a history of violence and exclusion of unofficial minorities has made many reluctant to be directly involved in politics. The historical violence perpetrated against particularly Chinese, South Asian, and Muslim communities as well as the structural violence in the form of the 1982 Citizenship Law and other regulations reminds these communities of Ne Win’s proclamation that these groups should not be involved in “the destiny of the State” (Working People’s Daily, October 8, 1982). As one ethnic Chinese ACSC-holder explained:

When my mother was young there were Sino-Burmese riots and Chinese people were killed, so it became that if you are interested in politics, you will suffer. That’s why no one does it. They just stick to business. After the Sino-Burmese riots, Chinese were not given any space [by the Bamar]. I have a childhood friend who looks really Chinese, and actually really is Chinese, but her CSC says Bamar. No matter how much you ask her about it she says she is Bamar. Her parents told her to do that because they worry about being oppressed in a Bamar environment.

Due to historical disenfranchisement and progressive exclusion from party politics since the 1960s, there are few unofficial minorities in party and political leadership (Mosaic Myanmar 2023, 15–17). Over the last 30 years, unofficial minorities involved in social work or politics have increasingly come from religious, cultural, business, or civil society organisations, rather than party politics. To account for historical grievances as well as long-term exclusion from party politics, inclusion of unofficial minorities in revolutionary change and future governance will need to reach beyond existing party-based groupings.

Civil service

Unofficial minorities are largely barred from working in the civil service through a variety of measures related to citizenship. Civil servants start their careers in government training programmes. These only accept students who hold CSCs and will reject or expel those carrying naturalised citizenship scrutiny cards (NCSCs) or ACSCs. The rationale is that the holders of NCSCs and ACSCs will have at least one parent not considered a citizen by birth under current and previous citizenship laws and holders of these cards would have had to apply for citizenship under the 1948 or 1982 Citizenship Laws. ACSC holders who study medicine or dentistry are not usually placed in government service, a general requirement for obtaining a licence, making it difficult or impossible to practice their profession. ACSC holders who want to join the public healthcare sector require an appeal letter in addition to their application. If they complete all the steps and make it to an interview, applicants with NCSCs or ACSCs may be denied a place in the civil service at the interview stage once their citizenship documentation is further scrutinised. Although the civil service formally claims not to discriminate on the grounds of nationality, race, or religion, the service’s application form requires a CSC number, highlighting that ACSC and NCSC numbers are not likely to be accepted (Mosaic Myanmar 2023, 27).

Ma Aye Aye’s case illustrates the restrictions on unofficial minorities in the civil service and the impacts on livelihoods and educational pathways. Ma Aye Aye, now in her forties, was born in Myanmar, as were both her parents, and three of her four grandparents. Yet, Ma Aye Aye holds an ACSC, demarcating her status as someone who is not a full citizen. Her family is Muslim, and her grandfather on her father’s side was from a region that was in India but is now in Bangladesh, but her father’s mother was from Ayeyawaddy Division, as were both of her mother’s parents. Her mother has a pink-coloured CSC, but her father holds an ACSC. Her paternal grandfather held a Foreigner Registration Certificate, demarcating him as a foreign citizen. Ma Aye Aye’s father applied for Myanmar citizenship under the 1948 Citizenship Act before 1982 but was still awaiting an outcome when the 1982 Citizenship Law came into effect. Ma Aye Aye was born in 1982, so her father did not have any citizenship documentation at the time of her birth, as citizenship documentation under the new law was not issued until after 1988. This meant that according to the 1982 Law, Ma Aye Aye was not born of two citizen parents, and thus is ineligible for full citizenship. When her father finally received his ACSC, she was registered as a minor under his application and became an associate citizen as well. Due to her status as an associate citizen, when she finally received her own ACSC as an 18-year-old, she had to drop out of the government training college she was attending, as the programme was for full citizens only. She stated:

On the blue card [ACSC] it says that the card gives the same rights as citizens, but I felt so humiliated. If I had been a full citizen, I could have continued school. But because of my “guest” citizen status, I couldn’t. In my third year of government training college, at enrolment for the exam, I was expelled. I didn’t lie to them about my status, I showed them my card. Because I had someone in my family who held a Foreigner Registration Certificate – just that one person – I was expelled.

After Ma Aye Aye was expelled, she was told she could only apply for a regular BA programme (in English, Myanmar, or other Arts and Humanities subjects). She now works as a tutor, but if she had been allowed to continue the government training college programme, she would have gone on to engineering school, and as a government engineer, her livelihood would be much improved over what she can make providing after-school tuition. Even though her lost educational and career opportunities weigh heavily on her, in some ways Ma Aye Aye still counts herself lucky to have attended university for her bachelor’s degree as she says some of her friends have had to drop out or undertake distance education.

Not only are unofficial minorities often excluded from the civil service, but they are also less likely to be educated or work alongside senior government bureaucrats or officials. They therefore have less experience in governance and less informal access to those in positions of power through education, kinship, or employment networks. The general absence of unofficial minorities in the civil service means that government staff are less familiar with issues these minority communities face and less familiar with their histories (Rhoads 2023b, 50). This long-term lack of integration in decision-making circles is apparent in current discussions of federalism in resistance circles, which continue to think in terms of territorial organisation, and political rights and autonomy of “national” minorities.

Post-coup: Immobilisation, Exclusion, and Participation

Restrictions in everyday life faced by unofficial minorities have increased following the 2021 coup in most areas of the country.¹⁴ Travel restrictions instituted by the SAC include military checkpoints inspecting CSCs and cargo and the registration of all overnight guests in private homes. These restrictions on freedom of movement are similar to previous periods of military rule, but currently checkpoints are more numerous, and travellers are subjected to far more robust inspections.

Most serious for unofficial minorities, following a SAC order in April 2022, anyone over 16 years old travelling domestically must have a CSC (Radio Free Asia, March 6, 2022). The order was distributed to all major bus, train, and airline operators. This creates additional restrictions for unofficial minorities who have long had difficulties in accessing official documentation. The impacts of the travel order are compounded by the fact that those who do not have a CSC, often must travel to collect documents to prove ancestors’ citizenship and residency to even apply for a CSC.¹⁵ As children of NCSC and ACSC holders cannot apply for their own cards until they turn 18, the SAC’s travel order essentially confines tens of thousands of unofficial minority youth to their townships of residence.

Unofficial minority women and youth, being disproportionately without civil documentation before the coup, are at higher risk during the coup and more likely to face harassment, arbitrary detention, prolonged immobility, and be subject to unsafe travel routes to avoid checkpoints when fleeing conflict or traveling for medical care. Some Muslims may face scrutiny at checkpoints due either to their physical appearance or their clothing (Mosaic Myanmar 2023). Online anti-Muslim propaganda and conspiracy theories single Muslims out as potential “combatants,” “bombers,” and “terrorists” (Frontier Myanmar, June 28, 2021). This rhetoric and disinformation subjects Myanmar Muslims to further searches of their bodies, telephones, and vehicles, and may result in detention, fines, or bribes when passing through checkpoints, particularly for those without CSCs (Mosaic Myanmar 2023). The re-introduction of mandatory guest registration following the coup disproportionately impacts unofficial minorities as they were most likely to be without a CSC or a household registration list and as such may need to register as a guest in their own homes.

In May 2021 the SAC launched Pann Khin, a new registration drive to issue civil documentation. The programme is claimed to be a “one-stop-shop” which supplies household lists and CSCs to migrant households and those without household lists or CSCs. However, accessing Pann Khin requires an affidavit from the local administrator, attesting that they are not Chinese, Muslim, or “mixed-blood,” thus affirming that the applicant is taingyintha. If the applicant is deemed to be non-taingyintha by the administrator, they are ineligible for the “one-stop-shop” and must apply at the NRCD office instead, with an unknown wait time (Mosaic Myanmar 2023). A community leader asked about Pann Khin described it as part of a long-term conception of Muslims since the BSPP period: “Long ago U Ne Win said Muslims were considered ‘mixed blood,’ and in the BSPP period, SLORC, SPDC, democracy, and current period, while the government has changed, the structures have changed, the principles have changed, when it comes to CSCs, the conception of Muslims remains the same.”

The combination of the Pann Khin registration programme, travel restrictions on those without CSCs, mandatory guest registration, and the widespread boycotting of the junta’s administration means that in some areas it is only unofficial minorities who are lining up at the NRCD office applying for civil documentation. While those officially recognised as taingyintha may still be obtaining CSCs by applying directly through the local administrator, only unofficial minority interactions with SAC-controlled offices are visible, as they are only allowed to apply at the office, not through the local administrator like taingyintha. Unofficial minorities thus find themselves caught between revolutionary imperatives not to engage with the SAC administration and the everyday security concerns that necessitate dealing with the regime. As one unofficial minority community leader explained: “One side will say don’t fill in the guest list while the other side demands it. We are pressed between two sides. If we make the registration list then one side won’t even see that we did it, but if we don’t make it, then we are the ones who will suffer.”

Travel restrictions coupled with the exclusion of unofficial minorities from Pann Khin registration limits unofficial minorities from accessing official documentation and with it, housing, employment, education, and freedom of movement. These limitations can push individuals and families to leave Myanmar. Unofficial minorities without CSCs who wish to leave Myanmar are increasingly likely to use smuggling networks (CASS 2021). Of course, leaving through such channels can have long-term consequences for unofficial minorities who have no proof of the citizenship that would allow them to return. Furthermore, without proof of citizenship they will have difficulties obtaining citizenship for any children born abroad – whether under the SAC or under current NUG-proposed citizenship policies. The latter states that citizenship is acquired through birth in Myanmar or birth abroad to Myanmar citizen parents (NUG 2021).

Unofficial minority participation in the Spring Revolution

Despite the increased risks and uncertainties faced by unofficial minorities following the 2021 coup, many are actively involved in the Spring Revolution. One of the earliest casualties following the coup was a young, ethnic Chinese woman named Kyal Sin and known as “Angel,” killed while joining a protest in Mandalay a month after the coup. Her t-shirt read “Everything will be OK,” a defiant message, with her photo and sacrifice widespread on social media. In April 2021, prominent youth activist and Muslim Wai Moe Naing from Sagaing was arrested on several charges leading to multiple sentences (Radio Free Asia, April 15, 2021). Kyi Su village in Kantbalu in Sagaing Region, home to a significant Muslim population, was raided by SAC forces who believed that armed resistance came from the village, resulting in at least 10 dead and 500 homes burned. Although Sagaing’s Muslim communities are closely integrated in villages with Buddhists and Christians, almost all casualties and destruction were in the Muslim area of the village – alongside the burning of a madrassah and damage to the village mosques (Radio Free Asia, July 20, 2022).

Some notable civil society organisations emerging from the revolution include organisations such as the Multi-ethnic Myanmar Muslim Consultative Committee, Minority Affairs Institute, Myanmar Hindu Union, Myanmar Muslim Revolution Force, and Myanmar Muslim Spring Revolution Network. These groups conduct meetings with the NUG, NUCC, foreign governments, and other revolutionary forces as well as raise funds to assist in the revolution and aid displaced persons. Unofficial minorities have also organised armed groups such as the People Liberation Muslim Front, Myanmar Islamic Commando-PDF, and Gurkha Defence Force. Building on long histories of multi-religious involvement in Myanmar’s self-determination struggles, individual Muslims, Hindus, ethnic Chinese, and other unofficial minorities have joined armed resistance groups in Sagaing region and Karen and Karenni states, among other areas (Frontier Myanmar, March 28, 2023). These individuals fight in PDFs and EAOs/EROs alongside ethnic minorities and Bamar, identifying themselves with the broader causes of the Spring Revolution such as building an equal society.

Unofficial minorities unable to participate directly in organisations or on the frontlines, engage in acts of defiance against the junta by mobilising across their communities. Hindu religious organisations active on social media such as Hindu Bathaye Athi Pyinnya (Hindu Religious Knowledge) on Facebook on March 28, 2021 advised the Hindu community to be mindful of Myanmar’s situation when celebrating the Hindu holidays such as Holi and Diwali. Hindus were urged to celebrate only briefly and with conscience, meaning not to celebrate openly or dance in the streets. They were encouraged to worship, pray for Myanmar, its people, and the fallen martyrs. Similarly, Muslims come together to celebrate holidays such as Eid-ul-fitr but are told to be mindful of the overall situation of the country and if possible, to make almsgiving (zakat) contributions to Muslims who are at the forefront of the revolution or who are in dire need due to displacement (DVB 2023).

Despite such diverse forms of involvement, there is a lack of representation in the various leadership committees and organisations formed since the coup. Where Hindus, Muslims, Rohingyas, or others are involved in the NUG or NUCC, it is at an individual level or as a representative of a civil society group, rather than representing an unofficial minority constituency. For example, Pabedan MP, Si Thu Maung, who is Muslim, is on the CRPH, and the Ministry of Human Rights of the NUG appointed human rights activist Aung Kyaw Moe, who is Rohingya, as a Deputy Minister in 2023. However, without recognised territories or armed groups, there is little space for unofficial minorities as representatives of their ethnic or religious groups, and thus little representation of the interests of these diverse and geographically dispersed communities among the institutions seeking to oust the military regime.

Conclusion: Revolution for All?

There were discursive shifts from ethno-national federalism to more inclusive civil-territorial federalism beginning prior to the 2021 coup (Breen and He 2019; Htet Min Lwin 2021). But as mentioned at the beginning of this article, concerns remain over conceptions of ethnic belonging in the Federal Democracy Charter. Amidst these discussions, the most recent phenomenon in Myanmar’s federalism literature is an “emergent” and “bottom-up” federalism which considers the established EAOs/EROs’ governance and administration as the key foundations for future federalism (see South 2021). How unofficial minorities will be involved in and represented by these future federal institutions remains uncertain.

Since the coup, the inclusion of unofficial minorities in formal political processes and spaces discussing the possibilities of a future federal democratic Myanmar has become more important than ever. Yet questions remain over how unofficial minority communities will position themselves in relation to a future federal Myanmar and how to ensure their inclusion and representation in different layers of the revolution and administration. The current political discussions among resistance actors (including NUG, NUCC, CRPH, EROs) still need to meaningfully address the historical grievances of both unofficial and official minorities and take steps to ensure participation and inclusion in any interim or future political designs. Inclusion is important in promoting the legitimacy and effectiveness of the federal, sub-national, and local administrations and installing safeguards to prevent the existing challenges faced by unofficial minorities from recurring or worsening in the future.

Without accommodating unofficial minority perspectives, the hope for building a peaceful and just society without ethnic or religious discrimination cannot be achieved. Existing plans for the inclusion of unofficial minorities in political decision-making and the larger society remain vague, while unofficial minorities continue to suffer under the military junta. Even if Bamar and other taingyintha have differences in approach on the building of a federal democratic union – on issues of ethno-national or territorial-based federalism and ethnic minorities’ long-standing request of constituting a Bamar ethnic state – the vision of the future should be centred on equality and inclusivity. Echoing one of the protest slogans of the Spring Revolution, the revolution is for all Myanmar citizens regardless of race or religion.

Acknowledgements

We are grateful for the support of the Swedish Research Council in funding our collaborative project “Tracing Citizenship and Displacement: New Faces of Statelessness in Myanmar,” from which this is the first publication. We thank the anonymous peer reviewers, the special issue editors Justine Chambers and Nick Cheesman, the internal special issue reviewer Helene Kyed, and David Mathieson for their comments on drafts. The Centre for East and South-East Asian Studies at Lund University, Myanmar Research Centre Dialogue Series at the Australian National University, and the Danish Institute for International Studies all hosted seminars or workshops where previous drafts of this paper were presented. Most importantly, we thank all those who contributed to this project as researchers, research assistants, trainers, and administrators who remain unnamed due to the current security concerns in Myanmar. Data for this article were collected and processed under ethical review board processes from University College London (2020–2022) and the Swedish Ethical Review Board (2023–2027).

Disclosure Statement

No competing interests to declare.

Additional information

Funding

The collaborative research in this article was funded by the Swedish Research Council Starting Grant in Development Studies (2022-04861), “Tracing Citizenship and Displacement: New Faces of Statelessness in Myanmar.”

Notes

1 Bayingyi are Portuguese-Bamar Roman Catholics who received a land grant in Sagaing from a Burmese king in the 17th century.

2 This funeral speech was reproduced at the Dagon 1 High School Facebook page on March 15, 2021 (Accessed on March 13, 2024, https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=274304384266626). Khant Nyar Hein was a graduate of Dagon 1 high school, one of the most prestigious public high schools in the country. For more on his death, and interviews with his parents expressing inter-ethnic and interfaith solidarity, see Progressive Voice Myanmar (2021).

3 While the National Unity Consultative Council (NUCC) approved the Federal Democracy Charter, it significantly revised it and released an updated version in 2022 (Htet Myet Min Tun and Moe Thuzar 2022).

4 The concept of indigeneity in Myanmar is complex and controversial (see Dunford 2019; Thawnghmung 2016). This article uses the word autochthony as a synonym for indigeneity outside of the international discourse on indigenous rights. The Burmese word taingyintha translates to “sons of the area” or “sons of the soil” denoting original inhabitants. It is often translated to English as “national races” or “ethnic nationalities.” For more on national races, see Cheesman (2017).

5 Unofficial minorities are spread throughout the country, with no major territorial concentration. However, this is not the case for the Rohingya population concentrated in Northern and Central Rakhine State, with a history of involvement in armed struggles for autonomy against the central state. Nothing here suggests that the Rohingya do not have territorial claims of their own or claims to indigeneity. The focus is on groups who have not been recognised as minorities, and thus include Rohingya. But it is recognised that Rohingya territorial claims differ greatly from ethnic Chinese, Hindus, and Myanmar Muslims.

6 AFPFL or Pa Sa Pa La in the Burmese abbreviation, was a league of parties, including socialists, associations, ethnic groups, religious groups, and others. Following the Second World War, it claimed “that it was not a party, nor even a coalition merely, but a ‘National Government’” (Maung Maung 1961, 68). It later became the party that ruled Burma from independence in 1948 until the 1962 military coup.

7 Requirements include birth in one of “His Britannic Majesty’s dominions” and residence in Myanmar for eight of the ten years prior to the Constitution taking effect or prior to the onset of the Japanese occupation in January 1942. For more on citizenship by election, see Rhoads (2023b) and Rhoads and Das (2024).

8 While Chin, Kachin, Mon, and Arakanese MPs were not arrested, the Shan Guest House, home of the Shan MPs in Rangoon was targeted at the same time as the government ministers. Those present – both MPs and sawbwas – were arrested (The Nation, March 3, 1962).

9 Thanks to the anonymous reviewer for highlighting the nuances of the federal debate in the 1950s and 1960s.

10 India estimated that 100,000 people of Indian origin were trapped in areas affected by the Karen Rebellion in the 1940s (National Archives of India 1949).

11 The reports and articles are: Bulmer (2022), Harding and Nyi Nyi Kyaw (2022), International IDEA (2022), Loong (2023), and Simion (2023).

12 Section 10(ii) of the 1947 Constitution grants birth right citizenship to anyone born in Burma with at least one taingyintha grandparent. The 1948 Union Citizenship Law grants birth right citizenship at independence to those born in Burma whose parents were also born in Burma and whose family made Burma their home for at least two generations (Section 4[ii]) and to those born in Burma to one citizen parent (Section 5[a]).

13 The 1989 law recognised all types of citizens as eligible voters.

14 For a limited period during the ceasefire in Rakhine however, some areas under Arakan Army (AA) or joint administration with the SAC in Central Rakhine reported increased access to education and healthcare for Rohingya.

15 As the state confiscates residency and citizenship documents upon the bearer’s death, applicants must travel to the township or district office where their forbears lived to access the official copies of these documents. Once collected, they submit certified copies to the NRCD with their applications.