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External threats and democratisation: Burma 1988 and South Korea 1987

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  04 November 2025

Joonbum Bae*
Affiliation:
Department of Political Science, Colorado State University, Fort Collins, CO, USA
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Abstract

How does the international security environment influence whether and how military regimes democratise? This paper argues that for militaries in power, sustained external threats facilitate democratisation by credibly assuring the armed forces of continuing influence after leaving office. The credibility of this assurance stems from the military’s monopoly on the provision of national security and the reliance of all parties on the armed forces for the country’s defence. Militaries, confident of their continued influence after returning to the barracks, are more likely to cede power to democratisers when facing prolonged threats from abroad. Utilising a comparative case study of ruling militaries in Burma and South Korea, this paper tests four implications of the theory for how crises over democracy unfold between governing militaries and the opposition in contrasting security environments. It finds support for each of the implications.

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© The Author(s), 2025. Published by Cambridge University Press on behalf of The British International Studies Association.

Introduction

In August of 1988, mass demonstrations calling for democratisation led to the resignation of General Ne Win, the head of the military government in Burma. Free elections seemed imminent during what is still referred to as the ‘democracy summer’. However, when two successive leaders after Ne Win failed to quell the unrest, the military reasserted control and brutally repressed the democratic movement. Thousands died during the process.Footnote 1 More than thirty-five years later, Burma has yet to democratise.

A year earlier, in June of 1987, a military regime led by Chun Doo Hwan in South Korea had also faced nationwide demonstrations demanding democracy. In contrast to the Burmese case, however, Chun and his anointed successor, Roh Tae Woo, oversaw a largely peaceful transition to democratic rule despite it appearing almost certain at the time that accepting democratisation would lead to a loss of power for the military.Footnote 2 South Korea has since remained democratic.

When facing a crisis over democracy, why do some military regimes choose to democratise while others do not? What effect, if any, does the international security environment have on the likelihood of democratisation? This paper takes a ‘second image reversed’ approach to advance a theory of how the international security environment influences democratisation from military rule.Footnote 3 It argues that sustained external threats facilitate democratisation from military rule by credibly assuring the military that its interests will be protected after leaving power. This effect is unique to military dictatorships among different forms of authoritarian rule. Facing mass protests for democracy, the North Korean threat made it easier for the generals in Seoul to return to the barracks compared to those in Burma, who did not face a similar outside threat.

This paper presents evidence supporting implications from a theory of credible assurance through a comparative case study of military regimes in Burma and South Korea. Cases were selected to maximise their similarities while attempting to isolate the security environment as the cause of the different outcomes. Tests of the hypothesised mechanisms of the theory also function as a plausibility probe for the theory beyond the cases analysed in this paper.

From the theory, the paper deduces implications for how crises over democracy unfold between a military regime and the opposition in contrasting security environments. Against the historical record, it tests four sets of predictions regarding how sustained external threats lead to 1) moderation of the opposition’s demands to the military, 2) more regime flexibility towards the opposition, 3) lower levels of violence during the crisis, and 4) a higher likelihood of democratisation as the crisis outcome. By doing so, it provides evidence that the processes of South Korea’s democratisation and Burma’s inability to do so are consistent with each of the expectations from the theory.

By presenting a theory that specifies how external conflicts facilitate democratisation and providing empirical support from multiple tests of its implications, this paper proposes a novel explanation for why some military regimes democratise while others do not. While ample evidence exists for the claim that military rule is more likely to democratise than other forms of autocracies, these studies focus on traits that account for the military’s fragility relative to other forms of autocratic rule.Footnote 4 Such works, therefore, cannot explain variation within military rule regarding democratisation. It follows that prior works on democratisation from military rule have limited utility in illuminating why the military regimes of Burma (1962–88) and South Korea (1961–87) parted ways regarding democratisation in the late 1980s despite many similarities between them.Footnote 5

The findings also contribute to theorising on democratisation in general. According to one measure, over half (49 out of 96) of the cases of democratic transitions that occurred between 1945 and 2010 were from ‘collegial’ or ‘institutional’ military dictatorships – characterised by governance by a group of high-ranking officers distinct from dictatorships in which power is concentrated in a single military leader (or one with military experience). During this period, breakdowns of military rule resulted in democratisation about 60 per cent of the time,Footnote 6 the only form of authoritarian rule where authoritarian collapse resulted in democratic transitions more than half of the time.

At the same time, military dictatorships have largely become a relic of the past. As of 2010, only two countries had military regimes in power: Algeria and Burma.Footnote 7 Thus, understanding democratisation from military rule is relevant for theories of democratisation in a dual sense: not only are they a significant portion of democratisation cases during the post–World War II era, but theories of democratisation from predominantly military rule may not be applicable for the largely non-military dictatorships currently in power.

The argument also adds to the growing literature on the relevance of international factors in civil–military relations. While prior scholarship has primarily focused on the relationship between militaries out of power and civilian leadership,Footnote 8 this paper expands the scope of inquiry to examine the implications of external threats for militaries in power in their relationships with democratic opposition forces.

The implications of the argument are not solely academic. Beyond the normative considerations of democracy, proponents of the democratic peace have long argued that democracies behave differently towards each other compared to dictatorships in ways that matter for the national interest.Footnote 9 Foreign policy decisions often hinge upon expectations about the future of the target country, and a better understanding of the consequences of regime breakdown will be of interest to policymakers. The key finding that credible assurances of influence out of power facilitate transitions to democracy also has implications for policy towards military regimes that may be leaving power, those that remain in power, as in Egypt or Burma, and those that exert influence as part of the ruling coalition, as in Algeria or Rwanda.

Military democratisation

One of the key findings from recent studies of authoritarianism is that institutional military rule – characterised by governance by a group of high-ranking officers and sometimes called collegial military regimes – is distinct from ‘military strongman’ rule in which power is concentrated in the hands of a single military leader. Distinguishing whether the armed forces as an institution or a dictator from the military (or with military experience) is in power matters for various outcomes. These include the duration of a leader’s time in office, regime stability, conflict propensity, and the manner of regime transition.Footnote 10 In particular, a robust finding has emerged based on this conceptual distinction that military rule as an institution is more likely to democratise than other types of dictatorships.

Several explanations have been proposed for military regimes’ higher propensity to democratise. However, because they rely on traits that militaries in power share to account for their divergence from other forms of autocracies, they are ill suited to explain why some military regimes democratise while others do not. For example, influential works argue that a ‘preference for unity’ based on the military’s prioritisation of organisational cohesion explains its tendency to democratise. Leaders of the armed forces prize a professional military unified under a single chain of command.Footnote 11 While factions exist within militaries, often with different preferences regarding governing, they are essentially involved in a ‘game of coordination’: all groups prefer to act together over being divided.Footnote 12 Therefore, when facing a crisis, factions within a military government prefer giving up power (in unison) rather than facing a split within its ranks over remaining in power.Footnote 13 As a result, military regimes tend to last less time in power than other forms of authoritarianism.Footnote 14 This fragility, in turn, means they are more likely to democratise.

Alternatively, the ‘strength in power’ argument posits that the military’s bargaining power drives the higher propensity for democratisation. Possession of the means of coercion gives military regimes the leverage to dictate the terms of their exit from power.Footnote 15 Better terms of exit, in turn, make it easier for them to hand over government control.

A third view argues the opposite: control over solely the means of violence means that military regimes lack the means to co-opt, elicit cooperation from, and organise support for the regime.12 This ‘over-reliance on force’ view contends that the military’s refusal or inability to utilise institutions such as parties or legislatures to organise support for the regime and neutralise threats to it is why military rule is more prone to democratise. Authoritarian rule cannot maintain power solely based on the threat of force; thus, exclusive dependence on it is a source of frailty, not strength.

Lastly, the ‘weakness out of power’ view posits that the armed forces’ lack of leverage out of power facilitates democratisation from military rule. Militaries control the means of violence and thus pose a threat when brute force is the primary determinant of power. Because democracies rely less on violence to determine who governs,Footnote 16 democratisation reduces the potential threat militaries pose to the new ruler. As a result, military dictators can expect a safer post-tenure fate under democratic rule and are, therefore, more likely to democratise. Democratisation resolves the problem of the military's inability to credibly signal that it will not resort to violence to regain power. Thus, military rule is more prone to democratise.

These theories focus on characteristics of the military that do not vary to explain why they are more prone to democratise. The military’s preference for unity, control over the means of violence, over-reliance on force, and non-threatening character under democratic rule are not features that fluctuate or can be easily altered. Therefore, while they may explain why ‘collegial’ military regimes are more likely to democratise than other dictatorships, they cannot explain why some military regimes democratise and others do not.

The theory

External threats

This paper argues that leverage out of power – rather than a preference for unity, strength while in power, weakness out of government, or sole dependence on force – facilitates handovers of power from the military to democratic control. A key obstacle to democratisation is the possibility of persecution for autocratic regime insiders and their supporters after a turnover of power. Promises to refrain from post-transition oppression are not ex ante credible for those in power, as the incoming regime may have sufficient incentives to crack down on the outgoing regime and its supporters ex post.Footnote 17 Knowing this, incumbent dictators can wield violence against the opposition to maintain power. Democratisation, as a result, can be delayed. Thousands can die in the process.

For military regimes, post-exit fates have added significance, for harming the interests and professionalism of the military also threatens its goal of protecting the nation. However, sustained threats from abroad credibly assure officers in power of continued influence after they leave office. The sources of this credibility are 1) the military’s monopoly over the means to provide security and 2) the shared interest of all parties – including the incoming regime – in maintaining a robust national defence when facing a grave foreign threat. The threat of conflict, in other words, operates as a credible commitment device, ensuring the preservation of military influence, resources, and autonomy even after leaving power.

Military leaders can thus project within harsh security environments that the armed forces will continue to wield considerable leverage and be protected from harm out of power. The assurance of post-exit status, in turn, makes it more likely that military regimes democratise when facing a crisis of rule. Since different countries and regimes face varying levels of external threat, the security environment can explain why some military regimes democratise while others do not.

Sustained external threats further facilitate the military handing over power and returning to the barracks. The more protracted outside threats are, the more confidently the military can project that it will continue to be relied upon to provide security, and therefore not have its position and influence imperilled after leaving office.Footnote 18

Internal threats

Internal security threats, such as domestic insurgencies or civil wars, do not have the same effect of credibly assuring the military of continuing leverage out of power. While a mutual interest in national defence unites the armed forces and opposition parties against an external threat, no such common incentives exist with an armed domestic threat to the regime. Such internal conflicts divide a nation into warring parties, with the regular army on one side battling armed insurgents. Ceding power amidst an insurgency typically means the military hands power to coalitions with divergent policies towards the domestic threat or, worse, directly to the rebels or those allied with them. Rather than the new coalition in power being restrained from attacking the military, as is the case when facing threats from abroad, the newly empowered may be incentivised to disarm or attack the armed forces.

At the same time, armed challenges by insurgents against the state break the military’s monopoly on the means of violence. Rebels’ capacity for wielding force relative to government forces varies, but they all compromise the military’s hold over the means of violence to some degree. Coupled with the lack of constraints on punishing the military, the loss of sole ownership over the use of force further threatens the military’s future out of power.

Lastly, insurgencies seeking independence or a break-up of the nation-state directly endanger the military’s goal of defending the country’s territorial integrity. Ceding power to others in the face of such domestic threats can imperil this goal. Therefore, separatist insurgencies are especially likely to lead to reluctance on the part of military regimes to cede power.

The implications

The theory of credible assurance yields three testable sets of expectations regarding how the security environment affects interactions between the military and the opposition during crises over democracy. First, a severe and continuing threat from abroad moderates demands from democratisers towards the military during crises over democratisation. The dependence of the opposition on the armed services – with their monopoly on the provision of national defence – constrains democratic leaders from oppressing the military after assuming power and dictating the conditions of their removal from power. Although multiple Pakistani military regimes have returned power to civilians (in 1988 and 2008), for example, the democratic transitions have ‘not generated robust civilian control’ during the ongoing rivalry with India. The military’s ‘perception of vulnerability’ vis-à-vis India was a key factor in the armed forces retaining their ‘autonomy’.Footnote 19

The high priority that the public puts on the country’s defence and the possibility that they will punish leaders advocating policies detrimental to national security at the ballot box also give democratisers an electoral incentive to moderate their demands. These dual pressures to temper their demands also make it more likely that the diverse groups constituting the opposition will be more unified in their restraint during the critical negotiations over democratisation.

Without a serious threat from abroad, conversely, the democratic opposition is less reliant on the armed forces for national defence. The masses have less reason to worry about the repercussions of harm to the military. Democratisers are thus less constrained from imposing their demands on the military. Free from moderating pressures, maximalist demands will feature more prominently within the opposition. Divisions within the opposition over such demands also become more likely.

Second, the military can be more flexible and accommodating during crises over the terms of its exit when the country is vulnerable to an outside threat. The possibility of external conflicts assures the military, as the only organisation capable of defending the nation, that its core interests will be protected even when out of power. At the extreme, with complete certainty in the continuing presence of a dangerous foreign enemy, the military can cede total control over the terms of transition to the opposition once it decides to return to the barracks. While factions exist within the armed forces and often have diverging preferences over governing, continuing threats from abroad uniformly improve prospects for all factions out of power, making it easier for all parties to relinquish power. This is why militaries can return to the barracks even when the elections under their rule result in the party they had opposed joining the ruling coalition, as in Turkey in 1961 at the front lines of the Cold War (and amidst high tensions with Greece).Footnote 20

In the absence of serious outside threats, conversely, the military loses its leverage as the only means of safeguarding the nation from the dangers it faces. Thus, for miltiaries in power, a shift to a more peaceful environment leads to greater trepidation about their post-exit fates and can, counterintuitively, make it harder to relinquish power. Anwar Sadat, after the peace deal with the Israelis, worried that not naming a successor from the military would jeopardise his grip on power.Footnote 21 During a crisis over democracy, therefore, the military brass cannot afford to be as compromising in negotiations over their exit when in a benign security environment. Higher uncertainty over their fates after leaving power denies them the flexibility to do so.

Lastly, with moderate demands from democratisers and greater flexibility in the military’s negotiating position over democratisation, the crisis is more likely to be resolved non-violently in countries facing external threats. Transitions to democratic rule will tend to be negotiated and orderly. With less to lose from letting go of power and confidence that its interests will be protected, the military has reduced incentives to use force to remain in office while risking a split within the military and a deterioration of domestic order.

In a benign security environment, in contrast, democratisers depend less on the military for national security and have lower incentives to moderate their demands. Uncertain of its ability to safeguard its interests after leaving power, the military has less flexibility to accommodate opposition demands and more reason to use force to maintain its position in government. Settlements on the path to democracy are more difficult to achieve. Violence becomes more likely.

Burma and South Korea: The divergence

Military regimes in Burma (1962–88) and South Korea (1961–87) are useful cases for testing the implications of the theory of credible assurance. The two differ on the outcome of democratisation and the key explanatory variable: the security environment. Burma faces no external threats, whereas South Korea borders North Korea. At the same time, South Korea and Burma share many political and historical features, facilitating conclusions about the impact of the security environment. Since the commonalities between the two cases cannot account for varying outcomes,Footnote 22 this restricts the factors that can explain divergence in outcomes to the factors on which the cases differ.

South Korean path to democratisation

The outcomes precipitated by the mass movements for democracy in Seoul and Rangoon in the late 1980s could not have been more different. At the height of the crisis in South Korea in June of 1987, Roh Tae Woo,Footnote 23 the regime’s successor in line to take over after Chun Doo Hwan, announced to the nation that he supported direct presidential elections. Roh’s ‘June 29th declaration’ proposed that a committee of all major political parties would draft changes to the constitution, including an amendment for direct presidential elections. The amendments would then be put up for a public referendum, and if approved, direct presidential elections would be held. The regime would hand power to the winner. Roh’s announcement signalled the regime’s acceptance of democratisation and Chun’s de facto removal from power.

Crucially, the military regime contemplated but decided against using force and acceded to the transition plan. The committee to work on constitutional revisions was soon formed, and a consensus draft emerged. The new constitution, including a provision for direct presidential elections, was approved by a plebiscite in October 1987, with 78.2 per cent of eligible voters participating and 93.1 per cent favouring the constitutional changes.

Two months later, direct elections were held for the presidency. Roh ran as the DJP’s candidate. Kim Young Sam and Kim Dae Jung, the two faces of the democratic movement, did not unify their candidacies despite widespread calls to do so.Footnote 24 The split proved decisive as, under South Korea’s first-past-the-post presidential electoral system, Roh won with a plurality of about 37 per cent of the popular vote. Kim Young Sam and Kim Dae Jung jointly received well over the majority of the votes, respectively garnering 28 and 27 per cent support. The candidate of the ruling party under military rule, as a result, was sworn into office as the first president of a newly democratic South Korea.

Although the loss was a setback for supporters of the movement against military rule, South Korea was well on the path to becoming a stable and vibrant democracy. Five months after the presidential elections, opposition parties won a majority in the general elections, resulting in the legislature’s first experience in checking government power under democratic rule.Footnote 25 Kim Young Sam was elected president in 1992 after joining the ruling party. Kim Dae-Jung, who remained in the opposition, succeeded him five years later in the first alternation of power via the ballot box. Subsequent decades resulted in further consolidation of democracy.

Continuing military rule in Burma

While the regime exercised restraint in the face of mass demonstrations and negotiated a return to the barracks in South Korea, an intransigent military repeatedly used lethal force against the democratic movement in Burma. As rallies for multi-party democracy gathered momentum across the nation, Ne Win ramped up violence against demonstrators. Only when casualties mounted into the hundreds with no signs of the unrest subsiding did Ne Win step down.

The military refused to withdraw from politics following Ne Win’s resignation. Sein Lwin, another army officer known as the ‘Butcher of Rangoon’ for his role in violently suppressing the protests, took over as the head of the government and ruling party (Burma Socialist Programme Party: BSPP). His ascension to power further exacerbated political tensions across the country. Sein Lwin ordered soldiers to shoot at protestors during the 8 August mobilisations while president and resigned amidst the uproar over the resulting casualties after seventeen days in office.

Maung Maung, one of the few civilians within the ruling party’s high ranks, took over as the head of the BSPP afterward. During August and September 1988, he attempted to resolve the crisis with opposition leaders. However, an agreement over a plan for democratisation never emerged between the regime and the protestors.

With mounting instability amidst continuing protests, and with no political resolution to the crisis in sight after three leadership changes, the military reasserted control. General Saw Maung, the head of a new political organisation called the State Law and Order Restoration Council (SLORC), ordered the crackdown. The SLORC declared martial law and forcefully broke up protests across the country. Thousands more died during September of 1988.Footnote 26

The military promised a quick transition to democracy, and general elections were held in 1990. Democratic activists formed the National League for Democracy (NLD) to contest elections. When results showed that the NLD had won nearly 90 per cent of the seats, however, the military backed away from its commitment. The outcome of the ‘democratic summer’ of 1988 in Burma was thus the advent of another form of military rule led by a different group of generals.

Despite numerous parallels in their modern histories, South Korea and Burma experienced vastly different outcomes to the crises of military rule that emerged in 1987 and 1988. The former underwent a negotiated, non-violent transition to democracy that has lasted. In the latter, repeated violence against protests calling for democracy led to thousands of civilian deaths and crushed hopes for democracy. It remains under military rule today.

South Korea and Burma: The security environment

The disparity between South Korea and Burma’s security environment, this paper argues, explains the diverging fatea of the two countries since the late 1980s. The nature of threats a country faces plays a crucial role in the decision-making of generals in government. This is because the military’s goal of defending a country’s integrity, as well as the level of resources and influence accorded to the armed forces, is directly tied to a country’s threat environment.

In both countries, the military became a crucial political actor well before the crises over democratisation in the 1980s. Their growth had origins in the dangers the two states faced. However, Rangoon and Seoul faced two distinct threats. The threat from North Korea was the primary reason for the South Korean military’s increasing influence. Seoul had not been subject to a serious domestic threat for decades. On the other hand, Rangoon enjoyed a benign international environment. Internal threats from insurgencies were the main reason for the Burmese military’s growth in status. Each military’s contrasting threat environments would shape its behaviour and decision-making at crucial junctures in starkly different ways.

South Korea’s security environment

South Korea faced an existential threat ever since North Korean military forces moved south of the 38th parallel and initiated the Korean War in June 1950. The Korean People’s Army (KPA) forced South Korean forces to retreat behind a narrow perimeter around the southeastern port city of Pusan. Only the reinforcement of the South’s position by arriving UN forces prevented the entire Korean peninsula from falling under communist rule.

Although an armistice signed in July of 1953 halted hostilities,Footnote 27 the Korean War continued to play a critical role in South Korea’s security environment. Hundreds of thousands of Koreans died during the conflict. South Korea nearly experienced total defeat. Moreover, because a formal peace treaty was never signed, the Koreas remain technically at war.

Although there have been periods of détente between the Koreas, they have been short lived. Only once has more than two years passed without a conflict, provocation, or explicit threat that involved military force during the entire post–Korean War period.Footnote 28 The continuing violence has led to a keen awareness of the possibility of another conflict and its potentially dire consequences.Footnote 29

South Korea also experienced armed rebellions led by communists linked with Pyongyang in the early years following liberation and the division of the Korean peninsula. Elements of the government’s armed forces joined the insurgency during the Yeo-Sun incident during this period. However, counter-insurgency campaigns by the military successfully pacified the rebellion, albeit with high civilian casualties.

During the ensuing three years of fighting during the Korean War, communists in South Korea either headed to North Korea or were eradicated in the South. This process led to the near elimination of the internal communist threats to the South Korean regime. The South Korean armed forces emerged from the dual experience of counter-insurgency campaigns and fighting in the Korean War as a more organised, cohesive, and capable force.Footnote 30 Henceforth, armed rebellions within the country ceased to pose a significant threat to the government or the armed forces. The dominant source of threat to the state became the external one posed by Pyongyang.

As the democratic movement was gathering momentum in South Korea in 1987, there were no signs of a lessening threat from North Korea.Footnote 31 The history of continuing enmity in South Korea’s relations with North Korea gave the South Korean military no reason to think that the country’s reliance on it for security, and therefore its position and influence, was at risk.

Burma’s security environment

Burma’s relatively benign post–World War II security environment differed qualitatively from South Korea’s. This was partly due to geography. It did not border any major emerging powers, nor was it an area of strategic interest to them.Footnote 32 Therefore, it could largely avoid being on the front lines of the Cold War as the two Koreas had been.Footnote 33

Prior Burmese subjugation at the hands of colonial powers also led its leaders to avoid entanglements with the great power politics of the post-war era. Britain had annexed much of present-day Burma in the late nineteenth century. A failed attempt to enlist Japan’s help to gain independence was followed by Japanese occupation in 1942. Although granted nominal independence by Tokyo a year later, it came at the cost of Burma declaring war on the United States and Britain.Footnote 34 It was only with the Japanese defeat in World War II that the Burmese could negotiate independence from the British.

Within such a historical context, independent Burma’s first leader, U Nu, sought to avoid being drawn into competition among regional powers by declaring ‘positive neutrality’ and non-alignment as key foreign policy principles.Footnote 35 Not facing an existential foreign threat, Burma did not need to ally with an outside power as South Korea did with Washington and North Korea with Beijing. The Korean War, fought along Cold War lines between North Korea, the USSR, and Communist China against South Korea and US-led UN forces, solidified among Burmese leaders the view that avoiding entanglement in a military alliance was in the Burmese national interest.Footnote 36 Burma to this day is not party to a military alliance with any of the major powers.

Due to its choice to minimise relations with the outside world, Rangoon also eschewed affiliation with regional and bilateral institutions. It did not join ASEAN when it was established in 1967.Footnote 37 It was careful not to accept aid from other countries, including the United States, preferring self-sufficiency in its economic development.Footnote 38 Thus, while Burma has not benefited from more cooperation with other nations, it also maintained a relatively benign security environment. The country has avoided wars and major international crises since its independence.

In contrast to its relatively peaceful external relations, Burma has experienced long-running insurgencies in several regions since its independence, some with explicit separatist aims. The rebellions were never strong enough to endanger the regime in Rangoon. However, their numbers, geographic scope, and enduring nature meant that countering such insurgencies played a critical role in developing a professional and well-resourced armed force in Burma. The internal threats posed by such insurgencies were crucial to the Burmese military’s growth in political power, even in the absence of a serious external threat.Footnote 39

Beijing’s policy of supporting Maoist insurgencies abroad was a partial exception to the non-threatening nature of Burma’s external relations. Support by Communist China for the armed insurgency carried out by the Burmese Communist Party (BCP) and Chinese efforts to export the Cultural Revolution were sources of friction between Rangoon and Beijing in the 1960s.Footnote 40 Even with Chinese support, however, the insurgencies were more of a nuisance in the eyes of the Burmese regime, never posing a serious threat to the government. Beijing also concluded that, in terms of Chinese strategic interests, Ne Win was not pro-American and thus far from the worst leader that Burma could have.Footnote 41 By 1978, when the Chinese government withdrew support for the BCP, the issue ceased to be a factor in bilateral relations.Footnote 42 The insurgencies returned to being solely a domestic issue.

In the lead-up to the mass demonstrations for democracy in the late 1980s, Burma and its armed forces had not faced a severe foreign threat since independence. There were no signs of an emerging or imminent danger from abroad. Thus, no uniformity of interests existed across all sectors of society in maintaining a strong and viable national defence. The armed forces could not be confident that they would avoid persecution from those who took over state power if they returned to the barracks.

At the same time, the armed forces that controlled Burma were well organised, disciplined, and adept at using their coercive power because of decades of counter-insurgency campaigns across the country against armed rebellions, some with explicit separatist aims. The domestic threat they posed did not unify the different sectors of society behind support for the armed forces. Instead, it divided society along ideological and ethnic lines. Letting go of power in the face of such a threat could compromise the military’s and the country’s integrity.

The logic of credible assurance: Three tests

Democratic opposition demands

Below, we test three sets of implications from the logic of credible assurance for how the contrasting security environments resulted in the military regime in Seoul democratising while the one in Rangoon did not. First, the theory predicts that the threat of interstate conflict moderates the demands of democratic opposition forces regarding democratisation. Governing militaries facing calls for democratisation have reason to fear that a new regime will prosecute generals for acts committed while in power, cut military budgets, and purge those loyal to the outgoing regime. A threatening international context, however, requires that the nation’s troops keep their capabilities intact. The country’s reliance on the armed forces for national defence limits the measures democrats can impose on the military. This reliance moderates the position of democrats toward the military.

Militaries in societies facing serious external threats have additional leverage vis-à-vis the democratisers because the public is mindful of its critical role in defending the country. Measures that threaten the ability of the military to defend the nation are unpopular with the public and thus a potential liability in (upcoming) elections. Democratisers in such societies, therefore, also have an electoral incentive to temper their demands against the armed forces.

Absent severe threats from abroad, in contrast, democratic leaders are less likely to moderate their goals during crisis negotiations. Not as dependent on the military for national security, movements for democracy do not need to be as accommodating of the military’s interests. Democratic leaders also face fewer electoral incentives to temper their demands in negotiations with the military. On the contrary, the often-brutal practices of the junta may exert enormous political pressure on opposition movement leaders to seek retribution against the military and secure justice for the victims of oppression.

The positions of opposition leaders in South Korea and Burma align with the theory’s expectations. Democracy leaders in South Korea exercised restraint towards the military throughout the transition process. Kim Dae Jung, one of the most influential leaders of the democratic movement, repeatedly made clear during the 1987 presidential campaign immediately following democratisation that he would not punish the military and had ‘always actively supported the military’s role in national defense and would continue to do so’.Footnote 43

Kim also categorically stated that he had ‘never been for decreasing military assistance from the US or the defense budget’ and that he had also ‘opposed … the US using … national security as a means of applying pressure for South Korean democratization’. Strikingly, Kim was explicitly stating that he had never prioritised democracy over national security despite his decades of advocacy for the former. At the same time, he expressed a willingness to ‘cooperate with political soldiers without any problems as long as they changed their minds and focused on national defense’.Footnote 44 He was assuring the officers participating in the regime that there would be no penalties once they returned to their roles in national defence.

Kim supported the armed forces and opposed US pressure on the military that would be detrimental to national security despite his personal history and political base giving him ample reason to seek retribution against it. During his political advocacy for democracy, the military dictatorship tortured him, sentenced him to death, and forced him into exile.Footnote 45 Moreover, Kim’s core support base in the Southwest of the country had been the site of the bloodiest episode of military violence when, in May of 1980, Chun Doo Hwan ordered a crackdown on demonstrations against his rule in Gwangju. Many citizens were killed.Footnote 46 An investigation into the massacre and justice for the victims and their families had been a key demand of the democratic movement since.

When asked about his position on legal measures against the perpetrators of violence in Gwangju during the presidential campaign, however, Kim went on the record that while he fully supported getting to the truth of the incident and compensation for the victims, he would not seek retribution or legal prosecution against those responsible for the deaths. The reasons that he gave for not seeking such measures were to ‘prevent future political turmoil and to achieve conciliation amongst the people’.Footnote 47 Kim was keenly aware of the destabilising and divisive consequences of attempting to harm the military.

It is also informative that Kim Young-Sam, the other leading opposition candidate for the presidency during the 1987 campaign, attempted to capitalise on the public concern of the more progressive Kim Dae Jung and his national security policy. He frequently reminded voters of the perception that Kim Dae-Jung was too pro–North Korea and would seek ‘radical change’ in security policy.Footnote 48

Both Kim Dae-Jung’s pledges not to persecute the military and Kim Young Sam’s assertions about Kim Dae Jung’s ‘radical’ (foreign) policy platform reflect public unease at changes that can jeopardise national security. Even when leaving military rule behind, democratic leaders were constrained and shaped by the electorate’s aversion to policies that endangered the military and national security. The result was a convergence of opposition leaders towards moderation in policy regarding the military and defence.

In Burma, conversely, opposition leaders were not as inhibited towards the military because the country did not face a serious threat from abroad. After results showed the NLD had won most of the seats in the 1990 elections after the crackdown in 1988, for example, the NLD spokesman U Kyi Maung was asked about post-transition plans for the military. In response, he rhetorically asked, ‘How many Germans stood trial at Nuremberg?’Footnote 49 The NLD was comparing the armed forces to a defeated foreign army standing trial for war crimes, for which many were hanged. Far from assuring the military that there was a secure future for it out of power, such eagerness to punish the military solidified the perception that there would be no quarter for it after democratisation.Footnote 50

At the same time, moderate elements within the Burmese opposition leadership that were conciliatory or accommodating towards the military were marginalised. Former Burmese army brigadier general Aung Gyi had risen to prominence as a regime insider who publicly opposed Ne Win and joined the protests. He later became one of the faces of the democratic movement. When Aung Gyi urged protestors at the height of the demonstrations, however, to ‘not even to think hostile thoughts against the military’, the ‘crowd turned away in disgust and disappointment’.Footnote 51 Aung Gyi would later leave the NLD.Footnote 52 There was no shared understanding amongst democratisers of the need to limit harm to the military.

Aung San Suu Kyi, perhaps the most prominent voice in the democratic movement and the daughter of a famed independence movement leader and founder of the modern Burmese army, may have been uniquely positioned to reassure the military about its status during the critical weeks of 1988. However, her statements during this period failed to offer the military assurances of its future out of power. While she implored the country for unity, she made clear that the country was to be united by the military giving in. In a key speech on 26 August in Rangoon, she reiterated the protestors’ demands for an immediate ouster of the regime and democratic elections, rebuffing the regime’s referendum proposal for (democratic) constitutional revisions.Footnote 53 Days later, in an interview on 29 August, when asked whether there would be the possibility of an institutionalised role for the military in Burmese politics, she categorically rejected the idea, stressing that she ‘totally’ supported the view that the ‘army should keep out of politics’.Footnote 54 She was adamant that the military could not have a say in the transition process, nor in the country’s future politics.

During South Korea’s democratisation process, competition for moderation from the democratic leaders during elections eased the transition process. Conversely, in Burma, the dominant faction in the democracy camp sought to deny the military a say in the transition process or a future role in governing. Some went further and vowed punishment for the military. Seeing the ‘writing on the wall’ regarding its future out of power,Footnote 55 the military afterward reneged on its promise to accept election results and readied violent measures.Footnote 56

Military regime flexibility

The presence of a foreign threat moderates the democratic opposition’s demands but also allows the military to be more flexible over the terms of democratisation. Leverage from the country’s dependence on the troops for protection from foreign threats and the military’s monopoly over providing security limits the damage democratic leaders can inflict on the military. Therefore, with credible guarantees of post-exit status, military regimes facing sustained external threats can be more accommodating over the terms of their withdrawal from power.

At the extreme, with certainty over the continuing presence of a grave outside threat, a military regime need not bargain for favourable exit terms. Wholly assured of the armed forces’ position in society, regardless of the type of democratic coalition that enters the halls of power, the military can hand a carte blanche over the terms of the transition to the incoming leadership as they return to the barracks. Delegating its fate to democratisers is possible because the military recognises that, as the only organisation that can provide forthe common defence, the resources and support needed to protect the country cannot be taken away even after it gives up government control.

Without the assurances that sustained threats to national security afford the armed forces, the military is more likely to be rigid and uncompromising during political crises over democratisation. Once democratisers take power, they may have incentives to repress the military and eliminate the threat that it poses to them. Democratic leaders are also likely to face pressure to persecute the military for its acts during authoritarian rule. Absent credible guarantees of what comes after leaving the presidential office, flexibility in negotiations over the terms of transition opens the way to potentially devastating post-exit consequences for the people in uniform.

Therefore, militaries are more likely to be uncompromising in negotiations with democratisers. Bargaining will tend towards deadlock, with a standoff between the regime and democratisers often exacerbating tensions as time goes by without a breakthrough. In contrast, confident that leaving power poses no existential danger to its status and influence, the military is more likely to yield on key terms of a democratic transition in the presence of sustained external threats.

The unfolding of the crises in South Korea and Burma over democracy is consistent with these implications. In Seoul, Roh Tae Woo explicitly stated in his address to the nation accepting democratic presidential elections in June 1987 that the regime was committed to a ‘peaceful transfer of power’.Footnote 57 It made the critical concession of giving up on the use of violence as an option, relinquishing any leverage that the threat of force had over the terms of democratisation.

Roh also promised that constitutional revisions for direct presidential elections would be pursued ‘in agreement’ between ‘governing and opposition parties’, including those calling for democracy.Footnote 58 The pledge to peacefully transfer power on terms set via consensus with all parties effectively meant substantial delegation of the terms of democratisation to the opposition. The military committed to a return to the barracks, in other words, regardless of the outcome of the negotiations with opposition parties over constitutional revisions and elections.

The regime kept its word, accepting the democratisation measures and transition timeline devised by a committee of political parties. Roh would refer to his decision to accept democratisation as a ‘surrender to the people’s will’.Footnote 59 Submitting to their will was possible, partly because the military was assured of continuing influence after leaving power.

In Burma, conversely, the opposition’s calls for the regime to immediately step down were met by the military’s steadfast refusal to cede control. Throughout the summer of 1988, the regime made several attempts to defuse the deepening crisis without agreeing to give up power. Ne Win, in office at the onset of the crisis, resigned on 23 July, but without agreeing to elections. When demonstrations demanding democracy continued to surge, his successor, Sein Lwin, attempted to beat back the tide of protests with force. He failed and stepped down after less than three weeks in office.Footnote 60

Maung Maung followed Sein Lwin into office and set forth a proposal broadly similar to what the military regime in Korea had offered a year earlier: a referendum on constitutional revisions for the ‘multi-party democracy’ the protestors were demanding. When demonstrators continued to call for immediate elections, Maung offered further concessions.Footnote 61 Constitutional revisions through a referendum could be bypassed, the regime conveyed, and the current government would appoint an independent electoral commission to manage elections ‘within three months’. Although some dissidents deemed the proposal worthy of consideration,Footnote 62 the opposition ultimately did not accept the current government staying in place during elections.Footnote 63 Protestors again called for an interim government to replace Maung. A new civilian government, they stipulated, needed to oversee elections and a transition to democracy.Footnote 64

The protestors’ demands were tantamount to the military stepping down without any protection for its position or interests. Ceding power to the demonstrators would remove any say in deciding the terms of the transition. The military found it difficult to surrender its fate to the democratisers, as the South Korean leadership had done a year earlier, absent assurances of its position in society after leaving power. The armed forces ultimately refused to delegate their future status to the democratic movement. The bargaining over the transition hit an impasse, and momentum for democracy stalled.

The difference in the degree of flexibility that the military regimes in Burma and South Korea exhibited proved critical to the outcomes of the crises. Once the military made key concessions to the opposition in South Korea, negotiations over the transition proceeded smoothly as both sides swiftly reached agreement. With each side abiding by their commitments, elections proceeded on schedule. In Rangoon, the inability of the military to make the compromise that the South Korean army had meant only one side could eventually prevail in the standoff. Ultimately, the side that possessed the means of violence did.

Violence

Absent a continuing foreign threat, there was no assurance that the interests of the Burmese military would be protected out of power. Consequently, its leaders did not relinquish control over the terms of transition. Without the risk of war, democratisers relied less on the military and were more demanding during crisis negotiations over the terms of the transition. Facing large, impassioned crowds calling for the ouster of the military and retribution for its deeds while in power, the regime’s options were limited to either giving way to the protestors without guarantees of its status out of office or using force to quell the unrest. This made the military’s use of violence – and the stifling of democracy – more likely.

In South Korea, on the other hand, the threat posed by Pyongyang limited the damage that incoming democrats could inflict on the military. Thus, ceding power offered much better prospects for the South Korean military than in Burma and allowed more flexibility in negotiations with democrats over the transition. With the military regime more accommodating in South Korea and opposition leaders moderating their demands towards the military, South Korea’s crisis over democracy was more likely to reach an agreement without the use of violence.

The level of violence the crises over democracy entailed in the two countries is consistent with these expectations. In Seoul, mass demonstrations that brought together reformists within the legislature and social movements were taking place nationwide by early June in a full-blown crisis for the regime.Footnote 65 Throughout the escalating crisis, however, the military exhibited restraint. Plans to mobilise units for a crackdown under martial law were never implemented. The head of the Defense Security Command, the intelligence branch of the military and one of the most influential organisations within the armed forces at the time, as well as the head of the Special Forces Command, opposed the use of force during internal deliberations.Footnote 66 Roh Tae Woo was aware of such reluctance within the military when preparing his June 29 declaration in support of democracy.Footnote 67 With key figures in the armed forces and government recommending the regime accept democratisation, protestors never had to face the military during the standoff over direct elections. The regime accepted a roadmap for democratisation and abided by its terms.

Unlike their South Korean counterparts, the Burmese generals repeatedly mobilised forces during the 1988 crisis. In March, protests in Rangoon against police violence precipitated mass protests against the regime. The response was deadly force from riot police, resulting in casualties. When rallies again spread across Rangoon in June after the closure of universities was lifted, the military fired on the crowds. Dozens of civilians, as well as riot police, died.Footnote 68

In July, demonstrations spread to the provinces. Amidst no signs of the unrest subsiding, Ne Win announced at the party meeting on the 23rd that he and several of his closest government associates would resign. However, General Sein Lwin, the head of the riot police, seen as complicit in the government’s hardline response to date, succeeded Ne Win. Despite the imposition of martial law in Rangoon on 3 August, further mobilisations followed. The largest rally occurred on 8 August, drawing approximately 1 million people in Rangoon and half a million in Mandalay. Soldiers again opened fire on demonstrators, killing hundreds in Rangoon alone.Footnote 69 On 12 August, Sein Lwin resigned.

Maung Maung replaced Sein Lwin as head of the ruling party and government, but the opposition and regime could not reach an agreement on the path towards democracy. The democratic opposition continued to organise daily demonstrations until September 1988. Meanwhile, looting began to spread, and many public services were suspended. With the regime’s offer of elections within three months showing no signs of restoring order, the military stepped in. Martial law was declared, and Maung was forced out on 18 September.Footnote 70 The armed forces entered the cities and broke up demonstrations, killing thousands in the process. Within days, the ‘democracy summer’ drew to a bloody close.Footnote 71

Without guarantees of a viable future out of power, the crisis over democracy in Burma entailed multiple rounds of repression by the armed forces against protestors. The regime ultimately decided to crush the protests. In contrast, amid assurances of continuing influence due to the threat from Pyongyang, the military in Seoul exhibited restraint, and an agreement on how it would transition out of power was reached peacefully.

Alternative explanations

Several rival explanations could account for the diverging response of military regimes in Rangoon and Seoul to mass protests in the late 1980s. One potential explanation is the economy. Influential works have argued that the degree of economic development and recent economic performance influence the stability of authoritarian rule and the propensity for democratisation. South Korea in the late 1980s was more economically developed and growing faster than Burma.

While the impact of higher levels of development and better annual economic performance on dictators’ hold on power continues to be debated,Footnote 72 recent works have shown that higher economic growth (and higher absolute levels of development) stabilize authoritarian rule.Footnote 73 In particular, studies examining the impact of short-term economic performance have found that democratic change becomes more likely with negative economic performance.Footnote 74

The state of the economies in Burma and South Korea in the late 1980s does not align with the changes that transpired in each country. South Korea in 1987 was amidst a historic economic boom facilitated by the ‘three lows’ in economic conditions: low oil prices, low interest rates, and low exchange rates.Footnote 75 Its economic growth rate during the three years from 1986 to 1988 averaged over 12 per cent. Burma, on the other hand, was mired in an economic downturn even before the instability and violence of 1988. Its economic growth rates in the three years before the 1988 crisis were 2.9 per cent, 1.1 per cent, and 4 per cent.Footnote 76 South Korea democratised, in other words, despite a stellar state of the economy in the late 1980s, and Burma remained autocratic even though the regime’s economic performance was poor.

From an institutional perspective, the presence of a legislature and opposition parties in Korea and the absence of such institutions in Burma could have been behind the contrast in outcomes regarding democratisation. The National Assembly provided a platform for Korean democratic leaders to become national figures: Kim Dae Jung and Kim Young Sam, the two leaders of the democratic movement in South Korea, were both legislators. Opposition parties also became important vehicles for social change. The party the two Kims jointly led was a crucial part of the coalition pushing for democracy. Although Burma had a legislative body, it was exclusively run by the ruling party and had no autonomy from the regime. The lack of a national political organisation pushing for democracy in 1988 may have played a role in Burma’s inability to democratise.

However, researchers have found that legislatures and political parties can also stabilise autocratic rule by providing 1) fora for negotiations with the opposition, 2) information on the preferences of the wider public, and 2) the means to co-opt the opposition.Footnote 77 Opposition parties remained active in Korea after the 1961 coup throughout military rule.Footnote 78 Viewed in light of such findings, the puzzle is why the legislature and opposition parties ceased to act as a vehicle for co-opting the opposition into the ruling coalition in 1987. In sum, not only is there no consensus on the effect of legislatures and parties on autocratic rule, but the argument that they were crucial to democratisation also cannot account for why South Korea’s legislature and political parties were insufficient to bring about democratisation prior to 1987.

Moreover, if political parties and legislatures can spur democratisation, why would military regimes allow them? The case of Burma seems to suggest that military regimes can and do choose to disempower them once they pose a threat. The democratic opposition in Burma formed the National League for Democracy following the 1988 crackdown. The NLD then won an overwhelming victory in the 1989 elections. Rather than leading to democratisation in Burma, however, this had the opposite effect. The military soon annulled the election and outlawed the NLD, driving thousands of activists abroad or underground. An opposition political party, even one with the majority support of the public and an overwhelming electoral victory, could not bring about democracy. Whether an opposition political party or legislature was present or not, therefore, cannot explain why South Korea democratised and Burma did not in the late 1980s.

Lastly, scholars have pointed to South Korea’s military alliance with the United States as a reason why the military refrained from using force and the country democratised in 1987. The United States preferred that violence not be used against peaceful protests, and South Korea’s reliance on the United States for its security facilitated democratisation by constraining the military. Burma did not have such formal ties with other countries, hence fewer limitations on what the military could do.

Scholars have verified that the United States opposed using force against demonstrators during the critical moments of 1987, both privately to the regime and through public statements.Footnote 79 However, US policy had been constant in urging military dictatorships in South Korea to gradually take steps toward democratisation and opposing oppressive measures against the democratic opposition. Therefore, it is hard to see how a consistent position on the part of the United States could have been the crucial causal factor in Korea democratising in 1987.

At the same time, it is unclear whether going against the stated American preferences carried significant costs for the military regime in Seoul. The last time there had been a crisis of military rule in South Korea, when Chun’s predecessor Park Chung Hee was assassinated by his intelligence chief, the United States had gradually muted its criticism of the military’s clampdown on dissent, including the massacre of civilian protestors in Gwangju.Footnote 80 Chun had experienced firsthand how even after being responsible for hundreds of casualties in Gwangju, President Reagan had welcomed him as his first foreign guest to the White House after he had consolidated power in Seoul. US interests during the Cold War in East Asia had priority over liberalisation in the South.Footnote 81 Considering this past, it is far from clear that US statements in 1987 were decisive for Chun and his fellow generals.

Conclusion

The contrasting security environments of Burma and South Korea have been a crucial factor in their diverging fates since the summer of 1987 and 1988. The sustained threat from Pyongyang credibly assured the South Korean military of continued influence and status out of power, making a negotiated transition to democracy more likely. Lacking such an external threat in Burma, it was difficult to assure the Burmese military amidst the demonstrations of a viable future out of power, and a return to the barracks became less likely.

The explanation for why military regimes democratise suggests that it may not be ruling militaries per se that are particularly prone to democratise, as the previous consensus holds, but that the security environment also contributes to their decisions to do so. The argument that the security environment can facilitate non-violent transitions to democracy also runs counter to the conventional wisdom that the North Korean threat inhibited the democratisation process in Korea.

Future research could subject the theory connecting the security environment and military regime democratisation, along with its implications, to tests with a larger number of cases.Footnote 82 While the dissimilarity in the security environments of Burma and South Korea is quite pronounced, it is unlikely to be the only significant factor that differs between the two cases. Other traits that the two cases did not share, both observable and unobservable, could also have influenced the outcomes in the two countries. There is also a possibility that the posited logic between the security environment and democratisation may hold only in a limited number of cases. Studies of additional cases of military regimes in varying security environments would provide leverage on the generalisability of the theory beyond the cases examined here.

Acknowledgement

The author would like to thank Michael Desch, Peter White, participants of the panel on “Militaries and the Public: Representativeness, Trust, and Intervention” at the 2020 Annual Meeting of the American Political Science Association, and the three anonymous reviewers for feedback on previous versions of this manuscript.

Appendix 1. Coup-proofing

Sustained external threats also inhibit the regime’s coup-proofing measures, removing a potential obstacle to democratisation. Dictators – including those leading military regimes – have good reason to interfere in military affairs, for military coups are the most common way authoritarian rulers are overthrown.Footnote 83 Autocrats counter the threat of coups by reducing resources for the armed forces, creating redundant organisations, exacerbating divisions within them, hindering coordination between different units and branches, and exploiting communal and familial loyalties in military promotions and recruitment.Footnote 84 Such ‘coup-proofing’ measures are designed to prevent collective action by (a faction of) the military against the ruler and to create and exacerbate divisions within it.

Such interference in military affairs threaten the status and leverage of the armed forces. Parallel armed forces, often with different chains of command, and the promotion of rivalries among military units with overlapping responsibilities make coordination to launch a coup more challenging but also undermine the military’s cohesion and its monopoly on the provision of national defence – a critical source of bargaining leverage that ensures the military will be protected after handing over power. Although the relationship between coups and democratisation continues to be debated,Footnote 85 coup-proofing measures can thus nullify the effect that external threats have in credibly assuring the military of a viable future out of power.

However, dictators face limits in instituting ‘coup-proofing’ measures when facing sustained international threats. These measures degrade the military’s ability to launch a coup but also harm the fighting capacity of the armed forces.Footnote 86 Resources diverted to redundant organisations and roles render the armed forces inefficient and weak. The proliferation of units with similar roles hampers battlefield coordination, a requisite for successful combat operations in modern warfare.Footnote 87 Promotion or assignment decisions made with loyalty as the most important criterion inhibit the professional development of leadership.Footnote 88 Frequent assignment changes for senior commanders to prevent ties that could be used against the leader also degrade the military’s capabilities.Footnote 89 Inter-agency rivalry cultivated by the regime and a lack of joint training across different units and branches negatively affect joint force capabilities, which are essential to success on the modern battlefield.Footnote 90

Facing long-running threats from abroad, the mutual interest of all parties in maintaining the cohesion and the capabilities of the armed forces against a foreign enemy limits how much coup-proofing a military regime’s leadership can enforce within its organisation. Therefore, the concerns that such measures raise for the military’s leverage and future out of power are alleviated. This facilitates democratisation.

Appendix 2. Burma and South Korea: The similarities

The similarities in the trajectory and timing of critical political developments in Burma and South Korea since the early twentieth century are striking. The two East Asian countries experienced decades of colonial rule during the first half of the twentieth century – South Korea under Japanese rule and Burma under British and Japanese rule. Both were liberated after World War II and became independent states in 1948.Footnote 91

With independence, leaders of the anti-colonial movement – U Nu in Burma and Syngman Rhee in South Korea – emerged as the first leaders of the newly liberated states. The Republic of Korea and the Union of Burma underwent substantial instability in the immediate years following independence. Common challenges included managing the post-colonial transition, strengthening weak state institutions, fostering economic growth, and countering communist insurgencies in the countryside.Footnote 92

Both countries were initially democratic – Rhee and U Nu came to power via free and fair elections. Rhee was elected president via a vote at the Constituent National Assembly in 1948, weeks before the Republic of Korea was officially established on 15 August. U Nu was elected to parliament in 1947, a year prior to formal Burmese independence. He then became the first prime minister of independent Burma after Aung San, the independence movement leader in line to become prime minister, was assassinated six months before the founding of the country.Footnote 93

Democratic rule did not endure in either country. Rhee turned authoritarian in power, repressing regime opponents, using violence to intimidate political rivals, and manipulating electoral rules (while also changing the constitution) to extend his time in office. He also engaged in widespread corruption to win elections, leading to mass protests and his downfall in 1960. U Nu ceded power to the military in 1958 amidst increasing domestic turmoil. He later revealed that the military top brass had coerced him into giving up power by threatening a coup.Footnote 94

Democracy briefly returned to both countries in 1960. In South Korea, mass protests against rigged elections in April of 1960 forced Rhee to step down. Free elections followed, and a democratic government under Prime Minister Chang Myon was formed. In the same year, after two years of military rule, U Nu returned to power when his party won a landslide victory in the general elections. The military transferred power back to the civilian, democratically elected government.

Military coups ousted both U Nu and Chang Myon within two years, however. General Park Chung-Hee led the procession of tanks in May 1961, ending the year of democracy brought about by the popular movement that toppled Syngman Rhee. General Ne Win followed with his coup in Rangoon less than a year later, in March 1962.

In contrast to the period of political volatility before the coups, military rule proved resilient, lasting twenty-seven years in the two capitals. Ne Win remained in office until his resignation in 1988, one of the longest uninterrupted reigns of a military dictator in modern history. In South Korea, the military regime survived Park’s assassination by his intelligence chief in 1979, with General Chun Doo-Hwan taking over after his death. He remained in office until democratisation in 1987.

In the late 1980s, popular calls for democracy triggered similar crises in the two nations. In South Korea, attempts at a cover-up by government security service agents and the police after torturing to death a university student in January of 1987 sparked mass protests across the country. In Burma, university students in Rangoon got into an altercation with law enforcement that was not politically motivated in March of 1988. When protests ensued against the violent response to the incident, police officers shot and killed one of the protesting university students. Demonstrations quickly spread to other campuses.

Both countries soon faced mass protests calling for an end to dictatorial rule. In both crises, military regimes made concessions to the opposition. Chun and Ne Win handed power to others. Their successors – Roh in South Korea and Maung Maung in Burma – initiated political negotiations for a transition to democratic rule.Footnote 95 During the summer of 1987 and 1988, democracy seemed well within reach in both countries. Many still refer to this period as the ‘Democracy Summer’ in Burma. In South Korea, the year 1987 remains synonymous with democratisation.Footnote 96

Moreover, it appeared almost inevitable at the time in Burma and South Korea that accepting the protestors’ demands for democratisation would lead to a loss of power for the military. Election results following the unrest provide evidence of majority support for democratisers. In South Korea, over 95 per cent of voters later in the same year ratified a constitutional amendment for direct presidential elections. The leaders of the democratic movement would gain about 55 per cent of the vote in the first direct presidential elections later the same year.Footnote 97 In the 1990 elections in Burma (which the regime later disregarded), the National League for Democracy (NLD) won 89 per cent of the seats in the general election. The average vote share NLD candidates received at the district level was 59 per cent.Footnote 98

References

1 Vincent Boudreau, Resisting Dictatorship: Repression and Protest in Southeast Asia (Cambridge University Press, 2004), p. 210; Federico Ferrara, ‘Why regimes create disorder: Hobbes’s dilemma during a Rangoon summer’, The Journal of Conflict Resolution, 47:3 (2003), p. 314.

2 Sung-Joo Han, ‘South Korea: Politics in transition’, in Larry Diamond, Juan J. Linz, and Seymour Martin Lipset (eds), Politics in Developing Countries: Comparing Experiences with Democracy (Lynne Rienner Publishers, 1990), pp. 313–50; James Cotton, ‘Understanding the state in South Korea: Bureaucratic authoritarian or state autonomy theory?’, Comparative Political Studies, 24:4 (1992), pp. 512–31; HeeMin Kim, Korean Democracy in Transition – A Rational Blueprint for Developing Societies (University Press of Kentucky, 2011).

3 Peter Gourevitch, ‘The second image reversed: The international sources of domestic politics’, International Organization, 32:4 (1978), pp. 881–912.

4 Barbara Geddes, ‘What do we know about democratization after 20 years?’, Annual Review of Political Science, 2 (1999), pp. 115–44; Naunihal Singh, The Strategic Logic of Military Coups (Johns Hopkins University Press, 2014); Eric Nordlinger, Soldiers in Politics: Military Coups and Governments (Prentice-Hall, 1977); Milan Svolik, ‘Contracting on violence: The moral hazard in authoritarian repression and military intervention in politics’, Journal of Conflict Resolution, 57:5 (2013), pp. 765–94; Brian Lai and Dan Slater, ‘Institutions of the offensive: Domestic sources of dispute initiation in authoritarian regimes, 1950–1992’, American Journal of Political Science, 50:1 (2006), pp. 113–26; Alexander Debs, ‘Living by the sword and dying by the sword? Leadership transition in and out of dictatorships’, International Studies Quarterly, 60:1 (2016), pp. 73–84.

5 According to contagion theories of social change, this divergence is more of an anomaly since the example of South Korean democratisation (as well as the Philippines) succeeding should have been a model for the Burmese in 1988, making their success more likely.

6 The rest were replaced by other forms of dictatorships. South Vietnam’s last regime before the end of the state is the only exception.

7 Algeria may be transitioning to democratic rule but Egypt has fallen under military rule since.

8 Sam Huntington, The Solider and the State: The Theory and Politics of Civil–Military Relations (Harvard University Press, 1957); Cemal Arbatli and Ekim Arbatli, ‘External threats and political survival: Can dispute involvement deter coup attempts?’, Conflict Management and Peace Science, 33:2 (2016), pp. 115–52; Stanislav Andreski, ‘On the peaceful disposition of military dictatorships’, Journal of Strategic Studies, 3:3 (1980), pp. 3–10; Mike Desch, Civilian Control of the Military – The Changing Security Environment (Johns Hopkins Press, 1999); Doug Finer, The Man on Horseback: The Role of the Military in Politics (Praeger, 2002); Paul Staniland, ‘Explaining civil–military relations in complex political environments: India and Pakistan in comparative perspective’, Security Studies, 17:2 (2008), pp. 322–62; R. Blake McMahon and Branislav Slantchev, ‘The guardianship dilemma: Regime security through and from the armed forces’, American Political Science Review, 109:2 (2015), pp. 297–313.

9 Immanuel Kant, Perpetual Peace (Columbia University Press, 1939).

10 Barbara Geddes, Joseph Wright, and Erika Frantz, ‘Military rule’, Annual Review of Political Science, 17:1 (2014), pp. 147–62; Jessica Weeks, ‘Strongmen and straw men: Authoritarian regimes and the initiation of international conflict’, American Political Science Review, 106:2 (2012), pp. 326–47; Nam Kyu Kim and Alex M. Kroeger, ‘Regime and leader instability under two forms of military rule’, Comparative Political Studies, 51:1 (2018), pp. 3–37.

11 Morris Janowitz, Military Institutions and Coercion in Developing Nations (Chicago University Press, 1977); Alfred Stepan, The Military in Politics: Changing Patterns in Brazil (Princeton University Press, 2015).

12 Singh, The Strategic Logic of Military Coups.

13 This prioritisation of unity on the part of military regimes represents a departure from the assumption that political actors prioritise maintaining power.

14 Abel Escriba-Folch, ‘Accountable for what? Regime type, performance, and the fate of outgoing dictators’, Democratization, 20:1 (2013), pp. 180–205; Geddes, Wright and Frantz, ‘Military rule’.

15 Nordlinger, Soldiers in Politics; Sam Huntington, ‘Democracy’s Third Wave’, Journal of Democracy, 2:2 (1991), pp. 12–34; Geddes, ‘What do we know about democratization’; Lai and Slater, ‘Institutions of the offensive’.

16 Debs, ‘Living by the sword’.

17 James Fearon, ‘Rationalist explanations for war’, International Organization, 49:3 (1995), pp. 379–414; Robert Powell, ‘War as a commitment problem’, International Organization, 60:1 (2006), pp. 169–203; Barbara Walter, Committing to Peace: The Successful Settlement of Civil Wars (Princeton University Press, 2002); Heins Goemans, ‘Which way out? The manner and consequence of losing office’, Journal of Conflict Resolution, 52:6 (2008), pp. 771–94.

18 An additional impact of sustained foreign threats is that they make it harder for the military regime to coup-proof against threats from within the armed forces. This is because measures to prevent collective action within the armed forces also weaken the fighting capacity of the military against external enemies. A more detailed discussion is in Appendix 1.

19 Staniland, ‘Explaining civil–military relations’, p. 346.

20 Kemal Karpat, ‘Political developments in Turkey, 1950–70’, Middle Eastern Studies, 8.3 (1972), pp. 349–75.

21 John Waterbury, The Egypt of Nasser and Sadat: The Political Economy of Two Regimes (Princeton University Press, 2014).

22 These include joint history of colonial rule, liberation, short periods of post-independence democracy under the leadership of anti-colonial movement leaders, military coups, subsequent periods of stable rule by the armed forces, and mass movements for democracy. A more detailed discussion of the similarities is in Appendix 2.

23 Like Chun, Roh was a former army general. The two had been classmates at the Korea Military Academy. Roh had supported Chun during his ascent to the presidency following Park Chung Hee’s assassination in 1979 and joined Chun in the ruling Democratic Justice Party (DJP) after retiring from the army.

24 Kim Dae Jung left the opposition party he had been a member of with Kim Young Sam to form a new party (the Peace Democratic Party) that would support his candidacy.

25 The ruling DJP received the most seats but fell well short of a majority with 125 of 299 seats in the National Assembly. Kim Dae Jung and Kim Young Sam’s party won, respectively, 70 and 59 seats.

26 Ferrara, ‘Why regimes create disorder’.

27 William Stueck, Rethinking the Korean War (Princeton University Press, 2013).

28 Joonbum Bae, ‘The North Korean regime, domestic instability, and foreign policy’, North Korean Review, 14:1 (2018), pp. 85–101.

29 Roland Bleiker and Young-Ju Hoang, ‘Remembering and forgetting the Korean War’, in D. Bell (ed.), Memory, Trauma and World Politics (Palgrave Macmillan, 2006), pp. 195–212.

30 Soul Park and Seung Joon Paik, ‘Command coordination and tactical effectiveness in counter-insurgency operations: Lessons from the South Korean campaign’, Small Wars & Insurgencies, 29:2 (2019), pp. 291–315.

31 In 1983, perhaps marking the low point since the end of the Korean War in South Korea–USSR relations, Korean Airlines Flight 007 was shot down by Soviet military aircraft, killing all 269 passengers on board, mostly South Korean nationals. While Mikhail Gorbachev came to power in the USSR in 1985, Moscow expanded military cooperation with North Korea that year. Détente had yet to arrive in Asia; Kyongsoo Lho, ‘Seoul–Moscow relations: Looking to the 1990s’, Asian Survey, 29:12 (1989), pp. 1153–66.

32 Chi Shad Liang, Burma’s Foreign Relations – Neutralism in Theory and Practice (Praeger, 1990).

33 Robert Jervis, ‘The Impact of the Korean War on the Cold War’, Journal of Conflict Resolution, 24:4 (1980), pp. 563–92.

34 John F. Cady, The United States and Burma (Harvard University Press, 1976), p. 166.

35 Liang, Burma’s Foreign Relations.

36 Jurgen Haacke, ‘Myanmar and ASEAN’, Adelphi Paper, 46:381 (2006), p. 17.

37 Haacke, ‘Myanmar and ASEAN’.

38 Ian Holliday and Zaw Htet, ‘International Assistance’, in Adam Simpson, Nicholas Farrelly, and Ian Holliday (eds), Routledge Handbook of Contemporary Myanmar (Routledge, 2018), pp. 347–56.

39 Mary Callahan, Making Enemies: War and State Building in Burma (Cornell University Press, 2004); Martin Smith, State of Strife: The Dynamics of Ethnic Conflict in Burma, vol. 36 (East West Center, 2007); Martin Smith, Burma: Insurgency and the Politics of Ethnicity (Zed Books, 1999).

40 Robert A. Holmes, ‘Burma’s foreign policy toward China since 1962’, Pacific Affairs, 45:2 (1972), pp. 240–54.

41 Fan Hongwei, ‘China–Burma geopolitical relations in the Cold War’, Journal of Current Southeast Asian Affairs, 31:1 (2012), pp. 7–27.

42 Toshihiro Kudo, ‘China’s policy toward Myanmar: Challenges and prospects’, Institute of Developing Economies – Japan External Trade Organization (2012).

43 Kwanhun Club, ‘Kwanhun Club Debate with Kim Dae-Jung’ (21 August 2025), available at: {https://www.kwanhun.com/page/brd_view.php?idx=40057&startPage=225&listNo=29&table=cs_bbs_data&code=talk3}.

44 Kwanhun Club, ‘Kwanhun Club Debate with Kim Dae-Jung’.

45 Edward Baker, ‘Kim Dae-jung’s role in the democratization of South Korea’, Education about Asia, 19:1 (2014), pp. 66–71.

46 In-sup Han, ‘Kwangju and beyond: Coping with past state atrocities in South Korea’, Human Rights Quarterly, 27:3 (2005), pp. 998–1045.

47 Kwanhun Club, ‘Kwanhun Club debate with Kim Dae-Jung’.

48 Kwanhun Club, ‘Kwanhun Club Debate with Kim Young Sam’ (21 August 2025), available at: {https://www.kwanhun.com/page/brd_view.php?idx=40059&startPage=225&listNo=31&table=cs_bbs_data&code=talk3}.

49 AsiaWeek, ‘Interview: Kyi Maung’, AsiaWeek (13 July 1990).

50 Mirroring the Nuremberg reference, leader of the opposition Aung San Suu Gyi would later characterise the military regime as ‘fascist’. Voice of America, ‘Excerpts from Interview with Suu Gyi, July 19th, 1989’ (21 August 2025), available at: {https://www.voanews.com/a/excerpts-from-interview-articles-on-1989-aung-san-suu-kyi-house-arrest-109999214/175056.html}.

51 Maung Maung, The 1988 Uprising in Burma (Yale University Press, 1999).

52 Aung Gyi later ran in the 1990 elections after forming a separate party. It fielded candidates in over half of the 492 constituencies across Burma, winning one seat while the NLD swept over 80 per cent of the electoral districts (Derek Tonkin, ‘The 1990 elections in Burma: Broken promises or failed communication?’, Contemporary Southeast Asia, 29:1 [2007], pp. 33–54). There are likely many reasons why Aung Gyi’s party failed to win many seats. However, from the military’s point of view, the poor showing of moderates like Aung Gyi heightened doubts about whether the new democratic leaders would protect the interests of the military after the transition.

53 In contrast, in South Korea, Kim Dae-Jung and Kim Young-Sam merely ‘recommended that Chun step down as president of the Democratic Justice Party and set up an interim Cabinet to ensure impartiality in the coming elections. But they said this was not a demand.’ This recommendation was made after the regime had accepted direct presidential elections via the 29 June Declaration. Refer to Lena Sun, ‘S Koreans mark death of student’, Washington Post (5 July 1987). Chun would resign his post as head of the ruling party on 10 July. A partial reshuffling of the cabinet – but not a transition to an interim cabinet – occurred a few days later.

54 Aung San Suu Kyi, Freedom from Fear and Other Writings (Penguin Books, 1991), p. 208.

55 Tonkin, ‘The 1990 elections in Burma’; Robert Taylor, ‘Myanmar 1990: New era or old?’, Southeast Asian Affairs (1991), pp. 199–219.

56 James Guyot, ‘Myanmar in 1990: The unconsummated election’, Asian Survey, 31:2 (1991), pp. 205–11.

57 Robert Bedeski, The transformation of South Korea: Reform and reconstitution in the sixth republic under Roh Tae Woo, 1987–1992 (Routledge, 2002).

58 Sung-Joo Han, ‘South Korea in 1987: The politics of democratization’, Asian Survey, 28:1 (1988), pp 52–61.

59 Kwanhun Club, ‘Kwanhun Club debate with Roh Tae Woo (12 November 1987)’ (21 August 2025), available at: {https://www.kwanhun.com/page/brd_view.php?idx=40060&startPage=225&listNo=32&table=cs_bbs_data&code=talk3}.

60 Maureen Aung-Thwin, ‘Burmese days’, Foreign Affairs, 68:2 (1989), pp. 143–61.

61 Bumra Watcher, ‘Burma in 1988: There came a whirlwind’, Asian Survey, 29:2 (1989), pp. 174–80.

62 Maung, The 1988 Uprising in Burma.

63 Suu Kyi, Freedom from Fear, p. 208.

64 Taylor, ‘Myanmar 1990’.

65 James Fowler, ‘The United States and South Korean democratization’, Political Science Quarterly, 114:2 (1999), pp. 265–88.

66 Cho Kab-Je, ‘Preparation orders for martial law sent to units that would be dispatched obtained’, Monthly Chosun (February 2020).

67 Roh Tae Woo, Roh Tae Woo Memoirs 1 (Chosun News Press, 2011), chap. 14.

68 Christina Fink, Living Silence: Burma under Military Rule (Zed Books, 2001), p. 53; James F. Guyot, ‘Burma in 1988: “Perestroika” with a military face’, Southeast Asian Affairs, 31:2 (1989), pp. 107–133.

69 Fink, Living Silence, p. 55.

70 Mya Maung, ‘The Burma road to the past’, Asian Survey, 39:2 (1999), pp. 265–86.

71 Although the military promised that elections would be held soon after it restored order, the armed forces later disregarded the May 1990 election results when the democratisers, now organised under the National League for Democracy, won an overwhelming majority; David Steinberg, Burma/Myanmar: What Everyone Needs to Know (Oxford University Press, 2013), p. 79.

72 For the classic argument that economic development and modernisation lead to democratisation, see Seymour Lipset, ‘Some social requisites of democracy: Economic development and political legitimacy’, American Political Science Review, 53:1 (1959), pp. 69–105.

73 Adam Przeworski, Democracy and development: Political institutions and economic performance, 1950–1999 (Cambridge University Press, 2000).

74 Paul J. Burke and Andrew Leigh, ‘Do output contractions trigger democratic change?’, American Economic Journal: Macroeconomics, 2:4 (2010), pp. 124–57; Markus Brückner and Antonio Ciccone, ‘Rain and the democratic window of opportunity’, Econometrica, 79:3 (2011), pp. 923–47.

75 Uk Heo, Houngcheul Jeon, Hayam Kim, and Okjin Kim, ‘The political economy of South Korea: Economic growth, democratization, and financial crisis’, Maryland Series in Contemporary Asian Studies 2008, 2 (2008), p. 1.

76 The World Bank, ‘World Development Indicators (2012). Change in GDP’ (21 August 2025), available at: {http://data.worldbank.org/indicator/}.

77 Jennifer Gandhi and Adam Przeworski, ‘Authoritarian institutions and the survival of autocrats’, Comparative Political Studies, 40:11 (2007), pp. 1279–301; Edmund Malesky, Paul Schuler, and Anh Tran, ‘The adverse effects of sunshine: a field experiment on legislative transparency in an authoritarian assembly’, American Political Science Review, 106:4 (2012), pp. 762–86.

78 Byung-Kook Kim and Ezra F. Vogel (eds), The Park Chung Hee Era: The Transformation of South Korea (Harvard University Press, 2011), chap. 13.

79 William Stueck, ‘Democratization in Korea: The United States roles, 1980 and 1987’, International Journal of Korean Studies II, 1 (1998), pp. 1–26.

80 Fowler, ‘The United States and South Korean democratization’.

81 Ronald McLaurin and Chung-in Moon, ‘US foreign policymaking toward South Korea: Issues, structures, and processes’, in Man Woo Lee, Ronald D. McLaurin, and Chung In Moon (eds), Alliance Under Tension (Westview Press, 1988), pp. 129–56.

82 Joonbum Bae, ‘International conflict, military rule, and violent authoritarian breakdown’, International Interactions, 45:5 (2019), pp. 804–37.

83 Svolik, ‘Power sharing and leadership dynamics in authoritarian regimes’, American Journal of Political Science, 53:2 (2009), pp. 477–94.

84 James Quinlivan, ‘Coup-proofing: Its practice and consequences in the Middle East’, International Security, 24:2 (1999), pp. 131–65.

85 Clayton L. Thyne and Jonathan M. Powell, ‘Coup d’état or coup d’autocracy? How coups impact democratization, 1950–2008’, Foreign Policy Analysis, 12:2 (2016), pp. 192–213; George Derpanopoulos, Erica Frantz, Barbara Geddes, and Joseph Wright, ‘Are coups good for democracy?’, Research & Politics, 3:1 (2016); Holger Albrecht, Kevin Koehler, and Austin Schutz, ‘Coup agency and prospects for democracy’, International Studies Quarterly, 65:4 (2021), pp. 1052–63.

86 Caitlin Talmadge, ‘The puzzle of personalist performance: Iraqi battlefield effectiveness in the Iran–Iraq War’, Security Studies, 22:2 (2013), pp. 180–221.

87 Biddle, Military Power: Explaining Victory and Defeat in Modern Battle (Princeton University Press, 2004).

88 Stephen Biddle and Stephen Long, ‘Democracy and military effectiveness: A deeper look’, Journal of Conflict Resolution, 48:4 (2004), pp. 525–46.

89 Risa Brooks, ‘Making military might: Why do states fail and succeed? A review essay’, International Security, 28:2 (2003), pp 149–91.

90 John J. Mearsheimer, ‘Maneuver, mobile defense, and the NATO central front’, International Security, 6:3 (1982), pp. 104–22.

91 Josef Silverstein, Burma – Military Rule and the Politics of Stagnation (Cornell University Press, 1977).

92 David Steinberg, Burma’s Road Toward Development – Growth and Ideology under Military Rule (Westview Press, 1981).

93 Aung San is also the father of the current leader of Burma, Aung San Suu Gyi.

94 Ian Holliday, Burma Redux – Global Justice and the Quest for Political Reform in Myanmar (Columbia University Press, 2011).

95 Maung Maung was the second leader after Ne Win. Sein Lwin followed Ne Win into office and implemented a harsher crackdown on demonstrators in an attempt to end the crisis. He lasted seventeen days as the leader of the ruling party before resigning amidst backlash at his decision to use force.

96 A movie released in 2017, on the thirtieth anniversary of South Korean democratisation, about the chain of events leading to the military regime’s acceptance of democratisation, is simply titled 1987.

97 As detailed below, however, this vote was split among two candidates.

98 The level of support for the NLD would remain remarkably stable over the years. In 2015, elections were held as part of the liberalisation process. In the first general election since 1990 in which the NLD fully participated, the NLD won about 86 per cent of the seats with about 57 per cent of the vote at the district level; Roger Huang, ‘Myanmar’s Way to Democracy and the Limits of the 2015 Elections’, Asian Journal of Political Science, 25:1 (2017), pp. 25–44.