Paved By Good Intentions
Coming Soon…
“There is just no way around it in Yangon. She is the one!” says Marte Nilsen, a senior researcher at the Peace Research Institute Oslo (PRIO), about the centrality of Aung San Suu Kyi in Myanmar’s political imagination. Nilsen has studied political conflicts in Myanmar and Thailand for decades, worked on the Rohingya crisis in Bangladesh, and collaborated closely with local partners inside and outside Myanmar. In this conversation, she traces Norway’s evolving engagement with Myanmar across more than thirty years of humanitarian crises, foreign policy dilemmas, corporate entanglements, and now, the dilemmas posed by the junta’s promised 2025 elections.
Nilsen begins by situating Norwegian involvement with Myanmar from the 1988 uprising and subsequent repression that captured international attention. Burmese exiles in Norway helped establish a solidarity movement, and when Aung San Suu Kyi received the Nobel Peace Prize in 1991, Burmese affairs received unusual prominence in Norwegian media and public life. Civil society groups, Norwegian People’s Aid, and Norwegian Church Aid engaged across the Thai border to support the democracy movement. From 2004, a handful of Norwegian organizations began tentative work inside Myanmar, and when a new government in Oslo took office in 2005, Norway’s engagement deepened. But the devastating Cyclone Nargis in 2008, and subsequent shameful response by the junta to block aid, shifted the focus. Local civil society stepped into the breach, showing both their capability and necessity, and recognizing this change, expanded its support in that direction.
For Norway, she stresses, foreign policy in those days rested on two “legs”: solidarity with the Burmese people, and “small country diplomacy,” by which Norway tried to punch above its weight by aligning with its closest ally, the United States. In meetings during the early 2000s in Washington DC, he notes how Myanmar was often one of the two items on the agenda. In other words, Norwegian officials saw engagement in Myanmar as a way to stay relevant on the global stage.
When President Thein Sein launched reforms in 2011 and Aung San Suu Kyi implicitly endorsed them by entering the 2012 by-elections, Norway began channeling its assistance back toward state governance. Aung San Suu Kyi proved that she was the country’s “indisputable leader” by winning the elections in 2015 and 2020; all roads ran through her. However, criticism began to be heard from ethnic areas that she was too Bamar-centric, and then the Rohingya crisis caused a very serious dilemma for foreign nations wanting to support Myanmar’s opening. Of course, the 2021 coup destroyed everything.
The question of whether the international community should support the military’s proposed 2025 elections or not is addressed through a conversation about the philosophy of engaging with despotic regimes: whether they should be courted in hopes of gradual liberalization, or isolated as pariahs. Nilsen believes there is no blanket answer, and that Myanmar’s recent history is a case in point. Before the elections, even though they were the sole power in the country, she believed that the military was moving tentatively towards opening the country based on the (however flawed) 2008 Constitution, and that the regime could be worked with in some way. Today, by contrast, it is the opposite. The military violently overthrew the democratically elected government and are taking the country in the opposite direction; they are viciously at war with their own people, and widely seen as untrustworthy and illegitimate.
Nilsen notes that Norway has not necessarily followed an ideologically-rooted policy towards Myanmar. In practice, shifts in Norwegian domestic politics, such as the 2013 election that brought a Conservative government, redirected focus from its initial civil society and peace focus to more commercial interests, a fact that segues to the topic of Telenor, the Norwegian telecom giant. Telenor entered Myanmar during Thein Sein era. Nilsen explains that it initially undertook extensive conflict analysis and consultations with experts, solidarity groups, and activists. The company won trust and quickly became Myanmar’s leading provider. Yet over time, Myanmar became “just another part of the portfolio,” and institutional memory eroded. When the 2021 coup came, Telenor withdrew rather than endure the political and ethical quagmire. Nilsen is sharply critical: “That was extremely irresponsible!” She maintains that telecommunications had been integral to democratization “on the ground,” empowering citizens to communicate and organize.
Asked about Norway’s alignment with U.S. goals, Nilsen clarifies that their engagement in Myanmar was not dictated by Washington, though clearly “it was willed by the US.” Norway sought areas where its involvement overlapped with American interests, allowing it to be relevant despite its small population. Financial power also played a role: Norway’s sovereign wealth fund, one of the world’s largest, made the country significant beyond its size. “We do use our financial muscles also to be reckoned with,” she acknowledges, even as Norway relies on alliances and votes in international fora.
After the coup, Norwegian foreign policy shifted sharply. In fact, changes had already begun because of the Rohingya genocide in 2017, when Western governments faced the dilemma of sanctioning military leaders while still wanting to support Aung San Suu Kyi’s government. By 2021, options were limited. Norway condemned the coup, halted all cooperation with state institutions, and moved to redirect aid through trusted NGOs and international partners. Norwegian People’s Aid continued to work for a time inside Yangon before relocating operations to Bangkok due to security risks. Funding for Myanmar has continued, both through cross-border assistance and through organizations like Save the Children and Norwegian Church Aid. Yet details are deliberately opaque, given the sensitivity for partners on the ground and for Thailand, which hosts many groups but worries about the optics of hosting anti-junta networks. Norway also channels money through the UN, though this raises debates about effectiveness in reaching the most vulnerable.
Diplomatic relations have also become fraught. Norway opened its embassy in Yangon in 2013, while Myanmar opened one in Oslo. The ambassador appointed during Thein Sein’s period continued after the coup but she later stepped down. The junta nominated a replacement, but his credentials have not been accepted by the Norwegian king. The Myanmar embassy in Norway thus remains in limbo. Nilsen notes that before stepping down, the previous ambassador gave a striking interview early after the coup, openly voicing concern for protesting relatives and hinting at disapproval of the military’s actions. Whether the junta’s nominee will ever be recognized is uncertain, but Nilsen doubts the generals have the capacity to pressure European governments on such issues.
A related controversy emerged when a Myanmar general was reported visiting Oslo in July 2025. Nilsen clarifies that this was not a state visit but participation in the Oslo Forum, which is hosted through Norway’s MFA, and the program is organized by the Centre for Humanitarian Dialogue. The forum regularly invites contentious figures, from Taliban representatives to generals from conflict zones, for confidential track-two talks. While the leak of the general’s attendance caused outrage, Nilsen stresses the importance of context: “It would be very surprising if you invite someone in a mediation forum and there’s no one from the opposition.” She adds that the logic of that organization is to create neutral spaces for dialogue, not to choose sides.
Attention then turns to the junta’s long-promised election, which Nilsen strongly believes can neither be free nor fair. Nilsen expects Norway and the EU will not legitimize the results. Yet she concedes that for some ASEAN states, China, or perhaps Japan, such an election could provide cover to normalize relations with the military. In reality, she notes that many neighbors have already normalized relations with the junta in practice, particularly Thailand, whose own military-dominated politics bear resemblance to Myanmar’s, and where trade and cross-border dealings continue largely as before. The Thai constitution was influenced by Myanmar’s 2008 charter, and the cycles of coups and elections echo across the border. Democratic activists, however, have drawn inspiration from each other’s struggles.
Looking to the future, Nilsen says that Myanmar is unlikely to rise to the top of foreign policy agendas. At best, Norway will continue stable funding and seek to coordinate with European and U.S. partners, while relying on ASEAN where possible, though Nilsen hopes Oslo is also developing its own independent avenues. But Nilsen stresses that in the end, while foreign governments can provide support, solidarity, and funding, agency ultimately lies with the Burmese people.