Episode #275: The Longyi Revolution and Beyond
“Every woman I've talked to has told me that we have to do the revolution twice. It means that not only revolution against the military junta, but also against the patriarchy within the resistance groups. We are in the middle of severe armed conflict and also grave human rights violations. We always say that we as activists should not act like a dictator while we are fighting against a dictator.”
Born and raised in Myanmar, Nyein Chan May left shortly before the coup to study political science and sociology in Germany, where she still lives, with a focus on intersectional feminism, a subject unavailable at Myanmar universities. Following the coup, she co-founded the group, German Solidarity Myanmar, to support the democracy movement through political education, public relations, and advocacy. She also launched a podcast, Ahtetsin (named after the decorative or embroidered band on the lower border of a women’s longyi), which endeavors to disseminate feminist theories to a wide, Burmese audience.
“When we think about Myanmar, it is a complex tapestry of ethnicities, identities … and discriminations!” she explains. “Without considering the intersectionality of these discrimination patterns, any attempt to find solutions would be ineffective.” In other words, social and cultural challenges faced by diverse groups in Myanmar cannot really be addressed without a deep understanding of how the various forms of oppression within the country intersect. “[Individuals] may confront barriers not only due to their gender but also because of their ethnic background or other identities,” she says. “This results in a complex web of oppression that requires nuanced and intersectional approaches to address effectively.”
Focusing specifically on gender issues, Nyein Chan May describes how, even during this revolutionary period, women in the resistance are fighting not only against the military junta, but also the patriarchy in their resistance groups. The “Longyi Revolution” is a poignant example of this challenge. In brief, it was a form of protest by women early on in the post coup resistance, using their traditional garments to embarrass and spook soldiers. They would hang their longyi across streets, from balconies, and draped over statues, which forced the soldiers to walk under them when on patrol or in response to protests. The effectiveness of this form of protest was based on the fact that some men—particularly soldiers—have a deep-seated superstition about walking under women's clothing (particularly those associated with menstruation); they believe it strips them of their power (pon), and portends bad luck. So these acts of the “Longyi Revolution” created a visual and psychological barrier against the military. “Our longyi [is] our flag,” she says. “I've talked with the people who have led this movement. And for me, it is always clear that, as women of Myanmar, if we fight against the patriarchy, if we fight against the military dictatorship, we will have our own flag. And this flag is our longyi! This resonates with the women who led this movement.”
The military, with its hyper-masculine and superstitious culture, found itself paralyzed by this simple yet potent symbol of feminine defiance. The soldiers, deeply afraid of the supposed curse they might incur by walking under the longyis, often resorted to cutting down the wires and lines from which they were hung, delaying the soldiers’ advances.
But this act of defiance also had another, underlying meaning, because the longyi itself has come to be viewed by Burmese women as a symbol of their oppression by a strongly patriarchal society; it is emblematic of the culture’s sharply stratified and sexist gender roles. So the protests challenged both the military's authority and those oppressive societal norms. In other words, they were not only an overt actions against the military, but not-so-subtle reminders of the pervasive sexism that Burmese women were also fighting against, both within their society and within the resistance movement, itself.
Sadly, Nyein Chan May says that the Longyi Revolution was looked upon by some men in the resistance and in the broader society as too provocative and disrespectful to traditional mores. “Some people will say that it would damage the image of the revolution or that we should fight together against the military,” she says. “[They say] that we should fight against the common enemy firstly, and later we can talk about gender equality and so on.” Yet the act of reclaiming and repurposing the longyi, which has long viewed by some Burmese men as representing something unclean and inferior, remains a potent political and feminist statement that continues to illustrate Burmese women’s dual fight—against the military junta, and more broadly, against the patriarchy.
An art exhibition in Brussels focused on the recent events in Myanmar featured a tunnel made of traditional Burmese women's garments. “We wanted to bring Myanmar back on the agenda, into the daily thinking of people around the world,” Nyein Chan May explains. “When you see the the artworks, these specifically focus on women and their daily lives, and also their survival. And they are resilient! I know that word is very fashionable, but I have to use that word, as much as I can. Because when we when we talk about the exhibition, the very first thing is women and marginalized groups in Myanmar don't want to be seen as victims. This is a very important message.” Nyein Chan May emphasizes that Burmese women continue to show remarkable courage in confronting daily social and political challenges even in the face of the continuing conflict. She deems the Brussels exhibition very much a success, and she notes that several European Union officials found the work to be a real eye-opener. However, she adds one curious fact: because of a sign that explained traditional Burmese beliefs about the longyi at the entrance of the “tunnel,” she noticed that even Western male visitors hesitated to walk through, underscoring deep-seated beliefs about masculinity and femininity that transcend culture and geography.
Nyein Chan May addresses another challenge that women face within the resistance, namely, the continual need to prove their worth vis-a-vis their male counterparts. Besides frequently being underestimated, women in the resistance have too often been subjected to sexual harassment; women who join the resistance over strong societal and familial opposition find themselves facing discrimination even within their own ranks. “I talked with women at the front and also with marginalized groups who are working on the ground,” she says. “They mentioned that they have to prove they are strong enough to go into the battlefield or that they are not a burden for their male comrades! This kind of inequality and discrimination… highlights the ongoing struggle against both the military junta and entrenched patriarchal norms within their own ranks.”
The plight of female and LGBTQIA+ political prisoners is a related issue. They are often singled out for particularly severe mistreatment, including torture and sexual assault. In particular, the language used during interrogations takes on an explicitly sexual and demeaning tone, further aiming to break their spirit. For LGBTQIA+ prisoners, the abuse is based in homophobia and transphobia, with perpetrators targeting their identities in especially cruel and degrading ways. What is more, these prisoners are often isolated, denied basic sanitary products, and subjected to conditions that exacerbate their suffering. In these cases, Nyein Chan May emphasizes that this torture and inhumane treatment extends beyond the physical and goes into psychological warfare; the junta's aim is not just to punish but to humiliate and dehumanize, and to discourage future activism.
Yet despite these horrific conditions, the resilience of these prisoners is evident as well. Many continue to contribute to the movement in any way they can, demonstrating unwavering commitment to the democratic struggle. “The voices of women political prisoners and LGBTQIA+ political prisoners are still unheard, but they are not voiceless,” she says. “This is what I always say; they are not voiceless! They have their voices and try to send their messages through their attorneys and families, but people sometimes overlook these voices.” But speaking up is sometimes far from easy, even from a place of relative safety. “When they are released, they don't dare to share their stories, they don't share to talk what they have been going through in the prisons or in interrogation centers, because they have they are afraid of being stigmatized by the society by the community,” she says. “So it is important to look at the root cause of why this os happening. And for me, it's a labyrinth.”
Back in Germany, Nyein Chan May’s advocacy work doesn’t just focus on individuals and the diaspora community, she also advocates for Germany to become more involved in supporting Myanmar’s democracy movement. As previous podcast guest Helen Buccholz also spoke about, the German public and government has been minimally informed on the ongoing crisis, especially in the wake of more recent issues in Ukraine and Palestine. Nyein Chan May has been especially interested in the “Feminist Foreign Policy” that Germany has adapted, which recognizes that sustainable peace and development cannot be achieved without gender equality. This policy aims to integrate a gender perspective into all areas of foreign policy, from diplomatic initiatives and development aid to humanitarian assistance and security, and Nyein Chan May references it when arguing for more direct involvement by the German government with the resistance movement. However, by her own admission, Germany’s Feminist Foreign Policy is still a work in progress, so it may be some time before the policy bears real fruit.
Taking a step back, Nyein Chan May addresses the issue of international support. She says that unfortunately,aid is usually reduced to basic financial support. “The international community always says, ‘OK, we have this amount of money we just donated to the UN. It’s done!’ But we always say that supporting Myanmar is not only about giving money. Yes, of course we have the biggest humanitarian crisis in the region. But in the meantime, supporting Myanmar has to include political will.” She stresses a more nuanced approach that encompasses diplomatic engagement, development cooperation, humanitarian aid, and support for civil societies. Supporting civil society organizations, independent media, and pro-democracy groups is essential for amplifying the voices of women and marginalized communities.
Returning to the theme of an oppressive patriarchy, Nyein Chan May believes that comprehensive education reform is essential to unlearn those norms and to promote a more gender-sensitive approach. “Without proper education, people cannot learn what patriarchy is,” she says. “People cannot see society through critical eyes. This also should start within families, like how sons and daughters are raised, and also [incorporating] gender-neutral raising of children. [This kind of] knowledge is to be passed from society to the people, and the most effective way [is] education.”
Regardless of the approach taken to achieve equality, Nyein Chan May asserts that a core challenge is finding the right metrics. Traditional metrics, such as equal employment rates, often fail to capture the complexities and barriers that women continue to face in the pursuit of true equality. “For me having 50/50 in a committee or in a cabinet or whatsoever, it doesn't mean really gender equality!” she exclaims. “Gender equality means more than that, more than fifty percent of women and fifty percent of women men sitting inside a room. [For example, one aspect of] gender equality means that the unpaid work of these [female] domestic work has to be recognized.”
Nyein Chan May believes that the progress that the younger generation has made in understanding and advocating for gender equality is promising, but there is still much work to be done. “Women's rights and the rights of marginalized groups are not to be considered separately from the revolution!” she says. Here she reiterates that the revolution is not just against the junta: it is also against social traditions that perpetuate inequality, so victory over the military regime must go hand in hand with social and cultural victories for women and marginalized groups around the country. “If we understand the broader definition of the word, ‘revolution,’ it is not only about fighting against the military junta; it is about building a new society, about defending ourselves against these discriminatory ideologies. If you define yourself as an actor in the revolution, then stop thinking separately about women's rights and the rights of marginalized groups from the whole context of the revolution.”