Myanmar is experiencing a plethora of changes. Its political scene is liberalising rapidly. Political prisoners have been released. Public demonstrations and strikes of workers have been legalised. The iconic Aung San Suu Kyi has been elected to the parliament and the post-junta state structures have been broadly civilianised. While most Western sanctions have been lifted, the country has tripled the number of its official diplomatic relations in less than two years.
But the success of the transition initiated by the disbanding of the junta in 2011 much depends on whether the once all-powerful Myanmar armed forces (or Tatmadaw) are willing to eventually return to their barracks, and leave policy-making to the civilian sphere.
Far from being a sudden revolutionary moment, the current transition has indeed been conceived, prepared and supervised by the military itself. The Tatmadaw remains relevant in the post-junta landscape it has helped shape, and it still has the legal and constitutional instruments to intervene in politics and decisively influence the whole policy-making process in the coming decade.
One key issue most outside observers fail to appreciate is the continuing role of the military in the formulation of Myanmar's foreign policy. The outside world has long had to deal with Myanmar through the latter's generals and men in uniform. And will continue to do so.
National armed forces are natural instruments of their state's foreign policies. As Carl von Clausewitz's adage claims, war in which armies excel is just a logical extension of diplomacy. As managers of violence and protectors of the state, soldiers are supposedly more preoccupied with the security of their country than civilians. What is more, boundaries between military and non-military matters in international politics today have proved to be extremely imprecise. Therefore, the defence, security and foreign policies of a state understandably fall into the wide range of interests of its soldiers.
This is exactly how the Tatmadaw has construed its role over the years, that of a guardian protecting all the country's interests. Under the cover of national security priorities, Myanmar's soldiers have thus been propelled into broader foreign policy roles. They have long imposed their views of the world on to the Myanmar Foreign Service administration. And will continue to do so, although they have been offered an opportunity to redefine what constitutes national security with the post-2011 transition.
Indeed, thanks to the post-junta transition, it seems that a wide range of social, economic, and some political matters now do not fall any longer in that non-negotiable National Security scope. Civilians may fare better, the army top brass may seem to now reckon. But other political issues still matter, especially the ethnic conundrum. The age-old nationalist tendency to consider anything foreign with suspicion still lingers among Myanmar's military elites.
Thanks to the 2008 Constitution, the Tatmadaw enjoy instruments to intervene in diplomacy. The constitutional text legally provides three significant ministries to the military institution: Home, Security/Defence, and Border Affairs. The three of them give a great deal of importance to what constitute national security and how relations with Myanmar's neighbours and the outside world should be defined. The Foreign Affairs minister also has a seat reserved at the opaque National Defence and Security Council, which is allegedly monitoring policy-making. A fourth of the seats of the national parliament are nominally reserved for military MPs. Since the parliament is increasingly emerging as a body influencing policy and checking the executives activities, the military there can have a strong sway. The parliament's approval is needed to establish (and sever) diplomatic relations with foreign countries.
The post-junta state structure therefore remains one, in which praetorianism is embedded. Far from being an impossible task, the reappropriation of the foreign policy-making by civilians and career diplomats will, however, take time. But for now, the military is there, and intends to arbitrate the civilian scene and guide policy-making, including in foreign policy matters.
But many political scientists have suggested that a state governed by praetorians and military guardians is not necessarily a state at war with its neighbours and other foreign states.
A praetorian state indeed would rather favour the conduct of more prudent and disciplined interstate relations, sometimes to the extent of opting for less interventionist approaches to preserve the army's exclusive essence and internal functioning from both domestic and external or transnational threats.
This is probably where Myanmar is heading. There is great fear among Myanmar policy circles of the dramatic rise of both China and India; and also of a populous neighbouring Bangladesh. There is also anxiety and admiration at the same time of powerful Western countries and old connections with Japan.
Odds are that Myanmar will revert to a more neutral, equidistant and reactive foreign policy in coming years, welcoming the return of the outside world but with some degrees of suspicion.
An active foreign policy also has an evident budget impact, especially if it is of aggressive or militaristic type. Not a direct threat to its neighbours, but not the open last frontier Eldorado either _ a perfect reflection of its military institution.
Renaud Egreteau is Research Assistant Professor with the University of Hong Kong. Larry Jagan is a veteran Myanmar analyst and former BBC News Editor. Both recently co-authored 'Soldiers and Diplomacy in Burma: Understanding the Foreign Relations of the Burmese Praetorian State' (Singapore: NUS Press). A book launch will be held at FCCT Bangkok tomorrow at 7.30pm.