Photo – AFP
(This English Column is the ISP’s translation of the original Burmese version published on March 02, 2025. Read the original Burmese Column here.)
The term “cele” has only really taken hold in Myanmar over the past decade. Before that, well-known figures in the entertainment world were simply called “stars” or “artists”. The term, short for “celebrity”, meaning a famous person in film, music, or media, spread rapidly after 2010 with the rise of social media. Those with large followings on Facebook and YouTube soon joined the ranks of “cele”, whether or not they belonged to the traditional arts scene.
This celebrity culture has seeped into politics. The power of popular public figures acting as intermediaries between politics and the masses is now a visible feature of Myanmar’s political landscape. The 2012 by-elections and the 2015 general election were milestones not only in political history but also in the overt mobilisation of celebrities. Under the pre-2011 military government, famous artists had appeared in propaganda films and songs. But the enthusiastic campaigning of celebrities on behalf of a political party with no military backing became most striking in the 2012, 2015, and 2020 elections.
Using artists and celebrities to lend momentum to political movements is hardly unique to Myanmar; it is common elsewhere. What appears more distinctive here is the reverse trend: the transformation of politicians themselves into celebrity-style figures. After the elected government took office in 2016, prominent politicians and regional chief ministers were treated as celebrities on social media. “We Love” groups, effectively fan clubs, emerged; supporters posted memes and jokes about them and sought to package them as celebrity icons. This had a cost. On one level, it diluted the core essence and responsibilities of a political figure. For example, a chief minister’s policies and performance might have called for scrutiny and criticism, yet, for devoted supporters, personal affection and popularity came first. As a result, policy-based critiques that should have been debated publicly often struggled to gain traction.
After the 2021 coup, celebrities did not retreat from politics; they stepped closer. Many moved from endorsing parties or causes to actively cultivating their own political brands. In the extraordinary circumstances of the post-coup period, an awkward question arises: those who claim to represent a revolutionary government have not consistently provided clear political guidance or policy leadership. Ordinary people primarily hear motivational speeches about when the revolution might end, rather than structured political roadmaps.
This celebrity culture has seeped into politics. The power of popular public figures acting as intermediaries between politics and the masses is now a visible feature of Myanmar’s political landscape.
Over the past four years, formal discourse from the revolutionary leadership has often been thin, while “revolutionary celes” have occupied ever more space in the conversation. From campaigns to boycotts of military-linked products to calls for supplies and weapons for frontline fighters, certain celebrities have become central mobilisers. In practice, the rallying power of a celebrity’s message frequently penetrates further into the public sphere than the appeals of veteran political leaders.
This, in turn, carries risks. Because of their prominence in fundraising during the revolution, some figures have acquired a status close to that of political spokespersons—or even leaders. Celebrity influence has grown so strong that, a few years ago, a minister from the revolutionary government had to publicly apologize to a prominent celebrity fundraiser.
The point is not that celebrities should be absent from politics. Rather, those who play visible roles in the revolution—from fundraising and advocacy to attending military training graduations—need to remember their responsibility to uphold humane standards when they speak about nation-building and the struggle against dictatorship. Advocating democracy is worthy; verbally attacking people inside the country from the safety of exile sits uneasily with that stance, especially given the sacrifices many inside have made. Political mobilisation should speak to people’s dignity, not threaten it.
Some rhetoric has crossed a worrying line. One resistance celebrity’s remark that, “When the revolution is over, we will make non-CDM people watch the live shows from a pigsty,” is a case in point. Such language strays far from
human-rights principles and is dangerous. Likewise, branding domestic political forces as those aligned with the junta or dismissing the value of their experience simply because they follow a different path risks deepening divisions within the anti-dictatorship camp. Political leadership organisations should set clearer standards and guidance to ensure that mobilisation efforts are grounded in sound judgment and responsible speech. This matters not only for the moral core of the revolution but also for the subsequent reconstruction and development in the post-revolution period.
Whether such guidance exists is uncertain. What is clear is that the resistance leadership continues to lean heavily on the influence of “revolution celes” whenever it comes under criticism. A familiar pattern has emerged: when critiques arise, celebrities rush to defend the leadership on social media. That reflex reveals the extent of the dependence.
Reliance on this kind also makes it harder to regulate or correct celebrities’ political statements. Yet a body that aspires to govern cannot behave like a fan club, chasing popularity and outsourcing its legitimacy to celebrities. It cannot indefinitely rely on celebrities to fight its political battles, nor can it afford to become, in effect, a “celebrity government”.
Myanmar’s politics needs leaders who can withstand scrutiny, not personalities wrapped in fan culture. May politicians be spared the burden, and distortion, of celebrity moulding based on cults of personality. And may humane revolutionary standards prevail over the temptations of applause.
Ohn Nyo is an alumnus of Yangon University.