A Ghost Town Votes in Myanmar Election’s Second Phase

In most countries, elections are noisy affairs. Streets fill with campaign posters, queues form outside polling statio Ins, and political debate spills into tea shops and living rooms. In parts of Myanmar, however, the second phase of the country’s elections has unfolded in near silence — so quiet that some polling stations stand in places where almost no civilians remain.

Nowhere captures this contradiction more powerfully than Hpapun, a town once alive with trade and travel, now widely described as a ghost town. As Myanmar’s military-led authorities pressed ahead with the second phase of voting, Hpapun became a haunting symbol of a nation attempting to perform democracy amid war, displacement, and deep political mistrust.

A Town Frozen in Conflict

Hpapun was not always empty. Located in eastern Myanmar, it once served as a local administrative and commercial centre, complete with banks, markets, and an airport. Today, most of its buildings are abandoned, damaged, or swallowed by vegetation. Streets that once carried daily life are now quiet, watched over by military checkpoints and warning signs of landmines.

Years of fighting between the military and ethnic armed groups have driven residents away. Families fled to jungles, nearby villages, or across borders in search of safety. By the time election officials prepared for voting, there were few — if any — civilians left to cast a ballot inside the town itself.

Yet the election went ahead.

Voting Without Voters

To make voting technically possible, authorities relocated polling to a military-controlled area outside Hpapun. In theory, eligible voters from surrounding areas could travel there to participate. In reality, the journey involved passing through conflict zones, navigating heavy security, and risking violence — barriers that discouraged most civilians from even trying.

This raises a fundamental question: what does voting mean when the population has been displaced? The act of holding an election in a near-empty town may satisfy procedural requirements, but it does little to reflect the will of the people who once lived there.

Hpapun’s situation is not unique. Across Myanmar, entire communities have been uprooted by civil war, leaving voter rolls outdated and polling stations disconnected from the population they are meant to serve.

Myanmar’s Three-Phase Election Explained

The election has been divided into three phases, officially due to security concerns. The first phase took place in late December 2025, the second in mid-January 2026, and the final phase is scheduled for later this month.

Authorities argue this staggered approach allows voting to occur wherever conditions permit. However, elections have been cancelled in dozens of townships deemed too unstable. In effect, millions of people living in contested or resistance-held areas are excluded from the process entirely.

Even in areas where voting is allowed, turnout has reportedly been low. Fear, displacement, lack of trust, and logistical obstacles all contribute to widespread voter apathy or inability to participate.

The Shadow of the 2021 Coup

To understand why these elections are so controversial, one must return to February 2021, when Myanmar’s military seized power from the elected civilian government. The coup ended a decade-long experiment with partial democracy and plunged the country into nationwide resistance.

Since then, Myanmar has been locked in a brutal civil war. Armed resistance groups, including pro-democracy forces and ethnic militias, now control or contest large areas of the country. Air strikes, village burnings, and mass arrests have become part of daily life in conflict zones.

Against this backdrop, many citizens view the current election not as a step toward democracy, but as an attempt by the military to legitimize its rule.

Where Is the Opposition?

One of the most striking features of this election is who is not participating.

The National League for Democracy (NLD), which won landslide victories in previous elections, has been dissolved under new electoral rules. Its leaders remain imprisoned, in hiding, or barred from politics. Several other opposition parties have boycotted the vote, arguing that free and fair elections are impossible under military rule.

As a result, the political field is dominated by parties aligned with or acceptable to the military, particularly the Union Solidarity and Development Party (USDP). With the army also guaranteed a quarter of parliamentary seats under the constitution, the outcome appears largely predetermined.

For critics, this reinforces the idea that the election is a formality rather than a genuine contest.

Fear, Fatigue, and Silence

Beyond politics, ordinary people face more immediate concerns. Many are simply trying to survive. Displaced families worry about food, shelter, and safety — not voting schedules. In some areas, residents fear retaliation if they participate or refuse to participate in the election.

Others express a quieter form of resistance: indifference. Years of broken promises, violence, and repression have left many feeling that voting will not change their reality. In towns like Hpapun, where life itself has vanished, political participation becomes almost meaningless.

What the Ghost Town Represents

Hpapun is more than just an abandoned town with a ballot box. It represents the gap between political process and lived reality in Myanmar today.

On paper, an election is happening. In practice, much of the population is displaced, silenced, or excluded. The image of voting in a ghost town exposes the contradictions of trying to project normalcy in a country still at war with itself.

It also highlights a deeper truth: democracy cannot exist without people — not just ballots, polling stations, or official announcements.

Looking Ahead

As Myanmar approaches the final phase of this election, the central question remains unanswered: will these votes bring stability, or merely reinforce military control? For many inside the country, hope for meaningful political change lies not in this election, but in an end to violence and a genuine dialogue about the nation’s future.

Until then, places like Hpapun will stand as haunting reminders — where democracy is staged, but the people are gone.