As occurred after the 1988 pro-democracy uprising, the coup in Myanmar in 2021 sparked a lively, at times even acrimonious, debate among activists, academics and other observers. One particularly controversial issue was the adoption, mainly by urban resistance cells, of a policy of “targeted killings”. Suggestions that the assassination of security force members and suspected junta supporters bore any resemblance to past or present terrorist campaigns in other countries was strongly resisted, partly because the “terrorist” label was routinely used by the junta to discredit the opposition movement.

During the 1970s and 1980s, when international terrorism was capturing global headlines and exercising the minds of politicians and security experts, there were heated arguments over how to describe this kind of political violence. It was more than just a theoretical exercise, as a rigorous definition of terrorism was required, not just for greater clarity in diplomatic exchanges and academic debates, but also to make policies and laws surrounding responses to this particular threat.

Countless definitions were offered, but few were very helpful. Some academic efforts were so long and detailed that they were impractical. Others, including a few that eventually found their way into formal legal instruments, were so broad and ambiguous that they could potentially be applied to almost any form of political protest. In the end, most professionals working in the field accepted that a universally applicable definition was impossible.

One key reason for this was that the term “terrorism”, strictly speaking a name coined to describe a specific set of violent actions, had become so hopelessly politicised that it could not be applied objectively. Also, in the popular mind at least, it was always accompanied by a heavy overlay of moral and emotional considerations. These problems were encapsulated in the maxim that “one man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter” or, put more simply, “terrorism is what the bad guys do”.