Since entering Burmese politics in 1988, Aung San Suu Kyi's choices, like everything else in her life, have been severely restricted. And yet, she has had to make some of the most fateful decisions in her country's recent history. Tomorrow she will have to do the same again, as her party, the National League for Democracy (NLD), decides whether to re-register as a political party.

In 1990, she endorsed the NLD's decision to contest an election held by the then ruling regime, even though she herself was under house arrest at the time and barred from running. At first, some in the party opposed her decision, saying that there was no guarantee the result would be honored.

The critics’ point made sense, and proved well-founded after the junta refused to recognize the NLD's landslide victory. But does this mean that Suu Kyi made the wrong call? Would it have been better if the party had boycotted the election?

Kyaw Zwa Moe is managing editor of the Irrawaddy magazine. He can be reached at [email protected].

At other times, however, Suu Kyi has chosen not to participate in the regime's “political process.” In 1993, when she was still under house arrest, the NLD took part in the constitution-drafting National Convention. But in November 1995, soon after her release, the party walked out of the convention in protest at the junta's efforts to maintain a stranglehold over debate.  

There can be little doubt that it was Suu Kyi's input that led to this decision. But was it the right thing to do? At the time, many dissidents and NLD supporters applauded the party's walk-out as a brave and necessary move. In terms of its impact, it effectively derailed the regime's efforts to enshrine a political role for the military for the next eight years. But in the end, the junta produced the document it wanted—the 2008 Constitution, Burma's first charter since 1988.

Would it have been better for the NLD to stick it out and try to push for more democratic provisions? Given the restrictions imposed on delegates to the National Convention—most of whom were handpicked by the generals—it's unlikely that such efforts would have had much success. The only long-term effect of staying in the convention would have been to lend legitimacy to the final product—something it still lacks.

So it seems that the NLD, guided by Suu Kyi, made the right call in 1995. But what about its decision to boycott last year's election, again under Suu Kyi's influence?

This time, there was far more ambivalence than in the past about whether to play along with the regime's plans. No one seriously believed that the election would be free or fair, or that the junta would tolerate any outcome other than the one it had planned in advance. But many argued that it was necessary for the NLD to reenter the political fray after more than a decade of playing cat and mouse with the authorities that had left the party struggling for its survival.

It was only after Suu Kyi (again under house arrest) issued a statement saying that she couldn't  imagine the NLD registering under the junta’s repressive electoral laws that the issue of whether to contest the election was resolved, albeit not to everyone's satisfaction (a small faction of the NLD formed a new party, called the National Democratic Force, and ran in the election).

A little over one year after the election, however, there are still some who say that the NLD should have  contested it, if only to force the regime to show its repressive true colors, or—in a more unlikely scenario—to give it some say in the country's political affairs through its representation in Parliament.

A year ago, some analysts even predicted that the NLD's decision to boycott the election, and in the process forfeit its legal status as a political party, would be the final nail in the coffin of its political relevance. But the events of the past year suggest otherwise. If anything, it has turned out that the regime—now reconstituted as a quasi-civilian government—still desperately craves the legitimacy that only the NLD can give it.

Now, at the latest turning point in this seemingly endless political saga, the NLD must once again decide whether to participate in a process that is still far from ideal—and risk giving the now ex-generals what they want and getting nothing meaningful in return.

There is every indication that this time round, Suu Kyi will steer the party toward participating in upcoming by-elections when she meets with leading members of her party from across the country tomorrow. According to party spokesperson Nyan Win, the NLD will likely register under the recently amended Political Parties Registration Law.

At a press conference held on Nov 14, Suu Kyi told reporters that the amendment of the law, which will now allow her to run for a seat in Parliament after previously excluding her and other “ex-convicts,” was a result of meetings between her and the government.

If the NLD does decide to re-register and run in the by-elections, it will be a remarkable u-turn for a party that has long staunchly opposed any involvement in the government's effort to establish a “disciplined democracy” under military control.

Not surprisingly, some NLD members have expressed opposition to the expected move and have sent petition letters to party leaders urging them to reconsider. And again, as in 1990, the dissenters have good reason for thinking as they do.

The most obvious objection is that only 40 or so seats will be contested in the by-elections, meaning that even if the NLD were to win all of them, it would still be vastly outnumbered in Parliament by the ruling military-backed Union Solidarity and Development Party and military appointees.

Another concern is that, despite the recent thaw between Suu Kyi and the government, on other fronts, little has changed. The authorities are still holding large numbers of political prisoners, and the army is still waging war against ethnic armed groups, forcing thousands of refugees to flee to neighboring countries.

Under these conditions, is this really the right time for the NLD to start cooperating with the government?

As in the past, the options are extremely limited. The party can either re-register or remain officially illegal, as it has been since last year. If it takes the latter course, it may retain its moral authority, but will have to face the prospect of further pressure with little room to maneuver.

Ultimately, the decision will be made based on whether the party believes that there has been a real change in the political climate. This is a difficult judgment call, since it is easy to interpret most of the developments of the past year—the government's overtures to Suu Kyi and the NLD, its release of some political prisoners, its relaxation of controls over the media and relative tolerance of small-scale protests, and even the suspension of the unpopular Myitsone dam project—as token gestures aimed at winning international recognition.

However, there is another, more intangible factor that appears to have had a decisive influence on the party's thinking: Suu Kyi's trust in President Thein Sein's desire for reform.

Only time will tell if this trust is really warranted, but it appears that Suu Kyi, who met with the ex-general and former junta prime minister for the first time on Aug 19, believes that Thein Sein is someone with whom real dialogue is possible.

From the very beginning, Suu Kyi has said that the way forward for Burma is through dialogue. She has consistently advocated non-violent struggle and avoided any course of action that could lead to demonstrators being gunned down in the streets.

Her approach to politics has won many admirers, but also many detractors, who say that by limiting  her options—i.e., ruling out violence or the threat of violence as means of achieving political ends—she has weakened her position and played into the hands of Burma's oppressors.

But as she has proven in the past, Suu Kyi is able to make do with fewer options than most politicians and still survive with her influence intact. This is a remarkable achievement in itself, but now that she seems to have found a dialogue partner she can work with, she may be able to achieve even more.

When asked by The Economist last month whether she sees herself as a president in 2015 (after the next election), she answered, “anything is possible.” Yes, in the unpredictable world of politics, and in the life of this improbable politician, it seems that nothing is impossible.