International Journal of Communication 10(2016) Burmese Media in Transition 183 That same week, Dawei Watch, a regional online newspaper from Tanintharyi in southern Myanmar, published a story on the struggles of local residents against the Italian-Thai company IDT, which was involved in the development of the Dawei deep sea port and a related road across Burma to Thailand. The story described how these villagers, displaced by the clearing for the roadway, believed that the compensation promised by IDT for their land was too low, so several of them refused to accept it. On six separate occasions, they went to the company’s office to discuss the issue. IDT did not respond, so one local resident filed a complaint against the company with the township police. After the publication of this story by Dawei Watch, IDT called for an emergency meeting with local residents and agreed to better compensation (Thu Rein Hlaing, personal communication, July 11, 2013). A year later, in early July 2014, special branch police in Yangon began visiting private media offices, including the The Voice, Myanmar Post, People Era Weekly, The Irrawaddy, Democracy Today, and the now-defunct Unity Weekly. Staff members describe being interrogated about their funding and financial operations. This was not the first time The Irrawaddy had been visited by authorities, but Irrawaddy Burmese editor, Yeni, nevertheless found himself explaining “Media Industries 101” to the officers, such as what an editorial policy is and the role of independent media (personal communication, July 7, 2014). The officers insisted that their invitation to speak with their boss was not in any way meant as a threat. Yet, as Yeni told me, “even if it is not a threat, it is a kind of political pressure, and just kind of a warning to [let us] know they are unhappy” (personal communication, July 7, 2014). A week or so after these visits, in the Yangon offices of Mizzima, the formerly exile media outlet, I marvel at the changes since I had visited the office two years earlier. At that time, its founding editors had just rented the office, a vast expanse of carpet with one small desk and a phone that rang incessantly. Mizzima has been the most eager of the exile media to return and engage with the government and investors, and today its offices sprawl across the entire floor of the condominium. It now produces two websites (Burmese and English language), a daily Burmese language newspaper, an English language business weekly, weekly business and sports programs, and ethnic and women’s programming. It also offers a daily SMS headline news service. It has a newsroom staff of more than 160, with more than 200 in the entire organization (Soe Myint, personal communication, July 10, 2014). As Soe Myint, Mizzima founder and editor-in-chief, talks about the challenges of moving and expanding his business inside the country, he tells me he has just received a telephone call about the verdict in the trial of the four journalists and the chief executive officer of Unity Journal. The five had been arrested January 2014 for criminal trespass and violating the State Secrets Act after reporting allegations that the Burmese military was building a chemical weapons facility. They have just been sentenced to 10 years in prison with hard labor. The next day, Mizzima and other papers run a black front cover. Journalists protest. International press freedom groups decry the decision. As of this writing in mid-2015, the men remain incarcerated, although their sentence has been reduced to seven years with hard labor after an appeal. They plan to appeal again. These developments offer a glimpse of the complex and rapidly shifting media landscape in Myanmar, undergoing a much-lauded transition from military dictatorship—although to what eventual outcome remains to be seen. I offer here a snapshot of the transition in progress and an overview of