In February 2021, a coup by Myanmar’s military triggered nationwide protests. Conflict followed, with hundreds of civilian armed groups forming. Many fought the military alongside ethnic armies, while a National Unity Government was formed in exile by members of the deposed civilian government and ethnic minority leaders. Thinzar Shunlei Yi, a Burmese pro-democracy activist and TV presenter, helped to organise the early protests. She now lives in exile in Thailand, where she coordinates a campaign to encourage soldiers to defect from the military.
It’s been nearly four years since the coup, but this is only the latest development in the civil war.
Conflict in Myanmar has deep roots, dating back to independence [from Britain in 1948], with ongoing political tensions over self-determination for ethnic minority groups. [The military and political elite has historically been drawn from the Bamar, the majority ethnicity.] But the 2021 military coup greatly worsened the crisis.
Since then, the military has lost ground to an alliance of ethnic and civilian armed groups, many of the latter allied to the exiled National Unity Government. What is the situation today?
Today [September 2024], revolutionary groups have control of 78 of Myanmar’s 330 townships, mainly in the regions bordering India, China and Thailand. These groups have taken charge of border trade and administration in their territories. As the military loses control on the ground, it has increasingly turned to using fighter jets to maintain power. Millions have been displaced internally. Despite the immense suffering, international intervention remains largely ineffective.
You lived in Myanmar before crossing into Thailand in 2022. What caused you to leave?
I grew up in military compounds, and when I became a teenager, I got involved in community organising – mostly education and blood donation efforts. This drew me into politics, particularly because I was teaching orphaned children from conflict-affected areas. As Myanmar began liberalising in 2012, I organised youth forums and took part in protests for peace, some of which resulted in colleagues being arrested. This awakened my curiosity in the underlying factors causing repression. When the Rohingya genocide began in 2017, I organised the first public forum for young people to discuss the issue, and I’ve since been speaking out for the Rohingya and other ethnic minorities.
In 2018, I was charged for leading a protest in Yangon against the military’s attacks on Rohingya and faced a three-year legal battle. This made me realise that the system instituted by the 2008 constitution would not bring democracy to Myanmar. Even minor changes were impossible. So when elections happened in 2020, I boycotted them.
On the morning of the February 2021 coup, I immediately began mobilising for the nationwide Civil Disobedience Movement. As a result, I was targeted by the junta and listed on national television. That’s when I relocated to a town on the Thai side of the border.
You’re the daughter of a military officer. What sort of psyche does the military cultivate in soldiers?
Military families are essentially held hostage within compounds and many soldiers feel isolated, lost and confused. They’re indoctrinated and they adopt ideologies of bigotry and of ultra-nationalism masquerading as patriotism, and feel a superiority over civilians. They perceive [ethnic and religious] diversity as a threat that cannot be managed, and view western influences as intrusions on national sovereignty.
They believe in a need for unity that is tightly regulated. Consequently, they see civilians as inferior, lacking the emotional stability and capability to govern effectively.
Yet you have been able to work with defectors to convince their colleagues to leave the military.
Reflecting on my own journey from being a military child to a human rights activist, I realised that change is possible, regardless of background. This belief was reinforced after the coup when many military and police personnel defected, leading to today’s “Defection and Defiance” movement.
We believe that true reform of the military institution must come from within, driven by defectors who play a crucial role in changing dynamics on the ground, beyond simply joining armed opposition groups. They share their experiences of military life and human rights abuses, and also provide intelligence, support and resources to resistance groups.
Some 12,000 military and police personnel have defected, but why do hundreds of thousands remain, risking their lives and earning a pittance?
The military instils a strong sense of loyalty and camaraderie. They also use intimidation tactics to deter defection, reinforcing a culture of silence and compliance. There may be repercussions for soldiers’ families or themselves if they attempt to leave. Finally, many soldiers lack viable alternatives for employment outside the military.
How has Myanmar society changed since the coup?
I’ve definitely noticed a shift in attitudes. Younger women especially are taking on leadership roles in protests and resistance movements, challenging traditional gender norms. A great example of this is the “Htamein [Sarong] Strikes” in 2021, where women waved sarongs as flags to show resistance against military rule.
On the Rohingya, there is growing acknowledgment of their rights – for instance, in the appointment of Rohingya to positions in the National Unity Government – but the durability of this solidarity remains uncertain. Deep-seated prejudices and historical narratives tend to resurface during intense political moments.
Resistance groups have committed violations of their own: abuse of captives, forcible conscription, even killings of people only loosely connected with the junta. How should this be addressed?
In every community, we recognise that some individuals may act unjustly. When people resort to armed methods for self-defence, it’s important to acknowledge that this can lead to further crimes, compounding the grave human rights violations and war crimes committed by the junta. Prioritising an end to the culture of impunity is far more critical than protecting our comrades or concealing their crimes. Ending impunity will set a crucial tone for addressing all crimes Myanmar has suffered since independence.
The military has been in power for more than 60 years, while armed conflict has been a persistent feature of Myanmar society for even longer. How do you think these wars will end?
History has taught us that shaking hands with our own murderers has only perpetuated a vicious cycle of violence and oppression. True progress requires acknowledging their crimes and demanding accountability under a transitional justice framework, rather than engaging in dialogues that have proven ineffective in breaking the cycle of impunity. So we must first confront the reality of their actions and prioritise justice for the victims. At the same time, growing dissent within the military and the surrender of battalions across the nation demonstrate that humanity can be restored through the collective power of the people and soldiers.
By establishing consequences for human rights violations, we can pave the way for genuine reconciliation and a more just society. This approach is how the world’s longest civil war can finally come to an end.
This article is from New Humanist’s winter 2024 issue. Subscribe now.