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Sydney Morning Herald
15-06-2025
- Politics
- Sydney Morning Herald
Inside the secret hospital for the wounded soldiers of Myanmar's resistance
Before the war, Ko Khant was a chef in Yangon. He made Western-style food: burgers, bread and pasta. Only a teenager then, he knew little of dictators. In his sheltered, small world inside Myanmar's biggest city, he knew even less of the rebel armies on his nation's faraway frontiers. Soon, both would consume him. More than 200 kilometres to the east of Yangon, another young man had worked the rice paddies at a village in the Myanmar borderlands with Thailand. Min Aung, then 21, had no other vocational ambition than this. One day, perhaps, he would be a husband and father. Then, on February 1, 2021, Ko and Min's vastly different worlds collapsed. Myanmar's military, known as the Tatmadaw, rolled through Yangon and the capital of Naypyidaw, blocking streets, shutting down the internet and imprisoning members of the recently re-elected civilian government, including its leader, Aung San Suu Kyi. It was a coup. The generals, unable to accept their proxy party's massive defeat, took power for themselves, ending Myanmar's six-year interval of electoral democracy. And so began a civil war. By its fourth anniversary this year, it had claimed an estimated 50,000 lives, including those of 6000 civilians. In time, these horrific events, overshadowed by atrocities in Gaza and Ukraine, would deposit Ko and Min here, a large but otherwise unremarkable-seeming elevated home at a secret location in Thailand. Behind the ordinary gates, ethnic Karen nurses, physiotherapists and various other volunteers treat about 120 men. Many of the patients are amputees. At least one young man, keen to show off the long scars running across his crown, carried an acquired brain injury. It is a clandestine rehabilitation hospital for those wounded fighting to free Myanmar from the brutal military regime. This masthead was recently given rare access inside the property on the condition that no one was photographed without their permission and that no identifying particulars were published. The secrecy stemmed from the fear that Thai authorities, who had not given permission for the operation and would not want to be seen as picking sides in the war, could move to shut it down. Downstairs on the open-walled ground level, men passed the hours on their phones. Dogs wandered among electric fans and makeshift beds. Power cords and drying clothes hung from the low ceiling above concrete floors. Upstairs, an amateur cook stirred a giant pot of catfish curry. This masthead met Ko and Min separately inside a small treatment room that doubled as an office. A painting of Suu Kyi furnished one of the walls. On another was a sketch of a man bending open prison bars, with words printed in English: 'Nobody can restrain our spirit from injustice chains.' 'I don't regret what happened to me,' said Ko, leaning forward in a plastic chair, the stump of his right wrist propped on the armrest. 'I only regret getting injured so early.' Flee or give in Loading After the coup, rural villagers like Min, with no money to pay off marauding Tatmadaw conscription officers, fled or gave in to the threats. Min chose to flee, soon linking up with the Karen National Liberation Army (KNLA), a powerful and long-established ethnic armed organisation fighting for self-determination – and now against the junta – out of eastern Myanmar. In Yangon and other cities, street protests demanding the new regime step down were met with killings, torture and arrests. Ko, who at first neither believed nor understood what had happened in his country, eventually joined the heaving crowds with an enthusiasm that saw him marked for punishment. He, too, fled deep into the countryside. 'I stayed out there for about three days, but I couldn't hide any more,' he said. 'I said goodbye to the people at home and told them I was going to join the revolution.' Like Min, he joined the KNLA, completing a few months of basic training before being sent to the fluid front lines. Ko and Min were among tens of thousands of ordinary Myanmar civilians – doctors, teachers, chefs and farmers – who took up arms to fight the new military regime. Some joined ethnic armies. Others joined the People's Defence Force, the newly formed armed wing of the ousted government. The KNLA put Ko to work as part of a team collecting unexploded ordnance to be repurposed as landmines. One day, part of a 120-pound mortar that Ko was handling blew up, tearing off his right hand and blinding him in his left eye. 'If the whole bomb exploded, you wouldn't find my body any more,' he said. After recuperating at the secret hospital but no longer able to fight, Ko stayed on as a volunteer, teaching the wounded soldiers how to cook, and supporting them in their darker hours. 'In the future, I plan to start a business to earn money and support this place if possible,' he said. 'I am more comfortable with the knife now [in my left hand], though I cannot work as fast as before.' The resistance has made some stunning gains, but the regime remains entrenched in Myanmar's centre. Using Russian-made warplanes, the weakened Tatmadaw has been able to sustain a brutal and often indiscriminate bombing campaign across rebel-held portions of the country. Last month, an airstrike on a school in central Sagaing region reportedly killed as many as 20 students. Loading Min, who was wheeled into the small treatment room after Ko had returned to his volunteer duties, said he longed to return to the war. But a man needs legs to fight the Tatmadaw. He recounted how his team had stormed a military base held by 50 regime soldiers. At the entrance, Min stepped on a landmine. Later that day, one of his friends stepped on a landmine, too, and was 'cut in half'. Eventually, his comrades took the base. 'All I can do right now is wait for my full recovery and discharge from the hospital,' he said, rubbing one of his still-bandaged stumps. 'After that, I will go back to my battalion and stay with my commander. 'I will follow him and guard him. I will cook for him and become a chef for him and the other soldiers. I cannot go to the front line and fight with them any more. I can only help from the back.' Even if the regime collapsed and peace returned to Myanmar, Min would never again farm the rice paddies of his village. Nor, he lamented, would he start a family.
The Age
15-06-2025
- Politics
- The Age
Inside the secret hospital for the wounded soldiers of Myanmar's resistance
Before the war, Ko Khant was a chef in Yangon. He made Western-style food: burgers, bread and pasta. Only a teenager then, he knew little of dictators. In his sheltered, small world inside Myanmar's biggest city, he knew even less of the rebel armies on his nation's faraway frontiers. Soon, both would consume him. More than 200 kilometres to the east of Yangon, another young man had worked the rice paddies at a village in the Myanmar borderlands with Thailand. Min Aung, then 21, had no other vocational ambition than this. One day, perhaps, he would be a husband and father. Then, on February 1, 2021, Ko and Min's vastly different worlds collapsed. Myanmar's military, known as the Tatmadaw, rolled through Yangon and the capital of Naypyidaw, blocking streets, shutting down the internet and imprisoning members of the recently re-elected civilian government, including its leader, Aung San Suu Kyi. It was a coup. The generals, unable to accept their proxy party's massive defeat, took power for themselves, ending Myanmar's six-year interval of electoral democracy. And so began a civil war. By its fourth anniversary this year, it had claimed an estimated 50,000 lives, including those of 6000 civilians. In time, these horrific events, overshadowed by atrocities in Gaza and Ukraine, would deposit Ko and Min here, a large but otherwise unremarkable-seeming elevated home at a secret location in Thailand. Behind the ordinary gates, ethnic Karen nurses, physiotherapists and various other volunteers treat about 120 men. Many of the patients are amputees. At least one young man, keen to show off the long scars running across his crown, carried an acquired brain injury. It is a clandestine rehabilitation hospital for those wounded fighting to free Myanmar from the brutal military regime. This masthead was recently given rare access inside the property on the condition that no one was photographed without their permission and that no identifying particulars were published. The secrecy stemmed from the fear that Thai authorities, who had not given permission for the operation and would not want to be seen as picking sides in the war, could move to shut it down. Downstairs on the open-walled ground level, men passed the hours on their phones. Dogs wandered among electric fans and makeshift beds. Power cords and drying clothes hung from the low ceiling above concrete floors. Upstairs, an amateur cook stirred a giant pot of catfish curry. This masthead met Ko and Min separately inside a small treatment room that doubled as an office. A painting of Suu Kyi furnished one of the walls. On another was a sketch of a man bending open prison bars, with words printed in English: 'Nobody can restrain our spirit from injustice chains.' 'I don't regret what happened to me,' said Ko, leaning forward in a plastic chair, the stump of his right wrist propped on the armrest. 'I only regret getting injured so early.' Flee or give in Loading After the coup, rural villagers like Min, with no money to pay off marauding Tatmadaw conscription officers, fled or gave in to the threats. Min chose to flee, soon linking up with the Karen National Liberation Army (KNLA), a powerful and long-established ethnic armed organisation fighting for self-determination – and now against the junta – out of eastern Myanmar. In Yangon and other cities, street protests demanding the new regime step down were met with killings, torture and arrests. Ko, who at first neither believed nor understood what had happened in his country, eventually joined the heaving crowds with an enthusiasm that saw him marked for punishment. He, too, fled deep into the countryside. 'I stayed out there for about three days, but I couldn't hide any more,' he said. 'I said goodbye to the people at home and told them I was going to join the revolution.' Like Min, he joined the KNLA, completing a few months of basic training before being sent to the fluid front lines. Ko and Min were among tens of thousands of ordinary Myanmar civilians – doctors, teachers, chefs and farmers – who took up arms to fight the new military regime. Some joined ethnic armies. Others joined the People's Defence Force, the newly formed armed wing of the ousted government. The KNLA put Ko to work as part of a team collecting unexploded ordnance to be repurposed as landmines. One day, part of a 120-pound mortar that Ko was handling blew up, tearing off his right hand and blinding him in his left eye. 'If the whole bomb exploded, you wouldn't find my body any more,' he said. After recuperating at the secret hospital but no longer able to fight, Ko stayed on as a volunteer, teaching the wounded soldiers how to cook, and supporting them in their darker hours. 'In the future, I plan to start a business to earn money and support this place if possible,' he said. 'I am more comfortable with the knife now [in my left hand], though I cannot work as fast as before.' The resistance has made some stunning gains, but the regime remains entrenched in Myanmar's centre. Using Russian-made warplanes, the weakened Tatmadaw has been able to sustain a brutal and often indiscriminate bombing campaign across rebel-held portions of the country. Last month, an airstrike on a school in central Sagaing region reportedly killed as many as 20 students. Loading Min, who was wheeled into the small treatment room after Ko had returned to his volunteer duties, said he longed to return to the war. But a man needs legs to fight the Tatmadaw. He recounted how his team had stormed a military base held by 50 regime soldiers. At the entrance, Min stepped on a landmine. Later that day, one of his friends stepped on a landmine, too, and was 'cut in half'. Eventually, his comrades took the base. 'All I can do right now is wait for my full recovery and discharge from the hospital,' he said, rubbing one of his still-bandaged stumps. 'After that, I will go back to my battalion and stay with my commander. 'I will follow him and guard him. I will cook for him and become a chef for him and the other soldiers. I cannot go to the front line and fight with them any more. I can only help from the back.' Even if the regime collapsed and peace returned to Myanmar, Min would never again farm the rice paddies of his village. Nor, he lamented, would he start a family.
Malay Mail
01-06-2025
- Business
- Malay Mail
Malaysia's bold diplomacy on Myanmar: From chair to catalyst of Asean peace — Phar Kim Beng
JUNE 1 — As Chair of ASEAN 2025, Malaysia has taken a courageous and long-overdue step in addressing the most intractable humanitarian and strategic crisis in the region: the civil war in Myanmar. By inviting multiple conflict parties from Myanmar — including representatives from the National Unity Government (NUG), Ethnic Armed Organisations (EAOs), and potentially even interlocutors from the Tatmadaw — to Kuala Lumpur for informal dialogue, Malaysia is not only testing the limits of ASEAN diplomacy, but reshaping them. This is a move few dared to contemplate, let alone execute. Since the 2021 coup d'état by Senior General Min Aung Hlaing, Myanmar has descended into a vortex of violence, repression, and fragmentation. The country is now a collapsed state in all but name. Over 3.5 million civilians have been displaced. Thousands have been killed, tortured, and imprisoned. Economically, the kyat has collapsed. Politically, the junta's planned elections — absurdly branded as a return to democracy — have no credibility domestically or abroad. Against this grim backdrop, Malaysia's offer of hosting informal consultations in Kuala Lumpur signals a subtle yet substantive shift: it reframes ASEAN's traditionally cautious diplomacy into a more daring, inclusive, and multi-stakeholder engagement strategy. From five-point consensus to 'Kuala Lumpur process'? Since the coup, ASEAN's formal approach has revolved around the Five-Point Consensus (5PC), agreed upon in Jakarta in April 2021. That document — calling for an immediate cessation of violence, inclusive dialogue, humanitarian access, and the appointment of a special envoy — has been flagrantly ignored by the junta. But rather than retreat in despair, Malaysia is innovating within ASEAN's diplomatic space. Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim's announcement at the Shangri-La Dialogue in Singapore on May 31 that Malaysia would convene informal dialogues in KL shows leadership where others have hesitated. Anwar's own past as a prisoner of conscience lends moral weight to his engagement with Myanmar's democratic opposition. Crucially, Malaysia is not excluding anyone. The door is open to all parties — whether armed, exiled, or militarised. This is a notable departure from the regional bloc's earlier focus on only engaging the junta in formal channels, or worse, remaining fixated on the illusion of 'non-interference.' Prime Minister Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim (third from right) poses for a group photo with ASEAN leaders at the 46th ASEAN Summit at the Kuala Lumpur Convention Centre. — Bernama pic The strategic logic of Malaysia's engagement Malaysia's approach is underpinned by three strategic logics. First, stability in Myanmar is inseparable from regional security. Conflict in Myanmar has spilled over into its neighbours. Thailand and India have faced refugee inflows. China has suffered attacks on its business interests in Myanmar's border regions. Bangladesh continues to shoulder the burden of Rohingya refugees, with over 1 million still stranded in Cox's Bazar. Malaysia hosts over 100,000 Rohingya and at least 200,000 Myanmar nationals more broadly. Peace in Myanmar is not a moral concern alone; it is a matter of national and regional interest. Second, Malaysia is filling a moral and diplomatic vacuum left by ASEAN. Despite rotating chairmanships, no ASEAN country has yet succeeded in bridging the chasm between the junta and its opponents. Indonesia made valiant efforts in 2023 but was constrained by consensus politics and its own transition of power. The Philippines, preparing for the 2026 chair, has taken a hardline pro-Western view that risks excluding dialogue. Malaysia, situated in the middle ground, offers a balanced yet firm moral position, emphasising democracy and human rights without provoking total rejection from Naypyidaw. Third, Malaysia is proving that ASEAN centrality does not mean ASEAN conformity. The KL dialogue initiative proves that ASEAN members can lead while still respecting the bloc's core principles. This is a lesson in creative diplomacy. Malaysia is not undermining ASEAN consensus but augmenting it with initiative, vision, and action. The convening power of Kuala Lumpur can help translate ASEAN's 5PC from paper to practice, one informal conversation at a time. A shift in diplomatic philosophy This effort marks an important pivot in Malaysia's diplomatic philosophy under Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim. Unlike previous administrations that saw diplomacy in transactional or ceremonial terms, Anwar's foreign policy is anchored in what can be called principled pragmatism. It respects geopolitical realities — including the need to maintain dialogue with China, India, and the United States — but also champions the moral imperatives of justice, freedom, and peace. This is not without precedent. Malaysia under Tun Hussein Onn supported Cambodia's coalition government-in-exile in the 1980s. Under Tun Abdullah Ahmad Badawi, it helped broker peace between the Moro Islamic Liberation Front and the Philippine government. Under Najib Razak, Malaysia was a signatory to the Framework Agreement on the Bangsamoro in 2012. What we are witnessing today is the continuation — and elevation — of that tradition. Challenges ahead That said, the risks are real. The junta may see Malaysia's initiative as a threat to its legitimacy. Other ASEAN states may resist turning the informal KL talks into an institutional process. Western donors, keen to isolate the junta entirely, may criticise Malaysia for appearing to 'engage all sides.' But these are manageable tensions. Malaysia has already made clear that the process is suggestive, not binding. The goal is not to supplant ASEAN's 5PC, but to supplement it. Indeed, the invitation to include all stakeholders can be seen as a faithful interpretation of the 5PC's call for 'inclusive dialogue.' What is most important is that the voices of the victims — the Rohingya, the displaced, the political prisoners, the ethnic minorities — are finally heard and empowered in a process where they are no longer objects of negotiation, but agents of peace. The way forward Looking ahead, Malaysia should take three further steps to consolidate this bold initiative: Institutionalise the KL dialogues as an annual track 1.5 platform under the auspices of a semi-official regional think tank. Expand participation to include Myanmar civil society, regional faith leaders, and international humanitarian organisations such as the ICRC and Médecins Sans Frontières. 3Propose to ASEAN a rotating 'Friends of Myanmar' caucus, similar to the Friends of the Mekong, that includes ASEAN members, the EU, and countries like Japan and Qatar — who have shown interest in mediation. Malaysia has turned ASEAN chairmanship from a ceremonial stewardship into a platform for real diplomacy. By inviting all parties in Myanmar's crisis for dialogue in Kuala Lumpur, it is showing what leadership looks like in a divided and disoriented region. There are no guarantees. But in diplomacy, boldness often counts more than certainty. If peace in Myanmar is ever to be achieved, it will be because someone dared to act while others remained spectators. Malaysia has just made that move. Let the dialogue in Kuala Lumpur be remembered not as a footnote, but as a foundation. * Phar Kim Beng is a professor of ASEAN Studies, International Islamic University Malaysia. * This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail.
The Star
30-05-2025
- Politics
- The Star
Ex-Thai DPM: Myanmar must end conflict or face humanitarian crisis
PHNOM PENH/NBANGKOK (Bernama): Former Thai Deputy Prime Minister Prof Dr Surakiart Sathirathai said Myanmar military leaders and all resistance groups must end the conflict immediately, failing which could drive the nation into a catastrophic humanitarian crisis. Surakiart, who was also the former Thai foreign minister, said the derailed peace process coupled with the recent earthquake has only punished millions of innocent Myanmar people. At least 3.5 million have been displaced internally due to the armed conflict and the March earthquake killed over 3,800 people. According to the Myanmar Humanitarian Needs and Response Plan, 15.2 million or one in four people are already facing hunger in 2025. The current ceasefire, declared by the junta to facilitate relief efforts post-earthquake, will expire on May 31. "2025 is a crucial year for peace in Myanmar. We have to work together to ensure that the ceasefire and inclusive dialogue can take place before the election. "The fighting on the ground that we have seen in the past years has come to the point that no one can win total control of the territory in Myanmar,' Surakiart, currently the Asian Peace and Reconciliation Council Chairman, told Bernama from Bangkok. The veteran politician served as Thailand's deputy prime minister between 2005 and 2006 and was the foreign minister from 2001 to 2005. He said the fighting shows that the Myanmar people need humanitarian assistance. While the Tatmadaw (armed forces) has announced the election, it will only lead to more division, whether it's free and fair or not, he said. Surakiart said the crucial Five Point Consensus (5PC) adopted by ASEAN leaders in April 2021 has not been fully implemented. He said that through the consensus, it called for the immediate cessation of violence and constructive dialogue among all parties, but neither has happened in the past three years. The deepening crisis continues to be a major geopolitical concern, with Southeast Asian leaders attending the 46th Asean Summit in Kuala Lumpur under Malaysia's 2025 chairmanship earlier this week reiterating their call for Myanmar to recommit to the 5PC as the primary framework for resolving the crisis. Malaysian Foreign Minister Datuk Seri Mohamad Hasan has stressed that compliance with the 5PC must be a prerequisite to holding the election. On May 21, Myanmar's Union Electoral Commission (UEC) stated that the election date has been tentatively set and will be announced soon, following the SAC's announcement that the election would be held in December or January next year. - Bernama TAGS:
Economist
30-05-2025
- Politics
- Economist
China calls the shots in Myanmar's civil war
The next year the AA led the Rakhine, the largely Buddhist local majority, in an uprising against the Tatmadaw. Fearing this to be the first step in the disintegration of Myanmar, the army and the then civilian government, led by Aung San Suu Kyi, sought to crush it. A ceasefire was negotiated in November 2020. After the coup three months later, other ethnic armies across Myanmar rose against the junta, in collaboration with pro-democracy forces. But the AA bided its time. In late 2023, as the Tatmadaw came under pressure elsewhere, the AA broke the ceasefire. The junta, short of men, then did the unthinkable: it began arming Rohingya to fight for it against the AA. This did it little good: within a year the Tatmadaw had lost most of Rakhine state. Not since the years immediately after independence in 1948 has the military suffered such a string of defeats anywhere in Myanmar. You might suppose this would concern China, considering its strong relationship with the Tatmadaw and its investments in the state. But no. China has long also cultivated the AA. It has been relaxed about the AA's rapid progress, and the AA has reassured China that it supports the investments. It has taken care to avoid using heavy weapons near the pipeline; and as it has captured a series of pumping stations, it has allowed oil and gas to flow unimpeded.
