Confronting the Dragon
Coming Soon…
“They are using each other for their own benefit.”
With these words framing a delicate topic, Wai Yan Phyo Naing returns to the podcast for a second conversation—this time offering listeners a deep exploration of Myanmar’s evolving entanglement with China.
In his first appearance, he traced his path from studying international relations in Moscow to working with migrants in Thailand, reflecting on his rare experience as one of the few civilian Burmese students in Russia. He also shared his nuanced response to Myanmar’s 2021 coup, insights into the mindset of young Burmese military officers abroad, and thoughtful reflections on Buddhism, loyalty, and the complex moral choices confronting Myanmar’s religious and political figures.
As a researcher and lecturer trained in international relations and modern history, with academic work spanning from the Cold War to the Belt and Road Initiative, Wai Yan Phyo Naing approaches the topic of Sino-Myanmar relations with the precision of a historian and the realism of a political analyst. His earlier research traced the evolution of these relations from 1988 through the early 2010s, focusing on how changing domestic politics and global alignments shaped the partnership. That background informs his podcast discussion, where he offers an unflinching look at the dynamics between these two unequal but interdependent neighbors.
Wai Yan Phyo Naing emphasizes that Myanmar and China’s relationship is one of pragmatic necessity rather than friendship or ideology. Each side turns to the other when convenient and withdraws when costs rise. For Myanmar, China’s permanent seat on the UN Security Council and its policy of non-interference provide crucial diplomatic cover during periods of Western sanctions or condemnation. For China, Myanmar represents a vital corridor to the Indian Ocean, reducing dependence on the narrow Malacca Strait. Both countries thus operate out of strategic self-interest, continually testing how much advantage they can extract without losing autonomy. “China is only interested in its national interests,” Wai Yan Phyo Naing states firmly. “China is ready to communicate with whoever becomes powerful in Myanmar.” These remarks sum up the cold logic underlying China’s pragmatism, which, for him, Myanmar must recognize without resentment.
From Myanmar’s perspective, Wai Yan Phyo Naing explains that China becomes indispensable whenever international isolation deepens. Governments in Naypyidaw—whether military or civilian—have repeatedly relied on Beijing’s veto power and investment to maintain stability. Yet, this reliance is double-edged: it grants breathing space while fueling nationalist resentment that Myanmar might become a satellite state. Wai Yan Phyo Naing stresses that political survival has always guided Myanmar’s outreach to China, not ideological alignment. Leaders understand that cutting ties with Beijing is impossible, but surrendering too much sovereignty would be equally disastrous. “Myanmar is a sovereign, independent state—not a province of China,” he insists, a declaration that captures his belief that cooperation must not become subservience.
When turning to China’s motivations, Wai Yan Phyo Naing explains that the relationship is rooted in geography. China’s southwestern provinces are landlocked and distant from major ports, and the prospect of blockades in the South China Sea drives Beijing to seek alternate sea access. Myanmar’s western coast, particularly through Kyaukphyu, offers the shortest route to the Bay of Bengal and beyond to the Middle East and Africa. This logic predates the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI)—Chinese planners had explored Ayeyarwady transport routes decades earlier—but BRI formalized the idea of Myanmar as a strategic gateway. “China need to collaborate with Myanmar, because Myanmar owns the strategic position in Southeast Asia,” he explains, adding that Chinese leaders “wanted to create the tunnel from the border area to the Ayeyarwady River and then to the sea.” That early plan, he notes, was rejected by the SPDC leadership, but today “the port project, gas and oil pipeline [are] already made up… they are ready to continue their high-speed railroad from Yunnan.” As he summarizes it succintly, “China wants to expand their trade route by using Myanmar territory.”
The oil and gas pipelines running from Kyaukphyu to Yunnan, Wai Yan Phyo Naing observes, remain the most tangible outcome of this strategy. They provide China with a modest but symbolically important alternative to the Malacca Strait. Yet their success contrasts with the failure of accompanying railway plans, which have repeatedly met public resistance. Wai Yan Phyo Naing recalls that critics feared the railway would effectively slice Myanmar in two, symbolizing subordination rather than partnership. He interprets this controversy not as irrational nationalism but as a reflection of legitimate anxiety over who benefits from such projects and under what terms. For him, Myanmar’s challenge is not whether to build infrastructure but how to negotiate it transparently and equitably.
The discussion of mega-projects like Myitsone Dam, Letpadaung copper mine, and Kyaukphyu deep-sea port becomes a central thread in Wai Yan Phyo Naing’s analysis. He links public backlash against these projects to opaque deals struck between governments and corporations without public consultation or environmental safeguards. Once Myanmar began opening politically in the 2010s, citizens suddenly had channels to voice frustration, and “China” became a convenient symbol for accumulated grievances. In his view, which he acknowledges as controversial to some, anti-Chinese sentiments often masks deeper governance failures. If contracts were transparent and benefits shared locally, opposition would soften regardless of the partner’s nationality.
Wai Yan Phyo Naing also brings an unusually human dimension to the conversation by examining the experience of Burmese citizens of Chinese descent. Many, he notes, occupy an uncomfortable space between two identities—viewed with suspicion by both sides. Long-established communities, especially in Mandalay, have been unfairly conflated with newer waves of traders and migrants linked to post-1990s investments. Wai Yan Phyo Naing warns that this social fracture feeds populist hostility and complicates state policy. Myanmar’s stability, he argues, depends on recognizing its own Chinese-Burmese population as fully part of the national fabric rather than scapegoats for external politics.
On regional conflict, Wai Yan Phyo Naing explains that “China [has been] trying to intervene, trying to set up the peace talk between the Myanmar military and MNDAA, TNLA, and AA.” He notes that Beijing even “opened the observer office in Lashio.” At first, “the military leaders don’t want to see the Chinese involvement,” but later, “they understood that without having China’s intervention, they cannot take back their control for the north and north-eastern part.” He adds that Min Aung Hlaing “even said that we should appreciate the Chinese intervention!” This, Wai Yan Phyo Naing argues, reveals Beijing’s adaptive pragmatism: it is willing to engage with any actor capable of maintaining order along its borders.
When the discussion turns to the border economy, Wai Yan Phyo Naing speaks bluntly about the online scam industry proliferating in northern Myanmar. “It’s like a cancer,” he says, describing how criminal networks, enabled by corruption and lax enforcement, exploit local and Chinese workers alike. The problem, in his view, illustrates how interdependence without governance invites decay, not prosperity.
When discussing diplomacy after the Rakhine crisis in 2017, Wai Yan Phyo Naing points out that China’s defense of Myanmar at the United Nations offered short-term protection but also deepened dependency. As Western relations deteriorated, Beijing filled the vacuum, extending loans, infrastructure commitments, and diplomatic backing. Wai Yan Phyo Naing cautions that while such support may seem convenient, it carries long-term costs. Every favor in international relations is transactional. Myanmar, he says, must measure the hidden price of each diplomatic concession and resist the temptation to equate tactical relief with strategic gain.
He outlines what a pragmatic reset might look like: publish project agreements, enforce impact assessments, share revenue with affected communities, and integrate conflict-sensitive planning in ethnic areas. For Wai Yan Phyo Naing, these are not anti-China measures—they are the foundations of a competent state. Without them, investment becomes another arena for corruption and conflict. The most durable way to protect Myanmar’s independence, he concludes, is through institutional strength rather than isolationist rhetoric.
Throughout the interview, Wai Yan Phyo Naing returns to a consistent prescription: Myanmar must neither romanticize nor demonize China. He urges a two-track approach—engage Beijing where cooperation serves national interests but insist on transparency, environmental safeguards, and legal accountability. Such conditions are not anti-China, he says, but pro-Myanmar. The country needs a state strong enough to say both yes and no on its own terms. “Whoever holds power in Myanmar cannot forget China’s presence,” he cautions. “Please don’t forget we are just beside the China… we shouldn’t see China as a bad guy all the time.”
To illustrate this mindset, Wai Yan Phyo Naing uses a personal metaphor. “I have never seen China as a rival of my country. I always see them as a friend, as a neighbor,” he says, before elaborating further: “Let’s think about this very simply. You paid for a very good house with your 20 years’ savings… but suddenly you notice that your neighbor is not good… are you going to destroy your house, or move another place? It’s very difficult.” The conclusion is practical and disarming, as he reveals the practical reality behind these current challenges: “We cannot simply move our country because we don’t like the China!” The story conveys his realism: proximity is destiny, and coexistence must be managed, not denied.
Wai Yan Phyo Naing closes by addressing both publics. To his fellow citizens, he reminds them that geography is immutable—China will always be Myanmar’s neighbor. The task is to live with that reality intelligently. To Chinese policymakers, he offers a mirror: projects that disregard local consent will eventually fail. Respecting Myanmar’s sovereignty is not charity; it is enlightened self-interest. Between suspicion and submission, there lies a narrow but navigable path—one that demands realism, patience, and an unwavering focus on the national interest. Wai Yan Phyo Naing believes that Myanmar must walk that path clear-eyed, pragmatic, and unafraid.