A Not So Quiet American
Coming Soon…
“It was a really dynamic but also very challenging time to work in Myanmar,” recalls Scott Aronson, a career humanitarian and conflict expert, reflecting on his years in the country from 2015 through the 2021 coup. In this conversation, he explores how his field experience, crisis leadership, and ethical convictions converged amid Myanmar’s unfolding tragedy.
Aronson’s humanitarian career began in the early 2000s, working across southern and eastern Africa with the United Nations and various NGOs supporting refugees and conflict-affected communities. He spent several years in Darfur during the height of the crisis, focusing on civilian protection and gender-based violence, before contributing to reconstruction efforts in northern Uganda following the Lord’s Resistance Army conflict. These early experiences shaped his understanding of how local communities, aid networks, and international systems intersect within fragile and volatile environments.
Aronson later joined the U.S. Agency for International Development, within what became the Bureau for Humanitarian Assistance, where he oversaw both conflict response and disaster operations. He recalls deployments where U.S. military assets were mobilized during major emergencies, including the 2015 Nepal earthquake. In these missions, he emphasizes the importance of civilian oversight to ensure that military logistics aligned with humanitarian principles and the host nation’s sovereignty. This work reinforced his belief that effective emergency response depends on coordination, adaptability, and a deep respect for those most affected.
It was in 2016 that he arrived in Myanmar, at a time when the country was transitioning from military rule to quasi-democracy; his position as USAID’s senior conflict and governance advisor at the U.S. Embassy in Yangon centered on the formal peace process and on helping civil society assume responsibilities long suppressed under dictatorship. Aronson’s task was to strengthen networks among civic groups separated by geography, ethnicity, and religion, and to create “platforms of coordination, communication, and understanding.” These years were dynamic and difficult, and he recalls them as being filled with both promise and tension as Myanmar navigated a fragile democratic opening.
While the U.S. government’s goal was to support the nascent democracy, Aronson’s particular work concentrated on conflict-affected Rakhine, Shan, and Karen States, where long-standing wars had continued even as political reforms advanced. His focus shifted more sharply to Rakhine in 2017 during the military’s campaign against the Rohingya, and he worked closely with civil society organizations from all communities there, while also coordinating with refugee operations across the border in Bangladesh.
The ensuing violence revealed to Aronson how the country’s deep divisions could reemerge at any time, even during the somewhat nationally optimistic period of transition. He describes Myanmar then as a place of extraordinary hope along with unresolved grievances: a society trying to reconcile ethnic and religious differences after decades of oppression. “There was still hope,” he recalls, “there was still an avenue for change. It just might be longer and more challenging than we had anticipated as the international community.” Even amid the genocide, he witnessed acts of extraordinary courage and cooperation among people from different ethnicities, which convinced him that grassroots civic work remained vital.
Aronson explains that U.S. engagement in Myanmar during that period balanced pragmatic strategy with moral conviction. Politically, Washington sought a stable democratic ally in a country wedged between India and China and rich in natural resources. Morally, he adds, many Americans have long felt that supporting democracy abroad reflects their own founding ideals. “Those two things can coexist,” he notes. USAID’s work extended well beyond governance, reaching into health, education, and economic development. Projects funded under its programs tackled tuberculosis and HIV/AIDS, while others helped Myanmar’s coffee farmers bring fair-trade beans to international markets— examples, he notes, of how civic progress and economic opportunity can advance together.
In addition to being pragmatic, Aronson also describes USAID’s approach as hands-on. Field teams ventured into remote regions to identify local leaders, map out who was doing what, and respond to genuine needs— whether that meant improving meeting spaces, training on fiscal management, or preparing for future decentralization. Crucially, civil society partners— not donors— set their own priorities. He acknowledges that Western institutions often try to professionalize grassroots groups into large bureaucratic NGOs, but many Myanmar activists resisted, choosing to stay small, nimble, and community-based. Aronson’s challenge, he recalls, was to uphold accountability and transparency without suffocating local initiative.
The conversation then turns to the morning of February 1, 2021. Aronson had returned to Myanmar only a week earlier, after navigating pandemic restrictions. Quarantined at home, he had been hearing rumors of tension between Commander-in-Chief Min Aung Hlaing and State Counciler Aung San Suu Kyi. Although he expected this to result into some sort of confrontation, he never imagined it would end up in a coup, as both sides benefited in very tangible ways from the democratic façade. However, before dawn, a Rohingya colleague texted him that the coup had begun and Aung San Suu Kyi had been detained.
Aronson immediately contacted colleagues at the embassy, who confirmed the news. Internet and mobile networks shut down nationwide, forcing embassy staff to use radios. He anticipated violence, and within hours, he and others were desperately seeking ways to sustain contact with local partners. When banks closed and donor transfers froze, some civil society organizations that had withdrawn cash beforehand became lifelines. He arranged for those partners to use their own funds for emergency needs with later reimbursement. This ad hoc system allowed activists to coordinate protests, obtain phone cards, and share verified information when nearly all normal social functions had stopped.
Interestingly, Aronson found the most important factor at this time was not the embassy’s networks and activities, but rather the courage of Burmese partners who “banded together” and risked arrest and financial ruin to keep networks functioning. These actors already had years of organizing experience, which made them effective once mobilized. The U.S. mission’s role was largely to support them with whatever mechanisms were possible under the circumstances.
Aronson recalls that the embassy’s small, cooperative, and crisis-tested culture allowed it to respond faster than many larger foreign missions. While decisions in Washington moved slowly and time zones complicated approvals, staff on the ground often had the autonomy to act within broad parameters. Embassy leadership, he notes, made clear— both publicly and privately— that they stood with the Burmese people and the elected government chosen in the 2020 election. Even as officials weighed safety risks for American citizens, many embassy staff, Aronson says, “were willing to let those with fast and flexible mechanisms use them,” and sometimes acted simply because “it was the right thing to do.”
The US Embassy and its partners also did much at that time to protect people under threat by the military takeover. Aronson explains that the U.S. government had prior experience supporting at-risk human rights defenders through both international partners and immigration measures such as humanitarian parole. Although few officials knew those procedures, those who did could act effectively. Meanwhile, Burmese civil society took the lead in establishing safe houses and escape routes. With U.S. funds and guidance but under local initiative, networks created protocols for location rotation, discreet delivery of food, limits on visitors, gender separation for safety, and constant communication via changing SIM cards and phones. “Somebody needed to be available 24 hours a day to respond to people in crisis,” he adds, because a missed call could have dire consequence.
For escape routes, coordination with ethnic armed organizations was essential, since many routes passed through their territories. Drivers risked military checkpoints; fake IDs and small disguises were common. Refugees often walked through jungle terrain for days before reaching safety. Because conditions shifted constantly, routes were reevaluated weekly. Aronson acknowledges the emotional and physical toll: long isolation in hidden safe houses, sleepless nights, fear of betrayal, and the guilt of leaving loved ones behind.
To illustrate the complexity and bravery of the time, he recounts the story of a senior National League for Democracy official who had publicly supported anti-Rohingya narratives… and who was then protected by a Rohingya colleague who found him shelter and personally stayed with him. To evade detection, they forged identification documents and traveled as a fake family through several checkpoints. The official eventually escaped through Karen territory. The episode, Aronson says, showed how “people who historically would be antagonistic toward each other were willing to do so much to save each other in this crisis moment.”
Reflecting on the foreign policy changes implemented by the second Trump administration, particularly that U.S. aid should be directed home rather than sent abroad, Aronson counters that Myanmar assistance budgets are miniscule compared to domestic programs, and that these projects have an outsize impact. Cutting them, he warns, saves no meaningful amount for Americans, but negatively affects many lives as a result, directly as well as indirectly. Citing Myanmar’s vast methamphetamine and opium industries, the scam centers that target global victims, and China’s efforts to control the country’s rare earth resources, he notes there are several reasons why Myanmar’s stability directly affects U.S. interests. Beyond that, he insists that moral responsibility and national identity should compel Americans to stand with those who fight for democracy. “There are very few more clearly diametrically opposed opportunities in the world [than Myanmar] to be on the side of good versus the side of evil,” he says.
Reflecting on why the Myanmar crisis has received so little global attention, Aronson feels that the complexity of the conflict deters audiences who usually prefer simple narratives. Plus, the absence of attacks on distinct Western interests, along with its far-off geographical location, makes it seem remote, unlike wars in Ukraine or the Middle East. In addition, global fatigue from multiple crises has eroded public attention, though he believes that the region’s geopolitical importance will eventually bring Myanmar back onto the agenda.
Aronson also comments on diplomacy’s moral ambiguities. He maintains that governments must often “talk to bad people,” because dialogue can sometimes avert worse outcomes. Yet he acknowledges that Myanmar’s junta has become increasingly unreachable and that continuing official engagement now yields little value; while at the same time it poses risks of unintentionally conferring undeserved legitimacy. Any reduction in diplomatic ties, he argues, should be deliberate and part of a coherent plan, not just a symbolic move.
In discussing the personal toll of his work, he admits that the period after the coup was “life or death” for many of his contacts, and that he felt that responsibility constantly. Working up to twenty hours a day, he forced himself to take a short daily break—sitting outside with coffee and yogurt, without checking his phone— to maintain composure. Even so, after leaving Myanmar he spent months compulsively checking for messages, unable to sleep through the night. His family’s safety, professional support, and awareness of his own reactions helped him endure, but he recognizes that most Burmese colleagues lacked such advantages. He calls the ongoing situation a mental health crisis and praises local organizations now offering psychosocial services in Burmese and ethnic languages.
Aronson concludes that the events of 2021 demonstrate how much individuals matter. Institutions and policies provide frameworks, but decisive action depends on people willing to take risks. He continues to work with Myanmar organizations on education and peacebuilding from outside the country and remains hopeful despite the ongoing conflict and international neglect, adding that the country’s brief democratic opening gave its people firsthand experience of freedom and that knowledge cannot be erased. If unity can be further strengthened among ethnic armed groups, civil society, and political actors, Aronson believes Myanmar will be ready to rebuild. “When that day comes, and it will come,” he says, “there’s going to be so much growth and opportunity in the country.”