Ghosts in the Machine
Coming Soon…
“Myanmar is in the age of digital and technology,” says researcher Myat Su Thwe, “and we resist mainly by using digital tools.” She speaks as a young social scientist trained in human rights, joined by her co-author Kyaw Lwin, a socio-legal scholar specializing in digital policy. Their conversation centers on their joint study, “Digital Governance in Exile,” which examines how the National Unity Government (NUG), operating underground after the 2021 military coup, delivers state functions through technology. Both identify the NUG as a legitimate authority born of elected representatives, yet they analyze it critically through what they call a “socio-technical framework,” asking whether its online ministries truly meet people’s needs in a society fragmented by war.
Myat Su Thwe begins by explaining why digital solutions become essential. After the coup, civil servants joined the Civil Disobedience Movement, offices closed, and travel between regions became dangerous. In this vacuum the NUG attempted to sustain basic services, like health, education, and finance, through the internet. “Governments around the world are transforming into e-governments,” she says, “so we must also do so, but within our capacity.” The researchers therefore focus on three ministries: Education, Health, and Planning, Finance and Investment. These agencies, she notes, represent both humanitarian lifelines and experiments in governance.
Kyaw Lwin expands on the theoretical lens. Their study views every platform through social inclusion, language accessibility, and digital literacy. “We want to be sure all are included and no one is left behind,” he says. Technical design alone cannot guarantee success; systems must integrate Myanmar’s cultural and linguistic diversity while protecting users from surveillance. To explore these dimensions, the authors interviewed CDM civil servants, volunteer engineers, and residents inside and outside the country.
Both recall that Myanmar’s journey toward digital government predates the coup, but the record remains incomplete. Myat Su Thwe traces the real beginning to the COVID-19 lockdowns when ministries first experimented with home-based learning and remote work. Kyaw Lwin situates it deeper in history: the liberalization of telecommunications in 2013 opened the market to Telenor and Ooredoo; the Ministry of Communications drafted ICT master plans; e-government indices briefly improved. Yet these reforms coexisted with the 2004 Electronic Transactions Law and the Telecommunications Act, which the state continues to use to criminalize online speech. He remembers proposing in parliament that these laws be amended to protect expression rather than punish criticism. “We need to reform the law comprehensively,” he insists, “to link legal modernization with digital advancement.” All progress abruptly halted, he adds, when the military seized power and divided the country into conflict zones.
Asked to compare the old bureaucracy with the NUG’s new digital ministries, Myat Su Thwe emphasizes the difference in context: the earlier system functioned in peace but with limited innovation; the current one operates under bombardment. Despite scarce funds, she argues, the exiled administration demonstrates cultural sensitivity, particularly in healthcare. She recounts how the NUG’s Ministry of Health launches Tele-Gemar, a tele-consultation service connecting volunteer doctors abroad with patients in ethnic territories. In Shan State, for example, the ministry partners with local health units that assemble small groups of patients and act as interpreters during online appointments. Through these sessions, she says, “local nurses learn from doctors in the UK or Australia, while those doctors learn what diseases exist on the ground.” When military airstrikes force suspension of gatherings, the consultations move to smaller encrypted channels.
Kyaw Lwin adds quantitative detail: over 320 of Myanmar’s 330 townships now have access to Tele-Gemar or affiliated clinics. Every consultation is free, crucial for citizens “struggling for daily food.” Similar hybrid methods apply in education. With schools bombed, lessons shift to digital platforms, culminating in a Basic Education Completion Assessment that certifies online study. In finance, the Ministry of Planning, Finance and Investment have turned to blockchain. Spring Development Bank and its companion wallet, Aung Pay, enable donations and payrolls outside junta banks. Yet, he admits, challenges persist—intermittent internet, cyber-attacks, and the need to teach basic digital skills.
Security is a recurring anxiety. Kyaw Lwin recounts multiple hacking attempts against NUG servers. Volunteers now monitor systems around the clock, but he recalls one breach caused by negligence: the military circulated a counterfeit online-school admission link identical to the NUG’s form. “Students filled it with their names and phone numbers,” he says, “and the data went straight to the junta!” Since then, an emergency Telegram channel offers real-time advice from volunteer technologists, though it remains informal and risky for administrators. He calls for a formal, systemwide cybersecurity framework.
Myat Su Thwe frames the issue morally. “Digital tools can be weaponized or they can contribute to society,” she warns. The junta uses facial recognition to hunt dissidents, while the resistance uses encryption to save lives. Digital literacy, she argues, must therefore include awareness of dangers—phishing, scams, identity theft—not merely operational skill.
Survey data in their paper show how trust and fear coexist. Around forty-five percent of respondents express moderate trust in NUG platforms, thirty-four percent high trust, and about half of non-users cite security concerns as their main deterrent. Younger users adapt easily; older users struggle. Still, she insists, everyone must learn: “It is very important for people of all ages to use digital tools in a correct and safe way.”
The financial sector illustrates both innovation and fragility. Kyaw Lwin describes two such programs: the Aung Pay wallet, launched in 2022, which allows anonymous QR-based transactions without junta registration; and the Spring Development Bank, established in 2023 on the Polygon blockchain supporting multiple currencies. Fees are minimal and transparency high, yet interoperability between the two systems remains unresolved. He urges stronger customer service and agent networks to maintain public trust. For him, financial inclusion is part of the “financial war strategy” against junta-controlled banks.
Education faces different constraints. Myat Su Thwe outlines a network of NUG-affiliated institutions—Myanmar National Open University, Wa Zin Online University, vocational colleges in filmmaking and law—that together offer seventeen degree programs with group projects and thesis requirements. Their main obstacle is accreditation. Some foreign universities now recognize credit transfers, but broad recognition remains limited. For students offline, the ministry distributes Raspberry Pi devices configured as portable servers. “When powered,” she explains, “they create a local Wi-Fi network linked to the learning platform, so students without internet can still study.” She regards this as one of the most practical humanitarian uses of technology.
Beyond formal ministries, digital governance extends into territories held by ethnic armed organizations. Kyaw Lwin describes Karen and Kachin initiatives that develop local fonts, online mental-health counseling, and AI-driven helplines for displaced youth. In health care, the NUG coordinates patient referrals with ethnic medical units; in education, it recognizes local curricula. “Healthcare and education are the first sectors to connect,” he says, while noting that common databases and data-privacy standards are still missing. Myat Su Thwe provides an economic example: in Karen State, the Interim Executive Committee collaborates with the Spring Development Bank to sell community bonds and land titles, using proceeds for humanitarian projects. Such experiments, she believes, show how digital finance can sustain resistance economies.
Turning to law, Kyaw Lwin traces the rare moments of judicial digitalization before the coup, including online hearings during COVID-19 and the first digital annual reports of the Supreme Court. After 2021, he says, these efforts collapsed. Courts in resistance zones reverted to physical hearings, moving locations to evade airstrikes. “We need at least to store our data digitally,” he insists, urging a roadmap for online case management, digital evidence handling, and user-protection legislation. Without such structure, he warns, justice operates “case by case, not by system.”
Myat Su Thwe applies the same lens to food security, her own field of research. She describes how the military deliberately blocks food routes and burns harvests in Chin, Rakhine, and Karen areas. Even in Yangon and Mandalay, she says, “it is the poorest of the poor who pay the price.” Availability may exist, but affordability and nutrition do not. She proposes that governance technology could help map shortages and coordinate humanitarian logistics, but only if paired with revenue generation and diplomatic engagement. Cross-border data sharing with Thai and Indian border provinces could facilitate relief corridors. “Advocacy should not stop in Bangkok,” she says, “it must reach the provincial mayors along the frontier.”
As the dialogue closes, both guests reflect on legitimacy. Myat Su Thwe argues that legality alone is insufficient: the NUG must prove its legitimacy through competence and leadership. “It is not enough that the CRPH formed it,” she insists. “Its legitimacy comes from performance, from its ability to guide the people!” She urges international observers to judge the government by its service delivery and its political vision for dialogue and reform.
Kyaw Lwin concludes in a tone both academic and elegiac. The NUG’s digital ministries, he says, symbolize trust as much as function. Yet progress is limited by resources; international technical support remains vital. “While others debate artificial intelligence and life beyond Earth,” he says, “we are still fighting yesterday’s war.” For him, building a digital state under bombardment is not only governance—it is survival. Their study therefore stands as both research and testimony: a record of how citizens, cut off from their institutions, reconstruct the functions of a nation through screens, code, and courage.