Dispatches from the Edge
Coming Soon…
This is the first installment of a three-part series of interviews Insight Myanmar Podcast conducted with participants of a 2-day seminar titled “Fostering Sustainable Peace and Security: Thailand and ASEAN’s Path towards Border Stability and Democracy,” held on March 22-25 in Bangkok, Thailand, and hosted by the Asean Parliamentarians for Human Rights (APHR). The seminar was framed by the following sentiment, taken from the APHR website: “In a time where the crisis in Myanmar has escalated on multiple fronts, including mass displacement, destructive environmental impacts of militarization, human trafficking orchestrated through scam centers, the inhumane treatment of political prisoners including women and children and the deadly decline in humanitarian assistance—the seminar shed light on the devastating human cost of the crisis.”
First up is Charles Santiago, a Malaysian economist, activist, and former three-term Member of Parliament. Known for his work on trade justice, minority rights, and regional democracy, Santiago now chairs APHR, where he continues to advocate for a people-centered approach to Southeast Asia’s deepening instability.
Santiago begins with a sharp critique into the structural inequality baked into global trade and economic systems. He argues that low wages and rising costs are not anomalies but deliberate byproducts of free market ideologies. This economic setup, he says, undermines democracy, because, in his view, socioeconomically-struggling communities often seek strong leaders, but strong-man leaders often turn into dictators.
Turning to Myanmar, Santiago sees both crisis and opportunity. While acknowledging the country’s many challenges—including bombings, displacement, and a breakdown of services—he identifies hopeful signs: increased unity among opposition forces, bottom-up federalism efforts, and inclusive political thinking, particularly the rise of women’s leadership. “You have now an agreement on how a future Myanmar should be looking like! This is unprecedented.”
Santiago is critical of ASEAN’s inaction regarding Myanmar. He argues that it has been “process driven” rather than “solution driven,” letting five years of crisis unfold without any meaningful intervention. However, he singles out Indonesia’s prior chairpersonship as an outlier, as he notes that it conducted 164 distinct dialogues with disparate groups from around the country, in order to better understand the nature of the conflict from different points of view. But he believes that ASEAN’s policy of a revolving-door leadership is detrimental to progress. “You need one person who can coordinate this throughout the many years.”
Next, Santiago touches on the 2023 APHR International Parliamentary Inquiry on Myanmar, which found that the lack of international support and attention on Myanmar was a key issue to address. Based on that assessment, it recommended that the international community formally recognize and establish diplomatic relations with the National Unity Government (NUG).
Santiago has put forward a pragmatic proposal for ASEAN to help end the Myanmar conflict: demand the release of political prisoners and insist on a ceasefire, during which period local authorities can rebuild and organize. If these steps aren’t met, ASEAN would then downgrade Myanmar’s membership, barring it from all organization activities. He stresses that this approach would align with its own charter principles of “human rights, democracy, rule of law and good governance.”
Deepening regional consequences because of the collapse of Myanmar’s state functions deeply troubles Santiago. This includes the rise of “scam centers,” human trafficking, a rapidly proliferating movement of arms, and health risks that threaten neighboring countries; there is also the burgeoning refugee population on its borders, which increases by about 20,000 people each month. He emphasizes that all this connects directly to ASEAN’s security.
Santiago proposes the establishment of an ASEAN Humanitarian Fund, with contributions from member states and international partners like Japan, Korea, and the EU. This fund would support refugees, education, and health services in border areas. He acknowledges challenges in securing global funding amid shifting priorities—especially in Europe—but insists regional wealth can be mobilized.
In sum, Santiago believes ASEAN faces a pivotal choice. Either it acts decisively to support democracy and stability in Myanmar—or it risks collapse into irrelevance. “This is make or break [for ASEAN]!” he exclaims. “And this looks like it’s more towards break than actually a make.”
Next up is Tisana Choonhavan, a Member of Parliament from central Bangkok’s District Two. During her term, she has prioritized human rights, inequality, and regional instability—especially the Myanmar crisis—in her legislative and advocacy work. As part of the progressive opposition in Thailand, she draws attention to marginalized communities at home and across the border.
Choonhavan first discusses Bangkok’s eviction crisis in low-income areas. Families are being displaced by state-owned land being cleared, and they have nowhere to go. Over 500 homes have been demolished in her district alone, reflecting systemic inequality in Thai urban policy.
After that, she turns her attention to Thai-Myanmar relations. Choonhaven’s views are rooted in her role with APHR, as well as the Foundation for Education and Development, which runs refugee schools in Mae Sot and Ranong. She has also made multiple visits to Thailand’s western border, where tens of thousands of Myanmar refugees reside. These include former politicians, activists, and professionals who fled persecution following the 2021 coup. Without passports or the ability to safely contact the Myanmar embassy, they cannot get legal status in Thailand. Consequently, many face harassment, bribery, and even abuse by Thai authorities.
One of her key policy goals is to tackle this vulnerability at its root. With her party, she supports reforms to Thailand’s police promotion system, hoping to disrupt the incentive structure that encourages corruption and extortion of refugees. “We are trying to reform the police,” she says, “you get the promotion, but not by paying or arresting some political activists.” However, she adds that her party is currently in the opposition and cannot advance its full legislative agenda.
Choonhaven also calls for immediate humanitarian aid—food, medicine, and shelter—and long-term, legal solutions to the refugee crisis. She advocates issuing work permits to refugees through Thailand’s existing pink card system. Allowing refugees to work legally would enable them to support themselves and reduce their reliance on shrinking international aid, and also prevent them from being sent back across the border.
Despite decades of cross-border displacement and the presence of roughly 90,000 long-term displaced persons, Choonhaven notes that the Thai government has not signed the 1951 Refugee Convention, and so these individuals are not recognized as “refugees.” This undermines international resettlement programs and leaves those seeking asylum vulnerable to forced returns—such as the recent deportation of 47 Uyghurs to China, which prompted backlash from the EU and U.S. She insists that Thailand stop denying the existence of the current war in Myanmar, which is the obvious cause for the exodus, or that it continue to deny that these are legitimate refugees.
Choonhaven emphasizes that moral arguments aside, registering refugees is certainly in Thailand’s self-interest. It improves security by tracking populations, reduces crime, and contributes to the economy. Thailand’s aging population adds urgency: “Right now we have one young person against four elders,” she says. “So having a lot of young people from Myanmar is going to help with the economy as well.”
However, public attitudes and political will remains a barrier. Choonhaven acknowledges resentment among working-class Thai communities, especially in slum areas where Thai and Burmese youth live side-by-side, but rarely interact. Language barriers, economic competition, and social isolation fuel conflict. “They just stick with their groups,” she says. “That’s like how the resentment is coming.” She adds that there are good and bad in every community, and that it is important not to paint with a broad brush.
Choonhaven believes ASEAN and the broader international community—especially the U.S., China, and India—must play a more active role in ending Myanmar’s conflict and ensuring stability. “That is what the world has to aim for: peace and security in Myanmar and restoration of democracy.”
Finally, we speak with the soft-spoken and humble Aung Paw Moe—a former student at Yangon University turned political prisoner who now resides in Thailand. His activism began well before the 2021 coup, particularly around the Rohingya issue and the Myanmar military’s abuses, and was part of a small group of students at Yangon University who publicly opposed Aung San Suu Kyi’s defense of the military during the International Court of Justice hearings. This was a risky and unpopular stance at the time, but they acted on their conviction that the Myanmar military won’t hesitate to “kill, rape or murder even their own citizens.”
Following the coup, his continued resistance led to arrest and imprisonment. He describes prison as monotonous and psychologically taxing, but not brutal in the ways often feared. The daily grind demanded strict personal discipline: “Without self-discipline, you cannot survive... You have to structure your day—like read in the morning, exercise in the evening, and so on.” Though he was not physically tortured in prison, he endured violence during interrogation: “They just beat me in the head, but at least they are not using any tools.” Being moved frequently between prison locations added to the difficulty of the experience, disrupting any stability he tried to establish.
Still, he emphasizes the personal growth he experienced during his period of incarceration, the self-discipline he developed, and all he was able to read. These were mostly technical books—mathematics being his first love before political activism overtook his life. “I was more interested in mathematics than in political advising,” he shares, highlighting the personal sacrifice of a generation of students who felt forced to trade education for resistance. This, he says, is one of Myanmar’s greatest losses.
Aung Paw Moe admits that it has been harder to concentrate since his release from prison, due to the constant stress of exile. Yet despite the hardship and lack of clarity about Myanmar’s future, he maintains a resilient optimism rooted not in naiveté, but in moral necessity. He believes this is a transformative period in Myanmar’s history, and however long the upheaval lasts, the Burmese people need to endure it.
When asked about changes in public opinion on the Rohingya issue since the coup, Aung Paw Moe notes that while there was some public rethinking early in the resistance movement about the morality of the earlier anti-Rohingya campaign, he now sees this sentiment unfortunately reverting to earlier patterns of denial and defensiveness, especially with sympathy for Aung San Suu Kyi building resurfacing with her renewed detention. He does express some compassion for her suffering, noting her years under house arrest, but does not absolve her of responsibility.
Even in exile, Aung Paw Moe remains closely connected to the University of Yangon Students’ Union, assisting them with ongoing efforts. His loyalty to this group reflects his larger belief in collective action and shared responsibility. He avoids romanticizing prison or resistance, yet clearly believes his personal sacrifices are part of a broader historical moment that must be faced head-on.
The discussion closes with a sense of sober resolve. While he cannot predict when or how Myanmar’s crisis will end, Aung Paw Moe again stresses that he believes this period is transformative and essential: a painful but clarifying era that will shape the moral and political trajectory of an entire generation.