This Land Is My Land

“There is no other issue in Thailand that has this long of a history of civil society engagement like Myanmar.”

With these words, Mic Chawaratt, a Thai humanitarian worker and civil society advocate, opens an in-depth and urgent discussion about Thailand’s decades-long, complicated, and often contradictory responses to Myanmar’s humanitarian crises. As a veteran in cross-border aid and migrant rights advocacy, he describes how recent developments, including the aftermath of the 2021 Myanmar coup and the surge in displaced persons, have reshaped the humanitarian and political landscape in Thailand.

Mic begins by discussing the historical relationship between Thailand and Myanmar regarding Burmese refugees, which dates back to the 1980s. Thailand, despite never signing the 1951 Refugee Convention, has hosted large numbers of Myanmar nationals—first from ethnic armed conflict zones and later from military crackdowns in urban areas. He characterizes Thailand’s approach as a balancing act between humanitarianism, national security, and political self-interest. For decades, this has resulted in policies that are informal and inconsistent. Refugees are managed in camps without legal recognition, while urban refugees and migrants live in precarity. In fact, Mic says, Thai civil society organizations have been the main driver of long-term humanitarian support for Myanmar people. Thailand’s border-based NGOs, activist networks, and local communities have built what Mic calls a “parallel system” of care and protection, even as government policy oscillates.

The recent coup in Myanmar triggered a renewed sense of urgency because of a large surge of refugees, which only highlights further the delicate balance between official Thai policy and Thai civil society. As for Thailand’s official response, Mic notes it has been spotty. While the military does allow some humanitarian assistance into border zones, much depends on the local commander’s discretion. There is no overarching refugee policy, while new waves of refugees are still being produced by the conflict.

Part of the problem, Mic explains, is that Thailand is careful not to appear opposed to the Myanmar junta. This is reflected in what he refers to as “proxy diplomacy.” On the surface, Thailand may engage ASEAN mechanisms and speak in support of humanitarian corridors; in reality, it maintains relations with the junta and sidelines the National Unity Government (NUG) and ethnic armed organizations. As a result, Thai civil society must operate delicately, navigating both domestic constraints and international expectations. “Thailand is very good at not recognizing refugees, so this is something that we are trying to address by using the term ‘mixed migration,’” he says. “Thailand tries not to take sides, as they don’t want to be seen as supporting the refugees, which could be interpreted as ‘anti-government’ in Myanmar.”

Mic is especially concerned about the long-term implications of Thailand’s informal refugee management. Refugees in camps lack legal status, are denied mobility, and live in limbo. At the same time, those in urban areas are vulnerable to arrest, exploitation, and deportation. “ The result is that displaced people are treated differently depending on their location and whether they can access donor-funded programs.

One notable example is the absence of a national refugee screening mechanism. Thailand announced plans for such a system years ago, but implementation remains stalled. Without it, aid workers cannot reliably advocate for non-refoulement protections or even basic services for newly arrived refugees. The lack of legal frameworks leaves everything subject to discretion. Mic contrasts this with the grassroots agility of civil society. Thai and Myanmar activists have coordinated emergency aid drops, built cross-border medical clinics, and developed informal education programs. During COVID-19, when governments closed borders, it was these networks that kept supply lines open. “It is the civil society that really saves lives on the ground,” he says.

Mic emphasizes that ASEAN has failed to develop a coherent regional response to Myanmar’s crisis. He criticizes the bloc’s reliance on consensus and its inability to confront the junta meaningfully. “ASEAN has lost its credibility when it comes to Myanmar,” he asserts. This vacuum has led civil society actors, particularly in Thailand, to become regional interlocutors by default. However, they are overstretched and underfunded.

And as if the more traditional, refugee-related challenges aren’t enough, a new concern has emerged, in the form of scam centers now proliferating along the Thai-Myanmar border. These criminal networks, often run from Chinese-built special economic zones, are involved in human trafficking, forced labor, and online scams. Many Burmese and other regional nationals are lured by fake job offers and then trapped. Mic is alarmed by how this new crisis intersects with the existing displacement crisis, creating new vulnerabilities for migrants who are already fleeing war and repression.

One of the major dilemmas Mic discusses is donor fatigue. While Myanmar remains in crisis, international attention and funding are dwindling. Mic points out that because the Thai state refuses to officially recognize refugees, many donors are hesitant to invest in long-term programs. Instead, aid comes in short-term emergency packages that don’t build sustainable infrastructure or livelihoods.

Taking a step back, Mic calls for a paradigm shift in how both Thailand and the international community approach displacement. Instead of treating refugee support as a temporary emergency, it should be seen as a long-term structural need. This includes education, livelihoods, healthcare, and pathways to legal status. Otherwise, entire generations will grow up stateless and marginalized.

Mic also reflects on the importance of listening to displaced people directly, and giving them the agency to express their own concerns and aspirations. Too often, he says, policy is crafted from afar, without consulting those most affected. He emphasizes the need for participatory frameworks that center refugee voices and recognize their agency. “It is not just about giving aid—it’s about recognizing rights.”

He also acknowledges the immense psychological toll of this work. Many frontline aid workers are themselves refugees or come from border communities that have lived through cycles of violence and abandonment. Burnout is high. Still, Mic draws strength from the resilience of the people he works with.

Mic ends by emphasizing the need for transnational solidarity. The Myanmar crisis, he says, is not just a domestic issue—it’s a regional test of human rights and democratic values. Thailand’s role as a neighbor, host, and intermediary is crucial. But its policies must be reformed to align with the reality on the ground.

Looking ahead, Mic warns of increasing challenges. Thailand’s current political climate is shifting toward conservatism, with growing militarization and national security rhetoric. He worries this may lead to even harsher crackdowns on migrants and civil society. He urges continued vigilance and advocacy because once the space closes, it’s hard to reopen.

“The story of Myanmar is also the story of Thailand,” he concludes. “We cannot separate them. Our futures are bound together.”