Episode #238: The Great Escape
“There's not a word in Burmese language for defection,” explains Helene Maria Kyed, a senior researcher at the Danish Institute for International Studies with a focus on political and legal anthropology. She continues that while there have been accounts of individual Burmese soldiers deserting, there have never been any mass military defections—with the soldiers joining the opposition—until the aftermath of the 2021 coup.
“We've argued in our research all the way from beginning, that the dynamics of the defection movement and how it evolves is very much dependent both on what goes on in resistance movement and what goes on in terms of military strategies,” Kyed says, describing the outline of their focus.
She first speaks about the military’s organizational culture. Kyed notes that it has long been effective at volunteer recruitment in Bamar regions, and in instilling discipline largely “by creating economic patron-client relationships between lower ranks.” She bluntly labels to this policy as being “an indirect exploitation of poor families.” Beyond these financial incentives, many soldiers also “really believe that being in the military was doing the honorable thing… getting into the military was like serving their people.” In other words, they were told that service not only ensured the stability of the country, but also the continuation of the Buddhist Sāsana. So given the financial incentives and propagandized ideology, in the decades before the 2021 coup, it was almost unheard of for Bamar soldiers to quit their unit and join an ethnic army—and she adds that moreover, few ethnic people have been recruited into the army, either.
Echoing the recent words of Thinzar Shunlei Yi, Kyed emphasizes just how insular the nature of the military is, as there is “an expectation of their sons and daughters continuing within the military, continuing within that sort of society that is not just an army, as we see in some other countries, but that is like a culture in itself.” As more defected soldiers and their spouses tell their stories (like Su Thit shared on a recent episode), Kyed notes that the inner workings of the military are coming to light as never before; for example, the systematic violence and exploitation of the lower ranks, and women becoming virtual slaves within the system. “It could be worthwhile to call it a cult, in a way, it's definitely more than just an army! It’s a parallel society in itself, if we're looking at these internal mechanisms.” And pointing out the corruption that is rife in the military, Kyed shares how “lower ranks were dependent, in terms of livelihood and survival, [to maintain] links to their patrons to the higher ranks.” These ties are further strengthened by the policy that battalions should be self-sufficient when out in the field, resulting in the people—along with any natural resources and business opportunities in the region—becoming ripe for exploitation and personal profit. “There’s an expectation that they could create their own economy and their own earnings to serve the system that has also been part of creating this culture of internal abuse,” she explains. Kyed recalls how people were rightly disgusted and shocked by the sickening physical violence inflicted on civilians after the coup, but she notes how defected soldiers later revealed that lower ranks routinely endured similar abuse from seniors—and if they survived, were then taught to heap that on incoming recruits. So after the coup, it was only natural that the same kind of abuse would fall on the civilian population.
For all these reasons, the act of defection involves more than just walking away from a position; it means leaving behind an entire ideology, community, and way of life—in this way, defected soldiers may have more in common with those who find a way to escape the indoctrination of cults. And because entire families are integrated into the military culture, the risks are multiplied by those trying to leave, and often soldiers must decide whether to bring their entire family to safety (assuming they are willing); or to cut ties completely and go out on their own. Kyed relates one story to illustrate the reach of the junta, in which a defector’s sister, who was living in far-away Dubai, was tracked down and harassed by pro-military supporters.
Kyed says that the earliest to defect after the coup were not necessarily front-line soldiers, but those who may have voted for NLD and hoped to see the military reform itself into an institution they could be proud of. “The first defectors articulated a moral disdain for the atrocities and violence against civilians,” she says, adding that they had long been expressing concern about “the fact that it was not a professional army, but one driven by greed and economic and political power interests.” As far as actual numbers go, as of the last tally a year ago, Kyed points to 10,000 police and 4,000 soldiers who had publicly joined the Civil Disobedience Movement, although the actual numbers of defections might be far higher (especially in the aftermath of Operation 1027). But Kyed is cautious not to give too much credence to these numbers. She emphasizes that reliance on numerical data can oversimplify the complex realities at play, potentially obscuring the qualitative nuances of resistance activities and leading to misinterpretations.
The way in which one actually goes about preparing to defect has also changed over time. Initially, defectors relied on individual strategies and were mostly on their own. However, the support structures put in place by democracy activists and the NUG has stimulated a significant increase in defections, particularly during the latter half of 2021 as those structures became more effective and widespread. This support includes logistical and financial assistance, as well as moral encouragement. She explains that the Chin National Front was the first group to actually offer financial rewards to soldiers who defected with their weapons intact, and the NUG followed suit, although she doesn’t believe this has been a major factor in a defector’s decision-making; important questions remain about their future livelihood after leaving the military payroll. And even if financial incentives were an effective way to entice defections, there just isn’t nearly enough money to support every defector. And despite concerted efforts to get foreign countries and organizations to play a role, few have stepped up. “It's very hard to convince international aid agencies that funding should go towards ex-armed members of the military,” she explains.
Kyed points to another, related issue, that “there's only so much pressure you can put on people in Myanmar and in the diaspora. So I think forms of international support within this field would be a hugely important way to support that the situation changes in Myanmar for the better.” To accomplish this, Kyed explains that the present narrative must be changed, as potential donors worry that any defection campaign is basically code for getting soldiers to simply start fighting for the other side. “In Myanmar, defection is principally a non-lethal and non-violent strategy of undermining military atrocities by reducing the number of people who can commit those atrocities, by reducing the number of people who are supportive of this repressive regime committing these atrocities against civilians,” she says, describing how she tries to reframe the narrative to foreign observers.
Kyed also paints a picture of defected soldiers struggling to find their place after leaving the military, with ethnic populations struggling to support them given their own prolonged hardships. “A lot of [defectors] have ended up going to border spaces in Thailand or in India, where they live undocumented lives like a lot of other CDMers,” she says. “But in a lot of respects for defectors, it's been even harder, because there's still been forms of suspicion and not complete trust towards defectors.” These difficulties have impeded the ability to convince yet more soldiers to join the democracy movement. It has also stimulated the debate among activists as to the number of soldiers they should even be trying to welcome to their side, given their own limited resources. And finally, this also provides easy propaganda for the military’s anti-defection campaigns, which warn soldiers that a fate worse than death awaits them should they even think about joining their sworn adversaries.
Sje delves further into the various ways soldiers end up defecting using the example of a military base on the verge of being overrun: the soldiers might decide to de facto defect on the spur of the moment by surrendering and relinquishing their weapons instead of fighting on. And in some cases, Kyed notes that some soldiers actually seek out moments within an actual battle when they can simply give up and offer themselves over to their adversary. “Particularly in the beginning of 2022, you did start to see that that was the only possibility that they had [to escape], was on the battlefield…But that doesn't necessarily mean that [they] join the resistance movement and [fight] back against their own military. We've seen very few examples of that recently,” she says. This is because surrender-as-defection is quite different than for a soldier who intentionally and methodically plans their escape in advance. “[In the former case], they haven't necessarily been through been through that kind of personal soul searching, or moral, political decision of actually switching sides. Because that is a process of transformation.” On the other hand, the military may not make such fine distinctions, as for them it’s a numbers game, and both defection and surrender mean a loss of manpower on the ground.
But where lower-ranking soldiers may be quick to surrender, higher-ranking officers face more obstacles. This includes the harshness of the punishment if caught, as well as the uncertainties surrounding their reception by the other side. The issue of transitional justice, including accountability for crimes against humanity, is particularly pressing for higher-ranking defectors. There are debates within the revolutionary forces and ethnic resistance organizations about how to handle those high-ranking officers who had been involved in ordering atrocities against civilians. This lack of a clear policy creates insecurity among higher ranking officers and complicates their decision-making.
Kyed emphasizes that resolving these questions is essential in order to be able to encourage mass defections of higher-ranking officers, as opposed to just individual surrenders on the battlefield. “People have very different conceptions of what justice is, and in certain contexts, forgiveness and amnesty is preferred. So it's also about healing and reconciliation,” she says. “But the bigger question of trials in the future and who should be put before war crimes courts, whatever these will be, and whatever approach would be, I think it would be better to take a longer time to discuss that, because these are very deep questions.”
Kyed believes it is just as relevant to look at the situation that the soldiers are defecting to as what they are defecting from, (a topic addressed at the time in an earlier episode with Ven). “Historically, we have not seen a pro-democracy movement in Myanmar appropriating defection as a strategy of resistance,” she says. For example, she describes not only the campaigns led by the NUG and various ethnic armies to encourage soldiers to join the other side, but many now being waged by soldiers (and their families) themselves, as well.
The cult-like indoctrination that soldiers go through, which their families are also subject to, creates a kind of information bubble that is challenging for pro-democracy campaigns to penetrate. Or put another way, military personnel and their families essentially live in a parallel universe where just the ability to hear basic facts can be a challenge. “If they could get this kind of information, we would have massive defection movement going on in Myanmar,” she says simply. This has encouraged various defection groups (such as Breaking Brainwashed, a group of former military spouses that Better Burma has funded) to innovate as they seek ways to better shape the messaging for those still in the barracks. Kyed here also makes reference to the important role that the so-called “watermelons” play. A “watermelon” is a soldier or policeman who is “green” on the outside—the color of their uniform—but secretly supports democracy, and so “red”—the color of the NLD—on the inside. “They have played a key role in countering the internal propaganda and sending intel and connecting defectors on the outside with people still inside.”
Kyed paints a broader picture of defections beyond just the current moment of ending the conflict. She believes it is also a critical component to the country’s eventual peace. “Even though there's still a conflict going on, defection is already part of questions of reintegration and questions of disarmament.” In other words, the process of dismantling the current military necessarily connects to the type of armed forces the Burmese people will want going forward, and what role, if any, members of the current military should play in its formation.
Turning her attention to the recent conscription laws, Kyed sees them as an admission that the military is now stretched thin as they struggle to maintain their ability to engage in fighting across the country, adding that their superiority in the air isn’t enough. She affirms what Saw Htee Char shared in a recent episode, that the soldiers’ morale is likely lower than it’s ever been, given how they are under near constant attack and are sometimes now merely trying to survive from one day to the next. And she also echoes the words of Nathan Ruser, who described soldiers being more or less stuck in their fortified bases day after day, dodging drone attacks while bearing the brunt of the people’s deep hatred, who see them as an occupying army. “What we hear from defectors is also that there is a complete disregard from the military leadership of the lives of these lower ranks,” she says, noting that they are seen more as cannon fodder than actual humans deserving of respect. In fact, the bodies of soldiers killed in conflict are not even returned to their families! “You're just not valued as a person, and that's hugely demoralizing,” she says, and feels that the conscription efforts will only lower the morale further. “You fill up the battalions with these poorly trained, disloyal, potentially unwilling young people that you have to fight alongside, and it becomes very dangerous to engage in military warfare with resistance organizations,” she says. In addition, she suspects that the conscription law will result in a big increase in defections, as Burmese youth begin to see their options narrowing steadily.
“Having looked at defections in Myanmar for quite some time now since after the coup, I think it is extremely impressive and courageous, the way that this movement has been moving forward, and also the way that people have welcomed people from the military, in joining the people in this kind of revolutionary space, and despite the divisions and the disagreements, that people have been able to come together around this strategy of defection as part of the revolution,” she says in closing, “Historically and comparatively it is quite unprecedented, and quite impressive how, not only in terms of the material support, but also the way that these different activities online have been able to move this defection forward in Myanmar… We need to keep in mind the historical unprecedentedness not only in the Myanmar context, but worldwide, of the resilience, and impressive strategies and practices of the revolutionary movement in Myanmar.”