Episode #431: Hit ’Em Up
RELEASE DATE: NOVEMBER 14, 2025
“I’m a sniper,” says Maui, the Deputy Commander and Vice Chair of Staff of the Karenni Nationalities Defense Force (KNDF). “Taking another life is not really comfortable… but killing people is also very addictive. As a sniper, if I don’t shoot for a long time, like two months, I feel like I want to go back, and I want to go and kill all these m*****f*****s.”
Maui joins this interview alongside four of his top commanders who have been resisting the Burmese military since their 2021 coup. In heart-wrenching detail, they each describe their decision to take up arms against the regime. It’s not really a free choice, Maui says; the youth have essentially been forced into making this terrible decision against a violent and uncompromising oppressor. “We used a peaceful way, a non-violent way,” he says, describing the early days of protest. “But they start to crack down on us. They started to shoot with real bullets... So we realized that, okay, they are bullying us with the gun. They are not listening to our bare mouth. We should have weapons to talk to them the way they like.”
As a result, Maui describes the stark choice they faced: to fight, or to resign themselves— and their country— to life under tyranny as passive witnesses. The path they chose demanded an immense and perilous commitment: the willingness to shoot, to kill, to defend. Each of the other speakers echoes Maui’s words through their own stories of lives abruptly overturned, as they were thrust from ordinary existence into the brutal reality of war.
Bearing the responsibility of holding a gun, Maui underscores the importance of KNDF organization, training, and unity. “When you hold a gun, you become a powerful man,” he says. “If you cannot control yourself, this is going to create a lot of bad consequences for our society.” At the same time, the urgency and improvised nature of real-world conflict— faced with a cruel and aggressive enemy— leave little opportunity for proper training in advance. Instruction happens when it can, in the brief pauses between battles with the Burmese army. Paradoxically, Maui also explains that his decision to take up arms is rooted in the desire to spare future generations from that same burden. “We want our next generation not to shoot, not to kill each other,” he says. “That’s why we take our arms, that’s why we do it.”
The seductive power inherent in holding a weapon and having the ability to kill can become addictive, Maui admits. He poignantly reminds listeners that when the coup struck, he was an organic farmer, unwilling to harm even insects. “After I finished my university, I was a young activist for environment, peace, and ethnics,” he says. “I decided to start an organic farm. I bought a piece of land. I lived on my farm... I didn’t want to be a businessman or a politician. I didn’t want to be something big. I just wanted to be something small that can contribute to our society in a better way.”
Now a trained sniper, Maui admits that at times he feels a powerful urge to kill an enemy responsible for so many atrocities. He must consciously rebalance and recenter himself to avoid being consumed by that impulse. It is a cruel irony: the military forces young people to choose between becoming killers or submitting to life under an oppressive and violent repression.
The conversation turns to the tactics and strategy of the conflict. Despite the “catch-as-catch-can” nature of its organization and training, the KNDF has proven remarkably effective. In the early days, recruits trained with bamboo sticks because there were no weapons available, and access to arms and logistical support remains a persistent challenge, though the group continues to receive strong backing from local communities. Even so, Maui says their soldiers will fight with whatever they have, noting a 30-to-1 ratio of Burmese soldiers to KNDF fighters killed. Through careful planning and execution, they have even managed to shoot down some of the military’s advanced fighter aircrafts.
The KNDF uses a variety of tactics to confront the military. Sometimes the resistance engages in guerilla warfare in Yangon and other cities, but the KNDF is now more inclined to fight conventional battles with the Burmese military. Maui says that soldiers used to “come to our house, our village, our land, and they try to take it. They're trying to grab our land.” In those earlier days, the Karenni resistance didn’t have many resources, so they would fall back. But he says they learned from their mistakes, and are taking the fight to the army. Recently, they overran a battalion operating on Karenni soil.
Khine Sitthu, the KNDF’s drone operator, chimes in. When he first took on the role, he hoped that as someone who merely operated a controller— far from the soldiers the drone targeted and seeing its effects only on a small video screen— he would be shielded from the reality of killing, less affected than someone pulling a trigger or wielding a knife in direct sight of a victim. After all, his targets are virtually faceless, just blurred images on a monitor. But as he explains, drone operation is seductive in a different way, and requires its own kind of psychological resilience. “I thought being behind a controller would protect me emotionally, but quite the opposite,” he says. “Over time, it takes its toll.” Because the killing is distant and indiscriminate, there’s less sense of responsibility, and killing becomes almost casual. This detachment, he adds, can breed a kind of existential coldness and erode empathy. “We don’t get to see the aftermath,” he notes. “We don’t know who we hit… It feels evil. It feels like turning into something not human.”
Khine Sitthu says the resistance has even managed to shoot down helicopters using drones. The idea grew out of desperation — no weapons, no ammunition — so he started thinking creatively about how to help. Remembering his prewar work filming with drones (during his student years as a documentarian), he wondered whether a drone could be rigged to carry and drop munitions. He pitched the idea to Maui, who was already considering drones for combat, and Khine Sitthu was put in charge. Faced with a disassembled stockpile of agricultural drones, he taught himself to rebuild and reprogram them; using the internet — including AI tools — and a lot of trial and error, he gradually gained control over their navigation and turned them into a small but effective air force.
The Burmese army— which initially mocked the resistance’s use of drones, taunting it for not having jet fighters— has since been rushing to play catch-up and is now employing drones of their own. They have the advantage of more resources, and connections to China and Russia. They also started jamming the resistance’s drone signals. This has forced Khine Sitthu and others to think outside the box yet again, trying to respond to this new challenge from the military. There is a concern because they do not have similar jamming capabilities.
And similar to their more conventional bombing campaigns, the Burmese army’s use of drones is indiscriminate, as opposed to the targeted use by the KNDF. They use their air power to generate terror and cause destruction for its own sake. This bothers Maui, who says, “We are the fighters [holding] a gun! If innocent people die, we’re going to complain. If you really want to fight, fight us, not [the] people!”
The discussion returns to the issue of weapons and ammunition. Maui frankly admits that access to weapons and ammunition is an ongoing challenge. At times they have to retreat because they are low on ammunition, an issue that the Burmese military doesn’t have. He says they do have resources they can sell to get the money needed to buy weapons, often through the black market;he adds that he wished the international community allowed the KNDF to purchase weapons legally, especially as they consider much of the arms to be used in the service of in self-defense. Maui contends that if only they had sufficient weaponry and ammunition, they could fairly easily defeat the Burmese army.
Continuing on the topic of weaponry, the focus turns to the use of landmines. Myanmar has the sad distinction of being the world’s most landmine-contaminated country. While acknowledging that his forces use landmines, Maui says they do so under very strict protocols, especially when it’s in a “public place.” In those cases, they do not plant them and leave, allowing unknowing local residents to step on them and become accidental casualties of the conflict. “We don’t want to plant landmines on our own land,” he adds. “This is going to cause a lot of problems to us later, even [after] the war is finished.” He notes that they then post soldiers near the mines until Burmese forces approach, so they can warn any villagers who may be coming that way about where to walk to avoid triggering the mines.
Maui acknowledges that even so, any landmines they plant now that remain untriggered will only be a problem in the future, one that will be a priority to tackle in a post-war Myanmar. However, he does not accept any comparison between his forces’ and the army’s use of these terrible weapons. He rails against the Burmese army, which plants them indiscriminately, even in public places, and does not care at all about how gets killed or maimed—indeed, this is often the point.
Maui is also quick to stress the losses from those who have already given the biggest sacrifice. “Right now, why we can talk to you in this situation is because of our brothers and sisters who already gave their life,” he says. “Whatever it takes, we must keep going. We’re going to make sure there will be a new democratic society in the future, a place full of love, full of freedom, no discrimination.”
As the interview comes to a close, all the commanders acknowledge just how much they have changed in these years. Khine Sitthu recalls that moment in 2021 when he chose to leave his studies and the nonviolent protests behind in order to join the armed rebellion, saying, “It feels like something is about to change drastically, like I’m about to jump off a cliff without a ladder. I know I can’t go back. I don’t know what’s down there, but I’m sure I will survive.” Continuing on this analogy later in the interview, he remarks, “I [am now] free-falling in the middle, trying to touch ground... Still, I don’t know what’s down there, but I know what to do.”
This leads towards a focus on the future, and the guests are asked what they would most like to see from the international community. Their answer boils down to one thing—support. “If the international community really believes in democracy,” Maui asks, “why don’t you support the freedom fighters, pro-democratic fighters?” He clarifies that they are not looking for outside intervention or “boots on the ground,” but whatever support is necessary for building a democratic nation and looking after the country’s vast humanitarian needs. In the end, though, Maui is realistic. He acknowledges that the KNDF cannot defeat the Burmese army on its own, because of its size and resources; on the other hand, he emphasizes that the military cannot defeat his forces, either. So some negotiation is likely inevitable. But he is clear on one thing: any outcome is predicated on the military not retaining its political status, so that it can no longer disrupt the lives of those innocent civilians. “Let's do work together for a better future and better society, not only for Burma, but also for the whole world,” he says in closing.