Episode #335: Hear Me Now
“It was super hard to cope with, and I got very emotional.” These are the words of Mia Kruska, who works in the Asia Division at the Foundation of the Green Party. She speaks about the raw impact of the earthquake that struck amid Myanmar’s overlapping political, economic, and military crises.
Mia has strong personal and emotional ties to Myanmar. Her first trip there was in 2014 when she was just 19; initially a backpacking adventure that turned into a kind of monastic-led pilgrimage, it soon turned into a lifelong commitment. Returning to Germany, she specialized in Myanmar studies in her undergraduate and graduate work, in particular topics related to the Shan. After her academic career, she became an active member—and for a time, the first chair of the board—of the Myanmar Institut, an academic organization based in Germany. There, she helped navigate post-coup research ethics and fostered academic exchanges.
Mia recounts how she first learned about the recent devastating earthquake, which in the early hours mainly featured stories covering the toll in Bangkok. “I remember waking up in Germany on a Friday morning… I checked it, and then I found out, actually, the epicenter is in Myanmar!” After quickly messaging her Burmese friends, the enormity of the tragedy overtook her. She instinctively understood what the human cost would be, knowing the fragility of Myanmar’s infrastructure and absence of meaningful state support. She also began to struggle with feelings of helplessness as the heartbreaking images of total devastation began to surface.
Rather than joining in the compulsive sharing of distressing images on social media, Mia chose, instead, to first reflect deeply on what she had learned from Myanmar’s people as a guide to her own response. One memory stood out for her in particular: her early travels across the country with a group of monks and nuns. She recalled her astonishment at how the Burmese viewed giving, not as a burden or moral duty, but as a source of gratitude. That worldview, in such stark contrast to the Western world’s capitalist individualism, left a lasting impression on her. And that reflection became the heart of her social media posts in the aftermath of the quake: to honor Myanmar not just by mourning, but by giving.
Mia resists the all-too-common framing of Myanmar as mainly a place of tragedy and challenge. In her trips to the country, she saw beauty and hope amid the complexity, especially in how grassroots communities were building local infrastructure, engaging in critical reflection, and pushing for inclusive political representation. “Especially seeing how many democratic forces are standing for a better change… especially in the younger generation who are also reflecting on how they are influenced by different ethnic national thinking.”
Here, Mia critiques West-centric narratives that cast Myanmar essentially as a passive recipient of aid. She says that being an ally is a two-way street, and not only about money. She describes how the Burmese people give in myriad ways, recalling a time when Burmese friends in Germany sensed her anxiety anbout the rise of far-right politics there, and offered her comfort and support. “They said, ‘We are here for you.’” Mia emphasizes that even now, Burmese should not be looked upon as mere victims: they are resourceful, principled, and deeply generous, even in exile, and even in hardship.
Expressing concern about the general lack of interest in Germany about Myanmar, Mia notes how there is a limited understanding about the present crisis—which even includes many of her academic peers. At the same time, she expresses gratitude for being able to continue working on Southeast Asia and Myanmar issues professionally, despite the limited job market and institutional support. She also brings attention to Burmese students now in Germany, whose scholarships are running out. Many fear returning due to persecution or conscription, but also struggle with social isolation and a lack of empathy from German society, as anti-migrant views have risen sharply. Yet even amid this kind of existential vulnerability, Mia emphasizes the strength of this diaspora community. “What I find always very impressive is how fast they can set up funding and donation events! It’s a way they still keep their agency and also help their country.”
Regarding her identity as a Western researcher working on Myanmar issues, Mia is candid about the ethical dilemmas involved. She observes a generational divide in how scholars approach their roles and challenges the classical notion of “objectivity,” describing it as both impossible and impractical. She credits younger scholars with taking questions of privilege and positionality more seriously, and emphasizes the importance of acknowledging one's standpoint while working humbly and collaboratively with local partners—who often provide insights that would otherwise be inaccessible.
This brings back a poignant memory from her time conducting interviews on the Thai-Myanmar border. Some local people challenged her, asking, “Why should we tell you our traumas, just so you can get a degree?!” That awkward but honest exchange prompted Mia to reassess her approach to research. In response, she began supporting community efforts in practical ways, such as helping deliver goods to the border. These gestures helped build trust and demonstrated goodwill, but more importantly, she believes, signaled her willingness to learn from their critique. She acknowledges she still—like everyone—has blind spots, and hopes that others may continue to point them out. “Even if I'm getting old… I think it's really something I want to keep [doing]— just being open.”
Related to the issue of subjective bias and privilege is the prevailing, romanticized portrayal of Burmese Buddhism in the West. For example, having spent time in monasteries with monks and nuns, Mia’s firsthand experiences offer a sharp contrast to Western stereotypes. She laughs while remembering how she saw monks carrying multiple smartphones and how one nun took selfies during meditation. Initially confused, she came to appreciate the pragmatic approach to spirituality. Moments like those shattered her preconceptions and grounded her understanding of Buddhism as something deeply human, messy, and integrated into everyday life. That said, she is critical of gender inequality within the monastic system, describing it as a “male-made concept” that excludes women from full equality. While she continues to draw inspiration from Buddhist values, she ultimately does not identify as Buddhist, citing the disconnect between her feminist values and certain traditional structures.
When asked what message she would share with other potential allies, especially after the earthquake and in light of the military’s obstruction of aid, Mia emphasized both empathy and material support. “We are privileged and we have more financial capacities and resources right now, and I think it’s especially now important to give it to the grassroot organizations… Even ten euros make a little difference.” Urging people not to be paralyzed by complexity, but to engage, reflect, and take meaningful action, she says, “I still have hope.”