
Myanmar Spring Chronicle – January 18 Scene
January 19, 2026
Who will act to ease the suffering the people are enduring?
As the flames of civil war spread ever wider, those who suffer the most are the people who do not possess power, weapons, money, or access to opportunities—in other words, more than 90 percent of the population: ordinary civilians.
Amid the fighting, civilians are killed or injured by gunfire and bombardment, by airstrikes, and while fleeing conflict zones. Displacement brings hunger, exposure to harsh weather, and lack of medical care; the elderly and the sick often die prematurely. Civilians are accused and executed by one armed side or another, arrested and tortured, and forced to flee towns and villages—losing homes, belongings, property, and even food supplies. Millions of people across Myanmar are living with these realities. Alongside the war, the breakdown of administration and the rule of law has led to rape, murder, looting, and even the killing and disappearance of entire families, including children—occurring in cities and villages alike.
While the country as a whole may not yet have reached the level of total national collapse experienced during the Second World War, some towns and villages already have. During Operation 1027 in recent years, when urban battles took place, looting and killings occurred in Lashio and other towns; the same patterns are now being seen again in cities currently facing urban warfare.
In everyday terms, when governance collapses, so-called “opportunists” wait for chances to break in and loot. While armed groups focus on winning militarily, the protection of communities’ safety and property is often not prioritized. In some cases, even members of armed groups themselves are seen taking part in looting and seizure. When administration breaks down, it is not only thieves and bandits who commit crimes—some armed actors do as well.
When people raise concerns about protecting civilians from threats to life, loss of property, and other physical and psychological abuse, some respond with the argument that revolutionary and military victory is more important than anything else, and that such suffering is unavoidable. Others say that while fighting to overthrow military dictatorship, the public simply has to endure. It is also argued that because many fighters are risking and losing their lives on the battlefield, civilians should “understand” these conditions.
Yet in a raging civil war, when we compare armed actors with civilians, unarmed civilians are far more exposed, far more vulnerable, and face much greater difficulty surviving.
Armed groups that control territory can obtain supplies and funds in various ways—selling resource extraction rights, collecting taxes, or other means. By contrast, civilians living in or fleeing from war zones lose their livelihoods. Forced to abandon their homes and lands, they cannot farm or work, soon face food shortages, and are left with no choice but to rely on aid and assistance to survive.
Those who have financial reserves and can live off savings while displaced are extremely rare—perhaps one in a hundred, or even one in ten thousand families.
This raises an unavoidable question: which organizations are actually taking these survival struggles of the people into account? Armed groups? Ethnic political parties? Ethnic armed organizations? Or humanitarian agencies such as those under the United Nations?
The junta calls itself a government, yet it lacks the basic attributes of one and instead uses blockades and cuts to food, medicine, and aid as weapons*—so there is nothing to expect from it. Ethnic and Myanmar armed groups, meanwhile, are consumed by the costs of operations, offensives, and defenses; *none have the capacity to provide broad-based civilian assistance. International humanitarian organizations also face funding limits and access restrictions, preventing them from responding at scale.
Even the mutual aid among ordinary people that existed in normal times has all but vanished as the civil war enters its fourth and fifth years. Conflict zones have expanded, and many war-damaged towns remain unrebuilt because the conflict has not reached a resolution. In Chin State, for example, Thantlang has remained in ruins since 2021—four years on, still a destroyed city.
Some towns that have endured two rounds of urban capture battles have not yet recovered from their losses—for example Htilin, Kawlin, Naungcho, Kawkareik, and Loikaw.
Urban residents may not want urban battles to be launched lightly, but they rarely dare to voice this openly. While they already regard the junta as irredeemably brutal and power-hungry, they hesitate to speak out. This reflection is therefore directed toward the revolutionary forces: they are urged to consider the public’s experiences and perceptions—especially the reality that repeated destruction makes recovery ever harder.
The suffering of the people cannot be an afterthought.
