Fault Lines of a Nation: Myanmar’s Politicized Humanitarian Crisis
A monk walks past a damaged building in Mandalay, Myanmar, one of the hardest-hit cities from the earthquake. Sai Aung Mainsai Aung Main/AFP/Getty Images (Image from the Guardian)
Mai Kasemsawade ‘26
Caught in the throes of civil war since 2020, Sagaing, a region in Myanmar's Shan State, was shaken even further during the afternoon of March 28 by a devastating 7.7 magnitude earthquake. The impact, equivalent to 300 nuclear bombs, was felt as far away as Bangkok, Thailand—nearly 800 kilometers from the epicenter. Pagodas and cities crumbled, but the battles did not pause.
In the immediate aftermath, the military junta, known as the Tatmadaw, launched airstrikes against rebel-held areas. Despite a ceasefire agreement announced on April 2, the junta carried out 172 air assaults, including 72 in regions already devastated by the earthquake, according to Reuters. Medical aid was severely hampered not only by the destruction, but also by a lack of doctors due to the junta’s crackdown on healthcare workers. International assistance was blocked from delivering support, stripping the region of a vital source of humanitarian relief. Further compounding the crisis, the earthquake came at the time when global humanitarian assistance funding had been severely cut. As Myanmar reels from the wrath of nature, it continues to suffer from human cruelty.
Myanmar’s Political Background
Myanmar saw a fragile blossoming of democracy in the 2010s. Under President Thein Sein, the quasi-civilian government initiated sweeping reforms, including the release of hundreds of political prisoners, easing of media censorship, legalization of labor unions, and relaxation of restrictions on the opposition. But the bloom was short-lived. The country has been embroiled in civil war since the 2021 military coup, during which the Tatmadaw seized power from the democratically elected National League for Democracy (NLD). The roots of this turmoil, however, stretch far deeper, entrenched in Myanmar’s complex ethnic composition and the colonial legacy of divide-and-rule policies under British governance. Since gaining independence in 1948, Myanmar has struggled with two interlinked challenges: persistent military rule and unresolved ethnic conflict.
Military dominance has defined nearly half of Myanmar’s post-independence history. The country held its first democratic election in 1990 after 26 years of military rule. The NLD, led by Aung San Suu Kyi, won a landslide victory. However, the junta refused to acknowledge the results and placed Suu Kyi under house arrest. The military remained in power until the 2010 elections, which were heavily rigged in favor of military-backed parties and excluded Suu Kyi. Even so, democratic momentum proved resilient. In 2015, the NLD again won national elections, this time allowed under the 2008 Constitution that required power-sharing with the military.
Myanmar is home to over 135 officially recognized ethnic groups. Several, such as the Kachin, Karen, Shan, and Chin, have long maintained armed groups fighting for greater autonomy, political representation, and protection from state violence. These ethnic armed organizations (EAOs) have clashed with the central government for decades, especially in the border regions, where state neglect and military offensives have bred deep mistrust. Ceasefires have been signed and broken repeatedly, and many of these groups operate parallel administrations and militias, making them powerful political and military actors in their own right.
Even under democratic governance, human rights abuses tied to ethnic conflicts have persisted. Most infamous was the persecution of the Rohingya, a Muslim minority group of about one million based in Rakhine State. Denied citizenship under the 1982 citizenship law, the Rohingya remain the world’s largest stateless population. In 2017, after attacks by the Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army on police posts, the Tatmadaw launched a brutal crackdown—burning villages, executing civilians, and displacing more than 700,000 people. At least 6,700 were killed in the first month alone. The UN called the campaign “a textbook example of ethnic cleansing.”
As ethnic conflict continued, Myanmar’s democratic transition was once again stifled. The military viewed the NLD’s growing popularity as a threat. In 2020, following another NLD landslide, the Tatmadaw alleged electoral fraud and, in February 2021, staged a coup. Under General Min Aung Hlaing, the junta launched a brutal crackdown, killing over 600 protestors, imprisoning dissenters, and attacking resistant communities. Pro-democracy forces responded by forming the People’s Defense Force (PDF), which allied with various EAOs. Some EAOs sided with the junta, reflecting the fragmented nature of Myanmar’s civil war.
Shan State remains a critical hub of resistance. In October 2023, the Three Brotherhood Alliance, a coalition of three EAOs, launched Operation 1027, capturing more than 108 military outposts in Shan State. The offensive dealt one of the most significant blows to the junta since the coup, cutting off important trade routes with China and signaling the growing coordination between EAOs and pro-democracy forces.
Since then, the conflict has reached a grinding stalemate. Though the junta still holds technological advantages, aided by military support from Russia and China, its forces are weakening. Morale is low, infrastructure is crumbling, and the size of its army has reportedly shrunk by more than half since 2021. International sanctions have exacerbated food shortages and economic strain on the regime’s strongholds.
Seismic Shift
On March 28, Myanmar was struck by a devastating 7.7 magnitude earthquake with the epicenter located just 16 kilometers northwest of Sagaing, near Mandalay, Myanmar’s second-largest city and home to 1.5 million people. A second quake, measuring 6.4, followed just 12 minutes later south of Sagaing. The tremors were felt across the region, including in southern China, Thailand, and Vietnam. In Bangkok, nearly 800 kilometers away, a high-rise building under construction collapsed from the shock, killing 81 with 7 people still missing, as of May 15 when the rescue mission concluded.
In the aftermath, terrified residents slept outdoors as aftershocks continued throughout the month. Satellite images revealed widespread destruction: entire neighborhoods, ancient pagodas, and critical infrastructure such as the Sagaing Bridge collapsed into the Irrawaddy River. Destruction in Mandalay, Myanmar’s second-largest city, is widespread. More than 500 buildings have been completely destroyed, according to analysis of satellite imagery by Microsoft’s AI for Good Lab. As of May 7, the confirmed death toll has surpassed 3,700, with more than 5,000 injured. The actual toll is undoubtedly much higher, as information is underreported and foreign journalists are kept out of the affected areas. Modeling by the American government, using information such as the magnitude of the tremor and the size of the population it affected, suggests the toll could end up exceeding 10,000.
But even as the country reeled from natural disaster, violence did not subside. Within three hours of the initial quake, the military junta launched airstrikes and drone attacks targeting ethnic armed groups in Shan State, killing at least 15 people. The PDF also reported bombings in the Chang-U township in central Sagaing and in regions near the Thai border.
The junta announced a temporary ceasefire in early April and recently extended it to May 31 to support humanitarian relief, but attacks have persisted. By April 24, the military had launched at least 207 assaults, including 140 airstrikes and 24 artillery barrages, according to the UN Human Rights Office. The junta used the opportunity to conduct aerial attacks on vulnerable areas, increasing their efforts from before the tragedy. As Reuters reports, in the six months before April 2, the junta conducted an average of 7.6 attacks using aircraft or drones that killed more than five people daily, including civilians. Between April 2 and April 18, the military carried out an average of 9.7 aircraft or drone attacks every day, and 105 people in total were killed during this period.
Double Down
To make matters worse, the earthquake struck a country already plagued by an acute lack of rescue supplies and a collapsing healthcare system. Rescue efforts were severely hampered by a lack of equipment; some teams were forced to dig for survivors with their bare hands. Myanmar’s medical infrastructure, already in ruins since the 2021 coup, has become a battlefield. The junta have systematically targeted healthcare workers and facilities, blocking the delivery of medicines, bandages, and surgical tools in areas controlled by the opposition. According to Insecurity Insight, soldiers have killed at least 74 healthcare workers, attacked 263 medical facilities, and detained or prosecuted more than 800 healthcare personnel since the coup. The earthquake has exacerbated these effects, with the UN warning of a looming cholera outbreak in regions affected by the earthquake.
International aid, meanwhile, has been both restricted and weaponized. While the junta publicly appealed for humanitarian assistance, claiming to have “opened all ways for foreign aid,” it has simultaneously blocked rescue teams from entering the worst-hit areas, most of which are controlled by resistance forces. These blockages occurred during the critical first 72 hours, when trapped survivors were most likely to be saved. In one case, a convoy of nine Chinese Red Cross trucks was forced to turn back after the military attacked their route toward Mandalay in Shan State.
This pattern of obstructing aid is not new. Similar tactics were used during Cyclone Mocha in 2023 and Typhoon Yagi in 2024. Analysts now suggest the junta is redirecting much of the aid toward the capital, Naypyidaw, which remains under tight military control. In addition to deliberate restrictions, infrastructure damage, such as the collapse of Sagaing’s airport and key bridges, has further delayed the arrival of international help.
A Shaken World
The earthquake also coincided with a significant geopolitical shift: the withdrawal of US humanitarian support. Under the Trump administration, USAID, one of the key first responders in the region, faced sweeping cuts, eliminating 83% of its programs in Myanmar. Although Washington pledged $9 million in emergency aid, the lack of personnel on the ground has cast doubt on how effectively this aid can be delivered, as noted by Fortify Rights CEO Matthew Smith. This vacuum has given space for countries like China and Russia to extend their influence, despite also being suppliers of weapons to the military junta.
More broadly, the crisis in Myanmar reflects a wider global decline in humanitarian support. The UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA) has long faced substantial funding gaps, averaging around $10 billion annually between 2014 and 2019. As global needs have surged, driven by conflict, climate change, and natural disasters, funding has failed to keep pace. In 2023, this gap reached a record $31 billion. Most recently, the US decision to cut $58 million in contributions to OCHA forced the agency to lay off 20% of its staff and scale back operations in 11 countries. The consequences will be severe. OCHA notes that more than 100 million people who were targeted for essential services, including water, sanitation, and hygiene, could now be left without aid.
The earthquake rumble cracks open the precarious situation faced by citizens amid political conflicts that lead to the loss of human lives. It is impossible to predict or prevent natural disasters, but it is possible to cooperate to prepare and respond efficiently, when it is done out of compassion rather than the cruel grip of power.