This article was first published on Central European Institute of Asian Studies (CEIAS).
Ethnic Armed Organizations remain enduring political actors in Myanmar, consistently exploiting moments of central state weakness to advance their autonomy goals.
Key takeaways:
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Ethnic Armed Organizations (EAOs) have played a central role in resisting the junta since the 2021 coup.
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The history of Myanmar’s conflicts demonstrates that ethnic resistance movements have consistently leveraged moments of central weakness and foreign involvement to pursue autonomy.
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Any sustainable settlement to the Myanmar conflict will require the meaningful inclusion of EAOs in the political solution.
Since the 2021 coup, Myanmar has descended into ever-deepening chaos. A patchwork of ethnicities and languages, the country is roughly 68% Bamar, the dominant ethnic group, while officially recognizing 135 ethnic minority groups. Ethnic Armed Organizations (EAOs) —non-state armed groups seeking greater autonomy or self-determination for a particular ethnic group—have been active since Myanmar gained independence in 1948 and have long shaped the country’s political landscape. Their role, however, has become particularly decisive since the coup. By 2024, around 20 EAOs were operating nationwide. While some major groups aligned early with the National Unity Government (NUG), the anti-junta shadow government, others have pursued independent campaigns, capturing substantial territory from junta control.
According to UK scholar David Brenner, EAOs should not be seen merely as part of the problem but as actors that demand serious engagement, as they will remain “a central political force in the foreseeable future, notwithstanding the outcome of the Spring Revolution.” Understanding both their current operations and their historical precedents is, therefore, crucial to grasping Myanmar’s evolving political dynamics.
Too often, Myanmar is depicted narrowly—either as a pawn in the geopolitical rivalry of great powers or as a nation struggling for democracy, personified in the West by Aung San Suu Kyi, a pro-democracy icon who was deposed as state counsellor by the 2021 coup. Yet such portrayals obscure the country’s deeper complexity: Myanmar’s future will be shaped not only by external powers or iconic figures but also by a diverse set of domestic actors, including the EAOs, whose influence remains central.
EAOs as political actors
EAOs play a central role in Myanmar’s politics, with some fighting the state for the duration of what is often described as the world’s longest-running civil war. Among the most prominent groups are the Karen National Union, Restoration Council of Shan State, Kachin Independence Army, Myanmar National Democratic Alliance Army, Ta’ang National Liberation Army, Arakan Army, United Wa State Army, National Democratic Alliance Army, and the Shan State Progress Party. Since the 2021 coup, new organizations have also emerged, including the Bamar People’s Liberation Army, the Karenni Nationalities Defense Force, the Kawthoolei Army, and the Chin National Defense Force.
These groups often present themselves as quasi-state actors. While lacking formal sovereignty, they claim independence and legitimacy through governance functions—providing healthcare and education, displaying flags, holding ceremonies, delivering official speeches, and even initiating development projects.
Crucially, EAOs pursue their own ethnic liberation struggles, independent of both the NUG and the military regime. Some, such as the Three Brotherhood Alliance, initially refrained from aligning with the NUG but later joined. In contrast, the K3C coalition—the Kachin Independence Organization, the Karen National Union, and the Karenni National Progressive Party—worked closely with the NUG, training units of the People’s Defence Force (PDF)—the armed wing of the NUG composed of Myanmar civilians resisting the junta. EAOs like the Karen National Union and Restoration Council of Shan State that signed the Nationwide Ceasefire Agreement in 2015—a ceasefire agreed between the Government of Myanmar and EAOs’ representatives—withdrew and resumed hostilities after the coup. This underscores their autonomy and reminds observers that Myanmar’s struggle extends far beyond the Bamar-led pro-democracy movement.
In 2023, the Three Brotherhood Alliance—the Ta’ang National Liberation Army, the Myanmar National Democratic Alliance Army, and the Arakan Army—launched Operation 1027, one of the most significant offensives since the coup. The Myanmar National Democratic Alliance Army captured key areas in northern Shan State, while the Arakan Army seized much of Rakhine State. Meanwhile, the Karen National Union took control of the border town of Myawaddy, and PDF units advanced as far as Mandalay in September 2024. By then, independent analysts estimated that the junta controlled only 15–21% of Myanmar’s territory, with EAOs and the PDF holding around 45%.
Traditionally semi-autonomous regions have become effectively ungovernable from the perspective of central authority. Lawlessness has grown, marked by the proliferation of Chinese-run scam centers in borderlands and a surge in narcotics production in the Golden Triangle, a mountainous region where Myanmar, Laos, and Thailand meet. This renewed political assertiveness of EAOs reflects longstanding historical patterns of ethnic resistance and state weakness, which predates the current crisis but has been magnified by the collapse of junta control.
The CIA’s covert war
Modern Myanmar’s political fragmentation can be traced back to the failure of the 1947 Panglong Agreement, which promised autonomy to ethnic minorities but excluded key groups. The resulting discontent was a central factor in General Ne Win’s 1962 coup, which entrenched military rule as the supposed solution to Myanmar’s ethnic unrest. Ethnic conflicts were further exacerbated by external interventions during the Cold War. A key episode was the CIA’s covert arming and financing of Kuomintang forces operating in Myanmar’s borderlands between 1950 and 1961. These CIA operations in Myanmar were among its most secretive.
After the Communist victory in China in 1949, while the main Nationalist government fled to Taiwan, Kuomintang remnants retreated into northern Myanmar. They persuaded Washington that all of Southeast Asia would fall to communism unless the Chinese communist leader, Mao Zedong, was directly challenged. In response, the CIA supplied them with food, weapons, and ammunition, hoping they could launch raids back into China and eventually topple the new regime.
These incursions consistently failed, as the CIA gravely misjudged the strength of Mao’s China. Yet the covert campaign had lasting unintended consequences. It militarized Myanmar’s borderlands, empowered local warlords, and entrenched narcotics production in the Golden Triangle, which was transformed it into a global hub for the opium trade.
Ethnic groups and CIA operations
The CIA embedded itself deeply into the region’s ethnic and economic fabric. The northern part of Myanmar, home to countless ethnic minority groups who historically resisted centralized state control, is one example of James C. Scott’s concept of “Zomia,” a vast highland region in Southeast Asia spanning different countries from China to Vietnam.
Against this backdrop, many ethnic leaders readily accepted CIA support for the Kuomintang during the 1950s. Groups such as the Lahu, Yao, and Shan leveraged CIA resources to resist the Burmese central government. With strong identities and long-standing grievances against central rule, these communities saw a clear opportunity in partnering with American operatives. In exchange for weapons and funding, they provided services such as border guides, intelligence, and protection for radio posts. The CIA’s tacit tolerance of the Shan National Army’s opium-for-arms trade enabled the group to consolidate significant territory in Kengtung State. Shan National Army commanders funneled opium profits into US-made automatic weapons, expanding their military reach while supplying intelligence to CIA operatives. While the Shan pursued their own anti-communist and monarchist agendas, the CIA saw them as convenient partners in its broader strategy of containing communism.
The Wa Hills in Shan State became another crucial hub. Wa warlords, already accustomed to autonomous rule, exploited the region’s suitability for poppy cultivation and its strategic location along the Chinese border. CIA radio surveillance posts were established there with local support, while Wa head-hunters provided espionage services in exchange for modern rifles or even gold. The Kuomintang, unable to subdue the Wa militarily, instead adopted a strategy of barter and alliance, exchanging US weapons for opium. These pragmatic arrangements helped transform Wa leaders into formidable warlords, with the foundations of what would later become the Wa State built squarely on the drug trade.
Other ethnic forces also tapped into this network. The Karen National Union received only limited CIA support, due to suspicions of its leftist leanings, while the Restoration Council of Shan State benefited more directly. The Kachin Independence Army, particularly under the leadership of Zau Seng, gained support as well, financing its struggle through both external aid and the narcotics economy. Later groups, such as the Myanmar National Democratic Alliance Army and the National Democratic Alliance Army, would also profit from this drug-fueled regional order.
Even after the Kuomintang’s eventual withdrawal in the 1960s, ethnic groups had absorbed critical lessons. They had challenged central authority, built autonomous armed organizations, and learned to sustain themselves through a fusion of external alliances and illicit economies. This legacy of militarization and narcotics-financed autonomy continues to define Myanmar’s borderlands today.
The case for including EAOs
The CIA’s operations in Myanmar illustrate a broader historical pattern: ethnic groups have consistently seized moments of central weakness to assert autonomy. The CIA merely provided the means—funding, weapons, and logistical support—for ethnic minorities to pursue ambitions they already held.
Today’s EAOs demonstrate similar strategic calculation in their response to the 2021 coup. Their control of an estimated 45% of Myanmar’s territory reflects decades of institutional learning in guerrilla warfare, governance, and political organization. Some allied with the NUG immediately, others joined later, and several withdrew from pre-coup ceasefire agreements to resume hostilities. These choices underscore the agency and autonomy of EAOs in determining their own political trajectories. Myanmar’s conflict, therefore, cannot be reduced to a binary struggle between the junta and the predominantly Burmese pro-democracy movement—it is also shaped by diverse ethnic actors pursuing self-determination.
Recognizing Myanmar’s future requires acknowledging EAOs as enduring political stakeholders. For policymakers and analysts, this means engaging seriously with their political aspirations rather than treating them as obstacles to stability. Any viable settlement will need to include major EAOs at the negotiating table, not just the junta and the NUG. Historical precedent suggests that unless their autonomy claims are addressed, EAOs will continue to outlast central governments that attempt to sideline them.