Insight Myanmar

Episode #452: “We still had a lot of ideals… but we had some illusions, so to speak.” François Nosten has spent decades on the Thai-Myanmar border, where war, disease, and displacement overlap endlessly. He arrived in the 1980s, a young doctor from Toulouse with Médecins Sans Frontières, drawn by a sense of purpose. What he found was devastation: malaria sweeping through camps, killing faster than bullets. “There were more of the student dying of malaria than from the fighting,” he recalls of the post 1988 movement. Nosten met British scientist Nicholas White, and their work helped pioneer artemisinin-based treatments, which transformed malaria care worldwide. “If you test and treat systematically, early, quickly, then the people don't die anymore,” he explains. For a moment, it seemed victory was possible: “One year later, malaria was gone from the Thai side.” But the disease returned, mutating and persisting through poverty and conflict. When Myanmar’s 2021 coup collapsed its health system, millions were displaced. Aid stopped, clinics closed, and outbreaks flared again. “Tuberculosis is still very serious worldwide… more than HIV,” he warns. “If funding is being cut… I think that tuberculosis will explode again.” Nearby, scam compounds now imprison thousands in unsanitary, lawless towns. “They are like towns,” he says, almost as big as Mae Sot itself.” Nosten still reflects on the conviction and purpose that drove his early ambition as a young doctor. “I did my medical school to be able to travel and to do something that I think was useful,” he says. Now, decades later, he continues that same work, even as the border he serves teeters once again on the edge of collapse. “If you have a stable country… you can control malaria,” Nosten says. “But here, everything conspires against stability.”

Episode #451: Marte Nilsen, senior researcher at the Peace Research Institute Oslo, joins the podcast to explore Aung San Suu Kyi’s central role in Myanmar’s political life. Drawing on decades of research across Myanmar and Thailand, she also reflects on Norway’s complex engagement with Myanmar—from early solidarity movements and reform-era optimism to today’s challenges of diplomacy, reversals, and rebuilding. Norway’s involvement began in the wake of the 1988 uprising and Suu Kyi’s 1991 Nobel Prize, when exiles and NGOs forged ties across the Thai border. The devastating Cyclone Nargis in 2008 highlighted the capacity of local civil society, prompting Oslo to expand support in that direction. Then when President Thein Sein launched reforms in 2011 and Suu Kyi contested the 2012 by-elections, Norway began engaging state institutions more directly again. Suu Kyi’s NLD triumphed in 2015 and 2020, though ethnic groups criticized her Bamar-centric focus, and her stance the Rohingya crisis posed a very serious dilemma for Western nations otherwise wanting to support the country’s democratization process. The 2021 coup, of course, ended the reform era. Nilsen stresses that Myanmar’s current junta bears no resemblance to the military of 2010, back when foreign nations were willing to deal with the junta. Today, it is widely seen as a desperate, illegitimate regime that is waging war on its people. She rejects any notion that the 2025 elections could be free or fair. In the end, Nilsen insists that while outside solidarity and support matter, “the changes on the ground, it comes from the Burmese people.”

Episode #450: Over three days, Insight Myanmar led a Digital Storytelling Workshop with academics and activists, where we explored how presence, curiosity, and the simple invitation “tell me more” can open real dialogue in a polarized Myanmar. What they created was tender, courageous, and deeply human — conversations that welcome not only each other, but also the unseen listener they hope to reach. This is the second of three episodes in this series. Sarah, a former international relations student, describes how the coup abruptly ended her studies and forced her from academic ambition into survival mode. Realizing she might never return to university, she fled Myanmar for Thailand, where initial safety gave way to fear once she became undocumented. Repeated police harassment and bribery threats left her anxious and isolated, struggling with unstable finances and the emotional strain of living alone. She relies on counseling to cope, yet continues supporting Myanmar’s revolution however she can. Despite everything, she hopes to someday return home, resume her studies, and urges exiles to show kindness to one another. Alex, an academic advisor with the online Parami University, traces her path into humanitarian and transcultural education through formative experiences in multicultural and miultilingualsettings.  Working with children in India and later in a refugee camp in Athens showed her how education can create trust and stability, even in crisis. She now advises Burmese students in Chiang Mai, many of whom face displacement and legal insecurity, and has also visited Kenya’s Kakuma camp. Her long-term commitment is centered in her students: their determination, cultural pride, and efforts to build community. Elsa, a student from Yangon now living in Thailand after fleeing the coup, reflects on the foods she grew up loving—especially sweet and spicy Burmese dishes and the many regional versions of mohinga she cannot easily find in Thailand. She notes the overlap between Thai and Burmese flavors and imagines creative blends using coconut cream. Her long-held dream is to open a Burmese tea shop that recreates Myanmar’s communal, welcoming atmosphere with simple wooden furniture, shared spaces, and small acts of hospitality. Although she anticipates challenges with Thai regulations and staffing, she remains committed to building a place that shares culture and kindness through food. 

Episode #449: The first episode in a five-part series, these discussions were recorded at the 16th International Burma Studies Conference at Northern Illinois University, where scholars, students, researchers, and practitioners gathered for presentations, forums, roundtables, and cultural exhibitions exploring the theme “Dealing with Legacies in Burma.” Amid political turmoil and humanitarian crisis, this represented a rare space for open dialogue, and one in which Insight Myanmar was invited to record interviews with diverse attendees, produced in collaboration with NIU’s Center for Southeast Asian Studies. We hope that these episodes bring listeners into the atmosphere of the conference and into conversation with those shaping the field today. The first guest, Ko A, is an academic from Rakhine State pursuing a PhD in the United States, and he reflects on Myanmar’s political trajectory and the forces shaping its conflicts. Ko A turned to political science following the 2021 coup, realizing that Myanmar’s crises are structural, rooted in institutions, militarized power, and historical patterns. He argues that early twentieth-century Burman ethnonationalism distorted the country’s political development, and the military’s alliance with Japan in World War II embedded in authoritarian tendencies. He explains that political institutions tend to retain their initial character and reinforce themselves over time. Despite the complexity and conflict, he remains optimistic, trusting that an informed younger generation and honest engagement with historical truths can guide Myanmar toward a better future. Next, Chit Wit Yi Oo discusses her work studying water and air quality, in order to understand how environmental change is affecting public health. She launched a study on groundwater that spanned Yangon to Mandalay and the southern coast, and learned that deep wells in downtown Yangon remain relatively safe, but nearby shallow wells show severe saltwater intrusion, forcing residents to rely on rainwater for drinking while using contaminated sources for daily chores. In Mandalay, meanwhile, heavy-metal contamination from textile-dye factories has polluted wells, but families continue using this water because purified alternatives are unaffordable, with doctors reporting widespread kidney disease consistent with the findings. She also warns that many of Myanmar’s rivers, once safe to drink, are now polluted by mining, though rural families still depend on them out of necessity. Additionally, her research documents dramatic declines in Yangon’s air quality, with PM2.5 levels far above WHO guidelines since 2016 due to rapid urbanization, post-Cyclone Nargis loss of green space, traffic, dry-season burning, and pesticide-laden crop fires. Despite systemic obstacles she faced in her own education, such as not being from an elite or military family, she sees hope in the growing Burmese diaspora of researchers and experts. She ends with a plea: “We need your support. And then please help our people, and then please listen our voices and our people.” Finally we hear from Lugyi No, a PhD student who describes how displacement, violence, and the collapse of schooling shape children’s lives in today’s Myanmar. “It is what it is,” he sharessadly. “You have to learn how you're going to survive out of those adverse situations.” Lugyi No sees many children exhibiting deep trauma— trembling and even fainting at loud sounds— yet also remarkable resilience, supported by community solidarity. Lugyi No experiences survivor guilt being safe in the US even as teachers back home continue facing danger, including deadly attacks on families. Through his graduate work, he studies trauma-informed practices, teacher resilience, and student engagement, sharing what he learns whenever possible. He urges international organizations to provide recognition pathways for displaced learners and insists that “without community support… it is hard to sustain education,” in conflict zones where survival and schooling are inseparable. 

Episode #448: In the second of our three-part series with Steve Smith, a teacher in the Mahasi tradition, he continues reflecting on his half-century exploration into the country’s spirituality, culture, and politics, while also sharing what he learned from prolonged and intimate contact with some of the greatest meditation teachers and civil leaders of the day.  Steve went to Seikhun, Mahasi Sayadaw’s village, and started his practice there. He practiced with local villagers, as well as senior government ministers, future democratic leaders, business magnates, and others with elite social standing.  Between meditation sessions, Steve remembers long conversations that meandered between politics and practice. His fascinating, first-handaccount of the role that meditation practice played in the upper echelons of the democracy movement is one that perhaps has never been examined thoroughly by any past scholar or historian. When Steve traveled or return back home to Hawaii, he often found himself disappointed that Buddhist and mindfulness communities elsewhere weren’t able—or even interested in trying—to integrate meditation with social engagement.  He was convinced that in Myanmar, the Dhamma was a seamless aspect of people’s everyday lives, that “the same generative and ancient teachings of the Buddha [were being] applied in their deepest personal, psychological, emotional, spiritual lives, as well as how it influenced their social, and government and business lives as well...” He learned much from his monastic teachers about how to respond effectively to tyranny, in particular, Sayadaw U Pandita. This great teacher never engaged in acts of overt defiance or explicit advocacy, yet unmistakably signaled his displeasure in subtle ways. To Steve, this was the Burmese Saṅgha in its very best form: a calm nobility in standing up for righteousness, creating a ripple effect that impacted all of lay society. Steve feels tremendous gratitude for the instructions he received so generously as a lay meditator and monk in Burma, the result of painstakingly care in assuring the transmission of the teachings from one generation to the next… and ultimately to foreign seekers. In return, he has given back in different ways over the years, from supporting health and education projects throughout the Sagaing Hills, to fundraising for nuns, to organizing annual acupuncture treatment for villagers. He also lent a hand when his Burmese friends found themselves in the crosshairs of the regime.

Episode #447: Maw Shein Win, a Burmese-American poet, teacher, and literary organizer based in the Bay Area, reflects on her creative path, heritage, and commitment to poetry as witness and connection.  Maw Shein Win turned to poetry while in college. She also immersed herself in the punk and experimental music scene of 1980s Los Angeles. This affected the arc of her career, as collaboration across disciplines— music, performance, and visual art— became central to her practice, and is a hallmark of her work. Her published collections include Invisible Gifts (2018), Storage Unit for the Spirit House (2020), as well as smaller works like Tales of a Lonely Meat Eater and Scorned Bone. Storage Unit for the Spirit House emerged from time spent in storage spaces during a personal transition, merging that imagery with Burmese “spirit houses.” She says a major theme in her work is “containers”— whether memory, the body, or physical spaces— along with impermanence, healing, and family. Deeply connected to Myanmar, she collaborates with Burmese writers to raise awareness and funds, emphasizing poetry’s role as witness. She stresses the importance of keeping the country’s struggles visible, given the decline in international media coverage. “Even if a reader has never been to Myanmar or knows nothing about it, a poem can be an entry point into understanding,”she explains. To emerging poets, she advises “find your communities,” since no single circle can sustain a writer. For Maw Shein Win, poetry bridges cultures and art forms, opening doors for connection, empathy, and new ways of seeing.

Episode #446: This episode marks the beginning of a three-part series created during a three-day Digital Storytelling Workshop hosted by the Insight Myanmar Podcast, with support from ANU and IDRC. Over those days, emerging storytellers came together to practice something both ancient and profoundly human: telling stories. In a world increasingly shaped by artificial intelligence, the workshop served as a reminder that genuine connection — the kind built through care, honesty, and the courage to speak and listen — can never be automated. Guided by Caleb Gattegno’sinsight that “speaking is easy, communication is a miracle,” and grounded in the simple phrase we kept returning to, “tell me more,” this episode invites you to pull up a metaphorical third chair. You’ll hear participants discovering their voices in real time, offering stories that create presence, intimacy, and shared understanding through one of humanity’s oldest rituals: someone speaking, and someone listening. The first discussion features Mora, a social worker from central Myanmar, who contrasts a peaceful childhood with the subtle discrimination he faced because of his family’s pro-democracy leanings. Disillusioned with the university system, he studied at the British Council in Mandalay, inspiring a return to his rural hometown to expand educational access there. After training at a monastic college, he introduced child-centered teaching, built a library, created safe play spaces, and partnered with INGOs on community projects. After the coup, he remained in in the country despite threats to his family to continues humanitarian work for displaced children, believing that helping even one life remains meaningful. Nan Gyi Thoke, a Chinese visual anthropology researcher and filmmaker in Thailand, reflects on her background, her creative path and her research into migrant Myanmar filmmakers working along the Thai–Myanmar border. Her own difficulties abroad—language, culture, legal barriers and limited resources—inspired her to study how Myanmar artists persist and support one anotheramid challenging conditions and restraints. She also co-runs a volunteer Chinese-language platform that shares everyday stories from Southeast Asia to counter stereotypes. Her upbringing in a borderland minority community shapes her commitment to cultural preservation, documentary work and building meaningful connections between Chinese and Burmese communities. Eugene is a young Shan journalist from Taunggyi who creates safety content for Shan communities and translates Burmese news for international readers. Reporting and translation have shown him how conflict, displacement, exploitation, and landmine contamination affect civilians across Shan State, which led him to develop public-education materials on landmines mines and explosive ordnance for Shan communities. He hopes to expand into original reporting, long-form and visual storytelling, and mentoring younger Shan creators. Jeremy describes traveling widely across Myanmar and later throughout Asia. He stresses preparing for weather, food, and transportation before traveling. His work in digital policy gives him opportunities to attend conferences abroad. Japan is his favorite country for its food, culture, politeness, and cool weather. Regarding study opportunities, he encourages young Burmese to pursue scholarships, and to build skills through reading, volunteering, and gaining experience. 

Episode #445: Born in Yangon in 1984 and raised in the small town of Ye, Shakeel grew up as a Muslim in a deeply divided Myanmar. His childhood was shaped by the tension between his artistic passions and the restrictions of a conservative religious environment. When he began to draw, his relatives told him it was forbidden by faith. School brought little relief—there, Buddhist classmates bullied him with the slur “kalar,” while only a few offered friendship. Books and music became his refuge from isolation. In 2004, Shakeel began his career as a translator and editor at a sports journal. Despite his talent, he faced persistent discrimination from Buddhist colleagues who asked insulting questions about his faith. Feeling alienated, he resigned after a year. Later, at The Voice newspaper, prejudice again forced him out. “I decided I will never apply for a permanent job at a Burmese organization,” he recalls. Instead, he chose the independence of freelance journalism. Photography became his calling—a continuation of his early love for images. But soon after he turned to photojournalism full-time, Myanmar’s 2021 coup changed everything. While documenting protests, Shakeel was arrested and tortured; his Muslim identity only made the physical abuse he suffered even harsher. Fleeing arrest, he escaped to Mae Sot, Thailand, where he continues his work documenting the conflict. Shakeel has witnessed harrowing scenes: airstrikes on civilians in Karenni State, families torn apart, children killed. Haunted by what he saw, he photographs the dead with reverence. “I always apologize to their souls,” he says, “and promise I will use these photos for justice.” Despite lingering prejudice, Shakeel finds hope in the unity of Myanmar’s revolution. “All minorities sacrifice their lives for the country,” he says. “After the revolution, I hope we will live in a place with no discrimination, where everyone has the same opportunity.”

Episode #444: After more than 40 years of Burma advocacy, Larry Dohrs sheds light on the strategies that have exposed corporate and military abuses in the country, inspired meaningful action, and exacted costs from multiple incarnations of the junta. Inspired by his parents’ travels in the 1960s, he first visited Burma in 1982 and was captivated, with lifelong consequences. When he tried to return in 1988, however, the 8888 uprising and bloody crackdown intervened. “I was not too politically focused – history and culture and economics were more what I was interested in,” Dohrssays. “In subsequent years it was people looking at it as a normal country, a normal situation, that I found offensive. That’s where I started to push back.” As a principal figure in groups such as the Seattle Burma Roundtable, Free Burma Coalition, and U.S. Campaign for Burma, Dohrs has been inspired by and worked with a roster of well-known human rights and pro-democracy activists, including author and historian Edith Mirante, activist leader and coalition founder Maung Zarni, and Nobel Peace Laureate Mairead CorriganMaguire. In that journey, he discovered the power of narrative formation pitting him and his allies against a merciless military: “When spiders unite, they can tie down a lion.” He questions the black-and-white portrait, which he admittedly crafted in his advocacy, to describe a country as diverse and complex as Burma, while maintaining clarity on the military’s horrific crimes and the complicity of multinational corporations in their mendacity. Within that reflection, however, are major victories forcing companies such as PepsiCo and Eddie Bauer to cease enriching the military, and the landmark case against Unocal on human rights violations connected to the Yadana gas field. The fight will outlive him, Dohrs says, as the resistance against the military continues. In his assessment, the generals instrumentalize peace talks to forestall accountability, while neighboring states and the UN insist on maintaining a unified nation state that has never existed. The role of the activists, he says, is to promote a more nuanced view that embraces complexity and recognizes the military’s brutality for what it is. 

Episode #443: Ei, a former member of the People’s Defense Force (PDF), shifted from armed resistance to humanitarian work, and now focuses on child soldiers and youth affected by conflict. She joined the PDF at 28, witnessing both bravery and abuse—including harassment and executions over financial disputes—which convinced her that real revolution required education and ethics. “We have different skills for education, for healthcare, for the citizens,” she said. “My mastery is not in my arms, it is in my brain.” After leaving the camp, Ei lived for three years in a rural Karen village, overcoming mistrust through practical work— helping teachers, planting vegetables, and raising livestock to improve food security. Despite airstrikes and instability, she helped build schools and a library, insisting that education must continue even in war. Drawing from these experiences, Ei founded the A Lin Eain Shelter in Mae Sot, Thailand. It provides education, trauma counseling, and vocational training for children under 18 from all sides of the conflict—the military, PDFs, and ethnic armed groups. “If you have any under 18 years old soldier who would like to go to school, we can accept,” she tells resistance leaders. The shelter aims to reintegrate children through practical skills and mental health support. Ei warns that trauma and lost education will shape Myanmar’s future. “If their childhood life is really bad, if they become a soldier, it becomes worse when they hold a weapon,” she said. “Our young people are human resources for the future, and they have to study [to] build a free and just society for the next generation.” She urges both revolutionary and international leaders to invest in education and end child recruitment: “Taking the children out of war is not a loss. It is an investment in our future.”