Relatives of those forcibly conscripted by the Myanmar military have little contact with their loved ones, and live in constant fear that they could be sent to fight and die for a cause they don’t believe in.
By FRONTIER
Daw Nyo met her son for a couple of hours the day he graduated from military training.
“I knew he could be sent to the front lines, so I had to remind him not to forget Buddha’s teachings,” she told Frontier in early July, asking to be identified by a pseudonym for security reasons.
In February, the junta activated a conscription law allowing it to draft men aged 18-35 and women aged 18-27, saying it would aim to recruit 50,000-60,000 new troops in the first year. The military is facing widespread losses in a civil war sparked by a 2021 coup and subsequent crackdown on mass demonstrations.
Daw Nyo’s son was one of two men drafted in the first batch from his village in Nay Pyi Taw’s Pyinmana Township, starting his training on April 8 and graduating on June 29. State-run media reported that the recruits were comprehensively trained in both theoretical and practical military tactics. The regime added that all those who graduated from the first batch registered voluntarily, but Daw Nyo said that wasn’t true.
“My son didn’t want to join the military. The village administrator threatened to arrest our family if he didn’t enlist. They didn’t conduct the usual drawing of lots for military service in our village,” she alleged.
The draft is mostly being carried out in areas still firmly under military control, like the fortified capital Nay Pyi Taw and Ayeyarwady Region. In many villages, recruits are selected by a random drawing of lots, but the process has been rife with accusations of bribery and favouritism.
Daw Nyo’s worst fears were confirmed on July 3, when her son called her to say he’d been assigned to serve in Kawkareik in Kayin State. The town has been regularly besieged by the Karen National Union and allied resistance groups since 2022.
“I was worried about his wellbeing and living conditions during the training, but now I have to worry about his safety during the war,” she said.
Training day
Daw Nyo’s son underwent training in nearby Ottarathiri Township, also in Nay Pyi Taw, but she was only allowed to visit him twice during the nearly three-month ordeal. What’s more, he had his phone and ID confiscated at the start of the programme.
She was able to reach him by calling the phone of an army captain, but was then expected to pay the phone bill. Daw Nyo said her son frequently complained about the food during their calls and gruelling 12-hour days starting at 4am.
“Meat was only provided at dinner, but even then they only gave each person a small piece. Breakfast and lunch consisted of cooked vegetables and hard rice,” she said, adding she was able to deliver home-cooked food to him twice during the training.
U Tin Aung in Ayeyarwady Region’s Maubin Township said he also had to contact his nephew through his superior officer’s phone, and he also complained about poor food and living conditions during the training.
The 29-year-old was selected via a random lottery and sent to training at the regional capital Pathein. The family hasn’t heard from him since the training finished and doesn’t know where he’s been deployed.
“He hasn’t contacted his parents. They’re so worried about him but they don’t know how to contact him. We can’t do anything but wait for him to contact us,” said Tin Aung, who also requested to use a pseudonym.
Daw Nyo’s son was married but the only one of her four children without children of his own, so he still lived with his parents, while his siblings had already moved out.
“Now that he’s gone, his wife has moved back to her parents’ house,” she said. “We don’t own any farmland and are quite poor. We relied on our son. My husband is sick and unable to work.”
He had only completed the fifth grade in school and was working as a hired farm labourer, earning around K10,000 per day (about US$2 at the market rate). Tin Aung’s nephew only completed third grade and earned K8,000-10,000 per day doing the same work.
Daw Nyo said the village administrator promised to collect money from the other villagers every month to pay her son – similar to arrangements made in communities elsewhere – but in the end only gave him a one-time payment of K250,000.
“He didn’t provide any further support. My son didn’t want to join the military, so he was unhappy with the administrator. I wouldn’t complain if they had done a random draw to determine who would join, but this is just tyranny,” she said.
Other villagers said the second batch was determined by a random draw on June 29, with eight more men being selected.
“We haven’t heard anything about the third batch yet,” said another resident. “Parents with adult sons are very distressed. They’re afraid they will be next.”
Daw Nyo said very few people in her village supported the coup, and the subsequent crisis has only made the military more unpopular.
“Min Aung Hlaing’s military coup has made the people suffer,” she said. “I think everyone has their own problems because of the coup, but I never imagined my son would have to serve in the military.”
On the front lines
Daw Nyo said she requested that her son not be deployed to a conflict zone, and the captain at the training centre assured her he’d be sent to Pyawbwe Township, a relatively stable area in southern Mandalay Region, near Nay Pyi Taw. That turned out to be a lie, and she said she wasn’t given an opportunity to pay a bribe for a more favourable deployment, as has been rumoured in some cases.
Captain Kaung Thu Win, who defected from the military shortly after the coup, said that long before the conscription drive began, army recruits could typically avoid frontline deployments if they were close to senior officers or had the money to bribe them. But he also warned that many of the new conscripts will likely be assigned to conflict zones because that’s where they are needed the most, and that those with the means or connections would have been able to avoid conscription entirely.
Involuntary recruits being sent to the front lines raises a thorny problem for resistance groups, who may find themselves inadvertently gunning down compatriots who don’t even support the military.
“Our revolutionary forces consider anyone who protects the military council to be a public enemy. Therefore, it’s our responsibility to eliminate them,” said U Maung Maung Swe, deputy secretary of the National Unity Government’s Ministry of Defence.
The NUG is a parallel government appointed by elected lawmakers deposed in the coup, and it nominally oversees pro-democracy militias known as People’s Defence Forces. In practice, many PDFs operate with a high degree of autonomy or under the command of more established ethnic armed groups.
Maung Maung Swe told Frontier that conscripts sent to the battlefield should “raise the white flag”.
“Surrender your weapons and we will guarantee your safety,” he said. “We have already communicated this to the relevant PDFs and People’s Defence Teams. Don’t let yourself be exploited by the military council.”
He called on soldiers to contact PDFs or ethnic armed groups in the area to help them desert from the military.
A member of the Mandalay PDF, serving under the command of the Ta’ang National Liberation Army in northern Shan State, said they would continue fighting as usual, and that it was the responsibility of conscripts to contact resistance groups to desert.
About 8,000 police and soldiers deserted or defected in the first year after the coup, but since then the flow has slowed to a trickle. The NUG claims desertions are on the rise again since the conscription drive began.
The parallel government has also launched a Telegram channel to help young people avoid the draft in the first place. It says about 15,000 people contacted the channel between March 30 and April 30, although many of them were likely seeking help pre-emptively and have yet to receive a summons.
“The revolutionary forces, including the NUG, are doing their best to assist people to avoid military service. However, their capacity to reach all parts of the country is still limited,” said Kaung Thu Win.
On June 25, the regime announced the commencement of training for the third batch of recruits. Sources in Pathein told Frontier that junta officials have also started taking down the names of women in the township as potential conscripts, although it’s not clear when any of them will actually be forced into service.
“The junta will continue to enlist people to serve in the military until it collapses,” Kaung Thu Win said. “Sooner or later, it could be your turn.”
Daw Nyo hasn’t heard from her son since July 3, and she waits anxiously by the phone every day for him to call and tell her he’s still alive.
“The next time he contacts me, I’ll ask him about the situation and tell him to flee if possible. I don’t want him to lose his arms or legs,” she said. “Even when I’m working on the farms, my mind is always on my son.”
