Since the February 2021 military coup, Myanmar has descended into unprecedented chaos. The country has fractured under the weight of violent repression and grassroots resistance across the country. In just over four years, more than 500 new armed groups have emerged nationwide, adding to the already long standing ethnic armed organizations (EAOs). What began as sporadic guerrilla warfare has escalated into a full-scale, multifront conflict. Over 16,000 armed clashes have erupted between the junta’s forces and various resistance groups, marking one of the most intense civil conflicts in Southeast Asia in recent history.
A major turning point came on October 27, 2023, when the Three Brotherhood Alliance – comprising the Arakan Army (AA), the Myanmar National Democratic Alliance Army (MNDAA), and the Ta’ang National Liberation Army (TNLA) – launched Operation 1027. Working alongside other resistance forces, they delivered a significant blow to the junta, seizing territory and forcing the military out of key strongholds across the country. In perhaps the most symbolic victory, the MNDAA and its allies captured the Northeastern Regional Military Command based in Lashio, Northern Shan State – an unprecedented achievement in the modern era of Myanmar’s civil-war.
On the other hand, China has long been a quiet but powerful player in Myanmar’s political and security dynamics, all while officially adhering to a policy of “non-interference.” Since the 2021 coup, however, Beijing has been recalibrating that approach – aiming to shield its strategic investments from instability while keeping a watchful eye on developments along its southwestern border. In the wake of the second phase of Operation 1027, China’s role as a mediator took on a noticeably more assertive, even coercive, tone. Traditionally viewed as a neutral facilitator between the junta and border-based EAOs, China’s latest round of mediation marked a sharp departure – not only in its style, but in its strategic intent.
This time, Beijing pushed forcefully for a resolution that aligned with its own interests. It sought to preserve the existing power imbalance between the military junta and the resistance, ensuring that no single actor could gain enough strength to undermine China’s influence in the region. Using a mix of diplomatic pressure and economic incentives, China succeeded in securing the outcome it wanted. In April 2025, after nine months of holding Lashio, MNDAA troops handed the city back to the junta – a move that would have been unthinkable without Chinese intervention.
This was no isolated event. It marked the consolidation of a broader pattern and phenomenon: China’s growing ability to dictate outcomes on the ground in Myanmar. Increasingly, Beijing is deciding not only who sits at the negotiating table, but also who gets what as the negotiation result. For Myanmar’s resistance forces, the implications are profound. China’s assertiveness is not limited to military maneuvering – it is reshaping the political terrain itself. When China takes the lead in determining Myanmar’s future, there are three key consequences.
The first major implication is that China is actively capping the strategic ceiling of Myanmar’s resistance forces in their pursuit of a military victory. For the resistance, the endgame strategy remains clear: to dismantle the military junta through armed struggle, a narrative that continues to dominate both public discourse and tactical planning. However, China’s coercive style of mediation, most notably demonstrated in Northern Shan State, subtly undermines this objective. While Beijing may not react to every town or city that falls into the hands of resistance forces, it has shown a readiness to intervene when its core interests are at risk. This signals a clear message: there are limits to how far the resistance can go before Beijing draws a line.
Importantly, this is not simply a matter of China siding with either the junta or the resistance. Rather, it reflects a broader strategic calculation – what might be called a deliberate act of “ground balancing” in Myanmar’s volatile power equation. From Beijing’s perspective, a politically fragmented Myanmar is far more manageable than a territorially fragmented one. A country weak and divided – but still intact – better serves China’s long-term interests, allowing it to exert influence without the risks that come with state collapse or regional instability. Beijing’s ideal situation is a Myanmar weak enough to be pliable, yet intact enough to serve China’s strategic interests.
A second key implication is the emergence of a “conflict termination model with Chinese characteristics” that could become a defining reference point for Myanmar. For years, Western donors and governments have invested heavily in Myanmar’s peace process – supporting ceasefire monitoring, dialogue facilitation, and the development of institutional mechanisms. Yet the results have been modest at best, with few durable outcomes. In contrast, China is now advancing its own model, one marked by assertive mediation and direct participation in ceasefire monitoring, exemplified by its role in the recent handover in Lashio. If the Lashio process proves effective, it could set a precedent for how future conflicts in Myanmar are managed – and shaped by Beijing’s strategic calculus.
At the same time, China’s growing dominance in shaping de-escalation dynamics is becoming more pronounced, particularly as the United States scales back funding to organizations across multiple sectors in Myanmar. Moreover, Beijing wields considerable leverage not only over key domestic actors but also over influential ASEAN member states such as Thailand and Malaysia – an influence that inevitably shapes every negotiation process. Yet while China may be capable of facilitating a reduction in violence, it is unlikely to foster the deeper structural reforms necessary for sustainable peace. For Beijing, positive peace – defined by justice, equity, and long-term political solutions – may not align with its strategic interests, nor does it appear to be a pragmatic objective in the context of today’s Myanmar.
The final and perhaps most troubling implication concerns the broader geopolitical stakes of China’s active and increasingly direct involvement in Myanmar. At present, two possible trajectories are emerging on the global stage: “geopolitical neglect” and “geopolitical competition” between the United States and China. Both scenarios pose serious risks to Myanmar’s long-term interests.
In the case of geopolitical neglect, a weary international community – distracted by crises elsewhere and gripped by inward-looking priorities – is likely to cede ground to China. Regional actors, including Myanmar’s immediate neighbors, may prioritize short-term stability and the protection of their strategic interests over sustainable peacebuilding and democratic governance. In such a context, China will be well-positioned to lead Myanmar’s post-conflict transition according to its own strategic interests, with little pushback against its preferred outcomes. This passive acquiescence – effectively letting Beijing shape the future of the country – is the essence of geopolitical neglect.
The alternative, however, may be even more dangerous. A resurgence of great power rivalry, marked by strategic denial, destabilization efforts, and a race for influence and resources, could plunge Myanmar deeper into chaos. In such a scenario, the country becomes a theater for geopolitical competition rather than a subject of genuine international support. Power vacuums would widen, state institutions could collapse further, and illicit economies, from arms trafficking to narcotics, would thrive in the resulting instability. Simply put, the second path could be disastrous. Whether through neglect or rivalry, the international community’s failure to act responsibly risks consigning Myanmar to a future defined not by peace or prosperity, but by fragility and foreign manipulation.
Myanmar has moved far beyond the political crisis it faced prior to the 2021 coup. The country is now entrenched in a protracted and complex civil conflict, with both the military junta and resistance forces locked into their own uncompromising agendas. Meanwhile, the international environment is increasingly indifferent, distracted by competing global crises and reluctant to engage meaningfully. In this context, Myanmar may ultimately have to chart its own exit from the cycle of conflict and fragmentation.
The British colonial scholar John Sydenham Furnivall once warned that “after a period of anarchy more or less prolonged, our descendants may find Burma a province of China.” In calmer times, such a statement might have seemed hyperbolic or unduly alarmist. But in the current moment of profound instability, Furnivall’s words ring with unsettling relevance. While Myanmar is unlikely to become a literal province of China, Beijing’s expanding influence over the country’s political and territorial reconfiguration is unmistakable – and increasingly decisive.
