How aid becomes a weapon in Myanmar’s war zone

In the immediate aftermath of an earthquake, there is a 72-hour “golden window” when those trapped under rubble are most likely to survive.

But in the 72 hours after a 7.7 magnitude quake struck Myanmar on Friday, rescue and relief workers seeking access to some of the worst-hit areas were blocked by military authorities, multiple aid and human rights groups told the BBC.

This was despite a rare plea for international humanitarian assistance by junta chief Min Aung Hlaing.

“I would like to invite any country, any organisation, or anyone in Myanmar to come and help,” he said in a speech shortly after the disaster, claiming he had “opened all ways for foreign aid”.

On the ground, things moved less freely.

“I’ve talked to a few people now that were part of the rescue efforts in both Sagaing and Mandalay, and they said that [the military] imposed a curfew… the roads were blocked, the checkpoints were really long, and there was a huge checking of goods and services going in and a lot of questioning,” John Quinley, director of international human rights group Fortify Rights, told the BBC.

“It could have just been a lot easier to allow those people in,” he added. “Obviously the Myanmar junta said it was for safety reasons, but I don’t believe that’s totally legitimate.”

Meanwhile, the golden window closed.

At the time of writing, more than 2,886 people in Myanmar are confirmed dead as a result of the earthquake.

On Tuesday night, an attack on an aid convoy further exacerbated concerns.

At 21:21, a convoy of nine Chinese Red Cross Society vehicles carrying earthquake relief supplies was attacked by the military, according to Ta’ang National Liberation Army (TNLA), a resistance group in Shan State.

The convoy was traveling toward Mandalay when it was fired upon by soldiers with machine guns, forcing it to turn back, the TNLA said in a Telegram post late on Tuesday.

A junta spokesperson later confirmed that soldiers had shot at the vehicles, saying they had not been notified that the convoy would be passing through and fired warning shots after it failed to stop.

But this is not the first time the junta has attacked aid workers, Mr Quinley said.

“They pick and choose when aid can go in, and if they can’t monitor it and they can’t use it how they want, they restrict it,” he said. “They definitely also, on top of that, actively target humanitarian workers.”

The junta, which began fighting a civil war with resistance forces in Myanmar after it seized control of the country in 2021, has a history of weaponising aid and humanitarian assistance: funnelling it towards areas that are under its control and restricting it in areas that are not.

The BBC assessed the power balance in more than 14,000 village groups as of mid-November last year, and found the military only has full control of 21% of Myanmar’s territory, nearly four years on from the start of the conflict.

In previous natural disasters, such as Cyclone Mocha in 2023 and Typhoon Yagi in 2024, which left hundreds dead, the military obstructed relief efforts in resistance-held areas by refusing to release supplies from customs, authorise travel for aid workers or relax restrictions on lifesaving assistance.

“It’s a worrying trend that happens in times of crisis, like the earthquake,” Mr Quinley said. “The junta is blocking any aid to what they see as groups that are aligned with the broader resistance.”

James Rodehaver, head of the Myanmar team at the Office for the UN’s High Commissioner for Human Rights, further suggested that the junta deprives Myanmar’s population of aid as a form of punishment.

“They do that because the local population, by and large, does not support them, so by depriving them of humanitarian aid, they are both punishing them but also cutting off their ability to support themselves and be resilient,” he told the BBC.

There are already signs the junta may be repeating this tactic in Sagaing.

Although central Myanmar, which includes the cities of Sagaing and Mandalay, is nominally run by the junta – meaning aid can only be delivered to the area with their co-operation – large parts of the broader Sagaing and Mandalay regions are considered resistance strongholds.

The likelihood that the junta might tactically deprive these areas of aid has prompted outcry from hundreds of human rights and civil society organisations, who have urged the international community to ensure relief efforts get to where they’re most needed, and aren’t channelled through the military government.

One such statement, signed by 265 civil society organisations and released on Sunday, notes that most of the worst-hit areas are under the effective control and administration of pro-democracy resistance groups.

“Myanmar’s history provides stark warnings about the dangers of channelling aid through the military junta,” it reads.

In Sagaing, the impact of aid shortfalls can already be seen in troubling ways, according to relief agencies.

They speak of shortages of food, water and fuel, while trucks carrying aid are stranded at military checkpoints around the city. Hundreds of residents, suddenly homeless, are sleeping outside on the street. Rescue volunteers who were forced to dig through the rubble with their bare hands have run out of body bags for those they couldn’t save.

Other community members seeking to respond to the earthquake are being forced to get authorisation from junta authorities by submitting lists of volunteers and items to be donated, local media reported.

This tactic – of bombarding responders with lengthy bureaucratic checklists and processes – is routinely deployed by the junta to restrict the activities of international aid organisations in Myanmar, humanitarian sources told the BBC.

According to a registration law imposed in 2023, such organisations must attain a registration certificate, and often sign a memorandum of understanding with relevant government ministries, to legally operate inside the country.

One source, who spoke to the BBC on condition of anonymity, said aid groups are often required to remove certain activities, areas or townships from their proposals, with no room for negotiation. Areas where the junta doesn’t have oversight or control over the aid work are typically those that are disallowed, they added.

Aid agencies have found ways to navigate the junta’s restriction, however: a lot of humanitarian assistance in Myanmar happens underground, via local groups that can bypass checkpoints and distribute aid without attracting the attention of the authorities.

Many financial transactions in humanitarian aid also happen outside of Myanmar’s banking system, so that actors can avoid scrutiny and potential investigation from the country’s central bank, a source told the BBC. In some cases, humanitarian organisations open bank accounts in Thailand so that they can privately receive aid funds, then carry the money over the border into Myanmar in cash.

Such covert methods take time, however, and could lead to potentially fatal delays of days or weeks.

Some aid workers are hopeful that, given the scale of Friday’s earthquake and the international appeal for assistance by Min Aung Hlaing, it may be easier to overcome barriers and provide aid more efficiently.

“In the past we have faced some challenges,” said Louise Gorton, an emergency specialist based in Unicef’s East Asia and Pacific Regional Office.

“The scale of this emergency, though, is significantly higher… I think there will be pressure on the regime to ensure unfettered and unimpeded humanitarian access – and we’ll continue to repeat the same need and find ways, sometimes low-key ways, to deliver aid.”

Cara Bragg, country manager for the Catholic Relief Services (CRS) team in Myanmar, said that while it’s too early to tell whether the junta will truly “open all ways for foreign aid”, her team is prepared to navigate the complex humanitarian situation to deliver assistance.

“It’s certainly a concern that they [the military] may direct the aid in specific places, and not based on need,” said Ms Bragg, who is based in Yangon.

“But as humanitarian actors CRS works under a humanitarian mandate, and will be very focused on getting aid to the places it needs to go – to the hardest-hit areas, regardless of who controls them.”

Early indications suggest that, despite Min Aung Hlaing’s plea to the international community, the embattled junta leader is unlikely to prioritise the unfettered flow of humanitarian aid.

Shortly after the earthquake, military jets launched a series of airstrikes on affected areas, killing more than 50 civilians, according to the National Unity Consultative Council (NUCC).

Then, on Tuesday, Min Aung Hlaing rejected ceasefire proposals that were put forward by resistance groups in a bid to facilitate aid. Military operations would continue as “necessary protective measures”, he said.

The junta changed its mind a day later, agreeing to a 20-day ceasefire to help relief efforts. But it remains to be seen whether the pause in hostilities will hold. The military stressed it would “respond accordingly” if rebels launched attacks.

For many onlookers, this seeming contradiction – of asking for aid with one hand while conducting military strikes with the other – chimes with Min Aung Hlaing’s history of duplicity.

John Quinley, from Fortify Rights, noted that the junta leader has “lied on numerous occasions” – and suggested that the recent appeal for foreign aid is more likely an appeal for international recognition.

Against that backdrop, Mr Quinley added, it’s critical to ensure earthquake relief gets to where it is most needed.

“I think as a human rights group we need to monitor: OK, [Min Aung Hlaing] allows aid in – but is it actually reaching people in need? Or is he weaponising the aid? Is he blocking the aid from getting to communities in need?” he said.

“I’m not hopeful when it comes to taking what Min Aung Hlaing says with any hint of truth.”