China helping Myanmar’s junta regain its lost grip

A silent change is taking place in the civil war in the northern hills of Myanmar. After being beaten and discouraged, the coup-installed military junta is regaining control over lost territory. And China seems to be a driving force behind this recovery.

Let’s begin with Kyaukme. The Ta’ang National Liberation Army (TNLA) rebel group captured the city a year ago after months of fierce fighting. Myanmar’s Kyaukme is situated on one of China’s most vital lifelines, linking its southern Yunnan province to the Indian Ocean.

When the town fell to the TNLA, some analysts predicted that the ruling junta was about to collapse. But then, in August 2025, after a three-week intense campaign, Myanmar’s military forces recaptured the city.

It wasn’t simply a tactical victory; it was a reassertion of Beijing’s influence in Myanmar’s civil war and manifestation of the junta’s renewed confidence with China’s firmer backing.

The Chinese lifeline

The Myanmar military didn’t regain Kyaukme with courage alone. They did it with bombs and Beijing’s blessing. Daily air raids destroyed the rebel defense lines. Jets dropped explosives while artillery and Chinese-made drones played havoc with the rebels’ bases. These were the tools of a regime newly equipped by its powerful neighbor.

China’s involvement, of course, is not a matter of generosity – it’s a calculation. Beijing has long viewed Myanmar not as a partner but as a corridor — a strategic gateway to the Bay of Bengal and the Indian Ocean, essential for its energy security and trade routes for its inland provinces.

A stable Myanmar ensures stable access. And so, stability — even when enforced through terror — is precisely what Beijing seeks in Myanmar, despite its double game of arming the United Wa State Army, which then funnels certain weaponry to allied armed groups.

President Xi Jinping’s administration has continued to provide diplomatic and logistical support to the Myanmar military in spite of rising international criticism of its rights-abusing campaign, marked by indiscriminate bombings of civilian populations.

The junta is preparing a “national election” for December this year, a reputed democratic exercise which will ostensibly exclude Aung San Suu Kyi’s National League for Democracy. There is no sign yet that Beijing objects to the junta’s sham election plan.

The symbolism, of course, is stark. An election held without the NLD victors of the 2020 polls, which the party won overwhelmingly, sparking the February 2021 coup, is not democracy – it’s a theater. Yet for China, legitimacy is less important than loyalty and stability.

Meanwhile, the country’s war politics have shifted. The junta of 2024 is not the disoriented, panic-ridden one of 2021. It has adapted to the country’s new reality with brutal efficiency.

The generals learned from their earlier failures against the ethnic militias and the upshot People’s Defense Forces (PDF). And they’ve invested in technology to shift battlefield dynamics.

Drone warfare is one example. Once, rebels used cheap commercial drones to devastating effect, dropping small bombs on military convoys and installations. No longer: China’s advanced jamming technology now neutralizes the rebel devices midair.

At the same time, the junta has imported thousands of new drones, more for killing than reconnaissance. Precision bombing is, at least in some attacks, replacing previous willy-nilly artillery barrages. The balance of power is thus shifting once again in the junta’s favor, one brutal crater at a time.

Rebels in retreat

For the anti-military resistance, the situation looks increasingly bleak. China’s clampdown on its border has blocked the flow of weapons and parts essential to its struggle. Drone components — once easily smuggled through Yunnan — are now restricted exports.

Inside Myanmar, meanwhile, divisions are widening. The opposition, fragmented and leaderless, is losing coherence. The National Unity Government (NUG), a shadow administration formed by mostly ousted NLD lawmakers, commands little operational control. The People’s Defense Forces, though valiant, are decentralized and inconsistent.

The TNLA, the Myanmar National Democratic Alliance Army (MNDAA), and the Arakan Army earlier came together to form the Brotherhood Alliance. During the intense clashes in late 2023, this coalition achieved a string of remarkable victories, seizing unprecedented swathes of territory.

Local media reported that they overran nearly 180 military outposts and seized control of a large portion of northern Shan State in an operation known as “Operation 1027“. Even Mandalay, Myanmar’s second largest city, even appeared to be within the rebels’ reach. There was a brief glimmer of hope that the junta’s time was running out.

Then, it seems, China intervened.

Beijing’s shift wasn’t immediate. Initially, it tolerated the rebels, even allowing them to dismantle scam centers operating near the border, which had embarrassed Chinese authorities. But that tolerance ended once Beijing’s short-term objective was achieved.

By early 2024, China leaned decisively toward the junta. Under quiet pressure, the MNDAA surrendered control of Lashio, the old Shan state command center.

The United Wa State Army, heavily dependent on Chinese trade and arms, cut off weapons to other insurgent groups. And as the Chinese borders tightened, rebel logistics started to crumble.

The junta also regained its control along the Thai frontier, sealing off another vital supply corridor. Resistance armies now find themselves increasingly cornered on geographical, political and perhaps even psychological fronts.

Still, the war’s not over and probably won’t be anytime soon. In Rakhine state, Arakan Army insurgents continue to hold major ground, including as many as 15 of the state’s 17 townships. In the north, Kachin rebels still control vast areas of the state, including crucial critical mineral and rare earth mines.

The election mirage

So what happens next? A junta-staged “election” will likely proceed under at least tacit Chinese support. It will be presented as a step toward stability. While Western governments will inevitably condemn it, ASEAN will issue more cautious statements.

But the deeper question is whether China’s intervention will actually help to stabilize Myanmar. History shows military regimes propped up by foreign powers rarely sustain legitimacy, enduring more through fear than consent.

In the end, Myanmar’s tragedy is less about who holds Kyaukme or Lashio and more about who holds the country’s hearts and minds. And on that front, the Chinese-backed military regime is winning battles but at the expense of losing hearts.

Villages burned, families displaced, children growing up under drone-filled skies – hardly a portrait of national unity. It’s a submission disguised as order. Beijing may decide to eventually call it “peace.” Naypyidaw may call it “security.” But for ordinary Myanmar people, it is rule by fear.

And fear, as history often reminds us, is never the foundation for a permanent solution to conflict. It merely waits — quietly, patiently — for the next uprising to channel its repressed anger and angst.

M A Hossain, senior journalist and international affairs analyst. He can be reached at: writetomahossain@gmail.com