Myanmar’s Information War: A Battle for Truth in the Shadow of Military Rule

In Myanmar, the information battleground has become as crucial as physical combat, with the military junta deploying sophisticated propaganda tactics against a resistance that struggles to counter effectively.

Since the 2021 coup, the military regime has intensified a propaganda apparatus built over six decades, jailing hundreds of journalists and shuttering independent media outlets. The generals, recognizing they cannot win genuine public support, have instead focused on creating an atmosphere of confusion and exhaustion where citizens no longer know whom to trust.

On the domestic front, the junta’s information strategy pursues two primary objectives. First, they seek to discredit resistance leadership to cut off domestic and international funding. State and proxy media consistently portray the National Unity Government (NUG) and resistance commanders as corrupt, divided, or self-serving, while distributing pamphlets accusing them of narcotics trafficking.

One particularly damaging narrative falsely claims the NUG is misappropriating U.S. aid. This distortion ignores the reality that U.S. humanitarian and democracy programs are tightly controlled by American agencies, with funds channeled through UN bodies and vetted NGOs—not directly to the NUG.

The military’s second domestic objective involves reopening historical fractures in Myanmar society. The same divisive tactics once used against the Rohingya minority are now deployed to undermine unprecedented cooperation between Bamar-majority People’s Defense Forces and ethnic resistance organizations (EROs). Religious divisions are inflamed by ultranationalist Buddhist monks aligned with authorities, while generational conflicts are stoked by portraying older democratic politicians as weak and younger activists as reckless.

“Myanmar’s sectarian divisions are not innate; they are the deliberate product of decades of military policy and propaganda,” explains a regional security analyst who requested anonymity for safety concerns. “This engineered hatred serves the regime by preventing a unified opposition.”

Internationally, the generals have crafted a three-pronged narrative: that the NUG is fragmented with little authority; that the resistance coalition is too divided to govern; and that despite its crimes, the military remains the only institution capable of preventing state collapse.

This messaging has been amplified through sophisticated channels. Russia provides arms, joint exercises, media partnerships, and “cognitive warfare” expertise designed to shape how societies think long-term. Simultaneously, the generals have invested heavily in Western lobbying, including multi-million-dollar contracts with Washington PR firms like DCI Group and McKeon Group—resources the NUG cannot match.

The impact of these investments is evident in recent pro-regime opinion pieces appearing in publications like Forbes, The Hill, and The Washington Times. These articles consistently downplay the regime’s brutality while arguing that engagement with authorities and acceptance of military-managed elections represents the path to “stability.” They often dangle economic incentives, suggesting that normalized ties would grant Western companies access to Myanmar’s strategic resources like rare earth elements.

“This economic argument is fundamentally flawed,” notes Dr. Sarah Johnson, an expert on Southeast Asian political economy. “For decades, it’s been the military that has granted China access to Myanmar’s resources in exchange for political protection. Western normalization would simply add legitimacy to a regime already dominated by Beijing and Moscow.”

The information landscape is further complicated by opportunistic actors claiming to support the revolution while undermining it. Some diaspora politicians, social media personalities, and NGO leaders prioritize personal visibility and donor relationships over strategic resistance goals. Personality-driven fundraising has diverted resources from accountable structures to opaque “brands,” as illustrated by the case of Bo Nagar, once celebrated online but later accused of serious abuses before reportedly fleeing toward military-controlled territory.

Meanwhile, the NUG struggles with a dangerous information deficit. Its leadership, formed in an era of quiet negotiations rather than 24-hour digital warfare, lacks the communications infrastructure to counter the military’s Russian-backed propaganda machine and Western lobbyists. In Washington, NUG diplomacy has relied on a small team with limited professional communications capacity and no fully resourced public affairs operation.

“Silence in this environment isn’t neutral—it concedes ground,” warns a former diplomat familiar with Myanmar’s situation. “The NUG must recognize information warfare as a core battlefield and invest in professional communications, fact-checking, and rapid-response capabilities.”

As Myanmar’s conflict continues, the military is gambling that even as it loses territory, it can win the narrative: that foreign governments will accept its staged elections, that donors will prioritize stability and resource access, and that the resistance will never build the capacity to effectively contest the regime’s story. For Myanmar’s democratic future, that bet must fail.