Civilians in Myanmar’s rebel-controlled regions are enduring an escalating wave of air strikes and military assaults as the ruling junta presses ahead with elections that critics describe as deeply illegitimate.
Late one night in November, Iang Za Kim was jolted awake by explosions in a nearby village. Moments later, fighter jets roared overhead. Fearing her own village would be next, she fled with her family, carrying only food and a few clothes, and hid in the surrounding jungle.
Recalling the events of 26 November in K-Haimual village in western Chin State, Iang struggles to hold back tears. She is one of thousands of civilians displaced in recent weeks after Myanmar’s military launched an intense air and ground campaign to regain territory ahead of elections scheduled to begin on 28 December.
Others sheltering with her, sitting on straw mats, are also visibly shaken. For many, the violence is compounded by fear of being forced to take part in the vote.
“If we are caught and refuse to vote, they will arrest and torture us,” Iang says. “We escaped so we wouldn’t have to vote.”
Residents and rights groups in Chin State say the latest offensive is the most severe in more than three years. Many families have fled to safer parts of the state, while others have crossed into India’s Mizoram region. Iang and her group are now living in a dilapidated badminton court in Vaphai village, surviving on donated food and basic supplies from local residents.
Among them is 80-year-old Ral Uk Thang, who spent days hiding in the jungle before reaching safety. He says fear of the military drove him from his home.
“Our own government terrifies us,” he says. “They arrest people, torture them and burn villages.”
Reporting from inside Myanmar remains extremely difficult, as the military authorities restrict access for foreign journalists. Since seizing power in a coup in February 2021, shortly after national elections, the junta has been accused of widespread repression and indiscriminate attacks on civilians as it battles armed resistance across the country.
During the current offensive, a hospital in neighbouring Rakhine State was hit by air strikes, killing dozens according to rebel groups. In Chin State, local rights organisations report that schools and churches have also been targeted, resulting in civilian deaths, including children. The military government has not responded to questions about these allegations.
For Bawi Nei Lian, the violence has meant displacement for a second time. His home was destroyed in an air strike in 2021, forcing his family to rebuild their lives elsewhere. Now, they have lost everything again.
Leaving was devastating, he says, but necessary to survive. He rejects the junta’s claims that the upcoming election will be free or fair, pointing out that the country’s main opposition party is barred from participating.
The National League for Democracy, led by Aung San Suu Kyi, won decisive victories in elections before the coup. Most of its senior figures, including Suu Kyi herself, are now imprisoned and the party will not contest the vote.
Many displaced civilians believe the election outcome is already decided. “Even if we voted for another party, they would manipulate the results,” Iang says.
The vote will be held in stages, with results expected by late January. Resistance groups have dismissed it as a façade designed to entrench military rule.
At a base operated by the Chin National Front, one of the region’s main rebel groups, vice-chairman Sui Khar says the military lacks control over large parts of Chin State, making a credible election impossible. He describes ongoing clashes, with troops advancing from multiple directions, supported by air strikes, artillery and drones.
The human cost of the fighting is evident at the group’s makeshift hospital, where injured fighters, many barely out of their teens, are being treated. Some have lost limbs after stepping on landmines or being wounded in air attacks.
Despite their injuries, several say they are determined to continue resisting. One young fighter, who lost a leg, says the sacrifice is worth it if it brings a better future for the next generation.
For older civilians like Ral Uk Thang, hope is fragile. He dreams of returning home one day but doubts he will live to see democracy restored.
“I just hope my children and grandchildren will see it,” he says.