This essay was produced as part of an assignment for the Global Digital Infrastructure Certificate at the University of California, Berkeley.

The course is a collaboration between the university, DCD>Academy, the SubOptic Foundation, and iMasons to establish a cutting-edge university curriculum that covers the technical, economic, legal, environmental, and social dimensions of the global Internet’s infrastructure.

As part of this partnership, DCD will be publishing work from some of the students on the course. The author of this essay has asked to remain anonymous.

Mary, a young student from Karenni, Myanmar, dreamed of a connected future. In May 2025, she joined UC Berkeley’s Global Digital Infrastructure Certificate program to learn how her generation could rebuild broken networks and restore her community’s voice. But just weeks later, military airstrikes shattered that dream and turned her hometown, Demoso, into a battlefield. The Internet went silent, the lights went out, and survival became her only lesson. By the first week of October 2025, fierce battles continued to tear through Demoso township.

Mary’s story is not unique. Across Karenni and Myanmar, connectivity is no longer about education—it is about survival. Without it, families can’t warn of bombings, doctors can’t save lives, and students can’t learn. Her story is a call to action: affordable, resilient connectivity in conflict zones is essential because survival and destiny depend on it.

Karenni origin and early struggle

Myanmar, with over 54.5 million people (WB, 2024), is home to over 100 ethnic communities ), grouped into eight official groups: Bamar (68 percent), Chin (2.5 percent), Kachin (1.5 percent), Karen (seven percent), Karenni (1.83 percent), Mon (two percent), Rakhine (four percent), and Shan (nine percent). Each adds to the nation’s diversity and history.

Karenni, nestled between Burma and Thailand, has long been a resilient land. Alongside the Karen and Pa-O, their roots stretch back to ancient migrations from Central Asia and Yunnan, settling in today’s Kayah regions by the 8th century BCE.

Karenni society evolved from village-based systems into Sawphya chiefdoms, forming a unified territory across west and east. It is home to numerous subgroups, such as Bre-Kayaw, Geba, Geko, Kayah, Kayan, Manu-Manaw, Kawyaw/Pre, Paku, Yintale, Yin Baw, Zayein/Lahta and more (TI, July 2018), each with distinct traditions shaped by Buddhism (49.9 percent), and Christianity (45.8 percent), Muslim (1.1 percent), Hindu (0.1 percent), Indigenous beliefs (1.9 percent), and others (1.2 percent).

The Karenni, economically reliant on farming, livestock, and bronze work, forged relationships with Chiang Mai, Burmese kings, and the British, who in 1875 with the Burmese king, Mindon Min, formally recognized the independence of the four Western Karenni states - Kyebogyi, Bawlake, Nanmekhon, and Naungpale - as feudatories, excluding the Eastern Karenni state (Kantarawaddy), a tributary of the Burmese Kingdom.

After the 1885 Anglo-Burmese War, triggered by Burmese fines on the British-controlled Bombay-Burmah Trading Corporation, Ltd. for underreporting teak and underpaying Burmese workers, Britain used its interest in the region’s teak resources as a pretext to further expand control. The British invaded and annexed Upper Burma in 1886. Teak was vital to the British Empire because of its exceptional durability, resistance to rot, and suitability for shipbuilding, railway sleepers, and military infrastructure, and its exceptional commercial value as a durable export timber, making Burma one of the Empire’s most valuable hardwood sources.

In 1888, refusing to submit to British authority, the Eastern Karenni state of Kantarawaddy, launched an attack on the Shan State of Mawkmai, the British’s suzerainty, resulting in the British subjugating the Eastern Karenni and ending its independence. As result, despite the 1875 agreement, the British then imposed a protectorate through the 1891 Sanad Act on the Western Karenni along with the Eastern Karenni, though efforts to merge into the Federated Shan States failed.

Decades of Resistance and Resilience

During the early 1940s, Burmese nationalists initially collaborated with Imperial Japan, hoping that Japanese support would help end British colonial rule in Burma.

Japan invaded Burma in late 1941, quickly seizing Rangoon in March 1942 and key resource sites, including the Mawchi tungsten mines in West Karenni in April 1942, the world's largest producer of tungsten in the 1930, producing about 85 percent of the British empire’s needs. During the occupation from 1942 to 1945, Japanese forces imposed harsh control, while the British organized resistance through the Special Operations Executive (SOE). Operating in the Karen and Karenni hills, local fighters aided Allied officers in guerrilla warfare under Operation Character, sabotaging Japanese supply lines and contributing significant guerrilla support, especially in the Karenni highlands.

However, Japanese occupation proved to be more oppressive than British rule, undermining Burmese autonomy with a puppet government and stirring disillusionment among nationalist leaders. By 1944–1945, the Burmese nationalists had also grown skeptical of Japanese promises and secretly negotiated with the Allies. On March 27, 1945, they turned the Burma National Army against the Japanese and joined the Allied effort to expel them.

Despite the Karenni’s loyalty and support for the Allied cause, postwar British authorities disregarded the 1875 treaty and favored unification with Burma to expedite independence. The British government backed Aung San’s vision of Burmese unity to hasten Britain’s withdrawal and maintain influence. In April 1946, the British dismissed the United Karenni Independent States’ Council as “unconstitutional,” effectively nullifying prior autonomy guarantees. This decision, driven by postwar insecurity, limited military resources, and political expediency, prioritized a rapid exit over honoring ethnic self-determination commitments. (TR, 2019)

Between 1940 and 1947, Karenni leaders resisted integration into British Burma or the Federated Shan States to preserve independence. In 1945, Karenni leaders from all territories convened to politically organize for Karenni issue, and on February 25, 1946, the United Karenni Interim State Council was formed with a constitution, as “the Karenni Government”, with Gobi Tu Re as Chairman to defend Sovereignty.

On the eve of Burma’s independence, Karenni leaders were split between those favoring integration and those defending the autonomy guaranteed by the 1875 treaty. Because the Karenni were semi-independent and not part of Ministerial Burma, they neither joined nor consented to the Panglong Agreement. However, the 1947 Constitution merged the Karenni states into a single State under the union of Burma with a nominal right to secede after ten years, a move viewed as colonial, rejected by some leaders, and followed by a forceful invasion.

Minister of Defence of the Karenni Government, Khu Daniel, who has served in the Karenni government since 1985, emphasized the importance of global understanding, stating: “Countries away from Myanmar do not know much about Myanmar. It’s essential to know why the ethnic resistance organizations (EROs) started the revolution, and after the 2021 coup, why the people, youth and all joined the revolution.”

Myanmar has always been a union in name only, not in practice. Pre-colonial Burma was a centralized monarchy with tributary states, not a constitutional union of equal units. Under British rule, Burma was part of India, then separated in 1937 under the 1935 Governance of Burma Act, which kept “Ministerial Burma” and the Frontier Areas under separate administrations - not a federal union. The concept of “Union of Burma” emerged only with the 1947 constitution with asymmetrical federal structure, and independence in 1948 after controversial Panglong-era negotiations, without representatives from Karen, Karenni, Rakhine and Mon, and one major flaw, “without separate state legislature".

On August 9, 1948, Burmese forces attacked Mya Le village in Karenni, home of Chairman Gobi Tu Re and the Karenni Independent States’ Council, sparking the first armed uprising. Now marked as Karenni National Resistance Day, this led to the creation of the United Karenni States Independence Army, renamed the Karenni Army in 1973, to defend independence and resist forced integration into Burma.

The assassination of Chairman Gobi Tu Re on September 8, 1948, strengthened the resolve. In 1951, the state was unilaterally renamed “Kayah” without the people's consensus as a political attempt to erase the Karenni identity of independence and create “divide and rule” division between the Kayah and other Karen people, fueling further conflict.

In 1954, “the United Karenni State (U.K.S)” was was established with four Karenni Territories (Kyebogyi, Kantarawadi, Bawlake and Mobye) In 1957, the United Karenni Interim State Council (UKISC) was restructured as the Karenni National Progressive Party (KNPP) with its armed wing, the KSIA, declaring Karenni regions, “the United Karenni State (U.K.S)”.

In July 1961, Shan leaders convened the Taunggyi Conference, attended by Karenni observers, to discuss federal principles ensuring equality among states, shared legislative power, and fair distribution of resources. The military later denounced these proposals as secessionist, leading to the coup on March 2, 1962.

The Karenni struggle, marked by ideological disputes and internal divisions, gave rise to groups like the Kayan New Land Party and the Karenni Nationalities People’s Liberation Front, as General Ne Win’s 1962 coup entrenched one-party military rule and escalated Burma’s internal wars.

Decades of economic decline, corruption, and repression culminated in the 1988 nationwide uprising, when the military’s demonetization policy wiped out citizens’ savings and triggered mass protests, demanding democracy and equality. Beginning in 1989 the Myanmar military regime struck cease-fire deals with many ethnic armed organisations; some Karenni factions such as the KNPLF (and allied groups) accepted these deals or transformed into Border Guard Forces by 2009. By contrast, the main Karenni resistance group KNPP fought on.

Although a quasi-civilian government emerged in 2011 under the 2008 constitution, the military retained control of key ministries and 25 percent of parliamentary seats, leaving Karenni areas under increased militarization. The 2008 Constitution further divided ethnic groups, but the KNPP refused to sign ceasefire agreements or join the Border Guard Forces, insisting on reaching a political settlement first, and became a founding member of the United Nationalities Federal Council (UNFC), pushing for a federal democratic system.

More than seventy years after independence, the Karenni struggle for freedom and self-determination has culminated in mass civilian flight; more than 80 percent of Karenni people are forcibly displaced, as of 2024. Yet their resilience endures in preserving culture, pursuing education, and striving for freedom, justice and federal democracy, rooted in self-determination.

This complex history, like every chapter of humanity’s struggle, underscores the importance of understanding the reality on the ground. As Khu Plue Reh, general secretary of the Interim Executive Council (IEC), explains: “We want people around the world to understand our reality… That’s why we keep speaking because awareness and solidarity are the first steps toward freedom.”

The 2021 coup to nationwide revolution

The February 1, 2021 coup, justified by fabricated claims of electoral fraud, ended the quasi-democratic opening and sparked mass peaceful protests nationwide, led by youth and civil servants. When the military responded with brutal crackdowns, mass arrests and extrajudicial killings, civil servants, professionals, and young people joined the Civil Disobedience Movement (CDM) as an act of defiance.

By late March, Myanmar’s decades-long conflict took a new turn after the 2021 coup, sparking a nationwide revolution and the rise of over 2,600 new resistance groups; 21 percent of all global non-state armed actors. Many emerged from peaceful protesters forced to take up arms amid brutal military crackdowns marked by arrests, torture, and killings. This broad-based “Spring Revolution,” uniting students, farmers, civil servants, and ethnic resistance organizations (EROs), expanded the conflict from border regions into the heart of the country. Thousands joined local defense groups and ethnic resistance organizations, driven by a shared conviction that freedom was worth any price. For the first time since 1962, the military faces widespread resistance and has lost significant territorial control, relying largely on air power to maintain its grip.

Before the 2021 coup, armed conflict in Myanmar was largely driven by whether ethnic resistance organizations had signed the 2015 Nationwide Ceasefire Agreement, with most violence occurring between non-signatory groups and the military in borderland ethnic states.

For many youth, the coup was more than a political event; it was a personal breaking point.

Khu Shar Reh, president of the Karenni Nationality Youth Organization, said: “This coup shattered our freedom, our fairness, and our right to determine our own lives. We may still breathe, but we live imprisoned; mentally and emotionally. To speak plainly, they have taken away our present and our future.”

Across the country, that loss of freedom became the fire that fueled resistance. What began as despair evolved into a nationwide demand for freedom, justice and self-determination.

In February 2024, Myanmar’s military reactivated the long-dormant 2010 People’s Military Conscription Law, mandating service of up to two years for men aged 18–35 and women aged 18–27, with extended age ceilings and terms for professionals. Evasion is punishable by imprisonment, and rights groups cite cases of forced recruitment, arrests, and device inspections. As of 2025, roughly one in four Myanmar citizens is youth (ages 10–24), making them the principal target of conscription.

Youth have been the driving force of Myanmar’s post-coup revolution, serving as organizers, medics, and fighters while sacrificing their education and safety, often at great personal cost. Their determination and sacrifice remain an indispensable contribution to the struggle for democracy. For many, this struggle is personal. As Tha Eh Soe, spokesperson of the Karenni Nationalities Defense Force, reflected: “We, the Karenni youth, are carrying the heaviest burden. We’re on the frontlines, leading defenses, forming groups, even raising funds. Since the coup in 2021, more than a thousand of us have been killed, but we keep going. Most of us can’t continue school - survival comes first.”

In April 2021, ousted lawmakers and ethnic leaders formed the National Unity Government (NUG) as a democratic alternative to military rule, launching a nationwide defensive war in Sep 2021, and pursuing federal democracy, equality and self-determination, as declared in the 2021 Federal Democracy Charter.

In Karenni State, Karenni leaders created the Karenni State Consultative Council (KSCC) to pull political, civil, and armed actors into one front on 9 April 2021. Within months, local People’s Defense Forces coalesced as the Karenni Nationalities Defense Force (KNDF) and fought alongside the Karenni Army (KA). In mid-2023, the Karenni National People’s Liberation Front (KNPLF), long folded into the junta’s Border Guard Force, broke away and rejoined the resistance. In June 2023, the Interim Executive Council (IEC) was established to govern liberated areas and lay the groundwork for a bottom-up federal democracy, while senior KNDF commanders publicly urged all Karenni forces to unify into “a single, unified United Karenni State Army” to defeat the junta in early October 2025.

“Our work now focuses on rebuilding institutions and restoring local governance. Our vision is simple – to build from the bottom up federalism, to let people take part in their own governance, and to bring back services and power to their communities," said Khu Plu Reh, general secretary of the Interim Executive Council (Karenni).

Nationwide Internet Blackout

On February 1, 2021, the military seized power, plunging Internet connectivity to 50 percent by sunrise and just 16 percent within hours. On February 6, a 30-hour nationwide shutdown, the longest since 2007, was followed by nightly curfews from February to April. The junta imposed at least 15 Internet shutdowns in 2021, including a nationwide blackout that lasted nearly two and a half months. Social media platforms and even independent news sites like Wikipedia vanished behind firewalls. The blackout stripped millions of people of safety and voice, erasing their ability to speak, learn, organize and report warnings such as air strikes , and extrajudicial killings and arrests, including of children.

Beyond statistics, the blackout reshaped daily life, especially for young people who had come of age online.

“The shutdown has hit young people the hardest, those who grew up with the Internet and phones as part of daily life. In today’s digital age, education and opportunity depend on connectivity. While the rest of the world advances with AI and innovation, we are still struggling to find even a single signal just to warn each other, to learn, to build our future, and to rebuild our communities," said Khu Shar Reh, president of the Karenni Nationality Youth Organization.

Freedom House described it as, “the largest decline ever recorded in freedom on the net." These blackouts were deliberate, aimed at cutting connections, silencing communities, and weakening resistance. By early 2025, Myanmar had 33.4 million Internet users , yet access remains weaponized, with 85 shutdowns in 2024 alone placing it among the world’s most repressive digital regimes, surpassing India (84) and Pakistan (21) in 2024. A local journalist described near-impossible working conditions:

“This Internet blackout creates significant difficulties, especially for my work as a journalist," said Saw Eh Kha Nyaw, field reporter and journalist, Kantarawaddy Times. "Contacting news sources is equally difficult. For breaking news, like an airstrike, we need to make urgent calls for confirmation, but we simply can't. Sending information to our news agency is another major challenge. Large files, like videos, take a very long time to upload. Sometimes it takes half a day or even an entire day.”

For educators, these blackouts did not just silence communication; they severely disrupted teaching itself.

“The internet is vital for education in today's digital age," said Chris, teacher and school administrator, Karenni State. "It allows teachers to enrich lessons with visuals, videos, and songs, and to access the latest information. Without it, classes become less engaging and harder to grasp, while both students and teachers lose opportunities to continue learning and growing."

By Oct 2025, shutdowns had surged to 411, with Saigon, Magway and Kachin facing most shutdowns. In April alone, phone and Internet lines were cut in 138 townships, with Kachin, Karenni, Chin, Rakhine, and Mandalay facing near-total blackouts.

As shutdowns spread nationwide, they have not only cut communication but also strained people’s mental health.

“Our state is under intense military tension, and we urgently need access to information about the situation," said Maw Thae Myar, entrepreneur, Demoso, Karenni State. "The biggest impact is the loss of communication; we can’t reach friends or family or receive critical updates in time. At times, we’re even denied the basic right to know our loved ones’ condition. This isolation has left many struggling with deep anxiety and depression.”

In conflict zones, cutting communication is as devastating as cutting food or medicine. Khu Plue Reh, general secretary of the Interim Executive Council (IEC), described the impact plainly: “Communication is one of our biggest challenges. During a blackout, we have to send people by motorbike or on foot to deliver warnings to some areas. Sometimes it’s too late. In one incident, a message about an incoming attack reached a day late, and two people were killed. We still don’t have a system that can reach every civilian in time.

"We also lack the ability to warn schools in time…Many people must walk miles, sometimes even cross mountains, just to reach a connection point. During heavy rain or difficult terrain, some choose to go only occasionally to stay informed, spending most days to a week completely cut off.

"In several heartbreaking cases, schools and nearby villages received no warning for days and were bombed while still open.”

Digital infrastructure, market, and political economy

Myanmar’s national telecom backbone is built upon a dual framework of submarine and terrestrial fiber-optic networks, linking to regional and global systems through major submarine cables such as SEA-ME-WE 3, SEA-ME-WE 5, AAE-1, MIST, and UMO, with two landing stations at Pyapon and Ngwe Saung, while terrestrial corridors extend fiber routes across borders with China, India, Thailand, Laos, and Bangladesh. As of October 2025, Myanmar has three active Internet Exchange Points (IXPs) located in Yangon, Mandalay, and Tachileik, a border city in Shan State near Thailand, with additional Points of Presence (POPs) in Naypyitaw to expand local traffic exchange. The Tachileik IXP project was initiated in 2024 under the APNIC Foundation, funded by APIDT and was officially launched in August 2025. Myanmar’s digital infrastructure remains limited, with five data centers operating primarily around two major cities - four in Yangon and one in Mandalay.

By early 2025, Myanmar had 33.4 million Internet users at a 61.1 percent penetration rate, up 38.53 percent from the previous year’s 24.11 million in early 2024. Despite claiming 96.7 percent 4G coverage, service quality remains uneven: urban centers benefit from dense fiber connectivity and pilot 5G, while rural areas rely on diesel-powered towers that are prone to outages and rising fuel costs. As of 2025, 69 percent of Myanmar’s population remains rural, where infrastructure continues to lag behind urban hubs like Yangon and Mandalay, according to 2024 census data. In conflict-affected and rural areas like Karenni, connectivity gaps translate directly into hardship.

As Maw Thae Myar explained: “Transportation is our biggest challenge. It’s dangerous, and routes are often blocked. In this era, the internet is essential for communication, but with it cut off, it is much harder to coordinate safety, transport, or check market prices. It has disrupted trade across every sector and put our lives at risk.“

Since the 2021 coup, Myanmar’s telecommunications sector has been effectively subordinated to military control: all major operators either were already military-linked (MPT, Mytel) or have since been transferred to junta-affiliated entities (ATOM, U9). The market continues to be dominated by these four companies, with total telecom service revenue estimated at $1.81 billion in 2024 and forecasted to reach $2.03 billion by 2030, though strategic oversight, surveillance, and governance remain centralized under the junta’s apparatus. While operators diversify into fiber infrastructure and value-added services, their autonomy is constrained by requirements to install intercept systems and comply with state demands for user data access.

Despite early digital expansion, Myanmar’s telecom sector has suffered a contraction since the coup, as political instability, sanctions, and international divestments cripple investor confidence. Foreign direct investment in Myanmar collapsed after the 2021 coup, plunging from $3.8 billion in 2020 to just $150–$177 million by early 2024 – a decline of over 90 percent. Since the 2021 coup, foreign telecom operators have withdrawn from Myanmar amid regime pressure and human rights concerns. Telenor sold its unit to a joint venture between M1 Group and the military-linked Shwe Byain Phyu, rebranding as ATOM in June 2022, while Ooredoo divested to Singapore-based Nine Communications, rebranding as U9 in September 2025. Rights groups warn these takeovers would tighten the junta’s control over user data and communications.

Surveillance and Silence

Since the coup, this centralized system, once designed to enable connectivity, has been exploited by the junta for censorship and shutdowns, turning an infrastructure built for connection into a tool of suppression.

From February 2022 to October 2024, authorities have arrested 1,840 people (657 women) not for acts of violence, but for online dissent, such as posting criticism, sharing anti-junta views, or using encrypted or anonymizing tools to communicate securely. On January 1, 2025, Myanmar’s military junta enacted Cybersecurity Law No. 1/2025, which bans the offering or use of VPNs without approval, compels digital service providers to retain user data for up to three years, and gives authorities sweeping powers to censor or shut down content considered “disinformation,” “rumors,” or otherwise harmful to state security and social stability, including anyone found having read, stored or shared banned articles. Across Myanmar, regime now conducts street patrols, stopping civilians and demanding to inspect their phones for VPNs or social media content. Even the mere presence of a VPN app can trigger interrogation, fines, or arrest. In Myanmar, the phone in your pocket can become a weapon against you.

For millions of people in Myanmar, surveillance is not abstract — it’s personal.

“Before reaching a liberated area, I personally had my phone inspected by them - a clear violation of privacy and basic human rights…If any revolutionary-related information is found on your phone, you risk arrest and prosecution," said Ye Min Aung, Information and Cybersecurity officer | Karenni Nationalities Defense Force

Ye Min Aung, information and cybersecurity officer with the Karenni Nationalities Defense Force, said: “Before reaching a liberated area, I personally had my phone inspected by them - a clear violation of privacy and basic human rights. If any revolutionary-related information is found on your phone, you risk arrest and prosecution.”

Such inspections have become routine, enforcing a climate of fear and self-censorship.

“Their surveillance systems track and monitor everything we do online when using their networks, making us feel constantly unsafe," said Khu Shar Reh, president, Karenni Nationality Youth Organization

Myanmar’s junta has strengthened repression through biometric surveillance via a regime-deployed “Person Scrutinization and Monitoring System” (PSMS), which links CCTV networks, AI facial-recognition, biometric identity databases, and automated alerts to identify and detain perceived dissidents in real time. In addition, Myanmar’s junta has mandated SIM card re-registration with official IDs and advanced a biometric e-ID system linking facial recognition and fingerprints to national databases, expanding state surveillance capacity.

For journalists, this control translates into life-threatening risks in the field. Saw Eh Kha Nyaw said: “My specific concern for the news media is safety. We have to travel through areas controlled by armed groups to gather news, and our security is very weak. Often, we have to avoid writing negatively about any side for fear of retaliation.”

The regime is also implementing surveillance and censorship technologies such as a Chinese-supplied version of the “Great Firewall” via Geedge Networks, enabling deep packet inspection, traffic filtering, real-time location tracking, and individual-level monitoring in collaboration with domestic ISPs and telcos, and allowing unrestricted oversight of the online activities of 33.4 million Myanmar users.

Despite severe digital repression, resistance endures. Civil society coalitions, grassroots networks, technologists, lawyers, and international allies continue to campaign for the repeal of draconian cyber laws, the restoration of individual privacy, and recognition of internet access as a basic human right.

In conflict zones across Myanmar, the digital divide is extreme: junta-imposed shutdowns sever entire communities, and Starlink satellite links have become a rare lifeline to keep people connected.

For civilians in Karenni, war is no longer an event; it is a daily condition. “There are deaths almost daily, and our people are forced to live in fear. We face shelling from the military council, using artillery, heavy weapons, tanks, and airstrikes, on an almost daily basis. We hear these sounds so often, endlessly, that people are no longer afraid," said Saw Eh Kha Nyaw of the Kantarawaddy Times.

Since the coup, at least 7,300 civilians have been killed, more than 29,000 arrested, over 3.5 million displaced, and roughly 20 million people now need humanitarian aid, including 6.3 million children and over 7 million women. The Myanmar junta has intensified its “scorched earth” campaign against civilians amid growing armed resistance and territorial losses. Between the February 1, 2021 coup and December 2024, 112,485 homes were burned across the country; 108,645 of them deliberately set ablaze by junta forces and their affiliates.

Indiscriminate airstrikes have been the leading cause of civilian deaths; by October 2024, the regime carried out 7,186 junta airstrikes, many hitting schools, hospitals, churches, and IDP camps. In the last six months of 2024, the Military Council conducted more than 2,100 airstrikes across 12 regions and states. Just hours after the devastating 2025 Myanmar earthquake, the military junta launched 92 airstrikes and artillery attacks on quake-affected regions, killing 72 civilians and further deepening the suffering while obstructing relief efforts. Between January and May 2025, Armed Conflict Location and Event Data (ACLED) recorded 1,134 junta airstrikes, up from 640 in the same period of 2024 and 197 in 2023, signaling a steep year-on-year escalation. The second half of 2025 looked set to be the deadliest period yet.

Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch warn that the Myanmar military’s systematic air and ground attacks against civilians may constitute war crimes and crimes against humanity. Myanmar’s junta uses airstrikes as “Four Cuts” counterinsurgency to terrorize and collectively punish communities deemed pro-resistance by destroying civilian life and infrastructure. The targeting of medical facilities has deadly consequences for frontline medics.

Dr. Ye Zaw, who provides care in Karenni State, describes the impossible choices they face. Dr. Zaw said: “Without a reliable communication system, healthcare workers can't get advance notice of injured civilians or soldiers or know the scale of battles and airstrikes. This leaves doctors unprepared for mass casualty events, leading to more casualties.

"When a patient is dying during an air raid, doctors are forced to choose between saving a life and saving their own."

Yet even under relentless attack and disconnection, medical teams continue to rebuild what’s been destroyed.

Dr. Zaw said: “Our greatest strength lies in our young healthcare workers who, with support from the public and volunteers, have stepped into unfamiliar roles, such as management, logistics, even finance, to build a new health system from the ground up. When we feel discouraged, we remember the comrades and civilians who died in our care, and the promise we made to them: to keep fighting until the dictatorship ends. These commitments keep us going.”

Since the 2021 coup, the Karenni has been among the hardest hit by junta airstrikes, causing mass displacement, with over 80 percent forced from their homes and now sheltering in more than 325 makeshift sites and 93 IDP camps (internally displaced person) across Karenni State and along the Karenni–Shan border. In 2024 alone, the junta executed at least 36 airstrikes and drone attacks against civilian targets in Karenni, including schools, IDP camps, and religious sites, while also deploying artillery against noncombatants.

One particularly deadly strike occurred on August 17, 2025, when junta aircraft struck the village of Mawchi in Hpasawng Township, killing at least 32 people including children in a resistance-held area. A hospital and staff housing were reduced to rubble. Local monitors reported Mawchi endured at least eight separate airstrikes in 2025 alone.

Yet amid constant bombardment, young people have become not just survivors but strategists. “Despite everything, the youth are not just fighting; they’re planning and organizing," said Tha Eh Soe, spokesperson for the Karenni Nationalities Defense Force. "They work with local communities to prepare defenses against airstrikes, artillery, drones, and ground attacks. They emphasize the need for warning systems, detection technology, and bunkers, because nowhere in Karenni is safe from the military’s long-range weapons and airstrikes."

The destruction in Karenni underscores not only the brutality of Myanmar’s war from above but also the urgent need to build resilient communication networks for dignity and survival. As one field technician put it, “having Internet or information is life and death… without it… you can’t run from an airstrike."

Neineh Plo, coordinator for the coordination team for Emergency Relief (Karenni), stressed the urgency of improving basic connectivity and early-warning systems to save lives: “The most urgent step is to stop the flow of jet fuel, as airstrikes are Myanmar’s deadliest attacks. An effective arms embargo is also critical to block weapons, resources, and technology from reaching the military. On the ground, civilians are building bunkers, training for survival, and setting up early warning systems with limited capacity. They need international support—funding, resources, knowledge, and backing for transitional governance and resilient connectivity solutions.

"Without a secure 24/7 network, civilians face airstrikes, drones, and artillery without warning. International advocacy is crucial, not only to enforce embargoes and accountability, but also to build safe, reliable communication that protects and sustains our people. ”

Beyond physical survival, the invisible wounds of war run deep.

“People live under constant psychological trauma, making mental health support urgent,” Plo said. Connectivity is no longer optional - it is survival infrastructure.

Digital Darkness and Connectivity Emergence

Across Myanmar, especially in Kachin and Karenni State, connectivity is routinely cut in resistance-held areas, with reports of full phone and internet blackouts in townships like Loikaw, Demoso, Hpruso, Mese, and Loilen Lay, and wider April-2025 outages affecting nearly all townships in Karenni, Kachin, Chin, Rakhine, and Mandalay. In blackout zones, people depend on smuggled Starlink terminals from makeshift “Starlink cafés” in Karenni to discreet neighborhood hotspots across central Myanmar, though access remains scarce and prohibitively expensive, 1000 average per hours or 0.25 USD per hour, unaffordable for most. For most, even a brief connection comes at a steep price.

“The price varies by location, sometimes 1,000 (~$0.25 USD) or 2,000 Kyat, but often 3,000 per hour. In remote areas with difficult travel, it can cost as much as 5,000 Myanmar Kyat or $1.25 per hour," said Saw Eh Kha Nyaw, of the Kantarawaddy Times

Still, across Myanmar, thousands of Starlink units are now operating in field hospitals, humanitarian hubs, and private homes, but using them often entails serious personal risk under the junta’s ban. (VOA, Nov 2024) Despite the risks, these fragile satellite links have enabled remote emergency surgery consultation to save lives (VOA, Nov 2024), pushed real-time airstrike alerts that let villagers evacuate, coordinated cross-border aid (food, medicine, evacuations), and even kept classes going from hilltop schools in Karenni with a few hours of Starlink each day to ad-hoc hotspots in blackout zones. (Mizzima, Aug 2025) Hence, in many isolated communities, Starlink remains the only reliable link to communication, safety alerts, and education, making broad restrictions on starlink both counterproductive and life-threatening.

At the same time, these satellite links can be detected, disrupted and jammed, and rights groups warn of surveillance and crackdown risks, including equipment confiscations and threat of arrest. Even so, they persist because in moments of airstrikes or forced displacement, the difference between silence and survival often comes down to a single signal.

Because Starlink is unlicensed, scarce, and often unreliable under crackdown, resistance authorities have fallen back on analog comms, such as Telegraph, HF/VHF radio, community “pirate”/public-service radio, runners, and in-person coordination, for their resilience, cost, and lower traceability. Yet these tools are not widely available to civilians, leaving most of the population still disconnected.

Khu Daniel, minister of defense in the Karenni government, said: “Despite advances in communication technology, we still rely on telegraphs, HF radios, and walkie-talkies because they offer greater affordability, security and reliability. Even though those traditional tools serve as a back up system, we still cannot reach everyone.

"What’s urgently needed are affordable, reliable communication tools, along with proper training in usage, safety, and leadership, so communities can effectively gather and share information to stay connected and safe."

From blackout to breakthrough – building Karenni’s digital future

For the people of Karenni, connection is no longer a luxury - it is the line between life and death, despair and dignity. In a country where silence has become a weapon, every signal carries the weight of survival.

What they need now are tools that are fast to deploy, resilient under fire, and safe from surveillance, such as solar-powered Wi-Fi hubs, secure bunkers, early-warning networks, and offline communication systems that can sync when the internet returns. These are not luxuries; they are the essentials of survival.

Khu Plu Reh, the general secretary of the Interim Executive Council (Karenni), said: “ We need technology that allows people to learn and communicate offline…more resilient communication for early warnings…secure data and ID systems to protect civilians… digital tools to gather the voices of people across nearly 500 IDP sites in building a truly bottom-up governance, so no community is left behind.”

But survival alone is not enough. From the ashes of blackout, a generation of Karenni youth are imagining a different kind of future, defined not by fear but by freedom, knowledge, and trust.

Their vision is to move from fragile connections to digital sovereignty: a secure, community-built infrastructure where data is protected by consent and where technology serves people, not power. This vision extends beyond technology; it’s tied to the right to learn, to innovate, and to define their own future.

“For the Karenni people, digital sovereignty is inseparable from political self-determination - it means the right to connectivity, to data, and to the protection of that data," said Maw Day Myar, the general secretary of the Karenni State Consultative Council.

"Youth, long denied access to quality education, are building their own 'DIY learning.' Decades of capacity building have overlooked STEM, leaving resources and expertise nearly nonexistent. We urgently need both short-and long-term plans to develop STEM capacity.”

Education lies at the heart of that sovereignty: the bridge between connection and capacity, as Chris, a local teacher and school administrator, shared from their community’s experience and plea.

They said: "If I could ask the international community for help, the first step would be to listen to the voices on the ground. 'Quality education' differs by region, and hearing local voices is vital. The second step is financial and technological support. Every child has the right to education, and every person the right to lifelong learning - rights that need strong international support for both students and teachers.”

Those dreams are shared by students across Karenni, who see education as both a refuge and a future.

Chris said: “For students, their greatest hope is for the war to end so they can study safely, with proper materials and a full curriculum. They’re eager to learn about technology and how schools abroad use it, dreaming of a modern and developed education system, especially in digital learning.”

For Karenni, rebuilding begins with people, systematically investing in knowledge, practical skills, and systems that can outlast war. Each act of learning, teaching, or connecting is a quiet defiance against the forces of erasure. On the ground, this vision is already taking root for Karenni youth rebuilding their futures from the ruins of war.

Khu Plu Reh said: “Most of our youth are fighting, and over a thousand have been disabled. …We’ve started vocational training for handicapped youth and are conducting a census to identify their skills and opportunities…Every level of government, civil societies and public needs digital literacy, not only to be efficient but to stay safe. That’s why we’re focusing on training and capacity building across all sectors.

"We also lack an effective telecommunications and technology department because we do not have technology expertises… our goal is to build e-governance under the new Karenni Governance Framework, but we need help in policy, training, and human capacity development…we’re determined to build a capable team within five years.”

A 19-year-old Karenni soldier, once a high school student who lost his sight in 2022, as well as several fingers, to artillery attack, said: “I may have lost my sight, but my vision is clearer than ever. I’m grateful to have served and ready to serve again in any way I can.”

Beyond connectivity and infrastructure, progress begins with knowledge: the foundation of every democratic society.

Khu Daniel, minister of defense for the Karenni government, said: “Education must be prioritized to help youth gain and apply practical knowledge with determination…Even when online access is lost, offline systems can still be built with strong, locally relevant curricula supported by better training, tools, and resources.

"What we need most are knowledge and sustainable policy. When we talk about “development,” it must begin with education and evidence-based policymaking. Every citizen must have knowledge for dignity, survival, and the progress of a democratic society.

"That’s why our first priority is developing human capacity; people equipped with relevant, real-world skills. Infrastructure matters, and its promise depends on human capacity. Building knowledge and policy grounded in real needs, evidence, and cooperation is something we can begin now, even amid conflict.”

Through programs like the University of California, Berkeley’s Global Digital Infrastructure initiative, Karenni students are turning isolation into a community for connectivity. These efforts mark the beginning of a new form of nation-building, one rooted in knowledge and local capacity rather than imposed control.

“With international guidance and resource mobilization rooted in local realities yet planned for the long term, these grassroots efforts can become real opportunities for strategic knowledge-building and capacity development for the future," said Maw Day Myar, the General Secretary of the Karenni State Consultative Council.

Beyond rebuilding, accountability remains a vital pillar of justice and long-term peace.

Neineh Plo said: “We also need help to build accountability mechanisms so war crimes against humanity can be documented and brought before the International Criminal Court. Local groups are ready with data if given training and resources."

Justice and accountability are not just internal struggles; they depend on the choices of the international community.

“Our message to ASEAN, Europe, and the wider international community is clear: as long as they continue to recognize or support the military junta and General Min Aung Hlaing, Myanmar’s decades-long war will persist," said Khu Daniel.

"The entire public rejected the coup and protested nationwide. ASEAN and the international community must stand with the people and the truth, not tyranny.”

Karenni’s struggle is not isolated. From Gaza to Sudan, conflict zones around the world face the same reality: silence as a weapon. Families cut off from safety, doctors from patients, students from learning, sharing the same urgent need: connection. That is why Karenni extends this call beyond our borders to technologists, policymakers, educators, and humanitarians everywhere. The fight for digital rights is the fight for human rights. Secure connectivity, open access, and STEM education are the front lines of modern freedom.

Karenni is ready to learn, to co-create, and to serve. What we build together can reconnect our people and stand as a model for other conflict zones worldwide.

No signals. No safety. No dreams. Together, we can change that.

Find out more about the Global Digital Infrastructure Certificate here.