(Anthony Davis’s article from the Asia Times on October 19, 2021.)
Myanmar's Tatmadaw is planning a massive offensive
against newly formed people's defense forces.
Sooner or later Myanmar’s military was bound to wheel out the big guns.
Since March, when peaceful protest against the February 1 coup turned to armed
resistance, the generals in Naypyidaw have watched too much go too wrong in too
many places for too long.
In the nation’s ethnic Bamar heartland so-called “people’s defense forces” (PDFs) have proliferated to challenge military authority; from the borders of China and Thailand ethnic armies have extended them sanctuary, training, and weapons; and in strategically vital regions of Myanmar’s west and east bomb blasts and killings have escalated into full-blown insurgency.
Against this
backdrop, a September 7 declaration of a “people’s defensive war” by an
opposition shadow administration, the National Unity Government (NUG), merely
acted as a brazen accelerant to a spreading fire.
Time to spread
out the maps in army headquarters for Operation Anawrahta, the Tatmadaw’s first
full-bore campaign to restoring a semblance of order in a nation veering ever
closer to – depending on your perspective – anarchic disintegration or a social
revolution to break the military’s decades-long stranglehold on Myanmar’s
national life.
Operation Anawrahta
The scale and
geographical breadth of the impending campaign is striking, indeed arguably
unprecedented even in the annals of an army that has been fighting non-stop since
Independence in 1948.
In contrast to annual forays launched against
troublesome ethnic minorities in the nation’s rugged borderlands or earlier
sweeps against pockets of communist insurrection in the Irrawaddy Delta and
Bago Yoma hills, Operation Anawrahta reflects both a different dynamic and far
higher stakes: for the first time the Tatmadaw is seeking to reassert a
strategic dominance long taken for granted but which week by week through
mid-2021 has been slipping away, most alarmingly in the west.
Almost certainly
not by coincidence, the impending big push has been named in honor the
warrior-founder of the Burmese nation who ascended the throne of Pagan in 1014
and unified a state around the very same Irrawaddy valley heartland now in
turmoil.
Opening in
earnest in late October or early November as soon as monsoon-soaked ground has
dried out, Operation Anawrahta will almost certainly not be launched as a D-Day
exercise in “shock and awe.”
Playing to the
army’s strengths and allowing for flexible redeployments of troops, a more
likely course of action is a rolling series of separate but interlocking
offensives that will extend into the New Year and the scorching heat of central
Myanmar’s dry season.
Preparations for
an extended campaign have been under way since at least September. With little
fanfare, infantry battalions, mechanized units, artillery pieces and armored
vehicles have been readied in forward operating bases – Pakokku, Monywa and
Kalay – across a wide and strategically critical arc of western Myanmar that
lies between ethnic insurgent strongholds in Kachin state in the north and
Rakhine state on the Bay of Bengal in the southwest.
Beginning in
September, an ominous shut-down of internet connections and occasionally even
phone lines has been imposed across some 25 western townships in the army’s
cross-hairs. A measure tested for months during hostilities in Rakhine state in
2019 and 2020, the communications black-out will both complicate coordination
of PDF counterattacks and pre-empt social and mainstream media reporting of the
excesses that typically accompany Tatmadaw operations.
Planning has undoubtedly been driven into higher
gear following the abrupt departure of the Sagaing-based Northwestern regional
commander Brigadier General Phyo Thant. Detained in early October amid rumors
of disloyalty and after presiding over daily humiliations of the military by
ill-armed PDF fighters, the disgraced commander reportedly remains under house
arrest.
Replacing him
are two more senior generals, both noted hardliners, who from Naypyidaw and
Sagaing will ensure close oversight of the campaign and the performance of its
field commanders.
One is
Lieutenant General Than Hlaing, deputy interior minister and head of Myanmar’s
increasingly militarized police force; the other, Lieutenant General Tayza
Kyaw, is head of Bureau of Special Operations No 1, which coordinates
operations involving regional commands across the north of the country.
Tatmadaw ‘elite’
The number of
forces at the disposal of the two generals and their staff is difficult to
gauge and almost certain to vary depending on tactical requirements.
But based on the
number of centrally and regionally commanded formations already deployed into
the western theater – historically a military backwater with virtually no
insurgent activity – a reasonable estimate would suggest a build-up of some
30,000 troops from a Tatmadaw base-line infantry combat strength that is
unlikely to number much more than 100,000 -120,000 men.
Predictably, a
significant proportion of Naypyidaw’s praetorian force of ten centrally
commanded Light Infantry Divisions (LIDs) will be at the sharp end of
offensives. Already four divisions (or substantial elements of them) have been
deployed into the western theater.
Often described
in western media as “elite” units, LIDs play a role on the battlefields of
Myanmar that is a long way from that of highly trained and well-equipped
special forces such as Britain’s Special Air Service (SAS) or Russia’s
Spetsnaz, typically associated with term “elite” in advanced militaries.
Divided into
mobile Tactical Operations Commands (TOCs) of three battalions with attached
artillery and access to close air support when required, LIDs are essentially
assault troops, once invariably infantrymen, today increasingly mechanized.
They constitute a cohesive, experienced, ruthless and, not least, unswervingly
loyal army-within-an-army. Think Saddam Hussein’s Republican Guard – only
“lite.”
Those qualities
and the esprit de corps that goes with them set the LIDs sharply apart from
line battalions commanded by the army’s Regional Military Commands (RMCs),
troops whose training, discipline, and morale typically leave much to be
desired. In the coming months, those liabilities will inevitably face growing
strains.
In addition to
army troops, the coming campaign will also rely importantly on air force
helicopters and ground attack jets, naval riverine patrol vessels and landing
craft. On paper at least, it will unfold as a series of combined-arms
operations of the sort practiced by the Tatmadaw in carefully choreographed
bi-annual exercises played out amid a saturation media coverage on the army
training grounds outside the central city of Meiktila.
Only now the
geography will be far more varied and dauntingly wider. Over the coming weeks
and months, offensives will target PDFs in four more or less distinct
operational theaters.
Zones of operation
Arguably the two
most important are northern Chin state and northeast Sagaing Region, both zones
where long-standing ethnic armed groups have been willing to extend training,
weapons and operational support to newly emerging and increasingly aggressive
PDFs.
Not by
coincidence, in recent weeks locations in both areas have been targeted by
airstrikes as Tatmadaw ground forces have struggled to deal with resistance
attacks.
In north Chin
the Chin National Army (CNA), while small and militarily inactive in recent
years, has retained a core of trained personnel and been willing to open its
Camp Victoria headquarters in Thantlang township on the Indian border to
hundreds of PDF volunteers. It is also likely that the CNA has cross-border
connections that facilitate the smuggling of munitions from the Indian states
of Mizoram and Manipur.
PDFs in
northeast Sagaing, meanwhile, have benefitted from supplies from, and joint
operations with units of the 9th Brigade of the Kachin Independence Army (KIA).
Moving south from Mohnyin in Kachin state via Indaw and Katha these forces have
infiltrated the neighboring Bamar-inhabited townships of Pinlebu, Wuntho,
Kawlin and Tigyaing, providing local PDFs material and psychological
support.
Two other areas
likely to see major operations in the coming month are north Magway Region and
adjacent south Sagaing, both of which have emerged since mid-year as zones of
persistent PDF activity and already been repeatedly targeted – to little
obvious effect – by Tatmadaw and police raiding parties.
In north Magway,
the Tatmadaw’s forward operating base will be the garrison town of Pakokku on
the Irrawaddy River, a major military cantonment and home of the 101st LID.
Beyond the township of Pauk where PDF attacks have been common, the main target
is likely to be three adjacent townships of Gangaw, Tilin and Saw that share
the Yaw dialect of Burmese and have established a single Yaw Defense Force
(YDF).
Worryingly for
army planners, the Bamar YDF has already established ties with the ethnic Chin
Chinland Defense Force (CDF) in the Mindat- Kanpetlet area just across the Chin
state border.
Geographically
contiguous to north Magway, south Sagaing comprises a wide swath of farming
country spread along the valley of the Chindwin River, which flows from the
Indian border to its confluence with the Irrawaddy.
A long-time
bastion of Aung San Suu Kyi’s Nation League for Democracy, the region is
largely open terrain conducive to rapid security force movements, a factor
which appears to have inhibited both the formation of larger PDFs and effective
collaboration across township boundaries.
Even so, PDFs in
several townships, most notably Mingin, Kani and Pale, have mounted often
aggressive resistance and can expect to be hit hard.
Clearance operations
The scope and
shape of offensives will be conditioned by terrain and assessments of
opposition, but will probably hinge mostly on major “clearance operations.”
Typically involving infantry backed by armored units, these sweeps will be
aimed primarily at flushing out centers of PDF resistance, pinning them down
and then bringing to bear superior firepower.
Among the few
easily identified static targets will be the CNA’s Camp Victoria, an important
training facility and organizational hub.
But situated as
it is on the Indian border, any attempt to overrun the base will risk artillery
shells and airstrikes, not to mention thousands of refugees, spilling into
Indian territory potentially antagonizing a neighbor who to date has been
generally sympathetic to the coup regime and its efforts to “stabilize” the
country.
Unavoidably,
“clearance operations” will involve sweeps through villages searching for arms
caches and PDF supporters with civilians being either rounded up for
interrogation or driven into nearby countryside. This scenario will repeat on a
far larger and more systematic scale the raids on villages that have already
played out in Magway and Sagaing and on more than one occasion been accompanied
by reports of summary massacres.
Far less easy to
predict is the extent to which PDFs will attempt to resist these offensives or
will succeed in avoiding major confrontations with advancing Tatmadaw forces to
reemerge later to conduct guerrilla attacks on exposed communication and supply
lines.
Lack of
experience and leadership may encourage quixotic and costly resistance,
particularly in situations where civilians and families are at immediate risk.
Complicating a militarily smarter guerrilla response will be a serious shortage
of support weaponry, in particular machine guns, rocket-propelled grenades and
mortars.
The likelihood
is that both reactions will be in evidence in different situations to produce a
confused and bloody melee largely cut off from communications with the outside
world.
None of that,
however, will mitigate the Tatmadaw’s fundamental dilemma: a shortage of
manpower that, once the heavy firing dies down, will impose real strains on the
army’s ability to control conquered territory and permit resistance forces to
recover, regroup and hit back.
This perennial
conundrum of counterinsurgency typically drives two very different responses,
and in western Myanmar in the coming months it is again likely that a confused
mixture of both will emerge from the smoke of conflict.
One reaction may
see the Tatmadaw attempting to maintain a spread of forces across village
tracts where in certain townships PDFs have been notably active. But the
dispersal of forces required for a counterinsurgency grid dominating rural
hinterlands will leave outposts and supply transport vulnerable to the sort of
daily harassment using IEDs that between July and September already cost
hundreds of security force casualties.
Four cuts and three all’s
The alternative
would be for the military to revert to more drastic measures: depopulating
entire rebel-leaning villages.
There was an era
when the strategy of relocating rural populations into defensible settlements
and severing links between civilians and rebels had a place in Tatmadaw
counterinsurgency manuals.
Known in Myanmar
as the “four cuts”, the theory was introduced in the 1960s by Western military
advisors – most notably Colonel Ted Serong of the Australian Army — and drew on
Cold War counterinsurgency practice in Malaya and later South Vietnam.
The method aimed
at cutting off insurgents from the four essentials of food, funding, recruits
and intelligence, while bringing the benefits of enlightened governance to a
relocated rural population securely wired off from communist subversion.
In colonial
Malaya of the 1950s, the resettlement of communist-leaning Chinese squatter
populations known as the “New Village program” was a broad success – at least for
the British military. The attempt to replicate it in the very different social
and political context of Ngo Dinh Diem’s South Vietnam was a spectacular
failure.
In Burma of the
1960s, a lack of resources meant the “four cuts” as an element of the anti-communist
campaign was never prioritized sufficiently to be strategically relevant.
Before long it was also pushed aside by a far blunter and essentially Burmese
approach to counterinsurgency, particularly as practiced by the Tatmadaw’s
Bamar soldiery in remote border regions inhabited by what many of them saw as
culturally “inferior” ethnic minorities.
This was a brand
of counterinsurgency that had nothing to do with Western theories underpinning
the “four cuts” but much in common with the “three all’s” of the Japanese
Imperial Army in China of the 1940s – burn all, kill all, loot all. And in the Myanmar context, scorched earth
methods could be usefully supplemented by driving hundreds of thousands across
international borders into Thailand, China, Bangladesh and now India.
As smoke already
rising from villages across western Myanmar clearly illustrates, even in ethnic
Bamar regions Tatmadaw operational practice continues to draw heavily on the
“three all’s”, leaving the “four cuts” mainly to the realm of loose media
commentary.
And in the
coming months, the rural populations fleeing from more burning villages will
almost certainly not benefit from either “new villages” or even “strategic
hamlets”: the Tatmadaw has neither the resources nor the mentality to “manage”
counterinsurgency.
Collateral damage
The result will
probably be a mushrooming of squalid refugee camps in township and regional
centers that will both serve as new hearths of resistance and exacerbate a
humanitarian disaster the military’s State Administration Council is already
incapable of addressing.
It is doubtful
whether those planning Operation Anawrahta have given much thought to the
collateral damage their offensives will cause and the multiplier effect that
this will have on popular resistance. At one level, they have never needed to
in the past; at another, they have already turned their backs on alternative
options.
But perhaps an
even more important element of collateral damage in the months to come will be
the impact on army rank-and-file and junior officers as they contemplate what
their commanders have led them to inflict on their own countrymen.
In the short
term, the Tatmadaw ethos of iron discipline will serve to insulate the soldiers
from their actions. But as weeks turn to months and the civilian body-count
mounts, corrosive demoralization among many of their own forces may prove a far
greater threat to the generals in Naypyidaw than the meager military
capabilities of the resistance they are now gearing up to crush.
Please, someone kill the bastard before 2021 is over. |