Solidarity Scholarship and Research Methodology

The research for this paper utilises what Burawoy (Reference Burawoy2009) refers to as “the extended case method” for data collection and analysis. This method involves ethnographic approaches over many years, such as institutional embeddedness and participant observation. Such an approach values reflexivity and contextualisation over detached, positivist approaches to data collection. The value of such an approach is that, through observation, a “focus on meaning and context enhances our analyses of political communication and power” (Wedeen Reference Wedeen2010: 258), which complements other research tools such as interviews. The research favours an interpretive lens that views knowledge as embedded in power relations, while viewing “ideas, beliefs, values, ‘preferences’, and decisions as always embedded in a social world” (Wedeen 2020: 260). By foregrounding ideological contestation, this paper seeks to look beyond the mechanics of subaltern resistance to examine how it can “negotiate power relations from below in order to rework them in a more favourable or emancipatory direction” (Chandra Reference Chandra2015: 565).

Building upon the above ethnographic sensibilities, the authors also introduce the concept of ‘solidarity scholarship’ as a distinct research approach. This is informed by what is known as activism scholarship, which has been defined as “rigorous and intellectually honest writing that tackles research questions with the intention to advance an activist agenda” (Green and Baird Reference Green and Baird2020: 2). Solidarity scholarship, however, goes beyond writing to involve explicit involvement in and support for the resistance that is at the centre of enquiry. This involves what Milne (Reference Milne2022) refers to as an “insider” perspective, where researchers are actively involved in the activism they are researching. For Milne, the insider perspective ensured a comprehensive and nuanced understanding of how international conservation was co-opted to align with the interests of elites in Cambodia. Such a position facilitates an analysis of how power and relationships are contested, including how agency is asserted, which is a key theme throughout this paper, particularly in relation to the dynamics between civil society and international aid actors. In the context of Myanmar, Doi Ra (Reference Doi2024) also emphasises the importance of linking with and contributing to emancipatory movements and politics. Rather than being just a utilitarian analytical tool, solidarity scholarship is an epistemological belief in the importance of solidarity for making sense of subaltern resistance. Such an approach also seeks to overcome the bifurcation between academia and practice. For both authors, this involves nearly two decades of active participation in challenging systemic injustices, much of which is related to Myanmar.

The authors’ solidarity scholarship draws upon one author’s participation in the protest and resistance movement for Myitsone, alongside both authors’ wide-ranging pro bono collaboration with and support for civil society actors in Myanmar. These acts are not driven by academic imperative; rather, they reflect commitment and solidarity with the people challenging exploitation and oppression in Myanmar. Indeed, most of these years of solidarity preceded both authors’ academic pursuits. They are also complemented by years of paid employment with local and international organisations focused on supporting civil society, from individual activists to grassroots networks to larger national organisations. Consequently, the authors synthesise both insider and outsider perspectives in relation to international aid practices and civil society activism.

Aside from the above, the research for this paper involved 30 key informant interviews, twelve women and eighteen men, selected through snowball sampling. Interviews were conducted between November 2021 and March 2022, primarily through the secure online messaging service, Signal, owing to access restrictions and insecurity following the military coup in February 2021. Interviews were synthesised with each author’s many years of engagement with topics explored in this paper, thus constituting the extended case method. Such engagement was critical for enabling access to interviewees and ensuring a coherent and contextually embedded analysis. Interviewees included community activists, Myanmar civil society workers, journalists, and international aid actors, such as donors, international non-government organisations, and United Nations agencies. All interviews are anonymised, owing to the sensitivities, but basic descriptors are included, such as Kachin activist.

Hydropower Hegemony as an Analytical Lens

This paper utilises the analytical lens of hydropower hegemony to draw attention to the ideological dimensions of contestation associated with water governance in Myanmar. As defined by Barter and Sar (Reference Barter and Sar2023), hydropower hegemony is a comprehensive process of asserting power primarily through ideology, specifically a modernist, materialist logic that asserts dams alleviate poverty by sustainably stimulating economic development. Hydropower hegemony establishes a Gramscian common sense that dams are full of potential and are thus desirable. In Myanmar, it underpins a logic that commodification of the commons is justified for improving aggregate material wellbeing, even if evidence suggests otherwise (see International Rivers 2014). A dominant framing is that hydropower is critical for economic growth and modernisation, which in turn will improve wellbeing (Hensengerth Reference Hensengerth, Suhardiman, Nicol and Mapezda2017). Non-capitalist, ecologically harmonious livelihoods are rendered expendable, not just through displacement with inadequate compensation, but also by overlooking the vast non-commodified value riverine communities gain from free-flowing rivers (Eyler Reference Eyler2019). The commons are also intricately linked to different visions for governance and development, from rampant extraction to funding social welfare to post-development alternatives, all of which have radically varied implications (see Riofrancos Reference Riofrancos2020). Across Myanmar, rivers are a particularly significant commons, as they support not just livelihoods and life, but are also intertwined with cultural identity, as is the case for Myitsone and the Salween, and are thus connected with wide-ranging political contestation. Consequently, water governance is not simply economic, but also a key site of resistance, as this paper examines.

Hydropower is portrayed as directly contributing to gross domestic product (GDP) and export earnings through the sale of electricity, while also electrifying Myanmar’s rural areas to further stimulate economic growth. Such framing also draws upon a historical regional paradigm of state-led modernisation and technological progress (Blake and Barney Reference Blake and Barney2018). For example, the Narmada dams in India were seen as intertwined with a broader process of capitalist development (Nilsen Reference Nilsen2010). The alleged benefits of regional economic integration are also a driving force for expanding hydropower in Myanmar, while overlooking the relation to armed conflict (see Suhardiman et al. Reference Suhardiman, Rutherford and Bright2017). The role of the state is central and its extension of authority over the commons can also occur under the guise of both modernisation and conservation, which also advances the military state into contested borderlands (Woods Reference Woods2019). Alliances with global capital provide a further veneer of legitimacy for hydropower globally (Hensengerth Reference Hensengerth2015), while in Myanmar, an influential Asia Development Bank (ADB) assessment emphasises “huge hydropower potential” that will contribute to “overall economic development and for direct social benefit to residents” (ADB 2012: 1-4). More recently, the International Finance Corporation (IFC) backed hydropower through a Strategic Environmental Assessment that claimed to provide a “balanced pathway for sustainable hydropower development in Myanmar” (IFC 2018: p.xiii). The report was widely criticised by civil society actors, not just for the substance, but also for the improper consultation processes (see Suhardiman et al. Reference Suhardiman, Rutherford and Bright2017).

The contestation of hydropower hegemony in Myanmar is adept for illuminating key aspects relating to subaltern resistance, particularly the relationships between the state, capital, international aid, and civil society actors. The analysis in this paper connects with substantive bodies of work that explore contested governance and territoriality in Myanmar (Woods Reference Woods2011, Reference Woods2019; Woods and Naimark Reference Woods and Naimark2020), alongside modalities of resistance in relation to hydropower projects (Kiik Reference Kiik2016, Reference Kiik2020). Contested water governance also intersects with research on land use in Myanmar and globally. As Mark (Reference Mark2023) argues, control over land is inextricably linked to political economy dynamics across the country, including the pursuit of democracy. Indeed, Myanmar’s so-called ‘opening up’ in the 2010s witnessed major contestation over efforts to delineate land, as the central state sought to assert control on what were previously fluid land use modalities (Faxon Reference Faxon2023). As such, land governance is also intertwined with modalities of resistance and state formation across much of Myanmar (see Suhardiman et al. Reference Suhardiman, Bright and Palmano2021).

This paper connects to such analyses on natural resource governance, but with a major focus on the relationship between international aid and civil society actors. This includes examining subaltern resistance amid unequal power structures (see Décobert Reference Décobert2020; Wells Reference Wells2021), while also considering the agency of activists amidst the distortionary impacts of aid (Barter Reference Barter2024a). The paper uses a neo-Gramscian definition of civil society as a site of ideological contestation (Alagappa Reference Alagappa2004) and what is described as “the arena outside the family, the state, and the market, which is created by individual and collective actions, organisations, and institutions to advance shared interests” (VanDyck Reference VanDyck2017: 1). Ultimately, this paper examines the Myitsone and SPP campaigns as they galvanised not only civil society solidarity, but also the potential for re-imagining ‘development’ in Myanmar, from ideological contestation to asserting territorial sovereignty, both of which are central to the current revolution in response to the 2021 military coup.

The Construction of Hydropower Hegemony in Myanmar

This article examines the contestation of hydropower hegemony for proposed large-scale hydropower schemes for the Myitsone confluence in northern Myanmar and the Salween River in eastern Myanmar. Myitsone is a locally and nationally significant confluence that forms the beginning of the Irrawaddy River, Myanmar’s most prominent river, which courses through the country, supporting millions of people. In contrast, the Salween is in the borderlands, forming one of the last relatively free-flowing rivers in Southeast Asia. It is central to ethnic Karen identity and livelihoods. Both case studies of resistance to large-scale hydropower are illustrative of how civil society actors and networks contested visions for development, governance, and aid in Myanmar, following Cyclone Nargis in 2008. This process of contestation highlights the need to examine and understand the agency of civil society actors, rather than simplified narratives of top-down aid influence. Both cases are unique, but the ongoing revolution since the 2021 coup illustrates widespread dynamism, creativity, and agency amongst civil (and political) society actors across Myanmar, not just in defiance of military rule, but also the potentially depoliticising influence of international aid. The case studies are also illustrative of long-standing and ongoing efforts to not just reimagine governance and development across Myanmar, but also human relationships with nature. While the Myitsone campaign has been widely acknowledged for its success, the SPP represents a more radical assertion of Indigenous sovereignty, self-determination, and ecological harmony.

Hydropower hegemony in Myanmar has been grounded in a discourse of modernisation and poverty alleviation, intensified by the military’s ambition to “catch up” with the rest of Southeast Asia following decades of economic stagnation (see Thant Reference Thant2020). Due to the military’s violent suppression of the 1988 democratic uprising and resulting sanctions, foreign investment into Myanmar was sclerotic until democratic reforms gathered pace in the late 2000s. The ADB and World Bank, for example, withheld development funding throughout Myanmar’s decades of isolation. Consequently, the various iterations of the junta have sought different sources of investment and partnerships over the decades. This ranges from significant Chinese and Japanese investment during periods of intense Western sanctions to partnerships with ethnic resistance organisations (EROs). The latter relates to what has since been termed “ceasefire capitalism” (see Woods Reference Woods2011), where the junta used the 1994-2011 ceasefire in Kachin to extend territorial control, particularly through offering the Kachin Independence Organisation (KIO) leadership lucrative economic opportunities. Thus, hydropower hegemony in Myanmar is also linked to a long history of junta efforts to co-opt EROs and quell opposition (see Brenner Reference Brenner2015).

The lack of investment meant that Myanmar’s energy sector (and economic activity) “lagged greatly behind its potential” (ADB 2012: 2). Electricity usage data is illuminating; as of 2013, Myanmar’s per capita usage was only 156 kilowatt hours (kWh) per annum compared to 2,426 kWh in neighbouring Thailand. Even similarly low-income countries in Southeast Asia had far greater electricity consumption, with Cambodia at 241 kWh and Laos at 506 kWh (Nam et al. Reference Nam, Cham and Halili2015: 2). Myanmar’s Human Development Index at 0.543 in 2013 also lagged Cambodia’s 0.562, while neighbouring Thailand was 0.747 (UNDP 2023). As Myanmar emerged from isolation following Cyclone Nargis in 2008, the combination of ‘lagging potential’ for hydropower, low electricity consumption, and the military’s rapacious development model underpinned Myanmar’s iteration of hydropower hegemony.

Foreign capital played an important role in the construction of this hegemony by reinforcing the desirability of large dams. Myanmar’s influx of foreign investment was not unique to hydropower, with capital also pouring into extractive industries, telecommunications, real estate, and other sectors (Slow Reference Slow2023). The collective post-isolation zeal towards the country’s ‘opening up’, however, was particularly prominent in the hydropower sector. Chinese capital, especially through the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), and Thai investors actively sought out hydropower projects, even before Myanmar emerged from isolation. Such foreign investment was framed as contributing to rural electrification and thus poverty reduction and development, alongside electricity exports for much-needed foreign currency (and ostensibly to meet Chinese and Thai energy needs). The global hydropower lobby group, the International Hydropower Association (IHA), typified foreign capital’s optimistic view of Myanmar. Their website portrays the country as in a “strategic position” full of hydropower “potential” that is attracting “increased international engagement” to “build on previous successes”. Myanmar’s low electrification rate, rapidly growing demand, and supportive government policies are also foregrounded, with “hydropower as a long-term energy solution” (IHA 2023).

Alongside private sector capital, the ADB contributed important technical justification and related analysis for hydropower. Its 2012 Myanmar Energy Sector Assessment set the tone, as it highlighted “huge hydropower potential” (ADB 2012: 1) and described the country’s four main river systems as having 100,000 megawatts (mw) of production potential, of which less than 10 per cent “has been harnessed”. As a nation surrounded by energy-importing countries with a cumulative population of approximately three billion people, hydropower was consistently framed as a significant pillar for Myanmar’s post-isolation economic transformation. Throughout the assessment, the words hydropower and potential are consistently tied together. The “exploitation” of hydropower (and other energy sources) is framed as key to accelerating “overall economic development and for direct social benefit to residents” (ADB 2012: 2-4). Such enthusiasm continued in a 2015 report Power Sector Development in Myanmar (Nam et al. Reference Nam, Cham and Halili2015); hydropower is again discursively linked to potential and abundance throughout the document, mirroring the IHA’s wording. The ADB’s optimistic and technical framing would inform the Myanmar government’s discourse in constructing hydropower hegemony, as articulated in the government’s 2015 Energy Master Plan:

The government’s discourse was backed by action that was, in turn, triggering growing popular resistance. From 2008 to 2013, Myanmar’s hydropower capacity doubled to 3,000 mw, representing over 70 per cent of the country’s electricity supply (National Energy Management Committee 2015: 69). By 2012, the military-aligned Union Solidarity and Development (USDP) government had “identified 92 potential large hydropower projects” (ADB 2012: 2). While the alliance of foreign capital, ADB and government persevered with technocratic language, the opposing view of such “potential” was that Myanmar’s river systems were not ripe for “exploitation”. Instead, the country’s abundant and relatively free-flowing rivers represented intact, complex ecosystems of irreducible cultural, social, and ecological value (KDNG 2007). As post-isolation Myanmar underwent wide-ranging political and economic changes, this contrasting view was at odds with the military-backed government and later the National League for Democracy (NLD) government’s development agenda. For the pro-hydropower alliance, such incongruence was viewed as a surmountable technical issue, as the ADB-supported and government-adopted Energy Master Plan made clear:

This technical, economically rationalist framing underpinning hydropower hegemony also intersected with critical governance and territoriality issues. Hydropower projects can extend the state into contested borderlands, including areas controlled and governed by EROs, most notably the KIO for Myitsone and the Karen National Union (KNU) for the Salween. As Woods (Reference Woods2011, Reference Woods2019) argues, in conjunction with armed violence, the Myanmar military has strategically pursued insidious tactics to extend its territorial control and governance into ERO-controlled territories. Cash crop plantations and conservation zones, for example, are guised as relatively benign economic and ecological endeavours, but are intended to expand the military state into contested areas. Hydropower projects are no different, as their claimed “potential” for economic activity matched with technical solutions downplayed deeper contextual realities.

The proposed projects for Myitsone and the Salween were extending military power and were antithetical to the pursuit of emancipation by indigenous and ethnic minority groups (minorities that do not claim indigeneity) in Myanmar. These pursuits included protecting the natural environment for its cultural, spiritual, and ecological value (see KNU 2015). In this regard, there are extensive intersections between civil society actors and EROs. This can be a symbiotic relationship when interests are aligned, such as in relation to indigenous and ethnic minority emancipation. For example, the civil society actor, Karen Environmental and Social Action Network (KESAN), has a long-standing and constructive engagement with the KNU that was instrumental in creating the SPP. However, the civil society and ERO dynamic can also be in conflict, particularly when civil society actors oppose ERO practices that may be extractive (natural resource governance being a major flashpoint). Indeed, attempted economic co-optation of the KIO by the junta led to significant resentment amongst the Kachin population (see Brenner Reference Brenner2015). Although this article focuses on civil society forms of subaltern resistance, it recognises that it exists in relation to political society activity, including EROs’ armed resistance.

Figure 1.

The map above (Figure 1) shows the scale of planned hydropower in Myanmar, with the top star indicating Myitsone and the mid-right star indicating the series of dams planned for the lower Salween, which stretches north into China.

(Source: The Nature Conservancy et al. 2016)

Figure 2.

The map above (Figure 2) outlines the SPP, including the different types of territory within the Park, and its location in Myanmar.

(Source: KESAN 2024)

Aid Politics and Civil Society Agency

As Myanmar’s ‘opening up’ accelerated in the 2010s with influxes of global capital and international aid, the scene was set for Myitsone and the Salween to be centres of subaltern resistance and contestation over Myanmar’s future. The aid influx was criticised as being an “anti-politics machinery” (Bächtold Reference Bächtold2015), failing to critically engage with Myanmar’s political dynamics and understand local civil society perspectives (Décobert Reference Décobert2020). Aid partnerships have also been detrimental to civil society actors, putting people at significant risk of harm, particularly in the volatile post-coup era (Hlaing et al. Reference Hlaing, Wells and Décobert2024). However, as Barter (Reference Barter2024a) suggests, too great an emphasis on the negative impacts of aid can downplay the significance of historical and political influences on civil society actors. It also discounts the agency of civil society actors to navigate the presence of international aid. For example, Myanmar civil society is adept at negotiating and challenging aid practices, not merely at a technical level, but in terms of politics and power (Décobert Reference Décobert, Ware and Skidmore2023). This is also evident in a “rich history of subversive humanitarianism” (Naing and Wells Reference Naing, Wells, Ware and Skidmore2023: 278), despite international aid encouraging more technocratic service delivery. Consequently, this paper builds upon the work of Öjendal and Ou (Reference Öjendal and Ou2015: 930), who illustrate international aid’s “complex interaction with circumstantial factors” rather than dismissing it outright. As such, this paper adopts what Chandra refers to as a “realist ontology” for examining structures of domination, where subaltern resistance is to:

As the military state, backed by foreign capital, constructed its technocratic hydropower hegemony to justify the expansion of dams into Myanmar’s borderlands, civil society actors instead constructed rivers of resistance. The ensuing opposition reflected decades of resistance to the military’s rapacious rule and would be a harbinger of the popular revolution in response to the 2021 military coup. Such dynamics have been referred to as “slow resistance” that “encompasses collective, strategic, and protracted efforts to resist unjust and ongoing developments” (Fung and Lamb 2023: 1680), including regular adaptation according to the constraints of authoritarian contexts. The following analysis builds upon this concept, centring civil society agency amid broader aid politics and influences. This includes recognition of the potentially symbiotic relationship between civil society actors and EROs, particularly in the case of the SPP (see Loong Reference Loong2025).

Myitsone: A Confluence of Resistance

The proposed Myitsone hydropower project epitomises the turbulence of Myanmar’s emergence from isolation, as a broad coalition of civil society actors challenged the central state’s doctrine of what Springer (Reference Springer2015) has termed ‘violent neoliberalism.’ Originating in the mid-2000s and backed by the Chinese state and capital, Myitsone seemed all but inevitable. A vast project comparable in scale to the Three GorgesFootnote ² hydropower scheme, Myitsone would strengthen China’s influence in Myanmar and help power energy-poor Yunnan province. It would also provide the Myanmar state and military with a steady income stream and consolidate its authority in areas of Kachin claimed and administered by the KIO (KDNG 2007). Against such powerful interests, an endogenous counter-movement emerged and achieved the unthinkable; suspension of the dam by the inaugural ‘transition,’ but military-aligned, USDP government in September 2011. The Myitsone campaign is demonstrative of civil society actors’ agency and dynamism, which avoided any substantive distortions from the concurrent international aid influx. The campaign’s success owed to its strategic framing and tactics that drew upon decades of resistance to military violence, which intensified during the campaign as war resumed in Kachin (see Barter and Sumlut Reference Barter and Sumlut2023). Any success, however, must also be understood within ongoing civil war dynamics, where the involvement of EROs can perpetuate inter-ethnic divisions, even if boosting anti-dam resistance (see Kim Reference Kim2024).

The Myitsone campaign has attracted significant attention and analysis, particularly owing to its success in influencing an otherwise recalcitrant regime. In one of the most comprehensive analyses, based on years of anthropological research, Kiik (Reference Kiik2016, Reference Kiik2020) argues the campaign was successful because it achieved ethnic solidarity between the minority Kachin and majority Bamar population. This was achieved through nationalistic appeals, such as the centrality of Myitsone to Kachin identity and the Irrawaddy River to ethnic Bamar. Other analyses have emphasised the military’s longstanding fear of over-dependence on China, where pivoting towards Western investment was a strategic move (Strangio Reference Strangio2022; Egreteau and Li Reference Egreteau, Li, Simpson, Farrelly and Holliday2016). The armed threat of the Kachin Independence Army (KIA) also posed a continued impediment and risk to construction. The KIA’s assertive stance was influenced by the rampant natural resource extraction and resulting environmental degradation following a ceasefire in 1994, and thus a need to reinforce its legitimacy amongst the Kachin population (Joliffe Reference Joliffe2015). As Sadan (Reference Sadan2013) articulates in great depth, ethnic Kachin identity and nationalism have evolved over generations, preceding the KIA. Defending Myitsone was one campaign amongst generations of resistance, most recently against the Myanmar military, but dating back to colonial and pre-colonial times.

The remainder of this section builds upon these critiques by situating the Myitsone campaign within Myanmar’s emergence from decades of isolation and through the analytical lens of hydropower hegemony. This relates to and builds upon analyses on aid politics and civil society agency, particularly subaltern resistance (Barter Reference Barter2024a; Chandra Reference Chandra2015; Décobert Reference Décobert, Ware and Skidmore2023, for example). The campaign demonstrated the significance of pre-existing and assertive civil society actors and networks across the country. This was evident in the framing and tactics of the campaign that disregarded the tendency of international aid actors towards reformist approaches, such as reports and dialogue, to instead produce a locally relevant and persuasive narrative. From the outset, this emotive narrative engaged with and posed a distinct challenge to the state and foreign capital’s hydropower hegemony. Its resonance was enhanced by tactics that elicited widespread public support, which ultimately brought into question the state’s violent development agenda and the role of foreign capital in post-isolation Myanmar.

Overview of the Myitsone Project

Located in Kachin state, northern Myanmar, Myitsone is the name given to the confluence of the Mali and N’Mai rivers. The proposed hydropower project is situated in and would impact areas of contested governance, primarily between the KIO/A and the Myanmar military, but also other smaller armed actors. Although the military had consolidated and expanded territorial control in much of the surrounding area after the signing of a ceasefire in 1994, there was still a significant KIO/A presence near the confluence. The KIO/A also claims influence in decision-making over Myitsone as an entity representing ethnic Kachin interests (Sadan Reference Sadan2013). For ethnic Kachin, Myitsone holds irreplaceable cultural and spiritual value, mythologised as the birthplace of Kachin, while also being revered by the majority ethnic Bamar population; the confluence forms the Irrawaddy River, which is seen as the lifeblood of Myanmar, flowing past the ancient capitals of Mandalay and Bagan, before discharging into the ocean near the country’s largest city and former capital, Yangon (Kirchherr et al. Reference Kirchherr, Charles and Walton2017). The Irrawaddy originates domestically in northern Myanmar, and while it supports the livelihoods of millions of people across much of the country, Myitsone would not severely disrupt the river’s fish migration like dams along the Mekong have done, particularly in Cambodia and Laos.

The origins of the proposed Myitsone hydropower project date back to Myanmar’s isolationist period, but opposition and the possibility of construction would continue well into the post-isolation era. The earliest known plans for the series of dams at and around Myitsone date back to 2002, with the project officially launched by the military in 2007. The wall of the first dam was set to be 152 metres high and would completely inundate the confluence area, including 47 villages, and displace approximately 10,000 people. Despite the enormous impact, affected communities knew little of the plans, as the military and foreign capital kept the project clouded in secrecy (KDNG 2007). The first (and largest) dam was expected to generate 6,000 mw. A total of seven dams were planned, which would generate a total of 18,000 mw, almost as much as China’s enormous Three Gorges project (Kiik Reference Kiik2016). As a reference point, Myanmar’s entire installed electricity generation capacity was just under 2,000 mw in 2008 and 4,422 mw by 2014 (Nam et al. Reference Nam, Cham and Halili2015: 9). However, 90 per cent of Myitsone’s electricity would be exported to China, reflecting how closely the project was linked to Chinese capital and foreign policy.

Despite preceding the official launch of the BRI, Myitsone exemplified China’s ‘going out’ policy that, aside from geopolitical interests, sought to stimulate development in energy-deprived parts of western China (Kiik Reference Kiik2016). Gas pipelines from Myanmar’s Rakhine state into China’s Yunnan province also reflected this strategy, justified by the state on economic terms, but strongly opposed by affected populations (Meehan and Sadan Reference Meehan, Sadan, Simpson, Farrelly and Holliday2016). If constructed, Myitsone would have been China’s largest hydropower project abroad (Kiik Reference Kiik2016). The project was also indicative of China’s desire to deploy excess capital and expertise that was accruing domestically. The hydropower industry was an effective lobby group and had close linkages with the Chinese state (Interviewee A, Chinese hydropower expert).

Considering Myanmar’s heavily sanctioned, isolated status at the time, Myitsone represented a mutually beneficial alliance between the military and Chinese interests (later supported by the ADB’s technical contribution to hydropower hegemony). For China, the economic imperative was clear. Myitsone also served political purposes, as it increased Myanmar’s dependency on China and ostensibly strengthened relationships that had historically been fraughtFootnote ³ (Mark et al. Reference Mark, Overland and Vakulchuk2020). Myitsone appealed to the Myanmar military on multiple fronts; China fronted the capital and expertise, while the military would receive a steady stream of income estimated at half a billion USD per annum (KDNG 2007). That income would prop up the heavily sanctioned, cash-starved junta. The dam’s location would also extend military control and influence into territory contested by the KIO/A, building upon the military’s continued expansion across Kachin state since their signing of the 1994 ceasefire (which collapsed in 2011) (Woods Reference Woods2011). For China and the Myanmar military, Myitsone appeared to be a win-win. For ethnic Kachin and ultimately much of Myanmar’s population, it would become a flashpoint of resistance to the military’s violent and exploitative practices disguised as ‘development.’ As Strangio writes, “few things encapsulated the bad old days in Burma quite like the Myitsone dam” (Strangio Reference Strangio2022: 143).

Previously shrouded in secrecy, the official launch of Myitsone in May 2007 triggered an expansion of opposition to the project. In the five years since the initial plans for Myitsone, the military had discreetly signed a memorandum of understanding with the China Power Investment Corporation, alongside an in-principle agreement between the Myanmar and Chinese governments. Initial drilling, surveying, and other preliminary steps had also taken place. These actions had not gone entirely unnoticed, but it wasn’t until the groundbreaking ceremony that the plans for Myitsone became more widely known (GIGA 2012). Even then, residents living near the confluence, whose villages were earmarked for resettlement, received scant information about the project. A resident from one such village, called Tang Hpre, explained during an interview for this paper that throughout 2007, they knew very little. “In 2008, we were shocked when they started building a construction camp,” the resident recalled (Interviewee B, Kachin villager).

Although the military government and private sector alliance withheld details, the official launch of the project quickly attracted responses from other actors. Two weeks after the launch, twelve Kachin community leaders sent a letter to Senior General Than Shwe calling for an end to the project. By July, the KIO had written to both Than Shwe and the Chinese government, similarly calling for a cessation of construction, even suggesting dams could be built elsewhere in Kachin (GIGA 2012). These quick responses indicated the widespread concern amongst ethnic Kachin. Having already received an objection letter from concerned residents living at the confluence (KDNG 2007), the KIO needed to take a strong position against the dam to shore up its own legitimacy. In October, the Kachin Development Networking Group (KDNG) launched a report, Damming the Irrawaddy, which outlined the cultural, spiritual, and ecological significance of the area and called for cancellation of the project. The report became a bedrock for the ensuing campaign, which, coinciding with Myanmar’s emergence from isolation, would illustrate civil society’s tactics in pursuing newfound opportunities for resistance.

Campaign Tactics: The Importance of Creativity and Mobilisation

Beyond framing, the tactics of the campaign were critical to its success, as they navigated severe authoritarian rule followed by uneven post-isolation political liberalisation. Initial mobilisation efforts were significant, but also reflective of the military-imposed constraints on mobilisation during Myanmar’s isolation. Following the initial letters calling for cancellation of the project and the 2007 KDNG report, civil society actors increased their direct engagement with people living in the confluence area. At this point, residents still knew very few details about the project. Civil society actors believed awareness-raising was critical for mobilising local opposition; discreet information sharing followed (Interviewee C, Kachin activist). In 2009, preliminary construction began to intensify, along with pressure on the residents to resettle in villages being constructed away from the confluence. In parallel to what occurred with the Lower Sesan Two (LS2) dam in northeast Cambodia (see Barter and Sar Reference Barter and Sar2023), more recent arrivals in the confluence area, typically migrants from other parts of Myanmar, were more amenable to resettlement. Still, ethnic Kachin were staunchly opposed (Interviewee D, Kachin activist). A determined group of residents continued to resist resettlement even when faced with increasing pressure from the military.

Localised resistance in the confluence area took on a multitude of forms that were attuned to the acute constraints and risks during the late 2000s in Myanmar. These early tactics included large-scale prayer ceremonies, posters, letters, small protests, and what became infamous red graffiti art of “no dam no war” written on a prominent, sacred rock at the confluence. In meetings with authorities, the anti-dam message was continually repeated (KDNG 2009). These actions were not particularly confrontational, but they were defiant, especially considering the military’s history of readily suppressing resistance with violence throughout Myanmar’s decades of isolation, particularly against ethnic Kachin (Lintner Reference Lintner1990). To increase the likelihood of a successful campaign, civil society actors sought to develop tactics that would move the campaign beyond being a localised and predominantly ethnic Kachin struggle.

Myanmar’s emergence from international isolation, accelerated by Nargis in 2008, created new opportunities for civil society actors to expand the Myitsone campaign. The transition was highly uneven (and since the 2021 coup, regressing towards isolation once more), but it did involve extensive liberalisation for civil and political activity. This included a significant expansion of media freedoms and internet access, which made exile-run publications critical of the military, such as The Irrawaddy and Democratic Voice of Burma, much more accessible. In-country outlets also expanded, as did the number of foreign journalists based in Myanmar (Lidauer Reference Lidauer2012). This was matched by the rapidly growing presence of international aid actors. The scale and speed of these changes reinforced the sense that opposition to the Myitsone dam could test new boundaries, albeit with caution, considering the volatility of the transition, such as the 2011 resumption of war in Kachin.

In response to the country’s liberalisation, opposition to Myitsone expanded through the utilisation of tactics designed to attract mass popular support. The local protests at the confluence and ethnic Kachin resistance remained critical, but a broader anti-dam coalition was cultivated. This coalition involved a diverse array of civil society groups from other parts of Myanmar, such as the Burma Rivers Network, which brought together ethnic groups opposing dams across Myanmar, and Paung Ku, a flexible network supporting activists across the country. The alliance cultivated solidarity across groups, perhaps most critically between Kachin and the Bamar majority (Kiik Reference Kiik2020). Exiled activists also raised attention about Myitsone through networks emanating from neighbouring Thailand (Interviewee D, Kachin activist). Although the campaign was amplified by international civil society groups, such as International Rivers, it was driven by the growing alliance of Myanmar actors. As the activist interviewee from earlier explained:

Rather than engage in technical dialogue about the Myitsone hydropower scheme, the growing alliance focused on creative mass communications. This included facilitating media outlets to visit the confluence area and broadcast the stories of affected populations, which helped bring the issue into the national consciousness. Poets, cartoonists, academics, and other creatives were supported to engage with the issues and produce related material (Interviewee E, Bamar activist). Such an approach tapped into Myanmar’s long history of creative dissidence, particularly when more direct approaches were heavily suppressed. The use of creative tactics proved highly effective in making Myitsone a national issue. An interviewee from a discreetly operating Myanmar civil society network explained the tactics during an interview for this paper:

The Myitsone tactics proved highly effective at challenging the ideological power of hydropower hegemony. Rather than being corralled into a technical debate about impacts and compensation that could be relatively easily mitigated by the dam’s supporters (see Barter and Sar Reference Barter and Sar2023), the campaign’s use of creative arts and media built and sustained national interest. Such tactics resonated with the broader public and were also not easily rebutted. This was critical because in the second half of 2010, the military violently enforced resettlement and closed the school near the confluence (explained by Interviewee F, Kachin activist). The original localised resistance was now forcibly resettled to a less visible and symbolic area, but the campaign had already spread and would continue attracting growing support.

Success and Uncertainty: The 2011 Suspension of Myitsone

After years of growing resistance during major contextual changes, the campaign achieved a breakthrough in September 2011, when President Thein Sein suspended the project. The suspension was extraordinary considering the many factors that suggested continuation of the project was likely; preliminary construction was already underway, villages in the confluence area had mostly been forcibly resettled, the USDP had comprehensive control of parliament, and the Chinese government and capital were asserting substantial pressure on the USDP government to continue the project. The June 2011 resumption of war in Kachin state, however, had heightened sensitivities in the area. Considering these factors, it was a testament to the strategic tactics and framing of the campaign that it was able to assert sufficient pressure to trigger the dam’s suspension. However, as Kiik (Reference Kiik2020) highlights, a multitude of factors were at play, including the Thein Sein government signalling its willingness to listen to civil society actors and openness to the West, alongside the influence of ethnic nationalisms. This was evident during an interview for this paper with one of the main authors of the initial Damming the Irrawaddy report and an ongoing activist, who explained that the suspension resulted from a unique constellation of factors relating particularly to Myanmar’s emergence from isolation:

Bridging the country’s transition from isolation in the late 2000s, the Myitsone campaign demonstrated the pre-existing strength and agency of civil society actors in Myanmar, grounded in decades of resistance to military rule. The campaign proved highly agile at capitalising on burgeoning opportunities as Myanmar emerged from isolation, using creative means to contest hydropower hegemony. The initial actions in 2007, specifically letter writing and the Damming the Irrawaddy report, reflected the constraints on civic action at that time, but gradually gave way to broader mobilisation and a counternarrative to the military’s commodification of the commons. A physically confrontational approach was not feasible, but the Myitsone campaign instead proved adept at finding other ways to capture public imagination. The collaboration with media outlets, cartoonists, poets, and other creatives recognised the importance of ideological contestation, rejecting the military state’s decades-long accumulation through dispossession. The Myitsone campaign typified Chandra’s (Reference Chandra2015) definition of subaltern resistance, as it negotiated power relations from below towards an emancipatory direction. The narrative was distinctly counter-hegemonic, offering an alternative, predominantly post-development vision.

The Myitsone campaign leading up to the suspension was ultimately not just anti-dam, but a locally led refutation of the hydropower hegemony that the military and foreign capital sought to impose. The campaign identified and opposed the militarisation that came under the guise of development. It rejected the desirability and inevitability of foreign investment that dispossesses communities. Framing was critical, as the campaign foregrounded cultural, spiritual, and ecological values that transcended commodified economic value. It refused to be lured into a technical dialogue by persisting with an emotive narrative. The influx of international aid did not significantly influence the campaign, but provided some important support, a marked contrast to countries like Cambodia, where international accountability mechanisms or “forum shopping” (Joshi Reference Joshi2020) are routinely pursued in favour of locally led and relevant resistance. Timing was also important, as civil society resistance coincided with political and economic shifts that increased the viability of the dam being suspended, as the Thein Sein government sought international legitimacy. Occurring as Myanmar was emerging from decades of isolation, the campaign was about rethinking development through valuing alternate epistemologies, cultivating solidarity, and moving beyond destruction framed as progress. This was invaluable for questioning and countering the post-isolation influx of capital, which, as the ADB hydropower plans illustrated, dogmatically emphasised “potential,” but strategically avoided the question of which communities would suffer detrimental impacts by unlocking this so-called potential. The 2011 suspension of Myitsone, however, did not mark the end of the campaign.

Post-suspension: The Ongoing Myitsone Campaign Amidst National Turbulence

Despite securing the 2011 suspension, the campaign has persisted and evolved until the time of writing in 2025, as the struggle over Myitsone is reflective of the broader turbulence in 21st-century Myanmar. Following the suspension, the construction site has remained largely dormant through a volatile period in the history of both Kachin and Myanmar. In 2013, China officially launched the BRI, adding renewed significance to the Myitsone dam, as the Chinese state and hydropower developers continued to push for resumption of the project. War and mass civilian displacement in Kachin have continued following the collapse of the 1994 ceasefire in 2011. The 2015 election of the civilian NLD government was initially cause for optimism amongst the campaign coalition, as Aung San Suu Kyi had declined to support the Myitsone hydropower project over the years, such as when she publicly declared the following in 2011:

The optimism of the Myitsone campaign coalition was gradually replaced by renewed concern, as the NLD hoped to rejuvenate Myanmar’s declining pace of economic growth. This included a major focus on attracting foreign investment and addressing electricity shortages. GDP growth had steadily declined from 11.1 per cent in 2008 to 3.3 per cent by 2015 (World Bank 2023b), despite major growth in areas such as construction and telecommunications. Electricity access had steadily improved, but even in 2015, only 60.5 per cent of the population had access (World Bank 2023a), while 84 per cent of rural households had no electricity connection, “creating hardship, perpetuating poverty, and stalling development” (World Bank 2015). Around the time the NLD was elected, a multitude of international actors were active in reinforcing hydropower hegemony and thus the justification to resume the Myitsone project. Chief among them were the ADB and IHA, as outlined earlier in this paper, alongside Thai companies looking for new projects in Myanmar, considering the strong anti-dam movement in Thailand (Simpson Reference Simpson2016).

The economic challenges the NLD inherited from the USDP soon intensified, raising concerns that the Myitsone construction might resume. It is beyond the scope of this paper and has attracted significant analysis elsewhere (see Galache Reference Galache2020; Thant Reference Thant2020), but the military’s genocideFootnote ⁴ against the Rohingya across 2016 and 2017 compounded the challenges for the NLD. Alongside the sheer brutality and human impact, the genocide severely impacted foreign, particularly Western, direct investment (Slow Reference Slow2023). As Western capital and political actors cooled on Myanmar, the lure of Chinese (and Thai) investment increased for the NLD. For China, the resumption of Myitsone remained a priority. This represented a bind for the NLD; elected through mass popular appeal, but due to circumstances largely beyond its control, it was incentivised to resume Myitsone. By 2019, Aung San Suu Kyi addressed a public forum in a manner clearly tailored towards attracting foreign investment, with Myitsone in mind:

In response, the Myitsone campaign continued to be resilient and dynamic in ways that demonstrated civil society actors’ agency. The campaign has continued with a cultural and ecological framing delivered through emotive messaging, which has also been matched with an emphasis on Myanmar’s sovereignty. Capitalising on the post-isolation liberalisation, the campaign adopted more confrontational tactics, particularly large-scale protests, including in Yangon, which were previously unviable. It also pivoted to target newly relevant stakeholders, most notably the ADB and NLD (Lwin Reference Lwin2019a). Activists continue to demonstrate creativity, such as a “One Dollar Campaign,” which aimed to collect a dollar per person to compensate China for the expenditures to date (Lwin Reference Lwin2019b). Although ultimately symbolic, it reinforced the widespread opposition to any resumption of Myitsone. The campaign also proved effective at engaging media outlets to keep Myitsone in the public consciousness, particularly in the lead-up to the 2020 election (see Fishbein Reference Fishbein2019). While civil society actors such as KDNG and Paung KuFootnote ⁵ remained key protagonists, the anti-dam coalition also extended to newly elected political actors, such as the Shan Nationalities League for Democracy (loosely affiliated with the NLD). Its Secretary, U Sai Nyunt Lwin stated at a 2019 forum organised by civil society groups:

Although Myanmar experienced a vast influx of international aid and actors following Cyclone Nargis, this never substantively influenced the Myitsone campaign, unlike the major aid-related civil society distortions common in Cambodia (see Barter Reference Barter2024b). Instead, the Myitsone campaign demonstrated the agency and assertiveness of civil society actors in Myanmar, grounded in decades of resistance against military repression (Barter Reference Barter2024a). Both authors were directly involved in these dynamics, supporting civil society actors as they contested and resisted the problematic influences of international aid and actors. For example, supporting civil society critiques of and opposition towards international aid practices. There was never a substantive shift in the Myitsone campaign towards the more technocratic and reformist approaches international aid actors are criticised for deploying. As Kiik (Reference Kiik2020) suggests, the campaign was particularly unique in being able to cultivate inter-ethnic solidarity. Such solidarity, however, struggled to challenge the military’s violent and rapacious development agenda beyond Myitsone, as evidenced by the continued war and rampant resource extraction elsewhere in Kachin (particularly jade mining) and Myanmar (Global Witness 2015). In this regard, it was not the high-profile Myitsone campaign, but efforts to protect the Salween River in eastern Myanmar, which represented a more radical counter-movement against the military and the central state’s violent neoliberalism, specifically the creation of the Salween Peace Park.

The Salween Peace Park: Post-Development in Practice

Where the Myitsone campaign built and sustained a wide-ranging alliance, the creation of the SPP embodied a broader project of indigenous and ethnic emancipation that challenged the very legitimacy of the military and central state. Confronted with the military’s violence and efforts to expand territorial control (under the guise of hydropower hegemony backed by predatory foreign capital), the SPP was an assertion of ethnic Karen sovereignty and self-determination. It posed a distinctly ideological challenge through foregrounding social justice and ecological harmony against the incongruent claims of hydropower proponents. Established through a tripartite alliance of civil society actors, local communities, and the KNU, the SPP provides unique insights into subaltern resistance, particularly how, drawing on decades of struggle, civil society actors astutely navigated Myanmar’s post-isolation dynamics to reimagine the country’s governance and development. Whereas numerous analyses (Bächtold Reference Bächtold2015; Fink and Simpson Reference Simpson2016) emphasise the deleterious influence of the international aid influx following Nargis, the SPP demonstrates civil society actors’ agency and an effort, in the words of Gramsci (Reference Gramsci2000: 196), “to destroy one hegemony and create another, as a necessary moment in the revolutionizing of praxis.” As Loong (Reference Loong2025) argues, the SPP represents far “more-than-rebel territory,” to instead rejuvenate Indigenous socioecological relations and the pursuit of inclusive democracy.

Conflicting Perspectives on the Salween

Located in eastern Myanmar, the Salween River is one of Southeast Asia’s last remaining major free-flowing rivers and holds immense significance for many ethnic Karen. The Salween originates in China’s Yunnan province before flowing south through eastern Myanmar (see Middleton and Lamb Reference Middleton and Lamb2019). At points, it forms the border with Thailand. The river supports the livelihoods of more than ten million people and rich biodiversity throughout the surrounding area (International Rivers 2012). For many Karen, the Salween has extensive cultural and ecological value, sustaining what is described as Kawthoolei: a holistic concept of Karen land, as a place of social justice, ethnic emancipation, and ecological harmony (KNU 2015). KESAN, a civil society group, explains further:

In contrast to Kawthoolei, the hydropower proponents had a distinctly different perspective on the Salween. Rather than a basis for ecosystem and cultural preservation, hydropower developers viewed the free-flowing status of the Salween as full of “potential” for the construction of large dams. Backed by substantial monetary and political capital, Chinese and Thai hydropower developers have long sought hydropower projects along the Salween, with known plans for 20 dams that would primarily serve energy needs in China and Thailand (Aye Reference Aye, Middleton and Lamb2019). For the Myanmar government, with technical support from the ADB, the Salween is considered to possess 38 per cent of the country’s hydropower “potential” (National Energy Management Committee 2015: 190). Despite discourse that emphasises “potential,” the government’s 2015 Energy Master Plan acknowledges severe drawbacks, specifically that dams would flood vast areas, severely alter river flow, and negatively impact the delta area, particularly rice production and fisheries. The analysis also acknowledges that ethnic minorities and rural populations will face the most severe impact, but without acknowledging the deeper cultural significance of the Salween and Kawthoolei. The Plan is, however, very clear on the incongruency between food and energy security:

The conflict between energy and food security was not unique to the Salween, but demonstrative of hydropower contradictions across the region that hegemonic discourse sought to obfuscate. While the ADB provided an incongruent technical logic, the regional expansion of hydropower was driven by foreign capital and technical capacity seeking investment opportunities. When accounting for the ecological damage and negative impact on food security, the longer-term economic case for hydropower did not stack up (Strangio Reference Strangio2021, Reference Strangio2023). For example, there is mounting evidence that the impact of the LS2 dam in Cambodia (and dams in Laos) on fish stocks in the Mekong far outweighs the benefits of their generated electricity (Eyler Reference Eyler2019). Consequently, the hydropower lobby has had to resort to extensive greenwashing to rationalise proposed dams that aren’t economically justified (Shoemaker and Baird Reference Shoemaker and Baird2022).

For the Salween specifically, the tenuous economic justification for a multitude of dams reinforced the sense that hydropower plans were a marriage of convenience between foreign capital and a state intent on expanding control into Myanmar’s borderlands. This was increasingly evident with the status of electricity generation in Thailand, which would be the primary destination for exporting electricity from the Salween dams. By 2022, Thailand had significant excess electricity production with approximately 49,150 mw of installed capacity against peak demand of 32,250 mw, while Laos was continuing dam building in its quest to become “the battery of Asia” (Deetes and Lee Reference Deetes and Lee2023). Such a glaring contradiction, combined with the ADB’s admission of negative hydropower impacts, provided fertile grounds for civil society actors to construct a strong technical justification for Myanmar to not dam the Salween. The alliance behind the SPP, however, envisioned a far more counter-hegemonic project to not just oppose hydropower on the Salween but also reject the military and central state’s authority over the territory in question.

Civil Society and Contested Governance Along the Salween

The Salween provides a microcosm of the complex, contested nature of territoriality and governance throughout most of Myanmar, particularly the borderlands. The course of the Salween flows through territories controlled by the KNU, other EROs, and the central state, alongside various other armed groups. This heterogeneity is also reflected in the area’s ethnic diversity. As with ethnic Kachin and the KIO, the KNU is viewed by many ethnic Karen as their legitimate state actor and political representative: a relationship reinforced by the KNU controlling significant territory in eastern Myanmar, including along parts of the Salween (see Loong Reference Loong2025). Consequently, any attempt by the military and central state to extend their presence and control in such areas is prone to contestation. Over decades, the military has extended its presence into KNU-controlled territories, such as through conservation projects with international non-government organisations (INGOs) (Woods and Naimark Reference Woods and Naimark2020) and controversial road-building initiatives (Human Rights Watch 2016). More broadly, the central state’s approach to the ‘development’ of borderlands is widely viewed as an extractive relationship; foreign-backed hydropower projects in the peripheral serving the needs and interests of the core in central Myanmar are just one example (Meehan and Sadan Reference Meehan, Sadan, Simpson, Farrelly and Holliday2016).

The nature of contested governance and territoriality along the Salween revealed significant limitations of international aid actors and reinforced the importance of Myanmar’s endogenous civil society actors. One of the key limitations for international aid actors is their predisposition to work with a single state entity, which is the case in many contexts globally, but is problematic in a contested context like Myanmar. As happened in Kachin state with the INGO-supported ‘world’s largest tiger reserve’ facilitating the military’s territorial expansion and extraction (see KDNG 2010), similar issues were occurring along the Salween as conservation INGOs contributed towards military expansion into KNU territories (Woods Reference Woods2019). This has since been labelled “conservation as counterinsurgency” (Woods and Naimark Reference Woods and Naimark2020). INGOs are not a monolithic bloc, however, and a handful would play supporting roles in the establishment of the SPP. Many endogenous civil society actors, particularly those with ethnic minority links, were overall far more cognisant of governance and territorial dynamics. In the case of the Salween, KESAN was a central example that not only represented ethnic Karen interests, but also had a nuanced understanding of and working relationship with the KNU. This would prove critical for the creation of the SPP. As Cole (Reference Cole2020) highlights, activist networks, particularly KESAN, were critical in connecting the SPP and nuances of contested governance to global audiences.

A Project of Indigenous Self-determination and Sovereignty

The process behind the SPP’s establishment was a triumph of endogenous civil society actors’ assertiveness and agency in 21st-century Myanmar, despite the potential for significant international aid distortions. From the outset, KESAN was the key civil society protagonist behind the SPP. It was cognisant of the potential for ecological and cultural devastation that would exacerbate decades of military persecution towards ethnic Karen and potentially renew armed conflict. KESAN initially sought to mobilise an alliance against the proposed Hatgyi dam, a project that garnered increased attention in the mid-2000s, but it continues to face delays amid staunch opposition. Instead, KESAN’s focus evolved into broader opposition against any large-scale hydropower on the Salween. The alliance included like-minded civil society actors, local communities that would be impacted, and the KNU. The campaign involved linking with the broader Save the Salween Network and Burma Rivers Network, both significant civil society coalitions opposing large-scale hydropower (Bright Reference Bright, Middleton and Lamb2019). Like in the Myitsone campaign, there were also linkages with INGOs, most notably Earth Rights International, International Rivers, and Oxfam, but the resistance was locally led. These INGOs focused on amplifying the campaign and providing flexible financial support (Interviewee G, INGO staff); a marked contrast to various conservation INGOs, which extended central state authority. During an interview for this paper, a KESAN staff member explained the genesis of the SPP:

Despite the success of the Myitsone campaign, the alliance behind the SPP made a conscious choice to pursue a uniquely different process of ethnic emancipation. Such a direction was partly shaped by practical considerations; the Salween did not have the same national significance and symbolism as Myitsone. Thus, a national Salween campaign was less likely to resonate and attract the mass support that underpinned the Myitsone campaign. Instead, KESAN facilitated extensive discussions and consultations with local communities and the KNU to develop an appropriate strategy and tactics (Interviewee H, Karen civil society actor). This would lead to a multi-faceted campaign, but the consultative and iterative process was critical for developing the concept of the SPP. The communities and actors involved did not just want to oppose hydropower: they wanted a project of self-determination to assert Karen and indigenous sovereignty that had been eroded by decades of military violence and territorial expansion. Although the SPP centred on Karen Indigeneity, it was a broader rejection of Burmese military oppression (Paul et al. Reference Paul, Roth and Sein Twa2023). As such, hydropower was viewed as yet another form of bureaucratic and epistemic violence guised as ‘development’ (Karen Rivers Watch Reference Karen2004).

The framing or vision of the SPP came to represent the antithesis of the military’s neoliberal violence and hydropower hegemony, to instead be a symbol of resistance and post-development in practice. Conceptually, the SPP is framed as a space for Karen ethnic emancipation; celebrating Karen culture, living in ecological harmony, and promoting peaceful coexistence, all of which preclude large-scale hydropower and other damaging development projects. Established in agreement with the KNU, the SPP is a rejection not just of the Myanmar military and government’s violence, but also their right to govern; creation of the SPP was a project of self-determination and Karen territorial sovereignty, rather than seeking a concession from the oppressive military and central state authorities. In practice, the SPP covers over 5,000 square-kilometres, most of which is in Mutraw district and is officially recognised by the KNU, who jointly administers it with local communities (Götz Reference Götz, Middleton and Lamb2019). The SPP also offers a vision for what post-development might look like in practice, a symbol of locally led resistance against global capital and its domestic allies. It has come to be framed as “conservation through self-determination” (Paul et al. Reference Paul, Roth and Sein Twa2023).

Although the creation of the SPP was the centrepiece of resistance to hydropower hegemony, it was complemented by other tactics centred on ideological contestation. From the beginning of opposition to the proposed Hat Gyi dam, an array of cultural events and ceremonies, plus small-scale protests, were conducted and disseminated through different channels: social media, websites, print and television. Such tactics were further enhanced by KESAN activists, most notably charismatic leaders SawFootnote ⁶ Paul Sein Twa and Saw John Bright; both regularly appeared in different media and produced nuanced, engaging analysis (see Sein Twa 2020). The former, who is the founder of KESAN, was recognised for his environmental advocacy with the Reference Cole2020 Goldman Environmental Prize. This array of tactics was to reinforce the ideological resistance to hydropower by emphasising the ethnic Karen connection to river and land, Kawthoolei, while raising the profile of the Salween both in Myanmar and internationally (Bright Reference Bright2021). The international focus, supported by allies such as International Rivers, sought to challenge the dominant discourse promulgated by the ADB and IHA in support of hydropower. Framing remained critical to these tactics, as activists continued to emphasise self-determination and ecological harmony, rather than descend into technical arguments about hydropower. In doing so, they avoided the state-capital efforts at transformismo, the assimilation of radical ideas (see Cox Reference Cox1983) into the policies of the hydropower supporters, particularly the extractive state and aligned capital interests. This resistance occurred, for example, through remaining committed to KESAN’s power analysis and framing, rather than aligning with the approaches proposed by INGOs that provided funding to support the establishment of the SPP. It is worth noting, however, that some of the INGOs supporting the SPP were committed to locally-led approaches, rather than imposing their ideas.

Precarity Amidst a Deeper National Reckoning

Since its inauguration in December 2018, the SPP has contributed to the Salween remaining free-flowing and advanced the possibilities of resistance across Myanmar. Although the SPP has not attracted the level of attention or popular support that the Myitsone campaign did domestically, it has become a model of ethnic emancipation and resistance to the military’s violent and extractive practices. While territoriality and governance have been deeply contested for decades, the SPP is unique in its peaceful assertion of what in many ways is a post-development vision; it rejects extractivism, instead opting for ecological harmony and social justice. As Riofrancos (Reference Riofrancos2020) argues, the contestation over the commons creates an opportunity to recast humans’ relationship with nature. Not only does it embody ethnic self-determination and sovereignty, but it also calls into question the extractive core-peripheral relationship that has underpinned the military’s post-independence rule of Myanmar. In doing so, the SPP builds upon and complements the myriad forms of resistance that are grounded in decades of opposing military rule, such as the networks associated with the Myitsone campaign. Over five years after the SPP was declared, the struggle has only intensified.

The future of the SPP remains precarious as Myanmar undergoes a nationwide reckoning against the military’s unrelenting violence. The unevenness and turbulence of Myanmar’s post-isolation years dramatically escalated in February 2021, as the military launched a coup in response to the NLD’s second consecutive landslide election victory the previous November. The ensuing nationwide resistance has been nothing short of remarkable and continues as of 2025. Creative and sustained forms of resistance, from a national civil disobedience movement to dynamic street protests, were soon met with extreme military violence. The SPP has been hit with multiple airstrikes that have killed scores and displaced thousands of people (ICCA 2021). Rather than acquiesce and accept military rule once again, national resistance has galvanised, involving the establishment of a National Unity Government in exile and a large number of People’s Defence Forces pursuing armed revolution (in addition to the ongoing ERO struggles). There are distinct parallels to the 1988 uprising (see Fink Reference Fink2009), but the current resistance is more widespread and sustained. As the revolution continues and liberates more territory from the junta, the SPP has taken on renewed significance as an example of self-determination that rejects the military’s territorial and governance assertions. Indeed, activists are not just calling for the military to go “back to the barracks” (Slow Reference Slow2023), but for a revolution of the mind to break free from military indoctrination (Chen Reference Chen2021).

Although its future hangs in the balance, the SPP is illustrative of civil society agency, subaltern resistance, and aid politics that are central to this paper. It demonstrated the importance of sustained resistance against the military, which has contributed to the assertiveness, creativity, and dynamism of civil society actors across Myanmar. This history of resistance informed the process and ultimately the vision for creating the SPP, a globally unique example of Indigenous self-determination and declaration of sovereignty against a colonially constructed and military-enforced state. Consequently, actors such as KESAN were not only able to mitigate the potentially distortionary impact of the post-isolation aid influx, but they actively leveraged international support towards realising the SPP. International aid is rightly criticised for its potentially depoliticising and technocratic approaches to inherently political development issues, but this should not obscure the agency of civil society actors in Myanmar (and elsewhere). The SPP and Myitsone are poignant examples not just of such agency, but also the uniquely counter-hegemonic potential of locally led subaltern resistance to reimagine governance and development.

The SPP and Myitsone campaigns are important for furthering understanding of how governing the commons can underpin emancipatory forms of resistance. This analysis builds upon the work of Kiik (Reference Kiik2016 and Reference Kiik2020), Woods (Reference Woods2011 and Reference Woods2019), Riofrancos (Reference Riofrancos2020), and others to understand how contesting the commons relates to conflict, governance, and development, alongside the importance of different alliances. Rather than centre the mechanics of resistance, this paper, through the lens of hydropower hegemony, has sought to re-emphasise the importance of ideological contestation and confrontation with the state/junta and capital. Both Myitsone and the SPP demonstrated the distinctly transformative potential of creative and dynamic opposition. This can often be uncomfortable for much of the international aid apparatus, which is often ill-equipped to navigate such contestation. Ultimately, the cases of Myitsone and the SPP presented in this paper are illustrative of the power in claiming the commons as a form of resistance, which is increasingly important as the post-coup revolution seeks to not just oust the junta, but also radically transform the realm of possibility across Myanmar.