Soldier-spies in Myanmar help pro-democracy rebels make significant gains

The BBC has found that Myanmar’s once formidable army is falling apart from within – filled with spies secretly working for pro-democracy rebels.

A BBC World Service investigation has revealed that the military has full control over less than a quarter of Myanmar’s territory.

The junta still controls major cities and remains “extremely dangerous”, according to the UN special envoy on Myanmar. But it has lost significant territory over the past 12 months.

Military spies are known as “watermelons” – green on the outside, rebel red on the inside. Outwardly loyal to the army but secretly working for pro-democracy rebels whose symbolic color is red.

One chief based in central Myanmar says it was the military’s brutality that prompted him to switch sides.

“I saw the bodies of tortured civilians. I shed tears,” says Kyaw (not his real name). “How can they be so brutal against our own people? We are meant to protect civilians, but now we are killing people. This is no longer an army, this is a force that terrorizes.”

The United Nations says more than 20,000 people have been detained and thousands killed since the military seized power in a February 2021 coup — which sparked the rebellion.

Kyaw initially thought about deserting the army, but decided with his wife that becoming a spy was “the best way to serve the revolution”.

When he feels safe to do so, he leaks internal military information to the People’s Defense Forces (PDF) – a network of civilian militia groups. Rebels use intelligence to ambush forces or avoid attacks. Kyaw also sends them part of his salary, so that they can buy weapons.

Spies like him are helping the Resistance achieve what was once unimaginable.

The BBC assessed the balance of power in more than 14,000 village groups by mid-November this year, and found that almost four years after the conflict began, the military has full control over only 21% of Myanmar’s territory.

Investigations show that ethnic armies and a coalition of resistance groups now control 42% of the country’s land. Most of the remaining area is disputed.

Watermelon intelligence leaked from within the military is helping to strike a balance. Two years ago, the resistance established a special unit to manage the growing network of spies and recruit more.

Agents like Win Aung (not his real name) collect watermelon leeks, verify them where possible, and then hand them over to rebel leaders in the relevant area.

He is a former intelligence officer who joined the resistance after the coup. He says he is now getting new watermelons every week and social media is a major recruitment tool.

He says his spies range from low-ranking soldiers to high-ranking officers. They also claim to be watermen in the military government – ​​”from ministries to village heads”.

They go through a strict verification process to ensure that they are not double agents.

Motivations for becoming a spy vary. While in Kyaw’s case it was anger, for the man we’re calling “Mo” – a corporal in the navy – it was simply a desire to survive for his young family.

His wife, who was pregnant at the time, encouraged him to do so, convincing him that the army was losing and that he would die in the battle.

He began leaking information about weapons and military activities to the Watermelon Unit.

Pro-democracy rebel leader Dewa says this kind of intelligence is important.

The ultimate goal of his resistance unit is to take control of Yangon, Myanmar’s largest city and his former home. But they are very far away.

The military holds most of the major urban areas – home to vital infrastructure and revenue.

“Invading and capturing (Yangon) is easier said than done,” Dewa says. “The enemy will not give it up easily.”

Unable to physically enter the city, Dewa directs targeted attacks by underground cells in Yangon using watermelon intelligence from his jungle base.

In August we saw him making one such call. We were not given details but were told that it was a directive for an assassination attempt on a colonel.

“We will do this within the enemy’s security parameters,” he told them. “Be careful, the enemy is losing ground in every direction,” he told them, telling them that this meant they were more likely to be alert for infiltrators and spies.

Deva says that many major attacks carried out by his unit have been the result of secret information.

“We started with nothing and now look at our success,” says Dave.

But it comes at a cost. As Navy corporal-turned-spy Moe discovers, watermen have to live in fear on both sides.

Deployed from Yangon to Rakhine – a border region where the army is fighting an ethnic group on the side of the resistance – he had to live with the terror that his intelligence might mean he was attacked.

In March this year, their anchored ship was attacked by a projectile missile, which was followed by open firing. “There was no place to run. We were like rats in a cage.” Seven of his fellow soldiers were killed in the rebel attack.

“Our ability to protect (the fish) is very limited,” Win Aung admits. “We cannot announce publicly that they are watermelons. And we cannot send our forces to attack a particular military convoy.” Can’t stop from.”

He says that when this is explained to the watermelons, they do not waver. Some people have even responded: “When that moment comes, don’t hesitate, shoot.”

But sometimes spies are unable to bear the danger.

When Mo was about to be sent to another dangerous front line, he asked the watermelon unit to smuggle him into a resistance-controlled area. They do this using an underground network of monasteries and safe houses.

He left at midnight. The next morning, when he did not report for duty, soldiers came to the house. They interrogated his wife Cho, but she remained silent.

After running for several days, Mo reached a base in Dewa. Deva thanked him over the video call before asking him what role he wanted to play next. Mo replied that, given his young family, he would like a non-combat role and would instead share his knowledge of military training.

A few weeks later he went to Thailand. Cho and the children also fled their home and hope to eventually join him and build a new life there.

The army is aggressively attempting to reclaim lost territory by carrying out deadly bombings. With Chinese and Russian-made fighter planes, it has the upper hand in the air. It knows that the Resistance is far from being a homogeneous group and is trying to exploit the divisions among them.

UN Special Envoy Tom Andrews says, “As the junta loses control, their brutality increases. It’s getting worse. Loss of life… brutality, torture as they lose ground. Are, literally and figuratively.”

The army is also cleaning watermelons.

“When I heard about the sweep, I stopped for a while,” Kyaw says. He says that to avoid unwanted attention he always acts like a staunch supporter of the army.

But he is scared and doesn’t know how long he can remain hidden. Defection is not an option, as he worries about abandoning his aging parents, so for now, he continues to work as a military spy, hoping the day will come when the revolution will end.

If and when that day comes, watermen like Kyaw and Moe will not be forgotten, Win Aung pledged.

“We will treat them with respect, and allow them to choose what they want to do next with their lives.”

The army did not respond to the BBC’s request for an interview.

About data:

Researchers commissioned by the BBC interviewed multiple sources from 12 February to 13 November 2024 for each of more than 14,000 village groups to assess the level of military control in their area.

The names and boundaries of village groups were obtained from Myanmar Information Management Unit, or MIMU, Which is organized by the United Nations Development Program (UNDP).

In every case, the research team spoke to at least one source with no official ties to the military or the opposition – such as academics, charity workers, journalists and local residents.

When sources provided conflicting information for a village group, unrelated sources were given priority and further cross-referenced with media reporting.

The responses were divided into three possible categories of control:

• military: The army is present and active in the area. It operates a local administration or provides some public services, all of which are normally functioning.
• Contested election: The army is present in the region, but there are some limits to its effective control. This may include areas where general administration and public services are not fully operational, or where the military divides administration with regional ethnic armed forces. It also includes areas where opposition forces can enter and exit, and where skirmishes occur between opposing forces.
• Resistance groups and ethnic armies: The army has been largely absent and has not taken any action on the ground for more than three months. Civil services may be provided by resistance forces, ethnic armies, or a civilian government, possibly supported by rebel armed militias.

Some parts of the country are designated as forest and have not been mapped into village clusters. They have distinct governance structures, primarily concerned with resource extraction and conservation. The BBC has chosen to focus on areas of Myanmar that have clearly defined systems of governance.

Additional reporting by Becky Dale, Maskin Lider, Phil Leak, Callum Thomson, Pilar Tomas, Charlotte Attwood and Kelvin Brown. Methodological support by Professor Lee Jones, Queen Mary University of London.