Myanmar’s generals are betting on rare earths and Trump. The Quad just reminded them they are alone
Guest contributor
James Shwe
Myanmar’s new military chief, General Ye Win Oo, is gambling that rare earths and border trade can buy his regime a future.
His forces are throwing men, bombs and money into Kachin, Chin and Karen states – not only to repaint the map but to seize the rare‑earth belt along the Chinese border and choke the main corridors to India and Thailand.
Behind this is a political fantasy: reconquer the mines, reopen the gates, and walk into Washington offering “critical minerals” to the Trump administration as a strategic partner.
The May 26 foreign ministers’ meeting in New Delhi exposed just how outdated that fantasy has become.
Representing the Quad—the U.S., Japan, India, and Australia’s partnership for a free and open Indo-Pacific—the diplomats released a firm joint statement on Myanmar alongside a new critical minerals framework.
The message to the junta is blunt: the world will compete over Myanmar’s resources, but no one is ready to stand openly with the men in Naypyidaw.
The rare‑earth front line
Reuters reports that the military’s new offensives focus on three fronts: northern Kachin, western Chin, and the Karen border corridor.
In Kachin, the army is pushing toward the Chipwi–Pangwa belt, which produces a substantial share of the world’s heavy rare earths used in wind turbines and electric vehicle motors.
In Chin, airstrikes and ground assaults target a key logistics route supporting resistance forces and cross‑border lifelines into India.
In Karen, the army is once again attacking along the Myawaddy–Kawkareik highway, the main artery into Thailand.
None of this is random. The generals are trying to reestablish control over:
- the rare‑earth production system that feeds Chinese – and potentially Indian and other – supply chains; and
- the customs posts and trade gates that bring in hard currency and war supplies.
Resistance forces understand exactly what is at stake. The Kachin Independence Army (KIA), which took control of the Chipwi–Pangwa area in late 2024, says it has prepared defenses around those townships: “We will welcome them with the barrels of our guns,” KIA spokesperson Naw Bu told Reuters.
In Chin State, the Chin National Front (CNF) has made tactical withdrawals from Falam and Tonzang under heavy aerial bombing, but makes clear that this is about preserving strength, not conceding the front.
This is the resource frontline of the revolution. It is not only about who holds which town on the map; it is about who controls flows of minerals and money.
The Trump bet – and why it is delusional
From Naypyidaw, the calculation looks simple. Rare earths are now a strategic commodity. The United States is locked in long‑term competition with China. The Quad is building new tools to secure critical minerals.
If the junta can reconquer the Kachin belt and secure the trade corridors, they think they can present themselves to Washington as an indispensable partner in the supply chain – especially under a Trump administration that defines China as its primary strategic rival.
There is even commentary arguing that Myanmar’s critical minerals can give India and the United States extra leverage against Beijing, with India potentially serving as an intermediary to resources under KIA influence rather than junta control.
Seen from Naypyidaw, this sounds like an invitation: “If we deliver the minerals, someone will have to deal with us.”
But politics in Washington and other Quad capitals has moved on. The BURMA Act and related legislation include hard‑wire sanctions and restrictions on dealing with the Myanmar military and its extractive‑sector front companies.
Congress has mandated sanctions against senior commanders and against military‑owned enterprises, and prohibits U.S. assistance from reaching the junta’s structures.
Any administration that tried to openly cut a rare‑earths deal with Naypyidaw would walk straight into a buzzsaw of legal and political opposition.
The junta’s strategy is not a masterstroke. It is a misreading of the calendar.
They are gambling on a world that existed before the coup – a world in which Myanmar’s generals could still sell “stability” to great powers. That world ended in February 2021.
What the Quad actually said about Myanmar
This is where the May 26 Quad statement matters. In New Delhi, the foreign ministers of the United States, Japan, India and Australia did three things at once: pushed forward cooperation on critical minerals, reaffirmed their broader agenda, and issued a clear paragraph on Myanmar.
On Myanmar, they said:
“We remain concerned by the continuing conflict in Myanmar and its impact on the region. We reaffirm our support for ASEAN’s efforts and call for the immediate cessation of violence; the release of those unjustly detained; a conducive environment for the delivery of humanitarian assistance; and dialogue between all parties and affected groups involved in the conflict. We are also concerned about the impact of the crisis on regional security and the spread of transnational crimes.”
For Burmese readers, several points are crucial.
First, the Quad explicitly frames the situation as a continuing conflict, not as a “stabilized” country under the junta. That language denies the generals the political recognition they crave.
If you are presiding over a “continuing conflict” that threatens regional security and fuels cross‑border crime, you are a problem to be managed, not a partner to be rewarded.
Second, they repeat the core demands that the resistance and civil society have been making since 2021: stop the violence, release unjustly detained people, create conditions for humanitarian assistance, and pursue inclusive dialogue among all parties.
This is exactly the opposite of the junta’s current strategy of intensified airstrikes, mass detentions and blocking aid.
Third, they root their approach in the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) efforts and U.N. Security Council resolution 2669, rather than in any unilateral deal with the generals.
That matters. It means the diplomatic “operating system” is still built around pressure on the junta and engagement with broader stakeholders, not around legitimizing Min Aung Hlaing’s pro-military administration.
This is also not an open endorsement of the National Unity Government (NUG) or the resistance. Diplomats almost never talk that way in public as long as they think there is any chance of negotiation space.
But equally, it is a long way from the kind of language you would use if you were getting ready to embrace the generals as your rare‑earths partners.
How Burmese should read these words
This is where we, as Burmese, need to stop hurting ourselves with our own pessimism.
Every time a careful statement like this comes out, a loud minority rushes to the same conclusion: “See, they did not say ‘NUG’, so they are betraying us. The international community is useless. No one will ever help.”
Much of this comes from people with little or no experience actually advocating to foreign governments, but with very strong opinions about what “real support” should look like.
That defeatism is a gift to Naypyidaw.
We should read the Quad paragraph differently:
- As long as no major government is willing to openly endorse the junta, the generals have not won. They are stuck in limbo: powerful enough to kill, too toxic to be recognized.
- Carefully drafted concern, repeated year after year, is not nothing. It is the diplomatic “floor” on which sanctions, arms embargoes, and legal actions are built.
- Open endorsement of the resistance is unlikely to appear in a neat sentence in a communiqué. That is not how diplomacy works. What matters is where money flows, which actors are invited into meetings, whose passports are stamped, and whose accounts are frozen.
Our job is to turn every positive sentence – like “release those unjustly detained” and “cessation of violence” – into pressure, cases, and talking points.
We should be feeding these words back to embassies, parliaments and courts: “You said this. Now act on it.”
Hun Sen’s lesson and the extraction trap
To see how this pressure works over time, look at Cambodia. Hun Sen is no democrat. Yet under sustained regional and international scrutiny, his government has taken steps such as releasing long‑time rival Kem Sokha, at least signaling a minimal willingness to ease visible repression.
It is cosmetic and self‑serving – but it proves that even entrenched strongmen feel the need to adjust when legitimacy matters for their survival.
Myanmar’s junta is moving in the opposite direction: more airstrikes, more burned villages, more prisoners, more cross‑border crime.
They are trading away the country’s future for a handful of rare‑earth contracts and the hope of a handshake photo with a foreign leader.
In my recent Asia Times op‑ed, I argued that our real enemy is the extraction economy: the system that treats gas, jade and rare earths as more valuable than the people who live on the land.
The REE offensive in Kachin, and the bombing of corridors in Chin and Karen, are the latest expression of that logic.
Using diplomacy instead of cursing it
For the revolution, three things follow.
First, the current offensives in Kachin, Chin and Karen states are a sign of desperation, not confidence.
The junta is bleeding legitimacy and trying to compensate with minerals and trade routes. That should stiffen our resolve, not weaken it.
Second, the Quad’s Myanmar language shows that the door to open recognition of the junta remains firmly shut – even as those same countries compete over critical minerals.
That contradiction is something we can exploit, by constantly insisting that any engagement on resources must go through legitimate, representative structures.
Third, we need to stop treating every cautious diplomatic statement as betrayal, and start treating them as tools.
Words like “cessation of violence”, “release of the unjustly detained”, “humanitarian access” and “concern about transnational crimes” are not magic.
But they are legal hooks and political levers. They are how sanctions are justified, how court cases are built, how arms sales are blocked.
If we don’t use those tools, others – including the junta’s lobbyists – will happily define them for us.
The generals are betting our country on a handful of rare‑earth mines and a fantasy about Trump.
The Quad, Hun Sen’s maneuvers, and the legal reality in Washington all tell the same story: they are alone, and they are running out of cards.
Our task is not to wait for a perfect sentence praising the resistance.
It is to use every imperfect sentence condemning the junta, every reference to humanitarian access and detainees, every concern about “regional security and transnational crimes”, to tighten the noose.
That is what real advocacy looks like. It is slower and more frustrating than social‑media outrage.
But if we do it well, it is how we make sure that when the world comes for Myanmar’s resources – and it will – it finds a Myanmar where people, not minerals, come first.
James Shwe is a Myanmar American professional engineer and advocate for democracy in Myanmar, affiliated with the Los Angeles Myanmar Movement.
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