Spy soldiers in Myanmar are helping pro-democracy rebels make gains

Myanmar’s once formidable army is collapsing from within – filled with spies secretly working for pro-democracy rebels, the BBC has revealed.

The military only fully controls less than a quarter of Myanmar’s territory, a BBC World Service investigation has revealed.

According to the UN special rapporteur on Myanmar, the junta still controls major cities and remains “extremely dangerous”. But it has lost significant ground in the last 12 months – see the map below.

Scout soldiers are known as “Watermelons” – green on the outside, rebel red on the inside. Outwardly loyal to the military, but secretly working for the democratic rebels, whose symbolic color is red.

The major, based in central Myanmar, says the military’s brutality pushed him to defect.

“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 supposed to protect civilians, but now we are killing people. It is no longer an army, it is a force that terrorizes.”

More than 20,000 people have been detained and thousands killed, according to the UN, since the military seized power in a coup in February 2021, sparking an uprising.

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

If he deems it safe to do so, he passes on internal military information to the People’s Defense (PDF), a network of civilian militia groups. Insurgents use intelligence to ambush the military or evade attacks. Kyaw also sends them part of his salary so that they can buy weapons.

Spies like him are helping the resistance achieve the once unthinkable.

The BBC assessed the balance of power in more than 14,000 village groups as of mid-November this year and found that the military only fully controls 21% of Myanmar’s territory, nearly four years after the conflict began.

The investigation shows that ethnic armies and a handful of resistance groups now control 42% of the country’s territory. Much of the remaining area is contested.

Watermelon’s military leak helps tip the scales. Two years ago, the resistance created a specialized unit to manage the growing network of spies and recruit new ones.

Agents like Win Aung (not his real name) collect leaks about Watermelon, verify them where possible, and then pass them on to rebel leaders in the relevant area.

He is a former intelligence officer who defected to the resistance after the coup. He says they now get new watermelons every week and social media is a key recruitment tool.

Their spies, he said, ranged from low-ranking soldiers to high-ranking officers. They also claim that there are Watermelons in the military government – “from ministries to village heads.”

They go through rigorous vetting to make sure they are not double agents.

The motivations for becoming a spy vary. While in Kyaw’s case it was anger, for the man we call “Mo” – a Navy corporal – it was simply a desire to survive for the sake of his young family.

He was pushed to this by his wife, who was pregnant at the time, convinced that the military would lose and he would die in battle.

He began leaking information to the Watermelon unit about weapons and troop movements.

This kind of intelligence is very important, says Daeva, the leader of the pro-democracy rebels.

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

The military maintains most of the major urban areas – places of important infrastructure and income.

“It’s easier said than done to attack and occupy (Yangon),” says Daeva. “The enemy will not give it up easily.”

Unable to physically penetrate the city, Daeva from his base in the jungle directs targeted attacks by underground cells in Yangon using Watermelon’s intelligence.

In August, we witnessed his one such call. We were not informed of the details, but they said that they were directing an attempt on the colonel.

“We will do it within the parameters of the enemy’s security,” he told them. “Be careful, the enemy is losing in every direction,” he added, telling them that this meant they would most likely be on the alert for spies and spies.

Daeva says several of his unit’s major attacks were the result of tip-offs.

“We started with nothing, and now let’s look at our success,” says Daeva.

But it comes at a price. Watermelons must live in fear of both sides, as Moe’s spy-turned-navy corporal discovers.

Deployed from Yangon to Rakhine – a border region where the military is fighting an ethnic group that sides with the resistance – he had to live with the terror that his intelligence could mean he himself was the victim of an attack.

In March of this year, his ship, which was at anchor, was hit by a shell, followed by open fire. “There was nowhere to run, we were like rats in a cage.” Seven of his fellow soldiers were killed in a rebel attack.

“Our ability to protect (moles) is very limited,” Win Aung admits. “We cannot publicly state that they are Watermelons. And we cannot stop our forces from attacking any particular military convoy.”

He says that, however, when this is explained to the Watermelons, they do not hesitate. Some even replied: “If it comes to that moment, don’t hesitate, shoot.”

But there are times when spies can no longer be dangerous.

When Mo was scheduled to be sent to another dangerous front line, he asked Watermelon’s unit to transport him to a resistance-controlled area. They do this using an underground network of monasteries and safe houses.

He left in the dead of night. The next morning, when he did not show up for duty, soldiers came to the house. They questioned his wife, Cho, but she remained tight-lipped.

After several days on the run, Mo arrived at one of Daev’s bases. Daeva thanked him over a video call before asking him what role he wanted to play now. Moe responded that given his young family, he would prefer a non-combat role and would instead share his knowledge of military training.

A few weeks later he moved to Thailand. Cho and the children also ran away from home and hope to eventually join him and build a new life there.

The military is aggressively trying to recapture the lost territories, carrying out a wave of deadly bombings. With fighters of Chinese and Russian production, it has an advantage in the air. He knows that the resistance is far from a homogeneous group, and seeks to exploit the divisions between them.

“When the junta loses control, their brutality increases. It keeps getting worse. The loss of life…the brutality, the torture when they lose ground literally and figuratively,” says UN Special Rapporteur Tom Andrews.

The military is also cleaning up Watermelons.

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

But he’s scared and doesn’t know how long he can stay hidden. Escape is not an option as he worries he will abandon his aging parents, so for now he will continue to act as a military spy, hoping to see the day the revolution ends.

If and when that day comes, watermelons like Kyaw and Mo will not be forgotten, Win Aung vows.

“We will treat them with honor and let them choose what they want to do next with their lives.”

The military did not respond to a BBC request for an interview.

About data:

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

Names and boundaries of villages are taken from v The Myanmar Information Management Unit, or MIMU, which is conducted by the United Nations Development Program (UNDP).

In each case, the research team spoke to at least one source not officially affiliated with the army or the opposition – such as academics, charities, journalists and local residents.

When sources provided conflicting information for a village group, unaffiliated sources were prioritized and further cross-referenced with media reports.

Responses were divided into three possible control categories:

• Military: The military is present and actively working in the region. It runs a local administration or provides certain public services that function normally.
• Disputed: The military is present in the region, but there are limits to their effective control. This may include areas where the general administration and public services are not fully functional, or where the military shares administration with regional ethnic armed forces. It also covers areas where opposition forces can enter and exit, and where clashes between opposing forces take place.
• Resistance groups and ethnic armies: The military is largely absent and has not conducted operations on the ground in over three months. Public services may be provided by resistance forces, ethnic armies, or a civilian government, probably with the support of an armed insurgent militia.

Some parts of the country are marked as forests and are not mapped as villages. They have different administrative structures, which are mainly concerned with the extraction and conservation of resources. The BBC chose to focus on areas of Myanmar that have a clearly defined system of governance.

Additional reporting by Becky Dale, Muskin Lider, Hla Hla Win, Phil Leake, Callum Thomson, Pilar Thomas, Charlotte Atwood and Kelvin Brown. Methodological support from Professor Lee Jones of Queen Mary University of London.