Sure A Not

The Myanmar military is suffering defections from its forces and is finding it hard to recruit. In exclusive interviews, newly-defected soldiers tell the BBC that the junta, who seized power in a coup two years ago, is struggling to suppress the armed pro-democracy uprising.

“No-one wants to join the military. People hate their cruelty and unjust practices,” says Nay Aung. The first time he tried to leave his base he was badly beaten with a rifle butt and called a “traitor”.

He managed to escape the second time and flee across the border to Thailand with the support of opposition groups.

“One of my friends is in the resistance,” he says. “I called him and he told people here in Thailand about me. I arrived here with their help.”

He’s now living in a safehouse along with 100 other newly-defected soldiers and their families. These men, who refused to fight their own people, are now in hiding so we are not using their real names. They’re being housed and protected by the very resistance movement they were ordered to fight.

Since the military seized power in a coup in February 2021, more than 13,000 soldiers and policemen have defected, according to the exiled National Unity Government of Myanmar (NUG). They are offering cash incentives and support to try and get more soldiers and police officers to switch sides.

At 19, Maung Sein is the youngest in the safehouse. He joined the military when he was just 15 years old.

“I admired the military,” Maung Sein says, and he wanted to make his family proud. But the military’s violent crackdown on the nationwide uprising demanding democracy has dramatically changed people’s view of men in uniform.

“We saw online people calling us ‘military dogs’,” he says – the animal term is one of the biggest insults in Myanmar. “That made me sorry and sad.”

Maung Sein says foot soldiers like him couldn’t disobey “orders from above” to “kill civilians and burn villages”.

But he also left because he thinks the military is in a weak position.

Ethnic armed organisations in the border regions alongside a network of civilian militia groups, called the People’s Defence Forces (PDF), are proving to be a much stronger force than many expected and the Myanmar military has lost control of large parts of the country.

In Magway Division and Sagaing Division, places that previously provided the military with many recruits, young people are instead joining the civilian militia.

Before managing to defect, Maung Sein’s unit was ordered to “attack and destroy” a PDF training camp.

The operation didn’t go well. Seven of his fellow soldiers were killed before they were ordered to retreat. “They [the PDF] have a better strategy,” he says, “which makes them stronger.”

The PDF enjoys widespread public support and villagers provide intelligence about the military’s movements and shelter the young militia fighters.

Capt Zay Thu Aung spent 18 years in the air force. He defected a year after the coup in February 2022.

“They are under attack across the country,” he says, reflecting on the state of Myanmar’s army, “and they don’t have enough men to fight back.”

This is why, he says, the military is increasingly using the air force.

In recent months the military has carried out devastating air strikes across the country. Since January there have been more than 200 reports of air attacks. The deadliest airstrike hit the Pa Zi Gyi village in Sagaing region in April, killing more than 170 people, including many women and children.

“Without the air force, it’s very likely that the military will fall,” Capt Aung predicts.

Like the other defectors, everyone in his family was proud of him when he was chosen as an air force cadet. In those times, he says, it was an honour to be part of Myanmar’s military. The coup, he says, “pulled us down the abyss”.

“Most of the people I lived with in the air force were not bad people. But since the coup, they’ve been acting like monsters.”

He’s the only one in his unit who has defected, though. Most of his friends have “kept fighting against my people”, he says.

Despite the Myanmar military’s critical role in the country’s affairs, its exact size is unknown. Most observers estimate at the time of the coup it was around 300,000 but now is much lower.

The resistance has used new technologies like video games alongside traditional crowdfunding mechanisms to raise money, much of it individual donations from the diaspora.

They have managed to raise significant sums this way but they lack access to military grade weapons or fighter jets.

The National Unity Government has offered to pay $500,000 (£405,000) to regime pilots or sailors who defect with a military aeroplane or navy vessel, but so far no-one has done this.

Myanmar’s War in the Air

With the Myanmar military strategy turning increasingly to the air, with devastating consequences, the BBC follows those fighting back.

Watch on iPlayer (UK only)

And on BBC News on Sat 3 Jun at 04:30, 23:30 and Sunday 4 Jun 02:30 BST

Or listen to Assignment on BBC World Service

Capt Aung says it’s not easy to leave after being “indoctrinated for years” and that he, too, feared being seen as a traitor.

“There is a saying in the Myanmar military that you leave when you’re dead.”

Before defecting, Capt Aung worked on a major upgrade of the capital Naypyidaw’s airport to prepare for the arrival of advanced fighter jets from Russia, the Sukhoi Su-30M.

Capt Aung takes us through the satellite imagery of the airport. He shows us where he used to live and where he helped build three open sheds to house the six Sukhoi Su-30M’s ordered.

These fighter jets represent “the most advanced aircraft in the arsenal of the Myanmar military,” says Leone Hadavi from Myanmar Witness, who has been monitoring the aircrafts the military is using.

He says the Sukhoi Su-30M is an advanced multi-role fighter jet that has both air-to-air and air-to-ground capabilities in the version that was exported to Myanmar.

It has a greater capacity to carry weapons than the Russian-made Yak-130s that have been regularly sighted in recent airstrikes.

Capt Aung says as part of the agreement two test pilots from Russia and a repair crew of 10 people would stay for “one year during the entire warranty period”. He was involved in building their accommodation.

Others from the Myanmar air force were sent to Russia. “Altogether more than 50 people were sent to be trained to operate these planes,” he tells us.

Two of the six fighter jets have arrived in Myanmar and been put on display at military parades. They have not yet been sighted in the conflict.

In the face of international sanctions and condemnation from its neighbours, the Myanmar military has become increasingly isolated. The latest round of UK sanctions in March attempted to target the military’s access to fuel.

But Russia – who has long-running ties with the Myanmar military – has stepped up to become their strongest foreign backer.

The United Nations Special Rapporteur for Myanmar, Tom Andrews, says Moscow is by far Myanmar’s largest arms dealer. According to his report released in May, Russia has shipped over 400 million dollars’ worth of arms to Myanmar since the coup.

These come from 28 Russian entities, including state-owned ones. The report says 16 of those suppliers have been sanctioned by some countries for their role in Russia’s war in Ukraine. And that these weapons have been used to “commit probable war crimes and crimes against humanity” in Myanmar.

In the air, the people’s resistance is trying to fight back with drones.

Khin Sein, 25, leads a team of female drone pilots who adapt civilian drones to drop home-made bombs on military targets.

She was a university student and took part in the mass protests sparked by the coup before taking up arms.

“We don’t have the resources like the military but we don’t dwell on this,” she says from her jungle camp.

“Compared with a plane, our drone is like a sesame seed. It can go far when you have many sesame seeds,” she says.

“If we fly high, like 300 metres above, they don’t even know that we are coming. So we can attack them effectively and they are scared of drones.”

From his hideout across the border in Thailand, Capt Aung now shares his air force intelligence with those like her, fighting for democracy.

“By listening to the sound at night, can we distinguish between a fighter jet and a civilian plane?” comes the crackled voice over Zoom in the back room of his house.

“We share our knowledge in the best way we can”, Capt Aung says after the meeting.

It is complex for him, “on a personal level, my brothers, friends and teachers whom I lived with, I have no hatred for them,” he tells us.

But this cause is bigger. “It’s not about individuals, we are fighting an institution.”

And he’s happy, he says because “I’m working for my country. I’ll support the revolution in whatever way I can until it’s over.”

For months on end, Australia’s most-decorated living soldier sat stoically in a Sydney courtroom as dozens of witnesses accused him of war crimes, bullying peers, and assaulting his mistress.

But Ben Roberts-Smith was not the one on trial.

The 44-year-old had brought the case, suing three Australian newspapers over a series of articles in 2018 which he says defamed him. He argues they ruined his life by painting him as a callous man who had broken the moral and legal rules of war, disgracing his country in the process.

But the media outlets say they reported the truth, and have set out to prove it.

It is the first time in history any court has been tasked with assessing allegations of war crimes by Australian forces.

Warning: This article contains descriptions of violence which readers may find upsetting.

Lasting 110 days and costing up to an estimated A$25m ($16.3m, £13.2m), the trial has heard extraordinary and at times bizarre evidence about every facet of Mr Roberts-Smith’s life.

It sparked a media frenzy, captured national attention, and has made Mr Roberts-Smith the public face of accusations of Australian war crimes in Afghanistan.

After sifting through volumes of evidence, this week a judge is due to deliver a verdict in the historic case.

When Mr Roberts-Smith finished his final tour of Afghanistan in 2012, he returned home a hero.

He received Australia’s highest military award – the Victoria Cross – for having single-handedly overpowered Taliban machine-gunners who had been attacking his Special Air Service (SAS) platoon.

More accolades and admiration followed. He was crowned Father of the Year in 2013, appointed to high-profile executive positions, given prestigious speaking engagements and featured in massive portraits in the Australian War Memorial.

But Mr Roberts-Smith’s shiny public image was shattered in 2018 when journalists Nick McKenzie, Chris Masters and David Wroe started publishing articles about his alleged misconduct in The Sydney Morning Herald, The Age and The Canberra Times.

The newspapers claim Mr Roberts-Smith was involved in six murders of unarmed prisoners or civilians while deployed in Afghanistan between 2009 and 2012 – which he strenuously denies.

According to the newspapers, these included a handcuffed farmer the soldier had kicked off a 10m cliff – a fall which knocked out the man’s teeth, before he was subsequently shot dead.

Another was a captured Afghan teenager so terrified a witness recounted him “shaking like a leaf”. He told the court Mr Roberts-Smith later claimed to have shot him in the head, boasting it was “the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen”.

The Federal Court also heard that Mr Roberts-Smith had used a machine gun to kill a captured fighter whose prosthetic leg was then taken as a trophy, and later used by troops as a drinking vessel. Other murders were ordered by him to initiate or “blood” rookies, the papers claim.

The Geneva Convention – international rules intended to limit the savagery of war – prohibits the torture, killing or cruel treatment of prisoners, while also offering protections to wounded and sick soldiers.

“Not a single one of the murders we allege… involved decisions that were made in the heat of battle… the ‘fog of war,'” said Nicholas Owens, a barrister for the newspapers.

But Mr Roberts-Smith says he has always honoured the rules of engagement. He argues five of the killings occurred legally during combat, and a sixth didn’t happen at all.

The former SAS corporal’s legal team argues the most serious allegations Mr Roberts-Smith faces were made up by jealous colleagues – “liars” and “gossips” – to smear him.

“What he did not expect was that having been awarded the Victoria Cross, he would have a target on his back,” his barrister Arthur Moses told the court.

The journalists had “jumped on the rumours like salmon jumping on a hook”, publishing them as fact, they said, arguing that the trial evidence – once weighed – would exposed them as inconsistent, “fanciful” and “salacious”.

To support their claims, the newspapers called witnesses including Afghan villagers, a federal minister, and many former or serving elite soldiers.

They ended up unearthing even more damaging allegations. One of Mr Roberts-Smith’s close friends – who gave evidence anonymously – said there were another three alleged murders in Afghanistan that Mr Roberts-Smith was accused of being involved in, in addition to those outlined in the newspapers’ case.

Much evidence was also devoted to claims Mr Roberts-Smith bullied peers. The war hero conceded he had punched a fellow soldier in the face in front of their entire patrol, but denied threatening another with “a bullet in the back of the head” if his performance didn’t lift.

But Mr Roberts-Smith’s versions of events were at other times corroborated by witnesses, along with official field reports, though the newspapers allege these were falsified to cover up crimes.

Astonishing evidence on other issues also emerged during the defamation case, including:

Mr Roberts-Smith also watched on as his ex-wife Emma described the moment a woman with whom he’d had an extra-marital affair turned up at the family home, unannounced and nursing a black eye, saying she had become pregnant with his baby.

The woman – whose identity is protected – cried on the witness stand as she recounted the evening when she alleges Mr Roberts-Smith punched her in a hotel room, after she had embarrassed him at an event. He denies this and claims her injury was caused by a fall at the event.

Mr Roberts-Smith has not been charged over any of the allegations and no findings have been made against him in a criminal court.

But the evidence also put a spotlight on the usually hidden world of the SAS.

In November 2020, a landmark report found credible evidence that Australian forces had unlawfully killed 39 civilians and prisoners in Afghanistan from 2007 to 2013.

The head of the Australian Defence Force said it laid bare an unchecked “warrior culture” among some soldiers – particularly within the SAS – who had allegedly taken “the law into their own hands”.

The trial heard from retired and serving SAS soldiers who said any potential misconduct was rarely reported due to a “code of silence” within the regiment, while others defended their actions as necessary.

Many giving evidence were there unwillingly, having been subpoenaed, and three refused to speak about some allegations fearing self-incrimination.

One soldier, who testified that he witnessed Mr Roberts-Smith execute someone, said he resented being compelled to give evidence against him.

“I still don’t agree with the fact [Mr Roberts-Smith] is here, under extreme duress, for killing bad dudes we went over there to kill,” he said.

Almost three years after the landmark Brereton Report, local media have reported more than 40 soldiers are being investigated for their roles in alleged war crimes, but charges have only been laid against one.

And so the judgement in Mr Roberts-Smith’s defamation trial is a huge moment for Australia – both legally and culturally – says Peter Stanley, the former principal historian at the Australian War Memorial.

Soldiers serving under Australia’s banner have almost certainly committed war crimes over the last century, he says, but up until this year none had ever been charged.

And while the broader population may not always agree with the wars Australia has fought, there has long been “great pride in the way in which [it] has fought – this is what’s known as the Anzac legend”.

“The Ben Roberts-Smith episode is just a precursor to the major series of war crimes investigations, allegations, prosecutions, and possibly convictions that we’ll see over the next few years,” he told the BBC.

“It certainly made [him] the litmus test.”

The judge – Anthony Besanko – will first decide if the articles are defamatory, and if so, he’ll then consider any defences.

In Australia defamation is a civil matter, meaning the burden of proof is lower than the “beyond a reasonable doubt” standard required during criminal cases. The newspapers only have to prove the allegations are more likely to be true than not.

They argue that proving even one of the six murders alleged, to that standard, could be enough to win the case.

But the law says Judge Besanko must take particular care in weighing the strengths and weaknesses of the evidence if there are grave consequences for those involved.

The criminal allegations being made by the media outlets fell “at the very highest end of objective seriousness… [and] strike at the very heart of Mr Roberts-Smith’s morality and humanity,” the soldier’s barrister Arthur Moses said in closing.

The stakes are also high for the newspapers, with experts saying a loss could result in the highest defamation payout in Australian history.

“We need to remind ourselves that the legal case is not a war crimes trial,” Mr Stanley says.

“[But] there’s a lot riding on this outcome – it’s not just the reputation of one man, it’s our faith in the defence force… and our faith in the system of media that we rely on to give us a truthful and accurate version of the world.”

A new national security law has come into effect in the Chinese territory of Macau, widening punishments for any opposition to Beijing.

The legislation puts greater emphasis on preventing foreign interference in the special administrative region.

It expands on legislation first introduced in Macau in 2009.

Macau’s government says the changes are in line with legislation in Hong Kong, where Beijing has strictly tightened control following political turmoil.

The original national security law laid out seven major crimes such as treason, subversion, theft of state secrets and foreign collusion – with punishments of up to 25 years in jail.

Another of these offences, secession, has now been expanded to cover non-violent acts.

Meanwhile, opposition to any central government department and the ideology in Beijing can be punished under the updated definition of subversion.

Macau police also now have the power to target suspects outside the city itself.

Critics say the new law severely restricts people’s liberties and rights in the territory.

Jason Chao, former president of pro-democratic political party the New Macau Association, called it “deeply concerning”.

“Local journalists described the current situation as the ice age and unfortunately the ice age is going to get colder,” he told BBC World Service’s Newshour programme.

“The most worrying point is that people would not know whether or not they were committing a crime if they tried to criticise the government. We have observed how the national security law in Hong Kong has been vaguely interpreted,” he said.

Mr Chao added that it was unclear whether the authorities of Macau or those of mainland China would come after those deemed to have broken the law.

The former Portuguese colony of 682,000 people occupies a small peninsula and two islands off China’s southern coast.

It has a separate legal system from the Chinese mainland and the city has capitalised on its long history as a gambling centre, drawing many visitors from China and Hong Kong.

Since the handover from Portugal in 1999, Macau’s legislature has largely rubberstamped Beijing’s orders.