Episode #330: Mission Aborted
“When President Bush called that morning and said, ‘Pull back [away from Myanmar],’ I just couldn't compose myself. I broke down in front of all the Marines, and so I had to run into the bathroom and I just cried and cried because,” says Mie Mie Winn Byrd. “I knew we had all the capability to help them, to relieve suffering and provide aid, but there was nothing I could do. It was heartbreaking for me at that moment… And I can't be breaking down in front of the Marines! So I had to run into the bathroom, and I had a good cry, abd I called my husband from there, and I said, ‘the President just called it off! The people are waiting for us, and they need our help. I feel so helpless.’”
In a profoundly moving and insightful conversation, Mie Mie Winn Byrd, a retired U.S. Army Lieutenant Colonel, recounts her experiences during Operation Caring Response, a U.S. military-led humanitarian relief mission in the wake of the Cyclone Nargis in 2008, This natural disaster, compounded by military indifference, claimed the lives of over 135,000 people and displaced more than two million in Myanmar’s Delta region. She draws parallels between that disaster and the devastating, 7.7 magnitude earthquake that recently struck central Myanmar. Through her firsthand account and expert analysis, Byrd sheds light on how the junta has systematically weaponized aid and obstructed assistance, compounding the suffering of its people.
In Operation Caring Response, Byrd was uniquely positioned as a U.S. Army officer with critical regional expertise, as she was born in Burma before immigrating to the U.S. She joined the task force at the request of U.S. military leadership, serving as an advisor to General John F. Goodman, who oversaw the operation. Though the U.S. had substantial assets nearby, Myanmar’s ruling junta allowed only five C-130 cargo flights per day and restricted deliveries to Yangon’s airport, preventing supplies from reaching the most affected areas. Over a period of two weeks, Byrd and her team watched in dismay as aid piled up on the tarmac and then began to disappear—not into the hands of victims, but likely into corrupt networks affiliated with the military. Despite persistent negotiation attempts, the military refused to allow the humanitarian aid team broader access, ultimately leading President George W. Bush to call off the mission.
Throughout the conversation, Byrd reflects on the mindset of the Burmese military that underpinned such callous indifference to the suffering of their own people. For example, her direct negotiations with senior junta officers, including General Myint Swe (now Acting President), revealed a deep and pervasive paranoia. She remembers Myint Swe visibly shaking during their meeting, terrified by the presence of the physically imposing American General Goodman, a former NFL player for the New Orleans Saints. Myint Swe was also consumed with irrational fears of a U.S. invasion despite repeated reassurances from American forces that they had purely humanitarian intentions. In addition, she explains that the Burmese military is trained to sever emotional ties with the civilian population, which engenders an elitist, detached mentality. In their worldview, the army does not serve the people, it rules over them, thus putting humanitarian assistance very low on the priority list. “They no longer have that [empathy]. And then it’s just reinforce, reinforce and reinforce… and they become monsters.”
The consequences of that conditioned inhumanity are painfully evident again in the aftermath of the recent earthquake, as a familiar script is playing out as was witnessed after Cyclone Nargis. Byrd draws a direct line between the military’s systemic cruelty then and now, including their practice of blocking relief, arresting young men and doctors, and even carrying out offensive operations in areas hit hard by the natural disaster.
Moreover, Byrd makes it clear that, in her opinion, the current military junta is neither a legitimate government—nor even a professional army. It is more a Mafia-like, organized crime syndicate. Rather than deliver aid, they hoard or repurpose it for their own use, and employ air power not in rescue missions, but in bombing runs. She talks about the military conscripting doctors and bombing disaster zones. In a particularly heinous act, following Cyclone Mocha in 2023, they deliberately released dam water at night in order to drown villages under the cover of darkness! This is just one example of how they weaponize natural disasters to punish, control or even eliminate populations they view as unsupportive.
Yet at the heart of Byrd’s message is also the courage, compassion, and organization of the Burmese people. In spite of the military’s sabotage, she has seen how they consistently rise to meet the challenge. For example, following Cyclone Nargis, the widespread civic mobilization that emerged then became a watershed moment for Myanmar’s civil society, laying the foundation for grassroots activism and opposition to military rule that continues today. In the current crisis, it is once again ordinary citizens, PDFs (People’s Defense Forces), and local volunteers who are delivering help, sometimes even using elephants to clear rubble due to lack of equipment … even as the military uses its helicopters to bomb civilians or reinforce its own facilities. She also praises the efforts of the National Unity Government (NUG), noting that within hours of the earthquake, they had convened emergency meetings, issued guidance, and allocated relief funds, even while operating under extreme constraints.
Echoing comments made by recent guests on the podcast, Byrd urges the international community to empower and resource Myanmar’s diaspora and civil society networks for distributing humanitarian assistance. These groups, she argues, have proven themselves capable of delivering aid to those in need, often at great personal cost, even to the point of selling their homes or working overtime in janitorial jobs just to fund resistance efforts. She says, “They open up their hearts, their purse, and they’re doing it again! I’m just so amazed and admire the Myanmar diaspora.” In sharp contrast, she warns that delivering well-intentioned assistance through the military is not only ineffective but actively harmful, as it only serves to boost the junta’s corruption, matériel, and its hunger for legitimacy. “If it goes through the military, it will be siphoned off, plundered… right now, the majority of the relief that is coming from overseas is all in Naypyidaw… and not so much to the areas that really need it.”
She also highlights a previously unavailable opportunity: two airports are now controlled by the opposition in Lashio and Thandwe, and these can provide entry points for international aid without needing to go through military-controlled Yangon. She calls on humanitarian agencies and foreign governments to seriously explore alternatives such as these, which have not existed in past disasters.
Byrd discusses the lack of “political will” in the international system to act boldly regarding Myanmar. Bureaucratic inertia, a lack of understanding and a fear of disrupting established diplomatic protocols often prevent effective intervention. She notes that even many global policymakers don’t know where Myanmar is on a map, let alone comprehend its complex dynamics and tumultuous recent history. Amid this ignorance and timidity, the military exploits international systems to legitimize itself.
Byrd does see some glimmers of light, however, in some media coverage, such as stories by Al Jazeera’s Tony Cheng. He managed to report from inside Myanmar after the quake, and she believes that with more reporting like his, public awareness can build pressure to change the political calculus.
Byrd turns to the geostrategic implications of Myanmar’s instability for the Indo-Pacific region. With its location at the intersection of South Asia, Southeast Asia, and China, she argues that a stable, democratic Myanmar is crucial for broader, regional peace. She warns that unchecked chaos leads to transnational crime, trafficking rings, and other malign forces taking root. And she singles out an important regional neighbor, Thailand, describing how Myanmar’s generals privately look down on Thai forces as inferior, despite their professional relationship. So she cautions Thailand’s military not to be used or manipulated by Myanmar’s junta, which exploits and ultimately disrespects even those who try to support it diplomatically.
Ultimately, Byrd’s core argument is that the resistance in Myanmar—powered by everyday people and supported by a courageous diaspora—is astonishingly close to turning the tide. Despite being pitted against a military propped up by the Chinese and Russians, the population has maintained morale, expanded control over territory, and seen growing defections from within the armed forces. The regime is crumbling under the weight of its corruption and brutality.
What the people of Myanmar need now, Byrd argues, is not weapons so much as humanitarian support and communication tools. Reliable, secure communications are critical for coordination and survival. Aid that avoids military channels and empowers grassroots networks can be the tipping point!
Byrd closes with an emotional call for international solidarity: “If the international community could just help them a little bit, I think that we can get to the end state.”