Myanmar has never been safe for its own people—least of all when the military rules. Yet under the military, the country has always been a safe haven for criminals. From drug kingpins to warlords, the generals have sheltered them for decades. And today, the country has become the perfect refuge for scam lords and their accomplices.
The previous ruling regime refused to extradite reputed opium lord Khun Sa after he surrendered to the regime in January 1996. The then foreign minister of the regime, Ohn Gyaw, clearly stated: “There is no question of extradition with any country.” The drug kingpin had been indicted by the US Justice Department in March 1990.
The regime led by Senior General Than Shwe provided a safe and peaceful refuge in Yangon for the wanted drug lord, replete with 24/7 state security, until his death in 2007.
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Today, almost three decades later, this tradition persists fully intact under the current military regime led by another infamous general, Min Aung Hlaing.
However, since the US announced the creation of the Scam Center Strike Force, dedicated to dismantling transnational Chinese criminal fraud gangs in Southeast Asia, on Nov. 12, the generals in Naypyitaw have grown nervous.
The reason for the generals’ anxiety is not hard to see. Naypyitaw’s military leadership and its security apparatus know that the US Scam Center Strike Force is not a symbolic gesture. It is aimed directly at the criminal networks they depend on—networks that stretch from Chinese syndicates to Myanmar’s militias and Border Guard Forces.
Just three days after the creation of the strike force, on Nov. 15, junta chief Min Aung Hlaing appeared in Hpa-an, capital of Karen State. There, he declared that online scam centers in the state would be “completely eradicated,” calling their removal a “national duty.”
It was a convenient performance. After his declaration, the regime staged raids on Shwe Kokko in Myawaddy Township—a notorious scam hub—together with the Border Guard Force (BGF). Before that, they had already put on a show, claiming to dismantle KK Park, another infamous scam compound in the township.
On Nov. 18, the military’s spokesperson accused the US of possibly harboring a hidden agenda behind the formation of the Strike Force. They suggested that this was about more than just fighting online fraud.
It seems they have good reason to be worried. Because they likely fear the US operation will expose how deeply Myanmar’s armed actors are entangled in a vast criminal ecosystem.
Their fear is telling. They are worried because they are part of the very network now coming under international scrutiny: the online scam economy that links Chinese criminal syndicates, Myanmar’s border militias and the junta itself.
What happens if the US moves more aggressively against figures like Karen State Border Guard Force (BGF) leader Colonel Saw Chit Thu, who stands at the center of this web? Has Myanmar seen this kind of international pressure on major crime figures before? It has. And the past offers a very clear warning.
The Strike Force brings together the US Attorney’s Office in Washington, the Department of Justice’s Criminal Division, the FBI and the US Secret Service. It is backed by the State Department, the Treasury’s Office of Foreign Assets Control (OFAC) and the Department of Commerce.
Crucially, Washington has made one thing clear: the Strike Force will use “all tools” available to dismantle scam centers.
The core goal is clear: to crack down on Chinese criminal gangs operating across Myanmar, Laos and Cambodia, and their scam centers, which have defrauded Americans of billions of dollars.
Which brings us directly back to Myanmar’s borderlands, where generals make millions from scam centers
When China cracked down on online fraud syndicates along the China-Myanmar frontier in 2023, many of those networks migrated south, toward the Thai-Myanmar border.
Chinese-led scam gangs relocated and expanded in and around Myawaddy, operating from compounds such as Shwe Kokko and KK Park. Scam centers had existed there already—around 11 in 2021—but after the 2021 coup, reports suggest the number surged to at least 27, and possibly as high as 40.
Who controls those areas? Who collects protection money and shields the scam operations?
The answer is known: the junta-aligned Democratic Karen Benevolent Army (DKBA), the BGF and their commanders, particularly Col. Saw Chit Thu.
For this reason, the US sanctioned Saw Chit Thu and his two sons in May, accusing them of involvement in online scams harming US citizens. The BGF itself was designated a transnational criminal organization. And when the Strike Force was announced, four senior leaders of the DKBA were sanctioned, too.
The generals in Naypyitaw have taken these moves as a sign that the US is determined to attack online scam syndicates head-on. In 2024 alone, Americans were defrauded of at least US$10 billion. Members of Congress, alarmed by the scale of the theft and the human trafficking behind it, have been pushing for rapid, decisive action.
In this environment, the positions of Saw Chit Thu, the BGF and the DKBA are precarious. Stronger US action is almost inevitable. And these groups are financially and politically connected to the junta.
Researchers say the scam networks share their profits with the military regime. The US Institute of Peace (USIP), for example, estimates that Saw Chit Thu’s BGF alone earns around $192 million a year from Shwe Kokko—and must hand over half of that to the junta.
At a recent US congressional hearing on Myanmar, lawmakers stated plainly that Myanmar’s generals are profiting directly from scam syndicates.
The result is clear enough: Vast sums of foreign currency flow from scam centers through the BGF and DKBA into the junta’s coffers, where they are used to fund military operations against resistance forces and civilians across the country—and have done for years.
US Under Secretary for Terrorism and Financial Intelligence John Hurley underlined this point, saying that the money generated by these fraud networks is fueling Myanmar’s civil war. Scam centers, in other words, are not just criminal enterprises—they have become a financial pillar of the junta’s war machine.
Which leads to a sharp question: What happens if Washington demands that the junta hand over figures like Saw Chit Thu and others involved in fraud networks? Will the generals surrender them as they did with Kokang leader Bai Suocheng when China demanded action? Or will they, once again, offer protection?
Under the generals’ protection
Myanmar’s generals have a long record of shielding wanted criminals from international justice.
In 1996, the then-military government secretly brought drug kingpin Khun Sa—on whom the US government had placed a $2-million bounty—to Yangon. He was housed under tight military protection in a secure location.
Khun Sa’s primary condition was simple: He did not want to be handed over to the US. In exchange, he promised to disarm his Mong Tai Army, which had nearly 15,000 troops. According to former deputy Military Intelligence chief Major General Kyaw Win, Khun Sa sent his trusted uncle, Khun Sai, to convey this proposal to the generals. Kyaw Win later recounted this episode in one of his articles on Khun Sa.
The arrangement was overseen mainly by Military Intelligence chief General Khin Nyunt, with the approval of junta leader Senior General Than Shwe. In January 1996, after Khun Sa surrendered, Kyaw Win was tasked with spiriting him out of his base at Ho Mong by helicopter and plane so that no one would know.
In his autobiography, former spy chief Khin Nyunt recalled that the US requested Khun Sa’s extradition. He argued that because Myanmar had no extradition treaty with the US, and because Khun Sa had formally surrendered as part of a disarmament deal, he was no longer viewed as a criminal but as someone the government was obligated to protect.
When Khun Sa arrived in Yangon and met Khin Nyunt, he reportedly prostrated himself before the intelligence chief. Khin Nyunt recalled telling him he could not accept such respect from an older man. Khun Sa replied that, under Shan custom, one may bow to one’s leader and benefactor.
The result? Under the name U Htet Aung, Khun Sa lived peacefully with his four young mistresses in Yangon until his death in 2007, protected by the military government. The regime even provided him with covert security escorts, including on leisurely trips to places like Chaungtha Beach.
Military complicit in crimes
Khun Sa was not the only crime boss to receive such favors. Over the decades, Myanmar’s generals have repeatedly offered safe haven to drug lords and criminal leaders, granting them not only shelter but also permission to traffic and produce narcotics. In return, the regime reaps economic benefits and political leverage.
After the 1988 coup, under Than Shwe and Khin Nyunt, the junta signed ceasefire agreements with various ethnic armed groups. Some of these groups were quietly allowed to continue cultivating and trafficking opium.
One such group was the United Wa State Army (UWSA), which emerged as one of the largest traffickers of heroin and methamphetamines in Southeast Asia. Following its ceasefire with the junta, the Wa were permitted to maintain their narcotics operations under the pretext of keeping the peace. UWSA leader Bao Youxiang and other Wa commanders have been indicted in US courts, yet enjoy de facto protection inside Myanmar.
This practice did not begin with Than Shwe. It dates back to General Ne Win, mentor to Khin Nyunt.
From the early 1960s into the 1970s, Ne Win relied on local paramilitary groups known as Ka Kwe Yay to counter communist insurgents. Many of these groups descended from Kuomintang remnants that had retreated into Myanmar, making them useful as anti-communist proxies.
In return, Ne Win granted them the right to traffic opium. On occasion, the Myanmar military itself helped transport the drugs. Among the ranks of these paramilitaries were men who would later become infamous drug lords: Lo Hsing Han, Khun Sa, Maha Sang. Ne Win effectively allowed them to build narcotics empires as tools in his war against the communists. Lo Hsing Han, too, later enjoyed a quiet life in Yangon.
Following his mentor’s logic, Khin Nyunt used similar methods—not only in the name of “peace,” but as a political strategy, balancing armed groups against democratic opposition movements in urban areas that challenged the regime after the 1988 coup.
The pattern is consistent: Whenever the generals play political games against their rivals, they lean on local armed groups. In return, those groups are allowed to profit from narcotics and other criminal enterprises.
Today’s coup leader, Min Aung Hlaing, is no exception. In Karen State, the BGF and DKBA shield him from resistance forces. Because they provide this protection, he conveniently pretends not to know about their partnerships with Chinese online scam syndicates. In reality, both he and his military benefit from them financially.
Under successive military regimes, Myanmar has repeatedly become a safe haven for drug lords, crime bosses and fugitives. The generals who protect them are not neutral guardians of stability; they are themselves criminals—perpetrators of war crimes and human rights abuses. Now, in the new era of digital crime, they are also pocketing millions of dollars in kickbacks from online scam syndicates.
That is why they are afraid of the Scam Center Strike Force. Their fear is not ideological; it is personal. They know that if Washington truly follows the money, its trail will lead straight to their doorsteps.
The coming months will show how far the US is willing to go in dismantling the scam networks embedded in Myanmar’s borderlands. As the scam lords are hunted, we may likely see which shadowy figures—generals, militia leaders, brokers—are pulled into the light alongside them.
Watch a video presentation of this commentary on The Irrawaddy’s Opinion Talk.
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