As described above, armed conflict and ceasefire deals relying on economic incentives have spurred the growth of informal economies in Myanmar over several decades. A degree of stability in ceasefire areas has facilitated state-led development efforts focused on large-scale infrastructure and energy projects, as well as extractive industries. However, investments in welfare and social provisioning have lagged far behind, in particular in rural, conflict-affected, minority-dominated border areas such as Kayah state. The analysis sections below outline our empirical findings about the gendered effects of these larger economic and political processes. In turn, we describe how women’s experiences of development in Myanmar are shaped by unequal gendered divisions of labor leading to depletion; how women’s informal labor underpins economic reforms; and how access to and ownership of land in the context of economic restructuring is gendered and contributes to insecurity for women.
Gendered Divisions of Labor and Depletion
Development processes, including recent efforts made at consolidating the informal economy in the wake of armed conflict in Myanmar, are implemented in a complex—and largely unequal—gendered setting. As the 2014 census reveals, a majority of women in Kayah state are not engaged in the formal labor force, suggesting that women are instead shouldering extensive social reproductive burdens in sustaining their household needs. This includes unpaid and largely unacknowledged labor in the community and the household, such as childrearing, cooking, and cleaning. Social reproductive work is extensive and time-consuming work, especially so among poor and vulnerable groups where the negative effects of caretaking are amplified by a lack of material opportunities (True 2012, p. 163). As we develop in more detail below, major infrastructural developments in rural areas of the state have cut communities of from traditional livelihoods, pushed men into migration, and constrained women’s opportunities to take advantage of jobs in the formal sector by increasing their caretaking responsibilities (see Cornish and Ramsay 2018; Cornish 2017). It is against this background that Myanmar’s economic development has to be assessed.
In Kayah state, our interviews show that generations of conflict and under-development in rural communities have resulted in a stark division of labor. The time women spend on social reproductive work limits the time they spend on accessing education or paid employment. Heavy labor, like farming and water collection, exposes them to physical insecurities, including prolapsed uterus and sexual harassment (Ackerly and Attanasi 2009). The women we interviewed collected water and firewood, and were in many cases responsible for subsistence farming on land located a couple of hours walk from their houses. During the conflict years, the women we met all shared experiences of having to shoulder full responsibility for their family’s survival, as male family members either went into hiding or joined the uprising against the state military. In some villages, women had to feed both the rebel army and the state armed forces. This multiplied the pressure on the women to find ways to meet basic needs, for themselves as well as for the community at large. One Kayah woman living in a village outside the state capital Loikaw described her gendered responsibilities during the conflict years in the following way:
All the husbands, they hide in the jungle, and during that time, all the women remain in the village. So they are the ones who are responsible for everything. When the Burmese soldiers come, the women have to cook, and give them food, and everything they want. We face the threats. And also most of the [rebel] soldiers, they are also depending on me, for example if they need food, or other things, or want to hide the guns… But then the Burmese took everything, the house and all properties, like the barn and also the cows, and forced us to leave.Footnote 6
Most of the women we spoke to described feelings of exhaustion, fear, and stress, rooted in a gendered division of war-time labor that positioned women as responsible for their family’s survival.Footnote 7 The loss of farmlands, houses, water buffalos, and hens, made this at times an impossible task, putting tremendous pressure on women’s mental and physical health. These feelings of exhaustion, fear, and stress emerged both from conflict-related trauma and the at times seemingly impossible task of keeping their families afloat without the extra income generated by a husband, and without access to technical skills and know-how (including basic literacy skills) that could propel these women into higher paid jobs and access opportunities in the formal sector. Several women we interviewed described this trauma as physical, reporting aches and pains in their heads and hearts.
I have no medicine to cure my feelings. I want medicine for my feelings. [But] even when I drink medicine, it cannot cure my fear, that disease. That hurt that comes from my past, I cannot cure that, I need medicine for that.Footnote 8
In this and other quotes, women’s accounts of their responsibilities for social reproductive work were animated by the depletion this entailed. The reverberation of war-time depletion through social reproduction is felt today, as women’s gendered responsibilities to secure necessities for themselves and their families restricted their own possibilities to gain an education or access secure employment. This illustrates how material inequalities, stemming from a gendered division of war time labor, restrict rural women’s abilities to benefit from recent economic reforms. The woman quoted above does not read or write, or indeed speak Burmese. Just across the state in Pekon, a Kayan poppy farmer we interviewed shared similar experiences:
My whole life I lived here, I never went to school, and don’t even understand Burmese, don’t know how to read and write. My mother asked me to take care of the cows and buffalos, so I did that (Photo 1).Footnote 9
Significantly, neither of the two women quoted above knew much about Myanmar’s recent reforms. Unable to speak or read Burmese, they were unsure as to what changes had taken place in the central government, or when. They knew the fighting had been reduced, had observed a slight increase in the quality of roads, but did not know when the last election had taken place. One of the women thought it happened in the 1990s, the other one did not know what an election was. This is also illustrative of the exclusion of women from township and village tract decision-making committees in the state, including those informing the planning and implementation of rural development funds A recent UNDP report found that close to 90% of women they surveyed had never been consulted to discuss village tract or ward development projects in Kayah state (UNDP 2014). It is important to pay attention to this, because although neither of the women above know much about the country’s recent economic changes, both are affected by them, not least though the ways in which their informal labor underpins, indeed makes possible, broader economic changes in the country.
Formal and Informal Labor
Post-war gendered imbalances amplify women’s workload within and outside the household. This may force women into seeking and accepting precarious forms of work within the informal sector (True 2012). Our research suggests that women’s extensive reproductive responsibilities, when understood in relation to the under-investment of state social provisioning, have pushed women into unsafe and undervalued informal work, including poppy farming and mine waste cleaning. In Myanmar, as is common in many post-conflict states, the informal sector is the largest sector (World Bank 2017). This has in effect created a disposable and vulnerable labor force from which economic development can be built (see Martin De Almagro and Ryan 2019).
Most women we interviewed were engaged in underpaid day labor, alongside their subsistence farming and other reproductive duties. The women reported being paid less than men when engaging in day labor. This precarious nature of their work arguably strengthens the economy which benefits from their (gendered) vulnerability (see Gunawardana 2016; True 2012). This becomes apparent if we look at the lead and tungsten mines in southern Kayah state, which have provided the local Karen community with an income for generations. Only men can work inside the mines: when asked why, we were told that women’s caretaking responsibilities means that women cannot go down inside the tunnels.Footnote 10 Instead, women search the slag heap for small lead ores to clean and sell. Moreover, the area is under expansion, and we were told that Chinese companies, in addition to "crony companies"Footnote 11 have moved into the region, selling off land and pushing the local community to sell their lead back to the company at a fixed, low, price (also see Kramer et al. 2018, p. 120). Many women in the area are widows, having lost their husbands due to the dangerous nature of the mining work.
The major challenge the women face in the area is when they become widows, because their husbands have died from lung disease…In Maw Chi area, especially in our village, there are hundreds of women who now live without a husband, because their husbands have died from lung disease… Women only work outside the mine, searching for small lead ores at the slag heap [because] women are not allowed to go and work inside the tunnel (Photo 2).Footnote 12
Moreover, larger-scale investments projects in Kayah state, such as dams, have undercut women’s access to their subsistence or traditional livelihoods, forcing them to either work in exchange for low day-wages on land they previously considered theirs, or to pay for access their farmland (Cornish 2017). For example, a group of Kayan female farmers we met had been forcibly relocated due the building of the Upper Paung Laung Dam. Their new area had no farming possibilities, pushing the women to return to areas of their land not yet flooded by the dam. However, to reach these areas, they have to pay the dam company 4000 Kyat (about 3 USD). The lack of adequate compensation, including new farming lands, have resulted in a worsening of livelihood opportunities. These findings are also corroborated in other reporting from this area, which found that the dire economic prospects have had specific gendered effects: while women stay behind to ensure the wellbeing of children and the elderly, often engaging in day-labor, men take up jobs abroad or in cities (Cornish and Ramsay 2018; Cornish 2017, 2018).
This division of labor is not necessarily seen by the state as detrimental to economic development policies. To the extent that they are considered at all, women’s flexible and underpaid or unpaid labor is most likely viewed as competitive whilst their caretaking roles fills the gap in welfare provision, thus limiting the urgency of the state to provide welfare, including basic infrastructure, for its citizens (Bakker and Gill 2003; LeBaron 2010). In Kayah state this gap is extensive. Among the women we interviewed, access to electricity and water supply is limited. While roads networks have been improved, most of the villages visited for this research were only accessible via dirt roads, making them, if not impassable, then at least hard and treacherous to travel on, especially during the rainy season. As one woman succinctly summarized it: “the most important need is water, the second is health, the third is the road. Even though the road has improved [after 2011], in the rainy season, we cannot travel. No way.”Footnote 13
As a result, the time women spend on undertaking social reproductive work eats up the time they can spend on productive work. For example, in one village we visited, the nearest well was a twenty-minute walk down a hill, which required ample physical strength on behalf of the women to both collect the water and carry it back up the hill to the village. The well itself was located inside a cave, which meant that the women had to climb into the mouth of the cave and then down and through a narrow passage, which lacked both light and sufficient oxygen. Miscarriages were reported to take place after visits to the tunnel, suggesting that in addition to restricting the time available to work in the formal economy, the burden of reproductive duties also results in bodily harm. In fact, no women we spoke to had ever received medical assistance from a trained doctor or nurse in a hospital, due to the absence of road and hospital infrastructure, the paucity of time resulting from their caretaking duties, and a lack of Burmese language skills. Instead, child births and illnesses are dealt with at home, the responsibility of the women in the village. In other words, rural women’s extensive caretaking responsibilities, when understood in relation to a lack of social provision and state welfare, exposes them to insecurity and violence.
The Union government, in cooperation with local armed groups and the state military, are complicit in creating this vulnerable—and feminized—workforce through their extensive involvement in and control over development projects in the state. For example, the mining industry, discussed above, is controlled by a State military conglomerate, the Union of Myanmar Economic Holdings Limited, with close links to the central government. The KNSO, and to a certain extent, the KNPLF and KNPP, control smaller parts of this industry. The Upper Paung Laung Dam, also discussed above, is owned by the government, while the KNPLF is involved in the development of the state’s nascent tourism industry (Kramer et al. 2018; Cornish 2017). Women’s material and physical vulnerability and poverty are shaped by their absence from these broader economic processes: the leadership of these armed groups are largely, if not completely, androcentric, suggesting that male capture of economic development initiatives renders women’s informal and reproductive labor invisible. In this context, women’s restricted access to formal land rights positions them, as well as the community relaying on their labor, as especially vulnerable to poverty, dispossession and discrimination.
Gender and Land
Against this background of a gendered division of wartime as well as post-war labor visible both within the individual household and across the communities surveyed, women’s restricted access to formal land rights reinforces their vulnerability. Local groups report that, since 2011, more than 50,000 acres of land have been confiscated by State military forces, government agencies, and individual businessmen (Karenni Social Development Center 2016; Htoe Myar 2016). As land is used customarily, many people do not have the legal documents identifying them as the owners of the land; in addition, women are typically not recognized as head of households. This is problematic because land registration documents are often issued in the name of a (male) head of the household, and local administrators will not allow multiple names on the form (Faxon 2014, 2017). This makes women especially vulnerable to land grabbing and relocation, as their claims to land cannot be formally verified. Their opportunities to stop their land from being taken, or receive compensation when they are relocated from it, are small. This is reflective of wider gendered dynamics present in Kayah state where almost 30 cent of the rural female population is illiterate, and no women have been elected to the state-level government or to high decision-making positions at the township level (Myanmar Department of Population 2017; UNDP 2014). Rural women, with limited or no proficiency in Burmese, often lack the know-how and confidence needed to interpret and challenge legal decisions; in addition, gendered biases in law and in practice present additional obstacles, such as the absence of formal land claims upon collective land. In Kayah state, women we met who previously had access to land through indirect customary provisions had lost this access upon the death of their spouses; other had been left waiting for their formal land claims to be verified:
In terms of land ownership, we owned some pieces of land [customary land], which have been used [for farming, cultivation] by the family for many generations. However, we do not have legal documents to prove land ownership because the government have never issued any for us. Although we have requested the authorities to issue us the legal document regarding the land ownership our request is still pending.Footnote 14
Recent land laws are increasing communities’ vulnerability to land loss, as these are in effect legitimizing the move to bring agrarian areas under customary use under the control of the government (Faxon 2017; Woods 2014; Scurrah et al. 2015; Ferguson 2014). The rural communities we visited are dependent upon farming with all practicing shifting cultivation (taungya), making the government’s move to appropriate lands used under this practice particularly worrisome. While work on land and gender in Myanmar shows that in some instances land has been successfully registered in a woman’s name, among the women we interviewed, this was not the case. The absence of female ownership is rooted in widespread conceptions about and practices of male superiority (see Ikeya 2005, 2011), suggesting that a gendered division of labor within the household is constitutive of gendered inequalities in relation to the state and the formal economy. For example, one woman we interviewed recalled being forcibly moved from the site of a dam project in 2013. Only through persistent activism by civil society organizations did some families manage to secure compensation for the loss of land. However, as women are rarely recognized as the formal owners of land, compensation was not paid to women:
The local authorities do not even recognize the woman’s name, just only the leader of the family. The leader is a man, so nothing for women […] they have no more land to do cultivation, and 95% of people are farmers, now they have no land to survive. All of the area is flooded. So business people become bigger business. Poor people, they lose everything.Footnote 15
For single women in particular, relocation can make survival seem almost impossible. Describing the desperation felt by women who have lost their land and their means of survival as a result of infrastructural projects, the woman quoted above relates a story of a pregnant woman in her community who committed suicide a few years ago: “she hung herself…after she lost everything, and did not have any ownership, she got depressed”.Footnote 16 As this example dramatically illustrates, when post-war development intersects with persistent gender inequalities, insecurity, suffering and even death results.
Moreover, the effects of farmland appropriation for development projects invariably take place within the context of persistent insecurity, often pushing men to migrate in search of new livelihood opportunities. Women will stay behind caring for children and other dependents, as this quote suggests:
If there is land grabbing because of development projects, then in that case, women are suffering more than men because if their lands are grabbed, men can move to another place, for their livelihood and their income. But women they cannot like men, because they have their children and their families and the other things (Photo 3).Footnote 17
This illustrates how gendered expectations and responsibilities create material inequalities, shaping women’s experiences of the economic transition currently underway. As we found in this and other interviews, women’s participation in informal (day labor) and reproductive work (household, subsistence farming) interact to limit or structure their relationship to the formal market. The relationship between a gendered division of labor and economic reforms is rooted in perceptions about male leadership and ownership, and realized through large-scale investments and land acquisitions that leave women with few resources to improve their and their family’s well-being. In interviews, women said they lacked the time, the health, or the education required to resist land-grabbing practices.Footnote 18 In other words, relations of gendered power are (re)produced at multiple sites—the home, the farm, the community—fueling cycles of gendered violence, exclusion, and depletion (see Elias and Rai 2015). While some women do resist, most are simply, and barely, surviving, wishing to stay out of political activities (see Agatha Ma and Kusakabe 2015). In this setting, new land laws, while a key pillar of the government’s recent move to modernize and liberalize the Myanmar market (Republic of the Union of Myanmar 2012) are affecting women from ethnic minority communities in ways which risk heightening their vulnerability, rather than their resilience. Moreover, insufficient Burmese language skills, a lack of formal land rights, and extensive reproductive responsibilities has meant that rural women in particular are unable to benefit from trading, tourism, and large-scale agribusiness and natural resource management (see Agatha Ma and Kusakabe 2015; Cartmell 2019; Cornish and Ramsay 2018; Cornish 2017). Consequently, recent development initiatives and economic reforms shape, and are shaped by, gendered dynamics, pointing to the importance of exploring and understanding the relationship between development and gender in the wake of armed conflict.