Terms of Extraction

Terms of Extraction

Episode #575: Lindsey Kennedy, an investigative journalist and documentary filmmaker focused on organized crime, corruption, and conflict, argues that the scam-compound economy across Cambodia, Myanmar, and Laos can no longer be treated as a marginal criminal problem. It has become a governing force in parts of the region, shaping infrastructure, labor flows, border management, and even the logic of war. “They are not a separate organized crime phenomenon. They are a core part of the economic activity of a country.” Her account widens the frame far beyond online fraud. Inside these compounds, people can be trafficked through fake job offers, trapped behind guarded walls, tortured for missing targets, sold between operators, or pushed into sexual exploitation. Many do not even realize which country they have been taken to until they arrive. “People are completely tricked into working somewhere they have no idea what's happening.” Others enter under economic pressure and discover too late that there is no easy line between coercion and consent once the system closes around them. Kennedy is especially focused on state responsibility. These industries do not grow into cities without permissions, land access, military or police protection, and a wider network of businesses willing to build, transport, finance, and normalize them. “They just cannot take root without state sponsored backing,” as she puts it. Casinos, special economic zones, and new fintech platforms help move and launder money while giving criminal infrastructure the appearance of development. In Myanmar, those same criminal economies blur into conflict itself. Armed groups need revenue, illegal industries expand, and even landmine contamination becomes harder to address when crime, territory, and war finance overlap. Survivors, meanwhile, are left with little support. “There's not a lot of thought for aftercare,” Kennedy says, pointing to a system that recycles people through exploitation rather than helping them exit it. What emerges is not a hidden underworld but a visible structure of power—one that continues to expand and harden.

Unscripted Awakening

Episode #574: Diego Prieto, a Chilean filmmaker, embarked on a journey to explore the Buddha's legacy and its modern relevance. His documentary started as an effort to explain the core teachings of Buddhism but evolved into a personal and transformative journey. Together with co-producer Camila Arias, he traveled to key sites in Buddhist history, including India and Sri Lanka, to trace the historical Buddha's life and teachings. At one point, Diego faced an intense personal challenge while attending a meditation retreat, which shifted the documentary's focus from an external exploration to one reflecting an internal journey. Through interviews with scholars and practitioners from diverse Buddhist traditions, Diego came to appreciate the adaptability of the Buddha's teachings. He realized that Buddhism cannot be confined to a single formula; instead, it offers varied paths tailored to individuals. This understanding reshaped the documentary into a motivational tool meant to inspire personal exploration of Buddhism, rather than providing definitive answers. Diego’s final message is that spiritual growth is deeply personal and cannot be systematized. The documentary aims to encourage viewers to embark on their own journeys, embracing the multiplicity of approaches within Buddhism. As Diego concluded, “We found out that the Buddha taught different practices for different people... there is no one-size-fits-all path.”

Behind the Firewall

Episode #573: “I brought you here to the United States not so you could forget our homeland,” Salih Hudayar remembers his father telling him, “but so you could become educated and one day return to liberate our people and our country from the Chinese occupation.” Hudayar, now Foreign Minister of the East Turkistan Government in Exile, traces his political life to that instruction. Born in 1993 near Kashgar, he grew up amid tightening state control and left for the United States as a child after his father fled repression. He situates the current crisis within a longer history that includes two short-lived East Turkistan republics before Communist consolidation in 1949. He describes a post-2009 escalation of surveillance, detention, and forced labor under the banner of counterterrorism. Citing Chinese government documents and satellite imagery, he argues that mass internment, religious repression, family separation, and demographic engineering amount to genocide. Now based in Washington DC, Hudayar presses U.S. lawmakers to move beyond condemnation. Recognition of genocide, he says, is not enough without confronting what he calls the root problem of colonial rule. Running a government in exile, dispersed across continents and sustained by diaspora donations, requires coordination, discipline, and constant vigilance against external pressure. Myanmar surfaces repeatedly in the interview as both comparison and caution. Hudayar draws parallels between the Rohingya genocide case and his own effort to bring a complaint before the International Criminal Court, noting that the Rohingya precedent shaped the jurisdictional argument he pursued. He also references Myanmar’s strategic importance to China’s Belt and Road Initiative, particularly access to the western coast and energy corridors that could reduce Beijing’s vulnerability in the Strait of Malacca. At a broader level, he frames the Uyghur and Myanmar struggles as linked by geography and power politics—both situated along China’s periphery, both affected by Beijing’s economic leverage and security influence, and both navigating how global powers respond when human rights concerns collide with strategic interests.

Let Them Eat Cake

Episode #572: “The government will survive for as long as it can feed the people,” says Christopher Lamb, former Australian Ambassador to Myanmar, distilling what he believes defines the country’s political fate more than any ideology. He reflects on a relationship with Burma that began in the early 1970s, when the generals were drafting a Socialist Constitution and creating a surveillance state, and evolved through the 1988 uprising, which began not as an idealistic revolt but as a desperate reaction to hunger and daily indignities. Years later, he reconnected with Myanmar around humanitarian work in the aftermath of Cyclone Nargis in 2008, and then academic engagement in 2013, when he co-founded the Australia–Myanmar Institute as a platform for academic and civil-society exchange Lamb situates Myanmar’s politics within a wider regional frame, drawing on Shan history, federalism debates, geography, and Chinese influence to show why the struggle against the junta cannot be reduced to a simple clash between dictatorship and democracy. He also contrasts the current military leadership with earlier eras, noting that Min Aung Hlaing lacks the ideological projects—whether national unity or the “Burmese Way to Socialism”—that once guided previous generals. Instead, Lamb sees today’s junta as driven largely by personal ambition, with Min Aung Hlaing positioning himself to transition into a civilian presidency through a tightly controlled electoral process. Without this sort of guiding ideology, Lamb believes the regime’s future becomes harder to predict and possibly more brittle. Myanmar remains close to Lamb’s heart. It shaped him as a diplomat, it shaped his curiosity and it shaped his friendships. When asked whether any memory stays with him above all others about the country, he references a remark offered by the senior Burmese official decades earlier over tea: “The government will survive for as long as we can feed the people.”

Class Dismissed

Episode #571: “For students living through uncertainty, I think online learning and online education becomes a lifeline rather than simply an alternative.” Eaint Thet Hmu, a Philosophy, Politics, and Economics (PPE) student at Parami University, came to education through disruption rather than continuity. COVID-19 interrupted the expected path after matriculation; the 2021 coup closed off the university future she had imagined in Yangon. Online learning became the route through which she found Parami, community work, and a new way of reading Myanmar. At Parami, Eaint’s Bamar-majority background was unsettled by studying with classmates from ethnic nationalities she had rarely encountered before. She began to understand what it meant to move “from being the ethnic majority and becoming a minority in the classroom.” That shift shaped her interest in civic education, gender equality, and the kind of learning that does not stop at theory. For one thing, she came to understand that “the role of the student isn't to save the community but is to learn with them.” Her youth-led Project PyitTineHtaung brings sexuality and gender education to underserved secondary students, including monastic education students in Magway and Mandalay. Eaint sees this work as part of survival in a country where misinformation spreads more easily than accurate guidance about their bodies, gender, and safety. “Restrictions are not always the solution,” she says. Her research on the Civil Disobedience Movement extends the same question into the political sphere. After the coup, students who refused military-controlled universities were refusing more than classes; they were refusing legitimacy. Among twelve higher education students she interviewed, all said the decision came at once: “they decided immediately, they didn’t hesitate for a moment.” Eaint’s account keeps returning to education as a contested space. A degree is not the whole of learning. In Myanmar now, learning means recognizing power, resisting false legitimacy, and continuing to think when the official institutions meant to teach have become part of the pressure.