Mangroves Without Guardians: How Armed Conflict Is Leaving Myanmar’s Coastal Forests Exposed

By Admin 30 Nov 2025

Written By Min Htun, Nat Shun May, and Thaw Dar (co-authors)

Along Myanmar’s coastal belt – in Arakan, Mon, Ayeyarwady and Tanintharyi – mangrove forests were once a precious natural inheritance, a gift of land and sea passed down from previous generations. Today, those same mangroves are being degraded in the shadow of war, with almost no one left to protect them.

These coastal mangrove ecosystems, some of the world’s most valuable “blue carbon” stores and lifelines for more than five million people, have become effectively unguarded as armed conflict spreads. Mangroves that once fed communities and buffered coastlines are now losing the people and institutions that used to watch over them.

As authorities, conservation teams and monitoring groups halt field work, unchecked logging and illegal cutting have accelerated mangrove loss. This devastates local “hand-to-mouth” economies that depend on fish, prawns and small-scale coastal livelihoods. At the same time, the future of these mangroves, the survival of rare species, overall biodiversity and the safety of coastal communities are all becoming cause for serious concern.

Why Mangroves Matter

Among the world’s ecosystems, mangrove forests stand out as one of the most powerful natural carbon sinks. They absorb and store more carbon than most terrestrial forests, making them a critical line of defense against climate change.

Mangroves also protect coastlines from:

    storm surges
    erosion
    landslides
    cyclones and extreme weather

They serve as nurseries and feeding grounds for fish, prawns, crabs and a rich array of marine life and biodiversity.

Yet in conflict-affected coastal regions, the loss of mangroves is now threatening both ecosystems and human communities in ways that may last for generations, environmental advocates warn. As these “blue carbon” stocks decline, the ability of mangroves to buffer climate shocks is reduced. Scientists estimate that in conflict-affected zones, mangroves can be lost three to five times faster than in protected or well-managed areas.

Why Mangrove Protection Is Collapsing

Before the 1970s, Myanmar had about 785,000 hectares of mangrove forests along its coasts. But between 2000 and 2014, the country lost roughly 14,619 hectares per year—about 2.2 percent annually—according to a 2018 scientific study by Estoque et al. and World Bank data.

After 2014, the rate of loss slowed by around 44 percent compared to the early 2000s. But from 2016 to 2021, mangroves in Ayeyarwady, Arakan, Mon and Tanintharyi continued to shrink due to illegal logging and agricultural expansion, according to Global Mangrove Watch (GMW).

Democratic reforms and international support helped temporarily stabilize some areas. But after the 2021 coup, that fragile balance collapsed.

“Since the coup, as armed conflict has intensified, the rule of law has eroded and forest department oversight has essentially broken down,” says environmental expert U Win Myo Thu. “In this context, people either out of need—or seizing opportunities—are cutting firewood illegally and expanding shrimp ponds more easily than before.”

The junta’s strategy of blockades and restrictions has also led to prolonged electricity cuts. As families lose access to power, they rely heavily on firewood and charcoal, increasing pressure on mangroves. At the same time, fish and shrimp ponds and small dams are steadily expanding into mangrove areas.

All of this has dramatically accelerated mangrove destruction.

U Win Myo Thu notes that the coup and the expansion of armed conflict have:

    halted conservation efforts

    cut off international funding and technical support

    deepened ecological degradation, which in turn worsens social instability and conflict dynamics

In places like the Mottama coastal arc and along the Mon State shoreline, where mangroves once grew densely, local residents report that the trees are thinning out.

“On this side, the mangroves are almost gone. There’s no one left to protect them,” says a man from Paung Township. “Some people who used to work here have left the country. Conservation groups are gone. Nobody is really doing this work anymore.”

In Mottama Bay’s forest mosaic, mangroves once stood alongside salt marshes, limestone hills, dry forests and evergreen forests. Mon State authorities used to plant around 2,000 mangrove and shade trees each monsoon in the Chaungzon area. But locals say there have been no serious follow-up or maintenance plans, so the impact has been limited.

In Paung Township, villagers were hit hard by cyclonic storms, with over 100 households suffering damage and several casualties and injuries reported. Communities see a direct link between weaker coastal forests and stronger storm impacts.

Across Mon’s coast, mangrove plantings made before COVID-19 and before the coup—often on community forest (CF) land—are shrinking year by year. Trees are fewer and younger, unable to replace what is being cut or lost.

And Arakan, where conflict between the junta and the Arakan Army (AA) is intense, is no exception.

In Sittwe, Pauktaw, Minbya and Myebon townships, the main drivers of mangrove loss include:

    unclear land tenure and ownership

    expansion of shrimp ponds and paddy fields

    logging for fuel and timber

    and now, the knock-on impacts of armed conflict

In some areas, such as Pauktaw and Myebon, up to 22–43 percent of mangroves have been lost within defined time frames.

Because of conflict, monitoring teams cannot access even protected sites such as the Ramsar-listed Ramree wetlands. One Arakan-based conservation group says this has stalled protection work and opened the door to illegal fishing and resource extraction.

The destruction was made worse by Cyclone Mocha, which struck on May 14, 2023, devastating large tracts of mangrove along the Arakan coast.

According to a 2017 UN-REDD report, mangrove replanting and conversion rates in Arakan are even higher than in Ayeyarwady. Arakan’s mangroves are caught in a constant tug-of-war between “development proposals” and weak or poorly implemented conservation policies.

The Ripple Effects of Mangrove Loss

As mangrove and forest cover disappears, communities are already experiencing:

    rising temperatures

    more frequent droughts and water shortages

    declining fish stocks

    more unpredictable weather and climate impacts

A 45-year-old fisherman from Kyaukphyu Township in Arakan, who has worked at sea for more than a decade, describes the changes:

“Fish are becoming scarce while the number of people who depend on them is increasing. It’s like the fish are disappearing as a species. So our livelihoods go up and down. When we can’t manage, we borrow to eat. When things are better, we repay the debts. We survive by borrowing and paying back.”

Where he once caught around 12 baskets of fish in three days, he now brings back just four.

Along the coast, daily wage fishers are among the first to feel the impact of mangrove loss and shrinking marine resources.

“We don’t catch as much as before. In the past, ten baskets was normal; now, sometimes we can’t even get one,” says another fisherman from Pauktaw Township. “Marine resources have declined. Markets aren’t what they were. Even daily survival is becoming a struggle.”

Erratic and off-season rainfall has further damaged the livelihoods of upland and smallholder farmers.

In early November 2025, unusual heavy rains in Arakan damaged winter crops such as groundnuts, maize, chilies, eggplant, cucumber and watermelon, farmers report.

In the Leimyo Chaung area of Mrauk-U Township, a woman farmer from Lay Nhyin Taung village says prolonged rain brought fungus and pests, destroying groundnut fields:

“Normally, once the monsoon ends, the rain stops. But this year it kept raining until the end of Thadingyut (October). So the damage was much worse.”

One environmental expert points out that mangroves can absorb up to five times more carbon dioxide than terrestrial forests. Losing them, he says, is like dismantling our own natural defense system:

“In cyclone-prone areas like Arakan, when mangroves are gone, stored carbon is released back into the atmosphere, worsening climate change. At the same time, coastal villages lose a vital shield against storms. It’s as if we are destroying our own natural protection by our own hands.”

Mangrove loss has significantly weakened the Arakan coastline’s resilience to storms. Without the natural barrier of these forests, coastal communities are now facing natural disasters more directly.

Conserving Mangroves Amid Conflict

Conservation and environmental groups in Myanmar say they face enormous challenges trying to protect mangroves in conflict zones.

“Right now, we’ve had to sharply reduce almost all field activities,” explains one environmental activist. “We mainly rely on local networks for information, monitor from afar, collect updates over the phone, and continue some awareness-raising online. But for security reasons, we cannot gather people in one place to do replanting or restoration.”

In conflict hotspots across Arakan, Mon and Ayeyarwady, groups face:

    no security guarantees

    restricted movement in and out of project sites

    funding shortages for long-term work

In some coastal areas with intense military activity, field-based mangrove projects are effectively impossible, he adds.

“During conflict, we get reports of increased illegal cutting and resource damage from our local networks. But the sad reality is that we can’t conduct inspections. We can’t quantify the total damage. That uncertainty is one of our biggest worries.”

Mangrove conservation groups estimate that due to fighting, arson and uncontrolled cutting, 5–10 percent of the total coastal mangrove area may have been directly damaged.
Mangroves and the Role of Authorities

In conflict-torn regions, local governing bodies and authorities face complex challenges in managing both the environment and natural resources.

In Arakan, the Arakan Army (AA) now controls most of the state and plays a central role in local administration. People close to the AA say it has introduced rules and policies aimed at preventing illegal logging and burning in forests, including mangroves.

Local AA-linked units reportedly:

    monitor routes used to transport timber and forest products

    establish checkpoints and patrol teams

    impose penalties under local regulations on those who violate rules

However, DMG’s attempts to obtain direct comment from AA spokesperson U Khaing Thukha on their environmental policies went unanswered by the time of publication.

Observers say that if mangroves are to survive in the long term, local administrations, the central government and international organizations will all have to work together under clear and practical policies.

“Local authorities need to effectively act against illegal loggers and give conservation groups like ours safe access,” the environmental activist says. “International organizations should create mechanisms to directly fund community-based conservation groups in conflict-affected areas.”

He also suggests designating mangrove zones as “environmental neutral zones”—areas where all sides agree not to conduct military operations so conservation can continue.

A woman from a Chaungzon Community Forest (CF) group adds that true success will require leadership, funding and technical support working together:

“If local authorities clearly lead the plans, and organizations cooperate with proper technical support and funding, then it can work. You need all three—leadership, finance and expertise. If they come together, restoration can really happen.”

For now, however, she says community forestry work in her area is frozen:

“The organizations that used to work, the supporters, the leaders—none of them are here anymore. With no one to lead, we simply cannot continue.”

A Shared Responsibility

Whatever happens next, mangroves remain one of the most important natural ecosystems for both people and the planet. As powerful blue-carbon sinks, they must be part of any serious response to climate change.

That responsibility does not rest only with governments or international NGOs. Local communities, civil society networks and individual citizens all have a role to play.

If the world is to slow global warming and curb climate disruption, mangroves cannot be left to disappear in the crossfire of war and neglect. From coastal villagers to local authorities to global institutions, recognizing the value of these forests—and acting to protect them—is no longer optional. It is urgent.