Mr Min Aung Hlaing was accompanied to Beijing by the chief ministers of Kachin and Shan states, which abut China, suggesting the visit focused on border trade, including rare earths, and restarting Myitsone dam, a $3.6bn Chinese project in Kachin that has been frozen since 2011 after a public outcry. China’s reach into Myanmar is more than just commercial. It is increasingly shaping not just what comes out of the ground inside the country but what can be known and said about it internationally. On June 3rd China detained Min Zin, a prominent Myanmar-born scholar of Myanmar politics, while he was visiting Kunming, a city in southern China. An American citizen, Mr Min Zin was accused of espionage. His detention may be more to do with China’s relations with America than with China doing the junta a favour by silencing a leading critic. But the episode has sent a chill through the community of academics and others who study China and Myanmar. As China’s grip on Myanmar tightens, both regimes are becoming harder than ever to understand. ■ For exclusive coverage of Asian politics, economics and security, sign up to Asia Bulletin, our weekly subscriber-only newsletter. This article was downloaded by zlibrary from https://www.economist.com//asia/2026/06/18/the-real-winner-in-myanmars-civil-war- is-china

· China

A dam halted by protests in 2011 is back, but not for the energy it will produce June 18th 2026 WHEN popular protest forced Myanmar to suspend the building of the Myitsone dam in 2011, the project became a symbol of democracy, nationalism and defiance of China. Very few Chinese-backed dams worldwide had ever been halted by public opposition. Then last December Soe Win, the junta’s second-in-command, said that it had struck a deal with China to restart the project. It is a cascade of seven dams at the confluence of the Irrawaddy, seen by many in Myanmar as the country’s mother river. Myitsone is the crown jewel of the dams and the most controversial.

The question is why the dam is to be resurrected. It was loathed: the deal was opaque; most of the electricity would go to China; it threatened to worsen floods and damage biodiversity, livelihoods and sacred sites downstream. None of that has changed. Moreover, China does not need the electricity urgently. The revival, then, is not really about hydropower. It is about leverage. Ever more dependent on China, the junta is using a despised project to buy Chinese goodwill and to squeeze the ethnic army that controls much of Kachin state, where the dams would be built. The project has become both a bargaining chip with China and a pretext for crushing dissent. The repression came first. The junta has issued an order declaring that anyone who opposes the dam “without firm evidence” will face legal action, building on two statutes already used to silence critics. A cyber-security law from January 2025 criminalised unlicensed virtual private networks and some online speech using broadly defined terms; an election law from July outlawed nearly all criticism of the recent rigged election. Penalties range from three years in prison to death. Locals are unhappy but understandably cowed. In May 49 NGOs condemned the new gagging order about the dam as an assault on free

expression and accused the junta of staging sham consultations to fabricate consent. The junta held more than 15 such meetings across the region, says Seng Mai of Kachin Human Rights Watch, a local watchdog; many Kachin people who once worked for anti-dam NGOs have been coerced into joining the committee to restart it. The aim, she says, is to “pit our people against each other”. Local leaders are watched and threatened with arrest or retaliation against their families if they speak out, says one resident of Myitkyina, the capital of Kachin state, which is near the planned dam site. The second target is Kachin territory. The junta holds Myitkyina and the dam site, but the surrounding forests belong to the Kachin Independence Army (KIA). By resuscitating the project, the regime may hope to provoke a confrontation that forces the KIA to cede territory. Both sides depend on China for trade and weapons. When the dam was proposed, 90% of its power was bound for China. Today the country’s electricity-generating capacity, especially from cheap solar and wind, outstrips peak demand. So it can wait for the dam. It would prefer the junta to build a railway linking Yunnan, in southern China, to Mandalay in northern Myanmar, and Kyaukphyu, a deep-sea port in the Bay of Bengal. It will probably get its way. ■ For exclusive coverage of Asian politics, economics and security, sign up to Asia Bulletin, our weekly subscriber-only newsletter. This article was downloaded by zlibrary from https://www.economist.com//asia/2026/06/18/myanmars-junta-revives-a-hated-dam-to- court-china

Asia · Asia | Yam today

From Philippine staple to global sensation: the rise of ube The country is struggling to keep up with soaring demand June 18th 2026 IN KASA AND KIN, a Philippine restaurant in London, a violet glaze gleams atop a wobbling “ube tsunami cheesecake”. The sweet-toothed can also nibble ube brownies, ube ice cream and ube macarons, or sip ube margaritas. The eatery used to serve mostly Filipinos, hungry for a taste of home. Now others pour in too; sometimes just to photograph purple pastries. Lately, ube, a yam commonly used in Philippine desserts, has exploded on Western menus. In the past year Starbucks, Costa Coffee and Pret A Manger have all rolled out ube-infused drinks across America and Europe. Its mild, earthy, nutty flavour is appealing. But it is the photogenic purple that has made the humble yam an internet sensation.

Ube (scientifically, Dioscorea alata) owes its hue to anthocyanins, antioxidants that have helped its reputation as a superfood (overlooking the sugar and alcohol it is often drenched in). Ige Ramos, a food scholar in Manila, explains that ube was a source of carbohydrates for Filipinos long before rice became a staple. After colonisation by Spain in the 16th century, ube became a dessert, halaya, from the Spanish jalea, or jelly; after the Americans took over in the late 1800s the jam was enriched with condensed milk. Halaya remains popular, and rather than the mild root itself, its sweet, creamy taste is what most Filipinos recognise as ube. Philippine ube growers are struggling to keep up. The vines take some ten months to mature, yield just once a year, and can be wiped out by the floods or storms that lash the Philippines. It is grown on small plots by old-school methods. Competition from countries such as Vietnam and China is growing. And the market is polluted by fakes. Kyle Russell, a Filipino who lives in England, recalls ordering an “ube” cocktail, only to find it used sweet-potato powder. He laments that it is a shame how, because ube is seen as a trend, “people are trying to fabricate things to make money.” Planting material is scarce. Propagation involves chopping tubers into chunks, which sprout a new plant. A kilo yields only a handful, and farmers must retain some to replant. The government is backing research into extracting more plantlets from a tuber. Many farmers hope for such a breakthrough. Rogel Juan, on the Philippine island of Mindanao, started growing ube in April after spotting the online craze. He says prices of ube have leapt from about 30-50 pesos a kilo a few years back to 150 ($3) today. “It’s just an ordinary plant for us,” says Mr Juan. “But now it’s like gold.”■ For exclusive coverage of Asian politics, economics and security, sign up to Asia Bulletin, our weekly subscriber-only newsletter. This article was downloaded by zlibrary from https://www.economist.com//asia/2026/06/18/from-philippine-staple-to-global- sensation-the-rise-of-ube

Asia · Asia | Hard sell

Taiwan’s opposition leader faced a tough crowd in America Many still have doubts about her outreach to Xi Jinping June 18th 2026 THE LEADER of Taiwan’s Kuomintang (KMT), its main opposition party, since November, Cheng Li-wun has often been accused of pandering to China. Even within the KMT, many thought she over-reached when she visited Beijing in April, becoming the party’s first leader in a decade to meet China’s president, Xi Jinping. In America, which underwrites Taiwan’s defence, many of its supporters were appalled by the way she echoed Mr Xi’s rhetoric, despite his resolve to unify the island with the mainland, by force if needed. So Ms Cheng faced a tough crowd for most of her two-week tour of America, which ended on June 15th. In meetings with politicians, scholars

and overseas Chinese, she sought to defend her outreach to China, which she says is designed to avoid an unnecessary war. But she did not get the sit- down she hoped for with Donald Trump. Nor, it seems, did she see any senior officials. And many of those she did meet were unconvinced by her pitch, especially her justification for blocking Taiwan’s defence spending. Not to worry, Ms Cheng tells The Economist, a day after returning home from her American trip. She says the visit exceeded her expectations. Although she admits that she did not persuade all her interlocutors, including ten members of Congress, she says she opened new communication channels and will continue to make the case for peaceful dialogue across the Taiwan Strait. “It’s very natural that everyone would adopt a more reserved and observant attitude,” says the potential KMT candidate for Taiwan’s presidential election in 2028. “They may just think I’m being too naive or whatever but I’m not.” On defence, she claims that her views have not changed as a result of the visit or under pressure from KMT rivals who favour closer ties with America. Yet she sounds slightly more open to compromise—and a smidgen tougher in her rhetoric on China. She reiterates her party’s opposition to Taiwan’s declaring formal independence, a position she shares with China’s leader, Xi Jinping. But she adds that if Taiwan does not become formally independent and “mainland China still wants to use military force to invade Taiwan, you know then we will fight. We definitely will fight back.” She also says her party may propose its own legislation soon to fund domestic defence programmes excluded from a supplementary military budget that parliament approved in May. The KMT and its allies, which have a majority in parliament, delayed for months a bigger proposed budget of $40bn, mainly to buy American arms. A $25bn budget was eventually approved, thanks largely to Ms Cheng’s KMT rivals. But it excluded funding for a domestic drone-manufacturing programme and other efforts to boost Taiwan’s defence-industry capacity. Still, Ms Cheng says that any new proposal is unlikely to be approved before September, when Mr Xi is due to visit America. Nor are such tweaks to her platform likely to reassure her American critics. Ms Cheng denies media reports that an American national-security official cancelled a scheduled