Operation 4926 exposes the limits of Myanmar’s military power in Arakan

Aung Marm Oo

The junta’s renewed offensive from Sittwe has brought formidable firepower back to the battlefield, but weeks of fighting, testimony from captured soldiers and mounting civilian casualties point to a deeper problem: turning destructive power into territorial control.

When Myanmar’s military launched a major offensive from Sittwe toward Ponnagyun on September 4, it appeared intended to show that the regime could still seize the initiative in Arakan State.

Backed by ground troops, artillery, naval forces, drones and combat aircraft, military columns pushed toward territory controlled by the Arakan Army (AA). Pro-military influencers subsequently dubbed the campaign “Operation 4926”, although the regime had not formally announced that designation as of September 10.

More than three weeks later, however, the offensive has exposed a deeper problem: the military’s continuing difficulty in converting formidable conventional firepower into sustainable territorial gains.

By September 25, fighting remained intense around Wahbo village, Minchaung Bridge, the Shwe Min Gan naval base and other areas of Sittwe Township. Ground sources told Development Media Group (DMG) that the AA had captured additional military positions.

“There are airstrikes on the Ponnagyun side almost every day,” one ground source said. “Even when aircraft do not come, drones are flying overhead. We hear both artillery and small-arms fire almost every day.”

Some of the most revealing accounts have come from soldiers sent into the fighting.

Yan Nyein Aung, captured by the AA on September 20, alleged that troops were promised rewards and promotions for fighting on the frontline and that drug and alcohol use was widespread.

“About 99 out of 100 use drugs. There are drinkers too. The police sell them,” he said. “It’s not only here; police also come and sell drugs at rear bases. They are fighting while using drugs.”

His claims require caution. Yan Nyein Aung was speaking while in AA custody, and his allegations cannot be independently verified from his testimony alone. But his description of poor morale and distrust of commanders echoes other accounts emerging from the battle.

Another soldier, Aung Pyae Sone, alleged that troops were ordered to fight without retreating.

“They told us, ‘Don’t spare even children — shoot and kill everyone. Never retreat. Keep firing until you die.’ But they themselves stay behind. They take the benefits and promotions for themselves,” he said.

The alleged order to kill civilians is extremely serious and requires independent investigation. But his description of orders not to retreat is also significant because it fits a broader battlefield picture: troops being pushed forward despite substantial resistance and reported losses.

A major push from Sittwe

According to military sources cited by DMG, about 1,000 troops were deployed in five columns of roughly 170 to 200 personnel each when the offensive began. The operation represented a substantial combined-arms attempt to push from Sittwe into AA-held Ponnagyun.

Ponnagyun’s location helps explain its significance. The township borders Sittwe and provides an important gateway toward northern Arakan. Re-establishing a foothold there could give the military greater operational space around the state capital.

But the advance encountered strong resistance.

By September 18, DMG reported that the AA had captured four military positions during counterattacks on September 15 and 16. By September 25, ground sources were reporting the seizure of additional positions near Wahbo and continued heavy fighting.

The military nevertheless retains a major advantage: its ability to attack from a distance.

On September 17, four fighter jets carried out at least seven consecutive bombing runs around Kuntaung and nearby areas, according to DMG. Fighter jets dropped bombs and fired heavy machine guns while a Y-12 aircraft dropped additional ordnance.

Yet this aerial firepower has not produced an equivalent breakthrough on the ground.

That distinction is central to the current battle. Aircraft and artillery can destroy positions, disrupt movement and impose enormous costs. But controlling territory requires ground forces capable of advancing, holding positions and sustaining supply lines.

This is where the testimony of captured soldiers becomes particularly relevant.

The human weakness behind the firepower

Yan Nyein Aung was reportedly attached to Infantry Battalion 252 under the Pakokku-based 101st Light Infantry Division. DMG reported that troops from the 101st and 22nd Light Infantry divisions, Western Command and militia units were involved in the offensive.

His most significant testimony may not be his allegation about drugs, but what he said about the military’s treatment of its own personnel.

“When people die without anyone knowing, there is no responsibility or accountability for them,” he said. “And when people are wounded or their bodies are permanently disabled, we don’t know anything about what rights or support we are supposed to receive.”

His message to soldiers still serving was simple: “If you get a good opportunity, run.”

Another soldier identified as Michael gave a similar account after reportedly defecting to the AA: “None of the soldiers want to stay in this military. They don’t want to fight either.”

These statements cannot tell us what the military as a whole thinks. They come from captured or defecting personnel and must be understood in that context.

But they raise questions that battlefield maps cannot answer: How much confidence do frontline troops retain in their commanders? How effective are units relying partly on militia personnel? And how sustainable is an offensive if some soldiers believe their commanders will abandon them when operations go wrong?

Military power is not measured simply by aircraft, artillery and troop numbers. Cohesion, leadership, logistics and willingness to fight determine whether those resources can be translated into control.

A wider campaign

The Sittwe-Ponnagyun battle is also part of a broader military effort.

The military has been pressing AA-held territory from neighbouring regions, with fighting reported in Lemyethna, Yegyi and Thabaung townships in Ayeyarwady Region and along approaches from Magway. DMG has reported simultaneous offensives along several axes, indicating an effort to pressure AA-held territory from multiple directions.

The military also remains engaged around Kyaukphyu, where fighting intensified again in September and air and naval support has accompanied ground operations.

This wider pattern matters because Operation 4926 should not be understood merely as a battle for Ponnagyun. It is part of a larger attempt to prevent the AA from consolidating its territorial gains and to restore the military’s operational position in and around Arakan.

But across these fronts, the same strategic question persists: can substantial manpower and superior stand-off firepower be converted into durable territorial recovery?

Civilians pay the price

For civilians, whether a ground offensive succeeds or stalls offers little protection from air power.

DMG’s casualty records show the scale of that danger.

Between April 2024 and September 12, 2026, DMG documented 602 civilians killed and 1,211 injured in airstrikes in Arakan State 1,813 civilian casualties in total. The victims included 131 children killed and 181 injured, as well as 56 elderly people killed and 117 injured.

These are documented cases rather than a definitive accounting. Communications disruptions, access restrictions and difficulties verifying incidents mean some casualties have not been incorporated into the figures.

The record nevertheless shows the scale of civilian exposure to air attack.

DMG separately documented 187 POWs and detainees killed and at least 122 injured in airstrikes, including 116 POWs killed at a detention facility in Ann Township in March 2026.

And those figures stop on September 12 before some of the heaviest fighting of the current Sittwe offensive.

On September 23, two civilians, including an internally displaced person, were killed when military aircraft dropped nearly 20 bombs on Phetkya village in Ponnagyun Township, according to DMG.

Thousands have also been displaced from communities around the Sittwe front.

“We still don’t have anywhere proper to stay,” displaced resident Daw Hla Oo May told DMG. “As for food, we are sharing whatever we brought with us.”

This illustrates another consequence of reliance on stand-off firepower. Even when frontlines move only slightly, the geography of civilian vulnerability can expand dramatically.

Firepower is not control

It is too early to determine the outcome of the battle around Sittwe.

The military retains significant infrastructure in the state capital and can continue deploying aircraft, artillery, naval forces and additional troops. The AA, meanwhile, must defend an extensive area while maintaining supply lines and protecting communities exposed to air attack.

Nor should recent AA advances be taken to mean that capturing Sittwe would be straightforward. Fighting around a heavily defended state capital would present different military and humanitarian challenges from battles along its rural approaches.

But the fighting since September 4 already illustrates an important contradiction.

The military remains capable of assembling substantial forces and conducting simultaneous ground, naval and air operations. What remains uncertain is whether it can turn those operations into durable territorial recovery.

So far, the Sittwe-Ponnagyun offensive has produced contested advances, AA counterattacks, reported losses of military positions and increasingly intensive reliance on air power.

Testimony from captured and defecting soldiers points to another potential weakness that additional aircraft cannot easily address: the relationship between commanders and the troops ordered to fight.

And when ground advances stall, civilians remain exposed to the military’s most powerful advantage, its ability to strike from the air and from a distance.

This may ultimately be the most important lesson of the offensive dubbed Operation 4926.

The military has demonstrated that it can still bring enormous destructive power to Arakan. But the fighting around Sittwe is demonstrating something equally important:

Destructive power and territorial control are not the same thing.

Aung Marm Oo is the Editor-in-Chief and Executive Director of Development Media Group

(DMG), a news agency based in Arakan. He faces charges under Myanmar’s Unlawful

Associations Act and has been in hiding since May 2019.

The views expressed here do not necessarily reflect the views of Mizzima Media.