Guest contributor
Jaivet Ealom
August 25 marks the seventh anniversary of the Rohingya genocide that took place in Myanmar in 2017.
The Rohingya crisis is not an isolated event; rather, it represents the culmination of decades of persecution, exclusion, and erasure. The Rohingya have endured systematic oppression for generations. Their rights were methodically eroded, their cultural identity obliterated, and their very existence denied.
This long-standing discrimination laid the groundwork for the tragedy that unfolded. The playbook followed by the Burmese military and its allies bore chilling similarities to other genocides throughout history.
The stripping of legal identity and restrictions on everything, from family life to freedom of movement, was accompanied by dehumanizing propaganda campaigns painting the Rohingya as the “other” and incited hatred against them, making violence against Rohingyas not only acceptable but desirable.
Orchestrated attacks, mass killings, rape, the destruction of property, forced displacement and expulsion unfolded, following a grim script laid out by the military.
In 2017, when the intensity of mass killings of the Rohingyas made global headlines, the international community faltered in its response. Aid poured in, and condemnations echoed across the world, but failed to prevent the unfolding catastrophe. The promise of “never again” faded as media attention waned and the world moved on, back to business as usual.
Today, millions of Rohingya refugees remain in neighboring countries and beyond, their lives suspended in uncertainty, criminalized and marginalized, with little to no progress toward safe, dignified and voluntary repatriation.
A bleak déjà vu
The tragic reality is precisely because the world has failed to act and hold up its end of the “never again” promise, we are witnessing history repeat itself. The Rohingya, once again, face violence and persecution in 2024, this time in the crossfire of a civil war, unfolding since the 2021 military coup, and at the hands of two different parties.
It is as if a sequel of what happened in 2017 is being made with the Arakan Army (AA) added as the new cast: Rohingya men, women and children being killed as they flee. Rohingya villages are set on fire and their identity and history is being erased. Many have drowned in an attempt to flee the war to refugee camps across the Naf River in Bangladesh.
While the case in front of the International Court of Justice (ICJ) is a significant step in seeking justice for the atrocities committed against the Rohingya in 2017, mere court cases do not automatically translate into meaningful change on the ground for the victims.
The reality is that the solution will not come from outside, but from inside where the problem originated. But is this possible?
What will it require to address its root causes?
The silence from various revolutionary forces on the recent atrocities against the Rohingya cast doubt on their commitment to equal rights for all. It appears as if principles of non-discrimination and equality are selectively applied, conveniently ignored when they don’t align with political expediency. True justice requires not only legal accountability but also the application of principles and unwavering action to protect vulnerable communities and prevent further atrocities.
If we remain silent about the AA’s human rights violations because we need their strength in the struggle against the Burmese military, it indicates that we haven’t learnt from past mistakes of the National League for Democracy (NLD) government defending the military’s atrocities to maintain its hold on power.
From victims to pawns
For its part, the Burmese military – the very architect of the Rohingya genocide – continues to do what it is good at: manipulation of different ethnic groups, alternating carrot and stick approaches between the Rakhine and Rohingya to keep its grip on Arakan (Rakhine) State. First came the forced conscription of Rohingyas, then the depraved “voluntary” recruitment and “self-defense” training of internally displaced Rohingya youth.
The Burmese military regime exploited the very conditions that they created to manipulate the Rohingya to fight for them against the AA— offering not only weapons but a sense of authority to a handful of young Rohingyas.
Consider a 12-year-old Rohingya child trapped in an Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) camp after the 2017 massacres. Having never known life outside the camp or experienced true freedom, this child, now aged 19 in 2024, suddenly receives a gun from the Burmese military and is granted the freedom to roam.
Given the lack of education in the camp, it’s no surprise that this teenager embraces his newfound freedom, running wild with the new ‘toy’ and obeying those who provided it. While such cases comprise probably less than 0.5 percent of the Rohingya population, in the context of opposition to the Burmese military, they become fertile ground for the collective punishment of the entire Rohingya community.
In the meantime, the Burmese military continues to indiscriminately attack Rakhine civilians, many of whom, in turn, now view Rohingyas as sympathizers to the regime.
For us Rohingya, we have all known that armed gangs claiming to fight in our name – the same ones collaborating with the Burmese military – are the ones who have increasingly preyed on their own people, from the kidnapping and trafficking of children, the killing of Rohingya community leaders, sexual violence, and the recent forced recruitment of youth from the refugee camps in neighbouring Bangladesh.
Many of the camp-level leaders of these groups, the very ones who conduct the kidnappings, are themselves children, who are supplied with weapons, emboldened by positions and a sense of impunity.
While condemnation of and concerns about these groups are regularly raised internally within the Rohingya community, many refrain from public denunciation due to fear of direct repercussions towards their families and relatives in the camps.
While it is well known among the community that these groups do not represent the entire Rohingya people, the lack of significant Rohingya representation within the emerging political mechanisms of the new Myanmar also inadvertently pushes some Rohingya towards them, in the absence of political alternatives.
These dynamics make it all that much easier for sweeping assumptions to be made about Rohingya loyalty and intentions – triggering accusations of betrayal and acts of collective punishment.
A new Myanmar’s moral compass
Right is right, and wrong is wrong, no matter the timing. If we refuse to stand for what is right because it’s inconvenient, then we betray the very idea of the new Myanmar we claim to fight for. How will the new Myanmar differ from the old if we allow today’s liberators to become tomorrow’s oppressors?
Leadership during revolution carries immense responsibility. It’s not just about seizing power; it’s about embodying moral courage. True leaders recognize that their actions shape the destiny of a nation. They transcend the politics of hatred, forge inclusive visions, keep intolerance in check, and actively work towards unity, reconciliation and lay the foundations for peaceful co-existence among the diverse peoples who constitute the nation. They prioritize justice, compassion, and human rights.
In Myanmar’s struggle for freedom, moral leadership isn’t a luxury—it’s an imperative. Only by upholding these principles can we break the cycle of tragedy and pave the way for a free, just and inclusive nation for all who call Myanmar their home.
Jaivet Ealom is an author and fellow at the Myanmar Policy and Community Knowledge (MyPACK) Hub, at the University of Toronto’s Asian Institute.
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