Op-Ed |
Over the past eight years, the hope of returning home has remained one of the few constants for the Rohingya community in exile. Repatriation—safe, voluntary, and dignified—has been the language of international diplomacy, repeated in communiqués and echoed in press briefings. Yet on the ground, that possibility appears more remote than ever.
Myanmar today is no closer to peace. In fact, over the past six months, it has moved further away from any condition that could make return viable. The country is now experiencing one of its most violent and fragmented phases since the 2021 military coup, with fighting intensifying between the junta and a wide array of ethnic armed organizations (EAOs). Among the fiercest battlegrounds is Rakhine State, the historic homeland of the Rohingya.
A Country Fragmented by Fire
In Rakhine alone, the Arakan Army (AA) now reportedly controls 15 out of 17 townships, including several strategic military outposts previously held by the junta. The AA’s rapid territorial gains have been celebrated by some as signs of ethnic resistance gaining momentum, yet for many civilians, the shifting lines of control have not translated into safety.
Recent international reporting, including from Al Jazeera, VOA, and the UN News, indicates that both the Myanmar military and various armed groups have engaged in practices that threaten the safety of non-combatants. For the Rohingya in particular—a community historically targeted, stateless, and severely disenfranchised—the current instability is a continuation of long-standing exclusion.
Rohingya families, already displaced once or multiple times, now face a new round of uncertainty. Reports of forced recruitment, land confiscation, and village-level intimidation by different actors have raised concerns that the Rohingya are once again caught between competing forces that offer them little protection and even less agency.
Displacement Without Destination
According to the United Nations and other humanitarian monitors, thousands of Rohingya have recently fled renewed violence in Rakhine, some attempting to cross into Bangladesh, others moving internally toward already overcrowded and under-resourced areas. These movements are not mere footnotes to the war; they reflect the deep vulnerability of a people continuously pushed from one margin to another.
Meanwhile, in neighboring Bangladesh, where over a million Rohingya have lived since 2017, the strain is increasingly visible. Resources are stretched, donor fatigue is growing, and local tensions simmer beneath the surface. Though the government of Bangladesh has continued to advocate for repatriation, the feasibility of return under present conditions remains highly questionable.
Between Political Optics and Ground Realities
Myanmar’s military has announced a general election for December 2025—a move largely seen by observers as an attempt to present a veneer of legitimacy while consolidating power. The Council on Foreign Relations and other watchdogs have raised concerns over the credibility of any such process, particularly in a country where political opposition is criminalized and entire regions remain outside central control.
In this landscape, repatriation becomes more than a logistical question. It becomes a political statement, one that risks validating a system that continues to exclude Rohingya from its national narrative. Any initiative that seeks to return people without securing their rights—citizenship, security, dignity—is not repatriation. It is relocation into uncertainty.
Formal bilateral talks between Bangladesh and Myanmar continue, but they operate in a vacuum. Without addressing the root causes of displacement, and without including Rohingya voices in shaping the terms of their own return, such discussions risk becoming performative. Agreements signed on paper will not translate into real safety on the ground unless the structural conditions change.
Rethinking What “Return” Means
This is not a call to abandon the aspiration of repatriation. On the contrary, the right of return remains a fundamental pillar of justice. But in the face of ongoing violence, impunity, and political manipulation, the international community must be clear-eyed about what is possible and what is not.
Current realities may require more nuanced, adaptive approaches—ones that prioritize protection and empowerment in the short to medium term, while continuing to advocate for long-term solutions anchored in justice. That may mean investing in education, legal identity, and livelihoods where Rohingya currently reside, without making such efforts appear as a substitute for future return. It may also require broadening the conversation to include regional mechanisms, third-country pathways, and stronger international monitoring of conditions inside Myanmar.
These steps are not admissions of failure. They are acknowledgments of complexity.
A Way Forward Rooted in Dignity
For now, the task before the global community is not simply to ask when the Rohingya will go back, but how they can be protected while they wait, empowered while they remain, and heard while their future hangs in balance. The language of durable solutions must include patience, pluralism, and above all, the principle that no return is safe until rights are restored.
We believe in the power of narrative to uphold truth, advocate for justice, and amplify the voices of those who are unheard. As the world watches Myanmar’s deepening crisis, it is vital not to forget those for whom “going home” is not just a policy goal, but a personal dream clouded by risk.
Not all returns are safe. And not all silences are neutral.
