In the past two weeks, an estimated 270,000 people – Muslims who call themselves Rohingya – have streamed across the border into Bangladesh to escape violence in Myanmar's Rakhine state, according to the U.N.'s refugee agency. Many have walked through the jungle for days, surviving off only rainwater. As they arrive, some simply collapse from exhaustion. A few bear bullet wounds they say were inflicted by the Myanmar military and relate tales of atrocities, including mass killings.
The Rohingya may have found not so much sanctuary as a temporary reprieve. In truth, they face a bleak future. Myanmar's government is unlikely to accept them back; prior to August, Bangladesh was already home to nearly 400,000 Rohingya refugees who have fled bouts of violence and persecution since the early 1990s. They are tolerated but not accepted by Dhaka, which considers them Myanmar's problem, and a burden.
In Myanmar, most see the flight of the Rohingya as an answer to a problem rather than a tragedy. Speaking in the Myanmar capital Naypyitaw on Sept. 6, National Security Adviser U Thaung Tun said only those who could provide "proof" of citizenship would be allowed to return. For most of the Rohingya this will be an impossible task, for they have been unable to access citizenship through the country's discriminatory citizenship law.
An international solution is clearly needed: one that returns the Rohingya to Myanmar (where they are referred to as Bengalis), and ensures they receive basic fundamental rights. But given the domestic and international tensions the recent fighting in northern Rakhine has aroused, that seems an unlikely outcome.
The crisis, which erupted in October 2016 when the Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army (ARSA) staged surprise attacks on police posts in northern Rakhine state, has shattered hopes that the National League for Democracy, the ruling civilian party, will somehow break the deadlock in Rakhine. Since 2012 that region has been wracked by deadly bouts of communal conflict between Buddhists and Muslims.
Two factors have marked this outbreak of violence as different from previous episodes in Rakhine. The first is the government's declaration of the ARSA as a terrorist group, its repeated use of the terrorist tag, and its assertion that Myanmar's sovereignty is at risk.
The second is the information war being waged by a network of people on both sides of the conflict seeking to spread propaganda and rally support for their cause. As a result, the few moderate voices are being drowned out in an echo chamber of hate.
I've covered Myanmar and Rakhine state for nearly 10 years, including outbreaks of communal conflict in 2012. The Rohingya have always been despised, but the level of loathing now shown toward the group – particularly on social media – is unlike anything I've witnessed.
Just months after taking office in March 2016, the NLD government appointed an Advisory Commission led by former U.N. Secretary-General Kofi Annan to investigate the issues underpinning conflict in western Myanmar and make recommendations on how they can be addressed.
On Aug. 24, the Advisory Commission on Rakhine state released its final report following several days of meetings with the government. The report hit all the right notes; the mood afterward was upbeat, and lifted further by the government announcement that it would form a high-level committee to oversee implementation.
There was a sense that, if the NLD was able to act on the bulk of the recommendations, there could be real progress. The Rohingya would be the big winners, but positive change would also benefit the government, as it would address international criticism of the country's leading human rights catastrophe.
Within hours those hopes were dashed, when the ARSA launched fresh attacks. The timing was clearly designed to undermine and derail the implementation of the Rakhine commission report. The offensive raises questions about the ARSA's motives – particularly whether it is genuine in its stated goal of political rights for the Rohingya – and whether it is taking cues from actors outside the country.
The ARSA attacks have prompted a fierce response from the NLD government and military, both on the ground and on social media. Soldiers have been sent in to restore order, with allegations of abuses, including the burning of homes and indiscriminate firing, not far behind. Their presence is driving the exodus of Muslims into Bangladesh, while ethnic Rakhine and other minorities, who have been targeted by the ARSA, have sought safety in government-controlled areas. As usual, it's the ordinary civilians who suffer.
It's hard not to see this latest round of violence playing into the hands of Myanmar's military. It sees an opportunity from the conflict to build public support and legitimacy, and has taken a tougher line on the Rohingya than the NLD government. Speaking at a ceremony on Sept. 1, Commander-in-Chief Min Aung Hlaing vowed to "defend the country with strong patriotism" and also described "the Bengali problem" as "an unfinished job" that needed to be settled through the citizenship law – a process the Rohingya distrust and have mostly rejected in the past.
This approach is not without risk. Coupled with the abuses allegedly taking place on the ground, it could backfire if it drives more young Rohingya men to the ARSA and lead to a further escalation in the conflict.
In this volatile climate, many are asking about the role of Aung San Suu Kyi, a co-founder and current head of the NLD who leads the government through the specially created "state counsellor" position. A winner of both the Sakharov and Nobel Peace prizes, she spent 15 years in house arrest under military rule. She has blamed terrorists for the violence in Rakhine state. Her attitude toward events in that region has been difficult to understand, much less reconcile with her reputation as a democracy icon.
Public sentiment and the priorities of the military make it hard for her to act, but she is also the only politician with the standing to calm the emotions that have been unleashed in recent weeks. She has not sought to use her political capital to rein in the more extreme voices. Instead, her government has only further inflamed the situation.
Coupled with restrictions on access, the propaganda has made sorting fact from fiction difficult. Some journalists have managed to enter Maungdaw, the township bordering Bangladesh, but have also been forced to leave due to threats from local Rakhine civilians. Others are relying on accounts from those fleeing the violence.
Tensions will inevitably subside to some degree in the coming weeks. But the government's plan for Rakhine state – the implementation of the Annan commission's recommendations – is in tatters. It seems to have no alternative, which will enable the military and nationalists to drive the government's agenda.
The ARSA is feeding off the hopelessness of the Rohingya. The government needs to give them a reason to reject insurgency and terrorism, but events of recent weeks suggest it is unlikely to deliver.