Myanmar: The Multiple Conundrums of Rohingya Policy

In their new book Myanmar's 'Rohingya' Conflict, Anthony Ware and Costas Laoutides have deftly traversed the disputatious minefields that surround the current Rohingya problem. They have done so with balanced, sensitive, and measured steps and analysis, providing insights into the complex, conflicting historical and present narratives that make up real and mythical history. This book provides the necessary background for judicious appraisal of the problems, if not simple means for their solution. We are in their debt.

Yet the minefields remain and are likely to expand over time. Multiple historical narratives regarding this group of people are in dispute, encumbered by various myths and half-truths that solidify into supposedly revealed wisdom. The present is emotionally and legally entrapped in the past. Responsibilities are ignored. Access is restricted or denied. Prejudices mount. And international outrage and internal suspicions of such outrage are increasing. The United Nations, world and regional powers, and the Myanmar government differ in their responses. But the longer solutions are ignored or denied, the more intractable the issues become.

Myanmar's political liberalization and technological changes have heightened confrontations. Better access to diverse information—informed or derogatory—and the relative freedom to express such views, together with the power of technology, have quickly spread vituperative prejudices and misinformation. Cumulative issues and group identity, but ones sparked by individual incidents, cause "ethnic entrepreneurs seeking to anchor their narratives in particular events" (p. 187). Flashpoints cannot easily be controlled and are likely to persist.

With careful, deliberative attention, the authors have sought what Confucius called "the rectification of names." The term "Rohingya" in political parlance exacerbates tensions and is restricted in Myanmar circles, as it implies a distinct indigenous group to Myanmar officialdom and contrasts with the officially preferred term "Bengali," indicating foreign origins. So too does Burmese terminology excite passions: lu myo (literally, "people type"—race, nationalism, ethnicity) and taing yin tha (literally, "sons of the country"—indigenous ethnic groups) have been "weaponized" to further particularistic goals and exclude others, although the terms can overlap. "The taing-yin-tha definition of indigeneity, and the politics that drive it, are not inherent in history or the context. Rather, they are weapons of exclusionary politics, largely perpetrated by General Ne Win and the military regime after the 1962 coup" (p. 200). The authors thus carefully delineate the various historical narratives of each group that are used to justify or vilify present policies and actions.

Perceived vulnerabilities, no matter how seemingly illogical or farfetched to the outside observer, provide avenues into explaining, but not justifying, various fears and are essential to comprehending the dynamics of antagonisms—past and future. Without considering their importance to a diverse set of actors, no solutions to the plight of the Rohingya are possible. These long-standing emotions have become more acute in the present period of rising ethnic, religious, and group nationalism, thus complicating solutions.

The Rohingya feel vulnerable to three sets of antagonists: most immediately to the essentially Burman Tatmadaw (the military), their oppressors; then to the Buddhist Rakhine (an ethnic group primarily on the Bay of Bengal coast); and finally to the Burman population at large. The Buddhist Rakhine people feel vulnerable to the expanding Rohingya population within their state, a demographic accentuated by a lack of education and healthcare. But having been treated as second-class citizens, the Buddhist Rakhine are also vulnerable to the dominant Burman majority and the Tatmadaw. This has been evident over history with the rise of ethnic and particularistic nationalism, the destruction of their kingdom by the Burmans in 1784, and the looting of their most revered religious image, the Mahamuni Buddha, which is now resident in Mandalay. The suppression in 2017 of a Rakhine celebration of their kingdom by the central government, resulting in several deaths, is simply a recent reminder of such deeply held emotions and residual but strong antipathies.

The Burman majority is evidently disturbed by the expanding Muslim population and has passed legislation to reverse this trend and restrict conversions to Islam. Even the supposed 4% Muslim population of Myanmar, excluding the Rohingya, may fear that Burman antipathy...