On September 30, the United Nations will host a high-level international conference on the Rohingya crisis. Convened under the leadership of Ambassador Philemon Yang, President of the UN General Assembly, this conference is being touted as a “pivotal moment” in the quest for a peaceful solution to one of the most shameful humanitarian tragedies of our time.
But let’s be clear: what the world needs in New York this September is not another well-meaning assembly of diplomats issuing platitudes and signing statements of intent. What it needs is a bold, action-oriented commitment to right a grotesque wrong, to demand accountability, and to engineer the return of the Rohingya people to their homeland— not as refugees, but as rightful citizens of Myanmar.
But if it succeeds— if the world can bring justice to the Rohingya, restore their dignity, and chart a path to peace in Myanmar— then 2025 may yet be remembered not just as another tragic milestone, but as the year the world finally acted. Let’s hope it rises to the occasion
The origins of this upcoming conference can be traced back to the 2024 United Nations General Assembly, when Bangladesh’s Chief Adviser Professor Muhammad Yunus issued a direct appeal for global leadership. A Nobel Peace laureate who understands both moral persuasion and political inertia, Yunus called for a new international compact to ensure a sustainable and dignified resolution to the Rohingya crisis.
In response, the UN General Assembly adopted a consensus resolution later that year, paving the way for the 2025 conference. Since then, Bangladesh has taken a proactive role, led by Dr. Khalilur Rahman, the High Representative on the Rohingya Crisis, who worked closely with Ambassador Yang to ensure the conference has both legitimacy and muscle.
Ambassador Yang has promised “all-out support for maximum participation and a pragmatic outcome.” Such language sounds promising. But if past international conferences are any guide, promises without follow-through are often the first step on the road to irrelevance.
To understand what’s at stake, one need only look at the state of Myanmar today. According to the United Nations, the country is on “a path to self-destruction.” Civil war, military violence, and lawlessness now define daily life. In March 2025, a catastrophic earthquake struck central Myanmar, but the conflict did not pause even for rescue operations. The military junta, driven by a zero-sum mentality and emboldened by a steady flow of weapons, remains determined to crush resistance movements.
Since the February 2021 coup, over 6,600 civilians have been killed by Myanmar’s security forces. More than 22,000 political prisoners languish in detention —including, most famously, former leader Aung San Suu Kyi. Political participation is a distant dream. And with another round of sham elections looming in late 2025 or early 2026, the stage is set for further bloodshed and deeper instability.
Within this bleak landscape, the plight of the Rohingya is particularly harrowing. More than 1.1 million of them fled to Bangladesh after the 2017 “clearance operations”— a euphemism for ethnic cleansing. The military’s intent was unambiguous: to erase the Rohingya from the fabric of Myanmar’s social and political life. Those who remain in Rakhine State— some 600,000 Rohingya— live in grinding poverty, subject to forced recruitment, abuse, and systemic exclusion.
In northern Rakhine, up to 80 percent of Rohingya civilians face acute food insecurity. Aid convoys are often unable to reach them due to the ongoing clashes between Myanmar’s military and the Arakan Army. To make matters worse, a new wave of recruitment from both sides threatens to turn Rohingya civilians into cannon fodder in a conflict not of their choosing.
Against this backdrop, the September conference must be far more than an exercise in moral theater. If it is to be remembered as a success, it must deliver on four core objectives.
First, it must establish a binding framework for the early and sustainable repatriation of Rohingya refugees. That means clear timelines, independent verification mechanisms, and strong international guarantees. Half-measures and vague commitments will only embolden Myanmar’s generals and frustrate host nations like Bangladesh, which has borne the humanitarian burden for nearly a decade.
Second, the conference must directly confront the root causes of the crisis. Repatriation without citizenship is a cruel joke. No amount of food parcels or goodwill can substitute for the legal recognition that the Rohingya are entitled to as citizens of Myanmar. Until this issue is resolved, any return will be neither voluntary nor dignified, and international efforts will continue to resemble an expensive holding pattern.
Third, the humanitarian imperative demands unhindered access to Rakhine State. The international community must establish robust logistics and diplomatic channels to deliver aid. Countries that have leverage over Myanmar— namely China, India, and ASEAN— must be pressed into service. The suffering in Rakhine is not only a moral stain but also a destabilizing force in the region. Poverty, displacement, and militarization are a combustible mix.
Fourth, the conference must make it impossible for Myanmar’s generals to ignore international pressure. That means naming and shaming, imposing targeted sanctions, and isolating the regime diplomatically. It also means engaging Myanmar’s neighbors and ASEAN with more than polite nudges. If Othman Hashim, the ASEAN special envoy, and UN envoy Julie Bishop are serious about forging peace, they must speak with one voice—and loudly.
For this conference to have moral and political weight, inclusivity is essential. That includes not only regional players and donor countries but also Rohingya representatives themselves. Nothing about the Rohingya should be decided without the Rohingya. Their voices, demands, and aspirations must be central to any resolution.
Moreover, key actors like the USA, the EU, China, and India must step up. Strategic ambivalence, especially from countries with deep economic ties to Myanmar, is no longer acceptable. The costs of inaction—both in human suffering and geopolitical fallout—are simply too high.
The 2025 International Conference on the Rohingya Crisis is not just another entry in the UN’s calendar of well-intentioned gatherings. It is a test of the world’s capacity to confront evil, rectify injustice, and prove that multilateralism can be more than an empty slogan.
The crisis has already endured far too long. But history does not ask whether we are tired of an issue—it asks whether we are willing to solve it. If this conference fails to produce results, it will not be because the issues were too complex or the circumstances too difficult. It will be because moral courage was in short supply.
But if it succeeds— if the world can bring justice to the Rohingya, restore their dignity, and chart a path to peace in Myanmar— then 2025 may yet be remembered not just as another tragic milestone, but as the year the world finally acted. Let’s hope it rises to the occasion.
