by Debashis Chakrabarti
Debashis Chakrabarti is a political columnist, Commonwealth Fellow (UK), and internationally recognized academic whose career bridges journalism, policy, and higher education leadership. A former journalist with The Indian Express, he brings the precision of investigative reporting to his political analysis and scholarly work. He has served as Professor and Dean at leading institutions across the UK, India, Africa, and the Middle East, with expertise in media studies, political communication, and governance.
—-
In the camps of Rakhine and Cox’s Bazar, a people are being slowly erased. As the junta tightens its grip, and regional powers pursue strategic quietude, the world must confront a crisis that is no longer humanitarian—it is existential.
In a world saturated with crises, the Rohingya story struggles for space. Unlike wars that roar on camera or coups that grip headlines, the plight of the Rohingya is quieter—its cruelty measured in starvation, bureaucratic limbo, and enforced invisibility.
In Myanmar’s troubled western region of Rakhine, a silent atrocity continues to unfold. More than 145,000 Rohingya remain confined to decrepit camps where humanitarian access has been systematically cut off by the country’s ruling military junta. The blockade is comprehensive: no food, no medicine, no hope. At least 25 have died from starvation this year alone. Children suffer from acute malnutrition.
Medical clinics are shuttered. Widowed and abandoned, many women are driven into perilous survival economies—relying on alms or coerced into transactional sex to endure. Rohingya men are conscripted into military service, coerced by the regime’s cruel calculus: fight for your oppressors, and your family will be fed.
This is not merely a consequence of war. It is policy by design.
The politics of neglect
The desperation within Myanmar is mirrored in Bangladesh, where nearly one million Rohingya have taken refuge in Cox’s Bazar—the world’s largest refugee camp. What began as a sanctuary has devolved into a humanitarian stalemate. The Rohingya in Bangladesh are not recognised as refugees with rights. They are denied the ability to work, access education, or build permanent homes. And they are increasingly denied the most basic dignity: food.
As global humanitarian funding plummets—exacerbated by U.S. aid cuts under the Trump administration—relief agencies have been compelled to halve food rations. Clinics now prioritise only emergency cases. Programs for child welfare, mental health, and gender-based violence prevention have been suspended. Those who can, flee again—boarding precarious boats to Malaysia or Indonesia. Hundreds have drowned in the Bay of Bengal and the Andaman Sea.
Yet the crisis intensifies. In recent months, an additional 150,000 Rohingya have crossed into Bangladesh from Myanmar, many of them visibly malnourished and traumatised. The burden grows, while the international response contracts.
A region paralysed
The political response from Asia has been characterised by paralysis, ambivalence, and, increasingly, complicity.
ASEAN continues to cite its policy of non-interference, rendering it institutionally incapable of addressing the junta’s violations. Bangladesh—overwhelmed and under-resourced—is firm in its desire to see the Rohingya repatriated, but without a viable framework for voluntary and safe return. India, Malaysia, and Indonesia, despite their historical roles in offering refuge, have grown cold to the crisis, citing security and economic concerns. China, meanwhile, fills the vacuum not with empathy, but with infrastructure.
Beijing’s approach to Myanmar has been calculated and strategic. Its China-Myanmar Economic Corridor—a network of roads, pipelines, ports, and railways—connects China’s landlocked Yunnan province to the Indian Ocean. For China, Myanmar’s “stability” under the junta is paramount. It has shielded the regime from tougher international sanctions, welcomed General Min Aung Hlaing as a legitimate state actor, and treated Myanmar’s military leadership with diplomatic deference.
It is a troubling realignment—one that signals regional preference for authoritarian continuity over democratic restoration.
A democracy in name only
Myanmar’s military regime has lost substantial territory since the coordinated offensive by ethnic armed groups in late 2023. Insurgents now control large swathes of border regions. Yet the junta, through brutal airstrikes and forced conscription, has retaken certain towns and now speaks of holding elections later this year or in early 2026.
The proposition is farcical. The National League for Democracy has been banned. Its leader, Aung San Suu Kyi, remains imprisoned. Millions of citizens are displaced. The military’s control extends only to a fraction of the national territory, yet China and others are quietly encouraging a regional embrace of this electoral charade.
Any international acceptance of these elections would amount to an endorsement of repression. The Rohingya will not vote. They will not be counted. They will not be named. Their exclusion is total—and by design.
The moral test of the Asian Century
The international community, and particularly Asia’s emerging democracies, must recognise that this is no longer a Myanmar problem. It is a regional indictment.
If the 21st century is indeed to be the “Asian Century,” it must not be built atop stateless graves and shuttered camps. The crisis of the Rohingya is a test of Asia’s collective conscience—and its capacity to shape a regional order that respects rights alongside growth.
Bangladesh must be supported—not abandoned—for hosting nearly a million displaced people. Humanitarian funding must be restored. Regional powers must reject any political settlement in Myanmar that excludes ethnic minorities. And China, if it wishes to lead, must recognise that infrastructure without inclusion is merely complicity by concrete.
There remains one path forward: coordinated regional diplomacy backed by real consequences, meaningful repatriation, and the restoration of Rohingya citizenship. But time is running out.
Every delay deepens the loss—not just for the Rohingya, but for the moral architecture of Asia itself.
