The Rohingya in Myanmar have faced severe atrocities amounting to systematic genocide at the hands of the Myanmar Junta over decades. Especially during violent campaigns in 2017 and subsequent years, which many international observers and human rights organizations have classified as ethnic cleansing and genocide, the military’s operations have involved mass killings, burnings of villages, sexual violence, and forced deportations. They have also been subjected to mass arrests and destruction of their homes and livelihoods, systematically. Recent reports indicate deliberate deprivation of food and essential supplies to Rohingyas, worsening their humanitarian crisis. Like it or not, Rohingyas today are the forgotten and utterly marginalised wretched of the earth.
Even Aung San Suu Kyi was widely criticized for her response, or lack thereof, to these atrocities. She publicly denied the severity of the violence and did little in condemning the military, or preventing or stopping the violence, leading to accusations of complicity or neglect in addressing the genocide, which at the time even led to some voices calling for the revoking of her Nobel prize.
These acts collectively constitute a deliberate campaign to erase the Rohingya population, reflecting a pattern of systematic persecution and genocide.
The truth is, in an age of instant outrage and fleeting headlines, few stories have lingered so long in the world’s blind spot as that of the Rohingyas, a people unwanted in the land of their birth and unwelcome in the land where they now struggle to survive. Stranded between Myanmar’s brutal exclusion and Bangladesh’s overburdened hospitality, more than a million Rohingyas remain stateless, voiceless, hungry and increasingly hopeless. That they continue to languish in precarious limbo is not because the world lacks the means to help, but because it lacks the will.
The Rohingya’s plight is hardly recent or new. Decades of systemic discrimination culminated in the 1982 Citizenship Law, stripping them of legal identity and branding them as illegal immigrants from Bangladesh, despite generations in Rakhine State. Repeated waves of persecution – displacement, arson, rape, and mass killings – have forced many across the border into Bangladesh. The 2017 exodus drew global outrage but failed to prompt meaningful action. Today, Rohingya refugees live in overcrowded camps in Cox’s Bazar, reliant on humanitarian aid, denied work, mobility, and dignity. While Bangladesh historically showed compassion by hosting over a million Rohingyas amidst scarce resources, recent policies have shifted. Facing domestic pressures and regional influences, the current government adopts a more cautious stance, prioritizing containment and repatriation over the previous government’s open hospitality, highlighting a more hesitant approach to this enduring crisis.
In any case, a host country cannot shoulder the burden of history all alone. The crisis is no longer just Myanmar’s shame or Bangladesh’s burden; it is a test of the world’s collective humanity.
And on that test, the international community is failing. Utterly. And repeatedly.
Why has so little been done? The answer, sadly, is not ignorance but impotence. The United Nations has repeatedly described the Rohingya situation as “a textbook case of ethnic cleansing.” Independent investigations have gone further, pointing to genocide. Yet, for all the UN’s words, its actions have been hamstrung by politics, particularly, by now the customary obstructionism of China and Russia at the Security Council.
Both nations have consistently vetoed or diluted resolutions aimed at holding Myanmar accountable. Cloaking their inaction in the language of sovereignty and non-interference, they have blocked sanctions, resisted investigative mandates, and even shielded Myanmar from rhetorical censure. The result: impunity for the perpetrators, and unending limbo of unimaginable proportions for the victims.
But then again, poor UN itself has been increasingly growing irrelevant.
Let us be clear: this is not principled neutrality — it is a failure of moral leadership. Sovereignty is not a licence for ethnic persecution. And shielding atrocity behind the veil of non-intervention is neither strategic nor civilised. It appears to be a form of slow-motion ethnic erasure, which seems to align with the state policies of both China and Russia regarding their stance on Myanmar.
Their reasons are not far to seek, of course. Myanmar is a neighbour, a market, and a strategic partner. Its ports and pipelines are valuable to Beijing’s Belt and Road Initiative. Its regime buys Russian arms. Both powers see Western-led humanitarian interventions with suspicion, shaped by bitter memories of Iraq and Libya. But to let these geopolitical calculations eclipse the urgent needs of a persecuted people is not realpolitik — it is pathetic abdication.
Here is an appeal, then, not to interests, but to conscience of China and Russia: Do not let your global stature be diminished by your silence. Do not let your historic legacies be tarred by association with ethnic cleansing. Use your influence not to obstruct justice, but to enable it. Insist on repatriation, but only when it is safe, voluntary, and dignified. Push for reforms in Myanmar’s citizenship laws, not for the sake of the West, but for the sake of regional stability, and for the honour of humanity, and that of your own.
As for the wider international community, the time for symbolic gestures is well over. The Rohingyas do not need pity; they need policy. A durable solution will not come from grandstanding, but from coordinated action across five fronts.
First, repatriation must remain the goal, but not under current conditions. Myanmar must guarantee citizenship, security, and rights. Until then, no refugee should be forced back, and any pilot return must be voluntary and closely monitored.
Second, Bangladesh must be supported, not left to manage alone. Donors must increase aid, not reduce it. More importantly, Rohingyas in camps must be allowed to live with dignity, unmolested by Myanmar Junta: education for children, vocational training for youth, and controlled access to employment. This is not integration by stealth; it is investment in future stability of the region as a whole.
Third, third-country resettlement, though not a mass solution, must be revived for the most vulnerable. Western countries, Gulf states, and Southeast Asian neighbours can and must each do their part – even symbolic numbers would relieve pressure and offer hope.
Fourth, Myanmar must face pressure, not mere appeals. Targeted sanctions on its military elite, arms embargoes, and international criminal investigations must continue — and ASEAN must stop coddling the junta with silence and symbolic seats. A regime that displaces its own people should not enjoy regional legitimacy. Mass-scale cleansing of the Rohingyas must not be allowed to be par for the course.
Finally, and perhaps most crucially, the narrative must shift. The Rohingyas must no longer be portrayed as a problem to manage, but as people to protect. They are not invaders, but victims. Not a burden, but fellow humans with hopes, histories, families and futures. The world must tell their story, not just in reports, but in classrooms, media, and policymaking tables.
The truth is, the Rohingyas have been stateless for too long to believe in swift salvation. But justice delayed need not be justice denied. The arc of history may be long — but only if we bend it. The choice is ours.
In 1945, the world said “Never again.” In 1994, post the Rwandan genocide, it said it again. Now, in 2025, with a million Rohingyas trapped in the grey zones of geopolitics, the world is watching — and waiting.
This time, let us not fail. Else humanity will not be judged kindly by eternity.
