In the western reaches of Myanmar, the people of Rakhine State — both ethnic Rakhine Buddhists and Rohingya Muslims — are staring down the barrel of famine. Entire towns and villages are now cut off from the outside world by a military blockade that has brought the delivery of food, medicine and humanitarian assistance to a complete standstill. These are not the chaotic conditions of war, where supply lines have simply broken down. This is a deliberate strategy — a calculated decision by the Myanmar junta to use starvation as a weapon against its own people, echoing the most chilling episodes of modern conflict.
Reports describe desperate civilians living off rice husks, wild plants and whatever scraps they can barter in local markets — if they can find any at all. Aid workers have been shut out entirely. The UN, nongovernmental organizations and local charities are blocked from entering the hardest-hit areas. Hospitals are running out of even the most basic medicines. Pregnant women, children and the elderly are dying from preventable causes. Yet the world’s attention remains elsewhere, distracted by other crises.
This is not the first time Myanmar’s military has resorted to siege tactics. During the height of the campaign against the Rohingya in 2017, the army systematically destroyed food sources, razed farmland and poisoned wells to drive entire communities out of the country. What we are witnessing now in Rakhine is the same strategy repackaged — but this time the blockade affects everyone in its path, regardless of ethnicity. Starvation is being wielded not as an incidental tragedy, but as a means of control and punishment.
In some areas, the Arakan Army — the dominant armed group in Rakhine — has consolidated power, promising to govern more responsibly than the junta. Yet even under its control, aid flows remain perilously thin. The Arakan Army’s own political calculations and military priorities often mean that humanitarian needs take a back seat. The result is that civilians are squeezed between two forces: a junta that uses hunger as a weapon and local armed groups that are unwilling or unable to ensure the delivery of lifesaving supplies.
The global response has been tepid at best. Statements of concern have been issued; little else has been done
Dr. Azeem Ibrahim
International law is unequivocal on this point. Article 54 of Additional Protocol I to the Geneva Conventions explicitly prohibits the starvation of civilians as a method of warfare. The Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court classifies it as a war crime. The blockade of Rakhine meets every definition of this crime. Yet, despite the legal clarity, the global response has been tepid at best. Statements of concern have been issued; little else has been done.
If the moral imperative to act were not enough, regional powers must also consider the strategic consequences of doing nothing. Rakhine is not an isolated pocket of suffering; it is a geopolitical fault line. The longer the blockade persists, the greater the risk of mass displacement into neighboring countries. Bangladesh, already hosting nearly a million Rohingya refugees, will bear the brunt of any new influx. India will face instability along its northeastern frontier. And the Association of Southeast Asian Nations, whose credibility has already been tarnished by its ineffective handling of the Myanmar crisis, will find itself further sidelined.
The urgency of this moment demands a shift in thinking. The traditional model — negotiating humanitarian access through the junta in Naypyitaw — has failed repeatedly. Every delay buys the regime more time to tighten its stranglehold. Instead, regional actors must explore alternatives that bypass the junta entirely. Cross-border aid corridors from Bangladesh and India could be established with the support of the UN and willing donor countries. These lifelines would require political courage and coordinated diplomacy, but they are both feasible and necessary.
Bangladesh has historically been reluctant to engage directly with armed actors inside Myanmar for fear of diplomatic repercussions. But the scale of the crisis now unfolding in Rakhine may leave Dhaka with little choice. By working with neutral humanitarian intermediaries, it could facilitate the delivery of aid without becoming entangled in the politics of the conflict. India, with its extensive border in the northeast and influence in the Bay of Bengal, could also play a pivotal role — both as a logistical partner and as a counterweight to Chinese influence in Myanmar.
The traditional model — negotiating humanitarian access through the junta in Naypyitaw — has failed repeatedly
Dr. Azeem Ibrahim
ASEAN, for its part, must move beyond its consensus-bound inertia. If the bloc cannot agree on a united approach, its more capable members — Indonesia, Malaysia and Thailand — should lead a coalition of the willing to coordinate cross-border relief efforts. Humanitarian intervention in this form is not an act of aggression; it is an act of survival.
The alternative is grimly predictable. If the blockade continues unchecked, tens of thousands will die, not from bullets or bombs but from the slow agony of starvation and untreated disease. Entire communities will be hollowed out, creating a vacuum that will be filled by criminal networks, armed militias and extremist groups. The spillover will destabilize the region for years to come, fueling refugee flows, trafficking and insurgency.
History will not judge this moment kindly if we fail to act. The world stood by in 2017 when the Rohingya were driven from their homes in an act of genocide. Promises of “never again” rang hollow then and they will ring hollow now unless they are matched by decisive intervention.
The people of Rakhine have a saying that has now become a grim refrain: “If we die, we die.” It speaks of the resignation among those who have been abandoned by their government, their would-be liberators and the international community. That resignation should shame us into action. It is within our power to pierce the blockade, deliver aid and save lives. The question is whether the political will exists to do so before it is too late.
Rakhine is not yet a famine zone in the technical sense — but famine is not declared by those who starve; it is declared by those who count the dead. By the time the world’s bureaucracies are ready to acknowledge what is happening, the graves will already be full.
The time to act is not when the last warning signs flash red; it is now. Regional leaders, humanitarian agencies and the broader international community must treat Rakhine’s blockade as the war crime it is and respond with the urgency that such a crime demands. If they fail, the words “if we die, we die” will become not a lament, but an epitaph.
• Dr. Azeem Ibrahim is the director of special initiatives at the Newlines Institute for Strategy and Policy in Washington, DC. X: @AzeemIbrahim
