Hopelessness threatens to push Rohingya toward militancy

Arab News

01-04-2025

https://arab.news/58qfv
Last month's arrest of Ataullah Abu Ammar Jununi, the leader of the Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army, was heralded by some as a blow to Rohingya militancy. Yet, far from quelling unrest, this development may be igniting a new wave of radicalization among the Rohingya, a persecuted Muslim minority in Myanmar.
As hope dwindles amid worsening conditions — abandonment by former allies, slashed humanitarian aid and unrelenting statelessness — extremist groups are poised to exploit this despair, filling the void left by a fractured resistance. The history of Rohingya militancy, rooted in decades of oppression, suggests that such desperation could fuel a violent resurgence, with transnational actors like Pakistan's Lashkar-e-Taiba potentially stepping in to capitalize on the chaos.
The Rohingya's struggle is a saga of marginalization spanning generations. Denied citizenship under Myanmar's 1982 Citizenship Law, they have been systematically stripped of rights and relegated to statelessness in their own homeland, Rakhine State. The military's brutal campaigns, most notably the 2017 'clearance operations' that killed thousands and displaced more than 700,000 to Bangladesh, were labeled by the UN as a 'textbook example of ethnic cleansing.'
This violence birthed the Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army, a militant group formed in 2016 under Ataullah's leadership. Unlike the sophisticated insurgencies of Myanmar's ethnic armed organizations, its attacks — such as the 2017 assaults on security posts — were crude, often relying on makeshift weapons. But they provoked a disproportionate military response, amplifying the Rohingya's plight.
The Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army's emergence was less about ideology and more about survival — a desperate retort to decades of persecution. Earlier Rohingya resistance, like the Rohingya Solidarity Organization in the 1980s, had similarly sought to counter military oppression but lacked the cohesion or resources to sustain a movement. This group, though limited in scope, gave voice to a community with few options, its militancy a symptom of abandonment by both Myanmar's government and the international community.
Ataullah's arrest might have been expected to weaken the Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army, but it has instead exposed the fragility of the Rohingya's situation, driving many toward militancy as a last resort. Several converging factors are eroding what little hope remains.
First, the civil war in Myanmar, sparked by the 2021 military coup, has turned even potential allies against them. The Arakan Army, a powerful Rakhine Buddhist rebel group fighting the junta, was once seen as a possible partner in resisting military tyranny. However, it has increasingly targeted Rohingya villages, forcibly recruiting men and boys or displacing entire communities, as reported by The Independent. This betrayal underscores a bitter truth: even those opposing the junta do not recognize the Rohingya as legitimate citizens of Myanmar.
Second, the humanitarian crisis in Bangladesh's Cox's Bazar camps, home to more than a million Rohingya refugees, has worsened. The World Food Program recently announced plans to cut food rations by more than half due to funding shortages, a move activists warn will plunge an already vulnerable population into malnutrition and despair. For refugees like Mohammed Ayas, a 25-year-old father interviewed by The Independent, the camps offer no future — just a limbo of deprivation. His decision to join a rebel group training in Myanmar reflects a growing sentiment: when survival is at stake, violence becomes a viable option.
Finally, the international community's waning attention has left the Rohingya isolated. Conflicts in Ukraine and Gaza dominate headlines, while Myanmar's crisis fades from view. Aung San Suu Kyi, once a beacon of hope, remains imprisoned, her past silence on the Rohingya genocide now irrelevant. With no political solution in sight and repatriation talks stalled, the Rohingya see little prospect of reclaiming their homeland or dignity.
In this vacuum of hope, militancy gains traction. The arrest of Ataullah has not dismantled the underlying grievances — land theft, massacres and statelessness — that fuel resistance. Instead, it has fragmented the Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army, creating space for new, potentially more radical factions to emerge. Young men like Ayas, who trained in Myanmar's jungles, articulate a clear goal: 'We want our motherland back, and we will fight for it.' This resolve, born of desperation, is ripe for exploitation.
With no political solution in sight, the Rohingya see little prospect of reclaiming their homeland or dignity.
Dr. Azeem Ibrahim
Historically, when local resistance falters, transnational extremist groups step in. Lashkar-e-Taiba, notorious for the 2008 Mumbai attacks, has a track record of inserting itself into Muslim struggles worldwide. In the 1990s, its operatives trained in Afghanistan and Kashmir, offering expertise to beleaguered communities. The Rohingya, with their statelessness and proximity to South Asia, present a similar opportunity.
Reports of militant recruitment in Cox's Bazar, as detailed by The Independent, suggest that secretive commanders are already mobilizing refugees. If Lashkar-e-Taiba or other similar groups — drawn by shared religious identity or strategic interest — establish a foothold, the conflict could escalate beyond Myanmar's borders, destabilizing the region.
The Rohingya's turn to militancy is not inevitable, but the conditions are aligning ominously. The Arakan Army's hostility ensures they have no allies within Myanmar, while the junta's forced conscription of Rohingya men — ironic given its history of genocide — only deepens their alienation. In the camps, ration cuts signal abandonment by the world, pushing refugees toward those offering action over inertia. Extremist groups thrive in such despair, promising empowerment through violence where diplomacy has failed.
The Rohingya are not inherently militant, they are a people pushed to the brink. Restoring hope requires urgent action: pressuring Myanmar to grant citizenship, bolstering aid to avert starvation and mediating between the Arakan Army and Rohingya communities. Without these steps, the arrest of one leader will not end militancy — it will birth a hydra, with extremist groups ready to exploit the fallout. The world has ignored the cries of the Rohingya before, it cannot afford to do so again as desperation turns to violence and new actors enter the fray.