In the shadowed realm of Myanmar's Rakhine State lies the legacy of the Rohingya, heirs to the ancient Arakan. This besieged civilization, rich in history but scarred by strife, faces an existential threat — erasure from their homeland and the world's consciousness. Their untold story, marked by persecution and resilience, pierces the dense silence, seeking a voice amidst the global din. The Granite Tower (GT) unveils the plight of a population clinging to their identity, fighting for survival against the relentless tide of history.
Historically an independent kingdom, Arakan’s social fabric began to unravel with the Burmese Dynasty's conquest in 1784, starting a century-old narrative stained with blood and ingrained mistrust. With the arrival of British colonization in 1823, Muslims, comprised of both local Rohingya and immigrant Bangladeshi, were favored for administrative roles, while the Burmese Buddhists were often left unsupported and threatened. World War II escalated the conflict when the occupying Japanese forces supported the Burmese, while the British continuously backed the Muslims. The division fueled further violence, leaving deep scars that did not heal even after the Japanese left in 1945.
Rohingya Muslims and Burmese Buddhists
Burma's new government denied the Rohingya citizenship and implemented countless military crackdowns starting from 1948, before forcibly driving 200,000 Muslims, including the Rohingya, to Bangladesh in 1978. They further enacted the 1982 Citizenship Law, which excluded the Rohingya as an official ethnic group, effectively rendering them stateless in their historical homeland of Arakan. The Burmese government argued that Rohingya people were not Burmese but “Bengalis” who immigrated to the country with British encouragement after the 1823 Anglo-Burman war, despite substantial evidence of their ancestral roots in the region.
By the 2000s, the Rohingya, along with other minority groups like the Kokang and Panthay, faced severe discrimination. The situation deteriorated further in 2012 with a riot involving Rohingya Muslims and Burmese Buddhists, leading to a systematic security force operation in 2017 that targeted the Rohingya in Arakan. According to *The Guardian*, this operation displaced an estimated 700,000 villagers, driving them to seek sanctuary in Bangladesh. This long-standing conflict has moved beyond a religious disagreement, metamorphizing into a historical enmity that challenges the essence of identity and coexistence.
Forced Pariah
For the Rohingya, the doors to their homeland in Burma, now known as Myanmar, have been irrevocably shut, trapping them in a limbo that neither accepts them nor allows them to settle. That limbo is Kutupalong, located near Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh, a region that is characterized by heavy rainfall and high humidity and is prone to natural disasters such as flooding and landslides during monsoon season.
When the Rohingya first came to the refugee camp sites, the host country welcomed them with warmth, and international donors swarmed in. However, due to the emergence of international crises such as the war in Ukraine, the Taliban’s return to power in Afghanistan, and the most recent Palestine−Israel conflict, aid and resources started dwindling; according to *Time*, less than half of the 875 million United States dollars (USD) required for funding the camp this year has been met.
Ishrat Bibi, a Rohingya student in Asian University for Women, told GT that Rohingya youth are now limited to basic primary schooling provided by United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), without provisions for secondary or higher education. Food scarcity has also worsened due to a reduction in World Food Programme (WFP) support from 12 USD to 8 USD per person, leaving many reliant on international community for daily ration. It passively induced illegal activities such as human trafficking, violence and arson which have destroyed thousands of shelters since 2021, leaving families opting for early marriage to protect their daughters.
Furthermore, Rohingya people can only go to non-profit healthcare facilities named Brac Hospital and MSF Hospital if they get sick or injuries, pointing out a serious lack of services for non-communicable diseases. To make matters worse, a portion of the population has been forcibly relocated to Bhasan Char, a remote island in the Bay of Bengal, which raises further concerns regarding isolation and vulnerability. More importantly, repatriation efforts have repeatedly failed, hindered by the lack of democratic processes in Myanmar and exacerbated by local drug gangs that rely on a desperate population and thus actively resist advocacy for the Rohingya.
An Endangered Culture
The once vibrant tapestry of Rohingya culture is fading away as the younger generation in the refugee camps abandons traditional attire like the *longyi* wrap-around cloth for T-shirts and pants distributed by aid organizations. The rich flavors of their spicy fish and vegetable diet are also being supplanted by the more monotonous Bengali staples of potato and *daal*. Integral to the oral traditions of Rohingya culture are the folk songs that are rich in rhythmic verse and embedded with the collective wisdom of their history, not only entertaining but educating, relaying the values and knowledge of their ancestors. Yet, in the shadow of displacement, these cultural artifacts, once passed down like heirlooms within families, now risk being lost.
As they strive to integrate into the host community for survival, their language and customs undergo forced adaptation. *Cultural Survival* reported that Rohingya refugees are compelled to speak in the mixed tongues of their surroundings — a profound influence that seeps into daily communication and even the sanctuary of home. Adding to this is the unintentional complicity of non-governmental organizations (NGOs) and agencies, who promote the mixed use of language within the camps. This melding of cultures ironically aligns with the Myanmar government's narrative of the Rohingya as foreign interlopers.
While the Rohingya culture struggles to persist, hopes have been raised through the Asian University for Women's efforts in Chittagong, Bangladesh, the digital archive of Art Garden Rohingya, and the translation of human rights declarations into Hanifi Rohingya. These measures, however small, light a path toward cultural preservation. However, without the sustained embrace of the global community, the flame of Rohingya heritage risks being extinguished in the vast darkness of indifference.