Episode #285: This Land Was Our Land
“We can't live under the mercy of Rakhine or the Burmese,” says Sujauddin Karimuddin. “Would you give your personal guarantee that the atrocities that have been committed over the decades, and centuries, for that matter, will not happen again?”
Sujauddin is an activist born in a region he refers to as “Rohang,” a land whose name gives rise to the term “Rohingya,” a Muslim ethnic minority in Myanmar. This area, on the country’s western coast just south of Bangladesh, has been known by several names over the centuries. More recently, it was known as Arakan during the Colonial era, then renamed “Rakhine State” by the Burmese regime in 1989 to, in a way, officially dis-identify any non-Rakhine in that region (even though the Rakhine people themselves are historically rather late arrivals to the area). Sujauddin says that the government has since banned the use of the word “Rohingya” in the media as a way to further erase their presence even from the language.
Due to the escalating persecution, Sujauddin left Myanmar at the age of 17. He eventually settled in Australia, where he continues to advocate for Rohingya rights. He has been working with refugee community centers in Malaysia, and involved in democracy activism in a number of different countries,.
Sujauddin describes how, during his childhood in the 1980s, the Rohingya had basically the same rights as their Rakhine Buddhist neighbors, although anti-Rohingya propaganda began to get traction in the previous two decades. They had the same national ID cards, and equal access to services like education and healthcare. There were even Rohingya in government roles, including the police and military. However, the Rohingya population had fallen to just about a quarter of the total population of Arakan, and they were living, in Sujauddin’s words, on the “goodwill” of the Rakhine people. But things began to take a turn for the worse starting with the 1982 Citizenship Law, which legitimized nascent anti-Rohingya prejudice, resulting in the loss of many rights and privileges, and ultimately, their citizenship. So even though Sujauddin had initially enjoyed full citizenship as a very young boy, with an ID card and even a passport, these were gradually taken away under the 1982 law, leaving him stateless in his own country. Domestically, the Rohingya also started to face severe travel restrictions, needing costly permits to move between cities, which crippled their businesses and trades. In addition, they had to endure other arbitrary limitations imposed by local authorities, further isolating them within their own homeland. “It was becoming more and more difficult or tightened around the Rohingyas,” he says. “And now who is implementing this? Although it was supported by the Burmese Government, the Rakhine local bureaucrats and law enforcement officers are the one who are imposing all these laws. And even civilians in many cases!”
As the years went by, the harassment and discrimination only increased; for example, the Rohingya were often forcibly required to provide labor on government projects. Sujauddin began to carry a knife with him, for protection on his way to school, where Rohingya students were discouraged and even violently prevented from attending classes. Discrimination against the Rohingya was now rampant, and students who preyed on them faced no repercussions from teachers. As a result, very few Rohingya students reached higher levels of education.
Sujauddin recalls trying to join a karate dojo with his Rakhine friends but being rejected by the instructors because he was “kalar," what he describes as “a very degrading term” for Rohingya people. As a workaround, he asked his friends if they would teach him karate outside the dojo. Shockingly, one of them responded, “We were told that if you teach any kalar this art, the punishment would be that the council of the martial arts would break one of your legs or your arms!”
Despite the worsening situation, it was still not uncommon for some Rohingya families to maintain positive relationships with Rakhine families, and even be close friends. Yet, despite those personal bonds, those same Rakhine individuals might still treat other Rohingya with prejudice and hostility! This bewildering contradiction of selective racism led Sujauddin to a powerful epiphany while listening to Malcolm X’s 1963 speech about the “House Negro” and the “Field Negro.” These words helped Sujauddin realize that the discriminatory environment he lived in had trapped him in a twisted mental prison—one that reinforced the divisions and prejudices shaping his reality.
“Because we were so oppressed, [if] we find any friendship, or anyone who would say a nice word, we would give our life for them! Any Rakhine who might say ‘You know what, you are a better kalar than the other kalar;’ we would say ‘You are my best friend,’ because we couldn't even comprehend he is technically saying ‘You're a better dog than the other dog.’ We couldn't comprehend that! We were like, ‘Wow, this guy! I have this guy at least, this I know. This is my friend. Regardless if he actually takes me as a friend or not.”
In 2012, Rakhine State experienced a wave of violent attacks against the Rohingya population. That upheaval resulted in the forced displacement of approximately 150,000 Rohingya into internally displaced persons (IDP) camps. Many Rohingya villages were burned to the ground, and entire communities were driven from their homes, sparking a major humanitarian crisis. This period marked a critical escalation in the persecution of the Rohingya, further entrenching their marginalization and suffering.
Unlike the later Rohingya genocide, this campaign was not initiated by the central military authorities. It was initiated by the Rakhine people with significant involvement from local political leaders; it was an outgrowth of the racism and inter-ethnic tensions in Rakhine state, which boiled over amid a more general anti-Muslim sentiment taking root in the country. Sujauddin describes how the Rohingya were targeted not only due to longstanding hostility from the Rakhine, but also because of their Muslim faith, which was further exploited to justify the violence against and dehumanization of the community. In many instances, the police and local paramilitary forces, often composed of Rakhine individuals, actively participated in the attacks. Sujauddin notes that the military did not actively instigate that wave of violence, but they played both sides. On the one hand, they usually did not intervene to stop it, yet they would also provide protection to Rohingya communities for money; in fact, Sujauddin, himself, sent money from abroad to pay for protection for those he could help. “People don't know about 2012 massacre, because they were focussed on the transition,” he says. “So the international community ignored the 2012 massacre against Rohingya people in Rakhine State! It was almost worse than the 2017 massacre. [In some] towns, they wiped out the entire Muslim population.”
But it only got worse. Sujauddin explains how, after their experience in 2012, a small group of Rohingya chose to act proactively against the institutions that had been oppressing them, and on August 17th, 2017, they attacked 20 police stations in the region (a story first reported by Rakhine journalist, Mratt Kyaw Thu). “This is the only time in the last 40 years, I think, that any Rohingya group has attacked the military directly,” he says. However, this backfired in a climate already saturated with aggressive, nationalist propaganda. The Burmese military, led by current junta leader Min Aung Hlaing, launched a systematic and horrific assault against the entire Rohingya community in response, which has since been officially labeled as genocide (a decision which the Holocaust Museum’s Andrea Gittleman detailed on a recent episode). “The military had a lot of public support, and already the Rakhine were on their side in this campaign. They said, ‘Let’s finish it,’” Sujauddin says. Min Aung Hlaing explicitly referred to the violence to come as “unfinished business,” reinforcing the notion among both the Burmese and Rakhine that they would “eliminate the entire Rohingya thing from our land.”
The result of the 2017 campaign was catastrophic for the Rohingya (as Scot Marciel detailed from his post as US Ambassador at the time). Lacking any organized armed resistance, they were unable to defend themselves against both the Rakhine forces and the military onslaught. Reflecting on the military’s plan to eradicate the Rohingya from Myanmar, Sujauddin notes, “if you think about it, they were successful over the years. I mean, in 2017, a million [Rohingya] people crossed the [Bangladesh] border, and 10,000 people have died. Today, over 80% of the Rohingya population is outside of the country! So in other words, they have already successfully driven out or killed many Rohingya. We don't know the exact population, but almost 4 million people are outside of the country.”
The propaganda campaigns used by the Burmese military during this period were shockingly similar to those employed in other genocides and racially-motivated atrocities. They were dehumanizing, and were even echoed by government officials. “So, calling names like rats, snakes—all these genocidal terms. It is okay to kill a Rohingya because they are rats, cockroaches, they’re ugly,” Sujauddin recalls. “This was the Burmese ambassador in Taiwan, I think, or Hong Kong [who said it]!” The military's propaganda falsely claimed that the Rohingya were “recent migrants” who had arrived in Myanmar “within our lifetime.” Yet, he reiterates that the Rohingya had been living on that land since long before Burma/Myanmar had even existed as a country, and points to centuries-old Rohingya cemeteries. Despite this, the propaganda campaigns effectively demonized the Rohingya in the eyes of the public, allowing the military to commit its atrocities with the support of many Burmese people. “So the entire Burmese population actually applauded the 2012 and the 2016-17 massacres,” he laments.
The pressing issue now is what can be done to protect the Rohingya in the future. The National Unity Government (NUG) has made efforts to reach out to the Rohingya, acknowledging the 2017 genocide, advocating for Myanmar not to defend itself against genocide charges at the International Court of Justice (ICJ), and stating their intent to finally sign the “Rome Statute” (which would allow the International Criminal Court ICC] to begin prosecuting the military for its genocidal acts). However, Sujauddin is skeptical. He believes these steps, while positive, are just first steps, and therefore insufficient, and frankly, he questions the NUG's sincerity if this is all they propose. Sujauddin argues that real protection requires more than symbolic gestures—it demands systemic changes that tackle decades of discrimination, citizenship denial, and widespread hostility. Without a concrete and immediate plan for reintegration and safety, Sujauddin is not convinced the NUG is fully committed to changing the status quo.
Even the most dramatic of the NUG’s proposals—agreeing to an international prosecution of the Burmese military—would play out over a very long time according to experts who have been seeking justice for the Burmese people for over a decade already. For example, Nicholas Koumjian, head of the IIMM (Independent Investigative Mechanism for Myanmar), emphasized the importance of gathering and analyzing mountains evidence to ensure accountability, in what he cautioned would be a very long-term process. And Isabel Todd of SAC-M (Special Advisory Council for Myanmar) has similarly pointed out that as vital as international legal processes like the ICC and ICJ are, they typically move quite slowly, and survivors often must wait a long while for justice. And even a future prosecution and conviction, as dramatic as that would be, would not help the Rohingya people now. Sujauddin wants to know specifically what will be done now to alleviate the terrible plight of his people.
To him, the NUG's position stands out as mainly a strategic move against the military, as opposed to a proactive, positive step on behalf of the Rohingya. Though the NUG has acknowledged past mistakes and included some Rohingya members in its initiatives, Sujauddin questions any actual influence they might have within the government.
Sujauddin also points out that many key figures in the NUG were previously members of the NLD, the ruling party during the 2016-17 genocide. The NLD has been heavily criticized for failing to protect the Rohingya, let alone to address the widespread violence and discrimination they faced. And so to him, the NUG's promises echo a familiar pattern in Burmese politics, where leaders, even including Aung San Suu Kyi, made grand statements of commitment to the Rohingya that are never fulfilled. He adds that even during the formation of the NLD, Rohingya leaders were promised equal citizenship in exchange for support, yet those promises went for naught. He fears the same pattern will just be repeated.
“What I just want you to realize is what they’re saying now is not what they're going to implement!” he exclaims. He notes that a promise to recognize the Rohingya now as a government-in-exile is very different from passing legislation in Parliament recognizing the Rohingya as legitimate citizens of Myanmar. “When there are some MPs saying, ‘No, we don't we don't recognize [the Rohingya]’ … these back-and-forth arguments will go for decades, and that will turn into centuries, and we will perish by that time.”
It may be for this reason that Sujauddin takes the very bold stance of advocating for full Rohingya independence. While many in the Myanmar sphere fear the potential “Balkanisation” or “disintegration” of the nation, Sujauddin is unconvinced that peace for the Rohingya is even remotely possible in Myanmar’s future, whether democratic or otherwise. He believes that true safety and self-determination can only be achieved through independence, a position that directly challenges the hope and possibility of national unity.
Sujauddin’s concern is based in the fact that Rakhine people form the majority in the region, and currently control all aspects of governance and authority— and as Nathan Ruser pointed out earlier this year, the Arakan Army (AA) has shown signs of violence towards Rohingya when liberating areas from the Burmese military. “The short answer is [the Rakhine] will never make a safe place for Rohingya in Arakan. And it is clear, it is written on the wall in huge, big letters in every statement they make, and every time they speak.” Indeed, even when Myanmar was under centralized military rule, Sujauddin describes how the central authority was either unwilling or unable to prevent the AA from perpetrating anti-Rohingya massacres. He seriously doubts that a more autonomous or independent Rakhine State would behave any differently. “Where is the protection? If the Burmese are not only unwilling to protect but adamant about wiping out the entire population, and the Rakhine are the same, worse in many instances, then I mean, would it be possible for Jews to live under the Nazis?! I don’t think so."
Sujauddin’s concerns are buttressed by the present Rakhine position on Rohingya citizenship: those few that are still there can have their previously revoked citizenship returned, but their ethnic identity as Rohingya will not be recognized. As he explains, that essentially means, “If you accept our rule, that means you have no political rights. But you can stay as second-class citizens in the country, and even that is only [for] those who are in the country right now.” This conditional and exclusionary approach underscores the deep-rooted discrimination, where the Rohingya are offered a form of citizenship without true recognition or equal rights, leaving them politically marginalized and disenfranchised.
Sujauddin is also skeptical about the possibility of an autonomous Rohingya state in a post-military Myanmar. Although he, himself, proposed such a solution in 2022, he now points out a significant flaw: autonomy granted by a central authority can just as easily be taken away, especially if the Rohingya lack the means to defend themselves or to lobby the international community for support. He argues that any domestic compromise would never be truly stable. And while he acknowledges that sovereign states can still be invaded, there is no legal mechanism for that to happen; on the other hand, owing its existence to a central authority contains the seeds of that legitimacy possibly being taken away. Sovereignty, in his view, would afford a Rohingya state more safeguards than autonomy within a federated Myanmar.
The topic of Rohingya independence is, of course, politically volatile. It is unlikely that the Rakhine would willingly relinquish land they view as their own to the Rohingya, a people they have regarded as mortal enemies for centuries. Nevertheless, Sujauddin believes that this is the only way to ensure the long-term safety and protection of his people.
Sujauddin also emphasizes that both Rohingya and Rakhine civilians are victims of continued outbreaks of violence. “They will never have peace either,” he explains sadly. In his view, allowing the Rohingya to govern their own area could even be beneficial for the Rakhine. “I think this is even good for the Rakhine,” Sujauddin adds. However, Sujauddin is clear that his vision is not the creation of ethno-states. “I’m not proposing that we have to have an entirely purely Rohingya [state],” he explains. “What I'm proposing is there should be an area where the Rohingya are safe, and then there can be Rakhine living together as well. And probably there will be some parts of [Rakhine] where there will be Rohingyas too, and there'll be some parts of the Rohingya area where there will be Rakhines living together.” His vision is for a Rohingya state where displaced people can return, rebuild, and live securely, with the focus on ensuring freedom and safety for all its citizens, rather than promoting ethnically exclusionary practices. A Rohingya state, according to Sujauddin, would prioritize coexistence and inclusivity, offering refuge for Rohingya while allowing diverse communities to live together in peace.
At present, the political will for genuine systemic change remains low. While the Rohingya are in the international spotlight, and groups like the NUG and even the AA are making gestures of peace and reconciliation, there is little tangible evidence to suggest that these overtures have real substance. Many of the Rohingyas’ needs and concerns are brushed aside as secondary to the immediate goal of winning the revolution. However, this attitude, as many minority groups have pointed out, risks sidelining real change for decades. Social issues, like the rights of the Rohingya, may be deemed less urgent compared to the most pressing issues of the day, or too politically challenging to address if the momentum for change subsides. This pattern could see the Rohingya’s struggle for recognition and equality once again delayed, even in a post-revolution Myanmar.
“This is the right moment to side with the Rohingya people, because these people have been left neglected for centuries. It's well overdue time for them to have a place where they can they can live safely and call home. And that is of course Rakhine, where they are relocated from!”