Myanmar’s empty promise on Rohingya repatriation

The Myanmar government last week announced that 180,000 Rohingya refugees, currently languishing in camps in Bangladesh, are “eligible” to return to their homeland.

This news might sound like a breakthrough in one of the world’s most protracted humanitarian crises. After all, the Rohingya — a Muslim minority group — were subjected to a brutal military campaign in 2017 that the UN has called a “textbook example of ethnic cleansing.” More than 700,000 fled to Bangladesh, joining others displaced by earlier waves of violence, leaving behind burned villages and shattered lives. A repatriation deal, even a partial one, could signal hope.

But scratch beneath the surface and it is clear this is little more than a hollow gesture — a public relations stunt by a regime desperate to shore up its crumbling legitimacy.

Myanmar’s track record on the Rohingya issue is a litany of broken promises. In 2017, after international outcry over the genocide, the government signed an agreement with Bangladesh to facilitate the return of displaced Rohingya. Yet, years later, fewer than 1,000 have been repatriated and even those efforts were marred by absurdity. The Myanmar authorities proposed housing returnees in what amounted to internment camps — fenced-off zones surrounded by barbed wire, with no freedom of movement, no access to livelihoods and no path to rebuilding their lives. This was no homecoming, it was a prison sentence. The Rohingya, understandably, refused. Why would they return to a country that has systematically stripped them of their rights, torched their homes and subjected them to unspeakable violence?

The obstacles to repatriation are not mere logistical hiccups — they are deliberate. Take the 1982 Citizenship Law, which is a cornerstone of the Rohingya’s oppression. This legislation effectively rendered them stateless by excluding them from the list of recognized ethnic groups, despite their centuries-long presence in Rakhine State. Without citizenship, the Rohingya cannot own land, access education or move freely. The Myanmar government has shown no willingness to repeal or amend this law, meaning that even if 180,000 Rohingya were to return, they would remain noncitizens in their own country, vulnerable to the same persecution that drove them out. The announcement of eligibility is meaningless without addressing this fundamental injustice.

Then there is the physical reality: there is nowhere for the Rohingya to go. During the 2017 crackdown, Myanmar’s military razed entire villages, leaving behind ash and rubble. Satellite imagery documented the systematic destruction and subsequent reports have revealed that many of these sites were repurposed for military bases or resettled by other ethnic groups. The Rohingya’s ancestral lands are gone and the government has made no serious effort to rebuild or restitute property. Instead, it has floated plans for “temporary” camps — a euphemism for the same detention centers rejected in earlier repatriation schemes. For the Rohingya, returning under these conditions is not a homecoming, it is a trap.

This is little more than a hollow gesture — a public relations stunt by a regime desperate to shore up its crumbling legitimacy

Dr. Azeem Ibrahim

The timing of this announcement is telling. Myanmar’s junta, which seized power in a 2021 coup, is losing ground — literally and figuratively. The Arakan Army, an ethnic Rakhine insurgent group, has made significant advances in Rakhine State, the very region from which the Rohingya were expelled. The military government is also grappling with a broader civil war, economic collapse and international isolation. Desperate for aid and legitimacy, it is turning to its neighbors in the Association of Southeast Asian Nations. This latest pledge to take back 180,000 Rohingya is less about humanitarianism and more about buying goodwill from a bloc that has grown increasingly frustrated with Myanmar’s instability.

The ASEAN angle becomes even clearer when you consider the shifting regional dynamics. In January, Malaysia assumed the chairmanship of ASEAN and its prime minister, Anwar Ibrahim, is a vocal advocate for the Rohingya. Anwar has repeatedly called for accountability and relief for the displaced, putting pressure on Myanmar to act — or at least appear to act. By dangling the prospect of repatriation, the junta hopes to placate Malaysia and other ASEAN members, deflecting criticism and securing diplomatic breathing room. It is a cynical ploy, one that Bangladesh, which hosts nearly a million Rohingya refugees, is unlikely to fall for again.

Bangladesh, for its part, has expressed skepticism. Foreign Ministry officials have noted that Myanmar’s promises have repeatedly failed to materialize and the conditions for a safe, voluntary return remain absent. The Rohingya themselves, packed into sprawling camps in Cox’s Bazar, share this distrust. They have seen this script before: grand announcements followed by bureaucratic delays, impossible demands (like requiring documentation they do not have as stateless people) and, ultimately, inaction. Without guarantees of safety, citizenship and a genuine home to return to, the Rohingya have no reason to board the buses Myanmar claims it will send.

This is not a repatriation plan — it is a performance. The junta wants the world to see it as a responsible actor, cooperating with Bangladesh to resolve a crisis it created. But the reality is stark: Myanmar has no intention of welcoming the Rohingya back as equal citizens. The 180,000 deemed “eligible” are just numbers on a page, a statistic to wave at ASEAN summits and UN meetings. Meanwhile, the Rohingya remain trapped — stateless in Bangladesh, unwanted in Myanmar and forgotten by much of the world.

The international community must see through this charade. Pressure should be ramped up on Myanmar to dismantle the legal and structural barriers that keep the Rohingya in limbo, starting with the 1982 Citizenship Law. ASEAN, under Malaysia’s leadership, has a chance to push for real accountability, not just platitudes. And Bangladesh, buckling under the weight of hosting a million refugees, deserves more than empty promises — it needs concrete support to manage the crisis Myanmar refuses to solve.

For the Rohingya, the announcement of April 4, 2025, changes nothing. It is another chapter in a decades-long saga of displacement and despair. Until Myanmar confronts its own atrocities and offers a genuine path to justice, the 180,000 “eligible” Rohingya will stay where they are, because returning to a genocide in progress is no return at all.

*Dr. Azeem Ibrahim is the director of special initiatives at the Newlines Institute for Strategy and Policy in Washington, DC. X: @AzeemIbrahim