The Rohingya in South Asia

People Without a State

Sabyasachi Basu Ray Chaudhury, Ranabir Samaddar

• Publisher: Routledge India
• Year: 2018
• eBook ISBN: 9780429885334
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Politique et relations internationales
• Subtopic: Histoire de l'Inde et de l'Asie du Sud

The Rohingya of Myanmar are one of the world's most persecuted minority populations without citizenship. After the latest exodus from Myanmar in 2017, there are now more than half a million Rohingya in Bangladesh living in camps, often in conditions of abject poverty, malnutrition and without proper access to shelter or work permits. Some of them are now compelled to take to the seas in perilous journeys to the Southeast Asian countries in search of a better life. They are now asked to go back to Myanmar, but without any promise of citizenship or an end to discrimination.

This book looks at the Rohingya in the South Asian region, primarily India and Bangladesh. It explores the broader picture of the historical and political dimensions of the Rohingya crisis, and examines subjects of statelessness, human rights and humanitarian protection of these victims of forced migration. Further, it chronicles the actual process of emergence of a stateless community – the transformation of a national group into a stateless existence without basic rights.

1
Stateless, Floating People

The Rohingya at sea

Sucharita Sengupta

Here in this deep and boundless waste where shore is none to meet the eye/Thy utmost strivings are in vain; – here in mid-ocean thou must die.¹

Deaths have been more rampant and normal than survival among migrants who have crossed raging high seas amidst dire uncertainties. The chapter epigraph is from a fable based on the Bay of Bengal, denoting how furious is the kalapani, that is the water of the bay. Most would not dare to cross it, but one who does cross it is bold enough, as goes the myth. The old Buddhist jataka stories tell us how in one of his previous births in the fourth century, Prince Polajanaka had attempted to cross the sea to reach ‘Suvarnabhumi – the land of gold’ in order to fight to win back the throne of his father from his brother. The book sketching this story is beautifully written by Sunil S. Amrith. It captures the Bay of Bengal through many such stories – in both its tranquillity and fury. In fact, not only on the bay, but also deaths in the seas have been as consistent as the voyages itself. Exploring the interconnectivity of the South Asia and the Southeast Asia, the bay was once ‘at the heart of global history’. With formation of nation states and rigid land boundaries, the strategic importance of the bay lessened a bit in the twentieth century only to regain its lost glory in the twenty-first century. It now remains as the epitome of the ‘largest movements of people in modern history’. Migration has remained consistent despite high risk. Although crossings had reduced in the mid-twentieth century, mobility of the sea marked by large-scale migration continued and reached its zenith in the twenty-first century. In this age, once again the bay has attained paramount importance in international politics. Politically, culturally and in trade and commerce the sea plays a crucial role in boosting interconnectivity and mobility in Asia, binding South and Southeast Asia into an integrated whole. The entire region has grown economically, promoting the economy of states like Malaysia and Thailand, resulting in a massive flow of labour and capital. Illegal migration has also increased simultaneously in precarious conditions. This chapter explores one such context when the sea holds promise of a sacrosanct destination just across it, almost similar to the ‘land of gold’ that the prince in Amrith’s book is tempted to reach even if it means death.² Is then the illusion so extreme that migrants, despite risks, often willingly undertake these journeys? In other words, what is it in the sea that allures, and why is journey in boats most dreaded yet acceptable, are two of the questions this piece is plagued with and inquires about.

Instances

News report one: ‘“Why Do We Have to Do This Death Trip?” Migrant Crisis Continues as Boat Capsizes Off Libya’ reads one headline. The news is published in the New Statesman on 5 August 2015.³ It says: ‘As rescuers search the Mediterranean for hundreds of migrants after a boat capsized off the Libyan, Syrian refugees in the most popular Greek arrival point tell us death is unavoidable without any safe routes.’

News report two: ‘Migrant Deaths in the Mediterranean Continue as 40 Bodies Found in Hull of Smugglers’ Boat’. The news, published on 7 September 2015 in The Independent, talks of the deaths of 40 migrants in the Mediterranean due to suffocation on board. ‘The Italian navy announced the deaths this afternoon as the rescue operation continued for around 300 other passengers off the coast of Libya.’⁴

News report three: From New Internationalist magazine, people, ideas and action for Global Justice publishes news on how search and rescue operations (SAR) have led to causing more death in the high seas, especially the Mediterranean. In 2014, the report says, approximately 3,000 migrants have died in the Mediterranean and in 2015, 1,700 deaths have been reported. On 19 April 2015, 700 deaths were reported after a boat capsized on the sea. Italy had initiated Operation Triton in order to SAR the migrants in the boats.⁵

These three news reports are among hundreds of such reports daily coming out in the media on migrant deaths in the high seas, validating the introductory lines from the fable. The present chapter would also discuss a particular context and migration across the Bay of Bengal, although in this case mobility has hardly led to forging a connection between the recipient countries and the community seeking asylum – the Rohingya.

The prelude

Since the Indian subcontinent was partitioned in 1947, it has witnessed continuous transborder and internal migration caused by ethnic violence, economic compulsions and other factors. The borders dividing India, Bangladesh and Myanmar in the post-colonial period, for instance, are porous, defying their governments to control population flows. Illegal migration has inevitably increased.

This chapter attempts to trace the seaborne migration of the Rohingya of Myanmar, the uncertain conditions they exist in and the precariousness of their destinies and destinations. A Muslim minority ethnic group from the Arakan province of Myanmar, the Rohingya have been in such a state of flux that they have been in no position to negotiate with a particular nation state to secure a home for themselves. Having been denied citizenship in Myanmar, they constitute one of the world’s largest deracinated communities in existence. Their identity is, however, difficult to pin down and, in context, it is difficult to categorise the community as stateless, refugee or asylum-seeker. Following massive persecution in Myanmar, the Rohingya have been forced from the 1970s to flee to neighbouring countries like Bangladesh, separated from the Arakan only by the Naf River, to seek asylum. Since then, they have been living for a protracted period as refugees, mostly in the Cox’s Bazar area of Bangladesh’s Chittagong Hill Tracts in two camps, whose residents are not allowed to interact with the local population. They are supported by the Government of Bangladesh and the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), along with other organizations. After a new government came to power in Bangladesh in January 2009, followed by fresh violence in Myanmar in 2012, it has adopted strict measures to stop the inflow.

An attempt has been made here to trace the Rohingya journey not from Myanmar itself, but from Bangladesh to Southeast Asian countries across the Bay of Bengal and Strait of Malacca and investigate the circumstances that prompt the ‘Bangladeshi Rohingya’ to flee overland to India and across the seas to Thailand and Malaysia. Several questions crop up: Do they remain asylum-seekers or become economic migrants? What is it that compels them to take to the sea on perilous journeys, usually in fishing trawlers, to cross to Malaysia, and why is the role of Bangladesh crucial? What are the conditions that reduce the Rohingya to being a community of ‘boatpeople’, compelled to risk their lives in their search for settlement and livelihood? The transformation of the Rohingya into a boat people will be the main focus of this chapter. Mapping this maritime and terrestrial journey through various legal regimes, this piece argues that the outcomes faced by the community have been historically inevitable.

My fieldwork in Bangladesh shows that it is generally members of the second and third generations of Rohingya, between the ages of 18 and 21, who are trying to leave Bangladesh mainly for Southeast Asia.⁶ In this chapter I examine why this is so, for which understanding the history of the region, especially Bangladesh, is important. Already settled in the two refugee camps or in makeshift settlements in Cox’s Bazar, these young men and women are taking to the sea to seek jobs in the Southeast Asia countries. Despite the risks, greater access to sea routes, in comparison to those across land, makes migrating, or often being trafficked, to Southeast Asia and Australia easier, even though they end up all too often in border-detention camps where they either die or become bonded labourers. The ‘pull’ factors which draw them into the smuggling-trafficking nexus, involving many regional and international actors, will be analysed. The three primary themes that will be discussed are: the evolution of Rohingya as boat people; the legal regimes to protect them; and their lives in camps in Bangladesh and the reasons for which they want to leave that country.

There are two broad sections in the chapter: one deals with the overall history of the region, of crossing the sea, the coinage of the term ‘boat people’ and the subsequent mixed flow of Rohingya and Bangladeshis over the seas; the other deals with the lives of Rohingya in the camps and explores the reasons behind Bangladesh producing the largest number of migrants in the world. The first section is based mainly on news chapters housed in Bangladeshi archives and online media resources. The second section is based on primary material and interviews with residents of the camps in the Teknaf area of Noyapara and the Kutupalong area of Ukhiya in Cox’s Bazar and also people living in makeshift settlements, where unregistered Rohingya have been living without any formal acknowledgement or permission from the government. Because we did not have formal access to the camps, we mainly interviewed both registered and unregistered Rohingya in the makeshift camps, commonly known as leda. These settlements are scattered just outside the formal camp areas. We talked to approximately forty people about their lives in Bangladesh and why members of their families or people from the neighbourhood have been leaving for other destinations. Some of these narratives also describe their sea voyages. Information was also gathered from officials of various non-governmental organizations (NGO) and human rights organizations of Bangladesh.

The context

Since May 2015, the international and Bangladesh media have been abuzz with news reports and video clips of boats full of migrants from Bangladesh and Myanmar that were adrift. Countries in Southeast Asia were expected to help rescue the migrants and provide asylum. What was unveiled, however, was a petrifying picture of death, a smuggling-trafficking nexus and torture on the high seas and border-detention camps. It was after thirty-two shallow graves were discovered on a remote and rugged mountain in the border district of Sadao in Songkhla, Thailand, in 2015 that the enormity of the problem was exposed by media activism.⁷ The migrants were a mix of Rohingya and Bangladeshis. Bangladesh was first in a state of denial, then shocked over claims that the boats were carrying Bangladeshi nationals. They finally came up with the response that the Bangladeshi nationals had been kidnapped whereas the Rohingya had willingly embarked on these precarious journeys. Dainik Janakantha, a local Bengali daily published from Bangladesh, reported on 8 May 2015 that many Bangladeshis had gone missing from the regions of Cox’s Bazar, Pekua, Maheshkhali, Ramu and Shatkania, Lohagara and Bandarban of Chittagong.⁸ Most of these men had been victims of trafficking. They had been lured with the promise of prosperity in Malaysia, but before they could reach there, they were kidnapped and imprisoned in Thai border-detention camps. Investigations indicated that 200,000 Bangladeshis and Rohingya had attempted to cross the sea in order to reach Malaysia. Most of them had been forced to do so. According to another report on 14 May 2015, the UNHCR has claimed that around 87,000 people have been trafficked across the Bay of Bengal since 2013–14.⁹ Several syndicates operate in these four countries targeting poor Bangladeshis for ransom. The Rohingya, however, migrate because the UNHCR issues Rohingya refugee cards in Malaysia and they are not arrested there. This, coupled with the image of Malaysia being a dream destination, increasingly prompts Rohingya to migrate there.

A senior Daily Star reporter, S. Ashraf, visited the Thai border and interviewed migrants there.¹⁰ He was also present at a meeting of states concerned in Bangkok on 29 May 2015.¹¹ Ashraf stressed the fact that Bangladeshis found in boats crossing the sea had been kidnapped, so their reasons to be in the boats clearly were different from those of the Rohingya found on board. There are two ways of illegally trafficking Bangladeshis. Either they are kidnapped or children below 18 are promised tours of Malaysia and then imprisoned in detention camps. He talked of a particular case in which a group of young boys, who had never seen the sea before and hailed from a very poor region of Bangladesh, was tempted to cross the sea. Once the boys boarded the ship, they were kept hungry and finally locked in a room at one of the transit points. So while Bangladeshis were being trafficked, Rohingya genuinely wanted to leave Bangladesh for better opportunities, usually work in rubber plantations. Women were hardly ever found on these boats, and the few found were always Rohingya. Ashraf claimed no Bangladeshi woman has yet been found to have taken to the sea.

The New York Times had reported that 6,000 to 20,000 people had been found in ‘rickety flotillas’ in the Andaman Sea and the Strait of Malacca.¹² After the graves were discovered in Thailand, the Thai government took strict measures to crack down on the traffickers.¹³ Initially, after the Rohingya and Bangladeshis were abandoned at sea by traffickers, Malaysia had turned away two boats with more than 800 persons on board, and Thailand had also ‘kept at bay a third boat with hundreds more’.¹⁴ A Malaysian deputy minister had stated that ...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• CONTENTS
• List of illustrations
• Notes on contributors
• Acknowledgements
• Introduction
• 1 Stateless, floating people: the Rohingya at sea
• 2 Where do #ibelong? The stateless Rohingya in India
• 3 The stateless people: Rohingya in Hyderabad
• 4 The jailed Rohingya in West Bengal
• 5 Rohingya in Bangladesh and India and the media planet
• 6 Legal brief on statelessness: law in the Indian context
• 7 Reducing statelessness: a new call for India
• Epilogue: the regional dimensions
• Afterword
• References
• Index