Myanmar, formerly known as Burma, has a complex and often troubled history. For decades, the international media portrayed a simplistic narrative of virtuous Buddhist civilians oppressed by a brutal military dictatorship. When the country began transitioning to democracy in 2011, it seemed like a triumph of justice. However, a new wave of violence soon emerged - this time with Buddhists as the aggressors targeting the Muslim Rohingya minority.
In "Myanmar's Enemy Within," journalist Francis Wade explores the roots of this conflict and why Myanmar's nascent democracy has struggled to resolve it. Through extensive on-the-ground reporting and historical analysis, Wade uncovers the deep-seated ethnic and religious tensions that have shaped Myanmar's past and continue to influence its present.
Introduction: A Country in Transition
For much of its modern history, Myanmar was ruled by an oppressive military junta that isolated the country from the outside world. In 2011, the military began loosening its grip on power, allowing for democratic reforms and greater openness. This transition was widely hailed internationally as a positive development that would usher in a new era of freedom and prosperity for Myanmar's people.
However, the reality proved far more complicated. As the country opened up, long-simmering ethnic and religious tensions bubbled to the surface. Most alarmingly, violence erupted against the Rohingya, a Muslim minority group in western Myanmar's Rakhine State. Buddhist mobs attacked Rohingya communities, burning homes and forcing hundreds of thousands to flee to squalid refugee camps.
This turn of events shocked many observers. How could Myanmar's Buddhist majority, long seen as peaceful victims of military oppression, become the perpetrators of such brutality? And why were the country's pro-democracy leaders, including Nobel Peace Prize winner Aung San Suu Kyi, largely silent in the face of this violence?
Wade's book seeks to answer these questions by delving into Myanmar's complex history of ethnic conflict, colonial legacy, and nationalist ideology. He argues that understanding this background is crucial for grasping the current crisis and the challenges facing Myanmar's fragile democracy.
The Outbreak of Violence in Rakhine State
The western region of Rakhine State, bordering Bangladesh, became the epicenter of anti-Muslim violence in 2012. For many years, Buddhist and Muslim communities in the state capital of Sittwe had coexisted relatively peacefully, living in mixed neighborhoods and intermarrying.
However, tensions began to rise as rumors spread of Muslims attacking Buddhists. In June 2012, busloads of armed Buddhist vigilantes arrived in Sittwe and began burning down Muslim homes in the Nasi neighborhood, forcing residents to flee to displacement camps. This marked the beginning of a wave of attacks on Rohingya and other Muslim communities across Rakhine State.
The targets of this violence were primarily the Rohingya, a Muslim ethnic minority who have lived in the region for generations. However, many Rakhine Buddhists view the Rohingya as illegal immigrants from Bangladesh who threaten to take over their land and erode their culture. They see the border with Bangladesh as the "Western Gate" - the frontier between the Buddhist world and the encroaching Muslim world.
Wade argues that the outbreak of violence coincided with Myanmar's transition away from military rule. As the country moved toward democracy, many Rakhine Buddhists feared that minority groups like the Rohingya would begin asserting their rights and demanding greater political representation. This anxiety helped fuel the attacks.
The Spread of Anti-Muslim Sentiment
The violence in Rakhine State did not occur in a vacuum. In the years leading up to 2012, Buddhist nationalists had been cultivating a narrative that portrayed Muslims, especially the Rohingya, as an existential threat to Myanmar's Buddhist identity and culture.
In 2011, as censorship was relaxed, Buddhist intellectuals and political leaders began openly promoting anti-Muslim ideas. They argued that the term "Rohingya" was a fabrication designed to give Muslim "outsiders" a false claim to Myanmar citizenship. Influential Buddhist journals portrayed the Rohingya as terrorists and an existential threat to the nation.
Social media played a significant role in spreading these ideas. Users circulated images connecting the Rohingya to global terrorist attacks and the destruction of Buddhist sites, implying that Myanmar's Muslims were part of a broader war against Buddhism. This rhetoric was used to justify harsh measures against the Rohingya.
The violence that began in Rakhine State soon spread to other parts of Myanmar. Buddhist monks called for boycotts of Muslim businesses. Attacks on mosques and Muslim neighborhoods occurred in cities far from Rakhine. Even long-established Muslim communities with no connection to the Rohingya, such as the Kaman Muslims, became targets.
Government forces were often complicit in this violence, either by directly participating or by standing by as Buddhist mobs attacked Muslims. This fueled fears among Muslim communities and led many to flee to refugee camps for safety.
The Colonial Roots of Ethnic Tension
To understand the current conflict, Wade argues that we must look back to Myanmar's colonial history under British rule. While Muslims have been present in the region for over a thousand years, large-scale Muslim immigration occurred during the British colonial period.
When Britain annexed Burma (as Myanmar was then known) in 1885, it integrated the country into its broader Indian empire. To develop the colony's infrastructure and economy, the British encouraged mass immigration from India. This dramatically changed Burma's demographics, especially in urban areas. By 1931, the colonial capital of Yangon had more Indian residents than ethnic Burmese.
This influx of immigrants, many of whom were Muslim, created resentment among the local Buddhist population. Burmese nationalists who emerged in the 1920s and 1930s targeted both the British authorities and Indian immigrants in their struggle for independence. While Hindu immigrants were somewhat tolerated, Muslims were seen as a particular threat due to fears about intermarriage and religious conversion.
The goal of expelling the British became closely linked with removing Muslim immigrants in the nationalist imagination. Over time, this antipathy expanded to include even long-established Muslim populations like the Rohingya.
Wade argues that British colonial policies laid the groundwork for future ethnic conflicts by rigidly categorizing the population into distinct racial groups. This approach ignored the fluid nature of ethnic identity in pre-colonial Burma and created more fixed boundaries between communities.
The Military Dictatorship's Pursuit of National Unity
After gaining independence in 1948, Burma (as it was still known) experienced political instability. In 1962, the military seized power, ostensibly to restore order. However, the generals refused to relinquish control, ushering in decades of authoritarian rule.
The military regime's primary ideology centered on national security and unity. They portrayed themselves as the guardians of the nation, protecting it from both internal and external threats that could tear the country apart. A common slogan was "One voice, one blood, one nation."
To justify their rule, the military created a narrative that portrayed pre-colonial Burma as a harmonious, unified Buddhist kingdom. According to this view, British colonialism had undermined national unity by introducing alien elements, particularly Muslims, who refused to assimilate into the dominant culture.
While this account greatly simplified Burma's complex history, it served to legitimize the military's harsh policies aimed at enforcing national unity. The regime saw its highest duty as protecting the nation's integrity, even if that meant using force against ethnic and religious minorities.
This ideology led to increasingly narrow definitions of citizenship and belonging. The military became suspicious of Burma's history of fluid ethnic identities, preferring instead a rigid categorization system similar to what the British had used. This approach would have profound consequences for groups like the Rohingya.
The Exclusion of the Rohingya
In 1982, the military regime issued a new Citizenship Law that fundamentally redefined who belonged to the nation. The law recognized 135 official "national races" that were considered indigenous to Burma. To be a full citizen, one had to belong to one of these recognized groups.
The criteria for inclusion was ostensibly based on whether a group could prove its presence in the country before 1824, when the British began their conquest. However, the Rohingya were excluded from the list of national races despite historical evidence of their long-standing presence in the region.
This exclusion had severe consequences. In 1989, Rohingya were forced to turn in their old identity documents and told to wait for new ones. Many, especially those who continued to advocate for Rohingya rights, never received new government IDs. This effectively rendered them stateless in their own country.
The treatment of the Rohingya echoed the regime's earlier actions against Indian and Chinese communities in the 1960s. Then, hundreds of thousands of people of Indian and Chinese descent were forced out of the country, with their properties confiscated. The regime portrayed these groups as having no natural connection to Burma and as potential "internal enemies."
By excluding the Rohingya from official recognition, the military government set the stage for their further marginalization and persecution in the coming decades.
Demographic Engineering in Rakhine State
In the 1990s, the military regime became increasingly concerned about the demographics of Rakhine State. Despite stripping the Rohingya of legal rights, they feared the region was being "lost" to a growing Muslim population.
To counter this perceived threat, the government implemented a "rescue plan" with two main components. First, they placed ethnic Bamar (the country's largest ethnic group) officials in top positions in Rakhine State, backed by loyal military units. This move tapped into resentment among some Rakhine Buddhists about earlier periods when Muslims had held administrative positions in the region.
The second part of the plan involved resettling Buddhists from other parts of Myanmar in Rakhine State. In a striking example, the government offered early release to Buddhist prisoners if they agreed to relocate to northern Rakhine. These resettled Buddhists were given houses, monthly stipends, food rations, and farmland - an extraordinarily generous package in Myanmar's context.
This resettlement program was based on the idea, promoted by nationalist officials, that the Rohingya identity was a conspiracy to allow outsiders (primarily Bengalis) to claim rights in Myanmar. By increasing the Buddhist population in Rakhine, the regime hoped to strengthen what it saw as the cultural glue holding the nation together.
These policies of demographic engineering further heightened tensions between Buddhist and Muslim communities in Rakhine State, setting the stage for future conflicts.
The Pro-Democracy Movement's Dilemma
As violence against the Rohingya escalated in 2012 and beyond, many international observers were shocked by the reaction - or lack thereof - from Myanmar's pro-democracy movement. This movement, which had long opposed the military regime and advocated for human rights, showed little sympathy for the plight of the Rohingya.
Even revered democracy activists who had spent years in prison for opposing the dictatorship echoed nationalist rhetoric about the Rohingya. Ko Ko Gyi, a prominent dissident, stated that the Rohingya were "absolutely not an ethnic race of Burma" and that recognizing them would infringe on Myanmar's sovereignty.
Aung San Suu Kyi, the Nobel Peace Prize-winning leader of the democracy movement, refused to condemn the anti-Muslim violence directly. Instead, she claimed that "both sides" were at fault, despite the clearly disproportionate suffering of the Rohingya.
Wade argues that this stance reflects a fundamental dilemma facing the pro-democracy movement. Having finally achieved a transition to more open elections, the movement finds itself caught between competing pressures:
- If they oppose Buddhist nationalist movements, they risk being labeled as "pro-Muslim" and losing popular support.
- If they remain silent on the persecution of the Rohingya, they undermine their credibility as champions of human rights and democracy.
This dilemma reveals that many in the pro-democracy movement share some of the same nationalist assumptions as the military regime they long opposed. They see democracy as primarily about securing rights for those they consider legitimate citizens of Myanmar - a category that often excludes the Rohingya.
The movement's reluctance to embrace the cause of the Rohingya also reflects pragmatic political calculations. In a country where anti-Muslim sentiment is widespread, advocating for Rohingya rights could be politically costly.
This situation highlights the complex challenges facing Myanmar's nascent democracy. The country must grapple not only with the legacy of military rule but also with deeply ingrained notions of national identity that exclude certain minority groups.
The Role of Buddhism in Myanmar's National Identity
Throughout Myanmar's modern history, Buddhism has played a central role in conceptions of national identity. The military regime promoted the idea of Buddhism as the glue holding the nation together, and this notion remains powerful even in the post-dictatorship era.
Many Burmese Buddhists see their faith as integral to what it means to be truly Myanmar. This view often leads to suspicion or outright hostility toward non-Buddhist minorities, especially Muslims. The fear of "Islamization" is widespread, with many believing that the very existence of their culture and way of life is under threat.
Buddhist monks have often been at the forefront of promoting these ideas. Some prominent monks have called for boycotts of Muslim businesses and portrayed Islam as incompatible with Myanmar's national character. These religious leaders carry significant moral authority in Myanmar society, making their words particularly influential.
The centrality of Buddhism to conceptions of national identity creates challenges for building a truly inclusive democracy in Myanmar. It raises difficult questions about the place of religious minorities in the nation and whether full citizenship and equal rights can be extended to all regardless of faith.
The Legacy of Fluid Identities
One of the ironies of Myanmar's current ethnic conflicts is that they exist against a historical backdrop of much more fluid identities. Wade highlights how, for much of Myanmar's pre-colonial history, ethnic and religious identities were not fixed categories determining one's political loyalties or social status.
There are numerous examples of people moving between ethnic categories or of armies composed of multiple ethnic groups fighting under the banner of a single kingdom. The notion that one's ethnicity was an immutable characteristic defining one's place in society is largely a modern invention, influenced heavily by British colonial practices.
The military regime, and to some extent the current government, have been deeply suspicious of this history of fluid identities. They prefer clearly defined and policed ethnic categories, seeing this as necessary for national security and unity.
This shift away from fluid identities has had profound consequences. It has made it much harder for groups like the Rohingya to be accepted as part of the national community, even if their ancestors have lived in the region for generations. It has also contributed to a mindset where ethnic differences are seen as fundamental dividing lines in society rather than as part of a rich cultural tapestry.
Understanding this history of fluid identities is crucial for imagining a more inclusive future for Myanmar. It suggests that the current rigid ethnic categories are not inevitable or "natural," but rather the product of specific historical and political choices.
The International Response and Myanmar's Sovereignty
The persecution of the Rohingya has drawn significant international attention and condemnation. However, many in Myanmar, including pro-democracy activists, have bristled at what they see as foreign interference in their country's internal affairs.
There is a widespread belief in Myanmar that international pressure on the Rohingya issue infringes on national sovereignty. This view is partly rooted in the country's history of colonialism and subsequent isolation under military rule, which fostered a strong sense of needing to protect Myanmar's independence from outside influence.
This sensitivity to perceived foreign meddling creates challenges for international organizations and governments seeking to address the Rohingya crisis. Heavy-handed criticism or intervention risks backfiring, potentially hardening nationalist sentiments and making it politically difficult for Myanmar's leaders to take a more conciliatory approach.
At the same time, the scale of human rights abuses against the Rohingya has made it impossible for the international community to remain silent. Balancing the need to address these abuses with respect for Myanmar's sovereignty remains an ongoing challenge.
The Challenges Ahead for Myanmar's Democracy
As Myanmar continues its transition to democracy, it faces numerous challenges related to its treatment of ethnic and religious minorities, particularly the Rohingya. These challenges include:
Addressing the legacy of decades of military rule and nationalist ideology that portrayed minorities as threats to national unity.
Reforming citizenship laws to be more inclusive and in line with international human rights standards.
Promoting reconciliation between Buddhist and Muslim communities, especially in conflict-affected areas like Rakhine State.
Balancing the demands of the Buddhist majority with the rights of minority groups.
Dealing with the humanitarian crisis of hundreds of thousands of Rohingya refugees in neighboring countries.
Resisting the temptation to use ethnic or religious nationalism as a tool for political mobilization.
Educating the public about Myanmar's diverse ethnic history and promoting a more inclusive national identity.
Reforming institutions, including the military and police, to better protect the rights of all citizens regardless of ethnicity or religion.
Addressing these challenges will require sustained effort and political will from Myanmar's leaders, as well as support and patience from the international community.
Conclusion: The Path Forward
Francis Wade's "Myanmar's Enemy Within" provides a nuanced and historically grounded explanation for the current crisis facing the Rohingya and other minorities in Myanmar. By tracing the roots of conflict back through the country's colonial history and decades of military rule, Wade helps readers understand the complex factors that have shaped Myanmar's treatment of ethnic and religious minorities.
The book makes clear that there are no easy solutions to Myanmar's ethnic tensions. Decades of nationalist ideology, rigid ethnic categorization, and mutual distrust cannot be undone overnight. However, understanding the historical context of these conflicts is a crucial first step toward addressing them.
Wade's analysis suggests several key points for those hoping to promote peace and inclusivity in Myanmar:
The importance of challenging simplistic narratives about Myanmar's history and ethnic makeup. The country's past is far more complex and fluid than nationalist ideologies suggest.
The need to address the underlying fears and insecurities that drive anti-Muslim sentiment, rather than simply condemning it.
The crucial role that reforming citizenship laws and bureaucratic categorizations could play in creating a more inclusive national identity.
The potential for drawing on Myanmar's pre-colonial history of relatively fluid ethnic identities as a resource for imagining a more inclusive future.
The need for Myanmar's pro-democracy movement to grapple more directly with issues of ethnic inclusion and minority rights.
The importance of international engagement that is sensitive to Myanmar's concerns about sovereignty while still advocating for human rights.
Ultimately, Wade's book is a call for a more nuanced understanding of Myanmar's challenges. It suggests that building a truly democratic and inclusive Myanmar will require not just political reforms, but a fundamental rethinking of national identity and belonging.
The path forward for Myanmar is undoubtedly difficult, but not impossible. By confronting its complex history and the legacy of decades of military rule and ethnic conflict, the country has the potential to build a more inclusive and peaceful future. However, this will require courage, compassion, and a willingness to challenge long-held beliefs from all of Myanmar's people and leaders.
As Myanmar continues its democratic transition, the treatment of the Rohingya and other minorities will be a crucial test of the country's commitment to human rights and equality. The choices made in the coming years will have profound implications not just for the Rohingya, but for the future of Myanmar's democracy and its place in the international community.