Does History Only Repeat Itself? Remembering the Rohingya in Light of Palestine | Blog

A mere seven years ago, the world bore witness to the unfolding tragedy of the Rohingya genocide, an atrocity still smoldering in the shadows. Men, women, and children—targeted solely for their ethnic identity as the Muslim minority in Myanmar (also known as Burma)—faced systematic murder. This horror did not spring from nothing; it was the culmination of years of calculated policies and insidious practices that dehumanized the Rohingya, weaving a vile tapestry of falsehoods to justify their eradication.

Before 2017, many Rohingya found themselves confined to internal camps along the Sittwe Coast of Myanmar, a grim attempt to segregate and isolate them from the broader tapestry of Burmese society. Through this cruel process, they were stripped of access to health care, mobility, education, and the very means to earn their daily bread. This orchestrated marginalization sought to deny them the basic dignities and opportunities that form the essence of a just and humane existence.

From as early as the 1960s, the Rohingya, an ethnic Muslim minority, were vilified through relentless media propaganda and draconian laws that limited the number of children they could have. This echoes the torment of the Palestinians, who for decades have faced displacement, military occupation, and discriminatory policies in their own homeland. Both groups also continue to endure systematic efforts to erase their cultural identities and indigenous histories.

The propaganda of the Myanmar government has created a deeply ingrained narrative that paints the Rohingya as illegal immigrants who are a threat to national security. Media and government officials have consistently called the Rohingya ‘Bengalis,’ implying that they are foreign intruders from Bangladesh rather than indigenous people who have lived in Rakhine State for generations. Social media platforms, particularly Facebook, have been used to spread fake news and inflammatory posts about the Rohingya. Extremist Buddhist monks, like Ashin Wirathu, have played a significant role in this propaganda, using their large online followings to incite violence by spreading rumors that Rohingya men were raping Buddhist women and plotting to take over Myanmar.

The Rohingya genocide persists, with over 25,000 lives lost and more than 700,000 refugees scattered across Bangladesh, India, Thailand, and Malaysia. An estimated 18,000 Rohingya women and girls have been raped, and 36,000 were thrown into blazing fires. The world watched as Burmese leader and Nobel Peace Prize laureate Aung San Suu Kyi remained silent, denying the horror, much like Benjamin Netanyahu’s denials before the American Congress regarding civilian deaths in Palestine.

Myanmar continues to block media access and limit international visits to Rakhine State. Yet, in a glimmer of hope, Gambia filed a case against Myanmar at the International Court of Justice in 2019. Similarly, South Africa brought a case against Israel at the ICJ in The Hague on December 29, 2023. These legal battles signify a collective cry for justice that must be heeded.

Amidst the darkness, the international community’s response has often been marked by condemnation but insufficient action, leaving both the Rohingya and Palestinians in a prolonged state of limbo and hardship. The repetition of history, the dishonesty of the West, inaction of global organizations, and structural Islamophobia seem to perpetuate these cycles of suffering.

Allah says, “Hold onto the rope of Allah” (Qur’an 3:103). But are we lost in our own lives, lost in the distractions that pull us away from the cries of those in need?

The question remains: are we truly aching? Is the sorrow of our brothers and sisters in Myanmar and Palestine potent enough to rouse us from our spiritual slumber, driving us in the depths of the night to tahajjud prayers? Is their suffering enough to compel us to empty our savings for their safety and well-being? Is it sufficient to forsake our careers, our comforts, and our pleasures, to stand boldly against tyranny, bigotry, and oppression?

Our history has shown us that Muslim leadership not only took concrete actions to show solidarity with the plight of suffering Muslims but also arranged a redistribution of state resources to aid refugees. For example, Umar (ra) made it a policy to not turn any refugees away, and to distribute the city’s limited resources as equitably as possible, even going so far as to consider pairing up all of the refugees with families in the city until the famine was over.

In the face of such profound injustice, we must ask ourselves if our hearts are attuned to the anguish around us. Are we prepared to make sacrifices, to endure discomfort, and to speak out with unwavering courage? This is a test of our faith, our call to embody the principles of compassion and justice that define our humanity. As Allah reminds us in the Qur’an, “And what will explain to you what the steep path is? It is to free a slave, or to feed on the day of hunger an orphan near of kin, or a needy person in misery and—above all—to be one of those who have faith and urge each other to patience and urge each other to compassion. These are the people of the right.” (90:12-19).

In our collective awakening and steadfast actions lies the hope that history may not repeat itself, and justice, at last, may prevail.