For decades, the Rohingya of Myanmar have endured persecution and displacement. When violence reached a crescendo in 2017, over a million Rohingya fled to Bangladesh, seeking refuge from the brutal “clearance operations.” Bangladesh, overwhelmed yet compassionate, opened its borders, but the strain on its economy, infrastructure, and social fabric, it claims, has only grown.
Desperate for solutions, Dhaka has championed the idea of establishing safe zones in Rakhine State -- a proposal first made by Sheikh Hasina and now carried forward by her successor, Muhammad Yunus. On the surface, this idea seems sensible: If Rohingya refugees could safely return to secure areas in their homeland, much of the pressure on Bangladesh would be alleviated. Yet, this vision of safe zones is more mirage than remedy, failing to reckon with both the lessons of history and the harsh realities on the ground in Myanmar.
The history of safe zones is a bleak one. In Rwanda and Bosnia, these zones became theatres of horror, not havens of safety. In 1994, Rwanda’s UN-designated safe zones, hampered by restrictive mandates and poorly-equipped peacekeepers, offered no protection from the genocide that claimed hundreds of thousands of lives. The situation in Bosnia was similarly tragic.
The Srebrenica massacre of 1995 remains a stark indictment of the concept: A UN-declared safe zone, it became a death trap for over 8,000 Muslim men and boys, slaughtered while the international community watched helplessly. These failures reveal the structural flaws in the safe zone concept -- without robust enforcement, clear mandates, and sufficient resources, safe zones do not protect; they merely gather the vulnerable for easier targeting.
The context of Rakhine State makes the prospect of safe zones there even more fraught. This is not a region of frozen conflict or tenuous peace. It is a tinderbox of overlapping hostilities, where the Myanmar military, the Arakan Army (AA), and Rohingya armed groups like the Rohingya Solidarity Organization (RSO) and Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army (ARSA) vie for control. The Arakan Army, floated as a potential administrator of safe zones, has a history of hostility toward the Rohingya, marked by enforced displacements and violence. For Rohingya communities, trusting the AA as protectors is inconceivable, as their memories of terror at the hands of these actors remain fresh.
Even beyond the volatile relationships between these armed factions, the logistical and political hurdles are staggering. Myanmar’s military junta, entrenched and unyielding, is unlikely to permit any international or local force to manage territory within its borders. The generals in Naypyidaw see sovereignty as sacrosanct, and any proposal that infringes on their control -- especially one involving the AA, with whom they are in conflict -- will be met with outright rejection.
Without the junta’s consent, no safe zone can be established, let alone sustained.
Humanitarian logistics further complicate the picture. Myanmar’s military has a long record of restricting aid in conflict areas, often weaponizing access to food, medicine, and shelter. Even if safe zones were established, international aid agencies would struggle to deliver assistance reliably. The conditions in such zones could easily mirror the overcrowded, under-resourced camps that currently dot Cox’s Bazar in Bangladesh, where despair festers and hope fades. Human Rights Watch has warned against the illusion that the Burmese military would allow such zones to truly function as havens, highlighting the risk that safe zones could become instruments of further marginalization and suffering for the Rohingya.
Bangladesh’s continued advocacy for safe zones is perhaps best understood as a diplomatic gesture rather than a realistic policy. It keeps the Rohingya crisis on the global agenda and signals to the international community that Dhaka is pro-active, not passive. But safe zones, as currently envisioned, cannot succeed. Worse, they risk deepening the crisis. If these zones fail to protect the Rohingya or become flashpoints for further violence, disillusioned refugees will inevitably seek safety elsewhere -- most likely across Bangladesh’s borders, further straining an already overstretched host country.
Recent alternatives to the safe zone proposal, such as Yanghee Lee’s suggestion of a humanitarian corridor under the Arakan Army’s control, are equally flawed. The AA’s administration of such a corridor would lack legitimacy in the eyes of the Rohingya and the international community alike. It could also be co-opted by the AA as a political tool, with the Rohingya used as leverage in its broader conflict with the Myanmar military. Such plans, while creative, fail to address the fundamental issue: The Rohingya need protection, dignity, and a guarantee of rights in their homeland -- not experiments in governance by those who have historically oppressed them.
The fixation on safe zones and similar proposals detracts from more achievable solutions. The international community must intensify pressure on Myanmar to create conditions conducive to the Rohingya’s safe and voluntary return. This means addressing the root causes of their displacement: The denial of citizenship, the lack of basic rights, and the impunity with which Myanmar’s military has operated. Diplomatic and economic pressure on Naypyidaw must go beyond rhetoric, with consequences tied to progress -- or lack thereof -- on the Rohingya issue.
Simultaneously, Bangladesh needs greater international support to manage the immediate crisis. As host to the world’s largest refugee camp, Dhaka cannot bear the burden alone. Financial aid, infrastructure development, and long-term strategies for refugee education and livelihoods are critical. These measures are not a substitute for repatriation but a recognition that a durable solution will take years, not months.
The Rohingya crisis demands a rights-based approach rooted in realism. Safe zones, seductive in their simplicity, offer neither. They are dangerous illusions, promising safety while risking catastrophe. For Bangladesh, for the Rohingya, and for the international community, the focus must shift to sustainable solutions that address both the symptoms and the causes of this protracted tragedy. Only then can the Rohingya find not just safety but justice and dignity in their homeland.
Shafiur Rahman is a journalist and documentary filmmaker.
