Centre on Migration, Policy and Society Working Paper No. 107 University of Oxford, 2013 Is Citizenship the Answer? Constructions of belonging and exclusion for the stateless Rohingya of Burma Cresa L. Pugh WP-13-107 This paper is also published as IMI Working Paper No. 76 COMPAS does not have a centre view and does not aim to present one. The views expressed in this document are only those of its independent author. Abstract The Rohingya, a Muslim ethnic minority group in Arakan State, Burma, are among the most vulnerable and persecuted populations across the globe. Despite their significant historical presence in the country, the Government of Burma does not recognise the Rohingya as citizens, thus rendering the population stateless. Many observers argue that the root cause of the crisis is the group’s denial of legal status, suggesting that granting them citizenship would offer a lasting solution. While the possession of legal status is fundamental to an inclusive notion of citizenship, consideration of other non-formal dimensions of citizenship are just as necessary in expanding the boundaries of inclusion. Drawing on the case of the Rohingya, I will conduct a genealogy of exclusion to illustrate that their status is not merely a product of lacking citizenship, but rather embedded in more elaborate processes of nation building, ethno-political identification, and religious intolerance. This paper challenges the centrality of the concept of legal citizenship through an interrogation of the Rohingya’s exclusion from historical narratives, their ambiguous status, and their current socioeconomic insecurity in an attempt to move the conversation beyond their statelessness and lack of formal status to understand the true nature of their exclusion. Keywords: Rohingya, citizenship, statelessness, refugee, Burma, nation building, belonging, ethnonationalism Author: Cresa L. Pugh, [email protected] Introduction Numbering upwards of one million individuals in Burma, the Rohingya, a Muslim ethnic minority group primarily residing within Arakan State in the northwest, are among the most vulnerable and persecuted populations across the globe. Burma has historically been a predominantly Buddhist country, with approximately 15% of the total population of 58 million practicing Islam. In Arakan, it is estimated that 59.7% of the 3.8 million individuals are Buddhist, 35.6% are the Muslim Rohingya, and the remainder constitute other religious groups (Alam 2011). Despite their significant numbers and substantial historical presence in the country, the government of Burma does not recognise the Rohingya as citizens, thus rendering the population stateless. For decades, Muslims in Arakan, and particularly the Rohingya, have been subjected to excessive violence, human rights abuses, and forced resettlement both within Burma and across borders, which has created hundreds of thousands of refugees and internally displaced persons (IDPs), and has led to a protracted humanitarian crisis. Often compared to South Africa’s apartheid and the current situation in the West Bank (see U.K. Parliament 2013), the situation has resulted in substantial political, social, and economic marginalization of the Rohingya. Rather than addressing the underlying issues of historical interactions, political and socio-economic inequity, and military aggression, there is a tendency by the Burmese government and civilians to view the Rohingya themselves as the problem (see Chan 2005 and Kyaw Zan Tha 1995). The Rohingya case, in this sense, speaks to broader debates on the meaning of belonging and membership. The nature of the Rohingya crisis reflects the state of the ethnocratic political regime of Burma, issues that are deeply rooted in the historical and socio-political context of Burma’s nation-statehood evolution. Islam is believed to have first reached Arakan in the 8th century AD, and through a gradual process of expansion in the 15th and 16th centuries, a distinct Arakanese Muslim community was formed (Grundy-Warr and Wong 1997). Following the colonisation of Burma by the British in 1824, the country was administered as a province of India until Burma gained its independence in 1948 (Ullah 2011). As Burma developed its sovereign identity, the Rohingya were increasingly excluded from the nation-building process and the community became progressively persecuted and subject to harsh state-sponsored abuses. Burma has a rich multi-ethnic and multicultural population consisting of seven ethnic minority groups that constitute approximately 30% of its total population, with the remainder being of the dominant Burmese ethnic group. For generations there has been significant and constant human rights abuse and coercion disproportionately targeted at the ethnic minority communities. The military regime, believing the Rohingya to be illegal immigrants, frequently executed Tatmadaw (Burmese military force) operations aimed at punishing the ‘illegal infiltrators’ (Grundy-Warr and Wong 1997). A series of legal instruments were developed that have stripped the Rohingya of their citizenship effectively making them stateless, and have provided a basis for discriminatory and arbitrary treatment. In the five decades that various regimes have ruled, there have been countless such events ranging in scale and levels of intensity, with the most severe leading to the exodus of hundreds of thousands of Rohingya to Bangladesh, forced labour and conscription, torture, rape, and execution. Following an outbreak of riots between the Rohingya and Arakanese Buddhists in June 2012, there has been a sharp increase in anti-Rohingya communal violence, as well as wide- scale state-sponsored discrimination, persecution and human rights violations. In a recent report from Human Rights Watch (2013), the group makes accusations of ethnic cleansing supported by evidence of mass arrests and abuse of detainees, large-scale forcible displacement, calls for the elimination of the Rohingya, destruction of homes and mosques, and mass graves, all believed to have been co-ordinated by state-sponsored security forces. There are daily news reports of boats capsizing filled with Rohingya refugees fleeing persecution, Thai and Bangladeshi authorities committing violent ‘push-backs’ of asylum seekers, and countless Rohingya being killed in anti-Muslim riots within Burma (see Bangkok Post 2013 and The Nation 2013). The situation has escalated to the level of a humanitarian emergency, with the Rohingya experiencing extreme levels of poverty, condemning them to a position of one of the most insecure communities in the world. It is estimated that there are 29,000 refugees officially living as residents in two refugee camps in Bangladesh, and an additional 200,000 living in Bangladesh outside of the camps in formal and informal settlements without government and humanitarian protection (The Equal Rights Trust 2012). With Burma’s transition to democracy and engagement on the international political- economic stage well underway, it is perhaps the crisis of the Rohingya, as well as that of other ethnic minority groups, which has the potential to undermine the nation’s progress. A significant number of observers argue that the root cause of the crisis is the denial of Rohingya legal status, suggesting that granting them citizenship would provide resolution (see The Arakan Project 2013 and United Nations 2012). These critics nearly unanimously call for the repeal or amendment of Burma’s 1982 Citizenship Law, commonly identified as the instrument most responsible for stripping the Rohingya of citizenship. While the possession of legal status is fundamental to an inclusive notion of citizenship, consideration of other non-formal dimensions of citizenship are just as necessary in expanding the boundaries of inclusion. The 1982 Citizenship Law was instrumental in officially marginalising the Rohingya, but other historical events and socio-political practices of exclusion have also been responsible. Thus, any solution must go beyond the granting of legal citizenship and seek to restore the imbalance created through decades of inequity. The objective of this paper therefore, is to challenge the centrality of the concept of legal citizenship through an interrogation of the Rohingya’s exclusion within historical narratives, their ambiguous status, and their current socioeconomic insecurity in an attempt to move the conversation beyond their lack of formal status to understand the true nature of their exclusion. Theoretical framework ‘Is citizenship an end in itself, or is it a means to a cohesive society?’ This question posed by Bridget Anderson (2011: 4) lies at the heart of the struggle for membership for the Rohingya. Theoretical constructions of citizenship typically emphasize four primary dimensions of the concept: legal status, rights, (political) participation and belonging (Bosniak 2000; Bloemraad 2000). While it may be suggested that citizenship is a necessary category of inclusion for members of a sovereign territory to claim rights, I will invert this notion through an examination of the ways in which citizenship is enacted exclusively to deny rights. ‘From its inception’, Michael Ignatieff (1987: 968) has argued, ‘citizenship was an exclusionary category, justifying the coercive rule of the included over the excluded.’ Citizenship for the Rohingya as either the ultimate legal goal or as the product of dismantling the society’s included-excluded dichotomy will be the focus of this examination. The majority of civilians in Burma have been politically marginalized for decades by a series of dictatorial regimes which, until 2012, only held sham elections that shunned democratic values and ensured that the military would remain in power. Given this climate, my analysis will not consider political membership and, instead, focus on the three remaining dimensions of citizenship – legal status, rights and belonging – as a way of highlighting the unique situation of the Rohingya. In the following section, I examine theoretical literature that explores belonging and citizenship, inclusion and exclusion, and statelessness and statecraft as a way of conceptualising how notions of belonging in Burma have been constructed, institutionalised and perpetuated to marginalise the Rohingya. I seek to illustrate the ways in which each dimension of citizenship plays an important role in defining inclusion and exclusion. In order to contextualise the historical component of the analysis, I take the institution central to the notion of citizenship – the nation state – and explore the conditions of its evolution. Through exploring themes related to nation building, sovereignty, foreignness, colonial statecraft, minority-majority relations, borders, and (ethno)nationalism, in the following section I will examine the extent to which current patterns and practices are rooted in Burma’s statehood evolution. In so doing, I aim to challenge the idea of the nation as an ‘eternal organic body,’ (Arendt 1945: 156) instead arguing that the deliberate and calculated construction of Burma as both an ideal nation and state, by both the British colonial empire and successive Burmese regimes, has resulted in the marginalisation of those deemed incompatible with such ideals. While one cannot deny the devastating impact the lack of legal citizenship on the Rohingya, I argue that other forms of non-formal exclusion have been equally significant in determining their current state. While granting legal citizenship is an important step in the process of incorporation, this action alone will not fundamentally address the institutionalised nature of the discrimination that permeates Burma’s social, political, cultural and economic structures. The final section of my analysis will, therefore, explore these substantive aspects of the Rohingya membership – their treatment and engagement with the state and civilian majority – within Burmese society. Ultimately, I will develop the idea that citizenship alone is not the answer to statelessness. Drawing on the case of the Rohingya, I will conduct a genealogy of exclusion to illustrate that their status is not merely a product of lacking citizenship, but rather embedded in more elaborate processes of nation building, ethno-political identification, and religious intolerance. The goal is to illustrate how these historical dimensions of membership constitute citizenship as belonging; formal determinations of non-citizenship constitute citizenship as a legal status; and contemporary practices and treatment constitute citizenship as rights as a way of fully conceptualising what citizenship means for the Rohingya. Considerations Current statistics on Burma’s population are unreliable and contentious. The last comprehensive census was conducted under British rule in the early 20th century, and recent state estimates appear to intentionally minimise the number of ethnic minorities. The complicated ethnic politics of Burma also render the counting and classification of racial, ethnic and regional divisions cumbersome. Commenting on the difficulty of constructing an accurate historical narrative of the Rohingya, Smith (quoted from Irish Centre for Human Rights 2010) notes, ‘after decades of isolation, the whole crisis is overshadowed by a complete absence of reliable anthropological or social field research, which means that different sides continue to circulate – or even invent – very different versions of the same people’s histories.’ Throughout this paper I will refer to ‘Burma’ instead of ‘Myanmar’ because, although the name is exclusive to the dominant Burmese ethnic majority group and does not reflect the country’s diversity, it is still used by most ethnic minority communities. It is also the name that the democratic opposition uses on the grounds that they refute the legitimacy of the regime that instituted the name change (see Taylor 2008). Given that one of the primary aims of this paper is to highlight state policies of exclusion, I prefer the use of the term ‘Burma’. Dimensions of membership: Theoretical approaches to citizenship Aristotle claimed that humans are political animals by nature, and without membership in a polis, we are not fully human. This idea that our humanity is dependent upon membership in a community is just one of many interpretations of belonging relevant to debates on the highly contested notion of citizenship. One of the most influential current conceptualisations of citizenship is Linda Bosniak’s (2000) theorisation of its four dimensions: legal status, rights, political activity and identity/solidarity. I will focus my analysis primarily on three of the dimensions – legal status, rights and identity/solidarity – throughout my examination of the Rohingya case. Bosniak (2002) cautions against constructing a hierarchy of citizenship as status versus that which carries substantive enjoyment of rights, such as the work of theorists who distinguish between ‘thin’ and ‘thick’ versions of citizenship respectively, suggesting that all dimensions are necessary in the fulfilment of full citizenship. While I will use these foundational elements to structure the theoretical content of the paper, the empirical reality of the Rohingya situation will also be used to challenge the boundary of inclusion and exclusion implicit to the concept. Citizenship as belonging In his seminal account of the evolution of nationalism, Imagined Communities, Benedict Anderson (1991) suggests that understandings of sovereignty over specific geographical territories are a relatively modern phenomenon, positing that borders were historically porous with overlapping sovereignties. With the growth and predominance of colonial and imperial empires, Western notions of the control over space expanded with each successive conquering as well as the introduction of their own concepts of identity and foreignness. ‘Nationalism,’ he argues ‘is not the awakening of nations to self-consciousness: it invents nations where they do not exist.’ These notions are useful in exploring the impact of such essentialising legacies of the Indian empire on the development of Burma and concepts of identity for those living in the region. Anderson further posits that ethnic prejudice is rooted in ideologies of class, and suggests that racism is more likely to manifest itself within borders than across them, creating domestic repression more so than foreign wars. Such a theory is particularly relevant in the context of Burma given that the rise of ethnic tension corresponded to processes of border demarcation. As borders became less porous during the rule of the British Empire, and even more so following the partitioning of Burma and East Pakistan (now Bangladesh) from India, divisive notions of ethnic identity grew stronger within states, breeding new forms of domestic racism and conflict. Dr. Trude Jacobsen (2013) argues that the development of rigid borders had significant implications for the identities and subsequent livelihoods of groups on either side: The statelessness of the Arakanese Muslims […] and their oppression by the states in which they live, is a direct result of borders becoming impenetrable through the application of western norms of sovereignty to an area that even during colonial times continued to operate according to local ideas of space and place. Central to the nation-building project is the mediation of population disparities and differences through unification. Those deemed to be incongruous with normative qualities of the idealised community are excluded from the polity that may thereafter stand in opposition to the excluded group. The result has been the construction of a normative cultural paradigm and ‘imagined community’ that places Burmese culture at the centre and ethnic minority communities at the periphery. While efforts to unite Burma’s ethnic communities under one umbrella – a process known as ‘Burmanisation’ – have subsequently been pursued, such attempts were abandoned with regard to the Rohingya, thereby further marginalising the group and setting the stage for their exclusion from the nation-building project and incorporation into the state. This paper’s historical analysis will account for the evolution and production of the Rohingya as a community of non-belonging in Burma in an attempt to avoid portraying them as having eternally occupied a natural state of abjection. Citizenship as legal status Conventionally, citizenship within the context of liberal democracies consists of three components – civil rights and political rights, which are given meaning through social rights (Marshall 1950). While some believe this conceptualisation of social rights suggests the need for social protections for marginalised citizens (see Ong 2006), the notion has recently been challenged by more progressive understandings of the concept that call for a more accountable means of including such individuals. ‘The evolutionary account of social citizenship,’ according to Walters (2002: 283), ‘makes sense only if we ignore the treatment of groups like aliens who were often present alongside these social citizens, but did not enjoy the same level of social rights.’ It is when a person or community are denied access to such rights – due to their lack of power and privilege – that the notion of citizenship begins to unravel. Exclusionary principles and practices that affirm non-belonging are intrinsic to the concept of citizenship and can be traced through its historical evolution. Though Aristotle spoke of the incorporation of humans into the polis, his conception of who counted as human – those capable of rational choice and who were free – fundamentally excluded large segments of the population, namely women, children, and slaves. Individuals whose benefits of memberships, or rights, have been sanctioned are characterised as ‘partial citizens’ (Salazar 2001), ‘non-citizens’ (Gilbertson 2006), and ‘informal citizens’ among others labels (McCargo 2011). Once these members of the community are without rights, ‘it is much easier to prescribe policies that promote neglect and/or more ruthless interventions into individuals’ lives’ (Dwyer 2004: 97). It is in this space that discrimination becomes routinized, legalised and legitimised through the enactment of formal instruments of exclusion. Many theorists on citizenship argue that in light of global social transformations, it is necessary to re-conceptualise and expand conventional notions of citizenship to accommodate shifting notions of what it means to be a member of a state. Bryan Turner (2001) argues that globalisation and new forms of ethnic divisions have created a need for more expansive notions of citizenship that carry extended rights including: ‘cultural citizenship’ (Miller 2002), ‘inclusive citizenship’ (Kabeer 2005), ‘differentiated citizenship’ (Young 1989), ‘disaggregated citizenship’ (Ong 2006), ‘informal citizenship’ (McCargo 2011), and cosmopolitan/global citizenship. Such post national conceptualisations of memberships are useful in illuminating the manner in which citizenship has moved beyond a category of status and now represents the myriad ways that people interact with each other and their (non)territorial structures. They also directly address issues of power differentials and the way in which certain groups are included or excluded from membership on the basis of such incongruities. While citizenship regimes have come to incorporate more people than during Aristotelian days – that is, a recognition of citizenship’s ‘expanding circle of belonging’ (Bosniak 2008) – many argue that the idea of ‘citizenship for all’ is still very much an ideal. Regarding the integrity of citizenship, Bosniak (ibid: 30) suggests, ‘the progressive trajectory has been interlaced with other, more regressive social narratives’ that has led to a process of citizenship formalism by which ‘citizenship has been extended horizontally to increasing numbers of social groups, [yet] the citizenship they enjoy in substance is often illusory.’ Again, we see that the extension of the legal status of membership does not necessarily carry with it the rights and practices that are critical to full incorporation. It is, therefore, important that any discussion of conferring citizenship upon the Rohingya be equally concerned with such issues. As Etienne Balibar (2004: 35) has famously stated, ‘Man [sic] does not make citizenship; citizenship makes the man.’ Yet it is necessary to address the historical and social components to achieve the incorporation, not merely the making, of [wo]man. Citizenship as rights Individual rights are typically granted through provisions of the state to which a person belongs. Therefore, it is the stateless, those without citizenship living outside the ‘pale of the law’ (Arendt 1951: 277), who are the most vulnerable to rights abuses. Such rights cannot be guaranteed via mutually exclusive institutions, but through their nexus: ‘It is the embeddedness, political membership, and social inclusion that are necessary to have any rights at all, especially the human right to life itself’ (Somers 1998: 7).