An academic study explains how Myanmar’s powerful groups turned a small religious minority into a feared “enemy” in the public mind. Moreover, they argue that this process did not happen by accident. Instead, military rulers, politicians, Buddhist monks, and public intellectuals built the image step by step, using words, laws, and fear. The authors draw on secondary sources such as earlier research, United Nations data, and news reports. As a result, the paper offers a clear map of how prejudice grows into policy and, eventually, into violence. This article breaks down the main findings in plain language for everyday readers.
Who Are Myanmar’s Muslims?
Buddhism dominates Myanmar’s society and politics. According to the 1983 census, Muslims made up only 3.9 percent of the population. However, the authors note that officials deliberately understated the real number. Muslims in the country also differ widely in language, income, region, and belief. For example, researcher Lambrecht identified six main groups: the Rohingya, the Kaman, the Malay (known as Pashu), Chinese Muslims (Panthay), Burmese Muslims (Zerbadee), and descendants of migrants from Bangladesh, India, and Pakistan. Notably, the Kaman are the only Muslim group the government officially recognizes. Despite these differences, many Buddhist nationalists and successive governments lump all Muslims together as a “common enemy.” Similarly, the 2014 census counted only Kaman Muslims in Rakhine State and left out the Rohingya entirely.
What Does “Otherization” Mean?
Otherization means painting a group as fundamentally different, dangerous, and outside “us.” To explain how this works, the authors use a theory called securitization. In simple terms, securitization happens when leaders present an issue as a threat to the survival of a nation, culture, or religion. Once people accept that message, leaders can justify extreme steps that normal politics would not allow. Importantly, the theory says words alone can start this process. Scholars from the Copenhagen School call it a “speech act,” because declaring something a threat can make it feel real. However, the public must also accept the message. Researcher Balzacq adds that the audience, the context, and the speaker’s skill all matter. Meanwhile, researcher Roe points out that in some systems, elites decide on emergency measures with little public input. Together, these ideas help explain why fear spreads so easily when trusted figures repeat it.
Colonial Roots of the Fear
History plays a major role in this story. Arab traders reached Arakan, in today’s Rakhine State, in the early ninth century, and many settled there. Later, the British conquered the region through three wars, in 1824–26, 1852, and 1885, and ruled it as part of British India. During that period, the colonizers brought in large numbers of Indian laborers and moneylenders, especially after the Suez Canal opened in 1869. Consequently, many Burmese Buddhists came to see Indians as rivals who controlled land, trade, and jobs. Then the Great Depression of the 1930s deepened the anger, since many farmers relied on Indian lenders. Moreover, marriages between Muslim men and Buddhist women fed fears of infiltration. Eventually, riots broke out against Indians and Muslims. According to the study, this old Indophobia later turned into Islamophobia after independence.
The 1947 Turning Point
Further, the authors point to 1947 as a key moment. During the partition of Bengal, some Arakanese Muslim leaders, inspired by the “Two Nation Theory,” asked leaders in the Indian subcontinent to add northern Arakan districts to East Pakistan. Some also petitioned the Constituent Assembly in Rangoon to include Buthidaung and Maungdaw in East Pakistan. Authorities firmly rejected these efforts. Nevertheless, the episode left a lasting mark. Since then, Myanmar’s political elite and many Burman Buddhists have tended to label Muslims as opponents of independence and supporters of separatism. In short, one political moment hardened into a lasting stereotype.
Fear of Outside Forces
Regional politics add another layer. Within the power elite, many nationalists believe outside Muslim-linked forces could use the Rohingya to seize control of northern Rakhine and turn Myanmar into a Muslim state. Some also worry that Bangladesh, a Muslim-majority neighbor, could take advantage of the shared border and cultural ties. In addition, the global “war on terror” gave Myanmar’s leaders a ready script. As the study explains, anti-Muslim messages have framed Muslim insurgents as agents of groups like the Islamic State and Al Qaeda, under both military and quasi-democratic governments. Likewise, some civil society groups have claimed that Rohingya could become “jihadists” with foreign backing. Still, the authors stress that securitization works through perception rather than proof. Furthermore, the many outside players with conflicting interests make any peaceful solution harder to reach.
Monks, Movements, and the Message
Buddhist nationalist groups played a central role. Two platforms stand out: the 969 movement and the Organization for the Protection of Race and Religion, known as Ma Ba Tha. Both present Muslims as a constant danger to Buddhist culture, history, and the state. For instance, the prominent 969 leader Ashin Wirathu urged followers to avoid Muslim-owned shops. He also warned in 2013 that Muslims would out-breed Buddhists, convert Buddhist women through marriage, and take high office. According to the study, President Thein Sein publicly called 969 a symbol of peace while demanding that Muslims, especially the Rohingya, leave. Meanwhile, Ma Ba Tha monks used sermons, speeches, and print and electronic media to claim that Islam is violent and that Buddhism may vanish. However, the authors note that no strong evidence has surfaced directly linking 969 monks to specific attacks. Even so, they argue that the hate-filled speeches planted fear among ordinary people.
Words as Weapons
Language does heavy lifting in this story. Leaders and ordinary citizens alike use labels such as “kalas,” “guests,” “illegal Bengali immigrants,” and “foreigners.” Each term signals that Muslims do not belong. In addition, the authors report that military governments ran training programs for government workers that carried anti-Muslim stereotypes, and officials needed those programs to win promotion. Therefore, the message traveled from elites down to villagers. After 2010, Myanmar’s political opening gave this rhetoric new reach. Public gatherings, state-owned media, and platforms such as Facebook, Messenger, and Twitter carried false rumors that painted Muslims as violent extremists and foreign invaders. The authors describe this as “superficial democratization,” and they argue that new freedoms became a tool against the minority. Consequently, hate speech gained wide acceptance and started to feel normal.
From Speeches to Violence
Eventually, words turned into action. After the political transition in 2011, violence between Buddhists and Muslims surged. It began in Rakhine State and then spread to Meiktila, Kanbalu, Thandwe, Hlegu, Mandalay, and other places. Both Rohingya and non-Rohingya Muslims fled to nearby border areas. Later, between August 2017 and March 2018, the destruction reached a new scale. UNOSAT’s analysis of satellite images found serious damage in hundreds of villages and towns across three townships. In addition, the military seized and bulldozed hundreds of Rohingya villages and started construction projects, including security bases. The table below shows the numbers by township.
Villages and Towns Affected in Three Rakhine Townships (August 2017 – March 2018)
| Township | Total villages | Affected villages and towns | Destroyed structures | Villages more than 50% destroyed | Villages completely wiped out |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Buthidaung | 371 | 96 | 3,500 | 18 | 7 |
| Maungdaw | 399 | 277 | 31,300 | 62 | 156 |
| Rathedaung | 223 | 19 | 2,900 | not reported | 15 |
| Total | 993 | 392 | 37,700 | 80 | 178 |
Source: UNOSAT (2018), as cited in the study.
Maungdaw suffered the worst damage. There, 277 of 399 villages felt the impact, and 156 disappeared completely. Overall, roughly four in ten villages across the three townships were affected, and almost 38,000 structures were destroyed.
Laws That Lock In Exclusion
Laws turned prejudice into policy. The 1948 constitution recognized Buddhism’s “special position,” and the study argues that this step helped formalize the “othering” of Muslims. Later, in the 1970s, the Ne Win military government decided that earlier citizenship acts were outdated and drafted a new law. The 1982 Citizenship Law gave the Council of State exclusive power to decide which communities count as “national races.” It also created three tiers: citizen, associate citizen, and naturalized citizen. Section 3 lists recognized groups, such as the Kachin, Karen, Chin, Burman, Mon, Rakhine, and Shan, that settled in the territory before 1823. As a result, the Rohingya, Panthay, and Malay did not qualify, and many became stateless. Moreover, Section 22 says that a person who loses or is refused citizenship may never apply again. Meanwhile, informal rules favor Buddhist “national races” in government jobs, including the military, and the school curriculum gives Buddhism special treatment.
The Four “Race and Religion Protection Laws”
In 2015, under President Thein Sein, the government passed four laws after pressure from 969 and Ma Ba Tha monks. The study argues that leaders backed them partly to win votes from the Buddhist majority. The table below explains each law in simple terms.
The Four “Race and Religion Protection Laws”
| Law | What it does | Why critics object |
|---|---|---|
| Religious Conversion Law | Requires a person who wants to change faith to get approval from a township board and pass an interview | Limits freedom of conscience and religion |
| Interfaith Marriage Law | Requires a Buddhist woman and a non-Buddhist man to apply to a registrar, who posts the request publicly for 14 days | Applies only to Buddhist women and non-Buddhist men, so critics see it as favoring one group |
| Population Control Law | Reinforces a two-child policy in Muslim-majority northern Rakhine | Targets a minority; a similar policy has applied since 2005 in Maungdaw and Buthidaung, where about 95% of residents are Muslim |
| Monogamy Law | Bans polygamy and treats it as a criminal offense | The study says it targets a practice found among some Muslims |
Source: The study, citing Rahman and Zeldin (2015), International Crisis Group (2017), and The Guardian (2013).
Critics say these laws clash with the 2008 constitution. Section 348, for example, bars discrimination based on race, birth, religion, and other grounds, and Section 347 promises equal protection before the law. Furthermore, the authors say the laws conflict with international commitments, including the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women, which Myanmar ratified in 1997, and the Convention on the Rights of the Child.
Four Stages of “Otherization”
The authors describe a layered process. First, leaders labeled Muslims, especially the Rohingya, as illegal migrants and existential threats. Second, repeated insults, dramatic public speeches, and nationalist propaganda normalized this view and, in the authors’ words, dehumanized the group. Third, the labels moved into schools, offices, and legal codes. Examples include changes to curricula, administrative rearrangements, and the 1982 Citizenship Law. At this stage, the study says, restrictions on movement, denial of basic rights, violence, and displacement gained a veneer of legitimacy. Fourth, the whole process served wider political, economic, and religious goals. In particular, it helped leaders consolidate power, redirect public anger, and unite the Buddhist majority against a common, constructed enemy.
What the Authors Recommend
The study ends with practical suggestions. First, the authors call for dismantling discriminatory legal structures, especially the 1982 Citizenship Law, and for replacing them with inclusive policies that protect minority rights. Second, they urge education reforms that teach accurate, inclusive history and encourage understanding between faiths. Third, they ask for regional and global cooperation to ensure accountability for human rights violations and to support the safe return and reintegration of displaced people. Finally, they say media, civil society, and international advocacy must counter the narratives that fuel fear. Overall, they argue that real change needs both outside pressure and reform from within.
Why This Matters for Everyday Readers
This study carries a lesson that reaches far beyond Myanmar. Hate rarely appears overnight. Instead, it grows through repeated words, then through unequal rules, and finally through force. Therefore, early warning signs deserve attention: insulting labels, claims that a minority is “taking over,” and laws that treat people differently by faith. Of course, the paper has limits, since it relies on secondary sources rather than new fieldwork. Even so, its clear framework helps readers see how a society can slide from rumor to exclusion, and how it might step back.
