Rohingya refugees walk at the Balukhali refugee camp in Cox's Bazar, Bangladesh, on Feb. 2. Rohingya refugees from Myanmar living in camps in Bangladesh are condemning the military coup in their homeland and saying it makes them more fearful to return. A brutal "clearance operation" by Myanmar's military in 2017 drove more than 700,000 Rohingya Muslims to neighboring Bangladesh. Shafiqur Rahman/AP
This month's military coup in Myanmar has made an already dire situation for Rohingya refugees even worse, say human rights activists. Now, prospects are even more unlikely for hundreds of thousands to return to Myanmar from sprawling camps in neighboring Bangladesh.
"The coup is obviously good for no one," says Matthew Smith, cofounder of the human rights advocacy group Fortify Rights. "But for the Rohingya, the risk is heightened. This is the military regime responsible for the atrocities over many, many years."
Most recently, in 2017, more than 700,000 Rohingya fled across the border into Bangladesh as the result of a brutal "clearance operation" launched by the Myanmar military, known as the Tatmadaw. It later faced allegations of genocide in a case at the International Court of Justice in The Hague.
Following the Feb. 1 military coup, the fate of the approximately 600,000 Rohingya who still live in Myanmar and any possible plans for repatriating those outside the country lie in the military's hands, activists say.
"They have the plan to destroy us," Ro Khin Maung, executive director of the Rohingya Youth Association in Cox's Bazar, Bangladesh, told reporters on Monday. "Now they are leading our country."
The military's actions, Maung said, have led to past Rohingya exoduses. And a 1982 law it enacted denies the Rohingya, a mostly Muslim minority, the right to hold citizenship in Buddhist-majority Myanmar — even if their families have lived there for generations.
"They will torture us even more"
The repatriation process has started and stopped many times over the years, but in the days following the coup, Commander-in-Chief Senior Gen. Min Aung Hlaing, now Myanmar's leader, vowed that it will move forward and promised to "protect" the Rohingya.
Bangladeshi officials — who recently began shifting some Rohingya to a remote island described by human rights activists as "the Rohingya Alcatraz" — expressed hope that repatriation processes would "continue in right earnest."
But it is difficult to see a way for the Rohingya to return to Myanmar safely, says Smith.
"If there was even a shred of hope for a safe, voluntary and dignified return, it's completely gone now. Though there was not much to work with to begin with," he says.
While few Rohingya refugees were keen to go back to Myanmar before the coup, many are even more fearful of doing so now.
"Even if they try to repatriate us, we will not agree to go back under the current situation," Nurual Amin, a Rohingya refugee in Bangladesh, told the Associated Press. "If they take us back to that regime, they will torture us even more."
Laurel Miller, director of the International Crisis Group's Asia program, tells NPR via email: "Even if the military leadership suggested it would move forward on repatriation as a way of burnishing its image, it's unlikely that Rohingya would be willing to return in a context in which the repression by the military overall is going up, not down."
The coup puts the Rohingya in a difficult position, says Wai Wai Nu, a human rights activist and former political prisoner who is Rohingya. While the Rohingya would rather see a democratically elected leader in place, no government has adequately addressed their needs, she explains.
"I do not think military dictatorship is the solution," she says. But "the Aung San Suu Kyi government was not easy to work with [and] did not do anything to protect the Rohingya."
"We had a lot of hopes"
Civilian rule under Suu Kyi and her National League for Democracy proved disappointing to the Rohingya, says Yasmin Ullah, a Rohingya social justice activist based in Canada.
"Initially, we had a lot of hopes when the NLD won their first term" in 2015, she says. "But as the time goes by, we realized that the civi