One of the challenges of studying a country like Myanmar is making sense of the complex overlapping networks of identity that have fuelled inequality and conflict over the last century, if not longer. Ian has helpfully offered a constructive critique of my lens of ethnic privilege that compels rethinking how a clearly marginalized and oppressed group such as the Rohingya might fit into the framework. I have split this provisional response (that I hope will encourage more discussion) into two parts, the first of which looks specifically at the classification of Rohingya as a “racial” identity. The second part will deal more generally with the question of how usefully to analyze race, ethnicity, and identity in Myanmar.

The important consideration with regard to the first question seems to be how the Rohingya are perceived by others in Myanmar. Certainly the dominant trend of describing them as “Bengalis” aims to highlight their foreignness. This would suggest a primarily national identity that positions them not just outside of the Burmese nation (culturally) but also outside of the nation-state (as evidenced by the denial of citizenship).

Closely connected to the refusal of most people in the country – including most in the government – even to acknowledge their self-identity as “Rohingya” is the insistence that they are not one of the country’s ethnic groups. The implications of this claim are less clear. I would expect that most people in the country, even many who happily repeat the government line that there are 135 distinct ethnic groups, recognize that this was an arbitrary figure that has never mapped on to actually existing identities. Insisting that the Rohingya are not an ethnic group is a way of mapping them outside of the boundaries of those who have a right to be considered indigenous in some way, but this again suggests a foreignness more akin to a different national identity. In this case, they’re not even given an opportunity to be an oppressed minority ethnic group, which lends credence to Ian’s claim that something other than ethnicity is operating in their exclusion.

The term “race” is itself rather vague. If by it Ian means to suggest nationality, then he’s probably correct in saying that race and racial privilege are relevant identities. In this case we might imagine a time far in the future when ethnic reconciliation and effective devolution of power have more fully incorporated the various ethnic groups into a diverse and vibrant national community, but these other identities perceived as national or racial – the Chinese, Indians, Rohingya – remain outside of those boundaries. All of these groups have, of course, suffered discrimination and repression in recent Burmese history although there are many members of the first two that are relatively well integrated into their communities and not necessarily considered to be outside of the national boundaries.

In a western context race usually refers to skin color and the Rohingya case also contains that element. Skin color has long been a marker of privilege in Southeast Asia, where it supposedly reflects an elite status, not having had to do manual labor out in the sun. Certainly there is a stigma attached to darker skin in Myanmar, where the word kala (in the past simply a marker of foreignness, but these days more often used as a slur) is sometimes indiscriminately applied to people of darker skin, whatever their country of origin. The Rohingya, being of Bengali descent, are darker-skinned than most Burmese and are, in many cases, recognizable as different from Rakhines. Even though globally, race as skin color has never been a clearly defined marker and is probably characterized more by assumptions than clear perceptions, skin color is undoubtedly a relevant factor in this case.

Religion also marks the Rohingya as different from the national norm, possibly more than other Muslims in Myanmar. Anecdotal accounts attest to the prevalence among Rohingya of adherence to Deobandi, a more conservative form of Islamic practice. This means that their dress and practices might set them apart even further. Despite the presence of Muslim communities in Myanmar for many centuries, Islam has increasingly been configured as not only foreign, but a direct threat to Myanmar’s dominant Buddhist culture.

Language and other cultural practices also further alienate the Rohingya from common notions of what it means to be Myanmar. While a significant (but unknown) percentage have lived in the country for generations, many are more recent arrivals (some illegal). Given their conditions of poverty and hardship, they have not effectively assimilated aspects of Myanmar culture and many do not speak Burmese. Note that I make this observation not as a criticism of the Rohingya (there is no reason to expect them to give up their own culture and assimilate and, even if they wanted to, the Burmese state has not assisted their integration into society) but as part of an analysis of how they are labeled.

Having thought through some of the ways in which the Rohingya are perceived and categorized, I’m not certain that we can call the discrimination they face “racial”. Ian’s insight that ethnic borders may be permeable upwards (allowing non-Burmans possibly to become more accepted members of the national community) but racial borders only permeable downward is at first glance a useful separation. But in explaining the downward permeability of “racial” borders, he mentions the ways in which other Muslims have found themselves pushed down the social hierarchy close to the Rohingya. That’s certainly a religious rather than racial categorization. Tomorrow’s post will consider more broadly the implications for analyzing identity in Myanmar.

Matthew J Walton is Aung San Suu Kyi Senior Research Fellow in Modern Burmese Studies at St Antony’s College, University of Oxford. He can be reached at [email protected].