The Myanmar military adopted a range of tactics to retain control over Buthidaung town and neighboring areas in Myanmar’s Rakhine State in May as the Arakan Army was advancing for the final assault. It forcibly conscripted Rohingya male youth and trained them to fight the advancing Arakan Army forces in a replay of the strategy adopted in other regions of the country, where militias called Pyuw Saw Htee were armed to take on the resistance groups.
During my recent travels in southern Chin State and Rakhine State, I interviewed an army major and a police officer captured by the Arakan Army in Buthidaung and a group of four Rohingya clerics and teachers. These interviews reveal that the Myanmar military conscripted and trained over 700 Rohingya youths with the assistance of the terror group Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army (ARSA).
Many conscripts who endeavored to escape from the military camps were killed, while a few were successful in their attempts. The Diplomat interviewed five Rohingya men in their 20s – four in Buthidaung town and one in Mongnupara village in the same township – between June 20 and June 25, who recounted their tales of daring escapes from the military under different circumstances.
Mohammad Joha
Mohammad Joha escaped on May 4, 2024, with two other men from a military center in Buthidaung Township, Myanmar. Photo by Rajeev Bhattacharyya.
A resident of Lawaita Prunre village in Buthidaung Township, Mohammad Joha passed the tenth grade three years ago. He nurtured high hopes of graduating from Sittwe University. However, the government did not allow members of the Rohingya community to attend universities, which meant that their studies came to an end after school. So he was compelled to assist his father, who sells stones for building construction.
Then, in the spring of 2024, the military picked up a group of youth from the village and whisked them to a military center for training. In Joha’s words:
The incident unfolded around noon on April 3. I was seated with a group of 30 people in a mosque. We were discussing the possible outcome of the ongoing war in Rakhine State. About two dozen military personnel and four from ARSA, whom I could identify from their appearance, barged into the mosque and started identifying young and able-bodied men in the group. Eighteen men from the group, including myself, were segregated and instructed to stand in a line. Within minutes we were seated in a vehicle and heading toward an unknown destination that turned out to be the headquarters of the military’s 263 Battalion in Buthidaung Township.
The entire group was taken to a room, where another group of 20 people from my community had been assembled. A middle-ranking military officer informed us that we would be trained for 11 days to defend the township against the Arakan Army.
There was no food for us to eat on the day we arrived. From the next day, our group was served two meals every day. The group swelled to 76, with more trainees being brought in from different parts of the township.
The training commenced at 8 a.m. with jogging and free-hand exercises. There was a break for lunch at 10 a.m. The exercises were repeated from noon for a couple of hours followed by a session on how to use the G3 rifle. We were allowed to fire only two bullets owing to the scarcity of ammunition. All the instructors were military personnel. We never saw any ARSA functionary in the military establishment. We were also instructed to clean the compound and the rooms in all the buildings. Dinner was served at 6 p.m. in the evening.
At the end of 11 days, we were briefed by an officer that we would have to return to our villages and defend them against the Arakan Army. A stern warning was delivered that anybody caught attempting to escape would be shot. We erected defensive structures with sandbags at vantage spots around the village, supervised by five military personnel including a sergeant attached to our group. One G3 rifle with 45 bullets was allotted to two people. The rifle had to be deposited to the military personnel after dark. Our task was to stand guard behind the sandbags and also to patrol the village.
After two weeks, we were taken to a military engineering unit in Buthidaung Township to guard the complex. We thought that the chances of escaping from here were bright since there were only about a dozen military personnel in the unit. However, the next day, two persons were shot dead as they ran away from the complex in the evening. We then felt it would be safer to attempt an escape after midnight a few days later.
On May 4, I and two other men from our village slipped out of the complex stealthily after midnight without being noticed. We ran toward the town located about 8 miles away and arrived at the house of my brother-in-law in Ward No. 5 three hours later. Early in the morning, he took us to a safe location on the outskirts of the town where we remained hidden till May 19. The Arakan Army had already occupied the town the previous day.
We again relocated to a mosque in the town. A couple of elderly persons escorted us to an office of the Arakan Army where we surrendered. We were taken to the police station occupied by the organization where we were quizzed about our experiences. Other members of our community in the station had also escaped from the military and surrendered. We were asked if we were engaged in burning houses in the town.
During the training, we were ordered to burn houses in a village named Thaprataw inhabited by Rakhine Buddhists. Some trainees from my village, including myself, refused since the village was not very far from ours. We also had a cordial relationship with most of the inhabitants of that village. But there was a group of about 30 people from our group that was separated and compelled to burn houses in the town.
We were allowed to return home after 25 days in the police station.
Mohammad Riyaz
Mohammad Riyaz was rescued from the military by his family after the payment of a hefty sum of money. Photo by Rajeev Bhattacharyya.
Mohammad Riyaz is the only male of five siblings. His family lives on the outskirts of Buthidaung town. His father, a daily wager, has been sick for the past two years and unable to earn enough to sustain his family, so the responsibility of earning for his family fell on Riyaz’s shoulders. He earned a living by ferrying passengers on his cycle taxi, working for almost 12 hours every day.
Riyaz said:
I had been hearing of the military’s forced conscriptions of Rohingya youth over the past several weeks and also personally knew of three cases of young men who had been forcibly picked up. But I could not imagine that I too would suffer the same fate. I was a bit concerned but did not have the time to think much about the situation as my entire focus was on the daily income on which my family survives.
At around 10 a.m. on April 10, I parked my cycle-taxi near Buthidaung market as I do every day and waited for my turn to pick up passengers. About half a dozen cycle-taxis were ahead of me which meant that I would have to wait for at least 30 minutes for passengers. So, in the meantime, I went to the market to chat with an old friend who had a departmental shop located about a hundred meters away from where I had parked my cycle-taxi.
As I left the stand and approached the market, a group of about 7-8 people armed with rifles comprising military personnel and militants from our community accosted me and forcibly made me sit on a vehicle. I was taken to the military camp 5 miles away, where I was shoved into a small room with a single window. After about two hours or so, three military personnel tied me with ropes and thrashed me with wooden clubs for two minutes. I thought I would collapse as blood was oozing out of my nose. They stopped beating me but left my hands and feet tied with ropes. In the evening, I was allowed to go to the washroom and then offered dinner along with a bottle of water.
At 6 a.m. the next day, I was taken to another room in an adjacent building where an officer informed me that I would have to undergo training and defend the town against the Arakan Army. I expressed my reluctance, saying that my family would starve if I did not contribute financially. Subsequently, I was taken to my chamber, tied up, and beaten again. The ordeal was repeated every 5-6 days with threats that I would be killed. Then, after three weeks, I was taken to the police station for interrogation where another round of thrashing by police officers took place. I feel it was a pressure tactic to compel me to join the training. I was taken back to my chamber in the military center in the evening.
After a month and four days, some military personnel said they would set me free if I paid 800,000 kyats (approximately $380). They allowed me to inform my family about the need to deposit the amount for my release. Somehow, with great difficulty, and with my relatives offering a helping hand, my father was able to collect the amount, which was deposited in the center. I was set free after two days.
Mohammad Junaid
Mohammad Junaid and two others escaped from a military establishment in Buthidaung Township during training. Photo by Rajeev Bhattacharyya.
Mohammad Junaid is struggling to earn a livelihood. He was engaged as a daily wager in Buthidaung town. His employment had ended owing to the war in the township. He was picked up by a squad of the Myanmar military and ARSA from the outskirts of the town and taken to a military center. In Junaid’s words:
On May 5, I was walking to Ward No 5 in Buthidaung town to meet an elderly man to explore the possibility of getting a job, when suddenly, a vehicle overtook me and stopped. About ten heavily armed Myanmar military personnel grabbed me by the collar and shoved me inside the rear of the vehicle where there were more personnel. After about half an hour we reached a military center located about 7 miles from the town. I was made to stand in a queue with around 60 other people, all from my community, for a health check-up. Then, we were divided into small groups and instructed to sleep on the floor of small rooms in the center. In our room, there were 14 people from my community, all in their 20s. There was no food for any of us on the first day.
All of us were offered rice, pulses, and vegetables at 10 a.m. on the next day. Then, we were told by two military personnel that we would have to burn houses at specific locations and also defend the town against the Arakan Army. There was nothing more that day except dinner at 6 p.m. Most of my roommates were discussing ways to escape from the establishment. I decided to wait for the right opportunity to flee since the military did not know my residence. There was less possibility of getting apprehended again if I hid outside the town. Two other persons agreed to escape with me.
The same rigmarole continued for the next three days. On the fourth day, a young officer informed us that we would have to undergo training for about a week from the following day. We had anticipated this and had decided among ourselves that we would agree enthusiastically to all instructions from the military. The officer appeared to be thrilled with our response.
The training commenced at 6 a.m. with jogging and exercises, with a four-hour interval when we were provided lunch. After lunch, my two friends and I asked the officer for permission to visit the nearest medicine shop. He agreed on the condition that we would return within half an hour. There were two guards near the main entrance armed with machine guns. We knew that the best chance to escape unscathed would be to identify a route outside the complex that would be beyond the effective range of the machine guns.
We began to walk for about five minutes from the gate in a direction opposite to the town when we spotted thick vegetation of trees and shrubs. We moved away from the road and walked fast, then ran for the next 15 minutes. We came across a creek and began to walk downstream through the shallow waters instead of reaching the opposite bank. The trek continued for another four hours until we reached a secluded spot on the banks of a stream where we decided to halt till the evening. Nobody chased us from the military camp. We heaved a sigh of tremendous relief.
I estimate that around a thousand members of my community from Buthidaung and Rathedaung were forcibly conscripted by the military. More than a third were released after payment of a hefty sum of money. The rest were trained and compelled to engage in arson and violence in Buthidaung town and neighboring areas. I don’t know where they were taken by the military following the capture of the town by the Arakan Army.
Hamidullah
Hamidullah owned a shop selling betel nuts, coffee and other items in Ward No 1 in Buthidaung town. He lives with his maternal grandparents, since his parents passed away about a decade ago. He had been hearing tales about the military’s forced conscription but never envisaged that he would also be picked up. In Hamidullah’s words:
At 11 p.m. on April 5, I was standing near my friend’s shop after closing mine. Suddenly, a vehicle stopped near me and about 20 men from the military and ARSA surrounded me and casually asked me if I wanted to lead a life of dignity and affluence. “You cannot live in this condition. The Buddhists will not allow you to live peacefully,” said an ARSA functionary in the group, adding that it was “necessary” for me to be trained. I replied that I was not interested. I thought they would drag me to the vehicle but was relieved when they drove away.
I was standing at the same spot at the same time next day. In a replay of the previous day’s incident, a vehicle with 29 military personnel and ARSA functionaries stopped near me. I could identify some as having approached me the previous day. They caught hold of me, pulled me to the vehicle and ordered me to sit quietly. I was taken to the military commander’s office in Buthidaung where I found another 28 persons who were picked up from my locality. There were about 300 people of my community, from different locations in the township, at the center. We were told that the training would commence the next day, and we would have to execute all tasks laid down by the military.
The training was for two weeks. The session began at 8 a.m. with jogging and freehand exercises followed by lunch and then lessons on how to use the rifle. Each trainee was allowed to fire three bullets from the G3 rifle. We also dug trenches at the center.
After 10 days, a military commander and a senior functionary of ARSA named Halet briefed us that we would have to burn and plunder houses in the town in specific areas and other locations in the township. Subsequently, all the trainees were divided into two groups of 150 each. While one group was sent to burn the houses, the other, to which I was assigned, was instructed to build bunkers and dig trenches in three military outposts in and around the town which continued for five days.
The 150 people were further divided into two groups of 99 and 51. I was attached to the former, which was tasked to defend Aung Monglar village located some 7 miles from the town. We remained there for two days. Subsequently, we were transferred to a school near the center where the training was conducted. We realized that this was the best chance to flee as there were only two military personnel with us. I firmed up a plan with another person from my village. We decided that the best time to escape would be around midnight.
Unfortunately, one of the guards was alerted by our movements. As we stepped out of the compound and began to run, he fired his rifle and the bullet hit my friend, who collapsed immediately. I jumped to the side of the road to avoid being shot too. I hit the trail through the jungle, which was safer. After five hours, I reached the house of a relative in Ward No 7 in the town where I remained hidden till the first week of May. Around May 8, I relocated to the house of another relative in Ward No 1 where I remained till the town was occupied by the Arakan Army. Some elders from our community advised that I should join the Ward Committee formed by the United League of Arakan, the political wing of the Arakan Army.
I surrendered at the police station already occupied by the Arakan Army in the third week of May. I was interrogated intermittently for three weeks and then released. Fifty-nine other people, all trained by the military, surrendered along with me at the police station. I do not know what happened to the others who trained with me.
Mohammad Shali
Mohammad Shali escaped in a group from a center in Buthidaung Township which was abandoned by military personnel following the advance of the Arakan Army. Photo by Rajeev Bhattacharyya.
Mohammad Shali is a resident of Khrusong village in Buthidaung Township. His family, comprising his parents and his eight siblings, had relocated as had other residents of his village to an IDP camp ahead of the battle for Buthidaung. Armed men picked up Shali from his residence and took him to a military establishment near Buthidaung town. In Shali’s words:
We could not leave our house empty. Being the eldest among the male siblings, I opted to stay in the house despite the dangers of bombings and gun battles between the Arakan Army and the military. On April 9, when I was cooking dinner at around 6 p.m., there were loud and continuous knocks on the door. I opened the door to find more than a dozen heavily armed persons from the military and ARSA. One of them sternly instructed me to follow them and sit in the vehicle parked in front of the gate. I knew there was no option but to obey the order. I locked the door and followed them. We reached military camp 353 in Buthidaung Township, about 8 miles from the town.
I was locked in a room inside the military establishment for two days without any food or water. At 7 a.m. on the third day, I was taken to another room in the same building where five more people from my community were seated on the floor. One among them, who seemed to be in his early 20s, had a swollen face and bruises on his hands indicating that he might have been beaten up.
After an hour or so, we were offered food and then informed by an officer that we would have to undergo training and defend the town from being captured by the Arakan Army. We were sent back to our rooms and offered dinner in the evening. The same routine continued the next day except that all the detainees were transferred to another room that had a window without grills. Naturally, all the inmates including me entertained thoughts of escaping but none dared to take the risk. There were heavily armed sentries at the entrance and other spots along the boundary wall of the center.
Around midnight, we heard sounds of gunfire and artillery shells exploding near the center. We knew that the Arakan Army was advancing but doubted if the military would be able to defend the center. Our premonition was proved correct. After a couple of hours, we heard a commotion near our room with somebody delivering orders to grab the weapons and escape immediately. We heard them running toward the entrance. We lost no time in jumping from the window. But the Arakan Army found us within an hour of our exit.
We were taken to a house in the town where we were allowed to take a bath and offered food. There was continuous interrogation for four hours by two officers of the Arakan Army the following day. We were released after three days, and I headed straight to the IDP camp where my family members were staying.