Myanmar's Suffering Is Not Inevitable
Following a devastating earthquake in March, the need for atrocity crime prevention in Myanmar is urgent.
By Zara Rezae
When the earth shattered underneath the feet of Myanmar's villages on March 28th, 2025, it not only killed thousands of people under the rubble, but also buried any remaining illusions about the country's descent into a humanitarian catastrophe. The threat of mass atrocities in Myanmar is not hypothetical. They are unfolding in real-time, intensified by nature's cruel indifference and brutality. The 7.7-magnitude earthquake that hit Myanmar resulted in more than 3,700 deaths while destroying vulnerable and fragile communities that have already experienced significant challenges. The junta forces, Myanmar’s military regime, (known as the Tatmadaw) who seized power in a 2021 coup, maintained their deadly operations despite ceasefire promises, which were supposed to enable humanitarian aid delivery while they punished suspected resistance areas. The destruction of the temporary shelters for conflict-displaced villagers in Chin State was particularly bad, as families lost their access to food, medical care, and safe shelter. Aid trucks, already rare under the military blockade, were diverted or turned away, amplifying the desperation on the ground. Myanmar stands today at the nexus of natural disaster and man-made terror — a convergence that requires decisive and immediate international action.
Myanmar has collapsed, and the risk of mass atrocities is escalating, not receding. Much of the world can relate to what is happening in Myanmar, which reflects a much broader problem of the eroding respect for international norms, as described by Professor Jennifer Welsh. According to the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum's Early Warning Project, Myanmar ranks as the third-highest country globally at risk of mass killings in 2024-2025. Since the 2021 coup, the junta's strategy has been systematic: Terrorize civilians, crush ethnic resistance, erase minority identities, and obstruct international aid. Human Rights Watch and the Global Centre for the Responsibility to Protect (R2P) have documented deliberate airstrikes on civilian areas, mass displacement, and increasing exclusionary rhetoric. In short, Myanmar fulfills the structural and dynamic indicators for impending mass atrocity crimes.
Efforts to find some accountability exist. The International Court of Justice (ICJ) case, brought forward by The Gambia, and the work of the UN's Independent Investigative Mechanism for Myanmar (IIMM) have created avenues for justice. However, these mechanisms remain largely unenforced. The gap between commitment and action exposes the broader failure of the international community to uphold its Responsibility to Protect, as outlined in the ICISS framework and expanded in the UN 2009 Implementation Report. This reality demands a strategy that moves in three directions: Isolating the regime, dismantling its power source, and supporting the civilians and resistance groups the regime seeks to silence.
A coordinated strategy is required to prevent additional atrocities by increasing the price of mass violence for perpetrators, providing support to survivors, and forming durable and equitable governance systems. The objective is to reduce junta control while enhancing civilian resistance efforts and establishing foundations for democratic restoration. This strategy reflects evolving ideas on the Two Responsibilities to Protect.
First, diplomatic isolation must be intensified. The junta's continued occupation of Myanmar's United Nations seat grants it a veneer of unearned legitimacy. Recognition must shift to the National Unity Government (NUG), which is formed by elected officials and includes Rohingya representation. Historical precedent — such as the global refusal to recognize apartheid South Africa's representatives — proves that diplomatic recognition is an influential non-violent tool. The UN Credentials Committee, with pressure from ASEAN reformers and sympathetic UN member states, should deny credentials to the junta's envoys. Even if China and Russia block Security Council action, the General Assembly can act through the "Uniting for Peace" procedure. Recognition of the NUG would enable humanitarian agencies to bypass junta obstructions and strengthen local governments prioritizing inclusive citizenship.
Second, financial sanctions and arms embargoes must swiftly and precisely target the junta's economic and military infrastructure while trying not to be overly destructive to the broader economy. The earthquake's devastation magnifies these vulnerabilities, making the junta's financial isolation — and the humanitarian exemptions tied to it — even more viable.
The Tatmadaw's survival relies on revenues from extractive industries, aviation fuel supplies, and illicit trade. The Council on Foreign Relations reports that these financial flows protect the junta from both local economic issues and worldwide diplomatic sanctions. The military depends on these economic lifelines to fund mass violence and cutting them would strip it of its material resources.
Sanctions must sever these links decisively, guided by lessons from coordinated international sanctions regimes and findings illustrated by the Council on Foreign Relations. Financial hubs such as Singapore and Thailand, currently exploited by the junta, must be pressured to enforce compliance. Arms embargoes, if pursued regionally and internationally, can choke the flow of military hardware that sustains oppression. Crucially, sanctions must be precise, reversible, and humanitarian-sensitive. They must hit perpetrators, not civilians.
Third, the resilience of Myanmar's civilian populations must be recognized and reinforced. Beneath Myanmar's rubble, civil society networks survive: underground schools, diaspora-led humanitarian initiatives, and community-based early warning systems. These efforts show that Myanmar's people are not passive victims, but active agents of survival and hope. International donors must move beyond rhetoric and fund initiatives directly, providing flexible, discrete support for autonomy and safety. Rohingya documentation groups working with the IIMM provide an example of how local actors can feed into global justice mechanisms. Supporting these initiatives is strategic atrocity prevention, an idea that was emphasized by Lee and Hoque's 2024 study on Rohingya refugee education.
What is needed is not just international coordination but international recognition of what local actors are already doing on the ground. These local efforts are not isolated from the broader policy debate; they represent on-the-ground, grassroots applications of atrocity prevention. The community-based resilience models not only meet urgent humanitarian needs but also build the civic infrastructure necessary for future repatriation, reintegration, and justice. According to the Asia-Pacific Centre for R2P, empowering civil protection capacities is a core pillar of sustainable atrocity prevention.
The earthquake that devastated Myanmar's already suffering communities offers a grim metaphor for the nation's broader crisis. In the aftermath, according to Reuters, families in Karen and Shan states were forced to sleep in open fields with no shelter or aid. In many regions, military checkpoints obstructed convoys delivering emergency food and medicine, weaponizing humanitarian needs as tools of political control. Natural disaster struck without mercy. Human decisions — the obstruction of aid, the continuation of military attacks during supposed ceasefires, and the manipulation of relief efforts for political gain — compound the suffering deliberately.
In this situation, humanitarian action and atrocity prevention are inseparable and urgently intertwined. Protecting displaced families from hunger, disease, and gender-based violence is critical for both survival and preserving dignity in the face of systematic oppression. This gendered crisis is not a separate issue; it reflects the same political strategy of weaponized suffering. According to UN Women, the earthquake has disproportionately affected women and girls in multiple, intersecting ways. Women-headed households face a greater risk of malnutrition as food prices rise, while mental health crises deepen under the compounded weight of displacement, insecurity, and trauma.
This suffering is not collateral damage; it is a predictable consequence of a regime that views humanitarian vulnerability as an opportunity for political control. Protecting Myanmar's women and girls means protecting them not only from the aftershocks of an earthquake but also from the guns, bombs, and prison cells wielded by a junta that thrives on their devastation.
If we fail Myanmar again, the world will have learned nothing from Rwanda, from Srebrenica, or even from the Rohingya genocide itself. History will not judge us by the tools we had. It will judge us by the tools we refused to use. The cost of hesitation is now measured not only in broken promises but in broken lives. What hangs in the balance is not just Myanmar's future but the meaning of “never again.”
Zara Rezae is originally from Afghanistan, was raised and grew up in Iran, moved to Turkey and lived in Istanbul for four years, and finally moved to Canada 10 years ago with her family. Recently, Zara got her BA in political science from McGill, and due to her concerns and interests in public health, immigration and human rights, Zara continued her higher education journey at MaxBell School of Public Policy.