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For years, the Rohingya have been portrayed as the world’s most persecuted people, stateless victims trapped between a genocidal military regime and an indifferent international community. Yet, amid the wreckage of Myanmar’s civil war, something new and largely unnoticed is emerging: the rise of a coalition calling itself the Four Brothers Alliance, a unification of Rohingya armed groups once bitterly opposed to each other.

This alliance, forged between the Rohingya Solidarity Organization, Arakan Rohingya Army, Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army, and Rohingya Islami Mahaz, marks a turning point. For decades, these groups have operated independently, often competing for recruits, resources, and legitimacy. Their rivalries have been one of the greatest obstacles to any coherent Rohingya political voice. Now, under immense pressure from the evolving conflict in Rakhine State, they are presenting a common front.

The timing could not be more consequential. Myanmar’s junta is losing control of large swathes of the country, while the Arakan Army and its political wing, the United League of Arakan, have established de facto governance over much of Rakhine. For the first time in living memory, the state that gave birth to the Rohingya genocide is no longer ruled by the perpetrators of that genocide. This power vacuum presents both an opportunity and a danger for the Rohingya people.

The Four Brothers Alliance claims its purpose is to defend Rohingya communities and protect civilians caught between the Arakan Army and the junta. In practice, this could mean several things. It might represent an attempt to establish a degree of local control, to resist further displacement, or even to assert some claim to political recognition. But, equally, it risks becoming yet another militarized actor in an already crowded conflict zone, one that might draw Rohingya civilians into renewed cycles of violence.

The history of Rohingya armed movements is a cautionary tale. In the 1980s and 1990s, the Rohingya Solidarity Organization and other factions operated from camps along the Bangladesh border, sometimes receiving external support but never achieving strategic coherence. They became entangled in smuggling, local rivalries, and factional splits. The rise of Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army in 2016 briefly changed that dynamic. The group claimed to defend the Rohingya after decades of persecution. But its attacks on Myanmar security posts in August 2017 provided the pretext for the military’s clearance operations that killed thousands and drove more than 700,000 Rohingya into Bangladesh.

Since then, the Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army has lost credibility among the refugees it claims to represent, with many accusing it of intimidation, murder, and criminal racketeering inside the camps. For the Rohingya, armed resistance has too often produced catastrophe.

So, what makes this new alliance different?

The world must not wait for another tragedy to recognize the Rohingya as partners in shaping their own destiny. 

Dr. Azeem Ibrahim

For one, the context has shifted dramatically. The Tatmadaw, once the unchallenged center of power, is now on the defensive across the country. Ethnic armed organizations, from the Kachin in the north to the Karen and Karenni in the east, are coordinating unprecedented offensives. The Arakan Army, in particular, has become one of the most powerful of these forces, controlling 11 of Rakhine’s 18 townships. Its leaders, led by Maj. Gen. Twan Mrat Naing, speak the language of ethnic equality, but have been accused of abuses against Rohingya civilians, including killings and forced displacement in recent months.

Against this backdrop, the Four Brothers Alliance appears to be a survival mechanism, a desperate bid by Rohingya factions to assert agency in a landscape where others are defining their future without them. For years, the Rohingya have had no representation in peace talks, no seat in international negotiations, and no presence in the local administrative structures that now govern much of Rakhine. The alliance may be trying to change that by presenting a unified military and political identity that can no longer be ignored.

Yet this strategy carries enormous risks. Militarization has never delivered safety for the Rohingya. It has only deepened their isolation and given the junta and its allies an excuse to portray them as extremists. Unless this alliance develops a clear political wing with civilian oversight, it risks repeating that pattern. A proliferation of militias, no matter how well-intentioned, will not bring justice or security.

Instead, what the Rohingya need is political inclusion and international engagement. If the Arakan Army and United League of Arakan are sincere in their calls for federalism and self-determination, they must open dialogue with Rohingya representatives and recognize their right to exist as an ethnic group. This will require extraordinary courage from both sides. For the Arakan Army, it means confronting decades of anti-Rohingya prejudice within Rakhine society. For the Rohingya, it means transitioning from fragmented armed resistance to disciplined political negotiation.

The international community also has a role to play. Bangladesh, which still hosts nearly a million Rohingya refugees, must resist the temptation to view the Four Brothers Alliance through a purely security lens. Dhaka’s policy has too often been reactive, oscillating between crackdowns on camp militancy and unworkable repatriation schemes with the junta. Instead, it should coordinate with partners to support legitimate Rohingya political voices who can engage both with the Arakan Army and the National Unity Government.

For Western governments, this is a moment to reengage with the Rohingya issue before it fades entirely from view. The formation of this alliance, however imperfect, signals that the Rohingya are not passive victims. They are actors seeking a stake in Myanmar’s future. Ignoring them now would mean condemning them to another generation of marginalization.

The Four Brothers Alliance may not yet offer a viable path to peace or justice. But it reflects a fundamental truth: The Rohingya question cannot be solved without Rohingya participation. Whether that participation takes the form of armed self-defense or political negotiation will depend on the choices made in the coming months by the alliance itself, by the Arakan Army, and by the international community that claims to stand for human rights and justice.

The world must not wait for another tragedy to recognize the Rohingya as partners in shaping their own destiny.

• Dr. Azeem Ibrahim is the director of special initiatives at the Newlines Institute for Strategy and Policy in Washington, DC. X: @AzeemIbrahim