Buddhist Monks in D.C. and Rohingyas in Myanmar

In late October, nineteen Buddhist monks quietly began walking from Fort Worth, Texas, to Washington, D.C. There were no marching bands, no elaborate ceremonies, and no media spectacle. They described their journey simply: a “Walk for Peace,” meant to raise awareness and cultivate mindfulness. For weeks, America barely noticed. There were no strategic analytics predicting viral attention, no carefully crafted publicity campaigns. The monks walked because they believed walking itself could be a prayer — a discipline of the body that awakens the conscience. By the time they crossed the Chain Bridge into the nation’s capital, thousands had gathered along their route. Admirers lined the sidewalks. Strangers brought food, warm clothing, and words of encouragement. The winter air was sharp, but the mood was gentle. Their saffron robes glowed against the gray sky, and their silence spoke more powerfully than amplified speech. In a nation often exhausted by noise and polarization, their presence felt like a gift of stillness. Yet this moment of serenity must be understood within a deeply troubled global context.

Myanmar: Demography and Religious Landscape

Myanmar (formerly Burma) is a Southeast Asian nation of roughly 54–55 million people. About 85–90 percent of the population identifies as Buddhist, primarily following the Theravāda tradition. Christians, Hindus, and Muslims form smaller minorities. Muslims are estimated to constitute around 4–5 percent of the population, though exact figures remain disputed due to contested census classifications and citizenship laws. Among Myanmar’s Muslim communities are the Rohingya, a predominantly Muslim ethnic group concentrated in Rakhine State along the western coast. Other Muslim communities in Myanmar include descendants of Indian traders, Persian merchants, Bengali settlers, and local converts who have lived in the region for centuries.

Muslim presence in what is now Myanmar dates back more than a thousand years. Arab and Persian traders sailed to the Arakan coast (present-day Rakhine State) as early as the 8th and 9th centuries. Over time, Muslim communities settled, intermarried, and became part of the region’s social fabric. During the Mrauk U kingdom (15th–18th centuries), Muslim court officials and cultural influences were visible in Arakan’s political life. Under British colonial rule (1824–1948), migration from Bengal increased, as laborers moved within what was then a unified British Indian administrative system. After independence in 1948, however, questions of identity and belonging hardened. In 1982, Myanmar’s Citizenship Law effectively rendered many Rohingya stateless by denying them recognition as one of the country’s officially recognized ethnic groups.

Atrocities and Forced Displacement

Tensions escalated dramatically in the 2010s. In 2016 and especially in 2017, Myanmar’s military (the Tatmadaw) launched what it described as “clearance operations” in Rakhine State following attacks by a small Rohingya militant group. International investigations, however, documented widespread atrocities: mass killings, village burnings, systematic sexual violence, and forced displacement. More than 700,000 Rohingya fled to neighboring Bangladesh in a matter of months, joining earlier waves of refugees. Today, nearly a million Rohingya live in refugee camps in Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh, one of the largest refugee settlements in the world. Others have sought asylum in Malaysia, Indonesia, Europe, and the United States. United Nations investigators have described the campaign as bearing “genocidal intent.” The International Court of Justice (ICJ) is currently hearing a case brought by The Gambia, alleging that Myanmar violated the Genocide Convention. The International Criminal Court (ICC) has also authorized investigations related to deportation and crimes against humanity.

International Responses: UN, US, Europe, and OIC

The international community has formally condemned the violence.

• The United Nations General Assembly has passed multiple resolutions calling for accountability, safe repatriation of refugees, and restoration of citizenship rights.

• The UN Human Rights Council established an Independent International Fact-Finding Mission on Myanmar, which documented crimes against humanity and possible genocide.

• The United States formally determined in 2022 that the Myanmar military committed genocide and crimes against humanity against the Rohingya. Targeted sanctions have been imposed on military leaders.

• The European Union has likewise imposed sanctions and consistently called for accountability and humanitarian access.

• The Organization of Islamic Cooperation (OIC) has been particularly active, supporting legal action at the ICJ and mobilizing humanitarian assistance for Rohingya refugees.

These responses reflect broad international recognition that grave injustices occurred and that victims deserve protection and justice.

The Complexity of Religious Identity

Some Buddhist monks within Myanmar were accused of inflaming nationalist sentiment and encouraging hostility toward Muslims. Hardline groups framed the Rohingya as demographic or cultural threats. These voices, amplified during periods of political instability, deeply wounded Buddhism’s global image as a tradition of nonviolence. But moral responsibility is personal, not collective.

We have no reason to assume that the monks who undertook a winter pilgrimage to Washington are the same individuals who incited violence in Myanmar. Just as Muslims who advocate religious freedom cannot be equated with extremists who commit terror in Muslim-majority societies, Buddhist monks walking for peace should not be automatically identified with those who may have betrayed their tradition’s ethical core. The danger of collective judgment is that it simplifies what is morally complex. It transforms the wrongdoing of some into the permanent identity of all. Buddhism’s foundational teachings emphasize compassion (karuṇā), loving-kindness (mettā), and non-harm (ahiṃsā). A long, silent walk across states embodies discipline rather than domination. It signals vulnerability rather than power. It expresses hope that peace is still possible.

The monks’ walk may not change geopolitics. It may not resolve the Rohingya crisis. But symbolic acts matter. They remind us that religion can heal as well as harm. Here, a Qur’anic principle offers guidance: Let not the hatred of a people cause you to be unjust.” Past injury must not lead to prejudice. Anger must not erase fairness. Justice demands that we evaluate individuals by their actions, not by the crimes of others who share their identity. The Rohingya deserve safety, dignity, and justice. International law demands accountability. Refugees deserve compassion. At the same time, monks who walk for peace deserve to be recognized for the values they embody. Religious traditions contain both those who distort teachings for power and those who strive to live their highest ideals.  The ethical task before us is not to collapse these distinctions but to maintain them carefully. The arrival of Buddhist monks in Washington did not erase suffering in Cox’s Bazar. But it offered a visible reminder that faith can still be a source of solace rather than strife. In a fractured world, such reminders are not trivial. Peace is not only the absence of violence; it is the discipline of justice in judgment.

The arrival of Buddhist monks in Washington did not erase suffering in Cox’s Bazar. But it offered a visible reminder that faith can still be a source of solace rather than strife. In a fractured world, such reminders are not trivial. Peace is not only the absence of violence; it is the discipline of justice in judgment.