
Digital mediation and technologies in forced displacement : Rohingya refugees in Bangladesh
by Rohan Pai, Amrita Nanda
and Sakhi Shah
Migration Stage:
CRISIS
DEVELOPMENT
This case study explores the Rohingya community's interactions with digital infrastructure during their journey and within refugee camps where they currently reside. The objective is to highlight the complications that may arise for stateless, forcibly displaced populations when they interface with digital technologies deployed by state, humanitarian and multilateral actors. The study draws from desk research, field exploration, expert interviews and on-ground focus group discussions with the Rohingya population to situate their lived experiences, and provides insights and recommendations to stakeholders that are involved in technology design and implementation.
This report was produced by Aapti Institute in partnership with the Robert Bosch Stiftung GmbH
Overview
Executive Summary
The forced displacement of the Rohingya Muslim community from their homes in Rakhine State, Myanmar to refugee camps in Cox's Bazar, Bangladesh has situated them within a state-humanitarian paradigm, that has exposed them to surveillance, data maximalism, and negligible agency to negotiate with digital technologies deployed to manage the crisis. As a community that is rendered stateless due to ethnic persecution from an oppressive, majoritarian regime in their origin state, and a host country that is currently offering them temporary residential status strictly on the basis of humanitarian grounds, Rohingya refugees remain extremely vulnerable to policy shifts from external forces such as state and multilateral actors.
Within this context, unpacking Rohingya refugees' interactions with digital infrastructure is a necessary exercise, as digital technologies deployed by states, multilaterals and humanitarian stakeholders act as instruments of control. The design, implementation, and governance of these digital technologies have the potential to both, mitigate or exacerbate the vulnerabilities of the Rohingya community—including breaches of privacy, misuse of personal data, and an increased likelihood of surveillance.
Based on our observations through mixed-methods research, it was evident that digital infrastructure currently functioning within refugee camps in Cox's Bazar, Bangladesh, is primarily designed for logistics and population management, often overlooking the specific needs of the refugee population. The multi-stakeholder environment of humanitarian service provision—comprising state actors, multilateral and international organisations, and non-governmental organisations—further complicates the assessment of how effective digital technologies are in safeguarding the refugee population from further harm. These stakeholders frequently operate under different mandates, objectives, or competing interests - which can lead to fragmented, and sometimes contradictory approaches to data governance and digital infrastructure implementation.
Therefore, through our findings, we have identified the shortcomings in existing practices to govern data and digital infrastructure, and recognised the need to reevaluate and adapt methods that prioritise the protection and empowerment of refugee communities. The following recommendations are extrapolated from the report:
Recommendations for State, Multilateral and Humanitarian policymakers:
1. Protecting the Rohingya identity in the digital sphere:
Given the persecution they faced in Myanmar, the Rohingya population’s true legal status can only be replicated in the digital domain if avenues are created to factor in their current social context. The lived experiences of the Rohingya community need to be represented within their digital identity, clearly demarcating their statelessness and aspiration for self-determination. To meet these conditions, any digital identity system designed for a stateless population must prioritise their safety and privacy, as they constantly remain at risk of being gravely targeted, but provide a secure means to document refugee location of origin. This includes implementing stricter data management practices to ensure that the collection, storage, and sharing of personal data collected for digital identity purposes do not put individuals at risk of being discriminated against. Best practices need to be reimagined for data anonymisation, and robust consent mechanisms should be in place to ensure refugees can maintain autonomy over how their information will be used once it is part of their digital identity. Additionally, there should be clear guidelines and safeguards to enable data principals (refugees, in this case), on how provisions and services associated with the digital identity can be accessed, with offline intermediaries providing inputs on the implications of data being used for such purposes. Most importantly, a means to access essential information and services should not solely be hinged on digital identification, to provide refugees with a choice to remain outside the realm of the digital ecosystem.
2. Enhancing transparency through DPI principles and offline intermediaries:
There is a significant lack of transparency in the governance of digital systems deployed by humanitarian organisations, particularly regarding how these systems are funded and managed. Refugees often have limited understanding or room to glean how their data is collected, used, and potentially shared with other entities, including governments and private sector partners. This opacity can increase distrust and hesitancy to engage with digital services, which may otherwise be desirable. To address this, there must be more offline intermediation to explain the implications of data collection and to build digital literacy within refugee communities. This could involve workshops, training sessions, and the use of data stewards who are trusted by the community. Further, trusted intermediaries like data stewards can embed greater negotiating agency for refugees, in the absence of data or digital literacy. Ensuring that refugees are informed and understand their rights regarding digital systems can enable them to make safer, more informed choices about their digital engagement.
Moreover, increased transparency from humanitarian organisations about their data practices can foster trust and cooperation with refugee populations. The ‘DPI approach’ provides a framework for digitalisation that can ease integration of local service providers within the digital provision apparatus implemented by large-scale multilateral and humanitarian actors. By designing digital systems using open standards, multilaterals can provide interoperable digital building blocks that allow over-the-top innovation from local service providers through multi-stakeholder collaboration. These could also increase public accountability about the digital systems and data governance practices being used to manage vulnerable communities like the Rohingya population.
3. Collective and trauma-informed digital system design:
Digital systems currently in use within refugee contexts are often focused on logistical efficiencies of the technology deployer, neglecting the lived experiences and needs of the refugee community. For digital infrastructure to be truly effective in these contexts, refugees must have adequate provisions to provide feedback and participate at various points in the development lifecycle of digital technologies. This includes involving them in the design process to ensure that systems are sensitive to their trauma and cultural contexts.
Trauma-informed digital system design recognises the psychological and emotional states of refugees, aiming to minimise additional stress and harm by considering digital technologies as ‘systems of care’, as opposed to ‘systems of control’. Adopting such an approach to technology design and development can help reflect the collective conscience of a vulnerable population by considering how the shared experience of a community can be factored into digital infrastructure. For instance, providing communities with autonomy over where their data is shared, and creating alternative arrangements for access to services that are not linked to digital identity can enable trust and help overcome past trauma of engaging with an oppressive state regime. For children belonging to a generation that has grown up in camps without physical association to their origin state, technologies can be repurposed to revamp cultural memories and heritage, making up for the complete absence of cultural or social tether.
By addressing these critical issues, state and multilateral policymakers can develop more inclusive, safe, and effective digital infrastructures that not only serve the logistical needs of humanitarian efforts but also protect and enable the Rohingya refugee community.
Introduction
According to estimates by the UNHCR, there were 117.3 million [1] forcibly displaced people worldwide due to persecution, conflict, and other human rights violations at the end of 2023. This is in shocking contradiction to the numbers a decade ago, when there were roughly 50 million [2] refugees, asylum seekers and people needing international protection. Adding to concerns is the fact that almost 9 in 10 [3] forcibly displaced people now live in low-and middle-income countries.
Forcibly displaced communities typically come with a background of generational trauma and communal persecution. What ensues for people on the move after such displacement is a loss of identity—as the vulnerable and unprotected self is now ushered into a “spectacle of numbers”[4], and cognised by state actors, multilaterals and humanitarian service providers as a crisis demanding control and management. During conflict and emergencies, this state-multilateral-humanitarian paradigm has proven to be a crucial quasi-entity for forcibly displaced persons by extending essential service provision and temporary legal status to navigate a newer socio-economic setting through identification systems. However, this has proven to be a double-edged sword, enabling webs of fluctuating population control and surveillance, and creating a profound susceptibility by failing to meet the requirements for self-determination of the affected population. In such cases, the demolition of the legitimate self leads to the demolition of legitimised protection, often pushing forcibly displaced people into the realm of statelessness.
Mandates and guidelines for multilaterals and humanitarians in refugee contexts
Globally, a look at current figures and trends harkens to a growing predicament that requires immediate attention from states and policymakers. As of mid-2023, 6.49 million [5] Syrians have sought refuge, primarily in Lebanon, Jordan, Iraq, Egypt, and Turkey. Similarly, 6.1 million Afghans [6] are internationally displaced, largely in neighbouring Pakistan and Iran, and 1 million [7] Rohingya refugees from Myanmar are currently seeking refuge in neighbouring Bangladesh. Within Africa, ongoing crises in Sudan, South Sudan, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Somalia, the Central African Republic and Eritrea leave roughly 12 million people [12] displaced, with high uncertainty of return. Latin America is witnessing its largest exodus in recent history due to more than 7.7 million [13] Venezuelans leaving the country since 2014. Recently, two major sites of conflict that have contributed to forced displacement are Israel’s war on Gaza which has led to 1.7 million [14] Palestinians being compelled to move into humanitarian zones, and Russia’s offensive on Ukraine which has left 3.7 million [15] people internally displaced in Ukraine, and 6.3 million [16] Ukrainians abroad.
In this climate, crisis resolution is the need of the hour. Currently, there are certain mandates and obligations set in place to guide multilateral and state action during crises. For instance, the United Nations (UN) and their network partners adhere to established protocols and guidelines while working in refugee contexts. The 1951 Refugee Convention and its 1967 Protocol [17] are the cornerstone international treaties that define who is a refugee, their rights, and the legal obligations of states to protect them. The Convention establishes fundamental principles, such as non-refoulement, which prohibits the return of refugees to a country where they face serious threats to their life or freedom. Additionally, it sets out rights for refugees, including access to courts, education, and employment.
The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) is mandated to lead and coordinate international action to protect refugees and resolve refugee problems worldwide. This involves not only providing emergency assistance but also ensuring that displaced people are protected and that states comply with their international obligations. The UNHCR also develops guidelines and policy frameworks, such as the Global Compact on Refugees [18] which was presented to the UN General Assemby in 2018, as part of a follow up to the New York Declaration for Refugees and Migrants, 2016 [19] aimed at enhancing international cooperation and equitable liability in refugee protection. At the Global Refugee Forum 2023 [20], the need for more localised and grassroots organisations was discussed, with an emphasis on local NGOs, academics with lived experience, Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies, and cities and municipalities who are often at the frontline of any refugee response. Interestingly, the UN refugee agency also released the UNHCR Digital Transformation Strategy 2022—2026 [21], highlighting the growing importance of establishing best practices for the use of digital technologies in vulnerable settings like refugee management. Digital inclusion and protection are set as priorities, with the agency concentrating their attention on ethics and the protection of human rights [22] in the digital world.
On the other hand, humanitarians who form a major stakeholder cluster in this space, are primarily led by the Humanitarian Charter [23], drafted in 1997 by a group of professionals from different humanitarian agencies. The commitment to right to dignity and life, and disaster resolution that form the Core Beliefs, the Protection Principles which inform all humanitarian action, and the Core Humanitarian Standard (CHS) containing commitments to support accountability across all sectors, form the Sphere Handbook [24], that acts as a reference for all stakeholders within this sector. Commitments set out through the CHS emphasise the rights of affected populations, and the obligations of humanitarian actors towards ensuring their needs are met. However, the humanitarian sector has also been prone to function as a business operation prioritising logistics and supply chain management [25]. This is a result of high dependency on international donors for humanitarian aid, and funding cycles being skewed to favour efficient service provision, as opposed to effectiveness in meeting the needs of an affected population. The Grand Bargain [26] (GB), an agreement between humanitarian aid organisations and donors to improve the effectiveness and efficiency of humanitarian aid to get more funding to people in need, is an outcome of the 2016 World Humanitarian Summit. The GB has consequential effects for technology deployment in the sector, as innovation and new technologies have been identified as crucial pathways to improving coordination, accountability and effectiveness to meet policy objectives of the GB. Within a political economy that incentivises hoarding of beneficiary data to access more funding, commitments such as the GB remain at odds with the CHS. This brings to light the disaggregation between state, mulitlateral and humanitarian incentives and intentions, when it comes responding during crisis management, leading to contradictory policymaking and on-ground actions.
Since digital infrastructure designed for crisis is closely dictated and managed by multilateral and humanitarian actors, there is limited visibility into the the make and build of these digital systems. This has adverse effects for people on the move who are forced to interact with these systems, and provided minimal information on how their data is being used, shared or stored. While there may be clear intentions to implement rights-preserving digital technologies, on-ground realities may differ due to various incentives dictating the actions of multiple stakeholders involved in crisis response.
These issues call for a reevaluation of how digital infrastructure and data governance is currently situated in crisis management. Adequate safeguards in technology design, policy and regulation are necessary to ensure that protection of affected populations seamlessly extends into the digital realm. This includes the need to bridge the gap between human rights afforded to affected populations by existing mandates, and their data rights which guarantee privacy and the responsible handling of their personal information. To achieve this, technology design, development and deployment need to shift from being led by state, multilateral and humanitarian incentives to being driven by the needs of displaced communities.
To identify sites of intervention for how digital infastructure needs to be governed in forced displacement, we have engaged in research with the Rohingya community to uncover refugee interactions with digital technologies during their journey to Bangladesh and within the camp structures where they currently reside.
Studying the forced displacement of the Rohingya population
The Rohingya population, a vulnerable group that has faced persecution over decades, presents a compelling case study for examining the role of technology in forced displacement. As a predominantly Muslim ethnic minority in Myanmar, the Rohingya have faced systemic persecution and discrimination for decades from oppressive state regimes. The most recent wave of mass violence in 2017 led to an exodus [27] of roughly 700,000 people, forcing nearly 1 million Rohingya to now reside in refugee camps in neighbouring Bangladesh.
In the camps, digital technology plays a crucial role in managing daily operations and providing services. Biometric registration run by the UNHCR in collaboration with the Bangladesh government, is used extensively to ensure accurate identification and streamlining of essential service provision such as healthcare, cash-assistance abd education. The use of digital technologies in the Rohingya camps highlights both the potential and the challenges of these tools in forced displacement contexts. On one hand, digital systems can improve efficiency and accountability, ensuring that aid reaches those who need it most. On the other hand, concerns about data privacy, consent, and the risk of exclusion for those who lack digital access or literacy remain significant. The Rohingya case underscores the need for careful consideration of the ethical implications of technology use in refugee settings and for developing robust guidelines to govern its deployment.
Understanding the role of datafication and digital systems for people on the move necessitates an exploration into the plight of stateless and violently displaced persons globally. Most of these groups, at some stage or the other, are compelled to rely on top-down digital systems not only to avail crucial welfare, but to rebuild notions of social, legal, economic and political identity in their lifetime. It follows then that any creation of subsequent digital selves and journeys must be explicitly mindful, care-based and geared toward equity and self-determination for the affected population.
This authorship sets out to acknowledge the inherent vulnerability in human mobility, and in doing so, the varied facets of human vulnerability. The following sections expand on our research methodology, findings and analysis, while providing a detailed overview of the history of the crisis. One of the sections specifically focuses on uncovering the extent of digitally-mediated management of the Rohingya population by conducting a deeper examination of five prominent digital systems in use within camps, to place emphasis on data flows between entities and to highlight points where the refugee has limited means to negotiate their data rights.
Methodology
The study adopted an evidence-based, bottom-up and participative approach to better understand the impact of digital infrastructure and data management on Rohingya refugees. The study is thus anchored on complementary forms of research, which reinforce each other to uncover a deeper understanding of technological mediation within refugee camps in the Ukhia and Teknaf districts of Cox’s Bazar.
SECONDARY
Literature Review
PRIMARY
Expert Interviews
PRIMARY
Field Exploration
AUGMENTING
Participatory auto-ethnographic research
Literature Review
We conducted an extensive review of academic and grey literature to better understand the socio-political history that led to the forced displacement of Rohingya refugees, the stakeholder ecosystem that is currently managing response and coordination within camps, the environment within which policy and governance is currently being enacted, and the intersections of these with digital infrastructure and data governance. Sources included:
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Academic research papers
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Government websites, circulars, etc.
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Special rapporteurs by multilateral agencies
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News and media coverage reports
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National and international CSO reports and ongoing/completed work
This enabled reading and understanding of the existing landscape, identifying gaps and further areas of exploration at the intersection of migration and technology focused on the lived experiences of Rohingya refugees.
Expert Interviews
This included learning from various experts to gain insight into the on-ground experiences of Rohingya refugees and to help us fill some gaps identified through desk research. We would like to thank Jen Lynn, Julia Keseru, Laura Guzmán and Quito Tsui who worked at Engine Room at the time of our interview; Miraj Ahmed Chowdhury from Digitally Right; and Andrew Riley, who were all instrumental in guiding us in the initial stages of our research by providing us with an overview of their findings and perspectives. We are also grateful to Andrew for helping us connect with Rohingya researchers residing in Cox’s Bazar, who worked extensively with us to conduct field research, focus groups and key informant interviews (KIIs). They played a significant role in the earlier stages of questionnaire development, bringing their own lived experiences to the table and helping us think through how to frame questions while keeping in mind the vulnerabilities encountered by the community.
Mapping Experts in the Ecosystem

Field Exploration
To broaden our pool of research and uncover diverse perspectives from stakeholders actively participating within the Rohingya refugee management ecosystem, we contacted UNDP Bangladesh to help us facilitate a visit to the camps in Cox’s Bazar. During our 2-day visit to the camps and administrative areas in Ukhia, we interviewed personnel from state-led organisations, multilateral organisations, humanitarian aid agencies, NGOs and other local actors who were actively involved in camp management.
We would like to thank Carl Adams, Armaan Hossain, Michael von Tangen Page, and Sheela Haq, members of the UNDP Bangladesh team at the time, for their continuous support during our visit, ensuring our safety while we were in the camps and helping us get accustomed to certain protocols that were necessary while we interacted with Rohingya refugees and other community actors.
During our field visit, we we conducted interviews with Rashedul Alam from IOM; Mehtab Samir Sayem from NRC; Dr. Taznuva Sultana Tonni from UNHCR Health; Naim Talukder from Inter-Sector Coordination Group (ISCG) Bangladesh; a member from the Accountability to Affected Populations Working Group (AAP WG); a member from the World Food Programme (WFP); Anowarul Arif Khan, Jinia Alam Lopa and Tito Chakma from a2i; Dr. Rafi Abul Hasnath Siddique’s team at Friendship NGO; and Martin Swinchatt and Mohammed Zahidur Rahman from Terre des Hommes. Findings from these interviews have been cited as field research across the report, and we would like to thank all the participants for their time and effort as they provided us with insights gathered throughout their tenures in Cox’s Bazar.
Participatory auto-ethnographic research
Anchored in an ethnographic approach, a research partnership with 3 Rohingya refugees (as mentioned earlier) helped us understand their and the larger communities’ lived experiences in a meaningful, well-rounded and participative manner. As researchers who were victims of persecution and were forcibly displaced, they were able to construct questions meaningfully by factoring in the communities’ social, political and cultural context. In Cox's Bazar, they helped overcome language and cultural barriers in communication with the Rohingya Muslim population, by conducting detailed focus-group discussions with a survey questionnaire we had co-created with them. The team involved 2 male researchers and 1 female researcher who gathered a diverse set of participants for the interviews, conducted the FGDs, translated our questions into Rohingya, and provided us with translated interview transcripts in English; all while providing us an account of their understanding about why participants may have answered in a certain way. This helped us contextualise the responses in the transcripts in the lived experiences of the community, and develop recommendations that are mindful of these factors.
The research consisted of thirty in-depth interviews with key informants amongst the Rohingya refugee community, covering a diverse range of participation across age, gender and location in Teknaf and Ukhia between November and December 2023. All quotations from refugees and key informants come from in-person interviews (unless specified) and discussions during this period in Cox’s Bazar.
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Scoping specific camps and areas for conducting field research.
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Designing, reviewing and translating questionnaires.
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Finding groups and individuals, conducting focused group discussions and 1:1 interviews, transcribing and translating the interviews and helping synthesise data.
Context Setting
Tracking the origins of the Rohingya crisis
Ever since Myanmar (formerly Burma) received independence from British Rule in 1948, successive governments have challenged the Rohingya’s historical claims [28] to Rakhine State—a western state in Myanmar where they initially accounted for nearly a third of the population. In the first decade post-independence, the Burmese government recognised all members of its diverse population as citizens [29], but extreme nationalism based on religion and ethnicity took hold when military rule was established in 1962. The Rohingya were subjected to state-backed oppression, primarily due to their being considered illegal immigrants from Bangladesh [30]. Policies that protected the ethnic majority in Myanmar, the Buddhist Bamar, and restricted the rights of minority communities were implemented [31], legitimising discrimination and violence.
The Rohingya first fled to Bangladesh in 1978, when Burmese authorities launched Operation Naga Min, (or “Dragon King”) [32] to register and verify the status of citizens and people viewed as “foreigners”. During this exercise, Rohingyas’ national ID cards were confiscated, [33] and their homes and property throughout Rakhine State were destroyed. Soldiers assaulted and terrorised Rohingya to the point where about 200,000 of them were forced to flee and set up refugee camps in Cox’s Bazar, a town on the southeast coast of Bangladesh. This marked the first major instance of forced, cross-border migration of the Rohingya community between the two South Asian nations.
Myanmar’s state-backed persecution of the Rohingya population continued in subsequent years. A citizenship law passed in 1982 [34], denied Rohingyas recognition as one of the country’s 135 official ethnic groups. In 1991, when Operation Pyi Thaya, (or “Clean and Beautiful Nation”) [35] was launched in response to citizens across Myanmar demanding democratic reforms, soldiers executed, raped, and assaulted Rohingya. [36] During this period, roughly 250,000 Rohingya were forced out of their homes, leaving them to seek protection in the previously established refugee camps in Kutupalong and Nayapara within Cox’s Bazar. However, after 1992, Bangladesh stopped officially recognising new arrivals as refugees [37], leading many Rohingya to create makeshift camps around the existing ones.
Outlining the historical use of state apparatus to disenfranchise the Rohingya population
The Burmese state’s treatment of Rohingya Muslims since indepedence highlights the role of state machinery [38] in creating a dichotomy between groups that share differing identities. State identification systems served as a means to exercise authority over minority, ethnic groups such as the Rohingya Muslims, acting as an instrument of control to suppress their rights to socially integrate [39] into the mainstream Burmese community. These instances spotlight how state apparatus can be manipulated over time to further the gradual erasure of a group’s identity, and right to be protected as a member of their sovereign state.
Diminution of Rohingya identity through state institutions
In 1984, amidst military rule and the advent of citizenship laws that were now based on ethnicity, efforts were made to delegitimise the Rohingya as an ethnic minority [40], with identity documentation labelling them as “Islam”. These efforts highlighted the intent of the state to strip Rohingya off their ethnic identity, as a means to negate their rights to citizenship. In 1989, the Burmese government issued new “Citizenship Scrutiny Cards”, but the Rohingya never received them. Later, in 1995, Rohingya were given temporary identification cards, known as “White Cards”, offering them limited rights. However, these came with clear indications that suggested they were not a proof of citizenship, and registration lists had now started to identify Rohingya as “Bengali”—intending to suggest they were immigrants without any rights over their land and property in Rakhine State. In 2014, a national census initially allowed Rohingya to identify as such, but after threats from Buddhist nationalists, they were relegated to identifying as “Bengali” again. In 2015, under nationalist pressure, the government revoked “White Cards” [41], stripping Rohingya of their voting rights in Myanmar. In return, the Rohingya were issued National Verification Cards (NVC), which labelled them as foreigners and did not grant them citizenship rights, widening the growing rift between the state and the Rohingya population.
These instances, and the trajectory they shape, point to origins of a genocide that were primarily enabled through state apparatus and identification systems. Public institutions and systems have the potential to exacerbate social inequalities and deepen divisions among various segments of a population when they are implemented by an oppressive regime. By forcing the Rohingya to confront and negotiate with discriminatory public systems that failed to grant them adequate legal provisions and citizenship rights for self-determination, their association with the state was consistently challenged. State power was used to target the population, and ‘other’ the Rohingya community from other social groups in Burma.
In the case of the Rohingya, identification systems were first used to signal a dichotomisation [42] between minority ethnic communities and the rest of the Burmese community. Over time, the state was able to create narratives through identification and other institutional means to dehumanise [43] the Rohingya Muslim population, by first attempting to break their association with their ethnicity and labelling them as ‘Islam’, followed by their categorisation as ‘Bengali’ to indicate they are false claimants of the land and other legal protection that was currently being offered to them by the Burmese state.
The arms of the state extending into the digital realm
In the past, the weaponisation of state architecture to gradually strip the rights of the Rohingya population were enacted through paper-based identification systems. These instances spotlight the significance of identity and documentation as a means to establish a social contract, enabling effective participation within social and economic spheres of a nation-state. In the case of Myanmar, a combination of state identification exercises and law enforcement was used since the start of the military rule in 1962 to diminish the rights of the Rohingya community.
Today, the Rohingya population has been rendered stateless with the diaspora being largely divided across camps in Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh, regions like Malaysia [44], Indonesia [45], and about 600,000 [46] still living in Rakhine State. In the aftermath of the 2021 military coup, civil conflict has intensified, and the military has weaponised the identification system for use against members of the political opposition and other minority communities. This, combined with checkpoints and surveillance, has restricted movement, making it difficult for targeted communities to reclaim rights over land and property.
The growing prevalence of digital technologies within state infrastructure points us towards impending threats of Myanmar increasing state control [47], that can further enable discriminatory practices and strip the agency of unprotected, displaced communities like the Rohingya that are making efforts to repatriate to Rakhine State. However, due to inefficiencies in public infrastructure provision in Myanmar, many opposition members still evade military surveillance. Aware of this, the military has been involved in testing biometrics on displaced people, the stateless, and opposition members [48]. These instances highlight how digital tools in the wrong hands, could increase state power and magnify disenfranchisement of minorities.
On the other hand, within camps in Bangladesh, the UNHCR identification and verification [49] processes now provide roughly 1 million Rohingya refugees with digitally mediated, centralised access to essentials such as food, shelter, education, health and child protection services in the largest refugee camp in the world.
These instances indicate how the long-drawn crisis of the Rohingya refugees is now witnessing the growing influence of digitalisation—the community now remains at the mercy of a digital identity that is offered by state actors and multilateral agencies like the UNHCR. This calls for a need to investigate how the shifting paradigms of identification for the Rohingya, from paper-based systems to digital instruments offered by multiple stakeholders are affecting the community. In the past, identity and data (as information) has been the stronghold of power, surveillance and oppression for the Burmese state, but there is an emerging requirement to assess whether these are carried over into the digital realm with the penetration of newer technological infrastructures that are being constructed over digital identity as the first building block.
Having established the origins of the Rohingya crisis and tracing the role of state apparatus in facilitating the oppression of the community, this study will focus on tracking the role of digital technologies and stakeholders involved in technology deployment to examine whether the historical othering of the community is further perpetrated through current digital identification systems, and how to think about ensuring technological developments are complemented by adequate safeguards to protect the community from further harms through digital instruments.
The mass exodus of 2017 and the evolution of the ‘digital passage’
This section tracks the impact of technology and digital mediation with events that led to the largest recorded movement of Rohingya from Rakhine to Cox’s Bazar, the aftermath of the crisis, interactions with varied stakeholders in their treacherous journey, their settlement within refugee camps, integration with host communities in Bangladesh, the long-awaited repatriation to Myanmar, and ongoing attempts to preserve their cultural ties to their homeland.
After a group of Rohingya men, later known as the Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army (ARSA) [50] attacked the Myanmar border police, the military launched a crackdown on the Rohingya, forcing about 87,000 to flee to nearby countries like Bangladesh, Thailand, and Malaysia.

Credit: Reuters
The ARSA mobilised again in response to tightening restrictions and systematic discrimination from the military, leading to clashes with police and army posts in Rakhine. The government labelled ARSA a terrorist group, claiming they were an imminent threat to national security [57]. Between August 25 and September 24, 2017, the military's brutal response destroyed hundreds of Rohingya villages and displaced nearly 700,000 people [58]. At least 6,700 Rohingya were killed [59], and Myanmar's security forces allegedly fired on fleeing civilians and planted landmines near border crossings. In September 2017, the UNHCR described the military operation as a 'textbook example of ethnic cleansing.'

Credit: Paula Bronstein
Even though Bangladesh is not a signatory to the 1951 Refugee Convention or the 1967 protocol, the government announced shelter and humanitarian support for the Rohingya in the aftermath of the crisis.

Credit: Reuters
The RRRC launched a family counting exercise, with the support of UNHCR. A joint team of over 100 was staffed to collect information on newly arrived refugee families and issue them a card with a unique identifier number delivered by Bangladeshi authorities. The objective of the exercise was to identify vulnerabilities and specific needs among the refugee population and to harmonise assistance. It served as a useful baseline data for site planning, for instance on density per location. The RRRC and UNHCR planned to count all new arrivals in the Cox's Bazar district.

Credit: UNHCR
October 2021

Credit: AP Photo
As of today, the origins of ARSA are unclear, with their group leader insisting they are not terrorists [51] and claiming they mobilised to fight on behalf of Rohingya living in virtual detention in the western coastal state of Rakhine at the time. However, members of the Rohingya community highlight the violent and extremist nature of ARSA, coercing young men and boys to join the group [52] . Recent academic scholarship also labels the group as a Muslim militant organisation [53], with the Bangladesh government proactively taking measures [54] against the group to safeguard from violence within refugee camps.
After the attacks in 2016, the military’s retaliation was fuelled by online campaigns run by state actors, to malign the image of the Rohingya population, and create a perception of them being a threat to national security. A report by Amnesty International [55] pinpoints the failure of Meta in moderating hateful content, and their continuation of using algorithms that had been flagged since 2012 for their capability to promote extremism online:
On 26 November 2016, while military operations were still ongoing in northern Rakhine State, state media published an opinion piece that described the Rohingya as “extremists, terrorists, ultra-opportunists and aggressive criminals” as “human fleas” who are “loathed for their stench and for sucking our blood”. After the 25 August 2017 attacks, the State Counsellor’s official Facebook page regularly posted graphic photographs of Hindus, ethnic Mro and Rakhine villagers allegedly killed by “extremist Bengali terrorists”, using a common slur (“Bengali”) for the Rohingya which seeks to portray them as migrants from Bangladesh. (Pg 14)[56]
- Amnesity International
The ethnic cleansing of the Rohingya involved a systematic campaign by Myanmar security forces, who unlawfully killed thousands, including children; raped hundreds of women and girls; tortured men and boys; starved communities by burning markets and blocking farmland access; and deliberately burned hundreds of villages. (Pg 15) [60]
Our primary research highlighted the atrocities faced by Rohingya during their journey from Myanmar to Bangladesh:
“On our journey, we had to cross a barbed-wire fence. Despite the security guards firing guns, the shots luckily did not hit us. It appeared that they were firing to cause chaos rather than targeting individuals. After crossing the border, we crawled through an isthmus and boarded a canoe to reach Bangladesh [61].”
“Many who arrived in Bangladesh after escaping the crackdown in Myanmar had gunshot wounds. They had to immediately receive treatment after crossing the border [62].”
“If we were spotted during our movement, it would lead to gunshots being fired by the military. Due to my mother’s lack of strength, we had to carry her slowly and carefully. With no car available, we had to walk, carrying her on our shoulders. After crossing Nolboinna, the military surrounded the village and opened gunfire. We sought refuge in a prawn pond to hide. Upon crossing Kunkara Para to Chyra Para, we heard gunshots from the military echoing everywhere. We waited for 3 days in Chyra Para since we couldn’t book a boat in advance. With only two boats available and a high demand for transportation, the process took time [63].
- Amnesity International

In the lead-up to the mass exodus of 2017, the use of Facebook in spreading misinformation to incite systematic violence against the Rohingya is well-documented:
A number of UN bodies, NGOs, and media organisations have documented some of the vast quantity of anti-Rohingya content, including content amounting to incitement to violence, discrimination, and genocide, which circulated on Facebook in advance of and during the 2017 atrocities. In the months and years leading up to August 2017, content that spread dehumanizing, hateful and discriminatory views towards the Rohingya – oftentimes portraying genocidal intent – was rife on the Facebook platform throughout Myanmar.” (Pg 26) [64]
Our interviews with Rohingya refugees highlight how phone and internet access was weaponised by the government and security forces during their journey to Bangladesh:
Credit: Reuters
“Everyone with a phone in my village was in a social media group to share information about the difficulties faced, to ensure safety and security on our journey. When anyone faced any problems on the way, we shared it in the group. Updates and information in the group included the route we should take so that there would be no danger and it was really helpful for us to communicate and disseminate information to others.”
“However, at that time, mobile phones were not readily available to everyone in Myanmar. We could use an MPT (Myanmar Posts and Telecommunications) SIM card, but the government intentionally slowed down the network during the incident. Occasionally, we could find network connections in places near police checkpoints. Upon reaching the river, military personnel and Buddhist individuals would demand money, phones, and other valuable items from the arriving individuals [65].”
During the journey, digital platforms remained critical nodes in relaying information across geographical and mobility constraints, but these instances offer minimal options for those on the move from choosing a platform of their choice. Instead, they are forced to rely on digital applications or devices that are widely used, even if it is at the risk of scrutinisation from the state and related actors with vested interests in surveilling movement:
“I didn’t have balance on my SIM but I had some internet data, which I could use to connect with friends and villagers. I used Whatsapp, WeChat, and IMO to tell villagers who were left behind where to come and which way to use. Our villagers communicated using these applications to help each other throughout the journey [66].”
“I had a mobile phone that I used with a Burmese SIM card. However, during that difficult period, I had no balance on the SIM, so I could only receive calls when people contacted me. I used the internet to communicate about people's movements and discuss the possibility of finding safe routes. However, I didn’t have much knowledge about maps at that time. Fortunately, I was familiar with the routes as I had commuted across the border to receive treatment in Bangladesh a few times before the violence [67] .”
The response to the refugee crisis is coordinated by the Government of Bangladesh, through the Refugee Relief and Repatriation Commission (RRRC) [69] , and by the Humanitarian Stakeholders under the oversight of the International Organization for Migration (IOM) and the UN High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR), through the Inter Sector Coordination Group (ISCG).
Based on our interviews with Rohingya refugees residing in the camps at Cox’s Bazar, it is clear there was prior knowledge among the Rohingya community about refugee camps that were set up in the Kutapalong and Nayapara regions during the initial influx in the region during the mass movements in 1978 and 1991. The Office of the Refugee Relief and Repatriation Commissioner was established in 1992, and UNHCR has consistently supported relief efforts in the region. A report submitted by UNHCR in the 47th session of the UN General Assembly [70] on 28 August 1992 states the following:
By the end of March 1992, the registered refugee population reached 190,000. Attempts to resolve this problem on a bilateral basis were unsuccessful, and in mid-February 1992, the Government of Bangladesh sought the intervention of the Secretary-General and the High Commissioner. The High Commissioner issued an appeal in March 1992 for $27.4 million to cover the estimated needs of 150,000 refugees throughout 1992. The UNHCR Office at Dhaka has been strengthened, a sub-office opened in Cox's Bazar, and funds were released from the High Commissioner's Emergency Fund to meet immediate care and maintenance programme requirements. In the initial phase of emergency assistance, WFP, UNICEF, WHO and local as well as international non-governmental organizations were mobilized to assist the Government of Bangladesh. The provision of assistance has been hampered by a shortage of land rendering it possible to provide adequate shelter for only 54 per cent of the population by 31 March 1992.”
However, the scale of forced displacement in 2017 was unanticipated and Rohingya who arrived to seek refuge in Cox’s Bazar mentioned the lack of resources and facilities available to settle in the region. In multiple instances, refugees highlighted how staying connected over the phone with their relatives proved to be crucial in accessing critical information about where to set up camp:

Credit: welthungerhilfe
I first went to Tenghali camp to look for a space, but there wasn’t anyone from our village. Then I went to Balukhali, where I found people from our village. So, I decided to get a space and build my tent there. I had to buy some black tarpaulins and bamboo to build the tent, as there was no NGO support there at that time. Therefore, my family was staying at a temporarily built, small tent before NGO support came in. [71]”
“Upon arriving in Bangladesh, we reached out to our relatives staying in registered camps using button phones, since we did not have access to the internet or smartphones. Upon contacting them, they instructed us to meet at a specific bridge, where they warmly received us. We stayed at their house for a few days, but due to the large number of people already residing there, we couldn’t extend our stay. [72]”
“Since everyone was heading towards Cox's Bazar, we followed suit. We met our family at Anjuma. My brother-in-law resides in Musoni Registered Camp. After hearing about us, he arrived there to receive us. We came with him to Musoni by hiring two CNGs (three wheeled taxis) for our family. We stayed in Musoni until September 25th. Later, a friend employed at MSF Kutupalong (Médecins Sans Frontières, also known as Doctors Without Borders) contacted me through my friend's mobile, knowing that I worked at MSF in Myanmar. He called me to MSF Kutupalong for a job opportunity. I asked him whether I should come alone or with my family, and he instructed me to come with my family. That's how I reached here. [73]”
Over the next month, in response to the crisis, UNHCR provided support by airlifting over 1,500 metric tons of emergency aid to Bangladesh, including essential items like blankets, plastic sheets, sleeping mats, family tents, plastic rolls, kitchen sets, jerry cans, and buckets. They assisted the Bangladeshi government in developing new refugee sites by funding infrastructure such as roads, supporting site planning, building latrines and wells, improving water and sanitation facilities, and distributing shelter materials. They were involved in the construction of thousands of latrines and water points to improve sanitation and access to drinkable water, reducing health risks like acute watery diarrhoea. Efforts also included mainstreaming refugee protection by developing a referral system and safe spaces for survivors of gender-based violence, and identifying and referring children at risk for appropriate support. [74]
The role of multilateral agencies and NGOs in humanitarian aid and assistance was acknowledged by interviewees during our primary research:
Some humanitarians found us in Teknaf and brought us directly to an open field where they provided us with meals and water. From that field, we came to the place where we are staying now. There were bushes here at that time. We cleaned the bushes and levelled the ground to build our shelters.
The humanitarians who brought us here from Teknaf told us they would provide bamboos and tarpaulins, and we would have to clean bushes and build our shelters here on our own. I knew that I could build my shelter in this space as others were cutting bushes for their shelters. [75]”
"Volunteers visited door-to-door and asked us to go to the registration centre for the family card. The registration centre was in camp-17. When we went there for the family card, the smart cards were granted to us along with it. The volunteers who informed us about the family card's issuance, had also mentioned the smart cards. They said that we would get both cards together.
During registration, the officer asked us whether we had any documents of Myanmar. I said that we couldn't bring any of our documents with us. I was asked to say my name, age, number of household members, village's name and township's name.
The officer was using a computer. When he put my details in it, he got all other details by himself through the online system. Everything was already on the computer.
I think WFP's officers collected the information from us so that they have our population recorded in order to provide us with food assistance. [76]
The purpose of issuing the family card and smart card was to give us access to humanitarian services. We were also told that we can't access any services if we didn’t have the cards."
On 26 November 2016, while military operations were still ongoing in northern Rakhine State, state media published an opinion piece that described the Rohingya as “extremists, terrorists, ultra-opportunists and aggressive criminals” as “human fleas” who are “loathed for their stench and for sucking our blood”. After the 25 August 2017 attacks, the State Counsellor’s official Facebook page regularly posted graphic photographs of Hindus, ethnic Mro and Rakhine villagers allegedly killed by “extremist Bengali terrorists”, using a common slur (“Bengali”) for the Rohingya which seeks to portray them as migrants from Bangladesh. (Pg 14)[80]
- Amnesity International
The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) and the Bangladesh government began issuing “Smart Cards" [77] to Rohingya refugees. The cards are intended to “provide a secure identity documentation for refugees,” according to UNHCR, and to “establish a more efficient system for refugees to access services and assistance.” The cards affirm in writing that the Bangladesh government will not force returns to Myanmar. However, Rohingya in Bangladesh told Fortify Rights they fear the biometric data may be used to support returns to Myanmar.
Smart Cards are meant for Rohingya refugees above the age of 12. The card replaces two existing cards that most refugees in Bangladesh already possess: a white Ministry of Home Affairs registration card and a yellow Refugee Relief and Repatriation Commissioner family counting card.
The Bangladesh Telecommunications Regulatory Commission (BTRC) ordered the country’s major mobile operators to essentially cease provision of 3G and 4G mobile Internet service in the area containing the Rohingya camps, citing security concerns and claims that mobile access was helping to fuel a rampant illegal drug trade and allegations that refugees were gaining network access via black market SIM cards – SIM cards purchase being restricted to Bangladeshi citizens with national identity cards.
The Government of Bangladesh and UNHCR (on behalf of the UN agencies) signed an MoU that established a common policy framework based on protection and humanitarian principles for ongoing and future efforts on Bhasan Char. The MoU affirmed a joint commitment to ensure that Rohingya sheltered on Bhasan Char have access to services including protection, shelter, food and nutrition, water, sanitation and hygiene, health, education in the Myanmar curriculum in the Myanmar language, as well as the ability to engage in livelihoods, capacity building activities, and skills development commensurate with opportunities available in Rakhine State in Myanmar. By the end of December 2022, the Government of Bangladesh had facilitated the voluntary relocation of around 30,000 Rohingya refugees to Bhasan Char. [81]
State of Play
The digital infrastructure set up by the presence of government agencies, multilaterals and NGOs who are actively contributing to humanitarian relief and providing development assistance for the Rohingya, displays the growing appetite for digital systems and data-driven decision making to play a role in mediating migration management.
As of 29 February 2024, 976,507 Rohingya refugees – largely women and children — were residing in 33 camps in Ukhiya and Teknaf Upazilas of the Cox’s Bazar District, as well as on the island of Bhasan Char. 117 partners, which includes 10 UN agencies, 107 international and national NGOs are working closely with the Government of Bangladesh (GoB) to support close to 1 million Rohingya refugees and nearly half a million Bangladeshi host communities.
For the Rohingya, the UNHCR Smart Card provides a means to navigate their current socioeconomic situation within refugee camps, forming the bedrock upon which critical digital infrastructure for service delivery has been designed. Other essential service provision is centred around this identity card, with multiple stakeholders such as the RRRC (Government of Bangladesh), WFP (food and cash voucher assistance), UNICEF (education and child protection), IOM (shelter and site management), WHO (healthcare) and BRAC among other organisations who are tapped into this network. Similarly, WFPs Building Blocks system, that is currently in use for food assistance and distribution of essential commodities like soap. [82] by the UNICEF, is also capable of creating a network for humanitarian aid and assistance as seen in refugee camps in Jordan, Lebanon, Ukraine and Somalia.
The following stakeholder map provides a deeper understanding of how the Rohingya Refugee Response is structured, with the presence of state-led actors and multilaterals that are actively involved in migration management within the Cox’s Bazar camps.
Stakeholder Mapping

The Rohingya response [83] is led and coordinated by the Government of Bangladesh. For the humanitarian community, the Strategic Executive Group (SEG) provides overall guidance for the Rohingya refugee response and engages with the Government of Bangladesh at the national level, including through liaison with the National Task Force (NTF) chaired by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and relevant line Ministries. The NTF provides oversight and strategic guidance for the overall response. The UN Resident Coordinator, United National High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) Representative and International Organization for Migration (IOM) Chief of Mission serve as the SEG co-chairs.
At the field level in Cox’s Bazar, the Senior Coordinator of the ISCG Secretariat ensures the overall coordination of the response, including liaison with the RRRC, District Deputy Commissioner and government authorities at the sub-district level. The ISCG Senior Coordinator chairs the Heads of Sub-Office Group, which brings together the heads of operational UN agencies and members of the international and Bangladeshi NGO community working on the response, as well as donor community representatives based in Cox’s Bazar. The Senior Coordinator also convenes the Sector Coordinators’ Group, to ensure inter-sector coordination in the response.
As a result, a network of actors, like in many different crisis situations, has entered into the digital lives of Rohingya refugees. The following section analyses the usage and deployment of 5 digital systems that are prominently in use within the Rohingya refugees camps in Cox’s Bazar. It’s important to note that these are not an exhaustive list of systems or stakeholders that are involved in humanitarian response and development for the Rohingya, but they provide an overview of technological and data systems, stakeholder roles, and impact on the refugee community. In order to analyse how systems can be designed to safeguard the Rohingya community from further harm, we looked into the following information to compare current practices of technology deployment in forced displacement contexts globally. For each system, we list the deploying actor, a brief description, the migrant interface to access the system, the coverage or scale of the system on-ground, data governance practices, interlinkages with other systems to map flows and usage in other regions outside of the refugee camps in Bangladesh. This provides a detailed overview of the state of Rohingya digital interactions, in order to build actionable recommendations that are based on an evaluation of the aforementioned parameters.
Credits: Rohingya Refugee Response
Technology and Digital Systems at Play
Deploying Actor
UNHCR
Migrant interface
Smart Card, a physical card that is connected to the PRIMES database.
Description
PRIMES (Population Registration and Identity Management Ecosystem), brings together all of UNHCR’s digital registration, identity management and case management tools into one internally connected and interoperable ecosystem. It consists of several repositories for personal data (biographic and biometric) and supporting information, along with multiple tools which make use of the data to deliver targeted protection, assistance, and solutions to refugees and other displaced populations.
Scale
According to the Joint Response Plan 2024 published by Rohingya Refugee Response, there are 1,006,574 refugees residing within camps in Cox’s Bazar and Bhasan Char as of 30 June 2024. [84] However, UNHCR’s Operational Data Portal mentions there are 984,591 refugees, indicating a possible 98% coverage UNHCR Smart Cards within the camps.
Usage in other Regions
As per UNHCR’s Global Report 2023, in the last year, 89% of all refugees and asylum-seekers were registered on an individual basis in the 90 countries where the agency currently operates.
In 2023, 2.55 million individuals were newly registered in UNHCR’s PRIMES registration system in 138 countries, and by the end of the year there were 28.2 million people registered in UNHCR’s PRIMES system.
As millions fled the fighting in Sudan in 2023, UNHCR undertook registration in extreme and adverse circumstances in Chad, in areas with poor logistics and connectivity, and counted almost half a million Sudanese arrivals by the end of the year. It also registered 200,000 people fleeing into Egypt.
In Pakistan, following sustained advocacy by UNHCR, birth registration services for Afghan refugee children were successfully reinstated, resulting in 31,816 birth certificates being issued. UNHCR also supported Ethiopia’s Bureau of Women's Affairs and Children to ensure the birth registration of 15,181 internally displaced children in 2023.
Data Practices and Management
According to UNHCR, PRIMES is fully aligned with the Policy on the Protection of Personal Data of Persons of Concern to UNHCR. [85] However, an archived report published by Radio Free Asia [86] mentions instances of Rohingya refugees protesting against the implementation of Smart Cards, citing issues of unconsented data sharing with the Myanmar government for repatriation purposes.
"We are very worried about the biometric data that UNHCR wants to collect. We believe UNHCR can share this data for repatriation with the Myanmar government, and the Myanmar government can use it to label us as ARSA member[s] or as 'Bengali foreigners' like in the past, or to make trouble for our families," it said.
On June 15, 2021, Human Rights Watch published [87] an article that flagged unconsented sharing of analog photographs, thumbprint images, and other biographic data that were collected by UNHCR during the joint registration process to submit refugee details to the Myanmar government for possible repatriation.
However, UNHCR denied any wrongdoing or policy violations, stating that it had explained all purposes of the data gathering exercise and obtained consent. The agency said that its data collection efforts were aimed at finding durable solutions for the refugees and that no Rohingya were put at risk.
Interlinkages with other Systems
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Identity management (including registration and biometric enrolment) and documentation
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Case management (including the principal Protection aspects: Refugee Status Determination, Resettlement, Statelessness, Repatriation, Legal and Physical Protection, Child Protection, SGBV and others)
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Assistance (cash and in-kind)
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Data management, including reporting and analysis for evidence-informed action for quality protection outcomes
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Deploying Actor
World Food Programme (WFP)
Migrant interface
Electronic food vouchers or e-cards (SCOPECARDS), can be used to purchase fresh dairy, produce and meat [88] from participating markets. The agency is utilising its SCOPE biometric platform, which registers families using fingerprints to reduce loss and theft and helps the agency better monitor and evaluate food distributions. Recently, with the introduction of Building Blocks, linkages have been established with the UNHCR PRIMES database to avoid de-duplication in service provision.
Description
The WFP uses two digital systems, ‘SCOPE’ and ‘Building Blocks’ to provide food assistance for Rohingya refugees. Building Blocks – an online platform for digital entitlement delivery and interagency coordination – is used to capture transactions in all but two camps, where WFP’s beneficiary management system, SCOPE, is used.
SCOPE is a beneficiary information and transfer management platform. It is a cloud-based digital platform using blockchain and real-time data, to improve the coordination and delivery of assistance across the humanitarian sector.
SCOPE can be used to support:
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Registration and importing of people’s identities that can be grouped as households
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Deduplication, and management of the personal data of eligible beneficiaries
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Beneficiary management, including beneficiary lists creation and transfer values
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Transfer of assistance, including cash-based and in-kind interventions
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Assignment of identifiers to eligible beneficiaries and authentication of beneficiaries prior to assistance delivery
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Assistance delivery tracking
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Storage and management of operational data
Building Blocks is a WFP corporate project and the humanitarian sector’s largest blockchain-based cash distribution system that leverages blockchain to coordinate with other humanitarian agencies and transfer cash assistance to refugees securely and efficiently.Usage in other Regions
In 2017, WFP conducted a full-scale pilot [90] of its Building Blocks platform in the Azraq refugee camp in Jordan. It was estimated that close to 10,000 Syrian refugees redeemed their cash transfers on the blockchain-based system.
The system was linked to UNHCR’s biometric identification system that allows Syrian refugees to buy food from local shops using a scan of their eye, instead of relying on cash, paper vouchers or credit cards.
Their transactions were recorded on the blockchain, providing WFP with a full, in-house record of every transaction that occurs at a retailer. According to the WFP, “there is greater security and privacy for the Syrian refugee families, as sensitive data does not have to be shared with third parties such as banks, or phone companies used for mobile money transfers.”
In Lebanon, [91] Building Blocks served as a coordination platform, helping 15 different organisations streamline their operations, and coordinating the assistance before distributing it to the people. This helps avoid duplication and provides families with the right support at the right time, as efficiently as possible. In the aftermath of the Beirut port explosion, Building Blocks coordinated the distribution of US$ 56 million in assistance.
Deployed in Ukraine [92] as an inter-organizational assistance coordination mechanism; 18 humanitarian organisations have coordinated the transfer of US$ 337 million worth of cash to 3 million people through Building Blocks, preventing US$ 35 million of unintended assistance overlap (duplication). This enabled the support of 185,000 additional people for three months.Data Practices and Management
In March 2024, the WFP released the ‘WFP Global Data Strategy 2024 – 2026' [93], articulating four main pillars to create a robust data ecosystem. Pillar 3 is specifically focused on ‘Effective and efficient data foundations – managing WFP’s data assets with data management and data governance’. As stated in the strategy, data protection and privacy in humanitarian contexts remain a key internal driver for data governance measures:
Data privacy and protection is key to reducing the risks associated with processing data in humanitarian contexts, which can place already vulnerable people and communities at greater risk of harm or exploitation. The work of WFP’s Global Privacy Office and initiatives on Identity Management under the Programme Operations Department emphasise the priority given to implementing data protection and data security by design throughout the data life cycle.In the past, concerns have been raised [94] about WFP’s engagements with a private sector software firm, ‘Palantir’. In 2019, WFP and Palantir signed an agreement to allow WFP to use Palantir’s Foundry software platform to integrate data sources from across the organisation, to analyse programmatic and operational data. According to the WFP [95], this was being done to streamline the delivery of food and cash-based assistance in life-saving emergency relief operations around the world.
In a statement responding to concerns raised by privacy advocates, WFP responded [96] by clarifying that the WFP-Palantir partnership did not focus on areas that required personally identifiable information (PII) of beneficiaries. Only anonymized/encrypted information was being used to analyse allocation of assistance to ensure complete privacy and security for the beneficiaries.
However, the concerns around this agreement and its operations have not been alleviated due to the lack of transparency on the specific modalities of data collection and sharing the agreement entails. It’s also unclear whether anonymising data would be sufficient to prevent putting vulnerable people at risk.
Interlinkages with other Systems
In December 2020, WFP conducted a large exercise to take back old SCOPECARDs and replace them with new cards. This was done to integrate WFP’s identity verification processes with the UNHCR PRIMES database. An announcement by the WFP stated the following
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The SCOPECARDs (“sim cards”) will now be based 100% on UNHCR data (your UNHCR “data document” or “data card”).
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If there is a change to your family (e.g., additional member, splitting households, combining households, etc.), please make sure you update your case with UNHCR first.
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Once UNHCR has updated your information in their system, WFP will automatically issue a new SCOPECARD based on your updated information, as required.
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All SCOPECARDs will be distributed through your WFP e-voucher outlet where you normally shop.
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Deploying Actor
World Health Organisation (WHO)
Migrant interface
General Health Card, introduced in August 2023, enables doctors and healthcare providers to access a patient’s complete health history, including treatment received, surgical procedures, medical investigations, and more – all in one place. Prior to this, the UNHCR Smart Card was being used to verify identity and record the use of healthcare services by refugees within camps.
Description
DHIS2 [97] is a free, open-source software platform for collecting, analysing, visualising and sharing data. The DHIS2 data model supports both aggregate and individual-level data — including features for monitoring and following up with individual people or entities over time — and online and offline data entry via the DHIS2 web portal, mobile Android app, SMS, or direct import.
DHIS2 is currently the world’s largest Health Management Information System (HMIS), used by governments and municipal bodies in more than 80 countries as a digital tool to manage routine health data from local to national scale. Countries also use DHIS2 to create and maintain individual health records, including patient monitoring and follow-up, case-based disease surveillance, immunisation registries, and more. Within DHIS2, data from all of these programs is collected into one platform — accessible at all levels of the health system — where it can be used for planning, monitoring and evaluation, budgeting, operational decision making, and patient follow up.
DHIS2 is the national Health Management Information System tool in Bangladesh, [98] and the Directorate General of Health Services (DGHS), an agency of the Ministry of Health & Family Welfare of Bangladesh developed an “FDMN server” in 2017 for reporting by partners working in the Rohingya refugee response.Scale
As per a report [99] published by the Health Sector in Cox’s Bazar, that outlined the Strategic Plan 2023-2024, there were about 77 health partners including the MoHFW, UN, and I/NGOs that are providing a range of health services based on the government-approved minimum package of essential health services for primary health care as of April 2022. However, the percentage of health facilities completing a report and updating it to DHIS2 stood at less than 50%.
Usage in other Regions
DHIS2 is the world’s largest Health Information Management System (HMIS) platform, in use by ministries of health in 80 low and middle-income countries. 3.2 billion people (40% of the world’s population) live in countries where DHIS2 is used. With the inclusion of NGO-based programs, DHIS2 is in use in more than 100 countries.
In Nigeria, [100] the Ministry of Health extended its DHIS2-based HMIS to include logistics and stock management for immunisation programs, supporting improvements in vaccination coverage and a 5,000% reduction in reported stockouts nationwide. This was achieved through an integration of last-mile vaccine supply chain data in DHIS2 to improve visibility and use at sub-national levels.
In Pakistan, [101] an integrated public DHIS2 dashboard [102] developed by HISP Pakistan and the HISP Centre at UiO in collaboration with TECH/IT Department of NIH is used to evaluate the impact of the floods on the health status of the population as well as the degree of disruption of the health infrastructures and services.
In Uganda, [103] following the adoption of the revised guidelines on Integrated Disease Surveillance and Response (IDSR) in 2019, DHIS2 has been customised in Uganda as a national eIDSR system. [104] During the COVID-19 pandemic, virtual trainings to District Health Teams were conducted for more than 90% of the districts within the country, helping them upgrade to a single platform for alert management, case notification and investigation and case management to avoid duplicate data entry and streamline the response.Data Practices and Management
The HISP Centre at the University of Oslo [105] — which develops and supports DHIS2 — has been officially designated as a WHO Collaborating Centre for innovation and implementation research on health system strengthening. Through this collaboration, practical implementation products and tools as part of the DHIS2 Health Data Toolkit are produced to support and promote country adoption of the WHO’s routine health information system standards for data analysis.
The DHIS2 documentation guidelines [106] provide suggestions for adhering to certain data management practices prior to implementation of the system for integration with other regional health service providers:
All community level stakeholders must agree to common data standards and high-level coordination based on accountability, transparency and local participation. Key to these standards are common data collection formats that reduce the data burden of the CHW and minimise the fragmentation of the CHIS.
These guidelines ensure there are provisions for interoperability, a condition that can enable further coordination between all the actors involved in service provision. This would also streamline health service accessibility for the affected population as their personal health records would be available across systems plugged into the interoperable network. However, consultative processes need to be used for the creation of standards and organisations working in the sector will need to add further capacity to provide and record health services using digital interfaces.
DHIS2, also being recognised as a Digital Public Good [107] (DPG), provides an additional layer of credibility regarding their adherence to principles of data privacy, transparency and do-no-harm as qualified by the DPG Standard.[108]Interlinkages with other Systems
There health partners that include government bodies, UN and I/NGOs are plugged into the DHIS2 network when they use the platform for health data records and management, but linkages with other systems are closely controlled by the WHO.
There is a lack of information available about whether the newly introduced General Health Card is connected to the UNHCR PRIMES database. However, health facilities previously used the Smart Card for identity and verification purposes when refugees used treatment facilities.
Deploying Actor
World Food Programme (WFP)
Migrant interface
The ETC was specifically set up to enable digital connectivity among humanitarian service providers, enabling refugees to access aid and assistance through offline intermediaries such as volunteers or trained personnel who were mediating the provision of these services. This equipped humanitarian organisations to use digital technologies and systems to manage their service provision and coordination, but did not offer a direct digital interface for the refugees.
However, in collaboration with the Communicating with Communities (CwC) Working Group, the Emergency Telecommunications Sector (ETS) set up the CwC centres in 2018 and the ETC CONNECT [109] mobile app in 2017. These initiatives were introduced to provide the refugee community with access to vital information and communication channels. In 2018, BRAC, an international non-government organisation (INGO), piloted [110] ETC CONNECT to test its two-way communication between refugees and aid workers, digitally registering and helping humanitarian organisations respond to information requests and confidential complaints. As stated in a blog post by ETC during the pilot phase,
“BRAC receives on average 800 feedback and information requests related to humanitarian services from the affected population through ETC CONNECT. The information is collected in a database and can be shared with the Communications with Communities (CwC) working group in Bangladesh, providing additional insights for humanitarian relief efforts aimed at improving women’s reality in refugee camps.”
Description
ETC [111] is a global network of organisations that work together to provide shared communications services in humanitarian emergencies. Within 48 hours of a disaster, the ETC provides vital security communications services and voice and Internet connectivity to assist the response community in their life-saving operations. Led by the World Food Programme (WFP), [112] 29 partners are involved in operationalising the ETC with local partners and reconnecting communities in crisis-affected areas.
Scale
As per a report [113] by NetHope in 2020, a partner organisation working in emergency telecommunications, the WFP had initiated establishing infrastructure to support the electronic Point of Sales devices for use with electronic voucher sales in their food distribution supermarkets in the camp settlements. Later, a Chātā network was established, with a plan to use existing telecommunications towers built to connect UNHCR sites, to house point to point radios and antenna for the extension of bandwidth availability to more locations. A network technical design and requirements document was published with the aim to connect 15,000 users at up to 1,000 sites.
As of 2024, the Emergency Telecommunications Sector (ETS) has handed over its services to local partners in Bangladesh after 7 years of being involved in the Rohingya refugee crisis response. In a situation report published by the ETS, they state:
“Over its seven-year response period, the ETS established reliable internet connectivity and security communications systems across Cox’s Bazar, Ukhiya, and Teknaf. This ensured vital support for humanitarian operations, directly benefiting 790 humanitarian workers from 21 organisations, and connecting 102 sites to basic services such as healthcare, WASH (Water, Sanitation, and Hygiene), nutrition, and emergency food distribution.”Usage in other Regions
In Palestine, [114] the ETC was activated on 31 October 2023 to meet the urgent need to support access to independent and reliable shared communications services for humanitarian organisations operating in Gaza. Since 09 January, the ETC has had a presence in Rafah, supporting humanitarian agencies with ICT assessments, technical advice and information, repairs, and guidance on the use of ICT equipment. Currently, 19 humanitarian partners are being provided with ETC ICT HELPDESK services.
In Ukraine, [115] ETC was activated on 03 March 2022 following the escalation of armed conflict between Ukraine and the Russian Federation. As per a report [116] by the ETC, 25 percent of fixed telecommunications networks in Ukraine have been damaged and 4,300 mobile base stations have been either destroyed or damaged due to the ongoing conflict. Cyber attacks have further burdened operators serving large roaming traffic for almost four million Ukrainian refugees. The ETC is involved in expanding the VHF radio network across eight priority sites along Ukraine’s frontline to facilitate more robust security communications systems for UN staff in high-risk areas of the response. It is also actively deploying cyber security solutions and VSATs to provide secure networks and back-up connectivity to humanitarians.Data Practices and Management
There is limited information published on adherence of the ETC to data governance policies or principles.
Interlinkages with other Systems
The usage of ETS services for digital connectivity and online data management by humanitarian partners for the provision of aid and assistance is evident. However, there is a lack of transparency on the type of data sharing between partner organisations and whether any specific data is being collected about refugees when they interact with systems that are reliant on ETS-backed connectivity.
Deploying Actor
DRC, IOM, UNHCR, with on-ground partners BRAC, Action Aid Bangladesh, Technical Assistance Inc (TAI), CARE
Migrant interface
The CFP is implemented [117] by nearly 400 field staff who have been trained on systems operation and the collection of community feedback across multiple agencies that include BRAC, Action Aid Bangladesh, Technical Assistance Inc (TAI) and CARE. The presence of offline intermediaries to register complaints on a digital platform on behalf of the refugees helps them access the service more effectively.
Description
The Common Feedback Platform (CFP) [118] is a joint inter-agency report that gives an overview of some of the community feedback that is raised within the Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh Rohingya response. Through Complaints and Feedback Mechanisms (CFMs), affected communities share challenges regarding programs, services, and the associated humanitarian response. The anonymized data from different organisations are then combined and consolidated on a monthly basis to produce these outputs. The CFP aims to contribute towards Accountability to Affected Populations (AAP) [119] and inform programming. It was developed to improve complaint management and reporting through harmonised referral standards developed directly with the Sectors and main actors responsible for responding to complaints.
The CFP is currently based on a system of Kobo forms and an MS Access database that processes and appends community feedback. Through this approach, the system is scalable, adjustable, and relatively free of charge to expand on a per-user basis.
Scale
In the month of April 2024 alone, [120] 83,880 tickets were received across 34 sites. Out of these, 27,258 tickets were closed on the spot, and 29,846 responses were received from relevant actors to whom the complaints were referred to. Previously monthly reports display similar statistics, with tickets received ranging anywhere from 70,000 to 100,000 across 35 sites.
Data Practices and Management
This activity is overseen by the IOM, UNHCR, and DRC who are trained on how to manage, clean, and refer community feedback data with respect to data protection guidance in line with the Accountability Manifesto. [122] These include technical standards for sensitive and non-sensitive community feedback, and sector specific-referral data entry options about what fields of information need to be collected.
Interlinkages with other Systems
There is minimal information available about the CFP database being used by other stakeholders or systems for their operations.
Sources
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https://reliefweb.int/report/bangladesh/common-feedback-platform-monthly-sector-report-april-2024
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https://reliefweb.int/report/bangladesh/common-feedback-platform-monthly-sector-report-may-2023
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https://rohingyaresponse.org/cross-cutting/accountability-to-affected-people-aap/
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https://rohingyaresponse.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/accountability_manifesto_cwc_wg_20190801.pdf
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Analysing the Impact of Digital Infrastructure in Rohingya Refugee Camps
Within the camps, the deployment of digital infrastructure in managing humanitarian service provision and development assistance has proved to be crucial in streamlining the processes for the delivery of essential services such as shelter, health care and sanitation, education and skills development, legal assistance, and prevention of gender-based violence. According to humanitarian agencies, providing a form of identification to refugees can help them set up virtual contact for access to basic assistance and protection, [123] and individual data collected by these agencies during registration can provide comprehensive inputs for efficient service provision. [124] Additionally, they believe intentional technological design choices can increase accountability and lower the risk of fraud, as evidenced by decentralised, blockchain networks set up by the WFP. [125] However, the prevalence of digital systems does not guarantee equal access or benefits for all individuals. Limited or nonexistent access to the internet, low levels of digital literacy, and socioeconomic, linguistic, and cultural barriers prove to be barriers for many forcibly displaced populations. [126] Additionally, how digital infrastructure is deployed and how the data generated from these digital systems is governed impacts the benefits, extent of empowerment, potential for harm and vulnerability of migrant and refugee populations generally.
Various digital systems are relied on by different stakeholders to manage the crisis response—but the digital footprints collected through these systems have the potential to aid surveillance and restrict movement for refugees. At the same time, the governance of data generated from these digital systems remains unclear and non-transparent, and these can have wide-ranging implications for vulnerable populations like the Rohingya refugees who remain at risk of being targeted by their origin state.
The identity paradox created by the UNHCR Smart Card
While the UNHCR is mandated to act in emergency situations, their digital infrastructure is closely integrated with partners within their network, which usually include UN organisations or other legacy humanitarian agencies. On one hand, this restricts local service providers and NGOs from playing a more proactive role in migration management, but additionally, it also reduces the accountability of legacy humanitarian organisations towards the affected population due to the dependency they are able to create through digital infrastructure they deploy for service provision.
This was evident in our interviews with refugees residing in Camp 18, where they indicated the dichotomy in their encounters with UNHCR and the provisions that are enabled through the Smart Card.
“Since UNHCR possesses all our information, there’s concern they might use it during repatriation. They could potentially present our information internationally as evidence. However, we hesitated to inquire about the purpose of the data collection, given their high-ranking positions and our status as refugees which made us feel apprehensive. They also remained silent about it.”
UNHCR’s position as an organisation that has the credibility to provide recognition and rights to the Rohingya to access services within camps creates a top-down power structure between the organisation and the refugee. Even concerns about data sharing and collection are not raised, as there is an aspiration attached to the possibility of such data being collected enabling them to access a better life in other regions.
“But, in general we feel positive about sharing our information to obtain the Smart Card. Given our refugee status, we believe it’s important for the world to be aware of our information, and we don’t harbour negative feelings about sharing it.”
This disincentivises organisations like the UNHCR, and other related agencies with widely scaled networks from adhering to strict accountability measures simply because of the power they wield through essential service provision that is dependent on their infrastructural capacity and strength.
For instance, Smart Cards provide refugees with some agency by granting them the ability to transact with aid organisations such as the WFP for rations, BRAC for health services, UNICEF for child protection and other relevant actors that operate on the ground. The prevalence of Smart Cards within the camps, established through UNHCR’s capacity to engage volunteers on-ground to conduct the registration exercise and maintain an active online database for 1 million refugees and counting, leaves local actors and NGOs with little to no choice in integrating with the UNHCR Smart Card for their own verification processes.
Nevertheless, the classification of Rohingya as Forcibly Displaced Myanmar Nationals (FDMN) under the Bangladeshi regime, and being denied citizenship in their home state, has restricted the purported benefits of the Smart Card to camp life, thereby further exacerbating the looming threat of Rohingya statelessness through such system design.
While the UNHCR is mandated to act in emergency situations, their digital infrastructure is closely integrated with partners within their network, which usually include UN organisations or other legacy humanitarian agencies. On one hand, this restricts local service providers and NGOs from playing a more proactive role in migration management, but additionally, it also reduces the accountability of legacy humanitarian organisations towards the affected population due to the dependency they are able to create through digital infrastructure they deploy for service provision.
This was evident in our interviews with refugees residing in Camp 18, where they indicated the dichotomy in their encounters with UNHCR and the provisions that are enabled through the Smart Card.
“Since UNHCR possesses all our information, there’s concern they might use it during repatriation. They could potentially present our information internationally as evidence. However, we hesitated to inquire about the purpose of the data collection, given their high-ranking positions and our status as refugees which made us feel apprehensive. They also remained silent about it.”
UNHCR’s position as an organisation that has the credibility to provide recognition and rights to the Rohingya to access services within camps creates a top-down power structure between the organisation and the refugee. Even concerns about data sharing and collection are not raised, as there is an aspiration attached to the possibility of such data being collected enabling them to access a better life in other regions.
“But, in general we feel positive about sharing our information to obtain the Smart Card. Given our refugee status, we believe it’s important for the world to be aware of our information, and we don’t harbour negative feelings about sharing it.”
This disincentivises organisations like the UNHCR, and other related agencies with widely scaled networks from adhering to strict accountability measures simply because of the power they wield through essential service provision that is dependent on their infrastructural capacity and strength.
For instance, Smart Cards provide refugees with some agency by granting them the ability to transact with aid organisations such as the WFP for rations, BRAC for health services, UNICEF for child protection and other relevant actors that operate on the ground. The prevalence of Smart Cards within the camps, established through UNHCR’s capacity to engage volunteers on-ground to conduct the registration exercise and maintain an active online database for 1 million refugees and counting, leaves local actors and NGOs with little to no choice in integrating with the UNHCR Smart Card for their own verification processes.
Nevertheless, the classification of Rohingya as Forcibly Displaced Myanmar Nationals (FDMN) under the Bangladeshi regime, and being denied citizenship in their home state, has restricted the purported benefits of the Smart Card to camp life, thereby further exacerbating the looming threat of Rohingya statelessness through such system design.
Way forward and how to reimagine identity in the refugee context
Considering the rise in forcibly displaced populations globally, and the need for identification systems to enable refugees to access basic services through online verification processes, it would be a valuable exercise to develop protocols for design and deployment for identity-centred infrastructure in crisis response situations. In the case of the Rohingya population, identification is required for two main purposes:
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Temporary access to humanitarian aid: A document that verifies the status of the refugee as a new inhabitant in the camps, and provides them temporary access to humanitarian service provision within camps.
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Addressing harms from Rohingya statelessness: A document that validates a person's identity as a persecuted refugee, authorising their right to residence in Rakhine State for repatriation purposes.
The UNHCR Smart Card, developed as an interface for their PRIMES identification system, is highly effective in providing refugees with socio-economic navigability within camps, for essentials like food, shelter, LPG, services such as healthcare, education and protection against gender-based violence and to find employment through opportunities provided by the host community in Bangladesh. However, limitations arise due to the dependency created on the PRIMES system for service provision. Within a humanitarian network of 117 service providers, consisting of multilateral organisations, I/NGOs and other local actors, all their systems must be integrated to cater to identity verification facilitated through a single actor, i.e, the UNHCR in this case.
First, this immediately raises questions about whether adequate safeguards are in place to ensure that refugee data collected by the PRIMES system through multiple sources currently integrated with it, is stored safely. This needs to take into consideration risks that could arise for a targeted population like the Rohingya in case of data breaches by actors with malicious intent. It is unclear whether data protection measures are being adhered to by service providers who are newly integrated into the UNHCR identity system, considering these cannot be scrutinised by the UNHCR technical team. For instance, a local healthcare provider might store digital records of refugees who have accessed the treatment facility, establishing a link between identification and service provided. However, the data subject (the refugee in this case), has minimal control over where this data is shared, or what previously shared data should be made visible to the current service provider.
This raises the need for higher visibility on procedures being followed for data sharing and management between entities. This would entail increased accountability from an organisation like the UNHCR, which is the central touchpoint for all service-related data flows that are currently being conducted in the camps. On-ground capacity-building efforts need to be conducted for NGOs and local actors newly integrating into the UNHCR identification system, with assessments being organised to ensure they meet the necessary standards to uphold a right-preserving approach to data collection, sharing, storage and management. According to UNHCR’s General Policy on Personal Data Protection and Privacy, 2022. [127] “a data protection and privacy impact assessment (DPIA) will specify the anticipated risks and impact of the processing on data subjects, assess the measures for compliance with UNHCR’s data protection and privacy standards, and identify mitigation measures and recommendations which will be considered and acknowledged before determining an appropriate course of action.” However, no documents were found stating the implementation of these processes within the Cox’s Bazar region, when the Smart Card was embedded as the official identification system. Similarly, while certain provisions have been laid out for the data subject under the same policy, there are no on-ground measures to meaningfully convey these data rights to the refugees.
Second, considering UNHCR is mandated [128] to act under the motion adopted by the General Assembly (GA) of the United Nations in 1950 (Resolution 428 (V) of 14 December) for the international protection of refugees and stateless persons, it is important to establish what practices and coordination mechanisms need to be in place when a host country such as Bangladesh, which is not a signatory to the 1951 Refugee Convention or the supplementary 1967 Protocol, is hosting forcibly displaced persons. The Bangladeshi government’s decision to identify Rohingya refugees as Forcibly Displaced Myanmar Nationals (FDMN), puts their refugee status at risk, disallowing them from claiming their rights under the refugee convention. This has downstream consequences on migration management and implementation of systems like identification, as they are compelled to adhere to the policies set by the state. The protests [129] by Rohingya leaders in 2018 were led by a demand that Smart Cards, which identify the refugee community as FDMNs, specify that they are ethnic Rohingya.
If policies are created without prior consideration of refugee needs, in an environment where the UNHCR has limited control and influence over the state’s prerogative to govern according to their interests, digital systems can exacerbate the harms faced by people on the move. Without a policy ecosystem that has provisions for community interests, refugees will remain at risk of exploitation by institutions involved in migration management as they are compelled to act within boundaries set by state activities and policy decisions.
Overarching humanitarian and state digital presence disconnected from the community
As rapid digitalisation ensues in the humanitarian sector, the digital ecosystems within which these technologies operate can benefit from DPI technology and design principles. The following instances explain the advantages of adopting the DPI approach:
Interoperability for coordination and governance: Digital technologies within the humanitarian sector are fragmented, resulting in a lack of coordination in crisis and emergency response (DIGID Consortium 2023). Unified open standards can address this challenge by facilitating the transition from fragmented digital implementation to an open digital transaction network (Mishra, Jain, and Menon 2024). This creates systems and data interoperability, enabling local service providers in a region to participate and access digital technologies more easily.
Similar standard-setting initiatives have been unveiled before. The ‘Global Cash Advisory Group’ (IASC 2022) under the ‘Grand Bargain Cash Coordination Caucus’ is responsible for standard setting and capacity building required to implement cash-based assistance programs.
While these are housed under specific bodies like the IASC, it would be valuable for the G20 forum to provide technical and advisory input into these organisations and mechanisms. This can be achieved through techno-legal mechanisms—supporting the development of standards and principles around interoperability, modularity, data sharing and so on in ways that support GB policy goals, particularly as they relate to the role of technology in enabling transition of humanitarian response from humanitarian organisations to host state services and systems.
Modularity and extensibility for scalability and standardisation: Digital public goods (DPGs) are readily-available open-source solutions that can be inserted to an existing digital stack for added functionalities. The International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) has displayed how DPGs can be used as effective tools to increase coordination in humanitarian response through their integration of the District Health Information Software (DHIS 2) in crisis response (JSI, ICRC, and USAID 2024). ICRC resolved a range of information challenges by using DHIS 2 to standardise data collection across health service providers. This simplified data entry and calculation among stakeholders and enabled data-driven decision making in disease tracking.
The use of existing, readily-available open source solutions in this manner can be highly effective in emergency and crisis response where there is a requirement for a quick turnaround. For example, DPGA’s rigorous evaluation process (i.e. the DPG Standard) establishes inherent trust in the solutions published under their banner.
The Government of Bangladesh and the Strategic Executive Group (SEG) composed of UNHCR, IOM and the UN resident coordinator maintain control over decision-making regarding camp and refugee management. This has resulted in the imposition of digital infrastructure on the Rohingya refugees, often without prior consultation with the community and other local stakeholders. Due to hierarchies and power dynamics created by such top-down structures, refugees are subjected to excessive exposure to digital systems and data collection. This can be observed in decisions regarding the architecture of service provision within camps, and the varying digital interfaces refugees had to be equipped with to access essential services:
"I have been issued three cards: the first one is commonly known as the Gondha Card (Myanmar Nationals’ Registration Card), also called the MOHA Card, and the second is a Smart Card issued by UNHCR. As refugees, individuals like me receive these cards, including the MOHA Card and the Smart Card. Additionally, our family was given a Family Card and a SIM card. The MOHA Card is crucial for receiving significant packages and is essential for obtaining gas. The SIM card is necessary for receiving rations from WFP, gas, and other essential items. The Family Card is also required in conjunction with it."
The governance of camps is controlled by executive bodies, and community involvement was not prioritised when decisions were taken about the implementation of refugee-facing digital systems such as the Smart Card or SIM card. Instances of ad-hoc decision-making have also impacted other aspects of camp life for refugees due to the government’s policy goals that may not necessarily align with the assimilation of refugees and host communities in the region. Rohingya efforts to mobilise and interact with others in the community, and aspirations to restore a living that reflects their cultural identity have been consistently suppressed by government-led actions:
“A friend played a meaningful role in providing education at a Camp-3 school, but an NGO reported them to the Camp-in-Charge (CIC). This led to the school’s demolition, and the teachers being subjected to violence from the police.”
“Only 5% of the Rohingya population is employed, while the remainder relies on ration support due to unemployment. Initially, people had shops in the camp, but the government demolished them all.”
The position of the Government of Bangladesh as a primary stakeholder, along with the SEG that sets the rules and regulations for provisions afforded to refugees residing within camps festers into how personnel deployed to manage the day-to-day operations exercise control through their commanding positions. A management-oriented approach to coordination and service provision within camps has constantly left refugee needs out of the picture, creating bureaucratic hurdles that emphasise the power structures that have inherently favoured the state, humanitarian organisations and NGOs involved in service provision.
For instance, when the mass exodus of Rohingya was taking place in 2017, the Bangladeshi government banned [130] its carriers from selling SIM cards to Rohingya refugees citing security concerns. At the time, Al-Jazeera reported [131] how gatekeeping of communication channels in this manner could have adverse consequences for the Rohingya refugees, with some not being able to communicate with their families in other regions for remittances, leading to further isolation while they seek refuge.
Similarly, the nearest point of contact for Rohingya refugees looking to raise grievances remains the Majhi—a Rohingya leader selected by a government-appointed Camp-in-Charge (CiC) to manage sections of the camps. The CiC controls the Rohingya community through Majhis who work for the CiC office.
“We have a majhi in every block and a head majhi for 19 to 20 blocks in camps. We can't directly approach various stakeholders, including CiC. For instance, in the event that we encounter any sort of issue, we first approach the majhi to discuss it in more detail. After that, we may approach the volunteers of the CiC, who will listen to us, document our issue, and forward it to the CiC. Hence, we must travel with majhi or head majhi in order to share information directly with the CiC.”
Within a stakeholder structure where Majhis have limited control over decisions taken by the CiC, and refugees are restricted from communicating directly to the CiC office, internet shutdowns are detrimental and deprive Rohingya refugees of their basic human rights. [132] Additionally, the structure of governance and decision-making has grave impacts on how digital infrastructure is implemented within the camps. Instances of multiple ID cards being offered then rescinded, communications being gatekept to state and humanitarian actors with minimal consultation with community members and lack of institutional structure for bottom-up feedback on service provision and grievance redressal outline how these bureaucratic practices compound the vulnerabilities of refugees, with minimal attention being paid to their needs as control over logistical requirements remains the main priority.
Way forward and how to think about involving the community
Accountability to Affected Populations (AAP) [133] stands as a critical commitment embraced by humanitarian practitioners and organisations, emphasising ethical conduct, responsibility, and respect towards the com-munities they serve. This approach, in alignment with the Core Humanitarian Standards (CHS), Grand Bargain 2.0 commitments, and the IASC commitment on Accountability to Affected Populations, recognizes the inherent dignity, expertise, and capabilities of those impacted and mandates humanitarian agencies to actively involve and listen to affected community’s perspectives in all stages of programming. In line with this principle, the national Accountability to Affected Populations Working Group (AAP WG) in Bangladesh has emerged as a reinvigorated iteration of the former Communication with Communities Working Group (CwC WG).
The AAP WG in Bangladesh as a platform under the Inter-cluster Coordination Group (ICCG), brings together diverse stakeholders from the humanitarian sector, relevant government entities, NGOs, INGOs, RCRC, UN agencies and relevant networks/platforms. The WG aims to ensure collective accountability and foster robust community engagement across humanitarian response activities in Bangladesh, with the objective to mainstream gender, age, disability and inclusion of other marginalised communities into the AAP system.
However, based on our observation on-ground, there are no institutional structures in place to increase the participation of the community. The CmFP has been set up to specifically address gaps in service provision, with refugees seeing minimal involvement in influencing decisions related to how data collected through digital systems is being governed. To start with, there is room for existing consent mechanisms to be made more accountable through the presence of data stewards, as they can provide further transparency around the entitlements that are available to end-users when they share different data points with any entity. On-ground community volunteers can be trained by multilaterals like the IOM and UNHCR to take up these roles, and act as intermediaries that redirect agency from multilateral organisations to the community.
Similarly, civil society organisations that are being formed by refugees within camps should be allowed to engage with multilaterals to deliberate how they can form data cooperatives or elect people within the community, to interface with multilaterals to advocate for their digital rights and data usage. By closing these gaps through offline intermediation by data stewards, community involvement in data-related decision-making is enhanced to a great extent. On the other hand, this enables multilaterals and aid agencies to have greater access to knowledge about the population’s needs and preferences. This in turn can inform their existing data-driven processes that are critical for effective service provision.
Fragmented development of digital infrastructure affects transparency in design, deployment and implementation
Large-scale multilateral actors such as the WHO, UNHCR, IOM, BRAC, and UNICEF among others have installed digital systems that are equipped with opaque data-sharing structures. For instance, in evaluating the use of the District Health Information Software (DHIS2) for data entry and management of health data by multiple organisations working in the healthcare sector within the Rohingya camps, it is evident that it has eased interactions between multiple data sources across organisations and enhanced the ability of datasets to speak to each other. In partnership with the Government of Bangladesh and UNICEF, WHO has also led the integration of the Early Warning, Alert and Response System (EWARS) [134] with DHIS2, to allow Government health specialists to forecast disease outbreaks by analysing health data generated by multiple organisations working on-ground. However, even though there is wide-scale, systematic usage of DHIS2 within the health sector, agency over data usage and sharing remains with the WHO and other Government organisations who are involved in managing these systems. This defeats the purpose of deploying interoperable systems such as DHIS2, which have proved to be invaluable in disease tracking at population-scale. For instance, Sri Lanka [135] managed to effectively step up disease tracking in their local regions by enabling health service providers across the country to contribute and use aggregated datasets during the COVID-19 pandemic.
The Emergency Telecommunications Sector (ETS) set up by the WFP and its network of 29 partners to uphold digital connectivity amongst humanitarian service providers has acted as a foundational layer for humanitarian digital infrastructure within the camps. Even through multiple instances when the Government of Bangladesh ordered internet shutdowns in the Cox’s Bazar region, the ETS network was available to use for humanitarian organisations. However, the setting up of ETS remains restricted to 29 partners within the WFP network. ETC systems were also developed in collaboration with Cisco and Ericsson, and the growing private-multilateral nexus on data sharing or ‘testing’ of systems that emerges from this remains opaque.
Way forward and how to think about a transformative approach to technology design in emergency and refugee management contexts
Further reflections : Re-imagining Technology in Forced Displacement
Trauma and technological mediation
Inextricable from a refuge-seeking experience of violent and forced displacement is the prevalence of trauma, and repeated trauma. Trauma refers to the physical, emotional or psychological harm caused by a deeply distressing experience or injury. Research [136] on the Rohingya community residing in Bangladesh (as of 2020) indicated 99% of respondents have experienced exposure to gunfire in Myanmar, more than half incurred torture, and more than half were found to present recurring PTSD symptoms. Experience of forced labour, sexual assault, and other extremely distressing events course through the community. Further documented [137] in the case of Rohingya refugees is associations between past trauma and post-displacement stressors (within camps), and the significance of the latter toward negative mental health outcomes. The repeated traumatisation of an already lacerated community and psyche is witnessed - through consistent harassment, deprivation of rights, a lack of safety, and an overarching disembowelment of autonomy and agency.
Rohingya refugees, understood by global actors to be the most persecuted minority in the world, have faced generations of violence and state suppression in their home state of Rakhine in Myanmar - but also continue to face adversity once they have fled to refuge. Undertaking arduous journeys across the border, many do not make it. The 2017 exodus saw bodies consistently wash up on beaches near Cox’s Bazaar. Our time on field collected stories of trudging through mud for days, with no end in sight. For children growing up in camps, a complete absence of cultural or social tether, and families struggling with routine violence and regimented lives. Continued journeys to find fulfilling and stable environments see scores of refugees fleeing camps as well, making dangerous trips in crowded boats to Indonesia, Malaysia and further. It is hard to underestimate the lived impact of trauma, and its repercussions to the social fabric, family systems, collective resilience and individual lives of refugees.
The immense degree of trauma found in refugee populations [138] has been well-documented, and affects long-term, critical aspects of a person’s life. These effects range from physiological disadvantages across neural, biological and cognitive challenges to social and cultural challenges. The impact of continually diminished agency, coupled with a struggle to self-determine identity, social fabrics and aspirations creates a cognitive world that is diminutive in one’s ability to engage, live and thrive freely. In the concerning landscape of technology deployed [139] in displaced populations, the refugee is transformed into a testing ground for efficiency, predictability, and knowability of systems. Overwhelming surveillance, and surveillance technology shapes the lives refugees encounter within camps, and long after.
Research with communities that may experience high rates of trauma has shown that digital technologies can create or exacerbate traumatic experiences. [140] In the case of refugees, for whom a significant facet of PTSD is the fear of refoulement or return to violent circumstances, digital systems have consistently and aggressively validated this fear. Hyper-vigilance, an inability to negotiate with technology in later life, and a pervasive sense of vulnerability have been researched in non-refugee populations as well, and can do indelible damage to the trauma brain. The impact of surveillance tech on mental health and on traumatised psyches has been documented as leading to the exacerbation of pre-existing conditions.
As found in our field and secondary research, in the case of the Rohingya community, there is a pervasive sense of chaos associated with who or which of the many actors on-ground in camps may be handling one's information. Respondents recounted a concerning lack of clarity not only on who holds their data, but how it is used. This lack of trust manifests in cognitive lives that perceive spaces of refuge as ones of datafication and continued persecution at worst, and spaces of continued control at best. The inevitable and mushrooming presence of technology and datafication in the lives of refugee populations will need great intervention to ensure more than digital rights - instead, mandating trauma-informed approaches. This need is particularly pertinent for consideration in the humanitarian sector, to ensure that the sector's efforts to better manage logistics and delivery do not result in the further victimisation of already vulnerable populations.
In order to build for a digital ecosystem that holds in tow the lived realities and often traumatic realities of crisis displacement, tenets of collective rehabilitation, transparency, trust and preservation - explicated below. Emerging scholarship on trauma-informed computing [141] and technological design detail the role of intra-community solidarity as a crucial pillar in sensitive design. Creating avenues for not only individual agency, but collective conceptions of participation in decision making can foster a greater degree of trust in systems and also serve to repair fraught links in community resilience. While frameworks for trauma-informed technology are yet emerging, learnings from other sectors such as digital healthcare [142] carry weight if we are to work toward a coherent pathway to acknowledging and committing into design, the trauma held within refugee communities.
Consent mechanisms must also be reimagined as more than a gating criteria for the collection and use of individual and community data. Instead, it is important for actors on ground and consequently, the design of technologies they rely on, to frame consent as the first ‘outstretched digital hand’, shaping an individual’s, a family’s, a group’s first act of trust. This must be experientially and functionally a trust-building process, working to create a relationship of clarity and transparency between the data requester and principal - one that is reflective of a duty of care. Community or collective consent mechanisms can also reduce the burden of participation on individuals, but only serve to build trust across a group if they are conceptualised with consistent, visible and direct inputs from community members. Unidirectional data flows hold steep power dynamics, and must be articulated and then implemented as data used toward a common purpose, purpose that is defined in unison with refugee communities.
Data-related actions and technological mediation that follows must prioritise the long-term resilience and cross-generational repair of communities; offering avenues for more than ad-hoc services, but fostering a degree of connection with the spaces, stakeholders and systems that refugees come in contact with. In order to do so, data use and reuse policy and scaffolding around it must first uphold protection and preservation of community needs, preferences and ideals. Recognition, reciprocity and reflexive engagement [143] can be systematised into design, upholding social justice as a basis for digital interactions. Social licensing, [144] for example, can be envisioned as a means to embed meaningful value-compatibility of data practices with subjective and culturally specific moral conceptions of a community.
Finally, an important facet of this preservation is to create significant avenues for cultural preservation and remembrance of generational and traditional ways of knowing within a community. Loss must be conceptualised as no longer a mere outcome of displacement, but its defining factor. The absence of many of these crucial elements, coupled with an overt data maximalism is swiftly proving to be a recipe for retraumatization, further disillusionment and lifelong loss of trust in inhabiting a necessarily digital world. ‘Do No Harm’ tenets require a reimagining of harm - one that can be digitally delivered, but also one that digital systems can serve to hold delicately.
Technology design and dissonance with crisis
An overarching issue in the design of technology for crisis situations, particularly for displacement, is the fragmented nature of build and deployment. Currently, stakeholders that operate in crisis management, ranging from state, multilateral, humanitarian and private actors to civil society, non-state and community-led initiatives, do not operate on a set of established standards for technology design and implementation. Digital identification is now acting as the first building block, forming the bedrock upon which other digital systems for service delivery are being constructed. Identification, as discussed previously, carries the weight of social contracts with a state actor, and the very legitimacy and dignity of a life, a group and body politic within it.
Due to mandates that require them to be first-movers in conflict and emergency, digital identity has traditionally been under the control of state and multilateral actors. The UN network, other legacy humanitarian actors that are closely associated with them, and private sector actors involved in developing these technologies are familiar with how to operationalise digital identity and activate digitally-mediated service provision at population scale, often acting as the custodians for these systems during crisis management.
The severe lack of public accountability regarding technological design, data management and adherence to rights-preserving governance standards remains a grave concern, especially within a digital ecosystem that is catered to serve affected populations. Important questions arise about how data that is collected through large-scale digital infrastructure that is managed by the state, the multilateral-private sector nexus, or humanitarian agencies is flowing between entities, and whether data principals (members of the affected population) remain in the know, and have agency to negotiate for autonomy over who has access to their data.
Within an ecosystem that does not create adequate provisions for participation from local actors, non-state actors, civil society organisations and community-led initiatives, digital infrastructure tends to be designed to meet the needs of the service provider, leaving the affected population outside the boundaries of technology design, development and deployment. This has been observed [145] as the reframing of refugees as customers, and humanitarian agencies as providers of market-based solutions, focused heavily on logistical procedures and process efficiencies, but failing to meet the basic requirement for protection of affected populations in the digital realm.
The political economy within which humanitarian service provision is partly to blame for this growing dissonance between service provision and refugee needs. Currently, the sector operates like a competitive marketplace, in which aid organisations must compete for funds provided by humanitarian donors. Humanitarian service providers holding beneficiary data are able to deliver services faster with more accuracy, and are incentivised to hoard data to more effectively compete in the humanitarian marketplace. In such a scenario, building systems that focus on providing refugees with agency to negotiate with where their data is used is challenging to implement.
The humanitarian sector has also long suffered from a growing focus (and consequently, funding) toward logistics and supply chain as the bastion of humanitarian aid delivery. While logistics remain essential to a network of aid delivery, many have argued that this hyperfocus has resulted in years of funding and resources redirected to tranches of aid that deal with supply chains, private partnerships and logistics, in direct detriment to the actual efficacy, delivery and meaningfulness of aid. As described above, the growth of technology and digital mediation in the sector has been fraught with not dissimilar, but distinct issues. The esotericization of technology marks a staggering departure from reliance on local actors, local contexts and community involvement in the imagination of crisis management.
Instead, what is needed is a move toward serving longer term resilience and self determination of communities. The reality of many displaced populations is a state of limbo, considered a crisis in its management but playing out as longer term, often generational, stays in camp or quasi-camp scenarios. Crisis, or conflict-related crisis displacement is hard to see as an exception but now the proliferation globally of subjugated and discriminated communities that have a history of being ‘othered, and an ensuing industry of itself’. In this context, self determination, and the ability to receive legitimacy through social contracts is crucial. This can and must be facilitated through online and offline inroads for local contexts to inform the design of technology, mediation and technological mediation. As discussed in previous chapters, the learnability and interoperability of systems can sustain consistent global commitments to rebuilding and repairing the effects of crisis. While there is no one universalist fix, there is room yet to design digital infrastructure to sojourn with cultural contexts and needs. Learnability through systems and their deployment must be an active and longitudinal process - across crises over years and across cultural variation over regions.
Concluding Note
Humanitarian crisis response is a complex and laden landscape, and requires deep inquiry into the prevailing nexus between logistics, private sector providers, state actors, and multilateral modes of management. This work has sought to investigate the birth of technology and datafication into an already fraught system. Further scholarship must delve closely into what this layer inherits from pre-existing management systems in crises, what it enhances in its own design and deployment, and perhaps most crucially; what it passes on unto the communities it hopes to serve. While this authorship has outlined a few areas that can act as a possible salve, in some cases to the design and effectiveness of technological systems, and in some cases to the unimaginable trauma to communities themselves - this is by no means a complete conception of resolution.
Migration and conflict are both staggering realities globally today, and a principal focus on rights-preserving and justice oriented views requires us to shift how crisis is understood: not as happenstance or anomalistic, but as pivotal infusion in shaping our societies. The emergent normative limitation of crises to logistical and aid-related conceptions diminishes the necessarily political and social wounds incurred by displaced communities. While this is not the remit of one stakeholder group alone, it is certainly an inflexion point in how we may think about technology design, and what it can repair or impede. Ultimately, there is a need for unified agendas for crisis tech and its governance, one that prioritises people and their experiences, learns from its own fissures, and carries pivotal understandings of traumatised communities and their avenues for transformation into technology design. We hope to invite discourse and research through this work.
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Endnotes
Context Setting
Tracking the origins of the Rohingya crisis
Ever since Myanmar (formerly Burma) received independence from British Rule in 1948, successive governments have challenged the Rohingya’s historical claims [28] to Rakhine State—a western state in Myanmar where they initially accounted for nearly a third of the population. In the first decade post-independence, the Burmese government recognised all members of its diverse population as citizens [29], but extreme nationalism based on religion and ethnicity took hold when military rule was established in 1962. The Rohingya were subjected to state-backed oppression, primarily due to their being considered illegal immigrants from Bangladesh [30]. Policies that protected the ethnic majority in Myanmar, the Buddhist Bamar, and restricted the rights of minority communities were implemented [31], legitimising discrimination and violence.
The Rohingya first fled to Bangladesh in 1978, when Burmese authorities launched Operation Naga Min, (or “Dragon King”) [32] to register and verify the status of citizens and people viewed as “foreigners”. During this exercise, Rohingyas’ national ID cards were confiscated, [33] and their homes and property throughout Rakhine State were destroyed. Soldiers assaulted and terrorised Rohingya to the point where about 200,000 of them were forced to flee and set up refugee camps in Cox’s Bazar, a town on the southeast coast of Bangladesh. This marked the first major instance of forced, cross-border migration of the Rohingya community between the two South Asian nations.
Myanmar’s state-backed persecution of the Rohingya population continued in subsequent years. A citizenship law passed in 1982 [34], denied Rohingyas recognition as one of the country’s 135 official ethnic groups. In 1991, when Operation Pyi Thaya, (or “Clean and Beautiful Nation”) [35] was launched in response to citizens across Myanmar demanding democratic reforms, soldiers executed, raped, and assaulted Rohingya. [36] During this period, roughly 250,000 Rohingya were forced out of their homes, leaving them to seek protection in the previously established refugee camps in Kutupalong and Nayapara within Cox’s Bazar. However, after 1992, Bangladesh stopped officially recognising new arrivals as refugees [37], leading many Rohingya to create makeshift camps around the existing ones.
Outlining the historical use of state apparatus to disenfranchise the Rohingya population
The Burmese state’s treatment of Rohingya Muslims since indepedence highlights the role of state machinery [38] in creating a dichotomy between groups that share differing identities. State identification systems served as a means to exercise authority over minority, ethnic groups such as the Rohingya Muslims, acting as an instrument of control to suppress their rights to socially integrate [39] into the mainstream Burmese community. These instances spotlight how state apparatus can be manipulated over time to further the gradual erasure of a group’s identity, and right to be protected as a member of their sovereign state.
Diminution of Rohingya identity through state institutions
In 1984, amidst military rule and the advent of citizenship laws that were now based on ethnicity, efforts were made to delegitimise the Rohingya as an ethnic minority [40], with identity documentation labelling them as “Islam”. These efforts highlighted the intent of the state to strip Rohingya off their ethnic identity, as a means to negate their rights to citizenship. In 1989, the Burmese government issued new “Citizenship Scrutiny Cards”, but the Rohingya never received them. Later, in 1995, Rohingya were given temporary identification cards, known as “White Cards”, offering them limited rights. However, these came with clear indications that suggested they were not a proof of citizenship, and registration lists had now started to identify Rohingya as “Bengali”—intending to suggest they were immigrants without any rights over their land and property in Rakhine State. In 2014, a national census initially allowed Rohingya to identify as such, but after threats from Buddhist nationalists, they were relegated to identifying as “Bengali” again. In 2015, under nationalist pressure, the government revoked “White Cards” [41], stripping Rohingya of their voting rights in Myanmar. In return, the Rohingya were issued National Verification Cards (NVC), which labelled them as foreigners and did not grant them citizenship rights, widening the growing rift between the state and the Rohingya population.
These instances, and the trajectory they shape, point to origins of a genocide that were primarily enabled through state apparatus and identification systems. Public institutions and systems have the potential to exacerbate social inequalities and deepen divisions among various segments of a population when they are implemented by an oppressive regime. By forcing the Rohingya to confront and negotiate with discriminatory public systems that failed to grant them adequate legal provisions and citizenship rights for self-determination, their association with the state was consistently challenged. State power was used to target the population, and ‘other’ the Rohingya community from other social groups in Burma.
In the case of the Rohingya, identification systems were first used to signal a dichotomisation [42] between minority ethnic communities and the rest of the Burmese community. Over time, the state was able to create narratives through identification and other institutional means to dehumanise [43] the Rohingya Muslim population, by first attempting to break their association with their ethnicity and labelling them as ‘Islam’, followed by their categorisation as ‘Bengali’ to indicate they are false claimants of the land and other legal protection that was currently being offered to them by the Burmese state.
The arms of the state extending into the digital realm
In the past, the weaponisation of state architecture to gradually strip the rights of the Rohingya population were enacted through paper-based identification systems. These instances spotlight the significance of identity and documentation as a means to establish a social contract, enabling effective participation within social and economic spheres of a nation-state. In the case of Myanmar, a combination of state identification exercises and law enforcement was used since the start of the military rule in 1962 to diminish the rights of the Rohingya community.
Today, the Rohingya population has been rendered stateless with the diaspora being largely divided across camps in Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh, regions like Malaysia [44], Indonesia [45], and about 600,000 [46] still living in Rakhine State. In the aftermath of the 2021 military coup, civil conflict has intensified, and the military has weaponised the identification system for use against members of the political opposition and other minority communities. This, combined with checkpoints and surveillance, has restricted movement, making it difficult for targeted communities to reclaim rights over land and property.
The growing prevalence of digital technologies within state infrastructure points us towards impending threats of Myanmar increasing state control [47], that can further enable discriminatory practices and strip the agency of unprotected, displaced communities like the Rohingya that are making efforts to repatriate to Rakhine State. However, due to inefficiencies in public infrastructure provision in Myanmar, many opposition members still evade military surveillance. Aware of this, the military has been involved in testing biometrics on displaced people, the stateless, and opposition members [48]. These instances highlight how digital tools in the wrong hands, could increase state power and magnify disenfranchisement of minorities.
On the other hand, within camps in Bangladesh, the UNHCR identification and verification [49] processes now provide roughly 1 million Rohingya refugees with digitally mediated, centralised access to essentials such as food, shelter, education, health and child protection services in the largest refugee camp in the world.
These instances indicate how the long-drawn crisis of the Rohingya refugees is now witnessing the growing influence of digitalisation—the community now remains at the mercy of a digital identity that is offered by state actors and multilateral agencies like the UNHCR. This calls for a need to investigate how the shifting paradigms of identification for the Rohingya, from paper-based systems to digital instruments offered by multiple stakeholders are affecting the community. In the past, identity and data (as information) has been the stronghold of power, surveillance and oppression for the Burmese state, but there is an emerging requirement to assess whether these are carried over into the digital realm with the penetration of newer technological infrastructures that are being constructed over digital identity as the first building block.
Having established the origins of the Rohingya crisis and tracing the role of state apparatus in facilitating the oppression of the community, this study will focus on tracking the role of digital technologies and stakeholders involved in technology deployment to examine whether the historical othering of the community is further perpetrated through current digital identification systems, and how to think about ensuring technological developments are complemented by adequate safeguards to protect the community from further harms through digital instruments.
The mass exodus of 2017 and the evolution of the ‘digital passage’
This section tracks the impact of technology and digital mediation with events that led to the largest recorded movement of Rohingya from Rakhine to Cox’s Bazar, the aftermath of the crisis, interactions with varied stakeholders in their treacherous journey, their settlement within refugee camps, integration with host communities in Bangladesh, the long-awaited repatriation to Myanmar, and ongoing attempts to preserve their cultural ties to their homeland.
After a group of Rohingya men, later known as the Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army (ARSA) [50] attacked the Myanmar border police, the military launched a crackdown on the Rohingya, forcing about 87,000 to flee to nearby countries like Bangladesh, Thailand, and Malaysia.

Credit: Reuters
The ARSA mobilised again in response to tightening restrictions and systematic discrimination from the military, leading to clashes with police and army posts in Rakhine. The government labelled ARSA a terrorist group, claiming they were an imminent threat to national security [57]. Between August 25 and September 24, 2017, the military's brutal response destroyed hundreds of Rohingya villages and displaced nearly 700,000 people [58]. At least 6,700 Rohingya were killed [59], and Myanmar's security forces allegedly fired on fleeing civilians and planted landmines near border crossings. In September 2017, the UNHCR described the military operation as a 'textbook example of ethnic cleansing.'

Credit: Paula Bronstein
Even though Bangladesh is not a signatory to the 1951 Refugee Convention or the 1967 protocol, the government announced shelter and humanitarian support for the Rohingya in the aftermath of the crisis.

Credit: Reuters
The RRRC launched a family counting exercise, with the support of UNHCR. A joint team of over 100 was staffed to collect information on newly arrived refugee families and issue them a card with a unique identifier number delivered by Bangladeshi authorities. The objective of the exercise was to identify vulnerabilities and specific needs among the refugee population and to harmonise assistance. It served as a useful baseline data for site planning, for instance on density per location. The RRRC and UNHCR planned to count all new arrivals in the Cox's Bazar district.

Credit: UNHCR
October 2021

Credit: AP Photo
As of today, the origins of ARSA are unclear, with their group leader insisting they are not terrorists [51] and claiming they mobilised to fight on behalf of Rohingya living in virtual detention in the western coastal state of Rakhine at the time. However, members of the Rohingya community highlight the violent and extremist nature of ARSA, coercing young men and boys to join the group [52] . Recent academic scholarship also labels the group as a Muslim militant organisation [53], with the Bangladesh government proactively taking measures [54] against the group to safeguard from violence within refugee camps.
After the attacks in 2016, the military’s retaliation was fuelled by online campaigns run by state actors, to malign the image of the Rohingya population, and create a perception of them being a threat to national security. A report by Amnesty International [55] pinpoints the failure of Meta in moderating hateful content, and their continuation of using algorithms that had been flagged since 2012 for their capability to promote extremism online:
On 26 November 2016, while military operations were still ongoing in northern Rakhine State, state media published an opinion piece that described the Rohingya as “extremists, terrorists, ultra-opportunists and aggressive criminals” as “human fleas” who are “loathed for their stench and for sucking our blood”. After the 25 August 2017 attacks, the State Counsellor’s official Facebook page regularly posted graphic photographs of Hindus, ethnic Mro and Rakhine villagers allegedly killed by “extremist Bengali terrorists”, using a common slur (“Bengali”) for the Rohingya which seeks to portray them as migrants from Bangladesh. (Pg 14)[56]
- Amnesity International
The ethnic cleansing of the Rohingya involved a systematic campaign by Myanmar security forces, who unlawfully killed thousands, including children; raped hundreds of women and girls; tortured men and boys; starved communities by burning markets and blocking farmland access; and deliberately burned hundreds of villages. (Pg 15) [60]
Our primary research highlighted the atrocities faced by Rohingya during their journey from Myanmar to Bangladesh:
“On our journey, we had to cross a barbed-wire fence. Despite the security guards firing guns, the shots luckily did not hit us. It appeared that they were firing to cause chaos rather than targeting individuals. After crossing the border, we crawled through an isthmus and boarded a canoe to reach Bangladesh [61].”
“Many who arrived in Bangladesh after escaping the crackdown in Myanmar had gunshot wounds. They had to immediately receive treatment after crossing the border [62].”
“If we were spotted during our movement, it would lead to gunshots being fired by the military. Due to my mother’s lack of strength, we had to carry her slowly and carefully. With no car available, we had to walk, carrying her on our shoulders. After crossing Nolboinna, the military surrounded the village and opened gunfire. We sought refuge in a prawn pond to hide. Upon crossing Kunkara Para to Chyra Para, we heard gunshots from the military echoing everywhere. We waited for 3 days in Chyra Para since we couldn’t book a boat in advance. With only two boats available and a high demand for transportation, the process took time [63].
- Amnesity International

In the lead-up to the mass exodus of 2017, the use of Facebook in spreading misinformation to incite systematic violence against the Rohingya is well-documented:
A number of UN bodies, NGOs, and media organisations have documented some of the vast quantity of anti-Rohingya content, including content amounting to incitement to violence, discrimination, and genocide, which circulated on Facebook in advance of and during the 2017 atrocities. In the months and years leading up to August 2017, content that spread dehumanizing, hateful and discriminatory views towards the Rohingya – oftentimes portraying genocidal intent – was rife on the Facebook platform throughout Myanmar.” (Pg 26) [64]
Our interviews with Rohingya refugees highlight how phone and internet access was weaponised by the government and security forces during their journey to Bangladesh:
Credit: Reuters
“Everyone with a phone in my village was in a social media group to share information about the difficulties faced, to ensure safety and security on our journey. When anyone faced any problems on the way, we shared it in the group. Updates and information in the group included the route we should take so that there would be no danger and it was really helpful for us to communicate and disseminate information to others.”
“However, at that time, mobile phones were not readily available to everyone in Myanmar. We could use an MPT (Myanmar Posts and Telecommunications) SIM card, but the government intentionally slowed down the network during the incident. Occasionally, we could find network connections in places near police checkpoints. Upon reaching the river, military personnel and Buddhist individuals would demand money, phones, and other valuable items from the arriving individuals [65].”
During the journey, digital platforms remained critical nodes in relaying information across geographical and mobility constraints, but these instances offer minimal options for those on the move from choosing a platform of their choice. Instead, they are forced to rely on digital applications or devices that are widely used, even if it is at the risk of scrutinisation from the state and related actors with vested interests in surveilling movement:
“I didn’t have balance on my SIM but I had some internet data, which I could use to connect with friends and villagers. I used Whatsapp, WeChat, and IMO to tell villagers who were left behind where to come and which way to use. Our villagers communicated using these applications to help each other throughout the journey [66].”
“I had a mobile phone that I used with a Burmese SIM card. However, during that difficult period, I had no balance on the SIM, so I could only receive calls when people contacted me. I used the internet to communicate about people's movements and discuss the possibility of finding safe routes. However, I didn’t have much knowledge about maps at that time. Fortunately, I was familiar with the routes as I had commuted across the border to receive treatment in Bangladesh a few times before the violence [67] .”
The response to the refugee crisis is coordinated by the Government of Bangladesh, through the Refugee Relief and Repatriation Commission (RRRC) [69] , and by the Humanitarian Stakeholders under the oversight of the International Organization for Migration (IOM) and the UN High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR), through the Inter Sector Coordination Group (ISCG).
Based on our interviews with Rohingya refugees residing in the camps at Cox’s Bazar, it is clear there was prior knowledge among the Rohingya community about refugee camps that were set up in the Kutapalong and Nayapara regions during the initial influx in the region during the mass movements in 1978 and 1991. The Office of the Refugee Relief and Repatriation Commissioner was established in 1992, and UNHCR has consistently supported relief efforts in the region. A report submitted by UNHCR in the 47th session of the UN General Assembly [70] on 28 August 1992 states the following:
By the end of March 1992, the registered refugee population reached 190,000. Attempts to resolve this problem on a bilateral basis were unsuccessful, and in mid-February 1992, the Government of Bangladesh sought the intervention of the Secretary-General and the High Commissioner. The High Commissioner issued an appeal in March 1992 for $27.4 million to cover the estimated needs of 150,000 refugees throughout 1992. The UNHCR Office at Dhaka has been strengthened, a sub-office opened in Cox's Bazar, and funds were released from the High Commissioner's Emergency Fund to meet immediate care and maintenance programme requirements. In the initial phase of emergency assistance, WFP, UNICEF, WHO and local as well as international non-governmental organizations were mobilized to assist the Government of Bangladesh. The provision of assistance has been hampered by a shortage of land rendering it possible to provide adequate shelter for only 54 per cent of the population by 31 March 1992.”
However, the scale of forced displacement in 2017 was unanticipated and Rohingya who arrived to seek refuge in Cox’s Bazar mentioned the lack of resources and facilities available to settle in the region. In multiple instances, refugees highlighted how staying connected over the phone with their relatives proved to be crucial in accessing critical information about where to set up camp:

Credit: welthungerhilfe
I first went to Tenghali camp to look for a space, but there wasn’t anyone from our village. Then I went to Balukhali, where I found people from our village. So, I decided to get a space and build my tent there. I had to buy some black tarpaulins and bamboo to build the tent, as there was no NGO support there at that time. Therefore, my family was staying at a temporarily built, small tent before NGO support came in. [71]”
“Upon arriving in Bangladesh, we reached out to our relatives staying in registered camps using button phones, since we did not have access to the internet or smartphones. Upon contacting them, they instructed us to meet at a specific bridge, where they warmly received us. We stayed at their house for a few days, but due to the large number of people already residing there, we couldn’t extend our stay. [72]”
“Since everyone was heading towards Cox's Bazar, we followed suit. We met our family at Anjuma. My brother-in-law resides in Musoni Registered Camp. After hearing about us, he arrived there to receive us. We came with him to Musoni by hiring two CNGs (three wheeled taxis) for our family. We stayed in Musoni until September 25th. Later, a friend employed at MSF Kutupalong (Médecins Sans Frontières, also known as Doctors Without Borders) contacted me through my friend's mobile, knowing that I worked at MSF in Myanmar. He called me to MSF Kutupalong for a job opportunity. I asked him whether I should come alone or with my family, and he instructed me to come with my family. That's how I reached here. [73]”
Over the next month, in response to the crisis, UNHCR provided support by airlifting over 1,500 metric tons of emergency aid to Bangladesh, including essential items like blankets, plastic sheets, sleeping mats, family tents, plastic rolls, kitchen sets, jerry cans, and buckets. They assisted the Bangladeshi government in developing new refugee sites by funding infrastructure such as roads, supporting site planning, building latrines and wells, improving water and sanitation facilities, and distributing shelter materials. They were involved in the construction of thousands of latrines and water points to improve sanitation and access to drinkable water, reducing health risks like acute watery diarrhoea. Efforts also included mainstreaming refugee protection by developing a referral system and safe spaces for survivors of gender-based violence, and identifying and referring children at risk for appropriate support. [74]
The role of multilateral agencies and NGOs in humanitarian aid and assistance was acknowledged by interviewees during our primary research:
Some humanitarians found us in Teknaf and brought us directly to an open field where they provided us with meals and water. From that field, we came to the place where we are staying now. There were bushes here at that time. We cleaned the bushes and levelled the ground to build our shelters.
The humanitarians who brought us here from Teknaf told us they would provide bamboos and tarpaulins, and we would have to clean bushes and build our shelters here on our own. I knew that I could build my shelter in this space as others were cutting bushes for their shelters. [75]”
"Volunteers visited door-to-door and asked us to go to the registration centre for the family card. The registration centre was in camp-17. When we went there for the family card, the smart cards were granted to us along with it. The volunteers who informed us about the family card's issuance, had also mentioned the smart cards. They said that we would get both cards together.
During registration, the officer asked us whether we had any documents of Myanmar. I said that we couldn't bring any of our documents with us. I was asked to say my name, age, number of household members, village's name and township's name.
The officer was using a computer. When he put my details in it, he got all other details by himself through the online system. Everything was already on the computer.
I think WFP's officers collected the information from us so that they have our population recorded in order to provide us with food assistance. [76]
The purpose of issuing the family card and smart card was to give us access to humanitarian services. We were also told that we can't access any services if we didn’t have the cards."
On 26 November 2016, while military operations were still ongoing in northern Rakhine State, state media published an opinion piece that described the Rohingya as “extremists, terrorists, ultra-opportunists and aggressive criminals” as “human fleas” who are “loathed for their stench and for sucking our blood”. After the 25 August 2017 attacks, the State Counsellor’s official Facebook page regularly posted graphic photographs of Hindus, ethnic Mro and Rakhine villagers allegedly killed by “extremist Bengali terrorists”, using a common slur (“Bengali”) for the Rohingya which seeks to portray them as migrants from Bangladesh. (Pg 14)[80]
- Amnesity International
The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) and the Bangladesh government began issuing “Smart Cards" [77] to Rohingya refugees. The cards are intended to “provide a secure identity documentation for refugees,” according to UNHCR, and to “establish a more efficient system for refugees to access services and assistance.” The cards affirm in writing that the Bangladesh government will not force returns to Myanmar. However, Rohingya in Bangladesh told Fortify Rights they fear the biometric data may be used to support returns to Myanmar.
Smart Cards are meant for Rohingya refugees above the age of 12. The card replaces two existing cards that most refugees in Bangladesh already possess: a white Ministry of Home Affairs registration card and a yellow Refugee Relief and Repatriation Commissioner family counting card.
The Bangladesh Telecommunications Regulatory Commission (BTRC) ordered the country’s major mobile operators to essentially cease provision of 3G and 4G mobile Internet service in the area containing the Rohingya camps, citing security concerns and claims that mobile access was helping to fuel a rampant illegal drug trade and allegations that refugees were gaining network access via black market SIM cards – SIM cards purchase being restricted to Bangladeshi citizens with national identity cards.
The Government of Bangladesh and UNHCR (on behalf of the UN agencies) signed an MoU that established a common policy framework based on protection and humanitarian principles for ongoing and future efforts on Bhasan Char. The MoU affirmed a joint commitment to ensure that Rohingya sheltered on Bhasan Char have access to services including protection, shelter, food and nutrition, water, sanitation and hygiene, health, education in the Myanmar curriculum in the Myanmar language, as well as the ability to engage in livelihoods, capacity building activities, and skills development commensurate with opportunities available in Rakhine State in Myanmar. By the end of December 2022, the Government of Bangladesh had facilitated the voluntary relocation of around 30,000 Rohingya refugees to Bhasan Char. [81]