On the morning of March 28, 2026, some 13 Bangladeshi fishermen left Shah Porir Dwip in Teknaf before dawn, as generations before them had done, to pull nets from the Naf River. By around 7:00am, armed men purportedly from the ethnic rebel group Arakan Army arrived on speedboats, seized their boats at gunpoint, and took them into Myanmar. This was not an isolated incident; if anything, it was the 300th verse of the same grim song.
Since December 8, 2024, when the Arakan Army seized Maungdaw and took control of the Myanmar side of the border, at least 399 fishermen have been “abducted” from the Naf River and the Bay of Bengal, according to a New Age report citing data from the Border Guard Bangladesh. As of mid-May, some 165 of them remain in rebel custody. Some have been held for over a year, with many families still unsure whether their relatives are alive. This has, by all accounts, become a hostage crisis for us.
The Naf River is a narrow, tidal waterway forming a natural border between Bangladesh’s Cox’s Bazar district and Myanmar’s Rakhine State. It is not just a border, however; it is also a source of livelihood. For tens of thousands of fishing families in Teknaf and Ukhiya, the Naf and the adjacent Bay of Bengal are their only source of income. But the river is treacherous. Sandbars on Bangladesh’s side of the border have reduced water depth, pushing fishermen towards deeper Myanmar waters in search of fish. There are no floating buoys or clear markers to show where Bangladesh ends and Rakhine begins. Tides also drift nets far from where they are cast. A man chasing his catch in a wooden boat at night is not a geopolitical actor; he is simply trying to feed his family. Despite knowing that, the Arakan Army has often sought to weaponise this vulnerability.
The Arakan Army presents itself as a national liberation movement for the Rakhine people, a formidable armed force locked in struggle against the military junta that seized power in Myanmar’s 2021 coup. In many respects, its military record is remarkable. It has captured vast swathes of Rakhine State, including Maungdaw, the border township that was once the epicentre of the Rohingya genocide, and by early 2025, established control over virtually the entire Myanmar side of the border.
But like before, military prowess again brings out darker realities. Since seizing Maungdaw, the Arakan Army has systematically detained Bangladeshi and Rohingya fishermen, holding them in squalid camps—described by one freed captive as “dark like a grave,” with no fan, no light, and mosquitoes everywhere—and using their suffering as leverage. In most cases, families are contacted via Bangladeshi SIM cards, sent photos and videos of detained relatives in distress, and told to pay ransoms of Tk 1-1.5 lakh per person through mobile financial services.
In February, before releasing 73 fishermen, the group made them sign written pledges and swear on the Quran never to enter “Arakan territory” again. A non-state armed group, unrecognised by any nation, with no standing under international law, extracting confessions and oaths from impoverished fishermen from another country as a condition of their freedom. Let that sink in.
The Arakan Army’s claim that it is enforcing maritime boundaries does not hold under international law. As a non-state actor, it has no recognised sovereign authority over maritime territory. Moreover, what it has often done in the name of border enforcement basically meant taking hostages. And under Article 8 of the Rome Statute and the 1979 Hostages Convention, hostage-taking and ransom demands in armed conflict are war crimes.
The crisis along the border cannot be separated from its longer history of suffering. In 2017, more than 700,000 Rohingyas fled genocide into Bangladesh, forming the world’s largest refugee camp in Cox’s Bazar. Today, that history has come full circle for many: many of the detained fishermen are Rohingya refugees from those same camps, held by an armed group controlling the very area they had once fled. Stateless in origin and displaced once again, they remain trapped in a cycle of vulnerability that follows them wherever they go.
Meanwhile, Myanmar’s Border Guard Police no longer operate along this stretch. The Arakan Army has effectively replaced a failing state with an unrecognised authority, leaving Bangladesh without a formal interlocutor, treaty mechanism, or diplomatic channel. Bangladesh’s foreign ministry has acknowledged this constraint. The Myanmar Wing’s director general noted that there is no scope for formal relations with the Arakan Army and that official communication is not possible. While “informal engagement” has led to the return of 234 fishermen since December 8, 2024, many others remain in custody.
Here is the uncomfortable truth that must be stated plainly: Bangladesh has been too passive or deferential in confronting the ongoing “abduction” of its citizens. There are still no floating buoys marking the maritime boundary despite repeated demands from fishermen. Nor has there been meaningful formal escalation at the UN Security Council, the International Court of Justice, or through ASEAN mechanisms, even as the Arakan Army’s actions raise serious concerns under international humanitarian law.
Bangladesh does face real diplomatic constraints, and its tightrope is genuine—direct engagement with the Arakan Army could inflame the junta and complicate Rohingya repatriation talks. Dhaka’s caution is therefore not without reason. But caution cannot become inertia. A state that cannot protect its own fishermen faces a legitimacy question that bureaucratic restraint cannot fully answer.
What is instead needed is calibrated, urgent action on several fronts simultaneously. The most immediate step is also the simplest: Bangladesh must install sufficient floating buoys along the Naf River and the coastal boundary with Myanmar. This costs relatively little, and there is no defensible reason it has not happened yet. Beyond the waterline, Dhaka must internationalise this crisis, formally raising it at the UN Human Rights Council, briefing ASEAN member states including Thailand and India, both of which maintain informal contact with the Arakan Army, and pushing for a statement from the UN Secretary-General.
The Arakan Army is a de facto governing authority across vast territory, and Dhaka’s refusal to acknowledge that reality through forming a functional, structured communication channel only leaves it without leverage. A formalised back-channel—perhaps through the International Committee of the Red Cross as a neutral third-party mediator—specifically dedicated to the release of detained fishermen and the return of seized vessels, would be a pragmatic step that would not require formal recognition of the group.
Simultaneously, Dhaka should also consider referring the Arakan Army’s ransom operations to the UN Special Adviser on the Prevention of Genocide and request that the ICC Prosecutor’s Office examine the pattern of conduct. Naming these acts as war crimes in international forums changes the political cost calculus for the Arakan Army as it seeks legitimacy on the world stage.
Finally, the fishing communities bearing the human cost of this crisis must be supported through compensation for detained fishermen’s families, subsidised boat insurance, and direct cash assistance. This is a basic obligation of the state towards citizens it has failed to protect.
Jannatul Naym Pieal is a writer, researcher, and journalist. He can be reached at [email protected]
Views expressed in this article are the author's own.
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