Marginalized and Misunderstood: How Anti‑Rohingya Language… 297 that the erasure of Rohingya in Myanmar has taken two forms: “lawfare” (the abuse of laws to achieve strategic military or political ends) and “spacio-cide” (systematic dispossession and destruction of living space) (see pp. 87, 90). Lawfare tactics aimed at transforming Rohingya into stateless persons without rights were achieved years ago, while spacio-cide tactics to destroy Rohingya property and their ability to return home are nearing completion (pp. 95). As satellite imagery shows, for instance, Rohingya homes were demolished and quickly replaced by new homes occupied primarily by Buddhist citizens. “Erasure entails the removal of all traces of something, with obliteration as its most extreme form,” writes MacLean (2019). “But erasure is never fully complete…Practices of erasure always leave discernable traces, if only in the form of an absence…” (pp. 84). Media in both Myanmar and Bangladesh foment anti-Rohingya sentiments and discrimination, often fueling public support for human rights abuses against the minority group. While the Rohingya language was once broadcast by the Burma Broadcasting Service’s radio service, that situation changed “considerably” following the 1962 coup (Lee 2019, pp. 3206). Official Myanmar media such as the Global New Light of Myanmar state newspaper represent extreme speech against the Rohingya in two main ways, according to Ronan Lee (2019). First, it characterizes the situation in Rakhine State as one in which the authorities provide development aid and economic benefits, but where the population is under siege from Muslim terrorists—and by implication, by the Rohingya. Second, it ignores atrocities committed by the Myanmar military against Rohingya communities that have resulted in forced migration and systematic human rights abuses. Lee (2019) further contends that this anti-Rohingya speech has influenced violent narratives about the Rohingya on social media, thus fueling an environment where rights abuses against the minority group are deemed acceptable. Relatedly, Md. Ali Siddiquee (2019) writes that recent atrocities against the Rohingya have been carried out “through the tactics of post-truth politics,” including the willful spreading of misinformation, appeals to emotions and personal beliefs rather than established facts, and a constant repetition of core motifs. The situation is strikingly similar in Bangladesh, where analysis of The Daily Star newspaper shows the “othering” of the Rohingya using three fundamental frame sets: the Rohingya as an impediment to Bangladeshi prosperity, as victims, and as intruders on Bangladeshi sovereignty (Ubayasiri 2019, pp. 265–266). As Rohingya people look toward their futures and their “durable solutions”— possible return, integration, or resettlement—they find that language is once again an obstacle to rights protection and recognition. Language differences in camps have created challenges to the provision of aid; the nonprofit Translators Without Borders (TWB) (2018) notes that verbal communication in the Rohingya language is critical, and they have therefore developed an online glossary to assist humanitarian workers.7 They contend that 28% of refugees do not have 7 It is noteworthy that challenges associated with translation factor into other situations of displacement. On the U.S.-Mexico border, for instance, detained Guatemalan migrants who speak Mayan languages (and often speak little or no Spanish) struggle to navigate the U.S. court system and file asylum claims. They must often rely on for-profit translation services by phone as they navigate legal processes, including attempting to reunite separated family members (Nolan and Romero 2020). 13