Refugee camps on the Thai-Burmese border
Dotted along the Thai-Burmese border are nine official refugee camps housing almost 100,000 refugees from Myanmar. There are others who live elsewhere in Thailand, and the total number of Burmese refugees has waxed and waned over the years, following political conflicts, the military campaigns between the Burmese army and armed ethnic groups, and the persecution of dissident and divergent voices.
Refugee camps and their residents, grudgingly sheltered by the Thai government, have been in existence, in one form or another, since 1984. University students who fled persecution in Myanmar are now middle-aged camp leaders; villagers who ran from fighting and structural violence in the ethnic states now work for camp-based NGOs; children born in these camps have grown up and begotten a whole new gen-eration of refugees.
Throughout this time, the waves of political turmoil in Myanmar have overshadowed the camps and the future of the residents, leaving them stranded on the tides of uncertainty and liminality. Ongoing political changes in Myanmar combined with funding cuts for refugee services and provisions, the closing of the largest resettlement programme and the redirection of humanitarian assistance to Myanmar have shaken up the everyday lives of camp residents once again. They now face even greater uncertainty and anxiety about their future. Should they stay in camp and hope for the best? Should they cut their losses and leave, joining the 1 million Burmese migrants in Thailand working in labour-intensive industries?
In the book I am writing, I ask the following questions:
How is the future conceptualized, constructed and controlled in refugee camps in general and in particular through schooling and learning programmes? What does this say about the different actors/stakeholders and their approach to refugee futures? And what does this tell us about how time is conceived of and experienced?