Over the past few weeks, groups of young Rohingya refugees have gathered in Cox’s Bazar camps to demand justice, accountability and security. Organised under the banner of Rohingya Gen Z, the demonstrations are remarkable not only for their emphasis on rising violence in the camps, but also because they foreground something rarely acknowledged in global conversations surrounding refugee crises: political agency.Refugees are often viewed through the lens of either humanitarian suffering or border security and sovereign control. The emergence of a Rohingya Gen Z-led movement unsettles these framings.A catalyst and its costsApproximately 250 Rohingya refugees and Bangladeshi nationals are feared dead or missing after an overcrowded boat bound for Malaysia capsized in the Andaman Sea on April 9. Among the victims was a prominent Rohingya activist who had endured persistent harassment and intimidation, even seeking protection from the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), before being compelled to leave for Malaysia. Facing unrelenting insecurity with no viable alternative, he set forth for the journey. Apart from being an unfortunate tragedy, his death evidences what systemic failure looks like at its endpoint. For many young Rohingya, the shipwreck became a catalyst for political organising.A poster demanding justice for Ullah who was a prominent camp leader and spokesperson for Rohingya worldwide, Photo: By arrangement.The protests quickly unfolded into an expression of mounting frustration over the chronic insecurity perpetuated by the camps’ poor living conditions, where killings, abductions and extortion have become commonplace. The encampments have become a theatre of organised crime, with armed factions operating with near impunity. Targeted killings of community leaders and human rights defenders have fostered a precarious environment in which visibility itself carries risk. At the same time, refugees continue to survive without formal legal status or meaningful avenues for political participation.Organisations like the United Council of Rohang (UCR) are seen by the youth as a mere veneer of democracy that rehearse a “state-supervised choreography” rather than propagating self-governance.The architecture of controlThe settlements are governed through a dense and often bewildering architecture of authority, comprising the Camp-in-Charge offices, the Armed Police Battalion, intelligence agencies, the Refugee Relief and Repatriation Commissioner, UNHCR and representative bodies such as the UCR. Their mandates frequently overlap and the lines of accountability are not always clear to camp residents. Many highlight this apparatus’ susceptibility to managing political expression instead of addressing the underlying conditions. Gratitude and accountability are not mutually exclusive. The demands of Rohingya Gen Z do not deny Bangladesh’s generosity in hosting nearly one million refugees, but challenge the notion of political acquiescence. Rohingya Gen Z hold placards demanding accountability, Photo: By arrangement.Organisers argue that the space for political advocacy within camps is tightly constrained. Although workshops and training sessions are generally tolerated, attempts at independent political organising encounter far greater backlash. Activists are encouraged to channel their concerns through officially recognised bodies and hindered from mobilising outside of these structures. “If we are politically conscious, the Bangladeshi government thinks we will expose them,” one member told me. Another expressed a similar sentiment, claiming that the government does not want unity within the refugee community for the fear of drawing condemnation for its shortcomings. The cost of organisingPublic demonstrations have largely ceased as activists describe significant obstacles to obtaining permission. Most of the Rohingya Gen Z’s work has consequently shifted online. This suppression of collective action is not incidental and reflects the state authorities’ perception of political consciousness among refugees as a threat that requires management. Sahad Zia, a member of the Rohingya Gen Z, says he was falsely accused in a murder case around the same time that protests were being organised. He maintains that the allegations were unfounded and yet propelled him into prolonged legal proceedings. Other participants also describe going into hiding, fearing arrests and reprisal. It is this combination of insecurity, fragmented governance and limited political representation that fuelled the recent uprising. The protests are as much about everyday violence in refugee camps as they are about the absence of institutions accountable to the people they purport to represent.A regional momentThe protests also need to be situated within a wider regional context. From Bangladesh and Nepal to the Philippines, young people have increasingly emerged as significant political actors, challenging entrenched authority and bringing down corrupt institutions. The Rohingya camps are, of course, profoundly different from these sovereign political communities. Nevertheless, the development indicates that political consciousness cannot be subdued even after prevailing displacement. A generation raised in refugee camps, consistently grappling with humanitarian dependency and insecurity, is articulating its own language of dissent, accountability and collective action. Thus, the Rohingya Gen Z movement’s significance lies in its stubborn refusal to surrender political agency. Though concerns of funding shortages, international responsibility-sharing and human rights violation remain urgent, the demonstrations are a sharp reminder for the rest of the world that refugees are political beings. To only recognise their vulnerability and not their political agency is to misunderstand both the reality of displacement and the aspirations of the people who suffer through it.Jayalakshmi Itla Ragiri is an associate lawyer at the International Justice Council. She is a Chevening scholar and holds an LLM from SOAS, University of London. The views expressed are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect those of the organisation.