When the Earth Shook, Faith Held Us Together
By: Harry Myo Lin
On March 28, 2025, the ground in central Myanmar shook with violence unseen in more than a century. The 7.7-magnitude earthquake flattened homes, temples, mosques, and churches across Sagaing Region, leaving families scrambling amid rubble and grief. Amid this chaos, something remarkable unfolded. Buddhist monks, Christian youth, and Muslim laypeople converged to rebuild the collapsed Myo Ma Mosque. Side by side, they cleared debris, shared food, and prayed together.
For those familiar with Myanmar’s history of interreligious tension, this sight was extraordinary. Yet, it was not a coincidence. It was the fruit of years of quiet bridge-building by leaders like Sheikh Soe Nay Oo, the mosque’s long-time imam. Before he was forced into exile after the military coup, Sheikh Soe Nay Oo had tirelessly cultivated dialogue in his mosque, welcoming neighbours of all faiths. His efforts, often invisible, had sown the trust that would later blossom into solidarity when disaster struck.
This article tells the story of how communities fractured by politics and prejudice found unity in crisis and what their experience teaches us about reimagining a new generation of peace.
Threads of Trust in a Fractured Land
Myanmar is a land of deep religious devotion, but also deep fault lines. The Buddhist majority coexists with Christians, Muslims and other minorities who have often faced discrimination, violence, and exclusion. The 2012–2014 anti-Muslim riots and the Rohingya crisis of 2017 revealed the destructive potential of weaponised religion. When the military seized power in 2021, it tried again to manipulate Buddhism as a shield for authoritarianism, portraying itself as the defender of the faith (Ford, 2021).
Yet a counter-narrative was also emerging. In the years before the earthquake, grassroots interfaith initiatives gained momentum. Campaigns like the 2019 White Rose movement, where Buddhist youth offered roses to Muslim neighbours during Ramadan as symbols of friendship, signalled a quiet resistance to extremism (Global Voices, 2019). Trust was fragile but growing.
Sheikh Soe Nay Oo embodied this work. Known in Sagaing for his humility, he organised open dialogues, invited monks and priests to visit his mosque, and urged youth to see their differences as opportunities for learning rather than barriers. Though forced to leave the country for his safety, his legacy lived on in the community he nurtured.
Holding Hands in the Rubble
When the earthquake struck, trust became the most valuable infrastructure. Survivors did not wait for institutional aid, which was slow and uneven. Instead, they turned to each other.
In Sagaing city, monks carried injured Muslims to safety. Christian nurses set up makeshift clinics under tarpaulins. Muslim elders opened their courtyards for food distribution. Sometimes, survivors gathered for shared prayers: Buddhist chants of mettā (loving-kindness), Qur’anic recitations of Al-Fatiha, and Christian prayers for healing.
At the ruins of the Myo Ma Mosque, the scene was especially symbolic. A senior monk embraced the weeping imam, promising that the mosque would rise again. Witnesses captured the moment on their phones, and within hours, images of monks and imams holding hands in the rubble spread across social media. In a society long accustomed to pictures of division, this new icon of solidarity struck a different chord.
A young Buddhist volunteer later posted online: “I grew up hearing Muslims were not to be trusted. But when the ground shook, my Muslim neighbour was the first to pull me out. My ignorance collapsed that day instead.”
These were not just acts of charity; they were acts of transformation.
Lessons from Solidarity
The earthquake revealed what scholars of peacebuilding have long argued: relationships built before crises determine whether societies fracture or heal when pressure mounts. In Myanmar, years of modest interfaith dialogue provided the foundation for collaboration.
Three key lessons emerge:
Trust is social infrastructure. It cannot be built overnight, but when present, it is as vital as roads or hospitals. The ability of monks, imams, and pastors to coordinate relief rested on trust earned through years of shared meals, joint festivals, and quiet dialogues.
Symbolic leadership matters. When respected religious figures crossed lines of convention, whether monks helping with mosques or imams publicly thanking Buddhists, they gave their communities “permission” to act differently. Symbolic acts, amplified by media, became moral beacons.
Religion can be a generative force. Too often, religion is portrayed as a driver of conflict. Yet, in Sagaing, it was precisely religious values—compassion (karuna), mercy (rahmah), and love (agape) that compelled communities to help one another.
These insights echo Professor Tatsushi Arai’s concept of functional coexistence, the idea that communities in conflict can still cooperate on urgent needs even if deeper disputes remain unresolved (Arai, 2022). The earthquake response did not erase prejudice overnight, but it created “elastic boundaries” where cooperation was possible and transformative.
A New Generation of Peace
The theme of this issue, Reimagining a New Generation of Peace, calls us to look forward. What does Myanmar’s experience offer to the world?
First, it shows that the future of peace will not be negotiated only in conference halls or UN chambers. It will be lived in neighbourhoods, kitchens, and prayer spaces where ordinary people practice solidarity. The imam and monk in Sagaing remind us that peace leadership can come from those without official power but with profound moral authority.
Second, it illustrates that crises, whether earthquakes, pandemics, or climate disasters, can be catalysts for unity if trust has been patiently nurtured. In an age of accelerating climate collapse, more societies will face such crucibles. The question is whether we prepare by investing in relationships now.
Third, it highlights the importance of intergenerational collaboration. Youth who grew up in digital spaces shared images of solidarity that went viral, reshaping narratives faster than official propaganda could. Elders provided spiritual grounding; youth amplified the message. This co-leadership across generations is a hallmark of the new peace.
Finally, Myanmar’s story challenges us to expand our vision of peace. As Reina Neufeldt (2011) notes, peace is not only theological or political but also relational and transformative. It is not simply the absence of violence but the presence of belonging, healing, and hope.
Personal Reflection
As a Myanmar peacebuilder now living in exile, I carry these stories with me. I remember sitting with Sheikh Soe Nay Oo years ago in his mosque, watching him gently explain to children why Buddhists, Christians, and Muslims are part of one human family. I remember the scepticism he faced, and the patience with which he persisted.
When I saw the images of monks helping with his mosque after the earthquake, I knew his vision had not been in vain. Though forced from his homeland, his legacy endured in the relationships he had cultivated.
For me, this is the essence of peace: not grand declarations, but quiet commitments that prepare us to hold each other when the world breaks open.
Building on the Rubble
The earthquake of 2025 devastated Myanmar’s Sagaing Region. Yet amid the destruction, it revealed a deeper truth: peace is possible even in the most fractured societies when trust, compassion, and courage take root.
The image of monks and imams holding hands in the rubble is more than a memory. It is a blueprint. It shows us that the future of peace will be relational, intergenerational, and rooted in lived practice. It will emerge not only from institutions but from ordinary people choosing solidarity over suspicion.
As we reimagine a new generation of peace, let us remember the lesson from the Imam and the monk: the time to build trust is now, long before the ground shakes. When disaster comes, and it will, it is those invisible threads of relationship that will hold us together.
References
Arai, T. (2022). Functional coexistence in intractable conflict: A decades-long view of conflict intervention. Peace & Change, 47(2), 118–151.
Ford, B. (2021). Myanmar’s religious nationalism in the post-coup landscape. United States Institute of Peace.
Global Voices. (2019, May 29). In Myanmar, Buddhists offer white roses to Muslims during Ramadan. Retrieved from https://globalvoices.org
Neufeldt, R. C. (2011). Interfaith dialogue: Assessing theories of change. Peace & Change, 36(3), 344–372.
