Key Points

Charge 11 survivors, believed Rohingya refugees and Bangladeshi citizens, under Malaysia’s Immigration Act for entering without valid documentation, with penalties including fines, imprisonment, and corporal punishment.
Urge by Malaysia’s Human Rights Commission to withdraw charges against refugees, emphasizing their vulnerability and need for protection rather than criminalization.
Highlight Rohingya statelessness and persecution since 1982, with Bangladesh, Malaysia, and India hosting large refugee populations amid dangerous migration journeys.

On November 20, 2025, tragedy and controversy collided on the shores of Malaysia when 11 survivors—believed to be Rohingya refugees from Myanmar and two Bangladeshi citizens—were charged under Section 6(1)(c) of the Immigration Act 1959/63 for entering the country without valid documentation. The charges carry steep penalties: a fine of up to RM10,000, up to five years in prison, or both, and up to six strokes of the rotan, a form of corporal punishment still practiced in Malaysia. The hearing, originally set for this week, was postponed to December 21 to arrange for interpreters, as the accused could not understand the charges against them, according to Free Malaysia Today.

This legal action has drawn sharp criticism from Malaysia’s Human Rights Commission, Suhakam, which issued a statement on November 21 urging the immediate withdrawal of the charges. The commission stressed that these individuals, who risked their lives at sea, should be treated as vulnerable people in need of protection and humanitarian assistance—not as offenders. Suhakam argued, “Criminalising them dismisses the structural injustice and ongoing human rights violations that compel such dangerous journeys.” The statement went on to emphasize that Malaysia’s longstanding tradition of compassion should not be undermined by enforcement measures that inadvertently punish those most in need.

The plight of the Rohingya is not new, but this incident throws a harsh spotlight on the ongoing crisis facing the world’s largest stateless population. As the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) points out, the Rohingya—an ethnic Muslim minority in predominantly Buddhist Myanmar—have been denied citizenship since 1982. This legal exclusion has left them vulnerable to decades of violence, discrimination, and persecution, prompting repeated waves of mass displacement. The largest and fastest exodus began in August 2017, when violence erupted in Myanmar’s Rakhine State, driving hundreds of thousands to seek refuge abroad, reported India Today.

Malaysia, India, and Bangladesh have become the primary destinations for those fleeing Myanmar. According to UNHCR data cited by India Today, Bangladesh hosts the largest number of Rohingya refugees—an estimated 1,143,000 as of 2025. Malaysia follows with 181,000, while India is home to 83,737 refugees and asylum-seekers from Myanmar, comprising roughly 33% of its total refugee population of 250,000. The Indian states most affected include Jammu & Kashmir, Telangana, Punjab, Haryana, Uttar Pradesh, Delhi, and Rajasthan. A 2017 Indian government estimate placed the number of illegal Rohingya immigrants in the country at over 40,000.

The numbers alone, however, fail to capture the desperation and peril that define the Rohingya journey. Survivors recount harrowing tales of overcrowded boats, treacherous seas, and the constant threat of exploitation by trafficking networks. Suhakam’s statement underscored this reality, noting that “most of the survivors are believed to be Rohingya refugees from Myanmar, whose journey here was not undertaken by choice, but out of necessity and survival.” For many, the alternative to flight is continued persecution or even death.

Yet the legal and political response in countries of refuge is anything but uniform. In Malaysia, the law is clear: entering the country without proper documents is a criminal offense. But human rights advocates argue that such enforcement measures can have devastating, unintended consequences for people who are already victims of systemic injustice. “It is vital that national discourse does not conflate forced migration with criminal intent,” Suhakam warned. “These individuals risked their lives at sea in search of protection and dignity; they should not face prosecution for circumstances beyond their control.”

India, too, has grappled with the question of how to handle the influx of Rohingya and other refugees. The issue of illegal immigrants came to the forefront when the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP)-led government launched the National Register of Citizens and initiated a Special Intensive Revision of electoral rolls in states like Bihar and West Bengal. The debate has often been politically charged, with some officials calling for repatriation and tighter border controls. In December 2021, V Muraleedharan, then Minister of State in the Ministry of External Affairs, told Parliament that India had raised the issue of Rohingya repatriation with Myanmar, but acknowledged that lasting solutions would require development in Myanmar’s Rakhine State.

The international community, meanwhile, has struggled to find a coordinated response. While humanitarian agencies continue to provide aid and support to refugees in camps and urban settlements, the root causes of the crisis—citizenship denial, ethnic violence, and political instability in Myanmar—remain largely unaddressed. The steepest climb in Rohingya migration occurred in 2017, when violence in Rakhine State caused the population of refugees in Bangladesh to soar from 276,000 to 932,000 in a single year. Since then, migration patterns have fluctuated but the underlying crisis persists.

What makes the situation particularly challenging is the statelessness of the Rohingya. Without recognized citizenship, they lack legal protections, access to education and healthcare, and the right to work in many countries. As UNHCR notes, “the Rohingya are not recognised as an official ethnic group and have been denied citizenship since 1982, making them the world’s largest stateless population.” This legal limbo leaves them vulnerable to exploitation, detention, and deportation wherever they go.

Back in Malaysia, Suhakam’s call for compassion and due process resonates with the country’s historical approach to refugees. The commission reminded authorities that “treating the survivors as vulnerable people, not offenders, would align with the nation’s commitments to human rights, and reaffirm Malaysia’s longstanding tradition of compassion towards people in need.” It urged that the survivors be provided with humanitarian assistance, protection, and due process, rather than prosecution and punishment.

The upcoming hearing on December 21 will be a critical moment—not only for the 11 individuals facing charges but for Malaysia’s broader approach to migration, human rights, and international obligations. As governments across the region grapple with the complexities of forced migration, the world will be watching to see whether compassion or criminalization prevails.

For the Rohingya, the journey to safety is fraught with uncertainty, but their resilience in the face of adversity continues to shine a light on one of the most pressing humanitarian crises of our time. The choices made by countries like Malaysia and India will help determine whether these survivors find protection and dignity—or yet another chapter of hardship.