Malaysia's Rohingya Reversal: From Haven to Return

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia — In a quiet neighborhood in Malaysia's capital, Rohingya children sit cross-legged on the floor of a modest learning center, studying the Quran alongside standard academic subjects. They are not permitted to attend formal schools, so they depend entirely on donor-funded informal classes run by organizations like the one operated by Riyadh Al Haq, a Rohingya human rights activist. "Because of their help, we can teach our kids here," Riyadh told Al Jazeera, referring to the generosity of supporters who keep the center running.

The limitations facing these children extend far beyond the classroom. Their families cannot access Malaysia's healthcare system, and adults are barred from formal employment, leaving them to scrape together livelihoods through informal work such as washing cars, laboring in restaurant kitchens, or delivering packages as couriers. Despite these hardships, many Rohingya say life in Malaysia remains preferable to what they fled in Myanmar.

An estimated 125,000 Rohingya currently reside in Malaysia, a Muslim-majority nation that has long drawn them because of religious and cultural ties. Riyadh expressed gratitude for the tolerance they have encountered. "Because of their [Malaysian people's] kindness, our people can stay in this country. They can live here," he said. "We are more safe than in Myanmar."

That sense of relative safety is now under threat. On Tuesday, the Malaysian government began repatriating an initial group of nearly 1,500 Rohingya to Myanmar, with plans to eventually return 5,000 Myanmar nationals. The move has thrust the plight of the Rohingya — widely regarded as one of the world's most persecuted ethnic minorities — back into the international spotlight. The community is effectively stateless, as Myanmar does not recognize them as citizens.

The repatriation has drawn sharp criticism from the United Nations and international human rights organizations, who point to the well-documented history of persecution the Rohingya have suffered in Myanmar's Rakhine state. In 2017, the Myanmar military launched a brutal crackdown that drove more than 700,000 Rohingya to flee, mostly into neighboring Bangladesh. That campaign involved the widespread destruction of Rohingya homes and the killing of thousands, and it has been widely described as amounting to genocide.

A genocide case brought by The Gambia against Myanmar is currently before the International Court of Justice in The Hague, with a verdict expected next month or in November. The ongoing proceedings underscore the gravity of the allegations against Myanmar's military, and they cast serious doubt on the safety of returning Rohingya to the country they fled.

Malaysian authorities have insisted that all those being returned are doing so voluntarily and that their safety and wellbeing are guaranteed. Yet critics argue that such assurances are hollow given the ongoing civil war in Myanmar, which erupted after the military seized power in a 2021 coup and ousted the democratically elected government of Nobel Peace Prize laureate Aung San Suu Kyi. The conflict has engulfed large swaths of the country, making any promise of protection effectively unenforceable.

The government of Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim has committed to returning 5,000 Myanmar nationals, a policy that many observers view as a reversal of Malaysia's long-standing leniency toward the Rohingya. While Malaysia is not a signatory to the 1951 United Nations Refugee Convention and therefore does not grant the Rohingya official refugee status, it has historically taken a tolerant approach to their presence, allowing them to remain without formal legal protection.

That tolerance has been eroding in recent years, driven by economic pressures and a surge of misinformation on social media. Coordinated online petitions calling for the expulsion of refugees and other marginalized groups have collected hundreds of thousands of signatures, reflecting a shift in public sentiment. Nur Sadek, executive director of Rohingya Rights Response, has been monitoring social media content that spreads hateful messaging about the Rohingya.

One content creator with thousands of followers has posted a series of clips mocking Rohingya individuals to their faces while complaining to the camera about how they allegedly smell. In another video produced by self-styled vigilantes, three men are seen stopping and questioning a Rohingya passerby on the street. Such content, rights advocates warn, fuels hostility and creates a climate in which repatriation policies can be enacted with little public resistance.

The children in the Kuala Lumpur learning center represent the human dimension of a policy debate that has unfolded largely through official statements and social media campaigns. Barred from formal education and healthcare, and with their parents restricted from legal employment, Rohingya families in Malaysia occupy a precarious space — tolerated but never fully integrated, protected by custom rather than law.

For Riyadh and others who have built lives in Malaysia, the prospect of returning to Myanmar is deeply alarming. The 2017 crackdown and the subsequent military coup have left Rakhine state mired in violence, with recent reports of airstrikes on markets killing dozens of civilians. The Malaysian government's repatriation push, they argue, ignores these realities in favor of a political narrative that frames the Rohingya as a burden rather than a community in need of protection.

The international community's response has been swift but limited. The United Nations and rights groups have condemned the repatriation, but Malaysia — not being bound by the Refugee Convention — faces few formal obligations. As the ICJ prepares to deliver its verdict on the genocide case, the contrast between international legal scrutiny of Myanmar and Malaysia's forced returns highlights a gap between principle and practice.

For now, the repatriation operation continues, with buses carrying the first batch of Myanmar nationals departing from Perak state. For the estimated 125,000 Rohingya who remain in Malaysia, the future is uncertain. Many arrived after perilous sea journeys on overcrowded boats, welcomed by a population that once showed widespread sympathy for their plight. That sympathy, rights advocates say, is being deliberately undermined by misinformation and economic anxiety.

The children in the learning center will continue their lessons for as long as donors support them. But the broader question — whether Malaysia will remain a place of refuge or become a way station for return — hangs over every family facing the prospect of being sent back to a country that many believe still poses an existential threat to their survival.