What went wrong?

Malaysian sentiments towards Rohingya have changed since the COVID-19 pandemic. Malaysia’s Prime Minister declared it would no longer accept Rohingya refugees during the 36th ASEAN Summit in June 2020. Malaysian authorities now ban Rohingya boats and increase immigration arrests. Amnesty International stated that Malaysian immigration officials and police invaded refugee camps and incarcerated hundreds of refugees in immigration detention centres throughout 2020. 

Public concerns about Rohingyas also grew, especially during the partial lockdown policy. While the authorities have restricted people’s mobility, others have expressed concern about Rohingya refugees’ coronavirus risk due to their unhygienic living conditions. This prejudice quickly escalated into a xenophobic attitude and persecution of Rohingyas in Malaysia. In reaction to a fake Facebook post in 2020 saying a Rohingya activist demanded citizenship from the Malaysian government, social media was filled with xenophobic insults about Rohingya refugees. The lack of government response and political commentary on Rohingya in Malaysia exacerbated this situation.

While the epidemic had little impact on Rohingya migrants in Indonesia, the surge in arrivals in late 2023 changed Indonesia’s response. Aceh became unfriendly to Rohingyas. Locals have blocked boat landings and threatened to beat them. They also complained about the lack of gratitude displayed by Rohingya refugees who refused food offerings and fled from the camps. In late November 2023, a mob of students stormed into a refugee camp, demanding their expulsion. 

At the same time, the government has imprisoned Acehnese fishermen who rescued Rohingya refugees on people smuggling charges, instilling fear among locals who want to help refugees. The securitisation approach used by the Indonesian authorities has also hindered potential integration between refugees and the locals. Indonesian media, particularly local news in Aceh, has widely reported on the shift in attitude and at the same time, reinforced negative stereotypes about the refugees. Social media exacerbates the situation by spreading false narratives that foster suspicion and hostility towards the Rohingya. 

The politics behind growing resentment

To explore the factors behind growing resentment toward the Rohingya in Indonesia and Malaysia, we conducted qualitative research combining in-depth interviews and focus group discussions with key stakeholders, including government officials, religious and community leaders, local inhabitants, civil society activists, journalists, academics, and refugees —engaging 91 informants in between June to October 2024. We also conducted on-site observations in five asylum-seeking locations in Aceh—Meulaboh, Sabang, Pidie, Aceh Timur, and Lhokseumawe. 

Additional insights were drawn from literature reviews, government and organisational reports, and credible national and local media. To address data gaps, we interviewed experts and academics specialising in Rohingya issues in Malaysia.

Our research found similar organised narratives and labelling of Rohingya in Malaysia and Indonesia, portraying them as job-seeking illegal migrants rather than refugees. Both nations expressed concerns about large refugee populations affecting local communities, with resentment growing over overcrowding and economic strain. 

In Malaysia, one informant noted, ‘the economic fallout from the government’s Stay-at-Home policy fuelled negative perceptions of Rohingya. They can move freely and work illegally in low-skilled jobs.’ While this benefits Rohingya livelihoods, many Malaysians see them as competitors for jobs, exacerbating resource competition, especially during and after the pandemic. Despite NGO-led community engagement efforts, many Malaysians believe Rohingya remain insular. As one informant explained, “They form their own colonies in rural areas, leading locals to think they don’t need the host community. Fear and trust issues also contribute to this divide.”

In Aceh, the presence of Rohingya refugees has been linked to rising crime and social issues, including theft, human trafficking, and violence—an impression reinforced by local media and communities in Pidie, Meulaboh, Sabang, Aceh Timur, and Lhokseumawe. Unrestricted mingling in refugee camps has also led to accusations of prostitution, which the locals argue contradicts Aceh’s sharia law, posing a moral and social threat. “We have never witnessed it firsthand, but we believe [prostitution] exists because some Rohingya women give birth in the refugee camps.” While these sentiments reflect local prejudice, humanitarian workers acknowledge the severe impact on Rohingya women, many of whom suffer from depression and fear sexual violence in the camps. 

Refugee settlements have also intensified resource competition, particularly over land rent. International humanitarian organisations often pay exorbitant fees, benefiting local villages but fostering exploitation. In one case, a gampong (village) rented a beach site for 5 million rupiahs per month and charged excessive fees for electricity. In Gampong Kulee and Gampong Kulam, disputes over camp locations arose due to economic incentives. Sinarpidie reported that the International Organization for Migration (IOM) paid 10 million rupiahs per month for land rent, as well as an additional 6 millions rupiahs per day for camp and security services. Locals also profit by selling overpriced goods to refugees. One Rohingya shared, “We have to pay more for some items. Sanitary napkins cost three thousand for locals but five thousand for us.‘”

While socioeconomic factors and media narratives have fueled anti-Rohingya sentiment in Malaysia and Indonesia, our research found government policy inconsistencies and attitudes to be the primary cause. Both nations lack legal frameworks for recognising refugees, treating Rohingyas as illegal immigrants. In Malaysia, the government initially rejected Rohingya refugees for security reasons. The former Deputy Home Minister stated, “We have treated them humanely, but they cannot flood our shores like this.” Under Najib’s administration, Malaysia called for international intervention while simultaneously rejecting refugee boats and forming the National Task Force (NTF) to control the influx—an approach criticised for prioritising security over humanitarian aid.

Indonesia also lacks a clear refugee policy, balancing diplomatic ties with Myanmar and the ongoing crisis. Presidential Decree No. 125/2016 mandates temporary shelter, but refugees face forced movement, with local police pushing them out of camps. Despite diplomatic engagement, Indonesia’s efforts remain largely humanitarian, partnering with Nahdlatul Ulama and Muhammadiyah. To curb refugee numbers, both governments have denied boat landings, arrested smugglers, and detained immigrants—at times leaving deportees vulnerable to traffickers, as reported by USCRI.

According to our informants, these inconsistent policies have driven shifts in public attitudes. The government’s portrayal of Rohingya refugees as illegal immigrants was quickly amplified by mass media, shaping negative public perception. In both Indonesia and Malaysia, local inhabitants who initially welcomed refugees for humanitarian reasons became hostile, adopting the government’s narrative. As the government scapegoated Rohingyas for economic problems, the public largely followed suit. While current policies aim to address the Rohingya crisis, they often fail to foster social inclusion or peaceful coexistence.

In fact, in recent years, governments and politicians in Malaysia and Indonesia have been pivotal in shaping negative perceptions of Rohingya refugees, using media to amplify public fears. The narrative portrays the influx of Rohingya refugees as a significant threat to both national and local security, suggesting that their presence could undermine community harmony and safety, which resonates deeply with citizens who are already grappling with internal social and economic challenges. 

Dominant narrative frames in major Malaysian media, such as The Star, play a key role in shaping public perception. The media amplifies public fears by portraying the Rohingya as violent, criminal, and isolated, unable to integrate despite receiving support from the host country. Initially, The Star presented a compassionate image, with employees packing food for refugees during Ramadan. However, as government policies shifted, so did the framing, aligning with the official narrative. Studies suggest this shift is due to many local newspapers being controlled or owned by entities with ties to the ruling party, which influences their support for government policies and national interests.

Similar to the media narrative trends in Malaysia, local media coverage in Aceh has adopted a hostile stance on the Rohingya issue. As the refugee numbers grew, a narrative emerged suggesting the stranding of Rohingya refugees in Aceh was not accidental but orchestrated. The influx was increasingly framed as a security threat tied to human trafficking. This narrative was pushed not only by government institutions but also by intelligence analysts and local academics, reinforcing the idea of a calculated and dangerous situation. Journalists from Sinarpidie argue that this narrative shift appears strategically orchestrated, with state-controlled media and police-aligned outlets involved. Investigations by Sinarpidie revealed efforts by a government office to shape and project this hostile narrative to the public. In a meeting with village heads (keuchiks) in Muara Tiga district, the Pidie Regent ordered local residents and officers to guard the coastline to prevent any more Rohingya boats from landing in the area.

In Malaysia, Rohingya refugees are scapegoated to distract from government mismanagement and economic woes. By fuelling suspicion and xenophobia, politicians and bureaucrats position themselves as protectors against external threats. Even when facing criticism from human rights groups, the Malaysian government insisted on continuing its hostile policies, saying “We arrest them because it’s against the law. If we allow the PATI (undocumented immigrants) that enter our country illegally to move freely for human rights reasons, at the end of the day, it’s the majority of our people who will be affected.”

In Indonesia, politicians exploited public anxieties during the 2024 elections. Prabowo Subianto, for example, garnered attention and praise from anti-Rohingya influencers with his comment that aid to the Rohingya should not compromise citizens’ welfare. Meanwhile, President Joko Widodo’s inconsistent approach—ranging from repatriation to relocation—fueled confusion and an unexpected rise in anti-Rohingya rhetoric, despite data from Drone Emprit showing that 56% of online attitudes remained positive before the election. 

In Aceh, the politicisation of the refugee crisis was evident in the involvement of electoral actors and the police in mobilising student protests and mass opposition to the refugees, as highlighted by several civil society activists and local journalists. Humanitarian workers, while aware of this dynamic, were constrained by “office policy,” which mandated that they maintain “positive cooperation” with local authorities who orchestrated the mass rejection, all in the name of ensuring the refugees’ safety. This complicated situation reflected the intersection of politics and humanitarian efforts, where political pressures sometimes overshadowed the well-being of the refugees.

Looking at the politics behind the growing resentment in Indonesia and Malaysia underscores how the refugee crisis is often manipulated for political gain, turning vulnerable populations into tools of electoral strategy. The calculated approach by governments and politicians has transformed once-welcoming attitudes into hostility and exclusion, reinforcing public resistance toward Rohingya refugees.

By propagating these sentiments, governments and politicians effectively muddy the waters of public discourse, creating a climate where suspicion and xenophobia can easily take root and flourish. This approach allows them to bolster their positions and influence by appearing as protectors of the people against these perceived external threats. 

Thus, the role of government and politicians is not merely passive or reactive but is a calculated series of actions aimed at consolidating power and influence by manipulating public fears and prejudices. This has contributed to hatred and animosity towards Rohingya refugees, turning welcoming attitudes into ones of resistance and exclusion.