As the monsoon clouds retreated from the Bay of Bengal in early November 2025, a familiar but harrowing pattern began to unfold once more. Rohingya refugees, desperate for safety and a better life, braced themselves for perilous sea journeys—an annual phenomenon that, this year, has reached unprecedented levels. According to The Economist, the end of the monsoon season typically signals a surge in boat crossings from Cox’s Bazar in Bangladesh and Maungdaw in Myanmar, but 2025 has already seen a dramatic escalation. Recent United Nations data reveals that the number of Rohingya attempting these crossings in the first half of the year was roughly triple that of the same period in 2024.
The reasons behind this spike are as complex as they are tragic. Decades of violence and persecution have driven more than one million Rohingya into the sprawling camps of Cox’s Bazar. Many fled the Myanmar military’s brutal 2017 ethnic-cleansing campaign, while about 150,000 more arrived during the 2024 clashes between the Arakan Army (AA) and Myanmar’s military. The humanitarian situation has only deteriorated since. Aid withdrawals and growing fears that the United States might soon halt food payments have created a sense of urgency and despair within the camps, pushing even more refugees to risk everything at sea.
This desperation was made painfully clear on November 6, 2025, when a boat carrying around 70 undocumented migrants—most of them Rohingya—capsized off a Thai island near the Malaysian maritime border. The Jakarta Post and UCAN News both reported that at least 36 people died in the disaster, while 14 survivors were pulled from the water. The tragedy occurred near the Andaman coast, at the intersection of hope and heartbreak, where so many Rohingya journeys have ended in recent years.
The survivors’ ordeal did not end with their rescue. Eleven of them—nine from Myanmar and two from Bangladesh, aged between 17 and 43—were brought before a Malaysian court on November 19, charged with illegally entering the country near the island resort of Langkawi. According to UCAN News, the charge sheet stated that the group was accused of entering Malaysia "without valid passes." Langkawi police chief Khairul Azhar Nuruddin explained that the charges were read in court, "but they [the suspects] did not understand." The hearing was postponed to December 21 to allow interpreters to be arranged. If convicted, the survivors face fines of up to $2,400, five years in prison, or both, and up to six strokes of the cane—a sobering prospect for those who have already endured so much.
The search for additional survivors was called off on November 17, a grim acknowledgment of the dangers that continue to stalk these waters. Malaysia, relatively affluent compared to its neighbors, has long been a magnet for migrants from poorer parts of Asia. Many work in construction and agriculture, but the journey is fraught with peril. Human trafficking syndicates, exploiting the desperation of the Rohingya, routinely pack boats beyond their limits, leading to frequent capsizes and loss of life.
Behind these immediate tragedies lies a shifting political landscape that has only complicated the plight of the Rohingya. In December 2024, the Arakan Army expelled Myanmar’s military from northern Rakhine State, establishing itself as the de facto governing authority over a contiguous 40,000-square-kilometer swath of western Myanmar. With an estimated 40,000 fighters, the AA has become one of the most powerful armed groups in the country. The Myanmar junta, long the primary source of Rohingya suffering, now has no presence along the Myanmar-Bangladesh border and only minimal influence in the region as of November 2025.
This change in power dynamics has significant implications for the future of the Rohingya. Unlike other resistance groups, the AA does not rely on—or act as a proxy for—any single powerful neighbor. While it maintains a modest border with India’s Mizoram State and has cordial relations with both China and India, neither of these regional giants is likely to pressure the AA over Rohingya repatriation in the near term. Their primary interests are economic and geostrategic, not humanitarian.
The result is a diplomatic stalemate. While ASEAN and other international bodies continue to discuss the fate of the Rohingya, these conversations are increasingly detached from the realities on the ground. The AA’s control of the border, combined with the lack of international leverage, means that any talk of repatriation remains largely theoretical for now. Meanwhile, conditions in the Cox’s Bazar camps—where uncertainty and deprivation reign—will likely determine how many more Rohingya risk the treacherous journey by sea.
For those left behind in northern Rakhine, the future looks equally bleak. Estimates suggest there may be only a couple of hundred thousand Rohingya remaining in the region. Their prospects for safety, dignity, or return to their homes are dim, caught as they are between shifting armed groups and a world reluctant to intervene meaningfully.
The international community faces a bitter dilemma. Aid agencies, already stretched thin, are struggling to maintain even basic services in Cox’s Bazar. The looming possibility of further aid cuts—especially the potential end of U.S. food assistance—has stoked fears that the refugee crisis will only deepen. As The Economist reports, the worsening conditions are likely to drive record numbers of Rohingya to the sea in late 2025, despite the well-known risks.
For Malaysia, the arrival of these refugees presents both a humanitarian challenge and a legal quandary. The country already hosts millions of migrants, many undocumented, who contribute to its economy but also strain its resources and social fabric. The legal proceedings against the boat survivors highlight the tension between national security and compassion—a balancing act that has no easy answers.
As the world watches, the Rohingya continue to navigate a landscape shaped by violence, displacement, and uncertainty. Each boat that sets out from the shores of Cox’s Bazar or Maungdaw carries not just people, but the weight of a crisis with no end in sight. For those who survive the journey, new challenges await on foreign shores. For the many who do not, the sea becomes yet another graveyard in a long and tragic saga.
The Rohingya crisis, marked by shifting borders, political stalemate, and humanitarian despair, remains one of the most urgent and heartbreaking stories of our time. The coming months will test the resolve of governments, aid agencies, and the international community—demanding not just compassion, but meaningful action for a people who have already lost so much.
