This article was originally published in 2024 and was last updated on June 26, 2025.
- Tension: Malaysia’s attempt to regulate harmful online content reveals a deeper conflict between safety, state power, and civil liberties.
- Noise: Legal jargon, political justifications, and selective reforms obscure the long-term implications for democratic discourse.
- Direct Message: Any regulation claiming to protect digital safety must be judged by how well it protects dissent—not just how well it silences harm.
To learn more about our editorial approach, explore The Direct Message methodology.
In early 2024, Malaysia proposed sweeping amendments to its Communications and Multimedia Act (CMA)—a move that quickly drew public backlash.
The amendments, championed by Communications Minister Fahmi Fadzil, promised to tackle “harmful online content” more aggressively.
On the surface, the rationale made sense: misinformation was surging, digital harassment was real, and bad actors were gaming online platforms.
But as the months passed and the bill was debated, paused, and sent for further review, it became clear that this wasn’t just about digital harm. It was about digital control. And that conversation hasn’t ended.
In 2025, as Malaysia and other democracies continue grappling with online regulation, the CMA amendments remain a cautionary tale: an effort that started with safety ended up flirting with surveillance. Revisiting it now gives us a blueprint—not just for what governments can do with regulation, but what citizens must watch for.
Between safety and silencing
The CMA amendment bill proposed fines up to RM1 million and prison terms up to 10 years for certain digital offenses. That alone was enough to spark alarm.
But the real controversy centered on two clauses: Section 73A, which would allow MCMC to search and seize information without proper protection for journalistic sources, and Section 51A, which offered sweeping immunity to the MCMC when acting “in good faith.”
Civil society groups, including the Centre for Independent Journalism (CIJ) and Lawyers for Liberty, immediately flagged the risk: without checks and balances, this could pave the way for abuse.
The deeper tension here wasn’t just about legal scope—it was about cultural precedent.
What kind of digital society does Malaysia want to become? One where regulation nurtures a healthy public square, or one where criticism can be labeled “harmful” and swiftly removed?
Even with the proposed reform to separate the roles of Chairman and CEO within the MCMC—a structural improvement—there remained no independent oversight mechanism. In practice, the commission would gain more power, with little increase in transparency.
The deferment to the Parliamentary Special Select Committee offered a brief moment of hope. But as the months wore on, public engagement waned. Media coverage slowed.
In many ways, the proposed amendments fell into a bureaucratic limbo—a quiet danger. Because when momentum fades, scrutiny does too. And that’s when legislation can quietly resurface with less opposition and even fewer revisions.
What the headlines missed
Most headlines framed the issue as a binary: protect citizens or protect speech. But the real danger lay in how the bill blurred those lines.
Broad definitions of “harmful content” meant even lawful dissent could be swept up in takedown orders. “Good faith” clauses offered protection for action, but not for accountability. And while private messaging features were exempted, the proposed liability for service providers created incentives for over-censorship.
When analyzing media narratives around this topic, one thing becomes clear: the complexity was often lost in the rush to categorize the law as either authoritarian or necessary. But laws don’t operate in categories—they operate in practice.
That’s why the CIJ’s call for an independent Online Safety Commission, separate from government influence, still resonates. It’s not about opposing regulation. It’s about refusing regulation without accountability.
This broader pattern—of governments introducing seemingly well-intentioned legislation under the banner of safety—has played out globally.
In the UK, the Online Safety Act sparked similar debates about proportionality and freedom of expression.
In India, new IT rules expanded content takedown authority, raising alarms about centralized control.
These comparisons show a trend: digital safety is becoming the new frontier for democratic tension.
The essential truth we often miss
Digital safety means little if it comes at the cost of democratic dissent. If regulation can’t protect criticism, it’s not protecting the public.
Lessons Malaysia—and others—can take forward
We can’t afford to treat digital regulation as a one-time legislative fix. Technology evolves. So do the tools of censorship. That’s why any law that expands government oversight must be balanced by enforceable checks from outside that same government.
Malaysia’s deferment of the bill was a step in the right direction. So was the parliamentary review process. But the work isn’t done. In fact, it’s only just begun.
Here are three enduring principles that should guide any nation looking to regulate online content in the name of safety:
- Oversight must be independent. If the body regulating speech is embedded within the executive, the potential for abuse is systemic. Independent review boards, judicial oversight, and transparent appeal mechanisms aren’t luxuries—they’re safeguards.
- Definitions must be narrow. Vague labels like “harmful content” or “misinformation” must be clearly defined. Otherwise, platforms—and governments—will err on the side of removal, chilling legitimate expression.
- Public consultation must be ongoing. It’s not enough to hold stakeholder sessions at the start. Digital laws must be living documents, shaped by continuous dialogue with civil society, media, and digital rights groups.
If Malaysia wants to set an example for how to balance security and speech, it must do more than delay flawed legislation. It must rewrite the foundation—with democratic integrity built in.
Reclaiming digital trust
The CMA amendments were never just a Malaysian issue. They mirrored a larger pattern we’re seeing around the world—governments using digital chaos to justify tighter control.
But digital freedom isn’t about refusing all regulation. It’s about demanding better regulation. Smarter laws. Stronger protections. And systems that know how to differentiate between what is disruptive and what is dissent.
In the end, the measure of any content law isn’t how much it removes. It’s how much it protects—especially when the message is uncomfortable, unpopular, or inconvenient for those in power.
And that’s the version of safety we can’t afford to forget.
