A big thank you to Imran for inviting me to the RICE Media conversation on Identity Politics in the Malay-Muslim Community. It was a rich and thought-provoking session and when I was given the opportunity to speak, this was what I shared:
[1] I get irritated whenever I see the term “Malay-Muslim.” Why must there always be an attachment? I don’t see Chinese or Indian politicians when they talk, they mention Chinese-Confucian or Indian-Hindu/Christian. So why is it different for Malays? Why must “Malay” always be followed by “Muslim”? Interestingly, even during that discussion, I'm told non-Malay Muslims said they found this irritating too.
Why is it always Malay-Muslim that gets called out, while Chinese Muslims and Indian Muslims are barely mentioned? Are they insignificant or invisible in the eyes of Muslim politicians?
[2] I also said that I can understand why this attachment exists because the majority of Malays are Muslim. According to the census, around 1.4% of Malays identify as non-Muslim.
But I couldn’t help wondering aloud: What happens when that number grows to 50% or more? Would this “Malay-Muslim” label still exist or will it quietly disappear once the overlap no longer serves political purpose?
As I see it, the unease among Malay participants isn’t just about scrutiny, but it’s about religion once again being pulled to centre stage. If the issue were purely about being Malay, it wouldn’t be so sensitive. But because Malay and Muslim are so tightly attached, any discussion about one drags the other in and that makes people uncomfortable.
But again, who created this attachment in the first place? It wasn’t the community, it was the political system that fused race and religion for convenience. It’s politicians who institutionalised the Malay-Muslim identity, turning it into a symbol of “representation” and “protection.”
It aim to reassures neighbours that Singapore respects Islam, and reassures Malays [ happen to be majority are muslims ] that their interests are guarded. But that “protection” comes with a cost. It reduces Malays to a single narrative, limits individuality, and makes faith the measure of belonging.
So if the community is truly tired of seeing religion dragged into every discussion about Malay identity, then perhaps the call should not be to silence critics but to ask the politicians to stop it.
If Singapore is truly secular, then race and religion should stand apart as they do for the Chinese and Indians. Faith should be personal. Identity should be open.
And politics should stop deciding which must define the other.