Applying the brakes to Malaysia’s dangerous trend

On June 17, my friend Aziz wrote on his Facebook page that it warmed his heart to receive Maal Hijrah greetings from non-Muslim friends as such greetings reflect the awareness, respect and appreciation of what matters to others.

He said the message conveyed was: “I may not share your faith, but I acknowledge your special day and wish you well”.

Aziz added: “Much is often said about our differences, but, in our daily lives, ordinary Malaysians continue to demonstrate something far more powerful. We attend each other’s celebrations, exchange festive greetings, share meals and stand beside one another in times of joy and sorrow. These are not grand gestures. They are simple acts of humanity that quietly strengthen the bonds between us.”

It is exactly these little acts, the shared experiences, that the Sultan of Perak, Sultan Nazrin Shah stressed in his most recent call for unity when addressing the Third International Summit of Religious Leaders 2026 held at the Kuala Lumpur Convention Centre on June 12.

His thesis —that we must make interfaith and inter-ethnic encounters “ordinary, not exceptional” — is what Malaysia needs to work on.

“The surest antidote to the clash of ignorance is disarmingly simple: a young Muslim, a young Christian, a young Hindu, a young Buddhist who have broken bread together, played football together, cleared a flooded street together after the monsoon.

“Through such encounters, coexistence becomes more than tolerance. It becomes friendship. It becomes the discovery that another person’s difference need not diminish one’s own identity, but may instead deepen one’s understanding of our shared humanity,” he rightly said.

Malaysia’s constitutional embrace of diversity is a blessing, yet it demands constant care. Repeated flashes of tension remind us how quickly ordinary relationships can be strained.

In Malaysia, we have learnt that the greatest dangers rarely arise from grassroots anger alone. They are often stirred from above by those who profit from outrage – politicians trying to rise up in their race or religion-based parties, or to win votes; and leaders of race or religion-based NGOs pushing “I’m superior” agendas.

Increasingly a part of the problem are digital platforms once designed to connect us, but which now reward division. They reach hundreds of millions of young minds at speeds our grandparents could scarcely imagine, turning complex issues into quick, gripping stories that keep us locked in the same feed.

Sultan Nazrin, in noting this, rooted his message in the wisdom of the world’s great traditions.

“The Quran tells us that God made us into nations and tribes so that we may come to know one another. The Gospel calls peacemakers blessed. The Torah commands that we love the stranger, for we ourselves were once strangers. The Buddhist teaches that hatred is never appeased by hatred, but only by love. The Hindu greets the divine in the other with a single word — namaste. Confucius taught that within the four seas, all are brothers.

“Five different religions, but one single message: the stranger is not the enemy. This is the treasure we hold in common, and it is the treasure we must place, deliberately, into young hands.”

One of the biggest problems I see is the increasing trend of treating the “other” as the enemy. If we don’t work on making everyone understand that difference is not a threat but a resource, this beautiful country may be doomed.

In recent years, this has become one of the major causes of disunity. Increasingly Malaysians – including leaders of political parties and religion-based groups – seem to think that acknowledging and appreciating difference in another person – whether it is religion or culture or identity – diminishes their own identity or religion or culture.

This is where the sultan’s advice rings true: “To the young people present, I would like to stress this above all: Do not allow anyone to convince you that the dignity of your faith depends on diminishing the dignity of another. As the Holy Quran makes abundantly clear, Allah subhanahu wata’ala could, had He so willed, have made us all into a single community — one religion, one race, and one nation — but He chose otherwise, and instructed us instead to compete with one another in goodness.”

This message needs to spread far and wide. We need to move beyond tolerance—which implies grudgingly putting up with someone—to friendship, where another person’s differences expand, rather than diminish, our own identity.

The Sultan’s call to make encounters ordinary is powerful because it is practical. But this alone may not be enough.

In his royal address at the pledge of loyalty ceremony on Nov 9, 2025 at Istana Iskandariah, the Sultan also warned that the spirit of consensus forged at independence must be respected.

He said: “The spirit of consensus and unity forged by those leaders at the nation’s founding must continue to be respected. Any voice, demand, or action contrary to this spirit must be firmly opposed to preserve the sovereignty, peace, harmony and prosperity of our independent nation.

“This country must never become a house of discord, a stage for the intoxicated pursuit of power. The meaning of independence will crumble when the tongues of some citizens become more poisonous than arrows, spreading venom to corrupt minds.”

This is why the government, the police and the attorney-general need to act without fear or favour. This is why arrest or prosecution must not be selective.

Yet blaming every fracture solely on top-down manipulation leaves us with an incomplete picture. History shows that genuine grievances—economic hardship, educational barriers, service gaps, selective justice, unequal treatment of citizens, the crushing of a group’s dignity, and policy frictions—can ignite sparks that then spread.

Sultan Nazrin’s call to “address the grievance, not just the symptom” therefore needs to be urgently adopted by the government and leaders of all institutions.

The antidote lies not in endless anger or endless tolerance, but in sound policies, fair play, effective execution and the quiet power of shared experience.

The strength of Malaysia has always lain in its people’s capacity to turn difference into understanding. That capacity is still ours to nurture as those like Aziz – who respect other traditions because it is the Malaysian thing, the human thing, to do – continue to demonstrate.

The views expressed are those of the writer and do not necessarily reflect those of FMT.