FROM WORK–LIFE BALANCE TO WORK–LIFE MASTERY – Today STARBiz pg 18

 

DEAR CAPTAINS of Industry and Public Institutions,

In recent years, few workplace ideas have been discussed as frequently and as loosely as work–life balance. It is often raised with good intentions, defended passionately, and yet applied inconsistently. As leaders, we must pause and ask a harder question. Have we truly understood what work–life balance was meant to achieve, or have we allowed a shallow interpretation to quietly shape behaviour, expectations, and performance in our organisations?

In this article, I would like to suggest that it is time we reframe our thinking. We need to move from Work–Life Balance (WLB) to Work–Life Integration (WLI), and then push further toward a higher aspiration, Work–Life Mastery (WLM).

These terms are not semantic exercises. They form mental models. Mental models are the internal explanations or maps we use to understand how the world works. They influence how we think, interpret situations, make decisions, and solve problems. When mental models are flawed, behaviour becomes distorted. When they are clear and mature, performance improves, both for individuals and for our businesses.

Today, work–life balance is often misunderstood and interpreted naively. In many cases, it pits work and life against each other, as though they are natural enemies competing for time and attention. That was never the original intention.

Properly understood, work–life balance refers to the ability to meet work responsibilities while still having sufficient time, energy, and mental space for personal life, including family, health, rest, learning, and community. It is not about working less. It is about working in a way that does not crowd out everything else that allows a human being to function well and meaningfully. It was never meant to be a stopwatch. It was about sustainability, dignity, and long-term human well-being that includes productive work.

The idea itself is relatively modern. Its roots trace back to the Industrial Revolution, when factory labour imposed long hours under unhealthy and unsafe conditions. Workers pushed back with calls for limits such as “eight hours work, eight hours rest, and eight hours leisure.” In the late twentieth century, the rise of white-collar work, dual-income households, and digital technology blurred the boundaries between work and personal life. Work–life balance then became both an individual and organisational concern. The intention was clear. Avoid short-term output that sacrifices long-term human and institutional well-being.

What work–life balance was never meant to be is equally important. It was never anti-work. It was never meant to imply equal hours of work and leisure every day. It was never a justification for laziness, lack of ambition, or a rigid formula that applies to everyone. It was never anti-performance or anti-excellence. It does not treat work as a burden from which life must be protected, nor does it suggest that time spent working is time stolen from living.

Yet today, we increasingly encounter a distorted mental model. We hear statements such as, “I work strictly from 8:30 to 5:30. Everything outside that is mine. Do not call me during my private time.” At the same time, there is little hesitation in attending to personal matters during company hours, messaging friends and family, scrolling social media, running errands, or mentally checking out. When balance is invoked selectively, it is not balance. It is asymmetry. True balance assumes mutual respect for time in both directions.

This is why many thinkers and practitioners have moved toward the idea of Work–Life Integration, sometimes described as Work–Life Harmony. The core idea is simple but demanding. Human beings are not meant to divide themselves into compartments. We are meant to live integrated lives where work, ethics, effort, rest, and meaning form one whole.

With this mental model, we do not ask for balance before contribution. We do not protect time at the expense of results. At the same time, we do not allow organisations to destroy people in the name of performance. Integration restores adulthood to the workplace. Values do not switch off after office hours, and responsibility does not disappear because the clock has moved.

However, as Captains of Industry, Work–Life Integration should be the minimum standard we expect from our people, not the end goal. Our ambitions must be deeper and further. If we are serious about building top-performing talent pools and credible successors, we must promote a higher aspiration. That aspiration is Work–Life Mastery.

Top performers, whether in general management or as high-level individual contributors, live in a different operating reality from the average employee. Top management, specialists, master engineers, surgeons, researchers, and deal-makers understand something fundamental. Success requires longer learning curves, higher stress tolerance, greater emotional regulation, and sustained periods of intense effort.

They accept that decisions follow them home. Problems do not clock out. Responsibility often spills into weekends, sleep, and reflection. They do not see this as exploitation. It is a price they are willing to pay for significance. This is not because they lack boundaries, but because they understand what mastery demands.

 

For them, the goal is not a stress-free life. The goal is a meaningful life that can carry stress without breaking. They do not attempt to avoid stress. They learn to work with it. They develop the ability to focus deeply, sit with complexity, think without immediate reward, and wrestle with ambiguity. These capacities require solitude, tolerance for boredom, and strong mental and emotional discipline - skills many never consciously train.

With this mastery, they read when others rest, practise when others scroll, and reflect when others switch off. They work deeper and longer on what truly matters and spend far less time on trivialities. Effort is not scattered. It is directed.

Paradoxically, the best performers do not define themselves only by their work. They anchor their identity beyond their job. Family, values, faith or philosophy, service, and physical, emotional, and mental health provide grounding. These anchors give them peace of mind under pressure. Without them, intensity becomes burnout. With them, intensity becomes meaningful effort that supports meaningful living.

Many of these individuals would describe their lives simply and confidently. “I work harder than most, but I also recover better than most. I carry stress, but I am not owned by it. I integrate work, life, learning, and meaning into one coherent life. I do not seek work–life balance. I strive for work–life mastery.”

Dear Captains, this reframing matters. The mental models we promote shape the behaviours we tolerate and the talent we produce. Moving from balance to integration and finally to mastery is not about demanding more from people without care. It is about restoring maturity, responsibility, and purpose to our organisations and our people. This is leadership work. And it begins with how we set the correct mental model.

Peace,

anas zubedy

zubedy (m) sdn bhd

 

𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗗𝗨 𝗧𝗘𝗠𝗣𝗟𝗘𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗪𝗘 𝗣𝗔𝗬𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗢?

 

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗕𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱

I have deliberately avoided writing directly about land trespassing in Malaysia when it involves religious buildings, especially on the current hot topic of Hindu temples. Instead, as I often do, I have encouraged us to take a step back and look at land trespassing in its totality.

Why? Because without proportion, we lose perspective. And when we lose perspective, we misplace our energy.

My conviction on this is not accidental. It stems from a serious belief that what we choose to pay attention to shapes how we think, how we feel, and eventually how we act. In fact, this idea forms the core of a book I am currently writing, which, God willing, will be in the market by the end of this year. We become what we repeatedly focus on.

In my earlier article, I pointed out that land trespassing involving religious sites makes up roughly 2 percent of the overall land encroachment landscape in Malaysia. The overwhelming majority involves other categories such as housing, agriculture, commercial exploitation, customary land disputes and structural historical issues.

Yet today, much of our public discourse is consumed by that 2 percent.

I previously urged Malaysians to redirect greater attention and energy toward the 98 percent where the structural, historical and economic challenges are far more significant in scale and impact. We need to trust our authorities and officials who have for decades done a good job especially if we compare with other nations.

Unfortunately, we are still doing the opposite.

So perhaps it is time to unpack the 2 percent. Not to inflame it. Not to politicise it. But to understand it within proportion. If we can see the whole picture clearly, perhaps those involved, and those observing, may respond with better judgement, greater calm, and a deeper commitment to fairness. The question is not whether issues exist. The question is what we are choosing to magnify. And that choice matters.

𝗪𝗲 𝗔𝗿𝗲 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗪𝗲 𝗣𝗮𝘆 𝗔𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗧𝗼

Before we unpack the 2 percent, we must understand a deeper principle. We are what we pay attention to. Attention is not passive. It is formative. What we repeatedly focus on shapes our emotions, influences our decisions, and gradually forms our character. Over time, it shapes our reality. The end result is simple. If we choose to pay attention to the right things, we win. If we do the opposite, we lose.

Every public debate is, at its core, a choice of attention. What we magnify begins to feel larger than it actually is. What we ignore begins to disappear from view. Fear grows when we feed it. Anger expands when we rehearse it. Proportion shrinks when emotion dominates.

The Qur’an refers to this action repeatedly, cautioning us to be conscious of where we turn our faces, tuwallu wujuhakum, and reminding us to reflect and think (47:24, 13:3, 30:30, 50:37, 59:19, etc).

𝗧𝘆𝗽𝗲𝘀 𝗢𝗳 𝗛𝗶𝗻𝗱𝘂 𝗧𝗲𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗟𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗜𝘀𝘀𝘂𝗲𝘀 𝗜𝗻 𝗠𝗮𝗹𝗮𝘆𝘀𝗶𝗮

Firstly, religious site land disputes in Malaysia occur across all faiths. Surau have operated in shop lots without approval, Chinese roadside shrines have appeared on road reserves, and churches have faced zoning or title complications. The issue is structural: religious growth is often organic, while land law is formal and procedural.

However, Hindu temples appear more frequently in reported cases largely because of historical factors. Many were built during the colonial estate era with verbal consent but without formal titles. When estates were later sold for redevelopment, these long-standing temples were suddenly deemed to be on private land.

In short, the higher share of Hindu temple disputes reflects legacy land arrangements and urban redevelopment pressures colliding with a modern land system, rather than a uniquely religious tendency to encroach.

In Malaysia, Hindu temples that are labelled as “land trespassing” cases are often treated as if they are identical. They are not. History, land law, migration patterns, plantation systems, and urban development all matter. If we want a rational discussion, we must categorise - not generalise.

We can look at Hindu temples in four categories with regards to land issues. And each requires a different kind of attention and action.

𝟭. 𝗣𝗿𝗲-𝗜𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗘𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗧𝗲𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗲𝘀 (𝗖𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗮𝗹 𝗟𝗲𝗴𝗮𝗰𝘆 𝗧𝗲𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗲𝘀)

Many Hindu temples were built during the British colonial era by Indian estate workers, often with verbal permission from estate managers but without formal land titles. They functioned as part of plantation social life and, in many cases, existed long before surrounding developments. The issue emerges decades later when estates are sold and modern land laws are applied, suddenly classifying these long-standing temples as “illegal.” These cases reflect historical land arrangements colliding with today’s title system, and require recognition and structured solutions rather than demolition politics.

𝟮. 𝗩𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗟𝗼𝗻𝗴-𝗦𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗺𝘂𝗻𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗧𝗲𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗲𝘀 (𝗖𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 𝗢𝗰𝗰𝘂𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻)

A second category involves temples built decades ago in kampung areas, sometimes on state land or road reserves, with no commercial motive. Over time they became part of the local social fabric and operated peacefully for 30 to 80 years without dispute. Legally, they may lack formal title, but socially they are embedded institutions. These situations are typically about regularisation, land alienation or relocation by consent, not confrontation.

𝟯. 𝗣𝗼𝘀𝘁-𝗗𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗽𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗳𝗹𝗶𝗰𝘁 𝗧𝗲𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗲𝘀

A third category arises when a temple predates surrounding development, but the land is later sold to a private developer who demands relocation. Public debate then frames the matter as trespassing on private land, even though historically the temple was there first. These cases call for compensation, alternative land and structured relocation agreements negotiated in good faith, rather than emotional escalation or vigilante responses.

𝟰. 𝗡𝗲𝘄𝗹𝘆 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗧𝗲𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗪𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗔𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘃𝗮𝗹

A fourth category does exist and must be acknowledged: newly constructed temples or roadside shrines built without approval, or existing structures expanded beyond permitted boundaries. These are genuine planning violations and should be addressed through notice, legal process and consistent enforcement.

𝗔𝗿𝗲 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝗖𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗴𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗨𝗻𝗶𝗾𝘂𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗛𝗶𝗻𝗱𝘂 𝗧𝗲𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗲𝘀?

No. Similar patterns have occurred across other faith communities. Surau and small mosques, particularly in earlier decades when documentation and planning controls were less stringent, sometimes began on state or community land without formal titles. Some operated temporarily in shoplots or informal structures before full approval was obtained. When land ownership later changed or redevelopment began, relocation or regularisation issues occasionally surfaced.

However, there is a structural difference. Islam is administered through state religious authorities, and mosques and surau fall directly under official oversight, funding channels and planning coordination. Over time, informal prayer spaces are more likely to be gazetted, granted land, or relocated with state support. Because of this institutional integration, long-standing unresolved title conflicts are generally less frequent and less prolonged for mosques and surau compared to colonial-era estate temples, village or long-standing community temples, and post-development conflict temples, many of which originated outside a centralised religious and land administration framework.

𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗜𝘀 𝗧𝗼 𝗕𝗲 𝗗𝗼𝗻𝗲?

First, we must lower the temperature. We do not need cheerleaders from either side. We do not need thuggery. We do not need counter-thuggery. When private citizens take enforcement into their own hands, they undermine the very rule of law they claim to defend. If there is intimidation, obstruction or violence, that is the responsibility of PDRM, not rival groups organising their own show of force. Landowners should deal directly and lawfully with temple committees. Authorities should be allowed to do their job professionally. The loudest voices are rarely the wisest ones.

Second, we must recognise that this pattern is not unique to Hindu temples. A surau may begin in a shoplot without permit. A Chinese shrine may appear at a road junction. A Christian prayer house may start in a residential unit. The driver is often the same: faith first, paperwork later. But in a modern land system, paperwork must precede structure. The policy challenge is therefore not religious, but administrative. How do we manage spontaneous religious expression within a formal land framework? If enforcement is too harsh, it appears discriminatory. If it is too lax, it invites uncontrolled expansion.

The middle path is clear. Immediate stop-work notices where necessary. Proper assessment of scale and history. Relocation options where appropriate. Structured community mediation. Clear timelines for compliance. Firm, but respectful. Consistent across all religions.

Perhaps it is time to create Specialised Mediadors expert group, equipped to handle such matters quietly, professionally and behind closed doors, before issues spill into the streets and onto social media.

The core principle is simple. Sincerity of belief does not create land rights. But disrespectful handling creates social instability. A mature nation must uphold both freedom of religion and the rule of law, without fear, without favour, and without spectacle.

And, we must apply the same standard across all faiths, whether it involves a surau on a road reserve, a Chinese temple without permit, or a church on disputed land. Consistency builds public trust.

𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗽𝗮𝘆 𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗼?

The best way forward is for all of us to pay attention to being the best representation of our own faith. In moments of tension, instead of asking how to win the argument, we should ask how to uphold the highest moral standard our tradition teaches. Hindus may ask, what would Thiruvalluvar do in this situation? Christians, what would Jesus do? Buddhists, what would the Buddha teach? Muslims, what would the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ exemplify?

“If a man restrains his anger, he will secure all he desires.” - (Kural 303)

“Hatred is never appeased by hatred in this world. By non-hatred alone is hatred appeased. This is an eternal law.” - (Dhammapada 5)

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God.” - (Matthew 5:9)

“It is by mercy from Allah that you were gentle with them. And if you had been harsh and hard-hearted, they would have dispersed from around you. So pardon them, seek forgiveness for them, and consult them in the matter. Then when you have decided, put your trust in Allah.” - (Qur’an 3:159)

Peace, anas

GIVE AND TAKE - THANK YOU FOR THE SURAU

 

Dear Non-Muslim business owners and corporations,

Thank you for providing surau facilities in your business premises and making it easy for my fellow Muslims to perform our daily prayers. It may seem like a small gesture, but it reflects something much bigger about who we are as a nation. We Muslims have hundreds of thousands of surau all over the country, including within business and corporate organisations, regardless of ownership.

We live in a country built on giving and taking. Malaysia is a Muslim-majority nation with Islam as the religion of the Federation. Yet we also have thousands of churches, Hindu temples, Buddhist temples, Chinese temples and gurdwaras combined. We celebrate some of the world’s most vibrant Thaipusam processions, joyous Chinese New Year celebrations with lion dances, and beautiful Christmas services and carols across the country. Our diversity is not tolerated. It is lived.

In the same spirit, within organisations where Muslims may not be the majority, space is still given for a surau. That is the Malaysian way. We make room for one another.

This is why Malaysia is great.

Malaysia is a wonderful embodiment of the Quranic verse:

“We have revealed to you ˹O Prophet˺ this Book with the truth, as a confirmation of previous Scriptures and a supreme authority over them. So judge between them by what Allah has revealed, and do not follow their desires over the truth that has come to you. To each of you We have ordained a code of law and a clear way. 𝐈𝐟 𝐀𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐡 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝, 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐇𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 ˹𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟˺ 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐒𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝. To Allah you will all return, then He will inform you regarding your differences.”

Qur’an 5:48

We give. We take. We respect. We say thank you to each other. And we move forward, together as one.

Peace,

Anas

NUCLEAR WEAPONS IN THE MIDDLE EAST - THE GEOPOLITICS OF DETERRENCE

I am personally opposed to weapons of mass destruction; nuclear arms are morally indefensible and purely catastrophic. However, global geopolitics is driven by the cold calculus of power rather than moral frameworks.

When analyzing Middle Eastern dynamics and the strategic ambitions regarding a "Greater Israel," one harsh reality emerges: nuclear capability is the ultimate deterrent against foreign intervention. Consider the historical trajectories of Libya, Syria, or Iraq. Had these nations possessed a nuclear shield, would they have faced invasion? Or would they still exist as functioning societies, pursuing socio-economic growth like their peers?

The 2003 invasion of Iraq was publicly justified by the search for weapons of mass destruction. In my view, Iraq was invaded precisely because it lacked a credible nuclear deterrent. The WMD claim was the pretext; had Iraq actually possessed such weapons, the risk of invasion would have been prohibitive.

History confirms that power enforces restraint. The United States deployed nuclear weapons in WWII even against a fading Japan. Since then, the international community has treated nuclear-armed states with unique caution - North Korea being a primary example. In the geopolitical arena, strength preempts encroachment.

Deterrence dictates behavior far more effectively than diplomacy or international law.

Regarding Iran, the conclusion is uncomfortable but logical: to end the persistent threats of attack from the U.S. and Israel, they should rapidly achieve a nuclear deterrent to stabilize their sovereignty – and peace in the Middle East.

Peace, anas

HAVE A MEANINGFUL RAMADHAN AND LENT

 

Both Muslims and Christians begin deeply significant seasons of devotion – Ramadhan and Lent.

Lent, for Christians, is a 40-day period of prayer, fasting, repentance, and reflection leading up to Easter. It commemorates the 40 days Jesus fasted in the desert and serves as spiritual preparation to remember his crucifixion and celebrate his resurrection. During Lent, many Christians practice self-denial, increase charitable acts, and renew their relationship with God.

Ramadhan, for Muslims, is a sacred month of fasting, prayer, self-discipline, and spiritual renewal. From dawn to sunset, Muslims abstain from food and drink as an act of worship and obedience to God. Ramadhan marks the month in which the Qur’an was first revealed and is a time of heightened devotion, generosity, and deepened consciousness of God before the celebration of Eid al-Fitr.

This year presents a beautiful opportunity for mutual understanding. As our Christian and Muslim friends journey through fasting, reflection, and charity, may we appreciate the shared values of discipline, compassion, humility, and faith.

“O you who believe, fasting has been prescribed for you as it was prescribed for those before you, that you may attain taqwa (God-consciousness).” – Quran 2:183

Have a meaningful Ramadhan and Lent.

Peace,
Anas

FROM TASMANIA TO PALESTINE - How Imperial Vocabulary Is Used to Justify Genocide

 

The colonisation of Tasmania, then known as Van Diemen’s Land, remains one of the most devastating genocides of an Indigenous society in modern history.

When the British arrived in 1803, the Palawa numbered in the thousands. Within a few decades, land seizure, frontier killings, the kidnapping of women, introduced disease, martial law, and forced removal reduced them to a few dozen survivors in distant settlements. A people were not only displaced; they were systematically broken.

What began as clashes over land turned into organised campaigns. The Black War. The 1830 Black Line. Then the so-called Friendly Mission that removed the remaining Palawa to Flinders Island. By the mid-19th century, colonial records declared them “extinct.” It was more than a description. It was a legal convenience. If a people are extinct, their land is no longer contested. Yet their descendants survived.

But this genocide was not carried out by weapons alone. It was prepared by words. The Palawa were described as “savages” and “hostile natives.” Their resistance was labelled criminality. Expropriation was called civilisation. Removal was called protection. Language cleared the ground before policy did. Imperial vocabulary turned invasion into order and dispossession into administration.

The pattern did not end in Tasmania.

In Palestine, language also comes first. Palestinians are described as terrorists, extremists, or demographic threats. Resistance is framed only as violence. Collective punishment is framed as security. Settlement expansion becomes neighbourhood growth. Occupation becomes administration. Displacement becomes evacuation. Civilian deaths become collateral damage.

The contexts are different. The century is different. The weapons are different. But the method is familiar.

The Palawa had no political bureau, no media arm, no foreign sponsors. What they had were armed bands who fought back. They ambushed settlers, attacked frontier posts, and tried to halt the seizure of their land. It was not a modern militant organisation. But in function, it was armed resistance against expansion.

The British did not call it resistance. They called it savagery and outrage. The political question of land was erased and replaced with a story about security and threat.

Today, groups like Hamas are framed almost entirely through the language of terrorism. Whatever one’s view of their actions, the broader political struggle over land, sovereignty, and rights is often reduced to a single label. The framing comes first. The narrative fixes the moral lens. Once a people are defined only as danger, their dispossession can be presented as necessity. When dispossession becomes prolonged and systematic, the line toward destruction narrows.

Tasmania and Palestine are not isolated cases. In the Americas, Indigenous peoples were called savages and obstacles to manifest destiny. In Africa, communities resisting land seizure were labelled tribes, rebels, or terrorists. In India, uprisings were reduced to mutiny. In Kenya, anti-colonial fighters were branded extremists. In Algeria, resistance became insurgency. The vocabulary always worked the same way. It stripped political struggle of context and recast it as disorder. Once the native is described as backward, violent, or irrational, expansion becomes duty. Control becomes stability. Suppression becomes peacekeeping.

Across centuries, the vocabulary changes. The structure remains. Define the native as threat. Define expansion as order. Let words move first. Policy will follow.

“Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness, who put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter.” - Isaiah 5:20, The Bible

“And when it is said to them, ‘Do not cause corruption upon the earth,’ they say, ‘We are but reformers.’ Unquestionably, it is they who are the corrupters, but they perceive it not.” - Qur’an 2:11–12

Peace, anas

 

A RATIONAL PERSPECTIVE ON LAND TRESPASSING - Today The STAR page 15

 

Land trespassing is not unique to Malaysia. It is a governance issue faced by nations everywhere because land sits at the intersection of survival, livelihood, economic gain, identity, history and power. In Malaysia, pressures arise from housing needs, small-scale farming, plantations and extraction, religious and cultural identity, colonial-era titling gaps, and the question of who controls resources. These forces overlap, but they do not operate at the same scale.

Public debate today often magnifies religious land disputes. They are visible, emotive and politically combustible. But when we step back and examine total physical impact, the narrative changes. Land trespassing in Malaysia is primarily structural, historical and economic - not religious.

Based on cumulative public reports and enforcement trends, and acknowledging that we do not have a single consolidated national database, a reasonable working model suggests the following approximate acreage distribution: Indigenous and customary land disputes about 45 percent; agricultural encroachment into forest or state land about 35 percent; illegal logging and mining about 10 percent; historical squatter and informal housing about 8 percent; and all religious land disputes combined roughly 2 percent.

Even allowing for adjustments, the proportional reality remains clear: religious disputes occupy a very small fraction of total affected land. Yet they dominate headlines. A 0.2 hectare temple dispute can trigger national outrage, while tens of thousands of hectares involving customary claims or forest encroachment receive far less attention. This is not merely a legal observation. It is a diagnostic of how we allocate attention.

Every nation operates with limited enforcement capacity, limited investigative bandwidth, limited political capital and limited public focus. The question is not whether land law should be enforced. It should. The real question is where we should allocate more energy, resources and talent. Should the bulk of our national focus be on 2 percent of the land impact, or on the 80 percent involving Indigenous claims and agricultural encroachment?

A rational society aligns effort with magnitude. Justice without proportionality becomes theatre. Enforcement without scale awareness becomes selective. Outrage without data becomes drama and distortion.

This does not mean religious land disputes should be ignored. They must be handled fairly and consistently. A clear and principled framework is needed for legacy religious sites. Where land is to be sold, the affected community - whether temple, mosque, surau, church or gurdwara -should be given a transparent right of first offer, reasonable time to raise funds, and pricing that is fair and regulated. The principle must be universal, not selective. Consistency prevents politicisation.

But we must also confront the structural dimension. Indigenous and customary disputes involve historical land use, native rights and long-standing documentation gaps. Agricultural encroachment into forests affects water security, biodiversity and long-term ecological stability. Illegal logging and mining degrade rivers and soil. These categories involve thousands, sometimes tens of thousands, of hectares. They are structurally significant.

Religious disputes are symbolically intense but physically small. We must distinguish between symbolic visibility and structural magnitude.

Attention is a national resource. Where we direct it shapes budgets, enforcement priorities and public perception. If we focus disproportionately on the smallest category, we risk under-addressing the largest.

The real issue may not be trespassing alone. It may be how we decide what deserves our attention.

Are we responding to the loudest issue or the largest? Are we allocating resources based on data or emotion? Are we strengthening governance or amplifying symbolic battles?

If we want to be rational, and build a mature citizenship, we must restore proportionality to our national conversation.

Peace,

Anas Zubedy

Kuala Lumpur