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

Have a Meaningful Chinese New Year - ARE YOU FIRST A MALAYSIAN OR CHINESE?

 

ARE YOU FIRST A MALAYSIAN OR CHINESE?

This question is irrelevant, unknowing and oftentimes insidious.

Irrelevant because being Malaysian is about our citizenship. Being Chinese is about our ethnicity. Citizenship and ethnicity are not the same thing. And we can be proud of being both at the same time.

Unknowing because, unfortunately, many Malaysians do not know the difference and are easily drawn into a fruitless debate. Insidious because there are those who throw these questions for political games. While this manipulative and dangerous political strategy benefits them, it does not profit you and me.

What does it do? It hurts us. It divides us. It tears us apart. It makes us question each other’s loyalty.

When we were born, we took our first breath both as Malaysians and as Chinese. Both as Malaysians and as Malays. And both as Malaysians and as Indians, Kadazans, Ibans or Eurasians. Both at the same time.

When we are overseas, we refer to ourselves as Malaysians. Why? Because we are proud Malaysian Chinese who want to differentiate ourselves from Chinese elsewhere, such as in China or Singapore. Malays would do the same and differentiate themselves from Malays from South Thailand or Indonesia. Indians would distinguish themselves from those from India.

We need to stop pitting our citizenship against our ethnicity.

The next time someone asks us this question, let us answer: “It is an irrelevant question, because I am both, first!”

Have a meaningful Chinese New Year from all of us at Zubedy.

Peace, anas

Chen Man Hin

In a political culture that often rewards noise, Chen Man Hin (1924–2022) avoided emotional or provocative racial language and showed that steadiness, discipline, and constitutional conviction can shape a nation just as powerfully.

LAND TRESPASSING IN MALAYSIA: A QUR’ANIC PERSPECTIVE

 

Land trespassing is not a challenge unique to Malaysia; it is a universal governance issue. It manifests in both developed and developing nations because land sits at the intersection of fundamental human needs. Wherever land exists, competing pressures inevitably follow.

In the Malaysian context, these pressures are viewed through six distinct lenses:

• Survival: The need for housing.
• Livelihood: Small-scale farming and sustenance.
• Economic Gain: Large-scale plantations, logging, and mining.
• Identity: The role of religion and culture.
• History: Gaps in colonial-era land titling.
• Power: The struggle over who controls natural resources.

While these forces overlap, they do not operate at the same scale. Contemporary public debate often disproportionately amplifies religious land disputes—particularly those involving Hindu temples. However, when we step back to examine the total physical footprint, the narrative shifts. Land trespassing in Malaysia is not primarily a religious problem; it is a structural, historical, and economic one.

The Proportional Reality

The most significant land impacts arise from:

• Indigenous and Customary Land Disputes: Especially prevalent in Sabah and Sarawak.
• Agricultural Encroachment: Expansion into forest reserves or state land.
• Illegal Extraction: Unsanctioned logging and mining activities.
• Historical Settlements: Informal squatter housing and legacy urban settlements.
• Religious Land Status: Disputes over the gazetting or placement of houses of worship.

In the absence of a consolidated national database categorizing trespass by type, the following distribution serves as a reasonable working model based on cumulative public reports and enforcement trends. It illustrates the proportionality of the issue:

Category	Estimated Acreage Impact
Indigenous & Customary Land Disputes	~45%
Agricultural Encroachment (Forest/State)	~35%
Illegal Logging & Mining	~10%
Historical Squatters & Informal Housing	~8%
All Religious Land Disputes Combined	~2%

 

Even with statistical adjustments, the conclusion remains consistent: religious land disputes constitute a very small fraction of total affected acreage. What occupies the most emotional space often occupies the least physical land. A 0.2-hectare temple dispute may trigger a national crisis, while tens of thousands of hectares of customary claims or forest encroachment remain on the periphery of public consciousness. This is not just a legal observation; it is a diagnostic of our collective attention.

The Qur’an as the Guide

As a Muslim, I must ask how to approach land trespassing. For me, this is not optional; it is wajib (obligatory) as a mental model. Mental models are the internal maps we use to interpret the world. When they are flawed, our behavior becomes distorted. When they are clear and mature, our deeds—both individual and collective—improve.

A Muslim’s primary mental model is the Qur’an:

"O mankind, the Messenger has come to you with the truth from your Lord..." (Qur’an 7:158)

If we take the "big picture" seriously—considering acreage, frequency, and proportionality—the Qur’anic question is not merely "Are we legally right?" but rather, "Are we just, balanced, and God-conscious in how we act?"

I. Justice (‘Adl)

"O you who believe, stand firmly for Allah as witnesses in justice, and do not let the hatred of a people prevent you from being just. Be just; that is nearer to righteousness." (Qur’an 5:8)

Justice in Islam is not selective. If I am vocal about a 0.2-hectare temple dispute but silent regarding the 45% of land tied to Indigenous customary claims, the Qur’an questions my consistency. If I speak passionately about religious encroachment but ignore the 35% involving the clearing of forest reserves, my scale of outrage is distorted. Justice must follow scale, not identity.

II. Balance (Mizan)

"And establish weight in justice and do not make deficient the balance." (Qur’an 55:9)

The Qur’an emphasizes mizan—balance. When 80% of land impact stems from customary disputes and agricultural encroachment, yet our outrage is concentrated on a 2% religious category, the balance is deficient. Without mizan, even legal enforcement can become morally questionable.

III. Protection vs. Corruption (Fasad)

The Qur’an distinguishes between survival and corruption (fasad), while specifically mandating the protection of houses of worship:

"...And were it not that Allah checks the people, some by means of others, monasteries, churches, synagogues and mosques in which the name of Allah is much mentioned would have been demolished." (Qur’an 22:40)

And:

"Do not cause corruption upon the earth after it has been set in order." (Qur’an 7:56)

Housing encroachment driven by poverty is not morally equivalent to clearing hundreds of hectares for commercial profit. A zinc-roof home built in desperation is not the same as systematic exploitation. True justice differentiates between the vulnerable seeking survival and the powerful seeking uninhibited gain.

---

The Mirror of Self-Examination

The Qur’an turns the mirror inward:

"Why do you say what you do not do?" (Qur’an 61:2)

Are we equally concerned about environmental degradation, Indigenous marginalization, and corruption in land approvals? Or does our outrage only spike when "the other" is involved? Selective outrage is not just a political failure; it is a spiritual one.

Based on these themes, a Qur’anic approach to land would emphasize:

• Fair Enforcement: Applying land law consistently across all categories.
• Proportionality: Aligning our reaction with the actual scale of the issue.
• Vulnerability: Protecting those in customary and survival-based disputes.
• Stewardship: Guarding the environment from commercial fasad.
• Dignity: Resolving religious disputes with restraint rather than theater.

If Muslim activism focuses intensely on the smallest percentage of land while ignoring the largest impacts, the Qur’anic mirror becomes uncomfortable. Many are framing it as it is a legal issue.

Perhaps the issue is not land. Perhaps the issue is not about legality – Pencerobohan Tanah. Perhaps the issue is about a heart that requires purification.

If we fight for justice and balance instead of bias, do we become better Muslims? Are we representing the spirit of Islam? Are we true representatives of the Prophet? Are we reflecting the mercy of the Prophet, whom Allah described as:

"And We have not sent you, except as a mercy to the worlds." (Qur’an 21:107)

Or are we projecting the opposite?

Peace, anas