SEPTEMBER 15 — Every Malaysia Day, we are reminded of 16 September 1963 — the day Malaysia came into being.
But while that day marked the creation of Malaysia through an agreement, a constitution and a date in history, the nation has taken shape ever since — through the lives of its people.
For more than six decades, Malaysians have developed a national identity that is sometimes difficult to define, but easy to recognise.
It is not perfect. Nor is it without disagreement.
But it is ours.
This Malaysia Day, that shared sense of belonging is worth affirming — especially when some of the constitutional foundations on which our country rests are being openly challenged.
On September 9, PAS president Tan Sri Abdul Hadi Awang called for the abolition of what he described as “colonial laws” obstructing the implementation of Islam, naming the Syariah Courts (Criminal Jurisdiction) Act 1965, or Act 355, the Civil Law Act 1956 and the division of powers under the Ninth Schedule of the Federal Constitution.
These are serious propositions. Because ultimately, what holds Malaysia together is not simply a shared history, but a shared constitutional framework — one that belongs to every Malaysian.
Hadi also referred to the division of powers under the Ninth Schedule of the Federal Constitution. Criminal law generally falls under the Federal List, while states can legislate on religious offences. He argued that this limits the punishments Syariah courts can impose and has led to state Islamic laws being challenged in court.
In response, G25 Malaysia, a group of Malay civil servants, diplomats and professionals, has called on the Prime Minister, the Attorney General and all political parties seeking to govern, including PAS, to affirm unequivocally that the Federal Constitution is supreme and must remain so.
The very idea of changing the constitutional foundations on which Malaysia was formed should ring alarm bells.
For the record, Act 355 is not a colonial law. It was enacted by Malaysia’s own Parliament in 1965, eight years after Merdeka. Its present sentencing limits were established by Parliament in 1984.
The Ninth Schedule is not a colonial remnant either. It is part of the Federal Constitution itself. It sets out the division of legislative powers between the Federation and the states.
The Civil Law Act 1956 provides for the application of English common law and equity where Malaysian written law does not provide an answer, subject to local circumstances. Parliament remains free to change that law.
These are not remnants of colonial rule. They are part of the legal and constitutional framework through which Malaysia has governed itself.
There is also a fundamental problem with the proposal concerning Act 355.
The Constitution provides that Syariah courts have no jurisdiction over offences except to the extent conferred by federal law.
Act 355 is that federal law.
Repealing it would not, in itself, expand the criminal jurisdiction of the Syariah courts. It would remove the federal statutory basis governing that jurisdiction.
What is being proposed, therefore, goes beyond repealing a law described as colonial. It would alter the constitutional balance between federal and state powers.
That is a much larger question for Malaysia — because it affects the constitutional balance on which the country rests.
Malaysia’s constitutional framework was designed to accommodate a country of different territories, communities and histories.
The formation of Malaysia was grounded in the constitutional arrangements and commitments of the Malaysia Agreement 1963.The division of powers between the Federation and the states was fundamental to that structure.
That framework matters because Malaysia is not a homogeneous society. More than 300 ethnic and sub-ethnic groups live in Malaysia.
Sabah alone has more than 170 sub-ethnic groups, while Sarawak has more than 90 sub-groups. The Orang Asli of Peninsular Malaysia comprise three main groups and 18 sub-groups.
Our differences are real. But so is the Malaysia we share.
We do not experience Malaysia every day as a collection of separate political or legal communities.
We experience it as Malaysians.
This is why constitutional change matters.
The Federal Constitution is not simply a collection of laws. It establishes the institutions and division of powers through which Malaysia is governed.
Changing these arrangements has consequences beyond the individual provisions being challenged.
Repealing the Civil Law Act would affect the statutory basis for applying common law and equity in areas where Parliament has not legislated comprehensively.
Changing the Ninth Schedule would reopen the division of powers between the Federation and the states, including arrangements central to the formation of Malaysia in 1963.
These provisions are part of the constitutional architecture of Malaysia.
There is another reason to be careful about reducing Malaysia to political categories.
Malaysia’s people have spent decades creating connections that cross the boundaries through which politics often asks us to see one another.
In everyday life, those boundaries are often porous. We share workplaces and classrooms, do business with one another, celebrate one another’s festivals and live side by side — often without giving much thought to the political divisions that politics places between us.
This is the Malaysia we know.
It is a Malaysia that is far more complicated — and far more connected — than the political narratives that surround it.
Our differences are constantly visible. Our commonality is often taken for granted.
The question before us is therefore larger than whether particular laws should be retained or repealed. It is about what kind of country we want to leave to the next generation.
The Federal Constitution is the common framework that allows people with different identities, histories and beliefs to belong to the same country.
A constitutional settlement that belongs to all Malaysians should not be dismissed as ‘colonial’ simply because it places limits on what any one political movement may seek to change.
The third principle of the Rukun Negara is Keluhuran Perlembagaan — the supremacy of the Constitution.
It is not a ceremonial phrase. It is central to what makes Malaysia possible.
The supremacy of the Constitution means that Malaysia belongs to all its citizens — and that no one stands above the law that binds us together.
Ultimately, the Malaysia we built is larger than the political arguments of any one moment.
* This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail.
