IN recent years, the topic of constitutional amendments on citizenship in Malaysia has stirred substantial discussion and debate. So much so that it was included in the Pakatan Harapan manifesto in 2022 on guaranteeing citizenship.
The key issues revolve around a few points, such as the disparity in the ability of Malaysian fathers and mothers to confer citizenship to their overseas-born children. This has led to calls for constitutional amendments to ensure gender equality in citizenship transmission.
At the present legislative session, the Constitution (Amendment) Bill 2024 is expected to undergo its second reading after having been tabled for the first reading on March 25. While the proposed amendments to the constitution would make it possible for children born abroad to Malaysian mothers to become citizens, other amendments could disenfranchise certain groups of people.
In Malaysia, where cultures, traditions, and histories intertwine, there exists a group of individuals who embody a paradoxical identity: the stateless Malaysians.
These are people who, despite their undeniable connection to the land and its ethos, bear the burdensome label of being "stateless." It is a term that echoes with legal perplexities while simultaneously negating the warmth of belonging to a nation they call home.
Statelessness, in its barebones essence, is a legal predicament. It arises from the complexities and intricacies of citizenship laws, bureaucratic red tape, and sometimes the historical residue of migration and displacement.
The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) defines a stateless person as someone who is "not considered as a national by any state under the operation of its law." In Malaysia, this translates into lives marred by absent birth certificates, lost records, and stringent applications for citizenship that often seem insurmountable.
On the flip side lies the notion of being Malaysian. This is more than just a matter of citizenship; it is an identity, a state of belonging nurtured by shared experiences, a common language, and cultural pride.
A Malaysian is someone who feels a connection to the harmonious aroma of nasi lemak at dawn and the resplendent sight of the Jalur Gemilang fluttering against a tropical sky.
The dissonance between legal statelessness and national belonging is what creates the heart-wrenching plight of stateless Malaysians. Imagine being raised on the shores of Penang, playing sepak takraw with friends on a lazy Sunday, or celebrating Hari Raya with kin—only to find that your legal papers do not acknowledge your existence as a member of the nation. You are both a part of the fabric and yet alienated from its legal acknowledgment.
People become stateless for a myriad reasons.
Some are born to parents who themselves lack documentation, creating a vicious cycle of non-recognition. Others may find themselves falling through the cracks of a legal system that demands exhaustive proof of ancestry, place of birth, or long-term residency. Complexities heighten for foundlings or children born out of wedlock, who often face labyrinthine procedures to claim their citizenship.
Understanding the nuances of statelessness is crucial if we are to dismantle the stigma surrounding stateless Malaysians. Misconceptions and presumptions frequently cloud the perception of statelessness, which equates a lack of legal status with a lack of worth or belonging.
Yet, understanding that legal nationality and cultural identity can lie on different planes helps in reframing this narrative. Acknowledging that someone can very much be Malaysian in essence—by virtue of heritage, lived experiences, or upbringing—while grappling with legal statelessness can foster empathy and inclusivity.
Imagine cutting the stigma if we shift our lens to see stateless Malaysians as part of the nation rather than anomalous outliers. Imagine a society where we rally for policy changes that ease the stringent citizenship application processes and where Malaysian children are accorded the right to belong legally as well as culturally. Imagine the strength and resilience we can build as a nation that leaves no one on the periphery.
Malaysian identity transcends paperwork and borders. It is sung in the lullabies of mothers, echoed in the laughter of friends, tasted in the myriad flavours of street food, and celebrated in the unity of its people.
While legal reforms are imperative in addressing the statelessness crisis, societal understanding and acceptance play an equally vital role.
So, the next time you meet someone navigating the labyrinth of statelessness, remember: they are as Malaysian as the rainforests that blanket the land and the rain that kisses the earth.
By extending our empathy and broadening our understanding, we not only honour their right to belong but also enrich our collective identity as Malaysians.
Syaza Shukri, PhD, is an associate professor and the current Head at the Department of Political Science, IIUM. The views expressed in this article are the author's own and do not necessarily reflect those of Sinar Daily.