The Peranakan Chinese, once folded into broader categories, now reclaim their civic identity — and remind Malaysia that hybridity is heritage.
By Dr Mohd Safar Hasim, Malaysian Press Institute (MPI)
In 1894, the Baba Nyonya community in Singapore launched Bintang Timor, the first Malay-language newspaper written in romanised script (Rumi).
Though imperfect in spelling and grammar, it was a bold act of civic authorship. Its colloquial Malay reflected the spoken idiom of the Peranakan Chinese — a creole register shaped by multilingual homes, English-medium education, and deep local roots.
Two decades earlier, another Peranakan community, established the Jawi Peranakan in 1876. It was published in Jawi script by the Indian Muslim Peranakan community. While Jawi Peranakan spoke to a Jawi-literate audience, Bintang Timor carved out a space for those excluded from that literacy — yet fluent in Malay and modernity.
Fast forward to 2025, and the Baba Nyonya have once again made history. The Malaysian government has announced that beginning Jan 1, 2026, Peranakan Chinese will be able to amend their birth certificates so that their ethnicity is recorded not simply as “Chinese,” but as Baba Nyonya. This means individuals can formally register “Baba Nyonya” as their ethnic identity in official documents — a tangible shift from symbolic recognition to administrative reality.
What may seem like a bureaucratic tweak is, in fact, a profound restoration of dignity. It is the return of a brushstroke long erased from the national mural.
Naming the Hybrid
For decades, official documents reduced the Baba Nyonya to a sub-category of “Chinese.”
This flattening mirrored Malaysia’s racial framework: Malay, Chinese, Indian, Others. But the lived reality of the Peranakan Chinese never fit neatly into these boxes. They spoke Malay at home, cooked fusion dishes, and practiced rituals that blended Chinese and local customs.
The new ruling acknowledges what history has always known: that the Baba Nyonya are not simply “Chinese with local flavour,” but a community with its own civic story. Just as Bintang Timor once gave them a voice in print, the birth certificate now gives them recognition in law.
A Parallel Memorandum
This moment echoes another act of civic assertion. In 1956–57, as the Reid Commission drafted the Constitution of Malaya, the Eurasian Union of Malaya submitted one of the most detailed memoranda — thick, bound, and meticulously argued.
Like the Baba Nyonya, the Eurasian community feared being erased in a nation framed around three major races.
Their memorandum demanded citizenship rights, cultural recognition, and fair representation. Today, the Eurasian population is smaller — perhaps 30,000 to 60,000 — but their heritage remains vibrant, especially in Melaka’s Portuguese Settlement.
Both communities remind us that Malaysia’s story is not written in three colours alone. It is a tapestry of hybrid identities, each with its own civic memory.
Counting Everyone, Not “Others”
The use of “Others” or “Lain-lain” in official documents continues to marginalise citizens whose identities fall outside dominant categories. This includes not only Eurasians, Chitty, and Orang Asli sub-groups in Peninsular Malaysia, but also the rich mosaic of ethnic communities in Sarawak and Sabah — such as the Bidayuh, Melanau, Kadazan-Dusun, andMurut — who are often collapsed into generic labels. Each of these communities carries its own language, heritage, and civic story. Amending official documents to reflect their actual names is more than administrative accuracy; it is a recognition of dignity. A nation that names its people fully is a nation that values them fully.
From Newspaper to Nationhood
When the Baba Nyonya launched Bintang Timor, they were saying: we exist, we matter, and we will speak in our own voice. Today, the birth certificate echoes that same declaration. It is the state’s way of saying: yes, you exist, you matter, and your identity will be recorded in your own name.
And here lies the irony of history: thanks to the Baba Nyonya’s early experiment with romanised Malay, the Malay language itself eventually shifted into Rumi. What began as a Peranakan necessity became a national standard, culminating in Berita Harian (1957), the first major Rumi Malay daily.
The journey from Bintang Timor to the birth certificate is more than a historical arc. It is a reminder that identity, once erased, can be restored; that voices, once marginalised, can be heard again.
For the Baba Nyonya, it is the return of a long-forgotten brushstroke. For Malaysia, it is an invitation to paint its national mural with greater honesty, depth, and colour — and to ensure that no citizen is ever again reduced to “Others.”
The views expressed here are entirely those of Dr Mohd Safar Hasim, a Council Member of the Malaysian Press Institute
WE