From Dave Ananth

Watching Malaysia’s badminton stars — Pearly Tan, M Thinaah, Goh Sze Fei, and Nur Izzuddin Rumsani — compete is more than a spectacle of athleticism.

It is a vivid demonstration of what Malaysia could and should be: a nation united beyond race, religion, or ethnicity, bound by shared passion, teamwork, and pride.

These young athletes, Indian, Chinese, Malay, stand side by side, communicating without words, defending their country as one.

For those who grew up in Malaysia or once called it home, this unity rekindles hope and pride. Yet, it also painfully exposes what has been lost beyond the courts.

I watched this display “live” from Auckland, New Zealand. It was impossible not to notice the stark contrast between the harmony on the court and the discord that grips Malaysia’s political and social landscape.

The nation these players represent with such fierce pride is being torn apart by forces wielded by politicians who have, for decades, exploited the divisive race card.

The camaraderie of the badminton arena stands in sharp relief against a political environment where suspicion, segregation, and ethnic polarisation are actively cultivated.

To understand the gravity of this loss, we must look back to the era when Malaysian badminton was dominated by legends like Lee Chong Wei, the Sidek brothers — Jalani, Razif, Misbun — and Cheah Soon Kit.

These players transcended ethnic boundaries and symbolised what Malaysians could achieve when united by a common goal. Their victories were not just about sport; they were about national pride, and a collective identity rooted in unity.

Going further back, pioneers like Wong Peng Soon, Tan Aik Huang, and Punch Gunalan laid the foundation in the 1960s and 70s.

Wong’s smooth technique and tactical genius won him All England titles, placing Malaysia on the global badminton map when few others had. Tan’s elegant yet aggressive style earned him the prestigious All England title in 1966, inspiring a generation. Punch embodied grit and versatility in the 70s, securing Malaysia’s presence at the highest levels of the sport with a relentless spirit.

These figures weren’t simply athletes; they were ambassadors of a united Malaysia, inspiring pride across racial lines long before politics sought to divide the nation.

Today, that spirit still burns brightly on the courts. Pearly , Thinaah, Goh and Izzuddin are more than athletes; they are living proof that Malaysia’s diversity can be its greatest strength. Their seamless communication — verbal, mental, physical — demonstrates that race or ethnicity need not determine loyalty or teamwork.

The crowd’s reaction is telling, hijab-wearing Malays, ethnic Chinese, Indians, all cheering together, their differences momentarily set aside, united by the thrill of the game and love for their country.

Yet, outside this arena, political leaders have done everything to undermine that unity. Instead of nurturing a shared Malaysian identity, they exploit ethnic divisions, stoking fear, resentment, and rivalry.

The race card has become a default tactic, deployed shamelessly to maintain power and control. This strategy fractures society, turning neighbours into suspects, friends into foes, and citizens into competing factions.

At the core of this destructive cycle lies a failure of leadership and vision. Politicians find it easier to manipulate identities than to pursue inclusive policies or build bridges across communities.

The temptation to secure votes by appealing to narrow ethnic interests overrides any sense of national unity or common purpose. The result is a country where mistrust festers, genuine collaboration is rare, and social cohesion deteriorates.

The example set by Malaysia’s badminton team could not be clearer. On the court, race is irrelevant. What matters is teamwork, communication, and shared goals.

The athletes’ ability to look beyond ethnic lines and work as one offers a powerful lesson: unity is not a pipe dream. Malaysia’s diversity can be a source of strength, not division.

Why then does this spirit fail to extend beyond sports? Why cannot the same shared identity, trust, and respect that drives these players also bind the broader Malaysian society?

The answer lies in decades of political choices. Instead of building a Malaysia that embraces all its people equally, politicians have entrenched ethnic-based policies that reinforce divisions.

They have weaponised race to distract from governance failures, economic inequality, and corruption. In doing so, they sacrifice national cohesion for short-term political gain.

Rebuilding Malaysia’s social fabric demands a reckoning. The country must reject the politics of division and embrace a new narrative — one that celebrates unity in diversity, values every Malaysian equally, and recognises strength in collaboration rather than segregation. This will require courage from leaders willing to place the nation above narrow interests and from citizens prepared to demand better.

Malaysia’s current generation of badminton players offers more than medals; they offer a blueprint for a united nation. Their passion and teamwork challenge the destructive politics that have pulled the country apart. They demonstrate that the bonds between Malaysians can be strong, resilient, and victorious.

Ultimately, the choice rests with Malaysia’s people: to continue down the path of division and distrust, or to embrace unity and shared pride. The badminton court has already made its choice clear. It is time the rest of the country did the same.

Watching these players fight for Malaysia, I am reminded of what once was and what could be again. The hope is that this spirit will inspire not just cheers in stadiums, but a genuine commitment to rebuild the nation’s social fabric — stronger, more inclusive, and unbreakably united.

Dave Ananth is a former Malaysian magistrate and lawyer.

The views expressed are those of the writer and do not necessarily reflect those of FMT.