Kuala Lumpur was strikingly similar to Bangkok in many ways. Ultra-modern infrastructure, skyscrapers, and massive shopping centres, right next to tattered, grimy streets in oppressive tropical heat. But there was a key difference: where Bangkok had the shining spires of Buddhist temples and the Grand Palace, Kuala Lumpur had mosques, Hindu temples, and at least one Chinese clan house. A clan house is a centre for a Chinese clan’s organisation, and the elaborately-decorated one I saw was not the only sign of Chinese presence that I noticed in Malaysia – on the way to Taman Negara, we passed more Chinese buildings that seemed to be temples. Then there were all the Chinese restaurants. It didn’t quite add up. Malaysia was fairly similar to Thailand, with the skyscrapers and inequality within the capital cities and the jungle hills outside, but a major difference was the strong presence of Islam, in the form of mosques and hijabs. This was all expected – both countries are in Southeast Asia, and is one majority-Buddhist, while the is other majority-Muslim. But another major difference was the Chinese buildings, which I didn’t see in Thailand. This was not expected, and it made no sense – I was already aware that Thailand also has a substantial Chinese population. So, two Southeast Asian countries with a strong ethnic Chinese presence, but it’s far more visible in one than the other. Why?
Despite being neighbours, Thailand and Malaysia have very different origins. The latter was formed by post-colonial independence from the British Empire in the 1957, while the former first emerged as a medieval kingdom, and was never colonised. Likewise, their relationship with the Chinese also differ. There were known to be Chinese communities in Malacca – one of the pre-colonial states that preceded what is now Malaysia – in the early 15th century, attracted by trade. Meanwhile, there have been Chinese settlers in the region of Thailand since the 13th century, soon after the Thai themselves arrived in the area, having been pushed south from their original homelands in what is now southern China by conflict with the Mongol-Chinese Yuan dynasty in the late 12th century. Later centuries of the Thai state were spent as a tributary of the Chinese empire, and waves of Chinese immigration kept coming to both Thailand and what would become Malaysia.
The latter emerged, many centuries and several European conquests later, out of the patchwork of Malays, immigrants – both Chinese and South Asian – and smaller native groups in 1957 as the “Federation of Malaya”, later adding provinces in northern Borneo in 1963 and becoming “Malaysia”. As was the case with African states that were created by the post-colonial independence process, the identity of this new country, with its diverse population, was built on shaky ground. The resulting interethnic tensions over matters like languages in education and the rights and privileges granted to different groups (with the favouritism shown to Malays a particular sticking point), erupted in race riots in 1969. With a multiethnic party now in power, the tensions seem to have subsided (mostly, at least), and the Malaysia I saw certainly looked like it embraced its diverse heritage.
It is known, through the Malaysian categorisation of its ethnicities, that 20.6% of the population identifies as being Chinese. Thailand does not collect data on ethnicity, so it is only an estimate that around 12% of the population is of Chinese descent. Or at least, have a significant amount of Chinese ancestry. While some Malaysian Chinese integrated into Malay culture, speaking Malay and adopting Malaysian cuisine and dress (known as the “Baba” or “Peranakan” Chinese), in Thailand, this is the norm. In fact, the Chinese of Thailand are considered the most integrated in Southeast Asia. The Malaysian Chinese form their own group, still sharply defined as a cultural unit by language and clans and political interests, while the Thai Chinese married into Thai families and adopted the local language and customs to become a hybrid culture. Maybe their integration was easier because they immigrated into an already-established kingdom of a people, who being originally from southern China themselves, they may already had some familiarity with, rather than immigrating further south, to the disparate states that were later united into a country by the aftermath of colonisation.
Regardless of the precise reason, this is why, in Kuala Lumpur, I saw a huge Chinese clan house, covered in sculptures of dragons, while in Bangkok, I saw a small Chinese-style shrine in the corner of a restaurant, with an offering of water in the Thai fashion. It seems a counter-intuitive detail that it may have been the greater familiarity between the Thai and the Chinese that resulted in Thailand’s Chinese becoming less visible, while Malaysia’s less integrated Chinese heritage is more openly displayed. It’s also impossible to tell if this is a good thing or not.
Sources: CIA World Factbook / The Chinese in Southeast Asia and beyond: socioeconomic and political dimensions by Qinhuang Yan (2008) / A History of Thailand by Christopher John Baker and Pasuk Phongpaichit (2014) / Thailand: Economic, Political and Social Issues by Randle C. Zebioli (2009) / Chinese Overseas: Comparative Cultural Issues by Chee-Beng Tan (2004) / Dr Yi Li of Aberystwyth University (albeit over her shoulder while she was walking away – still valid!)
Wandering/Wondering 