Even in countries such as India and China, he said, places of worship may only be built on legally approved sites. That comparison was deliberate: it signalled that Malaysia’s position does not stand outside regional norms. The rule that sacred space must comply with land and planning law is not unusual. 

It is standard practice across countries that take governance seriously. But the way different countries manage this tension between faith and regulation offers important lessons. India presents one path, China presents another. Neither offers a blueprint, both offer warnings.

India: law as shield — and battleground

India enacted the Places of Worship Act in 1991 to freeze the religious character of places of worship as they stood at independence. The aim was to prevent historical grievances from spilling endlessly into modern disputes. The law sought to draw a legal line and protect public order. That move showed foresight. It recognised that unresolved religious claims can destabilise a plural society.

Yet India also shows how disputes can shift into the courts and into politics. Even with legal safeguards, contested sites have triggered prolonged litigation and street mobilisation. Local politics often shapes enforcement. Court decisions sometimes settle matters, but not always public sentiment. The lesson here is not that law fails. It is that law must operate within trusted institutions.

When people believe enforcement bends to political pressure, even sound legislation struggles. India also reminds us of the importance of heritage protection. Many sites carry historical and cultural meaning beyond their religious function. Preserving them strengthens national identity. Ignoring that dimension fuels resentment. Malaysia can draw from this experience. Clear legal status matters, so does credible administration.

China: order through control

China approaches the issue differently. It requires strict registration of religious organisations and tightly regulates construction. Unauthorised structures rarely survive long. The country exercises firm oversight over land use and religious activity. This approach produces visible order. It reduces ambiguity and sends a strong signal that no religious activity falls outside regulatory frameworks.

But the cost is equally visible. Heavy control narrows religious space and places significant authority in state hands. Communities comply, but not always with confidence. Malaysia is not China. Nor should it seek that model. Order achieved through rigid control may prevent disorder, but it can also suppress trust. Still, China illustrates one reality clearly: governments that enforce land law consistently avoid the perception that sacred status overrides civic rules.

Malaysia’s middle path

Malaysia stands between these two approaches. It does not freeze history in law as India attempted. It does not centralise religious administration as China does. Instead, it operates within a constitutional framework that recognises Islam as the religion of the Federation while protecting the rights of other faiths.

That balance requires discipline. Anwar’s warning about unchecked structures addresses a genuine concern. When informal sites multiply without approval, authorities lose oversight. Landowners lose clarity, and communities lose predictability. But enforcement must reflect Malaysia’s character.

This country thrives on negotiation, documentation and local engagement. It resolves disputes through committees, not commands. That tradition is a strength, not a weakness. Malaysia can succeed if it pairs firm standards with transparent process. First, the federal government should define compliance criteria clearly and publish them.

When communities understand the benchmarks — land title, safety standards, planning approval — they can respond accordingly. Second, authorities should handle long-standing cases differently from new violations. History does not excuse illegality, but it does shape context. A shrine that stood quietly for 100 years requires careful handling, not abrupt removal.

Third, heritage assessment must play a central role. Some temples represent the journeys of plantation workers, traders and migrants who built modern Malaysia. Demolishing such sites without review erases part of the national story. Fourth, councils must apply standards consistently. A temple in one district cannot face harsher action than a similar structure elsewhere. Uneven enforcement breeds suspicion. None of this weakens the rule of law. It strengthens it.

Why regional comparisons matter

By referencing India and China, Anwar reframed the debate. He reminded Malaysians that regulated worship is normal. Sacred space does not sit outside civic order anywhere in Asia. The comparison also tempers emotional reaction. It shows that requiring legal approval is not hostility toward faith. It is governance. But comparisons also warn us against extremes.

India demonstrates how unresolved disputes can become political flashpoints. China demonstrates how excessive control can narrow space for trust. Malaysia must avoid both traps. It must enforce the law without theatrical displays. It must regularise where possible. It must relocate only when necessary, and it must always communicate decisions clearly. The aim is not to win an argument but to preserve harmony while restoring order.

A moment for measured leadership

Religious issues test the maturity of a nation. They stir memory and identity, they invite opportunists to inflame sentiment, and they tempt governments to act quickly for the sake of optics. Measured leadership resists that temptation. If Putrajaya sets clear national standards and insists on consistent application, it will stabilise the issue.

If councils document decisions and explain them publicly, suspicion will fade. India and China show that regulation is normal. They also show that trust determines whether regulation succeeds. Malaysia’s strength lies in its plural society and its constitutional framework. That framework already contains the answer: rights exist within law; law exists to protect rights.

Firm standards, careful execution and equal treatment. That is the middle path.