From Dave AnanthYou would think that after six generations, people would have figured out that race and religion aren’t choices you make, like picking a favourite colour or TV channel. But no.Welcome to Malaysia, where your skin colour, your last name, and the mosque or temple you attend are treated like political weapons, social barricades, and personal verdicts on your worth. It is baffling, infuriating, and frankly, a little exhausting.Here’s the kicker: none of it is your fault. You didn’t choose your parents, their ethnicity, or their beliefs. Yet somehow, the country has decided that these inherited labels define you forever.And if you’re unlucky enough to be born into one group, well, buckle up. Because in Malaysia, that means your life is pre-scripted by racism, suspicion, and a bizarre obsession with “protecting” your race and religion at all costs — even if it means tearing the nation apart.What is going on here? Is this some grand plan masterminded by politicians, or just a collective failure of society? Maybe it’s a bit of both.But one thing is clear: the racial and religious fault lines in Malaysia are not just cracks — they are gaping chasms.Let’s call it what it is. The constant equation of accidents, misfortunes, and societal problems with race or religion isn’t just ignorant — it’s toxic.When a tragedy occurs, it is not about humanity or shared grief. Nope. It is immediately weaponised into a racial blame game that leaves everyone more divided and bitter. As if God, whoever or whatever that might be, is keeping score based on race or faith.Spoiler alert: that’s not how spirituality works anywhere sane.The sad truth is that this obsession with race and religion is so ingrained it feels almost untouchable. Are our schools failing us? Are the universities churning out PhDs in ethnic division?Because the education system, which should be building bridges, seems to be building walls instead. It is like the curriculum forgot the part about unity and collective progress and jumped straight to “Here’s why your neighbour is your enemy”.And yes, you might hear the name Dr Mahathir Mohamad thrown around like a punchline in this debate.The former prime minister’s policies and rhetoric have left a complicated legacy — some say he stoked the fires of racial politics to consolidate power, others argue he was just playing the political game everyone else was playing. Whatever the truth, the impact remains.Racism isn’t a relic of the past; it’s very much alive, breathing down Malaysia’s neck like a bad smell no one wants to admit.Now, imagine being part of this tangled mess. You grow up hearing whispers and shouts about how your community is “different”, “privileged”, “oppressed”, or “dangerous”.You turn on the radio, scroll through social media, or listen to podcasts in Malay, Tamil, Chinese, and hear the same tired narratives playing out. You wonder, “Is this really the legacy I want to carry? Why must my identity be a source of conflict?”Living abroad, you get a glimpse of something different. It’s not perfect — no place is — but there is at least a chance to be seen as an individual, not a walking racial or religious stereotype.You realise the absurdity of the constant racial scorekeeping back home, and it stings. Because you love Malaysia, but you can’t help feeling like it’s stuck in some kind of racial Groundhog Day, where the same fights are replayed endlessly, and no one wins.Is Malaysia really a racist country? Maybe it’s more accurate to say it’s a country where racism has been institutionalised, normalised, and weaponised to the point people don’t even question it anymore. It’s a national pastime wrapped up in politics, education, and social life — so baked into the culture that calling it out feels like poking a hornet’s nest.So what’s the end game here? If Malaysia keeps spinning this wheel of racial tension, where does it lead? To more distrust, more segregation, more missed opportunities. The potential of a diverse, vibrant society is squandered because everyone is too busy policing each other’s identities like it’s some kind of zero-sum game.It’s tempting to blame politicians or history or education for this mess. But in the end, it’s all of us. Every time we laugh at a racist joke, nod along to a divisive news story, or shrug off hate as “just the way things are,” we are feeding the fire. If Malaysia wants to stop being torn apart by race and religion, it has to start with a brutal honesty about how deep the problem runs — and a willingness to break old habits.That means challenging the ridiculous idea that your race or religion makes you inherently suspect or privileged. It means refusing to let politicians divide us for votes.It means demanding an education system that teaches unity instead of division. And maybe, just maybe, it means looking in the mirror and realising the enemy isn’t the “other” — it’s the racism inside all of us.Malaysia is a beautiful country with a rich mix of peoples and cultures. But that beauty is under threat.If we don’t stop treating race and religion like weapons, we’re not just hurting each other — we’re destroying the very thing that makes Malaysia worth loving.And that would be the biggest tragedy of all. 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.