Murray Hunter
Ramasamy on the Urban Development Act and Ministry for Senior Citizens
P Ramasamy
Aug 28, 2025
Urban development a logic of unfettered capitalism
Urban development—along with its inseparable components of redevelopment and regeneration—is a direct consequence of modernisation and urbanisation.
In many developing countries, including Malaysia, urban growth has been largely unplanned, resulting in haphazard and chaotic patterns.
Migration into cities has worsened this situation, leading to overcrowding, the growth of squatter settlements, and the proliferation of unregulated housing. Despite numerous attempts at planning, efforts to bring order to urban growth have proven futile.
Malaysia’s proposed Urban Redevelopment Act (URA) is framed as a corrective measure to this chaos. More than just “development,” the URA claims to focus on redevelopment and regeneration of dilapidated housing areas. While the intention to replace outdated laws and introduce new administrative mechanisms may seem laudable, the proposed framework is riddled with confusion, contradictions, and troubling implications.
The URA sets the following thresholds for homeowner consent in redevelopment projects. For buildings 30 years old, the consent threshold is 80 percent, for buildings more than 30 years, it is 75 percent and 51% for abandoned buildings.
On the surface, these thresholds may appear reasonable. Yet they raise several issues.
First, the 30-year benchmark for occupied buildings is arbitrary and ignores the actual lifespan of homes, which can stretch to 70 years or more. This raises the question: why the rush to prematurely classify homes as ready for redevelopment?
Second, the 51% consent threshold for abandoned buildings effectively strips absentee owners of their rights to contest acquisitions, undermining property rights.
The URA appears to tilt the scales heavily in favour of developers and the state. In theory, homeowner consent is a safeguard. In practice, however, homeowners lack political influence, financial resources, and legal strength. By contrast, developers enjoy vast financial clout, government backing, and access to legal machinery. In such a lopsided environment, the consent thresholds become little more than window dressing.
Urban redevelopment is not a neutral or benevolent exercise—it is a capitalist project. The real beneficiaries are clear: big-time developers and, secondarily, the state through increased tax revenue. Homeowners, especially those from working-class or marginalised backgrounds, stand to lose the most.
It is no coincidence that developers are already lining up to carve out lucrative stakes in Malaysia’s urban redevelopment landscape. The URA, far from being about public good, risks becoming a massive wealth transfer to private developers.
The consequences of the URA extend beyond economics. By breaking up long-standing neighbourhoods, it threatens to erase ethnic enclaves, cultural identities, and heritage sites that make Malaysia’s urban spaces unique. Ironically, a government that thrives on politicising ethnicity and religion may, through this law, obliterate the very enclaves that embody those histories.
The URA is not just flawed legislation; it is a dangerous instrument that could devour history, heritage, and community identity under the banner of “modernisation.” It has rightly earned the moniker: “Developers’ Enrichment Act.”
Malaysians across political and social divides must recognise this looming threat and oppose the URA before it reshapes the urban landscape in the image of profit rather than people.
Can PM Anwar guarantee that gentrification process would not displace the poor Malays?
Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim might be right in saying that his government might not physically displace the Malays from urban areas as a result of the Urban Renewal Act.
However, he doesn’t seem to understand the implications of the gentrification process associated with urban development, redevelopment, and revitalisation.
The poor, especially in major urban areas, have no defence against the powerful forces of developers combined with state power to derail the inimical effects of urbanisation.
Surely, the government might not be directly forcing out the poor and marginalised from their old and worn-out buildings, but the land acquisition thresholds—80 percent consent for buildings under 30 years, 75 percent for buildings above 30 years, and 51 percent for abandoned buildings—might look good on paper.
Unfortunately, the owners of dilapidated buildings might not have the unity or financial strength to thwart the nefarious ways of developers.
Once the buildings or the land on them are acquired under these thresholds, there is nothing the affected owners can do to alter the course or direction of the gentrification process.
Even if owners secure a better deal in the new urbanisation, the gentrification process unleashed by capitalist forces will slowly but surely drive out the former inhabitants from their traditional places.
Areas with high concentrations of Malays and Indians will be most affected by this process, which will operate independently of the motives of both developers and the state.
Malay and Indian enclaves around major urban areas will, within a matter of time, be replaced by modern high-rise buildings with new owners—especially those who can afford the costs of new apartments.
Malays and Indians may not be literally chased away, and some may even profit from the sale of their properties, but they would have lost their place in the sprawling urban landscape.
Urban development or renewal is not without costs. Beyond displacing old residents, the ethnic, cultural, and heritage landscapes that once defined these areas would vanish.
Certainly, the government requires legislation such as the URA to bring about urban development, redevelopment, and revitalisation in order to modernise the nation’s urban landscapes.
Unfortunately, there has been little to no research examining the costs associated with this nefarious capitalism of urban development.
The government’s natural tendency to rely on private developers for the successful implementation of the URA is fraught with problems of enormous magnitude.
The migration of rural Malays and Indian estate workers into urban dwellings, along with their culture, ethnicity, and heritage, now stands endangered by the URA.
Yes, Anwar is right in saying that the URA might not physically displace the Malays. But can he at the same time guarantee that the gentrification process, unleashed by the combined forces of private capital and the state, will not displace the Malays—especially the poor and marginalised?
Aug 28, 2025
Urban development a logic of unfettered capitalism
Urban development—along with its inseparable components of redevelopment and regeneration—is a direct consequence of modernisation and urbanisation.
In many developing countries, including Malaysia, urban growth has been largely unplanned, resulting in haphazard and chaotic patterns.
Migration into cities has worsened this situation, leading to overcrowding, the growth of squatter settlements, and the proliferation of unregulated housing. Despite numerous attempts at planning, efforts to bring order to urban growth have proven futile.
Malaysia’s proposed Urban Redevelopment Act (URA) is framed as a corrective measure to this chaos. More than just “development,” the URA claims to focus on redevelopment and regeneration of dilapidated housing areas. While the intention to replace outdated laws and introduce new administrative mechanisms may seem laudable, the proposed framework is riddled with confusion, contradictions, and troubling implications.
The URA sets the following thresholds for homeowner consent in redevelopment projects. For buildings 30 years old, the consent threshold is 80 percent, for buildings more than 30 years, it is 75 percent and 51% for abandoned buildings.
On the surface, these thresholds may appear reasonable. Yet they raise several issues.
First, the 30-year benchmark for occupied buildings is arbitrary and ignores the actual lifespan of homes, which can stretch to 70 years or more. This raises the question: why the rush to prematurely classify homes as ready for redevelopment?
Second, the 51% consent threshold for abandoned buildings effectively strips absentee owners of their rights to contest acquisitions, undermining property rights.
The URA appears to tilt the scales heavily in favour of developers and the state. In theory, homeowner consent is a safeguard. In practice, however, homeowners lack political influence, financial resources, and legal strength. By contrast, developers enjoy vast financial clout, government backing, and access to legal machinery. In such a lopsided environment, the consent thresholds become little more than window dressing.
Urban redevelopment is not a neutral or benevolent exercise—it is a capitalist project. The real beneficiaries are clear: big-time developers and, secondarily, the state through increased tax revenue. Homeowners, especially those from working-class or marginalised backgrounds, stand to lose the most.
It is no coincidence that developers are already lining up to carve out lucrative stakes in Malaysia’s urban redevelopment landscape. The URA, far from being about public good, risks becoming a massive wealth transfer to private developers.
The consequences of the URA extend beyond economics. By breaking up long-standing neighbourhoods, it threatens to erase ethnic enclaves, cultural identities, and heritage sites that make Malaysia’s urban spaces unique. Ironically, a government that thrives on politicising ethnicity and religion may, through this law, obliterate the very enclaves that embody those histories.
The URA is not just flawed legislation; it is a dangerous instrument that could devour history, heritage, and community identity under the banner of “modernisation.” It has rightly earned the moniker: “Developers’ Enrichment Act.”
Malaysians across political and social divides must recognise this looming threat and oppose the URA before it reshapes the urban landscape in the image of profit rather than people.
Can PM Anwar guarantee that gentrification process would not displace the poor Malays?
Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim might be right in saying that his government might not physically displace the Malays from urban areas as a result of the Urban Renewal Act.
However, he doesn’t seem to understand the implications of the gentrification process associated with urban development, redevelopment, and revitalisation.
The poor, especially in major urban areas, have no defence against the powerful forces of developers combined with state power to derail the inimical effects of urbanisation.
Surely, the government might not be directly forcing out the poor and marginalised from their old and worn-out buildings, but the land acquisition thresholds—80 percent consent for buildings under 30 years, 75 percent for buildings above 30 years, and 51 percent for abandoned buildings—might look good on paper.
Unfortunately, the owners of dilapidated buildings might not have the unity or financial strength to thwart the nefarious ways of developers.
Once the buildings or the land on them are acquired under these thresholds, there is nothing the affected owners can do to alter the course or direction of the gentrification process.
Even if owners secure a better deal in the new urbanisation, the gentrification process unleashed by capitalist forces will slowly but surely drive out the former inhabitants from their traditional places.
Areas with high concentrations of Malays and Indians will be most affected by this process, which will operate independently of the motives of both developers and the state.
Malay and Indian enclaves around major urban areas will, within a matter of time, be replaced by modern high-rise buildings with new owners—especially those who can afford the costs of new apartments.
Malays and Indians may not be literally chased away, and some may even profit from the sale of their properties, but they would have lost their place in the sprawling urban landscape.
Urban development or renewal is not without costs. Beyond displacing old residents, the ethnic, cultural, and heritage landscapes that once defined these areas would vanish.
Certainly, the government requires legislation such as the URA to bring about urban development, redevelopment, and revitalisation in order to modernise the nation’s urban landscapes.
Unfortunately, there has been little to no research examining the costs associated with this nefarious capitalism of urban development.
The government’s natural tendency to rely on private developers for the successful implementation of the URA is fraught with problems of enormous magnitude.
The migration of rural Malays and Indian estate workers into urban dwellings, along with their culture, ethnicity, and heritage, now stands endangered by the URA.
Yes, Anwar is right in saying that the URA might not physically displace the Malays. But can he at the same time guarantee that the gentrification process, unleashed by the combined forces of private capital and the state, will not displace the Malays—especially the poor and marginalised?
A ministry for senior citizens: Is It necessary now?
A separate ministry for senior citizens on the face of it might sound something that is attractive and acceptable.
Considering the aging population of the country is on the rise, there are expectations that a separate full-fledged ministry for senior citizens might be something needed.
Some have expressed support for the idea of a ministry while there are detractors who argue that a separate ministry might end up duplicating the efforts of other ministries.
Looking into the welfare and wellbeing of senior citizens is something significant.
The country has to take care of their wellbeing given their past contributions.
I am not saying that a separate ministry at this juncture will be able to comprehensively examine the various dimensions of the needs of the senior citizens.
Those who are calling for the establishment of a separate ministry might think that such an effort will be able to streamline the government services to the aged.
Even without a centralised ministry, the multiple services offered by the government by way of different departments seem to be problematic.
Essentially, if there is political will, the present provision of services to senior citizens can be improved and rendered effective.
The creation of a centralised ministry is not the solution as long as the government seeks to increase the bureaucratisation of the services to the aged.
Isn’t it better for the social and welfare services of the government to make a comprehensive study of the need for a minister for the senior citizens of the country, considering that they might not be a tiny minority in two decades or so?
The Malaysian government should not put the cart before the horse. The common propensity to create something without a proper or serious study must be avoided at all costs.
A ministry might be necessary at some point in time. The question is whether it is necessary at the moment.
No comments:
Post a Comment