OPINION | When Coffee Becomes a Racial Issue, Somebody Is Brewing Trouble

Malaysia's #1 Content Aggregator


OPINION | When Coffee Becomes a Racial Issue, Somebody Is Brewing Trouble

23 Oct 2026 • 8:00 AM MYT

Mihar Dias


https://amp.scmp.com/week-asia/lifestyle-culture/article/3371474/how-malaysian-coffee-shop-menu-became-latest-political-battleground

By Mihar Dias October 2026


In Malaysia, you can get into trouble for saying the wrong thing, wearing the wrong thing, supporting the wrong person and, apparently, ordering the right thing from the wrong menu.



Welcome to the wonderful world of Malaysian politics, where even a cup of coffee can acquire racial, cultural and electoral significance.


The latest victim of our national obsession is Oriental Kopi, the homegrown coffee-shop chain whose menu has attracted controversy because it features English and Chinese but omits Bahasa Melayu. According to the South China Morning Post, the omission has prompted calls for a boycott and reignited arguments about race, national identity and the status of the national language. https://amp.scmp.com/week-asia/lifestyle-culture/article/3371474/how-malaysian-coffee-shop-menu-became-latest-political-battleground



The timing is interesting. Melaka goes to the polls on November 14. Suddenly, a menu is no longer merely a menu. It has become a potential manifesto, a test of patriotism and an opportunity for politicians to demonstrate their commitment to defending Malay identity.


One wonders what would happen if somebody discovered that a politician's favourite restaurant had no Malay translations on its menu. Would the politician boycott the restaurant, or would the restaurant be declared a threat to national unity?



In Malaysia, never underestimate the political possibilities of a misplaced noun.


The customers have already voted with their wallets.


Here lies the delicious irony.


Oriental Kopi reportedly attracts substantial numbers of Malay customers. They queue for its food, enjoy its coffee and spend their money there. They do not appear to require a political scientist to explain the cultural implications of ordering an egg tart.


They go because they like what the establishment offers.


This is what the marketplace is supposed to do. Customers choose where to eat, what to buy and how much they are prepared to pay. They make decisions based on taste, price, convenience, service and the experience they receive.



They do not necessarily consult a racial manifesto before deciding whether to have breakfast.


Apparently, however, some people have decided that the absence of Bahasa Melayu from a menu is sufficient reason to question the establishment's national credentials.


Bahasa Melayu is our national language. Its presence in the public life of Malaysia deserves respect, and businesses serving Malaysians have perfectly good reasons to make their menus accessible in the national language. Including Malay would be sensible, inclusive and commercially practical.



But there is a difference between asking a business to improve and turning its shortcomings into a racial confrontation.


One approach solves a problem. The other manufactures one.


Why the selective outrage?


If the concern is genuinely about the dignity of Bahasa Melayu, then let us apply the same principle consistently.


Are all restaurants and coffee shops being examined for their language choices? Are businesses that use English predominantly being subjected to the same scrutiny? Are we going to audit every menu, signboard and advertising campaign in the country?



Or is the indignation reserved for a particular establishment when its controversy happens to be politically convenient?


Consistency is the inconvenient test of sincerity.


It is easy to champion a cause when the target is popular, the outrage is contagious and the political rewards are potentially attractive. It is considerably harder to apply the same standards to everybody, including one's friends, supporters and commercial interests.


The national language should not need a general election to remind businesses of its importance.



Nor should every omission require a boycott before somebody notices it.


Enter the guardians of national identity.


As the Melaka election approaches, the temptation to exploit an emotional issue is obvious. The SCMP report places the controversy against the backdrop of political competition for Malay support.


This is hardly a uniquely Malaysian phenomenon. Politicians everywhere discover causes that can be converted into votes. The difference is that in Malaysia, the list of potentially combustible subjects is long enough to keep an entire industry of political opportunists employed.



A language issue can become a racial issue. A racial issue can become a question of loyalty. And a question of loyalty can become an electoral weapon.


By the time the argument has travelled through social media, a coffee-shop menu may be carrying more political baggage than the customers sitting at its tables.


Meanwhile, the original problem remains remarkably simple: the menu does not include Bahasa Melayu.


Fortunately, the solution does not require a parliamentary select committee, a royal commission or a national unity summit.



Print a better menu.


Oriental Kopi's founder, Calvin Chan, has apologised and indicated that improvements are being made. That is a reasonable response to reasonable criticism. The company can demonstrate its commitment by following through.


Customers can then decide whether the revised menu meets their expectations. Those who remain dissatisfied are free to take their business elsewhere.


That is how adults resolve commercial disagreements.


Patriotism is not a breakfast special.


There is something deeply revealing about a society that repeatedly confuses symbols with substance.



We can argue passionately about which language appears on a menu while overlooking more consequential questions about the quality of education, the cost of living, public accountability and whether institutions are serving the people they are supposed to serve.


We can demand visible demonstrations of patriotism from a business while remaining remarkably tolerant of shortcomings in other areas of public life.


A translated menu is useful. It makes customers feel included and allows them to understand what they are ordering. But it is not a certificate of moral character.



Likewise, the absence of a translation does not, by itself, establish hostility towards a language, a community or a country.


Businesses should be judged by their conduct, their service and their willingness to correct legitimate shortcomings. Politicians should be judged by their performance, their integrity and the quality of their policies.


Neither should be allowed to escape scrutiny simply because the public is busy arguing about something else.


After more than five decades observing human behaviour in organisations and society, I have learnt that people are remarkably good at turning small problems into large dramas when there is something to gain from doing so.



Sometimes it is ego. Sometimes it is attention. Sometimes it is the prospect of political advantage.


And sometimes, all three are served in the same cup.


Malaysia does not need to choose between respecting Bahasa Melayu and enjoying a cup of coffee at Oriental Kopi. We can do both without difficulty.


So, by all means, improve the menu. Respect the national language. Make customers feel welcome.


But let us not pretend that a missing translation is proof of a national crisis.


In Malaysia, the coffee may be Oriental, the menu may be bilingual, but the politics is always served with an extra shot of racial anxiety.