KOTA BHARU, Kelantan – Chinese wedding dinners in the Malaysian state of Kelantan have become a little less effervescent in the last few years. Instead of beer or champagne, the beverage of choice now is Coke or Chinese tea.
Susan, an ethnic Chinese hotel executive in the state capital, Kota Bharu, pointed to a 2024 policy by the Kelantan government that forces Chinese-owned kopitiams, bakeries and restaurants to obtain halal certification if they serve Muslim customers – even if their owners are not Muslim.
“Customers previously were able to bring their own alcohol to weddings at hotels, but they are no longer able to because of the strict halal requirements,” said Susan, who asked to be identified only by her first name out of fear of speaking up against the state government.
“Hotels have to be halal-certified to get business from the state and government agencies,” she told The Straits Times when it visited in December 2025.
This tightening grip on non-Muslim spaces seems at odds with Kelantan’s own symbols of inter-faith accommodation, such as that epitomised by the Sultan Ismail Petra Mosque, near the Malaysian-Thai border, just over 40km from Kota Bharu.
Breaking the monotony of padi fields and Malay villages, its architecture is distinctly Chinese, the green, glazed roof tiles arranged in sweeping, upturned eaves, and the red-accented structural beams typical of Chinese temples.
But on Friday afternoons, throngs of Malay men in kopiah (skullcaps) and sarongs congregate here as the call to prayer blares from speakers.
The mosque is known to local residents as the “Beijing Mosque”. Built by the state in 2005 to commemorate the silver jubilee of the then sultan’s reign, its design was proposed by the late Kelantan Menteri Besar Nik Abdul Aziz Nik Mat based on a belief that Islam is a religion for all races.
The gap between the dry wedding receptions described by Susan and the Beijing Mosque captures Kelantan’s central paradox: a Chinese minority that spent generations striving for integration under Islamist rule is now facing both regulatory encroachment and economic exodus.


Under Parti Islam SeMalaysia (PAS), now Malaysia’s largest single party in Parliament with 43 seats and federal ambitions, Kelantan offers the only long-term model in Malaysia of how political Islam actually governs minorities – and whether cultural tolerance can survive when prosperity does not follow.
Despite the state’s claims that its Islamic policies apply only to the Muslim majority, “there seems to be an encroachment into Chinese spaces in Kelantan that never used to exist before”, said historian Eddin Khoo, noting that this started four or five years ago.
In the lead-up to the 2018 General Election, PAS shifted from a fairly moderate stance to a more nationalist line and made a stronger push for an Islamic state.
“I think that might be affecting Chinese attitudes about what their future in the state would be,” said Mr Khoo.
Chinese villages in Kelantan are located near the Kelantan River
Ethnic Malays form more than 96% of Kelantan’s population
Roots deeper than politics
Tucked into the north-eastern corner of Peninsular Malaysia, Kelantan is often described as the very core of the Malay belt. Its culture is distinct even among Malaysia’s 18 million Malays, and its dialect can sound utterly foreign to other Malaysians.
It is home to 45,000 ethnic Chinese, who make up just 2.5 per cent of the state’s 1.8 million residents. This stands in contrast with the national average of 22.4 per cent.
While most of today’s Chinese Malaysians trace their arrival to the 19th and early 20th centuries, coming in large numbers because of the trade and the tin-mining boom, the community in Kelantan planted roots much earlier as traders and rice-growers.
The earliest record of Chinese settlement in Kelantan dates back to the 17th century. According to the Qing Dynasty’s Maritime Journals, migrants from Fujian settled in port areas, engaging in trade and black pepper cultivation, while Hakka migrants were drawn to the mountainous regions for gold prospecting.
In fact, the name “Kelantan” appeared in Chinese records from the early 15th century, with evidence of contact as early as 1429, around the time of the famed voyages of Chinese Admiral Cheng Ho, or Zheng He, to the Malay peninsula.


The Chinese here speak fluent Malay with a Kelantanese dialect. This sets them apart from other Chinese Malaysians, who often have a noticeable accent when speaking Malay, or may not speak the national language at all.
Mr Khoo said that acculturation – where cultures blend and merge with the majority – is “very, very deep” in the east coast of the Malay peninsula.
“The Chinese in Kelantan have a very deep historical legacy, but they are also very conscious about being Kelantanese – sometimes more than the Malays – which the Chinese from other parts of Malaysia find very, very odd.”
“That sense of pride is very strong among the Chinese Kelantanese, so much so that the other Chinese Malaysians look at them and wonder if they are ‘real’ Chinese,” he added.
Mr Zulkifli Jaafar, a retired banker from Kota Bharu, said that Malay Kelantanese have always seen their state’s Chinese as “one of us”.
“In Kelantan parlance, we would say that they are gu kita – part of our group,” Mr Zulkifli, 63, told ST.
The fact that they speak the local dialect fluently makes Chinese Kelantanese easily accepted by the Malays in the state, transcending the gap in race and religion, he added.
Kelantanese Malay, or loghat Kelate, has a distinctive vocabulary and an almost Thai-like rhythm, with tonal stresses absent in other Malay dialects.
Social media videos of TikTok content creator Natalie Joey Yap speaking Kelantanese Malay have gone viral – largely because of the novelty of seeing an ethnic Chinese person fluent in the lilting dialect.
With almost 245,000 followers on TikTok, the 23-year-old and her husband William Tan, 33, are part of a growing group of Chinese Kelantanese content creators who have carved out a niche in Malaysia’s vibrant social media scene.


“We realised that the Kelantan dialect is so different from standard Malay, so our intention is to expose the public to our culture and how we talk,” Ms Yap, who is from Kota Bharu, told ST.
“We realised that many Kelantanese, both Malay and Chinese, have started to lose touch with this culture, so we want to help keep it alive.”
While many followers of Ms Yap and Mr Tan are Malay, Chinese Malaysians outside Kelantan have also been drawn to their videos, especially after the couple began posting on the Xiaohongshu platform.
While Malay is their day-to-day language, many Chinese Kelantanese also converse in Hokkien – but with a local flavour that incorporates Malay grammatical structures.
Kelantan Chinese History and Culture Association president Alison Wee, 55, attributes this to the longstanding interaction between Chinese and Malays in the state.
She gave the example of how Hokkien speakers would refer to their own house as “chu wa”, which follows the Malay structure “rumah saya” (my house), putting the pronoun behind the noun.
The close relationship between the Chinese and the Malay Kelantanese has left tangible marks.
At the Tin Hin Kong Temple in Kampung Cina, or Chinese Village, a drum on display was a gift from Sultan Muhammad II of Kelantan in 1878 to the temple priest, who had assured him that his fleet of ships laden with tributes to the King of Thailand would survive an intense thunderstorm.
“My father sponsored a glass panel with a steel frame to preserve it as a sign of respect to the Sultan,” temple youth chief Jack Gan, 37, told ST.
The Malay language is also used in Kelantan’s Chinese temples, unlike on the west coast of Peninsular Malaysia, where Mandarin or English is commonly used.
The Islamist governance test
Dubbed the “veranda of Mecca” since the late 19th century for its longstanding role in Islamic learning, culture and practice, Kelantan was ruled by PAS between 1959 and 1977, and from 1990 until today.
Here, daily life is subtly shaped by 35 years of uninterrupted rule by the Islamist party.


Gender segregation is a practice embedded in concerts and shows with Muslim participants, while female performers have been allowed to perform only before female audiences since 2025.
While cinemas are not explicitly banned, they are required to separate seating by gender, keep the lights on to “prevent undesirable elements”, and halt screenings during evening prayer times. The last commercial cinema in the state closed in 1996.
All shops are required to close during Friday prayers, which is obligatory for all male Muslims. At Kota Bharu’s prominent bazaar, Pasar Siti Khadijah, the local council mandates a rest period between 12.45pm and 2.30pm for male traders to perform their prayers.
As the clock ticks towards the congregational prayer, vegetable stall workers pack their goods into baskets. Fresh beef is simply left hanging while the sellers leave to pray. While the men are gone, female shopkeepers while away the time chatting.
But come nightfall, in the city’s Chinatown, Kota Bharu’s Cheng Ho Square comes alive. This is one of the few areas in Kelantan where pork and alcohol – forbidden under Islam – can be served.
The square, with its large Chinese-style archway bearing the name of the Ming Dynasty admiral in Chinese characters alongside a Malay rendering of the name in both Latin letters and Arabic script, was inaugurated in June 2017 to much fanfare.
The square surrounding the archway comes alive on Thursday nights – Friday and Saturday are designated as the weekend to accommodate Friday prayers. Groups of Chinese Kelantanese gather for dinner, with restaurants setting up tables and chairs even on the sidewalks because of the crowd.
The state government took a unique approach of creating a special permit for restaurants wishing to sell non-halal food. They must clearly display the “restoran khas” (special restaurant) sign, distinguishing them from other Chinese eateries.
Under the licensing scheme, such restaurants are responsible for enforcing the rules, which include preventing those who appear to be Malay and Muslim from dining on the premises.
Hotel worker Taufiq Mamat, 35, discovered this when he entered one such restaurant for a drink, only to be politely turned away.
“I told him I just wanted a can of soda, but the owner suggested I go elsewhere,” Mr Taufiq, a Malay Kelantanese, said. “It was only then that I learnt about these special restaurants.”
Mr Lim Guan Seng, a special function officer to the Kelantan menteri besar in charge of inter-ethnic affairs, said there are now 33 restaurants in the state with the “special restaurant” designation.
“Muslims are barred from entering the restaurants. Only non-Muslim staff and patrons are allowed,” said Mr Lim.
At one of these special restaurants that serves Thai basil minced pork rice and Tiger Beer, a sign that states “food not for Muslims” is pasted beside a faded symbol of the Chinese God of Fortune. A 700ml bottle of Tiger Beer costs RM23 (S$7.40) here.




Apart from the special restaurants, however, Chinese-owned establishments are well patronised by the wider public.
Breakfast spot Kopitiam Kita, a Chinese-owned halal kopitiam in Kota Bharu, is famous for its roti titab – Hainanese-style toasted bread topped with a half-boiled egg, kaya and margarine.
“We sell 500 pieces every day, but sometimes during school holidays it can go up to 800 pieces daily,” said owner Wong Nye Hua.
The shop’s walls are plastered with photos of Malaysian celebrities and government figures, including famous fashion designer Jimmy Choo and beleaguered former prime minister Najib Razak and his wife Rosmah Mansor.
In other parts of Malaysia, Malays may avoid food establishments owned by non-Malays. Not here.
“Ninety-five per cent of our customers are Malay,” Mr Wong told ST. “We have 35 staff members – all of them are also Malay.”




The Nik Aziz effect
Kelantan’s blend of religious rule and cultural accommodation owes much to a leader who insisted that syariah law applied to Muslims, and should not be used to pressure or disadvantage the minorities.
Datuk Nik Aziz, the longest-serving Kelantan Menteri Besar, in office from 1990 to 2013, said non-Muslims should never be treated as second-class citizens.
The late Mr Nik Aziz referred to Chinese residents as “anak Kelantan” – “sons of Kelantan” – rather than “pendatang” (“outsiders”). He attended Chinese New Year celebrations, visited temples and engaged Chinese leaders without condescension or tokenism.
His modest lifestyle and rejection of ostentation earned him a reputation for integrity. For Kelantan’s Chinese community – many of whom are traders and small-business owners – moral credibility mattered more than ideological alignment.
Political science lecturer Syaza Shukri from International Islamic University Malaysia said that Mr Nik Aziz’s openness was a mix of his personality and political reality.
“It is well documented that Mr Nik Aziz was more open to meeting with religious minorities and celebrating with them. He was always seen as more respectful of plural coexistence,” Associate Professor Syaza told ST.
“But also it was a time in Malaysian politics when PAS had more incentives to soften its stance and work with others.”


Mr Nik Aziz’s educational background in India shaped this openness, Prof Syaza surmised.
“The Islamic education in India is more society- and community-centred. It is not a top-down approach the way it is in the Middle East and other Muslim majority countries,” she said.
“In India, where Islam is also a minority (religion), it perhaps helped to develop his respect for coexistence.”
Mr Lim said that under Mr Nik Aziz’s leadership, the state government allocated 405ha of agricultural land to Chung Hwa Independent High School to support private education conducted in Mandarin.
Minority welfare continues under the current state leadership. An inter-community integration centre – Pusat Integrasi Antara Kaum Negeri Kelantan – was formed in 2017 to liaise between ethnic minorities and the government. The annual Chingay Parade receives a donation from the PAS state government, and funding is provided for temple activities and infrastructure maintenance.
PAS’ current rule in Kelantan is one of the longest uninterrupted political administrations in Malaysia’s history, even as political fortunes have risen and fallen elsewhere, including the end of UMNO’s six-decade grip on federal power in 2018.
The party’s success in the November 2022 General Election led to analysts predicting that it could plausibly form the next federal government.
For many non-Muslims across Malaysia, such a prospect is deeply unsettling. PAS president Hadi Awang has repeatedly made headlines for inflammatory rhetoric against non-Malays, accusing them of being responsible for corruption and openly insisting that only Muslims are fit to govern Malaysia.
In June 2023, he said non-Muslims should be “grateful” to have a place in Malaysia and “should just let the Malays continue leading the country”.
Some party leaders, however, have held up Mr Nik Aziz’s model of governance as an example for strengthening unity across Malaysia.
When Singapore’s then Minister Mentor Lee Kuan Yew visited Kelantan in 2009, Mr Nik Aziz was asked how he would treat the Chinese Malaysians as well as Singapore if PAS ever governs Malaysia.
His answer: “Mr Lee, if we could govern, our stance towards the Chinese and towards Singapore would be the same as what we do in Kelantan.”


Current Menteri Besar Nassuruddin Daud said the unity between the Malay and Chinese communities in Kelantan can be used as an example for strengthening unity across Malaysia.
“(Racial unity) can be seen and felt by all parties who visit this state,” Datuk Nassuruddin said in 2023.
Referring to the racial riots of May 13, 1969, in Kuala Lumpur, he noted that “in Kelantan, that did not happen”.
“We Kelantanese live as one family.”
When tolerance isn’t enough
However, the pull of cultural acceptance, religious accommodation and belonging has proven insufficient against the push of Kelantan’s economic stagnation – and Kelantan’s youth are leaving in search of better prospects.
Official figures put the state’s absolute poverty rate at around 11.5 per cent – the worst in Peninsular Malaysia.
The economy relies heavily on wholesale and retail trade, which accounts for 70 per cent of the state’s RM27.6 billion gross domestic product. Agriculture contributes 20 per cent, with the remainder from a modest manufacturing base.
Without major industries, Kelantan has had to rely on compassionate funds from the federal government, which amounted to RM217.96 million in 2023.
Many still bristle at the memory of 2017 comments by then Kelantan Deputy Menteri Besar Mohd Amar Nik Abdullah, who said the government was aware of the state’s slow development, but the pace is “deliberate”.


Kelantan’s former Deputy Menteri Besar Mohd Amar Nik Abdullah:
If we speed up development, adopt independent policies, we can be on par with states like Selangor, but the danger is that we worry that the people will be left behind.
Official figures show that despite the ebb and flow of circular migration in and out of the state, Kelantan is slowly losing its citizens, who mainly leave for the highly industrialised west coast states of Negeri Sembilan, Selangor, Penang and Johor.
Despite their strong Kelantanese identity, many young people have joined the exodus to Kuala Lumpur (KL) and Selangor in hopes of better jobs.
Insurance agent Denis Koh, 32, told ST that he packed up and left the state immediately after finishing high school.
“As much as I love my home town and my life there, I want to chase the life I have been dreaming of. I still go back, but this is home now,” said Mr Koh, who lives in KL’s expatriate enclave of Mont Kiara.
Information technology consultant Lee Thing Thing, 55, who after high school moved to the Damansara area of KL, said that returning to Kelantan is unlikely.
“I have built my life here, so it makes no sense to move back. Even most of my schoolmates are here in KL,” Ms Lee said.
Adjusting to life in KL as a Chinese Kelantanese has its frictions. Marketing executive Jackie Chin related that hailing from the state carries a stigma, even among fellow ethnic Chinese.
“One time my neighbour, an elderly lady, asked if I was staying on trees back in Kelantan. It’s shocking to hear that in 2020, but many people still know very little about us,” said the 35-year-old.
Nonetheless, he finds comfort in familiar tastes from home on weekends at a Kelantanese nasi dagang restaurant in Damansara.
“The original shop is in Kota Bharu. This is their only branch,” he said. “It’s not just the food that takes me back to my home town, but also by the sound of everyone here speaking Kelantanese.”