There’s a long running debate in Malaysia over the name of their language, whether to associate it with the people or country as, for example, Indonesia do, or with an ethnicity as do multiple other languages across Indonesia (Sundanese, Javanese, Balinese, Minangkabau, Batak, Malay, Dayak, etc).
In 1928 Indonesian youth organizations gathered at a conference and adopted an ethnic minority language, Malay, as the basis to form and develop the national language, and called the resulting language Indonesian as a way to unite the people and the nation and avoid favoring any single ethnicity.
The Indonesian language ends up as an adaptive lingua franca, absorbing words, customs, and rules from various other languages the people came across, including Portuguese, English, Arabic, and Dutch, in addition to domestic influence from local ethnic languages.
In contrast, Malaysia faces a linguistic dilemma. While the country’s national language remains strongly rooted in Malay, it has evolved by absorbing foreign influences — mainly from Chinese, Arabic, and English — but nowhere near as heavily as Indonesian did.
The question they’re debating over: Should it be called Bahasa Malaysia (Malaysian language) to emphasize its national identity, or Bahasa Melayu (Malay language) to acknowledge its ethnic origins?
This debate reflects deeper sociopolitical tensions between fostering a unified national identity and recognizing the cultural heritage of the Malay majority.
Proponents of Bahasa Malaysia argue that the term promotes inclusivity, making the language feels more representative of all Malaysians, including non-Malay communities such as the Chinese, Indian, and indigenous groups.
On the other hand, supporters of Bahasa Melayu contend that the language’s historical and ethnic roots should not be erased, as it is intrinsically tied to the Malay people and their traditions. They’re also saying the common language used in the U.K., Australia, the US, and other anglophone countries is called English, after the people.
To complicate matters, Malaysian governments over the years alternated between the two terms, reflecting shifting political priorities.
In the 1960s, the name Bahasa Malaysia was officially adopted to encourage national unity, but in 1986, the term Bahasa Melayu was reinstated. However, around 2007, the government reverted to Bahasa Malaysia to reinforce its role as a national, rather than purely ethnic, language.
This is why over the years I keep getting corrected when I refer to the language because I never kept tabs on what it was called.
While Indonesia settled this long before the nation was formed, Malaysia’s seeming indecision reflects the delicate balance they have to manage between ethnic identity and history and national cohesion. Before deciding on a definitive name, they must to decide what they want their language to represent.
Personally, I have a feeling non Malays wouldn’t have a real problem calling the language either way while the ethnic Malay majority will insist their language should be called Malay.
Tag: language
Komdigi Minister Meutya Hafid is Wrong About Esports
The Minister’s dismissal of esports as “not real sport” exposes an outdated understanding, trapped by language that excludes millions of digital competitors.
There’s a controversy brewing, and it’s centered on a simple, stubborn claim from Komdigi Minister Meutya Hafid: online games aren’t sport. Why? Because you don’t sweat, you don’t move your body, you don’t exercise. She said, “For me, sport still needs to involve physical activity too, not just online stuff. I’m not saying online is bad, but still, if you’re calling it sport, there needs to be a physical component to it.” It’s a statement that landed with a thud — but also one that perfectly exposes how trapped we are in a limited, almost archaic understanding of what “sport” means.
The Power of Language
In English, “sport” has a broad range of meanings, from recreation to competitive skill. In Indonesian, however, “olahraga” is literally “olah” (exercise, process) and “raga” (body), binding the word to the idea of physical exertion.This linguistic root shapes not only the word’s meaning but the public’s perception. If it’s not about sweating and moving, it’s not olahraga.
Yet the world of competition has never been that simple. Chess, bridge, and even shooting are globally recognized as sports, despite demanding far more mental toughness than muscle power. Motorsport, too, reveals the flaw in defining sport solely by physical activity. Drivers and riders may sweat during races, but it’s their precision, split-second decisions, and unwavering focus that elevate it to the level of true competition. These examples show that our traditional definition of sport — tied solely to physical movement — doesn’t capture the full spectrum of human excellence.
This is more than a semantic debate. It’s about who gets to play, who gets to compete, who gets to be taken seriously. and what kinds of human achievement we value. If we cling to the idea that only sweat and sore muscles can define sport, we shut out entire worlds of competition and excellence.
The roots of this mindset run deep. “Olahraga” is tied to physical movement, and even though Indonesia’s legal definition of sport has expanded to include online pursuits, public perception still lags behind. Words shape culture, and culture shapes opportunity. When we insist that esports aren’t “real olahraga,” we’re not just quibbling over definitions — we’re gatekeeping who gets to compete and be counted.
Sport Evolves, so Should Our Understanding
Sport has always evolved. What counted as sport a hundred years ago is different from what we celebrate today. Boxing was once considered too brutal to be a sport. Weightlifting was dismissed as circus spectacle. Now they’re both Olympic mainstays. Clinging to the idea that physical exertion is the only marker of legitimacy ignores the reality that skill, dedication, and competition take many forms — including digital.
Rejecting esports on the grounds of physicality isn’t just shortsighted; it’s a disservice to the millions who compete, train, and thrive in these spaces. Esports demand precision, strategy, and lightning-fast reflexes — the same qualities we celebrate in any athlete. The difference is the arena, not the intensity. It’s time to rethink what olahraga means, expand our definitions, and embrace a future where sport reflects the full range of human achievement. Or maybe even come up with a brand new term that’s more inclusive of the activities we humans consider sport in the modern era and even beyond – easier said than done, really, more practical to just detach the word olahraga from physical associations.
This isn’t just about a minister’s remark. It’s about how Indonesia defines itself in a world where competition no longer looks like it did fifty years ago. It’s about whether we’ll stay stuck in the past or embrace the future.
We need to evolve. Because sports aren’t just about calories burned or muscles flexed. It’s about pushing human limits, testing mental and physical endurance, and reaching the pinnacle of what we’re capable of, wherever that might be. On a track. In a pool. At a bar. Or yes, even on a screen. Even when it’s a Microsoft Excel competition.
20 common grammar mistakes
Linguistic intricacies have always been a pet subject of mine since high school and perhaps formed the foundation of what I now do for a living, and that is being a writer and editor. Reading an article like this one helps people (including myself) discover the proper ways to use particular words and identify context more correctly.
My favorite among the 20:
Impactful
It isn’t a word. “Impact” can be used as a noun (e.g., The impact of the crash was severe) or a transitive verb (e.g., The crash impacted my ability to walk or hold a job). “Impactful” is a made-up buzzword, colligated by the modern marketing industry in their endless attempts to decode the innumerable nuances of human behavior into a string of mindless metrics. Seriously, stop saying this.
The History of English in 10 minutes