Before Bulldozers Arrive Lesson For Urban Renewal Act

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As the government prepares to table the long-anticipated Urban Renewal Act (URA) in Parliament this year, it is crucial to pause and ask: Who truly benefits from redevelopment?
While the Act aims to rejuvenate decaying urban areas, streamline land use, and facilitate en-bloc redevelopment with lower consent thresholds, its human implications remain deeply underexplored.
A case study from a historic district of Padang Pahlawan (Field of Heroes) in Malacca, one I conducted in 2008, serves as a vital cautionary tale. Through surveys and interviews with 180 respondents, including small vendors and residents, the findings paint a compelling picture of what happens when renewal is imposed without thoughtful engagement, historical sensitivity, or inclusive planning.
Padang Pahlawan (above), once a vibrant, open space rich in cultural and historical value, was the site where Malaysia’s independence was first proclaimed in Malacca.
ADSFor decades, it functioned as a communal heart, an intergenerational space for recreation, bull cart rides, open-air games, festivals, and everyday gatherings. That changed when the area was redeveloped into a modern commercial complex.
The redevelopment was swift and ambitious, but also deeply alienating for those who depended on the padang, not just economically, but emotionally and socially. I still kept a record of remarks lamented by a tour guide in his 30s during the interviews.
“Now everything is gone. The padang used to be our soul. All that’s left now is just a shopping mall.”
The forgotten casualties
Among those most affected were the small vendors and hawkers who had long operated around the padang. They were part of its social fabric, offering art, food, and souvenirs under the trees, engaging with tourists, locals, and children alike.
Under the new development, many of them were relocated to hard-to-reach corners or basement lots, far from tourist views and foot traffic. Monthly stall rental skyrocketed from RM30 to as high as RM550. Business plummeted. The psychological toll was immense, as posted by the vendor who was placed at a temporary stall, which has now become the site of the Hatten Hotel.
“We are disappointed... very disappointed indeed. We might even end up doing dirty jobs, but you can’t blame us.”
Their experiences reflect one of the core concerns raised by critics of the URA: that lowering the consent threshold for redevelopment down to 75 percent for old buildings or even 51 percent for unsafe ones may pave the way for mass displacement, especially of lower-income communities who lack the means or voice to resist.
An urban area that the URA intends to target.Loss memory, identity
More than just physical displacement, what occurred at Padang Pahlawan was a cultural and psychological rupture, which scholars refer to as “placelessness” and “discontinuity of experience”.
Residents described feeling lost, disoriented, and heartbroken. Many no longer visited the area, now saturated with commercial noise and modern structures, which they could not relate to. One elderly man, overcome with emotion, likened himself to a “chicken trapped in a coop”.
The redevelopment erased not only physical features but entire ways of life, childhood routines, community rituals, and personal histories that had long been grounded in the padang. A middle-aged Indian lady explained:
ADS“It’s not fun anymore, people come just to shop now, not to feel the history. The aura is gone.”
Ironically, even with the presence of security guards, the new space was not perceived as safer. Residents and vendors expressed fear of crime, loitering, and a breakdown in social norms, issues that rarely existed in the old Padang Pahlawan, where familiar faces and a strong community presence maintained informal order.
The old padang, despite being unguarded, offered a sense of comfort and security rooted in trust and shared ownership. This was lost in the hyper-commercialised, impersonal space that replaced it.
What URA must learn
Padang Pahlawan’s redevelopment was not carried out under the URA, but the consequences borne by its community mirror exactly what could happen should the URA be implemented without comprehensive safeguards.
While the Act’s objective to streamline and accelerate urban redevelopment is understandable, especially in areas marked by ageing infrastructure and declining utility, this urgency must not come at the cost of social disruption, cultural erasure, and economic marginalisation.
The story of Padang Pahlawan teaches us that redevelopment, when pursued without holistic planning, can fracture communities, displace livelihoods, and erase historical memory.
Therefore, any future legislation must embed deep protections within its framework. Social Impact Assessments must be made a prerequisite before any redevelopment can proceed, ensuring that the voices and vulnerabilities of affected communities are fully understood.
Provisions for the right of return must be guaranteed so that displaced residents and small vendors are not permanently excluded from the new developments replacing their former homes and trading grounds.

Additionally, policies must be introduced to ensure affordable stall rental and housing options within redeveloped spaces to prevent gentrification and exclusion. Legal support and representation should be provided for lower-income groups to navigate negotiations and resist unfair displacement.
Finally, any redevelopment must incorporate heritage-sensitive design approaches that acknowledge and preserve the cultural and emotional fabric of the space, ensuring that progress does not come at the expense of identity. Without these built-in protections, the URA risks repeating the disruptions it hopes to correct.
The URA intends to redevelop and revitalise buildings or land parcels, or carry out regeneration projects.A final plea
As policymakers debate the URA in Parliament, let Padang Pahlawan be more than just a memory. Let it be a lesson.
Urban development must be people-centred, not profit-driven. It must celebrate, not displace, those who make our cities vibrant, meaningful, and alive. The padang was once a breathing space for Malaccans, it must not become a cautionary footnote in Malaysia’s rush toward modernisation. In crafting the URA, we have a choice: repeat past mistakes, or learn from them and build a future where renewal uplifts, not uproots. - Mkini
NOR ZALINA HARUN is an associate professor at Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia, specialising in urban studies and human settlements.
The views expressed here are those of the author/contributor and do not necessarily represent the views of MMKtT.

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