Ura Cautionary Tale From Malacca S Historic Core

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Each year, the small but mighty state of Malacca secures its place among Malaysia’s most economically profitable destinations, not through vast industrial zones or high-rise financial districts, but through the enduring pull of its heritage.
Streets lined with colonial-era buildings, monuments steeped in centuries of history, and thriving tourism corridors rooted in cultural identity have placed Malacca at the heart of the nation's tourism narrative.
But this success was no accident.
Long before heritage became a buzzword, Malacca had already moved to gazette key structures like the Santiago Gate, the ruins of A Famosa, and the Stadthuys monuments now etched in the nation’s collective memory.
ADSThese were formally protected as early as 1977, at a time when the tide of development was rapidly rising across the country.
The foresight to preserve these landmarks ensured that Malacca did not lose its soul to modernity. In doing so, it created a thriving local economy where street vendors, tour guides, homestay owners, and craftspeople today still benefit from the tourism it attracts.
This is why the impending implementation of the Urban Renewal Act (URA) by the federal government demands closer scrutiny especially when it comes to cities like Malacca.
On the surface, the URA is a welcome intervention. It aims to breathe new life into ageing urban centres, improve infrastructure, and revamp derelict buildings. However, if heritage-rich cities are caught in its sweep without careful consideration, we risk trading uniqueness for uniformity, and stories for steel.
Urban renewal, if approached hastily, can become urban erasure.
Heritage is an asset
Picture this: What if Malacca’s old quarters had not been gazetted? What if, in the name of progress, the A Famosa ruins had been flattened for another shopping mall, or the Stadthuys demolished to make way for a high-rise hotel?
What would Malacca be today? Perhaps just another generic urban landscape, gleaming, modern, and entirely forgettable.
This is not an exaggeration. Across the world, we have seen how poorly designed renewal schemes have stripped cities of their identities. Malaysia must not follow this path.
Malacca’s story reminds us that heritage is not a barrier to development; it is an asset. The economic returns speak for themselves. But more importantly, these monuments and their surroundings provide a sense of place.
They anchor communities, create local pride, and nurture intergenerational continuity. For the residents of Bandar Hilir, the surrounding area is more than a postcard; it is their place of work, recreation, and family life.
The URA, as proposed, does not yet offer clear protections for such cultural landscapes.
ADSWhile it includes categories such as redevelopment and rehabilitation, it lacks robust mechanisms for inclusive public participation, heritage impact assessments, or safeguards for community livelihoods.
Without these, there is a genuine risk that entire neighbourhoods may be redeveloped without understanding what is being lost.
Cultural sensitivity
This is not a call to reject urban renewal, but to refine.
We must embed cultural sensitivity into every stage of planning. Communities should not be afterthoughts; they must be co-creators.
In Malacca, for example, the continued success of heritage tourism depends as much on the people who interpret and live the culture as it does on the bricks and mortar. Any renewal plan must ask: Will this help communities flourish, or merely displace them?
What we need is a model of inclusive urban regeneration, one that blends adaptive reuse of heritage buildings, skills training for local youth, incentives for heritage entrepreneurship, and participatory design that reflects the community's values.
Heritage districts should not become frozen museums, but living, evolving spaces that honour the past while adapting to the present.
Malacca’s survival as a cultural city proves that thoughtful heritage protection is not only possible, it is profitable, sustainable, and deeply human.
The URA, if refined with these lessons in mind, could be the catalyst for a new chapter in Malaysian urbanism, one that does not erase identity in the name of progress, but integrates it at the very core.
Because once a city loses its memory, it loses its meaning. Let us not allow that to happen. - Mkini
NOR ZALINA HARUN is a senior research fellow at the Institute of the Malay World and Civilisation, Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia.
The views expressed here are those of the author/contributor and do not necessarily represent the views of MMKtT.

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