I’d like to think that in 2026, we try to give every child a fair start in life. A child’s future, surely, should not be determined by decisions made before birth.
Imagine being born in Malaysia to a Malaysian father, growing up here, going to school here, making friends here, and knowing no other place as home. Yet you are denied Malaysian citizenship because your father and your foreign mother were not married when you were born.
This was the decision by the Court of Appeal recently in two citizenship cases – and this, despite DNA confirmation of biological links to their Malaysian fathers. The court held that because the parents were not legally married, the children’s legal status had to follow their mothers.
Yet in both cases, the mothers had left when the children were young. They had grown up in Malaysia with their fathers, with no ties to their mothers’ home countries (Indonesia and the Philippines).
So let me get this straight: the decisive factor was simply that they were born out of wedlock to a foreign mother?
Yes, according to the Federal Constitution. To become Malaysian, both the birthplace and parentage matter – conditions known in law as “jus soli” (Latin for right by birthplace) and “jus sanguinis” (right of blood/lineage).
For a child born outside a legal marriage, the Constitution says citizenship should be determined through the mother. That’s the provision the Court interpreted and applied.
These constitutional provisions were drafted in a different era. Today, DNA testing can answer the question of paternity with remarkable certainty. So this leaves the question: Should biological fatherhood, once confirmed, continue to carry less legal weight without marriage?
Numerous child rights advocates have spoken out about this ruling and the constitutional framework that denies nationality on the basis of the parents’ marital status. They argue this fails to put “the best interests of the child” first and discriminates against Malaysian fathers. They call for judicial discretion, and highlight that the court’s logic forces children to seek nationality in places where they have no family, support, or connection.
Civil society organisation DHRRA (Development of Human Resources for Rural Areas) says Malaysia is one of only two countries where fathers cannot confer citizenship in such cases.
For centuries, many societies treated children born outside marriage differently, affecting their legal and social status, inheritance, and family name. But over the past several decades, countries have moved away from such distinctions, recognising that children should not carry the burden of choices made beyond their control.
Notably, legal systems generally aim to deter wrongdoing by adults, and to hold adults accountable for their choices. When an adult breaks a law, there is a consequence. You drive too fast, you get a ticket. You don’t pay your taxes, you incur a penalty. You cheat in business, you get fined. You stab someone, you go to jail. But who bears the lifelong consequence in the above citizenship cases? The child.
The law may draw clear lines, but the reality of human relationships is often messier. Adults do not always make choices that society expects. Some fall in love across cultures or borders. Some children are planned; some are not. Some marry. Some never do. Some relationships last. Some end. None of this is new. People have been moving and mixing for all of human history.
Marriage is a choice – it’s a voluntary decision by consenting adults. Citizenship is not. It determines the legal identity of a child who has had no say in it. The two serve different purposes. One gives legal recognition to a social institution; the other determines if a child has a country to call home.
Citizenship should not become a moral judgement on the relationship between two adults. It should answer a simpler question: Does this child belong here? And also: Will this child likely become stateless?
Because stateless children grow into adults who live on the margins of society. They can face barriers to education, healthcare, and legal employment, and to getting a bank account, driving license, and stable housing. Unable to fully participate, many remain trapped in poverty, uncertainty, and exclusion. How does that make Malaysia a better country?
This is not an isolated issue. It has surfaced repeatedly over the years. The stories differ – from foundlings and undocumented births to children born in remote indigenous communities where birth registration is difficult – but the underlying theme is similar. Children end up in legal limbo through no fault of their own.
Nationality is a sensitive issue, but laws are not set in stone. In 2024, Parliament amended the Constitution so Malaysian mothers can automatically pass citizenship to their children born overseas. That reform recognised that citizenship laws should reflect today’s realities and gender equality.
This issue deserves similar reflection. Doesn’t every child deserve to begin life with a clean slate?
