ON the evening of Feb 28, 2026, just before Maghrib prayers, lion dance drums rolled to a close inside a hall at Jalan Dutamas in Kuala Lumpur. Red lanterns still framed the stage. But within moments the atmosphere shifted. Dates began to be passed from table to table. Water glasses awaited the call to break fast.
Under one roof, prosperity and piety briefly shared the same space.
That evening, the Old Putera Association (OPA) – the alumni body of the Royal Military College – held a combined Chinese New Year open house and annual iftar gathering. About 400 guests attended, with roughly 65% of them Muslim.
It was an unusual arrangement, and understandably one that prompted discussion among members beforehand.
Some wondered whether Ramadan, a month associated with solemn reflection and restraint, should be paired with festive cultural elements. Others questioned whether combining the events might unintentionally blur the distinction between religious observance and celebration.
These concerns were not dismissed.
In a message to members ahead of the event, the OPA president acknowledged that the overlap of the lunar new year season and Ramadan presented an imperfect situation. The association’s executive committee had deliberated and reached a unanimous decision to proceed with the combined gathering, while ensuring that sensitivities surrounding the fasting month were carefully respected.
The key principle was simple: not to merge meanings, but to sequence them.
Festive segments such as the lion dance performance and the traditional yee sang prosperity toss were scheduled to conclude well before Maghrib. Firecrackers and celebratory elements ended prior to the breaking of fast. A doa was recited before Muslim members adjourned to a surau on another floor for Maghrib prayers, followed later by Isya’ and Terawih. Only after prayers did many return to the hall to join the buffet dinner and continue fellowship.
Culture was celebrated. Faith was observed. Neither displaced the other.
In many ways, the evening reflected the institutional DNA of the Royal Military College itself. Established in 1952, the RMC remains Malaysia’s only military college and has long maintained a multiracial intake of cadets. Its motto, “Serve to Lead”, is not merely ceremonial. For generations of students who passed through its gates, discipline, respect, and camaraderie across ethnic and religious lines were daily realities.
The OPA today comprises around 4,000 members worldwide, spanning various backgrounds and professions. What binds them is not ethnicity or religion, but a formative experience that emphasised brotherhood and mutual responsibility.
One member observed during the gathering that the organisers had been “careful not to cross any lines”. Another remarked that the evening demonstrated how “respect must come before celebration”.
Perhaps the most symbolic detail of the night was that the lion dance performance had been sponsored by a Muslim Old Putera. It was not highlighted as a gesture of grand significance, yet many present recognised it as an authentic expression of muhibbah.
What stood out most was not the blending of rituals, but the discipline of boundaries.
The festive segments paused before prayer time. Religious observances were given proper space and privacy. No attempt was made to dilute the significance of Ramadan, nor to trivialise Chinese New Year traditions.
If anything, the evening showed that coexistence often requires careful choreography.
Malaysia’s public discourse today can sometimes give the impression that diversity is fragile or constantly under strain. Social media, in particular, tends to amplify the loudest disagreements. Yet beyond the noise, quieter examples of accommodation and mutual respect continue to unfold daily – in offices, schools, neighbourhood gatherings, and community associations.
This gathering was one such example.
Could the two events have been held separately? Possibly. But Malaysia’s festive calendar frequently produces overlaps. In the years ahead, similar convergences – sometimes dubbed “Gong Xi Raya” seasons – will inevitably recur. The more relevant question may not be whether such overlaps should exist, but how communities choose to navigate them.
In this instance, the approach was consultative and measured. Concerns were voiced. Adjustments were made. The organising committee consciously moderated certain celebratory elements while ensuring that the spirit of Chinese New Year was still honoured.
By the time Terawih prayers concluded later that evening, conversations resumed easily over shared dishes. Some guests had earlier exchanged ang pow envelopes; others spoke quietly about fasting and the significance of Ramadan. There was no sense of contradiction in the room – only the natural rhythm of a society accustomed to living alongside difference.
For an alumni association shaped by the training grounds of a military college, the symbolism felt appropriate. Cadets march together regardless of race or religion. Differences are acknowledged, but cohesion is essential.
That evening, beneath red lanterns and crescent motifs, the same principle quietly played out.
Serve to lead.
And sometimes leadership is not about dramatic gestures or declarations. Sometimes it simply means arranging a moment in a way that allows everyone to belong.
OPA MEMBER
Old Putera Association (OPA)
The OPA is the alumni association of the Royal Military College.
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