Welcome to Malaysia, where the latest bestseller may vanish overnight – courtesy of the Police – under the guise of protecting public morals. According to recent reporting, authorities have already banned 24 titles in 2025—“more than all the books banned in the past six years combined”.
Flip through the headlines and you’ll see the same refrain: a bookstore raid in Kuala Lumpur, a publisher’s warehouse emptied, rare imported titles seized. In one recent case, two horror novels were confiscated from a small independent shop simply for “suspected” breaches of morality. It’s not just classics or political exposés: the targets now include young-adult fiction, children’s books and graphic novels grappling with gender and sexuality. The point? Under the Printing Presses and Publications Act 1984 (PPPA) the state has broad powers to prohibit anything deemed “undesirable publications… prejudicial to morality, public order or national interest”.
So why the surge? On the surface, Malaysia may still brand itself as reform-minded under Anwar Ibrahim and the “Madani” agenda; yet insiders say the crackdown signals a retreat into conservatism. One researcher noted that the uptick in bans “reflects growing conservatism within the state bureaucracy… in which perceived deviant or heretical views are not intellectually challenged but just legally suppressed.” Among the banned works, nearly half touch on LGBTQ+ themes. Between 2020 and May 2025, some 13 publications about LGBTIQ issues were prohibited — representing 42 % of all banned items in that period.
Consider the term maybe you’re familiar with: kebebasan bersuara (freedom of speech). As a cultural ideal, Malaysians have long played with English, Malay and myriad local tongues to express themselves. Yet the state keeps a very tight leash. Despite constitutional guarantees, freedom of expression is curtailed in practice: the Home Ministry may act against books that “may harm” public opinion or “ideologies” that allegedly challenge morality.
What about the larger social context? Malaysia is a Muslim-majority nation (with ethnic Malays mandated as Muslims under the Constitution), and conservative interpretations of Islam play a large role in public policy. The word agama (religion) often appears in state rhetoric — and when literature engages with gender, sexuality, or non-normative identity, it can be framed as a threat to nilai (values) or akhlak (moral conduct). In other words: a book about queer identity isn’t merely social commentary—it becomes a subversive act in the eyes of the state. Thus, banning is not just censorship; it is one way of signalling that the space for kepelbagaian (diversity) is shrinking.
The effect? Writers and publishers speak of a growing chill. One veteran bookseller said the risk of raid has become an “occupational hazard” in Malaysia. Book clubs flourish and reading is reportedly on the rise, yet along with that flourish comes a crackdown: “We are told what to do and books are taken off the shelves, and all we can do is watch or protest,” observes one rights defender. For the blog-editorial ecosystem of the region (yes, also us…)—where voices on gender, sexuality, censorship, family and social justice shift rapidly—this trend should ring alarm bells. Because when books vanish, the dialogue disappears too. Literature becomes caution rather than provocation; identity becomes silence. And for a society that once prided itself on muafakat (consensus) and membaca (reading), the new message is clear: you may open a book—but only if it stays within the state-approved margin.
“Dear Malaysia: If Your Values Are Strong, Why Fear Books?“
Malaysia my dear, since when did libraries become crime scenes? These days, you walk into a bookstore in Kuala Lumpur and half-expect to see the Special Branch hiding behind the manga section, ready to pounce on any novel that dares mention a gay character or — Tuhan forbid — a woman with independent desire. The latest national pastime seems to be banning books faster than authors can write them. Twenty-four titles already blacklisted in 2025 — more than the past six years combined. That’s not “book regulation.” That’s a panic attack in hardcover.
Let’s not pretend this is about “protecting akhlak (morals)” or shielding innocent minds. If anything, Malaysian teens are already five steps ahead on TikTok and BL Webtoons. The real fear here isn’t sex or ghosts in YA fiction — it’s ideas. Particularly those messy, colorful, wonderfully queer ideas that don’t fit the tidy, heteronormative moral narratives some bureaucrats cling to like expired nasi lemak.
Under the Printing Presses and Publications Act — a relic so old it probably thinks email is witchcraft — any publication can be yanked for “public disorder” or “undesirable content.” Translation: If a story challenges the status quo, boop — into the evidence bag it goes. Nearly half the banned books deal with LGBTQ+ lives. You know, actual human beings who exist in Malaysia despite the state’s best efforts to pretend otherwise.
Here’s the real kicker: Malaysia loves to sell itself as modern, progressive, Madani even — the stylish Muslim-majority democracy of Southeast Asia. But when the Home Ministry starts acting like the moral police of your bedside table, it sends a different message: Kepelbagaian (diversity) is suspicious, and kebebasan bersuara (freedom of speech) is only tolerated when it’s obedient.
I want the censors to explain this: If your values are so strong, why are you so terrified of a paperback? Why must queer kids — or anyone who thinks differently — learn early that curiosity is dangerous?
To my Malaysian book lovers, here’s what Spicy Auntie knows: people always find the stories they need. Shut every bookstore and a pasar malam stall will start selling the banned stuff next to the fake Crocs. Silence breeds rebellion — and nothing is more seductive than a book the government doesn’t want you to read.
So, dear Malaysia: take a deep breath. Put down the raid warrant. Let people read. Because a nation afraid of imagination is a nation afraid of its own future. Spicy Auntie is watching you!