The first realisation for me was in 2017, when I discovered that there is a legal route available to leave Islam in Malaysia. After consulting a few syariah lawyers at the time, I was advised to file an application to be declared as no longer a Muslim (Pengisytiharan sebagai bukan lagi Islam) in the Syariah High Court.

For the longest time, I believed there was no religious freedom for individuals with Muslim status, regardless of whether they truly held that belief. That perception began to change when I reached this point and started my case in the Syariah court. The syariah lawyer I engaged at the time did not quite make sense to me. I was told, “In Malaysia, there is no such thing as leaving Islam.”

However, when I reviewed my case application, I saw that it was filed under a provision in the Administration of Islamic Law Enactments (which exist in almost all states in Malaysia), and the provision is worded as follows:

“The Syariah High Court shall; in its civil jurisdiction, hear and determine all actions and proceedings if all the parties are Muslims and the actions or proceedings relate to; a declaration that a person is no longer a Muslim.”

“Mahkamah Tinggi Syariah hendaklah; dalam bidang kuasa malnya, mendengar dan memutuskan semua tindakan dan prosiding jika semua pihak dalam tindakan atau prosiding itu adalah orang Islam dan tindakan atau prosiding itu adalah berhubungan dengan; pengisytiharan bahawa seseorang itu bukan lagi orang Islam.”

The provision expressly provides for a declaration that a person is “no longer a Muslim” (“bukan lagi orang Islam”), which implies that the person was previously Muslim and is therefore leaving, renouncing, or converting out of Islam. This contrasts with being “declared as a non-Muslim” (“sebagai bukan Islam”), which clearly suggests that the person was not Muslim to begin with.

This provision led me to question what my syariah lawyer had said, and pushed me to study the law more closely.

As I dug deeper, I realised something even more fundamental. Above all these enactments sits the Federal Constitution of Malaysia. Article 4(1) makes it clear that it is the supreme law of the land. This means every law, including state Islamic laws, must be consistent with it.

I then came across Article 11(1) – “Every person has the right to profess and practise his religion.” It does not say “only to remain in a religion.” It speaks in terms of profession and practice, which at the very least raises the question of whether belief can be compelled.

When I began reading Federal Court decisions such as Lina Joy v Majlis Agama Islam Wilayah Persekutuan and Rosliza Ibrahim v Kerajaan Negeri Selangor, what stood out to me was this: these cases do not expressly state that leaving Islam is prohibited by law. Instead, much of the discussion centres on process – which court has jurisdiction, how a person’s religious status is determined, and the role of the Syariah Court in that determination.

In fact, the very existence of a legal provision and process for a declaration that a person is “no longer a Muslim” suggests that the law does contemplate situations where a person may no longer remain in that religion, even if the pathway is not straightforward and is often contested. This, in turn, suggests that, at least on its face, syariah law appears to be consistent with the Federal Constitution.

That was the turning point for me. The issue was no longer simply whether the law allows it. At least at the constitutional level, the law recognises the idea of religious freedom. The real question is how that freedom is administered, interpreted, and experienced in practice.

Because, at the end of the day, as citizens, we are governed not by assumptions or statements made in passing, but by the Constitution and the decisions of the highest court in the land. When read carefully, they begin to show that religious freedom does exist in Malaysia within its legal framework, even if the reality on the ground does not always reflect it – which is why we need to speak up for those who are genuinely pursuing it.

That also led me to another realisation.

Many of the people going through this process remain silent – not because they have nothing to say, but because of what it may cost them to speak. For those who are not directly affected, it is often easier to stay away, to not “rock the boat.”

But if those experiencing it are hesitant to speak, and those observing choose not to engage, then who is left to bring these issues into the open?

This is not about taking sides. It is about acknowledging that these situations exist, and that they affect real people navigating the law as it stands.

If you believe that conversations around law, rights, and lived realities should be better understood, then one simple way to contribute is by following, reading, and sharing these posts. Support does not always have to be loud. Sometimes, it begins with paying attention.

Because change, or even understanding, does not begin in courtrooms alone – it begins when more people are willing to see, to think, and to engage. Over time, this can help move us towards a more just and fair outcome – one grounded in mutual understanding between Muslims and non-Muslims, and a shared commitment to living peacefully in a multi-religious society.

This article was originally published on Buy Me a Coffee.