The focus on ‘new green growth’ means Malaysia is missing the opportunity to draw on the ancient ecological knowledge of indigenous communities, writes human rights lawyer Loh Jing Rou.
FOR INDIGENOUS communities, the forests whisper stories older than the cities that now rise around them—stories of survival, stewardship, and sacred knowledge. In the rustling of leaves, the ebb and flow of rivers, and the dance of fireflies once guiding the harvest, a wisdom endures.
Yet, as Malaysia steps into the global climate arena—boasting green technologies and policy reforms—an ancient wisdom remains at the margins: Indigenous Traditional Ecological Knowledge (TEK).
[Feature image: The Semai hill paddy planting season sees dibbling (making small holes in the ground for seeds) occur in August—September | Photo by Fikri Husin (Gerimis Art Project)]
TEK is “a cumulative body of knowledge, practice and belief, evolving by adaptive processes and handed down through generations by cultural transmission, about the relation of living beings (including humans) with one another and with their environment”.
For more than 18,000 years, indigenous communities across Peninsular Malaysia and Borneo—the Orang Asli and Orang Asal—have lived in harmony with their ecosystems, guided by the principle of “taking only what is needed”, an ethic that directly challenges the modern consumer-driven, extractive economic model.
However, as climate change intensifies, these communities find themselves on the frontlines—not just of ecological shifts, but of a continued struggle against the colonial legacies and state policies that have displaced them, undermined their sovereignty, and dismissed their knowledge systems.
If Malaysia is to craft an equitable and effective climate strategy, TEK must be central—not as an artifact of the past, but as a guiding force for the future.
The story of climate change in Malaysia is not just about rising temperatures or deforestation—it is about historical injustice. Colonialism and climate change are not separate crises; they are deeply intertwined, their impacts compounding over generations.
British colonial rule fundamentally reshaped Malaysia’s landscapes, clearing vast forests to establish rubber and palm oil plantations at the expense of indigenous governance and ecological balance. This legacy of land dispossession did not end with colonialism—it continues today.
The predecessor(s) of the Land Acquisition Act 1960 were first introduced to facilitate colonial economic extraction. In Malaysia, where indigenous land rights remains precarious, often unrecognised or contested, the Act continues to be one of the most powerful legal instruments of indigenous displacement, repurposing ancestral lands for logging, mega-dams, and commercial agriculture.
Extraction over sustainability
What was once a landscape stewarded through customary land management and rotational farming has been transformed into an extractive economy that prioritises profit over ecological sustainability.
Colonial economies did not merely extract resources; they severed relationships—between people and land, between communities and their water sources. Where indigenous peoples once cultivated resilient, diverse ecosystems, monoculture plantations have depleted soil fertility, increasing vulnerability to climate extremes.
Where rivers once ran freely, they have been dammed for industrial expansion and to meet water demands of growing population, forcing indigenous communities into dependence on state-controlled water systems.
Ongoing displacement
This legacy of land dispossession persists. Indigenous communities continue to fight for recognition of their ancestral land often against commercial developments and large-scale construction projects. Besides displacement, they face the erosion of their traditional livelihoods.
Policies have systematically weakened indigenous resilience, leaving them at the frontlines of intensifying floods, droughts, and wildfires—disasters exacerbated by a climate crisis they had no hand in creating.
If Malaysia is to respond to climate change with justice and equity, it must acknowledge this history—not as a relic of the past, but as a structural injustice that continues to shape the present.
Adopting indigenous TEK is not merely adopting a repository of climate adaptation strategies—it is a radical reimagining of contemporary society’s relationship with nature.
Unlike modern scientific approaches, which often separate humans from ecosystems, TEK is rooted in reciprocity, restraint, and interdependence. Indigenous communities have long resisted over-extraction and resource hoarding, concepts that drive modern capitalist economies and environmental degradation.
For example, in Sarawak, the Iban practice temuda, a shifting cultivation system that allows forests to regenerate naturally after a cycle of farming, ensuring that the land remains fertile for future generations. The Penan practice of molong, meaning to take only what is needed, directly contradicts the capitalist drive for unlimited accumulation.
Terraced farming
Meanwhile, the Lun Bawang’s lati’ba’ system maintains highland wet paddy farming, a technique that carefully channels water through terraced landscapes, preventing soil erosion while supporting multiple crop cycles.
These methods are not about maximising short-term yields—they are designed for long-term sustainability, balancing food security with ecological preservation.
As scientists warn of planetary boundaries already crossed and irreversible tipping points looming, it is clear that modern ways of life are unsustainable.
Resource stewardship
TEK redefines what we value, moving beyond consumption-driven systems to emphasise the sustainability of ecosystems, the strength of community bonds, and the intergenerational stewardship of resources.
Prioritising what sustains life over what fuels profit, TEK has the potential of challenging modern worldviews and provide a transformative path toward balance with the planet.
Internationally, there is growing recognition of indigenous contributions to climate governance. Instruments like the Paris Agreement and the work of the Local Communities and Indigenous Peoples Platform have acknowledged the importance of indigenous voices.
Multiple systems worldwide
Other nations offer compelling examples—traditional practices, such as the Maya ‘milpa’ intercropping system in Central America, aboriginal ‘cool burning’ fire management in Australia, and agroforestry techniques in West Africa, demonstrate resilient and sustainable land management solutions that can effectively mitigate climate risks.
Malaysia, with its unmatched biodiversity and indigenous ecological knowledge, has the potential to lead ethical, inclusive climate governance in the region.
At base, Malaysia cannot claim climate leadership while continuing to exclude the very people who have safeguarded its ecosystems for centuries. Therefore, the country must recognise indigenous TEK as foundational to a just and effective climate strategy.
What’s more, integrating TEK into national climate policies is not an act of charity; it is a long-overdue step toward reparative justice—acknowledging that climate vulnerability is not incidental but a direct consequence of historical dispossession and systemic exclusion.
Addressing inequities
Emerging justice theorist Olúfẹ́mi O. Táíwò argues that reparations must go beyond financial compensation to actively restructure power and address present and future inequities. “A politically serious reparations project… must focus on climate justice,” he asserts, reframing climate reparations as an extension of historical redress.
In Malaysia, this means confronting the legacy of colonial land theft, modern environmental injustices, and the continued marginalisation of indigenous governance over land and resources.
Climate governance must be fundamentally redefined: from marginalisation to partnership, from token inclusion to shared leadership. This requires a shift from top-down, corporate-driven environmental policies to indigenous-led conservation models—where those who have nurtured the land for generations are not just consulted, but empowered as decision-makers.
Walking the talk
If Malaysia is to build a future that is resilient, just, and sustainable, it must move beyond symbolic commitments and embrace an indigenous-led, justice-centered approach to climate action.
The path forward is not in profit-driven carbon markets or extractive “green growth” models, but in restoring land rights, respecting sovereignty, and embedding TEK as a guiding principle of national climate adaptation frameworks.
When history looks back on this moment, let it see a nation that stood on the right side of justice—choosing partnership over exploitation, reciprocity over extraction, and the wisdom of its ancestors over the short-sightedness of profit.
Loh Jing Rou is a human rights lawyer and policy researcher specialising in international human rights law and social justice. She is currently pursuing a Master of Public Policy. With experience in legislative drafting, policy research, and advocacy, she has worked across legal, government, academic, and non-profit sectors to advance equity and justice.
[Edited by SL Wong]
The views expressed here are those of the author/contributor and do not necessarily represent the views of Macaranga.
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Thank you for your insightful article. It’s crucial to integrate indigenous knowledge into climate solutions. A balanced, inclusive approach could lead to more sustainable policies.