Ask any average Malaysian student, and they will tell you that their school was built on a former wartime cemetery or hospital. Ask a family member or a friend, and they will tell you about an acquaintance who has seen, felt, or heard something that rubbed them the wrong way, and that would remain in the back of their mind for years to come. Have you ever wondered where these tales come from? In this edition of La Cerita, we will explore ghost stories in Malaysian culture and their place in modern Malaysia.
Where do ghost stories come from?
Early Malay beliefs state that every human has a body and a soul (semangat), but that nature is also inhabited by malevolent spirits [1]. After the introduction of Islam, the concept of hantu is often enmeshed with the concept of jinn and shaitan. McHugh’s work detailing ghosts in Malaysia (then still called Malaya), provides us with a simple classification of the different kinds of ghosts by associating them with a place, function, or role [2]. The three categories are as follows:
- Elementals, who are linked to the earth, jungle, and sea (e.g. Hantu Rimba, Hantu Pemburu);
- Personal, who are smaller and closer in proximity with humans (e.g. Hantu Pelesit, Hantu Langsuir);
- Village/Household, who are similar to Personal Hantus but may also be good spirits that ‘assist’ humans (e.g. Pontianak, Toyol, Hantu Keramat)
Interestingly, local Malaysians who were interviewed on the subject of hantu seemed to veer away from this generalisation of hantu into different classes based on McHugh’s Western categorical sequencing. Instead, information was given the Malaysian way — a story about a past event as recalled by the storyteller, thus associating the hantu with a certain context or occasion [3].
A large part of Malaysian culture is, indeed, formed through oral tradition. It may be difficult to find ghost stories written down on paper, but stories of people who have spotted driverless cars on the Karak Highway have been retold countless times. Another point to note is that although certain elements will always remain the same, the evolution of such stories with time may even mirror technological advancements. The infamous Orang Minyak, for instance, used to be covered in soot or coconut oil before using crude oil instead (I don’t think it’s a very good idea to rub crude oil over your body…)[4]!
Contrary to Western stories, ghosts in Malaysian stories do not always serve as plot-driving characters or omniscient narrators. They usually express traditional beliefs or superstitions. For example, many hantu are related to birth or pregnancy, reflecting the high infant mortality rate back in the day [5]. Other hantus may feature in cautionary tales to prevent children from playing outside after sunset, lest they be kidnapped beneath a ghost’s pendulous bosom… There is often a notion of harm that is done to the victim of a Malaysian ghost. In the case of ghosts that ‘work’ for humans and their families, if harm is not caused to another, it is caused to the owner of the ghost themself. The Toyol is one example — this little gremlin-like creature will steal items and money for its owner in exchange for its blood.
Are people still scared of ghosts?
On a personal level, it feels as though the number of news articles talking about “Pocong Sightings” or similar events has dwindled. This could be attributed to technological advances — generally speaking, people are getting better at recognising hoaxes from real footage (even if AI generation is causing a multitude of problems on that front, but that’s a whole other story).
On the other hand, we could say that real life is, in fact, proving to be scarier than ghosts, no matter how many cultural tales one wants to spin. When we look at the violence, corruption, and poverty in the news, it’s also safe to say that we have more pressing matters to worry about than the ghosts that may or may not be lurking around the house. The most recent ‘ghost sighting’ that I stumbled upon in Malaysian news was, indeed, related to current affairs at the time — a Kemaman man dressed up as a ghost to scare those who were wandering around the village after the COVID lockdown curfew [6].
One could also reason that there is a change in attitude towards ghosts with the evolution of Malaysian values. Many Malay Muslims will claim to simultaneously “not believe” in ghosts but also “believe” that they will not be harmed by ghosts because they are good Muslims who pray, fast, and do good deeds, for example [7] (I myself am guilty of this, oops!). However, from an Islamic standpoint, Amin et al. have argued that relating the traditional Malay hantu with the soul of the dead is against Islamic teachings, since Islamic jinn are not at all related to the dead. Their paper also claims that belief in hantu can affect a Muslim’s faith [8]. Maybe more and more people are deciding that fear of God is more important than fear of ghosts?
Religious values aside, other spiritual practices have managed to raise questions in modern society. In a recent article from The Rakyat Post, the traditional Chinese practice of burning offerings and leaving food offerings for ancestors during Hungry Ghost Month sparked discussion between community members of all races. It is seen as disrespectful to take back the offerings, since one doesn’t know how long the spirits might need to eat, but some are annoyed with the lack of cleanup related to such a practice. Clearly, it may be necessary to find a way to reconcile traditions with public cleanliness [9]. Let’s hope the ghosts will be understanding about it.
To summarise, the hantu is a figure in Malay storytelling that often represents a certain belief or superstition. These creatures or spirits play a role that was created by mothers who needed a way to get their children back home before maghrib, and they had heard about this hantu from their mother, who had in turn heard about it from their mother. Ghosts do exist — maybe not tangibly, but the hantu exists as a concept thanks to its place in oral tradition. Allow me to conclude this article with a personal opinion: whether or not you believe in old wives’ tales, superstitions, or cerita hantu, Malaysian oral tradition is integral to our cultural heritage. Never stop telling stories, so that our culture will never be erased.
Bibliography: