tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518785655365609492024-02-19T04:10:59.321-08:00The Gemilang JournalUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger7125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51878565536560949.post-33866643047218336722022-11-18T10:02:00.013-08:002022-11-18T10:30:59.430-08:00Anywhere but Putrajaya – Outsider Thoughts from the Malay Heartland<div style="text-align: left;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 2;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> Prelude<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I recently went to
Johor – the core of the largest distinctly Malay polity in history: the
Sultanate of Johor-Riau; the home of the modern Malay language, the heartland
of the grand old party of Malayan and now Malaysian politics, UMNO – at the
invitation of a dear old friend of mine. We have known each other for perhaps
twenty years now, since we were small boys in khaki shorts. He is a riotous
laugh, an insightful thinker, and a talented musician.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">He also happens to be
an UMNO princeling: his father was a minister and – up until the last election
– an MP holding the family seat that his grandfather had held since its
conception. His grandfather in turn was a titanic figure in the party and in
national politics at large during the Hussein Onn and first Mahathir
administrations, a minister whose remit stretched far beyond Putrajaya into the
everyday lives of citizens around the country. Whilst the differences in our
assumed politics might be an expanse, this has never prevented us from being
fast friends, or indeed prevented me from having anything but a warm
relationship with the family. When we were at university in London, he once
decided to spin a tale that I was actually his long-lost twin brother, disowned
for converting to Catholicism. That most of his flatmates believed the claim
without scepticism is as amusing today as it was then.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">So when I asked him if
I would be able to tail along for a day of campaigning with his father as he
tried to re-win the seat he had lost, he saw no reason to say no. I came
equipped with a notebook and questions. For the sake of narrative transparency,
I should be upfront at the outset: I do not think I came back to the city with
good answers to any of my questions. Perhaps I was equipped with the wrong ones
– perhaps when I was scribbling notes the night before, I had still not yet
sufficiently left the city behind. I can perhaps only say with certainty that I
learned exactly how much I did not know or understand about the nation at
large; and that the scope of my newfound ignorance has left me dazzled and
hungry to uncover more.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">But the discovery of
ignorance is itself crossing the threshold from the mundane to the
extraordinary. It is the admission of smallness against vast creation that is
the beginning of understanding it, and your place within it.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> <b> </b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[endif]--></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 36.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 2; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I –
Moths Must Leave the Flame</span></b><b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Bags packed, doors
shut, down from the city. Leaving the city is not just leaving a place: it is
leaving an ideal, a way of life, a means of thinking. It is no great point of
geopolitical insight to point out that cities – capital cities especially – are
often a world apart from the rest of the country they inhabit. London is not
England, Shanghai is not China, Los Angeles is not America (thank Christ). The
metropole is separate and distinct, in many ways it is a conscious rejection of
stagnant, indolent nature. A great city is the greatest lie a country can build
itself, aspiration given physical form in rebar and scaffolding. Everything a
nation wishes others to see of it, everything it wishes to be – or, perhaps
more importantly, everything it wishes it wishes it could be – is embodied in
its great cities. Here we build monuments to our greatness, scraping insolently
on the dome of Heaven as if to boldly knock at its door and ask if would kindly
make room for our magnificence.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The city is bustling
and alive, full of secrets and hopes and opportunity. It is where dreams and
hopes reside, where opportunity and heartbreak alike intermingle, drawing man
from the countryside like a moth to a lamp – all-encompassing and warming and
comforting but also simultaneously searing with ultimate, almost divine
judgment. It cuts out the parts of you that cannot survive in this urban
jungle, and burns up entirely those too weak to withstand it. You are a
concrete monkey beyond argument or imagining: you have spent almost all your
life in one capital city or another; basking in the confluence of massed
humanity working, breathing, living together to create a place greater than the
sum of its buildings and inhabitants. And yet only the moths that leave the
lamp may feed and survive. Those that linger forever in the comfort will
starve. The city might feed the belly and fill the wallet but it is rarely
nourishment for the soul. The hero must leave the safety of home and hearth to
complete his quest, the king cannot rule forever from within the castle walls,
answers will not be found at the centre of the universe unless you have
travelled its roads beforehand. So down from the city: make heavy your foot and
push the tarmac beneath your wheels, leave behind the city and troubles and
dive into the vast, pale unknown. Gather yourself and step past the threshold.
Wisdom and terror alike await you there. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The first sign of the
change is signposted to you by the handiwork of the architects. The plate glass
skyscrapers fade into ugly concrete blocks that themselves disappear to make
way for low-rises with pink roof tiles. You slip back through time, as if the
tentative steps of progress falter and halt, lingering in the balance for a
moment like a pendulum caught in its swing, before fly-wheeling back against
itself. As the miles pass by so do the years. The bubble of the metropole
recedes, flitters, and then pops entirely without your noticing. English
disappears, as do the towering overpasses that blot out the horizon. Instead,
first rows on rows of oil palms, then nothing less than the sheer enormity of
sky and primordial jungle. Gradually at first, and then all at once, nature
reasserts itself as if rebuffing our crude attempts to resist her. Our
skyscrapers dwarf beside the limestone mountains carved by aeons and the hand
of God, these sentinels of granite and time that in silent standing refute any
idea that we have any real victory in taming the wild. As it pours out of the
city into the countryside, the massive highway narrows into four lanes and
scrabbles-cuts across the hills, a tiny thread of civilisation pulling itself
winding about the mountains snaking between islands of habitation, each a
little more obscure than the last. You zoom past these places – little more
than names on a map, exits on a highway. You know intellectually that there are
whole lives in these sordid little hamlets: lives with every bit of the drama
and glory and desolation as yours. In the city these thoughts must wash away.
There are too many people for any of them to truly make sense. It is only in
crowds where one can feel true solitude; and true loneliness. But here, alone
as you are cutting across the endless jungled hills, the concrete monkey
returns to the trees of his forefathers and looks around seeking a tribe,
longing to understand another. To imagine, haltingly and falteringly as you do,
that there is someone else amidst the endless ancestral savannah with whom to
share your thoughts. The alternative is the abject terror of being truly alone
in the universe; and the second, more devastating wound of being conscious
enough to realise it.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Slough off your
preconceptions, as the years and as progress wash away as the blur pushed past
your windows changes from grey to green. Remove arrogant suppositions about
what you imagine about where you are going and who will be there: that you have
gone down from the city is admission that you know nothing. Remove even more
arrogant assumptions about what they think of you in turn: here you know less
than nothing. Make your mind as blank as the nature around you should be. You
remember a game you played on long road trips to Penang when you were younger.
Four-and-a-half hours is a lifetime to a child, and the fanciful flights we
take to pass such time can often burn themselves into memory; our first true
attempts at creating something bounded and ordered in our minds. In your mind’s
eye, the streetlamps with their metal arms branching out in pale imitation of
the welcoming eaves of tree branches fade away. So too do the steel girders
that bound the road, barriers against nature as much to keep it out as to keep
us in, carefully within the narrow strip of civilisation racing across the
land. The harsh blue and green of the road signs, artificial and garish in
their screams to stand out as you race by at a hundred miles an hour; they too
begin to disappear, eaten up and consumed by the calm pale celeste of the sky,
and the verdant rainforest baize of the hills. There is no need for nature to
scream her colours. They are so pure and essential as to not deign to compete
for our notice at all. We are primally and forever drawn to them, supplicants
before the feet of something at which we can only pantomime. Billboards too,
these paltry flags of consumerism, those disappear from view: there is no new
high-rise, no organic face cream, no multi-level marketing scheme that will
save you and all your friends, enquire within; nothing so grand that they can peddle
as to be a greater advertisement than the horizon itself, meandering before you
with eternity.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Finally, the endless
road straightens. You see the mirages of false-water in the tropical heat,
shimmering bands in your windscreen dotting the black strip that stretches
before you. This too, at last, scrapes itself from your imagination – only the
vast expanse of nature now, as the child you once were imagines a world before
man, before building, before time: of great ancient beasts and savage
dinosaurs, perhaps. Inside the car, the audiobook you play begins to fade out
of earshot. Only the subtle hum of vulcanised rubber against tarmac rings in
your ears. You stare straight ahead, straight at the vista and majesty, as
inside you an instinct from before memory awakens. Subtly at first, and then
consumingly; your hands grip the steering wheel, you race ahead. Chasing,
seeking, you are hunting now, hunting as your forefathers did on the plains and
in the trees, and as they were looking for prey you look for answers. Maybe
they can be found over the horizon – ancestors and answers alike – so the hum
of the engine kicks up and you surge ahead, palms full of sweat and gripped
determination. For five seconds and for forever, all other thoughts subside.
There is a purity in the liminal, an earnestness in forgetting the trappings of
your imagined civilisation for a solitary, sacred moment.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">There is release.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Bliss.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">And then all at once
you return to yourself, and the audiobook plays again in your ears, and you ease
up gently on the pedal and reclaim your place in the world. You are chimeric,
half-this and half-another, savage and saviour all at once; you must be to
survive even a moment in this world of imminent contradiction. You have left in
search of answers, but when you have found them, will you still think yourself
worthy to return to the city? Or will your newfound knowledge attaint that
which you held so dear; will you scorn whence you came, decry it as
bacchanalian and indolent?</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Merge into the slow
lane, wipe down your hands, still your racing heart. The answers will come, one
way or another.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 36.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 2; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">II –
The House Your Father Built</span></b><b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">It is early in the
morning, at least for a weekend. You turn in off the coastal highway that cuts
across the bottom of Johor Bahru and of the peninsula, up a narrow hilly road
to reach the gates of a nondescript grey residential tower. There is no pretension
in the architecture here: this is a concrete cuboid filled with homes and
discretion. Two guardhouses flank the entrance. You wind down your windscreen
and motion for one of the guards to come near. He moves lethargically at first,
or perhaps sceptically; you are, after all, an unfamiliar face.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">“Pickup flat Dato’,”
you say, as you were instructed. This trick wouldn’t work back in Kuala Lumpur
– there were bound to be at least a handful living in any decent luxury
condominium. But here, even across the strait as you are from the globalised
hustle of Singapore, things are sleepier. Time moves glacially to your still
metropolitan senses, the world meanders by as a flowing river and not a surging
torrent. The uniformed guards perk up when you say the words: now suddenly all
straight backs and smiles and salutes as you drive in. One of them
leaves his post as you attempt to park near the lobby, he motions for you to
follow him around the back to a parking spot. As he is beginning to unhook the
chains, your friend appears: sleep and mischief alike in his clearly
still-opening eyes. A brief pause for greetings and chat, then puzzling out
where we might catch his father’s campaign. We speed down the hill, and again
you go down from the city.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The first stop is one
of two visits to <i>orang asli</i> settlements: the Dato’ – his
father – is already there, smiles and waves, wearing a sash over the polo shirt
embroidered with his name and crowned with a headdress of woven leaves. He is
halfway through triumphantly declaring his stump speech to an enthralled crowd
beneath a bright blue awning. You get out of the car and walk over in time to
hear the closing. He reminds them to vote, to do so early in the day, to make
it a priority. He tells them to remember the good old days. As he says this, a
small crowd gathers around your friend. They <i>salam</i> in the
traditional manner, and he dips his head as if to kiss hands with each of them
as is appropriate to an elder. You cannot but mark carefully and notice that
despite this, they are the ones that are bowing at the waist and placing their
hands upon their hearts. After each hand, he moves on to the next hand in
sequence. Your scruffy, in-the-process-of-waking-up friend metamorphoses in
front of your eyes. Without pause or transition he is a different person,
walking in different shoes in this place so outside of your everyday. Your eyes
scan the landscape: a muddy river, single-storey houses with zinc roofs. You
squint your eyes up, up against the rays of the sun to see a hawk circling
overhead. A few of the villagers look up too, and point at the creature, saying
something to one another out of earshot. A good omen, perhaps? Or is this your
own infantilising, presumptuous urban arrogance again. Maybe they just think
it’s a nice-looking bird.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">You stand nearby,
notebook open and begin to jot down what you can hear of the remainder of the
Dato’s speech. You will hear the same points again and again throughout the
day: stability, a serious government, ‘don’t you remember the good old days
when I was here to help?’. Some of the crowd looks at you with bemusement,
scribbling away as you are in your book. Your friend calls you over. He is
speaking with someone he tells you is the village chief. You shake the chief’s
hand and return his smile, and bow ever so slightly at the neck– you have
always felt slightly awkward attempting the <i>salam</i> as your
companion does. There is something foreign about the gesture, even as you have
seen it done a thousand times around you. Even the children here know how place
a palm against the forehead – you were taught to grip firmly, shake twice, and
look people in the eye. If the chief takes any offense to your lack of cultural
astuteness, he gives no sign of it. The chief beckons us to follow him. We slip
behind the tent, past the modest crowd, take a turn behind the village hall and
arrive facing a narrow, poorly paved road stretching up a gentle slope. To
either side of the path, ugly squat buildings painted in fading pastel colours
sprout, their shuttered glass windows dusty and at odd angles. Plastic bottles
and carrier bags and crushed tin cans – the detritus of post-industrial
society, omnipresent even in what your concrete monkey brain childishly
identifies as ‘the wilderness’ – are littered in the concrete storm drains. It
is a scene you might see in an advertisement for Oxfam or some other charity in
the West. You have seen this street before, plastered on a London bus stop, the
background against which a sad looking child from a depraved third world country
looked on pleadingly for donations. A Hollywood producer might well think it an
excellent setting for Nondescript Tropical Country at Civil War, with a bit of
added rubble and CGI fire.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">‘Your grandfather
built these houses,’ says the chief to your companion, motioning to the
structures you had only just dismissed as set-dressing for a blockbuster action
film. ‘He made sure that our rights were protected as native people.’ The
self-importance in your gaze melts away as you re-examine the buildings. On the
banks of this river, amidst fields of wild grass and jungle vines, men with
strained breath and sweaty brow dug trenches and laid foundations. They with
their labour made walls and roofs where none had been. So what if nature in her
cruelty, with jesting nonchalance threw storms at the windows? They stubbornly
still stood, still kept the inside warm and dry against wind and
rain. Men made a road from a dirt path, and a dirt path from nothing
at all. What have you made? What have you drawn from the ground, made into
being with your will? Genesis tells us that ‘cursed is the ground for thy sake;
thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee.’ These men, even knowing
this; still in defiance chose to defy decay, and entropy, and the eventual ruin
of all things. You imagine those men, your friend’s grandfather included;
standing here all those long decades ago, amidst brush and jungle. You think
that they would have had to play your childhood game in reverse – where you
wiped out mankind’s fingerprints to return what you saw to primordial harmony,
they gazed upon the seething chaos and with their minds fashioned order. They
looked at the wilderness and saw civilisation, however small and meagre.
Destruction is cleansing, but creation is an altogether more difficult thing
entirely. The chief is not an altogether old man: by the looks of it he would
have been a boy barely out of smallclothes when these houses were built. He has
a straight back, a confident stride, and kind eyes; and speaks to us in raspy,
lisping Malay. He tells us he used to smoke ten packs of cigarettes in a day,
before one day he decided to quit because they were bad for him and he never
smoked another cigarette again. You believe him: there is a quiet iron to his
stance that suggests that he could break open coconuts with sheer
determination. For him to remember the man who built these houses speaks
volumes about the megalithic stature of that accomplishment. These are no mere
hovels. These are light-houses of progress, blazing forth into the
ever-encroaching dark, screaming: ‘We are here! We exist! We will not be
snuffed out!’ The chief tells us that he recently studied native land title in
Australia and New Zealand, and used the lessons he learned to gain better
protection for his land. Your ears perk up at this: these are topics you
debated and studied in law school. You catch yourself being surprised that this
native chief would know about native land titles, before the realisation
shatters another pillar in the temple of your hubris. Of course he would know
about it! – he whose wellbeing and livelihood might well depend on the knowing,
as compared to your dispassionate gazing from afar, seeking legal curiosity.
What appalling superiority to imagine even for a second that you have some special
claim to this understanding; that you are anointed by virtue of secret
knowledge and a scroll from England declaring you have sufficiently studied the
letters of law.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Interrupting your
spiral of self-loathing, the chief points up to a battered electricity meter
affixed to one of the houses. ‘And your father put the power in for us, as well
as the plumbing,’ he continues, before turning to your friend. ‘So now we just
have to wait for what the next generation will do for us,’ he says with a
toothy grin and a gentle chuckle. The both of you laugh along, and your friend
says that it will be a few years at least. You do not know if he feels it,
gathering around him. Perhaps he is used to it by now. But you can see the
swirling expectation of legacy, the subtle ancestral hope for continuity and
stability. You wonder if you would remember the MP in the city that managed to
pave a road for you half a century later. You wonder if this makes you less
grateful, less grounded, less true than the chief and his people. Is this place
where gratitude is a function of generations, not electoral cycles, a more
essential, honest, straightforward form of being?</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Some children have
spotted you and your companion talking to the chief. They shyly walk up to the
both of you, diadems of woven leaves in their hands. You take it in turns to
genuflect on the ground and allow the children to crown you with grass and
vine. In Ancient Rome, the crown of grass was only awarded to a victorious
general by proclamation of the whole army after he had saved his legion. The
crown was made of the grasses and flowers of the battlefield where his glory
had been found. It was a singularly rare honour, presented only to a saviour by
those whom he had saved. Your headdress now is not this, to be sure. But in
this place of memory and legacy, of generation and ancestry; you cannot but
help feel unfairly honoured with an act of even unknowing historical magnitude.
You are no saviour – if anything you have come here to save yourself. Some
graciousness, then. Before you rise, you reach out your giant, bear-like paw
and shake the tiny hands of the children. “Thank you very much,” you rumble in
your baritone Received Pronunciation. The children giggle at this – amused
perhaps by your funny language, or the funnier way by which you speak it. Their
task done, they scamper off; immune to or ignorant of your internal monologue.
Perhaps it does not matter which. Perhaps they need no saviours.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Applause emerges from
under the tent. The speech is finished, and the Dato’ is now shaking hands and
kissing babies. You walk over with your friend and shake his hand, greeting him
as he rattles off a cuttingly sardonic reply with a twinkle in his eyes. You
laugh and thank him for letting you tag along; he tells you he hopes you have
the stamina for it. Suddenly a cry of delight erupts from a group of children:
someone from the campaign crew has produced a loudspeaker and is carrying it
aloft his shoulder as it blares a rather unsubtle tune. The children dance
about repeating the lyrics as they walk towards the tent to a reception of
bemused adult laughter: ‘<i>Kita undi BN</i>,’ they sing, over and again.
Wonderful, you think to yourself. The voters of tomorrow, making their
decisions today by virtue of a mediocre pop anthem. Cynicism can emerge
unbidden even amidst the air of revelation that permeates your thoughts. You
let the Dato’ get back to the important work of campaigning and slip into the
entourage. Together, you all meander to a wooden jetty on stilts jutting out
into the sea, for a bit of rest and a photo opportunity with the village
leaders. Fishing boats trawl in the distance under the midday sun. The bright
blue campaign flags that dot the houses and pathways blur and fade against the
pale of the sky and the deep of the sea. The stillness descends again as you
collect your thoughts. A pang of guilt, perhaps, at your bitter thoughts
towards the innocence of childhood dancing around music. On the next pier over,
some children strip off their shirts and begin to jump into the water,
splashing and screaming with delight. Between the man toying with his
ponderings, scrabbling to make sense of the world around him; and the boys
delighting in their childhood joys with divebombs and star jumps: which of the
two seem more at peace, more certain of themselves and where they stand in the
world? Are your musings so sophisticated, so evolved as to render the thoughts
and concerns of others small, invalid, surplus to requirements? You let your
thoughts drown out in the wind. The waves lap the shore, the gulls call; the
blue is everlasting, uninterrupted, unsullied. You move on to the next village.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEievBa82ay4RbDHUCZjZuAVfIvBGOAu1Gcmsvq27QJPOB9pqB1IVWLTEVJ6eNjTZuiZkyrxmalUyQtHGGuVinQ9Dg8bfQ-zHDEYqau9OU3YYaxHHSolGVz9jRU0MamAzHr6jquwdmsDyAX5hhAEgCiuadmSevaw1VyNiB_aHfY883Dn2h08pVCmJCM" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="709" data-original-width="940" height="483" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEievBa82ay4RbDHUCZjZuAVfIvBGOAu1Gcmsvq27QJPOB9pqB1IVWLTEVJ6eNjTZuiZkyrxmalUyQtHGGuVinQ9Dg8bfQ-zHDEYqau9OU3YYaxHHSolGVz9jRU0MamAzHr6jquwdmsDyAX5hhAEgCiuadmSevaw1VyNiB_aHfY883Dn2h08pVCmJCM=w640-h483" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 36.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 2; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">III
– <i>Orang Kita</i></span></b><b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">As you get back into
your car, bottles of water with blue labels and white scales in hand, you join
the convoy of cars pealing out of the village. The children wave and chase
behind you as you drive off. You wonder if you will ever see any of them again,
whether perhaps by chance one of the faces you glanced at today might one day
do something great and wonderful so as to make them famous and renowned. You
judge this a strange impulse: there are a thousand anonymous faces in the city
that you pass by every day without pause for thought. You have never given
these people the consideration you now grant these children. Is it the bias of
generosity most will grant to youth? Is it the personal, intimate closeness
that human interaction takes on amidst the rural vastness; the profundity lost
amidst massed humanity? The convoy moves with speed and purpose: too fast for
continued pondering, your focus is on the car ahead of you and keeping in
formation. You engender more than a few angry horns as the train of vehicles
snakes through the roughshod back roads of rural Johor. As you near the next
stop, a group of youths on motorcycles is waiting bearing yet more of the
omnipresent blue flags and banners. The lead cars horn jauntily, and the
motorcyclists rev their engines in response before streaming off ahead of us,
whooping as they go.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">‘It’s just a basic
form of power politics,’ answers your friend when you ask him about them. You
ask him if they just round up the local <i>rempit</i>s and hand them flags
and cartons of cigarettes. He laughs and tells you that no, they are arranged
by the campaign team.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">‘Like a Roman
Triumph,’ you opine. The two cracked lanes of tarmac turn into a single dirt
trail; we are a column of steel and petrol, rumbling through these jungled
paths as tiny faces pop up past our windows, drawn to and observing the commotion.
A Triumphal procession indeed: you have crossed a Rubicon to come here, and now
cross over a river in truth as you continue towards the next village. Do they
bear the treasures of Germania and Gaul, golden coins to be thrown by
centurions to the cheering crowds? Are you then become Vercingetorix, the
captured foreigner on display to the Roman masses as an object of the
inevitable conquest of their Imperial culture? You can only hope Caesar does
not strangle you in front of the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, as he did
your unfortunate predecessor.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">You get to hear the
first half of the stump speech this time. You are ushered by obliging campaign
staff along with your friend to waiting seats near the front. You are not a
small creature by Malaysian standards at the best of times – amongst the
villagers here you might as well be a different species. You bashfully take
your seat, trying as much as possible to slink down and crouch so as not to
block the view of the five rows of the audience seated behind you. The Dato’
speaks passionately and forthrightly, with a touch of humour and a tinge of
nostalgia. Underneath another blue tent, with the same spread of rice and
curried chicken and bright green and red syrup off to the side; he asks the
gathered crowd if they remember when he used to come and visit bringing aid and
supplies. They nod along appreciatively, eyes focused and intent. They are
earnest, honest gazes: free of the cynicism you would expect were you to look
at yourself at a political rally in a mirror. There is the temptation to
imagine this as another form of innocence, but you are far enough away from the
city to understand that there is nothing infantilising about being honest about
what you need in this world. It is not your place to judge whether a bag of
rice is truly worth a vote simply because it would not get yours. Moral
indignation and learned debate ring empty to emptier stomachs. The Dato’ says
that he came to visit even when he wasn’t their MP. An elderly woman sat near
you pipes up, announcing that she remembered when the Dato’s father visited
them as well, all those years ago. The Dato’ responds with a quick joke, that
the grandmother was too young and couldn’t have been born then; to great
laughter from the entire assembly.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The Dato’ then makes a
point that his opponent is not ‘<i>Orang kita,’</i> – ‘Our People’. You
pause for a second on the phrase. You remember as child, the difference
between <i>kami</i>: us, but excluding the listener; and <i>kita</i>:
us, inclusive of the listener; gave you a great deal of trouble in primary
school. Grammatical concepts of language can often be difficult to explain even
for people who use them instinctively; even more so when the feature is
something missing from the language of another. You have always noticed the
difference as a consequence of having to mentally translate ‘we’ or ‘us’ into
Malay one way or another. ‘<i>Kita</i>’ is the domain of the politician, the
leader, the teacher. <i>‘Kita’</i> beckons and welcomes like a
friendly smile. The Dato’ repeats the point again and again, pointing at
different members of his entourage: he is Our People, as is he, as is he. He
points at your friend, announcing that he too is Our People – this is his son,
he tells the crowd, as they applaud in turn.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">‘He might be a city
person, but he is still Our People. He is my son, and I’ve brought him here to
see you all.’</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">And then suddenly time
stands still, and the world around you seems an inch and a thousand yards away
all at once. The Dato’ points at you, and with the tiniest of grins declares to
the crowd: ‘But this guy! This guy is a Rocket Guy! No, he’s not Our People,’
he chuckles. ‘But no, don’t worry, he is my son’s friend. He came here to see
how you are too, to see the problems of Our People.’ The crowd laughs, and you
give a tiny wave as appreciative and non-hostile as you can make it. Your
friend is barely containing his own laughter next to you. You remind him that
you enjoy not getting stabbed whilst on holiday.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">After the village, the
next stop you make is at an UMNO building named after your friend’s
grandfather. A monochromatic blue image of his face serves as the logo: it is
on mugs, on doors, on notepads and envelopes. There is a fine portrait of this
man hanging in KL at your friend’s house – there the artist has found his
grandfather vivid, larger than life, in soft warm tones. His eyes are narrow
with focus and determination, his mouth curled mid-sentence, his finger raised
in fervent gesture. He is an image of righteousness, of political power, of
will. But this could not have been all that he was. As surely as your friend
slipped from one pair of shoes into another at the village, this grand old
statesman was also father and grandfather. You could not tell it from the
painting, not from this brush-made snapshot redolent with symbolism and
gravitas. He is both less and more than a man there – two-dimensional but
eternal in that stasis. You look at the same man’s face on the mug of tea that
was brought for you. Here he is even less real, the image flattened into deep blue
and negative space. If you unfocus your eyes, the lines and shapes that make up
the curves of the man’s face and features begin to look like squiggles in the
sand, hastily thrown together by a careless child. It is un-facelike in the
manner the faces on money are. So omnipresent and repeated by virtue of their
importance, they cyclically find themselves mundane and almost unnoticeable
again. Sharpen your gaze, what do you see? The visage is patriarchal, stoic,
perhaps a bit grim. It stares forever into the middle distance with its
almost-eyes; never aging even as the man who once wore that face now takes his
eternal rest. When our cities fall, when our nations crumble; when all we have
built around us falls unto nothing more than a thinly strewn layer of debris
sandwiched between the petrified stone of the ages – perhaps some future
archaeologist will uncover a potsherd with this face on it. Will that be the
last gasp of this great man’s legacy? What will they think of him – dictator or
celebrity, prophet or prince?</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">You wonder how he
would have wanted to be remembered. As he was in the painting, perhaps:
eternally in a moment of triumph. Perhaps as he was on the mug, foundational
and the progenitor of a great legacy. Or perhaps – and here you admit to slipping
into misty-eyed sentimentality – at the end he wished to be remembered as the
man, who suffered and triumphed and loved and cried in the equal measure as all
men do. Which of those men was the real one, if any? Can man truly be all of
these things at once, can one be more real than others?</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">You consider your
nation, consider what it is and what it could be. You know, sitting here in
this place, you hold a different idea of what the nation should be than the
people around you. You dream of a secular, diverse nation; a vision of a
Malaysia fundamentally at odds with the one these men and women are trying to
build. You dream of a country where there will be no need for <i>Orang
Kita</i> – we will all be us, we will all be <i>Kita</i> and
never again <i>Kami</i>. It is naïve, optimistic perhaps. You do not think
this means it is any less worth the fighting for.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">You are convinced, you
remain convinced even now as you write this, that you are right and they are
wrong – essentially wrong, in an almost Platonic sense. You are convinced that
your way would not only benefit yourself but in the long run everyone else as
well. It has taken you three hundred kilometres to discover the simple,
essential truth that they believe the same thing too. It is an almost
embarrassing realisation to stumble upon. In the midst of the city,
you believe you see clearly. You stand from the top of dozens of floors of
steel rebar and poured concrete and gaze across the Klang Valley. You see the
dazzle and play of the lights, you see the illuminations in the distance. You
pick out landmarks, each more fantastic than the last; and think this is the
universe. This is the totality of creation. But that is only one image: another
is the narrow road with the houses his grandfather built. The zinc roofs and
tarpaulin sheets and the open drains. Which is real? Can both be at once? We
are vast, we contain multitudes; but you doubt if Whitman ever contemplated
such enormity, such variety.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The Dato’ bursts into
the room with aplomb and we rise to greet him again. He asks you why you have
come to follow along on his campaign; you tell him you are writing about the
Malay-Islam dichotomy in modern Malay identity, and whether Malay-ness and
Muslim-ness are competing forces to Malay voters in this election. He looks at
you for half a second, and then turns to one of his companions with an almost
annoyed smirk: ‘You see <i>lah </i>what young people nowadays are
talking about. Come along, we are going for lunch.’ You are not sure if he is
impressed, bemused, or concerned – perhaps all three, all at once. You finish
your tea and head out to join the convoy. You were not lying, not at the time
at least: and perhaps those thoughts will find their way to page one day as
well. But there are more important questions to ask here, even if they are only
asked silently.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">You arrive at a
nondescript Malay eatery surrounded by a bare carpark. Under a five-foot
walkway, tables and chairs have been set up opposite a stall selling what seems
like every variety of curry and fried fish ever conceived. Tables have been
cleared out for you, your friend motions to come along to have a look at the
food on offer. You notice immediately that you are the only non-Malay in the
establishment – and perhaps more jarringly in your mind, you notice exactly how
subtly lost you appear to be. You admit with some awkwardness that you have not
often been a patron at restaurants like these. In a Chinese restaurant, for
one; there is no way the prices would be straightforwardly listed honestly on
the wall – no opportunity to play favourites with customers that way. You have
to bashfully ask for a fork and spoon, as a child would. You politely query
what lurks within the wonderful smelling, steaming banana leaf packages. After
you eat, you will go to the counter and pick up a pack of bright pink <i>kuih</i>.
As you motion to your back pocket to pay, the kindly uncle will wave you off
and tell you to just take it to your table: the bill will be settled later. No
doubt this is mostly because you are eating with the Dato’, but the trust
implicit in the action astounds you. This would never happen in the city –
money upfront thank you very much. It is a strange form of chaos, impenetrable
and ineffable to you; but inhabitable and natural to everyone else. You try to
bring your surroundings to order, to understand what is happening through your
lenses of comprehension; but this is a falteringly applicable exercise at best.
It is arrogant at the outset to assume this chaos, as opposed to a different
form of order. Surely there are rules – even if you do not understand them. But
how are you to reconcile these two diametric conceptions of order – how can two
people look at a thing, one seeing order and another chaos, and yet both be
right?</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Your friend asks you
what you would like to eat. You point at the fried chicken – a safe option
under all the circumstances. Your tender, thoroughly colonised stomach is far
more used to cheese than chili. As you eat together, he munches on bunches of
raw <i>ulam</i>. It’s not something you have ever really gotten around to
appreciating as much as you should. You still do prefer vegetables roasted, or
stir fried in oyster sauce and salted fish. You remark to your friend how odd
it is to be here; how you can tell you are definitely not <i>orang kita</i> here.
You say it is perhaps strange to imagine that you are as out of place here as
one of these folk might be in a Chinese <i>kopitiam, </i>all roast
pork and <i>char siu pao</i>. These parallel worlds we inhabit, adjacent
but with a chasm in between. The little differences in the way we live our
lives, the subtle impressions they must make on the way we think. Our basic
assumptions, our fundamental truths. We are a nation of imminent contradiction
and yet we have been forced by the hand of history to make do, to make
something – anything. To do anything less would be to admit defeat, to give
into the chaos. The house your father built will not stand without a nation
beneath it. Can you ever reconcile <i>kari ikan</i> and soy sauce
steamed-tilapia?</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Fish head curry,
maybe. Maybe that is what the nation must be, strange and exotic and staring
ever upwards, ever ahead. Perhaps there is a better image, one that doesn’t
invoke thoughts of gasping for air, or of decapitation. If one exists, it does
not spring to your mind now. You are not nearly as good a writer as you would
like to think. You thank the Dato’ for the food; and move onwards with the
campaign.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhslb_HoVu9nupFGxl3uujcf06M4pdAibZ4spvmajxKHovcnP5716gCJgo6IlOjznEeynGcBnK28JrZkaCR1fqkmiNkoOXQaSGVNfGlCKq36aRx8Xo8F5q5FSEQSBHCeKRITnlF0PFcEmx39IXodt-OYsirx8kGbxOQXMRllnj7pur_ulC-0iVT5G4" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="709" data-original-width="940" height="483" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhslb_HoVu9nupFGxl3uujcf06M4pdAibZ4spvmajxKHovcnP5716gCJgo6IlOjznEeynGcBnK28JrZkaCR1fqkmiNkoOXQaSGVNfGlCKq36aRx8Xo8F5q5FSEQSBHCeKRITnlF0PFcEmx39IXodt-OYsirx8kGbxOQXMRllnj7pur_ulC-0iVT5G4=w640-h483" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 36.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 2; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">IV –
His hand will be against every man, and every man’s hand against him</span></b><b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The following hours of
the campaign are a blur of handshakes and smiles and the same speech.
Stability, governance, remember the past. At one point you follow the Dato’
into a large hall filled with women baking cakes. The almost schoolgirlish
excitement that bubbles from the room as he makes his entrance is amusing to
watch. From the reactions, you would have thought a Hollywood star or sex icon
had deigned to make an appearance at this community outreach baking centre. You
agree with your friend that the cakes smell incredible. His powers of
influence, however, do not extend to getting you slices of baked goods. The
lamentable limits of nepotism linger in your mind in the exact opposite way
that the taste of delicious, buttery sponge fails to linger in your mouth.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Later in the evening,
with the sun having long set behind the horizon, you gather for a small event
in what could charitably be described as a carpark. It is a patch of rough
tarmac in between storm drains off the highway. An entrepreneurial sort has set
up a stall selling <i>sirap bandung</i> and <i>nasi kukus</i>. A
few awnings have been set up and tables and chairs are strewn about for
patrons. There are twenty, maybe thirty people gathered here. Everyone present
bar yourself is Malay – it is an event organised by a Malay NGO working in
conjunction with the campaign. It is a modest turnout, not unsurprising given
that it is late in the evening. The Dato’s Hilux pulls up to the cleared centre
of the asphalt plot, his image draped across the back, all smiles and raised
thumbs. A speaker and microphone are set up in the back of the truck. He hops
onto the back, rubber slippers doing him no favours with slipping. He steadies
himself and begins his speech. It proceeds much as has done since the morning:
stability, remember the good old days, go out and vote. There are some titters
of laughter, some gentle applause. An entirely benign, moderately
successful <i>ceramah</i>, as far as these things go.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">And then he makes
the <i>orang roket</i> joke again. This time the reaction is different:
in the daylight and in the villages; the remark was met with a few jocular boos
and general laughter. You would laugh and wave a bit, and look at the ground in
feigned embarrassment. This time, however, the crowd goes quiet. Suddenly and
all at once, you feel sixty eyes all searching for you, scanning the crowd to
see who exactly is not <i>orang kita</i>. You are being hunted now, subtly
and quietly. Our darker impulses emerge with the sunset: the evening is a time
for secret plotting and the unearthing of hidden resentments. You wonder, for a
moment, exactly what form of bogeyman each person might be imagining. You know
intellectually that the rhetoric many of these people are exposed to renders
your identification as a Rocket Man a veritable mark of the beast. There is
blood on your hands. You are as Cain, marked by God for committing your
primordial sin. ‘And now thou art cursed from the earth, which hath opened her
mouth to receive thy brother’s blood from thy hand.’ You wonder, morbidly, if
any of the silent gazing eyes had relations who suffered during the Communist
Emergency. Thank you, Ustaz Hadi, for that particular infective racist
brain-worm.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The silence lingers
for a moment longer than it should. The Dato’ breaks the tension, announces you
are a friend of his son’s, that you are here with him and that they shouldn’t
worry. You breathe a bit easier again – after all, even the Emperor needs a
Court Jew. You glance at your friend who this time is smiling silently straight
at the floor. All things considered, that might have gone a lot worse. The
speech ends, and you are ushered together with your friend to shake hands with
the organisers and smile for some photographs. You slink away from the latter:
under the circumstances, perhaps a record of your presence would not be
entirely appreciated in retrospect. You are brought to a long trestle table.
Chairs have been laid out only on one side of its length. Plates of noodles and
small cups of strong black tea are being handed out. The Dato’ sits in the
centre as his entourage take seats beside him. You are seated at the end of the
table with your friend. It occurs to you that Leonardo himself could not have
framed a re-enactment of his Last Supper any finer. We are all seated and
facing out together, the Messiah in the centre breaking bread with his
disciples. You realise in this tortured metaphor; you are seated as Judas – the
outsider furtively consumed in his own thoughts. You suppose that thirty pieces
of silver would not go entirely unappreciated, given the piercing awkwardness
of the situation in which you have found yourself. The noodles are spicy, the
tea is sweet, the night is humid.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">As you eat, men – and
it is invariably only men – walk up and wander about the other side of the
table to where you are all seated. Some go up to the Dato’ to thank him, shake
his hand, take photographs. Some mingle and eat standing up from plates of
their own. On occasion, you notice someone looking at you – not intently,
perhaps, but with curiosity and uncertainty. When this happens and you move
your head up to catch their eye, they invariably break into a small smile and
nod their head in polite acknowledgement. You return the gesture, trying as
best you can to put the people around you at ease. Perhaps you misjudged
confusion as hostility. You know you stick out strangely amidst this crowd: as
they look at you they see an unknown quantity, an unresolved mystery. You are
two tribes of concrete monkeys noticing the strange smells and unusual howls
from the other. You realise they do not trust you, not in any malicious sense,
but in that one cannot trust what one does not understand. You are chaos now,
amidst their order. Impossible to penetrate, to comprehend, to contextualise.
Beyond their experience and so beyond their understanding; but in a way that
speaks not of their ignorance but your own strange, dispossessed existence. Do
you belong here – at this table, in this place, in this nation? Can a nation
stand secure if it is ever-ready to excise a part of itself; ever-eager to
slice away all that it deems impure until nothing remains? You want to trust
the man staring curiously at you, as much as you want him to trust you. The
tiny spark of enlightenment within you longs to imagine that you share more in
common with him than differences, that your hopes and fears are not so far
removed. Yet after today, you are not so sure if that is true. Different
monkeys, different tribes, different lives, different truths. And from this we
must build a nation?</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The final stop of the
day is at an Indian community centre. It is tucked away off the main road,
surrounded on all sides by the dense public housing high-rises inhabited by the
urban poor. The Dato’ is welcomed into a moderately sized room packed with
chairs; he is lain with a garland of blossoms and a shawl of woven cloth. He
gratefully accepts both, keeping them on throughout his speech. And yet,
despite this; and perhaps for the first time today; he is as much an outsider
here as you are. This is not entirely friendly territory. Here, the blue of the
hastily hung flags is unbidden and jarring underneath the harsh artificial
white glare of the fluorescent lights. The rumble of highway traffic,
punctuated by horns and zooming motorcycles; blends into the chatter of children
and the gossiping of women and the hum of the struggling air conditioning. This
is not as captive an audience as the Dato’ has been used to today. His jokes
fall a little flatter. Applause and cheers only really come from the first few
rows. A child begins to cry – her brother has taken the phone on which they
were watching YouTube together and has decided to play a game instead. We learn
of the unjust cruelties of reality at far too young an age.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The Dato’ speaks of
Prime Ministerial candidates. This part of the speech in particular, you note,
receives a cool response. There is a moment when he makes a remark about an
opposing candidate for PM: he pauses for a laugh for a heartbeat longer than he
should have, and the rumbling judgment of tepid quiet lingers. He recovers
quickly, of course, but you cannot help but wonder if he feels as you did under
the tent eating noodles. If you cannot trust what you cannot understand, can
outsiders in this nation ever really understand the position we are made to
inhabit? The tale since Merdeka has been that the harmony of this nation relies
on our peculiar social contract. Our gratitude must be generational, then and
now and forever into eternity. We were not an integral part of this nation, so
the story goes, not princes of the soil; and so that Providence deigned to
grant us inclusion into this new project of Malaysia at all should be prize
enough. Be content, inconspicuous, obsequious. This is the house <i>our –
kami – </i>forefathers built, sayeth the great voice of history, that we
have thought fit in which to let you stay. Are we not generous?</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">But what of your
forefathers? Won they no glory, built they no kingdoms? Did they not too bring
forth order from the chaos here, as theirs did? A strange order of contrast and
contradiction and compromise. Was that not the dream, the city on the hill?
Wherefore has it gone? Was it real in the first place, or were we labouring
under illusions of post-colonial ecstasy, so bound up were we in the defeat of
our oppressors that we had not considered whether we would co-opt their tools
for ourselves?</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The speech ends,
photos are taken, hands are shaken. You bid the Dato’ good-bye: he will
continue on to a late-night strategy meeting for the next day of campaigning
before retiring for the evening. He was right: you do not have the stamina for
this. Right now, the only thing you truly desire is a stiff drink to warm the
soul and belly to long-awaited rest. You and your friend get into the car and
you begin the drive back. On the way, you talk a bit about the day and your
thoughts. Your friend says that his father feels fundamentally betrayed by his
electorate. That having sacrificed a successful career in business and spending
the better part of his adult life in public service – having missed birthdays
and concerts and anniversaries to bring bags of rice to the village; that the
voters would still decide to throw him out of his father’s seat.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">A day ago you might
have burst into friendly but serious refutation of his ideas. But you know now
how little we can see from within our own cities, magnificent as they might be.
You have had the luxury of leaving the city, of descending from Xanadu unto the
steppe and the plain to seek the truth. You have crossed the threshold by
happenstance and good fortune. But can the Lord truly ever leave the castle?
You do the Dato’ the courtesy of at least considering how shattering, on a
human level, it must have been to have been so thoroughly rejected by the
democratic process within which your family had participated for half a
century. Bright blue flags billow beneath the glow of the streetlamps as you
race down the highway. You point out the window. You tell your friend that
throughout the day the speeches have been about stability – and yet the reality
is that people understand that these very same blue flags represent the people
that, in one way or another, caused the instability that plagues this nation.
That it is difficult to talk about trust when that party to this day continues
to defend a convicted felon. That it is a struggle to look back with nostalgia
on the past when the past, present, and future all blur into an uninterrupted,
uninspiring melange of stagnation and infighting. You tell him you know his
father is not personally responsible for any of this, that you still think he
is a good and honourable man. But just as his grandfather is made a symbol, in
paintings and on buildings and on mugs, so too his father has and must become
one. That is the job, unfortunate and plain and simple as it is. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">‘You cannot blame the
voters for listening to you when you say you are a party man, and then deciding
that that party no longer works for them,’ you say.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">When he tells you that
his father feels betrayed despite his hard work, it is as with many things
today fundamentally a question of trust. His father trusted that by doing real
work: elbows in the mud, boots on the ground work; he would be rewarded with
the right to continue doing that work. His voters trusted that he would
represent their views. Both failed the other in a simple, subtle way. They
failed despite doing what they were meant to do, what they thought was right
and good. They failed despite both trying to bring order to the chaos; and in
their failure their trust faded. Can you build a nation on anything but trust?
You do not sign contracts with people you trust: if you trust someone in the
true, essential meaning of the phrase; a handshake and their word should be
enough. You put ink to paper for certainty, for security. Physicality serves in
place of trust of spirit.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">What then is a
constitution to a nation? Perhaps it is fundamentally an admission that this
many concrete monkeys cannot truly trust one another. We write using our
faltering human tongues our dreams, our aspirations, our principles. We record
for posterity those values and thoughts which we hold sacred and true, even if
we do so knowing we may not live up to these grand ideals. We trust in these
precepts and hold fast to them, that we might all find a point of singular,
shared sanity amidst the maelstrom. But what happens when suspicion and doubt,
when the fundamental lack of trust is assumed and written into such a secularly
sacred text? Almost a century ago, and against the protestations of the Tunku
and their Highnesses the Malay Rulers, Lord Reid hung around the neck of a
new-born nation a millstone of ethnic mistrust – all in the name of perceived
equity and justice. He did not have the chance to go down from the City. He did
not see the order amidst the chaos that stood before him, and in imposing his
own form of order he sparked a blaze of chaos that this patchwork nation has
had to struggle with for now fifteen struggled attempts at democracy. If the
sacred scrolls tell us that trust is beyond conception, beyond reason, beyond
compromise; if they tell us that we are essentially different and separate,
incapable of shared truth by virtue of blood itself: who are we to argue?</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">You bid your friend a
good-night and turn towards your hotel. You have found something here on your
trip, to be sure. Not revelation exactly, but perhaps the revelation of
revelation to come.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEju9-8GCJSOA0k1cax3rshwRU41t4yQw71SvE7N7U2q6acJjnw1QKJ09EydDAESHoiYAFBronUqW3E6cDyYMmd8VjZQ3D1hk_Ym5gTtfd9GGQsvqLkjd9EOy0wCEz4DgesmKzB34Ciyh4DgwX6gcYwdxd9EWU49-kR-s5ZGs1TBxQYkaxZZS1v_Sw4" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="709" data-original-width="940" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEju9-8GCJSOA0k1cax3rshwRU41t4yQw71SvE7N7U2q6acJjnw1QKJ09EydDAESHoiYAFBronUqW3E6cDyYMmd8VjZQ3D1hk_Ym5gTtfd9GGQsvqLkjd9EOy0wCEz4DgesmKzB34Ciyh4DgwX6gcYwdxd9EWU49-kR-s5ZGs1TBxQYkaxZZS1v_Sw4" width="636" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 13.5pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 36.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 2; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">V – Rage Against the
Dying of the Light<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The implicit suppositions of language
bely our particular unspoken arrogances. You go down from a city: you abandon
the rarefied air, descend from the enlightened mount unto the hinterlands and
savagery. You go back up to the city: you leave behind provinciality and
backwardness and assume yourself again the <i>axis mundi</i>, the centre
of the world around which the chaos must revolve. As you leave Johor and begin
the long drive north, you consider what you have learned. In truth, they are
not particularly insightful lessons: people think differently to you, people
have different priorities and goals to you, people have a different conception
of what they want this nation to be than you. You speed back towards
civilisation, casting off chaos and returning unto order at a hundred-and-fifty
kilometres an hour. Cities exist as order amidst chaos: defiant and proud, from
the heavens they blaze at night with brilliant light amidst a sea of shadow.
They are perpetually and eternally in co-dependent conflict with the rural
countryside: they are the opportunity over the hill and the collapse of hearth
and home, benevolent patriarch and dictatorial fist, saviour and savage all at
once; as you are – as all are. They are screams of indignant refusal to go
gentle into that good night, of the unconquerable human desire to defy entropy
and decay. So long as two stones stand stacked, laid in place by human hands,
nature will have no final victory. We were here. We thrived. We are here. We
will go on.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">This conflict, primal and ancient, is a
tale as old as story itself. Only the wild man Enkidu could spur the God-King
Gilgamesh to embark on his epic journey. But when the pair of friends – nature
and mankind as comrades-in-arms – slay the Bull of Heaven and defeat the
monster Humbaba; the cost of their victory is the death of Enkidu. Though the
two fought at first; order and chaos in cosmic, metaphysical conflict; their
triumph is only won with the fall of the noble savage. Are we become Gilgamesh,
glorious and conquering but forever besotted by the loss of our truest
companion – he who was our opposite and equal? Will we only mourn Enkidu when
he is gone?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The concrete jungle reappears in view.
You feel urban coldness and dispassion, temporarily buried and subsumed beyond
the city, re-emerge in the corners of your mind. You chuckle to yourself:
despite pseudo-spiritual revelation, the concrete monkey ever lurks. Back in
its natural habitat, it reasserts itself with the pheromone-dominance of the
primate. Pink slate roofs melt into tall concrete slabs, which in turn fade
into the mirror-facades of the skyscrapers, reflecting the city endlessly back
onto its inhabitants. The centre of the world can only gaze at itself. In the
distance, you see a hundred-and-eighteen floors of plate glass and steel rise
like a monolith from the horizon. It is jarring and comforting all at once.
Your metropolitan arrogance creeps back for a second, smiling slightly at the
almost provincial stature of what they call skyscrapers in Johor. A good
reminder, perhaps, that you have not returned to the city nearly as enlightened
as you would have hoped.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The tower is stark and proud, erupting
from the urban sprawl like Yggdrasil the World-Tree wrought in iron. In the
distance, it does not so much reflect the light as it does absorb it. Focused
on the road as you are, it looms in the periphery; almost featureless and flat
in the background. It is not so much as a structure as a looming void, a great
shape that dominates with harsh, artificial lines in contempt and dissent of
the curving order of nature that it imposes itself upon. In the corner of your
eye, it is almost as if someone has jaggedly sliced out a sliver of the sky; as
if creation itself had been cut by the cosmic craft scissors of an infant god
making a collage from cut-out pieces of old magazines. Amidst the landscapes
you had seen on the drive to and from Johor, it would be an aberration, a
monstrosity beyond countenance; a spear of bleeding chaos planted amidst the
untouched verdant green. But here, in the city? Here it gleams as a great
sentinel, a light-house calling near and far. It crowns the city from which it
emerges, gigantic and incomprehensible and breath-taking all at once. It is a
pillar of brilliant bleached alabaster midnight, a world axis of order throwing
back the darkness, back the chaos, back the wilderness and the rot. It is
neither. It is both.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">You try one last time to play the
childhood game, to erase the monolith from view. Even imagination fails you
here: it is too vast, too real. ‘Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair.’
Will this titan not too crumble, despite – or because – of its immensity? What
is the point of the struggle, if we are bound by nature and time to failure?
The impossibility of a dream does not in and of itself render it unworthy. The
tower was impossible – in many ways it still is. And yet there it stands,
defiant against gravity. It knocks on the door of heaven. The city too, is
impossible. It is an amalgam, a mongrel creature of a thousand thousand dreams
and hopes and tragedies. It cannot contain them all, not in truth, not when the
hope of one will dash a hundred others. But it manages, it struggles on, it
thrives despite itself. It lives and grows and is – to be, what glory it is
simply to be. It is glorious because it is defiant and rebellious, it refutes
the chaos and imbibes it, moulding it into a perverse, transient new order. It
is the impossible dream, the vision of paramount contradiction, it is nature
and time screaming ‘No’ and spitting in the face of it all and simply
continuing to be.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">That succumbing to the chaos is easy,
that the low road beckons, that the goal is impossible: these do not tarnish
the dream. When sins have been cleansed in the purest water, when a thing is
worthy and noble: the gates of hell cannot prevail against it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24.0pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Back up to the city. To dream once
again, of things impossible.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51878565536560949.post-28559489097553655022022-09-08T15:00:00.040-07:002022-09-20T03:28:17.739-07:00Thoughts concerning the death of HM Queen Elizabeth II<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; text-align: justify;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj3dBxGaruN3P_MLYBRDO-0CZrI6S_Ih_adtskfzhozSeB3atnLHogY57EqzXElzANuMFFek9eP7GWseut7R49Sr1DlQqoY2md7sBtU1uB4I5YAY-UzTJbv0i2Hl7Oi4vtocqmIiktRXP8Bn8g1X82hOskr9-qrBJPeC94AYSscXItr3HTJ6zio2JY" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="46" data-original-width="940" height="16" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj3dBxGaruN3P_MLYBRDO-0CZrI6S_Ih_adtskfzhozSeB3atnLHogY57EqzXElzANuMFFek9eP7GWseut7R49Sr1DlQqoY2md7sBtU1uB4I5YAY-UzTJbv0i2Hl7Oi4vtocqmIiktRXP8Bn8g1X82hOskr9-qrBJPeC94AYSscXItr3HTJ6zio2JY=w491-h16" width="491" /></a></span></div><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;">In an entirely out-of-character move for me, the death of Her Late Majesty has provoked me to put thoughts down in public using social media. As both a monarchist and – as I often like to say – a “card-carrying Conservative”; it was hardly surprising to me that I would find a lot of the reaction to the tragic but ultimately not unforeseen news distasteful, even as I knew the basic lines of disagreement that would likely arise between myself and less anachronistically-minded friends.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;">I realise that a lecture-slash-rant on constitutional monarchy is unlikely to be popular or particularly well-viewed. I also realise that, as I have been told and have myself said a number of times today, I am unlikely to change your mind; or vice versa; if you have already decided in principle that monarchism and the whole royal kitchen sink is a regressive and on-the-whole negative institution. I hope only to give an honest and reasonable account of what I find important and effective about monarchy, as well as on to give my personal thoughts regarding some of the other reasons that have been ostensibly behind reactions to Her Majesty’s death.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;">I would of course be interested and happy to defend my points or debate them further in private with anyone interested – though perhaps an argument might wait for after the mourning period.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;">A caveat of course would be that one hopes that it can be taken as a foregone conclusion that Elizabeth II was beyond personal reproach – having spent 70 years of her life in singular service to the Crown, never once stepping outside the bounds of her constitutional office, and being on the whole unmarred by the scandals and gross misjudgements that have in the past have haunted (and to this day continue to haunt) other members of the House of Windsor; one can understand viewing Her Majesty as a symbol of institutions that might be found objectionable, but it is difficult to understand finding her personally repugnant.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;">If your intent is set on disparaging the memory of a 96-year-old woman who volunteered to serve in the Second World War, and who up until three days before her death continued doing a job she never wanted to have; then I think it unlikely that our conversations are to end constructively.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;">With that being said, I think it wise to divide my thoughts into three sections, for brevity and to ensure I am at least abstractly clear on exactly what it is to which I am responding. These are:</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;">1. Constitutional Monarchy</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;">2. Historical Legacy of Empire</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;">3. Mourning in Malaysia</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background-color: black;">_</span>. </span><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background-color: black;">_</span>. <span style="background-color: black;">_______</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: times;">9th September, 2022</span></div><p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: times;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: times;"><o:p> <span></span></o:p></span></i></p><a name='more'></a><i><span style="font-family: times;"></span></i><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></i></div><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span><h2 style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;">1. Constitutional Monarchy </span></h2><span style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It should of course be no surprise why the immediate impulse of a liberal, metropolitan, globalised individual might be to recoil at the idea of hereditary monarchy. The implicit underpinnings of such a system – aristocratic heredity, inequality of opportunity, deference to hierarchy – are in many ways fundamentally incompatible with the egalitarian individualism that defines mainstream sociopolitical thinking.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">By this rubric, the mere existence of inequalities is <i>prima facie</i> and fundamentally unjust; much less the implication that there is a moral obligation to defer to anything other than our individual wills. In search of equity, all hierarchy – religious, social, political – has been resigned to the fires of history; no doubt in many instances for the common good.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">And yet when I consider that we may have, as Nietzsche put it, killed God; I wonder if in doing so we have not done more harm to ourselves than we could have ever had hoped to inflict upon Him.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We have turned our worship from Heaven to our mirrors and front-facing cameras; and sacrificed much to the Golden Calf of our individual self-aggrandising egotisms. We have through aberrative algorithmic apparatus built entire unique universes for ourselves where we sit, master of all we survey; not only ignorant of, but actively hostile to, anything which might intrude upon our Xanadus of self-image or identity. We have constructed for ourselves a civilisation built upon the Cult of the Self, where even the notion of our own un-centrality is a blasphemy beyond reckoning.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Has this truly been to our benefit?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Have you, embodying Narcissus and gazing endlessly at your own reflection; become a happier, better person? Are you now more at ease with yourself, is the lake of your spirit enriched?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We destroyed deference and reverence, only to find the blind soul of Man crying out to worship, and in the darkness finding only himself.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Walter Bagehot in <i>The English Constitution</i> wrote about the two co-operating parts of any effective Constitution: the Dignified and the Efficient. In a constitutional monarchy, the monarch represents the dignified part of the constitution as a symbol and figurehead of authority, nationhood, and the underlying political system – in Bagehot’s words, in the Crown exists the duty to “excite and preserve the reverence of the population”. The unassuming word “symbol” does a great deal of rhetorical lifting in such a description – for what are symbols? They are universal and unifying – a red traffic light is hardly a useful symbol if it does not communicate STOP to every person that encounters it. They are meaningful and necessary – we do not have letters for sounds we do not make.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Monarchy serves in the singular and unenviable role of being the focal point of a nation, not only in its present form but also embodying the continuity and history of a thousand ancestral generations long past. In continuing to exist, it serves its essential purpose – as an axis around which a realm rotates, an anchor to which a people tie themselves amidst the transient fury of the storm. As a symbol, monarchy must be as a great, Albion oak; sinking itself deep into the soil of a nation so as to permeate, embody, and encompass.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">One humbly hopes to expand upon Bagehot’s ideas and propose that the dignified part of the constitution too has in itself a dignified and efficient element. The first part of the efficient and practical element is the simple question of stability: barring the stain of a brief 17th-century Cromwellian flirtation with republicanism; His Majesty King Charles III can trace an unbroken line to William the Conqueror and the Norman Conquest of 1066. By comparison, the French have had no fewer than five separate Republics since the unfortunate day they executed Louis XVI in 1793, not to mention an imperial Napoleonic monarchy and a restoration of the Bourbons as intermissions between these Republics.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This historic continuity is not a uniquely European or Western phenomenon – the Imperial House of Japan traditionally traces itself to the mythical Emperor Jimmu from 660 BC, and can reliably trace verifiable Emperors back to the 500s AD with Emperor Kinmei. The Royal Houses of Perak, Pahang, and Johor all trace their descent from the House of Malacca; which in turn traces its descent from the Imperial dignity of Srivijaya. Monarchy serves as the links in a chain stretching back into the past; reminding us that former glories are not so far away as they might seem, and that present troubles are as fleeting as all the rest of time.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Beyond this stabilising role, the power symbolism has on the efficient part of the constitution cannot be understated. Monarchy serves as a constitutional agent over and above elected governments – never infringing upon their authority or ability to enact change, but a constant reminder that the government of a nation does not begin and end within a politburo or with the apparatchiks – elected or otherwise.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">15 separate Prime Ministers met Her Majesty during the course of Her reign, and 15 Prime Ministers were asked to form Governments in Her name. They were <i>asked</i> – they did not demand, did not claim the right to govern as a spoil of victory – they were asked by the unipolar embodiment of the citizens they were to serve to form a Government. A pleasant fiction, perhaps, but a fiction so endowed with majesty and mystery so as to impose the altogether-too-real seriousness of the task that is given to the leaders of a nation; a reminder that they are ultimately servants of a cause and calling much greater than themselves. Every week, the First Minister of Her Majesty’s Government reported on the goings-on of that Government to Her Majesty – a pseudo-confessional, perhaps, shaming ministers into honesty by demanding either transparency or treasonous deceit at every meeting.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">As for the dignified aspect of dignity: because of the expectation and function of constancy, a nation is enabled to place its hopes and fears, dreams and sorrows in the person of the Crown. We rejoice in their celebrations, and mourn at their losses. Even ardent republicans will indulge in gossip and scandal when it escapes the Palace, because there is an instinctive knowing that the public and private lives of these privileged individuals is the truest litmus test for the spirit of the times.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">For better or worse, they embody – must embody – the zeitgeist of the nation; a fickle demand indeed, which finds that members of constitutional monarchical institutions are punished severely when they step out of tune to the essential feelings of their subjects. Indeed, it is because of this dignified symbolism that nationalism <i>in extremis</i> could never truly become a large-scale political threat in a mature constitutional monarchy – there can never be a populist politician that embodies the nation more than the crowned head whose entire constitutional role it is to be that embodiment. That is the reason, one must suppose, for the endless hand-shaking and ribbon-cutting – to be everywhere, in the flesh, permeating all at once; to brush against omnipresence.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>[A disclaimer in support of secularism: understanding that religious arguments are effectively meaningless to persons that might not have the same beliefs as I; I hope the interested reader nevertheless gives the ideas due consideration. Please, however, feel free to skip to '2. Historical Legacy of Empire' otherwise.]</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Indeed, whilst much of the sacrosanct authority and spirituality that defines the British monarchy in particular is oft-unseen in daily life; at the apex of majesty and in the most sacred of dignities lies the necessary truth that the Crown is sanctified by God Himself. The Coronation remains a religious ceremony, in which the Sovereign is bound by holy oath to defend Their subjects and their rights, and to maintain the laws of God. The Sovereign is not invested with civic chains as a Mayor is – they are, to paraphrase the words of His Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury – “anointed with holy oil, as Kings, Priests, and Prophets were anointed; and as Solomon was anointed King by Zadok the Priest and Nathan the Prophet.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">In this, even the highest of mortals is called upon to consider the magnitude of Their duty, and is forced to reckon with the severity of Their task before Almighty God. It is thus unsurprising that we expect the Sovereign to embody the traits of the Divine – to be everywhere, know everything, feel every feeling, touch every heart. It is why justice and mercy are meted out in the name of the Sovereign. Through the system of monarchy, we strive and struggle to ordain the rude and profane reality of our world in pale and aspirational imitation of the City of the Living God, the heavenly Jerusalem.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">In Hell there is Democracy, in Heaven there is a Kingdom.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><h2 style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;">2. Historical Legacy of Empire </span></h2><span style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Perhaps the most personally upsetting reactions to the death of the Queen were expressions of celebration at the event, or of using the death to recount colonial and historical atrocities (and, perhaps, implicitly laying some of the blame for those atrocities on the Crown). It would be intellectually inconsistent of me to suggest at this point, after having spilt a not-insignificant amount of ink on the matter, that the Sovereign’s role as a symbol ends at the gates of historical crimes committed in Their name.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Though certainly it is factually difficult to hold any Sovereign truly personally responsible for any action whatsoever taken by their governments (it might interest the reader to learn that the last British monarch who refused Royal Assent to an Act of Parliament was Queen Anne in 1708 – who did so only on the advice of her ministers); their role as a unifying symbol of State, and therefore historically also of Empire, means that it is entirely understandable that some of the emotional weight of those historical atrocities be foisted upon them.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It would be ignorant and insensitive to in any way make light of the tragic and horrendous violence inflicted by agents of the British Empire on its supposed subjects throughout history. Suffering abounded throughout the Empire from the Boer concentration camps to the Mau Mau uprising; across the subcontinent in Amritsar, through famine, and during the Partition. Yet, equally intellectually dishonest would be to posit that any of these or other actions of the Empire were in any way uniquely malicious or evil.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Contemporary Imperial powers, European and otherwise, engaged in similar mass acts of state-sanctioned violence; and large-scale polities throughout history have rarely shied away from the application of force for geopolitical goals. In 88 BC, King Mithridates murdered over 80,000 Italics across Asia Minor during the Asiatic Vespers. To suggest that Europe was uniquely bloodthirsty or violent during the Age of Colonialism appears in a twisted way to underestimate the mental capacities of non-Europeans throughout history.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">A lust for conquest and subjugation did not suddenly appear in Europe as a result of the Enlightenment or Industrialisation – these desires sit deep within the soul of our species, impossible to excise. Rarely has imagination been a limiting factor on the expression of human depravity.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The scale of violence employable by any polity has always been a function of the technological advancement available to that polity – genocide and massacre came as freely from the barrels of Lee-Enfield bolt-action rifles as they did from the recurve bows of hordes of Mongol warriors astride war stallions. The unequal pendulum of history swung in Europe’s favour during that critical time, but we should not delude ourselves into thinking ourselves or our ancestors saints – had the roles been reversed, had steam engines poured first out of China as opposed to Britain, history might well have looked surpassingly different.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">In an ideal world, one would of course wish that no horrors of any scale had ever been inflicted by man upon man, at any time in history. I wish fervently that the Bengal Famines had never happened as earnestly as I wish that the Bolsheviks had not shot the Tsar and his children, that Chairman Mao had not starved 45 million Chinese in the Great Leap Forward, and that Rome had not burned and salted Carthage.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">If we are to look for a reason for why these atrocities occur, it must be simply that man is, in essence, fundamentally atrocious.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">So are we destined to be forever bitter, the runners-up of history? Might we find nothing amidst the rapid advancement of our one-time conquerors to cherish as our unwilling inheritance? Perhaps we might consider, in no particular order: constitutional monarchy, parliamentary democracy, and an independent & secular judiciary.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Kemal Atatürk once said: “There may be a great many countries in the world, but there is only one Civilisation, and if a nation is to achieve progress, she must be a part of this Civilisation”. He recognised that the Civilisation that Turkey wished to join – the Civilisation of rules-based order, of private property, of individual rights and liberties – was not a uniquely Western construct. The West had been fortunate enough to be the first to discover this blessed order, but it did not belong to them any more than language, or mathematics, or music.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">And yet, if the Sovereign must be a symbol of the horrendous-but-not-unique evils done in Their names; then surely They must also be a beacon of any praiseworthy legacies. But recognition of such legacies would implicitly suggest moral greyness, and destroy any claims antagonistic parties might have to absolute purity of righteousness.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This ideological zealotry, as with many other things, can only be seen as another unfortunate outcome of the worship of the self.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It comes then as no surprise that the death of Her Majesty would be and has been callously celebrated by persons who have made it their philosophical purpose to denigrate a Civilisation which they self-limitingly misidentify as Western, and therefore censured beyond consideration.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">To the once-colonised peoples of the world, I ask: are we forever to be victims of the oppression of our forefathers? Are we nothing more than the consequentialist results of fate, outcroppings of the actions of old, dead white men? And if today we find ourselves amidst corruption and prejudice and misrule, can we be truly honest in saying that this is all the legacy of our imperial oppression; or must we at a certain point own our histories, actions, and destinies?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">There must be a point at which we throw off the historical, arrogant presumptions of our own cultural infantilism that were used by the worst aspects of Empire to subjugate our peoples. But instead, in almost lockstep uniformity across the post-colonial world; the imperfections of the legacies with which we were left became not projects for reconciliation and reform, but instead leveraged and utilised to further oppress and divide – this time instead with a familiar, resentful, native politicisation.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Whilst no doubt true that history did not deal us the grandest of hands; we have had every opportunity since to change the rules by which the game is played. Instead, we languish in post-colonial resentment, jealously guarding the creaking remains of the systems we were left with that still work; and even more jealously guarding the fundamentally flawed aspects of those systems which, whilst doubtless were ill-thought and misguided in the 1930s, are certainly beyond comprehension and reason in the 2020s.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Indeed it remains to me to be seen whether, in Malaysia in particular, the post-colonial political settlement has to any extent been more effective at protecting the rights of ethnic minorities in the country. It is a matter of historical fact that the extension of Malayan citizenship to non-Malays under the Malayan Union was the subject of a significant amount of controversy and political agitation pre-Merdeka. This political whetstone has hung heavy around the necks of four generations of post-Merdeka Malaysians; and even today there continue insinuations that the citizenship which is ours by right of birth is somehow a privilege for which we must be eternally and generationally grateful, and accordingly humbly accept a subsidiary place in what might be uncharitably described as a neo-apartheid regime.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It is of course darkly amusing to recount that, despite protestations from both the Tunku and Their Highnesses the Malay Rulers to ensure that all citizens of a new Federation would receive equal rights and treatment irrespective of ethnic backgrounds; the drafters of the Reid Commission, doubtless politically sensitive to the sentiments post-collapse of the Malayan Union, included affirmative action policies in drafting the Malayan Constitution spurred on by pressure from proto-<i>ketuanan</i> nationalist groups. What might have been a bumbling, well-intentioned, poorly-executed mistake by an underinformed colonial authority has since been co-opted as the de facto political superweapon in Malaysian politics, deployed and brandished with zeal as a justification for civil oppression.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><h2 style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;">3. Mourning in Malaysia </span></h2><span style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">In this last section, which should be significantly shorter and more personal than the preceding two; I should seek to address the question that is doubtless present to some degree or another: I am not a British subject, and so why did I bear affection for Her Majesty; and more importantly for the system that she represented? I return, as I suppose all persons who wish to pull meaning from the word-filled haze of the mind must do, to the universality of symbols.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">If, as I have tried to argue, Her Majesty was – and the Crown is – a symbol of dignified, self-effacing, Godfearing service; of obsequiousness and probity; of the majesty and history and continuity and triumph of all the values of universal Civilisation; then I do not see under what circumstance we might imagine that these qualities are admirable only to the British. If She represented all these things, which I thoroughly and earnestly believe She did, then I think it a great loss to us all that that simple, single soul has had its light winked out on this Earth.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The three years I spent in London, and my subsequent visits back, have proved to be a source of unending joyful memories for reasons beyond recounting. But, perhaps to tempt the limits of lexicography, I would recount that one of those reasons was that at no point during my time in England have I ever felt that my speech warranted censoring, or that my thoughts were proscribed – freedoms that the Crown enshrined and embodied, and freedoms which I hope will be enjoyed by those of my readers who possess them with much great and especial knowledge of their rarity and sanctity. Indeed, it was that same freedom, so jealously preserved, that enabled my dear revolutionary friends at university to protest against the Crown that was guardian of their rights.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">So we mourn Elizabeth Alexandra Mary Windsor, who as a paschal lamb was sacrificed at the altar of the Crown for all Her subjects that she might serve a role she never wanted; and we mourn Her Majesty the Queen as we might mourn the loss of the sky or the sun – a steadfast constant that, in all our grasping mortal arrogance, we never conceived of having to live without.</div><br />
</span><!--more--><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;">And
thus it hath pleased <span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Almighty</span> <span style="font-variant: small-caps;">God </span>to take out of this transitory life
and into His Divine Mercy the Most High, Most Mighty, and Most Excellent Monarch;
our Sovereign Lady <span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Queen Elizabeth the
Second</span> of blessed memory.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh1c7JZTAgamZk6EbGzER5iZMMPMWug2_Sio8Y81DIpsTm8QKUUeXfc14txsgIZZkW4x-Uhfdeq9Q5424uWrr2StLN54NX93HL7OShVgdXR7tbA0kBmDQEVH2w2k2VZ4oH7i3RcS4bRFSb-f00gFiD-9fERsqKoWneXAHZJkC9FCPopmqKs5zWSpkI" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times;"><img alt="" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="611" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh1c7JZTAgamZk6EbGzER5iZMMPMWug2_Sio8Y81DIpsTm8QKUUeXfc14txsgIZZkW4x-Uhfdeq9Q5424uWrr2StLN54NX93HL7OShVgdXR7tbA0kBmDQEVH2w2k2VZ4oH7i3RcS4bRFSb-f00gFiD-9fERsqKoWneXAHZJkC9FCPopmqKs5zWSpkI=w408-h640" width="408" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;">…<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 40.2pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 40.2pt 10pt 36pt; tab-stops: 404.0pt 439.45pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;">Behold! I shew you a mystery; We
shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed. In a moment, in the twinkling
of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall
be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 40.2pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 40.2pt 10pt 36pt; tab-stops: 404.0pt 439.45pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;">For this corruptible must put on
incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. So when this corruptible
shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality,
then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, ‘Death is swallowed
up in victory’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 40.2pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 40.2pt 10pt 36pt; tab-stops: 404.0pt 439.45pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;">Where, O death, is thy sting?
Where, O grave, is thy victory?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-left: 72pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: times;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">-<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><i><span>1
Corinthians 15:51-55<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><o:p><br /></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="text-align: center;">…</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 16pt; font-variant: small-caps; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: times;">God Save the King</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51878565536560949.post-64532817355669189022022-02-10T10:52:00.008-08:002022-02-14T01:03:09.840-08:00My brother bought that Doublethink<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">It is an overplayed cliché to
compare governmental overreach and abuse to George Orwell’s seminal <i>Nineteen
Eighty-Four</i>. Indeed, when the serious political point one is trying to make
has its own <a href="https://knowyourmeme.com/memes/subcultures/nineteen-eighty-four-1984">Know
Your Meme subdirectory</a>, it might be arrogantly ignoring fate to bull-headedly
press on. It should come to no surprise to the regular reader that with the <a href="https://www.freemalaysiatoday.com/category/nation/2022/02/10/police-report-lodged-against-activist-lalitha-for-lying-to-the-court/">piling
on of yet more police scrutiny</a> onto the whistleblower of MACC Chief
Commissioner YBhg. Tan Sri Dato’ Sri Haji Azam bin Baki’s apparent
shareholdings; we have prepared some thoughts regarding how Orwellian the
Malaysian state apparatus has been in its handling of the entire ‘Azamgate’ fracas.
<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiQ20F3IfIWp0gq2W90ezx9oniPbk5EBiYSJYUSEha6F_WtNhXhUYVgnXzyOLd3k074R2R_OQLf0y_Abswe0MaCYugQ5RitUrTIR9T3zWfTK2mG9UJsvrj9lrSfR1RTeecANyimKEFwkH8PnVISLfF9B05cfs8sdz8siCq9cEqtnyIMSQm41HLpj0U" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="187" data-original-width="940" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiQ20F3IfIWp0gq2W90ezx9oniPbk5EBiYSJYUSEha6F_WtNhXhUYVgnXzyOLd3k074R2R_OQLf0y_Abswe0MaCYugQ5RitUrTIR9T3zWfTK2mG9UJsvrj9lrSfR1RTeecANyimKEFwkH8PnVISLfF9B05cfs8sdz8siCq9cEqtnyIMSQm41HLpj0U=w640-h128" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br />
<h2 style="text-align: justify;"><b>The Force of Law & Thoughtcrime</b></h2><div><b><br /></b></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Explicitly without implying
fault, criticism, or forejudgement; Azam’s <a href="https://www.malaysianow.com/news/2022/01/12/azam-files-rm10-million-defamation-suit-against-accuser/">MYR
10 Million defamation suit</a> against the whistleblower could be argued to bear
many of the hallmarks of a Strategic Lawsuit Against Public Participation (<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Strategic_lawsuit_against_public_participation">SLAPP
suit</a>). SLAPP suits are typically employed as a legal tactic, and claimants
in many cases do not have an earnest interest in winning the suit or the
damages specified; instead seeking to utilise the burden of legal proceedings
and/or a large claims quantum to forestall any further action or criticism by
the defendant. Interested readers might follow-up with <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UN8bJb8biZU">John Oliver’s video on the
phenomenon</a>. It may be relevant to note that the claim pursued by Azam
against the whistleblower is one of <a href="https://www.mondaq.com/libel-defamation/966524/the-basics-of-defamation-law-in-malaysia-">defamation</a>,
a tort governed in statute by the <a href="http://www.commonlii.org/my/legis/consol_act/da19571983174/">Defamation
Act 1957</a>; which is reverse onus in that defendants are expected to <i>a
priori</i> prove that an allegedly defamatory statement is not such. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">The whistleblower is being
further investigated by PDRM under s233 Communications & Multimedia Act
1998 (CMA) and s505 of the Penal Code. Part of that investigation took the form
of an <a href="https://www.freemalaysiatoday.com/category/nation/2022/02/03/cops-grill-whistleblower-lalitha-for-almost-four-hours/">uninterrupted
three-and-a-half hour interview</a> with the police. s233 CMA is not an
unfamiliar act to observers of Malaysian political life – the statute bars use
of telecommunications networks &c. to “annoy, abuse, threaten or harass”
others. At simple construction, the self-evidently wide drafting of the statute
provides for incredibly broad authority for PDRM and other state organs to
utilise this statute as a general deterrent against opinion of any shade – annoyance
is, after all, a remarkably low bar. The author will readily confess now to
being genuinely annoyed at the <a href="https://says.com/my/makan/mcdonald-s-malaysia-temporarily-suspends-large-fries-and-we-are-crying">current
potato shortage at McDonald’s in the country</a>. As a result, s233 can
effectively be used by the state apparatus to silence any digital communication
with which it does not agree or align. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">The lines in Malaysia always blur
at the edges of satire, valid criticism, and hurt feelings: Fahmi Reza was only
today charged with insulting former Minister for Health; and current Minister
for Science, Technology, and Innovation; YB Dato’ Sri Dr. Adham bin Baba with
art created after the latter had announced special quarantine dispensation for
Cabinet Ministers returning from trips abroad. Mr. Fahmi claims trial and was
allowed bail; and the court fixed the 30<sup>th</sup> of March for next mention.
<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi0B3zUhwl0o7rFwLOTcSoHfGfXKBv0ha3hVRr6mwuO1jDTmp1k4eSeMZGYoyRMgsnogoWpOKelOqh4vy6ONbXGI8lZdch1gdyjLmiVQI1Nu4Xe-ha13XcILc0iLG6-biW39PnLucflt3ISs-E2cyl1DpzO8DY5TdcVLecEaJXFlwkcLBtj3I66VaQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="940" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi0B3zUhwl0o7rFwLOTcSoHfGfXKBv0ha3hVRr6mwuO1jDTmp1k4eSeMZGYoyRMgsnogoWpOKelOqh4vy6ONbXGI8lZdch1gdyjLmiVQI1Nu4Xe-ha13XcILc0iLG6-biW39PnLucflt3ISs-E2cyl1DpzO8DY5TdcVLecEaJXFlwkcLBtj3I66VaQ=w640-h400" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">The impulse of the Malaysian
state to control speech exists both at the micro-level as above; but also at
the macro-level as was seen in the efforts by the authorities <a href="https://www.malaymail.com/news/malaysia/2022/01/22/protesters-resort-to-15-minutes-sit-down-mock-arrest-of-azam-baki-after-fai/2036817">to
prevent the #TangkapAzamBaki protests from materialising in force</a>; and with
follow-up actions by PDRM in <a href="https://www.malaysiakini.com/news/608238#friendshare-link-5MRLhowv8-2fca796329dce2cb22d648d4ee7c1d5f-2a8b6402635c14d87c3469209250dbdbi1">questioning
protest organisers</a>. It was pointed out at the time, and bears repeating
now: statements reportedly made in the course of the investigation into the
protest by Brickfields district police chief Amihizam Abdul Shukor;
specifically that public gatherings are not permitted without prior police
permission; do not appear to be correct statements of the law as it currently
stands, per s9(1) Peaceful Assembly Act 2012 which only requires 10 days’
notice be provided to PDRM. Chief Amihizam’s statement appears to be recalling the
Police Act 1967, which has since been repealed by the 2012 Act. While it is
clear that under the 2012 Act, PDRM have a legitimate interest and right to
impose restrictions on peaceful assembly as they might deem reasonably
necessary; it seems equally clear that there is a valid discussion to be had
surrounding whether the complete shutdown and arguably heavy-handed approach to
the protestors was proportionate or reasonable given the circumstances. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">It should not be a great
revelation of any kind to suggest that, in truth, the state apparatus in the
abstract; or indeed individual actors within it such as ministers or civil
servants; does and do not truly have a vested interest in seeing protest,
satirical artwork, or whistleblowing blog posts censored or taken down. Indeed,
it is difficult to imagine persons occupying positions of such structural and
systemic authority to truly take criticism or satirical insults personally.
Privilege and comfort are incredibly soothing to bruised egos. It is ever
essential to recall the basic principles of structures of authority – they exist
before all other stated goals to self-perpetuate, and will act in any way achievable
to fulfil that basic goal. What is truly dangerous about satire and commentary
is the fact that it encourages and rewards critical thinking and original
thought – poisonous obstacles to the anti-intellectualism enforced upon the Malaysian
population through a politicised and castrated educational system. By flexing
the state’s monopoly on permissible and persuasive violence in attempting to
stifle or silence dissent and criticism – and on a more basic level attempting
to control and police the thoughts of its citizens; the Malaysian state
apparatus is almost comically Orwellian.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoQuote"></p><blockquote>“The Thought Police would get him just the same. He had
committed— would still have committed, even if he had never set pen to paper—
the essential crime that contained all others in itself. <b>Thoughtcrime, they
called it</b>”</blockquote><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<h2 style="text-align: justify;"><b>But look over here; or We Have
Always Been At War With Eastasia</b></h2><div><b><br /></b></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">No sooner than the proverbial ink
had dried on the story surrounding Azam that the MACC suddenly began to spring
into action with a vigour that <a href="https://www.freemalaysiatoday.com/category/nation/2022/02/10/what-happened-to-cases-linked-to-defections-guan-eng-asks-macc/">had
seemed absent when investigating alleged inducements provided to MPs and
Assemblymen to shift political parties</a>. In January alone, <a href="https://www.freemalaysiatoday.com/category/nation/2022/02/01/syed-saddiq-refutes-bungalow-claims-welcomes-probe/">bungalows
occupied by YB Syed Saddiq MP were found in want of investigation</a>, and <a href="https://www.thestar.com.my/news/nation/2022/01/31/maszlee-denies-corruption-allegations-welcomes-macc-probe">allegations
of cash gifts and a Toyota Veilfire improperly given to YB Dr. Maszlee Malik MP</a>
also emerged. Perhaps most headline-grabbing of all – the great proverbial political
boogeyman of 1MDB was <a href="https://www.freemalaysiatoday.com/category/nation/2022/01/31/macc-probes-leaked-investigation-paper-into-rm2-6b-donation/">dragged
out from the dark box in which it lives</a> kicking and screaming to provide a
juicy target for the beleaguered anti-corruption body. A cynical author might even
suggest that the rapidity of new revelations of investigations or potential
investigations amounted to sensory and relativistic overload: Dr. Maszlee
indeed remarks upon the fact that the quantum for which he is being
investigated seems remarkably small, and to quote directly: <a href="https://www.freemalaysiatoday.com/category/nation/2022/02/01/maszlee-mocks-lame-allegations/">“lame”</a>.
<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg_fJDMDmI2NaoUIdM1V0DhZX1fiRCqtGQXzuel8QOtGZ5MNpW_CC-lSH24_GGitRwcSz90FJsdFgy1swrR8_y58-mKbCBo_6EyfHw6ESCB-xLHQO5sa_Be9PVxCSjzRnWDSJWPhN-alCiFR1UFCxklBwmBYSUy9OKUO_rm-gRjz_bACHMBzcSdtAU" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="940" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg_fJDMDmI2NaoUIdM1V0DhZX1fiRCqtGQXzuel8QOtGZ5MNpW_CC-lSH24_GGitRwcSz90FJsdFgy1swrR8_y58-mKbCBo_6EyfHw6ESCB-xLHQO5sa_Be9PVxCSjzRnWDSJWPhN-alCiFR1UFCxklBwmBYSUy9OKUO_rm-gRjz_bACHMBzcSdtAU=w640-h400" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br />
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">It is hardly the place of the
author to come to foregone conclusions about potential or ongoing
investigations. Indeed, one has to wonder if all the rooms at Syed Saddiq’s property
are set aside for political offices as shown in <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sBwp0f7Cifk">his video</a>, or if he
reserves a room or two to host <a href="https://www.malaysiakini.com/news/489328">race-baiting hate-speech peddlers
to dinner.</a> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What is clear is that in
a torrent of new allegations against politicians and politician-adjacents every
day, the intricacies of whose brother bought what shares might be lost in the
maelstrom. If there is no truth, if no one is clean and everyone is an enemy
and we must direct our anger at a new target at every day’s fresh Two Minute
Hate, then no one target will ever remain in the spotlight for long. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoQuote"><span style="background: white;"></span></p><blockquote>At just this moment it had
been announced that Oceania was not after all at war with Eurasia. Oceania was
at war with Eastasia. Eurasia was an ally. There was, of course, no admission
that any change had taken place. Merely it became known, with extreme
suddenness and everywhere at once, that Eastasia and not Eurasia was the enemy.</blockquote><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b></p>
<h2 style="text-align: justify;"><b>Doublethink; and Accepting Two
Truths</b></h2><div><b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi3-eyJ7XbqXA4WwAZlr6Xj4fWnOayl9DSP6y7GZnXwRloXgQzoq_diYjLjHQdb9zWOJov6AXQF4Rp3FBVc7t__Jt9YfH8MGclseadUZ09sBUYnnepuJGf0dUKEfm5TrrqKG770olVf6azN1jxVmUcI4cCvYJ-4IrQzK2OANIDo3DLM2FMv1iVSIQE" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="478" data-original-width="940" height="326" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi3-eyJ7XbqXA4WwAZlr6Xj4fWnOayl9DSP6y7GZnXwRloXgQzoq_diYjLjHQdb9zWOJov6AXQF4Rp3FBVc7t__Jt9YfH8MGclseadUZ09sBUYnnepuJGf0dUKEfm5TrrqKG770olVf6azN1jxVmUcI4cCvYJ-4IrQzK2OANIDo3DLM2FMv1iVSIQE=w640-h326" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br />
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">The literary purpose of the Party’s
slogans in <i>Nineteen Eighty-Four</i> is to distil the essential
contradictions of the Party’s messages into mantras repeated unto submission. War
truly <i>is </i>Peace, if it is so omnipresent and essential to the existence
of our day-to-day life that it becomes nothing more than background noise. But,
more importantly, it is essential for the Party to reshape the minds of its
citizens to accept new and contradictory meanings for words. Newspeak is
insidious because it robs people of the ability to express their thoughts with
coherence – by removing concepts like peace, freedom, and wisdom wholesale from
language, it is impossible for the citizens of Oceania to even begin to formulate
a revolt against Big Brother. This begins, at its core, with the acceptance of
two ideas that cannot simultaneously be true. As Orwell wrote:<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoQuote"></p><blockquote>To know and not to know, to be conscious of complete
truthfulness while telling carefully constructed lies, to hold simultaneously
two opinions which cancelled out, knowing them to be contradictory and
believing in both of them, to use logic against logic, to repudiate morality
while laying claim to it, to believe that democracy was impossible and that the
Party was the guardian of democracy, to forget whatever it was necessary to
forget, then to draw it back into memory again at the moment when it was
needed, and then promptly to forget it again: and above all, to apply the same
process to the process itself.</blockquote><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">The Malaysian public was recently
asked to hold two contradictory ideas in their minds at once, and to accept
both as factual and to move on with their lives. Timelines surrounding the
whistleblowing of Azam’s alleged shareholdings are <a href="https://malaysia.news.yahoo.com/azam-baki-share-saga-unfolded-210043403.html">well-recorded</a>
as a matter of public record and <a href="https://www.scmp.com/week-asia/politics/article/3163981/malaysias-azamgate-escalates-securities-commission-contradicts">international
interest</a>. The first unshakeable fact was that there was essentially no
wrongdoing as alleged by the whistleblower on the part of Azam Baki – namely that
he held shares amounting significantly above what he would be entitled by law
to hold – as the purported shares were instead <a href="https://www.thestar.com.my/news/nation/2022/01/05/azam-baki-says-will-take-legal-action-against-those-who-slander">purchased
by his brother</a> using his share trading account. The second undeniable truth
was that the Securities Commission had investigated Azam under the Securities
Industry (Central Depositories) Act 1998; and <a href="https://www.malaymail.com/news/malaysia/2022/01/19/securities-commission-says-azam-baki-was-in-control-of-account-he-said-his/2036185">had
found that Azam was in full control of his account at all times</a>, and so was
not liable for any proxy trading or related offences (as might have been the
case if, say, his brother had been using his account to trade shares).<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhbEEck0Yp1MZsmaTfQJnl8cjyuojV7G798PCdoC50C6QYPaIggCdU2hZPkE8M11qiaEE-HeBMSKwUgib0PxSB9hKw4QoIRF2Wg3HN-7QDZ0xpD4PvRXIEv1cNcg3sxNjBUGVCv0e3dUIbh9iNEFPz1P3Y_c-duZWU3UzONF28WcZ9DZNvOC7fQTdA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="564" data-original-width="940" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhbEEck0Yp1MZsmaTfQJnl8cjyuojV7G798PCdoC50C6QYPaIggCdU2hZPkE8M11qiaEE-HeBMSKwUgib0PxSB9hKw4QoIRF2Wg3HN-7QDZ0xpD4PvRXIEv1cNcg3sxNjBUGVCv0e3dUIbh9iNEFPz1P3Y_c-duZWU3UzONF28WcZ9DZNvOC7fQTdA=w640-h384" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br />
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">The now-legendary “my brother
bought them” explanation was accepted – <a href="https://www.nst.com.my/news/nation/2022/01/762383/acab-chairman-hopes-all-issues-related-macc-chief-resolved-immediately">not
without some degree of criticism</a> - by the Chairman of the Anti-Corruption Advisory
Board YBhg Tan Sri Abu Zahar Ujang, though six members of that same advisory
board <a href="https://www.malaymail.com/news/malaysia/2022/01/08/six-macc-advisory-board-members-say-chairman-went-rogue-by-clearing-azam-ba/2033795">later
made clear their feelings</a> that Abu Zahar spoke only in a personal capacity.
Nevertheless, <a href="https://www.malaysiakini.com/news/606205">official
support continued to pour in</a> – this time from three MACC Deputy
Commissioners. This should, of course, surprise no one – as a pure matter of
realpolitik, and given the institutional and self-supporting nature of the
civil service; all three Deputy Commissioners no doubt desire someday to either
occupy Azam Baki’s position or one of similar standing. It should not be
controversial to point out that snitches, tattletales, and rats rarely get
ahead in any organisation – from the roughest street gang to the most privileged
political circles. No doubt had they found themselves in his shoes, each of
them would expect their own Less-than-Grand Poo-Bahs to do the same. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">As for the Securities Commission’s
investigation, no less an authority but the Prime Minister himself gave his magnanimous
endorsement, <a href="https://www.astroawani.com/berita-malaysia/isu-azam-baki-terima-keputusan-sc-tak-boleh-ikut-kehendak-sendiri-sahaja-ismail-sabri-342475">counselling
his fellow-citizens to accept the decision without delay</a>. Indeed, it might
be surmised from the amount for which Azam is attempting to sue that he truly
considers himself the affronted party filled with righteous indignation in this
entire unfortunate and confusing affair. He sees no reason to resign, and
indeed by his own admission <a href="https://www.malaysianow.com/news/2022/01/12/i-wont-resign-says-macc-chief-azam/">only
a royal rebuke would have that result</a>. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEizBaSPLPHKtvrlHvafwfnRSEd3qqCUOUejyG_zCip4RKpBGqI_uXDtKmYJkIiX3qnzkbIMa7uzPZ7RFDZ4ObueEjzpCIvrU6n4oK0RdwDZbGJnrPY-xbB3ew2_nymykuZNJJ-dwjEv9xVALgYna6f3Z9ccFzFF1ZnL6KnUwtfokVrQmS_yunlazRc" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="626" data-original-width="940" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEizBaSPLPHKtvrlHvafwfnRSEd3qqCUOUejyG_zCip4RKpBGqI_uXDtKmYJkIiX3qnzkbIMa7uzPZ7RFDZ4ObueEjzpCIvrU6n4oK0RdwDZbGJnrPY-xbB3ew2_nymykuZNJJ-dwjEv9xVALgYna6f3Z9ccFzFF1ZnL6KnUwtfokVrQmS_yunlazRc" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br />
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">History, as always, provides us a
colourful anecdote by means of comparison: at Easter of 1193, Richard I ‘the
Lionheart’ of England was accused by Henry VI, Holy Roman Emperor; of illegally
capturing Cyprus and attempting to capture Sicily, insulting the Duke of Austria,
assassinating the Marquis of Montferrat, and of consorting with the hated
Saracen Saladin. In reply, Richard <a href="https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/I_am_born_in_a_rank_which_recognizes_no_superior_but_God">began</a>:<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoQuote"></p><blockquote>I am born in a rank which recognises no superior but God, to
whom alone I am responsible for my actions; but they are so pure and honourable
that I voluntarily and cheerfully render an account of them to the whole world.</blockquote><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Whilst King Richard might have
thought his motives noble enough to be worthy of recording for posterity, it is
still unclear whether Tan Sri Azam Baki feels similarly about any explanations
he might have for the contradictory explanations surrounding the facts raised
by the whistleblower. Until then, one can only suppose that – as with Orwell’s Party
– in Malaysia, Ignorance is Strength. If so, we are a strong nation indeed.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p><br /></o:p></p>
<h2 style="text-align: justify;"><b>Fiat justitia ruat caelum –
Let justice be done, though the heavens fall</b></h2><div><b><br /></b></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">The Lord Hewart in <i>R v Sussex
Justices, ex p McCarthy</i> [1924] 1 KB 256 laid out the now legendary dictum: <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoQuote"></p><blockquote>“It is not merely of some importance but is of fundamental
importance that <b>justice should not only be done</b>, but should manifestly
and undoubtedly <b>be seen to be done</b>”</blockquote><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">And later in that same judgment:<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoQuote"></p><blockquote>“Nothing is to be done which creates even a suspicion that
there has been an improper interference with the course of justice.”</blockquote><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">It seems pertinent to remember,
in closing, that ethical and fair dealing, rule of law, and justice more generally
are – or at least of a right ought to be – public goods; with a specific
emphasis on ‘public’. Justice is an essential part of a civilised society: it
provides a framework for the bedrock social assumptions that underpin our
behaviour towards one another – and towards institutions – in our society. Effective justice at least in part is supported by the principle of there being fair and equitable decision-makers and
arbitrators that have a legitimate interest & overarching right in regulating our conduct towards one another
– but for these arbitrators to have moral legitimacy accepted as valid by the population, they must be above and
beyond even the slightest taint of corruption. As Lord Hewart points out, even
the appearance of impropriety is sufficient to tarnish the reputation of true
justice, which once polluted finds enormous difficulty to regain legitimacy in the
eyes of the public. The moment justice cannot be seen to be impartial – or indeed
the moment it cannot be seen at all, and becomes clandestine and secret - it and
the persons purveying it are inexorably tainted. Hidden, unjust justice serves
no purpose other than to form a veneer of procedural legitimacy for bad actors
seeking to exploit the system.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiX-YApfBGrmL1ZKsGJ7cIQLb0RbddOAqQjyNsysMpxHmlNds13HTvln2-sPvtJOBygGZyUv9As_Wz01orgShXjVw4TEhbAeBP-Gnj4HZcKQmc2ACoUA-zNNi2AyYs7aRESGIslygc-Om6gmzm-OjMBZzuLLZdlEWDsED7X5rZMvTuaZdjD8G2aTBI" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="843" height="380" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiX-YApfBGrmL1ZKsGJ7cIQLb0RbddOAqQjyNsysMpxHmlNds13HTvln2-sPvtJOBygGZyUv9As_Wz01orgShXjVw4TEhbAeBP-Gnj4HZcKQmc2ACoUA-zNNi2AyYs7aRESGIslygc-Om6gmzm-OjMBZzuLLZdlEWDsED7X5rZMvTuaZdjD8G2aTBI" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br />
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">It cannot – or rather should not –
be said with certainty whether or not certain elements of the Malaysian state
apparatus have acted, colluded, or otherwise attempted to stifle discussion,
debate, or criticism surrounding the alleged shareholdings of Azam Baki. It can
be said that the Malaysian state apparatus possesses the power to in a
potentially heavy-handed way impose punitive measures based on perceived
offence (per CMA 1998). It might be said that some actions taken by individuals
relating to the alleged shareholding and incidents surrounding the
whistleblowing have been undertaken with the intent of obscuring or otherwise
confusing the facts and objectivity of truth surrounding the events. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">It is important that interested
readers remember the nature of the contradiction the Malaysian people were
presented with and asked to accept without question.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoQuote"></p><blockquote>If all others accepted the lie which the Party imposed – if all
records told the same tale – then the lie passed into history and became truth.
‘<b>Who controls the past,’ ran the Party slogan, ‘controls the future. Who controls
the present, controls the past.’</b></blockquote><b><o:p></o:p></b><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51878565536560949.post-10347249541752744092022-01-12T11:17:00.009-08:002022-01-12T11:19:58.686-08:00The Other Malay Dilemma<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-no-proof: yes;"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shapetype
id="_x0000_t75" coordsize="21600,21600" o:spt="75" o:preferrelative="t"
path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" filled="f" stroked="f">
<v:stroke joinstyle="miter"/>
<v:formulas>
<v:f eqn="if lineDrawn pixelLineWidth 0"/>
<v:f eqn="sum @0 1 0"/>
<v:f eqn="sum 0 0 @1"/>
<v:f eqn="prod @2 1 2"/>
<v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelWidth"/>
<v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelHeight"/>
<v:f eqn="sum @0 0 1"/>
<v:f eqn="prod @6 1 2"/>
<v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelWidth"/>
<v:f eqn="sum @8 21600 0"/>
<v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelHeight"/>
<v:f eqn="sum @10 21600 0"/>
</v:formulas>
<v:path o:extrusionok="f" gradientshapeok="t" o:connecttype="rect"/>
<o:lock v:ext="edit" aspectratio="t"/>
</v:shapetype><v:shape id="Picture_x0020_4" o:spid="_x0000_i1030" type="#_x0000_t75"
alt="cintai-bahasa-kita - Nadi Mahasiswa Malaysia" style='width:451.5pt;
height:282pt;visibility:visible;mso-wrap-style:square'>
<v:imagedata src="file:///C:/Users/User/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image001.jpg"
o:title="cintai-bahasa-kita - Nadi Mahasiswa Malaysia"/>
</v:shape><![endif]--></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSMlcxL80eaY1U2G2k2dIy7w4DPMKhzQxYuWQPjPDfozjx3VC7xpM8QITNp3fFs-jq0v3td6ctQF-ce7PJ96ogY3-CUmzL9ahsZPgIiW9f0EXE2o8mYpfbSfArLzK_XD-5nrb6Qav_xw/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="940" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSMlcxL80eaY1U2G2k2dIy7w4DPMKhzQxYuWQPjPDfozjx3VC7xpM8QITNp3fFs-jq0v3td6ctQF-ce7PJ96ogY3-CUmzL9ahsZPgIiW9f0EXE2o8mYpfbSfArLzK_XD-5nrb6Qav_xw/w640-h400/image.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">It perhaps amounts to information
that divulges more than is strictly necessary about the personal condition of
the author to disclose that in the early years of one’s primary school
education, Science and Maths were taught in Malay. This was changed within a
year or two of my beginning school proper to English being used as a medium of
instruction, only for that change to be itself partially reversed near the end
of my time at primary school – I remember distinctly that the Science and Maths
UPSR papers for which we sat were bilingual, printing questions in both Malay
and English in what can in retrospect only have been described as
taxpayer-funded indecisiveness. It seemed then, and does now, that the
relationship this country has with its national language has always been a
tense one – a statement which hardly seems an insightful or controversial revelation
to anyone with a cursory understanding of this nation’s political history. Equally
self-evident, however, is the seemingly universally tenterhooked approach contemporary
political actors have taken to this question; or the effort put into making the
question seem a firmly and unanimously settled one. To quote from the DAP
website’s <a href="https://dapmalaysia.org/en/pakatan-harapan-manifesto/">PH
Manifesto</a>, at page 12: <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi-WjyJC7165imX0IC9ssUqigObxf17aCE3RCtgdrpsHASVzecCHwfy7OcywZQCEz6YzRW4aCWWPNN7COlYrNkO2swW65xwzLdz5YgyJ0HPdO5vFT_IO8qYmCpG70a7hO8sCF0frzOjw/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="231" data-original-width="763" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi-WjyJC7165imX0IC9ssUqigObxf17aCE3RCtgdrpsHASVzecCHwfy7OcywZQCEz6YzRW4aCWWPNN7COlYrNkO2swW65xwzLdz5YgyJ0HPdO5vFT_IO8qYmCpG70a7hO8sCF0frzOjw/w640-h194/image.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br />
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">The unforgiving fact about the
use of language – any language – is that very act of choosing words consciously
or unconsciously belies biases and unspoken assumptions far more telling than
the immediate meaning of the text. That Malay requires “uplift(ing)” in “status
and usage” cannot help but imply that presently the Malay language is oft perceived
as generally lower status and under-utilisation. That Malay requires championing
to become a “language of knowledge and a regional lingua franca” suggests it is
failing to be either today. That “mother tongue languages” require defending
necessarily requires some party to be attacking them, and that “English proficiency”
needs improvement shows how successive generations of politicised education has
squandered the legacy institutional advantage we possessed in kind with other
Commonwealth states – in stark contrast to our Singaporean neighbours. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">These concerns – criticisms? faults?
– are not solely the rhetorical purview of the liberal opposition. Conventional,
status quo <i>Ketuanan </i>politicians including the current Prime Minister
have raised concerns about the <a href="https://www.freemalaysiatoday.com/category/nation/2021/11/29/pm-reprimands-glcs-private-sector-for-prioritising-english-over-bm/">lack
of adoption of the Malay Language</a> in the same breath as they <a href="https://www.theedgemarkets.com/article/bahasa-melayu-still-relevant-worlds-10th-most-popular-language-says-pm-ismail-sabri">celebrate
its apparent widespread use and popularity</a>. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is difficult to deny that conversation and controversy
surrounding the use of the Malay language within Malaysia extends far beyond
the confines of effective communication – it is an unsurprisingly heavily-politicised
football, brandished unconstitutionally as a loyalty test by <a href="https://www.malaymail.com/news/malaysia/2021/11/17/a-loyal-malaysian-must-speak-malay-says-pas-deputy-minister-who-bullied-rep/2021530">some
elements of the political class</a>. It seems pertinent and appropriate, then,
to re-visit the seemingly settled question of what should be our National
and/or Official language(s); and whether the Malay language is the choice for either
or both of these languages that will contribute most beneficially towards the
construction of a post-racial, post-religious, multi-ethnic Malaysian polity. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">It is often the most difficult
task of all to imagine the myriad ways in which malicious but intellectually
uncurious people may misunderstand one’s work. For the avoidance of doubt – and
perhaps too in an attempt at providing unambiguous evidence for pre-emptive
legal exculpation – the author is explicitly <u>not</u> making any or indeed
all of the following arguments:<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->That non-English languages in general, or Malay
in particular, cannot be used as a language of serious science, industry,
government, or culture. This is self-evident in China, Japan, Korea, and in most
of the EU (though it should be noted that for both demographic and practical
reasons, English will likely <a href="https://www.forbes.com/sites/davekeating/2020/02/06/despite-brexit-english-remains-the-eus-most-spoken-language-by-far/?sh=7b52e20b412f">remain
the EU’s primary working language</a>). We make no claim that any arbitrary
language can be objectively better or worse at communicating ideas of any kind –
though the interested reader might benefit from <a href="http://dtc-wsuv.org/wp/dtc375-fall16/files/2016/08/swchand.pdf">investigating
around</a> the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Linguistic_relativity">Sapir-Whorf
hypothesis</a>.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->That Malay should not be the – in absolute terms
– national language of the Federation, and/or an (but specifically not using
the definite <u>the</u>) official language of the Federation. Indeed, the
constitutional position of the Malay language as defined generally by Article
152 of the Constitution seems in no urgent need of amendment – though statutory
amendment to the National Language Acts 1963/67 should certainly be considered.
It is unmistakeable that so much of the history, culture, important documents, and
ceremony of the state of Malaysia has been, is, and should continue to be
conducted in Malay. It is essential to also realise that this does not mean
that official business cannot – or should not – be conducted in languages other
than Malay, as <a href="https://www.theedgemarkets.com/article/sarawak-can-use-english-or-bahasa-malaysia-official-language-says-wan-junaidi">they
already are in the Borneo states</a>.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->That Malay should be made in any way less prominent
in the curriculum of government schools; though it is relevant to point out
that whilst the working aged population of Malaysia today possesses a
relatively strong command of the English language – which has been a key enabler
in the approachability of this country for foreign investment – this fluency is
not guaranteed by fresh entrants to the labour market. Quoting the <a href="https://www.padu.edu.my/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/Chapter_4.pdf">Ministry
of Education’s Blueprint 2013-2025</a>:<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: 72pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;"><i>Only 28% of students achieve at least a Credit
benchmarked to Cambridge 1119 in English language SPM. While performance in
English language also varies by ethnicity, all three major ethnic groups fall
significantly short of the 70% proficiency target. Only 23% Bumiputera, 42%
Chinese, and 35% of Indian students achieve at least a Credit benchmarked to
Cambridge 1119.<o:p></o:p></i></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: 72pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;"><i><br /></i></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-dhAferrTBWQbjxNvkVg7aysLQ5UGaXyHCZ2HgwGjYJEoAZCEn8GGshapgYjGM9-eevCPfn7nWj4F1znMwVMdmXAw5T-1xTtTZmtRuCZJ0HSdVY-RG1MOQ7RHq7_UoQ_8pcwIZ_JcVg/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="645" data-original-width="940" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-dhAferrTBWQbjxNvkVg7aysLQ5UGaXyHCZ2HgwGjYJEoAZCEn8GGshapgYjGM9-eevCPfn7nWj4F1znMwVMdmXAw5T-1xTtTZmtRuCZJ0HSdVY-RG1MOQ7RHq7_UoQ_8pcwIZ_JcVg/w640-h440/image.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br />
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->That individual citizens who elect to live their
lives in such a way that they are monolingual Malay speakers do not have the
absolute, constitutionally-protected right to do so, or that they should be in
any way deprived, limited, or restricted from accessing any government service,
recourse, or agency as a result of their choice to communicate solely in the
Malay language. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->That the state does not have an interest in
promoting the Malay language for its cultural, historical, and literary
heritage; or that people who speak Malay as a native language should not take
pride in the <a href="https://www.britannica.com/topic/Sejarah-Melayu">culture
and heritage</a> that language brings with it. It is a relevant segue at this
point to point out that the <a href="https://www.advocate.com/arts-entertainment/entertainment-news/2010/03/22/malaysia-gay-film-characters-ok-if-they-go-straight">overzealousness
of the censors</a> does the language no favours. Control of art produced in the
only country where Malay-language art is likely to be produced in any great
quantity necessarily restricts the quality and artistic authenticity of that
art. Ideas that are constricted before birth are rarely widely spread – there is
a reason embarrassingly fawning white <span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">people fumble to learn Korean or Japanese, not
Mandarin (with the possible famous exception of comrade </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS Gothic";"><a href="https://www.nbcnews.com/news/world/actor-john-cena-apologizes-after-taiwan-comment-n1268526#:~:text=More%20From%20NBC-,Actor%20John%20Cena%20apologizes%20to%20Chinese%20audience%20after%20calling%20Taiwan,respect%20China%20and%20Chinese%20people.&text=American%20actor%20and%20wrestling%20star,by%20calling%20Taiwan%20a%20country."><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "MS Gothic"; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">忠西拿</span></a>). The media – and there certainly is a lot of it –
created by the much larger and economically more powerful China does not pierce
the cultural consciousness outside the Sinosphere in the ubiquitous way its
East Asian rivals do.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS Gothic";"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">At the risk of pivoting on
technicalities, it is important to discuss the distinction between National and
Official Languages. A National Language certainly represents something far more
emotional and cultural than any form of pronouncement of governmental operation
– to return to linguistic fundamentals, a National Language must represent and
embody the Nation. As laid out above, we take no issue with Malay being the
National Language – though it is certainly important to register some concern
with the methods and motivations behind the implementation of such policy since
Merdeka. The Malay language reflects the character and spirit of the Nation,
especially of what Bageshot would have described as the dignified part of our
Constitution – the language of ceremony and grandeur and regalia. But if the
Malay language is to ever be earnestly adopted as a badge of identity amongst
Malaysians irrespective of ethnicity, it has to be erased of the stain of politicisation
by <i>Ketuanan</i> nationalists. It should hardly have to be said, but it should
be and is unacceptable in a civilised society to, as an elected official, dodge
a perfectly valid question by a member of the media and simultaneously <a href="https://www.malaymail.com/news/malaysia/2021/11/15/pas-leaders-harass-reporter-after-asked-about-gaming-ban-mocking-her-husban/2020947">brazenly
insult them</a> whilst <a href="https://www.malaymail.com/news/malaysia/2021/11/17/a-loyal-malaysian-must-speak-malay-says-pas-deputy-minister-who-bullied-rep/2021530">insinuating
<i>pendatang</i>ism</a> or a lack of patriotism from that reporter because of
the language she chose to ask that question in. It is admittedly potentially overly-egregious
scrutiny to read this much meaning into a cheap political tactic no doubt
intended to one degree or another to solidify grassroots support – though it is
relevant to reflect on the fact that that basic admission belies the underlying
divisive cultural poison that <i>Ketuanan</i> nationalism’s co-opting of the Malay
language as a political cause; and the resultant subtle, pussyfooting,
half-hearted pushback by Malaysia’s broadly liberal opposition; has created. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjatQKB3IBEv-gYhL5M6wa3kbI7Ajri0Q8JXEqifaU3B47M47WCgPbsmA0C2qDfYvp98BnlB0chitGeJdNZKAnvh5b_3-Z7MC7O-yjtK2n6KCAQK4azPj9w3OpYIwqExk4emH7GCH7Z8w/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="417" data-original-width="431" height="387" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjatQKB3IBEv-gYhL5M6wa3kbI7Ajri0Q8JXEqifaU3B47M47WCgPbsmA0C2qDfYvp98BnlB0chitGeJdNZKAnvh5b_3-Z7MC7O-yjtK2n6KCAQK4azPj9w3OpYIwqExk4emH7GCH7Z8w/w400-h387/image.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br />
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">An Official Language, by
comparison, is a language recognised by a state; and perhaps more specifically
is a language in which the state will validly conduct its operations both
public and secluded. To allay any further potential suspense, our main assertion
is that the Official Language of Malaysia should not just be Malay, but instead
we should be officially multilingual. Having official monolingualism explicitly
or implicitly communicates that all interaction with any arm of the state in an
official capacity should by default be done only in the Malay language, and that
any provision of that access or service in another language is an accommodation
or privilege that can be taken away at the whim of executive power. This legal
reality does not conform to the basic expectation of a citizenry to be afforded
a right to fair access to government services; both in practice as well as in
principle. This is self-evidently fundamentally unjust, and does not
descriptively address the reality of the multiracial – and indeed multilingual –
population of Malaysia. It is difficult to comprehend how such policy can be
anything other than the subtle hand of <i>Ketuanan </i>nationalism attempting
to culturally homogenise the population of the nation. At minimum it seems
reasonable to expect English, Mandarin, and Tamil to be given official status at
a Federal level; with state- or regional-level support for other languages (Iban,
Kadazan, perhaps Thai in the northern peninsular) and dialects (Chinese
dialects like Hakka or Hokkien, or perhaps Kelantanese Malay) as the needs may
require. The Federal aspect of this proposal is an arrangement which the
observant reader will note is already the present constitutional arrangement of
Singapore, though this proposal is materially different in that we would expect
at a Federal level any citizen to be able to conduct their affairs with any and
all representatives or organs of the state to a materially equivalent level in
any of the Federally Official Languages – an arrangement which we readily admit
is inspired by the standards set for <a href="https://europarlamentti.info/en/European-parliament/working-languages/">Working
Languages of the European Union</a>.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">As noted – hopefully uncontroversially
– above, the matter of official language is clearly not a constitutional one. The
drafting of the Constitution does not imply at basic construction that the Malay
language should be the sole official language, or specify that more than one
language cannot be appointed as official. Indeed, the National Language Acts
read together with the Constitution grant provisions for Sarawak and Sabah to
continue to use English in an official capacity. The current position of Malay
is a purely statutory one that could easily be repealed or amended by simple
majority in Parliament. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">In addition to the societally beneficial
changes outlined above, it should be noted that there are compelling arguments
as to why Malay should not be the sole official language; should the reader
believe in the principle of a secular, ethnically diverse Malaysian state. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">As can be seen in the previously
noted reactions of the Minister for Islamic Affairs and the Deputy Minister for
Human Resources to questions from reporters, native fluency of the Malay
language and/or the habitual speaking of it on a day-to-day basis is used as a
crude and aggressive purity test by <i>Ketuanan</i> Nationalists and their
sympathisers to arbitrarily define who is and is not a ‘true’ Malaysian. Any
such claims to test purity and loyalty through a test of the Malay Language run
counter to Articles 15-16A of the Federal Constitution, which clearly state
that a Malaysian Citizen by birth need not prove anything beyond their
paternity or maternity, as the case may be. Moving past the dangerous act of
seeking to qualify citizenship, the implicit declaration of an officially monolingual
language policy in this intrinsically multilingual society cannot be
cognisanced as anything other than a practically and symbolically exclusionary
exercise conducted to solidify the control of a ruling elite that reign by
virtue of the subtle manipulation of ethno-cultural fears and the pseudoscientific
taxonomification of ethnicity and identity. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">If a citizen is unable to; in a
language with which they are comfortable; effectively interact with, beg aid
from, or register grievance with their government, then that citizen for all
intents and purposes cannot effectively rely on the protection or auspices of such
government. In essence, such a government declares a linguistic conditionality
to the extent to which its protection extends over its citizens. Exclusive use
of Malay by the government and its representatives is simply not accessible in
a factual sense – it is prescriptive of the population as opposed to
descriptive. Official monolingualism is an attempt to impose through executive
and government fiat a means of behaviour upon the population that is simple and
incontrovertibly foreign to a significant minority thereof. It is important
that we make this point in no uncertain terms – the state, indirectly through
its explicit monopoly on legitimate coercive violence, establishes subsidiary
monopolies on regulation of behaviour and custom in a manner that arguably
oversteps reasonable limits, and through doing so disincentivises (through
implicit threat of violence) behaviour that is by no means harmful on an
individual or societal basis but which is nonetheless made pariah and
implicitly repugnant by the state for its own narrow benefit. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Malay – as with all other
languages – is not a culturally or politically neutral language. It is
intrinsically linked to the cultural identity and being of the Malay people and
holds stronger emotional pride for them than it does for non-Malay Malaysians. This
seemingly obvious description of the facts – and the concerns it raises – cannot
truly be ignored if we are to earnestly discuss the Official Language question.
That is, of course, unless the concerns of ethnic minority Malaysians simply do
not enter into your particular political calculus – as is the factual case for
many politicians running on a <i>Ketuanan</i> nationalist platform. Though no doubt
morally dubious, it is difficult to judge them for that decision given the
obvious personal stakes of championing any minority rights issue whilst
contesting a demographically majority-Malay constituency and risking losing
such a seat to PAS, BERSATU, PEJUANG, UMNO, or whichever the next party in this
particular cavalcade might be. This same political power structure, however,
has also made the Malay language subtly culturally taboo within minority
communities. Resistance to complete native assimilation with the Malay language
is in many corners now inevitably viewed through the political lens constructed
in direct opposition to the consuming, homogenising efforts of <i>Ketuanan</i>
nationalists – as preservation of distinct and historied cultural identity
against Borg-like assimilation, of pride in one’s own heritage. This is of
course a self-perpetuating cycle – but not one which we posit could possibly be
won through bullishly pushing the Malay language onto segments of the population
that will no doubt respond to such efforts with even more stubborn digging-in. In
a crude sense, the goal should not be to abolish all SMJKs, but to ensure all
SMKs have competitive Mandarin instruction, and that all SMJKs have excellent
standards of Malay teaching, that the difference becomes negligible in terms of
educational opportunities afforded. It is with dispirited resignation that we point
out that as long as ethnic politicisation and cultural indoctrination form the primary
focus of education – that it is used as a tool of politics as opposed to an
investment in future labour resources; this is not a feasible outcome, or even
in many cases a desirable one to the inhabitants of positions of authority
within the current state structure.<span style="mso-no-proof: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxVDhKVUZTb1N8Aiwd543Oeh6S5oeeXIar-HRCop9H4JaB5WEsSHoJ7pOBMCnhhyrmt0QzustnShwTTaNlpkwIoUhHW-nV4uJFEJnHGQKcGnx0OY7kR0oPQ4XEkrJBWGT14JF41wU4sQ/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="710" data-original-width="559" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxVDhKVUZTb1N8Aiwd543Oeh6S5oeeXIar-HRCop9H4JaB5WEsSHoJ7pOBMCnhhyrmt0QzustnShwTTaNlpkwIoUhHW-nV4uJFEJnHGQKcGnx0OY7kR0oPQ4XEkrJBWGT14JF41wU4sQ/w504-h640/image.png" width="504" /></a></div><br /><br />
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">The imposition of the Malay
language by subtle force is one of the numerous tendrils of an insidious
programme of cultural erasure – most grotesquely seen in <a href="https://www.malaymail.com/news/malaysia/2021/01/21/suhakam-reports-forced-conversion-of-sarawakian-native-children-over-mykad/1942696">attempts
to without consent convert minors in East Malaysia to Islam.</a> It would of
course be hyperbolic and sensationalist to place the policy of Malay as the
sole official language on the same continuum as a horrific act such as this
without reason. We need look only to a <a href="https://www.gemilang.org/2021/09/the-many-failures-of-malaysian.html">previous
entry</a> in this Journal and recall that the Constitution explicitly defines
one of the markers of being legally Malay as speaking the Malay Language to
understand that cultural programming is an essential part of the <i>Ketuanan</i>
nationalism project – by its structural design it seeks to aggressively
(re)categorise individuals through the replacement of any and all distinctive cultural
markers. Even the most subtle and minor differences cause disproportionate
consternation: though the dear doctor’s <a href="https://twitter.com/NewsBFM/status/1470234612123111426">discomfort with
chopsticks</a> made for amusing outrage for the briefest of moments; his
underlying, dog-whistle message can only be described as malicious and ominous
when taken in any context. For him and those of his political persuasion, difference
of even the subtlest variety from what he considers the norm in any form,
whether in habit, thought, belief, or practice is abhorrent and deviant. Down
to the smallest detail – in how you choose to put food into your mouth – the <i>Ketuanan
</i>vision of nationalism that the doctor and people of his ilk imagine does
not allow for anything but a self-described purity they doubtless see nowhere
but in the bathroom mirror. It would hardly surprise, had he been given an
island of only Malays to govern, to find that he would invent some way to divide
them up as well, into pures and impures by some arbitrary genetic peculiarity.
We are, after all, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WboggjN_G-4">the People’s
Front of Judea, not those bastards in the Judean People’s Front</a>. It is
additionally interesting the surprising silence of much of the Malay political
establishment after this comment, though simultaneously of course hardly
surprising since there is no political capital to be gained from their
constituents in defending the <i>pendatang</i> Chinamen, even as they socialise
with and grant lucrative contracts to those same Chinamen. It must be said in
no uncertain terms enforced integration and cultural-assimilation-by-erasure
are not morally neutral acts – especially not when they are spurred on by the
malignancy of <i>Ketuanan</i> nationalism. It is essential that the half-amusing
banality and seemingly benign comments about chopsticks <a href="https://www.freemalaysiatoday.com/category/nation/2022/01/05/i-didnt-play-race-card-with-chopsticks-remark-says-dr-m/">later
pleaded unconvincingly to have been taken out of context</a> must be understood
in the dogwhistling, subtly threatening tones that underpin it – to do
otherwise would be to underestimate both the old man and his many disciples - both
his rotating court of rivals and enemies, and his ever-erstwhile allies<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWG7dND1MxL_rRRWtdDEyZwG9c5Un4nfFa4OKgCr4PXUhYBfFnx60PD_XyZxlN9V4jnAPoBYiWr4GcdfZw3e_YOKHRLZlC8gWgEK9xImvpyGh5trQPLKZupf5nxt0Dsbf5P8yam8aSUw/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="940" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWG7dND1MxL_rRRWtdDEyZwG9c5Un4nfFa4OKgCr4PXUhYBfFnx60PD_XyZxlN9V4jnAPoBYiWr4GcdfZw3e_YOKHRLZlC8gWgEK9xImvpyGh5trQPLKZupf5nxt0Dsbf5P8yam8aSUw/w640-h400/image.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br />
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">The dear doctor’s Malay Dilemma
was about the place He envisaged for His people (using the regal – or perhaps Divine
– capitalised pronoun here, of course). Ours, on the other hand, was always far
more literal: the problem of being asked (or indeed forced) to use, mentally
& culturally associate with, and appear native in a language that one had
never used to communicate with loved ones, or indeed with which one had never communicated
with at all outside of specified lesson times through no fault of one’s own,
but merely as a result of the environment. This is no doubt true to a greater
or lesser degree for many non-Malay citizens of this country, and yet the
reality presented by the current legislative policy disregards this linguistic
reality. It is of course important to remember that this is <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/2642660">not a new argument or a concern</a>;
indeed we can only hope to have added some value to this long-running
discussion. The question that emerges and begs to be asked: To defend Malay, must
you sacrifice Malaysia?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51878565536560949.post-20478287925286310532021-09-18T07:05:00.009-07:002021-10-10T18:52:47.127-07:00The Many Failures of Malay(sian) Nationalism – Part 1<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5RGPJEid4CHBblEZDGdR5HfdEmMegf056xJBYScrWQd3Yrr5ttaeSCNoIZGem9AvJLa5zoylhyphenhyphenH42htwjcGYFphh6jWy006izoIwHpEU3X_FopQjtkQP2IjJXfDzkPd1b1Xo6ib0xnA/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="470" data-original-width="780" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5RGPJEid4CHBblEZDGdR5HfdEmMegf056xJBYScrWQd3Yrr5ttaeSCNoIZGem9AvJLa5zoylhyphenhyphenH42htwjcGYFphh6jWy006izoIwHpEU3X_FopQjtkQP2IjJXfDzkPd1b1Xo6ib0xnA/w640-h386/image.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;"><b>‘A nation
is the same people living in the same place.’ <o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;"><b><br /></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">‘By God,
then,’ says Ned, laughing, ‘If that’s so I’m a nation for I’m living in the
same place for the same five years.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">So of course
everyone had the laugh at Bloom and says he, trying to muck out of it: <b>‘-Or
also living in different places.’<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;"><b><br /></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;"><i>Ulysses, </i>by
James Joyce<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p><br /></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Nationalism in the abstract is
notoriously tricky to define: a cursory reference to Anderson’s seminal “<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imagined_Communities">Imagined Communities</a>”
should be sufficient prompting for the interested reader to investigate further
– the nation is a social construct limited to a certain in-group, in which members
of that in-group recognise their distinctiveness (which is in turn recognised
by other groups) on the basis of shared sociocultural practices and behaviours.
That thesis is broadly convincing insofar as it provides a basis for taxonomy
and categorisation; but in the service of inclusivity and general application
may not necessarily examine the purposive elements in the construction of
nationalist mythology that are relevant to our discussion. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">What can be described of nationalism – as the political force, theory, or impetus with the end-goal of constructing
or defending a nation – by observation? As above, nationhood requires commonly
accepted identifying markers, and nationalism serves as a social force enforcing
(through implicit censure and social opprobrium) relative consistency and
orthodoxy with regards these markers. These markers are typically (though
non-exhaustively) ethnic, linguistic, religious, and/or cultural. This is not
to say that nations are culturally monolithic in any of these dimensions – but
the domination of a particular ‘normality’ as a way of life at the very least
resigns alternative lifestyles to the fringes as aberrative or deviant (with or
without the moral judgment that might be presupposed in those descriptions). Disagreements
or socio-cultural schisms at a magnitude above a particular critical size of
one variety or another inevitably lead to conflict or divergence developing
within groups previously considering themselves a single nation.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">In acknowledging this
cultural-marker model of nationhood, it is important to recognise that not all
nations have an equality of historicity – a statement which we hope is
understood as a comment on a Nation’s historical validity, as opposed to
present legitimacy; if the fine difference might be appreciated. Nations may
well in fact exist today, but this does not obliviate their anachronism, if
any. Irredentism can be as easily cultural as it is geographical – just ask the
Slavic North Macedonians about their national hero, the Greek (and, arguably
near the end of his life, culturally Persian!) <a href="https://theculturetrip.com/europe/greece/articles/was-alexander-the-great-greek-or-macedonian/">Alexander
the Great</a>. All this is preamble to the point that different nationhoods are
at different levels of maturity and stability – irrespective of and separate to
alarmist claims made by nationalists of all nations. Old nations with distinct
and acknowledged cultural markers (even markers and customs commonly honoured
by members of that nation more in the breach than the observance) are
inherently more confident about their security and continuity; young nations
may feel the weight of imagined artificiality upon them and so find outlet and
expression in extremist, puritanical, and otherwise radically delineating
behaviour. This in turn expresses itself in the dominant manifestations of
nationhood as individualistic or communitarian respectively: is the primary
means of embodying or displaying these markers of nationhood internalised and
self-actualised, or performative-demonstrative and communitarian? Is any given
individual ‘Nationalist’ more ultimately interested in protecting their
perceived position as a result of being a member of that nation; or interested
in protecting the nation’s position and dignity writ large? There must and will
be, of course, expressions of both varieties in all nationhoods – but as with
all dichotomies, tendencies towards either extreme will manifest. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/e/e1/Alexander_the_Great_mosaic.jpg"></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh88NlduoEc6syCTjGhIzXNmdut2M_rLRzONZ5dGDJoJHHYc_3CCKo_YSq2FbAYlxoviu-WW98_6l1SuJAaBeYoyyUmfbkf_H_yMR9jWb4VAqGnjuVFnkqXNWU1VD222oXJgSuyPee9-g/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1229" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh88NlduoEc6syCTjGhIzXNmdut2M_rLRzONZ5dGDJoJHHYc_3CCKo_YSq2FbAYlxoviu-WW98_6l1SuJAaBeYoyyUmfbkf_H_yMR9jWb4VAqGnjuVFnkqXNWU1VD222oXJgSuyPee9-g/w400-h240/image.png" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div><br /><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Nationhood must also be on some
level self-defined – it is not <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Italian_nationalism">unfeasible</a> or
impossible to impose a new (or perhaps supra-) national identity onto a group
or groups of people, but this is <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yugoslavism">untenable and unsustainable</a>
without a level of acceptance from the population. This level of acceptance can
wax and wane with time; and more specifically with the ability of the authority
imposing such new nationalism to respond to crises and adverse conditions –
whether the confidence of your average Civitas Romana in the collapsing Western
Roman Empire during the Barbarian Invasions, or the average modern-day
European’s faith in the Pan-European ideal of an increasingly beleaguered EU. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Irrespective of that, a nation will
definitionally cease to exist without individuals and groups of individuals
claiming to be a part of it. Further, mutual recognition of the distinctiveness
of such nation by people claiming to be of another nation is important – if my
tribe thinks of your tribe as separate, and vice versa; then we must be
separate. If nations obtain legitimacy – in part at least – through mutual
social recognition, we should at least consider the digressionary question of
whether the State has a valid interest in defining nationhood. The prevalence
of the nation-state in the post-WWII world may <i>prima facie</i> render the
question moot – the state and the nation in many cases are indistinguishable
(or at least the state apparatus would seek to portray this to be the case). But
what is to happen when my tribe thinks we are different from yours, but yours
thinks we are just an estranged offshoot? What legitimate rights does a state
have to prevent or impede the manifested secessionism of a self-identified
nation? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Nationhood is often also
geographical – though as the Jewish-Irishman (notwithstanding his three
baptisms) Bloom discovered a moment too late, this particular identifying
feature of nationhood is less common than idealised. It is true, for the most
part, across Europe – a direct result of the movement away from multi-ethnic,
multi-national Empires in the early-to-mid 20<sup>th</sup> Century. However,
the correlation between geographic, cultural, and political borders becomes
less precise as we move elsewhere in the Old World, across Africa, the Middle
East, and Asia; where borders are often drawn on the basis of historical
political compromise, insensitive colonial administration, or as a legacy of
personal feudal land ownership. As a means of crude, unacademic comparison; we
might see some similarities between the maddening complexity of the Holy Roman
Empire and the oft-times chaotic borders of post-colonial Eurasia – a geography
pockmarked by overlapping venn mandalas of ethnic and religious and political
boundaries. Indeed, returning to Europe we see that her remaining states with
significant multi-national populations are as a rule arguably artificial and
geopolitically minor buffer states like Belgium or Switzerland; or prone to
increasingly vocal nationalist separatist sentiment like the UK or Spain. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj51l2-bW5CkEpts48N7sehDQsR7W8aHrX67N9c5pWY1I4bfo8ghtSFAMavc-bMLVPjkU2jSfKxF0Aly0rKH3QiAVOflYy_0d5a-R4OiwVYRKcmUTw83oExVzszqyobmPXD0NrgaNi0pg/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1854" data-original-width="1534" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj51l2-bW5CkEpts48N7sehDQsR7W8aHrX67N9c5pWY1I4bfo8ghtSFAMavc-bMLVPjkU2jSfKxF0Aly0rKH3QiAVOflYy_0d5a-R4OiwVYRKcmUTw83oExVzszqyobmPXD0NrgaNi0pg/w332-h400/image.png" width="332" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">With all the above in mind, we
consider two types of nationalism that loom large in the imagination of
Malaysians – Malay Nationalism and Malaysian Nationalism. It may be relevant to
now point out that our instant discussion will concern only the former at this point.
Malaysian Nationalism is a far more difficult idea to define and examine (for a
multitude of reasons, including that it may not even exist!) It is abstract,
ahistorical, and requires both effort on the part of the minority and
sacrifices on the part of the majority. Malaysian nationalism has to be a
nationalism built on compromise and concession – more than this, hypothetical
or real Malaysian nationalism requires the amalgamation of at least three
distinct and strong National identities to have any semblance of legitimacy;
and the participation and integration of dozens other identities to be truly
representative. These are all significant and important issues, but beyond the
scope of our discussion for today. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Malay Nationalism, on the other
hand, is self-evidently a far more feasible socio-political project: three of
the current parties in government coalition are explicitly or implicitly Malay
Nationalist; every Prime Minister (and even Prime Ministerial potential) since
independence has a strong pedigree in Malay Nationalist organisations. As we
explore Malay Nationalism as a project, it is important to keep in mind a
central question: can Malay Nationalism peacefully coexist alongside Malaysian
Nationalism, and does Malay Nationalism consider Malaysian Nationalism a
threat? <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">It would be historically
revisionist to suggest that Malay Nationalism developed in the same manner or
under the same circumstances as myriad European nationalisms did (definitely in
the aftermath of the Second World War, and arguably beginning to develop in
their modern incarnations as far back as the end of the 30 Years War with the
Peace of Westphalia) – carved out in violent conflict, of schism within schism.
Malay cultural identity (much like the language) is a multi-layered
agglutinative process – Arab Muslim traders influencing Indianised Hindu
kingdoms influencing underlying <a href="https://www.thepatriots.asia/raja-hawaii-yang-mengaku-dirinya-melayu/">Austronesian
Native culture</a>. The conception of a unified Malay polity is a 20<sup>th</sup>
century invention – a stark contrast to the scattered, diverse, and
oft-internecine Sultanates, Bendaharates, Kedatuaan, Undangs, and myriad other
polities that existed throughout what is today termed <i>Nusantara</i>. Whilst
they might have shared a cultural conception of themselves as related and part
of the same ‘nation’ (ignoring the anachronism of such a term in the times of
which we are speaking); what else did, say, the Sultans of Pattani Darul Makrif
truly have in common in terms of shared cultural, military, geopolitical, or
economic interests with the Bendahara Dynasty of the Old Johor-Riau Empire? The
geography of maritime South-East Asia prioritised and advantaged trade and
tribute as a system of relationships; in stark contrast to the brutal jungle
warfare that characterised Medieval and early Modern Indochina – the historical
legacies of both these geopolitical realities continue to be seen to this day
in the comparative military and economic strengths and makeups of the ASEAN member
states. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Whilst an historical Malay nation
might be validly conceived of in cultural terms – perhaps most distinctly
through mythological literature such as the <i>Malay Annals</i> which provide a
shared point of religio-cultural context on which to build and legitimate later
political structures – there never was a single Sultanate of Nusantara; or a
single Sultan or line of Sultans who claimed and were acknowledged as suzerain
over all Malay Kingdoms in the way European feudal ‘nation’-analogues were
gradually constructed and centralised. Indeed, this remains the case to this
day – the distinctly Malay Sultanate of Brunei exists in its own form of
splendid isolation on Borneo, to say nothing of the unique form of elective
monarchy that installs the Yang di-Pertuan Agong in Malaysia. The historical
Malay nation was a cultural construct, not a political one. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYkQBN7sf5C5F2BVaWfb2Nsg2Q9B_9OGntqDvJWBN0EiBRi_PZzjWQ_IxXFm1yfnt_HmZR6GNMKKUutAsKR6YKCSMDFiz2jWQyaFxN1Cjewf9E7sae7qr-xajTQyW2qEGncOcWYWVgiQ/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1213" data-original-width="1600" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYkQBN7sf5C5F2BVaWfb2Nsg2Q9B_9OGntqDvJWBN0EiBRi_PZzjWQ_IxXFm1yfnt_HmZR6GNMKKUutAsKR6YKCSMDFiz2jWQyaFxN1Cjewf9E7sae7qr-xajTQyW2qEGncOcWYWVgiQ/w400-h303/image.png" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div><br />
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">So – from whence does the modern,
political version of Malay Nationalism spring? Perhaps it began, as many things
did, with the colonial interference of the British Empire. Linguistic unity is
often a tell-tale marker of nationhood, and attempts by the British to standardise
Malay using the Johor-Riau-Ligga dialect as a <i>lingua franca</i> certainly
would seem like a reasonable place to start, if applying Anderson’s model of
Nationhood. This effort appears to have had limited success – Indonesian and
Malay have diverged significantly in vocabulary and grammar since their
nations’ respective Independences; and woe betide you should you, armed only
with your Klang Valley Malay, venture to Kelantan. Instead, perhaps we see the
genesis of political unity in the Federated Malay states that the British
administered? To which the obvious counterpoint springs from the specificity of
that name – and that the Unfederated Malay States made up a sizeable part of
the peninsula. Neither of these seem to be a reasonable genesis for modern Malay
Nationalism – neither creates or prescribes a specific or natural boundary or
criteria around which to define a nation.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">In the absence of clear
historical precedent to define nationhood, the state has taken it upon itself
to step into this cultural vacuum and appoint itself arbiter of who does and
does not constitute a part of this fuzzily-defined nation. To be Malay in
modern Malaysia is to be extensively classified and categorised by the automatic
operation of law – a curious process that is exemplary of the peculiar tendency
for statutory legal definitions to introduce more ambiguity and uncertainty
than they solve. To be Malay is ethnically complex – whilst no doubt an uncomplicatedly
‘Malay’ ethnic group exists, there are definitional boundaries and grey areas
that create complications to notions of monolithic ethnic purity. Consider
people of Bugis and Melanau ethnicity, who have distinct subethnic identities
within the wider Malay ethnic group. Indeed, this separation is so distinct as
to form a core constitutional aspect of the Sultanate of Riau-Lingga, where the
Malay Sultan served as Head of State, and a Bugis Yang di-Pertuan Muda served
as Head of Government. The distinctiveness and separation but close kindred
feeling of the two ‘nations’ is clear in the Sultanate’s Oath of Sungai Baru,
which reads as follows:<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184;">
<tbody><tr style="mso-yfti-firstrow: yes; mso-yfti-irow: 0; mso-yfti-lastrow: yes;">
<td style="border-right: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border: none; mso-border-right-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0cm 5.4pt; width: 225.4pt;" valign="top" width="301">
<p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: right;"><span style="background: white; color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">...</span><span style="background: white; color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">جكالاو</span><span style="background: white; color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">
</span><span style="background: white; color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">توان</span><span style="background: white; color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="background: white; color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">كڤد</span><span style="background: white; color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">
</span><span style="background: white; color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">بوڬيس</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; margin: 6pt 0cm; text-align: right;"><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">توانله</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">كڤد</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">ملايو</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><br />
</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">دان</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">جكالاو</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">توان</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">كڤد</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">ملايو</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><br />
</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">توانله</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">كڤد</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">بوڬيس</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><br />
<br />
</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">دان</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">جكالاو</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">موسوه</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">كڤد</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">بوڬيس</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><br />
</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">موسوهله</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">كڤد</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">ملايو</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><br />
</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">دان</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">جكالاو</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">موسوه</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">كڤد</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">ملايو</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><br />
</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">موسوهله</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">كڤد</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">بوڬيس</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><br />
<br />
</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">مك</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">بارڠسياڤا</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">موڠكير</span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: right;"><span style="background: white; color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">دبينساكن</span><span style="background: white; color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="background: white; color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">الله</span><span style="background: white; color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">
</span><span style="background: white; color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">سمڤأي</span><span style="background: white; color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span><span style="background: white; color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">انق</span><span style="background: white; color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">
</span><span style="background: white; color: #202122; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">چوچوڽ</span><span style="background: white; color: #202122; font-family: "Arabic Typesetting"; font-size: 13pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">..."</span><o:p></o:p></p>
</td>
<td style="border: none; mso-border-left-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0cm 5.4pt; width: 225.4pt;" valign="top" width="301">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="background: white; color: #202122; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">...jikalau
tuan kepada Bugis,</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; margin: 6pt 0cm;"><i><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #202122; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">tuanlah kepada
Melayu</span></i><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #202122; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; margin: 6pt 0cm;"><i><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #202122; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">dan jikalau tuan
kepada Melayu</span></i><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #202122; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; margin: 6pt 0cm;"><i><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #202122; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">tuanlah kepada
Bugis</span></i><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #202122; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; margin: 6pt 0cm;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #202122; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><br />
<i>dan jikalau musuh kepada Bugis</i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; margin: 6pt 0cm;"><i><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #202122; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">musuhlah kepada
Melayu</span></i><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #202122; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; margin: 6pt 0cm;"><i><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #202122; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">dan jikalau musuh
kepada Melayu</span></i><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #202122; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; margin: 6pt 0cm;"><i><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #202122; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">musuhlah kepada
Bugis</span></i><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #202122; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; margin: 6pt 0cm;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #202122; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><br />
<i>maka barangsiapa mungkir</i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; margin: 6pt 0cm;"><i><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #202122; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">dibinasakan Allah
sampai anak cucunya...</span></i><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #202122; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 6.0pt; margin: 6pt 0cm;"><i><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #202122; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span></i></p>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJU11VueiqYOn2bRiFuvXCE0kUpswh2LvSJM-kr9dgwzXKTQYMRfdJMV3rw4KJvqlnx7F76k_6l0AiWU1KZuD3fAZO7o9zshYMP0d_tbSSwN6uUT5bwWyL6Yno-ir_HKF2HudCRyYljA/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="515" data-original-width="620" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJU11VueiqYOn2bRiFuvXCE0kUpswh2LvSJM-kr9dgwzXKTQYMRfdJMV3rw4KJvqlnx7F76k_6l0AiWU1KZuD3fAZO7o9zshYMP0d_tbSSwN6uUT5bwWyL6Yno-ir_HKF2HudCRyYljA/" width="289" /></a></div><br />
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">This acknowledgement of other
ethnicities overlapping to some degree or another with wider Malay identity can
also be seen in modern Malay folk who self-identify as ancestrally or
culturally aligning to places in modern-day Indonesia (e.g. Java). Indeed,
ethnicity as a biological/genealogical marker as a whole is scarcely relevant
in defining membership in a modern Malay nation – we have to look no further
than the current Director-General of Health, YBhg. Tan Sri Dato’ Seri Dr Noor
Hisham Abdullah, who is uncontroversially and as a matter of public record known
to be born ethnically Chinese as Yew Ming Seong. Article 160 of the Federal
Constitution provides that identification as a Malay is done purely on the
basis of behavioural, religious, and cultural markers; with no reference to
ethnicity in what must be acknowledged as a surpassingly liberal and
progressive idea, in principle. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Article 160 further provides that
to be Malay is to be definitionally a practitioner of Islam. The obvious
hypothetical is then presented of an individual who is born Malay by ethnicity
and who subsequently chooses to convert out of Islam to another religion, or to
choose to be a person of no faith entirely – does such a person no longer have
a legal ethnicity in Malaysia? The fact is, of course, that such an action is a
legal impossibility under current Malaysian law – such a person would most
certainly in any case be <i>persona non grata</i> should their unorthodox
religious beliefs become public. It should also be noted that whilst Article
160 only requires the practicing of Islam without specificity; it is clear that
through the reserved powers of Their Highnesses the Malay Rulers in their respective
States, and of His Majesty the Yang di-Pertuan Agong more generally, with
regards the practice of Islam within the Federation as exercised through royal,
state, and national religious organs, bodies, and founts of authority as the
case may be, the only valid form of Islam for this purpose would be
Malaysian-orthodox Shafi’i Sunni Islam. Accordingly, any Shi’a Muslims, or
Muslims of other minority sects such as the Ahmadiyya are definitionally not
legally Malay, irrespective of ethnic identity. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">The legal mechanisms of Article
160 supersede community recognition of Nationhood; and supplants it instead
with recognition of Nationhood defined by the State, and enforced with the
implicit threat from the State’s monopoly on persuasive violence. Instead of
groups of persons organically identifying and delineating nations by process of
mutual recognition; the State imposes shibboleths as artificial standards by
which to try to categorise and regularise what is an inherently amorphous,
indistinct, and fluid. We have to look only at the cases of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lina_Joy">Lina Joy</a> or <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wong_Ah_Kiu">Wong Ah Kiu</a> to understand
that the Malaysian state has been and continues to be willing to ignore
individual choice, rights, and freedoms in pursuit of maintaining the veneer of
strict ethnic orthodoxy. The rights of individuals are irrelevant
considerations insofar as the political project of maintaining a cohesive and
indefatigable Malay nation is concerned. Individual and community recognition
of who is and is not a member of the Nation is irrelevant when faced with the
enforced categorisation and subsequent compulsory recognition of the State, for
its own political purposes. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGNCXLmmG1LoEdSoPRo33V6lir-UerCyKla-s9MdYkg19iLP-zFedSYT5LQbYOyjzI0JqJ9gFNMY8chkSiaS1_JXxv4UTJZwuS4nQysgOJb4zFuIhyeKvpOUkDIe-OOQEC2etZpG4p2A/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="246" data-original-width="348" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGNCXLmmG1LoEdSoPRo33V6lir-UerCyKla-s9MdYkg19iLP-zFedSYT5LQbYOyjzI0JqJ9gFNMY8chkSiaS1_JXxv4UTJZwuS4nQysgOJb4zFuIhyeKvpOUkDIe-OOQEC2etZpG4p2A/w400-h283/image.png" width="400" /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGNCXLmmG1LoEdSoPRo33V6lir-UerCyKla-s9MdYkg19iLP-zFedSYT5LQbYOyjzI0JqJ9gFNMY8chkSiaS1_JXxv4UTJZwuS4nQysgOJb4zFuIhyeKvpOUkDIe-OOQEC2etZpG4p2A/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFdba6dXgKp-pUYII9ACGAPZeOAF0BlI034Ig3AgaIfCGCr2Sj3vTPtRdUgAXKCzFv-KJdG5fPU3DL8KESHJHpLCR07XSi_kaW67RsD9SKG23Ojco4mEJ7HlbIrNtwHrm9EIX4C88S9A/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="120" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFdba6dXgKp-pUYII9ACGAPZeOAF0BlI034Ig3AgaIfCGCr2Sj3vTPtRdUgAXKCzFv-KJdG5fPU3DL8KESHJHpLCR07XSi_kaW67RsD9SKG23Ojco4mEJ7HlbIrNtwHrm9EIX4C88S9A/w300-h400/image.png" width="300" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0000ee;"><u><br /></u></span></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Indeed, an argument might
reasonably be made that the legal absolutism that characterises the definition
of Malay-ness that operates within Malaysia today is a relic and legacy of the
taxonomy and classification obsessed Colonial Service of the British Empire –
with their oft ill-advised attempts to divide up the vast lands under their
thumb during the height of Empire into little boxes acceptable to rationalist
Victorian sensibilities; as opposed to the chaotic and interrelated mish-mash
of culture and identity that their Empire in reality was. Malaya, as with the
other quarter of the world’s landmass that flew a Union Jack; was categorised
and cut up and organised with the same amateur confidence with which a
medium-sized Civil Service office in Whitehall was run – and following the only
method the Empire knew: strict, uncompromising, moderately-well-researched
absolute requirements – no more, no less. The only conceivable response, once
cognisant of the fuzzy swamp of nationhood and identity that Malay-ness
presented, was to create and enforce arguably arbitrary tests to define
Malay-ness. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">It should be by now
uncontroversial to the reader to point out that racialised politics – even if
generously considered to be benevolently racialised – have been central to
Malaysian (and before that, Malayan) political life since the concept of Malaya
as a state or polity began. Having explored the historical background leading
up to the development of modern Malay Nationalism, we look to more recent
history in the era leading up to and immediately after Merdeka to understand
the historical context by which the political project that has since become
indistinguishable from Malay Nationalism developed. The modern political Malay
Nationalism we have described herein is and will be forever irrevocably wrapped
up with the Malaysian Malay genesis narrative of postcolonial Malaya – of a
majority population of poor, rural, agricultural Malays being forced against
their will to compete in a rapidly and confusing modernising economy, against
commercially-minded <i>pendatang </i>brought to Malaya without the consent of
the Malays by British colonisers. A narrative which conveniently ignores the millennia
of cultural and economic contact and exchange between the various Malay
kingdoms and polities on the Peninsula and amidst the archipelagos of maritime
South-East Asia, and the wider Indian Ocean and South China Sea trade networks
– trade networks that were so vast and developed as to allow Claudius Ptolemy,
a Roman Citizen living in Alexandria in the 2<sup>nd</sup> Century, to be aware
of a land called <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_Chersonese">the
Golden Chersonese</a> with a settlement called Konkonagara (cf. Kekolong
Negara). A narrative which also forgets both historical and more recent
migration tendencies of Malay and Malay-adjacent persons from across Maritime
South East Asia to the peninsula – an economic migration pattern hardly likely
to have been undertaken by commercially ignorant subsistence agriculturalists. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Despite these obvious shortcomings,
this narrative has informed much of the justification, rationale, and
underlying first principles of modern political Malay Nationalist ideology. The
impact of this narrative manifests as a combination of domestic irredentism and
proselytising puritanicalism, drawing strength from and reinforcing the
mechanistic and consuming definition of Malayness forwarded by the political
Malay Nationalist project – Malayness cannot be diverse; but instead must be
defended and conceptualised in a mythologised, monolithically pure form – which
itself forms an imagined ideal to aspire to and push for a return to. What
might be described as <i>Ketuanan </i>Nationalism begins with the <i>prima
facie</i> assumption of oppression: it justifies its existence as having been
constructed in response to and in defence of a peoples being economically
marginalised and left behind within what they claim as their homeland. This
justification is, of course, irrespective of arguments that might be rightfully
raised about exactly whom these peoples are, what they define as the borders of
their ancestral country, and the nature of the oppression they claim to be
suffering. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1faZ_FzIK5nO_V20fk0Rp6ZX4DqLi5uRJpArq_ygBDhcax6uTcy2-eP6R6HFccHv5V6i4WULXeUudVrPHqVCVmCRmfvKB3OL-Tlu0oAVOpUlUG0yD3xoF0bhHqhFsEP4netYOxayCxA/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="288" data-original-width="400" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1faZ_FzIK5nO_V20fk0Rp6ZX4DqLi5uRJpArq_ygBDhcax6uTcy2-eP6R6HFccHv5V6i4WULXeUudVrPHqVCVmCRmfvKB3OL-Tlu0oAVOpUlUG0yD3xoF0bhHqhFsEP4netYOxayCxA/w400-h288/image.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">This presumption of oppression informs
and shapes the overriding, overarching nationalistic project of <i>Ketuanan</i>
Nationalism – the project is not about defending what they feel is rightfully ‘ours’
and factually in ‘our’ possession in the manner that characterises many other
types of ethnic in-group nationalism. Instead, <i>Ketuanan </i>Nationalism
seeks to recapture what it imagines was unfairly or inequitably taken away. Accordingly,
whilst we might at first instance expect to find and recognise where such <i>Ketuanan</i>
Nationalism shares much in common with the ideology of contemporary American
& European White Nationalism (prominently including, but not limited to: an
obsession with group purity, despite being historically as diverse and mongrelised
as any other arbitrary ethnic population; and an overriding religious message
and tone – with just a hint of implication of divine destiny or pre-eminence);
we should in reality be far more concerned about the how the methods of <i>Ketuanan</i>
Nationalism might echo extremist Black Nationalism and Left-Wing Anti-White-Nationalism,
with its open license to utilise violence, aggression, and militancy justified
as a proportionate response to an innately violent and oppressive system; its
denigration of identified-oppressors as subhuman justified through reference to
historical grievance whether real, exaggerated in the mind, or entirely
imagined. In essence, <i>Ketuanan</i> Nationalism imagines itself existing in
the equivalent of the world that <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_Dawn_(Greece)">Golden Dawn</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jobbik">Jobbik</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/UK_Independence_Party">UKIP</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alternative_for_Germany">Alternative für
Deutschland</a> and countless other nationalist-populist parties in Europe
fearmongeringly preach will be the destiny of that continent in 10 years – a land
populated by a formerly glorious master race of some description being unfairly
trampled upon and economically and socially ostracised in their own country. When
understanding <i>Ketuanan </i>Nationalists through this prism, their reactionary
behaviour becomes almost understandable. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><i>Ketuanan</i> Nationalism, as
explained above, has never been about defending a perceived acceptable or
beneficial status quo – the foundational mythos of this nationalism is of oppression
and disadvantage, and a noble struggle for reclamation. This core ideal
contributed significantly to the development of <i>Ketuanan</i> Nationalism as primarily
imagined in communitarian, not individualistic, nationalist terms. Because the narrative
of <i>Ketuanan</i> Nationalism assumes that ‘the Malay’ in abstract is
economically bereft of property and value, there is no requirement to defend individual
Malays as they have nothing to defend. Instead, the essential Nationalist manifestation
of effort is in how individuals can contribute to the imagine rebuilding of the
dignity – <i>maruah </i>– of the community. This in turn explains the relative
ambivalence of the wider Malay community towards the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=194892349243814">inequitable
distribution of economic rewards</a>. There is a tacit acceptance of the
flamboyant and oft-ostentatiously conspicuous consumption of the Malay
political and economic elite by the wider populace, despite the abject poverty
many of their constituents and dependent clients subsist in: the exaggerated success
of particular individuals is nonetheless viewed as a community victory and
success against perceived ethnic rivals. The very existence of successful
individuals, despite the oppression narrative of <i>Ketuanan</i> nationalism, is
an occurrence that brings honour and dignity to the group as a whole; even when
the boons of that success are dramatically inequitably distributed within the
group. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">To take the argument a step
further – this likely also explains the common ‘gratitude’ narrative that
accompanies Malay unwillingness to discuss, disclose, or question the source of
material wealth. Dissuading inquiry and couching dismissal of such inquiry in
religious and cultural terms (as <i>rezeki</i>, et al.) serves a dual purpose:
to impart an element of the sacred and divine to the material acquisitions,
linking them to Divine favour and providence as rewards for implied
righteousness, and in doing so morally elevating the fortunate possessor as
being more worthy of rewards (in a manner not dissimilar to the Evangelical
Protestant Prosperity Gospel that has taken root in decadent America); as well
as to imply and in many ways threaten religious opprobrium for questioning the
wisdom of Divine Providence in deigning to provide certain privileged people
with certain rewards and gifts. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7LhF5mZ51nIS01WpBpWKy9gzh_-QHGtn_MqSPdr88Ux1xk4mzNBh7VQ6fuG3UbRX5O9dboKReGvK1P26cFP4Al1bBE5jO1rUKbtT_czdTS76e52NWTPFFYZ1omamaFUDgEf0250l6xA/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="433" data-original-width="650" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7LhF5mZ51nIS01WpBpWKy9gzh_-QHGtn_MqSPdr88Ux1xk4mzNBh7VQ6fuG3UbRX5O9dboKReGvK1P26cFP4Al1bBE5jO1rUKbtT_czdTS76e52NWTPFFYZ1omamaFUDgEf0250l6xA/" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">It is this selfsame communitarian
expression of nationalism that serves as a convincing explanation as to why it
is an open secret that is relatively – if quietly and discretely – accepted that
Malay sociopolitical elites can and regularly do breach any number of religious
and cultural taboos that would otherwise be imposed on and expected of ‘true
Malays’, in the strictest <i>Ketuanan </i>Nationalism definition of the concept.
Drug and alcohol use, irreligiousness, homosexuality – all are acceptable, if
deviant, secrets so long as the public façade and image of continued orthodoxy
is maintained to a plausibly deniable degree. In many way this is symptomatic
of true Malay Nationalism’s underlying flexibility and comfort with ambiguity
at the fringes of its definition – but critically antithetical to the consuming
monolith of <i>Ketuanan</i> Nationalism. The latter nonetheless creates an
unconvincing but internally consistent justification for these cultural ‘abnormalities’:
by imagining Malay National identity as an inherently and ultimately
communitarian one; the failures or shortcomings of flawed individuals do not detract
from the overall narrative of purity, even if those individuals with
shortcomings are leaders that espouse the purity narrative at length and with
fervour. Individual Malays can and will be flawed; but the conceptual, abstract
Malay Nation as a whole remains orthodox. As the existence of these hypocrisies
becomes more evident, it is subsequently not unreasonable or surprising that the
frequency and intensity of nativist reactionary kneejerks (such as the rise of
PAS, or the increasing spread of Wahabism) is on the increase. It is, however, equally
unsurprising that the leaders preaching such reactions nevertheless inherit the
cultural legacies, baggage, and practices of existing <i>Ketuanan</i>
Nationalism – creating a world of paradoxical doublespeak where the same
individuals that indulge in culturally taboo vices are also the stalwart
defenders and promoters of cultural orthodoxy. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">We have observed and explored
Malay Nationalism, and more specifically a specific brand of <i>Ketuanan</i>
Nationalism; as a contradictory, oft ill-defined, and increasingly extremist
and absolutist way to compensate for and paper over the existence of
uncomfortable grey areas and fringe cases carved out by individuals and groups
of individuals which do not neatly conform to communitarian ideals of Malay
Nationalism. Whilst contradiction and complexity are by no means unique to Malay
Nationalism, what is <i>sui generis</i> to it is the political albatross around
its neck of being used to support and maintain a highly conflict-prone
racialised political system and environment for the benefit of a small privileged
minority for the better part of a century. Malay Nationalism – indeed, <i>Ketuanan</i>
Nationalism – is indisputably a political force that is able to win General
Elections in this country, but one has to wonder if it would be capable of
doing so in isolation. It is difficult to imagine the Malay Nationalism we see
in Malaysia Today without the omnipresent <i>pendatang </i>other against which
to define itself. Would these inherent contradictions and hypocrisies survive in
a political environment where they weren’t necessary to present a unified
cultural-political bulwark against perceived racial and ethnic competitors?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">In Part 2, we will examine what
Malaysian Nationalism could have been, is, and might be. <o:p></o:p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51878565536560949.post-4888315379371386022021-08-31T05:50:00.004-07:002021-09-15T20:22:51.133-07:00Timeo Sabri et Dona Ferentes<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS8sG1tif4BdpL2xgzmcrsVHn7Ayhjl22WLTuimmVh5yWnCx9SwttMdcLdu9J9cwZuEiEk0jNkErpUeHypbj5uNrBHtqOAcvWp6ev1568bf2NPGQcub3HdM03GEkuCBMlf7vA25zUuwg/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="518" data-original-width="777" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS8sG1tif4BdpL2xgzmcrsVHn7Ayhjl22WLTuimmVh5yWnCx9SwttMdcLdu9J9cwZuEiEk0jNkErpUeHypbj5uNrBHtqOAcvWp6ev1568bf2NPGQcub3HdM03GEkuCBMlf7vA25zUuwg/" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">In Post-Apartheid South Africa, the
new Mandela government established Truth and Reconciliation Committees – executors
of a complicated, oft painful process that had people of the black, coloured,
and otherwise-discriminated-against communities describe and share the harms and
pains they suffered individually and as communities; and people of communities
that apartheid favoured (to be clear and explicit, white South Africans)
explained the ways in which they benefitted, how they felt about Apartheid, and
their fears for the future. It was important that, whilst it was clear one
group of people was far more harmed than the other; there was an understanding
that the underlyingly unjust system of Apartheid had caused a great deal of
social and ethical harm, both to its victims as well as to its perpetrators.
Whilst individuals no doubt had their hands dirtied – and bloodied – with
complicity, the problem was bigger than any one individual had the power to
change. You had might as well have asked a lone soldier on the beaches of Normandy
to end the Second World War with a single shot. Individuals could be held
accountable, but only the system was guilty. An imperfect solution, painful for
all involved, and one which required active and conscious effort to maintain –
the hallmarks of a real compromise.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Only after a truth was
constructed – a truth emerging from compromise and conflicting viewpoints,
assembled from the testimonies of a nation; could national healing begin. It
bears reflecting upon – justice in an unjust system requires the oppressors of
that system to acknowledge their structural positions of power, even (perhaps
especially!) when there exist some or many individuals of that privileged group
who are not personally in positions of overwhelming privilege and material
wealth. It requires conscious admission of and regret for complicity, passive
or active – which <i>prima facie</i> requires an acceptance that the system was
unjust. It is these requirements that make any such movement towards Truth and
Reconciliation an as-of-now untenable dream in Malaysia. Myriad reasons exist
for this – most distinctly from the political class the fear of loss of face,
or of ethno-religious political legitimacy and clout. Admitting wrongdoing –
whether recent or historical – is so anathema to our leaders that they are not
above utilising the threat of state violence to rewrite history; or to
censor-by-libel-suit. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">All this bears remembering as we
consider how, after meetings with the new Prime Minister, the Rt Hon Dato’ Sri Ismail
Sabri MP, voices from within PH and the Opposition are beginning to speak more
widely of conciliation (not reconciliation, of course, as that requires
conciliatory behaviour to begin with) and cooperation with the new UMNO-led
government. Perhaps I am blessed with an overabundance of cynicism, but it
seems that never has a chalice been more clearly poisoned – you half expect to
see an evil stepmother out of a Disney film pour a conspicuous purple vial into
a goblet with a skull-and-crossbones puff of smoke. It seems the only real
consequential change at Putrajaya has been an upgrade in the quality of press
and media personnel, allowing the new Sabri government to sell his halfhearted
veneer of reform so successfully. His offer was and is, on the surface, an
opportunity for a more collegiate and compromise-ready politics – but is in
reality only looking to construct a blame-diffusing, responsibility-confusing
appearance of bipartisanship. Accepting or engaging with this government on
Sabri’s terms will indelibly damage the reputation and credibility of the opposition
as a liberal, principles-based grouping; which should and must be pit in
dichotomous conflict against (and in rejection of) the Ketuanaan-Islamist axis
of PPBM, UMNO, and PAS.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Even before Sabri, <a href="https://www.theedgemarkets.com/article/muhyiddin-offers-olive-branch-dangles-carrots-front-rival-mps-promises-reforms" target="_blank">Mahiaddin’s reforms were impotently dangled like withered carrotsin an ultimately futile attempt to claw back some form of parliamentary majority</a> – a deal which longtime PH-DAP stalwarts Tony Pua and Ong Kian Ming
appeared to push for in public (a decision they no doubt regret based on the
immediate public backlash from their supporters, though one fails to see how
they could have expected any different; and from the arms-length distancing
that Lim Guan Eng has since applied to their statements). Before even
commenting on the substantive issues with Mahiaddin’s offer; it should be
pointed out (with a massive red hand, cognisant of Denning LJ’s judgment in <i>Spurling
v Bradshaw</i>) that it is arguable that Mahiaddin had no legitimate
constitutional authority to extend that offer in the first place if he did not
possess the confidence of the majority of the Dewan Rakyat at that moment – as
implicitly or explicitly contended by both men to one degree or another, and by
their party. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">If Mahiaddin did not possess a
parliamentary majority – and therefore parliamentary and constitutional
legitimacy – at the point of making the “Anti-Kleptocrat Reform Offer”, that
must by simple operation of logic render that offer nothing more than the
too-late plea of a failed authoritarian trying to patch together a <i>wayang
kulit</i> of parliamentary majority through promising what should be minimum
expectations of civilised societies – fair financial treatment of MPs
irrespective of political party, suffrage for all legal adult citizens in
Malaysia, equal distribution of ostensibly cross-party Parliamentary Committee Chairs
between parties, and recognition of the position of Leader of the Opposition (a
position which was officially recognised by statute in the UK in 1937 -<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a full 10 years before Anwar was born). These
steps were proffered as great concessions to liberal reformers – when in
reality they should have been the basic demands to even sit down at the
negotiating table. Conceiving them as political mana from heaven, or as conciliatory
olive branches, is not only Nietzschean slave mentality of the highest order;
it is a spit in the face of reformers who aspire for something more than simply
basic democratic moral decency in this country.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Imagine the implied political
castration that would have been the outcome of making the Leader of the
Opposition a Cabinet member - which must by any standard expose them to the
principle of cabinet collective responsibility, providing the government of the
day an opportunity for blame-spreading with only the facade of apparent
power-sharing. And while an ‘anti-hopping bill’ and term limits on Prime
Ministers serving in office might seem populistically attractive, the precedent
set by either would be difficult to square with our current constitutional
system. Dicey wrote with clarity that Parliament cannot bind its successors –
surely this must also mean that Parliament cannot bind its members from sitting
and grouping as they feel is most appropriate for themselves as representatives
of their constituents, as has been their anointed right and privilege in the
Dewan Rakyat. Imagine an MP who is part of a party which is suddenly overtaken
by extremists of one kind or another – would they be barred from leaving their
party to form or join a new one? Political parties are not a constitutional nor
parliamentary requirement, and attempts to limit the freedom of MPs to
associate with parties as they feel morally and ethically correct are nothing
more than the overreaching Executive attempting to centrally regulate the
liberty of the Legislative. To say nothing of the appalling attempt to
introduce unconstitutional limitations and restrictions on HM the Yang
di-Pertuan Agong’s reserve powers to pick a Prime Minister whom he believes can
command the confidence of the Dewan Rakyat – a reserve power which Mahiaddin
had no constitutional business in attempting to legislatively influence,
control, or limit.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://www.thestar.com.my/news/nation/2021/08/22/ismail-sabri-offers-opposition-to-be-part-of-nrc-to-fight-the-covid-19-pandemic" target="_blank">The headliner of Sabri’s offer to the opposition is an offer to allow participation in the National Recovery Council (NRC)</a> – not the National Security Council (NSC) which has been
primarily responsible for the development and operationalisation of COVID SOPs
and restrictions. There have further been murmurings from within the opposition
asking for Mahiaddin’s deal from Sabri – which as I have explained above I
think would be a bad idea. Irrespective of the latter, it is puzzling to see
how the opposition would view being on the <i>ex post facto</i> advisory
committee as a benefit to any degree. They would be relegated to second-class
advisors in a body with no statutory decision-making powers, allowing the
government to simultaneously say that their views and input were considered
(but ultimately rejected); whilst also sharing and shouldering of blame. A
clear <i>modus operandum</i> emerges – feigning reform, transparency, and
bipartisanship are now critical tools for the Ketuanaan-Islamist axis to
consolidate their slim majorities, to attempt to pay lip service to assuage the
fears of moderates and liberals (without whose tax dollars they would not be able
to subsidise their Damansara Heights mansions), and to tempt potential
collaborators from the Opposition. It is surpassingly rich of the man who in
the past established the now-failed Mara Digital Malls after ethnic minority
small business owners were racially targeted and assaulted, and who insisted
that a boycott of Chinese businesses (for which he was investigated by the
Police) was not racist; is now attempting to portray himself as a Great
Conciliator; helped of course by his allies at PAS – a stunningly and famously
tolerant group of folk. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">In the crudest possible terms: in
asking for a political ceasefire, PAS is as full of shit as the Kabul airport
is currently full of desperate and innocent victims of Taliban barbarism. PAS
makes a sport of stoking extremism and an exclusionary religiousness that runs
counter to the Federal Constitution at every opportunity. PAS has never been
comfortable with the idea that Malaysia is not an ethnic, religious, or
linguistic monostate; and has for years fired provocation and insult at
non-Malay-Muslim communities from the security of their ethnoreligious battlements;
knowing full well that the sedition, racial and religious harmony, and libel
laws in this nation are inequitably skewed in their favour. The smokescreen of divinity
has given them a dubiously moral high ground on which to stand and demand
exemption from scrutiny or rebuke. PAS as an organisation no doubt deserves
some further exploration, if nothing else to discover the secret of their
boundless, unwarranted self-confidence. The actions of a single PAS minister (Takiyuddin)
were ultimately what fell the Mahiaddin government; the state governments they
control administrate the states with statistically lower incomes, education
levels, diversity in political participation, and women’s rights; and in an
upsetting but ultimately unsurprising development they have now (as part of the
governmental ruling coalition, no less) received official thanks and
congratulations for their particular brand of violent ignorance from the Taliban
– and how are they rewarded? 3 Ministers (including rewarding the same
Takiyuddin that received a royal rebuke from HM the YDPA for misleading the
House with the Ministry of Energy and Natural Resources) and 5 Deputy
Ministers. Small wonder they would like everyone to stop pointing out their
mistakes and ‘just get on with governing for the <i>rakyat’.</i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><i><br /></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">When Sabri’s Malaysian Family
purports to want to bring the nation back towards “the prosperity we once
enjoyed” whilst offering no discernible change in tack or course; the
earnestness of the offer comes into serious question. The conception of
prosperity favoured by Sabri and his ilk is and always will be at odds with
PH’s purported vision of post-racial politics and a pluralistic, broadly
secular Federation. The prosperity offered up is not one of widespread
opportunity and equitable standards of living – it is one of deeply entrenched,
neo-feudal networks of personal, kinship, and ethnic patronage. What is
intended is a return to the old order, with all the structural inequities that
go along with it; but with a new coat of democratic paint and feigned
accountability. The Opposition would be wise to treat with utter skepticism any
offer of bipartisanship forwarded by this new Prime Minister – they can and
should be certain that their voters will.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p></o:p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51878565536560949.post-39876173733138576462021-08-21T05:45:00.011-07:002021-09-15T20:21:43.525-07:00Historical Lessons for the Inauguration of PM9<p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuqt4o0MFh78rEQtCyWj9oiGwL6tGUhlKJRC8nqke9I7AqdhR7Mt2hK2ccbu_4PwzqK9nIaEgcbdO1I5frk7A37gcx4d-403iKGDCux_dUwW1GKfAifJoW2ABY44t7zTEtRiBnNypBYg/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1080" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuqt4o0MFh78rEQtCyWj9oiGwL6tGUhlKJRC8nqke9I7AqdhR7Mt2hK2ccbu_4PwzqK9nIaEgcbdO1I5frk7A37gcx4d-403iKGDCux_dUwW1GKfAifJoW2ABY44t7zTEtRiBnNypBYg/" width="320" /></a></div></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">The Malaysian
nation is young and vibrant. And yet, around the neck of our public life hangs
heavy the millstone of history. We have still never had a Prime Minister born
after this nation became independent – is it any wonder that we have not
developed the level of our discourse for almost seven decades? As such, on the
eve of our third prime minister in as many years, it might be - if not a source
of some parable wisdom - at least of intellectual interest to consider some
historical anecdotes; to compare symbolism and consequence. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">John Adams wrote
that he lived in a nation ruled by laws, not men. An odd specificity in the turn
of phrase to recall on this particular Saturday morning; indoors as I have been
for a year-and-a-half, waiting to see our future PM9 embark to the Palace to
attend the summons of HM the Yang di-Pertuan Agong. If Sabri is obliged to
accede to Mahiaddin’s conditions for parliamentary support, the possible
permutations for the former’s new Cabinet will be much like vaccine supply
earlier this year - limited. I await with uncontrollable ambivalence the return
of many Ministers who less than a week ago plastered their social media
accounts with starry-eyed goodbyes, like the cliffhanger season finale of a
trite American sitcom. Don’t worry – just like on Netflix, you too can begin to
binge Season 2 almost immediately! <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">I wonder if His
Majesty has ever had that odd feeling of coming into a room and finding
everything <i>almost</i> like it was, but moved around slightly. While our laws
are in eternal flux: MITI will decide who gets to go to work (except when they
don’t), emergency ordinances are revoked (until they weren’t), and house visits
are banned and facemasks compulsory (unless you are an Hon. MP or a Rt. Hon
Minister); the men are never-changing – eternal, constant, and ageless (bar
some wrinkles and questionable facial hair choices). I say this without a hint
of irony: Daulat Tuanku - I would not want to shoulder Your Majesty’s burden of
having to keep a straight face whilst meeting the
lazy-Susan-at-a-bad-Chinese-restaurant of Cabinets; always the same
disappointing dishes, constantly just going round and round. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">In ancient Rome,
when a great general returned from a successful conquest, he would be awarded a
Triumph. He would be dressed all in purple, which signified that he was
almost-a-king, a demigod. He would parade through the streets of Rome with his blood-tested
soldiers and battle-hardened generals, and he would walk into the Temple of
Jupiter and make sacrifices in celebration of his victory. It is certainly
coincidental that this is the image that comes to mind as I imagine the
cavalcade of tinted black Alphards and Abang Polis on motorcycles – their big
blue lights flashing; hands pushing traffic aside just as Moses/Nabi Musa AS
parted the Red Sea. Our political generals have without a doubt been fighting a
battle – we will discretely put aside the question of how much blood has been
spilled. A barrage of camera flashes: the adulation of Rome, even if the people
have to cheer from a safe distance – that’s definitely why we cannot hear them.
A lowered window, a pair of sleepy eyes and a black <i>songkok</i>, perhaps a
cheeky wave or thumbs-up.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">Throughout his
Triumph, the General would have a trusted servant stand behind him and whisper
constantly: ‘<i>Memento mori’</i> – ‘Remember that you too will die’. A
reminder of mortality, of the fleeting nature of earthly glory, of the great
responsibility that power bestows and the limited time you have to effect
change. We as a nation have heard DG Hisham’s daily ticking reminder of cases
and deaths in this country – a pulsing heartbeat of information screaming into
our collective psyches for 18 months, reminding us constantly to <i>memento
mori</i>. Reminding our leaders, hopefully, of the more than 13 thousand souls
that have left us; some – many? – of whom may have had a different destiny had
different decisions been made by those in power. I wonder if Caesar would have
been granted a triumph had he managed to lose 3 legions’ worth of soldiers to
the pox through poorly communicated and flip-flop SOPs – especially after a war
where he had lost almost no soldiers in the first six months. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">After a Triumph,
great feasts and games were held for the citizenry. In Rome these would be paid
for by the conquering general from the treasure and bounty he had claimed in
war. The markets of Rome would flood with new exotic goods, and many citizens
would be given a share of the prizes. All of Rome shared in the wealth of the
general, and so all of Rome celebrated with him. But Malaysians do not have
barbarian Gauls to the North to conquer, or savage Parthians to the East to
raid and plunder. I doubt the Singaporeans would be interested in trying to
restart that train project if we started amassing troops on the Causeway to try
and conduct our own miniature <i>Reconquista </i>of lost Temasek. We pay for
all our bread and circuses ourselves; either today through tax, or tomorrow
through today’s borrowing. But this is hardly a relevant consideration for our
political class: it has been alleged in court that taxation is a custom more
honoured in the breach than the observance; and the ceaseless march of time’s arrow
means that most of these men (and they have always, invariably, been men) will
be dead long before the impact of their unsustainable borrowing is felt. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">In 1334/6 Gajah
Mada, <i>Mahapatih </i>(analogous to a Prime Minister) of the Majapahit Empire
swore the <i>Sumpah Palapa</i> that he would not taste any spice or seasoning
in his food until he had united all of Nusantara. Whether he meant this
literally or symbolically, the promise was still a massive one – uniting lands
from modern-day Pahang to the Maluku Islands west of Papua New Guinea. He knew
that he could not push the people that inhabited the Empire to endure the
hardship of a gargantuan effort like the conquest of most of maritime
South-East Asia if he did not share in their burdens. His people would never
fight for him, unite under him, if he asked much of them without giving
anything in return. Malaysians have been asked to endure much – to endure drops
in real income, disappearing savings, job losses, deaths, and the mental and
emotional anguish of enforced isolation. It is bitterly amusing to wonder if
our Ministers might have thought to swear a <i>Sumpah Durian</i> at the very
least – to swear off (allegedly) illegally gathering without social distancing
or PPE to engage in a bacchanal of the creamy rich flesh of ripe durian whilst
thousands of their countrymen die in hospital unable to taste, or breathe, or hold
their loved ones for a final time. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">But I suppose
it’s too late for that now. As we wait for the Triumph to reach the Palace –
without a loyal <i>memento mori</i> servant in sight – it feels too late for a
great number of things. If only we were a country governed by laws, not by men.
Or at the very least, given that Powers Beyond The Understanding Of Mere
Mortals Such As Us have decided that the men are never to change – despite
posting support for the Taliban, and supporting racial boycotts, and telling 49.2%
of the population that they are <i>pendatang</i> – if only those men acted like
they were themselves governed by laws, and not the whims of their political destiny.</p><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0