....... outbursts from celebrities such as the lady below only tend to generate more heat than light in the present political climate in this toxic nation.
Image 1
There's no business like show business! But there is a pepatah Melayu which cautions Malays (and Others) that "Kerana pulut, santan binasa, kerana mulut ........" especially when referring to bangsa, and bahasa; to apportioning such derisions as "buat malu", "a lot of uncivilised people", "purely disgusting" to a particular community.
There is no doubt that their expression of frustration and anger is no different from this .... of Bersih 5 and all the other Bersih Campaigns .....
Image 2 - "Please step to prove that we are Malaysians hate #MO1 (Prime Minister Najib Abdul Razak)"...... although I must admit they have softened the "purely disgusting" act by using "Please ".... aaahh! .. that's sweet, not so "uncivilised". (Taken from Malaysiakini.com/bersih5)
....... or this ...
Image 3 - Taken from Lim Sian See's Blog
Perhaps it will be fitting to apply this window from our Celebrity's eruption to the second and third images albeit with a few adjustments.
A Pepatah Inggeris has this to say: "Sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander".
We can manufacture and use all sorts of excuses and rationales to justify our anger and disgust (apologies for using that word again).
Here are several reasons why those biadap and 'uncivilised' Melayu did what they did yesterday.
Ash will spare you the lecture. Pictures are worth a thousand words.
1. History of Bahasa Melayu as Bahasa Kebangsaan'
2. A celebration of Bahasa Kebangsaan by Malaysians in Kedah.
3. From the very early days of Imperialism and the arrival of the Immigrants, Malay was the lingua franca - it was put to use in communicating vested interests - so that business and profit can be expedited. Even the Mat Salleh had to resort to Bahasa Melayu and in Jawi too!
4. When the new principal legal adviser to the Government, to the Yang di-Pertuan Agong and to the Cabinet - chosen by the PM of Malaysia Baru - decided to speak in English during yesterday's Press Conference, is it any surprise that 'patriotic' orang Melayu would take umbrage and tell him to do a proper job - in the National Language. He cannot describe their reaction as 'uncivilised'. Any other red-blooded non-Malay (and also some Malay) Malaysian, who regard themselves as Anak/Bangsa Malaysia should feel the same about their Bahasa Kebangsaan.
If a top ranking legal officer in India for instance prefers to speak in English he would be hauled over the coals. In India the use of English for official purpose ceased 15 years after Independence in 1947. 'Tommy' (how The Star affectionately refers to him) , as an "anak Malaysia" has had nearly 60 years to maintain his fluency in his Bahasa Kebangsaan. And when he was interviewed about his appointment, he commented :
" We are planning to reform 60 years of laws.... " ?????? which or what laws? Is that a promise or a threat from the Alliance of Hope?
5. Still, he admits he has to brush up his Bahasa Kebangsaan. Isn't it time he shows his commitment to his job requirement (in using the National Language) just as he is convinced that prayers and God elevated him to the rank of Malaysia's Peguam Negara.
I suppose BN hit the dust because they did not pray hard enough and their God abandoned them!! Then, which religion and which God fostered the victory of the Alliance of Hope. Dear God, what a burden we place upon you. Was it really you or the Politically Omnipotent Men with their Grand Design of Resurrection?
Finally, back to Darshan Singh:
Terima Kasih! And a big thank you to P.Ramlee - the Eminent Person we never had!
Baba Huang asks Malaysian Chinese "Allow me to love all of you, alright?"
"As the Chinese Ambassador to Malaysia, I will continue to play the role as a friend of Chinese education."
So His Excellency sees himself as the "minder" of Chinese education in Malaysia. But China's commitment to Chinese education in the Malay Peninsula goes a long way back - to 1922 - and maybe even earlier. That ambition had cast a long shadow over Malaysia's past, present and future
The beginning of the Brave New Middle Kingdom - the "future masters of the Malay Peninsula."
The Ambassador also assured Malaysian Chinese of their 'family ties'.
The strong ties of the TONG PAO - of the same womb
For more heartwarming details of this special relationship, do look up .......
If only, oh if only the Malays - the Malaikwai (Malay devil) - could find protection and succour in the arms of "an economic superpower" like our fellow Chinese citizens. If only we had the formula to enable us to put our bums on two stools.
For as long as this septuagenarian can remember, three words were never to be used to describe Indians in Singapore and Malaysia. They are Keling and Pariah and P*****. Such utterances would - in my mother's eyes - deserve a red hot chili rubbed hard against the lips.
From the Internet: pariah is a social outcast, a member of a low caste in South India.
"1610s, from Portuguese paria or directly from Tamil paraiyar, plural of paraiyan "drummer" (at festivals, the hereditary duty of members of the largest of the lower castes of southern India), from parai "large festival drum." Especially numerous at Madras, where its members supplied most of the domestics in European service" [OED]. Applied by Hindus and Europeans to any members of low Hindu castes and even to outcastes.
Last year Tun M declared my bangsa as "shameless". In 2015 he called my "tanah tumpah darah ku" a pariah state.
Malaysian Chinese can take refuge in Baba Huang's Middle Kingdom. Indians can return to the Indian sub-continent.
Malays can only putih tulang and putih mata. ************* Nana, nana. Lekas pulang. Aci takut tinggal sa orang Belakang rumah ada jembalang. Mata sepit, hidung-nya belang.
I was young, I was naive. I had unbounded self-confidence (or arrogance?), thinking that I knew just what my country needed and how! With gusto and hauteur, my fellow undergraduates and I in 1966 marched in protest at the Singapore University Campus against the Suitability Certificate (a condition for admittance into University) and the right for Academic Freedom and Autonomy.
AsH the Samseng 'freedom fighter' - 4th from left. (Note the scooters on the right.) One of the placards carried this indignant message : Politics NO! Integrity YES. Some of the leaders and participants on that march - when they graduated and moved into the real world - took no part in either politics or integrity!!
Out of that single Campus protest I recall one of the most radical and vociferous voices against the system, who became a member of a political club - no, not the Democratic Socialist Club (a sort of wishy-washy pal of the PAP) but the more radical Socialist Club. After we all graduated in 1967, this hard-core 'leftie' (by Singapore standards) got himself a plum job in the Ministry of Culture, Singapore. It's all about the fox in the hen-house! Or the proverbial 'heart on the left and pocket on the right' !!
So you see, protests of the young and not-so-young against the system are nothing new. Although it's quite impossible to see this scenario in Singapore nowadays (no wonder several of our politicians and social commentators are dead keen on emulating Singapore) protest movements in Malaysia are almost like an annual festival, in all shades of colour, gaiety and agenda.
Another fascinating feature of these Malaysian "Springs" is the network created, extending over national and international landscapes -and even occurring in one of the world's youngest states, Timor Leste. This, of course, is partly because (compared with the dinosaur-technology of the 1960s) communications today are much more advanced, with the internet and the social media making connections more pervasive and widespread. But I often wonder why this 'spring' has not sprung in Malaysia's own backyard in the rural and poorer parts of the nation. Could it be they don't have mobile telephones? Of course they do. So could it be other things are more important??
Then there's the matter of leadership, and who it is that inspires. Well, every cause and protest movement must have a leader - a charismatic and articulate leader who can wield the arm of unity of belief and purpose. And such a leader there is, according to a reliable source: one who crossed the globe to make a "special guest appearance in London to meet Malaysians ..... kindly agreed to give a talk this Sunday 23rd August in Central London." And who then "flies home to take part in the main KL march but she will be with us in spirit." The leadership's clarion calling sounds almost messianic.
But let's not forget that there can be other external guiding leaders and mentors like the Oslo Freedom Forum, organised by Thor Halvorssen Mendoza's Human Rights Foundation (HRF).
George Bernard Shaw had this to say about Age: Youth, which is forgiven everything, forgives itself nothing: age which forgives itself anything, is forgiven nothing.
I do envy the young Malaysians who, on the 29th and 30th August (with non-Malaysian support) had the means, the reasons and the opportunities to go into the streets of London, especially at Belgrave Square, to demand the resignation of the Prime Minister of Malaysia.
In 1975, at the London University School of Education (Malet Street), I was sitting in a classroom with my other classmates waiting for the lecturer to turn up. Then a couple of students stopped at the door, calling us to join them in a demonstration downstairs. One of them gave me an intense look as if to say "what about you?". I had to respond, " Sorry, I'm here at my own expense. I intend to get the education I paid for." Some of my classmates shook their heads to indicate 'no', the others simply ignored them.
You see, I couldn't afford to expend my energy and time supporting "good causes". I was living week to week on my meagre allowance. By the weekend, I would have just enough milk and bread to see me through till Monday when I began my next allowance. For 'entertainment', my good friend Loo Lee and I would pack a meal of sandwiches and milk and go for lovely, long walks in the various beautiful parks in London or venture to the free British Museum and National Gallery. For transport we had our monthly season ticket on the Underground.
Furthermore, my father did not have the benefit of a pension or an accumulation of property and financial reserve to subsidize my one year at London University. In fact, my parents were dependent on my siblings' and my financial support. For this post-graduate course I was supporting myself on my savings and my six-months half-pay. I had my budget finely tuned so that it would last right through the Examination and I could then seamlessly get back to teaching when I had the additional piece of paper. I toyed with the idea of spending another year at the School of Education to get to the Masters-of-Education - I reckoned I could get by for the extra year with part-time jobs. (I already had an evening job clearing tables at the ULU Refectory). But three months into my course, on 21 December 1974, my father passed away and I knew I had to go home and stop at the Academic Diploma. The Masters degree had to wait - for another 10 years.
PART THREE: Growing old ... and angry
Jai came along with us for this demonstration against the war in Bosnia in 1995. The brown bag contained our drinks and food for lunch and pre-dinner comestibles.
Since the mid-1980s, the spouse and I have been to umpteen protest marches in England. It involved travelling nearly 100 miles from Leicester to London and another 100 miles to get back home. Sometimes we took the National Express coach, or we drove and parked the car at Golders Green. At other times we travelled with the local Anti-War or Support for Gaza coaches.
We also attended several marches in support of the two Intifadas - in 1987 and 2000. This was where I saw what grief for your homeland can look like ; a grief that is quiet, enduring and painful. There was no music, no dancing, no enthusiastic sounds from drums and horns that usually accompany a demonstration. There were mums and dads pushing their little ones in buggies. But the most poignant and heart-rending was this Palestinian family. The father had his 5 year old daughter on his shoulders and the mother held the hand of their 8 year old son and they walked and chanted in a tone only audible to anyone immediately next to them, "Palesteen .... Palesteen ....Palesteen". (The Palestinians do not pronounce the last syllable as tyne.)
At the turn of the 21st century there were two huge demonstrations against the War on Iraq. My sister and brother-in-law, Mak Haji Maznah (60) and Pak Haji Harun (67), - two retired cikgus from Batu Pahat -joined us for the 400,000 anti-war demonstration on September 28, 2002. That was a day they will never forget.
We were on our own for the largest ever protest march - over 1 million - on 15 Feb 2003. We were all expressing our worry and concern over a second attack on Iraq (following the First Iraq War of 1990-1991). This anti-war protest took place all over the world. Of course, thanks to the arms manufacturers, the oil-thirsty industrialists, Israel, the Islamophobes, the power-mad leaders like Blair and Bush (AND with the tacit and not-so-tacit agreement of the Arab states) Iraq was shredded to pieces. But this was just part of the bloody dismemberment of the Muslim world (from Iraq, Libya, Yemen, and Syria, to Palestine, Somalia and Afghanistan) led by the world's two most powerful Judaeo Christian nations.
The Anti-War Protest of 15 February 2003.
Such is the strength of "people power" that one month later - after and despite this huge demonstration against the War - on 19 March 2003, Bush invaded Iraq.
The protest against this war was expressed not only by Muslims (well, some Muslim nations) but across every colour, creed, religion and nationality.
Then in November (18-21) 2003, Bush made a formal visit to Great Britain. He was granted a Royal audience. The establishment knew of a looming anti-Bush and anti-war demonstration and decided to keep Bush's route a secret so that the American President would not be embarrassed by those tens of thousands of the British populace lining his route and calling him a war criminal and shouting at him to go home.
November 2003 - the spouse holding our very own home-made and home-designed placard. It was inspired by that very popular 1960s song, "Yellow Rose of Texas".
By then , of course, the British public were weary, disheartened and disillusioned. The main issue of the war against the Muslim world was less popular - although people did at least maintain a sense of loyalty to their "boys" who were fighting in a war that they did not want or believe in. (Which made me wonder: would most Malaysians feel and act the same way in supporting our "boys"? The history of the Communist Insurgency from 1948 to 1960, at least, suggests not.
After 2003, in Leicester and London,we attended several other activities in support of Palestine and Gaza. We got no buzz and no kick from such demonstrations. In fact, if anything, we went with a sense of gathering despondency at the way so many hundreds of millions of people were being made to suffer..
And I would always remind myself of a basic truth: as a Singaporean and later a Malaysian, I had been so very fortunate in never having to suffer or fear mayhem and bloodshed because my country had been attacked and occupied by the Big Boys of the world.
..... ..... ..... .....
For one who's a loner and a maverick, I don't expect overt support for my unconventional and bolshie viewpoints. But I do try to remember the victims. Of all kinds. I hold very dear this memory from 1978 when I was sent to teach at Anglo-Chinese Junior College, Singapore's most pukka missionary Sixth Form College.
Of course, the world is much wider than this. In the end, I can only hope that our (and so many others) presence at all those street protests will transmit to the voiceless, neglected, unrepresented victims our empathy for their sufferings. And the knowledge that they are not alone - albeit it's just cold comfort.
The news cries out for more empathy. Take the plight of refugees risking their lives to escape war and violence in their now-demolished homelands. The sound of (near) silence is almost deafening.
Reading, 'Riting and 'Rithmetic - they make up the basic three " Rs " which form the foundation of modern education. That was the makeup of my English language colonial education in the 1950s as well as the beginning of my training as a school teacher during the latter half of the 1960s.
Just the other day, the spouse and I were ruminating about the approaching demise of one signifier of our self as an individual : writing - our handwriting!
This one .............
...... belongs to her.
This quaint handwriting ........
.... was done by this quaint little nerd.
Oh dear, I am noticing signs of rebellion.
==============
Nowadays we appreciate and take pride in all things that are hand made and we are willing to dig deep into our pockets for items made by human hands!
But more and more we are losing the one art that can be created only by us - our handwriting. Just think, there are millions of us (those who were lucky enough to go to school) able to scribble and identify themselves by their handwriting - each one distinct and unique, just like our fingerprints.
However, we now take to the keyboard and indicate ourselves less and less by our handwriting ( and signature) - but by passwords, codes and pin numbers. Welcome to the digitised world!
We don't write letters anymore. We do not keep envelopes in the house and neither do we buy stamps. We only send e-mails!
Part of my primary school education included subjects like "Writing" and that was included as an examination subject.
A 'Writing' Examination - 1957, PPES.
'Letter Writing' was always part of the English Language Examination.
'Letter Writing' for a Primary Six examination, 1957, PPES
A few days ago, I received a comment - a very touching note - from Kalsom Taib - from my cohort group, so to speak.
Kalsom, I hope the above images will bring a big smile to your face - and to remind you of our good (and at that time it seemed horrible), old days.
So, I thought I'd like to sit down and write you a letter - to overlay an electronic page with a letter written with a fountain pen - to thank you for the content and kindness in your message.
We, Kalsom and I, are blessed to be able to observe and live the present life we have. Materially and technically we have gained so much. But the price we pay is too awful - at times - to bear.
Here's my 'Dictation' Examination - ideas still as valid - if not even more today - as 58 years ago.
The greatest honour is the honour which men give to you in their hearts.
A song we heard on the radio in our kampung house in 1954/1955.
For the Senior Cambridge Examination, Mrs Quah, - my very inspiring literature teacher - instructed us to learn by heart, and to quote, various passages from Shakespeare's 'Hamlet'. Here are the first four lines of one of them:
To be, or not to be, that is the question - Whether 'tis Nobler in the mind to suffer The Slings and Arrows of outrageous Fortune, Or to take Arms against a Sea of troubles,
According to Wiki, the American-Muslim human rights activist Malcolm X or Malik El-Shabazz (1925-1965) quoted the above lines at a debate in Oxford (1963) about "extremism in defence of liberty".
Growing up in a Malay kampung in Singapore throughout the 1950s, 1960s and 1970s, we had a father who was worldly wise and street savvy about the world around him (and us). He was fluent and knowledgeable in both his Malayness and the wider English language milieu that was present then in Singapore and in Malaya. You would not describe him as "alim" or "warak". His familiarity with the Arabic language was limited to the ability to read the Quran. He had a Quran which also provided a Malay translation and when he was teaching us about 'Rukun Islam' and prayers he always wrote down the translation in English as well. He wanted us to know the meaning and the spirit of what we were reciting and doing.
I think Akim and I were the most bolshie with our queries and I reckon we gave him a bit of a headache. When Akim was in his early 20s ( I was then 25), I overheard him asking Abah:
"Abah, prove to me there's God." Wow!! I skedaddled away because this was really strong stuff coming from my very quiet and serious kid brother and I thought I'd better make myself scarce. I regretted I did not hang around to hear my father's QED. (QED is something you write when you have proven a theorem in Geometry). It must have worked because Akim kept his faith and I could see more strength and acceptance in him especially whenever he suffered his very frequent asthma attacks.
When I was teaching in Sekolah Menengah Yusof Ishak I found myself slowly but surely losing my patience with my Malay-Muslim colleagues (to be expected) and even my students. When one of them complained to me that it was not 'halal' to buy hot drinks from the Chinese stall in the school canteen and that it was not 'right' to sit next to some one eating Chinese food, I took a deep breath and said, "Duit-duit yang kamu pegang tu, tahu kah kamu jika apek jual babi yang telah memegang-nya terlebih dahulu? Dengan cikgu, cuba bincangkan lain perkara bersabit dengan cara membaiki latihan ilmu alam, ilmu hisab, mengaturkan jadual kerja sekolah sambil menolong emak di-rumah, dan bagaimana berjimat cermat dalam perbelanjaan di-sekolah. Cikgu perhatikan bagaimana murid-murid Cina tidak kesahkan apa jenis kasut dan beg sekolah yang mereka gunakan, jelas pilihan mereka lebih murah dari pilihan murid Melayu!! Satu lagi perkara, berbanding dengan murid-murid Melayu, Cikgu jarang kali melihat murid-murid Cina merambu di tepi jalan selepas sekolah."
I saw a sea of mixed reactions: sheepish, resentful and approving. AsH always seems to have this effect on people!!
In the midst of such an environment at work, I had to ask my Abah what's wrong with these Malays and Muslims? Haven't they absorbed anything positive from their culture and their ugama? He said, "There is nothing negative about our culture and ugama. It all depends on the interpretation - on what we choose to select. It's human nature to choose the easiest path and that choice is often based on irresponsibility. Your choices can lead to good or bad and we are capable of both. But remember in all your doings and thoughts you are only accountable to the One, to God. There is no go-between, there is no excommunication in Islam - there's only you and God."
That advice abides with me from then till today and it has put me in good stead, guiding me through all my ups and downs
As Malays and Muslims - though today the latter takes precedence - we are made aware of the various taboos, of the 'halal' and 'haram', of the 'dosa' and 'pahala', from an early age. These dichotomies seemed rational enough for us when we were growing up. But today, I see my world being circumscribed and digitized by so many sets and sub-sets and binary applications of these rules that I might as well be living in a fishbowl instead of God's glorious and multi-faceted world.
As a consequence of these 'revelations' and rulings I begin to wonder if some aspects of my life would be deemed today as 'unacceptable' - according to the interpretations of our clerics.
***************
I have entered a Church, not once, but several times. I have attended a Christmas Mass at Durham Cathedral with the spouse's Aunt Peggy in 1987.
When I was just 15, Mrs Darke. my Guide Captain came to our kampung house to ask my father's permission for me to attend a Thinking Day Service at St Andrew's Cathedral in Singapore. Of course my father gave the green light - he did not have to sit me down to caution me about what I should or should not do while I was in the Cathedral. He had faith in me and in the strength of my faith. And Mrs Darke had no ulterior evangelistic motive!
*****************************
When our dear neighbour Eva passed away in 2003, Iain and I, and our neighbours Celia and Philip accompanied her in the funeral limousine as we were the only 'family' she had. For nearly twenty years, Eva was like a mother to me - wise, sweet, and understanding. Iain wrote the obituary for the Vicar to read during the funeral service in Church. We chose a song she often played on her piano - we could hear her doing so because we were at No 10 and Eva was just next door at No 11. And when "The Ash Grove" was played by the Church Organ my heart got stuck in my throat and the tears could not be held back.
***************************
Peggy, the spouse's Aunt, was a regular churchgoer at St Anne's, Bishop Auckland. She respected and loved animals enormously. Once, she got fed up with the wife of the Bishop of Durham for shooting the magpies in the grounds of Bishop Auckland Castle. So, very early one morning, she retrieved one of the magpies that had been shot by the lady of the house - and pinned it on the front door of the Bishop's Castle!
Peggy, like the other Wicks sisters, had an indomitable spirit, creative and a strong sense of civic-mindedness and fair play. At the height of the Salman Rushdie affair, she expressed to me that no one has the right to insult another religion in the name of freedom of speech. Peggy did not have an easy life, she had no opportunity to travel far away from home but she was always fascinated about different worlds and different cultures. So whenever we visited her, about 4-5 times a year, I made sure I cooked a Malay dinner, while Peggy cooked an English dessert, I also made sure I left her a bottle-full of fried ikan bilis beforewe went home to Leicester She could never get enough of it! When she passed away in 2005, the Vicar had chosen her favourite hymn, "All things bright and beautiful, the Lord God made them all". And I joined in that hymn to celebrate the life and times of a loving and lovely lady.
*************************************
When I settled down in Leicester around 1985, Dorothy and Frank Moule became our dearest friends. Frank was a painter-decorator who left school at 14 and who, through sheer hard work and determination, went to University as a mature student when he was in his mid-40s, determined to be a teacher. In his first year, Iain was his lecturer/tutor and Frank - who was ten years older than Iain - was his favourite student. During my first winter in Leicester, Frank and Dot bought me an electric blanket so that 'the little tropical flower' would not suffer too much in the cold. Frank went on to take his Masters, and even wrote an autobiography about his life as a painter and decorator, a union man, and a university student: I gave him his title - "Sitting on a Paint Tin".
We attended the service for Frank's funeral at the Unitarian Church in 2002. It was a non-denominational Church and Iain wrote and read his celebration of the life of a good friend, an honourable man and a noble soul. I asked Iain to add this, from and of Hamlet at the end of his reading; "Good-night sweet prince; And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest."
I sobbed my heart out for Frank and Dot and his three kids. To the right of me, sitting by herself in the pew was another lady distraught with sorrow - it was Frank's estranged, older sister.
*********************************
So there we are. That's my admittance of the number of times I have attended Church. It has not tainted my faith or diluted my commitment to Islam. As for uttering Merry Christmas and enjoying Christmas trees, I have done that enough times, I think, to ensure me a place in hell - according to the instructions of Malaysia's clerics.
But I held firm to my Abah's words - " in whatever you do, you are accountable only to God".
*****************
Here is Frank's choice of the song (his personal hymn) to be played at his funeral service.
What profits now to understand The merits of a spotless shirt - A dapper boot - a little hand - If half the little soul is dirt? (Tennyson 1809 - 1892)
First, a small preamble.....
USA, Great Britain, Singapore and Malaysia all claim to be countries run on the principles of democracy. To quote that very over-simplistic saying of Abraham Lincoln, democracy is "Government of the people, by the people, for the people".
A democracy is not ruled by a king or queen , a hereditary aristocracy, a few selected persons, religious elites or any other unelected power group.
USA is a democracy where the President can only get elected to power when he has powerful financial backers to see him through to the White House. But he who pays the piper plays the tune.
Great Britain on the other hand is regarded as the Mother of Parliaments - whose system of parliamentary democracy is inherited by all or most members of her previous empire - of which Malaysia and Singapore are just two. But the ruling class - the politicians and the ministers - are saturated by privately educated, well-heeled Oxbridge graduates. Not only that :
From Mail Online 28 August 2014
Democracy does not stop the domination of government, business, policing and the legal system, and education in the hands of a particular elite.
Quite interesting is this, the Labour Party (now in the Opposition) started as a party representing the working class and supported by the Trade Unions. But ever since Tony Blair took over in 1997 and created New Labour - "red" Labour became more and more like "blue" Conservative - a party of big business and the wealthy.
And just recently it came to light that Labour, which is haemorrhaging from lack of funds has suffered another financial blow. Because of Labour's anti-Israel stance over Gaza and Palestine her Jewish supporters and financial donors are leaving in droves. Here's a piper who will be losing his tune-maker.
In the case of Singapore there are all the trappings of a democracy but it's a form of democracy made-in-Singapore-for-Singapore only. To replace the old guard - the leaders who were at the birth of the Republic of Singapore wef 1963 - Singapore designed a very Singaporean version of anointing new, younger leaders. This second echelon leadership was appointed and co-opted from the elites in the professions, the Civil Service and the business sectors. They joined the PAP only when they were nominated for a Parliamentary seat.
... Now The Nub of the Matter
All that preamble was for the purpose of expanding on this article I read in Utusan Malaysia a few days ago. There was this young man ......
...... Dr Mohammad Nawar Ariffin, an UMNO delegate from Kedah who urged that Umno needs an injection of quality to revitalise the party's status and strength. These words emanate from the son of unschooled and poor padi farmers - who was given the chance by the government (led by UMNO) to progress from poverty to becoming a paediatrician. He expressed his gratitude for the endeavours of UMNO to help its poor members (like his parents' family) to better themselves.
It must be nice for the old guard in UMNO to listen to this voice of appreciation. But they must take more seriously Dr Mohammad Nawar's advice (warning?) that "antara kriteria kualiti yang UMNO perlukan adalah integriti, bekerja dengan teliti, bekerja untuk capai tahap prestasi tinggi, hubungan dua hala antara pemimpin dan ahli serta kerja ikhlas dari hati".
There are three key words, integriti, teliti and ikhlas - very crucial requirements for future UMNO leaders and followers who are truly budiman.
UMNO must listen to such young voices (and many others like him) and give them space and opportunity to contribute to the well-being of the nation and the Malays.
UMNO must choose its future leaders from the likes of Dr Mohammad Nawar Ariffin - young Malays with dedication and ability - and not merely rely on hereditary appointments and old-boy UMNO network.
In the past few months, news coming from Malaysia has got me sick up to the eyeballs. Evangelist Brazilian football, the pathetic circus over "I Want to Touch a Dog", and revelations about stains on carpets and of body fluids during the Sodomy Trial are enough to make you weep. And as for the recent brouhaha over the bangang and the stupid - well, they will always be with the Malays, where ever and who ever they are.
Thank goodness, I have discovered a piece of hopeful news in Dr Mohammad Nawar Ariffin - not simply because he's an UMNO man. It's because this old lady can see in him a glimmer of my father's 'fire in the belly' when he organised an UMNO meeting in Kampung Abu Kassim in Singapore in 1952
Abah is seated 8th from left.
.
I hope Dr Mohammad Nawar will carry on the torch of the early founders and leaders of UMNO and that the dinosaurs and fat cats and opportunists and cronies in today's UMNO will realise that the survival of the party and the Malays depends on young blood like the delegate from Kedah.
1. 1972/1973. While going through my 'junk' in Leicester a few weeks ago, I found this poem in Sekolah Menengah Yusof Ishak's School Magazine.
As they say: from the mouth of babes (well, from a 14/15 year old) - you read an expression of such despair from over 40 years ago! "Puas di asoh dan di didek, Dengan tenaga yang tiada bersukat, Tapi tiada datang budi, Dengan pimpinan yang dulu2 itu. Begini-lah hidup, Lantaran tak punya asohan budi. "
Dr Mahathir's despondency over the Malays as 'knowing no shame' - ( Read : https://my.news.yahoo.com/dr-m-look-east-policy-faltered-malays-still-095400553.html ) has more to do with the near collapse of the old Malay values of Budi. As 14/15 year old Norziah had concluded - the Malays " tak punya asohan budi". Asohan Ugama has jumped by leaps and bounds since Norziah's teenage years. Pilgrimages for Haj and Umrah proliferate. Levels (though not necessarily standards) of education are claimed to be (nearly) world-class. Universities and number of academics and PhDs have mushroomed. But in the mad rush for more and more manna on earth and a place in heaven after earth, the Malays - unlike the Japanese - have not been true to their forefathers' and foremothers' wisdom and prescience.
My unschooled ( both religious and secular) mother brought us up on sayings from pantun pantun Melayu.
At Kampung Chantek 1948, (from left to right), Maznoor, Mak, Mustapha and Maznah. Mustakim was to arrive later in 1949
Pisang emas bawa belayar, Masak sa-biji di-atas peti; Hutang emas boleh di-bayar, Hutang budi di-bawa mati.
Pulau Pandan jauh ke-tengah, Gunong Daik berchabang tiga; Hanchor badan di-kandong tanah, Budi yang baik di-kenang juga. Bunga melati bunga di-darat, Bunga seroja di-tepi kali; Hina besi kerana karat, Hina manusia tidak berbudi.
While we live to offer budi, we have to accept that:
Puas aku bertanam padi, Beras maseh datang seberang; Puas aku berbuat budi, Emas juga di-pandang orang.
But this stricture was drummed into us from childhood to adulthood. Buat baik berpada-pada. Buat jahat jangan sekali.
Anyway, the absence of shame is not the monopoly of Malays. All other racial groups in Malaysia (or anyone one else in the world for that matter) are guilty of that - it all depends on how the nature of the 'shame' is displayed or disguised.
Furthermore these miscreants are located not only among the dregs of Malaysian society (like the Mat Rempit and petty thieves); they also thrive among the upper and middle echelons of the Civil Service, the educated professionals, the business tycoons and taukehs, the directors of multi-national companies, the politicians and political leaders and even among the religious bureaucracy.
And just look at the shenanigans going on in the land of the Mother of Parliament, in Britain.
2. 1961. In 1961, at Crescent Girls' School, a group of Malay-medium students had to 'park' at our school because there weren't any Malay Secondary School in Singapore then.
And this was one of their contributions ......
...... to the School Magazine.
My take on all these? Wither the Malays. Whither the Malays?
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Here are some other aspects of Malay 'ways and purpose' as related to budi. There have been studies and dissertations written on Budi in Malay culture. For instance ....
Abstract of "Budi as the Malay Mind" by Lim Kin Hai 2003
The following aspects of 'Budi' are from my collection of dictionaries that hark back to the 1960s.
1. From
1957
2.
1963 - 5th Edition
3.
1976
4.
1966
What is missing among present-day Malays is " bangsa Melayu yang budiman".
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Let me conclude with a personal touch.
Pisang nangka di-masak pengat, Kait2 banyak duri-nya; Macham mana saya ta'ingat, Orang baik dengan budi-nya.
When in September 1982 my youngest brother Akim, passed away, this 'manusia baik budi' from Leicester was doing his fieldwork in a remote Adivasi village near Kashele, India. He walked one mile to get the bus for an hour-long trip to the small town of Karjat. This was followed by a two-hour train journey from Karjat to Bombay and from here he flew to Singapore to comfort my mother. (Even today, he is petrified of plane travel.) After a day or so, he took another plane journey to Bandar Seri Begawan where I was working.
His was a comforting shoulder to cry on.
The Dynamic Duo - many, many, years later - December 2013.
I taped this song "Serunai Malam" by the Sumatran singer Hasnah Tahar (orkest Saiful Bahri) in 1983 from this album.
I treasured the cassette tape and in winter 2013 I sat down to load all of these songs from tape to cassette player and onto my own clumsy video. In this way, I can keep on listening to them without causing wear and tear on the tapes and the Irama vinyl album.
These lines from "Serunai Malam' sum up the relevance and significance of Budi for this Malay.
Dari mana datang rasa kasih sayang, Dari mata ke hati lalu di kenang. Kerana budi menjadi tunangan, sayang, Sumpah setia disaksikan bintang. Bercerai mati batas nya di dunia, sayang. Di akhirat kita berjumpa pula.
NOTE: All the pantun are taken from Kalong Bunga, Buku 1 - oleh Za'ba , 1964.
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