Class struggle: On midgets who want to be Tuan

 

Back in Penang years ago, I invited my department staff for lunch at my home, which was quite close to the office. The crazy Penang traffic was on the other side of the island, plus my mom was such a great cook.

One of my staff was a young American who came from headquarters for some international exposure. He’s one of those who gets excited with new experiences and loves to soak up local cultures.

We Malaysians are well known for our hospitality. We invite foreigners to our home at the drop of a hat, and shower them with kindness like they’re long-lost relatives. We don’t do it for our fellow Malaysians though, especially if they’re of a different race and religion.

My mom, as always, was very pleased and excited to have visitors. She fussed over everybody like they were her own children. At one point though she came to me and asked, regarding the young American, “Did Tuan (Master) like the food?”

Actually, I was the big boss of the group. The young American was a few levels below me. If anybody was a Tuan there, it was me. I was also the Tuan Rumah – host – and by right my mom should have called me Tuan-Tuan.

My mother was an illiterate kampung woman. She had spent most of her life looking up to white folks as Tuans, the way much of the pre-independence colonial society around her did. She wanted to show proper deference to somebody she deemed superior.

Her unquestioning respect for such figures also extended to anyone with big titles and “breeding”. Hers was the typical feudal mindset of knowing your station in life, and accepting it. That was a pretty common thing then.

Leaders with class

I recently saw a video of the personalities who fought for Malaysia’s independence. Two things struck me.

One was Lee Kuan Yew – he spoke brilliant Malay, a far cry from some of today’s elites who only know enough Malay to speak to their maid or driver.

The other thing was how confident Tunku Abdul Rahman looked in dealing with British politicians and leaders during the independence negotiations. He treated them as equals and clearly felt he belonged on whatever stage he was on and with whomever he was sharing it with.

Tunku was born into a privileged royal family. He went on to study at Cambridge, as did Lee, so that may explain a lot. While in those days Cambridge or Oxford was a normal educational stop for the privileged from the Commonwealth, you could still get a decent education there.

Their upbringing imbued them with self-confidence and a belief that they were just as good as the colonial masters. Perhaps with that also came a feeling that they were better than their own people, which resulted in a sense of noblesse oblige that drove them, sometimes reluctantly, into politics.

Leaders of a different class

Since those good old days, politics in Malaysia has descended into the basement.

You don’t need to study hard, work hard or spend years paying your dues or building competence. You just need to win a few small political elections at your local party’s branch, and tomorrow you’re a minister. Or an emissary to the Middle East or the Vatican or China or India.

Jobs are literally created for you because, well, such jobs have to be created for you. Exactly how much such sinecures can influence, impress or deliver remains to be seen.

While we do have current political leaders with the same privileged backgrounds – having a father who’s a prime minister is a common thing nowadays – they don’t enter politics out of a sense of duty or obligation. Screw noblesse oblige, welcome nouveau riche.

Two classes of new ‘heroes’

On the other side are those with humbler backgrounds – kampung heroes who excelled at the rough and tumble of local politics, tough and abrasive local champions catapulted to the national or even international stage in spite of glaring deficiencies.

Decades of being political warlords have shaped them into transactional heroes who feel the country owes them for their “sacrifices”. They believe getting to the top validates them and it’s time for payback. No sense of guilt or shame is necessary. Semua Saya Sapu.

The other types are the “professionals” – the lawyers, engineers, doctors or civil servants; many are products of local educational institutions, where either standards are questionable or education is just all about picking up pieces of paper.

These two types are the loudest and most over-the-top of our local politicians. They treat politics like a blood sport, stirring up a toxic mix of racism, misogyny (even from the women) and outright entitlement. Their power, or their party’s power, shields them from accountability and sanctions.

Because of them we also increasingly see, in a more materialistic and ironically, more religious Malaysia, that huge and ostentatious wealth is acceptable, even necessary. If you have it, you must flaunt it.

Cringe-worthy class

These are the people who, at forums bigger than their normal hometown audiences, end up becoming a national embarrassment. They make us cringe when they open their mouths – whether at a local event or at the United Nations,

It’s not that you expect them to speak the Queen’s English, but you do expect decent English from a Malaysian leader, in a country where English is widely spoken and is even one of the acknowledged assets that has brought in investments and jobs. That, and a bit of IQ and statesmanship.

The other thing that catches your eye is how timid they are on the world stage. The inferiority complex shines through, which they plaster over at home with arrogant rhetoric and meek audiences. They are no Tunku or Lee by any stretch of the imagination.

In those early days, the leaders of politics were clearly superior in education compared to the mostly poor masses. Today, the masses are much better educated, some extremely so, while the leaders have regressed. We are no longer putting our best and brightest to lead us.

The bodek culture endemic in Malaysia makes things worse. The people at the “top”, whether in politics, public service, business or society, feel they’re superior by the mere fact of their position. The obsequiousness of those below them just reinforces this behaviour.

Poseurs and principles

There’s a Malay saying that goes ‘bagai rusa masuk kampung’ – like a deer entering a village. The timidity, uncertainty and downright fear of the poor animal is painfully clear for all to see.

In the West there is a similar idea – of a deer getting caught in headlights, and the same wide-eyed bewilderment, with the poor animal frozen by fear. But there, as it often happens, the deer gets run over, and we have one less deer to embarrass us.

Our leaders earlier were elephants and tigers. Now they are deer, albeit deer protected by titles and positions and even laws and especially the bodek culture.

They run wild and free, but not so free as to escape from their own internal fears and insecurities. Much like the cockerels of the Malay proverb, proudly crowing while their tails are coated with dung.

My mother, who felt lowly and insignificant compared to the Tuans (and the Tunkus), balanced that by having strong principles on responsibilities and rights and wrongs. Many of the current poseurs are like her too – except for the principles. - FMT

The views expressed are those of the writer and do not necessarily reflect those of MMKtT.