How to love Malaysia

Malaysia is a tough country to love.

At first, she draws you in with her easy charm. She brings you sunshine every day and gives a warm shelter from the storm. Her story recounts a miraculous past: of how she rarely fought despite irreconcilable differences, of how she always preferred a peaceful and modest life, of how she never gave up on prayers and hope.

Like all first love, you thought you found perfection and boasted about her wherever you went. But like all first love, her charm eventually fades.

You listen closely.

She is not spared from the curse of divisive politics: race, religion, and identity were used as combat tools for sustenance. Sometimes she articulates her sufferings from decades of oppression, other times she is unreasonable and too demanding. In her bones there are fractures that are common to every country. 

There is no perfection in Malaysia, there is only beauty-in-progress.

How hope changes

I remember the first article I wrote two years ago on Merdeka Day. I wrote about hope and how I believed in the Malaysian Project, that we have enough good people to carry through. 

At that time, Najib (above) was reigning above the people and the law. He broke every rule on governance and self-control; he showed us what it meant to have no integrity and dignity. None of the institutions were working, opposition parties lacked cohesion, the country was in a financial and systemic haemorrhage – the sky of hope was pitch black.

Somehow, we won the election.

A year ago on Merdeka Day, we believed everything was possible. Just three months from the fateful 9 May, our collective mood took a dramatic change from no-hope to only-hope.

We had demands jotted down on a notebook, and a determination to make Malaysia the best country on earth.

But now, we are back to losing hope – and it’s easy to see why.

The past few months have been filled with highly emotive verbal fights. Every race feels like they’re not being heard, so they amplified their volume. In response, the opposing race would rebut with a louder volume.

No one could hear the other over the shouting. Everyone feels threatened and everyone is doing the threatening. This reached a fever pitch when the khat issue and Zakir Naik’s (below) utterances unleashed our worst instincts.

No overnight racists

I don’t think Malaysia has gotten more racist over the past few months. It’s not possible to become an overnight racist or to change a racist into a non-racist overnight. Racism is built on complex layers of circumstances and unchallenged assumptions, fear, and suspicions.

The only difference, as always, was politicians who willingly allowed themselves to make the national narrative about race and division. Worse, they deliberately manufactured them for political gain.

It was expected of Umno and PAS to amplify their rhetoric on identity politics. PAS’s existence has always relied heavily on race and religion, whilst Umno had to appeal to the fringe communal groups of society to stay relevant. 

The pronouncement of race and religion as the main political weapon was announced loud and clear in every by-election and party election. Hand in hand, Umno and PAS proclaimed themselves the official defenders of race and religion.

What is less expected, however, is how the government sang to the same tune. When PH was in the opposition, we sought refuge in them when the then-BN government used their old race-religion playbook. But when PH became the government, they seemed to return to the same, like an addict shivering into relapse.

The eternal return of race and religion

The recent fire was ignited by a few issues that were entirely avoidable and unnecessary. Yet, the government manufactured them to shore up their support among the extremist groups. Not doing so, they thought, would lose them the election.

What they didn’t care for was that pandering to narrow interests was slowly destroying the social fabric of our society. Being first-timers to power, they have tasted unprecedented power, money, and status. 

To stay in power, they must pander. And in pandering, they gained many likes and followers on social media platforms. The loud voices online love the sensational, provocative, and inflammatory. Talking about real issues like the economy and the people’s wellbeing doesn’t gain you as much online traction.

When the online noises were filled with racial and religious fights, the politicians took the easy way out: Give the people what they want. They assumed that the loudest voice online was also the most representative. They were wrong.

In spite of the divisive politics reflected in the headlines, the people on the ground are living side by side without complaints. Most people of different shades still believe in the common creed of being one Malaysian race. We still study, work, play, relax, and gather together.

Unity is never created by politicians.

I still believe

The solution to our problem doesn’t lie in politics, it lies in our day-to-day realities. Our tolerance of our friends, colleagues, acquaintances of different race, religion, and culture is our strongest resistance against manipulative and irresponsible politicians.

Whatever a politician says on stage will not make our society more or less racist. They only provide legitimacy to a mainstream narrative. 

But if the mainstream narrative is far from reality, then after some time, they will start losing its power.

We don’t need to wait for a godly politician to save us. We could organise on local levels, and seek understanding and empathy from each other without being disturbed by politicians who plot their electoral returns against the best interest of Malaysia.

Malaysia is a tough country to love. But she is the only one I know.

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JAMES CHAI is a legal consultant and researcher working for Invoke, among others. You may reach him at jameschai.mpuk@gmail.com. - Mkini