The fight for justice

I used to work for the Presidential elections in Afghanistan and hence still have a lot of concerns and passion for the electoral operation there. In the midst of all the preparation for the Parliamentary Election in September 2005, I was filled with a sense of fear.

I chose not to renew my contract with the Joint Electoral Management Body (JEMB), a body which is part the UN and part the Independent Electoral Commission (IEC) of Afghanistan, last year simply because of my intolerance towards the practices of nepotism and corruption within the electoral management in the region I was responsible for.

Despite a long and carefully articulated letter to the headquarters backed with facts and cases, my effort to make a change in the system fell on deaf ears.

The only response I received was, “You write beautifully!” which of course was an insult to me.

By then, I realised that nothing I did would ever change the system particularly when those who were in the position to make decisions did not seem to care much about the integrity of the process. I guess when you can’t beat them...my own position is not to join them.

This year, things are different although not without fear. I am finally a human rights officer being assigned to the Political Rights Verification Campaign (PRVC), a joint United Nations Assistance Mission in Afghanistan (UNAMA) and the Afghan Independent Human Rights Commission project. The project is aimed at verifying whether there is a conducive environment for a free and fair election in Afghanistan.

In a country where intimidations from local commanders, anti-governmental entities, pro-Taliban supporters and corrupted senior governmental officials are just part of an Afghan’s daily affairs, it is indeed a very difficult operation but no doubt a much needed one.

From working for the election previously to assessing the credibility of the election, I was very excited.

It is my duty to collect information of those who violate the principles of non-intimidation, non-partiality and non-discrimination.

Thankfully the people I am working with are true human rights defenders with great principles and true sense of integrity. So, my work is not really something I fear for.

My fear is this. Given the new electoral system and laws, each province is given a specific number of seats depending on the size of the population.

According to the constitution and the electoral laws, women are required to fill at least 25 per cent of the total seats, which of course is a huge step for a country like Afghanistan. I doubt that women actually fill up more than 10 per cent of the parliamentary seats in all established democratic countries.

Due to the Single Non Transferable Vote (SNTV) electoral system, only independent candidates are allowed to contest in the elections and not political parties.

The candidates can belong to a specific political parties but he or she is not allowed to contest under the political party’s name.

With the recent completion of the candidate nomination period, the Joint Electoral Management Body (JEMB) has registered more than 6,000 candidates. There is yet a vetting process to be carried out in order to produce the final candidate roll.

The only criterion for a candidate to be deemed ineligible is if he or she has been or is convicted of a crime by a competent court. The culture of impunity is well known in Afghanistan due to the weakness of the rule of law institutions.

There are still many provincial courts in the country, which are not functioning at all due to the lack of qualified judges and prosecutors. Most judges are trained in the Sharia Law and have no in-dept knowledge of civil and criminal laws or procedures. In addition to that, the judiciary system is reputable for being corrupted.

Having said all this, it is not difficult to deduce that the vetting process for electoral candidates will not provide any impact and on the extreme, means nothing at all.

It has been more than a week since the end of the candidate nomination period and a few hundreds candidates have somehow gave up on the contest even before it has begun. There are only two explanations for this.

Firstly, some of the candidates must have been intimidated or threatened by stronger candidates backed by dominant political parties.

There have been many unverified reports of intimidation and self-censorship all over the regions and although the UN has no credible evidences to back these allegations up, nobody who has stayed in Afghanistan long enough will dispute them.

Secondly, due to the specific number of allocated seats, the exercise of “pre-selection” of candidates has taken place in many places. It is not difficult to assume that in certain regions or provinces, the political race will run along the line of ethnic groups.

For instance, in order to have “favoured” candidates win the election by default, it is logical to intimidate other candidates into withdrawing their nominations.

So, these are my fear. Sometimes I feel that my effort and time are wasted here. Many times I fear for the Afghans who truly want to see their children grow up in a peaceful country without intimidation or discrimination.

With the recent bombing and killings of innocent Afghans in a mosque in Kandahar, my fear becomes magnified. If the Afghans do not start to pick themselves up, I doubt anybody else could. Those who truly want to make a change are often being killed or terrorised.

How then, could things change? Am I deluded to believe that things will change for the better for these people?

Yes, these are the reasons why I have been asking myself what the hell am I doing here. And what makes me think twice to stay? As Andrew Beckett, a character played by Tom Hanks in Philadelphia said, “What I love most about the law? I love most about the law is because not often but very occasionally, you are a part of justice being done.”

So, what has kept me here despite being frustrated and disappointed, is that the little faith left in me says perhaps, just perhaps, I might be a part of justice being done in Afghanistan.

I finally left Afghanistan after living there for 2 years. Although I managed to survive a death threat, I eventually succumbed to eczema. Unfortunately, I felt that I have left without leaving much impact.

This was first published in The Malaysian Insider on 27 March 2010.

Why we should vote

This was first published on The Malaysian Insider on 28 November 2010.

Democracy is a powerful notion.

It allows; an octogenarian black woman, a single-mother working on double shifts, a 40 year-old unemployed college drop-out, a life-saving surgeon, a homeless war veteran with one arm, a 19 year-old exchange student in Europe, a young beautiful stripper, Joe the gay plumber and Mary the unhappy housewife; to choose who they want to run their country.

It is perhaps the only rare time when every single person, who has not relinquished his or her civil and political rights, will ever be treated equally. Think about it: is there any other time when everyone’s voices are valued and measured in the same manner regardless of their socio-economic background? And because of this power and the sanctity of it, the State will try its best to provide each and everyone the means to exercise this inalienable right to vote.

Photo above: Robin Carnahan, a Democrat candidate for the Missouri State House of Representatives lost in the recent Mid-Term election.

Democracy can be a dangerous notion.

In order to wipe out competition; political opponents, women candidates and pro-democratic mullahs are intimidated or killed. Women who decide to shed their proverbial and literal burqas in order to have their photographs laminated on their voter registration cards are being threatened to death or killed.

For the lucky ones who manage to emerge unscathed, they will walk miles and miles to the polling stations in the harsh winter climate wearing only inferior Croc-style shoes on their freezing feet and determination on their faces already showing signs of pre-mature aging.

I was fortunate enough to witness how democracy was carried out in the United States of America (USA) and Afghanistan. Although their spirits are as different as night and day, the essence of the notion remains the same. Hence, for the precise reason that democracy is such a powerful notion that many Afghans are being persecuted for embracing it. To me, this is the first reason why we should vote.

I love elections. There is nothing more exciting and inspiring than watching regular citizens from any given layer of society share one common belief that each of them has the opportunity to be a part of that intricate fabric that will one day adorn their government.

When I am at a polling station, I am amazed and comforted by the thought that no matter how insignificant one is in the scheme of things, his or her vote will be counted. No matter what the election outcome is, that person’s existence that day has mattered greatly. Sadly, it is too rare to witness such a sense of importance and purpose in regular people throughout our daily lives, but when such opportunity presents itself, it is truly an honour.

When my alarm clock went off at 4:30am on 2 November 2010, I jumped off my bed and was ready in advance of my 5:30am pick-up. John Chasnoff, the Programme Manager for the American Civil Liberties Union for Eastern-Missouri (ACLU, E-M) (insert hyperlink: http://www.aclu-em.org/), pulled up at the entrance of my hotel on South-Jefferson Avenue, St. Louis City, a few minutes after 5:30am.

Photo above: Volunteers at the legal command centre of St. Louis. It was still dark outside. Polling stations open at 6am in the United States on Election Day.

Photo above: Finally things got a bit more exciting as the day progressed. Volunteers gathered together to discuss a complaint.

It was still dark and the roads were completely deserted when we arrived at a Reformed Judaism temple serving as the legal command centre for St. Louis’s Voter Protection Programme (insert hyperlink: http://www.advancementproject.org/our-work/voter-protection) that day. The programme was run by Advancement Project with the help of a coalition of non-governmental organisations such as ACLU, National Disability Rights Network, etc.

We were greeted by Denise Lieberman, a civil rights lawyer, who had just arrived at the center with her arms full. I quickly established that she was the team leader as she wasted no time in turning on the lights and coffee machine, setting up the centre, getting someone to pick up assortments of bagels and cream cheeses and organising the volunteers who were beginning to trickle in to the centre.

Most volunteers were lawyers on standby to address complaints of electoral irregularities. The day started off slowly and I was beginning to feel convinced that voters in America do not need protection after all and the existence of such programme was merely a frivolity and not necessity.

Throughout my trip in the USA, I asked some Americans whether electoral fraud is a concern in the country. Most of them smiled politely as if it was the most ridiculous question they had ever heard. According to many, it would be extremely difficult but not impossible, to find someone trying to vote twice since the real challenge is actually to get more Americans to vote. Apparently, the USA is notoriously known for low voter turnout, except for the last Presidential election when throngs of young voters turned up to vote.

What intrigued me the most was the absence of photo ID as a requirement to vote. When I pressed on about how such a system could potentially become a target for abuse and fraud, most of them just shrugged and said, “You just need to trust.” It was my turn to smile politely.

While refilling my third cup of coffee that morning, I stroke up a conversation with another volunteer. According to him, many Americans do not have any form of photo identification since not all Americans possess a passport or driver’s license; the two most common documents with photos attached. As such, it makes it virtually impossible for the electoral law to include photo ID as a requirement to vote. He believes that one of the main reasons why some Americans make this into such a big issue is to prevent certain voters from voting for the opposition.

Sure enough, one of the complaints which subsequently came in that morning was of a polling officer who insisted that a voter must present a photo ID in order to vote. Later on, John and I were sent to a polling station to investigate a complaint against a Republican challenger who was allegedly telling polling officers that the voting machines were faulty and in order for a republican vote to be registered in the system, voters must press the button for the Republican candidate repetitively. Another complaint received was from a blind voter who was concerned that the polling officer might not have read out the whole list of candidates and propositions on the ballot paper.

Once we determined that the day was not going to get more exciting, John was ready to cast his vote at the polling station where he registered. As long as I am not John’s employer or labour union representative, I was allowed to accompany and assist him at the voting booth, in which I did. Since USA is pretty much a country that seems to rely heavily on trust, nobody bothered to question whether John genuinely needed my assistance in the first place. I also noticed that there was no police presence in most of the polling stations we went. The only time when we actually saw them was when they came to collect the ballot boxes.

 

Photo above: John Chasnoff distributing electoral materials at one of the polling stations. We had to make sure that we were at least 25 feet away from the entrance of the polling station. A voter arrived at the polling station with his granddaughter.

When I talked to John about my experience in Afghanistan as a Civic Education Officer and Political Rights Verification Officer, I was reminded of how different the atmosphere was on election day in Afghanistan. At the end of the day, we would have witnessed or received countless of reports on the number of fraud, intimidation and violence committed all over the country.

I think there are many reasons why some people do not vote. It could be because they have lost faith in the whole democratic process. It could also be because they do not know who to vote for or care enough for what the candidates stand for. It could be because they are not physically or mentally fit to vote. But there are also many who do not vote simply because they think their votes do not matter and election period is just another day for politicians to hurl malicious accusations at each other in public. For these people, here’s news for you.

Democracy is not free but often comes with a huge price. It is not handed down to us on a silver platter but one that is often filled with blood and difficult compromises. For many of us who live in relatively peaceful and politically stable countries, we have become myopic of how our fore parents had fought hard for it many years ago. It would appear that the more democratic a country is, the less interested her people are in her political affairs. For isn’t this the ugly side of human nature that it is when something is taken away from you that you will only come to value it the most?

So vote while you still have the right to do so.

Stop feeling happier

If one of your New Year’s resolutions is to feel happier about the world, I have got news for you, buddy. It is not happening.

Misery is here to stay and unfortunately, you are part of it.

The truth is, I have been unhappy for a while. There you go, I finally said it.

If you think I’m another self-indulgent writer who is taking advantage of the media to whine about how unhappy I am, you’re absolutely right. But I will tell you now that I take no pleasure in doing so because I would rather be the bearer of good news on this New Year if I could.

Well, it began to dawn on me how unhappy I have been when the media recently reported that a French company has successfully produced the world’s first self-regulating artificial heart transplant. Instead of being thrilled with the technological marvel, I scorned at it.

I scorned at it because seriously, do we really need human beings to live longer?

Here are some words to describe human beings – capitalist, authoritarian, hypocrite, sadist, fanatic, xenophobe and racist.  I mean, look around you. Misery is everywhere and we, the human beings, are responsible for it.

For those who truly know me, I usually have a sarcastic or cynical comeback for most things. People who constantly post positive things on their Facebook or say only positive things about the world make me feel uncomfortable. Do not get me wrong, it is not that I do not want to share their positivity, I just do not buy it. I wish they would just cut the crap and stop pretending that everything is okay.

I had a conversation with a colleague about what it means to save the planet. This is what he said, “The term saving the planet is so deceitful because the planet does not really need saving. It has the ability to heal itself. If we are really concern about saving the planet, then we must be rid it of ourselves because our mere existence is harming the planet. So people should stop using the term ‘save the planet’ because what they really mean is to save human beings, not the planet.”

I appreciated him for cutting the crap.

I have been unhappy for a while because I know the world is not getting better and I do not have to look far to see this. Just look at what we’re doing to each other in Malaysia and how our government is intent on making us unhappy.

You see, the general rule is that many of us have to slog away at least five days a week for many years before we can live the lifestyle we want, unless we are born on a silver platter, win the lottery or steal.

On top of paying our home loan, car loan, electricity bill, water bill, sewerage bill, service and maintenance fee, tuition fee, legal fee, sinking fund, pension fund, insurance, road toll, road tax, assessment tax, service tax, and income tax, a part of our hard-earned income will eventually be stolen to benefit a few people while we pinch here and there just to save up for the things that will make us happy. So let me tell you now that as a taxpayer, I am extremely unhappy but what can I do?

If I refuse to pay my taxes in protest, I will be punished by the very same government whom I’m protesting against.

When things look bleak and if I want to turn to God for wisdom, I am told by people who simply have no business in my personal life that I cannot address God the way I want to.

If I want to express my unhappiness out loud, I am reminded to leave the country.

If I am serious enough and decide to lobby for mass support, I will be accused of overthrowing the government.

If I decide to seek legislative change through the ballot, I may never see change because the politicians who share my sentiment will not have fair access to the media and resources to reach out to the majority of the people.

I had dinner with an NGO partner this week and we talked about how to run successful awareness campaigns. I could tell he was not impressed with street protests and thought the original Occupy movement failed to maintain the momentum it garnered from the beginning. He was convinced that public satire will pressure the authority into respecting human rights and democracy.

The sad truth is, shaming does not work in this country. Believe me, many people have tried.  Satire has no place in this country. It is like those offending drivers who stick their middle fingers at you just because you honk at them for cutting into your lane without signaling. That is who we are. We reward the bad guys and punish the good ones. 

I have been unhappy because this government has never lifted a finger to help NGOs that promote human rights, democracy and good governance. For years, these NGOs are made the enemy of the state while groups propagating racial hatred are allowed to flourish.

The Auditor General’s report will tell us that the wastage generated by our civil servants year after year would have secured the funding of many NGOs for many years. As I often say, their spare change would have made these NGOs millionaires. Instead, many are forced to depend on irregular sources of funding through the goodwill of people other than this government.

So my fellow Malaysians, we cannot afford to be happy now. If anything, we need to be extra unhappy and continue to express that unhappiness because I know what the top people are doing. Do not think I have been fooled for a second. Creating religious and racial polarity among us is a classic example of trying to distract us from focusing on how they have led this country and its people into ruin.

My fellow Malaysians, please do not be fooled by the people who tell you that you should be happy, that things are not that bad. To these people, I will tell them to wake up and smell the rotting flesh before they are turned into carcasses.

Here is an Unhappy New Year message to all – stop trying to feel happier about the world. Instead, make it happier.

This article was first published in The Malaysian Insider on 9 January 2014.

In search of the right one

Overheard at a wedding reception at the Ritz-Carlton, Kuala Lumpur.

Mrs. Ravi: Singham! Are you still seeing that Monica? I saw you flirting-flirting with Mary at the bar. Talking and laughing only. What’s going on?

Singham: We’re just talkinglah, Ma. Are you flirting with Aunty Tina? Both of you seem to be talking and laughing all the time. What’s going on, huh? Huh?

Mrs. Ravi: You don’t be cheeky and don’t think I haven’t noticed you poking and sending those x-o-x-o nonsense to Angela, Pamela, Sandra and Rita on Facebook. So naughty only.

Singham: Huh? What the…. I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ma. Honestly!

Mrs. Ravi: You added me to your Facebook three years ago. Remember?

Singham: But, but… I thought I’ve blocked you?!

Mrs. Ravi: Who do you really think Erica is?

A long and uncomfortable silence ensues as Singham vaguely recalls receiving a friend request from someone called Erica a couple of months ago.

Mrs. Ravi: Boy, now tell me honestly, when will I get to hold my first grandchild?!

Singham gulps and wipes the sweat already forming on his forehead. Before he figures out a way to appease his mother, he makes a mental note not to poke any random girls on his Facebook account ever again.

Singham: Aiyah, Maaaa. Monica is nice but she hates children. She seems to think that they’re rental toys to be dressed up and then sent back with a refundable deposit. Pamela’s fun but she’s so self-centred, as if the whole world revolves around her. Angela, umm….She thinks she’s so damn pretty and desirable, she can get away with anything.

Mrs. Ravi: What about Rita and Jessica? I saw photos of you on vacation with them. Separately-separately some more.

Singham: Aiyah, Ma. Relaxlah. Marriage is a big thing. I want to find the right girl. Can’t just simply pick one, right?!

Mrs. Ravi: Tell me, what type of girl are you looking for? Don’t be so picky only.

Singham: I don’t know, Ma.

(Sighs)

OK, OK, if you must know, I guess she must be pretty. Fun, but got her head screwed on right. A good cook. Independent. Not the needy and manipulative kind. Ah yes, funny of course. And doesn’t take herself too seriously. Hmmm…what else? Someone who likes her food? But not fatlah. Kind, caring and intelligent. Neat but not obsessively anal? Modest but yet confident. Respects the environment and loves animals. Honest.

Mrs. Ravi: You know Erica is taken, right? (Winks)

The thought of him poking “Erica” just a couple of weeks ago sends Singham into a state of nausea.

Yes, if only a bachelor’s life is as easy as Mambo Number Five.

Picking the right gal is probably harder than picking the right shade of tie to go with your pink Ted Baker shirt and brown Steve Madden brogues. Yet, we tend to take our time trying out as many styles, colours, designs and silhouettes before we eventually settle for the one we will be proud to display and put a signature on (we’re not even talking about fashion anymore).

We’ve been investing much of our time flipping through the pages of magazines, pondering over the choice of watches, shoes, restaurants, cars, bags, gadgets, vacations and gifts. We weigh the options, look at their merits, compare their values and finally make the decision we believe will serve our interest best.

Once a year, some of us read the profile of unknown men (and women) who get handpicked by different magazines to become Men (or Women) of the Year (secretly, some of us think that we’re better than the picks, especially those LoyarBurok flers) and we instinctively put on our judgment cap as opposed to a fedora. We agree that to be picked as Men (or Women) of the Year, you’ve gotta have that something, the je ne sais quoi – not just the looks and goods but also some sort of criteria that gives each individual that extra edge; creativity, entrepreneurship, sportsmanship, leadership and, of course good looks never seem to hurt (damn those bitches (or bastards!)).

Two years ago, UndiMsia! carried out a project called the Laporan Rakyat. No, it’s not an opinion poll on whether Julie Woon is hotter than Yvonne Sim. It’s a scorecard that invites respondents to rate their State Assemblyperson and Member of Parliament. (OK, we’ve seen that same disappointed look (and yawn) many times. Sorry, we’re immune to it.)

We ask the respondents a series of questions ranging from:

- Are you a registered voter?

- Who are your Ahli Dewan Undangan Negeri (ADUN) and Member of Parliament (MP)?

- Describe your ADUN and MP in 50 words.

- What is the most important thing your ADUN and MP have done which has positively affected you and your community?

- Is it easy to meet your ADUN and MP?

- Do they know about the issues in your community? Do they solve the issues?

- Do they discuss these issues with your community and make a decision together for your community?

- Have they fulfilled their promises and pledges during the previous elections?

- Are you happy with their performances?

We also ask the respondents whether they’ve heard their ADUN and MP speak about crime, corruption, education, employment, environment, freedom of expression, democracy, gender equality, healthcare, public infrastructure, racial unity and prices of food, goods and housing.

To be honest, our findings were most troubling but not entirely surprising. It did seem that most of the candidates do have that je ne sais quoi, except in the literal sense of the word. While many of the respondents are most likely able to articulate the qualities they look for in a life partner (like our dear Singham), majority do not seem to be able to identify who their ADUN and MP are, much less what they stand for and how they have been performing. Hence, a literally I-don’t-know-what kind of response.

Now, what’s troubling is that the majority of Malaysians seem to be contented with leaving important decisions such as how the country is being run, how laws are being made and how the country’s money is being spent, in the hands of total strangers. Sure, you’re not going to bed and live with your ADUN and MP for the rest of your life (unless you’re the Mohamed Salleh Ismail type and look where he had ended up), but they are the ones making laws that will affect every aspect of your life and your family’s - the affordability of your first family home together, the quality of your child’s education and her freedom to profess the religion of her choice, amongst many other things.

What’s not surprising is that many Malaysians are likely more interested in Facebook status updates, uploading photographs of what they ate the night before and debating which smart phones they would die for, than what law has just been passed in Parliament to restrict Malaysians’ right to Internet freedom, for example. An irony, don’t you think?

Frankly speaking, finding the right partner is not even close to half of the relationship’s struggle (sorry to put a damper on you). Once Singham has found her and he’s lucky enough to survive that seven-year bitch, errr... itch, both of them will inevitably be confronted with making decisions about housing and eventually the cost of living, education and healthcare. How is it possible that we can be picky about the criteria we look for in so many things in our lives – fashion, gadgets, cars, properties, partner but not the very person who will represent our well-being and interest as citizens of this country?

The 13^th General Election is finally over. The people have chosen. What’s left now is for all the elected representatives to get to work and to prove how worthy they are of the people’s votes. It’s also up to us to hold them accountable to their duties. After all, if all things fail and result in irreconcilable differences, a separation or divorce can be an option like any other relationships.

All we’re saying is, when it comes to choosing your elected representatives, always get to know them first so you can weigh your options, look at their merits, compare their values and finally make the decision you believe will serve your interest best. You would do this for the many other things in your life so why would you expect less from our politicians?

This article is inspired by UndiMsia!’s Laporan Rakyat project. UndiMsia! is a fiercely non-partisan movement focusing on citizen empowerment. For more information, please visit www.undimsia.com.

First published on FZ.com on 5 September 2013 under the title How to Choose Your Spouse or ADUN/MP?

Technorati Tags: ADUN,Ahli Dewan Undangan Negeri,MP,Member of Parliament,UndiMsia!,LoyarBurok. Mohamed Salleh Ismail,GE13

National reconciliation or retaliation?

There was no cry of jubilation. Neither were there tears of joy.

If you had been in a coma during the past few weeks and were suddenly awakened to the image of the Barisan Nasional’s victory speech on television, you would have thought that someone important had died and the whole nation had gone into mourning mode. Why wouldn’t you when Datuk Seri Najib Razak and his sidekicks looked as if the apocalypse was upon them?

Before you could even make out the hazy details that had preceded such collective sombreness, you found yourself being hit by a train of confusion. “Chinese tsunami” quickly followed by “national reconciliation” — two terms coined together only mere minutes after the announcement of the election results were enough to make me want to crawl back into that coma. Ignorance is after all bliss during moments like this.

As I begin to hear comments pouring in from different public figures and the public, of what they thought of the proposed national reconciliation, I felt sheepishly stupid. Am I the only one who doesn’t understand what it means or what it’s for?

The coma must have impaired my intellectual capacity. Full stop.

A few days ago, someone asked me what I understood about Najib’s notion of national reconciliation. Instead of giving that person a straightforward answer, I went on a crooked tangent. If you were as confused as I was, you would probably understand why.

This was my answer: “You know what? It took me two years to learn how to reconcile my accounts. Why did it take me so long? Well, honestly, I had no clue how to do it! Accounting is like a useless foreign language to me. Neither do I understand it, nor do I have the desire to learn it. So it took me two years to finally nail it down. Anyway, to answer your question, I think national reconciliation is a bit like me trying to reconcile my accounts. The federal government has no clue what it’s about and most likely has no desire to learn what it really is about.”

Horrified at my analogy, the person finally said: “If what you said is true, let’s hope they’ll at least nail it down in the end.”

Of course, hope is a good thing and one can always hope.

Anyway, Najib had come out in public and said that national reconciliation is needed to heal racial and political divide. Never mind what he said because since then, I’ve had more opportunities to hear what other people thought about this notion in person and, unsurprisingly, different people seem to hold very different opinions of it. Although some agreed wholeheartedly that it’s all about reconciling racial divide, others said it’s more about the urban-rural divide. A few said that there’s really no racial divide and it was the politicians who have spun it to instil hate and fear because the real issue here is economic divide. A few vehemently claimed that it’s all about political party divide, much to the chagrin of those who quickly rebutted that political party division is a good thing and the pillar of a robust democracy. Listening to these opinions reminded me of the story of the elephant and the three blind men. (Scary or what? But anyway, Malaysia boleh!)

Without turning this article into something unnecessarily lengthy, I shall cut to the chase. Let’s just suppose that the prime minister is honest about his intention, how should he and his Cabinet go about developing the framework of this national reconciliation?

Here’s my take as a layperson. (I realise I’m running the risk of oversimplifying the issue but I think simplification is exactly what we need now.) I believe in order for a national reconciliation to be successful, it must first fulfil three criteria — it must 1) command the public’s confidence, 2) be a meaningful exercise, and 3) result in action. At the same time, it must be guided by these core principles — 1) truth, 2) repentance, and 3) justice.

In order to achieve the first criterion, the government owes it to the public to provide a clear and truthful explanation of what this national reconciliation is all about. As it is, the public’s confidence of the new government is already at an all-time low, it is now up to the latter to convince the public of the true purpose of this process. Without the public’s confidence and faith in this, it is likely going to suffer the same fate as the 1 Malaysia slogan, one that reeks of a political rather than human agenda. To curb this, the government must secure the public’s participation in developing its framework; not just their supporters but also dissenters. As such, it is imperative for the government to listen to both sides and this necessitates freeing up media space to allow opinions from both sides to be heard.

Secondly, for this exercise to be truly meaningful, the government must understand the true meaning of reconciliation. In order for reconciliation to work, all party must be willing to admit their wrongdoing, repent and agree to move forward together. The closing of one chapter so that a fresh one can begin, so to speak. As the initiator of this agenda, the government must first admit that it has played a role in allowing racism to manifest and, as such, resulted in this divide. By initiating this process, the government must be willing to admit that the 1 Malaysia campaign, the National Service Training and the National Economic Programme have in a way failed or contributed towards perpetuating racial-based politics because otherwise, why on earth do we need national reconciliation? By doing this, the government shows repentance and sincerity and this will help to restore the public’s confidence in the process.

Finally and perhaps most importantly, all this must in the end result in the government taking real action towards reconciliation. There has been far too many projects and agenda that ended up being nothing but mere politically rhetoric with no real benefit or meaning for the people. I’ve listened to various people giving recommendations of what should be done to achieve this goal — from establishing a parliamentary select committee to unifying our education curriculum. All noble solutions which will take a long time to implement and before you know it, the public loses interest and nobody remembers why the process was proposed in the first place. For a quick start just to get things rolling, in order for the government to prove its sincerity and will, why not get rid of those boxes that seek to verify our races in all government-related forms once and for all? Punish ministers who incite racial hatred and make an example out of them. Justice must be blind and not just for the powerful.

In conclusion, after all that is said and done, the secret ingredient that will eventually create a Malaysian culture that abhors racism is really quite simple. All it takes really is for the government to first set an exemplary role in eradicating racial sentiments and once that is accomplished, I am quite confident that the rest will follow. Not unlike reconciling your accounts, the two sides must be in tandem with each other. Otherwise, let’s not fool ourselves by calling it reconciliation but retaliation instead. If I were an avid conspiracy theorist, I would have concluded that “Chinese tsunami” and “national reconciliation” were part of a national retaliation strategy to divert the people’s attention from what’s really to come.

So Mr Prime Minister, which one is it going to be?

This article was first published on The Malaysian Insider on 27 May 2013.

Technorati Tags: National Reconciliation,GE13,PRU13,Chinese Tsunami,1Malaysia,National Service Training,National Economic Plan,NEP,Barisan Nasional,Najib Razak

Global Bersih: Connecting Malaysians Around the World

This article was first published in The Malaysian Insider on 8 June 2012.

When a work engagement required me to be in Washington DC on April 28, I decided to meet some fellow Malaysians who were involved in Global Bersih 3.0: Washington DC for the purpose of writing this article. I wanted to bring their stories home with me.

Exhausted from a full day of an “unconference” and heavily deprived of sleep from an all-nighter of monitoring “live” tweets on the rally, I waited patiently for my company to arrive. They were going to end their march at the Malaysian Kopitiam, a tradition that started on July 9 last year.

I ordered a glass of “teh tarik” but when it arrived at my table, it was just regular hot tea with milk and sugar served on a small cup and saucer. Not the real thing naturally, but authentic Malaysian cuisine was not why I was there.

While waiting for nearly an hour, I kept myself alert by listening to other people’s conversations with my eyes closed, giving the illusion that I wasn’t eavesdropping. It wasn’t difficult at all since I was close to being brain dead.

Two waitresses, presumably Malaysians, were quizzing each other at the bar on what the rally was all about in Cantonese. Although they were speaking under their breath, I could identify the gossipy tones of a hush-hush conversation between two nosey neighbours across the fence.

They ended their conversation abruptly when a party of eight Americans walked in. One of them shrugged her shoulders and before she left hastily to welcome the party, she ended by sighing, “Haiyah. Who really knows? It has nothing to do with us, right?”

Once the loud conversations ensued at the table, I established that the Americans were probably members of a foodie club of some sort. Their leader began to introduce the dishes, which had been pre-ordered because they were all served shortly after they were seated.

The leader insisted that everyone must absolutely try the curry puff and “popiah.” To reinforce her authority, she continued to share her knowledge of Malaysian food culture and how she thought the food in Penang was one of the best she had ever tried in Asia. The rest nodded in sheer admiration of her worldly wisdom.

As soon as the tiny door to the basement of the building, where the modest restaurant is located, opened, a hyped-up small group of young Asians and two Caucasians in bright yellow T-shirts entered. Unmistakably, they were the company I had been expecting. I recognised Kean and Andrea whom I had met a few days ago and I was quickly introduced to the others.

I was happy to see Andrea again. Behind that quiet and shy demeanour, she’s fondly known as “the slayer” at The Hatchet, a student paper at the George Washington University, where she served as senior editor. We had met at a campus bar at the university where she’ll be finishing her journalism degree soon.

Having interned with an online news portal in Malaysia a few months back, she was fully apprised of the political situation in Malaysia. Coming from a country where a permit for peaceful assembly is often required only to provide the police sufficient time to implement regulatory measures aimed at minimising obstructions to public life, rather than to restrict the right to peaceful assembly per se, she said she was shocked that this should happen in Malaysia.

Like Andrea, Mike, also an American, shared the same sentiment that peaceful assembly is a universal right that should be supported. Before being married to the lovely Grace, he said that he was not aware of the political situation in Malaysia at all.

Now, he’s happy to share this cause with his Malaysian wife who looked radiant in an identical Bersih T-shirt, concealing her protruding belly. They’re expecting their first born soon. The couple had travelled more than one hour to be at the march that day.

Grace holds a green card but is unwilling to revoke her citizenship. She’s been catching up on Malaysian news through an online news portal and is obviously concerned about reports on electoral fraud.

She grew up in a politically savvy family in Malaysia and such events are not foreign to her. She certainly didn’t look as if the rally was such a big deal to her as she happily tucked into her fried noodles.

I turned to Lee who was sitting quietly across the table. From her silence, I could sense that she was not too eager to share her “Bersih stories.” This piqued my curiosity even more. After some gentle probing, she confessed that she didn’t want to be visibly seen to support Bersih.

“I just don’t want to get into trouble with the Malaysian embassy, you know. I still rely on them for diplomatic assistance,” she justified herself.

“But why are you here today?” I asked.

She said she attended the march because she was curious but that didn’t eliminate the fear factor for her.

Playing the devil’s advocate, I couldn’t resist asking, “How do you feel though when you see what’s happening today in Malaysia? Hundreds of thousands of people are abandoning their fear to fight for electoral reform. Isn’t that inspirational to you? If they can abandon that fear, why not you?”

She didn’t answer my question immediately. I could see she was weighing my question carefully, possibly not because she didn’t know the answer but how she could respond to me as calmly as possible. Perhaps my question sounded judgmental because when she did finally answer, I could sense tears brimming in her eyes.

I thought I detected a quivering voice when she said, “Malaysians living in Malaysia don’t have to be at the mercy of the government to go on with their livelihood. Not me. I need them to sort out my paperwork here.” A split second later, she quickly added, “I’m living here on my own. What happens if I need the embassy’s help one day? I attend embassy functions occasionally. I know some of the people working there. I, I just don’t want to get into trouble.”

Lee was right. I was being judgmental and as soon as I heard her, I realised that she was conflicted. I thought to myself what kind of a country am I living in when people are afraid of its government even when they are thousands of miles away from it?

“Would you be less fearful if there’s a change in government?” I ventured to ask.

“Yes, yes. I think it would be better,” Lee answered but for now she’s trying her luck to obtain a green card in America.

The conversation soon turned into the green card lottery system, a system that allows 50,000 eligible immigrants to obtain permanent residency annually. Lee then made an announcement that another Malaysian she knows had just recently won the lottery, much to the others’ envy.

Kean changed the conversation by sharing his horror story of the Malaysian consulate in Australia. Married to an Australian, he had gone through hell with the consulate while attempting to sort out the citizenship of his Australian-born child. The consulate had allegedly lost the paperwork and after four years, the process is still pending.

After more than an hour of animated conversation on Lina Joy and what not, I managed to talk to Feng, a post-graduate student, before we left.

“You know, I missed Bersih 1.0. Since then, I told myself I would never miss Bersih 2.0, if it happened again. So, I organised Bersih 2.0 in New York City last year. It was successful and those guys in NYC are really active. They know what to do. Of course, it’s still nothing compared to the students in Australia. They really have guts, courage and passion. More socially active, you know.”

Feng explained that no one from the Bersih Steering Committee had instructed them to start a chapter in New York and Washington DC. It was done independently. The only correspondence ever done with the Bersih Steering Committee was to get the latter to help them with the publicity.

“When [the idea of having a] Global Bersih came up, nobody in the States stepped up. Malaysians who are members of MCA [here] were against it. They said it would tarnish the country’s image. I gave up arguing with them because they wouldn’t listen.”

I asked Feng why those who were present at the march today were mostly of Chinese descent.

“Many Malays are on scholarships. They want to be a part of it but they’re fearful of the repercussions.” He then added quickly: “The same can be asked of Bersih 1.0. Why so few Chinese and Indians? It was mainly the Malays who started Bersih 1.0 but then Bersih 2.0 changed everything. I don’t think it’s valid or fair anymore to ask why only a certain race is fighting for this cause.”

I asked Feng my last question: “Have you ever been asked why you left the country if you love it?”

He laughed at my question and his answer caught me by surprise.

“Who said I love my country? I’m not a patriot. Look at people like Chin Huat and Ambiga. To me, they are the real patriots. They have a choice to leave Malaysia but they didn’t. I’m not a patriot but this seems to be the right thing to do. This is my right and I’m exercising it.”

“And what right is that?” I asked.

“I don’t want other people to fight for me anymore. I want to fight with them. That’s my right.”

Earlier that week, Kean explained that many of the Malaysian diaspora do feel guilty for living abroad. That sense of abandonment does exist. Global Bersih allows them to redeem their guilt by doing something; either by organising a rally, participating in one or simply just to donate money to the cause.

My conversations with my fellow Malaysians in Washington DC taught me something. Being a Malaysian is not necessarily defined by distance, but by spirit and essence. No amount of national ties can be severed if one continues to care about the people whom they’ve left behind and, in their absence, continue to do what they can for the people. For those who’ve asked what have these Malaysians abroad done for the country, perhaps a more valid question to ask is what are the Malaysians in Malaysia doing instead?

Missing out on Bersih 3.0 was totally unplanned. Although I had been critical of the rally’s impact on real electoral reform, I never doubted its tremendous ability to become a national event in the history of the country.

Attending Bersih 2.0 was to me a life-changing experience as a Malaysian. If anything, I felt more Malaysian than any other day that I’ve lived in the country and it gave me a thought — perhaps the younger generation has more difficulty grasping the concept of unity or “Malaysian-ness” as opposed to Malay, Chinese, Indian and “Yang Lain-Lain” is because we never really had to fight for a common purpose together.

Not until then, the fight has always been about who’s getting a bigger piece of the pie and who’s a “pendatang”? Whether or not Bersih has succeeded to achieve its main objectives, I believe that for many, it has taught us a valuable lesson — it’s not always about “them” and “us” but who we are and what we want together as Malaysians. This, unfortunately, is a lesson our education system has sorely failed to impart and uphold.

For those who have constantly upheld the excuse that Bersih has tarnished the country’s image, I urge them to back their statement up with evidence. During the “unconference” I attended, several participants from different countries actually referred to Malaysia as an authoritarian regime. Clearly, it wasn’t the demonstrators who had embarrassed the nation, but what the government is doing to the demonstrators that gave them that impression. Needless to say, I was embarrassed.

When I came home, I gave the only Bersih 3.0 Washington DC T-shirt I could snag up to a friend’s husband who was in Kuantan for work during the rally. I smiled and thought to myself, that’s how connected we all are.

 

Technorati Tags: Malaysian Kopitiam,Washington DC,Global Bersih,Bersih 3.0,Bersih 2.0,Bersih Story,peaceful assembly,Ambiga Sreenevasan,Wong Chin Huat,national unity,Bersih Steering Committee,Lina Joy

When will you wake up?

This post was originally published on The Malaysian Insider on 29 March 2012.

As soon as the digital quacking of ducks pierces the morning silence, it’s time to wake up.

It’s 7am on a Saturday and as usual, I wish for another 30 minutes in bed. While doing so, I deprecate myself for staying up late the night before.

As I drag myself into the kitchen to make a strong pot of coffee, I can’t resist asking, “Why did I sign up for this?”

This early morning scene has become a regular affair. It usually starts with a conversation with myself — mainly made up of questions that can only be answered rationally once I hit the shower.

“Surely I deserve a Saturday off?”

“Why can’t someone else do it?”

“I can always call in sick. It’s not a big deal, is it?”

Driving to the rural areas of Hulu Langat on an early morning is always a welcome change of scenery. The air is fresh, the roads are narrow and winding and the landscape green. The real pleasure though is the people; including those I carpool with. It’s a privileged time when we share conversations about ourselves and, inevitably, of politics and human rights.

It’s always difficult in the beginning when the local residents eye us suspiciously. There’s no doubt that we’re not orang tempatan. We dress, speak and behave differently but I secretly think that it’s the jerseys we wear that really ignite the curiosity in them.

With “UndiMsia!” written in bright orange across our chests, the questions we’re often asked are, “You ni dari gomen ke?”, “Apa ni UndiMalaysia?” “You Pakatankah (or replace this with the other coalition party)?”

It never ceases to amuse me that the word “elect” is always linked to political parties.

First order of the day often involves explaining at length what UndiMsia! does. It’s important to dispel any myth that we’re politically aligned. We’re neither the government, Barisan Nasional, Pakatan Rakyat nor any other political parties that are banned or otherwise. We also need to ensure that the people in Hulu Langat understand the objectives of participating in our Laporan Rakyat project.

The reaction we receive from the people invariably ranges from skepticism and fearful to indifference and encouraging. It’s certainly not an easy task to walk into a random restaurant and expect people to score their state assemblyman and member of Parliament’s performances, not especially when most people we have met have no inkling who their elected representatives are.

While some volunteers faced the disappointment of being turned away like a leper, I’ve had very positive experiences with many people. Sure, I’ve had my share of disappointment but in general the locals have been more than friendly, sympathetic and welcoming.

There are times when I receive warm invitations to share a meal or a drink with them. They always insist on paying. It gets difficult by the third cup of teh tarik that is often never kurang manis but a gracious acceptance is always the courteous thing to do.

There was an occasion when I approached two young women in a mamak restaurant during lunch time. After giving my customary greeting and explanation of the project, they turned down my invitation to conduct the survey on them. It was noon and I was desperate to achieve my quota for the day. They were hungry and couldn’t wait to dig into their lunches that were turning cold on the table.

I resorted to appeal to their sympathy. I told them that I would get into serious trouble with my employer if I didn’t achieve my quota for that day. Their tone of voice softened immediately and they invited me to sit on the table with them. “OK, we’ll answer but please, first order something to eat. It’s lunch time. You must be hungry. We eat together and you can ask us the questions.”

We had the most interesting conversation that day. It was beyond politics and governance. I learned that they have been friends since primary school and they’re renting a house together. According to one of them, they have been inseparable since they’ve known each other.

On another occasion, I had approached a table with five elderly men sharing a drink and banter together. One of them stopped me in mid-sentence, “Amoi, you boleh cakap Melayu atau Cina kah?” Having identified him as of Chinese descent, I informed him that I am able to speak Melayu and Hokkien. He then proceeded to speak in Mandarin and in a childish fashion, nudged the man sitting next to him and said in Malay, “Ahhh… ini Melayu ya. Nampak itu kulit hitam sikit.” They all burst out laughing.

Feeling encouraged, the same man pointed to

another elderly man sitting at the front and said in Mandarin, “He’s an indigenous person living far from here. Eighty-years-old already!” The man flashed me an infectious toothless grin.

As I talked to them in broken Malay and Mandarin, I learned that they’ve all grown up together in this small village.

In answering the first question I ask myself in the morning, these are the motivations that help me leave the comfort of my bed on a Saturday morning. It always ends on a high note.

A few weeks ago when news reached us that a flood had hit Hulu Langat, a team of volunteers led a small relief operation to help some of the victims. Some of the locals have expressed their disappointment at how help has been mobilised too slowly by their local leaders. Many also lamented that nothing much has been done to prevent the flood from recurring from year to year. Another common grievance we heard was how aid from a certain political party has only reached those who support the said party.

The disaster that hit Hulu Langat has reinforced the key messages that UndiMsia! is trying to impart; good governance and citizen actions on housing issues, amongst other things.

On March 31, UndiMsia! is launching a photo competition and exhibition in Hulu Langat. Photographs taken by local youths and some of our volunteers will be exhibited. It is hoped that this humble event will draw the local leaders and community together to discuss housing issues affecting the people in Hulu Langat.

Those who have volunteered for the Laporan Rakyat project will share the sentiments of UndiMsia! There’s much to be done in terms of civic education. More than half of the youths of voting age I’ve met do not know who their elected representatives are or what they’ve done for their community. Even fewer know what they can do as a citizen to improve their lives.

When do you think we, as Malaysians, will finally wake up from our deep slumber?

For more information on UndiMsia!’s Hangatkan Langat! Photo Competition and Exhibition, please click here and for other UndiMsia! projects, please click here.

Technorati Tags: Hulu Langat,UndiMsia!,Barisan Nasional,Pakatan Rakyat,Hangatkan Langat!

Talking ‘bout evolution

This article was first published on The Malaysian Insider on 12 December 2011.

As a child, it was mandatory to obtain Mom and Dad’s permission before I could leave the house. It was also mandatory to inform them of my whereabouts at all time. Thankfully, I was mature enough to understand that the rules were imposed in my best interest. Hence, I followed them without much resistance.

Dad was however, particularly unreasonably strict. He would go to the extent of forbidding me from participating in optional school trips and innocent outings with my cousins. There were times when I would spend days prior to the actual trip obsessing about how I would ask Dad’s permission, only to know that the answer would be a strict no. I would resort to political tactics by using Mom as an ally. Sometimes it worked, but most of the time it ended up in failed negotiations and days of cold war that followed.

You see, Dad is a reclusive and introvert person. He believes in traditional values based on hard work and sacrifices. He believes that one must sacrifice frivolous pursuits and individualistic wants in order to maintain harmony and achieve academic and professional success. He also believes that if you release a horse’s rein, the horse will go wild and never return once it has tasted freedom.

So I grew up feeling in awe and at the same time resentful of Dad. I respect and admire him for his integrity and honourable pursuits and yet I can never agree with this particular principle of his that restriction is necessary to keep a person from straying. Perhaps, that is one of the reasons why I’ve become fiercely independent and suffocate under authoritative environment.

A couple of months ago, I had the opportunity of accompanying a group of young American fellows on a private tour of Malacca. The tour guide was an elderly man who takes great pride in his origin as a bona fide Malaccan. He was the perfect person for the job as he was knowledgeable, passionate and eloquent in his narrations.

I was particularly amused by his footnotes, some of which were not entirely relevant to the purpose of that tour. You see, he avidly shared his strong condemnation of the government’s destructions of historical monuments and treatment of indigenous people. He was a sympathiser when it came to the topic of corruption and he even claimed that he works closely with indigenous tribes to protect their lands. You could see that he abhors some of the government’s policies and was not ashamed to express it, even before a group of foreigners.

After the tour, a few of us, including the elderly gentleman, stopped at on old-fashioned coffee shop on Jonker Street to have coffee. I brought up the subject of the Bersih 2.0 rally in the most innocent of manner and asked what he thought about it.

Indeed, he got pretty heated up but to my surprise, he was extremely critical of the demonstrators. He said that he did not condone the rally at all. He agreed that dissent is necessary but definitely not Bersih 2.0’s method of choice. He argued fervently that assembly of any kind in protest of the government is not the Malaysian way. National harmony must not be compromised at all cost.

When asked what else could be done if all diplomatic negotiations have failed, he was unable to produce a convincing answer. When asked how a peaceful assembly can be harmful, he struggled to articulate his thoughts. His point of argument was solely from a cultural perspective. It’s simply not the Malaysian way of doing things.

I found the juxtaposition of his contrasting views intriguing and could only conclude that he belongs to an older generation of Malaysians who still hold on to certain traditional values that are simply too strong to let go.

There are lessons to be learned from these two stories. I grew up in a generation that places greater value and appreciation for human rights and liberty as result of economic progress and globalisation. We are no longer isolated from the rest of the world and hence, are able to evaluate, compare and conclude for ourselves that respect for human rights and true democracy is fundamental towards progress and human evolution. Some would say that this is solely a Western concept but seriously so what? Isn’t it naïve to say that we want to be as progressive as Sweden but only insofar as its economy is concerned but not its form of democracy? Isn’t the very piece of garment worn by most Malaysians on a daily basis influenced by Western fashion? Besides, honestly what is the Malaysian way? Is the Malaysian culture based on corruption and abuse of power?

Democracy and respect for human rights is synonymous to progress. Brutal killing as a form of entertainment in a gladiator arena is a thing in the past. Child abuse and gender discrimination are now prohibited by our laws and they were not plucked out of thin air. It would be extremely foolish of the government to believe that all Malaysians of my generation would be content with just economic progress and half assed implementation of selected rights according to their whims and fancies.

Nature would dictate that human beings will continuously fight for their own survival. Once they’ve succeeded in that, they will move on to fight for freedom and progress. It’s called evolution and has been historically proven by the fall of great dictatorial empires.

Some would argue that there are those who genuinely reject progress and it’s only a selected few who impose on them the notion of progress. As true as it may be, the key word here is choice.

Dad’s method of discipline was wrong. If I had in any way betrayed his trust, he would have the right to punish me, but not to restrict me from the very start. The same applies to those who want to go on a peaceful street protest. It may not be everyone’s cup of tea but that choice must be presented to those who have the desire to do so. Punish those who abuse that right but not those who want to exercise that right responsibly.

Evolution is part of nature and it will happen whether we want it or not. There comes a time when every child will want to grow up to become a free adult. The question is when and how. This is something the government must think about.

Technorati Tags: Malacca,Bersih 2.0,peaceful assembly,democracy,gladiator,evolution,Peaceful Assembly Bill 2011

The truth shall set you free

This post was originally posted by The Malaysian Insider on 4 July 2011.

Whenever I flush the toilet at home, my cat, often seen lazing on the floor would spring to her feet and run for her life. It’s obvious that the sudden sound of rushing water petrifies her tremendously. 

Sometimes, out of strange habit, I find myself warning her that I will be flushing the toilet in false hope that she would not get agitated. I used to think that once she gets accustomed to the noise, she would get over her unreasonable fear.

I’ve had her for more than two years and each time I flush the toilet, it still has the same effect on her, with or without my warning. 

It then dawns on me that my cat will continue to have this fear simply because she is unable to comprehend what is happening. There’s nothing I can do about it for how does one explain to a cat what a flushing mechanism is?

Life is full of fears. We fear for our safety, we fear for our future, we fear humiliation and we fear death but what we probably fear the most is what we don’t know, just like my cat. 

In the past weeks, the government has been carrying out a campaign to instill fear in the rakyat. We have been warned that if we participate in the Bersih campaign, we will be committing a crime and as result of that, our freedom will be taken away.

It is quite understandable that every reasonable person will be frightened by this knowledge. If the most fearsome thing in this world is indeed ignorance, why are we then still afraid despite knowing the consequences of our actions? 

Many people have asked me whether I am afraid. The simple truth is, yes I am but not so much of what will happen in the next couple of days, but of what will become of our beloved country if we continue to allow the government to intimidate us.

Knowing what might happen to my security and freedom is only half as scary as not knowing the fate of our country and the future of young Malaysians. 

Great religions and nations teach us to stand up for the truth. Our government teaches us otherwise. When a government becomes the main agent provocateur of fear and at the same time warns its people that they will be guilty for provoking fear and instability, something is fundamentally wrong. 

So far, the real culprit for instilling fear and provocation seems to be coming from the government, not those who choose to wear yellow T-shirts, blow bubbles into the air, carry yellow balloons and walk peacefully on their streets on July 9. The colour yellow does not provoke, but public threats of arrest and detention do. 

A few days ago, I confessed to a friend that what’s happening in Malaysia stresses me more than what I had experienced in Afghanistan, Ethiopia and Cambodia. He was surprised and wanted to know why. My answer to him, “Because this is not supposed to happen here. You expect it to happen in those countries but not here.” 

What most people don’t seem to understand is how fundamentally tragic and wrong it is to be ruled by a government that imposes arbitrary laws that go against the core principles of human rights and to add salt to the wound, resist the call by its people for free and fair election. I’ve seen it in Afghanistan, Ethiopia and Cambodia and sadly, Malaysia seems to have hopped on the bandwagon. 

Some friends have argued with me that Malaysia is far better off than these countries. I was asked to evaluate our economy and told that I should come to the conclusion that we are better off. I’m reminded that we’re blessed for having a government that promotes economic growth and I should just be grateful. 

It would be a persuasive argument but for the nagging question that if a man provides for his family, does it entitle him to do whatever he wants with them? Are they saying that if their father has looked after their welfare, then surely they should be able to forgive him for raping their sister? 

These days when I walk on the street, I look over my shoulders, not for snatch thieves but for the police. When an innocent citizen feels threatened by the very people they depend on for protection, something is wrong.

When an anxious child who is afraid of the dark is being told that monsters will come after them when the light is turned off, something is wrong. If you still don’t know how to differentiate who the real coward and culprit is in this situation we’re facing today, then shame on you for refusing to believe and see the truth. You’re not a cat and you should know better.

For close to half a century, we have been living in fear. I’ve seen that fear in my parents and friends. I’ve experienced how we have conditioned ourselves to lower our voices when we talk about “sensitive” issues.

I’ve seen how people disguise themselves as someone they’re not simply because they believe it is safer to live a lie than to face the truth. The only credit the government can ever claim is that they’ve run a pretty successful campaign, thanks to us.

We’ve come to a crossroad where we either rise above our fear or allow it to perpetuate for generations to come.

Plato once said, “We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.” 

We have been living this real tragedy for far too long. 

Technorati Tags: Bersih,Plato

, Afghanistan, Ethiopia, Cambodia, Yellow

The unsung heroes of Malaysia

Originally posted on The Malaysian Insider under the title “Reconnecting with one’s identity” on 24 April 2011.

The year was 1996.

I was 15 years younger and also 15kg lighter (if only they are both inversely related).

My only worries were to pass my examinations and for the boy whom I had a huge crush on to give me his time of the day. In my mind, we would have beautiful babies together.

The thought of returning home never occurred to me but it didn’t stop me from being an active member of the Malaysian Student Society. United Kingdom seemed far better off then.

Although it has been 15 years, I still think about the days when we, the Malaysian students, put up a swashbuckling performance at the annual Malaysian Evening gala. We did Malaysia proud by being hospitable, warm and friendly ambassadors. Our enthusiasm and solidarity were infectious and we built friendships that transcend ethnicity and religious affiliations through those years.

I miss the days when the Malay-Boys-Who-Can-Sing-And-Play-Music living downtown would invite my friend and I for home-cooked fish head curries. Apparently the fishmonger next door were selling the discarded heads for peanuts and like monkeys, we devoured every single morsel with much gusto and appreciation.

We also had a Malay friend who could measure the saltiness of his girlfriend’s satay sauce just by sniffing at it. Hers was the best satay sauce I have ever tasted. To reciprocate, my friend and I would make popiah and to our great surprise, they were well-received.

I mustn’t forget our one and only Indian Malaysian student. He was known as the quiet and shy guy who was joined at the hips by two other Chinese Malaysian students. They were really nice because they never forget to celebrate my birthday when I was alone during Easter holiday.

That was the only time when I remember being Malaysian.

15 years later, I am older and the questions running through my mind are of a different nature.

Would my marriage survive? Will I become a mother? Have I done enough for my ageing parents? Would I be able to afford a vacation in the North Pole so that I can see the polar bears? Would I die for my country? Would Malaysia ever change?

At 35, I have become cynical and resentful of so many things in life. What is certain is that the years gone by have served as a cruel reminder of how brutal time and poor eating habit can be.

Having worked and lived in four war-torn countries has somehow contributed a lot to my increasing lack of faith and respect for humankind. Although Malaysia is not at war, apathetic Malaysians combined with a morally corrupted government do very little to change my perception of human beings.

At the end of the day, I deduce we’re all just the same.

That changed on 2 April 2011 at Fort Cornwallis, Penang.

Perhaps it’s true that everything does happen for a reason. What happened for me was to leave my cushy life as an expatriate’s wife and to accept the challenging task of helping Malaysians understand the Federal Constitution. And the reason? I desperately needed to restore my faith as a Malaysian again.

The “Rock for Rights” concert organised by Bar Council’s MyConstitution Campaign, Saya Anak Bangsa Malaysia and Frinjan on 2 April, reminded me of the semangat Malaysia I felt 15 years ago, but only better as I didn’t have to be in a foreign land to feel that I belong.

While working on this project, I got to know many Malaysians from very different walks of life and was privileged to learn from them. Many of them are either students or hold regular jobs such as teaching, marketing, public relations, writing, computer programming, event planning, environmentalist and lawyer.

Being an amateur who struggled to put together a concert, the bands and those involved were understanding, patient and forgiving. Many of them were just grateful that they had this rare opportunity to share their artistic talent as musicians and message as Malaysians. They are clearly no ordinary bands as they were not driven by monetary gain but only by their passion as musicians and Malaysians.

I asked Darren Teh from An Honest Mistake why they had decided to participate in this project.

He replied “We want to bring our music to the next level which is to cause change in someone’s life. Being part of this project helps us achieve that. When people listen to our song and knowing the reason behind the lyrics, it helps them connect with us ‘emotionally’. Besides that, knowing that we are adding value to the community, raising awareness of our rights and educating them through music – we are going beyond the boundaries of music, beyond just simple listening pleasure. We are proud to have been part of this entire project.”

I asked Petak Daud, an 18 year-old musician who stunned the crowd with his soft acoustic renditions of songs that speak loudly against the abuse of power by the police and government, what gave him the courage to sing such songs. He said, “The situation surrounding us is becoming worse. We’re like decomposing fleshes which in a matter of time will disappear altogether. This is my mission. I want to wake Malaysians up so that they can see the abuse taking place in this country.”

If a seemingly shy 18 year-old boy who unwittingly scratches his hair while he speaks on stage has the courage to sing such songs, why are most of us still keeping silent?

Azmyl Yunor has a theory – shopping malls and capitalism. According to him, Malaysia’s rapid economic growth over the last three decades has metamorphosised us from being Malaysians to creatures who are continuously motivated by economic gain above everything else. Before we could truly understand who we are as a nation, we occupy our time by shopping.

I told Azmyl that I was shocked by how passive the crowd was at Fort Cornwallis. While some of us cheered and danced to the music, many kept their seats warm by just watching without any expression on their faces. He smiled at my observation and shared his other theory of self-censorship.

Decades of living in a country where preventive laws and religious teachings are imposed have taught us that freedom of expression is vulgar and wrong. He said music is a form of escape. He wouldn’t be caught dead screaming on top of his lungs and rolling on the floor under normal circumstances.

The night was high when Barcode got everyone up to sing the Negaraku. I was exhilarated and I sang our anthem like how most kids would sing to Justin Bieber these days. And like the cool night breeze that provided us with much comfort, the affirmation that I love Malaysia came.

Ammar Khairi from Maharajah Commission shared similar sentiments. He said, “I sincerely hope that there will be many more patriotic souls in Malaysia as opposed to nationalists or even worse, haters. The difference is, a patriotic person would give out his heart and soul for the country and yet continually criticise constructively for a better Malaysia, whereas nationalistic pride is nothing more than waving the flag and declare your allegiance blindly and accepting everything that is told to you by the powers-that-be as the supreme truth.”

Later that night, the party continued. We, the Malaysians, shared and celebrated our identity by laughing and dancing the night away. Fellow columnist, June Rubis who flew in all the way from Sarawak to be our emcee (and to be starved as she emceed for 12 hours straight), screamed on top of her lungs, “I love you, you and you!” She whispered to me and said she would do it all over again.

I stayed high for the next couple of days. 15 years is a long wait after all.

Technorati Tags: Rock for Rights,Bar Council,MyConstitution Campaign,Frinjan,Saya Anak Bangsa Malaysia,Azmyl Yunor,An Honest Mistake,Maharajah Commission,Petak Daud,Barcode,Fort Cornwallis,Penang,June Rubis

Rocking for rights

This was first posted at The Malaysian Insider under the title “The message is in the song” on 13 March 2011.

Bob Marley once sang these famous words:

Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery

None but ourselves can free our minds

Have no fear for atomic energy

Cause none of them can stop the time

I wonder whether he was high on weed when he was writing those words. Whether he was or wasn’t, this song went on to become one of the most iconic songs for those who value freedom, particularly of the mind.

This article is about political expression in music. But before anyone jumps into conclusion that this is going to be an anti-government propaganda, here’s an interesting fact. Politics and music are not just about anti-establishment, anti-war or peaceful expression of protest against any form of government or political ideology. It can also be pro-establishment such as seen in the national anthem or patriotic songs.

So, if anyone starts criticising that music with political theme is evil, let’s be reminded that the Negaraku, which contains the lyrics Raja kita selamat bertakhta, is a song that all primary and secondary school students are compelled to sing first thing in the morning in schools.

I’ve always thought that political expression in music is a fairly recent phenomenon. When I think about music and politics, I usually picture half a million demonstrators gathered at Washington D.C and sang Give Peace a Chance by John Lennon in peaceful protest of the Vietnam War in 1969.

I was, of course proven wrong when I google searched and discovered that classical composers such as Beethoven, Verdi, Shostakovich, Stravinsky, just to name a few, have been known to compose music that had either abhorred foreign domination or venerated a particular regime. We, who live in this modern era, tend to identify more with singers and bands such as Bob Dylan, John Lennon, The Clash, U2, Rage Against the Machine, Bob Marley, Sex Pistols and many others when it comes to expressing political messages through music.

When it comes to spreading and sharing messages, nothing has been quite as effective as music, which explains why Christians still sing praises to God and the Taliban banned it in Afghanistan.

Music can either reinforce a message, or destroy it; depending on which side you’re looking from. After all, music is a manifestation of freedom and for some, this is something to be feared of.

In 1990, a non-profit and non-partisan organisation called Rock the Vote emerged in the United States of America to attract the seriously declining youth population to register as voters and to vote in the election. Its modus operandi is none other than music, popular culture and new technologies. The campaign was so successful that the percentage of registered young voters increased by 20% within 2 years since its inception. In 2004, more than 1.2 million youths registered as voters on its website. I believe wide participation by celebrity spokesperson such as Christina Aguilera, Robert Downey Jr., Leonardo DiCaprio and Justine Timberlake plays a part in making this campaign a major hit.

In 2004, rapper Sean “P Diddy” Combs, led a not-for-profit organisation called Citizen Change responsibled for the campaign called Vote or Die. In the 2004 US elections, the campaign attracted 20.9 million young voters from the age of 18 to 29; a staggering change from the 16.2 million young voters in 2000. This inevitably helped to raise the overall percentage of voters in America in 2004.

Today, I want to write about a somewhat similar campaign in Malaysia but without the violence. Nobody is going to die but hopefully many will start to vote.

I learn that there are 27 million Malaysians, 11 million voters, 4 million more eligible Malaysians who haven’t registered to vote. I also learn that we have a Federal Constitution that guarantees all of us rights, freedoms and a democratic system of government that answers to us. But the question is: how many Malaysians know this?

The information above can be found on the CD inlay of Radio Demokratika, a music album produced by the Bar Council’s MyConstitution Campaign in conjunction with its Elections and Democracy theme. Some of you may have seen the eye-catching pocket-sized booklets that contain a wealth of information pertaining to the Federal Constitution produced by the Campaign, but this music album has only been making its debut just recently.

Last Saturday, amidst a decent crowd of more than 200 people, the album was launched at Pekan Frinjan 18, a regular event organised by Frinjan at Dataran Shah Alam. Close to 100 copies of the album was sold within that couple of hours, especially after an electrifying live performances by some of the bands.

Radio Demokratika features 12 original songs written and performed by 12 local independent bands. I was told that names such as Azmyl Yunor, Carburetor Dung, amongst others, are infamous in the underground music scene and no strangers to many urban youths since more than two decades ago.

There are many strong qualities about this album. Apart from the obvious fact that the songs are mainly about the Federal Constitution and socio-political issues that concern Malaysian youths such as inter-racial relationships, freedom of expression and political responsibilities, it has huge potential to unite youths from all racial divide and in so doing, encourage them to play a role in making Malaysia a better place to live.

As I listen to the lyrics of one of the songs that goes like this:

We’ll be the change that our nation needs to see

We’ll turn the dream into reality to be

A land that’s peaceful and strong

Which fights for right against wrong

And all of its people united and free!

I’ve begun to realise that this is precisely what this Campaign has hoped for.

There is no doubt that this Campaign can never achieve the same kind of magnitude that Rock the Vote or Vote or Die have achieved but make no mistake that it has great potential, with your support.

There is nothing more refreshing than this campaign as you flip through the morning headlines that write about nothing but what Barisan Nasional or Pakatan Rakyat have or have not done. The Campaign does not speak about political parties but only political issues.

Mahatma Gandhi once said: "The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated."

I’ll say that the greatness of a truly democratic nation can be judged by how well we have emancipated ourselves from mental slavery.