It’s been more than a month since Dr Mahathir Muhammad made this blazing comment that drew strong responses from the Malay community here. But I’ve ignored it because it wasn’t worth commenting until now. You see, Tun may no longer be Prime Minister, and he’s not even an MP, but he’s still an UMNO member, and in his own words “I’m a politician, through and through”. So what he said was simply for political mileage and to drive home the point to vote UMNO.

Why was it picked up by the media and regurgitated across the causeway? Because his comments critiqued Singapore.

Anyone who criticizes a country that he is not a citizen of, especially if he’s a politician will definitely raise furore. Take for example MM Lee’s blazing generalised comment over Taiwanese and Hong Kongers. I’m certain the Chinese over there would take offense at being called such things.

But what I’d like to comment on is Singapore’s Berita Harian’s editor, Guntor Sadali’s speech at the Anugerah Jauhari BH 2010 (Malay Achiever of the Year Award) (PDF file) and perhaps some corrections to point out to Dr M (hey, I’ve got to be fair no?).

It was well written. It gave me a feel good aftertaste. It was rhetorical. And that’s just it.

This award, what it means, what it represents, is rhetorical. It’s to tell our Malays in Singapore that it’s ok that we don’t need to secure political power to safeguard our interests. We just need knowledge, here and there, and that would mean we’re powerful, and here’s someone who did just that.

I don’t disagree with Mr Guntor on many of his points. But I don’t think being a minority has anything to do with being different in our mindsets and outlook. Take for example the 2 Koreas or China/Taiwan. They are of the same race, but their mindset and outlook is clearly quite different. So our difference in attitudes has nothing to do with the numbers within our population.

Singaporean Malays are different out of culture. We have always been that way since pre-separation times. Many of our former residents travelled down here to make a living because Singapore was the most vibrant out of all the 14 Malaysian states. We were, in the words of the first Malaysian Prime Minister, Tunku Abdul Rahman, the New York of Malaysia and KL was its Washington DC. And clearly, New Yorkers are very different from their DC cousins. As it stands today, Johor Malays are in fact very different from Kelantan Malays and you can make the same observations as you travel state-by-state. Malays are not the same, whether in Singapore, Johor, KL or Sabah.

But what exactly is this Singaporean Malay attitude? Are we independent? Are we competitive? Are we self-reliant? Are we meritocratic?

To suggest any of these things does not define the entire Malay population in Singapore. In fact, these traits are common in every ethnicity you can find here. It doesn’t make us Malays in Singapore more competitive than the average Malay-Malaysian simply because Singapore has a kiasu culture. Neither does it make Chinese-Singaporeans more self-reliant simply because the government does its majority race no favours.

We are who we are because we were forced out of a Federation of Malaysia, and became a sovereign nation without the consent of its people. We had to survive. Tunku probably thought that it would make Lee Kuan Yew so unpopular that it would cause the PAP’s downfall because how can Singapore, the pride of Malaysia, with its vibrancy, the Movie capital of South-East Asia, the trading centre of the Peninsula, the beacon of non-censorship at the time (Malay intellectuals flocked to Singapore because we did not practise censorship as with the other UMNO-ruled states), and a pride of the University of Malaya with its outstanding Medical College be separate from its motherland? To Singapore Malaysians, now Singaporeans, it must have been unthinkable. It probably still was for some time. But we got used to sovereignty as Singapore nation, rather than a Malaysian one, and eventually, not only did we survive, we prospered, and so did our Malaysian brethren. So to suggest Malaysia wasn’t competitive would be a fallacy. We’re bitter rivals.

The premise of Dr Mahathir’s comments was one based on political influence. We were formerly part of Malaysia, and Malays here in Singapore (like anywhere else in Malaysia) had significant political advantage simply for being Malay. His whole point on warning Malaysian Malays that PAS and PKR is causing the Malay electorate to lose its political advantage as an ethnic ruling elite, would throw the Malays in Malaysia into a state of zero power, just like Singapore Malays.

If he left it at that, well, isn’t it true? Malays in Singapore have no political advantage. Meritocracy did not give us enough influence not just to safeguard our communal interests, but also to maintain and prosper them.

But the honourable Tun had to say “kowtow to the Chinese”. I can understand how Singapore Malays are angry at this. In fact, we are upset at only this part of his statement, because it’s a sweeping generalisation. Just like how MM Lee’s generalisation on Taiwanese and Hong Kongers drew much flak.

But what’s wrong with this statement, and what is right with it?

Firstly, Malay Singaporeans are equal citizens to Chinese Singaporeans. We’re equal in terms of citizenship, and therefore, this equality makes us Malays inherit equal rights to Chinese Singaporeans. Malays and Chinese here have the same rights. So no, we don’t kowtow to the Chinese at all simply for being citizens of our cili padi nation.

Secondly, meritocracy gave us Malays a chance to compete for the best education, the best jobs, the best everything. So if we have Malays who excel, they excelled because they truly deserved it. Not because my government gave me preferential treatment. That’s not an achievement worth bragging.

So what’s right with Dr M’s statement?

We’re a minority. In a democracy, especially one without representative parliament like ours, we don’t carry equal influence to protect, preserve and further our communal interests. Malays are by definition of our own constitution, the rightful indigenous people of Singapore. Article 152(2) and (3) specifically bestows the Government of Singapore, the responsibility to protect, preserve and further the Malay people’s language, culture and religion and to ensure the well-being and education of its people.

However, this is what I’d call political baggage. Our constitution was derived from the Constitution of Malaysia. In fact, if you compare the 2 country’s constitution, you would find that they are almost similar to each other. If our ethos are about merit without regards to race, language or religion, then why keep this clause? It is, perhaps an appeasement tactic to pacify the Malays that the Government will not ignore the interests of the Malays despite no longer being of political influence. And Lee Kuan Yew himself ensured that with the creation of Majlis Ugama Islam Singapura through the Administration of Muslim Law Act, to take care of the religious affairs of the Malays, the only religion in Singapore to have this privilege to have a government vehicle.

But you must understand, in exchange for these privileges, what must the Malays of Singapore give in return to the PAP? Obviously, like everyone else who votes for the incumbent, it’s silent compliance, and therefore, kowtow. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out where Singapore Malays, in terms of language, in terms of the extent of its freedom to practise their religion, and in terms of how much the state is willing to further the progress its traditional culture is hampered.

Is this definitive of Singapore Malays? Dr Mahathir, with all respect (I do really respect you sir), you are mistaken. It is definitive of all Singaporeans who decides to reap the benefits of PAP rule. I am sure that if a Malay Malaysian votes for you, they will kowtow to you too. Just because you fight for Malay rights, does not mean you are not the Masters of the Malays themselves. In fact, UMNO, the party of royalists, have shown to preserve titah tuanku more than it preserves the interests of Malays themselves. Of course, only you sir, being the first commoner PM, have had the audacity to try to reduce the political influence of the royalty during your term in office. But how else can you explain this trend of Malay Malaysians choosing to vote the opposition?

But I agree. We should not be like Singapore Malays. We have problems like a below-average pass rate at every level of examinations (heck, we can’t even be average!), broken and low-income families, Malays in prison, Malays in financial desperation, Malays without homes, and so many other social problems that seem to creep up every year under this often, uncaring, meritocratic rule. And who comes to save the day? Sir, we do. Just like you, Malays help themselves. Unlike you, we don’t have the resources. When Singapore Malays do have success, are we the best? Hardly. That’s why awards like Anugerah Jauhari is a feel good award. It’s to help us be less angry. It’s a corrective policy the same way NEP is a corrective policy, so the irony in Guntor’s speech is how the premise of this award seems very much the intent of creating the illusion of a successful Malay community. But not to take away the shine and glimmer of this year’s winner, Mr Shafie Samsudin definitely deserved this award in my book. For Mr Shafie, he deserves every bit of this award. For the Malay community as a whole however, just because we share in his success, doesn’t mean we had anything to do with it.

The Malays here may have equal rights. But we as a people (as with you over there), never started on an equal platform in the first place after centuries and centuries of regressive colonial rule. So I can understand the intent of your corrective economic policies. What I don’t understand is why are you obsessed about the quantity of wealth afforded to the Malays, when you should be more focused on the quality of Malays regardless of their income. I’m certain, a poor Malay is not a lesser Malay than a wealthier one.

What’s the point of a wealthy Malay? For what? To prevent Malays from being unhappy that another race gets wealthier at the expense of Malay land? Sir, the Chinese in Singapore don’t own a lot of land either. It is not Chinese land to begin with. It’s indigenous Malay land. But they get rich anyway. If wealth or the lack of it makes a Malay unhappy, it is not the Chinese we should be angry at. It’s us for not taking advantage of being given such preferential treatment. Despite the Chinese Malaysians having limited access to government contracts, they’re still richer than Malay Malaysians. So who are we, Singapore Malays angry at? Definitely not the Chinese.

Every morning reciting the pledge, repeating every word, instilled in me a belief of the greatness of this nation. When I grew up, everywhere I turned, I had friends of different races and faiths. I could go to the mainstream PAP kindergarten in the mornings and I also went to the mosque kindergarten in the afternoon. I was exposed to different customs and languages and I had the opportunity to bask in the rich multi-racial flavour of our nation.

“Pledge ourselves as One United People, Regardless of Race, Language or Religion…”, I oathed. Every pledge taking ceremony, this line mattered to me most.

This was what made me different. Whether you’re Malay, Chinese or Indian, this is what makes us different from our ancestral nations. Chinese law states that you must be ethnically Chinese to be a citizen of (PRC) China. In Malaysia, non-Malays don’t get Bumiputera rights. And in India, while you could now naturalise as an Indian citizen, one needs to be a resident of India for at least 11 years. Of course, it would be quite difficult to find Indian citizens of non-Indian ethnicity in India though there is evidence of mixed ethnicity due to the large diaspora of Indians who have since returned.

But in Singapore, no matter what colour your skin is, what language you speak, or what religion you profess (or not), you are always welcome. So long as you pledge yourself as One United People.

The British Surrender

I used to frequent Johor as a child. I have relatives in a kampong at Jalan Setanggi. I remember one morning when my cousin and I talked about our countries, and learnt what it was like in our different countries. I was curious what it was like living in my ancestral land. I asked what was school like, and what they do in school. And we suddenly broke into patriotic competition. We’d sing our national anthems and we’d recite our pledges. I was a darn proud Singaporean but I respected my Malaysian cousins for what they have.

We don’t have kampongs anymore. Gotong-royong is still alive across the border. Here, it’s a different story. We exchanged our simple pleasures for the ones provided to a metropolis. Without the Internet, we wouldn’t know what to do with our time, as evident when I made my trips to Malaysia and Indonesia. Or perhaps, the connectedness with our virtual reality is a way for us to escape the realities of life.

I remember in one of my trips to my cousin’s kampong, I flipped through their photo albums, and in one of them, I discovered a historical relic. There slit behind the clear plastic was a Japanese banana note.

This was a time when Singapore was a significant part of Malaya. What Singapore went through, is shared with our brothers up north. This was a time when you could cross the causeway without a passport. A time when Singapore residents got along with each other, no matter what race.

The table where the surrender negotiations happened

“I want you to surrender without conditions! We shall stop all firing by 0700 hrs ” said General Yamashita to the British officers, led by General Percival. Percival tried to negotiate a later end to hostilities so that there would be enough time to destroy all British government documents. It was a convenient solution for them. Our men battled at the front, bled and died. And they raised their hands in surrender to save their lives.

What Percival didn’t know was that Yamashita was forcing the British to accept a quick surrender as the Japanese had almost run out of ammo and supplies, and had far less men than the Allies.

Had the British any idea of the custom of Ta’at Setia, Singapore as with the rest of Malaya would not have fallen to the Japanese. It was a war of attrition. A war which apparently was in our favour to win, despite the odds and the well-trained Japanese army.

Percival nodded, eventually agreeing to the Japanese terms. “I want to hear from your mouth that you agree to the unconditional surrender!” demanded Yamashita. Percival said in a dejected tone, “Yes, I, on behalf of the British and Allied forces in Singapore and Malaya, agree to surrender and stop all hostilities at the agreed upon time”.

Malay women used as comfort workers turning Geylang into a Red-light district

And then began 3 years of military internment for all in Malaya and Singapore. The Japanese used the British system of administration by race. Colonial master to colonial master, race was seen as an efficient way to administer its territory and subjects. The Chinese would suffer the worst from the racial discrimination of the Japanese. Chinese men were executed at random. They were tortured, and mutilated. Shot and bayoneted.

Every race was used differently by the new colonial masters. The Chinese were treated worse than animals. The Indians were to be re-used as soldiers to fight for the Japanese against British India. But the Japs weren’t quite sure of what to do with the Malays, so they tried to put them to work as labourers in place of the Chinese to revitalise the Japanese administered Syonan and Malayan economy.

Despite the better treatment to the other races, the Japs didn’t pay well. Inflation soared and life was hard. Everyone suffered under the Japanese. Food was rationed and the Japanese encouraged planting our own crops. But hard as it was to buy anything to plant, the only cheap crop was tapioca.

Zaman Ubi Kayu

My uncle described how it was like under the Japanese. “Zaman Jepun, kita takde apa-apa nak makan. Semua mahal. Ubi Kayu aje lah.”

I couldn’t quite imagine eating just tapioca.

“Kalau dapat ayam tu masa raya je. Tak macam zaman sekarang, hari-hari makan ayam,” he continued explaining how luxurious our life is today.

“Duit Pisang ni, jangan di bawak keluar. Ni lah kenangan Zaman Ubi Kayu tu,” he ended his short story about the hardships of war.

I could not help being reminded of the Banana Note as I crossed back the causeway into Singapore. No one in class had ever seen a real Banana Note. Most of my friends in class were Chinese.

And then it struck me. Of course none of them had seen it. Most of them were killed. And these memories were too painful for their grandparents to have. Why would they keep a relic of the past that reminded them of the discrimination against them?

I don’t have fond memories of my time in PAP kindergarten. As much as I appreciated being exposed to the richness of multi-racial cultures, my best memories were the afternoons at mosque kindergarten. Mostly because after lessons, we got to play at the neighbourhood playground, supervised by our teacher. I learnt the same things in mosque kindergarten, except for Chinese language and the ritualistic Islam that were taught to me.

Why? Because I enjoyed mosque kindergarten. People were nice to me, and we had lots of fun. We were taught Malay and English but were mostly instructed in English. At PAP kindergarten, we didn’t get to play. But it was ok. I made some friends there, mostly Chinese. For a kid, if you had a friend, it was fine.

Malay students learning Japanese under occupation

But what made my time there least memorable was how I was discriminated as a non-Chinese speaker. Everyone was expected to take the same subjects. And even if you were a Malay or Indian, you had to learn Chinese. Other mother tongues were not offered yet because the resources were not yet available.

I couldn’t understand a single thing in Chinese class. The teacher kept speaking Chinese! I sat at the back everytime she came in, and she often gave me the least attention. Perhaps, she didn’t think Chinese was important to me. But I tried hard to absorb whatever was taught in class. I didn’t care what the mother tongue was, passing was very important to me!

In my 2 years there, all I understood were the words “mouth” and “people”, mostly because of the gestures and the occasional slip into English. I could write those words too and I was proud of it. But what I couldn’t do was pass Chinese. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t because firstly, my Chinese friends spoke to me in English, and secondly but most importantly, my Chinese teacher did not give me the desired attention of a non-native Chinese speaker. So only knowing those 2 words, imagine how shocked I was when I arrived for school to take an exam. Apparently, even the words “exam” was instructed in Chinese, and I was hardly prepared.

Like the British, and the Japanese masters, this one Chinese teacher didn’t know what to do with the Malay boy sitting by the window. She probably thought I was lazy for not studying hard enough, but I tried very hard to get along. I’m a Singaporean! Regardless of race and language remember?

Malays were given free education under the Japanese to prepare them for economic revival.

Mum was mad at me for failing Chinese. Mum, a Malay lady, mad at me for failing a language I hardly spoke at the age of 5 or 6? I rebutted Mum, “It’s not MY language!”, only as a frustration of how difficult it was to pass the darn thing when my teacher did not make the effort to teach me well. I aced all other subjects, so don’t tell me I was stupid or lazy!

And then, primary school came and I was introduced to the pledge. I already understood the national anthem. It was in Malay! I felt patriotic everytime I sang it, because I understood what it meant. This is my country, and I was singing my anthem in my language! In a way, I pitied my Chinese friends who struggled learning the anthem and could never quite get the words right. I was there before just a year ago, never understanding what was it I was asked to mouth during Chinese lessons. We were an anglicised society and my generation no longer had Malay as the lingua franca. We were asked to preserve our individual community’s languages and customs, maintaining Malay as the only official language at the risk of it being used only for ceremony, whilst using English as a common tongue even though our former British masters had left us to our doom during the war.

The only thing that bonded us, that we often used as inspiration, was the pledge. It was the only thing we understood as One People. In a country where we sing Majulah Singapura, perhaps our disconnectedness from our anthem is a way for us to escape the realities of Singapore life. Maybe we could do better if “One United People, Regardless of Race, Language or Religion”, meant that we embraced each other’s cultures and languages, and treat them as part of our own. Have we surrendered too much of our heritage and our common sense for the sake of “progress and prosperity for our nation”?

Memories at Old Ford Factory. Where the British surrendered.

(End of Part 3)