Migration

This blog has moved. Drop me an email.

Hiatus and Clarifications

I’m back from my working holiday and about to take another hiatus. Since recent events have suddenly made my statements/opinions/even me myself controversial, I feel I need to clarify some things first.

With regards to the use of the word apartheid: to me, any race based political system that significantly disenfranchises and divides is apartheid. This doesn’t necessarily mean it is analogous to South African apartheid. I have chosen to use this word in a few circumstances, and as a journalist friend says, most of the controversy boils down to semantics. That others may disagree on its definition (this is similar to the lawyer P Uthayakumar’s use of the term “ethnic cleansing”, as said friend also pointed out) is a given. To me, however, it seems an appropriate word, with a margin for writerly hyperbole.

Which brings me to the next point: never have I claimed to represent anyone but myself and my own observations. I am not an activist for race issues in Malaysia. Neither am I an expert on politics, race theory or law. I am not affiliated to any group. I am a writer with a blog, and that is all. I happen to blog about whatever strikes my fancy. I may be serious on some days, irreverent on others. I do not even regard the writing on my blog as journalism, unless I happen to post articles I have written for publications (I don't post most of these). I have written about race throughout the time I’ve been blogging (even back when I had a blog that was only known to friends), because it is something that I feel strongly about, and that this caught the eye of certain members of the press, giving rise to certain coverage in the press, is a matter of chance. I could just as easily have been interviewed because of some new development in feminism, poetry, fashion, India or Sri Lanka. And believe me, if I had a choice, I would have rather been. On that point, please note that I have not given any direct interviews to the Tamil press, although it has come to my attention that there have been articles quoting or mentioning me in them.

My blog is my space, not a forum. It is my prerogative to moderate comments through, or not. I have switched off anonymous comments because here’s the difference between you (you know who you are) and me: I put myself out there, and you hide behind namelessness and shifting IP addresses. If you can’t be bothered to read a post properly before leaving a comment which accuses me of the exact opposite of a statement I’ve made, are hateful or make inappropriate personal attacks I may choose to not spend my energy on responding to your comment. Oh, and just because you read my blog doesn’t mean you know me. Just because you went to college or kindergarten with me doesn’t mean you know me. Just because I’m friends with your ex doesn’t mean you know me. Just because you’ve sat next to me on a plane or a train doesn’t mean you know me. Just because you’re related to me doesn’t mean you know me.

I have still not looked at the actual reports or what other blogs are saying, read the comments on the blogs I do frequent, or even looked at the many comments left here. But I am aware, from what I’ve been told, that a great deal of viciousness toward me seems to be out there at the moment. If I bother you so much, ignore me. It’s only if you keep attacking or talking about me that other people will hear about me.

Someone well-meaning asked me last week if it had been worth it, being open about my thoughts and opinions. Well, it has caused me stress and garnered me insult. It has even made me cry. Perhaps it was naïve of me to think that I could speak up about something which disturbed me and not get attacked, get turned into a spokesperson, or otherwise have lost focus, my own and others’, on what this blog is actually about. Or who and what I am (and I mean it, you probably don't know me). Perhaps it was naïve of me to think I was doing the right thing, when it came at this personal cost.

I am reminded of how from my mid-teens till less than two years ago, I was heavily involved with activism of various sorts, working for, volunteering with, or organizing events to raise funds for NGOs. All of that commitment to making a difference died away with the slow, painful realization that even those who seemed to share a vision could have their own agendas. And that ideologies do not make people, and maybe the value of any ideology goes only so far as the people who champion it. It was at this point that I decided to stick to writing as a means of affecting change..

I am taking some time off to think about this sudden notoriety. I guess I have to accept that my blog and I have come to the point where every word could be dissected, which changes how I feel about blogging completely. I started blogging because it was fun and empowering and because, well, I couldn’t afford a website.

Will I blog about Malaysia again? No. Will I go look at the reports and the slander and the actual debates that are lost somewhere in them? No. I have heard enough to know that I should not respond further than this at this point. I have also heard enough to know that silence may be the best self-defense in some cases.

Not In My Own Words

I am only slightly aware of the fact that I am suddenly in the midst of an international ruckus. I have not looked up the reports, but friends' phone calls told me of what is going on.

I don't have much to say and am not going to respond for the time being. However, please note this: the article that, from my understanding, has caused problems was not in my own words. The actual interview that took place is here. Yes, DNA India did sensationalize things and extrapolate from what was said in my interview based on other blog posts or general assumption. Anyone who has read my actual writing should know that my style is not in accord with what DNA India published. An article that I wrote on the issue for The New Indian Express is here.

I have not looked at the many comments left yet, and will not as such be moderating them through for a few days.

Updated (Dec 10): To be fair, I would like to clarify that I approved via email the article that Venkatesan Vembu wrote based on the interview he conducted with me. This was my mistake, and done in what was probably a naive moment, as I was concerned for Vembu's deadline and word limit -- that was the journalist in me forgetting the interviewee in me. I stand by my words in the transcript, but have had to disassociate myself from the article in the form it was published in light of recent events.

My Article in The New Indian Express

This appeared today on page 8 of The New Indian Express.

--

The Malaysian Apartheid

By Sharanya Manivannan

In August this year, I was given the opportunity to travel to Indonesia to participate in a literary festival that counted among its highlights a performance at the Borobudur temple. The deepest impression that the most populous Muslim nation in the world left on me was the co-existence of its rich pre-Islamic history with its current faith: the Ramayana is almost as Indonesian as it is Indian, a Muslim writer friend is named Laksmi, and the glorious 11th century Buddhist Borobudur and 9th century Hindu Prambanan temples inspired, alongside awe and reverence, a deep sadness at how temples in neighbouring Malaysia were being treated.

In just over a month from then I would return to India from Malaysia, where I had lived for nearly seventeen years, frustrated and fearful about the rising ethnic tensions and increasingly blatant discriminations practiced there. No proof, no locus standii whatsoever, of having lived there for so long – no permanent residency, no citizenship, nothing but a frequently-renewed tourist visa when my student one expired and the scars of the ensuing repeated interrogations at immigration. It was a painful departure, but I left with a certain instinctual anticipation of disaster to come. I had been following the spate of illegal and unethical demolitions of Hindu temples in Malaysia for a year and a half, and while a media blackout persisted, a sense that the loss of those profoundly symbolic markers of identity was radicalizing several forces in society, both egalitarian and otherwise, was quite evident to me.

Last week, the simmering resentments of a nation under a formal apartheid exploded. The constitution of Malaysia explicitly privileges the Malay Muslim majority’s access to opportunity, and indeed claim to the nation itself, and the inherent racism of this sentiment is one that trickles down through all sectors of society. The superficial image of multicultural harmony that it had somehow managed to convince the world of has begun to fray in no uncertain terms.

By now, the mass protests highlighting the plight of Malaysians of Indian origin are common knowledge. But perspective on the broad issues of race, class and religion in Malaysia remains distorted not only because this is the first time that open acknowledgement of the reality that is Malaysia is happening on a global front, but also because of what seem to be various internal agendas. That Malaysia has reached a catalystic moment is beyond doubt, but what happens now remains to be seen.

At present, the issue is presented in an almost clear-cut Tamil Hindu vs Malay dichotomy. But this is a fundamentally flawed picture: there are three major races in Malaysia (the Chinese included) and many smaller minority groups. Sub-racially, too, Tamil Hindus do not make up the entire population of Indian origin; significant Malayali, Punjabi and other communities exist, with the usual smorgasbord of religious denominations also. The entire bureaucratic system of Malaysia privileges the Malay above all of these groups.

Historically, Malaysians of Indian origin have been at the lowest rungs of the race/class ladder because of how they migrated there in the first place, usually in the servitude of the British empire. Post-colonial Malaysia did not only keep the divide-and-conquer system intact, it augmented it, making race essentially the be-all and end-all of everything. And yes, the Indian minority does have it worst – socially, economically and politically. But under a political system that thrives on division and uses the threat of discord as a means of ensuring silent acquiescence, everybody suffers. To different degrees, admittedly, and a few, maybe not at all. But by and large, living in a society that judges, rewards and punishes on purely race-based motives takes it toll. To live conscious of inequality makes one a participant, willing or not, victim or not.

So for Hindraf, the organization behind the rally of thousands seen on TV screens all over the world last week, to portray the issue as a Tamil Hindu one only not only detracts from the big picture, but further polarizes communities. For them to also sue Britain and demand compensation amounting to a total of USD$14 trillion is regressive. The point of decolonization is to free oneself from the shackles of foreign rule. Pinning the blame on the former colonizer instead of admitting that the problem is internal and has persisted for fifty years after independence because of internal factors is just evading the heart of the problem.

While a mass demonstration of that sort and scale of drama could help change Malaysia for the better, I do not think that the manner of execution and the lack of follow-up will help anything at all, except perhaps the pre-existing status quo and commonly-held stereotypes that Indians are violent, emotionally volatile and deserving of mockery.

The plight of Malaysians under their deliberately divisive government is both real and needs urgent rectification, and it would be a shame for the sudden international awareness and ire raised to go to waste because of a lack of vision. And yes, the plight of Malaysians per se, not just those who are of a certain origin.

So what is in store for Malaysia? When I consider what a good solution might be, I think of dialogue and debate, of the population willing to speak out, of the fear of the government’s draconian laws toward dissent and criticism dissipating. When I try to imagine an ideal situation, an eventuality I might hope for for Malaysia, I am brought back again to temples. Once more, the sheer symbolism of them, of what they represent, comes to mind.

Once more, I think back to the hijab-ed women selling fiberglass replicas of the Prambanan temple in Indonesia. Purely commercial perhaps, I know I ought to assume in this cynical, globalized world, but I don’t really think so. Something about that co-existence, that acceptance, understanding and perhaps even pride – Muslim women in a Muslim country at the foot of a relic to a faith of a different time for that location, making their living literally under its auspices – gives me hope.

Farish Noor: A Tale of Two Temples

Dr Farish Noor very kindly emailed me this article of his, which appeared recently in the Malaysian print magazine Off The Edge.

I am travelling at present and apologise for the lack of updates. Yes, that was me on the Times NOW TV channel on Thursday night, and yes I should stop looking around so much when the camera is on me, and yes I do have a very prominent forehead.

More soon.

---

The Other Malaysia: A Tale of Two Temples

By Farish A. Noor

While meandering about in downtown Saigon recently I chanced upon the Sri Mariaman temple close to Ben Thanh market. It was an interesting visit to say the least, for the riotous colours of the temple were matched by the riotous conjunction of many faiths that had come together in that singular enclosed and sacred space.

The reasons for this are obvious to those familiar with Vietnam’s recent history: In 1975 when Saigon finally fell to the triumphant North Vietnamese Army and Viet Cong, practically all the foreigners and migrant residents had made a bee line for the dock. The temples, churches and mosques of Saigon – thenafter renamed Ho Chi Minh city – were left vacant and the devotees wondered if they would be allowed to remain standing at all after their departure. At the height of the Cold War the Vietnamese Communists were seen as a rather uncompromising, tiresomely dogmatic, no-fun bloodthirsty lot and many had assumed that the religious texts would be recycled as toilet paper (as the Khmer Rouge treated the Bibles and Qurans that fell into their hands later) and that the sacred sites would be desacralised in the most outlandish manner.

But what followed next was a surprise to many: They, the dreaded Commies, not only allowed the religious buildings to remain, but they also made use of them in a host of imaginative ways. Many of the churches and mosques were restored and preserved, and some were turned into schools or clinics. Not a stone was touched, save by the restorer’s paint brush.

Today the Sri Mariaman temple in central Saigon has once again become a religious site for many, but ironically most of the devotees happen to be Buddhists and Taoists, not Hindu – for there are scarcely a dozen Hindus left in the city. So I sat and watched as mothers and aunts, grannies and grand-kids perambulated around the precinct of the temple, offering their prayers and sending up their hopes and wishes to the Gods of the Himalayas on a cloud of incense smoke. The Hindu priests are still there, though one wonders what they make of it all, with Buddhists and Taoists coming to offer prayers and light joss-sticks before the many avatars of Lakshmi, Durga, Kali and Krishna. If human beings have proven their intolerance time and again, at least the Gods seem more kindly and benevolent to entertain the vainest of wishes even from strangers.

Hop of the next cheapo flight and find yourself here in multi-culti Malaysia, just in time to see the bulldozers smash through another Sri Mariaman temple in Selangor. It was a double blow to me to return to KL in transit to hear the news that not one, but two, Hindu temples had just been flattened on the same day by our endearing developers in the vicinity of Shah Alam. Even less heart-warming were the accounts of the devotees of the temple who were manhandled and forcibly marched out before the hammers came down, some at gun point. If nefarious Commie Vietnam can protect their temples, why can’t we ‘plural, multicultural, multiflavoured’ Malaysians extend the same comfort and protection to our fellow Malaysians too?

Of course there will be the nay-sayers who will point me to the legal fine print and remind me of the legally dubious status of some of these temples. Then there will be those who will insist that this is an Indian-Hindu issue which I should not stick my nose in (even though the issue is a Malaysian one as these are Malaysian temples being destroyed on Malaysian territory and Malaysians are affected). Then there will be the gung-ho testosterone-driven macho types who will yelp and whinge about Malay identity being the paramount defining factor that defines what being Malaysian is, etc. etc.

But prattle and legalese notwithstanding, the bottom line is this: These happen to be Malaysian temples built on Malaysian soil with Malaysian devotees and the Malaysian government is presiding over their systematic and calculated destruction, one by one. One shudders at the thought of the long-term global repercussions of this campaign, for already recorded footage of these temple demolitions are being transmitted to websites all over the globe and the issue taken up by Hindu conservatives in India.

Nor are the parallels being drawn an attractive one: If the Taliban could have levelled the Bamiyan statues of Buddha with a flick of the trigger-finger (to be followed by the mass slaughter of goats and cows all over the benighted land, which did not make it to the headlines); then what is happening in our plural wonderland called Malaysia? How are we to hold our heads up high and invite the world to visit our wonderfully diverse and colourful country when the very same landscape is being flattened in a rather indecorous way at the same time? Taliban, Wot? Here? Blimey!

The tragedy of course is that the deliberate reconstruction of Malaysia’s urban landscape is being done in broad daylight under the flag of a nebulous formulae of ‘moderate Islam’ that is said by some hopefuls to be the last chance to save the pluralist spirit of the country. However one finds it hard to accept such talk of mutual love and inter-communal cuddlyness when the bulldozers parked outside don’t look all that cuddly. Nor do the cops with their tear gas canisters and batons. Or the Orcish horde of construction (or should we say destruction) workers with mallets and hammers slung precariously over their shoulders, ready to rock and roll. Looking back at the fate of the two Sri Mariaman temples, the question remains: Who were the ones who protected the rights of the religious minorities better? The Godless Commies or the faithful Malaysians? These are the times when I am not proud to admit that I am a Malaysian, I have to say.

Dr. Farish A. Noor is a political scientist and historian based at the Zentrum Moderner Orient, Berlin; and one of the founders of the www.othermalaysia.org research site.