'National Identity' to a primate on a rock that orbits a giant gas ball in space

Only a few days ago I realised how strange it was that we have two public holidays to celebrate nationalistic ideals within a month of each other. I ought to have a Subhash Day to celebrate me coming into my final form on the 18th of August 2008. Force family members and close friends to buy me gifts and pretend it’s a real thing just like we do with Malaysia Day. I suppose all these things are made up anyway and it’s both always and never too late to object to how absurd it all is depending on what you make of reality.

Anyway, as a member of the human race it’s up to me to decide what it means to be Malaysian, Indian, and unemployed. I am all three of those things by birthright. It is a bit difficult to carve my own meaning to attach to these labels. I’ll deal with being Indian and unemployed in different posts. Since it’s the closing hours of Malaysia day, I’m going to go ahead and focus on what it means to be Malaysian.

From my 11 years in state schools, I've come to the conclusion that being Malaysian gives me the right to be ignorant about a lot of things. I have spent most of my life being told by the government, the opposition, and the ads on TV that being Malaysian means using words like ‘macha’ incessantly and hanging out with a culturally diverse group of friends (who inexplicably always manage to include no more than the 3 state-sanctioned races + the occasional ‘lain-lain’).

However, only about 2-3% of my life as a Malaysian has been spent in mamak stalls and I’ve mostly used the word ‘macha’ to refer to the word ‘macha’. When I use it the way it’s meant to be used it sounds like I shouldn’t be allowed to use it in public. In fact, there a lot of Malaysian words that my fellow Malaysians have expressly asked me to stop using. 

I don’t think being Malaysian is all about the food either. Taste is subjective and I’ve seen just as many crowded McDonalds and KFCs as mamak and coffee shops during lunch hour. I love the food we have, but it’s a bit disappointing to think that we share the gastronomical aspect of our national identity with Singapore. 

I’m speculating here a bit, but I think it’s a safe bet to assume that most people around the world like eating food as much as Malaysians but are a bit more ashamed about gluttony than we are. Except Africans. As a Malaysian, I'm going to assume that the news was right in depicting Africa as a continent whose people prefer starvation and famine to eating. As a Malaysian, it's OK for me to attach simple ideas to people in a continent so large you could fit India, the US and China in it on a map.

I’ve had a think about this and there are definitely some things that, as a Malaysian I can relate to quite closely. These are things that flood me with emotions whenever they happen but it’s a shame that there aren’t any annual ads that address them.

I’d like to see a Petronas ad that involves giving bribes to policemen when you’re caught going above the speed limit. They could make it funny and touching (like they always do) by having the bribe be a ridiculously small amount and them both laughing about it. Why not a Maxis ad about buying pirated DVDs? Lotsa Indians and Malays and occasionally lain-lains buy pirated DVDs from Chinese pirates. Interaction between 1Malaysia approved races! Definitely ad-worthy.  

But how about an ad that goes a bit further than these Malaysian habits. I want an ad that truly captures the spirit of what it means to be Malaysian. One where we Indians, Malays and Chinese (and lain-lains) come together to ostracise, dehumanise and exclude working class Banglas and Indons and the other lesser races who do most of the heavy lifting. I would argue that state-approved, non-chattel, wage slavery is just as much a part of the Malaysian way as sitting in a mamak stall with your culturally diverse group of friends (who inexplicably always manage to include no more than the 3 state-sanctioned races + the occasional ‘lain-lain’).

Every good Malaysian knows that even a cultural melting pot as grand as ours has restrictions not dissimilar to their non-metaphysical counterparts (by which I mean actual, physical melting pots) and we must choose to limit which races are allowed into our thermally conductive vessel for social integration. It’s nice and warm in here, let’s not make it all sweaty and disgusting just because a few of them are sacrificed to the God of Poor Safety Regulations On Construction Sites for the sake of making low labour cost work in our cities and estates a reality.

It’s not like they do it for any other reason than their survival. They only came here for the money, so they obviously don’t love the country the way we do. You won’t see a Bangla or an Indon lighting fireworks on the 31st of August. No. All they do is the hard-labour that keeps this country chugging along. We, us, the 3 state-sanctioned races (+ the occasional lain-lain) are the ones who have lived the Malaysian story. Our great-grandparents came here on boats or were here on fishing boats long before we needed them. Tanah Tumpahnya Darahku doesn’t apply to them. Not even if you find their bodies under slabs of concrete from the MRT project.

There isn’t room for more than 3 state-sanctioned races (+ the occasional ‘lain-lain’) in 1Malaysia. There isn’t room for it in the opposition-sanctioned-yet-to-be-named-policy of there being 1 imaginary Malaysian race. Why?  Mostly because they probably don’t want to be here any longer than is necessary (even though this is obviously the best country to live in) but also because our national identity is built around this small and short-sighted way of thinking about race and culture. It was conceived in the 20th century and that sort of outdated thinking remains a bigger part of our identity than we’d like to think. To me, the appeal of leaving the country isn't to do with making more money or becoming someone. There are rich and famous people here and more opportunities for fish like me in this comparatively small pond. 

The fact that I cannot fully identify with Malaysian racism makes me feel like I don't belong. Whenever I find myself relating to the racism here I feel nothing but shame for the way we've decided to live here. It's the most pathetic sort of racism. It's racism so immature it hasn't even sorted its own definitions out. But more on this when I write about being Indian.

This badly written post is dedicated to the memory of Ern Nian, one of my closest friends in uni. He passed away tragically right after working with the UNHCR to free 40 non-Malaysian humans from a detention centre in my home state. When I first met him in 2010 I thought his advocacy for human rights was a bit corny and out of place but it didn’t take long for me to realise just how committed he was to the idea. This country isn’t worthy of his ideals. Just the other day I was on a bus to Subang Jaya when a policeman walked in and started checking passports. He waved and smiled to the 3 white tourists because they were obviously of a race that could fuck us up if they wanted to and then proceeded to bully a foreign worker off the bus because his papers were photostats. 

Happy Malaysia Day, Malaysia. Let's hope that you don't hurt yourself and those around you in trying to achieve this race-based identity that seems to centre around which immigrants made it through the customs before you could stop them in 1963.