"I remember on one occasion, when she was asked to sing the English version of that touching melody, 'The Red-haired Man's wife', she replied, 'I will sing it for you; but the English words and the air are like a quarrelling man and wife; the Irish melts into the tune, but the English doesn't .'" William Carleton, Traits and Stories of the Irish Peasantry.

Nearly 10 years ago, I went on a week-long tour in the Irish Republic. In Tipperary, a tranquil little town in the southwest of the country, I befriended a couple of friendly young Irish girls, and to them I couldn't wait to pose a question that had been puzzling me for years: why is Gaelic largely a dead language throughout Ireland, supposedly the native tongue of the Celtic people?

The girls looked perplexed, as if my question did not make sense to them at all. I probed further, "Why did you abandon Gaelic for English, the language of the people that conquered your ancestral land for centuries?"

"Well, it is a matter of choice," said one.

"My parents just do not think it is important," answered the other.

I gave up, and came to terms with the fact that not all post-colonial societies see English as imperialist opium and are bent on decolonising their people by subjecting it to the hegemony of the native tongue. After all, the Republic of Ireland is admired not only for its relentless, persistent and bloody struggle for self-determination from the British, but also for the rich literary heritage embodied by Oscar Wilde, W B Yeats, Edmund Burke and C S Lewis.

Rafidah's views

While the Irish may be cool on their 'mother tongue', language has always been a very emotive topic that continues to haunt the tenure and test the tenacity of the successive education ministers in Malaysia. Since last week, editors of the Malay and the English press have been kept busy by the language issue, this time ignited by none other than Rafidah Aziz, the minister for international trade and industry.

I often tell others that Rafidah is one of the most efficient and hardworking cabinet members around. A foreign official once uttered to me his profound amazement that, in spite of her tight schedule, Rafidah had managed to reply, handwritten, his fax request within just half an hour. In a quirky tone, he added, "I have no business to offer her, you know".

And I do admire the way Rafidah takes up challenges from her audiences. While many government leaders, Prime Minister Abdullah Ahmad Badawi being no exception, tend to shun question and answer sessions, especially when foreign journalists are around, Rafidah is known for her untiring combativeness in facing off gadflies from all corners.

At the risk of alienating those who constantly find fault with the Barisan Nasional government, I would say her outspokenness and no-nonsense attitude are indeed commendable, my disagreements with many of her policies and questionable business deals notwithstanding.

Therefore, I was not at all surprised that, of all the heavyweight Umno politicians, she happens to be the one who has come out with the strongest urge for Malaysians, and Malays in particular, to strive for better command of English, arguing forcefully that it would not make one 'less Malay' or 'less Malaysian'.

Although I do not regard the English language as the panacea for the lack of competitiveness of our country in the international arena, compared to others who champion openly Malay as the pride of the nation yet quietly have their children learn English as first language, Rafidah's forthright stance on the issue indeed impressed me much more than anything else. At least, she makes no pretence of upholding Malay to the status of a sacred cow while practising otherwise.

It is only natural that her favourable view on English goes down well with those who are more comfortable with the language, and I would be happy to give the flurry of letters the past week in the New Straits Times, almost all in praise of Rafidah's pragmatism, the benefit of the doubt in regard to their authenticity. However, the Malay press is taking a very different position when it comes to adopting English as the language of technology.

Muted leaders

The wariness of the Malay community is understandable, as the majority of the rural population is made up of the largest ethnic group in the country that is, relatively speaking, less exposed to the use of English as compared to their urban fellow countrymen and women. What is most amusing to me is that the Malay dailies, and Berita Harian especially, have been brave enough to confront Rafidah on the issue with articles and letters, while other Umno leaders remain muted, leaving the big sister of the women's wing fighting a lone battle against the 'language fanatics'.

The near-sacred status of the Malay language is also faithfully defended by Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka (DBP), Malaysia's answer to Academie Franoise, France's linguistic watchdog. Early this week, DBP came out against the newly coined infotainmen in Malay, and proposed infohibur or inforia as alternatives. But either term is a hybrid product of both English and Malay anyway, and I certainly fail to see how it should be regarded as more proper and acceptable by DBP than infotainmen .

Be so as it may, I fully respect the right of DBP to air its own views. Still, I would be more intrigued to hear its opinion on MyKad, the new identity card being hard sold by the government. If linguistic purity were indeed desirable as a national trait, MyKad would no doubt be a gross violation and horrible insult, and DBP should have fought against the 'misnomer' since its inception.

So, as a patriotic Malaysian proud of our nation's modern technology, how would you like your identity card to be known? MyKad? Or KadKu?