As a living language, Bahasa assimilates foreign words with ease. Unfortunately, too easily.

Words like radio , motokar and komputer are readily accepted through common usage. Although purists have tried to replace radio with the translated 'air funneler' ( tetuang udara ), that did not catch on.

Radio, itself an English acronym, sounds Malay enough. Similarly, Umno, the English abbreviation for our leading political party, is now very much part of our lexicon. Whoever heard of Pekember, its original Malay acronym?

English is not the only language from which Malay acquires new words liberally. Think of such Chinese words as lu and gua that are freely interspersed during daily haggling at the market.

Then there is the all-encompassing phrase, cin cai , with which we try to finalise a deal or settle an account. Interestingly, we frown on taking words from languages other than English, disparaging that as 'bazaar' Malay, not suitable for polite or formal conversation.

This undoubtedly is a hangover from our colonial days. The British influenced us in more ways than we would care to admit.

Not only have we taken words freely from English, we also made our own version of that language (Manglish) by using English words and phrases in Malay grammatical forms. Phrases like 'also can', 'can or not', and 'no mind' which are literal translations from Malay, confound everyone.

Creep liberally

The universal lah that ends every expression is another uniquely Malaysian imprint. Lah has an appealing, almost pleading, tone. An invitation is just not as enticing without the lah . Thus, 'Come, lah !' from a lady, with or without the wink, is a decidedly more encouraging signal!

Lah reminds me of the distinctively Canadian eh . It lends an air of familiarity, establishing a certain instant rapport and comfort level between speaker and listener. Thus, 'It's okay, eh !' Without that characteristic ending, the Canucks sound, well, downright American!

Likewise the Caribbean mon . It is just not the same without it, mon . And when a Jamaican says, "It's not my job, mon !" you know that nothing in this world can persuade him otherwise. Mon has that undefined finality.

During colonial times, fluency in English carried a certain prestige and was a prerequisite for success. Contrary to present popular pronouncements, it still is. Not surprisingly, English words creep liberally into our everyday conversations.

It helps convey the impression that the speaker is English or foreign educated, and not the product of sekolah atap (village school). Back in the kampong, such pretensions are simply dismissed as Mat Salleh culup (veneer of Anglicism).

With independence came a resurgence of pride in our heritage and language. Hence the earlier ill-advised attempt at calling the radio, 'air funneler'.

Bizarre translations

To be a national language, Bahasa had to expand rapidly. We did it by incorporating wholesale English words and terms, imitating the Indonesians. To maintain our national dignity, we made cosmetic changes ( sensasi for sensation) and spelled these new words phonetically. Hence, polis and

teksi . Practical enough, but oddities do crop up. Is it talivisyen or talivisi ?

Nonetheless, through such simplistic means our language grew prolifically. But such hurried and haphazard growth stresses the basic character and foundation of the language. It also degrades the culture that gave birth to the language. Not to mention that it challenges the spell-checking capabilities of modern word processing software.

Malay periodicals and newspapers are littered with such 'translated' English words. Inisiatip itu orijinal, komprehensip dan epektip . (The initiative was original, comprehensive and effective). The only authentic Malay words in that sentence are itu (it) and

dan (and).

Another, krisis konfrontasi prioriti pertama . (The confrontation crisis is our first priority). The problem is worse in scholarly journals, where the translations are often bizarre, inconsistent, and beyond comprehension.

With words like kompleks and ambulan creeping into our language, ever wonder why our students are terrible spellers, in English and Malay? Is it dail nomber or dial number ? Unit or yunit ?

While eminent writers like Kassim Ahmad and Shahnon Ahmad handle such konstruksi with elegance (most of the time), lesser authors stumble easily. When reading aloud much of contemporary Malay prose, I wonder whether it is a genuine language or simply pidgin English. Ungrammatical English, phonetically spelled, is not Bahasa.

It does not help that we keep changing the very name of our language. It has gone from being Bahasa Melayu (Malay Language), to Bahasa Kebangsa'an (National Language), then Bahasa Baku (God knows what that means), and now, Bahasa Malaysia. What will they think of next?

Language police

Even more exasperating than these loosely translated words is the universal Malaysian habit of jumbling, with abandon, Malay and English. Case in point, this statement by our leader: "If our people want to hide these ugly things, itu kami tak setuju (that we disagree)."

He went on, "Better lah kalau kita boleh (if we can) bring it out in the open." This on national television! No wonder our students cannot write simple sentences correctly, in English or Bahasa.

A minister visiting California, on seeing some Malaysian faces in the audience, immediately regressed to her regular mode - mixing English and Malay at random - to the befuddlement of her American listeners.

Malaysia is not the only multilingual country. In Europe it is the norm. Canada's situation is the closest to what we have in Malaysia: two main languages, with one (French) having an inferiority complex due to the overwhelming English dominance.

The predominantly French-speaking province of Quebec tries desperately for French supremacy by suppressing the use of English. It even has a language police. Sound familiar?

Most Canadians are bilingual. No Canadian leader demonstrated this facility with the two languages better that the late Pierre Trudeau, prime minister in the 1970s. When he responded to Francophone journalists, he would answer them totally in French, complete with the animated facial grimaces, vigorous shrugging of the shoulders, and wild hand gestures.

He would then summarise in a cool, dispassionate fashion the question and his answer in English, with no trace of an accent. No exasperating half-French, half-English.

No other Canadian politician before or since has shown such facility in both languages or ease in the two main cultures. In fact few world leaders are competent in languages other than their own.

Heritage debased

Malaysian leaders, at least the older ones, are fluently bilingual. This is a tribute to our old education policy. It would be better if these leaders set an example and speak in one language entirely, and then translate fully into the other. This hodgepodge mixing of Malay and English not only grates on the ears but also defies comprehension.

Contrary to popular belief, our distinct Malaysian accent is not a barrier to effective communication; rapid mumbling in a whispering voice ala an RTM (Radio Television Malaysia) announcer, is.

Malay language is fully capable of expressing our deepest thoughts and most complex ideas. There is no need for the wholesale incorporation of English words and phrases. Doing so debases its precious heritage.

Speaking on behalf of myself (to use yet another Malaysian expression), I "no mind if you speak half-Malay half-English, but better lah kalau boleh stick to one. Can or not?"