Time to go beyond Malay vs non-Malay mindset

COMMENT A couple of weeks ago, a young Malaysian had an encounter in that most Malaysian of institutions, the mamak stall.

It was crowded and he'd asked if he could sit on a spare chair at a table occupied by a group of young college boys. They were less than welcoming, but he took the chair nonetheless.

The boys began to disparage him in Cantonese, feeling a false sense of security in the assumption that he did not speak the language.

Their comments were racially inflected, informed by their own bigotry – Ahmad, kampung, low employment, presumptions of poor education, and multiple children. 

It turned out that this young Malaysian understood every word. Before leaving, he decided to pointedly disabuse the boys of their assumptions, taking some pleasure in doing so.

He wrote a short post about the incident on his Facebook account soon after. It got shared widely, and, in an Internet minute, went viral. What followed was an avalanche of comments and reposts.

Many congratulated him, taking real pleasure in those kids getting their comeuppance. Some accused him of being arrogant.

Still others felt that he should have seized the teachable moment, and engaged the group in a meaningful discussion.

It's easy to second-guess someone and I'm not sure how I would have reacted in his position. I did think however that he deserved full credit for refusing to play the race card.

In his original post, and in subsequent clarifications in response to comments, he took great pains not to cast the incident as a racial one.

The hundreds of commentators on social media too, generally framed their criticism of the boys on the basis of their youth, their privilege (i.e. private college students), class, the failure of their parents to raise them well, a generational lack of respect or personal arrogance.

I was quite impressed. Could it be that young Malaysians were really able to see beyond ethnicity? But the more I read, the more I wondered if there was something else going on?

Victim of ugly racism

The simple fact is that he was a victim of ugly racism, and yet, there were, relatively speaking, few comments which dealt with the highly racialised nature of the boys' comments in a substantive manner.

It seems that even as we justifiably condemn racism when it comes from the state or its agents against minorities, we're less sensitised to the racist views and behaviours of non-Malays towards Malays.

It’s a peculiar short-sightedness, one that distorts what we see when we have to be self-reflexive.

Imagine if you will a similar scenario, only this time the boys were Malays speaking in a Kelantanese and Joe, an ethnic Chinese from Kota Baru.

Would we have been content to lay the blame for their behaviour on family, class, generational difference and personal failings? Or would their actions have become a referendum on all Malays?

I get that as minorities, we're angry, scared and fed-up. The macro-social formations of the nation are institutionally framed to marginalise bumiputera minorities from East and West Malaysia, non-Malays, the Syiah community and other groups.

As the political elite shifts and reshapes itself in response to intra-Malay political and economic conflicts, minority rights have been cynically violated to score political points.

The political and social climate is fraught with hurtful words, reckless actions and baseless attacks.  It's not an exaggeration to say we feel ourselves under siege.

In feeling ourselves victimised, many of us have personalised and replicated the bigotry we've encountered in our own language, attitudes and behaviours.

In doing so, we alienate many fellow-Malaysians simply because we can't see beyond their ethnic or religious identity.

It may be overt and nasty, as with those boys in the mamak stall. Or it may be subtler. Casually throwing in the word "Melayu" in a way that turns it into a term of derision.

Inquiring of a Malay classmate if they have mixed parentage, and if they do, exclaiming triumphantly, "Ah, no wonder you're so smart-lah".

Adding the qualifier "bright" or "hard-working" when referring to Malays we like or respect as if these qualities are absent by default.

Perhaps we tell ourselves that we are merely repaying like with like. Or that these are small acts in comparison to the larger injustices of Perkasa's vitriolic or the Selangor Islamic Affairs Department's (Jais) extra-legal actions.

It may seem that as victims of state-supported discrimination, we're justified in getting our own back.  But by reacting with corresponding racism we become compliant actors in a wayang orchestrated by power brokers, to further their own divisive agendas.

Gleeful postings

As I was writing this article, the news broke that Selangor Islamic Affairs Council and Jais would not return the Bibles they had stolen despite the AG's recommendation.

The statements from these 'religious' leaders, and the gleeful postings by individuals on social media made me blindingly angry.

And yes, it was easy to direct my anger at one specific ethnic group.

I was playing the role assigned to me – the aggrieved non-Malay/Muslim, and my oppressor wasn’t just Jais or some ignorant guy on Twitter. It was an entire community. While my anger was justified, I knew that it was misplaced.

The complex hybridity of our society has been reduced into 'Malay and non-Malay' by those who seek to oppress, and gamely adopted by those who are oppressed. These discursive formations lock us into frames of identity that seem to "make sense".

Hence, despite the fact that a large number of ethnic Malays have been detained as political prisoners under the Internal Security Act over the past 50 years, and many of the most vocal supporters of minority rights have been Muslims, there is a persistent, casual racism that sees all Malays as a homogenous, adversarial group.

Personally, I find a great comfort in the many whose markers of ethnicity and religion privilege them, who have raised their voices in defence of minority rights. Their integrity, compassion and courage move me in a very personal way.

Their contrarian opinions delegitimise those who claim authority as the protector of Malay or Muslim rights.

The ex-mufti of Perlis, Asri Zainul Abidin ( left ), for example, has been a thoughtful voice of reason – backed by actual religious knowledge – that has spoken out on multiple occasions.

Other writers, bloggers, activists, academics and ordinary citizens have not been afraid to call a spade full of inflammatory accusation the spade of crap that it is, even at the risk of being labelled traitors.

They've not bought into this construct of ethnic solidarity trumping what is fair and right. These individual voices restore my faith in people, and make me less inclined to buy into the state (and every headline) telling me that there are two groups of Malaysians, and we're destined to be at odds with each other.

We've accepted their empathy, lauded their ability to rise above the false logic of race, reposted their articles and 'liked' them to signal our appreciation.

Yet in return, we seem to lack the critical consciousness to do the same when we are the perpetrators. Being victims of institutional racism does not insulate us from being critical of our own actions and behaviours.

Empathy is an exercise of the imagination: to place ourselves in the shoes of others and imagine their subjectivity, their perspective, and their feelings. It's easy to feel empathy for those who are obviously victims - an abused child, a grieving father, stranded refugees.

When the 'victim' is someone we associate with those we feel have aggrieved us? Not so easy. True empathy comes when we speak out against bigotry even when we're hurting ourselves, and maybe only then will we make a tiny bit of difference.