COMMENT | “Hope is like a road in the country; there was never a road, but when many people walk on it, the road comes into existence.”
– Lin Yutang

As Malaysia Day draws near, we are drawn to reflect on what being Malaysian means. James Chai’s article on returning after completing his studies in the UK triggered a spectrum of reactions. Some praised him for his courage, but most chastised him for giving up a bright future because “Malaysia no hope.”

James’ letter reminded me of my own decision to leave Hong Kong to join Malaysian politics in 2016. The reactions I encountered were similar.

I was happy in Hong Kong. My job as a conference producer came with many corporate perks and various learning opportunities in an international city. I experienced Hong Kong’s vibrant protest culture by participating in the Umbrella Revolution. Furthermore, I’d adopted Hong Kong Cantonese to the extent my Ipoh hairdresser said that I sounded like a TVB drama character.

And yet, I chose to return despite being a year shy of PR eligibility. The Umbrella Revolution was an eye-opener for me because of its leaders’ age. Its most visible leader, Joshua Wong, was barely 18 when he initiated the movement for democracy in Hong Kong.

Two things sprang to mind. The first: why was I eager to participate in a protest for democracy in a foreign country while my own country needed such energy? The second: what could I do?

Depoliticisation

It is interesting to see that Malaysians who say “Malaysia no hope” to returning scholars like James did not say “Hong Kong no hope” to Joshua Wong. How did we become so cynical?

One of the main reasons is systematic depoliticisation. We never learned about democracy in school. Neither did our parents nor grandparents. They were legitimately more concerned with putting food on the table after World War II.

Neither were those in power ever interested in educating. In fact, it is in their interest for us to know as little as possible about politics, ideologies, and political but practical matters like how governments work. In that way, we are kept dependent on and subservient to them.

Maybe that is why every 31 August and 16 September, we wave our flags and become a nation for only a day.

Depoliticisation, as my colleague Daniel Teoh highlighted last year, caused confusion about the government’s role in a democracy. As a result of our ignorance, we tend to form certain strange ideas of how things should be like in this country.

For example, we want a small government. We also want it to solve all of our problems. This leads to politicians overpromising during elections, and then under-delivering. Disappointment is the only natural result.

Last year, I became a Petaling Jaya City Councillor. The effects of depoliticisation are very obvious in the public’s reactions to a problem. Most people think that only the councillor can and must solve all their problems, not knowing that they can approach the authorities themselves.

Of course, the effects of depoliticisation also mean that the civil service does not take citizens seriously enough to adequately address their grievances. It is a vicious cycle.

There are currently about 4 million unregistered young voters. The value of a vote has cheapened so much that some even feel proud for not registering or abstaining. Most of us vote on polling day, call it a day for five years, until it’s time to vote again.

Empowering citizens through civics education

As councillor, municipal matters are my bread and butter. However, I’ve also decided to focus on civics education, particularly with the youth.

In collaboration with Purana School, a group dedicated to promoting philosophy in Malay, I have organised two events. The first: a card game session where we played Politiko, a locally-made, light-hearted simulation of local politics. On the surface, the mission is simple: get eight voters and you win. However it reveals the scheme of things, where politics is all about courting voters. The point is simple: in this current climate, if youths don’t register as voters, their voices do not matter.

The second, which we branded as #Wayang, was a simple film screening of “V for Vendetta.” After both activities, we engaged the young attendees in discussions on the civic duties of citizens and the role of government. But most importantly, we reminded them of a long-forgotten truth: that they, when they become voters, are no longer powerless or voiceless.

We also learned from our crowd that while some didn’t care for politics or know how government works, they were well-informed and had their own stands on issues. Some, who were unregistered voters, said these events helped them realise that they should pay more attention.

Where do returning youth go?

I earnestly encourage fellow Malaysians to not immediately resort to bitterness or cynicism for the Jameses who choose to return. We cannot encourage Joshua Wong and discourage James Chai in the same breath.

To returning scholars interested in politics: if you have your eye on a particular party but are unsure of committing full-time, start by volunteering or intern with an elected representative of your choice.

If you want to be radical, intern with a councillor. In an age where we are always chasing after the next Big Idea or Big Thing, dealing with the nitty-gritty of local government is less glamourous but has more tangible impact on people’s daily lives.

Imagine if Najib and his entire Cabinet disappeared for a week. Life for the average citizen would go on as usual. Now imagine if the rubbish collector disappeared for three days. All hell would break loose.

My point is this: we will always need leaders as long as there is society. Naturally, we would want the best of us to lead.

Young people are the leaders of tomorrow but we have to be trained today. Society should provide support and guidance to the best of us so that we can have the best possible leaders. We should think twice before “advising” returning scholars to leave because we feel that “Malaysia no hope.”

To all who return, welcome home. We’ve got a lot of work to do.

LIM YI WEI is political secretary to Petaling Jaya Utara MP Tony Pua. She is also a councillor with the Petaling Jaya City Council (MBPJ). This Friday night, she will be hosting the 2nd #Wayang screening, featuring the film “Where to Invade Next.”

The views expressed here are those of the author/contributor and do not necessarily represent the views of Malaysiakini.