SEEING IT MY WAY
Malaysiakini.com July 5, 2006

The False Premise and Promise of Ketuanan Melayu

Editorial lead: The Malays have never learned or refused to learn what it would take to be Tuan. In this competitive world you work to be one; you must work to be one.

Malay leaders are again selling to their followers a bill of goods with the doctrine of Ketuanan Melayu (Malay Hegemony). These leaders delude themselves and the masses into thinking that we Malays have been anointed “Tuan” (master) of Malaysia, with all the implied glories and privileges.

Both the premise and promise of Ketuanan Melayu are false. The sooner Malays grasp this stark reality, the better it is for us and for all Malaysians, as well as for the nation. In this competitive world you work to be a Tuan; you must earn it! In feudal societies, whether you are fated to be master or servant is determined at birth by your heritage. Malaysia has long passed that stage though many are still entrapped in the feudal mindset.

Yes, our sultans are born to be so. Perhaps that is where we acquire the belief that we too could be born Tuan purely based on our heritage.. False! Nowhere is it so written. Our sultans could easily be reduced to the status of the Sultan of Sulu, as has happened during the deprivation of World War II. It did not take long for our rajas to behave as ordinary mortals then, joining their fellow villagers in scrounging for food. There was nothing regal about your sultanah wrapped in a wet, cheap sarong panning for fish in the rivers, like all the other poor villagers.

If that could happen to our sultans in the past, it could happen again. And if it could happen to our sultans, it could happen to ordinary rakyats. The only sure path to spare us from such a fate is to ensure that we are competitive and can contribute our share.

De jure Tuan versus de facto Tuan

In our obsession to be Tuan we have never learned or refused to learn what it would take to be one. We convinced ourselves that we are Tuans simply through the operation of the law, a social contract agreed upon by our earlier leaders, or through the will of Allah.

While Malays fantasize being de jure (by operation of law) Tuan, non-Malays, through their hard work, have become de facto (as a matter of fact) Tuans in Malaysia. Outside of government offices, this is the harsh reality.

Through Ketuanan Melayu Malays are led to believe that the world would be at our beck and call. We use the constitution to confidently decree that our culture, language, and norms be supreme. When the world ignores our command, we become even shriller in impressing upon them our status as Tuan.

Increasingly, it is not just the greater world beyond that is ignoring us; our own little world is contemptuous of our status. Malay may be the national language, but Minister of Education Hishamuddin is inundated with applications from Malaysians wishing to enroll their children in international schools where the language is other than Malay. Hishamudin of course sends his daughter abroad. Rest assured they do not teach Malay there.

Malaysians may speak Malay but it is the debased (rojak) version. That is a reflection of utter contempt for the language, and not just by non-Malays. Malay may be the language of the land, but when I visit Malaysia I have difficulty finding books in Malay. Malay media capture only a tiny portion of the advertising dollar, again a reflection of the market’s valuation of the language. As for Malay schools, now elevated as “national schools,” even Malays are abandoning them.

More destructively, this collective delusion in our destiny to be Tuan encourages a variety of non-productive behaviors. We have leaders content only with endless speech making rather than bucking down to hard work; university vice chancellors who debase their titles with their singular lack of scholarly contributions; and civil servants who act as mini sultans (or Little Napoleons, in the Prime Minister’s words) of their departments. Executives of GLCs engage in nothing more than rent seeking behaviors, despite their hallowed titles as Chairman, CEO, and “Investment Banker.”

Such are the meaningless consequences of the empty promises of Ketuanan Melayu. It is a cruel hoax perpetrated upon our people by our very own leaders.

Be Competitive in Order to be Tuan

Ketuanan Melayu is premised upon false foundations. Tanah Melayu (Land of the Malays) or not, Malays are not ordained to be Tuan, in our own land or elsewhere. On the other hand, if Malays were competitive, rest assured that we would then be Tuans even in lands other than Tanah Melayu.

In my forthcoming book, Towards A Competitive Malaysia, I outlined a strategy for enhancing Malaysian, in particular Malay, competitiveness by focusing on four basic elements: leadership, people, culture, and geography. They make up my “Diamond of Development,” with each element forming one angle of the diamond. Each element is being influenced by and in turn influences the other three. When all four are favorable, they create a virtuous cycle, with each synergistically reinforcing the other three. Conversely when all elements are negative, there would be a rapid downward spiral.

Good citizens would insist on good leadership; and good leaders in turn invest in their people. Saddam Hussein would never have a chance being elected dogcatcher in America, and his sadism in turn has rubbed off on the Iraqis people.

Sophisticated leaders and citizens in turn would demand effective institutions (an element of culture). With good leadership and institutions, former poor fishing villages could become exclusive tourist resorts giving work to local citizens and boosting the nation’s economy, as we seen with Cancun, Mexico. With corrupt leaders and institutions, even sand could be made scarce in Saudi Arabia. Malaysia has over 100 inches of rain annually but its taps frequently run dry. Las Vegas, in the desert, sports swimming pools and fountains. Again, leadership and institutions make the difference.

Enhancing the quality of our people (human capital) require that they be healthy and be educated and trained. Health has less to do with expenditures on hospitals, doctors and modern medicine and more on such civil engineering marvels as central sewer and water treatment plants, affordable housing, and even availability of electricity (through better food refrigeration). Even education leads to better health, but a good education system is necessary for economic development. That the present system is wanting is obvious.

All these would be for naught if Malaysians were in conflict with one another. For any society, more so if it is a plural one, peace and harmony is a prerequisite for economic development. It is for this reason that I am alarmed at the increasing fragmentation of Malaysians and the deepening polarization among Malays.

The special privileges of the NEP should be used to enhance the competitiveness of Bumiputras, not to narcotize us with the delusion of Ketuanan Melayu. Before his “elegant silence,” Prime Minister Abdullah spoke bravely of the “The New Malay Dilemma,” of weaning Malays of the “special privilege” crutches. Characteristically, he recoiled at the first hint of resistance; he could not handle the keris-brandishing UMNO Youth leaders intent on having their regular special privileges “fix.”

We delude only ourselves if we think we can use the constitution, heritage, or some imagined social contract to make us Tuan. Malays have to disabuse ourselves of the false premise and promise of Ketuanan Melayu.

Neglecting Our Rich Heritage

SEEING IT MY WAY
Malaysiakini.com June 8, 2006

Editorial lead: The records and memoirs of our nation’s great leaders are either gathering dust in some forgotten corner if not already lost forever. This invaluable heritage of the nation needs to be preserved for posterity and we could start with veteran leaders who are still with us.

When diving off the Trengganu coast a few years back, I was saddened to see our beautiful coral reefs destroyed by careless anchoring and reckless pollution. While this devastation of our reefs and other invaluable national heritage is obvious, the non-recording of our history is equally a loss that is both irretrievable and immeasurable.

I felt this deeply when Tun Ismail Ali died a few years ago. I did not know this distinguished Malaysian except that he was the first Malay Queen’s scholar, an eminent banker, and a dedicated public servant. He gave much to the nation, but we hardly knew him, except through few mushy and ineloquent obituaries. The man did not leave his memoirs, and our historians and intellectuals have not deemed his considerable contributions merit proper recognition.

The Tunku’s Recollections

Many years ago I read Looking Back, a collection of essays by our first Prime Minister, Tunku Abdul Rahman. Here was a leader who brought our nation to independence peacefully, through shrewd negotiations and skillful diplomacy. It was an achievement sufficiently rare and unique; there were no lives lost through armed confrontations or glorified wars of independence. A truly grateful nation duly anointed him Bapak Malaysia (Father of Malaysia).

A few years later following the 1969 race riot, the nation quickly soured on him. He was literally hounded out of office, and then ignominiously ignored. In Looking Back, the old man bitterly lamented that even the country’s history books did not mention his name in retracing the nation’s struggle for independence. He ventured whether the many honors heaped upon him earlier had not been a cruel joke.

When the Tunku died, a significant part of our history went with him, never to be recovered. We will never know, for example, what prompted him to accept the invitation to head UMNO when its first leader, Onn Jaafar, sulked and abandoned it. Or how were the British leaders Anthony Eden and Harold McMillan in the pivotal negotiations for independence?

We now know how Lee Kuan Yew feels about Tunku, but what was Tunku’s take on Lee? Tunku must have intuitively sensed something about Lee to decide that Malaysia was better off without him. What went through Tunku’s mind when his beloved nation went on wild rampages that May of 1969? What were his dreams for the nation? These and a host of other questions will forever remain unanswered.

Tunku did leave some written records of his reflections. On his retirement, The Star was kind enough to hire him as a columnist. His columns were indeed very revealing. As expected, most were self-serving. Perhaps out of respect for the man or simply that the paper’s editorial standards were non-existent, the essays were rambling and lacked discipline. Nonetheless they were useful historical documents.

As for the Tunku’s voluminous personal papers, their whereabouts are not known. Our National Archives, universities, and other official custodians are curiously not interested in finding out, much less try to acquire them.

Ignoring Other Luminaries

Tun Ghaffar, another prominent player, died recently. Again, no one sought to document his views when he was alive, apart from a few trashy books.

We are still fortunate to have a few of the original participants in the birth of our nation still alive. Khir Johari is one. He was Tunku’s stalwarts and served in his first cabinet. Our historians and journalists should seize this opportunity while we still have him. I am no fan of his, but he was a participant in many of the seminal events in our nation’s history.

I remember Khir Johari as Minister of Education visiting my school in the 1950s. Even then I was unimpressed with him. Compared to my Oxford-trained headmaster, Khir was clearly out of the league. I shuddered to think that he was in charge of such an important portfolio. But he was, and we should record his impressions.

It is unfortunate that few of our leaders saw fit to write and document their experiences. Even if they were too busy, they should have at least authorized someone to write their biographies, or simply hire talented “ghost writers.”

The distinguished legal scholar and public servant Ahmad Ibrahim too died a few years ago. Although he had written extensively on scholarly legal issues, he did not see fit to pen his autobiography. The same could be said of Tun Suffian, another legal luminary.

The chronicles of these giants would inspire the younger set. At the very least, such accounts would help counter the ugly stereotype of Malay leadership and talent so shamelessly demonstrated by those currently in UMNO and PAS.

In this regard, Tun Mahathir is a refreshing departure. Not only has he written many books, he is now busy compiling his memoirs. Mahathir is also the rare leader who writes his own speeches and books; he prides in his own authorship. His style is also uniquely his: blunt and to the point.

Our hot humid climate is not kind to documents and personal papers. They must be carefully and professionally handled to maintain their physical integrity. Papers, photographs and other documents can rot quickly in our climate, be eaten by moths, or be bleached by the bright light. There are immense historical, esthetic and other values to these original artifacts. I would have loved to see the original scores of P. Ramlee’s many compositions.

Just as important to maintaining the documents’ physical integrity is respecting their confidentiality and owners’ wishes. The late Tun Ismail Abdul Rahman, a long time member of the Tunku’s cabinet, left his papers to an institution in Singapore. Apparently he did not trust Malaysian institutions to execute his instructions.

Many of these distinguished personalities have well educated children. It is surprising that few of them feel compelled to record their impressions of or pay tribute to their famous fathers and grandfathers. I would have loved to read what Hishamuddin remembers of his famous father and grandfather, both great figures in our history. I am of course assuming that Hishamuddin can write.

The widows of Tun Razak and Hussein Onn are still alive. More than any other person, they have spent more time with their illustrious husbands than anyone else. These women are valuable resources; they are our national heritage in their own right. Yet, like the hitherto beautiful corral reefs off Pulau Perhentian, these two dignified daughters of Malaysia remain ignored and not valued.

Modernize the Farmers, Then the Farms

The Ninth Malaysia Plan calls for heavy investment in the farm sector. Modernizing agriculture lies less with the paddy fields and palm oil plantations but more with the classrooms and lecture halls. Modernize the farmers, and they would modernize their farms.

Modernizing means more than just having modern implements, it involves fundamental changes in attitude towards farming, and of the farmers.

The K-Economy and Theory of Endogenous Growth

Consider this fictional account of two farmers. Both Ahmad and Bakar have the same size rice fields that are of equal fertility. Their method of farming remains unchanged, and their yields comparable. The only way to increase their output is through increasing the traditional “factors of production:” land (cultivate more); labor (planting twice a year); and capital (fertilizers, high-yield seeds). These have their limits and points of diminishing returns.

One day Ahmad noticed that a good portion of the seeds he sowed were eaten by birds. He reasoned that if he were to sow in the evening, by morning the seeds would be swollen by the dew and hidden beneath the moist soil, thus escaping the birds. He followed his intuition, and was duly rewarded by an increase in harvest.

Meanwhile Bakar stuck to tradition; who was he to change the ways of his forefathers. On seeing Ahmad’s success however, Bakar followed suit and was equally rewarded.

Ahmad went further. He discovered that by soaking his seeds in water impregnated with some bitter root substance that would deter the birds, his yield was increased even more. Soon he was selling his concoction. The more farmers use it, the greater the total village yield; there is virtually no limit to the increase. Everybody wins; the law of diminishing returns being inoperative. Such is the beauty and promise of the new “economic theory of endogenous growth.”

It is appropriate to reflect on what made Ahmad do what he did. He could be like Bakar and observe the practices of his ancestors. There is more than merely one defying tradition, and the other, a stickler to it.

Ahmad observed and learned from his environment. He noticed the birds and the dew, and their relationship to his seeds. He synthesized his observations, and then went ahead with a trial of his new insight. He was proven right and reaped a bounty. Intuitively, Ahmad is following the scientific method.

The question remains: How do we get more farmers to be like Ahmad? The assumption is that Ahmad and Bakar are not born with their traits. We can train farmers to be like Ahmad, to be innovative and productive, or to be like Bakar, resistant to change and unquestioningly accepting the status quo.

If we teach our young to be obedient to precedence (taqlid), follow tradition, and not to question established ways, then we are likely to get farmers like Bakar. The madrasahs are good at producing future Bakars. If we send our young to schools where they teach you to be observant, record your experiences, try to modify them and study their effects, that is, schools that emphasize the sciences, then we are likely to get Farmer Ahmad.

Then there is the role of culture. Things might not have worked out so wonderfully for Ahmad. His seeds could have been destroyed by mildew; and he would the butt of the villagers’ scorn. “See what you get for defying tradition!” Were that to happen, then it would discourage future budding Ahmads.

If the society were nurturing and supportive of change and had responded encouragingly, “It was a good idea though, what went wrong?” then it would more likely encourage future Ahmads. A Bill Gates would not likely emerge in a culture where dropping out of college would be considered a great shame on the individual and his or her family.

Productivity of American Farmers

American rice farmers drive luxury cars and vacation in exotic tropical isles while their Malaysian counterparts lead a subsistence living. Why the gap? Productivity!

The insight of modern economics is that knowledge, specifically scientific knowledge, trumps the traditional factors of production in enhancing growth.

American farmers are unbelievably productive. They usually have a degree from one of the A&M universities, and are well supported by intensive extension services from the Department of Agriculture and local universities. Its commitment to WTO notwithstanding, America provides generous subsidies.

Contrast that to Malaysian farmers. The rural schools they attend rarely offer classes even remotely related to farming. Worse, these schools are heavy on religions and light on the sciences.

There are very few vocational agricultural schools. It reflects the government’s shallow commitment to improving agriculture that these schools are not in the educational mainstream. Their students could not aspire to greater heights (like entering college or university); hence they have little motivation to excel.

Malaysia used to have the Agriculture College offering diploma programs. That institution is now a university, and there is a gap in the training of sub-professional personnel. Few of the public and none of the private universities offer farm related courses.

There is no institution devoted to training future farmers. Like every other human endeavor, practitioners in agriculture must be formally trained. The vast and substantive body of knowledge can no longer be passed from father to son as with subsistence farming. Future farmers must be as formally trained as future physicians.

The USDA has a fine stable of research facilities and its personnel heavy with science-trained individuals. The Malaysian Ministry of Agriculture is full of science-illiterate bureaucrats.

The US Secretary of Agriculture and his deputy are professed “farm boys.” Secretary Johanns describes himself as “a farmer’s son with an intense passion for agriculture.” It is doubtful whether his Malaysian counterpart could claim the same zeal.

Malaysia’s effort at modernizing agriculture thus far has been for the minister to endlessly exhort those poor and illiterate farmers to exploit the rich European markets. That reflects how far detached he is from the reality in the villages.

Modernizing Malaysian Agriculture

A good start at modernizing Malaysian agriculture would be to initiate a national tractor project. We have one for cars and motorcycles, why not tractors? That would boost the productivity of farmers. Failing that, the government could remove all taxes for farm equipment. At the very least, the Agriculture Department should have facilities where farmers could rent farm equipment cheaply. They used to have that under colonial rule.

To attract bright and enterprising individuals to agriculture, I would give scholarships to those who pursue it at university. I would scrap all scholarships for Islamic and Malay Studies and divert the funds to funding students in agriculture.

I would continue the support beyond graduation through subsidized loans and free public land if they promise to develop it for agriculture.

Then I would fund extensive extension services to support these well educated modern farmers. That is the only way to modernize agriculture. Anything less would be wishful thinking.

SEEING IT MY WAY
Malaysiakini.com May 10, 2006

From December to June, thousands of our young idle their time in the malls and elsewhere while waiting for their SPM (Form V) examination results. Then they wait whether they would be accepted into Sixth Form or matrikulasi (matriculation).

Those who can afford it, or have freed themselves from the dependency on the government, have wisely abandoned the system. They enroll their young in private institutions that prepare for foreign matriculation examinations.

The poor, and those who cling to the notion that the government knows best and are therefore psychologically dependent upon it, wait passively. They wait patiently for the bureaucrats in the Ministry of Education to determine their fate.

This being Malaysia, the race factor is never far. In the first group are mainly non-Malays; the second, Malays. That being the case, we should expect the Malay-controlled government to solve the problem long ago, as the beneficiaries would clearly be mostly Malays. It is both a paradox and a riddle that that is not happening.

In my book An Education System Worthy of Malaysia, I advocated de-emphasizing the SPM and extending the school years to Sixth Form for all.

SPM should merely be an in-progress report card, not a terminal examination. The areas tested should also be reduced to only the core subjects of English, Malay, science, and mathematics. This idea that students should be sitting for up to 15 subjects is ridiculous.

There will be some non-core elective subjects. These would be evaluated by the individual schools and teachers. Using statistical techniques to compare the schools’ composite SPM scores, it is possible to reduce considerably interschool variations in evaluations.

Revamp and Expand

The Sixth Form would have to be revamped and expanded away from only preparing students for university. That would still be the objective of the academic stream. However, there would also be vocational and general streams Sixth Form to cater for those not university bound.

Subjects like wood working, cooking, book keeping, and auto mechanics should be taught at vocational Sixth Form, just as they are being taught at American high schools. The curriculum could be integrated with the apprenticeship programs so that when the students completed their Sixth Form, they would be certified journeymen.

The general stream Sixth Form would prepare students for non-university institutions like nursing schools and teachers’ colleges. Even if they were to forego further education and enter the work force directly, they would be better prepared for having had the two extra years of schooling.

The academic steam would continue the current pattern of preparing students for universities.

I would broaden the curriculum to six subjects, with the four mandatory ones, and scrap the useless General Paper. The rigors of the subjects would have to be modified. The mathematics of the academic stream would include calculus and statistics, for the vocational stream, “consumer math.” Those pursuing the sciences would take physics, chemistry and biology; those opting for liberal arts, physical or life science; and in the vocational stream, general science.

Those in the Islamic stream too would have to take the four core subjects, plus their Arabic and Islamic Studies as the other two subjects. This would broaden the students’ intellectual horizon and career options. Even if they were to end up as religious officials, they would have a wider view of the world for having had a broad based education. That would be good for them and Islam.

All students, regardless of their ultimate career choices, would have 13 years of schooling and instructions in the four core subjects. That should prepare them well.

Cheaper Proposal

My proposal is also cheaper. Matrikulasi is expensive; scrap it and divert the funds to expand Sixth Form.

I would encourage through tax incentives and grants for private industry to sponsor or start their own vocational stream. Proton could start one preparing students to work in the auto industry. A group of hotels could start one focusing on the hospitality industry by training students to be chefs and waiters. A consortium of construction companies could start schools to train plumbers, welders and wood workers.

With the SPM testing fewer subjects, we would not have to wait months for the results. The transition from Form V to VI would be as smooth as from Form IV to V, with students starting their classes in January instead of six months later. With the non-core subjects evaluated continuously throughout the year by the schools, this would give yet another independent assessment of the students to complement the SPM.

There is no reason for our youngsters to waste the six to seven months from November to June. Similarly, our younger students are wasting their valuable time waiting for their SRP and UPSR results. These tests should be held done late in November so as to maximize the instruction hours. There is no reason why the Examination Syndicate (that conducts these public examinations) could not be more efficient. I am appalled that their staff are allowed to take their annual holidays at the end of the year, when that should be the busiest time of the year for them.

The present system has been in existence for decades; it is time for to examine it critically. At the very least my proposal would get rid of the current “mall rats;” at best, it would extend the instruction days and would make our young, and our nation, more competitive.

SEEING IT MY WAY www.Malaysiakini.com April 6, 2006

Let Air Asia and MAS Battle It Out

www.Malaysiakini.com April 6, 2006
SEEING IT MY WAY

Our civil servants have done it again! In their wisdom, they have divvied up the air routes between Malaysia Airlines (MAS) and Air Asia. With that, the flying public will now be well served, so those officials believed. Such hubris!

Our civil servants and leaders should disabuse themselves of their “fatal conceit” (Hayek’s phrase) that they could control the marketplace.

Neither MAS nor Air Asia has a right to exist; they have to earn it. Like other businesses, to survive they must provide services or products that the public wants. That is the essence of any enterprise.

Soviet factories were very productive in manufacturing goods. The only problem was, nobody wanted what they produced. Even if you could turn out what the customers wanted, you would not be successful if you could not sell for more than what it would cost to produce it.

Whether MAS or Air Asia “deserves” those routes will be determined ultimately by the flying public. This reality must be acknowledged; those civil servants delude themselves if they think otherwise. They would be better off doing something useful, like running the land office more efficiently. That is what they are being paid for.

More, Not Less, Competition

It would have been much easier, and more efficient, had the authorities simply liberalized the system and let any airline, foreign or domestic, fly any route. Let MAS battle it with Air Asia. Allocating the routes merely reduces competition for the two, but would not spare them from competition by other forms of transportation like trains and buses.

Soon executive jets powered by revolutionary micro engines will appear to provide “air taxi” service at a cost competitive to regular coach price. Already, the first few years of production are sold out, reflecting the demand. Meaning, expect more competition!

The best way to prepare our airlines – and Malaysians generally – for the increasingly competitive world is to expose them to greater, not less, competition. Divvying up air routes is not the way to go; instead, let them battle it out. Whoever serves the public better would survive and thrive. They would then be ready to take on the world. Coddling them would result in never ending subsidies.

Even if the airlines were to have a price war or indulge in predatory pricing (selling tickets cheaply with the intention of driving out the competition), the flying public would still benefit from the resulting cheap fares.

Flying is affordable and preferred mode of travel in America, thanks to deregulation. Legacy airlines like Pan Am have disappeared because they could not control their costs or serve their customers well, but they are being replaced by new players like Jet Blue. No one wants to return to the highly regulated days of yore.

Malaysia should be opening up its skies. Who cares how those tourists arrive or who owns the planes we fly in. We are concerned with safety, and price. This idea that every nation should have its own airline, or currency, is rubbish.

I enjoy MAS superior services; I have also not hesitated choosing other carriers when their price and schedule suited me better. I have no sense of reflected glory when flying MAS. I am grateful to the pilot, be he (or she) a Malaysian or foreigner, when we landed safely.

MAS continues to suffer massive losses despite the many attempts at cleansing its balance sheet. Its recent decision to sell its headquarters building eerily reminds me of the similar move made by Pan Am in the early days of deregulation.

Today the Pan Am building is worth considerably more, but the airline is long gone. Its previously hallowed brand fetched only a few thousand dollars at an auction. The government would do well to remember this; sell the airline but keep the real estate.

Malaysia would be better served if its civil servants were to focus on running the government and let the executives run their companies. As the major owner of MAS, the government has two choices: sell it, or change the management. The government had chosen the second option for now, but if that does not work, exercise the first. Making this explicit would focus the attention of those running the company. That can sometimes do wonders.

Body Languages of Leaders

To celebrate their carving up of the local flying market, the leaders of the two airlines posed for a photograph, flanked by their beautiful stewardesses. Idris Jalla, taking on the style of civil servants and other executives of GLCs, was in his suit and tie. This in hot and humid Malaysia! His Air Asia counterpart, Tony Fernandez, was in his T-shirt and wearing a baseball cap. Idris looked liked he was ready to head back to the comfort of air-conditioned suite; Tony Fernandez on the other hand was ready for some serious work under the blistering Malaysian sun. If I were to invest, I know which company to choose.

To be fair, Idris Jalla recently announced moving his headquarters staff to Sepang, to the factory floor as it were. Apart from reducing the overhead costs, the move would at least remove the distance and hence insulation between the managers and their customers. He has also promised to discontinue money-losing routes.

At least Idris Jalla is aware of the problems and taking steps to remedy them. The question is whether he could convince his civil servant and politician superiors that the solutions to Malaysia Airlines’s problems remain in the marketplace, not in the hallowed halls at Putrajaya. His challenge is to disabuse politicians and civil servants from their delusion that they could control the marketplace.

Tunku’s Tapes: More Than “Coffee Shop Talk”

Book Review: K. Das & The Tunku Tapes. Compiled and edited by Kua Kia Soong, Strategic Info Research Development, Petaling Jaya, 2002. 148 pages, RM 20.00.
(www.Malaysiakini.com March 3, 2006)

Editorial lead: The Tunku’s frankness was refreshing, except when he got carried with those he disliked. His disparaging personal remarks on Mahathir’s heritage were unbecoming and offensive.

In the 1980’s, while Tunku Abdul Rahman was alive and still very much in the news, I wrote to a number of Malaysian historians to interest them on an oral history project. It was to be modeled after the excellent ones at major American universities. As was the typical Malaysian response, I did not get any reply, except from one. Typically Malaysian again, he curtly responded that local history was not his specialty!

Mine was more than a mere suggestion; I offered to fund the program. My particular interest was Tunku, and the few surviving members of his first cabinet.

Little did I know that at the time a prominent journalist, K. Das, had been interviewing the Tunku for a planned biography. Sadly, Das died before he could complete his project. Fortunately his estate had made those tapes available. This book, K. Das & The Tunku Tapes, is the final product.

Limitations of the Written Word

Historians recognize the limitations of the written word as a historical source. Unlike the days of yore, today’s leaders rarely keep personal journals. While they give speeches and write official correspondents, for the most part those are “ghost written,” with specific audiences or political purposes in mind. There is minimal personal reflection.

The private communications of leaders today are rarely recorded, unless of course done secretly a la the Nixon White House. Some leaders do keep personal diaries, but more with their memoir in mind. Such notes thus serve to put the writer in a favorable light.
Modern technology makes voice and image recordings easy and cheap. The resulting materials can be digitized, archived, and disseminated with high fidelity without damaging the original.

There is more to an interview than merely placing a microphone in front of the subject and recording the ensuing conversations. Poorly done and you get nothing more than a rambling journey into nostalgia, or the settling of old scores. That is, coffee-shop talk.
Good interviews bring fresh insights or reveal hitherto unknown facts. They enhance our understanding of events.

It would be best to have institutional sponsorship of such projects. This point is validated by Das’ premature death, with the tapes entangled in probate. We thank the estate of Mr. Das for sharing these tapes. I would further urge that the tapes be donated to a university so scholars could readily access them.

Bringing out the Real Tunku

The book is “compiled and edited” by Kua Kia Soong, who has no less than 17 titles to his credit. I am familiar with Das’ work during his tenure at the Far Eastern Economic Review and enjoyed his crisp prose and incisive reporting. My expectations are therefore high.

After the foreword by Kua, the book begins with Das’ “Introduction” to what would have been his magnum opus, an authorized biography of the Tunku based on those tapes. My disappointment begins with the very first sentence; it is 118 words long! This is not the Das I remember from his FEER days. More likely, this was his initial rough draft; had he been alive, he would have definitely untangled it. He would never have let that kind of convoluted prose see the light of day. Either that or Das must have had some fine editors at FEER.

Kua should have been more respectful of the memory of his friend by polishing up the manuscript; editing means more than merely compiling.

Fortunately, that longwinded first sentence was the exception; the rest of the introduction was vintage Das, skillfully weaving snippets of the conversations with astute observations of the Tunkus’ relationships with his household help. What surprises me was that all of Tunku’s personal help were non-Malays. They doted on him, reverentially, fully aware that they were taking care and in the presence of a great man.

It is a tribute to Das’ literary skills that he successfully brought out the Tunku’s basic humanity, a man without pretensions despite his royal heritage and being a former Prime Minister. The Tunku was truly “a prince with the heart of a commoner.”

The Tunku readily admitted to his many personal failings, a humility rare among humans especially leaders. As for his well-known fondness for alcohol, haram (forbidden) in Islam, he had a disarmingly simple rational. He sought Allah’s forgiveness, and added that Allah would surely forgive him, certainly ahead of those leaders who oppress and torture their people. Iran’s Mullahs, please take note!

The rest of the book is a verbatim transcript of the interviews with Tunku, except for the last chapter, which is Kua’s tribute to Das.

This is raw – very raw – transcription, with no attempt at clarification or editing. Consequently there are many ambiguous and orphan pronouns. Readers have to pause and reconstruct the whole conversation to figure out to whom the “he” or “him” refers. Mildly irritating!

There were also no notes to place particular interviews in perspective. Unless one is familiar with the topical issues at the time of the recordings, it would be difficult to follow the conversations. It would have been helpful if Kua were to add background information to fill in the void.

More Reminiscing, Less Introspecting

These are less introspective sessions between a seasoned journalist and a retired statesman, rather of two old friends, full of admiration for one another, reminiscing.
The Tunku was amazingly frank in his opinions of the various personalities. Tuanku Mahmud, the King, was described as “mad, raving mad.”

Tunku’s frankness was refreshing, except when he got carried away with those he disliked. His disparaging personal remarks on Mahathir’s heritage were unbecoming and sullied the Tunku’s good natured image. Frankly, they were offensive.

The Tunku was indeed a cultured gentleman of the old world. I can see him being contemptuous of and unable to get along with those less refined like Lee Kuan Yew.

There were two events during Tunku’s tenure that represented polar extremes of his achievements: Malaysia’s independence and the May 1969 race riots. Alas there were minimal reflections on the two important episodes, a failure of both interviewer and interviewee.

These interviews were conducted in 1988 when the Tunku was 86 years old, physically frail but amazingly still mentally alert. His recollections may be selective and details of painful events forgotten, nonetheless the Tunku had done another great service to his beloved nation by giving these interviews. K. Das’ untimely death robbed the nation of what would have been a highly readable and perceptive biography of our first Prime Minister.

I have one suggestion: include a CD of the actual interviews, with appropriate introductory and clarifying remarks, with future editions.

SEEING IT MY WAY
www.malaysiakini.com

Elevating Eid-ul Adha

As I write this, it is Sunday evening here in California, according to the Gregorian scheme of things. To Muslims, it is already Monday, as the Muslim day begins with sunset. The Gregorian day does not end till midnight.

How we divide the 24-hour day is completely arbitrary. The day could just as well begin with sunrise or even midday.

Likewise, how a culture fathoms the year is also arbitrary. In temperate zones, with their well defined seasons, the Gregorian calendar based on the position of the sun relative to the earth is more useful. In the tropics, with the lack of seasons (except for wet and dry periods) and where the sun’s position is essentially constant, daily routines like the ebb and flow of tides are better correlated with the phases of the moon; hence the lunar calendar.

My point with this preamble is that we can look at the same reality from different and equally valid perspectives. It would be fruitful if we were to examine them with a view of understanding and learning, rather than from the assumption that one is necessarily better or superior. That is not to deny that given a set of circumstances, one perspective may be more useful and relevant. My emphasizing relativism does not imply that there are no absolutes.

Ethical Issues with Abraham’s Sacrifice

At this time, our fellow believers in Mecca are in the midst of performing their final rites of Hajj. The ninth day of Zul Hijjah is the Day of Arafat. The next day, Muslims all over will join in celebrating the pilgrims’ completion of their Hajj with the feast of sacrifice, the Eid-ul Adha.

On that occasion, Muslims will symbolically re-enact that ultimate sacrifice made in the name of piety by Prophet Abraham. The Prophet, in absolute submission to the Will and Command of Allah, sacrificed his beloved son Ismail, only to have God miraculously substituting at the very last moment a lamb for Abraham’s son.

The spirit of sacrifice, sharing, and altruism of Eid-ul Adha is apparent. The meat from the sacrifice will be distributed to the needy. The khatibs and imams in their sermons will once again remind believers of the central theme of our faith, complete submission to Allah, which is what Islam means.

Rarely addressed are the less obvious issues. How does Allah’s command to Abraham square with our concept of a Compassionate and Merciful Allah? How does the sacredness of a father’s love be reconciled with such divine demands? Equally intriguing is the extent of a son’s submission and obedience to his father. These and other issues also deserve attention.

The beauty of such discussions is that they could be tailored at all levels, from preschool classes to graduate seminars. The ethical dilemmas raised have also intrigued great philosophical minds of the past, Muslims and non-Muslims alike. We may usefully tap their insights.

Reason and Faith

There are those who believe that in matters of faith we cannot and should not apply rational analyses. We are to suspend our rational capacity on entering a mosque. I disagree. I believe that Allah in His Wisdom gave us an intellect, an attribute unique only unto humans, for a reason. We value this divine gift by fully utilizing it.

A hadith has it that the angel Gabriel descended upon Adam and said to him, “God has commanded me to let you choose one of three gifts: intellect, religion or modesty.” Adam replied, “I choose intellect.” Whereupon modesty and religion added, “Then, we shall abide with you, O Adam, as God has commanded us to accompany intellect wherever it may be.”

The jurist Muhammad Jawad Mughniyah argues in his book, al Islam Wa al’Akl (Islam and Reason), that whatever the intellect rejects has no place in religion. More importantly, as long as religion remains inseparable from intellect, closing the door of ijtihad (rational discourse) will mean closing the door of religion, because ijtihad by definition means freeing the intellect from restraints and allowing it room to extract problems from their roots (ushul).

Muslim scholars of the 10th century, in their supreme confidence (if not arrogance), declared that all major issues of the faith have been resolved and that no new inquiry is warranted, the so-called “Closing of the Gate of Ijtihad.” All we need do is simply follow the dictates of these scholars.

To Mughniyah, those who fanatically assert the supremacy of any mazhab (Islamic school of thought) is worse than the ignorant because their fanaticism idolizes an individual (imam or founder of that mazhab) instead of Islam itself. Our intellect does not require us to exclusively follow any given mazhab.

Instead of increasing our understanding of Islam and bringing Muslims together, the various mazhabs divide us. They also prevent us from exploring and benefiting from the vast richness of our faith and tradition.

Mughniyah further asserted that opposing a mazhab – or even its imam – does that mean opposing Islam and its essential truth. We should follow Islam as dictated by our respective intellectual understanding and perception.

Unnecessary Controversies

Muslims are divided not just by sects and mazhabs but also over the simplest and minor details of our faith. Take the timing of Eid-ul Adha. There are those who believe that we should celebrate it at the same time as those of our fellow believers in Mecca. Taken literally, this would mean that in some areas Eid-ul Adha would be celebrated at midnight! Then there are those who believe that it should be celebrated on the 10th day of Zul Hijjah, based on the local moon sighting.

This controversy rages on. The American Muslim community is divided, with some celebrating Edi-ul Adha on Tuesday, others on Wednesday.

While “local” is readily definable for the remote villages of the Third World, it is problematic for America. The crescent that would not be visible at sunset in the Maritime province would become clearly visible at sunset in the west coast, several time zones away. Where does “local” end?

In this day of satellites, we still depend on visual sightings to declare an important event. No surprise then that the Muslim calendar as presently constituted has little utility in the modern world. Imagine making an appointment for the next month, not knowing exactly what day that would be!

It is as if we have to look for sunrise to begin our fajar prayers, and whether a dark thread is indistinguishable from white thread to determine the time for maghrib. We certainly would be following the dictates of some ancient texts and teachings, not to mention that it would be quaint and very traditional. Today however, we look at our watches.

A century ago, when you told a Bedouin, “It is 5 PM,” he would likely respond, “Is that before or after Asar?” Today, you would likely get the question, “What time is Asar?”

There are other practical consequences for these needless controversies. Neighboring communities may celebrate Eid on different days, and we have to book prayer halls for two successive days just in case the moon is not sighted as predicted. We needlessly double our expenses, resources that could have been used for better purposes like helping the poor.

These irrelevant and non-productive controversies do not increase our understanding of our great faith. These are problems not looking for a solution; they are problems because we make them so. Our faith should not be reduced to such trivialities.

We must use our collective intellect to elevate Islam to its rightful lofty level. In celebrating Eid-ul Adha, let us pay tribute to our fellow believers who have completed their pilgrimage. We pray that Allah accepts their Hajj. Let us also make our own sacrifices in the name of Allah for the betterment of our fellow beings and ourselves.