The Imprisoned Malay Mind The Greatest Obstacle

March 8th, 2016

 

The Imprisoned Malay Mind The Biggest Obstacle

M. Bakri Musa

www.bakrimusa.com

 

Fourth of Six Parts

 

In the first three essays I pointed out that the Malay problem is real and not a mere myth. It is also solvable and not unique unto our community. Thus there is much that we can learn from others.

 

I posited that the four critical foundations of society – leadership, citizenry, culture, and geography – interact with one another in a feed-back loop mechanism. Where the interaction is positive, that society would advance fast; where negative, it would be in a quick downhill slide.

 

Of the four, only geography is immutable. Of the remaining three, leadership is the easiest to change; culture, most difficult.

 

The greatest barrier to changing and emancipating our people is our closed minds. The Malay mind has been trapped, or more correctly imprisoned into believing that our world beneath the coconut shell is perfect despite the obvious evidence to the contrary. We are reminded of this harsh reality often, and in ways that are unpleasant or even crude. We don’t like it a bit and we lash out at and blame others.

 

The worst prison is one without walls or fences. Then you do not even realize that you are being imprisoned. In San Diego Zoo there is a small island surrounded by a moat no wider than a few feet. The deer on the island could easily hop over but they do not because they do not feel being imprisoned and thus have no need to escape.

 

However, if you were to fence the island, those animals would be pacing the perimeter looking for a break to escape.

 

Likewise, the Malay mind; it does not realize it is being imprisoned underneath the coconut shell. To that mind the world under the shell in the entire universe, and it is cozy and comfortable, sheltered from the harsh blistering tropical sun, thank you very much! There is no need to escape.

 

That sense of security and comfort however, is illusory. The digital waves have already breached our coconut shell, and with impunity. Whether we realize it or not, and whether we like it or not, those cooped up under the coconut shell are increasingly becoming aware of the vast wonderful world outside. They may not as yet be able to experience the physical reality of that world but at least they can partake in it virtually.

 

That however only whets the appetite, leading to increasing frustration and consequent agitation. Make no mistake; our coconut shell will be toppled. It is inevitable. The only question is when, how, by whom, and whether under controlled conditions or a free-for-all.

 

When the toppling is done by us and under our control, we could choose the timing and adjust the pace to suit us, thus eliminating or at least minimizing possible collateral damages. If our coconut shell were to be toppled as a consequence of swirling external events and thus beyond our control, then we would be reduced to being hapless victims, begging for the mercy and kindheartedness of others. The consequences would be equally ugly if our coconut shell were to be toppled because of internal explosion.

 

The coconut shell of the Arabs was toppled by events beyond their control. Those Arabs are still not yet done paying the severe price of their Arab Spring.

 

We must not only prepare our people to topple their coconut shell but also make them ready for the ensuing wide open world. If they are not, then they would find the new world not only blindingly bright but also very disorienting. Their immediate reaction then would be to scramble and find another coconut shell to hide under and seek comfort.

 

Helping them topple their own coconut shell would also simultaneously prepare them in adjusting to the new wide open world.

 

The Malay mind is imprisoned as a consequence of many factors, among them our warped interpretation of our religion, our corrupt and inept leadership, our crumbling and ineffective institutions, and the residuum of our previous regressive feudal culture. These elements also retard or discourage our active participation in the world of business. Engaging in trade and commerce is a powerful instrument in toppling our coconut shell.

 

In an earlier book, Malaysia in the Era of Globalization, I remarked how eerily the Malaysia of today resembles the Ireland of the 1950s. Malays today, like the Irish then, are in the tight clutches of religion (Islam for Malays, Catholicism for the Irish).

 

Young Malays flock to study Arabic, hadith, and revealed knowledge, instead of English, science, and mathematics. The Irish then fled to the convents and monasteries to recite their rosaries and memorize the catechism. Malays today are in the psychological grips of their ulamas and ustazes, just as the Irish were with their bishops and priests.

 

The Irish then were consumed with trying to resurrect their dead language, Gaelic. Malays today are obsessed with making sure that their young do not study any other language but Malay. Learning another language, in particular English, is seen as an expression of hatred for one’s own.

 

In business, the major enterprises in Malaysia today are in the hands of the Chinese minority, and politics with the Malays. In Ireland then, the major businesses were in English hands while the Irish were consumed with republican politics and endless dreams of reunification with the North. With Irish education tightly under Church control and consumed with religious instructions, the leading intellectual centers were naturally the Protestant-affiliated universities.

 

If there were any ambitious Irish parents who dared dream of a better future for their children by enrolling them in the much superior English schools, they risked being excommunicated. That is, being considered a murtad, in local lingo.

 

Sounds familiar?

 

In Malaysia, the schools favored by Malays are the religious and national schools with their heavy emphasis on religion, while non-Malays choose vernacular schools and private English-language colleges with their emphasis on science, technology, and other secular subjects.

 

It took one man, Sean Lemass, Prime Minister from 1959–66, to lead the quiet revolution in Ireland. He began by clipping the powers and influences of the Catholic Church by stripping its control over education and social policies. Freed from the suffocating control of the Church, the Irish could abandon their inferior Catholic schools and colleges to attend the much superior English universities without fear that they would be (or seen as) committing a sin. Likewise, they could use contraceptives without fear of eternal damnation, or more practically, of being condemned by their priests and bishops.

 

Lemass also liberalized the media including state-owned ones. They could now show foreign programs thus exposing the Irish to the greater outer world. He not only tolerated but also encouraged criticisms of his leadership and policies, a reflection of his confidence and competence

 

Despite the Irish antipathy towards things English, he made English, not Gaelic, the language of Ireland. Lemass was a pragmatic leader.

 

It took nearly fifty years for Ireland to achieve its present prosperity following the reforms Lemass initiated in the 1950s. If a Malaysian Lemass were to appear today, we could look forward to 2065 before Malaysia—in particular Malays—could be considered developed.

 

We have many potential Lemasses in our midst. The challenge is to vote them into power instead of keeping the present crop of crippled and corrupt OKUs (Orang Kuat UMNO). Lemass liberated the Irish from their invisible prison. Our Lemass too would do likewise to Malays.

 

Next: Fifth of Six Parts:  Leveraging Islamic Financial Instruments

 

Speech delivered at the launching by Tan Sri Rafidah Aziz of my book, Liberating The Malay Mind, on January 30, 2016, at Shah Alam.

Four Factors The Determine The Fate of a Society

February 29th, 2016

Four Factors That Determine the Fate of a Society

  1. Bakri Musa

www.bakrimusa.com

 

Third of Six Parts

 

In my earlier two essays I highlighted the issues surrounding the “Malay Problem.” I suggested that it is not unique unto our community. As such, there is much that we could learn from others, from successful societies on what to do, and the unsuccessful ones on what not to do.

 

There are four critical factors that determine the fate of a society: leadership; people; culture (this includes institutions, governmental as well as non-governmental, religious as well as non-religious); and geography. In an earlier book, Towards A Competitive Malaysia, I put forth the concept of the “Diamond of Development,” with each factor interacting with and influencing the other three.

 

For example, wise leaders would invest in their citizens, ensuring that they would receive good education so they could make better and more informed decisions, as well as be more productive. Good leaders also foster good institutions, and protect the country’s natural resources and the environment. Educated and wise citizens would in turn elect prudent leaders, and the positive-loop feedback would rapidly lead to a quantum leap in the advancement of that society.

 

The reverse is also true. Meaning, a corrupt leader would bribe his way to power by literally buying citizens’ votes. Corrupt citizens would reinforce this negative loop feedback by electing even more corrupt leaders, and a vicious cycle thus ensues. Once that takes hold, the rapid and irreversible decline of a nation into another Nigeria or Pakistan is all but certain. Malaysia is on that rapid downward trajectory today under Najib’s leadership.

 

The perversity is that Najib does not consider his buying of citizens’ votes as a corrupt act. On the contrary he deems that an act of public service!

 

Let’s explore the interactions of leaders, people, and culture towards geography. Take Norway and Saudi Arabia. Both are blessed with an abundance of oil. In Saudi Arabia all you have to do is drill a hole in the desert sand and the oil would gush out. In Norway the oil is below the deep frigid North Sea, swept by huge waves and strong winds. Its oil is considerably more difficult and expensive to extract.

 

When oil was first discovered there in the 1970s, the Norwegians pretended that they did not have the windfall and saved nearly all their oil earnings. After all they had lived for centuries without the oil bonanza; they saw no reason to change their lifestyle and be suddenly profligate.

 

As a result, today the Norwegian oil trust fund is expected to reach a trillion (a million million) US dollars by 2020. If all economic activities in the country were to cease, the Norwegians could still live quite well off their trust fund’s earnings.

 

At another level, because of the fund’s size Norway could impose its own standards for ethical investing. Its investment policies are much more “Islamic” than those of the Saudis. The Norwegians have for example, divested from such local Malaysian companies as Samling Global for its illegal logging activities and horrible environmental and ecological practices, as well as from Singapore Engineering Technologies for its production of landmines.

 

Back to the Saudis, with the drop in oil price, they are now facing a deficit. One could easily imagine those Bedouins reverting to their primitive desert existence once their oil runs out.

 

Similar geographic blessings, but what a difference in the fate of the two societies simply because of the differences in leadership, people, and culture.

 

A more local and sinister example of leader/geography toxic dynamics is demonstrated by the environmental disaster now poisoning Kuantan from bauxite mining. The worse part is that no official, from federal ministers down to the state chief minster, displays any sense of urgency or in any way demonstrates concerns on the ongoing environmental catastrophe. The sultan, despite his frequent public claims of looking after his subjects’ interests, remains curiously silent.

 

Of the four factors, only one cannot be changed, and that is geography. Why a country is blessed with oil or cursed with typhoons and earthquakes, Allah hu alam (only Allah knows).

 

Of the remaining three factors, the easiest to change is leadership. A single bullet eliminated Egypt’s Anwar Sadat and South Korea’s General Pak. The most difficult to change is culture. Even the most determined leader like Mahathir had to admit defeat in this endeavor.

 

People on the other hand are more amenable to change, and quickly too, both individually and as a society. My Iban friend Thaddeus Demong remembers vividly his headhunter father scalping Japanese soldiers during the war. Through superior education and in only one generation, the young Demong was transformed to a well-known corneal transplant surgeon in Canada.

 

I used to tease Dr. Demong that the only difference between him and his late father is this. Demong Junior is more refined in his skills, harvesting only the corneas rather than the whole head, and getting very well compensated for that!

 

On a societal level, Lee Kuan Yew transformed Singapore Chinese from one prone to uncouth loud hacking and disgusting spitting on the streets to the most hygienic Asian community. Visit Beijing and Singapore; the residents in both cities are Chinese, but what a difference in their level of personal and social hygiene! When those mainland Chinese visit the island republic, you can tell them apart right away from the local variety.

 

In Liberating The Malay Mind I explore the ways in which Malays can change, as individuals as well as a society. I examine what it is about us, individually as well as collectively, such that we have not been able to change for the better during these past few generations.

 

Next: Fourth of Six Parts:  Our Closed Minds The Biggest Barrier

 

Speech delivered at the launching by Tan Sri Rafidah Aziz of my book, Liberating The Malay Mind, on January 30 at Shah Alam.

February 22nd, 2016

The “Malay Problem” Is Not Unique Unto Us
M. Bakri Musa
www.bakrimusa.com

Second of Six Parts

In Part One I argued that the “Malay Problem” is real and not simply a myth. As such we could study, analyze and research it systematically so as to enable us to craft sensible solutions and develop pilot programs to overcome it. In short, a problem is potentially solvable, in contrast to a mere myth where we would have to employ dukuns to exorcize our demons.

In this essay I argue that our problem is not unique unto our community. A just and compassionate Allah would not single out Malays to be thus burdened. Nor have our ancestors committed grievous sins for Allah now to punish us, their zuriats (descendants).

The corollary to my observation is that there is much that we can learn from others, from those who have been successful on what to do, as well as from those not so lucky on what not to do.

Lessons From Others

When I lived in Montreal in the 1970s, I was struck by the barely-concealed contempt the English-Canadians had of their French-speaking compatriots. Struck not by its strangeness rather its familiarity, what with memories of Malaysia of the 1950s still fresh in me, and reinforced by my having visited Malaysia during the height of the May 1969 race riots.

Those Francophones were interested only in their beer, weekend frolics, and making babies, the English-Canadians sneered. Come Sunday morning those French-Canadians would flock to their churches to confess their sins. Cleansed and refreshed, by Monday they would start the whole destructive cycle all over again.

McGill University, the country’s premier institution, was then conspicuous for its rarity of Francophone students. Sounds all too familiar at that time to a Malaysian.

A few decades earlier and across the Atlantic in Ireland, the dynamics between the majority Catholic Irish and minority Protestant English too seemed deja vu to a Malaysian. The mutual contempt and disdain they had for each other would every so often erupt into their own version of “May 13 incident.” Again, all too familiar to a Malaysian!

If any Irish parents then were to aspire higher and dream of a better future for their children by enrolling them in the much superior “godless” Protestant English schools and colleges, they risked being excommunicated. That is, being a murtad, to put in local lingo, by the Catholic Church.

Meanwhile in Italy, those northerners considered their compatriots from the south as all gangsters and members of the mafia. If only it could get rid of the southern part of the country, Italy would be crime-free and fast become an economic power, those northerners claimed.

There are other ready examples. In my book, Malaysia in the Era of Globalization, I noted the remarkable similar dynamics we Malays had vis a vis the English colonialists as the Koreans their Japanese colonizers. Granted, Korea’s colonization was much briefer, but its brutality was unmatched. For example, those Koreans were not allowed even to speak their language; they also had to “Japanize” their names.

Today, the Irish and South Koreans are very different societies. Consider that Ryan Air, the Dublin-based discount airline, once attempted a takeover of venerable British Airways! As for South Korea, Samsung smart phones have bested even Apple’s. Even rice cookers are now Korean-made, eclipsing Japan’s National brand.

As for the French-Canadians, consider that Hydro Quebec is the world’s largest generator of renewal energy through its hydroelectric plants while Bombardier, the original skidoo manufacturer started by a French-Canadian mechanic in his garage, is a leader in regional jets and rapid transit transportation. Meanwhile the next President of Stanford is a French-Canadian, and not just any French-Canadian but one who was the first in his immediate family to attend college.

Going back to the Ireland of the 1950s, substitute Irish for Malays, the English for non-Malays (the Chinese specifically), Catholicism for Islam, and the entrenched clergy class for JAKIM and our government-issued ulamas, the social dynamics would be eerily comparable.

In Malaysia in the Era of Globalization I also cited a negative example, Argentina. A century ago it was a shining star, “The Land of Silver.” Today it struggles through one crisis after another, economic and otherwise.

My point here is that the so-called “Malay Problem” is not unique unto us. Societies that were once colonized or one just emerging from peasantry and subsistence existence share similar tribulations. And Malay society is both.

The corollary to my observation is that there is much that we can learn from the Irish, French-Canadians, and South Koreans on what to do, as well as from the Argentineans on what not to do.

There is yet another though minor facet to the Malay problem, and I will illustrate it thus. I know of many Malays who have graduated from elite American universities or have succeeded in America, but they are not from Malaysia, or if from there originally now no longer consider themselves Malaysians except perhaps only emotionally.

Consider that the first Malay Harvard PhD was not from Malaysia but Thailand, Surin Pitsuwan. He received his degree 18 years before Perak’s Raza Nazrin had his. Raza Nazrin was a crown prince while Surin was an ordinary citizen from impoverished southern Thailand. Ponder that!

Yet another observation. At one time there were more Malays from Singapore than from Malaysia at UC Berkeley. Last, I know of many Malay medical specialists in America, but again only a few are from Malaysia. The others came from such places as South Africa and Sri Lanka.

You can bet that there are no Ketuanan Melayu doctrines in those countries.

I once chided an important visitor from Malaysia who could not stop bragging about his son attending a third-rate American university on a Malaysian government scholarship. I reminded him not-so-subtly that the man driving him around during his visit to California, a Malay originally from Kedah, had a son who graduated from the University of Southern California, an elite campus, sans any MARA or government scholarship.

When I told Ahmad Sabian that I have more respect for him than those Malaysian “big shots” he was driving around, he could not hold back his tears, the tears of joy, pride and accomplishment.

Today, nearly six decades after merdeka, with the sultans and prime ministers being Malays, a government almost exclusively in Malay hands, and a national constitution that blatantly favors our community, we are still left behind. I explore this paradox in my next essay.

Next: Third of Six Parts: Four Foundations That Would Determine the Fate of A Society

Speech delivered at the launching by Tan Sri Rafidah Aziz of my book, Liberating The Malay Mind, on January 30 at Shah Alam.

Endless, Meaningless Debates on “The Malay Problem”

February 15th, 2016

Endless, Meaningless Debates on “The Malay Problem”

M. Bakri Musa

www.bakrimusa.com

 

First of Six Parts

 

For as long as I can remember, the so-called Masaalah Melayu (“The Malay Problem”) has been stridently debated ad nauseam. Endless meaningless seminars, symposiums and “kongresses,” have been devoted to it, not to mention the countless discussions at Pak Mat’s warong kopi in Kota Baru to the lofty ministerial suites at Putrajaya

 

I am now entering the seventh decade of my life. Chances are that when my grandchildren become grandparents, our community would still be debating the issue.

 

Pendita Zaaba was the first to coin the phrase “Masaalah Melayu.” In his prolific writings he would never cease to menegur (chastise) our community for our spendthrift ways, our not emphasizing education for our young, and our myopic interpretations of our great faith of Islam.

 

Earlier in the 19th Century, Munshi Abdullah wondered out loud what it was about our community that we were not at all curious about and thus not eager to learn from the English. Yes, they were our colonizers, but surely as Abdullah noted, there must be something that we could learn from a society that brought in the Age of Enlightenment as well as ushered in the Industrial and Scientific Revolutions.

 

More recently there was Datuk Onn, arrogantly wanting to membetulkan orang Melayu (to correct the Malays). To him we were but wayward children who needed to be whipped into shape.

 

Then there was Mahathir who thought that Malays were OKU, a Malay acronym for those who are challenged, mentally, physically and in many other ways. His messianic mission was to change us, our culture as well as our biology. He too failed; he could not even change his own OKUs (Orang Kuat UMNO – diehard UMNO supporters).

 

Compared to those giants, today’s Perkasa’s Ibrahim Ali and other strident champions of Ketuanan Melayu are but mere pygmies. Giants or pygmies, the results of their efforts are, well, we are still discussing the issue.

 

I likened the “Malay Problem” to an elephant in a dark room. What these giants and pygmies had done was merely to shine the light from only one angle, the rear. No surprise that what they saw was its posterior and all its ugliness. They also dared not examine the view closely for fear of being whipped by the beast’s tail, or worse, get sprayed.

 

In my book Liberating The Malay Mind, as well as in all my earlier books, I shine the light from as many different angles as possible so as to get a better appreciation of the magnitude and complexity of the problem, as well as all its myriad manifestations.

 

I begin by posing four fundamental questions. One, what is meant by the phrase “The Malay Problem?” Two, is it a genuine problem or merely a myth? Three, if it is the former, is it unique only unto Malays? And four, why is it now with Malaysia about to celebrate its Diamond Anniversary of Merdeka, with the sultans and prime ministers being Malays, the government almost exclusively in Malay hands, as well as a constitution that is blatantly favoring our community, Malays are still left behind?

 

My Liberating The Malay Mind explores this particular question. Before proceeding, I will briefly dispose of the first three.

 

The meaning of the phrase “The Malay Problem” is best answered through a series of illustrations rather than with a formal definition.

 

If you, a Malay, has a leaky pipe at home or a broken air-conditioner, who would you most likely call to fix the problem? Ahmad, Ah Chong, Arumugam, or even not a Malaysian?

 

Walk along any street of any town. You don’t see many signboards touting Rahimah Restaurant, Halimah Hair Saloon, or Aziz Accountancy Services. Don’t keep your eyes off the road too much in looking for those signboards lest you risk being run down by those road roaches, the Mat Rempits on their ear-splitting motorcycles.

 

Incidentally where would those Mat Rempits go to have their machines fixed?

 

Yes, we have ZICO, the country’s largest law firm founded by Datuk Zaid Ibrahim. Such successes however are the “outliers,” not reflective of the norm.

 

Then open up the daily papers. The headlines are of hundreds of thousands of unemployed graduates, babies abandoned in toilets and ditches, and the epidemic of drug addicts and HIV sufferers ravaging our society.

 

You do not need to read the World Bank Reports or expensive consultants’ studies to realize that our community is fast being marginalized in our own Tanah Melayu.

 

Even by the government’s own accounting, our contribution to the economy barely exceeds 20 percent, despite we being in the majority. Take away the role of the government-linked companies (GLCs), and our contribution is but in the single digits, percentage wise.

 

The “Malay Problem” is real, not just a mere myth. Noam Chomsky differentiates between a problem and a myth thus. With a problem you could study, analyze and research it, hire experts to help you, and design pilot programs to overcome it. When you have a successful initiative, expand on it. Likewise, when you have an ineffective one, terminate it right away and learn from the experience. In short, a problem is potentially solvable.

 

With myths on the other hand, you would need a shaman or dukun. He would chant mysterious verses, invoke unseen forces, burn incense, cook yellow saffron rice, and slaughter black cockerels to appease those evil spirits.

 

Malays behave as if we are being bedeviled by myths and not problems. We invoke various hantus (devils) as sources of our difficulties, as with the hantu of colonialism, hantu pendatang (immigrants), hantu capitalism, and the latest, hantu globalization and hantu “Islam liberal.”

 

The “Malay Problem” is real, not a mere myth ala Syed Hussein’s Myth of the Lazy Native. The next query then is whether our problem is unique only unto us. I will explore this and the other two questions in subsequent essays.

 

Next: Second of Six Parts – The Malay Problem Is Not Unique Unto Us

 

Speech delivered at the launching by Tan Sri Rafidah Aziz of my book, Liberating The Malay Mind, on January 30 at Shah Alam.

Unsolicited Advice to Young Malaysians

February 2nd, 2016

Unsolicited Advice to Young Malaysians
M. Bakri Musa
www.bakrimusa.com

I enjoy giving talks to Malaysian students. It is invigorating to be with the young; their passion, enthusiasm and idealism do rub off on me.

My hope is that when they become leaders they will hold as role models the likes of Hang Nadim and Hang Jebat, and emulate the giants in our history like Munshi Abdullah and Datuk Onn. I also hope that they will be as innovative as Ungku Aziz and Raja Petra, and like them, not be trapped by the conventional wisdom. Most of all I hope they will be as diligent and resourceful as Badri Muhammad.

In my advice to students, I remind them that their future is in their own hands. No one, not their parents, advisors on campus and the embassy, or sponsors back home, knows what is best for them. I tell these students that those other people may be sincere when offering their advice but they have not traveled the same path you have taken or experienced the challenges you have faced.

Most of all they will not be the ones to bear the consequences of your decision. By all means listen to their counsel, but in the end the decision is yours. About all the others could do after offering their advice would be to also offer you their prayers and best wishes. They should support, not veto your decision.

I claim no originality to that piece of advice. This was what my late father passed on to me. I have found it useful, hence my sharing it. We all wish our young to have calm seas ahead and fair winds behind. However if they do encounter the inevitable squalls, they should be ready to trim their sails and batten their hatches. As for the swells, they should have their surfboards ready to ride the waves and take in the exhilaration!

That is what a free mind does; turns adversities into opportunities. Suharto imprisoned Prameodya Ananta Toer, but only his body. His mind was free, free to craft his world-acclaimed Buru tetralogy. He created his own freedom. That is what we should all aspire to.

Likewise when Hamka was imprisoned, also by that goon Suharto, he wrote his multivolume and authoritative Tafsir Al Azhar, a commentary, not a translation of the Holy Koran. In his later years Hamka would muse that had he not been imprisoned he would probably have not written that Tafseer as he would be too busy giving lectures and khutbas!

As a coda I quote our great poet Usman Awang; he said it best in the last-but-one verse of his poem, Melayu (Malay), on the essence of a free mind.

Melayu

Jangan takut melanggar pantang
Jika pantang menghalang kemajuan;
Jangan segan menentang larangan
Jika yakin kepada kebenaran;
Jangan malu mengucapkan keyakinan
Jika percaya kepada keadilan.

My translation:

Malay

Fearlessly breach the fortress
If it blocks your progress!
If needed, be brusque
In pursuit of the truth.
Be unashamed of your conviction
Let justice be your declaration.

There are so many larangans (obstacles) in the life of a Malaysian today. We must menentang (oppose) them if we yakin kepada kebenaran and percaya kepada keadilan (have faith in the truth and believe in justice).

Kemajuan (progress), kebenaran (truth) and keadilan (justice); a free mind will hold those in high esteem and vigilantly guard against those who would erode or corrode those pristine values.

Adapted from the author’s book, Liberating The Malay Mind, published by ZI Publications. The revised second edition was released on January 30th, 2016.

My Tribute to Badri bin Muhammad, PhD

January 25th, 2016

My Tribute to Badri bin Muhammad, PhD
M. Bakri Musa
www.bakrimusa.com

Last and for a very special reason, I will cite another example of a free mind, Dr. Badri bin Muhammad. Badri was special to many, most immediately his wife and fellow Professor of Chemistry Karen Crouse, and their children Susanna, Adam, Diana, Nadira, and grandson Mitchell.

Once on meeting a group of Malaysian graduate students here in America, a few happened to have attended University Putra Malaysia. To my query whether they knew of Badri, one bright student beamed widely, “Yes, he was my wonderful chemistry professor!” and the others quickly joined in the praise. Very effusive and very heartfelt, those students were among Badri’s many legacies.

Badri died recently after a brief illness. He was special to me as we had been dear friends for a long time and shared so many bonds. Our wives knew each other well and so did our children who were of comparable ages.

Both of us came from rural Malaysia; he from Ulu Kelantan; I, Ulu Muar, Negri Sembilan. Like me, Badri went to Malay College for his Sixth Form but our years there did not overlap; he came right after I left. We met a few years later in Canada when he spent a summer as an undergraduate doing research at the University of Alberta where I was a medical student. We met by chance on campus, and typically Malaysian, he moved that very evening into the apartment I shared with a fellow medical student from Sarawak, Thaddeus Demong.

It also did not take Badri very long to take over our kitchen after tasting our version of Malaysian cuisine, and our nutrition improved considerably thereafter. I remember well his Canadian variation of our sambal, with an extra generous helping of onions and vinegar!

Later that summer we met a group of young Malaysian nurses attending a course on campus. They were taking the same classes as the Canadian degree student nurses, but because those Malaysians had only Form Five qualifications, they could not be formally registered as undergraduates. Also typically Malaysian, those nurses took that restriction in stride.

Not Badri, however. He encouraged the nurses to enroll in a summer course to qualify for formal university admission, with Badri volunteering to coach them especially in the sciences, in return for their cooking us dinners. Badri had earlier served as a temporary science teacher in Malaysia.

The girls took his advice and worked hard all summer, driven by Badri’s firm but kind tutelage. As expected with good teaching, all five passed their “departmentals” and were allowed to formally register as undergraduates that fall. Thus instead of getting merely a “certificate of completion,” those nurses became the first Malaysians to have a degree in nursing. One of them, Nik Safiah Ismail, would later become dean of nursing at UKM and a UN consultant.

That was Badri; he saw opportunities where others would passively accept constraints as the normal order of things.

Universiti Putra Malaysia was Badri’s academic home; he was a true scientist, passionate about his research. While others were consumed with lobbying for senior administrative positions, Badri was busy guiding his doctoral students and pursuing his passion – research.

For many years he stayed on campus; it was always a joy to visit him and his family there. The UPM campus is one of the most scenic, set in a lush valley away and protected from the urban hustle and bustle not too far away. My blood pressure would drop noticeably whenever I visited them. I always enjoyed those visits; strangely we did not bitch about Malaysia, instead we were busy sharing our experiences in our respective fields and comparing the differences between “bench” versus clinical research.

Badri was the first person I confided in when I decided to leave Malaysia. Like a true friend he was not at all shy in letting me know of his severe disappointment. But also like a true friend, he was supportive of my decision.

At that time the Badris had a daughter and son, both of comparable ages to my daughter and older son. In the first few years after I left, the Badris would frequently visit my parents in Seremban. Those visits meant a lot to my parents, and Badri and Karen knew that, as they allowed my parents to enjoy their grandchildren (my children) Melindah and Zachary albeit vicariously through Sue and Adam.

Badri demonstrated best the halus (soft or subtle) ways of our people, and that being halus does not preclude one from being determined and tenacious. You have to have those qualities to be a good researcher. Badri published his first research paper while still an undergraduate, a rare accomplishment.

When Badri and Karen visited my wife and me in Canada on their way back to Malaysia after receiving his PhD from Dalhousie, I showed him a Malaysian article profiling a young student who had just been awarded a scholarship to Australia to pursue his doctorate in chemistry. The article touted him to be the “first Malay PhD in chemistry” when he would graduate. Badri simply smiled on seeing that piece!

Realizing that he was probably the first Malay PhD in Chemistry, I complimented him and told him that he had beaten the legendary star of Malay College only a few years our senior, the one dubbed “the sharpest mind ever to step foot at Malay College.” Badri was genuinely embarrassed by the comparison. “I didn’t do too well at Malay College,” he demurred.

“Not too well” in Badri-speak meant that he was not the top student. The class that Badri joined at Malay College was among the brightest; it was the first batch of the pure science stream. I remember supervising many of their evening “prep” hours. The class had a reputation for intimidating their supervising prefects; they in turn would groan when assigned. As I was the most junior and had the least clout with my fellow prefects, that chore fell on me disproportionately. It was fortuitous, for I thoroughly enjoyed being with those bright young students. Among his classmates was one Ariffin Aton who would later obtain his PhD in Chemical Engineering and would head SIRIM.

Obviously Badri was smart; he would not have been awarded a Colombo Plan scholarship otherwise or been recommended by his teachers.

Badri too was a man of many firsts, but as with his “first Malay PhD in chemistry” bit, they were all unheralded, and that suited him just fine. That was his style – unassuming. When appointed to senior administrative positions, for example being dean, to Badri that simply meant time away from his lab and students. He was one of the few academics who returned smoothly to his laboratory following a detour in administration.

He was the Foundation Fellow of both the Islamic as well as the Malaysian Academies of Science. Once he gave me a reprint of his latest paper. I had my undergraduate degree in chemistry so I was not lost with the content, but what impressed me was that the paper appeared in a leading international journal.

“You wouldn’t believe the hassles I got over that one,” he volunteered after I complimented him. It turned out that the university was none too pleased with his publishing the paper in English and in an international instead of a local journal!

I am always mindful whenever I write critical commentaries on our education system of individuals like Badri, educators and professionals who gave all they have to their institutions and students despite the huge obstacles and other “hassle factors” they faced daily in their work. The nation would be better off if only those in authority would relent just a wee bit and let individuals like Badri do what they do best.

The most revealing display of Badri’s halus ways and free-mindedness was his ability to sway his recalcitrant supervisors back home into letting him stay in Canada to pursue his PhD after getting his undergraduate degree. Then as now, the policy was that students had to return first and then wait their turn patiently before being sent abroad again.

Badri had other ideas; he was already offered a grant from the Canadians to pursue his doctoral work, all he had to do was get that special dispensation from home. I remember discussing at length with him on the best strategy to pursue in convincing the folks back home into letting him stay.

After much deliberation and with great anxiety, he decided to pursue a reverse psychology approach. It helped that the civil servants back in Malaysia who would be making the pivotal decision were just like Badri, so he could easily put himself in their shoes and understand their psychological vulnerabilities.

So in the most polite and deferential tone Badri wrote a long pleading letter in traditional Malay, together with the obligatory elaborate and profuse salutations expressing his heavy heart and sense of serba salah (dilemma) at having to write that letter, but had to do so merely as a favor requested by his professor. It was his professor’s wish that he (Badri) should continue with graduate work directly into the doctoral program. However, he (Badri) wished to return home as he was homesick and was missing his family and Malay food, especially his favorite budu (fish paste).

When as expected he did not receive a reply, he wrote back again, this time gently reminding his Malaysian supervisor that his professor wanted an answer from him (Badri) soon. This time Badri helpfully added that his professor had heard that Malaysia would soon be opening a second university and would need qualified candidates to staff it. And his professor wanted to contribute to this endeavor by training Badri.

The reply came finally, a few months later when already deeply engaged in his graduate work. “Tuan di arahkan melanjutkan … ” (“You are directed to pursue further studies…”) Badri was ecstatic. He had outwitted those civil service guys back home.

A few years later I met another Malaysian; he too was a scholarship student but was then residing abroad. I asked him how he did it, thinking it might be a variation of Badri’s move. He replied that he simply absconded; he did not bother to return or in any way communicate with the folks back home. What about his scholarship bond? It seemed that the authorities in Malaysia had lost his file!

I thought Badri was smart, but this character was shrewd. On second thought though, I think Badri would not contemplate simply skipping out. That would not be the Badri I knew.

When you have a free mind as Badri had, it would be easy for you to put yourself in your adversaries’ moccasins, as the natives here would put it, and thus figure out their thinking. Once you can do that, you are already one step ahead. That was my lesson from Badri.

My long story on him, apart from being my way of paying tribute to a long dear friend, is to demonstrate precisely this point about a free mind. The other is that when you have a free mind, you can easily focus on your objectives and not be distracted by the current fads. Badri was a scientist right from the very beginning; he had a passion for it, and he remained a true “bench scientist” right to the end. May Allah bless his soul!

Adapted from the author’s book. Liberating The Malay Mind, ZI Publications Sdn Bhd, Petaling Jaya, Malaysia, 2013.

Free Minds, Free Individuals

January 18th, 2016

Free Minds, Free Individuals
M. Bakri Musa
www.bakrimusa.com

The achievements of such individuals as Ungku Aziz and Raja Petra, as well as the giants in our history as Tun Razak, Datuk Onn and Munshi Abdullah, should inspire us to pursue liberating our minds.

However, should their fame and outstanding accomplishments have the opposite effect, as in making us feel small and thus dissuading us from emulating them, let me cite examples of seemingly ordinary individuals who may not have grabbed the headlines but nonetheless demonstrated free minds in solving their unique problems.

Because of their seemingly ordinary lives, we are more likely to identify with them. There is however, nothing ordinary about their accomplishments or their approaches to problem solving.

There was a student sent abroad to pursue his masters in engineering. Through smarts and diligence, he was soon admitted directly to the doctoral program. He did not bother to tell his supervisor back home for he anticipated a negative response.

His scholarship however, was only for two years, not enough time for a doctoral pursuit. That did not deter him. At the end of the second year he wrote his supervisor back home for an extension, citing a “slight snag” in his studies. He filled his pleading letter with sob stories of the challenges with English and mathematics.

His supervisor back home, familiar with such plights among Malay students, readily extended the scholarship for another year, together with a stern warning to “study harder.” At the end of the third year the student still needed a few more months. So he ignored the ensuing stream of warning letters and instead focused on his dissertation. He completed it just in time to receive that final letter from Malaysia suspending his scholarship.

When he returned with an impressive PhD instead of a mere Masters, far from congratulating him, his supervisor chastised him! “Pandai memandai!” Trying to be too smart! That supervisor complained about having to find another candidate to fill the lecturer post at the local polytechnic that was slated for this student. Meanwhile the newly minted PhD readily found a university position, and thus avoided defaulting on his scholarship bonds.

To make a long story even longer, he was invited to present his paper, based on his doctoral research, at a prestigious conference in America. True to form, his Vice-Chancellor refused to grant him leave, much less fund the trip. The reasoning was that he was far too fresh a recruit to be granted such a privilege. Resourceful as ever, he found a corporate sponsor and traveled on his vacation time.

That young academic is an example of a free mind that dared forge his own path.

Then there was the student who graduated from a top American university. He had of course no difficulty securing a job in America. However, there was the problem of his scholarship bonds.

So at the interview back home, he purposely bombed it. His interviewers were heard muttering how unimpressed they were with American universities and regretted not being able to offer the young man a position. Released of his obligation, the young man could hardly wait to fly back to America.

As the young man would later relate to me, he was not about to pin his future on a man who could not distinguish between Stamford College and Stanford University, regardless of how esteemed his local titles and reputation.

For contrast, consider our third student. He too graduated from an elite American university, with a PhD no less. I asked him what his plans were, and his answer surprised me. He was waiting for instructions from his Vice-Chancellor back home.

I suggested that he pursue post-doctoral work to broaden his research expertise, or work in America to get some valuable experience. Indeed he was offered a lucrative position, enough to pay off his scholarship bonds if need be. However, being an obedient student (Kami menurut arahan!), he patiently waited for instructions from home.

A few years later I visited him in Malaysia; he was unhappy with his lot. His Vice-Chancellor found him keras kepala (hardheaded). That is another of those dismissive terms for a free-minded individual. Too bad that he was not keras kepala when he was in America when he had the opportunity to carve his own future!

This fellow reminded me of another student, described by his teachers as “the sharpest mind ever to set foot at Malay College.” As expected, he excelled abroad and was offered the opportunity to pursue doctoral studies by his university. However, his supervisor back home convinced him of a better plan. So he returned.

To cut a short story shorter, his highest achievement was being director of a matriculation program at a local university. He never did get his doctorate; a bright promise unfulfilled. Alas, his was not an isolated case; I could fill a book with many such sad stories.

The first two students are examples of courageous individuals who dared think for themselves and ignored the commands of their superiors. They are worthy of our emulation. As for the last two, I hope we all avoid their fate not so much for our own selfish reasons but for the sake of our country.

Consider the legendary P. Ramlee. Every Malaysian can hum a few of his songs; his rich voice warms our hearts and his melodies dance in our memories.

He sought to impart his considerable skills and share his vast experience with the music students at MARA Institute of Technology. However, the dean of that institution would have none of it as Ramlee did not have any formal academic qualifications.

Imagine the loss to those young students and in turn our society, all because of the closed-mindedness of that dean. As can be seen, the curse of a trapped mind extends far beyond its bearer.

The worst part was that the dean did not feel at all embarrassed in relating this incident many years later in an article in the mainstream media on the anniversary of P. Ramlee’s death.

That is the tragedy of such a mind; it does not even realize that it is being imprisoned. This dean sports an impressive academic qualification (impressive at least to his administrators), but the “higher education” he acquired did not liberate his mind. It is still trapped, not by steel bars but by a few obscure lines in the university’s rule book.

Adapted from the author’s latest book, Liberating The Malay Mind, ZI Publications Sdn Bhd, Petaling Jaya, Malaysia, 2013.

Ungku Aziz and Raja Petra – Exemplars ofFfree Minds

January 14th, 2016

Ungku Aziz and Raja Petra, exemplars of free minds

M. Bakri Musa

Published: 12 January 2016 7:22 AM

Hang Jebat and Hang Nadim are but characters in our legends, but the chronicles of their exploits serve as eternal lessons of what a free-mind can achieve. Munshi Abdullah and Datuk Onn were giants in our history, but many especially the young may not have heard of or find them interesting. So I will cite a pair of contemporary figures as exemplars of a free mind.

Many know of Ungku Aziz, a man of many firsts. I will not enumerate them because they are not pertinent to my story. To me, he is a man whose insight on rural (and thus Malay) poverty is unmatched. Equally unmatched is our present leaders’ inability or unwillingness to tap his vast expertise.

I first heard of him as a secondary school student in the late 1950s while visiting the University of Malaya. There was a lull in our schedule and we were let loose in the library. Among the stacks of books there was one that attracted my attention, a thick volume, The Fragmentation of Estates. Below that was the author’s name, “Ungku A. Aziz.”

What drew my attention was of course the author’s name. In those days it was rare to see a Malay name attached to a book, except perhaps a trashy novel on jinns or hookers. (It still seems that way today!) Even though I did not understand a word in the book (it was a classic socio-economic study of the rubber industry in the early years of independence), it nonetheless made a huge impression on me.

Here I was a high school student; I had difficulty even completing reading my much thinner textbooks. Yet in front of me was this thick volume on a substantive topic written by a Malay. It inspired me! I wondered whether someday I too could have my name appended to a book of similar substance.

Unlike others who are content merely with cataloguing the ills of Malay society and then dredging up old ugly stereotypes to “explain” our socio-economic backwardness, Ungku Aziz approached the problem systematically. He studied poor rural Malay families, from measuring the heights and weights of their children (indicators of nutritional status and thus economic level) to recording the number of sarongs per household – his famous “sarong index” of rural poverty.

One of his many studies debunked the view widely held (then as well as now, and not just by non-Malays) that we Malays do not save or respond to modern economic incentives. Indeed a casual observer would conclude similarly, seeing the small number of accounts by Malays in financial institutions. And when the British tried to increase the interest rates of postal savings accounts to encourage Malays to save, we did not respond as the colonials had expected.

In his studies Ungku Aziz discovered that the reality was far different. Malays were indeed diligent savers as attested to the ubiquitous bamboo tabongs in Malay homes. We saved for weddings and of course for a trip to Mecca, the aspiration of all Muslims. However, we did not use conventional savings institutions like banks because of our religious prohibitions against ribaa (interest).

It is a tribute to the genius of Ungku Aziz that he not only identified the problem correctly (key towards solving it) but went on to create institutions that would cater to the specific economic needs of Malays. Thus was born Lembaga Tabung Haji, a mutual fund-like financial institution that takes in Malay savings, especially from rural areas, and invests them in halal enterprises (meaning, no casinos or breweries). The returns on such investments were rightly labelled as faedah (dividends) and not bunga (interest), thus satisfying Malay religious sensitivities.

Today Tabung Haji is one of the largest financial institutions in Southeast Asia, a tribute to the brilliance of one man, one whose mind is not trapped by the conventional wisdom and thinking.

There are today many more Malay economists, some sporting impressive doctorates from elite universities. Thus you would expect a quantum leap in the number of innovations like Tabung Haji to cater to the special and specific needs of Malays. Alas this is not the case. Instead what we have are a plethora of government-linked companies and similar entities more adept at sucking precious public funds out of Treasury and then squandering them.

Even Tabung Haji has not demonstrated any innovation since its inception. No one has carried the ball forward. I would have thought those eminently trained economists that Prime Minister Datuk Seri Najib Razak’s brags about being on his team would expand Tabung’s reach, like catering for Muslims in the region, or offering services beyond Hajj and umrah. I would have expected Tabung Haji to have its own fleet of aircrafts and branch offices in every village, not to mention expanding its lending activities beyond. Tabung Haji should have also long ago driven those usurious chettiars and ah longs out of business.

As is evident, impressive academic qualifications or holding an exalted position does not equal or signal a free and innovative mind. Often times the more impressive your title and position are, or the degrees you have accumulated, the more beholden you are to expectations. Your mind is trapped into thinking of only complex solutions while missing out on the simple, inexpensive and less sexy ones.

The reverse is probably even more true, that is, those without exalted titles or positions are freer and unafraid to express themselves. Raja Petra Kamarudin (RPK) best exemplifies this. Many do not know or care who the chief editor of the New Straits Times or any of the other mainstream media is, but almost all have heard of and more importantly pay attention to Raja Petra. A reflection of his fame or notoriety (from the government’s view) is that he is recognised simply by his initials. He is truly transformational, to use Najib’s favorite and over-used word, and a phenomenon.

A scion of the Selangor royal family, RPK could have easily followed in the footsteps of so many of his peers, living it up courtesy of the generous royal civil allowance. Instead he became a successful entrepreneur, a genuine one in contrast to hordes of the ersatz variety that plagues our community. Now retired from his business, he devotes himself to his wildly popular and highly influential website, Malaysia-Today.

His first presence in cyberspace was in 1995, the dawn of the digital age, with his rather unimaginative “Raja Petra’s Homepage.” At that time he was one of the few who dared write uncomplimentary articles on the government. He was also among the first to predict the impending split between the then prime minister Tun Dr Mahathir Mohamad and his then deputy, Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim, at a time when the former was “110%” behind the latter. RPK sensed the manoeuvring of Anwar’s underlings eager to replace Mahathir’s.

Then like so many Malaysians who were deeply offended by the government’s treatment of Anwar, RPK started his “Free Anwar” webpage. When Anwar was finally freed, far from losing a cause and withering away, Pete, as he is known by those who know him well, started Malaysia-Today with the avowed purpose “to teach Malaysians how to think, to dissent, to question, and much more,” as he once told a BBC interviewer. And with that, RPK blossomed and Malaysia is the beneficiary.

There are many other news portals and Internet sites including those of the established media, but none matches Raja Petra’s Malaysia-Today in terms of readership and influence. The government is only too aware of this, hence the frequent attempts at blocking the site. The authorities even resorted to arresting him under the ISA but the man was unfazed. The last time he was held, the government had to quickly release him unconditionally as he threatened a hunger strike. To this day, he remains the only ISA prisoner to be released unconditionally.

The Indonesian writer Pramoedya Ananta Toer’s free-mindedness while being imprisoned blossomed his mind to craft those wonderful Pulau Buru quartet novels; Raja Petra’s led to his unconditional release.

Pramoedya said it best. When asked how he could have managed to craft such wonderful works while being imprisoned under the most inhumane conditions, responded, “I create freedom for myself!” That is the awesome power of a free mind. – January 12, 2016.

* Adapted from M. Bakri Musa’s book, “Liberating The Malay Mind”, ZI Publications Sdn Bhd, Petaling Jaya (2013).
– See more at: http://www.themalaysianinsider.com/sideviews/article/ungku-aziz-and-raja-petra-exemplars-of-free-minds-m.-bakri-musa#sthash.yufiScS4.dpuf

Munshi Abdullah – Exemplar of a Free Mind

January 4th, 2016
Munshi Abdullah – Exemplar of a Free Mind
M. Bakri Musa
www.bakrimusa.com
Malay society has no shortage of formal leaders. First we have the hereditary leaders, from the sultan down to his various lowly chieftains including the local datuk lembaga (lord admiral). This pattern of leadership has a long history in our society.
     Then came the religious leaders, of more recent vantage, introduced in the 15th Century with the coming of Islam to the Malay world. More recently and fast gaining a pivotal role, are political leaders.
     With modern political institutions, especially democratic ones, we should expect a more frequent emergence of fresh leaders. This is not necessarily so. China is far from being a democratic society yet its People Congress gets more infusion of fresh talents with each party’s election. Compare that to the United States Congress, the self-declared exemplar of representative government. You are more likely to get a new member of the old Soviet Politburo than you are to get a new member of US Congress.
     UMNO, the premier Malay political organization, is on par with the old Soviet Politburo in nurturing new talent.
      Despite modernity, both hereditary and religious leaders still have a strong hold on Malays.
The problem with both types of leadership is that they are by nature conservative; each successor maintaining and replicating the pattern set by his predecessor. With hereditary rulers, this could be the matter of genetics or familial upbringing. With religious leaders, the pattern of training or learning. It is the rare student who would deviate from his teacher’s path to blaze a new trail. This is especially so with the Islamic tradition of learning where the emphasis is on taqlid (to follow or to imitate).
     Stated more succinctly, do not expect much innovation or expressions of free-mindedness from such leaders.
     Human society however, is complex. One does not need to have a formal role as leader, or be anointed as one, to have an impact on society. Often such de novo leaders, unburdened by tradition or expectations, exhibit remarkable free-mindedness and can be transformative.
One such leader in Malay society was Munshi Abdullah. Today he is held in low esteem and dismissed as a brown Mat Salleh (an epithet for Englishman) by our revisionist historians and self-proclaimed champions of Ketuanan Melayu. They even ridicule his “impure” Malay heritage.
      These present-day Malay nationalists, still trapped in the relics of their old anti-colonial mental prison, are perturbed that Abdullah’s free-mindedness let him collaborate with the colonialists. Abdullah even translated the bible! Today he would have been labeled a murtad (apostate) and sent to a re-education camp – Islamic style. Worse, he could be imprisoned without trial for an indeterminate period. Imagine the loss!
     Bless the old colonial English for letting Abdullah be who he was. Mushi Abdullah should also thank his lucky stars that he was born during colonial times and not in today’s Malaysia.
To the free-minded Abdullah, working with the colonialists of his time meant the opportunity to expand his intellectual horizon and learn of the advances of the West. Most of all he wanted to understand what made the British tick. He did not ignore but instead nurtured his innate human nature of being curious and inquisitive.
     When the British invited him to visit a colonial warship for example, he was not a mere casual visitor. He recorded his experiences, complete with drawings of the contraption, and then challenged his readers to wonder what was it about British minds that made them invent such awesome machines. If the miracle of steel did not astound the visitor, ponder the fact that the British could even make it float!
     Today, more than a century and a half after his death, we are still benefiting from Abdullah’s writings and wisdom. We do not remember who the sultan was at Abdullah’s time, but we remember Abdullah through his written words.
     Today we sent many of our leaders and also would-be leaders abroad, a few to the great universities of the world.  What do they bring back?
Abdullah’s free-mindedness enabled him to appreciate the advancements of the British, as with their warships and books. He was not at all embarrassed to acknowledge that his own people were far behind. To Abdullah, there was nothing to be ashamed about that; he looked upon it as an opportunity to learn from and catch up with them. Far from shunning the British he worked closely with them, leading many today to contemptuously dismiss him as a colonial hired hand.
     Yes, he was handsomely compensated for teaching our language to the English, but he was also providing a valuable service them. Now those colonials could better communicate with and understand our people.
     Abdullah learned much from the British. No, he did not learn how to forge steel or make it float, but he learned something much more profound. He saw how those colonials communicated with each other, their style of writing, and their penchant for documenting their experiences. Abdullah too began doing that, writing about his travels and experiences. And he did it in the style of the British – direct, factual, and with the minimal of formalities. With that, Abdullah transformed Malay literature.
Up until then Malay writings, as with our letters to the sultans and high officials, were heavy on formalities, with rigid highly stylized forms of salutations that would fill the entire page and often obscure the message. Abdullah initiated the direct and factual style of writing, emulating the British.
     As for Malay literature, up until his time it had been nothing more than the stylized repeating of phrases and proverbs, facts liberally mixed with imagination and conjecture, and written in the indirect third person as in the various Hikayats. Abdullah was the first to write directly and with a personal (first person) perspective, as with his Hikayat Abdullah.
Such are the powers of those with a free mind; they brazenly pave new paths so others may follow. What our Malay community needs now is not a new culture, another “mental revolution,” or even greater mindless assertions of Ketuanan Melayu but more of those individuals with free minds as exemplified by Munshi Abdullah, especially among our leaders.
Adapted from the author’s latest book, Liberating The Malay Mind, ZI Publications Sdn Bhd, Petaling Jaya, Malaysia, 2013.

December 20th, 2015

Understanding Leaders Through Their Followers
M. Bakri Musa
www.bakrimusa.com

There are as many successful leadership styles as there are organizational entities. More important than the leadership style or type of leaders is the dynamics of the interactions between leaders and their followers.

We can intuitively appreciate that the talent required to be a platoon commander is very different from that of a head of an academic department. Even for the same organization, you can have many successful personality types and leadership styles.

Likewise, a leader who is excellent during a certain period of time would be downright dangerous in another. Winston Churchill was a great leader of wartime Britain. He inspired his people when they were being bombarded daily by the Germans. Come peacetime however, the British rejected him. Their rejection of him did not mean that they were not grateful for his brilliant and inspiring leadership during the war. The British felt that they needed a new kind of leader now that the country was at peace.

Had Churchill continued to lead Britain after World War II, the ensuing Cold War would not have remained cold for long. His uncompromising stand against communism, reflected in his haughty Iron Curtain speech, would have plunged the world into another great war very quickly.

Leaders must have a free mind to adapt, grow and learn with the inevitable changes in their followers and society. This is particularly true in a plural society, or one rapidly changing as a consequence of urbanization and globalization. Malaysian society is all those.

In my book Towards A Competitive Malaysia, I likened leaders to wings of a plane. Wings define the limits of performance of the plane, so too does a leader to her people. The earliest plane had double wings – the biplanes – to give the greatest lift at the low speed that their small engine could deliver. Later with powerful engines and consequent greater speed, that design exerted too much drag and soon yielded to single wings fitted with slats, slots and ailerons to adjust the shape of the wing to be more curved for maximal lift at low speed, and then retracted for less drag at cruising speed. With even more powerful jet engines and faster speed, this design again proved inadequate and gave way to backswept wings. Supersonic rockets need only winglets.

Likewise with society, it requires different leaders depending on its stage of development and circumstance. It is the rare individual who could successfully transit from one pattern of leadership to another. The wisdom of the British during the immediate postwar period was their recognition of this insight. As for most leaders, even brilliant ones, they stay long after their leadership style has proven ineffective with the changed circumstances.

Stated differently, really wise leaders know when their time is up.

Tunku Abdul Rahman was the perfect leader immediately before and following independence. At that time what Malaysians needed most was stability and reassurance. Tunku’s personality and leadership style amply provided both. Malaysians had good reasons for being wary of ambitious and charismatic leaders; neighboring Indonesia’s Sukarno was a constant ugly and painful reminder.

I discern at least three patterns of leadership. One is the pyramidal or military style, with one commanding general at the top, followed by a few subordinate generals, then many colonels followed by many more majors and lieutenants all the way down to the enlisted soldiers. This is strictly top-down, command-and-control organization.

This leadership is best suited for an emerging society where its members are not sophisticated or well educated, or one long oppressed through colonialism. This was MacArthur’s leadership of Japan right after the humiliation of World War II; it was remarkably effective and efficient. This was also the leadership of Tun Razak following the May 1969 riots; it was also highly effective.

In a developed society such leadership is needed during times of crisis, as in America in the aftermath of 9-11 terrorists’ attack. This should have been the leadership during the Katrina devastations of 2005. That it was not, contributed to the unnecessarily widespread and prolonged anarchy following that tragedy.

The second style is the coaching model where the coach has absolute power over his players. He is not answerable to them rather to elements outside the team: the owners and fans. However, if the team does not perform, it is the coach who will get fired first.

While the coach is the most powerful person in the team, he is not the most well known or even the highest paid. The players often get star billing and are paid many times more. The skill of a coach leader lies in his ability to merge the various talents in his team towards a common goal: beating the opposing team.

Whereas the military model of leadership is pyramidal, the coaching style is more like a schoolhouse block, with a long block on either side of a central and only slightly higher administrative tower. It is remarkably flat and can be very efficient under the right circumstances.

The third model is that of a symphony conductor. Like the sports team, here too we are dealing with a group of accomplished individuals. In such circumstances, a leader does not need to shout in order to be heard; the followers will respond more to her actions than words.

While an orchestra can perform without a conductor, it needs a skillful one in order to shine. The leadership pattern is akin to a bicycle wheel, with the conductor in the center connected by spokes to the musicians in the periphery. They in turn are connected to each other via the rim. Those musicians have to communicate not only with the conductor in the center but also with each other peripherally.

When the load on the rim is not balanced, the spin will not be smooth and the consequent vibrations could break the machine. In an orchestra, too loud a bass would drown out the string section. A creative conductor would carefully choose his repertoire so as to highlight his orchestra’s strength.

This orchestra-style leadership is seen in think tanks, academic departments, and research laboratories. All the participants (followers) are like the musicians – talented and skillful in their own right. They could perform on their own without a leader. In the orchestra model, the total is more than just the sum of the individual parts.

There is something else remarkable about the orchestra model. That is the lack of leadership struggle among the followers. The first violinist does not conspire to take over the podium; she is satisfied with being the best violinist.

Malays have long emerged from our feudal ways although we are still trapped by their many elements, such as our excessive deference to authority figures. We are also now far better educated and well informed. We are definitely more open to the world and actively engaged in foreign trade and travels. The authoritarian military style of leadership would certainly push us back.

It is questionable whether we are ready for the symphony or coaching model. We are in a transition mode; we need to be pushed away from the top-down command-and-control military leadership towards a flatter coaching or symphony model. My preference is for the orchestra model. For that we have to ensure that our citizens are more critical and fully informed.

I would accept an authoritarian coach model provided the leader acknowledges and respects our individuality and utilizes as well as channels our talents towards an agreed-upon goal. My acceptance of an authoritarian streak in a leader carries a major – a very major – caveat. That is, if she fails us in our common mission, then she ought to be fired right away, as with the coach. Therein lies the difficulty.

A leader is not a zookeeper, content with keeping his animals healthy, well fed and able to procreate. That was Singapore’s Lee Kuan Yew brand of leadership; he was an excellent zookeeper. This style however, is appealing only when you are hungry and desperate. Once you pass that stage (an achievement not to be belittled) you yearn for something more enlightened. After all, a lion penned and has to be fed is no lion no matter how loud its roar is; a pampered overgrown cat, maybe.

Each of us is a leader and follower at the same time. I am the leader of my family and of my surgical team, while at the same time I am a follower in my mosque and in the greater scheme of things. Today’s students are mostly followers except for the few who are already leaders of their students’ organizations. Even the others who are not, they are still leaders in some capacity, to their younger siblings, cousins and nephews, for example. With Allah’s blessings, some will be parents and thus leaders of their respective families. A few might go beyond and even lead their enterprises or even society.

Leaders should encourage their followers to be critical and unafraid to challenge their leaders’ views. They should go beyond merely tolerating to actively encouraging and embracing criticisms. Leaders should never equate questioning and criticism with impudence and disloyalty. Likewise, followers should never hesitate to question their leaders and not seek refuge behind some misguided notion of loyalty, politeness, or patriotism.

A large segment of the Malaysian community is sufficiently advanced and sophisticated to resent the authoritarian model of leadership as represented by UMNO’s Najib. Another segment, almost exclusively Malay, is still stuck in its feudal ways and for whom Najib represents its ideal leader.

Malaysian society being such, until that second segment becomes a minority, or with more Malays being represented in the first segment, the nation is stuck with a feudal authoritarian leadership of Najib where blind loyalty trumps everything and excuses a whole lot of sins. That UMNO’s leadership is far from being the orchestral model is demonstrated by the fact that it is continuously plagued by leadership struggles among the next echelon of leaders.

Adapted from the author’s latest book, Liberating The Malay Mind, ZI Publications Sdn Bhd, Petaling Jaya, Malaysia , 2013.