A final say...

This writer hopes to pass the baton to younger thinkers and writers on the Malay psyche, which she says will remain an issue of interest as long as identity politics remain the mainstay of Malaysia’s government.

THIS will be my last essay on Malay-muslims and Islam in public life.

One reason being I have smoke signals coming out of my ears, eyeballs, nostrils and head, for I have been writing about this topic since 2005.

Nineteen years of covering us Malays of all stripes which culminated in my first book, IAM Muslim, the second, Holy Men, Holy Women ,andnowmynew book, Malayland, which will be published by Ethos Books and Faction Press of Singapore in November 2024.

The main reason, though, is that I strongly feel that it is time to pass the baton to younger thinkers and writers, who better have the spirit of adventure in them. (But I am, of course, funnier and cuter.)

It’s been a great ride, and many I met and interviewed have become good friends. Like Encik Arof, who decided to take me to task on my New Economic Policy article with Dr Christopher Choong, and now, we are friends. Turns out he used to be on my father’s staff in the civil service, and say what you may that he is a nationalist; if only you know what Encik Arof did for our country. What have you done?

For as long as identity politics remain the mainstay of Malaysia’s government, there will be no end to discussions about Malaysian identity. In fact, what we will be witnessing in the next few years is how the new government will handle the tussle among Islamists, nationalists, and right-wingers, as it tries to hold on to a very shaky Malaysia.

The income gap is widening among all Malaysians, and it won’t be about the split among the Malays only. Young Indian Malaysians are feeling even more disheartened by the lack of space and work for them. Sidelined by wealthier and more educated Indian Malaysians, some fall prey to toxic nationalism that they see in “the Motherland”, and this is also something that is being experienced by young working class Chinese youth. When people feel they are under siege in the country they are born in, we have to realise the cracks go deeper than we think.

It is worse for working class Malaysian youths, who share similar sentiments to the Malay youths we interviewed over the years: they lack and want agency, but are hapless in a country that views youths just as vote banks and political volunteers.

But oh, how Malay Malaysia kept me in business for almost 20 years. Being chased off by a certain group of silat practitioners. Finding a story right in front of me, when I was in Baling, Kedah, seeking syncretic healers – I discovered Memali and its truth. Waking up in the middle of the night to see a cobra looking at me curiously before it slithered away – while my friends and peers were in Kuala Lumpur, I was running around Malaysia. In many cases, headless, as I just basically got off buses and stayed in the homes of relatives of friends.

The only way to discover Malaysia is really to immerse yourself in its people and their lives. Whenever I am asked what the Malays/chinese/indians/ Orang Asal are really like, all I can reply is whether they had friends from these ethnic groups. And what kind of friendships did they have – cursory ones? Deep and meaningful ones, akin to what a friend described as “paining paining die die friend one” or perfunctory relationships that are created at work?

I plan to research and write about personal projects, and if there is an opportunity, write very occasional special reports on the Malay identity. Amidst all that, my colleagues, Aziff Azuddin and Shafizan Johari, and I would like to warn you that

nd we are entering a global conflict, and what is happening in Gaza, Iran, Congo, the Deep South of Thailand, has implications in the region. Both these gentlemen observed that the Gaza conflict has raised temperatures among Malay-muslims, and that with the assertion of the Malay identity in Thailand, expect more populist actions to take place. People feel Islam and Malayness are under threat, and this may spill over to Indonesia, Brunei and Singapore.

Before I say goodbye, I thought I’d tell you a story.

An excerpt from Malayland: Once, I was invited to observe a little village, a most picturesque one, somewhere in Malaysia, and its people. The person who invited me was a friend and Islamic healer. There had been supernatural incidents that worried all of them, and they wanted to learn Ruqya, Islamic healing.

The usrah (religious discussion) was not unlike usrah held in urban areas; everyone clamoured to the front to speak to the healer (my friend) and learn how to heal and dispel jinns from their souls and bodies. This was very similar to the classes taught in tony estates in Kuala Lumpur, and the only thing that made these people I observed different from others were that they were all aligned with a radical, militant group. They were the OGS of militancy (for those who don’t know: original gangstas, slang for experts) in Malaysia, and they were spooked by poltergeist activity in the village. Listening to the cerita hantu experiences, I too was scared, and my fear of ghosts was bigger than the fact that I was in a sea of militants.

I was back in the city the next day, and coincidentally, a friend invited me to an usrah held in a upmarket neighbourhood. The ustazah didn’t like me as she suspected I was a Sufi (because I questioned her about why Selawat Tafrijiyyah was illegal) while I made a passing remark about how Wahabbis were ruining the social fabric of Malayislam. The usrah ended with a short lecture on Islamic protection, and how we must protect ourselves from ain, evil eye (she also gave me a side eye). I went home after a diabetic-inducing tea, and said to myself if I had to choose which group to hang out with, I knew which one. These are our Malays.

One thing I won’t miss is how some of our male respondents become my admirers. You need to ask Aziff and Dr Al Adib Samuri of Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia this, they witnessed all of this craziness. I had a gangster who was an Abang Long Kawasan who wanted me to be his second wife, and I’d have nothing to worry about financially, as he supplied syabu to wherever he supplied to.

Then there’s this fella who tried to impress me with his pedang prowess, and I mean swords, though I do think it’s a subliminal suggestion about that department. As my friend Farah said, ini hint dia bagus dalam ranjang kot ni (he’s maybe hinting that he is good in bed). He just sent me a Raya greeting with another pedang. I have also yet to recover from a photo of a gentleman in his yellow boxer shorts and his cat. I don’t know if the shock is from that or the fact his boxers weren’t Vetements (I’m all about the brand, darling).

See you later, kids.