Merdeka Post

This is the full version of an article that was censored painfully in my blog. It's originally posted on the Merdeka day of 2007.

My country is having its fiftieth birthday today.

Many people are putting up patriotic posts written with utmost fervor and embellished with fanciful wavy flags. People say we should feel proud, because the national day signifies that we have been liberated from the grip of Britain for fifty years. As a citizen of the country, our leaders say, I have an inborn obligation to take pride in the independence and celebrate the country's achievement on the big day. I ought to wave the flag too, apparently. Packed with the flurry of fireworks and ceremonies, my country looks primed for an extravagant party never before seen.

But my heart feels heavy.

Much is wrong with my country. In fact, wrong is so much that I got the jitters by just typing the last sentence - I am made to be afraid of thinking aloud. And the people we elect to represent ourselves are more keen than anything else to ensure that such jittery is imbibed in everyone, that all dissonance is muzzled. That by imposing fear of losing scholarship or being sued with any of the abundant draconian laws, people like me would be tamed and learn to shut up.

My blood will bath a dagger, potential future prime ministers told me, if I question the special right of the princes of the land. But the same threat is levelled time after time even when people only questioned the blatant abuse and extension of the rights. The birth rights are becoming infinitely extensible, the benign-turned-malignant economics policy is never ending. Some discriminatory policies that were not enshrined in the constitution are now part of the incontestable modus operandi in my country.

Some people said it's the social contract (which is undocumented and nebulous anyway) that I need to respect, that our forebears' solemn swears are to be upheld to the end of time - but by the same vein, should African-Americans be eternally subservient to the white Americans, because their great-great-grandfathers agreed to be enslaved for generations to come? Time has changed, and when a correctional medicine turned into a addictive poison in our body, harping on the archaic birth-right is like craving for morphine when there is no longer any pain. Yes there are still symptoms of economic disparity in this country, but when a solution has become a violent addiction rather than a medication, shouldn't we slowly change the prescription?

A controversial song was sung by a frustrated Chinese, and overnight he became both a national hero and a public enemy. Admittedly there are some disagreeable racial stereotypes and crude mocking in the song, but it was the ensuing pandemonium that reflected perfectly just how precarious our racial tension is. Some people blame the rapper for instigating the commotion, but forgotten amongst the arduous ardent finger-pointing is the fact that the song is just a snapshot of the gaping chasm between races in my country. The song is not the disease itself, it's just a symptom of the underlying chronic disease. While I have some qualms about some of the lyrics of his song, what appalled me more was the hateful comments in response to the song, coming from both sides of the argument. That, I think, is the actual problem - we, the people, and the ever narrowing racial lenses that shackles our very thoughts.

People say give the country a chance, as we are still a growing country. But the problem is, our growth has gone quite awry. It bemuses me that all we debate about during an election are whether someone is corrupted, whether we are getting more Chinese primary schools, how many people with a certain skin colour get into the university every year, and how many more mega palaces we are building for our dignitaries. In other countries, the politic manifestos are about how they could improve the well-being of its people, how international trades could be improved, and how pollutions could be reduced. Yes, scandals and jokes are found everywhere in the world; yet most countries do not have scandals every other month and a parliament which meet questions with deafening table-thumping. And most countries do not consign a group of people to the status of second-class citizens who should leave for another country if they have any dissatisfaction. And that other country isn't even their own.

I love my country, because I still care. I still lament over its comedies; I still feel proud when it shines. I am full of criticism because as the chinese saying goes, "criticisms are all but earnest when you love something deeply". I want it to be better, although I am an adopted child by birth here. We could always be complacent enough to say that everything is good enough as long as we still live in peace and enjoy a little success; but really, let's not be a frog in the slowly boiling water. Just because we are better than a failing country like Uganda, doesn't mean that we should open the champagne and forget the fact that we used to be the second biggest economic power in Asia. Just because we could still have an outwardly harmonious kenduri together, doesn't mean that it will stay that way forever. And yes, the water is going to boil one day.

There are so much more I wish to write on this special day, but I know all that would be cliche we are so tired of hearing. As we celebrate yet another Merdeka, I urge you to think what the day really means to you, why are you celebrating it; and instead of paying lip service, what a real patriot could, and should do. As John puts it:

Our country does not need more people mindlessly wishing each other a happy national day. Our country does not need more people chanting "Merdeka!" Our country needs people willing to rise to the challenge of building an independent nation, with an independent people. Let us celebrate our 50th national day by committing ourselves, wherever we may be and whoever we are, to rising to this challenge and to birthing a nation that the next generation of Malaysians can be truly proud of.

Happy birthday, my country. Standing on this watershed of your history, I wish you many, truly happy returns. And I will always try my best to help you achieve your dreams.