Salleh Ben Joned and Nation Building (by Alima Joned)

Unity in Diversity (photo courtesy of the New Straits Times)

By Alima Joned

Salleh Ben Joned is a philosophic pragmatist who believes multiculturalism, colloquially known as ‘kebudayaan rojak’, is good for nation building. His sister Alima Joned reviews four of her brother’s essays on this theme, written nearly 20 years ago, after the unveiling of Malaysia’s Vision 2020 in 1991. She muses about her brother’s visions in the context of Malaysia today. 

After the publication of my blog piece titled "Salleh Ben Joned and the Art of the Pantun," I received a message that reads in part:

I enjoyed reading your post on LinkedIn about your brother’s poetry …. Wonderful demonstration of your love and admiration for your brother, and for your country of origin and culture. I particularly like this quote from his writing, “That’s why I like Lin Yutang’s unusual definition of patriotism (or eating, it doesn’t really matter which) as love for the good things one ate in one’s childhood.” We would be so much better a person if we all thought of “patriotism” in those terms. Beautiful piece.

I, of course, was thrilled that this high-priced lawyer (based in the United States, no less, and totally lacking knowledge of the cultural references made in my article) took a few minutes from his billable hours not only to read, but to make comments. Beyond giving me this (cheap) thrill, the comments affirm the universal appeal of the poetic language; it enables us to best make sense of our deep emotions, such as love for our country

Patriotism vs. Nationalism

I also like Lin Yutang’s food-based definition of patriotism. In this moment of the world we live in, this definition of patriotism is all the more important as the term is often confused with nationalism.

Consider, for example, how these terms are defined by The Oxford Advanced Learner’s Dictionary Online. “Patriotism,” in this dictionary, is a “love of your country and willingness to defend it.” The term “nationalism” is defined as a “feeling of love for and pride in your country; a feeling that your country is better than any other.’’ Not everyone can see the distinction between the two.  Many do. 

Unlike patriotism, nationalism has political dimensions and implies superiority, often racial superiority. In today’s politically-charged climate in the United States for example, nationalism is associated with white nationalism, an ideology that entails a sentiment of superiority of the white race, and a belief that politics should advance the interests of white people at the expense of non-whites. This ideology runs counter to democratic ideals. Nationalism may be useful to unite a country when faced with external enemies, perhaps. Domestically, however, it can be divisive.

For Malaysians, the appeal of Lin Yutang’s idea of patriotism as love for the good things one ate in one’s childhood is unmistakable. What’s not to like about it? The love for Malaysia is the love for nasi lemak (coconut rice), roti canai (flat and flaky pan-fried bread) and char kueh teow (wok-fried flat noodles) – the foods we grew up with, and we feel this love no matter where in the world we end up.

Vision 2020 and the Challenge of Nation Building

In 1991, Prime Minister Tun Dr. Mahathir articulated the vision that by 2020 Malaysia would be a fully developed nation “economically, politically, socially, spiritually, psychologically and culturally.” By 2020, the Prime Minister added: “[W]e must be fully developed in terms of national unity and social-cohesion, in terms of our economy, in terms of social justice, political stability, system of government, quality of life, social and spiritual values, national pride and confidence.” (Malaysia: The Way Forward - Vision 2020)

Having articulated this vision, the Prime Minister identified nine challenges that had to be overcome in order to realize this vision. The first of these was the challenge of establishing a united Malaysian nation with a sense of shared destiny. This had to be a nation at peace with itself, territorially, and ethnically integrated, living in harmony and full and fair partnership, made up of one 'Bangsa Malaysia' with political loyalty and dedication to the nation.

In response to a call by the Prime Minister for critical discussion of his Vision 2020, the Department of Anthropology and Sociology of Universiti Kebangsaan published a booklet called Wawasan 2020 dan Pembinaan Bangsa Malaysia (Vision 2020 and the Creation of the Malaysian Race).

This booklet, the outcome of a dialogue by a group of UKM academics in 1991, was the focus of Salleh’s column with the curious (but delicious) title, Rojak is Good for Nation Building (1st July 1992).

Rojak is a spicy fruit or vegetable salad and also a term meaning ‘mixture’ or ‘eclectic mix’ in Malay; kebudayaan rojak is a colloquial expression for multiculturalism or cultural pluralism.

Rojak is Good for Nation Building

According to Salleh, the UKM academics argued two reasons why a true Malaysian nation had failed to emerge. He took issue with both arguments.

The first argument was that a united nation had been hampered by the unwillingness of the majority of non-Malays and a section of the Malay elite to show a genuine and full commitment to the National Language. These recalcitrant Malaysians generally favoured the English language, allowing the language of our former colonial masters to dominate our public life. It really saddened these academics that a sizeable section of the Malay elite, especially businessmen, preferred to speak in English, not only to non-Malays, but also amongst themselves. Worst still, so the complaint went, “they even think in English!”

Salleh was also amused with the concern expressed by one of these academics that the widespread use of English, left unchecked, would have a fearful outcome: Bangsa Malaysia in the year 2020 may even be fluent in English. “I didn’t know that to be fluent in the lingua franca of the world is a bad thing,” Salleh wittily retorted.

Salleh’s position on the use of English is well-known. For him, English has an important role within our multi-ethnic society, not just as a tool to communicate with the outside world. In a column titled Once Again, English, Our English (5th January 1994), he argues in speaking English, Malaysians will not lose their Malaysian identity or their Malaysian soul. He says the English we speak belongs, not to the Mat Salleh (colloquially, ‘white men’), but to Malaysians themselves. He writes:

A language belongs to those who speak it. It’s as simple as that. Given this fact, and that language communicates experience and is capable of transcending the boundaries of the culture of its origin – given all this, then the English we speak in Malaysia today belongs to us. It’s our English; along with BM it expresses our ‘soul’, with all its contradictions and confusions, as much as our social and material needs.

In another column titled Be Sophisticated and Silly All the Way (12th January 1994) Salleh discusses the then controversial policy shift to place emphasis on English while maintaining the National Language policy and the problem of translating English text books into Malay. There Salleh considers it a privilege, not an ideological shortcoming, for Malaysia to be bilingual.

The second argument made by the UKM academics was that a united Malaysian nation had failed because of the persistence of kebudayaan rojak - despite the demands by the Malay literati for a full implementation of the National Cultural Policy.**

The concern regarding the persistence of kebudayaan rojak is of special interest to me. As I live abroad, and live as a minority, I have become convinced more than ever of the value of multiculturalism - for both my country of residence and my native country.

Malaysian rojak (from lifestylefood.com.au)

It is obvious from my visits to Malaysia that the society is more divided then ever and the truly united Malaysia in Vision 2020 remains elusive. The reasons are many and complicated but the persistence of kebudayaan rojak is certainly not to be blamed for the failure of Malaysian nationhood. Still, back in 1991 the UKM academics argued just this.

As Salleh explains, the UKM academics at that time were troubled that the Government allowed English to be visible in many areas of public life and failed to apply the National Language law forcefully. So troubled they were that they proposed legislation, a National Culture Act to “ensure the end of kebudayaan rojak.”

Salleh makes the point that a law to end kebudayaan rojak was futile. Instead, he suggests, we should embrace cultural pluralism fully so that the vision of Malaysia developed in every aspect could be realized. In Salleh’s words:

As realists have often pointed out, kebudayaan rojak is inevitable given the multi-ethnic nature of our society in which no one race truly dominates in terms of numbers. Anyway, what’s wrong with kebudayaan rojak? Malaysians like rojak. It’s good for them, and it helps nation-building. Unity in diversity is certainly better for the vitality of our cultural life than the imposition of an artificially conceived national culture through legislation. A living culture, as everyone knows, grows naturally; it cannot be programmed or legislated according to an abstract recipe.

Indeed, unity in diversity, oneness notwithstanding different races, ethnics, faiths, languages will only make Malaysia all the richer in every sense.

Writers and Nation Building

2020 is now just around the corner. Yet we are no closer to meeting the challenge of building a united country, as envisioned by the Prime Minister back in 1991. Writers, like everyone in the nation, have a responsibility to help here.  In fact, as many of Salleh’s essays suggest, they have an awesome responsibility.

For example, in Different Lamps but the Same Light (9th September 1992), he calls on his fellow writers (the sasterawans) to use their art to promote racial and religious harmony. The essay was inspired by the dance performance of Mavin Khoo (along with Ramli Ibrahim and Guna) of Varnam, said to be the most challenging dance in the Bharata Natyam repertoire. Salleh found the dance dazzlingly beautiful and spiritual as it captured the intercourse between the “heavenly body and celestial earth,” enacting and celebrating the “concord between man and man, tribe and tribe, us and them, god earthy and God transcendent.” Writers, Salleh suggests, should meditate on the ultimate Truth, the One, and invoke the One - the Word- because they (the writers) can unite “words that divide.”

He writes:

Sasterawans of Malaysia, consider truly the unity of Truth, of Tawhid, and let your God-given imagination truly live in the many-in-the-one, and ultimately in the One-in-the-many; in the very breadth of God-the-Creator-God-the-Destroyer-God-the-Regenerator. Indeed, there is no god but God. Think of Mavin, Guna, and, of course Ramli behind them. Oneness of Being manifests itself through the vessel of their bodies. Why can’t the reality they affirm in the sacred dance of the body be similarly affirmed in the sacred dance of speech? The Word that unites words that divide – my fellow sasterawans, we must together meditate on it. 

So, he asks writers to use their imagination and their art for the unity of Malaysians, creating Bangsa Malaysia. He pleads with them not to use hurtful words in their writings. His exact words:

And [writers] please try to think twice, thrice, a hundred, even a thousand times, before you throw around words like murtad (apostate), kafir (infidel), syirik (polytheism), munafik (hypocrite) so indiscriminately, so self-righteously, sanctimoniously - and, may Allah be my witness, so un-Islamically.

(As a lawyer and a Malay who cherishes the best in my traditional and uncorrupted Malay upbringing, I, too, urge writers and all, especially those in the position of power, to be mindful of their language.) 

Malaysian literature, Salleh adds, needs poets and writers who are truly liberated from the constrictions of rigid doctrines and laws and who open their hearts and minds to the vision of the great Sufi poet, Jalaluddin Rumi in his poem The Song of the Reed. If we can hear the Reed, he says, we will appreciate the truth affirmed by Rumi in another poem, the Masnawi:

The lamps are different, but the Light is the same: 

It comes from the Beyond…

This is one Truth that is true.

***

Deeply rooted in his Malay heritage, my brother has no fear about losing his Malay identity or his Malay soul simply because he also writes in English or promotes bilingualism. He also believes a writer must take the long view all the time and be alert to temptations that can compromise his art and the independence of his mind. He is a cultural pluralist, pure and simple. He is a Lin Yutang patriot, one who cares deeply for his country - for a united Malaysia that is at peace with itself and ethnically integrated, living in harmony and in full and fair partnership, made up of one Bangsa Malaysia. That is the vision the Prime Minister had back in 1991. That is the vision most of us share.

December 2019

-------------------------
Alima Joned is a lawyer in private practice in Washington, DC. 

** The National Culture Policy was put in place in the aftermath of the 1969 political crisis and was originally intended to encourage national unity, but subsequently emerged as an initiative to encourage national identity through the arts. 

Rojak is Good for Nation-Building (1992)

Rojak buah - a popular Malaysian salad

The first of the nine challenges posed by Vision 2020 is that of creating by the second decade of the next century a united Malaysian nation which is ethnically integrated and harmonious. This amounts to an admission by the Government that, more than three decades after independence, we are still not a nation in the full sense of the word. Those of us who would agree with this belong to two main categories. There are non-Bumiputeras who believe that the officially sanctioned “Bumi/non-Bumi” dichotomy is the root of most of the obstacles to the emergence of a true nation. And there are the Bumiputeras who claim that we are not a true nation because we don’t have linguistic and cultural unity. It is not my intention here to discuss all the reasons that have been offered to the absence of true nationhood. I only want to look at the linguistic reason advanced by the Bumiputeras, and to discuss it in relation to literature. Since literature is part of culture, what I have to say may have some bearing on the thorny issue of “national culture.”

One of the many responses to our Prime Minister’s call for a critical discussion of his Vision 2020 is a booklet I’ve just read called Wawasan 2020 dan Pembinaan Bangsa Malaysia (Vision 2020 and the Building of a Malaysian Nation). Published by the Department of Anthropology and Sociology, Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia (National University of Malaysia), the booklet is the result of a dialogue held last year by a group of UKM academics. The views expressed in it can be considered representative of the dominant thinking among the Malay intellectual elite.

All the academics in the dialogue more or less agree that the two main reasons for the failure of a true Malaysian nation to emerge are (1) the unwillingness of the majority of non-Bumis and a section of the Bumi elite to show a genuine and full commitment to the national language; (2) the persistence of cultural pluralism despite demands by the Bumi literati for a full implementation of the National Cultural Policy. The academics are particularly concerned about the continuing presence of the language of our former colonial masters. They lament the fact that English is still very visible everywhere in this country; on TV, in the print media, in all forms of advertising, on shop signs, at the cinemas, in bookshops and other places. In the private sector, English is the dominant language of communication. Private colleges with English as the medium of instruction are allowed to function freely.  These academics further complain that even the younger generation of non-Bumis who were educated in the National Language prefer to speak English or their own language when there is no official compulsion or expectation for them to speak in the National language. With TV-watching  constituting a large portion of their leisure time and English newspapers, magazines and books their preferred reading material, it is not surprising that English is their usual medium of communication.  But what the UKM academics are really sad about is the fact that a sizable section of the Malay elite, especially the businessmen, prefer to speak in English not only to non-Bumis but among themselves too. What’s worse, they even think in English!

The Government is taken to task for compromising on the issue of national language; for allowing English to be so visible in many areas of public life. The Government, it is repeatedly stressed in the dialogue, must apply the law rigorously to ensure that only the National Language is used in situations where such use is legally enforceable. It is even implied that the Government should extend its legal powers, presumably through new acts of Parliament or amendments to the present National Language Act, to ensure that the status of Malay as the sole official language is respected. The implication is strengthened by the proposal that there should be a National Culture Act to correspond with the National Language Act. Such an act, it is argued, would ensure the end of kebudayaan rojak (Salad culture) – a colloquial expression for “cultural pluralism” or “multiculturalism.”

One of the academics is sceptical about the fifth challenge posed by Vision 2020, that of creating a liberal and tolerant society in which Malaysians respect each other’s creeds and customs. He wonders if this is not an approval of kebudayaan rojak.  Another even more uncompromising academic actually accuses the Prime Minister of inserting the dangerous idea of “democratization of culture” in his Vision 2020. This same academic categorically asserts that “nasionalisme Malaysia bererti … nasionalisme bumiputera, dan Wawasan 2020 perlu dikudung oleh nasionalisme bumiputera ini.” (“Malaysian nationalism means … Bumiputera nationalism, and Vision 2020 must be buttressed by this Bumiputera nationalism”) He also prophesies that if the present widespread use of English is not checked, “bangsa Malaysia pada tahun 2020 ialah bangsa yang fasih dalam Bahasa Inggeris.” (“the Malaysian nation in the year 2020 will be a nation fluent in the English language”) (I didn’t know that to be fluent in the lingua franca of the world is a bad thing.)

The booklet as a whole strikes me as a rather regressive document which shows that ethnocentric thinking is still very strong among the Bumi intellectual elite. They are not yet psychologically liberated to use a phrase from Vision 2020. The document weakens even more the little faith that sceptics like me have in our ability to meet the challenges of creating a united nation which is ethnically integrated, and a mature democratic society which is psychologically liberated, liberal and tolerant. The suggestion in the booklet that non-Bumis who don’t speak the National Language all or most of the time are ipso facto not Malaysian in spirit, and those Bumis who are bilingual are renegades, is nonsense. And the allegation that the non-Bumis are more conscious of their ethnic identities than their identity as Malaysians is only worth entertaining if the UKM academics are prepared to be honest about the Bumis’ own sense of identity. Aren’t they also like the non-Bumis in this respect? One of the academics actually admits it, and I commend him for his honesty.

On the question of cultural pluralism, we must be realistic. As realists have often pointed out, kebudayaan rojak is inevitable given the multi-ethnic nature of our society in which no one race truly dominates in terms of numbers. Anyway, what’s wrong with kebudayaan rojak? Malaysians like rojak. It’s good for them, and it helps nation building. Unity in diversity is certainly better for the vitality of our cultural life than the imposition of an artificially conceived national culture through legislation. A living culture, as everyone knows, grows naturally; it cannot be programmed or legislated according to an abstract recipe. And it is disingenuous of the UKM academics to blame linguistic diversity, in particular, for the failure of a true Malaysian nation to emerge. There are other factors, mainly political, which are really responsible.

As far as English is concerned, its widespread use can, under the right conditions, be good for the nation because like Bahasa Malaysia, English cuts across ethnic differences. Why regret the fact that our country has more than one lingua franca? Isn’t it better for unity and integration? I’d even be reckless enough to argue that in the present state of affairs, English is perhaps a better medium of integration, certainly among the middle and lower middle class Malaysians, than even the National Language. Why? Because it is not identified with any particular ethnic group. And if we confine ourselves to the middle and lower middle classes, more non-chauvinists are found among English-speaking Malaysians than among speakers of the other languages.

This is something that could make our English language novelists, poets, dramatists and essayists more sensitive to the dream of true nationhood and more alert to the evils of chauvinism. The ability of the National Language to bring about national integration is not in question here. But national integration is a very slow process; we could do with any help we can get in making it less slow. The English language, I think, can be a help here. And it doesn’t really matter that English is largely the language of the elite and its potential as a medium of integration is mainly confined to the middle class. This is after all the class from which most of our leaders come. And in the slow process of true nation –building, our leaders must show the way instead of being led by the masses in the name of political expediency. 

1 July 1992