By coincidence, just days after I observed how Nga Kor Ming seems unable to catch a break with the Malays—no matter what he does to reach out—he has once again made an effort to do precisely that.
This time, the outreach came in the form of self-appraisal.
“I’m from a Chinese school, but my Bahasa Melayu is satisfactory,” Nga declared, sounding more than a little proud of himself. The statement was made in the context of urging Malaysians to master the national language, following the Yang di-Pertuan Agong’s reminder that Bahasa Malaysia must continue to receive priority, even as other languages are strengthened. Nga went further: he stressed the dignity of the Malay language, spoke about diversity as Malaysia’s competitive advantage, and even reminded the public that he himself speaks six languages.
On the surface, this is an uncontroversial—perhaps even commendable—position. A cabinet minister affirming the primacy of Bahasa Malaysia while celebrating multilingualism should, in theory, be political common sense.
But politics is rarely about theory.
I suspect that Nga was trying to kill two birds with one stone with the claim. On one hand, he may have been defending Chinese schools, implicitly arguing that they are capable of producing citizens like him—products of vernacular education who nonetheless possess a satisfactory command of the national language. On the other hand, he may also have been extending yet another olive branch to the Malays. It is him saying: “ look, I have done my part; I have learned your language well; I am trying, sincerely, to meet you halfway. Please meet me halfway too.”
Personally, however, as with many of his previous attempts, I think this one will also come to naught.
Why?
Because if I put myself in the shoes of a Malay, I suspect that merely looking at Nga Kor Ming would be enough to trigger a visceral conclusion: there is nothing here—neither in Nga himself nor in Chinese schools more broadly—that gives me any reason to warm up them or him.
In another words, if I was a Malay, I imagine that I will be looking Nga in the same way that a Hindu might look at Zakir Naik.
Zakir Naik almost certainly knows more about Hinduism than the average Hindu. I would not be surprised if he could quote Hindu scriptures in the original Sanskrit. Yet no matter how deep his knowledge or how flawless his command of the Hinduism, I doubt any Hindu would ever look at Zakir Naik and think, “He is one of us.”
This is where I think many political actors—and commentators—get confused.
Facts are not the same as meaning.
You can break something down for me factually, with logic, examples, precedents, and case studies, to explain to me rationally why I should trust you. But I may still not trust you, simply because there is something about you that makes me feel that I can't be me if I were to do it.
Facts can be analysed ; but meaning can only be experienced.
Whether I see you as “one of us” or as “one of them” is not something that can be settled through rational argument alone. It is something that needs to experienced, not deduced.
Nga Kor Ming can deploy every word in the dictionary and every page ever written to make the case that Malays should trust him just as they would trust any one of their own. But I suspect all of this effort will still be in vain, because the immediate experience of his presence—his energy, his vibe—will already have delivered a verdict. To many, what they will experience from his presence, will simply not register as “one of us.”
Again, the Zakir Naik analogy applies. Even if Zakir were to memorise the Bhagavad Gita, master classical Sanskrit, and speak flawless Tamil, a Hindu would still struggle to experience him as part of the in-group.
I do not know how to explain this to Nga Kor Ming, but perhaps he should consider accepting a hard truth: no matter what he does, only the Chinese are likely to see him as one of their own.
This does not mean that all Chinese are incapable of reaching across ethnic boundaries. Some Chinese Malaysians are able to do this remarkably well, often by operating under a broader umbrella identity—Malaysian, rather than Chinese. Others, however, cannot make that leap. In my view, Nga Kor Ming belongs squarely in the second category.
This, however, does not have to be a bad thing.
Just because others will never see you as one of them does not mean you cannot work with them, hire them, trade with them, or come to workable arrangements with them. It does not even mean they will necessarily mistreat you.
But it does mean that you may always feel a certain sense of alienation—an undercurrent of loneliness or discomfort—when you are among them. You will, in other words, perpetually feel like a stranger among strange people, in a strange land, even when you are in your own home, among people you believe to be your own compatriots.
This verdict may be harsh, but if it is true, what can be done?
At some point, all of us will have to recongnise that we might not belong with the people we wish to belong to, no matter how hard we try.
This is true not only of nations, but of families as well.
There are many people who have eventually come to accept that they will never feel fully accepted, even within their own families. In the same way, some of us might just have to resign ourselves to not being accepted by our own citizens, no matter how hard we try to reach out to them.
The solution to alienation does not always lie in trying harder to gain acceptance. Sometimes, it lies in accepting the truth.
If you can accept that there is something about you that sets you apart, the sting of rejection—the isolation, the loneliness—may begin to fade. The bitterness of loneliness may give way to the sweetness or solitude. Resentment of what you don't or can't have may be replaced by appreciation for what you do have. Rather forever reaching for something just out of grasp, you may begin to embrace what has always been within reach.
That said, I suspect that I am writing this article more to indulge my own thoughts than because I believe I can reach Nga Kor Ming or those in his shoes.
With Nga, something tells me he will never give up trying to connect with the Malays.
To that, all I can say is: good luck.
If there is one thing we can say with certainty about life, it is that things change.
Today, I believe Nga Kor Ming will never truly connect with the Malays, even if he spends eternity trying. But tomorrow is another day.
In fact, I see Nga Kor Ming much the same way I see Anwar Ibrahim: as a winner.
As Mark Twain observed, impossible things are often achieved by those who are too foolish to know they are impossible.
As another saying goes, “You should never underestimate a man who overestimates himself.”
Some men—Vasco da Gama, Christopher Columbus, Ferdinand Magellan—were destined to find a new way or die trying.
Forgetting the “die trying” part, I believe that if there is anyone amongst us who will find a new way, it is the likes of Nga and Anwar.
Ganbatte!
Boleh!
Jia you!
Chak de patthe!
TheRealNehruism (nehru.sathiamoorthy@gmail.com) is a content creator under the Newswav Creator programme, where you get to express yourself, be a citizen journalist, and at the same time monetize your content & reach millions of users on Newswav. Log in to creator.newswav.com and become a Newswav Creator now!
The User Content (as defined on Newswav Terms of Use) above including the views expressed and media (pictures, videos, citations etc) were submitted & posted by the author. Newswav is solely an aggregation platform that hosts the User Content. If you have any questions about the content, copyright or other issues of the work, please contact creator@newswav.com.
