IT’S strange, but I have to go halfway around the world to the United States to actually come face to face to with our nation’s history of being a British colony.
Time and time again, I am confronted by that question that any foreigner would have to face in a distant English-speaking land: “Your English is amazing!”
This exclamation would then be followed by a variation of, “When did you learn how to speak English?”, by some random American to which I would reply, “Since birth”, much to wonder and amazement.
I would then have to explain that for a period of time, 131 years specifically, we were colonised by the British and, as such, have adopted much from them. Their education and legal structure, their strong sense of feudalism, and more than anything else, the Queen’s English.
“It’s really not a big deal,” I would say. “Most Malaysians speak three or four languages or dialects, and English is almost always one of them.”
When I shared that Malaysia will be celebrating its 61st Independence Day today, most were astonished. “Sixty-one years only? Wow, that’s a young country!”
I never looked at it that way.
As a proud millennial born in the late 80s, I have only known and existed in a free Malaysia. I have not known any wars, but I have known some form of rebellions through my participation in three Bersih rallies, done my share of griping against the establishment at the mamaks over my roti canai and teh tarik — but never had I ever been directly subjugated by a coloniser of my nation.
I am also very aware that we, as a nation, are not that patriotic — we tend to take Malaysia for granted. Americans, on the other hand,
are very patriotic.
Almost everywhere I go to here — be it public space or residential — there will most probably be an American flag.
“It’s the greatest country in the world,” said yet another American to me, without any irony. “Yes, we are not a fan of our president now, but this nation is more than Donald Trump. Trump would be gone one day, but this country would still be here.”
Fact of the matter is, America has a lot of problems. It’s a huge nation that is increasingly being divided between the far right (Republican) and far left (Democrat). It has an unfathomable immigration issue that most Malaysians can’t even begin to understand, and its gun policy issue is such a mess now that most public spaces have taken to post “NO GUNS ALLOWED” signs.
But Americans remain ardently patriotic and proud.
In comparison, Malaysia is very much in a better position than America.
We had, in May, peacefully voted out the world’s longest ruling political party.
Our new prime minister is neither a global security threat nor an embarrassment the way Trump is and despite the shadow of the 1MDB scandal and our many gripes and complaints in Facebook’s comment section, we are for the most part, living the good and peaceful life.
So, why are we not proud? Why is it that the only thing that can unite us is our love for nasi lemak, rendang and Lee Chong Wei, but not for Jalur Gemilang or each other? Why, despite 61 years of independence, some of us do not have this pride for our nation, the way that majority of the Americans do?
I don’t have the answer to that, but I do know that the political change that took place in May has given me hope.
Hope for a new future that perhaps, in due time we can all shake off our chequered past from over a century of British colonisation to decades of questionable government rule to create a better, more inclusive Malaysia for all.
I, for one, know that I will be doing my part as I turned down a (theoretical) job offer from an American chief editor to work in the US, without a second thought. A year ago, I would have jumped at the offer, but after May 2018, I rather stay than leave.
Malaysia ini #kitapunya, and I will do my part to rebuild it.
Selamat Hari Merdeka, Malaysia.
The writer is embarking on the World Press Institute (WPI) Fellowship in the United States. WPI had, since 1961, gathered 10 international journalists annually for a whirlwind tour of the American press landscape