Tribute #4:
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I went to Kuala Lumpur on my own with the intention of attending the Bersih 2.0 rally as a citizen after some business meetings in the city. Having come back to this country recently after having been away for more than 20 years, I wanted to experience a re-baptism as a Malaysian.
On the morning of July 9 I was in despair. Given the heavy police lockdown of the city that had become evident the night before, how would I know where others would be gathering? I was not familiar with the streets and did not quite know how to get to any of the pre-announced meeting points, i.e. Dataran Merdeka, Sogo Shopping Centre and Masjid Jamek Kampung Baru, on my own.
Fortunately, I met Chua Jui Meng (“CJM”) of PKR and some in his group by chance. Although we had only just met for the first time, they invited me to join them. I was glad for the invitation since I “did not know how to go where.”
The following are the insights and thoughts that came to me as we made our way to Masjid Jamek, the entrance to Stadium Merdeka and beyond. This was the first time I had engaged in civil disobedience.
I should not divulge the details of how we finally got to the Masjid Jamek area. Suffice to say that it dawned on me after the first 20 minutes or so of walking that the PAS network on the ground was directing us to the destination. Without their detailed knowledge of the lay of the land, there was no way we could have gotten there without being nabbed by the boys in blue.
After 20 minutes into our walk, two young Malay men, tailed us and then boldly walked among us. They looked like they could give and take a few punches and still remain on their feet. After another 10 minutes of walking, I was wondering if they were Umno Youth or Perkasa fighters who had been tipped off to shadow us.
One of them sensed that I was feeling uneasy about their presence and pulled out his wallet and from it, his PAS membership card. “Don’t worry. I am from PAS,” he told me in clear and well pronounced English, his gentle voice at variance with his rough looks. “Oh, yes… of course. Thank you very much,” I beamed at him. They were there to protect us.
The largely Malay crowd which had gathered in the Masjid Jamek area just before 2pm seemed to look to CJM as the leader. Malays freely came up to shake hands and exchange banter with him. I was absolutely flabbergasted with the fact that more than several Malay women in Islamic head dress, both young girls and middle-aged women, asked to pose for photographs with him as if he were a film star or a famous footballer. As telephone cameras clicked, some Malay men too asked to have their photographs taken with him. I was delighted with this spontaneous show of inter-ethnic goodwill.
CJM asked the people in his group: “Who is the PAS leader in this area and if there is none available at this time, are they expecting me to lead?” For whatever reason, there seemed to have been no PAS person of similar seniority on site at that time. Perhaps, the police lockdown had prevented the designated person from arriving.
Some Malays in the crowd began to shout “Chua Jui Meng”, inviting him to play in a more forward position. CJM was put into the centre position about six deep from the front line as we faced off the police cordon some distance away. CJM was surrounded by Malays whose body language suggested that they had taken it upon themselves to protect him.
The moment of truth soon arrived. No sooner had I hooked arms with an Indian and a Malay as part of a marching row, word came from the front ranks that the FRU was about to fire tear gas canisters. The people around shared their salt with me.
They advised me on how to mitigate the effects of the tear gas. Seconds later, the gas came and there was mayhem. The crowd scattered. As an asthmatic, the gas stung my lungs particularly strongly. The salt saved me.
When it came to the standoff between us and the FRU outside Stadium Merdeka, CJM was again recognised as the most experienced leader in the crowd and was put into the front row in the centre. CJM spoke to the police on behalf of the crowd. Several Malays in the crowd told others to pipe down so that CJM could be heard.
After a while, CJM moved to the front left corner of the crowd and began negotiating with the police for the crowd to be allowed to enter the stadium. A few minutes later, the largely Malay crowd cheered and made way for two women, one Indian and the other a Chinese (I think), to move from the back of the crowd to join CJM in his discussions with the police. I guessed they were Bersih executives.
A while later, Dr Mohd Hatta Ramli (“MHR”) of PAS arrived and was moved up to the front lines, about five deep from the first row. Perched on somebody’s shoulder, he began to address the crowd unaware that CJM was negotiating with the police.
I could hear Malays around me expressing concern that CJM and MHR were unaware of each other’s presence and thus might unwittingly be working at cross-purposes. One of the Malays called out in English, “Dr Hatta, please come over here. Please discuss with Chua Jui Meng.”
The police would not budge. MHR and CJM told the crowd that our objective of meeting at the stadium had already been achieved and a head-on confrontation with the police was not necessary. The crowd then headed for KLCC.
The protestors were very well behaved. I stopped by a 7-Eleven outlet to buy bottled water. Within seconds of my joining the queue at the cash register with a bottle of water in hand, scores of fellow protestors came into the shop.
Eager to get back onto the street, a number of them jumped the queue at the cash register counter. They wanted to pay fast. This was the only bit of “misbehaviour” that I saw. Not a single person left the left the shop without paying.
Ten minutes later, we ran along the street as police fired tear gas canisters. One fell just a foot from me but the gas wafted away rather than towards me. Also, the high humidity after the afternoon rain seemed to mute the effects of the gas.
Less lucky with the tear gas was a young Malay man, who ran past me with his eyes closed. I tapped his shoulder to stop him. I splashed some water on his face. In the next few seconds, I splashed water on three Malays and an Indian, all suffering from the ill-effects of tear gas. That finished the bottle of water that I bought. I was confident that if I needed water later on, somebody would help me.
Later on, we moved to the KLCC area where we met up with others who were with Badrul Hisham Shaharin (“BHS”) of PKR and Nasarudin Hassan Tantawi (“NHT”) of PAS. As a police helicopter whirled above us, MHR, CJM, BHS, NHT and another person spoke. They were all superb public speakers. They spoke from the heart and not under the guise of managerial mumbo jumbo like ETP, GTP, Pemandu, etc.
Proceedings ended when the police, backed by water cannons, moved in to arrest people.
As a non-Malay, what did I think of the day’s events and the future?
The non-Malays were a minority among the protestors. The Malay protestors around me were everything that one could wish for in a fellow citizen. They were courageous, courteous, and helpful and, without so many words, welcomed the non-Malay presence in the common struggle for free and fair elections. They had come from near and far. They spoke with conviction and looked to Allah to fortify their determination in facing a state sanctioned display of force.
For the minorities to have a sense of belonging to this country, the political space has to be kept open, inclusive, transparent and responsive to the forces of globalisation. That can only happen if we are prepared stand up and defend constitutionalism and the rule of law. That cannot be done from a minority position. We must engage the Muslim majority and stand in solidarity with them to reclaim the country, which is now in the hands of a ruling elite that is out of touch with the real issues and disdainful of the people.
I saw with my own eyes that the PAS Malays in the crowd that I walked with comfortably looked to CJM for leadership until their own leader, MHR, arrived. This shows that when there is trust, Malays can accept the best available person for the job in speaking up for them. The sight of a largely Malay crowd responding to a non-Malay politician was a heartwarming scene for me.
Come to think of it, such open-mindedness should not have been surprising. After all, the Malays were there for a rally that was originated by a multi-ethnic group of activists whose leader is an Indian woman. This shows that the Malays whom I walked with on July 9 are willing to fight for their country on the basis of high principles. They ignored the shrill calls for Malay supremacy from Perkasa. They know there is no future in supporting a bankrupt idea, the main purpose of which is to perpetuate a kleptocratic oligarchy.
The non-Malays need to put aside their fears of May 13 if we want to say that this is our country too. We must step up to the plate in solidarity with our Malay brethren in a more visible manner. And when the street marches are over and the task of rebuilding the country’s institutions and improving its productive capacity becomes urgent, our contribution of skills and expertise will be much needed.
We must reach out and share these skills and expertise. We will find that there are many smart, well-educated, hard-working and open-minded Malays who will connect with us to work for all Malaysians on the basis of equality and common dignity.
In this note, I have bothered to mention specific observations of brotherhood between Malays and non-Malays because it gives me such a good feeling to relate them to you. I hope that in the future, observations of brotherhood between Malays and non-Malays would be unnecessary because it would be unremarkable then.
In that future, we would have become one people at heart, i.e. Malaysians, although we will likely remain ethnically different peoples during my life time.
I believe that this country can have a great future again on the basis of liberty, equality and fraternity. I felt that on July 9, 2011.
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