Language.
It cuts right to the heart of identity. If a non-native speaker could carry him or herself fluently in another language, praises would be heaped upon the speaker and a sense of glowing pride could be felt by the natives. It makes interactions all the more easier, and far sweeter some would say. It is no wonder anthropologists, carrying out studies in far flung corners of the world make much effort to study and imbibe the native languages of the tribes that they study. And the same goes for intelligence officers, I suppose.
Today, a controversial issue stemming from the government's decision to implement English as medium to impart and dissect for subjects Science and Mathematics, known as PPSMI, came to fore. At the heart of it, national identity and cultural pride stood out like a nail waiting to be hammered. Malay Language, or known as Bahasa Melayu, was seen as being sidelined as a result of this belated and some would say, misguided effort. Despite 50 years of independence, one cannot help but conclude that the body specifically created to disseminate the wealth and nuances of Malay Language, Dewan Bahasa Dan Pustaka, have failed. Period.
But I digress. Back to the present.
As I made my way to the National Mosque, the site of a protest against the implementation of PPSMI, the weather was foreboding and unpredictable. There was a sense of anticipation and excitement in the air. Police presence for the early parts could be basically described as minimal, and I was afforded much opportunity to photograph families with their children and the gathering protesters.
Shortly, I noticed a group of Amal volunteers forming a ring around a group of persons. I believe they were the driving force behind the protests. However, I was not able to identify a single person save for the long flowing locks of Datuk A. Samad Said, Malaysia's most pre-eminient National Laureate.
By this point of time, those same said persons, including our National Laureate made their way into the mosque for prayers. Despite the perception, the perceived affront posed by PPSMI was not only felt by Malay Malaysians, as it turns out...
...did I also mention some of those who turned up for the protest were far more interested in the study of Commerce and Finance rather than Science and Mathematics?
Language. At The Heart of the Issue.
Sorry, Nikon!
Mr. Sydney Jeremiah, seen on the left at the photograph below, was probably not too happy to see my face again, judging by his expression. By the way, I am in the process of e-mailing the photograph(s). So please call off the Special Branch.
"Why so serious?" The police and the protest organizers discuss the situation on the ground. The police, under orders straight from the very top, to utilize all means necessary to prevent the protest from making its way from the National Mosque to National Palace, attempts to dissuade the organizers from making the March. The organizers, energized by their supporters and belief in their cause, remains adamant at presenting a memorandum to His Royal Highness, The Supreme Head of Malaysia regarding their 'dissatisfaction' with PPSMI.
Shortly after, a jostling and shoving match between the protesters and security forces occur. Tense minutes pass by as one or two bottles are hurled towards the Boys in Red. A crowd of humanity swarms and surges over and by me...
...and before I knew it, 'gelungnya terpokah' and a tide of protesters washes over the Boys in Red. The March to the Palace was on.
A segment of the estimated 2000+ strong crowd making their way to the Palace to present the memorandum on PPSMI.
The photograph below was the last one I took before I was overwhelmed by tear gas. It was my first encounter, and it took place 100 meters downwind from where the canister landed. As I took in the first whiff, Madonna's controversial hit from the Eighties began playing in the back of my head. Yeah, you know the one.
I have always wondered how does tear gas feels like. Well, guess I found out at last.
Imagine the taste and scent of burning rubber infused with a light dose of exhaust fumes from a belching car two decades old. And imagine then when it hits your face, a stinging and burning sensation caused by rubbing excessive balm oil. And when you feel it in your throat, you get a sensation of dryness, inflammation, and thirst. And that was downwind 100 meters away.
I quickly ran back 50 meters or so and whipped out my water bottle. The stench and irritation was just too overwhelming. As I rinsed my face the best I could, several passerbys were afforded water as well from my bottle. Quickly, it finished and I sought out some salt to salve the irritation in my mouth and throat. Luckily for me, a gentleman from Unit Amal was on hand to dispense some.
Now, in the comfort of my home, I judge that the disproportionate reaction from the very top may have serious political repercussions in the future. When a much respected and highly apolitical National Laureate believes, rightly or wrongly, that the PPSMI may jeopardize the status of Malay Language, the raison d'etre for the existence of a particular political party comes into question.
It cuts right to the heart of identity. If a non-native speaker could carry him or herself fluently in another language, praises would be heaped upon the speaker and a sense of glowing pride could be felt by the natives. It makes interactions all the more easier, and far sweeter some would say. It is no wonder anthropologists, carrying out studies in far flung corners of the world make much effort to study and imbibe the native languages of the tribes that they study. And the same goes for intelligence officers, I suppose.
Today, a controversial issue stemming from the government's decision to implement English as medium to impart and dissect for subjects Science and Mathematics, known as PPSMI, came to fore. At the heart of it, national identity and cultural pride stood out like a nail waiting to be hammered. Malay Language, or known as Bahasa Melayu, was seen as being sidelined as a result of this belated and some would say, misguided effort. Despite 50 years of independence, one cannot help but conclude that the body specifically created to disseminate the wealth and nuances of Malay Language, Dewan Bahasa Dan Pustaka, have failed. Period.
But I digress. Back to the present.
As I made my way to the National Mosque, the site of a protest against the implementation of PPSMI, the weather was foreboding and unpredictable. There was a sense of anticipation and excitement in the air. Police presence for the early parts could be basically described as minimal, and I was afforded much opportunity to photograph families with their children and the gathering protesters.
Shortly, I noticed a group of Amal volunteers forming a ring around a group of persons. I believe they were the driving force behind the protests. However, I was not able to identify a single person save for the long flowing locks of Datuk A. Samad Said, Malaysia's most pre-eminient National Laureate.
By this point of time, those same said persons, including our National Laureate made their way into the mosque for prayers. Despite the perception, the perceived affront posed by PPSMI was not only felt by Malay Malaysians, as it turns out...
...did I also mention some of those who turned up for the protest were far more interested in the study of Commerce and Finance rather than Science and Mathematics?
Language. At The Heart of the Issue. Sorry, Nikon!
Mr. Sydney Jeremiah, seen on the left at the photograph below, was probably not too happy to see my face again, judging by his expression. By the way, I am in the process of e-mailing the photograph(s). So please call off the Special Branch.
"Why so serious?" The police and the protest organizers discuss the situation on the ground. The police, under orders straight from the very top, to utilize all means necessary to prevent the protest from making its way from the National Mosque to National Palace, attempts to dissuade the organizers from making the March. The organizers, energized by their supporters and belief in their cause, remains adamant at presenting a memorandum to His Royal Highness, The Supreme Head of Malaysia regarding their 'dissatisfaction' with PPSMI.
Shortly after, a jostling and shoving match between the protesters and security forces occur. Tense minutes pass by as one or two bottles are hurled towards the Boys in Red. A crowd of humanity swarms and surges over and by me...
...and before I knew it, 'gelungnya terpokah' and a tide of protesters washes over the Boys in Red. The March to the Palace was on.
A segment of the estimated 2000+ strong crowd making their way to the Palace to present the memorandum on PPSMI.The photograph below was the last one I took before I was overwhelmed by tear gas. It was my first encounter, and it took place 100 meters downwind from where the canister landed. As I took in the first whiff, Madonna's controversial hit from the Eighties began playing in the back of my head. Yeah, you know the one.
I have always wondered how does tear gas feels like. Well, guess I found out at last.Imagine the taste and scent of burning rubber infused with a light dose of exhaust fumes from a belching car two decades old. And imagine then when it hits your face, a stinging and burning sensation caused by rubbing excessive balm oil. And when you feel it in your throat, you get a sensation of dryness, inflammation, and thirst. And that was downwind 100 meters away.
I quickly ran back 50 meters or so and whipped out my water bottle. The stench and irritation was just too overwhelming. As I rinsed my face the best I could, several passerbys were afforded water as well from my bottle. Quickly, it finished and I sought out some salt to salve the irritation in my mouth and throat. Luckily for me, a gentleman from Unit Amal was on hand to dispense some.
Now, in the comfort of my home, I judge that the disproportionate reaction from the very top may have serious political repercussions in the future. When a much respected and highly apolitical National Laureate believes, rightly or wrongly, that the PPSMI may jeopardize the status of Malay Language, the raison d'etre for the existence of a particular political party comes into question.
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2 comments:
Street demonstration will only tarnish Malaysia as a whole.. i totally reject street demon, Its so stupid to do that
Postscript.
1. Recalling back, the fumes from the tear gas also faintly smelled like those pesticides used for fogging houses against mosquitoes.
2. I could not recall, nor was aware of the presence, if they did show up, of PEWARIS (Pertubuhan Profesional Melayu & Pewaris Bangsa) during the protest. They apparently did a no show that day. Strange.
3. National Laureate, i.e. Sasterawan Negara, Datuk A. Samad Said, bedecked in an elegant Baju Melayu and Songkok, took the brunt of the tear gas as he was at the head of the protest.
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