Kam Raslan’s Talking Edge

(Reprinted from The Edge – Options pullout, 30 March 2015 issue)

Dear Kam,
My question is simple: Hudud?
Livin’ on a prayer

Somebody once said a week is a long time in politics and the last few weeks have been a very long time in Malaysian politics. Last week, in particular, has been a political and emotional roller-coaster ride for just about everybody and it has left me with the terrible sense of complete personal irrelevance in my own country. One second, I’m getting used to being a lobster getting slowly boiled alive and I’m quite comfortable with the cooks sprinkling a little more seasoning onto the broth, and then suddenly, the heat is turned up and the entire historic nature of Malaysia is under threat. Suddenly, I’m feeling angry and very scared, I’m packing my bags and I’m contemplating how to write this column, which is in English and won’t make a blind bit of difference, anyway. Suddenly, I am made aware that I and just about everyone I know and everything I love about my country is completely and utterly irrelevant. I am, of course, talking about hudud.

At the risk of being threatened, I say that I don’t want hudud in Malaysia and until now, I never imagined it could actually happen. Perhaps I’m old-fashioned, but I think politicians should let me worry about my chances in the afterlife and that they should deal with more mundane issues like, I don’t know, floods (which in 2014 could metaphorically-speaking be described as being biblical in nature). But who cares what I might think. Last week has taught me that I must be a heathen for daring to question God’s law and that I must simply shut up because I’m not qualified to comment on God’s law and that, well, it’s God’s law. Would judgements be divinely administered or would punishments be meted out by mere mortal men? Non-Muslims, it seems, have absolutely no right to question anything because hudud would not be their law, so they, too, should shut up, and they, too, are irrelevant (what more do they want?). But to those who would threaten me with violent words and/or violent actions I say, calm down, you win.

And so, suddenly, I am to be cleaved away from a greater Malaysian society and put into an exclusively Muslim world (there are non-Malay Muslims in Malaysia). Whether I like it or not, I am to be cleaved away from the last vestiges of the Malaysian Dream of a secular and multiracial society that as Tunku Abdul Rahman said in his Merdeka speech should be, “a new nation inspired by the ideals of justice and liberty — a beacon of light in a disturbed and distracted world”. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted.

But a week is a long time in politics and at the time of writing, some of the dust has settled. I’ve unpacked my bags (but the suitcases are still out) because I’ve calmed down a little and I’m a little less scared. Once again, I may have overreacted. At the time of writing, the prime minister of Malaysia has not made a statement on this crucially important matter, although he did say that he takes exercise so seriously that he has a personal trainer and he has said that Malaysia needs the Sedition Act because, well, I didn’t read the rest. But listening to other political noises (Umno political noises because Umno is all that counts here), I get the sense that hudud will not only not be enacted in Kelantan but also not spread to the rest of Malaysia. A vote would be needed in Parliament to change the constitution and it wouldn’t be possible to gather the required two-thirds majority. The votes were never there but Pas was led to believe that they were. It was all just politics. Pas has been played, and in a way, we’ve all been played. Because the issue is of such fundamental importance, many people felt the need to come out and say something, both for and against. Some of the words and some of the reactions were not pretty.

The Pas hierarchy has exposed itself to be myopically fixated on hudud to the exclusion of anything else, but opinion polls suggest that only a small percentage of the electorate places it as the sole voting priority. If it were simply imposed, then people might roll over, but its importance disappears down the list when making a choice at the ballot box. Pas has exposed itself to be politically inept and has probably made itself irrelevant, but its obituary has been written many times before, and if it can reinvent itself or even split, then it might still have a role to play. I’m basing my guess on this political game from just a few utterances emanating from an opaque government. At the time of writing, it would seem that the storm has passed (or the hopes for religious purity have been dashed, depending on your point of view), but I could be very wrong. A day is a very long time in Malaysian politics and things could change again. If it is as I am guessing, then I have to admire the brilliance of the Umno political play. Pas was allowed to destroy itself and the Pakatan Rakyat alliance is fundamentally threatened, and all with very little effort. This political play may have been brilliant, but will it be through games like this that the government intends to change the undoubted aspirations that lie in the hearts and minds of the electorate? Or is that irrelevant?

A week ago, I was suddenly made to feel angry and very scared. Perhaps the storm has passed and perhaps I was simply played. But this event has left me with the unfortunate feeling that I am irrelevant, that much of Malaysian society is irrelevant, that I’m not even a pawn in a game beyond my control but its helpless victim because my vision of Malaysia could so easily be changed beyond recognition (welcome to my world, some of you might say). But my vision of Malaysia might be different from your vision of Malaysia and we all want to know we are relevant citizens when determining that vision. Although I might suddenly be feeling irrelevant, I must admit that myself and my kind (let’s say the urban middleclass) may not have been politically relevant but have been economically and culturally relevant for a long time. The advocates of hudud and their sometimes angry supporters have long felt themselves to be marginalised and disrespected by a greater society that reflexively believes in the inevitability of material progress. During this latest event, they may have glimpsed an opportunity to raise themselves to becoming our moral guardians, to gain the respect and relevance they feel they deserve. With a narrower and narrower cast of characters proclaiming to wield any relevance, more and more communities experience the sad reality that their voices are utterly irrelevant in their own country. Is this a healthy proposition for the future? My feeling is that Malaysia is not a game. I don’t want us to be put through that again. But who cares what I think.

Reprinted with the kind permission of