The Ugly Muslim - Mariam Mokhtar

The Muslim NGO Pembela is wrong to blame Christianity for the alleged decline of Islam in Malaysia because the worst enemies of Islam, in Malaysia , are from within the ranks of the Muslims.

Islam may be a beautiful religion, but some of the Muslims in Umno, Utusan Malaysia, and the extremist groups like Perkasa and Pembela are ugly. Islam may preach love and tolerance, but Muslims in Umno, Utusan, Perkasa and Pembela are bigots who are consumed with hate.

Perhaps the so-called Muslims in these organisations, who profess to be true Muslims, are Muslim in name only.They lust after power and are aware that without the Malay vote, the activities of their party, their newspaper, their institution or their way of life (the Ketuanan Melayu lording it over other communities) will be curtailed or cease to exist altogether.

Umno has been stung by the successes of the Opposition in Sarawak . They then suffered further humiliation with PAS rejecting their overtures. So,their only recourse to remain in power, come the general election, has been to provoke and manipulate Malay/Muslim minds, especially the rural Malays.

Umno has capitalised on the power of distraction. The trick is to divert Malaysians from BN's failure to stabilise the economy, to reinvigorate the private sector and investment, and to manage the public finances.

Instill fear in Malays, blame the others

They do this by instilling fear in the Malays and by shifting the blame onto others. This time, the hapless recipient of Umno's degeneracy, are the Christians of Malaysia . On previous occasions, it has been the 'ungrateful' Chinese.

Last Saturday, Utusan Malaysia defiantly provoked Malaysians with a front-page headline claiming the DAP was in league with a group of Christian pastors to instal Christianity as the country's official religion. The insinuation was that the act would pave the way for a Christian prime minister.

Had this been a non-BN sanctioned newspaper, the editors would have been sacked and jailed, their licence to print revoked and the paper shut down.As Utusan is owned by Umno, it was business as usual at this Malay daily.

Time and time again, Utusan has got away with seditious publicationswhen others, like Raja Petra Kamaruddin, face arrest for publishing revealing documents. It is the same treatment meted to Clare Rewcastle-Brown, the non-Muslim founder of the online website, Sarawak Report (SR).

SR prints original documents alleging Sarawak Chief Minister Taib Mahmud's corruption and illegally obtained wealth. Clare is trying to make Malaysians aware of Taib's corruption, but very few of the Muslims in Umno have taken heed.

It is without doubt that weak leadership of the country has given rise to this dangerous state of affairs.

Najib's pledge may prove to be just hot air

Prime Minister Najib Abdul Razak finally broke his silence on the Utusan article; however, his announcement that the government would 'investigate the matter before it was blown out of proportion' and lead to 'serious polarisation in society', may prove to be just more hot air.

Perhaps he should ask himself how many times Utusan has been guilty of sedition and escaped censure? Most will say far too often.

How soon, and how severely, will he clamp down on the extremist Muslim elements in Malaysia , who have fanned anger and suspicion in the community?

Perkasa has already lodged a series of police reports in every state, saying that the 'Christian state issue' was a threat to national security.

Pembela finds fault with the Christians, by claiming that the Christians were on a mission to convert Muslims in the country, starting with "confusing" Muslims by the use of Islamic terms, presumably like the word 'Allah'.

Those who have lived in the 50s, 60s, 70s and 80s will recall that Christmas was a time when all the races and religions would mix and mingle in open houses. There was no issue with the food or drink, no issue with the religious symbols like crosses or that there was a Christmas tree and hymns and carols were sung. Those times are but a distant memory.

If it is any consolation, all these machinations by the media are an indication that the general election is near.There is nothing like a dose of fear to manipulate people to do the wrong thing.

Perhaps the best way to reason the perceived threat to Islam, in Malaysia , is in the Muslim populace. If Islam here is under siege, it is because the enemy is the 'Ugly Muslim'.

They are the ones who crave power. They are the ones who maintain that the term 'Allah' cannot be used by non-Muslims in Peninsular Malaysia , but is permissible in Borneo . They are the ones who confiscated the Bible in the Malay language and held the Christians to ransom.

So, why do they keep silent on the serious issues?

If we dig deeper, who are the ones who force children to convert to Islam, if one of the parents becomes a Muslim? How about body snatching or grave robbing? What about the child in Sarawak who was whipped for eating food that had been prepared for his school break?

What about the women who are treated like cattle? Or those who are abandoned by their husbands who yearn for a younger model? What about the Muslims who are flogged for drinking beer when this should be a personal choice?

What about the moral policing which has caused several deaths? What about the endemic corruption or the public screening of sex videos? What about child marriages?

Why do the Muslims keep silent on these serious issues but harp on about a fictitious demand by the Christians for Christianity to be the official state religion?

The biggest threats to Malaysia and Islam in Malaysia are the thieving, power-grabbing Muslims in political parties, the media and the NGOs, who know the truth but prefer to manipulate it for their own selfish means.

They have failed their fellow Malaysian and others of their religion. That is the profile of the Ugly Muslim.

A day in the life of an ordinary Malaysian — By Mariam Mokhtar

I wake up and retrieve the newspaper lodged in the letter-box. My “Keling paper” has delivered it faithfully, come rain or  shine. 

I go to the kitchen and make breakfast. Into the toaster goes the bread sent to my home, the previous afternoon, by my “Keling roti”. It has been made by the local bakers, the FBI — Federal Bakery Ipoh — owned by a mamak. 

But if I am out for breakfast, it is usually a roti canai at my local Indian’s. Followed by a char kway snack from “auntie”, a Chinese lady. 

Halfway through the morning, the sound of a horn alerts me that Ah Fatt, our “grocer on wheels”, has arrived. He brings me fresh vegetables,  fish and the usual dried condiments.

 Once a month, our local “Keling botol” comes round to collect our empty bottles. Our “Cina paper” too comes to collect the old newspapers.

 My neighbour comes round with some pisang grown in her garden. She is Indian, married to a Chinese policeman. I am grateful for his tips on how to keep my house secure. When my ubi kayu harvest is plentiful, I’d go round and return her kind gesture.

 I have a gardener. His name is Velu. From the name, you can guess he is Indian. He is much adored by my children. If my son is not in his room, I know where to find him — under the mango tree, in the garden, sharing chapatti, dhall and “tapau” teh tarik with Velu. I told my son off for demolishing Velu’s packed breakfast, but Velu was happy to share his meal. Both were sporting toothless grins — Velu has no teeth and can’t afford dentures. My toddler has just lost his two front teeth.
 
 I’ve no idea what they chat and laugh about. Sometimes not a lot of gardening gets done. But who cares? At least they're happy. When Velu died, my son was distraught. He had been with our family for decades and refused to be pensioned off.

 My general practitioner for the usual coughs and colds is Chinese. All women have a gynaecologist — mine is Indian.
 And my dentist is Chinese...  These people provided services to my parents in the past, and I simply carried on with them. No complaints. Good service.
 Reasonable fee.
 
I did go to a Malay doctor once, but he was more interested in “tackling” my younger sister. I dismissed his lack of professionalism as testosterone driven. He was still a bachelor then..
 And on the second visit, years later, he was fishing for information about other members of my family. One personal question might be excusable.
 
 But twice is too much of a coincidence. I never did return to him. In my eyes, his professional conduct was compromised by these intrusions.  I know I shouldn’t be generalising, but this was my personal experience.

 When I had to be admitted to hospital, the surgeon who operated on me was Indian. The nurses were either Chinese or Indian.

 I once had to use the services of a lawyer — an Indian.

 The person who supplies me with stationery is a Chinese woman married to an Indian man. She once supplied my father’s business with his office stationery needs.

 When I once had a leaky water tank, the plumber who successfully mended it was an Indian. He now takes care of all the house’s plumbing repairs. He was my parents’
 plumber too.

 When my house needed new electrical wiring, the electrician was a Chinese person. When I needed outside electrical work to be done, the electrician was Indian. Both had provided long-term services to the family.

 Before Raya, I would go to my Chinese tailor to make my baju kurung. My hair is cut by a Chinese woman. As before, these people once supplied my mother, all her
 tailoring and hair-grooming requirements. My father’s barber is an Indian.

 Again, before Raya, my mother’s Chinese friends at work would send tins of “love letters”, kueh kapit, for us to enjoy and serve at our open house.
 And early on Raya day itself, several plates of pie tee would arrive and my father’s Indian colleagues would send a big pot of chicken curry and putu mayam.
 The dining table groans with our rendang and the contributions from our friends, of all races and religions.

 For several decades, until my parents were too old and infirm to receive guests, we would have an open house that was a riot of people sporting various national costumes. A real melting point — a true reflection of Malaysia .

 These people once provided my grandparents and my parents essential services. Either that, or they were colleagues at work, or friends from their younger days.

 They, who have grown old alongside my grandparents and parents.

 And now, people are telling me that these non-Malays whom I have grown up with and who have remained friends, through thick and thin, are second-class citizens..?

 That they do not deserve to be Malaysians? That they are far inferior to me?

 So am I to believe that should my neighbour’s husband, a Chinese, make the ultimate sacrifice in the line of duty, that his life is not as valuable as a Malay policeman’s?

 Who are these self-serving, self-righteous bigots kidding?