Introspection for greater protection

THE relatively personal spirituality of Ramadan in the past two years has certainly been augmented by more social elements this year, now that going out for buka puasa, terawih, moreh and sahur is possible.

In Negri Sembilan, visiting different mosques brings unexpected lessons. There are the historical aspects – as architecture and interior design reflects the years (and budgets) of construction – diverse in their central pillars, calligraphic verses, use of shapes (usually crescent moons and stars) cut out of concrete walls for ventilation, and the sumptuous use of stained glass.

There are the sociological aspects, with some congregations bereft of young people, while others swell with “serban-ed” tahfiz students providing dulcet ameens.

Back in Kuala Lumpur, buka puasa events have provided staff a rare chance to assemble, rekindling friendships and restoring the collegiate focus that so many organisations require.

But other events this Ramadan have given Malaysian Muslims especially, much to think about.

One is ostensibly a religious issue, but also speaks to the question of inclusivity, as to who is allowed to even call themselves a Muslim.

This was triggered by a contradiction between the Islamic Development Department (Jakim) and National Council of Islamic Religious Affairs (MKI), surrounding recognition of the Tarekat Naqsyabandiah al-Aliyyah Syeikh Nazim al-Haqqani – incidentally, an internationally well-known Sufi order that has been officially recognised in Negri Sembilan since 2018.

With a clear statement from the Sultan of Selangor in his capacity as MKI chairman confirming that the tarekat is allowed to be practised, the Federal Constitution must prevail.

Islamic affairs come under the jurisdiction of the Rulers, and this must be maintained to prevent politicisation of religious matters. Such politicisation disrupts peace and harmony not only within the Muslim community, but also between Muslims and non-Muslims and, as we can see around the world, between nations.

Such hijacking of religion thrives in societies experiencing political or socio-economic tumult: that is why think tanks and civil society have crucial roles in helping to address issues such as cost of living, employment, housing, education and so on.

These affect all Malaysians, and their resolution weakens politicians’ attempts to instigate racial disunity.

Accompanying this is the necessity of institutional reform, such as strengthening Parliament so that debates are based on research and experience, rather than race, religion or political personalities.

Yet, two cases now in the courts have caused particular introspection.

The first concerns a conviction (and upcoming appeal) for reckless driving resulting in the death of eight children. This is not the place to regurgitate the publicly-known facts, but the questions being asked about the case are themselves revealing, coming broadly in two parts. The more legal and technical questions include “Why did the accused use an unsworn, rather than sworn statement?”, or “How did a car going so slowly kill eight people and turn turtle?”

But wider questions about basikal lajak have been asked. Social media is awash with videos of children riding bicycles with no brakes, no lights, at high speed, in formation, while doing stunts. There are comments from parents endorsing shops that sell the necessary equipment, with no acknowledgment (let alone condemnation) of the inherent safety risks.

Curiously, it is only Malay kids who seem to be partaking in this activity. Inevitably, when the driver is of one race and the victims are of another, there will always be those exploiting a racial agenda.

Thus, legitimate questions of safety awareness, road traffic rules and attitudes, parenting and the availability of safe entertainment for children must be answered.

Otherwise we will see more tragedies and more divisiveness.

The safety of children, particularly those with special needs, is triggered by another case in the courts: that of child neglect by the founder of a welfare home.

Although the testimony thus far makes for harrowing reading – to the point of suggesting systematic torture – it would be improper to preempt the judiciary.

It is nonetheless clear that there is an urgent need for better laws, training and enforcement.

At Yayasan Chow Kit and the Ideas Autism Centre, we go well beyond the legal requirements in terms of child protection, including continuous training of staff and social workers, and external audits of our processes.

But sadly, without the rigour of stronger laws and enforcement, other centres can get away with breaking whatever laws already exist, casting aspersions on all care centres with one inevitable result: less support from the community for the children who desperately need it.

Whether it comes to protecting children on the road or in care homes – or even followers of a tarekat – stronger protections, the rule of law and clear enforcement is good for Muslims.