Bridging gaps in understanding with books

I RECENTLY finished reading two books. The first is A Policeman by Tun Dr Wan Junaidi Tuanku Jaafar (the current Yang di-Pertua Negeri of Sarawak) recounting his 14-year career with the Royal Malaysia Police, including his work with the Police Field Force fighting in the jungle against the communist insurrection and terrorism.

The second book is Life: My Story Through History by Pope Francis, who was appointed to the papal position more than a decade ago.

In both books I found many bridges between me and my father, between a Melayu Semenanjung and a Melayu Sarawak, and between me as a Muslim and the Pope as a Christian. I twice had the privilege of meeting Wan Junaidi who gifted me his books; I will probably never have a chance to meet His Holiness the Pope in person, though.

In today’s column, I would like to discuss bridging gaps in understanding, embarking on spiritual growth, and understanding the political interdependence between people and faith, all just by reading books.

I believe reading and writing books are no longer considered of much worth in our fast-paced life of counting university rankings and commodity products.

The world is ablaze with wars, genocide, and hatred stemming from mistrust, poor understanding, and poor knowledge about our neighbours, our fellow humans on this earth – and all because we no longer reach out for understanding.

The book by Wan Junaidi is most precious to me.

Firstly, it opened up a world that my policeman father never showed me. I sensed that my father had issues with his work, with its dangers, poor pay, and extended time away from the family. He used to say, “Kamu patut jadi engineer or architect so you don’t be a police cabuk like ayah”. “Cabuk” in the northern dialect means “worn out” or “useless” or “of little value”. Well, I never thought my father was in any way cabuk when I was growing up in the police barracks.

Secondly, the book introduced me to the life of a Melayu Sarawakian, which was a huge mystery to me.

Wan Junaidi recounts his life in his kampung, using snippets of his Malay dialect which is as strange to me as the Kelantanese dialect in Semenanjung.

He writes of his parents who were storytellers, preserving the myths and legends of their heritage. I came across many names I had never heard of during my 12 years of “Malaysian” education.

I feel that our politicians and academics failed me by depriving me of this beautiful and important knowledge held by the people of Sabah and Sarawak.

It’s interesting to learn how the policeman from Sarawak was treated by Semenanjung Malay policemen when he came over, and also how he was treated by Malay Majlis Amanah Rakyat (now Mara Corp) officers when he tried asking for a Mara loan to study law in England. He was frustrated by the “discriminatory attitude of the officers”, as he puts it, and ended up selling whatever he owned to finance his studies.

There’s action too in Wan Junaidi’s tale, as he recounts skirmishes with the communists that resulted in the deaths of police personnel as well as the capture and deaths of many insurgents.

Reading about the frightening jungle wars reminded me of two things. First, it reminded me of how my mother became frail and succumbed to a serious anxiety disorder that controlled her life for 35 years.

Growing up, it never occurred to me that my mother had to worry every day about whether she would have a husband or whether we six children would have a father when my dad was off fighting the communists, dealing with the race riots, and facing the Indonesian Confrontation.

Secondly, it taught me that we should consider the backgrounds of our politicians, whether they are silver spoon candidates of the “daddy kasi” (daddy provides) type or veterans of life with careers that shaped their character.

I became interested in the book about Pope Francis after watching the Netflix movie The Two Popes, about one sitting Pope resigning, only to be replaced by a cardinal who had wanted to retire after becoming disappointed by all the religious politicking.

The real life Pope, Argentinian Jorge Mario Bergoglio, was ordained as a Catholic priest in 1969. Then came the civil unrest in Argentina that saw many of his friends killed.

When Bergoglio became Pope Francis, he wanted to be closer to the people and he went out not only on a quest to provide hope for the poor of Christendom but also to pave the way towards seeking peace among the world’s different faiths.

He strongly signalled this when he attended the “Bahrain Forum for Dialogue: East and West for Human Coexistence” in November 2022; unfortunately I cannot find any follow up to any resolutions made there.

Reading and writing books played a huge part in shaping the person I am today but, sadly, I believe books aren’t considered important nowadays. Wan Junaidi told me that he wanted to set up a foundation to support and encourage people of note to write about their life experiences, hopes, and lessons.

I told him that universities no longer consider writing books an activity of any worth, and they value only “high impact journal” articles as the measure of academic excellence.

Books are the “downloads” of human thoughts, aspirations, conscience, and questions that can be passed on meaningfully to the next generation. Perhaps that is why we are where we are now – not many write books and even fewer read them.

Prof Dr Mohd Tajuddin Mohd Rasdi is Professor of Architecture at the Tan Sri Omar Centre for Science, Technology and Innovation Policy Studies at UCSI University.

The views expressed here are entirely the writer’s own.