When we see with our hearts

How the life of one Malay man is shaped by the strength of multiculturalism in Malaysia.

I THOUGHT it would be appropriate for me to wish all my Chinese friends and those I have known throughout my life – which reached 63 years a few days ago – a happy Chinese New Year.

There are many things about this nation that disturb me and I thought a trip down memory lane might trigger better feelings, greater hope and maybe even cast a better reflection upon all of us today.

I would like to thank the many Chinese men and women who have crossed my path over the years and helped make me who I am now. While I cannot name them all as memory fails me, their faces still linger clearly in my mind, along with their actions.

One of my early memories are of the Chinese gentleman who sheltered my family in his bungalow during the race riots on May 13, 1969.

My police constable father was fearful that the barracks where we lived might come under attack and moved all seven of us into this man’s house. I remember thinking the owner must be rich as the house contained a lot of furniture and appliances that I had only seen through shop windows.

Then of course there are all my Chinese teachers during my primary school years at St Marks Primary in Butterworth, Penang; there were no Malay teachers who taught me at this level.

During my secondary school years at St Marks Secondary in Bagan Ajam, Butterworth, I remember “Uncle” who cheerfully drove us to school every day, and one Chinese teacher by the name of Mr Peter who taught us English. He was blind but he could recognise anyone by their voices.

After one and a half years, I transferred to SMJK Hua Lian in Taiping, Perak, and I remember all the faces of the Chinese teachers who taught me all the subjects, including Bahasa Malaysia.

Season’s greetings: Mohd Tajuddin (seated, second from right), his wife (seated, right), his five children, three sons-in-law and four grandchildren celebrating his 63rd birthday.

There was the teacher who managed my class, Form 2D1, the last and most notoriously naughty class, and did it well. I remember my Bahasa Malaysia teacher who spoke excellent Malay.

There are only two actual names I can recall, Miss Lam Lai Peng and Madam Chang Kah Moon (who has passed away). Miss Lam was my class teacher in both Form Four Science 1 and Form Five Science 1.

When I received a scholarship from the Public Works Department to study for my Bachelor’s and Master’s in Architecture in the United States, it was a Chinese man, Lai, who helped us Malay scholarship students acclimatise to life in Green Bay, Wisconsin.

I remember Lai saying to our still jetlagged and tired group, “You all rehat dulu dan kalau lapar boleh saja ambil apa-apa ramen noodle dari kitchen ini” (rest first and if you’re hungry just help yourself to any of the ramen noodles in this kitchen). I think I still owe him three noodle packages!

Throughout my 27 years as a lecturer at Universiti Teknologi Malaysia I only had three Chinese colleagues. We worked well together but they distanced themselves respectfully from the 95% Malay staff.

There are two other Chinese men who had a great impact on my later life: One was my gastroenterologist, Dr Lau, who treated me for a serious stomach condition. Then there was Dr Jimmy who was the psychiatrist who guided me through two years of dealing with a panic disorder – my career would have ended without his help. In fact, without these two gentlemen I doubt I would have survived medically or mentally.

After we moved to my wife’s home town of Kajang, Selangor, my application for a position was rejected by three public universities. I was by then a senior academic and had written well over 50 books, so I wondered what issues the administrators at these three institution could have had with me.

Could it have something to do with my criticisms in the media of how my fellow Malays sometimes behaved? Or was it my objections to some of the policies of the then Barisan Nasional government?

I always clearly pointed out in my writings that what I was trying to do was help my community understand the ideals of the Islamic Reformation of the time, but I was always branded a “Chinese sympathiser”, a “Christian agent” and a “sesat (lost) Muslim”.

It was a private university that eventually hired me. I believe it was because the owner valued my efforts to save Malaysia from racial extremism and religious bigotry through my writing. My career would have ended in 2015 if it were left up to my own community.

I would also like to honour and thank all the media outlets (mostly led by Chinese men and women) that trusted me to be a columnist during the last days of the Reformasi period prior to the 2022 general election.

For almost a decade, these online and print media outlets carried my ideas and thoughts and explanations for some of the social, political, educational, and religious issues plaguing the country. A shout out to Sin Chew Daily, The Star, The Borneo Post, and Malaysiakini.

In civil society circles, I also owe a thank you to the Kuala Lumpur & Selangor Chinese Assembly Hall for opening its doors to me to contribute in forums, talks, and book launches.

The same goes to the great Pak Chong of Gerakbudaya, which is, in my opinion, the only thinking book publisher amidst the great number of universities that we have in this country.

Finally, I wish to also thank six unknown young Chinese adults who willingly donated blood for my heart bypass surgery in 2018; I underwent an emergency angioplasty with three stents placed.

I feel most honoured that these six people gave their life blood for a Malay man whom they had never met but had read about and heard of through my Chinese students at UCSI University.

Today, on the eve of Chinese New Year, I would like to wish all Malaysian Chinese a Salam Tahun Baru Cina. The life of one Malay boy and man owes much to the strength of multiculturalism in Malaysia. This is the true secret to our social, economic, and spiritual success, if only we could see with our hearts always.

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.