Slamming stuttering tongues is just another act in a long history of
oppression. Malaysia has a problem with
language, and more particularly its use and abuse.
Footballer
Faiz Subri’s recent address in English upon his reception of the 2016
FIFA Puskás Award has stirred familiar debates about language choice
and identity politics. His stammering invited predictable reproach.
Fortunately, many stood in his defence.
This
squabble might seem mundane, but is hardly trivial. Despite 54 years of
nationhood, insecurity still strikes at the heart of the nation’s culture. That
a lack of language proficiency is something to be ashamed of remains a common
symptom of this hang-up in postcolonial Malaysia.
This
battle of culture and pride is waged through the politics of language, with
Malay and English the two belligerents. If the former represents the national
language, the latter is deemed “colonial.” Both languages have locked horns
with each other since the period leading to Malaya’s independence, starting
with the Barnes report in 1951 (a British proposal to develop a national
education system in Malaysia), followed by 1956’s Razak Report (a Malayan
education counter proposal).
After
independence it was seen in former prime minister Dr Mahathir’s PPSMI (Teaching
and Learning of Science and Mathematics in English), introduced in 2003, and
its substitute MBMMBI (Upholding the Malay Language and Strengthening Command
of English). The ongoing scuffle between Malay and English has witnessed a
multitude of policy negotiations, street demonstrations, and on a more personal
level, language shaming.
In
Malaysia, verbally bashing people for their stuttering and broken language use
is in fashion. Before Faiz Subri, there was the Deputy Prime Minister Zahid
Hamidi. His speech at the United Nations General Assembly in 2015 was
lambasted not for the content but for his non-fluent English. The inability to
speak Malay has also received criticisms, but of a different kind – instead of
being shamed for lacking ‘professionalism,’ inarticulate Malay speakers are
considered less Malaysian.
If
speaking English has become an indicator of professionalism, speaking the Malay
language signals one’s loyalty to Malaysia. In 2009, Rais Yatim (then Minister
of Information, Communication and Culture) sneered at a local journalist during
a press conference for prompting a question in English. Without intending to
address the question, he publicly shamed
the journalist for the choice of language: “Where were you educated,
you can’t speak bahasa at all?”
But be it
English or Malay, those annoyed by Zahid Hamidi’s English are fundamentally not
at odds with Rais Yatim. The premise is quite basic. Language shaming has more
to do with ego-boosting than anything else: I speak better Malay therefore I am
more authentically Malay/sian than you. I speak better English, therefore I am
more professional or intelligent than you. That one’s linguistic proficiency
can be used as an index to measure one’s loyalty towards their country, or, to
measure one’s professionalism and intelligence, is outrageous.
More
importantly, shaming others for the inability to speak the language of a
dominant culture only reflects one’s ignorance of the history of language.
Language shaming fails to recognise the implicit power of linguistic ideology
(those sets of beliefs and values surrounding any language). In the context of
Malaysia, both English and Malay are hegemonic languages. In their presence,
other languages are relegated to lower status to be discriminated against.
Those who do not partake in the dominant culture are immediately marginalised
and are placed in a condition where acquiring a second language becomes a
priority.
This
hierarchy systemically and structurally coerces many to only speak select
languages, while other languages and variant dialects are reduced to communal
use. Cultural and linguistic hegemonies are usually achieved through a history
of oppression. Every dominant language that we now speak is a result of past
violence.
English
became hegemonic after two world wars and a long history of imperialism.
But, the standard Malay language, as a nationalist medium of propaganda,
possesses sub-imperialist motivations too. One language dominates at the
expense of another. The official “standard Malay,” which is a Malay dialect of
the erstwhile Malaccan-Johor-Riau Empire, became “Bahasa Melayu” at the expense
of other Malay dialects such as Loghat Utara or Base Tranung.
It is the
same with Mandarin and its use in Malaysia. In the 1990s, Chinese national-type
schools in Malaysia had an informal policy to discourage students from speaking
any Chinese dialects other than the officially-sanctioned Mandarin. A
ridiculous fine of 20 cents per word was imposed on students caught speaking
Cantonese, Hakka, Hokkien, and other non-Mandarin dialects.
It is
important to recognise the sub-imperialist characters intrinsic to any language
of a dominant culture. Many grow amnesic towards this oppressive history of
language. Too often one is taught to take pride in one’s own language without
acknowledging its historic malice.
If those
who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it, it is essential to
constantly remind ourselves that shaming Faiz Subri, Zahid Hamidi, or any other
stammering tongues, is part of this legacy of oppression.
Tan Zi Hao is a postgraduate student in the
Department of Southeast Asian Studies, National University of Singapore. He is
also a conceptual artist whose artworks can be viewed at www.tanzihao.net.
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