IN modern Malaysia, mind your P's and Q's, dot your i's, but stay away from crossing your t's.
While nobody objects to
the first two - politeness and literacy being the mark of a developed
nation - some are wary of the letter "t" which they see as representing
the crucifix.
Because of this, religious teachers at one Petaling
Jaya school instructed students not to cross their "t's". In exceptional
circumstances, they were to slant the bar so that the letter would not
look like a cross.
As it turns out, "t" is not the only culprit out
to diminish Islam.
In Kedah earlier this year, a teacher
reportedly told a seminar that teaching English is haram.
Last
year, Universiti Teknologi Mara teachers complained that some students
resisted learning the language for the same reason.
Last week, NST
columnist Farish A. Noor wrote about the furore that erupted in the 1960s
when Education Minister Mohamed Khir Johari called for the move from Jawi
to the Roman script in schools, universities and government
departments.
The Islamist camp saw his policy as a betrayal of
Malay culture and Islam. Yet today, Utusan Melayu which is in Jawi, has a
daily circulation of less than 15,000 whereas Utusan Malaysia has a daily
circulation of 250,000.
Since the 1970s, religious revivalism has
given rise to overzealous defenders of the religion who are especially
sensitive to "signs" that the religion is under threat.
Professor
Ibrahim Bajunid, dean of the Faculty of Humanities and Social Sciences at
Universiti Tun Abdul Razak, says this kind of xenophobia inflicts many
people in varying degrees and causes them to see symbols, icons and
messages which they think will destroy their religion.
For example,
some years back local newspapers reported that the arrangement of neon
lights at a certain night market emitted anti-Islamic
messages.
"It's got to do with the peculiar obsession with rituals
and so-called religious purity, partly caused by the fear of being led
astray," says Professor Rahman Embong, senior fellow at the Institute of
Malaysian and International Studies (Ikmas) in Universiti Kebangsaan
Malaysia.
"This is the fallout from the dakwah movement of the
1970s.
"I suspect that in remote rural areas the problem is not so
much that English is haram, but that education as a whole is difficult. So
out of despair or frustration English becomes unimportant and eventually
forbidden."
In rural Sarawak, he says, getting to school is so
problematic that for many, education is not worth the trouble. Similarly,
if English is seen as irrelevant in some pondok schools up north, it
eventually becomes a nonentity.
In poorly-funded independent
religious schools, teachers are untrained in anything except basic
religious knowledge.
"When a student asks to be taught English, the
teacher, who does not have a good command of the language, would probably
prefer to tell the student that English is haram," says Fadzil Hanafi,
State executive councillor for religious affairs in Kedah.
"Such a
mindset stems from the teachers' own insecurities."
There are also
other detractors. According to some intellectuals, anti- neocolonialists
and Malay ultra-nationalists may employ religion to prevent the informed,
polished and widespread use of the English language.
One of the
most heated debates in the local literary scene centres on the fact that
those who write in English are not included in the body called Malaysian
literature.
To many, speaking and writing in good English smacks of
an arrogance akin to that of the colonial masters.
What is hardly
noticed is that those who vehemently oppose English are rarely proficient
in it themselves.
At the official frontline, however, the
importance of English is acknowledged.
There were some ulama in
Kelantan who disapproved of English, to the extent of branding it haram,
says Kelantan deputy mufti Datuk Mohamad Shukri Mohamad.
However,
he said, it happened a long time ago when the country was under British
colonial rule.
"There was quite a strong resistance then by some
ulama because they were afraid that Malays who studied the language will
become traitors and conspire with the colonialists," he said.
But
many others including Kelantan's well-known ulama Tok Kenali chose to
ignore them, and continue to study and use the language despite the
opposition.
Mohamad Shukri, a graduate in Syariah and Islamic Law
from Al-Azhar University, said Tok Kenali was also instrumental in pushing
for an English stream to be introduced in schools under the Kelantan
Islamic Council in 1915.
The deputy mufti said Tok Kenali and those
who shared his opinion held steadfast to a hadith by the
Prophet:
"Those who learn the language of a race are free from
their tricks and treachery."
Mohamad Shukri himself subscribes to
an English newspaper to encourage his children's use of the
language.
"I didn't have the opportunity to really learn the
language before but I want my children to have the advantage of mastering
it."
Many of the independent religious schools referred to by
Fadzil are linked to Pas, among them the "Pasti" kindergartens which the
party operates and funds.
Its Youth chief Mahfuz Omar says that any
allegation that the party preaches a narrow worldview among its followers,
which includes the forbidding of English, is false.
Mahfuz
maintains that the party adopts a modernist view towards the acquisition
of worldly knowledge, a claim that many will dispute in the heady
political battles raging between Pas and Umno, the two main political
parties of the Malays.
A retired headmaster and education officer
Abdul Rahman Rahim says that there wasn't a problem of English being
considered haram when he was a student in the 1950s.
But the
problem now could be that some Malays feel the flood of English bombarding
them in the media is threatening their identity.
"Some equate
English with Western culture," he says.
Abdul Rahman says that
when people see shows like Baywatch they become suspicious of Western
culture as a whole, the English language included.
But hostility
towards the language is only one tangible arm of a far bigger
phenomenon.
"All this is an attempt to regulate the thoughts and
language used by the community," says Ibrahim.
"Some years ago,
non-Muslims were prevented from saying assalamualaikum, but there is
nothing Islamic or un-Islamic about this. In the Middle-East, non-Muslim
Arabs use the same salutation. In the same way, Muslims who say selamat
pagi instead of assalamu-alaikum were branded kafir.
"The open
house is actually not a Muslim practice, and the fact that so many are
doing it has made some Muslims unhappy. They may not discourage it openly,
but will indirectly try to prevent interaction between Muslims and
non-Muslims."
The same individuals would probably be unhappy that
at some Malay weddings these days, the prayers are uttered in three
languages: Arabic, Bahasa Malaysia and English.
Some even feel that
it is contrary to the religion to attend the funerals of non-Muslims and
to greet them with the compliments of the season.
"The practice of
Islam here is so literal and legalistic. There is no love, no empathy,
which is unfortunate," says Ibrahim.
"The only way to combat the
growing attempts to police religious practices is to acquire more
knowledge than they. When you look at the world through different
languages, you widen your mental horizon."
"My acquisition of the
English language allows me to step out of the Malay `box' and to look at
my community through a different language. This has made me appreciate my
roots much, much more.
"If English is indeed haram - how would you
explain the increasing use of the language to spread the word? There is
now more on Islam written in English than in Malay, because of the Western
research tradition."
If the situation goes unchecked, the only
losers will be Malaysians. And as the world flourishes, we will spend our
future in the dark, in the company of imagined
demons.
news@nstp.com.my