It is Merdeka season again, time yet for another orgy of portentous patriotism.

The government propaganda machinery must be throbbing again with yet another explosive campaign to manufacture a ubiquitous display of patriotic love for this Land of the Free, Paradise On Earth, Homeland of the Great Warriors etc.

So the imagined space of our citizenry must now be flooded with the images of Tunku Abdul Rahman raising his right arm and shouting "Merdeka" three times to the deafening cheers of the enthralled masses in our National Stadium in 1957. Or was it 1963?

Pardon me for getting confused about the date of our independence.

I, like other citizens from my generation, did live through those days of uncertainties and turmoil before and after Merdeka. .

It was on the stroke of twelve past the midnight of Sept 15, 1963 that I - with a few other young scrappy boys in Kuching - witnessed the lowering of the Union Jack for the last time, and the debut appearance of the then unfamiliar Malaysian flag in its place, at the Pangkalan Kota in front of the Clock Tower beside the placid Sarawak River.

The streets were deserted; most people preferred to stay home, glued to the radio (yes, we did manage to live without the idiot box happily) and listening to the first Chief Minister of Sarawak, Stephen Kalong Ningkan (an Iban CM!), declaring that we had become independent from British colonial rule through the formation of Malaysia.

Stirring of emotions

We walked home that night. (In those materially deprived times, you walked or cycled to get from point A to point B, without harbouring any dream that you might own a car or a motorbike someday.) I remember the stirring of emotions on which I could not put my finger. They were not entirely celebratory.

Those were indeed hard times. The big towkays were very few in number, and the middle-class did not exist. The only luxury item in our poor household was the delightful radio. Like a window to the outside world, the humble radio introduced me to the wonderful universe of the BBC.

Thanks to the absence of television and computer games, I learned early to read profusely, take part in sports, play chess, and enjoy the simple pleasures of life. Since everybody I knew was poor, you did not feel the stigma of being deprived. At least, we still had our schooling. My late dear mother used to harangue me day and night, to study hard, to make something of myself, and to be a good person. Learning became a vocation.

So the personal hardship was not that much of a problem. But the world was a confusing place to live in. In the early 60s, caught in the throes of the Cold War, the entire Southeast Asia was in turmoil.

Indochina had become the cockpit for the two ideological belligerents to pitch their military and political will against each other. In neighbouring countries, newly emergent regimes were all corrupt and despotic, with armed insurgencies - fuelled by the conspiracy of universal communist revolution or otherwise - brewing among the confused and impoverished populations.

Great Malaysian Proposal

Malaya had achieved independence in 1957. There was much unrest in the country, as the new polity wrestled with the twin tasks of fighting the underground Communist Party of Malaya and building the social and political institutions amidst the discord of a multiracial nation.

In 1961, the Malayan Prime Minister Tunku Abdul Rahman presented his Great Malaysian Proposal at the Foreign Correspondents Club in Singapore. The new Federation of Malaysia was to be a union of Malaya, Singapore, Brunei, Sarawak, and the North Borneo Territory, which has since been renamed Sabah.

The inner circle of Umno then, must have sought the union with the three territories in the northern strip of Borneo island for reasons of politics of race. The Malays constituted slightly more than half of the population on the Malayan Peninsula then. Perhaps, it was perceived, that with the inclusion of the mostly native populations in North Borneo within the new Malaysian Federation, Umno's political hand would be enhanced, especially in dealing with the one million or so Chinese in Singapore.

The Tunku had the full backing of the British Colonial Office, because the Malaysian Project offered an "honourable" exit for the British government from these waters, while creating a scenario that would ensure their continuing maritime, military and other interests in the region against the backdrop of the Cold War.

For his own reasons, Lee Kuan Yew of Singapore also supported the Malaysian Proposal, and came to Sarawak to persuade the Chinese communities there that it would be indeed a good thing for Sarawakians to achieve independence through the formation of Malaysia. I think the fact that the Chinese formed over 30 percent of the populations of Sarawak and Sabah must have been a catalyst for Lee's enthusiasm for the Project. When he took Singapore out of Malaysia in 1965, many Chinese in Sarawak and Sabah were not pleased.

Given the rich natural resources both on land and at sea, and the strategic importance of these territories in geo-political terms, the Malaysian Proposal must have been akin to a huge boulder plunged into the treacherous waters of international relations, sending tidal ripples to the surrounding shores.

Philippines and Indonesia

The Philippines immediately laid territorial claims over Sabah, based on some tenuous obsolete historical linkage. This issue has never been resolved amiably, and has become a perennial stumbling block in the path towards warmer relation between Manila and Kuala Lumpur right up to this day.

Looking back to the past four decades of chaos that have visited upon the unfortunate people of the Philippines, it is just as well for the people of Sabah that they have chosen to be part of Malaysia. The prospect of being flooded by alien unruly Filipinos of all shades has also guaranteed the loyalty of Sabahans towards Malaysia, and has helped the power centre in Kuala Lumpur in exerting control over this far flung and vast territory.

In the case of Indonesia, their vociferous objection to the Malaysian Proposal was probably rooted in domestic politics.

Despite his charisma and great oratorical prowess, Sukarno was having problem at home with both the restive military and a splintered population that was torn by ethnic, religious and ideological strife. By making territorial claims on the Borneon state of Sarawak, Sukarno perhaps hoped to divert attention at home outwards, and whip up another frenzy of patriotism which would ensure his hold on power.

The situation was complicated beyond measure by the reluctance of many people in Sarawak and Sabah who were not agreeable to the idea of merging with two advanced and more developed neighbours from across the ocean.

Political awakening came to Sarawak in the 50s, especially with the formation of the first political party in 1959, the Sarawak United People's Party (SUPP). Other parties soon mushroomed.

Best mobilised party

The SUPP had been infiltrated by the Sarawak Communist Party, which also agitated for the formation of a united front, linking trade unions, farmers' organisations, and other civil groupings. In this way, the SUPP was the most broadly based and best mobilised party in Sarawak then.

The SUPP was vehemently opposed to the Malaysian Proposal, calling it a conspiracy of British colonialist imperialism. As a boy in my mid-teens, I attended many of their public rallies, in which tens of thousands of people were roused to great heights of new found political enthusiasm by fiery speakers from the party. Later on, the usually sedate ambience of Kuching was beset with waves of strikes, demonstrations and signature campaigns on a massive scale.

Much later, I learnt that some members of the political elites were discussing the possibility of achieving independence from the British through a kind of union between Sarawak, Brunei, and Sabah.

The Cobbold Commission was sent by the British government to assess the opinions of the people in Sarawak. Their findings were quite predictable: most Sarawakians would prefer to join Malaysia, as long as there were constitutional safeguards to protect the interests of the people there, especially on matters of immigration, employment, and land rights.

In retrospect, I think the Azahari uprising in Brunei in 1962 was the watershed in the run-up towards Merdeka. The rebels intended to dethrone the Sultan of Brunei, but they also took over the border town of Limbang in Sarawak for a few days, before they were put down by an efficient movement of British troops.

New politics

We greeted the news with shock and disbelief. This new experience we called politics was no longer a game of puffing hot air and shouting slogans. It was a deadly ugly business, involving big men with big guns and the threat of bloodshed.

It was around this time that the Sarawak Communist Party also decided to launch their armed revolution. A state of emergency was declared. Curfews became a way of life. There were constant reports of exchange of fire between the terrorists and the security forces. Friends or relatives of friends disappeared into the jungle, some never to return.

There were also massive arrests of SUPP leaders and members, in the name of combating communist terrorism, under all kinds of emergency legislations. Although the party put up a brave front, appealing to human rights and democratic principles, it was clear that in one fell swoop, the colonial government had badly crippled the anti-Malaysia movement.

A regime of terror ensued, and a culture of silence reigned over my neighbourhood.

For many weary and undecided Sarawakians, the last straw on the back of the camel probably came from the Indonesian Konfrontasi. When Indonesian forces actually attacked a police station at the border town of Tebedu - practically right at the doorstep of Kuching - followed by constant raids across the mountainous border, the unpalatable truth must have dawned on many suddenly, that they could well be under the dominion of this dictatorial crackpot in Jakarta, if they were not careful.

In a state of siege

Kuching had the air of a war zone. Foreign soldiers were everywhere, the pink British as boisterous as the stout Ghurkhas were dignified. Our lessons in class, in St Joseph's Secondary School, were constantly accompanied by the sputtering of helicopters overhead, landing more military hardware and personnel at the police headquarters next door.

I am recalling those events from memory, so the dates and names have become hazy. However, the traumatic constrictive fear of living under s state of siege during this period, the prevailing ethos of anxiety, helplessness and resignation, the painful confusion that gripped the hearts of men and women, are all as vivid as the lingering though broken sensations of a nightmare I had last night.

As the proposed dateline of Aug 31, 1963 neared, Brunei chose to opt out of the Malaysian Project - for good reasons. Obviously, the former Sultan of Brunei had second thoughts about losing his absolute jurisdiction over oil and gas in that small sultanate. It turned out to be a wise decision for Brunei.

Looking at the row between the federal government and the Terengganu government over the payment of oil royalty to the state today, the present Sultan of Brunei may not be the richest man on earth today if his late father had not chosen for Brunei to become independent outside of Malaysia.

Eventually, the contentious issue of territorial claims over Sabah and Sarawak by the Philippines and Indonesia respectively, was referred to the fledgling United Nations, as was usual for historical turns of events of this sort. To settle the issue once and for all, the UN sent a fact finding mission to Sabah and Sarawak, to determine whether the people of these two territories did indeed prefer to stay with Malaysia.

I suppose the UN mission was decided upon in deference to the laudable principle of a people's right to self-determination. But given the short time frame and the doubtful methodology of the fact-finding exercise, the UN mission was probably a mere face-saving formality for all parties concerned.

Yes, I love my country

The task of the fact-finding mission was still incomplete on Aug 31, 1963, but the Tunku went ahead anyway, declaring the birth of a new Malaysian nation in Stadium Negara on that date - with Singapore but leaving out Sarawak and Sabah in the meantime, pending the outcome of the UN findings.

With uncharacteristic speed, the UN mission did report their findings within the short span of two weeks, to the effect that the majority of the people in Sabah and Sarawak had indicated their desire to achieve independence through Malaysia. It paved the way for that fateful morning on Sept 16, 1963 when I witnessed the raising of the Malaysian flag in Kuching, with mixed feelings of expectation and apprehension.

The same mixed feelings of expectation and apprehension revisit me upon Merdeka Day every year. Today, there may be no actual warfare. The plot has changed slightly. But there are only different actors playing the same roles on this stage of our national history. My personal misgivings about the exact date of Merdeka are merely symptomatic of my deep-seated disaffection with an official national narrative that has grown increasingly inane and coercive.

Today, the omnipresent Merdeka hysteria exhorts me to love my country. I suppose I should, even though someone (was it Oscar Wilde?) said that patriotism is the last refuge of the scoundrel.

At the same time, just for the sake of sobriety, I should also keep reminding myself that for whatever kind of love, the object of love must be loveable and beautiful.

Happy Merdeka Day.