For many Sabahans and Sarawakians, Independence Day should be Sept 16, 1963.

That this historical fact has been almost obliterated from the collective memory of the nation is evident. During the recent deluge of commentaries on the current Merdeka celebration, almost all writers referred to our "46th Merdeka celebration".

Although this is the official nomenclature for the event according to our national narrative, the description hardly fits the lived experience of over four million Malaysians an ocean away from Kuala Lumpur.

Usually, when a description does not fit a fact that it tries to describe, you call it a lie.

Unfortunately, the very concept of a nation is a myth, which in itself seeks legitimacy in other collateral or subsidiary myths, like the idea of an Independence Day. While we have yet to understand fully why and how human beings use myths to give meaning to their lives, a myth is strictly speaking not a lie.

The discord between the national myth of independence and the lived lives of Sabahans and Sarawakians is merely indicative of one of the many discrepancies in our nationhood. This political difference belies the difficulties of forging a single demos out of a diverse population with such varied geopolitical, cultural and historical backgrounds, in an attempt to create another national myth.

It is all too easy to point the finger at British colonialist imperialism for all our political ills, as if that would solve our problems. Perhaps we should adopt a more fruitful approach, to reflect on our common experience through 40 years of our shared history of self-determination, and try to derive some tentative conclusions on how the future should be like.

The past certainly has not been encouraging. Beneath the veneer of harmony and unity, the undercurrents of alienation and resentment continue to haunt the imagined relationship between the people of the two chunks of land separated by the South China Sea.

Special privileges

A notable issue is the requirement for a passport or an entry permit for people originating from the Peninsula to enter Sabah or Sarawak. Likewise, a lawyer called to the Malayan Bar cannot practice in Sabah and Sarawak without prior approval from the High Court of Borneo.

For these unhappy travellers, the immigration autonomy and unique jurisdiction given to the Borneo courts make them feel like travelling to another country. It simply does not make sense.

A common reaction is to call for the immediate abolition of these special rights and privileges accorded to those two East Malaysian states.

What people do not realise is that, the special rights and privileges of the states of Sabah and Sarawak on immigration, judicial and labour issues are enshrined in the federal constitution. Any move to repeal them in the Parliament may lead to an unnecessary constitutional crisis, and would weaken the Barisan Nasional (BN) hold on state power in these two states.

With Sabah and Sarawak contributing to about 25% of the number of seats in the Dewan Rakyat, and with the federal BN heavily dependent on them for their two-third majority in Parliament, no prime minister would be so insane as to alienate the people of Sabah and Sarawak by destroying the spirit of federalism upon which the nation of Malaysia was founded in 1963.

More importantly, to understand how those special state rights came into existence as part of our Malaysian social contract, is to excavate and rediscover the other Malaysian history, the story of the 12-point agreement reached in the midst of chaos and turmoil in 1963 by the component units of the then yet to be formed Federation of Malaysia.

Historical ignorance

Unfortunately, in our one-dimensional Malaysian worldview, history has always been our weakest subject. Most people seem to have neither the curiosity nor the capacity to relive historical memories of our common past.

Part of this historical ignorance can be attributed to the construction of the Malay nationalist myth by Umno, the logic of which must by ideological necessity anchor the official narrative of Malaysian Independence on the events of 1957.

This official myth has become historical truth for almost all Malaysians, except those living in Sabah and Sarawak. Four decades of sophisticated social engineering have ensured that the meaning of those events around 1963 be exiled to oblivion.

Just like the great racial divide, the regional polarisation between East and West Malaysia lies dormant, truncating our Malaysian soul - if such a Malaysian soul exists at all.

The national media contributes and entrenches this regional polarisation, propagating the national myth as truth, and marginalising voices from Sabah and Sarawak to the realm of far-flung primitive outback, about which nothing much need to be learnt and known. It seems as if the only time Sabah and Sarawak appear on TV is during the weather report. (Who cares whether it rains or shines in Kuching and Kota Kinabalu anyway?)

In a reverse twist of historical logic, Sabahans and Sarawakians create their own respective imagined communities, through the establishment of their local press and radio stations. There seem to be more indigenous English and Chinese newspapers being circulated in these two states than those in Peninsular Malaysia.. The Sabah Times, the Sarawak Tribune, the Seehua Daily may have minute circulations compared to the Star and the New Straits Times, but they survive nevertheless, on the need of the local communities for a common space to narrate their own stories.

KL seems so far away

Here, on these local platforms, the local dramas play themselves out, crimes and disasters, marriages and deaths, social and religious happenings, and political upheavals. The headlines carried by our national press are often castigated to inside pages, for Sabahans and Sarawakians have their own favourite headlines. Minor stories from the "West" are denigrated to obscure corners, or not covered at all.

Reading these local papers in Sarawak and Sabah, you can feel the vibes of the thriving local community life there, while KL and the rest of Malaysia seem so far away and irrelevant.

It is not surprising therefore, that politics in these two states gravitates towards state matters, rather than national issues affecting the power centre in Kuala Lumpur. There, a different form of political life has evolved, involving local personalities and home-grown political parties, and engaging in local issues that are steeped in the respective histories of these states.

Mainstream parties like Umno, MCA, MIC, Gerakan, PAS, DAP and Keadilan are invariably described by the local press in Sabah and Sarawak as "West Malaysian-based" parties. They are looked upon as outsiders, and with the possible exception of the DAP their acceptance by the voters in Sabah and Sarawak is still in doubt.

(Umno Sabah is such a strange creature of Sabahan history, that they can only be seen as the ghost of a limb of Umno, rather than an integral part of the national Umno structure.)

Untouched yet by the rapid urbanisation and industrialisation that has swept the entire Malaya Peninsula, Sabahans and Sarawakians of all races tend to retain much of their rustic charm and convivial hospitality. Despite the cancer of racism that has eaten into the body politics of Malaysia, race relations in these two eastern states are truly exemplary.

In their odd contacts with the small trickle of visitors from West Malaysia, most of them cannot help but feel a fundamental difference, in the manner of speech and demeanour, values, and approach to personal relationship and business.

Celebrate our differences

The encounters have not always been pleasant. Presently, the term "Orang Malaya" has been coined for all those Malaysians who have come from outside their states, and the label carries connotations which are not entirely complimentary. In fact, the same East-West discomfort exists between members of the same ethnic groups, among the Malays and the Chinese.

In a truly pluralist democracy, difference is to be celebrated. The diversity in our collective cultural gene pool ought to add strength and depth to our national character.

Unfortunately, in our four decades of experimentation with federalism, the scale of power has always tended to tip towards the power centre in Kuala Lumpur.

Over the long years, the socio-economic disparity and the political alienation between East and West Malaysia have developed to such an extent, that some Sabahans and Sarawakians can describe the relationship between the federal and state governments as a form of post-colonial colonialism.

And yet, with their huge land mass, their rich natural resources and their sturdy and earthy people, these two states are crucial to the national interest of Malaysia. Above all, they contribute to one quarter of the number of seats in the Dewan Rakyat. They could tip the delicate balance of power in the country, if and when Malaysia goes through the painful process of metamorphosis, when a realignment of political forces threatens to tear asunder the old political order erected upon the divide-and-rule tactic.

Perhaps then, Sept 16 will assume a different meaning.