A mind enslaved
"Emancipate yourself from mental slavery - none but ourselves can free our minds." - Bob Marley.
Two weeks ago, I was invited by the Oriental Daily News to give a talk on the tale of two cities - Singapore and Johor Baru (JB) that is - along with a Singaporean panelist. The event was held in Foon Yew High School in JB, my alma mater, and graced by the special appearance of Tang Liang Hong , the political dissident who crossed swords with Lee Kuan Yew and fled to JB, forcing the latter to forego all his diplomatic niceties by branding JB a city "notorious for shooting, mugging and car-jacking" way back in 1997 (no politics on campus! Nab the troublemakers!).
Raised near the southern gateway of Malaysia, I can empathize with the Chinese in Johor in regard to their profound ambivalence towards the island state. We all grew up watching Singapore TV, and many of us learned to hum Majulah Singapura joyously before we were taught to sing Negaraku in solemnity.
Being the closest First World country to Malaysia, many Johoreans naturally benchmark their daily life against what they see on Singapore TV: from the highly efficient MRT and superb bus connection to the bizarre mania over Hello Kitty toys few years ago, and often watch with simmering jealousy the political and economic clouts of Chinese Singaporeans. Ah! The unpatriotic and ungrateful lot.
In short, as far as the Chinese in the south are concerned, there is virtually no escaping from the omnipresent Singapore.
Two weeks ago, I was invited by the Oriental Daily News to give a talk on the tale of two cities - Singapore and Johor Baru (JB) that is - along with a Singaporean panelist. The event was held in Foon Yew High School in JB, my alma mater, and graced by the special appearance of Tang Liang Hong, the political dissident who crossed swords with Lee Kuan Yew and fled to JB, forcing the latter to forego all his diplomatic niceties by branding JB a city "notorious for shooting, mugging and car-jacking" way back in 1997 (no politics on campus! Nab the troublemakers!).
Raised near the southern gateway of Malaysia, I can empathize with the Chinese in Johor in regard to their profound ambivalence towards the island state. We all grew up watching Singapore TV, and many of us learned to hum Majulah Singapura joyously before we were taught to sing Negaraku in solemnity.
Being the closest First World country to Malaysia, many Johoreans naturally benchmark their daily life against what they see on Singapore TV: from the highly efficient MRT and superb bus connection to the bizarre mania over Hello Kitty toys few years ago, and often watch with simmering jealousy the political and economic clouts of Chinese Singaporeans. Ah! The unpatriotic and ungrateful lot.
In short, as far as the Chinese in the south are concerned, there is virtually no escaping from the omnipresent Singapore.
Still in doubt? Be an early bird and come to the JB immigration checkpoints to witness the droves of students, both primary, secondary and perhaps some tertiary, waiting to cross the causeway for their daily "overseas" schooling. In the mind of many a Chinese parent, an availability of quality Singapore education is akin to a passport to future success - at minimal costs.
'Overseas' education
The magic spell of the "pesky neighbour" - in the words of M Bakri Musa, my fellow malaysiakini columnist - is certainly not lost on some Chinese educationists in JB. Recently, Foon Yew High School, the largest Chinese-medium secondary school outside China and Taiwan and long regarded as the bastion of Chinese education in southern peninsula, has decided to use English-language teaching materials for mathematics in Group A (read: elite) junior middle classes come next school year, although the school authority maintains that all mathematics lessons will still be taught in Mandarin.
One of the reasons given is that since a significant number of Foon Yew graduates will go on to pursue their higher education in Singapore, it is only logical that a switch to English-language textbooks for science and mathematics be introduced sooner rather than later.
That sounds nice. But Foon Yew is no ordinary school. With a student population of 7,000, it is the largest Chinese independent school in Malaysia, and its survival and success over the last few decades could not have been possible without the pertinacious support of the Chinese community. One would have expected the school's Board of Directors to have the courtesy to at least consult the taxi drivers and the hawkers who often fundraise for the school, which has not quite been the case.
It is indeed amusing that, for a large part of the Chinese Malaysian community, the island state of Singapore is an umbilical code that is hard to severe, despite that it will have been four decades this time next year since our two countries last celebrated a common national day together.
Singapore is a postcolonial society par excellence. Many in Malaysia are disdainful of the city-state's pseudo-western culture that the world over has come to know, yet given a chance, even the staunchest defender of Chinese culture may be tempted to send his or her young ones to be educated there. Its ruling elites, enchanted by the divining power of the English language, are no doubt having the last laughs.
The argument that a switch to English would facilitate better connection for those who wish to further their education in Singapore, mostly pursuing science courses, simply cannot hold water.
Throughout my stay in Britain, I saw a good number of Indonesians, mainland Chinese, Taiwanese, Japanese, Koreans as well as European nationals excelling themselves in their academic pursuit, having studied diligently science and mathematics using their native languages in their countries of origin.
Also, once the exception for science and mathematics is made, would Foon Yew one day decide to teach other subjects, such as history and geography, in English merely because Singapore universities were happy to offer more arts courses to Malaysian students? A Foon Yew alumni myself, learning history and geography, my two most favorite subjects, in Chinese did not in any way hinder my progress in pursuing my social science degrees in England. There must be a bottom line in safeguarding vernacular education, without which a feeble mind will constantly be on a lookout for an excuse to compromise.
Language switch
Foon Yew also stands out in that it was the first Chinese secondary school to refuse to convert itself into an English-medium school in order to receive government subsidies in the turbulent 1950s. With the decision of the school authority to resort to English for science and mathematics almost five decades later, the unflinching spirit of the generations past now seems to have spent itself.
Moreover, that the news of the language switch was played down both by the school itself as well as the Chinese press does indeed smack of political interference. Some have expressed their worry that the decision may have been a product of both academic and political considerations, that an example set by the most "prestigious" Chinese independent school could bode well for the BN-initiated, MCA-propagated move to upgrade the use of English in science and mathematics in national schools.
Thus, it is not at all surprising that much of the mainstream Chinese press has eschewed any critical analysis on the issue, its elaborate charade to champion Chinese cultural rights notwithstanding.
And how should one explain the pathetic silence of the Chinese community on this issue? Well, there could be two reasons for it. One, as mentioned earlier, there may be a conscious effort on the part of the Chinese press to not highlight the issue, as evidenced in the lack of public debate in newspapers, while the response of the school to some critics has been wishy-washy at best.
The second, which in my mind is perhaps more worrying, reason is the subtle change of the communal physic of the Chinese in Malaysia. With the advent of globalization and borderless trade comes the misguided belief that English is a panacea for all, a mastery of which will invariably make one's upward social mobility way easier.
Frantz Fanon, a celebrated postcolonialist, writes in his highly acclaimed book 'Black Skin, White Masks' that "if there is an inferiority complex, it is the outcome of a double process: primarily, economic; subsequently, the internalization - or, better, the epidermalization - of this inferiority". I would say this internalized inferiority complex has long informed the Chinese in Malaysia too.
The Singapore and the Malaysian governments, for all their pretense to be holding different values from the Europeans, are in fact perpetuating the myth of the English language among their respective populaces, and the superstitious faith in acquiring western technology through English has crept into the mind of the Chinese Malaysian community over the years.
Paltry response
As a result, using one's own native tongue, be it Malay, Chinese or else, to study science and mathematics is seen as unrealistic, ineffective and time-consuming.
This explains to a considerable extent why the opposition to the language switch is met with paltry response from the Chinese community. Many perhaps regard the move by the government as smart and long overdue in the face of the reality.
But the reality is what one perceives it to be and, in Malaysia, is the immediate result of the collaboration between the ruling classes and the educational elites.
As Ashis Nandy, another great post-colonialist of Indian origin, famously proclaims, colonialism minus a civilizational mission is no colonialism at all. Since the British departure from Malaysian soil, the "native" government has been entrenching its political hegemony in the name of a grand vision, and very much a technological one at that, to make up for the loss of a "civilizational mission". Hence, a strong command of English in science and mathematics is deemed essential even by some who champion the right to mother-tongue education.
And wasn't it Carter G Woodson, a renowned African-American historian, who said that one need not worry about controlling a man, for one only has to control how he thinks? Nothing is more apt than these insightful words of his in the context of Malaysia.
Can Foon Yew continue to clandestinely transform itself into an English-oriented school with the financial contribution of the Chinese community, while dressed up in the garb of Chinese education?
Well, it maybe able to do just that with the help of a docile Chinese media and the relentless maneuver of the politicians, and the move may be hailed a resounding success in no time, thanks to the silent consent of the Chinese community.

