In a recent article, I inadvertently confessed that independence for me has had only a short history of 44 years, not 50 years as touted by the national narrative.

A reader by the name of Uncle Yap wrote a letter to Malaysiakini, giving a long argument on why I might be wrong. Fortunately, a few other readers presumably from Sarawak came to my rescue, pointing out how in 1963, Sarawak formed, and not joined Malaysia, on an equal footing with Sabah, Singapore, and the Federation of Malaya.

The matter was somehow brought up in the gossipy chat portal Sarawak Talk, and found its way into the Sarawak newspaper, the Borneo Post. Sarawak's first deputy chief minister and a participant to the process in 1963, James Wong Kim Min, was interviewed, and he gave the testimony that indeed Sarawak helped to form Malaysia, and it was not a matter of joining an existing federation.

Nevertheless, I doubt very much that James Wong, or any like-minded Sarawakian for that matter, can convince Uncle Yap and most of the "Orang Malaya" like him, that Malaysia is only 44 years old on September 16, 2007, instead of being 50 years of age. This seems to be the only point in which most Sarawakians of all races will disagree with one voice with most West Malaysians of all races, speaking again in one voice.

I wonder whether the ripple of debate will appear in another 50 years' time. What is more probable is that the national narrative 50 years from now will remain even more entrenched.

A 15-year-old then

In the "national media" (read "Kuala Lumpur media"), when celebrating the disputed 100th Independence anniversary of Malaysia, the official history will relate again for the 100th time how the Federation of Malaya, which achieved independence in 1957, evolved into Malaysia with the "admission" of Singapore, Sabah, and Sarawak. Luckily for me, I will be long dead.

I did live through that part of the nation's history. I was 15, a scrappy young dog studying grammar, parts of speech, and the quaint voices and moods of the English language in St Joseph's English-medium Secondary School run by the La Salle Brothers in Kuching.

I was more fortunate than all the 15-year olds today. Why, in my Form 3 history class, we even had to learn about the Glorious English Revolution, and how the Doctrine of Separation of Powers evolved in England in those long-forgotten days.

In contemporary Malaysia, few students would have to study world history. In that way, they would know less about the outside world and the evolution of democracy, and so be easier to rule!

Those were the bad old days, a time of grave material depravity. Only the few very affluent people in Kuching owned a car. I still had to walk to school everyday, like many of my classmates.

Irrespective of our ethnic origins, we were great friends and playmates. Many of my school mates are now prominent figures in politics, commerce and the professions, and we remain good friends today, despite our political and ethnic differences.

I lived through the armed insurgency launched by the Sarawak Communist Party, the formation of the left-leaning Sarawak United People's Party in 1959, the curfew, the skirmishes between the police and the "terrorists", and the massive arrests of the Supp cadres and their detention at the camp at 6th Mile in Kuching. More than a few of those detained were my former teachers in Chinese primary schools, and childhood friends.

Opposition from Sarawak

I lived through those turbulent times. Southeast Asia was in turmoil. The Cold War was at its height. New political parties were being formed in Sarawak. The British were in retreat from their colonies everywhere in the world.

Looking back, they would of course manoeuvre their so-called honourable retreat by ensuring that their former colonies in this part of the world would not be independent in the interest of the world communist conspiracy. Malaya, Singapore, Sarawak, Brunei, and the North Borneo Territory (as Sabah was known then), were mere chess pieces on the British worldwide geo-political chessboard.

In 1961, when Tunku Abdul Rahman declared his proposal for a new federation of Malaysia comprising the above five territories, everybody in the affected former British colonies were greatly excited and confused.

There was much opposition to the proposal from Sarawak. Some Malay community leaders regarded the Brits as having betrayed their pledge of returning Sarawak to Sarawakians, a pledge made when they acquired Sarawak in 1946 after WW2 from the last Brooke Rajah for a million pounds sterling. Native leaders had reservation about their special status in the new federation and the security of their customary land tenure.

Supp people were the most vocal opponent of the Malaysia proposal. They were easily the most powerful party in the state at that time, despite great oppression from the colonial powers. Even at that young age, I attended their fiery public rallies. I especially remember the speeches of Mr Chan Siaw Hee, the then Supp publicity chief, breathing his socialist brimstones and hell-fire at the Song Kheng Hai football field in my Padungan neighbourhood.

The Supp slogan in those years before independence was "Anti-colonialism, anti-imperialism, and anti-Malaysia". It was apparently a popular slogan among my neighbours. It was abandoned when the Supp joined the ruling coalition of the Sarawak Alliance in 1970, after the May 13 business.

The adults were discussing these unfolding dramas in whispers when terror struck. One morning, we woke up to the news that a police station in Tebedu, a border town a few hours' drive from Kuching, was attacked by Indonesians forces. Indonesia under President Sukarno had laid claim to Sarawak, and the violent Konfrontasi had been launched in earnest. At about the same time, The Philippines also claimed the chunk of real estate now known as Sabah.

Then, shortly before the target date of August 31 1963, a Brunei nationalist named Azahari (supposedly patronised by the Indonesian government) launched an armed revolution against the Sultan of Brunei. They even spilled over the border and took over the Sarawak town of Limbang (the power base of James Wong) for a while.

The sky over Sarawak was overcast with the dark clouds of terror. Sitting in my classroom at Rock Road, I saw daily helicopters hovering over the ground at the Sarawak police headquarters next door, landing troops and equipment. The town was crawling with British and Ghurkha soldiers.

Looking back, the Azahari revolt must have been the crucial event that convinced many Sarawak leaders that joining (or forming) Malaysia was the better option. Seeking independence alone, or forming a new independent entity with Brunei and Sabah would pose the problem of how to defend territorial integrity in the explosive cockpit that was Southeast Asia.

The Cobbolt Commission had come to seek the views of Sarawakians and had gone on to give their favourable Inter-Governmental Report. In the face of territorial claim by neighbouring countries, the matter was referred to the UN, which also sent a fact finding mission to Sarawak and Sabah. A general state-wide referendum would have had more legitimacy. I know for a fact that I, or my parents, or all people in my Kuching neighbourhood were not consulted.

We were free, but from what?

The Sultan of Brunei had wisely opted out of inclusion in the new federation. Today, he is the richest man in the world, and Brunei citizens enjoyed such wealth as Sarawakians and Sabahans can only dream of. This is worth telling, since West Malaysians know even less about Brunei than Sarawak and Sabah.

By 31st August 1963, the UN fact finding mission had not finished their task of finding facts about whether the people of Sarawak and Sabah wanted to join Malaysia. The Tunku was in a great hurry, so he had that big do in KL declaring the birth of a new nation anyway.

The UN report was soon tabled, proclaiming that the people of Sarawak and Sabah did indeed want to join Malaysia. So these two states officially enjoyed their independence on 16th September 1963.

Forty four years ago, on the evening of September, in the company of a small band of equally scrappy boys, I walked downtown from my house in the KMC Flat at Jalan Ban Hock, quite late at night.

The streets were deserted save for a few wild dogs. We parked ourselves at the park in front of the court house, and sat in the small pavilion near the famous clock tower. When the clock announced mid-night, the Union Jack was lowered for the last time in the nearby riverside fort, and the Malaysian flag was raised for the first time.

Then we walked home listlessly, along the deserted streets, past the sleeping wild dogs, while the first Sarawak Chief Minister Stephen Kalong Ningkan made a suitable speech from Kuala Lumpur on the radio. There was no fanfare, no huge rally, and no ostentatious celebration. We were free, but from what?

Nobody told us about this mythical "social contract" that was to change my life and the fate of the nation forever.