Wednesday, 25 September 2013

Why these intermediaries?

For Protection? The Monolith!
Conversations in a trip through the journey of life....

HL: You know, I have had it up to here with the chief priest of temple. I have religiously been going to this temple for God knows how long but when I need help, the chief priest gives me the run around. Sometimes, I think he only serves the rich and famous, not a poor nobody like me!
FG: Why don't you ask his assistant to help you?
HL: His assistant rather has his boss do the consultation for fear of hurting him.
FG: What kind of out-of-this-world help that you are seeking that only the chief of chieftains can help?
HL: No, just wanted him to help me with my astronomical stars and charts so that I can do the necessary prayers!
FG: For what?
HL: Huh? So that I can do a proper prayer for blessing.
FG: For what?
HL: Huh?
The Gods sent this?
FG: Do you believe in God? Do you believe that He is omnipotent, omnipresent and omniscient? If you do, then you must realise that you do not need to tell Him anything. Least of all, you do not intermediaries to tell Him your problems because He knows. He knows what you want, what he have, what you do not, what you need and even what you think! He is supposed to be a God for all. So, I think you can communicate with Him directly, why not?
FG: Nobody knows the purpose of this journey. Some claim to know it all as if they have had a direct audience with God or have seen what is there on the other side. But, believe you me, we are all just as ignorant. Nobody knows what is in store for you, for me, for each one of us. We are all just sailing clutching to whatever that he says, she says...
HL: But still...
FG: Aaah...We are here...but not quite on the other side...

Tuesday, 24 September 2013

For the nation...

http://write2rest.blogspot.com/2013/09/sybil-kathigasu--chin-peng.html
Sybil Kathigasu and Chin Peng: Imperialism and Umnoputra


A week prior to the death of Chin Peng on 16 September 2013 in Bangkok, I finished reading No Dram of Mercy, a book by Malayan World War II civilian heroine Sybil Kathigasu.

I felt something important was missing from the book and the articles I read about the Kathigasu's. Chin Peng’s death helped me see more clearly.

Perhaps I can rest now.

In this (long) essay, I have selected some content from No Dram of Mercy, which was completed in or before 1949, but released only in 1954.

Most who have written about the Kathigasu’s emphasize the medical side of the story – their clinics in No. 141 Brewster Road, Ipoh and in No. 74 Main Street, Papan; their ‘chance’ evacuation to Papan; the cause and nature of Sybil’s injuries.

Since the clinics, evacuation and injuries are well covered by others, I have omitted discussion of them.

The content I have selected is mainly designed to serve my goal which is to suggest reasons why publication of No Dram of Mercy was delayed.

I propose that the same reasons account for Umno’s refusal to recognize Chin Peng, the well-recognized leader of the long defunct Communist Party of Malaya, and Umno’s belligerent prevention of the return of Chin Peng’s ashes to his homeland, Malaysia.

First, some similarities between Sybil Kathigasu and Chin Peng.

Similarities between Sybil and Chin Peng

Sybil is the only Malaysian woman ever to be awarded the George Medal, Britain’s highest civilian award for bravery. Chin Peng was the recipient of two British military medals for his role during World War II, and later the civilian OBE (Order of the British Empire) award.

Both Sybil and Chin Peng were heavily engaged in resisting the Japanese.

Both Sybil and Chin Peng were denied access to the public at key moments of their lives.

An overview of the Kathigasu’s

Many say No Dram of Mercy is an autobiography.

I think it is more helpful to describe it as a personal account of 3 years of Japanese occupation of Malaya, narrated by a woman who expended her life on behalf of others. I say this because I had to look beyond the book for personal information about the Kathigasu family.

On 01 August 1942, Nurse Sybil Kathigasu, 43  commonly known as Mrs K or Missy   was arrested in Perak by the Japanese occupiers. Her husband, Dr. Cecil Kathigasu, 49, had been arrested 3 days earlier, on the 29 July. They remained incarcerated until about the end of August 1945.

Over the 3 years of their separation and captivity, the Japanese imperialists treated them brutally.

They were detained in filthy and disease ridden places. They were subjected to humiliation, isolation, cold, insects and starvation. They were physically tortured by beatings, slapping, exposure to the sun, burnings, etc.

No Dram of Mercy describes what the Japanese did in Malaya and how the Kathigasu family and other Malayans endured and responded.

About her birth and ancestry, Sybil only records that she was born in Medan and that she was a Eurasian Catholic fluent in Cantonese. She tells us her mother, 73 years old in 1941, lived with her – and died while Sybil was serving out her prison sentence.

According to Wikipedia, her father was Irish-Eurasian, while her mother was French-Eurasian.

We know from other sources that Cecil was a Ceylonese Tamil who converted from Hinduism to Catholicism in order to marry Sybil.

Ho Tak Ming, in Doctors Extraordinaire (Ipoh: Perak Academy, 2006. 2nd edition) says Cecil graduated in Medicine in 1913 from Singapore Medical school, was a Sergeant in the Malayan Volunteer Infantry during World War I, was a stellar sportsman, and met Sybil while he was working in the General Hospital, Kuala Lumpur and she was training there to be a nurse and midwife. Dr Ho says Sybil and Cecil married in 1919. (Dr Ho also says Sybil’s mother was an Indian.)

The reason Sybil wrote No Dram of Mercy

A prayer Sybil records in the book tells us why she wrote No Dram of Mercy, a title derived from a few lines in Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice:

“Great Saint Anthony, please intercede for me with the Infant Jesus to give me the strength and courage to bear bravely what God’s Holy Will has ordained for me. Let me face death, if I must, in the spirit of the Holy Martyrs. But if I am spared to write a book about what I have undergone, I promise that the proceeds from the sale of the book shall go to building a church in your name, in Ipoh, and, if there is any over when the church is completed, to the relief of the poor and suffering, whatever their race or religion. Please help me, Saint Anthony.” (Kathigasu, Sybil. No Dram of Mercy. Kuala Lumpur: Prometheus, 2006; page 162)

At the time Sybil uttered the prayer, she was being held in Batu Gajah prison, awaiting trial against the three charges proffered against her:

“first . . . acting as a spy on behalf of and in co-operation with the enemy agents in Malaya. Second, of giving medical attention and other assistance to the Communist guerrillas and outlaws. Third, of possessing a radio set, listening to enemy broadcasts and disseminating enemy propaganda. Each of these charges carries a death sentence.’ (page 155)

A few weeks after uttering the prayer (perhaps more accurately making the promise), Sybil was tried in an office in the prison. She refused to accept legal representation, she pleaded guilty to the charges, and was sentenced to life. She began serving her sentence in the same prison, and remained there till the Japanese surrendered.

Prior to the Batu Gajah prison, Sybil – and Cecil – had been detained (separately) in a police lock-up in Ipoh, and in a Kempetei interrogation centre on the outskirts of Ipoh.

Of these ‘institutions,’ the Kempetei centre was the worst – detainees even had to kneel down like dogs to enter the cell, and were ‘treated’ to horrendous tortures. In the Kempetei centre, men and women were made to share the same cells.

The Kathigasu’s children William (25 years old in 1943) and Dawn (7 years) were also briefly held and tortured at the Kempetei centre.

Other contributors to No Dram of Mercy

No Dram of Mercy was published in 1954 in Britain, about 5 years after Sybil died, with a foreword by Richard Winstedt and an Introduction by Geoffrey E Cator.

Winstedt was a Senior Civil Servant, Malay scholar and historian.

Cator too was a Senior Civil Servant. He was British Resident of Labuan, then Selangor, then Perak, after which he was head of the Malay States Information Agency in London.

Later I will explain why Winstedt and Cator’s contributions to the book may help explain the 5 year interval between Sybil’s death and the publication of her book.

Four key attractions of No Dram of Mercy

No Dram of Mercy illuminates, inspires, is readable and is relevant.

No Dram of Mercy illuminates because it recounts the way the Japanese retained junior public servants (such as the police) in office, and how the Chinese were specially the targets of the Japanese. For example,

“One day a Malay police constable, Ahmad, was brought in with a fractured skull – the result of persisting in his duty. He had come across a party of Chinese openly running a gambling den in the market, and, attempting to arrest the ringleaders, had been struck from behind with an iron bar. We kept him with us, and he required several weeks of care and treatment before we could be sure that he would live. Ahmad never forgot what we did for him, and for his wife and two young children who depended on him; later on he was to find a practical way of demonstrating his gratitude.” (page 25)

And

“. . . most dreaded of all the anti-Communist measures were the identification parades or “Sook Chings.” Without warning, the entire Chinese population of a certain area would be ordered out of doors, and herded together in some convenient open space. There were no exceptions – men and women, old people and babes in arms, healthy and sick were rounded up like cattle. With luck, the parade might be over in a few hours, but equally it might be prolonged over two or three days, in which case the plight of the unfortunate victims was miserable indeed. Scorched by the sun, soaked by the rain, and chilled by the night wind in turn, subjected to the brutalities of the Japanese guards, forbidden sometimes to stir from a single spot for days on end, many of the weaker died of the treatment they received. But worst was the fear and uncertainty. Many were carried off by the Japanese with no reason given: sometimes the victims were sturdy young men – taken, it was rumoured, for work in labour gangs – who were never seen again, but anyone regardless of age or sex might be seized on suspicion of Communist sympathies or activities, to return, if they were lucky enough to return at all, with the marks of torture on their bodies.” (page 35)

No Dram of Mercy inspires because it shows us that if we are true humanitarians, we can help our needy neighbours even if we do not agree with their goals (Sybil herself was an ardent supporter of the British imperialists):

The Malayan People’s Anti-Japanese Army, as it was called, was dominated by the Communists, and the intention of the leaders was undoubtedly to set up a Communist State in Malaya. At this time, however, they were wise enough to keep their long-range plans to themselves. They were willing to co-operate whole-heartedly with all anti-Japanese elements in the country, regardless of political differences. They never tried to preach Communism outside their own ranks, and we never thought of them as Communists at all, but simply as allies of Britain and America in the fight against the Axis. (page 75)

No Dram of Mercy is written in the first person, in simple English. It broken into 20 short chapters with an average length of 9 pages. It is illustrated with evocative photos of people and places. It’s a good book for school discussions and even school dramas.

No Dram of Mercy is relevant because it comes across as honest story telling by a “race-less” (Eurasian) lady who expended her life on behalf of people of different ethnicities in multi-racial Malaya.

The contrast between Sybil’s portrayal of the Chinese as patriots and reports of Shuhaimi Baba’s portrayal of the Chinese in her movie, Tanda Putera, is striking.

Sybil’s special treatment by the British

Sybil writes that on the day she arrived home – in a car arranged for her by the Malayan People’s Anti-Japanese Army (“well clothed, armed and equipped by British”) – two British Officers of Force 136 were waiting for her. She notes:

“The British officers, who had responsibility for military intelligence, took down in outline the story of my experiences, and then asked me if there was any way in which they could help me.” (Page 180)

She had two requests. The first was that her husband and son should be released from Taiping Gaol. The second was a request for “the best medical attention available” so that she would be able to walk again, with a promise that she would pay for whatever it cost. On the last page of her narrative, Sybil reports the response of the officers:

“You shall have the best treatment, and it will be entirely at Government expense. We are authorised to tell you that the British military authorities will have your injuries treated exactly as if you had been wounded in battle.’ (Page 180)

Sybil tells us elsewhere in the book that the conditions of her incarceration were such that she could not keep any written records. We therefore know that her recall of events must have been hazy; there are very few dates in the book.

What then should we make of the words “we are authorised to tell you”?

Recall that the book’s foreword and introduction were written by men who had served as very senior members of the British colonial government. It seems likely that the officers were indeed authorised to tell her she would be treated as a military casualty.

It seems likely that the Sybil Kathigasu was a rarity because (1) she was well known in Ipoh, (2) she remained alive despite having been found guilty by a Japanese military court, (3) she had sustained injuries which were treatable, but not in Malaya, (4) she was highly commended by the Malayan People’s Anti-Japanese Army (MPAJA), led by the Communist Party of Malaya (CPM), then allies of the British.

The enigma behind No Dram of Mercy

No Dram of Mercy is somewhat enigmatic.

No Dram of Mercy is enigmatic because it’s not clear how the manuscript took shape. It doesn’t have an author’s preface, so we don’t know who reviewed her manuscript, who worked with her on it, and who endured neglect while she was writing. It doesn’t have a foreword by her husband or daughters, whom we know outlived Sybil. It doesn’t have commendations by Malayan leaders of the day, e.g. Tunku, H S Lee, Tan Cheng Lok, V T Sambanthan.

No Dram of Mercy is enigmatic because it doesn’t reveal why she was treated so kindly by the British. Was it because her father was Irish and her brother a soldier who died on the battlefield in Turkey (Gallipoli)? Was it because her recovery and subsequent testimony would help to demonize the Japanese? Was it because her story would inspire others to relieve “the poor and suffering, whatever their race or religion”?

Perhaps the Brits did what the Communists requested

I speculate that in August 1945 the British had agreed to requests by the MPAJA – the mainly communist Malayan resistance to the Japanese – to provide maximum help to Sybil.

The role played by Sybil, her husband and household was critical to the survival of the (mainly communist) resistance fighters and thus the defeat of the Japanese.

At great risk to themselves, the Kathigasu’s treated sick and injured resistance fighters.

Their clinic in Papan, a town so close to the hilly jungle where the terrorists hid out, was a natural place for people to meet and pass messages.

They listened to BBC broadcasts (often by Winstedt, see page 125) and disseminated news about the progress of the war.

And, during their interrogation and trial, they didn’t reveal anything which could expose and weaken the resistance.

It’s no wonder that the communists called Sybil “mother.”

And there lies the propaganda problem.

The value of No Dram of Mercy as propaganda

Recall that the foreword to No Dram of Mercy was written by Geoffrey E Cator, head of the Propaganda Department in London (“Malay States Information Agency”).

The British, through Force 136, had collaborated with the communist-led resistance fighters to overthrow the Japanese; their liaison was with Chin Peng, who was then already one of the top 3 leaders of the Communist Party of Malaya (CPM).

Though they opposed imperialists, the CPM collaborated with the British imperialists to defeat the Japanese imperialists.

I suppose the British imperialists thought that after the war they could buy over the communists, just as they succeeded in buying over Umno and it’s predecessors!

The British were to be disappointed. After the war, when the British resumed their exploitation of Malaya, the CPM resumed their goal to rid Malaya of the imperialists!

I speculate that while Sybil was being treated in Britain and her story was being prepared as a propaganda expose of Japanese brutality (the Brits were themselves often accused of brutality), the friendship between the “terrorists” and the British came to an end: the erstwhile friends became enemies.

Unfortunately for the British, No Dram of Mercy – which would have been great propaganda against the Japanese – was also an open acknowledgement of the massive role played by the Communist insurgents in resisting the Japanese.

The Chinese, according to Sybil

No Dram of Mercy, written by a person of known integrity, powerfully laid out how the Japanese targeted the Malayan Chinese community and how this drove the Chinese into the jungles to collaborate with the Communists against the Japanese.

The Malaysian historian Cheah Boon Kheng, describes the targeting of the Chinese and their response in his preface to the Prometheus edition of No Dram of Mercy:

“The Chinese community was the first to suffer the brunt of the Japanese Army’s draconian measures. In retaliation for anti-Japanese activities conducted by various Chinese organisations in Malaya following Japan’s invasion of China in 1937, the Japanese 25th Army under General Yamashita carried out a series of massacres of Chinese in Singapore and Peninsular Malaysia known as the sook ching or ‘Operation Clean-up’. According to Chinese estimates compiled at the end of the war, some 60,000 Chinese were killed in this way, while Japanese estimates put the figure mildly at a mere 6,000 victims. This single act of the Japanese administration not only frightened the Chinese away from the Japanese, but made them easy recruits to the communist-dominated resistance movement.” (page 2)

Professor Cheah also reminds us that the Malayan emergency was from 1948 to 1960.

The “Malayan emergency” was actually a civil war which came about because the Communists, under the leadership of Chin Peng, began resisting the British occupation just as they had resisted the Japanese occupation. (The Brits didn’t call it a civil war because if they had done so, British planters and other businesses in Malaya would have lost insurance protection and access to loans.)

So, in 1948, the mainly Chinese resistance fighters who collaborated with the Brits during the war against the Japanese in Malaya, the resistance fighters who called Sybil ‘mother’ (page 80) because she treated them, the resistance fighters for whom she suffered so severely, were declared enemies of the Brits.

I believe that explains why No Dram of Mercy was not published before Sybil died in 1949.

Sybil, Chin Peng and Umnoputra

In 1948, it was politically unthinkable to acknowledge the suffering and the contributions of the Chinese who were soon to be displaced from their homes and corralled in New Villages by the Briggs plan.

Today it is politically unthinkable for the Malay-rights obsessed Umno-led government to acknowledge the contribution of Chin Peng to the independence of Malaya. In 2003 Chin Peng was denied permission to return to Malaysia to launch his memoirs. This month, Umnoputra have proclaimed that even his ashes may not be returned for interment in the land whose freedom he fought for.

Both the delayed release of No Dram of Mercy and the barriers erected against Chin Peng are signs of imperial rule.

The imperialists then were Japanese and British. Today the imperialists are Umnoputra, with the Malaysian Chinese Association and other members of Barisan Nasional as collaborators.

Click here to read Chin Peng, an intriguing enigma to the end, an excellent article by Professor Cheah Boon Kheng.

Malaya: The Undeclared War

Monday, 23 September 2013

Be imaginative, they say!

David Bowie - The Chameleon!
The management gurus will always come in say that in order to stay in vogue with the ever changing times, we have to re-invent ourselves. To stay relevant, we have to re-brand, re-train and to stay afloat with the flow.
Errr... It doesn't sound right of you are an accountant and you start getting creative in your accounting. What about your trusted medicine man who starts becoming imaginative with his treatment modality and decides to experiment with new treatment avenues just to be different, giving a new meaning to the name of his office - the practice. He gets creative to make you more sick than you really are! And when things go wrong, he would say, "Oops, I'm sorry" and carry on with his next client/patient/victim. Of course those in the artistic arena would benefit and survive from regular face lifts. Their clients are easily bored and forever yearn for something new and fresh.
Bowie - still strong! 30yrs on
Fresh face actors, avant garde inventors, revolutionary designers and attention craving performers need to shed their exoskeleton every once in a while to turn heads. Even lawyers have to repeatedly think of ingenious ways to dodge their clients' wrongdoings ( the truth does not come in the equation) by creatively creating loopholes or doubts in the legal framework to sketch an element of doubt for their 'pathetic' clients to escape punishment!
Even conmen and thieves are becoming more and more slick these days. And the Nigerians with money stuck in frozen accounts... Do I need to go on?

Sunday, 22 September 2013

Chin Peng deserves his place of rest


http://www.freemalaysiatoday.com/category/opinion/2013/09/22/chin-peng-deserves-his-place-of-rest/


September 22, 2013
Chin Peng’s ashes should be allowed the courtesy of entry into the country and internment in the place of his wish.



By M Kula Segaran
I have heard about the Communist Party of Malaya secretary general Chin Peng from a young age. For as long as I can remember, Chin Peng has been associated with the town of Sitiawan. More than interest in his career as a guerrilla fighter drew me to him.
I, too, hail from Sitiawan where I was born a good many years after Chin Peng emerged on the west coast of Perak in 1924. Marxists might disagree, but a sense of geographical solidarity may be just as strong as class solidarity.
I had wanted to meet up with Chin Peng since the time I first heard about him. Being from a rubber tapping family, I was drawn to read quite a lot about him and his struggles.
Rubber was the mainstay of the Malayan economy but rubber tappers were poor and communist ideology was sympathetic to those at the bottom of the economic ladder. Hence I had an interest in the fighter who was from my hometown of Sitiawan and in how his career worked out in history.
My curiosity was gratified with the publication of Chin Peng’s memoir of his struggle, ‘My Side of History’, which was published in 2003. I devoured the book and remembered striking aspects of the story.
An Ipoh lawyer of my acquaintance, Chan Kok Keong, took up Chin Peng’s application to the Malaysian government to be allowed to return to Malaysia to visit his parents’ graves. Kok Keong arranged for a meet-up in Bangkok in 2009.
Through Kok Keong’s connections, the meeting took place in a famous hotel in the Thai capital in 2009. With episodes in Chin Peng’s memoirs fresh in my memory, the first thing I did when I encountered the man in the flesh as different to the vivid character in the pages of ‘My Side of History’ was to ask about intriguing episodes in the book.
I asked how he evaded capture by the British and the Japanese while he traveled in Perak in the period between 1939 and during the Second World War (1942-45). He told me his base was in the high hills of Bidor, near Cameron Highlands.
Chin Peng told me that he cycled from his base in the hills of Bidor via rubber plantations to places where he could meet up with fellow guerillas and contacts. He told me almost all the time he was able to avoid detention. Till today, this narrative evokes wonder and awe in him.
I asked about how he had met up with the British military unit ferried by submarine to link up with officers of the Malayan People’s Anti-Japanese Army on the coast of Perak in 1943. He said the submarine landed in Lumut Kiri.
Even present days Perakians would be hard put to know where Lumut Kiri is. It is a very remote area which is only accessible on foot. Chin Peng said he had cycled to Pantai Remis via rubber plantations and then walked the last few miles to Lumut Kiri to meet up with his British military contacts. This wasn’t an easy feat, even if attempted in these days — what more then!
Honouring agreements
In the Bangkok meeting with him, I sensed Chin Peng’s desire to o come back to Malaysia, if only to pay his respects at his parents’ graves which are at the Chinese grave site in the village of Pundut, in Lumut. Alas, that wish remains unfulfilled.
I have raised in Parliament the 1989 Peace Agreement between the Malaysian government and the MCP.
I have argued that the government must be ashamed for not honouring their part of the agreement to allow Chin Peng to return as required by the terms of the peace accord.
Now the government’s decision to disallow the internment of his ashes in Pundut compounds the insensibility of the earlier decision to bar his return to the country of his birth.
How can we expect others to abide by the terms of agreement they may make with us if our government violates and refuses to adhere to agreements we have made with others, such as the one we made with the MCP in 1989?
I disagree with communist ideology and abhor the huge loss of life and destruction of property their militant struggle caused in Malaya between 1948 and 1960, and on a lesser scale from 1960 to the conclusion of a peace agreement in 1989.
But I contend that the MCP’s struggle against the Japanese during the latter’s occupation of Malaya was valiant and their resistance to the British colonials after the defeat of the Japanese hastened the grant of independence to Malaya in 1957.
For that reason and also in deference to the terms of the 1989 peace accords, Chin Peng’s ashes should be allowed the courtesy of entry into the country and internment in the place of his wish.

M Kula Segaran the MP for Ipoh Barat and the DAP national vice chairman.

Friday, 20 September 2013

I came here to bury Chin Peng, not to praise him

SEPTEMBER 19, 2013. MALAY MAIL
Praba Ganesan
Praba Ganesan is chief executive
at KUASA, 
an NGO using
volunteerism to empower 
the
52 per cent. He believes it is
time
 to get involved
SEPT 19 — Funerals are always for the living. The dead don’t derive value from the exercise, irrespective of whether the remains are of obsessive atheists or deeply reflective monotheists.
The dead are dead, which is why body-grabbing episodes by your local cheerful Islamic department amuses me — and upsetting only as far as the act excludes the deceased’s family and presupposed values in the eventual rites.
The dead themselves can’t mind.
I say this upfront because I would prefer a zero-cost funeral for myself using recycled plastic, or roadside grass. I say this now because Chin Peng died and a slew of willing citizens are raving and ranting like a mob around a giant plastic doughnut, without actually wanting doughnuts.
The raves and rants are inappropriate because there is no widespread lobby at home for Chin Peng. Nor are protest rallies forthcoming.
And they distract from what reasonable people prefer: A meaningful discourse with full view of the facts and space for all opinions, and a common opinion representing the maturity of a society that is not silly enough to be caught up by jingoism and empty rhetoric.
I am not advocating for Chin Peng’s remains to be brought to Malaysia, or even for the outlandish request of putting up a memorial, but seriously, when Inspector-General of Police Khalid Abu Bakar said that he was upping border security so that Chin Peng’s body — a bit like “Weekend at Bernie’s” — never makes it past our border north, I grow weary.
But not before sniggering, for everything and anything traverses the whole border especially at the checkpoints; whether the 15 odd Bangladeshis in a sedan booth making their way to blissful economic exploitation in Balakong, diesel and petroleum by the tankers heading back to Thailand effectively stealing our subsidies, bored Alor Setar husbands riding shotgun with Penang technicians for a weekend jaunt and almost overstaying ASEAN pub girls prancing over to stamp their passports and getting a cheap manicure before boarding their bus returning to Kuala Lumpur. All witnessed by this lady selling steamed corn two metres from the no-man’s land zone and before Thai immigration.
I rather the IGP focussing on keeping my 61-year-old widowed mother’s travels to the city temple using the bus safe. Her husband was a serviceman, but she’d prefer the security not protection from dead 89-year-old men. Snatch thieves not greying zombies, I fear.
It’s the inordinate concern for the inane which gets me weary. We appear petty, as a nation.
Accounts to be settled
There are families affected by the period of Emergency (1948-1960) and thereafter isolated communists acts leading to the 1989 Haadyai Agreement officially ending any hostilities between Malaysian security forces and remnants of the communists 41 years after the killing of a planter in Sungai Siput.
But the killings were on both sides and the years of serious all-out fighting until 1955 were between British security forces — which had a substantial number of Malayans — and the Malayan Communist Party (MCP) which was exclusively Malayans.
There were cruel exactions on both sides and half a million of rural folks, mostly Chinese, were forcibly evacuated to fringes of cities to live in new villages which were in actuality camps. The social cost of that is still being felt till today, who’s to pay for that?
My friend, a wonderful well-meaning chap, says he would have fought on the side of the British against the Communists back then because he would have been picking the “lesser evil.”
It is a slippery-slope when beliefs are mounted on who did less wicked things, for people are only fed by those on their side of the divide. It compounds when that side won and wrote the history texts.
Neither do these remarks discount most of what is written.
Pity Chin Peng or hate Chin Peng, but don’t oversimplify the past by claiming it is completely factual.
Plus, there is the matter of a powwow 24 years ago across the border. Why are communities opposed to Chin Peng not opposed to the government’s decision to accept the Haadyai Agreement? The defence ministry did not oppose, the police did not oppose, Mahathir Mohamad supported it.
If those angry today at the mention of Chin Peng’s body returning were not up in arms back in 1989 and in positions oppose, are they then hypocrites? What does Malaysia call those who are of the opinion that agreeing to expedite their own interests and then to disown their own words when it is convenient?
Finally on this revisionist attitude to our collective past, when is it fine to kill members of the British forces impingeing on locals?
If the security forces of 1958-1957 were not really under British rule because there were Malayans in them, are the British justified in executing Maharajalela for murdering JWW Birch, then tracking Mat Kilau for decades and somewhere between butchering Tok Janggut and his men?
Was Custer the victim at the Battle of Little Bighorn, and Crazy Horse the villain? The Indian-killer or the white-soldier killer — who to cherish? And are the facts different because America is a
white-ruled society now?
There is no rewind button
Today does not matter to Chin Peng, nor does it to Abdul Rahman. Neither can David Marshall tell us about the sidebar conversations they had at the Baling Talks in 1955. They are all dead.
History is not about forcing a version. Life is about ensuring progress by accepting deep divides and working the margins. A future is built by recognising histories, appreciating the present accommodations and engaging people to realise everyone matters all the time.
Ignorance is the enemy of any tangible present or future.
I fear this debacle has highlighted the amazing levels of ignorance encouraged by those in power in steering emotions to particular outcomes.
Chin Peng’s death gave us an urgency to speak of the past in a sane way. That opportunity has passed.
All the past days have managed to highlight is that there are active voices disapproving intellect in our midst.
In time, along this trajectory, Malaysia will become an ignorant nation growing in arrogance. Then no war in the past or its actors matter anymore.
Nobody would want to enter this abrasive nation anymore, not even a Chin Peng.
http://www.themalaymailonline.com/opinion/praba-ganesan/article/i-came-here-to-bury-chin-peng-not-to-praise-him

Thursday, 19 September 2013

Liberator or terrorist?


http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/obituaries/10313556/Chin-Peng.html

Chin Peng
Chin Peng, who has died aged 89, was decorated for his bravery fighting alongside British forces in the Second World War then afterwards took up arms against them in the Malayan Emergency.
His fight continued even after Malaya achieved independence in 1957, and it was only in 1989 that he signed a peace treaty with the government of what was by then Malaysia. Even so, he continued to be prevented from returning from exile to the land of his birth, where he remained a divisive figure.
Ong Boon Hua was born on October 21 1924 in Sitiawan, a small town in the state of Perak in the Malayan peninsular that bordered southern Thailand. He was the son of a bicycle dealer who had emigrated from Fujian province in south-east China: it would be Malaya’s ethnic-Chinese population which took up arms most willingly against the Japanese during the war; feeling themselves to be a disenfranchised minority, however, it was also they who formed the spine of the postwar communist insurgency against Britain.
Chin Peng, as he would be known on the battlefield, was a studious youth, learning English at the Methodist School in Perak. At 15 he joined the Communist Party of Malaya (CPM) and began work in the design department of Perak’s Humanity News.
He was close to the CPM’s leader Lai Teck, and his political rise was swift. But war would interrupt his ascent. After the Japanese invasion in December 1941 the CPM formed the Malayan People’s Anti-Japanese Army (MPAJA). From February 1942 to the end of the war the MPAJA took on Japanese forces, often with Britain providing weapons and training.
Chin Peng was an MPAJA liaison with British officers (many from Force 136, a south-east Asian variant of the Special Operations Executive). In an interview in 2009, Chin Peng recalled cycling from his home to the coastal town of Lumut to meet British operatives who had arrived by submarine: “I used the trunk roads and then the estate roads to avoid being spotted. I cycled everywhere.”
For his contribution to the Allied war effort, Chin Peng was decorated with the Burma Star and appointed OBE. The latter would soon be rescinded as Peng segued from wartime hero to colonial villain.
After the Japanese surrender in August 1945 the MPAJA took control before British authority was restored that autumn. In the brief interregnum, reprisals were severe. The ethnic-Chinese MPAJA accused many ethnic-Malays of collaborating with the Japanese. Ethnic-Malays, meanwhile, would accuse the MPAJA of indiscriminate violence.
With the return of British rule, the CPM campaigned for independence. When it became clear that this would not be forthcoming, the party went underground. Leader Lai Teck was accused of being a spy and fled
leaving Chin Peng, aged 24, to take control.
He immediately abandoned Lai Teck’s moderate stance, advocating instead violent struggle on top of strike action as the best means to establish a communist state in Malaya and Singapore. On June 16 1948 this new aggression was announced when CPM fighters attacked two rubber plantations in northern Malaya and murdered three British planters. Though he always denied personally ordering the killings, Chin remained
unrepentant about them. “We considered the European planters as a symbol of colonial rule,” he said. “They were hated by the workers.
"I make no apologies for seeking to replace such an odious system with a form of Marxist socialism. Colonial exploitation, irrespective of who were the masters, Japanese or British, was morally wrong. If you saw how the returning British functioned the way I did, you would know why I chose arms.”
Days later British authorities declared an Emergency, beginning a 12-year conflict that amounted to a war in all but name. The communists could count on up to 10,000 insurgents; Britain dispatched tens of thousands of Commonwealth troops. Chin Peng’s tactics were clear: rely on the support of ethnic-Chinese smallholders on the fringes of the jungle, then retreat into that jungle when British troops moved in.
To counter this, in 1950 Sir Harold Briggs organised the resettlement of half a million largely ethnic-Chinese in hundreds of “New Villages” away from the jungle redoubts of the CPM. Cut off from the sources of food and support, Chin’s forces became besieged.
This did not prevent the assassination of the British High Commissioner, Sir Henry Gurney, in October 1951, but the tide of conflict was turning. Having isolated Chin’s forces, British troops began aggressive patrols of
the jungle. Slowly but surely Chin’s men were hunted down. CPM attacks fell dramatically.
By 1955 the Malayan government offered communist insurgents an amnesty before, at the end of the year, the two sides met for talks. Chin Peng was not in emollient mood. He demanded recognition of the CPM and acceptance of its role in political life. “If you demand our surrender,” he noted, “we would prefer to fight to the last man.”
The talks collapsed and the amnesty was withdrawn. Despite half-hearted efforts to relaunch negotiations, it quickly became apparent that Britain was preparing to grant Malaya independence, stripping the insurgency of its raison d’être. Yet Chin considered the government of the newly-independent country colonial stooges, and some of his fighters continued to launch attacks into 1958. Most fled across the border into southern Thailand, however, and by 1960 Malaya declared the Emergency over. Chin Peng left Thailand for Beijing.
There he spent much of the next decades. Assured that south-east Asia was ripe for revolution, the CPM continued to maintain a base in southern Thailand. But revolution never materialised, and in the course of the 1970s the CPM was riven by bloody infighting. Finally, on December 2 1989, a peace agreement was signed by the Malaysian and Thai governments and the CPM.
Chin, unrepentant for his role in a 40-year conflict which cost many thousands of lives, appealed – unsuccessfully – to be allowed to returned to Malaysia.
He is reported to have married Lee Kwan Wa, with whom he had two sons.

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