AUGUST 22 — “When competing in the Olympics, we are Malaysians. When not, then we are Type-C and Type-K.”

Bloody Alex, it had to be him, to get into my head, gnawing away.

For those out of the loop, the tropes are recent additions to local social media language — referring to Malaysian Chinese and Indians. Euphemisms are handy to bypass social media platforms’ racism bans.

Type C, Malaysian Chinese. Type K, Malaysian Indian. K hurts more than I, that’s why. Even the PM tripped on the letter. Initially, it was a play on the prevalent device charging cable Type-C but trust Malaysians to make the most of terms.

It was during the Olympics and I had popped Alex a call, he went for the jugular. I never managed hello before he went full throttle on how Malaysia disappoints. How, our Olympians are likely to be judged by both performances and race. Somehow, the euphoria or disappointment modulates differently based on ethnicity.

This is not a fact, what he said. Yet, I could not brush it aside.

A year younger, Alex grew up with me in the same neighbourhood. Old friends — and increasingly new friends too — tend to speak their minds with me. The filter goes missing. I seem to be the target for all issues not quite right in the federation.

In Alex’s case it would be about my faith in a multicultural Malaysia. He feels it’s fundamentally flawed, from his view where he sits on the street.

He was a believer before. But today, with a son in our schools exposed to casual racism and race driving every major conversation in our politics, he feels like many that Malaysia as home for all Malaysians is even more elusive.

What he feels is not localised to Malaysians and in Malaysia only.

Identity and belonging continues to challenge all societies as walls of physical segregation fall in stages throughout the world.

In Bismarck’s fatherland

Even in Germany, and even for a legend.

Back in 2018, Mesut Özil quit international football after being pilloried for Germany’s dismal exit at the World Cup in Russia. Özil had a distinguished career both for club and country up to that juncture, four years earlier he was one of the creative centrepieces to help his country lift the World Cup in Brazil.

While Özil is a third-generation German resident, he was only naturalised as a German at the end of his teenage years.

Why? For he is one of more than a million ethnic Turks born and raised in Deutschland. Citizenship for Turks in Germany has always been tricky, even if far more normalised today. His hometown is Gelsenkirchen — not far from my favourite German team MSV Duisburg.

Özil felt he was faulted more for his country’s football failure than other players — ostensibly the blonde ethnic Germanic ones — in the squad. Further, Özil is a Muslim which only emboldens critics to caricature him.

He quipped, “I am German when we win, but I am an immigrant when we lose.”

Granted it is speculative. But how wrong is Özil to assume that for a considerable number of Germans, probably those right-wing nutters Alternative for Germany (AfD) and their growing legion of voters, he did not try hard enough because he is not German enough?

It is a sentiment many Malaysians with migrant backgrounds feel here. Whether fourth or fifth generation Malaysians who’ve only known Bukit Mertajam or Pulai as home, they walk on the land of their birth tentatively. Somehow, the Far Right reminds them through various machinations that they should not feel too comfortable.

Limbo is not home

Countries are conceptual constructs, most certainly in former European colonies in Africa and Asia. There is no reason for Sumatra and Kalimantan to be in one country except for the accident of being Dutch colonies born from the Anglo-Dutch Treaty of 1824.

Countries are concepts.

They require statesmen to drive them on. For new countries are always a few bad decisions from dissolution. There are always more reasons to split territories rather than build a common identity on shared values.

The shared values and common identity must not be compromised in the medium term.

This is where Malaysia fails repeatedly, and the reason why I feel concern when the Alexes of Malaysia exhibit their disappointment.

There is duality in the language used by our leaders to speak about Malaysia and being Malaysian.

They cannot outright back Malaysia. Without fail a backhanded caveat is extended. As if a failure to add the condition would upset many, although the stipulation of the condition turns enthusiasm into caution for others.

I can almost see the Merdeka speeches next week, from those in and out of power.

“We in ___________ are completely invested in the Malaysia project, after 60 years it is a place for all Malaysians to thrive. Of course, we will make sure that Malays in particular are not left behind.”

That. The second sentence. Was it necessary?

If Malaysians are set to thrive, then all of the 33 official races including Malays are to, well, thrive. Why stick that at the back? The condition. The explainer. The clarifier.

Are they asserting, they will work hard for all Malaysians but work a little harder for Malays?

It is not mere semantics.

And if it was, then the accusation would be at those who included the superfluous line and not for those being critical of it.

There is an intellectual cop-out in the act, secreting a level of contempt for equal love for all Malaysians.

Language is powerful and it affects how people feel about themselves and their country.

The double-talk of equal but not really completely equal creates anxiety among Malaysians. It renders us less confident about the country. It makes Alex feel that the country expects some Malaysians to be less valuable than others in an Olympic ring or court or field.

Identity and belonging are fragile, far more fragile that policy makers realise.

I want a leader who says, “You are Malaysian, win or lose. You are always one of us. I won’t let you down.”

Is he out there?

* This is the personal opinion of the columnist.