HAVING two national celebrations in a row (National Day on August 31, and Malaysia Day on September 16) is bound to make Malaysians think a lot about national unity.

After all, these are dates from which Malayans, and later Malaysians, started to recognise a common history, belonging, and destiny.

As a corollary, integration becomes a matter of obsession for unity is seen not only as a virtue, but a prerequisite to our pursuit of happiness. 

Better communal relations enable consensus in difficult matters, while the less segmentation happens in a nation, the greater the talent pool it has for nation-building purposes.

Surely, this obsession deserves to be scrutinised further. For example, unity in service of a mythical, parochial, and xenophobic cause is nothing less than fascism.

However, even without resorting to extreme examples, we still have to be careful not to turn our romance of unity into an integration fetish.

That’s not to say the idea of integration does not have its many shades. It can mean integration (the melting pot model), assimilation (the drop in the ocean model), and accommodation (the salad bowl model).

Nevertheless, all of these models signify a move towards a gravitational point. That also means what is deemed to be marginal, minority, or non-mainstream will have to undergo changes.

Change is no doubt a constant in life but enforced integration often has rather traumatic outcomes, especially if policies in pursuit of it are not well thought-out.

A market for the less bequeathed

For one, let’s think about a scenario where Chinese independent schools (not to be confused with government-sponsored primary vernacular schools) are abolished.
The move would certainly appeal to the integration fetish for many do see the schools as ethnocultural enclaves, although why don’t they see the boarding schools, elite international schools or religious schools as such baffles me.

What most of us (myself included) as graduates of the public school system do not get is that, what appears to be a cultural bastion is also a market serving many Malaysian Chinese who are not sure if they will get admission into their choices of study (which is highly important) in public universities due to ethnic-based preferential treatment, and if they fail will they have the financial wherewithal to enter the expensive private institutions, local or abroad.

Under such a context, perhaps it is only natural for some—often not from the crème de la crème category—to resort to Chinese independent schools as a safe option since the fees are not prohibitively expensive, coupled with the fact that the Unified Examination Certificate (UEC) is recognised in many countries, including neighbouring Singapore that offers top ranking universities with options of affordable study loans.

In other words, it is as much a choice of schooling as it is of an entire network of support structures. Dismantling that without any worthy replacement would mean shoving many hearts and ambitions into the hurt locker.

Integrating the locals

There is also the case of Borneonisation that attracts many  controversies because it is seen to run against the concept of national integration as it involves West Malaysians being blocked from opportunities in East Malaysia.

I have written elsewhere about the pitfalls of affirmative action at the wrong places so I will not repeat it here. Nevertheless, there is still a case to be argued for the Borneonisation of the civil service in Sabah and Sarawak, apart from the fact it is enshrined in the 18- and 20- point agreements and that non-Malay Bumiputera representation in the service has been paltry.

Considering that the Malaysian civil service is professionalising, having greater representation in the civil service also meant having greater access to high-skill and high-paying jobs.

As the Labour Force Survey 2016 shows, both Sabah and Sarawak still have the lowest proportion of their workforce being tertiary educated. 

Thus, it makes sense in this climate of graduate un- and under-employment to give the locals a higher priority in employment.

Allowing East Malaysians greater participation in these roles would mean that the tertiary-educated would gain more commensurate employment back in their home states rather than having to brace the South China Sea for better opportunities, enabling the nurturing of a critical mass to kick-start and sustain a high-skilled economy.

Sabah, in particular, would benefit as it suffers from the highest unemployment rate in Malaysia (if discounting Labuan), not to mention having one of the slowest growth rates in high skilled jobs.

This is more so important considering that East Malaysia is segregated from the spillover effects of urban concentric zones in the peninsula (such as around Kuala Lumpur, or even Singapore).

I understand some West Malaysians like to trivialise this by saying that they too end up working in the Klang Valley despite not being born there but that’s a bit patronising. To compare migration between relatively well-connected West Malaysian states to crossing East and West Malaysia is to negate the physical and cultural distance, not to mention the significant cost behind it.

Let’s think of integration in different ways

Too many causes in the name of national integration are traumatic events as they push people towards deculturation. Yet, deculturation is not without implications. When it succeeds, such as in the case of second-generation immigrants in Europe, it gave rise to a new wave of religious fundamentalism.

And when it fails, such as the case of attempted Thaification of the Southern Thai Muslims, it breeds resentment and resistance.

Perhaps it’s time we expand our definition on what constitutes integration to explore more supportive forms of integration, such as integrating citizens into a dignified and just economy, a mental health support network or that of a green, ecologically responsible living environment.

After all, what use is identity sameness in the face of the traumatic forces of climate change, technological disruption, and borderless competition?

Wouldn’t integration be more helpful if it helps to prevent or mitigate traumas instead of causing it? A sense of belonging and loyalty would easily follow if such a system exists in the first place. – September 13, 2017.

* A Forensic Science-Asian Studies hybrid, Nicholas Chan is interested in how authority is shaped, exercised, and more importantly, resisted in Southeast Asia.

* This is the opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of The Malaysian Insight. Article may be edited for brevity and clarity.