WHEN Malaysian jazz queen Sheila Majid and TV actress Nur Fathia Latiff publicly voiced out their opinions regarding the state of the nation, it wasn’t long before they were chastised. 

The two entertainers had lamented the country’s microeconomic and political landscape. Their views are valid, and the Malaysian public share their sentiments. 

Practically everywhere in the world, the celebrity’s influence runs deep. It reaches into our emotional core, and at times, our very identity. They are the vessels of our expressive selves and they touch us all  individually, whether it’s though the lyrical genius of a song or an on-screen performance.

It is why the entertainment industry is so lucrative, especially so in Malaysia where news of our favourite celebrities on social media and the gossip section of magazines, newspapers, and online portals adorn the walls as much news of our politicians. 

We are invested in them. And quite often, as evident in the ripple-effect of the recent Weinstein scandal, we find it difficult to separate the artist from their art. I’ll be honest: I was crushed when the news about Kevin Spacey’s alleged sexual assault emerged. I was captivated by his performance in the political thriller House of Cards but now, I’m left with a sour taste in my mouth every time I watch a new episode.

Which is why when Sheila and Nur Fathia expressed their political views, their fans and a good number of the Malaysian public were understandably upset.

The clarion call has generally been: “The artist should stick to entertaining. They shouldn’t get involved in politics or speak about things they don’t understand.” 

There are two problems with this. One, it is an insult to their intelligence based on their profession. Two, it’s a restriction on their rights as Malaysian citizens to express themselves and participate in the discussion.

We more commonly hear this applied to university students, who despite being allowed to join political organisations, still come under fire for expressing their opinions. I am willing to negotiate the argument that their lack of experience and arguably, maturity, may be an issue.

But what this ultimately signals is a culture of assigning individuals a “public identity” and not acknowledging their right to speak openly as individual Malaysian citizens.

Quite often we are told, “If you want to express your opinions, do it on your own time” or more ludicrously, “Say it in private instead”.

These put-down statements to shut up are absurd when state policy and corporate practices have very tangible effects on the lives of Malaysians.

Such advice simply aims to put us on a separate table where we’re not allowed to participate in the discussion on the shifts the country is undergoing. 

In this instance, the artiste, student or corporate worker’s “public identity” is valued over his or her identity as a Malaysian citizen. When we tell Sheila Majid to keep out of politics, we’re essentially framing her as an entertainer and not a Malaysian who has every right to speak her mind about what she believes is wrong in this country. Exceptions are made to afford some celebrities the luxury of speaking up, but that would depend on where their allegiances lie.

While the Western entertainment industry is not a golden standard, the freedom accorded to celebrities to express their political beliefs and participate in public discussions shows democratic maturity. It acknowledges that first and foremost that you are a citizen of this nation. We see this during American presidential elections when our favourite celebrities openly express their support for candidates and even help them campaign.

The influence celebrities hold over the public is understandably different than that of a politician – but it is recognised that the reach they have can be used for the political good (or bad). 

Maybe that’s what makes them so formidable and in a way, threatening. It was celebrity power that got Donald Trump elected into the presidency.

But whether you agree or disagree with his politics, his right to express his views publicly was not restricted by his previous “public identity” as a businessman and TV host. That is what we’re taking away here.

So, when Seniman president Zed Zaidi defended the artistes right to public expression, he acknowledged that the Malaysian individual comes before the entertainer’s “public identity” of an entertainer. That they too have something valuable to contribute to the national discourse. Because we all have multiple identities: parent, spouse, child, friend, worker, neighbour, student, alumni member, writer, office worker, customer, taxi driver, etc. And every day, we switch between these identities, negotiating them and wearing them accordingly.

But when it comes to a national discourse on issues affecting the country’s economic and social fabric, we are, first and foremost, Malaysian. – December 8, 2017.

* Aziff Azuddin reads The Malaysian Insight.

* 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.