IT should be quite evident by now the main obstacle to recognising the Unified Examination Certificate (UEC) is never about its quality – which is established internationally – but the limits of multiculturalism.

In other words, a significant number of Malaysians feel that state recognition of a vernacular language, non-national curriculum is more than Malaysia’s multiculturalism can permit.

Yet the conversation remains one whereby both sides continue to speak past each other, with terms of references that are irreconcilable, giving room to hatred entrepreneurs to slide in their rhetoric to sow greater national discord in such a precarious time as Malaysia has just experienced its first regime change.

Ironically, how we get to here is also due to the limits of multiculturalism. It’s the “to you your culture and to me mine” doctrine that is supposed to foster peace and understanding in a multicultural society has given rise to ethnolinguistic bubbles, with no less help from the echo chamber effect of social media of course.

Within these bubbles, the work of lobbying and convincing often only involve speaking to those who think and speak like us. It then creates a negative feedback loop through which bubbles consolidate, making the task of having any national conversation progressively harder, thereby exacerbating the culture war.

And here’s my critique of multiculturalism, that while it tries to recognise as much diversity as possible, it refuses to recognise its own limitations.

Before going into what I meant by that, let me be clear about two things. First, I have no qualms about the multicultural ideal. It is an ideal I am willing to stand by and fight for, as most assimilationist visions are just abhorrent and oppressive. China’s treatment of the Xinjiang “problem” is a good example of it.

Second, what I say here is not just referring to the UEC issue but a larger world that grapples with: on one hand, the fallout of an integration crisis, in which radicalisation is blamed on both multiculturalism and the lack of it; and on the other hand, a culture war in which fundamental incompatibilities between certain cultures and beliefs threaten to consume and derail democracies not unlike ours.

As the ideal of multiculturalism crumbles even in liberal democracies, those who claim to be its staunchest defenders should develop some room for internal reflection and ask, what went wrong?

I believe a big part of it stems from a belief that multiculturalism is sustained through mere reception and not conversation. This, in turn, is based on a naïve optimism that cultures are completely devoid of incompatible norms and beliefs. Sure, the melting pot might be able to take in everything but some work must be done to make sure what results doesn’t taste funny.

Without prescribing limits, multiculturalism could easily devolve into a struggle to preserve the purity of one’s culture when cultures meet. In a perfect world, this might not happen, but historically we have not been living in one.

Thus, such thinking often results in two outcomes multiculturalism set out to prevent in the first place – conflict and segregation.

Conflict erupts when the stronger attempt to enforce their own rules to protect the sanctity of their culture, while segregation transpires as the weaker retreat to ethnocultural ghettoes to preserve them.

It is true on a day-to-day basis we just get around cultural matters organically without the need of a manual. And the state should rightly be hands-off as much as possible.

But some common ground must be reached so that people will know when the state will step in, and when it does, what standards will it adhere to?

For example, can the state allow the practice of forced marriage just because it is the culture of an immigrant’s home country? Can discrimination be carried out along, say, caste lines within a subgroup of the population through invoking culture?

If such guidelines are not prescribed, ethno-religious and sexual minorities, especially women, will inevitably be the victims of overzealous culture enforcers, if not the state itself.

Even when it comes down to something as mundane as dietary customs, we are still uncertain about what the standards are. And the axiom of ‘not serving people the things they don’t eat’ don’t quite cut it either, considering people now took offense even at the sight of food they don’t eat.

So which custom should we adhere to? Can we serve beef? Is the vegetarian offensive to meat-eaters? Should we ban non-halal food entirely? Should we have separate tables to be safe? And if we do, how far should the tables be separated? And if the proper table etiquette is that we can only be separated to be together, is that the consensus we have for other matters as well?

One may say these are decidedly trivial issues, but I disagree. They are invisible standards to be imposed on people, tripwires in an age of social media outrage. I rather we set some ground rules than risk facing something like this again because identity politics today are quick to feed on a self-righteous discourse of being offended rather than accepting the fact that as human beings with plural experiences, cultural faux pas can occur without any element of malice.

For rules to be set we must first talk. And to talk (and not speak past each other) we will inevitably have to get on the same table. If groups keep on setting up tables of their own, some may bound to be sitting so far away from others that their voices will not be heard, their language not understood.

Multiculturalism must be a goal of the conversation, but it by itself, without clarification of its practice and limitations, cannot be the terms of conversation.

I understand many will think that to speak about the limits of multiculturalism – not to be confused with insisting an anti-multicultural stance – is to succumb to racism.

But to not speak about it at all would mean leaving aside difficult questions about multiculturalism for the racists to answer. And the last thing they care about is multiculturalism. – July 29, 2018.

* 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.