Opinions

An oft-cited defence of Muslims against Islamophobes and critics of the religion is that what those on the fringes of the religious practice and preach is not what Islam stands for. In addition to a gap between theory and practice, there is also a gap between the mortal and the divine. Islam is a perfect divine religion, but those practising it are imperfect mortal men. This imperfection manifests itself in many ways. Some are as innocent as in the way Muslims pray (notice how some schools (madhhab) hold the hands over their bellies whilst others don’t?).1 Some as far as whether women are sui juris in terms of marriage.2 And there are even ones that go as far as differences in basic theological principles. For instance, on whether people have free will as it relates to predestination (Qada’ and Qadr).3 The core idea here is that these differences in opinion epitomise the problem of human interpretation of the divine – that they are fundamentally imperfect.

Climate change is widely accepted as an issue, but it is not always intuitive. How is a substance as invisible and harmless as Carbon Dioxide (CO2) able to wreak havoc on earth at a scale being claimed – after all, is CO2 not what we naturally produce when we breathe, and what fuels the existence of the beautiful greeneries of the earth? If the reports from a few months ago claim that we are headed towards some of the hottest heatwaves Britain has seen, how, then, are we experiencing one of the coldest winters in recent years? Yet, climate change is an issue that has been well-understood by the scientific community for decades; it is the nuances that are difficult to communicate. These nuances are often lost in headline statements such as ‘keeping 1.5 ˚C within reach’ or ‘reach net-zero by 2050,’ fuelling much scepticism, or rather a lack of urgency, among the public. This article aims to inform the reader of the key concepts underpinning climate change science and clarify common misconceptions. 

A couple of months back, I drove to the Royal Lake Club at the heart of metropolitan Kuala Lumpur. As I stepped out of my car, I checked my pockets for my cigarette case containing my beloved Sampoerna. I lit the cigarette as I was early for my meeting with a Minister from Bersatu. Less than 400 metres west is Dataran Merdeka; many battles have been fought there. 1998 witnessed seas of Malaysians square up against the Federal Reserve Unit as they rallied in the name of ‘Reformasi’. In the late 2000s, Malaysians took to the street again to demand free and fair elections, ‘Bersih!’, they cried as the surroundings were blurred with tear gas and showers of the FRU’s chemical-induced water cannon. Cries of ‘Kleptocracy’ filled Dataran Merdeka in 2015.

The past few weeks have been a tumultuous period for Malaysia. As the dust settles (for now), and Malaysia’s 10th Prime Minister, Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim, prepares to helm the new government, it is timely to take a step back and consider the current state of the country, as well as lessons that leaders and ordinary citizens should takeaway. As an individual who studied political science, here are three points of reflection about nation-building and where we go from here.

“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” “Step out of your comfort zone,” “You will be fine,” such so-called motivating quotes have never failed to crop up in our sight, be it on our social media pages, our daily conversations with acquaintances, or even loved ones.

As students studying overseas in the UK and Ireland, we are a handful of the lucky ones on track to living life the predetermined ‘good’ way — trying our best to study hard in ‘good’ universities, get ‘good’ grades, and graduate in a field with good ‘career’ prospects. Once all that’s done, we are meant to go on and work in ‘good’ companies, contribute to society in meaningful ways, and start the process all over again with the partner and children that we are supposed to have. With the golden rule in place, life becomes boring with a fixed template; at different points in our lives, we might wonder if there really is more to life than it seems.

“Was British colonialism in Malaysia a good thing?” This was the prompt I was given in Year 8 history when my teacher, despite my fervent and unequivocal presentation answering a firm ‘no’ to this question, continued to encouragingly say, “There were some positive facets as well…” Though my frustration was palpable, my 14-year-old self struggled to fully articulate how harrowing it was to hear someone, a British woman, no less, attempt to silence me and dismiss the trauma of an entire society who continues to struggle in the wake of a post-colonial hangover.

With politics being a topic discouraged within the walls of schools, many would argue that 18-year-olds could not possibly have the capacity to understand the complexity of Malaysian politics. One of the reasons for lowering the voting age is so that the youth’s interests can be represented and for there to be an increase in voter turnout; this is surely one way to ensure democracy in Malaysia is being upheld as citizens exercise their right to vote. But what about the step that precedes voting — forming one’s own political opinions? How is the youth supposed to understand the goals and ambitions of the political campaigns running for the 15th General Election?

Over the past few years, Malaysia has seen a tremendous shift in political power. For the first time since its independence, Malaysia was ruled by an opposing coalition. Two years later, in February 2020, the Perikatan Nasional coalition was formed and led by the eighth Prime Minister, Mahiaddin bin Md. Yasin. A period of political unrest followed the period of COVID-19 outbreak, eventually leading to the dissolution of Parliament on 10 October 2022, paving way for the upcoming 15th General Election (GE15). What does this mean for the nation and the people? Is this a sign of the end of democracy as many would claim? Or the start of a democratic reformation?

An old saying goes, “a day in politics is a very long time”. I hope that Elizabeth Truss will find solace in that saying. Her 50 days in office is the shortest in British history and when history tells its tale, she will not be remembered well. Number 10 is now inhabited by Rishi Sunak, the first British-Asian to hold the position. Mr Sunak, who lost the Tory Party leadership race to Ms Truss the previous month, inherits an economy with stubborn inflationary pressure, a fractured Tory party, and a low approval rating in the polls.