We all are, at some point, a racist person.
There were uncomfortably too many instances I’ve caught myself and the people I’ve interacted with double-checking if our car doors were locked whenever a Bangladeshi walked towards our car, murmuring “speak English” whenever we heard the Chinese having a splendid conversation in Mandarin, belittling a Malay’s advice when it comes to professional lives. Regardless of our denial, such habits are prominent in the hearts of Malaysians, homeland or abroad. Racism seems like our innate quality, although we boast of our multicultural, collective community whenever someone asks, “What is Malaysia?”.
Is it the fault of our education system?
Malaysians have made tremendous efforts to send their children to prestigious schools only to realise that modern education is based upon material institutions instead of ideals. Children are fed with information, but information alone does not guarantee accurate decisions. Knowing that not all Indians are evil is different from treating all Indians as good Samaritans. We know many things about our neighbours but seldom trust them to be the truth, consciously or subconsciously. Therefore, the issue of our education is that we fail to educate our children about trust; we lack the courage to encourage our children to trust one another.
But wait, can schools teach about trust?
The answer is no. Trust must only be discovered and resolved within one’s soul. It is impossible for a material institution to educate something that is un-transactory. The totality of my understanding of trust came from scenarios where I had no option but to trust the people around me. For instance, in January 2025, I was lost in the middle of nowhere in Scotland. I stood and walked around the roadsides, thinking of how to get back to Manchester. Suddenly, a Bangladeshi guy stopped by and offered to give me a ride since he was also going to Manchester. Well, our schools consistently pressured us about ‘stranger danger’ but I have no choice but to trust the man’s words. If you’re reading this essay, it is the proof that trust saved me. It is ironic that the very people I used to lock my car doors for is the one who opened his car door to help me. He treated me as a fellow human while I used to hold prejudice against people of his background. Above all, he trusted me despite any prevailing stereotypes Bangladeshis might have against the Malays. I shall return the favour moving forward.
Nevertheless, I would like to make it clear that navigating trust to combat racism can be a messy process. For all we know, I could have been kidnapped by the Bangladeshi and become past tense. However, experiences as such are the bridge between understanding and living the multicultural features of life. Experiences such as this make me believe people are people, not to be categorised by any label, such as race, skin colour, and religion. Racism propagates once we close ourselves from trusting the world. The individual who is the most locked on himself is the most in trouble.
So, should we trust everyone?
Malaysians trusted the government in 2020 when EPF withdrawals were allowed, and now we face a retirement crisis. At this point, there is no harm in exchanging trust with everyone. Jokes aside, there is indeed a fine line between trusting others and harming yourself. In the book Metamorphosis, Franz Kafka showed that even your family can betray you when things go south, as neither fear nor anger must be rational. I could say this: it is better to risk yourself to potential danger now than to scurry about finding who you can trust as disaster strikes. We should gradually exchange trust, exposing our vulnerable side little by little instead of believing we are superior to others.
We all are, at some point, a racist because we do not trust others, especially those who have a different label than us. The Malay only trusts the Malay, and so forth. I am not mad at the statement being true since humans are focused on identity and will cling to it. Our identity is what gives us fulfillment and prevents despair. Henceforth, the idea of ‘dissolving’ our identity by trusting others and expecting them to do the same certainly sounds like deluded thinking. Even game theory predicts that rational humans are likely to betray one another.
Despite that, I genuinely believe trust is the missing key to solving the problems of humanity called racism. Treating others any way you want is convenient when you are the majority, as power responds to you accordingly. But remember, we will not always be the majority, so we need to act appropriately. It is impossible to teach trust in classroom settings. Thus, I encourage you to put yourself out there where you lack the luxury to trust in yourself only. Perhaps by then, we will realise what the word people means. I welcome any discussion.
God bless,
Hakeem.
Writer’s Comment: The ‘random’ bold texts are intentional. They spell out ‘We only lost if we trust only the Malay’.
Featured Image — Symbolising Trust:
East and West German people celebrate the end of the cold war on top of the Berlin Wall, 10 November 1989. Photograph: Peter Horvath/REX/Shutterstock
