NOV 23 — In two days, it’d be 10 years since the Hindraf rally in Kuala Lumpur.
umnThe reinvention, reinterpretation and claim to ownership of the movement — which has a curious genesis — since, has left it weary if not lame.
It is difficult to recognise or appreciate its impact today, but on that last November Sunday of 2007, it was a thing of beauty.
It was intended to remind a distant crown of a debt, but ended up with an indebted local electorate. Malaysia’s political tectonic plates shifted inexorably and unseated a seemingly popular — if not, at least an affable — prime minister.
There were incessant institutional threats in the lead-up to rally day, with large-scale enforcement by police and therefore, chaos on the day. They put up roadblocks a hundred metres from my home to discourage participants.
Around midday, it felt as if the worst was over when organisers asked the thousands — on the Jalan Ampang stretch from KLCC to the intersection of Jalan Tun Razak — to sit as representatives apparently will proceed past the police barricade to the entrance of the British High Commission.
Hours of being corralled in the city, in a game of cat and mouse with sporadic tear gas and water-cannons was seemingly arriving to a conclusion.
I was with Allan, and we ended in no-man’s land. Neither with the protestors nor the police, just between them as to get a better view of the embassy.
I foolishly thought: “Alright, they wanted to hand the memorandum and they are metres away from the high commission. They’d walk over, pass it over and shake hands. It’s done.”
That’s when a series of clanks went off. They were raining tear gas cannisters everywhere. It turned dark quickly as smoke permeated from the ground. It was pandemonium. And it was time to run.
Allan had the best cover, he was not Indian. I was not Chinese, or any other hue for that matter, and I was a valid target. There were police from all sides, and I bolted for the mall. It was hard to breathe, even more so when in sprint, and I found a small entrance to what is now the Intermark. Through the day, they locked down KL and every protester was to be in plain sight, so he or she can be handled.
I avoided being handled by a whisker.
What was Hindraf, and why did thousands of people converge in the city centre on that fateful day?
The day before
I was on the phone talking to Tate. He had principle objections to the next-day rally. Standing on my lawn, listening to his admonishment of the whole enterprise, it was easy to agree.
A collection of fringe leaders in political parties had mounted dissatisfaction over the treatment of Indians over the last century at least, in the country. First by the imperial British, and then the new political overlords of the independent nation.
Other than the US$4 trillion (RM16 trillion) demanded from the British for abandoning the ethnic Indians here, they wanted a slew of state funding, allocation and quotas for their community, which smelled of privilege cloaked in different language and irrational.
Though, for the tens of thousands who showed up — exceeding the first Bersih rally’s numbers, which I attended with Tate — it was about pride. A statement of how Indians felt about their lot in conjunction with the 50th anniversary of the independence they signed on to.
It was less about the details, and more about the yearning for a better tomorrow from Malaysians who’ve not had the best Malaysian experience and would like to record their opposition to the treatment. Those, who want it better for their children.
The ask was much, but it did not mask how short the government has come in redressing the malaise confronting a Malaysian segment.
Key leaders V. Ganabatirao, K. Vasantha Kumar, R. Kenghadharan, M. Manoharan and P. Uthayakumar were arrested prior, and eventually incarcerated for almost a year and a half. Hundreds were arrested on rally day, in the city and in the Batu Caves temple compound.
The government’s reprisal was intense and relentless, almost as if they were appalled and slighted that local Indians managed to organise themselves.
The aftermath
An immediate swing in the 2008 General Election, held just over three months after the rally, shocked both sides of the political divide. Penang, Kedah, Perak and Selangor fell to the opposition.
The percentage Indian votes west of the Titiwangsa Range is substantial but far from a majority in any seat.
However, for five decades, they have been a solid voting bloc for the ruling coalition. That ended on March 8, 2008.
It began a practice of appeasement in the direction of ethnic Indians. It became necessary to spell out benefits, even if small, and campaign on them.
The vote is now not taken for granted.
Barisan Nasional (BN) may win the majority of parliamentary seats nationally, however to retain moral fortitude to govern, coalition-leading Umno has to prevail in Peninsular Malaysia. Which is half and half — half Malay heartland battles against PAS, or Bersatu too, and the other half, mixed seats with Indian votes.
Umno can ill-afford to have fewer seats than all the Borneo BN parties accumulated — mindful, the Sabah Umno seats are weighed in the East Malaysia side of the scale.
Ideally for Umno, having more than half of the parliamentary seats won by BN is critical for political superiority.
And finally, it ended the Malaysian Indian Congress’ (MIC) communal boast of being able to monopolise the community. Even when working-class/lower-caste Indian Progressive Front emerged, it did not trouble MIC.
Hindraf knocked the front teeth of the party.
Today, there are a slew of Indian parties. Some Indian parties are committed to BN, as are others to the opposition.
Claims of control are considered premature, and it contributes to the fluid nature of modern Malaysian politics.
The forks
What does it mean for the future? As in for Hindraf as a movement, the general Indian vote and the parties associated with it.
The murky “custodial” battles have rendered Hindraf as a temporary consciousness during its time with long term ramifications in the present and foreseeable future.
A movement and political party are separate creatures even if the latter commonly starts with the former. Which is why Hindraf inspired parties but then its leaders proceeded to be flummoxed by the burdens of management.
A party needs political vision, policy basis and leadership hierarchy. A single issue party self-limits itself.
Hindraf should have remained a single issue movement where leaders from all parties can associate themselves with it so as to exhibit their sentiments for community empowerment.
There are similar examples.
Umno, PAS, PKR, Bersatu and Amanah have members who remain linked to their external organisations and movements like ABIM, The 4B Youth Movement, Malaysian Youth Council, Ikram and even Perkasa.
Membership in the National Association for the Advancement of Coloured People (NAACP) does not negate African Americans’ commitment to the Democratic or Republican parties.
It’s worth reinvesting in the general values Hindraf promotes so that that it sustains its potential as a social equaliser. It can be a source for political solutions without being straightjacketed as a political party.
Shared conviction
I emerged back onto the main avenue as policemen, protesters and a sliver of neutral observers, were busy gathering themselves and regrouping in pockets out of the clash zone. It was self evident things were set to be different from that day.
All participants were spent.
But the conversations were lively and determined. A convenient idleness was ruptured and the angst and disappointment of generations passed on and carried by those present rushed to the top, to the collective consciousness of the people.
It changed the way politics was done. It changed the value of the vote, and for that it matters till today. It will continue to matter.
* This is the personal opinion of the columnist.
