Author Archives: wcw

Smear campaign serving


Beautiful diversity: Today, there are 25 million Muslims living in China. Here, Muslim devotees are praying at the Nanxiapo Mosque in Beijing to celebrate Hari Raya Aidilfitri. — The Star

The US has found the world order quickly shifting and is feeling uneasy with the challenge from China.

THE legend of Admiral Zheng He (more commonly known as Cheng Ho to most Malaysians) has always fascinated me, being a history student with Peranakan roots in Penang.

In fact, I took the opportunity to travel to Nanjing, China, to pay respects to the great man at his tombstone.

The only snag was, Zheng He’s resting place remains a mystery, he who led historic voyages to South-East Asia and eastern Africa.

His remains have never been found, leading many to believe he received his final rites at sea during his last voyage, sometime in 1433.

But Zheng He is not a Uighur (pronounced as wee ger). He was from the Hui ethnic group, which comprises Muslims.

The history of Islam in China goes back more than a staggering 1,300 years.

While Zheng He is probably one of the most famous Muslims, there were others during the Ming rule, Muslim military generals including Mu Ying, Hu Dahai, Lan Yu, Feng Sheng and Ding Dexing.

There was also the famous Confucian Muslim scholar, Ma Zhu, who served during the Ming dynasty. The name Ma is the Chinese counterpart to Muhammad.

Today, there are 25 million Muslims living in China. The Hui is the largest group (48%), followed by the Uighur (41%), and together, they make up about 90% of the total Muslim population. The other Muslims include Kazakh (6,1%) and Dongxiang (2.5%), followed by the Kyrgyz, Uzbek, Salar, Tajik, Bonan and Tatar groups. They live mostly in Xinjiang, Gansu, Qinghai and Yunnan, and even in Beijing and Xian.

My trips to China have taken me to Xinjiang by air, road and train, where I spent weeks meeting these beautiful ethnic minorities.

I travelled on the Silk Road and tried imagining how ancient traders treaded the same path. Famed Italian merchant, Marco Polo, probably used the same route in the 13th Century to look for spices, silk and carpets.

My journey took me across the Taklamakan desert on long overnight trains to Turpan (or the Flaming Mountains), the setting of the famous Chinese novel Journey to the West, of the Monkey God fame.

The trip concluded in Urumqi, the capital of Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region in the far northwest of China.

Urumqi was a major hub on the Silk Road during the Tang Dynasty’s golden age, and today, it has one of the world’s largest bazaars.

Walking through the markets reminded me of the souq in the Middle East, being surrounded by the blue-eyed Uighur and their distinct Turkish looks, while blonde Russians, all speaking Mandarin, were among the other Chinese. It was an exotic place, indeed.

As a “banana” (a term describing a Western-educated Chinese with Western world views, and can’t speak Mandarin), I was lucky to have scholars from Universiti Malaya explain the historical and academic aspects of China.

I have also travelled to Xian, where China’s ancient capital, Chang’an, is located. It was home to more than 10 dynasties.

It was a delight for me to step into the mosques and immerse in local Muslim culture. Islam has long been part of Xian history, where the terracotta soldiers stand guard.

But today, Xinjiang is in the international news for all the wrong reasons. Damaging words, including genocide, have been hurled at it. The grim and gruesome word means killing many people from an ethnic group with the aim of wiping it out.

There is little evidence, if at all, to prove genocide, but it’s such a strong emotive word that it recalls the Holocaust and Khmer Rouge killing fields in Cambodia.

The Xinjiang cotton fields are alleged to have practised forced labour, even though it’s common knowledge that machines are required for large scale productions. There have also been accusations of rape.

Nothing is spared in the mind games between the two superpowers (US and China) to discredit each other.

Reports on the issue have come thick and fast from CNN and BBC, almost on a daily basis, in fact.

It’s hard to ignore that since the protests in Hong Kong began, they have become more involved in instigative journalism than investigative journalism.

Since the racist campaign by Donald Trump, where China was blamed for the spread of the coronavirus, Americans and many ill-informed Westerners have looked at ethnic Asians – especially those with Chinese features – negatively.

They have lumped all Orientals together as Chinese, just like how some think turbaned Sikhs with beards must be Taliban.

Now, under the Biden Administration, there is little difference, except perhaps Joe is less antagonistic, though the anti-China sentiments remain.

From the coronavirus to Huawei, and Tik Tok through to purported spy scholars and the South China Sea, and now Xinjiang cotton, it has become a concerted campaign.

We all know the US has little love for Muslims anywhere in the world.

The US has dropped enough bombs in Iraq, Syria, Libya, Afghanistan, as well as imposed sanctions against Iran, to substantiate that claim. The US has also turned a blind eye to the plight of the Palestinians.

These assaults were launched on the pretext of destroying weapons of mass destruction owned by the Saddam Hussein and Muammar Gaddafi regimes, though we now know fact from fiction.

While the two weren’t angels (but more dictators), the fanatical Islamic State took over after the two were deposed and worsened the situation.

Now, the attention is China. It’s the perfect villain – communist rule, no elections and a campaign against Muslims in Xinjiang.

Most Americans can neither pronounce Xinjiang nor point it out on a map, although that seems a moot point to them.

The truth is, the US is jittery because its dominance is over. The world order has changed.

While the US was busy executing its campaign in the name of upholding human rights and western values, and burning trillions of dollars on arsenal, the Chinese spent the last decades building their nation and eradicating poverty.

No one should be surprised when China overtakes the US in the world economy. It didn’t happen overnight, though.

Beijing, Shanghai, Shenzhen and Guangzhou may not be representative of the whole of China, especially compared to third-tier cities and rural areas, but credit where it’s due for the absence of homeless colonies in the cities.

As a Malaysian who has regularly visited China, I feel poor whenever I’m there. The glitzy skyscrapers, efficient transport system, low crime rate, affluence and orderly city administration has shown that China has certainly arrived.

The Chinese have become visibly wealthier and sophisticated, and while their tendency to flaunt their wealth rubs many the wrong way, they have simply become what the early rich Americans used to be. The rich Chinese are loud and brash, but along the way, they – just like the Americans did then – will change.

Rather than demonise China and its people, the US could do well with promoting its values, many of which are universal in nature, such as the rule of law, protecting individual rights, improving living standards and driving the engine of innovation.

The US remains the preferred destination for most people seeking migration.

The immigrants, including Muslims who refused to integrate, could have chosen Saudi Arabia, Iran, Qatar, Kuwait or Senegal, but they picked the US.

We embrace American culture and its lifestyle, especially Hollywood movies, Disneyland, burgers, Coca- Cola and music. That speaks volumes of how most of us admire the US.

While the Chinese are now at a stage where they are content with growth and material wealth, they will eventually question issues like environment, inequality and self-suffrage, when they find themselves without a safety net.

The expansion of the middle class has always been similar all over the world. When the stomach and pockets are full, people have time to talk about democratic ideals.

But for now, the chaos and destruction in Hong Kong and racism in the US have given reason for China, and Chinese all over the world, to push back, or even detest the aggressive campaign by the US. This is nothing more than blatant bullying.

It isn’t fair play, unlike what the US claims, because there’s clearly a lack of respect for competition.

We all believe “democracy is the worst system of government, except for everything else, ” as Winston Churchill said. It’s loud and messy, as we know, but power is more diffused in democracy, where it’s equally shared through the population, as James Stavridis, a retired US Navy admiral put it.

The Xinjiang campaign will come back to haunt the US. Unlike other Muslims in China, the Uighur have indulged in ISIS activities, including being actively involved in Syria, where many combatants are members of an Al Qaeda offshoot.

Reuters and Associated Press have reported of at least 5,000 Uighur in ISIS operating in Syria and Iraq.

Many of them from the outlawed Turkistan Islamic Party, are pushing for an Islamic state in Xinjiang, which China surely won’t tolerate.

That perhaps explains why China takes a different approach to the Uighur compared to other Muslims, though these actions remain open to debate.

But here’s the irony – while the US and its western allies are busy drumming up the issue, the powerful Muslim countries led by Saudi Arabia, along with 36 other countries, have defended China’s policies in Xinjiang in a letter released in 2019.

The world is not keen on getting entangled in an escalating trade war between the US and China.

We want both countries to work together, if they really believe and practise what they preach to the rest of us, the minion nations. And if they do, the world stands to benefit immeasurably.

From Stage to Lens with Peter Ong

 

Fighting Cartels with Iskandar Ismail

 

Apparently, honourable individuals are rolling off the assembly line these days


Keeping track: Council of Federal Datuks Malaysia president Datuk Awalan Abdul Aziz showing the special card issued to people conferred Datukship titles by the Yang DiPertuan Agong at a press conference on March 8. There have been calls to have a digital registry where the status and authenticity of titles can be verified. — AZHAR MAHFOF/ The Star

HARDLY a week goes by without a titled person – usually a Datuk or a Datuk Seri – landing in hot water.

This time around, the police are hunting for a 33-year-old, wanted for his alleged involvement in a money laundering and commercial syndicate.

Malaysians must be wondering how on earth a young man, barely into his second decade of work, could be awarded such an honour, whether at state or national level.

Well, he isn’t the only one. More and more young people have such honorific titles because some states don’t impose an age limit on recipients.

Some states seem more generous in awarding these titles and medals.

This doesn’t look like it’s just an alarming situation, but more a critical one, unless there’s an understanding to impose some form of moratorium or quota on titles awarded each year by states, and at national level.

In a 2002 article, Tan Sri Johan Jaaffar said that in 2001, 650 titles were given out. He took an average of 600 per year, so in a span of 19 years, there were 11,400 Datukship awarded.

I wouldn’t be surprised if there are more!

There’s nothing wrong with the system because it has a rich tradition going back to the Malay sultanate system, but over recent decades, it has lost its lustre and credibility, too.

The perception among many Malaysians is that such titles are for sale.

Even if this feeling can’t be substantiated, that is unfortunately what many Malaysians generally think of titled persons.

To everyday Malaysians, many of these people haven’t done enough, or anything at all, for the betterment of society.

The two most outspoken Rulers – the Sultans of Selangor and Johor – have openly expressed their views, or more precisely, dismay, on the situation.

Kudos must be accorded to the Sultan of Pahang for revoking the Datuk title of several people recently.

In the case of Datuk Seri Nicky Liow Soon Hee, he has become an instant household name for all the wrong reasons.

He’s now a fugitive with two investigation papers opened on him by Johor police under the Anti-Money Laundering Act (Amla) and the Security Offences (Special Measures) Act 2012 (Sosma).

He was arrested for assaulting two Rela members on duty at the Kou Ong Yah temple in Kuala Lumpur four years ago. He was later acquitted and discharged.

His modus operandi, probably to impress his clients or business associates, appears to be getting photographed with VVIPs, especially ministers and top police officers, to imply he’s close to these powerful figures.

It doesn’t help that our VVIPs are mostly easily accessible and generous with having their pictures taken with almost anyone to avoid being accused of snobbery.

So red faces abounded last week when many of his pictures with VVIPs went viral. Someone in a photo even called me to say he has no personal relationship with the wanted man.

There were other pictures of him in a room, framed against a stunning KL skyline, and cut with a stylish pose with a luxury car to suggest a man of great wealth.

He has arrived, and as Johan said, so has the Malaysian Dream – to have a title to gain instant respect in society and, sometimes, to reap the rewards of impunity.

Of course, Nicky isn’t the first with a questionable reputation to earn a Datuk title.

Credit to him, he hasn’t been charged or convicted. However, there have been cases where persons with criminal records were those with titles.

It simply means the vetting process by the selection committee has failed miserably because the police, Malaysian Anti-Corruption Agency, and other agencies, should be consulted for background info and financial status.

There’s obviously a demand for titles, and it has reached the point where Malaysians are prepared to buy dubious awards from purported royalties from southern Philippines. Never mind if these titles are worthless.

Then there are also Datuk impersonators, who will now get the book thrown at them for such stunts.

There are calls to have a digital registrar like the National Regis-tration Department’s, where the status and authenticity of titles can be verified.

Many titled Malaysians who have worked hard to earn honour, be it as long-serving civil servants, the police and army personnel, businessmen, community leaders, academicians, professionals and sportsmen, are obviously unhappy about those who don’t deserve it yet. Honour, as the saying goes, must be earned.

No wonder many Malaysians think that the real Datuks are grandfathers who have little ones to hold and care for in the family. Truth be told, that’s the real Malaysian dream.

Economy SOS


Kickstarting the economy: As Malaysia opens up and work from home comes to an end, many busy urbanites need domestic workers’ help around the house as well as to care for their kids or elderly parents. — 123rf.com

TIMES are dire, but the good news is the price of crude palm oil has at least gone up, offering a ray of hope for economic recovery. It’s at a 13-year high, and while there are reports claiming sustaining it would be difficult, the point is that there are reasons to rejoice because it has finally climbed.

The price of brent crude oil is also expected to rise throughout April, according to forecasts.

We know how important these two sectors are to Malaysia, but we need to address some serious concerns.

Palm oil plantations are struggling with the shortage of foreign labour with no one to harvest the fruits.

We must let foreign workers return if Malaysia wants to retain its position as a global palm oil producer.

The Sarawak government has allowed foreign labour back into the state since March 1, but that isn’t so elsewhere.

The directive from the Sarawak government is simple – employers are responsible for adhering to the mandatory two-week quarantine for their workers, and the administration of Covid-19 tests.

We can imagine the frustrations of planters, unable to fully exploit the current high CPO price because they can’t optimise production in their estates.

According to a report, a pre-MCO survey by the Malaysian Palm Oil Board (MPOB) indicated a shortage of 31,021 harvesters among respondents, which covered 76% of the industry.

Based on a conservative productivity estimate per harvester of 1.5 tonnes fresh fruit bunch (FFB) a day, and 280 working days a year, crop loss amounts to almost 20% in yield.“This in turn translates to a loss in production of 3.429 million tonnes of crude palm oil (CPO) and 857,000 tonnes of palm kernel (PK) a year. Assuming CPO and PK prices of RM3,000 and RM1,800 per tonne respectively, the opportunity loss amounts to an estimated RM11.83bil of revenue a year. Income tax revenue loss to the government is estimated at RM896 million a year, ” according to a joint press statement issued recently by 12 associations representing the interests of the Malaysian palm oil supply chain.

The plantation sector has a good argument because its workers operate in a rural set-up amidst an expansive landscape, so the nature of their work assures built-in social distancing.

This is unlike crowded factories in urban areas.

Obviously, we need maids again. As Malaysia opens up and work from home comes to an end, most of us will return to our workplace and invariably leave our home affairs in the lurch.

The process and preparations need to begin now so that we can conduct Covid-19 tests on these foreign domestic workers as a prerequisite for their return to Malaysia.

Most working couples are now relying on cleaners rather than stay-home maids to clean their homes, and busy urbanites also need help for caring for their kids or elderly parents.

The re-start has to begin now, since movement restrictions are being eased and more businesses are resuming.

For starters, the Immigration Department and Health Ministry must consolidate the standard operating procedures to enable maids to return.

Obviously, employers struggling with the problem are just as concerned with the health status of their maids.

Certainly, these domestic workers coming from their countries need to undergo a minimum seven-day quarantine at a designated hotel, which is paid for either by the recruitment agencies or the employers.

Each maid will surely need to take a Covid-19 test at their respective country before flying here, and if need be, go through another round of tests before completing quarantine.

Restaurants which have resumed business are now looking for staff, too.

Malaysia needs to start welcoming these guest workers. It’s bad enough that our country isn’t their preferred working destination since we don’t offer the most attractive wages, and our ringgit isn’t the most sought after either.

Let’s be frank. You only need to ask domestic workers what’s on their mind.

Still, Malaysia offers much work opportunity in kickstarting its economy. So, we could do with the help of our guest workers. In fact, we’re desperate.

Datukship Overload

 

Man with Nine Lives with David Gurupatham

 

Born to Smile with Nora Abu Hassan

 

A place called home



First office: Members of a chingay team demonstrating their skill with the Star flag outside the newspaper’s rented building in Weld Quay in Penang where the tabloid was launched in 1971.

I HAD just completed my Sixth Form and was waiting for my university application results. The year was 1980 and admission into one of the five public universities was uncertain.

When I turned up for an interview for a cadet reporter position – the lowest ranking post – at The Star in Pitt Street (now Jalan Masjid Kapitan Keling), Penang, I was met by the boyish looking H’ng Hung Yong.

He was an Oxford law graduate with an arts degree from Harvard University. As a fellow Xavierian, I had looked up to him while becoming an avid reader of The Star from school days.

For a school-leaver attending his first real job interview, I was pleasantly surprised that H’ng dealt with me personally. He was then the managing director and editor-in-chief.

“So, you are the guy who sends letters to the editor?” he asked, looking up from the file containing my many letters to The Star as a reader.

I was then made to take a test at the conference room next to his office.

I struggled to process a press statement and fumbled with a test on my general knowledge. My confidence nose-dived initially. I didn’t know how to use a typewriter, and neither did I know how to write a simple news article.

Yet, I got the job.

Soon, I learned how to pound on the typewriter fast and furiously with a finger from each hand, and how to keep my news pieces short and precise, all soundtracked to the judicious swearing from then news editor Oh Kee Tiang.

He wore short pants with socks almost reaching his knees to work every day. That was the standard wear of the Australian servicemen at the Royal Australian Air Force base in Butterworth.


Leading the way: Choong was the paper’s first managing director and editor-in-chief.

It was my first “tour of duty” at The Star. I served for about six months until I received a letter from Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia offering me a place.

I had to provide a 24-hour notice but the timing couldn’t have been worse. The newsroom was in a state of emergency because an entertainment writer from the Kuala Lumpur office predicted a “boring weekend ahead” in the TV page when describing a Quran reading competition scheduled to be broadcast on RTM.

Back then, there was only RTM1 and RTM2, and no TV3 or Astro. The national broadcaster had also just switched from black and white to colour transmission.

The government was upset by the endless complaints from individuals and organisations.

It wouldn’t be the last time The Star would run into trouble with the government, especially the powerful Home Ministry.

But at that point, chairman Tunku Abdul Rahman simply told the staff not to worry and that he needed to have his afternoon nap first before he settled the matter. This was relayed to me by the late Tan Sri Kamal Hashim, a director of the daily.

And with that, I left the newsroom, but not without a heavy heart.

I knew then The Star would be my home for life.

In 1984, I returned to the publication on the day after I sat for my final exam at UKM. Happily, Ng Poh Tip (who went on to become The Star’s first woman group chief editor) accepted me.

The Star was also an alumni group for Xavierians. There were accusations that we, or Penangites at least, were preferred for employment. At their meetings, editors would even frequently break into northern Hokkein.

As rosy as things may have seemed, the company was struggling financially, though.


Role model: H’ng was the paper’s managing director and editor-in-chief in 1980.

It was worse in the 1970s when the directors had to dig into their own pockets for funds.

It’s common knowledge that tycoons like the late Tan Sri Loh Boon Siew were frequently sought for assistance – mostly to pay the salaries of staff.

At one point, Choong Kok Swee, who founded The Star, had to sell off his beautiful home at the lavish Jesselton Heights, and even borrowed money from his brother to meet the financial demands.

The situation was the same when I joined in 1980. When I was sent to KL for training, my colleagues and I had to stay at the Universiti Malaya hostel when the students there were on their semester break. Naturally, there was no budget for hotel accommodation.

Most of the pioneer staff eventually left for better paying jobs in rival papers.

Reporters hired by the cash-strapped newspaper were required to buy their own typewriters. And if new pens were requested, old ones had to be turned in first, almost as proof. It was clearly a tightly-run ship.

Still, it was a badge of honour to be a Star journalist. We came up with page one exclusive stories almost every week.

But under the stewardship of Choong in 1977, when The Star was just six years old, it outsold the 132-year-old Straits Times (by then The New Straits Times) in Penang.

KS Choong, as he was affectionately known, was a news editor with the Penang bureau’s Associated Press, a reporter with The Straits Echo, as well as a press attache to the Malayan Embassy in Washington DC as the First Secretary (information).

According to researcher Lilian Tan, Choong chose the name The Star after seeking inspiration from The Washington Star and other examples, including The Sun and The Daily Mirror from Britain.

The brief was for it to be a lively, sensational and easy to read tabloid – unlike the traditional broadsheet.

According to her, the masthead design and application for a printing licence was sent to the Home Ministry in April 1969. The Star was expected to break even in five years from then.

However, a month later, the racial riots of May 13 broke out. Emergency was declared and so, The Star had to wait it out.

This gave Choong time to recruit some of the best journalists, including big names like K. Sugumaran – who was the first news editor of The Star.


Finally, in April 1971, the permit arrived, but Choong couldn’t get it off the printing presses until six months later.

The office was a four-storey shop at 62, Weld Quay. Without Choong’s insight and vision to bring a new kind of journalism to Malaysia, The Star wouldn’t have existed.

It was not an easy time for the newspaper to emerge because Penang was dominated by The Straits Times and the home-grown Straits Echo, but finally, The Star debuted on Thursday, Sept 9,1971.

It was also Choong’s birthday, though the date was merely a coincidence.

Free copies were distributed, while some priced at 15 cents were sold.

Prior to that, there were many failed attempts to print the first copy. One evening, Datuk Zaman Khan (now Tan Sri), who was the OCPD of Penang, turned up at the newsroom.

He recalled many people lamenting Mana boleh hidup? (How will we pull through?) as they looked at workers manually putting the pages together.

Eventually, the paper made it to print.

“News editor Sugu and his team saw the sun come up the next day. At 6am, they staggered out of the building, headed for the Craven A nasi kandar for breakfast and went home to sleep after working non-stop for almost 16 hours (they would be back at work in seven hours),” Tan’s research revealed.

Over 15,000 copies of the 28-page inaugural issue were sold that day.

Straits Echo, with an estimated circulation of 6,000, was beaten on The Star’s very first day.

A part of The Star’s attraction was pictures of women in swimsuits. However, the Home Ministry soon sent warning letters. The page three pictures were “deemed to be prejudicial to public morality”.

By November 1975, there was no more “beach beat” for male reporters.

Still, those were exciting times.

The Star, which will turn 50 years old, has been my home. And like with all households, there have been ups and downs. There have been good bosses, horrible ones, and also, inspiring reporters who taught me how to be a good storyteller.

PK Katharason, NV Raman, Gobind Rudra, Nizam Mohamad, Kalimullah Hassan, Wong Sulong, Anna Cheah and others were all good teachers.

PK, who has retired and resides in Japan, will be remembered as a legendary reporter for having delivered the most number of exclusives, including the Bank Bumiputra Finance scandal in 1983, the Kuantan Port fiasco in 1979 and the purchase of light tanks costing RM50mil which could not be used in 1984.

It was a lesson to me – it is not the number of stories that a reporter writes but the number of big exclusives that matters.

Like any other company, it has made good profits, and sometimes, losses, too.

The Star has been my only employer and I have served over 36 years. It has given me every opportunity by starting from the bottom and elevating to be the group editor in chief and managing director and chief executive officer. The Star has been my life. It isn’t just my home but every Malaysian has a place at The Star.

To this day, The Star reaches out to the homes of millions of Malaysians every day through a variety of platforms. It has become a Malaysian institution and will likely stay that way for a long while more.