FINALLY, there’s some sense of rationality. Home Minister Datuk Seri Saifuddin Nasution Ismail has announced, rightly, that the Home Ministry is in the midst of revoking the ban on the memoir of Shamsiah Fakeh, a former communist.
It is hard to comprehend how a book, which has been in circulation for nearly 20 years, is suddenly deemed dangerous and banned.
The book was first published in 2004 by Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia (UKM), one of the country’s premier universities, and not by an ordinary one-man show non-governmental organisation.
Shamsiah was a prominent nationalist leader and a member of the Communist Party of Malaya (CPM), who lived in exile in China for many years.
Finally in 1994, following the 1989 peace agreement signed between the CPM and the government of Malaysia in Thailand, permission was granted for her return with her family.
The feminist and leader of a women’s organisation, AWAS (Angkatan Wanita Sedar), died in 2008 following years of poor health at the age of 84.
Her granddaughter Jamaliah Jamaluddin, from DAP, is serving as the Bandar Utama assemblyman and Selangor state executive councillor.
UKM has rightly interviewed the prominent CPM Malay woman leader, who had returned home, by filling the gaps of history through its series of oral history exercises.
It does not matter whether we agree with her political inclinations, but history should never be the victor’s version.
As academics, UKM had a chance to listen to a CPM leader and to record what she had to say.
It is odd that only the Bahasa Malaysia version of Shamsiah’s book was banned, according to reports.
But a check online showed that the Malay version is still readily available. The reality is that many books, which were banned or are still banned, can be found with a simple click.
From The Communist Manifesto by Frederich Engels and Karl Marx to Mao Zedong’s The Little Red Book and the Malay version of the Bible, they are freely available to be read and downloaded.
It makes a mockery of any decision to ban Shamsiah’s book, with Saifuddin Nasution saying the book-banning process had led him to “fire fight” as he had only learned about the ban after enforcement had taken place.
The other two books banned by officials were Komrad ASI (Rejimen 10): Dalam Denyut Nihilisme Sejarah written by Aziz Suriani and Mao Zedong: China dalam Dunia Abd ke-20, a translation of a book by Rebecca E. Karl.
Shamsiah’s book is not the only published works on former CPM leaders, many of whom have passed away or are in the last lap of their lives.
Others include Memoir Rashid Maidin: Daripada Perjuangan Bersenjata Kepada Perdamaian (2005), Memoir Abdullah CD: Zaman Pergerakan Sehingga 1948 (2005) and Memoir Suriani Abdullah: Setengah Abad Dalam Perjuangan (2006), all published by Strategic Information Research Development (SIRD).
Kudos must go to the Cabinet for deciding to act against the Home Ministry ban following its meeting, as it is an affirmation of intellectual maturity and historical confidence.
Malaysia is no longer haunted by the ghosts of dead communists.
Communist China is a close friend of and big investor in Malaysia; and let’s be truthful – the Chinese mainlanders have long embraced capitalism.
That the memoir could exist quietly for 20 years before being deemed objectionable suggests it is less a genuine threat than an uneasy relationship with our own past.
It also exposed a recurring dilemma in governance: when enforcement appears arbitrary or delayed, it risks eroding the credibility of the very institutions tasked with safeguarding public interest.
By reversing the ban, Saifuddin Nasution has signalled a more measured and pragmatic approach.
It reflects an understanding that Malaysians today are better equipped – educationally, socially and politically – to engage with complex and even controversial chapters of history without fear of being unduly influenced or misled.
This is not the Malaysia of decades past, when information was scarce and narratives tightly controlled. Today’s citizens navigate a far more open information ecosystem, where ideas compete and are tested in the court of public opinion.
To some, Shamsiah is part of a painful chapter linked to the communist insurgency and the sacrifices of security forces and civilians alike. To others, she represents a personal story shaped by ideology, struggle and exile.
Allowing her memoir to be read does not legitimise her political stance; rather, it recognises that history is rarely one-dimensional.
For younger Malaysians in particular, access to such materials offers an opportunity to better understand the ideological currents and human experiences that shaped the country. It encourages them to ask questions, to compare narratives and to appreciate the sacrifices that underpin the peace and stability they enjoy today.
But meanwhile, Saifuddin Nasution still has to await the advice of the Attorney General’s Chambers, although it may seem like a minor administrative procedure.
The real threat to Malaysia isn’t dead communists, but racial and religious extremists and corrupt leaders.
They are the ones that need the attention of the authorities.
