MANY years ago, a friend persuaded me to give meditation a try. While sitting up straight, eyes closed and mind focused on repetitive chants were a challenge, I learned something new. Anger is a low-vibrating, negative energy. Being grounded, calm, and zen-like was the ultimate aim.
In retrospect, while I understand this could very well be true in a spiritual sense, collective anger, humiliation and frustration are the fuel for fundamental transformations in societies.
Whether it’s the drumbeat of pots and pans in Myanmar, India’s forgotten freedom fighters such as Aruna Asaf Ali, the man who stood before a military tank in China or the Ukrainians who refuse to budge from their homeland, intense emotions push people to go beyond themselves to fight against injustice.
As a little boy, I heard about collective anger against the Japanese Occupation from my grandmother. She was soft-spoken and all-loving so it was difficult to visualise her rage.
“It’s the good kind of anger against violence, impunity and for our rights,” she assured me.
I had seen the outcome of such anger while growing up, from the time I was organising workers as a teenager to the events that unfolded when I entered politics.
In 2018, peoples’ collective anger brought UMNO to its knees and over the last year, this anger has grown in intensity amongst the young people.
We have seen collective emotions clash with acts of impunity. Young people have used social media, memes and street protests to speak truth to power.
Despite threats and intimidation, they took to the streets demanding the resignation of Azam Baki after a whistle-blower exposed that the Malaysian Anti-Corruption Commission (MACC) chief owned shares in two companies that breached civil service rules that bar officials from owning more than RM100,000 in any company.
Fahmi Reza calls out corruption and the abuse of power despite the never-ending investigations against him as well as the charges piled upon him.
Young activists actively question the 10 deaths in police custody in these last two months.
They are frustrated at increasing food prices, job and income losses, a fast-sliding economy, political instability and a Government that is incapable of addressing any of these issues.
A few hundred kilometres from Kuala Lumpur, we see impunity on display once more or in this case a politician who has acted with impunity by stretching himself into the lives of Johoreans.
Former prime minister Datuk Seri Najib Razak has fashioned himself as the beloved leader. His social media handles have nauseating pictures of himself ingrained into the different communities, campaigning for UMNO in the upcoming state elections.
It’s ironic, isn’t it that while a mum who stole milk powder ends up in prison, this convicted felon plays saviour?
But for how long would he be able to dupe the voters? Through how many more power struggles would UMNO stay corrupt? How many more activists jailed by the system would it take to dismantle the abuse of powers?
30% of Johor’s 2.4 million voters are under 21. I feel an enormous sense of relief knowing that these young voters would be able to “speak the language” of Johoreans and help them see through the false promises and empty words and to sieve out the inner motivations of political longevity at whatever cost.
This thought alone makes me hopeful that our work would continue beyond ourselves, by young people who believe things could change for the better in our country. – March 6, 2022
Charles Santiago is the MP for Klang.
The views expressed are solely of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of Focus Malaysia.
