At the stroke of midnight...

To safeguard democracy, the people must have a keen sense of independence... Mohandas Gandhi
By Phlip Rodrigues
COMMENT At the stroke of midnight, the story changed. Once, it was all about the white master who held sway over this broad land. Now, the brown man is in charge and holds the destiny of the country in his hand. Once, the orang putih took much of the wealth back to the motherland. Now, the newly empowered natives control the purse string. Once, all the races did not notice their ethnic origins. Now, all live in distinct compartments. Once, there were no special places for anyone. Now, life revolves around percentages.
At the stroke of midnight, the plot changed. Then, the tuan was a commanding presence. Now, a different breed of titled players evoke dread – and hate – with their special status. Then, there was a sense of security even if you did not belong to the majority class. Now, ethnic minorities become the target of harassment and ridicule. Then, all could make light of each other's cultural peculiarities. Now, intolerance and bigotry take root. Then, farmers tilled the land, fishermen made their living off their catch, migrant workers mined the land and tapped the rubber trees – all in peace and amity. Now, gluttonous wheeler-dealers, instant moguls, corrupt officialdom straddle across the toiling, ill-paid masses.

At the stroke of midnight, the economy changed course. Before, agriculture was the main stay, and the country prospered to a certain extent. Today, big industry and big business are the rage but the people are left out in the cold. Before, the forests were left unmolested and the indigenous people could hunt undisturbed. Today, the trees are felled to enrich the few, but the true sons of the soil have nowhere to go. Before, there was no oil to fuel the country and make it richer. Today, black gold gushes out but billions of ringgit had disappeared into the black hole. Before, our natural resources were not fully tapped. Today, they are exploited to the hilt but all the wealth did not erase poverty.

At the stroke of midnight, education wore a new uniform. In yesteryears, discipline, quality, and merit were the order of the day. Nowadays, the spark of dedication is sorely missing and no one is proud of a school system gone haywire. In yesteryears, institutions of higher learning were hallowed ground that produced graduates of calibre. These days, they are a byword for rot and decay. In yesteryears, there was camaraderie all around. Nowadays, the atmosphere in the classes and on campuses is charged with hostility and enmity. Those years, outstanding results were highly appreciated. Nowadays, they are ignored and a pool of talent goes to waste.

At the stroke of midnight, our founding fathers swelled with pride: life would change for the better because we have become masters in our own house. We did not fire a single shot. The white rajahs took their flag down and left our shores in quiet dignity. We hoisted ours and left our past behind while we looked ahead. There were steady hands on the wheels.

But long past midnight, the course of history took a different path. It was not a route intended by the fighters for independence. The freedom we got was soon exchanged for another form of subservience. The homegrown tuans took control of all spheres of life. By degrees, they grew more powerful, antagonistic, spiteful, malicious. In politics, they control the government, and through the barrel of political power, they entrench themselves. It is a new ball game played on an uneven field.

From the stroke of midnight in 1957, the same party had been enjoying uninterruppted power for more than half a century. Logically, with each passing year, every step of the way should lead to better days. By now, the country should be standing taller and stronger than its peers. The script did not turn out that way. Drunk with power, blinded by greed, stricken with hubris, neck-deep in corruption, the ship of state that started out with so much promise and hope long years ago is limping to port. The only political totem pole we knew all these decades has become a detested sight.

At the stroke of midnight 53 years ago, we became free. The baton passed to our hands. We carried the torch aloft. The sun set on the British empire. A new dawn rose. We basked, we sang, we cheered, we cried for joy. Now the mood is muted. Dark clouds are gathering on the horizon. Troubled times are ahead. We wait for change, for democracy, for independence – yet again. If it comes at the stroke of midnight, it will eclipse the Merdeka story.

Phlip Rodrigues is FreeMalaysiaToday managing editor.