Crush Malaysia but save Siti Nurhaliza

Crush Malaysia but save Siti Nurhaliza

Farish A. Noor, Berlin

Try as they might, the racists, bigots and chauvinists in
Malaysia and Indonesia cannot deny the fundamental similarities
and connections shared by the peoples of both countries.

This fact was brought home when a fellow Indonesian academic-
activist based in Yogjakarta informed me that some of the radical
right-wing nationalist groups in Indonesia have taken to the
streets burning the Malaysian flag and chanting anti-Malaysian
slogans. But one of their slogans was "Ganyang Malaysia --
Selamatkan Siti Nurhaliza!" (Crush Malaysia -- But Save Siti
Nurhaliza!) Another popular slogan making its rounds is "Siti
Yes, Malaysia No". Blood (or culture), it would seem, is still
thicker than water (or crass ethno-nationalism in its diluted
form).

In the midst of the confusion and uncertainty, it would seem
that Siti has succeeded in doing what no Malaysian or Indonesia
politician of recent memory has been able to do: She has crossed
the political divide and been elevated to the status of a
transcendental signifier for a collective imagination that
exceeds the boundaries of nation-states.

At a time when post-structuralism is being discredited and
condemned for its critique of master narratives, Siti stands
apart and alone as an over-determined marker that can (and does)
mean all things to all people. So where is she when we need her
the most?

Whenever I find myself in Indonesia, I am struck by two
obvious things:

Firstly, there seems to be a peculiar ignorance of the common
history that both our countries share. Indonesians often forget
the fact that Malaysia's independence struggle -- up to 1948 at
least -- was carried out alongside that of Indonesia's, and that
scores of Malaysian nationalists, be they from the Communist or
the Nationalist camps, worked hand-in-hand with their Indonesian
counterparts.

Secondly, there is the obvious curiosity on the part of our
Indonesian brethren about all things Malaysian. My Indonesian
friends, contacts and the people I meet usually ask me about life
in Malaysia and how things are done (or not done) there. Often I
am asked the question: "why are the Malays of Malaysia so
enamored by the Arabs and why are they ashamed of their own Malay
identity?"

But the most startling discovery of late is the revelation
that Malaysia is loved and admired by our Indonesian friends for
one simple reason: Siti.

Now I have to admit that I haven't actually listened to any of
Miss Nurhaliza's songs, or know anything about her. I once
watched a video with her singing and sitting on a buffalo cart
that looked as if it was hastily assembled by the underpaid
special effects department of the Malaysian Tourism board.
However, the brand Siti Nurhaliza has become a phenomenal success
in Indonesia. So loved is she and her music, that even in the
madrasahs I have been asked by young Islamists: "do you have her
phone number?" To which I can only reply: "Get back to reading
the Koran and stop thinking of girls!"

The same question has been asked by Indonesian Islamists of
all shades and colors. They may take to the streets burning the
flag of the United States, call for jihad against the West,
demand the introduction of sharia law; but they all share one
common interest: They all want me to give them Siti's phone
number. Which I do not have, I swear.

What does this mean and how should we interpret this
admiration and longing for Cik Siti?

It is interesting to note that those who admire Siti seem to
do so for the same reasons: She is seen as a "nice, proper, well-
dressed and well-mannered" girl whom many a young nusantara male
might want to take home to introduce to his mother, or at least
send an SMS to.

Unlike the more hot-blooded and explosive performances of the
famous Indonesian dangdut superstar Inul, whose concerts have
received rave reviews after some Ulama ran amok thanks to the
ecstatic swinging of her hips -- and a few old dodgers kicked the
bucket when they got too exited -- Siti is seen as "good, clean,
entertainment" by all parties concerned.

Mothers don't complain when their sons put up posters of Siti
on their bedroom walls, and the ustadz doesn't complain when his
madrasah students listen to her music in secret at the back of
the mosque.

But more than her charm, looks and character, there is the
presentation of Siti that we need to consider. The factor that
tends to be bracketed out of the equation is the enormous
marketing talent that goes into selling the whole Siti product.

Here for once we see ASEAN ingenuity and local genius at its
best. Recognizing the potential of Siti for a wider Malaysian-
Indonesian market, her promoters have presented her as a truly
pan-ASEAN nusantara phenomenon. It is for this reason that Siti
sells so well in Indonesia, as she does in her home country.

In terms of her dress, behavior, choice of language, carriage
and demeanor, the Siti phenomenon is replete with empty
signifiers that can mean anything to anyone.

For the more conservative Islamists, her baju kurung is a
symbol of Muslim modesty and upright Muslim womanhood. For the
trendy urbanites, the fact that she does not wear a tudung
(headscarf) proves that she is an intelligent independent woman
in charge of her own destiny.

For young men she is the perfect date/fiance/wife and for
young women she is proof that ASEAN women can have a public
profile on their own terms.

The lesson to be learned from all this is that when it comes
to negotiating the differences between nation-states and
governments, we invariably need to fall back on an all-
encompassing narrative that is inclusive, general and relative.

While the diplomatic dispute over the Ambalat Block calls for
a diplomatic-political solution, it is nonetheless true that the
failure to create a common sense of Malaysian-Indonesian (and to
a greater extent Pan-ASEAN) destiny will undermine the basis of
ASEAN in the long run.

When angry young Indonesians say "Siti Yes, Malaysia No!",
they are rejecting the divisive logic of nation-state politics
while at the same time affirming the cultural continuities
between our two nations.

It is for that reason that we should not be too despondent,
and persevere nonetheless in our struggle to build a peoples'
ASEAN, by and for the peoples of ASEAN.

And for this we need cross-cultural, trans-national signifiers
that transcend political horizons. One of these signifiers is
right here. Her name is Siti, and she is the prototype of the new
ASEAN citizen.

The writer is a Malaysian political scientist and human rights
activist and can be reached at farishactivist@yahoo.co.uk