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