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Living in Kasar Times

Living in Kasar Times
by Farish A. Noor

Its quite rare for a talcum-powdered, linen-clad bloke like me to get angry in public, and so I write this piece with a hint of embarrassment to begin with. During one of my antique hunts around Central Market recently, I experienced something that raised my blood pressure high enough to warrant an article being written about it.

While trawling through the mountains of made-for-tourists kitsch that passes as contemporary Southeast Asian folk art and handicrafts (nursing the futile hope of actually chancing upon something worth buying, in vain), I overheard a conversation among some young kutu types.

They were looking at some wayang kulit puppets hanging by the door of one of the shops in the market, and pointing to the figures of the Mahabharata heroes Yudistira and Arjuna, two of the five Pandawa brothers of lore.

The punk-headed kutu said to his skin-headed friend with a ring in his nose: “Apalah hero wayang ni. Kurus, ramping macam mak nyah lah. Tangan tak de muscle pun, macam mana nak jadi hero? Nampak macam bapok saja!”

Under normal circumstances I would have let such an untutored remark pass. If Malaysians can’t be bothered to read a little bit more about their own culture and history, then why should we feel offended when tourists say similar things and think similar thoughts?

Who would care to explain to the kutu braders why the heroic figures in the Nusantara rendition of the Mahabharata were and remain so slender, so fine, almost feminine? And even if I had set up my soapbox to deliver an impromptu lecture of Southeast Asian masculine aesthetics, who would have listened?

I cursed my luck for not being able to find a single decent piece of nyonya jewellery instead…

But one month on, events have prompted me to go back to that episode. Like some pathetic gesture of trying to regain lost time, I regret that I had not stood my ground and defended the slender arms of dear ol’ Arjuna, he of the long eyelashes and warm pouting lips.

I regret the fact that I had not defended the value of halus against the unwavering, relentless, smelly tide of kasar and kasarism instead. For indeed, we live in kasar times.

Signs of kasar-ness are all around us today: Politicians lose their cool and reach for their daggers, shouting slogans of blood and triumphalism as soon as they see a microphone.

Powerful men on the make assume that their powers are so limitless that the mansions they build have to reflect their largess as well, to the point where their homes rival the palaces of kings both in size and vulgarity.

Arguments are no longer met with counter-arguments, but with lawsuits or death threats instead. So much for our beloved ‘Asian values’ that are supposed to be ever so halus, refined and sophisticated.

But a reading of the Hikayat Pandawa Lima (The Epic of the Five Pandawas, the Malay rendition of the Mahabharata) points to another age when power was seen and understood not in terms of violent pyrotechnics; but rather the opposite: As restraint, control, poise and demeanour.

The figures of Yudistira and Arjuna embody this aesthetic and moral ideal in its essence. In the Hikayat Pandawa (as is the case of many other ancient Nusantara epics) the ideal hero is the man who restrains himself, rather than let his ego and libido run riot.

The ideal hero meditates (there are often long episodes of meditation in caves and mountains, making for good scenic shots), eats little (hence the slender waistline, nothing to do with pilates), speaks even less (another Bergmanesque touch, ideally filmed in grainy black-and-white) and when he has to fight is often forced to battle with his conscience before, during and after the bloody deed.

While the ugly, pug-faced, muscle-bound, lumbering baddies are the first to reach for their kerises, the ideal hero unsheathes his weapon with all the finesse of a tea ceremony, fully aware of the consequences of the act he is performing and the cost of his actions soon after.

That is why all of the bad characters we see in the wayang performances tend to have bulbous eyes, thick lips, exaggerated noses, pot bellies, heavy muscular arms and legs, thick wrists and ankles: Practically everything about them and their bodies speaks the language of excess and overkill: Too much passion, too much anger, too much testosterone, too much facial hair, too much chilli in their diet.

Halus versus kasar: The moral dialectic of the Southeast Asian universe was staged on a number of registers, including aesthetic, moral and political. The Kasar villain oppresses, bullies, intimidates, pushes his weight around, doesn’t listen to others. The modern equivalent shares surface similarities: he hogs the road, his palatial home dwarfs that of his neighbour’s, his Krakatoa-strength karaoke set leaves his friends deaf and dumb, his SUV and bling-bling make gangsta pimps look like Church wardens.

Conversely, the Halus hero resists, and finds his strength in consistency, persistence and quiet determination. While the marauding kasar armies rape and pillage, he meditates on the rock, concentrating all the power of the universe in his little finger, waiting to unleash his slender feminine keris that will fly through the sky and lay waste to the unwashed horde. The modern equivalent would be the politician who holds his tongue, who tempers his discourse, who calms the crowd — rather than reving up the hate machine. The modern halus hero knows that what matters to the nation is not another fat ugly megamall or skyscraper, but clean accounts and efficient auditing instead. He knows that its not what sort of car he drives that matters, but rather how he drives it.

We were once a people who were halus. (Well, not all of us were I’m sure, but I’m trying to be generous in self-flattery here.) This was a region where power was seen not through the prism of violence and bloodshed, but was demonstrated through calculated restraint that evolved and expressed itself in a manner that was elegant, dignified, civilised. Damn, we had class then.

Now our halus heroes are dismissed as bapoks, Mat Rempits have become patriots overnight and hysterical demagogues and hate-mongers become public figures instead. What a low blow to a nation that could have aimed higher. We live in kasar times, and everything seems so koman and chekai now…

Dr. Farish Ahmad-Noor (Dr. Badrol Hisham Ahmad-Noor)
Academic Researcher
Centre for Modern Orient Studies (ZMO)33 Kirchweg,
14129 Berlin
Germany

10 Replies to “Living in Kasar Times”

  4. Should we all be more sophisticated but still kill each other? Or should we all be more civilized now, not kill each other but live with one another?

    The tone of your article is unclear which direction it is pointing to.

  6. Another well-written article by Farish Noor, I must say. The story behind it is not so much a political issue as it is much a human issue. I think what the good doctor is trying to say that the members of his race (Malays, of course) are reversing their cultural identity from that of the halus to the kasar.

    I can’t exactly remember which Englishman said it, but he said something along the lines of “The Malays are the gentlemen of the east,” and our late Tunku was one of those fellows who fit the picture. And if you’ve been following politics for the last few decades or so, you might have noticed that our politicians (and a lot of the people) have slowly taken on a kasar stance, and become less and less the people that they once were. Gone are the days when leaders would settle matters with rationale and well-thought words, instead making their way for thumping their chests and flashing their kerises, once a ceremonial tool, now a weapon to spill the blood of the non-Malays.

    Read between the lines, people, and you would find that what Farish says is indeed very relevant, and not just because you don’t have someone to bash verbally.

  7. Dr Farish Noor Signs complains of “kasar-ness” of our UMNO politicians, “politicians…reach for their daggers, shouting slogans of blood and triumphalism” (an apparent reference to those delegates who uttered “seditious statements in the last UMNO Assembly) and “mansions they build …to the point where their homes rival the palaces of kings both in size and vulgarity”, a reference to Port Klang assemblyman Datuk Zakaria Mat Deros, who built a mansion in Klang without planning permission. “Arguments are no longer met with counter-arguments, but with lawsuits or death threats” is an apparent reference to NST’s allegedly ‘proxy’ suit against the two bloggers!

    Lest it not be mistaken, though our local politicians shout slogans of blood and triumphalism to stir primordial passions of tribalism (race & religion) to garner constituent’s support, they enjoy their wealth and cavort with beautiful ladies in London and other western cities away from the attention of ordinary Malaysians and prying eyes of overzealous ‘morality police’. Proof of western influence is also seen in preferred term of respectful address of top leaders being “Sir” rather than Datuk Seri.

    Talking about Western influence, the ideal hero in western Hollywood dramas is represented by Sylvester Stallone of Rambo movie fame, Arnold Schwarzenegger of Commando, Predator Last Action Hero, and real life, the powerful governor of California. Even in the case of latest block buster “Troy” from renowned early epic of Western culture, “the Odyssey” the legendary heroes like Hector played by Eric Bana and Achilles by Brad Pitt are rippling with muscles and masochism.

    “Kasar”, Farish would say but that is the influence of contemporary Hollywood dramas brought to the living rooms by our Astro.
    How many would read the Hikayat Pandawa Lima (The Epic of the Five Pandawas, the Malay rendition of the Mahabharata) which points to another age, and why should they?

    The Mahabharata is an ancient dramatic and poetic work written more that 2,000 years ago in India, an epic poem that tells of the war between the Bharata dynasty and the kingdom of Hastinapura, a story of the eternal battle between “Good” and “Evil”.

    It was brought from India by traders and religious scholars to Indonesia where it became popular, especially on the islands of Bali and Java. The whole work may take over 30 hours to watch, but a snapshot of it may be glimpsed from Barong & Kris Dance staged at Batu Bulau, to which tourists and visitors to Bali will be given a treat. More often it is enjoyed in the Wayang theatre or Wayang Kulit show. The wayang is part of the religious complex constructed around the concepts amongst others of haulus-kasar where heroic figures of Yudistira and Arjuna embody this aesthetic and moral ideal and represented as refine and intellectual in thought, restraint, controlled, poised in demeanour, and slender in physique. The evil protagonist is represented by boorish thoughts, violent behaviour, muscular physique and other times with pot bellies.

    When an Sanskrit epic – a dialectic of opposites (between Good and Evil) – is represented by shadows of puppets behind the Wayang Kulit, how else can one conveniently represent to the audience the heroes of Good and the protagonists of Evil, and differentiate them on the kulit screen if not for the slender form and refine language of the former and the muscular bulk and coarse violent language of the latter?

    To me, it is a matter of practical convenience. It is not something translatable to real life to argue and make a point directed at our UMNO politicians…….

    But that’s precisely what Farish attempts to do by drawing a parallel when he says “we were once a people who were halus. This was a region where power was seen not through the prism of violence and bloodshed, but was demonstrated through calculated restraint that evolved and expressed itself in a manner that was elegant, dignified, civilised. Damn, we had class then….Our halus heroes are dismissed as bapoks, Mat Rempits have become patriots overnight and hysterical demagogues and hate-mongers become public figures instead. What a low blow to a nation that could have aimed higher. We live in kasar times, and everything seems so koman and chekai now…”

    The characters depicted in the epic of the Mahabharata are but only legendary beings and mythical figures, represented by puppets to explain the relationship between heaven and the human society; and the origin and the structure of the world.
    You can’t teach UMNO politicians by telling them to be ‘halus’ and not ‘kasar’ in this context.

    They don’t read the Sanskrit and Indian epics and literature like the Mahabharata!

    What do you think they read and are influenced by?

    If it is any indication, you should read Sunday Star, 18th March that wrote a big story of and featuring pictures of our Deputy Prime Minister Datuk Seri Najib Tun Razak and his love for books and habit of reading (See pages SM4 & 5).

    He has read “The Fourth Estate” by Jeffrey Archer. At younger age, he read Shakespeare in Malvern, Boys College in Worcestershire, England. His current favourite is “Blue Ocean Strategy” in between magazines like The Economist, Newsweek – and t6he military “Jane’s”.

    The interviewer asked whether he saw the movie “Alexander” starring Colin Farrell, and his answer : ‘Yes, I was disappointed. He looked very “pondan-ish” ‘

    Farish will say, “Ah, I rest my case!”

    As I have commented in the other blog thread “When Philosophy meets Religion” I asked why Dr Azly Rahman should cite fables of the famed meeting between Confucius and Lao Tze to make the point about humility to our politicians? As I would now ask Farish (whom I have the greatest respect for as a slender and refined intellectual articulating the Malaysian Cause in poise and clam manner), why he would use Sanskrit legends to admonish and cajole our politicians to be more refined when they don’t read such things?

    Our intellectuals have a major role in the discourse arena to bring about change in habits of thinking and behaviour of politicians as well as the masses whom they influence to get their votes and support.

    I would rather a more practical approach (like that of our YB LKS) than resorting to pointers distilled from legends, fables, whether Chinese or Sanskrit in origin that only our intellectual cum scholars are erudite about but which the target audience (both politicians and their supporters) know nothing of and cannot learn and benefit anything from to improve our political order.

  10. “I can’t exactly remember which Englishman said it, but he said something along the lines of “The Malays are the gentlemen of the east,” and our late Tunku was one of those fellows..”

    I believe it was Richard O. Windstedt.

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