By Stephanie Sta Maria
FMT INTERVIEW PETALING JAYA: Tucked in a corner of the Arts Faculty in Universiti Malaya (UM) is a tiny office overrun by history books. Hardcovers, coffee table editions and paperbacks are either squeezed into bursting bookshelves or piled into tall towers around the room. Sheaves of papers lay in messy heaps, some in danger of toppling off a table that is already littered with stationery and a coffee cup.
Professor Emeritus Dr Khoo Kay Kim sat behind this table, almost dwarfed by the surrounding disarray which he affectionately calls “organised chaos”.
“I created this chaos... so I know where everything is,” he laughed as he swept an amused glance around the room. But even if he doesn't, there is always another place where he's guaranteed to find the information he seeks – in his mind.
The 73-year-old Khoo knows Malaysian history like he lived each and every moment of it. A query on just about any historical event has him reeling off facts, figures and untold stories, deftly resurrecting the past in his audience's minds.
One would imagine Khoo's retirement therefore to be laden with guest talks, mentoring sessions and research projects. Instead he has been rudely relegated to a relic himself.
Students trawl through the hallways beneath him in blissful ignorance of his presence. One student sheepishly confessed to not being aware of a History Department on the campus or the location of the Arts Faculty.
These days, Khoo conducts his own research in solitude for the most part in UM, interrupted only by the occasional visitor wanting either a donation or the answer to a painfully basic history question.
“Very few students and faculty members come to seek my counsel,” he said matter of factly. “And I'm not asked to give any guest lectures. All my title has earned me is this room.”
Steady decline
UM, Malaysia's oldest university, is the only institution left in the country housing a History Department. But that status has done nothing for the department which has suffered a steady decline in both student and staff numbers.
Where it once enjoyed an annual enrolment of 1,300 students in the 60s, only 400 have straggled through its doors over the last few years. Its faculty members are fewer than half of the 28 it used to have. To Khoo, the reason is starkly simple – Malaysians feel that history isn't important.
“I did have a research project which I began two years ago though,” he recalled. “It was a study of Malaysia's cultural diversity. A year later it was terminated. The 'top people' had determined that such a study is – and I quote – not of fundamental importance.”
He raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly as if underlining the absurdity of his statement. When asked whether he challenged this decision, he spread his hands resignedly.
“Of course I did but what can you do?” he said. “My friends and I always talk about the tyranny of the majority. There are so few of us old people so really, what can I do except continue working on the project in a private capacity. But that won't be easy because my research won't be funded.”
The careless dismissal of this commitment towards preserving Malaysian history elicits a deep sigh from Khoo, but what makes him really wince is listening to “utter nonsense” being said about the past. His voice tightened as he spoke of those who trotted out a history based on personal interpretations instead of proper research.
“I can never understand that,” he said in bewilderment. “What has happened to today's generation? In my day, we were always told that any statements we made had to be logical and based on empirical evidence. These criteria apparently aren't necessary today.”
“Bloggers especially talk absolute rubbish! They think they are very clever and that they have the right to say anything they want. We're getting more people like this who don't talk sense anymore. It isn't possible to debate with them.”
“Don't talk about history unless you have done meticulous research. Otherwise, fact and fiction will merge like it is happening now.”
Be truly passionate
Khoo holds the current crop of history teachers responsible for this sacrilege. Their fixation on exam preparations, he said, rendered them unfit to teach a subject like history where understanding takes precedence over the automatic regurgitation of facts.
He also underlined the urgent need for history teachers to be specially trained to understand history beyond the realm of school textbooks.
“Hold special courses for them and rope in experienced teachers to run these courses,” he said. “And strive to get history teachers who are truly passionate about history. Those who teach for the sole purpose of exams are of no use.”
At this point, Khoo leaned forward, his eyes bright. The proposal by Deputy Prime Minister Muhyiddin Yassin to make history a compulsory pass subject in the SPM by 2014 has greatly heartened him.
“You don't know how I felt when he said that,” he said earnestly, pressing one hand to his chest. “For years I've been telling the government not to let history die. This move is so important.”
“I get very frightened when I hear young people talk today. They are so ignorant of the past. And this leads them to blame the innocent. Like politicians who insist that the British brought the Chinese into Malaysia and caused trouble.”
“But it was the Chinese tauke who brought in the Chinese. They don't even know that! And the non-Chinese have no idea that most Chinese in fact supported the national party and were anti-communists. This ignorance is what caused the racial riots of 1945.”
Nationality and ethnicity
Khoo, who has lived through two racial riots, spoke of his fear for the country's future if it stayed on this path. He predicted that the next generation would wrestle with an identity crisis brought on by their growing inability to differentiate between nationality and ethnicity.
He categorically stated that when a person becomes a citizen of a particular country, his full loyalty should be directed towards that country. But Malaysians, he said, pledged their loyalty to their ethnicity instead.
“In 1949, the British had already set up what was known as the Communities Liaison Committee in an effort to resolve ethnic problems,” he explained. “Then in 1950, they set up a Barnes Committee to study the education system to see how young people from different ethnicities could be brought together.”
“After so many years we have still failed to do that. Why? Some people conveniently blamed the British for the practice of divide and rule. But I can prove to you that there was no such practice.”
“The first English school in this country was the Penang Free School. Many assumed it was called that because the students didn't have to pay school fees but actually it was because any child from any ethnicity was free to enrol there.”
Khoo observed that one fault of the British was the kindness they extended to the people of Malaya in granting them free rein to establish their position as citizens. This freedom eventually led to a strong Chinese influence which the British were unable to control.
It was just before the war, Khoo said, when the High Commissioner wrote to the colonial office suggesting that the time had come to anglicise the Chinese. But then the war erupted and the idea was abandoned.
Real career
Khoo's fierce passion for history is a startling contrast to his childhood dream of being a professional footballer.
“I really did harbour that dream!” he laughed. “Fortunately for me, there was no professional football team in the country and my friends persuaded me to pursue a 'real' career.”
In his real career, Khoo himself made history by being the first lecturer of his department to use Bahasa Malaysia as a medium of instruction in 1965. At the time, this was considered a historic achievement by a non-Malay academician.
He inadvertently made the History Department one of the pioneering departments in the university which only made Bahasa Malaysia the medium of instruction in 1983.
But despite carving history and living through major historical events, many things still surprise him today. One of it is the younger generation's continuous obsession with change.
“In those days we said yes to change if it was for the better and not just for the sake of doing things differently,” he said. “But the younger generation believes that if something has worked well for a long time, then it can't be used any longer and needs to be changed. And we have no idea where we are headed.”
“People think history means appreciating the past for its own sake. But we study history in order to understand the present. History becomes meaningful when we observe society and its problems today, ask how we have become this way and search for answers in the past.”
But that search may come to an end with Khoo for there is no successor waiting in the wings to step into his shoes. Even his previous post as Chair of Malaysian History remained vacant for years before being scrapped completely. This knowledge brings him a stab of anguish.
“I am the last historian in the country,” he uttered. “And I couldn't influence anyone to be my successor. I have a very sad life.”
