Rudyard Kipling"
āWhen you're left wounded on Afganistan's plains and
the women come out to cut up what remains, Just roll to your rifle
and blow out your brains,
And go to your God like a soldierā
General Douglas MacArthur"
āWe are not retreating. We are advancing in another direction.ā
āIt is fatal to enter any war without the will to win it.ā āOld soldiers never die; they just fade away.
āThe soldier, above all other people, prays for peace, for he must suffer and be the deepest wounds and scars of war.ā
āMay God have mercy upon my enemies, because I won't .ā āThe object of war is not to die for your country but to make the other bastard die for his.
āNobody ever defended, there is only attack and attack and attack some more.
āIt is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived.
The Soldier stood and faced God
Which must always come to pass
He hoped his shoes were shining
Just as bright as his brass
"Step forward you Soldier,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My Church have you been true?"
"No, Lord, I guess I ain't
Because those of us who carry guns
Can't always be a saint."
I've had to work on Sundays
And at times my talk was tough,
And sometimes I've been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.
But, I never took a penny
That wasn't mine to keep.
Though I worked a lot of overtime
When the bills got just too steep,
The Soldier squared his shoulders and said
And I never passed a cry for help
Though at times I shook with fear,
And sometimes, God forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around
Except to calm their fears.
If you've a place for me here,
Lord, It needn't be so grand,
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't, I'll understand."
There was silence all around the throne
Where the saints had often trod
As the Soldier waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.
"Step forward now, you Soldier,
You've borne your burden well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell."
Beacon of light dims after 69 years of independence By Phlip Rodrigues
Sunday, August 16, 2026
Malaysiakini : I depended heavily on these two main commodities at that time, and I must say I grew rich.
But
this was not enough. The leaders who stood guard over me knew that we
must diversify our economy. And so began the expansion into agriculture
and industrial manufacturing.
All these developments were spread over the 1960s to 70s, and indeed the future looked promising.
Then
came an historic event when I expanded my borders to incorporate my
fellow brothers, Sabah, Sarawak, and Singapore in 1963. I took on a new
personality and a new name called Malaysia. All this was made possible
under the umbrella of the now much-disputed Malaysia Agreement.
To
make it a joyous occasion, I also celebrate Malaysia Day to mark the
joining of the two eastern brothers with my peninsular self.
Unfortunately,
Singapore left us to chart its own destiny. Critics predicted the
island nation would perish after partition. It didn't happen. On the
contrary, it flourished.
Just as I was about to get into a good mood, a tragedy overtook me. That was in May 1969. I won't dwell on that tragic passage of history. Suffice to say, it grieved me to receive so many souls into my earth.
Things
began to look up over the years, and from the 1980s onwards I moved on
from a mainly agriculture-based economy into heavy industries,
electronics exports, petroleum production, and the services industry.
Now I have moved further into the technology sector, investing in all these mind-boggling things called data centres, 5G rollouts, and artificial intelligence.
Turning national pride into political dismay
But
hold it! After 69 years of living free from the yoke of colonialism,
including fighting off all those pesky commies during those emergency
days, I should be rejoicing over the great achievements made over the
decades. Right? Not really.
These
days I hear ominous noises emanating mostly from people who call
themselves politicians. They are giving me a lot of headaches.
This
breed of people āruns for office, wins elections, joins the government,
and helps make laws for the publicā. If only they stick to their
duties. What got me all riled up is the way they behave and think
subsequently. They didnāt live up to the high standards expected of the
representatives of the people.
I hear so many disturbing reports
about the many bad things they do, which give me a bad name. You can say
these people are āexperts at doing what is bad but failures at doing
what is goodā.
One man in particular, in whom the public had
placed their trust and elected him to the highest office on land, came
to grief because he chose a crooked path. Heās now languishing in prison. Serves him right!
After
many changes of the guard, one would expect life today to be better
because we are āmasters of our destinyā. It didnāt actually turn out
that way. Instead, I hear shrill voices making all sorts of provocative
remarks that make the bowels of my earth churn.
Many times they
vented their spleen openly whenever it suited them. They stepped on me
in the hundreds as they tramped down the streets yelling slogans and
waving flags to display their political identity.
I distinctly
hear them being classified as bigots, rightists, extremists, village
champions, supremacists, diehard conservatives, boycott specialists, to
name a few.
All their hate speeches, political rhetoric, and
grandstanding make me sick to the bone. Donāt they realise how dangerous
all this can be? Their irrational conduct is pushing me to the brink.
As
far as I am concerned, I will stick a common label on all their
foreheads and call them all āplain troublemakersā. Sometimes, I feel
like opening up my earth and swallowing them all to keep the peace.
Lamenting rising racial rhetoric and division
Take, for example, one man who is the boss of one state who has been creating waves with his inflammatory remarks.
I
was outraged when he dared to say my vast land is the only home of the
dominant race. Heās insinuating that all the others can always pack up
their bags and return to their ancestral homeland.
This firebrand
even brazenly claimed that a piece of my land belongs to his state and
heās going to court to take back the āPearl of the Orientā. What
nonsense! I will state categorically that my land is all of one piece
and no one can tear a piece of me to become part of another state.
Stop it! All you troublemakers! I, Malaysia, am the home to all races and faiths, and no one can claim exclusive rights to me.
Well
before independence, I have welcomed warmly many migrants who have made
me their homeland. They laboured to extract raw materials from my
earth, tapped my barks, tilled my soil; in short, all of them have made
me what I am today.
As I see it, my future is becoming
increasingly uncertain as I see no end to this constant flow of diatribe
which can only do more harm than good. I donāt understand why all these
rabble-rousers want to ruin my beautiful land that has been in
existence since time immemorial.
Soon I will hear the thudding of
hundreds of feet on me as my fellow citizens march to mark my
independence. It should be a day full of meaning and unity, but beneath
the surface I can only watch with trepidation as I, Malaysia, shudder to
think what lies ahead amidst all these unhealthy developments.
Tunku
wanted me to be a ābeacon of light in a disturbed and distracted worldā
but, sadly now, I am becoming more disturbed and distracted by all
these domestic troubles. The light is becoming dimmer with each passing
year.
