THERE are 30 million of us now. On Feb 20 this year, the 30 millionth Malaysian was born. At 10.46pm on Thursday, Oct 16th, when I started writing this piece, the number of Malaysians stood at 30,340,337. Two hours later, the number was 30,340,349. To put it in perspective, on average, there are 1,600 births and 389 deaths each day this year.
On the day Tunku Abdul Rahman declared the country’s Independence, the population of Malaya was at 6.3 million. We have added 23.7 million people since then. In the last seven years, there had been an increase of 3.2 million Malaysians, nothing compared with many nations in the world.
The projection for 2040 is hardly 30.6 million Malaysians and, by 2100, we are looking at a figure of 65 million. Back in 1984, Tun Dr Mahathir Mohamad caused a stir when he mentioned the target of 70 million people. The truth is, considering other factors remain equal, we are just short of five million souls to reach the target by 2100.
Numbers matter. We all understand that. It is no longer the equation of whether we can feed that many people any more. The 18th-century English economist, Thomas Malthus, who articulated the idea that there would be a scarcity of food with an increasing population, has been largely discredited.
China used to be poor, but not any more. In fact, its population is an advantage. Mathematically speaking, if you can sell match boxes to just one-10th of its 1.3 billion people, you would be richer than the richest man in most developing nations. China is now an economic force to be reckoned with. If we talk about just 10 per cent of reasonably wealthy people in Indonesia, the number is a staggering 24 million people.
What is the future for us, then? Either there will be 70 million or 100 million of us in the next 100 years; what will we be? Will we be better off or worse off? Will we be successful or are we going to fail miserably?
Or should we take the position of “que sera sera, whatever will be, will be, the future’s not ours to see”, as in the famous song by Doris Day? The Malays have this cerita nasihat (moral story): Someone asked an old man who had planted a durian tree, “Why do you do that, you are not going eat the fruits”. He said, “the tree is not for me, the fruits are for my children and grandchildren to eat”.
Planning for the future is like that. You might not be the one benefiting from it, but your descendants will. The future generation will. Preparing for the future is not easy. Our forefathers were thoughtful, calculative and far-sighted, and prepared plans that we inherited. They made mistakes, of course — some spectacularly, too — but we will not be where we are today if they had been selfish, short-sighted and prepared only for short-term gains.
Nation-building is never easy, and more so for a country like ours. Ethnicity matters, identity contestation can be suffocating, religiosity is rearing its ugly head, racial tension is in the air at times, “right-wing” posturing is becoming trendy, the scent of chauvinistic zeal can be conspicuous, politicking is the rule of the day, and the list goes on.
The cyber world is not helping with its knee-jerk responses, irresponsible postings, maddeningly irrational reactions, compulsive “forwarding” tendencies, and the penchant to believe even the most ridiculous lies and untruths. Ironically, it is increasingly difficult to manage information in an information era. Shape is fast becoming formless and shade is colourless, just like how T.S. Eliot once reminded us of an analogy of hollow men — “headpiece filled with straw”.
We must differentiate the good from the bad. Not everything the government does is right. Governments, like people, are never perfect. The government of the day is mandated to do the best for the people, now and for the future. Punish it if it does not keep its promises. But, give it the chance to do something right. Wholesome condemnation is not worth the while. Taking the “Us vs Them” approach is never wise.
We are seeing changing dynamics in society. Old values are crumbling. Demands for transparency and openness are getting louder. The old ways are being questioned. As the prime minister rightly pointed out, the era of “government knows best” is over. Approaches, therefore, must change with time.
It is not just about another 12 Malaysians born in the duration of writing this piece that bothers me. It is their future — their rights and their place in this beloved nation of ours. They are part of the national consciousness. They are not merely statistics, but Malaysians in flesh and blood.
They, too, need shelter, a good life and a better future. We must think of them before we brandish our egos and sabre-rattle our wares in trying to prove others wrong.