Najib: A Whiff of His Father's Leadership

 Najib: A Whiff of His Father’s Leadership

M. Bakri Musa

Originally posted on September 19, 2011

(How things change!)

In announcing the repeal of the Internal Security Act (ISA) and other repressive laws, Prime Minister Najib Razak has secured himself an undeniable spot in Malaysian history.

Of the many commentaries following Najib’s historic announcement, the one that struck closest to the core came from the former Mufti of Perlis, Dr. Asri Zainul Abidin. He declared plainly: “The ISA is an un-Islamic law. It infringes upon individual rights and can be easily misused by leaders, so repealing it was a very Islamic move.”

Amen!

“Najib’s announcement,” Asri continued, “is more valuable than any bonus payment or salary increase because repealing the ISA means the restoration of human rights… which is more valuable than money.”

That puts things in their proper perspective. I must disagree, however, with the Mufti’s characterization of Najib’s move as a “gift” to the people.

When someone robs you of your property and later returns it, that is no gift; it is merely the restitution of what was rightfully yours to begin with. The ISA and its statutory cousins robbed us of our most precious possession: our liberty. Freedom is Allah’s gift to humanity, as enshrined in the Qur'an. It is not for mere mortals to tamper with, regardless of their exalted earthly titles.

Nonetheless, I hear the Mufti’s underlying point. A good Muslim ought to be grateful for blessings, however belatedly delivered. Najib’s announcement is indeed a significant blessing, and for that, I am profoundly grateful. Alhamdulillah!

Missing the Islamic Visuals

Najib and his strategists must have deliberated over this for months. It was likely no coincidence that just a week earlier, Najib’s younger brother, Nazir Razak—head of a major GLC bank—hinted at a trade conference that Malaysia needed urgent structural change lest it risk a Middle East–style upheaval.

Returning to the religious dimension, I am surprised that Najib and his advisers did not select an occasion rich in Islamic symbolism to deliver this monumental address. Not that there was anything wrong with choosing Malaysia Day. However, Ramadan had concluded just two weeks prior. Surely Najib had finalized his decision at that time. Imagine if he had timed the announcement for Hari Raya, coinciding with Merdeka Day. What better way to demonstrate the spirit of Ramadan—a season of reflection and return to fundamental truths—while simultaneously fulfilling the core promise of Merdeka: freedom!

When Islam was revealed, it emancipated the Arabs from the age of Jahiliyyah (ignorance). Getting rid of the ISA similarly emancipates Malaysians, lifting us out of our long Age of Fear. As for the essence of our faith, Islam commands us to enjoin good and forbid evil (amr bi-l-ma'ruf wa nahi 'an al-munkar). Dismantling the ISA dismantles an entrenched structural evil; it cannot get more Islamic than that.

Consider the global impact had Najib delivered this speech at the close of Ramadan, mere days before the tenth anniversary of 9/11 and its attendant tide of global Islamophobia. Imagine the narrative shift for Islam itself: a Muslim-majority nation voluntarily discarding its antiquated detention laws—not in response to violent street riots or civil collapse, but as a deliberate act of enlightened governance. The contrast with Washington’s stubborn adherence to the Patriot Act and the Guantanamo detention facility would have been stark and instructive.

Speaking of strategic communications: had I been advising the Prime Minister, I would have coordinated the speech with the immediate, synchronized release of selected ISA detainees. I would have tipped off the international media to position camera crews outside the gates of Kamunting Detention Camp.

The visuals would have been unforgettable. As Najib spoke, prison doors would open, and detainees would step out into the arms of their families. Had there been a nearby mosque, the Azan could have provided the ambient backdrop. A split screen would show the Prime Minister making his solemn address on one side, and families weeping tears of joy on the other, anchored by the faint sound of takbir. That is how you project moral authority. It also happens to make for unbeatable campaign material.

Instead, the Najib administration continues to disburse tens of millions of dollars to foreign Public Relations consultants to polish its global image. Predictably, those glossy documentaries and soft-ball international interviews yielded little more than embarrassing fiascos. Yet when a genuine transformative moment presented itself, these highly paid foreign hucksters missed it entirely. Perhaps that shouldn’t surprise us. Being foreign and non-Muslim, they lacked the cultural intuition to grasp the subtle Islamic nuances at play. But their incompetence on basic media strategy cannot be excused.

Good policy remains the best PR. Notice how instantly the reputable international press praised Najib’s initiative—and it didn't cost the Malaysian taxpayer a single ringgit in consultant fees. Focus on crafting enlightened policy, and favorable coverage will follow. Even if it doesn't, good policy is its own reward; the public will remember who delivered it.

A Whiff of His Father

In committing to repeal the ISA, Najib attempted what none of his predecessors dared to execute. In doing so, he displayed a unmistakable whiff of his late father’s decisive leadership style. The late Tun Razak did not hesitate to suspend Parliament following the May 1969 racial riots. Despite severe criticism at home and abroad, Razak remained resolute because he had a singular duty: restore stability to a fractured nation. May Allah bless his soul; he accomplished that mission with remarkable speed.

For those who understate that achievement, recall that the 1969 tragedy coincided with the outbreak of sectarian violence in Northern Ireland. While Malaysia has enjoyed decades of relative stability since, Northern Ireland spent the next thirty years bogged down in violent conflict.

To this day, Tun Razak remains rare among global leaders: an executive who assumed emergency powers during a national crisis to accomplish a vital goal, and then voluntarily surrendered those powers once the objective was met. History is littered with leaders who had to be dragged out of office, feet-first.

I am less interested in the internal political calculus that drove Najib to this decision; I am more interested in the structural output. Skeptics abound, and they have valid reasons to be wary. Najib’s track record on policy consistency rivals the drift of his immediate predecessor, Abdullah Badawi.

No U-Turn Allowed

Even if the cynics are eventually proven right, the political baseline has fundamentally shifted. Najib has clearly declared his niat (intention) to repeal the ISA. In Islam, niat is paramount. We state our intention before we pray, fast, pay zakat, or undertake the Hajj. If Najib fails to fulfill his Nawaitu, he will have to answer for it—not only to his Creator on the Day of Judgment, but to his political creators (the voters) right here on Earth at the next general election.

Najib’s “Nixon-in-China” Moment

Najib’s declaration reminds me of Richard Nixon’s historic 1972 trip to Beijing. It took another seven years before Washington officially stationed an ambassador in China, and decades later we wonder why it took American leadership so long to acknowledge obvious geopolitical realities. Regardless, the world was better for it. Nixon rode the momentum of that diplomatic breakthrough to a landslide re-election. Though his presidency later collapsed in disgrace over unrelated domestic scandals, his China initiative permanently retained its historic significance.

If Najib’s announcement turns out to be mere political theater and nothing more, then like Nixon, he will at least have this single moment as his redeeming legacy. However, if his niat proves ikhlas (sincere)—and serves merely as the first step in a broader suite of courageous structural reforms—then real greatness awaits both him and Malaysia

Membincang Hadis Dengan Murid Islam Di Amerika

 Membincang Hadis Dengan Murid Islam Di Amerika

M. Bakri Musa

Petikan daripada Qur’an, Hadith, And Hikayat: Exercises In Critical Thinking (2021)

16 September 2026

Saya menggunakan hadis yang terkenal, “Tuntutlah ilmu walau hingga ke negeri Cina,” untuk di bincang dalam kelas sekolah agama hujungan minggu di California. Soalan saya kepada para pelajar cukup mudah: Adakah rujukan kepada negeri Cina itu bersifat literal atau hanya satu metafora? Dalam dunia kuno, Cina mewakili hujung dunia yang diketahui—samalah seperti Timbuktu dijadikan ungkapan bagi ufuk yang amat jauh pada abad-abad berikutnya.

Sebagian besar pelajar dengan pantas bersetuju bahawa masyarakat Arab Bedouin pada abad ke-7 memang mengetahui adanya Negeri Cina. Namun, soalan yang lebih mendalam ialah bagaimana masyarakat Arab kuno di Padang Pasir Arab boleh mengetahui tentang tamadun yang begitu jauh. Kelas terdiam seketika sehinggalah seorang pelajar mengangkat tangan dan memberikan jawapan: “Laluan Sutera!”

Dengan fon tangan mereka, para pelajar terus menyemak rekod sejarah. Laluan Sutera telah berkembang sejak abad ke-2 SM dan kekal menjadi urat nadi perdagangan merentas benua hingga melepasi abad ke-14 Masihi. Pada zaman Nabi, ia merupakan rangkaian laluan perdagangan yang sibuk, dan sebahagian daripadanya merentasi Semenanjung Tanah Arab. Sebagai seorang pedagang yang pernah memimpin kafilah ke Syria, Nabi ( ) secara semula jadinya tentu menyedari kewujudan Asia Timur dan khususnya Negeri Cina.

Harus dijelaskan bahawa apa yang dikumpulkan oleh para pelajar dalam beberapa saat melalui Google di fon tangan mereka hanyalah data dan fakta mentah. Pembelajaran sebenar berlaku apabila mereka menggunakan akal kritis untuk mensintesis fakta-fakta tersebut, menghubungkannya, dan membina satu naratif sejarah yang bermakna.

Sebaliknya, apabila penceramah bebas popular seperti Mufti Menk dengan begitu mudah menepis kemungkinan bahawa Nabi pernah mendengar tentang Negeri China, pendengar yang lurus di Kuala Lumpur sekadar mengangguk mengiyakan tanpa berfikir. Amat memuaskan hati saya apabila melihat sekumpulan remaja sekolah Ahad di Amerika mampu meruntuhkan ketaksuban dogmatik sedemikian secara real-time. Mereka membuktikan apa yang berlaku apabila umat beriman menerapkan sejarah empirikal dan logik asas terhadap tradisi keagamaan, dan bukannya menerima bulat-bulat kenyataan retorik yang kosong. Pemindahan budaya, teknologi, dan pemikiran melalui laluan perdagangan adalah hakikat sejarah yang mantap; mengabaikannya mencerminkan kelesuan intelektual yang bertentangan sama sekali dengan semangat inkuiri Islam.

Ini membawa kepada soalan yang lebih berat: Apakah jenis tempatnya negeri China pada abad ke-7 dari pemandangan seorang Nabi, s.a.w., di negeri Arab?

Pertama, Nabi, s.a.w., mengetahui bahawa Negeri Cina bukanlah sebuah negeri Arab. Kedua, memandangkan Islam pada ketika itu masih di peringkat awal dan terbatas di Semenanjung Tanah Arab, Negeri Cina merupakan sebuah tamadun asing yang bukan berasaskan tradisi Abrahamik. Namun baginda dengan terus terang menggalakkan pengikutnya mengembara ke sana demi menuntut ilmu.

Ini menyingkap dua iktibar yang amat mendalam. Pertama, ia menegaskan keyakinan mutlak Nabi, s.a.w., terhadap kebenaran hakiki risalahnya—baginda tidak pernah bimbang pengikutnya akan terpesong akidah hanya kerana terdedah kepada budaya asing. Kedua, ia menonjolkan kedudukan tertinggi yang diberikan oleh Islam terhadap usaha menuntut ilmu, tanpa mengira dari mana asalnya atau budayanya.

Nabi s.a.w. pasti menyedari bahawa ilmu yang bakal diperoleh dari Negeri Cina pada abad ke-7 itu bukannya ilmu Islam. Sebaliknya masyrakat Cina pada zaman itu terkenal dengan penguasaan mereka dalam pembuatan kertas, tenunan sutera, metalurgi, dan kejuruteraan. Dengan mengarahkan pengikutnya menuntut ilmu sedemikian, Nabi tidak pernah membuat sebarang perbedza’an antara ilmu “agama” dan ilmu “dunia.” Pemisahan yang tegar itu adalah satu fahaman moden yang buatan, kebudak-budakan, dan akhirnya merosakkan minda umat Islam. Semua ilmu yang bermanfaat dan mengangkat darjah kehidupan manusia secara hakikinya wajar dituntut.

Cuba kita pertimbangkan tafsiran yang berlain. Katakanlah Negeri Cina itu sememangnya sekadar metafora sahaja. Maknanya, bagi batas terujung kemampuan manusia. Peribahasa modennya—sama ada secara literal mahupun metafora—ialah tuntutlah ilmu walaupun anda terpaksa berkelana ke angkasa lepas. Dilihat dari sudut pandang tersebut, hadis itu menjadi jauh lebih berpandangan jauh.

Apabila Rusia berjaya melancarkan satelit Sputnik pada tahun 1957, diikuti empat tahun kemudian oleh penerbangan orbit Yuri Gagarin, ia menyemarakkan perlumbaan angkasa lepas. Presiden John F. Kennedy berikrar untuk mendaratkan manusia di bumi bulan sebelum dekad tersebut berakhir. Para pengkritik pada masa itu tergesa-gesa mengecam perbelanjaan yang mahal tersebut dengan hujah bahawa dana sepatutnya ditumpukan kepada masalah mendesak di bumi ini, manakala yang lain memberi amaran tentang bahaya menjadikan angkasa lepas sebagai medan ketenteraan baharu.

Namun hari ini, hasil sampingan teknologi daripada penerokaan angkasa lepas itu menyentuh segenap aspek kehidupan moden. Rangkaian satelit membolehkan Sistem Kedudukan Sejagat (GPS) memandu kapal dan pesawat, membolehkan pertanian tepat, serta meramal cuaca. Teknologi zaman angkasa lepas yang sama itulah yang membolehkan saya berhubung secara bersemuka dengan cucu-cucu saya di seberang Lautan Pasifik, sebagaimana ia membolehkan Imam kami menyampaikan khutbah Jumaat secara maya kepada komuniti kami semasa kemuncak perintah berkurung pandemic Covid.

Tiada hadnya manfaat ilmu. Hikmah berpanjangan daripada Nabi kita—dan perintah teras daripada al-Qur'an—ialah untuk terus mengejar cahaya pengetahuan di mana jua ia berada, sama ada di Negeri Cina kuno, di kedalaman makmal, mahupun di pelosok angkasa lepas.

 

Discussing Hadith In An American Muslim Classroom

M. Bakri Musa

Excerpted from my Qur’an, Hadith, And Hikayat: Exercises In Critical Thinking (2021)

September 13, 2026

 

[Author’s Note:

My commentary below illustrates a central thesis of my 2003 book, An Education System Worthy of Malaysia. That is, genuine education is not the passive absorption of dogma or the rote memorization of authoritative pronouncements, but the active cultivation of critical inquiry.

When our schools and religious institutions reduce learning to uncritical acceptance—where students are expected to nod along to celebrity preachers and ulamas rather than question premises—we produce minds ill-equipped for the complexities of the modern world. In contrast, the Sunday school exercise described below demonstrates that true ilmu (knowledge) emerges when young minds are empowered to synthesize data, cross-examine assumptions against empirical reality, and erase the artificial divide between the sacred and the secular.

If Malaysia aspires for an educational architecture worthy of its youth, it must foster this exact brand of intellectual courage: one that equips students to challenge superficial dogma using history, logic, and modern tools of inquiry.]

 

I used the well-known hadith, “Seek knowledge even if you have to go to China,” as a springboard for discussion in our Sunday school Islamic class here in California years ago. My opening query to the students was straightforward: Was the reference to China literal or metaphorical? In the ancient world, China represented the edge of the known earth—much like Timbuktu served as a proxy for the far horizon in later centuries.

Most students quickly agreed that 7th-century Bedouins were aware of China’s existence. The deeper question, however, was how desert nomads in pre-Islamic Arabia could have known of such a distant civilization. The class paused briefly until one student raised a hand and offered the answer: “The Silk Road!”

Armed with their smartphones, the students immediately pulled up the historical record. The Silk Road had flourished since the 2nd century BC and remained a vital artery of transcontinental commerce well past the 14th century CE. During the Prophet’s lifetime, it was a bustling network of trade routes, several of which crisscrossed the Arabian Peninsula. As a merchant who had led caravans north to Syria, the Prophet,  would naturally have been aware of East Asia and China specifically.

To be clear, what the students gathered in seconds via Google were mere raw facts and isolated data points. The true learning occurred when they exercised their critical faculties to synthesize those facts, draw connections, and build a logical historical narrative.

By contrast, when popular itinerant preachers like Zimbabwe’s Mufti Menk glibly dismiss the possibility of the Prophet having known of China, conservative audiences in Kuala Lumpur nod along in passive assent. It was deeply gratifying to watch a group of American Sunday school pupils dismantle that brand of uncritical dogmatism in real time. They demonstrated what happens when believers apply empirical history and basic logic to religious traditions rather than accepting empty rhetorical pronouncements. The transmission of culture, technology, and ideas along trade routes is a well-established historical reality; ignoring it reflects an intellectual lethargy that runs counter to the spirit of Islamic inquiry.

That led to a more substantive question: What kind of place was China in the 7^th Century from the perspective of an Arabian Prophet?

First, the Prophet, s.a.w., obviously knew that China was not an Arab land. Second, because Islam was then in its infancy and confined to the Arabian Peninsula, China was an unfamiliar, non-Abrahamic civilization. Yet, he explicitly encouraged his followers to travel there in pursuit of knowledge (ilmu).

That reveals two profound insights. First, it underscores the Prophet’s supreme confidence in the intrinsic truth of his message. He had no fear that his followers would lose their faith by exposing themselves to alien cultures. Second, it highlights the paramount position Islam accords to the acquisition of knowledge, regardless of its geographic or cultural origin.

The Prophet, s.a.w., surely recognized that any knowledge Muslims acquired in 7^th Century China would not be theological or ritualistic. The Chinese of that era were celebrated for their mastery of papermaking, silk weaving, metallurgy, and early engineering. By directing his followers to seek such knowledge, the Prophet made no distinction between “religious” and “secular” learning. That rigid dichotomy is a modern, artificial, and ultimately puerile construct that has done immense damage to Muslim minds and culture. All useful knowledge that elevates human life is inherently worth pursuing. They all ultimately originate from Allah.

Now, consider the alternative interpretation: Suppose China was indeed meant purely as a metaphor for the absolute limits of human reach. The modern equivalent—both literal and metaphorical—would be to seek knowledge even if you must venture into outer space. Viewed through that lens, the hadith becomes even more prescient.

When the Soviet Union launched Sputnik in 1957, followed four years later by Yuri Gagarin’s orbital flight, it ignited the space race. President John F. Kennedy famously pledged to land a man on the moon before the decade was out. Critics at the time were quick to denounce the astronomical expense, arguing that funds should be concentrated on immediate problems on Earth, while others warned of the possible militarizing of the cosmos.

Yet today, the technological fallout of that space exploration touches every facet of modern life. Satellite networks enable Global Positioning Systems (GPS) that guide ships and aircraft, allow precision agriculture, and track severe weather. That same space-age technology also allows me to converse face-to-face with my grandchildren across the Pacific Ocean, just as it allowed our local Imam to deliver Friday sermons virtually to our community during the pandemic lockdowns.

There is no boundary to the utility of knowledge. The enduring wisdom of the Prophet – and the central imperative of the Qur’an – is to pursue light wherever it may be found, whether in ancient China, the depths of the oceans, or the far reaches of outer space.

Next:  Schisms Among the Ummah

Menuntut Ilmu Hinga Ke Negeri Cina

  

Menuntut Ilmu Hingga Ke Negeri Cina: Mengutip Iktibar Menerusi Pemikiran Kritis

M. Bakri Musa

Kutipan dari buku saya Qur’an, Hadith, And Hikayat:  Exercises in Critical Thinking (2021)

 

Apabila para ulama terkemuka atau pun lebai kampung berbahas mengenai riwayat terkenal—“Tuntutlah ilmu walau hingga ke Negeri Cina”—mereka sering kali terperangkap dalam perdebatan isnad (silsilah perawi). Berjam masa terbuang sekadar bertengkar sama ada riwayat itu sahih, daif, atau maudhu’ (palsu). Mereka tersilap membezakan antara pembalut dengan isinya.

Tidak seperti dalam bidang arkeologi di mana ujian seperti tarikh karbon mampu memberikan batasan empirikal menerusi analisis kertas dan dakwat, usaha mengesahkan hadis berabad selepas kewafatan Nabi, s.a.w., ialah satu perbuatan sia sia. Baginda Rasulullah s.a.w. sendiri pernah melarang para sahabat daripada membukukan kata-kata lisan baginda agar ia tidak mengatasi wahyu Al-Qur'an—suatu pandangan jauh ke hadapan bagi menyelamatkan umat daripada terjerumus dalam sifat kaku keterlaluan terhadap teks.

Sebahagian sarjana berhujah bahawa hanya tuntutan teras—“Menuntut ilmu itu adalah kewajipan bagi setiap Muslim”—mempunyai keabsahan kanonikal, seiring dengan suruhan Al-Qur'an (seperti Surah Al-Mujadila 58:11). Mereka menganggap peluasan ke negeri China itu sekadar hiasan bahasa. Namun, akibat terlalu ksubur dengan susur galur asal-usul, para sarjana kuno mahupun moden terlepas pandang iktibar utamanya: mereka gagal mencungkil muatan intelektual yang tersirat.

Bandingkan pendekatan mereka dengan cara seorang pelajar muda dari Indonesia, Bina Izzatu Dini, merungkai kekusutan teologi ini.

Semasa memohon kemasukan ke sebuah universiti di Negeri Cina, Bina mengetepikan sama sekali perdebatan yang tidak bermakna itu. Dalam karangannya, beliau mengelak daripada perangkap dalam pertikaian agama dengan menganggap ungkapan tersebut secara mudah sebagai sebuah peribahasa Arab. Selepas sering mendengarnya sejak kecil, beliau akhirnya berhenti sejenak untuk bertanyakan soalan asas: Mengapa Negeri Cina? Sifat ingin tahunya kian bercambah apabila menyedari satu hakikat ironi harian—sejadah dan replika kota Mekah di tanah airnya sendiri rupanya dibuat di sana.

Daripada terus bertengkar mengenai rantai perawi, Bina menyelidik sejarah. Beliau mendapati bahawa hubungan diplomatik dan perdagangan antara Dunia Arab dengan Negara Cina telah bermula seawal zaman Khalifah Ketiga, Uthman bin Affan—malah mungkin lebih awal lagi. Mekah terletak di laluan darat Jalur Sutera. Bagi seorang pedagang berpengalaman seperti Rasulullah s.a.w., Negeri Cina bukanlah satu alam misteri yang tidak diketahui; ia adalah pusat tamadun, perdagangan, dan pertukangan yang terbilang.

Mengkaji sejarahnya yang berpijak di bumi nyata ini berbeza sama sekali dengan dakwaan pendakwah terkenal. Mufti Ismail Menk, mithalnya, pernah mendakwa dalam satu ceramah di Malaysia bahawa Rasulullah s.a.w. tidak mungkin mengenali Negeri Cina sama juga seperti seperti Baginda tidak mengenali Tanah Melayu. Menk menggunakan premis yang rapuh itu untuk menolak riwayat berkenaan secara bulat-bulat. Sebaliknya penyelidikan ringkas Bina ternyata jauh lebih kukuh dari sudut sejarah berbanding penolakan terburu-buru si Mufti Menk.

Hasilnya karangan Bina telah memenanginya biasiswa penuh untuk menuntut ilmu di universiti di Negeri Cina.

Itulah penaakulan kritis dalam amalan. Ketika orang lain menghabiskan tenaga dalam pusaran wacana yang berputar-putar, beliau mencungkil iktibar praktikal daripada teks tersebut dan membuka jalan bagi kemajuan pendidikannya sendiri.

Satu lagi riwayat popular mengingatkan kita bahawa “penawar bagi kejahilan itu tidak lain hanyalah melalui suka dan berminat bertanya.” Prinsip dan kebiasaan itu adalah teras pemikiran kritis: mempersoalkan andaian, mendalami konteks, dan menguji premis sebelum membuat kesimpulan. Dengan mengajukan soalan yang betul, Bina meraih ganjaran pendidikan bertaraf dunia—satu keuntugan yang nyata dan diperoleh terus di bumi ini, tanpa menunggu hari Akhirat!

Selanjutnya:  Meneroka Hadis Dengan Murid Di Amerika

Beyond Pedantry: Seek Knowledge Even If you Have To Go To China

 Beyond Pedantry - Seek Knowledge Even If You Have to go to China

M. Bakri Musa

Excerpt from my book Qur’an, Hadith, And Hikayat:  Exercises In Critical Thinking

September 6, 2066 

 

When esteemed ulama and local village lebai debate the famous narration—“Seek knowledge even unto China”—they invariably trap themselves in the swamp of isnad (chain of transmission) controversies. Hours are wasted squabbling over whether the narration is sahih (authentic), da’if (weak), or mawdu (fabricated). They mistake the packaging for the payload.

Unlike archaeology, where carbon-dating offers empirical boundaries via ink and parchment, authenticating oral traditions centuries after the fact is inherently imprecise. The Prophet himself (pbuh) cautioned against recording his spoken words to prevent them from eclipsing the Qur’anic revelation—a foresight meant to save the ummah from getting bogged down in textual pedantry.

Some scholars argue that only the core instruction, “Seeking knowledge is a duty upon every Muslim,” carries canonical weight, pointing to its resonance with Qur’anic imperatives (such as Surah Al-Mujadila 58:11). They dismiss the geographical extension to China as mere literary embellishment. Yet, in obsessing over provenance, both ancient and modern scholars miss the point entirely: they neglect to extract the intellectual payload.

Consider how a young Indonesian student, Bina Izzatu Dini, cut right through this theological knot.

Applying to a university in China, Bina bypassed the sterile debate altogether. In her essay, she sidestepped theological quicksand by treating the statement simply as an enduring Arabic proverb. Having heard the saying since childhood, she eventually paused to ask a fundamental question: Why China? Her curiosity was further piqued by an everyday irony—realizing that even the prayer mats (sejadah) and structural models of Mecca in her native Indonesia were manufactured in China.

Rather than arguing over chains of transmission, Bina investigated history. She discovered that diplomatic and trade connections between the Arabian Peninsula and China trace back to the third Caliph, Uthman ibn Affan—if not earlier. Mecca sat along key overland branches of the Silk Road. For a seasoned merchant like the Prophet, China was not a mythical void; it was a recognized pinnacle of civilization, trade, and technical mastery.

Her grounded historical inquiry stands in stark contrast to the claims of popular celebrity preachers. Mufti Ismail Menk, for instance, once asserted during a lecture in Malaysia that the Prophet could no more have known of China than he did of Malaysia—using that flawed premise to dismiss the narration outright. Bina’s straightforward inquiry proved far more historically grounded than the Mufti's quick dismissal.

The tangible outcome? Bina’s essay secured her a full university scholarship to China.

That is critical thinking in practice. While others burned energy in endless scholastic circularity, she extracted actionable insight from the text and opened a door to her own educational advancement.

Another well-known narration reminds us that “the only cure for ignorance is to ask questions.” That principle forms the bedrock of critical inquiry: questioning assumptions, probing context, and examining premises before arriving at conclusions. By asking the right questions, Bina gained a world-class education in the present—a tangible dividend earned right here on earth without having to wait for the Hereafter.

Next:  Hadith Lessons With American Junior High School Students

Kajian Sisa Penjajahan Yang Merepek

 Kajian Sisa Penjajahan Yang Merepek

M. Bakri Musa

2 hb September 2026

 

Kecenderongan untuk mengejar kajian sisa penjajahan dalam kalangan cendekiawan Melayu semasa bukan sahaja satu lorong buntu intelektual, ia adalah satu gangguan ketara daripada tugas mendesak, yakni membina negara. Mengkecualiankan tokoh raksasa seperti pakar psikiatri kelahiran Martinique, Frantz Fanon, dan ahli falsafah Algeria, Malek Bennabi, kebanyakan apa yang dijaja sebagai kajian sisa penjajahan hari ini tidak lebih daripada sekadar membuang masa dan tenaga. Ini ternampak benar dengan tokoh cendikawan Melayu. 

 

Satu pemerhatian yang jelas: walaupun penjajahan British memberi kesan kepada seluruh rakyat Malaysia, taksub penyahjajahan ini secara keterlaluan merupakan satu kesibukan cerdikpandai Melayu sahaja. Kajian mereka lemah dari dua segi. Pertama, mereka melukis imperialisme dengan berus yang kasar serta tidak teliti, mengabaikan perbezaan nyata serta halus antara, katakanlah, pemerintahan Perancis di Afrika Utara dengan hegemoni Belanda di Hindia Timur. Malah di dalam Empayar British sendiri pun pengalaman Malaysia amat berbeza daripada pengalaman di benua kecil India. Namun, di sebalik perit dan seksaan sejarah penjajahan di Asia Selatan, lebih separuh daripada penduduk di benua kecil itu akan menaiki pesawat ke London esok jika diberi visa. 

 

Kedua, para cendekiawan kita kekurangan perspektif sejarah. Berkurun penjajahan Barat di Tanah Melayu—bermula dengan Portugis, kemudian Belanda, dan akhirnya British—tidak mampu menandingi kejamnya, penderitaannya, dan ketakutan semasa 44 bulan Pendudukan Jepun ketika Perang Dunia Kedua. Namun, apabila Perdana Menteri Mahathir memperkenalkan Dasar Pandang Timur pada tahun 1980-an, rakyat Malaysia menjiwai Jepun dengan penuh semangat sebagai teladan ekonomi dan budaya, tanpa terbeban sedikit pun oleh dendam sejarah. 

 

Penjajahan hanyalah satu cara Barat mengimpit Dunia Ketiga. Lihatlah bagaimana Amerika Syarikat menghancurkan Vietnam pada pertengahan abad ke-20, atau menggugurkan bom atom di Hiroshima dan Nagasaki, atau membumihanguskan semenanjung Korea kurang daripada sedekad kemudian. Tetapi hari ini Jepun dan Korea Selatan bersekutu dengan Washington DC di rantau ini. 

 

Vietnam mempamerkan iktibar yang lebih tajam tentang realisme pragmatik. Walaupun ingatan terhadap peristiwa My Lai dan sumpahan Agent Orange masih segar, rakyat Vietnam memilih untuk menumpukan perhatian kepada masa depan daripada terus meratapi nasib sebagai mangsa. Pemimpin dan cendekiawan semasa di Hanoi tidak menunjukkan sebarang minat terhadap gerakan 'Anti-Amerika.' Sebaliknya, Vietnam telah mengubah dirinya menjadi destinasi utama bagi modal dan pelancong Amerika. Fikiran mereka mudah dan praktikal: perang itu sememangnya mengerikan dan parutnya masih berdarah, tetapi keutamaan mesti diberikan untuk membina masa depan yang makmur bagi generasi yang akan datang daripada membebankan mereka dengan dendam masa lalu. 

 

Bagi Malaysia, renungkan peranan serta pengaruh pemerintahan British tidak boleh dinafikan. Ianya luas, dan amat penting kepada kepimpinan kita. Itulah yang tidak menyenangkan hati mereka yang masih lagi mempunyai perasaan anti penjajah. Renungkan, daripada sepuluh Perdana Menteri Malaysia, tujuh daripadanya—termasuk Perdana Menteri semasa, Anwar Ibrahim—mendapat manfaat besar daripada institusi atau tradisi pendidikan British. Bapa Merdeka, Tunku Abdul Rahman, mendapat pendidikan di Cambridge. Anwar Ibrahim, walaupun bukan alumni universiti British, bersekolah di Kolej Melayu Kuala Kangsar—sebuah institusi yang jelas dengan misinya sebagai 'Eton di Timur.' Pengetuanya merupakan pegawai kolonial yang dilukiskan oleh beliau sendiri dengan penuh nostalgia. Kemudian, untuk melarikan diri daripada kemarahan Dr. Mahathir, Anwar menghabiskan masa berbilang tahun di Barat, berwacana di Oxford dan Johns Hopkins. 

 

Sebaliknya, renungkan tiga Perdana Menteri yang mendapat pendidikan tempatan dan tidak menerima bimbingan British. Tidak banyak perkara untuk dibanggakan oleh mereka: pentadbiran Abdullah Badawi sudah lama dilupakan, manakala si Muhyiddin Yassin dan Ismail Sabri kini berdepan tuduhan rasuah yang besar. Si Najib Razak pula, walaupun dia berpendidikan British tetapi dia bertanggungjawab atas pecah amanah terbesar dengan Syarikat 1MDB. Dia merupakan pengecualian yang hina kepada pemerhatian tersebut.

 

Ini mungkin kedengaran janggal pada hari ini, tetapi apabila Tunku Abdul Rahman merundingkan kemerdekaan negara pada pertengahan 1950-an, halangan utamanya datang bukan dari Pejabat Kolonial British, tetapi daripada Raja-Raja Melayu. Mereka sibuk untuk mempertahankan hak keistimewaan feudal mereka. 

 

Pengalaman saya mencerminkan era ini. Saya menghabiskan tahun awal persekolahan di bawah sistem British, di mana kebanyakan guru saya adalah warga asing atau pegawai kolonial. Guru Bahasa Inggeris saya semasa Darjah Enam ialah seorang lulusan Oxford. Renungkan seorang berkelulusan Yale mengajar di sebuah luar bandar California. Saya menghadapi peperiksaan Senior Cambridge yang sama persis seperti pelajar di England. Maknanya, apabila saya mendapat A, saya tidak dinilai berdasarkan kelonggaran markah; saya telah menewaskan budak sekolah elit berblazer biru di England atas medan mereka sendiri. 

 

Daripada bertarung dengan kincir angin dan mengejar bayangan iblis atas nama 'penyahjajahan,' cendekiawan Melayu lebih baik mengambil iktibar daripada Barat—mempelajari apa yang patut dicontohi, dan yang paling penting lagi, apa yang patut dijauhkan. Apabila tokoh hebat Zaman Kegemilangan Islam membina empayar intelektual mereka, mereka tidak menolak karya ahli falsafah Yunani yang ateis dan politeistik; mereka mengkajinya, menterjemahkannya, dan membina ilmu di atasnya. Jika tokoh Islam zaman silam mampu belajar tanpa rasa takut daripada orang Yunani kafir untuk mencetuskan Zaman Pembaharuan Islam (Renaissance), mengapa cendekiawan Melayu moden perlu gentar untuk memanfaatkan warisan bekas penjajah mereka? Itulah pemikiran yang wajar direnungkan tatkala Malaysia menyambut ulang tahun kemerdekaan yang ke-69 pada 31 Ogos ini. 

 

The Puerile Pursuit of Decolonization Studies

 The Puerile Pursuit of Decolonization Studies

M. Bakri Musa

August 26, 2026

The puerile obsession with “decolonization” studies among contemporary Malay academics is not just an intellectual dead end; it is a profound distraction from the urgent work of nation-building.

With the notable exceptions of such intellectual titans like the Martinique-born psychiatrist Frantz Fanon and the Algerian philosopher Malek Bennabi, most of what passes for decolonization scholarship today is little more than academic navel-gazing. This is especially true of the Malaysian variety. One immediate, telling observation: although British colonial rule shaped all Malaysians, this decolonization obsession is overwhelmingly a Malay phenomenon.

These self-absorbed studies suffer from two fatal flaws. First, they paint imperialism with a broad, lazy brush, ignoring the stark as well as subtle distinctions between, say, French rule in North Africa and Dutch hegemony in the East Indies. Even within the British Empire the Malaysian experience was vastly different from that of the Indian subcontinent. Yet, despite the undeniable scars and trauma of colonial history in South Asia, more than half of the residents on the subcontinent would board a flight to London tomorrow if granted a visa.

Second, these scholars lack historical perspective. Centuries of Western domination in Malaya—first under the Portuguese, then the Dutch, and finally the British—did not come close in sheer brutality, deprivation, and terror to the 44-month Japanese Occupation during the Second World War. Yet, when Mahathir introduced his Look East Policy in the 1980s, Malaysians enthusiastically embraced Japan as an economic and cultural role model, entirely unburdened by historical grudges.

Colonialism, after all, was merely one vector of Western dominance. Consider how the United States laid waste to Vietnam in the mid-twentieth century, or dropped atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, or incinerated the Korean peninsula less than a decade later. Today, Japan and South Korea stand as Washington’s premier regional allies.

Vietnam presents an even sharper lesson in pragmatic realism. Despite fresh memories of My Lai and the enduring curse of Agent Orange, the Vietnamese chose to focus on the future rather than wallow in victimhood. Current leaders and intellectuals in Hanoi display zero appetite for “De-Americanization” crusades. Instead, Vietnam has transformed itself into a prime destination for American capital and tourists. Their logic is as simple as it is practical: the war was horrific and the scars remain raw, but the priority must be building a prosperous future for the next generation rather than burdening them with the grievances of the past.

For Malaysia, the legacies of British rule are undeniable, pervasive, and—most inconveniently for the decolonization crowd—instrumental to our leadership. Of Malaysia’s ten Prime Ministers, seven—including current Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim—benefited immensely from British educational institutions or traditions. The nation’s founding father, Tunku Abdul Rahman, was educated at Cambridge. Anwar Ibrahim, while not an alumnus of a British university, was nurtured at the Malay College Kuala Kangsar—an institution explicit in its mission as an “Eton of the East”—where his headmasters were colonials for whom he has written with fond nostalgia. Later, to escape Mahathir’s wrath, Anwar spent years in the West, intellectualizing at Oxford and Johns Hopkins.

By contrast, the three Prime Ministers who were locally educated and thus lacked British tutelage offer little to boast about: Abdullah Badawi’s tenure was largely forgettable, while Muhyiddin Yassin and Ismail Sabri now face severe corruption charges. Najib Razak, British-educated yet responsible for the staggering 1MDB scandal, stands as the tragic, ignominious exception to my observation.

It may sound perverse to contemporary ears, but when Tunku Abdul Rahman negotiated Malaya's independence in the mid-1950s, his main obstacles came not from the British Colonial Office, but from his own Malay Rulers, who fiercely guarded their feudal prerogatives.

My own experience reflects this era. I spent my early schooling under the British system, where most of my teachers were foreigners or colonials. My sixth-grade English teacher was an Oxonian—the equivalent of having a Yale graduate teaching at an elementary school in Los Banos, in California’s Central Valley. I sat for the exact same Cambridge examinations as students in England. When I earned an A, I knew I had not been graded on a curve; I had bested the blue-blazered public school boys in Old England on their own terms.

Rather than tilting at windmills and chasing imaginary demons in the name of “decolonization,” Malay intellectuals would be far better served absorbing the lessons of the West—learning what to emulate, and just as critically, what to avoid. When the great scholars of the Islamic Golden Age built their intellectual empire, they did not reject the works of atheistic and polytheistic Greek philosophers; they studied them, translated them, and built upon them.

If ancient Muslim luminaries could fearlessly and enthusiastically learn from pagan Greeks to ignite an Islamic Renaissance, why should modern Malay scholars cower from engaging with the legacy of their former colonizer? That is a thought worth pondering as Malaysia marks the 69th anniversary of Merdeka this August 31st.

Excerpt from my Qur’an, Hadith, and Hikayat:  Exercises In Critical Thinking will resume next week.