I love Chinese idioms and these two
are particularly dear to me. They are my beacons in life. Every of these eight
characters can stand on its own.
However, simple as they sound, few of
us can profess to have practiced, or be practising, them in full. It is just
understandable; all of us are humans. Who is not vulnerable to temptations in
the absolute sense?
I am going to write about these eight
characters as each comes to my mind:
I read from today’s online news that
someone tweeted that the new airport Klia2 was operationally unsafe – hardly
after three weeks of its opening on May 2. Apparently torrential rains have
caused some parts of the apron grounds and taxiways to sink down. Malaysia
Airports Holdings Berhad (MAHB) the owner and operator was quick to point at
AirAsia for whistle-blowing and went on to say that only 1 percent of the
airport is damaged. This is what I call a lack of 恥(Chĭ) in MAHB’s
leadership. The concept of Chĭ is much more than “shame” which
is its apparent meaning. It also carries connotations of “defensiveness” and
the lack of prepared to take responsibility.
In the South Korea ferry SEWOL tragedy, the deputy head of the school where the children
were from took felt so bad that he took his own life. The prime minister also
resigned and the president went on air live to apologize to the nation. In the
case of MH370, we didn’t have anyone who felt Chĭ enough to do any of
these things. I suppose if we had had this value in our culture, then there
would be no one left to man the daily news briefing held in the aftermath of
this tragedy.
Whether any of the “take responsibility” rituals
performed by these three Koreans is warranted is debatable. In Malaysia, they
would be totally outlandish. But in countries like Korea and Japan, they are to
be expected. Malaysians may ask, so what? If we cared to see deeper, we would
see that this Chĭ culture represents the very foundation of the greatness of
these two countries in many things – safety and quality of their products, the
level of cleanliness, the sophistication of their lifestyle, their mannerism,
so on and so forth. Of course, there are always odd balls here and there to put
my argument to rest.
Coming to mannerism, it is the character Lĭ
that I should now go to. My wife and I take morning and evening walks around
our neighbourhoods every day, weather permits of course. We run into people we
know living in the neighbourhood houses and apartments, many, especially the
young, would simply breeze past you without expressing any desire to greet or
to be greeted. This state of aloofness is also very evident in Singapore. We
live in an apartment in Killiney Road for three years. Everybody seems to be
invisible to everybody in the lifts. In Sydney where we spent three years there
and in Melbourne where we now call ‘home’, strangers on your way will always
try to make eye-contacts with you to exchange greetings or at least a hello. Women,
especially the more elderly ones, in the less hectic cities of Japan can put
many of us to shame when it comes to Lĭ. The gentle bow and the soft
smile – be there in the shopping mall, or restaurants, or in tourist spots, or
in the lifts, or along the road – will tell you that you are in an entirely
different world.
Besides etiquette, Lĭ is also about decorum, conscious and respect for other cultural and religious norms. Propensity to jump queues, weave in and out of traffic, clear throat and spit, and toss things out of car and apartment windows, to the way many front gardens and back alleys are pathetically maintained, to the sloppiness of attire, to the way public toilets are being abused, and to not being sensitive to other societies' taboos, one can easily see the vast gap that still exists between us and the more refined societies.
Again, these observations are not 100%
accurate. But aren’t cultural norms are based on generalization of
observations?
I am a man of prejudices. I hate to watch
Chinese movies and dramas especially of the Hong Kong and Taiwan varieties. Few
have original themes and stories. Many are about personalities in Chinese
history. I have no problem with the latter, except this: their blatant
distortion of the history to accentuate half-truths! And about the kung-fu stuff, someone remarks: Chinese
have both Kung-fu and pandas, but
they can’t do anything close to Kung-fu
Panda! Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon
was an insult to our intelligence; if these people can fly, they don’t really
need to take such an arduous in the first place. No wonder John Howard could
use the opportunity to catch up with some sleep when he was invited to grace
the movie in Sydney! I am so contemptuous of Chinese movies and dramas that I
nearly lose my train of thought on what I am writing here!
When my wife cultivated a liking of Korean
DVDs, I left her alone until I accidentally sat through with her to watch one
of the episodes. They are indeed DIFFERENT! Not only am I an admirer of Korean
creativities in this industry, I really relish their wholesome understanding of
Lĭ
– from their practice of filial piety to the way they conduct among themselves
in neighbourhoods, communities and offices. After all, geographically Korean is
just across the province of Shandong in China. Wasn’t Kung-tze (Confucius) born
and taught there? That’s the real finger-licking good KFC of Confucianism where
Lĭ
epitomizes his philosophy and teaching. Chinese in Malaysia and
Singapore sure have a great deal to relearn Lĭ form these Koreans.
Yì (義) is synonymous with Guan Yu (關羽) or Guan-kong
of the Romance of Three Kingdoms fame that the warrior is now a deity
worshipped wherever you see Chinese. It is about honour, it is about trust, it
is about respect, it is about reciprocity and it is about humanism. It is also
about friendship, camaraderie, thoughtfulness and the likes. A subscriber of
this value is happy to lose his or her ‘head’ over the loss of some of these
shortcomings. If someone does a good deed to you, it is incumbent upon you to
reciprocate, even it means extreme sacrifices. You see these acts of
selflessness in many Korean movies and dramas. Not being able to ‘repay’ is a
sin of the highest order. Cultures in every society have both strengths and
weaknesses. We can easily stereotype some of them. Among themselves, Japanese
and Koreans uphold Yì to extreme extent. Many historical in China also exhibited
this ‘virtue’.
Yì
is you vis-à-vis your benefactor, regardless of nationality, race, religion or
colour. But as life becomes more competitive, this is increasingly taking
back-seats now. I don’t mean to be racist, but the lack of it is quite
pronounced in some communities. We had a peon in our office during my MIDA
(Malaysian Industrial Development Authority) days. He borrowed fifty ringgit
from me; not only did I have to say goodbye to that fifty ringgit, I was also
deprived of his service not long after that. He would avoid me at all cost! I
was stupid enough – chiefly out of awe and delusion of ‘privileged association’ with Who's Who –
to be enlisted by my chairman in Highlands & Lowlands, who is also a senior
member of the Perlis royal family, to be a director in his family company and
went on to act as a guarantor to a loan his company took from a bank. It was
nearly a death warrant I signed for myself! I had to suffer in silence for many
years. What is particularly hurtful is that this man did not show any sign of
remorse at all. I visited him from time to time before the fiasco; as a matter of fact, I hardly missed any of his
Hari Raya invites. He would always tell me everything was fine. Being a ‘name-only’
director, I could not do anything. Little did I realize that this man was totally bankrupt of Yì .
I never seemed to learn. A Singapore man whom
I befriended when I was in IMC asked if I was happy to go into a joint venture
with a party in Indonesia to do timber processing. I had to be the financier.
The numbers look good. I made them sign all the undertakings. The bottom soon
fell out. This Indonesian partner blatantly swallowed all the money. I sued the
Singapore party, who acted as the overall guarantor of the whole scheme.
Although he was not the culprit, he at least agreed to settle part of the debt.
At least there is some Yì in him. As for the Indonesian
party, sue him? A lawyer there promptly took my deposit of one million rupiah
(slight more than USD1K); after a few letters of demand here and there, he also
didn’t to respond to my emails any more. Personally, I do not believe in divine
interventions; but these did happen: the eldest son of the royalty passed away
very suddenly and the Indonesian is now semi-paralysed. I am sure friends would
tell me ‘cause-and-effect’ (因果, yin-guo) stuff is
for real.
I have been a beneficiary of Yì
from bosses and friends. Two are particularly thoughtful to me: Tan Sri Low Yow
Chuan and the present principal of mine. On hearing that I was heading to
Australia to settle down, Tan Sri Low lost no time in offering me a position in
Australia. Without this break, I would not be what I am today. A university
teacher struggling to make ends meet, maybe. My present principal, who shuns
publicity, shows me how wealth can benefit friends. I still can keep myself
busy, thanks to him.
Last but not least is 廉(Lián), which is ‘above board’, righteousness, humility and spiritual
cleanliness, and incorruptible conduct roll into one. Many who have lived
through the Tunku Abdul Rahman days will nostalgically talk about this element
of governance during his premiership. Corruption was present, but it was not of
the earth-shaking magnitudes. I suppose Rolex, Hermes and Louis Vuitton were not quite
known to Malaysians then.
One man whom I would like to single out to
exemplify Lián is Raja Alias, the immediate past chairman of Federal Land
Development Authority, or Felda. Ungku, as he is fondly addressed by his
friends and staff, was also chairman of Malaysian International Shipping
Corporation (MISC), Boustead and director of many companies, including Malayan
Banking. The he principally kept, which was in Felda, was Spartan by any
measure. He was fair and did not hesitate to promote non-Bumiputras if they
were good. I had the opportunity to help him build two subsidiaries in MISC: one
on container haulage and the other, port warehousing. So much was at stake in
procurement; he was totally above board. There was absolutely no air of
arrogance in him, even though he was so very powerful! Unlike many big bosses,
he was prepared to spare time to listen.
As for 公明正大 (Gōng Ming Zhèng Dà),
many prefer to lump this four-character idiom in one breath. But each of it has
its own wisdom really. Gōng is ‘subject to public
scrutiny’, ‘above board’, ‘for all to see’, ‘without personal gains’, and the
likes; Ming is transparency and not opaque; Zhèng is ‘the right or
correct or proper way’’; and Dà is the ‘big picture’. Abstract
nouns, verbs and adjectives can be tricky in Chinese language. Being a novice,
I can only explain these characters of wisdom descriptively or illustratively.
If the officials in the MH370 briefing
sessions can handle the press with full transparency, without tying their own
hands and legs with defensiveness, attempts to cover weaknesses, oversights,
and sheer ignorance, and pretensions, then there would not be so much anguish
around, let alone the conspiracy theories that have been put forward for all
and sundry to believe and spread.
Sustainable leadership also boils down to
these four characters. As a whole, it represents good governance, whether it is
about national politics, uniformed services, or in corporate suites. Devoid of
it is tantamount a complete loss of credibility. Without credibility, no
leaders can survive for long.