However, on board the remaining ships was a chronicler, Antonio Pigafetta, and four of his early manuscripts survive today.

Among his descriptions of the cultures Pigafetta came across in the East Indies, was the practice of men inserting tiny bells into their penises, said historian Farish Noor at a recent talk he gave in Kuala Lumpur. There was a constant tinkling as the men went about their business.

Courtship, in these societies, might involve "a man standing outside the girl's window and 'shaking his rattle' as it were," joked Farish. "Romeo, beneath Juliet's balcony, wouldn't have been able to compete."

The point to note however, was the objective, non-judgemental tone that Pigafetta took. Europeans at that time, Farish emphasised, didn't see themselves as superior to the native peoples they came across. You get a sense, when reading early accounts, that they saw themselves as equals.

Farish Noor giving his talk

 
By the 19th century however, everything had changed. Europeans thought of themselves as a superior race, rightfully colonising whole swathes of Asia and Africa. With this idea came the necessity to control what individual Europeans did in their relations with the "natives", lest they undermine the standing of an entire ruling class through their thoughtless actions.

Many of the sex laws that the Europeans imposed on our countries were motivated, in Farish's view, by this need to maintain European dignity and keep them apart from the "natives". Thus in some countries, it became a criminal offence to have sex with locals. It would be too destabilising to the colonial order to breed little brown Europeans, who might demand equivalent rights.

But if the notion of European men shagging native women (e.g. their housekeepers) was unacceptable, much worse would be the thought of European men opening their legs to be sodomised by native men, perhaps their male servants. This was the unspoken panic, argued Farish, that led to the sodomy laws we see today.

* * * * *

 
Look and you'll see panic is all around. Today, no less than yesterday.

I saw it at work in Malaysia when I attended Seksualiti Merdeka, a weekend of events organised by the Annexe Gallery in Kuala Lumpur, of which Farish Noor's talk was one. In many of the forums held, there was a huge elephant in the room -– political Islam. Speakers mentioned the country's sodomy law, the swearing on the Q'uran to attest innocence [1], and the arrests of cross-dressers by the Religious Police. Cross-dressing is an offence punishable with imprisonment under Shari'a law, and punishable with a fine through a vague interpretation of "public indecency" under civil law. Yet, it was difficult to get to grips with the issues because few wanted to get too close to the elephant.

The problem is that the position of Islam in Malaysia is intricately linked with the concept of Ketuanan Melayu (Malay dominance). To criticise the uses and abuses of Islam and the actions of religious authorities is quickly seen as an attempt to question the political and economic privileges that the Malay ethnic group enjoys. In Malaysia, the Malays are by definition Muslim. This being the case, how does one contest the moral prescriptions behind the sodomy and other laws that regulate sexuality, without being accused of sedition against the Malay-dominant state?

Far more well known than Islam's sex laws are the many laws that control religious identity. New "conversion cases" hit the headlines regularly: Muslims who want to leave the religion but cannot, body-snatching by religious authorities for burial under Muslim rites against the wishes of the family, divorces caught between Shari'a and civil law when one spouse converts to Islam after marriage. Most recently, the government insisted that only Muslims can use the word "Allah" for God. Malay-language Bibles, for example cannot.

In these, you again see panic at work. A certain ruling class, anxious to defend its position, takes great pains to control who gets admitted into the class, to prevent defection from it, to control the moral behaviour of the members of that class, and even to demand exclusive use of vocabulary. It is made clear that to question such measures would be extremely sensitive politically.

Quite a few people skipped a couple of heartbeats when I accidentally prodded the elephant. It was during question time after a talk by a researcher who presented a glimpse into her not-yet-finished study of how gay and lesbian Christians (in Singapore and Malaysia) reconcile their faith with a sexual orientation that their churches frown on.

Forgetting to introduce myself, I stood up to share an observation. I have come across not a few Malays, I said, who were so hurt or frustrated with Islam's teachings on homosexuality, that they left Islam altogether, but the funny thing was they often went over to Christianity, rather than become atheists or Buddhists. There is somehow this strange idea that Christianity was more accepting than Islam.

The organiser hastened to clarify that I was speaking from the perspective of Singapore, not about Malaysia. In Singapore, Muslims can leave the religion anytime they wish. To suggest that Malaysian Muslims can do likewise would be explosive.

Needless to say, my point was not taken up in further discussion.

These are mines sown on the ground out of a ruling class' racial and religious panic.

* * * * *

 
A few days ago, there was this story in our leading English daily:

Straits Times
3 September 2008

Clergy 'wary of inter-faith talks' 

Nearly half of Christian leaders fear such dialogue will compromise their beliefs: Poll 
By Li Xueying

The bulk of Christian clergymen in Singapore are apprehensive about inter-faith dialogue, said a sociologist who is also a Pentecostal church pastor.

Dr Mathew Mathews came to this conclusion after conducting a survey of clergymen here.

One of its key findings: Nearly 50 per cent feared inter-faith dialogue would compromise their religious convictions.

Dr Mathews, a visiting fellow at the National University of Singapore's sociology department and who is trained in theology, interviewed 183 clergymen for his study.

It sought to determine how Christian leaders relate to others in Singapore's multi-religious society.

The key findings were presented at a forum organised by the Institute of Policy Studies (IPS) yesterday on religious diversity in Singapore. Attended by 200 religious leaders and academics, it also saw the launch of a book on the same subject.

[skip]

Dr Mathews noted that Christianity in Singapore tends to be conservative, evangelical, 'embracing an exclusivist stance' in viewing other religions.

This spills into the clergymen's attitudes towards collaborating with other religions: 41.5 per cent would find it difficult to collaborate with a non-Christian religious leader for a charity drive.

They fear it would lead to the perception that 'all religions are equal'.

[truncated]

Do you see the same panic at work? The boundary must be vigilantly policed to prevent contact. Even dialogue is a risk, lest it be seen as a concession that "we, the anointed" are not anointed after all.

© Yawning Bread