Yes, it’s Raya. And here I am at my desk, at work. Never mind. Fortunately my favourite Thai restaurant is open today, so I had a lovely time stuffing my face with tod man pla and nasi goreng kampung at lunchtime (yes, this is a Thai restaurant that has dishes with Malay names; and I tell you what, it’s just as well I had mango juice with my meal, because it helped to neutralise all the chillies that are now merrily dancing in my gut!). I was also feeling very anti-social, so it was just me and a book during the meal. Bliss. I’ve also managed to buy some turmeric (kunyit) and ghee, so I can continue stuffing my face tonight when I make nasi minyak and either a curry or a kurma.

But never mind all that. What I really want to blog about today is the movie we saw yesterday, The Last Communist. This was produced by Amir Muhammad (some of you may remember that he wrote a column in the New Straits Times when he was at school; if I remember correctly he had a schoolfriend - Mario? - who also wrote a column for the NST, and it was these two columns, along with Dina Zaman’s Dina’s Dalca, that I used to read religiously during my schooldays) and is being screened as part of the London Film Festival.

It is ostensibly about Chin Peng, but although the film (documentary really) traces Chin Peng’s life through the various towns in Perak he used to live in, Chin Peng himself doesn’t appear in the documentary. Instead, Amir interviews various people who live in the areas and gets them to talk about their lives. I particularly liked the following characters: the Malay woman who went “Pomelos? Hmm, tak sukalah … masam.” It wasn’t what she said, but how she said it, such a typically laid-back way of speaking that we Malays have - in my mind it conjured up how we Malays would say things like tak apalah or biarlah or even alah, esokkan boleh buat jugak … it made me laugh; the Petai Boys of Bidor, a group of Indian men who cheerfully sold their petais in a streetmarket in Bidor; the Indian lady who worked in the rubber estate, for gracefully accepting the hardships of her life, yet very hopeful that her children would not follow in her footsteps.

I wasn’t quite sure what to expect of the documentary, but it turned out to be really good. How often do we get to hear what our estate workers and market traders have to say? Of course I know Malaysia isn’t just KL (just as the UK isn’t just London), but watching the interviews unfold, I was reminded that, whilst our leaders and the - dare I say it - liberal intelligentsia debate about the Pak Lah-Dr M feud, SCOMI, the bridge and whatever the current issue of the day is, there are many, many people in our country who just want to lead a better life for themselves and their children.

The other thing I found really interesting is the views of the men and women who fought for the communists during the Emergency. Most of them (and their descendents) now live in the Thailand-Malaysia border area after the peace agreements of 1989. What I found striking was how the views of these people have not changed. The peace agreement wasn’t a defeat, instead it was a “dignified agreement”. Many of them held the view that if it wasn’t for the CPM (Communist Party of Malaya), we wouldn’t have gained independence. The CPM, these people argued, “awakened” the people of Malaya. Hmm.

Whilst I couldn’t agree with their views or their interpretation of history, I couldn’t help but feel a stab (but only a little stab) of pity for these people as the documentary unfolded. They have quite simply, been left behind because of their ideology (after all, even China is now busily embracing capitalism). I couldn’t help feeling that they would rather live in their villages than give up their ideology and live amongst Malaysians.

Having watched the whole documentary, I couldn’t understand why it was banned in Malaysia. According to Amir himself, this was due to a campaign by Berita Harian to discredit his work and have it banned. Well, I guess they succeeded, but in doing so, Berita Harian is doing a great disservice to Malaysians. This documentary is anything but pro-communist. In fact, I was disgusted by some of the statements made by the ex-CPM members - one of them said that the CPM didn’t want to make life difficult for Malayans, and as an example he stated in a very matter-of-fact way that “we used to burn buses, but then our leaders told us not to, so we didn’t”, and he used that as an example of how the CPM went to great lengths not to hurt civilians. I detected no remorse nor regret from this person.

It really is a great shame that many Malaysians won’t be able to see Amir’s work. Here’s a Malaysian movie that’s good enough to be shown in various international film festivals, and what do we do? Ban it.

The Emergency has been over for more than forty years. Why is communism still a taboo subject in Malaysia? Would discussing our past history make some of us want to fly the banner of the hammer and the sickle? I don’t think so - as a Malay girl pointed out, communism wouldn’t survive in Malaysia anyway because it is an ideology that doesn’t accommodate religion. So why do we continue to shroud this bit of our history?

The Last Communist should be required viewing in Malaysia, if you ask me.

PS.  It’s also quite a funny documentary; there were huge laughs all round especially during some of the song sequences. Hubby enjoyed it too, and came out with this observation: “The Malays and to a certain extent the Indians come across as being quite comical, whilst the Chinese are quite earnest and focused.” Oh, and if you’re in London tomorrow, you can still catch it - its second (and final) screening is at 2pm tomorrow at the National Film Theatre at the South Bank.