1 - “Mamak” and Malaysian: The Indian Muslim Quest for Identity

Summary

INTRODUCTION

Heritage Heartland: Chulia Street, Penang

To understand the story of the Indian Muslims I travel to George Town, Penang, and head for Chulia Street where Indian Muslim immigrants have lived for generations. The town–bus driver is a middle–aged Penang Indian Muslim who, reflecting Penang's ethnic diversity, speaks to his passengers in Malay, English, Tamil and Hokkien. The area is dominated by jewellers, money–changers, wholesale book traders, restaurants and superb examples of South Indian Muslim architecture, including the Nagore Shrine (1801) and the mid–nineteenth century Noordin Tomb. But the heart and soul of the community is reflected in its beautiful two–century old Kapitan Kling Mosque on nearby Pitt Street.

At the mosque entrance I am greeted by Akbar, a twenty–two–year–old Indian Muslim mosque official who is a preacher by day and trader by night (Interview, 5 April 2008). He offers me respite from the intense heat with a glass of susu bandung, a refreshing concoction of rose syrup, milk and crushed ice. Urbane, self–confident and knowledgeable, he reveals that his father is an immigrant Indian Muslim, his mother Malay. “Do you see yourself as Indian Muslim, or Malay?” I ask. He replies immediately, but in a slow, deliberate fashion, as if to obliterate all other definitions, “I…am… a…Muslim.” He appears to have solved that ambivalence — that inner tension which is often the lot of members of minorities who inhabit contested ethnic spaces — by defining himself in clear, unambiguous terms — in this case, purely as a Muslim rather than an Indian Muslim or Malay. He takes me on a tour of the mosque and invites me to observe the congregation in prayer. The diversity of its worshippers is striking — young and old, rich and poor, and from every corner of the Indian continent — but they all respond to the imam's call to prayer in harmony, as one community. It is a moving sight. Akbar hands me some reading material as I bid farewell. “Hope you find this interesting”, he says, smiling.

As I continue walking down Pitt Street I notice a Chinese man praying to a Hindu deity at a tree–shrine. I pass the Taoist Goddess of Mercy Temple (1801), St George's Church (1818) and the Hindu Mariamman Temple (1833). The world's four major religions are represented on this one street.