like war, and public mourning.
It was like war.
Two days under the radar. One day in insertion, and the next whipped past like a bad backlash. I smelled. Sweat, heat and desperation. The jungle was pungent with the alien and the green. Two days under rain and more rain. I smelled the rain, and the ozone of lightning-activated air.
Thinking. Thinking, thinking, thinking.
And it almost had that kind of drama. He wished me well, and I smiled. Our cars were parked outside. We waited, fidgetting with our pens. I considered the ways they could fuck us over. The first day was an open question. The second was a closed case.
I got an sms alert yesterday from Maxis/Star at about 8.30 am, . Datin Endon had passed away at about 7.55 am. I was startled, and my thoughts were with PM Badawi for a brief moment before focusing on the battles I had that day.
I came back and loaded up PPS and saw, as I expected, many tributes. Condolences. I entertained a thought that made me feel slightly callous. I wondered why so many wrote heartfelt entries. I asked myself if they knew Datin Endon personally, if they shared their life with her. Who was the sympathy for? PM Badawi?
I come up with a blank. But then I start thinking in general terms. There was Princess Diana. There was the Pope John Paul II. There was Canny Ong. And now, there is Datin Endon. And I thought about all the heartfelt entries. And the word “mourning” popped up. “Mourning”?
No, public mourning. Do a google search. I found an entry, a definition for public mourning at MedicineNet.com over here. A better read will be this one. Someone buy it for me? Ha! The booklet’s Conspicuous Compassion.
West says there is often a grisly competition to see who can display their grief most vividly. He notes that the traditional minute’s silence is now becoming ‘two minutes, even three and occasionally 10′. ‘They are getting longer and we are having more of them, because we want to be seen to care.’ He notes that where there was one minute’s silence across much of America in 1912 for those who died on the Titanic, EU countries observed three minutes’ silence for the victims of 9/11 in 2001, while friends of the murdered British schoolgirl Milly Dowler gathered for a five-minute silence in her memory in 2002. ‘Does this mean the 9/11 disaster was three times as bad as the Titanic disaster’, he asks, ‘or that the horrible death of an innocent girl was five times as tragic?’.
For West, such public displays of grief do not show that we have become more altruistic, but more selfish. The deaths of celebrities and strangers ’serve as an opportunity to (in)articulate our own unhappiness, and, by doing so in public, to form new social ties to replace those that have disappeared’. At a time when ‘binding institutions such as the Church, marriage, the family and the nation have withered’, says West, we seek new outlets for public connection.
An interesting excerpt I think. Note, the above is just a general observation with nothing pertaining to Datin Endon herself, or PM Badawi. Brendan O’Neill’s conclusion in his article also bears mention:
In many ways, the rise of the politics of emotion is a response to the demise of the old politics. The exhaustion of traditional movements of both left and right, and the loss of authority experienced by established political institutions, has given rise to a lot of soul-searching among leaders about how they can ‘connect’ with a new constituency - and often, they seem able to do this only in response to terrible tragedies or senseless deaths. As West asks: ‘[W]hat kind of society requires the horrific deaths of children to bond together?’
It probably doesn’t apply here, mostly because I don’t think most Malaysians are even aware of leftist or rightist political views or even subscribe to them. But I suppose the point of his conclusion is most important: while we do not have the kind of liberal politics practiced in western countries, it wouldn’t be off to say that the public in general here is rather weary of the efficacy of the political process. A generalization of course and worse, anecdotal. What are we really connecting with? All of us remember the Canny Ong incident, and it’s just the sort of incident West talks about. Our horror at how she died. Our loathing.
What’s really happening?


It’s lil bit like ‘charity’. Often (and unconsciously) doing it make us feel or look a lil better about ourselves. Certain concepts are so ennobling, merely the invoking of their names is ennobling - charity, compassion, prayer… what else? Why else must our grief/compassion be so public? What do charity campaigns that focus more on the giver than receiver tell us?
Comment by percolator — Sunday, 23 October 2005 @ 10:57 am
That’s the problem, isn’t it? Charity shows like the sort they have in Singapore each year (Mediacorp “specials”), demonstrations against war, charity runs for this organisation or that organisation; I there is deep down an intrinsic and genuine desire to help, but separating that from our own motivations seems difficult some times.
I think there will be those who do willingly admit that they give because it makes them feel good, especially the more realistic kind of person. Like them, I don’t think anyone of us is capable of an egoless altruism. But if so, does this taint the act of charity?
That aside, I think the conclusions drawn by West are interesting because, besides the more abstract questions of altruism, there exists this almost global phenomenon of public displays of grief. It isn’t just about making oneself feel good anymore, it’s about letting people see that we are, intrinsically, ‘good’ people.
There was this piece on… Friday, I believe, in the NST denouncing the insensitivity of people who, upon reports of Datin Endon’s death, began emailing others spreading rumours Monday a holiday.
In West’s own comments about the ruckus surrounding his book (the link is at the bottom of the above article), he notes how the greatest crime, something I’d label “guiltless crime”, today is being seen as insensitive.
It’s like the argument from pity all over again, only this time if you are an interlocutor who dismisses an argument from pity, you become excoriated by others who accept the argument.
On further reflection, I was just as guilty when I poured scorn on MENJ’s post on Datin Endon’s death and his insensitve comments (because they were insensitive). I suppose I can only offer the flimsy justification of a personal outrage at his comments, but in the context of what we’re discussing, it still feels to me that my reaction was a part of this whole mass of public mourning.
This whole situation is just simply bizarre, because of such an excess of emotionalism.
Comment by xpyre — Sunday, 23 October 2005 @ 12:22 pm
You’re absolutely right about ‘egoless altruism’ bit. It doesn’t taint the fruit of charity vis the receipient.
Still, charity for ‘profit’, (in whatever form), and profit-before-pity… well, I suppose they can become extremely issues in the context of virtues/ethics/morality.
Comment by percolator — Sunday, 23 October 2005 @ 4:58 pm
I meant “complex issues in the context…”
And I was thinking the exact thing about the outpouring of grief upon Endon’s death, (compare this to the deafening silence on the death of tens of thousands in the recent earthquake), how we came by this ‘First Lady’ title, and how exactly she earned it… but it seemed so unpolitically correct to say so.
Might one death have more ‘ennobling potential’ than tens of thousands of others? Bizarre is the word.
Comment by percolator — Sunday, 23 October 2005 @ 5:06 pm
From the evidence at hand, it does seem as if the death of single public personality generates more emotive force and has a more ‘ennobling effect’ than the death of a thousand faceless people. But I think you may have hit on the point; the death of faceless people we have no idea about derives no emotional attachments. I think even the scenes of death and destruction in Pakistan doesn’t evoke in me at least any emotional attachment except for the most general of feelings — which would be too hopelessly abstract for any of those feelings to affect me at the core.
With a public figure, I suppose the glamour is in the attachments we tend to form, whether justified or not, in what they may represent rather than who they are, which might be why quite a number of us ignore the fact that we know next to nothing personal about these public figures when we ‘mourn’ their passing.
Comment by xpyre — Monday, 24 October 2005 @ 9:10 pm
tsk… tsk… so *disrespectful/insensitive* of me to be pondering this phenomenon. http://kopipengkau.blogspot.com/2005/10/compassion.html
Amazing.
Comment by percolator — Tuesday, 25 October 2005 @ 11:06 am
What to do? Insensitivity is a vile sin…
Comment by xpyre — Tuesday, 25 October 2005 @ 5:52 pm