Beyond Colonial Shadows
FOR many Sarawakians and Malaysians in general who grew up in post-independence Malaysia, the English language still carries a certain historical weight. To some, it feels like a reminder of a colonial past rather than a tool for the future. That perception, however, is slowly – and necessarily – being challenged.
When Premier Datuk Patinggi Tan Sri Abang Johari Tun Openg recently reminded Sarawakians that English should no longer be viewed as a colonial language but recognised as a global and international one, he was not merely making a linguistic point. He was making a statement about mindset, opportunity and the kind of future we want our children to inherit.
Let us be clear from the outset: Bahasa Malaysia is, and must remain, our national language. It is the backbone of our identity, unity and nationhood. It binds us as Malaysians, regardless of race, religion or region. But in a world that is increasingly borderless – economically, digitally and intellectually – language is no longer just about who we are. It is also about where we can go.
Today’s global economy does not operate in a single tongue. Research papers, technological manuals, business negotiations, international conferences and digital platforms overwhelmingly rely on English as their common medium. Whether we like it or not, English has become the default language of knowledge exchange.
The question, then, is not whether embracing English weakens our national identity. The real question is whether rejecting it limits our national potential.
For our children, the digital world is their classroom as much as their physical one. A student in a longhouse in Baram or a school in Kuching can now access lectures from top universities, tutorials from international educators and global forums discussing everything from climate change to artificial intelligence. But access alone is not enough. Understanding is what turns information into opportunity – and understanding, more often than not, comes through English.
This is why the Premier’s remarks at the opening of Yayasan Sarawak International Secondary School in Kuching deserve deeper reflection beyond the headline. His emphasis on bilingual – and even multilingual – proficiency speaks to a vision of Sarawakians who are rooted locally but fluent globally.
There is something profoundly empowering about that idea.
Mastering English does not mean abandoning Bahasa Malaysia. In fact, the most confident societies are often the most linguistically versatile. Countries like Japan, Germany and South Korea fiercely protect their national languages while simultaneously ensuring their citizens can compete internationally through English and other foreign languages. Their identity is not diluted by this – it is strengthened by relevance.
Sarawak, with its rich tapestry of cultures and languages – Iban, Bidayuh, Melanau, Orang Ulu, Mandarin, Malay and many more – already understands, perhaps better than most, that language is not a threat. It is a bridge.
The Premier’s encouragement to learn additional languages such as Mandarin or even French also points to a larger truth: in the modern world, communication is currency. It opens doors to trade, diplomacy, education and cultural exchange. A young Sarawakian who can navigate multiple languages is not just employable – they are adaptable. And adaptability is fast becoming the most valuable skill of all.
There is also a social dimension to this conversation that we cannot ignore.
For some families, especially in rural or underserved areas, English still feels distant — something reserved for elite schools, urban centres or international universities. If we truly believe that language is a tool for empowerment, then access to quality English education must not become another line that divides the privileged from the marginalised.
Sarawak’s strong support for education, including government-funded tuition fees at local universities and partnerships with institutions like Swinburne University of Technology, reflects a commitment to leveling that playing field. But the journey begins much earlier than university. It starts in classrooms where children are encouraged not just to memorise grammar rules, but to speak, question, debate and express themselves without fear of making mistakes.
Because language confidence is built through use, not perfection.
One of the quiet tragedies in many classrooms is not poor English, but silent students – children who know the answer but hesitate to raise their hand because they are afraid of being judged for their pronunciation or phrasing. If we want a generation that can engage the world, we must first create spaces where they feel safe engaging with each other.
There is also a deeply practical side to this debate.
Sarawak’s economic ambitions – in renewable energy, hydrogen, semiconductors, aerospace and digital industries – are inherently global in nature. Investors, researchers, engineers and partners in these sectors operate across continents. Negotiations happen in boardrooms and video calls that rarely default to Bahasa Malaysia. If we want Sarawakians not just to participate but to lead in these industries, language proficiency becomes a form of economic infrastructure – just as important as roads, ports and broadband.
Perhaps it is time we stop framing English as a legacy of the past and start seeing it as a tool of the future.
A hammer does not belong to the person who invented it. It belongs to the person who knows how to use it to build something better.
In the same way, English today does not “belong” to any one nation or history. It belongs to the millions who use it to learn, trade, innovate and connect. The more fluently Sarawakians can speak it – alongside Bahasa Malaysia and our mother tongues – the more confidently we can tell our own stories on the global stage.
At its heart, this is not a debate about language. It is a debate about aspiration.
Do we want our children to inherit a world that feels smaller or larger? Do we want them to watch global conversations from the sidelines, or step into them as equal voices?
The Premier’s message, stripped to its essence, is simple but powerful: identity and openness are not opposites. They are partners.
And in a rapidly changing world, the ability to speak across cultures may be one of the greatest gifts we can give the next generation.
The views expressed here are those of the writer and do not necessarily represent the views of Sarawak Tribune. The writer can be reached at drnagrace@gmail.com.
