By Luqman Johan

A novel take on the cultural significance of nature and identity.

Before landing in Melbourne, I knew the city had a reputation for multiculturalism, a melting pot of European, Asian, and perhaps Middle Eastern influences. But after three months of living here, I discovered a unique community. Unique in the sense that despite being sociologically foundational to the city, and Australia as a whole, this culture, in all its vibrancy and heritage, does not seem to be getting the spotlight it deserves. I’m talking about the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders. These are people who’ve walked the Australian soil for more than 60 thousand years, preserving traditions, customs, and most importantly social cohesion.

As someone who identifies as Malay and Bumiputera, learning about Australian Indigenous culture has reshaped my view on indigenous identities. Here’s a perceptual shift I’ve made, reflecting on my indigenous roots:

For Indigenous Malaysians, we call ourselves Bumiputera, bumi meaning soil, and putera meaning prince or princess. Bumiputera, therefore, translates to a literal notion of royalty that speaks of the tremendous wealth and abundance we’ve inherited from the soil. We are blessed with flowing rivers and lush jungles with limestone caverns and white sand beaches.

For thousands of years, we have lived in harmony with rimba belantara — one of the most ecologically diverse and rich places on planet Earth. For thousands of years, we have sustained a sociological and spiritual connection with nature in all its forms. So if there’s one definitive representation of a Bumiputera identity, I think it should be that we are the people of flora and fauna and we ought to continue living in harmony with nature.

In Aboriginal culture, ecological conscience is something that has not only been preserved, but celebrated for thousands of years. It is referred to as the Connection to Country. That’s right. Aboriginals use the word country to speak of land and water ways, not simply a political entity. With that being said, connection to country is more than just a symbolic tradition, it's an entire value system that has manifested into practical skills and knowledge. To illustrate this, Aboriginals are pioneers in ecosystem management. They are masters of controlled burning. For more than 60 thousand years, they have figured out how to operate controlled bush burning to systematically shape and preserve their environment. During cool and dry seasons, they would systematically burn dry grasses to prevent them from accumulating and eventually becoming fuel for natural wildfires that often occur from lightning strikes.

What’s interesting about these skills is that they’re not innovative, they don’t require cutting-edge technology, but they’re effective. They're traditional. They rely on insights and information that were passed down across three thousand generations, allowing for techniques that have been refined and optimized in more ways than we can imagine.

For myself as a Bumiputera, this really begs the question -- how much ancestral knowledge, mastery, and craft have we lost? Reflecting on my life, the only trace of Bumiputera traditional knowledge in regards to nature that comes to mind is Kampung house architecture. It’s in the way the house is elevated to provide buffer from flash floods and ground animals or insects, and the way the house is covered on all sides with huge windows to allow for cross ventilation and how tall roofs act as insulation in an extremely hot and humid climate. Not to mention the fact ancient Kampung houses were built before the mass adoption of nails and screws. These houses would instead entirely rely on sophisticated interlocking woodworking techniques, an art form that has since been lost .

Looking at heritage from this lens really makes you think about the tremendous breadth of knowledge and sustainable method that are forgotten in the midst of time. Perhaps it's time to do some historical treasure hunting to recover or re-discover some of these ancient secrets.

What’s clear from this point is that identity seems to be a function of knowledge. The way we see and define ourselves depends on the knowledge we have of our practices and heritage. Unfortunately, when knowledge of one’s own cultural practices and heritage degrades, one tends to look outwards into the external world to define ourselves. Our identity then is derived from, not what we hold or celebrate, but instead what we oppose or what we differentiate with. We develop an identity that’s reactive rather than celebratory. And no, this is not unique to a particular race or a community, which makes it ever more so important.

In that aspect, it’s therefore unfortunate that the Bumiputera identity has seemingly deviated from ecology. I believe that as traditional people of the soil, we ought to reignite a sense of responsibility towards the environment and ensure that nature is protected and preserved. This, I think is the true Bumi identity.

Of course, I’m not limiting sustainability to a single race. But looking at the indigenous influence on Australia, when a culture has ingrained and defaulted itself for sixty thousand years, the culture seems to become intrinsic in society. You can’t see it. It’s invisible. It’s everywhere and is therefore nowhere. It does not belong to a place or a race. It permeates across the very fabrics of civilization. Perhaps the only reason I saw it here was because I’m not Australian. In that sense, I believe that if all Malaysians, as a country, if we are able to re-discover the harmonious living ways of ancient Bumiputeras and celebrate that green sustainable identity, Malaysia will surely be steadfast in meeting its sustainable development goals. Not because of some policy or roadmaps, but because of values, practices, and identity. Food for thought!

This is only my first perceptual shift of looking at the traditions of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders. I’m looking forward to be sharing more of my experiences in the coming publications.

References

The Nature Conservancy Australia. (2023, February 28). Fighting fire with fire: Indigenous-led fire management is fighting climate change. https://www.natureaustralia.org.au/what-we-do/our-priorities/climate-change/climate-change-stories/fighting-fire-with-fire/