Abstract
While social disorganization and anomie theories are generally employed to explain the disproportionate representation of racial minorities in the offending population, such perspectives often fail to address the intersectionalities of class, race, religion, gender, and historicity that structurally marginalize the Malay youth in Singapore. This article hence adopts a neocolonial criminological approach in explaining racial disparity in crime, particularly how the Malay youth establish their dominance in gangs through hyper- and exaggerated forms of masculinity. Drawing on interviews with Singaporean Malay and Chinese individuals who were current and former gang members, this study shows that Malay youth tended to exhibit a blended masculinity comprising “Malayness” and “Chineseness” to compensate for their marginal status, highlighting their agentic capacity in strategically tapping upon an inventory of race resources to negotiate their gendered identities and attain status and economic mobility in the illegitimate society.
Introduction
The disproportionate representation of ethnic and racial minorities in the criminal justice system in countries such as the UK, the US, Canada, Australia, France, and Netherlands has fuelled debates over the contested linkages between race, class, and the criminal justice system (King & Mauer, 2007). Racial disparity in the criminal justice system is, evidently, a global problem and Singapore is no exception. The Malays, one of the two minority groups in Singapore, are not only disproportionately represented in the drug statistics but its youth are overrepresented in rioting cases at 40% (John, 2007). This raises a concern as the Malays as an ethnic group (majority of whom are Muslims) constitute only 13.4% of the national population (Statistics Singapore, 2010). On one hand, the political and positivist discourses have had attributed the antisocial behavior of the Malays to the perceived deficiency of the Malay culture (Rahim, 1998), pointing to their apparent visibility in a litany of social ills—teen marriages (Rahman, 2009), health deficiencies, teenage pregnancies, and dysfunctional families (Bin Mohamed Nasir, 2007). According to a report published by the Association of Muslim Professionals (2012), Malays have a high youth dependency ratio at 31.3% (AMP, 2012, p. 220) and a low labor force participation rate (AMP, 2012, p. 220). The most recent Census of Population (Statistics Singapore, 2010) also reveals that the Malays have the lowest average and median incomes and are underrepresented among university graduates compared to the other ethnic groups, the Chinese and Indians. On the other hand, functionalist sociologists have generally maintained that racial disparities in antisocial and criminal behaviors are the result of inequities in the social structure (Bridges, Crutchfield, & Simpson, 1987). Though functionalist perspectives have lost their efficacy in contemporary criminology generally (Downes & Rock, 2007), they are still very much revered in the Singapore context as an explanatory framework due to their strong normative appeal (Ganapathy, 2002).
Both perspectives, however, can be critiqued on grounds that they insufficiently contextualize the lived experiences of the Malays—at both an individual and collective level—by failing to address the role of race and racism in the structural relations of a postcolonial multiracial society nor attempting to locate the biography of the Malays as a visible minority within the intersectionality of class, race, religion, gender, and historicity. Hence, this article hopes to reposition the racial disparity in crime within the experiences of Malay’s structural exclusion, and how an exaggerated form of masculinity is being appropriated by the Malay youth to compensate for their historically marginal economic and social status engendered by colonization.
Using a neocolonial model (Tatum, 2000), which combines the traditional colonial thesis with an underclass perspective, this article seeks to (1) address the fundamental question of how historical factors such as colonization and multiracialism in postindependent Singapore have negatively impacted the life chances of the Malays, fuelling their propensity to using violence as status resource and means for conflict resolution, and (2) account for the racially differential response to shared structural conditions of marginalization. Specifically, this article attempts to explicate why working-class male Malay youths, who face similar structural exclusion with other class and racial groups, embody what we call “racialized masculinity”—a performance that contextually blends both “Chineseness” and “Malayness” as they seek to enact and subvert definitions of power, adopt various identity postures, and position themselves in relation to other Malay youth and the majority Chinese to negotiate their successful participation in the illegitimate society.
This article begins with the survey of the literature investigating the relationship between identity constructions, masculinity, and violence and shows how such conceptualizations can be extended to understanding the performance of racialized masculinities among ethnic minority Malay youths. It then discusses the theoretical underpinnings of the current study followed by an empirical documentation of a “hybrid masculinity” that manifests in two but complex interplay of raced and gendered strategies employed by Malay youth gang members to adapt to the imperatives of gang membership in Chinese-dominated and mono-ethnic gangs.
Masculinity and violence
“Masculinity” broadly refers to a range of identities, behaviors, and meanings attributed to the male sex and ideologically positioned in opposition to “femininity” (Connell, 1995). The concept of hegemonic masculinity, however, revolves and centers on the power differentials involved in the hierarchical systems of gender relations. It is constructed in relation to, and occupies a position of superiority over, femininity and all other masculinities (Ricciardelli, Maier, & Hannah-Moffat, 2015). Hegemonic masculinity legitimizes the hierarchical structure of gender relations by ensuring that subordinate masculinities are relegated to the bottom of the gender hierarchy Following this definition of hegemonic masculinity, scholars identify masculinity not as a fixed, biological essence of men, but a dynamic, relational construct that is situated within microlevel interactions as well as larger social, cultural, historical structures (Connell & Messerschmidt, 2005). In other words, the accomplishment of gender is performative—“doing gender” (West & Zimmerman, 1987)—as structured action, in which agents act under certain social–structural constraints (Messerschmidt, 1993).
Since masculinities are complex and versatile social constructions with many variations and subtypes, sociologists often discuss “masculinities” in the plural to highlight the diversity of other social hierarchies or systems of stratification. Connell (1987, 1995) and Connell and Messerschmidt (2005), in subscribing to a single, normative masculinity, assert the existence of a spectrum of masculinities stratified by class, race, and sexuality, creating dominant and subordinate masculine positions—a “geography of masculinities” (Connell & Messerschmidt, 2005, p. 829). Hegemonic masculinity is thus fluid and ephemeral, intrinsically volatile in its embodiment and constitution. As such, there exists no one way of being masculine within any given culture. In fact, Connell and Messerschmidt (2005) emphasized that diverse forms of hegemonic masculinity are socially constructed at the local, regional, and global level.
While early literature places masculinity on the criminological agenda by articulating the gendered nature of crime and violence (Parsons, 1964), these studies often assume an essentialist, biologically determined approach to gender, neglecting to grasp the varieties of gendered identities reproduced through dynamic and situational interactions. Messerschmidt’s (1986, 1993, 1997) seminal publications displace such deterministic notions by clearly articulating the link between masculine identities and larger inequalities. Notably, he makes the assertion that “the making of masculinities” is crucial to understanding “the making of crime”; that “in the process of doing gender… men may simultaneously construct forms of criminality” (1997, p. 63). This projected violence (as in crime) serves as a substantial resource in the accomplishment of or compensation for masculinity.
Masculinity and violence are closely coupled, particularly among marginalized men, because while marginalized men are “economically powerless, they remain powerful in terms of gender” (Messerschmidt, 1986, p. 58). Connell (1995) identifies “protest masculinities” as the destructive, chaotic, and alienating form of gendered behaviors which assert claims to power despite a lack of resources (Walker, 2006, p. 5). Such actions usually involve elements of “hypermasculinity” (Mosher & Sirkin, 1984), or an exaggeration of key masculine conventions such as aggression and violent domination, as means to resist and respond to status frustration, social displacement, or structural marginalization (Hagedorn & Macon, 1988). Therefore, violence becomes one of the few ways for these men to establish their dominance, control, and sense of masculine identity in worlds where they have few legitimate avenues or resources.
While criminologists acknowledge that racial inequalities contribute to violence among structurally disenfranchised groups of ethnic minority men, their research has generally overlooked or conflated the issue of race-based oppression with class-based exclusion (De Coster & Karen, 2006). Only a few studies have attempted to articulate the link between racial/historical oppression and the (re)construction of masculine identities among structurally vulnerable ethnic minority males (Glenn, 1999). Archer (2001) conceptualizes “racialized masculinities” as a contextual and relational link between gender and racialized identities. In comparing gendered identities among Muslim, Asian and Black men in Britain, she argues that ethnic minority masculinities tend to be expressed as a response against powerlessness—“as a shared site of solidarity against racism, as a resistance to whiteness” (Archer, 2001, p. 98). Additionally, Archer (2001) finds that the marginalized men were also ethnically drawing distinctions and navigating through local and global influences as they asserted masculine power. Irwin and Umemoto (2012), in their ethnographic study of Pacific Islander boys in Hawaii, traced the development of violent masculine identities among Native Hawaiian and Samoan boys in response to different historical systems of racial control. In particular, they noted how efforts to promote “fearless” and “fearsome” personas among these adolescents were traceable to historic race-based constructions and their collective memories of a colonial past (Irwin & Umemoto, 2012, p. 20).
The interconnections between masculinity and violence need not necessarily only be rooted in patriarchy, but also find expression in the lesser discussed notion of fatriarchy organized through what Remy (1990) calls “men’s huts,” where men freely associate themselves with other men and collectively dominate. (Jewkes, 2005). Jewkes (2005) finds participation in “men’s huts” particularly relevant to male bonding found in prisons as a response among incarcerated men in their experiences of powerlessness in the face of authority. Similar rites of passage are also embedded in validating one’s membership in gangs or “secret societies”—which Remy (1990) notes to be interchangeable with the term “fraternity”—where not all men may join and those who do are required to undergo specific rituals or ceremonies to “prove” their manhood. Fratriarchal groups can be found across socio-economic categories and are sometimes class heterogeneous. Nevertheless, for the working-class male, fratriarchal solidarities help perpetuate intensified definitions of “manhood” and legitimize the subordination of not just women but other “weaker” men.
These conceptualizations are extended in this article, where the topic of “racialized masculinities” among ethnic minority Malay youths is explored in the postcolonial context of Singapore. As implied by Connell’s (1995) use of its plural form, variations in the expression of “protest masculinities” across contexts are dependent on their different histories of colonial control and historic race-based constructions of their particular ethnic group. To strengthen existing research on the effects of race on violent masculine identity formation, we draw on neocolonial criminology, which Tatum (2000) sees as the better alternative to its predecessor—colonial criminology—in explaining the violence and criminality of the previously colonized.
Colonial criminology in context
Colonial criminology focuses on the macro-historical processes of colonization and imperialism, which it deems to be criminogenic (Austin, 1983). Fundamentally, it emphasizes how crime and violence are a rational response to foreign imperialists’ deployment of oppressive means of racial control and segregation in the colonies. Fanon (1963) observed that the aggression and violence perpetrated by the natives against other natives (and to a lesser extent, colonists) provided a relatively safe outlet for a continual state of anger engendered by “physical and psychic deprivation” (p. 52). Further, it “brought an illusion of freedom to the natives who were dehumanized and caged by the racist attitudes and practices of the European settlers” (Austin, 1983, p. 94).
The Malay population had already registered their presence on the island when the British East India Company founded Singapore in 1819. The successful settlement and control of the island by the British was facilitated by their genial relationship with the Malay elites who sought material benefits through the imperial alliance while remaining fractious among themselves and alienated from the Malay masses (Maaruf, 1984). In reality, the Malay chiefs’ political influence considerably reduced and remained conspicuous only in social and cultural spheres (Turnbull, 1977, p. 52). The majority of Malays were strongly attached to their personal agricultural and seafaring pursuits. This allowed the British to continue opening up the interior lands and develop a thriving commercial center and port for which the burgeoning Chinese and Indian communities served as rich sources of labor (Stevenson, 1975). This not only transformed the Malays from a majority community to an ethnic minority within a short span of time (Mutalib, 2012) but also isolating them from mainstream economic activity.
It was not until 1874, with the inception of colonial expansion into the Malay states, that Hirschman (1986) suggests that racial division of labor was ideologically cemented with the rise of social Darwinism in Europe, which concomitantly helped vindicate British supremacy in Malaya. Gross generalization of Malays as an intellectually deficient lot endowed with “traits of complacency, indolence, apathy, infused with a love of leisure and an absence of motivation and discipline” (Rahim, 1998, p. 49) replaced earlier varied colonial accounts of Malays as independent, noble, and industrious by engendering a colonialist stance of paternalism and condescension toward them (Hirschman, 1986, pp. 343–344). The institution of racial typologies in the first Census of the Straits Settlements in 1871 (which was adopted in the unified census of colonial Malaya from 1921) further concretized the hierarchy of races among the Chinese, Indian, and Malay populaces in that pecking order leading to an undisputed acknowledgment of Malays as “lazy natives” (Alatas, 1977). This led to a burgeoning view of the Malays as incompatible participants in an expanding colonial economy (Ganapathy & Kwen Fee, 2016). In Singapore, the bulk of Malays remained in lower level employment as “watchmen, driver, gardeners, domestic servants, or policeman” (Lee, 2006) and the rising land prices prompted their retreatist stance to seek cheaper land further from the city center (Turnbull, 1977, p. 100). Furthermore, despite the access to free vernacular and religious education, the standards were so basic that it did little to help the Malay individuals enter the mainstream life of Singapore during the preindependence period (Turnbull, 1977).
Neocolonial criminology in context
In contemporary postcolonial Singapore, the vestiges of Malay natives’ inferior status in the colonial racial hierarchy combine with the alienating effects of modern capitalism to produce a racialized underclass. In this regard, neocolonial criminology is an attractive analytical framework as it addresses the intertwining effects of both class and race on criminal motivation and development of delinquent subcultures among minority members. The neocolonial model develops primarily in response to what it perceives as the limitations of both the structural explanations of crime evidenced in the social disorganization and strain-centered theories of Durkheim and Merton, and colonial theories of crime which allows a historical perspective of racism to be introduced within criminology that does not “focus almost exclusively on the deficits of minorities” (Hawkins, 2011, p. 17).
The social disorganization and anomie theories premise that the disproportionality of minority crime is the result of (a) the high concentration of Malay youth residing in socially disorganized neighborhoods where there is a conspicuous breakdown of both informal and formal social control leading to crime, and (b) the higher concentration of Malay youth in the lower social classes which puts them in situations where access to legitimate and conventional goals is blocked, thus encouraging criminal adaptations. There are, however, important limitations to these theories in explaining the criminality and violence of Malay youth.
First, these class-based theories are fundamentally never meant to explain racial minorities’ involvement in crime; any overlap between class and race is merely incidental (Agozino, 2004). Further, when these theories are extrapolated to explain minority crime, they often confound the effects of class and race, treating the impact of the two variables as identical (Agnew, 1992). Second, the class–race conflation as informed by the structural models is devoid of a historical appreciation of the social positioning of the various racial groups. They provide no insight as to the impact of racialization practices and destruction of indigenous cultures, brought on by colonization, on current structural status or the effects of these on crime. Third, as far as the city-state of Singapore is concerned, it is hard to envisage the visible existence of poverty-afflicted, socially disorganized ethnic ghettoes in a highly cosmopolitan urban space which is assiduously planned and policed by the state. Economically depressed communities do exist but they are spatially invisibilized through their structural incorporation into middle-class neighborhoods. Further, the ethnic quota policy legally enforceable in public housing prevents the formation of especially ethnic minority enclaves in an urban space which normalizes the dominance of the Chinese.
Colonial criminology, which seeks to isolate the complex and multidimensional role of race, racism, and racial control in crime, was developed as an alternative explanation of minority crime and violence (Austin, 1983; Tatum, 2000). While the efficacy of this model lies in its ability to “capture the myriad of influences on crime, from the macro-structural to the microbehavioral, in a historically informed framework of analysis amenable to the unique histories of each racial or ethnic group” (Irwin & Umemoto, 2012, p. 6), it falls short in accounting for the differential class effects of racial oppression, nor explain how the interacting effects of race and class affect structural experiences. In summative, the colonial model fails to address differential responses to shared oppression, and that alienation can operate on multiple levels (Bolognani, 2009)—a gap that is filled by neocolonial criminology (Tatum, 2000).
Building on this framework, this article establishes that, while Malay youths are subjected to relatively limited economic opportunities in the legitimate society on account of class, working-class Malay youths also find themselves structurally marginalized even in the illegitimate economy compared to working-class Chinese on account of race. As such, drawing on Archer’s (2001) racial masculinity, marginalized Malay youths mobilize their gender and race resources that enable them to be powerful and compensate for the status disparity. Through performances of hyper- and exaggerated masculine violence in gang participation, this article illuminates how Malay youths establish their dominance within the illegitimate domains of society.
Methodology
In addressing these issues, we used a qualitative approach to collecting and analyzing data relying mainly on interviews and case studies. We conducted semistructured open-ended interviews with 24 boys and men who had been involved in gangs and who had been incarcerated for gang and/or gang-related activities. Although a semistructured interview guide was accessible during interviews, we kept it aside once the informants started to discuss their experiences openly with occasional prompts from the interviewers. This methodology allowed for a detailed and more nuanced understanding of the informants’ perspectives, their “everyday” experiences, and an interpretation of the world around them (Stake, 1995). Informants were invited to share their criminal and incarceration histories particularly with regard to their involvement in the respective gangs. The interviews were conducted for four months in 2016. All informants, including the enforcement and custodial officers were included solely on the basis of their willingness to participate in the study—thus we relied on our personal contacts—considering how sensitive this issue was to our informants. Thus, the main sampling method used in this study was purposive with elements drawn from quota sampling techniques to ensure representation from “all divisions within the arena of study” (Rubin & Irene, 1995, p. 69). The informants were drawn from combinations of categories as follows: Malay youth who had an active membership in Chinese secret societies at the time of the interview (n = 8); Malay youth who were ex-members of Chinese secret societies (n = 5); Malay youth who were ex-members of the mono-ethnic gang, OMEGA (n = 7); members of the Chinese secret societies (n = 4); and retired enforcement and custodial officers who had experience dealing with and knowledge of local gang activities (n = 4). Our gang informants were all male whose ages were between 17 and 30 and they had been incarcerated for mainly gang and/or gang-related offences primarily involving drugs. All informants were assured of anonymity and thus names which appear in this research are fictitious. While the research was predominantly qualitative using a grounded theory approach (Glaser & Strauss, 1967), we also utilized statistics available in the national census and various public organizations to arrive at thematic conclusions.
Assimilative strategy: Appropriation of Chineseness in Chinese-dominated secret societies
Assimilation as a strategy is used by Malay-Muslim youth to negotiate their social membership, identity, mobility, and status in Chinese-dominated secret societies such as the “369 gang” in the contemporary criminal underworld. Such strategy serves as a source of empowerment for the Malay youths, who are structurally marginalized as a racial minority. The origins of the “369” gang could be traced to the Chinese Triads which, for the greater part of the 19th century, existed as an intermediate layer of extra-legal jurisdiction in regulating the social, economic, and political life of Chinese immigrants with many of the powers and functions of the colonial government wielded by them (Turnbull, 1996). Since the 19th century, many Chinese secret societies had begun to recruit Malays into their ranks but almost always their membership confined to the lower echelons. As Wynne (1941, p. 254) explains, “in order for Chinese secret societies to safeguard their imperium in imperio (state within a state) within the context of a multi-ethnic, migrant community such as Singapore, it was crucial for Chinese secret societies to ideologically de-emphasize ethnic allegiance,” while at the same time draw strategic advantage by engaging the Malays: … Malays were always a tool in the hands of the Presidents and Vice-Presidents of the Chinese Secret Societies, engaged to do the dirty work that the Chinese did not want associated to their own Chinese societies. The differentiated status between Chinese and Malay members of Chinese secret societies was marked by a difference in the entrance fee of Chinese members which was three dollars and sixty cents, compared to the one dollar and sixty cents paid by lesser members of Chinese secret societies, namely Malays. (Wynne, 1941, p. 228)
A conspicuous way in which “Chineseness” is played out is in terms of the gang-speak and tattoos adorned by the Malay-Muslim youth. In his seminal study of tattooing among Muslim youth in Chinese gangs, Bin Mohamed Nasir (2016) reveals how young Muslim boys who exist at the peripheries of Chinese gangs appropriate tattoos of Chinese motifs and inscriptions as a strategy to gain acceptance into the groups even though these tattoos conflict with their master status as Malay-Muslims. These appropriations, as much as they are meant to vitiate Malay youth’s marginal status by articulating a willingness to shed a pious Muslim identity, also serve to underline their commitment and allegiance to the Chinese gang. Bin Mohamed Nasir (2016, p. 6) notes: “‘Wearing the shirt’ in local street jargon alludes to the display of gang tattoos and dressing the body with gang insignia. Muslim youth have long acquired tattoos to claim a sense of belonging to Chinese gangs” (John, 2007).
The author further argues that the sense of solidarity and coherence with the dominant Chinese members accomplished through the embodiment of Chinese tattoos reduces the vulnerability of Malay gang members in a criminal underworld monopolized by ethnic Chinese. Though, in reality, they are relegated to low positions in the hierarchy of the Chinese secret societies and concomitantly accorded less social status relative to their Chinese counterparts, these Malay youths gain much social and cultural capital through their affiliation with Chinese gangs, as much as they acquire ostentatious capital in relation to other Malay youths, which consequently help assert their claims to power and dominance while downplaying their marginal status as ethnic minority. We got to be steady (practical). This is Singapore and we must know how to survive. There are all Malay gangs like OMEGA, Alif and Adek Beradek and there are gangs which got all races but Chinese is always in the top. They have all the money and power. You have to ask yourself whether you want to ride the sampan (a small fishing boat) or the big luxury ship. Of course, I’ll choose the ship! I wear the shirt with pride. SKT is big outside and inside (in prisons). But I must also say that other Malay boys, my relatives and friends who are not in SS see me get scared too. I walk with pride… they are scared but they like me too because I always got money in my pocket, not like last time. (Razif, former inmate, 27)
Assimilative strategy: Blended masculinity of Malayness and Chineseness in Chinese-dominated secret societies
Though race is key in the configuration and negotiation of power relations determining social mobility within the “369” gang, Malay youths, simultaneously, do articulate a persona of “Malayness” that centers on being “fearless” and “fearsome” as means to bargain with Chinese gang leaders a more privileged status within the gang. It is this display of unrestrained and “raw” masculinity that often leads to excesses of violence that is both reviled and revered in the criminal underworld, making Malay youth a much sorted out resource in gang membership: You would recall that 30 years ago, Malays were not on the secret society scene at all. But in the last two decades, I am really not sure what happen, but Malays are a formidable force, largely due to gangs like OMEGA and SKT where there is a big number of them. They take on the role of fighters usually; there’s no mercy whatsoever whenever they fight. They are good fighters too. When I investigated them, I see no fear or remorse in their eyes. (Retired Police Officer, 63) When I was in school, I felt very lousy till I join “salakau” (“369” gang). I got the respect and when people see my tear drops on, they know that I wear that shirt. I have nothing to offer to my Chinese brothers but my allegiance and fist. When I fight, I fight without fear or favour, only to bring glory to my gang. We Malays have to show others that we are fighters and we have to regain the lost respect. (Said) SKT started recruiting the Malays and Indians for a long time already, about 20, 30 years… I like the Malays because they are easily available; there are many of them on the streets, out of school, in low paying jobs. I give them money and a bit of power, they “shiok” already. They are obedient, take instructions and won’t ask too many questions, not like the Indians who are quite problem people. Many of the Malays here in my group got go to prisons and they know a lot of people from there who join my gang. They got good body and very strong, they are good fighters, they never think much one when fighting and have no issues slaying people. (John, 42, Senior Headman of a Chinese Secret Society)
Protest strategy: Appropriation of “Malayness” in Malay-dominated secret societies
In contrast to the Malay members of the “369” gang, members of the all-Malay gang, OMEGA, tended to adopt more of a “protest” stance to counter and resist against what they consider to be “Chinese hegemonic masculinity”—one that revolves around notions of economic power and dominance, pragmatism, and consumerism (Ganapathy, 2016). Formed in prisons in 1989, this mono-ethnic gang, considered to be the most significant Malay secret society in postindependent Singapore, serves an ideological function with strong racial and religious overtones. Its primary objectives were to protect the interests of the Malay-Muslim inmates against the Chinese who were purportedly dominating the prisons at the time, create a “Muslim Brotherhood” in the criminal underworld by incorporating the Islamic doctrine of “Fisibilillah” (for the sake of God), and stage a “counter-crusade” against the Malay-Muslim members of Chinese secret societies. OMEGA has several acronyms but two remain popular:
From an economically retreatist and parochial outlook while in prisons, OMEGA members, upon their release, sought to alter the institutionally configured power relations in the gang underworld by adhering to a strategy of extreme violence to establish its presence. Positioning itself as a defender of Malay-Muslim rights driven by ethno-religious rationalizations centered primarily on the discourse of marginality and discrimination, OMEGA was able to capitalize on the symbolic, cultural, and social capital; such a representation drew to expand its base. Here is an instance of how religion served as a form of symbolic capital: Bismi-llahi ar-rahmani ar-rahimi (In the Name of Allah Most Gracious Most Merciful) OMEGA is jihad and OMEGA members are mujahideen. To jihad is to strive in the way of Allah, and OMEGA symbolizes a struggle. OMEGA members struggle, sacrificing money, blood, limb and life to prevent the oppression of Malay Muslim IDs (prison slang for prisoners)…OMEGA wages war to stop the Chinese SS from oppressing Malay Muslims, in prison and in the underworld. Pledge of martyrdom to establish OMEGA secret society. (As quoted in Nafis (2008, p. 1))
The target of the proselytizing approach of OMEGA is usually the Malay-Muslims in Chinese secret societies who had been relegated to low level positions. In other words, when assimilation into Chinese Secret societies fails, many of the Malay youths are encouraged to cross over to OMEGA, and this “conversion” often takes place in prisons. This conversion is both symbolic and instrumental in that it does not only represent a shift in loyalty from one secret society to another but a religious “conversion” for the many Malay-Muslim members to reaffirm their allegiance to Allah. As one “converted” Malay-Muslim member shared: …I was at peace only when I found my religion back. OMEGA made it happen for me. I ate pork, pray to Chinese gods…you know I did what all Chinese did. But when I was caught and put in jail, I turned back but saw no one. I was taken to be a fool. Here, in prison, OMEGA tells me I am “bodoh” (Malay word for stupid) to work for Chinese people. I have left my religion. Now, I am at peace … I can hold the Quran now. (As quoted in Ganapathy (2016)) For a long time, we Malays have been pushed around by the Chinese gangsters and Indians who are in Chinese gangs. You see this bullying everywhere…. OMEGA changed all of that overnight. We got our respect back, we got our pride back. Now, Chinese SS people know that if OMEGA goes for gang clashes, the minimum standard is to chop off a hand or leg of the infidel. That’s what we are now and we are feared because of that. We will do anything for OMEGA – our savior. (Johan 22, a Former Prisoner at the Reformative Training Centre) OMEGA is Malay pride…it’s the only way we can get back what is ours, our land, our pride, our strength and dignity. Instead of joining the Chinese infidels, OMEGA open up a different path for us Malays to survive a Chinese society. (Razif, 17, Former Resident of a Juvenile Detention Centre)
Protest strategy: Blended masculinity of Malayness and Chineseness in Malay-dominated secret societies
To undermine Chinese dominance of the underworld, OMEGA members, rather paradoxically, took on “Chineseness” by replicating the model of sworn brotherhood which had historically informed the organization of Chinese secret societies in both colonial and contemporary Singapore (Mak, 1981). Soon after its formation, OMEGA adopted a creed, a unique gang insignia and symbols of membership (Ganapathy, 2016), an elaborate organizational structure, and a constitution prescribing group behavior. Pointing to their underpinning rationality, a senior OMEGA member recounted: To penetrate a world controlled by the Chinese is not easy at all. The Chinese are there everywhere and have deep connections. To beat the Chinese, at least to be on par with them, we have to be like them. We can only take out poison with poison, violence with violence, treachery with treachery. The fact that OMEGA has become a big name is because of the strategy of the Seven Wonders (in reference to the founding members) of OMEGA to organize ourselves like how the Chinese people do both in prisons and outside prisons. (Zul, 45, Former CL Detainee) OMEGA is about business. Gone are the days we waste our time drinking and fighting in coffee shops. We run OMEGA like a business; Yes, we do talk business even with the infidels of OMEGA. We got to be smart like the Chinese. Money talks - no money, no power, no respect. (Farid, Senior Member of OMEGA who also runs a Wedding Planning Business)
Conclusion
This article began by suggesting that the disproportionately high incidence of male violence among Malay youths in Singapore can be understood through a neocolonial criminological framework that would facilitate a deeper inquiry into the role of race in expressions of hyper- and exaggerated masculinities. We posit that this neocolonial model serves to fill gaps in the literature by offering a nuanced mapping of the differential responses to locations of structural marginalization in accounts of male violence. Through a historical appreciation of race and racism within the context of colonialism and postcolonial multiracialism in Singapore, we unpack through their lived experiences how Malay boys not only use violence as a resource to respond to structural exclusion from mainstream society but also engender particular formulations of “racialized” masculinities to seek mobility within the illegitimate society.
The data presented two distinct examples of Malay youth participation in illegitimate society—in Chinese-dominated gangs and in a mono-ethnic Malay gang. Both cases illustrate how “Chineseness” has been selectively appropriated by Malay youths as a resource to legitimize their authenticity as gang members while also validating their capacity to achieve social mobility within the illegitimate world—something that eludes them in mainstream society. In Chinese gangs, moving up the ranks demanded a certain degree of allegiance to the cultural specificities of “Chineseness” and necessitated some aspects of “Malayness” to be eschewed. At the same time, successful integration into Chinese gangs also required that Malay youths retain some essentialized features of “Malayness,” particularly in exaggerated masculine displays of being “fearless” and “fearsome” that earned them respect among fellow gang members who are Chinese and coethnic Malay peers from other gangs.
In mono-ethnic gang Malay gang, OMEGA, Malay boys were able to enhance their Malay-Muslim ethnic and religious identity without necessarily forgoing the opportunity to achieve status and economic mobility. This is because the exclusively Malay-Muslim gang, while gaining its foothold as a place of protest in racial and religious opposition to the dominance of Chinese gangs in illegitimate society, is organizationally modeled after the Chinese gang—hence institutionally “acts” Chinese—through its elaborate network structure, creed of sworn brotherhood, and involvement in a wide range of economically profitable legitimate ventures like wedding planning and illicit ones such as drug trade.
The examination of Malay gang participation through a neocolonial framework provides a persuasive explanation of male violence precisely because it illuminates the limits of positivist and functionalist discourses that singularly accrue violence as a gendered response to the cultural and structural marginalization experienced by an ethnic minority group in a postcolonial society. The pursuit of “racialized masculinities” is therefore theoretically salient as it draws attention to the agentic capacity of Malay youths in strategically drawing upon an inventory of race resources from the dominant culture and their own ethnic culture to negotiate their gendered identities and achieve status and economic mobility in illegitimate society, both of which remain unfeasible in mainstream society. If performing ethnic and religious “Chineseness” offer Malay youths mobility through membership in Chinese gangs that enable their assimilation in a multiracial illegitimate world, adopting pragmatic ideals of the “Chinese” business model enables a mono-ethnic Malay gang to acquire human and money capital without necessarily relinquishing an exclusively Malay-Muslim ethnic and religious identity. The differential appropriation of race resources—“Chineseness” and “Malayness”—reveals that ethnic minority youths are not beholden to racial hierarchies in a multiracial society, but have the agency to negotiate and subvert those power structures by reclaiming and overcoming their subordinated status in the illegitimate society.
Footnotes
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
