By Philip Golingai
I SPENT two nights and three days this week in Danum Valley, a 130-million-year-old rainforest in Lahad Datu, Sabah.
This 438sq km reserve is far from the madding political crowd. I had a better chance of spotting the elusive orang utan in the wild than a Wild Wild East politician (for those who haven’t noticed, I call my home state, Sabah, the Wild Wild East because of its neverendingly turbulent politics).
Borneo Rainforest Lodge operations manager Calixtus Laudi explained that most guests came to experience pristine tropical lowland forests with its diverse flora and fauna.
“When they think of Danum Valley, they think of primary forests and wildlife such as orang utan, the Borneon gibbon, red leaf monkey, and pygmy elephants,” Calixtus said.
“It also has historical value. The previous settlers, the Sugpan tribe, lived nomadically within Danum as recently as 250 years ago. They depended on the forest for their survival.”
I learned that, according to the Sugpan people’s traditions, their dead are buried on cliffs so the honoured spirits could be as close to heaven as possible.
Danum Valley should have kept me distracted from politics.
However, I live in an almost 24-hour political news cycle. Yes, there are times I meet politicians at 2am at a spa in Bukit Bintang in Kuala Lumpur for a foot massage and political gossip (minus the happy ending).
If you thought I could escape politics in ancient Danum, think again.
There’s limited Internet at the lobby of the Borneo Rainforest Lodge, an ecoresort that makes “camping out” in the wilderness a luxurious experience.
Being a 24-hour political news junkie, I could not switch to ecotourism mode. I couldn’t resist getting onto the Internet. And sure enough, there was a flurry of messages from politicians about a possible sacking of an Umno state chief, the BlackRock controversy (the US fund manager accused of supporting Israel that is buying shares in a Malaysian consortium), and of course, the Bersatu leadership fight following recent defections.
The jungle might be neutral, to paraphrase the title of F. Spencer Chapman’s famous book, but could politics, often referred to as a jungle too, ever be neutral?
When I visited Danum Valley nearly 10 years ago, Calixtus’ jungle interpretation trekking gave me a different perspective.
He talked about stratification in the jungle, which is dominated by emergent trees as tall as 60m to 80m metres – the equivalent 15 storeys – and the survival of the trees and plants underneath depending on which absorbs the most sunlight and rain.
“The higher the tree, the higher its chance to get sunlight and rainwater and, therefore, dominate its surroundings. That means that trees and plants which live under these tall trees have limited chances of growing.”
Applying Calixtus’s explanation to party politics, I see the dominant as representing veteran leaders entrenched in the system while the emergent trees are their chosen ones.
“When these trees are fruiting, they provide a food source for birds and animals which will spread the seeds. This process helps the forest ecosystem for regeneration,” Calixtus said.
In other words, emergent and dominant politicians have some value in contributing to the socioeconomic wellbeing of the rakyat.
Concerned about dinosaur politicians dominating Malaysian politics, I asked him if the dominant trees rule the jungle forever.
No, Calixtus told me. He said there are species of trees that can cause the fall of tall trees. One of them is a ficus tree.
“A ficus seed will germinate from the top of the tall tree, and it will first develop its branches. Then its root will grow towards the ground to obtain more minerals.
“Eventually the ficus roots will strangle the host tree, which can cause it to rot to death gradually, after 50 to 100 years,” he said.
I think that’s a neat metaphor that explains up-and-coming politicians, whom I have observed in my 30 years of covering Malaysian politics. They will endear themselves to warlord politicians and wait for their weakening so they can be the dominant leaders.
But it’s not easy to kill a dominant tree because they have their own defence mechanisms.
“Their roots, which will expand for several decades, can cause damage to the fig tree, sometimes killing it,” said Calixtus.
That is roughly the power struggle between the host (a dominant tree) and the parasite (ficus tree). Doesn’t this remind you of some episodes in our political arena?
But the fight in the jungles takes decades. Now, with the TikTok generation, some of these political battles end swiflty.
Which political fig will emerge, I wonder?
Editor: This article has appeared in the Star
