“WE’VE got to make as much money as possible because we might lose the next election,” someone deferentially (or affectionately?) known as a ‘warlord’ said over breakfast, and as the unwilling audience scrambled for napkins to hide their convulsions, the grammarless ramblings descended into a tirade against Bersih 2.0, obscenities rendering even the freshest, fluffiest roti canai unappetising, polluted as it was by the din. While ostentatious displays of arrogance will repel any sensible voter, party leaders might not always be able to control the self-imagined invincibility of some of their members. But they can lead by example to combat the stupidity that permeates their ranks.
The government’s response to Bersih 2.0 exemplifies this stupidity perfectly. I don’t agree with all the Bersih 2.0 points, and it should have better defended itself against hijacking by the opposition, but the crackdown has now been utterly condemned by the international press and by virtually every observer, Malaysian or not, to whom I have spoken.
There are also too many allegations (and supportive video footage) of police heavy-handedness and I am still irritated by the censorship of my article earlier this month. The redacting of the latest issue of the Economist has, I am sure, increased its sales and multiplied the anger at government functionaries who assume that we are as stupid as they are. It follows a familiar historical pattern of authorities trying to close the lid on discontent with the result that it simmers more and more instead.
There is something gravely wrong when socialists are joined by descendants of former Prime Ministers and ministers, with individuals of royal and aristocratic descent (note: a lot of Malay blood there) to rally on the streets for clean and fair elections despite exhortations not to do so. The sight of flower-bearing ‘Auntie Bersih’ Anne Ooi and poet laureate A Samad Said facing off against riot police (like Gandalf versus the Uruk-Hai) contradicts allegations of violent intent (provocateurs brandishing parang notwithstanding). Former Deputy Prime Minister Tun Musa Hitam years ago supported Malaysians’ right to peaceful assembly, but his ministerial successors still do not have the courage to support similar views, excepting only Dato’ Saifuddin Abdullah (Deputy Minister of Higher Education) and Gan Ping Sieu (Deputy Minister of Youth and Sports), who agreed that the government’s handling of Bersih 2.0 was woeful.
It was dubious right from the beginning for officials to equate Bersih 2.0 to the Arab Spring, not only because it would be interpreted as ‘freedom versus dictatorship’ in the eyes of the world, but also because our leaders could easily have chosen not to be authoritarian. Despite the damage done to our institutions, the democratic settlement fashioned in 1957 and reaffirmed in 1963 from the synthesis of ancient Malay political institutions and Westminster traditions has essentially survived (even though the rape of the judiciary in the 1980s was meekly recast as “turbulent changes and controversy, which attracted considerable public criticism and speculation” in the Prime Minister’s speech to the recent Commonwealth Magistrates’ and Judges’ Conference this week).
Even diehard loyalists now see that the party, as it was, may be over. After March 2008 I had hoped for healthy debate within the ruling party about how to change and adapt. Despite reasons to be optimistic at first, the authoritarian measures invoked this month make it clear as to who is winning those internal battles. Furthermore, the moderates drafted in to lead transformation haven’t ousted the hardliners; rather they’ve merely enlarged government: fireproof civil servants now contend with highly educated special officers (of who a greater number than ever roam the ego-enhancing corridors of Putrajaya) and new agencies have been created to do the work intended for ministries whose actual specialisation is the distribution of patronage. Still, if these new bureaucracies succeed, then there may be another opportunity to eliminate the bad guys. But if they fail, then the disgust with the bad apples in office will be so overwhelming that, free and fair elections or not, the nice chaps will be obliterated along with the rest of them.
Is the optimistic vision of the party of Merdeka irretrievably lost? Today Ku Li27 launches Amanah, a new cross-partisan movement to bring back the ideals of Tunku Abdul Rahman. Some might say too little, too late, but in the absence of common sense within political parties (let’s not forget the obsession with banning concerts on the other side), we should welcome contributions that fill the gap, so that soon my warlord acquaintance will be relegated to where he belongs: somewhere irrelevant, insignificant, and without a sen of taxpayers’ money to dole out on anybody.
27 Tengku Razaleigh Hamzah