Tag: politics

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On Interregnum

One of my favourite novel series of all time is Isaac Asimov’s Foundation series.

Anyone who has ever read any of these books will know that Isaac Asimov isn’t exactly Faulkner or Proust. His writing style can be a bit wooden, his characters often very thin vessels who help to carry his plots forward. But that plot! The imagination! The twists and turns of human drama!

In the Foundation novels, Asimov invents his own science of “psychohistory” to imagine a way for human civilisation to rebuild after the decline and fall of the Galactic Empire. Directly inspired by Gibbon, Asimov imagined an outpost, exiled in the farthest reaches of space, where the best and brightest of humanity could seek refuge as galactic civilisation shatters into pieces over the course of several centuries – much like the fall of Gibbon’s Roman Empire.

I have been thinking about the Foundation series a lot lately, whenever I think about the current state of Malaysian politics.

After unbending domination of many decades, the Barisan Nasional has lost its grip over Malaysian politics, reduced to a pale shadow of its former self. A succession of governments and Prime Ministers have come and gone – the narrative of Mahathir as saviour eventually gave way to a parade of expected and unexpected faces, and now, Anwar Ibrahim is at the helm.

The very manner of the cobbling of this Kerajaan Perpaduan, and the recent ensuing developments, suggests to me that Malaysian politics is now deep in the Second Empire phase of the Interregnum, and that we are now waiting for our Mule: that enigmatic, unexpected, random element that refuses to bow to the inexorable forces of psychohistoric prediction. The wild card. The red herring.

For now, the questions remain: How are we retooling the Malaysian economy for the challenges of a decoupled global economy? As multinational companies look to “friendshoring” and rejigging their supply chains, how is Malaysia charting its way forward? How do we set up our geopolitical stance amidst the rising risk of conflict in East Asia? Can we finally come to a reconciliation over the religious and ethnic fault lines that continue to divide our polity? How do we rebuild a consensus around development and civilisational advancement? What does it mean to be Malaysian in the 21st century?

All these questions will remain largely unanswered over these coming few years, it seems.

For now, we merely have to resign ourselves to our political class continuing to work through their neuroses, and hope that they will eventually discover, probably the hard way, that they will continue to be rejected by the voting public who only wants them to (finally) put the public interest ahead of their own petty squabbles and thievery.

For the rest of us, we must simply suffer what we must, until that bright Aurora finally comes.

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On Deliverance (A Prayer)

Ya Allah deliver this Nation from the grasping hands of these thieves who engorge themselves at the trough of the public trust.

Ya Allah bring Your Justice to bear on these arrogant ingrates who treat the public trust as if it is their own private sport – to play games with the livelihoods of millions of innocent souls.

Ya Allah punish them for their insolence and their greed and their selfishness and their corruption. May their Birkins and Brioni suits and Bugattis bear witness to the evils that they have committed on this Earth! May their ill-gotten gains become the very shackles that tie them down as they rot in your Hellfire!

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On Religious Men

For most of those in my generation, we grew up amidst a time of great change. Our parents were a guinea pig generation: young men and women who were wrenched out of their villages and kampungs, thrown up into schools and universities far away from their origins, and then told to keep their heads down and rebuild a young nation, still reeling from the ashes of racial unrest.

This social upheaval, this march towards the utopia of development, wreaked a heavy cost on those who had to live through it, and I think it is not unfair to say that for many young Malaysians living through this period, many of them suffered through their own individual crises of faith. For some, the white heat of science and technology was so searing that faith was no longer something to be indulged in. For many others, the frightening pace of change meant that religion was not only a custom to remain loyal to, but a safe harbour for the mind and the soul.

My own version of living through this period of great social change was that I was sent to religious school in the mornings, prior to attending government school in the afternoons. A middle-aged ustaz, white turban ever-present, would be holding his thin sliver of rotan and teaching us to recite the Quran, and while the rotan mostly never did anything more than thwack down onto the Quran that we held in front of us when we missed a step, the threat of it was always heart-stopping. We learnt everything by rote: the letters of the abjad. The short verses of the juz amma. The fundamentals of Sunni theology: the pillars of the Faith, the pillars of Islam, the twenty attributes of God.

Like many of us then, I was taught to give due deference to the ustaz and ustazah. The implicit principle was that religious education was also supposed to purify you, to give you a moral grounding in what it means to be a good Muslim and a good human being.

Now, as I am older, I think this assumption around the morality of religious preachers is fraying. Although the phenomenon of using religion as a means of waging politics is not new, it is telling that the Malay language now has a phrase for it – “penunggang agama“. And we can see the penunggangan taking place across the spectrum of contemporary Malay society: using religion to sell TV entertainment, using religion to sell tudung and telekung, using religion to sell bottled water. Religious preachers being arrested for lewd behaviour, for social abuse, for rape.

When I survey this sordid state of affairs in the religious life of the country that I live in, I am reminded again of that hadith narrated by Imam Malik in his classic work, Al Muwatta’: “I have been sent to perfect good character.” The implication here is that all your ritual, all your praying and almsgiving and Haj-going would be for naught, if at the end of it all, your personality and character remains untouched by His Message.

And it is this principle that has guided my interaction with others, especially with religious men and women. I try my best to read their character, searching through the tone of voice, the timbre and weight of words said, the nod of the head and the flick of the hand. How the words match against what is done.

Of course, for many of us, it is easier to just keep to a more basic heuristic: kalau pakai jubah or serban, mesti lah alim kan? And the next step: kalau alim, mestilah baik kan? But our experience surely must teach us now, that we need to look beyond the superficial. And the ultimate test of goodness, of morality, must surely be that your character reflects the dignity of your soul and the depth of your learning.

Harder to do, yes, but surely necessary in these troubled times!

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Tentang Siakap (dengan Pohonan Ampun Maaf buat Tongkat Warrant)

Siakap senohong gelama ikan duri
Bercakap bohong besar-besar jadi menteri.

Kerapu ikan merah parang keli tilapia
Makan harta rasuah boleh ke Putrajaya.

Nuri barat-barat aji-aji buntal cermin
Curi duit rakyat boleh jadi Ahli Parlimen.

Kerisi kunyit-kunyit bilis pari sesirat
Menteri perut buncit rakyat hidup melarat.
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On Speechwriting

For more than two years of my life, I was a speechwriter.

Speechwriting is one of those strange professions where your job is almost akin to being a translator: to bring forth someone’s thoughts and beliefs and intended promises, and wrap them all up in a speech that will helpful move, motivate, inspire. In politics, where the art of public persuasion takes its highest form (yes I am a romantic), speechwriters are the architects and the constructors of political promise and power.

Speechwriting is also strange because so much of the esteem that you may hope to hold in the eyes of others is really just reflected glory of whoever it was that was reading those words that you had worked on. No one wants to talk about the speechwriter to some aspiring up-and-coming town councilor in some rural state out in some third world country, but the speechwriter to the President of the United States of America will likely find his way into the pages of the New York Times, and into any dinner party in Washington D.C. that would have him.

I genuinely enjoyed the process and the craft of speechwriting. Of course it requires a love and appreciation for politics, but often it also requires someone with the patience and intellectual bandwidth for the minutiae of public policy. Every politicians needs to sell something, and the politician’s speech is the coin of the realm.

Add another interesting ingredient: poetry. The best speeches of our times – “ask now what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country”, or “I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat”, or “Mister Gorbachev, tear down this wall!” – are not merely words to tell or to promise, but a intricate dance between speaker and audience, a soaring orchestra of rhyme and rhetoric that carries a politicians’ words far above the realm of the sordid, and lifts its audience upwards, to animate and motivate and inspire.

Unfortunately, in Malaysia, speechwriting is still mostly an amateur’s art. There are a number of speechwriters who gain a sort of anonymous immortality through the political acts and speeches of their principals, and any politician worth their salt will often have their own preferred wordsmiths, especially for the “big” speeches: the policy speech at the upcoming party convention, or a nationwide telecast speech in response to an unexpected global pandemic. But for the most part, the recruitment of speechwriters in Malaysia is still very haphazard, and entry into the profession – if it can even be called that, here – is still very much on a who-knows-who, often serendipitous basis.

In such political environments, speechwriting is often for the young political aspirant – willing to accept poor pay and long hours in return for the chance to live out their “Bartlet for America” dreams, and to purchase entry into the knife-fight that is Malaysian politics.

What does it take to be a good speechwriter? I’ve touched on some of these earlier, but it is useful to provide a summary: An abiding interest and passion for politics and history. The patience and grit to dig into the details of public policy. Ability to understand the audience one would be speaking to. Empathy and understanding of the principal’s personality, interests, and political priorities. Intellectual bandwidth and breadth of knowledge, buttressed by lots and lots of reading. A passion for language, poetry and rhetoric – and in Malaysia, the ability to operate fluently in at least Bahasa Melayu and English. Capacity for hard work.

I would like to think I was a decent speechwriter. Sadly I was not one of the lucky few who could carve out a living – let alone riches or fame! – through speechwriting in Malaysia. But I will never lose that fascination for the art and the craft of political speechmaking. (Ok time for another West Wing binge soon, I think!)

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On The State of the Union

For as long as I can remember, I have been an Americophile (yes, apparently it’s a real word!) No surprises there, I suppose – having been born in the United States (both my parents were studying in Louisiana at the time), I have always had sentimental attachment to the USA, even if my own personal memories of my time there as a child was limited to a handful of photographs of my being a toddler.

Growing up in the Reagan era of the 1980s, it was very difficult not to look at America with a sense of admiration. Coca Cola and McDonald’s and Superman were icons that loomed large in our childhood, and the idea of the American Dream was not yet besmirched by the grime of cynicism and disappointment that has been the American legacy of the post-9/11 era.

I grew up reading Spiderman, watching Batman and Superman on the silver screen, and I remember spending my mornings doing my homework while CNN was playing on the morning television broadcast, watching the entire might of the mighty American military being brought down like a sledgehammer onto Saddam Hussein’s Iraq after the latter’s invasion of Kuwait. America was the almighty behemoth of the world, and once the Berlin Wall had fallen, the USA bestrode the globe as an unchallenged colossus – the one and only superpower of the late 20th century.

Going to college, I fell into student politics, and political biographies became my preferred vein of reading material ever since. I came to know FDR and Truman and Eisenhower and Kennedy through McCullough and Schlesinger and many other scholars of American politics. And when Barack Obama ran for the presidency, my abiding interest for American politics kicked up another notch: I started watching Meet The Press on the weekends, trawled through RealClearPolitics and the New York Times and other news portals to read the tea leaves of the unfolding campaign. Obama becoming President will probably be the high watermark of American esteem and prestige in my lifetime, and I soaked every moment of his time in office. His speeches at Selma and Berlin and Egypt. His announcement of the capture of Osama bin Laden. Those speeches at the White House Correspondents’ Dinners.

And, of course, the State of the Union – that spectacle of American power and pageantry. Ostensibly a report card to be laid open for the American people, but really an annual statement of intent – a manifesto of a president in office and in power.

Biden might not have that same soaring oratory that marked Obama’s time as President. But for this State of the Union address, you will find me eager as always, watching and learning, basking in the theatre of American politics – still, so far, the hub and core of global power in my lifetime.

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Today’s 3 Things II – Population Decline, Slow Productivity, and Political Financing

  1. China’s population on the decline! India might overtake China as most populous country! – one could worry about implications of declining populations on national productivity, pension liabilities, and whatnot. But maybe, just maybe, it might simply be a lagging indicator to show that things are… good?
  2. “Slow productivity” is a thing, now. The past 20 years have been a whirlwind of emails and SMS and BBM pings and Slack and Whatsapp and Zoom calls – and it’s all getting a bit too much. The revolution is nigh.
  3. For as long as we don’t solve the problem of political financing and lobbying transparency in Malaysia, we will never truly fix the dysfunctionality of our contemporary politics. Some might say, eleh US pun sama je. Yes, lobbying and jockeying for influence will always be there – indeed, it is a core function of the political process! But the American approach of making political financing more transparent has its benefits – it makes public policy-making more transparent and more accountable, and reduces the likelihood of corrupt behaviour in doing under-the-table deals for private advantage.
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Today’s 3 Things – SingTel, Nurul Izzah, Zahid Hamidi

  1. I was reading this news report about SingTel being recently majority-controlled by private equity firms, and thought, oh wow, a positive piece on PE ownership that does not demonise private equity ownership as heartless asset-stripping capitalists! Then I realised – oh, it’s a news report from a stock investing app. Figures hahah.
  2. So, prominent economist Jomo Kwame Sundaram says, on the issue of Anwar’s daughter being appointed as an advisor to the Finance Minister: “I am also not keen on the prime minister being the finance minister. I am also not keen on this (Nurul Izzah’s) appointment. But all things considered the reaction to her appointment is unwarranted.” And then goes on to enumerate the ways in which appointed the PM’s daughter as an advisor might bring advantages. Fair enough. Nuanced, right? But then, you will notice that the headline simply says: “Jomo: Nurul Izzah’s new appointment not a liability”. Nice.
  3. “Saya mesti berusaha bukan saya benci, tidak ada satu zarah, satu molekul rasa benci kepada mana-mana individu, tetapi parti mesti diselamatkan,” kata seorang Presiden parti politik yang memalitkan najis rasuah pada wajah partinya sendiri, mencantas pemimpin tempatan yang membawa kepada kekalahan partinya dalam negeri-negeri yang sebelum ini menjadi kubu kuat partinya, menjadi bebanan utama bagi para pemimpin muda parti beliau sendiri, membelakangkan keputusan partinya sendiri untuk tidak bersama pemimpin dan parti lawan tertentu, dan menyanggupi parti tunjang negara menjadi pelakon tambahan dalam pentas politik tanahair. Siapa yang perlu diselamatkan, ya?

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Today’s Reads XIV – Layoffs, Manchester United, UMNO

  1. Termination via email is yet another reminder that good leadership is really just about being a good human being. Look people in the eye, answer questions fairly, and show sympathy for the travails of others. Is that really so hard to do?
  2. Erik Ten Hag’s Manchester United is a salutary lesson in the inimitable power of good leadership. After the disappointments of Moyes, Van Gaal and Mourinho, the fleeting mirage of the Solskjaer years, the failed experiment with Rangnick, we finally have a manager with the grit and dedication to put together a winning team!
  3. UMNO gaya Orwell: bila Presiden yang terpalit rasuah menuduh orang lain yang menjadi punca “sabotaj” – bila prestasi parti merudum dan kepimpinan enggan mengambil tanggungjawab – bila Presiden sendiri melanggar konsensus “No Anwar No DAP” tapi orang lain dituduh pengkhianat – bila “pembersihan” dijadikan label untuk mencantas lawan!