Friday, August 25, 2017

BRUNO MANSER: Tribute to an Ecowarrior (repost)

Bruno Manser (born August 25, 1954 in Basel, Switzerland) was an environmental activist. He was well-known in Switzerland as a public activist for rainforest preservation and the protection of indigenous peoples.

Life with the Penans

Manser created richly illustrated notebooks during his stay from 1984 to 1990 with the Penan people, in the jungles of the East Malaysian state of Sarawak, on the island of Borneo, near the Indonesian border of Kalimantan. He stayed with the nomadic band of Along Sega, who became the figurehead of the Penan's struggle. Manser also visited many other settled Penan communities in the Upper Baram district. These notebooks were later published by the Christoph Merian press in Basel. Bruno Manser, however, was declared persona non grata in Malaysia and had to leave the country with a bounty of $40,000 on his head.


Activism

Manser protested on an international level on behalf of Sarawak's Penan tribe. On 17 July 1991 Manser chained himself to a lamppost with a banner during the G7 summit until cut loose by the police. His protest was featured on the front page of The Independent newspaper the next day. In 1992 he parachuted into the Rio World Summit on the Environment.

Disappearance

As of 2006, Manser has been declared missing and presumed dead. His last known communication is a letter mailed to his girlfriend on May 22nd, 2000, from the village of Bario, in the Kelabit Highlands, Sarawak, where he had returned to meet the nomadic Penan he had lived with for so long.

Manser is still regarded by the Penan as somewhat of an idol, named Lakei Penan (Penan Male). A man from the outside world who united the Penan and was accused by the Sarawak government of instigating blockades of logging roads (although no proof was ever produced). Manser's efforts created an impact in Tokyo and Europe, alerting people to the inhumanity of the tropical timber industry.

After search expeditions proved fruitless, a civil court in Basel ruled on March 10th, 2005, that Bruno Manser be considered dead. Manser's unpopularity with Sarawak's government and the logging companies such as Samling Plywood - who have been known to use intimidation and violence as scare tactics - have raised suspicions about his disappearancce, none of which has yet been proved.

Anonymous information concerning the presumed murder of Bruno Manser can be sent to this address. [From Wikipedia]


BRUNO AND THE BLOWPIPES
Who will determine the future of Sarawak's Penan?

by Paul Spencer Sochaczewski © 2001

SARAWAK, MALAYSIA: Bruno Manser has disappeared in Borneo and is feared dead.

Manser, 47, was last seen in May 2000 in the isolated village of Bario in the Malaysian state of Sarawak, close to the border with Indonesia. The Swiss had illegally entered Sarawak to rejoin his tribal friends, the Penan, with whom Manser had spent some six years fighting the timber operators that natives claim are destroying their forest home.

I've met Manser several times. We are not close, but I respect his understanding of the realpolitik that is at the heart of most fights between native peoples and paternalistic governments.

He achieved worldwide recognition from 1984-1990 when he lived in the rainforest with the semi-nomadic Penan of Sarawak. Malaysian officials saw him as a fugitive and a provocateur and called him an "enemy of the state number one." Manser constantly avoided arrest with the panache of a Swiss Robin Hood. When he left Sarawak, through Brunei, he returned to Switzerland to create the non-profit Bruno Manser Fonds.

In 1999 he returned to Sarawak and paraglided onto the front lawn of Sarawak Chief Minister Tan Sri Abdul Taib Mahmud's high security residence. Manser offered a truce in exchange for the government creating a biosphere reserve for the Penan. The Swiss man with the impish grin and John Lennon glasses was deported.

Manser has arguably been the most potent catalyst for media coverage of the fight by the Penan, and other Sarawak natives, to protect their forests against what they say are insensitive governments and greedy timber barons.

Defensive Sarawak government officials note that 95% of the state's substantial oil revenue goes to federal coffers, leaving Sarawak little choice but to earn money from natural products, of which timber is by far the most profitable. "Where are we to get money except through the forest," asks Dato James Wong, former Sarawak Minister of Tourism and Local Government and one of the state's leading timber concessionaires.

Malaysia is the world's leading exporter, by far, of tropical logs, tropical sawn wood, and tropical veneer, and second, after Indonesia, a far larger country, of tropical plywood.

According to Bruno Manser Fonds, more than 70% of Sarawak's rainforest has been cut during the past 20 years. Today Malaysian companies run timber operations and plywood mills as far afield as Guyana, Suriname, Papua New Guinea and the Solomon Islands, according to a report by Nigel Sizer of World Resources Institute and Dominiek Plouvier, an independent forestry consultant.

I served in the United States Peace Corps in Sarawak, not too far from where Bruno has disappeared. For my job (and pleasure) I travelled to isolated longhouses, occasionally running into Penan, who appeared like a breath of wind, gratefully accepted some tobacco or salt, and then went about their business.

During those admittedly idyllic days we would throw a circular fishing net into rivers and come up with more than enough fish for dinner. We would go out at night to hunt wild boar and more often than not return with a hairy pig on our shoulders. The rivers were clean, and jungle gibbons hooted their morning call behind the longhouses.

On subsequent trips back to Sarawak I was angry by the desolation of the landscape by timber operators, and heard complaints from dozens of people in dozens of longhouses. Their homes were being destroyed and they weren't getting anything for it. Fishing and hunting was terrible. The rivers were dangerous places, muddy and filled with debris from timber operations.

I visited Penans who had been resettled into government built longhouses - ugly structures with standard government issue architecture similar to army barracks or timber camp housing. Tin roofs amplified the heat, making the residences uninhabitable during the day. The Penan I saw were listless, with vacant eyes. True, they now had access to basic health care and simple schools, but it seemed as if all the energy had been sucked from their thin frames.


When I discussed these issues with Malaysian officials I got a common defensive response, basically, "don't tell us what to do, we know what's best for the Penan and the forests."

"Look at this map," notes Chris Elliott, director of the WWF-World Wide Fund for Nature Forests for Life Campaign. He points to an amorphous shaped illustration published in the Bruno Manser Fonds newsletter that indicates the territory of nomadic Penan and remaining virgin forest in Sarawak. "Bruno backed the Sarawak authorities into a corner by telling them what they should do. Even the slightest whiff of Western lecturing will put them on the defensive," he adds, noting that you'll find similar conflicts and reactions in places like British Columbia in Canada, parts of Australia, Indonesia and Brazil.

Perhaps it was a sloppy tactic - using western style confrontation to get policy changes in an Asian country.

Certainly, Malaysian officials resent being told what to do by pesky foreigners.

During the height of Manser's long Sarawak escapade in the 1980s, Malaysia's Prime Minister Mahathir bin Mohamed had this testy exchange of correspondence with young Darrell Abercrombie from Surrey, England.

Using his best penmanship, the boy wrote:

"I am 10 years old and when I am older I hope to study animals in the tropical rain forests. But if you let the lumber companys [sic] carry on there will not be any left. And millions of Animals will die. Do you think that is right just so one rich man gets another million pounds or more. I think it is disgraceful."

The Prime Minister replied on August 15, 1987:

"Dear Darrell, It is disgraceful that you should be used by adults for the purpose of trying to shame us because of our extraction of timber from our forests.

"For the information of the adults who use you I would like to say that it is not a question of one rich man making a million pounds...

"The timber industry helps hundreds of thousands of poor people in Malaysia. Are they supposed to remain poor because you want to study tropical animals?

"When the British ruled Malaysia they burnt millions of acres of Malaysian forests so that they could plant rubber. Millions of animals died because of the burning. Malaysians got nothing from the felling of the timber. In addition when the rubber was sold practically all the profit was taken to England. What your father's fathers did was indeed disgraceful.

"If you don't want us to cut down our forests, tell your father to tell the rich countries like Britain to pay more for the timber they buy from us.

"If you are really interested in tropical animals, we have huge National Parks where nobody is allowed to fell trees or kill animals.

"I hope you will tell the adults who made use of you to learn all the facts. They should not be too arrogant and think they know how best to run a country. They should expel all the people living in the British countryside and allow secondary forests to grow and fill these new forests with wolves and bears etc. so you can study them before studying tropical animals.

"I believe strongly that children should learn all about animals and love them. But adults should not teach children to be rude to their elders."



What might have happened to Manser?

Perhaps the Malaysian security forces finally caught him and left him for compost in the rainforest. That way the authorities would have saved themselves an embarrassingly visible deportation or trial.

Another possibility, which I hope is the case, is that Manser has gone walkabout and is hanging out with his Penan buddies. Perhaps he got bored with Switzerland, perhaps he felt that he could do more for their cause by advising them close up. Perhaps he is planning a large media coup.

But Newsweek has reported that four Penan-led search parties have not turned up any traces of Manser, and John Kuenzli, secretary of the Bruno Manser Fonds, says, "We are resigned [to the fact] that if Bruno Manser were still alive, he would have been found." Perhaps Bruno's fate is destined to become an unsolved Asian mystery, like the 1967 disappearance of Thai silk entrepreneur Jim Thompson in Malaysia's Cameron Highlands or Michael Rockefeller's disappearance in the Asmat region of New Guinea.

And what will happen to the approximately 9,000 Penan, of whom about 300 are jungle wanderers?

Certainly change is inevitable for the Penan and the thousands of other, generally more sophisticated, indigenous people of Sarawak.

Who has the blueprint for that change?

Several years ago I consulted James Wong Kim Min (left). Dato James was concurrently the Sarawak State Minister of Tourism and Local Government and one of the state's biggest timber tycoons. James Wong loved to talk with foreigners about the Penan, whom the foreign press has idealized as a group of innocent, down-trodden, blowpipe wielding, loin-clothed people who are wise in the ways of the forest but hopelessly naive when faced with modern Malaysian politics.

"I met with Bruno's Penans in the upper Limbang [River]," he said. "I asked the Penan who will help you if you're sick? Bruno?" Here Wong laughed. "The Penans now realize they've been exploited. I tell them the government is there to help them. But I ask them how can I see you if you've blocked the road that I've built for you?"

I asked if he had a message for his critics.

"If [the west] can do as well as we have done and enjoy life as much as we do then they can criticize us. We run a model nation. We have twenty-five races and many different religions living side by side without killing each other. Compare that to Bosnia or Ireland. We've achieved a form of Nirwana, a utopia."

I explained my experience with Penan who had been encouraged by generous government incentives to resettle into longhouses. How their natural environment had been hammered, how their faces were devoid of spirit and energy, how they had seemingly tumbled even further down the Sarawak social totem pole.

In reply, Wong lectured me, as I have been lectured by numerous Asian officials when I raised similar concerns. In effect, he said "We just want our cousins the naked Penan to enjoy the same benefits we civilized folk enjoy."

"We are very unfairly criticized by the west," Wong added. "As early as 1980 I was concerned about the future of the Penans." He read me a poem he had written:

O Penan - Jungle wanderers of the Tree
What would the future hold for thee?....
Perhaps to us you may appear deprived and poor
But can Civilization offer anything better?....
And yet could Society in good conscience
View your plight with detached indifference
Especially now we are an independent Nation
Yet not lift a helping hand to our fellow brethren?
Instead allow him to subsist in Blowpipes and clothed in Chawats*
An anthropological curiosity of Nature and Art?
Alas, ultimately your fate is your own decision
Remain as you are - or cross the Rubicon!


[* loincloths]


Has Manser been successful?

From a public awareness point of view he has certainly directed considerable media attention to the plight of the Penan and other tribal groups.

But he failed at his major objective: getting the Malaysian government to declare a biosphere reserve to protect the Penan and their forest. In an article in the newsletter of the Bruno Manser Fonds, the activist admitted, "success in Sarawak is less than zero."

Chris Elliott, who met Manser several times, agrees that the future isn't bright for the Penan and their forest home. "There is severe pressure from unsustainable logging, forest fires and conversion to plantations," he says.

Manser had a cautious relationship with the conservation mainstream. No doubt he felt that groups like WWF were too soft.

"We differ on the means," Elliott says. "WWF tried to work in partnership with the government and had some success - a few protected areas were established, there was training of staff, and new wildlife legislation was created. But neither Bruno nor WWF succeeded in getting the authorities to create a biosphere reserve, Elliott notes, adding that WWF now has little activity in Sarawak.

Nevertheless, history isn't written by people who follow the rules. Manser sensed a major injustice and challenged the status quo in which his friends the Penan were paternalistically treated as the bottom of the Sarawak social totem pole.

So, how will this Swiss artist turned ecowarrior be judged by history? As an obstinate fighter for a lost cause or a romantic visionary for a victorious change in policy?

What motivated this man from rich Switzerland to live six years in the forest of Borneo with virtually nothing that most people would consider essential? He learned to process food from the starchy sago palm, learned to hunt with a blowpipe, learned how to live a life that was simultaneously ridiculously hard and unimaginably rewarding.

Manser wrote of his epiphany: "It happened in a prison in Lucerne. I was imprisoned there for three months because I had refused to learn how to shoot at human beings. One day I suddenly perceived the space inside the four walls of my cell... how my body acted as a biosphere... to be so small and yet so incredibly rich and important... I flew out of the prison, over to my parents in Basel, to my friends in Amsterdam... I flew on and left our solar system. Then I turned around and flew back. There I sat, back in my body. Since then I carry this certainty in me: everyone of us is nothing and simultaneously the most important creature in its space and place. Indispensable from the first to the last breath...


"So when people say: 'Don't be active, it's just a waste of time, it won't help anyway,' then you already know that they're scared of losing profit and would even sell their own grandmother. Does it have to be the children today who dare say out loud to the politicians and the economists: support what is real and true, avoid what is bad?"

A passage by T.E. Lawrence comes to mind:
All men dream: but not equally.
Those who dream by night in the dusty
recesses of their minds wake in the day
to find that it was vanity;
but the dreamers
of the day are dangerous men,
for they may act their dreams
with open eyes,
to make it possible.

Paul Spencer Sochaczewski © 2001

THE PENAN: True Sons & Daughters of Mother Earth

[First posted 4 November 2008]

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

God Save Us From Religion!

A long but lucid essay by Moris Farhi

[From Free Expression Is NO OFFENCE, edited by Lisa Appignanesi. Penguin 2005]

Moris Farhi
ONE of the wisest people I have ever met was an old Turkish gypsy, a horse-groom in a circus. One night he and I chanced upon each other, together with our respective friends, at a tavern in a village by the Bosporus. As often happens in Istanbul, we joined our tables and drank through the night in an intense spirit of brotherhood. Inevitably, we argued about religion and politics, burning issues in a Muslim country that, not long ago, had risen from the ashes of the Ottoman Empire, abolished the Caliphate and embraced secularism.

The old gypsy made no distinction between religion and politics. For him, humanity was divided into two groups: those who wanted to dictate to the masses and, therefore, cuddled up to despots, and those who, seeking to tend their orchards freely, bent their necks to no one. And since both politics and religion sought power over the people, they were the same Devil with two different – and interchangeable – faces, a fact amply proven by their lust for blood.

Then, at first light, we staggered down the cobbled streets to the sea to watch the dawn. The old gypsy, barely holding back his tears, pointed at the emerging sun. “There is God, our Mother, giving birth to a new day!” He knelt down and scooped up some sand. “Never forget: just this handful of earth contains the blood of thousands. All killed in the name of some Great Father! But how could a male god have created this soil? And which male God?” He sighed and let the sand trickle out of his hands. “Yet every religion says: Our God! Our King of the Universe! Our King over all gods! And to prove it, they send us to kill or get killed!” He turned to the rising sun again. “So when you next pray to God, pray that She saves us from religion!”


MUCH as I thought that the old gypsy’s conviction of a female God was inspired, it was his view of what religion meant that preoccupied me over the years. As with all nebulous concepts, it would be prudent to define it as clearly as possible. The Oxford English Dictionary offers two principal definitions:
1. Action or conduct indicating a belief in, reverence for, and desire to please, a divine ruling power; the exercise or practice of rites or observances implying this.

2. Recognition on the part of man of some higher unseen power as having control of his destiny, and as being entitled to obedience, reverence, and worship; the general mental and moral attitude resulting from this belief, with reference to its effect upon the individual or the community; personal or general acceptance of this feeling as a standard of spiritual and practical life.
At first glance these definitions induce a sense of relief; more importantly, a sense of freedom from individual conscience. Beyond this, they suggest that we have the ability to perceive the ubiquity of ‘a divine ruling power,’ and accept that it is a compassionate presence that will look after us as our birthright.

But a deeper reflection soon disturbs that sense of complacence. Some questions, simple yet as old as humankind, gnaw at our minds. Who or what is this deity? And if He is an ‘unseen’ power, how do we know He exists? (I use the gender ‘He’ because ever since patriarchal societies hijacked the affairs of mankind God has always been seen as masculine.)

View of Vatican City
For those who embrace religion, there is a simple answer to these questions – an answer that constitutes a principal precept of that religion and, therefore, must be accepted as an act of faith. Creation, wherein all the forces of Nature are integrated, the answer states, is the work, therefore the proof, of this power’s existence. And if that were not conclusive enough, it adds, further evidence has been provided by countless prophets who witnessed the divine existence through mysterious manifestations known as revelation. Whether this divinity is conceivable in images of the human male (as in Christianity’s Trinity) or inconceivable, albeit still masculine (as in Judaism and Islam), his presence is constantly felt because he is always by our side, judging us, exhorting us to restrain from sinning, but persistently forgiving us.

However, for those who cannot achieve such a leap of faith – of whom I am one – these answers are not good enough. We ‘doubters’ see the phenomenon of Creation as the evolutionary processes of cause and effect, as happenings that have incontestable – and sometimes predictable – scientific explanations. Even more analytically, we look upon revelation as the fiery visions of theopathy wherein the hyperactive imagination of the ascetic fuses with hysteria, emotional turbulence or delusion.

Moreover, for us ‘doubters’ yet another disturbing question arises. If we cannot accept the existence of a ‘divine power’ – ‘higher and unseen’ – why should we believe that this divinity has control of our destiny and is entitled to obedience, reverence and worship?

Well, many of us do not. Though it can be said that for most of us the belief in a divine power is inculcated so very early in our lives as to seem to be innate, we soon realize that the teaching that this divinity controls our destiny and that, therefore, he must be worshiped, has been imposed by the very institutions created around that divinity’s persona. Anthropological studies have shown that in many polytheistic societies the relationship between people and their deities has been, in the main, fairly accommodating, sometimes like a practical business arrangement, at other times like an essential element of a person whereby he or she can establish a mystic, respectful, even if somewhat bewildered, coexistence with the vagaries of the collective unconscious. But the moment this relationship is taken over by an intermediary – a religious institution – the personal rapport between the individual and his/her inner life becomes undermined.

The institution, claiming to base its authority either on its own ‘profound understanding of the deity’ or on the putative ‘direct’ (and therefore sacrosanct) teachings received by that deity’s luminaries, elevates itself to the status of the deity’s representative on earth. Thenceforth, it is the institution which exacts the obedience, reverence and worship not only to the deity, but also, and particularly, to the institution itself and to its functionaries. Examples of this obligation can be found in the Pauline doctrines; in the total obeisance Shiite Islam commands for the clergy it has designated as Allah’s intermediaries; and in the similar self-abnegation Orthodox Judaism expects from its adherents in the execution of its laws, many of them archaic.

When institutions and their rulers take upon themselves the control of humanity’s destiny, they soon curtail notions of free will – or worse, of evolving enlightenment. Not only can progressive developments not be accommodated, they are also anathematized as heretical. Strategies of obedience, reverence and worship, if they are to prove effective, must be structured in such a way as to touch every person within their reach, to take cognizance of their lives, aspirations and concerns. Such structures need myriad tentacles; and each tentacle needs not only to address the spatial and spiritual needs of the people, but must also be seen to be vested with the authority of its ‘higher, unseen’ power – a power which can be nothing less than omniscient and insuperable.

Homage to the Owl at Bohemian Grove
By their very nature, such structures cannot be created by any one individual. Consequently, they have to be assembled as tenets of an oligarchic institution. And such an institution endeavors to establish itself not only as superior to secular and political bodies, but also, and particularly, to other religious institutions. Even more alarmingly, it seeks to elevate itself as a body that possesses ‘the absolute truth’ and, therefore, is untarnishable by revision. To achieve this objective, it is prepared to crush any dissension mercilessly, if need be with punishments which violate its original clement doctrines. An institution, in effect, which, stretching its ostensibly devotional aims to limits that are virtually limitless, seeks to evolve as a sole and inviolable monolith.

That is precisely how every religion has endeavored to establish itself throughout history: as an omnipotent monolith. Even more irremissibly, as in the case of theocracies, they have sought to rule as the unchallengeable and unaccountable representatives of an indomitable god who is ‘seen and reachable’ only by their sacerdotal order. (In our time, Iranian exiles who have fled the ayatollahs’ rule have chilling stories about the period when dissenters and intellectuals were being systematically executed. On occasions when a particular intellectual was proven to be innocent of the charges against him, the presiding ayatollahs would often declare that if the accused were indeed innocent he would go straight to paradise and should therefore be grateful to the regime for ending his inconsequential earthly life ahead of its allocated time. History, of course, is full of similar crimes perpetrated by all religions.)

Though it is in the nature of ruthless individuals and institutions to wield power absolutely, this is not always an easy undertaking. Absolute power has always had one redoubtable adversary: humankind’s ability to reason. Moreover, humankind is also blessed with an intrinsic essence of ‘natural justice.’ (Whole tracts can be written about natural justice. Suffice to say here that the concept is universal, that in all probability we are born with an instinctive, if as yet unformulated, awareness of its truth. This awareness is essential to our development as moral individuals; and provided that indoctrination and fear of freedom have not distorted its core veracity, we carry its sense throughout our lives. (Some may dispute this contention, yet psychological studies of infants have shown that, unless impinged upon by their parents’ insecurities, infants will develop this moral sense from within.) Natural justice is, in effect, our awareness of our ‘ethical self,’ the self that struggles against the injustices of limitless power. Indeed, it is the innate basic philosophy which, seeking a temperate way of life, produced the set of rules that became the foundations for morality, and imposed itself as commandments on most religions. In many countries, this sense of justice has led to procedural practice stipulating two primary rules: (a) to hear out the accused; (b) to be judged by an unbiased body of people.)

Thus, any institution that seeks power must devise strategies to defeat reason and refute this deeply personal sense of natural justice. Moreover, power is a Moloch; it needs constant feeding. And the more it is fed, the more insatiable it becomes. Consequently, the thrust for incontrovertible power, the corruption that invariably ensues, compels that institution to use any means to consolidate its existence. Thus whilst the institution may appear to uphold a benevolent morality – or at least speak in its language – it does so conditionally. And the condition is the imposition of total compliance to the particular religion’s dogmas, hierarchies and, above all, to the God-given, therefore, immaculate, revelations it professes to possess.

In pursuit of this objective, it proceeds to promulgate strategies that, more often than not, amend or reinterpret the precepts originally inspired by natural justice. It creates doctrines that become all the more codified, all the more rigid, all the more blinkered, all the more authoritarian. As a last resort, it creates ‘irrefutable’ dogmas that subvert our sense of the ethical self. And, of course, by so doing, it soon loses its moral base.

One would be inclined to think that these strategies are subtly devious, the sort one would expect after serious deliberation. In fact, more often than not, they are quite simple: just crude doctrinaire ‘truths’ of ‘divine authority’ which exploit individuals’ insecurities and destabilize their life-long struggle in search of a personal truth. For these strategists know, from schemes established over the centuries, that people’s primordial fears over survival, confusions about the meaning of life and uncertainties about the existence of life after death, offer them the perfect vulnerable underbelly.

And thus they manipulate our cravings for the final resolution of these deeply personal conflicts as a vehicle to sustain their rule. Their guiding principles to secure eternal survival for our souls are invariably licences to intensify the codification of life and guarantee continuous and incontestable governance. Hence damnation becomes the weapon which threatens the dissident, with salvation and paradise the respite from the struggle for a personal life. Unquestioning submission is established as the ultimate resolution for the sense of a life that feels personal.

Consequently most religions – certainly the three monotheisms – teach us that our lives are of relative unimportance, that they are simply a test of merit for eternal salvation that will come with the Last Judgement. In effect they instruct us to worship death instead of life. The doctrine of an eternally exultant existence after death to which only the righteous will be entitled has poisoned our earthly life and promoted suffering as a fundamental goal, as the justification for being. Its most extreme policies have even condoned the extermination of so-called pagans and unbelievers so that in death they would attain salvation because their souls would be automatically purified. The Spanish Inquisition and the genocide of Amerindians in South America at the time of the Spanish Conquest are horrendous examples of such principles.

Today, there is a fast-growing faction among the Christian fundamentalists of the USA obsessed with impending salvation. These believers keep an eager eye on what they call ‘The Rapture Index.’ As reported by Jon Carroll in the San Francisco Chronicle of 23 February 2005 and accessible via the internet, this index ‘based on 45 prophetic categories, things (sic) like drought, plague, floods, liberalism, beast government and mark of the beast’ heralds the return of the Son of God and the advent of the Last of Days –‘The Rapture’ – when the Index will exceed 145. At this time – all true believers, meaning all those worthy of ‘The Rapture,’ will be transported to heaven. They will sit by the right-hand side of God whilst the rest of humanity – Antichrists, every one of them – will be ‘left behind,’ condemned to hell for eternity.

The concept of ‘Those Left Behind’ is one that all dogmatists have exploited throughout history in many tongues. It is a concept which leaves no room for mercy. It affirms endless bliss for the believer and eternal damnation for the rest.

The Ka'aba in Mecca
Like all institutions, religions are in competition with each other. Their survival depends on the number – and power – of believers who embrace their doctrines. The larger their flock, the more assured they can be of maintaining authority by defeating the not inconsiderable challenge of rational thought. Consequently, proselytizing is one of their principal objectives. To this effect, they have developed yet another potent principle: exclusivity. Thus those who join them are ‘guaranteed to be saved,’ those who do not join them will be ‘left behind’ and damned. The exception to seeking converts actively is Judaism; the adherents to that religion are ‘saved’ by the notion that they are the ‘Chosen People.’ Even if some of us would question what this ‘favor’ sanctions and what it has secured for the Jews, the belief is equally elitist. And since elitism is exclusivity by another name, Judaism offers a similar syndrome.

Exclusivity has two salient weapons: contempt and hatred.

As proof that their religion has been handed down to them by a supreme divinity – and by so doing refuting the humanist argument that all religions have evolved from our primal fears – religious institutions besmirch each other’s dogmas as fantasy, delusion and falsehood. They strive to establish themselves as the purveyors of ‘the true religion,’ the possessors of ‘the ultimate truth,’ the visionaries who have recognized ‘the real God’ and have come to know Him as the legitimate ‘King of the Universe.’ Such contempt, pronounced as conclusive, holds great sway. It rids individuals of uncertainty and assuages their existential fears; it destabilizes reason even as reason struggles to discern a sense of personal truthfulness.

Should contempt fail, there is an even more toxic weapon: persistent hatred – hatred that is directed at other religions, nations, races, factions, identities; even hatred for the sexually different; hatred that transgresses one of the most important commandments in the Scriptures: “love the stranger in thy midst” (strikingly, a commandment that failed to be listed among the ten that Moses brought down from Mount Sinai). This hatred is rooted in the most paranoid portions of our sacred texts – and not least in the minds of their exegetes. This hatred dehumanizes brothers and neighbors and and creates the non-persons, the ‘others,’ making them the culprit for all our grievances, past and present.

Permit me to refer to a talk I gave some years back in relation to the fatwa issued against Salman Rushdie (pictured left with his wife Padma Lakshmi) by one of those ‘good men of God,’ Ayatollah Khomeini. In it I referred to an unpublished article by the psychoanalyst Christopher Hering entitled ‘The Problem of the Alien.’ This paper – analyzing the science-fiction film Alien and its sequels – discoursed on a condition which Hering defined as ‘emotional fascism.’

Proposing that if a force can be mythified as life-threatening or, worse, as an arch-enemy that threatens all humanity, he postulated that psychotic fiction can masquerade as objective truth. Thereafter, he maintained, the most destructive impulses – impulses we would abhor at any other time – would be tolerated, even nurtured as a means of salvation. By the same token, all feelings of compassion, concern, doubt, proscription would be discarded. Thereafter the idea of annihilation would receive the sanction to develop into a justifiable objective, indeed, into a moral imperative.

Ayatollah Khomeini (1902-1989)
Psychotic fiction as objective truth is precisely what religious institutions – and by their example, unscrupulous politicians – have often utilized. They have created a continuous narrative wherein other peoples and races are depicted as empty of soul, with no capacity for thought and with only one vision: the compulsion to destroy ‘our values and way of life.’ These people, therefore, they argue, must be subjugated – even exterminated – so that not only the followers of the particular religion, but also the very soul of humanity itself may be saved.

UNDOUBTEDLY my blanket condemnation of religious institutions will provoke strong protests. Many reading this thesis will argue that there have been numerous movements in every religion that have not only endeavored to generate reforms, but also sought coexistence with other faiths. (For example: Pope John XXIII’s convocation of the Second Vatican Council, the present-day US-Jewish organization Tikkun – meaning ‘to heal’ – which preaches, under Rabbi Lerner, a Universal Spirituality. And, of course, the Sufi teachings for total union with Allah that have defied Islamic fundamentalism for centuries.) Just as importantly, every religion has produced countless remarkable men and women who have toiled unselfishly – sometimes at the cost of their lives – to better the human condition.

Anatomy of a synagogue
I do not dispute these facts. There have indeed been people of religion who have put humanistic values above blind acceptance of dogma. But these people’s eventual fates strengthen my argument, because, tragically, sooner or later, these good people and their reformist movements become marginalized by the conservative core of their establishment’s oligarchic rulers. This core comprises individuals who, to use the old adage of the Soviet Politburo, have ‘substantial tails’ – subordinates in important or influential positions who either through ideological conviction or for personal gain have vowed allegiance to their patron. Though these ‘tails’ are neither homogeneous, nor, having their own internecine conflicts, stable, they nevertheless, in the main, subjugate their ambitions to preserve the status quo in order to ensure their own survival.

Indeed, such is the power entrenched in these oligarchic structures that dissidents and innovators are either eventually compromised or find themselves forced to operate as singular voices with virtually no support. (Pope John XXIII’s reforms have drained away like flash floods in a desert through the conservatism of his successors, including Pope John Paul II. No matter how valiant Tikkun’s efforts are, its campaigns stand solitarily outside mainstream theologies. And fundamentalist Islam brutally persecutes the Sufi teachings of peaceful spirituality.)

Moreover, as entrants to religious institutions attempt movement and change with more radical aspirations, they are almost always neutralized by what the political philosopher Robert Michels long ago termed ‘the iron law of oligarchy,’ the state of mind whereby an organization becomes controlled by a small group who use it to further their own interests rather than the interests of the organization’s members. Thus reformists, drawn at first into the institution’s hierarchy as necessary innovators, are gradually rendered ineffective in the institution’s bureaucratic quagmires. By the time they realize that their vitality has been utilized to strengthen the oligarchy’s power and exclusivity, they have either lost their original élan or their credibility; thereafter, they either disappear quietly into oblivion or become what was once detestable to them, conformist strands of the establishment.

As for the heroes of religions – the martyrs and saints elevated to reverence – they are perhaps the most exploited by religious institutions. Much as they are depicted as paragons of righteousness, they are used as armies utilize soldiers – expendable as long as their sacrifices keep their institutions in power. Moreover, the adulation bestowed on them has one principal objective: to endow the institution with fresh blood, to provide, by the example of their heroic sacrifices, the inspiration for martyrs that will be needed in the future. (Examples abound: the slain lay priests of the Liberation Theology Movement in Latin America, calumnied by their own churches during their lifetime, are now seen as Christ-like; the suicide bombers of Islam and Israel’s ultra-Orthodox settlers in the West Bank are glorified as august defenders of their respective splintered faiths.)

YET, the question remains: if we turn our backs on religion, where else would we find the anchor so needed by the human spirit?

Well, it is, of course, imperative that we have secular states that will kowtow to no religion. I say this knowing only too well that even secular states are prey to ‘the iron law of oligarchy.’ But at least secular states provide the individual with the freedom to reclaim his or her relationship with God as a deeply personal communion that has evolved from the ethical self.

If I may, I will go beyond that imperative and offer a wistful thought.

I am an ardent believer in the sexuality that binds together body and spirit. And as my last statement of this thesis, I must highlight the profound antagonism towards sexual desire, and most particularly towards women, promoted by almost every religion.

Women are the other ‘other’ of religions. They are excluded by the three monotheisms from virtually all human affairs. Among some factions they are considered unclean and untouchable, save for the purposes of procreation – their only ‘use’ – undeserving of a place in the human family. The exceptions, exemplified by Lady Macbeth’s desperation, are the ‘unsexed’ women who have become like men – such as the mythic Amazons who cut off their breasts in order to wield bow and arrow. This is, of course, the ultimate exclusivity for patriarchal society’s vision of unalterable dominant norms.

Hence, my wistful prayer.

It is time, as my old gypsy friend in Istanbul declared, to feel God as a feminine force in us all. It is time to free ourselves from the poisoned teachings of patriarchal religions. It is time to seek a society where both the feminine and the masculine are represented as co-creators. It is time to worship life instead of death and go searching, as Fernando Pessoa writes in The Book of Disquietude, “beyond God to surprise the Master’s secret and the profound Good.” That ‘secret and profound Good’ can only be our femininity, chained and incarcerated.


Moris Farhi © 2005

[First posted 18 December 2007]

A WHODUNIT WITH HEART, MIND AND SOUL (repost)


Coming up with a good opening line is every author’s challenge – especially so if one happens to be debuting as a crime novelist. For his maiden attempt at producing fast-paced pulp fiction with pith, Alois Leinweber settled on this one: 

“The woman sat down close to him, close enough for him to feel her warmth through his trousers.”

It worked for me as I found myself turning all 252 pages of Jasmine for the Dead with eagerness and ease. Set in Kuala Lumpur, the Malaysian capital, the book starts off as a classic whodunit, with an honest cop as the main protagonist and much of the action revolving around the discovery of a naked white body by the steps of the national monument – dead, of course, skull bashed in with a hard object and a bullet wound in the neck.

Turns out the murder victim is an Englishman named James Hollander, freelance journalist and former British soldier posted in Malaya. Apparently he has been shot with an army issue pistol from the early post-war era.

Chief Inspector Chee Keong is the sort of detective who rarely gets in the news – simply because he takes his job seriously and enjoys it. Assisted by his trusty sidekick Haris Askandar, Inspector Chee Keong is modeled after famous fictional sleuths like Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot – a cop with razor-sharp intelligence and a bloodhound nose who somehow manages to remain likeable and human despite his less-than-pleasant job.

The English translation of his book was launched at Bukit Kiara Equestrian and Country Club on 11 May 2014

Leinweber takes pains to develop the Chief Inspector as his central figure, so that within a couple of chapters he serves as the reader’s alter ego even as he pulls together the various plot strands. Apart from his detective work, Chee Keong has a personal life. He jogs, he has a wide circle of friends, he’s well read, likes his food, enjoys travel, and he has an alluring Malay girlfriend named Sharifah. The author uses the romance between Inspector Chee Keong and Sharifah to shed some light on problems confronting interracial couples, and I don’t doubt that some of it is autobiographical.

Investigating the murder of James Hollander leads the dedicated sleuth down many intriguing paths across a broad span of time and space. We learn that the murdered Englishman is linked with the 1948 Batang Kali massacre – another ugly blot in the history of British colonialism wherein 24 unarmed Chinese villagers were brutally executed as a warning to others against collaborating with Communist insurgents. Relatives of those killed in Batang Kali have waited 66 years for the British government to apologize and compensate them – but in vain. Was James Hollander a member of the Scots Guards platoon responsible for this bloodbath? Why had he been visiting Batang Kali and seeking out surviving relatives of those shot in cold blood?

The dead journalist, we learn, was previously married to a German named Petra Schmidt, senior executive in a Frankfurt-based pharmaceutical firm with a few skeletons in its closet involving contaminated medicines (which they were foisting off in Southeast Asia through their Bangkok office). Although long estranged from one another Petra and James had yet to formalize their divorce.

True to his calling as an investigative journalist, Hollander had been digging into this scandal and had uncovered enough documentary evidence to do an exposé that would have devastating consequences on the pharmaceutical firm. Instead of admitting to unethical practices, the company had invested in a high-powered public relations agency based in Kuala Lumpur to do some damage control.

Funnyman Harith Iskander jokes with Alois Leinweber

Inspector Chee Keong also learns that the dead man had had a keen interest in Malaysia’s notorious human trafficking syndicates. Hollander had apparently taken it upon himself to establish a special fund to help stranded foreign workers, lured over to Malaysia by unscrupulous recruiting agents, who then confiscated their passports and forced them into slave labor. Realizing that negative publicity alone wouldn’t solve the problem because of entrenched corruption within the Malaysian bureaucracy, James Hollander had begun extorting “donations” from agencies recruiting foreign labor, which he then channeled into his fund.

To further complicate the plot, James Hollander shared an apartment with his gay lover, a German expatriate named Hubert Gehrcke, who seemed troubled about his partner’s promiscuous tendencies.

With so many different leads to work with, Inspector Chee Keong is hard pressed to find out which one to follow. On top of all this, he has to deal with a less than supportive Chief of Police, his immediate boss, the crusty Datuk Nazim Ahmad (whose personal secretary, Azleena, happens to have a soft spot for Inspector Chee Keong, thereby easing the tension a little).

Another Datuk enters the thickening plot, Azmi Hamid, director-general of the Immigration Department. Suspicion surrounds this suave character who openly admits to the detectives that he was once a partner in a foreign worker recruitment agency. Datuk Azmi solemnly warns Chee Keong and Haris that there are moles in the Police Force they must flush out.

With Dr Hans Volker Wolf (former director of Goethe-Institut, Kuala Lumpur)

What Leinweber has achieved with Jasmine for the Dead is nothing less than a craftsmanlike tour de force. It’s not easy to keep so many balls in the air with a plot so rich in false trails and red herrings. For a first novel, he has succeeded admirably in serving up as a main dish a mature and intelligent crime thriller in the classic whodunit format – with lots of titillating side dishes thrown in.

In the process Leinweber manages to address a plethora of political issues that constitute the shadow side of Malaysia’s sunny disposition – the smiling face she presents to the casual tourist. Particularly poignant are his revelations on exactly how human trafficking works in Malaysia. The nightmare zone he leads his reader through is stark and vivid. Indeed, it was what triggered my decision to review Jasmine for the Dead – just to get the message out to more people who need to know what’s going on.

The author himself is certainly no casual tourist, having lived several decades in Malaysia with his German-educated Malaysian wife. I was introduced to him many years ago as someone with wide ranging interests and skills. Apart from being (yes, you guessed it) a freelance journalist, Alois Leinweber also teaches German, literature, and music in an international school. He has also written travel books and produced a 30-minute documentary (Rebel Dancer, 2003) on legendary classical Indian dancer and choreographer Ramli Ibrahim. Apart from that, he’s a passionate accordionist and aficionado of the arts.

I assume he can also cook, as he pays loving attention to what his characters consume at every meal, making his whodunit work overtime as a culinary guide to Malaysia. It was a distinct pleasure to see my own country through his eyes and I heartily applaud Alois Leinweber for doing a thoroughly magnificent job of capturing the subtle flavors and nuances that make Malaysia so unique.

A bit of chamber music for the book launch

If I wished to nitpick, I might pounce on the fact that I found the ending a bit of an emotional letdown. As Malaysians we have become almost paralyzed by our inability to vote out the corrupt regime that has bled the national coffers for almost 44 years – or since the introduction in 1970 of a barely concealed apartheid system that has effectively promoted mediocrity to the very top, forcing a massive brain drain of talent and oppressing those who opt to stay).

It has reached the point where we feel deeply disappointed whenever the big fish get away with murder – as they invariably do, and continue to do so, even in works of fiction.

And this may sound petty but as a lifelong smoker, I couldn’t help feeling slightly affronted by his constant harping on people’s tobacco habits. But apart from that, Leinweber’s preliminary venture into pithy pulp fiction gave me so much pleasure, I am already looking forward to seeing Inspector Chee Keong and his assistant Haris Askandar in their next detective adventure.

Who knows, somebody might even have the good sense to buy the movie rights to this stimulating sizzler.

Jasmine for the Dead was originally written in German and published as Jasmin für einen Toten. The English translation was published under the Aletheia imprint in May 2014 and is distributed by Gerakbudaya.

[First posted 7 July 2014]




Monday, August 14, 2017

Zahid Hamidi: the primate alpha male that would be prime minister (updated)

Political animal: Ahmad Zahid Hamidi (photo: The Malaysian Insider)

In the late 1990s Ahmad Zahid Hamidi, former disciple of Anwar Ibrahim, was one of Umno’s young turks impatient for power and glory. In 1998, as an Umno Youth divisional chief, Zahid led a campaign to expose corruption and cronyism within the party. Their real target, of course, was the colossus of money politics, Dr Mahathir.

But Mahathir deftly turned the tables on Zahid by revealing the goodies he had received from pro-Anwar business tycoons. When Anwar got fired in September 1998, Zahid Hamidi was among his close supporters in the nascent Reformasi movement.

Following another street demonstration against Mahathir, Zahid Hamidi was arrested under the ISA along with many others, but was quickly released, after he caved in and denounced Anwar as the main instigator of the rebellion within Umno. Although he resigned as Bagan Datoh Umno Youth chief, Zahid remained an Umno member and began plotting his slow but steady return to political favor.

Born-again Umnoputra

The finger-pointing game
In 2004 after Abdullah Ahmad Badawi won a landslide victory, Zahid Hamidi got his break as deputy minister of tourism. He began studying for a doctorate from UPM to upgrade his political credentials. After the March 2008 election which saw BN lose its coveted two-thirds parliamentary majority, Zahid was promoted to full minister in the PM’s department. When Najib Razak took over from Abdullah Badawi in April 2009, a cabinet reshuffle saw Zahid Hamidi appointed defence minister.

Before entering politics, Ahmad Zahid Hamidi was a banker with OCBC, and he later became a director of Bank Simpanan Nasional, as well as Permodalan Nasional Berhad (PNB).

There is no doubt that Ahmad Zahid Hamidi (born 4 January 1953 of mostly Javanese ancestry) is a political animal through and through in the traditional Umno warlord mode. Having nearly got derailed early in his career by backing the wrong horse, he became a born-again Umnoputra, throwing his lot in with whichever faction had the advantage.

Umno Youth leaders Khairy Jamaluddin & Hishammuddin Hussein laugh their heads off

As defence minister Zahid Hamidi took the heat off his boss Najib by making a big noise over the Scorpene scandal, although he himself was never directly involved in the deal. 

In appreciation Najib offered him the powerful home ministry portfolio, after Najib’s cousin Hishammuddin Hussein made a big fool of himself, especially with his heavy-handed mishandling of the Bersih rallies. Hishammuddin took over the defence portfolio, where he could maintain a lower public profile, while safeguarding his cousin’s interests in terms of ongoing arms deals.

Family scandal

Almost as soon as he stepped into his new office as home minister, Zahid Hamidi began shooting from the hip by talking tough and taking vindictive action against organizers of PKR’s Black 505 rallies, following upon the disappointing results of the 13th general election - which opened the public’s eyes to the fact that BN had stolen almost every election since Mahathir’s ridiculously extended term as PM through shameless gerrymandering, rigging of the electoral roll, and postal votes.

Less than a month into his new job, Zahid Hamidi was hit by a major scandal when news broke that a businessman named Amir Bazli Abdullah had filed assault and battery charges against him dating back to January 2006 – when Zahid had allegedly punched Amir at the Country Heights Recreational Club in Kajang. 

On a different occasion, Amir claimed that several men abducted him from a petrol station and took him to Zahid’s residence where the deputy minister and other male relatives gave him a severe thrashing. (“They beat me with rocks and other objects. They even threatened to put me in a gunny sack and bury me.”)

Amir Bazli Abdullah showing the clothes he was wearing
when Zahid Hamidi allegedly assaulted him
Zahid Hamidi arrived at the court hearing in full ministerial glory, with police outriders, bodyguards and a huge entourage of supporters. The businessman Amir Bazli Abdullah (who had been dating Zahid’s married daughter) was pressured into settling out of court for an undisclosed amount, after a closed door session with the sessions court judge where no lawyers were allowed.

Amir Bazli with lawyer Gobind Singh Deo
Amir Bazli Abdullah had engaged Karpal Singh and his son Gobind Singh Deo as his lawyers, knowing full well he was up against the Umno mafia which invariably protects its own. 

In any civilized nation, Ahmad Zahid Hamidi would have voluntarily resigned – or at least taken a long leave of absence pending trial. Not so in Bolehland where the powerless are deemed guilty unless proven innocent, while the powerful are never found guilty at all, not even of cold-blooded murder (except in one recorded instance in 1982 when Culture, Youth & Sports Minister Mokhtar Hashim was convicted of murder, but subsequently pardoned by the Agong after he had served some time in prison).

"They even threatened to put me in
a gunny sack and bury me"
Gobind Singh Deo was reported to have said: “I reiterate my urging to the prime minister to suspend Ahmad Zahid Hamidi as the home minister pending trial. I will also raise the matter in Parliament. The allegations against him are serious in nature and they extend beyond assault.” We have seen that any issue of serious import that threatens Umno bigwigs is invariably rejected by the Speaker as trivial.

In July 2013 Amir Bazli Abdullah changed his mind about an out-of-court settlement with Ahmad Zahid, and sought to nullify the sessions court’s mediation in the sordid affair. He admitted to having been thoroughly intimidated at the time by what he was up against.


Next imbroglio

Zahid Hamidi has since stunned the nation with his reckless remarks at an Umno ceramah in Melaka where his speech was secretly recorded by an opposition assemblyman. Zahid told his audience that 28,000 of the 40,000 gang members identified are Indians, and that there was nothing wrong in detaining them without trial.

"What is the situation of robbery victims, murder victims during shootings? Most of them are Malays. Most of them are our race. I think the best way is that we no longer compromise with them. There is no need to give them any more warning. If we get the evidence, we shoot first," the home minister reportedly said.

That’s cowboy talk, not something one would expect hearing from a home minister - and for Zahid’s Umno colleagues to rush to his defence by brushing his speech off as routine grandstanding on the campaign trail reveals their cavalier attitude towards ministerial accountability. It is obvious that Zahid Hamidi has been riding on the crest of a fresh surge of communal sentiments stirred up by BN’s poor electoral showing in the past five years.

Low-grade saber-rattling

Following Dr M’s tried and tested strategy of playing off the Malays’ insecurity against the impatience of Chinese voters for an end to racial discrimination, Zahid has taken on the role of the new Umno strongman.
Najib Razak and his powerful spouse, it appears, would rather take extended working holidays at enormous public expense where he can pose as the moderate, reasonable leader of a peaceful, harmonious Muslim-majority nation while she gleefully goes shopping and hobnobbing with celebrities.

Indeed, Najib seems quite relieved that he can delegate the low-grade saber-rattling to his newly minted home minister, whose impressive lead in the recent Umno vice-presidential polls indicates that he has become a serious contender for the president’s post.

In the eyes of Umno’s semi-literate, rent-seeking rank-and-file, Ahmad Zahid Hamidi may well be the next messiah – the straight-talking, chest-thumping, fang-baring primate alpha jantan (virile male) they can look to, who will save them from being overwhelmed by infidels, liberals, pluralists, reformists, and those of indeterminate gender – but, above all, from Anwar Ibrahim’s ascendancy to power.

Ahmad Zahid Hamidi has now to overcompensate for his own testicular frailty in 1998 when he betrayed his mentor Anwar Ibrahim and sheepishly returned to the Umno fold. True, he was much younger then and still relatively new to the shark-infested waters of Umno politics. But Zahid has paid his dues as a true-blue Umno warlord by mortgaging his conscience to political expediency.




Without a conscience to call his own, what does he have to lose? He has everything to gain by embracing the role of the next Umno godfather – now that the original godfathers like Mahathir Mohamad and Daim Zainuddin appear to be well past their use-by date. However, as recent developments attest, some old tigers never lose their bite. At the ripe old age of 92 Mahathir Mohamad is once again at the forefront of Malaysian politics, leading the charge against his erstwhile protégé, Najib Razak, also known as Mr Pink Lips or the infamous kleptocrat MO1.

Zahid Hamidi's assault and battery case seems to have been quietly buried – just like his embarrassing attempt in December 2014 to defend international gambling kingpin Paul Phua against an FBI investigation. A few weeks ago, Zahid Hamidi found himself in deep shit once again when Dr M slyly revealed that Zahid had seen him privately to seek his support in a possible coup against his boss Najib. This triggered vigorous denials and public displays of solidarity among Umno's top-rank warlords, but it has exposed yet another huge crack in Umno's defences. The fact that Najib was prompted to create a special position for his cousin Hishammuddin Hussein, facilitating his candidacy as the next Umno president, indicated that there was little real trust between him and his deputy.


At this juncture Najib cannot afford to abruptly dismiss, sideline, or sack Zahid Hamidi who is influential among Umno's underworld elements. Indeed, there is ample reason to suspect that Zahid may well be a secret chief of Tiga Line, a clandestine association of Malay gangsters allied with Umno.
Mahathir Mohamad & Zahid Hamidi: Supermamak vs Java Man (pic courtesy of Malaysiakini)

The only real obstacle in Ahmad Zahid Hamidi’s path to power and glory, ironically, is the unstoppable Mahathir Mohamad, who will have his way - even if it means shocking everybody by forming an electoral pact with old nemeses like DAP's Lim Kit Siang and the imprisoned Anwar Ibrahim, who remains the most popular prime minister candidate in the event a new federal government wins the day.

[From Malaysia Chronicle, 3 November 2013, reposted 13 January 2014]