As a writer and thus all too vividly aware that the so-called Roman alphabet gives me only 26 letters to work with, I always find it alarming when even one of them loses its appeal.

Not that one or two or even a few less letters would render me or anyone else entirely illiterate. After all, the ancient Romans themselves got by for centuries, albeit in Latin, not English, without our J, U and W.

And even the most frequently-appearing letter in English, E, can be dispensed with if absolutely necessary, as eccentric US writer Ernest Vincent Wright demonstrated in his E-free 50,000-word 1939 novel Gadsby .

A feat that a certain Georges Perec later emulated in French with his own entirely E-less 50,000-word novel La Disparition .

Ironically, however, as attentive readers will have noted by now, both of these authors were unable to avoid repeated use of the letter E in spelling-out their own names.

Which brings me to my problem, not with E, thank heavens, but another extremely useful letter, or more specifically words and especially names beginning with it, as a result of my deep loathing of former prime minister of Malaysia, Dr Mahathir Mohamad, often referred to for short as Dr M.

A man with such an all-Mbracing sense of his own self-Mportance as to consider himself the very Mblem and Mbodiment of M for Malaysia, Malay and Muslim and to even attempt to memorialise, indeed immortalise his own eminence by giving all his offspring M names too.

Back when I started writing about him, I recall, I had no inkling of what a monstrous risk I was running of developing an emetic reaction to M-words as to seriously consider a self-Mposed Mbargo on my use of the letter M.

Perhaps I was lulled into a false sense of security by childhood affection for such amiable characters as Mickey and Minnie Mouse, and my admiration in adolescence for the likes of Marilyn Monroe.

And in addition I probably assumed that, having retired from office and reached the age of 80 or so, the malevolent medico wouldn’t be around so much longer as to give M the almost terminally bad name it has today.

So at first I rashly M-ed him with blithe abandon, Mploying such a barrage of M words in decrying his malice, mendacity, malfeasance, magniloquence and megalomania that I thought I had about Mptied my supply of them. But in retrospect I now realise that I’d overlooked at least two very obvious ones, money-mad and Mbittered.

Madcap mouthings-off

Not that he’s even slightly Mbarrassed by what a mockery he makes of himself and Malaysia with his madcap mouthings-off, like this week’s pronouncement that “in mature democracies, losers in an election do not go to the streets to nullify results.”

Ostensibly speaking about the current murderous unrest in Egypt, of course he was actually obliquely referring to rallies in Malaysia against Barisan Nasional’s fraudulent ‘win’ of the crooked general election back in May.

“What should losers do? They wait for the next election and try again. That’s what happens in mature democracies,” he said. But what he characteristically didn’t mention was that he, of all people, has been most responsible for so comprehensively emasculating Malaysia’s political and civil institutions that it is not so much a “mature” or even a democracy at all, but something more like an M-docracy.

Yet there he was this week striving to Mpress his audience with a typically anti-Semitic musing that “for more than 10 people to gather, Palestinians need approval from the Israeli Defence Force”, thus reminding those of us unafflicted by Mnesia that his own eMergency order (EO) for decades rendered gatherings of four or more Malaysians illegal.

global peace forum mahathir 161205 mugabe and mahathir “How blessed fortunate and blessed we are as Malaysians in Malaysia,” he went on, as if he was some kind of M for Mandela, but then reverted to more like M for Machiavelli, Mussolini, Mobutu, Marcos, Mubarak or his old M for mate Mugabe with the remark that “Malaysians will have to get used to the apparent (?!) increase in killings on the streets, as it is the price of more freedom.”

Lamenting the loss of one of his and his BN accomplices’ most cherished M-docratic powers, indefinite detention of critics and opponents without charge or trial, claimed that “greater civil liberties mean that the authorities can no longer take preventive action to stop such a crime.”

“The price of freedom, of liberalism, of being free to say what you like, the price is people get killed,” he lied in the face of the fact that people all over the world are forever dying for, not of freedom. And that an estimated 50 million died at the hands of the regime run by arguably the 20th century’s most M for murderous enemy of freedom and liberalism, Mao Tse-tung.

So, considering the mockery that Mahathir and so many fellow malefactors and malignancies make of it, I’ve lost most of my former empathy with the otherwise harmless, blameless and useful letter M, and taken to seriously considering having it removed from my keyboard.

But salvation is at hand, I’m delighted to see, in the person of my fellow Malaysiakini columnist, the marvellous M for Mariam Mokhtar.

I’ve long admired her writing, but this week’s piece, ‘The greatest PM we never had’ is nothing short of eMazing. An 11-point plan, or considering she’s a chemist maybe I should call it a formula, for fixing Malaysia and solving my M problem in one fell swoop.

In light of the character that shines through her columns, initials of her name are enough to raise the reputation of the letter M from the seemingly terminally-tainted state to which it has been reduced by association with the aforementioned Mao, Mobutu, Marcos, Mubarak, Mugabe and Mahathir.

And the first point of her plan or formula for a resurgent Malaysia, 'Detain Mahathir for treason', would solve my Dr M problem into the bargain.

I’d love to have the space here to repeat her other 10 points, but better you read and better yet memorise them for yourself.

Meanwhile, I can conclude this column with new confidence that the letter M is safe and respectable to use as long as it recalls Mariam Mokhtar. And even if the powers that be fail to take her advice to detain Dr M, it can’t be all that much longer before Allah radically improves Malaysia by finally reminding the man for once and for all that he’s only M for mortal.  

DEAN JOHNS, after many years in Asia, currently lives with his Malaysian-born wife and daughter in Sydney, where he coaches and mentors writers and authors and practises as a writing therapist. Published books of his columns for Malaysiakini include ‘Mad about Malaysia', ‘Even Madder about Malaysia', ‘Missing Malaysia', ‘1Malaysia.con’ and ‘Malaysia Mania’.