Malaysian politics is like watching tennis. Instead of playing an active role, the rakyat only lends support as spectators. They watch the two key players on the centre court. Najib Abdul Razak, the reigning champion, struggling with his serves. His opponent, the former champion, Mahathir Mohamad, and the undisputed winner of five general elections, who is attempting a comeback.

Like two tennis players hitting the ball, they trade insults and insinuations. The audience watches, gripped by the action. The bad boy of tennis, loudmouthed and temperamental, delivers his strokes at a furious pace. Why is Mahathir the only man allowed to criticise the government, without censure? Why are the rest of us hauled to jail and charged with sedition?

The rakyat have tried to highlight corruption and injustice for at least 30 years, the Altantuya Shaariibuu murder for eight years and the 1Malaysia Development Berhad (1MDB) since 2012, but Mahathir showed interest within the past few months. So, what finally motivated him?

The art of skewering politicians, in moderate Muslim Malaysia, is defined by two words, ‘Not Allowed!’, and yet satire and black humour is alive and well in conservative Muslim countries. Cartoonists, writers and producers, in Iran, Iraq, Syria, Jordan and Palestine poke fun at the state and its corrupt, hypocritical leaders.

Mahathir may no longer be the head of state, but has assumed his new role as the voice of the rakyat. The rakyat who have been screaming for recognition of its troubles, are now relegated to the back row. No one really cares or bothers about the rakyat.

Najib may have said that his government’s actions could be scrutinised; even he dared not mention the most important proviso, which was not to touch his wife, the self-styled First Lady of Malaysia (Flom) Rosmah Mansor.

Anyone who dares to mention the Flom is given one of two treatments. They are sued, or they are paid a visit by Najib’s own ‘Enforcer’, the inspector-general of police (IGP) Khalid Abu Bakar.

Our leaders lack a sense of humour, and want to be treated with affection, instead of derision, and Sir Alex Ferguson’s ‘hairdryer treatment’. Malaysian politicians take themselves too seriously, and are too delicate and self-obsessed.

We need some decent satire which will sink it’s teeth deeply into politicians and go for the jugular. Depicting politicians as honest, hard-working people, who kiss babies, distribute food bags and help in a community clean-up, most weekends, defeats the purpose of satire.

There is a wealth of material crying-out to be used about Malaysian life, the clerics, the fatwa council, the police, the politicians and the girls from the former Soviet Republic, who are the companions of the super rich.

If race, religion and royalty are off limits, then what else is there to talk about, much less joke about?

The nation is glum and much of our unhappiness is as a result of our leaders. We claim to be a functioning democracy, but fail to allow freedom of expression. We claim to have the best education in the world, but our students are not allowed to express themselves, let alone think independently.

Parodying famous Malaysians

Journalists from the mainstream media live in their comfort zones and would never approach the boundaries of satire. Perhaps we, in the alternative media, should start to parody famous Malaysians, and have our own ‘Spitting Image’ series.

Top of the list is Mahathir, whose caricature was captured by Zunar ( left ), the cartoonist. Mahathir had an exaggerated nose, resembling the Sepang Formula One circuit. In Umno Baru circles, he is allegedly known as the Don. A ‘buku 555' which allegedly lists the misdemeanours of past politicians peeps out of his breast pocket.

A close second, is the Malaysian who has neither an image nor identity, because to name her would court trouble. She ‘who cannot be named’ is shown as a black cut-out against a white background but is instantly recognisable from the overblown RM1,200 hairdo, a full chest, a glittering diamond ring, and a huge handbag.

Najib’s character is in various shades of grey to match his monotonous personality. He does not say much, and occasionally barks, “Utter rubbish! Rubbish! Rubbish!” and like his alter ego, will scream, “You cannot be serious!”  

The IGP’s ample chest is shown resplendent with as many medals as Idi Amin. He is Najib’s ‘Enforcer’ and is like the former dictator, Muammar Gaddafi, another man who sported a chest full of heroic decorations. Khalid wears a hip-belt, and in the holster is the latest iPhone to complete his image as the sharpest tweeter in the east.

A small man in school-boy shorts, and knee high socks, looms in the shadows behind Najib, with a notebook in hand. His youthful features don’t quite match the bald head. Ahmad Maslan jibber-jabbers away, telling anyone who passes by, about the goods and services tax (GST). No one listens, because no one understands him.

Najib’s cousin, Hishammuddin Hussein, sheds copious amounts of sweat. Not from political pressure but his tight leather trousers and jacket make him swelter in the heat. He carries a pair of powerful binoculars, looks through them, forgetting to take away the lens cover, and shouts. “Don’t  worry, I’ve got everything under control”.

The Tourism minister, Nazri Aziz, dishes out kaolin and morphine to every tourist disembarking at KLIA, to cure possible food poisoning. Malaysians have cast-iron stomachs, from years of eating the best food in the world, prepared in the world’s most unhygienic kitchens in the world.

His nadir of despondency is caused by his son Nedim, who once drove around in a Hummer, terrorising the neighbourhood. Nazri is contemplating making Nedim drive a Proton, to reduce his cockiness. Nedim shouldn’t complain. Proton is in the same league as BMW.

Adding more colour to the Malaysian Spitting Image, is former Works Minister Samy Vellu looking like the Malaysian version of Donald Trump. His Malay sounds like gobbledigook and complements the gibberish of Malaysian politicians. None of them make sense. Samy Vellu suffers from the heat, and occasionally takes off the ‘rug’ to fan himself, and keep cool.

There are other interesting images, but they are for another article!

MARIAM MOKHTAR is a defender of the truth, the admiral-general of the Green Bean Army and president of the Perak Liberation Organisation (PLO).