‘My wife can do a better job,’ as my Aussie friend often scribbles – besides drawing a Mickey - on the ballot paper for each local, state and federal election.

Why, I wonder, would someone relinquish the right to elect his representative in the local council and parliament? ‘It’s my protest vote,’ he quipped. ‘They’re all the same. Corrupt liars, incompetent and can’t be trusted.’ Sounds to me a bit like politics back home.

My friend, for the first time, made good his vote last November – just to be sure that Kevin Rudd’s Labour Party would end nearly 12 years of conservative rule by John Howard’s Liberal Coalition party. What a refreshing change it has been so far. Policies and projects approved by Howard’s government - from education, immigration and industrial relations to defence, climate change and indigenous affairs – are being reviewed with some abolished.

Twelve years in government is somewhat overstaying in Australian politics. Public gossip essentially attributed Howard’s humiliating loss in last November’s election to his accumulative arrogance and increasingly ‘authoritarian’ leadership style. To an extent, he mirrored his buddy George W Bush’s worldview: ‘You’re either with me or against me’. Indeed, sounds to me a bit like politics back home.

The cultural difference is that election period in Australia, where voting is compulsory, is akin to a silly season sweeping through the media-scape. Frivolous political satire and buffoonery sits comfortably with seemingly profound punditry.

The gaffes, policies for change and promises of a better future pitched by government as well as opposition candidates are as newsworthy as the zany manifestos of unknown parties from all sorts of ideological platforms. It’s a silly season of entertaining political caricatures on television, radio - and YouTube with the Web 2.0 generation.

Mini-vans, lorries

What if election campaigns in Malaysia took on a bit of the Aussie flair? What if the media could lighten up with a bit of open banter and debates between worthy candidates from the major parties? Imagine Lim Kit Siang and Anwar Ibrahim debating on camera - ‘Live from Angkasapuri" - with their equals from the ruling parties in Bahasa, interlaced with English where appropriate.

Plus the debaters’ performance assessed by Malaysian studio viewers in Angkasapuri using a reaction-tracking device, such as ‘The Worm’ which was used in the Howard-Rudd debate last November. Indeed, that would make Malaysian political history – one day, maybe. Not today. Not with our present cohort of intellectually-challenged politicians sitting passively, complacent and unaccountable through many terms in government.

Malaysian electioneering is a period of scare-mongering, covert threats and secrecy. I remember vividly the climate of fear in 1968. My parents, uncles and aunties, grandpa and grandma, and the neighbours in Tanjung Tokong, Penang were transported by lorries to the polling booths. The lorries were decked with streamers of blue sailboats ( kapal layar ), the symbol of the ruling Alliance then. Kids were not allowed on board for the free rides. Voting booths were only for adults.

Competing for passengers were mini-vans bearing the red flag with a black head of a bull, the symbol of the Labour Party. The lorries were often full. The mini-vans were discreetly avoided. None wished to be identified as a supporter of the ‘red’ (with its communist connotation) labour union party although, I recall, many of the neighbours apparently voted otherwise.

It was a guessing game as to who voted for which party. The unspoken consensus? It was safer to be seen to have voted for the sailboat than to openly support the gu tau tong (literal Hokkien translation – ‘bull head party’).

‘Who you vote for? Shhh, it’s a secret. Cannot tell lah!’ The same question may be asked on March 8. Same answer.

While free rides on lorries and mini-vans will be out of place on March 8, the rakyat ’s fear of openly demonstrating their support for the opposition – especially among civil servants and the older generation – will be as real as it was in 1968.

Bad moon rising

The Umno-dominated front will certainly be the same one we’ve lived with since the Alliance transformed into the Barisan Nasional. Which makes me wonder if limiting the terms of government can change the way incumbent politicians make laws that impact on our lives.

What if the game rule stipulates that no ministers should remain in their position for more than two five-year terms? We’d certainly see two-thirds of the seat-warmers in parliament pack up and leave. Incidentally, Abdul Razak was PM for five years in1971; and Hussein Onn from 1976-81.

World politics have shown that the potential for democratically-elected prime ministers or presidents to become dictators – or ‘benevolent’ dictators according to Mahathir’s and Kuan Yew’s interpretation - is greater in governments of unlimited terms.

In our system where the prime minister and his cabinet sycophants can serve as long as they have the confidence of parliament, where both houses are controlled by the ruling party, is a clear case of a closed political class perpetuating the power status quo.

‘Term limits’ certainly look like a very attractive option to bring about ‘a fresh change and new directions’ in Malaysia. To our career politicians, many of whom were yesterday’s party lackeys turned orang kaya , ‘term limits’ is not an option - not in a system where politicians reap greater pecuniary rewards from patronage than in avowedly serving their constituents.

So, ‘why bother voting?’as my Aussie friend often wonders. Well, that’s Australia. In our Malaysian-style ‘democracy’, a single vote can make a difference although many in the older generation are resigned to the reality that a fresh change is as unlikely as a bad moon rising on every 15th night in the Chinese lunar calendar.

We’ll just have to wait and hope that the many ratty politicians will see the end of their terms this coming week. Selamat mengundi .