In Turbulent Malaysia, Satirists Push the Limits 
International Herald Tribune
May 19, 1999
Thomas Fuller

A playbill sold at a political satire shown recently in Kuala Lumpur advised members of the audience what to do if they were arrested.

"Just say your name, I/C number and address," the program said, referring to the identification card that Malaysians are required to carry at all times. "You don't have to say anything else. The police can't make you talk."

If giving such advice to a Volvo-driving, middle-class audience seems unusual, so was the show itself, an adaptation of the Italian counterculture classic, "Accidental Death of an Anarchist," by Dario Fo.

The theater company tweaked the script, filling it with ridicule for the police force, judicial system and government. Subtlety was spared in satirizing Mahathir bin Mohamad, Malaysia's prime minister since 1981. Toward the end of the play, a portrait of Mahathir hanging on stage, similar to those in shops and government offices around the country, was pulled down, and the words gil a penipu, "crazy swindler," were scrawled across it.

Political dissent has always been a tricky business in Malaysia, sometimes resulting in arrest and prison terms. But that has not stopped a long list of actors, musicians and writers from pushing what have long been considered the limits of tolerated artistic dissent. Their satire is raw and biting — and reaching a mainstream audience.

Denied space in the closely monitored mainstream media, writers fill Web sites with parodies of politicians. In pubs and nightclubs musicians change the lyrics of rock and roll classics to poke fun at Mahathir and members of his cabinet. But topping the list of this new wave of political satire is a book entitled "Shit."

Written by an award-winning Malaysian novelist, the story takes place inside a large intestine and uses scatological satire to criticize the prime minister.

Unusual as this novel may sound — and it is clearly unusual by the standards of this nation's artistic and literary community — it is on its way to becoming the country's best-selling novel ever.

With 100,000 copies in print and an English translation on the way, the book testifies to the bizarre state of affairs in Malaysia, a Muslim country where it would normally be unusual to see the word "shit" or "sodomy" in print.

"If politics is foul and can foul other things, then I as a writer will present the foulness and elements that are fouling other things, in my own way," Shahnon Ahmad, the author, writes in the foreword.

What sets Shahnon apart from other satirists here are his credentials as a leading member of the Malaysian literary establishment. He also holds the honorary title of Dato, roughly the equivalent of a British knighthood.

Many of his 29 previous books have been used in schools as part of the literature curriculum. As he is a national laureate, the government is supposed to print all of his works, but that seems unlikely to happen with this book. Government officials and members of Mahathir's governing coalition have condemned the book, some of them calling for a ban.

"We have to examine the content to see if it does contain derogatory remarks, insults and obscenities that are offensive to any particular person or group of people," Ong Ka Ting, the deputy home minister, was quoted by a local newspaper as saying recently. "We do not encourage people to take advantage of the flexible rules and produce materials that contain negative elements." Outside government, some Malaysians say they admire the novel for its boldness.

"I've never seen anything like this book," said Rehman Rashid, author of a 1993 best-seller, "A Malaysian Journey."

Reached by telephone at his home in Penang, northern Malaysia, Shahnon is polite to the point of being apologetic as he explains why he wrote the book. The novel's vulgarity and liberal use of swear words, he says, are a mirror image of Malaysian politics today.

"There's something abnormal happening in Malaysian politics," he says, adding: "The inspiration for the book is basically from the Anwar case, from injustices, from people crazy for power, crazy for wealth."

If the satirists have one thing in common it is the anger they feel toward the government over the dismissal and beating of Anwar Ibrahim, the former deputy prime minister. He was subsequently charged with corruption and sodomy. Artists say they do not necessarily support Anwar, but they are angry about how he has been treated and the way they believe the system has been manipulated.

"I was quiet for a long time, but when this thing came up, it lit a fire under me and I started writing and performing again," says Rafique Rashid, a musician who has written several songs satirizing the government.

One of the songs, "Ignorance Is Bliss," deals with the Internal Security Act, ISA, which allows indefinite detention without trial. The authorities used the law to detain Anwar. The song's final stanza: - But of all the laws that we possess There's one that stands out from the rest. It does away with due process. ''Efficient? Yeah, you bet!'' If Jesus were alive today, They'd put him under the ISA And throw him in Kamunting saying, ''Yes, he was a threat!'' - Jo Kukathas, director of ''Accidental Death of an Anarchist,'' says her work has been sharper since the Anwar ordeal began. ''As those in power grow more unacceptable, we have to grow more unacceptable as well. ''The satire cuts deeper because the reality is so weird.'' Who needs satire, artists say, when you have the real-life script that Malaysian politics has followed over the past nine months. The day after Anwar was fired in September, the word ''sodomy'' burst on to the front pages of normally staid local newspapers, replacing the glowing reporting Anwar had enjoyed while he was deputy prime minister. Two weeks later, he was detained, handcuffed and blindfolded, and then beaten by the chief of police. But the satirists say their work is not just about Anwar and Mahathir. The country is in transition, moving away from the patriarchal system of government that it has followed since independence in 1957. ''I just don't think the government gives the Malaysian public enough credit for being able to think,'' Kukathas says. ''It angers me when the government forgets that they answer to the people.''

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