COMMENT | Former premier Muhyiddin Yassin's justification for his bogus emergency is the kind of autocratic play that weak leaders all over the world attempt to remain in power.

Now safely ensconced in the warm belly of the political beast, architects of the Sheraton Move continue to ponder further moves in this never-ending charade of a democracy.

Commander Thaya on the right with Admiral Thana (Left)

So badly did the former prime minister want an “emergency”, it would have been comical observing the antics of the mainstream political establishment if the rakyat were not suffering from the political and social effects of this pandemic.

Leading up to the “emergency”, the Perikatan Nasional (PN) government attempted to soothe the frayed nerves of the public by claiming that this was not really an emergency but rather something else that was like but not really an emergency.

Malaysiakini columnist Syahredzan Johan astutely pointed out that even the royal institution was concerned about the possible abuse of political power in the first attempt at an emergency:

“The word 'membatasi' was the only one to be highlighted in red in the statement. The other words were printed in black. This statement is significant as it suggests that the rulers were of the view that there could be elements of abuse of power in an emergency, and that the Agong's role is to ensure that executive powers are not abused.”

The fact that the prime minister and his loyalists were trying to spin this as something more palatable, indicates they were afraid of the consequences of a “genuine” emergency and that they wanted the trappings of an emergency – the subordination of political and judicial oversight – in the hopes of maintaining power.

What the prime minister did not understand, or maybe he just did not care, is that a half-past-six emergency will not grant him the kind of power he needs.

Indeed, what it did was embolden his political adversaries because they believed he did not have the guts to truly wreck the system, which is what a genuine emergency would do.

When the “emergency” finally arrived, it was not the end of democracy in Malaysia but rather just another reminder of how this country was fumbling down the path of illegitimacy because the political elites had no real desire to come together for the benefit of the country.

I despise it when political operatives use war analogies in an attempt to impart the direness of a situation, and they do this because being at war means issues like rule of law and civil liberties are suspended.

The fact that rule of law and civil liberties are murky concepts in this country in the first place means that attempts to dismantle what little we have should be viewed as an egregious offence.

But as always, political operatives get a free ride and the rakyat have no choice but to put up with it.

The emergency played out like just another power struggle between the ruling political classes. The MCO (movement control order) for certain states had more of an impact than the emergency declaration had.

Normalising military presence

Even with military boots on the streets, the rakyat was desensitised because, during the first MCO, the military was involved. Not only were they involved, but also for the most part, they carried out their duties professionally and the curve was flattened.

Things went back to normal until the political class decided to play their games and we were back to square one.

Moreover, here is the important bit, military presence in heavily populated areas should be avoided at all costs.

If there is a need for the military to be involved – and there are always legitimate reasons why this is so – then the rakyat should be comforted by their presence and the work they do and not be fearful. In this country, the spectre of the emergency is linked to memories of racial riots.

Over the decades and especially with the younger generation, “emergency” is a hazy historical anecdote that means very little. All the former prime minister did with this emergency was to normalise a military presence when none was needed.

Indeed, the pathetic response from the political apparatus which necessitated the military taking matters into their own hands during the recent floods further breaks down the chain of command not to mention the separation between the armed forces and civilian rule.

The reality is that the emergency made the former prime minister look weak. Not only did it make him look weak, but it also is further evidence that a fractured Malay uber alles government is an unstable proposition, and any time political operatives make pacts with traitors, the result is a weakening of the Malay political establishment.

When Umno, which had a pedigree of autocratic rule, distanced itself from such a gambit; you knew that the former prime minister was scraping the bottom of the political barrel.

What exactly did PN hope to achieve with the emergency rule? Who knows? Even if it was to buy time and shore up resources, it did the exact opposite.

Reading former attorney-general Tommy Thomas' review of that recent Najib Abdul Razak book (‘Final Reckoning: An Insider’s View of the Fall of Malaysia's Barisan Nasional Government’ by Romen Bose), what we discover is that the state security apparatus – if the author is to be believed – had too close a relationship with the political apparatus in the sense that they were actually attempting to shape a “reasonable” political outcome.

Keep in mind that Muhyiddin did not have the numbers to back him up. Supposing, he did. Then what would have happened?

As the “our boy” conversation demonstrates, the political apparatus wants to have someone that would look after their interests in the state security apparatus and not an independent organism that derails plans.