Updated Ahmad Zahid Hamid washed his hands off Politics the art of distraction

POLITICS ARE ALWAYS RIGGED IT TAKES FOOLISH BRAIN DAMAGED VOTER TO BRING BACK A FOOLHARDY RULING PARTY FROM BRAIN DEATH.ONLY TWO LETTERS SEPARATE USE FROM ABUSE, WE DO NOT EXPECT A HIGH LEVEL OF HONESTY FROM Home Minister Ahmad Zahid HamidiHOME MINISTER’S MISSTEP: GIVING AURA HYPOCRISY SIDE STEPPING THE AURA OF AUTHENTICITY

How many of us can honestly say that  Home Minister Ahmad Zahid Hamidi ALWAYS honest, come what may? Not one! Ouch, that hurts, eh? But it’s the truth, whether we admit it or not—sorry, guys.has washed his hands off today’s arrests of two opposition leaders and a pro-democracy activist by police.When we try to teach our children that honesty is the best policy, we try to sound convincing but conveniently omit to mention that honesty is more circumstantial than intrinsic, because we know that life will soon teach them that. In fact, they will soon find out that choosing to walk the straight and narrow path will often be a painful decision…And then, guess what, even the common perception of honesty is undergoing a paradigm shift. it will be lawless within now till the next GE….as long as Home Minister Ahmad Zahid Hamidi  commit crimes under the name of Home Minister will get away with it.The USA and the whole world may recognise the Malaysian Umno-BN govt but I do not recognise it. Right is right and wrong is wrong. Even if the whole world recognises the illegitimate Umno-BN govt, that doesn’t make it right, because wrong is still wrong, no matter what, who, or all recognise it. We know how Umno-BN wins – through gerrymandering and fraud, through intimidation and bribes, through playing the racial and religious card, etc. No way is this an illegitimate govt. Despite all its fraud it still lost the majority vote. It has no moral right to rule. Wrong is wrong and the Umno-BN govt is there by fraudalent means. Everybody knows this. This is the truth even if the Umno-BN, police, etc, want to deny it. in the crackdown, no eyes . . . to see the corruption, and no ears . . . to hear Ibrahim Ali, Zuklifee Nordin.Before GE 13 , the stupid man say that PR leader involve the Military invasion of Sulu armed force. Tell in the news paper with his minister of Defense’s identity, say that he has very strong evidence to arrest few opposition leaders after GE. Does he forgot ?Fine, if you have no hand in the arrests, order them to be released immediately and apologize!!he PDRM are working people and they will not act in such a manner without instructions from above. Zahid can never wash his hands off and in fact he had issued the warning two days ago, that there would be no further warning. It looks like Najib’s reign of ‘mahathirism’ has now started, using thugs and police on the rakyat. The burden looks heavy and undemocratic on the shoulders of Zahid, the IGP and the CPOs. it seems the art of politics is simply the art of distraction. Sadly the issues around which our politicians and media get most excited are those, which almost never have any bearing on the very real issues

APA DOSA AMIR BAZLI ABDULLAH?

“THIS” is our NEW “HOME MINISTER” who is a GANGSTER and BEATS-UP people by himself!

”. Given the fractured nature of the debate, there are no black and white rules and answers can at best be politically correct. So it remains up to us to either choose to be honest or raise/lower our morality bars according to whatever situation we find ourselves in—not a very comforting thought, isn’t it?

Actually, honesty for the sake of honesty alone is very therapeutic and has a feel-good quality about it. Normally we tread the honest path because we have been trained to do so by our parents and teachers; but whenever a dilemma arises and we choose the honest path not out of compulsion but because it is right, it does make us happy with the knowledge of not having strayed. And that feeling of satisfaction is much more precious than any benefits we may have gained from being dishonest—and these little joys are the small collectibles of life, the things that matter, the things that endure. So, in the ultimate analysis, honesty does pay, eh?

SEE VIDEO ON YOUTUBE HERE: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yi0SW5hxhok

The Malaysian government has pulled out all the stops to prevent an opposition rally this weekend. This week, army units conducted crowd control exercises with banners that said, “Disperse or we will shoot!” The police set up roadblocks and arrested Malaysians simply for wearing yellow T-shirts, the signature color of Bersih, a coalition of 62 nongovernmental organizations that demands changes in Malaysia’s electoral system. To date, the police have arrested over 250 supporters of Bersih, claiming that they are “waging war against the king.”

Then something unprecedented happened. Malaysia’s King Tuanku Mizan Zainal Abidin, allegedly the target of Bersih’s campaign, intervened. He called on both Prime Minister Najib Razak and Bersih to resolve their differences in a spirit of harmony and cooperation, for the good of the nation.

There was a collective sigh of relief in Malaysia. The leader of Bersih, Ambiga Sreenevasan, an attorney and former president of the Malaysian Bar Council, met with the king and announced that the “Walk for Democracy,” as it was called, was cancelled. She said that she was ready to meet with the government to discuss Bersih’s concerns about electoral fairness. Prime Minister Najib then offered an olive branch, saying, “We are willing to provide a stadium for them to rally in … from morning until night,” an offer that Ms. Ambiga and Bersih immediately accepted.

Then Mr. Najib backed off. His government says that because Bersih is still illegal, it cannot apply for a permit. It also has banned Bersih’s leadership from entering Kuala Lumpur on the day of the rally. On Thursday, he joined a gathering of martial artists who said that their 50,000 members will “wage war” against Bersih. Donning their militant uniform, Mr. Najib said, “If there are evil enemies who want to attack the country from within, you, my brothers, will rise to fight them.”

UMNO is afraid of Bersih

Mr. Najib has undermined the authority of the king, who gave Bersih and its concerns credence by meeting with its leadership and calling for a negotiated solution. The political situation in Malaysia is a fast-moving target, and each day brings new developments. Ms. Ambiga and Bersih now say that because of Mr. Najib’s actions, they will go ahead with their assembly, no matter what.

Nobody knows what will happen tomorrow. Bersih’s main issue is not freedom of assembly but the fairness of Malaysia’s democratic process. Bersih’s backers ask how anyone can be opposed to free and fair elections.

It’s an easy question to answer. The United Malays National Organization, of which Mr. Najib is president, is the longest continuing ruling party in the world, and it is running scared.

In the last general election in 2008, Malaysia’s opposition took 47% of the popular vote. That year Parti Keadilan Rakyat, the party of Mr. Najib’s nemesis Anwar Ibrahim, went from one seat to 31. The establishment parties in Malaysia’s neighboring states are also in retreat. The opposition scored a major victory in Thailand last weekend, and in Singapore opposition candidates made surprising gains. No wonder Mr. Najib and company are worried.

Many observers of Malaysian politics believe that electoral reform will lead to the ruling party’s defeat, and that is why UMNO is afraid of Bersih. In the last election in 2008, the party received only one-third of the nation’s votes. UMNO rules only because of its coalition with other political parties, which it increasingly marginalizes, that represent the Chinese and Indian minorities.

Display your courage, Mr. Najib

Mr. Najib and his allies say that the opposition’s gains in 2008 prove that Malaysia’s elections are free and fair. Impartial observers disagree. Academic studies have enumerated how the Election Commission gerrymanders electoral districts to benefit the ruling party. The U.S. Department of State’s human rights report bluntly states that opposition parties are unable to compete on equal terms with the governing coalition because of restrictions on campaigning and freedom of assembly and association. “News of the opposition,” the U.S. says, is “tightly restricted and reported in a biased fashion.”

In the recent state elections in Sarawak, the government announced $390 million in local projects during the run-up to the polls. Prime Minister Najib was caught on video tape telling one village gathering that the government would give them 5 million ringgit ($1.5 million) for a local project on Monday, but only if they elected his candidate on Sunday.

Who would win elections in Malaysia that truly are free and fair? The U.S. State Department reports that despite the many election irregularities during the 2008 elections, “most observers concluded they did not substantially alter the results.” But unless the electoral reforms that Bersih is calling for are made, we will never know.

Despite the government’s intimidation, thousands of Malaysian citizens of all races and religions are expected to exercise their constitutional right to assemble and call for free and fair elections. Tomorrow’s protest represents a brave step in what not just Malaysians but also the international community should hope will begin the country’s transition to full democracy. Mr. Najib should display his own courage and ensure that a peaceful rally that seeks the fundamental rights of democratic peoples everywhere does not turn into a bloody confrontation.

 

When Artscape went to Cairo to film the story of Abeer Soliman, a storyteller who recasts the classic tales of One Thousand and One Nights to reflect modern-day Egypt, a revolution was sweeping across the country. Here producer Shameela Seedat writes about filming in a city undergoing a historical transformation.

One of my first assignments on this production was to look for any signs of physical change that separated pre- and post-revolution Egypt. The director wanted to capture these visually.

On our second day in Cairo, while walking along the Nile to the heavily guarded Television Headquarters to get our filming permit, we stumbled upon what is perhaps the most striking physical embodiment of a “break from the past”.

The enormous, multi-storey building, previously the headquarters of Hosni Mubarak’s National Democratic Party, dominated the river landscape with its blackened, scorched façade. It had been set on fire during the revolution, burning for three days.

In pictures: Signs of change in Egypt

Across the road, along the banks of the Nile, we witnessed merry scenes of young people; talking, playing and laughing – and it was difficult at that particular moment not to associate these images with the thrill and optimism which accompanies a country’s new-found freedom.

We were, of course, curious to discover what change really meant for Egyptians – beyond obvious signs and symbols, and what was now expected as the country charts a new course for itself. As we delved further into our production, exploring the views and predicaments not only of our main character but also of other artists and performers we encountered along the way, the picture became both more complex and uplifting.

Many people puffed with pride and enthusiasm over the peaceful toppling of the regime in February, and spoke passionately about what it means to be Egyptian today. However, there was great anxiety about the worsening economic situation and the uncertain political future.

Difficult issues remain. Economic improvements, effective political party competition and justice for crimes committed by the Mubarak regime, are seen as critical themes for a post-revolution Egypt. The future role of the army, the role of religion in politics and the recurrence of the old regime in new guises were also questions that attracted passionate debate in both everyday conversation and local newspapers.

It was evident from our stay in Egypt that people have strong views and are committed to playing their part in the reconfiguration of their country. As one actor at Beit El Sehmy put it: “We are free now, we have choices. That is the most important thing. It does not mean that we all agree. But it is better than anything we had before because freedom means that, now, one person can say something, and another person can say ‘no, it is better to do it this way’.”We were also extremely inspired by various tales highlighting the place of art, music and performance in the January revolution, and in this current period of flux. An actor, who we interviewed, described how humbling it was to see protestors at Tahrir Square using various artistic forms to express themselves; to keep spirits up and to build unity – in a manner that appeared effortless.

In our last week of filming, we were, however, caught up in an unfortunate incident. While filming an artists’ gathering at Tahrir Square on Labour Day, a few ‘thugs’ shut down a scheduled performance of music and theatre, heckled the minister of culture and forcibly prevented our director from using his camera. These ‘thugs’ argued that art and performance constituted an affront to the memories of martyrs who had died in the revolution. Yet one of the artists involved in the fray – a prominent theatre director who has worked tirelessly in independent theatre for the last 30 years, remarked that while he was disturbed by these “troublemakers”, he would never be deterred by them, and would continue to do exactly what he has been doing for the last 30 years, which is to wake up each morning and make political art with added vigour.

Having returned to South Africa after an extraordinary experience, my most enduring memory is that of an encounter between our 32-year-old local production assistant – who did not miss a day of protest at Tahrir Square - and a uniformed policeman as we were filming a scene in a quiet part of the city. The policeman, who was on duty nearby, loudly remarked that it was fine for us to film that particular scene and we should thus carry on with our work for as long as we wanted. Our production assistant, justifiably fed up with police control for all his life under the Mubarak regime, turned to him defiantly, and replied: “There is no need for you tell us that we can film here. We know that we can – because it is our revolution; it is our country now - it is not yours.”

Six days in Iraq and not one Humvee, tank, fighter jet, military escort, or intelligence report. Not one minute inside the Green Zone or between the miles-long walls of American military bases. Hosted by my friend and colleague, Sami Rasouli, I live in Najaf, a city two hours south of Baghdad. At the invitation of Sami, I came here to live and work with the Muslim Peacemaker Teams (MPT), a group of Iraqi peacemakers.

Sami and I know each other through our jobs at partner non-profit organizations — Sami at MPT and I at the Iraqi and American Reconciliation Project (IARP). The two organizations are based in the Sister Cities of Minneapolis, USA and Najaf, Iraq. They work together to rebuild peaceful relationships between Americans and Iraqis and support nonviolence in both countries.

Since its founding in 2004, MPT has accomplished a lot. It has provided clean water to more than 27,000 Iraqi students and promoted national unity through friendly soccer matches across Iraq. It held community roundtable meetings to discuss the new constitution in 2005 and helped stem the spread of cholera in 2007 through hygiene education. Recently, MPT began hosting Americans to live and work in Iraq as an alternative model of peaceful coexistence. This project is small compared to the scope of the American war on Iraq, but it is dissent against the hegemonic discourse of war. It is an affirmation that we are still brothers and sisters and that war does not have the final say.

My visit to Iraq is very different from the “visit” of most Americans. I came to Iraq motivated by the principles of MPT and IARP, an unarmed guest seeking to build respectful relationships between people. My American counterparts in military uniforms, while perhaps motivated by misinformed ideals of protecting their country, came to Iraq armed to the teeth, seeking to storm the country into submission.

On my first day in Iraq, I met no sergeants or lieutenants. I met a nuclear physicist, a director of tourism development, a professor of geography, an Internet cafe owner, 25 English-language students (among them engineers, a geologist, teachers and college students) and my host family — Sami, his wife, Suaad, and their two sons, Redha and Omar. All welcomed me with big smiles. None were like the Iraqis on American TV.

On my third day, Sami and I walked along the busy streets of the old city. We visited the alleys where Sami grew up and met a number of his cousins still living in the area. We wandered near the home of Grand Ayatollah al-Sistani, the highest-ranking Shiite leader in Iraq, then visited the nearby Shrine of Imam Ali. We met with the son of Sheikh Abbas, an open-minded religious leader interested in interfaith dialogue with counterparts in Minneapolis. Later we ate on crowded benches at Abu Hayder, a small restaurant with five options for lunch. We carried no weapons and felt no danger.

Though I have never been inside an American military base, I imagine a day in the life of a soldier stationed there to be quite different. Between walls of Humvees and military equipment, with all kinds of power and armament, I imagine American soldiers feel less secure than I did walking around the streets of Najaf. I imagine a big screen TV streaming CNN, a basketball court, a cafeteria, a solitary room and imported items to remind the soldier of home. He is isolated from the people of Iraq, an occupier.

Sami has introduced me to many new friends during my first week in Iraq. The 25 English-language students that I help teach are eager to host Sami and me at their homes. Some of the students are similar to my friends in Minneapolis. Both Hayder in Najaf and my roommate in Minneapolis are pharmacists who complain about their customers. Sami’s family is also becoming good friends. Sami’s wife, Suaad, and niece Nahla laughed when I said I was going to ask my girlfriend in Minneapolis to make the Iraqi dish they made. Three-year-old Omar started using me as a jungle gym after I gave him a Clif Bar.

Friendship breaks down stereotypes and borders. But rather than making friends, my counterparts in the American military have made enemies. Rather than eating freshly prepared meals in Iraqi homes and getting to know Iraqis, they eat frozen, imported Kuwaiti food in cafeterias behind high walls. They remain imprisoned by stereotypes and misinformation.

Peacemaking is a sacred activity. By hosting me, an American, MPT members and friends affirm that we are brothers and sisters. Both MPT and IARP believe that we share a common humanity that goes beyond war and politics. Our activities are rooted in salaam, or peace, just as the word Islam shares a root with the word salaam. After the death and destruction in Iraq caused by Americans — Americans still here, hiding behind walls — Sami and MPT welcomed me here in peace. That is reconciliation that cannot be found with any amount of high-tech military equipment.

Sami Rasouli is the Founder and Director of the Muslim Peacemaker Teams in Iraq. He has also hosted Liz Wieling, an American professor of mental health at the University of Minnesota; Rose Aslan, a Ph.D. student at the University of North Carolina; and many others. He lives in Najaf with his wife, Suaad, and two children.