The tragicomedy of Najib’s return

Throughout Najib Abdul Razak’s tenure as prime minister, I have never thought of him as a funny man. Expensive clothes pressed by tailors, play-safe speeches prepared by speechwriters and awkward body language that missed the choreograph were what I remembered of him. I have also not come across anyone close to Najib who has described him as “funny” or “humorous”.

But “funny” is now his primary online personality.

If you go to Najib’s Facebook today, you will know what I mean. In five of the recent posts with approximately 15,000 to 18,000 likes each, the “laughing” emoji takes up almost 3,000 to 4,000. That means 25 percent of the time, people were laughing at his posts.

Najib’s posts played into this. To reply to DAP chairperson Lim Guan Eng’s criticism of toll charges in Penang, Najib used casual language like “Eh”, “kantoi” (caught red-handed), “kat” (there) and sarcasm. He even ended his post by asking Lim when he would be visiting Pekan (Najib’s constituency) next so he could “belanja karipap dua biji” (I’ll buy you two curry puffs).

In another post, he just reposted a Lee Kim Yew news report with the words “Haha” and then “Okay.”

This is part of the Malu Apa Bossku transformation. When he was prime minister, you’d never see him on a motorcycle. Now he’s willing to squeeze into casual polo tees, fist-bump with commoners, and give speeches in a humid, congested hawker stall.

But it still begs one question: Where is the ‘Funny Najib’ we see online?

The fiction of Funny Najib

He still struggles to give speeches that are unscripted and engaging. He still needs his entourage to tell him what to do and where to go. He still runs away from his parliamentary speeches and stays silent as a mouse.

More and more people have grown suspicious of this contrast and started thinking that maybe Funny Najib was a manufactured persona that only exists online. There were more reasons to start believing this.

Earlier this month, a spokesperson from Karv Communications revealed that Najib paid them RM600,000 for two months’ work. The job scope? Represent Najib in the US media. This is not uncommon.

In 2019, a witness from Orb Solutions revealed to the court that Najib paid them RM2 million for social media work from 2008. It was meant to shape Najib’s image and communicate with the voters “in a less formal manner”.

The witness later said that the Malu Apa Bossku campaign might be inspired by their discussions on Google Hangouts. Najib even had his own app, developed by Resonate Digital in 2016, to shore up his public image.

Funny Najib may not actually exist in real life.

Why does this matter? Because the only way to win the war is to know your opponent.

The opposition is now demoralised because they think everyone has returned to BN, and Najib’s support is growing by the day. But that narrative is grounded in fiction. The anti-Najib silent majority, on the other hand, is factual.

BN support levels have not increased substantially. Anti-BN popular votes are in the majority. Most people, regardless of race, gender, occupation and income, agreed with Najib’s guilty verdict. The negative perception of Najib is still high.

But it was because of this silence by the anti-Najib faction that helped fuel his online popularity, and it was the perception of Najib’s growing support that turned the anti-Najib silent.

We used to flood Najib’s Facebook posts with angry emojis, but now that we’ve gone silent, his hardcore audience is laughing with a fictional comic. Without the opposition engaging with voters, Najib was the only one filling the void.

The time he came to Penang

After his visit to the World Chinese Economic Forum, Foon Yew High School, Perling, and the Johor Chingay parade, Najib turned up at the Penang International Business and Investment Summit earlier this month to continue his Chinese tour.

Everyone was expecting the same cycle. Opportunistic Chinese buying into Najib’s fiction, welcoming him with lion dances and overamplified music, shouting “Bossku” and how they missed his tenure, and the Chinese readers online showing their disbelief at how low the community has stooped.

But this time there was something different. Eight youths held a banner outside the Insa Dunia Food Court, where Najib was scheduled to arrive, that said “Bossku national embarrassment”.

This was the first time there was a protest at a Bossku event. They told the media that they do not support the “lack of political morality”.

Then three men with Bossku t-shirts went to warn the eight youths, trying to tear off the banner and shouted in their faces to leave. The youths started to lose ground, with their banners now thrown to the ground. The meekly, gentle protesters were no match for the three burly men.

The crowd, who was waiting for Najib’s arrival, started standing around the scuffle, and it made you think that for a moment, the youths may be beaten up.

The protest was short-lived. The youths left, and 20 minutes later, Najib arrived to a congested crowd that greeted and trailed him. That moment convinced you that people who adore Najib were the majority and you, who denounced the largest kleptocracy in the world, were the minority. Najib’s fiction started to look like reality.

But I want you to remember one moment from that event. When the youths were chased out by the three burly men, they still gathered in front of the media and chanted their protest before they left.

They lifted their fists to the air and shouted: “Tolak Najib” (Reject Najib), “Tolak Pencuri” (Reject thieves). Their voices cracked in fear, their faces visibly shaken by what happened.

Funny Najib will continue to laugh from afar, as long as the silent majority stays silent. A cracked voice, a shaky tone, is better than absolute silence. - Mkini

JAMES CHAI is a political analyst. He also blogs at www.jameschai.com.my and he can be reached at jameschai.mpuk@gmail.com.

The views expressed here are those of the author/contributor and do not necessarily represent the views of MMKtT