Only 140,000 members can vote
Over the weekend, Home Minister and Umno vice president Hishammuddin Hussein had announced the party would hold "mock" elections or practise runs in March to prepare for the new system of party polls scheduled to be held next year.
Hisham, who is also Najib's cousin, had said the dry runs were necessary because the internal election process would involve some 140,000 delegates compared to only 2,700 previously.
Umno has more than 3 million members but only opened up voting to more delegates last year in a bid to reduce money politics.
However, it is still lagging far behind PKR, which is the first political party in Southeast Asia to hold direct elections where all the top national leaders were chosen by the grassroots.
Yet, in an apparent jibe at PKR, Hisham had told reporters on Sunday, "we also want as many eligible voters to take part unlike in PKR where only 10% of the members actually voted, although it claims to have thousands of members. And there were tables and chairs flying during the elections".
Another wayang kulit by the Umno elite
His comments provided immediate fodder for his political rivals to attack him with.
"Umno should not be afraid to learn from PKR. It should hold direct elections like PKR where it is one-man one-vote. In their system, it is still a two-tier as not everyone is voting," said Nik Nazmi ,who is also the state assemblyman for Seri Setia.
"Only with one-member one-vote can it be regarded as fully democratic. Umno is just instituting this change as an attempt to show to the grassroots that democracy is thriving within itself so as not to lose out to PKR, which has pioneered of democratic party polls."
The PKR leaders also warned Umno the whole country was watching to see how efficiently it could run its polls. During the PKR elections, the mainstream media had rush to attack even the smallest mistake and mishap.
"As they say, what goes around comes around. Let see how competent Tengku Adnan (Umno sec-gen) in getting the process to run smoothly. Imagine, if they cannot even get their party elections right, how can they run the country," said Nik Nazmi.
"Frankly, at the end of the day, Umno is only putting on a facade. It is still the same old Umno, full of excuses. In order to be truly democratic the party polls should be one man one vote. Period."
The Malaysian government is planning to tighten media regulations. And that's unnerving many in the country.
The government will put limits on the internet, raising concerns of a crackdown on free speech.
Al Jazeera's Stephanie Scawen reports from the capital Kuala Lumpur.
nformation is power and in the age of the information revolution, cyber and satellite communication is transforming our lives, reinventing the relationship between people and power.
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Websites are now being treated like hostile territories; whistleblowers and leakers as terrorists, and hackers as insurgents.
Governments are scrambling to salvage their influence and take advantage of the new cyber and satellite media. From China to the Sudan, Egypt to Iran, despots and armies are tracking web activity and setting up Facebook accounts to spy on their citizens.
So is this the century of free information and expression as the cyber utopians predicted, or new methods of electronic oppression as the cyber sceptics warned?
Joining Marwan Bishara to discuss these issues are: Carl Bernstein, a Pulitzer Prize-winning investigative journalist; Amy Goodman, the host and executive producer ofDemocracy Now!; Professor Emily Bell, the director of digital journalism at Columbia University; Evgeny Morozov, the author of The Net Delusion: The Dark Side of Internet Freedom; Professor Clay Shirky, the author of Cognitive Surplus: Creativity and Generosity in a Connected Age.
Our interviewees are: Daniel Ellsberg, the Pentagon Papers whistleblower; Charlie Beckett, the director of Polis at London School of Economics; Jeremy Goldkorn, the founder of Danwei.org, and Pink Ke, the co-founder ofantiwave.net.
Each of you has several things in common.
For starters, you are the leaders of your respective countries -- Venezuela, Turkey, Bolivia, and Nicaragua.
Moreover, each of you, in many speeches, has talked about the centrality of justice.
President Chavez, you've spoken of your quest "to bring about a state that is social, democratic, and just."
Prime Minister Erdogan, you have said that "peace, justice, brotherhood, and solidarity were in the best interests of every country."
President Morales, you stress that you seek "equality and justice."
President Ortega, you describe yourself as a fighter "for a just and free world."
Third, each of you has been a recipient of the Muammar Al-Gaddafi International Prize for Human Rights.
According to the website, the prize was established in 1988 to honor those who have "achieved great actions in defending human rights, protecting the cause of freedom, and supporting peace everywhere in the world."
President Chavez, you were in Tripoli in 2004 to receive the prize. Subsequently, you hosted Gaddafi in Caracas, comparing him to Simon Bolivar and conferring on him your country's highest civilian decoration. At the time, you declared: "We share the same destiny, the same battle in the same trench against a common enemy, and we will conquer."
Prime Minister Erdogan, you were in Tripoli last year for the award ceremony, at which time you said: "You can be sure that this award will encourage our struggle for human rights in a regional and global sense."
President Morales, you proudly traveled to Tripoli in 2000 to get the prize.
And President Ortega, it was your turn in 2009, and you did not hesitate to accept it.
Finally, notwithstanding your stated commitment to justice, your postures in recent days, as Gaddafi unleashed the state's deadly power against those protesting his 41-year authoritarian reign, could not be more striking.
Surely, the right thing to do at this moment, first and foremost, is to renounce the Gaddafi prize, not to mention the cash award that accompanied it. Why not donate the funds, not back into the coffers of Gaddafi, but to relief efforts on behalf of the victims of his brutality?
Why would anyone claiming to battle for justice wish to be associated with a mass murderer? How cruel a joke in the first place to associate Gaddafi with human rights and possess an award that links the two?
Yet, not only have you not relinquished the prize, but it gets still worse.
President Chavez, you and your foreign minister proclaimed on February 25th, with hundreds, if not more, slaughtered, leaving rivers of blood flowing through the streets of Libyan cities, "Viva Libya and viva Gaddafi."
Prime Minister Erdogan, where is your outrage and fury at what is taking place before the world's eyes? Is it only when Israel is deemed to be involved that you show a capacity for unbridled anger?
President Morales, the silence from La Paz is deafening. Why? Where is your voice in support of the "justice" you proclaim as your guiding light?
And President Ortega, no doubt Gaddafi valued your phone call this week to express yoursolidarity, emphasizing, in your own words, that "it's at difficult times that loyalty and resolve are put to the test."
Actually, it's at such times that leaders reveal themselves. And the four of you have revealed yourselves for all to see.
You accepted a ludicrously named prize from a murderous scoundrel. In doing so, you conferred undeserved legitimacy on Gaddafi's rule. After all, it most assuredly didn't take until 2011 to understand the true nature of Gaddafi and the ruthless nature of his regime.
When you had the chance this month to show the world that you learned your lesson, however belatedly, by returning the award, you did not, even as the reports from the ground compellingly described a bloodbath for which Gaddafi and his henchmen are responsible. Does the award really mean that much to you as a source of validation, gratification, and inspiration?
And given the chance to condemn resoundingly the denial of justice, the repression of human rights, and the negation of brotherhood in Gaddafi's Libya, you couldn't bring yourselves to do so. So much for the high-minded values you preach.
How tragic! And yes, how telling!
In setting himself ablaze following a humiliating encounter with the police, the university-educated Tunisian vegetable seller Mohamed Bouazizi triggered a wave of protests across the Arab world.
Several dictators who had held power for decades have already been ousted or forced to announce that they will retire.
But protesters in Cairo, Tunis, and Sana want much more. They also seek efficientgovernance, economic reforms to stimulate growth, the ouster of collaborators, democratic rights, freedom of religion (and perhaps also from religion) – in short, a comprehensive social transformation.
Everywhere, incumbent regimes have mounted resistance. The unforgettable scene of camel-and horse-riding Mubarak supporters beating tech-savvy Egyptianprotesters signals that the old order will not yield without a fight.
The revolts themselves caught seasoned observers off guard. Had the United States known what lay ahead, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton would not have remarked, after demonstrations broke out in Egypt, that the Egyptian governmentwas “stable.” Leaders now showering their key constituencies with pay raises and food subsidies would have done so earlier, thus avoiding the impression of vulnerability.
Longtime regime opponents, too, were caught off guard. For days after Egypt erupted, the Muslim Brotherhood did not know how to react, making it seem out of touch with the “street.”
For decades, most people, however unhappy, kept their political grievances private, for fear of persecution if they turned against their leaders publicly. Through private discussions with trusted friends, everyone sensed that discontent was common, yet no one knew, or could know, the extent of it.
Even harder to gauge was what it would take for the disaffected to say “enough is enough” and begin challenging their regime openly, defiantly, and in concert. If a sufficient number of people reached that threshold at the right time, the long-docile street would explode in anger, with each group of new protesters encouraging more to join in, giving people elsewhere in the world the courage to initiate protests of their own.
That much was understood widely by entrenched dictators, who saw to it that their intelligence and security corps extinguished any flame before it could spread.
History will record that the match Bouazizi lit on December 17, 2010, became the fortuitous spark that ignited a prairie fire. The fire spread so fast that by the time leaders understood what it would consume, it was beyond anyone’s control, and in more than one country. The overthrown Tunisian dictator must now regret that his security forces did not arrest Bouazizi and lock him up, rather than allow his public self-immolation.
As it turned out, by the time the seriousness of the rebellion became clear, fear was already changing sides even within the halls of Tunisian power. President Zine El Abidine Ben Ali’s aides had started worrying more about being caught on the wrong side of Tunisian history than about facing the wrath of their beleaguered boss. Fissures within the Egyptian regime suggest that in Hosni Mubarak’s entourage, too, fear is in flux.
The mechanisms underlying this political unpredictability are not unique to the Arab world. Unforeseen uprisings are possible wherever repression keeps people from expressing their political preferences openly.
In 1989, the fall of repressive East European regimes in quick succession stunned the world, including dissidents who had long recognised communism’s vulnerabilities. Just before the Iranian Revolution of 1979, a CIA report characterised the Iranian monarchy as an “island of stability.” A month before the Russian Revolution of February 1917, Lenin predicted that his country’s great explosion lay in the distant future. All of these cases involved the mushrooming of public protest by long-quiescent constituencies with no prior record of coordinated action.
The aftermath of an unanticipated revolution will itself present surprises. In Egypt, Tunisia, and Yemen, no one knows where power will lie in the months to come. As in Iran in 1979, demonstrators united in opposition to the old regime have wildly differing goals. Their biggest demands – secure jobs, faster growth, low food prices – are not necessarily compatible, and they may require policies that inflict pain. Divisions within the opposition movements are thus inevitable.
If the societies now in turmoil had democratic traditions, they could be expected to find compromises peacefully, through open and honest debate. Alas, given theirhistories, giant leaps forward to full-blown democracy are unlikely. Though steps toward democracy are possible, when the euphoria of the moment passes, political contenders will realise that, if only in self-defence, they must restrict their opponents’ freedoms.
Adding to the complexity of the situation are the Islamists, who have so far kept a low profile. They themselves are divided, with preferences ranging from Shariah rule in one form or another to a “Turkish model” involving mild Islamism capable of achieving mass support through the ballot box.
Several things are certain. The street has changed the calculus of fear not only in the countries that have witnessed major protests, but also in the rest of the world, where rulers are on notice that discontent need not remain submerged forever. Leaders old and new will implement policies designed to alleviate popular dissatisfaction. They will consider both easing repression, in order to gain sympathy, and tightening it, in order to prevent uncontrollable protests. But, whatever they do, they – and the rest of the world – must now expect surprises.
Several dictators who had held power for decades have already been ousted or forced to announce that they will retire.
But protesters in Cairo, Tunis, and Sana want much more. They also seek efficientgovernance, economic reforms to stimulate growth, the ouster of collaborators, democratic rights, freedom of religion (and perhaps also from religion) – in short, a comprehensive social transformation.
Everywhere, incumbent regimes have mounted resistance. The unforgettable scene of camel-and horse-riding Mubarak supporters beating tech-savvy Egyptianprotesters signals that the old order will not yield without a fight.
The revolts themselves caught seasoned observers off guard. Had the United States known what lay ahead, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton would not have remarked, after demonstrations broke out in Egypt, that the Egyptian governmentwas “stable.” Leaders now showering their key constituencies with pay raises and food subsidies would have done so earlier, thus avoiding the impression of vulnerability.
Longtime regime opponents, too, were caught off guard. For days after Egypt erupted, the Muslim Brotherhood did not know how to react, making it seem out of touch with the “street.”
For decades, most people, however unhappy, kept their political grievances private, for fear of persecution if they turned against their leaders publicly. Through private discussions with trusted friends, everyone sensed that discontent was common, yet no one knew, or could know, the extent of it.
Even harder to gauge was what it would take for the disaffected to say “enough is enough” and begin challenging their regime openly, defiantly, and in concert. If a sufficient number of people reached that threshold at the right time, the long-docile street would explode in anger, with each group of new protesters encouraging more to join in, giving people elsewhere in the world the courage to initiate protests of their own.
That much was understood widely by entrenched dictators, who saw to it that their intelligence and security corps extinguished any flame before it could spread.
History will record that the match Bouazizi lit on December 17, 2010, became the fortuitous spark that ignited a prairie fire. The fire spread so fast that by the time leaders understood what it would consume, it was beyond anyone’s control, and in more than one country. The overthrown Tunisian dictator must now regret that his security forces did not arrest Bouazizi and lock him up, rather than allow his public self-immolation.
As it turned out, by the time the seriousness of the rebellion became clear, fear was already changing sides even within the halls of Tunisian power. President Zine El Abidine Ben Ali’s aides had started worrying more about being caught on the wrong side of Tunisian history than about facing the wrath of their beleaguered boss. Fissures within the Egyptian regime suggest that in Hosni Mubarak’s entourage, too, fear is in flux.
The mechanisms underlying this political unpredictability are not unique to the Arab world. Unforeseen uprisings are possible wherever repression keeps people from expressing their political preferences openly.
In 1989, the fall of repressive East European regimes in quick succession stunned the world, including dissidents who had long recognised communism’s vulnerabilities. Just before the Iranian Revolution of 1979, a CIA report characterised the Iranian monarchy as an “island of stability.” A month before the Russian Revolution of February 1917, Lenin predicted that his country’s great explosion lay in the distant future. All of these cases involved the mushrooming of public protest by long-quiescent constituencies with no prior record of coordinated action.
The aftermath of an unanticipated revolution will itself present surprises. In Egypt, Tunisia, and Yemen, no one knows where power will lie in the months to come. As in Iran in 1979, demonstrators united in opposition to the old regime have wildly differing goals. Their biggest demands – secure jobs, faster growth, low food prices – are not necessarily compatible, and they may require policies that inflict pain. Divisions within the opposition movements are thus inevitable.
If the societies now in turmoil had democratic traditions, they could be expected to find compromises peacefully, through open and honest debate. Alas, given theirhistories, giant leaps forward to full-blown democracy are unlikely. Though steps toward democracy are possible, when the euphoria of the moment passes, political contenders will realise that, if only in self-defence, they must restrict their opponents’ freedoms.
Adding to the complexity of the situation are the Islamists, who have so far kept a low profile. They themselves are divided, with preferences ranging from Shariah rule in one form or another to a “Turkish model” involving mild Islamism capable of achieving mass support through the ballot box.
Several things are certain. The street has changed the calculus of fear not only in the countries that have witnessed major protests, but also in the rest of the world, where rulers are on notice that discontent need not remain submerged forever. Leaders old and new will implement policies designed to alleviate popular dissatisfaction. They will consider both easing repression, in order to gain sympathy, and tightening it, in order to prevent uncontrollable protests. But, whatever they do, they – and the rest of the world – must now expect surprises.
Timur Kuran is Professor of Economics and Political Science at Duke Universityand the author of The Long Divergence: How Islamic Law Held Back the Middle East
© Project Syndicate
Hundreds of people have backed a Facebook campaign calling for a "day of rage" across Saudi Arabia next month to demand an elected ruler, greater freedom for women and release of political prisoners.
The page called for a "revolution of yearning" on March 11 in the kingdom, the world's biggest oil exporter and which is ruled by an absolute monarchy.
More than 460 people had endorsed the page by Wednesday morning, but it was impossible to verify how many of them were inside Saudi Arabia or whether any protest would materialize.
Arab uprisings which overthrew leaders in Tunisia and Egypt were mobilized by youths using social media, but activists in Saudi Arabia say a recent Internet call for a demonstration in Riyadh failed to bring anyone onto the streets.
A protest last month in Jeddah after floods swept through Saudi Arabia's second-biggest city was quickly broken up.
The demands included "that the ruler and members of the Shura (Consultative) Council be elected by the people" as well as calls for an independent judiciary, release of political prisoners and the right of freedom of expression and assembly.
They also sought a minimum wage of 10,000 riyals ($2,700), greater employment opportunities, establishing a watchdog to eliminate corruption and cancellation of "unjustified taxes and fees."
Other requests included rebuilding the armed forces, reforming Saudi Arabia's powerful and conservative Sunni Muslim clerics, and "the abolition of all illegal restrictions on women" in the kingdom.
Despite its oil wealth, Saudi Arabia is grappling with unemployment that hit 10.5 percent in 2009. It offers its 18 million nationals social benefits but they are considered less generous than those provided by other Gulf Arab oil producers.
Saudi state television said King Abdullah, returning home on Wednesday after months of absence for medical treatment, would grant benefits to Saudis worth billions of riyals. The measures did not include political reforms in the absolute monarchy such as fresh municipal elections demanded by liberals or opposition groups. The kingdom has no elected parliament and does not tolerate public dissent.
(Reporting by Dominic Evans; Editing by David Stamp)
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