Reformasi
In A War Zone
The Prime Minister's
spanking modern new offices in Putra Jaya befits a leader of the Third World:
isolated, opulent, garish, tacky. He is proud of it. His children and
his cronies did their bit with their expensive shoddy, patchy work. It is
far from the madding crowd. As you know, he is wary of crowds outside of
Putra Jaya; so the crowds are brought to Putra Jaya so that they can gawk
and thank the God Almighty for a leader who behaves like one. But the
crowds, like Chinese educationists and Suqui, do not believe anything he says
these days. Worse, even buildings in Putra
Jaya embrace
"reformasi": without warning and against the Prime Minister's
orders, bits and pieces of the ceiling in his office come crashing
down so that it now resembles his own befuddled mind; reformasi-minded
airconductioning ducts and burst waterpipes forced the chief secretary, Tan Sri
Abdul
Halim Ali, from his well-appointed offices, which, like the Prime
Minister's, resembles a war zone. Like the police in real life, he cannot
staunch it.
He is furious beyond belief. Why? Putra Jaya is
built to Bolehland's exacting standards. Look at the UKM teaching hospital
in Cheras, built as a turnkey by an eminent crony contractor and so advanced that
it has no gutters. Everyone is embarassed and no one talks about it. The
Langkawi airport extension is built, like Putra Jaya, at speed and without
supervision, that the only way it can be
repaired is to tear it down and
rebuild. The same crony built the Mahsuri exhibition hall on the island at
speed in 1995 for RM100 million to host the Lima defence show; two years
later, RM40 million more was spent to renovate it. And the five-star hotels there
which would not pass muster as a three-star in Kuala Lumpur. The Hicom
building has first grade granite tiles set at speed that a huge carpet now covers
the ugly patches of moisture that seeps through. Now we build, at speed, the
world's largest convention centre in Putra Jaya, with a few hundred villas, to
host the OIC conference in 2002.
He wanted a brand new federal capital that
history would remember him by. As the pre-Moghul emperor Tughlaq of Delhi in
the 14th century wanted for Tughlaqabad. Unlike Tughlaq, he built it in
stealth and speed, out of parliamentary purview and without a plan. He
wanted a residence which the sultans could drool over and know he is Emperor and
they mere rulers. So, his is a modest
four-bedroom residence with an
attached 400-room palace, the Istana Rakyat. And to push home the point, the
Yang Dipertuan Agung, the King, the He Who Is The Highest Of The High, is
relegated to his plebian palace, a converted Chinese mansion, in Kuala Lumpur.
Besides
his larger-than-life offices, where like Pharaohs of old, he gathers his principal
cabinet ministers, all there for their fealty, absolute or pretended. The
pink mosque is out of this world, but like the palace and the offices, the
tackiness shows. Treated water meant for the people is pumped into the
artificial lake in front of his residence to cause a water shortage in Selangor.
Those who
did not move to Tughlaqabad as ordered -- two men, one lame and one
blind -- were bound and tied to horses and dragged to the new capital. The
Prime Minister makes people suffer in another way. He has ordered moved to
Putra Jaya commonly consulted offices in Kuala Lumpur, so that it costs an arm and
a leg to do so now. There is, of course, no buses or trains into Putra Jaya,
and no way to move in it if one does not have a car or motorcyle. Taxis, of
course, are not allowed inside. And the offices are a few kilometres away.
The distances are long, the heat unbearable, walking impossible. And no
signposts. Not in the prime minister's offices. Not on the way into
Putra Jaya. Not around Putra Jaya. Tughlaqabad did not survive long
after Tughlaq. Nor would Putra Jaya. Tuglaqabad had no access to
water. Putra Jaya has too much of it. It is now, as I said, a war
zone.
Metaphorically. Physically. Politically. Administratively.
Aesthetically.
M.G.G. Pillai
pillai@mgg.pc.my |
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