The two sets of elected representatives making up the Dewan Rakyat and 13 state assemblies serve a distinctive purpose: empower a coalition of discrete parties to form the federal and state administrations, usually after a general election concludes.
The winning coalition, once control of the majority in their respective houses is ratified, empowers a single member of parliament (MP) or state assemblyman to become prime minister (PM) or menteri besar (MB)/chief minister. With obligatory consent of their respective monarchs, these consequential processes are how politicians are appointed to top federal/state offices since Merdeka. No longer, it seems.
In recent years, the ascension of PM/MB has lost its "innocence", ever since the Sheraton Move and Johor election was effected and, to our annoying distress, "backdoor PM" was added to our lexicon of governance.
Even a sitting PM, no matter how entrenched, was squeezed out by a coup repulsively conspired and deployed. Politicians coveting an inauguration to high office will be wary of the treacherous route.
The dynamics of securing the top job has been inveigled by newly-formulated political undercurrents — greed, unresolved grievances and cult of personality fetish being the motivation.
The highest political office may have been transfigured but one characteristic in this expanse is still grounded — the elected representative's permanent kinesis. With only one MP anointed PM, the other 221 — a select ambitious few still dreaming away — have the luxury of not harbouring illusions, preferring to hawk their usefulness in political than communal pragmatism.
The traditionally devoted elected representative is for historical footnotes: they who campaign and fight for bread-and-butter issues, ensure drains are unblocked and potholes filled — the dedicated, hardy Lee Lam Thye-types who win elections after investing substantive years in community service.
Conversely, the demands and expectations of contemporary representatives look to steer towards perks, privileges and enablers of power. Some have even yelped their entitlement in dubious ways. To be sure, there are representatives who still proudly wear that community service badge, but they tend to stick a magnetic strip on their badges, attracting attention to their new image as "collective king-makers" armed with strategic leverage of numbers that can support or shun a pretender, provided they are made an "offer" they can't refuse, to paraphrase a fictitious Mafia godfather.
So tantalising is the lure to defect (or in local parlance, to hop or frog), representatives switch allegiances in a moment's notice, especially if their Titanic is sinking, and shrug off voter betrayal as the "cost of doing business".
Nevertheless, the shady "frogging" may soon be eliminated now that the Anti-Hopping law is in place but enforcement will lag because constitutional bugs are still being sorted out. So, there's still some time for MPs eager to exploit their advantageous positions by playing the "numbers game" that multiply in government largesse.
All it needs is a dominant Pied Piper to mesmerise the compromised to hop from yet another collapsing cliff, to yet another lucrative safety net.