The Jakarta Globe, By Budi Tomaso, Mar 21, 2014
This, dear reader, is the tenth in a continuing series of articles examining that unique Asian republic – Gilanesia – as it revs up the national engine room in a historic election year.
This week, the entertaining scenario of Mrs. Cuddly and Mr. Skinny playing games in the circus snake pit. Oh, what a frenzied week it has been in Gilanesian politics. Finally, at last, the big announcement.
“Will she? Won’t she? Will he? Won’t he?” have been the questions on everyone’s lips. Then last week, like an oracle from on high, came the long awaited news: “Yes, he can” followed by “Yes, I will.”
The country collectively sighed, wiped the national brow and sank back into the national chair while slurping on a bottle of iced tea. “Phew! What a relief. We are saved!”
Meanwhile, sections of the media kicked up their heels in secret delight and giggled and nudged each other, wink, wink. “What a scoop? What an achievement? What a coup? My, haven’t we pulled the wool over the nation’s eyes. The power of the press!”
The circus had finally come to town.
It would seem that Gilanesia’s moment of supreme entertainment arrived in the person of a Mister Skinny, or so the media hype tells us. Now Mr. Skinny is a very nice fellow. To begin with, he’s skinny. He’s not some great, greasy faced lump with podgy hands covered in tacky rings with a slimy grin that warns,
“Don’t even think of buying a used car from this man.”
Mr. Skinny, on the other hand, has a lean and hungry look combined with a slim physique that exudes energy and a warm and welcoming smile. People liked Mr. Skinny ever since he emerged from the wings after doing a solo act in the provinces. He then took on another circus partner and the two of them rode into town and declared, “On with the motley.”
In a short time he’s proved a popular entertainer drawing in the crowds, pressing the flesh, flashing his smile and so far, not actually achieving much except people’s confidence based on his personality and promises, most of the latter, incidentally, unfulfilled to date.
He is tried and true only in a limited way but by no means successful on a grand scale. However, that does not seem to worry many Gilanesians for whom popularity is paramount. It is, nevertheless, a cause of deep concern for a few more sober commentators who take little notice of media hype and the so called ‘popular polls’.
Meanwhile across town at another Circus Agency, the Manager and Star Supremo, Mrs. Cuddly, was being urged to team up with Mr. Skinny. “Our audience numbers are dropping and our show’s not popular. That skinny guy is a real draw card. He’s new! He’s different! He’s got star quality! He’s got a following!”
“He’s skinny!”, snorted Mrs. Cuddly. “He doesn’t look like a performer to me.”
(Remember, dear reader, in Gilanesia looks are everything. It’s all about how you present yourself. It’s all about face. That’s why criminals smile when they are arrested and when they appear in court. And it’s why Gilanesians elect pop stars and celebrities. They have no political acumen – but hey! – they’re popular and famous. That’s enough reason to vote for them!)
There was a lot of discussion in Mrs. Cuddly’s office about Mr. Skinny’s suitability for a place near the top of the Circus Bill. Not everyone held the same opinion. Many of Mrs. Cuddly’s loyal old friends were of the same opinion as she, but not for the same reason.
Mrs. Cuddly didn’t want Mr. Skinny to join her act unless he took second billing and there was no threat of a take-over. She was, after all, the one and only star. Daddy had told her so in so many ways. And her devoted friends and loyal companions reminded her of this often which served to keep her dream alive and their perks intact. One day she would kick that clown Ko-Ko off his perch and once again be the Empress of Circus Gilanesia. (Ko-Ko, you must know, was once her friend but did the dirty on her and set up a rival circus, which for a short time was popular with the crowd.)
Mrs. Cuddly’s inner circle of friends had their own reasons for keeping Mr. Skinny at a distance. Sure, take him on as a support act, but star billing? No way! Who does this little ‘Jonny-come-lately’ think he is? Who is this upstart anyway? A second rate player from the provinces. A tradesman. Why, he doesn’t even have pedigree. (In modern Democratic Gilanesia there is still a lively sense of feudalism which maintains a great social divide between people. Funny, isn’t it?)
Besides, these things have a way of escalating and he just might work his charms on Mrs. Cuddly and where would we be then? Without our perks, our positions and our influence. No way! Mrs. Cuddly first and then, if we must, Mr. Skinny bringing up the rear. Put him on the program but let him do all the donkey work. Mrs. Cuddly will always be our top draw-card and our bankroll.
Some people have suggested that Mrs. Cuddly’s closest friends are living in the past and afraid to face reality and that Mrs. Cuddly and her outlook provide them with a safe shield and protection from the stark and obvious realities of a younger population wanting a less feudal society. That’s what some people say. Mrs. Cuddly’s old guard disagree of course and wish to maintain at all costs the status quo. (They would, wouldn’t they?)
Thus, like our reflection in the Hall of Mirrors in Sideshow Alley, things really don’t appear as they seem or we would like them to be.
The media had whipped up a storm and it would be a foolish person to resist what the media had orchestrated. The media said the public wanted Mr. Skinny to lead the parade and they repeated it loud and long until everyone believed it. Whether it was true or not was beside the point. Even though Mr. Skinny, nice fellow that he is, remains untried and untested when it comes to the Big Act, the media convinced the nation that Mr. Skinny should hit the Big Top and walk the tight-rope.
More importantly and influentially, the business men, the number crunchers and the rupiah counters in Mrs. Cuddly’s back room were of the same opinion. These faceless men and women who work behind the scenery, unseen, unknown to the public gaze, ultimately make the ultimate decisions because they provide the financial backing for the Circus.
“We want a return on our investments, Mrs. Cuddly. And Mr. Skinny is the person who will bring in the crowds and keep our show going. Besides, with the show’s financial assets largely in our hands, as is your political career, it means we call the shots. In the end, dear Mrs. Cuddly, it’s not about your personal ambition or desires but our bank accounts. We let you perform in public and take the applause, but in the end, dear Lady, remember, it is we invisible movers and shakers who pull the strings. Like it or lump it, Mr. Skinny is the star of this show. The media says so; the public have been conned and believe what the media says and now we also have decided for Mr. Skinny because cold hard cash is the bottom line. We want access to that cash and Mr. Skinny, it would seem, is our guarantee of the public putting us in a place where we can get our hands on it. That’s why we are backing him and that’s why you will too. And make sure everyone else does as well. Use your charm, Madam. If not, order them; command them!”
And so to give all this skullduggery legitimacy and an air of disinterested self-sacrifice for the good of Gilanesia, Mrs. Cuddly and Mr. Skinny very publicly made the symbolic gesture of seeking mystical approval which served to ratify and seal a deal which had already been done in the vipers’ den.
Mrs. Cuddly, true to the great artist she is, gave a commanding performance as she handed on the mantle of chief clown in the Circus to a suitably subservient Mr. Skinny. And as she commanded him to lead the parade, so she commanded the audience to turn up and applaud and warned them that if the show didn’t go on, they had only themselves to blame. (Mrs. Cuddly has a strong sense of her own authority.)
So Mr. Skinny smiled and said humble things and meekly accepted the greatness thrust upon him by the great and gracious and commanding Mrs. Cuddly. It was a class act, if a little melodramatic and corny.
The audience loved it and lapped it up. The media basked in a few days of frenzy, while some of Mrs. Cuddly’s loyal old friends were disposed to sulk. There will always be those who cry at the circus.
And so now, dear reader, it is only for us to reflect on the ways of democracy in the wonderful Republic of Gilanesia. How is it possible that the people’s choice is decided by a bunch of journalists, media owners and some back-room string pullers and puppet manipulators even though Mrs. Cuddly maintains that it is she who makes the ultimate decisions. And for that matter, why should Mrs. Cuddly think she can call the shots? Is it the case that she thinks one person alone decides in a democracy?
It’s a funny sort of democracy where the people don’t get a say in who will lead the way. Who exactly is running this country; who exactly is pulling the strings? Who are the puppets and who are the puppeteers?
And if, as expected, Mr. Skinny brings in the crowds, who exactly will control and guide his act? The back-room crowd? Mrs. Cuddly? Or will he exert his own authority and independence and confirm the fears of Mrs. Cuddly’s old guard and loyal friends and toss the lot of them out ?
And where would that leave Mrs. Cuddly? She has already been betrayed by Ko-Ko the clown. Another act of disloyalty from an underling, and a skinny one at that, would surely hit hard and assault her well known sense of pride and born-to-rule mentality.
So who ultimately will Mr. Skinny be accountable to and how will he operate? Everything is looking a bit dark in the circus tent. But I can hear some noises. Surely it is not members of the House of Representatives laughing among themselves and saying, “At this rate if things continue as they are, we will have even more free reign to do everything and nothing as we like.”
Whatever the answer to those questions, one thing is for certain: There was no mention of a safety net under the tight-rope Mr. Skinny will have to walk.
I wonder if Mr. Skinny knows the words of this song?
How does it go again?
You’re playing with the big boys now
……da de da de dumpty something……
You will kneel before us
Kneel to our splendorous power…
You put up a front
You put up a fight
And just to show we feel no spite
You can be our acolyte
But first, boy, it’s time to bow
Or it’s your own grave you’ll dig, boy
You’re playing with the big boys now
Playing with the big boys now!
I hope Mr. Skinny knows that, because what lies ahead is a real change from a solo act. Now he’s in the viper’s den.
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vr 21 maa 2014 - 11:57