In the days leading up to March 8th, 2008 (which, if you would allow me a tiny bit of propheteering, will enter popular parlance in the same way as November 10th — and, perhaps, May 13th) a new scrawl began appearing along Jalan Bangsar: on walls, rail supports, and the columns that hold up the beginnings to the New Pantai Expressway.

“ABU,” it said: “Asal bukan UMNO.” Later, I noticed an English translation had appeared to catch Anglophiles. “Anyone but UMNO.” In the week after elections, I heard that these same lines had been sprayed on in SS2 and elsewhere, often in interaction with a nearby Barisan Nasional ad.

Particulars of the graffiti varied. Most had no embellishments, delivering their sentiment plainly. Others sported more artistry: the one fixed to the Bangsar LRT station, for example, preferred its three letters in block stencil and filled in with black paint, to contrast against the blue background. Some, for maximum clarity as to “ABU” ’s acronymous nature, fixed a period after each alphabet.

 From the road

All caught the eye: partly because they were placed, by accident or design, on walls empty of visual clutter (gang tags, campaign posters, advertising stickers) — but mostly because their statement was so significant, in itself. The graffiti effectively shouted their line, like the ad hoc “Jemput Anwar” invitations we saw in 2005.

It was fun to speculate about the identities of those responsible for “ABU”. The visual differences meant that there was probably a number of individuals involved — if not a number of disparate groups, all swept up in memetic frenzy. Reckless guerrillas under the vigilance of campaign-alert police, they were probably nocturnal, young and male. Their modes of transportation would have been motorcycles, since these are nimblest. They were working-class, most likely; generally, the bourgeoisie do not have the fortitude to both respect graffiti and actually bring it about.

They were definitely not officially affiliated with the opposition’s Big Three; it’s hard to imagine PKR, DAP, or PAS candidates overtly associating themselves to such blatant illegality — and, of course, possible disqualification. Perhaps the flotillas of be-flagged bikes we saw streaming down highways last week carried spray cans with them. Woo-hoo!

Passersby being arrested 

As for “ABU” ’s implications, I did not consider them very much — the bustle of election time was a larger distraction — though I do recall a sinking feeling in my stomach at the sight of the doodle. “Asal bukan UMNO” is a call to action: a plea, directive, and rallying cry in equal measure. (The paranoid among us would probably also call it a veiled threat.) But it is a message limited, in the end, by race politics. “Anyone but UMNO” pinpoints the United Malays National Organisation; not identifying the Barisan Nasional coalition means that “ABU” does not deign to speak for the Barisan Rakyat — a dusty adherence to allegiances of skin colour.

“Asal Bukan UMNO” is also a negative statement: “Don’t vote for them,” instead of “Vote for us.” Anything else but the ruling party would do, it seemed — and this demonstrates less for hope in the future than anger at the past. Last Saturday evening, as the numbers from salurans and polling stations flowed in, and news sites and SMSes gave the bilik gerakan good news, now-YB for the Bukit Lanjan state seat, Elizabeth Wong, sobered herself by saying: “This is a vote of no confidence to the BN government, more than it is a sign of support for us. We have to work hard.”

The elation in those hours is fast bleeding away, and as news of teething trouble — the altercations surrounding the choice of Perak’s Menteri Besar being the most recent — and pundit analysis builds I find myself waxing metaphorical about “abu”, instead. Taken as a word, instead of an acronym, it is surprisingly fitting: an old order passed away (a phrase retrospectively resonant and equally beguiling, what with Zakaria Md Deros’s shock expiration) in an overnight blaze that few — perhaps least of all the volunteers in opposition campaigns — saw coming; now Barisan Nasional’s Malaysia, that ugly piece of national architecture, is a smoldering ruin.

Oh, Khir!

Reconstruction is in order. Will the opposition parties manage to rise above (and, eventually, demolish) their race affiliations? Will they encourage moderates? Will we manage deal-brokering and diplomacy in such a way that the politics will not betray the aspiration for true democracy and a united people? The next few weeks — and, really, the next five years — will test our hopes, and our determination to see change for the better.

Close to midnight, at the beginning of March 9th, 2008, someone told me: “Now the real fight begins.” If the old Malaysia is in ashes, we will need to work for that phoenix — otherwise all we’ll get, in the end, is bitterness in our mouths.