24 Asia The EconomistApril 14th 2018
2 bother the poorest and expensive housing
irks the middle class. Graduate unemploy-
ment is high, and credit is hard to come by
for small businesses. All detest a goods-
and-services tax of 6% introduced in 2015;
the opposition has offered to scrap it in fa-
vour of a less efficient sales-and-services
tax. Mr Najib argues that doing so would
expand the budget deficit alarmingly, since
the tax brought in 45bn ringgit ($10.5bn)
last year.
To soothe the disgruntled, the govern-
ment has promised tens of billions of ring-
git to poorer people, veterans, entrepre-
neurs and others. Its most recent budget,
presided over by Mr Najib, saw a 15% in-
crease in cash for “subsidiesand social as-
sistance”. Handouts can be effective.
“When people give you a freezer, you don’t
worry too much about the make or mod-
el,” explains Zaidul Ahmad. He lives in Lu-
rah Bilut, a ruralsettlement founded al-
most 60 years ago in the state of Pahang
with the support of a government agency,
the Federal Land Development Authority.
Similar communities exist across Malay-
sia, many built specifically to house poor
Malays. In recent months high-speed inter-
net, a shared workspace and attractive graf-
fiti murals have been installed in Lurah Bi-
lut. “If things are good, why change the
prime minister?” asks Mr Zaidul. He shrugs
off1MDB, although he does express more
concern about local corruption.
The opposition hopes that other rural
Malays will see things differently. The plan
is that Dr Mahathir will attract Malay vot-
ers who have shunned the opposition in
the past. He used to headUMNO,andwas
Malaysia’s longest-serving prime minister,
but left the party in disgust at its handling
of1MDB. The 92-year-old retains a political
base in the northern state of Kedah, but is
energetically touring battleground states
such as Johor to stir support.
Dr Mahathir insists that “a Malay tsuna-
mi” could win the day for the opposition,
and is hoping to increase turnout. Eyes are
also trained on the eastern state of Sabah,
which is dominated bylocal parties within
the ruling coalition. Since the last election
Shafie Apdal, formerly anUMNOleader
who had helped to keep Sabah in the fold,
has formed a new opposition party there.
He was sacked as a minister three years ago
for criticising the government over1MDB.
Alliances are shifting forUMNOtoo. It is
cosying up to the Pan-Malaysian Islamic
Party (PAS), which has denouncedUMNO
as godless for decades. PASgoverns the
poor, rural state of Kelantan and wants to
impose more traditional Islamic punish-
ments, such as caning for premarital sex,
sodomy and consuming alcohol.
This agenda concerns those, such as the
Sultan of Johor, who fear rising religious in-
tolerance. He spoke out last year after a
launderette in his state tried to bar non-
Muslims. Mr Najib, in contrast, seemed lit-tle troubled by the episode. UMNOmay
persuade PASto split the opposition vote
by putting forward candidates in certain
constituencies where it might not previ-
ously have done so.
In the house in the town of Kuala Lipis
where Mr Najib was born, now turned into
a museum, there is little sign of devotion to
the man himself, pictured in fading photo-
graphs. Museum attendants will not saywhether they support him, pointing out
that the government pays their salaries. In
the very busiest periods they estimate that
300 visitors a month walk under the villa’s
wooden rafters, in which snakes like to
nestle. In quieter times it is just 100. Mr Na-
jib himself pops by only very occasionally.
After all, he has been busy in recent years
erecting perhaps insurmountable obsta-
cles in the path of the opposition. 7Sumo wrestlingStoutly sexist
T
HERE is more to sumo than fat men
grunting. The sport also has a reli-
gious dimension: each match is preceded
by intricate Shinto rituals. The ring is said
to be sacred ground. Women, tradition-
ally considered polluting in Shintoism,
are barred from entering it. But many
Japanese were nonetheless shocked
when the referee at a match earlier this
month ordered out of the ring several
women who had rushed to give first aid
to the local mayor, who had collapsed
while giving a speech.
The sumo association later apol-
ogised for the referee’s “inappropriate
response in the life-threatening situa-
tion”, but appeared to stand by the rule.
Two days later a female mayor criticised
the sport’s sexism in a speech at a sumo
tournament, which she had to make
from the sidelines of the ring. National
politicians have also weighed in.
“Before the incident no one really
cared about the restrictive nature of the
rule,” says Nagisa Osada, a sports writer,
“but it revealed that sumo officials saw
the gender rule as more important thanthe mayor’s life.” Some have pointed out
that sumo has not always been so pious.
It was only in the militarist 1930s that the
sport became a symbol of national pride
and religious purity. In previous eras,
women were allowed to fight, some-
times topless. A 5th-century emperor
staged just such a bout to distract a car-
penter who had boasted that he never
made mistakes. The carpenter botched
his work, and was executed.
The current fuss may not spur change.
Many religions discriminate against
women, and the rule does not stand out
as much in Japan, a country not known
for equality of the sexes, as it might else-
where. In any case, says Ms Osada, wom-
en face more important battles.
But the sumo association has reason
to be mindful of women’s feelings. The
sport had been suffering from declining
audiences and a series of embarrassing
scandals, including a top-ranking fighter’s
assault on a more junior wrestler last
year. But it has recently been enjoying a
resurgence in popularity thanks to
“sujo”—young female fans.TOKYO
A misogynistic moment stirs outrageThe roly-poly patriarchy