OCTOBER 23 — “One idiot is one idiot. Two idiots are two idiots. Ten thousand idiots are a political party.”
These days, we have to work increasingly hard to verify what we read on the Internet.
A famous name attached to a quotation is no guarantee that the person actually said it.
So, when I came across the quote, I spent a considerable amount of time trying to trace its origins. I could not establish who first said it in precisely these words.
But I liked its rather wicked observation too much to abandon it. So, a clarification before I proceed.
While the quotation is widely attributed to Franz Kafka on the Internet, there is no reliable evidence that he ever wrote or said it.
The closest documented source appears to be Italian journalist and satirist Leo Longanesi, who wrote in a diary entry dated December 15, 1938 that one fool is one fool, two fools are two fools, but ten thousand fools become a historical force.
The entry was subsequently published in 1947. Somewhere along the way, the historical force became a political party, and Kafka acquired a quotation he may never have uttered.
Imagine this, attach a famous writer’s name to an unverified quotation, and it suddenly acquires intellectual authority.
So, should we attach a political party’s name to an otherwise indefensible position, it could also suddenly acquire legitimacy.
Neither becomes more truthful through the association, but the borrowed authority makes people considerably less interested in asking questions.
Which brings me to Malaysian politics.
There is something accurate about the quote’s observation of collective political behaviour.
When an individual politician abandons a principle, we call it hypocrisy. When an entire party does the same, it suddenly becomes strategic co-operation or some commitment to political stability.
Apparently, nonsense becomes considerably more respectable when practised collectively.
Consider what Malaysians have witnessed since 2018. Barisan Nasional (BN) lost federal power after more than six decades. Pakatan Harapan (PH) celebrated the victory as a historic democratic breakthrough.
Two years later, the government collapsed through political realignments. By 2022, PH and BN were governing together.
The parties that had spent years explaining why the other side could not be trusted suddenly discovered the virtues of co-operation.
Former enemies became partners, previous accusations became inconvenient memories, and everything was justified in the name of political stability.
One could almost admire the efficiency with which political principles were rearranged.
By 2026, this flexibility has become considerably more sophisticated. BN governs with PH federally, with Perikatan Nasional (PN) in Negeri Sembilan, and has negotiated an electoral arrangement with PAS in Melaka.
Political differences can be profound in one state, negotiable in another, and entirely irrelevant in Putrajaya.
At this juncture, in fact, political parties should consider a disclaimer such as this: Principles and alliances may vary according to constituency and electoral circumstances.
Then there is corruption, the one political issue everyone condemns until the conversation becomes normalised.
In January 2026, prosecutors announced that no further action would be taken concerning the 47 charges previously brought against Deputy Prime Minister Ahmad Zahid Hamidi, citing insufficient evidence following further investigations.
The decision does not establish guilt, and due process must be respected. But questions about prosecutorial independence and institutional accountability remain legitimate.
When an Opposition politician faces corruption allegations, politicians and their supporters demand accountability, sometimes even before investigations are completed.
But when someone from their governing coalition faces controversy, they suddenly remind everyone about due process, the presumption of innocence and the need to let institutions do their work.
Of course, those legal principles are essential. What is rather remarkable is how selectively some politicians remember them.
At this juncture, I would hesitate to describe contemporary Malaysian politics as a country of blindly loyal followers. That would be unfair to all voters and would overlook how much political support has changed.
Many Malaysians are increasingly sceptical of political parties. They have watched enough political manoeuvring to know that today’s promises may become tomorrow’s embarrassments.
Some vote because they genuinely believe in a party’s agenda. Others vote because they distrust the alternatives even more.
Some support individual candidates despite reservations about their parties. And there are those who have become so disappointed with the political establishment that they no longer expect much from anyone.
Voting for a party, therefore, does not necessarily mean believing everything its leaders say. Sometimes, it simply means choosing the option one finds least objectionable. This is where Malaysian politics becomes rather absurd.
Political parties continue behaving as though they command unquestioning loyalty, even when voters may be supporting them reluctantly.
A person can criticise a government throughout its term and still vote for it at the next election, not because the government has earned their confidence, but because the alternative seems worse.
Sometimes, I wonder, this is such a convenient situation for politicians. They no longer have to convince voters that they have kept their promises.
They only have to convince enough people that someone else would do a worse job.
And what are voters supposed to do with all those earlier warnings? Apparently, they are often being told, we should just forget them.
Political circumstances have changed, they are told, and mature voters must understand that compromise is necessary.
Compromise is indeed necessary in politics. But surely there should be some distinction between a reasonable compromise and abandoning everything one previously claimed to stand for.
The more troubling development is that Malaysians may be becoming so accustomed to these reversals that they no longer find them particularly surprising.
A politician breaks a promise, a party changes sides, a former enemy becomes a coalition partner, and the response is increasingly predictable: Well, that is politics.
And what a wonderfully useful phrase that has become. That is politics.
Three words that can explain away almost anything without requiring anyone to explain very much at all.
This is precisely why political disappointment can become dangerous.
When voters expect politicians to break their promises, every broken promise becomes less shocking.
When political deals are assumed to be motivated by self-interest, even the most questionable arrangements begin to look ordinary.
Eventually, politicians may no longer need to defend their inconsistencies very convincingly.
They can simply rely on voters being tired of hearing the same explanations. And that is an extraordinary advantage to give those who hold power.
Political parties are entitled to change their positions. Circumstances change, coalition governments require negotiation, and governing is inevitably more complicated than campaigning.
But those changes should come with explanations. If a party once described another as corrupt or unfit to govern, voters are entitled to ask what has changed beyond the opportunity to share power.
If politicians promised institutional reforms before taking office, they should explain what they have delivered and why other commitments remain unfinished.
If they condemned particular practices while in opposition, they should be prepared to explain why those same practices are now acceptable.
These are hardly unreasonable expectations. Yet in Malaysian politics, asking politicians to remember their own promises can sometimes seem more demanding than asking voters to forget them.
As Malaysia approaches another general election, we can expect the familiar speeches about integrity, reform, stability and the dangers posed by political opponents.
There will be new alliances, old accusations and probably a few remarkable reconciliations between politicians who previously insisted they could never work together.
Some of these compromises may be necessary. Some promises may be sincere. But voters should not have to keep forgetting yesterday’s declarations merely to understand today’s political arrangements.
The danger may no longer be that Malaysians believe everything their political leaders tell them.
It may be that many have heard so many promises and witnessed so many reversals that they have stopped expecting politicians to mean what they say.
And that brings us back to the quote. Ten thousand idiots may or may not make a political party. But it does not take ten thousand idiots to keep political hypocrisy alive.
It only takes enough people becoming accustomed to it, until politicians no longer feel compelled to explain their contradictions.
It is especially troubling about a political system in which voters can recognise hypocrisy perfectly well, yet find themselves repeatedly choosing between politicians who practise it.
Sometimes I think that is the cruellest joke of Malaysian politics today.
Politicians no longer need to command our loyalty. They may only need to survive our disappointment, how convenient it is.
* Khoo Ying Hooi, PhD is an associate professor at Universiti Malaya.
** This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail.