INTRODUCTION

When history looks back at the Covid-19 pandemic, it will perhaps recall “social distancing” as one of the most important phrases to enter humankind's lexicon. At a time when countries were urging their residents to physically distance themselves from each other, the Internet and social media came to the fore as channels to gain information about the virus and its devastating effects on the economy and healthcare. Citizen sentiments as expressed on social media can predict support (or not) for national policies and happenings in the world (Neri et al. 2012). Thus, it is useful to recall the public discourse during this time as a proxy, imperfect as it may be, for the impact of government policies.

At the beginning of the Covid-19 pandemic and the first lockdown in Malaysia, people rallied together on social media in support of each other and healthcare professionals. Hashtags such as #KitaJagaKita (we take care of each other), #DudukRumah (stay home) and #StayHome went viral, with citizens urging solidarity against an invisible enemy—the SARS-CoV-2 virus (Lee 2023). The #KitaJagaKita movement was then co-opted by the government to build support for its policies surrounding movement restrictions and lockdowns. This led to a public backlash in which the hashtag #RakyatJagaRakyat (citizens take care of citizens) went viral in the face of weakening economic opportunities and increasing unemployment (Abdul Halim 2021). In July 2021, as the country entered another round of lockdowns and many peoples’ savings were running short, the hashtag #BenderaPutih (White Flag Movement) went viral, with citizens urging those who needed financial support or food supplies to display white flags on their balconies or homes (BBC 2021). This movement, driven by civil society (primarily individuals), was effective in getting aid to those who needed it. For example, more than twenty households in a fishing village in Kedah found help after putting white flags on their doors (Wang 2021). Tech entrepreneurs in Malaysia—such as Reza Razali, the founder of Terato Tech—also rose to the occasion, creating a web-based platform to connect those who needed aid to those who wanted to donate. The platform featured tens of thousands of requests for help mere weeks after launching; it lives on until today at kitajaga.co, having morphed into an instrument used by the Malaysian Ministry of Finance to disseminate pricing data for specific controlled goods to the public (Malaysiakini 2023).

INTRODUCTION

The Covid-19 pandemic took Malaysia by surprise, as it did most other countries. The first wave of cases came about as the country faced a political crisis, which led to a rapid change of government at the federal level in early March 2020 when the Pakatan Harapan administration fell. The newly formed Perikatan Nasional coalition—comprising Parti Pribumi Bersatu Malaysia (Bersatu), Parti Islam Se-Malaysia (PAS) and the United Malays National Organization (UMNO)—took over. It is important to note that the Perikatan Nasional government took over with only a slim majority of 113 parliamentary seats out of 222. In July 2021, UMNO officially withdrew its support from the Perikatan Nasional government, leading to political and policy uncertainty and instability.

Between 2020 and 2022, there was also a second change in the top leadership position, when in August 2021 the Prime Minister was replaced with another member of the same coalition—but from a different party—and the Cabinet was reshuffled significantly. Consequently, Malaysia had three different health ministers in as many years and it was amid high levels of political instability that the pandemic took hold in several increasingly devastating waves.

Following the March 2020 federal government change, four states—Kedah, Perak, Malacca and Johor—also changed government. Then, in September 2020, Sabah held a state election due to political defections from the ruling coalition, leading to a fifth change in state government. Three other state elections took place in 2021 and 2022 (in Malacca, Sarawak and Johor), and although the incumbent coalitions retained power, the Chief Minister of Johor was replaced. Such rapid political changes over a short period of time would be expected to and did disrupt policy coordination at the state level.

The policy coordination required to handle a national health crisis tested the robustness of the institutions and leadership. Indeed, Malaysia needed efficient horizontal and vertical coordination to facilitate effective pandemic management. Instead, changes in the individuals helming federal government agencies crucial to this coordination within health and socio-economic spheres meant interrupted administration.

Although Malaysia is a constitutional federation, law- and policymaking has been historically highly centralized (Hutchinson 2014; Ostwald 2017). During the pandemic and the political crisis between 2020 and 2022, the federal government continued this centralized approach and adopted top-down approaches to managing Covid-19 through federal laws and regulations. In several cases, federal-state relations became fractious when disagreements arose, particularly when the federal government did not conduct meaningful prior consultation with the states.

INTRODUCTION

The emergence of the Covid-19 pandemic necessitated the administration of safe and effective vaccines. The vaccine also needed to be given to sufficient numbers of people to achieve the herd immunity required to halt transmission of the virus, as well as the health and mortality impacts and the negative effects on the economy. There was thus a rush to produce vaccines, but these had to be produced at scale, priced affordably and made available globally. Vaccines also had to be authorized or approved for human use. Each country had to choose whether to use only vaccines approved by the World Health Organization (WHO) or to expand their choices based on their assessment of the available vaccines and their country's needs. The supply of vaccines to a country, especially to developing countries with no capacity to produce their own, became a critical factor in managing the pandemic. Procuring vaccines has become a serious challenge for many developing countries (Sheikh et al. 2021), including those in Southeast Asia. Local production can also support supply since some developing countries do have the capacity to manufacture vaccines. Unfortunately, intellectual property rights and limited technology transfer can stand in the way of local production (OECD 2021). Vaccines were not accessible in most developing countries at the end of 2020 when they were first authorized for use, because high-income countries had pre-purchased a significant portion (Tagoe et al. 2021). Given budget constraints, developing countries had to consider different supply sources, including donations and aid.

In 2020, it was already established that several leading vaccines required ultra-cold storage and transport chains and had short shelf lives once removed from the ultra-cold conditions. Hence, the deployment of vaccines also depends on a country's logistics infrastructure, capacity and capability (OECD 2021). There can also be significant variations within a country, namely between better-developed urban areas and logistically challenged rural regions.

Another challenge that remains even once supplies are made available is the state's capacity to distribute and administer the vaccines to their entire populations, taking into account the risk factors of different age groups and vulnerabilities, geographical constraints and sociocultural factors (Tevdovski, Jolakoski, and Stojkoski 2022). A state's capacity to implement a viable and effective vaccination strategy is therefore another key factor that can influence a country's vaccine roll-out.

INTRODUCTION

The Covid-19 pandemic has taken a significant toll on many countries, both in terms of lives lost and economic disruption through the impact on jobs, incomes and livelihoods.

In the long battle against Covid-19, the Singapore government prioritized the protection of both lives and livelihoods. Singapore's approach at the outset of the pandemic was to control the spread of the virus so as to minimize deaths and prevent the healthcare system from being overwhelmed. Concurrently, substantial financial support was provided to keep businesses and households afloat.

Singapore's experience of SARS in 2003 and the global financial crisis of 2008–9 informed its approach to dealing with Covid-19 and the economic fallout. Task forces comprising government ministers and civil servants were quickly set up to coordinate policies, both for infection control and management of the economy. State assistance covered jobs, citizens, households and businesses. The assistance was a buffer against job and income losses, designed to mitigate the impact of the pandemic on the economy and labour market. To finance this exceptional support, the Singapore government enacted five budgets in 2020 and drew on the nation's Past Reserves1 for the first time since the global financial crisis.

Subsequently, with Covid-19 becoming endemic, it became necessary to open up the economy in phases, accepting a rise in infections while seeking to minimize deaths and serious illness. Singapore's reopening was aided by the efficient roll-out of its vaccine and booster programme, as the more transmissible Delta and Omicron strains of the virus made a zero-Covid policy untenable for a country heavily dependent on global connectivity.

Singapore emerged from the pandemic with a relatively low mortality rate (below 0.1 per cent as of end-2022, compared with the global average of about 1 per cent).2 It also significantly mitigated the fallout of the pandemic on the economy and labour market. However, the longer-term impact of the pandemic in areas such as inequality and foreign workforce policies will require sustained attention.

In mid-March 2024, during a private conversation, the author's sixty-seven-year-old uncle, a longstanding member of the CPV who fought for the North during the Vietnam War, predicted that the then State President Vo Van Thuong would be dismissed. When asked for the reason behind his prediction, he ascribed it to the sudden cancellation of the visit by the King of the Netherlands. The author's uncle further explained that State President Thuong had extended the invitation to King Willem-Alexander to visit Vietnam, and as the head of state, the responsibility to receive the Dutch monarch would naturally fall to Mr Thuong. However, the visit was quietly cancelled at the last minute, causing great confusion. This can only mean that Mr Thuong's status as head of state is somewhat compromised, and he may no longer be able to fulfil his duties. The reason, according to the author's uncle, was President Thuong's involvement with Phuc Son group, a construction entity under investigation for corruption and fraud.

Reports regarding the official visit of the King of the Netherlands were initially covered by the state-controlled media; however, it appears that most of these reports have since been removed. The abrupt cancellation of the visit, which occurred at the eleventh hour, received minimal coverage from domestic media outlets. Nonetheless, foreign media extensively reported on the cancellation. BBC highlighted that the stated reason for the cancellation was “internal affairs” and suggested the possibility of Mr Thuong's involvement in a corruption scandal. The rumour that Mr Thuong allegedly received 60 billion VND from the Phuc Son group, purportedly to construct a worship house for his clan, was also reported by VOA. This information, as my uncle explained, was discussed within his circle of acquaintances, some of whom are retired military personnel and police officers, who frequently engage in discussions about Vietnamese politics.

People are clearly aware of the corruption taking place around them but usually take it for granted. The compulsory military service system in Vietnam is another example. Male citizens between the ages of eighteen and twenty-seven are required to serve two years of compulsory military service. Since serving for two years may cost a conscript his career and there is a risk of hazing, many people actively avoid it.

On 10 June 2018, thousands of protesters flooded the streets of Hanoi, the capital of Vietnam, and other major cities during a week-long series of demonstrations that saw both widespread offline and online dissident activities. The demonstrations came two days before the final vote on the Special Economic Zone Act was scheduled to take place. The Special Economic Zone Act is a law that would enable the government to lease land in three designated economic zones to foreign entities for up to ninety-nine years. Protesters were met by large cordons of police officers who attempted to contain the demonstration. The demonstrations were, for the most part, peaceful; however, footage has surfaced on the internet showing police officers and individuals who appeared to be plainclothes officers dragging protesters into police cars and unmarked vans.

The protests received extensive media coverage overseas while state-controlled media inside Vietnam kept their coverage of the incident to a minimum. Domestic media outlets reported that people in many localities took to the streets, causing social disorder and that the police detained some protesters. Ultimately, perhaps partly due to the pressure arising from the protests, the National Assembly of Vietnam gave in and voted to postpone the implementation of the bill indefinitely.

This was not the first time Vietnamese took to the street to express their dissatisfaction. Large scale protests erupted across Vietnam in May 2014 in response to the deployment of a Chinese oil rig in the disputed waters of the South China Sea, which was perceived as an illegal and aggressive move by the Vietnamese. The demonstrations quickly escalated into riots with as many as 20,000 protesters torching and looting foreign-owned factories. Subsequent clashes between the police and rioters resulted in at least twenty-one people killed and almost one hundred wounded. In 2016, a series of demonstrations were held from May until as late as December to protest the dumping of toxic waste into the coastal waters of Ha Tinh, Quang Binh, Quang Tri and Thua Thien–Hue provinces in Central Vietnam by a Taiwanese steel plant. Prolonged exposure to toxic substances discharged from Formosa's steel plant through drainage pipes resulted in a massive number of dead fishes found washed up on shore, endangering the life of the locals whose livelihoods depend heavily on fishing.

As discussed in the previous chapter, democracy has always been one of the elements of the CPV's claims to legitimacy. Democratic centralism is embedded at all levels of the party's structure, from the Politburo to the people's councils in small hamlets. Significant attention has been devoted to highlighting the National Assembly's significance as a symbol of democracy from the early 1990s. This chapter explores the National Assembly election process and recent endeavours to bolster its credibility through improvements in specific areas of its functioning.

Why Do Most Authoritarian Regimes Hold Elections?

One might argue that during wartime, military victories take precedence over elections and other democratic activities, as was the case in the United Kingdom during the Second World War when the 1940 General Election was cancelled. Nevertheless, despite the extreme conditions of constant warfare that Vietnam faced, efforts were made to ensure that elections were held in the North from 1960 until 1975, and from 1976 in a newly unified Vietnam.

In peacetime, while democratic legitimacy takes more priority, holding elections is not a trivial expense. In Vietnam, the entire electoral process is financed through the state budget, which has become increasingly expensive. Election expenses increased by 50 per cent from 2007 to 2011 and almost doubled from 2011 to 2016. The cost of the 2021 Election was roughly $59 million, 20 per cent higher than that of the 2016 Election, despite previous forecasts of 2.6 times increase in expenses. Put in perspective, the 2021 election expenses were comparable to the budgets assigned to the Ministry of Home Affairs ($49 million), the Ministry of Construction ($67 million) and the Ministry of Information and Communications ($58 million). Holding an election is one thing; maintaining the National Assembly and its representatives is another matter entirely. In 2021, the Standing Committee of the National Assembly allocated a total of $7.78 million to the National Assembly delegations of approximately 500 delegates, equating to about $15,500 per delegate per year. This amount is almost five times the GDP per capita of Vietnam in the same year.

The Party is absolute.

Being born into a family steeped in communist traditions shortly after the initiation of Doi Moi, I, like most of the children of my generation, took certain truths for granted—one being “the Party is absolute.” Our textbooks were filled with narratives of the Party's glorious victories and monumental achievements. Adults around us would scorn and even punish us for any perceived disrespect towards the Party's leaders, even if unintentional. Stepping outside, banners in bright red proclaimed, “Long live the glorious Communist Party of Vietnam.” We spent numerous days each year celebrating the Party's milestones like the birth of Ho Chi Minh, the foundation of the Party, the battle of Dien Bien Phu and the liberation of the South. Children as young as nine were required to join the Ho Chi Minh Young Pioneer Organization and don the red scarf, which represents the socialist ideology and the blood of those who fought and died for the country under the leadership of the Party.

As a naturally curious and somewhat troublesome child, I often found myself in hot water for asking questions or expressing myself in ways that were not welcomed. I vividly remember my grandfather, a veteran of the First Indochina War, furiously tearing up my innocent parody poetry about Ho Chi Minh. While my friends found it humorous, it was the first time I saw my grandfather that angry. That incident quashed my aspirations of becoming a poet.

In university, I was appointed as the political commissar of my class, likely due to my academic achievements and my family's loyalty to the Party. After graduating, I was invited to a “Party membership preparation class”, a stepping stone to becoming a full-fledged Party member. In my final report, I criticized the Party's governance and economic policies. Only one person failed that class.

Moving overseas for higher education provided me with opportunities to speak with both refugees who had fled Vietnam post-1975 and foreign scholars studying the country. Their perspectives on the Communist Party of Vietnam starkly contrasted with what I had experienced back home as many among them considered the Party to be an oppressive, authoritarian regime that subjugated the Vietnamese people while yielding to China.

To assess the level of political interest and perception of the political landscape and elections in Vietnam among its citizens, the author conducted two surveys in the weeks following the 2016 and 2021 National Assembly elections. Since people are typically more enthusiastic about politics-related issues during elections, the author expected that they would be more inclined to respond to the surveys. The author directly contacted respondents through social media and requested their participation in the survey, also asking them to refer any political enthusiasts who might be interested. The 2016 survey recorded a total of 988 valid responses while the 2021 survey recorded 385 valid responses.

Convenience sampling, a type of non-probability sampling, was utilized. In non-probability sampling, respondents are not selected in proportion to the population. Although simple random sampling is preferred, convenience sampling was chosen because there were no other feasible options. The author initially planned to acquire a list of voters of a voting district (Cau Giay District, Hanoi) using his personal connection but that was impossible given the sensitive nature of the survey.

Some limitations of this sampling method could potentially undermine the credibility of the survey. The reliance on social networks as the primary means of conducting the survey created a disproportionate impact on the outcomes, as only individuals with a social network account could be reached. In 2016, most social network users were forty years old or younger, meaning that a significant portion of the population, primarily people who were over sixty, could not be adequately included. Considering that younger individuals tend to be more open-minded, this may affect the results of the survey as a whole. Respondents are divided into two age groups: between eighteen and thirty, and over thirty. The age thirty was chosen because Doi Moi was initiated thirty years before the 2016 election. Respondents under eighteen, who are not legally allowed to vote, were excluded. As of June 2016, out of 988 respondents, 828 (84 per cent) were between eighteen and thirty, while 160 (16 per cent) were over thirty.