By Dr Rahim Said
If Malaysia were running a Sesame Street reboot this past week, the letter of the week would not be A for Anwar or Amorin, or M for Maduro or Madani. It would be a bold, unapologetic Z.
Z as in “Z, He Lives!”
Z as in Zorro, the masked bandit who rides away just when you think justice has finally cornered him.
Z as in Zorba the Greek, dancing on the ruins of expectations.
And perhaps most accurately, Zoudini — the greatest escape artist since Houdini, except this one didn’t need chains, locks, or a water tank. Just patience, timing, and friends in very high places.
Yes, last week’s Z belongs to Zed, a man who stared into the abyss of nearly two score and more criminal charges — and somehow emerged not chastened, not diminished, but reborn. Like a phoenix. A very well-connected phoenix.
In most countries, one charge is a career-ending scandal. Two is a resignation. Three is exile. Almost 50 is usually reserved for Netflix true-crime documentaries with ominous background music and a voiceover that says, “What the jury didn’t know was…”
In Malaysia, almost 50 criminal charges are apparently just a long résumé.
Zed’s political journey has now completed the full hero’s arc:
• Fall from grace
• Public humiliation
• Courtroom cliffhanger
• Triumphant return, greeted by loyalists who see not a man spared by technicalities, but a martyr vindicated by destiny.
To them, Zed is not a defendant. He is Zorro, carving a victorious “Z” across the legal system before disappearing into the night — mask intact, horse well-fed.
His party, affectionately nicknamed “Unlimited Money Never-ending Opportunities”, wasted no time rewriting the narrative.
This was not an escape; it was proof. Proof that Zed was always innocent. Or misunderstood. Or targeted. Or chosen. The explanation shifts, but the applause remains constant.
One must admire the optimism. Where critics see questions, supporters see miracles. Where others see institutional embarrassment, they see divine intervention.
In a multiracial, multireligious nation, Zed has achieved something rare: a cross-cultural consensus that Z stands for “Zero consequences.”
And let’s not forget the supporting cast. Every great escape act needs accomplices — the assistants who smile nervously while the magician slips out the back. This was not a solo performance. This was Cirque du Soleil-level choreography, performed under the banner of reform, stability, and the ever-versatile word “pragmatism.”
The result? Zed doesn’t just walk free. He walks taller.
In the eyes of his followers, he has crossed the desert and returned with tablets — not of law, but of political survival. He is living proof that in Malaysian politics, it’s not about how many charges you face, but how long you can wait them out.
So yes, this past week belonged to Z.
Z for Zed.
Z for Zorro.
Z for Zoudini.
And perhaps, most fittingly, Z for “Zaman sudah berubah” — a time where accountability is optional, memory is short, and survival is the ultimate moral philosophy.
Class dismissed. Same alphabet next week.
The views expressed here are entirely those of the writer