From Lions to Pussycats: How Power Is Taming DAP

OPINION | From Lions to Pussycats: How Power Is Taming DAP


17 Jan 2026 • 4:00 PM MYT



TheRealNehruism
An award-winning Newswav creator, Bebas News columnist & ex-FMT columnist

Image credit: MySinChew



Last month, Najib Razak’s bid to convert the remainder of his prison sentence into house arrest was dismissed by the courts. What should have been a legally unremarkable outcome quickly spiralled into a political controversy — not because of Najib, but because of how his defeat was publicly received.


DAP MP Yeo Bee Yin made a celebratory Facebook post following the decision, describing it as “another reason to celebrate this year end.” While several politicians across Pakatan Harapan — including DAP’s Tony Pua and PKR’s Wong Chen — also welcomed Najib’s misfortune, it was Yeo’s remark that drew the sharpest backlash, particularly from UMNO leaders.


The reaction was swift and visceral. UMNO secretary-general Asyraf Wajdi Dusuki warned that perhaps it was time for UMNO to reassess its cooperation with partners who failed to appreciate the party’s “contributions” to the unity government. Puchong UMNO cut ties with its Pakatan Harapan counterpart after Yeo refused to apologise. Soon after, UMNO Youth chief Akmal Saleh organised a special convention on January 3, which culminated in calls for UMNO to withdraw from the unity government altogether.


In other words, the anger directed at Yeo Bee Yin did not remain symbolic. It translated into concrete political pressure, and arguably served as the immediate catalyst for Akmal’s mobilisation against the Anwar-led government.


For weeks, however, DAP’s top leadership remained conspicuously silent.


Only now — nearly three weeks after the controversy erupted — has DAP secretary-general Anthony Loke finally come out to address the issue. Speaking in a Chinese-language podcast, Loke struck a carefully calibrated tone. He said he disagreed with Yeo’s actions but stressed that he did not reprimand her. He confirmed that he had spoken to Yeo, and added that “in hindsight, she could have handled it better.”


More tellingly, Loke framed the issue not as one of principle, but of political management.


“There is no need to ruin the party’s relationship with UMNO,” he said, adding that “like it or not,” Najib once led UMNO. Najib, he noted, is already serving his sentence, and therefore the objective DAP had set — accountability — had been achieved. “There is no need to give an extra stab,” Loke said, referring to Yeo’s remarks. She could have “rejoiced inwardly,” he added. These words, he suggested, were unnecessary.


Loke went further. While affirming that DAP has its own principles and stance, he stressed that cooperation requires communication, and communication becomes difficult when relationships are damaged. Reform, he implied, cannot proceed if allies are constantly antagonised.


This, in essence, was damage control.


On one hand, Loke was clearly trying to reassure UMNO that DAP does not intend to humiliate it or gloat over Najib’s downfall. On the other, he was careful not to publicly hang Yeo Bee Yin out to dry and alienate DAP's supporters, who are already inclined to believe that DAP has become too accommodating and and compromising since it became a part of the ruling government . The result was a statement that was deliberately ambiguous — disapproval without punishment, disagreement without discipline.



But what is perhaps most revealing is not what Anthony Loke said, but when he said it.


That it took nearly three weeks for DAP’s secretary-general to respond suggests a deeper problem: a party unsure of how it is being perceived, and uncertain about how to react. DAP appears to have spent weeks “reading the situation” — and even after all that time, still failed to arrive at a clear position.


In my view, this hesitation is not accidental. It reflects a party experiencing a quiet but serious crisis of confidence.


Since its wipeout in the Sabah state election — where its top guns lost all eight seats it previously held in Sabah — DAP has struggled to read the public mood. It likely suspects that public sentiment towards it has turned negative, but does not quite understand why. It knows it is bleeding support, but seems unsure what exactly it has done to deserve the backlash, or what it must do to regain trust.



This uncertainty explains both the delay and the ambiguity of Loke’s response. DAP needed time to assess the damage — but even after taking that time, it still could not decide which audience it was speaking to, or what message it wanted to send.


At a deeper level, this episode illustrates a structural difference between politicians from majority groups and those from minority groups.


When politicians from majority communities rise from positions of powerlessness to positions of power, their transformation is often positive. They evolve from community heroes into national leaders. Their confidence grows with authority; their sense of entitlement to lead expands.


The opposite, however, is often the case for minority politicians.


Minority politicians often shine the brightest as heroes and champions, only when they are not in a position of power.



When minority politicians move from marginality into power however, their transformation is frequently negative. Once daring and courageous defenders of their communities, they become overly cautious administrators — bureaucrats who appear to be permanently walking on eggshells, terrified of overstepping invisible boundaries.


This is precisely the dilemma that DAP, like other minority led party in the past, now finds itself in.


If leaders from the minority group like Anthony Loke are unsure why the party is losing support, this is a large part of the answer. People admire heroes — and they elevate heroes into leadership roles with the expectation that those heroes will act even more heroically once they hold power.


But when the heroes they promoted begin to behave like bureaucrats — obsessing over procedural caution, technocratic minutiae, airline ticket prices, or toilet cleanliness, or how to punish for litterbugs — people feel cheated.


They feel they were sold a promise.


They were told that if they elevated lion cubs, they would one day get lions. Instead, what they got were well-groomed, well-spoken and bureaucratic pussycats.


And no matter how competent a pussycat may be at doing a pussycat’s job, people will still demand their money back — because they never wanted a well-performing pussycat in the first place.


They wanted a lion.