IN Edward Albee’s masterpiece, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, the central question is not about a literal predator – the Big Bad Wolf – but a psychological one: Who is afraid of living life without false illusions? The play’s characters, George and Martha, cling to elaborate, alcohol-fuelled fantasies to mask the rot in their marriage and the stinging failure of their personal ambitions.

In the play, the final act involves the killing of an imaginary son that the infertile couple had created to sustain their fragile union. This child was the glue that kept them together, a shared myth that allowed them to ignore their mutual resentment.
For Umno Youth Chief Dr Akmal, the imaginary son is the notion of a harmonious and permanent Madani coalition. His escalating calls for Umno to leave the government represent a demand for a political exorcism. The Merlimau assemblyman is telling his party that the Unity Government is a facade that has failed to protect the party’s core identity or its red lines. To him, staying in this marriage with the DAP and PKR is an illusion that only serves to mask Umno’s declining influence among its traditional Malay-Muslim base. He argues that by remaining, the party participates in a charade that will ultimately lead to its extinction.
However, a balanced view requires us to look at the other side of the stage, occupied by the pragmatists or survivalists.
The play ends with Martha whispering her deep-seated fear of reality to her husband George, as the couple seemingly decide to remain in their marriage. For the Umno leadership, the reality of leaving the government is also not seen as liberation but as a potential suicide mission. Umno president Datuk Seri Ahmad Zahid Hamidi has consistently played the role of the seasoned pragmatist or survivor, wary of the chaos that follows when political illusions are shattered.
Speaking on Jan 6, Ahmad Zahid reaffirmed the party’s commitment to the Madani government, stating that national stability must take precedence over personal or popular agendas. Coincidentally, two days later, the Attorney-General’s Chambers officially classified his Yayasan Akalbudi case as “No Further Action” (NFA).
By framing Dr Akmal’s exit strategy as a personal opinion rather than party policy, the deputy prime minister is essentially trying to keep his Umno house intact. Arguably, he fears that without the illusion of incumbency and the resources it provides, the party has nowhere left to go in a fragmented political landscape.
The tension lies in how one defines the Big Bad Wolf. For Dr Akmal, the wolf is the slow erosion of the party’s soul. He sees the Unity Government as a trap in which Umno is compelled to compromise on fundamental issues – ranging from the Datuk Seri Najib Razak’s house arrest addendum to broader matters of Malay unity imply maintaining the status quo.
In the Umno Youth chief’s view, the real predator is the loss of Malay support while Umno remains anchored to an unnatural coalition. He posits that it is better to be a dignified opposition than a subservient partner. His push for a special convention held on Jan 3, during which he tabled motions for Umno to withdraw from the government and reunite with PAS, was a deliberate attempt to force the party to choose between the comfort of the living room and the harshness of the outside world.
For Ahmad Zahid and the party’s top leadership, the Big Bad Wolf is the loss of political relevance and the stability required to govern a multi-ethnic Malaysia. They argue that Akmal’s return to reality – which likely involves a potential reunion with PAS – is simply trading one illusion for another.
Shattering the Unity Government might lead to a reunion of the ummah. Still, it could also lead to total isolation from the moderate and non-Malay voters required to win a general election. Ahmad Zahid’s stance suggests that in politics, reality is often whatever allows you to maintain power and prevent the country from sliding into further polarisation.
Albee, the playwright, once said that the play was about the ability to confront one’s reality. As 2026 progresses, the drama within Umno mirrors the final act of Albee’s play. The Umno Youth chief, the one shouting that the sun is coming up and the games must end, is ready to kill his son to save himself. The Umno president, meanwhile, is trying to keep the curtains drawn, arguing that the light outside might be more blinding and destructive than the familiar comfort of the room.
Ultimately, the conflict highlights a fundamental split in political philosophy: Is it better to live in a functional illusion that offers power and stability, or to face a devastating truth that offers the slim hope of rebirth?
Whether Umno dares to leave the living room of the Madani government and face the cold morning of the opposition, or remains anchored to the pragmatism of its current alliance, remains the defining question of its modern history. Like Martha at the end of the play, the party may find that once the illusions are gone, the only thing left is a terrifying, empty silence.
In the play’s haunting final lines, George softly sings, “Who’s afraid of Virginia Woolf?” Martha’s whispered reply is the sound of a soul finally stripped of its pretences: “I am, George. I am.”
I’ll paraphrase the final lines to: “Who’s afraid of Akmal Saleh?”
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