How FAM's suspended sec-gen thumbed his nose at public trust

The air was thick with the scent of freshly pressed suits and manufactured importance. It was an official event – the Asean-Fifa Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) signing ceremony involving the Fifa president, the Asean secretary-general and witnessed by the Malaysian prime minister. A scene of polished tables, perfect lighting and handshakes so firm they could crack a walnut. It was designed to look like a symphony of statecraft – a polished performance of governance and integrity.

But there, seated just off-stage, was the suspended secretary-general of the Football Association of Malaysia (FAM), Datuk Noor Azman Rahman.

The man was supposed to be in administrative exile, reflecting on his choices and the mountain of legal paperwork now costing Malaysian football a fortune. Instead, he was back in the spotlight, looking like a rock band’s controversial lead singer.

This wasn’t a mistake; it was a deliberate, magnificent act of institutional swagger that proved, once and for all, that public trust in the FAM isn’t just low – it’s decomposing.

FAM didn’t merely break the rules; they set the rulebook on fire and used the ashes to write a thank-you note.

Let’s rewind. FAM has been embroiled in a scandal so grubby it makes a muddy Sunday league pitch look pristine. We’re talking about the alleged use of forged documents to grant citizenship and eligibility to seven “heritage” players.

Fifa, the world’s football authority, responded with a hammer blow – fines and a one-year ban for the players – loud enough to crack the tiles at Bukit Jalil National Stadium.

In damage-control mode, FAM did what desperate institutions do best: make a token sacrifice.

On Oct 17, it announced that the secretary-general was suspended “to ensure transparency” and to allow an independent committee to conduct a “thorough probe.”

Translated from ‘corporatese’, that means: “The public is furious, so we’re locking the most responsible person in the broom closet for a week until everyone forgets. Then we’ll call it a ‘technical error’ caused by a lonely administrative assistant.”

The official line was that the secretary-general had to “be away” until the investigation concluded. Instead, he turns up at the biggest political gathering of the month and gets recorded, smiling and giving thumbs up, with the Fifa president.

This is where hypocrisy becomes an art form. The secretary-general was meant to be on a “walk of shame.” Instead, he performed a triumphant “victory lap” on the main stage.

Look at the visuals: a man whose organisation is accused of document fraud, and who is officially suspended, basking in the glow of legitimacy. It was a power play – a thumbing of the nose at the very notion of consequence.

The message to long-suffering fans, who genuinely believed the independent committee meant serious business, was unmistakable: “Your outrage is irrelevant. Our internal rules don’t apply to us.”

It’s the political equivalent of getting caught driving a stolen sports car at 200km/h, having your licence suspended, and then showing up at the court hearing in the same stolen car. The sheer audacity is what breaks the system.

By allowing this spectacular lapse in judgment, FAM didn’t just undermine its investigation – it branded it a sham before the first question was even asked.

What legitimacy can an investigative committee claim when the man it’s meant to investigate is still mingling with those who commissioned it? None. Zero. Nil.

The problem here extends beyond football – it’s about a culture of impunity.

When a system allows a suspended official implicated in an international scandal to rub shoulders with the highest powers, it teaches everyone a terrible lesson: accountability is for the little people.

The price of this isn’t just a fine; it’s the soul of Malaysian football. FAM may think the storm will pass, but they’ve created a vacuum that will be filled with cynicism.

They have effectively told the public: “We’re incapable of policing ourselves, and we don’t care if you know it.”

The only way to end this eternal, infuriating “victory lap” is for FAM to enforce its own rules – or shut up shop and hand the reins to someone who hasn’t yet exhausted the nation’s patience.

The system didn’t just malfunction – it told everyone who cares to get lost. And honestly, at this point, who can blame them for walking away? Mic drop.

The views expressed here are the personal opinion of the writer and do not necessarily represent that of Twentytwo13.

Main image: Noor Azman (circled) seated in the second row of the Plenary Hall in the Kuala Lumpur Convention Centre for the Asean-Fifa Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) signing ceremony on Oct 26. Image by Haresh Deol/Twentytwo13