The post-election reality check that Malaysia needs

2 weeks ago 8
ADVERTISE HERE

At Sabah’s Atkinson Clock Tower, the clock is unseen — just like the reforms that Malaysians are still waiting to witness. — The Borneo Post photo

ANALYSTS, party leaders, political influencers, and every Tom, Dick, and Harry with a phone and a social media account, have performed their own autopsy on Sabah election results.

That state election, which concluded last week, saw an almost wipe-out for peninsula-based parties.

Pakatan Harapan (PH) only managed to secure one seat through PKR, while Perikatan Nasional (PN) won one through PAS.

DAP, which contested in eight seats, were totally wiped out.

So instead of adding one more post-mortem to the list, I think it is more meaningful to look at what came after the defeat — and what it means for Malaysia.

Three days after the ballots were counted, DAPs top leadership went into a five-hour meeting and emerged with a dramatic pledge; that reforms would be delivered within six months.

The exact words from the party’s secretary-general Anthony Loke, I quote: “After thorough reflection, we will compile all feedback received and work closely with the Prime Minister to accelerate the reform agenda over the next six months.

It was a statement meant to show urgency, seriousness, and contrition.

Instead, it opened the floodgates of public scepticism.

The reactions on social media and commentaries came fast, sharp, fierce and with no mercy.

I pick some here:

“Three years cannot do anything, now six months can?”

“If you can fix reforms in six months, were you sleeping on your job earning tax-paying money for the past three years?”

“Are we supposed to believe this again?”

These comments may sound cynical, but behind them lies the truth that Malaysians have reached our limit with promises that come only after a political tsunami.

They are tired of governments, be they Barisan Nasional (BN) or PH, treating reforms like fire extinguishers that got pulled out only when the house was burning.

These remarks reflect the real story of the post-Sabah mood — it is not loss of seats, but loss of trust in the government and the system after being trapped in a cycle of reform pledges for more than two decades.

Every time there is a by-election loss, a state election setback, and a sudden shift in sentiment, the word ‘reform’ would resurface like a national déjà vu.

We have heard of the ‘100-Day’ promises, the ‘Reset Malaysia’ agendas, the ‘Unity Government’ blueprints, and countless other declarations, but the promises have never been delivered.

Malaysians take reforms as something of a ritual, big words after defeat, small steps during power, and silence after victory.

To say that political leaders do not care is probably a sweeping statement.

But coalition governments, factional negotiations and bureaucratic inertia make reforms difficult to push through.

Promises are easy — delivery is difficult.

Delivery in six months? Almost impossible, unless we first acknowledge why reforms fail in the first place.

Every reform requires consensus, and consensus is expensive.

Every change disrupts someone’s power, and those someone pushes back.

Every new law triggers new fears — about race, religion, rights and identity.

Every bureaucratic reform hits the wall of culture, not paperwork.

So the real question today is not ‘can DAP or the government deliver reforms in six months’.

The real question, in my humble analysis, is whether our system is designed to let reforms succeed.

The temptation is to treat Sabah as a ‘Sabah issue, but this election was not simply about local candidates, local parties, or local dynamics.

It was also about national credibility.

Sabahans did not just reject parties — they rejected broken promises; they rejected lack of visible reform.

And they are right. How can leaders spend three years manoeuvring, negotiating, and firefighting political dramas, and then announce a six-month miracle plan?

Sabah has long been the barometer of national sincerity.

People there know what unfulfilled reforms feel like. They have lived with the consequences of federal hesitation and administrative neglect.

Even with the Prime Minister, on the eve of election day, promising that the federal government would immediately implement Sabah’s 40 per cent revenue claim, Sabahans did not take it seriously.

So in many ways, Sabah’s verdict was a national referendum, a warning shot across the bow of Putrajaya.

Let us be fair. Not all reforms require massive, structural overhauls.

There are important reforms that can be delivered within six months, if the political will is sincere and genuine.

Let’s name a few.

A political financing law that improves transparency; establishing the ombudsman for public service complaints; stronger, clearer media freedom guidelines; procurement transparency reforms; accelerating Sabah and Sarawak decentralisation commitments; cost-of-living improvements that reach people’s daily lives and allowing reasonable time for small-medium enterprises (SMEs) to adjust to introduction of new tax rules.

These are achievable.

But there are other reforms that can never be done in six months, and that Malaysians should tolerate and accommodate.

These are constitutional amendments; rewriting the electoral system; overhauling the judicial-appointment process; reforming police and enforcement structures; restructuring the civil service; tackling deep corruption culture; and redrawing constituency boundaries.

These require courage, clarity, and long-term stability.

So when leaders pledge six-month reforms, it is vital that we ask which reforms, and how, and with what political capital, and are they cosmetic or structural.

Malaysians no longer judge leaders by their words.

They judge them by their ability to deliver without needing electoral shocks as motivation.

In villages, coffee shops, and online spaces, the sentiment is similar: do not give us a deadline; give us results.

This trust deficit is now Malaysia’s biggest political crisis.

It is bigger than the Sabah defeat, bigger than coalition arithmetic, and bigger than vote swings.

Trust, once lost, is not recovered by setting a countdown clock.

Trust is rebuilt by consistency, transparency, and the courage to do what is right even when it is unpopular.

Instead of asking whether reforms can be done in six months, let’s ask these 5 Ws and 1 H as in the foundational information for a news story:

“Who are the people involved in the reform, and who objected?

“What are the action to take place, and what held them back?

“Where should it begin?

“When to expect results for each action?

“Why were they not done earlier?

“How can reforms be insulated from political fear?”

Reforms should not be a fire drill triggered by defeat.

They should be a continuous, disciplined commitment.

If the Sabah loss jolted Putrajaya into sincerity and urgency, then perhaps the pain was not wasted.

Six months can be both a short time and a long time — short for systemic reform, but long enough for meaningful beginnings.

If leaders choose courage over calculation, six months could be the start of something real.

But if this is another ritual offering to appease public anger, then it will only deepen the nation’s fatigue.

Because after almost three years in power, the ‘rakyat’ (people) have a simple, honest message: if six months is enough now, it should have been enough then.

Or, it being said more sharply: reforms need political will, not political fear.

Malaysia does not need another promise.

Malaysia needs resolve.

Read Entire Article