Rafizi Ramli has gone to town attacking Anwar Ibrahim. This sharp turn
has been highly visible since Rafizi was sidelined during the PKR internal
elections, losing the Deputy Presidency to Anwar’s daughter, Nurul Izzah. For
those with a clear head and a long memory, this public onslaught begs a few
fundamental questions.
Before proceeding, let me be entirely transparent. I have been
consistently critical of Anwar Ibrahim’s suitability to become Prime Minister
since the 1990s. I have stated this clearly in my writings, talks, and
discussions for over three decades. My position has never been that he lacks
talent. Rather, his strengths are not the ones most critically required in a
Prime Minister. For more than thirty years, my assessment held true, until he
finally assumed the office in 2022.
However, I have always maintained that when an individual is given a
responsibility, they deserve a fair opportunity to prove themselves. Likewise,
when a coalition is handed the mandate to govern, it must be given the space
and time-ideally a full term-to demonstrate its capability and deliver on its
promises.
A Prime Minister is, in many ways, the CEO of a nation. The role demands
conceptual thinking, strategic clarity, the capacity to manage both today’s
crises and tomorrow’s vision, and the ability to build systems, structures, and
processes that unite diverse groups of people. It requires reducing uncertainty
and fostering trust across society. This cannot be achieved through personality
alone-which has often been Anwar’s primary modus operandi. It requires
institutional strength, a healthy administrative culture, consistency over
time, and a talented team of successors to sustain the journey.
People need to know where the nation is heading; they must trust that
today’s policy will not be contradicted tomorrow. Leadership at the highest
level is about creating stability and predictability through consistent
decisions. Anwar’s true strengths lie elsewhere. He is an exceptional
communicator, a man who can inspire and mobilize masses- a fantastic salesman.
But even the best salesperson requires a robust marketing machinery,
innovation, manufacturing, strict general management, and an effective delivery
system behind them.
If Anwar had spent his career championing reform, justice, and the
Palestinian cause strictly on the global stage, he would have excelled without
measure. My long-standing question has never been whether he is gifted, but
whether his specific gifts fit the office of the Prime Minister.
The Collective Silence
Now, let us turn to Rafizi Ramli.
I established my view on Anwar first because I do not want what follows
to be mistaken for a defense of the Prime Minister, or an endorsement of the
current administration's policies. My inquiry is much narrower: Why is the
spotlight now focused almost entirely on Anwar Ibrahim? And why now?
Rafizi speaks today as though the multi-faceted problems he highlights
can be traced solely to the Prime Minister. Certainly, Anwar bears the largest
share of accountability; that is the burden of the office. But a government is
not a one-man show. It is run by a Cabinet, a coalition, party leaders,
ministers, and senior decision-makers.
Rafizi was no bystander. For years, he was one of Anwar’s closest
political allies and among the most influential architects within PKR. He stood
beside Anwar during major political campaigns, engineered core strategies, and
shaped national narratives. He was a key player in the September 16 takeover
attempt and deeply involved in the Kajang Move. He defended and promoted the
exact positions, promises, and political arguments that are now being
questioned.
More importantly, after 2022, he moved from outside critic to inside
operator, sitting at the highest echelons of executive power as the Minister of
Economy.
This is the logical disconnect. If Anwar abandoned certain positions,
compromised on core principles, or failed to deliver on reforms, Rafizi was in
the room. He was part of the leadership team, part of the discussions, and part
of the compromises. He remained in government and continued to serve. To attack
these collective decisions now, as though they belonged solely to Anwar
Ibrahim, is difficult to reconcile with Rafizi's own history.
Where is the criticism of the other senior leaders who sat around that
very same table? Where is the accountability for senior PKR, DAP, and Amanah
leaders, or ministers like Anthony Loke, who continue to serve in government
today? If mistakes were made and promises broken, responsibility cannot be
conveniently singularized.
The timing also raises legitimate questions. Why are these criticisms
peaking only now? Why were they not articulated with this same intensity when
Rafizi held peak influence as Deputy President of PKR and a senior minister?
Consider the case of Azam Baki. Before the 2022 general election, Rafizi
repeatedly used the MACC Chief as a symbol of systemic failure. Ceramah after
ceramah created a powerful public expectation that decisive action would follow
once power was secured. Yet, when Pakatan Harapan entered government and Rafizi
became Minister of Economy, Azam Baki remained in office.
If this issue was as fundamentally non-negotiable as Rafizi suggested
before 2022, what changed after? Why was there no public ultimatum? Why was
there no resignation on principle? Why did the issue lose urgency while he was
in power, only to regain relevance after his internal party influence waned?
The same can be asked regarding UMNO. Before 2022, Rafizi aggressively
dismantled UMNO’s credibility. Post-election, UMNO became a governing partner.
Realpolitik often requires compromise, but the question remains: was the public
given a realistic picture before power was obtained, and were the same
standards applied afterward?
These are not questions asked to shield Anwar Ibrahim. They are questions
about intellectual and political consistency. Governments rise and fall as
teams. Decisions are made collectively, policies are defended collectively, and
failure must be owned collectively.
The Path to Redemption
Having said that, if I were in Rafizi's shoes, I would likely share his
frustration. As a fellow man, I can understand how political setbacks, coupled
with personal dynamics, can leave one feeling disappointed or betrayed.
Politics is one thing; family is entirely another.
Perhaps the most critical factor we must acknowledge is the abhorrent
attack directed at his young son. Most decent people will agree that children
must remain strictly off-limits in the blood sport of politics. A politician is
fair game; their children are not.
When a politician’s child is targeted, the state apparatus should leave
no stone unturned. The investigation should be visible, thorough, and beyond
reproach, regardless of whether the parent is Rafizi, Anwar, Muhyiddin, Hadi
Awang, or Anthony Loke. If Rafizi felt that this deeply personal matter was not
met with the urgency and seriousness it deserved by the authorities, it is
completely understandable why it would leave a profound, permanent scar. Such
an experience can cause any parent to radically reassess relationships,
loyalties, and politics itself.
If Rafizi has genuinely changed his mind about his past compromises and
political alliances, he should say so openly. There is no shame in admitting a
shift in position, nor is there shame in admitting one was wrong.
However, this is a broader challenge facing every politician across the
spectrum - from PKR and DAP to UMNO, Bersatu, and PAS - who promised one thing
on the campaign trail and executed another upon entering Putrajaya. How does a
politician regain public trust after disappointing the voters who believed in
them?
The answer does not lie in another podcast, an analytical thread, or a
fiery ceramah. It begins with genuine humility.
The first step is to apologize.
Not a token, calculated political statement designed to reframe the
narrative. Not an apology followed by a hundred justifications. But a real,
unconditional apology that openly states: “I promised one thing, and I did
another. I asked for your trust, and I failed to live up to it. I was wrong.”
Many voters cast their ballots, argued with friends, and campaigned based
on those foundational promises. When politicians do the exact opposite upon
gaining power, the public's feeling of betrayal is entirely valid.
Politicians who want a second chance must earn it by lowering themselves,
swallowing their pride, and asking for forgiveness with genuine remorse. I have
far more respect for a leader who stands before the nation and admits, "I
made promises I could not keep; please forgive me," than one who
spends years pretending the goalposts never moved.
Only after that vulnerability can the conversation about redemption truly
begin.
Furthermore, if leaders want voters to believe they have genuinely
reformed, they must offer a binding commitment for the future. They must assure
the electorate that if they make a promise in the next election and later find
it compromised by coalition friction or party pressure, they will not simply
sit quietly to preserve their titles.
They must be prepared to stand by their principles, speak up publicly,
and if necessary, have the courage to walk away.
Only then will the apology carry weight. Only then will voters believe
the lesson has been learned. Only then can trust begin to be rebuilt.
The ball is in your court Rafizi “ dan ahli-ahli politik yang sama waktu
dengannya 😊”
Peace,
Anas Zubedy.