https://www.sinarharian.com.my/article/782859/khas/pendapat/siapakah-yang-bakal-menerajui-malaysia-pascapru16
Followers
Monday, June 8, 2026
Saturday, June 6, 2026
RAFIZI RAMLI AND ANWAR IBRAHIM: A Question of Collective Responsibility
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.
Tuesday, June 2, 2026
THE FORTY AHSAN AL-HADITH PROJECT
For the last few years, I have been researching, reflecting upon, and
collecting a set of Qur'anic verses that have profoundly shaped my life. Today,
I am finally ready to begin sharing them.
The working title is:
Forty Ahsan al-Hadith
Forty Qur'anic Verses That Shaped My Life
Over the coming months, I will be sharing forty Qur'anic verses that have
inspired, guided, challenged, comforted, and shaped me throughout my life.
This is a project that has been quietly taking shape in my mind and
research over the last few years.
The Qur'an has accompanied me through poverty and prosperity, success and
failure, certainty and doubt, youth and old age. Like many Muslims, I have
turned to its guidance in moments of joy, confusion, gratitude, and hardship.
Every verse of the Qur'an is important. Every verse contains guidance,
wisdom, and signs for those who reflect.
This project is therefore not about discussing the basic teachings of
Islam as we commonly know them today. Rather, it is about sharing forty
Qur'anic verses that have had a profound impact on my own life and
understanding.
These are the verses that have shaped me as a son, sibling, friend,
corporate professional, entrepreneur, Malaysian, and Muslim. They have
influenced how I think, how I lead, how I relate to others, and how I
understand and practise my faith and my place in the world.
I hope to share these reflections not only with Muslims, but also with
non-Muslims, agnostics, and atheists. You do not have to agree with my
conclusions to join the conversation. Curiosity, reflection, and respectful
dialogue are enough.
Some readers may notice the title uses the phrase Ahsan al-Hadith
(Ø£َØْسَÙ†َ الْØَدِيثِ). The title comes from the Qur'an itself.
Allah says:
"Allah has sent down the best Hadith (Ø£َØْسَÙ†َ الْØَدِيثِ): a
consistent Book wherein is reiteration. The skins shiver therefrom of those who
fear their Lord; then their skins and their hearts relax at the remembrance of
Allah. That is the guidance of Allah by which He guides whom He wills. And one
whom Allah leaves astray, for him there is no guide."
(Qur'an 39:23, Saheeh International)
In this project, I will use the spelling Hadith when referring to
the Qur'anic term hadith, meaning discourse, narrative, speech, or
message. When referring to the collected sayings and traditions of Prophet
Muhammad ï·º, I will use the spelling Hadeeth. This is simply a writing
convention to help readers distinguish between the two usages.
This project is not intended to be a formal work of tafsir. However,
wherever relevant, I will draw upon classical and contemporary tafsir, Qur'anic
scholarship, and the Arabic language itself. I plan to explore root words
within each verse, drawing from Qur'anic dictionaries and linguistic sources to
better understand the meanings, nuances, and insights embedded in the text.
I will also examine how the Hadeeth literature has understood, explained,
or related to the verses under discussion. Where relevant, I will explore what
the major Hadeeth collections and broader Islamic scholarly discussions have
said about a particular verse and its application.
These reflections will therefore be personal, but they will also be
informed by the rich intellectual tradition that Muslims have inherited over
the centuries.
In many ways, this project is also an invitation to spend more time with
the Qur'an itself. Not merely to recite it, but to reflect upon it, engage with
it, learn from it, and allow it to shape the way we see ourselves and the world
around us.
Why Forty?
I chose the number forty because I am inspired by the Arba'in
tradition in Muslim history. Beginning as early as the second and third
centuries of Islam, Muslim scholars started compiling collections of forty
Hadeeth on various themes for the benefit of the community.
Among the earlier examples were collections associated with scholars such
as Imam Abdullah ibn al-Mubarak (8th century CE / 2nd century AH). The
tradition continued to grow through the works of scholars such as Imam
al-Ajurri (10th century CE / 4th century AH) and Imam al-Bayhaqi (11th century
CE / 5th century AH), among many others.
The most famous of all is undoubtedly the Forty Hadeeth of Imam
al-Nawawi (13th century CE / 7th century AH), a work that continues to be
studied throughout the Muslim world today.
Those collections gathered forty sayings of the Prophet ï·º. This project
seeks to draw inspiration from that tradition by gathering forty verses from
the Qur'an itself, which Allah describes as Ahsan al-Hadith (The Best
Hadith).
There were collections of forty Hadeeth before Imam al-Nawawi, and many
more after him. For nearly a thousand years, Muslim scholars have used the
Arba'in format to gather and share teachings they believed would benefit the
community. I see this project as a humble attempt to draw inspiration from that
rich tradition, but this time based on the Qur'an, which Allah Himself
describes as Ahsan al-Hadith.
Most importantly, these are my forty Ahsan al-Hadith (Ø£َØْسَÙ†َ
الْØَدِيثِ), forty Qur'anic verses that have profoundly impacted my life. You
may have a different forty. In fact, I hope you do.
One of my hopes is that this project will encourage other Muslims to
identify and share their own forty Ahsan al-Hadith from their own list of
Qur'anic verses that shaped their lives.
Imagine a lawyer writing about the forty Qur'anic verses that shaped his
understanding of justice.
Imagine a teacher sharing the forty verses that influenced her approach
to education.
Imagine doctors, engineers, scientists, entrepreneurs, civil servants,
artists, AI specialists, social workers, and parents reflecting on the verses
that guided them in their respective fields and life journeys.
Each person's forty may be different. Yet together, they would
demonstrate the timeless ability of the Qur'an to speak to human beings across
different professions, cultures, experiences, and generations.
One of the goals of this project is therefore to encourage all of us to
reflect on which verses have most influenced our own lives. Which verses have
shaped our character, our decisions, our relationships, our understanding of
God, and our understanding of ourselves?
The Qur'an repeatedly invites us to think, reflect, observe, learn, and
engage with the world around us. That invitation is open to everyone.
I look forward to sharing this journey with you, one verse at a time, and
perhaps inspiring you to discover your own Forty Ahsan al-Hadith.
As always, I welcome your thoughts, feedback, questions, disagreements,
and suggestions. If a particular verse has profoundly shaped your life, I would
be delighted to hear about it.
Peace,
Anas Zubedy
The first Ahsan al-Hadith will be shared soon.
Question: If you had to choose just one Qur'anic verse that has most influenced
your life, what would it be and why?
UEC – ENVISIONING A MORE UNITED MALAYSIA
Part 3 of “The UEC: Another
Vote-Baiting Issue?”
In Part 1 of this series, "The UEC: Another Vote-Baiting
Issue?", I argued that the UEC issue has often been used as a
political football rather than approached as a genuine policy challenge.
In Part 2, "Malaysian Voters: Are We Thinkers or Suckers?",
we applied the first step of the ZUBEDY DEAR Method: Define Reality. We
examined the actual policy changes, looked at the numbers involved, and
discovered that the issue is far more nuanced and limited than the emotionally
charged narratives often presented by politicians and their supporters.
Before we move to the next step of the DEAR Method, namely Envision, two
important points should be noted.
First, while the number of UEC students directly affected by the recent
policy change may ultimately involve only a couple of hundred students
annually, the issue remains important. These are fellow Malaysians and
citizens. More importantly, affordability matters. For lower-income UEC
graduates, alternative pathways often come with significantly higher costs,
while students from wealthier families generally have more educational options
regardless of government policy.
Second, we cannot meaningfully discuss a more united Malaysia by looking
only at UEC students. Any serious conversation about educational pathways,
opportunity, and national unity must also include students from tahfiz
institutions, pondok and madrasah schools, as well as other non-mainstream
education streams. A united Malaysia must work for all Malaysians.
Having defined reality, we can now move to the next step of the DEAR
Method: Envision.
E – ENVISION
In envisioning a better future, one of the most important things we must
do is inspire ourselves and fellow Malaysians with a bright vision that
provides hope. Hope is critical because without hope, Malaysians become
cynical. We stop looking for solutions and start looking for someone to blame.
We begin to see every issue as another reason to fear, distrust, or oppose one
another.
Hope allows us to see possibilities. It allows us to believe that
Malaysians can become more united, whether they come from the national
education stream, UEC schools, or religious schools such as tahfiz, pondok, and
madrasah institutions. Hope moves us beyond arguments and towards solutions.
Once we have hope, we can identify specific mission areas that deserve
our attention. We can focus on education, re-learning, training, communication,
and building greater understanding between communities. Instead of arguing
endlessly about problems, we begin making new plans.
However, envisioning must not remain merely as documentation or wishful
thinking. A meaningful vision requires human touch. It must connect with the
hopes, concerns, and aspirations of ordinary Malaysians. It must be practical
enough to eventually translate into action.
Most importantly, envisioning a better future generates new energy. It
allows us to build on whatever strengths we already possess, however small they
may seem. We work from our niche.
And Malaysia has many strengths. We have decades of experience living in
a diverse society. We know how to compromise. We know how to negotiate
differences. We know how to work together despite our many races, religions,
cultures, and languages. We have not always done it perfectly, but we have done
it often enough to know that it can be done.
The purpose of envisioning is therefore not to dwell on what divides us,
but to build on what unites us.
The challenge for Malaysia has never been whether we should have
diversity in education. Educational diversity has existed for decades and is
likely to continue. The real challenge has always been how to balance
educational diversity with a common national framework that helps unite
Malaysians.
In my view, the answer is unity without uniformity.
Today, it is neither realistic nor practical to expect every Malaysian
child to study under one roof or attend the same type of school. Malaysia has
evolved significantly since Merdeka. Multiple educational pathways are now
deeply embedded in our society and are likely to remain so for the foreseeable
future.
The question therefore is no longer whether multiple educational pathways
should exist.
The real question is whether we can achieve the best of both worlds.
Can we preserve educational diversity while strengthening national unity?
Can we allow different educational pathways to flourish while ensuring
that every Malaysian acquires certain common foundations by the time he or she
reaches adulthood?
In my view, the answer must be yes.
Every Malaysian should have a reasonable command of Bahasa Malaysia. We
do not expect every Malaysian to be fasih in Bahasa Malaysia. However,
every Malaysian must be able to menguasai Bahasa Malaysia sufficiently
to communicate, work, interact, and participate fully in national life.
Likewise, every Malaysian should have a deep understanding of Malaysian
history and feel personally connected to it. History is not merely about
examinations, dates, or memorising events. It is about understanding how our
nation was formed, the sacrifices that were made, the compromises that were
reached, and the challenges that continue to shape us today.
More importantly, every Malaysian should be able to see Malaysian history
as part of his or her own personal story. While we may celebrate our various
ancestral, cultural, religious, or civilisational histories, our common
national history must remain Malaysian history. We should not project another
country's historical narrative onto Malaysia. Instead, we should understand
Malaysia on its own terms, through its own experiences, struggles,
achievements, and aspirations.
But perhaps even more important than language and history is social
interaction.
The earlier Malaysians interact with one another, the better.
One of the challenges of UEC schools, religious schools, and certain
private schools is that students often spend most of their formative years
within relatively homogeneous environments. As a result, many have fewer
opportunities to mix with Malaysians from different races, religions, cultures,
and socioeconomic backgrounds.
For a country like Malaysia, this is not ideal.
Unity is not built through slogans. Unity is built through relationships.
It is built when Malaysians study together, play together, eat together, travel
together, work together, and solve problems together.
It is difficult to fear someone you know well. It is difficult to dislike
someone whose home you have visited, whose food you have tasted, whose stories
you have heard, and whose friendship you value.
If our vision is a more united Malaysia, then one of our priorities must
be to create opportunities for Malaysians from different educational streams to
interact meaningfully with one another as early as possible. We should not wait
until they enter the workforce before they begin discovering fellow Malaysians
from different backgrounds.
If such interaction cannot happen fully at the school level, then it
should happen at the university level. The earlier the better. If not at
university, then through structured national programmes, community activities,
volunteerism, sports, leadership initiatives, and other platforms that bring
young Malaysians together.
The objective is simple: create opportunities for Malaysians to know one
another before stereotypes and misunderstandings become deeply entrenched.
Whether they come from a UEC school, a madrasah, a tahfiz institution, a
private school, or a national school, no Malaysian should grow up without
meaningful interaction with the rich diversity that makes Malaysia unique.
Every Malaysian should leave school with a reasonable command of Bahasa
Malaysia, a deep understanding of Malaysian history, meaningful interaction
with fellow Malaysians from different backgrounds, and a strong sense of
belonging to this nation.
The pathway may differ, but the destination should remain the same.
That, in my view, is the vision worth pursuing.
This concludes Part 3 of this article series.
In Part 4, we will move to the next stages of the DEAR Method: Action and
Reflection. Having defined reality and envisioned a better future, the next
question becomes: What practical actions can we take to move Malaysia in that
direction, and how do we continuously assess whether those actions are
producing the outcomes we seek?
Peace,
Anas Zubedy
MALAYSIA : RULERS AND CONSTITUTIONALISM by Arof Ishak
An argument is going round that Malaysia is a constitutional democracy, that the monarch cannot issue decrees ‘which legislate all aspects of our lives’, and that the monarch’s domain is strictly the Malay customs, Islam and a few ‘constitutional roles’. This is an argument raising the supremacy of political theory, alone - that the Constitution is supreme.
But, a Constitution is founded on a particular history and associated with a founding society. The Malayan Constitution rolled out in 1957 (which later founded the Malaysian Constitution) was a gift of the Malay Rulers to their people, whereby the Rulers consented to reign as constitutional monarchs, giving up their hitherto position as ‘absolute’ rulers. In other words, the Constitution was ‘created’ by the Malay Rulers; the Constitution did not create the Malay Rulers. Thus, while we proclaim ‘supremacy of the Constitution’, we should not disengage from the whole society and its history.
The founding (Malay) society reveres the Rulers as payung, whose presence completes the Malay society as a sovereign entity, apart from being protective, inspiring unity, and providing guidance. Thus, the domain of the Rulers is beyond the Constitution, not being above it. Thus, teguran of the Rulers are not infringement of the Constitution. The Constitution is part of the founding society, not apart from it. The Malaysian Constitution is shaped by the society, and its history. The Malaysian Constitution is sui generis. Our Constitution is not libertarian individualism, as that is not the form of our society, which is collectivist; nor is it a Westminster one either, where parliament created the constitution and the monarchy.
There is reverence for the Malaysian Constitution, just as there is also for the founding society. One cannot have reverence for the Malaysian Constitution by rejecting the nature and essence of the founding Malay society.
The Rukun Negara, often cited alongside the Constitution, is that expression of the founding society too, in a simpler form. The fifth and concluding principle of the Rukun Negara (kesopanan dan kesusilaan) is in fact the ruling principle, as it guides to the understanding and practice of the four preceding principles. Thus, the third principle of keluhuran perlembagaan wherein the position and powers of the monarchy is appreciated, requires an appreciation that is sopan and bersusila, not sheer written legalism. Harshly questioning the position, rights and privileges of the Rulers, and in public, is the worst possible un-sopan (a biadab) scenario, an assault on the founding Malay culture itself.
Constitutionalism without decorum is hardly noble.
Arof Ishak
29 May 2026
NOTE - Arof is a friend who does not have Socmed accounts. So, I am sharing his thoughts on the subject.