Ban the sakau fellas for life!

“If the wealthiest people in society are politicians, that society is fundamentally corrupt.”

ARE we becoming a country where corruption is condemned from political platforms, denounced in religious sermons and criticised at official functions, yet the very disease continues to eat away at the nation’s foundations?

We hear endless declarations about integrity, accountability and good governance, but the steady procession of corruption investigations, court cases and financial scandals suggests that too many people entrusted with public responsibility have apparently mistaken their positions for licences to sakau whatever they can.

I am sick and tired of hearing politicians preach about honesty while corruption scandals continue to surface around institutions that are supposed to protect public wealth and national interests. What is even more frightening is the possibility that Malaysians are becoming so accustomed to these scandals that another billion-ringgit controversy barely raises an eyebrow before everyone returns to discussing race, religion and political personalities.

Corruption is not merely another criminal offence that can be conveniently addressed through occasional arrests, public relations exercises and impressive speeches about reform. It is a malignant cancer which, if allowed to spread unchecked, will eventually destroy public confidence, cripple national institutions, frighten away honest investors and rob future generations of opportunities that rightfully belong to them.

Look at the names that have dominated Malaysia’s financial scandals and governance controversies over the years such as 1Malaysia Development Berhad (1MDB), FELDA and Lembaga Tabung Haji. Not every controversy involving these institutions constitutes proven corruption, but their collective history of investigations, financial irregularities and governance failures should have taught us one unforgettable lesson: public money becomes dangerously vulnerable when political influence overwhelms accountability.

Yet the lessons appear to have been conveniently forgotten, judging by the continuing investigations involving politically connected individuals, public officials and corporate personalities entrusted with enormous financial responsibilities.

Prime Minister Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim deserves recognition for making the fight against corruption a central part of his administration’s reform agenda and for supporting action against influential personalities. However, I would tell Anwar that his efforts, however commendable, are still insufficient because Malaysia requires fundamental legislative changes that will make corruption not merely dangerous but permanently ruinous for anyone contemplating it.

Let us begin with the most important principle: corruption involves both the giver and the taker, and both must face the full consequences of their criminal conduct. There would be far fewer opportunities for corrupt officials to enrich themselves if businessmen, contractors, intermediaries and corporate executives knew that offering bribes could destroy their careers, businesses and reputations permanently.

Why should we concentrate our anger on the politician who accepts millions while treating the businessman who supplies those millions as merely an unfortunate participant in a questionable transaction? The giver is frequently the architect of the corrupt bargain, purchasing contracts, licences, concessions and political influence while ordinary Malaysians pay inflated prices for inferior services and abandoned promises.

Malaysia already has laws addressing bribery on both sides, including corporate liability provisions, but enforcement must be strengthened and punishment made sufficiently severe to deter repeat offenders. I propose that Parliament seriously consider legislation permanently disqualifying individuals convicted of serious corruption from contesting elections, holding political appointments, occupying senior public positions or serving as directors of companies entrusted with public money.

Some will undoubtedly describe this proposal as merciless, but I would ask whether mercy towards convicted sakau fellas should take precedence over the welfare of millions of innocent Malaysians.

Serving a prison sentence should not automatically entitle a person convicted of corruption to return to the same corridors of power where the original betrayal occurred. Rehabilitation deserves recognition, but regaining personal freedom and regaining the privilege of controlling public resources are entirely different matters, especially when the integrity of national institutions is at stake.

Such legislation must, of course, distinguish proven criminal conduct from politically motivated accusations, with disqualification imposed only after conviction and the exhaustion of appropriate legal processes. Otherwise, we risk replacing corruption with another injustice, allowing powerful politicians to weaponise allegations against their opponents while escaping scrutiny themselves.

What makes the present situation particularly disturbing is the apparent inability of some political leaders to recognise the difference between defending a colleague and defending wrongdoing. Party loyalty has become such a powerful obsession that supporters sometimes appear prepared to excuse almost anything, provided the person involved belongs to their preferred political camp.

That brings me to the courageous Universiti Malaya student, Ummi Umairah Bakhit, who recently confronted politicians with uncomfortable questions about corruption. Facing Johor Menteri Besar Datuk Onn Hafiz Ghazi, Selangor Menteri Besar Datuk Seri Amirudin Shari and former health minister Khairy Jamaluddin, she demonstrated more willingness to challenge established political thinking than many seasoned politicians.

Ummi raised controversies involving Tabung Haji, allegations concerning payments to a politician’s son and public fundraising to help former prime minister Datuk Seri Najib Razak settle a substantial court fine. Her questions were not merely about individual personalities but about the disturbing culture of political worship that encourages Malaysians to defend convicted leaders.

Khairy responded that wrongdoing must never be defended, even when it involves one’s own political leaders. Fine words indeed, Khairy, but Malaysians deserve something more convincing than another declaration of moral principles from politicians who know perfectly well that their credibility must ultimately be measured through action.

Amirudin welcomed the younger generation’s growing concern about corruption, observing that the issue had not always determined electoral outcomes despite becoming significant during the 2018 political upheaval. That observation exposes another uncomfortable Malaysian reality: too many voters continue placing racial identity, religious sentiment and partisan loyalty above competence and integrity.

Onn Hafiz described corruption as a cancer obstructing national development, an assessment with which I wholeheartedly agree because the disease has already inflicted enormous damage on Malaysia’s reputation. But if corruption is genuinely a cancer, why are our political leaders not collectively demanding the strongest possible legislative surgery instead of repeatedly prescribing speeches, slogans and another round of promises?

I would like the three gentlemen to answer one straightforward question: will they support permanent disqualification from positions of public trust for individuals convicted of the most serious corruption offences? Their answers would tell Malaysians considerably more about their commitment to integrity than another hundred speeches declaring that corruption is unacceptable.

We should also stop pretending that religious instruction, moral education and elaborate integrity campaigns can independently rescue a country whose institutions tolerate dishonesty. When the rewards of stealing public money remain enormous and the consequences appear manageable, even the most beautifully delivered sermon will struggle against the temptation of instant wealth.

Singapore’s reputation for relatively clean administration offers lessons in credible enforcement, institutional discipline and the consequences of misconduct, although no country is completely immune to corruption. We need not imitate every foreign approach, but it must develop a political culture in which disgrace follows proven betrayal rather than being conveniently erased by electoral victories, influential friendships or carefully orchestrated public sympathy.

The government must introduce stronger political financing transparency, effective asset recovery, independent oversight of public institutions and meaningful protection for whistleblowers. Above all, the law must pursue the sakau fellas without regard to party affiliation, official rank, corporate influence or proximity to those occupying the highest offices.

Please don’t misunderstand my position: this is not a campaign against any particular political party, ethnic community or individual, but against the systematic betrayal of public trust. Whether the offender wears an expensive suit, carries a religious title, holds a prestigious award or commands thousands of supporters, a corruption conviction must carry consequences proportionate to the damage inflicted.

We cannot afford another generation of leaders who preach integrity in the morning, defend compromised colleagues in the afternoon and attend lavish dinners with politically connected businessmen at night.

Enough of the hypocrisy, enough of the excuses and enough of the endless sandiwara: amend the laws, punish the givers and takers, recover the stolen wealth and permanently shut the doors of public power to convicted sakau offenders.

The views expressed here are those of the columnist and do not necessarily represent the views of Sarawak Tribune. The writer can be reached at [email protected]