By Anonymous Legal Practitioner
KOTA KINABALU: Datuk James Ligunjang JP strongly criticises Remy Majangkim’s article.
Ligunjang focuses on legal details and parliamentary rules.
He is right that accuracy in constitutional issues matters. But calling Majangkim’s work “partisan fan fiction” is to risk ignoring Majangkim’s crucial points.
Majangkim’s view raises important issues. He talks about the gap between strict law and real politics.
He discusses the spirit versus the exact words of the Constitution. He highlights how fragile democratic wins can be. We need a balanced look, not just a dismissal of everything one disagrees with.
The Coalition Conundrum: Legal Form vs. Political Substance
Ligunjang makes the point that Majangkim’s reading of Article 6(7) is too simple legally. Coalitions like Barisan Nasional are legally registered parties.
They are both coalitions and parties of their own right. Past examples, like the 1967 USNO-SCA coalition, show coalitions are normal.
Ligunjang is correct about the legal right of coalitions to form governments. But does that accord with the constitutional definition of ‘party’?
But Majangkim’s main worry was not the existence of coalitions. It was about their stability when GRS formed the government in 2020. Calling GRS an “informal alliance” hits on something important. Ligunjang skips this.
There is a difference. A pre-election coalition (like the old BN) is registered and united. A post-election group (like early GRS) is often quickly thrown together to get enough seats. Majangkim’s point (maybe badly put legally) was about GRS’s real situation.
It was fragile. It had components that were not in 100% agreement. It lacked a clear pre-vote mandate.
Ligunjang talks about what the law ‘allows’. Majangkim questions the democratic fairness and true intent of a government formed this way.
This is especially true when the party that won the most seats (plurality) is pushed out. It is less about misreading the law. It’s more about asking if the rules stop opportunistic deals that ‘steal election results’.
Defining “Majority”: Arithmetic vs. Confidence
Ligunjang is technically right. “Majority” for forming a government means more than half the seats. Warisan’s 23 out of 73 seats was only a plurality, not a majority. This created a hung assembly.
A crucial part comes next. Article 6(3) applies here. Ligunjang says Majangkim ‘missed’ this.
fan fiction” is also charged. Majangkim used terms like “backdoor government” and “held hostage”. This is strong language.
But it reflects a common view in Malaysia. Many people see governments formed by post-election switches as illegitimate. For example, the Sheraton move.
There was nothing constitutional about it and even less legality to it. Yet the MPs had no courage to challenge this illegality. You know why? Some of them profited from it.
Ligunjang prefers neutral terms like “coalition arithmetic” and “hung assembly”. Majangkim’s language shows the feeling that such moves are unfair, undemocratic, unconstitutional and against the rule of law.
Dismissing this as “sensationalism” ignores public simmering anger and the real danger it poses to the constitution and rule of law.
Events like the 2020 Sabah crisis made people feel that democracy in Sabah is broken. Majangkim’s strong words represent that frustration.
The rakyat see these manoeuvres as cheating the spirit of democracy and the rule of law, even if they are technically legal.
Conclusion: Imperfect but Insightful.
J. Ligunjang JP’s critique focuses on minor flaws. He spots minor legal mistakes in Majangkim’s article. Especially regarding the formal rules for coalitions and defining “majority”.
Ligunjang is right about the TYT’s role under Article 6(3). He’s right about the confidence vote option. But he fails to ask himself this question: is that role to be exercised to uphold the rule of law or political backroom dealings in the name of a ‘majority’?
And again, calling Majangkim’s whole analysis “flawed and misrepresentative” misses the point.
Majangkim forces us to see problems the strict rules don’t fully fix:
Election wins can be stolen by reps switching parties later.
A solid pre-vote coalition is different from a shaky post-vote deal.
The TYT’s choice under Article 6(3) is very political during a crisis.
People get angry when governments form through deals, not votes.
Majangkim’s analysis, even with its errors, is important and is a catalyst for real-world issues and the establishment of a government under the rule of law. It challenges just reading the law word-for-word, devoid of its spirit: quite like dissecting a dead body. It reminds us that constitutional politics is about rule of law, fairness, democracy, and how rules meet real crises.
Legal precision matters for commentators.
But understanding the political reality Majangkim describes is just as crucial for Sabah’s complex situation. His article isn’t just “storytelling”.
It’s a passionate, if imperfect, look at real tensions in Sabah’s democracy. It deserves serious attention. Its good points should be discussed, even while fixing its legal mistakes.
