By Angie S Chin (Lead, The Vote Wisely Project, Sabah)
KOTA KINABALU: There are moments in a society when symbolism becomes louder than strategy, and public gatherings become more than just expressions of opinion—they become mirrors reflecting the state of governance itself.
The recent gathering at Padang Merdeka, calling for Sabah’s 40% tax revenue entitlement, is one such moment.
An estimated 400 citizens gathered in Kota Kinabalu to voice a demand that is not new, not unfamiliar, and not controversial in principle: Sabah’s rightful share under constitutional arrangements tied to the Malaysia Agreement 1963. The crowd, though modest in size, represented something far larger than attendance figures suggest—a recurring public insistence that longstanding issues of fiscal justice and state rights remain unresolved.
Yet alongside this expression of civic will, a deeper and more uncomfortable set of questions has emerged. Questions not only about unity and leadership presence, but about the very structure of responsibility between citizens and the state.
When Citizens Organise, and Institutions Observe
One of the most striking aspects of recent civic movements in Sabah is not simply who shows up—but who is expected to lead, yet remains absent in structural terms.
Reports indicate that only a small number of elected representatives attended the gathering, alongside a single appointed senator.
This absence, whether due to scheduling, political calculation, or institutional distance, creates a perception that cannot be ignored: that civic urgency is being carried disproportionately by citizens and NGOs, while institutional leadership remains fragmented or reactive.
But the more pressing question is not attendance alone.
It is responsibility.
Because if Sabah’s 40% tax revenue entitlement is as critical as widely stated—if it is a matter of constitutional justice, economic sustainability, and long-term state development—then why does the burden of legal pursuit and mobilisation fall primarily on the public?
Why must ordinary Sabahans crowdsource legal action to bring this matter to court?
At what point does civic advocacy become institutional duty?
The Burning Question: Why Must Citizens Pay to Assert Their Rights?
There is a difficult, almost uncomfortable contradiction emerging here.
On one hand, leaders across political lines affirm that Sabah’s rights under the federal framework must be protected. On the other hand, when it comes to concrete legal and administrative action—particularly costly and prolonged legal processes—the initiative appears to rest heavily on public fundraising, NGO coordination, and civil society mobilisation.
And this raises a fundamental question:
If the issue is truly of state importance, why is the state not structurally leading it?
It is not about whether citizens can contribute. Sabahans have repeatedly demonstrated generosity, solidarity, and willingness to support causes they believe in. The issue is not capacity—it is responsibility.
Because the public is already carrying multiple burdens: rising cost of living, wage pressures, infrastructure gaps, and economic uncertainty. To then ask the same public to also finance constitutional litigation creates an additional layer of strain that should arguably sit within institutional responsibility.
This is not a critique of civic action. It is a question about governance design.
The Parallel Concern: Postal Voting and Passive Governance
This is not an isolated issue.
A similar pattern can be observed in the long-standing concerns around Sabahans living outside the state and their access to postal voting or electoral participation mechanisms. Time and again, these issues are raised through NGOs, activists, and social movements. Yet the level of sustained, structured, state-led pressure often appears inconsistent or reactive rather than proactive.
And when state-level leadership is passive or fragmented, federal institutions face little pressure to respond urgently. Not necessarily because they dismiss the issue outright, but because the negotiating force is diluted.
In political reality, momentum matters as much as merit.
If demands are strong but scattered, they can be delayed.
If demands are coordinated and institutionally backed, they must be addressed.
So, What Should the State Government Be Doing Instead?
If Sabah’s 40% revenue entitlement is indeed a priority—and if it is framed as both a constitutional right and a development necessity—then the state government’s role should not be symbolic or occasional. It should be structural, continuous, and assertive across multiple levels.
At minimum, a proactive state government should be doing the following:
1. Leading the legal and constitutional process directly
Not outsourcing or relying primarily on public crowdfunding or NGO-led legal action. The state government should allocate dedicated legal teams, constitutional experts, and budgetary resources to pursue the matter formally and consistently. This is not a civil society issue—it is a state-federal fiscal negotiation issue.
2. Establishing a permanent bipartisan or cross-party state rights commission
A structured body that survives political cycles, ensuring continuity regardless of which party is in power. This commission should coordinate legal, financial, and policy strategies on MA63-related issues and state entitlements.
3. Coordinating unified political representation
Instead of fragmented or individual efforts, the state government should align all Sabah MPs—regardless of party affiliation—into a coordinated federal advocacy mechanism on state rights issues. The issue should transcend party identity when it comes to constitutional matters.
4. Sustained federal engagement, not episodic response
Negotiation should not occur only during crises or public pressure peaks. There should be structured, ongoing engagement with federal ministries on fiscal entitlements, with clear timelines, documentation, and accountability mechanisms.
5. Public communication with clarity and consistency
One of the reasons public frustration grows is not only due to lack of action, but lack of clarity. Citizens should not be left guessing whether legal action is underway, paused, or being reconsidered. Transparency is part of governance responsibility.
6. Reducing reliance on public crowdfunding for state rights litigation
While civic participation is valuable, core constitutional disputes involving state-federal relations should not depend on fluctuating public donations. This sets a problematic precedent where structural rights are financed like grassroots campaigns rather than state priorities.
The Deeper Structural Problem:
Who Owns the Fight?
At the heart of this issue lies a deeper governance question:
Who owns Sabah’s rights struggle?
If the answer is “everyone,” then in practice it often becomes “no one in particular.”
And when responsibility is diffused, urgency weakens.
This is how critical issues slowly drift into cycles of announcements, rallies, statements, and then stagnation—only to re-emerge again when public frustration reaches a threshold.
The citizens of Sabah are not disengaged. If anything, they are repeatedly engaged. They show up, they donate, they organise, they speak.
The question is whether institutions match that engagement with equal structural weight.
Leadership Visibility vs Leadership Responsibility
It is easy to focus on attendance at rallies as a measure of political commitment. But the deeper issue is not physical presence at one event—it is sustained institutional effort behind the scenes.
Leaders can attend every gathering and still fail to move systems.
Conversely, leaders may not always be visible at public events but can still drive structural outcomes.
The real measure is not optics. It is outcome.
And right now, the gap between public mobilisation and institutional delivery is what defines Sabah’s current challenge.
Reframing the Question of Unity
It is often said that Sabahans struggle to unite compared to Sarawak. But perhaps the more accurate framing is this: unity is difficult when structures do not reinforce it.
When advocacy is fragmented, leadership is inconsistent, and responsibility is shared unevenly between citizens and institutions, unity becomes episodic rather than enduring.
The issue is not lack of patriotism or concern.
It is lack of alignment.
Final Reflection: A Question That Cannot Be Ignored
The recent Padang Merdeka gathering should not only be remembered for its turnout or political attendance.
It should be remembered for the questions it forces into the open.
If Sabah’s 40% tax revenue entitlement is truly essential for the state’s future—if it is truly a matter of fairness, development, and constitutional justice—then why must ordinary citizens be the ones crowdfunding legal action to assert it?
What, then, is the precise function of the state government in this struggle?
Because in any mature governance system, citizens should not be the primary financiers of their own constitutional rights battles.
They should be the beneficiaries of institutions built precisely to defend those rights on their behalf.
Until that balance is corrected, Sabah risks repeating a familiar cycle: passionate citizens leading, fragmented institutions following, and structural outcomes remaining just out of reach.
And that is the question that lingers long after the crowd disperses.
Not whether Sabahans care enough—but whether the system they are trying to change is structured to carry their fight with them.
