SABAH’S BIGGEST THREAT ISN’T GPS – ITS’ OUR OWN DISUNITY

By Angie S ChinLead – The Vote Wisely Project

KOTA KINABALU: For a state that prides itself on identity, autonomy, and resilience, Sabah has an uncanny habit of arguing with itself just when it matters most.The latest spark? Rumours swirling across social media that Gabungan Parti Sarawak (GPS) may extend its political footprint into Sabah ahead of the next general election. Predictably, reactions have split into familiar camps. Some Sabahans welcome the idea—perhaps even with a sense of relief. Others reject it outright, chanting the now ritualistic call: “Stick to local Sabah parties.”But pause for a moment. What exactly do we mean by “local Sabah parties”?Because if we’re being honest, even Sabahans themselves can’t seem to agree.

THE ILLUSSION OF “LOCAL”

On paper, the idea sounds simple—Sabah should be governed by Sabahans, for Sabahans. But scratch beneath the surface, and the definition begins to fracture. For some, “local” means 100% Sabahan leadership. For others, it quietly comes with conditions—race, district, background. The criteria shift depending on who is speaking and who stands to gain.So, when Sabahans demand unity under “local parties,” what they often mean is unity under their preferred version of local.And that’s where the problem begins.Because a fragmented understanding of identity makes it nearly impossible to build a unified political force. It creates silos, not solidarity. Preferences, not principles. And in that vacuum, something else quietly thrives—division.

Like clockwork, as elections approach, certain issues resurface with renewed intensity. Chief among them: illegal immigrants and the stateless population in Sabah.The tone sharpens. The rhetoric escalates. The blame circulates.And yet, the outcome never changes.This issue, deeply rooted and undeniably complex, dates back decades—long before modern immigration frameworks were properly enforced. Sabah’s geographical proximity to the southern Philippines meant movement across borders was once fluid, almost routine. Over time, political decisions—including controversial initiatives during the era of Mahathir Mohamad—complicated the landscape further.Attempts were made to formalise and document these populations. Some worked, briefly. Others stalled. Ideas like digital identification systems—forward-thinking even by today’s standards—were proposed but never meaningfully pursued.Today, we are left with a lingering issue that every political cycle promises to “finally resolve,” yet somehow never does.So the question must be asked: why does this narrative reappear so reliably, yet progress remains so elusive?Perhaps because unresolved issues are useful. They are emotional. They are divisive. And most importantly, they are effective tools for ensuring that Sabahans remain preoccupied with each other rather than united in demanding systemic change.A cunning plan, indeed.

THE REALITY OF POWER

Some Sabahans argue that any affiliation with Peninsular-based parties inevitably shifts power away from the state. And they’re not wrong.When headquarters sit elsewhere, so too does ultimate decision-making authority. Even with the best intentions, the chain of command leads back to where the power is concentrated. Sabah, in such arrangements, risks becoming an executor rather than a driver.This is precisely where Sarawak has taken a different path.Under leaders like the late Stephen Kalong Ningkan and Adenan Satem to Abang Abdul Rahman Johari Abang Openg, Sarawak made a deliberate choice early on—to limit the dominance of Malaya-based parties within the state. This wasn’t accidental. It was strategic.The result? Greater internal control over policy direction, stronger bargaining power with the federal government, and a clearer, more unified voice when asserting state rights.Sabah, by contrast, has struggled to maintain that same cohesion.

SO, IS GPS A THREAT OR AN OPPORTUNITY?

Here’s where the conversation becomes uncomfortable.The potential entry of GPS into Sabah isn’t just a political development—it’s a mirror.On one hand, GPS represents a coalition that has demonstrated relatively stable governance and a long-term vision for state development. Their track record in Sarawak has earned them credibility, whether one agrees with their politics or not.On the other hand, their presence in Sabah raises a difficult question:If Sabahans truly believe in local leadership, why hasn’t that leadership united effectively on its own?Because the truth is, Sabah does not need GPS to tell it what to do.But Sabah also hasn’t proven it’s leadership—at least not consistently—that they can do it alone. 

For decades, Sabah has cycled through leaders, coalitions, and promises. Yet many of the state’s core issues remain unresolved—from the Malaysia Agreement 1963 (MA63) rights, to the continental shelf dispute, to the long-standing claim over 40% revenue entitlement.These are not new problems. They are inherited ones.But what’s missing isn’t awareness. It’s execution.There is a growing perception—fair or not—that Sabah’s current political landscape produces more announcements than actual implementation. Grand plans are unveiled. Committees are formed. Statements are issued.And then, SILENCE.In that vacuum, something interesting has happened.NGOs, activists, and ordinary citizens have begun stepping into roles traditionally occupied by political leaders. They are the ones pushing for reform, raising awareness, even crowdfunding legal challenges.Think about that for a moment.When the people start doing the work of those in power, it’s no longer just a governance issue—it’s a credibility crisis.

A TALE OF TWO STATES

Not long ago, 23 NGOs in Sarawak collectively pushed for electoral reforms, including the delineation of polling areas and improved postal voting access for Sarawakians living outside the state.Sound familiar?Sabahans have been calling for similar measures for years.The key difference lies in what happens next.If the federal government responds swiftly to Sarawak’s demands, it will reinforce what many already suspect—that political leverage matters, and that unity amplifies it.If Sabah struggles to achieve the same outcomes, the question will not just be why, but what have we failed to build internally that weakens our position externally?

THE RISK OF EMBARRASSMENT

Here’s a scenario worth considering.If Sabahans—out of prolonged frustration—begin to embrace GPS more readily than their own local parties, what message does that send?It won’t just be a political shift. It will be a statement.A statement that local leadership has failed to inspire confidence. That unity was promised but never delivered. That differences, egos, and fragmentation ultimately outweighed the collective good.And yes, it would be embarrassing.Not because GPS entered Sabah—but because Sabah allowed itself to reach a point where that entry felt like a necessary alternative.

TIME FOR AN HONEST REFLECTION

Sabah’s challenges are real. Its history is complex. Its demographic and geopolitical realities are unique.But complexity cannot become an excuse for stagnation.At some point, the question becomes less about who should lead Sabah—and more about what kind of leadership Sabah is willing to accept.The late Lee Kuan Yew once said:“Whoever governs Singapore must have that iron in him. Or give it up. This is not a game of cards.”It’s a harsh statement. But perhaps that’s the point.Because leadership, at its core, is not about slogans, affiliations, or election cycles. It’s about resolve. Clarity. The ability to make difficult decisions and see them through.So, here’s the uncomfortable question Sabah must confront:Do we have leaders with that kind of iron will?Or are we still negotiating definitions, revisiting the same narratives, and waiting for someone else—be it GPS or anyone else—to show us what unity looks like?Sabah doesn’t lack potential. It lacks alignment.And until that change, the real question isn’t whether outsiders will come in.It’s whether Sabah will ever become strong enough that it doesn’t matter if they do.