By Remy Majangkim
KOTA KINABALU: As Peninsular coalitions fracture, Sabah and Sarawak hold the keys to Putrajaya. But a kingmaker bloc divided by political hesitation, rural frustration, and internal fractures risks collapsing from within.
For six decades, the narrative of Malaysian federalism was written in Putrajaya. The vast, resource-rich expanse of North Borneo was routinely treated not as an equal partner, but as a quiet hinterland—a reliable vault of timber, oil, and electoral seats whenever the political center needed stabilization.
Today, that dynamic has fundamentally ruptured. The term “Borneo Fortress” has emerged not merely as a geographic description, but as a political doctrine—a demand that Sabah and Sarawak stand united as an indispensable regional bloc capable of dictating terms rather than accepting crumbs.
Yet, behind the evocative rhetoric lies a stark journalistic reality: a fortress is only as strong as its weakest bastion.
“Equal partnership under MA63 was never meant to be a polite request negotiated every five years; it was the foundational mandate of the federation.”
1. The Math of the Finishing Line
Politically, the numbers dictate that Peninsular Malaysia can no longer form a stable federal government on its own. The parliamentary seats spanning Kuching to Kota Kinabalu hold the ultimate key to Putrajaya.
With Sarawak’s GPS holding roughly 31 seats as a fixed anchor and Sabah’s GRS and local parties commanding around 25 dynamic seats, the combined Bornean total of 56 seats easily crosses the threshold required to form a federal simple majority.
Because of East Malaysia’s time zone, votes in Borneo are counted and declared hours before Peninsular Malaysia’s tight urban contests resolve:
Sarawak acts as the Immovable Anchor: GPS provides a predictable, banked core of seats that Peninsular coalitions cannot breach.
Sabah acts as the Finishing Engine: Sabah’s fluid, multi-cornered seats are the decisive weight that pushes a coalition across the 112-seat finish line to form the Federal Government.
Without Sabah, the “Fortress” is just a single wall in Sarawak. With Sabah, it becomes an unassailable majority bloc that turns federal politics on its head.
2. Twenty Steps Ahead: Sarawak’s Hegemony vs. Sabah’s Staggering Step
However, a closer look reveals that the two towers of this fortress are being built at drastically different speeds and styles. While Sarawak operates 20 steps ahead as a self-determined power, Sabah staggers behind under the tutelage of an administration prone to hesitation.
Sarawak: Rejecting the Vassal Role
Under GPS, Sarawak explicitly rejected any subservient posture. Through total local political consolidation, it established self-executing state entities like PETROS, set up independent digital infrastructure, launched its own sovereign wealth fund, and aggressively asserted fiscal independence. Sarawak did not wait for Putrajaya’s consent to exercise its constitutional rights under MA63—it charted its own path and built its own house.
Sabah: The “Tasteless” Blandness of Bureaucratic Inertia
Sabah, in contrast, remains caught in a delicate web of domestic fragmentation, defensive federal alignment, and a flat, bland blend of tasteless endeavors.
Sabahans are exhausted by endless announcements, framework launches like Sabah Maju Jaya (SMJ), and technical committee updates that yield little noticeable change on the ground. When federal leaders point to annual budget allocations as proof of federal care, they intentionally blur a critical constitutional distinction: standard development allocations are routine federal obligations, not a substitute for Sabah’s non-negotiable 40% net revenue entitlement under Article 112C.
To local voters tired of rhetoric, explaining why Sabah takes a “different path” than Sarawak sounds like an apology for underperformance rather than a compelling vision.
3. Ground Sentiments & The Reject-Malayan-Party Mandate
A political fortress built purely for parliamentary math will eventually crumble if it loses touch with the grassroots.
Across rural heartlands—from Tambunan and Keningau to Ranau—voters face daily operational friction. Beyond navigating unpaved timber roads and complex diesel quota apps, Sabahans endure severe structural deficits: chronic water supply disruptions, an unstable electricity grid, and agonizing delays along the Pan-Borneo Highway project. For citizens grappling with these daily survival challenges, abstract slogans about “stability” ring hollow. When state leaders point to multi-year master plans and slow-moving technical negotiations with Putrajaya, the electorate views it not as diplomacy, but as a delaying tactic to run out the clock before ballots are cast.
This institutional inertia stands in stark contrast to the legal domain. When DAP and Pakatan Harapan leaders in Sabah withdrew their landmark High Court lawsuit seeking the constitutional 40% net revenue entitlement after entering government, it signaled a preference for backroom negotiation over judicial enforcement. It fell upon non-partisan civil society—most notably the Sabah Law Society (SLS)—to soldier on through the courts to demand binding judicial enforcement. This contrast demonstrated to voters that while political committees drag their feet, independent legal action remains the only force capable of setting firm timelines.
This experiment with Peninsular-based national parties, particularly DAP, has failed to shine as expected. Bound by federal party discipline and central executive councils in Kuala Lumpur, national parties have repeatedly compromised on core Sabahan rights when federal power was at stake.
This internal decay mirrors the broader national critique raised by former DAP leader P. Ramasamy regarding his former party’s “reinvention.” Ramasamy argues that the national DAP leadership has abandoned its foundational principles, falling into a trap dictated by the “3Ps”—power, positions, and perks—which has blunted their opposition edge and turned them into quiet government partners. Consequently, local voters see that when push comes to shove, Malayan party central commands will always choose Putrajaya’s survival over Sabah’s constitutional entitlements.
However, growing regional sentiment alone will not guarantee victory. If local regionalist forces (Warisan, KDM, GRS factions, and independent fronts) enter the election fractured, endless multi-cornered fights will split the local vote, handing advantage back to Peninsular-controlled coalitions. The sentiment on the ground is crystalizing: Sabah must chart its own path, reject Peninsular political parties outright, and present a single, consolidated front.
Conclusion: Plugging the Hole From Within
Heading into GE16, the choice facing Sabah’s political class is stark. The math proves Sabah holds the finishing line, but mathematical power is meaningless without internal cohesion and true regional sovereignty.
For the Borneo Fortress to hold, Sabah must satisfy three non-negotiable lines in the sand:
Enforce the 40% Revenue Schedule: Reject federal development grants as substitutes for Article 112C, and pivot immediately from endless committee reviews to a binding, transparent payment schedule for state revenue retention.
Mandate Regional Policy Customization: Require federal initiatives like BUDI MADANI to automatically adapt to Sabah’s geographic realities—and resolve foundational utility deficits in water, power, and road infrastructure—rather than forcing local logistics to adapt to Putrajaya.
Forge an Uncompromising, Purely Sabahan Front: Reject Peninsular political interference, end self-destructive multi-cornered vote splitting among regional forces, and form a cohesive, unshakeable local electoral alliance that refuses to run the state as a vassal.
Ultimately, Putrajaya cannot break Sabah’s leverage unless Sabahan parties allow themselves to be divided. Sabah needs uncompromising local unity to plug the hole from within—it’s that simple.
Until local leaders close ranks, reject federal tutelage, and stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Sarawak, the fortress remains unfinished, and Sabah’s true power remains unfulfilled.
The mandate of our people across North Borneo has never been clearer: Misumpuru Tokou Savi-avi — let us unite, all of us together — and, side-by-side with our Bornean brothers across the border, Agi Idup, Agi Ngelaban — as long as we live, we shall fight.
