Politics is a game of power, and identity is the most effective tool

 The more each community fears the other, the easier it becomes for politicians to position themselves as the protector of their own community.

From Ti Lian Ker

Identity politics was not created by one side, and it cannot be blamed on voters alone. It is a political instrument used by different parties at different times to mobilise their respective constituencies.

Pakatan Harapan (PH) now says that identity politics contributed to its defeat in Negeri Sembilan. There is some truth to that, but it is incomplete if PH presents itself as merely the victim of identity politics.

The uncomfortable question is: who created, cultivated and benefitted from identity politics in the first place?

The answer: politicians across the political spectrum.

Umno has, at various periods, mobilised Malay fears and grievances. The message is essentially that Malays must remain united because their political, economic and cultural position is constantly under threat.

During Dr Mahathir Mohamad’s long tenure, the Chinese community was sometimes used as a convenient political punching bag whenever Malay support needed to be consolidated. The rhetoric varied according to circumstances, but the political formula was familiar:

Create a threat → generate fear → rally the community → strengthen political support.

But the story does not stop with Umno.

DAP also developed its own version of identity politics. For years, its political narrative highlighted the unequal treatment of non-Malays and portrayed the Chinese and other minorities as victims of discrimination and an unfair political system. Their repeated soundbite was: “MCA is to blame for this.”

That narrative resonated because there were genuine grievances. But politically, it also had the effect of reinforcing a Chinese-versus-Malay political consciousness.

PAS took another route.

Its political argument has frequently centred on the need to strengthen Islam’s position in government and society. It has challenged the interpretation of Malaysia’s constitutional framework, including the relationship between Islamic law and civil law, and has argued for a greater political role for Islam.

Again, there are legitimate ideological arguments behind this.

But when political parties turn these issues into electoral mobilisation, religion and identity become political currency.

And what happens to ordinary Malays?

The Malay voter is repeatedly told: “You must unite, otherwise you will lose your rights.”

Malay voters are given various forms of assistance, privileges, subsidies, contracts and political “dedak” – enough to create the feeling that the political system is protecting them.

But the bigger question is: how much of the nation’s wealth actually reaches ordinary Malays, and how much is captured by the political and business elite?

This is where the conversation becomes uncomfortable.

Malaysia has seen numerous major scandals and controversies involving enormous sums of public money from 1MDB, where billions of ringgit were misappropriated according to court findings and investigations, to controversies involving Felda, Mara, Tabung Haji, procurement and government-linked entities.

The ordinary citizen may receive a small benefit and be told: “See, the government is protecting you.”

But if billions are lost through corruption, mismanagement or politically connected dealings, the ordinary Malay is not necessarily the biggest beneficiary of Malay political dominance.

Someone else may be eating the much bigger “dedak”. And this is precisely why identity politics can be so effective.

It keeps people arguing over who belongs to which race or religion, while the more important question is:

Who controls the money and who benefits from political power?

So did both sides play the divide?

Yes! Although not necessarily in exactly the same way.

Umno traditionally mobilised Malay insecurity. DAP mobilised minority grievances and fears of Malay dominance. PAS mobilised Islamic identity and fears about the direction of the country.

And each narrative could reinforce the other.

When one side says: “The Malays are under threat.”

The other side can respond: “The Chinese are under threat.”

And both sides then become politically dependent on the existence of the threat.

That is the paradox.

The more each community fears the other, the easier it becomes for politicians to position themselves as the protector of their own community.

Which brings us back to Negeri Sembilan. Blaming the Negeri Sembilan result simply on “identity politics” is too convenient.

If PH wants to understand why it lost support, it should ask a harder question: why did identity politics become so politically effective again?

Perhaps because Malays were successfully reminded of their fears and insecurities. Perhaps because Chinese voters were simultaneously reminded of their own fears.

And perhaps because after years of political uncertainty, voters are increasingly voting according to perceived security and identity rather than political labels.

But there is an even bigger lesson. Identity politics is profitable for politicians, but expensive for the rakyat.

It keeps the Malays worried about the Chinese. It keeps the Chinese worried about the Malays.

It keeps Muslims worried about secularism. It keeps non-Muslims worried about Islamisation.

And while everyone is busy protecting their respective communities, the political class can continue competing for control of the state and its resources.

The rakyat are given “dedak” to feel protected.

The politicians fight over the “periuk nasi”.

And perhaps the real question for Malaysia is no longer, “Which race is winning?” Rather, it is: “Who is really winning from all this racial and religious politics?” - FMT

Ti Lian Ker is a former deputy unity minister and ex-MCA vice-president.

The views expressed are those of the writer and do not necessarily reflect those of MMKtT.