‘Fresh leadership does not automatically guarantee better governance. But the possibility of change keeps leaders accountable. When there is a clearly defined end point, leaders are encouraged to focus less on political survival and more on legacy, reform and institution-building.’
POWER, once attained, is rarely surrendered willingly.
History – both global and local – reminds us that leaders often enter office with promises of reform, restraint and renewal, only to discover that time in power has a way of changing priorities.
What begins as service can slowly turn into entitlement. What starts as leadership can, if left unchecked, harden into permanence.
That is why the Prime Minister’s recent announcement that the government will introduce a law to cap the premiership to two terms or 10 years deserves careful attention – not merely as a political headline, but as a statement about how we choose to govern ourselves.
If passed, the Bill would mark a significant shift in Malaysia’s political culture.
It signals an important acknowledgement that leadership, no matter how capable or well-intentioned, must have limits.
Not because leaders are inherently untrustworthy, but because systems must be designed to outlast individuals.
In explaining the proposal, Prime Minister Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim framed it simply: no public office should be held indefinitely.
The Chief Secretary to the Government cannot serve for decades. Senior civil servants rotate. Institutions refresh themselves.
The same principle, he said, should apply to the highest political office in the land.
It is a straightforward argument – but one with deep implications.
A term limit is, at its core, an act of humility by the system. It recognises that no single leader has a monopoly on wisdom, energy or ideas.
It reframes leadership not as ownership of power, but as stewardship – a responsibility held temporarily, then handed over.
For Malaysia, where political dominance has historically been associated with longevity rather than transition, this is not a small cultural shift.
For decades, stability was often equated with the same faces, the same names, the same structures staying in place for as long as possible.
Yet stability without renewal can quietly slide into stagnation.
Fresh leadership does not automatically guarantee better governance. But the possibility of change keeps leaders accountable.
When there is a clearly defined end point, leaders are encouraged to focus less on political survival and more on legacy, reform and institution-building.
That said, as we welcome the principle of term limits, it may be worth asking whether the discussion should also consider the question of balance.
Two terms or 10 years is a strong and symbolic benchmark. But governing a nation – especially one like Malaysia, still very much a work in progress – is rarely a short-distance sprint.
Deep reforms – whether in education, economic restructuring, institutional independence, or long-term transitions such as energy and climate adaptation – often require more than a decade to fully take root.
Perhaps, then, the conversation could explore whether a cap of three terms or a maximum of 15 years might offer a more balanced middle ground.
Such a limit would still prevent the entrenchment of power and guard against political permanency. It would still ensure leadership renewal.
But it would also recognise that continuity, when earned democratically and exercised responsibly, can play a constructive role in seeing long-term policies through.
Importantly, a three-term cap does not guarantee extended tenure. Leaders would still need to win elections, maintain public confidence, and remain accountable to Parliament and the electorate.
The cap would simply acknowledge that time, when bounded and monitored, can sometimes be an asset rather than a liability.
The real question, then, is not whether power should be limited – that principle is sound and necessary – but how best to design those limits so they balance renewal with stability, accountability with effectiveness.
The timing of this proposal also matters. It comes alongside other long-awaited governance reforms: the separation of the Attorney General and Public Prosecutor roles, the establishment of an Ombudsman with broader powers, and the introduction of a Freedom of Information law.
Taken together, these initiatives point to a broader shift – one that seeks to strengthen institutions rather than personalities.
An Ombudsman gives citizens a formal channel to question authority. FOI laws open decisions to scrutiny.
Separating prosecutorial powers reduces conflicts of interest. And term limits prevent power from becoming personalised.
None of these reforms, on their own, will magically fix governance.
Laws can be diluted. Intentions can be compromised. Implementation remains the true test.
But intent still matters.
It matters that a sitting Prime Minister is prepared to advance a reform that would apply not just to future leaders, but to the office itself.
It matters that the national conversation has shifted from how long one can rule to how leadership should responsibly transition.
Limiting national leaders to two terms has both advantages and disadvantages, particularly in developing political and economic systems.
On the positive side, term limits reduce the risk of excessive power concentration in a single individual. They help prevent authoritarian drift, encourage political renewal, and make leadership succession more predictable and peaceful.
By ensuring regular leadership turnover, term limits can strengthen democratic norms, improve accountability, and reduce the likelihood that state institutions become personal tools of long-serving leaders.
They also incentivise leaders to perform well in office, knowing they will eventually be judged by the public and history.
However, two-term limits can also create challenges. Long-term national development often requires sustained policy direction, yet leadership changes can disrupt reforms, delay major infrastructure projects, and weaken investor confidence.
In systems with fragile institutions, new leaders may reverse policies for political reasons rather than economic logic, leading to inconsistency and inefficiency.
Term limits may also encourage short-term thinking, with leaders prioritising visible, quick gains over deeper structural reforms whose benefits extend beyond their tenure. Additionally, when leadership quality is high, enforced turnover can remove effective leaders before their vision is fully realised.
In the end, the true measure of leadership is not how long one stays in office, but the strength of the system one leaves behind.
A confident nation does not fear leadership change. A mature democracy does not depend on permanent figures for stability. It trusts that institutions, values and rules – not individuals – are what hold the country together.
Perhaps this proposed law is less about limiting power, and more about redefining it.
Power is not defined by how long one holds on to office, but by the courage to step aside – and the wisdom to leave behind a system strong enough to endure.
And that, indeed, is something worth pondering.
The views expressed here are those of the writer and do not necessarily represent the views of Sarawak Tribune. The writer can be reached at drnagrace@gmail.com.
