By Rajah Murugaiah
When Singapore left Malaysia in 1965, its parliamentary seats were absorbed by Malaya, leaving Sarawak and Sabah underrepresented. Former Speaker Tan Sri Azhar Azizan Harun may dismiss the 35 per cent claim as “political narrative”, but the truth is this: silence in MA63 was never a licence for Malaya’s dominance. Justice demands the restoration of East Malaysia’s rightful voice in Parliament.
WHEN former Dewan Rakyat Speaker Tan Sri Azhar Azizan Harun, better known as Art Harun, declared recently that the Malaysia Agreement 1963 (MA63) never stipulated that Sarawak and Sabah should hold 35 per cent of parliamentary seats, he was doing more than indulging in a lawyer’s technicality. He was, wittingly or not, reframing the entire historical bargain upon which Malaysia was built.
Azhar went further, insisting that there is nothing in MA63, the Malaysia Act, the Federal Constitution, or even the Intergovernmental Committee (IGC) Report that says Singapore’s parliamentary seats, after its separation in 1965, must be handed to Sarawak and Sabah.
“If there is such a clause, point it out,” he challenged. Otherwise, he dismissed the 35 per cent claim as nothing more than “political narrative”.
At first glance, his statement sounds authoritative. After all, lawyers thrive on textual certainty. But here’s the problem: if Azhar’s logic is applied consistently, then there is equally no clause stipulating that Singapore’s vacated seats must be absorbed by Malaya. Yet that is exactly what happened — without consultation, without fairness, and without regard for the federal balance envisioned at Malaysia’s birth.
And that, Mr. Azhar, is where your argument collapses. The redistribution was not neutral; it was a political act that entrenched Malaya’s dominance while disenfranchising Sarawak and Sabah. To now turn around and demand a “magic clause” from us is disingenuous. It is, bluntly put, a lawyer’s trick deployed to disguise an injustice.
Let us revisit the starting point. When Malaysia was formed in 1963, the Dewan Rakyat comprised 159 seats: Malaya held 104, Sarawak 24, Sabah 16, and Singapore 15. Together, the three new partners of Sarawak, Sabah, and Singapore controlled 55 seats, or about 34.6 per cent of Parliament.
That figure was not coincidental. It was a carefully calibrated safeguard. The one-third allocation gave the Bornean states and Singapore enough weight to block any constitutional amendment that could erode their autonomy. In other words, this was not charity; it was a structural guarantee embedded in the federation’s design.
The architects of MA63 understood the danger of Malaya’s numerical superiority. Hence the principle: no unilateral amendments without the consent, explicit or implicit, of the new states.
Two years later, Singapore left the federation. Fifteen seats were suddenly vacant. What was the right and logical step? To preserve the founding balance, those seats should have been redistributed to Sarawak and Sabah. That would have ensured they still held around one-third of parliamentary representation.
Instead, the opposite occurred. Malaya quietly absorbed the advantage. Over time, with new delimitation exercises, Sarawak and Sabah’s share dwindled further. Today, the two states combined hold only about 25 per cent of seats in the Dewan Rakyat.
A buffer intended to protect autonomy was dismantled not by debate or negotiation, but by default. Malaya took what it wanted, and East Malaysia was left weakened.
So let us be clear: this was no innocent omission. It was a breach of spirit, a violation of trust, and an act of political centralisation.
Azhar now tells us that there was no explicit clause in MA63 mandating a reallocation Sarawak and Sabah. That may be true! The exact words are not there. But this literalism is a fallacy for three reasons.
First, constitutional compacts are not mere checklists of clauses. They embody negotiated bargains, principles, and understandings. The spirit of MA63 matters as much as the text, just as the Federal Constitution is interpreted not only by its words but by its structure and intent.
Second, if silence is the test, then Malaya too had no legal basis to claim Singapore’s seats. Yet Malaya did. Why is silence used as a shield only when Sarawak and Sabah seek fairness, but ignored when Malaya expands its power? This double standard exposes the bias in Azhar’s stance.
Third, safeguards are not always spelled out in blunt formulas. The original allocation itself, that is one-third to the three new states, was the safeguard. Once Singapore left, the duty of good faith demanded that the safeguard be preserved, not dismantled.
Supporters of Azhar’s view often argue: “Show us the clause.” But Sarawak and Sabah do not need to show magic words. The evidence is in the history: the 18-point and 20-point agreements submitted by Sabah and Sarawak demanded autonomy and protection; the IGC Report explicitly acknowledged the need for safeguards against Malayan dominance; the allocation of one-third of seats at formation was itself the safeguard; and academic authorities, including Professor James Chin, affirm that the intent was precisely to prevent Malaya from commanding a constitutional monopoly.
The betrayal is plain: when Singapore exited, Sarawak and Sabah’s shield was stripped away. And this was done without consultation, a breach of the very partnership Malaysia was supposed to represent.
This is not academic hair-splitting. Representation equals power. With only 25 per cent of seats today, we are structurally incapable of blocking constitutional amendments. They are permanently outvoted, regardless of how united their MPs may be.
The consequences are profound, namely their capacity to defend oil and gas rights, immigration control, and native land protections is weakened; their ability to negotiate fair development budgets is curtailed; and their role as equal partners in the federation is symbolically and practically diminished.
In effect, Sarawak and Sabah have been reduced to junior states, not equal partners. That was never the deal.
Azhar’s “no clause” argument is a rhetorical sleight of hand that shifts the burden entirely onto the East Malaysians. But fairness requires the burden to be shared.
If Malaya could assume Singapore’s seats without a clause, then Sarawak and Sabah can equally demand their restoration without one. The principle is simple: what was lost by one partner must not become the permanent gain of another.
It is time to stop treating East Malaysia as the perpetual petitioner, forced to beg for scraps of representation. Hello, we are partners, not supplicants.
The time has come to restore the one-third representation. This is not a plea for charity. It is a demand for justice, anchored in history, equity, and the very legitimacy of Malaysia as a federation.
Failure to do so will deepen the sense of betrayal. It will feed the perception which is already strong among Sarawakians and Sabahans that Malaysia is less a partnership than a Malayan project. And it will fuel centrifugal forces that undermine national unity.
Those who dismiss this as mere “political narrative” underestimate the depth of resentment. People remember promises broken, safeguards eroded, and rights diminished. They will not accept lectures from leaders who twist silence into licence for dominance.
So let us answer Azhar Harun plainly. No, there is no explicit clause demanding that Singapore’s seats be given to Sarawak and Sabah. But neither is there a clause demanding that they be given to Malaya. And yet Malaya took them!
The silence in MA63 was not meant to justify appropriation. It was a gap to be filled by fairness, good faith, and respect for equal partnership. Instead, it became an opening for dominance.
Restoring the one-third, or at least 35 per cent, share for East Malaysia is therefore not a political narrative. It is the restoration of justice. It is the honouring of a compact. And it is the only way Malaysia can claim to be a true federation of equals, not a union of masters and juniors.
Anything less is betrayal, period!
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 rajlira@gmail.com
