“If anyone asks us to surrender our rights, I’ll be the first to oppose.“
– Tan Sri Bernard Dompok, ex-chief minister
DEMOCRACY is supposed to provide clarity, direction and meaningful choice. But every now and then, we encounter an election so bloated, so chaotic, that it forces us to question whether freedom has been stretched beyond its intended purpose.
The 17th Sabah State Election is one such moment. With a staggering 596 candidates from 23 political parties and 74 independents contesting 73 seats, this is not merely an election. I see it as an unprecedented political carnival. Never before in Malaysian history have we seen a state election of such scale, congestion and contest saturation.
My Sabah colleague sees it as an ‘election circus’, and I couldn’t agree with him more.
Some may defend this spectacle as a celebration of choice. But look closely and you will see something else: a fragmented, unfocused contest where the ballot paper resembles a crowded marketplace and where the voters’ ability to discern credible candidates from opportunists is stretched thin. In such an environment, democracy does not flourish, it suffocates.
The numbers alone tell a remarkable story. Tulid tops the list with a 14-cornered fight, followed closely by Bandau, Inanam, Tamparuli and Kapayan, each featuring 13 candidates. Banggi and Moyog have 12 each. Four seats record 11-way battles, nine seats will see 10 contenders each, while another ten seats have nine-cornered fights.
Even the so-called “smaller” constituencies are crammed with eight, seven, six, five or four candidates. And the most shocking revelation: not a single seat in Sabah is witnessing a straight fight. Not one. The entire electoral map is a tangled web of names, symbols and hopefuls, all jostling for attention.
When such overcrowding happens, it becomes nearly impossible for the average voter to make an informed decision. Instead of clear choices, voters face a bewildering menu of unfamiliar names and logos. In many constituencies, the eventual winner may well secure victory with barely 25 to 30 per cent of the votes, thanks to rampant vote-splitting. When leaders are elected on fractions, not majorities, their mandate becomes questionable and the legitimacy of the entire exercise becomes diluted.
Then comes the financial dimension, one that the Election Commission (EC) will surely appreciate. Every candidate must place a RM5,000 deposit. Historically, Malaysia has seen most independents and ‘parti nyamok’ or mosquito party hopefuls fail to secure the minimum votes needed to retain their deposits.
If we take a conservative estimate, assuming three-quarters of the 596 candidates lose, that means about 447 candidates will see RM5,000 each vanish into EC’s coffers. That adds up to a whopping RM2,235,000 in forfeited deposits. In all likelihood, this too will be a national record.
While the EC may smile at the revenue surge, Sabahans and Malaysians at large should be concerned that elections are increasingly becoming a playground for those with money to burn, or those being bankrolled by unseen sponsors. We don’t have to be a rocket scientist to determine who these sponsors are.
And this brings us to one of the ugliest realities of Malaysian elections: the strategic planting of candidates. Let’s not pretend it doesn’t happen. When you see such an explosion of contestants, many with no party machinery, no track record, no political relevance and no grassroots connection, the question becomes unavoidable. Who is sponsoring them? Why are they contesting? What is the real agenda?
Seasoned observers know the answer. Many of these candidates, especially those representing the ‘mosquitoes’ or newly minted parties, are often fielded not to win but to split votes. They serve as spoilers, diluting support for a rival party or candidate. In some contests, it only takes a few hundred votes to alter the outcome.
When you have 10 or 12 candidates on the ballot (reminds me of Indian elections where the ballot papers may have nearly 20s), a well-timed sponsored candidacy can shift the entire balance. And in Sabah, where political loyalties and alliances shift with remarkable fluidity, such tactics are hardly surprising.
The involvement of Malayan parties adds another layer of intrigue, but these ‘parti Malaya’ have been around in Sabah for some time, so nothing new. However, this time around even Sarawak-based parties are contesting in Sabah, namely Parti Aspirasi Rakyat Sarawak and Parti Bumi Kenyalang, where they lack both historical presence and electoral machinery. It is hard to escape the conclusion that they have been planted by interested quarters to weaken certain blocs.
Some candidates likely have nothing to lose. If they forfeit RM5,000, so what? Most of the time, their sponsors cover the cost, along with a little pocket allowance. Their role is simply to appear on the ballot and draw votes away from stronger contenders. For them, losing is not a failure, it is part of the plan.
At this point, one must ask: can democracy survive this level of abuse? If our electoral system allows literally anyone to jump into the ring, regardless of credibility, purpose or seriousness, then what we end up with is not democratic vibrancy, but democratic clutter.
There must be a limit to how widely we open the gates. A system that is too permissive becomes vulnerable to manipulation. A system with no qualifying thresholds allows frivolous candidates, puppet candidates, convenience candidates and vote-splitters to turn elections into a strategic circus.
Malaysia desperately needs electoral reform. While participation must be protected, irresponsible participation must be deterred. Raising the election deposit is one solution. If RM5,000 cannot deter unserious candidates or proxies, perhaps the figure should be significantly higher. A more robust pre-qualification system could also help, ensuring only candidates with real community presence or political substance contest.
New political parties should be required to exist for a minimum number of years before contesting. Transparency in campaign funding should be enforced, forcing parties and candidates to disclose their sponsors. These are not barriers to democracy, they are safeguards against its exploitation.
Another interesting subplot in this election is the situation involving UPKO. The party, now fielding six candidates, previously contested under the Pakatan Harapan banner. Does this pose risks under the anti-hopping law? The EC chairman himself admitted that the commission is not empowered to determine whether a vacancy has occurred in such situations. The EC will wait for the Speaker’s decision.
This ambiguity reflects a deeper problem: laws meant to enhance stability are themselves unstable in interpretation. Sabah’s political history, marred by frequent defections and shifting alliances, deserves clearer legal boundaries, not vagueness.
So, what is the likely outcome of this electoral onslaught? Most candidates will lose their deposits. Many will struggle to even introduce themselves properly to voters. Major political blocs such as Warisan, GRS, STAR, BN and PN will still win the bulk of seats, but with weaker mandates due to heavy vote-splitting.
Many winners may scrape through with a minority slice of voter support. Coalition negotiations after the polls will likely be messy. Political stability may once again depend on delicate arithmetic rather than strong public endorsement. In short, Sabah may end up with a government, but not necessarily one with firm legitimacy. Perhaps a hung state assembly is likely.
Sabahans deserve better. They are politically savvy, discerning and courageous voters. They know their leaders. They understand their local dynamics. But even the most informed voter struggles when confronted with a ballot paper cluttered with unfamiliar names and questionable candidates whose presence serves someone else’s agenda. Elections should uplift democracy, not bury it under mountains of confusion.
When democracy becomes too free, it risks becoming directionless. Sabah’s 596-candidate political carnival may look like a triumph of democratic participation, but beneath the surface, it reveals the vulnerability of a system too easily manipulated. Participation is valuable, but credibility is priceless.
Without reforms, Malaysia risks future elections that resemble this chaotic free-for-all; costly, confusing and devoid of meaningful mandates.
The 17th Sabah election will be remembered for many things, but none more striking than the sheer volume of contestants crowding the ballot. It should serve as a wake-up call, not a badge of pride. Democracy must have boundaries, not walls; enough to allow true competitors in, but firm enough to keep chaos at bay.
Whether our leaders, in Sabah or Putrajaya, heed this warning remains to be seen. But one thing is clear: elections should serve the people, not the games of political strategists.
The views expressed here are those of the columnist and do not necessarily represent the views of Sarawak Tribune. The writer can be reached at rajlira@gmail.com
