A partial pardon in Malaysia
KOTA KINABALU: Whenever the topic of discussion turns to former Malaysian prime minister Najib Razak, I would almost inevitably have to put up a “disclaimer” of sorts. As is quite widely known, I was Najib’s political secretary during the initial period of his premiership and may thus be said to have had a professional relationship with him. But readers familiar with my writings would also have long noticed that although commentaries might not be said to be absolutely neutral or even focused on the subject matter and not the personality, I have always tried my best to be at least pertinent in my comments. I would not deliberately take sides, but I would also not try to avoid controversy, as was evident in my discussion over my home state of Sabah. Overall, I try to focus on the issue at hand, however sensational it might be.
In 2020, Najib Razak was convicted by a Malaysian high court of criminal breach of trust, misuse of power and money laundering in relation to the world “renowned” 1MDB scandal and sentenced to 12 years of imprisonment plus fines. His legal appeals were exhausted in 2022, and he commenced his prison sentence then. Najib filed for pardon from the Malaysian king, and late last month, the Malaysian pardons board met to consider his pardon request. Last week, the pardons board belatedly issued a statement that halved Najib’s prison sentence to six years.
I attended a public function that evening, and quite a few attendees who knew about my working background came forward almost in streams to “congratulate” me on my “boss’” prison sentence commutation. Some of them were purely speaking in jest to tease me as their very special way of showing their friendship, and I understood that. But some others were of a more sinister mind, trying to, in a sense, “frame” my uttered words in response to their presumably nefarious usage later, and also understood that.
So, that evening, I had to respond politely but firmly to each of these “congratulatory” prompts, that Najib was my former and not current “boss,” and that I left his office way before the 1MDB scandal exploded and have yet to be implicated thereof. I emphasized “yet,” not in a self-incriminatory sense, as I am quite confident that my reputation is quite formidable as one mortified by corruption and other shady, collusive practices. Instead, I was trying to hint at the fact that under the prevalent Malaysian atmosphere that witnessed investigations of corrupt practices dating back to quite a few decades ago and that horrified many business and political elites, it would not be difficult to frame some technical charges, such as failing to declare some minor assets, on someone thus targeted.
Speaking about technicality, it would perhaps be timely to discuss professionalism, too. The Malaysian pardons board’s statement frankly leaves much to be desired in professionalism. It states that after a meeting presided over by the former Malaysian king, the board decided to reduce Najib’s sentence. While this may be “correct” in the eyes of the general public, which focuses on sentence reduction, it is technically incorrect in the much stricter legal sense and may even be said to be unconstitutional. For the Malaysian constitution explicitly vests the power to pardon on the Malaysian king alone and does not even mention the pardons board. The board is, at best, an advisory body to the king on pardons, but even if the vast majority of its members are of one opinion on certain pardons, the king may still constitutionally decide to grant a pardon (or not) contrary to that opinion. The correct procedure in this regard should have been a statement issued by the Malaysian national palace stating the king’s decision on a certain pardon request and not by the pardons board on its own accord.
Moreover, the pardons board’s statement also points out that both Najib’s prison sentence and fines are to be halved. But the same statement also sets the new fine to be RM50 million, down from RM210 million. That would have been a reduction of more than three quarters and not merely half. There seems to have been a snafu either in the calculation or the wording of the statement.
Some would attribute Najib’s pardon (or not) to the political decision of the Malaysian government of the day. Such an “obvious” impression is perhaps due to several reasons. For one, in 2018 after Najib was ousted from power following a general election that saw his longstanding ruling party toppled, Anwar Ibrahim, the current prime minister who was then imprisoned, was expeditiously pardoned. Although Anwar was well known worldwide to be a political prisoner, and his release was well received both domestically and internationally, it was never a process that was “accelerated” by the new government then. The public was thus left with the impression that the government of the day could “arrange” for pardons. There is also an institutional reason since the prime minister of the day and some ministers are ex officio members of the pardons board, and the statement above was specifically issued by the pardons board’s secretariat, which is parked in the prime minister’s department. It is thus almost inevitable that such a politically driven public impression would arise.
But as Najib is not to be immediately released from prison but would have to serve at least another two years before he is eligible for parole (for good behavior), it is perhaps still too early to tell what the political implications are of the pardon decision. When Najib does walk out of prison later, it is highly likely that the Malaysian sociopolitical scene would have been awash and ruled by the recently very gung-ho Green Wave. By then, the public attention would more likely be trained on the conservatism and theocratization that would overwhelm the country. And it is questionable if Najib would still be able to ramp up his political whirlwind then as he did a few years ago.