Politics and Business should not mix !

 The fusion of political power with business interests is a lived reality that poses serious risks to our democracy, economy, and social fabric. This isn’t about pointing fingers but about understanding the dangers and reminding ourselves why we need to keep these spheres distinct.

In a healthy democracy, the government should first serve the people, not corporations or elites. When business interests influence politics, democracy is compromised, and policies benefit a few well-connected individuals rather than the rakyat.

This is particularly risky for Malaysia, where democratic institutions are still maturing and vulnerable to such influence.

A democracy influenced by business interests is a democracy weakened, and preserving its integrity means keeping these lines clear.

Governments are meant to be facilitators, creating conditions to allow businesses to flourish. This means ensuring a fair and transparent regulatory framework, investing in infrastructure, and fostering innovation. However, when governments start working for specific business interests, they stray from their primary duty of serving the rakyat.

After 65 years of independence haven’t we heard all the stories. 

High-profile corruption cases that make headlines, for instance, revealing the ugly nexus between politics and business. It’s a pattern that repeats itself, and unless we remain vigilant, it will continue.

Corruption doesn’t just rob us of money – it robs us of trust in our leaders and institutions.

When public funds are siphoned off due to corrupt practices, who suffers? It’s the everyday Malaysian. Resources that should go to schools, hospitals, and infrastructure instead line the pockets of the powerful. This isn’t just a cautionary tale; it’s our reality, and we need to demand better.

The market is distorted. We must remind ourselves of the damage done to our economy when politics meddles in business. In a fair market, competition should drive innovation and growth. But when businesses secure government favouritism through political connections, it stifles competition. This is something we see far too often in Malaysia, with politically linked companies getting the lion’s share of contracts and benefits.

What happens then? Smaller businesses – especially the small and medium-sized enterprises that are the backbone of our economy – are left to struggle. Innovation stalls, prices rise, and ultimately, we, the consumers, bear the brunt. If we want a thriving economy, we need markets that are free from political interference.

Trust is the cornerstone of any functioning society. Yet, the mixing of politics and business erodes this trust. When Malaysians see leaders prioritising corporate interests over public welfare, it breeds cynicism and apathy.

We’ve all felt it – the frustration of seeing decisions being made that seem to be more about lining someone’s pockets than serving the people. This erosion of trust can lead to something even more dangerous: social unrest.

In Malaysia, where economic and social divides already exist, the perception of a corrupt elite can spark discontent. We’ve seen movements and protests arise from this very frustration. To avoid further disillusionment and unrest, we need transparency and accountability in both politics and business.

We also need to talk about the growing gap between the rich and the poor – a gap that’s often widened when politics and business get too cosy.

We can’t ignore the fact that political favouritism has contributed to this inequality. When policies favour a select few, the majority are left behind, struggling to make ends meet.

It is about real lives – about families who can’t afford proper education for their children or adequate healthcare. When business elites and politicians collaborate to serve their own interests, they perpetuate cycles of poverty and limit

opportunities for many Malaysians. We must remember that true progress is inclusive – it leaves no one behind.

So let’s talk about ethics. When politics and business mix, ethical standards often erode – politicians may seek personal gain, and businesses may ignore regulations for profit. This decline in ethics affects every-one.

In Malaysia, we’ve seen how environmental and labour rights can take a back seat when profits are on the line, which isn’t sustainable. Whether it’s in politics or business, our leaders must act with integrity and prioritise the rakyat’s best interests. The entrenched blend of politics and business makes it hard for new governments to implement reforms. Even with leadership changes, the old guard often holds sway through longstanding business networks, acting as a “shadow government” that resists economic, bureaucratic, and political reforms.

Efforts to dismantle monopolies, ensure transparent procurement, or reform public institutions often face pushback from these interests. True reform requires not only political will but also breaking down these deep-rooted power networks.

What can we do about this then?

It starts with us – the people. We need to stay informed, hold our leaders accountable, and demand transparency.

Campaign finance reform, stronger regulations, and independent oversight are all critical. But perhaps most importantly, we must keep reminding ourselves and others of the importance of separating politics from business.

Malaysia’s future depends on it. Let’s not wait for the next scandal or crisis to wake us up. Instead, let’s stay vigilant and proactive, ensuring that our democracy and economy serve the people, not the powerful few.

This is our country, our future, and it’s up to us to protect it.

Senior lawyer Datuk Seri Dr Jahaberdeen Mohamed Yunoos is the founder of Rapera, a movement which encourages thinking and compassion among Malaysians. The views expressed here are entirely his own.

The illusion of power: Why we must remain humane no matter our role

 IN life, many of us take on roles that carry influence and authority – whether as judges, lawyers, ministers, CEOs, police officers, or public servants.

These positions command respect, sometimes fear, and often come with perks that give the illusion of personal greatness. But therein lies the danger: it is easy to be carried away by the outward respect and forget that it is the position, not the person, that is being honoured.

Since my teenage years, I have had a keen interest in observing people and the unfolding of their lives. I noticed how some were gentle and humble in power, while others became arrogant, cruel, or dismissive of those beneath them.

Over time, I also began to see how life has a way of humbling even the most powerful – especially those who allowed the intoxication of authority to get the better of them.

I find it sad to have observed that many individuals fall into the trap of losing touch with who they really are. They become so usurped by their roles or positions that they mistake their titles for their identity.

It is a dangerous illusion. Because if they live a long life, they may eventually be subjected to the silent torture of being alone with someone they do not know – themselves.

The outer world fades, and what remains is the question: Who am I without the power? And for some, that question becomes unbearable.

History has shown us that not only have highly revered political leaders suffered unhappy and hollow final years, but many others with prestigious positions – senior judges, senior civil servants, corporate giants, popular leaders, celebrated academics – have met similar fates.

Their earlier years may have been filled with recognition, influence, and admiration. But when retirement comes and the applause fades, many are left restless, bitter, or even depressed – especially if they had never cultivated their inner lives or relationships beyond their titles.

Take, for example, the stories of once-feared leaders or senior government officials. Many of them, upon retirement, find themselves lonely or forgotten.

The late President Suharto of Indonesia, once one of the most powerful men in South-East Asia, spent his final years in near-isolation, facing public anger and legal scrutiny over corruption.

The reverence that once surrounded him turned into silent disapproval and, in many quarters, public disdain. It wasn’t just political backlash – it was the natural reaction to the way he exercised power.

In Malaysia, we too have seen powerful individuals – ministers, corporate figures, enforcement officers and so on – who once appeared untouchable, but ended up facing court charges, social rejection, or quiet retirement without the fanfare they once enjoyed.

The respect, the headlines, the invitations – all of it vanishes quickly once the position is gone. And for those who did not prepare inwardly – who mistook the prestige of the post for personal greatness – it becomes a very bitter realisation.

Compare this with individuals who remained grounded even at the peak of their careers. Former South African president Nelson Mandela, for instance, is remembered not just for his political role but for his humaneness, his humility, and his ability to forgive. Even after stepping down, he continued to be revered – not for his title, but for the character he embodied. Then there is Mahatma Gandhi. That is the kind of legacy worth leaving behind.

One can also think of those in simpler roles – teachers, nurses, smalltown mayors –who treat people with kindness, dignity, and fairness, despite not having national recognition or massive power.

Strangely enough, their legacy often lasts longer in the hearts of those they touched than the fame of those who climbed higher but treated others poorly.

Ultimately, it is not power that defines us, but how we behave when we have it. Life has a rhythm that cannot be avoided.

Old age comes. Retirement comes. Even memory fades. And the inner punishment for those who were cruel or self-absorbed in power often comes not in courts or newspapers, but in silence, regret, and the emptiness of a soul that spent too much time chasing applause and too little time nurturing humanity.

So let us remind ourselves: no matter our role in life – whether as a senior judge, minister or a street cleaner – treat others with basic human decency. Be kind even when you don’t have to. Be humble even when people praise you.

Use your influence to make others’ lives easier, not harder. Because when the world stops clapping, all that remains is the truth of who you are.

And that is what life eventually reveals.

Knowing this, for those who choose to take the seemingly difficult but righteous road, I say: continue. Walk it with quiet strength. You may not always be praised, and you may even be misunderstood. But at least you have avoided the delusion.

You are living in alignment with your conscience and with the laws of nature that favour balance, integrity, and inner peace.

That, in the end, is the real success.

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Senior lawyer Dato Sri Dr Jahaberdeen Mohamed Yunoos is the founder of Rapera, a movement which encourages thinking and compassion among Malaysians. The views expressed here are entirely the writer’s own.