In the field of law, many Malaysians heralded the 2018 election as a turning point—a constitutional promise of a judiciary committed to the rule of law, impartiality and integrity.
Many hoped for a prosecutorial system grounded in fairness, and judges who would embody patriotism by delivering timely and affordable justice.
I personally expected the chief justices to respect the separation of powers, refrain from political commentary and avoid interference in coram selection across all levels of the judiciary.
Instead, what unfolded was deeply disappointing. The judiciary failed to deliver timely hearings and judgments, and in high-profile cases, the Federal Court began issuing single judgments attributed to the entire bench—undermining transparency and accountability.
By British standards, this practice would have been seen as lacking impartiality.
The judiciary’s encroachment into domains reserved for Parliament—such as moral and social legislation—further eroded the separation of powers.
Even in liberal jurisdictions like India, courts would tread carefully when statutory prohibitions exist, especially on sensitive issues like sexual conduct.
Yet, our Federal Court seemed determined to assert judicial supremacy, disregarding social norms and constitutional boundaries, including the principles enshrined in the Rukun Negara.
One particularly troubling decision involved the Federal Court declaring the offence of enticing married women for sex unconstitutional, a move with far-reaching implications.
The insistence on rigid adherence to the rule on binding precedent, while rooted in common law, clashes with Malaysia’s constitutional framework, which empowers every judge to uphold the constitution independently. I have addressed this previously and will not belabour the point here.
The erosion of judicial independence and accountability has been stark.
I had envisioned a judiciary that would uphold good governance, transparency and intellectual honesty—honouring the Malay rulers and the spirit of the Federal Constitution. Instead, I witnessed a decline in the rule of law, more pronounced than under previous administrations.
My critiques of prosecutorial and judicial overreach, and the need to avoid racial hegemony in violation of Article 153, have been echoed in numerous writings.
Meanwhile, a wave of articles praising certain judges has emerged, many bordering on adulation, unlike anything I have seen before.
Notably, a former chief justice has voiced strong criticisms since 2018, with landmark articles published on April 20 and 29, 2025. These pieces stand out for their boldness, especially in challenging a sitting chief justice. Indeed, blind loyalty to the judiciary, and within it, is an anathema to the rule of law.
Judicial interference is not new in Malaysia. Since the removal of former lord president Salleh Abas, no chief justice has had the moral courage to demand a royal commission of inquiry to look into opaque practices within the judiciary despite whistleblower judges risking their careers to uphold judicial integrity.
One such judge, Syed Ahmad Idid, attempted to expose misconduct as far back as 1996—almost 30 years ago now. His sacrifice went unrewarded, and he was forced to resign without proper compensation. It is time the government rectified this injustice.
Looking ahead, I hope the next chief justice will recognise the limitations of the English legal system that we have sought to apply, albeit sometimes too rigidly. Its historical strengths are innumerable, but at the end of the day, what matters most to litigants is swift, fair justice.
In 1215, during the Magna Carta era, the English system delivered justice as swiftly as a horse-drawn coach, thanks to the jury system.
Today, with the world moving at the pace of high-speed data, justice in many Commonwealth countries continues to move at the pace of a bullock cart—or worse, a donkey cart—due to outdated legal systems and decades-long backlogs.
I have long proposed a revolutionary method of disposing cases. If adopted by the judiciary, my proposed university-cum-court annexed arbitration model, endorsed as “ingenious and attractive” by a former UK Supreme Court president, can eliminate backlongs and reduce judicial time.
Like in many other fields, technology and now artificial intelligence demand that the legal system adopt an entirely different way of thinking.
Will the next CJ embrace ground-breaking forward-thinking reform, or will we continue to stumble clumsily along at the pace of a donkey plod?
The views expressed are those of the writer and do not necessarily reflect those of FMT.