Some six million newly enfranchised voters, either young or previously unregistered, could determine the outcome of Malaysia’s first general election since the political earthquake of 2018. Yet apathy, wildly uneven constituencies and a striking conservatism among youth mean this isn’t the prelude to the lasting change that it could be. That’s not good news for a country economically scarred by the pandemic and sorely in need of inclusive growth, not old-style patronage.
The dramatic ousting of the United Malays National Organisation-led coalition, Barisan Nasional, four years ago was supposed to draw the line under identity politics and end the Malay nationalist party’s monopoly after six decades. Hopes ran high. But democratization hasn’t played out as expected. Voters have seen two government collapses, three prime ministers and a splintered opposition. Former Prime Minister Najib Razak is in jail on corruption charges, but UMNO is back in the ruling bloc and confident enough to call an election in the risky monsoon season.
The party’s electoral rallying cry ahead of the vote expected next month — the promise of a return to stability, in an allusion to pre-2018 — is appealing to those unused to this newfound turbulence at the top and feeling the pinch from rising prices. Never mind that the country cannot, and should not, go backwards. Malaysia’s open economy is being buffeted by global storms at a time when more than 60% of lower-income households have no savings. Meanwhile, subsidies are too costly, youth unemployment and overall underemployment too high, and labor productivity too weak. Educational outcomes continue to vary significantly across the country. None of these problems are new.
UMNO says it has changed, introducing new faces and backing targeted subsidies that are needs-based, not race-based. Yet it’s clear that parties with a Malay-oriented agenda based on developmental economics and welfare continue to prevail, as do the old names. It’s not just Najib who endures, Mahathir Mohamad — the long-serving prime minister who made a return as a newly minted democrat in 2018 — is running again for his Langkawi seat at 97.
The key question in 2022 is what a dramatically transformed electorate will do to change that picture.
From 14.9 million in 2018, the number of voters has swollen to 21 million thanks to constitutional changes that lowered the age to 18 from 21 — Malaysia was among the last democracies to do so — and introduced automatic registration. Already at the time of the last vote more than 40% of voters were under 40, the very people at the sharp end of the low-skills trap.
None of this implies what conventional wisdom — and footage of protesting youth in Thailand or Hong Kong — might suggest.
These new voters in Malaysia are not necessarily more liberal, less driven by identity politics or willing to demand change. The young skew more towards Malay and indigenous groups than the rest of the population, thanks to differing birthrates, and are frequently conservative. While they did not support the Barisan Nasional at the last election, it was the youth that helped the Islamic, Malay-oriented party PAS rise instead. Not to mention that even if limits on student activism have been removed and there are plenty of youth-driven initiatives — including Undi18, which campaigned to lower the voting age — disinterest is prevalent. A June survey found only 40% of Malay youth would vote if the election was held soon.
State-level votes give an imperfect but potentially indicative flavor of what is to come. In the southern state of Johor in March, the UMNO-led coalition won 40 out of 56 seats, and turnout was a paltry 55%. MUDA, a youth-based, progressive party, got one seat. Under economic pressure, the good old days of patronage politics seem to retain some appeal.
Then, there’s the inconvenient fact that a large portion of the new voters are not necessarily young at all. Thanks to the automatic voter registration portion of reform, understandably championed by Barisan Nasional, many are just people who had been put off registering before by red tape and inconvenience. That suggests only more voter absenteeism, unless parties like UMNO, with strong mobilizing capacity, step in.
Finally, there’s the question of Malaysia’s uneven constituencies, and the unequal representation that comes from major disparities in the size of electoral districts choosing parliamentarians — a bias UMNO, with its rural support, has long used to its advantage. Many of the young people voting for the first time will be in these underrepresented urban areas, but resources and attention will target easier to win countryside seats. As James Chai, visiting fellow at ISEAS-Yusof Ishak Institute points out in a recent paper, this malapportionment creates another reason for young Malaysians to disengage and encourages “a habit of vote abstention” that will impact even future cohorts.
What actually happens at the election, expected in mid-November, is still far from clear. In a tight race, monsoon floods could go against the government and favor the opposition Pakatan Harapan coalition. But a desire to go back to the future, with voters disillusioned after 2018, may well help UMNO and its allies.
Malaysia’s newest voters should keep in mind they can still shape what’s to come — should they choose to.