JULY 31 — Prime Minister Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim and Pakatan Harapan have often been accused of breaking their promises.
Some of this criticism is justified. Political leaders who campaign on ambitious manifestos must accept scrutiny when they enter government and discover that their promises are difficult, delayed or impossible to implement.
Yet not every unfulfilled promise is necessarily an act of betrayal.
There is a difference between abandoning a promise, adjusting it because circumstances have changed, and struggling to honour its underlying purpose through other means.
Malaysians should learn to distinguish between the three.
An opposition party campaigns without having complete access to the Treasury’s books, contractual obligations, contingent liabilities, hidden debts or the full condition of government-linked institutions. Once it assumes office, it may discover that the fiscal position is far worse than what had previously been presented.
That does not give any government a permanent excuse. It does, however, mean that manifestos cannot always be implemented mechanically, regardless of changing conditions.
Prime Minister Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim attending a meet-and-greet session with Indian students at Universiti Malaya in this file picture dated May 10, 2026. The author argues that young Malaysians and minority communities should hold the government accountable by measuring promises against actual outcomes. — Bernama picThe more reasonable test is whether the government still honours the intention behind its promises.
Take the cost of fuel.
Anwar was previously associated with the promise that fuel prices could be reduced.
Once in government, however, he confronted a more complicated reality: volatile global oil prices, pressure on public finances, disruptions to maritime trade, higher shipping and insurance costs, and wars that Malaysia did not start and cannot unilaterally end.
The conflicts in West Asia, including disruptions surrounding the Strait of Hormuz, sharply increased international energy costs. The continuing Russia-Ukraine war has also placed long-term pressure on global commodity, transportation and food markets.
These are not excuses manufactured in Putrajaya. They are external shocks affecting governments across the world.
The relevant question is therefore not whether Anwar has magically made global petroleum cheaper. No Malaysian prime minister possesses such power.
The fairer question is whether his government has attempted to prevent those global shocks from being transferred immediately and completely to ordinary Malaysians.
On that score, the evidence is measurable.
The Ministry of Finance reported that the government’s monthly fuel subsidy expenditure increased from approximately RM700 million in January 2026 to about RM5 billion by May. At one stage in April, the monthly bill reportedly reached RM7.5 billion as international prices surged. Throughout this period, the government continued maintaining subsidised RON95 at RM1.99 per litre for eligible Malaysians.
This does not mean that every Malaysian household is free from hardship. Nor does it mean that the existing subsidy system is perfect, efficient or immune from leakage.
It means that the government has absorbed billions of ringgit in additional costs rather than allowing the entire increase to appear immediately at petrol stations.
That is not the complete fulfilment of a promise to reduce fuel costs. But neither is it the complete abandonment of that promise.
It is an attempt to honour the promise’s underlying purpose: to protect ordinary Malaysians from an uncontrollable rise in the cost of living.
The distinction matters.
A promise should not be judged only through a frozen sentence uttered during an election campaign. It should also be assessed through budget allocations, administrative decisions, subsidy expenditure, legislation, implementation and measurable outcomes.
Promises must be audited, not merely shouted about.
The same principle should apply to Anwar’s statements concerning Malaysian Indians.
At an Indian community event attended by Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi on February 7, 2026, Anwar described Malaysian Indians as an integral partner in nation-building. He acknowledged their contributions to plantations, railways, ports, hospitals, schools, government services and the wider development of Malaysia. He also affirmed that Malaysian Indian culture and history form part of the country’s shared national inheritance.
More recently, Anwar reportedly declared that he would personally oversee issues affecting the Indian community.
Such a declaration is significant. But it must not be treated as self-executing.
A speech at a dinner is not yet a policy. An assurance delivered before thousands of witnesses is not yet an improvement in wages, education, housing, citizenship documentation or economic mobility.
The advantage, however, is that the promise has been made openly. It has been recorded on video. It has been captured in photographs, news reports, official transcripts and the memories of thousands of people present at the event.
It cannot easily be denied later.
That gives Malaysian Indian voters both an opportunity and a responsibility.
They should hold Anwar to his word now — not five years from now, not only during the next general election, and not after every programme has either succeeded or failed.
They should ask for clear benchmarks.
How many stateless or undocumented Indian children will receive assistance?
How many neglected Tamil schools will obtain repairs and proper facilities?
How many young Indians will enter technical education, universities, apprenticeships and high-skilled employment?
How much public procurement will reach credible Indian small and medium-sized enterprises rather than politically connected intermediaries?
What will be done about urban poverty, gang recruitment, school dropout rates and the displacement of plantation communities?
These are questions that can be answered with numbers, dates and audited allocations.
The same standard must apply to Orang Asli communities.
For too long, Orang Asli development has been announced from administrative centres rather than designed with the communities themselves. Their concerns include customary land, clean water, roads, electricity, schools, healthcare, nutrition, identity documentation and protection from uncontrolled encroachment.
Orang Asli voters should not be expected to remain grateful merely because a minister visits a settlement, distributes assistance or launches another programme.
They should insist on land maps, implementation schedules, expenditure reports and legally enforceable protection.
How many Orang Asli villages have secure access to clean water?
How many land claims have been surveyed and resolved?
How many children complete secondary school?
How many clinics are adequately staffed?
How many development projects received genuine free, prior and informed consultation?
A government that speaks in the name of inclusion must be willing to answer these questions publicly.
Young Malaysians, too, must stop treating political promises as either sacred scripture or meaningless campaign noise.
The government has announced youth-related initiatives, including an increase in funding for the Malaysian Youth Council. But allocations alone do not guarantee transformation.
Young people should ask whether these funds create apprenticeships, affordable housing, better wages, entrepreneurial opportunities, mental-health support, digital access and pathways into high-value industries.
They should ask whether graduate underemployment is falling.
They should ask whether starting salaries are keeping pace with rent, transport and food prices.
They should ask whether technical and vocational education leads to dignified careers rather than becoming a second-class track for those excluded from universities.
The youth must not wait passively for programmes to “come to fruition.” By the time failure becomes obvious, another election may have passed and another generation may have lost valuable years.
Democratic accountability must take place continuously.
This is why Anwar’s promises should be recorded, catalogued and measured.
Where he succeeds, he should receive credit.
Where external shocks prevent full implementation, the government should explain the constraints honestly.
Where a promise has become unrealistic, it should be revised transparently rather than quietly buried.
Where ministers or agencies fail to execute the prime minister’s commitments, they should be identified and corrected.
And where the government has simply neglected a community after receiving its votes, the criticism must be uncompromising.
Indian, Orang Asli and young voters should neither worship Anwar nor dismiss him automatically.
They should bind him to his own words.
Every speech captured on video becomes evidence. Every budget becomes a measuring instrument. Every official announcement creates an obligation.
Every public allocation can be followed through the administrative system. Every promise can be compared against actual outcomes.
This is more useful than claiming that all promises have been broken or pretending that all promises have been fulfilled.
Malaysia needs a more mature political vocabulary.
Some promises are broken.
Some are delayed.
Some are overtaken by wars, recessions or inherited fiscal problems.
Some are honoured imperfectly through alternative policies.
And some remain alive only because citizens continue demanding their implementation.
Anwar must be given neither a blank cheque nor an impossible examination.
He should be judged by whether he continues moving in the direction he promised, whether he spends political capital to protect vulnerable Malaysians, and whether the results can be seen in household expenses, schools, jobs, land rights and human dignity.
The responsibility does not belong to Anwar alone.
Malaysian Indians, Orang Asli communities and the youth must organise, document, question and demand.
Do not merely wait for promises to materialise.
Measure them.
Record them.
Test them.
And hold the prime minister to every word he has chosen to place before millions of human witnesses.
* Phar Kim Beng is a professor of Asean Studies and a director at the Institute of International and Asean Studies, International Islamic University Malaysia.
** This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail.
