By Dr Rahim Said
August 27, 2026: Surely an auspicious day for Malaysia.
There are days in a nation’s history when the stars align, the planets behave themselves, and something happens that makes you wonder whether the universe has finally developed a sense of humour.
Three former Malaysian prime ministers — Ismail Sabri Yaakob, Muhyiddin Yassin and Najib Razak — converged at the Kuala Lumpur Courts Complex. Not for a reunion dinner.
Not to launch a book titled How to Govern Malaysia. Not even to reminisce about the good old days when they occupied the most powerful office in the country. They were there for three separate legal battles.
If this were a Hollywood movie, the poster might read: THREE PRIME MINISTERS. ONE COURT COMPLEX. TOO MANY LAWYERS.
Malaysia, meanwhile, could proudly advertise itself as the only country where the former occupants of the Prime Minister’s Office can hold something resembling a Cabinet meeting in the courthouse lobby. There is something almost poetic about it.
Ismail Sabri, prime minister from August 2021 to November 2022, arrived with supporters from Bera and his legal team. He faces charges relating to alleged failure to declare assets, including nearly US$40 million and gold bars. The timing is particularly Malaysian. His original court appearance was postponed after he underwent a pacemaker procedure.
Apparently, even the heart needed a little more time before facing the Malaysian justice system.
Then came Najib Razak. The former prime minister who once seemed politically untouchable has now become almost a permanent fixture of the Malaysian legal landscape. He was back in court over the civil suit concerning alleged losses linked to the multibillion-dollar 1MDB scandal.
Once upon a time, Najib was photographed arriving at international summits, meeting world leaders and delivering speeches about Malaysia’s place in the world. Today, the choreography is rather different: prison officers, courtrooms and lawyers.
And then there was Muhyiddin Yassin, prime minister from March 2020 to August 2021. He was there for the continuation of his trial involving seven charges connected to Jana Wibawa, including allegations of abuse of position, gratification for Bersatu and money laundering.
Three prime ministers. Three different political eras. Three different sets of allegations. One courthouse.
You could almost hear someone in the visitors’ gallery whispering: “Where is another one?” Whoops!
Over the years, Malaysia has had enough prime ministers in recent years to make the revolving door at the Prime Minister’s Department look like a government policy. What is striking about this extraordinary gathering is not merely the coincidence. It is what it says about the changing meaning of political power in Malaysia.
Becoming prime minister was regarded as the pinnacle of political achievement. The office carried enormous prestige. Prime ministers were treated almost as national institutions. They opened buildings. They launched projects. They received foreign dignitaries. They gave speeches about integrity, reform and the future.
And they were often surrounded by people whose careers depended upon never asking uncomfortable questions.
But power has a peculiar habit. It eventually ends.
And once the motorcade disappears, the flags come down and the official portraits are replaced, the former prime minister discovers the same thing every ordinary citizen has always known: The law has a long memory.
Of course, being charged is not the same as being guilty. Every accused person is entitled to due process and the presumption of innocence. That principle is particularly important when the accused once occupied the highest political office in the land.
But there is another principle worth remembering. Public office is not private property. The higher the office, the greater the responsibility.
And when billions of ringgit, unexplained assets, political funding and alleged abuse of power enter the picture, Malaysians are entitled to ask questions — uncomfortable ones.
For years, Malaysians have watched governments change through defections, coalitions, manoeuvres, palace interventions, elections and political realignments. We have watched prime ministers come and go with remarkable speed.
It should make aspiring politicians think carefully before dreaming of becoming prime minister. Because the job description apparently has two parts: First — become Prime Minister. Second –eventually become a defendant, witness, accused or litigant at the Kuala Lumpur Courts Complex.
Naturally, I exaggerate. But only slightly. Perhaps we should declare August 27 a national day of reflection. On this particular day, let us celebrate something much more fundamental — the idea that political power eventually meets accountability. It may take years. It may take investigations, commissions, lawyers, witnesses, documents, appeals and an astonishing amount of taxpayers’ money.
But eventually, the former holder of the highest office may find himself standing in the same building as everyone else — waiting for a judge to hear his case.
Something is reassuring about that. And something profoundly sad too.