Embracing nepotism and PKR's fall from grace
In the late 1990s, the seeds of Parti Keadilan Rakyat (PKR) were sown in the anguish of a nation. Raja Petra Kamaruddin, a fiery voice for change, saw the tides shifting as Malaysians, disillusioned by the jailing of Anwar Ibrahim, abandoned UMNO in droves.
PAS, the only Malay-led opposition at the time, became a magnet for these defectors. But Petra envisioned something bolder—a party that could channel this exodus into a new force for reformasi.
Thus, with his writings, the idea of a new party was born. This is how we remember the first steps that brought the creation of a beacon of hope for a Malaysia yearning for justice and equality.
Fast forward to 2025, and that beacon flickers. PKR, once the darling of reformists, is a party adrift, its soul seemingly lost in the corridors of power. The 2018 elections were its zenith, with 47 seats secured—a historic triumph for a party built on the streets, not in boardrooms. Yet, by 2020, the cracks appeared. PKR hemorrhaged seats, its reformist fire dimmed.
A bittersweet victory came in 2022 when it allied with its former nemesis, UMNO, and Barisan Nasional to edge out Perikatan Nasional and claim Putrajaya. The irony was stark: the party of rebellion now leaned on the establishment it once vowed to dismantle. But power has not been kind to PKR. The party’s luminaries—Nurul Izzah Anwar, Saifuddin Nasution, and Fuziah Salleh—once street-fighting icons of reformasi, now face the sting of electoral defeat and internal strife.
Nurul Izzah, the symbol of PKR’s youthful idealism, lost her parliamentary seat in a shocking upset. Saifuddin, a seasoned strategist, and Fuziah, a vocal advocate for change, met similar fates, their losses emblematic of a party struggling to reconnect with its base. These defeats are not just personal; they signal a deeper malaise.
Today, PKR critics argue that the party has lost its bite, its reformist zeal blunted by the compromises of governance. Rafizi Ramli, the embattled deputy leader, is seemingly being pushed aside by a tide in favour of Nurul Izzah.
PKR, now ruling from Putrajaya, finds itself on the defensive, accused of embracing the very policies—nepotism, pragmatism over principle—it once decried. The voters, who marched under the reformasi banner, feel betrayed.
“We fought for change, not for PKR to become UMNO 2.0,” one disillusioned supporter laments. The party’s paradox is painfully clear. In power, PKR has access to resources and influence it never had in its insurgent days. Yet, that power has shackled it.
Policies once unthinkable—alliances with old foes, muted criticism of systemic flaws—are now justified as “necessary compromises. The party’s base, once energized by its outsider status, now questions its relevance.
As PKR stumbles, the abyss looms. Can it reclaim its reformist roots, or will it sink further into the morass of political expediency? The incredible story of PKR, born from the ashes of injustice, now teeters on the edge of irrelevance. For Nurul Izzah, Saifuddin, Fuziah, and the party they helped build, the fight is no longer just against external foes—it’s against the erosion of the very ideals that gave PKR life