The People’s Pulse: Faith, Fairness, and the Fragile Line Between Ideals and Implementation

The People’s Pulse: When Faith Meets Frustration

After three essays exploring Brunei’s political system through the ideals of Melayu Islam Beraja (MIB), readers responded — passionately, honestly, and from the heart.

Many spoke not against the philosophy, but about the distance between its promise and practice.

This follow-up reflection listens to those voices — the graduates still searching for dignity, the poor still waiting for fairness, and the faithful who still believe that Negara Zikir can be lived, not just preached.

Because when the people speak, even softly, it is not rebellion — it is remembrance.

☕ KopiTalk with MHO

(Understanding Brunei’s Political System and Culture through MIB — Series Part 4)

I recently had a chat with several graduates struggling to find jobs. One of them, now in his early thirties, still has no stable work or income. 

Occasionally, he works as a food delivery rider, earning about ten dollars per trip. 

On a good month, he manages ten to twenty trips — an inconsistent income of barely over $150, hardly enough to sustain his living. 

He relies on the charity of his parents and siblings, something he finds undignified for a graduate with a Master’s degree in Management. 

Yet, he hasn’t given up. “Kami pasrah saja, and do whatever we can just to live,” he sighed, his tone neither angry nor bitter, but quietly resigned.

Another unemployed graduate shared how, despite being eager to work, he too remains jobless after completing the i-Ready programme. 

Once the term ended, there was no job waiting for him. He described how some employers exploited the system, using i-Ready placements as a source of cheap labour rather than as a bridge to genuine employment. 

My encounters with several asnaf fakir miskin revealed another side of hardship — the struggle with digitalisation. 

Many are not tech-literate, and as they live at the poverty line, even affording mobile data or internet access is a challenge. For them, online forms for zakat or SKN applications are barriers, not bridges, to the assistance they need.

These stories are not isolated. They mirror the unease many Bruneians expressed after the earlier episodes of this series on Negara Zikir and Melayu Islam Beraja (MIB). 

The sentiment is clear: the ideals are beautiful, but their practice sometimes feels distant. The frustration does not stem from disbelief in MIB; it arises from the widening gap between moral intention and bureaucratic execution.

Between Faith and Frustration

People want to believe in the promise of Negara Zikir — a nation that remembers God in its governance, justice, and compassion. 

But they also live in the daily reality of inefficiency, delays, and indifference. Their quiet sighs echo the same sentiment: faith must be felt, not just recited.

When the people speak of fairness, they are not rejecting faith — they are yearning to see it lived out in justice, compassion, and accountability. 

Many of them understand that MIB, as a political philosophy, is rooted in trust (amanah), mercy (rahmah), and responsibility (mas’uliyyah). 

But when these principles fail to guide policy implementation, the rakyat begin to question whether MIB has been reduced to rhetoric rather than reality.

One cannot help but recall His Majesty Sultan Haji Hassanal Bolkiah’s titah during the 24th Civil Service Day (2017), when he reminded public servants:

“Those given power must not abuse it for self-interest or to mistreat people. Good public servants are those who serve honestly and sincerely. Efficiency is not valuable if it is used to persecute people.”

That warning was both moral and administrative. It was a call to remember that the authority vested in every officer is a sacred trust, not a personal privilege. 

When the rakyat encounter arrogance or indifference at the counter, it is not merely bad service — it is a breach of amanah.

The Mirror of Governance

In one titah delivered after an unannounced inspection at several government departments in 2020, His Majesty expressed deep concern about abuse of power, poor management, and the mistreatment of subordinates and the public. 

The monarch’s message was unmistakable:

“Public servants must not misuse their power for personal interest or mistreat others. Efficiency is meaningless if used to oppress the people.”

This was not simply a reprimand. It was a moral rebuke — a reminder that a system claiming to be guided by MIB cannot justify inefficiency or cronyism in the name of tradition. 

The Sultan’s frustration reflected the people’s own. Both ruler and rakyat are bound by the same covenant of conscience.

His Majesty has, on many occasions, reiterated that good governance is not just about procedures, but about ethics.I

n his titah at the Brunei Shell Petroleum Board Meeting (2025), he urged a steadfast commitment to governance, ethics, and compliance to ensure credibility and sustainability. 

These are not corporate buzzwords — they are expressions of moral accountability deeply aligned with Negara Zikir and MIB.

Meanwhile, in another titah marking Maulidur Rasul (2015), His Majesty reminded that national policies and education must “not deviate even slightly from the philosophy of Melayu Islam Beraja.” 

He emphasised that MIB is not a narrow path but a broad highway of values — one that guarantees dignity, unity, and balance if walked with sincerity.

The people’s frustration, then, is not against MIB itself. It is against those who claim to uphold it but betray its spirit through arrogance, inefficiency, and self-interest.

Delivery System: The Broken Bridge

Across conversations and social media threads, one common thread emerges: a growing disconnect between policy intention and public delivery. 

Some call it bureaucracy; others call it disconnection. Many simply sigh, “Awu banar tu.”

Digitalisation, while modern in appearance, has in some cases built new walls around the poor. 

Online welfare forms, digital zakat registration, and automated processes are meant to bring ease, but for those without access or literacy, they become new barriers. 

For a system inspired by ihsan (excellence and compassion), this irony is painful.

This gap between intention and implementation also feeds a deeper public fatigue. 

Many see talented youth overlooked, deserving families left behind, and red tape justifying delay. People whisper about Little Napoleons — mid-level officials who weaponise procedure to assert power.

Here again, His Majesty’s earlier titah resonates. During his unannounced inspections, he pointed out poor leadership, cronyism, and the lack of sincerity in serving the public. 

Those remarks struck a chord because they echoed what ordinary citizens quietly feel every day.

His Majesty’s repeated emphasis on sincerity and efficiency, fairness and humility, is not an abstract lecture. It is a form of participatory governance in itself — a moral dialogue between leader and people. 

The ruler’s frustration mirrors that of the rakyat.

Faith, Accountability, and the Spirit of Negara Zikir

In Negara Zikir, every act of governance should be an act of remembrance. Faith is not meant to silence critique; it is meant to refine it. 

When public systems fail to serve with compassion and integrity, the problem is not faith — it is forgetfulness.

Accountability, in the MIB sense, does not require political confrontation. It requires moral awakening — the self-awareness that power is temporary, but responsibility eternal. 

The Sultan’s titah reminds every administrator and citizen that governance is worship when done with honesty, and hypocrisy when used for gain.

Brunei’s civil service, from ministries to local councils, is the living expression of MIB. 

It is there that ideals meet reality. When efficiency loses empathy, when compliance loses compassion, the moral rhythm of Negara Zikir falters.

Perhaps the true measure of our faith-based governance lies not in how loudly we proclaim it, but how gently it is felt by those waiting for a reply, for a signature, for a chance.

Reflection: The People’s Prayer

Faith gives us the moral compass, but fairness gives us direction. The voice of the people — graduates, riders, clerks, mothers, pensioners — is not rebellion; it is reflection. And reflection, at its deepest level, is zikir — a remembering of who we are and what we stand for.

If Negara Zikir is to remain alive, then the ideals of MIB must continue to walk alongside the people. Leadership must listen; institutions must serve; and faith must be seen in action, not merely spoken in ceremonies.

As His Majesty once said, MIB is not a narrow path but a broad highway of values. 

The challenge for our time is to keep that highway open, unblocked by ego, inefficiency, or arrogance.

Perhaps the real test of faith in governance is not how loudly we preach it, but how kindly it is felt by those who stand on the other side of the counter. 

If the people’s patience is the quiet rhythm of Negara Zikir, then conscience itself must now find its way into administration.

That will be the heart of our next conversation in Part 5 — exploring how moral participation and political conscience can shape the future of governance under MIB, and how a political party may find its place not as a challenger of authority, but as its moral companion. (MHO/11/2025)