PART 10 — The Myth of “Opposition” in Brunei

In Brunei, the word “opposition” has long been treated with caution.

It is often associated with conflict, instability, and division.

Yet our own political and moral traditions teach us something more subtle:
that loyalty is strengthened by sincerity, and governance is strengthened by counsel.

This essay is not about confrontation.

It is about understanding the difference between opposition and conscience.

If Brunei does not practise adversarial politics, then a deeper question remains:
What, in our system, replaces it?

 

The Myth of “Opposition” in Brunei
When Conscience Is Mistaken for Conflict

KopiTalk with MHO

If there's one word in Brunei’s political chat that makes people squirm, it’s “opposition.” For many, it feels confrontational, foreign, even a bit scary - like just disagreeing is a sign of disloyalty. But that discomfort reveals a lot about our political vibe and the work that still needs to be done to grow it.

In Brunei, stability has always been linked with harmony, unity, and respect for authority. These aren’t weaknesses; they’re strengths grounded in our Malay-Islamic values and the MIB perspective. But when harmony is seen as no questions asked, and unity as no differing opinions, a tricky issue starts to brew: conscience gets confused with conflict.

This is where the myth of “opposition” kicks in.

At a recent party meeting, members were asking again: What does it really mean for NDP to say it’s a strategic partner to His Majesty’s Government?

This isn’t a new topic. It’s been part of the party's journey since it started nearly twenty years ago. The fact that it keeps coming up says something important about the political reality we’re facing.

Some members spoke openly. They pointed out that while the party’s ideals might be solid, society hasn’t quite caught up. They think most people still view any political party through a single lens - opposition. Not conscience. Not a partnership. Just plain opposition.

And because that perception is so deeply ingrained, any effort to show a political party as a constructive partner often gets brushed off as unrealistic or out of touch.

During the meeting, the rules around the Majlis Perundingan Mukim dan Kampung came up - as they often do - as proof. The ban on political party involvement at the grassroots level is seen as a sign that politics, especially party politics, should be kept at arm’s length. For many, this feeds into a bigger belief: that political parties don’t really fit into our civic landscape.

But this is where the real unease lies.

This social understanding doesn’t always mesh well with the aspirations His Majesty the Sultan has repeatedly shared - goals that emphasize consultation, participation, unity between ruler and rakyat, and shared responsibility in nation-building. When participation is encouraged in theory but limited in practice, confusion is bound to follow.

So, the debate that morning wasn’t really about NDP at all. It was about whether Brunei’s political culture has figured out how to balance loyalty with participation, stability with conscience, and governance with civic engagement.

Until we clearly get that balance - not just in policy papers, but in our everyday lives - the word “opposition” will keep carrying more fear than meaning.

Let’s be clear, Brunei isn’t a place built on adversarial politics. We don’t need the noise, hostility, or division that plagues other systems. But Brunei also isn’t built on silence. Our political tradition, both Malay and Islamic, is rich in ethics like counsel, advice, and moral reminders - speaking with respect, but speaking nonetheless.

In traditional Malay political thought, loyalty to the ruler doesn’t mean blind obedience. It’s about sincerity, honesty, and having the guts to speak when it’s needed. In Islamic governance, nasihat isn’t an act of rebellion; it’s a duty of conscience. A ruler is honoured not by the absence of voices, but by the presence of principled ones.

Here’s the key point often overlooked in today’s discussions: opposition isn’t the same as conscience.

Opposition, in the adversarial sense, aims to defeat, replace, or overthrow. Conscience aims to correct, strengthen, and protect. One is about power; the other is about responsibility.

In Brunei’s context, what replaces “opposition” isn’t hostility, but moral participation.

This is also where many misunderstandings about political parties come from. A political party doesn’t automatically exist to oppose. It can be about organizing ideas, training citizens in civic responsibility, serving communities, and providing structured feedback in the national conversation. But when “politics” is seen as dangerous, any organized civic activity starts to look suspicious.

Over time, this leads to a culture where disagreement is whispered instead of discussed; concerns are shared privately rather than publicly refined; and silence is mistaken for stability.

But stability that isn’t nourished by conscience slowly becomes fragile.

We also need to be real about the institutional signals society picks up. When community structures must stay strictly apolitical, the message - even if unintended - is that politics is something to be avoided, not understood. The result isn’t neutrality, but distance. And distance breeds unfamiliarity, which in turn breeds fear.

That’s why the myth of “opposition” sticks around. Not because people want conflict, but because the language of participation hasn’t fully replaced the language of suspicion.

In earlier episodes of this series, we’ve talked about political literacy, fear, soft influence, and civic maturity. All of these come together here. A politically mature society doesn’t shout. It thinks, questions, and contributes without feeling like it’s crossing a forbidden line.

Under MIB, loyalty isn’t fragile. It’s strong enough to embrace sincerity. Respect isn’t weakened by honest advice. Unity isn’t shattered by thoughtful differences.
If anything, they’re strengthened by them.

Maybe the real question isn’t whether Brunei needs an “opposition.” It’s whether Brunei is ready to fully embrace conscience as part of governance.

Because a society without conscience doesn’t become obedient, it becomes quiet. And a quiet society isn’t always a healthy one.

KopiTalk wraps up this episode with a gentle reminder: loyalty and conscience aren’t enemies. They’re partners. In a political culture shaped by respect, wisdom, and MIB values, sincere disagreement isn’t a threat. It’s a form of care. (MHO/01/2026)