The Unfinished Agenda

Part 1: Twenty-Two Years Later

When Brunei celebrated two decades of independence, it asked whether political sovereignty would be matched by economic strength. Twenty-two years later, that question still deserves an answer.

By Malai Hassan Othman

There are moments in a nation’s history when celebration gives way to reflection. Brunei was in that mood in 2004.

The country was commemorating twenty years as a fully sovereign and independent nation after decades under British protection. Patriotism was at its height. The excitement of independence was still fresh, and the language of nation-building carried enormous emotional weight. The question was no longer whether Brunei could govern itself. It was how Bruneians would shape the nation’s future.

It was therefore no coincidence that, alongside the official celebrations, the National Day Committee organised a Majlis Ilmu under the theme:

“Patriotisme Teras Keteguhan Negara – 20 Tahun Merdeka: Pencapaian dan Halatuju.”

The theme was more than ceremonial.

It acknowledged something the official celebrations preferred not to dwell on: political sovereignty alone would never be enough. A sovereign nation also needed citizens capable of building its economy, creating enterprises and sustaining prosperity for future generations.

Among the papers presented at that Majlis Ilmu was one whose title now feels remarkably contemporary:

“Masalah, Pencapaian dan Prospek Perniagaan Orang Melayu.”

Presented by Haji Razali bin Haji Johari on behalf of the Dewan Perniagaan dan Perusahaan Melayu Brunei (DPPMB), the paper examined the strengths, weaknesses and future of Malay entrepreneurship at a defining moment in Brunei’s national journey.

Looking back today, the paper produces an uncomfortable feeling.

Not because it was wrong.

But because it still feels current.

Twenty-two years have passed, development plans have come and gone, strategies have been launched, entrepreneurship programmes have multiplied.

Yet many of the questions raised at that Majlis Ilmu continue to surface today, as though time itself had been busy while the conversation stood remarkably still.

Its significance lies not in predicting the future.

It lies in recognising, at a very early stage, that political sovereignty and economic capability are not the same achievement.

In 2004, the public conversation centred on what was commonly known as the Ali Baba phenomenon—arrangements in which business licences granted to local citizens were effectively operated by others.

The expressions Ali Chandran and Ali Bangla had not yet entered Brunei’s vocabulary.

Yet the underlying concern was already unmistakable.

How could Bruneians, particularly Malay entrepreneurs, build the knowledge, institutions, commercial discipline and business culture needed to become stronger participants in their own economy?

That question was never directed against any particular community.

It was directed at ourselves.

One of the central themes of Haji Razali’s presentation was the need for an Anjakan Paradigma—a paradigm shift. Entrepreneurship, he argued, required more than licences, financial assistance or good intentions. It demanded stronger institutions, better governance, commercial knowledge, leadership and a willingness to think beyond survival towards sustainability and growth.

The recommendations were neither hidden nor controversial.

They were presented at one of the nation’s most significant intellectual forums during one of the most symbolic moments in Brunei’s post-independence history.

Like many thoughtful ideas, however, they proved easier to applaud than to implement.

That observation is not intended as criticism.

It is simply what history appears to tell us.

Over the past few weeks, Brunei has once again found itself discussing local economic participation.

The names are now different.

Ali Chandran. Ali Bangla.

Social media has amplified concerns that once travelled only through coffee shops and neighbourhood conversations.

But beneath the changing labels lies a remarkably familiar question.

Why does this debate keep returning?

Perhaps because the conversation itself never truly ended. It merely changed its vocabulary.

Fifteen years after Haji Razali’s presentation, research by Li Li Pang of Universiti Brunei Darussalam documented what became known as the Ali Chandran phenomenon, examining how expatriate business networks had become increasingly visible within Brunei’s retail sector. Rather than contradicting the concerns raised in 2004, the study found that many of the same structural questions surrounding local entrepreneurship had simply waited.

In late 2024, this column compared the two works and reached an uncomfortable conclusion: despite being separated by fifteen years, they pointed towards many of the same structural challenges confronting local enterprise.

Today, in 2026, public attention has shifted again.

The debate now revolves around Ali Bangla.

The labels have changed.

The questions have not.

This series is not an attempt to reopen old controversies.

Nor is it an exercise in assigning blame.

It is an invitation to revisit a national conversation that Brunei itself began more than two decades ago.

A conversation about what economic participation should mean in an independent nation.

A conversation about how local entrepreneurship can become more resilient, more organised and more competitive.

A conversation that may be more relevant today than when it first began.

History is valuable not because it tells us what happened.

It is valuable because it reminds us of the questions we once considered important enough to ask.

Perhaps the real question is not whether Brunei recognised the problem in 2004.

The record shows that it did.

The more uncomfortable question is what happened after the applause ended, the seminar hall emptied, and the papers were filed away.

That is the conversation this series hopes to reopen.

In the next part, we return to Haji Razali’s call for an Anjakan Paradigma and examine the distance between policy ambition and institutional follow-through.

The record suggests Brunei was more practised at holding the conversation than at sustaining what came after it.