We’re all familiar with the idea of the nation state. But have you ever heard of a state nation? Almost certainly not – because the term has just been invented by the Malaysian analyst Saiful Bahari Baharom, a former top official at his country’s Ministry of Finance and Prime Minister’s Office.
He coined the word to describe the way the Malaysian state of Sarawak is working to reclaim the rights it once had as an independent political entity on the island of Borneo for more than 100 years, while remaining very much a part of the country. But the concept of the “state nation” could be far more widely applicable in a variety of countries where often delicate issues of autonomy, independence or reunification need to be managed.
The history of modern Sarawak is fascinating. It was founded in 1841 by James Brooke, a British former soldier seeking his fortune in the East, who was granted land and the title of “Rajah” by the Sultan of Brunei for helping him put down a rebellion. Over the next six decades, the Brookes secured so many concessions from the declining Brunei empire that their state covered nearly all the central and northern coastal areas of Borneo. Recognised by both the UK and the US as a sovereign state, it was not a British colony, although the last ruler, Charles Brooke, was granted the style of His Highness by Britain’s King George V.
The “white rajahs” were not extractive imperialists – they worked closely with the local chiefs and are remembered mostly fondly. Exhausted and impoverished by the Second World War, however, Charles Brooke handed his kingdom to the British Empire in 1946.
Just under 20 years later, the governments of Britain and the newly independent Federation of Malaya proposed a union between the latter and the UK’s nearby colonial possessions – Singapore, Sarawak and Sabah (also in north Borneo). There was anxiety about whether the last three could be viable on their own, and this was also a time when support for the idea of a “Greater Indonesia” – which would have swallowed up all of them as well as Malaya – was strong.
In 1963, the Malaysia Agreement solved the problem. It united the Federation of Malaya with Singapore, Sarawak and Sabah in a new country – Malaysia. Crucially, it was seen by the three smaller states not as a partnership between equals as such, but almost. For decades, however, Sarawak ended up being treated as just one of Malaysia’s 13 states (as was Sabah) during the long period that the governing Barisan Nasional won every single election. So from being near partners with Malaya, the former sovereign state of Sarawak ended up as though it was just the same as one of the constituent states of the former Federation of Malaya.
That all changed in 2018 when the Barisan lost power and Malaysian politics was completely shaken up. Sarawak and Sabah realised they were now kingmakers – the quarter of seats they held in Malaysia’s parliament were vital for anyone to form a stable government at the federal level. And so since then, Sarawak in particular has been pushing successfully for more and more autonomy – but not independence.
This is the concept of the state nation – which it should be stressed is not the same or as simple as blanket decentralisation.
The problem with nationalists in places like Scotland and Catalonia is that they want their lands to become nation states – and almost no country wants to accept secession of any sort. The state nation accepts the unity of the country, but wants to be seen as a proper entity in its own right. Language is crucial here. When politicians talk of devolution, that comes across as the central state being gracious enough to delegate some powers to the periphery. The state nation asks for the return or restoration of its own rights – which recognises and stresses the natural dignity and autonomy inherent in the state nation, rather than pleading for grudging crumbs from the centre.
I don’t think I’ve heard anyone deny the justice of Malaysia’s Borneo states’ case. For years, the MPs they supplied to the Barisan governments were referred to as “the fixed deposit”, which wasn’t necessarily meant to be derogatory, but it shows how they were taken for granted. And Sarawak especially is really very different from the Peninsula, which it almost equals in size. It is home to at least 34 different ethnicities, with the Iban, known for their traditional longhouses, making up about 30 per cent of the population. They have their own traditions, languages, culture and spiritual beliefs, and most Sarawakians are insistent that they don't want to import the racial and religious issues that often roil the Peninsula.
They have made significant advances in recent years. In 2022, Fadillah Yusof became Malaysia’s first deputy prime minister to come from Sarawak, and earlier that year Abang Johari Tun Openg became the first chief minister of a state to be known by a higher title – that of premier. For Abang Jo, as he is universally known, this will resonate particularly strongly, as his father was one of Sarawak’s signatories to the Malaysia Agreement. He will also be aware of the precedent. From 1963 onwards, all of Malaysia’s constituent states had a chief minister, apart from Singapore, where Lee Kuan Yew retained the title of prime minister.
But Mr Lee, and his city-state, asked for too much. They wanted to change the country as a whole, which is why they were ejected from Malaysia two years later in 1965. Sarawak just wants the ability to have greater control of its own destiny. Not everything is plain sailing, but all of this has been handled so far, both by Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim in Kuala Lumpur, and by Premier Abang Jo in his state capital, Kuching, in such a friendly and diplomatic way, that I think Mr Saiful’s concept of the state nation and the example of Sarawak could be useful in many other situations.
Could it help reunification between China and Taiwan or Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland? Could it be relevant to disappointed nationalists in Scotland and Catalonia, or to the long-running Malay-separatist insurgency in southern Thailand?
At its heart, it’s about respect and recognition. And that, as any mediator or peacebuilder knows, can often be more important than the land, money or laws the dispute is nominally about.
