Malaysia's political landscape has undergone a fundamental transformation, giving rise to an unusual phenomenon that defies traditional categorisation: the political frenemy. This term describes any party or coalition that simultaneously functions as both partner and adversary, forming alliances driven by tactical necessity rather than ideological alignment or genuine partnership. These arrangements emerge when competing for power, parliamentary seats, or political influence, creating a paradox that confuses voters and obscures the true nature of political relationships.
The most visible manifestation of this frenemy dynamic currently operates at two distinct levels within Malaysian governance. At the federal tier, members of Barisan Nasional and Pakatan Harapan occupy neighbouring seats in Cabinet meetings, collaborating on national policy and maintaining the discipline required to sustain the unity government. Yet when state elections materialise—as witnessed during campaigns in Johor and Negri Sembilan—these same ministers abandon their façade of collaboration and actively campaign against one another. Cabinet colleagues who shared afternoon tea and strategic discussions hours earlier deliver stinging public critiques of their governmental partners, each attempting to prove their party's electoral viability to grassroots supporters hungry for a clear political identity.
The relationship between Umno and PAS exemplifies this frenemy phenomenon in its most volatile form, governed almost entirely by numerical advantage, mutual desperation, and the perpetual invocation of Malay-Muslim solidarity. Before the 2018 general election, these two powerhouses engaged in bitter direct competition for control of the Malay-Muslim voter base. Umno commanded the federal apparatus, while PAS dominated opposition politics in northern states like Kelantan and Terengganu. Their rivalry during the 14th General Election reflected genuine antagonism rooted in decades of competing for the same electoral constituency.
The Sheraton Move of 2020 fundamentally altered this calculus. When the Pakatan Harapan government collapsed through internal defection, Umno and PAS suddenly discovered mutual utility. Under Tan Sri Muhyiddin Yassin and subsequently Datuk Seri Ismail Sabri Yaakob, both parties governed within the same federal coalition, bound together less by shared vision than by arithmetic necessity. This arrangement appeared stable until the 15th General Election approached, when competing ambitions over seat allocations exploded into public warfare. The campaign trail witnessed unconcealed hostility as both parties fought to establish dominance within the Malay-Muslim political sphere.
The post-election environment introduced yet another layer of complexity. While Umno joined the federal unity government alongside Pakatan Harapan—ironically partnering with the coalition that defeated it four years earlier—PAS found itself on the opposition benches anchoring Perikatan Nasional. This seemingly clear federal division should have resolved the ambiguity, yet the frenemy dynamic simply migrated to state-level politics. During Johor's state elections, PAS instructed supporters to vote for Barisan candidates in constituencies where PAS fielded no contestant, strategically attempting to block Pakatan advances. In Negri Sembilan, pragmatic electoral calculations produced seat-sharing agreements between Barisan and Perikatan, designed to prevent vote-splitting rather than facilitate genuine collaboration.
This bewildering arrangement generates legitimate confusion among ordinary voters attempting to understand political alignments. When political figures engage in ferocious public attacks only to share a parliamentary cafeteria table hours later, laughing companionably over tea, the distinction between authentic opposition and performative hostility collapses. The tension between campaign theatre and governance reality reveals something fundamental about contemporary Malaysian politics: these relationships serve instrumental purposes disconnected from genuine ideological or policy differences.
Former Natural Resources and Environmental Sustainability Minister Nik Nazmi Nik Ahmad has articulated what might constitute a more honest framework for understanding these arrangements. Rather than obscuring the temporary, interest-based nature of these coalitions, political parties should transparently acknowledge what they actually are: marriages of convenience bound by specific electoral cycles and strategic vulnerabilities. The failure to establish clear temporal and ideological boundaries around the Pakatan-Barisan unity government has instead created an entanglement of contradictory signals. Umno members require grassroots reassurance that their party maintains independent electoral strength, necessitating competitive campaigns in state elections even as national governance proceeds on parallel tracks.
The vulnerability principle that Nik Nazmi identified operates as the true mechanism driving these frenemy relationships. Umno and PAS cooperate precisely when one or both face weakness relative to rivals, yet this cooperation invariably corrodes as electoral fortunes improve for either partner. In the 2022 general election, Perikatan's overwhelming victory, capturing 71 seats compared to Umno's dramatic collapse to 26 seats, inverted the previous power balance. This numerical reversal creates the conditions for exactly the kind of predatory behaviour that Nik Nazmi warned about: the moment a partner perceives itself as dominant, backstabbing becomes not merely possible but strategically rational.
Bersatu currently occupies the most precarious position within this frenemy ecosystem. Initially entering Pakatan Harapan as a mechanism to defeat Barisan in 2018, the party now finds itself squeezed between an increasingly dominant PAS within Perikatan—where Bersatu has been relegated to subordinate status—and the ruling coalition that initially provided its political platform. Facing what constitutes an existential crisis, Bersatu must navigate a Malay-Muslim political marketplace already saturated with larger, more established competitors. The party's limited relevance and constrained options suggest that political recycling may ultimately prove inevitable, with Bersatu potentially returning to Pakatan's embrace or else settling into a spoiler role designed to fragment opposition support.
As Malaysian electoral politics moves toward the next general election, the frenemy phenomenon will likely intensify rather than resolve. The fragmentation of political coalitions, combined with narrow parliamentary majorities and shifting electoral arithmetic, creates structural incentives for exactly these kinds of unstable, interest-based arrangements. Voters navigating this terrain must fundamentally recalibrate their expectations about political authenticity. The traditional distinction between government and opposition, friend and foe, has become increasingly permeable and contextual.
The oldest adage in political analysis ultimately proves most relevant to contemporary Malaysia: there exist no permanent allies and no permanent enemies, only fluctuating constellations of shared interests pursued by actors constantly reassessing their relative position. As fragmentation deepens before the next general election, the frenemy framework will likely become not the exception but the defining characteristic of Malaysian political competition. Understanding this reality, rather than yearning for the clarity of traditional two-bloc competition, provides the only accurate map for navigating an era where colleagues become opponents and opponents become colleagues with bewildering speed.
