KUALA LUMPUR: If there is one constant in Malaysian sport, it is instability.
With every change of a Youth and Sports Minister comes a familiar routine – flagship programmes are dismantled, boards reshuffled, loyalists replaced, and a “new direction” announced with great fanfare.
When Datuk Seri Hishamuddin Hussein was in office, X-Games was an attraction. When Datuk Seri Azalina Othman Said took over, she championed women in sports, among other initiatives. Then came Datuk Seri Ismail Sabri Yaakob’s short stint at Menara KBS in Putrajaya, followed by Datuk Seri Ahmad Shabery Cheek, whose tenure saw the Road to London 2012 and Road to Rio 2016 programmes, alongside efforts to promote the sports industry.
Khairy Jamaluddin later introduced the Podium Programme, which has somewhat survived under Syed Saddiq Syed Abdul Rahman, Datuk Seri Reezal Merican Naina Merican, Datuk Seri Ahmad Faizal Azumu and Hannah Yeoh.
Yeoh added another initiative called Road to Gold (RTG) during her tenure – yet another attempt to finally deliver Malaysia’s elusive Olympic gold medal.
Now Malaysia has another minister in office – Dr Mohammed Taufiq Johari. The 29-year-old, who studied medicine but has yet to practise, is now tasked with overseeing the development and progress of youth and sports in Malaysia.
Stakeholders are already wondering whether RTG will be dismantled. All eyes are also on the National Sports Council (NSC) board, as the tenure of the current team ends on April 30.
RTG has been described as a “top-up” service to the existing Podium Programme. Those who benefitted from RTG sing its praises. Others argue that it merely acts as a band-aid, masking weaknesses within the Podium Programme itself. They contend that the Podium Programme should instead be allowed to evolve and strengthen organically.
Then there is the NSC board. Taufiq would most probably want Datuk Seri Lee Chong Wei alongside him, given the former world No. 1 shuttler’s popularity and his ongoing work with the Badminton Association of Malaysia (BAM). Tan Sri Norza Zakaria of the Olympic Council of Malaysia (OCM) is also expected to stay put, although it remains to be seen whether Taufiq can manage a former politician-turned-sports administrator with immense influence, both locally and internationally.
As for the rest of the board, Taufiq may well replace them with allies – giving them little more than bragging rights of being seated among the who’s who of Malaysian sport.
Yet, there has not been a single word from Menara KBS on the plan moving forward.
Perhaps administrators are busy bringing Taufiq up to speed on the roles and responsibilities of a minister, the football fiasco that has damaged the nation’s reputation, the powerful personalities within Malaysia’s sporting ecosystem, dealing with officials from national associations who treat taxpayers’ funds as a birthright, and explaining what the National Sports Vision (Visi Sukan Negara) 2030 actually entails.
Or perhaps Taufiq’s focus lies primarily on youth-related initiatives – the main reason he replaced Yeoh. It also remains to be seen whether he will assign his slightly senior deputy, Mordi Bimol, a clearly defined portfolio.
By now, Taufiq would have been briefed on the demanding twists and turns of Malaysian sport. This is an intense period for him politically as well. He and other PKR leaders must convince the grassroots why Tengku Datuk Seri Zafrul Abdul Aziz, a failed politician, appears poised to bypass more senior figures and contest in Ampang at the next general election. Taufiq must also strengthen his standing in Sungai Petani and find ways to win over young voters drifting towards Pas – a Herculean task by any measure.
What Taufiq cannot afford is to play the “I’m so popular” card on social media – an art mastered by several of his predecessors. He needs to clearly outline his agenda and manage expectations, rather than keep stakeholders in the dark.
He should also understand that the sports media is not interested in playing public relations for the ministry. They demand accountability, transparency and measurable progress.
Malaysian sport does not need a minister who wants to be liked. It needs one prepared to be uncomfortable and make the right – not popular – decisions.
Taufiq now stands at a crossroads. He can either repeat the same destructive cycle – replacing programmes, reshuffling boards, announcing new slogans, and quietly presiding over stagnation while boasting about achievements at year-end – or break from tradition by consolidating power, protecting expertise, and building a system that survives beyond his own tenure.
The danger is obvious. Many before him arrived with good intentions but left without impact. The trap is seductive – appease stakeholders, avoid conflict, promise “engagement”, and allow bureaucracy to govern itself. That path leads nowhere.
Malaysia’s problem is not talent. It is governance cowardice.
Ministers come and go, but the system must remain. Performance planning spans decades, not a single Olympic cycle. Politics must be kept out of selection, funding, and development pathways.
Until Malaysia learns this lesson, no new minister – no matter how young, articulate, or ambitious – will succeed.
If Taufiq chooses caution and conciliation, he risks becoming just another name on a long list of ministers who promised reform but delivered inertia. But if he is firm, selective, and unapologetically long-term, he might finally do what so many before him failed to do – stop Malaysian sport from tripping over itself.
The choice is his. The consequences will, once again, be borne by the athletes and the fans.
