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Murray Hunter
A National Embarrassment!
By Ibrahim Ahmad
Feb 08, 2025
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F307384f4-e05d-449e-a91e-9174318eef52_1080x719.webp)
The Malaysian Institute of Economic Research (MIER) is a national embarrassment. Once a respected institution providing valuable economic insights, it has now become a shell of its former self, a bankrupt relic clinging desperately to relevance.
Wages at MIER have gone unpaid, rent is overdue, and not a single significant project has materialized in years. The institute, which once shaped policy discourse with its Business Conditions Index (BCI) and Consumer Sentiments Index (CSI), has been discarded by Bank Negara Malaysia and the Monetary Authority of Singapore. Both institutions have stopped tracking MIER’s indices, opting instead to develop their own—an implicit but damning verdict on MIER’s irrelevance. While it’s latest CEO Brief produced in collaboration with the Malaysian Investment Development Authority (MIDA) is eerily similar to reports generated by another outfit, the The Kingsley Strategic Institute for Asia Pacific (KSI).
The rot runs deep.
MIER has been mismanaged by a revolving door of unqualified leadership, each more incompetent than the last. One director, a Singaporean national with a red IC, was unceremoniously dismissed before completing her term. Another, who had previously been ousted from both Bank Negara and MIDF Research for misconduct, had no academic footprint whatsoever. Instead, he was more renowned for peddling sausages and fish crackers—yet somehow, he managed to ingratiate himself with Sulaiman Mahbob, Azmin Ali, Mustapa and Salleh Kamil amongst others, playing the role of an errand boy in Muhyiddin Yassin’s National Recovery Council.
This is the level of decay MIER has sunk to. It is no surprise, then, that both the Ministry of Finance and the Ministry of Economy have completely defunded it. These ministries no longer even bother to send representatives to MIER’s Board of Trustees. No minister is willing to associate themselves with this sinking ship—except for the occasional photo op, out of sheer courtesy.
The proof of the pudding is in the eating. The last time MIER attempted to hold its once-prestigious National Economic Outlook Conference, it was forced to offer free attendance because no one saw any value in paying for an event from an institute in terminal decline.
Attempts to secure financial aid from government-linked companies (GLCs) and government-linked investment companies (GLICs) have been met with deafening silence. The institute’s desperate letters seeking grants are ignored, and rightfully so. At this point, MIER is not just irrelevant—it is toxic.
Rumors of financial mismanagement, possible money laundering, and questionable hiring of foreign nationals as “expert research staff” only add to the stench. MIER is no longer a think tank; it has become a septic tank. The question is no longer how to save it, but why it should even exist?
The Slow, Shameful Collapse of MIER
When Tun Mahathir became Prime Minister in 1981, he inherited a civil service that was professional, highly fluent in English, and world-class—capable enough to argue Malaysia’s case on the international stage, even over matters as complex as Antarctica.
At that time, Mahathir sought to provide more opportunities for indigenous Malays, a noble effort, but one that was ultimately hijacked by opportunists. The problem wasn’t a lack of talent—top-notch Malays like Tun Ismail Ali and Tan Sri Zain Azraai had already proven themselves. Instead, the door was thrown open to a new breed of bureaucratic parasites—Indonesians masquerading as Malays—who saw government service not as a duty but as a gold mine. Politicians of Indonesian ancestry became the political facilitator, and the bureaucrats-for-hire, exploited this opportunity shamelessly. Scholarships were hoarded for their kin, government positions were distributed like family heirlooms, and the civil service was downgraded into a hollowed-out bureaucracy where competence took a back seat to cronyism.
With these people in the driver’s seat, the civil service lost its way. It was no longer about nation-building—it was about self-enrichment. Government inefficiency became the norm, and with the collusion of the National Registration Department, mass naturalization of Indonesians into “Malays” only worsened the problem.
The result? A generation of civil servants who were parochial, inward-looking, and wholly incompetent—while ironically, Indonesia itself was undergoing a transformation into a world-class economy! The contrast is striking: the civil servants of yesteryear—men like Sheriff Kassim, Ramon Navaratnam, Clifford Herbert, and Dennis Ignatius—were professionals of the highest calibre. Sulaiman Mahbob, by comparison, is an absolute lightweight, a man who rode to the top not on merit but by playing the race card and securing political patronage. Without his backroom deals and political lifelines, he would have been irrelevant long ago.
This toxic culture of patronage and mediocrity seeped into every institution, and MIER became one of its many casualties. What was once a leading think tank is now a defunct, disgraced entity, reduced to begging for funds that no serious policymaker is willing to give. What right does the Board of Trustees have to gate-crash and demand funds from the offices of the Prime Minister, the Minister of Finance, the Minister of Economics or even the Governor of Bank Negara Malaysia?
MIER’s decline is not an accident—it is the inevitable result of a system where opportunists, not experts, are given the reins. Today, ministers avoid MIER like the plague, knowing full well it has nothing of value to offer. The institute’s last conference had to offer free attendance because no one saw any reason to pay for insights from an institution that has lost all credibility. Its funding requests to GLCs and GLICs are met with silence, and for good reason. MIER is no longer a think tank—it is a national embarrassment, a testament to how far Malaysia’s institutions have fallen under the weight of corruption, cronyism, and sheer incompetence.
—————————
Ibrahim Ahmad is a correspondent of Southeast Asian Affairs.
Feb 08, 2025
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F307384f4-e05d-449e-a91e-9174318eef52_1080x719.webp)
The Malaysian Institute of Economic Research (MIER) is a national embarrassment. Once a respected institution providing valuable economic insights, it has now become a shell of its former self, a bankrupt relic clinging desperately to relevance.
Wages at MIER have gone unpaid, rent is overdue, and not a single significant project has materialized in years. The institute, which once shaped policy discourse with its Business Conditions Index (BCI) and Consumer Sentiments Index (CSI), has been discarded by Bank Negara Malaysia and the Monetary Authority of Singapore. Both institutions have stopped tracking MIER’s indices, opting instead to develop their own—an implicit but damning verdict on MIER’s irrelevance. While it’s latest CEO Brief produced in collaboration with the Malaysian Investment Development Authority (MIDA) is eerily similar to reports generated by another outfit, the The Kingsley Strategic Institute for Asia Pacific (KSI).
The rot runs deep.
MIER has been mismanaged by a revolving door of unqualified leadership, each more incompetent than the last. One director, a Singaporean national with a red IC, was unceremoniously dismissed before completing her term. Another, who had previously been ousted from both Bank Negara and MIDF Research for misconduct, had no academic footprint whatsoever. Instead, he was more renowned for peddling sausages and fish crackers—yet somehow, he managed to ingratiate himself with Sulaiman Mahbob, Azmin Ali, Mustapa and Salleh Kamil amongst others, playing the role of an errand boy in Muhyiddin Yassin’s National Recovery Council.
This is the level of decay MIER has sunk to. It is no surprise, then, that both the Ministry of Finance and the Ministry of Economy have completely defunded it. These ministries no longer even bother to send representatives to MIER’s Board of Trustees. No minister is willing to associate themselves with this sinking ship—except for the occasional photo op, out of sheer courtesy.
The proof of the pudding is in the eating. The last time MIER attempted to hold its once-prestigious National Economic Outlook Conference, it was forced to offer free attendance because no one saw any value in paying for an event from an institute in terminal decline.
Attempts to secure financial aid from government-linked companies (GLCs) and government-linked investment companies (GLICs) have been met with deafening silence. The institute’s desperate letters seeking grants are ignored, and rightfully so. At this point, MIER is not just irrelevant—it is toxic.
Rumors of financial mismanagement, possible money laundering, and questionable hiring of foreign nationals as “expert research staff” only add to the stench. MIER is no longer a think tank; it has become a septic tank. The question is no longer how to save it, but why it should even exist?
The Slow, Shameful Collapse of MIER
When Tun Mahathir became Prime Minister in 1981, he inherited a civil service that was professional, highly fluent in English, and world-class—capable enough to argue Malaysia’s case on the international stage, even over matters as complex as Antarctica.
At that time, Mahathir sought to provide more opportunities for indigenous Malays, a noble effort, but one that was ultimately hijacked by opportunists. The problem wasn’t a lack of talent—top-notch Malays like Tun Ismail Ali and Tan Sri Zain Azraai had already proven themselves. Instead, the door was thrown open to a new breed of bureaucratic parasites—Indonesians masquerading as Malays—who saw government service not as a duty but as a gold mine. Politicians of Indonesian ancestry became the political facilitator, and the bureaucrats-for-hire, exploited this opportunity shamelessly. Scholarships were hoarded for their kin, government positions were distributed like family heirlooms, and the civil service was downgraded into a hollowed-out bureaucracy where competence took a back seat to cronyism.
With these people in the driver’s seat, the civil service lost its way. It was no longer about nation-building—it was about self-enrichment. Government inefficiency became the norm, and with the collusion of the National Registration Department, mass naturalization of Indonesians into “Malays” only worsened the problem.
The result? A generation of civil servants who were parochial, inward-looking, and wholly incompetent—while ironically, Indonesia itself was undergoing a transformation into a world-class economy! The contrast is striking: the civil servants of yesteryear—men like Sheriff Kassim, Ramon Navaratnam, Clifford Herbert, and Dennis Ignatius—were professionals of the highest calibre. Sulaiman Mahbob, by comparison, is an absolute lightweight, a man who rode to the top not on merit but by playing the race card and securing political patronage. Without his backroom deals and political lifelines, he would have been irrelevant long ago.
This toxic culture of patronage and mediocrity seeped into every institution, and MIER became one of its many casualties. What was once a leading think tank is now a defunct, disgraced entity, reduced to begging for funds that no serious policymaker is willing to give. What right does the Board of Trustees have to gate-crash and demand funds from the offices of the Prime Minister, the Minister of Finance, the Minister of Economics or even the Governor of Bank Negara Malaysia?
MIER’s decline is not an accident—it is the inevitable result of a system where opportunists, not experts, are given the reins. Today, ministers avoid MIER like the plague, knowing full well it has nothing of value to offer. The institute’s last conference had to offer free attendance because no one saw any reason to pay for insights from an institution that has lost all credibility. Its funding requests to GLCs and GLICs are met with silence, and for good reason. MIER is no longer a think tank—it is a national embarrassment, a testament to how far Malaysia’s institutions have fallen under the weight of corruption, cronyism, and sheer incompetence.
—————————
Ibrahim Ahmad is a correspondent of Southeast Asian Affairs.
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