In 1988 a young lawyer in Kuala Terengganu put a sticker on his car. It read Tabik Hormat Untuk Lima Orang Hakim. Salute to the five judges... Thirty-seven years later, that lawyer became Chief Justice of Malaysia.
Read More
Every year the judges and lawyers of Malaysia played the lawyers of Singapore at games... In 1988 it was cancelled. ... Men can play cricket together again while the thing they serve is still broken.
Read More
Fourteen words went out. Three went in. What the courts had held by right, they now held by permission. Parliament gives. Parliament may take away. ... The heading is still there. Underneath it, there is none.
Read More
Three of them apologised. Two refused. That is how the story is usually told. It is wrong in every part.
Read More
The Supreme Court of Malaysia sat that Saturday at ten minutes to one. It had no registry.
Read More
Six men were appointed to try the head of the Malaysian judiciary. One of them would get his job.
Read More
The letter that brought down the Malaysian judiciary asked for nothing. It made no demand. It threatened nobody. It sought no remedy from any court. It expressed disappointment, and it expressed a hope. It was also not the Lord President's idea.
Read More
The head of the judiciary spent 1987 publicly refusing to criticise the Government. He was removed in 1988 for talking too much.
Read More
Thirty branches. Nobody had registered them. That was enough to kill the party that had governed Malaysia since independence. Not a coup. Not a scandal. Thirty forms nobody had filed.
Read More
A Prime Minister complained, on the record, of a judiciary that would not do as it was told. Two years of investigation later, the government's own panel could find exactly one ruling to support the complaint — and it favoured a foreigner, not a political enemy. A Lord President lost his career inside that gap.
Read More