Malaysia’s PAS preaches ‘racial domination’ to woo young voters
They govern the north, dominate the opposition and claim to soon be the undisputed home of Malay nationalism. Is Putrajaya next for PAS?
“Whoever controls [online] media will gain their votes,” said the party’s deputy president, Tuan Ibrahim Tuan Man, in an interview with This Week in Asia.
Founded by religious scholars in 1951 amid the struggle for independence from British rule, PAS was created to ensure the voice of political Islam reverberates through Malaysia’s halls of power. From its modest beginnings in Penang, the party’s message – faith as the foundation of governance – is now being heard loud and clear across the Malay heartlands.
At the last election in 2022, a “green wave” swept PAS into parliament as Malaysia’s single largest party, capturing 43 seats concentrated in the conservative northern states of Kedah, Kelantan, Perlis and Terengganu. Green, both the colour of the party and Islam itself, became synonymous with its ascendance.
Now, PAS is looking to extend its appeal beyond those pious, rural bastions. In the next election, due by early 2028, it aims to become the undisputed home of Malay nationalist politics.
“The time has come to lead Malays,” Tuan Ibrahim said, wearing his trademark kopiah – the Malay term for a Muslim skullcap – with a neatly trimmed moustache and beard.
Malays account for more than half of Malaysia’s 34 million people, making them a decisive constituency for anyone with ambitions on power – and their vote is now up for grabs as the once-dominant United Malays National Organisation’s authority continues to wane under the weight of scandals and internal strife.
Well-organised and digitally nimble, PAS has outpaced its rivals in mastering social media. During the last election, young religious influencers unaffiliated with the party helped drive its online messaging with viral TikTok videos and hashtags such as #AnakMudaSokongPAS (“Youth support PAS”) and #PASdihati (“PAS in my heart”).
Next time around, the party believes it can cast its net even wider and capture the urban youth vote.
“We think we can get between 45 and 50 per cent [of the youth vote] in the next election, maybe even more in certain places,” Tuan Ibrahim said, adding that Malaysians aged 40 and under “will decide the outcome of the next election”.
Baiting Anwar
The Islamist party even captured his family’s former stronghold of Permatang Pauh in Penang, defeating his daughter Nurul Izzah in 2022.
Critics accuse PAS of manipulating ethnic insecurities and moral panic to build its base, claiming it exploits issues of religion and morality to divide Malaysia’s multicultural society.
But the party insists it merely reflects the values of the Malay majority, who are predominantly Muslim.
“Our view is that racial domination creates stability,” Tuan Ibrahim said flatly. “If the majority race does not lead the country, it will create conflict.”
Our view is that racial domination creates stability
“Ethnic polarisation is likely to persist, and may even deepen in the next election,” said Asrul Sani, associate vice-president at The Asia Group, an American strategic advisory firm.
“That dynamic underpins PAS’ confidence in further consolidating the Malay vote.”
Inside the opposition Perikatan Nasional alliance, PAS already outnumbers its partner Bersatu in parliament and is manoeuvring to take full control.
Should that happen before the next election, PAS would not only be Perikatan Nasional’s dominant voice but also the party responsible for its policy direction. In Malaysia’s system of political coalitions, that could put the party within touching distance of the prime minister’s office.
From piety to power
PAS is no stranger to alliances, having previously formed a coalition with Anwar himself. But its steadfast ambition remains the establishment of a state guided by Islamic principles outlined in the Koran: a vision that stands in stark contrast to a political establishment often mired in scandal.
Much of PAS’ success stems from decades of groundwork. Boasting more than a million members, the party has cultivated an image of moral integrity.
“To the Malays and as Muslims, corruption is a grievous sin,” said Kamil Mohammad, 56, a PAS supporter in Kuala Lumpur. “All that corruption in Umno was just terrible … You don’t hear any accusations of corruption against PAS leaders.”
PAS’ subsequent alliance with Bersatu, an Umno offshoot, delivered 74 combined seats in 2022, all in Malay-majority constituencies.
“Our direct competition is Umno, and their performance has been falling,” Tuan Ibrahim said.
“If this trend continues, we could take over the states of Perak, Selangor and Pahang … maybe even Negeri Sembilan next.”
Reform vs reaction
PAS’ rise placed Anwar in a political bind. Critics say he initially tempered his reformist instincts to stem the party’s growing influence among Malays.
Pakatan Harapan’s support base “has seriously eroded”, said Bridget Welsh, an honorary research associate at the University of Nottingham Malaysia’s Asia Research Institute. “Anwar is good at making promises rather than delivering on them.”
“This year is critical for substantively delivering on promises of political reform, a legacy as well as a base to win back support,” she added.
Yet Malaysian politics rarely hinges on one ethnic group. To govern, coalitions must bridge the country’s complex ethnic and religious divides. Anwar’s Pakatan Harapan won 82 seats in 2022, many in Chinese and Indian enclaves, but needed Umno and the Borneo-based Sarawak Parties Alliance (GPS) to muster a ruling majority.
They are very extreme, especially on social issues and religion
A PAS-led Perikatan Nasional, by contrast, stands to rally the Malay-Muslim bloc while simultaneously alienating voters from ethnic minority groups wary of its religious exclusivity.
“They are very extreme, especially on social issues and religion,” said Azmi Hassan, a senior fellow at the Nusantara Academy for Strategic Research. “This will be a turn-off for the non-Malay vote.”
The party’s moral policing, often through local religious authorities, has burnished its image as a guardian of Islamic virtue.
The party has also railed against concerts and other “Western influences” as threats to Muslim values and its years in charge of states such as Terengganu and Kelantan have emboldened public morality enforcement.
Malaysia’s dual legal system allows sharia courts to govern personal and moral conduct for Muslims, but critics say PAS is intent on making Islamic law the country’s de facto system. The party has not denied that is its objective.
While PAS thrives on moral authority, it has long struggled with economic management. It governs some of Malaysia’s poorest states, notably Kelantan, which it has ruled since 1990. Its leaders blame the federal government for withholding oil and gas royalties, but some residents are less convinced.
“It’s hard to raise a family on just 1,000 ringgit (US$250) a month,” said 26-year-old e-hailing rider Razlan Kasim, who left Kelantan for Kuala Lumpur. “[Though] of course, we still have a lot of respect for our state’s leaders.”
That economic malaise could be PAS’ Achilles’ heel. A Merdeka Centre survey in May 2025 found three in four Malaysians prioritised livelihoods over racial or religious issues. For the prime minister, that presents a potential opening.
“The more important thing is how Anwar is tackling the cost of living facing everyday citizens right now,” Nusantara Academy’s Azmi said. “That is way more important compared to institutional reforms.”
Impulse control: Malaysia’s social media ban targets teen minds
The government is threatening to pull the plug on social media for under-16s after a spate of youth violence linked to life online
Eric Wong is only 20, but his life online is so consuming that he struggles to draw a line between his digital presence and the physical world.
“If there’s time in between classes, me and my friends will gather in the cafeteria or the nearby mamak (food stall) to play PUBG or Mobile Legends,” the engineering student told This Week in Asia, referring to two popular mobile games.
“If not, I’m checking out TikTok or Instagram. My parents think me and my friends don’t communicate, but we are always chatting on our phones. It’s just easier to share things that way.”
For Wong and millions of others like him, content is never more than a tap away and boredom has practically gone extinct.
But psychologists warn that this constant connectivity has a darker side. The relentless barrage of likes, rejection and digital rewards has begun reshaping how younger users react to the outside world, sometimes with harmful consequences.
While social media may not directly cause acts of violence or abuse, mental health experts increasingly believe it can amplify risky impulses among vulnerable teens.