Let us be honest from the start: the departure of Rafizi Ramli and Nik Nazmi from PKR is a serious blow.
When a party loses two of its most recognizable, articulate, and strategically minded leaders in one week, it is impossible to pretend otherwise. The wounds are real. The confusion among grassroots members is real.
But here is the question that needs asking: is this the beginning of the end for PKR—and by extension, Pakatan Harapan or is it simply a painful but survivable chapter in the long, messy story of Malaysian reform politics?
The answer, for those willing to look past the headlines, is closer to the latter.
How Did We Get Here?
To understand PKR's current turmoil, we have to rewind to the 2025 party elections. In April of that year, Nurul Izzah, the daughter of PKR president and Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim, was elected deputy president, defeating the incumbent Rafizi Ramli.
Let us be clear about something that critics of the government conveniently ignore. Nurul Izzah is not a political novice riding on her father's name. She has been a three-term MP for Lembah Pantai, a vocal advocate for institutional reform, and a consistent voice for human rights and judicial independence.
To reduce her victory to mere nepotism is to dismiss her own years of hard work and sacrifice—including time spent in lockups and courtrooms fighting for the very reforms that critics now claim she does not understand.
Rafizi, known for his data-driven campaigns and vast social media following, had every reason to feel disadvantaged by the change. His defeat stung, and he chose to step back from his cabinet position as Economy Minister rather than serve under a deputy president he believed had not won fairly.
This was the moment the cracks began to widen. Rafizi launched a podcast. He began openly questioning government decisions. He criticised the leadership. And PKR's disciplinary board responded with not one but two show-cause letters.
Was the party wrong to discipline him? That depends on one's view of party loyalty.
When a senior leader repeatedly attacks his own party and prime minister in public, the party cannot simply shrug and look away. The show-cause letters were not about silencing dissent. They were about drawing a line between constructive criticism and sustained public warfare against the party's own leadership.
Rafizi himself seemed to understand this. He dared the party to sack him, saying: "If my explanation is deemed to have violated the party constitution, then act as a normal party by taking disciplinary action, including expulsion."
The party, notably, did not expel him. The leadership hesitated. Anwar himself urged all parties to focus on economic issues rather than internal squabbles. Even in the midst of crisis, the prime minister extended an olive branch.
But by then, Rafizi had already made up his mind. On May 17, 2026, he and Nik Nazmi announced their exit from PKR and their takeover of Parti Bersama Malaysia. They vacated their parliamentary seats—Pandan and Setiawangsa—to avoid being labelled as party-hoppers. It was a calculated, legally clever, and politically devastating move.
Why PKR Will Survive
Rafizi and Nik Nazmi did not try to bring down the government. They did not lead a mass exodus of MPs to the opposition benches. They simply left—two individuals choosing a new political home. Painful, yes. Existential? No.
PKR has over one million registered members. Its party machinery remains intact across most states. It has deep roots in Selangor, Negeri Sembilan, Penang, and parts of Johor. And crucially, it remains the indispensable anchor of the Pakatan Harapan coalition.
Without PKR, there is no PH. Without PH, Malaysia's fragile unity government collapses. The opposition knows this. The backroom schemers know this. And that is precisely why they are celebrating Rafizi's departure so loudly.
But here is what the celebration misses. PKR has survived worse. It survived the 2020 Sheraton Move when more than a dozen of its MPs defected overnight. It survived the imprisonment of Anwar Ibrahim, the persecutions of the 1990s, the countless arrests, and the endless court cases. A party forged in the fire of Reformasi does not burn out simply because two senior leaders walk away.
The Road to Recovery
Recovery, however, requires honest self-reflection. PKR must confront uncomfortable truths about its internal culture. The perception of dynastic politics—whether fair or not—needs to be addressed transparently.
Anwar Ibrahim has navigated far more treacherous waters than these. The party's younger leaders—Fahmi Fadzil, Nik Nazmi's former comrades who stayed, and a new generation of branch leaders—have the opportunity to step up and fill the vacuum.
What should not happen is panic. PKR cannot afford to lurch left or right in response to Rafizi's departure. The party's reformist agenda remains valid. Its commitment to the Madani framework—economic growth, anti-corruption, and social justice—remains the right compass for Malaysia.
Critics will say that PKR has lost its soul. But souls are not lost by the departure of individuals, no matter how talented. Souls are lost when the party abandons its principles.
PKR has not done that. It remains a party that believes in multiracial justice, in parliamentary democracy, and in the patient, difficult work of reforming a nation one policy at a time.
Rafizi has chosen a different path. That is his right. But for those of us who still believe that Pakatan Harapan represents the best hope for a just, prosperous, and democratic Malaysia, the work continues.
The party will recover. The coalition will hold. And when the next election comes, the people will remember who stayed to fight—and who walked away to build a new platform in the middle of a crisis.
Staying is sometimes harder than leaving. But staying is also how real change gets done.