Return Merit, Restore Malaysian Football
The qualification of Uzbekistan, Jordan, Cape Verde, Curaçao, and Haiti for the 2026 FIFA World Cup has reshaped global football expectations and delivered a loud message to nations still struggling with direction and identity including Malaysia.
Except for Haiti, making its
second appearance after 1974, these nations are stepping onto the world stage
for the first time in history. Their achievement is not accidental, nor is it a
miracle but it is the product of years of systematic planning, investment in
grassroots development, and football administration grounded in professionalism
rather than political symbolism.
Watching these nations rise while
Malaysia continues to stumble forces an uncomfortable but necessary reflection:
how did a country that once dominated Southeast Asian football fall so far
behind?
During the 1970s and early 1980s,
Malaysia commanded respect on the Asian football scene. The names of legends
such as Mokhtar Dahari, R. Arumugam, Hassan Sani, Santokh Singh, Soh Chin Ann,
Shukor Salleh, James Wong, and Gilbert Cassidy Gawing evoked national pride and
represented a Malaysia where football transcended ethnicity, religion, and
politics.
The national team reflected
Malaysian diversity, which is built on merit, not manipulated by
socio-political considerations. That was the era when Malaysia qualified for
the Moscow 1980 Olympics (even though geopolitical decisions prevented
participation). Today, however, the national squad reflects not unity or
identity, but inconsistency, confusion, and misplaced priorities.
The recent foreign player debacle
involving the Football Association of Malaysia (FAM) only worsened the
perception of the national football ecosystem. Naturalisation is not inherently
flawed as many successful teams use it strategically. Japan, Qatar, Australia,
and even European powerhouses such as France and Germany incorporate
naturalised players.
But in those systems, naturalised
athletes are additions to strong developmental structures not replacements for
what is missing. Malaysia approached naturalisation differently: as a shortcut
rather than a complement.
Instead of nurturing young
talent, improving coaching standards, strengthening the competitive structure
of domestic leagues, or establishing proper scouting networks, we looked
outward to patch internal weaknesses. That approach was destined to collapse
because football excellence cannot be bought but it must be built.
In contrast, the newly qualified
nations followed coherent strategies. Uzbekistan and Jordan invested heavily in
football academies, coaching certification systems, and league development.
Their national teams are anchored by homegrown players shaped by clear football
philosophies.
Cape Verde and Curaçao created
systems to engage and integrate their diaspora talent not as a last-minute fix,
but through structured long-term planning. Haiti, despite decades of political
instability, built resilience through continuity and participation in
international tournaments. Their success is tied to identity and system, not desperation.
Malaysia’s failures are not due
to lack of talent. There are talented footballers across the country from rural
pitches in Kedah and Sabah to urban futsal courts in Kuala Lumpur and Johor.
The problem lies in a system where governance, coaching structure, youth
development, and player pathways lack coherence.
Talent cannot thrive in a system
where politics outweighs competence and where leadership is determined by
loyalty rather than expertise. Sports administration in Malaysia is often
treated as a ceremonial extension of political influence or public service
patronage. Football today is an industry -data driven, science infused,
commercially structured not a hobby or vanity project.
To move forward, Malaysia must
confront several hard truths. First, football governance must be
professionalised. Sports bodies should no longer be led by politicians, retired
civil servants, or individuals with no technical knowledge of the sport.
Instead, administration should
involve former national players trained in sports management, technical
directors, sports scientists, and professionally certified leadership teams.
Competency not connections must determine who leads.
Second, grassroots football must
become the centre of national football development. The ecosystem needs
structured academies, talent scouting, partnerships with schools, competitive
youth leagues, and coaching programmes aligned with international standards.
Until a child from any Malaysian
town can access professional coaching and a clear talent pathway, the idea of
producing world-stage footballers remains fantasy.
Third, Malaysia must rediscover
its football identity. The national team should once again represent the
diversity of the country - just as it did during the golden era. Football
cannot be constrained by race, religion, or cultural considerations.
Selections must be based purely
on ability, performance, discipline, and potential. To rebuild identity, the
sport must return to the values of unity and meritocracy.
Fourth, naturalisation must be
reframed not abandoned. If applied responsibly, long-term naturalised players
can strengthen the squad, but they should be integrated only when they align
with cultural identity, are willing to commit to Malaysia long-term, and
contribute to raising the standards of local football not merely filling gaps
or chasing short-term results.
Finally, accountability must
become non-negotiable. Every failed policy, every financial expenditure, every
appointment, and every decision affecting the national team must be transparent
and measurable. Without accountability, reform becomes rhetoric.
The qualification of so many
emerging football nations to the 2026 World Cup should inspire Malaysia, not
demoralise it. Their success proves that football progress does not require
wealth, historical supremacy, or large populations. It requires vision, structure,
leadership, and unwavering commitment.
The current situation in
Malaysian football is not just a crisis, but it is a turning point. The FAM
controversy should serve as a national alarm bell reminding us that shortcuts
are not strategies and that pride cannot be restored through administrative
convenience.
Malaysia can rise again. The
talent exists. The passion exists. The history exists. What is missing is
direction, courage, and the willingness to rebuild football from its
foundations not from its image.
If we return merit to the system,
restore inclusivity, invest in youth, and embrace professionalism, Malaysia may
once again earn the right to stand among Asia’s footballing nations—not through
hope, but through work.
And perhaps one day, like
Uzbekistan, Jordan, Curaçao, Cape Verde, and Haiti, Malaysia too will celebrate
qualification not as memory, but as reality.
20.11.2025
Kuala Lumpur.
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