Why Asia’s Grand Old Parties Keep Losing (and Sometimes Don’t)

There is no magic recipe ...

The landslide victory of Takachi and the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) in Japan’s recent general election has predictably sparked commentary back home. Almost immediately, suggestions surfaced that UMNO should “study the LDP formula” if it hopes to reclaim Putrajaya. 

Only a few months earlier, a different crowd was busy urging Malaysian parties to emulate Zohran Mamdani’s insurgent win in the New York City mayoral race. Before that, it was Modi. Before that, Erdogan. Before that, someone else with a microphone and momentum. Not long ago, Jokowi was fashionable.

If politics were a cookbook, Asian Grand Old Parties (GOPs) would be binge-watching foreign elections like cooking shows and hoping the dish magically turns out the same. Unfortunately, politics is less MasterChef and more kampung kenduri: same ingredients, wildly different outcomes, and someone always complains the rendang is too dry.

A quick look across Asia should sober anyone tempted by the “copy-paste” approach.

Take the fallen GOPs. Indonesia’s Golkar has never fully returned to its Suharto-era dominance. India’s Congress Party, once synonymous with the Indian state itself, now survives more on legacy than momentum. Bangladesh’s Sheikh Hasina — long assumed unassailable — was abruptly removed from power. In each case, these parties once looked permanent. In each case, permanence turned out to be an illusion.

Then there are the survivors. The Communist Party of China, Vietnam’s Communist Party, and Singapore’s PAP remain firmly in control. Elections are held, but power barely trembles. 

Elsewhere, Thailand oscillates between coups, courts and ballots, while Myanmar lurches tragically from one rupture to another. Nepal, too, seems perpetually suspended between transition and turbulence.

So what explains this uneven map of collapse, survival and flux?

The short answer — and the uncomfortable one for UMNO — is that there is no standard formula. The longer answer is that each political system must be understood using what might be called the five senses of politics: see, hear, smell, feel, and finally, ponder.

First, see the structure of power. The LDP’s victory in Japan did not happen in a vacuum. It operates within a highly institutionalised bureaucracy, a strong civil service, disciplined factions, and an electorate that prizes stability over drama. The LDP is not merely a party; it is an operating system embedded into the Japanese state. 

UMNO once occupied a similar position — but crucially, no longer does. Pretending otherwise is political myopia.

Second, hear the electorate. Zohran Mamdani’s victory resonated with New York voters angry about housing, inequality and cost of living. His message worked because it spoke to their anxieties, not because it was progressive, youthful or viral. 

Transplanting his rhetoric into Malaysia without translation would be like shouting in English at a pasar malam and wondering why no one responds.

Third, smell the mood — especially decay. Many Asian GOPs collapsed not because voters suddenly embraced the opposition, but because the stench of arrogance, corruption or stagnation became unbearable. 

When voters feel disrespected, unheard, or taken for granted, ideology becomes secondary. Golkar and Congress did not lose power overnight; they lost credibility slowly, then suddenly.

Fourth, feel the ground realities. The PAP survives not because Singaporeans lack alternatives, but because material delivery, administrative competence and internal renewal remain credible. 

China and Vietnam endure because economic mobility — however uneven — still outweighs the risks of upheaval. Where living standards stagnate and inequality hardens, even the most entrenched parties eventually crack.

Finally, ponder — deeply and honestly. The most dangerous mistake a declining GOP can make is nostalgia. LDP strategists did not campaign on restoring Japan to 1980. They focused on competence, continuity and reassurance in an anxious world. 

UMNO, by contrast, often sounds like it is campaigning against time itself — yearning for an electorate that no longer exists and longing for a past young voters hardly know exist.

This is where the “LDP formula” narrative becomes misleading. Japan’s LDP did not win because it was old, conservative or nationalist. It won because it adapted within its own context. The same applies to every surviving party in Asia. 

None survived by imitation; all survived by calibration.

For UMNO, the lesson is not to find the next Takachi or the next Mamdani. The lesson is far more uncomfortable: there is no shortcut back to relevance. It requires institutional reform, generational trust-building, credible economic answers, and humility — a word GOPs historically dislike.

Politics is not a fragrance you import, a slogan you chant, or a hero you clone. It is sensory work: observing realities as they are, listening without filters, detecting decay early, feeling public anxiety honestly, and thinking beyond the next election.

Those who fail to use all five senses keep asking the same question after every loss: Which foreign victory should we copy next?

Those who succeed ask a harder one: What is actually happening here, right now, to our people?

And that, inconveniently, has no ready-made recipe.