There is a guest column in the February 23, 2013 edition of The Nation, a daily in Bangkok, headlined "So who is the real Sultan of Sulu?". Written by Phillip Golingai of Kuala Lumpur's The Star, the column narrates the writer's encounter with Sultan E, a purported claimant to the sultanate, as well as tidbits on various pretenders who have surfaced in Malaysia now and then.
The point of the piece was, Malaysians don't know who the sultan is. And the tantalizing conclusion that the reader is led to, without realizing it, is that if we don't know who the Sultan is, then we don't really know who owns Sabah, right?
That cloud hasn't surfaced in the Philippine press. What we've seen so far from the coverage is that the Sultan, the legitimate heir to the throne, and his family are pressing hard for the vast landholdings they have somehow acquired from the Sultan of Brunei. Whether this is the real guy, or just another claimant, doesn't seem to be in question.
But given the sensitive chords struck by the recent 'reclamation' by the Sultan of his property from his Malaysian tenants, it probably is a question that we should look at before we start taking sides. While it would be good to wake up and realize we have suddenly added another island to the 7,107 we already own (albeit, much bigger than ninety nine percent of them), we can't root for the invasion army if it turns out he's not the genuine deal.
The idea that Sabah is ours is a romantic notion, indeed. When the topic is broached, the informal census I've taken seems to demonstrate a partiality towards the quixotic troop surrounded by Malaysian forces. Observers lean towards the conclusion that if the Malaysian government is still paying rent, then the Sultan (and therefore the Philippines) still owns Sabah.
Malaysia is caught in a bind. If it spills blood, will it later on be subject to reparation claims from the Philippine government if eons from now, a miracle happens and the Philippine government is adjudicated ownership of Sabah?
And really, how do you deal with a landlord who wants to inspect his property? Unlike most lease contracts that have made their way past my unfortunate desk, there probably is no mechanism for notice to be provided prior to inspection rights being exercised, and no standard safeguards for security, confidentiality and safety, built in into the contract between the sultanate and Malaysia.
And what are the rules for private leases between governments and individuals? If the individual wants to kick out a state, what can he do, really? Go to court and get a judge to issue a court order? Show up with a court sheriff and padlock the joint? Not so easy when it's an island we're talking about. A very big island. Even an enforcer from the United Nations might not quite make the grade.
Malaysia has to tread carefully. Aside from the friendly relations with the Philippine government that's being tested by this crisis, it obviously doesn't want to damage its own ownership claims, however tenuous that may be. Who knows what parchment might surface that would suddenly toss the claim of the Sultan of Sulu to history's dustbins?
Meanwhile, it's test all angles, including what every litigation lawyer worth his salt does when looking at a new case: asking what personality the plaintiff has. After all, many a case has been won by posing the primordial question: "who the heck are you?"