When Malaysia Airports Holdings Berhad (MAHB) was taken private under a Global Infrastructure Partner (GIP)-led consortium involving Khazanah, EPF and ADIA, it came with grand promises. We were told it would unlock transformation across Malaysia’s aviation network—from KLIA to Penang, from Subang to Sabah.
GIP, backed by BlackRock, sold us the story of efficiency, modernisation, and long-term vision. But beneath the headlines, it was always about something else: the quiet transfer of public assets into private hands.
Those fears are no longer theoretical. On 30th July, Turkish newspaper Hürriyet published a blistering commentary by veteran aviation columnist Uğur Cebeci, who described Sabiha Gökçen International Airport—known by its airport code, ISG—as a site of dysfunction.
ISG is operated by MAHB
ISG is fully operated by MAHB through its 100% ownership of ISG International Airport Investment and Management Inc. MAHB has managed the airport since 2014, making ISG its largest international asset.
Overcrowded terminals without functioning cooling systems. Toilets in disrepair. Long queues, overpriced food, and even neglected religious spaces. Planes forced to idle on the tarmac for over 40 minutes due to traffic mismanagement.
As a Muslim country the Malaysian company (MAHB) cannot even properly manage the prayer room
– Uğur Cebeci, veteran aviation columnist
Terminal 1 renovations, once announced with fanfare, now delayed. Most damning of all, the newly opened second runway had to be shut down for nine days in July, during the peak travel season, without a clear explanation.
Passengers endure the heat and the queues.
For Malaysians, this is not just a foreign problem. It is a reflection of what happens when a privatisation model prioritises returns over reinvestment.
It is the crown jewel of MAHB’s international portfolio, frequently used to justify the valuation in last year’s RM11-per-share buyout. And now, it stands as a glaring symbol of operational neglect.
In Turkey, it is the government—not MAHB—that has borne the cost of new terminals and runway expansion. The operator merely collects. It reinvests little. It delivers even less. There is no transparency on capex, no visible urgency, and no accountability. Sound familiar?
These are the very patterns that Malaysians are starting to recognise at home. The KLIA aerotrain project completed late. No clear infrastructure roadmap has been shared with the public. Despite the PR spin, the “efficiency gains” we were promised increasingly resemble a slow retreat from ambition.
If MAHB, under GIP and BlackRock’s oversight, cannot even deliver the basics in Istanbul—how can we trust them to steward Malaysia’s aviation future? How long before KLIA becomes the next ISG?
The core issue is no longer about shareholder value or takeover premiums. It is about the long-term consequences of ceding control over critical national infrastructure to a model that thrives in opacity.
The elite circle that orchestrated this deal is banking on short public memory. But we must not let them forget.
Who is funding the upgrades at ISG—if not MAHB? Where is the promised reinvestment in Malaysia? Why is one of the airports in the MAHB system falling apart under our watch? And when will KLIA, Penang, Subang, and Sabah get the attention they were promised?
The truth is no longer speculative. It is visible—in Istanbul’s departure halls, in the heat of its overcrowded terminals, in the frustration of passengers, and in the silence of a privatised operator that seems to answer to no one.
The dysfunction is global. The model is broken. And the reckoning has begun.
