On 1st September 2025, the Maldives Police Service (MPS) will mark 21 years since its formation as a separate civilian law enforcement agency. That is a milestone worth reflecting on, not just in celebration, but with critical introspection.
The truth is, despite these two decades of existence, we still fall short of what it means to be a professional police service. There are important lessons to acknowledge, uncomfortable truths to confront, and a pressing need to reset our direction.
A Rushed Beginning
Unlike other countries where policing evolved gradually under democratic norms, the Maldives took a fast and politically motivated route. The split from the National Security Service and creation of MPS in 2004 was not part of a long-term reform plan. It was a reactive move, one made under pressure, amid civil unrest and calls for change.
In many ways, it was a half-baked effort.
When I joined the police in 1995, it was still part of a militarised structure. Training, academic growth, and professional development were practically non-existent. During the nine years before the service became independent, opportunities were incredibly limited. Only after the institutional split did those doors begin to open, but the foundation remained weak.
Thrown Into the Fire
The early years of MPS were marked by political protests and unrest. We were a new institution, built from scratch, staffed with young and mostly untrained officers, and thrown straight into confrontations with angry citizens demanding reform. It was not a fair start, for the officers, or for the public.
Mistakes were made. Tactics were often heavy-handed. Trust, already fragile, was further eroded.
The democratic transition following the 2008 elections brought some hope but also exposed deep rifts within the state. Many in the security services were not ready for this shift. In 2012, those tensions culminated in the forced resignation of a sitting president. It was a painful moment for the country, and a stain on the police’s institutional credibility.
I spoke out against it, and I paid the price. I was dismissed for what they called “misconduct.” But I was not alone in feeling that something had gone deeply wrong.
The Lost Years
Between 2013 and 2018, MPS cycled through four different Commissioners of Police. All were capable men the state had invested in. All removed before their time.
This was not about performance, it was about politics. The deeper the political influence reached, the more the organisation suffered. Leadership instability meant no continuity, no long-term planning, and no real reform. Officers became cynical. The institution began to hollow from within.
I challenged my dismissal in court, with little hope in a compromised judiciary. But in 2018, I was reinstated through a Supreme Court ruling. I did not return with ambition. In fact, I pushed others to take the top job. But ultimately, I was appointed Commissioner.
Some believed this was because of political connections, especially given that I had previously written critically about the institution during my time abroad and was labelled as MDP-leaning. But I knew, and many inside the organisation also knew, that the appointment was about something else. A chance to do things differently.
Leading Through Reform
I would not use this space to review my time as Commissioner. That is for others to judge.
But I will say this: I led with purpose. I tried to insulate the institution from politics. We introduced processes to make leadership appointments more merit based. We redefined the selection of Deputy Commissioners and Commissioners to prevent handpicking by the political executive. We aimed for transparency and fairness.
There were fewer scandals. Better discipline. A growing sense of cohesion and professionalism.
And yet, as my tenure came to an end, I could already see the old habits returning. The transitional period after the 2023 election exposed how quickly political actors began manoeuvring within MPS. Secret meetings. Lobbying. Undermining colleagues. It was disheartening, but not surprising.
A Broken Cycle
Since I stepped down, MPS has seen two Commissioners in under two years. I expect we may see a third. That is not speculation, it is based on how things are currently being handled.
Each change in leadership brings disruption. Each political appointment chips away at the idea of a professional police service. And every time this happens, the public loses trust. Officers lose morale. And the institution loses its footing.
Some have claimed that my tenure lasted as long as it did only because of my family connection to the then-president. But anyone who knows me, or followed our work, knows that is a lazy explanation. What sustained my time in office was not politics. It was policy. It was discipline. It was a belief in a better, more accountable form of policing.
What Professionalism Really Means
We talk a lot about making the police “more professional.” But what does that mean?
It is not about appearances or international branding. It is about:
- Depoliticised leadership — Appointment processes that are fair, transparent, and shielded from political interference.
- Merit-based promotion — Career progression based on competence, not connections.
- Continuous development — Investing in academic, technical, and leadership training at every level.
- Independent accountability — Empowering internal and external oversight mechanisms to act without fear.
- Stable leadership — Giving leaders the time and space to see reforms through.
- Public trust — Building legitimacy through service, humility, and consistency.
The Road Ahead
MPS is not beyond saving. It has many capable men and women who care deeply about serving the public. But without structural changes and a cultural shift, professionalism will remain a slogan, not a reality.
It is not too late to fix it. But it requires courage. From those inside. From those in power. And from the public, who must demand better.
Twenty-one years is long enough to grow. Now we must mature.
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This article was written by former Commissioner of Police Mohamed Hameed.
