A Doctor in The House: A Memoir of Tun Dr Mahathir Mohamad (112 page)

But we were not spared some painful losses. UMNO’s share of the number of parliamentary seats dropped from 89 to 72. Besides failing to re-take Kelantan from PAS, the Barisan Nasional also lost control of Terengganu to them for the first time in 40 years. PAS increased its share of parliamentary seats to 27, up from the seven it had won in the 1995 General Election, and made significant inroads into Kedah and Perlis, and to a lesser extent, into Pahang and Malacca. Every member of the Cabinet won with a reduced majority and four Ministers lost their seats altogether. One of the most startling results involved then Education Minister Datuk Seri Najib Razak, who was only able to hang on to his seat with a 241-vote lead, down from the over 10,000-vote majority he had won in 1995. We had anticipated losing ground in this election and I estimated that the image of Anwar’s black eye alone cost us some 300,000 votes.

The Barisan Nasional’s defeat in Terengganu was a big disappointment, but it was not entirely due to Anwar. The state’s 
Menteri Besar
 had stayed in office for far too long, longer than even my own premiership, but had insisted that he be given yet another term. Even loyal UMNO members could not bring themselves to support him and he lost. His defeat was not simply personal, however, as it also meant that Terengganu fell to PAS. Terengganu was and is the biggest producer of oil in Malaysia and five per cent of that revenue, worth almost RM1 billion a year, went to the state government. We knew that if the new PAS state government were to gain access to the money, they would likely use it to enhance their popularity and promote their cause. A way had to be found to deny them access to these funds. In September 2000, the Finance Ministry announced that the oil revenues, instead of going to the state government, would now be channelled directly into development projects to benefit the state’s population. PAS took its case to court, but the issue was not resolved even when the Barisan Nasional recaptured Terengganu in the 2004 General Election.

In Kedah meanwhile, the 
Menteri Besar
 had managed to antagonise the Civil Service, religious teachers and even some UMNO divisions. He won his seat but the Barisan Nasional
candidates, who were overwhelmingly UMNO members, barely managed to hold onto their two-thirds majority in the Kedah State Assembly. PAS was convinced it would capture Kedah at the next election.
[2]
 After the election, I decided it was essential that a new 
Menteri Besar
 be appointed. After considering our options I settled on Datuk Seri Syed Razak Syed Zain Barakhbah, a member of the State Executive Council. On my recommendation, the Sultan gave him the authority to form a new Executive Council, the equivalent of a Cabinet at the state level.
 

I did not realise that Tan Sri Osman Aroff, a previous 
Menteri Besar,
 was also keen to be reappointed. When I told him of my choice he was very disappointed. Years later, after I had stepped down as Prime Minister, this man campaigned hard against me when I tried to get elected by my old UMNO division in Kubang Pasu to be one of its representatives to the UMNO General Assembly. He made it known that I had given him nothing. Considering that I had made him 
Menteri Besar
 three times before replacing him, this was not easy to understand. I wondered what else I should have given him to make him more grateful.

Since stepping down, I have learnt that very few politicians can sustain their loyalty to anyone. Once you lose your position and power, they ignore you and transfer their loyalty and support to whoever has taken your place. They will even condemn you if they think doing so will please their new leader. “Nobody knows you when you’re down and out” the old song goes; the same wisdom holds true in Malay political life. While Malays like to talk about loyalty and claim to set great store by it, loyalty is not the dominant force in Malay politics, nor the main political motive or sentiment. In the Malay scheme of things, political loyalty is based not on the past, upon memory or gratitude, but on what the current leaders in power can offer. I was very sad to discover this.

The 1999 General Election results showed us that we needed to work harder to shore up Malay support for the Barisan Nasional. By that time, women made up almost half the members of UMNO, yet I noticed that the women’s wing, Wanita UMNO, had lost its dynamism. It had not always been that way—in UMNO’s early days, women played a big role in mobilising popular support. They were always very active during election campaigns and would fearlessly approach housewives to persuade them to support the party candidate and to vote. I always had great respect for Malay women. They were hardworking and responsible, often more so than men. In Kelantan, Malay women not only work in the padi fields but also make up most of the stallholders and traders in the town and city markets. In this way they provide the underlying network and the basic commercial infrastructure of the rural economy, while their menfolk sit about in coffee shops talking politics.

The women’s political role was crucial, so I was alarmed by the decline in their interest in party work and believed that this might have contributed negatively to our election results. Many women, especially younger women, were obviously reluctant to join Wanita UMNO. Apparently they saw no prospects for themselves so long as older members dominated the wing and showed no inclination to vacate their positions, especially at the headquarters level. Some were also unhappy that their political ambitions and energies were diverted into a parallel party vehicle, and not through the men’s mainstream divisional structure. For these capable and determined young women, new avenues for political participation, influence and achievements within UMNO had to be created.

One of the first hurdles was Tan Sri Rafidah Aziz, who had remained head of Wanita UMNO for years. She was challenged once and lost,
[3]
 but at the next party election she won her position back. After that, she kept out all potential challengers and only those subservient to her could gain any position in the movement. This has since changed: in the 2009 UMNO
elections, she was defeated by her deputy Dato’ Sri Shahrizat Abdul Jalil.
 

But during my term in office, I felt strongly that we needed to gain the support of younger Malay women. They were a new generation, a different breed, the product of an independent country and of the New Economic Policy. They were generally better educated than their mothers and Wanita UMNO seniors. Many held professional qualifications and were successful in the professional world: as lawyers, architects, accountants, doctors and engineers. Some had risen to head government departments and ministries, while others had become executives, even chief executives and financial officers in big companies, including foreign multinationals. A number were respected consultants and there were those among them who were well-known writers and journalists. Yet, while most of them could discuss current affairs, few displayed any interest in politics or in becoming involved in political life. I believed that their apparent apathy stemmed from a lack of opportunity, not of interest, confidence or capability.

By the 1990s we were also witnessing an unusual phenomenon. When I was at university, only one of the seven Malays who joined the College of Medicine in 1947 was female. But by the 1990s Malay female undergraduates at local universities had outnumbered the boys. Today they make up almost 70 per cent of the undergraduates in our local universities. This was a radical change that a political party like UMNO could not afford to ignore. It was clear that in future, women would play an increasingly important role in every sphere of professional and public life in Malaysia.

Malay women in Malaysia—whether middle-class career women or homemakers in the 
kampung
—have always been more liberated than Muslim women in other countries. I realised that if there was to be an injection of wider thinking and deeper insight into UMNO politics, women had to be encouraged to provide it. To be able to do so, they would have to be able to join the party and make their contributions far more readily and easily than before.

But the senior women in Wanita UMNO feared the challenge that better-qualified younger Malay women would pose. They did not openly oppose their joining Wanita, but they were hardly encouraging. Unless something was done soon, UMNO would suffer a double loss: the ageing and thinning out of the current Wanita membership together with an inevitable, ensuing decline in their contribution to the party; and the disinclination of an entire rising generation of potential members. Forfeiting their energies and contributions was something neither the party nor Malaysia could afford to risk.

The suggestion was made in the Supreme Council to create a new wing that would cater to young women wanting to join the party. I gave it my full support. Immediately, Rafidah was up in arms and questioned the need for such a body. Wanita, she insisted, was already open to all women, old and young. When someone pointed out that the women in Wanita, especially the leaders, were quite old, she exploded with anger and resentment.

The male members of the Supreme Council were more positive, but I knew our party’s men were no better than the women when it came to admitting highly-qualified applicants into branches. Branch chairmen often feared losing their positions and influence if qualified people were allowed to join either the UMNO Youth or as ordinary members in the branches. Not just existing divisional office-bearers but also many of their old-guard rival aspirants were reluctant to see capable new talent enter their divisions and local party branches. Many took the view that for party positions there was, in effect, a kind of queue or waiting list: that those who had waited their turn should get in first, and others should fall in behind them. Eager and capable, young members took a different view. But at least for young men there was the UMNO Youth; for young women, there was nothing. What was now proposed was hardly a radical innovation, simply the creation for Malay women of a counterpart or parallel section to the young men’s wing.

This fear among the veteran party members was not really new. When I returned as a qualified doctor eager to play an active leadership role in Kedah UMNO, one leader told me that people like him had fought for Independence so that people like me could get a better education and achieve high positions in the Government. Now that I had those qualifications, I should not waste my time in politics but rather concentrate my efforts in public service. I had a great future there, on the permanent service side of government, he said. Over the years the older members’ desire to hang on to party posts and eventually to become honourable Members of Parliament and the state assemblies grew ever stronger. For many of them, and especially those who did not have modern professional qualifications and prospects, election through UMNO to the state and federal legislative bodies represented a huge advance, not just in income and opportunity but in the social standing and public esteem that many Malays value so highly.

The increasing rewards open to those who hold party posts have made the contest for them even keener. Wanita UMNO’s strong opposition to the formation of the new wing, Puteri UMNO, was not surprising. The Wanita stalwarts knew that at some stage Puteri candidates would have to be considered for election to the party’s various councils and even to Parliament. For my part, I thought that qualified, young Malay women must be accommodated in UMNO. I was sure they would be able to contribute to the party’s strength and to build acceptance and support for the party by young women generally. Exactly how they would play their part, I was not sure. We could think more about that once the new Puteri wing was formed.

By that time, we had co-opted a young woman lawyer named Datuk Sri Azalina Othman Said as a member of the Supreme Council. She was not active in Wanita but was well-known for her support of UMNO. On her own, she had defended the party and the Government’s policies, especially its efforts to help Malay women. When the Supreme Council finally decided that Puteri UMNO should be formed, the lead role was given to her. Azalina proved very capable and soon every UMNO division in the country had a Puteri wing. Most of its leaders and many members were well-qualified professionals.
[4]
 

Puteri adopted a striking pink for their outfits. It contrasted with the bright red of Wanita UMNO and suggested the youthfulness of the Puteri members. Under Azalina’s leadership, Puteri became active in social work, and they even got me to read to orphans in kindergartens. They were soon making their presence felt everywhere but their political relevance was yet to be tested. During some by-elections they proved very diligent and campaigned hard. They did not just concentrate on women, they were active on many issues, and in all social circles. In fact, they were so effective that our opponents from PAS sought to discourage them with the most vulgar of dirty tactics.
[5]
 

Puteri has unquestionably made UMNO relevant to the younger generation of Malays, in particular Malay women. It ignited a new enthusiasm for politics in the rising Malay generation and made UMNO and its struggles known to those who had been the beneficiaries. Many who had gained a university education now realised how much they owed to UMNO and its policies. Beyond gratitude, they had become conscious that those same policies and benefits had to be extended to future generations. There was one clear way to do that: by becoming more involved in UMNO.

After the 1999 elections I again reconsidered my plans to retire. I decided I should first restore the strength of the party, re-establish the country’s political and social stability, restart reasonable economic growth, and ensure that Government finances were in good shape. I did not want my successor to inherit a legacy of problems created during my tenure of office.

By now I had largely healed the rift in the party that had occurred in the wake of Anwar’s dismissal. I had brought many, who had opposed me, back into UMNO. I had planned the succession process and decided upon my successor
.
 UMNO was once again stable. Now, with the formation of Puteri UMNO, the party had been further strengthened and I was confident that Puteri would contribute greatly towards winning the next General Election after I stepped down.