A Doctor in The House: A Memoir of Tun Dr Mahathir Mohamad (118 page)

All I can say is that I regret my failure to change the Malays, to mould the new Malay, to equip the Malay people with the knowledge and skills necessary for them to make a success of their lives and to take their rightful place in their country. If I seem to be concerned only with the Malays, it is because the other races, even the Indians, seem to be able to take care of themselves. I have met Indian students in the furthest corners of the world struggling to study medicine. Malays have been given reserved places in the universities at home but they cannot be bothered to qualify for these places. What more do they expect to be done for them?

ENDNOTES

[
1
] The Federation Military College is now known as the Royal Military College and is the foremost boarding school in Malaysia.
 

[
2
] The Sultan Idris Training College was gradually upgraded through the years and became a university on 1 May 1997. It is now known as Universiti Pendidikan Sultan Idris.
 

[
3
] The MARA junior science colleges were established to train secondary and pre-university Bumiputera students in science and technology in preparation for university.
 

[
4
] The Razak Report became the basis for the development of the National Education Policy.
 

[
5
] Pusat Islam administers all Islamic-related activities in the country.
 

For 21 years I had done my job as best as I could, but I was becoming increasingly mindful of what my mother had always said when I was a young boy: never overstay your welcome. I chose to see my resignation as the end of one part of my life and the start of another, one that would be different and perhaps challenging as well. I could not imagine myself doing nothing. Apart from writing my memoirs, I wanted this to be a time for travelling and meeting people. I had hoped to contribute something different or extra during this quieter period of my life.

When I was finally sure that the time was right I kept it to myself. I did not tell anyone, not even Hasmah. Instead, I prepared letters to the King, the Chief Secretary to the Government and the UMNO Secretary-General in readiness for my public announcement. I wrote the letters by hand as I did not want anyone to see them. I had made up my mind to announce my resignation at the end of the 56th UMNO Annual General Assembly in 2002, when I was to give the closing speech. I chose that time and place because then the announcement would be a public statement that I would not be able to retract. I thought that if I told a few people, they would try to dissuade me. If I then reversed my position, my critics would say I had reneged. The foreign Press would also have a good laugh if they heard me say I would resign and then did not.

I planned my exit for months. Despite not telling anyone, a few friends told me not to resign. They had doubts about my successor. But I was determined to keep my promise to myself. It was nevertheless a strain—the feeling was indescribable. After 21 years as Prime Minister, the step was a huge one for me as at that time, I felt I was still reasonably popular. But while keeping my secret was a terrible burden, I felt I should not lessen it by burdening others . Hasmah had no inkling of my decision, but I knew I could count on her understanding and support at all times. The only thing I did was to ask my deputy Tun Abdullah Ahmad Badawi—almost a year before my announcement—whether he was ready to take over. He said he was. But still I did not indicate the actual time I would resign.

I announced my decision to step down as UMNO President and Prime Minister at 5.50pm on 22 June 2002. It was towards the end of my speech to close the assembly. I anticipated some reaction but not the kind I received. All at once, people rushed up in a throng to the rostrum and asked me to withdraw my announcement. The then Wanita UMNO chief Tan Sri Rafidah Aziz and UMNO Youth chief Datuk Seri Hishammuddin Hussein were overcome with emotion. Rafidah, who later said she broke the heel of her shoe as she rushed up to me, kept asking me, “Why? Why? Why?” Datuk Paduka Ibrahim Ali, the perennial problem child of UMNO politics, also came up to the stage.

Hasmah, who was sitting in the gallery above, later told me how she experienced the surprising moment. When she heard my announcement she was just as stunned as everybody else. A camera crew from New Zealand zoomed in on her and caught her with her mouth agape. She sat there for a few minutes, trying to take it all in; then people around her nudged her to go down and get me to change my mind. Only then did she get up from her seat, although she remained fully aware of the fact that it was still an UMNO assembly and she could not interfere. She had known I would resign one day, but she had not known it would be at that time or in that way.

Before making the announcement I had feared that I might break down, but what happened was even worse. Despite having rehearsed my speech, when the moment came I found I could not say the few sentences coherently. I shed tears shamelessly. I was not able to handle this great turning point in my life as I had intended.

As UMNO leaders crowded around me on the rostrum, asking me to reconsider, I remember shaking my head and saying that I had made up my mind. Tun Abdullah went to the other rostrum on the stage and immediately asked UMNO Permanent Chairman Tun Sulaiman Ninam Shah to get the assembly to reject my decision.

Tun Sulaiman rose and tried to say something, to appeal for calm, but there was pandemonium in the hall. Delegates were chanting and singing party songs and shouting “No! No!” and “Don’t resign!” A number of Supreme Council members then led me off the stage. We went to the presidential room next to the assembly hall where I was surrounded by more Supreme Council members and UMNO leaders, who kept pressing me to stay. All the Vice-Presidents were there and so were other party veterans including Tan Sri Aishah Ghani
[1]
 and my sister-in-law Tan Sri Saleha Ali.
[2]
 Even Tun Ghazali Shafie and Tengku Razaleigh Hamzah came in. It must have been a shock to everyone. They must all have wanted to know what was going on—or else they feared being left out in some way.
 

Soon after, Tun Abdullah, who was UMNO Deputy President, proposed that the Assembly reject my resignation. They agreed unanimously. Because I was in the room, I was not aware of what was happening outside. By now there were reporters everywhere and more and more people crowded into the room to see me. To spare me from the onslaught, I was smuggled out through a back door and driven back to the official residence in Putrajaya. All this overwhelming adulation and support may now appear excessively dramatic and probably insincere, but at the time I was touched by people’s reactions and words.

The Opposition labelled my announcement a 
sandiwara
—a play staged for sympathy votes ahead of a snap General Election. Others said it was all a cynical act to consolidate a mandate within the party for me to continue. None of this is true. Twenty-one years is a long time to be the Prime Minister of a country, and those who have not carried that burden cannot imagine what it feels like. I felt that I had overstayed and, anyway, had I not stepped down, my designated successor would think I would never do so. Now some people tell me my resignation was a mistake, but imagine what would have been said if I had not gone: “When is this old man going to stop?”; “Does he want to be Prime Minister forever?”; “Enough is enough.”

That night, my children gathered at the residence to be with us. They were concerned about my health, specifically about a possible heart attack after the strain of the day. They and Hasmah all supported my decision to retire. Several UMNO leaders, including Tun Abdullah, came to convey the feelings of the party representatives at the Annual General Assembly and I told them that I would give their request serious consideration. I decided that a transition period to allow for a smooth transfer of power would be best, so the following day, I confirmed that I would stay on for another year until after the NAM and OIC meetings in Kuala Lumpur in October of 2003.

Throughout my tenure, I tried hard to establish certain standards. Firstly, I did not encourage the adulation and excessive glorification that is often given to leaders. I was determined that there would be no personality cult. Even when I held the education portfolio, I stopped the practice of naming schools after the Minister. When I became Prime Minister I also refused to allow the naming of buildings and facilities after myself or any living person other than the Malay Rulers. I gave instructions that my official picture should not be displayed in government buildings, although this was widely ignored. To date, nothing has been named after me, except an orchid. I even rejected the idea of a memorial library.

I was and am still passionately against setting up political dynasties. While I was Prime Minister, my children were not given any role in the Government or in UMNO, and even if they had harboured interest in any political post, they would not have received my support. They may have been upset but I had to turn down several proposals to have them stand as candidates in elections. My position was this: if they were keen on politics, they would have to start at the grassroots level and work their own way up. I did not allow Mukhriz to take over my parliamentary constituency when the party proposed him upon my retirement. My dislike for nepotism extends to even distant members of my family. Although my brother-in-law was appointed 
Menteri Besar
 of Selangor by Tun Hussein Onn, I did not hesitate to remove him when accusations were made that he was corrupt.

Throughout my premiership, I worked hard to set a good example to people generally and to all UMNO leaders. I wanted to show that I could still get things done without being corrupt and that others should be able to do the same. Most people assume that those with the opportunity to be corrupt will be corrupt . Theirs is a very poor view of human nature. While they may be right about themselves, this does not make them right about others. Yet without any supporting evidence, and based solely on dubious inferences, such people have always assumed that I was corrupt while in office. It was not easy to convince them that I was not.

During my time as Prime Minister, I had adopted the slogan “leadership by example” and I tried to live by that slogan in every way. My stepping down voluntarily was part of that creed. Leaders should not cling to their position but should learn to recognise the signs of what their followers feel. If they felt it was time that their leaders should go, they should go. Although I now know that those who benefited from my decision will not always be grateful or even appreciative, I never regretted resigning voluntarily. I still think that leaders, no matter how popular they may be, should listen to their conscience and not wait until they are pushed out.

The first of several events which demanded my attention during the one year before retirement was the Non-Aligned Movement (NAM), which held its 13th summit on 24 February 2003. The Americans had not invaded Iraq yet, but I made a point of condemning their support of Israel. At that time Muslims were being condemned as terrorists and Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) was being called a terrorist leader by some born-again Christian preachers. This was clearly an attempt to make a reality of Samuel Huntington’s clash of civilisations theory. I was incensed by the double standards shown by Americans and Europeans. When the Israelis committed terrifying acts such as the massacre at the Sabra and Shatila camps, they were not called terrorists. These blatant double standards infuriated Muslims. I told the NAM meeting that I condemned war as it “is about slaughtering people ... war must be outlawed”.

A month later, on 20 March, Iraq was invaded. I had been against it and had written to Bush and Blair not to undertake this venture as it would worsen the situation. I am no clairvoyant. But seeing the desperation of the Palestinians and their suicide bombers, it was not difficult to foresee the acts of terror that would follow the attack on Iraq.

Apart from NAM and the OIC, I also had to attend the ASEAN Summit Meeting in Bali, the APEC Meeting in Bangkok and the ASEAN Federation of Engineering Organisations (AFEO) Meeting in Jogjakarta. My last two official visits were to Timor Leste and Papua New Guinea. At home I had to preside over the 46th UMNO General Meeting, and present the 2004 Budget and the mid-term review of the Eighth Malaysia Plan.
[3]
 I was pretty busy.
 

I had heard of lame duck presidents whose decisions and directives were not taken seriously in expectation of change when the new President took over. But I did not expect to be a lame duck Prime Minister. I fully expected my successor to at least implement the decisions that the Cabinet had agreed to. In the meantime, I carried on governing as there were infrastructure projects essential for the growth of the country that needed to be carried out. Among them were the transfer of water from Pahang to Selangor, the double-tracking and electrification of the railway from Johor Baru to Padang Besar, the bridge to replace the Causeway, and the high-tech incinerator for solid waste in Broga, Selangor.

In June 2003, UMNO was again scheduled to hold its assembly, the last such meeting I would preside over. I spent a lot of time writing my opening speech as I did not want it to be too emotional. It had to be about the nation, the people and the party—not about my personal farewell. I wanted to speak about what was likely to happen and the need for the party and its members to prepare for the future. Malaysia, I said, had changed greatly since achieving Independence 46 years earlier. The population had increased by 500 per cent from five million to 25 million. That the Barisan Nasional was still in power and still elected by the people to rule the country was remarkable. Most parties which fought for Independence had disappeared. The stability and the progress of the country had been made possible through the wisdom of the first Prime Minister, Tunku Abdul Rahman, who was responsible for setting up the coalition of parties which prevented Malaysian politics from becoming an unending conflict between different races. Despite their many failures, the Malays had made tremendous progress, displaying their ability to take over the administration of the country from the British and also rising to high positions in big multinational corporations.