A Doctor in The House: A Memoir of Tun Dr Mahathir Mohamad (25 page)

These developments posed the question: what would happen to the nine ruling houses if Malaya were to become independent? Could there ever be a commoner head of state? It may seem improbable now, but such a course of development was not unthinkable then. Earlier, UMNO had proposed a commoner Deputy High Commissioner, which was rejected by the Rulers. Much royal awkwardness was felicitously avoided when the 1955 elections installed a prominent member of the Kedah royal family as Chief Minister of Malaya. Still, the Rulers knew that it might just as easily have been a non-royal.

As Chief Minister, Tunku Abdul Rahman did not precede the Rulers in terms of protocol, but a commoner head of state was a different matter. Until these issues of protocol and status of the Rulers were settled to their satisfaction, they would not support independence. And if they did not, the resulting confrontation between the 
rakyat
 and the Rulers might delay independence at best and even cause prolonged political upheaval.

Meanwhile, the insurgency continued and the fight against the guerrillas might have lost momentum, and even focus, if indeed a confrontation erupted between the 
rakyat
 and the Rulers. Certainly, there were loyal feudalists among the 
rakyat
 who would throw their weight behind the Rulers at any price, yet the ardent champions of independence would not back down. The ensuing fight would drain important resources and undermine political resolve in the anti-guerrilla war. The fact that the Tunku was of royal blood reassured the Rulers that republicanism would not be espoused by the newly-elected government. Had it been headed by Dato’ Onn or another commoner, the path to independence may not have been quite as smooth.

When the Tunku proposed that an Alliance delegation should go to the United Kingdom to demand independence, the Rulers also decided to send their own separate delegation along. Agreement regarding independence had yet to be reached. The two delegations went by sea so that they could meet and iron out their differences before they arrived. The Rulers named four 
Menteri Besar,
 headed by Datuk Panglima Bukit Gantang of Perak, as their representatives, while the Tunku headed the Alliance delegation.

Aligning their views was crucial. If the two groups presented differing views, the British would have pounced upon any disagreement as a good excuse to delay independence. Fortunately, during the sea voyage the two delegations managed to reach a common stand, which respectfully took account of the positions of both parties. In essence, while sailing to London, the Rulers’ representatives and the Tunku as head of the elected Government resolved the problem of the head of state and the positions of the Rulers in the independent Federation of Malaya.

There would be a “Paramount Ruler”—known today in our Constitution as the Yang di-Pertuan Agong, or simply, the Agong—elected by the Rulers from among themselves for a term of five years to serve as a Constitutional Monarch without executive authority. He would be the living symbol, in Malay cultural terms and form, of our state and national sovereignty.

The Government, the two sides also agreed, would be based roughly on the Westminster model. There would be an elected Parliament and a Chief Executive or Prime Minister named by the Paramount Ruler from among the elected members, based upon the Paramount Ruler’s judgment about who had the support of the majority of the elected members of the national legislature. The Prime Minister would be assisted by a Cabinet of Ministers. Meanwhile, each state would have as its chief executive a Chief Minister or 
Menteri Besar
. He was to be chosen by the state’s Ruler from among the members of the elected state councils, again based on which member held the majority’s confidence. The Chief Minister would be assisted by a State Executive Council, nominated by the Chief Minister from among the elected members.

The independent Federation of Malaya would therefore be a constitutional monarchy with a parliamentary democracy. The elected government’s term of office would be a maximum of five years, though a government may at any time request the Paramount Ruler to dissolve Parliament and hold a General Election for a new Parliament and government.

Armed with these ideas, the two parties were prepared to meet the British. The Federation of Malaya Constitutional Conference was held in London between January and February 1956. The British remained reluctant but finally agreed that Malaya would be granted independence in 1957, “if possible”. Otherwise, independence would be given in 1959. The later date was perhaps intended by the British to hold something back and give themselves one more card to play, should further difficulties and disagreements erupt between any of the key players in the new Malayan politics. Instead, it acted as an incentive for everyone to resolve their differences so that there would be no excuse for the British to delay granting independence to Malaya.

The Tunku returned to Malaya in a glow of triumph. There was a huge gathering in Malacca where the Tunku was accompanied by the Rulers’ representative, the Datuk Panglima Bukit Gantang. There, the Tunku announced the results of the Independence negotiation. He told the crowd the British said that Independence would be granted in 1957, “if possible”, but the 
rakyat
 rejected the caveat outright and demanded that Independence be given that year.

On 31 August 1957, at the stroke of midnight, the once-mighty Union Jack was lowered from a special flagpole erected in front of the Federal Secretariat building in Kuala Lumpur. So began the third and final phase of the Federation of Malaya, the culminating phase of 
Merdeka
 or full national independence.

On that day I was in Alor Star—travel was not easy at that time so I had decided not to go to Kuala Lumpur for the celebrations. Hasmah had also given birth to our first child Marina just a few months before. But even in Alor Star, buildings had been repainted to mark the occasion and the whole town was decorated with lights.

To be honest, none of us could fully understand what would come next, now that we were an independent nation. We expected a change of guard and the opportunity for self-government (even so, the Tunku had already been Chief Minister of Malaya for two years by then) but beyond that, we could not see what else would be different. The idea that it was now time to build the country did not occur to most people; in fact, there were many among us who doubted that we could make a success of Independence. I myself was unsure if we could tackle the complexities of government. How wrong we all turned out to be.

ENDNOTES

[
1
] The AMCJA was a union of mainly Chinese and Indian non-governmental organisations that pursued independence for Malaya and citizenship for the Chinese and Indians.
 

[
2
] The British Colonial Authorities in India established the Straits Settlements (made up of Penang, Malacca and Singapore) as a single administrative unit in 1826. The descendents of Chinese traders who married local Malay women and settled in the settlements were known as Baba (men) and Nyonya (women), or Straits Chinese.
 

[
3
] The Malaysian Indian Congress was established in 1946 and was one of the founding member parties in the Alliance.
 

[
4
] David Marshall, a renowned criminal lawyer, was the leader of the Singapore Labour Front and became the first Chief Minister of Singapore in 1955.
 

After graduating in 1954 I returned to Alor Star for a short while before I was posted to the Penang General Hospital to do my housemanship
[1]
 in medicine and surgery.
 

I was paid $400 per month for my post-qualification statutory housemanship training. The allowance indicated that I was not just being trained but was also serving the Colonial Government. I was therefore subject to restrictions imposed on all government servants, which included not being involved in either politics or business. Even though I was keen on UMNO, I accepted these terms without fuss because I knew the training would be invaluable. There is always a wide gap between theory and practice, and in medicine, it was sure to be very wide indeed.

Young doctors often tell stories of how gruelling housemanship is, and I can confirm how true these stories are. My work schedule included a 24-hour stretch of duty every other day for two weeks of every month. This was just for medicine—for surgery, I was on duty every other week. Night duty was especially onerous as patients came in at all hours. Housemen frequently got no sleep at all.

I doubt that patients got the best care under a doctor who had had no sleep the night before, but it was very good training for me. When the time came to set up a practice of my own, there was no telling the kind of hours I would have to work, nor the awkward times at which I would have to make house calls. My mother had been right: to be a good and dedicated doctor, you had to give up the luxury of sleep.

There were other costs and sacrifices. The houseman’s allowance that year was increased by one dollar to $401. This lavish “raise” meant that we were exempt from having to contribute to the Employees Provident Fund (EPF)
[2]
 and therefore our pay was not cut for this purpose. More to the point, the Government did not have to contribute its six per cent share on behalf of
 
its employees to the EPF. We were now not pensionable for the houseman’s year and were also not entitled to payment by the EPF upon retirement. That one-dollar increase was no gain for us, despite the extra dollar in our hands. The Colonial Government was very mindful of its money.

In those days, only Europeans had the honour of being specialists and we were in awe of them. One of the surgeons, who I remember only as Mr Campbell,
[3]
 was famous for his ferocious temper. If the wrong instrument was handed to him during surgery, his response was to yell and throw the instrument onto the floor. Everyone was terrified of his fury and I would avoid assisting him when he operated. I did my best to stay out of his sight, though it was not always possible.
 

Later in Alor Star I worked under a Mr Frazer, who was mild and consistent where Campbell was wildly temperamental. Given the wrong instrument, Frazer would mumble his disapproval but would still try to use the instrument. I learnt far more from him than from Campbell. It had been drummed into us that surgeons (much like artists) were entitled to temper tantrums. One of the best surgeons in the UK was a Mr Hunter, who was also notorious for his temper. He used to say that since he had a heart condition, he would very likely be killed by the people who angered him. Apparently, he did die of a heart attack during one of his fits of temper.

I learnt one thing from all these tantrums, and that was 
not
 to lose my temper. It was difficult at first. Most people tend to react strongly to anything that they dislike, but I find that this annoys others and doesn’t achieve anything. Certainly in Campbell’s case, his violent temper didn’t help him succeed in teaching us because we would run away from him. I normally went to the other operating theatre as I couldn’t be seen to be doing nothing. So it was a tricky business.

I have since learned to walk away from anger—at least, I try to. Losing my parliamentary seat in 1969, for example, was painful, but what I felt was more sadness than anger. Rather than lose my temper, I try to reason things out. But it is hard to hold one’s temper when others won’t listen to reason.

I have learnt to be more deliberate. Calm, not anger, ensures effective action. Dramatic gestures don’t work and are unnecessary. By and large, I think I have succeeded not to be like those ill-tempered men. Over many years, as a doctor and then a politician, I have interacted with an unusually large number of people every day and I was always able to get on with my staff, colleagues and friends—and even my enemies—without getting overly angry.

In the end, my main concern during those sleep-deprived years as a houseman was my inability to go to Singapore to visit Hasmah, who was still completing her degree. For one whole year I had to be satisfied with words on paper. Though these letters were precious and remain so to this day, they were no substitute for actually seeing her. I only saw Hasmah when I went for my convocation with two of my sisters in 1954.

Fortunately, I was deeply immersed in my work. I was keen on the practice of medicine, especially surgery. I hardly ever called the surgery registrar when I was on duty. I did most minor surgeries myself and I owe much to the hospital assistants who showed me how to deal with the cases and carry out those surgical techniques with finesse. I believe I am quite dextrous and this added to my enthusiasm. Of all the medical work, surgery gave me the greatest satisfaction. Unlike treatments using just medication, with surgery the results can be seen almost immediately. That suited my temperament because I like to see results. When I was only a young Medical Officer, I performed complex procedures such as amputations, appendectomies and intestinal resections.

In Langkawi,
[4]
 I once had to operate on a strangulated hernia. The patient was the owner of the Hai Huat fishing company and he was brought in early one morning from Pulau Tuba, one of the Langkawi islands. There was no operating theatre in Langkawi Hospital then, only the examination table in the outpatient’s room. I could have sent him to Alor Star by fishing boat, where he could go to the General Hospital, but the journey would have taken more than 10 hours and he was already in great distress. So I decided to operate in the outpatient treatment room on the examination table. I had no silk sutures and had to use catgut.
 

I thought it was quite a simple thing to do, even though I didn’t have all the special equipment and materials. I was quite confident and the family obviously trusted me. I just told them that the operation had to be done. The patient survived and lived for many years after. His wife still sends salted fish to me whenever I go to Langkawi.