A Doctor in The House: A Memoir of Tun Dr Mahathir Mohamad (30 page)

It was a relatively quiet campaign in Kota Star Selatan. I was not very good at public speaking and still lacked the knack of rousing people, which to me felt artificial, too much like fishing for applause. Even now, when speaking in either English or Malay, I prefer using simple language. I do not consider myself erudite and don’t seek to project a grand image. Instead of rich oratory, I am keen to make sure that people understand what I am saying—there is no point in trying to show people how brilliant you are when you are not. But over time, my public speaking improved.

In Kota Star Selatan, I was contesting against PAS, which as usual had a religious teacher as a candidate. UMNO had won Independence for Malaya only recently and the memory and appreciation of it was still fresh in the minds of the people. The FELDA
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 settlers in the constituency were grateful to UMNO for the 10 acres of land they were each given to farm and earn a living. The Chinese, who made up about 15 per cent of the voters, were wary of PAS’s agenda. So too were the small Thai and Indian communities. Since they would not vote for PAS, support for me—as the Alliance candidate—was very strong.
 

With an 82 per cent voter turnout, I won comfortably with a majority of 4,210 votes. Though PAS lost, it managed to obtain 8,196 votes and was obviously a force to be reckoned with (this would be clearly demonstrated in the next election in 1969). I was at the counting centre when the results were announced. I could hardly believe that I was now a Member of Parliament, even though from the response I got during the campaign and from the number of people who had turned up at my 
ceramah
, or small indoor talks, I had been somewhat confident that I could win. It was not a landslide victory but I was still very happy. At last, I could contribute effectively to the well-being of my new constituents. Over the years, the people of Kota Star Selatan wanted good roads and they got them. They also got electricity, piped water and schools. Elected representatives must take their positions seriously because the electorate has learnt the power it wields with its votes.

In Kuala Lumpur for the first Parliamentary meeting, I became aware of my new status when, during a pre-parliamentary briefing, I found myself in the presence of luminaries like Prime Minister Tunku Abdul Rahman and other Cabinet Ministers. Most of them did not know me of course, as I was new and just an ordinary backbencher. From where I stood, the Cabinet Ministers seemed in a class of their own. They had a plaque with the word “Minister” fixed above their car number plates and the national flag and party flag flew proudly from their front fenders. It left a great impression on me, and I thought what an achievement it would be to become a Minister.

The 1964-1969 term of Parliament would turn out to be a most eventful one. It saw the expulsion of Singapore from Malaysia, the end of Indonesian Confrontation, the fall of Sukarno and the birth of ASEAN. It also saw increasing tension between Chinese and Malays, which culminated in the divisive and tense 1969 General Election that nearly destroyed the country. It was exciting to watch all this history unfold before me in the Dewan Rakyat.
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 Playing a small part in it was even more fulfilling, and I was able to voice my ideas and opinions in the most important legislative and policy-making body in the country. I wanted to be an effective Member of Parliament for my constituents, to be a representative of whom they could be proud. I wanted to contribute in some way to the well-being of the country.
 

My medical qualifications did not go unnoticed. I was seated with two other senior doctors, Dr Megat Khas and Dr Awang Hassan (who later became the Governor of Penang) in the second bloc next to where the members of Government sat. Today that bloc is fully occupied by the members of the Cabinet, which is much larger now than it was then. Ordinary members now sit at quite a distance from the Ministers. Opposite me sat the Honourable Mr Lee Kuan Yew and three Singapore Members of Parliament. They were not quite in the Opposition area but they were lodged next to them. I do not think Lee approved of this seating arrangement.

Lee and I had a civil relationship, but it was never a friendship. In the period until Singapore left Malaysia in 1965, I had numerous brushes with him in the Dewan Rakyat. His demeanour usually seemed condescending and he appeared to want to deliver lectures to the House on what it and the Government should do. He would stand up with a clipboard in front of him, take off his watch, deliberately place it before him, and then proceed to talk down to the House. I listened carefully at first, but I got tired of his style of delivery. He adopted the didactic tone of a know-all schoolmaster, telling us all what we should do and pointing out all the “mistakes” we were making—it did not make for good listening. Sometimes, to keep the proceedings on track, and sometimes, just to be a nuisance, I interrupted by asking questions and seeking clarifications. Lee could barely hide his annoyance at my constant interruptions, but I noticed that he cut back on his speeches. A number of other Members of Parliament thought he was arrogant and disliked him. Soon, other Alliance members got into the act and began to harass him, until he could no longer preach to the Dewan Rakyat.

Another very vocal Member of Parliament was D.R. Seenivasagam of the People’s Progressive Party (PPP). Together with his brother, S.P. Seenivasagam, they made it very clear that they did not think much of the Malays. They were from Perak and represented the Ipoh and Menglembu constituencies, which they had won because of strong Chinese support. They had lived among the Chinese and reputedly could speak both Cantonese and Mandarin. Strangely, when the Barisan Nasional was formed, S.P. Seenivasagam, who had taken over leadership of the PPP after his brother passed away, joined the coalition and became a Minister in both Tun Razak’s and Tun Hussein’s Cabinets.

PAS attacked the Alliance with a different strategy altogether. Abdul Samad Gul Mianji, PAS member for Pasir Mas Hulu, made it very clear that he did not consider UMNO and its members to be proper Muslims. Other PAS members believed the same thing but they were less open about it. Abdul Samad had a very coarse, vicious manner of speech. He was eventually murdered in 1967 by unknown assailants in Kota Baru, near the PAS party offices. Other Honourable Members I often clashed with included the Member for Batu, Tan Sri Dr Tan Chee Khoon. He was from the Socialist Front but he mainly championed the rights of the non-Malays. It was obvious that he regarded the Alliance Government as a primarily Malay Government and he refused to accept that MCA and MIC represented the Chinese and Indians.

In 1965 I was given my first mission abroad. Tun Razak wanted Malaysia to be respected the world over by all nations, weak and strong, and also by non-governmental bodies. For that reason, he wanted Malaysia to become a member of the Afro-Asia Peoples Solidarity Organisation, or AAPSO, a non-governmental body that was largely anti-American, pro-communist and highly influential. Almost all the newly independent countries and those belonging to the Non-Aligned Movement were represented in AAPSO. During the Indonesian Confrontation, the republic had launched a diplomatic offensive to isolate Malaysia and show the rest of the world—especially the Afro-Asian countries—that it was a neo-colonial creation. At the organisation’s conference in Algiers in 1964, Malaysia was strongly condemned although it was not a member and was not present. Wiser from this experience, Tun Razak wanted to change perceptions of Malaysia at the AAPSO conference in Ghana the following year. I was hastily drafted and made Chairman of the Presidium of the Malaysian chapter of AAPSO and was asked to go to Ghana to seek membership in the organisation. It was an honour and I was determined to show results.

The other members of the delegation were James Puthucheary (a lawyer who had been made persona non grata in Singapore and had been detained under Singapore’s Internal Security Act); Tan Sri Lee San Choon, an MCA Member of Parliament; Tun Musa Hitam, political secretary to the Minister of Transport Tun Sardon Jubir; Wong Ling Ken of the PAP; well-known Malay journalist Tan Sri A. Samad Ismail, and C.V. Devan Nair, a former trade unionist and PAP Member of Parliament for Bangsar in Kuala Lumpur and a future President of Singapore. Even our flight to Ghana proved to be memorable, though not always for the right reasons. For one thing, I was briefly quarantined in Cairo for not having proper health papers. Also, the Ghana Airways aircraft was of Soviet make and vibrated a great deal. The pilots were Ghanaians but they had Soviet pilots sitting behind them who, it seemed, were instructing the Ghanaians on the job. It was not very reassuring, to say the least, but we managed to arrive safely in Ghana’s capital city of Accra. After that experience we opted on our return journey to use Alitalia, which flew via Rome.

Ghana had gained independence in the same year as Malaysia. Its leader was the colourful and highly regarded Kwame Nkrumah, who believed strongly in non-alignment. When I arrived in Accra, I found that everything had been named after him. He seemed very popular but the shine wore off somewhat when I saw the tight security ring around him. My idea of a popular leader was one who mingled freely with the people, unafraid of being harmed by them. I know better now. In the midst of numerous supporters lurk assassins, as many democratic leaders have found out. Still, I never liked even the minimal security that the police insisted I needed to have as Prime Minister.

The conference was held in Winneba, a town almost 80km from Accra, where the ruling party had an ideological training centre. We had already spent some time in Accra meeting as many delegates as possible to lobby for their support for Malaysia to get membership. The Ghanaians, Egyptians and the Soviets were friendly but they asked us to get sponsors from among the African delegations. Many of them were still struggling for independence and most were supported and trained by the communist bloc. They were not inclined to support the supposedly pro-Western “neo-colonial” creation that was Malaysia and we found the going very tough.

In his opening speech, President Nkrumah called upon Malaysia and Indonesia to start roundtable talks. He said that the withdrawal of the imperialists from Southeast Asia was a prerequisite to successful peace negotiations. Neither Indonesia nor Malaysia, according to him, could divert resources sorely needed for development “into a conflict so easily avoidable”. I welcomed this call for peace talks but insisted that the struggle to eliminate foreign bases in Malaysia could not begin as long as there were military threats from Indonesia. In a statement, the Malaysian delegation made clear that in order to reduce the military presence of the imperialists, “it is paramount that the danger of military invasion of Malaysia be removed”. The statement also asked the delegates to help bring the weight of Afro-Asian opinion and moral influence to bear on the Malaysia-Indonesia dispute. It appealed for Malaysia’s membership of the organisation. The Indonesians protested, claiming the presence of the Malaysian delegation was “completely illegal and intolerable”. Yet one of the most telling arguments raised against our admission was made by the Viet Cong delegation, which condemned Malaysia’s support for the American bombing of North Vietnam. Communist China and Indonesia threatened to leave the organisation if Malaysia was admitted. Faced with this condemnation and the threat by China and Indonesia, there was no hope of Malaysia being admitted. I had failed in my first mission abroad.

Upon my return, during a Parliamentary sitting, Dr Tan Chee Khoon questioned my involvement with AAPSO. He said it was inconsistent with the stand of the Alliance Government as the organisation was leftist and my designation as Chairman of the Presidium was typical of communist organisations. I explained that the Alliance Government respected differing opinions among its supporters, but I do not think I sounded very convincing. The reaction of the Tunku later proved how wrong I was about the Alliance’s stance. Tun Razak, on the other hand, gave the delegation his vote of approval. Speaking during the same Parliamentary sitting, he said that Malaysia, while not a member of the conference, had sent representatives there to rebut Indonesian accusations. Three days later the Tunku, who had been in Tokyo at the time, returned and said publicly that he would never have agreed to the mission. He regretted that a Malaysian delegation had gone to Accra to attend the conference without his knowledge. He described the organisation as “a communist set-up established in Cairo for their own ends. It is being financed by Russia and communist China,” he said, adding that, “they had never admitted us into the conference and I had no hope of it at all”.

Yet the Tunku’s disapproval of AAPSO and my visit to Ghana did not result in the disbanding of the local chapters. On 21 July 1965, I issued a statement in the name of AAPSO. Seizing on the apparent American support for Indonesia, my statement demanded that the Government, “carry out the re-examination of our foreign policy immediately”. In essence, the statement demanded that the policy towards America and other Western powers be re-evaluated and made more realistic, consistent with our national pride and aspirations as an independent Afro-Asian nation. The Americans, the statement added, were unreliable friends who were motivated by their selfish economic interests. The progressive countries were the USSR, Yugoslavia, Poland and the Afro-Asian countries, and I pleaded for lasting friendship with the USSR and the People’s Republic of China.

My statement as Chairman of AAPSO was clearly not calculated to endear me to the Tunku. Even then, my stand was not the same as his but was more in tune with that of Tun Razak’s. The AAPSO incident may seem minor but it served to highlight the differences in the perceptions and views of the Tunku and his deputy, Tun Razak. Rereading the reports today, I realise that I had often been unable to agree with the Tunku. On another occasion during my first term as Member of Parliament, I urged the Government to do away with Imperial Preference. This was a relic from the days of the British Empire when goods imported from Britain and other countries of the Empire attracted preferential duties. I urged the Government to stop this bias in favour of an Empire which—even then—was an anachronism. Here again I seemed at odds with the Tunku’s thinking. Other Members of Parliament and most UMNO members did not seem to know about Imperial Preference, and did not appear to be interested. Unsurprisingly, I received little support on the matter. The Tunku did not see things in the same way, and neither did many of his UMNO loyalists.