A Doctor in The House: A Memoir of Tun Dr Mahathir Mohamad (40 page)

Nor did we seem adept at reading the job market and going where the work—and therefore money—was. Young 
kampung
 Malays did not want to follow in their fathers’ footsteps to plant and harvest rice. Their education made them disdainful of agriculture without preparing them for other types of work. In the 1970s there was a shortage of labour in the rural areas, and at the same time there was a high level of unemployment. The young left the villages for the glamour of the city and few stayed behind to work the padi fields. The growing use of machinery in industries further reduced job opportunities. But at least the use of small Japanese-made hand-tillers and harvesters helped us overcome the labour shortage in the rice fields. I often joked, “Buffaloes are better. They reproduce themselves. Hand-tillers get old and useless and they don’t reproduce themselves.” Nor can you eat them as curry at village weddings!

Another talk I gave at the time was at the Institute of Southeast Asian Studies (ISEAS), a Singapore think-tank, on “Trends in Malaysia”. They were very eager there to keep abreast of developments and new thinking in Malaysia and wanted me to talk about domestic political trends. Instead, I gave my opinion concerning defence issues. I chose to condemn the Five Power Defence Agreement (FPDA) which involved Singapore, Britain, Australia, New Zealand and Malaysia, and said it was worth less than a scrap of paper.
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 Some Australian leaders had said outright that they would not automatically come to the defence of Malaysia, so I could not see the point of such a pact.
 

It seemed to be a part of the United States policy in those days to contain China. All the pact did, I had said earlier at an UMNO Youth forum, was to identify China and the Soviet Union as our enemy, now and in the future. Those two countries would consequently look upon us with hostility. The US would gain from having another supporter in us. But what would we gain?

Countries belonging to the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) were initially solidly behind the idea of ZOPFAN, a Zone of Peace, Freedom and Neutrality,
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 which Malaysia promoted. But this needed the support of the United States, the Soviet Union and China at a time when the Cold War was still on. The US, which had its 7th Fleet in the Pacific, was the only country willing to support ZOPFAN. Both Russia and China simply ignored ASEAN’s request to guarantee neutrality and peace in the area.
 

But no matter what I spoke about in those days when I was still an outsider, the Government never responded. As a political outcast and has-been, I suppose they thought I didn’t deserve a reply, but I continued giving these talks and kept a keen watch on national political developments.

At this point, Tun Razak had begun to woo the Opposition parties to join the Alliance coalition. It was a deft move politically—what he really wanted to do was reduce politicking and focus on the NEP objectives. Tun Dr Lim Chong Eu, the Gerakan Chief Minister of Penang, had known Tun Razak during their days as students in England. They were good friends and had participated in the Malaysian Students Association there together. Tun Dr Lim had left the MCA because of his disagreement with the leader Tun Tan Siew Sin. It was essentially a struggle for leadership of the party, and Tun Tan had been backed by his father, Tun Tan Cheng Lock. Tun Dr Lim had no quarrel with UMNO.

At a meeting aboard a Malaysian warship off Penang, he and Tun Razak discussed Gerakan’s possible entry into the Alliance. Tun Razak was able to persuade him to join, provided that the Chief Ministership of Penang remained with Gerakan and the party was given a seat in the Cabinet.

The MCA might well have objected to Gerakan joining the Alliance as it was really a Chinese party, not a multiracial one as it claimed to be. Besides, most of its members were ex-MCA, having left the party because of their disagreements with Tun Tan Siew Sin. Gerakan could also undermine the MCA by attracting its disaffected members and by eroding Chinese support for MCA Alliance candidates. Yet the MCA could also do the same to Gerakan. A conflict between the two parties could seriously hurt the coalition, especially in Penang.

But the MCA did not make too strong a protest. It was still, after the events of 1969, in a weak political position and in no condition to resist strongly. Both Tun Razak and Tun Tan must have realised this, so it was not hard for Tun Razak to persuade Tun Tan and the MCA to agree to Gerakan’s entry—even though the Chief Ministership of Penang had, until 1969, been the preserve of the MCA.

Many Malays were disturbed by this acceptance of an Opposition party—and a Chinese one at that—into the Alliance. During a question-and-answer session at the Government Staff Training Centre in Petaling Jaya in February 1972, I was asked why the Alliance had formed a coalition with the Gerakan in Penang.

I was certainly not privy to the discussions and agreements between Tun Razak and Tun Dr Lim. Nevertheless, I defended the move. “It is not what party or which leader that is important,” I said. “For the Alliance the most important thing is to serve the people. Without the Alliance in the Gerakan-led Government of Penang, the Penang people would not benefit from the Second Malaysia Five-Year Plan.
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 The Alliance Government’s utmost and ultimate concern is the welfare of the people and not a certain party or party leaders.”
 

So I found myself defending the Alliance even before I had rejoined it. I approved entirely of what Tun Razak was doing, as such a move was necessary to enable the Government to concentrate on economic development. I went on to explain that in Malaysia, no party which appealed only to communal sentiments could ever expect to form a central government. Neither could any party which forgets the racial origin of its members hope to succeed.

People thought, and many still think in terms of their own race, specifically its position and the opportunities it gets. The Malays felt their race was not getting a fair share of the nation’s wealth. Whoever echoed that sentiment was bound to get support from the Malay community. The Chinese felt that they were being denied opportunities to make more wealth, to study in their own language, and so on. It was only natural as we are constructed or socialised to see race as the primary determinant of our own identity.

This is why the race card is so often played to inflame emotions and mobilise disproportionate support. The Alliance approach was the best choice because, as I said, “it is not too communal and yet its component parties have not forgotten their racial origins”. The coalition’s main problem was that it always needed to restrain and manage the communal inclinations it was dependent upon. It ran the risk of being overtaken by the communal passions that it sought to overcome. It was and is a difficult balancing act. In the real world, and in politics especially, one must often choose not between one thing and another, but how to combine and satisfy both.

DAP and PAS were extremely communal while the leftist Parti Sosialis Rakyat Malaysia
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 wanted people to forget all racial differences. The DAP still claims to be multiracial but how plausible is that claim when it is dominated by Chinese leaders? Their criterion and argument for accepting non-Chinese is that all will ostensibly benefit from their fight for non-Malays as a whole. But the main beneficiary of their struggle is the Chinese community. The link to the DAP’s predecessor, the PAP of Singapore, and its “Malaysian Malaysia” idea—which was supposedly for all Malaysians but which was really designed to benefit just one community—is evident.
 

Such is the way of politicians. They say seemingly harmless things but their objectives can differ greatly. I have a way of speaking bluntly which makes almost everyone uncomfortable. For instance, instead of playing the race card, I criticise the Malays openly. I know it makes make me unpopular but I hope they realise I’m actually trying to help. Sometimes harshness is necessary and I’d like to think that they recognise this.

Perhaps one day Malaysian politics will be a contest between highly functional and authentically multiracial parties. But for now, there are still disparities—too many and too obvious—among the races for this to happen. In Malaysia the race with the greatest numbers and economic influence soon dominates any supposedly multiracial organ or institution, no matter how noble or well-intentioned its formal guiding principles, and will accordingly ensure the interests of the majority are met first. The minority soon finds that the “fair deal” was a myth.

If the NEP succeeds in the long term, the country’s Malays will feel more capable of competing with the Chinese and will have less fear of Chinese domination. The Chinese in turn would experience less discrimination.

A multiracial party at that stage would not be too particular about the racial origins of its leaders or fearful of domination by any one race. Unfortunately, I think it will be a long time before Malaysians reach that level and until then, a coalition of communal parties serves Malaysia and its multiracial people better.

The success of PAS and DAP in the 1969 elections, I went on to say, was not because the Chinese truly believed in them. It was because they were angry with the Alliance Government and they wanted to teach it a lesson—that their support should not be taken for granted.

At the end of my talk at the Government Staff Training Centre, I was also again asked about my possible return to UMNO. “I can’t say whether I will return to the party,” I replied. “Somebody might want me back, somebody else might not.”

This was very shortly before my application to rejoin was approved.

At the time of that particular question-and-answer session, I was waiting for some sign of approval. I had been hearing all kinds of rumours but I am not usually the sort of person to pay attention to anonymous whispers. Sometimes, however, especially in moments of high anticipation, one cannot help it.

I had heard that there were powerful people who did not want me back in UMNO. They were angry over my letter, my refusal to apologise to the Tunku and the party, and they were particularly incensed at my statement to the Press that I would not crawl back. Even after Harun failed to get me to apologise, he still expressed a desire to see me back in the party. Journalists continued to speculate, many of them because they knew it would make good copy.

In June 1971, Tun Razak, in reply to a question from the Press about my rejoining the party said, “He (Mahathir) must apply through the proper party channels”. This was in response to my own statement that “there is every possibility of my rejoining UMNO”. Two days later, UMNO headquarters reiterated that “the party’s door is open to everyone including Dr Mahathir bin Mohamad”.

Perhaps Tun Razak saw me as partly responsible for the Tunku stepping down, giving him a chance to lead the country. In any case, it seemed clear to me that he knew that I had nothing against him, the Supreme Council or the other leaders of the party. People speculated that he was subtly trying to woo me, to co-opt my standing with the rank and file. I did not see things that way. I believed that he genuinely understood my concerns and recognised the principled nature of my stand towards the party and Malay political interest.

At first I thought “proper channels” meant joining a local branch of UMNO. Tunku Abdullah Tuanku Abdul Rahman told me his division, Rawang in Selangor, was ready to accept me as a member. So I joined the Rawang UMNO Division and Tunku Abdullah relayed the news to UMNO headquarters. Apparently this was not quite what Tun Razak meant by “the proper channels”. Before I could rejoin I needed approval from UMNO headquarters. First I had to be vetted by the Disciplinary Committee, and if it made a favourable recommendation, the Supreme Council then had to approve it.

I accordingly applied once more through my old Kota Star Selatan division and on 6 February 1972, I wrote to Tun Razak explaining why I wanted to rejoin. I said I still believed in the party’s policy and struggle. This time, no one insisted on an apology or that I recanted.

The crucial factor here was Tun Razak. Had he insisted on an apology, the others would have followed suit. In UMNO, if a leader is willing to concede, the others will usually not make an issue of things. So the Central Working Committee, also known as the Supreme Council, did not voice any objection except to refer my application to the Disciplinary Committee under Tun Dr Ismail, the Deputy President of the party and the Deputy Prime Minister.

I did not know Tun Dr Ismail well. He was very proper in manner, a taciturn person who was not given freely to open friendship with everyone. People within the party were scared of him. No one tried asking for favours because they knew they would not get any. The public also regarded him with a great deal of awe and respect. He was a medical doctor who had qualified in Australia and was from a well-to-do Johor family. His family and Dato’ Onn’s family were not on good terms, so he became involved in UMNO only after Dato’ Onn left the party. Later, when I rejoined UMNO, his political secretary Wahab Majid told me that Tun Dr Ismail did not like me very much. Why, he did not know, but it did not worry me greatly. It was something I thought I could manage.

I knew that there was still a strong possibility that my application would be rejected outright, but I was not unduly anxious. I have always tried to adopt the philosophy that whatever happens to me happens, and that I would simply have to accept it. Now, at this stage, the fact was that there were people who liked me and those who did not. But there is never a moment in a person’s life when he is liked by everyone. If there is, you are probably a nonentity, a person of little consequence or character. At the height of your popularity, there will always be someone who wishes you dead. Holding closely to that idea, I do not expect to be loved or supported by everyone.

I did not want to publicise my application because it would have been embarrassing if I were rejected, so I kept it as discreet as possible. Had I been rejected, I do not think it would have been the end of politics for me. There are many ways of skinning a cat. I have always employed what I later discovered was called “lateral thinking”—if I could not get in one way, I would try another. I would move sideways instead of seeking to bulldoze my way via a frontal assault. Consequently, I have almost always succeeded in finding some way of doing the things that I want. As soon as problems arise, possible solutions start spinning in my head. Initially they may not be perfect, but by making adjustments along the way I find that problems can be reasonably resolved, God willing. Still, the best-laid plan can go wrong. I never forget that while man proposes, God disposes. You make your plans and try your best. If you encounter problems you have to be flexible, analytical, and ready to try something else. This is the kind of modern sensibility that I have tried to encourage Malays to acquire and master.