A Doctor in The House: A Memoir of Tun Dr Mahathir Mohamad (45 page)

The Malays and Chinese had been at loggerheads over a number of issues before the riots, but now the so-called Malay privileges seemed to be less of a point of contention. The Malays also appeared to have accepted the founding of Tunku Abdul Rahman College, which was to be largely owned and operated by the MCA in place of the proposed Chinese university.

Much of the credit must go to Tun Dr Ismail, who had retired from politics earlier because of throat cancer. But after the riots he volunteered to come back, and was immediately made deputy head of the NOC. After taking over the premiership, Tun Razak appointed Tun Dr Ismail Deputy Prime Minister. He will always be remembered for being a good one.

When he became UMNO President and Prime Minister, Tun Razak embarked on a mission to bring all the political parties together, and he succeeded. He believed that politics should not be allowed to undermine a country’s development. All the new parties which had joined the expanded Alliance—renamed Barisan Nasional, or the National Front—were getting on well, whether they were Chinese, Malays, native Sabahans and Sarawakians, or Indians. Members of Parliament representing the Malay and Chinese communities were also seemingly reconciled with the new situation and the New Economic Policy.

The Barisan Nasional was established with a clear blueprint for viability and its success was no accident. Tun Razak made sure that this coalition was rooted in certain principles, one of which was the fair sharing of political power and economic wealth. The unwritten, perhaps even unspoken rules were simple: never expect to get everything you consider to be yours. Always expect to give up something so that others are also willing to make sacrifices. That is what sharing is all about. A committed willingness to share will reduce conflict, and the resulting stability promotes growth for each party’s share.

Prior to the 2008 General Election, the Barisan Nasional coalition was always strong enough to achieve at least a two-thirds majority at every General Election. This was important because if any party pulled out, the Government would not fall or be held to ransom. In a two-party coalition, on the other hand, when the minority party pulls out the Government would fall. Then the minority party may team up with the Opposition to form a Government. In a coalition of numerous parties, however, the party that pulls out will not reduce the majority of the Government to below 50 per cent. The defecting party will be in the Opposition. This acts as a deterrent against internal indiscipline.

There have been weaknesses and the Barisan Nasional is not always united. For example, the Chinese parties would look after Chinese interests and knowing the kind of strength they have, they could make demands and others must try to meet them halfway. But if they refuse to accept the solution offered and a break-up of the coalition takes place, they stand to lose as much as everyone else in the ensuing instability.

Under Tun Razak, the Barisan Nasional’s new coalition members included former Opposition parties such as SUPP in Sarawak, Gerakan in Penang, PPP in Perak, and even PAS for a time. Their willingness suggested that they and their supporters wanted to put the animosity which had led to the 1969 riots behind them. This left only one Opposition party, the DAP, which, despite a good showing in 1969, was much weakened after the other parties joined the coalition. Thus from the ashes of the 1969 riots rose a powerful coalition capable of bringing stability and growth to the country.

Fresh from a successful state visit to China in 1974, which marked a turning point in Malaysia’s foreign policy, Tun Razak decided to hold elections to show that the race riots had not affected Malaysia’s commitment to democracy. It was five years after the last General Election in 1969; in other words, we were right on schedule. Malaysia’s leaders, headed by Tun Razak, may be justly proud of the country’s stabilisation and the restoration of democratic elections. Few countries have been able to return to democracy after enduring riots and a consequent switch to authoritarianism. There were voices which urged the retention of the NOC Government, but the majority supported the end of emergency rule.

After I was re-admitted into UMNO I had been appointed a Federal Senator by the Kedah State Legislative Assembly. It was a position I was happy to have, but compared to being a member of the 
Dewan Rakyat
 or House of Representatives, it was not very satisfactory because a Senator has less influence than a Member of the Lower House. Although you can use the appointment as Senator to become a Minister, it looks like a backdoor entrance into the Cabinet. In the Senate there was no Opposition because Senators were appointed by the Federal and state governments, and all these governments, including Kelantan at that time, were held by the Barisan Nasional. There was no challenge and so, bored, I spent my time irritating the then Transport Minister Tun Sardon Jubir by asking him silly questions to make the Senate proceedings livelier.

But now it was time to face the 1974 General Election. I was persuaded to give up my old constituency of Kota Star Selatan, which I had lost in 1969. Its boundaries had been changed and it was given to a PAS candidate, as the understanding was that Barisan Nasional parties would field candidates for the seats they had won in the last election. I was not aware that I was initially earmarked for Padang Terap, a constituency in northeast Kedah. It was poor and sparsely populated, but UMNO members from the constituency of Kubang Pasu had other ideas.

When they learnt that a PAS member had been fielded for their constituency, a group of them, led by the father of the divisional head Osman Aroff, rushed to my house one night to ask me to be the Barisan Nasional candidate instead. UMNO had always represented Kubang Pasu, and they did not want that to change.

This was indicative of the general attitude that UMNO members had towards PAS. Although UMNO leaders wanted PAS in the Alliance, there was some unhappiness among the rank and file about the party’s inclusion. The quarrel among party members at the grassroots had become personal and they were not going to make up and be friends just because they were now both in the same coalition. They distrusted one another deeply and the idea of having someone from PAS represent the constituency was anathema to the Kubang Pasu UMNO Division. That was why they engineered my candidature to replace the proposed PAS candidate, Haji Shaari, who in 1964 had lost to me in Kota Star Selatan.

Fanatically loyal to their party, PAS supporters have always been rigidly disciplined. If their leaders decide that a candidate, even a recent defector from UMNO, should be supported, they give him their full support. PAS members know that their party will not abandon them. Even in constituencies which they know they have no hope of winning, such as those in Johor and Selangor, PAS makes sure to field a candidate so that its supporters in the area have someone to vote for. They want to make sure that no PAS supporter votes for UMNO, even by default.

I readily agreed to the suggestion to contest in Kubang Pasu, not knowing that I was supposed to contest the Padang Terap seat. They relayed the news to UMNO headquarters, which approved the switch. In preparation I resigned as Senator. Kubang Pasu was quite a large constituency, bigger than Kota Star Selatan. Hasmah worked in the area and I had lived there for a time, so I knew the people there. I thought I had a good chance of winning the seat because PAS was on our side and could therefore not field a candidate against me. There would, if at all, only be a weak independent candidate to face.

On nomination day I turned up at the Jitra District Office where I was to register as a candidate. From a distance I saw Ghazali Ya’acob, a former police officer, who probably was there to register as an independent candidate. Ghazali looked very surprised to see me as he had expected to see someone from PAS. Once he realised that I was the Barisan Nasional candidate contesting that seat, he decided not to stand. No other candidates registered, so I won Kubang Pasu uncontested—much to the chagrin of my supporters, who had been looking forward to an exciting time campaigning.

In Malaysia political parties enjoy a good election fight. There is the natural excitement of preparing for a campaign: posters must be put up, 
ceramah
 (small election rallies) are organised, and money is liberally spent on cigarettes, food and drinks for the campaign workers. No contest literally means no fun and no allowances, so the celebration over my uncontested victory was quite subdued. The best I could do for my campaign workers and supporters was to take them all to a local coffee shop where we had a good lunch. Yet despite everyone else’s disappointment, I was quite elated. I had won the seat without a fight and could now give my time to campaigning for UMNO candidates elsewhere.

Winning Kubang Pasu meant a return to Parliament, whose doors had been closed to me for the past five years. I relished the chance to participate once again in the debates and to speak on important national issues. There was a lot that I wanted to say and I got my chance sooner than I expected.

In October, shortly after the elections were over, Tun Razak unveiled his new Cabinet and named me Education Minister. I had been hoping to be made only Deputy Minister, but Tun Razak apparently thought I was experienced enough not to go through the usual process of holding a junior post before becoming a full Minister. A lot of people felt that my political rehabilitation was proceeding too quickly and that my rise through the party ranks was unprecedented. As a member of Cabinet, I was now at the very centre of decision-making in the Malaysian system of Government. I believe there was some resentment, but it was not too apparent.

I was in Alor Star when I got the news of my appointment from Bakar Mohd Nor, the Secretary to the Cabinet. He contacted me and said I was required to attend the swearing-in ceremony a few days later. In Malaysian politics, the Education Ministry has always been seen as a very important portfolio, as those who held the position were thought to have a higher chance of eventually becoming Prime Minister. Tun Razak himself had previously been Education Minister, as had Tun Hussein. But this supposed path into the Prime Minister’s office is far from certain. Although Tun Abdullah Ahmad Badawi, the Prime Minister who succeeded me, was once a Minister of Education, there have been several who held this post who did not make it to the nation’s highest office.

I was surprised by my appointment but the education portfolio suited me well. I had always had strong opinions about education, and that must have been well known. From the moment I first became involved in UMNO politics, I was chosen to head education committees. I was a member of the Council of the University of Malaya in 1966, chaired the Committee on Higher Education when Malaysia had only one university, and was involved in the founding of the Malay-language Universiti Kebangsaan. Upon my return to UMNO I was again made the Chairman of the Malaysian Higher Education Advisory Committee. I was reminded of how much importance my father had placed on education, for himself when he was a boy and later for his children. I also remembered my own long-held belief that a good education was an open door to the world, to upward mobility.

As Education Minister, I had to face problems almost immediately. Students began staging demonstrations on a massive scale in Kuala Lumpur in 1974, alleging that people were starving to death in Baling, a town in my own state of Kedah. I had earlier attempted to address their concerns at a student forum at the University of Malaya. There had never been a widespread food shortage in the country, I had told them, nor would our culture of sharing allow us to let our neighbours starve. But the students had already made up their minds to protest and demonstrate against the Government. Urged on by Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim, then the leader of 
Persatuan Bahasa Melayu Universiti Malaya
, the student organisation that promoted the use of the Malay langauge, students descended in full force upon what is now Dataran Merdeka, our Independence Square. They marched and carried banners, condemning the Government for not caring about the starving people in Baling, and they forced the police to cordon off parts of the city. Left to themselves the students may have started a riot, but as Education Minister I was more concerned about their not studying.

With Tun Razak and the then Home Minister Tun Ghazali Shafie, I pondered upon how to stop the  demonstrations and get the students back to the universities. My main contribution was to suggest that the police use canes rather than batons when confronting the students. I feared that the batons might crack skulls and cause permanent injury, even death, whereas a cane could only hurt. It would be painful but it would break no bones. Besides, it would be humiliating, making schoolboys of university undergraduates. It was very effective and from then on, the police used canes rather than batons when dealing with students and other demonstrators.

The demonstrations stopped soon after Anwar went to the police station to try and get the arrested students released. Instead, he himself was arrested and detained under the Internal Security Act. The students remained restless and Tun Razak was very concerned. I assured him that I could handle the situation. Among other measures, I introduced amendments to the University and University Colleges Act 1971, which greatly contributed towards restoring order in the institutions of higher learning.

Students, academics and intellectuals have roundly condemned me for introducing the amendments, which they consider undemocratic and repressive. They say the Act now dampens the civic-mindedness and intellectual activity of students and curbs their freedom of speech. They claim that the Act has resulted in young Malaysians becoming less creative and failing to grow into good leaders.

I really do not think so. To me, education is so important that nothing should be allowed to impede it. A leader experienced in demonstrations is not likely to be able to handle the complex machinery of Government, where management skills and diplomacy are required. Many revolutionary leaders fail completely to stabilise and develop their countries. In the end, they resort to strong-arm methods and show intolerance towards any opposition, the very ideas they fought against.