Capturing

Hope
The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Dr Mahathir bin Mohamad

Published by
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Copyright © 2021 Dr Mahathir bin Mohamad

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form
or by any means without prior permission from the copyright holder.

Cover photo © 2021 Tara Sosrowardoyo & Dr Mahathir bin Mohamad

All rights reserved. No reproduction in any form is permitted without prior permission
from copyright holders.

Produced by Salt Media Consultancy Sdn Bhd

Perpustakaan Negara Malaysia Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

Mahathir bin Mohamad, 1925-

CAPTURING HOPE: The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia /
Dr Mahathir bin Mohamad.
ISBN 978-967-2923-18-3
1. Mahathir bin Mohamad, 1925-. 2. Prime ministers—Malaysia—Anecdotes.
3. Malaysia—Politics and government.
I. Title.
808.882

Printed in Malaysia
 Contents

Acknowledgements iv
Preface vi
Chapter 1 Retirement 1
Chapter 2 The Storm Breaks 21
Chapter 3 Blogging, Bersih, Bersatu 35
Chapter 4 Saving Malaysia 53
Chapter 5 A Doctor Back in the House 86
Chapter 6 A Government of Hope 109
Chapter 7 The New Malay Dilemma 145
Chapter 8 Muslims in Crisis 168
Chapter 9 Education and Ethics 191
Chapter 10 Whither Democracy in Malaysia? 211
Chapter 11 Fall of Harapan 229
Chapter 12 Friends and Enemies 245
Chapter 13 The Unfinished Struggle 270
Perjuangan Yang Belum Selesai 281
About the Author 286
Index 287
 Acknowledgements

The first volume of my memoirs—A Doctor in the House—sold quite well.

I was not interested in the money. If people read what I wrote, I was
satisfied. There were others who started publishing compilations of my
speeches and articles too. I had nothing to do with these efforts, and I did
not mind it as long as what I had said and written was contributing to
debate and discussion.

However, when it turned out that my retirement was more active than
most people anticipated, a few of my friends asked me to write a sequel. I
resisted at first. I was too busy, especially in the months and years before
the 2018 General Election. But they kept pestering me, and finally I
relented. Besides, many things have happened in Malaysia since A Doctor in
the House, and I felt it might be good to set down my account on paper. So,
to these persistent friends—you know who you are—I record my thanks.

I wish to thank my daughter Marina, who urged me to publish the rather

iv large number of papers that I have written over the years. These are records
of my thoughts and recollections on a wide variety of subjects. Some of
these have found their way into this book (in so far as they are relevant to
my account), but a large number remain unpublished, so perhaps there will
be time for another book after this.

I would like to thank my editors—Rose Ismail, Fatimah Abu Bakar, Caroline

Yap Kim Ming and U-En Ng from Salt Media as well as members of their
support team, Dayang Miraffiorry and Ridzwan Othman. Salt—there were
other key members at the time, Shareem Amry and Sharon Nelson—was
also my editorial team for A Doctor in the House, and in fact they edited my
wife Hasmah’s memoirs as well. We spent many hours in discussion and
sending manuscripts back and forth as is the way of editors—and yet not
once did we meet in real life. This book was written, edited and published
during the COVID-19 pandemic, and we did everything online, which is
quite different from A Doctor in the House, which went through innumerable
typewritten drafts.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

I give my heartfelt thanks to Tan Sri Badariah Arshad and Ima Abu Bakar,
as well as all the loyal and hardworking staff at the Perdana Leadership
Foundation, for all the help they have given me.

I also wish to thank my publisher, MPH Group Publishing. I am very

pleased that this has been an entirely Malaysian book—written, edited,
published and printed by Malaysians in Malaysia.

And to you who now read this book, wherever you may be, I thank you
for your interest and attention. May you find something interesting in
these pages.

v
 Preface

This book is an account of my side of the story—not just the events

leading up to the fall of the Pakatan Government but also what the
Pakatan Government stood for and why. It is a very important story that
is still playing out. Clever manipulation has resulted in the United Malays
National Organisation (UMNO) returning to power. Tan Sri Muhyiddin
Yassin of Parti Pribumi Bersatu Malaysia (Bersatu) has been displaced as
Prime Minister by Datuk Seri Ismail Sabri Yaakob of UMNO. We must
give credit to Datuk Seri Najib Razak for this change.

This book covers my second premiership, from 2018 to 2020, and the
months that followed. It was a remarkable time because I found myself on
the same side as those who had been my political opponents for decades,
and we were united against the coalition that I had led for 22 years when I
was Prime Minister the first time around.

I had been President of UMNO as well as Chairman of the Barisan

vi Nasional coalition for 22 years. I was naturally regarded as the main enemy
of the Opposition. I had also been accused of practising cronyism, being
a dictator and being corrupt—to the Opposition I was the devil incarnate,
and some of them really did loathe me. So, when I was chosen by the
coalition of Opposition parties as their chairman and candidate for Prime
Minister in the 2018 General Election, I was shocked. It was unbelievable,
even though none of this had been sudden. It began when I decided to
campaign against the Government through a mass declaration by the
people. The Opposition parties supported the campaign strongly, and at
some of the gatherings I found myself sitting next to Lim Kit Siang, the
leader of the Democratic Action Party (DAP), who had been my political
adversary for many decades, and who had lambasted me and called me all
kinds of names throughout my first term as Prime Minister. But there I was
at these functions, sitting next to Kit Siang.

After I formed Bersatu, I realised very quickly that there was no way for us
to defeat UMNO and the Barisan Nasional in a general election if we were
to contest on our own. After much soul-searching, the Bersatu leadership
decided that only through joining the other Opposition parties could we
make a positive impact on the politics of the country. And so Bersatu
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

became part of the Opposition coalition called Pakatan Harapan—the

“Coalition of Hope”. I was made Chairman and was named the Pakatan
Harapan candidate for Prime Minister should the coalition win the 14th
General Election, although this was really due to the fact that the Leader
of the Opposition, Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim, was in jail. Had he been
free, he would have insisted on being named the candidate.

We won. I was then sworn in as the seventh Prime Minister of Malaysia.

This also was entirely without precedent in Malaysia; for 61 years after
independence, the nation had only known the Alliance and its successor, the
Barisan Nasional, as the elected Government. The idea of the Opposition
now forming the Government was simply unthinkable to a lot of people.

The installation of the new Government in Malaysia went smoothly. A

Cabinet was formed without difficulty and was able to govern effectively.
Yes, there were problems, but they were not such as to make the function
of the administration impossible. This is not to make light of the actual
challenges that we faced, which were enormous.

One of the recurrent criticisms against the Pakatan Harapan was that there
were too many non-Malays in it, and that the Chinese-dominated DAP vii
was in control of the country. In fact, the non-Malays were a majority
in the Pakatan Harapan campaign. This drove “pro-Malay” nationalists
against the Pakatan Harapan. Now, I have spent my entire life and career
being “pro-Malay”. If what people mean by that term is the dedication of
time and energy towards helping the Malay community progress, especially
in terms of education and income security, then, yes, I am certainly pro-
Malay. Being pro-Malay does not entail being anti-everyone else. However,
there are those who desire to be seen as “Malay-first” even ahead of
being Malaysian, and this enabled them to promote the idea of forming a
“Malay-Muslim Government”. In Malaysia, where more than 30 per cent
of the population is made up of non-Malays, this is not possible. And sure
enough, the new “Malay-Muslim Government” of the Perikatan Nasional
under Muhyiddin actually depended on non-Malays to survive.

I am a democrat and I am bound to accept the decision of the majority,

duly made without coercion or other undue pressure. In these pages I write
about how this caused me to be isolated within Bersatu. I was asked to
accept the decision of the Supreme Council to leave the Pakatan Harapan
coalition and join forces with the parties that we defeated in the elections.
 CAPTURING

HOPE

This went against my principles and was not what we had set out to do. I
was compelled to resign as Chairman, even if this automatically meant that
I would be resigning from the prime ministership. Besides, with some of
our MPs jumping to the other side, I expected that the fall of the Pakatan
Harapan Government was inevitable. Even if I did not resign, I would have
ceased to be Prime Minister when the Pakatan Harapan fell.

This book begins from where I left off in A Doctor in the House, but it is
about more than politics. Under the Pakatan Harapan, for the first time
in many years, our country was being impelled forward through a series
of visionary policies. This was the first time since the earliest days of the
Alliance in 1957 that a government of hope had come together to try to
chart a new path forward. Unlike the Alliance, however, there was no
dominant party, no dominant ideology and no dominant existential threat
such as Communism. Instead, there was a need to negotiate, understand
one another and break down deep-seated mistrust and barriers that had
formed over years of political and personal enmity.

I have also included lengthy discussions of three key issues into what is
otherwise a chronological narrative. These issues—the Malays, Muslims,
viii and the subject of education and ethics—stand at the centre of the
problems we face as a nation today. As such, I hope that they will not be
overshadowed by the more political parts of this story.

As this book goes to print, two governments have been formed involving
politicians who were rejected by the electorate at the 2018 General Election.
The whole democratic process had been turned upside down. Governments
can now be formed simply by inducing MPs to switch sides. If this results
in an elected Government losing its majority to groups without a popular
mandate, then, there is nothing the people can do. Clearly, this is the result
of principles not being as important as politics.

Furthermore, the country is still battling the COVID-19 pandemic. From

the alarming number of infections to the growing number of people being
brought in dead, I do not believe we will see the end of this nightmare
soon. The Perikatan Nasional Government has failed in its response to
the pandemic. This backdoor Government has no policies for economic
recovery or visions for development to bring Malaysia through this crisis.
And now it has been replaced by another Government by the same people
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

but with a new leader. No effective change has taken place. We cannot
expect anything better than the failure of the previous Government.

It breaks my heart that people are suffering. It angers me to see how

arrogant and insensitive some political leaders are in these difficult times.
They seem to have no humanitarian concerns and conscience.

For the record, I did not renege on my promise to the people, whose
mandate we, as the Pakatan Harapan, bore. It was never my intention to
desert the parties of the Pakatan Harapan that had successfully defeated
the kleptocrat Najib by entirely democratic means. At the same time the
Pakatan Harapan Government was never a hopeless cause. Far from it. To
this day, I believe that the Pakatan Harapan Government of 2018–2020,
with our policies and commitment to a cleaner, better future, was the right
path for Malaysia. And in the short period it governed the country, it did
much to reverse the abuses of the kleptocrats.

We were betrayed.

Dr Mahathir bin Mohamad ix

September 2021
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Chapter 1
Retirement

I had been looking forward to my retirement very much because I had a

lot that I wanted to do. So, soon after I stepped down in 2003 as Prime
Minister, I set up a non-government organisation—the Perdana Global
Peace Organisation (PGPO)—for the purpose of criminalising war. This
was a subject that had been very important to me for many years, but I
could not pursue it while I was the sitting Prime Minister of Malaysia.
In office, my duty was first and foremost to the people of Malaysia and
the development of the country’s economy and competitive ability on the
global stage. This by itself was a full-time job, and I was also President of
Malaysia’s main political party, the United Malays National Organisation
(UMNO), and Chairman of the Barisan Nasional coalition that governed
Malaysia. There was no time to pursue other dreams while I was Prime
Minister, but now that I was retired, I could finally devote my energies to
war—and the criminalisation of it.

Can you imagine taking a human life in order to achieve an objective,

whatever it might be? In the course of the Second World War, an estimated 1
70–85 million people lost their lives. There were deaths on every side,
among combatants and civilians who had nothing to do with the hostilities.
Millions of Jews and others were murdered by the Nazis in concentration
camps; millions of people died in the line of fire, in Hiroshima, Nagasaki,
Dresden and other places around the world. This is just the Second World
War alone. There have been so many wars since—it is what humans do to
other humans, and it is unfathomably inhuman.

The famed Prussian military theorist Carl von Clausewitz said that “war is
the continuation of politics by other means” but what can war resolve that
negotiation and diplomacy cannot? If in war you may not win, so also in
negotiations you may fail; but just as in war you may have victory, so also
through diplomacy may you gain success. Negotiation, arbitration and
submission to the judgment of a court of law—this is what human beings
should do if they are civilised and seek to resolve their conflicts in peace.
To resort to war and death is the instinct of an uncivilised society in which
life is nasty, brutish and short. Imagine: you quarrel with someone. What
do you do? Pick up a cudgel, or a sword, or a gun and kill him. Is that the
kind of society we want? How safe are we in a world that glorifies weapons
 CAPTURING

HOPE

and instruments of death? And yet people spend billions of dollars each
year producing new and better weapons for us to kill one another with. If
that money had been dedicated to medical research, for example, we might
already have a cure for cancer.

Murder is a crime. Everyone agrees. But state-sanctioned murder—when

the death toll is in the thousands or hundreds of thousands—you’re awarded
with a medal and maybe a statue. The misery you cause, the damage that
you create, all of it is tolerated because “it is war”. This way of thinking
defies logic, especially if we claim to be civilised. Yes, in negotiations, you
might not always have a win-win outcome; but in war, you almost always
have a no-win outcome. The Duke of Wellington was one of the greatest
military geniuses of the modern era, and even he lamented the cost of war:
“Nothing except a battle lost can be half so melancholy as a battle won,”
he wrote, after his great defeat of Napoleon at Waterloo.

If you asked a man to kill a baby, would he do it? If he were a normal,

sane and decent human being, of course he would not. But when you ask
a normal, sane, decent human being who is an air force bomber to drop
an atomic bomb on a civilian city in Japan—knowing this will kill not one
2 baby but thousands of people, would he do it? Around 140,000 people died
in Hiroshima. Who were they? Men, women, children, babies, sick people
and disabled people. All were killed by the hand of civilised, decent human
beings. There is something utterly wrong in a world where this can happen,
and now that I had retired from politics, I wanted to do something about it.

This was the rationale for PGPO. I had a very clear objective and I needed
an organisation that could help push for it. One person writing alone—even
a former Prime Minister—would not be effective. With an organisation of
people who shared the same beliefs about the evils of war, I believed we
could spread the word, have debates and discussions, and engage younger
people who would inherit this war-torn world from us. One of the main
initiatives we put forward was the establishment of the Kuala Lumpur War
Crimes Commission in 2007, which we believed was an important avenue
for the independent investigation of wartime atrocities, crimes against
humanity, and other offences under international law. The keyword was
“independent”—we could achieve independence as uninvolved third
parties in any conflict. When we have judges from nations that are actually
involved in hostilities, it can be very difficult to be impartial and be seen
to be impartial. In the international courts, for example, there is always
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

dominance by one country or bloc. These courts do draw judges from many
countries, and we have Pakistanis, Indians, Europeans and Americans
heading tribunals, which is very good, but they are still always dominated
by the powerful nations. The KL War Crimes Commission was intended
to serve as a pioneer on an alternative pathway to show not only that the
alternative was possible, but also that it was imperative for humanity to
uphold independence and seek justice in the face of power.

The Commission did not have a legal mandate to arrest suspected war
criminals or impose penalties—but this was not our purpose. We intended
to establish an unbiased public platform that could achieve the moral
victory of showing that no matter who you were or how powerful you were,
you were still subject to the laws of humanity and there would be people
in the world who would call you to account. In our tribunal of November
2011, we found former US President George W. Bush and former UK
Prime Minister Tony Blair guilty of crimes against peace in the unlawful
invasion and occupation of Iraq. At the time, this verdict was not taken
seriously enough, but in 2016 the UK revealed in its own inquiry (under
Sir John Chilcot) that Blair did not in fact have a satisfactory legal basis for
war in Iraq, and Blair was roundly criticised in the British Press as well as
in the House of Commons. Jeremy Corbyn, the Labour leader at the time, 3
said that the Iraq war was an “act of military aggression launched on a
false pretext” and had “long been regarded as illegal by the overwhelming
weight of international opinion.” At the time, however, the KL War
Crimes Commission received no support or acknowledgement from any
government. This is understandable. Governments do not enjoy being
judged by neutral bodies because they have no influence or control over
those bodies. For example, we can blame Myanmar for its treatment of the
Rohingya, and we can also blame the US Government for the number of
coups and attempted coups sponsored by the Central Intelligence Agency,
as well as its role in so many of the world’s conflicts in the 20th and 21st
centuries, or even the many deaths of African-Americans at the hands of
the domestic police.

No comeback as PM
I really wished to see the KL War Crimes Commission develop its role as
an independent voice for justice, just as I had hoped to continue pushing
for the criminalisation of war. The campaign was gaining momentum, but
it would be a long-drawn struggle. There were so many economic interests
 CAPTURING

HOPE

involved, from the arms lobby to oil and gas, and more, and I was ready
to lead this new initiative for peace at the global level. So, when I stepped
down as Prime Minister of Malaysia in 2003, I had no intention of making
a political comeback. By that stage, I had served my country for 29 years,
including 22 as Prime Minister. I was 78 years old and it was time for
younger people to take over. Besides my work with PGPO and the War
Crimes Commission, I continued to support the Government, but I did my
best to stay out of the limelight. I had an office at the Perdana Leadership
Foundation (PLF) in Putrajaya, where I spent time crafting speeches for
local and international audiences about the need for global peace. The
PLF was established after I retired as a place for preserving and developing
archives, documents and histories about past Malaysian Prime Ministers
and making all this information publicly accessible. The PLF maintains a
reference library, for example, which collects and indexes information on
the work of all Malaysian Prime Ministers. Following the well-established
practice of assisting retired Prime Ministers, the Government rented space
in the PLF building for me and a few of my staff.

To be honest, I expected to be consulted by the new Prime Minister should

there be any problems—I had been at the helm for 22 years and it would
4 have been silly not to make use of that. However, I did not accept the
proposal that I should become a “Senior Minister” as the late Lee Kuan
Yew had in Singapore. I wanted my successor, Tun Abdullah Ahmad
Badawi, to be free to do things his own way—as long as it was clear that it
was good for the country.

It thus came as an unpleasant shock when, hardly a week after my

resignation, Tun Abdullah cancelled a major national railway project.
We had agreed on the double-tracking and electrification of the railway
line from Johor Bahru to Padang Besar in Perlis—effectively modernising
the central Peninsular Malaysian railway system. Parts of it had already
been built, and the cost for completion was RM14 billion spread over six
years—i.e., about RM2 billion a year. It was affordable. We had discussed
this project in the Government when I was still Prime Minister and we had
agreed to do it. I had asked Abdullah to implement the project, and he had
promised to do so. I was in Japan when I was told about the cancellation,
and I was very upset. It was a necessary project and the cost was reasonable.
This was proven later when the segment between Ipoh–Penang–Padang
Besar (just over a third of the original length) became necessary and the
cost for just this segment alone was RM12 billion.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Tun Abdullah also cancelled other projects that the Government had
committed to when I was Prime Minister, and this started to cause
antagonism between us. This was not a question of legacy but continuity—
as the Government, we had a duty to put forward projects and policies for
the public good over the long term. The public, investors, employers, service
providers, must all be able to depend on the Government being consistent.
Cancelling government commitments, despite Tun Abdullah having been
a part of the decision-making process from the beginning, went against all
that. Perhaps he had his own reasons for cancelling those commitments
but, in any case, I made my objections clear and it was obvious that I would
not be accepted as adviser in whatever he proposed to do.

Despite this, I remained committed to the Government of the Barisan

Nasional. I had let it be known that I would always be available to help the
Government in election campaigns, and just over a year after taking over,
Tun Abdullah decided to call for a general election. So, during the 2004
election I spoke at rallies in all states except Terengganu in the northeast
of Peninsular Malaysia (the state UMNO leadership had decided not to
renominate the late Tan Sri Wan Mokhtar Wan Ahmad, who had been
Menteri Besar1 for five terms from 1974 to 1999, and while I agreed with
the party’s decision, I did not want to hurt his feelings by not supporting 5
him). For my part, I felt that it was important to set an example as a former
Government leader. I had always felt that many senior members of the
Government (Ministers and Members of Parliament, the various Menteri
Besar and state Chief Ministers, etc.) “disappeared” from the stage once
they were no longer in office and would make no effort to help the party
win. I believed that members who had received strong support from the
party before should “pay back” by helping the party during elections. So,
at these rallies, I emphasised that Tun Abdullah was a good man and that
supporting him was important for political continuity.

The election results amazed even me. Under Tun Abdullah, the Barisan
Nasional won a 90 per cent majority in Parliament, far more than the two-
thirds achieved under me in the previous five elections. Apparently, the
people were happy with the change of leadership.

Not long after that, however, it became clear that Tun Abdullah was not
equal to the challenges before him. This was a great disappointment to me
1
“Menteri Besar” is the head of the state government (i.e., the Chief Minister) in
Malaysian states ruled by a Sultan.
 CAPTURING

HOPE

because he initially seemed to appreciate the rationale behind the many

development projects needed to keep the economy vibrant and moving.
It was under Tun Abdullah’s watch, for example, that the fortunes of
Proton, the national car company that I had worked so hard to establish
and develop when I was Prime Minister, declined precipitously. It was
during this period that Proton sold off, for one euro, the Italian motorcycle
company MV Agusta, which it had earlier bought for more than RM200
million. The buyers later sold the company for USD109 million. Tun
Abdullah then announced several major infrastructure projects, including
the Second Penang Bridge, a monorail for Penang Island and extensions
to the Light Rail Transit system in the Klang Valley, among other things.
There were also other economic development initiatives for key regions in
the country, all of which were set to cost billions of ringgit.

While this in itself might have been acceptable, the next four years after the
2004 General Election showed Tun Abdullah to have been partial towards
members of his family. His children and his son-in-law Khairy Jamaluddin
Abu Bakar seemed to have unprecedented access to the Government, and
it was alleged that they even attended official government meetings. When
Khairy contested the post of Deputy Chief of the Youth wing of UMNO in
6 2004, I heard that a close family member actually telephoned instructions
to Youth members to vote for Khairy and not Mukhriz, my son, who was
contesting against him. Khairy won.

This was a particularly shameful event for UMNO. Some of my critics said
that I did not attend the opening of the UMNO General Assembly that
year because my son Mukhriz had been defeated by Khairy, but the real
reason I did not attend was because UMNO Youth had directly and openly
affirmed the politics of corruption. The Youth wing of the party had spoilt
the image of UMNO and the image of the Malays. Money had become
more important than the Malay community and the country. UMNO had
once been at the forefront of this struggle for decades, and now I felt as if I
would be tainted if I participated in a ceremony with so many people who
supported corrupt practices. I also wondered why the task of counting the
votes of the 790 delegates took more than six hours. Had something been
done to ensure the victory of Tun Abdullah’s son-in-law?

After Khairy’s victory, a number of his friends began to exercise undue

influence over the Government. They were ensconced on the fourth floor
of the Prime Minister’s Office, and a number of complaints were raised
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

about how the “Fourth Floor Boys” interfered in government business. For
example, the state of Terengganu had the biggest offshore oil reserves and
stood to gain a lot by way of oil and gas royalties. However, Terengganu
was under a Parti Islam Se-Malaysia (PAS) state government, which was
opposed to the Barisan Nasional at the time, and thus it was decided that
the Federal Government would manage the so-called “Wang Ehsan” (this
literally means “compassionate fund”) charity. Suddenly there appeared
a man, Datuk Patrick Lim, who was not a member of the Government,
but who was Khairy Jamaluddin’s business partner. Lim seemed to be so
favoured by Tun Abdullah that he became known as “Patrick Badawi”, and
he was put in charge of spending the Wang Ehsan. So, he built hotels, the
fabulous Crystal Mosque, and many other costly projects including luxury
homes for sale to foreigners, a theme park, and more. He also brought a
yacht race—The Monsoon Cup—to Terengganu on a five-year contract
and all of it was paid for with the Wang Ehsan.

Admittedly, some of these projects were very good, but many were entirely
unnecessary and wasteful, eventually leading Terengganu residents to
complain that these billion-ringgit projects benefited people outside the
state. There was also a flurry of rumours that the contracts went to a single
person, and that person was connected to members of Tun Abdullah’s family. 7
Rumours are just rumours, but when they were levelled at a government
that was keen to eradicate corruption and promote transparency, then
every effort should have been made to debunk the rumours. However,
Khairy Jamaluddin, Patrick Badawi and the Fourth Floor Boys seemed
to go unchallenged, and Tun Abdullah Badawi started to become quite
unpopular as a Prime Minister. At the same time, Malaysia’s economic
performance began to lag, and the Fourth Floor Boys soon became the
centre of much public criticism.

I was very unhappy about Tun Abdullah’s administration. I found myself

unable to accept the open nepotism that was going on, and I campaigned
to expose these wrongdoings to no avail. As time passed, however, Tun
Abdullah’s Government became increasingly unpopular with the people,
and when he called for a general election in March 2008, the results were
disastrous for the Barisan Nasional. I had some inkling that the Government
would lose some seats, but the extent of the Barisan coalition’s humiliation
was far greater than I had expected. We lost five state governments—
Penang, Selangor, Kedah, Perak and Kelantan, as well as the majority of
parliamentary seats in the Federal Territory of Kuala Lumpur. Considering
 CAPTURING

HOPE

that the coalition had won 90 per cent of the seats in 2004, the losses in
2008 were unprecedented and catastrophic.

It was the last straw, and I resigned from UMNO because the party was
no longer the same UMNO that was founded 62 years previously, which
had fought for the Malays, Islam and Malaysia—the UMNO that had
successfully opposed the Malayan Union, gained independence and later
developed Malaysia. I wrote that UMNO under Tun Abdullah had become
a party that seemed to exist simply to support him and his family’s private
initiatives, and had nothing to do with the country and championing the
national interest. I said that I would join UMNO again once Tun Abdullah
ceased to be party president, Chairman of the Barisan Nasional and Prime
Minister of Malaysia. Soon, other UMNO members turned against him.
They demanded that he made way for his deputy, Datuk Seri Najib Razak.
I was all for Najib taking the helm. I had worked hard to have Tun Abdullah
appoint him Deputy Prime Minister.

And so, on 9 October 2008, Tun Abdullah Ahmad Badawi finally

announced that he would not defend the party presidency at the UMNO
General Assembly in March 2009. This would pave the way for Najib to
8 take over as UMNO President and Malaysia’s sixth Prime Minister.

When the appointed day arrived, I attended the Assembly, sitting in the
observers’ gallery. Tun Abdullah did indeed resign, and Najib was duly
elected to the presidency unopposed. I was elated and joined in the
applause. The nation was in good hands at last. Najib was the eldest son of
the second Prime Minister, Tun Abdul Razak Hussein, not just one of the
most revered leaders of UMNO but someone who had been instrumental
in founding the party. Tun Razak was also the chief architect of the New
Economic Policy, of Malaysia’s rural development programme, and in
fact of the Barisan Nasional coalition itself, which had been the model of
multiracial and multireligious cooperation for decades. Najib, I thought,
was qualified enough and experienced enough for a position of leadership;
and as the son of Razak, I felt he would surely be made of the same stuff.

At last, I could enjoy my retirement.

The first years under Najib

On 4 April 2009, the day after Najib took up the reins of Government,
I submitted my application to join UMNO again. Filled with optimism
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

about the future, I said I hoped that others who had left the party with me
would also follow me back. Najib welcomed my return, saying it would
help with UMNO’s rebuilding process. To be sure, there were many who
criticised me, asking why I had returned to a party that I myself had accused
of being corrupt. When I left UMNO in May 2008 I had said that I would
return only when Tun Abdullah was no longer running the country. Now
that he was no longer UMNO President and the nation’s Prime Minister,
my conditions for returning had been met.

However, this did not mean that I was willing to tolerate corruption in
UMNO, and at the time I believed that Najib was likely to make more of
an effort to eliminate corruption than Tun Abdullah. I certainly hoped
he would not choose Khairy Jamaluddin, who had been found guilty of
corruption by the UMNO Disciplinary Committee but was still allowed to
contest the position of UMNO Youth Chief. Being a member of UMNO
also did not mean that I would no longer criticise the party or the Barisan
Nasional Government if I saw something wrong taking place.

Najib began well enough. In his closing speech at the 2009 UMNO
General Assembly when he was elected UMNO President, he explained
that besides controlling the party, the people must also control the 9
Government. Unlike many other UMNO leaders, who seemed to think
that the Government belonged to UMNO and that they should “profit”
from that relationship, Najib appeared to be of the view that the people had
a stake in the Government and therefore could not be ignored. The rakyat
(the citizens of Malaysia) might not be able to attend the UMNO General
Assembly, but they could make their views known at a general election.

The day after Najib became Prime Minister, he went on a walkabout to

meet people of various races and walks of life. It was an important move
after the increase in ethnic tensions and concerns about rising prices
during Tun Abdullah’s tenure as Prime Minister. Najib’s initial actions
were one more reason that made me believe things would improve—but
sadly, the new Cabinet he announced on 9 April suggested that some
important considerations were being overlooked. The exclusion of Khairy
Jamaluddin seemed to show the desire on the part of the new Prime
Minister to rid UMNO of corruption. But the inclusion of several other
unsavoury characters who had been accused of corruption while serving
in Tun Abdullah’s Government did not feel right to me. Najib must surely
have known that he had less than three years to regain the support of the
people—but things did not improve.
 CAPTURING

HOPE

In fact, it soon became apparent that Najib was not going to correct the
mistakes made by Tun Abdullah’s Government. I had expected him to
negotiate the price of raw water that we sold to Singapore, as well as the
construction of the so-called “Crooked Bridge” to replace the old Causeway
linking the island to Malaysia. He did nothing. In fact, he seemed to think
of Singapore as a nice place to relax and enjoy himself.

The public, however, were preoccupied with something else—there was an

increasing amount of agitation about the conduct and behaviour of Najib’s
wife, Datin Seri Rosmah Mansor, with some claiming that she acted as
if she were the Prime Minister instead of Najib. Indeed, she insisted on
making televised speeches when the country celebrated certain official
national days, and a great deal of talk circulated regarding her incredible
arrogance. She would be very late for official functions, sometimes arriving
long after her husband had arrived. She would be referred to as “First
Lady”. We do not have a First Lady in Malaysia and the wife of the Prime
Minister has never been a formal government office. But then came the very
lavish wedding of their daughter with decorations so expensive that guests
were barred from bringing their mobile phones, lest they take and circulate
photos of the event. There were also reports of extravagant shopping trips
10 abroad, with purchases of jewellery worth millions of dollars.

This was quite disturbing, but I tried to remain on good terms with Najib.
When he began his Bantuan Rakyat 1Malaysia (1Malaysia People’s
Assistance) initiative, I met him several times and tried to point out that
public handouts were a bad idea. Handouts encourage financial dependence
on the Government when people should acquire the skills and knowledge
to earn a living. Government aid should be extended only to those who are
unable to fend for themselves. Najib’s reply was startling. “Cash is king,”
he said. This sounded too much like “bribery is okay”. Surely the Prime
Minister was not advocating bribing people to get their support? I told him
that Malay support, especially rural Malay support, could be easily won
by going to the kampungs, meeting the villagers and shaking their hands.
If you could remember their names and ask about their children studying
abroad on scholarships, they would be eternally loyal to you. Najib did not
believe in this. He believed in big money. He preferred to hand out millions
to buy and retain the loyalty of the people.

By the time the 2013 General Election came around, I told Najib that I
would continue to support the Barisan Nasional, but if the coalition fared
worse under him than it did under Tun Abdullah, then he should resign.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

The 2013 General Election and a weaker government

A total of 222 seats in Parliament were contested in the General Election of
May 2013. The Barisan Nasional was returned to the Federal Government,
winning 133 seats, while the opposition Pakatan Rakyat coalition took
89 seats. The Barisan Nasional also managed to recapture the state
governments of Kedah and Perak from the Pakatan Rakyat, but a closer
look at the national results, however, suggested that the Barisan Nasional
was in serious trouble. Overall, the Pakatan Rakyat gained a significantly
higher proportion of the popular vote at 50.87 per cent compared to the
Barisan Nasional’s 47.38 per cent. The Opposition also retained control of
three states: Kelantan, Penang and Selangor.

After Parliament was dissolved on 13 April 2013, I was interviewed by

a BBC journalist. He appeared quite convinced that race-based parties,
particularly those in the Barisan Nasional, would be rejected by a more
liberal electorate that believed in democracy, freedom and non-racial
politics. He also thought that the idealistic young would reject the Barisan
Nasional. I disagreed, arguing that racial polarisation in Malaysia had
become more pronounced than ever before. After 60 years of involvement
in Malaysian politics, I felt strongly that the racial factor would continue to
11
influence the politics of the country and that the quality of the candidates
or parties, their respective ideologies and the desire for change, would
always be secondary considerations for the electorate.

Playing on racial sentiments, the Chinese-dominated Democratic Action

Party (DAP) drew the Chinese away from the Barisan Nasional by depicting
the Malaysian Chinese Association (MCA, the principal Chinese-based
political party of the coalition) as lackeys of the Malay-based UMNO.
The DAP won 38 seats, reducing the MCA’s parliamentary representation
from 15 seats to seven. Parti Gerakan Rakyat Malaysia (or Gerakan, a
Chinese-dominated Barisan component party) won one seat out of the two
it contested. All the DAP’s Chinese candidates had contested in Chinese-
majority constituencies, while a few of the MCA, Gerakan and Malaysian
Indian Congress (MIC) candidates had contested in Malay-majority
constituencies.

The reality was that although the DAP claimed to be multiracial, it was
(and still is) perceived to be a Chinese party with mainly Chinese members
and leadership. When the party held elections to its Central Committee
on 15 December 2012, almost all the successful candidates were Chinese.
For many years, the more extreme faction of the DAP had whipped up
 CAPTURING

HOPE

animosity against the Malays through the slogan “Malaysian Malaysia”,

implying that non-Malays were discriminated against and were effectively
second-class citizens. Advocating their own version of meritocracy,
there were some within the DAP who accused the Barisan Nasional of
discriminating in favour of the Malays, even those who were less qualified
for (and therefore undeserving of) places in universities, scholarships,
contracts, licences and positions in the Government. Whenever someone
attempted to defend the Government’s policies, he or she (whether in the
Government or in a non-government organisation) would be labelled a
racist. The Malay parties in the opposition Pakatan Rakyat coalition
seemed to be merely tolerated by this fringe because they were useful for
election purposes.

The indisputable fact was that this kind of rhetoric was destroying the
political collaboration and power-sharing among the different races that
the Barisan Nasional coalition had once sought to promote, and now
the schism among the races seemed to grow deeper and deeper each
day. By November 2013, I felt I had to speak out more strongly. “The
political situation has become unstable because of the perception that the
Government is weak and the lunatic fringe now holds sway over politics
12 in the country,” I said in a speech to the Perdana Leadership Foundation.
“We have a Government that is weak because of weak support from the
people, and with a tendency to accede to the demands of extremists in
the Opposition.” The proper response to extremism, I pointed out, was
not accommodation because this would result only in more extremism.
Political leaders must be firm and reject extremism of all kinds and
empower moderates, who are normally voiceless because they are often
drowned out or simply afraid of being condemned by the extremists.

By mid-2014 there were a number of people who were reporting to Najib

that I was running down his Government. I could not deny that I had
repeatedly criticised official policies, but I felt that such criticism was
necessary. Governments that are not criticised will soon begin to believe
that everything they do is right—if you are interested in knowing what
your mistakes are and learning from them, the only way to move forward
is to be open to criticism.

Many readers will be familiar with the legend of King Canute and the
tide. Canute was a real historical king of Anglo-Saxon England in the 11th
century, before the Norman Conquest. The story is that Canute set his
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

throne down on the beach and commanded the tide to halt before it touched
his feet and robes. The tide did no such thing, whereupon Canute told his
courtiers: “Let all men know how empty and worthless is the power of
kings” before the power of God and Nature. Many historians interpret this
as the king’s criticism of the false flattery of the courtiers and a warning
not to heed them. There is also the old fairy tale about the Emperor’s new
clothes, which I hope needs no introduction at all. Both these stories have
the same moral—do not be taken in by flattery.

Malays also have many sayings that guide their lives. I would like to
mention this one:

Sayangkan anak tangan-tangankan

Sayangkan isteri tinggal-tinggalkan
(These sayings are similar to “spare the rod, spoil the child/wife”.)

To which I would like to add:

Sayangkan pemimpin tegur-tegurkan

(Which generally means “spare the criticism, spoil the leader”.)
13
Malays do not find it easy to criticise leaders. Even when a leader is
obviously wrong, no one feels able to criticise him openly—but they will
talk behind his back. In this, I find myself to be a little different from other
Malays. When Tunku Abdul Rahman, Malaysia’s first Prime Minister,
implemented policies and actions that many Malays did not like, I wrote
him an honest, open letter and I was expelled from UMNO for my efforts.
The Tunku eventually resigned as Prime Minister, perhaps not simply
because of my criticism, but the fact is that he did resign. It was the same
with Tun Abdullah—perhaps it had something to do with my disapproval,
or perhaps because of the Barisan’s abysmal performance in the 2008
General Election, or both, but the fact is that Tun Abdullah resigned. I,
too, resigned as Prime Minister in 2003, and part of the reason why I did
so was because I was hearing whispers: “When is the old man going to
step down?” I believe that if I hadn’t resigned the whispering would have
become louder, and then I would have had to resign in disgrace.

Sadly, by 2014 it had become abundantly clear that Najib’s policies and
actions were no better than those of Tun Abdullah. Even so, I continued
to hope that he would learn from the Barisan’s performance in the 2013
 CAPTURING

HOPE

General Election. Unfortunately, there did not seem to be any change in

the Government’s policies or approach despite the fact that I tried to convey
my opinion (which was also the opinion of many others) directly to him.

At that time, I was still a member and supporter of UMNO, and perhaps
you might be wondering why.

Darkening skies
Having returned to UMNO, I felt obliged to remain loyal to the party.
I wanted to see the party continue to represent, defend and advance
the Malays. But I was also aware that UMNO was suffering from a
terrible illness. I continued to blog about the need for UMNO to be
renewed, particularly with leaders drawn from the younger generation.
Unfortunately, there were those who thought my articles had a particular
agenda—supposedly, I wanted to return to the leadership through my son
Mukhriz. If I had wanted to help Mukhriz, I would have done it when I was
Prime Minister and had the ability, influence and power to do so. But I did
not—I actually insisted that he stayed out of politics. What I wanted to do
with my criticisms and articles was to help restore UMNO and contribute
14
to its future. I myself was not important. UMNO and the Malays were
more important than me or my children, although on reflection now, I do
not think it was very fair that my children should have suffered because I
wanted to preserve my good name.

I believed that if UMNO could be renewed by the young, then it could

continue the struggles entrusted to it by the Malays. UMNO members had
to be revitalised by the active participation of a vibrant young generation.
This was true of the UMNO leadership at all levels, including the Supreme
Council. I believed that the members of this august body should also be
partly composed of young people. After all, when UMNO was founded
in May 1946, its leaders were young—the average age was not even half
a century. Many were just in their thirties. They had the mental fitness
of young people. They were passionate and had great ambitions for their
nation. As a result, UMNO was visionary and effective. The contribution
of young people—young UMNO members—to the founding of the nation
cannot be overstated. In my articles I urged UMNO to accept more young
people into positions of authority in the party. Only in this way, I believed,
could UMNO’s mission continue into the future.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Yes, being a leader is very satisfying. All amenities can be enjoyed. But
many, to paraphrase Lord Acton, are spoilt by the power they wield.
Then the abuses begin. Tolerance for criticism diminishes. Warning signs
and disregard for adverse information grow. Sooner or later, such leaders
become tyrants. Sooner or later, they are overthrown. Unfortunately, many
in UMNO were already spoilt and tempted by money. In September 2013,
I wrote on my blog that even as little as RM200 could trigger a shift in the
minds of some UMNO members. But they were not just selling votes—
they were selling out the nation, their dignity and their heritage. People
were joining UMNO because they knew there was money to be made. The
original purpose and vision of UMNO seemed to have been forgotten, cast
by the wayside.

UMNO has done a lot of things for Malaysia, and in particular the
Malays. It is a Malay party, and as such it defeated the Malayan Union
and was instrumental in winning the independence of Malaya from
Britain. Subsequently Malaysia managed much better than many other
former colonies which became independent around the same time. We
were able to grow, develop and progress with relatively little civil strife.
There were the race riots of May 1969, but the important thing is that
Malaysians settled that problem by themselves, without having to seek 15
aid or intervention from anyone. Tun Razak—Najib’s father—who was
UMNO President and Prime Minister at that time, was able to reconcile
even with the parliamentary Opposition to form a unity government for
the purpose of healing the country.

In the early days, UMNO was an open party run by very capable people.
Yes, it has always been a Malay party and it has had its own extreme
factions from time to time, but as an institution and a leading component
of the Barisan Nasional, UMNO has always championed a policy of
active cooperation and collaboration with non-Malays. Through this
system of consensus-building and mutual respect, we turned a primarily
agrarian nation that was quite poor into a dynamic modern economy that
grew eventually to become the 17th-largest export trading nation in the
world. Certainly, not everyone will accept this view of things, and there
are those who will remain bitterly opposed to UMNO to the very end, but
this has always been my understanding of UMNO and its place within
the Barisan Nasional—it was first among equals, yes, but it was also an
example of openness, honesty and integrity, providing opportunities for
everyone to prosper.
 CAPTURING

HOPE

But something changed along the way. After I stepped down, UMNO
leaders began prioritising their own interests, or their families’ interests,
above everyone else’s. Cash became king, and this king could apparently
command the waves to halt. Now we have personality cults—politicians
happily flaunting vast amounts of wealth and being accompanied by
entourages more befitting of Ottoman despots than Ministers in a modern
democracy. What happened?

Malaysia was becoming rich, and people could see that if you became a
Minister, you stood to make quite a lot of money. People began to think
about outright bribery—if you could buy support with cash, you could
become a member of the Supreme Council, a Member of Parliament, a
Deputy Minister, Minister, or even Prime Minister. This applied even to
the smallest unit of the party—the branch. Members wanted to be elected
branch chairmen because they stood to gain from division leaders who
needed their support, and they learnt to ask for money, plush contracts
which they could sell to someone else, and so forth. And as the country
prospered, more and more UMNO members started to think: “What’s in
it for me?” Soon, no one was talking about the original struggles of the
party—education, poverty, uplifting the socio-economic condition of the
16 Malays, all of which were still valid concerns after more than 50 years of
UMNO-led government.

Corruption is a cancer that rots your party from the inside out and deprives
you of the very political power you seek. This is why I have always bitterly
opposed corruption. Some people accuse me of being corrupt, but they
produce no evidence of my corruption or of my seeking wealth and
contracts for myself or my children. My children have made their own way
through life (both upwards and downwards) without my help. I was very
conscious that one day I would have to retire and it is much better to lead
a life that is beyond reproach, especially when you are Prime Minister, to
ensure that you will have a peaceful and comfortable retirement after your
time has passed.

There has been no peace and comfort—especially not since the Prime
Minister himself could use the phrase “cash is king” and seriously believe
it. According to Najib, if you had a lot of money, you could buy support
but the sums involved would presumably have been enormous. You would
have had to give away millions. So where did Najib and his ilk get their
money? First, they used government money, such as overpriced contracts
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

and the like. Then they borrowed huge sums—I will write about what I
knew of the 1Malaysia Development Berhad scandal in the next chapter.
They borrowed billions and stole a part, then left the Government—that
is to say, the public—to foot the bill if anything went wrong. Obviously,
the quality of politicians in UMNO and elsewhere has deteriorated a
great deal because of corruption, which is now endemic throughout the
political system.

Today, not many people know about the origins of UMNO. To be fair, not
many who do know that story are still alive. I was there at the beginning,
at the very first Congress that was held at the Sultan Sulaiman Club in
Kuala Lumpur. I was not a participant but an observer. And since then,
I have been a part of UMNO’s fate, and its fate has been a part of mine,
all the way through the 20th century and into the 21st until I resigned my
membership in Tun Abdullah’s time. I know more about UMNO than most
people do because I went through it myself—I was a member and a leader.
I saw the good that the party achieved and endured the challenges it faced.
So, it was a terrible thing—a horrible disappointment to me personally—to
see UMNO so engulfed and afflicted by the disease of corruption at the
hands of crooks who were there only for their own selfish needs. UMNO
deserved better than this. 17

These were my private feelings at the time, and I needed to make an effort
to articulate them publicly at least one more time. I decided to make
another stand at the end of 2014. I could not attend the annual UMNO
General Assembly in November that year owing to poor health. Some
observers said that my absence was a snub—after all, I had skipped three
general assemblies under Tun Abdullah and had not missed a single one
after Najib became UMNO President and Prime Minister. But the reality
was that I really was unwell. I was almost 90 at the time, and at that age
even the slightest cough could be a cause for alarm. In fact, I had to cancel
several appointments in the week leading up to the event, but even so, I felt
that as one of the elders of UMNO it was my responsibility to explain my
views about the weaknesses of the party on my blog. After all, everyone
knew by then that UMNO was unpopular. Some were even saying that the
party was no longer relevant.

What were the mistakes made by UMNO leaders and members? The first
was to consider UMNO as a springboard for self-enrichment. UMNO was
only accepting new members who were not perceived to be a threat to
 CAPTURING

HOPE

the position of existing leaders. This was true at all levels. Local branches
would not accept any person who was deemed capable of challenging the
head of the branch. As a result, only poorly qualified or poorly talented
Malays were accepted, and when the local leader retired, his successor
would be weaker and less capable. The result was a lack of quality
leadership throughout the branch and division levels. This explained why
the party was unable to give a clear answer as to who would be the Menteri
Besar of Selangor if the Barisan Nasional won the state election. Selangor
was packed with talented and well-to-do Malays who did not need to use
UMNO to enrich themselves—but most were unable to join the party, and
those who did found themselves blocked if they aspired to leadership roles.
UMNO had developed a “warlord” culture, with each petty leader saying
“this is mine” or even “UMNO is mine”.

The second major weakness was the lack of internal criticism, as I

mentioned earlier. Previous Prime Ministers—Tunku Abdul Rahman,
Tun Razak and Tun Hussein Onn—were leaders who were not only
criticised but also challenged. I, too, was challenged and almost lost the
party leadership in 1987, but under Najib I was advised not to criticise
the Government publicly. At first, I followed this advice and made my
18 criticisms in private, particularly regarding UMNO and issues affecting
Bumiputera. But it did not work.

My hope for the 2014 General Assembly was that UMNO delegates
would take the opportunity to criticise party leaders openly, and that
the leaders would take the views expressed by party delegates seriously.
The delegates might not have been as clever as the foreign consultants
the Government liked to employ at the time, but I believed they were
not stupid either. Unfortunately, the sort of criticism and response I was
hoping for did not materialise.

Something rotten
In Shakespeare’s Hamlet, a palace guard named Marcellus makes the famous
remark that “something is rotten in the state of Denmark.” Shakespeare’s
play is a tragedy that begins with palace intrigue, and the line by Marcellus
is now often quoted to refer to corruption or some other situation that
is terribly wrong in an institution, organisation or even country. Up until
this time, I had been making my observations and criticisms known—but
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

they were from my perspective alone and based on my experience as a

politician. I was now becoming increasingly aware of complaints being
made by Malaysians about Malaysia. It was clear to me that others, too,
thought that there was something rotten in the state of Malaysia. In
February 2015, I listed several of these complaints on my blog, hoping
that people could decide for themselves whether things really were as bad
as they seemed. The following paragraphs summarise the kind of things I
was hearing. These involved issues close to my heart, especially economic
development and progress, but there were other issues as well.

Some businessmen were telling me that the Government was unwilling

to pay them for work done. There always seemed to be disputes about
whether the Government owed them anything at all. If the court decided
that the Government had to pay, then there would be another dispute
with regard to the amount. There would also be other delays, some of
them lasting for years, and for many businesses, such delays could be fatal.
Then there were those companies whose contracts had been withdrawn
for unknown reasons. These contracts were often given to other people
even after the original contract documents had been signed and sealed.
Yet others complained that their project submissions had been revealed to
others, presumably so that these competitors could make almost identical 19
submissions. Frequently, the first bidder failed or had to raise his bid
because others had quoted higher prices or lower prices as the case may be.

Then there were delays in obtaining the necessary approvals, often for
frivolous reasons—and sometimes, to speed up approval it became necessary
to offer financial gratification. The party that paid never complained or
made a report. This was a terribly unhealthy situation but the business
people involved knew they might need the services of the corrupt officials
in the future and they did not want to be blacklisted.

Other situations involved officials giving notice of immediate termination

of permits long before the permits were actually due for termination.
Sometimes, it seemed as if the authorities wanted to take over these
businesses for themselves. The aggrieved parties could appeal, of course,
but they would lose in the end. Sometimes an appeal was ignored, or
the officials would say they were not free to meet. Or if a meeting did
take place, the applicant would be told that the loss was his problem and
therefore not the concern of the Government. Sometimes, permission
 CAPTURING

HOPE

to develop vacant land could not be granted because some authority or

powerful person wanted the land. There was no one to appeal to, or rather,
no one with real authority. Even if it was possible to find out who wanted
the land, it was not possible to do anything about it. Such people were just
too powerful.

There were also cases involving government-owned entities with more than
a thousand workers that had to let employees go because the Government
had issued a contract to a foreign party that would lead to the government
facility either closing down or obtaining a minor subcontract from the
favoured foreign contractor. In this environment, local companies with
adequate competence were not considered for contracts because foreign
companies could do the job—maybe better, maybe not. The more usual
excuse was that local companies were “too small”, and as a result a lot of
money flowed out of the country.

Meanwhile, major Malaysian companies seemed reluctant to invest at

home. They preferred to buy properties in foreign countries, and the prices
they paid were sometimes indefensibly high. Again, lots of money flowed
out of the country, and when profits were made, taxes were paid to the
20 foreign country. Even when the money was brought back, it was repatriated
in such a way that no tax was paid to the Malaysian Government. Wealthy
Malaysian institutions would have done better buying foreign technology
companies and bringing them home to improve our national technological
capacity, but there were no official policies encouraging this. Conversely, if
Malaysian companies got into trouble, the Government seemed to prefer
bankrupting them and selling them to foreigners. Rescue proposals by
Malaysian corporate white knights were not entertained—for some reason
these white knights were said to be unable to do the necessary due diligence.

There were a great many other complaints, but critics as well as certain
individuals and politicians were being attacked in the mainstream media,
and some critics were even bankrupted and their property seized and
auctioned. At the time I suspected that a conspiracy of greed and self-
interest had taken hold of the Government, which had now been reduced
to doing little actual governing.

There was indeed something very rotten in the state of Malaysia, and we
would all soon learn its name: 1Malaysia Development Berhad (1MDB).
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Chapter 2
The Storm Breaks

There had been rumours for months—vague allusions to government funds

being diverted into private accounts—but when the truth about 1Malaysia
Development Berhad finally came to light in 2015, Malaysians were
shocked. I was shocked too. I could not imagine how any individual in a
position of trust, let alone the Prime Minister, could have RM2.6 billion
(USD700 million) in his personal bank account. Furthermore, it involved
Datuk Seri Najib Razak—the son of Malaysia’s second Prime Minister
Tun Abdul Razak Hussein, whom we fondly remember as the “Father
of Development” for his role in modernising the country and who was
instrumental in my own rise in the United Malays National Organisation
(UMNO) and the Government.

It is true that by 2015, I was already quite at odds with Najib and his
administration over a number of issues, which I mentioned in the previous
chapter. I was once very confident that Najib would do well as Prime Minister,
so much so that I pressured my immediate successor, Tun Abdullah Ahmad
Badawi, to appoint him as Deputy Prime Minister. This was to have been a 21
clear succession that would ensure a stable and orderly handover long after
I left the scene. Hence, the scale of Najib’s betrayal of the public trust, not
to mention my personal faith in him, was unimaginable.

Signs of breakdown
Besides the issues I wrote of in Chapter 1, Najib had also begun recruiting
a number of outside advisers to help him run the country. Ignoring the
Economic Planning Unit (EPU), which was a very influential and
highly respected division of the Prime Minister’s Department, as well
as other Government departments, Najib established an entirely new
agency in 2009 called the Performance Management and Delivery Unit
(PEMANDU). At its head, he placed a former CEO of Malaysia Airlines
who was paid a very high salary that was not made public. In fact, Najib
brought in many supernumerary staff and placed them in all agencies of
the Prime Minister’s Department and paid them much higher salaries than
their civil service counterparts. For example, a director at PEMANDU had
a maximum salary of RM49,000 a month, an associate director could earn
 CAPTURING

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up to RM31,600 a month while a senior manager could expect RM21,000

a month. Not surprisingly, the financial allocation for the Prime Minister’s
Department ballooned—all to be paid for by the taxpayer—and the actual
civil servants were very unhappy. Many had been in service for decades
and had overseen the implementation of government policies that had
successfully turned the country from a primarily agricultural economy into
a middle-income industrial powerhouse. Now, they were being told that
their expertise and experience were no longer needed.

Perhaps all this would have been understandable, and even forgivable, had
the new advisers actually brought something valuable to the Government.
Instead, these advisers soon began to give Najib the wrong advice. For
example, they told him that the rejection of UMNO under the leadership
of Tun Abdullah in the 2008 General Election was due to Chinese dislike
of the New Economic Policy (NEP). To win them back, they said, Najib
should dismantle the affirmative action policies designed to assist the
Malays and instead design more plans in support of Chinese and Indian
Malaysians. As a result, Najib reduced places for Malays and other
Bumiputera in public universities. I will write about this in greater detail
in the pages to come, but for now let me just say that this was entirely
22 the wrong thing to do. Chinese Malaysians had never said they disliked
the NEP. Yes, there were a few who were dead-set against the policy,
but by and large they were protesting against what they saw were unfair
advantages and abuses of affirmative action to enrich a small segment of
society, rather than the principle and purpose of affirmative action itself.

And of course, Najib continued handing out money, literally, in the

form of cash assistance to those with household incomes of less than
RM3,000, among others. This was his Bantuan Rakyat 1Malaysia (BR1M,
or “1Malaysia People’s Assistance”) scheme. This was little more than a
personal bribe in return for political support. What many don’t know is
that there were organisations and corporations that benefited as well, and
the Government spent billions funding this despite economists and even
ordinary Malaysians pointing out that BR1M was akin to printing money
and would have a corresponding effect on inflation. But Najib paid no
heed. Instead, all these “1Malaysia” schemes seemed to be part of a very
grand, slick personal branding campaign to get Malaysians to love Najib.
They printed shiny banners with the text “I ♥ PM”, wrote songs called
“1M4U”—“I am for you”—claiming that it meant “1Malaysia for Youth”,
and issued special car number plates; and Najib’s people would organise
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

rallies of 10,000 or more people, with all transport, food and allowances
paid by the Government.

There were many aspects of Najib’s personal behaviour that led me to

question what I knew—or thought I knew—of the man. At first, I was
prepared to overlook them, but there were more and more things that
simply could not be explained in any satisfactory way. It seemed that all this
expenditure on handouts and rallies were an attempt to create a personality
cult, perhaps to draw attention away from the many controversies that were
surrounding Najib and his family. In any event, the whole “1Malaysia”
branding exercise came to naught, as the Barisan Nasional lost the
popular vote in the 2013 General Election, although it still won control of
Parliament. UMNO and its allied parties gained the support of only 47.38
per cent of voters while the Pakatan Rakyat parties took 50.87 per cent
of ballots cast. It was the first time in Malaysia’s political history that the
Barisan Nasional won less of the popular vote than the Opposition.

All this, however, was just the background. There has been some speculation
about how much I knew and when I knew it. For the most part, I ask that
you remember that I was a private citizen at the time who was out of favour
with the powers that be. Despite having been Prime Minister, I received 23
most of my news the same way everyone else did, via newspapers, the
internet and word of mouth.

1Malaysia Development Berhad

I first became aware of the seriousness of the 1MDB situation after
reading an article published on 17 February 2014 in The Edge newspaper,
which provided details of 1MDB’s debts. As I mentioned, there had been
rumours circulating for some time, but the figure published in The Edge—
over RM30 billion—was so large that I was immediately alarmed. I waited
for the Government to deny what was published. But it did not, and it
became clear that the debt was actually more—RM41.9 billion at the end
of March 2014. Something was very wrong.

1MDB started off in 2008 as the Terengganu Investment Authority. In

July 2009, just four months after Najib became Prime Minister, it was
taken over by the Minister of Finance Incorporated, and Najib became
Chairman of its Advisory Board. Officially, 1MDB was supposed to
be Malaysia’s sovereign wealth fund, and its purpose was to spearhead
 CAPTURING

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long-term economic development through foreign partnerships and by

increasing foreign direct investment. On paper, this was quite in keeping
with existing Government investment policy—but if you had scratched the
surface, you would have found something quite strange just beneath. For
example, while other countries set up sovereign wealth funds to make good
use of their government surpluses, 1MDB was financing its investment
operations with borrowed funds.

This was a crafty way of getting around the statutory limitations about
how much direct debt the Federal Government could contract. In normal
practice, the Malaysian Government is by law required to maintain its debt
at a reasonable percentage of Gross Domestic Product (GDP). The first
limit—40 per cent of GDP—was set in 2003. Under Najib, this percentage
rose to 55 per cent over the short space of 2009 to 2017 (the Government
of Tan Sri Muhyiddin Yassin, which came to power in March 2020,
raised it yet again to 60 per cent). I emphasise that this is a legal limit—
the Government may not incur more debt than this without authority of
Parliament. But what if it’s not the Government that takes on this debt but
a government-owned company that has no legal obligation to report to
Parliament? What if there is no explicit limit to the Government’s ability
24 to guarantee the loans of such a company?

The Government invested a mere RM1 million in 1MDB when it was set
up. According to known records, 1MDB then borrowed around RM42
billion ringgit from a wide variety of sources. How does a company with
a paid-up capital of RM1 million borrow 42,000 times its own value with
no collateral? The only answer is: government guarantees. It was the
Government of Malaysia that bore the risk of the loans—if 1MDB lost
money, the Government would bear the loss. But the operation of 1MDB
was not overseen by Government officers responsible for the management
of Government funds. There was absolutely no public accountability.

1MDB then proceeded to raise cash through bonds underwritten by

Goldman Sachs, a US-based multinational investment bank and financial
services company. The cost of these bonds was well above the usual for
Malaysian Government borrowings—the interest rate of 5.9 per cent was
much too high, as Malaysian Government bonds paid only four per cent or
less, and PETRONAS bonds paid even less at 3.6 per cent. Furthermore,
Goldman Sachs took a 10 per cent commission, which meant that 1MDB
received only 90 per cent of the money borrowed but had to pay interest
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

on 100 per cent. This raised the effective interest rate to 6.6 per cent.
Averaging at six per cent, the yearly interest on RM42 billion was around
RM2.5 billion, and yet, since 2009, 1MDB received no income from any
of the assets it purchased or the investments it made. The result was that
1MDB had to borrow a further RM2 billion per annum just to pay the
interest on its debts.

How was the RM42 billion used? The details remained sketchy for a long
time. 1MDB’s financial situation had presumably been made known to the
Cabinet, but the public did not have a complete picture because Cabinet
papers are secret. In April 2015, I summarised what I knew about 1MDB’s
financial situation on my blog. The fund made six major purchases. First
was Tanjong Energy (now known as Powertek Energy Sdn Bhd) from Tan
Sri T. Ananda Krishnan for RM8.5 billion. This was higher than market
price, and the company’s operating licence was about to expire. Next
was Genting Sanyen Power (now known as Kuala Langat Power Plant)
for RM2.3 billion. Again, this was well above market price, and again, its
licence was about to expire. Next was the acquisition of Jimah Energy for
RM1.2 billion, and then there were three property purchases: seventeen
acres of Government land along Jalan Tun Razak, Kuala Lumpur, for
RM320 million; 495 acres of Government land in what was the old Sungai 25
Besi airport in Kuala Lumpur (now known as Bandar Malaysia) for about
RM363.5 million, and 234 acres in Air Itam, Penang, for RM1.38 billion.

There were question marks about the property purchases: the land on Jalan
Tun Razak was situated close to some private land that had previously
been sold at the market rate of RM7,000 per square foot (psf). Let’s assume
the market price for the 1MDB purchase was a more modest RM3,000
psf—if so, then the true value of the land (which would go on to be the site
of the Tun Razak Exchange) was already RM6 billion. Now, 1MDB paid
only RM320 million, meaning that the Government therefore lost more
than RM5 billion even at that modest calculation. To buy the Sungai Besi
Airport land, 1MDB paid RM91 psf, although the real market price would
have been in the region of RM1,000 psf—here, the Government would
have lost approximately RM20 billion in the sale to 1MDB. On the other
hand, the land in Penang was of poor quality and had more than 1,000
squatter households situated on it—and yet 1MDB paid RM1.3 billion for
it—that is, RM135 psf—which did not make any financial sense.
 CAPTURING

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These were all the purchases that were known at the time, and they added
up to RM14.7 billion. Of the remaining RM27 billion, 1MDB apparently
invested more than USD1 billion (RM3.8 billion) in a joint-venture deal
with PetroSaudi Holdings (Cayman) Ltd in September 2009 despite lacking
verification as to the value of this company or its assets, as well as any
contractual measures to safeguard 1MDB’s interests. Also, 1MDB took on
USD700 million in debt immediately on signing the joint venture, as the
joint venture apparently had to repay that sum to PetroSaudi Holdings.
However, USD700 million was transferred to a company called Good Star
Ltd, incorporated in Seychelles, which was under the control of Najib’s
friend Low Taek Jho (better known as Jho Low). Now, in March 2010—
around just six months of setting up the joint venture—1MDB disposed of
its entire 40 per cent stake in the enterprise. The USD1 billion should have
been returned to 1MDB—but no, it was converted into Murabahah notes
(i.e., a kind of loan in Islamic financing) to PetroSaudi. This was extremely
irregular. If you could not work with PetroSaudi as a joint-venture partner,
how could you then justify advancing it a loan for such a large sum?

This is as far as public authorities were able to trace the money. After this
point, it seems to have disappeared as it was moved from one corporate
26 entity to another. In June 2012, 1MDB redeemed the Murabahah notes
via an asset-swap, which gave it a 49 per cent equity stake in PetroSaudi
Oil Services Ltd (PSOSL). According to the Malaysian Auditor-General’s
report (completed in March 2015 but classified as an official secret by
the Najib Government), this swap was again done without any attempt
to identify PSOSL’s liabilities, its ability to generate an income, or even
its past financial performance. Within weeks, there was yet more complex
financial shuffling, some of which included the 1MDB subsidiary known
as SRC International Sdn Bhd. Then the money was reported to have
been deposited in banks in Hong Kong and Seychelles, invested in various
entities before ending up in the Cayman Islands.

Concerned Malaysians demanded that the money be returned to Malaysia.

1MDB announced that a portion had been repatriated but had been used
to pay debts and other expenses. Malaysians wanted more information,
especially when the RM2 billion interest on 1MDB’s debts reportedly
could not be paid. It was clear that 1MDB had no money, so where was
the money from the Caymans? Ananda Krishnan then offered RM2 billion
to help pay the interest charges—but why? And on what basis did the
Government provide 1MDB with a standby loan of RM900 million?
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

The Auditor-General’s report, which was not released to the public until
after the Barisan Nasional was defeated in the 2018 General Election, made
for depressing reading. It detailed many instances in which the 1MDB
management acted without properly informing, or obtaining approval
from, its own board of directors. The Auditor-General also identified
many occasions where the management acted in direct contravention of
the board’s instructions. Institutions lending money to 1MDB had also
been misled—in several cases, funds borrowed to finance one investment
were in fact used for completely different purposes. Also, incomplete
documentation meant that the Auditor-General could not verify whether
or not payments had actually been made. This did not prove that corruption
had occurred, but it was enough to raise troubling questions about the
possibility of embezzlement.

Even without the information revealed in the Auditor-General’s report,

things did not look right. 1MDB had announced that all the money from
the Cayman Islands had been received in cash. Arul Kanda Kandasamy,
who took over as Chief Executive of 1MDB in January 2015, confirmed
that this was true. Najib, however, said it was deposited in a bank in
Singapore—apparently, it had not been brought back to Malaysia because
Bank Negara—the central bank—would ask too many questions. Why 27
would this be the case if there was nothing to hide? Why, for that matter,
would our country’s very own sovereign wealth fund (as it claimed to be)
desire to hide anything from the central bank?

Singapore is a major financial centre. As such, it has always been very

careful to investigate money brought in and deposited in its banks,
especially if the sum is large, running into billions. Indeed, the Monetary
Authority of Singapore stated publicly that no 1MDB Malaysian money
had come into the country. So where was the money that 1MDB claimed
it had brought back from the Caymans? Arul had openly stated that he saw
the money, but then it turned out that it was not “money”—rather, it was
“units”. What units were these? No explanation was forthcoming.

Amid these claims and denials, it was clear that 1MDB was not getting any
returns on its investments. Not only was it losing money, the Government
lost around RM25 billion as well when 1MDB paid only RM683 million
for the land on Jalan Tun Razak and the Sungai Besi Airport. 1MDB was
able to revalue all its assets, assessing them at RM52 billion, only because
it purchased government land at far below market price. However, it could
 CAPTURING

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use this paper profit to repay loans only if it succeeded in selling the land
before or after developing it. Here was the problem: progress on the Tun
Razak Exchange project was very slow, and no work at all was being done
at the Sungai Besi Airport site.

At this stage of the proceedings, it was already abundantly clear to me that

Najib was not fit to serve as Prime Minister of Malaysia. But more proof
was to come quite soon.

The USD700 million “donation”

On 2 July 2015, The Wall Street Journal published an astonishing article
alleging that around USD700 million had mysteriously appeared in Najib’s
personal bank account. Almost a week later, the newspaper followed this
up by publishing partially censored documents suggesting that the money
had come from 1MDB. These documents referred to transactions that
took place in March 2013, December 2014 and February 2015. The paper
even cited the relevant bank account number. That a sitting Prime Minister
should be the subject of such news was utterly scandalous and shameful.
28
Amid widespread calls for his resignation, Najib threatened to sue
the newspaper for libel—but eventually did nothing. However, the
Government took action against a local financial paper—The Edge—which
had been running stories on 1MDB from the beginning. On 24 July, the
Home Affairs Ministry suspended its publishing licence for three months.
According to the Government, the newspaper’s coverage of 1MDB had
threatened national security and public order. Furthermore, the owner of
another local financial paper, The Malaysian Reserve, was told to sell the
paper back to its previous owner.

However, not all in the Government were prepared to comply. The

seriousness of the allegations against Najib prompted four agency heads
to form an investigating task force. This task force consisted of Attorney-
General Tan Sri Abdul Gani Patail, Inspector-General of Police Tan Sri
Khalid Abu Bakar, Governor of Bank Negara Tan Sri Zeti Akhtar Aziz,
and the head of the Malaysian Anti-Corruption Commission (MACC) Tan
Sri Abu Kassim Mohamed. The task force was to collect all the relevant
evidence, and the Attorney-General would decide on the appropriate action
to be taken. These agencies were in the midst of their investigations when
the Prime Minister struck back. On 28 July 2015, Najib, acting through the
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Chief Secretary to the Government, Tan Sri Ali Hamsa, sacked Attorney-
General Gani and appointed a loyalist to the post. This effectively
paralysed the task force. Next, he effectively disbanded the Parliamentary
Public Accounts Committee by promoting the Chairman and three other
members as Deputy Ministers and assigning them to other posts. Abu
Kassim of the MACC was put on leave and was eventually forced out,
and his officers who continued to investigate the case were harassed by the
police who accused them of leaking Government secrets. Two officers were
subsequently transferred to the Prime Minister’s Office. On the same day
that Najib sacked the Attorney-General, he also dismissed Deputy Prime
Minister Tan Sri Muhyiddin Yassin. Other Ministers who had been vocal
in questioning the financial records of 1MDB and the USD700 million
found in Najib’s personal bank account also lost their jobs.

Rumours were rife that Bank Negara Governor Zeti was also being
investigated for corruption.2 Although she remained in her post, the staff
of the central bank were harassed and accused of leaking information to
the Press. The Governor was clearly under pressure. Years later (in July
2018 after Najib was finally arrested by anti-corruption officials), Zeti told
the media that she was called to the Prime Minister’s Office in Putrajaya
on 3 July 2015 and urged to issue a statement that Najib had done nothing 29
wrong by having such a huge sum in his personal account. She refused to
comply, saying that she could not issue any such statement because she
did not have any knowledge of the transactions that had occurred in his
account. That made sense. Bank Negara was totally dependent upon the
willingness of local banks to follow regulations, obliging them to report
any unusual or suspicious transactions.

With this crackdown, the Prime Minister effectively stopped investigations

into the disappearance of the billions of ringgit invested by 1MDB and the
appearance of USD700 million in his personal account. All this meant that
no legal action could be taken against Najib as the allegations could not
be proven. But his very actions to prevent investigations strongly suggested
that there was substance to the allegations.

However, while he could exert influence over Malaysian government

agencies, Najib had no control over the foreign Press, which began

2
As at April 2021, there have been allegations that members of Zeti’s family may
have been involved with 1MDB. This was unknown to me at the time—and indeed
subsequently when the Pakatan Harapan formed the Government and I
appointed her to the Council of Eminent Persons.
 CAPTURING

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suggesting that the Prime Minister had acted just in time to save his own
skin. According to a report on the Australian Broadcasting Corporation’s
Four Corners programme, Attorney-General Gani was planning to confront
Najib at a Cabinet meeting scheduled on 29 July, and charge him with
criminal misappropriation. Days later, The Sarawak Report, an independent
news website, published photos of what it said were the charges Gani
planned to lay against Najib. The document alleged that Najib had received
RM27 million in bribes.

In early August, the MACC stated that the USD700 million banked into
Najib’s personal account had come from “donors”, not 1MDB. It did not
say who the donors were or why the funds were donated. Later, Wan Adnan
Wan Mamat—the Chairman of UMNO’s Kuantan division—claimed
that the donation was made by Saudi Arabia in appreciation of Malaysia’s
fight against Daesh, which was also known as the Islamic State of Iraq
and Syria (ISIS). These “explanations” did not make sense. Surely no one
could believe that such a huge sum was a mere “donation”. Arabs might
be generous, but they aren’t that generous. I could not raise even a single
dollar from them in contributions to the establishment of the International
Islamic University Malaysia or for the Oxford Islamic Centre. Explaining
30 that it was a gift in recognition of Malaysia’s stand against Daesh was
absurd. Daesh gained global prominence in early 2014 when it drove Iraqi
government forces out of key cities. But the money began to be transferred
as early as March 2013. Saying that it was in recognition of Malaysia’s
adoption of a “moderate Islamic position” was equally absurd—Malaysia
has never been extreme in its practice of religion.

And why USD700 million? Surely it was too much to run an election
campaign, unless it was needed to bribe the Malaysian electorate. Why
would such a bribe be necessary? Malaysians had supported the Barisan
Nasional before without the need to be paid huge bribes by anyone, least
of all foreigners. I needed less than RM10 million for each of the five
elections in my first government as Prime Minister. I won them all, gaining
more than a two-thirds parliamentary majority each time.

Datuk Seri Dr Ahmad Zahid Hamidi, who succeeded Muhyiddin as

Deputy Prime Minister, then said he had actually met the Arab whose
family donated the money. He said he had also met the investment officer
of the Arab family, who had explained how the first USD100 million was
transferred via a cheque in Najib’s name, with the rest coming through
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

other channels. “I saw the documents myself—the original documents, not

photostatted ones, and I also saw the money trail,” Dr Zahid said. The
Deputy Prime Minister also insisted that the donation was 100 per cent
from the Arab family and not from 1MDB.

If this was so, then why not share the evidence with the public? Large sums
of money cannot be moved without documentation. What was the name
of the bank the wealthy Arabs used? Where were the physical cheques
they issued, particularly the first USD100 million as claimed by Dr Zahid?
The recipient bank would surely have it in its possession. All the relevant
documents could easily have been tracked down and verified. Banks must
maintain secrecy, but they are also required by law to report suspected
money laundering. Najib pre-empted all this by sacking Attorney-General
Gani, sending the head of MACC on leave, and accusing Bank Negara of
leaking state secrets. In December 2015, The Wall Street Journal reported
that Najib had told senior Government leaders that the money had been
used to help the Barisan Nasional win the 2013 General Election.

Few believed this. It meant that elections were being tampered with by a
foreign power, and that the candidate for the highest office in the country
could well be the paid agent of that power. 31

Najib’s denials
Najib attempted to deny the allegations about 1MDB, the huge amounts
paid into his personal bank account, as well as other major issues raised
by critics at the time. He would say that all the necessary information
had already been released or that the public should “wait”. Then came
the testimony of a former bodyguard of Najib, who was convicted of the
2006 murder of 28-year-old translator Altantuya Shaariibuu. Rumours
about Najib’s involvement had been circulating for a long time, and now,
the bodyguard was attempting to implicate him directly in the crime—but
Najib’s only response was to refuse to comment further, saying only that it
was an old case. The issue was an important one. Allegations had simmered
for eight years that the young translator from Mongolia was murdered to
keep her quiet about alleged bribes paid to senior Malaysian officials in
the course of a USD2 billion purchase of two French and Spanish-built
submarines when Najib was Minister of Defence. But for Najib, it was
apparently enough that two people had been tried and convicted of the
crime, never mind that the motive for the murder was never established.
 CAPTURING

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In September 2015, when Al-Jazeera, a state-funded broadcaster in Doha

(Qatar) aired a half-hour documentary on the murder, Najib claimed that
the television station was trying to subvert his Government. “The Prime
Minister did not know, has never met, has never had any communication
with, and has no link whatsoever with, the deceased,” the Government
said in the statement. But if there was no truth to the allegations made
during the programme, he should have sued the station for defamation.
He did not.

On the subject of 1MDB, Najib offered a similar response: wait until the
Auditor-General releases his report. But that could take years and was
unlikely to reveal much. It would not explain, for example, the involvement
of Jho Low, the mysterious businessman who had been associated with
many dubious high-value transactions involving the loss-making “wealth
fund”. It was also unlikely to explain how Riza Shahriz Abdul Aziz, the
film producer and son of Najib’s wife Datin Seri Rosmah Mansor from
an earlier marriage, had so much money at a time when 1MDB money
disappeared. It would certainly not explain the strange transactions
involving PetroSaudi, or the banks in Seychelles, Hong Kong and the
Cayman Islands.
32
Telling people not to ask any questions until the Auditor-General released
his report was silly. It was like seeing someone robbing a house or bank and
insisting that the public wait until the court hearing was over before talking
about it. The best thing to do under the circumstances would have been to
set up a Royal Commission, the members of which should not be chosen
by the Government. Having an independent Commission was important
because it would have the freedom and responsibility of investigating not
just 1MDB but also the Government, which had clearly failed to oversee
the affairs of the company in any adequate way.

It was not long before my criticisms of Najib began to produce a

backlash from his supporters. In 2015, I found myself having to address
misleading statements about my government as Prime Minister. One of
the most prominent among those promoting such ideas was Tunku Abdul
Aziz Tunku Ibrahim. Tunku Abdul Aziz was a Malaysian member of
Transparency International and a former DAP Senator representing
Penang, who had turned against his old political comrades. On 4 May
2015, he wrote an article in the UMNO-controlled English daily, the New
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Straits Times, attempting to blame me for the financial troubles faced by

Bank Bumiputra in the 1980s.

“We will, in our current climate of openness, get a lot faster to the bottom
of 1MDB’s shortcomings, if indeed there are problems, than we got out of
the investigations into financial and other excesses during the lost ethical
years when Dr Mahathir was Prime Minister,” Tunku Abdul Aziz wrote
in his article. “Soon after Dr Mahathir took over the reins of Government,
a horrendous financial scandal engulfed Bank Bumiputra Berhad,
incorporated in 1978 as the vehicle to launch the Malays into business.”
The losses took place after the bank had shifted large sums to its wholly
owned subsidiary, Bumiputra Malaysia Finance Limited (BMF). BMF, in
turn, lent most of it to two companies. One of them—the Carrian Group
of Hong Kong—later went bankrupt and “billions disappeared into thin
air”, said Tunku Abdul Aziz.

What he did not say was that I was never involved in the day-to-day running
of the bank nor had I been an adviser of any kind (unlike Najib, who
was Chairman of 1MDB’s Advisory Board). I personally did not cause
anyone to lose money. I was not even Prime Minister when the scandal
began. Transparency International itself seemed to have doubts about 33
the claims. Not long after Tunku Abdul Aziz made his allegations about
the “outrageously questionable ventures” involving BMF, the corruption
watchdog issued a statement distancing itself from his statements. It
stressed that Tunku Abdul Aziz was no longer a member of Transparency
International and that his views were made “of his own accord” and did
not reflect the organisation’s stance.

At the time he made his allegations, Tunku Abdul Aziz was the Chairman
of the Advisory Board of the MACC. I therefore asked him to investigate
me for misappropriating federal funds on any occasion during my 22
years as Prime Minister. I also asked him to apologise if no such evidence
could be found. Perhaps Tunku Abdul Aziz was suffering from selective
awareness of what was really going on around him. “As someone who
professes to be concerned about corruption, shouldn’t he ask how Jho Low
and Riza Aziz could have hundreds of millions of dollars?” I asked on my
blog. “Shouldn’t he (also) be interested in public servants who are living
well beyond their means?”
 CAPTURING

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It didn’t end here, of course. I was also attacked for allegedly using my
position as Prime Minister to help my sons in their respective businesses.
Somehow, the critics conveniently forgot that my eldest son, Mirzan, did
most of his business outside Malaysia where I have no influence at all.
He was also forced to sell his shipping business to PETRONAS during
the 1998 financial crisis when I was Prime Minister. As for my second
son, Mokhzani, he only began his steel fabrication business after I stepped
down as Prime Minister. Besides, nobody’s money disappeared as a result
of either of their business activities. And as Prime Minister, I did not raise
loans in order to help them.

Personal attacks are quite the norm for a politician, and you get used to it
after a while. What was happening in Malaysia, however, was completely
unprecedented. The rule of law was being turned upside down, and the
people seemed powerless to do anything about it. Najib’s claim that the
USD700 million in his personal bank account had been used for the
elections was at most half-true. He had always said that “cash is king”, and
with the huge funds at his disposal he was in a position to bribe his way to
victory. He could even use the money to rig the entire election. Under these
circumstances, democracy in Malaysia would be dead. It would have died
34 because an elected leader chose to subvert the institutions of Government
and use them as instruments for keeping himself in power. Clearly, it was
the duty of every Malaysian of conscience to get up and do something
about it.

It was also my personal duty to do something about it.

 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Chapter 3
Blogging, Bersih, Bersatu

In the case of Datuk Seri Najib Razak and 1MDB, I felt it was imperative
to raise public awareness of the wrongdoings which were taking place. But
how was this to be done? When I was Prime Minister the first time, the
Press would always make room to record my views. This was natural as I
was the leader of the Government.

When I retired, I was initially accorded the regard due to my previous

office, but all this changed in the course of the administration of my
successor Tun Abdullah Ahmad Badawi. My former party, the United
Malays National Organisation (UMNO), had turned into a party of
sycophants, and contentious issues would be swept under the carpet if the
Prime Minister willed it. Before long, it changed so much that it was no
longer the party that I had joined in my youth and stood for, for most of my
life. I could barely recognise it, and in May 2008 I resigned as a member of
nearly 60 years’ standing.

I tell the story fully in the final chapter of A Doctor in the House—but what 35
I didn’t anticipate was being forced out of the media altogether by the
powers that be. I suddenly found that nothing I said would appear in the
mainstream Press. I had wanted to give my opinion on Tun Abdullah,
especially his son-in-law Khairy Jamaluddin Abu Bakar and his group,
whose doings were questionable. For example, there were incidences of
Khairy owning shares in a company that had been paid for by someone
else, and I had been told that members of Tun Abdullah’s family actually
encroached into Government committee meetings. I had also heard about
various happenings in the northeastern peninsular state of Terengganu,
where they were building all kinds of things with the state’s Wang Ehsan,
as I mentioned in Chapter 1. All these things were bad things.

I had to do something. Not many people are willing to stick out their
necks to be chopped—if you go into politics, you’ll be hammered and your
business will be undermined. I’ve been in politics almost all my life, and
people came to see me and to ask me to do something. I would of course
be sticking my neck out, but they were very persuasive. On the other hand,
I felt that what they were asking me to do was what I already wanted to do
because things had become quite bad. I was no longer a member of UMNO
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and, because of what was happening, I felt compelled to campaign against

the party. But how was I to air my views if the media had been instructed
to censor me? They were even given directions that senior editors who were
“pro-Mahathir” had to be removed or else the entire media agency would
lose its licence to operate.

So I turned to the internet, which is very difficult to censor. I discussed the

idea with some of my staff who introduced me to it. I’m not very good at
these things, but I thought that since there was an opening for me to air
my views through the internet then I should at least try it. I wrote my first
blog post on the Judicial Appointments Commission, which was then a
very new idea put forward by Tun Abdullah. I posted it on 1 May 2008
at 1.27am in the middle of the night—sometimes ideas come to you at
odd times—and within 24 hours my blog received 10,000 visitors. I was
amazed. It was fantastic. I knew at once that this was a good platform to
beat the restrictions placed on the mainstream media.

As I write this, more than 32 million people have visited my blog, so it’s still
a good medium for me to communicate. Certainly, some interactions are
not very nice. Some visitors have told me: “You are already 95 years old.
36 Please stop lah. Just stop.” But that’s okay. They are allowed to say what
they want. If you put across your views in public, you must be prepared
for public criticism. I had all kinds of criticisms levelled at me when I was
Prime Minister the first time around. Back then, I thought that it didn’t
matter what the critics said—it was what the voters said that was important.
I won every election with a two-thirds majority. So, the criticisms really did
not seem to impress the electorate.

Now we have even more freedom, and I expect that whatever I say will be
met with a lot of opposition. We also have cybertroopers in the employ of
people who have the money to hire troops of people to spin things on the
internet. Some of these are actually directed at me, and whatever I say,
even if it is a very simple thing, will be met with comments like “You’re
too old. Better retire!” By and large, we can ignore these, but if I read
something that is wrong or unfair—such as comments involving members
of my family—then I really feel that I need to correct the wrong impression.

One of the persistent criticisms that have been levelled at me over the
years is that I was a dictator and that I stifled freedom of speech. Then,
as now, I stood for the law, and in this digital age there seems to be some
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

confusion as to where obligations end and freedoms begin. At the launch

of the expanded Facebook office in Kuala Lumpur in 2019, I said that
the rule of thumb was simple: what was illegal offline was almost always
illegal online, and freedom of speech was not a licence to abuse others,
but a responsibility. Freedom of speech without concern for good human
behaviour would be a disaster for any society.

I believe the purpose of reaching out to the public goes far beyond just
exercising your freedom of speech, airing your personal views or righting
erroneous perceptions. Politicians and national leaders have a duty to
debate and explain important public issues because the majority of
ordinary folk aren’t able to see very far ahead into the future. Most see just
the present because they have to deal with the concerns of their immediate
surroundings. But having been in politics for over 80 years, I can see trends
and I can deduce what will happen in the future more accurately than most
other people who may simply be guessing.

I rely on my own observations from my long years in politics, and from that
I must say that politicians and leaders have no excuse for not engaging the
public on digital platforms. Today, we have blogs, Twitter, social media—
all kinds of new ways of reaching people everywhere. In the old days, what 37
you wanted to say had to go through a broadcasting station or a newspaper,
and the people there would vet it. Today, you have that broadcasting station
literally in your pocket and you can talk to the whole world with it. I can
make a speech any time and reach every Malaysian in the country as well
as people abroad. This is a very, very powerful tool.

Much later, when we campaigned for the general election in 2018, for
example, we used Facebook Live to broadcast our ceramah (public speeches,
often during political rallies). Not only did we have huge audiences at the
rallies themselves, we were reaching tens and even hundreds of thousands
of viewers online. Our announcements on Twitter and Facebook were
more effective than traditional outreach, and as part of the campaign, we
made a YouTube video of me talking to two young children about the state
of Malaysia. That video gained almost 1.5 million views. It’s amazing.

That said, social media engagement was just one part of the big picture—
albeit a very important one. The crises affecting Malaysia as a result of
1MDB and Najib’s mismanagement of the Government called for a more
old-fashioned political response—one that I understood very well, even
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if from a different side of the divide. In 2015, at the age of 90, I took my
protest to the streets of Kuala Lumpur.

From Bersih to Bersatu

Bersih is the Malay word for “clean”. In 2006 it became the name of a
movement—the Coalition for Clean and Fair Elections. In its early days,
Bersih was very much a movement consisting of the Federal Opposition
politicians from Parti Keadilan Rakyat (PKR), the Democratic Action
Party (DAP), Parti Islam Se-Malaysia (PAS) and Parti Sosialis Malaysia,
as well as representatives from civic organisations such as Suara Rakyat
Malaysia (Suaram), the Women’s Development Collective, and others.

Bersih staged three major public rallies in Kuala Lumpur—in 2007, 2011,
and 2012—and the Barisan Nasional Government under Tun Abdullah
and Najib came down hard on them, with police firing tear gas and water
cannons to disperse protesters, with hundreds of arrests. Regardless of
who started what, I got the impression that the Bersih demonstrations were
prone to violence. However, my perception started to change ahead of the
rally in 2015. I had always felt that political demonstrations should not be a
38
way of life for us but when the people have no choice, one may have to take
to the streets. We must not forget that in 1946 the rakyat and their leaders
publicly demonstrated against the Malayan Union agreements and caused
them to be abrogated. Where would Malaysians be today if there had been
no demonstrations back then?

So, I joined the Bersih rally in 2015—called Bersih 4.0, which took place
on 29–30 August—because it was clearly the most effective platform
on which ordinary Malaysians could voice their feelings and concerns
about national affairs. I had anticipated the usual trouble with the police
against protesters, but when I walked the streets of KL at Bersih 4.0, I
found the situation to be very calm. The protesters didn’t spark chaos and
in fact they even picked up rubbish after themselves. Nobody—leaders or
participants—showed any tendency towards violence. It changed my view
of rallies completely.

The 2015 rally was held at the intersection of Dataran Merdeka and the
Kuala Lumpur City Hall. When I arrived unannounced with my wife
Hasmah at about 7.30pm on the Saturday evening, some protesters came
to meet us. They shook my hand and took photographs with us. There
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

was also rousing applause and cheers of “Hidup Tun” (“Long live Tun”). I
joined the demonstrators again the following day. Naturally, many people
asked, how could I support the electoral reform group when I had been
against it, especially as Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim’s PKR and the Chinese-
based DAP were among the participants? What about my distaste for street
protests? After all, I had always argued that such actions had a negative
effect on business. Street demonstrations also posed public security threats.
Surely it was better to make a police report, and leave the police and the
public prosecutor to take action. Had I changed my stand on this as well?

The sad reality was that reporting corruption and abuse of power to the
police was no longer likely to produce results. Under Najib, the police
would not take action on accusations made against him. The national debt
was climbing, and the value of the ringgit had fallen while the cost of
living skyrocketed partly as a result of the implementation of the Goods
and Services Tax (GST) earlier in 2015. The GST was a major problem. A
consumption tax, it was intended to replace the more narrowly based Sales
and Service Tax (SST), which had been in effect in various forms since the
1980s. Najib had wanted to introduce the GST as early as 2011, but had
been forced to delay it amid widespread criticism about its effect on low-
income Malaysians. Finally, the GST was included in the 2015 Budget, and 39
set to be implemented at a rate of six per cent beginning on 1 April 2015.

The Government said that the GST was necessary to reduce its dependence
on revenue from PETRONAS, and promised that some of the money would
be channelled back to the poor through increased cash handouts. It was a
move that looked suspiciously like yet another attempt at vote-buying. In
truth, even the government agencies responsible for collecting the GST did
not understand how it was supposed to work. It was such a complicated
system, involving a long list of exempted and zero-rated goods and
services, that there were bound to be problems, with some business sectors
lobbying for better treatment. Inevitably, there was a deluge of complaints
by various consumer groups about irresponsible businessmen attempting
to profit from the confusion about which goods were GST-exempt, and
officials were inundated by inquiries from consumers and traders who were
confused about how the tax would be implemented.

Street demonstrations were the only way of highlighting these concerns. To

be honest, I was not really concerned about the other demands of the rally
organisers. As I told reporters who met me while I was making my way
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around a downtown market in Kuala Lumpur earlier that day, I just wanted
Najib to step down. It was not a case of agreeing with all that Bersih 4.0
was demanding. “We are here because all of us, whether Malay, Chinese or
Indian or Iban or Kadazan, cannot accept the leadership, the premiership of
Najib,” I told the media. “Why is that so? It is because he has undermined
the legal system of this country. He has dismantled the institutions of
government which have been entrusted to investigate all crimes.”

A few weeks after the rally, the police announced that I would be called
in for questioning along with several others who had attended the
demonstration. I was not quite sure why the police (in other words, the
Government) wanted to question me. Had I committed a crime? Or did
they want some information from me so they could prosecute others? I
had been interviewed by the police and the Attorney-General’s Chambers
before. At the time, they had wanted to make me a government witness. I
listened to them and concluded that there was no case for me to answer.
This time, however, it was not about making me a witness. They wanted
answers to questions about my participation in the demonstration. My
lawyers advised me not to answer most of them. So, I didn’t. If they
believed I had done anything wrong, they could charge me in court and I
40 would answer their questions there.

Thinking it over afterwards, I concluded that they were trying to make it

appear that what I did or said in public was some kind of criminal act.
Although no one said I would be charged, there was just a hint that I might
be. Afterwards, I re-examined the questions posed by the police and I could
not see how what I had done or said could be against any law. It was true
that I had attended a rally that had not been permitted by the police. But
there were more than 100,000 people at that rally. If this was wrong, then
the 100,000 other people at that rally should also be questioned. After all,
the law must apply to everyone equally.

What was wrong with demanding that Najib be removed as Prime

Minister? Supporting a parliamentary vote of no confidence in Najib’s
leadership was not wrong either, except of course, in a dictatorship. What
would have been wrong is if I had resorted to violence or incited civil war
or revolution. The official reason given by the Inspector-General of Police,
Tan Sri Khalid Abu Bakar, for the interrogation was that I had accused
Government MPs of taking bribes, and they wanted more information.
But from the questions the police actually asked it seemed as if Najib was
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

trying to make out that asking him to resign was undemocratic and
against the law. In other words, they wanted to make the legitimate
seem illegitimate.

On 7 November 2016, I wrote on my blog that if it was wrong for a former

leader to participate in demonstrations, then I supposed it was right for
the current leader to be a kleptocrat, having been accused of stealing
billions of ringgit from the Government. This was just before the next
Bersih rally—Bersih 5.0—which took place on 19 November, and I was
encouraging people to take part. Malaysia was in distress, and we needed
to express our dissatisfaction with the Government. I was hoping that all
Malaysians would join the rally to find a way to heal our country and
change the Government, so that it would be no longer led by someone who
was alleged to have misappropriated so much money.

It was so clear that people were every bit as passionate about what they
were fighting for wherever they were, on the streets, in cafés, even those at
home, and even those abroad, who held their own Bersih rallies wherever
they were—the UK, Australia, New Zealand, and even in China. It was
incredibly encouraging to see so much passion, so much national spirit.
But like in 1946 when the people made their stand on the Malayan 41
Union, street protests were just the beginning of the journey. The rakyat is
powerful, but in order for this power to be truly made manifest, we needed
political representation and a new party to give ourselves the platform to
make that happen.

On 8 September 2016, I became a founding member of a new party called

Parti Pribumi Bersatu Malaysia (Bersatu). Its establishment was officially
approved by the Registrar of Societies, and this was important to me
personally as it marked my return to active politics after years of trying
to persuade others already in politics to remove a Prime Minister who
was doing serious damage to the country. As everyone now knows, my
association with Bersatu was the beginning of a journey that eventually
led to the downfall of Najib, UMNO and the Barisan Nasional coalition
in the May 2018 General Election. It also resulted in my becoming Prime
Minister of Malaysia for the second time.

We officially launched the party on 15 January 2017 at the 10,000-seat

Stadium Malawati in Shah Alam, not far from Kuala Lumpur. The stadium
was packed, and in my speech, I made a series of promises to the people in
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the event that Bersatu was successful in the coming election. One of these
promises was to abolish Najib’s unpopular Goods and Services Tax, which
had been blamed for the seemingly uncontrollable rise in the cost of living
since it came into force in 2015.

I also promised that Bersatu would undertake measures to improve the

country’s finances, with special reference to the huge loans taken by Najib
and the weakening ringgit. By then Najib’s Government had been labelled
a kleptocracy—a government of thieves. At the time, we had only a vague
idea of the amount borrowed and lost. After we took over the Government,
we were horrified to find that the loans Najib took had exceeded one trillion
ringgit. Huge contracts had been awarded to foreign companies without
due diligence. Much of the money borrowed was not even invested. It was
simply lost.

I promised that, once in power, Bersatu would ensure that the essence
of democracy would be returned to Malaysia. We would enforce the
separation of powers among the legislative, the executive and the judicial
branches of the Government. The office of the public prosecutor (as
represented by the Attorney-General) would be separated from the
42 government legal service headed by the Solicitor-General. We would
ensure that the Attorney-General could not arbitrarily “pass judgment” on
reports made by the police, except when those reports were vexatious and
irrelevant—and even then, the Attorney-General would have to state the
reasons to the public and not just say there was simply “no case to answer”.
The Attorney-General would not be permitted to hide the reports under
the Official Secrets Act!

Any allegation of corruption would be investigated and the report made

public. All Malaysian officials had to live within their means and be seen
to do so. This included all members of the Cabinet. Foreign observers
would be permitted to oversee our political elections and would be
granted full access to the campaign operations of both Government and
Opposition parties. The Malaysian Anti-Corruption Commission would
include representatives from outside the Government, and all government
transactions would be transparent and accounted for. Government
borrowings in particular would not be allowed to exceed ceilings fixed
by Parliament, and government loan guarantees would be regarded as
government borrowings.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

As I spelt out these commitments, it struck me that these were basic

guarantees of good governance. How had we, a successful nation with a
liberal and progressive economy, fallen so far that these promises could
resonate so deeply with so many people? For more than two decades, I had
led UMNO, the Barisan Nasional and the very Government I was now
fighting against. I knew most of Najib’s generation since they were young
members of the party. What had happened?

“It doesn’t matter if he’s a thief—as long as he’s Malay”

UMNO is a Malay party and for most of its existence it has been inextricably
bound to the nation and the fate of its majority community—the Malays.
It once stood for very noble goals such as uplifting the economic and social
status of the Malay community without neglecting to provide a safe and
secure haven for others who had come to call Malaysia their home. UMNO
raised the standard against the Malayan Union, and led the Malayan people
as a whole towards independence from the UK. For the Malay community,
UMNO was almost a father figure to several generations of people. It
looked after the welfare and well-being of Malays, and UMNO leaders
saw this as something of a sacred duty. But Najib forgot his duties—to the
43
Malays, to the country, and to all Malaysians. He was enjoying himself as
much as he could, having fun in the Mediterranean with friends, shopping
with his wife Datin Seri Rosmah Mansor while paying scant attention to
anything but his own interests.

The Malays he helped were those who were willing to “give something”
back to the party or to him. When he awarded major contracts, he gave them
to people who would kick back money to him. This was absolutely wrong,
and the rot had spread far and deep into UMNO. So instead of UMNO
being the protector of the Malays, it had become their bane. UMNO was
not interested in helping the Malays catch up with the other races. As a
political party, UMNO was no longer useful to the Malays. They were
being left far behind, especially those living in rural constituencies.

We needed a new political party that could rally and harness the support of
the Malay rural vote. In some ways, it was simply a question of numbers:
Malays made up the majority of voters in Malaysia, and rural constituencies
were dominated by them. UMNO was (and still is) a race-based party. Until
2004, it had the support of 13 other parties to lead a powerful coalition,
the Barisan Nasional, whose candidates had the support of all the different
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HOPE

parties and races, and won large parliamentary majorities with ease. Some
sophisticated and highly educated urban Malaysians might have believed
that racial politics was not in keeping with the times, but on the ground it
was very different. For the rural poor in particular, race was not merely
important, it was also (they believed) essential for their survival and well-
being. Previous Opposition coalitions failed because they failed to realise
this fact. If Bersatu was to have any chance of competing with UMNO, it
had to appeal to the rural Malay vote. Bersatu had to be a Malay party to
do that.

In other parts of the world, most of the political parties that took part
in winning independence from Britain have long disappeared. They lost
to new parties formed after independence because they had invariably
forgotten the purpose for which they were formed. Their leaders often
abused power for personal gain. As a party that has its roots before
independence, UMNO lasted much longer than many others—but under
Najib it too had forgotten the purpose for its existence. Najib only thought
of the power he had as leader of UMNO and as Prime Minister, and he
abused his power to enrich himself.

44 Not everyone agreed that a new party was needed. I had to explain it
clearly—and I had rejected the idea myself previously. I was a former
member—and President—of UMNO, too. I had hoped there could be
some kind of internal change sparked by members of the party. For many
months I believed that if Najib ceased to be President of UMNO and
therefore the Prime Minister, UMNO could be rehabilitated and could
regain the support of the people. The Barisan Nasional could still be the
Government of Malaysia.

Sadly, developments in 2015 and 2016 made this idea more and more
untenable. The wrongdoings of Najib had become more open and serious.
Not only was 1MDB losing billions, but it was unable to pay its debts. Then
it was discovered that Najib had USD700 million in a private bank account.
A Prime Minister of Malaysia should not have this kind of money at all in
his account, no matter how he may have acquired it!

However, Lord Acton was right when he said that “power tends to corrupt;
and absolute power corrupts absolutely”—the Malays of UMNO have been
corrupted by the political power they have wielded for 60-odd years, but I
could see that UMNO was in no position to overthrow a corrupt leader. This
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

had to be done from the outside, by those who were not part of the same
corrupt culture. I explained repeatedly in my blog that it was also clear that
Najib’s grip on UMNO was total. Any criticism of his leadership was not
tolerated. Critics were expelled and tame leaders were put in their place. The
entire UMNO leadership seemed to be obligated to Najib despite what he
had done and what he was doing. The personality cult was so strong within
the party that there was no way Najib could be challenged or deposed—
when he sacked party leaders, no one protested. In such circumstances, it
was obvious that there was no way UMNO could be revived from within. A
vote of no confidence in Parliament was also impossible.

I did not reach this conclusion overnight. At first, I believed that I remained
quite popular within UMNO. When I stepped down as Prime Minister in
2003, for example, people got very emotional. So, when I discovered that
some party leaders were making bad decisions, I expected at least to be
heard and taken seriously. I still thought that those in UMNO would love
to see their party do well and continue to enjoy popular respect, so I tried
to give them advice whenever I saw something wrong. I even tried to advise
the Prime Minister—but I made no headway. Whatever advice I gave was
just rejected, and business went on as usual. As things deteriorated under
Najib, I had no choice but to leave the party. What he was doing was totally 45
unacceptable. I had expected that some people might resign and join me or
at least attempt to steer UMNO back to the right course, but nothing like
that happened.

Nobody followed me out because they were enjoying life in the Government.
If they joined me, they would lose all of it—the income, the perks, the
privileges. Malaysian politicians tend to think only about themselves and
if they can get some money into their pockets. In the Pakatan Harapan
Government, as a Minister you were paid RM18,000 a month, which
was a lot of money. Now, if you hand a politician cash in an envelope,
it’s a bribe—but if you appoint him a Minister, he will get the money
anyway, and legally. So that is what motivates them now. It really shows
how much things have changed in the mindset of political leaders. When
Tengku Razaleigh Hamzah challenged me for the leadership of UMNO in
1987 and subsequently left to form his own party—Semangat 46—several
Government Ministers resigned to follow him out, but that is not the case
today. People in UMNO no longer stand for principle—they claim to fight
for their race, religion, country and all that, but what they really fight for
is money.
 CAPTURING

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For example, there was an UMNO branch chairman who came to see
me. He said, “I’ve been in the party for 15 years and I’ve got nothing.
Nothing!” I asked him whether the road in the constituency was tarred.
“Oh yes, yes, the Government is very kind and tarred the road.” Do you
have a clean water supply? “Oh, now we do, and electricity also.” And yet
this man told me he had received nothing, because what he meant was that
he had not received any money for himself. People in UMNO were happy
enough with Najib because he gave them money. He may have stolen that
money, but some of them had the attitude that “It’s not our money—he
stole other people’s money, so that’s fine.” There are also people who
support UMNO because it is a Malay party with a Malay leader, and that’s
all that matters even if the leader is a thief. This kind of thinking is unfit for
civilised society and will destroy a country.

For this reason, I believed that only a party that was dedicated to the
original struggles of the Malays could regain the support of the Malays to
oust Najib. The political environment had changed. Malaysia had made
progress and Malays were better educated and far better off in many ways.
Their mindset, worldview and aspirations had also changed, but the desire
of Malays to be taken care of by a democratically elected Government was
46 still there—and as a whole, the community had still not achieved parity
with the other communities that made up Malaysia. The new party would
have to promise to meet the cherished expectations of the people.

So, in view of all this, I was initially quite encouraged by the reception
Bersatu received after its launch. We were a new party and had to move
quickly to recruit members—we handed out 9,000 membership applications
on the first day of registration in September 2016—but as a party that
intended to challenge UMNO for the Malay vote, we faced a steep uphill
battle. The next general election was less than two years away, and Bersatu
had little time to increase its membership and build up a strong election
machinery. By contrast, UMNO was a formidable force, at least on paper.
It claimed to have 3.5 million members and was very well financed.

Party membership is important in Malaysia. There are generally two types

of political parties: one is elitist where you have a small party consisting
mostly of intellectuals and the like. They sell their idea to the public,
who are not members of the party, and they build influence and political
power on that basis. The other type of party is the mass movement where
everybody is invited to join—and because you are a member of the party,
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

you will support the party. The mass movement has always appealed to
Malaysians and Malaysian politicians. The more members you have, the
greater the guarantee of your support. For example, when I needed to re-
register UMNO in 1988, I did toy with the idea of making it an elitist party.
I discussed it with some of my friends and they said, “No, no, no, don’t do
that. People want to be seen to be active in politics. They want to have their
meetings and be able to influence the Government, which belongs to them.
You must have a mass-based party.” So, UMNO returned as a mass-based
party, and in Malaysia today, practically every party is a mass-based party.

That being understood, it became clear that many people were afraid of
joining Bersatu because they feared being punished by the Government,
especially if they were involved in business. It took a long time for us to
reach the 100,000-member mark, and when it came down to it, we couldn’t
properly examine the motives that each of them had for joining. We
accepted them in good faith and at face value. Some of these people were
so ready to jump ship simply to gain a position—as a Minister, or whatever.
It was very sad. They forgot their principles and the duty they had to the
people who voted for them. There were some who left UMNO to join us,
but some among them came to us only because they thought they could
gain party positions and be put up as candidates at the general election. 47

There was another problem—because we had so little time to ready the

party machinery for the election, we initially appointed party members
to head divisions rather than conduct national party elections. Some of
these divisional leaders believed that they should stay in the position
permanently, and so they started preventing people from joining Bersatu—
that is, people who were not their friends and allies, allowing in only those
who seemed less capable than they were and wouldn’t pose a threat. This is
what UMNO used to do, and Bersatu ended up doing the same, causing it
to have very poor membership for a long time. There was also the problem
that many Malays find politics and responsibility tiresome. Many declined
to join any political party at all, and if they did, they preferred not to
bear the responsibilities of office. Thus, those that ended up standing for
election often did so because they were motivated by personal benefit. This
was not the way it was 60 years ago before independence. People then were
very nationalistic and were prepared to make great personal sacrifices for
the sake of the country.
 CAPTURING

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Eventually, we learnt to set conditions for membership—if you wanted to

join Bersatu, you would have to stay neutral and could not vie for leadership
in the party, at least for a certain period during which your performance
would be assessed. This applied especially to UMNO members after its
defeat, but an exception seemed to have been made for Datuk Seri Hamzah
Zainudin, the current Bersatu Secretary-General who left UMNO to join
us. Party membership rules indicated that he should not have held an
important position until we were convinced of his loyalty and commitment
to the party, but this rule was ignored by the Bersatu President, Tan Sri
Muhyiddin Yassin.

Old enemies, new friends

At the time, however, it was enough that we had a core team of leaders
who knew what needed to be done. From the very start, it was clear that
Bersatu could not achieve its aim of unseating Najib and UMNO by itself.
My son Mukhriz told the Press in early September 2016 that the party
was seeking Anwar’s support to create a working relationship between his
party, PKR, and Bersatu. Muhyiddin also said that Bersatu would join
others in the Opposition to work towards seeking Anwar’s release from
48
his second five-year prison sentence for sodomy. Anwar had been jailed
on charges of sodomy and graft in the late 1990s after I dismissed him as
Deputy Prime Minister. He was released by Tun Abdullah Ahmad Badawi
when the latter became Prime Minister, but during Najib’s premiership he
was again charged with the same crime and jailed again.

Securing his release was agreed to during a meeting of the Pakatan Harapan
Presidential Council, and it was understood that this was one of PKR’s
objectives should it become part of the Government. A few days before
Bersatu was formally registered as a political party, I met Anwar at the
High Court in Kuala Lumpur. He was still serving his second sentence at
the time but was there to file an interim injunction to stop the enforcement
of Malaysia’s National Security Council (NSC) Act 2016. It was the first
time we had met in 18 years and the media was naturally very interested to
know if we had now become political allies.

I had no personal quarrel with Anwar and I did not take part in personal
attacks against him, even when we were politically opposed. At this point,
however, the most important thing was to defeat Najib at the election. To
do so, I had to work with the Opposition. Anwar might stand in the way
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

of any cooperation, so I decided it would be best to meet him to see if we

could work together for a common purpose.

The meeting went well. Anwar was very friendly. We shook hands and I
was invited to his room—he had a room in the court complex—and we
were there for almost an hour. We talked like old friends, although of
course we didn’t talk about why he was jailed. I think he, too, realised that
the only way to fight Najib was to work together because I had a following.
While he made the effort to be friendly, his family did not. His wife Datuk
Seri Dr Wan Azizah Wan Ismail was at first very antagonistic and his
daughter Nurul Izzah Anwar was worse. Nurul will never forgive me.
But it was Anwar who would influence the decision made by PKR. His
main push was that he wanted to become Prime Minister and to become
Prime Minister, he had to be released from jail and be pardoned. So, it was
worthwhile for him to help me defeat Najib.

We talked about the political situation and about Najib. I, too, was against
the NSC Act of 2016. It was open to abuse, and I supported Anwar’s case
against the NSC. Two weeks later, on 19 September, Anwar and I issued
a joint statement criticising the NSC Act. We pointed out that the Act had
set aside the power and role of the Yang di-Pertuan Agong and Conference 49
of Rulers. We also expressed our concern that the Act would threaten
Malaysia’s democratic system.

Subsequently in November 2016, acting in my capacity as Chairman of

Bersatu, I confirmed in my blog what everyone had been thinking: Bersatu
intended to work with the Opposition to defeat the Barisan Nasional and
UMNO in the general election.

This naturally meant meeting the leaders of all the parties, and one of
the most important was DAP stalwart Lim Kit Siang. Our first meeting
was quite pleasant despite our sometimes acrimonious history. In October
1987, Kit Siang had been arrested during Operation Lalang and had been
detained under the Internal Security Act, so I thought he might have been
harbouring grudges against the Government and me. But on 4 March
2016, he openly supported the Citizens’ Declaration which I initiated,
demanding, among other things, Najib’s resignation. After that, we met
several times. I found him quite reasonable, and we talked almost as if
there had been no problems between us. I didn’t bring up all the things that
 CAPTURING

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he had said about UMNO, and he didn’t bring up what I had said about
the DAP.

Besides, when you are in Government, you tend to demonise your

Opposition and Kit Siang was very much a target of these labels. Reading
my statements when I was Prime Minister, people could not be faulted
if they thought he was my mortal enemy. In the Barisan Nasional, we
viewed him as a “Chinese Chinese”—an ethnic Chinese whose sympathies
lay exclusively with his own community. The DAP was initially a branch
of Singapore’s People’s Action Party. Singapore has a Chinese majority,
which explains why they have never understood the politics of the
Peninsula. Kit Siang was very supportive of PAP. In the early days, he
assumed that Malaysia was like Singapore, but Malaysia was not and will
never be like Singapore. Singapore is dominated by ethnic Chinese and
everyone else is a minority. We are much more multicultural in Malaysia
and we have very large groups of different ethnicities—more than 30 per
cent of the population is non-Malay. Malay opinion is very important in
the Peninsula, but in the early days Kit Siang would talk about the situation
here as if we were in Singapore.

50 He liked to use the phrase “Malaysian Malaysia”, which might seem

inclusive at first glance. However, it implied that the status quo in Malaysia
did not favour Malaysians, and that Malays had somehow hijacked the
country. That didn’t go down very well with most Malays or with me, but
over the years, DAP leaders have come to realise that they need Malay
support. They have now reached the stage where they actually have Malay
members and Malay candidates for election, many of whom have won on
the DAP ticket. So, the DAP itself has changed—it was not the DAP of
1965, and this was a good thing that made our new alliance possible.

That said, forming the coalition wasn’t easy. There were angry outbursts,
especially over my presence within the Opposition. Some DAP members felt
that if I joined them, their own supporters would leave. Also, my willingness
to work with my so-called enemies earned me the reputation of a “U-turn
champion”, a label Najib used to discredit me. The cause of his ire was
apparently my decision to support a royal pardon for Anwar, as well as
my stated willingness to halt public cash handouts (under Bantuan Rakyat
1Malaysia) if the Pakatan Harapan won the coming general election.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

In the end, these were small things, and the importance of establishing a
credible coalition overruled other considerations. Events moved quickly in
the following weeks. Finally, on 13 December, Bersatu signed an electoral
alliance with the other Opposition parties to form the Pakatan Harapan.
The pact, called the Cooperation and Common Framework Agreement,
was concluded at the PKR headquarters in Kuala Lumpur. It was signed
by Muhyiddin as Bersatu President, PKR President Dr Wan Azizah, DAP
Secretary-General Lim Guan Eng, and Parti Amanah Negara President
Mohamad Sabu. The seven-point agreement included a provision that the
alliance would choose candidates based on their ability to win, and that
the component parties would not contest against each other. My absence at
the signing ceremony was noted by the Press. But in Bersatu, the President
(Muhyiddin) was the executive. I merely chaired the Supreme Council.

There was much chatter about this new political alliance. Weren’t Anwar
and I sworn enemies? How could Bersatu form a political alliance with
Anwar’s PKR? After all, I had removed Anwar as my deputy in 1998 and he
had subsequently been jailed for sodomy. I had also declared that someone
convicted of sodomy should not become Prime Minister, and there was also
the long history of tension between myself and various DAP leaders.
51
As I mentioned, Anwar was serving a five-year sentence on a second
sodomy charge after a trial that took place while Najib was Prime Minister.
I followed events closely, and after evidence emerged to suggest that the
supposedly impartial government prosecutor had been paid a huge amount
of money from a bank account controlled by Najib, I thought Anwar should
be given the benefit of the doubt. He appeared to have been unfairly treated,
and the decision of the Court may have been influenced by the Government.

In July 2017 I gave an interview to The Guardian where I said that Anwar
ought to be released from jail and allowed to contest in a parliamentary
election. Should the Pakatan Harapan coalition win the general election,
I said, I would support efforts by the new Government to persuade the
King to give him a full pardon. Some newspapers in Malaysia and foreign
countries saw this as big news and gave it prominent coverage. Critics
wondered how we could work together at all, but by then the situation in
Malaysia had become very serious. If we kept on raking up the past, no
one would be able to work with anybody. We would always be fighting old
battles against old enemies, and Najib would be the ultimate victor. I was
 CAPTURING

HOPE

not angry over what had happened in the past, and I believed Anwar was
not angry either.

In the same month as the Guardian interview, I was asked to serve as

Chairman of the Pakatan Harapan at a meeting of the council of the
coalition. This was the result of months of discussions, and Bersatu
President Muhyiddin was named one of three Deputy Presidents of the
Pakatan Harapan as well. He was to serve with Guan Eng of the DAP
and Mohamad Sabu of Amanah. The Pakatan Harapan also unveiled its
common logo: it consisted of the word “Harapan” (meaning “hope”) in
white on a red background. The “A” in the middle was a chevron or an
inverted “V”. The logo was to be used by all Pakatan candidates if the
coalition was registered in time for the general election.

An important unusual decision was also made at that meeting. I would

not be just the Chairman of the coalition—I was also to be the Prime-
Minister-designate if the coalition won, and it was verbally decided that
Anwar would be the eighth Prime Minister of Malaysia after I had cleaned
up the mess left behind by Najib. No actual period was decided but it was
assumed that I would not serve the full term.
52
Meanwhile, there was a need for the Opposition parties to unite and avoid
three-cornered fights. “There should only be one candidate contesting
under one party, one logo,” I said. The reason was simple: this was a fight
between David and Goliath, as my daughter Marina put it, and those
parties that refused to cooperate and fielded their own candidates were
effectively supporting UMNO and thus betraying the people. In the run-up
to the general election, we began working together in earnest. There was
the Presidential Council where all of us met, and then there was the Higher
Council, where delegates attended together with their respective heads—
but when we appeared in public to campaign, the leaders of all four parties
would speak.

If you had asked me in 2003 if I could ever imagine standing against

UMNO—the party I had loved for so much of my life—I would have
laughed. Had you told me I would find myself standing shoulder to
shoulder with those from PKR, the DAP and former members of Parti
Islam Se-Malaysia (PAS) who were now in a new party, Amanah, I would
not have believed you at all. And yet, here we were. We didn’t know it yet,
but we were on the brink of changing Malaysian history.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Chapter 4
Saving Malaysia

On Saturday, 7 April 2018, the Yang di-Pertuan Agong dissolved

Parliament on the advice of Prime Minister Datuk Seri Najib Razak. The
general election was set for 9 May, and the official announcement came
just over two months before the term of Malaysia’s 13th Parliament would
have expired—constitutionally, the Malaysian Parliament can sit for a
maximum of five years from the date of its first meeting after a general
election, which in this case was 24 June 2013. The sitting Government could
have sought the dissolution of Parliament at any time, and Malaysians had
been speculating about a fresh election since 2015. They were disappointed
each time Najib failed to act, but this was probably because he wasn’t fully
confident that he would win. However, by the beginning of the second
quarter of 2018, the kleptocrat really had no choice. He had to call an
election as the parliamentary term was ending.

In an attempt to stack the odds against the opposition Pakatan Harapan

coalition, the governing Barisan Nasional had been trying for some time to
bribe voters with cash in the form of handouts known as Bantuan Rakyat 53
1Malaysia (BR1M, “1Malaysia People’s Assistance”), but it very quickly
dawned upon the Government that money couldn’t buy everything.

Consequently, Najib found other ways to weaken the Opposition. He

introduced draconian security legislation, changed electoral boundaries to
favour the Barisan Nasional, and enacted vaguely worded “anti-fake news”
laws. There were many hurdles to overcome, including the fact that the
Registrar of Societies (RoS) had yet to provide its official consent to the
formation of the Opposition coalition. So, despite opinion polls clearly
showing that the Barisan Nasional’s popularity was waning, the Pakatan
Harapan coalition faced an uphill battle because of all these shenanigans.

This did not deter us from preparing for the general election as best we
could. At the Pakatan Harapan convention in Shah Alam on 7 January
2018, delegates decided that I was their choice for Prime Minister if
we won the battle, while Datuk Seri Dr Wan Azizah Wan Ismail was
named the candidate for Deputy Prime Minister. The agreement among
coalition partners also stipulated that once in power, the Pakatan Harapan
Government would seek a royal pardon for Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim.
 CAPTURING

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Anwar was due to be released from prison in June, but without such a pardon
he could not stand for elected office for five years after his release. Speaking
at the convention, I acknowledged the importance of Anwar’s support for
our cause. I told delegates that since it was during my administration that
Anwar was sent to prison, it could not be easy for him to accept me and
shake my hand; and it was not just Anwar—his family also felt the same.
As for me, I was willing to set aside the past. I could not allow the country
to be destroyed simply because of my reluctance to forgive and forget.

As I mentioned in the previous chapter, the original Opposition coalition—

the Pakatan Rakyat—had been struggling for many years to garner enough
Malay support at the polls to make a change. This was obvious in the 2013
election when Opposition parties won 50.9 per cent of the popular vote but
lost the election because they could not win over enough Malay-majority
parliamentary constituencies. The Pakatan Harapan parties believed I
could fix this problem, which was why they welcomed my party, Bersatu,
into the coalition and chose me as their candidate for Prime Minister. We
all felt the overwhelming need to rise above our personal differences to rid
our country of the kleptocrat.

54 In January, we even managed to agree on how many seats each party

would contest. Bersatu would field candidates in 52 constituencies, while
Anwar and Dr Wan Azizah’s Parti Keadilan Rakyat (PKR) would contest
in 51. The Democratic Action Party (DAP) would contest 35 and the
remaining 27 would go to Parti Amanah Negara (Amanah). It should
be noted that most of the constituencies allocated to Bersatu were seats
where UMNO had won with a strong majority. As a Bumiputera party,
Bersatu was a match for UMNO, which was also a Bumiputera party. The
Pakatan Harapan hoped that with me heading the party there would be a
“Malay tsunami” of sorts that could unseat the Barisan Nasional. It took
time to decide on all these details. We pointed out that if we fought one
another and disagreed especially on which seats to contest, we would not
win. We were sure of that. So, we allocated seats based on each party’s
electoral track record: PKR had done well in Selangor while Bersatu would
contest “bad” constituencies where the Opposition had previously always
lost. The DAP’s seats were in Chinese-majority areas and Amanah would
contest constituencies where they would be a match against Parti Islam Se-
Malaysia (PAS). As for me, I decided not to go back to my old constituency
of Kubang Pasu in the northern peninsular state of Kedah despite appeals
by my old supporters there—after I retired in 2003, Kubang Pasu started
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

to be dominated by people who were not very friendly to us. Instead, I

decided to stand in Langkawi, which I have always liked. Over the years,
I had been pushing for the economic development of the island, so many
of the locals there knew me well. I felt certain that they would support me.
And they did.

The fight begins

The Barisan Nasional was worried. In the 2018 Budget announced the
previous October, Najib tried again to bribe voters by promising billions
of ringgit in aid and infrastructure, particularly in Malay-majority
constituencies, while other UMNO leaders began to use scare tactics against
us. For example, they claimed repeatedly that if the Pakatan Harapan
won the election, the Malays would become “homeless and despised in
their own country” because the Government would be dominated by the
DAP, which was seen to be a “Chinese party”. The Opposition alliance,
they said, was a “political charade”, and they claimed that there was so
much bad blood among the component parties that the Pakatan Harapan
coalition itself would not last long and, as a result, the nation would suffer
“irreparable damage”.
55

Even political analysts were generally pessimistic about our chances. As

The ASEAN Post described it, our coalition was seen as “a disorganised
marriage of convenience, with surveys and studies projecting a hung
parliament in the best-case scenario” and that “the odds were already
stacked against the Opposition, as Pakatan Harapan was up against a
party with extensive financial backing and a firm grip on the mainstream
media.” Furthermore, “allegations that Malaysia’s Election Commission
(EC) was under the influence of the Barisan Nasional were rife.”

Barisan Nasional politicians continued to attack me. Deputy Prime

Minister Datuk Seri Dr Ahmad Zahid Hamidi said that because I was
already 92 years old, I would ruin the country. PAS President Datuk Seri
Abdul Hadi Awang was somewhat kinder. He told voters in Langkawi
not to vote for me so I could enjoy my retirement. “If you love Mahathir,
don’t vote for him. Let him rest, let him spend his last days in peace, and
not become Prime Minister again.” At a ceramah (political rally) in Kuah,
Langkawi, he advised the crowd to pick someone younger: “Stop recycling
old candidates.” Others tried to drive a wedge between me and the other
parties in the coalition. Parti Gerakan Rakyat Malaysia President Datuk
 CAPTURING

HOPE

Seri Mah Siew Keong, for example, tried to convince voters that I would not
honour my undertaking to allow Anwar to succeed me as Prime Minister.
According to him, I would only give the position to my son, Mukhriz. It
was all nonsense. As anyone who cared to look at my record would see, I
had never done anything to advance Mukhriz’s political career in the past.
In fact, when I was Prime Minister the first time around, I stopped him
from going into politics as I didn’t relish being accused of nepotism.

At the same time, the Government did its best to prevent me from meeting
Anwar. On the afternoon of 10 January 2018, three days after I had been
named the Pakatan Harapan’s candidate for Prime Minister, I went to
visit Anwar at the Cheras Rehabilitation Hospital where he was receiving
treatment. I was joined at the hospital by Bersatu Youth Chief Syed Saddiq
Syed Abdul Rahman and PKR Vice-President Nurul Izzah Anwar. Anwar
was there to recuperate after undergoing surgery to his right shoulder in
November 2017, and at the time he was still serving a five-year sentence in
Sungai Buloh Prison on his second sodomy charge, and had been injured
in an accident while travelling in one of the Prisons Department’s vehicles.

I had been planning to visit Anwar when he was in hospital but I had to
56 postpone due to my own poor health and work schedule. I wanted to thank
Anwar in person because the Pakatan Harapan had reached an important
consensus about the election. Sadly, our request to see Anwar was
disallowed. Prisons Department officials told me that they had received
orders from someone “up high” not to permit it. I knew that this was Dr
Ahmad Zahid, who was also Minister of Home Affairs. About 30 Prisons
Department personnel led by the Sungai Buloh Prisons Director Abdul
Kadir Rais stood outside Anwar’s ward to prevent me from entering. It
was not as if I was demanding to see Anwar on a regular basis. In fact, my
last meeting with Anwar had been more than a year earlier when we met at
the Kuala Lumpur High Court where Anwar was challenging the legality
of the National Security Council Act. My inability to meet Anwar at the
hospital left me disappointed. Never in my time as Prime Minister—during
which many labelled me a dictator—did I seek to prevent social visits to
prisoners, but Najib’s so-called democratic government seemed to think it
was necessary.

The other cause for the Barisan Nasional’s worry was Najib’s misjudgment
of the strength of Bersatu as a unifying force. For years, Najib remained
convinced that the nation’s small rural constituencies populated largely
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

by Malays would always give the Barisan Nasional enough seats to form
the Government, just like they did in the 2013 election. Such was the
confidence of the Government that in September 2016 it saw no reason to
prevent Bersatu from being registered. It made this judgment even though
it knew that the new party had been set up by ex-UMNO members. Najib
did not think an indigenous party would be powerful enough to challenge
UMNO. Certainly, it would not be able to work with the other Opposition
parties. With me as party chairman, he believed, it was unthinkable that the
Opposition would accept Bersatu as a partner in an Opposition coalition.

In this, Najib was completely wrong. My calls for Opposition unity were
soon acceded to. On 14 March 2017, Bersatu officially joined the Pakatan
Harapan as a member-party. The other parties then named me Chairman
of the enlarged Opposition coalition. This turn of events sent tremors
through Barisan Nasional and UMNO leaders, possibly influencing them
to find ways to deregister Bersatu, or even stop us from contesting in the
nation’s 14th General Election in 2018. They saw an opportunity to do this
in July 2017 when the new political coalition applied for registration and
the use of a new common symbol or logo. In November 2017, the RoS told
Pakatan Harapan representatives that there were two problems regarding
the registration. One was that the RoS did not recognise the validity of the 57
DAP’s Central Executive Committee (CEC) due to irregularities in party
elections several years earlier. The other was that Bersatu had not held an
annual general meeting (AGM) since its establishment. The DAP quickly
complied with the RoS’ requirements and the Registrar then issued a letter
saying that the DAP’s CEC was legitimate. Bersatu also held its AGM in
December 2017 and submitted a report on it, but the RoS did not respond.

The silence was deafening, forcing us to turn to the courts for help. On
21 February, the Pakatan Harapan filed an application for various orders
against the RoS in an attempt to compel the department to respond to our
application. On 1 March, the High Court allowed the Pakatan Harapan
leadership to file a judicial review, but it was only on 16 May—after we had
won the election—that the RoS finally registered the coalition.

Not knowing whether or not the Pakatan Harapan coalition would be

legally established in time with a common logo put the four parties at
a severe disadvantage ahead of the general election. We could produce
flags and banners with our own party names and symbols, but if at the last
moment the formation of the coalition was approved, much money would
 CAPTURING

HOPE

have been wasted. More funds would be needed for Pakatan Harapan flags
and buntings with the coalition symbol. We could not afford to waste the
little money we had, but Najib had tons of money not only to pay for flags
and buntings but for corruption as well.

On 9 March, presumably in response to our legal moves, the RoS issued

Bersatu a notice under Section 14(2) of the Societies Act 1996 requiring
the party to submit yet more information and documents to the Registrar.
On 5 April, just two days before the dissolution of Parliament, Bersatu
was told that since it had allegedly failed to fulfil the department’s request
for detailed information on its annual general meeting, the party would be
suspended for 30 days. During this period Bersatu would not be allowed
to conduct any party activity or use its logo. If it failed to answer the
authority’s request within that period, it would be permanently disbanded.
In effect, Najib managed to prevent UMNO’s main rival from contesting
in the elections. With Bersatu outlawed, the Pakatan Harapan would not
be able to get itself registered as a legal entity either. So, it looked as if the
component parties would have to contest under their own banners instead
of a coalition banner as they had planned. Bersatu members were dismayed
but we were determined not to give up. One of the options we considered
58 was for Bersatu members to stand on the tickets of other parties within the
Pakatan Harapan coalition, including the DAP, if our application to the
RoS was rejected. But doing that would suggest that the Opposition was
not united, and that there was no true coalition.

After conferring with the leaders of the other Pakatan Harapan parties, I
held a Press conference on 6 April to say, “It is my pleasure to announce
to all of you, and all of Malaysia, and the whole world, that we will
all be contesting under one symbol—the PKR symbol.” All parties—
Bersatu, the DAP and Amanah—would stand under the PKR banner.
It was an outstanding show of Opposition unity. It also undermined the
Government’s message to Malays that the DAP dominated the Opposition
coalition. For the DAP it was a difficult decision and many in the party
were worried that older DAP voters were so accustomed to the party’s
traditional rocket logo that they might be confused at the polls. It was a
difficult path for Bersatu as well, but the members were very supportive
of what we proposed. We had to explain to the electorate that yes, you’re
voting for a candidate standing under the PKR logo, but it’s really a vote for
Bersatu and the Pakatan Harapan. Not everyone understood what we were
doing. Some rejected us because they simply didn’t like PKR. On the other
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

hand, in Langkawi and in Jerlun where my son Mukhriz was contesting,

the voters knew very well that the contestants were from Bersatu.

There was a flurry of comments on this, and one from The Straits Times
of 6 April 2018 stood out: “I don’t think it will dent Mahathir’s campaign
trail as his brand is bigger than [Bersatu] itself […] It will however affect
[Bersatu]’s candidates who will be relying on Mahathir’s name and his
association with [Bersatu]—the provisional dissolution would only rally
the converted and will unlikely sway the fence-sitters.” Meanwhile, the
upcoming election was shaping up to be the dirtiest in Malaysia’s history.
“If you go by the sentiments of the people, we will win hands down,” I told
AFP on 13 April. “But we know (Najib) is going to cheat.”

More dirty tricks

We feared that Najib would use strong-arm methods, handouts and other
bribes to affect the decisions of the electorate—they were doing it right
in the open. Money, bribes, and in one by-election, they gave out lorry-
loads of kitchen equipment. Take Federal Land Development Authority
(FELDA) settlements, for example. In the 2013 election, few settlers
59
attended Opposition-organised ceramah in those areas. Set up in 1956
primarily to assist poor Malays, FELDA opened up large tracts of land for
landless Malays to build their future in agriculture by planting rubber and
oil palm. Historically, these settlers had been fiercely loyal to UMNO—
so much so that in some areas, Opposition candidates would even get
chased away. In order to ensure the continued loyalty of the settlers, Najib
announced a whole raft of new goodies, including childcare centres, more
street lights and better paved roads. Cash was also given to the settlers,
especially during the campaign.

In 2018, however, FELDA settlers came out in droves to hear what

Pakatan Harapan candidates had to say. In fact, the change in attitude had
been obvious even before the campaign officially began. On 10 April, for
example, an Opposition ceramah I attended in Temerloh, in the state of
Pahang, drew a crowd of 20,000. It was beginning to look as if UMNO
and the Barisan Nasional could sink, after all. “They say there won’t be
a Malay tsunami,” I told the crowd. “Wait. You will see.” Then I added,
“There will also be a Chinese tsunami and an Indian tsunami.”
 CAPTURING

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BR1M was another factor to consider. These cash handouts began in 2012,
with each eligible household receiving an annual subsidy of RM500. As the
anger of Malaysians towards his Government grew, Najib steadily increased
the handout. By 2017 this monetary gift had risen to RM1,200 a year for
households earning RM3,000 and below each month. For households
earning RM3,001 to RM4,000 monthly, BR1M totalled RM900. Singles
earning RM2,000 and below a month got RM450. In the 2013 election
the Barisan Nasional manifesto promised bigger BR1M payouts to lower-
income households if the ruling coalition won. Najib will deny that this
was a bribe but if BR1M was not meant to pay for votes in the election, it
should not have been mentioned in the manifesto. For the coming election
it looked like the strategy might be used once again, at least with some
voters. This was suggested by the comment of a BR1M recipient I quoted
on my blog in December 2016. He put it quite bluntly: “I will support Najib
because he gave me money.”

Governments in all countries have an obligation to look after the poor.

But in Najib’s case this support was nullified by the Goods and Services
Tax (GST) he introduced in April 2015 and by the withdrawal of various
subsidies. The cost of living shot up by more than the amount paid to the
60 needy through BR1M. There were even reports that people eligible for the
payout were threatened that if they attended rallies by Opposition parties,
they would not be entitled to it. If this did not show that BR1M was meant
to bribe people, I don’t know what is meant by bribery.

Gerrymandering was another major concern. In September 2016 the

Election Commission began redrawing the boundaries of parliamentary
state legislative assembly constituencies. This was an exercise that
took place every eight years or so and was meant to correct population
movements. But, this time, the constituencies were redrawn in a way that
blatantly favoured the Barisan Nasional. In many cases, Malay voters were
separated from the Chinese. Najib clearly believed that the Malays could
be easily bribed to vote for the Barisan Nasional but the Chinese would
continue to be dead against him as they had been in the 13th General
Election. In this sense, the election was shaping up to be the dirtiest and
most racist in the country’s history. Furthermore, instead of correcting the
inequalities in the existing electoral boundaries, the Commission made
things worse by creating more super-sized constituencies. The changes
shifted voters from marginal constituencies of the Opposition into huge
Opposition strongholds that were packed with more than 100,000 voters.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

The shift was at the expense of other Opposition strongholds. Meanwhile,

Barisan Nasional-controlled seats such as Putrajaya had as few as 17,000
voters. The changes mainly affected Johor, Perak, and Melaka—all of
which were regarded as swing states—as well as Opposition-controlled
Kelantan and Selangor.

On 19 October 2016 the Selangor state government filed a judicial review

naming the Election Commission, its Chairman Datuk Seri Mohd Hashim
Abdullah and Secretary Datuk Abdul Ghani Salleh, as respondents. It
argued that the Commission’s re-delineation notice was lacking in details,
thus preventing voters and the state government from exercising their
constitutional right to file objections. The challenge also stated that the
Commission had carried out the exercise using a defective electoral roll.
After receiving over 800 complaints from the public and at least 18 legal
challenges, the Commission withdrew some proposals, but the changes
that remained still benefited the Barisan Nasional. In March 2017, the
Commission went ahead with the second display of the proposed re-
delineation. It did this despite the Selangor state government obtaining a
stay order against it from the courts, pending the outcome of the judicial
review. This meant that, for the first time since Malaysia’s formation, the
state of Selangor was excluded from the second re-delineation feedback. 61

In December 2017, after the Selangor state government’s case was

dismissed by the Court of Appeal, the Commission rushed out a notice of
local enquiry within two days. These feedback sessions were held during
the end-of-year holiday period when many objectors were away. Critics of
the Commission received a further setback in February 2018 when a three-
man Federal Court bench, chaired by Chief Justice Tun Mohamed Raus
Sharif, dismissed applications by two Opposition MPs and seven voters
from Melaka. They had complained about two Court of Appeal judgments
that favoured the Government party with respect to the redrawing of
electoral boundaries. The Federal Court said that the applicants had failed
to satisfy the requirements under Section 96 of the Courts of Judicature
Act 1964 to have the merits of their cases heard.

The Court’s decision was difficult to accept, particularly since it came from
a Chief Justice who should have retired long before. In August 2017, I had
objected to the appointment of Tun Raus on grounds that Article 125 of
the Federal Constitution did not allow the appointment of a Chief Justice
beyond the retirement age, plus a six-month extension. I had filed an
 CAPTURING

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application for judicial review in the Kuala Lumpur High Court to compel
Najib to advise the Yang di-Pertuan Agong to revoke Raus’ appointment,
but it was unsuccessful.

On 8 March 2018, the Commission’s final report on the redrawn

electoral boundaries for parliamentary and state constituencies was
submitted to Najib. On 28 March, the lower house of Parliament—the Dewan
Rakyat—passed a re-delineation motion in the first such exercise by the EC
in 15 years, and it affected 98 out of 165 parliamentary seats in Peninsular
Malaysia. Najib’s reasoning was that the last electoral re-delineation was
done in 2003 and that many demographic and other changes had taken
place since then. For instance, the total number of registered voters had
increased by 36 per cent—which is to say, an additional three million voters
from 8,347,107 on 27 December 2001 to 11,379,352 voters on 6 September
2016. As MPs debated the report, I joined hundreds of demonstrators on
28 March, defying a heavy police presence outside Parliament, to call for
the re-delineated maps to be withdrawn. But it was of no use. Despite the
heated debate, the motion to accept the Commission’s report passed by 129
votes to 80. Soon afterwards, it obtained the royal assent.

62 Things were bad enough in 2013, when 51 per cent of Malaysians voted for
the Opposition, but these parties won only 40 per cent of the parliamentary
seats. In early 2018, some observers said they believed that with the new
electoral boundaries in force, the Pakatan would need a minimum of
58 per cent of the vote to remove the Barisan Nasional. Furthermore,
some Press reports pointed out that the re-delineation would result in
malapportionment—that is, a person’s vote in one constituency could be
worth more votes in another constituency—as well as gerrymandering, but
all this was brazenly ignored. There was also another major problem that
was longer-term in nature: boundaries were being redrawn to segregate
Malaysians along racial lines. NGOs like Tindak Malaysia warned that
re-delineation would result in increased ethnic segregation as “it packs
different races into different constituencies.” The exercise had the potential
of creating a Parliament that did not truly represent the Malaysian people,
no matter who the winner was.

There were also many other things the Election Commission did or did not
do that were very worrying. During the course of one legal challenge, for
example, it was revealed that the Commission had no records of 136,272
voters without addresses in Selangor because the relevant documents had
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

been destroyed. Similarly, there were 44,190 voters without addresses

in Melaka and 56,323 in Perak. Whether this was deliberate or the
result of incompetence is difficult to say. But the addresses were very
important because this was the basis upon which voters were assigned to
constituencies. Other incidents looked more obviously like political bias.
In 2017, the Commission stopped the practice of supplying political parties
with a soft copy of the quarterly draft supplementary roll. Instead, only
hard copies were displayed in different areas. This made it very difficult
to systematically investigate allegations of phantom voters and other
irregularities. Also, according to the Commission, about 20 per cent of the
total number of eligible voters (about 4.2 million people) had not registered
to vote by early 2017. But instead of trying to encourage more citizens to
register, the Commission actually made it more difficult by withdrawing the
appointment of Assistant Registrar Officers (ARO) from political parties.

Najib had been accused of cheating in Malaysian elections before. In 2013

there had been reports of non-existent voters being added to the electoral
roll. There had been allegations that the indelible ink used could be washed
off people’s index fingers, which meant that theoretically they could vote
again. But the history of Malaysian elections had never before seen such
blatant attempts at electoral manipulation as that carried out by Najib 63
ahead of the 2018 elections.

In addition to all the tricks employed to block and weaken the Opposition,
Najib also introduced “fake news” legislation in Parliament on 26 March
2018. Not surprisingly, it was passed on 2 April. The new law made it an
offence to create, publish or disseminate false news. Those found guilty
faced up to six years in prison and fines of up to RM500,000. Naturally,
I was one of the first people to be investigated under the new law. What
scared many people was the lack of a definition of “false news”. The usual
practice was to make it clear in the law as to what was considered wrong.
Without such an explanation, Government officials (the police and the
Public Prosecutor) could define “false news” in any way they wanted. It
would merely be enough for something to be officially considered “false
news” for the author, lecturer or other individual disseminating the
information or expressing an opinion to be subject to legal action.

One Deputy Minister stated that news that had not been confirmed by
the Government would be regarded as false news. Since all foreign news
was not confirmed by the Malaysian Government, that would mean all
 CAPTURING

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reports regarding 1MDB, the money in Najib’s bank account, the seizure
of property purchased with stolen money from 1MDB (according to the US
Department of Justice), the Equanimity superyacht allegedly owned by Jho
Low and seized by the Government of Indonesia with the help of the US
Federal Bureau of Investigation and so on, would all be classified as “false
news”. Only statements issued by the Government would be regarded as
true. In order to avoid being charged under the Act, Opposition parties and
their spokesmen, as well as lecturers and other commentators, would be
forced to censor themselves. They would be like UMNO members who were
not allowed to criticise Najib. Nobody could say anything about Najib’s
wrongdoings. Critics would simply be shut down and Najib’s opponents
would lose. With legislation like this, the world’s scammers and thieves
could just relax. The illegal would become legal and the legal, illegal.

Yet another means by which Najib’s sycophants attempted to rig the election
in favour of the Barisan Nasional was to pressure the EC into holding
the general election on a Wednesday. General elections in Malaysia are
usually scheduled during (or over) weekends to make it as easy as possible
for Malaysians to vote. This was the situation for the seven elections from
1964 to 1990, and for the three elections that took place from 2004 to 2013.
64 Elections took place on weekdays only in 1995 and 1999, and even then,
they were scheduled to create a sort of long weekend—the 1995 election
was held on a Monday and Tuesday, while in 1999 it was held on a Monday.

The Opposition was concerned about “outstation voters”, namely, voters

who lived out of the state where they were registered voters. These were
voters who worked in large urban areas such as Kuala Lumpur, Penang,
Johor Bahru and even Singapore, who would have to return to their home
districts, many of which were in rural areas. Studies had shown that these
voters tended to be Opposition supporters and they had the potential to
cause electoral upsets in rural seats usually won by the Barisan Nasional.
Setting polling day in the middle of the week almost guaranteed that a
large number of these voters would simply not be able to make the trip
back and forth.

There were around 500,000 Malaysians working in Singapore, for example.

Many of these commuted daily into Singapore from the Johor Bahru–
Kulai area. Then there were also 150,000 registered Sabah and Sarawak
voters working in Peninsular Malaysia. Both groups would have to take
time off to vote. By some estimates, six or seven million people across
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

the Peninsula would have to be on the move—all of them would have to

scramble to book airline tickets or struggle to get home on clogged roads
along with thousands of their fellow citizens.

People were furious, and such was the strength of popular anger in the
wake of the announcement that some private companies were prepared
to give their employees paid leave in order to vote. Marble Emporium, a
construction materials company in Shah Alam, was the first to respond. It
announced that it would give its Sabah and Sarawak employees three days’
leave, an air ticket and a RM300 allowance to return home to vote. Many
other companies quickly made similar announcements.

In the Pakatan Harapan, we felt that setting polling day on a Wednesday

was a low trick to cheat voters out of their rights—but it clearly backfired
against those who sought to benefit from it. It resulted in mass mobilisation
among previously uninterested people, including many youths, who
were now inspired to become politically active. Carpooling groups
formed spontaneously. People started up mutual assistance platforms
like [Link] or [Link] where you could request
to be part of a carpool, get subsidies for travel expenses as well as travel
assistance for disabled voters, or on the other hand you could sign up to 65
lead a carpool or even contribute towards someone else’s travel expenses.
Public donations to these platforms allowed the young people behind these
platforms to charter buses from Kuala Lumpur, Johor Bahru and Puchong
(in the state of Selangor) to various states. There were also Malaysians
living abroad who organised themselves to make sure their postal votes
would reach the EC on time. Their drive and determination were inspiring.
Later in early 2020, when there was the move by Bersatu to leave the
Pakatan Harapan and join UMNO, I thought about all these people, and
knew I could not let them down by forming ties with the very people they
had voted out.

As the intensity of the public backlash became obvious, Najib and the
Government were forced to back down, at least partially. On 11 April,
two days after the EC made its controversial announcement, the Prime
Minister’s Office released a statement saying that 9 May (polling day)
would be a national public holiday “to enable Malaysian citizens to carry
out their responsibilities as voters”. The concession helped some, but the
midweek polling date was still very awkward for a large number of voters.
 CAPTURING

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If this wasn’t enough, we also had to pay close attention to the three-cornered
fights resulting from PAS’ refusal to join the Pakatan Harapan coalition,
prompting some observers to say that this would further strengthen the
Barisan Nasional’s ability to regain its two-thirds majority. PAS’ refusal
stemmed from its enmity towards Amanah and the DAP. Amanah was
a splinter party from PAS, while the DAP had criticised PAS’ insistence
on implementing Islamic criminal law, which we call hudud law. But PAS
also claimed to be against the Barisan Nasional. As PAS Vice-President
Iskandar Abdul Samad said, the party had not forgotten the “atrocities”
committed by the Barisan Nasional in the past. But as the months passed
by, it was hard to avoid the conclusion that PAS was only pretending to
fight the Barisan Nasional. The party was not struggling for race and
religion as it claimed. Instead, its actions were weakening the Malays, and
by insisting on splitting the Opposition vote, PAS was really enabling the
Barisan Nasional coalition to win.

Also, although they declared themselves to be against the DAP, political

reality showed otherwise. When PAS worked with the DAP in the Barisan
Alternatif, and later in the Pakatan Rakyat, it won a significantly larger
number of seats. However, after the failure of the Pakatan Rakyat to
66 win power in the 2013 national election, many PAS leaders seemed less
interested in the coalition. This was especially so after a very public dispute
with the DAP over the implementation of Islamic criminal law. In 2014,
the DAP opposed PAS’ moves to push two private members’ bills through
Parliament seeking to introduce a controversial Islamic penal law in
Kelantan. Opponents of the political alliance within PAS responded by
arguing that further cooperation with the DAP was “haram” (forbidden).
Non-Muslim partners in any such political alliance, they argued, had
to accept what PAS claimed to be the Islamic agenda. PAS eventually
withdrew from the coalition, and in September 2015, Amanah, a party
formed by PAS dissidents, replaced PAS in the new Opposition alliance
that came to be known as the Pakatan Harapan.

Even so, informal discussions with PAS continued. But in 2017, when
PAS was invited to join the Pakatan Harapan in the forthcoming general
election, the party laid down a requirement that was impossible for the
coalition to accept: PAS insisted on contesting in all 60 constituencies
that it contested in 2013, whether or not it had won or lost. PAS must
surely have known that its victories in constituencies along the west coast
of Peninsular Malaysia in 2008 and 2013 were due to DAP and Chinese
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

support, without which the Islamist party would have lost. PAS also knew
that in two-cornered fights between PAS and the Barisan Nasional on
the west coast in 2018 it would lose because it would no longer enjoy the
support of the Pakatan Harapan’s Chinese and Indian supporters. The
truth is, after leaving the Opposition coalition, PAS lost the Chinese vote.
Although Chinese voters might be a minority in a constituency, contests
between Malay parties or candidates gave the Chinese the deciding votes.
Thus, if PAS contested against both the Barisan Nasional and the Pakatan
Harapan, the Malay vote would be divided into three. In such a situation,
the vote for PAS, though small, would effectively reduce support for the
Pakatan Harapan, thus helping Barisan Nasional candidates to win in
those constituencies.

The reality was that voting for PAS was the same as voting for the Barisan
Nasional and supporting the criminal acts, corruption and theft carried out
by Najib. After the Pakatan Harapan’s Presidential Council considered the
matter at a meeting on 28 August 2017, the coalition issued a statement
saying it would break ties with PAS.

Given all the obstacles placed in the way of the Opposition—including

some that had yet to come to light—we were not surprised that this 67
kleptocratic Prime Minister remained confident of victory. On 26 April, he
told Bloomberg that he was expecting a “better result” than what he had
got in 2013, but there were also signs that Najib may have lost touch with
reality altogether as he also said that there was “no movement for changing
the Government”.

I once believed Najib to be a decent and capable leader, and at one time I
was even his mentor. But he turned into a monster. As everyone knew by
then, the US Justice Department had alleged in various civil lawsuits that
USD4.5 billion had been looted from 1MDB, an organisation that Najib
had set up and overseen. The idea of a thief like Najib serving yet another
term as Prime Minister was not something any Malaysian relished.

Sabotage!
On the morning of Friday, 27 April 2018—one day before nomination
day—I boarded a chartered flight to Langkawi at the Sultan Abdul Aziz
Shah Airport in Subang so that I could register as a candidate in the general
election. My plan was to arrive early before Friday prayers, but as we were
 CAPTURING

HOPE

preparing to depart the pilot said that we could not take off because there
was a problem with one of the wheels. Apparently, the aircraft was unable
to fly due to air leakage from the left-hand nose wheel. The pilot told me
he would try to get it fixed, but after some time he said that it could not be
repaired that day. I contacted three friends. They had their own private jets.
But they all said they could not help me. One of them even indicated that
he was under pressure not to help me.

I had flown in the same leased plane from the same charter company many
times before and never had any difficulty. That a problem like this should
have arisen the day before nomination day was very significant. If I had
not been able to go to Langkawi to file my nomination papers, I would not
have been able to stand for election, and consequently, all of the Pakatan
Harapan’s political arrangements would have been thrown into confusion.
So, combining the two facts—that the plane was damaged and could
not fly, and that I could not get my friends to help me out—I concluded
that there was a deliberate attempt to stop me from going to Langkawi. I
believed that someone was trying to arrange matters to ensure that I would
not be able to file my nomination papers. Eventually, I was able to contact
another friend who had chartered a plane to go to Singapore. I persuaded
68 him to let the plane take me to Langkawi instead.

My complaint that the plane had been deliberately tampered with was
quickly denied by the aviation authorities. Moreover, they said the problem
was “a minor and routine technical fault”. In reality, it was quite serious.
It meant that the front wheel could not be used to steer the plane, forcing it
to go off track when taking off or landing. I have flown thousands of times
in private jets and there has never been any serious incident that forced a
plane to be grounded. This was also the first time I had heard of damage to
a front wheel of an aircraft—sometimes there might be an engine fault, but
it could always be repaired in time. (For the record, the plane was not my
private jet. I do not have RM2.6 billion in my account to spend on private
jets or superyachts.)

I was not accusing the Civil Aviation Authority of Malaysia (CAAM) of

doing anything wrong. I knew that the CAAM had very tight security all
over the country to ensure that planes were not tampered with. The real
culprit was more likely linked to the Barisan Nasional. One of the tricks the
Barisan Nasional likes to use on nomination day is to prevent Opposition
party members being named as candidates. PKR Vice-President Tian Chua
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

had his nomination papers rejected on the dubious grounds that the Shah
Alam High Court had fined him RM2,000 on 2 March 2018 for insulting
a police officer the previous year. The returning officer refused to accept
the nomination despite the fact that both the Speaker of Parliament and
the High Court had stated that his conviction had not disqualified him as
an MP.

Under Malaysian law, an elected representative may be disqualified if

he or she is sentenced to prison for more than a year or fined more than
RM2,000. But with the courts refusing to reverse the High Court’s decision,
there was little Tian Chua could do. He then decided to endorse 22-year-
old independent candidate P. Prabakaran in his place. Then there was
the case of Pakatan Harapan candidate Dr Streram Sinnasamy, who was
unable to file his nomination papers because he was not allowed to enter the
nomination centre. Dr Streram was denied entry because he lacked a pass
from the EC. The result was that Negeri Sembilan Menteri Besar Datuk Seri
Mohamad Hasan, who was also Rembau UMNO Division Chairman, was
declared the winner by default. But an Election Commission pass is really
not necessary—I have never used the pass before. To be nominated and
named as a candidate, it has always been enough to present your identity
card. Four other Pakatan Harapan candidates were also prevented from 69
standing, ostensibly because they were undischarged bankrupts. This was
despite the fact that earlier checks showed that they would be able to stand.

But in Najib’s Malaysia, insisting on the truth can get you into trouble. It
was not long before Kuala Lumpur Chief Police Officer Comm. Datuk
Seri Mazlan Lazim announced that I was being investigated once again,
this time over my insistence that the jet in which I had planned to travel to
Langkawi had been sabotaged. Apparently, I had been making “wild and
false” claims for political gain. “We have opened an inquiry based on a
police report made against Mahathir,” Mazlan said on 2 May. And the law
I was supposed to have broken? The anti-fake news law, of course! But I
was not afraid of what might come. After all, I had been investigated many
times before. “Go ahead and charge me,” I told the police while speaking
at an Opposition rally in Putrajaya. “On 9 May we will take down this
kleptocratic Government led by one who is named Najib Razak.” It was a
bold prediction. It was also one which we in the Pakatan Harapan were not
entirely sure we could achieve.
 CAPTURING

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In the meantime, the EC devised yet another ruling to hobble the

Opposition. On 24 April, it declared that photos of party officials, apart
from those of the President and the Deputy President, could not be used
on campaign materials. EC Chairman Tan Sri Mohd Hashim Abdullah
said that the new guidelines were designed to ensure the election
campaign would be “peaceful, smooth and not confusing to voters,” but
it was obvious who the real target was. I was Chairman of both Bersatu
and the Pakatan Harapan—but since neither was officially registered as a
political grouping, my picture could not be used outside Langkawi where
I was a candidate. Photos of Anwar—who was still serving a jail term—
were also banned.

On the other hand, pictures of Najib could be put up anywhere because he

was Chairman of the Barisan Nasional. Pictures of his deputy, Dr Ahmad
Zahid, could also be displayed, as could those of PAS President Hadi
Awang and his deputy Datuk Seri Tuan Ibrahim Tuan Man. A picture of
national party leaders with a state Menteri Besar and a candidate could
also appear on the same campaign poster.

The new rules were announced at the last minute, after the Opposition
70 had already printed its campaign materials. Once the election campaign
began, Pakatan Harapan campaign workers put up some of them anyway
but they were either taken down or quickly “edited” by the authorities.
There was a giant billboard in Yong Peng, a town in the southern state of
Johor, that gained particular notoriety. The billboard had a picture of me
flanked by two local candidates—but enforcement officers cut out my face
and left a gaping hole in its place. The effect was hilarious and probably did
a lot to underline a key point Najib was trying to suppress, namely that I
was the Pakatan Harapan’s candidate for Prime Minister. Before-and-after
photographs (and even videos) of the resulting censorship certainly spread
rapidly on the internet, and in some places, the Pakatan Harapan decided
to replace my image with a question mark. The whole thing backfired on
the Barisan Nasional as people started asking why the EC still refused
to register Bersatu. In their eyes, it revealed the petty and mean-spirited
agenda of Najib’s Government.

On the campaign trail

Many observers were saying that Najib’s gerrymandering would ensure
a win for the Barisan Nasional. But just before polling day there was a
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

sliver of hope. A survey published by Merdeka Center, an opinion and

polling research firm, suggested that the results were too close to call. The
Barisan Nasional, the pollster said, looked like it would be successful in
100 constituencies while the Opposition would win 83. With those sorts
of numbers, neither side would have the 112 seats required to form the
Government. The results would depend on the 37 seats that Merdeka
Center said could not be predicted. It was the first tangible indication from
an independent source that the Pakatan Harapan might really win. Even
so, Merdeka Center agreed with the consensus: “We anticipate that the
Barisan Nasional will prevail in the election.”

We continued, undeterred. I had to do what I could to make sure I was

seen everywhere. In his newspaper column, Karim Raslan, a political
commentator, wrote: “The speakers—including a surprisingly nimble 92-
year-old [that’s me!]—would clamber onto the back of trucks or
makeshift stages and launch into their invective. While the quality of their
oratory varied, the boldness of their rhetoric after years of obfuscation was
a breath of fresh air.”

Well, we got quite a lot of fresh air, literally. I’m not sure about “nimble”—I
was coughing off and on but I was still able to speak to the crowds. Reporters 71
asked if I felt my age, but I’m not sure—how is a nonagenarian supposed
to feel? In any case, we set up stages and loudspeakers anywhere from the
middle of open fields to the spaces between high-rise apartment blocks.
We would cram into the smallest sites, where people would still come,
rain or shine, to hear what we had to say. And the rallies were huge: up
to 100,000 people came to our rally in Penang. Penang was home ground
but even in Kuantan, Pahang, some 40,000 people turned up. These rallies
were where we gauged our support—we looked at the people who turned
up, their behaviour, whether they cheered or not. If we had a rally at night,
people would get out their mobile phones and shine their lights to show
their support. Standing on the stage, you would see the whole place lit up.
What a spectacular sight indeed. Many also donated money, which was
unheard of at Barisan Nasional rallies; and everywhere I went, I received
a rousing welcome. My daughter Marina, who accompanied my wife and
me to most of these rallies, said, “This is what it’s like on this side. You’ve
always been on the other side—the Government side—so you’ve never had
the chance to see this.”
 CAPTURING

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It was true. This was new to me. An article in The Edge even described me
as a rock star: “When he turns up, it gets even more electric. His arrival
is greeted with thunderous cheers and chants of “Hidup Tun” [“Long live
Tun”] and “I love you Tun” […] this for a man that many in the crowd
might have called a dictator years back. How things have changed.” Others
called me a “game-changer”. To me, this was politics—sometimes you are
popular, sometimes you are not. We were nevertheless thankful for the
numbers that turned up. It was as if everyone was there, trying to make
whatever change they could, not for me, but to help save the country.

Speaking to ordinary Malaysians at these events, I avoided jargon and

technical details, especially when talking about the tangled mess of 1MDB.
I used simple language to explain what was meant by “kleptocracy”—
when your own government is stealing from you. Removing the Barisan
Nasional Government of Thieves was the key goal, and we needed a big
majority to do so—a razor-thin majority would create a lot of instability as
the other side could resort to cheating. So, the main thing at these rallies
was communication and I kept the message simple. If you use words that
people don’t understand, you’re not communicating. You have to carry
your ideas to people who are not literary specialists.
72
I have also seen others shouting things such as “Betul atau tidak?” (“Do
you agree?”) to get a reaction from the audience. I never did that. My fear
is that if you ask that kind of question, one day the audience might not
respond! So, I avoid that kind of thing. I just say what I want to say and
say it clearly, without raising my voice. I talk plainly, and actually nobody
claps. When I give a speech, I don’t get a rousing response and all that,
except very occasionally. The main thing is to put across your ideas to
the people, and that requires speaking the language of your audience. At
a rally where the crowd is primarily Malay, using an English quotation
won’t work. But if you say “kais pagi makan pagi, kais petang makan petang”,
everyone understands that it means poverty: what you earn is enough only
to last you a meal, and you have nothing to spare or save (in other words,
living from hand to mouth).

This is how I’ve always spoken, since I was a schoolboy. I remember going
to the kampungs to campaign against the Malayan Union. If you said
“Malayan Union”, no one would have understood. You had to explain
the concepts in Malay and you had to use plain language. At that time,
education was low, because for most villagers they felt that education did
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

not improve their productivity. They were doing what their parents and
grandparents had done to survive. These were the people I met, and they
were the people who would vote. The principle is exactly the same today:
Speak the language of the people who are listening to you.

In the course of these rallies, I also had to account for my actions in

promoting Najib as Prime Minister. I apologised. I told them it was the
biggest mistake I had ever made.

9 May 2018—the day things changed

Finally, the day arrived for 14.5 million eligible voters to decide whether
they should continue supporting a thief as their leader or take the challenge
of saving the country and steering it back to the right course.

The night before, Najib told his supporters in his home town of Pekan,
Pahang, that “Barisan Nasional is a party that looks forward—a party of
the future and for the future. We are not a party of the past and we don’t play
around with leaders who have retired.” Meanwhile I, his challenger and the
oldest contestant in the election, also delivered a speech at my final rally in
73
Langkawi. The plan was to reach out to 10 million voters via live streaming
through Facebook. I knew this would frighten the Barisan Nasional and
that they would do everything possible to put a stop to my speech.

The stakes were very high. As one foreign observer pointed out, “Whoever
wins gets to lead Southeast Asia’s third-largest economy for the next five
years, distribute and utilise its rich resources and determine the future of
some 30 million residents and taxpayers.”3 In addition, if the Pakatan
Harapan was the victor, the 1MDB financial scandal would come out
into the open, placing Najib in the very tight spot of having to explain
everything. Up till then, anyone who spoke about this in public would be
silenced, sacked, ostracised or punished one way or the other. And now,
Najib was promising the earth and the sky. On the eve of polling day, he
said, “To all young people aged 26 years and below, we will give an income
tax exemption from the year of assessment 2017 and subsequent years
with immediate effect.” Those who had already paid taxes the year before
would be reimbursed. Najib also promised to make 14–15 May public
holidays and, on top of that, if the Barisan Nasional won the election,
3
Retrieved from: [Link]
election-najib-promises- holidays-tax-exemptions-ge14-10214840
 CAPTURING

HOPE

all highways would be toll-free for five days in June during the Hari Raya
Aidilfitri period. I was told that between 28 April and 8 May, his election
promises exceeded USD159 million in value.

I believe that they had this money, and they also had more to buy votes. In
comparison, the Pakatan Harapan spent only RM23 million on the entire
General Election of 2018, which is a very small amount. We depended on
explaining to the people the problems that we faced as a nation, and why
Malaysia was in danger of being destroyed by corruption. We used reason,
not money. And we were up against an incumbent Government that had
access to funds as well as the ability to abuse the machinery of government
to put obstacles in our way. For me and for all Malaysians, our concerns
were simple: we wanted to secure our lives and our future from the corrupt
clutches of Najib and his associates. I told the crowd at my final rally: “I
realise I am old and I don’t have much time left, but this is the last time I
can contribute to the struggle of the country. I am not looking for riches,
positions or titles. I have enough, but what I value is our people, race and
religion. What we need is to vote out a Government that is devoted to cash.
That is all we need, and that is enough for me.”

74 On 8 May, I arrived at my family home in Titi Gajah, 11km from Alor

Setar, the state capital of Kedah. This is where I was born and where
Hasmah and I lived for many years with our children. This is also where I
had initially registered to vote and even though I’d been in Kuala Lumpur
all these years, I never changed my voting address and would return to Titi
Gajah for every general election.

That night, I didn’t sleep very well. I was thinking about all the things
that could go wrong. I had to make sure I voted properly, as some people
make it their business to find ways to invalidate one’s vote. On election and
nomination days, there are always sharp eyes looking out for mistakes. Once,
in a previous election, my staff filled in my nomination form incorrectly,
and my candidacy was very nearly rejected. Thankfully, somebody noticed,
and we managed to make the corrections before giving it back to the officer
in charge. We have to read word by word to make sure that everything is in
place, because mistakes can be made—some people even claim that their
staff can be paid off to cheat. As all this played on my mind, I didn’t sleep
too much and woke up earlier than usual on polling day.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

After breakfast, my usual egg and toast, I went to the polling station. The
most important thing was to vote (in favour of my coalition, of course).
I was anxious. I quickly dipped my right finger in the indelible ink only
to realise that everyone had it on their left fingers. In any case it was not
something that would disqualify you, so I took my voting slip and added
my pangkah (cross) on it. After Hasmah and I cast our ballots, we flew to
Langkawi where I met my supporters. They had gathered there to tell me
that they had voted for me. I was glad I chose to stand in Langkawi as I
knew most of the people there. Many were old friends from my early days
as a doctor there. And they had insisted that I stand in Langkawi.

Throughout the country, even before polling officially began at 8am,

there were long queues of voters forming outside voting centres. It was
reassuring to see this as we had hoped for a high voter turnout. But as the
day progressed, I received reports that the voting process was not efficiently
done. By early afternoon many voters were concerned that they would not
get a chance to vote before polling officially ended at 5pm. They were right
to be worried. Despite a joint appeal to the Elections Commission by Dr
Wan Azizah, Bersatu President Tan Sri Muhyiddin Yassin and myself,
even voters who had queued up since 3pm were not able to vote if their
names were not called before the cut-off time. 75

Quite naturally, they were angry at being denied their rights. At a school
in Petaling Jaya, Selangor, which was a designated polling centre for the
Petaling Jaya parliamentary and Taman Medan state constituencies, voters
queuing up outside were shut out at 5pm. Another 26 who were still inside
the compound refused to leave after they were told they could not vote.
Many had apparently been waiting since 2pm. Meanwhile, hundreds of
people who had already voted gathered outside the school gate, urging
those inside to stand their ground. Police and Federal Reserve Unit
personnel were called in. The crowd only dispersed when Pakatan Harapan
candidates persuaded them to do so. Was the slow polling deliberate? Or
was it just the result of incompetence? It is hard to say. On 7 May, Bersih
UK had organised a demonstration by overseas Malaysians angry that
they had still not received their ballot papers. How could they return them
by 5pm on 9 May? There were also reports that in some polling centres,
such as Taman Bukit Serdang (Petaling Jaya) and Setapak, ballot boxes for
state and federal elections were mixed up so that parliamentary votes were
placed in boxes meant for the state and vice versa.
 CAPTURING

HOPE

With all these problems weighing on my mind, I flew back to KL. I knew
that there wouldn’t be an opportunity to rest until the following morning,
so to conserve my energy, I rested at home until it was time to go to the
Sheraton Hotel in Petaling Jaya where my coalition party members had
gathered. We were expecting the results to come in by about 8pm onwards.
Together with my wife, we sat and chatted with several other members.
Every now and then there would be an announcement. But it seemed that
only the Barisan Nasional was winning. Was this an indication that we
were in trouble?

Unofficial results started trickling in four hours after the ballot boxes were
closed. For a country as developed as we were, this was slow. It gave rise
to all manner of speculation. On social media, people were expressing
their exasperation. In the mainstream media, it was Karim Raslan who
articulated this anger when he chided the EC Chairman. As an election
observer on the local TV channel Astro Awani that evening, he asked:
“What are you doing? You should just resign. If you can’t take the heat,
get out of there. You have done the most shameful thing. You have let us
all down (and) the people of Malaysia.”

76 With the results coming in in dribs and drabs, Karim said, “We’ve all been
waiting for you to make these announcements […] This is despicable.
Absolutely appalling, and what I would like to know is what are the
pressures behind you? Who’s whispering in your ear? This is the kind
of ridiculous rubbish that we have to see at the end of today. Just tell it
straight. We are a very mature, sensible people. We’ll just move on.”

The EC Chairman brushed off these stinging comments by saying, “Of

course, the public is waiting and we fully understand this. But please give us
a bit of time to make an official announcement. Please don’t worry. There
is no conspiracy. We will make a declaration immediately. We ask the
public to be patient.” What was probably happening was that the Election
Commission was being prevented from announcing the Opposition’s
victories in individual constituencies.

Meanwhile, spam calls targeting handphones belonging to Pakatan

Harapan leaders were disrupting communications. In fact, it was so bad
that at one point we lost contact with our polling agents. To make matters
worse, the Malaysian Communications and Multimedia Commission
(MCMC) ordered local internet service providers (ISPs) to censor several
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

sites providing unofficial “live” updates and results for the polls. The
sites that were blocked included [Link], [Link],
and [Link]. According to the Malay Mail, a day later, the order to the
ISPs came at 9.13pm when it became increasingly clear that the Barisan
Nasional was in trouble. However, the MCMC alleged that the sites had
violated Section 233 of the Communications and Multimedia Act, which
referred to the “improper use of network facilities or network services”.

The Barisan Nasional leaders started falling from about 9pm. The Malaysian
national media agency Bernama reported that caretaker Transport Minister
Datuk Seri Liow Tiong Lai, who was also President of the Malaysian
Chinese Association (MCA), had lost his Bentong seat to PKR’s Wong
Tack. Caretaker Health Minister Datuk Seri Dr S. Subramaniam of the
Malaysian Indian Congress (MIC) was the next major casualty, losing his
Segamat seat in Johor to PKR’s Datuk Seri Dr R. Santhara Kumar. Both
the MCA and MIC were founding members of the Barisan Nasional, and
together with UMNO they had been forming the Government of Malaya
and subsequently Malaysia since 1955.

At 9.30pm, word came that Najib had successfully defended his Pekan
seat in Pahang. Fifteen minutes later, we heard that four Deputy Ministers 77
had fallen. Around the same time—9.45pm—I was informed that I had
won in Langkawi, allowing me to return to Parliament. Then, the tide
truly changed. Everywhere, it seemed, the Barisan Nasional was losing
ground as seats were falling, one by one, but official confirmation was still
excruciatingly slow. Was the delay in announcing the official results due to
the EC’s refusal to sign off on the poll after the ballots had been counted?

At 11.50pm, we heard that the Pakatan Harapan had captured six states—
Penang, Selangor, Melaka, Negeri Sembilan, Johor and Kedah. It was also
around this time that we discovered, again through our own channels, that
we had won! We had more than the required 112 parliamentary seats to
form the Government. This was exhilarating news. We were euphoric but
we chose to remain cautious as the figures could change or our supporters
could have made a mistake.

There are so many ways to cheat and steal. In one case, one of our members
in Penang had won the vote until an extra ballot box suddenly appeared
out of nowhere. He was then declared the loser by 200 votes. This was
not uncommon and it had happened in several places in the past, so we
 CAPTURING

HOPE

decided to wait for the official announcement. Fortunately, though, I am

used to this kind of strain. When I was younger, I could give three-hour
speeches and even take questions after that. Even when I was a doctor
in private practice, I seldom had enough sleep. Sometimes, in the early
hours of the morning, someone would call and I would have to drive to
the kampung to attend to them. This has always been my way of life. I can
work at odd hours because when I have something to accomplish, I’ll just
do it until it is done.

Well after midnight, the EC finally confirmed that the Pakatan Harapan
had crossed the minimum threshold of 112 seats needed to form the
Government. As all this was going on, the leaders of the Barisan Nasional
held a closed-door meeting at Najib’s private residence in KL. Almost
immediately after the EC’s confirmation, there was speculation that the
defeated Government would declare a state of emergency in an attempt
to cling to power. Declaring an emergency by using the National Security
Council Act passed in 2016 would enable Najib to rule the country by
decree. However, to do this, he needed the support of the security forces.
When Ferdinand Marcos ruled the Philippines as dictator, he had the
support of army and police chiefs. But when he arranged for Benigno
78 Aquino Jr. (a prominent Opposition leader) to be assassinated, the chiefs
withdrew their support. That was when the people took to the streets and
demanded Marcos’ removal as President. This “people power” movement
was successful because Marcos lost the support of the security forces. In
Malaysia in early 2018, the Inspector-General of Police and the Chief of
the Armed Forces were supporters of Najib—or, at the very least, they
were compliant. This was indicated by the fact that even when the Prime
Minister clearly broke the law, they appeared unconcerned.

At the various ceramah during the election campaign, I urged officers and
other ranks in the police and armed forces to vote for the Pakatan Harapan.
But their support would not have been enough if their superiors refused to
act in a way that reflected the people’s wishes. Najib’s misrule was far more
serious than that of Marcos, and the question was whether the security
forces would continue to support him if he seized power following the
election. That was why, during the campaign period, I kept reminding
Malaysians that we needed an overwhelming victory. Anything less would
result in a hung parliament and this would destabilise the country further. In
the end, we garnered a majority. It wasn’t two-thirds but it was big enough
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

to force the Election Commission to stop delaying the announcement of

the results.

Najib did not make any statement to the media on election night, explaining
much later that he was too “traumatised” and “in a state of shock”. But he
did telephone Anwar twice. Anwar said that Najib was “totally shattered”
but the Prime Minister did not make any obvious attempt to negotiate a
deal or try to get Anwar to shift his allegiance. “I advised him as a friend to
concede and move on,” Anwar told Reuters when he related the incident a
week later. We did discover that Najib was trying to form an alliance with
PAS, which was in the Opposition but not part of the Pakatan Harapan. He
was trying to win their support in order to have enough numbers to form
the Government. But even with PAS, he still couldn’t muster the numbers.

At 2.04am, the Election Commission confirmed that Johor, the birthplace

of UMNO, had fallen to the Pakatan Harapan. We captured 29 seats while
the Barisan Nasional took 16 and PAS won only one seat. At that point,
there were still 10 seats in the balance. The tally allowed the Pakatan
Harapan to form the state government with a simple majority in the 56-
seat assembly. Official results for Perak came next at 2.20am. There was a
hung assembly there: the Barisan Nasional had 27 seats, and the Pakatan 79
Harapan had 29. PAS had three. Thirty state seats were required to form a
simple-majority state government in Perak but we managed to resolve this
soon after.

By 2.30am, at the Federal level, the Pakatan Harapan and its allies had
acquired 114 seats, the Barisan Nasional 74, PAS 17 and independent
candidates had three. There were still 14 seats unknown. From the Barisan
Nasional side, only UMNO Youth Chief Khairy Jamaluddin made an
announcement. He said the coalition would “accept the will of the people
but the Prime Minister will be issuing a statement […] Whatever it is, we
need to respect the will of the people and we need to make sure the election
result is respected, and we move on,” he told reporters.

Soon after, we held a Press conference to announce that we would be

forming the Government. The Palace had requested the presence of Dr
Wan Azizah, as the leader of PKR (the party we had all contested under).
When reporters asked what I would do about Najib, I said that we were not
seeking revenge. We just wanted to restore the rule of law. I then declared
Thursday and Friday public holidays, with Sunday as a replacement for
 CAPTURING

HOPE

states which had their weekend on Fridays and Saturdays. The final turnout
was estimated at 76 per cent of registered voters, well below the record 85
per cent that voted in 2013.

At around 3am, I received a call from Najib. He said, “Congratulations,

you’ve won.” He did not sound too happy.

By 3.30am, official results showed that the Pakatan Harapan and its allies
were leading by 118 to 79 parliamentary seats—before Parliament was
dissolved, the Barisan Nasional held 131 seats. The EC also announced
that eight state governments could be formed with simple majorities, half
of them by the Pakatan Harapan. The Barisan Nasional retained Perlis
and Pahang; PAS, which also had 18 parliamentary seats, won in Kelantan
and Terengganu. The Pakatan Harapan took Johor, Melaka and Negeri
Sembilan from the Barisan Nasional while also retaining Penang and
Selangor. Unfortunately, Perak and Kedah state assemblies were hung,
with the Pakatan Harapan having one seat short of a simple majority.
The Pakatan Harapan’s targeted campaign in Johor, the birthplace of
ruling party UMNO, surprised us. The Barisan Nasional and several of
its Ministers and Deputy Ministers, including MCA Vice-President Datuk
80 Chua Tee Yong in Labis, were all defeated.

The Pakatan Harapan component parties—PKR and the DAP—officially

crossed the victory threshold at around 4am and it was closer to dawn
at 4.50am when the full results were declared. The Pakatan Harapan
secured 113 parliamentary seats, while our ally Parti Warisan Sabah won
eight parliamentary seats. The EC chief said that the Barisan Nasional
won 79 seats and PAS 18. The Sabah state party Star took one seat, and
independent candidates won three seats.

After the Press conference, Hasmah and I went home. I kept reminding
myself that we had won. It was still a surprise to me because winning
meant that I would become the Prime Minister again, something I had not
anticipated at all. Many people asked if we had celebrations at the house
that morning. There was nothing like that for me and Hasmah. By the time
we got home, it was well past our bedtime so we went to sleep.

The aftermath
The analyses and commentary came swiftly after that. Reuters reported
that “a popular revolt among the Malays, who account for more than 70
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

per cent of the population of about 32 million, was key to why Najib’s
coalition lost. Analysts say the Barisan Nasional was too complacent about
the Malay support it always enjoyed. The Government had expected the
Islamist party, PAS, to get hardly any parliament seats but still split the
opposition vote in its favour. But, as it turned out, PAS won 18 seats, which
meant it actually took Malay votes from Najib’s Barisan Nasional.”

Some people believed that appointing me as Chairman of the Pakatan

Harapan also contributed to the Opposition’s victory. Analysts said it
significantly reduced the fear that rural Malays had towards the Opposition.
In previous elections, Opposition parties like the DAP and PKR had
struggled to penetrate the rural heartland. Up until the 2018 General
Election, these had been untouchable Barisan Nasional strongholds.
But was the “Malay swing” towards the Pakatan Harapan signalling a
fundamental shift in Malaysian politics? Was the country moving away
from race-based politics, some asked. After all, the DAP, in particular, had
long been accused of propagating anti-Malay policies, leading to fears
in some segments of the Malay community that Malay privileges would
be abolished if the Pakatan Harapan were to come into power. Some
commentators argued that the Barisan Nasional’s defeat was the result of a
larger “Malaysian swing”. In Sarawak, for instance, the DAP doubled their 81
seat count from five to 12. In Sabah, the newly formed Opposition party
Warisan won eight seats, with the Pakatan Harapan picking up six seats
as well. What a huge difference from the previous general election in 2013
when the Barisan Nasional won 47 of 56 parliamentary seats in Sabah and
Sarawak. This time, that number fell to 29.

I was most amused by the comments of Ibrahim Suffian of Merdeka

Center, who said that the 2018 General Election results “left egg on
pollsters’ and pundits’ faces as most failed to foresee Pakatan Harapan’s
unlikely victory, instead predicting that the Barisan Nasional would cling
on with a reduced majority.” Ibrahim admitted that the outcome both
stumped him and bruised his ego. Many analysts were just blindsided
largely because a significant portion of their survey respondents, especially
Malays, had refused to talk about their political sentiments. Nearly one in
three Malay respondents had declined to state which coalition they would
be voting for. When it came to Chinese voters, it was clear from the start
that they were against the Barisan Nasional, especially UMNO, and that
it was going to be another “Chinese tsunami”. But when the Malays were
asked by pollsters, many said they were still “undecided”. Right up to 9
May, very few Malays spoke openly about which party they would support
 CAPTURING

HOPE

at the elections. Ibrahim felt that there was a cultural factor at play. “A lot
of people don’t want to talk. They can talk about political issues, but when
it comes to their choice of who they would vote for, they don’t want to talk
about it,” he said.

I felt there were other reasons for the silence. The Malay voting base can
be divided into three categories. The first are those whose families have
been voting for UMNO for 60 years. To ask them to vote for any other
party is very difficult. They will tell you that their father, grandfather and
everybody voted for UMNO. And if they live in rural areas, they have
a certain mindset that is very comfortable with UMNO. Next, there are
Malays who may have some doubts about things, but are still reluctant
to vote for someone other than UMNO. Finally, we have people who
are a little bit more open-minded, who have seen and felt the effects of
Government mismanagement—business owners and professionals, for
example. They don’t get the kind of help they need. These were the ones
we thought would be willing to vote against the Barisan Nasional. We felt
that we needed a 10 per cent to 20 per cent swing to overturn the normal
results, so we worked on that basis.

82 I’ve been asked if the Pakatan Harapan had expected to lose the election,
and I must admit that the thought crossed my mind many times. The
previous Government had been very powerful and we didn’t have the
money or power of incumbency to help us win. If we had lost, we would
have just moved back into the Opposition, which was nothing new for us.
But if we thought we could lose, I think the Barisan Nasional was shocked
when they did not emerge victorious. And they lost by such a big margin
that they were caught off guard and did not know what to do.

From the outside, the world saw a peaceful transition of power. On the
inside, as I told the New Straits Times in an interview later: “It was not very
smooth [...] We had lots of difficulties, including attempts from within to
reject our success, but in the end better sense prevailed.” I believe political
manoeuvring caused the delay in the official announcements of the general
election results. We knew we had won by 8.30pm, but we didn’t get the
official announcement until much later because during that period there was
a lot happening behind the scenes which was not visible to people generally.

To some extent, the work done by organisations like Bersih helped

strengthen the voting process. They organised large rallies, insisted on
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

transparent plexiglass ballot boxes, demanded that the counting of ballots

be done in the polling room (as opposed to being transported to a centralised
counting centre) and pushed for the use of indelible ink to prevent repeat
voting. This made it harder for those who wanted to cheat. That said, in the
final analysis I believe it wasn’t so much a vote for the Pakatan Harapan as
much as it was a vote against the Barisan Nasional. We won not because
the people loved or supported us. We won because they wanted to get rid
of Najib.

Prime Minister… in waiting

The next day, we assumed that I would be sworn in as Prime Minister at
Istana Negara at 9.30am. This is the usual protocol, but to our surprise,
the audience with the Yang di-Pertuan Agong, Sultan Muhammad V, was
postponed. The Palace’s communications officer said that the Agong had
“yet to set a date for the ceremony”, and this was reported on TV.

At 11am, Najib held a Press conference at the UMNO headquarters at the

Putra World Trade Centre. The Agong, Najib said, would determine who
the next Prime Minister would be because no single party had a simple
83
majority. “According to the Constitution, it will be based on who has the
confidence of the majority in the Dewan Rakyat,” he declared, before
adding, “We trust the wisdom of the Agong to make the best choice.” It
did not sound as if he was conceding defeat at all! But everyone knew that
the Pakatan Harapan had contested in the election as a coalition, even if it
was not strictly true in the legal sense.

In response, I called a Press conference around midday to urge that the

new Government be sworn in as soon as possible because the nation was
without leadership. Besides, with the country in such a mess, there was
a lot of work to be done. The delay in swearing in a new Prime Minister
was probably due to two factors: the first was fatigue caused by the late
announcement of voting results. The second factor was confusion over
what the Federal Constitution said about who should be Prime Minister.
Some of Najib’s acolytes were trying to argue that the Constitution
required that the leader of the largest or dominant party be Prime Minister.
(Although the Barisan Nasional had been defeated, UMNO was still the
biggest party in Parliament.) But the rule merely said that the person with
the support of the largest number of elected Members of Parliament
should be Prime Minister.
 CAPTURING

HOPE

“I want to emphasise that this party via Pakatan Harapan has already
won a clear majority,” I told the Press. “The Constitution says that the
Prime Minister should have the support of a majority of the Members of
Parliament. It does not say it should have the support of any party.” I also
announced the leaders of the four parties forming the Pakatan Harapan.
At 5pm I was granted an audience with the Agong, but instead of being
sworn in as Prime Minister, the Agong merely wanted assurances from
me and the other Pakatan Harapan leaders that I really did command the
support of the majority of the Members of Parliament.

To this day, I am not entirely sure why it took many hours before the
ceremony could begin. There was a lot of speculation, some quite bizarre.
The Palace was quick to refute claims that the Yang di-Pertuan Agong
was delaying the ceremony on purpose. The Comptroller of the Royal
Household, Datuk Wan Ahmad Dahlan Abdul Aziz, said in a statement:
“His Majesty has faithfully carried out his duties and functions in
accordance with the Federal Constitution in appointing Tun Dr Mahathir
as Prime Minister. His Majesty strongly supports and respects the
democratic process and the wishes of his subjects.”

84 Istana Negara confirmed that it had received the letter from Pakatan
Harapan component party leaders at 1.38pm supporting my appointment
as Prime Minister. The Istana also received the official results from the
Election Commission at 2.45pm. Sultan Muhammad then met PKR
President Datuk Seri Dr Wan Azizah, Bersatu President Muhyiddin, DAP
Secretary-General Lim Guan Eng and Amanah President Mohamad Sabu
at 5pm after verifying the documents.

He offered the post of Prime Minister to Wan Azizah but she told him that
it had been decided by the coalition that I would be the Prime Minister. He
then called Mohamad Sabu to speak to him. Whatever was discussed, it
took him a long time to make the next move. I also discovered much later
that there had been suggestions made to the King that I should not become
the Prime Minister, and that he should appoint someone else. There may
have even been suggestions that the Pakatan Harapan didn’t actually win
the election. The other side was apparently still trying to gather enough
people to prove that they had the majority. All this could have influenced
the Agong, but there was also pressure on him from the other Rulers who
thought that he should acknowledge the fact that I had won and that I
should be sworn in as Prime Minister. It is not very well known but it is
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

believed that the Rulers did not like the delay. One Ruler apparently took
the initiative to contact the other Rulers to advise the Agong to swear in
the Pakatan Harapan candidate as Prime Minister. There was no attempt
to block my appointment by any of the Rulers.

Meanwhile, I was feeling more and more unhappy. At around 8pm, I

wanted to leave. DAP leader Gobind Singh Deo, who eventually became
the Minister of Communications and Multimedia, stopped me. “No, no,
no,” he said. “Just wait.” So, I did. I waited. If not for Gobind, I would have
gone home and that would have thrown everything into chaos. Another
Prime Minister would have had to be appointed. Not only that, the new
candidate would have needed the backing of the majority. At the time, I
had 150 MPs supporting me. It was somewhat ironic that Gobind was the
one who stopped me from leaving. His father, the late Karpal Singh, was
detained under the ISA during my first administration as Prime Minister,
but not once did Gobind refer to the past and what had happened to his
father. I was sure it was on his mind. But I think all of us, when we joined
together as the Pakatan Harapan, had made a conscious effort to let go of
the past. I regard Gobind as Gobind, not as the son of Karpal.

Shortly after, the Palace finally issued a statement that I would be sworn in 85
as Prime Minister at 9.30pm. When I finally walked out, the people who
had been waiting for so many hours started cheering and waving at me. I
was Prime Minister for 22 years before this but I had never encountered a
spontaneous show of excitement and joy by the people. I did not cry. But
I felt sesak dada (a tightness in the chest) as the Malays would say. It was
heart-warming and I felt good.
 CAPTURING
HOPE

Chapter 5
A Doctor Back in the House

I was apprehensive about taking the job of Prime Minister for the second
time. When I first assumed the responsibility in 1981, there were no major
issues to consider because the government machinery was largely intact.
As Prime Minister, all I had to do was fill the vacancies in the Cabinet. But
in May 2018, I was faced with the enormous task of restructuring almost
the entire Government, and I also had to ensure that everything we did
was consistent with the people’s wishes. Malaysians were unhappy with
the way Datuk Seri Najib Razak and his henchmen had been running the
country. The people believed that many things had been done wrongly,
and they would certainly hold us to our promise to address many of these
issues within our first 100 days in office.

One of the immediate challenges was to find ways of dealing with the
large number of senior civil servants who had actively favoured the Barisan
Nasional at the general election. In fact, the entire government machinery
had been subverted—some senior officers had been caught on video
86 wearing Barisan Nasional T-shirts at political rallies. Would these people
now be willing to serve the country as professional and non-partisan
administrators? We didn’t know.

There was also a pressing need to ensure an effective separation of powers

among the legislative, executive and judicial branches of Government.
Najib had exercised almost complete control over these institutions,
and some of the officers involved had to be removed and new officers
appointed. But I did not know who among them remained untainted and
who had to be replaced. To do this, I sought the help of others, including a
“Council of Eminent Persons” which I had set up within days of becoming
Prime Minister. Other urgent issues included the official investigation into
the 1Malaysia Development Berhad scandal, abolishing the Goods and
Services Tax, securing a royal pardon for Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim, and,
because the Government was saddled with large borrowings, we had to
find ways to reduce the fiscal deficit and the national debt.

Two weeks before the general election, I had announced that if the
Pakatan Harapan won, the new Government would declare 10 and 11 May
(Thursday and Friday) national holidays, thus producing a long weekend.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

The idea was not to give everyone a chance to celebrate. Rather, it was
designed to give us time to reassure the business community that political
stability would be maintained. We needed time to assess the damage
done by the previous Government and also take initial steps to establish
our new administration. So, after being sworn in as Prime Minister on
Thursday, 10 May 2018, I began work immediately, operating from my
office at the Perdana Leadership Foundation in Putrajaya. I had been
using this office ever since I stepped down as Prime Minister in 2003. I
felt very comfortable there. I really did not look forward to moving to the
formal office of the Prime Minister. The first five or six days were packed
with back-to-back meetings and discussions with various people, including
Pakatan Harapan leaders. Even so, I managed to squeeze in a visit to the
Cheras Rehabilitation Hospital in Kuala Lumpur to meet Anwar, who was
still recuperating from surgery. It wasn’t until 23 May that I moved to the
Prime Minister’s Office in Perdana Putra.

The Pakatan Harapan Cabinet

On 12 May, I announced my intention to name several senior leaders of the
Pakatan Harapan to the new Cabinet. One move that attracted comment—
87
although it was hardly a surprise—was my decision to appoint Lim Guan
Eng as Finance Minister. The announcement was significant: since the
independence of Malaya in 1957, this would be the third time that the
post had gone to someone from the Chinese community. Besides, I had
confidence in Guan Eng’s ability to perform well—after all, he strengthened
the finances of the state of Penang when he was Chief Minister and this was
a skill we badly needed in order to deal with the financial problems created
by Najib’s Government. Based on all this, I didn’t expect any trouble over
his appointment but the new Opposition seized on this to accuse me of
being controlled by the DAP. The allegation was played up by UMNO so
relentlessly that I was unable to counter them.

I also announced that Tan Sri Muhyiddin Yassin would be Home Affairs
Minister. As a former Deputy Prime Minister, he had a very good
understanding of how the Government worked at both the state and
federal levels. Initially Muhyiddin felt unhappy at not being made Finance
Minister. I couldn’t understand why—to me, the post of Home Affairs
Minister was very important. It is second to that of Prime Minister, and
when I was Prime Minister the first time around, I would also hold either
the Defence or Home Affairs portfolio, with the Deputy Prime Minister
 CAPTURING

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holding the other post. For example, if I was Defence Minister, the Deputy
Prime Minister would be in charge of Home Affairs. If I held the Home
Affairs portfolio, my deputy would be Defence Minister. So, Muhyiddin
held a very significant position as Home Affairs Minister. To be honest,
he was never known as a great financial administrator. In fact, I don’t
remember him ever having served in the Finance Ministry. After sulking
for some time, he accepted the post of Home Affairs Minister.

Then there was Mohamad Sabu (everyone calls him “Mat Sabu”), who was
President of Parti Amanah Negara. As leader of Amanah, Mat Sabu had
no experience in government but he had been active in politics for a very
long time. I named him Defence Minister, and as previously agreed among
the Pakatan Harapan component parties, Datuk Seri Dr Wan Azizah Wan
Ismail was appointed Deputy Prime Minister—and she would also hold
the portfolio of Women, Family and Community Development. As leader
of PKR, she should be the DPM and what I wanted above all was for us to
work together and not fight with one another.

In the following days I began receiving lists of additional names from

the leaders of the Pakatan Harapan component parties for consideration
88 as Cabinet Ministers. At first, I thought of holding a second portfolio
myself—Education interested me particularly—but after consulting with
my Pakatan colleagues, I realised it would not be consistent with our
manifesto, which stated that the Prime Minister should not hold any other
portfolio, and so I appointed Dr Maszlee Malik instead. Next, about a
week later on Friday, 18 May, I announced several more key Cabinet
appointments. The list included PKR Deputy President Datuk Seri
Mohamed Azmin Ali (Economic Affairs) and DAP Deputy Chairman
Gobind Singh Deo (Communications and Multimedia). I also chose
PKR Wanita Chief Datuk Zuraida Kamaruddin (Housing and Local
Government), DAP National Organising Secretary Anthony Loke Siew
Fook (Transport) and DAP Vice-Chairman M. Kulasegaran (Human
Resources), as well as Amanah Deputy President Datuk Seri Salahuddin
Ayub (Agriculture and Agro-based Industries), Amanah Strategic Director
Datuk Seri Dr Dzulkefly Ahmad (Health) and Datuk Seri Rina Harun of
Bersatu (Rural Development).

The Pakatan Harapan’s representation in the Cabinet was not intended

to show the relative strength of each party—instead, I wanted Cabinet
members to have an equal voice, so each component party was represented
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

by six Ministers. Even though the DAP had more than 40 seats and Bersatu
won only 13 seats, both ended up with six representatives in the Cabinet—
and there was no protest from the DAP about this. PKR was given six as
well, although Amanah had five seats in the Cabinet. I sought to balance
the strengths of the different parties in the Cabinet, and eventually I also
brought in P. Waytha Moorthy, whose party—the Hindu Rights Action
Force (HINDRAF)—was not in the Pakatan coalition. Again, there was
no protest, and Parti Warisan Sabah was also represented. In the Barisan
Nasional, on the other hand, UMNO always dominated the coalition and
all the rest were mere attachments. In our case, we gave strength to all
parties, even small parties like Bersatu.

Finally, on the following Monday, 21 May, the new Ministers were sworn
in before the Yang di-Pertuan Agong at Istana Negara in Kuala Lumpur.

Servants of the people

Cabinet Ministers are servants of the people and must be seen behaving
responsibly. This was especially true when the nation’s finances were on
shaky ground. On 23 May, two days after the swearing-in, I announced
89
that all Ministers would take a 10 per cent pay cut. It was important to
show leadership in this area even while we looked for better ways to assist
the less fortunate. I decided, for example, that Bantuan Rakyat 1Malaysia
(BR1M)—the “special gift” handed out by Najib’s Government—would be
reduced gradually while we looked for more meaningful ways to help the
poor, the unemployed and the disabled.

I did not immediately appoint Ministers to several portfolios such as

Youth and Sports, Foreign Affairs, and Federal Territories. Given the
many urgent matters I had to attend to, it was just not practical to spend
time considering possible candidates straightaway. Other portfolios
that remained temporarily unfilled included Water, Land, and Natural
Resources; Domestic Trade and Consumer Affairs; Public Enterprises;
Law; and Tourism. It wasn’t until 20 June that I was able to announce
an additional list of 13 ministerial appointments to send to the Agong for
approval. That brought the total number of Ministers to 27, which was still
below the limit of 30 that I had set for myself. Besides the 13 Ministers, I
named another 23 MPs as Deputy Ministers, and all were sworn in on the
morning of Monday, 2 July.
 CAPTURING

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Two appointments in this group attracted media attention: Datuk

Saifuddin Abdullah as Foreign Minister, and Syed Saddiq Syed Abdul
Rahman as Youth and Sports Minister. Saifuddin had left UMNO in 2015
to join PKR after expressing dissatisfaction with the way the 1MDB issue
was being handled. As for Syed Saddiq, at 25 he was the youngest-ever
Cabinet Minister and although he lacked experience, he made up for it in
enthusiasm. I also included several Ministers and Deputy Ministers from
Sabah and Sarawak. I wanted to nominate three more Ministers, but they
were not MPs and would first have to be appointed senators. These latter
appointments would then bring the total number of Cabinet members to
30, slightly fewer than Najib’s 35-strong Cabinet.

I mentioned that I had a lot of things to attend to. At the top of the list
was the rot that had set into certain parts of the Civil Service. For example,
Najib had appointed himself Minister of Finance and the ministry was in
very bad shape. There simply was no money. Najib borrowed huge sums
and committed the Government to supporting loans raised by 1MDB—
altogether, the Government owed more than RM1 trillion—which is a
number that has 12 zeroes. If you can fathom it, that is more zeroes than
what my calculator has. The Chief Secretary to the Government, who
90 was the head of the Civil Service, was aware of this but did not raise any
objection, and on investigation it appeared that the Chief Secretary had
been earning more than he should have. There was also the Secretary-
General of the Treasury, Tan Sri Dr Mohd Irwan Serigar Abdullah,
who made himself chairman of many government companies, and each
company paid him a very substantial amount. In total, he was being paid
as much as RM200,000 a month—that’s RM2.4 million a year and was far
above normal government pay. All these people needed to be shunted out,
but then who would replace them? I needed people who were honest, and I
had to find proof that they were honest and that they had the needed ability.

On a much broader level, it was also urgent that we began the process of
reorganising the Civil Service as a whole. For many years, I had been hearing
complaints about the Civil Service—that it had lost its professionalism
and that it behaved more like “a branch of UMNO” than a neutral group
of committed professional public servants. Critics pointed out that it had
become a “job bank” for unemployed Malay youths and Malay graduates
in courses with low employment prospects such as Islamic Studies. These
young people had little chance of finding work in the private sector, and
for political reasons they were absorbed into the Civil Service. The end
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

result was that the new Pakatan Harapan Government inherited a bloated
Civil Service of 1.6 million people—that’s about five per cent of the total
population but also includes teachers and the military. The Civil Service was
saddled with low levels of productivity, and up to 40 per cent of the annual
Budget went to public-sector emoluments including salaries, pensions,
various allowances and financial benefits. We had to do something about
this, but it wasn’t going to be easy. Many of the key people in the Civil
Service had become the main enablers of Najib’s administration. They
allowed him to preside over the country without any checks and balances.

On 14 May, within a week of becoming Prime Minister, I announced

that all policies and programmes, including those closely associated with
Najib—such as National Transformation 2050 and the National Blue
Ocean Strategy—would be reviewed. There would also be a smaller
number of ministries in my Government, with some remaining ministries
downsized. That meant that some civil servants would have to be moved
to other agencies. The truth is that no government can implement its
policies effectively if civil servants are not committed to carrying out
their responsibilities in an impartial manner. Thus, I made it clear that
the Government would terminate the contracts of some 17,000 political
appointees who had been serving under the previous administration. 91
Senior civil servants who were suspected of wrongdoing would also
be asked to go on leave. In this way, we hoped to reduce Government
expenditure and wastage.

A week later I announced that several government bodies would be

dissolved completely. These included agencies that had been used as
political tools, such as the National Council of Professors (Majlis Profesor
Negara or MPN). The Land Public Transport Commission (Suruhanjaya
Pengangkutan Awam Darat or SPAD) would also be abolished and its
functions returned to the Transport Ministry. Other organisations to be
disbanded included the Performance Management and Delivery Unit
(PEMANDU), the National Innovation Agency, the Malaysian Global
Innovation and Creativity Centre (MaGIC), and the Special Affairs
Department (Jabatan Hal Ehwal Khas or JASA). However, dismantling
each one of these agencies was time-consuming and had to be done in
accordance with the rules and the relevant laws. Failure to adhere to this
might result in the Government being sued.
 CAPTURING

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Arranging all this took a lot of effort, and in those early days, the Press
referred to me as the “chief of everything”. Indeed, I was, as most of my
Cabinet colleagues had no previous experience in the Federal Government.
As busy as I was, I knew there were people waiting to see whether I would
renege on the date I would hand the reins of the Government to Anwar.
I had promised to step down but did not state the exact date. This was
because I did not know how long it would take to clear the mess left behind
by Najib. As it turned out, the problems were bigger and more complex
than we thought. There were some that could not be undone, while in other
cases, more time was needed to iron out the commitments made by the
previous Government. One political scientist warned that: “If the transfer
of power does not take place, there’s a real likelihood the entire winning
alliance will fall apart. This would be disastrous for the country’s much-
needed reform agenda.”4 Things did ultimately fall apart—but certainly
not in the way anyone would have imagined possible.

In the same vein, many government-linked companies (GLCs) also

appeared to have lost track of their original purpose and function. Before
we could decide what to do with them, we had to re-examine the roles
they should play and then see to what extent their activities needed to
92 be modified. Sometimes, the effect of this process was quite drastic. In
July 2018, for example, the entire Board of Khazanah Nasional Berhad—
Malaysia’s sovereign wealth fund—resigned after I made some remarks
that their investment strategy had not done enough to assist firms owned
by Bumiputera. Khazanah was established to take up the shares allocated
to Bumiputera. Instead, we found that it was going into business and
competing with Bumiputera and were refusing to turn over the companies
to capable Bumiputera candidates. We were also told that executives in
Khazanah were paid very high salaries, whether the companies made
money or not.

GLCs operate in the public interest, and as such they should not be allowed
to run as personal fiefdoms of selected politicians. We felt that every GLC
deserved the highest calibre of professional managers, and we set about
recruiting these people. They had to be qualified and competent with proven
track records that were beyond reproach. There was some disappointment
on the part of party people who had worked to help us win the election—

4
James Chin, “Now that Malaysia has a new government, the real work begins
reforming the country”, in The Conversation. Retrieved from:
[Link] new-government-the-real-
work-begins-reforming-the-country-96914.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

but according to our election promises such people could not be considered
for appointment. Some might have been a bit hurt because they were
professionals themselves and felt they could contribute—they might well
have qualified for appointment in every other respect but because they
were involved in supporting us, we could not consider them. At a later
stage, we decided that while they could not head a GLC as chairpersons,
they could still contribute as members of the board. I was also concerned
that there should be balanced representation in terms of women in key
roles. I must admit we did not meet our target of women occupying 30 per
cent of decision-making roles in GLCs and institutions, but their numbers
were much higher than in previous years.

Now, the problem was that I did not know many of the new generation of
professionals, so I got help from those I did know—Tun Daim Zainuddin,
for example, had kept close contact with the corporate world—and there
were others who made recommendations. The final decision was mine,
and I always took time to study the candidates in detail. The moment you
appoint a candidate, people will immediately say, “No, he or she is not
suitable” because of this, that and the other. You have to stick to your guns.
There is no perfect candidate, so you need to make sure your reasoning
is sound and will stand up to scrutiny. But even so, you sometimes make 93
mistakes—and when people complain about your decisions, you must
ask why and go into the matter deeply. There was an occasion when
the chairman of a GLC complained about a person I had appointed to
the board. I thought my reasons were good, but the chairman differed
and came in to see me and explained why. In the end I agreed with the
chairman. That’s how it must work if you want to get the best people
heading your organisations.

Disentangling the hydra of 1MDB

Given his suspected role in covering up many of the problems involving
1MDB, Attorney-General Tan Sri Mohamed Apandi Ali was one of the
first civil servants asked to go on leave. We also needed to clear the way for
Anwar to receive a royal pardon, and Apandi’s seat on the Pardons Board
was transferred to Solicitor-General Datuk Engku Nor Faizah Engku
Atek. All this had to be done according to proper procedure: according
to Article 42(5) of the Federal Constitution, the Pardons Board consists
of the Attorney-General, the Chief Minister of the relevant state and not
more than three other members, all of whom are appointed by the Ruler or
 CAPTURING

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Yang di-Pertua Negeri. However, the Attorney-General may delegate his

functions as a member of the Board to another person, and the Ruler or
Yang di-Pertua Negeri can appoint any person to exercise temporarily the
functions of a member of the Board who is absent or unable to act.

At the same time, some political appointees had already begun resigning
of their own accord. These included the Malaysian Anti-Corruption
Commission (MACC) Chief Commissioner Tan Sri Dzulkifli Ahmad
and Federal Land Development Authority (FELDA) Chairman Tan Sri
Shahrir Abdul Samad. When the Press asked about my previous criticisms
of the Election Commission (EC), I said that if EC Chairman Tan Sri
Mohd Hashim Abdullah had done anything wrong he would face the due
process of law as in the case of others suspected of wrongdoing. I could
not simply have Hashim arrested and thrown in jail!

Two days after being sworn in as Prime Minister, I announced to the media
that I had directed the police to remove the Official Secrets Act (OSA)
classification from the Auditor-General’s report on 1MDB. This report
had been tabled in Parliament by the Parliamentary Public Accounts
Committee in April 2016. But because former Auditor-General Tan Sri
94 Ambrin Buang had placed the documents under the OSA, it was never
debated in the Dewan Rakyat. There was also evidence of the enormous
pressure placed on MACC officers investigating 1MDB during the Najib
regime. This was provided by the organisation’s new chief, Datuk Seri
Mohd Shukri Abdull, at an emotional Press conference on 22 May 2018:
“We had our own intelligence sources, that I would be arrested and locked
up, because I was accused of being part of a conspiracy to bring down the
Government. I was threatened with being fired, was asked to retire, take
leave early, and transferred to the training department ... for cold storage.”
Shukri also said that a bullet was sent to his house. He said that in July
2015, after plans to charge Najib failed and former Attorney-General Tan
Sri Abdul Gani Patail was removed from office, he fled to Washington DC.
“There, I got to know that several MACC investigators had been arrested,
and two senior officers were transferred out. I cried like a little baby ... We
wanted to bring money that was stolen back to our country. Instead, we
were accused of bringing down the country. We were accused of being
traitors.” But even in the US he did not feel safe. He said he was trailed
around Washington DC. When he went to New York, the local police
provided security for him.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

In preparation for a full and complete investigation into 1MDB, I moved

to restore the integrity and independence of the MACC. Apart from
appointing Shukri as Chief Commissioner, I brought back former Chief
Commissioner Tan Sri Abu Kassim Mohamed—in 2016, he had been
the person in charge of the MACC’s investigations into 1MDB and its
subsidiary, SRC International. I also recalled former MACC Special
Operations Division Director Datuk Bahri Mohammad Zin. He had opted
for early retirement in December 2016 after Apandi refused to prosecute
anyone involved in the illegal transfer of money from SRC.

As expected, the declassified Auditor-General’s report on 1MDB revealed

even more irregularities. Senior officials had withheld information from
the Board and even made some decisions without the Board’s approval.
According to the report’s executive summary, “In several instances, the
1MDB management had presented incomplete or inaccurate information
to the 1MDB Board before an important decision was made, and had
taken action without the approval of the 1MDB Board.” There were other
revelations as well: several high-risk investments were made in a very short
time, and in some cases the 1MDB management ignored the Board’s and
the shareholders’ wishes. “There were also instances where the 1MDB
management gave inaccurate or different information to interested parties,” 95
the report said. Embezzled money was laundered through countries such
as Switzerland, the United States, Singapore and even Luxembourg. I told
the Press that we would “call on the Governments of the countries to help
us recover the money.” We still didn’t know exactly how much money had
been siphoned abroad but in the US the figure being cited was in the region
of USD4.5 billion. Meanwhile, however, Government-guaranteed loans
raised by 1MDB had to be honoured or we would be sued. As for criminal
charges, the evidence pointed not only to Najib but many others as well.

On 21 May, I established a special task force of senior officials to recover

the money and assets. It was jointly headed by Abdul Gani, Shukri, Abu
Kassim and Bukit Aman Special Branch senior officer Datuk Abdul Hamid
Bador, who later became Inspector-General of Police. These officials
were also tasked with initiating action against those involved in criminal
activities relating to the case, and the initial focus was on how RM42
million went from SRC International into Najib’s personal bank account.
SRC was set up as a subsidiary of 1MDB in 2011 to make investments in
energy resources, and in 2012 it was moved to the Finance Ministry. The
MACC was able to track money flows from SRC fairly easily because the
 CAPTURING

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transactions were made through Malaysian financial institutions. Other

transfers involving 1MDB were harder to follow because they went through
a variety of foreign banks and companies.

Najib claimed that the enormous amounts of money deposited into

his personal bank account were perfectly legal—nothing more than a
“donation” from a Saudi royal. He also said that he was unaware of many
of the transactions involving 1MDB. However, he had sacked an Attorney-
General and several MACC officers when they attempted to investigate
the allegations. We also had documents with his signature on them as
1MDB Chairman. There was also the case of Jho Low, who appeared to
be at the very centre of the 1MDB scandal. I thought it wise not to say too
much about our efforts to bring him to justice—we knew roughly where
he was, but it was also obvious that we would need a great deal of help
from Interpol to take him into custody. We were at least able to recover
his luxury superyacht, which we believed had been purchased with money
misappropriated from 1MDB. I went to inspect the yacht at Port Klang on
11 August after it was returned to us by Indonesia. I had been on yachts
before but I had never seen anything like this. It was worth an estimated
RM1 billion and people said it was capable of supporting 26 guests. It
96 had gold-leaf decorations and marble trimmings, a gym, sauna, swimming
pool, cinema and even a helipad.

With both the public and the Press now unshackled, and the police free
to carry out their duties in enforcing the law, Najib began to feel the heat
very quickly. As early as the morning of Saturday, 12 May—three days
after the general election—Najib had already made preparations to leave
the country. But when news began circulating the previous evening that
Najib and his wife Datin Seri Rosmah Mansor were due to board a private
jet heading for Indonesia, a crowd gathered at the Sultan Abdul Aziz
Shah Airport in Subang, determined not to allow either of them to leave
the country. The angry mob surrounded passing cars, demanding to see
the occupants before letting them through. The police had to step in to
control the situation. The fact was that Najib had tweeted that he planned
to take a “short break”. It didn’t take much imagination to conclude that
he was attempting to flee the country because he was afraid he would be
prosecuted for his role in the 1MDB scandal. In response, I ordered the
Immigration Department to issue a travel ban on Najib and Rosmah—we
did not want to be saddled with the job of trying to extradite either of them
from a foreign country so they could face justice in Malaysia.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Beginning on 16 May, police raids on residences linked to Najib and his

family uncovered nearly 300 boxes containing very expensive designer
handbags and dozens of bags filled with cash in multiple currencies
(totalling RM537,000) and jewellery. There were 52 designer handbags
with brand names like Chanel, Louis Vuitton and Oscar de la Renta,
as well as 10 luxury watches, such as those made by Rolex and Patek
Philippe. In all, the police raided six premises, including the Prime
Minister’s official residence and the Prime Minister’s Office. For the
record, I had no advance knowledge of the police raids. The police must
be allowed to follow their own standard operating procedures when
conducting investigations. My only stipulation was that they treat people
decently at all times and not be abusive.

The high value of the goods seized was not very surprising. In 2017, the US
Department of Justice had alleged in civil lawsuits that some of the funds
stolen from 1MDB were used to buy luxury goods for Rosmah. These
included USD27 million for a rare pink diamond and another USD1.3
million for 27 gold necklaces. However, before the election there had been
little open criticism inside Malaysia of Rosmah’s lavish lifestyle. Not only
had the Press been under Najib’s thumb, Rosmah’s lawyers had threatened
to sue anyone who produced “false, malicious publications or postings”. 97
Now, however, the evidence was there for everyone to see.

When Pakatan Harapan officials entered the Prime Minister’s Office in

Putrajaya, they were greeted by an alarming sight. There were large rubbish
bags filled with shredded documents and piles of loose papers on the floor.
There was even half-consumed food left by the former occupants who had
been in a hurry to leave. At the Finance Ministry down the road, Lim
Guan Eng found computers that even the most senior bureaucrats could
not access. In some cases, vital files were accessible only by Najib himself.

I think Najib knew he was in trouble as early as late May 2018 when he
withdrew a three-year-old defamation suit against MP Tony Pua and Chan
Chee Kong, who was the owner of news portal [Link]. The suit
was filed in early 2015, over what Najib claimed were libellous remarks
about 1MDB made at a DAP fundraising dinner in November the previous
year. Now, the formal charges against Najib were not long in coming. In
July 2018 he claimed trial to three charges of criminal breach of trust, and
a fourth of receiving a RM42 million bribe. This was followed in August
and September by money-laundering charges. After some delays, Najib’s
 CAPTURING

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trial on a total of 42 criminal charges, most of them linked to 1MDB,

began in early April 2019. But this trial is only the first of several such trials
he would likely face over the scandal. The sum involved in the first set of
charges was only a small portion of the billions of ringgit that made their
way to his personal bank accounts.

Rosmah was also set to face the music. In early October 2018 she was
charged with 17 criminal acts, including receiving the proceeds of
illegal activities and failure to declare income tax. The following month,
prosecutors added another one—soliciting and receiving bribes of RM189
million from a company that wanted a government project.

GST and the national debt

As the 1MDB investigations were taking place, some of the Pakatan
Harapan’s other promises were also being realised. The day after the
election, I repeated our promise to the people that the oppressive Goods
and Services Tax (GST) would be abolished immediately, and that a
Sales and Service Tax (SST) would soon be established to replace it. This
promise became official policy a week later when the Finance Ministry
98
issued a statement saying that the six per cent GST would be zero-rated on
all items nationwide beginning 1 June 2018. The more narrowly focused
SST, I said, would be introduced later as stated in the Pakatan Harapan
manifesto. Price monitoring was carried out during the transition to ensure
that there would be no illegal profiteering. As a result, in June, Malaysia’s
consumer price index rose at its slowest pace in more than three years.
Inflation that month was at 0.8 per cent, its lowest since February 2015,
and the figure was also below the 1.3 per cent forecast by a Reuters poll,
and well down from the 1.8 per cent recorded in May. And then in August,
Parliament passed five bills designed to abolish the GST and pave the way
for the implementation of the SST. They were the Sales Tax Bill, Service
Tax Bill, Goods and Services Tax (Repeal) Bill, Customs (Amendment)
Bill and Free Zones (Amendment) Bill.

The SST, which came into force on 1 September, placed a much lighter
burden on the people than the GST. The GST collected around RM42
billion annually while the SST was expected to collect between RM20
billion to RM25 billion. Based on this calculation, it was obvious which
was the more burdensome. Claims that the SST would increase the price of
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

goods turned out to be untrue because a lot of items that had been affected
by GST previously were not affected, or only partially affected, by the SST.

Abolishing an unfair tax system was only the tip of the iceberg. The
Pakatan Harapan had inherited a government that had been poorly
managed financially. As I mentioned, the Najib regime had accumulated a
huge amount of borrowings from other countries, foreign banks, and even
from local sources. The first thing we had to do to fix the economy was
to ensure that we were able to service the loans, and find ways to reduce
the amount that had been borrowed. We could not let the national debt
remain at its existing level. How much was that debt? After studying the
situation, we found that total government debt, including liabilities from
1MDB, had spiralled upward to more than RM1 trillion. This was equal
to 80 per cent of the country’s Gross Domestic Product and was much
higher than the 55 per cent figure set by the previous Government. One of
the earliest steps we took was to study the components of the debt with the
aim of reducing it by RM200 billion. This included reducing government
spending by removing many political appointees who were working for a
political party, not the Government. Disbanding just four agencies alone—
the Land Public Transport Commission, the Special Affairs Department,
the National Council of Professors and the Federal Village Development 99
and Security Committees—allowed us to save an estimated RM500 million
annually. The National Council of Professors was set up to ensure that
academics expressed support for the Government. The structure was good
but the professors who were appointed to the Council were chosen for their
willingness not to criticise the Government and Najib. When the Council
was resuscitated, new members who were known for their independent
stand were appointed.

The same applied to several agencies—such as the Muslim Pilgrims’ Fund

(Tabung Haji) and the Armed Forces Provident Fund (Lembaga Tabung
Angkatan Tentera)—that were not managed by the Government but used
government funds. Problems arose when companies, wholly owned by
the Government but not subject to government regulations, borrowed
large amounts, which were then lost or stolen. The worst of these was
1MDB. So, we decided to set a ceiling on such loans in order to ensure
that these problems were kept at a manageable level. We also made plans
to recover USD600 million that the Najib Government paid to US firm
Goldman Sachs for its role in helping to raise funds for 1MDB through
bond offerings. It seemed obvious that the country had been cheated by the
 CAPTURING

HOPE

company, and there was certainly plenty of evidence that Goldman Sachs
had been involved in wrongdoing. In November 2018, US prosecutors
filed criminal charges against two former Goldman Sachs employees.
Almost immediately, one of them pleaded guilty to money laundering and
violation of the US Foreign Corrupt Practices Act.

Yet another measure involved renegotiating the unfair terms of huge

development projects agreed to by the Najib Government. One of these
was the RM55 billion East Coast Rail Link (ECRL) project. Begun in 2017,
this project involved 688km of railway connecting Port Klang in the west
to Kota Bharu in the east. The project was being implemented by China
Communications Construction Co. Ltd, and was mainly financed by a
loan from China’s Exim Bank. We felt that the contract was overpriced.
In fact, a local construction company had offered to do the job for RM30
billion. We couldn’t simply cancel the contract without having to pay
compensation, but after many rounds of talks, we managed to reduce the
cost by RM20 billion and, at the same time, we lessened the scope of the
project. We also wanted more Malaysian companies to be involved. All
these things were agreed to by the Chinese. There was also the Trans-Sabah
Gas Pipeline (TSGP) linking Kimanis to Sandakan and Tawau—another
100 expensive project backed by China—which cost about RM4 billion, and
which we had to renegotiate as well.

During a trip to China in August 2018, I met Chinese President Xi Jinping

and Premier Li Keqiang to explain the reasons behind the suspension of
the two projects. The fact was that we didn’t have an urgent need for either.
Our priority was reducing debt, so such projects had to be deferred until
we could afford them. By doing away with both, as well as others such as
the deal with Singapore for a high-speed rail link to Kuala Lumpur, we
could save up to RM200 billion. In another move to deliver on our election
promises and protect the interests of ordinary Malaysians, I announced in
late August that foreigners would not be permitted to purchase residential
units in the huge Forest City project in Johor. For some time, Malaysians
living in the state had complained that large numbers of people from China
had been snapping up properties that Malaysians themselves could not
afford. There had also been environmental damage, including the negative
impact of land reclamation on fisheries.

I must add here that these measures did not mean there was nothing we
could learn from China. Potentially, there was much China could teach
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

us about how a large country with a population of 1.4 billion could meet
the needs of its people. For example, China not only managed to provide
enough food for its citizens, but exported it as well. Malaysia, with a
population of 30 million, only managed to produce enough rice to meet
70 per cent of its needs, even though the Government provided subsidies
and fertiliser to farmers. Chinese companies were also good at marketing,
selling products not only to the domestic market but to the world through
companies such as Alibaba. We welcomed good relations with Beijing, but
unlike Najib and his cronies, we were not willing to sell large swaths of the
country to foreigners.

In addition to all this, on 30 May 2018 I launched Tabung Harapan

Malaysia (the Malaysian Hope Fund). This actually began as a private
fundraising initiative, “Please Help Malaysia!”, by a young woman, Nik
Shazarina Bakti. On a crowdfunding website called GoGetFunding,
she wrote: “Dearest Malaysians, do you remember that time when our
forefathers gave their jewellery, money and valuables up just so that Tunku
[Abdul Rahman] and the then-Government could raise enough funds to
go to London and claim for Merdeka [Independence]? Let’s do it again!”
Her reasoning was simple: “What triggered me to initiate [this] was when
I recently read about a guy from Batang Berjuntai who gave RM100 in two 101
RM50 bills to the Government as his part to reduce the debt. I was thinking
about myself, where I am from KL and am fortunate enough to work in
Malaysia. I figured why not do something as I will be playing my part as
a proud citizen of Malaysia? Finance Minister Lim Guan Eng confirmed
yesterday that Malaysia’s total debts amounted to RM1.087 trillion, or
80.3 per cent of Gross Domestic Product, at the end of last year after
official debt, contingent liabilities and lease payments for Public-Private
Partnerships (PPP) were tabulated together. If we could work together
during the 14th General Election (remember we trusted anyone who could
help us?) I am sure we can work together for another round.”

She collected USD3,633 (RM14,463) in donations, after which the

Government, through the Finance Ministry, took over. For days and
weeks after that, there was news about individuals, groups and companies
donating to the Fund. Teenagers washed cars to collect donations, women
organised bake sales and pre-loved clothes sales, and a 12-year-old boy
gave his entire savings of six months to the Fund. It was touching to see
patriotism at work again. By the end of March 2019, Tabung Harapan
had raised about RM203.29 million, including interest received from fixed
 CAPTURING

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deposit investments amounting to RM575,342.31. Eight months later, the

Finance Minister announced that the entire amount had been used to pay
off 1MDB debts.

The “Jedi Council” and our 100-day promises

I mentioned earlier that I wasn’t familiar with the new generation of
professionals rising up in Malaysia. The truth was that, although I had
been described (again) in the Press as running a one-man-show, I couldn’t
do all this on my own. There were so many problems to deal with and I
needed both the professional expertise of managers as well as the advice of
experts. For the latter, one of my first actions after being sworn in as Prime
Minister was to establish a Council of Eminent Persons (CEP) to advise
me and the new Pakatan Harapan Government on economic and financial
matters during the transition period. Headed by former Finance Minister
Tun Daim Zainuddin, the members consisted of former Governor of
Bank Negara (Malaysia’s central bank) Tan Sri Zeti Akhtar Aziz, former
President and CEO of PETRONAS Tan Sri Hassan Merican, businessman
Tan Sri Robert Kuok and Dr Jomo Kwame Sundaram, a well-known
economist who has served as United Nations Assistant Secretary-General
102
for Economic Development.

The Council’s primary job was to help the Government shape policies
and programmes in order to fulfil the Pakatan Harapan’s promises to the
rakyat. It would also carry out research into various matters, assist in the
implementation of the Pakatan Harapan’s 100-day election manifesto
promises and review the nation’s existing business dealings. Its findings
would then be presented to the Cabinet. With such a panel of “old-
timers” and experts in economics and finance to draw on, I hoped that
the new Government would be able to deal effectively with issues that
would inevitably crop up. The Council, which the Press dubbed the “Jedi
Council”, had no legal or political power but it had political legitimacy as
I was the one who set it up. The CEP got to work immediately, discussing
the fuel subsidy issue at its first meeting. It summoned key stakeholders
to appear before it, and no one refused an invitation as it provided them a
chance to express their grievances as well as their hopes and expectations.

But when the CEP summoned two judges—Chief Justice Tun Mohamed
Raus Sharif and Court of Appeal President Tan Sri Zulkefli Ahmad
Makinudin—to a meeting and sought their resignations, some people
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

got upset. They started questioning the legality and constitutionality of

the advisory panel as well as its responsibilities alongside the Cabinet.
According to the critics, this was a case of the executive interfering in
judicial matters. Tan Sri Annuar Musa, the Secretary-General of UMNO,
called for the CEP to be dissolved, saying it was “more powerful than the
Cabinet” given it was empowered to summon Ministers and judges to
appear before it. But the reality was that the judges had passed the normal
age of retirement and were being reappointed to their posts without due
process. Even the Bar Council and other leading lawyers felt that extending
their terms of service was unjustified. It had never been done before. We
allow judges to serve up to the age of 66, and there should be compelling
reasons for extending their tenure.

As for those who believed the CEP had overstepped its boundaries, I
pointed out that the CEP had the right to talk to a lot of people. After
all, if the CEP was not allowed to talk to anyone, then it might as well be
disbanded. Ultimately, however, I assured everyone that it would exist for
just one year, and all the information it collected and recommendations it
made would still be weighed and considered by the Cabinet and by me. I’m
not bound to accept advice—I can make my own decisions—but the CEP
was very useful for filling in gaps in my knowledge. A Prime Minister— 103
or any decision-maker for that matter—can always benefit from external
advice. Never think that you know everything. When you listen, you learn.
When you talk, you don’t learn.

The Pakatan Harapan Government—promises and criticisms

I mentioned earlier that one of the CEP’s tasks was to help the Government
deliver on the 100-day manifesto promises. These were 10 election promises
that we had committed to fulfilling within our first 100 days in office:

• Abolish the GST and take steps to reduce cost of living

• Stabilise the price of petrol and introduce targeted petrol subsidies
• Abolish unnecessary debts that have been imposed on FELDA settlers
• Introduce Employees Provident Fund (EPF) contributions for
housewives
• Equalise the minimum wage nationally and start the processes
to increase the minimum wage
• Postpone the repayment of Perbadanan Tabung Pendidikan Tinggi
Nasional (PTPTN) loans for all graduates whose salaries are below RM4,000 per
month and abolish the blacklisting policy
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HOPE

• Set up Royal Commissions of Inquiry on 1MDB, FELDA, Majlis

Amanah Rakyat (MARA) and Tabung Haji, and to reform the governance of these
bodies
• Set up a Special Cabinet Committee to properly enforce the
Malaysia Agreement 1963
• Introduce Skim Peduli Sihat with RM500 worth of funding for each
family in the B40 group for basic treatments in registered private clinics
• Initiate a comprehensive review of all megaprojects that have
been awarded to foreign countries

By mid-August 2018, it had become increasingly clear that we would

not be able to fulfil all these promises. To ensure the delivery of many
of these undertakings, new laws had to be passed and old ones modified.
In addition, we needed to make amendments to the Federal Constitution.
We did not have the necessary two-thirds majority in Parliament to do
this. In many cases, the most we could do was start work. Much of the
manifesto had also been written on the assumption that we knew what the
previous Government had been doing. But when we took over, we found
that things were much worse—especially with the spiralling national debt
104
and the subversion of the machinery of government. We found ourselves
working in an environment that was not conducive to making the sort of
changes that were needed.

There was also a serious psychological problem to overcome: having

been in the Parliamentary Opposition for over six decades, many Pakatan
Harapan leaders needed time to make a mindset adjustment. Even when
they became Cabinet Ministers, some continued to behave as if they were
still in the Opposition, and this was problematic. To put it simply: the
Government has to do things, and when you do things, you open yourself
to criticism. When you’re outside the Government, you can criticise as
much as you like, and your actions don’t come under as much intense
scrutiny. I needed to help the new Ministers get used to this. Their attitude
towards investors, for example, was not very friendly. I told them we had
to be on good terms with the business community and be business-friendly,
but they found it difficult. When they were in the Opposition, they thought
that the business community was stealing money from the Government
and making a lot of money for itself.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

For example, they thought that they could abolish tolled roads. Sure,
everybody would enjoy driving on toll-free roads. But, I said, “You
can’t do that.” The Government has legally binding obligations to allow
private highway operators to collect tolls. If we were to renege on these
obligations, we would have to compensate the operators or even buy them
over. We didn’t have the money to do that or to take over the maintenance
of the highways. We would also suffer serious damage to our credibility as
a government—could we be trusted in the future to honour our contracts
and agreements if we could simply break them later on? Finally, my new
Cabinet colleagues realised that it was impossible to abolish tolls altogether.
A reduction in the toll rates was possible—but they also discovered that a
reduction would cost the Government a lot of money. Highways needed to
be maintained. The tolls collected pay for this maintenance. Without tolls
the Government would have to spend billions to maintain these expensive
highways. It would be too much of a burden for a government already
short of funds.

However, there were several achievements in the first 100 days: Najib was
finally charged, we seized Jho Low’s superyacht, Equanimity, and hundreds
of political appointees at the top levels of the government bureaucracy
were removed from office. Less visible but no less important was the work 105
to clean up the Election Commission, the police and the top leadership of
key GLCs. We abolished the GST, obtained a royal pardon for Anwar, and
began the process of introducing EPF contributions for housewives.

We did not set up a Royal Commission to inquire into the affairs of

1MDB and other cases of alleged mismanagement involving FELDA,
MARA and Tabung Haji because investigations by several agencies at the
time were ongoing and the courts would decide on these cases. However,
investigations into 1MDB by a special team began on 21 May 2018,
while the investigations into FELDA, MARA and Tabung Haji were also
under way. FELDA and Tabung Haji had new senior management teams
on 14 May, and the leadership at 1MDB was revamped on 28 June. In
addition, we set up a Special Cabinet Committee to expedite the review
and implementation of the Malaysia Agreement 1963—the objective being
to bolster the self-governing powers of Sarawak and Sabah; and in the
area of student loans, we abolished the unjust “blacklist” over the course
of May–June 2018, giving relief to 429,945 borrowers. Besides this, we
provided further assistance via discounts or absolution of debts to up to
51,272 borrowers, involving a sum of RM1.56 billion.
 CAPTURING

HOPE

There was also the matter of unreasonable debts forced onto FELDA
settlers, and to address this, we created three mechanisms, namely: an
incentive to write off a portion of the extreme replanting debt through
the provision of RM300 million in funds for five years; writing off the
replanting debt of RM5,000 per settler within the FELDA system (which
involved 90,418 settlers at a cost of RM452 million), and providing an
incentive to write off a portion of the remaining Felda Global Ventures
share loan, which involved 77,972 settlers at a cost of RM103 million.

We also initiated the process of looking into the problem of citizenship

for members of the Indian and other communities who were aged 60
and above and were still permanent residents (and not full citizens) of
the country. Had we been able to remain in government to complete this
project, nearly 3,500 members of the Indian community would be full
citizens now. And lest it be said that we were unwilling to subject ourselves
to the same scrutiny we gave others, we elected Opposition MP Datuk
Seri Ronald Kiandee as Chair of the influential Parliamentary Public
Accounts Committee. This was a mark of our willingness to work with the
Opposition—and be criticised by them—for the public interest.

106 As such, there was much to celebrate on 31 August 2018, when an

estimated 300,000 people thronged Dataran Putrajaya to take part in the
Merdeka Day parade. Instead of Dataran Merdeka in Kuala Lumpur,
I chose Putrajaya as the location for the celebration to symbolise a new
beginning for the country. In my Merdeka Day message broadcast on TV
the previous evening, I said that just over 100 days earlier, we successfully
replaced the Government of the Barisan Nasional, which the world knew
was a kleptocracy. The people’s victory would go down in our nation’s
history as a victory beyond comparison.

In the end, the Pakatan Harapan Government realised 21 promises (35

per cent) of the 60 election promises we made in the Pakatan Harapan
manifesto to unshackle Malaysia from corruption and to ensure good
governance. Corruption is the enemy of all good governance, and combating
corruption remains very close to my heart. We wanted our country to be
known for integrity, not corruption, and so we established a Special Cabinet
Committee on Anti-Corruption and set up the Governance, Integrity
and Anti-Corruption Centre (GIACC), which was given the mandate to
hold meetings with all the Secretaries-General of the various ministries to
determine the risks of corruption based on the issues identified by their
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

respective organisations. The Secretaries-General were required to assume

personal responsibility and discuss with the GIACC the preparation of
action plans to address the problems and issues they encountered.

We also formulated the National Anti-Corruption Plan to enable issues of

governance, integrity and anti-corruption to be addressed comprehensively.
Among other things, we initiated legislation for punitive action against
officers who deliberately caused leakages or wastage of government funds;
and to combat money politics, we drafted the Political Funding Bill. A
special team led by the GIACC submitted a draft of the Bill to the Cabinet,
and in addition, a policy on the giving of gifts and donations to members of
the Civil Service was also in the works. At the time, this policy only focused
on civil servants, and soon the Government also decided that members
of the Administration (Ministers and Deputy Ministers) should no longer
issue letters of support in relation to any project or application. Heads
of Department were requested to no longer assume that such letters were
directives or expressed decisions by any member of the Administration.

On the declaration of assets, amendments were being made to expand the

definition of “Members of the Administration” so that the Prime Minister
and Deputy Prime Minister would also have to declare their assets. We 107
were also in the process of amending the Code of Ethics for Members of
the Administration and Government Members of Parliament. It was our
intention that assets would be declared to the Malaysian Anti-Corruption
Commission (MACC) to ensure that the practice would be open and
transparent.

In the area of freedom of speech, after taking over the Government, the
Pakatan Harapan coalition fulfilled its promise not to restrict freedom of
speech and the media. This freedom did not include attempts to provoke
the hostility of any community towards any other, and certainly not to the
extent of triggering chaos and riots, and what was meant by “provocation”
would be explained in detail.

The efforts taken over the first 100 days were not made in isolation. For
future governments, regardless of which party was in power or who became
Prime Minister, the consolidation of the institutions would ensure that
there was no corruption, abuse of power and theft of money and public
property. Furthermore, if these were to occur, the perpetrators would not
escape legal action. This was what the Pakatan Harapan Government held
 CAPTURING

HOPE

on to: respecting and appreciating the will of the people so that the rule of
law was enforced, and the administration functioned in accordance with
the law. “Ours is a heavy task,” I told the crowd at the Merdeka celebrations
in 2018. “But no power can come between a people and a government
working together. We have seen how countries defeated and destroyed in
war have risen again in a short time and progress due to the spirit and
efforts of the people and government. We are also capable of that. We, too,
can revive our country, Malaysia. The Government can administer well,
exercise thrift, be disciplined and control greed. This is being done.”

Much remains to be achieved in order to restore Malaysia to health. But

two points were firmly established by the Pakatan Harapan Government:
zero tolerance for corruption, and accountability of those holding positions
of power.

Up until 24 February 2020, I was optimistic that we could achieve this.

108
 Chapter 6
A Government of Hope

Some people claim that the Pakatan Harapan Government was a failure.
It was not. In many countries around the world, changes in government
have been accompanied by a lot of objections—riots, strikes and violence
that sometimes escalate into tribal or civil war. In Malaysia, however, the
switch from the Barisan Nasional Government of more than 60 years to the
Pakatan Harapan was very smooth. We set up a Cabinet in good time, and it
was no ordinary Cabinet: in the years leading to the 2018 General Election,
the Barisan Nasional Government had been dominated by members of
a single party—the United Malays National Organisation (UMNO). In
contrast, the Pakatan Harapan was composed of five parties. It was a tough
job for me to make sure that each party was equitably represented. I say
“equitably” because not all parties performed equally well in the elections.
For example, Parti Keadilan Rakyat (PKR) had 47 parliamentary seats, the
Democratic Action Party (DAP) had 42, Parti Amanah Negara (Amanah)
had 11, Parti Warisan Sabah had eight and Parti Pribumi Bersatu Malaysia
(Bersatu)—my own party—had only 13 seats.
109
There was a lot of goodwill and, in fact, a lot of faith in Bersatu, so much so
that we held two very senior Cabinet positions (I was Prime Minister, and
Bersatu President Tan Sri Muhyiddin Yassin was Home Affairs Minister);
this was accepted by all the Pakatan Harapan partners and we worked
together very well. We held Cabinet meetings every week and we came up
with solutions to many issues. We were able to enunciate our policies and
plans for the future, and tackle a host of urgent problems left behind by
Datuk Seri Najib Razak’s administration.

In many ways, these problems meant that it could never have been a simple
transfer of power. We had to clean up the Government itself because many
officers in the Civil Service were implicated. We knew that some officers
had been involved in malfeasance and corruption, and we could not simply
let them continue doing as they pleased. We needed immediate change—
some had to be dismissed, others reassigned to non-critical roles. The task
fell to me—I did ask people for their opinions, but the decision was mine
as Prime Minister. Also, the whole process took time because we were
still regarded as “the enemy” by the administrators, so to speak. Imagine,
the entire machinery of government had been working for the Barisan
 CAPTURING

HOPE

Nasional for the past 60-odd years. There were people in the Government
who had spent years running down the late Karpal Singh, who had been
Chairman of the DAP for many years. And now, they had to work for
Karpal’s son, Gobind, who was Communications and Multimedia Minister
in my Cabinet.

That said, the new Government certainly had to deal with a number of
teething problems of its own. First was the need to change the “Opposition
mindset”, as I mentioned in the previous chapter. It was, after all, a
radical change for many in the Pakatan Harapan to now be in charge of
running the country after decades of service in the Opposition—so much
so that when they became Cabinet Ministers, some continued to behave
as if they were still in the Opposition. As an Opposition politician, you
don’t have to bother about things like costs. You can freely accuse the
Government of exploiting the people, and so forth, but once you’re in the
Government, you become the target. You get criticised for everything you
do—sometimes fairly, often not—and the transition from being the critic
to becoming the object of the criticism isn’t easy. It made some of my
Cabinet colleagues more hesitant. They would say, “On the one hand, it’s
against my principles (to do such-and-such). On the other hand, if I stick
110 to my principles too much, there might not be much that we can actually
get done.” In the Opposition, life is much simpler. When the Government
does something, you question it, you comment and you criticise. It doesn’t
matter if the policy or programme is good or bad—your job is to oppose
the Government. But now that you’re in the Government, you’re being
opposed all the time. So, it was a very big change for my colleagues and it
took time for them to understand that they could no longer do what they
did just a few months previously.

Many of them would come to see me, seeking guidance and advice. Often
at the beginning of a Cabinet meeting, I would give them a long talk—
until somebody pointed out that the talks took longer than the meeting.
But I had to explain and clarify many issues to the Cabinet. For example,
when they discovered that Najib had awarded a contract that was very
costly to the Government, they wanted to terminate it. I had to point out
that if we terminated the project without grounds, we would be in breach
of contract. If we wanted to legally end a contract, we would have to
compensate the other party. In other cases, some of my colleagues sought
a reduction in contract costs because they felt the contract was overvalued
to begin with. I pointed out that a strong reason the previous Government’s
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

projects were overvalued was because some people insisted on taking a

“cut” of the contract, and what was left was just enough for the contractor
to carry out the work. And they needed to make a profit. So, if you seek to
“punish” the corrupt politicians of the previous Government by cancelling
contracts, it’s not the politicians who suffer—they have already taken the
money. It’s the contractor who suffers, as well as all those involved in doing
the actual work: staff and workers, suppliers, subcontractors—there are a
lot of entirely innocent parties depending on the contract. The previous
Government may have inflated the contract and taken money, but is it fair
now to punish the people actually doing the work? At the very least, we
had to think about it.

A frequent criticism was that we weren’t a business-friendly Government.

It’s true that some Ministers were of the view that since successful
entrepreneurs were making money, we should tax them as much as possible.
I explained that when you taxed someone, you placed an obstruction
in the path of doing business—and if we didn’t have enough business
opportunities emerging, we wouldn’t be able to create enough jobs. It
might not all be as simple as this, but the key point was that there were
several interconnected factors in every decision made, and we needed to
be aware of all of them and their implications. Governments must collect 111
taxes, but we can do it in such a way that it will not stop investment. I had
a hard time explaining that we needed to be friendly with business people
because they were the creators of wealth.

Teething problems
Despite being fantastic orators while in the Opposition, the Pakatan
Harapan struggled with public communications once it was in Government.
We didn’t handle social media well. We were a new Government, and
while we were well aware that there were a lot of negative and plainly
wrong comments being made about us, we didn’t spend the time we
needed to rebut or clarify the misconceptions or half-truths that were going
around. There were professional critics called “cybertroopers”—people
who were employed to criticise or, worse, manufacture negative stories
to make life harder for the Pakatan Harapan Government. I’m afraid
that most of the Ministers, being new to their jobs, were so preoccupied
with tackling problems in their ministries that they simply did not have
the time or energy to understand what was being said about them and
how they should deal with it. The Pakatan Harapan Government was
 CAPTURING

HOPE

then perceived by some to have been a failure as a result. This is a view I

vehemently disagree with, but we weren’t doing enough to show the public
that such accusations were unfounded.

We did discuss this problem in the Cabinet but actual political experience
is very important. If you’ve had the experience of dealing with the public,
you’ll know how to respond. We had Ministers who were new to their roles
and were from parties that had been in the Opposition since the country
became independent. Some found it difficult to deal with the constant
criticisms that were coming in from so many directions, including the
Press. Gobind was always complaining that the Press was hammering the
Government too much, and that Ministers were not replying adequately. I
must admit that some Ministers were afraid of the Press, and they couldn’t
hold their own under questioning. Because of this, even civil society
activists complained that the Pakatan Harapan Government had not
achieved much.

And then came the suggestion that the DAP was dominating the
Government. The DAP is perceived as a “Chinese party” representing
Chinese Malaysians through a narrow range of ethnocentric interests—
112 that’s the perception created by the UMNO cybertroopers, and despite my
arguments, they latched on to the idea that the Government (and thus the
country) had somehow come under “Chinese” control—it’s a deeply racist
and insecure idea, but it was a key part of their strategy to undermine
the Government. No matter how we explained ourselves, they would
repeat that Malaysia needed a “Malay-Muslim Government”, and that the
DAP was anti-Muslim and intended to destroy the Malays, and so forth.
This went on continuously. This was all propaganda, and it came from
the side that lost the general election, but Malaysians who are not very
knowledgeable about politics tend to swallow this hook, line and sinker.

I tried to provide guidance during Cabinet discussions. On certain matters,

I would point out that it was important that we reached a decision
unanimously, but there was a clear lack of discipline. Sometimes, it was
not the Minister but his or her staff who had different ideas, and because
they didn’t agree with a given Cabinet decision, they felt they had to voice
their own opinions. When this happened, I had to remind them about the
importance of sticking to the collective decision of the Cabinet. In my
first government as Prime Minister, I found that civil servants sometimes
did not understand why the Cabinet made a particular decision, especially
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

when the decision was not in accordance with a paper they had presented.
This was why I insisted on post-Cabinet meetings between the Minister
and senior ministry officials where the Minister could explain why the
Government had made a particular decision and how the work should
be carried out. This applied to civil servants but also to Deputy Ministers
and senior staff. However, there were some Pakatan Harapan Ministers
who never held a post-Cabinet meeting. They might not have thought it
was necessary but, as a result, they had to deal with a lot of problems in
miscommunication.

Sometimes, we unwittingly handed ammunition to the other side. I

mentioned that UMNO cybertroopers were hard at work encouraging the
idea that the DAP was becoming too powerful. Indeed, within months
of our first year in government, there were rumours circulating that DAP
Ministers, especially Finance Minister Lim Guan Eng, were dominating
the Government and controlling me. This was patently untrue. Like
everyone else, Guan Eng listened to the views of others, and there was
no way to impose his will on the Cabinet or on anyone. Guan Eng was
a very senior Minister but he was also a member of a five-party Cabinet.
The DAP won 42 seats at the general election and they had six Cabinet
portfolios. Bersatu won 13 seats and we also had six Ministers, one of 113
whom was the Prime Minister and another was Minister of Home Affairs.
The DAP never questioned me on this division, and to say that I was under
the control of the DAP was a complete lie.

For the most part, Guan Eng always referred to me and sought my approval
on almost all his initiatives. In fact, even in Cabinet meetings, every time
he proposed something, he would end it by saying “if the Prime Minister
agrees”. There were times I didn’t agree, and when that happened, we
would have special Cabinet meetings to examine his projects thoroughly.
In the end, it’s the Cabinet that decides—not the Prime Minister by fiat.
So, no matter what any Minister wants to do, the Cabinet must agree for it
to happen, and our Cabinet was such that we met even on holidays to deal
with particular issues, and sometimes we dedicated two or three Cabinet
meetings to tackling the same problems.

And there were problems. There was a senior member of the DAP who
enjoyed Guan Eng’s confidence. This adviser was not a member of the
Cabinet, but Guan Eng would delegate a lot to him, and he assumed he had
a lot of power over civil servants. He even went to business meetings and
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threatened people. I received a report from a property developer involved

in building a multibillion-ringgit complex in Kuala Lumpur in which the
Government held a 50 per cent stake. This project had been negotiated by
Najib’s Government, and the developer had been unable to raise enough
funds to get it moving. The Government insisted that it would guarantee
the loans he needed only if certain conditions were met, one of which was
that the Government was empowered to acquire the entire project for the
nominal sum of RM1 if the development fell behind schedule.

Now, this particular DAP adviser did in fact make this threat despite the
fact that billions had already been spent, and he did so without reference to
or indeed getting any authorisation from the Government. There were also
occasions when this adviser spoke publicly on behalf of the Government
despite having no standing to do so. He was an official member of Guan
Eng’s political staff and a trusted adviser, to be sure, but he was not
empowered to negotiate Government business on his own. It’s not the way
a government works, and I put a stop to all instances of it that I was aware
of, but it was this kind of behaviour that allowed the UMNO cybertroopers
to play up ethnic insecurities.

114
Suspicions and assumptions
The “Opposition mindset” wasn’t the only problem I faced. There was
suspicion about almost every decision I made. The assumption was that
any person I selected for a job would be some kind of crony. This was what
happened when I was Prime Minister the first time around and it resurfaced
when I led the Pakatan Harapan Government. To be clear: I always made
it a point to base my decisions on the person’s background and his or her
ability to do what needed to be done. Whenever I proposed someone for
consideration, or even when there was a change in the direction of a policy,
there would be a debate about it. My Cabinet colleagues scrutinised every
individual who was nominated for a job by the Prime Minister. This is
fine, but I felt that sometimes the Cabinet was too suspicious—especially
of locals—as they just couldn’t shake the feeling that they might be my
cronies. There was also an element of socialist idealism among some
members of the Pakatan Harapan parties, and there was intense suspicion
about venture capitalists and investors. These people were supposedly
out to make a profit and would not hesitate to oppress others. So, I had
difficulty finding locals to take on work that needed to be done.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

For instance, I argued that we should depend less on foreign direct

investment (FDI) and instead encourage locals to go big in business. The
idea was not to serve just the domestic market but to reach the global market
with products and services that met global demand and expectations of
quality. This kind of self-reliance was the only way to grow the economy
in a sustainable way because the days of FDI were over. There were many
other countries in the world today that were better able to attract FDI
because they could offer cheap labour. We were competing against them for
the same investments but, I argued, we could change course and decide for
ourselves which industries to develop and strengthen. But to do that, our
industries needed to grow to the global level, which in turn needed people
with experience, capital, grit and appetite for risk. It’s hard finding these
people, and harder still when every candidate is automatically assumed to
be a crony.

Indeed, my Cabinet colleagues had strong opinions, and because we had

five different parties, every Minister had to have a say on every matter.
However, each Minister was also a representative of his or her party and
would often view an issue from the party angle—and in most cases, no two
parties had the same stand. It was actually very rare to have all the parties
even appreciating a given problem in a similar way. So, when a Minister 115
felt the need to exert his or her party’s position on a particular matter, I
had to stop him or her and explain the many factors that needed to be
considered before taking the next step forward. A coalition can easily break
up if one party considers itself very powerful compared to the others—and
when you think you are powerful, the tendency is to demand. In the case
of the Pakatan Harapan, we needed one another but we could also hold
one another to ransom. As each party was strong, if one dropped out, the
whole Government would fail. So, there was an attitude that if you didn’t
do what I wanted you to do, I would bring you down. I had to ensure that
the working relationship between the parties was not affected by this. With
the Barisan Nasional, the dynamic was completely different. You could
not threaten to leave the coalition. If you dropped out, the coalition would
stay on and you would end up in the Opposition. This deterred many from
being unmanageable.

There were occasions when I felt I was wading through treacle. It was just
very difficult to move or to make decisions. I think I was a “fuller” Prime
Minister in the Barisan Nasional than I was in the Pakatan Harapan. The
Malays perceived this as my being under the control of the DAP, but what
 CAPTURING

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I did was to try to get everybody to agree—and I myself had to agree, too.
When I was Prime Minister the first time from 1981 to 2003, I was often
condemned for all kinds of things, especially investment and development
decisions. But somehow, once the projects were completed, people
accepted them and even rather liked them. The classic example was the
Penang Bridge. When I first proposed building it, people said I was wasting
money—RM800 million, which was a large sum of money in those days.
But they didn’t complain once they started using the bridge, and they even
built a second one and now, there’s even been talk of building a tunnel!
And there was the North-South Expressway that runs the length of the
west coast of Peninsular Malaysia. There were many obstacles in 1988
when I proposed privatising the highway—that is, the construction and
subsequent maintenance of it. The point was that the Government had no
money to build it. We also had to acquire land and there were some people
who just didn’t want to have their land acquired. As usual, there was also a
lot of criticism that the highway was a waste of money.

So, how do you overcome all this? I took in all the criticisms to see how I
could address them. If the Government had no money, the obvious solution
was to pass the project on to the private sector. However, when you hand
116 things over to profit-oriented businesses, costs can become prohibitive. A
private highway operator would be tempted to charge high tolls, which
would mean that people either wouldn’t use the highway or they would
curse you, or both. So, how do you keep toll rates reasonable, and how do
you reduce the cost of building the highway? The Government could offer
the private contractor a low-interest loan. We could acquire land on their
behalf, and we could also hand over roads that had already been built.
All this could bring costs (and tolls) down but critics translated all this as:
“You’re just trying to help a capitalist contractor who is your crony.” It’s
not that at all. Private enterprises will not take up a project unless they can
make a profit, and a reasonable amount of that profit can only be achieved
if people actually use the road and pay the tolls. If people use the road,
they need the tolls to be low. So, the point of all this was to facilitate access
for the road user, not the contractor. This is precisely what happened in the
case of the North-South Expressway: we had to reduce our costs, allow for
the recovery of the investment, and ensure that people would use it.

I also knew that the Expressway would open up new areas of economic
and social development. A long time ago when I was still in school, one
of my teachers had talked about the railroad that had been built between
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Penang and Padang Besar, in the north at the Thai border, which passed
through my home state of Kedah. He said that when the railroad was built,
little towns sprang up along the route as more people used the railroad.
In those days, they had “halts”, not actual railway stations. The train just
stopped and people got on and bought a ticket from the conductor. As
time passed, people would begin congregating at a particular halt site—
not just travellers but traders with things to sell—and these small halts
then developed into proper stations. So, when we built the North-South
Expressway, I thought that a similar form of development would take
place—all along the highway, we would find new towns, new industrial
parks, new settlements and the like. This has in fact been the case, and
today it’s proven that the highway has contributed much towards opening
up the land and creating better access and linkages among villages, towns
and cities.

So, my Cabinet colleagues wanted to abolish all tolls completely as this

was a big part of the Pakatan Harapan’s general election manifesto. But
where would we get the money to maintain and build new roads, assuming
we had the money to compensate the concessionaires for terminating the
contracts in the first place? Consider just the North-South Expressway
alone: nationalising it would cost the Government more than RM30 117
billion. Now, the Expressway is almost 800km long and costs almost a
billion ringgit per year to maintain. Where will this money come from?
Now consider all tolled roads in Malaysia. Yes, the Government can
shoulder some of the costs of acquisition and maintenance, but can the
Government put up the money to acquire and repair all of them? Should it
even do so, especially when there were several other urgent priorities such
as education, healthcare, and social security to think about?

Eventually my colleagues realised that we could not abolish tolls outright,

but we could at least work on reducing the rates—and ultimately, we
managed to bring them down by 18 per cent. The point is that when you
are in the Opposition, you see a lot of injustice—some real and some
imagined. When you are in the Government, you realise that you might
have been mistaken about some things, but it takes time to understand
this. We were very conscious about not imposing too much on the people
of the country. We had a choice: either we raised funds by increasing the
sale price of petroleum to subsidise the cost of building and maintaining
the highway network, or we made road users pay. A higher petrol price
would affect everyone even if they didn’t use a particular road or highway.
 CAPTURING

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That wasn’t fair, so we chose the user-pays model instead, which was best
implemented in the toll system.

I think most Malaysians accept paying tolls, and to be honest the toll rate
is fantastically low. The Penang Bridge toll was RM7 way back when it
was built in 1985, and it’s still RM7 for both ways today! By contrast, in
Japan, you might pay as much as RM250 one way. Of course, Japan is a
wealthy nation but is it so rich that the Japanese can easily afford to pay
such amounts? It can be hard communicating this to Malaysians. We can’t
tell them: “Look, if you don’t believe us, we can take you to see what’s
happening in other countries.”

A lot of the Opposition mindset came from a zeal to right the wrongs of
Najib’s regime, and we shouldn’t hold it against a person for wanting to do
the right thing or correct a past mistake. When we were in the Opposition,
our perception was that the Government was cheating on a grand scale,
awarding public contracts at vastly inflated prices so that they could get
a lot of kickbacks. The moment we took over the Government, we halted
all the contracts where there was reason to suspect that prices had been
negotiated to allow Government Ministers to make money for themselves.
118 We cancelled a lot of projects, and when we did so, many people lost
their jobs. It was at this time that the Finance Ministry felt that instead of
cancelling projects outright, we should instead try to reduce the cost of the
contracts by a very substantial amount—after all, cancelling the contracts
for vital projects (such as transportation) meant that we would also waste
a great deal of time and money issuing new tenders and new contracts for
work that was already under way. And as I mentioned earlier, our intention
may have been to punish the wrongdoers in the previous administration, but
terminating contracts in many cases punished regular people—contractors,
workers, suppliers—who had nothing to do with the graft that was going
on, and there were a number of contractors who simply couldn’t afford any
major reduction in costs.

It was because of things like this that our popularity suffered, and this
was due to a lack of experience of what was and wasn’t credible in terms
of public policy. As I said, being in the Opposition, you can say anything
you like because you aren’t actually doing anything. But when you’re in
the Government, you’re constantly being criticised—politicians need to
understand that when you take any action, no matter how beneficial or
justified it might seem to you, there will always be people who will not like
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

it, and you must be able to handle this reaction. The effect of this is that
when you are in the Opposition, saying things like tolls should be abolished,
or that rich capitalists are exploiting poor workers—all of it sounds very
popular to people who might be disaffected for a wide variety of reasons.
Promising people anything that lifts some part of their burden, such as
reducing pressures on household finances, will be popular—no taxes, no
tolls, no fees, and so forth—but the moment you’re in government you find
that you can’t just do it without weighing the consequences. Governments
provide public services, and public services need money. Where do you
get the money if there is no income? Worse, how do you tell the people,
“Look, I promised to do away with tolls, but now I find that I can’t”? This
does serious damage to your reputation.

The Pakatan Harapan manifesto

In March 2018, the Pakatan Harapan unveiled a general election manifesto
of 150 pages promising a great deal. The foreword bears my signature,
and in it, I wrote that we pledged to be judged on how far we fulfilled our
promises in government. “If we fail or if we break our promises, by all
means reject us in the next General Election.” I stand by that pledge. If
119
we make an error in a promise, it would be honest to admit the error and
continue working for the betterment of the country.

The manifesto was drawn up by people who had no experience of

government, and I’m not sure if they seriously envisaged that we would
win. They were party strategists who had a lot of ideas but, in my view,
understood little about the practical constraints a government would face
once elected to power—the first of which was that you could not go back
on your manifesto without losing a lot of credibility. If you saddle yourself
with an election promise that cannot be realised, then you set yourself up
for ridicule and failure. In the end, I had to agree to it because we urgently
needed a common platform for the general election, but I was opposed
to several provisions of the manifesto and argued that it would have been
nearly impossible to deliver on some of the promises.

I knew the abolition of highway tolls would be a problem from the beginning
(I even wrote an article for them to explain why tolls could not be abolished,
but they just ignored it because this had been their war cry for a long time)
but there was also the proposal to do away with several draconian laws,
as well as plans to revisit the relationship between Peninsular Malaysia
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and Sabah and Sarawak. We wanted to restore the status of Sabah and
Sarawak as equal members with Peninsular Malaysia within the Federation
as expressed in the Malaysia Agreement of 1963 (MA63). Under this
agreement, Malaya (consisting of 11 states created under the Federation of
Malaya Agreement 1957), Sarawak, North Borneo (as Sabah was known)
and Singapore merged as equal partners to form a new nation. MA63 set
out the terms and conditions for the component states to join together
under a new constitution as a single nation called the Federation of
Malaysia. However, Malaysia went through a rather winding course in its
political history since then, and two years after the formation of Malaysia,
Singapore left the Federation. The years that followed also changed the
status of Sabah and Sarawak from equal partners to states within Malaysia.
To correct this, we made the restoration of Sabah and Sarawak as equal
partners a central pillar in the Pakatan Harapan manifesto. We promised
that if we took over the Federal Government, we would reinstate the rights
of Sabah and Sarawak as enshrined in MA63 and safeguard the rights and
interests of its people.

We did take control of the Government and we sought to amend Article

1(2) of the Federal Constitution to restore its original wording, which
120 recognised the Borneo states as equal partners to all of Peninsular Malaya
within the Federation (the current wording has all 14 states listed together,
which effectively downgrades Sabah and Sarawak to equal status as the
individual states in the Peninsula). This was intended to be a first step
towards the restitution of the rights specified under MA63, and on 9 April
2019, we tabled a bill to amend Article 1(2) in Parliament. The Bill failed
to meet the necessary two-thirds or 148 votes required to pass. A total of
197 out of the 222 Members of Parliament were present for the vote. No
lawmaker opposed the amendment but 59 MPs abstained. As a result,
the amendment fell 10 votes short of the required two-thirds majority we
needed to amend the Constitution.

Separately, we were obliged to backtrack on our stand on the use of the

Official Secrets Act 1972 (OSA). We were heavily criticised particularly
for our decision to withhold the release of the report of the Council of
Eminent Persons. My response was that the Council was advising me, not
the Government, and I could accept or reject the advice. For example, they
suggested candidates for certain posts. If I agreed with their suggestions, I
would convey those suggestions to the Cabinet. Besides, information and
advice didn’t come only from the Council. Other than the OSA, there was
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

also the Security Offences (Special Measures) Act 2012 (SOSMA)—this

was actually not a law we promised to repeal in the manifesto. Rather, we
promised to review individual clauses within the law to ensure that they
conformed with acceptable standards of justice. There are generally two
kinds of legislation regarding crime in Malaysia. The first type of law is
punitive—it punishes crimes after they have been committed. The second
is preventive—its purpose is to prevent the commission of a criminal act.
Now, in order to do this, you need to be able to take action against someone
who intends to do something wrong. The courts can’t punish him or her yet,
as there is nothing to show the commission of a crime. Preventive laws
thus allow for detention for a certain period of time without reference to
the courts. This is a power under SOSMA and it was a power under the
Internal Security Act 1960 (ISA, which was repealed in 2012 and replaced
by SOSMA).

The ISA was introduced by the British because they needed to arrest a lot
of so-called “communist bandits” and detain them. This idea carried over
from the independence of Malaya, and we retained the ISA for many years
until it was replaced by SOSMA. Both laws allow for detention without
trial, and both laws have been abused to detain political opponents of the
Barisan Nasional. In 2016 the Barisan Nasional Government invoked 121
SOSMA in the detention of several Bersih activists. This was absolutely
wrong. These people were not criminals or terrorists. They merely opposed
the Government and, for that, the Government used SOSMA to detain
them. It was an abuse of the law but the reality is that we do need a law
of this nature to safeguard the security of our country. Our view in the
Pakatan Harapan was that with the rise of terrorism and the potential of
terrorist acts being committed within Malaysia, we needed to maintain
SOSMA—but with adequate safeguards to ensure that it could not be
abused by politicians to detain their opponents.

We talked a lot about these issues when we were still in the Opposition, and
what we failed to do was to study the legal and procedural requirements to
realise our objectives. We made a lot of promises in the manifesto, but now,
having become the Government, we simply did not have the necessary
parliamentary majority to get them done—or indeed any other matter
that needed a constitutional amendment. We tried to reach out to the new
Opposition and ask them for bipartisan support for what we considered to
be matters of national interest. They abstained—which simply indicated
that they could not see beyond their role of denying support to the
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Government. They were the Opposition and they must not support the
Government on anything. They thought about themselves, and not about
the nation.

So, these kinds of manifesto promises placed a heavy strain on us. If we

simply couldn’t keep a promise, people would say, “Well, you have failed.
You have not carried out what you promised to do.”

I think an election manifesto should be short. It should deal with specific

points only. It should not be a long treatise, what more one with unrealistic
deadlines—we were obliged to deliver 10 promises within the first 100 days
of government, having not spent a single day as a Federal Government
before, and these weren’t minor promises: abolish the Goods and Services
Tax in favour of a fairer Sales and Service Tax; reintroduce a national petrol
subsidy mechanism targeting low-income groups; introduce an Employees
Provident Fund savings scheme for homemakers; forgive the debts of
settlers on Federal Land Development Authority (FELDA) agricultural
schemes; create mechanisms to allow deferred repayment of National
Higher Education Fund loans; increase the nationwide minimum wage
to RM1,500; introduce a RM500 annual subsidy for low-income families
122 at registered private clinics; form a special Cabinet committee to review
the Malaysia Agreement of 1963 and report within six months; establish
Royal Commissions to look into 1Malaysia Development Berhad as well
as alleged mismanagement at FELDA, Majlis Amanah Rakyat (MARA),
and Lembaga Tabung Haji (the Muslim Pilgrims’ Fund Board) while also
revamping their top leadership levels; and finally, perform detailed reviews
of all major Malaysian infrastructural projects awarded to foreign countries.

These were promises for just the first 100 days. They were followed by an
additional 60 promises divided into five “pillars”, and an additional five
sets of “special commitments” to particular social groups: FELDA settlers,
the Indian Malaysian community, women, youth and senior citizens. I
salute the civil society activists and journalists who diligently tried to hold
us accountable to each of these promises but, in my view, we should never
have agreed to be bogged down by such minutiae in the first place. Instead,
for any manifesto, you want to think generally: we need to create more
jobs, for example. Or we need infrastructure that will bring benefit to the
country. Or we should look into the state of government schools in Sabah
and Sarawak—they are old and crumbling. This is the kind of manifesto
that can be easily understood and measured, but when you talk about every
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

little thing that you want to achieve, you put yourself in a position where
you will likely never succeed.

There were those who thought these promises and pledges were very
good, but I firmly believe that the Malaysian people voted for the Pakatan
Harapan because they wanted Najib out more than anything else. They
identified the Opposition as the instrument of Najib’s overthrow, and
that’s why they supported us. That said, we did our best to keep all these
promises. By the end of our first year in Government, we achieved about 40
per cent. I thought this demonstrated at least our commitment to building
the nation and keeping our election promises—and I thought we had four
more years to make sure that the rest would be implemented. Most of us
in the Cabinet were confident that a great deal would be achieved before
our mandate ended.

A vision for shared prosperity

What we wanted to do urgently was to tackle the economic and financial
distress besetting the country. This involved openly acknowledging a bitter
truth that had become taboo: the New Economic Policy (NEP) was not
123
achievable.

We had the right idea of what to do, but the NEP elicited the wrong kind
of reaction. The policy was intended to reduce the economic inequalities
among the different races of Malaysia and also disassociate race from
economic function. In the latter goal, the NEP was somewhat successful—
we no longer think Malays are farmers, Chinese are traders, Indians are
lawyers, and so forth—but in terms of reducing inequalities, Malays simply
did not respond in the correct way, by and large. We gave them chances—
all kinds of economic incentives and opportunities such as government
contracts, but they literally sold them for profit.

The reason Malays could not make the best use of benefits such as share
allocations under the NEP was because they had no money to begin with.
What happens when you are allocated RM10,000 worth of shares but
don’t have the capital to buy them? First, you borrow the sum from the
bank. Next, you need to dispose of the shares quickly to pay off the loan
you took. Now, suppose a financier comes up to you and says: “Buy these
shares—I will give you the money, but you’ll have to deliver the shares
to me.” If you do this, all you’ll get is the minimum-added value. It’s a
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small short-term gain, and you will never grow your wealth this way. So,
for those who are committed to the NEP, the only way this will work is
if you somehow grow the wealth of the budding Malay investor before
the investment is made, so he or she can purchase and retain the share
allocation as a proper investment. Otherwise, it’s like giving a trishaw rider
a million ringgit and asking him to be an entrepreneur. He will not. He will
spend the million ringgit.

I address this issue in detail in the next chapter, and I mention it here only
to stress the importance of it in the context of our new Government. We
had to accept and understand the failure of the NEP, and we were not
going to allow similar failures to happen again under the Pakatan Harapan
Government. If you received a government contract and then sold it to a
third party, for example, it would automatically be voided. However, that
was just at the surface. We were looking for a deeper and more permanent
way to ensure equitable progress within the country—for the country, and
not just any specific stakeholder group. This was the crux of the Shared
Prosperity Vision (SPV), which was effectively the Pakatan Harapan’s
development policy for the country in the coming decades. A central part
of this policy was the recognition of economic disparities forming along
124 geographic lines, particularly the divide between urban centres and the
rural “hinterland”. Under the SPV, we wanted to ensure that the wealth
of the people in urban areas and rural areas should not be too far apart
in terms of ownership. We decided to concentrate on the rural poor—we
would continue to assist the urban poor but the rural poor must be helped
to catch up—but again, if people used government assistance as a means
to get rich quick, then we were going to fail again. So, from the outset if
you received a government contract, licence or permit and then sold it to
someone else, the Government would consider the contract broken.

There are so many economic opportunities today, especially with the

growth of online markets. On the whole, Malaysian small and medium
businesses have been quite poor at marketing, and for many years, we’ve
been producing things that haven’t gone to the market. But today, with
online marketing, you have some rural Malay folk making shawls or
keropok lekor (a traditional fish-paste snack) and they have the potential
to become millionaires. This is merely a single illustration to show that
it actually is possible to improve rural incomes without disrupting rural
life—we just need to improve on the existing rural economy by bringing it
into the 21st century.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

I was also developing a new model for agrarian reform. In Malaysia,

fragmentation is quite a big issue. One of the key problems was the
absence of land titles and the way inheritance laws worked. Back in
1956, the Government established FELDA for the express purpose of
rural development. The idea was simple: we would give each pioneer
10 acres of land, and in one fell swoop we would open up rural land for
agriculture, address rural unemployment, and help an entire generation
develop new skills. Personally, I thought that groups of 10-acre plots
would be administered together by a good plantation manager, but that
didn’t happen. There was a great deal of inefficiency and corruption, such
as when the Government provided aid in the form of fertilisers, but the
settlers sold the fertilisers for quick profits. In some cases, the pioneers
were not issued titles to their land at all out of concern that they would sell
the land to get rich quickly—which in fact happened in the state of Negeri
Sembilan. The pioneer settlers sold their land and became millionaires but
didn’t know how to manage money, and soon they ended back at square
one—poor, and landless to boot.

However, there was a greater problem that only became apparent after the
first generation of settlers passed on. When a pioneer dies, his children
inherit—and these are Muslims. They are bound by Muslim inheritance 125
laws that stipulate division of the inheritance among children according
to certain fixed proportions. Very soon agricultural land becomes
unmanageable this way, unless the children were to form a kind of
cooperative and let somebody else manage it. However, not many did this,
and very soon these landholdings began to fragment into sizes that just
weren’t enough to raise a decent income for a rural family. I proposed to
amalgamate these small plots into larger farms of at least 1,000 to 2,000
acres, which would then be placed under professional management. The
landowners would then derive a share of income according to the size
of their plots, and everyone would benefit from better and more efficient
management. For example, if you had two acres of land and you planted it
with oil palm, the income you would derive would be meagre and insecure
because it’s tied to a single cash crop in an era of very unstable prices. But
on a thousand-acre farm, we could plant a principal crop—say, oil palm or
rubber—as well as a diverse range of fruit trees such as bananas, pineapples
or durians, as well as vegetables, for which there was always immediate
domestic demand. As I write this, Malaysia imports RM60 billion worth
of vegetables each year—we don’t cultivate them because everyone focuses
on oil palm. Crop diversity can generate strong monthly incomes—even
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daily incomes because it doesn’t take long for vegetables to mature—but all
this needs to be professionally managed.

It is ironic that in my first government I was quite notorious for prioritising

manufacturing and heavy industry above agriculture, and then in my second
time as Prime Minister, I was deeply occupied with improving farming
incomes. The point is that we wanted to ensure that every Malaysian had
access to a fair share of wealth in the country. Not an equal share—the
idea of equality of wealth is unrealistic—rather, we wanted to achieve a
situation in which income inequality was kept at a minimum. I believe that
this is a central responsibility of government, and we wanted to emphasise
not just equality but fairness—between town and country, between one
state and another, one region and the next. For example, the states of
Sabah and Sarawak have oil and made a lot of money. As I write this
chapter in 2020, oil prices are depressed due to the COVID-19 pandemic,
but Sabah and Sarawak are wealthy. Sarawak’s annual budget, for example,
is RM11 billion. On the other hand, the annual budget of the state of
Kedah is RM700 million—it’s an agricultural state with no oil wealth. As
part of past government policy, Kedah is the “rice bowl” of the Peninsula.
It must produce rice in the name of food security, but we’re condemning
126 the people of Kedah to poverty. It isn’t fair, so how can we balance this? We
have to put up better infrastructure and invite investors—not necessarily
foreign investors, but local investors—to go big. I’m quite sure that the
system of farm amalgamation to “defragment” paddy smallholdings into
diversified 1,000-acre or 2,000-acre farms—producing cattle, goats, fish,
fruits and vegetables and more—will result in much better incomes that are
more stable and sustainable. This is not a path to fabulous riches, but it is a
means towards bridging the gap of economic disparity and creating access
to better opportunities for the rural population.

These were some of the principles we held fast to when designing the SPV.
In principle, it’s not very different from the NEP—we have many of the
same goals, but the focus now is not on “the Malays” so to speak, but
rather on all people, in all states, in all regions. We believe it is dangerous
to allow disparities to grow between one group and another, whether these
groups are defined by ethnicity or not. Tensions exist even within the
same ethnic group—between the rich and the poor, for example—and if
left unattended, these will spill into much larger, much more dangerous
conflagrations. Europe went through these violent convulsions in the lead-
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

up to the Communist revolution, and there is no need for us to repeat that

particular period of history in Malaysia.

I believe that the crux of communal ill-feeling often lies in economic

disparity. When these fester, racial, religious and cultural differences serve
to only emphasise the differences to the point where communities can no
longer even tolerate the existence of one another. If the disparity between
the rich and the poor is minimised and people get along well enough, then
racial, religious and cultural differences will be qualities we can celebrate
and enjoy. We know very well that the division between rich and poor is
the one single factor that has contributed the most to violence and social
upheaval throughout human history, and when that gap is aggravated by
differences of race and religion—Malays versus Chinese, for example, or
Muslims versus non-Muslims—then you will have a lot of trouble.

The devil is in the communication

All this looks wonderful on paper but the hard work is in the implementation.
To be perfectly fair, every Government in Malaysia has introduced good
policies over the years. Both the Barisan Nasional and the Pakatan
127
Harapan have people who are very dedicated to public service and they
have come up with some very good ideas, but the problem is always in
the implementation. There is often a lot of corruption, delays, inefficiency
and incompetent execution with all kinds of “Little Napoleons” (self-
important martinets with little real function) floating around. All this slows
implementation or, in some cases, stalls it entirely.

When a government makes a policy decision, it needs to know how it

is to be implemented from the very beginning—otherwise, it will never
be implemented. It’s not good enough to say, “Well, I want to enrich
the poor in the villages.” The important questions are: how? What is the
Government’s role? What is the role of the people? You may have the best
of intentions, but if the people don’t accept it, it won’t work. You also
need to know how to make new ideas acceptable to them—rural folk are
often quite conservative and resistant to change—and you have to explain
matters to bureaucrats at the ground level, who may be just as conservative
and stuck in their ways. I know this because I’ve been in government for
a long time. What I’ve seen over the years has been the same: the Cabinet
makes decisions by debating a matter fully, and only when that’s done
do we decide on it. The civil servants, who are going to implement the
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decision, don’t know why the Cabinet has made a particular decision. They
might think it is wrong, and if they translate this into their actions, the
implementation will suffer. So, as the Government we must explain our
decisions and we must know how to implement them.

This can be tough when the Ministers you have aren’t conversant in the
details of their portfolios. For example, let’s say you’re appointed Minister
for industrial development. You must know something about industry.
It’s just not good enough for you to climb on a podium and shout:
“We will industrialise!” How? How do you move an agrarian economy
towards industry? How do you achieve your goals if you have no idea,
no technical know-how, no capital, no management expertise? The short
answer is: acquire the knowledge. Acquire the expertise. Countries like
Japan have industrialised through their own capacity—their own people
made it happen. We couldn’t do that in Malaysia because we didn’t have
the technical capacity and expertise, so we invited foreign investors.
That was the beginning of foreign direct investment, and I would like to
claim that we invented this practice. Before that, it was so often the case
that newly independent countries avoided having any foreigners in their
countries. We went the other way, and there were actually more Europeans
128 after independence than before. We brought them back as “expats” not
“colonialists”, and we were very business-friendly. We prepared the ground
for them and they came by the thousands. Through this, Malaysia turned
from an agricultural country into an industrial one. That’s how it’s done:
grand visions and speeches are nice, but it’s the hard work and willingness
to think outside the box—and the ability to explain what you’re doing—
that make the real difference.

I recognise that the situation has changed so much from even my time
as Prime Minister from the 1980s to the early 2000s. Today, we still
have a penchant for speaking of economic development—and economic
access—in racial terms. I’ve done that a lot, and I’ve even been criticised
for generalising about Malays: I call them lazy, for example, although
the truth is that when I say that, I am addressing only those Malay folks
who are lazy and who choose to sell or throw away the opportunities for
which this country has sacrificed so much to provide them. The truth is
in 2021 we now have a lot of young Malays, and they are well educated.
They understand new technologies and are doing quite well. They have
successfully internalised the digital revolution, and in a growing number of
cases, they are leading change and doing all of us proud. I’m not addressing
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

them. I’m not even addressing the old farmer who just wants to plant paddy
and stick to the old ways, who says to you: “I’m old and near death. Why
should I bother to change? I earn enough to eat, and that’s enough.”

I’m addressing those who are a bit younger but still stuck in the old ways—
those who tend to think only of their immediate interests: “I have my
business,” they say. “I have enough to eat; I can perform the Haj; what more
do I need?” This is why the Malay hawker by the roadside will remain a
roadside hawker in the future. I’ve asked whether in the year 3000, they’re
still going to be hawkers on the roadside. “You have to move into a shop,”
I’d say. But moving into a shop involves costs, overheads and management.
“I don’t have to pay rent by the roadside,” they say. “I just find somewhere
shady and I put up a plastic sheet for a roof and I sell. When I don’t want
to sell, it doesn’t matter. I have enough.” That is the mentality. They don’t
talk about: “I have to make money today to save for a rainy day.” When
things go bad, they look to the Government for handouts, and they feel
entitled to it.

So be it. I can’t change them, but I am concerned about their children, and
the generation that comes after. These are the young people we need to
change, and it’s our duty as the political leadership of our country to help 129
them find a way forward that is not restricted by the ways of their parents.

We have to be able to communicate. Everything depends on this. I actually

go to Japan every year to teach Japanese teenagers “how to be Japanese”.
This sounds very strange but it’s true. The kids are confused between
Western values and Japanese values, and I’ve been a student and champion
of the Japanese work ethic and culture for many, many years. Syed Saddiq
Syed Abdul Rahman got to hear about this when he was still Youth and
Sports Minister. He was very interested in creating something similar, so
he established a forum to help develop young Malaysian leaders from all
the different communities that make up our country. The idea was to work
with small groups of young Malaysians to teach them about the changes
taking place in the world and at home, and to help them understand how to
benefit from those changes. It was a very good project, and I was very keen
on it. My hope for change lies in the hearts and minds of young people
of all races. We are not in government now, and I don’t think the present
leadership of old men can understand this. They have a different mindset
and are caught up in viewing the world in terms of race and religion. And
I’ve faced a lot of criticism for not being very “Islamic”, for not being very
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“Muslim”. If I have to take the blame, I’ll take it, but we have so much
work to do to shape the future citizens of this country through the right
kind of education that builds a proper value system.

This is so very important. We needed to teach a new value system—and we

still do, very much. That was our plan in the Pakatan Harapan, but before
we had the chance to truly embark on our new policies, we had to deal with
trouble brewing elsewhere in the country.

Setbacks abroad and at home

Four months after the general election, as the Pakatan Government was
finally settling down to the day-to-day business of governing the country,
I went to New York to attend the 73rd United Nations General Assembly
and to deliver Malaysia’s national statement at the General Debate. The
last time I stood before the assembly was in 2003, and the fact was I was
exhilarated to be there again in 2018. It felt very, very good to be there
again, representing my country and articulating an opinion that I believed
resonated among many in the world, especially with regard to a great and
powerful country that seemed to be riding roughshod over the whole world,
130
forcing people to accept their value systems and methods. If we didn’t
agree with them, they would apply pressure—sometimes subtle, sometimes
not. They disagreed with the Government of Iraq, for example, and they
invaded Iraq to displace its government. What would it mean for global
international relations if independent countries could be invaded simply
because they refused to obey the dictates of a more powerful country?

I also spoke about the general election that brought the Pakatan Harapan to
power. It was a watershed event in Malaysia and it succeeded in removing
a kleptocratic government and restoring democracy in our country. “The
new Malaysia,” I said, “will firmly espouse the principles promoted by
the UN in our international engagements. These include the principles of
truth, human rights, the rule of law, justice, fairness, responsibility and
accountability, as well as sustainability. It is within this context that the
new Government of Malaysia has pledged to ratify all remaining core UN
instruments related to the protection of human rights. It will not be easy
for us because Malaysia is multi-ethnic, multireligious, multicultural and
multilingual [...] but the new Government will accord space and time for
all to deliberate and to decide freely based on democracy.”
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

I thought these values were clear, and obviously beneficial. I believed

they were universal in application and would serve to protect all human
beings regardless of creed, colour, faith or class. Two months later,
however, the Pakatan Harapan Government retracted its pledge to ratify
the International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial
Discrimination (ICERD). ICERD seeks to oblige countries to ensure that
everyone, regardless of race, has rights to freedom of expression, peaceful
assembly, work, housing, medical care, social security and education.

The fact is, in Malaysia, affirmative action is built into the very foundation
of our law: the Federal Constitution. For example, indigenous people are
given special protections to make up for their disadvantages. Also, the
Government provides more educational scholarships to Malays because in
the past they had very few opportunities to study at university. These are all
forms of affirmative action expressed in the Constitution, and which also
includes policies favouring Malays for employment in the Civil Service. In
terms of Government policy, it has been understood from the beginning—
that is, when we were negotiating for independence from Britain—that we
needed ways to help not just the poor and the backward but the Malays
in particular, because our nation could not afford disparities in terms of
wealth and well-being that created racial fault lines between Malays and 131
non-Malays. This is why several forms of affirmative action have been
written into our Constitution.

So, the fact is Malaysian citizenship is not entirely “equal” in the sense that
there is this affirmative action, and it is entrenched in the Constitution.
For this reason, if politicians did not try to explain ICERD in a way that
was understandable in the context of Malaysia, it would not be accepted.
However, this should not have been a bar to the principles of ICERD.
Providing for the rights to freedom of expression, peaceful assembly,
housing, and so forth for all citizens does not imply removing the special
constitutional rights of others—let alone the basic rights of others—as
laid forth in the Constitution. Malays can still have their Government
scholarships and jobs in the Civil Service with ICERD, because having them
does not remove the access of any other Malaysian to common basic rights
provided under ICERD. And yet, it didn’t take long for mass protests to
erupt across the country. Malay-rights groups and political parties warned
that ratifying ICERD would effectively abolish Malay rights. UMNO
President Datuk Seri Dr Ahmad Zahid Hamidi, who was responsible for
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many of the incendiary speeches and statements on ICERD, said that

Malays would run amok if the Government ratified the treaty.

I did my best to explain the underlying significance of the treaty but anxiety
among Malays, stoked by anti-ICERD groups, forced the Government
to back down. This was personally disappointing for me. Even after we
announced the withdrawal—which, incidentally, the police had insisted on
for security reasons—organisers of a rally bringing thousands of Malays to
Dataran Merdeka in Kuala Lumpur on 8 December decided to go ahead
anyway. They apparently wanted to thank the Government for not signing
the treaty. This was mind-boggling, and my response through the Press was
terse: “It’s a democratic country. If they want to demonstrate, go ahead.
Just don’t make a mess.” As a result of this, Malaysia is one of only 14
countries in the world, including Brunei, Myanmar, and North Korea, that
have not signed or ratified the ICERD.

Soon after this, we had to deal with a fresh controversy involving the Rome
Statute of the International Criminal Court (ICC). The Rome Statute was
created specifically to empower the ICC as the first permanent, treaty-
based international criminal court with the ability to punish perpetrators of
132 genocide, war crimes, crimes against humanity and crimes of aggression.
These were issues close to my heart, and I was frustrated that we were
unable to ratify this treaty.

We have been to the International Court of Justice (ICJ) several times in the
past when seeking solutions to disputes we’ve had with our neighbours. We
respect the international courts and are bound by the decisions of the ICJ,
so there should never have been an issue of not trusting the ICC. However,
opposition to the Rome Statute began soon after then-Foreign Minister
Datuk Saifuddin Abdullah signed the Instrument of Accession on 4 March
2019. Critics declared that ratifying the treaty was unconstitutional as it
impinged upon the position of the Agong, and undermined Malay rights
and Islam. Six days later, the Tunku Mahkota (Crown Prince) of Johor,
Tunku Ismail Sultan Ibrahim, tweeted that the Government had failed to
consult the Conference of Rulers when it agreed to accede to the Rome
Statute, and that the Government had undermined the Rulers’ position.
This is untrue. The Government had no obligation to seek consent from
the Conference of Rulers as there were no constitutional amendments
involved in acceding to the Rome Statute. That said, the Pakatan Harapan
Government on its own initiative informed the acting Yang di-Pertuan
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Agong, Sultan Nazrin Shah, on 28 December 2018, as well as the current

Yang di-Pertuan Agong, Sultan Abdullah Shah, on 15 February 2019. We
took this step out of respect for the Palace. However, on 23 March, the
father of the Crown Prince of Johor, Sultan Ibrahim Sultan Iskandar—who
was the reigning Sultan of Johor—accused the Government of violating
the Federal Constitution by signing the Rome Statute. The Sultan said that
the Rome Statute, along with the attempt to ratify ICERD, affected the
monarchy and the position of the Malays and Islam, and that any party
that touched on the rights and powers of a Ruler or state government was
breaking the law and could be considered traitors.

As with ICERD, I tried to explain what the Rome Statute was about, but
rallies, demonstrations and all manner of opposition broke out to declare
that the statute posed a threat to the Agong’s immunity from prosecution.
So, on 5 April, a month after signing the Rome Statute, I announced our
withdrawal. “We understand that this has been a political move by certain
parties to get the Rulers to support them. I noted that we did not withdraw
because we were against the Rome Statute, but rather because of the
political confusion fomented by people with a vested interest. I also said
that I saw this as an attempt to blacken my face because they knew they
could not oust me easily.” I made every effort to refute claims that signing 133
the Rome Statute would threaten the rights of the Malays or that Malaysia
would lose its independence to form its own policies. The Rome Statute
would only apply in the event that Malaysia took excessive actions—war
crimes, crimes against humanity, genocide—and we had no intention of
doing any of that. Article 41 of the Federal Constitution does indeed
declare that the Yang di-Pertuan Agong is the Supreme Commander
of the Malaysian Armed Forces, but the King has no absolute power to
declare war. He carries out that duty on the advice of the Prime Minister
or Cabinet. As such, the Yang di-Pertuan Agong cannot be held legally
responsible for any of the crimes identified in the Rome Statute. Rather,
legal responsibility for the declaration of war and its conduct lies with the
Prime Minister and Cabinet.

Throughout its existence, only 27 cases have been brought before the ICC,
with four resulting in convictions. The ICC’s Office of the Prosecutor
is said to be conducting 11 investigations in 11 places, as well as 10
preliminary investigations where it monitors the situation in locations such
as Bangladesh, Myanmar, Palestine and the Philippines. A decade earlier,
the Minister in charge of law in the Barisan Nasional Government had
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expressed Malaysia’s readiness to adopt the treaty. The Prime Minister at

the time—Najib—then issued a policy direction for Malaysia to sign the
treaty after Israel’s attack on the Gaza Freedom Flotilla humanitarian fleet
on 31 May 2010. But it was members of that same Government who were
now agitating against the Rome Statute for narrow party-political benefit.
Had we successfully ratified the Statute, we would have joined a long list of
countries—including constitutional monarchies—that have had no qualms
signing: Belgium, Cambodia, Denmark, Japan, Jordan, Luxembourg, the
Netherlands, Norway, Spain, Sweden and the UK. We might have been
able to bring those responsible for shooting down Malaysia Airlines flight
MH17 to the ICC. Instead, we have no recourse to the ICC if we are
victims of the aggression of others, and I wonder whether Malaysians will
ever understand how important and necessary the ICC is. The ICC does
not seek to replace our own courts or the legal system in any country that
has signed the Rome Statute. Rather, the ICC is meant to complement the
courts in a particular country and would function as a “court of last resort”
if the country is unwilling or unable to genuinely take action.

These weren’t the only setbacks. There were also defeats on the home
front. Despite our stunning victory in the general election, we stumbled
134 badly in several by-elections that came soon after. Of the 12 by-elections
held between the general election in 2018 and January 2020, the Pakatan
Harapan won only five whereas the Barisan Nasional won seven, and on
average they enjoyed a margin of victory between four per cent and 38 per
cent. What happened?

In the Cameron Highlands parliamentary by-election on 26 January 2019,

we gave the contest to the DAP. They argued that this was their constituency,
and that they had a right to put up a candidate. This episode illustrates the
unavoidably racial dynamic that is always at play in Malaysian politics:
the DAP put up an ethnic Indian candidate, M. Manogaran—Indian
Malaysians are generally under-represented in politics and government,
and it so happens that the Cameron Highlands constituency has a high
proportion of ethnic Indian residents. Indeed, both the Barisan Nasional
and the Pakatan Harapan had previously fielded Indian candidates there.
The thinking was that this worked in the past, and it should work in the
present. Now, the Barisan Nasional put up a very good candidate—Ramli
Mohd Nor—who was not only Orang Asli (i.e., Ramli is a member of the
Semai-Temiar community, which is one of the indigenous communities
of Peninsular Malaysia), he was also a retired Assistant Commissioner
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

of Police who had served as Deputy Director of the federal Commercial

Crimes Department in Kuala Lumpur. To top it all off, his father, Datuk
Mohd Nor Abdullah, was a founding member of the legendary Senoi
Praaq—the police commando unit that had served with distinction during
the Communist Emergency. Ramli won with a majority of about 3,200
out of a total of 22,000 votes cast, and he became the first Orang Asli MP
in Malaysia.

Then there was the Tanjung Piai parliamentary by-election on 16 November

2019, where the Malaysian Chinese Association (MCA, a Barisan
Nasional component party) won by more than 15,000 votes from a total
of 38,800 votes cast. Bersatu contested this seat, which is in the state of
Johor, but the problem here was conflicts arising from the disenchantment
that some Chinese Malaysian voters in the constituency felt towards the
DAP. Now, DAP supremo Lim Kit Siang was very popular in Johor—he
was the sitting MP for another constituency in the state, Iskandar Puteri
(which he had won with a thumping majority of almost 45,000 votes), and
had previously represented yet another Johor seat, Gelang Patah, where he
had defeated Tan Sri Abdul Ghani Othman, a popular UMNO politician
who had been Chief Minister of Johor for four terms. Now, we found Kit
Siang being booed by Chinese voters who turned up at our rallies. We were 135
shocked. On further investigation it seemed that some of the actions of the
DAP since coming to power did not sit well with the Chinese community.
The chief issue was the withholding of funds from Tunku Abdul Rahman
College (TARC), which had been receiving generous allocations under
Najib’s Government.

The DAP was and still is a bitter rival of the MCA, which is one of the
founding members of the Alliance Party and subsequently the Barisan
Nasional, which governed Malaya and Malaysia from 1957 right up until
2018. Now, TARC is closely associated with the MCA, which founded it,
funded it and supported it all these years. It’s almost an MCA institution;
so, when the DAP became part of the Government, they basically wanted
to cut off government funding that had been allocated to the MCA.
Subsequently, they reversed their decision. The DAP is as much concerned
about Chinese Malaysians as is the MCA, but on this issue all the DAP
saw was an MCA entity and not an educational institution that was
actually benefiting the community. The DAP didn’t realise that the Chinese
community didn’t see TARC as something political at all. So, even though
 CAPTURING

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this issue had nothing to do with the Pakatan Harapan, it caused Chinese
voters to turn against us.

We also lost the Kimanis parliamentary by-election on 18 January 2020

where our Sabah partner, Parti Warisan Sabah, polled 10,677 votes against
UMNO’s 12,706. We attributed this defeat to poor communication in
explaining the controversial migrant pass that Warisan was planning to
push through, which the locals feared would pave the way for illegals to
gain citizenship.

I would like to stress here that my own party, Bersatu, was also not strong
enough to help our partners face these challenges. Many Malaysian parties
operate with a similar structure: there is a national leadership that deals
with broad vision and policy and then there are the divisions, which is
the party organisation at the level of the parliamentary constituency. The
divisions are further divided into several branches, which is the lowest
level of party organisation. Every member of the party is thus a member
of a branch, and political aspirants often work their way up through
branch leadership positions and then to the divisional level. Now, each
division usually has a clearly defined structure—a leader (chairperson), a
136 deputy, a committee, funding, and so forth—and it’s usually the case that
the divisional leader wields enormous influence over party affairs in the
constituency. The problem for Bersatu was that we built up this structure
with a lot of former UMNO people. Tan Sri Muhyiddin Yassin was in
charge of developing the party, and he appointed many former UMNO
members as divisional leaders.

Unfortunately, too many of these people decided to operate a kind of

closed shop—they wanted to wield the power to determine who would be
nominated to stand for election, and—this, I find appalling—they didn’t
want new members to join their divisions and dilute their influence. These
people were “warlords” in UMNO and now they were trying to build their
fiefdoms in Bersatu. At the national level at the time, all we saw was that
we were having trouble getting new members to join, and as a result our
party machinery was very weak. We didn’t have the campaigners to help
us to do the work during the by-elections, and we actually had to bring
in party-workers from other states. The unifying issue of defeating Najib
was no longer there—we defeated him at the general election. So, we lost
the support of Malays, we lost the support of Chinese, and, ultimately, we
were losing the by-elections.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

We urgently needed detailed, serious and frank post-mortems on what

had happened, but it was all too clear that we were facing a decline in
public support. One writer said that the Pakatan Harapan was “caught
between a rock and a hard place. Corruption is no longer the common
enemy. The Pakatan Harapan is yet to forge a common cause for the New
Malaysia—its greatest failure emphasised by the Tanjung Piai defeat.”5
Was the Pakatan Harapan functioning or was it dysfunctional? Complaints
ranged from the bickering within PKR to our apparent failure to arrest the
rising cost of living. The cost of living was in fact a major issue for our
Government. Indeed, we had repeatedly raised this topic in the run-up to
the general election, and the first pillar of our manifesto was the abolition
of the immensely unpopular GST, which many Malaysians blamed for the
spiralling rise in prices that had been going on for a long time. When we
came to power, we did indeed zero-rate GST for all goods and services,
and prices did fall quite significantly. However, they gradually rose again
when we reintroduced the Sales and Service Tax (SST). Some critics said
the SST was an inferior tax as it was more open to abuse and could be more
complicated from the perspective of compliance, but I felt that it had been
accepted before while the GST was much disliked when it was introduced.
Going back to a tax that had been well accepted seemed to be a good way
to deal with the GST. 137

In this regard, there was also the problem of the National Higher Education
Fund (Perbadanan Tabung Pendidikan Tinggi Nasional or PTPTN)—
based on the Pakatan Harapan manifesto, we were to restructure the fund
and abolish the blacklisting policy, which we did. But in no time, there
were suggestions to reintroduce a travel ban on loan defaulters, as up to
51 per cent of total borrowers hadn’t been paying their loans consistently,
while 19 per cent of borrowers had not repaid even a single sen. When we
were in the Opposition, it was easy to make decisions like abolishing the
PTPTN without thinking about the cost to the public. But once we became
the Government, we realised that the fund was very, very large, running
into billions of ringgit. The cost of living might be rising, but was it fair to
forgive these loans and pass the cost of doing so to the public? Would that
not simply be a case of obliging the people of Malaysia to bear the burden
of unpaid student debt? What kind of lesson in financial responsibility does
that teach? The simple fact is when you borrow money, you must repay—
especially when you can actually afford it. Many students graduated, were
5
Munir Majid, “Tg Piai by-election loss more than slap in face for PH”,
New Straits Times, 18 November 2019.
 CAPTURING

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working and making a lot of money for themselves, but not paying off their
loans. This was incredibly irresponsible as it deprived the next generation
of students of the use of the same facilities.

The Pakatan Harapan Government was not awash with money. We had
to use all the taxes we collected to pay the debts racked up by Najib’s
administration. If the money had been invested, we could have gone after
the investments and got the money back, perhaps. But no, the money was
not to be found anywhere, even to this day. How could we manage the
finances of the country by spending the way Najib had spent his stolen
money? Servicing the debts alone cost us millions of ringgit, so we
didn’t have money to hand out to people freely. We also didn’t believe in
handouts—we wanted people to be economically productive and create
real value for themselves. This is why we focused on improving the incomes
of Malaysians—especially those in the rural sector who had the least social
security and were most in danger of falling through the net. For example, I
had a plan to use digital marketing to help rural folks reach urban and semi-
urban markets that would in turn generate better incomes—but before we
could implement it, we were ousted. You see, it’s easy to make plans: “Oh,
we want to enrich the people.” Sure, but the question is: how?
138

The DAP bogey

Another problem was the perpetual Malay fear of the Chinese, which was
now exacerbated because there were more Chinese in the Government
than before. On 1 March 2020, Reuters published an article titled “Malays
strike back as turmoil opens way for return of nationalists.” In the story,
I read that “although Mahathir’s own rise in past decades was based on
prioritising what Malaysians referred to as ‘Bumiputera’, the coalition he
formed with more liberal old rival Anwar Ibrahim to win the 2018 elections
was unprecedented in its diversity.” More than 40 per cent of my Cabinet
was composed of non-Malays, which was quite different from Najib’s
administration with only one Indian Malaysian Minister and just a handful
of Chinese Malaysian Cabinet members. That was because UMNO was
the dominant party—it had the largest number of MPs, and the Cabinet
reflected that.

The Pakatan Harapan Government was different, and I mentioned that I

took pains to provide equitable representation in the Cabinet for all the five
partners in the coalition. People accepted this, at first. Malays accepted
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

this—it was a balanced Government that represented the interests of

a wide cross-section of Malaysian society, and the fact was that we had
never had a Malay-Muslim Government in Malaysia. However, Najib and
UMNO started playing up the fear that the DAP would somehow “destroy
the Malays”. This resonated among the Malays. Why? For generations,
people in UMNO and the Government had been claiming that the DAP
was the enemy. DAP members were Communists, pro-Chinese chauvinists,
and so forth, and now they were in the Government: of course, they were
planning to destroy the Malays—so it was claimed. This kind of thinking
is credible where the Malays are concerned, but the DAP was never in
control of the Pakatan Harapan Government, and was never out to destroy
anyone. The DAP could not do anything without the consent of the
Cabinet. They would put up a paper in the Cabinet, and we would debate.
The Cabinet rejected many of their suggestions, which is the usual business
of government. But Chinese Malaysians are frequently used as scapegoats
and so it was quite easy for Malays to believe that the DAP was somehow
pulling the strings of the Government.

This led in turn to the calling of a “Malay Dignity Congress” on 6

October 2019. To be sure, it was a very “Malay” event in terms of the
issues discussed, simply because some Malays felt that they weren’t doing 139
well because they couldn’t compete with the other races. There is a great
deal of visible disparity in terms of overall wealth among the different
races, for example. Malays see that the Chinese are doing better than they
are, and they fear the economic strength of the Chinese. They feel they
must counter this with some peculiar ideas: “Let’s hobble the Chinese by
abolishing Chinese-vernacular schools”, “We should outlaw the use of the
Chinese language”, that kind of thing. It is all very negative and insecure.
I attended the Congress and made a speech. I said that it was far better to
look at your own faults and correct them than to identify the perceived
faults of others. Other people will not change themselves just so that you
can succeed. This was the message I gave them. It wasn’t a very welcomed
message but I wanted them to stop the habit of blaming others for their
own failures.

There was a buzz in the media, especially in the Chinese Press, that I
was playing to the Malay gallery. In Malaysia, each race looks after itself.
If we are honest with ourselves, we should admit this. For example, the
Chinese community will continue to demand that Chinese schools be
maintained, that the Chinese language be used, and even to the point of
 CAPTURING

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inviting only Chinese-speaking people to apply for jobs. All this is viewed
as discriminatory, but it is the stand taken by the Chinese community
for reasons of their own. Education and cultural transmission are very
important to each community, and it’s often the case that businesses
serving Chinese-speaking clients need Chinese-educated people to work
for them. This doesn’t prevent a Chinese-speaking Malay person from
applying, but generally speaking, everybody talks about his or her own
race; his or her own community. We’re a multicultural country, not a
homogenous one where everyone is the same; and it simply isn’t true
to claim that we are non-racial. Everyone—Chinese, Malay, Indian,
everyone—we talk about issues from our own ethnic, cultural and often
religious perspectives because, for many people, these are inseparable from
their personal and political identities. Even in Parliament—and even in the
Cabinet—we find that an Indian Minister talks about problems affecting
Indian constituents, and Chinese Ministers talk about issues involving the
Chinese community. Malay Ministers talk about Malay problems. These
are all racial perspectives, and to say that there is no racial bias in the way
we all act is quite dishonest.

In the case of the Malays, they see themselves losing out—for example,
140 they are poor and somebody offers them money for their land. They would
like to retain their land but the offer is too good and they need the money;
so now we see decreasing land ownership among Malays in urban areas,
and they are being pushed further to the periphery. Not long ago, suburban
areas tended to be Malay constituencies. Today, suburban regions are fully
developed with high-rise buildings everywhere. Most of these communities
are ethnically diverse—but the issue is that poorer Malays have sold their
land and are now displaced. The fault line is both racial and economic,
and they fear they are gradually being pushed out of their own country.
They need to be able to talk about these fears—and I did say to the Malay
Dignity Congress that there was no point blaming other people for their
situation. I certainly didn’t attend that Congress to blame the Chinese. I
told the Malays there that the Chinese see opportunities and make use
of those opportunities. The Chinese civilisation is about 6,000 years old,
and they have survived a great deal of hardship, so much so that they can
survive anywhere. The Malay civilisation is about 1,000 years old. We can
learn a lot and shouldn’t waste the opportunity to do so. The seemingly
endless cycle of racial blame and fear of the other—the DAP or whoever—
is not going to end unless Malays admit their weaknesses and correct them.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Unity versus division

Despite all the complaints and objections, I felt satisfied with what the
Pakatan Harapan Government had achieved up to December 2019. I made
a point of reminding the public that the Pakatan Harapan coalition, despite
having different ideas, had stayed together. “Look at all these people, all
patriotic, five different parties all together. Where do you find that?” I said
to the Press. To be sure, members of the Pakatan Harapan had differences
of opinion but this did not stop us from doing our duty. The Cabinet was
functioning well, and when we had arguments, we were able to sit together
to reach a consensus.

I also told the Press that we would carry out election pledges within five
years. Some had been accomplished, some were halfway done, and some
would take longer. In due course, I said, all the pledges in the Pakatan
Harapan manifesto would be fulfilled. My priority was to end the scourge
of corruption and the widespread practice of giving and taking bribes. In
early November, I said, “All over the world today the most important thing
for the Government is to abolish corruption.” This was progressing well
under the Pakatan Harapan Government—as a first step, we made sure we
had people and systems in place to ensure that there would be a great deal
141
more transparency and accountability in the Government and in public
institutions. The next step was to build even more resilient systems and
processes that could put us at par with global good governance practices.

However, we didn’t have a common Pakatan Harapan objective or stand.

This was because we were representing our own parties: for example, the
DAP pushed its own agenda, and so did I, so did my party colleagues from
Bersatu, and so did PKR and Amanah. We all had our own agenda, which
was one reason why, later on, I proposed a unity government that would
have only a single objective and not push a party agenda. I think in the end
what weakened the Pakatan Harapan Government was the tendency of the
individual parties to think about their own goals and visions first, and not
that of a unified coalition.

Many Malays were also growing restless because government handouts

were significantly reduced under my administration. So used to receiving
“free money” from the previous Government, they were now clearly
dissatisfied with us, but we couldn’t afford to hand out the amounts that
they were accustomed to receiving. We did provide financial aid through
the Household Living Aid Scheme (Bantuan Sara Hidup) for low-income
 CAPTURING

HOPE

households earning in the range of RM2,000 to RM4,000 per month—but

at a total cost of RM5 billion for 4.1 million households, this involved
much less expenditure than that under Najib and it provided assistance
not only to the Malays but to everyone who was eligible. We also slashed
the funding for programmes and projects that were designed specifically
to secure political support for Najib. The Pakatan Harapan Government
was determined not to continue with the kind of political bribery that had
been going on. It was just wrong, but Malays in particular were unhappy
because they had been frequent recipients of Najib’s largesse, which they
had begun to view as an entitlement. This reduced my popularity but I
didn’t care. I didn’t want to buy popularity. I wanted to increase jobs and
support industries, both old and new. This was the only way to become
resilient, especially for the Malays.

We would have succeeded—and we will still succeed—as a united Malaysia.

The problem for the Pakatan Harapan in 2020, however, was the insecurity
of the Malays and the way politicians played this into open division. The
moment Najib lost the general election in 2018, he realised that he would
likely go to prison. How was he to avoid that? First, he tried to form a
coalition with Parti Islam Se-Malaysia (PAS). He called it a “Muslim
142 Government”, knowing full well that the Pakatan Harapan had a large
number of non-Muslims in its ranks. From 2018 to 2020, he constantly
made use of this to undermine the Pakatan Harapan Government, and
accused us of being “anti-Muslim” and “anti-Malay”. This is the kind of
divisive and incendiary rhetoric that insecure Malays are often influenced
by. Najib and his associates went further to accuse the Pakatan Harapan
Government of being under the thumb of the DAP. They simply ignored
the good that the Pakatan Harapan achieved.

As I mentioned at the outset, many countries in the world have endured

instability to the point of civil war whenever there was a change in
government. The Pakatan Harapan achieved an orderly transition. We
were a government of five parties working together for the first time, and
despite all the problems we had, we functioned well. We cleaned up the
machinery of government and we were in the process of charting the future
of our country, although it would take time to undo the years of economic
neglect and financial mismanagement under Najib’s administration. We
identified disparities between town and country, between state and state,
region and region, and between the communities. We worked to reduce the
disparities among all these groups.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

We were in the midst of doing actual work to change this country for
the better, but Najib and his henchmen kept harping on the issue of
the Pakatan Harapan being a “DAP Government”. How was it a DAP
Government when there were five of us in the coalition? How were we
anti-Malay when the majority of our plans would directly assist Malays in
rural areas and the poor states in Malaysia? For example, Kelantan—a state
in northern Peninsular Malaysia which has been under a PAS government
for decades—remains terribly poor. They couldn’t even pay their state
civil service salaries. We provided them RM400 million in assistance, and
we assisted the neighbouring state of Terengganu as well, which is also a
PAS state. These are Malay-majority states, and still we were accused of
oppressing Malays.

By January 2020 there were Press reports suggesting that the Pakatan
Harapan would be a one-term government. Yes, we had lost several by-
elections but this was not, by any means, an indication that we would lose
a general election. I told the Press that the Government was having a tough
time cleaning up the administration, finding money and paying off our
debts. Unfortunately, the Pakatan Harapan did not communicate all this
properly, and Najib had a team of cybertroopers working to discredit us
at every turn. His aim was to bring down the Government and become 143
Prime Minister again. He succeeded in whipping up Malay sentiment,
and ultimately his machinations resulted in my party, Bersatu, leaving the
Pakatan Harapan. Bersatu, together with Datuk Seri Mohamed Azmin
Ali’s faction in PKR, joined two parties of losers—UMNO and PAS—to
form a new Government by the back door that did not have the mandate
to govern. This is the situation as I write this: Najib has already been
convicted of seven of the charges against him, and yet he is free to wander
the country telling everyone how badly he has been treated. And there are
people out there who actually believe him. They call him “Boss” and kiss
his hand.

I know Najib has access to big data and he gets a lot of advice on how to
win over popular support. But I can’t imagine that people have forgotten
the crimes he has been found guilty of, let alone the many more that are
pending in the courts, to the point where some are prepared to say, “Okay,
he stole money but it’s not our money.” How can anyone say that stealing
is fine, simply because it’s not their money? Whether he stole my money
or your money, stealing is wrong. Some were even saying, “Okay, he was
wrong, but he is a Malay-Muslim. So, it’s all right.” Najib seems to have
 CAPTURING

HOPE

developed a new set of values, and a new culture for the Malays. But it is
not right, and it is not my culture. This culture will certainly destroy the
Malays in particular and the country as a whole.

In response, I told the Press: “If these people want him to come back (in
Government), go ahead. Vote for him at the 15th General Election but do
not expect Pakatan Harapan to return and correct his wrongs again.”

As it is, the Pakatan Harapan Government fell on 24 February 2020, and

with that our hopes for a better, more resilient and equitable Malaysia had
to wait.

144
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Chapter 7
The New Malay Dilemma

In the preceding chapter I mentioned the problem of the “DAP bogey”,

which beset the Pakatan Harapan Government from the earliest days
of our administration. Ultimately, there were a number of factors that
precipitated the fall of our Government in March 2020. One of the key
reasons—or excuses—used to justify our removal and the establishment
of the so-called “Malay-Muslim” government of the Perikatan Nasional
was the alleged “control” that the ethnic Chinese-dominated Democratic
Action Party (DAP) had over the Pakatan Harapan (and thus the country).
This was intolerable to those claiming to be Malay-Muslim nationalists.

The allegation was not only that the DAP controlled the Pakatan Harapan,
but that I was under the control of DAP chief Lim Guan Eng, who served
as Finance Minister in my Cabinet. These allegations were ridiculous. They
were an insult to me and to Malays generally. People forget that during the
Asian Financial Crisis of 1997–1998 the Government, led by me, was
able to resist the combined pressure of the International Monetary Fund
(IMF), the World Bank and all the international economic and financial 145
experts urging us to swallow the “bitter pill” that would see us basically
losing our economic and political sovereignty. As powerful as those people
were, there was nothing they could do to us because we resisted and
fought back. Furthermore, we proved them wrong on their own turf, and
as much as we were criticised for imposing currency controls at the time,
history now judges this to be very much the right thing to do. How then,
do the so-called Malay nationalists today claim that Guan Eng and the
DAP were more powerful and much more to be feared than the IMF, the
World Bank and the assembled weight of international financial opinion,
so much so that I and the rest of the Government could so easily be put
under their control?

However, as absurd as these allegations were, concerned Malaysian

leaders must know that there were—and still are—reasons for Malays
to be worried about their future and, by extension, to fear the perceived
economic dominance of Chinese Malaysians. It would be a mistake to
dismiss these fears as invalid or illegitimate. Even if Malays are wrong
about the true causes of their insecurity, the insecurity in itself is very real
and has real consequences. We often talk about the rich getting richer and
 CAPTURING

HOPE

the poor getting poorer. This is happening to the Malays—they feel that
their community as a whole is growing poorer and weaker.

The fear that Malays have of the Chinese is not a fear of physical violence.
It is the fear of Chinese dominance, of Malays losing their claim over
their Tanah Melayu—their Malay Land. The basis of this fear can be
found within the Malay community’s own inability to compete with the
Chinese, especially in the economic field. Political dominance isn’t good
enough to protect them. In fact, I believe political dominance has failed
them—infighting within the Malay political community has diminished
much of their political cohesion, but they have no choice but to cling to
political strength based on their numbers and the fact that they constitute
the indigenous people of the Malay Peninsula. Many within the Malay
community have grown inward-looking and frightened, and this fear
translates into racism and antagonism towards the Chinese in particular.
Whoever plays the racial and religious cards, which divide the communities
even more, will have a willing audience among these Malays.

Unfortunately, the Chinese community in Malaysia also contributes to

the systemic racism present in our country. Generally, the Chinese do
146 not like to be assimilated into the local culture—in fact, we almost never
mention the word “assimilation” in Malaysia. Everywhere around the
world, the expatriate Chinese community is proud of its language, culture,
religion and traditions. This is the same in Malaysia, and here the right
to Chinese vernacular education is protected in the Federal Constitution.
But where other overseas Chinese communities often keep to themselves
in homogenous geographical bubbles (i.e., Chinatowns), the situation in
Malaysia is quite different. We talk of “Chinatown” in Kuala Lumpur—
that is, the area around Petaling Street—but this is in fact a misnomer.
Many of the modern towns and cities throughout the country actually
began as Chinese settlements. At the start, few Malays could afford to live
in these urban areas, and as the towns expanded, Malays retreated further
into the rural regions, often selling their newly urbanised land at prices
affordable only to the Chinese.

By the time of independence, this racial urban-rural divide had already

become an accepted feature of Malaya. This is very apparent in Penang
and even in Singapore, where the Malay kampungs have disappeared. Even
in Kuala Lumpur and Ipoh the kampungs have been replaced by high-cost
residences, offices and shopping complexes. As the urban areas grow and
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

prosper, Malays find themselves retreating farther and farther away from
the centre. They end up living on the rural periphery where land is cheaper,
but also where amenities are few and opportunities almost non-existent.
With the passage of time the divide has bred resentment among Malays
as well as contempt among the urban, relatively wealthier Chinese who
look down on the “backward”, “lazy”, “useless” Malays. This is a recipe
for trouble.

I am speaking generally of the poor and the increasingly marginalised

Malay population. Of course, there are poor non-Malays, including
Chinese as well as relatively wealthy urban Malays. However, if you dig a
little deeper, you will find that the few urban Malay centres are often made
up of people depending on Government jobs. We can see this in Putrajaya,
which is a city built largely by the Government for Government employees,
who are mostly Malay. In Putrajaya, most of the shops are operated by
Malays, and they seem to be doing quite well. Here, the pendulum swings
in the opposite direction—the city is too Malay and does not reflect the
multiracial population of the country. We have three persistent fault lines
in Malaysia: we are so often preoccupied with racial differences, including
differences in language, culture and religion. Now we are also increasingly
separated by geography and income. 147

This is a very dangerous development that should not be ignored. It is entirely

natural for urban people to be more prosperous than rural people. Urban
centres are by definition the focal points of economic activity in a given
geographical area. There is much more activity at a much more advanced
level compared to the rural sector, and there are correspondingly many more
opportunities in a much larger variety of fields. This divide is already there—
and it’s apparent all over the world between town and country. Even within
ethnically homogenous communities there is antagonism between rich and
poor that often spills into open violence. But if this divide is amplified by
racial differences, the hostility is much stronger and runs much deeper.
However, we aren’t really allowed to talk about this in Malaysia. We cannot
talk about the racial riots of 13 May 1969 without provoking an uproar. If
Malay politicians talk about it, it’s often some kind of sabre-rattling and
intended to be a racial threat. Unfortunately, these incidents drown out real,
legitimate and honest discussion about 13 May and its impact on Malaysia
today. We are told incessantly to forget about this racial violence, which
is an irony because we are constantly reminded of it while being afforded
absolutely no chance to deal with it and move forward.
 CAPTURING

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Most of us know the saying by George Santayana: “Those who cannot

remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” The time has come for
us to talk openly and honestly not about racial or cultural assimilation
but about nationhood. As such, it’s also time to talk about assimilating
Malays into the towns and cities of Malaysia. For this to work, the Malay
community as a whole must learn the economics of urban life, otherwise
in 20 or 30 years the geographic and class division will affect the whole
of Malaysia.

I am deeply sceptical of socialist and communist political doctrines, but

I acknowledge that they were formulated in response to violent clashes
arising from the gap between the rich and the poor. As part of my political
education, I studied the works of prominent socialist and communist
writers, and I found that while their remedies were tragically mistaken,
their diagnoses were frequently correct. The origins of the social violence
they grappled with lay in the exploitation of the poor by the rich—Karl
Marx and Friedrich Engels studied the labour situation in England, where
capital was concentrated in the hands of the wealthy few while the poor
sold their labour in return for paltry wages. The poor were crammed
into tenements—which Charles Dickens wrote of—and they suffered
148 immensely. There was bound to be violence, especially when the poor
discovered that they had no other way out of their situations. So, what
happened? In Europe, the poor and disenfranchised formed labour unions
and declared strikes, and eventually the capitalists were forced to concede
and come to terms with the beginnings of what were now our labour laws
and the seeds of universal rights.

This was all very good, and I have no quarrel with unions and labour
negotiations—but then the politicians and ideologues stepped in. There
is now a lot of political capital to be made from exploiting differences
to gain support. In Russia, the Bolsheviks didn’t merely negotiate better
terms with the landowners. They killed them. They killed the Tsar and
his entire family. They killed the landowners and the wealthy. Over time,
the ostensibly “egalitarian” revolution devolved into outright tyranny
governed by dictatorship and fear. Do we want that for our country? Even
strikes harm not just employers but employees and their families. We must
achieve balance, but how?

In Malaysia it is not possible to change the racial origins of the different

communities that make up our citizenry. The differences are too great.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Assimilation is something everyone rejects, what with religious differences

and the inflexibility in the way Islam is practised, even with its strict
stand against interreligious marriage. Except for Indonesians and Muslim
Indians who have settled in Malaysia, there is very little assimilation at all.
Malays remain Malay, Chinese remain Chinese, Indians remain Indian,
and so forth. Even the major political parties are race-based—they might
claim to be multiracial, but there is always an overwhelming dominance by
one race or another.

I went to an English school when Malaya was a part of the British Empire.
My classmates were Chinese and Indian and we got on very well together.
In those days, we all tried to speak English but mostly we spoke Malay.
So, if you went to an English school the chances were that you would
get to know one another. You grew up together and you felt comfortable
with one another. In our country today, we have de facto segregation:
Government national and religious schools are predominantly, and in
some cases exclusively, Malay; while national-type vernacular schools are
the preserves of Indian and Chinese Malaysians, and the latter also attend
Chinese independent high schools entirely outside the national system.
This separation in childhood translates into separation in adulthood—
when you have to work together, you might find it very uncomfortable 149
because of the differences in the way of thinking and in value systems.
You also do not fully identify with the country because there is no national
identity. There is a Malay identity, Chinese identity, Indian identity, and
so forth, but those who are proud to be Malaysian-first are few, and those
who are simply, exclusively Malaysian are non-existent: even if you aren’t
racialist, everyone else will still want to classify you.

We cannot deny that the Chinese school system takes its inspiration from
the traditional educational system in China and Taiwan. When those
schools adopted Mandarin as the official language of instruction, our
Chinese schools followed suit, even though our principal dialects at the
time were not Mandarin but Hokkien, Hakka, Teochew, Cantonese, and
so forth. Even today, we have too many Chinese Malaysians who look to
China for guidance. By all means do so for traditions and culture, but what
about looking towards our own country in terms of national development
and nation-building? The trouble is, we have become so oversensitive that
when you talk about this, people get very angry. They might call you a
racist but isn’t all identity politics (Malay, Chinese, Indian, etc.) inherently
racist to some extent? I believe the Malaysian nation is one that is grounded
 CAPTURING

HOPE

in the culture and traditions of the Malay people; just as the French are
to France, the English to England, the Chinese to China, and the Indians
to India. This is a national identity, not a racial one. As a nation, we have
accepted and indeed assimilated many cultures and languages—in the
Malay language you’ll find Sanskrit, Portuguese, Dutch, Javanese, English,
and yes, even Chinese—but it is nevertheless the Malay language, and our
collective culture is likewise the Malaysian culture.

All this starts in school. I believe that if we all went to the same schools,
we would have a much better chance of being a united people simply
because we make friends with one another from a young age. I know I
court controversy in saying this, but the segregation into different schools
is a major barrier to Malaysian nationhood. The old folks who went to
English schools and the government schools up until the 1980s are so
much more likely to identify as Malaysian today, and truly appreciate
what that word means.

In all my years, I have not been able to change the education system. I tried,
with my idea for Vision Schools—where a single school complex would
house a government school, a Chinese school and a Tamil school. This
150 was shot down by everyone. I also tried to push for an English-medium
education. There was resistance, so I proposed that we focused this only
on the teaching of maths and science. Again, there was opposition. So, if
we cannot change our linguistic, religious and racial identities, then the
only other area we can work on immediately is income inequality among
the different communities, which was a key part of the Shared Prosperity
Vision that I wrote about in Chapter 6.

The New Economic Policy was not a total failure

Reading the previous chapter, you might have come away with the
impression that the New Economic Policy (NEP) was a complete failure.
It was not. In the field of education, it was actually very successful. When
I went to Singapore to study medicine, there were only seven Malays in my
college with me out of 70 students. Under the NEP, the Government made
it a point to ensure that Malays received scholarships that would enable
them to break out of the cycle of ignorance and poverty. Over the years, we
gave out thousands of scholarships, and I’m very pleased to say that many
recipients excelled. Some went on to obtain advanced degrees in nuclear
science and in medicine, and they came back to Malaysia and have done
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

very well. Now, I know there is a great deal of criticism as to whether all
these recipients actually merited the award of a government scholarship.
To be honest, in the final examination in school, they might not have
come first. They might have come second, third or fourth, but their ability
was there. We gave scholarships to those who in the past would not have
received a scholarship at all, but who showed promise and commitment.
Yes, this is affirmative action, and we were trying to favour this group so
that it could catch up with everyone else.

Many non-Malays felt excluded. To be sure, there were Chinese and

Indian government scholars. However, many others might have come in
first in the exams but did not win the scholarship of their choice. There
was also resentment at seeing the Government favour the Malay student
who did not do as well. This was fair criticism, but we could not abandon
our goal of breaking the cycle of Malay poverty through education. What
we did was to establish “twinning” arrangements between Malaysian
universities and reputable foreign universities. So, non-Malays who did
not get scholarships could gain entry into these programmes and spend
two years studying in Malaysia and one year at the partner university
abroad, and earn a degree from that university that was identical in
every respect to what a student fully resident in that university would 151
have received. This had the effect of making a full overseas education
affordable to Malaysian households because the fees were in ringgit, and
the teaching was done locally by academics fully qualified and accredited
with the partner university. That was what we did, and we grew the local
private university ecosystem to the point where for many Malaysians there
is now no need to go to the UK, the US or Australia for an actual world-
class British, American or Australian education.

So, we provided indirect assistance to non-Malay students but to be fair, the

Government helped Malay students and the Malay community as a whole
a great deal more. That, however, is as far as the NEP’s successes went.
We allocated a lot of contracts and projects to Malay-owned construction
and development firms, but they let us down. As I mentioned in the last
chapter, we issued them contracts, they sold the contracts. We gave them
licences, but they sold them. There was never any regret or even envy when
those who bought the contracts ended up making a great deal more money
through the proper execution of those contracts than the Malays did by
selling them off. There was an expectation that they could always apply
for more contracts, licences and permits, and sell those off as well. It was
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extremely frustrating, for instead of overcoming the problem, these so-

called Malay entrepreneurs remained poor and became more dependent
on the Government for handouts. When we cut off the contracts, they
got extremely upset. This is the culture of entitlement. All it achieves is
wastage and weakness.

But there are success stories even here. The people who run the Naza Group,
for example, have done very well. The founder, Tan Sri S.M. Nasimuddin
S.M. Amin, was a shrewd businessman who started selling second-hand
cars. Today, it is a conglomerate with interests in property development,
manufacturing, transportation, hospitality and motors. There are others as
well, but they are very few and far between considering the amount of time,
effort and money the Government spent to assist the Malay community.
My question is, why could companies like Naza grow but not others? I
believe it’s because Malays, by and large, don’t know how to make use of
the profits that their businesses make. If they have a good income, they
spend it building a nice house and buying a flashy car. They don’t see capital
as a vehicle to generate more income. Soon, they are poor again, especially
if they are in the business of selling their contracts and licences.

152 This is why I believe that handouts—especially cash assistance—do not

work. When people believe they can always get more handouts—or worse,
when they feel entitled to it—they have no incentive to do anything but
abuse the system. By and large, the economic agenda of the NEP resulted
in a lot of failures. The NEP ended up increasing the disparities between
Malays and Chinese—because the Malays abused the system so thoroughly.
Now, the same insecurities and fears of the Malays are growing again—
and yet again, they resort to the politics of race and religion in their search
for an answer.

Affirmative action—a necessary evil?

A number of people believe that affirmative action is detrimental to society
because it deprives a person of the incentive to work hard and compete on
the basis of merit. It might also encourage entitlement and rent-seeking.
While I am a critic of handouts, I don’t agree with this view of affirmative
action as a negative thing. Affirmative action should not actually involve a
deliberate absence of competition.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

There must be competition—albeit within a specific target group in a slightly

more controlled environment. This is especially important if the purpose
of the project is to prepare the target group for true competition. The idea
is not to lower the bar for everyone, but to create conditions where those
who would otherwise be left behind can catch up and ultimately compete at
the higher level with everyone else. It’s certainly not about the Government
giving an unfair advantage to a single group of people at the expense of
others, but what we don’t want to see is that group having to compete
with people who are much more experienced, and who have more money
and resources that allow them to succeed. For example, consider contract
pricing: a small business cannot possibly compete with the contract price
of a large corporation. Supposing a multinational corporation competes
against a local Malay corporation for the contract—obviously, the Malay
corporation will lose. The truth is, local Chinese Malaysian contractors
are in the same boat as well—they aren’t able to compete with the major
construction conglomerates coming out of mainland China who work
faster and are willing to negotiate good prices. So, if we put forward policies
to protect local Chinese Malaysian contractors, for example by reserving a
group of contracts for them, then this is the same kind of affirmative action
in their favour.
153
I used to point out that in golf, you use a system of handicaps to enable all
players to compete meaningfully against one another. If, say, you played
against Tiger Woods, you might get 30 points before he even starts in
order for you to compete. This is a normal part of everyday life: you’re a
citizen, and you’re afforded certain privileges in your country that others
are not. Or, consider the US in the Civil Rights era. For centuries, African-
Americans were oppressed and excluded from mainstream economic
and social life. The community had a long way to go to catch up in terms
of education, employment, wealth, health and other areas. So, the US
Government embarked on a broad range of affirmative action policies—
the phrase “affirmative action” originates in an executive order issued by
President John F. Kennedy—and their purpose is not just to help African-
Americans but also women and minorities as a whole. They get advantages
and quotas that are very similar to what we have in Malaysia, and in fact
affirmative action in the US continues to this day.

So, the concept of a handicap isn’t new or necessarily bad. We protect our
market through tariffs or import restrictions, and if we were to open our
market then you’d have to allow free and open competition, which could
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very well put locals out of business. This is what happened with Proton:
initially, we didn’t allow Korean cars to be imported into Malaysia. We
allowed a number of Japanese cars, and that was it. Proton won an 82
per cent share of the market. Then, we opened up the market to Korean
manufacturers, Germans and everybody else, and Proton’s market share fell
to 17 per cent because it was unable to compete with companies that were
dominating the global market. It’s like having a football match between a
team of 12-year-olds and an adult team. What do you expect will happen?

I think the vast majority of people consider affirmative action to be good,

and the main problem they have is if it is abused to benefit those who
do not deserve it. Politicians, for example, abuse quotas and contracts
to benefit themselves or their friends, and it is the Government’s duty to
ensure that such abuse does not occur. However, in Malaysia, we also tend
to complain that our affirmative action policies are specifically race-based.
A number of people have told me not to couch my arguments in terms of
race—but the problem is that it is race-based and goes a lot deeper than
merely providing a leg-up in terms of education or economic competition.
The Government does provide assistance to non-Malay communities and
they do come up faster because they have the right attitude. The problem
154 is that given the same treatment, the Malay community does not prosper
as well. This is the issue, and I believe that the Malays in my country must
understand that affirmative action cannot last forever. Eventually, we will
have to dismantle it and we will have to compete in the open market on the
basis of our merit.

Learning from one another

When we introduced the NEP in the 1970s, the word “race” wasn’t a bad
one. We talked about Malays, Chinese and Indians, and we talked about
the need to help the Malays. By “we” I mean everyone. Nobody considered
this to be racist. Over the years, however, some Malays began to question
whether favouring Malays through this kind of discrimination was right.
Some of these people would actually have gained their education through
the very same “discrimination” that provided them scholarships to study
abroad in the US and Europe. In those countries they saw that people there
rejected the idea of “race” and they considered government policy on the
basis of race as racist. So, when they came back, they convinced others
of this idea. These sentiments are fair enough—after all, look at South
Africa under the apartheid regime, or the US in the time of segregation.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

But apartheid and segregation served to entrench power in the hands of a

racial elite. It’s completely different from affirmative action.

Today, we consider everything through a multiracial, multicultural lens.

When we want to help people, we don’t say “Affirmative action in favour
of the Malays”; instead, we say, “We are trying to solve poverty among
all Malaysians, the Chinese in towns, the Indians in the estates, and the
Malays in the rural areas.” When we speak of eradicating poverty, we don’t
say, “Let’s end Malay poverty.” I understand this need, although I believe
that the problem of poverty in Malaysia is a Malay problem because it
affects so many people who are Malay and appears to persist from one
generation to the next. That said, for a government, the concept of ending
Malay poverty is not a zero-sum game that must occur at the expense of
ignoring poor Chinese, poor Indians, and so forth. Everyone must have
access to the assistance they need.

So, in 2019, the Pakatan Harapan Government introduced a new policy

to help Malays catch up with everyone else. I wrote of this in the previous
chapter—we called it the Shared Prosperity Vision (SPV). The new SPV
does not stress on race, but rather the difference in the incomes between
town and country. We don’t use the term “Rural Malay areas”: we recognise 155
that in cities and towns there are the poor of all races, and the bigger and
more urgent problem was the serious inequality in wealth according to
region. This was all part of the Pakatan Harapan policy. There are Malay
nationalists out there who will accuse us of ignoring the Malays, and this
no doubt contributes to the ridiculous idea that the DAP was in control
of the Government and wished ill on the Malay community. To these
Malays, the idea of a cash handout is an entitlement. Affirmative action
isn’t a policy designed to help them compete—it is instead, like apartheid,
a policy that should keep them wealthy and in power without having to do
much. Thankfully, these people are a minority. However, they have a very
large audience of Malays who somehow buy into all this.

This is the real problem. It really doesn’t matter what kind of policy the
Government rolls out if it cannot address the fundamental problem of
wrong attitudes and values. So, what is the problem? I may sound harsh in
saying this, but it is my honest opinion after decades spent in government
that generally speaking, Malays are an easy-going people who are not
terribly ambitious. They are easily contented—if they are able to meet
their immediate needs, it is enough—and they are disinclined to make
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the extra effort to grow their wealth. Given the choice, they prefer to take
the easy way out—investing and growing wealth is troublesome, full of
problems and responsibilities. Malays also tend to dismiss crimes and
misdemeanours as of little importance. When a Malay employer catches a
worker with his hand in the till, he merely dismisses the worker and forgets
about it. That worker then goes on to work somewhere else and steals
more money. In my view, this is a symptom of a breakdown in integrity
that allows a disturbingly large number of Malays to excuse grand-scale
corruption in political leaders.

Of course, I’m not saying for a moment that these are “racial characteristics”
or that all Malays are like this without exception—no, I mean only that
Malays must take a long and honest look at the values they hold, and think
about what and how we teach our young. For example, we do not teach
children things such as honour and integrity the way the Japanese do. We
don’t teach the value of education, of working hard—and working smart—
as a way to break cycles of poverty. We don’t teach Malay children the true
nature of money—that money is capital, not merely a means of exchange
for goods and services. We say, “It is not in our culture to do these things.”
Well, if that is so, then it is time we changed that.
156
These are just some elementary values that merely scratch the surface, but
I believe very strongly that good character resulting from the right values
is what determines the success of an individual or a community. Shared
values are what make a “race” successful or backward. So, when we try
to reduce the disparities between Malays and Chinese in Malaysia, what
we should really be looking at is how we can address the value system that
Malays hold dear but which actually does them a disservice.

Now, if you look at the Chinese community in Malaysia, you’ll see

immediately that it is more dynamic. This is an inherent part of their
value system. The ancestors of Chinese Malaysians came to the country as
immigrants. They left Imperial China at a time when it was going through
massive famines and political upheavals every few years. Those who had
the wherewithal to leave their homes and search for a new and better life
elsewhere already had an important attitude: your fate is in your own
hands. They came to the lands that would eventually become Malaysia—
indeed they went everywhere around the world—and they brought with
them the will and tenacity to survive. They came here to become coolies,
doing menial labour, carrying goods like sacks of rice using their own
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

strength. They did all kinds of work that we now consider hard and dirty.
But now, where are their grandchildren, great-grandchildren? Are they
still labourers? No, they are not. Generation after generation, they have
worked hard, studied hard, and improved themselves. If you look into the
background of the average Chinese Malaysian today, chances are you’ll
find that their forebears came here with nothing. They had terrible lives in
China—obviously, if they were having a good life in China, they wouldn’t
have left—and they built up new lives here with values that they passed
down to the next generation and the next, through education, culture and
shared experience. This is why Chinese Malaysians are proud of their
heritage, language and culture, and preserve them so well. Now, if you
ask Malays to compete with them—given the values and attitudes of the
Malays that I mentioned—do you think they will succeed?

Now consider the ancestors of Indian Malaysians, who came over when
the British opened their rubber estates. Why did they come in the first
place? Because Malays did not wish to tap rubber. The original Indian
immigrants also worked very hard and did well for themselves. Many
returned to India after some time, but many also settled in their new home,
and they worked hard, both in their jobs and in improving their education.
Indian Malaysians are very intelligent and make up a large proportion of 157
our professionals today. Certainly, they are very well represented in the
legal profession and politics—for an ethnic group that comprises less than
10 per cent of the Malaysian population, they are present in the top levels of
Government and there have been many first-rate Indian Federal Ministers.
Certainly, there are also many very, very poor Indians who are still living on
the estates—but this has been a failure of political leadership and warrants
urgent intervention. However, the truth still stands: for a community that
is relatively small in comparison to other ethnic communities in Malaysia,
Indian Malaysians have been very successful.

If only Malays can learn from their fellow citizens. I have tried throughout
most of my life to change the value system of the Malays. I have not been
successful. I write all this now because the time of my end is near, and I
can no longer campaign to change the way Malays think. Older Malays,
especially, cannot or will not change but I place my hopes in the younger
generation. I pray they will absorb new and better values and learn to stop
being afraid.
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Colonisation by foreign workers

If Malays do not change their laissez-faire ways, they will allow themselves
to be colonised again—not by a foreign power but by foreign labour. I
know that by saying this I will annoy a lot of people, especially the Malays
themselves. They get annoyed when I say, “Look, this country opened its
doors to the original Chinese and Indian immigrants because Malays did
not want to take on the tough jobs of working plantations or mining tin.
The Chinese and Indians who came saw a lot of opportunities here which
Malays did not.” Today, it is similar. Migrant workers from Bangladesh,
India, Nepal, Myanmar and elsewhere are prepared to take up the work
we are not prepared to do. Many of the migrant workers who come here
find a good life. Many want to stay, and even now we have two million
Bangladeshis here. Some marry locals, and eventually they will gain
citizenship. If we continue at this rate, Malays may well become a minority
in two or three decades. This is what I foresee and I base it on what I have
observed with my own eyes for more than 70 years.

If Malays complain, “Oh why are these people coming here?”, the answer
is that they come because you offer opportunities for them to earn a good
living. You are not prepared to do those jobs unlike in other countries where
158
people are prepared to take on even the toughest jobs. We Malaysians don’t
work at construction sites because it is too dusty, or the buildings are too
high. We don’t want to build roads because the sun is too hot. We don’t do
the dirty jobs; we don’t expose ourselves to hardship, let alone danger. Do
you notice that the migrant workers don’t go to Indonesia or the Philippines?
Why is that? It’s because there, Indonesians and Filipinos are taking on
the jobs in their own countries. But when you tell the Malays this, they
get very upset. If you say they are not prepared to work or you imply that
they are lazy, they get very angry indeed. Well, how else did we all end up
here? These are the facts. There is no purpose in fantasising about being the
victim of a grand conspiracy. These people did not come here to invade us.
They did not come here to rob us and steal our jobs. They did not wage war
on us. They came because we are a very open country. Anybody can come
here, stay here, work here, buy land here and settle down.

Yes, some wages might be too low for Malaysians to earn a decent living
when they have high costs to pay, but we find that even in supermarkets, in
hotels and in restaurants, with air conditioning, where it is very comfortable
and where the pay is actually good, foreign workers still fill many positions.
There are thousands of such jobs that are open to Malaysians. There is a
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

feeling of entitlement, even in entry-level jobs, that the pay must be high.
In any normal employment, if you start work with no experience, your
pay will be low. As you progress, you’ll earn more—far too many people
expect very high salaries from the very beginning. It isn’t realistic, here or
anywhere in the world. Thus, Malaysians tend to have the attitude that
if they don’t like the work, or if they can’t get along with their bosses or
colleagues, they quit and look for another job. Foreign workers such as
Bangladeshis, on the other hand, work very hard because they value the
jobs that they have. They are dedicated and diligent—you can’t expect
employers not to hire them—and the pay is good. We know this from
our currency outflows—Bangladeshis send home about RM2 billion each
month. That’s RM24 billion a year and is a complete loss to us. Ordinary
workers don’t have to worry about this, but it should be a grave concern to
the Government because when this happens, there is an outflow of funds,
which means that the contribution to our economic growth is reduced by
the amount that is sent out.

Besides this, there is also the subsidy mentality in Malaysia. The

Government gives fishermen (for example) RM300 a month. They then
develop the attitude that “even if I don’t go out fishing, it’s fine. RM300 is
enough to make ends meet.” Life isn’t easy, but we tend to make do with 159
less—less effort, less money, less wealth. When you point this out people
get angry, and it’s very hard to convince those who simply do not wish to
hear the truth. They prefer to hear nice things, like “Oh, we will give you
RM1,200 in cash assistance next year.” We need to hear unpleasant truths,
for if we do not, we will never know the mistakes we make. If we never
know our mistakes, we will never be able to correct them.

When the British were here, they called us “lazy natives”. We were angry
with that—I was angry—but the British left more than 50 years ago and we
still have many of the same problems in our attitudes and values. Now, I’m
not suggesting that all Malays are lazy, or that Malays are a “lazy race” or
anything like that. There are Malays who work extremely hard. Throughout
the COVID-19 pandemic, we saw many Malay nurses, doctors, hospital
staff, delivery workers, and more all working day and night, exposing
themselves to danger and hardship, and standing shoulder to shoulder with
all other Malaysians to help heal our country. To all these people I say,
“Thank you. You make us proud.” But I’m not addressing them when I
speak of Malays who are lazy. I’m addressing the rent-seekers, the ones
who live on subsidies and handouts and refuse to work, the ones who think
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earning just enough to eat is all the work that’s needed. I’m criticising the
ones who say, “Well if I don’t work, the Government must pay me for not
working. Give me some income or I won’t vote for you.”

There is an old English saying: “You can lead a horse to water but you can’t
make him drink.” We showed Malays the way forward with the NEP; we
showed how well they could do; we gave them opportunities in education
and in work; we reserved quotas for them in a variety of industries and
businesses; we provided capital; and we even provided discounts for
housing. But they sold these opportunities, and they sold the contracts.
They chose to get rich quickly, and then they spent all their money and were
back at square one: poor, and dependent on the Government. “We plant
paddy,” they say. “We are poor and you have to give us subsidies.” You tell
them to change, to adapt to the new economy, to seize the opportunities
the Government has provided. But no, they wish to continue with their
old ways. These are people who are allowing the country to be colonised
again, and it makes me very unhappy.

There is another cultural characteristic of Malays that is detrimental to

their progress: the almost feudal subservience to royalty and people with
160 titles. It is very difficult to move them away from this because this kind
of obeisance is a central part of Malay tradition and culture. I believe it
is part of the Malay psyche, so much so that the more they feel under
pressure, the more they retreat into feudal values. The Malay Rulers are
the guardians of the religion of Islam, of Malay traditions and culture, and
by extension, they are seen to be the guardians of the Malays themselves.
When something goes awry, Malays run to the royals for protection—and
it’s difficult for me even to talk about this in public without being labelled
a republican or an “anti-royal” or, as usual, a dictator. It’s actually difficult
for anyone to talk about this.

Early in 2020, an actor and radio show host, Patrick Teoh, criticised the
actions of the Crown Prince of Johor on social media and shared a video
of the Crown Prince firing firearms as part of his Johor Military Force
(JMF) training exercise. Patrick was arrested and charged with insulting
him with an obscene remark. The offending post was later deleted from
his Facebook account. Now, there is no law that protects the Crown
Prince from public criticism. True, you cannot talk bad about the Rulers
themselves, but no such law places the Crown Prince in a similarly
exalted position. Furthermore, as the Crown Prince indulges in politics
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

and political commentary, he must at the very least expect to be criticised.

Now, just because Patrick said something in the open, he was accused of
insulting the Crown Prince. This is not a criminal matter that warrants the
involvement of the police. If the Crown Prince felt insulted, he should have
sued Patrick for defamation. Patrick should not have been detained and
remanded. This is not the law, nor is it even the custom of the royal houses
in the days of old. There is a Malay saying, attributed to the legendary
warrior Hang Jebat: “Raja adil raja disembah, raja zalim raja disanggah” (The
just king must be respected, the cruel king must be disputed). The business
with the Crown Prince shows that citizens may not comment on the doings
of royals even when something wrong has been done. This goes beyond
the pale.

Malaysia is a constitutional monarchy, and this is entrenched in the

Constitution. The Constitution also shows that the monarchy has a certain
role to play, as does the political leadership, as does the citizenry. All these
roles and responsibilities are abundantly clear in the Constitution, and the
time has come for us to have a national conversation about the nature of
constitutional monarchy and the fit and proper constitutional roles that the
Rulers are limited to. Rulers should not participate in politics—that is very
clear—and they should not be involved in commerce as there has been a 161
practice of people using the Palace for unfair advantage precisely because
feudal ideals still run so deeply in the Malay consciousness. I realise that
by writing and publishing this, I open myself to condemnation—but the
conversation is necessary.

Reading all this, you might get the impression that I have no faith in the
Malays at all. On the contrary: if I believed there was no strength in the
Malay community, I would not try so hard to help them succeed. There are
many who are in fact brilliant, and we have had many Malay intellectuals
like Ahmad Boestamam, his son Rustam Sani and many others, but they
usually tend to be on the left of the political spectrum—socialists, and
occasionally communists. Basically, Malay intellectuals dislike politicians.
They think that politicians are doing all the wrong things. They do think
they can do a better job—but they don’t understand that they have to go into
politics, and if you go into politics you will get hammered. It’s the nature
of the beast, so they don’t go into politics. They stay on the outside and
criticise the politicians who are trying to run the country. They themselves
are unwilling to risk being popular because they see what happens in the
liberal West: politicians are at the mercy of the electorate. But this isn’t
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democracy, in my view. It is populism, and the trouble with populism is if

the entire political system degenerates into populism, what you will have
is moral collapse because you no longer can say “no”. However, I believe
Malay intellectuals today—those with principle and conviction as well
as great intellect—have a duty to stand and be counted, and not merely
observe from the outside. There is a great deal at risk, and I truly believe
the Malay community stands in danger of undoing itself.

When I talk about helping the Malays or focusing on their problems and
experiences, I do not for a moment subscribe to the notion of Malay
supremacy—Ketuanan Melayu—which is the idea that Malays are the true
“lords of the land” and all others are interlopers, immigrants, “guests”. The
idea of Ketuanan Melayu is perceived to be an UMNO ideology, although
in truth it is not. Certainly, it was propagated by an UMNO politician, the
late Tan Sri Abdullah Ahmad, and later championed by some others, but
the person who blew it up and made it much larger than it deserved to be
was Datuk Paduka Ibrahim Ali, and he did this on his own. The idea of
Ketuanan Melayu—that your racial birthright entitles you to overlordship of
the land—comes from insecurity. Ibrahim Ali and his supporters wanted
to emphasise that this country belonged to the Malays, and therefore they
162 were tuan (masters). But this is a fantasy. Malays are not tuan—they cannot
even make use of opportunities given to them by the Government.

I do not believe in Ketuanan Melayu. I believe in Bangsa Malaysia—

the Malaysian Nation—and I introduced the slogan “Malaysia Boleh”
(Malaysia Can). Why did I introduce this? To convince our people that we
could do what others could do. I later had to use the term “Melayu Boleh”
(Malays Can) as well, to help Malays get over their inferiority complex.
All it takes is the will to believe in yourself. This is what I was trying to
encourage. Historically, before the coming of the Chinese, the Malays
had quite a successful business exporting jungle produce in exchange for
goods from other countries, including Imperial China. When the Chinese
came, they were much more efficient at trade, but instead of learning from
them, the Malays retreated. They gave up. They simply thought that they
couldn’t compete with these people. Actually, they could have if they had
tried. I always point out that Malaysia might not be the best administered
country in the world, but the Malays have run this country from before
independence and beyond. We developed this into a multiracial country—
it wasn’t an easy task, but Malays made it work.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

I am a Malay, and I do not believe I am inferior or stupid, nor do I believe that

Malays are inferior or stupid. Many simply have the wrong values. Values
can be changed—it is hard work, but it is far from impossible. A lot of it
is in the mind: there are many Malays who have graduated with advanced
degrees in business administration, finance, economics and commerce.
Many corporate bankers in Malaysia today are Malay, and we have Malays
employed by foreign companies as senior executives completely on the basis
of merit. These are Malays who were convinced that they could achieve
what they set out to do—and they went and did it. On the other hand, if you
are convinced that you cannot—if you have an inferiority complex—then
you will fail. This is the difference between Ketuanan Melayu and Malaysia
Boleh. It takes all of us, the whole of Malaysia, to compete on the global
stage, and together, we can achieve anything.

The Malay Dilemma—50 years on

When I published The Malay Dilemma in 1970, my main concerns centred
on the economic performance of the Malays. They were very poor, and
I believed that poverty could be ascribed to a set of specific causes. In
the intervening years, we’ve identified those causes in detail and I have
163
spoken at length about them. Today, I believe the economic dilemma still
persists, albeit in different forms—but what is much worse now is the
political dilemma.

When I wrote The Malay Dilemma there were only UMNO and Parti Islam
Se-Malaysia (PAS). In the early days, UMNO was the nationalist party that
stood very strongly for patriotism. PAS stood for Islam and the Afterlife. As
individuals, we knew who we were, and we knew which party we identified
with. Most Malays chose UMNO. But with the rise of PAS, Malays started
to be divided. The Malays of Malaya were all Sunni Muslims and followers
of the Shafie school of Islamic jurisprudence. There were no serious splits
among them as they adhered to the same teachings. It was only when PAS
began labelling all non-members of PAS as kafir (infidels) that the Malays
became divided. This eventually contributed to the Memali Incident in
November 1985 in which the followers of a man called Ibrahim Libya
killed four policemen and wounded several others, with Ibrahim and 13
followers also dying in the fray.

After that incident, however, PAS began cooperating with the DAP, despite
the fact that PAS said that Muslims who cooperated with infidels would
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themselves become infidels. Meanwhile, the victories of PAS in Kelantan

only brought the state misfortune. The actions of PAS when it controlled
the state government also damaged Malaysia’s reputation as an Islamic
country. Whether this was or was not the party’s intention, it was certainly
the result of its actions.

On top of that, over the years, UMNO itself has been split time and again
by people who each wanted to become Prime Minister, so much so that
in our politics today, the Malay identity itself has become fractured along
these political and religious lines. This is what the Malay Dilemma is
today: “Do I choose this party, or that party, or that party, or that other
party?” Many Malays now find that UMNO, the party they have supported
for generations, has descended into chaos with many of its leaders facing
charges for corruption and other crimes. They can’t abide by that, but
who among the others can they support? Some backed Datuk Seri Anwar
Ibrahim’s multiracial party—Parti Keadilan Rakyat. Also, Parti Amanah
Negara, which broke away from PAS, is multi-ethnic and multireligious.
When we formed Bersatu, we formed it as a Malay party because we
believed that Malays still felt insecure and needed a Malay party to advance
their interests. They trusted a Malay party that was not UMNO, which had
164 become corrupted after 60 years in power by politicians seeking to become
rich by using their positions.

However, the problem with the Malay political narrative today is that it is
no longer about the economic and social struggle of the Malays. Rather,
it is the politics of self-interest. Far too many Malays think of joining a
political party solely for the chance of making money, of being appointed
Minister, and so forth. Conversely, they avoid smaller parties and parties
with integrity because those parties are poor—they can’t provide money or
jobs. But it is not about choosing parties—it is about having integrity, or
not. This is the political dilemma today, and it is so insidious that I believe
it can destroy our nation.

Our values have changed. In the old days we talked about Malay
nationalism—Kebangsaan Melayu. But today such ideas are wrapped up in
Ketuanan Melayu. We are also very concerned about being open and fair to
all Malaysians, so we try to formulate policies without a racial lens. But
reality is starkly different. The sentiment on the ground is still predominantly
racial: Malays feel poor. They feel oppressed by the other communities,
particularly the Chinese. They look upon the other communities and see
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

strong political champions who do a lot to help their communities and

they wonder: where are the Malay champions? Who will take care of
my people? This mindset is fundamentally fearful and racialist. It’s why
when Datuk Seri Najib Razak claimed that the DAP was on a mission to
destroy Malays, many rushed to agree with him. What they do not admit
is that there is something fundamentally wrong in their attitude to life.
Sure, Chinese Malaysians may be relatively wealthy compared to Malays,
and some of them might well be oppressing you, but just blaming them or
complaining doesn’t change anything. We have to look into what we can
do for ourselves to make ourselves better, less fearful, more competitive
and more open. Those in Government have a responsibility to address and
engage these problems and approach them in terms that resonate with the
Malay community.

This was the crux of what I told the Malay Dignity Congress that convened
on 6 October 2019. The Congress received a lot of media attention and
some people said it was an attempt to play the race card, and that it was a
political tool—look, Dr Mahathir is launching it, so it must be his idea—
but it was not.

Malaysia is a multiracial and multicultural country—each race defends 165

itself and advances its own agenda, as I said in the previous chapter. Yes,
we do have politicians who are willing to embrace a larger nationhood
beyond race, but the fact is each political party engages in and reinforces a
political discourse that is inherently racial. For example, as I mentioned in
the previous chapter, everyone talks about his or her own race, in his or her
own language and for the benefit of his or her own racial community. This
happens around the table in coffee shops and goes all the way to Parliament
and the Federal Cabinet: Indian politicians talk about Indian problems,
Chinese politicians talk about Chinese problems, Malay politicians talk
about Malay problems, and so forth.

To say there is no racial bias in Malaysia is nonsense. We all talk about

race or we engage with modes of thought that are racial. It is present in
almost every facet of our society. Consider the census data and the forms
you fill in—you tick: Malay, Chinese, Indian, Others. Landlords lease
houses with racist conditions: “Chinese only” or “No Indians allowed”.
Whether or not any of this is the right thing to do is a different matter,
but to say there is no racial bias is wrong. In the case of the Malays, what
they see is the regression of their community. They believe they are losing
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ground and that they are gradually being pushed out of their country. If
we suppress this expression of feeling, and if we avoid discussing it and
grappling with it, we will drive it underground where it will fester into
resentment and hatred.

I have talked about the need for honesty, and I’m rarely liked for it. It is fine,
but if you are angry reading this, at least consider that it is precisely this
attitude, and this fracture that has weakened so many Malays to the point
that they are willing to believe whatever nonsense fed to them by politicians
and religious ideologues. It has come to the point where some Malays have
serious difficulty differentiating between truth and falsehood, and nowhere
is this clearer in recent times than in the attitude towards Datuk Seri Najib
Razak. Najib has done so many wrong things. He has been put on trial and
convicted of some of the many charges against him, but he is still allowed
to move around freely. People go around saying “Malu apa, bossku?” That
is, “Oh, my boss, what have you done to be ashamed of?” It is utterly mind-
boggling that fantasies like this are actually accepted by some people. “It’s
alright,” they say. “It’s okay. It doesn’t matter if he’s a thief—he’s Malay
and he’s our leader.” I can’t understand it, and I don’t know whether others
understand this, but what they are saying about Najib is: “Why should
166 he be ashamed? He’s the boss. He is Malay and a good Muslim leader.”
When given the chance to lead this country, he abused that power. He stole
money from the people. Is that what a good Muslim does? Is that what
being Malay stands for? Are these the values Malays should be proud of?
And yet there are people who say, “Yes, he took money, but it wasn’t our
money. In fact, he gave some money to us. Hooray!” It is disgusting.

It is this same attitude that leads to resentment of non-Malays because

they criticise the actions of some Malay leaders, for example when Tan Sri
Muhyiddin Yassin populated leadership positions of government-linked
companies (GLCs) with Malays of questionable competence and integrity.
In response, Malays say, “These non-Malays, they are always out to get
us. This is an opportunity for us. We are getting these jobs because we
can do them as well as anybody else. They are jealous of us because we
have these opportunities.” But the issue here is that good Malays are being
replaced with bad ones. They are not replacing Malays with Chinese—
they are removing Malay professionals with proven ability and integrity
and replacing them with Malay politicians with no experience who
can only think about how to stay popular and how to make money for
themselves. Sometimes, they are not even honest. For example, after taking
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

power through the back door in March 2020, Muhyiddin had to shore up
support or lose a motion of confidence in Parliament. I write about this in
greater detail in Chapter 11, but here I will say only that Muhyiddin went
around offering positions to MPs, making them Ministers and offering
them high-paying posts in GLCs. There was one particular Minister with a
terrible record and who was even being charged in court—and yet here he
was with a brand-new job, having displaced a competent and experienced
professional. This is how entire institutions begin to fail. How does any of
this contribute towards the progress of Malaysian society?

If the Malay political leadership acts this way and sets this kind of example
to the country, what do we expect will happen? As such, I believe the impetus
for change—the social revolution, if you will—must come from within
the Malay community itself, from Malays who are sick and tired of being
perpetually let down by political leaders who do not have the necessary
integrity and principle to be worthy of representing the community. Malays
must rise up and say, “We will not tolerate this any more.”

I truly hope younger Malays will answer this call. Young Malays are better
educated, have strong professional experience and are willing to listen—
and this includes listening to my explanations about what has happened 167
to this country, why it has happened and why it is the young who should
do something to prevent things from getting worse. I have the experience
of having seen this country develop over the course of more than 70 years,
and I can provide the service of helping them learn the lessons of history—
lest they repeat the mistakes of their forebears. This is what I tell them, and
they are quite receptive. They are our hope for the future, and they are our
best chance to resolve the Malay Dilemma once and for all.
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Chapter 8
Muslims in Crisis

The religion of Islam is bound up very closely with being Malay. It is a

salve and a beacon, but it has also become a refuge for those who seek to
identify with something greater than themselves. In this respect, to these
people, Islam is not just a religion or a way of life. It is also a definition of
self, making it an extremely sensitive subject in most parts of the Muslim
world and in Malaysia too.

And yet, if they were to stop and simply read the news, would they not
wonder why many Muslim countries around the world are in a state of
crisis? It is distressing to see the despair, hopelessness and violence in
Syria, Yemen, Gaza, Iraq, Libya and other places. Thousands die in open
conflict, many perish in attempts to escape war, and so many are forced
to seek refuge in non-Muslim countries. Those who cannot flee live in
extreme poverty or oppressed conditions without any hope for a better
future. Muslims are perpetrating violent acts against other Muslims. In
the name of Islam, they ostracise, punish and kill each other, and even
168 when they escape the turbulence in their own countries and settle down in
countries where they are welcomed, the violence follows them. They target
civilians, carry out suicide attacks—all in the name of Islam—which only
succeeds in turning their hosts against them.

Muslims have a right to be frustrated and angry. Their lands have been
taken away from them and their governments have not protected them but
the reaction of a radicalised few has brought Islam and all Muslims into
disrepute. They have denigrated our religion in the eyes of the world.

Those Muslims in progressive countries must do something. Sitting by

and complaining offers no solution. In this light, Malaysia organised the
Kuala Lumpur Summit in December 2019 to find new, workable solutions
to problems afflicting the Muslim world. It was intended to be a first step,
and our discussions focused on failed and underdeveloped Muslim states,
the displacement of Muslims worldwide, food security, the national and
cultural identities of Muslims, and Islamophobia. We invited over 400
leaders, thinkers and scholars to sit together to give their observations and
viewpoints. Among the leaders who attended the Summit were Iranian
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

President Hassan Rouhani, Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan and

the Emir of Qatar, Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad al-Thani.

The Pakistani Prime Minister, Imran Ahmad Khan, a keen supporter

of the Summit at first, pulled out at the last minute. Another country
that was invited but declined to attend was Saudi Arabia. They wanted
the forum to be held under the auspices of the Organisation of Islamic
Cooperation (OIC). Even though the Malaysian Government explained
that the Summit was not a platform to discuss religion or religious affairs
but to specifically address the state of the Muslim Ummah, Saudi Arabia’s
glaring absence, given its prominence in the Muslim world, generated
considerable media attention.

When the Press asked whether the Summit was an attempt to create a
new bloc to replace the OIC, I explained that rebuilding Muslim countries
was an urgent task requiring consensus. In my experience, the OIC has
never achieved consensus. The OIC has 57 member-states representing
1.8 billion Muslims and considers itself the collective voice of the Muslim
world—but if one country objects, no decision can be made, and nothing
is done. There were also some reports describing the Summit as an exercise
in optics and rhetoric. One article said the initiatives were overambitious as 169
there was even a suggestion that Muslim countries should use a common
currency. However, I was grateful that we were finally coming together to
exchange ideas on issues affecting Muslim countries. Certainly, in the areas
of development and good governance, there was much to discuss.

To pull ourselves out of the morass, I told the Summit that Muslims first
had to establish the causes of the fratricidal wars, civil wars, sectarian
clashes, failed governments and other catastrophes that had been plaguing
the Ummah for generations, and find ways to effectively end or reduce
them, otherwise, we would forever be helpless and unworthy of this great
religion meant for humankind. The countries that had been devastated by
the Second World War—countries on both sides of the conflict—were able
to recover quickly and grow stronger, but this ability to bounce back was
missing in many Muslim countries. They have either remained stagnant
or regressed further. Take the Arab Spring: this was a series of anti-
government protests, uprisings, and armed rebellions that spread across
much of the Arab world in early 2010. What became of it? In most of the
countries affected, there has been a reversion to military rule. Many people
from the Arab Spring countries have fled their homes to seek refuge in non-
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Muslim countries. It is a bad thing for Muslims to have to reject their own
countries to find peace among non-Muslims. Was Islam—the religion of
peace—responsible for causing these difficulties, or was the Arab Spring
scuttled by power-hungry people abusing their positions and using Islam
to justify their self-serving actions?

Today, there isn’t a single developed Muslim country. We don’t see the
products of Muslim countries being sold in the global markets of the world
at par with the products of Japan, South Korea, China and many European
countries. Muslim countries can’t even produce modern weapons for their
own defence. What does this tell you? At the very least, we need to know
why the Muslim world has been left in the lurch. I know this will upset a
number of people, but we must be honest: the first question we should ask
is whether obstructions to progress are coming from the religion itself. Is
Islam against worldly success?

The Quran stipulates that Muslims have both personal and communal
responsibilities in this world. As articulated in the fardhu khifayah, which
is a legal obligation in Islam, Muslim communities must provide for their
own well-being to ensure peace and stability. Failure to do so is equivalent
170 to forsaking the religion, which is a sin. As I write this, the current
COVID-19 pandemic is raging. Muslims conduct special prayers to appeal
to Allah for protection, as part of our fardhu khifayah obligations, but is this
enough? Should we not also be involved in medical research to develop
an antiviral vaccine? Should we not join the search to discover more ways
to protect humanity from infection? Wearing masks is crucial—although
people in all parts of the world seem to have trouble understanding this—
and the new normal of social distancing is our first line of defence against
the spread of the virus. And yet there are Muslims who say, “Oh, I’m going
to the mosque. I shall pray, and I don’t have to depend on all these things.”
If you are lucky enough, you will avoid infection but prayer alone will not
protect you. As the Quran says in Surah Ar-Ra’d, verse 11: “God will not
change the conditions of a people until they change what is in themselves.”

The early generations of Muslims faithfully followed the Quranic

injunctions. In the first revelation in Surah Al-Alaq, verse 1, God
commanded the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) to read: “Iqra’.” For several
centuries, this was what the Muslims did. They read the Quran and they
also gathered knowledge from their neighbours: Jews, Christians, Greeks
and Romans, and the people of the Indian subcontinent. We know this
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

because Muslim treatises on geography, astronomy, the natural sciences,

medicine and mathematics all elaborated on the writings of scholars and
thinkers from these lands. Muslims mastered these disciplines and made
many life-changing discoveries.

Renowned Muslims such as Al-Khwarizmi (c.780–c.850), a Central Asian

polymath and founder of algebra, developed the concept of algorithms,
which is essential to us in the application and development of modern
technology. Another polymath, Al-Biruni (973–c.1050), made significant
contributions to the fields of mathematics and astronomy. He invented the
concept of minutes and seconds and was a pioneer in geodesy. He was also
an historian, chronologist, linguist and anthropologist. Ibn Sina (980–1037),
also known in the West as Avicenna, was the pre-eminent philosopher and
physician of the Islamic world who sought to reconcile rational philosophy
with Islamic knowledge. He devoted his life to proving the existence of
God scientifically through reason and logic. As the acknowledged Father
of Early Modern Medicine, his research and writings are still held in high
regard in the medical world today. There were many other notable thinkers
and scientists from Spain to Syria and Kazakhstan. In the Golden Age of
Islam from the 8th to the 13th centuries, these individuals made remarkable
contributions to science, philosophy, astronomy, physics, psychology, 171
mathematics, Islamic jurisprudence and even music theory. Their writings
were later accepted by other civilisations including the Europeans whose
Renaissance derived much from the Islamic civilisation and the texts
preserved in the great libraries of Cordoba, Baghdad and Alexandria.

The eclipse of reason in the Islamic World

However, dramatic shifts occurred in the 15th century when Muslim
religious scholars gained ascendency over the philosophers and decided
that there was no merit in studying anything except the religion of Islam.
With that, Muslim scholars in the sciences, mathematics, geography and
astronomy gradually disappeared, and Muslim civilisation regressed. The
centres of knowledge and learning shifted to Europe, paving the way for
their Renaissance and, eventually, the Enlightenment of the 18th century.
Left without these scientists and mathematicians, Muslims were unable
to participate in the Industrial Revolution that was to come. When the
Europeans developed steam engines and eventually the internal combustion
engine, the Muslim world continued with their hand-made things. As the
Europeans progressed into manufacturing, Muslims were left farther and
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farther behind, eventually becoming entirely dependent on the products of

the non-Muslim world.

With the introduction of new technologies in the 20th and 21st centuries,
the disparities between the development of the Muslim and non-Muslim
world increased tremendously. It is not even a matter of Muslims catching
up with Europe. Asia—Japan, Korea, China, and now perhaps even
countries like Vietnam—are moving far, far ahead, while the Muslim
world is left far behind. To be sure, there was an attempt even as late as the
19th century to oppose the narrow practice of the religion. Two modernist
Islamic scholars from Egypt, Jamal al-Din al-Afghani (1838–1897) and
Muhammad Abduh (1849–1905), tried to modernise the religion by urging
the adoption of Western sciences and institutions to strengthen Islam, but
their attempts were thwarted. Conservatives already had the upper hand
and took action against them. Furthermore, the people who inherited their
legacy did not promote their teachings. These people now call themselves
the Muslim Brotherhood, but the teaching of Islam went back to square
one, and Muslims continue to fight each other.

What is the reason for this? Could the emergence of multiple, often
172 competing “Islams” based on the teachings of different scholars be one
of the reasons for the dire state of Muslim countries today? All Muslims
know that the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) brought a single unitary Islam.
These different interpretations of the religion came almost immediately
after the passing of the Prophet in 632. Disagreements over his succession
resulted in a major rift, splitting the Muslim community into two distinct
groups: Sunnis and Shias. The Sunnis were further divided based on the
interpretations and teachings of the Four Imams, while the Shias followed
the teachings of 12 different Imams.

These different sects, schools of thought and different sets of Islamic law,
have bred further division over the years, and each of them upends one
of the most important teachings in Islam: the brotherhood of Muslims.
Not one but several verses refer to this. Surah Al Imran, verse 103, reads:
“And hold fast, all together, by the rope which God (stretches out to you)
and be not divided among yourselves.” Surah Al-Hujurat, verse 10, states
that: “The Believers are but a single Brotherhood.” Surah Al-Anbiya, verse
92, reminds believers that “Verily, this brotherhood of yours is a single
brotherhood,” and the same message appears in Surah Al-Mu’minun in
verse 52.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

These are mukhkamat verses. That is to say, they are accepted as conclusive
and the meaning is unambiguous. As Muslims, we are enjoined to do what
brothers do best: care and look out for one another. It matters not that Muslims
are from different races or citizens of different countries. Of paramount
importance is that they respect and regard one another as brothers. Sadly,
however, brotherhood is a rarity among Muslim countries and communities
today. In parts of the Muslim world, Muslims are constantly at war and
slaughter one another relentlessly. Elsewhere, they spend all their time
finding ways to prove how un-Islamic the other side is. If you ask them
why they are fighting each other, their explanation is usually this: “They
are our enemy, therefore we must fight them.” Such has been their enmity
that they are prepared to seek the support of non-Muslims in the war to
destroy their co-religionists. For example, each time the Abbasids fought the
Umayyads, they were not satisfied with defeating the other side. They tried
to wipe out the entire tribe. Their fights were always about revenge, and
never about resolution. “I want to kill them because they killed our people.”
That is the rationale for their belligerence. Influenced by pre-Islamic values
such as tribal kinship, the warring parties repeated this pattern of fighting,
retaliating and massacring each other for generations.

To win in any major conflict, one needs a winning strategy. After winning, 173
the next obvious step is to establish peace. For the Arabs, however, winning
does not seem to be a priority, otherwise they would have developed
strategies to recover the lands they have lost. For example, every time
Palestinians strike at Israel, Israel defeats them and acquires more of their
land. Soon the whole of Palestine will belong to Israel, and the major
powers recognise Israel but not Palestine because there is no Palestinian
state. There is only a Palestinian Authority. And yet, instead of working
together to salvage what they have, they turn on each other: the bitter
hostilities between Fatah and Hamas sometimes seem more palpable than
their collective enmity towards the Israelis. Tied to their tribal ways, they
seem unable to break out of this vicious cycle. That this is not Islamic
doesn’t seem to deter them.

I have spoken to some Arab leaders about this perplexing problem. I said:
in any fight, reduce your enemies and increase your friends. For instance,
in Europe, there are still some people who are friendly towards the Arabs,
but when you settle down in their countries and cause trouble there, you
can’t expect them to be sympathetic towards you. Islam allows you to seek
help and refuge but if you turn on the very people who help you, and kill
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innocent people, all you end up doing is to turn your friends into enemies,
and you strengthen general Islamophobia. Besides, nothing changes for the
many who are left in their home countries. Unable and unwilling to see the
futility of their actions, many young Arabs still say, “When I grow up, I
want to become a martyr for Islam.” Obviously, they know nothing about
Islam if this is what they believe. Consider Al-Baghdadi, the man who led
Daesh—he declared that it was acceptable to kill a Muslim even though the
Quran stated emphatically (in Surah Al-Ma’idah, verse 32) that “Whoever
takes a life—unless as a punishment for murder or mischief in the land—it
will be as if they killed all of humanity.”

Where is the compassion? Before Muslims do most things, they say

“Bismillahirrahmanirrahim”, which means “In the name of God, the
Most Merciful and the Most Compassionate.” And yet, even the legal
punishments meted out by Muslims frequently show little mercy or
compassion. Yes, amputation of the hand is the penalty for stealing as
prescribed under Shariah law (Muslim religious law), but I believe that the
investigation and circumstances of the case must be taken into account
to reduce the harshness of the penalty. If a man steals because he and his
family are starving, this fact must be a mitigating factor in the judge’s final
174 decision. I do not believe Islam is uncaring—rather, it is Muslims wanting
to show the strength of their belief by imposing severe punishments that
gives the religion its harshness.

I believe that this state of affairs has much to do with the respect shown
towards the ulama (religious scholars) who transmit and interpret religious
knowledge to Muslims. It is said that the ulama are the “successors of the
Prophet”, and many are indeed learned and wise. Over the centuries, the
ulama have written copiously on various aspects of the religion, including
Islamic doctrine and law. But not everyone who has a religious education is
an alim (the singular of ulama), although many are keen to claim that title
and status for themselves. When Muslim religious teachers in Malaysia
formed an association called Persatuan Ulama Malaysia (the Malaysian
Association of Ulama) in 1972, even fresh university graduates joining
the association were calling themselves ulama. There are also ulama of
dubious antecedents who interpret the Quran to suit their own agenda.
Their interpretations can sometimes differ so greatly from the mainstream
that their followers declare all other teachings to be un-Islamic. Violence
and even wars have resulted from these clashes of interpretation.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

I recall some of the pronouncements made by the ulama when I was a

child. There was a time when motor vehicles were banned from carrying
deceased Muslims to the cemetery. There was also a ban on the installation
of electricity in mosques, presumably because these were inventions of the
non-Muslim infidels—the kafir. There was also an assumption that a poor
person would always be pious and devout whereas a rich person would
not care for the religion. Another pronouncement was that you could not
wear a peaked cap, as this prevented you from praying. So, there was a time
when a military service in Turkey—the Janissaries—rioted against wearing
the peaked cap. Nowadays, we wear peaked caps when we have to. When
we want to pray, we just take them off! But such are the pronouncements
of the ulama, that we now reject the rigorous and enlightened sciences and
rationality of the Golden Age of Islam. Instead, many of the practices
in Muslim countries around the world were inherited from pre-Islamic
times. For instance, in Afghanistan, if you don’t keep a beard, you could
be sentenced to death. So, all the men grow very large beards there to show
what good Muslims they are. Also, the way women dress has become
a measure of their adherence to Islam. In some countries, women are
covered completely top to toe in black. In Afghanistan, you might not even
see a woman’s eyes. The burqa covering her from head to toe would have a
net in front of her eyes to enable the woman to see where she was going. It 175
must be stifling and uncomfortable, especially in hot weather, to be covered
completely in a burqa.

In Saudi Arabia where they adhere to the ultraconservative, austere and

puritanical Wahhabi tradition, women wear the niqab, which covers
the face but not the eyes. The reason given is that a woman must hide
her beauty or she will excite men if they see her face, an innovation not
found in the Quran, which requires the face and hands to be exposed.
Wahhabism is going backwards, trying to add to the teachings of Islam by
making it more severe. For example, to uphold the First Pillar of Islam—
that is, to worship God and none other than God—the Wahhabis have
destroyed the graves of many of the Companions of the Prophet to stop
people from visiting them. Any attempt to venerate the dead is wrong, say
the Wahhabis. I very much doubt that Muslims visiting these graves were
actually praying to the dead—I believe they visit graves to pray to God for
the souls of the deceased. The Wahhabis do not care. In fact, they have
eliminated anything historical about the Prophet. At the Mosque of al-
Qiblatayn in Medina, Saudi Arabia, there were once markers that showed
that in the past, Muslims performed prayers facing Jerusalem. Later, they
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faced Mecca. This showed the development of Islamic prayers, but now
the whole mosque has been destroyed and a new mosque built which does
not show the mark of the old qiblat.

However, non-Arab Muslims still look up to Saudi Arabia. As the

birthplace of Islam and the custodian of the great mosques of Mecca
and Medina, Saudi Arabia is the model for Muslims around the world,
and in Malaysia we emulate the Saudis in so many ways—especially in
the way we dress. We even view the Arabs as superior in all things to do
with religion. But Islam is not just for the Arabs. It is most clearly stated
in Surah Al-Hujurat, verse 13: “O mankind! Truly We created you from
a male and a female, and We made you peoples and tribes that you may
come to know one another. Surely the most noble of you before God are
the most reverent of you. Truly God is Knowing, Aware.” It is further
emphasised in Surah Al-Ma’idah, verse 48: “And had God willed, He
would have made you one community, but [He willed otherwise], that He
might try you in that which He has given you. So vie with one another
in good deeds. Unto God shall be your return all together, and He will
inform you of that wherein you differ.” The Prophet, in his last sermon,
also reminded the community that: “All humans are descended from
176 Adam and Eve […] There is no superiority of an Arab over a non-Arab,
or of a non-Arab over an Arab, and no superiority of a white person over a
black person or of a black person over a white person, except on the basis
of personal piety and righteousness.”

Even with such evidence, there are Muslims who still believe they are
superior to others. Muslims in Malaysia, for example, don’t like to hear
that Islam, Christianity and Judaism share many similarities. First, all
three religions stem from the same source, but if you say this, you will be
condemned. If you say that we worship the same God, Muslims won’t like
it—and yet the prophets of Islam are also the prophets of the Christians
and the prophets of the Jews. The story of Lut in the Quran is the story of
Lot in the Torah and the Bible. We also share many other similarities with
the Christians and Jews, such as fasting, although there are differences in
the way the three religions observe the fast.

Despite these commonalities, many Muslims consider Christians and Jews

to be their enemies. They flatly refuse to accept any similarities with them.
They don’t think the God they pray to is the same God. But the Quran says
explicitly: “If there is anybody you can trust, who will be kind to you, it
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

is a Christian.” When the first Muslims were persecuted in Mecca, they

fled to a Christian country—Abyssinia, which is Ethiopia today. There
was a Christian king there who received them and gave them refuge. The
Muslims were not persecuted and they stayed there until they could return
to their own land. Today, the same thing is happening: Muslims are fleeing
Muslim countries to seek refuge in Christian countries. By and large, they
are not treated badly, and many are fully accepted. There are, however,
individuals like Jihadi John who was brought up in England and speaks
English like an Englishman, but who has shown utterly no gratitude to
the country that has protected him. In Islam this is completely wrong. At
the very least, it is Allah who wills the treatment you receive, and when
you do something against the people who provide you with protection, it
is not Islam. This is the consequence of putting politics ahead of faith. In
so many instances, we have mixed up our politics with religion, creating
much confusion among Muslims, and there are those who prefer this state
of confusion as it allows them to whip up support for whatever they want
to do.

The emergence of political Islam in the 20th century has strengthened the
stature and influence of the ulama. Today, they form political parties, head
public and private religious institutions, advise monarchs and political 177
leaders, and influence the laws of their respective nations. Political parties
hoping to secure the Muslim vote often misquote the Quran. Governments
enhance their “Islamic credentials” by setting up Islamic schools and
colleges where the tenets of Islam are often ignored. All this is politics,
plain and simple. It has nothing to do with Islam. Seen in the best light,
these developments have given the ulama the opportunity to influence
Muslims into accepting the teachings of Islam. Unfortunately, the reality
is they have neglected the true teachings of the Quran and instead stress
exclusively on the Afterlife. To them, securing a place in heaven appears to
be the sole objective of Islam when in fact we are entitled to our portion in
this life. The Quran says (in Surah Al-Qasas, verse 77): “Don’t forget your
portion in this world.” But I have rarely heard an alim talking about this.
What they sometimes say is that this world, the material world of this life,
is for the kafir, and that Muslims will receive a good life in heaven.

The Muslim way of life

In Malaysia, religious teachers tell Muslims to uphold Cara Hidup Islam (the
Islamic Way of Life) but what does this mean? Is it just about wearing a jubah
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and white caps and turbans? Does the Islamic way of life disregard the well-
being and security of Muslims? Are we not enjoined to ensure our safety from
aggression, and to be prepared to defend ourselves? Actually, the ulama have
a great responsibility to transmit and interpret religious knowledge found in
the Quran, and not just from books or opinions acquired from their teachers
or the great scholars of the past. You can determine for yourself whether
some ulama do this or not by the way they selectively interpret Quranic
verses and other Islamic sources for their own ends. Consider the issue of
polygamy: in Surah An-Nisa, verse 3, the Quran says, “You may marry two,
three or four but if you cannot do justice to them, you should marry one.”
Verse 129 of the same Surah says that men cannot be just to women. Surely
the implication of this is that a man should marry only one. Only under
certain circumstances may you marry more than one. The ulama do like to
stress the first part while omitting the second, and because of this incomplete
reading of the verse, many Muslim women are forced to put up with neglect
and abandonment by their polygamous husbands, or are stuck in oppressive
marital and financial situations. Despite evidence of the psychological
trauma and economic difficulties caused by polygamy on families, most
ulama still repeat this incomplete interpretation of the message.

178 Another example of a misinterpretation is the story of Zulaikha and Yusuf,

found in Surah Yusuf, which the ulama like to use as the model of marital
bliss for newlyweds. I have read the Quran in Malay and English and have
not found a single passage in the Quran that said Zulaikha and Yusuf
were actually married. Instead, the story is one of attempted seduction:
Zulaikha was infatuated with Yusuf and tried to seduce him. Those who
tell this story at weddings may have acquired this questionable version of
the couple’s eventual marriage from books written by religious teachers,
but it is certainly not in the source text. I have spoken to several muftis
(experts in Islamic law) about this and their explanation is that “later on,
the two did get married.” Later on is later on. At the time the attempted
seduction took place, they weren’t married and the lesson to be derived
from this story might be something else but it does not make a model of a
good married couple for newlyweds.

Another example: to defend the Ummah from those who are hostile to
Muslims, the Quran says in Surah Al-Anfal, verse 60: “Prepare whatever
forces you [believers] can muster, including warhorses, to frighten off God’s
enemies and yours, and warn others unknown to you but known to God.
Whatever you give in God’s cause will be repaid to you in full, and you
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

will not be wronged.” Ignoring the historical context, some ulama have
translated this verse literally and have encouraged Muslims to learn to ride
horses. What we need today are advanced defence systems and technologies
at par with the rest of the world, which we should produce ourselves. We
need things like rockets and missiles, supersonic aircraft and guided missile
destroyers complemented with the necessary personnel training and first-
rate military logistics. We do not need to learn to ride horses.

Takdir Tuhan—the Malay phrase to indicate that something is “preordained

by God”—is the answer regularly given by the ulama in Malaysia when a
tragedy or calamity befalls us. Hence, it was takdir that 25 people, mostly
children, died in a pre-dawn fire at an Islamic religious school in 2017.
Even parents of the children who perished in the fire kept saying this:
whatever happens is preordained by God. But by the same token, isn’t
a mandatory installation of fire protection systems also “preordained by
God”? If the school had been equipped with working fire extinguishers and
properly planned fire escape routes, and if the owner of the establishment
had met the requirements of the Fire and Rescue Department to ensure
the safety of all occupants in the building, then the chances of surviving a
fire would have been much greater. The survival must also be preordained.
None of the ulama talked about this. Instead, both religious authorities and 179
parents kept saying “itu takdir”—it is preordained by God—and no one
was at fault. And I remember another incident where a Haj pilgrim flying
to Mecca decided to cook his food aboard the airplane. As expected, a fire
broke out. The explanation was “takdir Tuhan” and the person who did the
cooking was not to be blamed.

When Malaya was under British colonial rule, the ulama had little influence.
After independence, however, we decided that religious people needed a
place in society. We gave them authority over religion, and this was when
they realised how powerful religion was. Once Parti Islam se-Malaysia
(PAS) discovered this power of religion, its leaders had no qualms about
using Islam for political ends. As I mentioned in the previous chapter, PAS
regularly declared that a Muslim became an apostate if he or she worked
or associated closely with a non-Muslim. Anyone who knows the Quran
would also know that this particular pronouncement is a misinterpretation,
and yet few have questioned PAS leaders out of respect for their apparent
religious credentials. If you are brave enough to question them, their modus
operandi is to retaliate with edicts in Arabic that will leave you stumped
and unable to respond. For a political party that upholds Allah in all His
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Benevolence, Mercy and Compassion, PAS likes to come down harshly on

anyone who questions or opposes them.

In 1981, Datuk Seri Abdul Hadi Awang of PAS declared that the United
Malays National Organisation (UMNO) was a party of kafir. I wrote
about this on my blog on 7 January 2013, and I think it is worth repeating:
“There was no such division among Malay-Muslims in Malaya until PAS
was formed. Immediately, PAS declared that those who did not join it
were infidels (kafir). But the most potent cause of the split among Malay
Sunnis is due to the pronouncement of Hadi Awang. His diatribe against
UMNO and condemnation of UMNO Malays as kafir has resulted in the
continued rejection by PAS members of UMNO imams during prayers.
They would hold separate prayers behind their own imams. PAS members
even build their own mosques, refuse to eat meat slaughtered by UMNO
supporters, reject the validity of marriages officiated by UMNO kadis, and
bury their dead in separate burial grounds. Members of the same family
who are UMNO followers are shunned by those who support PAS. In fact,
PAS members truly believe that the three million UMNO members, their
families and their supporters are not Muslims. They are all kafir—infidels
and apostates.” If before there was no religious divide among Malay-
180 Muslims, now there is. And the divide is deep, caused not by the teachings
of Islam but by politics.

Just before the 2018 General Election, I wrote on my blog that PAS was to
be blamed for dividing the Malays and that the party would be a spoiler in
the elections. PAS Deputy President Datuk Seri Tuan Ibrahim Tuan Man
felt he had to respond. According to him, the Pakatan Harapan and I, the
Chairman of Bersatu at the time, were panicking over what he claimed
was the growing support for PAS. Tuan Ibrahim also asserted that his
party’s struggle had never changed, and that PAS had always placed a high
priority on Islamic principles. It was a statement that conveniently ignored
the fact that in reality, PAS had not done anything positive for either the
country or the religion since it was founded. In reply, I challenged Tuan
Ibrahim to address one of the main points in my earlier article regarding
the way PAS was dividing the Malays. “Does Tuan Ibrahim believe that
those who do not join PAS are un-Islamic? Were Malays kafir before PAS
came into existence?” I asked. I also wanted Tuan Ibrahim to state whether
he accepted Hadi’s claim alleging that UMNO rule was un-Islamic and
that anyone who died opposing the UMNO administration would be
considered a martyr. If the administration formed by UMNO previously
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

was kafir, I wanted to know, were its officers, including the muftis and
people led and guided by them, also kafir?

It did not bother me whether my detractors called me a villain, a robber

or a dictator, nor did I expect my political enemies to call me nice names.
After all, if they did that, they would find it difficult to oppose me. But
what saddened me was when PAS labelled me and all other Malays who
didn’t support them as kafir. What about Muslims all over the world who
did not join PAS? Were they kafir as well? This kind of thing is forbidden
in Islam. The Quran specifically enjoins all Muslims to be brothers and
be united. I even asked a mufti once whether he believed that UMNO
members were kafir just because PAS said so. The mufti avoided answering
me because if he had said it was wrong, he would have been castigated
by PAS. But by supporting this view, even silently, these so-called Muslim
scholars are contravening the word of the Quran. There was also the
controversy in 2004, when the PAS spiritual leader at the time, the late
Datuk Nik Abdul Aziz Nik Mat, declared that voting for his party would
guarantee safe passage to heaven. This prompted me to ask whether he
had already gone to heaven to determine who up there had voted for PAS.
I also asked whether this would exempt his party members from having to
pray or follow God’s commands. If so, I said even “rogues and rapists who 181
vote for PAS” would enter heaven.

Today, as I write this book, all these pronouncements have still not been
reversed. However, for the sake of political expediency, PAS and UMNO
are the best of friends. They have joined hands to form the coalition called
Muafakat Nasional.

Blind leading the blind

Some ulama have such confidence in their understanding of Islam that they
say, “You are ignorant. We are learned; therefore, you must accept what
we tell you.” The assumption is that without their leadership, you will go
astray if you attempt an unguided study of the Quran. If you insist on
learning without a teacher and your interpretation is slightly different from
the “accepted” one, you could get into big trouble and even end up in jail
for religious deviation, which is a crime in Malaysia.

While the Quran urges Muslims to read and think, there are religious
teachers who tell Muslims to follow them out of blind faith. Over time,
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this has led to an overdependence on religious teachers, which placed in

them an authority that is neither warranted nor healthy. With different
teachers teaching different things, Muslims as a whole have become even
more divided and confused. In Malaysia, some Muslims simply turn to the
religious leader who happens to be the most prominent in their lives or who
shouts the loudest. If the person wears a turban and jubah, quotes Quranic
verses in Arabic and speaks about his perception of things or his wishes,
there will be Muslims who will follow him. The Al-Arqam movement of
the 1970s is a good example. A person called Ashaari Mohammad claimed
to have supernatural powers given by God, and hundreds flocked to him
despite the fact that he was preaching dangerous nonsense—he claimed
to have the ability to determine who went to heaven, and he had plans to
overthrow the Government by force of arms. In the 2000s another man
called Ayah Pin declared that he was the reincarnation of the Prophet
Muhammad (pbuh)—as well as Jesus Christ, the Buddha and Lord Shiva.
He and his “Sky Kingdom” sect had many devotees who apparently didn’t
think any of this was even a bit odd.

On the other side of the equation is the late Malaysian scholar who simply
refused to accept the dictates of the religious elite without question. Kassim
182 Ahmad started as an academic—he taught at the School of Oriental and
African Studies in London for some years—before becoming a socialist
politician, but in later years he devoted himself to the study of religion.
Kassim had a very straightforward view. He said that if a hadith—i.e.,
the sayings and deeds attributed to the Prophet—contradicted the Quran,
Muslims must choose the Quran. For Kassim, the Quran was the word
of God and nothing else stood in partnership with the sacred text. The
Hadith and Sunnah (i.e., the traditions of the Prophet) were compiled
many generations after the Prophet’s death. By the time Imam al-Bukhari
(810–870), a Persian scholar, decided to gather all the hadiths, there were
600,000 sayings attributed to the Prophet. When he and other scholars
finally completed their studies, that number was reduced to 7,000. By
using a rigorous methodology to determine the authenticity of a hadith,
these scholars were able to sieve out thousands of hadiths that had been
fabricated for political and other reasons. So, Kassim held that if a hadith
was deemed spurious, it had to be rejected outright. For this—for placing
the Quran above the Hadith—he was roundly condemned by the religious
authorities and pilloried for being anti-Hadith and, by extension, anti-
Islam. Despite the humiliating manner in which he was treated, he stood
firmly by his words right up until his death in 2017. He spent a lifetime
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

reading the Quran in languages he understood. We spoke often, and there

were Muslims who agreed with him but none were brave enough to stand
by him against the ulama.

Another tool of control used by the ulama is the Arabic language. The
Quran, the main guide for 1.8 billion Muslims around the globe, was
revealed in Arabic. With the spread of Islam, the Holy Book has been
translated fully and in parts into 114 languages. Most non-Arab Muslims—
and this includes Muslims in Malaysia—learn from young to recite the
Quran in Arabic, but this fact alone is no proof of understanding. For non-
Arabs, the only way to understand the Quran is to have tutors or teachers
well versed in translating classical Arabic and interpreting the messages
into their native languages. For those who do try to fathom the sacred
text on their own, there are translations in both Malay and English. This
is precisely what I used as a young adult. I had recited the Quran fully
as a child but I didn’t truly know my own religion until I was politically
attacked on religious grounds. This motivated me to learn and I found in
the Quran a wealth of knowledge about everything one needs to know in
life, including problem-solving and ways to develop a country.

However, after reading the Quran in Malay and English, I was told that 183
the translations were “not the Quran” because the “real” and “authentic”
Quran existed only in Arabic. If this is true, then a substantial portion
of Muslims outside the Middle East would surely be excluded from
understanding the “real Quran”, which is absurd. So, I said, “I agree with
you. The Quran is in Arabic, but when you teach me Islam, do you teach
me in Arabic or Malay? If you’re teaching me in Malay, then by your own
argument, you are not teaching me Islam.” The Islam I believe in is what
I learnt in my own Malay language or English, the language I acquired in
school. I must therefore assume that the Malay and English translations
are fair and accurate translations and interpretations of the Holy Book. For
verification, I compare interpretations from three different sources. If they
are similar, then I can reasonably assume that the translations are accurate.

I had a religious teacher once who taught me to memorise passages for

prayer, and he also gave me passages I could use for political purposes—
but this is the wrong use of the Quran! “Don’t sell my verses for small
returns”, verse 199 in Surah Al Imran, is a strong reminder that you
must not use the Quran for personal gain. Because of this, I reject the
translations and interpretations of Islam made by scholars influenced
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by other objectives—and certainly, interpretations by politicians must be

regarded with suspicion. I say this because politicians need to be popular.
If they have to, they will use religion to enhance their image—but their
failure to motivate Muslims through Islam to actively participate in this
world is a lost opportunity. Instead, politicians burnish their reputations as
good Muslims by setting up tahfiz schools (religious schools). Besides the
almost instantaneous improvement to their image, setting up such schools
is also a good investment as many Malay parents these days send at least
one child to be educated as a tahfiz.

Justice in Islam
As the majority of Malaysian Members of Parliament, Ministers and even
Prime Ministers today only have superficial knowledge about Islam, they
depend on the ulama for advice on all matters to do with religion. This
allows the ulama to continue spreading their own interpretations of the
religion. Likewise, as most Muslims in Malaysia practise the compulsory
rituals and leave the rest to the ulama, religious authorities have gained the
power to encroach on more areas, including those covered by common
law. Since the 1980s, the reach of Shariah law has expanded through
184
legislation as well as judicial decisions and now affects other areas
including constitutional law, commercial law, banking, insurance and even
the management of provident funds.

While this continues unabated, the ulama also impose their authority on
small things. For example, this happened in the school my daughter was
attending: at night, she used to do her homework after prayers. Suddenly
the religious teacher decided that after prayers, students had to read the
Quran, which meant that homework given by other teachers could not be
completed. But no one dared to question the teacher or to point out that
reading and acquiring knowledge in subjects other than the Quran was also
encouraged by God. In the end, the religious people get their way simply
because others are too afraid to challenge them. Even the headmistress
dared not question the decisions of the religious teacher.

Another of my concerns is the ease with which fatwa (Islamic legal

opinions) are issued by the ulama. In common law, to make a new law you
have to write it, describe the offence, prescribe the punishment, and then
go through a legislative body and debate it, amend it, rework it, redraft
it, and do it all over again until people are satisfied that it is the best that
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

can be. I have not seen or found this same process and procedure in any
Muslim country so far. For example, in Saudi Arabia, for certain crimes
the law says they can decapitate you in public for all to see. This is terrible
and inhumane, but what is the actual law allowing for this? Was there a
trial? Were there lawyers? Was there any defence for the accused? All this
remains unknown. Yet the Quran emphasises many times that when you
judge, judge with justice.

To achieve justice in accordance with Islamic teachings, a court must be

set up to hear the accused defend himself or herself, not just the authority
enunciating charges against the accused. In so many cases in the Muslim
world, we learn that judgment is made only on the basis of the story told
by the prosecutor. This is unjust—and if it is unjust, it is not Islam. Going
to the root of it, I’ve observed that most Muslim countries are generally
not well governed. We know that the Prophet introduced a constitution
for Medina after he migrated there, but many Muslim countries do not
have a proper written constitution. They claim that the Quran provides
guidance for everything, and this includes Shariah law, but invariably their
interpretation of such laws and the administration of justice is dependent
on the ulama who may not be experienced in administrative governance as
well as the problems people face in the 21st century. 185

For example, there are still places in the Middle East where foreigners are
routinely arrested in any traffic accident, even if the foreigner is not at fault.
If a local were to drive a car and crash into another driven by a foreigner,
it is the foreigner who will be blamed. I personally was told by a Chinese
Malaysian that in an accident—a local had struck a car from behind—the
judge found the foreigner at fault, saying, “If you weren’t there in the first
place, the accident wouldn’t have happened.” This is nonsensical. The law
in these countries is not codified and specific, so the judge may base his
decision on his own understanding of religion and his own concept of
justice. This, I suspect, is what happens when you don’t depend on laws
created through legislation and instead you refer to writings of various
people in the hadiths and their interpretation of those writings. As such,
you can have “Shariah law” as the law of the land, but what happens when
it is interpreted in different ways by different people?

Whichever system or faith you adhere to, justice is justice. There is no

justice that is particular to Muslims, even though they believe they are
different from others. If a judge says “I am judging this as a Muslim”,
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he is implying that Muslims have a different, perhaps superior, concept

of justice. They think that what is just in Islam is not the same as what is
just in other religions. But if you oppress people, that is injustice. If you
are fair to people, that is just—in any language, any country, any time.
This applies in Malaysia as well as anywhere else in the world. Malaysian
Shariah law is codified and applies to all Muslims—but primarily in the
area of family law. In all other areas like crime, contract and tort, Muslims,
like all Malaysians, are governed by common law—and this fact causes
much grief and dissatisfaction among many Muslims.

There are many valid reasons why we cannot divide the legal system to
apply Shariah law to all Muslims exclusively and common law to all non-
Muslims exclusively: if two people steal, for example, and one is a Muslim
and the other a non-Muslim, the punishment for the Muslim would be to
cut off his hand, whereas the non-Muslim might get two months’ jail. Is
it just and fair that the Muslim should spend the rest of his life without a
hand while the non-Muslim, after serving his sentence, has every chance to
carry on with life without the disability of being without a hand? I believe
the common law in this instance acts in favour of justice. I support the
common law and my conscience is clear as we are doing what is fair and
186 just—and this is what the Quran insists upon all the time. After all, there
are 43 verses in the Quran which say: When you judge, judge with justice.
Clearly, the emphasis is not on procedure or punishment but on justice. If
this can be achieved through common law, then the justice achieved is in
accordance with the teachings of Islam.

That said, in Malaysia, there are now two different systems of law and two
court systems, and one of the chief challenges is when the administration
of Shariah law overlaps common law jurisdictions. In recent years, for
example, there have been acrimonious court battles over child custody and
the religion of children, which have caused much anger and frustration and
divided Malaysian society even more. In three cases, all involving Hindu
married couples with children, the husband converted to Islam and took
the children away from their mothers. In two cases the husbands converted
the children to Islam as well. In these cases, although Malaysian Shariah
law states that the Shariah Court has jurisdiction only over Muslims,
the religious authorities and the Shariah Court have now subjected non-
Muslim spouses to their jurisdiction as well. There have also been reports
of the police being reluctant to act on the complaints made by the non-
Muslim spouses.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

There have been other issues involving the arrest of a bookshop manager
and the seizure of books banned by the Federal Territories Department
of Islamic Affairs, which has jurisdiction over Muslim matters in Kuala
Lumpur. Transgendered persons have also been arrested for cross-dressing
and, in an extremely divisive case, non-Muslims have been banned
from using the word “Allah” even though this is the word they use for
“God” in the Malay language. Islamic authorities have gone so far as to
confiscate Malay-language Bibles containing the word “Allah”, and where
the common law courts have tried to uphold the constitutional rights of
citizens, the religious authorities have shot back. The Federal Department
of Islamic Development has even publicly criticised the Court of Appeal
for interfering in the administration of lslamic law by the Shariah Court.

The truth is that we are still unable to solve the complex problems arising
from overlapping jurisdictions when common law says one thing and
Shariah law says another. Most of these jurisdictional controversies remain
unsettled but it does appear that some of the actions taken by the religious
authorities have exceeded their powers under the law. However, we have not
been able to settle this because of public feeling—not so much because of
religious tenets per se. The Muslim public doesn’t want to see the children
of a Muslim convert remain non-Muslim. If this is allowed, there will be 187
huge religious demonstrations and the Government will be placed in a very
difficult position. Some Muslims believe these jurisdictional conflicts and
other related problems can be resolved if Islamic law becomes the supreme
law of the land. Not only that, they say Shariah should be applied to all
Malaysians as Malaysia is, after all, a Muslim-majority country.

Constitutionally, this is impossible. While Article 3(1) declares Islam to

be the religion of the Federation, there are protections for believers of all
other faiths. Article 3(1) also states that all other religions may be practised
in peace and harmony. In addition, non-Muslims cannot be subjected to
Islamic law because their freedom of religion is guaranteed by Article 11.
Indeed, even within the Quran, it is written in Surah Al-Baqarah, verse
256, that “There is no compulsion in religion. The right path has been
distinguished from error,” which means that under no condition should an
individual be forced to accept a religion or belief against his or her will. The
meaning of this verse is not limited merely to the freedom of individuals to
choose their own religion. Islam also provides non-Muslims considerable
economic, cultural, and administrative rights. Therefore, forcing Shariah
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law on believers of other faiths—which is likely to cause protest, resistance

and instability—is an action abhorrent in the Quran.

In interactions between Muslims and non-Muslims, I believe Islam

is flexible. In intermarriages, for instance, I strongly believe that both
sides can learn to accept what is possible instead of focusing on what is
impossible. I know that Malaysian Muslims are rigid about what they
believe to be the right teachings of the religion but, elsewhere, Muslims are
a great deal more relaxed. In Senegal, a Muslim country with a minority
of Christians, the president is Muslim and his wife a Catholic, and they
have three children. I don’t know how they manage it, but I believe that
with the wife’s agreement, the children are Muslim. You will never see this
kind of thing in Peninsular Malaysia because the religion has become so
politicised that any understanding—or even just tolerance—is prohibited.
However, in Sabah, for example, there are families whose members belong
to different faiths. Cultivating understanding without disregarding norms
of life of all people is what we must do in order to live harmoniously with
one another.

If Muslims were to simply abide by what is taught by the Quran, they

188 would be the best people in the world. Sadly, they do not. At times they
are very cruel, even to fellow Muslims, and even when this behaviour flatly
contradicts the verses of the Quran that deplore cruelty towards others. In
this, I am reminded of the time when PAS, in its apparent desire to turn
Malaysia into an Islamic state, wanted to introduce hudud law (i.e., Islamic
criminal law) when I was Prime Minister the first time around. It was also
the time when I discovered that the most important principle in Islam was
justice and not punishment. In their rush to impose hudud law, PAS did
not bother to study the process of judgment. To judge a case of theft, for
example, you must have four witnesses because the punishment (cutting
off a hand) is very severe. There was no mention of this in PAS’ hudud,
nor was there any consideration of all the factors that must be weighed to
ensure that a sentence in Islamic criminal law is fair and just. Frankly, I do
not consider PAS’ idea of hudud to be Islamic at all.

What the Quran does promote is forgiveness, compassion and reconciliation.

If your relative is murdered, you can retaliate by seeking the death of the
murderer. But you may also exercise compassion by not demanding the
death penalty. However, Muslims in general show what faithful believers
they are by insisting on the severest punishment possible—the idea of
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

a forgiving religion would be too strange a concept for most of them—

and there are other examples where process and procedure have become
more important than upholding justice. When a woman is raped and she
recognises the rapist, she may not be able to make a report if she cannot
produce four witnesses of good character to back her claims. If she does
report the crime without these witnesses, she could be punished for a
wrongful allegation. If the man who raped her does not confess to doing
so, he could be let off scot-free—and, if she gives birth to a child, she can be
accused of committing zina (adultery). Now, the punishment for adultery
is death by stoning, which is prescribed in two hadiths of the Prophet but
not anywhere in the Quran. Is this fair and just?

There is also the issue of child marriage, which has become a political
dilemma because it is not stated anywhere in the Quran or the Hadith
what the right and appropriate age of marriage should be. Because of this,
the ulama refer to the Prophet’s marriage to Aisha, who was underaged at
the time. This has become the basis for allowing girls below 18 to marry.
Although the story goes that the Prophet did not consummate his marriage
until much later, this remains unclear. When you argue that girls below 18
should not marry, the ulama say, “Well, the religion allows us. Who are
you to stop us?” The important thing is education: we need to educate 189
people to understand that the religion advocates that men marry only one
wife and that she must be old enough. The common law insists on the
minimum age of 18 (with parental consent). Under Shariah law, Muslim
girls may marry at 16, although younger ages are possible with the consent
of the Shariah Court. The fact that we have not ended child marriage in
Malaysia points to a failure of leadership to tackle the problems through
education and understanding, and I hope the leaders of the future will have
the courage to pursue this.

The Quran for all times

In my study of the Quran, I have found that the injunctions contained
within it are directly applicable in our own times. Take circumstantial
evidence as an example: the ulama insist that four witnesses of good
character are needed to convict a person. It is not possible to always find
four witnesses but the Quran offers us a good example in support of the
use of circumstantial evidence in the story of Yusuf and Zulaikha, which
the ulama are so fond of quoting. In the story, Yusuf’s shirt was found to
have been torn at the back, which indicates that Zulaikha was chasing after
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him. The torn shirt, therefore, offers circumstantial evidence. However, the
ulama still insist on four witnesses—but if a woman is raped, where and
how is she to find four witnesses to the rape who are of good character?
And why were four witnesses of good character standing by watching her
being raped and not stopping the crime in the first place?

Today, blood or semen samples can offer conclusive proof when taken with
other evidence. We run DNA tests and assemble other evidence. To me,
the sole insistence on four witnesses is not Islam. It is an interpretation
that makes the religion appear unjust, unfair and inflexible. Unfortunately,
however, no religious teacher agrees with me. They prefer to continue doing
what they have always done, which is to follow their teachers and imams.
This is why we have many different sects: Sunni, Shia and Wahhabi, and
some insist on cruel punishments. How can we change any of this? Is
it possible for the masses to see that Islam is forgiving, flexible and not
against worldly success? How do we make Muslims realise that they are,
and have always been, responsible for their own fate?

As I mentioned earlier, countering the ulama requires you to study the

religion. When you rebut an Islamic argument by saying, “Well, this
190 is not practical,” it will not win you support. Your argument cannot be
based on the fact that we now live in vastly different conditions from that
of 7th-century Arabia. This won’t work as they will demand a religious
explanation, which can be intimidating. Instead, you need to present
evidence that Islam supports your findings.

The ulama like to say that whatever they do, they do in the name of the
religion and that you cannot question them. Even when they behead a
Muslim they say “Allahu Akbar” (“God is great”). They say “In the Name
of Allah, the Most Merciful and the Most Compassionate” even when they
do something that is neither merciful nor compassionate and is actually not
prescribed by Islam. This is why we need to study the Holy Book to show
them what is unfair, unjust and therefore, against Islam. If we don’t correct
this, we will truly be unworthy of this great religion that God has given us.

The dire position of Islam and the Muslims today is not due to the religion
of Islam. It is entirely due to the wrong interpretation of the teachings of
the Quran or the deliberate disregard for these teachings by people with
vested interests. If we go back to the Islam of the Quran, we will be able
to create a great society or nation that reflects the true teachings of Islam.
 Chapter 9
Education and Ethics

In the last chapter, I wrote that for Muslims, it is important to educate

oneself on the religion and not merely rely on the pronouncements of
others who dictate what you understand about the religion. The same, in
fact, applies to education and our value system in general. Malaysians, for
the most part, know that education holds the key to personal and national
progress and development. Education brings better prospects and incomes,
giving individuals and families the chance to break out of poverty. It
prepares students to face the challenges of life when they grow up. For the
community, education facilitates progress. The technological advances we
enjoy today are all the results of education. The ignorant overcome their
handicaps through education. For this reason, the Federal Government has
at times spent as much as 25 per cent of the annual Budget on education.
Primary education is free and available to all, while secondary and tertiary
education are also available to everyone, though not always completely free
of charge.

Having said that, I think all Malaysians agree that the most important 191
thing is to have good teachers. It does not matter what kind of wonderful
infrastructure we provide. We need good teachers at the centre of the
education system who work not by spoon-feeding knowledge and
information but by helping the young to discover new knowledge for
themselves. This takes people who are well qualified and, much more
importantly, must have the calling and passion to teach. The bald truth
is that not enough teachers have this calling, and it is a problem that goes
back decades. When I first became Minister of Education in 1974, I asked
to meet the principals of the teacher-training colleges. I talked about these
same issues—the purpose of education, our shared values—but at the end
all they said was: “We have problems in the education system because we
are not paid properly.” At that moment, I knew I had failed. I had failed
because they didn’t even address a word of what I said. They thought
only about their own incomes and that the Government should pay them
more. Decades have passed since I made that speech. Teachers and other
employees of the Government are now paid about three times more than
what they were paid in those days but still many feel that they are not
compensated well enough.
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Some 40 years after the incident with the principals, I wanted to be

Minister of Education again because I knew that the national education
policy had gone very wrong. But I could not serve as Education Minister
because the Pakatan Harapan had pledged in its manifesto that the Prime
Minister should not hold any other portfolio, and we had no choice but to
honour our promises. But the problems of the national school system have
continued to bother me ever since. For example, previous administrations
had practically converted national schools into religious schools—as many
as four teaching periods a day had been given to the study of religion
in some form or another at the expense of other subjects. We need to
teach religion, yes, but do we want every student to join the ranks of the
ulama? No. Muslims need to know enough to be good Muslims—that
is understandable, but it cannot be that they must all become religious
scholars. The sciences, for example, have become critically important to
daily life today, so much so that all progressive countries around the world
are grappling with how to teach science, technology, engineering and
mathematics (i.e., the STEM subjects) in a more comprehensive, effective
and holistic way. Educational reform was one of my major personal goals
for the Pakatan Harapan Government, but progress was like wading
through treacle because it was simply so difficult to move.
192
It is not just about STEM or about the preponderance of religion. The
problem with our national school system is that we have failed to
understand the importance of education in and of itself. At its most
rudimentary level, education is about gaining core competence in reading,
writing and arithmetic, but it should also provide every young Malaysian
with the necessary skills to progress as far as their interests and aptitude
take them. At a higher level, therefore, education is about preparing a
person to make the most of his or her potential as well as be a good citizen
who can contribute to society and the world. That is what education is
about: your future and the future of your community. At its highest level,
education encompasses value systems and culture as much as the thirst to
know more, to be curious about the world, and to help solve some of the
problems faced by humanity through new ideas and the creation of new
and better things. Is this what is being taught in our national schools? I
would be very surprised if anyone said “yes”.

I will always believe that the pursuit of knowledge is good. However,

knowledge without a strong ethical grounding can be very dangerous.
There is an ancient saying: “Knowledge is power.” Teaching someone can
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

be like handing that person a knife. Will he or she use it to carve something
beautiful? Or to kill? If you gain tremendous knowledge but use it to steal,
then education has failed. Likewise, if you bend your command of nuclear
physics to the single purpose of killing ever more people, you are using your
knowledge wrongly. So, what is important in education is to teach the ability
not just to distinguish between right from wrong, but also to understand the
reasons why choosing the right path is always the better way.

This kind of ethical grounding and character building is normally taught

by parents to a child at a very young age. It can be unconscious—the child
mimics the values and actions of the parents, including reactions to events
and justifications for doing or not doing something. These values can also
be taught in school, starting from kindergarten, and by society at large. To
a large extent, you teach by the example you set. For example, if you want
children to be punctual, you must be punctual yourself. Such examples are
very important for young people, and it establishes the basis for explaining
why certain values are good, and certain values are bad. You must explain
this and not simply expect children—or anyone—to obey blindly. From
here, we teach concepts like the common good, civics, social responsibility,
and the law. We must teach why these things are important, as they do
in Japan, where you can safely walk alone in the streets without fear of 193
being robbed or molested. Compare this with some other countries—such
as Malaysia—where the common value system is weaker. Here we have the
problem of snatch thieves and other petty street crimes, but we also have
more serious crimes taking place, as well as corruption. A strong value
system that can build good character must be regarded as an essential part
of education. But our education system does not provide this.

How our education became divided

In the normal course of a nation’s existence and development, its citizens are
part of a single national culture. There might be slight regional differences
in terms of dialects, traditions and cultural practices, but by and large the
culture of a country is recognisably the same. In Malaysia, however, the
situation is quite different. In the Peninsula alone, there are three major
ethnic communities—Malays, Chinese and Indians—while in Sabah and
Sarawak there are the many native communities of Borneo including the
Kadazan-Dusun, the Bajau and Murut in Sabah, and the Iban, Bidayuh
and Melanau in Sarawak.
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Of these, the Malays and the native communities, including the many Orang
Asli communities of the Peninsula, are indigenous, while the Chinese and
Indian communities settled in the lands in relatively recent times and retain
very strong individual ethnic identities, religions and languages. This is
one of the reasons why the concerns of Malays, Chinese and Indians—
and their differences—seem to dominate national discourse so much. The
Chinese and Indians both come from civilisations established thousands
of years ago, with strong cultural heritage and consciousness of traditions.
It is unavoidable that there will be different, and sometimes competing,
cultural priorities for these communities in Malaysia. That is why it is
imperative that we find a common cultural identity as Malaysians. And if
that identity is going to be unique to this country, it must be based largely
on the identity of the indigenous people, otherwise it will be confused with
other countries.

The most obvious differences are in the value systems of the major
communities. The Malays, for example, were originally peasants and
fishermen who faced comparatively few hardships in life. As such,
traditional Malay life was very laid-back. This is not to imply that the
“natives” are “lazy” in any way, but rather that each community is a product
194 of its experiences. For the Malays, their traditional life is illustrated in the
Malay phrase “kais pagi makan pagi, kais petang makan petang”—literally,
“rake (scratch) in the morning, eat in the morning; rake (scratch) in the
evening, eat in the evening.” That is, to live from hand to mouth. This is
the very definition of subsistence farming and fishing, with no surplus for
trade or savings. The idea of setting something aside for a rainy day was
not part of the traditional Malay value system precisely because there was
no need to save—there have been no serious famines or natural disasters
in Malaya.

Thus, there was little necessity to accumulate wealth and also little need
to work hard for the future. Many Malays viewed the world fatalistically:
things would work out somehow, and all was God’s will (although the
Quran actually states that God will help you only if you help yourself first).
Now, into this environment came the Chinese and Indians, first as traders
and labourers, but later as economic migrants fleeing lives of extreme
hardship. These were people who had faced all manner of challenges for
centuries, and any failure to adapt and overcome those hardships meant
suffering and death. Only the fittest survived. For the first generation of
Chinese and Indians in Malaya, the future was dark and uncertain. Facing
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

that uncertainty meant constant preparation. Food had to be preserved for

the future. Success in doing this meant survival; failure could mean death.
Work always had to be done today in preparation for the ill fortune of
tomorrow. The first generation of Chinese and Indians were resourceful.
If they had no skills, they acquired skills through practice. They were the
survivors and they worked very hard. They were certainly not willing to
leave their lives to fate.

Against this value system, the indigenous Malays simply could not
compete. Some may have tried, and some did succeed, but the vast majority
retreated, leaving all preparations for a better life to the newcomers. The
Chinese, particularly, invested their wealth back into the community—in
education via Chinese schools, in healthcare via traditional medicine, in
religious life through the foundation of temples and temple-societies, and
in social welfare through the clan system. This allowed the community
as a whole to progress as the years passed, and by the time we reached
the Second World War, the economic disparity between the Chinese and
the Malays had become quite stark. This imbalance bred a very unhealthy
division. The Malays started to fear that they would eventually be made
beggars in their own land whereas the Chinese could return to China,
and the Indians could return to India. In the worldwide depression of the 195
1930s, this was in fact what many did. But where were the Malays to go?
This was the traditional homeland of the Malays, and the rallying cry was
“Tak akan Melayu hilang di dunia!” (“The Malays shall never vanish from
this earth!”), attributed to the legendary warrior Hang Tuah. This is still
the sentiment among some today, and it is why non-Malays, particularly
Chinese Malaysians, are seen by Malays to be wealthy even though the
reality is that today, there are many Chinese who aren’t rich at all.

Now, we had the opportunity to correct this imbalance upon independence,

via the provision of the special position of Malays in respect to access to
education. The country’s founders understood that education was the key
to social and economic mobility, and so the framers of the Constitution
sought to address the fears of the Malays by according them a certain
constitutional “special position” that entailed a set of privileges—quotas
for education as well as employment in the civil and administrative service.
There was also the provision of “Malay reserve land” to ensure they would
have places to live. These were like the reservations for Native Americans
in the US, and while it might appear to be a privilege, the reality is that such
provisions are a measure of economic weakness.
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At the same time, the Constitution guaranteed the rights of the other
communities as well: freedom of religion, for example, as well as the right
to have vernacular schools (i.e., the Chinese and Tamil schools). It must
be admitted that these schools existed before independence, but then there
was no common nationality or citizenship. Their continued right to exist
in independent Malaya and Malaysia is entrenched in Article 152(1)(a)
of the Constitution, which provides that “no person shall be prohibited
or prevented from using (otherwise than for official purposes), or from
teaching or learning, any other language.” The result is to separate the races
physically while still young, and this is the cause of our educational divide.

In all our neighbouring countries, only national schools have been permitted,
and it is precisely the multiple schooling streams in Malaysia that have
obstructed the path towards the creation of a truly national identity and
value system. The national schools were originally government-funded
primary and secondary schools that were accessible to all Malaysian
children during the British period—but today they are divided into
National Schools and National-type Primary and Secondary Schools that
teach in Chinese, as well as National-type Tamil Primary Schools. There
are also the independent Chinese schools that are outside the government
196 system (these schools are protected by the Constitution) as well as Muslim
religious schools. There are also MARA Junior Science Colleges and the
private international schools that teach a variety of secondary curricula,
mostly in English, accredited in the UK, the US, Australia and elsewhere.

In my time, the Government provided only one secondary school: the

Government English School. These were complemented by the Christian
mission schools. There were of course Malay Primary Schools, and the
Malay students from these schools went on to English Secondary Schools
(as well as the mission schools, after the Malays eventually overcame their
fear of being converted to Christianity). For this they had to do two years
in special classes to familiarise themselves with English. In the English
schools the students were from all races. We shared a common educational
background—we were Malay, Chinese, Indian and so forth, but we shared
a common experience although we were not all Malayan nationals. This
is why I think it’s best that Malaysia has a single educational system. In
Malaysia, Malay should be the teaching medium, but English would be a
very important part in the curriculum. There must also be proper classes for
the teaching of all the vernacular languages such as Mandarin and Tamil,
so that these languages are not lost as they have been in many multiracial
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

countries. This is what I believe is best for Malaysia, but there are some
people who will be very upset with this view. Politicians will certainly lose
support from the Chinese and Indian communities, as well as a substantial
number of Malays. There will be contention no matter how we try to
approach this issue, but if we are brave enough to weather the storm, we
will see clearly why it is so important to have a single school system. If I
had the power to make this happen, I would. But I will not be very popular.

So much depends on how we perceive education. Is education an expression

of our communal identity or is it about acquiring knowledge that will
contribute towards our well-being and development? There are those like
the United Chinese School Committees’ Association of Malaysia—better
known by its Chinese name, Dong Zong—who insist that Chinese education
is central to the Chinese identity. They tend to take the hard-line position
that “these are Chinese schools and we want what’s Chinese at any cost”.
The cost is the non-achievement of national unity. This will perpetuate
racism in Malaysia because the attitude is that we are Malaysians, but we
are not quite Malaysian. We still want to identify ourselves with another
country, and this distinguishes us and separates us. Dong Zong, just as
much as the Malay education groups, want to sustain our differences even
if it divides us. There are many people—of every colour and creed—who 197
disagree with the positions taken by these pressure groups but they are
silent. I understand this. If you are Chinese and you criticise Dong Zong,
you will be accused of “betraying your race” just as Malays will accuse
other Malays of the same thing if they question, say, the emphasis on the
teaching of Islam in schools. It is toxic, and if you choose to enter politics
to effect real change for the betterment of this country and all its peoples,
then you must be prepared to be disliked.

The independent Chinese schools were established in the British era—when

the Chinese were not yet citizens or subjects of the Malay Rulers. Their
numbers swelled in the aftermath of 13 May 1969 when the Education
Minister, Tun Abdul Rahman Ya’kub, declared that all Government
English Schools would be converted into Malay-medium national schools,
which resulted in many Chinese students flocking to the Chinese schools
instead. Things are different now, and we have had more than half a century
of independent nationhood. Today, there are some Malays who say that
the way to move forward is to convert all Chinese and Tamil schools to
Malay-medium schools. I do not think that is possible without destabilising
the country. Besides it would be a violation of the principle enshrined in
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the Constitution. Instead, I believe the system that is best for the nation is
one where we can learn Chinese, Tamil or any language that we choose,
but where Malay is the national language and is the main educational
medium. This is the case in countries such as the US, the UK, Australia
and the European Union countries. People migrate there from all over the
world, but they accept the indigenous language of the country especially in
education. They don’t dispute that. In Malaysia, from the very beginning, we
said, “The national language is Malay, but we have the right to retain other
languages.” This is right and fair but we will remain divided forever. This
is why, 60 years later, some people are capable of believing the canard that
“the Democratic Action Party wants to destroy the Malays”. It is because
we have been divided from young—from the days when, in school, we have
associated only with those who are like ourselves ethnically, culturally and
linguistically, and often in terms of religion.

To move forward, we must learn to accept that we should have a single

identity—not Malay, Chinese, Indian and so forth, but Malaysian. Look
at America: who is an American? It’s someone who speaks American
English, embraces American culture and loves his country even to the point
of regarding his country of origin as an enemy and going to war against
198 it if needed. It doesn’t matter if your name is Roosevelt, Eisenhower,
Schwarzkopf or Obama. Your name might reflect Dutch, German or
Kenyan heritage, but it does not matter because you are American. Can we
be Malaysian in the same way, with the “Malaysian culture” being defined
by what unites us rather than what divides us? To be sure, it must be based
on the culture of the peoples of this land—the Malays, the natives—but
that culture must also have elements of the cultures of the other races.
In Malaysia, however, Malays, Chinese and Indians all want to retain
their separate identities and languages—and besides this, we also have the
problem of class division. A number of parents with money feel that the
national school system—or rather, Malaysian schools in general—will not
provide a good enough education for their children, so they opt to send
their children to one of the expensive international schools. Many also
send their children abroad from a very young age, so much so that when
the children return as adults (if they do at all), they have quite a lot of
difficulty mixing. They may have a lot more exposure and are the products
of a meritocratic single ethnic system—but it is a shame that when they
return to Malaysia they have problems fitting in. The solution must be to
raise the quality of our national schools—and by extension, the tertiary
educational system as well—to an internationally competitive level.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

How can we do this, given the state of the education system today?

Jumpstarting national education

The first issue is English. Malays are very sensitive about this—any
suggestion about mastering English is interpreted to be at the expense
of mastering Malay. There is a tussle between those who see schools as
national institutes to promote the national identity, and those who place
more importance on the acquisition of knowledge needed for national
development. The tussle has led to bitter acrimony, and even in the Federal
Government opinions differ. I do not understand why people view this as
a zero-sum game, unless they think Malaysians do not have the mental
capacity to be bilingual. Perhaps it is tied to national pride, and if so, I
have said many times that the national language is Malay and will remain
Malay. To be truthful, it is not just Malays who lack English proficiency. I
have met young Chinese Malaysians who are fluent in Mandarin and their
other Chinese dialects, but their spoken and written English is atrocious—
again, this is the result of spending too much time in a closed, monolingual
system and mixing with no one but those who are already like you. Whether
we are Malay, Chinese, Indian, Kadazan, Bajau, Melanau or any of the
199
many communities in Malaysia, we have nothing but benefits to gain from
learning a language besides our own. In my view, English must be first on
that list. It is the international language of the modern world today.

I alluded earlier to the fact that advocating a single educational system

would entail heavy political costs. Well, calling for more English to be
taught in schools would almost be political suicide. Still, I have been
committed to the policy of teaching mathematics and science in English in
schools. This is purely a pragmatic policy for a very specific purpose—it is
not to improve English comprehension indirectly, nor is it a compromise
to allay the fears of those who believe education is a zero-sum game,
where progress in English can take place only at the expense of Malay.
Knowledge in science—and by this, I include the social sciences—is
dynamic. There is no fixed quantity or stasis, no unchanging canon of
thought. Research takes place 24 hours a day, seven days a week, with
people collaborating closely despite living and working on opposite ends
of the world. The language they use is English. The language of the most
respected international journals in every discipline, from economics to
medicine, linguistics to chemical engineering, is English. Yes, it is possible
to translate these works into Malay, but it is impossible to translate even
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the most important of these works into Malay in a timely fashion because
you need an army of people who are fluent in both Malay and English and
who are also experts in the subjects concerned. Even if we had this army
of translator-experts, it is an irresponsible waste of talent to have them
engaged in translating the huge number of books and papers when their
knowledge can be applied more productively. We would need very many of
them, considering the number of books and papers produced every day. It
is far easier for everyone to learn English and have access to whatever new
knowledge is spun out in books and papers, almost all in English.

The best way to learn English is to read books, storybooks, fiction. English
is not spoken by stringing words together. The English themselves often
use idiomatic expressions they are familiar with, rather than the literal
description of the thing itself. Thus, they do not always say “it is raining
heavily.” Often, they would say “it’s raining cats and dogs.” The passage of
time is indicated by the phrase “much water has flowed under the bridge.”
These phrases and their meanings can only be learnt through reading
books. Learning just the words of the phrases will not help in terms of the
proper contexts to use them, especially when speaking. Of course, there
are certain subjects in the humanities that must remain exclusively Malay.
200 The arts and the literature of the Nusantara region, for example, or the
culture and history of the Malay Archipelago—all this cannot be studied
in isolation from a good knowledge of the Malay language, but not so
the sciences or any discipline that lies outside the history, geography and
experiences of this country.

There are those who argue that there are several non-English-speaking
countries in Asia, such as Korea, Japan, and China, that have made a
great deal of technological and scientific progress without making English
the medium of instruction. It is true, they do not rely on English in their
schools, but each of these countries developed a rigorous education system
of its own a long time ago when formal education was elementary and did
not involve complex sciences and mathematics. Translating English texts
was simple. Still, many Asians sent their children to Western countries
where they became familiar with Western languages. That was at the
start—today, in all these countries, the top students and professors are
fluent in English not just because they need to read papers and attend
conferences in English, but also because they can reach a much wider
international audience through English. I have met scientists, researchers,
academics and students from Japan and, invariably, we communicate in
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

English. Indeed, I have not yet met a single Nobel Laureate who was
unable to speak English. English as an international language is a fact of
life. You can’t have a Korean physicist giving talks only in Korean to an
international audience, and using words that are not derived from English.
There can be simultaneous translations but they would not be as good as
the language of the speaker.

The second major area to attend to is how we teach—namely, the delivery

of knowledge. One of the criticisms of any plan to overhaul the Malaysian
education system is: where will we find the teachers who can initiate change
on such a massive scale? Some have proposed hiring retired teachers—
particularly those who worked in the national education system before it
became so riddled with problems. Others have recommended recruiting
teachers from elsewhere in the Commonwealth, such as India; and yet
others have advocated comprehensive “train-the-trainers” approaches.
Personally, I do not think it is realistic to depend on individuals to improve
their capabilities. Teachers have different abilities. There are thousands of
teachers around the country, and if we are honest, we must admit that
while some are good, there are those who are bad—including some who
took up teaching as a last resort. The performance of the students depends
much on the quality of the teacher, and the future of these students would 201
be blighted if they had the misfortune of getting bad teachers.

There is too much uncertainty about whether you can deliver good-quality
lessons uniformly throughout the country where, in some places, teachers
themselves struggle with basic comprehension. Today it is possible
to record the lessons given by the best teachers and replay them in the
classes. The class teacher can guide the students as the recorded lesson is
played. It is possible even for the students to listen again and again until
they understand. Even questions may be asked and answers given. In the
process the class teachers, too, would learn. This is how languages are
taught nowadays. You hear the sentence and you repeat it. You answer
questions and if your answer is right, you will get the score. You can hear
the words or the sentence as many times as you want. Pictures, including
videos, show clearly the sequence while you hear the spoken words and
read as well.

Any lesson can be taught in the same way, and students can learn from
the best programmes, prepared by the best teachers—and yet we are still
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teaching in classrooms in the old way. We are still dependent on individual

teachers. If they are good, the students do well. If they are not, the students
suffer. As I have always said, when you listen you learn, and when you
speak and simply spout out what you already know, you learn nothing new.
The details matter. It’s the lack of attention to detail that has resulted in the
problems we face today. This is why, as the Minister of Education in 1974,
I looked into the nitty-gritty. I believe in micro-management. During the
short period I was the Acting Education Minister in January 2020, I looked
into the curriculum. I wanted to know the contents of the books we were
using because I was not happy with the quality of our teaching materials.
They were not giving us a wide enough perspective. We are living in a
world that is getting smaller. If before we only needed to know about the
kampung we lived in, now the whole world is the kampung. We need to
know about the world.

I especially wanted to change the curriculum with respect to the teaching of

religion in school. I felt that it was very important for teachers to promote
the right values of Islam in their lessons, instead of focusing so much on
the Afterlife. Religious teachers emphasise the performance of certain
rituals to “guarantee your place in heaven”, but what about your life in
202 this world? The Quran says explicitly: “Do not forget your portion in this
world.” Islam teaches that you must look after yourselves while you are
alive, and live as good Muslims—and as good Muslims, you will succeed—
but this is not taught. We are simply not taught in school the importance
of working hard, of honesty, of being trustworthy, of justice, and so forth.
It is a shame. In Malaysia, we have a chance to learn the values of each
community—Malay, Chinese, Indian and others—but what do we do? We
separate ourselves—this is Chinese, that is Indian, this is Malay. When we
do this, we limit ourselves to our own way of thinking only. And yet every
community in this world has values that warrant our attention—if we could
look at one another and see what is best in one another, and then strive to
emulate those qualities ourselves, we would have a nation of people who
are considerate, who would always do the right thing, keep their promises,
work very hard at what they are passionate about, and constantly learn
about the world.

Unfortunately, we have a national school system that is defined by some

teachers as “Malay schools”, and we have religious teachers who say “we
are an Islamic school.” If you disagree, you will be hammered for “not
being Muslim enough”. This is what has destroyed our national education
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

system. In fact, we now consider that to be “national” is to be 100 per

cent Malay. Our national identity is Malay-based but it has other elements
derived from the multiracial composition of the people. While Malays
by definition are Muslim, there are other indigenous people who are not
Muslim. The national schools must reflect the mix of races who have made
Malaysia their home. As such, we must resist the tendency to turn national
schools into Islamic religious schools. For those who wish to study Islam,
there are religious schools. The International Islamic University teaches
the religion of Islam alongside other worldly knowledge. There are non-
Muslim students studying the Shariah or Islamic law because they see a
need for it. They accept that Islam is the religion of the country, and they
wish to learn more about it.

Ironically, the Malays have always been willing to adopt other languages
and make them a part of their language. There is a profusion of Arabic,
Sanskrit, Chinese, Portuguese, Dutch and English words in the Malay
language. Today, Malay words are actually being replaced by English
words spelt and pronounced to suit the Malay tongue. In fact, some
English-educated Malays even use English as one of their home languages.
It does not make them English—they can be in fact very Malay—so the
objection against using English in the teaching of science and mathematics 203
is strange, to say the least.

Education at its rudimentary level is about being able to read and write,
add, subtract, divide and multiply. Very quickly after that, however,
education must be directed at preparing you for life as an adult in an ever-
changing world. You need to know how to contribute positively to
the economy and society, and improve your own standard of living.
What kind of knowledge is needed? Today, and for the foreseeable future,
it is the sciences—the natural sciences or social sciences. Mathematics,
for example, is very important whether it is in engineering, business and
accounting, or computers. Likewise, management is important, both in
theory and practice, and will serve you well no matter what path you take
in life. These are some of the skills we should have, and there is a core role
for basic religious knowledge and the ethical systems that can provide you
with an anchor in the right values.

That is the role of religion in everyday life. If we wish to get into a religious
debate beyond that, we must remind ourselves of the injunction in the
Quran that Muslims must prepare for their own defence. In the days of the
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Prophet Muhammad (pbuh), defence was about having bows and arrows,
lances and warhorses. Today, we need guns and tanks, rockets and missiles,
warships and fighter planes. We need modern telecommunications,
satellites and lasers. For all this, we need the sciences: knowledge of physics,
chemistry, material sciences, mathematics and more. If we don’t have this
knowledge, we will have to source our defence needs from others. We will
then depend on others for our defence. We will not really be fulfilling our
obligation as Muslims. So, the study of the sciences and mathematics must
be taken as enjoined by Islam.

I must admit that I did not push for this when I was Minister of Education
from 1974 to 1976. There was just too much to do especially when I
became Prime Minister later on. When I led the Government, I focused on
development and giving people a good life through increased opportunities
to earn a decent living for themselves. I spent a lot of time thinking about
how to move the country forward in terms of economic and industrial
development. To put it bluntly, I focused on the bricks and mortar—and the
skills, stamina and perseverance to turn knowledge and raw materials into
buildings. I did not think I needed to frame an argument in religious terms
as to why Muslims, that is Malay-Muslims, would benefit from learning
204 about new things—I thought this would be self-evident. Unfortunately,
without a proper translation of this vision for higher education in a
language the people can understand, small-minded ideologues have filled
the gap and there is now a widespread weakness in our value system.

I like to contrast our experience with that of the Japanese. They have proven
themselves to be achievers and they do everything with an immense degree
of passion and dedication, whether it is brush painting, understanding
their place in this world, or building a state-of-the-art computer system.
The Koreans on the other hand are driven by a strong need for national
development. If you read Born of This Land—the biography of Chung Ju-
yung, the founder of Hyundai—you will find that he talks constantly about
Korea and very little about himself. In a book that is supposed to be about
his life, he keeps saying “I must do something for my country.” When you
want to do something for your country, you do good. It’s when you want
to do things only for yourself that you tell yourself it’s okay to cheat a little,
to plagiarise a little, and steal a little money here and there. No one would
know. But in the end, you cheat yourself and you cheat those who come
after you by progressively wrecking the value system that was once based
on ethics and integrity.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

If we do not attend to the values our children hold, it is likely that they will
fail when they grow up. They will not have the foundations to know how to
use their knowledge, let alone the moral foundations to use their knowledge
for good. Regrettably, there are many Malays who feel that getting a
university degree is wonderful in and of itself, and whether their degrees
are relevant to their goals in life doesn’t seem to be very important to them.
That is why, given a choice, most of them would opt for “easy” subjects in
areas that they are familiar with—such as Malay studies, religious studies,
Malay literature. They would not opt for the tougher subjects that are new
and unfamiliar, such as science and mathematics. When you opt for what
is familiar all the time, you don’t challenge yourself and equip yourself to
face difficulties. In this respect, education must remain compulsory, and I
would go a step further and make various “difficult” subjects compulsory
as well. There is actually no point in going to university to study Malay for
no other reason than that it is an easy way to get a degree.

By all means put on the gown and wear the mortarboard. Malays seem to
enjoy these rituals—perhaps it looks very good because it is easily identified
with Western images of intelligence. What is more important is to copy the
West in terms of mastery of knowledge, and its applications. Again, if
we look East, we will find worthy examples. I was awarded an honorary 205
doctorate by a university in Japan. Unlike Malaysia, where such events
are filled with pomp and ceremony, the Japanese affair was very simple.
There was the Chancellor and myself, my wife and a university official and
nobody else. There was no audience. There, it is knowledge itself that is
important, not the appearance of intelligence.

A question of values
It all comes down to our value system. As I mentioned at the outset, the
difference in value system was what prevented Malaysians from building a
common identity and core. At its most fundamental level, we learn the basics
of our values from our parents and siblings. We mimic, reflect and absorb
the values that they have, whether they consciously teach them to us or just
through our observations of them in everyday life. Today, however, parents
are simply too busy—both parents are often at work and cannot spend
enough quality time with their children. So, the role of educating children
in the foundations of their values falls to institutions—kindergartens
and, later, schools. I am not blaming parents, nor am I blaming schools.
However, I am blaming our collective failure as a community of citizens to
 CAPTURING

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ensure that our children receive the best foundations in terms of the values
that we are able to give them.

I go to Japan a lot and talk to young Japanese about their culture. We

examine questions such as: what does “Japanese culture” mean? What
aspects of Japanese culture enable individuals to succeed? One of the
values which influence their behaviour is the concept of shame. The feeling
was so strong that they would commit seppuku—ritual suicide, which we
generally refer to as harakiri—if they suffered dishonour and shame in
the old days. There were many instances of it at the end of the Second
World War, and more recently in 1970 when the author Yukio Mishima
committed seppuku after failing to stage a coup d’état. Today, seppuku is not
the norm in Japan, but the concepts of dishonour and shame are still very
strong. We often see senior public officials or heads of major corporations
in Japan going on television to bow in public, apologising and resigning
because of dishonour—mismanagement, scandal and so forth. But the
concept of it is present everywhere in life: for the Japanese, producing a
bad product or failing to do something you were told to do is shameful.
So, when you are given a task, you would want to produce the best results
possible. If you failed, you would feel terribly ashamed of yourself. That is
206 why Japanese products have become the standard for good quality.

In Malaysia we do not commit seppuku because it is not in our culture to

do so. Many of us are forbidden by religion from committing suicide. But
we do not seem to have a sense of shame. You find people going to jail in
handcuffs, but smiling for the camera. We have politicians who brag about
how much money they have, which they cannot account for. We have other
politicians who seem to be quite happy to sell their loyalty for money or
positions. We have a former Prime Minister who has been charged and
convicted of corruption, and yet his supporters go around chanting, “Malu
apa, bossku?” (“What’s there to be ashamed of, my boss?”). And the boss
certainly does not feel ashamed. We are always excusing ourselves in order
to justify the wrong that we do. We do have a sense of shame but it is
different from that of the Japanese. The only shame we feel is when our
sarong falls off in public, exposing us for the world to see.

As it is, the Malay community is in urgent need of a wake-up call. I want

to stress this again: for Muslims, there are so many teachings in the Quran
about values. Islam is not just a religion, belief or a faith. It is also a way
of life. What is the way of life of Islam? If you read the Quran, you will
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

find guidance on how to live your life as a good Muslim. The teaching of
religion in schools should focus on the Muslim way of life, on the value
system of Muslims. Muslims are enjoined not to steal and not to kill. We
should not fight wars of aggression. We must not be dishonest—instead,
we must honour our promises. All this is in the Quran, but do we read and
learn these values? No. In Malaysia we emphasise only the performance
of the compulsory rituals for our Afterlife. Yes, we must do that. But the
Quran emphasises that we must not forget our portion in this world.

The emphasis on religion in schools actually goes back to British times—

there was no religion taught in Government schools in the Federated
Malay States, but in the Unfederated States, Muslim students were given
religious lessons in the afternoon. After independence, Islam became
the religion of the Federation of Malaya, and thus the teaching of Islam
became a feature in the national curriculum for Muslim children (with
non-Muslims taking Moral Studies classes). For these lessons, religious
teachers of varying qualifications were employed, and though there were
specific subjects to be taught, these religious teachers were often left to
their own devices. Over time, the religious teachers began to wield more
power than the other teachers. If they made suggestions about what should
be taught, the head teacher would not dare to object for fear of not giving 207
due respect to Islam. Of course, there were also education officers in the
Civil Service, and even Ministers, who were strongly religious and wanted
students to learn more about their religion. As a result, more and more
time was allocated for the teaching of Islam to Malay students. These
should only be confined to the basic knowledge of Islam as required by
ordinary Muslims, but instead they were given extensive lessons as if they
were all going to be ulama. With more non-Malays leaving the increasingly
Islamised national school system, national schools as a whole began to
look like Islamic religious schools.

Today, there is an overemphasis in these schools on compulsory rituals—

fardhu ain, consisting of the five daily prayers, the fast of Ramadan, the
payment of tithes, performance of the Haj, and so forth. Yes, we must give
due attention to these requirements, but in Islam there is also the concept
of fardhu khifayah, that is, communal obligation—as I mentioned in the
previous chapter. This is a religious obligation binding upon Muslims as a
whole. If this obligation is not discharged, then the community will bear
the blame. It is not only the learned in Islam who will gain merit—the
person who looks after the well-being of Muslims also gains merit—but
 CAPTURING

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generally we do not consider contribution to the services of the community

as worthy of merit. As a result, we neglect all this in the belief it is not
enjoined by our religion.

We are also desperately unwilling to stick our necks out to speak the truth.
I see this time and again in the Malay value system. We avoid taking
individual risk—if a difficult problem arises, we hope someone else will
do something, especially if there is any risk to our own reputation or
position. Again, and again, people ask me to take actions that they prefer
not to take for fear of being penalised in some way. “Can you please do
something?” Yes, I’m happy to stick my neck out and I have been doing
it throughout my career. It’s true, very often I end up with my head being
chopped off. Blowing the whistle against a crime committed by the powers
that be will inevitably attract the wrath of those powers and you might well
get a hammering. This is how the Malaysian Government tends to react:
if you vote for the Opposition, they find ways to punish you such as by
withdrawing funding from your constituency or getting some government
department to investigate you or to charge you with some wrongdoings.
People are scared, yes, and I understand the reluctance of some to stand
up and be counted. But if everyone were to avoid putting themselves in
208 the line of fire for a principle they ostensibly believed in, then we would be
nothing but a nation of cowards and failures.

We need to change this culture. It is very difficult, but not impossible. It

is a matter of deliberately replacing a bad habit with a good one. If there
is a will to change, we will change no matter how difficult the path is. I
trained myself to accept that as a practising doctor I had to work long
hours. That discipline has served me well. So, when I took the job of being
Prime Minister again, I kept to the same habits even though the workload
was at times horrific. I had to chair a total of 42 committees, for example,
and I needed to be conversant enough with the topics and challenges each
committee dealt with. Each committee meeting took about three hours,
during which time you had to keep quiet and listen to what everyone was
saying. I’m happy to say that I am a very good listener despite being a
“dictator”—but this is the nature of a democratic government. Your task as
Prime Minister is to sit quietly and listen to different people from different
parties presenting different views that will help shape your decision. No
one taught me to do this—there was no instruction manual, no mentor,
no guide.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

I am a Malay, I came from a small kampung in Kedah, and I changed my

habits and value system so that I could achieve what I set out to do. This
is just my personal example—but if I can do this in the sphere of life that
I have chosen for myself, surely many others can do the same or better
in theirs?

Do we ask: what is it that drives us? Is it something internal that we need

to understand about our inner selves? If we are not doing well in life, do
we ask, “Why am I struggling? Is it because I didn’t work hard enough?”
If that is so, then work harder. When I was studying to be a doctor, I was
the least qualified student. I scored only three As (distinction) in the school
certificate examinations—all the rest had six, seven, or even eight As. It
was quite hard to catch up to them, so I just had to study harder. I ended
up reading my textbooks more times than the others until it got to the point
where I could “see” the pages, charts and diagrams in my mind’s eye. I
did not memorise the pages—I just read them so often that I absorbed the
knowledge by dint of repetition. It’s like knowing a person very, very well:
you know the way he walks, his voice. You even recognise his back. It is
because you see him so often that the brain automatically recognises him.
It is the same with learning. Without deliberately memorising the page or
the picture or the chart, you register the information and you can recall it 209
later. I never studied physics in school, but in my first term at university, I
topped the class. I was less qualified but I worked harder than the others.

The English had wonderful role models when I was a child. I even admired
General Gordon, who defended Khartoum in a siege against the Sudanese
forces in 1884. He held out against wave after wave of attacks, lasting almost
a year, before the city was overrun and he was killed. Much later I realised
that Gordon was in fact deeply flawed—even Field Marshal Bernard
Montgomery found him to be a “fanatic” and “mentally unbalanced”—
and I should perhaps have sympathised with the Sudanese, but that is
the power of a well-written story put in the service of empire. For years,
Gordon was a great hero in Britain and all throughout the Empire.

Not so Hang Tuah, the Malay hero whom I mentioned earlier. Malays
are so very fond of quoting that line of his—“Tak akan Melayu hilang di
dunia”—as a nationalistic and rather jingoistic rallying cry for a race that
is being besieged. The fact is that Hang Tuah killed his own companion
from childhood, Hang Jebat, who was trying to avenge him. It is Hang
Jebat who is the hero of the story, not Hang Tuah, whose loyalty blinded
 CAPTURING

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him to justice. We make a hero out of someone who was so subservient to

a tyrannical king that he killed his own best friend. Is this not a symptom
of a value system gone wrong?

This is why the Government’s education policy is so important. We will

not solve this problem without a comprehensive overhaul of the entire
curriculum, from primary to tertiary levels. These measures will be very
unpopular because they will challenge long-held beliefs that have become
accepted as the core of political, racial and religious identity not just for
the Malays but for others as well. There are great gaping wounds that have
formed from years of political division, and these will take great will and
great courage to heal. Everyone is comfortable with what they are familiar
with. But it is crucial to keep up with the times. We need to consciously
accelerate this process, or else we will not keep up with the changes in the
outside world.

We have to decide.

210
 Chapter 10
Whither Democracy in Malaysia?

Democracy is not perfect. It is a human institution, and like all things

human, democracy can be abused. We have seen this happen in many
countries, particularly those that were former colonies of the European
powers as well as those that have been “liberated” one way or another.
We use the word “democracy” as a catchphrase for all that is good and
admirable in the world, but there are times when we openly force nations
to become “democratic” just because some well-meaning people think
it will do them good. We saw this happening, for example, in the Arab
countries when they were democratised after having suffered for years
under tyranny—but what has happened to them since? Some have reverted
to authoritarian military rule, others are fighting civil wars. In yet other
cases, countries that have been “liberated” (such as Iraq and Afghanistan)
are in a state of turmoil after foreign powers invaded them to remove their
authoritarian governments—only to replace them with anarchy, where
government after government has been overthrown because of failures to
understand the workings of democracy.
211
Foreign troops have to be stationed in these countries to prop up weak
administrations, so we should not be taken in by any major power’s claim
about democracy, which is all too often used as an excuse for invasion and
convenient “regime change”.

As I mentioned earlier in this book, I have been accused of being a dictator

throughout my political career. Even now at the age of 96 there are those
who insist that I am power-hungry and cannot be satisfied unless I am
Prime Minister again. If that is the case, I would surely not have resigned
in March 2020 when I lost the support of my party, or in 2003, for that
matter, when I believed the time had come for me to make way for the
next generation. It is a strange dictator who voluntarily gives up power not
just once but twice. The truth is I have been a committed democrat all my
life. I believe in constitutional monarchy because it is a central pillar of
my country’s foundation. I also firmly believe in the Westminster system
of parliamentary democracy because it affords us the best opportunity to
vest sovereignty in the hands of the people. As political leaders, we govern
only with the mandate of the people, and as such we may take no action
 CAPTURING

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that is outside the law of the land and the established conventions of
parliamentary democracy.

Being committed to democracy means that as a leader, you must accept

the decisions of your electors. If the public votes you out of office, you
must leave. If your party loses confidence in your leadership, you must step
down—regardless of your own opinions on the matter. At all times, you
must accept and allow lawful challenges to your leadership. After all, giving
people the power to choose their leaders is a central tenet of democracy.
Many years ago, for example, Tengku Razaleigh Hamzah challenged me
for the leadership of the United Malays National Organisation (UMNO)
and, by default, the prime ministership of Malaysia. Some leaders might
have looked for ways to stop the challenge. I didn’t. I allowed the challenge
to go on. He campaigned against me and spent money, and I did a little
campaigning on my own. When the party voted, I very nearly lost. I
scraped through with a 42-vote majority in a party of more than 2,000
members at the time. It was a fair election, and this is how democracy
should work. I thought, “If the members don’t want me as their President,
that’s that. It is okay. We believe in our party’s democratic structure, and
we must abide by those rules.” This is essentially the same principle as that
212 which arose in February 2020, when I lost the confidence of my party after
my advice was rejected, beginning a chain of events that ended in my party
pulling out of the Pakatan Harapan Government, causing it to collapse. I
had been invited to head a new coalition of those who had lost the general
election. I could not because the voters elected me due to my opposition
to the previous Government. To join a government made up of the parties
rejected by the electorate would be to renege on my promises to the voters.
It would be dishonest and immoral.

For democracy to work, however, the people must understand that they
are sovereign—namely, that they bear the responsibility for keeping
the Government accountable through vigilance, informed choices and
constant engagement. As we know only too well, however, this is an ideal
of democracy rather than the norm. Most people do not have the time or
inclination to concern themselves with every national issue, and it is in this
gap that the seeds of corruption and tyranny first germinate. This happens
in countries like the US as much as it does in the developing world which
has less historical experience with representative democracy—as I said,
democracy is not perfect, but it is the best system that we have. At the very
least it gives the people the opportunity to correct any mistakes they may
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

have made in their choice of leaders. Compare this with actual autocracies
where the absolutist monarch or dictator cannot be replaced. Even if you
are a “benevolent dictator”, you are still a dictator, and there will always
be a tendency to abuse power. Thus, if a chap goes against your plans and
makes a noisy protest that might turn others against you, he is arrested and
detained. If journalists criticise you for practising cronyism, bully them
into silence. That’s the tendency when there is absolute power. Of course,
I’m not saying that there would be no abuse of power in a democratic
country, or even that there would be no attempt to impose tyranny—there
is abuse and tyranny even in this beloved country. But fortunately, we were
able to have an election where the tyranny was overthrown.

The dilemma of power

The overthrow of a bad government is easier said than done. The
Government was very bad when Datuk Seri Najib Razak was in power.
Efforts made to have his party change its leadership failed many times.
When I left the party, no one followed me. The leaders of UMNO and the
rank and file remained supportive of him. The main reason was Najib’s
belief that cash was king. His supporters made a lot of money when he
213
was the Prime Minister. Some of them had billions of ringgit in their
bank accounts. They made money when government contracts were given
out. They controlled permits for foreign workers. They held shares in big
companies. They would not leave Najib’s Government because they were
making a lot of money. Even the rank and file made money. They were not
prepared to overthrow Najib’s Government because of the wealth they had
accumulated. Even the voters enjoyed handouts for various reasons.

It wasn’t easy, but we changed the Government in the 2018 General Election.
We were able to do this because the electorate could not stand the blatant
abuse of power by Najib. The whole world knew of his wrongdoings,
his corruption, the billions of ringgit in his personal account, his lavish
lifestyle, the jewellery for his wife, and so forth. It was difficult but there
were a sufficient number of voters who voted against Najib. Despite that,
we must always remember that many still voted for him. UMNO won the
largest number of seats for any political party in Parliament. Of course,
other members of the Barisan Nasional lost very badly, and in the end
the Barisan Nasional could not form a government—but they have been
fighting to regain power ever since.
 CAPTURING

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Power corrupts but power is necessary to make things work. Power means
that you can issue an instruction and expect it to be carried out. Assuming
you are a manager overseeing, say, a manufacturing process, there is no
way you can do everything yourself. Instead, you have a whole team of
people, each working on a specialised area. Your job is to manage them
and oversee the process to ensure your targets are met. Now, supposing you
issue a bad instruction and people cannot correct you—what will happen?
The machine might break down; life and limb might be lost. So, a manager
should have the authority to give orders but those under him should also
be able to speak their minds. A delicate balance is needed here. This is
exponentially more important in a political environment. You need to be
popular but you also need to get things done. Then and then only would
you be effective.

This concern for popularity is a narrow personal interest. When the Pakatan
Harapan Government fell in March 2020, I suggested a non-partisan
Government that was not party-based and that would be concerned with
the general success of the nation. I did not say who would lead. But the
suspicion was that it was a ruse on my part to stay in power, and so my idea
was rejected. I understand the sentiment, and I do not blame politicians for
214 being suspicious. In my view, all political parties in Malaysia are loyal to
the country in their own way, and there are politicians in each party who
can contribute to the public good. However, this is often suppressed or
hampered by party interests—the need to “toe the party line”. I had hoped
that a non-party-based Government would free politicians from these
restraints temporarily, allowing them to put the national interest above
party interests. So, if someone puts forward an idea that is beneficial to the
nation, even if it is contrary to the position your party has taken or does
not accord with your manifesto, you would be able to decide according to
your conscience without being penalised for breaching party discipline. I
think that is as far as we can go with a “unity government”, but it would
go a long way—the individual parties would remain but there would be an
understanding that we must work together in the national interest.

The failure of leadership

One of the things to understand about Malaysian politics is that it is built
on the dynamics of mass movements, which I mentioned in Chapter 3.
The political dynamic is quite different even in a place as close by as our
neighbour Singapore, where representation is much more selective, even
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

elitist. They have very few politicians, and all are selected on the basis
of their track records. As a result, it’s relatively easy for them to choose
their leaders and groom successive generations for high office. Our politics,
by contrast, involves mass support where political parties have very large
memberships with grassroots representatives at all levels.

In any political environment that is based on mass movements, the

important thing is popularity. This is something you have to think about
all the time—if you aren’t popular, how do you become popular? If you’re
popular, how do you stay that way? One of the easiest ways to achieve
popularity is to give the people what they want—in rural areas, the popular
things are what urban people consider as basic amenities: new roads,
electricity and water supply. It is far easier to hand out money, which some
people justify by saying, “Oh no, it’s financial aid. They need it because
they’re poor.” Of course, this is bribery—it’s literally buying votes. To put
it plainly, there are different approaches to becoming popular—some are
moral and some are not. For example, you can promise that when you
become Prime Minister, you will give every single person a scholarship
if they want one. Education is expensive and this will be a very popular
offer—but can you deliver? Some people don’t bother asking this question
because they know that if they win, they’ll appropriate public funds to 215
provide cash handouts. People will see the money and forget the promise.
Such a person will stay popular, but this practice is corrupt and will lead
to a culture of entitlement. The people will not be productive and growth
will not take place.

There is no system that can prevent this. As I said at the start, all human
institutions can be abused, and it is unrealistic and dangerous to invest in a
system with moral values of its own, such as ideologues do when they claim
their “system”—communism, fascism, theocracy or whatever—is inherently
good. Systems exist to enable and facilitate things but it is the character and
culture of the people that determine how well the system works, and how
much value is placed on integrity, honesty and accountability. Consider the
Japanese—as a whole, they are concerned about the development of their
country and are motivated as a community towards that goal. Likewise,
the Koreans: after they emerged as a modern democracy in the late 1980s,
they focused their attention on competing economically at the global level,
and they chose the right people, basically non-politicians, to help them
achieve that. In Malaysia, however, most people do not think about the
actual performance of their Ministers and politicians. For example, when
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the Pakatan Harapan took over the Government, we stopped providing

large-scale cash handouts that Najib’s Government had been giving out
under his Bantuan Rakyat 1Malaysia (1Malaysia People’s Assistance)
scheme. The Pakatan Harapan Government had neither the money nor the
inclination to bribe voters, but we were severely criticised for that. Many
Malays said, “Well, Najib might be bad and he might have stolen money,
but he gave us money. This new Government under Dr Mahathir has taken
that money away.” It is appalling that many people do not see how morally
repugnant bribery is.

How can we begin to discuss democracy and accountability when large

sections of the population are not only ignorant of their civic duties but
see things like cash handouts as an entitlement? In such an environment,
fuelled by the dynamics of mass movements, it takes an almost superhuman
effort to maintain your integrity and not be drawn into the same popularity
game. It is certainly true that for far too many politicians, corruption has
become so much a part of their culture that they are unaware of it. Too
many politicians are scoundrels and seek election to public office as a
way of making a lot of money. The corruption of the mass movement
has created a situation where they know that if they support the Prime
216 Minister, the Prime Minister will support them, just as they are in turn
supported by grassroots members and so forth, with outstretched hands at
every step asking for something in return for that support.

We have come to the stage where people can hold the Government to
ransom through withholding votes. This is the problem with our democracy
today, and it is something the next generation will inherit from us. In a
very skewed way, some people have been corrupted by the power of the
vote: “If you don’t do this for me, the whole village will not vote for you.”
Through the use of bribery and handouts, they can actually make this
happen and we will end up subverting the basic principle of representative
democracy by no longer choosing the best and most qualified people to
represent us, but instead looking for whoever seems most likely to bribe
us or obey us. They use you just as you use them, and before long we will
have replaced honest and qualified candidates with self-serving con artists
with absolutely no integrity, loyalty or principle. Just observe how many
politicians jump ship every time there is a change in the direction the wind
blows, and you will realise that the thing they are truly loyal to is money.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Again, democracy is not and should never be held up as a perfect system. It

is the best system to achieve our goal of investing sovereignty in the people.
But for that sovereignty to have real meaning, the people themselves must
exercise their civic duty by being educated about what the national interest
is, and how their decisions affect that. Otherwise, we will end up electing
those who simply know how to play the popularity game. This is one of the
biggest problems of Malaysian political life today.

Another major problem is the general lack of understanding Malaysians

have of the institutions of government and roles these institutions play as
defined by the Federal Constitution. For example, I find that not many
people understand the reasons for my resignation in March 2020. I write
about this in greater detail in the next chapter, but here let me just say that
I resigned because I no longer had the support of my party, Bersatu. When
you lose support, you have to resign—to refuse to do so is untenable in a
democracy. So, I resigned as Chairman of Bersatu. Not being Chairman
of Bersatu meant that I was no longer qualified to be leader of the Pakatan
Harapan. Not being leader of the Pakatan Harapan meant that I could
no longer be the Prime Minister. Besides, the Pakatan Harapan itself had
lost the majority to form the Government—it could no longer sustain the
prime ministership. 217

In such a situation, Parliament might be dissolved and a general election

might be called. Alternatively, Parliament might choose a new candidate
to be Prime Minister by giving him or her majority support. That person
might be me again or it might be someone else. Whatever the result, we
must accept it. That is democracy. What I did not expect was that the
Yang di-Pertuan Agong, Sultan Abdullah Shah—the Paramount Ruler
of Malaysia—decided to determine the support of MPs by way of sworn
statements made in his presence. The idea was that he could thus be sure
that the candidate would be someone the House would support. There
would be no rejection of the candidate named by the Agong—he or she
would be “a member of the House of Representatives who in his [the
Agong’s] judgment is likely to command the confidence of the majority of
the members of that House.”

However, the Pakatan Harapan, which had previously expressed full

support for me at the Presidential Council, now decided to support
Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim instead. At the Palace, 92 MPs of the Pakatan
Harapan gave their support for him. I got 62 votes from Bersatu as well as
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possibly Datuk Seri Azmin Ali’s faction of Parti Keadilan Rakyat (PKR).
This meant that neither Anwar nor I had the majority of the 222 MPs.
When this became clear, the Agong decided to go by a declaration of the
heads of the political parties that they supported Bersatu President Tan Sri
Muhyiddin Yassin as Prime Minister. In fact, Muhyiddin did not have the
support of the majority of the Members of Parliament. When I discovered
this, I asked for an audience with the Agong, but he turned me down.
Strictly speaking, the House could reject his choice. By that time 114 MPs
had supported me. After the Pakatan Harapan named Anwar and lost,
they came back to me, asking me once again to be their candidate. But it
was too late. The Agong had made the decision to appoint Muhyiddin,
who subsequently went to extreme lengths to avoid a sitting of Parliament
until he had bought sufficient support.

Healing the cancer in the body politic

I have had a long time to think about all that has happened. It has been a
headache because modern Malaysian politics seems to boil down to one
thing: how can we ensure that politicians honour their promises and do
the right thing in the national interest? There is no satisfactory answer. So
218
much depends on personal integrity and the preparedness of each citizen
to stand up for what is right. When we saw what was wrong with Najib’s
Government, we formed a new political party, Bersatu, and created a
political alliance with others for the express purpose of ending the misrule
of the Barisan Nasional and correcting the mistakes that had been made.
Now, we found ourselves out of government, with the Barisan Nasional
back in power even though they lost the election. Politicians who have
been convicted of crimes by the courts were still free to attend Parliament
and vote.

In a proper democracy, you must respect the results of the election. This is
a cardinal rule, even if you find that the people you voted for have changed
and have gone off in a different direction compared to what they promised.
You can protest this. You can use the democratic measures at your disposal
to call them to account and, if necessary, you can do your utmost to ensure
that they are voted out at the next election—but you must respect the result
of the vote. So, it’s not only in Malaysia that people seem to vote based
on misguided loyalty—for example, voting for Donald Trump despite
knowing that a candidate is a bad apple.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

In Malaysia, when we decided to contest the 2018 General Election, my

party Bersatu actually expected to win quite a number of seats. During
the campaign, thousands and thousands of people attended our rallies,
and crowds of 20,000 were not uncommon. As I mentioned in Chapter
4, they would get out their phones and turn on their mobile phone lights
to show us they supported us, so we had a reasonable expectation that
this sentiment would translate into votes. But on election day, we won
only 13 seats. That was a bit of a shock. At the same time, Najib and his
party UMNO won the largest number of seats for a single party—that is,
UMNO won more seats than PKR, the Democratic Action Party (DAP)
and all the others. What does this tell us? To me it shows that people still
supported Najib and UMNO despite knowing full well that this man and
his associates had stolen large sums of public money. It was shocking to
me. How could people—Malaysians—knowingly do this to themselves?
By voting for UMNO, they were saying effectively that they endorsed the
kind of corruption and abuse of power that UMNO had been indulging
in. This was a route to disaster, and if Malaysia accepted corruption to this
extent, trust for politicians would collapse. And without trust, it would be
impossible to have the kind of credibility a country needs to survive and
succeed in this world.
219
Corruption—petty and grand—seems to be endemic in Malaysian society
now, and much of it has been festering for years. Politicians consolidate
power increasingly through divisive rhetoric, appealing to and exploiting
racial and religious sentiments so they can gain popularity, power and
wealth. This is a cancer in the body politic, and it threatens to destroy
the entire fabric of our nation. And yet, the common people still look
to political leaders to save them. No, this is not the way. It is the people
themselves who must defeat the disease. In our system, the power to elect
or not to elect—the power to bring down governments, build up values
and principles, demand accountability from the servants of the public, and
much, much more—lies with the people. The people must decide what
they will do to gain a good government. When somebody comes and
offers you a bribe, you should reject it. When you are caught infringing
some traffic or parking rule, do not offer a bribe; and if the person
in authority solicits one, report it. If a politician tries to bully you by
making access to a basic amenity like electricity contingent on supporting
him or her, fight against it and get rid of the politician. As long as we
are prepared to take the easy way out, turn a blind eye, accept a bribe
(even in the form of a government handout), we ourselves contribute
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to the slow but certain death of democracy. We should vote for people
with integrity, but to do that, we must first have integrity ourselves.

The vote is something you exercise every now and then. It is an important
part of democracy—if you don’t vote, you’re effectively voting for the
wrong people—but it is not the only part of what a healthy democracy is.
You need to be an activist, and as a society, we need non-governmental
organisations (NGOs), the Press, community groups and individuals to
hold all authority to account. If an MP crosses over for no better reason
than he was paid to do so, bring him down. But, if he then tries to assuage
you by giving you some of that money or some other “sweets” and you
take it, then you are a part of the problem. Basically, our personal moral
values must be good enough—writ large, they are reflected in the values
of society, and this in turn shapes the values of others and determines the
health of our democracy.

It usually starts with individual conscience, but the lone voice is rarely ever
enough. You need others of a like mind and a platform to be heard. In my
early days as a politician, we had voluntary and charitable bodies but no
NGOs as we understand the term now. In Malaysia today, there are many
220 single-issue NGOs that champion specific areas of concern, such as the
environment, the rights of the poor, and so forth. The purpose of NGOs
is to exert pressure on the Government to act on these specific issues of
concern. From the Government’s perspective, this can be a nuisance, and
some politicians feel themselves under constant surveillance and pressure—
but this is how social responsibility is achieved. Imagine if the Suffragettes
did not do things that were considered outrageous by the standards of
their time—chaining themselves to railings, for example—women today
might not have the right to vote. Times change and we change with the
times, but it pays to remember that NGOs are human institutions and
they are themselves susceptible to abuse. There are interest groups today
that push so far forward that they threaten to cause social disorder and
the breakdown of the same moral codes that underpin our concepts of
integrity. Some politicians go along with this because they do not want to
risk the loss of votes; but if everyone does this, and no one is brave enough
to exert leadership against the tide, then democracy will weaken just as
much as when it is assailed by corruption. So, the matter always returns to
the individual conscience—you have to decide for yourself what the right
thing is, and it does no good to abnegate that responsibility by looking to
someone else for the answers.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

The importance of a free Press

The very odd thing about my career is, time and again, I have been accused
of attempting to stifle the Press. This was especially the case during my first
government as Prime Minister—and together with the complaints about
my being a dictator would be criticisms that I had prevented free expression
by exerting power over the newsrooms of the print and broadcast media.
It is true I have criticised the Press on a number of occasions, but never
for being free. Sometimes I run up against reporters who are abusive or
editorial objectives that are one-sided—and I dislike the hypocrisy of people
claiming to be a free Press when they actually put forward the business and
political agendas of their owners, no matter how subtly.

What irks me the most, however, is sloppy reporting—when a reporter does

not do a proper investigation and merely rehashes an old story reported
elsewhere without checking its truth, and then holding it up as if it were
indisputable fact. One of their favourite topics was the allegation that I had
interfered with the judiciary in the 1980s. I pointed out that I took pains to
keep apart from the judges. I never cultivated friendships with them, and
I certainly never invited any judge to a state or private function other than
the Lord President of the Supreme Court and, later, his successor the Chief
221
Justice, as representatives of the judiciary as a whole. There is the case
of the dismissal of the Lord President Tun Salleh Abas, who got on the
wrong side of the Yang di-Pertuan Agong at the time—Sultan Iskandar. In
1973 when the Agong was still Crown Prince of Johor, he was convicted
of assaulting two men for overtaking his car. The prosecutor in the case
was Tun Salleh, and now he was the senior-most judicial officer of the
Federation, and the former Crown Prince was the Agong—and the Agong
wanted him removed. The Attorney-General at the time was Tan Sri Abu
Talib Othman. He prosecuted in the Tribunal set up to determine whether
Tun Salleh should be dismissed. The Tribunal concluded that Tun Salleh
was wrong. But media reports only stated that Tun Salleh had said things
against me, that I was the one who initiated the action. As a result, I was
accused of interference with the judiciary by removing the Lord President.
Years later, Abu Talib explained to the media that it was not I who initiated
the action. He stressed that it was the Agong. But anyone writing about me
still blamed me because they only read the reports before Abu Talib denied
that it was me. This still happens today.

At the same time, there are criticisms of the Press that they are too
submissive—especially those media organisations that are linked to
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Barisan Nasional parties by virtue of ownership. Indeed, even those that

are not directly owned by one of the political parties have often come
under fire for not asking tough questions. This may be true, but we have
to remember that the Government of Malaysia has been known to take
stern action against media organisations by withdrawing their licences and
ordering publications to cease. Occasionally, individual journalists might
be punished in one way or another, while those speaking to journalists
might also face consequences for being too critical of the Government.
For these reasons, people are disinclined to talk about anything that the
Government might dislike—self-censorship in this case is rooted in very
real censorship in the form of penalties. In the UK, on the other hand, you
can say almost anything and the Government will not take punitive action
against you unless you commit a crime in doing so.

In the UK, newspapers are heavily influenced by the views and opinions
of their owners, who in turn tend to be aligned with one of the two main
parties—the Conservatives or the Labour Party. So, the notion of newspapers
being influenced by political parties is not exclusive to any country—it
happens in the US, the UK, and many other places, but in Malaysia it goes
a step beyond all this. Here, political parties own shares directly in the paper
222 or media organisation. At the same time the Government issues licences
and other permits for publication and broadcast which it can withdraw
or suspend on the pretext of “protecting public order”. This is precisely
what Najib’s Government did to the business weekly The Edge in 2015 in
an attempt to suppress coverage of the 1Malaysia Development Berhad
story. The Edge fought back and filed for judicial review of the order, but
many other agencies are unable or unwilling to challenge the Government.
Journalists are not exactly the most well-paid people in Malaysia, and for
them the publishing or broadcast licence is everything. This means that, all
too often, they are extremely sensitive about what the Government wants
to hear. This is a serious problem. An insecure government might enjoy
reading pleasant untruths about itself, but a properly managed government
needs to know the real problems people are facing and address them before
they fester to the point of becoming major sources of conflict. This is one
of the most important functions of the Press in a healthy democracy, and
it is why we frequently refer to it as the Fourth Estate—an integral but
independent part of the governance of a country.

I know that by raising the issue of Press freedom here, my detractors will
point out that during my time in office, I too had suspended the publication
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

of several newspapers. This is in reference to the period of Operation

Lalang in 1987. However, those actions had nothing to do with silencing
my critics or any fear of some wrongdoing being exposed. It was a period
of dire uncertainty and racial hostility, and I have explained the matter at
length in Chapter 41 of the first volume of my memoirs, A Doctor in the
House. It was strictly a decision made by the security forces and the police,
which I was bound to follow.

My view of Press freedom is simple. The best solution is to abolish the

entire system of media licensing in Malaysia. Anybody with the means
and desire should be free to publish and criticise within the limits of the
common law. We can see this to some extent in the online media, which
enjoys a great deal more freedom than traditional media. But then there
are also those who are very irresponsible, who abuse this freedom and
say things that would otherwise be prosecuted as libel or, worse, spread
incendiary ideas for the purpose of provoking violent clashes. These are
not the only abuses of the internet; there is the entire dark web—the parts
of the internet that are not accessible by regular search browsers—which
can be used as a trade route for child pornography, illegal arms, drugs and
even human trafficking. But just as we do not shut down the internet, we
should also not shut down the Press. 223

The Press must be free. We must recognise that people will always have
opinions and beliefs that differ enormously from our own. When the
Pakatan Harapan was the Government, we did not attempt to exert control
over the Press as was previously done. As a result, the Press hammered
us—for example, we lost a lot of support among Chinese Malaysians
because one of the main Chinese-language newspapers, Sin Chew Daily,
was very much in the habit of condemning the DAP. It got to the point that
everybody knew: no matter what the DAP did, even good things, it would
be attacked by Sin Chew. And then there were the Malay papers, which
sometimes supported us, and sometimes UMNO. That is the nature of a
free Press—it has a duty to inform the public, but no agency is ever truly
unbiased, so it is up to the public to make up its own mind.

The Government’s duty is not to shape how the public thinks by controlling
its access to information. There must be certain rules. You can’t go around
preaching murder, for example, nor do we want to see a return of the “Page
Three Girl”, that is, pictures of scantily clad women that some newspapers
printed on the third page as a means to increase sales, nor do we wish to
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abandon established areas of law that affect the activities of broadcast and
print media—the courts are the venue for complaints of libel and so forth.
Whether or not the media should be self-regulating (and what standards
it adopts) is a debate that should be held by the public. However, I do not
believe that the Government has any business licensing media firms or
journalists. We expect the profession to be responsible, and that is all.

In Malaysia, this discussion is closely related to the issue of laws allowing

preventive detention—that is, laws that allow the authorities to take pre-
emptive action to detain someone in order to prevent the commission of a
crime. These laws are usually described as “draconian”, and in Malaysia,
we used to have the Internal Security Act 1960 (ISA) and the Emergency
(Public Order and Crime Prevention) Ordinance 1969, which allowed the
authorities to detain an individual without trial. The ISA was promulgated
during the British colonial rule in response to the Communist insurrection.
We knew that the insurgents in the jungle were supplied and supported by
collaborators in the towns who had actually not broken any law per se. The
authorities could not afford to let activities directly or indirectly supportive
of the insurrection go on. It would prolong the war and lead to death and
destruction in the country. So, the ISA allowed the authorities to detain
224 those suspected of aiding and abetting the Communists and, together with
several other measures such as the relocation of jungle settlements to urban
“New Villages”, it was very effective overall; Malaysia is just about the only
country in the world that has successfully defeated a Communist guerrilla
uprising. So, the issue is not whether the law is preventive or punitive—it is
whether the authorities enforcing the law are honest and whether we, the
public, are able to ensure that those authorities are accountable.

What safeguards can we put in place? A free and responsible Press is

certainly one, and we can set up systems to encourage accountability. But
here, I reiterate again: systems are not inherently good or bad. Everything
depends on the people who run the system. There is a Latin saying by
the poet Juvenal: “Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?” Who will guard the guards
themselves? You can’t have an endless chain of people keeping one another
under constant surveillance—that is what it was like in Communist Russia
under Joseph Stalin when families would spy on each other, always
looking for “disloyalty”. No, in countries that have successfully dealt with
corruption and inefficiency in government, you will not find an uprising
like that of the Communists against the Tsar.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Now, the continued use of the ISA beyond the Communist Emergency, and
the Emergency Ordinance beyond the race riots of 1969 was to stop crimes
before they happened. Supposing the police have good intelligence of a
planned terrorist action involving people who are known to have espoused
very extreme ideologies. Now, let’s assume these plotters are intelligent and
take pains to leave no concrete evidence of their conspiracy that would
allow a prosecution under a punitive law such as the Penal Code. This is in
fact what has happened on several occasions—but should we have waited
for them to commit their atrocities before we took action? Must we let
someone intentionally murder another person before we act? What good is
a punitive law to the victim, especially if the authorities know beforehand
what the perpetrator intends to do? It is too late to wait for the thing to
happen. We have a duty to prevent it, which is why we need preventive
laws—including laws that allow preventive detention—as much as we need
punitive laws and the highest standards of evidence.

Now, I will say here very clearly that preventive laws are very susceptible
to being abused. If you have the power to detain someone indefinitely
without trial, you might be tempted to arrest those you don’t like. Again,
Lord Acton’s words ring true, and this kind of power is very dangerous
as the person who wields it may abuse it, but this does not negate the fact 225
that such laws are needed in the first place. Indeed, while preventive laws
can be abused by a would-be tyrant, so can punitive laws. In Malaysia,
there have been cases of the authorities using provisions of the Income
Tax Act to open investigations into companies that haven’t actually done
anything wrong. The resulting negative publicity, however, is more than
enough to damage that company’s reputation and cause it some very
serious problems.

Rather, it is more important to focus on the building of personal integrity

through culture and value systems. This is what will determine if you will
do the right thing when no one is watching. This is not to say that everyone
has a natural tendency to do the wrong thing if they can get away with
it—it merely shows that culture and values are immensely important in
determining ethical behaviour.

Consider the customer at a hotel buffet who pockets extra sachets of salt
and pepper—he doesn’t need all of them, nor is he really so desperately
short of seasonings in his house that he must resort to stealing them.
Even employees in food and beverage outlets do this, and I’ve had a lot
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of experience of it running my bakeries. People do the wrong thing for

no reason at all. Perhaps they feel entitled—or perhaps they do not think
it is wrong to begin with. This, I believe, is the root cause of the problem,
and it is entirely due to the culture and values we have as a society. We
need to raise our children in a culture that respects and honours good
values—honesty, integrity, courage to think for oneself and stand up for
one’s beliefs. This is the only way to counter such behaviour. The moment
we ensure compliance by surveillance—by stationing police everywhere
or by erecting video cameras in a kind of Orwellian dystopia—democracy
will fail because there is nothing motivating civic behaviour but fear of
punishment.

Having said all that, I do have faith in humanity. Most of us do not steal
even if we have the opportunity to do so. Why? Because we know it is wrong
in and of itself, and we are able to hold ourselves to our own standards. It
doesn’t matter where you are in life—integrity is not determined by race,
income, social privilege or any of that. This applies also to people without
integrity: those who already have wealth, power and social position still
steal billions. Why? Not because they set out to be villains, but rather
because they don’t seem to understand that thieving is wrong. When we
226 see corruption and theft on a grand scale, then there is something very
rotten in the core values of our society. In Malaysia we like to proclaim
that we are a Muslim-majority nation, and yes, there are people who do
the right thing even when nobody but God is looking. However, there are
far too many people—including people in positions of great power and
responsibility—who do not care even if God is looking directly at them.

An independent judiciary
We cannot go around just hoping for divine intervention to keep politicians
honest. After all, in the Quran, it is clearly stated that Allah will not help
you unless you help yourself first. I’ve written a lot about the law from
the perspective of a legislator and member of the Government, but not
as a lawyer. I am aware that there have been many criticisms of my first
government as Prime Minister, particularly that I interfered with the
independence of the judiciary. I did have some misgivings when some
unexpected judgments were made, but I restrained myself for fear of being
charged with contempt of the court. Privately, I made my views clear. But
the accusations that I interfered with the judiciary have never stopped. I
should point out that it was only after I stepped down that I realised how
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

wrong it was for Prime Ministers to arrogate unto themselves the power to
appoint judges. It was a function the Pakatan Harapan Government sought
to dismantle. When I was Prime Minister, all appointments were made on
the advice of the Lord President or Chief Justice. I then passed that same
list, unaltered, to the Agong who would formally make the appointments
“on the advice of the Prime Minister”. Now, the term “advice” in
constitutional law actually refers to a binding instruction from one officer
of state to another. You may dispute the instruction if you have strong
reason to, but the normal constitutional convention is that it is not actually
“advice” in the common sense of the word at all. This is something a lot of
Malaysians do not seem to understand.

So, when I was Prime Minister, at no point did either the Agong or I actually
change any recommendation because we understood the constitutional
limits to our authority. Now, with Najib on the other hand, it came to
light that he personally favoured two of the highest judicial officers of the
land by intervening and extending their terms of office past the mandatory
retirement age in 2017. This had never happened before. Both these judges
voluntarily resigned in June 2018 after the Pakatan Harapan Government
came to power, correcting what would otherwise have been a dangerous
precedent. Of course, it is wrong for a Prime Minister to extend the 227
contracts of any judge, let alone the Chief Justice and the President of the
Court of Appeal, but I do not believe that Najib was perturbed by that fact.
I believe he found these judges supportive of him and had wanted them to
remain in their positions.

Now, a few months after the Pakatan Harapan Government fell in March
2020, Najib’s stepson, Riza Aziz, had money-laundering charges against him
dropped in return for what was touted as a “plea bargain” under which he
would return the money that he was alleged to have improperly received from
1Malaysia Development Berhad. I do not understand this. It’s as if you have
apprehended a thief and then told him: “You can keep 60 per cent of what
you stole. Just return 40 per cent to us and you’re a free man.” Subsequently,
other politicians on trial for corruption suddenly had their charges dropped,
and there has been a great deal of speculation about whether the judicial
system was in fact free from outside influence—but actually the decision to
drop the charges was made by the new Attorney-General.

As I write this, Najib has been convicted and still faces a raft of other
charges, and yet he is free to attend Parliament and make statements as if he
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were still in power. Some people wonder if he will ever go to prison for the
crimes he has committed. There are those who think that the prosecution
team under Pakatan Harapan Attorney-General Tan Sri Tommy Thomas
moved too slowly, but the truth was that we had to abide by the rule
of law and due process. Untangling the money trail and assembling all
the necessary evidence was a long and tedious process because of the
complexity of the case. But when certain people who were on trial were
suddenly freed without much explanation, people started to ask: “Is the
separation of powers working in Malaysia? Does the executive have direct
power over the judicial system?”

In my view there is never a truly complete separation of powers, especially

between the legislative and the executive branches. Certainly, there is a
very close link between the executive and the Civil Service, which is to
be expected, but the judiciary should be independent of the two other
branches of Government. The judiciary should not be influenced by any
party—we need judges on the bench who are not influenced by anything
except the rule of law. The common law is a long-established body of legal
thought, and even so there is always room to improve it, with judge after
judge adding to the tradition with each new judgment. However, for this
228 to work, each judge must be a student and defender of that tradition, and
must uphold the impartiality and dignity of the judiciary.

It remains my hope that the judiciary will stay an independent and sovereign
institution in our country. It is the only branch of government that is, and
must remain, above the rough and tumble of political considerations.
Everything has now been compromised, and the judiciary is Malaysia’s
last line of defence against the moral collapse of our society perpetrated by
politicians of no conviction other than their own self-interest.
 Chapter 11
Fall of Harapan

A few months after we formed the Government in 2018, Muhyiddin came

to see me. He had two concerns: first, the economy wasn’t growing and
second, the Malays were not making progress. He attributed both problems
to the Democratic Action Party (DAP) being part of the Government.
He also blamed the DAP for the Pakatan Harapan’s by-election losses
in the Semenyih state constituency, and the Kimanis and Tanjung Piai
parliamentary constituencies. Moreover, Muhyiddin believed that I was
being influenced by DAP’s Lim Guan Eng, that the DAP controlled the
Pakatan coalition and that the Chinese-dominated party was deliberately
obstructing efforts to give the Malays a portion of the economic wealth
of the country. He told me that the Pakatan coalition should just dump
the DAP, and that Parti Pribumi Bersatu Malaysia (Bersatu) should
form a new Government with the United Malays National Organisation
(UMNO) and Parti Islam Se-Malaysia (PAS). This Government would
be a “Malay-Muslim” Government, which is an idea that I believe came
from Najib when he lost the election and faced the possibility of being
jailed for corruption and embezzlement of government money. Najib 229
tried to persuade PAS to join him in the establishment of a Malay-Muslim
Government, but he failed because they did not have the numbers.

In early 2020, the MP for Larut and now Bersatu Secretary-General Datuk
Seri Hamzah Zainudin, who was a close friend of Muhyiddin’s and who
left UMNO with 12 others to join Bersatu in December 2018, began a
campaign to get UMNO and PAS leaders and other MPs to sign statutory
declarations supporting me as Prime Minister. At the time, I did not object as
I thought this would strengthen my position and enable Bersatu to become
a stronger member of the Pakatan Harapan. Much later, I realised that
what was actually taking place was a stealth campaign to separate me from
the rest of the Pakatan Government. A meeting of the Pakatan Harapan
Presidential Council was scheduled for the night of 21 February 2020.
Before this took place, Muhyiddin called together the senior members of
Bersatu where I was told that at the Pakatan Harapan Presidential Council
meeting, several demands would be made of me.

First, I would be asked to step down in May 2020. I was also to appoint
Anwar as Deputy Prime Minister, failing which, I would be obliged to state
 CAPTURING

HOPE

the date of my relinquishing the post of Prime Minister. Muhyiddin and

the others said that if these demands were made, then Datuk Seri Azmin
Ali of Parti Keadilan Rakyat (PKR) as well as Bersatu representatives in
the Presidential Council would walk out. This would mean that we and
our parties would effectively exit the Pakatan Harapan, which would in
turn result in the fall of the Pakatan Harapan Government.

When 21 February came around, the Presidential Council meeting lasted

four hours. There were suggestions regarding the length of my tenure as
Prime Minister, but there was no agreement about any announcement
concerning the date of my retirement as this would have made me a
“lame duck” Prime Minister. There was also no suggestion that Anwar
would replace his wife, Datuk Seri Dr Wan Azizah Wan Ismail, as
Deputy Prime Minister.

By midnight, however, no decision could be made. I was chairing the

meeting but took little part in the debate. I was prepared to accept whatever
decision that the Council made, but there was no agreement on any of the
proposals. As it was late, I asked the Council to make a decision. There
was no decision, so I suggested that we should maintain the status quo.
230 They all agreed that I should be allowed to stay with my previous stand
that I would not announce my date of retirement. There was no walkout
and no pressure for me to step down at any time. I had full discretion to
decide when I would retire. I would effectively remain Prime Minister for
whatever period that I chose. However, I left the meeting troubled. My
party had wanted to leave the Pakatan Harapan outright if any pressure
was put on me, but now that no pressure had been applied, how would my
party react?

Bersatu was scheduled to hold a meeting of its Supreme Council two days
later on Sunday, 23 February 2020. I turned up early as I wanted to talk
to Muhyiddin. I told him that since the Presidential Council had agreed
that I would be free to determine when I would step down and when I
would announce it, and since they had not demanded anything from me,
I had no excuse to leave the Pakatan Harapan. As such, I wanted Bersatu
to postpone any move to a time when the Pakatan Harapan did in fact
do something that was not in keeping with the spirit of the coalition.
This is what I told Muhyiddin in the morning. I said that we should wait
to see whether the Pakatan Harapan’s support for me was as real as the
Presidential Council said it was. Only if something untoward happened
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

would we leave the coalition. I also suggested that, at the very least, we
should wait until the graft trials against Najib were concluded. I assured
him I would continue to ensure that Malay interests were not neglected by
the Government and that I would deal with concerns about the DAP, as
these things seemed to be troubling him.

Muhyiddin didn’t look relieved or happy, and then the other senior
members of the party came in. They included Hamzah and Datuk Dr
Marzuki Mohamad (Muhyiddin’s private secretary) together with Bersatu
Youth wing leader Syed Saddiq Syed Abdul Rahman and my son Mukhriz
who was party Deputy Chairman. Again, I explained my position not to
take any action immediately unless the Pakatan Harapan coalition chose
not to honour the decision of the Presidential Council in respect of my
retirement. I thought they agreed with me and that the Supreme Council
would also do the same.

We then adjourned to attend the meeting of the Supreme Council, which

I chaired as usual. I began by explaining why Bersatu should not do
anything, as the Pakatan Harapan had vowed to support me fully. There
was also no attempt to force me to resign in May 2020, or even to force
me to provide an exact date for my resignation as Prime Minister, and 231
there was also no demand by Anwar to be made Deputy Prime Minister.
So, I told the Bersatu Supreme Council that we had no reason to leave the
Pakatan Harapan, which was an action that would undoubtedly cause the
Government to fall. I stressed that I would step down later, as promised,
and a new Prime Minister could be appointed. If I was required to return
to the post, I would do so. After I made my speech, Muhyiddin spoke in
his capacity as party President (in Bersatu, the Chairman is senior to the
President), and gave a long speech as usual.

I could not make out whether or not he supported me, but the members
seemed to think that he was not with me. When the debate was opened,
it became apparent that many members did not support my appeal to put
off any move to leave the Pakatan Harapan. Then, suddenly, my own
political secretary banged his fist loudly on the table and demanded that
we, Bersatu, leave the Pakatan Harapan immediately. This was followed by
other members who also started banging on the table as well and clapping
in agreement to leave the coalition at the earliest possible opportunity. I sat
through the meeting and heard everyone’s views. There was strong support
for Muhyiddin, but I kept trying to push forward my views until I realised
that I was in the minority. Only a clutch of members sided with me.
 CAPTURING

HOPE

I knew the battle was lost. I told them that, as the leader of a democratic
party, I had to accept the decision of the majority. So, finally, I made a
request: “Please give me time; please don’t announce this.” I was being
asked to stab in the back the very people who worked with Bersatu to
overthrow the kleptocrats. But even if the DAP was the destructive monster
as it was painted out to be, I could not bring myself to work with Najib and
his party of thieves. I therefore appealed against destroying the Pakatan
Harapan Government. I asked for time. I promised to resign and, when I
did, Bersatu could chart its own path forward. I thought they respected me
enough to give me a week to decide what to do.

At the time, the idea of Bersatu forming a pact with PAS and UMNO
was shocking to me, to say the least. We were certainly open to individual
members of these parties joining us if they believed in our struggle. I did
not, and do not, subscribe to forming pacts with kleptocratic parties that
the public rejected. When it was proposed, I could not see how it would
work. I kept asking questions, trying to grasp the idea, which I thought
was inconceivable. You can find a way to form a new government if
you like, for example, if MPs feel that the Pakatan Harapan should be
replaced by another coalition of parties, but the final decision should rest
232 with the MPs. I did not wish to have anything to do with bringing down
the coalition that won the election with the support of the people. To do
so would be a betrayal of the electorate and the mandate we had won.
The people voted for us because we were against Najib and we wanted to
bring him down. If I had gone along with Muhyiddin’s plan, I would be
empowering a coalition that was definitely not supported by the voters.
That was absolutely wrong.

As I felt we needed to think carefully before making the next step forward, I
didn’t dismiss the idea. Muhyiddin was the President of my party and I was
obliged to consider his views. He had stories about the DAP, but I could
not make a decision without evidence. There had to be concrete reasons
for the Bersatu members’ wanting to leave the Pakatan Harapan, so I didn’t
close the door to the possibility of leaving. “Let me think about it,” I said.
Right until the last moment, I said, “Look, don’t make any decision yet
because Pakatan Harapan supports me. Let’s give ourselves some time.”
I needed proper justification as I found it hard to believe that the DAP
was doing what they had been accused of doing: controlling me and the
Pakatan Harapan Government. Besides, if there were legitimate fears of
the DAP’s threat to the Malays, how should we address those fears? After
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

all, hadn’t we done just that for 60 years? Was the DAP so powerful that it
could destroy the Malays while I was still the Prime Minister? The DAP is
a minority party regardless of who is Prime Minister—and besides, Malays
are not stupid. Is there any proof to show that the DAP was in fact a threat?
If the Malays weren’t making economic progress, was it because the DAP
kept them down, or was it because of something else? Blaming the wrong
person and taking action against that person is unjust and will not solve
your problem—because your problem remains with you. I discuss my
views on the “new Malay Dilemma” in Chapter 7, but the fact is, I strongly
believe that the Malays are as good as anybody else. I was fully aware
that the DAP was focused on their own agenda, sometimes to the point of
ignoring other views, but I did not think the party was a threat to anyone.
At least, in the Cabinet, I had no trouble getting the DAP members to agree
to the policies and programmes we wanted to introduce.

Outside the Cabinet, it was a different story. DAP MPs such as Dr P.

Ramasamy and several others would openly attack me, calling me names
and blaming me for everything. This angered a lot of Malays. When I
showed no interest in responding to such wild accusations, it was taken
as evidence—especially by UMNO—that I was under the influence of
the DAP. Other Pakatan Harapan Cabinet members rarely stepped in to 233
defend the DAP. They did not want to be seen as pro-DAP as this would
not have made them popular with the Malays, especially. From my vantage
point, however, there was no basis to the claims made at the Bersatu
Supreme Council meeting on 23 February. But I was outnumbered. I went
home feeling downcast and deeply hurt. There to meet me were the heads
of Pakatan Harapan parties as well as Sabah Chief Minister Datuk Seri
Shafie Apdal of Parti Warisan Sabah. Later, those who came to see me
included Datuk Patinggi Abang Abdul Rahman Johari Tun Abang Haji
Openg of Sarawak, Datuk Seri Abdul Hadi Awang, Datuk Seri Azmin Ali
and Muhyiddin. They tried to persuade me to go with them to the Istana.
But I refused.

That same evening, I had been invited to a gathering of Bersatu members

together with UMNO and PAS leaders. I chose not to attend as the meeting
was never raised or agreed to in the Bersatu meeting. This meeting was the
“Sheraton Move” as it became known later. It was in fact an endorsement
of the new coalition of UMNO, PAS and Bersatu, together with Azmin’s
faction of PKR. Strangely, the meeting was initiated and paid for by Azmin
who defected from PKR with a number of other members. Azmin had
 CAPTURING

HOPE

wanted to join Bersatu but there were several Indian members in his faction
who would not have been eligible for membership as Bersatu was a Malay
party. Later, Bersatu under Muhyiddin converted into a multiracial party in
order to accommodate these members. Muhyiddin and Azmin had wanted
me to join them to lead this new coalition. So, to be clear, I was invited but
I did not go. The proceedings and the outcomes were determined without
me and without my input.

That night, I mulled over the events of the day. I knew I could not carry out
the party decisions. What reason had I to bring down the Pakatan Harapan
coalition that I had worked with to successfully defeat the kleptocratic
Prime Minister? Why would I need to establish a new Government? Doing
so would violate the principles I held. Yes, we had the DAP in the coalition,
and it had been ferociously against me when I was Prime Minister the first
time around. They called me names, labelled me all kinds of things and
accused me of cronyism and corruption. But during the formation of the
Pakatan Harapan, to my surprise, the group proposed that I be made the
leader of the coalition, and eventually the Prime Minister.

As I said in an earlier chapter, Bersatu won only 13 parliamentary seats at

234 the 2018 General Election while the DAP won 42 seats. Despite this, the
DAP did not object when I gave six Cabinet portfolios each to Bersatu and
the DAP so that we had equitable representation. I gave senior posts to
Mohamad Sabu as head of Amanah, Datuk Seri Dr Wan Azizah as head
of Parti Keadilan Rakyat, and two very senior posts to Bersatu: Muhyiddin
as Minister of Home Affairs and myself as Prime Minister. Now, I could
not very well have given a junior post to the DAP leader, so Guan Eng
became Minister of Finance. This showed good faith on everyone’s
part, and we worked on the basis of consensus—the DAP could not do
anything without the approval of the members of the coalition. Besides,
I was Chairman of the Pakatan Harapan and also had the authority of
the Prime Minister—and the DAP certainly acknowledged this authority
both in and outside the Cabinet. As a member of the Government, they
could not take any unilateral action without my approval. The only person
who seemed annoyed by this arrangement was Muhyiddin—he wanted
the Finance portfolio for himself and was unhappy about being Minister
of Home Affairs. For a time, he sulked. I do not know why he wanted the
Finance portfolio so much, but eventually he accepted the Home Affairs
Ministry and I remember how relieved I was when he did.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

All the talk about the DAP having me under their thumb or the DAP plotting
to take over the country was utter nonsense. I never felt any pressure from
the DAP, and I could easily show that Guan Eng did not have any control
over me. The fact remains that without the DAP, Amanah and PKR, we
would never have defeated the Barisan Nasional and Najib. Bersatu by
itself was—and is—nothing. And as I watched the events leading to the
Sheraton Move unfold, I was astonished that Muhyiddin wanted me to
betray and overthrow all the parties that helped us. If we didn’t leave the
Pakatan, Muhyiddin said, the Malays would be hancur (crushed). This was
what Najib and his people had been saying. Now Muhyiddin was saying it.

As it turned out, Muhyiddin was running out of time. He was aware he

was not getting any younger, and he kept insisting that if we didn’t act
immediately, we would lose the support of PAS and UMNO MPs who had
signed statutory declarations to support me. There and then, I wondered
what kind of support these MPs were pledging to give me. There had never
been any talk about leaving the Pakatan Harapan at all—until Hamzah
Zainudin came into the picture. He was a close associate of Muhyiddin’s
and did not have to undergo the stringent requirements for all UMNO
members who wanted to join Bersatu. In almost no time at all, he went
from resigning from UMNO to attending top-level meetings with Bersatu 235
leaders and, on several occasions, as a newcomer, he even came to see me.
I now realise what a complex plan he and his people had to bring Najib
back into the Government. Then, he managed to secure signed statutory
declarations supporting me from PAS and all UMNO MPs, including
Najib. Hamzah then informed me that I had the support of all these people,
which to him must have meant that if I left the Pakatan Harapan, I could
form a government with them. What he didn’t realise was that I would not,
under any circumstances, work with UMNO. They could sign whatever
they liked and they could pledge loyalty to me, but I was not going to be
involved in a government with kleptocrats. Once he realised this, he worked
on Muhyiddin. I knew that Muhyiddin, Azmin and Hamzah had been
talking to one another and at one point, they also met in England. Before
that, there were members in Bersatu who were so opposed to UMNO they
even felt that UMNO’s registration should be withdrawn because of the
corruption UMNO was involved in. There were good grounds to argue for
the deregistration of UMNO but Muhyiddin managed to persuade us not
to go down that road. UMNO could be used, he said.
 CAPTURING

HOPE

In all these earlier Bersatu meetings, Muhyiddin had stressed that he did
not want to become Prime Minister but along the way, he reconsidered his
stance on the matter and made himself a willing conspirator with Hamzah.
So, on the night of the Sheraton Move, I knew I had to resign as Bersatu
Chairman because it was clear I no longer had the support of my party.

I thought long and deeply about the implications of my resignation. I

was the Pakatan Harapan Prime Minister by virtue of being Chairman
of Bersatu. If I was not the Chairman, I could not be Prime Minister of
the Pakatan Harapan Government. As such, I needed to resign as Prime
Minister as well. Besides this, the Pakatan Harapan Government had
effectively been overthrown by the defection of Bersatu and Azmin’s faction
of PKR, and I could not continue to be Prime Minister anyway regardless
of whether I resigned as Prime Minister or not. There was the possibility
that Parliament would choose my successor—and if they chose me again,
then I would not be a Prime Minister from Bersatu or the Pakatan Harapan
for that matter but of the whole Parliament. This was what I was counting
on. Having decided on this course, I decided to inform the leaders of the
Pakatan Harapan coalition the next day. I began with Dr Wan Azizah of
the PKR. I then told Anwar, Lim Guan Eng of the DAP, and Mohamad
236 Sabu of Parti Amanah Negara. Anwar did not seem too upset by all this.

So, on Monday, 24 February, I submitted my resignation letter as Prime

Minister to the Agong, Sultan Abdullah Shah, and that evening I had an
audience with him. He was unhappy with my decision but in the end he
accepted it on the condition that I acted as Interim Prime Minister until a
new Government could be established. As Interim Prime Minister, I had
to make arrangements for Parliament to sit, as normally this would be the
task of the Prime Minister’s Department. The sole item on the agenda
would be the naming of my successor. However, the Agong decided that
instead of a parliamentary sitting, he would get all MPs to make statutory
declarations before him as to their choice for Prime Minister. As the Speaker
had informed the Agong that I could not call for a sitting of Parliament
without providing 14 days’ notice, I believe the Agong’s decision to resolve
the issue quickly through statutory declarations was the right thing to do.

Why did I resign?

I have been asked many times why I did not inform the Pakatan Harapan
Presidential Council that I was resigning as Chairman of my party. One
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

suggestion was that I could have gone to another Pakatan component

party—either Amanah or PKR—and told the Presidential Council about
the problem. I could then either join one of those parties or have the
Presidential Council declare its support for me there and then. Again and
again, I have explained that when it was openly demonstrated to me that I
no longer had the confidence of my party, I had no choice but to step down
as Chairman of Bersatu. This had nothing to do with the other Pakatan
Harapan parties. They would not have been able to assist me. Besides, at
the time, I felt that Bersatu, with 12 MPs at the time, was much too small
to cause the rupture and collapse of the coalition but when Azmin and his
breakaway faction of 11 PKR MPs stood with Muhyiddin and other PAS
and UMNO leaders at the Sheraton Hotel that Sunday evening, it was a
clear signal that the Pakatan Government had fallen.

Some people insisted that my resignation was part of a hidden agenda,

but the truth is that I refused to become Prime Minister of a new coalition
composed of the defeated parties that we were against right from the
beginning. Joining the new pact would resuscitate UMNO and make it a
part of the Government. I would be betraying the people who supported
me in the general election, and I would also be reneging on my promises
to the other parties in the Pakatan Harapan coalition. Furthermore, after 237
I became Interim Prime Minister, the Agong indicated that whoever was
nominated as my successor should not be rejected by Parliament. At
the time, I believed I had the support of the majority of the Members
of Parliament. Even though my party Bersatu might not support me, I
believed the rest of the MPs in the Pakatan Harapan would, and that I
could return as Prime Minister to complete the work we had started. In the
event, the Agong chose a different route.

The usual procedure in a Westminster democracy is for the party to decide

on its own succession—but it must still have the majority in Parliament.
This was what happened when British Prime Minister Theresa May stepped
down. The Tory party’s choice of successor (Boris Johnson) was put before
Parliament, which would decide whether or not to confirm it. Therefore,
in our case, the matter should have gone to Parliament straightaway as
the Pakatan Harapan Government had fallen. But the Agong needed to
be sure that MPs were making the decision without pressure or influence.
On Tuesday, 25 February 2020, the Agong had the MPs sign declarations
stating their choice in front of him. It took two days for 222 MPs to declare
their choice. At the time, the Pakatan Harapan and its allies had 102 MPs
 CAPTURING

HOPE

while UMNO, PAS, Bersatu and an independent bloc led by Azmin Ali
controlled 97 seats. The winner needed a simple majority of 112 MPs to
form the Government. Unofficial counts suggested that I could depend
on the support of some 130 parliamentarians. The King was expected to
conclude his interviews of all MPs by Wednesday evening. I met Sabah
Chief Minister Datuk Seri Shafie Apdal who headed Parti Warisan
Sabah (a Pakatan coalition-member) that same evening. Shafie had
always supported me strongly, and I felt I could depend on him to gain
majority support.

A last-ditch attempt at unity

The following morning, I met other Pakatan Harapan leaders to offer
them a new way forward. I had noticed that governments based on
parties were usually so engrossed with party matters that they neglected
pressing national issues. What we needed, I argued, was a non-partisan
Government—not forever, but until the next general election. The new
Government would have representatives from different political parties
but no one would focus on their respective party agendas. In addition, we
could also draw in specialists and other professionals to help us find policy
238
solutions to some of the more complex problems we faced. The attention
given to the national agenda would accomplish so much more in a shorter
period of time. This would not be a permanent set-up, and I felt that the
new arrangement would prove to be a welcome respite from the constant
political feuding that was turning off so many Malaysians.

I was particularly concerned about the overwhelming cynicism and fatigue

on the part of the public with politicians as a whole. As The Edge said
in its editorial for 29 February 2020: “The country needs a break from
the venomous politicking of recent years.” Since I was told that I had
support from all sides, I proposed to my Pakatan colleagues and later,
the Opposition, that we set up a unity government until our collective
problems subsided. After all, the national agenda was clear: people wanted
security and stability. They wanted a good life. They wanted to be able to
do business and earn a decent income. They also wanted their children to
receive or have access to quality education. These were and will always
be the priorities of the people—but not always the priorities of political
parties—and there was also the burgeoning threat of the COVID-19
pandemic to deal with at the time.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

I was reminded of Britain in the Second World War. At the outset of the
war, they had Neville Chamberlain as Prime Minister. Chamberlain made
a number of blunders, including the disastrous policy of appeasement
with respect to the Nazis. As a result, Chamberlain and his Conservative
Party faced a vote of confidence and narrowly won. Nevertheless,
Chamberlain later resigned, and Sir Winston Churchill succeeded him as
Conservative leader and Prime Minister. However, Churchill decided that
for the duration of the war, they would have a national government that
included Conservative and Labour politicians working together. This is
one of the reasons why Britain was able to conduct the war successfully.
So, that morning, on Tuesday, 25 February 2020, I explained to my
Pakatan colleagues why we needed to form a unity government. There
was a precedent for this, and it happened in 1969. We were then under
Emergency rule because of the 13 May race riots and the country’s second
Prime Minister, Tun Abdul Razak Hussein, wanted to establish a unity
government with the Opposition joining and working with the Alliance
Government. Tun Razak spoke to Tun Dr Lim Chong Eu and managed
to get his party, Parti Gerakan Rakyat Malaysia (Gerakan), to join—at
the time, Gerakan had been dead against the Alliance. Tun Razak also
persuaded PAS, the People’s Progressive Party of Perak and the Sarawak
United People’s Party to join, but he failed to convince the DAP. 239

Now, for the sake of the country, I strongly felt that we had to consider the
idea of a unity government. In the new arrangement, every party would
be represented and everyone would be free to express their views, but they
would have to accept the principle that the majority would decide—not a
consensus because that would be impossible. In some cases, the majority
could be just 40 per cent, and for particularly fractious issues, a majority
of 25 per cent might have to do. For more important matters, a two-thirds
majority would still be required—there would be agreement on what the
majority would be for different matters, and I would certainly not rule by
fiat. The Government would make a decision and professionals would
implement it, subject to the laws and regulations of the land.

I felt that this would let us focus on the nation and not the individual
agendas of each party. Perhaps I didn’t explain myself very well as I didn’t
get far. The rejection from my Pakatan colleagues was unanimous—the
concept was too radical. Later, one of my colleagues told the Press that
my plan was “over-reaching”. Anwar said that forming a non-partisan
government outside the framework of the Pakatan Harapan was “foolish
 CAPTURING

HOPE

and short-sighted.” Former Deputy Minister of International Trade and

Industry Ong Kian Ming said that the plan was “unworkable” and that the
unity government would not have any obligations to the Pakatan Harapan
manifesto, and was “against the mandate of the people.” Bukit Gelugor
MP Ramkarpal Singh of the DAP said, “Effectively, it [will be] a Mahathir
government and not a Harapan government. The promises of the Harapan
manifesto will not be fulfilled.” Datuk Seri Dr Mujahid Yusof Rawa, who
had been Minister in the Prime Minister’s Department, declared the idea
to be “obscure” and said that I had made “the Prime Minister’s power
as a decider on the cabinet list without having to take into account the
views of party leaders as a consensus.” Mujahid, who was also Amanah
Vice-President, said that as a result of my resignation, all of the Pakatan
Government’s efforts, such as the lowering of the minimum voting age
to 18, declaration of assets for parliamentarians, and the fight against
corruption, had been placed in jeopardy.

Formally, however, they said that they did not wish to work with UMNO
and PAS. Meanwhile, UMNO and PAS also rejected the unity proposal
and their reason was the involvement of the DAP. UMNO Secretary-
General Tan Sri Annuar Musa said that “the idea of a unity government
240 goes against our parties’ principles of not being associated with DAP […]
We are withdrawing our support for Mahathir unless he wants to create a
coalition Government without the DAP […] The best thing is to dissolve
Parliament for snap polls [and] leave it to the people,” he said at a joint
Press conference held by UMNO, PAS, MCA, MIC and Parti Bersatu
Rakyat Sabah. On Thursday, 27 February, senior DAP leader Lim Kit Siang
issued a statement: “Although the idea of a national unity government is
attractive and should be considered by all rational Malaysians, one thing
is clear: no national unity government can be established on treachery,
deceit, corruption, betrayal of the people’s mandate or by promoting
national disunity.” Kit Siang concluded that the Pakatan Harapan should
reject the unity government and support Anwar as the Pakatan Harapan
candidate for Prime Minister.

These criticisms notwithstanding, I still wanted to find a way. I was not

alone in my belief that a unity government would help us through these
disruptive times. On 29 February, The Edge Financial Daily, which was
critical of me at times, enthusiastically supported the idea. The paper said,
“A unity government […] greatly reduces rivalry for power among political
groups, allowing them to channel their energies towards a common
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

objective, so fostering the greater good of the nation […] It is abundantly

clear that the current ugly political environment needs to be sanitised, and
by de-emphasising partisan politics, sensitive issues of race and religion
can be better managed in the spirit of national unity.” The paper also said
that the unity government “may not fix all the problems that our nation
faces but will give everyone a breathing space that we badly need after the
toxicity of the past few years.”

A non-partisan unity government also promised several important

economic advantages, with an econometrician, Prof. Mahendran Nair of
Monash University, Malaysia, saying that Malaysia was facing multiple
threats to its economy, and that “a unity government will stop all the
politicking and put politicians back on the road to salvaging the economy.
We need this as we navigate through one of the most challenging times
due to the (US-China) trade war, intensive competition from other regional
players and COVID-19.” Prof. Mahendran said that the economy had not
reached its full potential as my position as Prime Minister was not as strong
as it was in my first government. “Perhaps, a positive outcome from all
this is a unity government that puts the interest of its people and socio-
economic development of the country first. There should be less politicking
and other trivial matters that can fragment the nation and stifle its progress. 241
The world is changing fast and the nation needs to keep up and not be
hindered by pent-up race and religious issues,” he said.

I had been invited by the Pakatan Harapan to elaborate on how to form a

unity government across the political divide. I thought that it was too soon
for me to explain. If we had agreed, I would not have been the only one to
implement the plan. We would have to set it up together. So, everyone had
to agree, not just me. The form and shape and the personalities would all be
open to discussion by the parties in the Government and the Opposition.
Academics and professionals would have to be consulted. True, the
proposal came from me as I was at that time the Interim Prime Minister.
I simply felt that if the emphasis was the national interest—and not party
interest—then we would need to go beyond our differences for the sake of
the nation.

For the unity government to work, someone would have to take the lead. I
thought I might be called to lead again, but it was not my wish to become
a dictator. My colleagues in the Pakatan Government knew this. Those
who used to call me a dictator when I was Prime Minister the first time
 CAPTURING

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around were now my Cabinet colleagues and they saw and understood
how I worked. I always gave everyone a chance to express their views, as I
mentioned, and only after everyone had spoken would I summarise what
was said and then decide on the best way forward for the country. They
knew that I didn’t do things unilaterally. And, after all, I had used Britain
in the Second World War as an example—after the war ended, they threw
Churchill out. I had no plans of being Prime Minister for life.

The aftermath
On Wednesday, 26 February, I went on TV and apologised for the political
turmoil caused by my resignation. I assured the public that I would return
as Prime Minister if I had the support of Parliament. “I believe, right or
wrong, politics and political parties must be set aside for now. If I am
allowed, I will try to form an administration that doesn’t side with any
party. Only national interests will be prioritised,” I said. I was reasonably
optimistic that Parliament would save the day. The following day, as Interim
Prime Minister, I held a Press conference to announce a RM20 billion
economic stimulus package to help revive the economy, which had been
in the doldrums for several months. We were starting to feel the impact
242
of the COVID-19 pandemic, which was then moving very quickly around
the world, and as a medical doctor, I knew how quickly the infection
could spread. In addition, I announced that the Agong had informed me
that if he could not find any candidate with a distinct majority, the right
forum to determine the leadership of this country would be Parliament. As
Parliament would sit on 2 March 2020 for this purpose, I said that if the
House failed to arrive at a decision, there would be snap elections.

This announcement had a different effect on different parties. Perhaps

the most damaging was the Pakatan Harapan’s directive to all its MPs to
support Anwar as Prime Minister instead of me. Anwar had somehow
convinced them that he was a frontrunner in the race. Accordingly, he
suggested that the Pakatan Harapan should nominate him. It seems that
Anwar had claimed that he enjoyed the support of the Sarawak and Sabah
political parties, which would have given him the majority. Thus, when the
Pakatan Harapan MPs signed their statutory declaration in front of the
Agong, they named Anwar. However, Bersatu, which was no longer in the
Pakatan Harapan coalition, supported me. The result was 92 for Anwar
and 62 for me. If the Pakatan Harapan had named me as they should,
I would have had the 92 votes as well as the 62 that came to me. This
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

meant that I would have had 154 votes, which was a comfortable distance
ahead of the 112-seat majority to form the Government. With 154 votes
I would have been the person chosen to be the Prime Minister again, not
a Prime Minister from Bersatu alone but Prime Minister as named by the
majority of the Dewan Rakyat. But that did not happen. With the votes
split as such, we both lost. I was deeply disappointed, but I still had hopes
of settling the matter in Parliament.

On Friday, 28 February, nine state rulers attended an unscheduled

Conference of Rulers at the National Palace, indicating the seriousness
of the situation. The Speaker of Parliament, Tan Sri Mohamad Ariff Md
Yusof, declared that without a decree from the King, there would be no
special sitting of Parliament on 2 March. The Palace confirmed this in a
statement, adding that the King would continue to engage with political
leaders to find a suitable candidate from the 222 MPs he had interviewed.
That afternoon, Bersatu, the party I founded with Muhyiddin and my son
Mukhriz, nominated Muhyiddin as its candidate for Prime Minister. Soon
after, UMNO and PAS declared that they were backing him.

Naturally, the group that championed Anwar became very anxious and
realised they had made a mistake by backing Anwar. That night, they came 243
to my house, asking whether I would be willing to be a candidate again.
One of the conditions they put before me was to make Anwar Deputy
Prime Minister. I said “no” because I felt that if Anwar was named Deputy
Prime Minister, some MPs would not support us, and this would deny me
the majority I needed. I also said that Guan Eng could not be the Finance
Minister in the new set-up, for the same reason. As the priority was to
gather as many supporters as possible, Guan Eng accepted this but Anwar
didn’t. I said that if he insisted, I would not offer myself. It took Guan Eng
the entire night to persuade Anwar to give up the idea. The next morning,
they informed me that Anwar had finally agreed to do as I suggested. We
then started collecting statutory declarations again, and we managed to get
114 by the afternoon. We had a simple majority of three members.

There was a great deal of activity at the Palace that morning. Muhyiddin
arrived early with his new backers: PAS President Datuk Seri Abdul Hadi
Awang, UMNO President Datuk Seri Dr Ahmad Zahid Hamidi, and Azmin
Ali, the former Deputy President of PKR, who defected to join Muhyiddin
only days earlier. Close to noon, Pakatan Harapan leaders were seen going
into the Palace. Soon after, Anwar arrived and informed the Agong of a
 CAPTURING

HOPE

change in the Pakatan’s choice of Prime Minister. He said the coalition

had one candidate and that it was me. We had 114 MPs supporting us.
This assured me that we had the majority—but for some reason unknown
to me the Agong was unwilling to receive me. We tried again and again to
see him. Finally, the Palace informed us that the King did not wish to see
me. To my utter surprise, at 4.30pm, the King announced that Muhyiddin
would be appointed the Prime Minister and that he would be sworn in the
next morning.

Earlier, the Agong had told me that he didn’t want to appoint someone
who might be rejected by Parliament. The best thing was for Parliament
to decide, and for him, the Agong, to approve the decision after that—
this was precisely what he said when I submitted my resignation on 24
February. But now he had done the opposite. The law says that the Agong
may appoint as Prime Minister anyone he believes has the support of the
majority of Members of Parliament—but if I had 114 MPs supporting
me, how could Muhyiddin have more in a House of 222 seats? That
same morning, I held a Press conference to inform Malaysians that “the
loser would form the Government while the winner would become the
opposition […] It is a very strange situation.” I also said that I didn’t get a
244 chance to tell the King that Muhyiddin did not have the majority. “That is
the situation now, I cannot communicate with the Palace,” I said. But we
did not challenge Muhyiddin’s appointment. We did not wish to go against
the King. Of course, after he became Prime Minister, Muhyiddin offered
ministerial posts to my supporters as inducements to leave me to join him.
He then achieved his majority.

I’ve been asked whether the Agong was influenced by anyone. Well, there
was the Conference of Rulers meeting that took place on Friday. There was
also another possible factor at play: the verdict for Najib’s SRC case was
coming up very soon and he was desperate to postpone it. To do that, he
had to be on the side of the Government, hence the need to show what a
good Muslim he was by pushing for the establishment of a Malay-Muslim
Government. I was told that the people in Pahang, where Najib was a
traditional chieftain, were very unhappy that he was on trial. Whether they
wanted to save him or not, I do not know, but Najib and his scandal-mired
team have since managed to crawl back into the scene.

You can draw whatever conclusion you wish from that.

 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Chapter 12
Friends and Enemies

In those early weeks of the Perikatan Nasional government, Muhyiddin

stopped making statements on politics because he was very busy trying
to get support for himself. He even appointed a new Secretary-General
of Bersatu—Hamzah Zainudin—to gain access to members’ details
and information, enabling him to campaign at the division level. The
appointment was against the party’s constitution but there was no one to
stop him from doing this. Muhyiddin also had to deal with an increasingly
unhappy UMNO, which was finding itself with the short end of the stick.

On 6 May, the UMNO Supreme Council unanimously rejected a proposal

to form the Perikatan Nasional coalition. They said they never agreed to
it. Of course, this wasn’t true but after several weeks, they insisted that
they never agreed on forming the coalition and said that they would not
support Bersatu—but they would continue to support Muhyiddin as Prime
Minister. At the Supreme Council meeting, they said very clearly that
Perikatan Nasional was not a registered political entity like the Barisan
Nasional, and the leadership of UMNO unanimously rejected the motion 245
to join the Perikatan coalition. UMNO Deputy President Datuk Seri
Mohamad Hasan affirmed that UMNO’s relationship with Muhyiddin
“was just an understanding to form a government and rule Malaysia as the
Pakatan Harapan had failed.”

Muhyiddin now needed basic support in Parliament to maintain legitimacy.

Unlike Najib, who liked to hand out cash, Muhyiddin preferred to appoint
people to positions of power and influence. If there wasn’t a post, he
created one and paid large sums of money to the new appointees. That was
why half of the Bersatu politicians defected from the Pakatan Harapan to
Muhyiddin’s side, and there were also many others who switched sides
simply because they hoped to become Ministers in Muhyiddin’s new
Government. In the end, there were some 70 people from the different
parties who became Ministers or Deputy Ministers, and a number
were awarded new titles: Hadi Awang became a “Special Envoy”, with
ministerial rank, to the Middle East. Datuk Seri Tiong King Sing, who was
President of the Progressive Democratic Party (PDP), a component of the
Gabungan Parti Sarawak (GPS) coalition aligned to Muhyiddin, was made
Special Envoy to the Far East. Several others were made “advisers”. There
 CAPTURING

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were no formal agreements, so these were basically bribes: “Join me, and
I will make you a Minister.” When Muhyiddin ran out of ministries to
hand out, he started giving out positions in GLCs and government-linked
investment companies (GLICs), sacking the professional managers that the
Pakatan Harapan Government had appointed.

Maszlee Malik, the Education Minister in the Pakatan Harapan

Government, was offered the position of “adviser” to the committee
running Majlis Amanah Rakyat—a position specially created for him. He
rejected the offer. Others succumbed. If the person was appointed chairman
of one of the government companies—Khazanah Nasional, for example—
he or she stood to take home as much as RM80,000 to RM100,000 a
month. How easy is it to say “No, I don’t want RM80,000”? So, most of
Muhyiddin’s supporters were acquired through such means. It’s actually
worse than a bribe—you give someone a job, and he or she will get a salary
of tens of thousands of ringgit every month. That’s a lot of money. So,
under Muhyiddin’s watch, all the new appointees of government agencies
and GLCs are politicians. The Pakatan Government got rid of politicians
in many government companies and replaced them with professionals who
were not party members. Now, all that has been reversed and it is “business
246 as usual”.

In May, Muhyiddin appointed Datuk Seri Idris Jusoh, a politician and

former Minister, as head of the Federal Land Development Authority
(FELDA), removing the very successful professional manager, Tan Sri
Mohd Bakke Salleh, who was my choice because FELDA had been in
deep trouble, having previously been mismanaged by another politician
under Najib. I believe that politicians can serve on the boards of statutory
bodies, GLCs and GLICs, but not as chairpersons, or any position with a
conflict of interest. This was what we agreed to in the Pakatan Harapan,
and Muhyiddin was part of that decision. Now, he was removing all the
professionals and replacing them with political supporters. It reminded me
of the Malay word “terpalit”—where you move around with people who
are dirty, and part of the dirt will stick to you, too. Muhyiddin was working
like Najib, doing the kinds of things that Najib did, and they both got away
with it because too many politicians were motivated by greed.

Sadly, too few politicians put the country before their own interests. If
there are any in the Perikatan Nasional who do, I haven’t noticed. In the
early days of the Perikatan Government, many were changing sides simply
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

to gain access to wealth and privilege. Why did we let this happen? The
Pakatan Harapan didn’t have any money to match what they were offered,
and besides, we would not engage in the same culture of corruption
that we were trying to eradicate. In fact, we couldn’t offer these people
anything other than words: “Look, what you are doing is wrong and you
are destroying the nation.” We could only appeal to their conscience. They
would say, “Well, as a Minister, I’m well paid.” Only two individuals
refused to be bought over, and we didn’t even have to say anything to them.
The first was Maszlee Malik, who could have chosen any position he
wanted, but refused to be a part of it. Then there was Datuk Shahruddin
Md Salleh, the Pakatan Harapan Deputy Minister of Federal Territories,
who was formerly a political secretary to Muhyiddin. He was appointed
Deputy Works Minister in the Perikatan Government but he decided on
his own first to resign his position as Deputy Minister, and secondly, to
join us in the cold—and as a result, he was expelled from Bersatu. It was
difficult to get more people on our side. Not one of the Perikatan Nasional
politicians have given up their positions.

We tried to fight back. On 8 March, Speaker of Parliament Tan Sri

Mohamad Ariff Yusof issued a statement accepting my motion for a vote
of no confidence to be tabled in the House with respect to Muhyiddin’s 247
backdoor government. It was not spelt out whether the motion would
be debated in the upcoming one-day sitting on 18 May, and in the same
statement, Mohamad Ariff also rejected a separate motion by me that
he remain as Speaker until the dissolution of Parliament. He also did
not allow a motion by Semporna MP and Sabah Chief Minister Datuk
Seri Shafie Apdal to determine if I had the confidence of Parliament.
Mohamad Ariff said that the motion was inconsistent with Article 43 of
the Federal Constitution, which provides the Agong powers to appoint as
Prime Minister “a member of the House of Representatives who in his
judgment is likely to command the confidence of the majority of members
of that House.”

I did not think my motion of no confidence against Muhyiddin would

succeed, especially after he began offering inducements to politicians in
return for support. In any case, Muhyiddin delayed the scheduled sitting of
Parliament by two months from 9 March to 18 May, using the COVID-19
pandemic as an excuse. Under Article 55 of the Constitution, no more
than six months may pass without Parliament being called, and this can
be avoided only by prorogation or a declaration of emergency (which
 CAPTURING

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eventually happened in early 2021). Despite these tactics, Muhyiddin’s

position remained unstable throughout 2020, and he had to continue
appeasing the different factions of his sometimes-on-sometimes-off
Perikatan Nasional coalition while fielding challenges from former allies.

The biggest challenge came from UMNO, which had suffered a rude shock
in the 2018 General Election and was now intent on clawing its way back
into power. No doubt inspired by Najib, UMNO and PAS had formed a
Malay-Muslim alliance known as Muafakat Nasional (National Concord)
on 14 September 2019. The Muafakat Nasional hoped to form a Malay-
Muslim Government but, ironically, the Perikatan Nasional coalition ended
up becoming totally dependent on non-Muslim MPs to stay in power. If
the non-Muslims from Azmin’s faction were to defect, the Malay-Muslim
Government would collapse. PAS President Hadi Awang and UMNO
President Dr Ahmad Zahid signed the Muafakat’s five-point charter whose
main aim, so they claimed, was to unite the Malaysian Muslim community
for electoral purposes. By early December, there were more Press reports
about the alliance: Zahid said at the UMNO General Assembly that the
alliance would be “formalised” in about six months. In July 2020, they
extended an invitation to Muhyiddin to join Muafakat Nasional, and on 15
248 August, Muhyiddin reaffirmed that he would. UMNO may have expected
a recovery of its political fortunes with this new arrangement with PAS but
the truth is that several of its top leaders are still on trial for corruption—
including Zahid and Najib. The party Treasurer, Datuk Seri Tengku Adnan
Tengku Mansor, was charged with accepting a RM1 million bribe in his
capacity as former Federal Territories Minister—he even had the audacity
to claim that RM2 million was like “pocket money” to him—and was
sentenced to 12 months’ jail with a fine of RM2 million (though he was
subsequently acquitted by a higher court).

So, to ensure Muhyiddin’s survival at the first parliamentary sitting on 18

May 2020, the only business allowed was the Agong’s Speech—with no
debate. Government officials said that the sitting had to be shortened to a
mere two hours to prevent the further spread of the coronavirus. I believe
that the bigger reason was that Muhyiddin wanted to avoid questions and
rejection by MPs. At the time, he hadn’t yet acquired enough MPs to stave
off a vote of no confidence directed at him. Muhyiddin’s situation became
worse when UMNO announced that there was “no formal agreement”
between itself and Bersatu to form the Perikatan Nasional. However,
UMNO had no choice but to sustain Muhyiddin’s Government because
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

its fall would result in UMNO being out of the Government again. So
far, staying with Muhyiddin has been the only way for UMNO to save
its leaders. It will be interesting to see how UMNO will compete against
Bersatu at the next general election.

The two-hour parliamentary session also meant that my motion of no

confidence against Muhyiddin could not be tabled. I was most unhappy
about this and wrote in my blog that democracy was dead. “The whole
world is laughing at Malaysia. The world labelled Malaysia as a kleptocracy
when Najib was the Prime Minister, and now the kleptocrats are back.”

If nothing else, that first parliamentary sitting showed that Muhyiddin

had the support of at least 114 MPs—but this was only two more than
the 112 needed to form a government. This exceedingly thin majority
explained the months of inactivity in all areas of government as MPs
were simply too nervous about political instability. In fact, if two or three
MPs switched from the Perikatan to the Pakatan Harapan, Muhyiddin’s
Government would fall. At the time, we believed that if we could expose
the wrongdoings of the Government, good sense would prevail and there
would be some from the Perikatan Nasional who would support the motion
of no confidence. As it turned out, good sense was almost impossible to 249
come by. Ten days later, on 27 May, I was expelled from Bersatu along
with four other MPs. The official reason given was that we had defied the
Prime Minister by crossing the floor of Parliament to sit on the Opposition
bench during the two-hour parliamentary session on 18 May. A letter from
the party appeared on social media, stating that we had violated the party’s
constitution. As far as we were concerned, however, the expulsion was
illegal, as it did not follow the party’s constitution. We went to court to
contest its validity. But the court upheld Muhyiddin’s decision. In a joint
statement, we said, “We do not accept these wrongful dismissals as they
are clearly against the law and strip away our right to act [...] not just for
ourselves but for all grassroots members of Bersatu.” I told the media that
where I sat in Parliament should not be a cause for dismissal. Despite
attempts to kick me out, the Bersatu membership rejected my resignation
and I was technically still party Chairman at the time, but the party was
already divided and anyone who opposed Muhyiddin would likewise be
expelled. On the other hand, those who supported him were given all kinds
of incentives as well as appointments that were materially attractive.
 CAPTURING

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If we had faced a general election then, the Pakatan Harapan would

probably have lost. The coalition was no longer working together and
Bersatu was divided. PKR, for example, would not have me anywhere
around. We tried to propose other names for the post of Prime Minister
but none were acceptable. On 10 July 2020, I announced that five MPs and
I had formed an independent bloc and would not join any coalition. We
also nominated Sabah Chief Minister Shafie Apdal as our candidate for
Prime Minister. His name had been suggested by Guan Eng on 25 June
during a meeting I had with leaders from Warisan, Amanah and the DAP.
“For our part, Shafie’s nomination as a candidate for Prime Minister is
a positive step that needs to be taken. Not only because we believe in his
ability to obtain majority support, but also because it is a step towards
improving relations between the Peninsula and Sabah and Sarawak,” we
said in a joint statement. We also proposed that Anwar and Mukhriz serve
as Deputy Prime Ministers. Unfortunately, four days earlier, the Pakatan
Harapan Presidential Council, comprising the top leadership of PKR,
Amanah and the DAP, had issued a statement reaffirming their support
for Anwar as the Pakatan’s candidate for Prime Minister. The Council
also gave Anwar “full mandate” to continue discussions with all parties,
including Shafie’s Warisan. As expected, this deadlock over the choice of
250 Prime Minister benefited Muhyiddin greatly.

Even though his Government remained unelected and unendorsed by

Parliament, Muhyiddin continued to break more rules and regulations. In
July, when Parliament had its first full sitting for the year, several things
happened. Together with five former Bersatu MPs, I again proposed a
motion seeking a vote of no confidence against Muhyiddin. To my surprise,
the motion was accepted—but it appeared very low on the Order Paper
(the printed parliamentary agenda) at item 27. The rule is that government
business must always take precedence, but this can be manipulated so that
government matters are discussed until the end of the session, leaving
no time for other motions. Another important development was the
replacement of the Speaker, Mohamad Ariff, and Deputy Speaker Nga Kor
Ming. These motions were tabled by Muhyiddin himself, and were listed
as items 3 and 5 on the Order Paper. There was no valid reason to remove
the Speaker and his deputy but Muhyiddin needed to be absolutely certain
that he would not face a no-confidence vote in the House. One news report
said, “The chamber descended into uproar with heckling from both sides
during the debate on his motion” but unfortunately, when it was put to a
vote, Muhyiddin narrowly won, allowing him to appoint former Election
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Commission Chairman Datuk Azhar Azizan Harun as Speaker and Datuk

Seri Azalina Othman Said as Deputy Speaker. As far as I was concerned,
the removal of the Speaker and his deputy contravened parliamentary
procedure. This compelled me to lodge a formal complaint—I believe one
of the reasons Muhyiddin sought to remove Mohamad Ariff was because
he had listed my motion on the Order Paper, but once again, by changing
the Speaker and placing my motion low on the agenda, Muhyiddin was
able to circumvent an embarrassing rejection by the MPs.

In the weeks and months that followed, there were many troubling
developments but the media were not allowed to report anything I said
unless it was something harmless. Anything that was detrimental to or
critical of the Government did not make it into the news; even my face
hardly appeared in the local media. I had asked a person who knew me well
to work with the Government’s media conglomerate, Media Prima, but the
authorities had him removed and, instead, he was given a job where he
was not required to write or report anything. The implied threat here was
that if you didn’t do as instructed, something bad would happen to you.
And we knew that the Government was in a position to cancel business
and broadcasting licences. We also found that Muhyiddin’s Government
only allowed those who supported it to have a voice. Those who didn’t 251
were removed, demoted and deprived of support. There was the case of
Syed Saddiq Syed Abdul Rahman, the former head of Armada (Bersatu’s
youth wing) and Youth and Sports Minister in the Pakatan Government.
When he reported the loss of RM250,000 from his safe, he ended up being
the target of the police investigation. Every now and then, he would be
called in by the Malaysian Anti-Corruption Commission and sometimes
detained for a long period of time. Other members of Armada were also
questioned and some were detained, sometimes for hours. What about the
people who actually stole the money? Well, the people being “investigated”
were those who were not on Muhyiddin’s side, while those who did support
him received special treatment. For example, if a Bersatu division leader
was not supportive, he would be removed and his deputy would take his
place. If the deputy was also not supportive of Muhyiddin, both would be
removed, and new people would be appointed. All this went against the
rules and constitution. For example, when dismissing a person, the party
constitution says that the President must consult the Chairman, which
was me. But there was no consultation at all. Muhyiddin would remove
whoever he wanted and without reason. When it came time to remove
me, he simply said, “He is no longer the Chairman.” Then he appointed
 CAPTURING

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himself Chairman before abolishing the position outright. And, of course,

he’s still the President of Bersatu today.

In the early days of the backdoor government, the foreign media described
Muhyiddin as an unassuming career politician who was ejected by Najib
from UMNO in 2016. They have never, as far as I know, considered him
a political heavyweight. I do not even recall his position on central policy
matters. What I do remember is making the decision to pull him out of
Johor, where he was Menteri Besar for nine years from 1986 to 1995, and
bringing him into the Federal Government. From time to time, the Press
would unearth things like the fact that he considers himself a “Malay
first”, and presumably a Malaysian second. He was dead against some
ideas such as the teaching of maths and science in English, but I never
raised these matters with him as I did not think they were disagreements
worth confronting each other about. We were in the same party. However,
his desire to become Prime Minister was unknown to me. Obviously, he
had this ambition and I can understand his feelings. He was Deputy Prime
Minister under Najib, but in the Pakatan Harapan Government, he was
Minister of Home Affairs. And if Anwar had succeeded me as Prime
Minister, Muhyiddin would probably have been Deputy Prime Minister
252 at best, or perhaps not even that. I suppose this must have affected his
thinking, but when we formed the Pakatan Government, he was openly
supportive of me and deferred to my decisions. It was only when I showed
a disinclination to take up his proposal to abandon the Pakatan Harapan
and lead a new Government that he said he would do the job instead.
I did not understand this, so I asked him, “Do you really want to work
with Najib?” Muhyiddin had been so opposed to UMNO that it seemed
outrageous that he was now willing to work with them. He said principles
were irrelevant. The most important thing was politics, he said, and politics
meant that we had to join Najib in setting up a Malay-Muslim Government.
For him there was no place for the DAP. Yet, I’ve been told that he sought
the DAP’s support several times before and during the time the Pakatan
Harapan was in power.

Oddly enough, as soon as Muhyiddin was appointed Prime Minister, he

told the Press that he did not actually want the job, but he had been “forced
to offer himself ” for the sake of the country. He said he had initially
nominated me, but both Anwar and I had failed to command majority
support in Parliament. Well, as I look back on his political career, I think
this was probably the only way for him to rise to the top. Under Najib, that
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

opportunity did not present itself—and ultimately, Najib kicked him out of
UMNO. When Bersatu was formed, he would often say, “I don’t want to
become Prime Minister. I’m not well; I’m sick.” In fact, he would repeat
this at every meeting we had, even when no one asked.

Soon after he became Prime Minister, I was asked whether Muhyiddin had
the stamina and ability to handle the job. I have tried not to comment on the
Government but the demands of the job are gruelling, and, at the very least,
you must be able to last through two long meetings each day. Government
officers provide very detailed briefings, and the political leadership must
stay constantly focused in order to understand the issues, what more
during difficult times. The Prime Minister must have some idea of how to
overcome the major problems facing the country—the public health crisis,
the economy, the dwindling investments, the high levels of debt, the ongoing
development of public infrastructure and services—there is a great deal to
juggle, and the Government can ill afford to drop a single ball.

When we started experiencing the full force of the COVID-19 pandemic,

I was also asked to set aside our differences and work with him as Prime
Minister. Even foreign correspondents suggested this to me. But how could
I work with a man who was willing to throw away his principles for the 253
sake of politics? Besides, if I had worked with him, I would have had to
deal with the likes of Najib, Zahid Hamidi, Tengku Adnan Tengku Mansor
and Datuk Seri Abdul Azeez Abdul Rahim. All these people are crooks.
No, I was not going to help them. They destroyed my party.

Malu apa, bossku?

Muhyiddin’s saving grace was his promise to not stop the charges being
directed against Najib, Zahid and the rest. So when the High Court on 28
July found Najib guilty of all seven charges of abuse of power, criminal
breach of trust and money laundering in relation to the RM42 million
belonging to SRC International Sdn Bhd, it came as a surprise to many,
including Najib himself. His lead counsel Tan Sri Muhammad Shafee
Abdullah told reporters that his client was expecting to be acquitted of
all seven charges. I, too, did not expect such an outcome, but having been
found guilty, he was seemingly treated very leniently. He should have
been sentenced to 57 years in prison, but the court reduced it to 12 years.
He then asked for bail at RM1 million and it was approved. Today, he
remains free as he awaits the outcome of his appeal against the verdict. The
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Attorney-General’s Chambers has also appealed the decision. Perhaps in

their assessment the jail term was too short and they are seeking a longer
term for Najib.

In Malaysia, whenever a person is charged—not even convicted—he or she

is sometimes made to wear a bright orange jumpsuit as if they were already
jailed. This happened to Matthias Chang, my former political secretary. It
also happened to Datuk Seri Khairuddin Abu Hassan, a former UMNO
division leader who lodged reports with five foreign authorities about
irregularities in 1Malaysia Development Berhad. They were both eventually
found not guilty but they were arrested, forced to wear the orange jumpsuit
and detained in jail. Shafie Apdal, when he was leading his party Warisan
in the campaign against the state Barisan Nasional government headed
by Tan Sri Musa Aman, was jailed for eight days on charges of money
laundering and had to sleep on the floor next to the toilet. In the end he
was not charged. By comparison, Najib was almost treated like a prince.
He was free to go anywhere he wanted, wear anything and say anything.
He was still free to say the judgment was wrong. He is appealing against
his conviction and the process will take six months before it is heard in the
Court of Appeal, and after that he can appeal to the Federal Court, which
254 might take another six months or a year. So, three and a half years after
he lost the election and was charged in court, he’s still not being punished
at all. In the meantime, he seems to be quite successful at persuading
people that although he is a thief, he is still their leader and therefore he’s
all right. His supporters proclaim, “Malu apa, bossku?” Well, he’s a thief
who is facing another 35 counts of corruption, abuse of power and money
laundering in four more court cases, all related to his role in 1MDB. He
and his supporters should feel ashamed. But they insist they are not.

My view is that Najib worked out the whole “Malay-Muslim Government”

idea for the purpose of reversing the results of the election so that he would
be on the government side. In the past, this enabled him to manipulate
even legal proceedings—he had tried to retain two very senior judges past
the mandatory retirement age because they had made decisions favourable
to him. This is the kind of thing Najib was familiar with; so, he and
other UMNO members may have thought that now that they were back
in the Government, they would be able to have the charges against them
dropped. In the case of Riza Aziz, Najib’s stepson, the judgment against
him was very lenient. “Plea bargaining” is an alien concept in Malaysian
law, but it suddenly came up in Riza’s case where on 14 May he was
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

discharged from five counts of laundering over USD248 million allegedly

misappropriated from 1MDB. In return, Riza was to return USD108
million to the Government—which was only about 43 per cent of the sum
he was alleged to have stolen. Eight former Presidents of the Malaysian Bar
issued a statement calling the entire affair into question: “The repatriation
of ill-gotten gains simpliciter, and payment of a relatively insignificant
compound by an accused person, from the proceeds from serious criminal
offences, in exchange for the withdrawal of an on-going prosecution against
him, is unusual and difficult to sustain in principle. Without more, it lends
itself to the perception that an accused person can be exonerated of serious
crimes if he is willing to pay back part of the illicit proceeds of his alleged
crimes,” they wrote in The Edge on 28 May 2020.

Then there was the case against former Sabah Chief Minister Musa Aman.
There were 46 corruption and money-laundering charges against him but
he was effectively acquitted of them when the prosecution simply decided
to withdraw the charges in June 2020. In this light, Najib’s conviction was
unfortunate for Muhyiddin as it added to UMNO’s unhappiness about
him and the Perikatan Nasional Government. Dr Ahmad Zahid Hamidi,
who was among the thousands who went to the High Court to hear Najib’s
verdict, said, “On behalf of UMNO, we accept the court’s decision against 255
Najib. But as a friend, I feel sympathetic and very saddened by the decision
made by the court.” Zahid then informed reporters that his party would be
working on “something” to make a political decision with respect to the
outcome of the trial. I think it must have suddenly struck Zahid and others
that they too could end up like Najib, and they didn’t like that at all. It was
therefore imperative that they put pressure on Muhyiddin to ensure that
they would not be found guilty.

To be sure, Najib, Zahid and the rest were very angry with Muhyiddin.
They thought that when he formed the Government, they would be able
to return to power, unscathed. After all, they hadn’t been convicted yet.
They may well say that until they are convicted, they remain innocent. So
why doesn’t Muhyiddin direct the Attorney-General to drop the charges
against them? This has placed Muhyiddin in a bind—he had made a
promise not to stop the prosecutions, but this meant that he would lose
UMNO support. But if he had indeed ordered a halt to the prosecutions,
he would also be in deep trouble with the public. People would want to
know why he was obstructing the due process of law. After Najib’s verdict,
there were political observers who said that Muhyiddin could have used
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Najib’s conviction as an opportunity to bolster his slim majority by calling

for snap elections. They said that he had demonstrated his commitment to
pursue graft cases, even against his own allies in the Perikatan Nasional,
and more Malaysians might find the backdoor Government palatable.
While this might have been the case, if six more UMNO MPs were found
guilty, Muhyiddin would have lost his parliamentary majority. For many
months, he clung to his majority by a hair’s breadth of just two or three
seats. This was why, from the start, he was manoeuvring to get enough
people to cross over to replace the UMNO people who might be found
guilty. I believe that this was his long-term strategy, and he did have the
opportunity because convictions take time. And even if they are found
guilty, these chaps still attend Parliament as they are still MPs until they
exhaust the appeals process.

So, two days after Najib’s verdict, Zahid reaffirmed his party’s earlier
decision not to join the Perikatan Nasional even if the coalition was
registered formally. Instead, he said that UMNO would give priority to
the Muafakat Nasional, but this decision did not mean that UMNO was
withdrawing support from the Government. Rather, UMNO’s support
was “based on the support of Barisan MPs in the Federal Government
256 and several state governments.” What twisted logic was this? Muhyiddin
had apparently met Barisan MPs the day before and expressed a desire
for Bersatu to join Muafakat Nasional. With the entry of Bersatu, its
total seats would be 88. So, this was Zahid’s dilemma: if he punished
Muhyiddin by pulling out, he himself would fall and would no longer be
in the Government. So, it was a lethal double-edged sword.

I also observed PAS’ reaction to Najib’s conviction in the SRC case. I could
understand UMNO coming out very strongly in support of Najib, but Hadi
Awang and senior PAS leaders also rushed to show Najib their support,
despite the fact that he had been convicted by a legally constituted court
of law, and despite the fact that PAS had long claimed quite loudly to be
committed to morality and religion. To me, it looked as if PAS had been
hedging: they wanted to be on the winning side but they didn’t know which
side was going to win. They also tried to be very friendly with me—Hadi
himself visited me at my office and home in 2019 and 2020. He sought
my advice and we’ve had many amicable discussions on various topics.
In fact, PAS politicians are friendly with a lot of people. As far as I see
it, the religion is only a label for the Islamist party, and what they have
been doing so far does not seem to be in accord with the teachings of the
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

religion. They used to say that UMNO members were “kafir” (unbelievers)
because any Muslim who worked with a non-Muslim would eventually
cease to be Muslim. But now, they are working with the very people whom
they declared kafir. They seem to draw their support from those who are
hoodwinked easily—that is, there are people who see a man wearing a
jubah and turban, quoting something in Arabic, and are so impressed that
they would support him without question.

The whole idea of a “Malay-Muslim Government” is also a sham. The

reality is that you cannot have such a government in Malaysia. You must
take into consideration that more than 30 per cent of Malaysians are not
Muslim. They are found in almost all the constituencies. In some, they
dominate. As the Malays are divided into many parties, it is the Chinese and
Indian minorities who can determine who will be the winner. No Malay
party can win enough votes to form a government by itself. They need
Chinese and Indian MPs to achieve the majority to form a government.
So, since independence the Governments of Malaysia have always been
multiracial and multireligious. Indeed, when the backdoor Government
was formed it was not a Malay-Muslim Government at all. It saddens me
to see how easily some Malays are taken for a ride.
257

The fall of Sabah

In late September 2020, Muhyiddin’s seven-month backdoor Government
decided to overthrow the Warisan government of Sabah, which had won
the state election in 2018. For this, the Minister of Home Affairs, Hamzah
Zainudin, was sent to Sabah to subvert the supporters of Warisan there.
Large sums of money were used to buy support, and soon 13 Warisan
state assemblymen crossed over to the other side. If two more had left
Warisan, the Government would have fallen. But Chief Minister Shafie
Apdal decided to dissolve the government and call an election. He wanted
the people to decide who should govern. Unfortunately, Warisan lost. It is
believed that the voters were heavily bribed. There was also a struggle for
the post of Chief Minister between UMNO and Bersatu and in the end the
post went to the latter.

Initially, I had plans to fly to Sabah to help campaign for Warisan. I

was hoping voters would reject the assemblymen who defected from the
Warisan-led state government. I was still angry that the backdoor Federal
Government was again trying to take over Sabah the way they did the
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Federal Government. As far as I was concerned, the state elections were

undemocratic as Sabahans had legitimately chosen a government in the
2018 General Election. “But the Federal Government led by the Perikatan
Nasional wants to steal Sabahans’ choice,” I said in a video message a week
before polling day. “The Prime Minister says he loves Sabah. If he loves
Sabah, then don’t try to seize the (state) government.” More importantly,
I withdrew from campaigning in Sabah because I was very certain that
election activities would worsen the spread of COVID-19 in the state. I felt
strongly that the Federal Government should help the state government
battle the pandemic and boost the faltering economy, “but because the state
is facing an election, the Warisan-led government has to channel funds into
focusing on the polls instead of helping those who have lost their jobs and
don’t have enough food to eat,” I said in the video.

After all the votes were counted, Gabungan Rakyat Sabah (GRS)—an
alliance of both Muhyiddin’s allies and the state Barisan Nasional—won.
Warisan and its allies under Shafie took 32 seats while independents took
three seats. When the results were announced, one of the three independents
joined GRS, giving it a total of 39 seats. Prior to polling day, most analysts
gave Warisan the lead and expected it to win between 40 and 45 seats. But
258 the fact that it took three days before Datuk Seri Panglima Hajiji Noor from
Bersatu was sworn in as Chief Minister indicated that a lot of horse-trading
had taken place. Predictably, the state elections deepened the wedge between
Muhyiddin and UMNO. Muhyiddin’s allies in GRS won 17 seats while the
Barisan managed just 14, and this was said to be the reason why Bersatu’s
Hajiji was appointed Chief Minister and not UMNO’s Datuk Seri Bung
Moktar Radin. Indeed, I was informed that the Perikatan Nasional was busily
buying assemblymen to gain support. A whole team of them went to Sabah,
trying to pull down the Warisan government even before the election. They
were offering—I don’t know how true this is—as much as RM20 million for
members of the state assembly to stop supporting Warisan.

Sabah wasn’t Muhyiddin’s only headache at the time. Six days before
Sabahans went to the polls, he was confronted by another challenge:
Anwar announced that he had garnered a “strong, formidable, convincing
majority” of MPs to form a new Federal Government. In a Press conference,
the PKR President said that, as such, Muhyiddin’s Government had fallen.
Luckily for Muhyiddin, the Agong had been admitted to the National
Heart Institute a day earlier or else Anwar would have had an audience
with the Agong to present the details of his claim. Anwar did not reveal the
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

names to the Press but he said he had close to a two-thirds parliamentary

majority. “Not four, five or six [...] I’m talking about much more than that,”
he told the Press. When he was asked whether his backers included those
facing charges of corruption, he spoke about an “inclusive” government,
but anyone joining it would have to respect due legal process. “There is no
political vendetta against anyone,” he said. “But as I have already made
it abundantly clear we are committed to institutional reform, judicial
independence and the rule of law, there is no issue of cutting deals.”

Muhyiddin responded by saying that Anwar had to prove his claim of

possessing a parliamentary majority through the processes provided under
the Federal Constitution. “Without going through that process, Datuk
Seri Anwar’s statement is just a mere claim. Until proven otherwise, the
Perikatan Nasional Government still stands strong and I am the rightful
Prime Minister,” Muhyiddin said—all of which was most amusing to me.
This was not the first time that Anwar had made such claims. In 2008,
six months after the general election in March, Anwar declared that on
16 September he would have enough support from MPs to become Prime
Minister. His pledge failed to materialise, and Tun Abdullah Ahmad
Badawi stayed on as Prime Minister. Now, 12 years later, Anwar was at it
again. He told the Press that his Government would be stronger than the 259
Perikatan Nasional Government headed by Muhyiddin, which had a two-
seat majority. When reporters asked me for my opinion, I said, “We will
have to wait to see if this is another episode of making claims that cannot
be substantiated.”

In a parallel development, the political scene became more topsy-turvy

when Zahid, as Barisan Nasional Chairman, said on 23 September that
a large chunk of UMNO and Barisan MPs had voiced their support for
Anwar to form a new Government. Zahid said he respected the decision
made by his own MPs to leave the political pact he was helming and jump to
the other side. He clarified yet again that support for the Perikatan Nasional
was only extended by individual Barisan MPs. The Barisan Nasional, as
an entity, had no part in the loose Perikatan Nasional coalition. “UMNO
and Barisan Nasional are unable to stop our MPs from making their own
decision to support Anwar, who wishes to meet the Yang di-Pertuan
Agong to air his desire (to form a new government).” Political observers
explained this strange development as an expression of Zahid’s impatience
and frustration with Muhyiddin and Azmin Ali. Finally, on 13 October,
Anwar met the Agong to present his claim of a parliamentary majority, but
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the Palace later pointed out that the Opposition leader did not produce a
list of names of those backing him.

The 2021 Budget blunder

Meanwhile, the number of nationwide COVID-19 infections shot up after
the Sabah elections, forcing the Government to react, which they did in a
confusing and sometimes contradictory manner. The public was quick to
notice double standards, as some Perikatan Nasional politicians showed
off how selfish and careless they could be. The Government seemed not
to take the pandemic seriously, announcing lockdown after lockdown, and
then exception after exception, and always letting their own politicians
off the hook if they were discovered to have flouted their own rules. It
therefore came as a great surprise when Muhyiddin tried to push through
a declaration of emergency. His reasons were pandemic-related, but we
were fully aware that Budget Day was around the corner and he had ample
reason to worry about this—especially if the Pakatan Harapan and my
group worked together to vote down the Budget. At the time, the Agong,
backed by the Conference of Rulers, felt that there was no necessity to
use the Emergency Ordinance to contain the COVID-19 pandemic. The
260
Agong said that Malaysia had successfully and effectively contained the
pandemic so far and that he saw no reason why a state of emergency was
needed anywhere in the country. He also called for a halt to the politicking
and demanded a united and bipartisan approach to problem-solving. This
was the very first time a constitutional monarch in Malaysia had rejected
the advice of the Prime Minister. The Agong’s decision was met with
resounding support from the rakyat. In newspapers, over radio, across
social media platforms, it seemed as if “Abah” (father)—a term Muhyiddin
called himself when he became Prime Minister—was forced to deal with
the sting of rejection, the loss of credibility and a government that was still
inherently unstable.

The Agong also urged MPs to fully support the Budget, saying it was
crucial for the nation to combat the impact of COVID-19. He made this
call after he rejected Muhyiddin’s request for an emergency, which would
have allowed the Budget to be passed without going through the democratic
process in Parliament. The message from the Agong may have placed MPs
in a dilemma: while many of them did not want the Perikatan Nasional
Government to continue, lawmakers may also have wanted to avoid blame
and responsibility for the ensuing leadership crisis should Muhyiddin be
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

forced to step down. The Supply Bill needed at the very least 112 votes—a
simple majority— to pass, and this was all the Perikatan had at the time
following the death of Gerik MP Datuk Hasbullah Osman. If a single
Perikatan MP were to be absent, Muhyiddin’s eight-month Government
would fall.

In the event, Muhyiddin tabled the Budget on 6 November 2020. Until the
very last minute, we did not know how individual MPs would vote. Different
political parties and factions were using the Budget vote to make political
demands or to try to unseat Muhyiddin—by then, over 20 motions of no
confidence had been filed against him. MPs zeroed in on the RM85.5 million
allocated for the Special Affairs Department (Jabatan Hal Ehwal Khas or
JASA), which is a propaganda unit used by the previous Barisan Nasional,
which we abolished under the Pakatan Government. The Opposition now
used this revival to criticise the Government’s efforts to mitigate COVID-19,
saying that the funds for JASA would merely help Perikatan gain political
support for the next general election. There were other concerns as well: at
one point during the debate, Finance Minister Tengku Datuk Seri Utama
Zafrul Tengku Abdul Aziz said that the allocations for salaries, pensions
and allowances for civil servants and frontliners would be at stake should the
RM322.5 billion Supply Bill fail. This was no doubt a strategy to intimidate 261
MPs into supporting the Bill. I criticised Muhyiddin’s administration for not
taking the COVID-19 issue seriously, and said that the Government set only
one per cent of the total Budget towards fighting the pandemic but allocated
huge sums for other expenses, including the upgrading of government
departments and ministerial offices. For example, the allocation for the
Prime Minister’s Office was four times larger than the funds for dealing
with the COVID-19 pandemic.

However, all this was nothing compared to what Anwar did, or rather,
didn’t do. His supporters insisted that it was a tactical move but I thought
otherwise. Instead of galvanising the Opposition into rejecting the Budget,
Anwar, at the very last minute, directed all Opposition MPs to allow
the Budget to pass. As a result, the Supply Bill passed with almost no
contention at the policy stage, which is when MPs decide whether they
agree with the main purpose of the Bill. Only 13 MPs (including myself)
stood against the Bill when the vote was called. With that, the Opposition
effectively endorsed the Perikatan Nasional’s legitimacy. Although Anwar
said MPs could still challenge the Budget at the committee stage, I knew
nothing would come out of it. Technically, a rejection at the committee
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level would not carry the same weight as a vote during the policy stage.
This is because in principle, the Budget has already been approved. At
the committee level, debates are expected only to fine-tune and scrutinise
the details as applied to each and every Ministry. Therefore, opposing the
Budget at the committee stage would create no significant impact. I felt
that Anwar’s justifications were a prevarication to deflect the criticism of
Malaysians who were now baffled and disappointed with him.

In no time, Anwar’s “bizarre” directive was discussed in the media. “He

purposely did not seize the golden opportunity for a down-vote that could
easily serve as a proxy to dismiss the support and legitimacy of the Prime
Minister and the Government,” said one analyst. “Whether Thursday was
a tactical move or a communications error, only Anwar and the Pakatan
Harapan leadership will truly know,” said a political risk consultant. “What
is clear is that while the Perikatan Nasional Government’s advantage in
Parliament hangs by a thread, the Opposition is in disarray and disunited.
Anwar has to consolidate his support base and plan his next move
carefully,” he added.

In a statement explaining the decision, Anwar conceded that the move

262 was sudden and unpopular but he stressed that it was politically crucial.
Voting against the Budget, Anwar argued, would have put the Pakatan
Harapan in a bad light. He said that he did not want to be seen as blocking
aid and concessions announced by the Government. I found his reasoning
to be perplexing as it simply highlighted the Opposition’s willingness to
compromise by throwing out its principles and placing their own interests
above that of the people’s. I was very frustrated, and I used my blog to
chastise Anwar and other Opposition MPs for allowing the Budget to
pass and breaking their promises to the people. In the final analysis, the
Budget debate showed that Muhyiddin enjoyed the support not only of
Government MPs but also most of the Opposition. I could not understand
this. For as long as the Perikatan Government has been in existence, the
Opposition has been trying to bring it down with votes of no confidence in
Parliament. As I mentioned, no fewer than 20 motions of no confidence
had been submitted against Muhyiddin. Yet, when the Budget was tabled,
the Opposition supported it. I do not know if various “sweets” had been
offered to secure support. If this is true, then corruption has reached a
very dangerous level in the country. I sometimes despair that everything
can be bought with money, including the Government. The people’s
democratically elected government can be bought and overthrown because
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

elected representatives are willing to accept bribes, as we saw in the early

days after the Sheraton Move and then in Sabah. A government not elected
by the people can seize power and continue to rule the state and country.

On 15 December, the Perikatan Nasional’s Budget 2021 was passed 111-

108 in its third reading in the Dewan Rakyat. I and my allies in the House
rejected it. This was because we did not see any long-term approach to
address the healthcare and economic challenges posed by the COVID-19
pandemic. Instead, what the Budget promised was more money to win the
hearts and minds of the people, but it was not stated anywhere how the
Government would find the revenue to fund all this.

After the Budget debacle, there was much talk about a “growing
disenchantment in Anwar’s ability” and a “growing sense of doubt about
Anwar’s political strength.” One newspaper reported that he pleaded with
allies to give him “one more week” to prove he had the necessary numbers
to form a government, having failed to challenge Budget 2021. He was said
to have offered his resignation as Pakatan Harapan chief should he fail
to produce those numbers. One analyst commented: “It’s quite clear that
(Anwar’s) recent move to pull down the Government amid the COVID-19
crisis and Sabah elections has turned out to be a straw man. He just doesn’t 263
have the numbers. Or if he did have the numbers, the numbers have
abandoned him.” Anwar may have failed in his attempt to become Prime
Minister again but he is not likely to give up.

In January 2021, Muhyiddin successfully persuaded the Agong to declare

an emergency, again using the pandemic as the reason. This allowed
his government to continue operating with full access to the Budget and
without even parliamentary oversight. This is one of the results of Anwar’s
failure to act decisively during the Budget vote.

My friend Anwar
Anwar and I go back a long way. His father Ibrahim Abdul Rahman and
I worked in the same hospital in Penang where he was a hospital assistant
when I was doing my housemanship. In 1964, Ibrahim and I became MPs
at the same time, and I was well disposed towards Anwar. I wanted to help
him in whatever way I could but he was a bit of a rabble-rouser from the
early 1970s. In 1974, he instigated student protests against rural poverty and
hunger. When I became Minister of Education, he organised students in a
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demonstration against the Government but when in 1982 he expressed a

desire to join UMNO, I accepted him. Other UMNO party leaders objected
vehemently. They clearly didn’t want him but I saw in him an enthusiasm
to serve the people, which I admired. From one post to the next, he moved
up the ranks until he became Deputy Prime Minister. I doubt that anyone
else would have welcomed and trusted an anti-government rebel the way
I did Anwar.

Initially we got on very well. But after several years when it didn’t look as
if I would be retiring anytime soon, his “boys”—and this would happen
again and again—began to attack me. They talked openly, and sometimes
aggressively, about cronyism, nepotism and other abuses of power by me.
When I finally investigated their claims, I published the names of everyone
who received government contracts. Many of these people were connected
to Anwar, not me. Unfortunately for him, at every party election or general
election, I seemed to get stronger, so the only way to bring me down was to
get his boys to demonise me.

However, he was my deputy. I brought him into the party, so I stood by him.
As I mentioned in A Doctor in the House, I even stood by him when the former
264 Inspector-General of Police Tun Hanif Omar came to me with evidence
about Anwar’s questionable conduct. That has long been resolved—albeit
painfully for him and his family. But even years later, whenever I walked
into a bookstore anywhere in the world, I would invariably head towards
the section on Malaysia, and to my annoyance, every book on Malaysian
politics would include the allegation that I was a malevolent leader who
had sacked his liberal and progressive deputy.

I’ve often been asked whether Anwar would make a good Prime Minister. In
May 1997, while I took a two-month break, he took charge of the country.
He was Finance Minister then and, in my absence, he also assumed all
the Prime Minister’s duties. To my disappointment, he spent more time
gathering political support and politicking than he did managing the
administrative work required of a Prime Minister. Then, when the 1998
financial crisis fell upon us, he wanted to swallow the “bitter pill” approach
recommended by International Monetary Fund chief Michel Camdessus.
I said to him, “Look, Anwar, if you do that, the country will not have
enough money to even pay the civil servants’ salaries.” But he continued
to support the views of Camdessus as well as James D. Wolfensohn of
the World Bank. Fearing an economic meltdown, I took over the financial
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

management of the country. I also had to come up with a solution to

protect the country from total financial ruin. We recovered but I am not
sure that Anwar could have found a better solution.

In early 2015, as he was making a comeback to public life, Anwar was

again put in jail for sodomy—but this time, it seemed clear that he was
unfairly treated and that there was a political agenda behind his conviction.
When he was finally released and given a full pardon from the Agong in
May 2020, Anwar then busied himself with meeting influential people,
including rulers and foreign leaders. I suppose he needed to explain his
situation. Off and on, he would drop by my office for a chat. He never
talked about taking over from me or about my policies. What he did raise
with me was the need for reform. I wasn’t sure what he meant by this as
we embarked on a number of reforms as soon as the Pakatan Harapan
Government was set up. One such reform involved giving more power
to Parliament instead of the Prime Minister, and another reform was to
limit the Prime Minister to two terms in office. All this and more had been
done, but he never referred to any of these changes. Instead, he expressed
his support and gave me his perspective on what was happening in the
Government and in local politics.
265
As it should be, all policies are thoroughly discussed in the Cabinet. At the
time, our priority was to find ways to reduce the disparities between state
and state, region and region, as well as among the races. There was, for
example, our vision for shared prosperity, which I’ve talked about in this
book and which we were planning to roll out in 2020—Anwar could have
asked me about all this but he never did. Yet I’ve been criticised for not
including him in the things we were doing. His party had six representatives
involved in all the discussions and decisions made in Cabinet. Surely
they could have briefed him, just as other Cabinet Ministers should brief
their parties on Cabinet decisions, especially those affecting their parties.
Muhyiddin should have informed Bersatu members, and the DAP, Amanah
and Warisan representatives in Cabinet would have briefed their respective
party members. That’s how it works. Besides, I kept the public abreast of
what the Government was doing, so he should have known what was going
on. I was not under any obligation to brief Anwar but if he had shown
some interest and wanted to know more, I would have gladly obliged.

It didn’t take long for his boys to start attacking me again. When asked,
he would say, “I can’t control them.” He denied asking them to pressure
 CAPTURING

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me to step down. He said they had decided to campaign for me to resign,

so that he, Anwar, could take over. Another question that repeatedly came
up was why the succession was never discussed in the Pakatan Harapan
Presidential Council. My answer has been and will always be the same:
Why was there a need to do this? It was always assumed that Anwar would
take over from me—with Parliament’s endorsement, of course. In fact,
succession was not discussed in the Pakatan Harapan Presidential Council
because we didn’t expect the party to lose its position. We thought that we
would be there until the next general election. I also did not announce a
handover date because I wanted to sort out the incredible mess left behind
by Najib. When I was pushed to give a date nonetheless, I said I would
step down after the APEC Summit in November 2020. This would not
have pleased Anwar and his supporters but I sincerely thought it would
give me a little more time to resolve some of our bigger problems. Apart
from finding the money to pay our debts and government salaries—which
had doubled from when I last helmed the Government—I wanted to find
new ways to revive the economy. The nation’s survival was at stake, and I
strongly believed that we should put aside party politics for just a very short
time to focus on restoring our country to health. Giving priority to party
politics is not always good for the administration. Managing a country
266 requires unpopular decisions and actions that may not be welcomed by a
politician. In fact, to be loved by the people, you could end up doing things
that might not be good for the country at all.

When Anwar left UMNO in 1998, he turned to non-Malays for support.

This was when he started talking about multiracialism and racism.
Whatever his intention was, he told them what they wanted to hear: that
giving privileges to the Malays was wrong and that all citizens should
be treated equally. Meritocracy, as such, would enable the best people to
benefit from such a policy. His approach was very different from mine.
I have always wanted to ensure that Malays and other Bumiputera have
their share of the wealth of this country. This is not racist. Even our first
Prime Minister, Tunku Abdul Rahman, came up with a formula for the
representation of all races in politics through the setting-up of race-based
parties and forming a coalition in which all races would be represented. In
1988, when Tengku Razaleigh tried to replace me, he formed Semangat
46—a Malay party—with the same formula of wanting to work with the
Chinese and Indian parties in a coalition of sorts. But when Anwar was
thrown out of UMNO, he decided that he would form Parti Keadilan
Rakyat (PKR) as a multiracial party, which is acceptable only if the leader
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

is a Malay. Since then, all parties have had to be multiracial or else they
would be accused of racism. UMNO and PAS are the only parties that
have managed to retain their Malay identity as they began that way, while
new parties focusing on a single race have been declared racist.

I was roundly condemned for forming Bersatu as a Malay-Bumiputera

party, but I had no choice. The Malays need strong representation and
we wanted a replacement for UMNO and PAS. UMNO had reneged on
its promise to serve the Malays and is now mired in corruption, and PAS’
current leadership is also compromised by issues of corruption. I wanted
to build a political party dedicated to helping Malays get their share of
the wealth of the nation. This had to be done not at the expense of the
other races, nor should it result in stifling the development of the country.
The country is wealthy enough for this to be achieved. Only a Malay
party can give the Malays the attention needed, but Bersatu reneged on its
promise. And so, I set up Parti Pejuang Tanah Air in August 2020. Pejuang
upholds the same original objectives that Bersatu once did, which is to
fight for the share of the wealth, position and rights of the Malays. Besides,
Pejuang is totally dedicated to the fight against corruption. We know that
corruption will destroy Malaysia, but the Malays, being poor, are much
more susceptible to bribery and corruption. The damage the Malays will 267
suffer from corruption would be earlier and greater. It will undermine the
efforts to give them a fair share of the wealth of the nation.

As of early 2021, Muhyiddin’s Bersatu was still looking for more members
to bolster its meagre numbers. Based on Press reports in April 2021, its
current count of 31 MPs includes post-election UMNO defectors and a
group of former PKR MPs led by Datuk Seri Azmin Ali. I first knew of
Azmin’s desire to leave PKR a while ago. He had asked to join Bersatu but
our party constitution did not allow us to accommodate his non-Malay
colleagues. At the time, he was already noticeably absent from PKR, but I
urged him to attend his own party’s meetings as I didn’t see how he could
remain in the Pakatan Harapan if he was no longer with PKR. There was
much talk then that I was building up Azmin’s image and position in the
Government. He was, in fact, given a very senior Cabinet portfolio and
many interpreted this as my attempt to replace Anwar with him. There
were in fact several people whom I thought could become Prime Minister
one day—but this was not in reference to Anwar. I knew I wasn’t going to
be Prime Minister for much longer, and Anwar too, at some future date,
would need to hand the reins to someone else. We needed to think about
 CAPTURING

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continuity in much longer terms than just Anwar’s succession, and we

needed to find individuals with strong leadership qualities. In my mind,
Azmin was one of these individuals as he seemed to have done well as
Menteri Besar of Selangor.

So, all things considered, Anwar is definitely not the only one thinking
about becoming Prime Minister. And lest we forget, there is also Najib,
who is also looking for ways to return to power. The reasons should be
obvious: position, money, more power. In Najib’s case, it would also mean
that his slate would be wiped clean.

So yes, I have reasons to be displeased with Anwar but what Najib has
done to my country is much worse. This was why in 2017 I decided to work
with Anwar. Fortunately, our goals were aligned as far as ousting Najib was
concerned, and we succeeded. After that, I promised I would step down
before the next general election, and I only needed extra time to resolve
some of the more complicated problems we were facing. Other members
of the coalition were gracious enough to allow me this. They did not force
me to step down. It was only Anwar who was putting pressure on me to
leave sooner. From past experience, I knew that the man had no idea how to
268 govern the country. Anwar might think otherwise. He might even consider
himself capable but, as it turned out, he was not the factor that caused the
backdoor coup. The talk about setting up a Malay-Muslim Government
began the moment the Pakatan Harapan won the elections, but I never
thought it would happen. I could not see how it could happen. The Pakatan
Harapan had a good majority. Yes, there were differences of opinion but
we were working well together, especially in the Cabinet. Besides, I could
not imagine Bersatu leaving the Pakatan Harapan. When they talked about
a backdoor government, I dismissed it as wishful thinking on the part of
a minority of people. But as fate would have it, the Sheraton Move took
place and both Anwar and the much-maligned DAP were dispensed with.

Now, looking back, I wonder what this all says about me. I have made a
lot of choices which have turned out to be bad. For instance, I appointed
Tun Musa Hitam as my deputy and he worked against me. Then I chose
Anwar against the wishes of the party, and I raised him to become my
successor. He became Deputy Prime Minister. If I had stepped down then,
he would have been the Prime Minister, but he did something that I could
not accept. Then, in 2003, the Deputy Prime Minister at that time, Tun
Abdullah Ahmad Badawi, took over from me. Earlier, he had supported
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Tengku Razaleigh who was against me—but still I was prepared to accept
Abdullah. After he became Prime Minister, he reneged on many promises
he made to me. I worked hard to get Najib to be his deputy because I
believed he was a good candidate for leadership. When Najib took over
from Abdullah, I was very happy. But it was short-lived.

My choices say that I’m not good at assessing people. Perhaps I expected
too much of them. They certainly showed strong potential to lead, but
once they actually gained power, they changed completely. I’ve seen this
happen again and again. There is also the assumption that once you
reach the pinnacle, you’ve made it and you needn’t strive to do more. But
as I have discovered, leadership is more than making fine speeches or
having wonderful visions and hopes for your country or even having the
actual expertise to carry it all out. It’s more than just managing people or
managing expectations.

It’s certainly much more than one’s own egotistical desires.

269
 Chapter 13
The Unfinished Struggle

I once thought 96 was terribly old but here I am at this grand age, working
on the last chapter of this book. I spend full days in the office, reading,
writing and blogging. On occasion, you might find me on TikTok or
Clubhouse, and when I can, I meet people who come to tell me about
their heartaches and grievances. During the COVID-19 pandemic, I would
visit my constituency in Langkawi whenever the Movement Control Order
(MCO) allowed. I was there in early March 2021, to get vaccinated against
the COVID-19 virus, but I often also used Zoom to hold virtual meetings.

I know that I have led an extraordinary life, for which I am most grateful
to God. I have spent much of it serving the country. After 22 years and
three months as Prime Minister, I stepped down in 2003 to embark on new
adventures with my wife, Hasmah, who has almost always been by my
side. But after years in retirement, I felt compelled to take a stand against
the corruption and abuses that were happening. I could never look away
or turn a blind eye when something wasn’t right—especially when it could
270 destroy our country if nothing was done. When the situation seemed
hopeless, I felt called to do my part in capturing hope once again.

Now, the unthinkable has happened. As we enter the final quarter of 2021,
we have had not one but two Prime Ministers in as many years leading
backdoor governments. Every single Prime Minister before that led a
government elected by the people. But now, none of the Perikatan Nasional
leaders can claim to possess the mandate of the people, for none has been
brave enough to seek even a vote of confidence in Parliament. The United
Malays National Organisation (UMNO) has crept back into power by
the back door, and criminal investigations into some of those associated
with the party have been dropped. In a bribery case involving a prominent
UMNO politician, the giver of the bribe was found guilty of corruption
and sentenced while the one who received the bribe was acquitted. Other
cases under investigation have also suddenly been declared to be without
merit and dropped. We have also discovered that it is possible for a thief
to return part of the money he stole in order to be exonerated and free to
retain the rest.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Najib and the back door

When I became Prime Minister for the second time, I saw it as a chance
to repair some of the monumental damage created by Datuk Seri Najib
Razak and his government, and help reset the direction of the nation. I
would have needed a minimum of three years to fix things, and I knew I
had to step down before the next general election. In the end, I had less
than any of that—just 22 months—although I think we achieved quite a
lot in that time. For me, one of the main challenges was managing the
five different parties that made up the Pakatan Harapan coalition, and
each of these had little or no experience in governing the country through
consensus-building. This was perhaps one of the main internal issues that
ultimately made us vulnerable.

In the Barisan Nasional, there was a dominant party—UMNO—but there

was always consideration for all members in the coalition. The Barisan
Nasional was able to function well and develop the country. Under the
Pakatan Harapan, we had five parties of equal strength and each party
wanted its ideology to be at the centre of the new Government. When
you find that you are indispensable and critical to the existence of the
Government, you can feel the urge to make demands. This can break up a
271
coalition. In the case of the Pakatan Harapan, each party was strong and
this meant that if one party dropped out, the whole government could fall.
Each MP knew his or her strength: if you didn’t do what the MPs wanted
you to do, they could make things very difficult. This was the prevailing
attitude in the Pakatan Harapan, and I did my best to ensure that working
relations, at least among Cabinet members, remained cordial. For the most
part, the Pakatan Harapan worked reasonably well until 20 MPs from
Bersatu together with 11 from PKR walked out of the coalition.

During my leadership in the Barisan Nasional, coalition partners were

on much friendlier terms, which allowed us to talk informally about the
reasons behind our policies or ideas. I don’t recall former Malaysian
Chinese Association President Tun Dr Ling Liong Sik or Malaysian Indian
Congress President Tun S. Samy Vellu ever saying, “This is against my
party.” They would always listen first and discuss the issues. For instance,
if I said we needed to correct an imbalance between the Malays and the
Chinese, and I showed them how it could be done without adversely
affecting other parties, they would usually accept my explanation. There
were times they disagreed, of course, and we would then explore other
ways of achieving our objectives.
 CAPTURING

HOPE

I was a “fuller” Prime Minister in the Barisan Nasional than I was in the
Pakatan Harapan, meaning that in the Pakatan Harapan I had to work
harder to bring about consensus among Cabinet members, especially for
important policies and actions. Unfortunately, from the outside looking
in, the Malays saw this as the DAP’s domination of the Pakatan Harapan
and its influence over the Prime Minister—but the truth was that for 22
months, the Government functioned well. We were able to clean up the
administration, and start dealing with the debts that Najib had taken on.
And there were many other problems that we managed to resolve, although
we didn’t go around shouting about our achievements. We worked with
capable civil servants and thrashed out the problems. Our meetings were
long and exhausting, but we knew the direction to take. However, because
of the backdoor coup, a slew of policy initiatives and programmes have
been left hanging in the balance. Even matters resolved and passed by
Parliament, such as the Bill to lower the voting age to 18, have been shunted
aside under Tan Sri Muhyiddin Yassin.

I believe Najib played a big role in exploiting our weaknesses but he would
not have succeeded if my erstwhile deputy in Bersatu—Muhyiddin—and
several others hadn’t abandoned their principles for political power. Since
272 that fateful day when the Yang di-Pertuan Agong declared Muhyiddin
Prime Minister, the country has been in a state of flux. There was a time
when Malaysia was an “Asian Tiger”, but because of Najib, Malaysia
became a kleptocracy. To this day, there is little prospect of recovering the
billions lost during his term in office. When the COVID-19 pandemic hit
Malaysia in March 2020, the economy was already in low gear, and the
events of the rest of the year as well as 2021 put us all in a precarious
position. The national oil company PETRONAS registered a net loss of
RM21 billion for the year 2020, compared to a net profit of RM48.8 billion
in 2019. The government-linked companies (GLCs) have all gone quiet,
while multinationals have started rethinking their investments in Malaysia.
As we go forward, government expenditure must undoubtedly rise: there
are subsidies that must be given out to those who desperately need money
for food and other necessities, as well as free vaccines and booster shots
for everyone. In the medium to long term, the Government will have no
choice but to borrow despite already shouldering the massive debt incurred
by Najib.

In November 2020, the Government introduced the biggest Budget in

the history of Malaysia, with RM322.5 billion in allocations. But with
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

government revenue shrinking, the deficit will balloon. Where would it

find the money to finance the deficit? More borrowings would push up
our debt to RM1.3 trillion, which was far, far above the current limit to
government borrowing of 60 per cent of GDP. It would now be more
than 80 per cent of GDP. Certainly, all governments face crises at one
time or another, and managing these crises requires special skills. I know
of singularly capable individuals in the country who could have been
appointed to handle the current crisis, but both Muhyiddin and Datuk Seri
Ismail Sabri Yaakob have made no attempt to consult these experts for
help. In politics and government today, there seems to be an unhealthy
distrust of outsiders—those in power seem to want only their own political
supporters around them, even if they do not have the kind of mindsets
and innovative solutions that are needed for the unusual challenges we
face today. Furthermore, the mishandling of the national response to the
pandemic—coupled with the incompetence of those in power—may lead
to Malaysia joining the ranks of failed states in the long term.

Mismanagement of the COVID-19 pandemic

From the start, Muhyiddin’s management of the COVID-19 pandemic was
273
very poor. There were not enough hospital beds to accommodate the sick,
and many COVID-positive patients were told to quarantine themselves
at home. Some of these patients died distressing deaths. They could not
breathe and there was no oxygen in the house nor doctors to attend to
them. People lost their parents and loved ones to the disease. They were
distraught and angry.

Although the Government claimed to have spent RM600 billion on aid

programmes, very little of these funds have actually reached those in
need. Malaysians organised their own aid programmes on social media
where you would put out a white flag if you needed basic assistance such
as food, plus other fundraising events. The White Flag campaign pointed
to the utter failure of the Government to deal with the social and economic
consequences of COVID-19, aggravated by its incompetent handling
of the pandemic that has necessitated lockdown after lockdown. The
Government could not or would not look after the people, so the people
looked after themselves.

On 11 January 2021 Muhyiddin advised the Agong to proclaim an

emergency, ostensibly to combat the pandemic. However, its real
 CAPTURING

HOPE

purpose was just to prevent his position from being challenged. Under
the Emergency, Muhyiddin and his people suspended Parliament and
vested all power within the executive. This was both a violation of the
Constitution, which stipulates that Parliament must reconvene within six
months of its last sitting, as well as anathema to any democracy. Even after
the Agong disclosed in a public statement that Parliament may sit during
the Emergency, the Perikatan Nasional studiously avoided convening
Parliament. Instead, the Government held a meeting with MPs to brief
them about its plans.

The Government even ignored the constitutional requirement for

parliamentary approval should a money bill be proposed. Also, not a single
order issued by the Government under the Emergency was laid before
Parliament. The Government of Malaysia in effect became a totalitarian
government. Even the manner in which the Emergency was proclaimed
was against the Constitution. It should have been laid before Parliament
before it could be passed.

Some might recall the Emergency of 1969, which the Agong declared after
racial riots on 13 May of that year resulted in the deaths of 130 people.
274 Under that Emergency, the Government set up a special body called
the National Operations Council (NOC) headed by Najib’s father, Tun
Abdul Razak Hussein, who was Deputy Prime Minister. To strengthen the
Government as a whole, however, Tun Razak invited Opposition parties
to join the Government in a new coalition called the Barisan Nasional.
He succeeded, and four parties joined him and increased the Barisan
Nasional’s majority in Parliament when it was reconvened.

However, we ought to remember that the mere declaration of an emergency

cannot achieve lasting change. In 1969, it was the vision, intelligence and
courage of people like Tun Razak and others that made all the difference,
not the Emergency by itself. As such, Muhyiddin’s Emergency failed to
contain the disease—if indeed managing the pandemic ever needed an
emergency in the first place—while the bitter medicine that we needed to
swallow came at the high cost of halting all economic and social activity.
We were locked down in our homes, unable to work or move around.
Families could not be allowed to visit the sick and, worse still, to bury their
dead. By mid-September 2021, over two million people have been infected
and over 22,000 have died.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

This was upsetting, and there was an increase in suicides due to the
restrictions imposed on the movements of people as well as pressure from
prolonged insecurity. But a brief, if harsh, lockdown would have been
preferable to the drawn-out, half-hearted and incompetently enforced
“Movement Control Order”, “Conditional Movement Control Order”,
“Recovery Movement Control Order”, “Enhanced Movement Control
Order”, “Full Movement Control Order”, and so forth. This has only
succeeded in prolonging the suffering of the people, adding to a loss of
faith in the Government.

The fall of Muhyiddin

Indeed, one of the worst things about Muhyiddin’s backdoor government is
the loss of trust and alienation it provoked in the young. It was so bad that
the young actually began to fight back: on 31 July 2021, hundreds of young
Malaysians gathered near Dataran Merdeka in Kuala Lumpur, wearing
black and waving black flags. They braved the pandemic, as well as threats
and other measures by the authorities to prevent them from gathering,
in order to protest the Perikatan Nasional Government’s handling of the
pandemic and to call on Muhyiddin to resign. This “Black Flag” protest
275
came on the heels of the White Flag campaign. People resorted to this
because the Government had failed. But instead of listening to their cries,
the Government retaliated with threats, intimidation and claims of sedition.

Even individual politicians seemed to be persecuted. On 22 July, former

Youth and Sports Minister Syed Saddiq Syed Abdul Rahman was charged
with misappropriating RM1.12 million of funds from Bersatu. He has been
questioned about this before, but the case was dropped. Now, he has been
hauled up again on the same charge. Bail was set at RM330,000, and Syed
Saddiq made a public appeal for help to fund both bail and legal costs.
Within 24 hours, Malaysians contributed more than RM700,000, which
said a great deal about what people thought about the unelected Perikatan
Nasional Government. Almost daily, artists and cartoonists were posting
caricatures and artwork lampooning Muhyiddin and his allies. But while
this certainly provided an insight into the derision people had for the
Government, it also took attention away from Najib, who had been the
focus of public contempt ever since the 1MDB saga came to a head.

When Muhyiddin decided to rely on Najib’s support for his backdoor

Government, I warned him that Najib would give him a lot of trouble.
 CAPTURING

HOPE

Muhyiddin assured me that he would not interfere with Najib’s trials and
other court cases. In this, at least, I believe Muhyiddin kept his word—he
apparently declined to drop charges against Najib or obtain a pardon for
his existing convictions. However, there was a much deeper problem—any
government involving UMNO would have to depend on the support of
Najib and his fellow wrongdoers. Muhyiddin faced the task of maintaining
power with a parliamentary majority of two seats: the jailing of the six
UMNO MPs who had been charged with crimes would have brought down
the Government. Muhyiddin was also under pressure from UMNO to have
an UMNO politician fill the Deputy Prime Minister’s post, which had
been left empty. Muhyiddin eventually appointed Ismail Sabri of UMNO
to the position—but then UMNO withdrew its support for Muhyiddin’s
Government and Muhyiddin was forced to resign.

The replacement of Muhyiddin’s Government could be made by a general

election, but the COVID-19 pandemic prevented that from happening.
This was how the decision came down to 222 MPs choosing one of their
number to be made Prime Minister. The Agong concurred and asked
all MPs to make statutory declarations in support of their candidate.
UMNO, PAS and Muhyiddin’s group supported Ismail Sabri. The Pakatan
276 Harapan together with the other members of the overthrown Government
supported Anwar. Ismail Sabri won with a majority of three votes. He was
duly sworn in as Prime Minister but it was obvious that he had to reappoint
almost all of Muhyiddin’s Ministers as members of his Cabinet as they had
supported him. And so there was no change in the Government except for
the Prime Minister. The Government chosen by the people in the 2018
General Election remained in opposition.

I asked Ismail Sabri before he became Prime Minister that I be given

the authority to set up a special body to deal with the health, economic
and social crises affecting our country. I was ignored. And, as can be
expected, the new Government differed little from the Government under
Muhyiddin. So far, the focus of the Prime Minister and his government
has been on the politics of survival. Little has been said about or done
about the COVID pandemic. Muhyiddin, who had been condemned for
failing to handle the pandemic, has now been appointed chairman of
the government unit tasked with managing it. Large numbers of people
continue to be infected, hundreds are dying daily, and the incidence of
suicide is still worrisome. According to statistics up to May, we saw an
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

average of three suicides per day in 2021. This is almost double the rate in
2020 and 2019, which was an average of 1.7.

Ismail Sabri will feel the same pressure from Najib as Muhyiddin did. For
Najib, all that matters is returning to power—and he is nearly there. He had
made remarkable progress after he lost the general election in 2018. His
first move to regain power was to join with PAS, and despite failing to make
headway he continued his campaign to win over the Malays of my party,
Bersatu. He then played up sentiments against the non-Malay majority in
the Pakatan Harapan, and he succeeded in winning over enough Malays
from Bersatu including the ex-UMNO renegades together with the faction
led by Datuk Seri Mohamed Azmin Ali in PKR to join him and overthrow
the Pakatan Harapan.

When Muhyiddin refused to stop the court proceedings against Najib,

Najib threatened to pull out of the coalition, triggering the sequence of
events that led to the rise of Ismail Sabri. So, today there is an UMNO
Prime Minister of Malaysia again, and for Najib the next step is to have
the court cases against him thrown out. After that, he will seek a full
pardon, and he then will be able to return as an UMNO candidate for the
premiership in future elections. 277

Quo vadis, Malaysia?

Today, our political environment is replete with all kinds of manoeuvres
by politicians seeking to grab power. These activities often descend to the
lowest level—we see bribery and corruption everywhere, so much so that
we have to doubt the sincerity of everyone in politics. It seems as if almost
no one becomes a politician in order to serve the nation and the people.
It seems that almost everyone is out simply to achieve personal financial
gain. Because of this, many are setting up new political parties. Each of
these expect their leaders to become the Prime Minister. Of course, this is
completely democratic, but when an incompetent person becomes Prime
Minister, it can be disastrous for the country. Already we have seen how a
Prime Minister concerned only with satisfying his greed can destroy and
impoverish our country.

Most of the old parties have split up. Together with the new parties, the
elections of the future will see multiple candidates in every constituency,
and the electorate will be so divided that none of the candidates will get
 CAPTURING

HOPE

a substantial number of votes. In our first-past-the-post voting system, the

candidate with the highest number of votes will win. With many parties
contesting, it is probable that no party will win enough seats to form a
government. So, to form any kind of working government, groups of
parties would have to try to form coalitions. With no common objectives,
such coalitions will not be strong. The likelihood is that there would be
break-ups as parties try to form other coalitions among themselves. Such a
scenario is too unstable for any serious work on long-term economic and
social development for the nation.

Malaysia has always been ruled by a coalition Government—but these were

pre-election coalitions that contested the polls as unified entities. In the
Barisan Nasional, there was a core made up of UMNO with other parties
gathering around it. There were 13 parties in all, and although UMNO was
never able to achieve a majority by itself, it never needed to. There was also
an understanding among the member-parties not to contest against one
another. Rather, the coalition as a whole would field only one candidate
in each constituency, but members and supporters of the member-parties
would support that candidate and ensure that he or she would win. This
was how the Barisan Nasional could win enough seats to make up the
278 majority for so long.

Eventually, the Opposition parties also formed a coalition, which effectively

resulted in a two-party system. This was a very healthy development and
eventually the opposition Pakatan Harapan coalition actually won. But now
the whole system has collapsed. The members of the governing coalition
as well as the Opposition have threatened to contest separately. So, we can
expect more than two candidates standing in every constituency.

Democracy comes in many different shapes and sizes. There are republican
democracies headed by presidents such as the United States, and there
are also democratic republics (such as Singapore) where the President
is the head of state but the executive head of government is the Prime
Minister. Ours is a constitutional monarchy like the UK, and we have a
popularly elected Government headed by a Prime Minister. However,
what is happening in Malaysia today is that our democracy is in danger
of becoming unworkable because the many parties are going to contest
on their own and none will be likely to achieve a large enough majority to
form a government in its own right.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

We must therefore return to a two-party system driven by a healthy respect

for the Federal Constitution and the principles of democracy and good
governance—and not political expediency. At the heart of this is the right
of the people to choose its government. This is a core principle of our
nation since it was formed in 1963, and before, when Peninsular Malaya
was granted its independence from Britain. We must be pragmatic, but we
must also be grounded in the democratic principle that the people choose
the Government. Backdoor governments through elected MPs switching
parties should cease.

In my view, Muhyiddin must accept a great deal of responsibility for

what has happened and what is happening. He knew that I was averse to
working with Najib or with the kleptocrats from the Barisan Nasional. He
knew that I would reject any offer to head a new coalition involving these
people, and it was his plan to offer himself as leader and Prime Minister.
He then seemed to have no qualms about enticing MPs to support his
feeble backdoor government with all kinds of enticements: ministerships
and deputy ministerships, and when he ran out of those he invented
“ministerial-level” appointments. He also handed out chairmanships and
directorships of GLCs even to MPs who were patently incapable of doing
the job, all in order to maintain his wafer-thin majority in Parliament. 279

This was no way to run a country, but worse was the party-hopping by
MPs in return for money. If politicians and even entire governments could
be bought and sold, why should anyone have faith in elections at all? If
governments could come to power solely on the basis of handing out
company positions with large salaries to the right people, why shouldn’t
the voting public think that the entire system is built on the self-serving
greed of politicians? Party-hopping should be made illegal—or at least,
politicians who jump ship must be made immediately accountable to
their voters. Otherwise, party-hopping would be a clear violation of the
principles of democracy because it can rob the electorate of its right to
choose the Government.

Recapturing hope
I look back on what has happened with deep despair. I also feel sad that I
have not accomplished what I had set out to do for the country. Under the
Pakatan Harapan, I had laid plans for the development and the future of
the country, the economy, education, the politics of the country, with new
 CAPTURING

HOPE

strategies and visions for a more inclusive society. All these things had been
put in place, and it remained for us to oversee their implementation.

Some said I looked very tired in those last weeks before I resigned but I
was able to do the work. I was working 18 hours a day. I had so much to
do, so many papers to read and letters to write. There were also several key
decisions to be made. I was still capable of doing all this as I had the way
forward planned out. My training as a doctor enabled me to solve problems
in a systematic way, and the policies that I was designing would enable
anyone to smoothly take over from me to continue with the governing of
the country.

As a human being, I am not spared from making mistakes. I apologise if

my decision to resign was wrong but I write this in truth: I could not have
stayed on. I was stressed, kecil hati and feeling kecewa—discouraged and
disappointed. It is not an easy thing to accept that your party no longer has
confidence in you. I also did not expect to be betrayed by a co-founder of
my party.

From the time Muhyiddin took power as Prime Minister up to the moment
280 I am writing this, I have seen power being abused flagrantly by egotistical
politicians in violation of the spirit and letter of our Constitution and the
principles of our democracy. However, I am encouraged that there are
Malaysians speaking out. These are our young people who are deeply
aware of their rights as well as the duties and responsibilities of political
leaders towards the country. They are the future. God willing, they will
restore all that is right for our country.
 Perjuangan Yang Belum Selesai

I close this book with this poem, which I wrote many years ago. I have
realised that the struggle will always continue. We will always need to keep
in check the forces that can undermine our country. I hope the fight for a
better Malaysia will never end.

Perjuangan Yang Belum Selesai

Sesungguhnya
tidak ada yang lebih menyayat
dari melihat bangsaku dijajah.
Tidak ada yang lebih menyedihkan
dari membiarkan bangsaku dihina.

Air mata tiada ertinya

sejarah silam tiada maknanya
sekiranya bangsa tercinta terpinggir 281
dipersenda dan dilupakan.

Bukan kecil langkah wira bangsa

para pejuang kemerdekaan
bagi menegakkan kemuliaan
dari darjat bangsa
selangkah bererti mara
mengharung sejuta dugaan.

Biarkan bertatih
asalkan langkah itu yakin dan cermat
bagi memastikan negara
merdeka dan bangsa terpelihara.
Air mata sengsara
mengiringi setiap langkah bapa-bapa kita.

Tugas kita bukan kecil

kerana mengisi kemerdekaan
 CAPTURING

HOPE

rupanya lebih sukar dari bermandi keringat dan darah menuntutnya.

Lagi pula apalah ertinya kemerdekaan
kalau bangsaku asyik mengia dan menidakkan,
mengangguk dan membenarkan,
kerana sekalipun bangganya negara
kerana makmur dan mewahnya,
bangsaku masih melata
dan meminta-minta di negaranya sendiri.

Bukan kecil tugas kita

meneruskan perjuangan kemerdekaan kita
kerana rupanya
selain memerdekakan,
mengisi kemerdekaan itu jauh lebih sengsara.

Bangsaku bukan kecil hati dan jiwanya.

Bukankah sejak zaman berzaman
mereka menjadi pelaut, pengembara
malah penakluk terkemuka?
Bukankah mereka sudah mengembang sayap,
282 menjadi pedagang dan peniaga
selain menjadi ulama dan ilmuan terbilang?

Bukankah bangsaku pernah mengharung samudera

menjajah dunia yang tak dikenal?
Bukankah mereka pernah menjadi wira serantau
yang tidak mengenal erti takut dan kematian?

Di manakah silapnya
hingga bangsaku berasa begitu kecil dan rendah diri?
Apakah angkara penjajahan?
Lalu bangsaku mulai melupakan kegemilangan silam
dan sejarah gemilang membina empayar?

Tugas kita belum selesai rupanya

bagi memartabat dan memuliakan bangsa
kerana hanya bangsa yang berjaya
akan sentiasa dihormati.
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Rupanya masih jauh dan berliku jalan kita

bukan sekadar memerdeka dan mengisinya
tetapi mengangkat darjat dan kemuliaan
buat selama-lamanya.

Hari ini, jalan ini

pasti semakin berliku
kerana masa depan
belum tentu menjanjikan syurga
bagi mereka yang lemah dan mudah kecewa.

Perjuangan kita belum selesai

kerana hanya yang cekal dan tabah
dapat membina mercu tanda
bangsanya yang berjaya.

THE UNFINISHED STRUGGLE

In truth
nothing breaks the heart more 283
than seeing my people subjugated.
Nothing is sadder
than leaving them humiliated.

Neither tears nor history

bear any meaning
should my beloved people be cast aside,
mocked and forgotten.

It was no small feat that our heroes

have fought for freedom and honour
overcoming endless challenges.

We may take small steps,

but let them be confident and heedful
that we may free our nation and our people.
Tears of sorrow
accompanied every step our forefathers took.
 CAPTURING

HOPE

Ours is no small task

for the task of the free is harder
than being drenched in sweat and blood.

But what good is freedom

when my people merely bow and scrape,
nodding, obsequious;
for as proud as our nation might be
of its wealth and splendour,
my people still go begging
in their own land.

Ours is no small task

to press forward for freedom
for what matters more than freedom
is the very meaning of freedom itself.

We are not a people feeble in spirit or in soul.

Have we not been in ages past
seafarers, explorers, conquerors?
284 Did we not spread our influence far and wide
in trade and exchange,
through scholarship and wisdom?

Did we not brave the open seas

to discover unknown lands?
Were we not a warrior-people
who knew not the meanings of fear or death?

Where did we go wrong,

that now my people are so feeble and small?
Must we blame our conquerors,
even as we ourselves forget our own glorious past,
and our own imperial history?

It seems our task is still not done

to dignify and ennoble our people;
for only those who succeed will be honoured.
Our road seems long and winding
not merely towards freedom and its meaning
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

but also towards raising our dignity and honour

for all time.

Today, our path is increasingly perilous:

the future is uncertain, there is no promise of heaven
for the weak and the faint of heart.

Our struggle is unfinished

for only the wise and valiant
will light the beacon
for a victorious people.

Dr Mahathir bin Mohamad

4 May 1996

285
 About the Author

THE HON. TUN DR MAHATHIR BIN MOHAMAD

The Hon. Tun Dr Mahathir bin Mohamad served as the fourth Prime
Minister of Malaysia from 1981 to 2003, and returned as its seventh
premier from 2018 to 2020.

During his first premiership, Dr Mahathir opened up the country to

foreign investments, reformed taxation, reduced trade barriers, oversaw the
privatisation of numerous state-owned enterprises, and created a world-
class physical infrastructure. Malaysia developed into one of the most
prosperous and dynamic economies in Southeast Asia, with a burgeoning
industrial sector, an expanding middle class and enhanced quality of life.
He retired in 2003, having served for 22 years.

In 2015 Dr Mahathir came out of retirement and spearheaded a campaign

to topple the Government led by Datuk Seri Najib Razak for his complicity
in the 1MDB scandal. The US Department of Justice had described
286
Najib Razak as committing the “biggest kleptocracy in the history of its
investigation.”

Dr Mahathir was at the forefront of the Pakatan Harapan coalition that

claimed an unexpected victory against the incumbent Barisan Nasional
government in the 14th Malaysian General Election held on 9 May 2018.
He was sworn in as the seventh Prime Minister the following day. He
resigned on 24 February 2020.

Dr Mahathir is married to a doctor, Tun Dr Siti Hasmah Mohd Ali, and

they have seven children and 18 grandchildren.
 affirmative action 22, 131, 151,
INDEX 152–154, 155, 195
Agong, see: Yang di-Pertuan
Agong
Ahmad Zahid Hamidi, Datuk Seri
SYMBOLS Dr 30–31, 55, 56, 70, 131,
1Malaysia Development Berhad 243, 248, 253, 255, 256, 259
(1MDB) 17, 20, 21, 23–34, Al-Afghani, Jamal al-Din 172
35, 37, 44, 64, 67, 72, 73, 86, Al-Arqam 182
90, 93–98, 99, 102, 104, 105, Al-Baghdadi 174
122, 222, 227, 254–255, 275 Al-Biruni 171
Al-Jazeera 32
A Al-Khwarizmi 171
Abdul Azeez Abdul Rahim, Datuk Ali Hamsa, Tan Sri 29
Seri 253 Alliance Party vii, viii, 135, 239
Abdul Aziz Tunku Ibrahim, Tunku Altantuya Shaariibuu 31
32–33 Amanah, see: Parti Amanah
Abdul Gani Patail, Tan Sri 28–31, Negara
94–95 Ambrin Buang, Tan Sri, see
Abdul Ghani Othman, Tan Sri also: Auditor-General of
135 Malaysia 94
Abdul Ghani Salleh, Datuk 61 Ananda Krishnan, Tan Sri T. 25–
Abdul Hadi Awang, Datuk Seri 26 287
55, 70, 180, 233, 243, 245, Annuar Musa, Tan Sri 103, 240
248, 256 Anthony Loke, see: Loke Siew
Abdul Hamid Bador, Tan Sri 95 Fook, Anthony
Abdul Kadir Rais 56 Anwar Ibrahim, Datuk Seri vii,
Abdul Rahman, Tunku 13, 18, 39, 48–52, 53–56, 70, 79, 87,
101, 266 92, 138, 164, 217–218, 229–
Abdul Rahman Johari Tun Abang 231, 236, 239–240, 242–243,
Haji Openg, Datuk Patinggi 250, 252, 258–259, 261–262,
Abang 233 263–268, 276
Abdul Rahman Ya’kub, Tun 197 Release and pardon 49–51,
Abdul Razak Hussein, Tun 8, 15, 53–54, 86, 93, 105, 265
18, 21, 239, 274 Aquino Jr, Benigno 78
Abdullah Ahmad, Tan Sri 162 Armada (Bersatu Youth Wing)
Abdullah Ahmad Badawi, Tun 251
4–10, 13, 17, 21, 22, 35–36, Armed Forces Provident Fund 99
38, 48, 259, 268 Ashaari Mohammad 182
Abdullah Shah, Sultan 133, 217, Asia-Pacific Economic
236, see also: Yang di- Cooperation (APEC)
Pertuan Agong Summit 2020 266
Acton, Lord 15, 44, 225 Astro Awani 76
Abu Kassim Mohamed, Tan Sri Attorney-General of Malaysia 28–
28, 29, 95 29, 30, 31, 40, 42, 93, 94,
Abu Talib Othman, Tan Sri 221 96, 221, 227, 228, 253, 255
 CAPTURING

HOPE

Auditor-General of Malaysia 26– by-elections 59, 134–137, 229

27, 32, 94–95
Ayah Pin 182 C
Azalina Othman Said, Datuk Seri Camdessus, Michel 264
251 Cameron Highlands by-election
Azhar Azizan (Art) Harun, Datuk 2019, see: by-elections
251 Canute, King 12–13
Azmin Ali, see: Mohamed Azmin Carrian Group 33
Ali Central Intelligence Agency (USA)
3
B Chamberlain, Neville 239
backdoor government viii, 247, Chan Chee Kong 97
252, 256–257, 268, 270–272, Chang, Matthias 254
275, 279, see also: Perikatan Chief Secretary to the Government
Nasional 29, 90
Bahri Mohammad Zin, Datuk 95 Chilcot, Sir John 3
Bank Negara Malaysia 27–29, 31, China 41, 100–101, 149–150, 153,
102 156–157, 162, 170, 172, 195,
Bantuan Rakyat 1Malaysia 200, 241
(BR1M) 22, 53, 60, 89 China Communications
Bar Council 103, 255 Construction Co. Ltd 100
Barisan Alternatif 66 Chinese Malaysians 22, 87, 112,
288 Barisan Nasional vi–vii, 1, 5, 135, 139, 145, 146, 149, 153,
7–13, 15, 18, 23, 27, 30–31, 156–157, 165, 195, 199, 223
38, 41, 43–44, 49, 50, 53–57, Chinese Schools in Malaysia 139,
59–62, 64, 66–68, 70–73, 149–150, 196–198, see also:
76–83, 86, 89, 106, 109, 115, education
121, 127, 133–135, 213, 218, Chua Tee Yong, Datuk 80
222, 235, 245, 254, 256, Chung Ju-yung 204
258–259, 261, 271–272, 274, Churchill, Sir Winston 239, 242
278–279, see also: General Citizens’ Declaration 49
Election (2018) Civil Aviation Authority of
Bersatu, see: Parti Pribumi Bersatu Malaysia (CAAM) 68
Malaysia Civil Service 90–91, 107, 109, 131,
Bersih 38, 40, 41, 75, 82, 121 207, 228
Blair, Tony 3 challenges in executing
Bloomberg 67 policy 127–128
Bonaparte, Napoleon 2 Clausewitz, Carl von 1
Bumiputera 18, 22, 54, 92, 138, Coalition for Clean and Fair
266, 267, see also: Malays Elections, see: Bersih)
Bumiputra Malaysia Finance Conference of Rulers 49, 84–85,
Limited (BMF) 33 132–133, 160–161, 197,
Bung Moktar Radin, Datuk Seri 243–244, 260
258 Corbyn, Jeremy 3
Bush, George W. 3
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

corruption 6–7, 9, 16–20, 27, E

28–31, 33, 39, 42, 58, 67, East Coast Rail Link (ECRL) 100
74, 106–108, 109, 125, 127, Edge, The 23, 28, 72, 222, 238, 255
141, 156, 164, 193, 206, 212, Edge Financial Daily, The 240
213, 215–216, 219–220, 224, education vii, viii, 16, 72, 130,
226, 227, 229, 234, 235, 240, 131, 140, 146, 148, 149–150,
245–247, 248, 254–255, 259, 151, 153, 154, 156–157, 160,
262–263, 267, 270, 277 163, 174, 183–184, 189,
Council of Eminent Persons 29, 191–210, 238, 279
86, 102–103, 120 role in Malaysian identity
Court of Appeal (proceedings) 61, politics 196–198
102, 187, 227, 254 importance of English in
COVID-19 iv, viii, 126, 159, 170, 199–201
238, 242, 247, 253, 258, 260, impact on Malay value-
261, 263, 270, 272, 273–275, system 207–210
276 reform of religious content
cybertroopers 36, 111, 112–114 202–204
143 Election Commission 55, 60–62,
69, 76, 79, 84, 94, 105, 250
D electoral re-delineation 60–63
Daesh 30, 174 Emergency, Proclamation of 78,
Daim Zainuddin, Tun 93, 102 247, 260, 263, 273, 274
democracy 211–213, 216–218, Employees Provident Fund (EPF) 289
220, 278 103, 105, 122
Democratic Action Party (DAP) Engels, Friedrich 148
vi, vii, 32, 38–39, 49–52, Equanimity (yacht) 64, 96, 105
54, 55, 57, 58, 66, 80, 81, Exim Bank (China) 100
84, 85, 87–89, 97, 109–110,
112–114, 115, 134–135, 141, F
142–143, 155, 163, 165, 219, Facebook 37, 73, 160
223, 231, 234–235, 236, 239, “fake news” 53, 63, 69
240, 250, 252, 265, 268 Federal Bureau of Investigation
factionalism within 11–12 (USA) 64
Malay fear of 138–140, 145, Federal Constitution 61, 83, 84,
198, 229, 232–233, 272 93, 104, 120, 131, 133, 146,
Department of Justice (USA) 64, 161, 195, 196, 198, 217,
97, 286 247, 259, 274, 279, 280
Dewan Rakyat, see: Parliament of Federal Court (proceedings) 61,
Malaysia 254
Dong Zong 197 Federal Land Development
double-tracking (railway) 4 Authority (FELDA) 59, 94,
Dzulkefly Ahmad, Datuk Seri Dr 103, 104, 105, 106, 122, 125,
88 246
Dzulkifli Ahmad, Tan Sri 94 Federal Village Development and
Security Committees 99
 CAPTURING

HOPE

Federation of Malaysia 120 government-linked companies

foreign direct investment (FDI) 24, (GLCs) 92–93, 166, 246,
115, 128 272
foreign workers in Malaysia 158– Guardian, The 51–52
159, 213
Forest City 100 H
Four Corners (television Hajiji Noor, Datuk Seri Panglima
programme) 30 258
“Fourth Floor Boys” 6–7 Hamzah Zainudin, Datuk Seri 48,
229, 231, 235–236, 245, 257
G Hang Jebat 161, 209
Gabungan Parti Sarawak (GPS) Hang Tuah 195, 209
245 Hanif Omar, Tun 264
Gabungan Rakyat Sabah (GRS) High Court (proceedings) 48, 56,
258 57, 62, 69, 253, 255
Gaza Freedom Flotilla 134 Hindu Rights Action Force
General Election (2018) 53–85, (HINDRAF) 89
219 Home Affairs Ministry 28, 87–88,
Pakatan Harapan seat 113, 234, 252, 257
negotiations 54–55 Household Living Aid Scheme
Barisan Nasional tactics 141
55–67 hudud 66, 188, see also: Shariah
290 gerrymandering, see: law
electoral re-delineation
mass mobilisation of voters I
65 Ibn Sina 171
Gobind Singh Deo 85, 88, 110, Ibrahim Abdul Rahman 263
112 Ibrahim Ali, Datuk Paduka 162
Goldman Sachs 24, 99–100 Ibrahim Libya 163
Goods and Services Tax (GST) Ibrahim Suffian 81
39, 42, 60, 86, 98–99, 103, Ibrahim Sultan Iskandar, Sultan
105, 122, 137 133
Gordon of Khartoum, Charles Idris Jusoh, Datuk Seri 246
209 Indian Malaysians 22, 106, 123,
Government of Malaysia 134, 157
Cabinet (general) 9, 25, Indonesia 64, 96, 158
30, 42, 127–128, 133, 165, Internal Security Act 1960 49,
276, for the Cabinet under 121, 224
the Pakatan Harapan International Convention on the
Government, see: Pakatan Elimination of All Forms
Harapan, Cabinet of Racial Discrimination
debt 24, 42, 86, 99–102, 273 (ICERD) 131–133
corruption within 40, 45– International Court of Justice
48, 90 (ICJ) 132
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

International Criminal Court Khalid Abu Bakar, Tan Sri 28, 40

(ICC) 132–134 Kiandee, Datuk Ronald 106
International Islamic University King of Malaysia, see: Yang di-
Malaysia 30, 203 Pertuan Agong
Iskandar Abdul Samad 66 Kuala Lumpur Summit 2019
Iskandar Sultan Ismail, Sultan 221 168–170
Islam 8, 66, 132–133, 149, 160, Kuala Lumpur War Crimes
163, 168–190, 197, 202– Commission 2–4
204, 206–207, see also: Kulasegaran, M. 88
hudud, Shariah law Kuok, Tan Sri Robert 102
divisions within 171–176,
181–184 L
impact on non-Muslim Land Public Transport
Malaysians 186–188 Commission 91, 99
relationship with Christians Langkawi 55, 59, 67–70, 73, 75,
and Jews 176–177 77, 270
values and education 206– Lee Kuan Yew 4
208 Lembaga Tabung Angkatan
Islamic criminal law, see: hudud Tentera, see: Armed Forces
Islamic State of Iraq and Syria Provident Fund
(ISIS), see: Daesh Li Keqiang 100
Ismail Sabri Yaakob, Datuk Seri Lim Chong Eu, Tun Dr 239
vi, 273, 276–277 Lim Guan Eng 51, 52, 84, 87, 291
Ismail Sultan Ibrahim, Tunku 97, 101, 113–114, 145, 229,
(Crown Prince of Johor) 234–235, 236, 243, 250
132–133, 160–161 Lim Kit Siang vi, 49–50, 135, 240
Israel 134, 173 Lim, Datuk Patrick 7
Istana Negara 83–84, 89 Ling Liong Sik, Tun Dr 271
Liow Tiong Lai, Datuk Seri 77
J Loke Siew Fook, Anthony 88
Jho Low, see: Low Taek Jho Low Taek Jho 26, 32, 33, 64, 96
Johnson, Boris 237
Johor Military Force 160 M
Jomo Kwame Sundaram, Dr 102 Mah Siew Keong, Datuk Seri 56
judiciary 61–62, 221, 226–228 Mahathir bin Mohamad, Tun Dr
A Doctor in the House viii, 35,
K 223, 264
Karim Raslan 71, 76 attempted sabotage of
Karpal Singh 85, 110 aircraft 67–68
Kassim Ahmad 182–183 becoming Prime Minister
Kennedy, John F. 153 again 73–85
Ketuanan Melayu 162–164 blogging 36–38
Khairuddin Abu Hassan, Datuk criticisms of vi, 32–34, 36,
Seri 254 55–56, 181, 211, 221, 226–
Khairy Jamaluddin Abu Bakar 227, 264
6–7, 9, 35, 79 expelled from Bersatu 249
 CAPTURING

HOPE

forming new Cabinet (2018) Malaysia Boleh 162–163

87–93 Malaysian Anti-Corruption
hopes for a unity Commission (MACC) 28–
government 238–242 31, 33, 94–96, 107
independent media 221–224 Malaysian Chinese Association
initial retirement 1–8 (MCA) 11, 77, 80, 135, 240
Pakatan Harapan colleagues Malaysian Global Innovation and
114–119 Creativity Centre (MaGIC)
speaking at political rallies 91
(2018) 37, 71–73 Malaysian Indian Congress (MIC)
relationship with Anwar 11, 77, 240
Ibrahim 48–49, 51–52, Malaysian Malaysia 12, 50
263–268 Malaysian Reserve, The 28
resignation as Chairman of Manogaran, M. 134
Bersatu 236–238 Marcos, Ferdinand 78
views on preventive Marina Mahathir, Datin Paduka
detention 224–226 iv, 52, 71
Mahendran Nair, Prof. 241 Marx, Karl 148
Majlis Amanah Rakyat (MARA) Marzuki Mohamad, Datuk Dr 231
104, 105, 122, 196, 246 May, Theresa 237
Malays 6, 8, 12–15, 16, 22, 33, Maszlee Malik, Dr 88, 246–247
43–44, 46–47, 50, 55, 59, Mazlan Lazim, Datuk Seri 69
292 60, 66, 80–82, 112, 123–124, Media Prima 251
126, 128, 131–133, 139, [Link] 97
140–144, 145–147, 148, 150, Melayu Boleh 162
151–157, 158–167, 180–181, Merdeka Center 71, 81
194–199, 203, 205, 210, 229, Merican, Tan Sri Hassan 102
232–233, 235, 257, 266–267, Minister of Finance Incorporated
271–272, 277 23
entitlement 159–160 Ministry of Home Affairs 28,
feudal mentality 160–161 87–88, 234
rural marginalisation 146– Ministry of Transport 91
147 Mirzan Mahathir 34
Malay Dignity Congress 139–140 Mohamad Ariff Md Yusof, Tan Sri
Malay Dilemma, The 163–167 243, 247, 250–251
Malay Mail 77 Mohamed Azmin Ali, Datuk Seri
Malay-Muslim Government vii, 88, 143, 218, 230, 233–238,
112, 139, 229, 244, 248, 252, 243, 248, 259, 267–268, 277
254, 257, 268 Mohamad Hasan, Datuk Seri 69,
Malayan Union 8, 15, 38, 41, 43, 245
72 Mohamad Sabu 51, 52, 84, 88,
Malaysia Agreement (1963) 105, 234, 236
120, 122 Mohamed Apandi Ali, Tan Sri 93
Malaysia Airlines flight MH17 Mohamed Raus Sharif, Tun 61,
134 102
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Mohd Bakke Salleh, Tan Sri 246 consolidating support as

Mohd Hashim Abdullah, Tan Sri Prime Minister 245–253
61, 70, 94 political reputation 252–253
Mohd Irwan Serigar Abdullah, resignation as Prime
Tan Sri Dr 90 Minister 275–277
Mohd Najib Tun Abdul Razak, unhappiness at 2018 Cabinet
Datuk Seri vi, ix, 12–13, post 87–88, 234
15–18, 21–34, 35, 37–46, Mujahid Yusof Rawa, Datuk Seri
48–52, 53, 55–65, 67, 69, 70, Dr 240
73–74, 77–81, 83, 86, 87, Mukhriz Mahathir, Datuk Seri 6,
89, 90–92, 94–97, 99, 100, 14, 48, 56, 59, 231, 243, 250
101, 105, 109, 110, 114, 118, Musa Aman, Tan Sri 254, 255
123, 134, 135, 136, 138–139, Musa Hitam, Tun 268
142–143, 165, 166, 213, 216, Muslim Brotherhood 172
218, 219, 222, 227, 229, 231, Muslims, see: Islam
232, 235, 244, 245, 246, 248, Muslim Pilgrims’ Fund (Tabung
249, 252–256, 266, 268, 269, Haji) 99
271–272, 274, 275–277, 279 Myanmar 3, 132, 133, 158
1Malaysia branding 22–23
conviction 253–256 N
first years as Prime Minister Najib Razak, see: Mohd Najib Tun
8–10 Abdul Razak, Datuk Seri
investigations into 93–98 National Council of Professors 91, 293
reaction on losing the 2018 99
General Election 79–80, 83 National Higher Education Fund
Mohd Nor Abdullah, Datuk 135 (PTPTN) 103, 122, 137
Mohd Shafie Apdal, Datuk Seri National Innovation Agency 91
233, 238, 247, 250, 254 National Security Council
ousted from power 257–258 (Malaysia) 48, 56, 78
Mohd Shukri Abdull, Datuk Seri Nazrin Shah, Sultan 133
94 New Economic Policy 8, 22, 123,
Mokhzani Mahathir, Tan Sri 34 150–152, 154
Montgomery, Bernard 209 New Straits Times 32–33, 82, 137n
Movement Control Order (MCO) Nga Kor Ming 250
270, 275 Nik Abdul Aziz Nik Mat, Datuk
Muafakat Nasional 181, 248, 256 181
Muhammad V, Sultan 83 Nik Shazarina Bakti 101
Muhammad Abduh 172 Nor Faizah Engku Atek, Datuk
Muhammad Shafee Abdullah, Tan Engku 93
Sri 253 North-South Expressway 116–117
Muhyiddin Yassin, Tan Sri vi, vii, Nurul Izzah Anwar 49, 56
24, 29, 30, 48, 51–52, 75, 84,
87–88, 109, 136, 166–167, O
218, 229–236, 237, 243–244,
Official Secrets Act 1972 42, 94,
245–253, 255–263, 265, 267,
120
272–274, 275–277, 279, 280
 CAPTURING

HOPE

Ong Kian Ming 240 104, 107, 120, 140, 165, 167,
Operation Lalang 49, 223 213, 217–218, 227, 236–238,
Oxford Islamic Centre 30 240, 242–244, 245, 247–250,
252, 256, 260, 262, 265, 266,
P 270, 272, 274, 279
Pakatan Harapan vii–ix, 45, 48, disqualification of members
50–52, 53–59, 62, 65, 66–71, 69
73–85, 86–89, 91, 97, 98–99, Public Accounts Committee
102–108, 109–121, 123–124, (proceedings) 29, 94, 106
127, 130–139, 141–144, 145, removal of Speaker and
155, 180, 192, 212, 214, Deputies 250–251
216–218, 223, 227, 229–236, Parti Amanah Negara (Amanah)
237–244, 245–247, 249–250, 51, 52, 54, 58, 66, 88–89,
251, 252, 260–263, 265–267, 109, 164, 235–237, 250
268, 271–272, 276–277, Parti Bersatu Rakyat Sabah 240
278, 279, see also: General Parti Gerakan Rakyat Malaysia
Election (2018) (Gerakan) 11, 55, 239
Parti Islam Se-Malaysia (PAS) 7,
2018 General Election
38, 52, 54, 55, 66–67, 70, 79,
manifesto 119–123
80, 81, 142, 143, 163–164,
abolition of tolls 105, 117–
179–181, 188, 229, 232, 233,
118
235, 237, 238, 239, 240, 243,
Cabinet vii, 86, 87–90, 92,
294 248, 256, 267, 276, 277
102–108, 109–110, 112–115,
previous cooperation with
117, 120, 123, 138–139, 141,
DAP 66
145, 233, 234, 265, 268, 271,
Parti Keadilan Rakyat (PKR) 38–
272
39, 48–49, 51, 52, 54, 56, 58,
election promises and
68, 77, 79–80, 81, 84, 88–90,
reforms (2018) 103–119
109, 137, 141, 143, 164,
failure to defeat 2021 Budget
218–219, 230, 233, 235–237,
260–263
250, 266, 267, 271, 277
fall from power 229–236,
Parti Pejuang Tanah Air 267
242–244
Parti Pribumi Bersatu Malaysia
formation and registration
(Bersatu) vi–vii, 38, 41–42,
51–52, 57–59
44, 46–49, 51–52, 54, 56–59,
forms Government 86–93
65, 70, 75, 84, 88–89, 109,
“Opposition mindset” 104–
113, 135–136, 141, 143, 164,
105, 110–114
180, 217, 218–219, 229–238,
Presidential Council
240, 242–243, 245, 247–252,
(proceedings) 48, 52, 67,
256–258, 265–268, 271–272,
217, 229–231, 236–237, 250,
275, 277
266
Parti Solidariti Tanah Airku
Pakatan Rakyat 11, 12, 23, 54, 66
Rakyat Sabah (Star) 80
Palestine 133, 173
Parti Warisan Sabah 80, 81, 89,
Parliament of Malaysia 5, 11, 23,
109, 136, 233, 238, 250, 254,
24, 42, 45, 53, 58, 62, 63,
257–258, 265
66, 69, 77, 80, 83–84, 94, 98,
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Penang Bridge 6, 116, 118 Riza Shahriz Abdul Aziz 32, 33,
People’s Action Party 50 227, 254–255
People’s Progressive Party 239 Rohingya 3
Perbadanan Tabung Pendidikan Rome Statute 132–134
Tinggi Nasional (PTPTN), Rosmah Mansor, Datin Seri 10,
see: National Higher 32, 43, 96–98
Education Fund Royal Malaysian Police 29, 38–40,
Perdana Global Peace 42, 62, 69, 75, 78, 94, 96–
Organisation (PGPO) 1 97, 105, 135, 161, 186, 223,
Perdana Leadership Foundation v, 225–226, 264
4, 12, 87 Rulers (constitutional monarchs of
Performance Management and Malaysia), see: Conference
Delivery Unit (PEMANDU) of Rulers
21, 91 Rule of law 34, 79, 108, 130, 228,
Perikatan Nasional vii, viii, 145, 259
245–249, 255, 256, 258–263, rural poverty and reform 44, 124–
270, 274, 275 126, 263
Persatuan Ulama Malaysia 174
PETRONAS (Petroliam Nasional S
Berhad) 24, 34, 39, 102, 272 Saifuddin Abdullah, Datuk 90,
PetroSaudi Holdings (Cayman) 132
26, 32 Salahuddin Ayub, Datuk Seri 88
PetroSaudi Oil Services Ltd 26 Sales and Service Tax 39, 98, 122, 295
Police, see: Royal Malaysian Police 137
political party membership in Salleh Abas, Tun 221
Malaysia 46–48, 214–215 Samy Vellu, Tun S. 271
Prabakaran, P. 69 Santayana, George 148
Progressive Democratic Party Santhara Kumar, Datuk Seri Dr
(PDP) 245 R. 77
Proton 6, 154 Sarawak Report, The 30
Pua, Tony 97 Sarawak United People’s Party
239
R Saudi Arabia 30, 169, 175–176,
race relations in Malaysia 11–12, 185
43–44, 60, 62, 112, 127, Security Offences (Special
145–167, 196–198, 266–267 Measures) Act 2012
Ramasamy, Dr P. 233 (SOSMA) 121
Ramkarpal Singh 240 Semangat 46 45, 266
Ramli Mohd Nor 134 Senoi Praaq 135
Razaleigh Hamzah, Tengku 45, Shafie Apdal, see: Mohd Shafie
212, 266, 269 Apdal, Datuk Seri
Registrar of Societies 41, 53, Shahrir Abdul Samad, Tan Sri 94
57–58 Shahruddin Md Salleh, Datuk 247
Reuters 79, 80, 98, 138 Shared Prosperity Vision (SPV)
Rina Harun, Datuk Seri 88 124–127, 150, 155
Shariah law 174–175, 184–189,
203
 CAPTURING

HOPE

“Sheraton Move” 233, 235–236, U

263, 268 ulama 174–175, 177–179, 181,
Sin Chew Daily 223 183–185, 189–190, 192, 207,
Singapore 4, 10, 27, 50, 64, 68, 95, 282
100, 120, 146, 150, 214, 278
United Chinese School
Siti Hasmah Mohd Ali, Tun Dr iv,
Committees’ Association of
38, 74, 75, 80, 270
Malaysia, see: Dong Zong
Skim Peduli Sihat 104
United Malays National
S. M. Nasimuddin S.M. Amin, Tan
Organisation (UMNO) vi,
Sri 152
1, 5, 6, 8–9, 11, 13, 14–18,
Special Affairs Department 91,
21, 22, 23, 30, 32, 35, 41,
99, 261
43–48, 49, 50, 52, 54, 55, 57,
SRC International Sdn Bhd 26, 95,
58, 59, 64, 65, 69, 77, 79,
244, 253, 256
80, 81–82, 83, 87, 89, 90,
Star (political party), see: Parti
103, 109, 112, 113, 114, 131,
Solidariti Tanah Airku
135, 136, 138–139, 143, 162,
Rakyat Sabah
163–164, 180–181, 212, 213,
Streram Sinnasamy, Dr 69
219, 223, 229, 232, 233, 235,
Subramaniam, Datuk Seri Dr S.
237, 238, 240, 243, 245,
77
248–249, 252, 254, 255–256,
Syed Saddiq Syed Abdul Rahman
257–259, 264, 266–267, 270,
56, 90, 129, 231, 251, 275
271, 276–277, 278
296 2008 General Election 7–8
T
2013 General Election 11–
Tabung Haji, see: Muslim 14, 23
Pilgrims’ Fund 2018 General Election
Tabung Harapan Malaysia 101 defeat 41
Tengku Adnan Tengku Mansor, corruption within 14–18,
Datuk Seri 248, 253 44–45
Teoh, Patrick 160–161 relationship with Parti Islam
Terengganu Investment Authority, Se-Malaysia 180–181, 229,
see: 1Malaysia Development 232
Berhad (1MDB) United Nations General Assembly
Thomas, Tan Sri Tommy 228 130
Tian Chua 68–69
Tindak Malaysia 62 W
Tiong King Sing, Datuk Seri 245
Wahhabism 175–176, see also:
Trump, Donald 218
Islam
Tuan Ibrahim Tuan Man, Datuk
Wall Street Journal, The 28, 31
Seri 70, 180
Wan Adnan Wan Mamat 30
Tun Razak Exchange 25, 28
Wan Ahmad Dahlan Abdul Aziz,
Tunku, The, see: Abdul Rahman,
Datuk 84
Tunku
Wan Azizah Wan Ismail, Datuk
Tunku Abdul Rahman College
Seri Dr 49, 51, 53, 54, 75,
(TARC) 135–136
79, 84, 88, 230, 234, 236
 The Struggle Continues for a New Malaysia

Wan Mokhtar Wan Ahmad, Tan Y

Sri 5 Yang di-Pertuan Agong 49, 51,
Warisan, see: Parti Warisan Sabah 53, 62, 83–85, 89, 132–133,
Waytha Moorthy, P. 89 217–218, 221, 227, 236–238,
Wellington, Arthur Wellesley Duke 242–244, 247, 248, 258,
of 2 259–260, 263, 265, 272,
White Flag campaign 273, 275 273–274, 276
Wolfensohn, James D. 264 Z
Wong Tack 77
Zeti Akhtar Aziz, Tan Sri 28–29,
102
X
Zulaikha and Yusuf, story of 178,
Xi Jinping 100 189
Zulkefli Ahmad Makinudin, Tan
Sri 102
Zuraida Kamaruddin, Datuk 88

297