their dislike for me is intense. I am branded a dictator. If my name is mentioned at all, it is followed with insinuations of cronyism and references to the jailing of one of my deputies.
It is the negatives that they see and imagine, not our positive achievements. The great change, the vast and progressive social transformation that turned a poverty-stricken former colony into the Malaysia of today simply does not rate a polite mention. Ethnic European writers, journalists and officials utter hardly a word about the obvious capacity of the Malays as politicians and administrators capable of developing an entire country. Any rare mention of this achievement is prefaced by disparaging remarks about control of the Press, authoritarian rule, and political interference with the judiciary.
Most Malays are reluctant to offend others. They hide their frustration and anger over their humiliation by foreigners. I do not. In this respect I may not be completely Malay. I have learnt the frankness of foreigners and employ it in my dealings with them. I am no longer, like so many Malays, too shy to defend myself and my interests, or too polite to uphold my dignity against crassness and vulgarity. I have learnt their ways and they must pay the price for my having learnt the lessons they taught me so well.
British notions of racial superiority seem to have left their mark in all territories they once held. Once when I flew alone from Australia to Fiji, I was seated at the back of the B747 among South Sea islanders and Indian Australians. There was not a single white passenger at the back of the plane. It could not have been accidental that they were all seated in front. But on my return flight, the seating was very different. I was with members of the Committee of the Commonwealth Association, some of whom were white. It is hard to believe that it was mere coincidence that our seats were in front, where there were no South Sea islanders. The White Australia policy has officially been discarded but remnants of it still remain as demonstrated by the Cronulla incident of December 2005, when beachgoers with Arab features were attacked by white hooligans at the seaside in Sydney.
At the opposite end of the spectrum of criticism, I was once castigated by an Australian writer for censuring my own race and angering them. A Malay, he asserted, would not do this. He is, by and large, right. But I have learnt that in order to be heard on the global stage, different rules apply and you have to play by them. The rules of that game have required me to have the courage to speak up and not care too much about pleasing people, even those of my own race, when I speak my mind and say what I think I must. At times one must speak frankly, and without niceties, even to one’s fellow Malays. To reach them one must sometimes deliver a small shock, just to seize their attention. I have never wanted to lull the Malays into self-satisfaction and complacency. If one heaps accolades on people and say they are adept and able, when in fact they are not, they will make no effort to improve themselves and to rise to challenges. They will have no motivation or incentive to do so. A stern but caring rebuke can provide that motivation.
One simply cannot say all is well when it is not, when things are far from perfect. The NEP has largely been a success, and an impressive one. Today, many Malays have become successful in business and in the professions, and the Malay middle class has grown considerably. That said, when one considers the many opportunities made available to them, there ought to be a bigger percentage of successful Malays in our society by now. And there would have been, had they been prepared to work harder. I am personally ashamed when I hear of incidents in which Malays do not pay their debts, when they abuse the trust people place in them, when they sell the permits, licences and contracts made available to them by the Government through the NEP. Sadly,