A Doctor in The House: A Memoir of Tun Dr Mahathir Mohamad Read Online Free
Author: Tun Dr Mahathir Mohamad
people connected them to my name, my children built their lives and careers on their own.
Just as I drew moral instruction from my father and mother, my children have also drawn moral guidance from me. Or so I hope. Of all the lessons I hope they have learnt, the most important is not to abuse their position. In the case of my own family most of the public focus is on Mirzan because he sold his company to MISC, which belongs to PETRONAS, which in turn is under the Government’s control. But my children did not rely on me to solve their problems. Mirzan handled his himself, as I will relate in a later chapter.
My vision for Malaysia and the policies my administration created were for everybody, not just for a politically-connected elite or a small circle of my own family and friends. I never even gave my children one cent of capital—all I gave them was a good education, a chance to develop and make something of themselves in life. They never asked me for anything and didn’t even tell me about the business that they did. We did not discuss business or politics with each other. Politics and public policy was not for them to know. It was always clearly understood among us all: that I was busy with the country and their troubles were their own.
The truth was that, from the moment I became Prime Minister, I ceased to belong to my family. They accepted that as Prime Minister I could not spend time with them or be overly occupied with their problems. It was the same for their mother too. Hasmah never complained if I didn’t come home, or was late, or was not paying sufficient attention to the family or the house, both of which she managed. She and the children understood that if they had problems, they might go to her for help, but not to me.
I would not abuse the power that I had, nor did I want them to abuse their connection to me. I often said just that and they knew what I meant. They grew up and matured during the time I was Prime Minister. Even when they went to university, I never asked the Government for scholarships. Earlier Mirzan received a scholarship when I was not in the Government, when I was expelled from UMNO and well before I became a Minister. He got a MARA [4] scholarship on his own merit. He was one of a handful of Malay students who were selected to study in private schools in the UK to expose them to a different culture.
As for other values like consistency, punctuality and reliability, I would tell them they should not behave like children of wealthy parents. When I talked about my school days, about walking to school and the like, they would get bored. Perhaps they will read these pages, especially my recollection of my parents and my own childhood, and find something of interest to them. Perhaps they will learn something that will help explain their father, or some aspects of his character, a little more clearly to them, or perhaps an insight that they in turn may pass on to their own children. There are always lessons to be learnt, if only we have the wisdom to see them.
ENDNOTES
[ 1 ] A state in the north of Peninsular Malaysia.
[ 2 ] In Malay, putih means “white”.
[ 3 ] My father married my mother after the death of his first wife.
[ 4 ] Majlis Amanah Rakyat, a government agency that aids Bumiputera participation in the economy.
Chapter 3: I Am A Malay
I am well aware that my ethnic origin has been the subject of much animated debate. Some claim that my father was Malayalee and was fluent in both Tamil and Malayalam. Some have even written that he was a Hindu who converted to Islam to marry my mother. Others say they have seen documents clearly stating my ethnicity. I admit that some Indian, or more accurately South Asian, blood flows in my veins, but from which part of the Indian subcontinent my ancestors came I do not know. Malays in the past did not keep track of their lineage, although most of those with Arab blood can trace their roots to Yemen and know which
Just as I drew moral instruction from my father and mother, my children have also drawn moral guidance from me. Or so I hope. Of all the lessons I hope they have learnt, the most important is not to abuse their position. In the case of my own family most of the public focus is on Mirzan because he sold his company to MISC, which belongs to PETRONAS, which in turn is under the Government’s control. But my children did not rely on me to solve their problems. Mirzan handled his himself, as I will relate in a later chapter.
My vision for Malaysia and the policies my administration created were for everybody, not just for a politically-connected elite or a small circle of my own family and friends. I never even gave my children one cent of capital—all I gave them was a good education, a chance to develop and make something of themselves in life. They never asked me for anything and didn’t even tell me about the business that they did. We did not discuss business or politics with each other. Politics and public policy was not for them to know. It was always clearly understood among us all: that I was busy with the country and their troubles were their own.
The truth was that, from the moment I became Prime Minister, I ceased to belong to my family. They accepted that as Prime Minister I could not spend time with them or be overly occupied with their problems. It was the same for their mother too. Hasmah never complained if I didn’t come home, or was late, or was not paying sufficient attention to the family or the house, both of which she managed. She and the children understood that if they had problems, they might go to her for help, but not to me.
I would not abuse the power that I had, nor did I want them to abuse their connection to me. I often said just that and they knew what I meant. They grew up and matured during the time I was Prime Minister. Even when they went to university, I never asked the Government for scholarships. Earlier Mirzan received a scholarship when I was not in the Government, when I was expelled from UMNO and well before I became a Minister. He got a MARA [4] scholarship on his own merit. He was one of a handful of Malay students who were selected to study in private schools in the UK to expose them to a different culture.
As for other values like consistency, punctuality and reliability, I would tell them they should not behave like children of wealthy parents. When I talked about my school days, about walking to school and the like, they would get bored. Perhaps they will read these pages, especially my recollection of my parents and my own childhood, and find something of interest to them. Perhaps they will learn something that will help explain their father, or some aspects of his character, a little more clearly to them, or perhaps an insight that they in turn may pass on to their own children. There are always lessons to be learnt, if only we have the wisdom to see them.
ENDNOTES
[ 1 ] A state in the north of Peninsular Malaysia.
[ 2 ] In Malay, putih means “white”.
[ 3 ] My father married my mother after the death of his first wife.
[ 4 ] Majlis Amanah Rakyat, a government agency that aids Bumiputera participation in the economy.
Chapter 3: I Am A Malay
I am well aware that my ethnic origin has been the subject of much animated debate. Some claim that my father was Malayalee and was fluent in both Tamil and Malayalam. Some have even written that he was a Hindu who converted to Islam to marry my mother. Others say they have seen documents clearly stating my ethnicity. I admit that some Indian, or more accurately South Asian, blood flows in my veins, but from which part of the Indian subcontinent my ancestors came I do not know. Malays in the past did not keep track of their lineage, although most of those with Arab blood can trace their roots to Yemen and know which
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