Malaysian Maverick: Mahathir Mohamad in Turbulent Times by Barry Wain (fantasy novels to read .TXT) 📕

went through, the electoral authorities could not redraw the boundaries, and they might not be ready for the next general election. Among the other bills the king was ignoring to make his point was one containing the 1984 budget appropriations, which needed to be approved soon or the government would shut down.

The public, which had no knowledge of the stalemate for a couple of months, learned of it through an open letter by Senu Abdul Rahman, an UMNO veteran and former cabinet minister, who wrote to Dr. Mahathir opposing the amendments. Malay and English versions of his letter were widely distributed, sparking the sort of grass-roots ferment that Dr. Mahathir had sought to avoid. Tunku Abdul Rahman joined in the criticism in his weekly newspaper column. He declared that the bill contravened "one of the most important articles of our Constitution" — the one requiring Conference of Rulers consent for any law affecting the sultans.[38] Having rejected a personal appeal by Dr. Mahathir, the defiant rulers convened on 20 November at the court of the Sultan of Selangor, named Heavenly Hill Palace, in an ostentatious show of tradition and modernity to consider a compromise proposal delivered by an UMNO delegation:

It was a uniquely Malaysian gathering of the clans. The sultan of Perak packed a pistol on his hip and wore green combat fatigues and a red beret. The man who could be Malaysia's next king gave a jaunty clenched-first salute as he popped out of his Mercedes. The sultan of Johore, another ruler fond of firearms and the Perak sultan's main rival for the kingship, preferred more formal officer's dress. For security he traveled in a jet-black army sedan with blacked-out windows and brought along a special escort with a sub-machine gun. The sultan of Trengganu rolled up in an elongated golden Cadillac equipped with a television antenna in the shape of water buffalo horns. The raja of Perlis, a portly man in a rumpled beige suit, arrived in a more traditional chariot, a powder-blue Rolls Royce...[39]

Even before the rulers voted down the revisions, Dr. Mahathir reversed course and appealed directly to the public. His hastily assembled Plan B involved persuading the royalty that the vast majority of the Malays backed the legislation, and the rulers risked their prestige by resisting the tide. Dr. Mahathir and other leaders addressed rallies organized by UMNO that sought to evoke the spirit of the anti-Malayan Union campaign, with its overtones of the people coming to the rescue after royal perfidy. Party cheerleaders with bullhorns adapted the old battle cry "Hidup Melayu" for the new imperative "Hidup Mahathir".[40]

Where the press had obediently remained silent earlier, the papers now carried articles explaining the necessity of the constitutional amendments and reporting a groundswell of government support across the country. In fact, the Malay community was almost evenly split, with rural and elderly people — and women particularly — sympathetic to the monarchy. Royalists sponsored their own rallies, which were much better attended than the controlled press reported. The differences showed up within UMNO's senior ranks, with a party vice president and at least two cabinet ministers siding silently with the sultans.[41] Although he revelled in the rallies, Dr. Mahathir had uncomfortable moments. Criticized by sections of UMNO for being autocratic and ignoring traditions of consultation and consensus building, he was forced to deny that he would resign. Dr. Siti Hasmah noticed the tell-tale signs of stress in her husband, a reddening in the eye, and feared for his safety as large and enthusiastic crowds surged around him at meetings throughout the country. For the first and only time in his political career, she said, "both eyes were red".[42]

A settlement reached in early December was a compromise that pleased nobody beyond the relief it brought that the five-month confrontation had ended. In an embarrassing retreat, the government allowed the king to retain the formal right to declare an emergency, while the sultans' obligations to assent to state legislation were left unchanged, though they undertook orally not to block bills without reasonable cause. In his attempt to remove royal assent to legislation passed by Parliament, Dr. Mahathir actually gave the king an explicit legislative role for the first time.[43] Under the compromise, the king could no longer block legislation by refusing to sign it into law, though he would be able to delay it for at least two months. Once legislation was passed by Parliament, the king would have 30 days to sign it. If he objected to the bill within that period, he could return it to Parliament with a statement of his reasons for further consideration. If Parliament then reaffirmed support for the measure, it would be resubmitted to the king and automatically would become law after another 30 days. Money bills, an exception, would become law automatically after the initial 30-day period.

Government leaders could call the agreement a "triumph of rationality" and political maturity that did not favour either side, but it fell far short in Dr. Mahathir's terms.[44] While he gained a crucial legal point — depriving the king of the power to thwart the elected leadership by refusing to sign legislation — his victory was incomplete. Certainly it had not solved the problem of constitutional impropriety at state level, where it was acute. Politically, the episode dented Dr. Mahathir's standing, though if adversaries expected him to retreat, they still had much to learn about their leader. For someone of Dr. Mahathir's temperament and convictions, it was a case of unfinished business.

Although the government feared the worst when Sultan Mahmood Iskandar was made king in 1984, after Sultan Idris Shah died on the eve of the electoral conclave, he and Dr. Mahathir learned to coexist amicably after a few early bumps. The new king made a positive start by donating his and the queen's federal salaries to charity. He confirmed his eccentricity by refusing to live at the national palace in Kuala Lumpur, preferring the official residence provided by the state of Johore.