Review by SUHAINI AZNAM
Yes, every Malaysian knows Tunku Abdul Rahman. But do we know his jokes, his regrets and the amazing connections he made with people? This book offers a never-before-seen side of the man provided by those closest to him.
PRINCE AMONG MEN
Recollections and Reflections on Tunku Abdul Rahman Putra
Edited by Prabhakaran S. Nair
Publisher: National Archives, 494 pages
(ISBN: 978-9679121038)
IT was a painstaking labour of love spanning two years that saw Prince Among Men – Recollections and Reflections on Tunku Abdul Rahman Putra in print. Fifty of those who knew him best – his friends, colleagues and the family who stood by him through all seasons – wrote from the heart.
The book is a rich collection of personal anecdotes, many stamped with Tunku‘s incomparable brand of humour.
Each of the chapters introduces the writer through a short biography, followed by a full-page photograph of the Tunku with the author on the next page. Where these were unavailable, the author provided a photograph of him or herself with a close relative of the Tunku.
The idea of a written tribute to her ‘Ayah Tam‘ came from his niece, Tunku Datuk Dr Sofiah Jewa as early as 1997. Ayah Tam, she recalled, had attended her call to the Bar 37 years ago, together with her husband and partner in their law firm, Datuk Dr Yaacob Hussain Merican. Among her early memories of him when he was already Prime Minister and she just setting out for Britain was the 10 pounds Sterling he handed her in a packet and the invitations to meals at the Residency (the Prime Minister‘s residence).
History comes alive in these 494 pages. It is a tale of the birth of a nation, its struggles, its tears, racial rivalries and compromises, as well as the bonds of friendship and respect that bound Malaya‘s, and then Malaysia‘s, leaders together.
It is a story of the many facets of a man who led by unerring intuition.
Former Lord President Tun Mohamed Suffian Hashim provides an insight into Tunku‘s life as a ‘born-again student‘, where many fellow Malaysians enjoyed his avuncular company and hospitality. ‘Once I said to him that he seemed to have a lot of money and he said he did not, he inherited a few shop houses in Penang from his mother and when he ran out he would tell a friend in Penang to sell another shop house.‘
Datuk Ahmad Othman Merican, then with Radio Malaya, throws light on the origins of the Negara Ku, ‘anthemised‘ at the Tunku‘s insistence from the sentimental Terang Bulan, the theme song of the 1940s Malay Bangsawan.
Other contributors highlight Tunku‘s pan-Malaysian worldview.
Lawyer Datuk P.G. Lim discusses the cobbling together of the Constitution ‘to provide a sense of security for the Malays, as well as security for minority communities or groups‘. She gives specific examples of the Tunku‘s humanity and compassion. She then provides an invaluable verbatim account of the Baling Talks with Malayan Communist Party leader Chin Peng – surely a first for readers below the age of 40.
For veteran politician Tengku Razaleigh Hamzah, the Tunku was a living role model ‘all the more profound by virtue of our common royal heritage.... If he could do it I saw no reason why I should not at least try‘.
‘Ayah (father) was a Malay gentleman who was steeped in adat (tradition),‘ described Tengku Razaleigh. He wore the traditional baju Melayu, wrote in Jawi, wore his songkok, danced the joget or ronggeng, listened to traditional Malay music and beautifully intoned the prayer in Arabic.
Tellingly, he had two regrets from his years as Prime Minister: that he had acceded ‘to the wish of the Sultans that matters regarding land be made part of the State List and the other was to not have provided for press freedom‘.
‘With hindsight, the first, it would appear, increased avenues for corruption and the second stymied the means to curb it effectively. He said that without a free press, active public opinion, you cannot avoid having a dictator in this country.‘
Much has been said elsewhere of the Tunku‘s integrity, his dignity and charisma but here readers also get a close-up of the warm-hearted persona.
Tengku Budriah Tengku Ismail, the Raja Perempuan Besar of Perlis, recalled that the Tunku had never wanted Almarhum Tuanku Syed Putra Jamalullail and herself to make an official visit to the United States, indirectly giving them ‘a taste of what it was like to visit a county as an ordinary person, without any protocol‘.
She narrated a phone conversation between her late husband and an American who laboured under a fairly common misconception about Malaysians‘ fluency in English. ‘He spoke to the King by pausing after each syllable and after every word, and asked at the end of the sentence: Do ... you ... under ... stand ... me...?‘
‘The King had to explain to him diplomatically who we were and where we came from. The King (then) overheard him remark to his wife over the phone: Darling, he speaks better English than we do...!‘
In this, she noted, the two Putras not only shared ‘the ability to laugh at themselves but they would also allow others to have some fun at their own expense‘.
The reader is drawn into the family when a few authors, especially those of royal descent, refer to the Tunku as Ayah, the polite and proper contraction of the Malay word ayahanda.
The Yang di-Pertuan Besar of Negri Sembilan, Tuanku Ja‘afar ibni Almarhum Tuanku Abdul Rahman, recounts Ayah‘s salutary solution to Tun (V.T.) Sambanthan‘s preferred attire of dhoti and scarf, even to dinner at Sir Gerald Templer‘s house. In Ayah‘s own words:
‘I said nothing, but as soon as we entered the house, I removed the scarf from Sambanthan‘s shoulder and politely handed it to Lady Templer as a present from us all. At first Lady Templer refused to accept it but Sambanthan in all good humour, said ‘Yes, it is for you‘. It was after that incident that he began wearing a suit with a fashionable London tie and shirt.‘
Despite its dimensions and quality, glossy paper, this is no coffee-table book. Rather, it is a unique combination of essays and some very nice black-and-white photographs, many rarely seen before, thanks to the National Archives, individual contributors, and the family‘s private collection, selected and arranged by Dr Yaacob.
The book may be hefty at almost 500 pages of text and illustrations, but its first-hand narrative style, very lightly edited, makes it both a good source of historical data and, for those who appreciate history, enjoyable reading.
The book, edited by Prabhakaran S. Nair, is published by the National Archives and retails at RM180 (hard cover with box), RM140 (hard cover) and RM120 (soft cover). It will be available soon at major bookstores nationwide.
Source: www.thestar.com (6 Agustus 2007)