Goodbye Tun Samy Vellu

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He was arguably the most colourful politician in Malaysia. Striding like a peacock or a lion, he made his presence felt wherever he went, exuding panache.
During what is known as the Indonesian confrontation (1963 to 1966) when Sukarno sent forces to attack the newly formed Malaysia, a young S Samy Vellu not only joined protesters who marched to the Indonesian embassy but also climbed up the building and removed the Indonesian flag.
He later recounted being charged in court and fined $25. He was called a hero in some Malaysian dailies.
That brashness was with him all through his life in politics and until his health deteriorated after he stepped down as MIC president in 2010, after serving 31 years at the helm of the party.
And now he is gone.
Samy Vellu, who was born on March 8, 1936, died about 8am on Sept 15, just a day before Malaysia Day.
“I’m not sure if in another 1,000 years we will have another Datuk Seri Samy Vellu,” then prime minister Najib Razak said in launching a biography of the former Cabinet minister in December 2013.
I don’t know if Najib meant it, but as someone who covered him as a journalist, I’d agree with the sentiment.
Dr Mahathir Mohamad, who was prime minister during most of the years that Samy Vellu was a minister, said in 1999: “Truly, Samy is not a politician who can be easily matched. He is courageous, vocal and, without being shy or hesitant, voices his views in a straight-forward manner, an open manner, even though sometimes it is controversial.
“Other than his ability to lead an important ministry, we acknowledge his ability over the years to bring progress to the Indian community so that it can be on the same standing as the other races.”
But then again, years later, in 2009, it was the same Mahathir who urged Samy Vellu to resign as MIC president, saying: “If he resigns, MIC will be given a new lease of life.”
Najib, at the book launch, also said: “He has a unique style. Whenever he says something, it is not what he says but how he says it. He never fails to raise the issue of the Indian community at Cabinet meetings.”
Indeed, in my little chats with ministers now and then in earlier years, I heard how Samy Vellu always had something to say at Cabinet meetings, and that he was one of two persons – the other being Rafidah Aziz – who were not only highly opinionated but who were not intimidated by then prime minister Mahathir.
Cabinet ministers told me he would “introduce Indian culture” to them by treating them to banana leaf rice now and then and by bringing Indian finger food such as “murukku” to Cabinet meetings or sharing “Indian stories” with them.
Some of these ministers, therefore, could not understand why some Indians, including MIC members, could claim that Samy Vellu was not doing his job as the sole minister representing the Indians or as MIC president.
One minister described him to me in the eighties as “indefatigable” and “constantly raising issues about the Indians”.
I myself felt there was only so much that Samy Vellu could do as he was the only Indian minister and every Indian in the nation who had a major problem would want to seek him out. But some MIC members and observers said he didn’t press for two MIC ministers as that would erode his position in the party; which may be true.
Mahathir, at the 1999 MIC AGM which I covered, said the government had “managed to help the Indian community even though the party only had one minister in the Cabinet as Samy Vellu always fought for the rights of the community at Cabinet meetings”.
But it was not easy. Very often, what he asked for was not given or attended to. In my several chats with him in the 1980s and 1990s, he would talk about some of his frustrations, if something or other had happened to set him off.
Samy Vellu had expressed frustration over being unable to do more for the Indian community and especially for not being able to get the government to approve special plans or major allocations to help Indians in business.
For instance, when he asked that Tamil primary schools be treated the same as national schools and that allocations be given to build or repair Tamil schools, he was told the matter was very simple: agree to turn Tamil schools into national schools and everything will be taken care of.
When he asked that Tamil be made a regular subject at secondary level for Indian students, it was rejected. He was told the current system of Pupils Own Language classes was good enough. But if the Indian community was willing to allow the closure of Tamil schools, Tamil as a subject could be made compulsory for Indian students at secondary level.
Once, talking about Hindu temple demolitions, he lamented that he had to do fire-fighting each time something happened as the government appeared reluctant to adopt any concrete nationwide plan or measure.
“Each time something happens, I have to call the prime minister or the state’s menteri besar to stop or delay the demolition and to get the authorities to discuss the matter with the local temple officials.
“Mahathir always obliges when I call him. He has no problem with temples and wants such issues to be resolved properly. It is the civil servants, local politicians and developers who have a problem with it, often using the excuse that the temples had not been registered, when many of these temples were built long before independence or with the permission of the then owners,” he told me.
But most ordinary MIC members, and the scores of people who would daily queue up to see him, were not aware of the problems he faced in convincing the Cabinet or civil servants about issues pertaining to the Indian community.
To everyone, from the time he became MIC president till the time he retired, the MIC was Samy Vellu and Samy Vellu was the MIC. He was the voice of both the party and the community and he was expected to speak up and work for the community’s upliftment.
I had been told by MIC leaders and one of Samy Vellu’s former aides, Netta, that every day, without fail, there would be a line of people waiting to see him at his office and at his house. He’d also arranged for a day every week, I think it was Thursdays but I’m not certain, where those with problems could meet him at the MIC headquarters.
I was told he would attend to everyone who came to his house no matter the time of night. Of course, he would often scold those who came too early or too late, and sometimes even shout at some of them for something or other, but he would always listen and try to help.
I’ve seen Samy Vellu get angry and I can tell you I wouldn’t want to make him angry. He can go ballistic. There are many stories about how he would challenge MIC members who argued too much with him to “take it outside, man to man”. Once I heard of an incident when he walked down the stage and started unbuttoning his long sleeves but was held back by his supporters. However, I was unable to verify this.
I have heard him say, “They want to challenge me? They don’t know about Sanglimuthu’s son.” That was his father’s name. “I know how to dress smartly and I also know how to wrestle in mud.”
He ran a tight ship and woe betide his opponents. He would manoeuvre them out of posts using his vast support base or he would simply sack them or close down their branches.
Whatever you say about the man, the MIC was strong during his leadership and it had a certain amount of public respect, unlike now when hardly anyone outside the MIC really cares about the party. Most Indians wouldn’t shed a tear if the MIC were to be dissolved tomorrow.
When he was around, you knew MIC was alive; he made sure of that with his garrulity, his sense of dressing, his oozing confidence and his gaffes or slips when speaking in Bahasa Malaysia.
The uncrowned king of the Indian community was almost everywhere, and was at home in any situation or area. He was adored by many, hated by some and feared by his opponents.
At the same time, because of the way he spoke Bahasa Malaysia, and some of his mannerisms, he was the butt of many jokes, which he took sportingly, except if it came from one of his MIC opponents.
Talking about the comic scene in the US and Malaysia in March 2013, comedian Douglas Lim said the US public didn’t like stand-up comedians who made political jokes as this was overdone on US television.
“But here? All you do is mention Samy Vellu’s name, and people think it’s damned funny,” he told The Star.
Even in February, during the invasion of Ukraine by Russia, a video clip which included an image of Samy Vellu gesturing and uttering some strong words, was in circulation. An accompanying comment said he was the only one who could stop the war.
Even if it was said in fun, it did bring out an element, a characteristic of the man: he was never afraid of any battle. He’d shoot from the hips and wade right in. That was Samy Vellu for you.
Goodbye, Tun Samy Vellu. We’ll miss you. - FMT
The views expressed are those of the writer and do not necessarily reflect those of MMKtT.

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