By Mahbob Abdullah
A FEW days ago I had the chance to take my mind off our current headlines when I discovered a book published this year on the late Tan Sri Abdul Kadir Shamsuddin who reached the top of his profession as the head of the civil service. I read it, and decided to write a review of the book on the man who had helped change my life. I had met him only a couple of times.
The first time was when he was on the selection board of the Federation Military College in 1958 in Port Dickson, and I was among the students who had passed the obstacle course, and crawling under the barbed wires, and the physical and written tests. Now I sat in front of a row of interviewers, mainly British officers, and the man sitting in the middle was a Malayan official, of medium height, exuding a quiet confidence and warmth.
In that hall I lost my nervousness when he asked me as I was from Rembau, Negeri Sembilan, if I would know anything about the customs of Adat Perpatih, brought from West Sumatra. I said I did, and went into a long story about my role in a school play on that topic. I had a small part. The play was fresh in my mind, and I did not know if I had talked too much. But the way I launched into the story must have done it. I got to live in a boarding school, with a huge library and full facilities for sports and games and military training. Many of the tutors were from Sandhurst in the UK. Studying in that college gave me more opportunities in my later years.
The second time was when he came to the college, then moved to Sungei Besi, and I saw him seated in the rows of mainly British military officers in their mess jackets for the special evening of college boxing competition. He was a self-assured figure who had the respect of everybody. I won the winner’s cup for my weight class and I was awestruck when I received it from him. His son, Shamsul Qamar who had joined the college, also won a cup. He fought like a bull. He had the same smile and warmth, except when he was in the ring.
Kadir was born in 1920 and from his early days in Kajang, his English teachers had spotted his ability. They guided him so that he got the chance to do his studies including in Singapore, interrupted only by the war. He was with many other Malaysians including Tun Abdul Razak Hussein. On his return he joined the government, and independence was still some years away.
The British had a way of preparing their colonies for independence better than most, as I could see from my travels. They would set in place the systems of government, education, economy and defence. Kadir had joined the civil service at a time of change for the country. His training went on. He got the Queen’s scholarship to go to Bristol University. He went on attachment to War Office and attended Imperial Defence College. Later he went to Yale University on a Fulbright programme.
When it was time for talks on independence he was in the team helping Razak, who had complete trust in him through their days in Singapore. As defence minister, Razak had him in the ministry, and it was Kadir’s job as permanent secretary to build up the army, navy and air force, to cope with the changes.
It was a time of new threats as well, as the Indonesian Confrontation came up in 1963. Kadir had a key role to see it ended through the friendship he had built through his student days with Indonesians who became leading figures in their government. He was very good in building friendship and that worked out well when it came to healing the rifts among countries. At home the same trait had helped him find a way to resolve many issues among the military figures, who were selected for their strong characters.
I had left the college and followed my career in the plantations but even from the newspapers I received in remote areas I would still follow his progress. He had turned down positions in politics. He became the chief secretary to the government later on, which was of course the apex of a civil servant’s career. He had reached there not only through his own ability, but also with help from mentors, from his early days in school, to Razak who trusted his judgment completely. At the same time he had guided many young Malaysians, those who shared the same values, integrity, hard work, reliability, and decisiveness, and we have seen them on the national stage over the years, in a class of their own.
One of them, Tun Ahmad Sarji writes his tribute in the book, saying Kadir was an administrative genius, quick thinking, and very fair. Tan Sri Ramon Navaratnam described him as the epitome of the ideal civil servant, one with dedication, loyalty and integrity.
There were many more praises, all of which would show that Kadir had a gift of working with people, not only with his bosses, but also with his peers. In addition, he had sound judgment in the choice of people to work with him that many rose in rank and were held in high regard by the public. They were among the pantheon of outstanding civil servants of those days, and some had served under both the colonial and independent governments.
With the transition, Kadir could see the need to build human capital, and made special effort in the ministry of defence. He had also put together Universiti Pertanian Malaysia and helped set up Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia. He had a role in many other organisations such as Petroliam Nasional Malaysia (Petronas) where he was the CEO and chairman in 1976 after his retirement from civil service.
He died at the age of 58.
The book has a readable style, and you will find it has very good references, with dates and an index. It has 363 pages. Many eminent figures have contributed their recollection of Tan Sri Kadir Shamsuddin, and in my mind his story is about a piece of history.
His son, Dr Shamsul Baharin Kadir in his message, had mentioned it was his father’s unfulfilled wish to write his memoirs. – April 13, 2020
Mahbob Abdullah is a former planter
