Nurtured in such an environment, my father grew up with a high regard for the Confucian precept that “trustworthiness is close to righteousness”. That is why he derived greater satisfaction from his reputation for intellect, integrity and incorruptibility than from the fact that his 15-year tenure as Finance Minister was record-breaking in its length.
As finance minister, he refused to allow my mother to subscribe for shares offered in an initial public offering (IPO). To avoid allegations of preferential treatment, my mother suggested she could apply for the IPO shares in her maiden name. My father vetoed the idea. The wife of the Minister of Finance, he said, should avoid giving even the appearance of a conflict of interest.
Not surprisingly, corruption was a concern frequently articulated in my father’s speeches.
“Nothing can be more depressing and self-destroying than to see significant sums of income-generating capital leaking through the cracks of corruption, while the people continue to be deprived of the fruits of economic development,” he said (in a speech entitled The Need for Dedicated Civil Servants, delivered in February 1968).
As finance minister, my father regarded himself as a trustee of public funds. For this reason, he was extremely tight-fisted with government expenditure. Occasionally, the result was personal discomfort. A few streetwise wives of Malaysian ambassadors realised the best way to emphasise the need for more funds to refurbish an embassy was to let my father sit on the most decrepit chair available!