15. Conductor of an Orchestra
My ministers and I remained friends and political colleagues for three to four
decades. Several of us had been together since we met as students in England to
discuss the future of Malaya and Singapore, then returned home and worked
together to build mass support in the trade unions and in the PAP. Our
commitment to a common cause and to each other was deep. We had abiding
political convictions, or we would not have undertaken the risk of challenging
both the British and the communists at the same time, and later the Malay Ultras.
The strongest bonds that bound us were forged during our early struggles when
often we looked like being swept away by overwhelming forces. Differences on
policy we kept within the cabinet until we had resolved them and reached a
consensus. Then we would put forth a clear line which people could understand
and accept. Once a decision had been taken in cabinet, we made a point of
abiding by it.
We knew each other’s strong and weak points, and worked well as a team.
When the old guard ministers were in agreement the rest in the cabinet would
usually concur. I had an easy relationship with my colleagues. I was able to put
my views on matters within their portfolios without ruffling their feathers. At the
end of the day, they knew that I would have to stand before the voters to
persuade them to give us a mandate for another term and I needed a convincing
case to present.
Running a government is not unlike conducting an orchestra. No prime
minister can achieve much without an able team. While he himself need not be a
great player, he has to know enough of the principal instruments from the violin
to the cello to the French horn and the flute, or he would not know what he can
expect from each of them. My style was to appoint the best man I had to be in
charge of the most important ministry at that period, usually finance, except at
independence when defence became urgent. That man was Goh Keng Swee. The
next best would get the next most important portfolio. I would tell the minister
what I wanted him to achieve, and leave him to get on with the task; it was
management by objective. It worked best when the minister was resourceful and
could innovate when faced with new, unexpected problems. My involvement in
their ministries would be only on questions of policy.
All the same I had to know enough about their portfolios to intervene from
time to time on issues I thought important – a fledgling airline, an airport
extension, traffic jams, dispersal of communal enclaves, raising the academic
performance of our Malays, and law and order. Some interventions were crucial,
and things might have gone wrong had I not intervened. Ultimately,
responsibility for a government’s failure rests with the prime minister.
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