The Doctor Will See You Now (And Never Leave)

Chapter 1 of Mahathirism: The Chosen one | Series: Of Leaders and Lore

Hello. I wanted to thank you for supporting my writing.

I hope you enjoy reading this, but before that, I wanted to let you know that this is a fictional, satirical autobiography of Tun Dr. Mahathir Mohamad, told as if he were confessing, but never apologising (because did he ever?). A statesman's diary laced with self-justification, soft gaslighting, and systemic rot. The book reads like a mirror turned on Malaysia, reflecting both his genius and the damage he left behind.

It’s not just a biography. It’s a regime dissection wearing a memoir’s mask.

I was not born to lead. I was born to win.

In a town that barely whispered, I learned to speak like thunder.

Not because I was brave but because silence was a luxury only the safe could afford. And in Malaysia, safety had a name and that name was never mine.

They Made Me. They say I ruled with an iron fist. But who forged the fist?

The British taught us that power wears a uniform. UMNO taught me it wears a songkok. And the rakyat? They taught me it only matters if it feeds the family.

Bread first. Truth later. So I gave them bread. Mega-projects. National pride. Cars that couldn’t sell but could symbolise. I made Malaysia visible. Even if it cost them sight.

I didn’t create Mahathirism. I perfected it. Authoritarianism, but make it digestible. Control, but with charisma. Censorship, but call it national harmony.

This Doctor Will See You Now.

They forget I was a physician.

I didn’t just diagnose the country — I medicated it.

With race. With fear. With economic morphine. The disease? Inferiority.

The prescription? Supremacy.

If Malays feared being left behind, I made sure the Chinese were always two steps ahead but just enough.

If the Chinese feared being sidelined, I let them hold the money but never the mic. Balance, some called it.

But I called it leverage. Because a divided nation is a ruled nation. And I ruled like a man who read the script then rewrote it.

God Was Optional. Loyalty Was Not.

I am not a pious man. I used religion when it was useful, like any other tool in my cabinet. PAS sang about the hereafter.

I built monuments in the now. I didn’t need sermons. I had skyscrapers.

And yet, every time I opened my mouth, they bowed. Not to me.

But to what I represented; a version of Malaysia that stood tall, even if it stood on the backs of the voiceless.

I Didn’t Trust the West. Because I Learned Too Much From Them. They colonised our land. I colonised minds. They drew borders. I drew narratives.

They said I was anti-West. But I wore Western suits. Flew Western planes.

Built a Western economy powered by Eastern submission.

They exported democracy. I imported discipline.

And in the end, they praised me. Because the markets love strongmen.

As long as the roads are smooth and the oil keeps flowing.

They feared me. They loved me. It was always going to be me.

Am I A Monster?

Only if you believe the other option was utopia. I made hard choices.

I crushed dissent. I jailed opponents. I created billionaires and buried whistleblowers. But I didn’t lie about who I was.

I am not Najib. I didn’t smile while stealing.

I told you I would rule. And I did. Twice.

You wanted a saviour. I gave you a surgeon. I operated on everything I could get my hands on. Don’t complain about the scars. This is just the beginning.

You asked me to confess. But remember,

A confession only stings if you believe you didn’t cheer for the villain.