Sixteen Years On, Back in the Prime Minister's Office, Mahathir Held Our Old Photo and Said: "Look — my hair was all black back then!"
In May 2018, Mahathir, aged 92, won Malaysia's general election. The historic records are easy to list: the end of 61 years of Barisan Nasional's monopoly, Malaysia's first-ever transfer of power, the oldest elected head of state in the world.
But none of those records is what was truly astonishing about this election. What was astonishing is that he did something the Mahathir of 30 years earlier would never have chosen to do.
He allied with Anwar, the political rival he had personally sent to prison. He worked with Lim Kit Siang, the opposition leader he had once purged. He welded four mutually hostile opposition parties into the Pakatan Harapan coalition. He tore down, with his own hands, the political structure he himself had laid 30 years before.
After the win, two lines circulated in Malaysia's press: "Mahathir defeated Mahathir." "Mahathir overcame the Mahathir barrier." Meaning: the biggest obstacle to this political reversal wasn't the ruling party, wasn't then-PM Najib — it was the set of rules the Mahathir of 30 years ago had built.
And the way he got around that obstacle was a line he later distilled himself: "Unite the secondary enemy to defeat the primary enemy."
I've heard many political commentators analyze that line. Few make clear how hard it is in practice. Let me tell you the part I saw.
In July 2018, I walked into the Malaysian Prime Minister's office to interview Mahathir for the second time — exactly 16 years after I first walked through that door. It is the only record in the history of the Republic of China of a journalist entering the Malaysian PM's office to interview a sitting premier twice; and the only record in the world of a journalist interviewing the same sitting prime minister in the same office 16 years apart.
The first time was 2002. That year I attended the World Economic Forum, was selected as an "Asian Young Leader," and was invited to the East Asia Summit in Kuala Lumpur. Mahathir was then 77, 21 years in power. The contrast between the two visits let me observe something up close: how much of the structure a single person built, that same person can tear down within 30 years. And this observation applies far beyond politics.
"Unite the secondary enemy to defeat the primary enemy" sounds, in political science, like a basic strategy. But in practice it has three layers of difficulty, from shallow to deep.
First difficulty: identifying who the secondary enemy is. During his 22 years in power (1981–2003), Mahathir did one thing — he sent Anwar, the deputy prime minister he had promoted all the way up, to prison on charges of sodomy and corruption. Anwar served six years. By the ordinary political ledger, Anwar should have been one of Mahathir's "primary enemies." But in 2018, to bring down the Najib regime, Mahathir made a re-classification: he moved Anwar from "primary enemy" back to "secondary enemy." Why? Because he redefined what the primary enemy was. The primary enemy was no longer "the person who hurt me in the past," but "the structure now blocking the nation's transformation." Change the definition, and the whole topology of friend and foe changes. Many companies in structural deadlock have this same problem — they can't tell who the primary enemy is. They treat the department that once hurt them as the enemy, when that department is no longer a threat. What actually threatens them is a structural shift in the market, a generational change in technology, or a fiercer outside competitor. Identifying the primary enemy is the start of strategy, not the end.
Second difficulty: letting go of the legitimacy you yourself built. From 1981 to 2003, over 22 years, Mahathir built an entire political structure — a strongman style, a Malay-first racial policy, the power distribution of Barisan Nasional. That structure was his political legacy. In 2018, when he wanted back on the field, that structure became his own obstacle. The act of sending Anwar to prison became, 30 years later, the greatest historical baggage he carried in trying to win the man back. He chose to acknowledge it. He chose to sit down and ally with Anwar. He chose to say to the whole country in a campaign ad: "I want to exhaust every means to make up for the mistakes of the past, and rebuild our nation!" For a 92-year-old who had been a strongman premier, that is a politically suicidal confession. But he said it. For corporate leaders, this layer is harder still. When your company is locked in structural deadlock because of the things you once did right — you're the founder, the success story of the last 20 years, the author of the current deadlock — can you admit, in front of everyone, that your past judgment no longer applies? Many CEOs can't. They keep defending their past decisions, because that is the source of their legitimacy. Mahathir could. That is the key to still winning at 92.
Third difficulty: sitting back down with the person you fought. This is the hardest. Identifying the secondary enemy is analysis. Admitting you were wrong is public relations. Forming a governing coalition with the person you personally sent to prison is execution. And execution takes both sides. Anwar had to be willing too. After Mahathir purged him, Anwar served six years; in 2015 he was jailed a second time on the same kind of charge, for five years — about ten years in all. When Anwar was Prime Minister in Waiting, I interviewed him. What he said to my face, in October 2019, I remember to this day: "Move on! Forget the past!" Behind those words are ten years in prison, a ruined political career, ruined years with his family. But he chose to move on. This was a choice both men made. If either had declined, the alliance would not exist. The same logic holds for structural transformation inside a company — you can't just count on yourself changing; the other side has to be willing to change too. Rebuilding an alliance is a two-sided choice.
That day in July 2018, I gave Mahathir my book, Facing Presidents. He signed and returned his, A Doctor in the House. At 92, his hand was still clear and firm. He looked at our photo from 2002 and laughed: "Oh, look — my hair was all black back then!"
Looking at that 2002 photo, what I thought about wasn't time. It was a question: if the Mahathir of 2002 and the Mahathir of 2018 sat down together, would they argue? The answer is certainly yes. Because every key decision the 2018 Mahathir made — allying with Anwar, working with Lim Kit Siang, tearing down the structure he built — the 2002 Mahathir would never have agreed to. But that is exactly the core of the 2018 victory. He didn't continue his judgment of 30 years ago. He overturned it.
Back to companies, to organizations, to any scene locked in structural deadlock — these three layers are the same set: identify who the real primary enemy is (often not the person or department you think). Admit that the structure you built is now the obstacle (even if it once made you successful). Sit back down with the person you fought (which needs the other side to move on too). The first layer is strategy. The second is character. The third is execution. Pass all three, and you can still win at 92 — and a company locked in internal deadlock can find its next ten years.
As the interview ended, the crowd outside chanted: "Tun! Tun! Long life!" In Malaysia, "Tun" is the highest honorific. Walking out of the office, I thought about one thing: at 92, he could still redefine who was friend and who was foe. So why not at 50, 60, 70? In his 2018 campaign ad, Mahathir defined this victory himself, in one line: "I never truly retired!"