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Stagnating yields, unyielding profits: The political economy of Malaysia's rice sector

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  16 January 2018

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Abstract

Since the 2008 rice crisis, Malaysia's rice policies have been caught between government efforts to raise production and its support of the country's monopoly rice importer (Bernas). This article argues that when the politics behind the country's policies are revealed, the paradox is more apparent than real. The three principal policy components — gratifying Barisan Nasional's coalition partners in East Malaysia by expanding the acreage devoted to rice; buttressing the rural Malay economy by providing subsidies through a yield-enhancing programme; and relying on big business for financial support (Bernas's new owner is one of Malaysia's richest businessmen) — aim to serve the same end: to perpetuate UMNO's political power amid increasing electoral competition.

Type
Research Article
Copyright
Copyright © The National University of Singapore 2018 

Since food politics is a multi-dimensional phenomenon, it has been studied by political scientists, economists, anthropologists, historians, sociologists, agronomists, and others.Footnote 1 Moreover, when food politics is debated in the context of Asia, rice continues to figure most prominently.Footnote 2 This is one reason why the grain is typically described as a political crop (where it is grown in abundance). The Indian government's insistence on retaining its food subsidy programme for the poor, for example, has almost irreparably damaged the World Trade Organisation. In Thailand, the bungling of a rice-buying scheme by the Yingluck Shinawatra administration (2011–14) helped to justify the army's decision to bring her popularly elected government to an end. Vietnam's emergence as a major regional exporter of this key foodstuff has been built by the squeezing of surplus from its peasantry, with windfall profits accruing to state-owned trading companies. In Japan, the political dominance of the conservative Liberal Democratic Party has rested upon strong support from the country's remaining rice farmers. Indonesian President Joko Widowo campaigned on the promise to boost rice production through higher public spending on irrigation. In the Philippines, the redistribution of land to millions of landless rice cultivators has dragged on for decades.

A cursory reading of the literature on Malaysia, however, gives the impression that rice was once considered a political crop, but that its significance has dwindled of late. In 1995, reflecting on the Green Revolution in Malaysia, for instance, Philip Courtenay wrote approvingly that there had been a ‘flood of socio-economic surveys, resulting in official government publications, articles in academic journals, monographs and theses’.Footnote 3 Since then, scholarly interest on the rice sector has waned. Courtenay's is the last major monograph on the matter. Furthermore, recently published edited volumes on agricultural development in Southeast Asia with a focus on rice,Footnote 4 on grain marketing parastatals in Asia,Footnote 5 and on the 2008 rice crisis lack Malaysian case studies.Footnote 6 Nor is there a chapter devoted to agriculture, let alone rice, in an otherwise authoritative volume on Malaysia's economy.Footnote 7 This trend resonates with a general decline in the economic and political study of rural Malaysia observed elsewhere.Footnote 8 Put differently, in the study of rice politics, Malaysia has gone from a prominent case to a largely forgotten one.Footnote 9

Reasons for this declining interest stem from the diversification of the country's economy especially beginning in the 1980s, brisk economic growth, near-alleviation of hardcore poverty, rapid urbanisation, and the integration of rural and urban economies — a track record of which most developing countries would be envious.Footnote 10 But the East Asian experience demonstrates that wealth alone does not make rice policy unimportant.Footnote 11 After all, the average Malaysian still consumes about 79 kilograms of rice per annum.Footnote 12 And while this estimate is lower than in Indonesia, Thailand, and the Philippines, factoring all residents of Malaysia into the calculations, including the legal and illegal migrant workforce estimated at over 3 million people, would increase the figure significantly. Some 172,000 households continue to earn their income preponderantly from paddy cultivation;Footnote 13 the rice sector for years has received whopping subsidies, including RM2.2 billion (US$564 million) in 2014 from the Ministry of Agriculture and Agro-based Industry (MOA);Footnote 14 and the country was discernibly affected by the regional 2008 rice crisis. More recently, with the 2014 takeover of the country's sole rice importer and distributor — Bernas (Padiberas Nasional Berhad), once a parastatal but publicly listed since 1997 — a company owned by Malaysia's richest bumiputera (native son) tycoon now controls almost one-third of the country's rice supply, equal to its annual imports. That Bernas was privatised, or delisted from the Malaysian Stock Exchange, means that it is also now insulated from shareholder or other public forms of scrutiny.

Foregrounding the stickiness of rice in the political economy of Malaysia, this article traces the sector's unfolding dynamics from the Green Revolution to the present. The analysis draws from notable scholarship on the Malaysian political economy that emphasises its developmental success combined with extensive rent-seeking networks embedded in the country's political fabric.Footnote 15

Specifically, the crux of the article is the following. At first blush, Malaysia's current rice policies appear to be caught in a contradiction between recent government efforts to raise the domestic production of rice, on the one hand, and its continued support of Bernas's monopoly on rice imports, on the other. After a sustained period of relative government disinterest in boosting cultivation — post-Green Revolution, land-use policy, for example, had shifted toward more profitable activities such as building housing estates or planting palm oil, while labour policy promoted work in manufacturing — the government's reversal was sparked by the 2008 regional rice crisis. The crisis seemed to have jolted policymakers from complacency over domestic rice production and heavy reliance on the international market to fill their country's production–consumption gap. To ratchet up production, the government has instituted projects that seek to expand the acreage devoted to paddy cultivation, mostly though not entirely in less densely populated East Malaysia, and those that endeavour to intensify yield growth in the traditional rice bowl in the northwestern states of Kedah and Perlis. Yield growth in Malaysia has stagnated at slightly above 1 per cent per annum since the 1980s, while population growth during this period (1985–2015) has averaged 2.27 per annum.Footnote 16 The production spurt that these projects hope to deliver, however, would acutely threaten the interests of Bernas, which makes most of its money from the domestic selling of imported rice. If local production is increased, it would stand to reason that the need for foreign rice would lessen, in turn squeezing Bernas's profit margins. Yet in 2011, the government agreed to extend Bernas's monopoly import licence for another ten years.

How is the incompatibility of these policies to be understood? I argue that the paradox is more apparent than real, especially when the politics behind the policies are revealed. Each policy component aims to serve the same end — the perpetuation of political power by the United Malays National Organisation (UMNO) amid an environment of increasing electoral competitiveness, as evidenced by the hotly contested federal elections of 2008 and 2013.

To be sure, there is political capital to be gained by attending to concerns over food security, whether one believes the threat is real or apparent.Footnote 17 More critically, the rice expansion projects, the yield growth programme, and the extension of Bernas's import monopoly licence illuminate the continued entwining of money and power in Malaysia. Each element — gratifying Barisan Nasional (BN, National Front) coalition partners in East Malaysia; buttressing the rural Malay economy; and relying on big business for financial support — forms a key pillar in a broader UMNO electoral strategy to maintain its grip on national power. First, heavy government investment into expansion projects in East Malaysia can be conceived as acknowledgement of the UMNO-dominant federal administration of the paramount role that the states of Sarawak and Sabah on the island of Borneo now play electorally in keeping BN in power. Second, the intensification project in Kedah and Perlis continues an approach to agricultural policymaking that gained prominence during the Green Revolution of hefty state spending on and the subsidisation of the rural Malay economy for, among others, political purposes.

Lastly, extending Bernas's import monopoly reflects the urgency to continue forging close links between big business and political power in the post-Mahathir state. Illustratively, Syed Mokhtar Albukhary, Bernas's new owner, is widely believed to be a major UMNO donor. By focusing on Albukhary's takeover of Bernas, this article also underscores how rent-seeking in the rice sector has reflected wider political trends in Malaysia. Domination of the sector by Chinese traders under the British, and later backed by the Malaysian Chinese Association (MCA), had survived the transition to independence, but by the late 1960s and early 1970s these merchants were corralled by the state following the dramatic increases in paddy production as a result of the Green Revolution; and the implementation of the New Economic Policy (NEP) owing to the 1969 riots. But the old-style bureaucrats who ran the state agency in charge of the sector, Lembaga Padi dan Bernas Nasional (National Paddy and Rice Authority), were soon overtaken by Bernas, a new form of privatised yet state-controlled entity. Bernas was charged with bringing quasi-entrepreneurial energies to the sector under the guidance of Mahathir Mohamad (as prime minister, 1981–2003). Now that Albukhary has recently re-privatised Bernas, many questions have been raised over why he was allowed to gain control of one-third of the country's rice supply, what his growing control over the sector might mean for the country's rice farmers, and how this development portends future business–politics ties in Malaysia.

The Green Revolution

Starting in the late 1960s, a new package of paddy production technologies was applied intensively in Peninsular Malaysia, an area that had experienced perennial rice deficits under British rule necessitating the regular importation of rice.Footnote 18 As in other such Green Revolution countries as Indonesia, India, Sri Lanka, and the Philippines, the changes thereby induced in Malaysia's rice sector were incredible; whether they had positive or negative consequences for the society in question stoked animated debates among officials and scholars.

In the mid-1960s, the country's Department of Agriculture began introducing a series of short-maturing, fertiliser-responsive, high-yielding seed varieties (HYVs) whose grain quality and pest resistance gradually improved with time. In 1966, work began on an expansive irrigation scheme in the northwestern Muda River area of Kedah and Perlis, in part financed by a RM135 million (US$45 million) loan from the lending arm of the World Bank, the International Bank of Rehabilitation and Development (IBRD).Footnote 19 In 1970, a government agency, the Muda Agricultural Development Authority (MADA), was established to oversee the approximately 95,000 hectare project. Two years later, the IBRD funded a smaller irrigation project in the eastern coastal state of Kelantan. Buoyed by the country's surfeit of foreign reserves, owing to strong agricultural export performance and fiscal conservativism, the lending body clearly considered Malaysia ‘bankable’.Footnote 20 By 1975, the Muda project was in full operation with a 93 per cent coverage rate for the double cropping of rice.Footnote 21

Increases in production were rapid and striking. In 1971–72, for example, the off-season crop, made possible with improved water control and the use of HYVs, accounted for 40 per cent of country's total production against 5 per cent in 1962.Footnote 22 Total production, which had averaged 971,000 tons from 1956 to 1965, rose some 73 per cent, or 1.68 million tons, on average per annum, from 1966 to 1975.Footnote 23 Despite naysayers, the willingness of Malaysian growers to adapt to the new technology allowed the government to achieve its rice self-sufficiency target of 90 per cent under the Second Malaysia Plan (1971–75). For the subsequent five-year plan (1976–80), 92 per cent of a 100 per cent target was fulfilled.Footnote 24

Massive public investment also accompanied the production surges. In the First Malaysia Plan (1966–70), over 35 per cent of the development expenditure on agriculture was budgeted for irrigation.Footnote 25 By the Third Malaysia Plan (1976–80), the RM621 million budgeted was over 80 per cent higher than in the first plan in absolute dollars. Moreover, public spending schemes included subsidies for the individual farmer. In the late 1960s and early 1970s, Muda planters paid about one-third of the estimated real costs of irrigation services per acre per year.Footnote 26 Meanwhile, the costs of nitrogenous fertilisers were subsidised by 30 per cent from 1966 to 1970. Subsequently, officials introduced and scrapped a number of credit and price support programmes, as the price of urea fluctuated wildly.Footnote 27 On the whole, Malaysia's rice farmers responded positively to these price discounts. Between 1970 and 1982, the use of chemical fertilisers more than doubled per hectare of arable land.Footnote 28

Despite the subsidies, the application of pricey inputs, including imported pesticides and herbicides, required farmers to use more cash than was needed under more traditional cultivation techniques.Footnote 29 As production loans for farmers surpassed the importance of off-season consumption loans, the government established institutional channels to supply the cash and credit that was exceeding the means of the average Chinese shopkeeper or paddy dealer who had served as the farmers’ lender of first instance.Footnote 30 Notably, in 1969, with World Bank support, the state set up Bank Pertanian Malaysia (Agricultural Bank of Malaysia, Agrobank). Moreover, existing grassroots organisations such as the Lembaga Pertubuhan Pertanian (Farmers’ Co-operatives Societies) and the Farmers’ Associations were replaced by larger Farmers’ Organisations (FO) predicated on the successful Taiwanese model. The FOs became the main channels through which the fertiliser credits were distributed to farmers.

Paddy farmers were also compensated for their output. Increases in production could have led to lower prices, but the government decided otherwise. Between 1965 and 1972, guaranteed minimum prices (GMP) were about 17 per cent above world market prices.Footnote 31 Meanwhile, from 1971 to 1976, the GMP rose 63 per cent in domestic price terms, all the more striking because of Malaysia's high production costs, estimated in the early 1970s at RM27.41 per picul, or about double the world price.Footnote 32

Domestic political considerations accounted for Malaysia's distinctive pro-producer policies in contrast to pro-consumer policies in the Philippines, Indonesia, and Thailand. The usual objectives of improving allocative efficiency and raising national income were marginal considerations in Malaysia's rice policies.Footnote 33 For the semi-sovereign, federal elections of 1955, high rice prices did become a campaign issue for urban consumers and the GMP was lowered.Footnote 34 But with the victory of the Alliance — a coalition comprised of UMNO, MCA, and the Malayan Indian Congress — and the granting of Malaya's independence in 1957 (renamed the Federation of Malaya), attention was increasingly drawn to the plight of the country's poor rice farmers. More than 90 per cent were estimated to be ethnic Malays. While professed desires to be self-sufficient in rice may have been propagandist,Footnote 35 populist pressures to enhance the incomes of rural Malays were weightier. This was especially voiced by UMNO's rank-and-file members, who demanded state intervention replace the laissez-faire approach of the colonial past. Yet UMNO's leadership, led by Tunku Abdul Rahman, demurred and favoured a continuation of British policies; where intervention was justified, if at all, it was on behalf of Malays in the economy's modern sectors. The Alliance's first Five-Year Malayan Plan (1956–60) reflected this view.Footnote 36 Increasing criticism over the state's neglect of the rural sector from the likes of the economist and one-time vice-chancellor of the University of Malaya, Ungku Abdul Aziz,Footnote 37 and rising electoral competition forced the government to commit more fully to rural development beyond existing but ineffective programmes headed by the Rural Industrial Development Authority.Footnote 38 Notably, there were political motivations behind the government's decision in the early 1960s to approve the aforementioned Muda project as a means to bolster the Alliance's standing among Kedah's rice farmers.Footnote 39 Yet, as the project neared completion, the country's politics shifted dramatically. The devastating ethnic riots of May 1969, the subsequent suspension of parliament, and introduction of the redistributive, interventionist NEP in 1971 raised the stakes of the government's commitment to poverty alleviation among rural Malays, regardless of cost, to a matter of national stability and even state survival.

Poverty alleviation

The government's rice policies produced more ambiguous results regarding poverty alleviation. According to one study, the income of farmers in the Muda area rose nearly two and half times from 1966 to 1975.Footnote 40 Yet some cautioned against generalising from Muda-related data because of the high level of public investment in infrastructure the area received.Footnote 41 Nonetheless, by 1980 the national poverty rate among paddy farmers had declined to 52.7 per cent from 88 per cent in 1970. Yet with the national figure at 29.2 per cent, and the overall rate in agriculture at 45.7 per cent, paddy growers were falling further behind the rest of the population. And the disparity continued to worsen; by 1985, paddy farmer poverty rose to 58.3 per cent against a shrinking national rate of 24.1 per cent.Footnote 42 Even in Muda ‘still almost half of the paddy farm households … were poor in mid-1982 and half of these were living in hardcore poverty’.Footnote 43

Disquiet over the paddy farmer poverty rates contributed to the introduction in 1980 of a controversial paddy bonus scheme, a policy that remains in effect today. The plan was to price the bonus at RM33 per ton and implement a system where the grower could exchange a coupon for cash after six months. Displeased with the amount offered and the forced savings element of the plan, growers staged a large demonstration in Alor Setar, Kedah's capital. Although blaming the unrest on opposition Pan-Islamic Party (PAS) and communist troublemakers,Footnote 44 officials acquiesced to both demands: They converted the scheme into a direct cash payout of RM165 per ton (on top of the official procurement price of RM463 per ton). A seasoned expert recalls that rice policy in the 1980s focused on tackling the ‘3Ps’ — poverty, paddy, PAS.Footnote 45

In fact, because gains from the bonus scheme accrued disproportionately to the richer farmers, the programme exacerbated the income disparity between large and small farmers. Nor was the scheme able to address structural impediments to poverty alleviation. Here I will highlight just two. One concerned uneven land distribution. In the mid-1970s, for instance, some 60 per cent of farm holdings in Muda accounted for only about 25 per cent of the project area.Footnote 46 Throughout Kedah, average farm sizes declined from 1.31 hectares in 1967 to 1.20 hectares about a decade later.Footnote 47 These figures fell far short of estimates of scholars of the three-to-five hectares that were required to lift a paddy farming household of five out of poverty.Footnote 48

The shrinking farm was in part the result of land consolidation in the Muda area, where large farmers dismissed tenants to reap the rewards of the new technology and price distortions themselves.Footnote 49 Despite some land consolidation taking place, at the same time, in Muda and elsewhere fragmentation of land ownership was having a larger impact. To be sure, the oft-mentioned inheritance practices of Islam and customary practices (adat) where descendants were bequeathed equal amounts of land played their part. These cultural practices were long-standing, however.Footnote 50 What had changed in the meantime was, first, increased land pressure owing to rapid population growth (2.95 per cent per annum from 1960 to 1971) and, second, subsidies and government price supports were capitalised into land values, leading to paddy land inflation.Footnote 51 For good or ill, government programmes and the concomitant rise in land values facilitated the marginal farmer's ability to eke out a subsistence lifestyle. But if he was able to double crop no matter his precarious state, he was better off than those without access to modern irrigation who continued to sow a single crop each year.

During the early Green Revolution the landless did benefit, since double cropping afforded more employment opportunities. But the second structural impediment to poverty alleviation under discussion, mechanisation, soon altered the landscape. Landless labourers were squeezed by the arrival of the large combine harvesters toward the end of the 1970s, which included their active promotion by the agricultural agencies. James Scott reported a 44 per cent decrease in wage receipts as of 1980.Footnote 52 The politicised provision of state resources only worsened matters. Richer farmers dominated the FOs by forging tight alliances with UMNO that sought to deprive PAS supporters of state largesse.Footnote 53

Caused by push and pull factors, outmigration did ensue. Agricultural labourers and small growers, for example, abandoned paddy lands in search of urban-based jobs in the booming manufacturing sector.Footnote 54 In the early 1980s, it was estimated that over 2 million hectares of agricultural land, one-fifth of which was paddy land, was left idle.Footnote 55 Those who stayed behind sought to increase their off-farm income. But while at this time official granaries where public resources would be concentrated for double cropping were established, efforts at consolidating the smallholdings into larger efficient units were frustrated by the unwillingness of many land owners to sell for economic (aforementioned rising land values) and cultural factors.Footnote 56 This kind of inefficient use of resources, including the pumping of hundreds of millions of ringgit into the sector via subsidies and price supports, piqued the ire of the World Bank. Its scathing 1988 report contrasted the paddy sector's marginal economic value — exemplified by its 1 per cent contribution to Malaysia's gross domestic product — with the massive subsidies the sector was still receiving. In 1986 alone, subsidies totalled about RM490 million, or RM585 per ton of rice produced domestically.Footnote 57

In all, the Bank decried the industry's ‘increasing market disorder’ and ‘extreme market rigidity’, which resulted in a contraction in production and stagnation in yield growth, despite the government's ‘benevolent intervention’.Footnote 58 Although yields vary considerably from year to year, the pattern of low yield growth had become the norm — from 1985 to 2010, on average annual yields rose a tick above 1 per cent.Footnote 59 Improved seed quality, mechanisation, and limited expansion of irrigation systems in the country's then eight granaries accounted for the existing growth.Footnote 60

Reasons for low yield growth are rooted in the constraints and policies highlighted above; others resonate beyond Malaysia — from the lack of a second Green Revolution productivity boost to a rapidly ageing farm labour force.Footnote 61 In its 1988 report the World Bank predictably recommended liberalising factor prices and output prices to remedy the sector's ills. Just as predictably, the Malaysian government, even with the official phasing out of the NEP in 1991, demurred. But belatedly it did implement a policy prescription that is popular with the World Bank — privatisation. We now turn to events leading to the privatisation of Malaysia's rice parastatal.

FAMA to LPN

Besides increasing paddy production and buying the political support of farmers through income enhancement schemes, Malaysia's Green Revolution policies also sought to ensure that Chinese interests did not disproportionately profit from the production surges through the milling of paddy and marketing rice. These post-harvest, inter-ethnic dynamics have shaped the evolution of the grain sector's governance in Malaya (later Malaysia) resoundingly. The British, as is well known, favoured the export commodity sector over that of the food sector. This policy preference resulted in a colony dependent on rice imports to feed its bourgeoning population. Increasing numbers of Chinese tin-mine workers and Indian rubber-plantation labourers, for instance, consumed rather than cultivated the foodstuff. Therefore their capitalist bosses, beneficiaries of the colony's open economy, preferred cheap imports to keep wage bills low.Footnote 62 Courtenay's coarse characterisation of British rule as ‘the century of neglect’ of the Malay peasant is not without merit.Footnote 63 The colonial government did try to establish rural cooperative societies in the 1920s to address the farmers’ plight, particularly in Kedah. Yet, the societies lacked the administrative and technical expertise and sufficient capital to supplant the network of Chinese shopkeepers-cum-moneylenders, traders, and millers who have been perpetually accused of exploiting the Malay peasant.Footnote 64

With the granting of the colony's independence in 1957, the movement gained ground under the stewardship of Abdul Aziz Ishak, the Minister of Agriculture and Cooperatives. Ishak aggressively promoted the cause to counter the stranglehold the Chinese had on the rural economy. The movement opened hundreds of co-operative milling societies.Footnote 65 Ishak's belligerence, however, angered the premier, Tunku Abdul Rahman. The Tunku, as he was known, was protective of the inter-ethnic cooperation intrinsic to the electoral juggernaut that the Alliance was becoming. Reflective of the intra-UMNO tension mentioned above, the Tunku sided with the MCA in defence of its constituents’ economic interests and in 1963 he dismissed the populist Ishak from the cabinet.Footnote 66 While this meant that the ‘powerful political lobby of capitalism’ had prevailed in the countryside,Footnote 67 the federal government also came to understand that more regulation of the food marketing system was needed. Accordingly, in 1965 it formed the federal Food and Agricultural Marketing Agency (FAMA).

A motivating factor behind FAMA's founding was to protect Malay farmers against the so-called exploitative Chinese middleman, including the deceitful usage of weights and excessive deductions for wet paddy.Footnote 68 Yet, FAMA was operating in an environment that preceded the production spurts of the late 1960s and the 1969 riots, so efforts to turn the agency into a body with rigorous executory powers were lukewarm. As the Green Revolution-led increases came on stream, the government decided that an agency devoted to paddy and rice would be beneficial. Formed in 1967, the Padi and Rice Marketing Board managed a dozen or so local regulatory and trading schemes as an effort to enforce regulations that guided the sector according to the act upon which FAMA was established. But significantly the Board could not help farmers overcome credit constraints in a market dominated by paddy buyers. As was noted above, the government sought recourse by promoting FOs with financial backing from Agrobank.

Changes in the political environment after 1969 radically transformed governance in Malaysia; the grain sector was no exception. The restrictions on civil liberties and the growing coercive authority of the federal government were manifested in powers granted to the Lembaga Padi dan Bernas Nasional (LPN, National Paddy and Rice Authority), the Padi and Rice Marketing Board's successor. To be sure, the broad objectives of LPN, established in 1971, had public good intentions: safeguarding fair and stable prices for paddy farmers and consumers, overseeing a national emergency stockpile, recommending policies, and coordinating their implementation. The LPN's founding Act of 1971 also gave LPN officers extraordinary powers of arrest, seizure, and confiscation. While the government justified the granting of these powers to curb smuggling, their insertion into the Act was also designed to control or threaten Chinese interests in a politically delicate sector.Footnote 69

To control the price of rice, LPN had an array of mechanisms at its disposal — managing a buffer stock, determining import quotas, instituting variable tariffs, and enforcing compulsory sales by millers. The 1973–74 international rice crisis inadvertently furthered LPN's consolidation of the industry. When private traders baulked at purchasing rice stocks at inflated prices on the world market, in 1974 the government introduced price controls and tasked LPN to contract with exporting governments to secure rice. Two years later, the government issued the body its monopoly import rights.

LPN's staff expanded rapidly — from 29 in 1970 to almost 5,000 by 1983.Footnote 70 The agency was busy constructing and operating a number of integrated milling, drying, and storing facilities. Boosting the sector's artificial drying capacity was vital because the threat of rain made drying the wet-season crop outside risky. Large amounts of ruined paddy would have been a ‘political embarrassment for the government’.Footnote 71 LPN also extended its reach via procurement. By 1985, it was purchasing nearly one-half of all paddy produced.Footnote 72 Not only did Chinese traders fret this crowding out; so too did the World Bank. Besides LPN's increasing procurement rates, in part prompted by political pressure to buy low quality rice, the Bank complained about inefficient LPN mills. The latter's recovery rates hovered between 52 and 60 per cent, below the average of 62 to 64 per cent in private mills.Footnote 73 Yet, the latter were the ones closing; some remained but operated at one-third capacity.Footnote 74 Overall, the heavy costs borne by consumers and the government on account of LPN's growth worried the Bank. In 1986 alone, it reported that the agency's domestic activities operated at a RM96 million loss, which did not include the hundreds of millions spent on farmer subsidies.Footnote 75 Aided by strong oil revenues, however, the government readily bore these costs. As demonstrated earlier, cost–benefit analysis hardly figured in the government's paddy and rice policies. Nor were its policies placing a strain on its finances. After all, in this same year, 1986, the costs of imported rice constituted a mere 0.03 per cent of Malaysia's export earnings.Footnote 76 By the early 1990s, however, consonant with the country's budding privatisation programme, Prime Minister Mahathir Mohamad, who cared little for smallholder agriculture, opted to embark on a different course of action regarding the rice industry.Footnote 77

Bernas

In 1994 after incorporation, LPN became known as Bernas. Privatised in 1996, Bernas's shares were floated on the Kuala Lumpur Stock Exchange (KLSE) a year later. Although the first grain parastatal in the region to be privatised, its change in status failed to stoke controversy in large part because Mahathir's privatisation drive had been expanding for a number of years amid robust economic growth. Privatisation was fundamentally altering the foundation of Malaysia's political economy, especially as a politically-inspired means to increase Malay private capital accumulation.Footnote 78 Illustratively, the manner in which Bernas was privatised, distinct from the neoliberal approach where entities are sold to high-bid investors who gain management control, was consistent with Mahathir's modus operandi. Notably, there was only one bidder for LPN from an obscure consortium named Budaya Generasi Sdn Berhad (BGSB). BGSB turned out to be controlled by political insiders. Representatives of thousands of farmers (and others) were also cut in on the deal.

Owning 75 per cent of Bernas, BGSB comprised four public entities — farmer associations under the auspices of MADA and the Kemubu Agricultural Development Authority, the National Farmers’ Association, and the National Fishermen's Association. Together they may have controlled 34 per cent of BGSB.Footnote 79 BGSB's largest shareholder, Permatang Jaya Sdn Bhd, with a 44 per cent stake, was owned by Shahidan Kassim, the former head of FAMA and then Chief Minister of Perlis (1995–2008). Bernas's managing director, Mohamed Ibrahim Nor, was a former senior executive at Fleet Group, a major UMNO holding company; his company (Simpletech Sdn Bhd) held a 5.5 per cent stake in BGSB.Footnote 80 Other minority BGSB shareholders included a former deputy prime minister and a Mahathir confidant. The Finance Ministry, with a 10 per cent stake, retained a golden share, meaning it held veto power over the board's decisions. The ministry also placed a representative on the board and after a 1999 reshuffle, so too did the ministries of Agriculture, Trade, and Home Affairs. In all, despite ‘privatisation’, government and UMNO control over Bernas remained paramount.Footnote 81

Even before its 1997 initial public offering (IPO), Bernas began acquiring local rice industry firms, which entailed buying Chinese-owned entities. By 2000, Bernas had purchased some 25 companies. It also restructured by establishing four subsidiaries under a corporate umbrella known as the Bernas Group. Alongside domestic expansion, the corporation entered into joint-ventures to facilitate direct participation in international trade. In 1997 alone, it signed agreements with companies in Pakistan, Thailand, Australia, and the Republic of Guinea. Subsequently, it made similar arrangements with state-owned heavyweights in Vietnam and China.

Despite this expansion, early on Bernas's share price had trouble gaining traction. It took almost two years for it to return to its November 1997 IPO price of RM2.20.Footnote 82 Ostensibly the economic turmoil of 1997–98 Asian Financial Crisis (AFC) hurt Bernas, but in reality investors simply did not find rice and regulation ‘sexy’.Footnote 83 Still, the company's fundamentals were sound. Population growth of over 2 per cent ensured a steady increase in demand, and Bernas had cornered over half the rice market — about 35 per cent through imports and another 20 per cent via domestic procurement. It owned almost 40 mills and, most valuably, held a 15-year monopoly concession on imports (starting from January 1996). Import rice operations from 1999 to 2001 comprised on average about 77 per cent of the Bernas Group's profits.Footnote 84

As part of its 1996 privatisation agreement, the company was mandated by the government to fulfil several so-called social obligations.Footnote 85 In addition to managing the national stockpile, they included acting as the buyer of last resort, which meant purchasing low quality rice at an inflated GMP, administering both the bumiputera rice millers programme intended to increase Malay equity in the industry, and the Paddy Price Subsidy Scheme. As Bernas was expected to pay these programmes’ costs in exchange for the profits it would earn from its monopoly on rice imports, the company's profitability would be limited. In 1999, for example, revenue of RM1.9 billion delivered only RM120.4 million in pre-tax profits for a profit margin of just 6.3 per cent.Footnote 86 Bernas's managing director quipped: ‘We make some money, but we don't make much’.Footnote 87 Nor's admission failed to quell complaints from competitors about the firm's apparent aim to monopolise the industry. In response, Nor retorted: ‘That is not our intention. Why should we? … Anyway, the industry is big. A lot of players can participate’.Footnote 88 The Minister of Agriculture appreciated Bernas's industry presence: Since its privatisation, he crowed, it had saved the government RM1.5 billion in annual expenditure.Footnote 89

To overcome perennial rice industry problems of smuggling (from neighbouring Thailand) and of inconsistent earnings owing to fluctuating rice prices, Bernas continued to diversify, restructure, and expand. In 2001, it purchased a 30 per cent stake in Singapore-based Gardenia Bakeries for about RM55 million. The company also expanded vertically to improve efficiency and distribution networks; horizontally, it ventured into such dry foods as flour and sugar. As its corporate strategy of achieving a 50:50 split in rice and non-rice revenue generation became apparent, word spread about ambitions of becoming a Malaysian Nestlé.Footnote 90 To reduce operating expenditures, Bernas cut staff too, a controversial, though common, tactic in privatisations. It used a financially difficult year (2002) as pretext to offer a voluntary separation (VSS) scheme to over 1,500 of its staff. The scheme was recommended by the accounting and consultancy firm Ernst and Young, which had estimated overstaffing at about 50 per cent.Footnote 91 Despite the VSS, Bernas paid executive and non-executive directors over RM4 million in salaries in 2002 and a 10 per cent dividend to shareholders of RM21 million.Footnote 92

Since Bernas made most of its money from imports, maintaining the national self-sufficiency level (SSL) in rice for the Third National Agricultural Plan of 1998–2010 at 65 per cent benefited the corporation.Footnote 93 Still, its vigilant leadership did not take favourable government treatment for granted. Prior to Mahathir's October 2003 resignation, for example, it was reported that Bernas struck a marketing and distribution deal with a marketing and sales unit of a food manufacturer linked to the family of then deputy prime minister Abdullah Badawi, Mahathir's hand-picked successor.Footnote 94 It was also around this time that Bernas's ownership structure was undergoing changes that proved more controversial than its original privatisation.

Three crises: Economic, electoral, food

It is well known that Abdullah Badawi strove to devise a distinctive policy framework in order to move out from the large, overbearing shadow cast by his former boss. Badawi cancelled some of Mahathir's favourite economic megaprojects, such as the double-tracking Malaysia–Singapore rail project.Footnote 95 In social policy, Badawi promoted the concept of Islam Hadhari (Civilizational Islam), with its emphasis on personal piety and tolerance, as a means to soften some of the government's Islamist policies that had characterised the late Mahathir period.Footnote 96 Less well-known was Badawi's attempt to revitalise the food-based agriculture sector, including the rice industry. One reason for this thrust was to arrest the urban–rural income gap that worsened under Mahathir.Footnote 97 Mahathir's indifference toward the rice sector can be gleaned from the measly target of 0.2 per cent per annum for rice production growth set in the 8th Malaysia Plan (2001–06), Mahathir's last. Badawi's five-year plan, in contrast, pledged a target of 2.3 per cent growth per annum to be achieved by enhancing productivity through improved irrigation and drainage systems and more farm-to-market roads.Footnote 98 To accomplish these results, Badawi needed, first, to improve local public service deliveryFootnote 99 — which had deteriorated under Mahathir — and, second, the necessary time and authority to implement his programmes, especially at the local level. In the end, as a weak prime minister, Badawi had neither.

Where Badawi's approach demonstrated more continuity with that of Mahathir's was with the cultivation of bumiputera tycoons for political purposes. Illustrative was the case of Syed Mokhtar Albukhary, Malaysia's wealthiest such businessman today. Albukhary was born of humble origins in Alor Setar, Kedah in 1951. According to his authorised biography, he began his career as a small-scale trader, and soon thereafter, he obtained an LPN licence to trade in rice. Subsequently, he received considerable help in the field by the agency's officials as a bumiputera in a Chinese-dominated field. Through opportunity and industriousness, he continued to take advantage of NEP-inspired, bumiputera government programmes to secure loans and supply contracts from the likes of pro-Malay entities such as the Federal Land and Development Agency and the Ministry of Defence. Having expanded into manufacturing, by the mid-1970s he had befriended Muhyiddin Yassin, then managing director of a state-owned, government supply company. Albukhary also worked closely with the aforementioned Shahidan Kassim.Footnote 100 By the 1980s, Albukhary had business interests in shipping, construction, palm oil, sugar, and property development, especially in Johor, where Yassin, by 1986, had become chief minister.Footnote 101 Albukhary's ascent to the pinnacle of Malaysia's corporate world, however, would need a path cleared by the destruction caused by the 1997–98 AFC.

Reportedly Mahathir and Albukhary first met face-to-face in early 1997 when the former tasked the latter to build an Islamic civilisations museum in the nation's capital.Footnote 102 Having passed Mahathir's ‘test-case’ with aplomb, Albukhary earned the autocratic prime minister's trust. In the meantime, the AFC began battering Malaysia's economy — by early 1998, the ringgit had lost almost 50 per cent of its value; by mid-year the stock market shed about 70 per cent of its valuation; and by year's end the gross domestic product contracted 7.5 per cent. Aligned with the government, the companies of Mahathir's so-called cronies incurred colossal debts that required equally massive state bailouts.Footnote 103 Notable casualties included Halim Saad's Renong and Yahaya Ahmad's DRB-Hicom, entities that the Mahathir had designated as Malay pioneers in his vision of the country's large-scale industrialisation.Footnote 104

Although hit hard, Albukhary's companies were less entangled in the tentacles of national political power and thus were less exposed financially. They survived the AFC, bruised but not beaten.Footnote 105 If some pro-market reformers hoped that the experience of AFC would convince the country's leadership to dismantle the dense, collusive networks among UMNO, the government, and big business, the budding Mahathir–Albukhary relationship would disappoint them.Footnote 106 In 2002, Albukhary bought the UMNO investment fund National Corporation, which became part of Albukhary's Tradewinds Corporation, another government entity that had been privatised. By gaining control of other such prominent companies as the Malaysian Mining Corporation Bhd, DRB-Hicom, and the carmaker Proton, Albukhary was being tasked with rescuing indebted entities or reviving stalled projects. On accusations of being a new breed of crony, the well-known UMNO donor responded: ‘What crony? I have to be a reverse crony to be getting troubled projects.’Footnote 107

Around this time, Albukhary began acquiring shares in Bernas. In 2003, a company understood to be associated with the tycoon bought about 18 per cent of equity interest in BGSB.Footnote 108 Thus began a process that would take more than ten years for Albukhary to complete: to acquire the rice corporation in order to take it private from the renamed Malaysian Stock Exchange. Before showing how Bernas's mishandling of the 2008 rice crisis almost scuttled Albukhary's plan, the reason for Badawi not withdrawing the state protection that Albukary had enjoyed under Mahathir deserves a brief mention. After all, it is common in Malaysia for ‘disgraced’ political elites to have their crony-like business networks dismantled, as happened to the network of former deputy prime minister Anwar Ibrahim during the 1997–98 AFC following his dismissal from the cabinet and subsequent arrest.Footnote 109

First, Mahathir, unlike Anwar, was not ‘disgraced’; he merely retired on his own accord, and thus retained significant influence within UMNO (which he used to lead the charge against Badawi following UMNO's dismal 2008 electoral result). Second, the swathe of strategic assets Albukhary controlled created a deep, encompassing co-dependence between him and the state. Sidelining Albukhary could have had repercussions for the economy in the immediate term, something which Badawi wanted to avoid. Lastly, the UMNO leadership's need for a stable of wealthy bumiputera did not dissipate with Mahathir's retirement. Badawi's working relationship with Albukhary, while less cozy than Mahathir's, made sense for the primary parties involved.

Whereas during the 1973–74 rice crisis the price spikes on the international market caused private traders to cease purchases, in early 2008 it was Bernas's turn. It cut imports by as much as 40 per cent.Footnote 110 While stockpiles remained adequate, worries among the populace over the availability of rice deepened. Already reeling from an electoral thumping in March of that year in which it lost its two-thirds majority in parliament for the first time since 1969, the government insisted that Bernas resume its imports. But the company baulked, infuriating government officials.Footnote 111 They felt aggrieved because, first, the company had been profiting generously from its import operations (on average about RM135.8 million per annum from 2004–07Footnote 112 ), and secondly, as recently as 2007, it had been treated with favour by having its import monopoly licence extended another five years. Seeing themselves as victims rather than culprits of the crisis,Footnote 113 Bernas officials sought to shift blame onto hoarding by ‘private’ (read Chinese) dealers, millers, and wholesalers.Footnote 114 Such provocations of course did little to resolve matters; so, the government felt compelled to procure rice directly from the Chinese and Thai governments. By late 2008, the crisis had abated, but the government's strained relationship with Bernas had not. With pressure mounting from Malay business associations eyeing a piece of the so-called import pie, the government commissioned a study to explore the possibility of nationalising the industry.Footnote 115 Upon further examination, the commission did not recommend this option; neither did it approve the large increase in the rice stockpile that the government ordered Bernas to hold because of its expense.Footnote 116 A year later, the government still claimed to be reviewing the contractual conditions under which Bernas holds its monopoly licence.Footnote 117

What course of action then has the government embarked upon since the crisis? One set of policies has pursued semi-autarky in food provision, principally by jettisoning the long-standing policy of maintaining rice production at about 65 per cent of domestic requirements. The gradual lowering of the rice SSL from a peak of 100 per cent in the 1970s had enabled more agricultural lands to be used for such high value-added, agro-industrial export commodities as palm oil, flowers, and tobacco. Since the rice crisis, the official SSL in rice has been raised, first, to 71 per cent in 2011, then increased further 100 per cent by 2020.Footnote 118

The federal government has invested heavily in boosting rice production by expanding the planted area and by raising yields, although not without controversy. From 2008 to 2014 lands devoted to paddy cultivation grew almost 5 per cent against the 6.7 per cent contraction experienced from 2001 to 2005.Footnote 119 Moreover, in 2012 PM Najib announced the establishment of four new granaries totalling 19,000 hectares — the first additions to the country's eight granaries since their initial designation in the mid-1980s. Planned since at least since 2010, two modest-sized projects are located in Pahang.Footnote 120 Pahang is among Peninsula Malaysia's poorer states and Najib's home state where he began his career in politics. Over 100,000 small-scale farmers were expected to receive RM13,000 each in special compensation in addition to other poverty alleviation subsidies and standard farming subsidies such as the paddy bonus.Footnote 121

The two larger, forthcoming granaries are situated in less densely populated East Malaysia. The two 5,000 hectare projects, one in the coastal district of Kota Belud in Sabah and the other in Sri Aman in Sarawak, each involve about 3,500 farming households. Through improved irrigation, both schemes aim to roughly double existing yields to reach levels approximate to those achieved on the peninsula.Footnote 122 For years the federal government had hesitated from expanding paddy cultivation in the Borneo states because of the lack of post-harvest marketing tradition among the area's many indigenous groups, the expense of opening new wet-rice lands, the area's poorer soils that affect yields and taste, sensitivity over the autonomy of state officials in land matters as stipulated in the country's federal constitution, and general indifference.Footnote 123 Yet the federal government responded to long-standing demands of local stakeholders to increase rice production following the twin shocks of 2008.Footnote 124 East Malaysia may be part of the federal government's plan to bolster food security, but UMNO officials also now realise the indispensability of their Borneo BN counterparts in keeping UMNO in power nationally. During the 2008 and 2013 federal elections, BN retained power at the federal level only with the dozens of BN-won seats from East Malaysia.Footnote 125 Accordingly, Sabah and Sarawak are referred to as the BN's ‘fixed deposit’.

Costs associated with economically unviable rice projects in East Malaysia are revealing for their political implications, and because of the token contribution they will make in improving local rice self-sufficiency levels even in best-case scenarios.Footnote 126 The federal government has budgeted RM250 million for the Sarawak project and RM380 million for its Sabah counterpart. Both are construction boons, necessitating the building of flood mitigation works, water storage dams, local mills, and many kilometres of drainage and pump irrigation systems and roads by local contractors (and sub-contractors) with ties to state assemblymen.Footnote 127 Rent-seeking opportunities also abound for local officials in the issuing of multiple permits related to the projects, and over time for other state-backed private actors through land grabs as local land values are likely to rise. In addition, in his 2015 budget speech, Najib announced that RM70 million has been allotted for expenditures associated with hill rice cultivation in the two states.Footnote 128 This amounts to a nontrivial form of largesse circulating among local officials in charge of the distribution. Food security matters. It also cannot be denied, however, that the UMNO-led federal government subsequent to the electoral shock of 2008 heeded the complaints from stakeholders in East Malaysia, an area that imports 70-to-75 per cent of its rice requirements, to boost local rice cultivation. Electoral considerations have played their part.

Given different demographics and political dynamics, the addition of granaries in East Malaysia appears to be more about appeasing local state leadership while those in Pahang are concerned with providing individual voters with material incentives to stay within UMNO's fold. The latter dynamic also pertains to a large yield boosting, land consolidation programme under way in Kedah and Perlis on the peninsula. Rice estate management projects have existed in Malaysia since in the 1980s. With a target of 50,000 non-contiguous hectares by 2020, this latest attempt is the largest thus far. As of early 2017, some 30,000 hectares had been consolidated, with MADA targetting low producers of two-to-four metric tons of paddy per hectare for its programme.Footnote 129

Discussions among relevant policymakers over amalgamating plots in the Muda area were a result of the 2008 rice crisis, but gained in earnest thereafter when the project was designated as part of Najib's multi-sector Economic Transformation Programme. Launched in 2010, the programme aims to promote innovation, competiveness, and efficiency in Malaysia's economy as means of raising the country above the much-debated middle income trap.Footnote 130

Farmers are expected to lease their land rights to MADA for ten planting seasons (or five years). In addition to enhanced extension services provided by MADA, participants will receive extra subsidies from Bernas for land preparation, for fertilisers and pesticides, and for tractors. The government also has committed over RM2 billion to upgrade the area's decaying irrigation system (specifically to build over 100 tertiary canals).Footnote 131 Undoubtedly, this project furthers decades-old government initiatives designed to bolster the economic fortunes of rural Malays for, among others, political purposes. This constituency has been a stalwart of UMNO electoral support. Its importance has not only been enhanced by persistent gerrymandering to boost its electoral weightage, but with the erosion of UMNO's urban support in the 2008 and 2013 elections, rural constituencies have become even more critical.Footnote 132 This MADA-led project invokes the production versus income and technocratic versus political patronage dimensions of the Green Revolution described above.

Undoubtedly, rural Malaysia has undergone significant transformations since the days of the Green Revolution. The number of cultivators solely relying on income derived from paddy cultivation has shrunk. Increasingly members of farming households either no longer farm, having moved to towns or cities, or more heavily draw from non-farm sources of income.Footnote 133 Nor does this imply, however, a complete deagrarianisation is underway.Footnote 134 For starters, some farmers have turned to more organic means of cultivation in line with the growing awareness of the environmental consequences from a pure chemically-dependent, productivist approach to cultivation (although admittedly this number is still small in Malaysia). Moreover, further economic and spatial integration of the rural and urban has seen some urban-based, degree holders return to the countryside as part-time or weekend farmers,Footnote 135 ostensibly facilitated by the state's generous paddy production subsidies. Lastly, in accounting for the surprising persistence of the smallholding class,Footnote 136 Malaysia has, as elsewhere in its economy, relied heavily on foreign labour. Government data shows that in the agricultural sector, while broader than the rice industry per se, the foreign worker population has more than doubled from about 200,000 in 2000 to nearly 500,000 in 2015.Footnote 137 Interviews on the subject give the impression that all cultivators, no matter how small their plot of land, employ foreign labour (the majority are Bangladeshi) in some manner.

Of course, from a development perspective, bolstering rice production via such yield growth programmes as MADA's estate project in Kedah is a far more complex enterprise than simply purchasing greater quantities of rice from the international market. The former requires increased coordination among a number of actors across ministries and agencies, as well as the dispersal, reception, and implementation of technical knowledge.Footnote 138 Meanwhile, as market liberals are at pains to point out, it is less costly and more efficient to purchase one's rice needs on the international market, which Malaysia has done more or less consistently for over a century.Footnote 139 Although in apparent contrast to its production programmes, the government remains committed to this enduring policy, as evidenced by its latest extension of Bernas's import monopoly licence in 2011. To be sure, Albukhary only took over the rice corporation in 2014, but as we saw above, his intention to acquire it had been clear beforehand. As a major UMNO donor,Footnote 140 he also has pledged commitment to the social obligations that are integral to Bernas's possession of its monopoly licence. We know this because the then Minister of Agriculture revealed in 2013 that Albukhary had written him a personal letter expressing his company's good intentions.Footnote 141 In other words, continuing cooperation between Bernas and the government appears to rest on a private, non-legally binding document. Since Tradewinds has purchased Bernas, worries by the deal's critics that Albukhary will use Bernas's strong cash flow to pay down the debt of his other companies apparently have been realised.Footnote 142 Bernas staffers also fear more layoffs.Footnote 143 But as winning elections has become outstandingly expensive — as the current 1Malaysia Development Berhad (1MDB) scandal that erupted in 2015 over some RM2.7 billion (then approximately US$700 million), and possibly more, purportedly used by Najib to ensure UMNO's victory in the 2013 elections, has revealedFootnote 144 — UMNO needs to maintain its stable of major donors whom Albukhary exemplifies. This is especially so if UMNO wants to maintain its status as the longest ruling party among so-called democracies.

Conclusion

Fundamental lessons of the study of the political economy of Malaysia's rice sector can be appreciated if placed in comparative perspective. On the one hand, aspects of Malaysia's experience have dovetailed with those of other post-Green Revolution cases such as the Philippines and Indonesia.Footnote 145 First, developmental success is not costless. In the 1960s and 1970s, these governments, with some financial support of the World Bank, spent hundreds of millions of dollars on implementing Green Revolution technology with varying degrees of success. Production output rose; alieving paddy grower poverty, however, did not automatically follow. Still, as a result of these production increases, the state strove to channel the programme's spoils into the proper hands, notably that of state officials and their cronies and away from the so-called Chinese middlemen. Meanwhile, as the entangling of politico-economic interests accumulated over decades around these food parastatals — Bulog in the case of Indonesia, the National Food Authority in the Philippines — they have helped to stymie the efforts of the international financial institutions (IFIs) to liberalise the rice trade in these economies. In each case the import monopoly licence possessed by the food parastatals has been a primary mechanism to facilitate the distribution of associated rents to key domestic actors and coalitions. This is despite the fact that these economies have experienced significant diversification and the growing number of urban consumers, along with poor paddy cultivators who remain net consumers of rice, might benefit from the lower prices of imported rice.

On the other hand, starting in the mid-1990s, Malaysia's rice industry diverged markedly. It was not liberalised in the manner in which the IFIs had hoped. Rather it was privatised in a peculiar fashion. Critically, the transformation of Bernas was not the result of structural changes as a result of a more successful agricultural transformation in Malaysia compared to the Philippines or Indonesia.Footnote 146 Instead, Mahathir, uninterested in agricultural development, decided that it would be politically expedient to use Bernas as a means to increase capital accumulation among key UMNO operatives (and among Malays more generally) through a tightly controlled privatisation deal that would unleash a more entrepreneurial or profit-oriented Bernas in contrast to the more traditional, plodding bureaucratic approach of LPN. Mahathir had already been pursuing his quasi-neoliberal adjustments elsewhere in the state sector and Bernas in this respect was just another domino that fell.

Backed by state capital, still largely controlled by UMNO interests, and protected by the state — here again the import licence was crucial — Bernas transformed into a minor conglomerate through aggressive acquisitions of mostly Chinese-owned firms and tie-ups with international enterprises, many of whom were state-owned companies. But in time Bernas's new and successful regime of capital accumulation attracted the attention of other sharks in the water, so to speak. One can imagine that either Badawi or Najib could have prevented Albukhary's gradual takeover of Bernas — the rice giant's second privatisation — if either had so desired. But the intermingling of interests among UMNO, the state, and Albukhary over the control of other strategic assets perhaps forced state officials, even if begrudgingly, to green-light Albukhary's takeover plans. This was especially so as long as he pledged to keep the existing programmes that delivered rent to the rice sector's beneficiaries, especially the politically important swathe of Malay rice millers and distributors, intact.

Under this new arrangement, cultivators will be unlikely to witness meaningful improvements in such public goods as better local roads, irrigation, extension services, and seeds. Yet neither have they seen such improvements in decades. Instead, they will continue to be the objects of specialised, subsidised programmes or projects for electoral purposes. In all, the state has fostered the immense accumulation of capital by a single individual in a sector with surpassingly sensitive food security ramifications — Albukhary controls about one-third of the country's rice supply — rather than prioritise investment in yield growth or a bottom-up approach to development that would benefit the poorer segments of society. This worrying development speaks volumes for the current conditions of the politics of class relations in the new capitalism of contemporary Malaysia.

Footnotes

I would like to thank two anonymous referees and the journal's editors for their insightful remarks. Funding for this research has been generously provided by a FRC National University of Singapore grant (R-108-000-070-112).

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68 For example, Food and Agricultural Marketing Agency (FAMA), Laporan tahunan dan penyata kira2 1965 & 1966 (Kuala Lumpur: FAMA, 1966), pp. 22–3Google Scholar. For a more nuanced view on the problem, see Arshad, Fatimah, ‘An evaluation of the Malaysian padi and rice market: Structure, conduct and performance’, Pertanika 5, 2 (1982): 164–77Google Scholar.

69 Lembaga Padi dan Beras Negara Act 1971 (Act 47), especially articles 20(1a, 1b) and 22(1) (repr. in the appendix of Fredericks and Wells, Rice processing, pp. 156–69).

70 Mehmet, Ozay, Development in Malaysia: Poverty, wealth and trusteeship (London: Croom Helm, 1986), p. 10Google Scholar.

71 Fredericks and Wells, Rice processing, p. 82.

72 LPN, Laporan tahunan 1985 (Kuala Lumpur: LPN, 1985) p. 24, fig. V.

73 World Bank, ‘Sector report’, p. 9.

74 S.H., Tan, ‘Malaysia's rice policy: A critical analysis’ (Kuala Lumpur: Institute of Strategic and International Studies, 1987), pp. 2, 52Google Scholar.

75 World Bank, ‘Sector report’, pp. iv, 9.

76 Tan, ‘Malaysia's rice policy’, p. 31, table 11.

77 Teik, Khoo Boo, Paradoxes of Mahathirism: An intellectual biography of Mahathir Mohamad (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995)Google Scholar.

78 Gomez and Jomo, Malaysia's political economy; Tan, Jeff, Privatization in Malaysia: Regulation, rent-seeking and policy failure (London: Routledge, 2008), pp. 3977 Google Scholar.

79 Raja Petra Kamarudin, ‘Esklusif: Bernas selepas 7 tahun penswastaan; Bernas: Penyelamat atau perompak petani?’ [Exclusive: Bernas 7 years after privatisation; Bernas: Saviour or robber of farmers?], Seruan Keadilan Online, 10 Feb. 2003, http://seruankeadilan.tripod.com (accessed 17 Apr. 2016).

80 Tan C.S., ‘Corporate: Major Bernas stake on the market’, The Edge, 27 Jan. 2003.

81 Bernas, , Annual report 1999 (Kuala Lumpur: Padiberas Nasional, 1999), pp. 912 Google Scholar. The reshuffle was induced by BGSB's sale of about half its equity in Bernas (see Yunus, K., ‘G. Bersepadu yet to finalise Bernas stake buy’, Business Times, 27 June 2003 Google Scholar).

82 Bernas, Annual Report, p. 19.

83 Khairul A., ‘Unsexy Bernas seeks to jazz up image’, The Edge, 1 Apr. 2002.

84 Bernas, , Annual Report 2000 (Kuala Lumpur: Padiberas Nasional, 2000), p. 55Google Scholar; Bernas, , Annual Report 2001 (Kuala Lumpur: Padiberas Nasional, 2001), p. 66Google Scholar.

85 They were first elaborated in the 1994 Padi and Rice Control Act (Act 522), art. 4, of which some were LPN's responsibility.

86 Bernas, Annual report, 1999, pp. 18, 53.

87 Nazatul I., ‘Striking a balance’, Malaysian Business, 16 July 1997, p. 7.

88 ‘Commercial and social roles’, Corporate World, 16 Aug. 1997, p. 16.

89 E. Bani, ‘Call for Bernas to play more significant role in markets’, Malaysia Business Times, 3 Mar. 2000.

90 Raja Petra Kamarudin, ‘Pagar makan padi: The Bernas story’, www.malaysia-today.net 26 Aug. 2003, http://www.malaysia-today.net/the-bernas-story-revisited/ (accessed 20 Aug. 2016).

91 M. Shanmugam, ‘Bernas VSS gets overwhelming response’, The Edge, 22 Sept. 2003.

92 Bernas, , Annual Report 2003 (Kuala Lumpur: Padiberas Nasional, 2003), pp. 62, 67Google Scholar.

93 Government of Malaysia, Third National Agricultural Plan 1998–2010 (Putrajaya: Ministry of Agriculture, 1998), p. 51Google Scholar.

94 Raja Petra, ‘Pagar makan padi’.

95 Chander, Ramesh, ‘Abdullah's economic policies: Between promise and delivery,’ in Awakening: The Abdullah Badawi years in Malaysia, ed. Welsh, Bridget and Chin, James U.H. (Petaling Jaya: Strategic Information and Research Development Centre, 2013), pp. 419–32Google Scholar.

96 Rappa, Antonio L. and Wee, Lionel, Language Policy and Modernity in Southeast Asia: Malaysia, Philippines, Singapore, and Thailand (New York: Springer Science, 2006), pp. 35–6CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

97 The urban–rural income disparity had widened from 1:1.81 in 1999 to 1: 2.11 in 2004. Government of Malaysia, Ninth Malaysia Plan 2006–2010 (Kuala Lumpur: National Printing Department, 2006), p. 360Google Scholar; http://www.epu.gov.my/en/rmk/ninth-malaysia-plan-2006-2010 (accessed 18 Jan. 2017).

98 Ibid., p. 91 (tables 3–4) and p. 95.

99 Ibid., pp. 493–510.

100 Mohanlall, Premila, Syed Mokhtar Albukhary: A Biography (Petaling Jaya: pVm Communications, 2012), pp. 43–4Google Scholar, 48–9, 57, 72–3.

101 Yassin became deputy prime minister in 2009 (until 2015 when he was sacked by PM Najib Razak for disloyalty amid the 1MDB scandal).

102 Mohanlall, Syed Mokhtar Albukhary, p. 87.

103 Jomo, K.S., M-Way: Mahathir's economic legacy (Kuala Lumpur: Forum, 2003), pp. 151–8Google Scholar.

104 S. Elegant, ‘Malaysia's chosen one’, Time (Asia), 24 Jun. 2002, pp. 16–18.

105 Mohanlall, Syed Mokhtar Albukhary, pp. 105, 107.

106 Case, William, ‘Malaysia: New reforms, old continuities, tense ambiguities’, Journal of Development Studies 41, 2 (2005): 284309 Google Scholar.

107 L. Lopez, ‘Syed Mokhtar's coming-out party’, Far Eastern Economic Review, 29 May 2003, p. 41.

108 The purchase by Gandingan Bersepadu Sdn Bhd was priced at RM100 million. Having sold shares to pay off AFC-related debts, BGSB's share of Bernas had been reduced to one-third. Reportedly the BGSB entities associated with Nor and Kassim sold their stakes to Albukhary-related interests. Yunus, ‘G. Bersepadu yet to finalise Bernas stake buy’.

109 I thank one of the referees for emphasising this point.

110 Bernama, ‘Bernas blames private millers for rice shortage’, 8 May 2008.

111 Interview, Larry Wong, former Bernas executive, Kuala Lumpur, 25 Sept. 2013.

112 With the Group's pre-tax profits from 2004 to 2007 averaging RM161 million per year, this meant that the import business contributed to about 84 per cent of the Group's profits. Bernas, , Annual Report 2007 (Kuala Lumpur: Padiberas Nasional, 2007), p. 6Google Scholar.

113 Salman, M., ‘Food security in the context of Malaysia's paddy and rice industry: A balancing game’, in Proceedings of Bernas Seminar 2013: ‘Leveraging the past to move forward’, ed. Salman, M. (Kuala Lumpur: Bernas, 2013), pp. 328 Google Scholar.

114 Bernama, ‘Bernas blames private millers’.

115 C. Yeap, ‘Prospects for a nationalised Bernas’, The Edge (Weekly), 21 July 2008.

116 Tey, Y.S., ‘Malaysia's strategic food security approach’, International Food Research Journal 17 (2010): 506Google Scholar.

117 Following the crisis the government implemented a subsidised rice scheme for low-income families. Riddled with corruption and complaints from growers and millers about the over-supply of cheap rice, the programme was finally abandoned at the start of 2016.

118 Government of Malaysia, Dasar Agromakanan 2011–2020 (Putrajaya: MOA, 2011), p. 23Google Scholar; Government of Malaysia, Eleventh Malaysia Plan 2016–2020 (Putrajaya: National Printing Office, 2016), p. 58Google Scholar, http://rmk11.epu.gov.my/index.php/en/ (accessed 17 Jan. 2016).

119 Ibid., p. 15, table 2.5; USDA Foreign Agricultural Service, ‘Grain report—Malaysia’, 14 Feb. 2014, http://gain.fas.usda.gov (accessed 16 Apr. 2016).

120 One (Pekan) is 647 hectares; the other (Rompin) is 2,874 hectares.

121 ‘Four new paddy granaries to be developed — Najib’, Borneo Post, 29 Sept. 2012, http://www.theborneopost.com/2012/09/29/four-new-paddy-granaries-to-be-developed-najib/ (accessed 17 Aug. 2016).

122 The projects’ official status as granaries will be conferred upon completion; it is unlikely either will be completed by their 2020 deadline.

123 Interview, Syahrin bin Suhaimee, Deputy Director, MARDI, Serdang, 13 Feb. 2015.

124 Interview, Dzulkifli Hj. Ghulamdin, Head of Planning, Department of Agriculture Sabah, Kota Kinabalu, 28 Apr. 2016.

125 James Chin, ‘Exporting the BN/UMNO model: Politics in Sabah and Sarawak’, in Weiss, Routledge Handbook of Contemporary Malaysia, pp. 83–92.

126 At best both projects would raise SSL in rice in each state by 10 per cent (Interview, Bin Yusup, Head of Beras Corporation Sdn Bhd, Bernas's Sarawak subsidiary, Kuching, 17 Feb. 2016; J. Lamdin, Mohd. S.S., W.W.W. Wong, and J. Gumpil, ‘Sabah's roles and contributions towards fulfilling the nation's strategies in achieving 100% SSL in rice production’ [Kota Kinabalu: Department of Agriculture Sabah, 2015]). The failure of prior, smaller-scale programmes in Sarawak stemmed from the lack of trust between officials and local communities (Interview, Nicholas Mujah, Head of Sarawak Dayak Iban Association, Kuching, 19 Feb. 2016).

127 ‘Bernas rice import monopoly extended by more 10 years’, Borneo Post, 7 May 2012, http://www.theborneopost.com/2012/05/07/bernas-rice-import-monopoly-extended-by-more-10-years (accessed 17 Aug. 2016).

128 ‘Budget 2016 provides RM29.2 bln for development in Sabah, Sarawak’, Borneo Post, 23 Oct. 2015, http://www.theborneopost.com/2015/10/23/budget-2016-provides-rm29-2-bln-for-development-in-sabah-sarawak (accessed 20 Aug. 2016). I am grateful to Yi Fan Chung for alerting me to this development.

129 Interview, Kamaruddin bin Dahuli, Director, Rice Industry Division, MADA, Alor Setar, Kedah, 30 Mar. 2017.

130 See the government website http://etp.pemandu.gov.my.

131 Interview, Kamaruddin bin Dahuli.

132 On the declining Malay urban vote, see Saravanamuttu, Johan, ‘Power sharing politics and the electoral impasse in GE 13’, in Coalitions in collision: Malaysia's 13th general elections, ed. Saravanamuttu, J., Lee, H.G., and Mohamed, N.M.O. (Singapore: ISEAS, 2015), pp. 3762 Google Scholar. On bias in Malaysia's electoral system, see Weiss, Meredith, ‘The antidemocratic potential of party system institutionalization: Malaysia as a morality tale?’, in Party system institutionalization in Asia: Democracies, autocracies, and the shadows of the past, ed. Hicken, Allen and Martinez Kuhonta, Erik (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2015), pp. 2448 Google Scholar.

133 For a study of two villages on the Kedah plain, see De Koninck and Ahmat, ‘A state-orchestrated agrarian transition’, pp. 61 fig. 4.1, 64 fig. 4.17.

134 Rigg, Jonathan, Southeast Asia: The human landscape of modernization and development, 2nd ed. (London: Routledge, 2003), pp. 291–5Google Scholar.

135 Preston, David and Ngah, Ibrahim, ‘Interpreting rural change in Malaysia’, Singapore Journal of Tropical Geography 33 (2012): 351–64Google Scholar.

136 Rigg, Jonathan, Salamanca, Albert, and Thompson, Eric C., ‘The puzzle of East and Southeast Asia's persistent smallholder’, Journal of Rural Studies 43 (Feb. 2016): 118–33Google Scholar.

137 The figure had peaked at 625,093 in 2013. See Ministry of Home Affairs, ‘Jumlah pekerja asing di Malaysia mengikut sektor, 2000–2015’, c.2016, http://www.epu.gov.my/sites/default/files/1.5.1.pdf (last accessed 17 Jan. 2016).

138 Jacob Ricks and Rick Doner, ‘Tasks of development: Beyond technical answers’, Working Paper, Singapore Management University, 2017.

139 Alavi et al., Trusting trade.

140 Mohd. A.S.A., ‘Umno's chief crony’, www.freemalaysiatoday.com, 28 Oct. 2012; http://www.freemalaysiatoday.com/category/opinion/2012/10/28/umnos-chief-crony (last accessed 17 Aug. 2016).

141 Gooi H.L., ‘Did Ismail Sabri lie to farmers & fishermen? Syed Mokhtar's Bernas denies any relisting plan’, Malaysians Must Know the Truth, blog, 12 Feb. 2014, http://malaysiansmustknowthetruth.blogspot.sg/2014/02/did-ismail-sabri-lie-to-farmers.html (last accessed 20 Aug. 2016).

142 Reportedly some RM700 million has been advanced to Tradewinds. M. Chan, ‘Explain Bernas cash transfer worth millions, says MP’, Free Malaysia Today, 10 June 2015; http://www.freemalaysiatoday.com/category/nation/2015/06/10/explain-bernas-cash-transfer-worth-millions-says-mp (last accessed 17 Aug. 2016).

143 Anon. interviews, Bernas staffers, Kuala Lumpur, 27 July 2015 and Kota Kinabalu, 25–27 Apr. 2016.

144 Even if not all the money was used for this purpose, it is still a staggering sum for an election with just over 13 million eligible voters.

145 Davidson, Jamie S., ‘Why the Philippines chooses to import rice’, Critical Asian Studies 48, 1 (2016): 100122 Google Scholar; Timmer, C. Peter, Operationalizing pro-poor growth; Country study for the World Bank: Indonesia (Washington DC: PREM/World Bank, 2005)Google Scholar.

146 This concept refers to the transition of an agrarian economy via increased agricultural productivity to one preponderantly based on industrial, urban economic activity (Timmer, Food security and scarcity, pp. 75–113).