Looking for an Angel

Malaysia is what South Viet Nam hopes to be a decade from now: a bustling little land that survived twelve vicious years of internal assault by Communist guerrillas and has gone on to achieve one of the highest standards of living in Asia. Until recently, Malaysians could look forward to continued progress. Now a cloud has fallen over their future. The reason is the sudden reduction in Britain's role as Malaysia's longtime financial angel and protector. With the end of the external threat from nearby Indonesia, Britain is withdrawing its 10,000-man military force, and has put Malaysia on notice that some $200 million in economic and military aid will not be forthcoming.

As Malaysians prepared last week to greet President Johnson, they were hoping that the U.S. would fill the gap left by the departing British. Even before leaving on his trip, the President took measures to reassure the Malaysians. He ordered a reduction in U.S. sales of stockpiled rubber in order to bolster the price and thus help Malaysia, which supplies one-third of the world's rubber. U.S. aid officials were also studying requests for at least a modest amount of economic aid to support Malaysia's ambitious five-year development program, which would suffer if funds were diverted to a defense buildup to replace departing British troops.

Leftover Terrorists. Malaysia can state a compelling case for assistance. Its location--spreading from the Borneo rain forests across the South China Sea to the pleasant Malay highlands--gives it an importance in the security of Asia. The handsome capital of Kuala Lumpur is alive with new autos, motor bikes and eager shoppers; outside the city, 140 new factories have sprung up, and 50 more are under construction.

With his development scheme, Deputy Premier Tun Abdul Razak is conducting his own Johnson-style "assault on poverty," which among other things has opened 200,000 acres of new farmland to 30,000 settlers. Since its founding in 1963, Malaysia has raised the G.N.P. of its 9.2 million people by an annual average of 7% .

Still, Malaysia is by no means free from troubles. In the isthmus near Thailand hide some 600 Communist guerrillas, leftovers from the Communist-inspired civil war that ended in 1960. Others are clustered along the border in Borneo and sometimes fight alongside Indonesian raiders, who apparently have still not got the message that konfrontasi has ended.

The federation itself is fragile. Prime Minister Tunku Abdul Rahman knitted four former British colonies into a multiracial, multiculture conglomerate. But he has been less successful in holding his creation together. Fearful that Singapore's industrious Chinese might overshadow his own easygoing Malays, Abdul Rahman last year expelled the island state from the federation.

Unifying Influence. The Tunku has also provoked bitterness in the Borneo states of Sarawak and Sabah, where the inhabitants, chiefly Chinese and reformed headhunters of the Dyak and Iban tribes, resent his insistence on Malay supremacy. Fanning the resentment is a constitutional clause that calls for Malay to become the federation's sole official language by 1967. The Borneo states might break away except for one important consideration: the development aid that the Tunku's government dispenses. That, of course, is the major reason why Malaysians feel that they must find someone to pick up the tab that Britain no longer wants.

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