The sudden and unexpected passing of Petronas chairperson Azizan Zainul Abidin has struck the nation as a whole. Already we have read countless accolades being heaped upon the man and his achievements from all levels of Malaysian society, from the corridors of power down to the man in the street.

Azizan was very much a professional career bureaucrat of the old school. Educated at the Francis Light School and Penang Free School in Penang, he internalised the values of these conservative institutions and was quiet, patient, steadfast and diligent in his manners and personality.

His was the first generation of Malaysian pioneers who charted the nation's trajectory during the troubling decades that followed the retreat of Western colonialism and imperial rule.

His rise to power and prominence came at a time when the fledgling post-colonial state of Malaysia was on the look-out for young men of promise who could serve their country, yet do so with tact, honesty and humility.

The history of the developing world has been blighted with so many instances of young states floundering almost as soon as the fervour and excitement of the independence struggle had abated.

Nations that once overflowed with much optimism and hope for the future soon found themselves labouring under the yoke of a new yet familiar tyranny wearing the mask of the native rulers themselves.

If Malaysia managed to navigate the choppy waters of the Cold War era and sail through the dire straits of the troubling Emergency (1948-1960) and Konfrontasi with Indonesia (1963-65), it was largely thanks to the level-headedness of the men who were given the responsibility to captain the ship of state then. Azizan was one of those men, who served his nation in his own quiet, tactful and unassuming way.

I cannot claim to have much intimate knowledge of Azizan's work and his dealings with the men of power in the country. A professional bureaucrat to the very end, he was economical with his words and knew where his priorities and responsibilities lay. A man who shied away from publicity, he shunned the camera and the podium, preferring to work as he did behind a

succession of prime ministers and senior ministers of the state.

Yet if and when the time came for him to make his sacrifices, he did so willingly and without complaint or reservations. And he did so out of a sense of duty and responsibility that was the hallmark of his generation.

Defining moment

One of my earliest memories of Azizan was the incident in the early 1970s when a commercial airliner was hijacked by the Japanese Red Army group and landed at Subang Airport (which was then, of course, Malaysia's main international airport).

The hijackers demanded an exchange of hostages, and if memory serves me correctly negotiations were made with the Malaysian government to let them have a number of senior bureaucrats as hostages. Azizan had the dubious honour of being picked as one of those to be handed over to the hijackers and flown to an uncertain fate.

That evening, my entire family was assembled at Subang Airport. My cousin Amir Hamzah (son of the late Azizan) and I were somewhat confused by the whole incident. Our mothers were present, crying openly and understandably anxious about his fate.

Amir and I managed to sneak past the rows of armed soldiers and guards and crawled to the edge of the visitors' platform and we caught a view of the hijacked airliner that was parked on the runway, brightly lit by dozens of searchlights and surrounded by a ring of soldiers.

Being kids who knew no better, we joked that if we were given sniper's rifles we would have been able to knock out the hijackers one by one. Back in the passenger terminal, those who were about to be handed over were awaiting the outcome of the negotiations and eager to know their fate.

In the midst of the confusion and anxiety, the wails and tears of relatives and loved ones, I recall the image of my uncle who stood at attention, upright with suitcase in hand, his face impassive and his manner cool and collected.

He probably understood that if he was handed over to the hijackers his fate would be entirely in their hands. Yet when told of the news he accepted his responsibility without question, did his duty as any true bureaucrat would and served his country when it was his turn to do so. In the event, at the very last minute, his place was given to Osman Kassim, who likewise did not shirk off his responsibilities and acted like a true man of honour would.

This incident remained with me all my life and remains as the defining moment that summed up my late uncle's character. The men of his generation were quiet patriots, who acted for the sake of Malaysia and put national interest before themselves at every given opportunity.

They were at the forefront of the independence movement and were not about to abandon their country at any price, even if they had to bear the human costs themselves with the loss of their liberty or livelihood. This was a time when patriotism was not measured by empty rhetoric or stale slogans and bombastic songs, but through relentless work and perseverance against seemingly impossible odds.

High standards

During the 44 years that he served his country, Azizan worked under the most powerful men in Malaysia. He was the principal private secretary to Abdul Razak Hussein (1971-1975), Hussein Onn (1975-1981, photo ) and Dr Mahathir Mohamad (1981-1984).

As the most senior bureaucrat, he was often put in charge of matters related to national security as well. In 1967 he was principal assistant secretary of security and intelligence to the Home Ministry and from 1969 to 1971, secretary to the National Security Council (NSC). From1985 to 1988 he was the Home Ministry secretary-general, a post he took up after a stint as secretary-general to the Trade and Industry Ministry (1984-85).

Azizan was appointed president and chief executive of Petronas in 1988, and became its chairperson in 1995. In 2001, he was appointed chairperson of Malaysian Airlines. Recognised both at home and abroad, in 2003 he was awarded the Order of the Commander of the Legion of Honour by the French government.

As he ascended the steep and often slippery slope of power, Azizan left an impression on many of those who had the honour to work with him.

A conscientious worker who upheld the spirit of the constitution, he was also exceedingly particular when it came to maintaining the high standards of professionalism set for the civil service by prime ministers Tunku Abdul Rahman ( photo ) and Abdul Razak.

Among the men who came under his mentorship was Jawhar Hassan, who himself rose to a senior position within the civil service and who is now director-general of the Institute of Strategic and International Studies (ISIS), Malaysia.

Recalling those years, Jawhar noted: "I had the privilege of serving with (Azizan) three times. During the course of my career in the civil service, I had two mentors, and he was the first. He taught me the value of hard work, and how to serve the country without fuss or fanfare. He was a man of ideas, an original thinker who was utterly devoted to the nation; utterly loyal to the prime ministers he served.

"Those prime ministers in turn had utter confidence in him and his abilities. He did not suffer fools easily, and always had ideas of his own and initiatives which he took up and turned into reality. This was why he rose so high in the civil service. Above all, he had great respect for constitutional principles, the rule of law and the value of ethics in government."

Being of the old school and educated in the norms and mores of a generation that understood the value of under-statement and simple hard work, Azizan was one who could accept failures and difficulties with humility; and more importantly, could accept success with grace. It is for this reason that notwithstanding his achievements, he maintained the aura of a dignified gentleman who was accustomed to power, yet never accused of self-aggrandisement.

Youthful optimism

In the words of another one of his peers, ISIS chairperson Dr Noordin Sopiee: "I think it is very rare for us to find someone with so much power and influence and to be able to bear the weight and responsibility of such power while remaining so decent and nice.

"It says a lot for the man that as he grew in stature and importance, he maintained his character and was, right to the end, a fundamentally decent and ethical human being, whose life was guided by principles."

It was this steadfast adhesion to ethics and legal principles that made him the natural choice for a succession of prime ministers who saw in him all that was best in the civil service of old and the founding spirit of Malaysia itself.

He maintained a youthful optimism in the future of Malaysia, as well as the burning desire and will to see his country and fellow countrymen succeed. Yet it is one of the ironies of life that those who do not dream or long for power are often burdened with it, and the weight of countless responsibilities bore heavily upon him right to the very end.

His final appointment as to the post of commissioner to the Royal Commission on the Malaysian Police Force, established this year. Coming at a time when most senior leaders would pine for a long-overdue retirement and a life of rest and reflection, Azizan accepted the responsibility as he had done numerous times before with the knowledge that he was fit for the job and that he therefore had the responsibility to do so.

On the day of his passing he was scheduled to have a meeting discussing the findings of the commission, and had he lived on he would have undoubtedly seen that it would conduct its work in the most open, accountable and transparent manner.

The passing of Azizan marks a turning point of sorts in the modern history of Malaysia. He was among the last of the old breed of senior professional bureaucrats who did their duty and served their nation behind the scenes, and their silent labours over the past five decades have helped to make this country what it is.

During the most difficult years between 1957 to 1965, when a new Malaysia was taking its first steps on the arena of global politics, men like him were called upon to breathe life into the Malaysian idea and to defend her interests against a host of variable international factors, some of them hostile to the well being of the new nation-state.

Yet men like Azizan and his peers did their work and offered their lives without hesitation, working quietly in the backrooms of a bureaucratic system which did not offer much prospect for glamour and shortcuts.

He and his peers were men who followed the rules methodically and did their duties without hope or longing for public acclaim or rewards: Their just desert would come when they saw the star of Malaysia ascend in the constellation of international politics, and when the name and image of the country rose in prominence.

Their joy and satisfaction were kept to themselves, and the younger generation of today have much to be thankful for, thanks to their unstated ambition to see a new Malaysia succeed and prosper.

During the funeral service for Azizan at his home in Segambut, one of the first prominent visitors was Mahathir. Visibly choked with emotion over the loss of one of the men who had served him and the nation so well, he had this to say: "He was a good man, loyal and always conscientious. This is a great loss for the whole nation, and to me personally."

Today there are few men who would be able to step into the shoes of my late uncle. One only hopes that his dream of seeing the emergence of a young, dynamic and vibrant Malaysia would be carried on in the future, by a second generation of young Malaysians driven by ethics and principles

May the labours of my uncle and the men of his generation not be wasted by the young with restless hearts. The enduring lesson to be learnt from the life of Azizan is that nothing of worth can come from speed and unfettered ambition.

Great nations are made not by rhetoric and empty promises, but painstakingly built upon the labours of quiet patriots whose greatness lie in their humility.

Al-Fatihah