The Singapore Story: Memoirs of Lee Kuan Yew (61 page)

The threat to fix Singapore through economic measures did not endear him to the Chinese in either territory. A few days later the Barisan countered by warning him that the interdependence of Malaya and Singapore was a grim reality; any attempt by one to impose economic sanctions against the other would be to commit suicide. At the same time, Lim Chin Siong took on the Tunku, albeit obliquely. As it was no longer possible for the British to rule according to the old colonial pattern, he said, they had decided on Malaysia to use local right-wing forces to police and protect their interests in the region.

The Tunku responded by repeating his warning that the Causeway would be closed by the end of the year if Singapore rejected merger, and
stressed that he meant it. “If the communists think they can easily dupe the Malays,” he said, “they are sadly mistaken.” A week later, the Barisan retorted that such threats would only increase public antagonism towards Federation politicians whose attitudes were “most unreasonable, unjust and non-democratic”. It said that the Federation wooed the people of the Borneo territories with concessions, but for Singapore it was all threats, coercion and intimidation.

This might well have been so, but the threats had made people realise that the consequences of a confrontation with the Tunku could be devastating. However much it would hurt, Malaya would weather it better than Singapore. The British business community was dismayed, and to underline the precariousness of the situation, the retiring chairman of the Singapore Chamber of Commerce referred to the “orgy of strikes, go-slows, sit-downs, etc, which is termed industrial unrest” and incurred a serious risk that new capital would be kept out of the island, while rising costs would restrict existing trade and create financial difficulties.

The general mood of apprehension all this fostered worked against the Barisan. Meanwhile we had cleared another hurdle. After acrimonious exchanges and a debate that went on for five hours to past midnight and continued the following day, the House passed an amended motion welcoming the introduction of the Singapore National Referendum Bill by 26 votes to 16.

Needing a change after this frenetic activity, I decided it was time to renew my contacts with British leaders, and to meet several Afro-Asian leaders on the way. In April 1962, I flew to London via Rangoon, New Delhi, Cairo and Belgrade.

Prime Minister Pandit Nehru of India fully supported my proposals to merge Singapore with Malaya and form Malaysia. I had a good press. Under the caption, “Prime Minister’s blessings for Malaysia secured”,
The Times of India
, then India’s journal of record, wrote that Malaysia
had evoked appreciation in official circles. It was obvious the Indians considered it a sound development because it would help to keep China’s influence out of Southeast Asia. At my press conference, I was able to tell journalists that their prime minister was not concerned about the Afro-Asian secretariat’s declarations that Malaysia was neo-colonialist.

My next stop was Cairo, from where the secretariat of the Afro-Asian Solidarity Committee issued its statements critical of Malaysia. If I could win President Nasser over, I would make an important breakthrough. I arrived in the morning and was met at the airport by the vice-president and taken to one of ex-King Farouk’s smaller palaces, now a guest house. That evening, I was received by President Nasser in his modest, unpretentious but well appointed home. It was a good meeting; the chemistry was right. When I arrived, he was at the front door with photographers in position. I felt he had done it hundreds of times, so photogenic did he look on television and in the papers. All the same, he was most welcoming and friendly. His consul general in Singapore was a great supporter of mine and of Malaysia. He knew we did not want Singapore to become an Israel in Southeast Asia, and had reported this to his foreign minister.

Nasser spent an hour listening to me on the dangers of Singapore going it alone and becoming the odd man out in Southeast Asia, a Chinese entity in the midst of a Malay archipelago of about a hundred million people. I did not want this. The answer was to reunite Singapore and the peninsula, with which it had been governed by the British as one unit for over a hundred years before they were separated. He needed no persuading that Malaysia was not a neo-colonialist plot and assured me that he would support it and that I could say so. All through the five-day visit, the Egyptians laid out the red carpet for me. I was invited to visit Egypt again and see him at any time – it was personal, Nasser said. I had made a friend. I liked the man, his simple lifestyle and his intense desire to change all that was decadent and rotten in Farouk’s Egypt.

A big smile of welcome from President Gamal Abdul Nasser of Egypt in April 1962.

Nasser issued a joint communiqué with me, breaking protocol since Singapore was not an independent country. It said that he supported Malaysia and the “unification of all peoples with similar political and social backgrounds … seeking an end to colonial domination”. It was a political plus for Singapore to be understood and supported by Nasser and Nehru, the two leaders who then set the pace in Africa and in Asia.

On May Day, I flew to Belgrade. Tito received me formally. Unlike Nasser, he had a splendid residence, with electrically controlled steel gates that opened silently upon our arrival. I was taken to see him by a minister, Slavko Komar. Tito wore a lounge suit, not one of his resplendent uniforms, and as the cameramen took pictures he looked firm and stern – no smiles, no warmth, completely the opposite of Nasser. I was up against it: the Indonesians had poisoned his mind. But he listened. I took time to explain my background, that I was a nationalist and not a colonialist stooge. I did not agree with the communists in Singapore who took their inspiration from China; they could not succeed in Singapore and Malaya because their brand of communism was not indigenous; Maoism could not succeed in Southeast Asia. I sensed from his body language that I had shifted him. I mentioned an article critical of Malaysia in their party publication, the
Komunist
. Tito said it did not represent the view of the Yugoslav government. I had gained my point.

When I was leaving for the airport and about to meet the press there, I asked Slavko Komar whether I could repeat what Tito had told me. He said the president was a man of his word, and when he had said it was so, it was so. So I quoted Tito’s statement and turned around to the minister to ask whether I was right. He nodded and said, “Yes.” After my departure, Reuters reported a foreign secretariat spokesman as stating, “the article represents the personal opinion of the author. Premier Lee during his stay in Belgrade informed the president and Yugoslav leaders about desires to create a Malaysian federation, which were received with understanding by the Yugoslav side.” It was a plus.

For Choo, the London trip was the first time she had been back since she left in August 1950. The city looked prosperous and Londoners well-groomed. They were going into the Swinging Sixties. Although I had been there three times between 1956 and 1958, I was impressed by the sense of plenty, the shops, the restaurants and the cars. Macmillan had won the general election in 1959 on his refrain, “You’ve never had it so good”, and the popular press had dubbed him “Supermac”. It was May, the weather was fine, and we were happy to find the British capital thriving. Several huge Humber Pullmans were parked at Grosvenor House where we stayed, waiting to take us wherever we wished. But I had a tight programme – discussions with ministers, meeting old Labour Party supporters in parliament, and cultivating the British press in off-the-record interviews.

Reginald Maudling, the new secretary of state for the colonies, a large, well-built man with spectacles, was outgoing and easy to get on with. He and his wife saw us socially before our official discussions to make us feel welcome. He also gathered some ministers to meet me for lunch, and Mrs Maudling had what was then called a hen party for Choo at the Hyde Park Hotel.

One major problem was still the old issue – whether the communists should be cleaned up before or after merger. The Tunku had repeated his demand that the Internal Security Council move against them beforehand. He had made it clear to the British and to me that he did not want to take repressive measures the moment Malaysia came into being. It would not be an auspicious beginning.

I was prepared to consider action before merger – with two important provisos. I told Maudling the operation could begin while the United Kingdom still had the responsibility for security, hence under the command of the British, as chairman of the Internal Security Council. My public position would be that it was most regrettable but, from my personal
knowledge of the communists, absolutely necessary Next I insisted that the communists should still be at large when the referendum on Malaysia was held. I believed they would call for a boycott that would not be obeyed and this would discredit them. It would be a fatal mistake to detain them before the referendum; that would completely destroy its worth and open me to accusations that they were arrested to help me win and hand Singapore over to the Tunku. There would be protest riots and public disorder.

A special commission under Lord Cobbold was then visiting North Borneo to determine the attitudes there towards Malaysia. I stressed that whatever the Cobbold report recommended on the subject of citizenship for people in Borneo, Singapore could not be given less favourable terms. The term “Malaysian national” would have been acceptable if it had applied equally to the citizens of both territories, but the Tunku had announced that Borneo citizens would become Malaysian citizens, although Singapore citizens would not.

When Maudling asked about my difficulties with the Tunku, I said, “The Tunku thinks I am clever but wrong and he, though not clever, is right. I win the argument, which embarrasses him, but he feels that my conclusion is wrong though he does not know why.” If he would persuade the Tunku that it was folly to believe that every Chinese was a potential communist supporter, it would have more effect than if it came from me. The Tunku’s simple belief was that “politics was for the Malays and business for the Chinese”. This might have been so in his father’s time, but was not realistic in 1962. As for our differences over citizenship, I had also met Lord Cobbold that morning and spent the best part of an hour discussing his recommendations on Borneo, and I told Maudling that I felt happier now that he knew how they could affect Singapore, and how they could increase my problems.

My visit was not all work. We drove up to Cambridge to meet Billy Thatcher for tea at the University Arms Hotel. Thatcher was pleased with
what I had done since I went down from Cambridge in 1949 and asked about our children – we had written to him to say how bright Loong was. He gave us a copy of Lewis Caroll’s
Alice in Wonderland
for him and said, “He must come soon if I am to be here to see him.” He did not look particularly frail but I was glad I was able to meet him. He died a year later. We were both very sad.

The weekend in Cambridge was a welcome break in a full official programme that included a BBC broadcast to Singapore on their Far East Service. I described how the heads of non-aligned nations – India, Egypt and Yugoslavia – had come out in open support of Malaysia. It was not the kind of news that helped the pro-communists.

Press and radio reports of my meetings with Nehru, Nasser and Tito, and my BBC broadcast from London must have done me good because the Barisan attacked me vigorously. To explain why these great leaders of the Afro-Asian world did not think Malaysia was a colonialist plot, they claimed that I had managed to gain their sympathy and support by creating a false impression. They cavilled that Nehru, Tito and Ne Win (unlike Nasser) had not issued joint statements with a discredited prime minister. But they could not deny that they had supported Malaysia.

Meanwhile, the pro-communist Indonesian newspaper,
Bintang Timur
, reported that Lim Chin Siong had said he was in favour of merger with Indonesia rather than with Malaysia. This was foolish, and Lim hastened to deny making the statement, but it had damaged him – the communists were losing that air of irresistible and inevitable victory in their fight against merger, and his denial was unconvincing.