The Singapore Story: Memoirs of Lee Kuan Yew (69 page)

I believed then that the Tunku never told Tan Siew Sin that he was willing to let Singapore have maximum control of its finances in return for minimum Singapore participation in federal politics. Tan would not otherwise have demanded maximum control over our finances, because the more control the government in Kuala Lumpur exercised over them the more it must expect Singapore to participate in the politics of Malaysia in order to influence its policies towards Singapore. This was a fundamental problem that was never resolved before or after Singapore joined Malaysia. The Tunku left it to fester. In one way, this worked to my advantage. The Barisan berated me for having sold out Singapore and said that my “sham concern” for state finances could not deceive the public. But on the contrary, Tan Siew Sin’s haughty, almost imperious demands alarmed the people of Singapore, and my responses, which proved I was not going to be a pushover, were a great relief to them. As the exchanges went on, right up to July, they won me much support. People wanted me to stand up for Singapore.

In mid-June, Kuala Lumpur presented Singapore and Brunei with its final terms for Malaysia, after which “there will be no negotiations”. These included provision for a common market in the constitution, and a $50 million grant from Singapore for the development of the Borneo territories. I said Singapore was too poor to play Santa Claus and give away $50 million as its entrance fee to join the Federation. As for the common market, the federal government had announced in October 1962 that a team of experts from the World Bank was to examine its economic implications, in accordance with a decision made in London in July that year. This had held out hopes of our benefiting from professional competence in getting it off the ground. But although the report with the World Bank’s recommendations had since been handed to Keng Swee and Tan Siew Sin, no definite terms or conditions had been agreed for bringing it about.

There were other major issues. One was my request that after Malaysia came into being, the power to detain secret society gangsters without trial under our Criminal Law Temporary Provisions Ordinance should be delegated to Singapore. I thought it too dangerous to leave this in the hands of the federal government if we were to stop thugs from meddling in the political life of the state. The Tunku was most reluctant to accede, and Razak appeared to be with him. They also wanted to change the constitution to restrict the movement of our citizens into Malaysia in order to keep out Singapore communists who, as Singapore citizens, would now become Malaysian citizens. In that case, I insisted, there should be reciprocity: the state government should have the same right to stop Malaysian citizens from Malaya from coming to Singapore.

Another issue was my proposal that there should be an amendment in the state constitution to provide that any assemblyman elected on a party ticket who then resigned or was expelled from that party must vacate his seat in the Assembly and fight a by-election. The Malayans were most reluctant to agree to this.

A further concern of mine was keeping corruption down after merger. That would require the Singapore state advocate-general to retain his powers to prosecute under our Prevention of Corruption Ordinance, which made it easier to secure convictions. This law did not exist in Malaya, nor did they have a Corrupt Practices Investigation Bureau. I asked that there should be no changes made in these institutions without the consent of the Singapore government.

The arguments went on and on without agreement, until Duncan Sandys called for a final meeting in London to dispose of outstanding questions. The Tunku was unhappy with me and refused to attend but sent Razak in his place to negotiate with me and to inform him only when a settlement had been reached. He would then come for the signing ceremony. Sandys had meanwhile become impatient with all the bickering. A Commonwealth Relations Office note recorded that he had held a meeting before the negotiations opened to discuss the action to be taken if they ended in deadlock, as they almost certainly would. In that case, he said, three courses would present themselves:

“(1) force Singapore to join Malaysia against its will; (2) abandon the Malaysia project; (3) allow North Borneo and Sarawak to join a reduced Malaysia, leaving the door open to subsequent membership by Singapore.

“The secretary of state thought it would probably be necessary to threaten the Tunku with separate independence for Singapore and it was agreed that this might force the Tunku to reach agreement with Singapore since without her (Singapore) the Malaya Defence Agreement would not continue for long and our free use of the Singapore base would soon be put in jeopardy. …

“There was, however, some slight evidence that the Tunku was possibly thinking that if he developed more friendly relations with Indonesia, that would serve him better in combating the Chinese influence in Singapore than would the establishment of Malaysia.”

Keng Swee and I arrived in London and started what would now be called “proximity talks” In other words, we did not at first meet Razak and Tan Siew Sin. They stayed in a different hotel from us, while the British talked to both sides and narrowed the differences between us. Then I had a working lunch with Razak, and Keng Swee followed this up by seeing him the next day. Finally, Sandys had us sit around a table for a marathon meeting that went on throughout the night. It was his method of dealing with stubborn parties, wringing concessions from both sides until they finally reached agreement. He had done this before to the Singapore delegation, providing strong drinks but little food to wear us down. It was not unlike what the communists did to us at committee meetings, which they would drag out until enough of the non-communists had gone home before the vote was taken.

That evening, anticipating a repeat of this technique, we came prepared with supplies of sandwiches and some bottles of beer, which we brought in typewriter cases to the separate room where we met when we called for breaks for our own delegation discussions. When we ran out of food, our trusted cabinet secretary, Wong Chooi Sen, would telephone Choo at the Park Lane Hotel to order more sandwiches from room service. We did this until Choo reported that room service had run out of sandwiches. To keep our heads clear, we declined Sandys’ hard liquor. This prudence and the supply of food kept our stamina up throughout the gruelling night. We believed Razak’s side was not as well-provisioned.

Finally, near dawn, it was agreed that we would pay 40 per cent of our “national taxes”, or 28 per cent of our total revenue, to the federal government to meet the increased defence expenditure necessitated by the “Confrontation” with Indonesia. In place of a $50 million gift to the Borneo territories, there would now be a $150 million loan, $100 million of which would be interest-free for five years. The common market would be implemented over 12 years, and Singapore would remain dutyfree for most important commodities in the entrepot trade. A special
board would gradually equalise tariffs over this period. But there was to be no oil-rich Brunei to sweeten the deal for the Tunku. The wily and cautious old sultan was not satisfied with the proposed division of oil revenues between them, and no pressure or threat from Sandys would move him. I saw the sultan in his Grosvenor House suite on several occasions to compare notes on the progress of our respective negotiations. I understood his qualms and reservations and never persuaded him to go against his instincts, which told him to remain under the protection of the British, confident they would not abandon him to the tender mercies of the Indonesians.

The Tunku arrived two days before the signing, which was scheduled for 8 July – another lucky 8 for an auspicious start for Malaysia. But the agreement could not be finalised until I had first got him to accept a number of conditions that had been the subject of earlier wrangling. He conceded that police powers to detain secret society gangsters should be delegated to the Singapore government, and a change in our constitution would stipulate that an assemblyman who left the party for which he had stood as candidate would have to vacate his seat. In addition, 50 per cent of the labour for the Borneo projects to be financed from the $150 million loan would come from Singapore.

Since the Tunku’s memory was elastic, I scribbled these points on the back of a used envelope I found on a side table in his hotel sitting-room, wrote “Ritz Hotel” as the letterhead, and got him to sign it. This last-minute haggling, and a dinner date with Macmillan, pushed the final ceremony at Marlborough House to late into the night of 8 July. By the time the speeches made by Macmillan, the Tunku, myself and the representatives of Sarawak and North Borneo were over, it was past midnight before the agreement was signed, and it was not dated 8, but 9 July – not an auspicious day in the Tunku’s calendar.

The British – Moore, Selkirk and Sandys – were really on my side. They had many cards. I had none. I could not do much myself except to threaten to throw in my hand and let the communists take over. In those six months, I wrote numerous letters to Selkirk in Singapore and to Sandys in London, urging, entreating and threatening in turn. Without their help, I could not have got my terms. Even so, as I had foreseen, I had much trouble getting them written into the constitution before Malaysia Day on 31 August. In the end, I had to settle for a flexible formula without a guarantee that a common market would come about, and the delegation of powers to Singapore to detain secret society gangsters was agreed upon only in an exchange of letters, which could easily be revoked. We had to go into Malaysia without these guarantees.

My scribbled points on the back of an envelope that the Tunku agreed to and signed, 7 July 1963:

Loan: Labourers – when outside Malaysia – 50% Singapore Singapore Legislative Assemblymen: resignation or expulsion – vacate seat so long as does not conflict with Parliamentary practice

Immigration and restriction order, movement reciprocal Gangsters Ordinance detention, delegate to us in Singapore Last part out – Inter-Govt Committee

As expected, my problems in Singapore did not decrease with the signing of the agreement. The Barisan remained obstreperous, and Lim Yew Hock and the SPA became bolder. Lim Yew Hock helped the Barisan block the Federal Elections Bill on 24 July, because he wanted the elections for Singapore’s 15 seats in the federal parliament to be held after the Tunku had taken control of the police. Even on the motion to adopt and support the Malaysia Agreement, the SPA abstained from voting, when it should have increased the majority in favour by seven votes and so shown solidarity on a vital national issue.

31. The Tide Turns

The ten months, December 1962 to September 1963, were the most hectic in my life. In addition to constant skirmishing with Tan Siew Sin and the Tunku’s ministers in Kuala Lumpur, and with Lim Yew Hock and his SPA and the Barisan in Singapore, there was the growing danger from Indonesia. I had to mobilise support for the next election, which I decided could not be delayed beyond merger. The communists had broken up our party branches when they split away from us, and smashed the People’s Association and the Works Brigade. To rebuild a strong PAP organisation would take at least two years, so Keng Swee and I decided on a simple strategy that we thought could make for a quick revival of our grassroots support.

From the Registry of Societies, we obtained the names and addresses of all office-bearers of the grassroots organisations, from Chinese clan associations and benevolent societies to the Chinese Chamber of Commerce and their regional branches, from retailers’ associations to sports and chess clubs and the lending libraries in the Naval Base. We excluded all the pro-communist organisations such as the old boys’ associations of the Chinese schools and Chinese musical associations.

Once the referendum was over, I began a series of visits to the constituencies, concentrating in the initial phase on those that had cast the most blank votes – rural areas (as they then were) like Jurong, Thomson, Kampong Kembangan and Jalan Kayu. I started with a full-day visit to one constituency every month, then increased it to one every two weeks, then one every week, and as Malaysia Day approached, to two, to three, to four tours a week. Finally, to complete all 51, I went
almost every day, sometimes visiting two or three urban constituencies in a single day until late at night.