The Singapore Story: Memoirs of Lee Kuan Yew (72 page)

I told Selkirk on 4 September that if the points of agreement between the Tunku and myself were not honoured by nomination day, I would fight the election on a platform of independence and immediately ask a number of countries for recognition as from 16 September. For any
further evasion could only mean that the Malay leaders intended to crush Singapore, and I would be ashamed to accept responsibility for entering Malaysia on such terms. Selkirk reported to Sandys that I showed intellectual arrogance, adding the following day:

“I consider he is now playing a supreme act of brinkmanship. He believes his position is inviolable. He believes that either he comes into Malaysia on his own terms or he declares independence and can make any terms he likes with us because he is satisfied we would under no circumstances give up our military position in Singapore. He believes, probably rightly, that he could win an election on the slogan of independence interspersed with bitter comments on the Malays and ourselves who he will say are seeking to destroy the hard won position of advantage of the Chinese in Singapore. … I believe he still basically wants to come into Malaysia. We should therefore press the Malays to meet him fully on the relatively small points still outstanding.”

I then declared publicly that I had given Sandys until 12 September “to sort out certain matters with regard to the Malaysia Agreement”. I was playing my last card to get the undertakings the Tunku had given me in London written into the constitution or into a proper document. The British took my threat seriously, but after seeing Razak and Ismail in Kuala Lumpur, Geofroy Tory reported on 5 September that “neither … showed any qualms about going through with Malaysia whatever Lee did”. Sandys above all was enraged that things might go wrong at the last moment, and the same day reported to Harold Macmillan, his prime minister, in angry terms:

“He realises that his declaration has no legal validity and that the British government would not tolerate any attempt by him actually to exercise powers which he purports to have assumed. On the other hand, this act of public defiance towards Britain and Malaya has no doubt helped to strengthen the public image of himself which he wishes to create.

“He is not a man who climbs down. Once he has committed himself to a definite course and has accepted a carefully calculated risk, he is likely to go through with it, for better or worse. Therefore if we were to humiliate him publicly, he would, I believe, retaliate with further acts of defiance of one kind or another and we might very quickly be forced to suspend the constitution.

“If the transfer to Malaysia of sovereignty over Singapore were to take place at a time when the constitution was suspended we would be accused throughout the world of handing over the people of Singapore against their will. Thus it seemed to me that, even at the risk of appearing feeble, it was in our interest to do everything possible to avoid that situation.

“In recent weeks Lee threatened that, if the Malayan government did not give him what he demanded, he would hold elections and seek a vote of confidence from the people. Now he has done it. The Singapore parliament has been dissolved. Nomination day has been fixed for September 12th. Polling day will probably be about ten days later (i.e., after Malaysia Day).

“Lee has so far not announced the issues on which he will fight the election. But he is threatening that, unless the Malayan government give him satisfaction on various points connected with the Malaysia Agreement, he will declare independence on September 12th and will ask the electors of Singapore to endorse this with their votes.

“Tun Razak assured me that the Malayan government were irrevocably committed to Malaysia, and that they would go through with it whatever happened. I believe that he speaks for most of the ministers but I am not so completely confident about the attitude of the Tunku himself. As I told you in an earlier telegram he is suffering seriously from cold feet and although I think it unlikely, it is just possible that at the last moment he might refuse to take over Singapore … This would obviously face us with a most awkward dilemma which I will not discuss now.

“With these uncomfortable possibilities in mind, it is of the utmost importance to avoid if at all possible a head-on collision
with Lee between now and September 16th. I have therefore strongly urged the Malayan government to concede as far as they possibly can the demands which Lee has made regarding the Malaysia constitution. Most of them are not unreasonable and are based upon rather loosely worded undertakings given by the Tunku to Lee in London, though admittedly Lee is trying to interpret these undertakings in a manner excessively favourable to himself.

“But even if he gets his way on all points I do not put it past Lee to think up a new set of demands. I think therefore that it is wise to assume that we are going to have trouble and to prepare for the worst.

“The concessions which I hope to persuade the Malayan government to make may induce Lee to go into Malaysia quietly. But unless I mistake his character, he will bluff, bully and blackmail up to the eleventh hour. In these circumstances it seems to me essential that I should remain on the spot. This will I hope enable me:

(a)   To restrain the Malayan government from adopting a provocative or over-intransigent attitude towards Lee.

(b)   To try and help the two of them reach agreement and

(c)   To stiffen the Tunku’s resolve to go through with Malaysia if he should show signs of wavering. It would seem silly for the sake of a few days not to do everything in my power to save Malaysia from the possibility of collapse, with all that that would imply.

“Consequently, if you approve, I propose to remain in this area until we have put Singapore safely in the bag on 16 September. In that case I could stay on the extra two days for the Malaysia celebrations. This would make it unnecessary to find another cabinet colleague to take this on.”

But I had no intention of wrecking Malaysia. Having negotiated at several constitutional conferences, I knew the legal position only too well: once I was in Malaysia, not only would the army and the police be under the control of Kuala Lumpur, but Kuala Lumpur could declare
a state of emergency and govern by decree. So I wanted as many safeguards built into the constitution or spelt out in official documents as possible in case the federal government decided to do anything stupid.

The British were with me, and the pressure I applied through them worked. By 7 September, the Malayan attorney-general and Razak between them had endorsed all the items in question except the delegation to Singapore of the right to detain secret society gangsters. They did not want this to be in the constitution and I had to be content with a simple letter of authority. On 11 September, I announced that the differences between us had been settled. It could be said that by using the colonial power to coerce the Malayan leaders, I was earning ill-will and storing up trouble for the future. But my unilateral declaration of independence had been necessary in order to warn the British that I could make things difficult for them and for the Tunku if he did not fulfil his promises. My methods succeeded, but at a price. The Tunku and Razak were confirmed in their view that I was a difficult man to handle, and from then on they would always be guarded when dealing with me.

On the very morning of nomination day, I completed my last speech-making tour in the Mountbatten ward after visiting three constituencies during the night. I got home at 7 am to the sound of crackers fired by my neighbours in Oxley Road. They knew there was a critical fight ahead and they were cheering me on. Six hours after the closure of nominations, the government announced that voting would be on 21 September, in other words, five days after we joined Malaysia. If Malaysia had not come by then and the Barisan won the election, then we, Singapore, the British and the Malayans would all be in trouble. Surely this would allow the Tunku no other way but to go through with it on the 16th as scheduled, I argued. I also wanted most of the campaign to take place while we still controlled the police and the administrative machinery of the elections, and the gangsters – including Chua Hoe Ann, Lim Yew Hock’s chief
supporter – were still in detention. I had earlier turned down the Tunku’s request to release Chua.

Two days before Malaysia Day, 16 September, UN Secretary-General U Thant announced that according to the UN survey, a sizeable majority of the people of Sarawak and Sabah wished to join Malaysia. The next day, Indonesia and the Philippines recalled their ambassadors from Kuala Lumpur and declared that they would not recognise Malaysia, and on 16 September huge crowds gathered in Jakarta for an organised display of “popular rage”, then the conventional third world protocol for diplomatic protest.

Thousands of demonstrators, screaming
“Ganjang
Malaysia” (Crush Malaysia), stormed the British and Malayan embassies. They burst into the first floor of the British embassy building to destroy furnishings and fittings, and for 90 minutes hurled stones and chunks of concrete from outside, smashing every window. With the missiles falling around him, the British assistant military attaché marched up and down in the uniform of an SAS major, playing his bagpipes in full view of the rioters. Policemen tried to drag him behind a pillar, but he broke free to resume playing. When the British ambassador, Andrew Gilchrist, appeared and was told by representatives of the mob that they would fight for the freedom from imperialism of the people of North Borneo, he responded,
“Hidup
U Thant!” (Long Live U Thant), and speaking in Indonesian pointed out that the United Nations had endorsed Malaysia. These acts of British defiance provoked the Indonesians into setting fire to the embassy, ran-sacking it two days later, and manhandling members of the staff, including the ambassador himself. The Indonesians also attacked the Malayan embassy, but the ambassador was not available. To return the compliment, angry mobs sacked the Indonesian embassy in Kuala Lumpur.

On 16 September, we held a second ceremony, this time with Sandys representing Britain and Ismail representing Malaya, standing with me on the steps of City Hall as I declared Singapore a part of Malaysia and
pledged the loyalty of its people to the federal government. The Tunku was not aware that it was my 40th birthday. If he had been, he might well have changed the date – my birthday could not be his lucky day. The following morning, I flew to Kuala Lumpur for the official ceremony at the Merdeka Stadium. The air was laden with the menace of Sukarno’s Confrontation, and the Tunku’s dread of what he might do was felt by all his ministers. On the way to the stadium, I ran into Selkirk in his tropical white ceremonial uniform, making his last appearance as commissioner-general for Southeast Asia. He, too, looked somewhat tense and harassed, but I took heart from the resolve of the British, which I felt was firm and strong. I had no doubt they would see Malaysia through in spite of anything Sukarno could do.

The ceremony over, I flew back to Singapore and resumed campaigning for the next four days. The PAP fielded candidates in all 51 constituencies, the Barisan and the UPP 46, the Singapore Alliance 42, the Partai Rakyat three, the Workers’ Party three, and independents 16. All parties shared radio and television time in proportion to the number of their candidates. It was amazing the speed with which a relatively tranquil city suddenly came alive with eager beavers scurrying around, putting up posters and banners and distributing pamphlets. The PAP campaign was the climax of my constituency tours of the past 10 months, and Keng Swee convinced the election committee that I should be the focus. I was the target of the MCP’s wrath, and the PAP’s response would be the more dramatic if it were built around me personally to show people that the communists had failed to destroy me. We had only one campaign poster, a picture of me taken during one of my constituency visits bedecked with a huge Indian garland, my right arm raised, smiling and waving to the crowds.

The Barisan put up posters of their detained leaders, especially of Lim Chin Siong, to arouse the faithful and win the sympathy vote. Once the campaign got going, their supporters went all out to muster votes,
and their underground organisations and united front groups sprang to life to throw in everything they could mobilise. They held large rallies at which they poured forth a stream of vituperation against me and – what was new – spewed out hatred against the right-wing reactionaries, namely the Tunku and the feudal Malays. Four days before polling, Dr Lee Siew Choh reiterated his opposition to Malaysia and took the side of the Indonesians against the Tunku. This made our earlier warning that a vote for the Barisan was a vote for Sukarno even more credible. At a huge lunchtime rally, I predicted that the communists would dive underground for cover after we had won. As expected, the election was a fight between the Barisan and the PAP.

My eve-of-poll broadcast nevertheless concentrated on getting the Alliance out of the way to minimise splitting the non-communist vote. The MCA knew by now that they could not win, and preferred to have the Barisan win so that Kuala Lumpur could suspend the state constitution, institute direct rule, and take over lock, stock and barrel – a simple if naive solution to a most complex problem. The Singapore government would have control of a budget half that of the centre, and a radio and television station more powerful than that of Kuala Lumpur. In the hands of communists with links to the Indonesian Communist Party, it would bring calamity upon Malaysia. The constitutional safeguards we had agreed upon would work only if the PAP were in power. The choice before the people was clear and simple.

Philip Moore reported to London:

“… There are very few independent observers now who will confidently predict an overall PAP majority in the Assembly, i.e. 26 seats or more. … The strength of the PAP seems to lie in the highly effective strong government which they have exercised in Singapore over the last 18 months. … The weakness of the PAP lies primarily in their lack of party organisation in the constituencies and in particular among the Chinese-speaking members of electorate,
who number 63 per cent. … But Lee himself was full of confidence on the telephone this afternoon. He was, however, furious with the Tunku for having come down to Singapore yesterday (19 September) and intervened in the campaign.