The Singapore Story: Memoirs of Lee Kuan Yew (83 page)

As I was leaving, Ismail said, “Better keep these things quiet, otherwise it will be a big shock to the public, a flight of confidence, investors will flee, Sukarno will be the victor, and he will go on with Confrontation. Best put things down on a piece of paper and discuss. Best for me not to talk as they distrust me. There is now a deepening rift, UMNO distrusts MCA. MCA has to compete with PAP, so more chauvinist line. So back to the old position, trouble over Chinese education. In the end whether PAP or MCA, there is no difference, it’s Malays versus Chinese. Before the election, Tan Siew Sin suggested the Alliance merge into one party. Now he refuses as he knows the Chinese following will go to the PAP.”

He repeated several times, “Talk with Toh and Raja, their non-communal line we can agree in principle for next generation, but now the ground is communal. Let’s go along parallel lines for 15, 20 years, then merge the two societies. Singapore and Malaya, our histories are different, composition different.”

I stressed that a big obstacle was that Chin Chye, Raja, Nyuk Lin and Pang Boon were from the Federation, with families still there. Emotional ties made it very difficult for them to withdraw from Malaya. Ismail nodded in agreement.

Much as we tried to keep talks of new constitutional arrangements quiet, the bitter disputes we were engaged in did not go unnoticed by the British. They were wary of any move that might weaken the Malaysian merger and play into Sukarno’s hands.

On 28 July 1964, soon after the first communal riots, Keng Swee had met Antony Head, who commented that the UMNO leaders knew that in a political fight based on ideology and doctrine they would lose out to the PAP in the long run. Keng Swee outlined to Head Razak’s proposals for cooperation or coexistence. Head thought them unworkable. He said my resignation would not do any good. Demanding the dismissal of the boss of Singapore for trouble the Malays themselves had created might inflame Chinese feelings and in fact do considerable harm.

Head wanted the Tunku to return quickly from the United States and announce immediately the formation of a government that would, on the contrary, strengthen national unity in the face of Indonesian aggression. He had given London his views and it was likely that his prime minister would press the Tunku on this. He also viewed the situation in Sabah and Sarawak with grave concern because they were not adequately represented in cabinet; there was no point in Britain defending the frontiers while the rear disintegrated.

The Tunku came to Singapore on 18 August and told me that on his way back from Washington, he had stopped in London and seen the British prime minister, who had advised him that the best way to consolidate Malaysia after the communal riots in Singapore would be to form a coalition with the PAP. The Tunku said UMNO would never accept this, because, on our side, we could not accept the fundamental condition Razak had laid down, that we stay out of the Malay world.

By December 1964, both sides were groping towards a looser arrangement within the Federation. The Tunku asked me to put the ideas he had discussed with me in a paper in order to clarify what we were prepared to settle for. My memorandum, completed by 25 January 1965, proposed that we return to the position just before merger: all constitutional powers that were under the jurisdiction of the Singapore government would revert to it, the central government would be in charge of defence and external affairs in consultation with us, and we would share responsibility for security in the Internal Security Council. While these constitutional arrangements prevailed, Singapore citizens would be prohibited from participating in party political activities outside Singapore and likewise for Malaysians on the mainland.

The person most vehemently opposed to any temporary withdrawal from Malaysia was Raja. It would mean our isolation, he protested, and eventually we would be finished off by the extremists. He thought we should stay in the Federation to rally the people against extremists and thus stand a better chance of countering them. True to character, Raja never flinched from a fight, however nasty, when he was convinced we were in the right. Chin Chye was with him, but the majority of the cabinet supported me. I gave my memorandum to the Tunku a couple of days later and discussed it with him at the Residency for three hours on 31 January.

Chinese New Year and Hari Raya Puasa, the two biggest festivals of the Chinese and Malays, fell on the same day, 31 January, in 1965. In my message, I made a strong pitch for racial harmony to counter Indonesian propaganda, which had aggravated Malay-Chinese feelings. The appeal Sukarno was making to pan-Malayism had made UMNO emphasise its “Malayness” to outdo him. My message provoked a sharp response from the Tunku the next day:

“There are politicians who are charging the government with the use of strong-arm tactics to impose our will on others. We realise we are not only a strong government and also a just and good government, but to say that we employ strong-arm methods is not true. … These politicians talk of strife and strain, of trouble and bloodshed ahead, they talk of war … they produce gloom in the minds of the people wherever they go. … In this hour of trial and tribulation, such talk is indeed foolish and harmful and dangerous, and I say shame on them.”

I replied four days later, at a dinner given by the goodwill committees, that if we faced up to the unpleasant facts of life, we were more likely to resolve them than if we pretended they did not exist. Things were being said which, if allowed to go on, would lead to great unhappiness. I was referring to articles in the
Utusan Melayu
that continued to stoke up Malay feelings against me, the PAP and the Chinese. We published translations in English, Chinese and Tamil of these daily diatribes, and broadcast excerpts in all languages on radio and television. The Tunku knew I had seen through their tactics. He wanted me to keep quiet and talk things over with him privately. But I had first to expose to everyone the vicious racist campaign that Ja’afar Albar and the
Utusan
were conducting.

While the hard-hitting public exchanges continued, Keng Swee and I had private discussions with the Tunku, Razak and Ismail. I had proposed a disengagement for a few years, with a loosening of federal ties and the granting of more power to the Singapore state government, especially over police and internal security matters.

The alternative to cooperation in a national government would be a state of coexistence: Singapore would not be represented in the cabinet, but both governments would operate independently within their respective spheres of influence, which were to be agreed. However, their fundamental precondition for either cooperation or coexistence was that, not only in Malaya but even in Singapore itself, the PAP should stay
out of the Malay world and leave it entirely to UMNO to deal with the Malays through Khir Johari. UMNO must have the monopoly of Malay leadership, even in Singapore.

After several attempts at compromise arrangements, I concluded that the Tunku had hardened his stand. He was now determined to get us out of the federal parliament. He did not want us taking part in its debates at all. We were becoming too much of a thorn in their side, especially over finance. Singapore should start collecting its own taxes before the next budget, he said, but should pay a contribution to Malaysian defence since it would become prosperous, thanks to their common market.

“If you are out of parliament, we can be friends,” he said. “Better that way – if you are in parliament, you must criticise.”

But he appeared determined to have control of defence and external affairs. His argument was simple. “What will happen if Singapore opens up diplomatic relations with China and other communist countries? It will make nonsense of defence.”

From the very beginning, he had wanted the association with Singapore to be on a partnership basis, not a merger. His idea of our position was that of dominion status – “like Rhodesia”, Ismail said.

I told the Tunku that if we were to pay towards defence then we must be in parliament. There could not be taxation without representation. But he was emphatic; as I wrote to my cabinet colleagues, “his desire to get us out is implacable”. When I added that I might not be able to persuade them to accept my views, the Tunku burst out with considerable heat, “You tell them that I will not have Singapore, that is all. I do not want Singapore in parliament and they can do nothing about it.”

I asked Ismail the next day whether the Tunku understood my point, that he could not have us out of parliament and expect us to contribute towards defence and external affairs. Ismail replied, “Yes, the Tunku has appreciated that point. We can’t have it both ways.”

Not surprisingly, we made no progress with the “rearrangements” within the Federation that I had proposed in my memorandum of 25 January. After a meeting with the National Defence Council on 9 February, Razak told Keng Swee that it was impossible for the two sides to depart from political positions that had more or less solidified over the years. What was suitable for Singapore was not suitable for Malaysia and vice versa. Merger had been a mistake. There ought to have been a transition period to avoid a collision and it was now necessary to establish a looser form of confederation.

Keng Swee said that any constitutional rearrangement must not make Singapore appear a semi-colony. If Singapore left the federal parliament, it would be relinquishing its status and rights, and that would be a serious matter. He reiterated my idea that we should work towards the position that existed before Malaysia, and this time Razak agreed that something along those lines would be worked out.

These discussions about “rearrangements” were confusing and frustrating because the Tunku and Razak went backwards and forwards in their successive proposals. In the end nothing came of them, for one overriding reason: the British wanted no weakening of Malaysia during Confrontation, and Head had skilfully intervened, working on the Tunku, Razak and Ismail to block them.

On 15 February, Chin Chye, Kim San and I played golf with the Tunku. I mentioned casually that the British had guessed what was going on because a short while before, Lord Mountbatten, who had been visiting Kuala Lumpur and then Singapore, had expressed concern on behalf of his prime minister. The Tunku said he had told Mountbatten not to worry as he was fully aware of the danger of Indonesia benefiting from news that Malaysia was breaking up. But when we retired to his study, we discovered that his thinking on the rearrangements had changed after Mountbatten and Head had worked on him. Singapore would continue to be represented in the federal parliament, he now said. State
finances and powers of taxation would go back to Singapore, removing a major source of friction between us. As already proposed, defence and external affairs would be in the hands of the central government, while control of the police force and matters of local security would be vested in the Singapore government. But national security and intelligence (the Tunku referred to MI5 and MI6) must remain with the centre because otherwise – he repeated this three times – “What would happen if the PAP were not in power and some extreme-left party like Barisan were to take over? Singapore would become a Cuba.”

He then asked me to draft a letter he would write to Harold Wilson, to inform him of these arrangements and reassure him that Malaysia was not splitting up. I sent him a draft the next day.

All three of us from Singapore were convinced that the British had successfully scotched any idea he had of allowing the island to “hive off”, as the Tunku put it. He would later tell Keng Swee and me at the Residency that he now wanted to go about things slowly. He was afraid of any public disclosure that would give Sukarno an advantage.

Claude Fenner, the inspector-general of police, then came down from Kuala Lumpur to see me. He appeared resigned to giving Singapore control of its uniformed force, and satisfied we could maintain civil order in case of riots if we raised our own reserve units. He was convinced that once Malay extremists in Singapore knew the state government was in charge of security and could take action against them, there was likely to be little trouble. He seemed sincere, but I was mistaken in thinking that this was his final position. Five days later, he showed me a paper he had prepared for Ismail, arguing the exact opposite: neither the police nor state security should be handed over to Singapore. Like the Tunku, he had completely changed his position. He had brought Sir Roger Hollis, the head of MI5 who was visiting Kuala Lumpur, to see Ismail, and Hollis had convinced him that it was inadvisable, from a professional point of view, to divide the police in Singapore and the Federation. So
Ismail, in turn, suggested that the federal government should continue to look after law and order in Singapore, as at present. I asked whether the Tunku had also changed his mind. Ismail said he had not, but he had a duty to give him the professional advice he had received.

Soon afterwards, I had lunch with Head at his residence, Carcosa, with serious discussions 20 minutes before and 20 minutes after it. He had met the Tunku, Razak, Ismail and Tan earlier that day, and said the Tunku had set his mind on the latest rearrangements, but there were three spanners in the works. First, Tan was opposed to giving up control of finance. Second, Ismail objected to handing back to us control of police and security. Third, Singapore UMNO did not want to pipe down, let alone pack up. I told him that it was Fenner who had put the spanner in the works as far as control of the police was concerned. Unperturbed, Head said he had not gone into the matter with Fenner, but perhaps could do so later.