Kuala Lumpur at War 1939-1945 Page 2

  This activism was largely driven by a sense of nationalist outrage, though Lee Hau-Shik and other senior members of the KMT were also aware of the growing presence and challenge of the Malayan Communist Party (MCP), which offered a radical and aggressive political alternative to the mainstream Kuomintang. The old guard was having to watch its back and conservative businessmen were anxious to advance the nationalist cause, and to do so publicly through fund-raising and political demonstrations of support. Other local Chinese towkays publicly supported the war effort. In Kuala Lumpur, the tin mine and plantation owner Yeow Kim Pong contributed $2,000 to the Patriotic Fund and also arranged – though it is not clear if they were consulted – that the workers on his two estates would contribute one per cent of their wages for the duration of the war. Meanwhile another prominent towkay, Chan Wing, who made his fortune from the Hong Fatt Tin Mine at Sungei Besi (creating along the way the world’s largest and deepest open cast tin mine, now flooded and called the Mines Resort), donated a much more impressive $120,000 to the China War Relief Fund and then in 1940 bought a $38,000 aeroplane for the Chinese nationalist air force.

  Challenging these wealthy men for the hearts-and-minds of Selangor’s Chinese community were hardened communist agitators, such the Secretary of the Selangor MCP, Xue Feng. In good revolutionary style he also operated under various aliases - ‘Li Xue-feng’, ‘Bai Yi’ and ‘Li Liang’ - and like most of the MCP leadership had been born in China, in his case in Taishan in Guangdong Province in 1911. Xue Feng, however, was a watched man. The focus of British security concerns was the anti-colonialist, anti-capitalist MCP. In 1938, a strike at the Batu Arang coal mine north of Kuala Lumpur, which had been supported by the communists, was broken up by the authorities, with some violence. Later the police - not ones to underplay the threat - noted that ‘the Federated Malay States has passed through the most serious crisis in its history. It was within an ace of dissolving into temporary chaos as a result of communist intrigue. Had the organisation not been crushed this country… would have been overrun by angry and desperate Chinese mobs’. There was exaggeration and hyperbole in this assessment, but a combination of straightened economic times in Malaya and reverses in Manchuria had raised the political temperature amongst the Chinese. The MCP - almost until the day the Japanese landed – formed the centre of British security interest.

  The political activism demonstrated by the Kuomintang and their MCP rivals was not shared by all, or indeed by many, of Kuala Lumpur’s Chinese community. While all Chinese felt a common antipathy towards the Japanese, most were pre-occupied with parochial issues and certainly few, if any, felt that Britain’s fight in Europe against Germany had anything to do with them. Kinship and family were of primary concern, but so too were day-to-day matters such as earning a living and surviving in Malaya’s rugged commercial environment. Wong Ah Leng, a Chinese trader in Port Swettenham, was representative of this silent majority. Running a small shop in the centre of the town, events unfolding in Europe held little or no interest for him. His focus was on family, turnover, margins and unpaid debt.

  In Kuala Lumpur’s small Japanese community, Ayabe Kuichiro, a dentist with a small establishment in Pudu that doubled as a barber’s shop, was also little bothered by events unravelling in Europe. Since the Anglo-Japanese Friendship Agreement of 1902, the Japanese business community in British Malaya had slowly built up its numbers, even though ‘friendship’ between the two nations had long since become a distant memory. The Japanese were particularly active in the non-federated states, such as Kelantan and Terengannu, where on-shore they owned and ran iron-ore and bauxite mines, and off-shore they ran an aggressive fishing fleet. In Selangor, the Japanese community was less prominent but was nonetheless a significant niche player in the local economy. In Kuala Lumpur, the Japanese were well represented in certain trades and professions, notably ‘teeth and photographs, haircuts and sukiyaki’. Even that icon of British colonial rule, the Selangor Club, had a Japanese barber. He was reportedly the best in Kuala Lumpur, though was boycotted by many of the club’s Chinese members.Japanese geishas, or ‘Marys’, in their elaborate traditional costumes and heavy make-up, had previously been an exotic addition to the brothels of Singapore and Penang, though there is no evidence any had worked in Kuala Lumpur and from the 1930s the Japanese government had banned Japanese girls working abroad as geishas.

  Elsewhere in Selangor, there were a handful of Japanese traders and shipping managers at Port Swettenham and a number of rubber plantations in the state were owned and managed by Japanese. According to one Japanese researcher, pre-war across Malaya over 800,000 acres of rubber smallholdings and estates, fully one quarter of Malaya’s total, were owned and operated by the Japanese. The bulk of these rubber operations appear to have been in Johor, and the older and more established rubber industry of Selangor remained dominated by British and Chinese interests.

  Nevertheless, Japanese companies such as Nanyo Gomu and Nissan Norin owned and ran extensive rubber estates in southern and northern Selangor respectively. The Japanese generally failed, however, to register their large economic interests in Malaya’s two main business directories, the ‘Directory of Malaya’ and ‘The Singapore and Malayan Directory’, highlighting the extent to which they operated a discrete and semi-independent ‘economy within an economy’.

  The Japanese community was introverted and secretive. Language difficulties were part of the problem, but so too was an inherent hostility towards them by the majority Chinese and the increasing antipathy of colonial British, who were worried by Tokyo’s aggressive and militant stance. The Japanese residents of Kuala Lumpur, therefore, would have felt themselves very isolated – a small inward community surrounded by largely antagonistic neighbours. Kuala Lumpur had no Japanese consulate but officials visited from Singapore. They had a voracious appetite for information of all sorts. There were few defence or strategic secrets of interest concerning Kuala Lumpur itself, but the identification of anti-Japanese figures within the Chinese community, men like Lee Hau-Shik and Xue Feng, was noteworthy. Quiet, unobtrusive businessmen such as Ayabe Kuichiro were part of a network of eyes-and-ears, and willingly and patriotically imparted snippets of information to visiting intelligence officers.

  Chapter Two

  War with Germany

  On 3 September 1939, Britain and its dominions and colonies declared war on Germany. As an immediate consequence, the colonial authorities in Malaya imposed a State of Emergency which amongst other things allowed them to censor mail and punish the spreading of ‘disaffection’. They also arrested and interned all adult male German, Austrian and Czech nationals, while women and children were told to report to the police. This process was made more complicated by the fact that most German and Austrian passport holders in Malaya were Jews fleeing persecution from the Nazis. To separate refugees from potential combatants, Superintendent J.P. Pennefather-Evans, Selangor’s Acting Chief Police Officer, personally assessed each case. There proved to be eighteen German, Czech and Austrian nationals in Selangor but following Pennefather-Evans’ work just two were interned; and one of them was a Czech passport holder and a member of the British Volunteer force! Both were initially sent to Pudu Prison in Kuala Lumpur and later joined twenty-five other internees on St John’s Island off Singapore. Later six German passport holders were detained at Port Swettenham (today’s Port Klang); sailors from the German merchant marine caught at the wrong place at the wrong time.

  Two days after the declaration of war, Governor Shenton Thomas broadcast a radio message to rally the colony behind the war effort. Paradoxically, he instructed that ‘Europeans must not leave to enlist in home forces’ but should rather ‘carry on their normal work, which is of imperial importance and to be available in case their services are needed for local defences.’ Malaya was a source of strategic commodities (rubber, tin and copra) which required British leadership and expertise, and it was in the broader British national interest that nationals should remain in p
lace. The Governor’s message was soon backed by other senior figures in Malaya, not least Sultan Alam Shah of Selangor. He declared that ‘Great Britain and her allies represent the democracies, that is countries in which the government is by the people for the people. Germany and her partners, on the other hand, are powers which do as they like. Their creed is might, and they disregard right, freedom and justice’.

  The American journalist, Cecil Brown later noted, ‘That Sultan, I thought, expressed in simple, clear language pretty much what this war is all about.’

  For Malaya, the impact of the war with Germany, at least from an economic perspective, was initially entirely positive. Increased demand led to higher prices for Malaya’s resources which in turn brought revived prosperity. In Kuala Lumpur ‘land owners were in a position to pay their land rents in time… income from land sales, licences and rents were all up’. In 1939, though Selangor suffered from a severe drought, the state’s economy boomed on the back of rising tin and rubber prices. The 1947 census compiler later noted that ‘At the time of the Japanese attack there was full employment, for not only were the two major industries [tin and rubber] engaged in all out production but the Government’s policy of increasing the acreage devoted to food production, and in particular to padi, was taking increasing effect.’

  The increased demand for Malaya’s commodities was not without difficulties. While business and industries undoubtedly benefited, simmering labour issues came to the fore. In late 1939, Governor Shenton Thomas noted that a ‘contagion of strikes and labour disputes’ was, if anything, exacerbated by rising demand as ‘The labourer knows perfectly well how his particular industry is prospering or not, and it is in times of prosperity, not a slump, that strikes are most common.’ Further complicating British concerns was the spread of ‘subversive’ ideology which was anti-colonial and anti-capitalist in character (i.e. communist). Shenton Thomas would note that strikes and labour unrest were inflamed by a ‘dangerous combination of political and semi-political organisations in Malaya, which is ostensibly anti-Japanese in aim, is all the more formidable in that it may become an anti-Japanese cum anti-British movement’. The Governor concluded ‘we might have to face the menace of subversive agitation if the combination of increasing profits and increasing costs of living were not sedulously watched’.

  At this stage of the war the British security authorities focused largely on the threat from communist subversion, which led to the detention under special provisions of known left-wing activists. Their task was made easier by the fact that the Police Intelligence Department was running as an intelligence source the Secretary-General of the MCP, Lai Teck. In Singapore and to a lesser extent Penang, the British security apparatus was also engaged in countering increasing Japanese intelligence activities.

  A spy ring was identified and expelled from Singapore and in Penang visiting Japanese ‘tourists’ were seen reconnoitring the airfield and the port areas. There is little evidence of pre-war Japanese intelligence activity centred on and around Kuala Lumpur, and the absence of a Japanese consulate in the city meant that its agencies did not have a secure base from which to work. Nevertheless, given knowledge of how the Japanese operated elsewhere, it is highly likely that their military intelligence agencies exploited Japanese nationals living and working in Kuala Lumpur. The Japanese had a voracious appetite for information of all types – much of it non-secret in nature. Certainly when their forces later arrived in Kuala Lumpur, they came with a blacklist of known Chinese ‘opponents’, which can only have been garnered by pre-war intelligence gathering.

  In 1939 and early 1940 there was little or no appreciation by the British security apparatus of the threat posed by Malay nationalists and little recognition of the depth of antipathy felt towards them by many within the Indian community. Amongst the British there was a generally held belief that the main communities, save left-wing elements, were generally supportive. But this proved a naïve misreading of the situation. They would have been wise to have directed much greater focus on the likes of Samad Ahmad, the KMM member and journalist. The KMM magazine Majlis sought to promote social, political and nationalist awareness amongst Malays. The magazine was not without its own issues, not least an early dependence on beer advertising (alcohol being forbidden in Islam), but its content reflected a growing nationalist agenda and increasing ambition amongst the professional and educated class of Malays. The extent to which in the pre-war years the KMM was actively subversive is questionable but in late 1941, when the British finally awoke to the latent threat from Malay nationalists, they reacted in a heavy-handed and unfocused manner, having hitherto been preoccupied by the communists.

  An Atmosphere of Unreality

  For the first two years of the war against Germany (later to include Italy) the British community in Malaya was a largely distant observer in the battle for national survival. The press faithfully carried articles about the Blitz and heavy fighting in the Middle East and Russia. These were given the best possible spin by the propagandists but there was no getting away from the fact that Britain was in a bad way. There was of course great concern amongst Kuala Lumpur’s small European community, and all had relatives and friends back home who were directly affected by war. But on a day-to-day basis life in Kuala Lumpur carried on much as it ever had – and it was a pretty good life. There was no rationing and large houses and a host of servants allowed for an existence very different from that in Britain, which was experiencing bombing, nightly blackouts and shortages of food and fuel. The contrast was stark and news in the press of military checks and reversals (however positively spun) juxtaposed advertisements for dances, movies, dinner-plays and sports events.

  From early 1941, when regular British troops began to arrive in Malaya with direct experience of war time Britain, the lifestyle and attitudes of the white colonial community came under scrutiny and not a little criticism. The Commander-in-Chief of British Forces, General Percival, later wrote, ‘… an atmosphere of unreality hung over Malaya. In the restaurants, clubs, and places of entertainment peace time conditions prevailed. Having just come from England, where austerity measures had already become the fashion, I must confess to the rather uncomfortable feeling when provided with an almost unlimited amount of food….I am afraid it is true that long immunity from war had made it difficult to face realities in Malaya’.

  Given the suffering that the European community would later experience under the Japanese, these criticisms might seem misplaced, and there was certainly little to be gained in practical terms by Malaya’s colonial society changing its privileged lifestyle. But its mindset reflected an inward and conservative community that was ill-prepared for the onslaught it would soon face. The letters page of the Malay Mail gives some idea of prevailing attitudes. One such letter in early 1941 criticised the imposition of petrol rationing and was signed off anonymously by ‘Fair Minded’. At this stage in the war, Britain was experiencing the nightly Blitz and U-boats were wreaking havoc with the merchant marine in the Atlantic convoys. In these circumstances to complain about the introduction of petrol rationing reflected an incredible myopia and was hardly ‘fair minded’. Once the war started to go badly, the caricature of ‘Colonel Blimp’, created by the cartoonist David Low with Malaya in mind, came to epitomise, fairly or unfairly, buffooning colonial incompetence.

  The Japanese Threat Rises

  While the war in Europe and North Africa was going badly for the British, the position in Asia proved no less worrying. Early Japanese assertions that it would not attack European colonial possessions looked increasingly hollow in the face of ever hardening militaristic rhetoric. For Malaya, the strategic threat was to change with the defeat of France in June 1940 and the emergence of Vichy regimes in its Indochina possessions. In September 1940, the Imperial Chiefs of Staff noted that with the fall of France ‘we cannot assume that the use of French bases will anywhere be denied to our enemies’. The threat of a Japanese attack from bases in French Indo-China immediate
ly challenged the basis of pre-war British planning. Long-standing defence plans were now redundant and in its place the threat was from a landing on the beaches of north-east Malaya and a subsequent land and air assault down the Malayan peninsula. In British long-term planning, Malaya was divided into three main sectors. Singapore was the core of the defence plan and a sector in its own right; thereafter there was an outer-zone based on Johor at the southern end of the Malay peninsula. Finally, there was the rest of Malaya, which was to be commanded and controlled from Kuala Lumpur. The hitherto ‘outer’ defensive sector suddenly found itself to be the likely first-line of defence.

  The 2nd Battalion of the Federated Malay States Volunteer Force

  From late 1940, in response to the increased threat from Japan, the British started to beef up defences and to deploy increasing numbers of British and imperial forces to Malaya. Even before this, they had turned to the local British community, in the form of the militia or the Volunteers, to buttress defences. The role of the Volunteers was to ‘assist in the defence of Malaya against external aggression and to assist the Civil Power in the suppression of local disturbances if required’. The composition of the Volunteer forces reflected the complexity of British Malaya, as each force was ‘raised within various governments’. Selangor contributed the 2nd Battalion of the Federated Malay States Volunteer Force (FMSVF) and half of the light battery (Perak provided the remainder). Similar levies were raised in Perak, Negri Sembilan and Pahang. The FMSVF in turn was part of a wider grouping that comprised counterparts from the Straits Settlements of Singapore, Malacca and Penang and from the Non-Federated Malay States of Johor, Kedah and Kelantan. In August 1940, the authorities designated the civilian flying clubs of Singapore, Ipoh, Kuala Lumpur and Penang as separate ‘flights’ of the No 1 Squadron Volunteer Air Force. Its roles were to be reconnaissance, local defensive patrolling and, optimistically, ‘offensive action in special circumstances with low dive and low level bombing attacks’. The Kuala Lumpur flight comprised six Tiger Moth trainers.