The Emergency Days ….

8 September 2014

(Reprinted from The Edge – Options pullout, 8 September 2014 issue)

Dear Kam,
Although I obviously support 100% whoever it is that wants my support, I can’t help wondering about the Sedition Act. Sorry, I take that back, forget I said anything.
It wasn’t Me

So I finally read the Sedition Act (1948) and, wow. I’m not a lawyer so I don’t really know these things but it appears to me that it covers just about everything. You remember when you were a kid and you wanted to do something and your parents said “No” and you said “Why?” and then they said “Because we said so.” Well, I think it’s a bit like that.

What really caught my eye was that this law was introduced in 1948. My maths is not very good but with the help of my fingers, I managed to calculate that this was nine years before Malayan Independence. That was a very long time ago and to give an idea of how much things have changed since then: the England football team beat Portugal 10-0 and Italy 4-0 in 1948. Oh, and the Internet hadn’t been invented yet. It wasn’t even available as dial-up.

It was an interesting and difficult year for the British in Malaya. The British had only recently returned to Malaya at the end of the Second World War in 1945. The Japanese occupation had destroyed the economy and Malayans had been changed forever by the shocking upheaval. The tin-mining and rubber industries were experiencing strikes and the Emergency began in 1948 when several British planters were murdered by communists. It was important that Malaya be stabilised as quickly as possible because Malaya made money (more money than British India ever did) and Britain was flat-out broke with many of its cities still bomb sites from the war. Britain still had global commitments but no money.

We also have to look at events beyond Britain and Malaya to fully understand the context of why the British introduced the Sedition Act in 1948 because these were having a strong influence on Malayan hearts and minds. Just one year earlier, India, Pakistan, Burma and Ceylon had gained their independence from Britain. An independent Republic of Indonesia had been unilaterally proclaimed in 1945 (and it’s important to remember that it’s a republic) but the Dutch wanted their colonies back and with the help of the British Army, there was some very, very heavy fighting. By 1948, it was obvious that the Dutch had failed and that Indonesian independence would become a reality (the Dutch recognised Indonesian independence in 1949). Ho Chi Minh was leading a successful war for independence in French Indochina and Mao’s communists were on the verge of ultimate victory in China (the People’s Republic of China was declared in 1949). In today’s Malaysia, it is easy to forget now just how important culturally, politically and economically were countries like India, Burma, Ceylon and the Dutch East Indies. These countries were more than just our geographical neighbours, they were our world in an age before jet travel could get us to the heart of Europe in 12 hours. Hugely influential India could have become a constitutional monarchy (they certainly had enough Maharajahs) but instead, India decided to become a republic. Republicanism was everywhere. Could it come here?

In 1948, Malaya was seemingly surrounded by left-wing, independent and republican movements and there was a fear (not unfounded) that Malayans would find them attractive. Nineteen hundred and forty-eight was a year of existential crisis for the British in Malaya because they did not want to lose influence in a future independent Malaya and have British businesses be nationalised. Something had to be done to stop any dissent in its tracks. The Sedition Act had been around in England since the time of Queen Elizabeth I (the Elizabeth who watched Shakespeare world premieres). It was dusted off and introduced into Malaya. Don’t question us, better people than you know what to do, move along, go back to work, keep your heads down, etc.

It could be argued that the Sedition Act had served its intended purpose well (although it could also be argued that the British didn’t need something so all-encompassing in order to succeed). Over the next nine years, the communist threat was essentially broken (sadly, more fighting was required) and the disparate elements of Malayan society were drawn together with a vision for the future that almost all could readily accept. The benign and graciously tolerant character of Tunku Abdul Rahman deserves more respect than he gets for achieving this minor miracle. Negotiations went on until practically the very last minute but on Aug 31, 1957, independence came to Malaya. Independent Malaya would be a democracy with a written constitution, with citizenship for all (Tunku insisted on that) and it would be a constitutional monarchy in the mould of Britain’s constitutional monarchy. If 1948 had been a crisis year, then the British had weathered the storm. Malaya was now an independent democracy and it was now time for the British to exit the stage.

The British did leave (their influence and businesses intact for many years to come) but they left behind the Sedition Act. They didn’t leave it behind because they were forgetful (“Now where did I put that Sedition Act? I swear it was here a minute ago”). It had not been in their interest to ever repeal the law because the Malaya they governed was not a democracy. They had ruled by edict. Their form of government was accountable to nobody. This was not a system designed for any questioning unless invited. Fortunately, we’re not like that anymore.

For anybody with a more literary turn of mind, then 1948 is best remembered as the year when the British author George Orwell wrote his novel 1984. He had served in the British colonial police force in Burma where he developed a hatred for empire with its promise of violence and need to repress independent thought. He wrote two very good short stories from his Burma experiences about an elephant hunt and an execution. He later fought in the Spanish Civil War on the losing Republican (anti-Fascist) side where his particular group was crushed not by the enemy but his own side.

Orwell’s experiences helped him to imagine the bleak world of 1984. It’s a totalitarian state that claims to be constantly at war, constantly under external and internal threat (although the war might not actually be happening), where an elite Inner Party and their ever-hopeful Outer Party rule over the utterly irrelevant Proles. It’s a state where blind obedience is not enough but that everybody must truly believe its fictions and where thought itself is a crime. It is the world of Big Brother. Now most people would read 1984 and think, “What a terrible world. We must make sure this never happens.” But I’m sure some people would read 1984 and think, “Hmm, now that’s a terrific idea.”

Reprinted with the kind permission of