If the year 1963 was the pivotal year for the project, it was an even more important year for North Borneo. To quote Dr Mahathir Mohamad, the Prime Minister a decade or two later, it marked ‘the transformation of Sabah from a colonial backwater to a dynamic state within Malaysia’.
In June, Governor Sir William and his wife came up to the estate for their farewell visit. He had an informal chat with me before the farewell party which the workers had prepared for him. He said that Datu Mustapha, who had emerged as the leader of North Borneo’s Muslim minority, was something of an enigma to the expatriate community in Jesselton. He knew that Datu Mustapha had visited our project and had stayed with us on a couple of occasions. He asked my candid opinion of him as a future head of state.
I told him that, when Datu Mustapha stayed with us in the interior and when I had been with him on his home ground in Kudat, he was a very different man to what he was when he was in Jesselton in the company of expatriate officials. With us, he had been friendly and completely relaxed.
I said that, in my opinion, Datu Mustapha was a remarkable man on several counts. He had two qualities in great measure. Firstly, he had the air of effortless authority that marks a natural leader. Tasman and his friends in the Bayok, and Mandore Dick and his Cocos Islanders had all joined USNO, the local political party, as a result of meeting him. They all respected him greatly.
Secondly, Datu Mustapha was reputed locally to be a man of great courage. Ibrahim had known him years ago on visits to Kudat. He had once been with Datu Mustapha on a kumpit in a particularly fierce storm in the Sulu Sea. Datu Mustapha had been completely fearless even when they were in danger of sinking. Ibrahim said he had been very impressed – and it took a lot to impress Ibrahim!
Mandore Dick and I took the opportunity to raise with Sir William the problems that the Cocos Island community was facing. They had, since arriving in North Borneo, become full citizens. However, unlike most other local races, they had no kampong of their own outside the estate. We asked if the government could grant leases to plots of land up the Tungud River, adjacent to our northern boundary.
What we had in mind was that each family would get a strip of perhaps seven acres of land running down to the river. We would provide them with a house. I suggested that perhaps the government Agricultural Department could provide them with four acres of oil palm, a few coconut trees and some fruit trees. When the oil palm matured, they could sell the fruit to our mill and this would provide them with a useful source of additional income.
Sir William, when he was the Chief Secretary of Singapore, had been involved with Clunies Ross and the evacuation of the surplus Cocos Island community. He had taken an interest in their welfare ever since. He promised that he would do something swiftly. He was as good as his word. In a very short time, the area was surveyed and each Cocos family received an official lease for a plot of land, amidst great rejoicing.
We then encountered a problem. I wrote to the Chairman in London asking permission to provide about $80,000 for the building materials. I said that I thought this would be, on our part, a wise investment. The Cocos Islanders had become the backbone of our workforce. We owed them a great deal. They were particularly skilled as tradesmen. They were already providing the bulk of our carpenters, drivers, tractor drivers and bulldozer operators; and, when the palm oil mill came to be built, they would provide the artisans to man it.
Not only that, but some of the young Cocos girls had married immigrant workers and encouraged them to settle down on the estate. If we had a Cocos village on our boundary, it would be a stabilising factor and a source of local labour in years to come. It would also be a source of goodwill with the new state government.
My appeal unfortunately fell on deaf ears. In his reply, David Martin wondered if I had taken leave of my senses. At a time, he wrote, when we were desperately trying to keep expenditure within our budget and had almost been wiped out by the floods, I was proposing to spend money to build houses on land which did not belong to us, and over which we had no control. The answer was absolutely no! I should forget the whole idea and concentrate on our own building projects!
This was a serious snag. Without houses, our cherished scheme would not get off the ground. Roland Smith, the Director of Agriculture, had already been authorised to provide the necessary fruit trees and oil palm. However, like us, he was not authorised to hand over money to settlers to build houses.
After further discussions with Roland, we found a way out of the impasse. With the excellent growth in our nurseries following the flood, only 10% of the oil palm had to be culled, instead of the 40% we had allowed for. We therefore had a surplus of planting material towards the year-end. We sold the surplus palms at a very high price to the Agricultural Department, which then passed them on to the Cocos Islanders.
The money we received was then divided between the Cocos families, and all the houses were eventually completed. Needless to say, I did not feel it was necessary to inform London about this transaction. They had already told me they had doubts about my sanity. When Tun Mustapha (as he was by then) was Chief Minister, he visited Kampong Cocos. He was very interested in the project. He presented them with a community centre and a mosque. This was the final step in making it a viable kampong.
Historic events
In the Labuk, busy as we were throughout 1963, we were rather on the periphery of the momentous events leading up to the day when the state of Sabah became part of the Federation of Malaysia. However, all three of the future leaders of the state made electioneering visits to the Labuk region and we were kept in touch with the political developments.
Stephen Holley, who worked in senior government positions in North Borneo before and after Independence, in his interesting book A White Hunter in Borneo, made a perceptive comment: ‘Some have Independence thrust upon them. Sabah certainly falls into the last category. There was no local demand for it.’
This reminded me of my discussions with Lord Cobbold the previous year. The Cobbold Commission had been set up by the British government to ascertain the wishes of the peoples of North Borneo after Tunku Abdul Rahman’s “Mighty Malaysia” speech.
Lord Cobbold was my guest for a night during his visit to the Labuk. When he asked my opinion, I resolutely refused to comment. It was a matter for the local people rather than the expatriate community. However, he persisted and pressed me for my opinion off the record.
I told him that it was my firm opinion that Malaysia was the only possible route. Colonialism was clearly in its death throes and for me, that was a matter for rejoicing. The idea that Sabah should become independent on its own, as was being mooted in some circles particularly in Sandakan, was surely ludicrous. If Sabah did not join Malaysia, it would become part of Indonesia or of the Philippines within a year or two.
Although there was no local demand for Independence to start with, political awareness mushroomed with astonishing rapidity after the Cobbold Commission’s report. By August 1963, when a UN Delegation visited the state to ascertain the locals’ views, yet again there was overwhelming support for joining the Federation. A Sabahan’s account of this period – My Sabah, Reminiscences of a Former State Secretary – was written by Tan Sri Richard Lind.
Richard can be fairly described as one of the founding fathers of Greater Malaysia. In the colonial era, he worked as a District Officer, ending up as Resident in Sandakan, before moving on to higher things in Jesselton. During the turbulent political events which followed Independence, Richard played an immensely important role, working behind the scenes as State Secretary, quietly easing the tensions which often arose between the politicians.
Richard was responsible for the efficient hand-over of the senior positions in the state civil service from expatriates to Malaysians. He was himself absolutely straight and incorruptible, and he set a good example to his officials down the line.
Having spent his early boyhood on a rubber estate, Richard retained a close interest in plantation matters. During his tenure at the head of the civil service, the plantation industry received every help and encouragement. Years later when he retired, I was delighted to be able to persuade him to become an external director of our Malaysian business, where his knowledge of the country was a great asset.
In his foreword to Richard’s book, Dr Mahathir said: ‘Tan Sri Lind provides us with personal insights into so many important events … The book reflects the deeper thoughts of a man who subscribes to the ideals of Malaysia … His adherence to the power-sharing concept … demonstrates his concern for the well-being of his beloved State and country.’
On Aug 12, 1963, Sabah formally received Independence from the British Crown; just over a month later, on Sept 16, the proclamation of Sabah’s incorporation into the Federation of Malaysia was read out at a ceremony on the Jesselton Town Padang. Tun Mustapha was sworn in as Yang Di-Pertua Negeri (Head of State) and Donald Stephens as Chief Minister. There were big celebrations throughout the state. On Tungud, we took a day off work to organise a Sports Day. In the evening, we held a great feast accompanied by the first fireworks display in the history of the Labuk.
Having worked in the British colonies of Kenya, Malaya, Cameroons, Nigeria and North Borneo prior to their gaining Independence, I had many friends among the colonial officers who worked with integrity and dedication on the front line. However, I cannot count myself as an admirer of the colonial system itself. There are some who look back with nostalgia on the colonial days, particularly in some of the war-torn African states.
In the case of Sabah, however, its incorporation into the Federation of Malaysia was like a breath of fresh air. The achievements left behind by the colonial period in North Borneo are certainly nothing to boast about. Not even the most died-in-the-wool colonialist revisiting Malaysia can deny that the progress which has been achieved since Independence, in almost every area including health, education, communications, agricultural development and industrialisation, has been quite spectacular.
Datuk Leslie Davidson
Author, East of Kinabalu
Former Chairman, Unilever Plantations International
This is the second part of and edited chapter from the book published in 2007. It can be purchased from the Incorporated Society of Planters; email: isph@tm.net.my
