Neil Humphreys - Why Our Great Leader was Not So Great and Not Much of a Leader

Raffles premature death in 1826, just a day before his 45th birthday, changed everything. He was no longer the absentee landlord taking credit for another mans loyal industry, nor the duplicitous brat sending out more angry letters than an overworked postman.

He was the rakish debonair chap in George Francis Josephs famous oil painting, the handsome face that launched a thousand Singaporean textbooks, the benign ruler of a distant land, gone too soon.

He was a handy martyr for the British Empire.

Being dead, Raffles was perfectly placed for a makeover. His widows biography, published in 1830, gave rise to the myth of a boy of limited means, rising through the corporate ranks before single-handedly turning a swamp into a lucrative jewel of the British Empire. Such rags to riches storylines were not only popular in 19th century England, they were perhaps necessary as industrial movements such as Chartism began to give a voice to the working classes at a time of massive income inequality.

The only slight drawback was much of it was the sanitised work of a grieving widow. The romanticised memoir wasnt so much Fifty Shades of Grey as it was one simple shade of Raffles. He was actually born into a naval family of reasonable wealth, enjoyed an education that was better than most and had decent financial support. Later on, he rewarded loyal family and friends with cushy land parcels in Java and Singapore.

But it was in the commercial interests of both Britain and Singapore to champion Raffles as the great white saviour coming to the rescue of vulnerable natives. He kept out the Dutch. He built a new town. He drained the swamp. Sound familiar? The privileged kid was reimagined as a humble hero for the underprivileged.

Raffles lighthouses, squares, schools, libraries and museums emphasised the British Empires paternal omnipresence after the First and Second World Wars. He represented prosperity and, more importantly, continuity, which was why Lee Kuan Yew kept Raffles statue after independence. The British Empire had gone, but British investment was still desperately coveted. Raffles was a convenient link between the past and the future and a reminder that Singapore remained a trading port, always open for business. Even now, hes still making money for Singapore. Hes still where he always wanted to be. Centre stage.

I acted as him in Talking Cock The Movie, for laughs admittedly, but my exaggerated, petty-minded and foppish caricature might have unintentionally been the most accurate representation to date. My Raffles was more concerned with public appearances and his reputation. At my side, Farquhar communicated with the locals, improved public relations and generally got the job done.

A daft, no-budget comedy inadvertently offered more insight into Raffles psyche and his relationship with Singaporeans than a number of archaic textbooks. (Theres also a wonderfully puerile gag about a mental institution being named after Raffles. Think about it.)

Raffles didnt make Singapore. Singapore made Raffles in a mutually beneficial relationship that kept the island alive and thriving once the imperialist died.

In a frantic game of Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Mo to find a suitable territory, Singapore was eventually chosen and Raffles pulled off his heist with all the subtlety of a Colombian cartel. He swapped opium for an island and fled the next day, leaving poor Farquhar to turn an improvised raid into a thriving entrept. And when Farquhars administrative success stole the limelight, Raffles pushed him off stage like a vindictive Miss World contestant at a beauty pageant.

And yet, it worked.

Farquhar the man oversaw Singapores construction, but Raffles the myth ensured its long-term survival. After 200 years, both men deserve a more accurate work appraisal.

Perhaps, in the end, its all in the name.

Raffles was blessed with a posh-sounding surname. It just sounds more refined, particularly in a Singlish accent. Revisionist history is always a sensitive subject, but not as sensitive as asking for a room at the Farquhar Hotel.

Endnotes

Hannigan, Tim. (2012) Raffles and the British Invasion of Java. Singapore: Monsoon Publishing, p. 294.

Ibid, p. 297.

Wright, Nadia. (2017) William Farquhar and Singapore: Stepping out from Raffles Shadow. Penang, Malaysia: Entrepot Publishing, p. 114; p. 155.