The Mystery and Mastery of Tan Yeok Nee (Part 5)
Out of Chaos Comes Order
In the previous post we saw the rise of Tan Yeok Nee coinciding with unprecedented population and economic growth in Johor under the helmsmanship of Temenggong, later Maharaja, Abu Bakar. As trusted partners, Tan and his patron the Maharaja were the architects of Johor’s rise. They masterfully manipulated the various interests of those involved in the opium trade, playing them off against one another to Johor’s massive advantage. However, the outcome inadvertently set off a vicious cycle of violence in which Chinese secret societies, with their kongsi fronts, fought each other in the streets of Singapore. After years of unrest all of the stakeholders were looking for a solution to the seemingly never ending cycles of carnage.
The Descent into Mayhem
Although Tan’s star was burning brightly, all around him the fragile social order was starting to fracture. The tentacles of the clan based kongsi touched nearly all aspects of urban life among the region’s Chinese communities. It was hardly surprising that rioting broke out. Tensions boiled over when farming rights swapped hands, smuggling went viral, and clandestine groups – aka the secret societies and their henchmen – started to flex their muscles. There were scores to be settled. Although concrete evidence is elusive most historians today think that the kongsi and the secret societies were often, at least at the time, one in the same thing. During the 1860s central Singapore saw open street fighting between armed forces of men loyal to their particular organization. All indications were that this violent turn of events had its roots in the linkages between the tendering of rights to the revenue farms, the kongsi that bid for them with their secret society structures lurking behind the scenes. The smugglers were more often than not disgruntled individuals or groups who had been left out of the official revenue farm arrangements, but at times it was a free for all as many others piled in to try and make a quick profit.
As if this was not enough to stir the caldron, unchecked coolie immigration and hopelessly over stretched policing compounded the situation in the precarious and rapidly evolving urban environment. As new arrivals poured in and as living conditions deterioted it is understandable that some officials pointed to overcrowding and lack of sanitation as the main cause of tensions. It was a tinderbox waiting for a spark. Inexplicably, at the time there was no attempt in official commentary to link the outbursts of fighting to the secret societies' involvement in the revenue farm arrangements. But the timing of the break down of the structures that managed the opium farms, the rise in smuggling and subsequent violence is too obvious to dismiss. That these were linked is a far more plausible explanation than that the unrest just spontaneously happened and that the timing was nothing more than a coincidence. Trocki draws attention to more explicit evidence, quoting the author Mr J.D. Vaughan of the 1879 book The Manners and Customs of the Chinese in the Straits Settlements: “….in consequence of Hokkien and Teo Chew gentleman being interested in the Opium Farm. If the farm was sold to one race only, the other would do their utmost to smuggle contraband chandu into the place and ruin their rivals”
Trocki goes on to describe what happened in 1861:
“At the end of March 1861, as negotiations were proceeding for the letting of the farms, a fresh outbreak of “secret society” violence occurred. The term “secret” is used advisedly here, because some of the groups involved here were not usually counted amongst the true triad societies; rather they were surname or clan groups, which were called “seh” or “seah” (Mandarin “hsing”). A riot or series of riots began on 31 March, reportedly between the Seh Tan (or the tan clan group) and the Ghi Hock [a secret society]. Another fight was reported on 18 April; this time, Lee Ah Kwang, the head of the Ghi Hin [another secret society] and Choa Moh Choon (alias Choa Sian), the head of the Ghi Hock, were arrested. … A further bout of violence occurred on 18 May.”
W.H.M. Read provides a broader perspective spanning two troubled decades. He included a whole chapter on secret societies in his 1901 book Play and Politics, citing sobering details from his time spent as a police constable at the height of the riots:
“One [riot], in 1854, lasted ten days, and cost the lives of six hundred people and the destruction of much property. Another, in 1863, lasted eight days, but nobody was killed. In 1872, one lasted five days, and no (sic) killed; and in 1876 another, which lasted also five days, with the result that eleven Chinese were shot.”
Tan may well have been on the ascent but it was a very dangerous and tense set of circumstances over which he presided. Urban gang warfare raged: there were intense and vicious skirmishes fueled by grudges and suspicions. The intrigue, scale, and intensity was akin to that portrayed in popular media of the infamous New York mafia wars in the 1920s.
As Johor resisted re-joining the syndicate, Tan, as head of Johor’s Ngee Heng Kongsi, emerged as the exclusive Johor revenue farmer for both the spirit and opium farms in September 1863. He was the obvious choice for the role. He had deep connections into the Chinese communities and secret societies and he was the Temenggong’s most trusted adviser and oldest friend. He had already been deeply involved in the Temenggong’s dealings with Singapore on opium concessions and therefore the revenue farms too. From the Temenggong’s perspective, since the opium and spirit farms were his principal sources of revenue, effective partnership with the farmer was critical and Tan was the best qualified for the job. The Temenggong evidently felt compelled to throw his weight behind a single trusted partner and stamp out any other form of competition in order to ensure stability in his and Johor’s finances. In doing so, Abu Bakar solidified and strengthened his leverage against the Singapore opium and spirit revenue farmers.
By stepping out of the shadows and into the limelight in 1863 as Johor’s opium revenue farmer, Tan became a significant and visible player in the midst of the cacophony resulting from the drug and alcohol turf war enveloping the immediate region. Serious incidents of unrest continued unabated: newspapers claimed they were a daily occurrence. To compound matters further amid the breakdown of order, the Singapore economy slipped into recession in 1863-4. Businesses failed and there were runs on banks. Being fully integrated with the economy of Singapore, Johor had no way to escape the impact. Tan remained Abu Bakar’s main economics and business advisor and will have therefore assessed the deteriorating situation and instability with increasing alarm. Whether Abu Bakar and Tan expected, or were prepared for such brinkmanship and risk is unknown. It is hard to believe they would have embarked on such a high stakes gamble if they had fully understood of the range of possible ramifications, including the widespread chaos they were now struggling with. But then Abu Bakar and Tan were two powerful personalities. They were not for the faint hearted and perhaps maintained a bullish confidence that someone would back down, whatever price was being paid by the people of Johor and Singapore.
The Birth of the Great Opium Syndicate
One of the great geopolitical changes that was to take place during Tan’s mid-career ascent, one with profound implications for both himself and for society in the region generally, was when oversight of The Straits Settlements was transferred from India to the Colonial Office in London in 1867. Global telegraphic communications and shiny new steamships added to the feeling that major change was afoot. New faces began to appear on the scene. The most important was when Harry St George Ord replaced Governor Cavenagh as Governor of The Straits Settlements in March 1867. Calls for a resolution to the violence became louder and various parties began to seek some sort of settlement. Temenggong Abu Bakar was eager to improve relations, especially since Tan’s concern about the economy proved to be prescient as investment in Johor had dried up in the years 1864 and 1866. The Temenggong’s suggestion to resume the former system whereby the farms for Johor and Singapore were to return to being let together to the same farmer was well received. Negotiations began but considerable uncertainty remained as seemingly endless debates ensued around the intricacies of who was getting what from whom, for how much, and for how long. As a major stakeholder himself, and as representative of Abu Bakar, who had assumed the title of Maharaja in 1868, a leadership position for Tan in any new syndicate arrangements was all but guaranteed.
Finally, in November 1870, an announcement was made that a Great Opium Syndicate would be formed. Excitement spread among the people of Singapore and Johor that it would end the smuggling and therefore, hopefully, the violence. To varying extents, all sides involved swallowed their pride, putting aside their financial claims and counter-claims in order to arrive at an agreement. The Great Opium Syndicate (which included both spirit and opium farms) was to be headed by Tan Yeok Nee, Cheang Hong Lim (the former Singapore spirit farmer), and Tang Seng Poh (the former Singapore opium farmer), and included the territories of Singapore, Johor, Melaka, and Riau. With the new title of Maharaja under his belt, a no doubt satisfactory price for the inclusion of Johor in the arrangements and with Tan in a position of control, Maharaja Abu Bakar of Johor must have been quite pleased with the overall outcome. He and Tan had succeeded in securing Johor’s economy and its governments revenues, at least for the time being. Tan, loyal and trustworthy as ever, found himself in a position of immense power and influence.
The other syndicate leaders making up the triumvirate, Cheang Hong Lim and Tang Seng Poh, were also kingpins in their own right. Both sat at the top of a pyramid of sprawling and complex alliances and loyalties. Even though they were dependent on, and had a symbiotic relationship with the British authorities, such loyalties lay principally with their Singapore Kongsi with their secret society structures. Tan was somewhat of an anomaly in this respect. The Ngee Heng Kongsi he controlled must have retained structures that reflected its secret society origin and character. However, unlike his fellow Chinese across the Johor Straits, his loyalties lay mainly with his childhood friend, patron, and protector the Maharaja of Johor. Nevertheless, overnight, and regardless of the map of loyalties, deference, and influence, the Great Opium Syndicate became all powerful, crushing all other aspirants for the business and promoting its chief officers to virtually unassailable status.
Despite the all-powerful presence of new Great Opium Syndicate, scattered cases of smuggling, rioting, and violence continued, but gradually the situation calmed down, at least for a decade or so and at least as it was directly concerned with the opium trade. One unfortunate by-product of the new arrangements was that a considerable number of the private “security” personnel were now without work. These thugs were left to squabble over control of the other available vices and with predictable results: gambling, prostitution, and pawn broking. One riot from around this time was directly attributed to an argument between rival Chinese clan groups over who had control over a group of the most pretty ladies working in Singapore’s Hong Kong Street (a Chinatown street where I also worked for a couple of years, but in an office 150 years later!). This was on the periphery, however, and the gangsterism associated with control of opium and alcohol distribution which had characterized the previous years appeared to be under control. Tan, along with his two colleagues, sat in the centre of this organization as the top-dog headman, the godfather if you will. With the exception of the Maharaja of Johor, his individual power and wealth at this time was unsurpassed in the region.
Tan was at the top of his game. Even before taking up his leadership position in the Great Opium Syndicate, he was in direct control of Johor’s gambier and pepper plantations and their farming rights. He was head of the powerful Ngee Heng Kongsi with its secret society roots. He also owned the Kwang Hong trading company in Singapore with several shophouses (i.e. warehouses) operating on Boat Quay, Singapore. The same year as the creation of the Great Opium Syndicate saw him appointed as Major China of Johor, the highest ranking Chinese official in the Maharaja’s government. He was already by far the wealthiest and most powerful Chinese man in Johor and, judging by the gifts he made of shares in the kongsi he controlled to various royal family friends, his wealth probably surpassed many of those royal family members too. In 1874, Tan was appointed as one of the only two Chinese members in Johor’s State Council. He was also thought to be particularly close to the Maharaja’s brother Ungku Abdul Rahman. He was considered to be part of the family. There were few others in Johor or Singapore that could boast a resumé like Tan Yeok Nee.
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