The Mystery and Mastery of Tan Yeok Nee (Part 10)

Final Years and Legacy

In the last post we considered the scope of Tan’s relationship with the Qing court in China. At its most basic, Tan’s relationship with the Qing court could have been based on some kind of recognition provided in return for Tan’s donation to help the starving victims of the North China Famine in the 1870s. However, there are tantalising snippets of information that suggest there may have been more to it. Chinese sources suggest that Tan was acting as Sultan Abu Bakar’s de facto ambassador to the Qing court. The idea warrants further investigation but additional facts remain elusive for now. Likewise, the details of the interplay going on in Tan’s mind concerning loyal service to the Sultan, the management of his own personal and business affairs, and the siren song that beckoned him to his home town may never be fully understood. 

This final post in the series about the life and times of Tan Yeok Nee, while also covering Tan’s final years, looks at some of these open questions: gaps in the record, areas that may warrant further investigation. For example, and to add further mystery into the mix, there is the possibility that Tan Yeok Nee had a role in the match between Sultan Abu Bakar and the lady who would become his fourth wife and eventually be recognised as Sultana Fatimah. It is a speculative contention that can be neither  completely dismissed nor ignored. Tan was, after all, the Sultan’s principal advisor, close friend and, like her, was also Chinese from Guangdong province. Some commentaries suggest that Fatimah and Abu Bakar first met during his famous East Asia Tour while making a visit to Hong Kong, where Tan was probably also present. These, and other questions, invite further inquiry to complete a full picture of Tan’s life and times.

Family

While little is known about Tan’s immediate family, his adoptive family is very well known. Abu Bakar had welcomed Tan into his family and singled him out for honorific recognition early on. In 1870, he was appointed "Major China of Johor". The position was apparently created especially for him since Johor at that time already had two “kapitans”, namely Kapitan Tan Cheng Hung in Tebrau and Kapitan Seah Tee Heng in Johor Bahru. These two important and powerful bosses, undisputed leaders within their own local Chinese communities, were no doubt somewhat surprised to learn one day that their new boss was another Chinese man and not the Sultan. In addition, Tan was also appointed as one of two Chinese members to the Council of State. However, for Tan the highest recognition came in 1894 when he became the first Chinese man to receive the title of Dato' S.P.M.J. ( Seri Paduka Mahkota Johor Yang Amat Mulia), an honour only recently created by Sultan Abu Bakar in 1886 and hitherto reserved for royal family members. The only known photograph of Tan shows him wearing the regalia of the Johor state on receiving the title of Dato’.

Tan Yeok Nee wearing his Johor regalia

In 1897, an article appeared in Singapore’s The Straits Times, which included the following paragraph:

From: Picturesque Singapore. The Straits Times. 1 October 1897. Page 3.

What is interesting about the article is that Tan should be mentioned at all. The article, “Picturesque Singapore”, was a “coloured supplement illustrating Singapore.” It provided numerous images with some commentary that described the “various flourishing businesses that are depicted.” The images were included in full page segments of the newspaper supplement setting out the highlights of Singapore. They are organized around the views that could be seen from certain well known vantage points around the city: from the heights of Fort Canning; overlooking the expanse The Esplanade; and a “birds eye view of New Harbour Docks” (now Keppel Harbour). 

That the pictorial supplement inexplicably carries the above photograph of Tan Yeok Nee and the captioned paragraph about the man begs the question, why? Both seem to be utterly incongruous with the theme of the newspaper’s pictorial supplement. Among many images of landscapes, cityscapes, and individual buildings displayed, only two individuals other than Tan are illustrated (one of them being Cheang Hong Lim who was, of course, Tan’s colleague heading up the Great Opium Syndicate in 1871). The only plausible explanation was that in the opinion of The Straits Times editors around the turn of the 20th century, Tan’s presence, status, and reputation in Singapore was considered to be at least as important as its highest profile landmarks and leading business enterprises. Like these Singapore buildings, locations, and success stories, Tan had become legendary.

Departure

As we know, Tan had always intended to leave the region and return to China. It was a long goodbye: for many years he had been traveling ever more regularly between Singapore and his Jinsha palace in southern China. As time progressed his mind would have gravitated northwards to China regardless of where he actually was. It just needed a catalyst to compel him to finally take the plunge and leave Singapore for good. Considering the monumental events in which he had played a critical role during his life the catalyst, when it came, was relatively trivial.

It has been suggested that Tan and his family finally left their Singapore home due to the noise and commotion as preparations began for the construction of Singapore’s central railway station nearby. It was Singapore’s first “city” station and was named, initially, simply “Singapore”. It was eventually opened in 1903, but was later, in 1907, replaced and renamed “Tank Station”. Tan, unhappy about the noise coming from the construction, assumed it was probably going to worsen once the railway station became operational. He decided to leave for good, which he did in 1902 at the age of 75. It is debatable what “leave” actually meant because the amount of time he was actually spending in Singapore by this time is uncertain. What is certain, however, is that after this date, he never again returned.

A 1924 map showing the proximity of Tan’s house and Tank Station in central Singapore.

His mansion was subsequently acquired by the Singapore Government Railway. The story goes that on Tan’s vacating of the premises, the station master became the next resident of the stupendous mansion. Whether a station master or any other company employee became the next lord of the manor, as indirectly suggested by some sources, or whether the railway company managed the property and used it for a variety of purposes, including housing some of its staff, is a matter for conjecture. That a government company employee, even a station master, lived as a private resident in one of Singapore’s most luxurious and notable mansions seems a bit far-fetched: but then again, stranger things have happened during the life and times of Tan Yeok Nee.

A Life

Tan Yeok Nee is a towering figure in the history of 19th-century Johor and Singapore. In this series we saw him start out as a youthful immigrant from China, enduring indentured labour in Pahang, but then becoming one of the most powerful men in Johor and Singapore. His chance first meeting with Abu Bakar showed that anything could happen in those early days, and that was precisely the appeal of the place to the many thousands who came. This was where the money was and Tan, backed to the hilt by his patron Abu Bakar, was fixated on collecting his share of it. Singapore and its rapidly growing Malay governed hinterland of Johor was open and welcoming to anyone with a hunger to succeed.

Tan and his patron Abu Bakar were the architects of Johor’s rise, underpinning its economic growth by creating a new agriculture based economy. In addition, they masterfully manipulated the various interests of those involved in the opium trade, playing them off against one another to Johor’s massive advantage. Tan had risen to be perhaps the most wealthy and influential figure within the Singapore and Johor business and political elites of the time. However, the surging social and economic forces inadvertently set off a vicious cycle of violence in which Chinese secret societies openly fought each other in the streets. Tan found himself at the centre of seemingly never ending cycles of carnage but also played a critical role in quelling the riots by helping to form, and then subsequently leading, the Great Opium Syndicate. Tan was at the peak of his career, but in 1875, Tan apparently vanished from the Johor scene without any kind of explanation as to why. 

What many historians and commentators appear to have missed in seeking to explain his sudden departure was that for years Tan had been hatching a plan for a path to semi-retirement. No stranger to the palaces and opulent mansions of his friends and acquaintances, he had built his own palace back in his homeland, in Chao’an, China. He would then go on to build another beautiful mansion in Singapore, a famous heritage building now known as The House of Tan Yeok Nee. While he settled into the life of a high profile public figure, continuing his association with the Johor royals, it appears that in his later life he also caught the attention the Qing court in Peking, receiving an honorific title from them and apparently enjoying their good graces in the dying days of their dynasty, ensuing that when he did, finally return home, that he did so with the blessings of the highest powers within the land of his birth.

Tan died from malaria on 21 May 1902 in Jinsha, passing away exactly where he had planned. He was thankful to his ancestors, no doubt, for their assistance in ensuring a desperate youth with few prospects ended up as the right hand man to a royal Sultan and, in doing so, becoming immensely wealthy. Despite the racking fever and pain of malaria the thought may have provided some consolation. In his calmer moments he may have reflected upon his long and eventful life, the stain on his conscience of the shame of his youth finally cleansed and finally peace of mind during those last moments of his life.

Businessman, Planter or "Godfather"

While reflecting upon Tan’s life and times, there are many unanswered questions, even mysteries. However, perhaps the most contentious when considering his retirement from a career as a businessman, planter and government official is one that has been largely ducked by many commentors: retirement from what exactly? 

As we have seen, individuals such as Tan who were headmen of the Kongsi in the region possessed considerable leverage amongst the overseas Chinese. However, their closed shop organisations, indentured labour, trade and supply of morally questionable goods and services, gangs of enforcers threatening violence, and many other unsavoury practices, raise some questions. By today’s standards of business and corporate governance, not to mention the law, such a setup would hardly be described as legal. But it was only after the 1880s that the secret societies became classed as “criminal” organizations. Prior to that, such was their importance to the functioning of the settlement, and the trade it depended on, that they were seen as a necessary component of a functioning economy. What was considered legitimate, or at least tolerable, when circumstances required it to be so would wobble in the face of today’s standards of scrutiny.

A “businessman” or "planter" may be a polite way to remember a man who made such massive contributions to the development of Johor and Singapore, not to mention the setting on a solid foundation a monarchy that thrives to this day. However, the organizations that Tan led, either as a figurehead or as a more hands-on manager, would hardly be considered legal according to the criteria we would use today to assess such things. The distinction between business tycoon or some kind of godfather presiding over a shady array of activities is pretty clear in the 21st century, and there are numerous examples of former corporate titans and financiers, not to mention politicians, who stepped over the line and who now sit behind bars as a result. But it is always tricky judging yesterday’s norms by standards agreed upon long after the fact. “But what about morality?” some might say and on one level they may have a point that what are considered as basic human morals tend to resist change over long periods. But the reality of history is that they do change, or at least people’s perception and understanding of them do, as do their circumstances. Upon that reality is also layered the notion of “better of two evils”, especially when a descent into a pit of chaos seems like a real possibility. 

A reasonable assessment of the situation in Johor and The Straits Settlements in the 1860s and 70s might have described amonopoly in drug and alcohol distribution (along with pawn broking, prostitution and other dodgy business), private gangs of enforcers, and legions of (often indentured) Chinese plantations workers – the majority of the population – who were spending up to 70% of their earnings on opium. Endorsed and supported by the government, tolerated, organized and exploited by virtually everyone else regardless of race or status, it appeared that everyone was in on it in one way or another. The better of two evils notion comes into play when this set up was deemed better than overseeing the failure of the Singapore settlement and the nascent state of Johor. This was evidently considered to be the only alternative if the revenues generated by the farms dried up. There may have been other options, but they didn’t appear to have been in the consideration set at that time. This was the situation and set up that Tan Yeok Nee retired from, if indeed that is what he did.

Legacy

However we might judge the legitimacy of the activities in which Tan was engaged against today’s standards, the legacy he leaves speaks volumes. Superficially, today we can look around and see streets named after him in Johor Bahru and buildings that bear his name in Singapore. Gretchen Liu comments that the two houses “represent to a large extent the personal ideals, hopes, and aspirations of their owner” and by extension those of his contemporaries. Moreover, Tan does seem to have donated generously to various philanthropic causes and continued to mingle and hold sway with the region’s powerful and influential Asian and European elite. More fundamentally, we see every day the successful economies of Johor and Singapore and the ever improving livelihoods of their inhabitants. Tan was of course not the only one to set the tone for the next 200 years, but he was one of the earliest and most successful and influential to do so. In straddling both Singapore and Johor, enjoying the patronage of the Sultan as well as the respect of Singapore’s leaders and administrators he was undoubtedly also unique.

Although he played a major and foundational role in creating this phenomenon, relatively little is known about him. Many questions remain: who was his wife; what happened to his children and grandchildren; can the details of his relationship with the Qing court be confirmed; what happened to his extensive businesses interests and properties in Singapore and Johor, among others. It is a story that begs to be continued.

Based on what we know of his career, and ultimately the results he delivered, Tan Yeok Nee was what today we might refer to in business parlance as an “A-Player”: talented, dedicated, hard-working, enthusiastic; someone who produces outsized results. His technical expertise was an acute sense of management and understanding of emerging business systems in the context of the environment in which he found himself. He knew more than most how to get things done. Abu Bakar was quick to recognise that quality and placed in him positions of influence and authority accordingly. Like Abu Bakar, he ignored what must have been thought of as the artificial boundary of the Johor Straits, and indeed the Singapore Straits dividing Singapore from Riau to the south. For both men the whole area remained a single domain, a single market. Tan’s mind was on achieving goals regardless of such impediments being thrown in his path: not just inconvenient administrative borders but any kind of obstacle, including sometimes wrestling with the dilemma of which of two evils was better, by necessity, to go with. He was a problem solver. In this sense he might be considered a forerunner of the kind of management we see in the Singapore administration of the last several decades. A no nonsense approach of doing what needs to be done. Thus, he may be considered a harbinger of what has led to one of the world’s greatest, truly global cities.

While it may be overly simplistic to call him a businessman, and perhaps unfair to dismiss him as little more than a part time underworld kingpin, he was certainly a man of his times and a tremendously successful and influential one at that. His Singapore mansion stands as a bold monument in the centre of the city, a reminder of what had to be done to get Singapore and Johor up and running. His Chao’an palace is little known outside of its immediate vicinity, but speaks to the locals of the opportunity and sacrifice, and in this case wealth and connections to royalty, for some of those many thousands who took the enormous risk to leave China during troubled times to seek their fortune elsewhere. But Tan is more than a reminder of the pioneers who created the economic miracle of Singapore and its hinterland, especially Johor. Tan's resting place was southern China; his personal ties were deeply embedded in the Malay world; his business interests and official duties spanned the southern tip of the Malay peninsula and beyond, as if territorial boundaries were non-existent. Despite modern borders, Singapore and Johor (and Riau) have never stood alone and have always connected to the wider world. Tan's life stands as a reminder of this reality and the deep historical context of the region. As one of the important characters in the early chapters of the book, it is the world in which Palace of Ghosts is set that he connects us to.