BIPARTISAN politics has always been uncommon in this country ever since Independence was achieved in 1957. But that was until May 10, 2018 when Malaysians woke up to wide ranging changes in the local political landscape as a result of the 14th General Elections.
Apart from seasoned politicians who always had the uncanny ability of adapting to practically any situation with surprising ease, the sudden reversal of roles caught many others flatfooted. Those who were previously the opposition suddenly found themselves part of the ruling government while those who were so used to wielding almost unbridled power reluctantly accepted that they were no longer the country’s decision makers.
At the same time, the formation of the new Pakatan Harapan government, free from the encumbrances of the former regime, heralded a fresh start for the nation. For once in a very long time, the rule of law and accountability to the people started to take precedent above all else.
A recently-published letter in the New Straits Times written by a group of politicians from both sides of the political divide was definitely a breath of fresh air. In it, Tengku Razaleigh Hamzah (Gua Musang MP), Maria Chin Abdullah (Petaling Jaya MP), Chua Tian Chang, Tan Sri Ramon Navaratnam, Hamidon Taib, Prof Datuk Dr Adeeba Kamarulzaman, Datuk Noor Farida Ariffin, Police Commissioner (Rtd) Datuk Shabudin Abdul Wahab, Datin Seri Sunita Rajakumar and KK Tan joined forces to raise awareness about funding deficiencies as well as future plans for two government-owned double-storey colonial mansions, the Carcosa and the Seri Negara.
STORY UNFOLDS
Interested to learn more about both these national jewels known collectively as Carcosa Seri Negara, I start scouring for related reference books and historical journals in my study. After some time, my efforts start to pay off and I begin my journey to unravel the intriguing story behind the need to build Carcosa, its occupants over the years, Tunku's decision to give it away and its eventual return to the people of Malaysia.
My story starts with the understanding that colonial governors of the past were not men of the British aristocratic hereditary ruling families, nor did they inherit or acquire great wealth. Collectively, they were drawn primarily from Victorian and Edwardian professional class, whose sons went into the armed services, the church, the law or went off to make a career for themselves overseas as administrators, agriculturists or businessmen.
This was true for all governors who had taken up office in Malaya as well as the Straits Settlements. Sir Frank Swettenham was the son of a county solicitor while Sir Hugh Clifford's father was a regular army officer. Sir Orfeur Cavenagh, Sir Henry Ord, Sir Andrew Clarke and Sir William Jervois became governors of the Straits Settlements after rising to senior rank in the army. Sir William Robinson, son of an admiral and Sir Cecil Clementi, son of a clergyman, began life in Malaya as colonial administrators.
As the local representative of the British Crown and supreme executive authority in a British dependency, the governor stood at the apex of a small part of the world and enjoyed glory during his brief tenure. As time passed, he might move on to another colony but at the end of the day, he eventually returned to the country of his origin with a knighthood and a moderate pension which he’d use to sustain his dignity during retirement.
NEED FOR A PROPER HOME
While it lasted, one of the main gratifications of governorship was the occupation of a large mansion on the hill from which the tenant could survey the capital of the territory under his jurisdiction. The position of governor in Malaya was unusual because his official residence was in Singapore and while touring the Malay States, where he assumed the title of High Commissioner, he was a mere visitor who didn’t have a local official address and often stayed as a guest of the most senior local administrator who was the Resident or Advisor.
Such an arrangement was subsequently deemed unsuitable and plans were soon put in place to build a proper home that befitted the standing of the highest ranking British official in Malaya.
Focusing my attention to several articles written by John Michael Gullick, a British orientalist who wrote extensively on pre-colonial and early colonial Malay society, I realise that the history of the Carcosa can be traced back to the time when Kuala Lumpur became the administrative capital of Selangor in 1880 and the Resident's official home was the Klang Residency. The situation changed in 1896 when the new created post of Resident-General of the Federated Malay States (FMS) called for a larger official residence.
Gullick wrote that it was eventually decided that the Resident-General's new house would stand on a ridge less than a kilometre out of the Federal capital and overlook a panorama that begins from the well-ordered roads and the Lake Gardens just below and extended to the ragged outline of the main range. Some 24-acres of sloping land were excised to form the private grounds of the new official mansion. Four acres were earmarked for development as gardens while the remainder became “…open park land where sambar deer could be seen amidst the bushes.”
Designed by Arthur Benison Hubback, under instruction from the State Engineer of Selangor Public Work Department Charles Edwin Spooner, the plans provided for a ground floor that could accommodate major social gatherings and an upper floor with private sitting room, study and seven main bedrooms, each with its own stretch of veranda. The outbuildings included stables and several tennis courts. The estimated cost of the palatial building, built in the eclectic fusion of Neo-Gothic and Tudor Revival styles, was about 25,000 pounds.
The Public Works Department (PWD) was fully extended at that time with a large ongoing portfolio of government offices in rapidly growing Kuala Lumpur. As such, Swettenham, the first holder of the Resident-General post in the FMS, passed the contract to a private firm, Nicholas and Walsh.
WHY CARCOSA?
Swettenham moved in during construction and perplexed everyone when he christened the building Carcosa, a mysterious word and name not found in any anthology or dictionary. While many theories were advanced long after Swettenham's departure, sadly none could satisfactorily explain the origin of the name.
In desperation, an appeal went out to Swettenham who was at that time living in vigorous retirement in England. In his reply, Swettenham publicly confirmed his ambitions to secure recognition as a literary man and had made a poetic allusion when it came to Carcosa. He also admitted contributing to fashionable journals associated with Oscar Wilde and Aubrey Beardsley back in the 1890s.
Swettenham saw himself as an Englishman with an Englishman's inherent desire to give his 'castle' a name. He found the unusual name in one of the verses of a book about a fictitious 'King In Yellow' whose castle was referred to as 'Lost Carcosa'. Swettenham concluded that the word was probably created by the author's figment of imagination even though it looked like a combination of the Italian words cara and casa which meant 'desirable dwellings'.
Always the tactful politician, Swettenham also said he didn’t call the Resident-General's dwelling 'Government House' as it didn’t seem an appropriate name in the protected Malay States. He didn’t give it a Malay name as it was to be the residence of a British officer.
COLOURFUL PAST
An official housewarming party complete with a lavish fancy dress ball was held to celebrate the opening of the new mansion on Aug 28, 1898. Swettenham was, at that time, in the full flood tide of his career and soon moved on to the governorship in Singapore. The other senior officials who took over the reins of the FMS government as Chief Secretary, when the Resident-General post was absolved in 1911, didn’t change the name. So, Carcosa it remained.
Curiously, the originating verse from the book became a prophetic one in 1936 when a constitutional change reduced the standing of the Chief Secretary to that of a Federal Secretary. Instead of being first after the High Commissioner in order of precedence, he fell behind the four British Residents.
With a reduced salary, the Federal Secretary lost Carcosa and moved into the old Residency. The name died when it became home to the British Resident who called it, quite unenterprisingly, Selangor Residency.
Thus, Carcosa lapsed into memory, but with its head unbowed, for some of the greatest names in Malayan history had been among its occupants. Among them were Sir William Taylor and Sir George Maxwell. The former was irreverently known as ikan kering as he kept a tight grip on the country's budget and wouldn’t sanction expenditure that didn’t promise a good return.
Through the years of the Japanese Occupation and the months of the British Military Administration, the floors of the Carcosa rang to the boots of senior officers. When the civil government resumed on Apr 1, 1946, Carcosa rose like a phoenix from the ashes. It was once more home to the Chief Secretary and a new individual named British Adviser returned to the Residency.
POST-WAR REVIVAL
Carcosa came into its own again when its first post-war occupant, Sir Alec Newboult moved in. Its occupants since then have been Sir Moroboe del Tufo, Sir Donald MacGillivray and finally Sir David Watherston. He closed the chapter of Carcosa's pre-Merdeka history by acting as host to the Duke of Gloucester, who came as the representative of Queen Elizabeth II to present the constitutional instruments of freedom to Tunku Abdul Rahman, Prime Minister of Malaya.
As a salute to great friendship and aid given to quell the communist terrorist uprising, Tunku presented Carcosa to Britain for use as home of its High Commissioner. In a chapter of his book Challenging Times published in 1985, Tunku expressed dismay that young political members within his own party had voiced disagreement about his September 1956 decision.
Drawing example from the great number of Indonesian lives lost in their struggle for independence from their Dutch masters, Tunku said that Malayans should be grateful that not a single drop of blood was lost on our way to Merdeka. He ticked off those who were against the British by saying that throughout our long history we had been ruled by various foreign powers and singling one out for condemnation wasn’t right. The situation embarrassed both Tunku and the British government to the extent that the latter signalled its willingness to give Carcosa back when the request was official.
Carcosa eventually returned to Malaysia in 1987. Together with the adjacent building, which was the former King's House, Carcosa Seri Negara was extensively refurbished and leased to a succession of hospitality companies until the end of 2015. The mansions' colonial architecture and interior designs complemented the colonial-themed hotel service perfectly. In its inaugural year as a hotel, Carcosa Seri Negara served as the temporary official residence for Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip during the 1989 Kuala Lumpur Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting.
Putting back the reference material to their rightful place, I’m once again reminded by the letter that first sparked my interest in Carcosa Seri Negara. The positive indication of political resolve will surely go a long way to finally restore these historic buildings back to their former glory. Once achieved, Carcosa will then be lost no more.