THAT function last Tuesday at Pustaka Negeri, an imposing building with the blue roof by the man-made lake at Petra Jaya, brought back many memories for me of the early years of Malaysia. Those were happy as well as not so happy days.
TUN JUGAH BARIENG
At the outset, let me just mention four tragic events – the Indonesian Confrontation, the Communist insurrection, the separation of Singapore in 1965, and the debacle of May 13, 1969. Should we forget about them? No, we should not.
As Steven Runciman, in his book ‘The White Rajahs’, says: “History cannot explain the future for us, but it can help to explain the present.” If the majority of Sarawakians have been contented and secure in Malaysia for a good part of the last 40 years, should we not be objective when assessing the roles of early Malaysians from Sarawak? Name them — Temenggong Jugah, Datu Bandar Haji Mustapha, Temenggong Lawai Jau, James Wong Kim Min, Yeo Cheng Ho, Ling Beng Siew, Ong Kee Hui, Stephen Yong, Tra Zehnder, Racha Umong, Remigius Durin, Temenggong Salau, Pengarah Rahun, Pengarah Montegrai, not forgetting Tun Abdul Rahman Yakub and the other Governors Tun Openg, Tun Haji Bujang and Tun Ahmad Zaidi. No space here for the names of several more. All these leaders had wanted a better future for the state and a better deal for Sarawakians.
If we are short-changed somewhat now, do not blame them entirely. Perhaps, our expectations of them were too high. Even Jugah himself has been quoted to have said that Malaysia must not be like a sugar cane – sweet at the bottom and not so sweet up its stem (“Anang baka tebu, manis aba pun, tabar aba ujong”).
It’s up to the present generation of Malaysians to measure the sugar content of Malaysia. Look after the sugar cane well rather than extract the juice for only a few. To borrow President Kennedy’s famous statement, “Ask not what the country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.”
The Rt Honourable the Chief Minister, Pehin Sri Abdul Taib Mahmud, who was Tun Jugah’s neighbour has considered Jugah a hero. That’s quite an apt epitaph. Many people might not have heard of the Native Concession Fund until the Chief Minister revealed its existence. Apai and Temengong Lawai Jau were instrumental in creating what they called Timber Cess Fund – money earned from the extraction of timber from rural areas to be ploughed back immediately to the local economy (potong meja). Could it be the same thing?
When I told him what the Financial Secretary T’en Kuen Foh had told me — that the money had been absorbed into the Consolidated Fund — Jugah was not happy. That’s why I was pleasantly surprised when the Chief Minister disclosed the existence of the Fund, flush with a lot of money for educational purposes. Could this be the same Timber Cess Fund as Apai and Temenggong Lawai Jau knew it? Apai and the Temenggong would have smiled if they were around on Tuesday to hear about the money from the Chief Minister.
The National Archive is to be commended for organising exhibitions depicting the lives and contributions of early Malaysians from time to time including those in Sarawak. What about contributions by the Datu Bandar Haji Mustapha next?
There is a reservoir of historical information to extract from exhibitions like that put up at the Pustaka Negeri. For instance, how many people know that the famous nationalist Ahmad Boestamam was seen among the leaders of the Sarawak Alliance in the early 1960s? Look at the photograph closely and you might be able to spot him in the same front row with the Tunku. Mat Sabu would be happy to see this.
During a dialogue session, the audience, among whom were many young people, from all walks of life sought to find out more about the formation of Malaysia and about Jugah’s role in it. Tan Sri Linggi and Datuk Dago were on the panel. To have heard about his father’s role and reasons and rationale why Sarawak had to merge with Malaya, Singapore and North Borneo, Brunei having opted out, was a rare opportunity indeed. To have heard from the evergreen Datuk Dago, a fellow MP would have been an excellent chance of learning first-hand about Jugah’s long list of honorific decorations fully recorded in the good Datuk’s diary.
People like Alfred Mason, if he was still alive, could have told the audience more about Apai’s role in the formation of Malaysia. I came into the picture later and played a small part of a tiny cog in the huge wheel in the scheme of things.
Nevertheless, I volunteered an insight into Jugah’s character as I knew him and this I revealed at the dialogue. One important lesson not easily learned by young civil servants, me included, until late in life is his sound advice: “Anang berutang lalu enda mayar” (do not get into debt and not paying). He never read Keynes or Samuelson or Daly’s ‘Economics of Money’. He lectured his staff and bodyguards to spend within one’s means. And he led by example. His cook Lau was given not more than RM4 per day for vegetables and some meat (ample rice imported from Kapit).
He shared his belief with me: “When you are in danger during a journey such as shooting down the Pelagus Rapids or experiencing rough weather during a flight on a plane, close one eye. With the other eye try to see the tip of your nose. If the nose is still there, nothing untoward will happen.”
However, I suggest you do it discreetly if you are sitting next to a young lady next time you encounter bad weather. She may think that this old man is taking advantage of the situation. Do not do it to the stewardess; she may give you a dirty look.
Where did he get the energy from?
When we visited a longhouse, and we often did regularly, he would give a brief speech, always relevant to the subject at hand, humorous and witty. He would sit from 8pm till 3am or 4am the next day, listening to grouses and giving advice and suggesting solutions to problems brought up by the people. He kept repeating the importance of planting rubber, rice and sending children to school. And he expected his entourage to sit it out with him into the ungodly hours. Little did he realise that young men in his group had other ideas: to talk to the girls or to ngajat or go for the tuak. Alfred Mason and I were under strict orders not to move away or sleep without his permission.
After a while and many more visits to the longhouses in almost all districts in Sarawak for two years, one got the message: he wanted townies like us to be as tough as he, product of a longhouse. One got used to his style of dealing with his people and learnt a few useful tips in public speaking and personal relations: in public speaking, don’t ramble; in personal relationships, be sincere and honest.
As the Federal Minister for Sarawak Affairs, Temenggong Jugah Anak Barieng, spent a large part of his time between KL for the parliamentary sessions and Kuching or Kapit and in visiting other districts. He had not the privilege of flying in a helicopter during visits to the interior of Sarawak; his luxury was the boats and the Walkswagen for hours in the hot sun or the rain. While in Kapit, he must visit his bungalow at Nanga Gat, to see his cattle.
During parliamentary sessions, he would see the Tunku for a chat and the PM once popped in unannounced to see Apai up in parliament office and together they listened to debates in the House piped in through the ‘ceiling’. That was when one of the Seenivasagam brothers from the PPP was holding fort.
It was the time when Malaysia was a fragile nation facing security threats and the time to make Malaysia work, especially after the parting of ways with Singapore.
Now 48 years after Malaysia, the agenda for development of his people continues. Apai would probably have made some remarks if told about lack of top jobs in the civil service and the Army for the Iban.
Great people were these people in the 1960s and 1970s, Tun Jugah among them. He deserves the many accolades. Find another Jugah, if you can.
Judge him fairly
To understand the man fully, look at his role in the formation of Malaysia from books and other literature against the scenario of the early 60s; look also at his life as an Iban leader from Meritrai from oral information from his contemporaries and judge him fairly. I may be biased because I had worked for and with him and shared a lot of his rice. To me he was a true blue Malaysian leader whose traits are not easy to emulate or whose shoes are too big for any of his people to fit for some time to come. Indeed, Runciman’s ‘History’ can explain the present as far as Jugah’s contribution to Malaysia is concerned. But it cannot help to explain the future for us.