Sir Stamford Raffles Was a Monster. So What?
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With a long list of crimes both petty and serious, it is no wonder that Ms Wright calls Raffles a ‘psycho boss’. However, if you look at the larger body of scholarship on Raffles, ‘psycho’ is a pretty mild term to describe a man guilty of hypocrisy, corruption, deception, kidnapping, and according to some, second-degree murder (I have no time to go into his Palembang affair, but you can read all about it here).
Which begs the question, how did we come to celebrate a lying pimp as our national hero? And what should we do if our country’sfounder is a monster?
The answer to the first question is relatively simple: Raffles married well. Following his premature death at the age of 44, his widow Sophia Raffles wrote a bestselling biography of her late husband. The book was a tissue of lies and bullshit, but it cemented Raffles’ reputation as a adventurous visionary.
At the same time, the British imperialist PR machine needed a hero and found a convenient candidate in Raffles. Thus, Lady Sophia’s falsehoods were repeated ad nauseam until everyone forgot the truth.
Our own government in Singapore probably carried on this charade because it saw little profit in rewriting history. After all, the PAP ruling establishment gained power through negotiation with the British, and knocking Raffles off his pedestal would serve no purpose except to undermine its own authority. Thus, Raffles was allowed to stand unchallenged.
So, as the bicentennial approaches, how should we deal with Raffles the Monster?
There is no easy answer to this question. I, for one, do not believe that we should follow the example of Zimbabwe or South Africa by tearing Raffles off his smug pedestal and throwing him into the river. However big a douchebag he was, amnesia is not the answer.
Destroying Raffles’ legacy entirely is like throwing the baby out with the bathwater. He might have been a asshole, but many of his principles remain sound. His belief in free trade is still integral to Singapore’s economy, even though legalising Opium has not improved as a policy idea after 200 years.
Instead, these recent revelations about Raffles are an opportunity for Singapore to reconsider its politics. So much of our history is afflicted with ‘Great Man Syndrome’. Our achievements are attributed not to the efforts of a united citizenry, but to singular brilliance of Great Men like Raffles, Lee Kuan Yew or even Lee Hsien Loong.
Everything good that happened to Singapore is credited to the heroes, and we choose to ignore our own part in nation-building. As a consequence, we overestimate their ability to shape the course of fate and underestimate our own agency.
The curious case of Raffles shows that no man is truly as capable as the history textbook claims. This ‘great’ founder was an arse who lived off the talents of his subordinates and contributed nothing except vague ideas and snarky correspondence.
Do with this information what you will. But if we’re going to celebrate him, let us at least recognize the truth: He was a two-faced, machiavellian hustler, not some enlightened saint who single-handedly turned Singapore into a success.
That success rightly belongs to Colonel Farquhar, the Bugis princes, Chinese planters and other ordinary Singaporeans who toiled to make the island into a nation.
www.ricemedia.co
With a long list of crimes both petty and serious, it is no wonder that Ms Wright calls Raffles a ‘psycho boss’. However, if you look at the larger body of scholarship on Raffles, ‘psycho’ is a pretty mild term to describe a man guilty of hypocrisy, corruption, deception, kidnapping, and according to some, second-degree murder (I have no time to go into his Palembang affair, but you can read all about it here).
Which begs the question, how did we come to celebrate a lying pimp as our national hero? And what should we do if our country’sfounder is a monster?
The answer to the first question is relatively simple: Raffles married well. Following his premature death at the age of 44, his widow Sophia Raffles wrote a bestselling biography of her late husband. The book was a tissue of lies and bullshit, but it cemented Raffles’ reputation as a adventurous visionary.
At the same time, the British imperialist PR machine needed a hero and found a convenient candidate in Raffles. Thus, Lady Sophia’s falsehoods were repeated ad nauseam until everyone forgot the truth.
Our own government in Singapore probably carried on this charade because it saw little profit in rewriting history. After all, the PAP ruling establishment gained power through negotiation with the British, and knocking Raffles off his pedestal would serve no purpose except to undermine its own authority. Thus, Raffles was allowed to stand unchallenged.
So, as the bicentennial approaches, how should we deal with Raffles the Monster?
There is no easy answer to this question. I, for one, do not believe that we should follow the example of Zimbabwe or South Africa by tearing Raffles off his smug pedestal and throwing him into the river. However big a douchebag he was, amnesia is not the answer.
Destroying Raffles’ legacy entirely is like throwing the baby out with the bathwater. He might have been a asshole, but many of his principles remain sound. His belief in free trade is still integral to Singapore’s economy, even though legalising Opium has not improved as a policy idea after 200 years.
Instead, these recent revelations about Raffles are an opportunity for Singapore to reconsider its politics. So much of our history is afflicted with ‘Great Man Syndrome’. Our achievements are attributed not to the efforts of a united citizenry, but to singular brilliance of Great Men like Raffles, Lee Kuan Yew or even Lee Hsien Loong.
Everything good that happened to Singapore is credited to the heroes, and we choose to ignore our own part in nation-building. As a consequence, we overestimate their ability to shape the course of fate and underestimate our own agency.
The curious case of Raffles shows that no man is truly as capable as the history textbook claims. This ‘great’ founder was an arse who lived off the talents of his subordinates and contributed nothing except vague ideas and snarky correspondence.
Do with this information what you will. But if we’re going to celebrate him, let us at least recognize the truth: He was a two-faced, machiavellian hustler, not some enlightened saint who single-handedly turned Singapore into a success.
That success rightly belongs to Colonel Farquhar, the Bugis princes, Chinese planters and other ordinary Singaporeans who toiled to make the island into a nation.
