Empire of Crime

by Tim Newark

  One small area alone, paradoxically called by the name of a sweet smelling flower, produced five hundred and six cases [of VD] out of the thousand, while about three hundred and fiftytwo men associate their downfall to the cafes and cabarets. One cafe alone, which is still open, has produced seventyseven cases out of this number. Unlicensed houses are common, especially in the cabaret area, where some are even directly above the cafes themselves so that the ardent alcoholic has but a few steps to travel.

  These boarding houses were cheap to rent and the girls claimed they were merely entertaining their male friends with a few beers. It was all very casual, with the intention of avoiding any intervention by the police.

  ‘If one interrogates the men more closely as to how they contacted the women,’ noted the anonymous letter writer, ‘they will usually tell you that they picked her up in a cafe, rarely that they met her outside the cafe. Others say that they got her address from a boy friend; many, that while they were standing about a boy took them off to a house, and finally, some that they knew the house was a brothel by the cross on the wall, or that they were taken there by rickshaw pullers or taxi-drivers.’

  ‘In fact,’ concluded the exasperated report, ‘one quickly realises that one of Singapore’s foremost industries is prostitution and all that goes with it, and that at the moment this profession must be employing, either full or part time, many thousands of individuals.’

  This picture was drawn on the eve of the Japanese invasion of South-East Asia. What followed, as in China, was a sinister takeover by the Japanese military of many avenues of organised crime, including the sex business. Throughout their hastily erected empire, the Japanese forced thousands of young women to work in brothels to service their soldiers. Just one example of this occurred in Western Borneo in 1943.

  The Japanese naval garrison commander of Pontianak issued an order that no Japanese serviceman was to have casual relations with Indonesian or Chinese women. Instead, he decreed that official brothels be established. Women who were deemed to have already had sex with Japanese were forced into the barbed wire-surrounded accommodation and were only allowed back out on the streets with special permission. To keep the brothels full, the Naval Police – the Tokei Tai – were allowed to scour the streets and arrest any women they fancied, then have them forcibly examined and imprisoned in the brothels.

  The Japanese also established civilian brothels, the profits of which went directly into the pockets of the occupying administrators and their criminal colleagues. Women for these brothels were obtained by the Naval Police by dragging them off the streets. The degrading process that followed was described by a Dutch Intelligence officer after the war:

  In their search for women, the Tokei Tai ordered the entire [native] female staffs of Japanese firms to report to the Tokei Tai Office, undressed some of them entirely and accused them of maintaining relations with Japanese. The ensuing medical examination revealed that several were virgins. It is not known with certainty how many of these unfortunates were forced into brothels. Women did not dare to escape from the brothels as members of their family were then immediately arrested and severely maltreated by the Tokei Tai. In one case it is known that this caused the death of the mother of the girl concerned.

  This evidence was gathered from an Indonesian medical officer who was forced to examine the girls recruited by the Naval Police and was presented at war crimes trials.

  The Japanese had inflicted tremendous damage on the rulers of the British Empire in the Far East, not only in terms of physical damage and death to so many of their subjects but also in terms of prestige. Despite the great bravery and endurance of their armed forces – and their ultimate victory – the British had been humiliated in a string of defeats and they could no longer command the total respect of the native populations. Their military edge had been eroded and their rule savaged.

  As the post-war era began, it would demand a tremendous effort to keep a lid on the competing new powers. Certainly, there was a vigorous tide of Communism spreading throughout South-East Asia, but there was also a resurgence of organised crime that would sorely test the resolve of its colonial masters.

  10

  THE LUCKY MR LAI

  ON 29 MARCH 1946, SOME 1,500 Chinese inhabitants gathered at Sungai Ara on the island of Penang, north-west Malaya. Armed guards were placed on roads leading to the meeting. Their instructions were to keep the local Malays away: this was a Chinese-only gathering. When some of them were later questioned by the suspicious colonial police force, they all told the same story: they were ‘visiting relations’. When pressed further, they explained they had been ‘worshipping the gods’. This did not exactly explain the fresh pinpricks they all bore on the middle finger of their left hand.

  Only later was it finally revealed that these Chinese had all attended a mass initiation ceremony organised by the Ang Bin Hoey (ABH) and Sin Ghee Chin secret societies. When word of this got out, it sent a chill through the colonial police headquarters; these were Triad gangs and it was a massive show of strength.

  The dramatic initiation ritual had begun as the sun set. White cockerels were beheaded and their blood collected in a cistern. Each Chinese initiate was asked to remove his coat and sit on the ground, while members of the gang bound strips of white cloth around his head. He was ordered to crawl on hands and knees towards the ‘Five Gates’, each of which was guarded by two men with swords in their hands.

  At the first gate, a sword was placed on the nape of the novice’s neck. ‘Now you have come to take the oath to join the Ang Bin Hoey,’ proclaimed one of the formidable guards. ‘You must not talk of this when you return to town.’

  The initiate agreed and was ordered to crawl to the second gate. Here, he had to repeat an oath: ‘I have honoured my father and mother and must not sin.’ At the third gate, he was asked to repeat the promise. At the fourth gate, the middle finger of his left hand was pricked by the swordsman with a burnt needle and a drop of his blood squeezed into a chalice. Into this blood, he dipped his finger and licked it. The guard told him: ‘We are all brothers of the same blood. From now on you must behave in accordance with your conscience and never misbehave with your Elder Sister-in-Law.’ Presumably, this was not a specific instruction, but a general statement of brotherhood.

  Passing on to the fifth gate, through a red cloth curtain, the new gang member crawled to a spot at which he was given a date or banana to eat. From there, he shuffled towards a paper image of the Grave of the Elder Brother – to whom he had to pay homage. After that, he was given a hard-boiled egg to eat and asked to jump over a fire. He was then shown a headless rooster and told that a similar fate awaited him if he ever betrayed the secrets of the Ang Bin Hoey or violated its rules.

  After all the apprenctice gangsters had been initiated, they were told they would have to attend another gathering at which they would be confirmed and taught the secret signs and codes of the society. ‘Incredible, fantastic, and in parts childish as this ceremony may seem,’ said a British Intelligence report, ‘it varies but little from the wellattested rituals of other Chinese secret societies.’ It also echoed the symbolic initiation ceremonies of other organised crime clans, such as the Sicilian Mafia.

  Like the Mafia, the Ang Bin Hoey had their ‘soldiers’. These were called ‘Tiger-General’ or ‘51’. Each gang had at least five of these fighters or strong-arm men whose job it was to collect protection money or assault the victim if he didn’t pay up. Expert in martial arts, they settled disputes with other gangs by fighting and were the hit men for any assassinations. The lowest rank of membership was the ‘49’. He simply paid his subscription and joined in with bigger gang battles, hoping to catch the eye of his superiors. The use of numbers for ranks was a reference to the numerology of the classic Chinese text I Ching, which explained the world through calculations.

  The 51s were commanded by the ‘432’ or ‘Grass-Sandal’, who told them whom to attack and passed their protection money on to the
gang treasurer, known as ‘415’ or ‘White Fan’, who administered each gang. Along with 432, he would arbitrate in disputes between gangs before the fighting started. He, in turn, would pass on a cut of all monies received to the ‘426’ or ‘Red Rod’ – the district leader. He had the power to punish errant members with fines, beatings or death. He organised the mass initiation ceremonies and could call on reinforcements from other areas. Above all was the ‘Master of the Mountain’, also known as ‘Dragon Head’. He was the chief of the society and his word was law.

  The Sungai Ara Triad gathering coincided with a leap in crime throughout Penang in 1946. Armed robbery, murder and extortion were widespread and the Chinese population were too afraid to help the police. Even the Chancellor of the Chinese Consulate, who had originally declined an invitation to attend an Ang Bin Hoey ceremony, was forced to be present after being warned he would otherwise face undesirable consequences.

  The Triad gangs were hoping to raise their profile in Malaya in order to compete with the Malayan Communist Party (MCP). It was as much their aim to reassert their control over crime as it was to gain political influence. The communists had come out of the war in a weakened state, with little money in their party funds, thanks in part to the devious actions of double agents, and the Triads saw their opportunity to gain the upper hand in peacetime. During the war, the Ang Bin Hoey had fought alongside the communists against the Japanese but had then broken away from them. They didn’t like to be under their control.

  Triad roots stemmed back to the secret societies that had conspired to end the rule of the Qing in China and had collaborated with the Kuomintang nationalists. When they established themselves in Singapore and Malaya, aside from controlling every form of racketeering, they continued their anti-authority stance by opposing the colonial government. As a result, they were never recognised as a legitimate civil society by the British, who broke up their city meetings, forcing them to gather in the countryside.

  ‘Today [the Ang Bin Hoey] is openly fighting the MCP,’ noted a British Intelligence officer, ‘not necessarily for political reasons, although its sympathies, if any, are with the KMT.’ The Dragon Head of the ABH was keen to be officially recognised – so he could pursue their political agenda – and had renewed his society’s bid for registration with the government. But the British took their time with his application, well aware that the Ang Bin Hoey was, in reality, a criminal organisation:

  Its official objects are threefold; to ‘render mutual assistance to its members’; to foster friendly feelings amongst them; and to ‘exchange knowledge’ and ‘promote public welfare’. On the other hand its objects as exemplified by its activities appear to be ‘protection’ of certain hotels, prostitutes and merchants (either members, or persons paying for this protection), and murder and armed gang robbery directed against nonmembers and those who have presumably refused to pay for protection.

  It was true that the clash between the Ang Bin Hoey and the Malayan communists was nothing to do with differences over international politics but came down to gang law. A former Chinese member of a left-wing anti-Japanese guerrilla force had traded on the reputation of the Ang Bin Hoey by trying to extort money under the Triad name. Such false claims have always been looked down upon by organised criminals, as the fear they invoke is a major asset and must not be diluted by false claimants. If anyone does use their name, they should pay for it – as a criminal franchisee. This pretend communist gangster had failed to gain that permission and was subsequently set up by the ABH, which testified against him in court, seeing him sent down for five years.

  The left-wing guerrillas did not appreciate this punishment of their comrade and, in revenge, shot dead three members of the ABH. In a further incident, a firefight broke out and two of the guerrillas were shot, as well. As a direct result of this, the Penang MCP created its own secret organisation called the Black Face Society. Its principal aims were fighting the ABH and combating British imperialism. It was also an attempt to bring back party members who had deserted to the criminal gangs. Black Face members were trained in intelligence, propaganda and the handling of weapons.

  This explained the mass initiation ceremony on Penang – the Triad gangs were in a desperate arms race with the communists to get more ‘soldiers’ and outfight them. Having recruited several hundred members in Penang and the north of Malaya, the Triad gangs seemed to be winning the race and embarked on a crime wave that included piracy, as well as robbery, extortion and murder. In one instance, a prominent owner of several junks was murdered after it was believed he had squealed to the police about his ships being robbed by ABH gangsters.

  Local businessmen – called towkays – were a favourite target for kidnapping. In January 1947, one of these victims was released by police after a rubber plantation worker had led them to the house where gangsters were holding him. Later that month, the informer was awoken by someone trying to stab him. In the struggle, he managed to break away, running into the darkness, but when he turned round, he saw his house burst into flames. He ran to the nearest police station.

  The next morning, the informer and the police arrived at the smoking ruins of his house. Inside were the bodies of his wife, mother, father and two daughters. They had all been slaughtered by the ABH in reprisal for informing on them. But that wasn’t the end of it. On a nearby rubber estate, a woman and three children related to the informer were found suffering from cuts and burns. Three of them later died.

  Such inhumanity roused the local population and they helped the police and army scour the area for the gangsters involved. Eighteen members of the ABH were subsequently arrested and put under military guard.

  Undeterred, the ABH spread out from Penang to terrorise rubberplanting districts across the Malay Peninsula. As they raided villages and robbed Asian shopkeepers, there were fears that European rubber planters and their families were at risk, too. British estate agency firms claimed that rubber plantation workers would leave if the police couldn’t provide better protection for them. Malay businessmen got the feeling that the local police wanted to get tougher with the gangsters, but were being prevented by the colonial authorities.

  ‘Given a free hand,’ said the Malay Mail, published in Kuala Lumpur, ‘the police of Malaya would have dealt summarily with such persons under the banishment rules and returned them to the land of their birth.’ The Straits Times in Singapore accused Whitehall of handcuffing the local police force and demanded more ruthless use of exile against Chinese secret societies. The reluctance was due in part to a bigger political game being played out in post-war Malaya.

  The British imperial government was more concerned about the threat posed by communism to their rule. Out of a wish not to alienate the Chinese population in Malaya, it appears they did not seek harsher punishment for the influential secret societies. They certainly devoted much time to investigating their political affiliations, as one secret report revealed:

  In order to improve the standing and influence of the [ABH] Society, the original founders persuaded Chinese of the merchant class not only to join their Society but to hold high office on its committee. Some of these merchants were members too of the Kuomintang and may have been influenced in joining the Ang Bin Hoey by their antagonism to the Communists.

  Some intelligence agents referred to the ABH as the strong arm of the Kuomintang, but the author of one secret report warned against this assumption. The Triad network was far more profound in its history and hold on the Chinese population than the Kuomintang. The ABH was certainly not its creature; rather it chose to support whichever party served its own purposes first. When leading members of the ABH were arrested, British Intelligence officers took the opportunity to interrogate them about their wider concerns. One of these captured figures was referred to as the ‘Incense Master’ or ‘438’ – one of the most senior members of the ABH, concerned with its rituals.

  ‘There are Triad Societies in America, France and Australia,’ said the Incense Maste
r. ‘Why is it that only the British regard Triad Societies as illegal? Why all this fuss about an enquiry? The matter is simple. If Triad Societies are illegal, banish us to China straight away. If not, permit us to exist openly, and we will tell Government who the bad people in the country are.’

  It was an intriguing offer. The ABH might be a ferocious criminal organisation, but as political enemies of the communists they were hard to beat. When the Dragon Head of the ABH was brought in for questioning, he made a similar argument.

  ‘I tell you that if the Triad Brotherhood is not allowed to exist,’ he said, ‘all the Chinese shopkeepers will be forced to join the Kuomintang. If the Ang Brotherhood is not allowed to exist, why are the Communists? The Ang Brotherhood is far less dangerous than the Third International. In fact, its aims are good, and it will help Government. Not so the Communists.’

  These quotes were left hanging in the air in the secret report. The implication was clear. If the British imperial government so wished, the ABH would make devoted allies in their battle against communism. It was noted that in China in August 1946 – after the end of the war against Japan and with civil war breaking out between nationalists and communists – the Kuomintang in Shanghai had revived their branch of the Ang Brotherhood as a key instrument in their battle against the Left. Three months later, branches of the Kuomintang in Malaya received instructions from China to cultivate friendly relations with the ABH.

  When the Incense Master was invited to attend a meeting with the Chinese Nationalist Consul in Penang, he took the opportunity to complain to the Kuomintang diplomats about the British police action taken against the ABH.

  ‘The history of the Ang people is a glory to China,’ said one of the nationalist diplomats. ‘And if they do not break the law of the country, there is nothing to fear.’