Sir, some people in this House have no sense of humour, and for these people I have the deepest sympathy. But for the Member for Katong, I hope he will bear this in mind - that the local chest specialists think it outrageous that they should wait ten years before they push the white men out. Further, that the local pharmacists think it equally outrageous that they should have to wait six years before they take over from the white men. So if the Minister for Health should have any chest complaint, no doubt he will choose his doctors carefully. On the whole, we support the detailed proposals in this White Paper. We support it notwithstanding the fact that we know that many of the junior administrative officers are dissatisfied because of a statement of policy that there will be a five-year time lag before their avenues for rapid fortuitous promotion will be open. We say to them that we want them to prove their mettle in these five years, and to show us that they can compete with the white men who will stay behind, not as policy-makers but as functionaries. If they cannot compete with the white men, then they deserve not to be promoted. Sir, the Malayan Civil Service was a mandarinate. The legend "M.C.S." after a white man's name on some wooden swing-door was some kind of hallmark, symbol of personal power and influence - as someone put it, "A member of the Black Dragon that ran this country." It was patterned on the Indian Civil Service. As we draw to the last and final round of this battle to wrest control from the white man, it might be useful to recall the role this particular service played in the historical exploitation of the territories of South and South-East Asia. Let me read a passage on the Indian Civil Service by a distinguished Indian historian, Mr K. M. Pannikkar, one-time Ambassador of the Indian Government to the People's Republic of China, who had reason to know the various types of civil service that a State can model for its own use. He said this of the Indian Civil Service: "Under the 'lmperial' or central Government of India, there were the provincial administrators, again with authority delegated from the centre. The administration of India was conducted by a Civil Service, a regular mandarinate, recruited in England by open competitive examination. The curriculum of the examination was so arranged as to place a premium on candidates from the two metropolitan universities of Oxford and Cambridge, with their predominance of public school students, thereby ensuring both the 'class composition' of the services and the imperial tradition. In the first quarter of the century after the assumption of direct government of India by the Crown (1858) there were hardly any Indians in the Civil Service. Though from the end of the century a number of Indians continued annually to secure admission to the service, their proportion was not considerable until after 1919, that is, during the whole period of imperial supremacy. The Civil Service not merely administered, that is, collected the revenues, maintained law and order, and formed generally the magistracy over the entire country, but also participated in higher judicial work, a proportion of the judges of the Provincial High Courts being drawn from the administrative service. Below this practically 'all-white' service was a large Indian bureaucracy recruited on a provincial basis and strictly controlled and supervised in its functions by the former. It was through this subordinate or provincial service, exclusively Indian in personnel, that the authority of the Government penetrated to the masses. The control, however, was for a long time solely in the hands of European officials." Let me read what kind of society this mandarinate created in India: "One other aspect of British authority in India at this period was the conviction held by every European in India of a final and enduring racial superiority. Seton Kerr, Foreign Secretary of the Government, explained it as 'the cherished conviction of every Englishman in India, from the highest to the lowest, by the planter's assistant in his lowly bungalow and by the editor in the full light of the Presidency town - from those of the Chief Commissioner in charge of an important province to the Viceroy on his throne - the conviction in every man that he belongs to a race whom God has destined to govern and subdue.' Many equally authoritative statements of this point of view from persons in the highest official position in India could be quoted to show how universal this conviction was during the last century and indeed up to the time of the first Great War. One further quotation may, however, be permitted, as it throws light on the attitude of the army. Lord Kitchener, a most distinguished Commander-in-Chief of India, declared: `It is this consciousness of the inherent superiority of the European which has won for us India. However well-educated and clever a native may be, and however brave he may have proved himself, I believe that no rank that we can bestow on him would cause him to be considered an equal of the British officer.' ". And this is what Mr Pannikkar has to say about this. (Mr Pannikkar is now the Indian Ambassador to France.) "This flat racialism permeated all the services and constituted the distinguishing characteristic of British rule in the East in the 19th century. Its effects were widespread. In the Army, no Indian could hold a King's Commission. In the Civil Service, no Indian could enter by open competitive examination, no appointments above a certain rank were open to him, and the most distinguished Indian administrator of his day, R. C. Dutt, had to resign because, on the grounds of his race, he was not promoted to the post of a commissioner. Social life was, of course, exclusive, and from hotels and clubs and even from certain parks, unwritten rules excluded Indians. Also Indian life was held cheap. Rudd, a planter's assistant who committed an unusually brutal and cowardly murder, became on his conviction, a martyr, and the European public carried on an agitation for his reprieve." Sir, many things have happened since India of the 19th century. The superiority of the white man was exploded, first, by the Japanese armies and then by the Chinese armies across the Yalu River. And so also has exploded the myth of the White mandarinate. Once he was an elite, a person who was groomed to govern. After the war, with the "banana colonels", this mandarinate began to collapse, and we lived to see a Chief Secretary stand up and tell the poor benighted natives that so many hundreds of his European officials had only School Certificates but that they had commissions in the British Army and were therefore qualified to hold positions which local men with honours degrees from local universities were not thought fit to hold. This has been a long and bitter battle, but in Malaya it has been much shorter than it otherwise would have been, shorter than it was in India because the whole process of transfer of power in South-East Asia has been high-pressured. There is little time left for us to take over the whole apparatus of state and to make it function more efficiently than it did under the colonial system. In this apparatus of state the administrators are a decisive factor. There are two ways of revolution in Asia. One is the Indian model where a political Party, like the Congress movement, obtained through peaceful methods of non-violence and resistance the transfer of power and the transfer of the apparatus of state. That political movement then assumed responsibility and the use of an effective machine - the Indian Civil Service, the Indian Police Service, and the Indian Judicial Service. The fact that India is today better governed than Indonesia is because they took over an efficient working machine. The Dutch did not have to hand over to the Indonesians a working machine and the result was chaos and muddle in Indonesia during the last ten years. But there is the other pattern of revolution, that is the revolution in China. There they did not take over an existing machine. They built a movement that was a government in itself. Then when they took over, they swept aside the old machine and installed themselves as the machine. There is a fundamental distinction in the two methods. We in Malaya (and I still speak in terms of Malaya and not Singapore, because I do not believe that we could exist as an island state) have to choose the first method, the method whereby we take over peacefully and work the previous machine. Revolution by violence in Malaya, in my opinion, would lead to race war. I am sure no one in Malaya, whatever his political convictions, wants a race war. We are convinced that whatever the zigzags of policy between the Colonial Office, the local Nationalist groups and the Communists., the road for this country is the road of peaceful non-violent transfer of power. Therefore, it becomes imperative that when we take over this machine, it must work, or the whole basis of a democratic State will collapse. If U.M.N.O., or for that matter the Labour Front, were a revolutionary Party in the Marxist sense of the term, what would happen when they won power would be a sweeping aside of the whole of the administration and substitution in its place of the U.M.N.O. party machine as the government. But no constitutional Party in this country hopes or desires to do that. What we hope to do is to build a democratic State in which the machinery of the government is there working neutrally, whatever political beliefs or political convictions its drivers may have. No constitutional political Party hopes to build up a machine that can take over the administration of Singapore, or the Federation. What constitutional Parties hope to do is to take over the driver's seat, and the right to tell the Chief Secretary, the Financial Secretary and the Attorney-General what to do, for we shall then be the drivers. But it will be small consolation to the drivers if the machine that they are supposed to drive has broken down. It is therefore vital to see that with Malayanisation, the machine is no merely kept intact and efficient. It must be made more efficient and effective to meet demands which were never made on the previous machine. Under a colonial system which did not have to respond to popular and public agitation, one could govern from the clouds, from Mount Olympia. From Government House one issued edicts. One moved in pomp and splendour and the whole patina of the colonial Government gave prestige and weight to any edict that was issued from high places. That is not open and possible to a colonial Government now, and therefore this reluctant, belated hand-over. A popularly elected government will have to respond to popular agitation. We have to solve discontents where before, they could have been ignored with impunity. A colonial Government could send two Social Welfare vans down to the flood area and the Governor could come and tour the flood area with his trouser creases still showing above his rubber boots, and he can be hailed as a democrat. But if any elected Minister attempts to do that, he will perish in the next election. The need for a machine much more effective than before is vital. The survival of the democratic State, of the parliamentary system of government, depends upon whether the state machine can respond to the new needs. It is not enough just to have efficient routine officers who can write good minutes. It is vital that you find men with imagination, drive, integrity and purpose to make Malaya a thriving socialist democracy. Those who take over the white men's jobs must realise that not only their pensions, and their future prospects of promotion, but the future of a democratic parliamentary State depends upon whether or not they discharge their duties with honour and credit. Unfortunately in the past people have been chosen for the service, not because it was believed that they had signal qualities for service to their fellow-men, but because they had the signal qualities of docility and subservience to their white rulers. A member of the Public Service Commission told me several years ago that the reason why his son had got on in the world and got into the civil service was because he and his son were not connected with politics. He thought it was good advice to a nice young man like myself whom he should save from perdition. That typifies the mind of the men who choose our civil servants. We shall have more to say of this when the Public Service Commission Bill comes up for its Second Reading. If we want to fill the civil service with efficient people, then we must have men who understand the purpose of Malayanisation to do the choosing. If we have a lot of weak-kneed, flabby and feeble types who are more concerned with their personal welfare than the welfare of the people, to do the choosing, the whole fabric of government will collapse. We support in principle the policy statement of the Government on Malayanisation, but we reserve our right to bring up the question of the police service and the judicial service, and the right to criticise further other points of detail which, because of the shortness of time, we have not been able as yet to consider properly. Finally I wish to remind the senior officers who are taking over the control room that theirs is a trust to be discharged with honour. We hope that history will record the fact that they discharged it with credit to themselves and the community. 11.50 a.m.