singaporegurkhas

This work is commissioned by the Singapore Memory Project.

singaporegurkhas

zakaria zainal

For the Gurkhas, and their families, serving our land since 1949.

I can still remember the first time I met retired staff sergeant Chandra Bahadur Gurung. He shared these words with me.

“When Malays were beating Chinese, Malay policemen would let them continue,” Gurung, a Singapore Gurkha who served from 1961 to 1988, says. “When Chinese were beating Malays, Chinese policemen would do nothing.”

Such a vivid account of Singapore’s historical past — at the height of the 1964 racial riots — left me curious to not just the Gurkha community, but also, their stories of a young nation.

What kind of stories would this community have of a country that is foreign to them?

These Gurkhas, men from Nepal, serve in the Gurkha Contingent of the

author’s noteSingapore Police Force. Established in 1949, the legacy of the Gurkha Contingent goes beyond the independence of Singapore.

After the war, including the 50s and 60s, as Singapore arrived closer to independence, the Gurkhas came into prominence as they played a key role in neutralising riots—especially those that involved the Chinese and Malays.

Famed for their bravery, loyalty and impartiality, they were valued as an impartial force in light of multi-ethnic tensions.

Hence, I decided to track these retired Singapore Gurkhas in Nepal, found in various states—Pokhara, Bhairahawa, Dharan and Kathmandu.

After interviewing and photographing these Gurkhas, I created an

anthology of portraits and anecdotes as these Gurkhas reminisce about life in the Lion City.

And they shared tales of Singapore when the various kampongs were scattered all over this little red dot.

And they shared tales of how Singapore developed, slowly but surely, as a first world nation.

And it is my hope to create a visual archive of these Gurkhas so that we remember the contributions of such immigrant societies—before we forget.

For their stories, are stories that belong to Singapore as well.

Zakaria Zainal

introductionIndra Bahudur was one of the pioneer non-Gurkha Nepali who came to Singapore in the early 1950s together with his brothers and set up a tattoo shop. Soon they shot to fame amongst the British who in turn contributed to making them renowned tattoo artists alongside imprinting upon them a misconceived Gurkha identity. Indra Bahudur, Aita Singbir Thapa, and Chandra Bahadur, became termed by the British as ‘Johnny Two-Thumbs Up’, ‘Johnny Gurkha’, and ‘Johnny Himalaya’ respectively. In part, the usage of the term ‘Gurkha’ reflects the enduring misconception among several who regard all Nepalese as Gurkhas in Singapore. More importantly, the history of the Gurkhas, their significance in Singapore’s security and, the continued legacy of the Gurkha militia are poignant.

The Brigade of Gurkhas in Singapore formed part of the British Army during the 1950s and 1960s. They were stationed at Slim Barracks near Portsdown road, and in Pulau Blakang Mati—now better known as Sentosa. Around the same period, the Gurkha Contingent was formed in April 1949 as a crucial component of the Singapore Police Force as well as an alternative special force to replace the Sikh Contingent. The Gurkhas have not solely made their historical mark in the Singaporean arms but in physical structures such as an estate and some street names (e.g., Nepal Park, Nepal Circus and Kathmandu Road).

In the years preceding and following independence, the Gurkhas played a key role in the internal security of Singapore. Colonial imaginations that categorise the Gurkhas as a ‘martial race’ continue to define these legendary fighters who hail from Nepal. In the Singapore context, the Gurkhas have been valued for their impartiality since the colonial to the contemporary period, and as a result, they are politically disenfranchised; disallowed to gain Singapore citizenship. In the 1950s and 1960s, the Gurkha Contingent was deployed during

some of Singapore’s most tumultuous historical episodes when racial tensions and frequent demonstrations prevailed, such as the Maria Hertogh riot (1950), the Hock Lee Bus riots (1955), the Chinese Middle School riots (1956), and the racial riots of 1964. In 1978, Changi Prison and Moon Crescent Centre were being guarded by an elite Gurkha unit, known as the Prison Guard Unit, and this was the first time that any country had enlisted Gurkhas as prison wardens. According to Singapore’s Ministry of Home Affairs, the Gurkhas principle roles are to act as a specialist guard force at key installations and to serve as a supporting force in police operations.

At an adolescent age, Gurkhas are usually around eighteen to nineteen years old when they enlist into the Singapore Police Force. In view of the economic hardships in Nepal, many families see enlistment into the British Army or Singapore Police Force as equivalent to securing a place in Oxford university. The Gurkhas serve in Singapore for approximately twenty to twenty-five years. During their service, they are each given a four-digit numerical identity and are categorized in that chronology rather than their names. Around the age of fourty-five years, the Gurkhas are repatriated to Nepal together with their families. At present, it has been estimated that there are about two thousand Gurkhas and together with their families, there are approximately five to six thousand members of this community residing in Mount Vernon Camp on Upper Aljunied Road. The Mount Vernon Camp that spans 19 hectres is a self-contained area that includes various facilities to make Gurkha families feel at ‘home’.

Mount Vernon Camp physically marks out the social disengagement of the Gurkha community from Singapore. Though they have the freedom to interact with locals and form friendships, they are disallowed to integrate into Singapore since they act as an extension of

the government’s vigilance to maintain racial harmony. Valued for the loyalty, dedication, discipline and most importantly, impartiality, the Singapore Gurkhas have rendered invaluable service for the last sixty-three years. Batches of Gurkha sojourners have left their mark in Singapore, and the stories they share tread together salient episodes of our country’s history.

Repatriation to Nepal is perceived in different ways by Gurkha families who are largely nostalgic about permanently leaving a country they regarded as home. While some seek re-employment in security related services abroad for a second career, others view repatriation as a means to return to Nepal and contribute towards the social development of their birth place. Conversations with the retired Gurkhas illuminate Singapore’s history of racial riots, other troubled periods, and exclusive insights into then Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew. Through the eyes of the Gurkhas from thousands of miles away, their oral stories bring to sharper focus men who were living testimonies to the history that has shaped multi-racial and modern Singapore. However, these Gurkhas have truly become distant voices. Their life and times and recollections exist far beyond Singapore, in the remote realms of Nepal.

Hema KiruppaliniResearch AssociateInstitute of South Asian Studies (ISAS)Singapore

4088Retired Police Constable Bhaktabahdaur Gurung

The 1950s was a time when blood was spilt over religion and race in Singapore.

Bhaktabahadur Gurung was witness to the 1950 Maria Hertogh riots.

Malay and European communities rioted because of a court ruling to give custody of young Maria Hertogh to her biological Catholic parents after being raised as a Muslim for eight years.

Standing guard at the Supreme Court, he remembers seeing young Maria — reluctantly — being ushered into the car with her natural mother and then driven away.

Over 1000 rioters were present at the Padang on that fateful day he recollected.

“With so many people rioting, the army had to be called in and a curfew set in place,” he said.

Bhaktabahadur Gurung holds up a memorandum of his service in the Singapore Gurkha Contingent. The 88-year-old served from 1949 till 1961.

4236Retired Sergeant

Tulsi Prasad Gurung

Near the turn of the decade, Singaporeans prepared to cast their votes in the 1959 general election under the new constitution.

Retired sergeant Tulsi Prasad Gurung recollects the mood of the nation during this election.

“There was an enthusiastic feeling in the air for the people,” he said “as Singapore was now a self-governing state.”

It was an historic event. Gurung and the Singapore Gurkhas were called for election duty.

They were deployed at various locations on nomination day where political candidates declare their intention to contest a seat in parliament.

And on the final day, Gurung and his men escorted ballot boxes to the voting centres as Singaporeans voted for their future leaders.

The result: The People’s Action Party led by Lee Kuan Yew won 43 out of 51 seats in parliament.

Tulsi Prasad Gurung holds up an old photograph of his section of men taken in 1966. The 76-year-old served from 1951 till 1972.

4706Retired Police Constable

Dum Bahadur Gurung

Dum Bahadur Gurung remembers when Singapore was part of Malaysia—and the 1964 racial riots, which started during a Malay procession marking Prophet Muhammad’s birthday.

In keeping the peace, he would patrol the vicinity of Geylang Serai together with local police, where most of the unrest was occurring.

With one Chinese and one Malay policemen to deal with their own community, the Gurkhas acted as a neutral presence. A curfew was declared and only lifted 11 days later.

“If we saw pockets of people gathering, we advised them to go back home,” he said, “or we had to send them back.”

The riots killed 36 people and left more than 500 injured.

The violence did leave him fearful but he knows, as a Gurkha, he has a duty to uphold.

Retired police constable Dum Bahadur Gurung holds up a photograph of himself in uniform, taken in the early 1960s. The 67-year-old served from 1962 till 1983.

6782Retired Police Constable

Jagan Bahadur Gurung

“Itu masa, Singapura banyak susah lah.”

The 1964 racial riots was a difficult time for Singapore explained Jagan Bahadur Gurung in Malay. But it was not all doom and gloom he added.

In some kampungs or old living quarters, where both Malays and Chinese lived, communities made the effort to keep the peace.

While he was on patrol, they even invited him to their homes for tea and light snacks which they declined as they were on duty.

“They complimented on how tough we look with our hats,” Gurung said referring to the broad rimmed khaki hat which has become the signature headgear of the Gurkha Contingent.

But Gurung’s best memory is of then Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew in a vehicle with a loudhailer, visiting affected areas.

“He spoke in three languages — English, Malay and Chinese — to crowds, urging to keep the peace.”

Jagan Bahadur Gurung holds up a framed photograph of himself in uniform, just a few years before retirement. The 67-year-old served from 1964 till 1982.

4579Retired Inspector Dhanpati Gurung

A live bullet shot stunned the silence of the night.

An insurgent with a sniper rifle had fired from a nearby offshore island.

“Everyone took cover at that moment,” retired inspector Dhanpati Gurung recalled when guarding Singapore’s coastal areas from the threat of Confrontation.

In the darkness, and with his section of Gurkhas, they tried to locate the insurgent from the direction of gunfire—but he got away.

This conflict was then Indonesian President Sukarno’s guerilla warfare response to the proposed merger of the Federation of Malaya with Sabah, Sarawak — and Singapore during the 1960s.

Also known as Konfrontasi, Indonesian troops would infiltrate Singapore and carry out acts of sabotage, including the MacDonald House bombing that killed two and injured more than 30.

“Luckily no one was hurt,” Gurung said. The threat was very real he added.

Dhanpati Gurung holds up a framed photograph of himself on duty at 38 Oxley Road guardroom, near former prime minister Lee Kuan Yew’s living residence taken in the late 1970s. The 68-year-old served from 1960 till 1984.

The Gurkha Contingent marching down an unknown street as they took part in the National Day Parade of the late 1960s. Photograph courtesy of Chandra Prasad Gurung.

An unidentified Singaporean Gurkha in the old Gurkha uniform taken inside Mount Vernon Camp. Photograph courtesy of Prem Bahadur Limbu.

Chandra Bahadur Gurung poses for a photograph in his blue police uniform at Bukit Timah. Photograph courtesy of Chandra Bahadur Gurung.

Retired Singapore Gurkha Chandra Prasad Gurung taking a photograph in uniform during the early 1960s inside Mount Vernon Camp. Photograph courtesy of Chandra Prasad Gurung.

A newspaper clipping from The Straits Times of Chief Inspector Man Bahadur Limbu escorting a ballot box from the 1959 General Election. Photograph courtesy of Prem Bahadur Limbu.

(clockwise from far right)

gurkha memory project

ThE SINGAPoRE GuRkhA CoMMuNITy NoT oNLy oPENED ThEIR hoMES, BuT ALSo ThEIR oLD PhoToGRAPh ALBuMS. ThEy ShARED wITh ME whAT ThEIR VISuAL MEMoRy oF SINGAPoRE wAS—IN ThE TANGIBLE FoRM oF AN oLD PhoToGRAPh.

ARMED wITh AN IPhoNE AND ThE hIPSTAMATIC APP, I RECoRDED ThESE IMAGES IN ThE hoPE ThAT ThEy CAN BE ShARED wITh ALL SINGAPoREANS—SINGAPoREANS LIkE you AND ME.

A family portrait taken at the Botanical Gardens in Singapore. Photograph courtesy of Chandra Bahadur Gurung.

Nepali children singing their national anthem inside Mount Vernon camp where there is a school for learning their native language. Photograph courtesy of Miman Sing Gurung.

A formal portrait of two Singaporean Gurkhas and their wives taken in Singapore. Such studio photographs were a regular sight in the homes of the retired Gurkhas. Photograph courtesy of Prem Bahadur Limbu.

Singapore Gurkha wives and their children taking a group photograph at the basketball court inside Mount Vernon Camp during the mid-1960s. Photograph courtesy of Chandra Prasad Gurung.

Singapore Gurkha wives taking a photograph along Tai Sing road. Photograph courtesy of Chandra Prasad Gurung.

(clockwise from far right)

gurkha memory project

ThE SINGAPoRE GuRkhA CoMMuNITy NoT oNLy oPENED ThEIR hoMES, BuT ALSo ThEIR oLD PhoToGRAPh ALBuMS. ThEy ShARED wITh ME whAT ThEIR VISuAL MEMoRy oF SINGAPoRE wAS—IN ThE TANGIBLE FoRM oF AN oLD PhoToGRAPh.

ARMED wITh AN IPhoNE AND ThE hIPSTAMATIC APP, I RECoRDED ThESE IMAGES IN ThE hoPE ThAT ThEy CAN BE ShARED wITh ALL SINGAPoREANS—SINGAPoREANS LIkE you AND ME.

4709Retired Corporal

Moti Lal Thapa

The birth of the first child remains a big and significant milestone for the Gurkha and wife living in Singapore.

It was in 1969 when Moti Lal Thapa first held his eldest daughter in his arms.

As much as he was overjoyed, it was an oddly different experience for Thapa.

Back home as a young boy, he remembers his village people helping mothers deliver their newborn—with only their bare hands.

“During that time, there were no doctors or nurses like in Kandang Kerbau Hospital,” he said.

In Singapore, Kandang Kerbau hospital specialised in women’s healthcare and childbirth.

Most Gurkha children were born in this hospital off Little India.

For Thapa himself, all his daughters were born in Singapore with his one son born in Paklihawa Transit in Nepal, on his leave.

Moti Lal Thapa holds up a framed photograph of his family taken in Singapore on the year of his retirement. The 68-year-old served from 1962 till 1985.

9119Retired Staff Sergeant Youm Kumar Tamang

The first time Youm Kumar Tamang stepped into Singapore in 1963, he was a Gurkha—but not with the Singapore Gurkha Contingent.

During his short spell with the British Gurkhas, Tamang can still remember working in the British Gurkha Transit Camp in Dover Road as well as the Gurkha Record Office in Tanglin.

With many Singapore civilians working in the Gurkha Record Office, he remembers the good rapport the British Gurkhas had working with them.

“One clerk, her name was Mrs Monica Chan,” he said, smiling “and we all used to call her didi (elder sister).”

Tamang left the British Gurkhas to be with his family back home before rejoining in 1978.

His subsequent visit to the Lion City, he became a Singapore Gurkha.

Youm Kumar Tamang holds up a framed photograph of himself in uniform, taken just before retirement. The 68-year-old served from 1978 till 1994.

7008Retired Staff Sergeant Prem Bahadur Limbu

Even after independence, Singapore could not escape the spillover effect of the 1969 racial riots in Malaysia.

Also known as the May 13 Incident, it was the worst case of communal violence in Malaysia’s history. The government decided to declare a state of emergency and suspended Parliament until 1971.

Retired staff sergeant Prem Bahadur Limbu remembers that fateful week in Singapore when news of the Malaysian riots had spread home.

Violence broke out in areas along Jalan Ubi and Jalan Kayu he said.

“Parangs and spears were used in the clashes,” he said, highlighting the seriousness of the conflict.

The communal riots left four dead and 80 wounded, in a span of seven days.

The Gurkhas were called upon for 24-hours vigilance duty. Throughout, the Gurkhas worked hard to restore the peace.

Prem Bahadur Limbu holds up a framed photograph of his late father, retired chief inspector Man Bahadur Limbu. His father was a founding member of the Singapore Gurkha Contingent—the photograph was taken in 1963. The 64-year-old served from 1964 till 1991.

4941Retired Sergeant

Dal Bahadur Tamang

It was an ordinary Saturday, an off-duty day, for retired police constable Dal Bahadur Tamang.

Together with his wife, they had wanted to take the cable car back to Mount Faber from the offshore touristy island of Sentosa. “It was her first time,” he said, having just got married.

Little did they know that they would have been one cabin away from the cable car incident of 1983.

Tragedy struck when two cable cars plunged into the sea — killing seven people — after the cableway was struck by the derrick of an oil drilling vessel.Thirteen people were left trapped in four other cable cars between Mount Faber and Sentosa.

“We were told to wait for the next one, then we saw the cable cars plunge,” Tamang said, using both hands to show the free fall.

The close shave still leaves him shaken till today.

Only later on did he realise, during that fateful day, his wife was expecting his first child as well.

Dal Bahadur Tamang holds up a photograph of himself in uniform. The 54-year-old served from 1975 till 2000.

4546Retired Inspector

As Bahadur Limbu

At 75, retired inspector As Bahadur Limbu has but fleeting memories of his 27 years in Singapore—till he opens up his photograph album.

Inside, faded photographs are neatly arranged but not in any chronological order.

As his fingers flick through the photographs, he stopped at one. It was of his family, posing in front of a pagoda at Haw Par Villa—a Chinese mythological theme park.

Another photograph, was of Limbu in his singlet, flexing his biceps — like a bodybuilder — with a cheeky smile.

He shared that his wife had taken that picture while they were in their old home in Mount Vernon camp.

“At any time, I can simply browse through and reminisce,” Limbu said in Malay.

This, before he gazed intently at another photograph of himself in his Gurkha uniform.

As Bahadur Limbu holds up a framed photograph of himself in uniform, taken in his last few years before retirement. The 75-year-old served from 1956 till 1983.

Special thanks to:The Singapore Memory Project team for their support

Ms hema kiruppalini for her introductory textMr Tan wei Zheng for the kukri logo

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