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Enchanting Asian Social Landscapes
Enchanting Asian Social Landscapes
Enchanting Asian Social Landscapes
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Enchanting Asian Social Landscapes

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The study of social landscapes already exists as a discipline within the social sciences. Undertaken by sociologists, geographers, urban planners, architects, and historians, it is a developed multidisciplinary field of study. Thus, the basic approaches to the field are well-established and taught at many graduate schools. But teaching this established
field with a focus towards developing a new body of Asia Pacific Studies posed a challenge to this author and the students who came to study at APU. After muddling through various experimentations at curriculum design, the course came to a definitive framework of teaching and guiding students to write papers that could incorporate the existing social landscape theoretical perspectives and developing the new Asia Pacific Studies.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherBookBaby
Release dateMay 1, 2014
ISBN9789810795054
Enchanting Asian Social Landscapes

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    Enchanting Asian Social Landscapes - A Mani

    India.

    1

    A Tale of Two Streets:

    Urban Renewal,

    Transnationalization and

    Reconstructed Memories

    A. Mani

    Istill remember the earliest instance of a long-ago memory. My elder sister and I were playing on a side-lane of our Buffalo Road neighborhood. I was about two years old, bedecked in gold ornaments on my waist, neck, ankles, wrists and fingers. Unaware of the preciousness of gold ornaments, I merrily dropped a ring that rolled away and disappeared down a tiny hole in the ground. My nine year old sister struggled to slip her fingers into the hole and retrieve the ring but to no avail. In the end, she walked up the pavement and enlisted the help of some goldsmiths working in the nearby shops. Soon the entire Buffalo Road community of goldsmiths had gathered to retrieve the ring. My mother used to recollect the incident to tell us the greatness of the community spirit that prevailed at Buffalo Road in the late 1940s¹.

    Many years later as a teenager, I traveled across Singapore to collect stage backdrops for my school’s cultural show. I had to climb the steep steps of a three storied building in Norris Road. Upon landing on the roof of the building, a little wooden structure with a zinc roof top -- the head-quarters of a Tamil social organization -- greeted me. Shortly a man emerged with a beaming smile, greeted me, and pointed to a stack of five stage back-drops that I could take to my school. He did not ask for a letter of identification or the name of my school nor did he fix a date for the return of his stage backdrops. He just looked at me and said that his organization will give everything for the community’s youths and their development.².

    These two roads, Buffalo and Norris, forming the backdrop of my own life in Singapore, has also served and continues to reflect the meaning of community and identity for Tamils in Singapore. In the last sixty years, both streets have undergone change due to effects of urban renewal and other government policies in Singapore. The fundamental assumption underlying the accounts cited above is the self-evident good of development. But as recent scholarship has shown, the discourse of development is in many ways the rephrasing of teleological and hegemonic discourses of civilization, progress and modernity. Emerging at the end of the Second World War as a discursive strategy of post colonialism, the unquestionable goal of development constitutes a regime of representation generating dyadic identities of self and other, core and periphery, developed and underdeveloped (Escobar, 1995:10). The discourse of the two streets would show the development positions of the Tamil community vis-à-vis the Singapore nation-state in a temporal and spatial hierarchy where the marginalized³ community replicates a past growth stage of the developed world. The modern reality of the two streets would show them as a conduit to global capitalism in the age of flexible accumulation.

    Growth suggests that development of the nation-state follows an inescapable genetic pattern of human development; nation-states are collective individuals growing from infants to maturity (Gupta, 1998:41). As development discourse fixes the destination of nation-state subjects, it also constructs its obstacles in under-developed migrant bodies misshapen by lack and excess blocking the inevitable path of growth. Akhil Gupta’s exploration of the ‘postcolonial condition’ in rural India shows how the undeveloped and backward identity of the nation-state generated by developmental discourse becomes part of the self-knowledge of individuals, resulting in a ‘messy’ cognitive landscape of ‘hybridity’. This hybrid cognitive landscape mixes oppositions without necessarily dissolving its sources; what emerges has not been purged of inconsistency. The question facing the outside observer, then, is how does one conceptualize impulse, hybrid, incommensurable modes of thinking and being without filtering them of their meanings? (Gupta, 1998: 6).

    In Singapore, the twin position of the nation-state as both object and agent of development contributes to the messy hybridity of self-understanding. Singapore’s modern history shows a continuous engagement with a global development discourse, a legitimation of its integration with global capitalism. The community invoked, however, is a hybrid; a community focus keeps the referential character within its history and memory while the nation-state has initiated changes through various development models. Thus the resultant process is hybrid along interleaving axes: the relations within the community and the relation between contemporary global integration and earlier models like the British Empire and transitional periods during the pre-independence years.

    To Tamils in Singapore, the two roads, Buffalo and Norris are more than places. These roads are symbolically charged, shifting as locations in the larger Tamil history, as being part of a nation-state and being inter-locked with a globalizing world generated both by Tamils and others. Both roads are representative of economic development itself. The Tamils are not against change per se, but ask the question, on whose terms? (See Veeramani, 1996). To address that question, this chapter explores the history of the two roads, each less than 100 meters long, in Singapore’s so-called ‘Little India’, and argues the ‘messy’ cultural meanings of the roads that reflect on the buildings which serve as hubs in a network of negotiated interests, and places saturated with morality and memory.

    Looking at the significance of the two roads, I have adopted an approach that allows a cultural analysis of the landscape – the interwoven field of physical environment, moral agency and historical memory – where particular places keep a people’s sense of them (see Feld and Basso, 1996). Place is indefinite, but not indeterminate (Cassey, 1996:42); its particularity confounds erasure, and its fuzzy borders are permeable, giving room to absorb historical experience and keep memory ready at hand for precipitating moments of self-reflection. Roads and temples are prominent features in the memory of the Singapore’s Tamil community. They occupy a special place in the cognitive maps of place and self, and are conceived of differently by different groups of people within the community. At the local level, historical analyses of the roads reveal the evolution of power, defined as the interaction of forces, creative and repressive, oppressive and evasive, cooperative and co-optive (Dean, 1993:18) that have shaped the landscape with contradictory meanings. Landscape, then, is more than the physical setting of development; it speaks to development discourse by disclosing the complexity of local self-understanding enacted and gathered in places (Flower, 2004).

    The two streets that are the focus of this chapter lie in Singapore, within an area known as ‘Little India’ for purposes of urban redevelopment, historical conservation, and tourism. While both Buffalo and Norris Roads branch off the main Serangoon Road, Buffalo Road also connects Serangoon Road to Race Course Road. The following discussion of these roads, then, begins with a historical reconstruction of its physical landscape in the early decades of the twentieth century and its moral building – that is, the placing of relations, values, and ‘order’ consistent with the British Empires’ civilizing project, which in turn seeps into the memory of place. The account then turns to the breakdown of that order from the early 1940s, with the displacement of the community by global events such as war, breakup of the British Empire and the vicissitudes of island Singapore in pre-independence years. The People’s Action Party’s (PAP) civilizing movement radically reordered the meanings of these roads in its development project that imposed urban redevelopment and conservation, thereby renaming of the meaning of community, and leaving in place painful and contradictory memories. Discussion of the roads during the independence period focuses on the revival of these roads, a moment of self-reflection that precipitated layers of historical memory. By closely studying the various meanings attached to these roads by the Tamil community in different historical periods, we capture the layering of different civilizing projects in place and the changing relations of power in the landscape through the looking glass.

    The Two Roads

    In early nineteenth century, both roads were non-existent and part of a largely swampy and forested area populated by wild animals. They were not a part of Raffles Town Plan of 1828. Any attempt to trace the origins of these two streets must necessarily be ‘non-categorical, interpretive and sometimes even conjectural, depending on the information at hand’ (Urban Redevelopment Authority, 1988:8).

    From 1840 to 1890, Buffalo Road was part of the area that specialized in cattle related activities. They replaced the earlier agricultural activities. I.R. Belilios, a Venetian Jew from Calcutta was one of the leading cattle owners who employed Bengali workers from his home city. Thus the road was named indicating its predominant economic activity. The Kaliamman temple in the area might have reflected the shared religious orientation of being Kali worshippers amongst Tamils and Bengalees living in the area. Buffalo Road was but a street in the conglomeration of streets that evolved into a ‘uur’ (village with recognizable social domains) with a Kali temple becoming the nodal point of its well-being. The Tamil mind, as historically defined, still uses an adage learnt by all generations that reminds them not to live in a uur (a place, a village) without a temple. The temple is the most important structure among all temporal things needed for social order in a socially constructed society (the uur). Buffalo Road and Norris Road, falling into the geographical framework of the ‘uur’ had the Kaliamman temple as its centre. The temple was referred to as the Chunnambu Kambam Kaliamman Koil (The Kali temple at the lime kiln village) ⁴. Over time, the area attracted more Indians, especially the Tamils.

    It must be noted that Buffalo Road would have been on the fringe of the cattle sheds developed by Belilios from Bengal Presidency, and the origins of the Kali temple and its establishment could be traced to the devout Kali worship of the Bengalee workers at the Belilios enterprise. As most of the land adjoining the Rochore River was swampy, there is little chance for Buffalo Road to have evolved before 1836, the year the Rochore Canal was completed. The draining of the land around the Rochore Canal would have converted all former flood land into Buffalo Road and many other roads. The construction of the Rochor Canal and the subsequent draining of the area also allowed for the first biannual horse racing season to begin in 1843 at Farrer Park⁵. Buffalo Road was now connected to Serangoon Road as well as to the newly formed Race Course Road that brought those associated with the European community to live in the area. The cattle power together with those associated with cattle rearing brought together the resources for the building up of the area. Areas adjoining Serangoon Road across Buffalo Road became Eurasian community residences. Cuff, Dickson, Clive, Desker and streets still bear the names of the Eurasian families for whom these streets once served as private access paths to their estates.

    In the years from 1840 to 1890, the original agricultural landscape that benefited from the partial swamps owing to lack of drainage under-went rapid transformation. Cattle related activities replaced agricultural activities. Colonial government institutions like an asylum, leper hospital for women, Kandang Kerbau Hospital, Government Dispensary, the General Hospital, two police stations and a post office all came to make the area a liveable area (Siddique & Purushotam, 1982).

    Cursory surveys of Singapore often neglect that Indians have played an important role in the heavy transport sector that was made possible by the cattle (bullock carts) that Indians were familiar with. Cattle trade centred on present day Little India was dominated by South Indians. They were the labour as well the owners.

    Richard Owen Norris had an orchard in the present Norris Road area. His estate extended from Serangoon Road to Jalan Besar (Kampong Kapor today). Like many other Eurasians, he also had close links to India. The estate was owned by him from 1853 to 1897. He died in 1905 at his Paya Lebar Estate. R.O. Norris and George Norris were brothers, and the sons of an East India Company army officer. The Norris Orchard covered six acres, one road and ten poles and was acquired for them from the East India Company for 113 rupees, 9 annas and 9 pies in the 1830s. It was originally a sireh (betel) garden and partly planted with nipah. Both brothers planted mangosteens and other fruit trees.

    Richard built a bungalow on it, and all his ten children were born there. The Municipality constructed a road through the nipah land in the 1880s and called it Jalan Besar. In the 1890s, the Municipality acquired the back portion for their labour lines. The front portion was divided into building lots and sold, and following that a land boom started. The road laid through these lots was named Norris Road. Richard moved with his family to another old estate belonging to him at Paya Lebar. One of the lots was retained by the family and was used for building the Norris Memorial.

    Ramachandra (1961) reports on the Norris Memorial of being on a small grass plot besides a short gravel road connecting Norris Road to Hindoo Road. The memorial was reported to have been destroyed by the bombings during the Second World War, and only the remains of its base consisting of two stone tiers were observed by Ramachandra. When this author went to observe the memorial, it was covered by a wooden fence with overgrown plants and inaccessible for viewing. The third son of R.O. Norris, Harry Hugh Norris, created a Will on 25 January 1936 bequeathing the Memorial and the plot to the Municipality on the condition that they undertake to keep the memorial (when it was built) and the strip of land in good condition. The land was to be a public property and recognized as an ‘open space. The Municipality turned down the bequest. The executors of the Will were Messrs’ Aitken & Ong Siang. As the firm had closed down before the Japanese attack on Singapore, no legal authority assumed responsibility for the Norris Memorial.

    The nineteenth century witnessed the transformation of both roads from their agricultural and cattle rearing land use patterns. The close of the century brought more Tamils engaged in non-cattle related industry. Many Tamils came to participate as contractors and as labour in the construction sector that was booming during that period. By this time, the Serangoon Road area with its earlier Tamil concentration attracted the new immigrants. As the population increased, it generated its own demands for retail and service activities catering to the resident population as well as the larger Tamil population working in Southern Malaya. The new commercial activities outstripped the earlier cattle rearing and agricultural activities in the two roads and the surrounding areas

    Both roads also attracted settlement by families that began to take shape among the economically successful migrants. The draining of the swamps around the two roads as well as the outbreak of worldwide cattle related diseases in the late 1920s and early 1930s ended the import of cattle, sheep and goats. Municipal health ordinances from 1936 also ended the dairy farming activities leading both roads to become commercial-residential areas.

    By the 1940s, both roads became reflective of the larger social and economic processes of the Tamil community in colonial Singapore. The pre-war Buffalo Road consisted of a row of constructed buildings that housed a representative section of the community who were economically self-employed, and families that were highly respected. Not all houses were occupied by owners. As rent was controlled by law neither prohibiting tenant eviction nor raising of rent to the primary tenants, the residents of the properties became permanent residents of the properties⁶. Entering Serangoon Road from Bukit Timah Road, which lay across Rochor River (now Canal), one could see the Tekka Market on the right side with steps leading into the River with boats unloading market goods. Even though the market catered largely to a population of the Tamil Hindu faith, it also housed stalls selling pork or beef but on a minor scale and in a smaller area. The fence of the police-station on the left of Serangoon Road marked the beginning of low rise single storied shops. The corner houses at the Serangoon/Buffalo Road was filled by single men cooking and selling ‘idiappam’.⁷ All of them belonged to a single jati and often came from the same uur (village) in South India. The land adjoining the Rochore River which was still prone to flooding housed the post-office and government stores that kept government supplies like office furniture amongst others. These too employed a large number of people from the Tamil community with a few Chinese, Sikhs and others who interacted in Pasar Malay⁸ interspersed with Tamil words.

    Hamid Lane, separating the row of houses facing Serangoon Road and those facing Buffalo Road, was a small lane that led to a few houses that were occupied by Javanese families. The well-built houses that faced Buffalo Road were large by their size and were indicative of the wealth and status the household heads enjoyed in the colonial economy and in their communities. The houses were occupied by De Silva (Diamond jewellers), Ramasamy Nadar, Shaw Brothers, Noordin (Court interpreter), and Kasa Kandiyar (provision shop owners). The last house was a three-storied bungalow, occupied by families from Uttar Pradesh and Tamils. The Kandang Kerbau Maternity Hospital closed off the road forcing it to turn right into Kerbau Road and join with the Race Course Road. Even though all the residents on the left side of Buffalo Road or present day Tekka Market (or Zhu Zhiao Market – the name given by government when it was built) were economically powerful families, Ramasamy Nadar was viewed as the richest man. He was often placed with the richest men in the colony. He had three large houses joined together. The ground floor became a large hall where all public events were held and festivals celebrated. The second floor became the private residence of all his family members including the families of his married sons. Ramasamy Nadar was the owner of a construction company that participated actively in building houses across Singapore. He is often quoted even now as a man who did not know the number of properties he owned. He started his life as a contractor and provision supplier to estates in Johor, and then moved on to become an investor in real estate, and later, a property developer. He also owned two smaller shop-houses across from his residence in Buffalo Road. These houses were occupied by his eldest daughter, whose husband, Adhithan Nadar, ran a prominent law firm Singapore. The adjoining house was that of Annamalai Nadar, the manager who coordinated the vast holdings of Ramasamy Nadar. The latest automobiles that arrived in Singapore then were in Ramasamy Nadar’s possession. As he had too many of them they had to be parked in special sheds elsewhere.

    This author remembers the time when he used to run with his elder sister visiting the households of many relatives who were practicing goldsmiths in Kerbau Road, Bellios Lane and Race Course Lane. Goldsmiths who could not set up their own pattarai (factories that employed anywhere from 2 to 30 goldsmiths) either moved to other locations of Tamil

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