THE MEMOIRS OF MUSTAPHA HUSSAIN - Malaysia Today

326 Memoirs of Mustapha Hussain
As instructed, Sutan Jenain came the next day. I was, once again
paraded, this time not in a jeep but on a bicycle. While cycling, I told
Sutan of the steps I had devised and executed to ensure the safety of all
KMM members. They were all my own. In critical moments, everyone
had to devise his own. I also informed him that according to British Intelligence,
Ibrahim had been flown to Jogjakarta by the Japanese military.
It was official news. Furthermore, based on my explanations during the
interrogations, the British no longer planned to arrest any of ‘our boys’.
In fact they were prepared to release those already detained, including
Idris Hakim from Kuala Lumpur and Datuk Wan Daud of Terengganu.
Sutan Jenain was pleased that my strategy did not reek of compromise.
“That is fine. You did not surrender yourself,” he said. I also
confided that my future was still uncertain as the British had not
announced in specific terms whether I was fully cleared of all allegations.
My case differed from that of Dr Burhanuddin Al-Helmi who was not a
KMM member and had not at any time confronted the British. My case
was also unlike that of Ishak Haji Muhammad. Although Ishak was a
KMM committee member, Ishak was already imprisoned when Malaya
was invaded. He did not move south with the Japanese. Idris Hakim’s
case was the oddest. He was also imprisoned in Changi Jail like Ishak,
yet re-arrested after the war was over and was currently being detained.
I therefore suspected that Idris had been charged with allegations outside
KMM matters. Perhaps it was the same with Datuk Wan Daud.
I concluded my recount of the interrogations by telling Sutan Jenain
that despite everything, I believed the British Intelligence Officers. I was
familiar enough with the British to know they would not renege on their
word over such serious matters. The old man’s face brightened with
hope. He loved all Malay freedom fighters like his own children and this
reassurance – that they would be unharmed – lightened the old man’s
heart. Sutan Jenain took me to meet old friends, but it was pointless.
Everyone was afraid, worried and suspicious. Some did not want us to
set foot inside their homes. Others pretended to be busy. I could not
blame them, as the plague I carried was one that could trigger arrests and
detentions. I told the old man so.
We thus cycled towards the hive of Malay nationalism, the Malay
Nationalist Party (MNP) office on the third floor of a shop-house along
Batu Road (now Jalan Tuanku Abdul Rahman) near the P.H. Hendry
Silver shop. As the white and red Sang Saka Merah Putih flag fluttered
in the wind, my heart swelled with nationalistic pride. I saw three persons
there, including Ahmad Boestamam, but I soon sensed a chill in the room.
Was I making them uncomfortable? Was it discomfiting to sit across from