Sandakan, Italian Sabah. 28 February 1892
José Rizal was uncomfortable and tired.
The heat in the office was sweltering, but it was nothing compared to the tension in the air. Staring straight at the other man, the writer closed his offer. “With all that is said, sir… do we have an agreement?”
The sentence hung in the humid room.
It had been a long month, he mused, trying to convince everyone he knew in Luzon of his labour plan. It was no secret that Italian Sabah was in need of workers, but the administration was hesitant on following their colonial neighbours and employing foreign labour.
Coolies can easily outplace natives, and with everyone in Italy preferring the Papuan highlands to settle down…
Deep in thought, Rizal almost didn’t catch the governor’s response. “Your offer is interesting, and I have no doubt as to the tenacity of your countrymen."
A spark of hope flared up within him, only to be dampened by the man's next words. "However, your terms for the contact length for the workers is… something that needs further discussion. I will need to talk with my associates on this.”
Rizal exhaled.
“How long do you need?”
“I can arrange a meeting tomorrow.”
The nationalist fumed.
Another meeting… seems to be nothing but that around here. Still, the fact that he had gotten this far proved that the Italian companies were interested for any source of hard labour.
That they were willing to abuse their former labourers is a problem, though. I need to press them more about that.
Putting the thought away, Rizal asked for the time of the meeting.
Francesco Batti, Of Sultans and Headhunters: Colonial Italy in Borneo, (Nicollo: 1997)
…With all that being said, the system of
corvée labour practiced over Italian Sabah was exceedingly lenient when compared to the policies of the Spanish Congo. The paternalistic attitude of the Italian administration, coupled with the racial assessment of the Bornean Dayaks meant that colonial rule was less of a dominating force in the region, though the hand of Sandakan was often overbearing on the inhabitants.
After being conscripted, local Dayaks were grouped into ethnically-based gangs who would then work for only five days a week of sunup-to-sundown labour, with an hour of rest around midday. After the allotted days, the men would be free to return home while other groups would be brought in to continue their work. For wild rubber tappers, quotas for gutta-percha collection were placed low enough for most groups to accomplish their daily work, which – given the rarity of latex-bearing trees in the region – was more intended to squeeze the resource for as long as possible rather than for the sake of the workers. Forced labour groups were also employed to build up rural infrastructure, clearing vegetation for dirt roads and erecting telegraph lines throughout the length and breadth of Italian-ruled Sabah.
However, this did not discount the treatment that was enforced on the Dayaks. Life in the work gangs was harsh, with men toiling for long hours with little rest or relief under the glare of the tropical sun. Any recalcitrant or slow learners would often be beaten up by company enforcers for not being productive enough. Gutta-percha tappers who failed to collect their assigned quotas were punished collectively, with the most common form of discipline being a ‘forced group stand’, which could last for up to 12 hours under the heat and rain. In Tawau, the Alberto Timber Company became notorious amongst locals for the amount of accidents incurred during work due to the jerry-rigged sawmills that processed the valuable
chengal and
balau trees.
Besides this, the new government imposed a flurry of taxes that greatly exceeded the monetary norms established by Sarawak and Dutch Borneo. The integration of the locals into the cash economy was considered an ‘educational necessity’ to induce a solid work ethic and understanding global commerce. In effect, this resulted in a slew of rulings and petty taxes that angered much of the Dayaks, including – but not limited to:
- A poll tax of 1 lira per person per family.
- A ‘Window Tax’ of 15 centesimo per window per house.
- A ‘Rice Tax’ of 1 lira for every farmer who sold his own rice.
- A ‘Native Liquor Tax’ of 25 centesimo for felling a single palm tree for palm wine.
- A ‘Fish Tax’ of 1-10 lira for fishermen. The bigger the average catch, the higher the tax.
- A ‘Fruit Tax’ of 3 lira for orchard growers.
- A ‘Boat Tax’ of 2 lira for anyone who owns a boat.
- A ‘Dog Tax’ of 1 lira for owning a dog. This is multiplied if one owns more than one dog. [1]
Cumulatively, these taxes and more forced many locals to work in the new rubber, timber, and cash crop plantations set up along the river basins. The pay for their labour was often low and not enough to pay the new taxes, forcing many families to grow cash crops themselves instead of planting staple foods.
But what finally pushed the majority of Sabahans into open revolt was the intrusion of Italian companies into native land. To maximise profits under the Sandakan
corvée system, the authorities promulgated a new land law on April 1890 that would, in the words of Governor Fermiano Gattuso himself, “
…give the right of foreign companies to annex any lands and islands that are deemed as unproductive”. This not only deprived the right of the inland Dayaks to migrate to greener pastures, and not only did it denied the seafaring Bajau and Tausug of their island bases, but it also allowed the concessionaires to greatly control village affairs.
This was the last straw. Sporadic uprisings flared up all over the Labuk and Kinabatangan basins within weeks of the new ruling. Many cases were recorded of work gangs abandoning their duties, beating their enforcers back, overthrowing coercive chieftains, and killing company prospectors in defiance of land annexation. While most of these revolts were dealt with in quick order, a few metastasized beyond the scope of local control. In central Sabah, a coalition of Dusun villages united themselves under Awang Damit, a warrior-chief who led his forces in massacring concessionaire officers and setting colonial stations ablaze. After conducting a series of attacks around the Labuk basin, he and his followers drew back and established a stronghold near the Sarawak border, erecting wooden fortresses bedecked with gunnery purloined from their enemies.
Even greater than the Damit Revolt was the Mat Salleh Rebellion. The nobles and headmen of the Sulu Sultanate had seen their kingdom fall to the Spanish, but they themselves were very much active in establishing a new life on the Sabahan coast. Chief among these was Abdullah Salleh of Tawi-Tawi, who saw the arrival of the Italians as an ominous repeat [5]. A noble of Tausug and Sama-Bajau descent, he managed to command respect from both the seafaring peoples and the interior tribes due to his supposed oratory skills and brilliant networking. From 1891 onwards, Salleh and his followers attacked Italian ships up and down the coast, striking colonial authorities from Jambongan Island all the way to Semporna. Upon being chased, he and his men would melt way into the tidal jungles and mangroves, frustrating the local wing of the
Regia Marina.
For Sandakan, the two rebellions were a constant thorn on their side and quickly became a symbol of their incapability in combating native outrage; something which greatly amused the residents of Kuching and Pontianak. With unrest bubbling across the colony, the authorities conducted a form of
triage and prioritised Damit and his cohorts first. In 1894, a 3000-man force sailed up the Labuk River and slowly took fort after fort from the warrior-chieftain before finally subduing him in the Battle of Ragang. He was swiftly put to death, as were many of his supporters, but Dusun resistance continued in the western regions up until the early 1900. Dealing with the Salleh Rebellion was another matter altogether, with the wily warlord managing to evade capture up until 1904.
On another note, the scale of the rebellions also had an adverse effect on colonial economics. With most locals revolting against their work and with many Italians disliking the option of settling in Borneo, the Sandakan government began looking for other sources of labour…
Joseph Pairin Kitingan, The Land Below The Wind: A History of Sabah, (Charleston University Press; 1993)
…The problem of labour was a key factor in the development of Italian Sabah. Though most Italian citizens preferred migrating to Dalmatia or the Americas, there was a small enough number that looked to the eastern colonies as a fresh new start. With that said, most of
them preferred to settle in the cool highlands of Papua, rather than the hot and humid rainforests of Borneo. Worse still, several such migrants had, upon their arrival to Sundaland, changed their minds on relocation and began to put down roots in neighbouring Sarawak, Aceh, Malaya, or the Dutch East Indies instead. While the authorities did began to import contract labourers from China, it was not until 1892 that a permanent solution to the labour problem presented itself.
Unfortunately, it also led them to partake in their down diplomatic dance with their
other neighbour: the Spanish Philippines.
In the island of Luzon, the writer and nationalist José Rizal faced a perennial problem that has stymied his fellow countrymen for years: How to achieve justice against the Dominican friars. The Philippines back then were religiously headed by a self-perpetuating group of Augustinian, Dominican, and Franciscan priests whom have accrued lands, power, and influence at the expense of the local population. When a financial investigation into a Dominican
hacienda went south due to the friars’ influence in 1890, Rizal began to think of a new home for the impoverished farmers of his home province. After discussing with his cadre of like-minded nationalists, the writer began eying the recently-established colony of Italian Sabah [2].
It was this that led him to Governor Gattuso’s office in Sandakan two years later. Word of the colony’s labour troubles went far and Rizal saw an opportunity to establish a ‘free’ Philippine settlement in another land, far away from the watchful eyes of Manila. He proposed to the Governor that landless
Filipino farmers would be obliged to work, under contract, for a maximum of one year for the concessionaries, after which they would be free to establish their own farms in Bornean soil. Intrigued by the idea, the governor and the concessionaires argued back that for their enterprises to be profitable, the labour contracts must be extended to a maximum of four years, as well as a full decree from Manila authorising the venture.
After a week of negotiation, both sides settled on a compromise of three-years’ plantation labour for the migrants and a written assent from the Philippine Governor-General, Ramón Blanco [3]. The administrator was known in Manila for his conciliatory policies to locals and the man had some correspondence with Rizal in the years beforehand. Nevertheless, Blanco saw how such an agreement could be abused by the Philippine independence movement and noted to Sandakan that – while he is permissive to landless farmers and the countryside poor to migrate – absolutely no
criollos,
peninsulares, or
illustrados were allowed to set foot in Italian Sabah. After much deliberation, Rizal and Gattuso agreed. Althouhh this rule was ignored during the decade, the writer never got to see the results of his achievement.
In March 15, the first contract workers arrived in the colonial capital after a six-day voyage from Manila. From this, the new Philippine labour force quickly outplaced the native
corvée system, which allowed Sandakan to repeal some of the more grating taxes imposed on local Dayaks. Before long, traders from Mindanao and Zamboanga also established themselves and by 1895, an estimated 8000
Filipinos lived and worked outside the Spanish Philippines. Despite the wishes of the Governor-General, Rizal’s act highlighted the Bornean region to fellow nationalists as a place to ‘escape’ from the eyes of Manila, a notion that was helped by the Italian administration turning a blind eye to the ports. Small groups of
illustrados masquerading as traders were left untouched, so long as they refrained from staying longer than one week. As the Philippines boiled in the fires of revolution, such groupings became more and more of a common sight.
Former contract labourers collecting water at the outskirts of Tawau. Taken circa 1899.
On another note, the agreement also deepened the basis for the post-war Philippine claim on Eastern Sabah, a claim that has brought the nation both triumph and hardship. No matter how much ink has been spilled by revisionists, it is incontrovertible that native relations between the Philippine workers and the Dayaks during the period were dreadful. Although the
corvée system was relaxed by January 1894, tribal peoples were still forced to work in the cash economy in order to pay their taxes. Often, their work gangs were kept separate from the main labour force and they would take the more menial and dangerous jobs that were deemed unsuitable by
Filipinos, all under the colonial reason of, "
protecting native sensibilities". Dayak workers were also paid much less than their migrant counterparts.
Besides this,
illustrado opinions of the Dusun, Rungus, and Sama-Bajau were less than warm either. Though several nationalists such as Emilio Aguinaldo and even José Rizal himself denounced the unfair treatment of the work gangs, the reality remained that many nationalists considered forced labour as a
positive good for pre-state tribal subgroups, a notion that was shared by many progressives around the globe during the era. The rebellion of Abdullah Salleh, which often targeted Catholic Christian
Filipino communities as much as Italian vessels, also made many nationalists to dismiss the unfairness of indigenous policies.
This quiet acquiescence of native abuse, coupled with the preferential treatment of Philippine workers, strained inter-ethnic relations during the colonial era. And to this day, the legacy of this disconnect has haunted relations between the region and the greater Philippine Republic…
With its character of hardship and the remote nature of the place, it is no surprise that Sabah as a whole acquired a Wild West-feel among Italians back home. Dime novels and newspaper clippings throughout the 1890’s talked of the colony as a place of rough-and-tumble settlements, swarthy Byronic men, and groups of ‘noble savages’ protecting their livelihoods from outside encroachment. Perhaps the most famous of these were the works of Emilio Salgari, who published his famous
Sandokan series based on the reports of native uprisings against the
corvée policy [4]. A sceptic of colonialism, Salgari’s exploits of the famous pirate lord Sandokan and the character’s adventures against both British and Italian officers gave him immense public popularity, though it also came with greater surveillance from the pro-colonial establishment.
More darkly, the region also served another purpose in the political arena. After acquiring its first inmates during the preceding decade, the
Isolo del Diavolo prison complex operated in full swing during the global Last Quarter. Just like its French counterpart in South America, the Sabahan version on Timbon Mata Island was intended to house political enemies that were deemed too dangerous to be housed in Italy. Radicals, violent criminals and – most importantly – rabble-rousing anarchists were often rounded up and taken there to serve their sentences. Most died serving them in the small, squalid, and light-deprived cells of the complex. The conditions (or lack thereof) on the island were so marked and horrendous that one survivor gave the whole place its other, equally famous name: “
The Isle of Misery”.
It is perhaps incongruous then that the main source of Sundaland’s current leftist movements originated from such a place of despair…
Front cover of The Tigers of Mompracem,
featuring the first appearance of Sandokan and Emilio Salgari's most famous novel.
_____________________
Notes:
1. It is unclear whether such a tax was really implemented in Sabah IOTL, with many records attributing the ruling as mere rumour. Despite that, the supposed ruling was a supporting factor for native resistance against the British North Borneo Company (and ITTL Italians).
2.
This is actually OTL, with the writer considering a proposal for a Philippine colony at Sabah after a botched investigation concerning a church
hacienda.
3. NOT the same person as
this Ramón Blanco. His ITTL incarnation is an original character.
4. The
Sandokan novels were a thing IOTL, and would be even more so ITTL.
5. No relation to the
other Mat Salleh, who led another rebellion in Sabah IOTL.
EDIT: changed a few passages. Some of the words I used were long and redundant.