even bigger revolt was being hatched. It came suddenly and brutally on the morning of 12 July 1963 at a time when the penal camp experiment had appeared in some ways to be a success story. The most heart-warming piece of news was that a detainee had passed his higher school certificate examination. Dutton, who regarded the settlement as his baby, was extremely proud of this achievement. He ran things in the belief that if you treat men like these with respect and in a civilised but disciplined way, they will reform and become good productive citizens after their release.
Major Peter James, a retired regular British army officer, then Director of Singapore Prisons, got to his office in Upper Pickering Street just before lunchtime after an inspection tour of Changi Prison. A radio message had just come in from Dutton with the news of a rumour that trouble was brewing - with the ominous threat that 'they are out to get me'. The two then argued about what to do next. Dutton said he had arrested the ringleaders and had everything under control. Despite Dutton's protests, James contacted the Deputy Commissioner of Police, Cheah Teng Check, who immediately ordered a troop unit to the island. With them went officers from Changi Prison - including Darshan Singh - armed only with heavy batons to quell the rioters. By the time he and other troops and police and prison officers were despatched, the situation was completely out of control. Frantic calls were then heard over the radio transmitter. It was Dutton calling for help. 'Situation very bad', he kept repeating until the radio room was in flames and he lay dying.
Dutton was hailed by James as a leader of men and was convinced that a majority of the prisoners were loyal to his leadership and would defend him in the event of any major trouble. James said Dutton had insisted on being given a free hand - even in the selection of the kind of men chosen for the experiment. He would run things his way or not at all. When James told him not to overwork the men and to stick to a 44- hour week, Dutton said he would never ask more of them than what he himself was prepared to do. But within days the settlement lay in ruins and Dutton lay dead, hacked and burned in an orgy of violence that shocked all citizens of Singapore, especially the soon-to-depart British establishment. When the riot broke out there was not a single gun on the entire island. Dutton was adamant that the whole experiment would fail if firearms were kept to maintain discipline. Another argument against having guns, however, was that the same weapons could fall into the hands of the prisoners in the event of an uprising. But to a Straits Times reporter, sent to the island to report on the experiment, Dutton pointed to a group of happy, hardworking detainees and said: 'I know they can turn into a vicious mob if they choose to but I feel it will never happen. There is good in them and I intend to bring it out'. It was something, it was later said, Dutton believed in until the very last seconds of his life - such was his faith in the men who slaughtered him.
The dream of the experimental penal settlement on Pulau Senang was actually the brainchild of Devan Nair, a founder-member of the People's Action Party. Nair was in jail in 1959 when the PAP was voted into office and one of the conditions Lee Kuan Yew laid down before accepting the invitation of the head of state to form a government was that Nair, and other suspected communist sympathisers, should be freed. But first he had to renounce his communist sympathies and accept Lee's brand of democratic socialism. Although he said he was well-treated himself when he was behind bars for advocating the overthrow of colonialism, Nair was horrified at the appalling conditions and treatment by the British of ordinary, non-political prisoners. They were mainly secret society criminals, suspected murderers, robbers, rapists and psychopaths detained without trial. Nair immediately
Major Peter James, a retired regular British army officer, then Director of Singapore Prisons, got to his office in Upper Pickering Street just before lunchtime after an inspection tour of Changi Prison. A radio message had just come in from Dutton with the news of a rumour that trouble was brewing - with the ominous threat that 'they are out to get me'. The two then argued about what to do next. Dutton said he had arrested the ringleaders and had everything under control. Despite Dutton's protests, James contacted the Deputy Commissioner of Police, Cheah Teng Check, who immediately ordered a troop unit to the island. With them went officers from Changi Prison - including Darshan Singh - armed only with heavy batons to quell the rioters. By the time he and other troops and police and prison officers were despatched, the situation was completely out of control. Frantic calls were then heard over the radio transmitter. It was Dutton calling for help. 'Situation very bad', he kept repeating until the radio room was in flames and he lay dying.
Dutton was hailed by James as a leader of men and was convinced that a majority of the prisoners were loyal to his leadership and would defend him in the event of any major trouble. James said Dutton had insisted on being given a free hand - even in the selection of the kind of men chosen for the experiment. He would run things his way or not at all. When James told him not to overwork the men and to stick to a 44- hour week, Dutton said he would never ask more of them than what he himself was prepared to do. But within days the settlement lay in ruins and Dutton lay dead, hacked and burned in an orgy of violence that shocked all citizens of Singapore, especially the soon-to-depart British establishment. When the riot broke out there was not a single gun on the entire island. Dutton was adamant that the whole experiment would fail if firearms were kept to maintain discipline. Another argument against having guns, however, was that the same weapons could fall into the hands of the prisoners in the event of an uprising. But to a Straits Times reporter, sent to the island to report on the experiment, Dutton pointed to a group of happy, hardworking detainees and said: 'I know they can turn into a vicious mob if they choose to but I feel it will never happen. There is good in them and I intend to bring it out'. It was something, it was later said, Dutton believed in until the very last seconds of his life - such was his faith in the men who slaughtered him.
The dream of the experimental penal settlement on Pulau Senang was actually the brainchild of Devan Nair, a founder-member of the People's Action Party. Nair was in jail in 1959 when the PAP was voted into office and one of the conditions Lee Kuan Yew laid down before accepting the invitation of the head of state to form a government was that Nair, and other suspected communist sympathisers, should be freed. But first he had to renounce his communist sympathies and accept Lee's brand of democratic socialism. Although he said he was well-treated himself when he was behind bars for advocating the overthrow of colonialism, Nair was horrified at the appalling conditions and treatment by the British of ordinary, non-political prisoners. They were mainly secret society criminals, suspected murderers, robbers, rapists and psychopaths detained without trial. Nair immediately
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