Showing posts with label Frank Swettenham. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Frank Swettenham. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 12, 2024

TIME TO COME CLEAN! (updated)


Reincarnational fragments – or, more accurately, aspects of my multidimensional Self - have been accumulating and reintegrating in my conscious memory since 1969. This isn’t a continuous process. Many years go by when I am not aware of or bothered by these furtive intimations of immortality.

Sometimes a parallel life inserts itself into my immediate reality and I don’t know what it means or how to use it until much later. For instance, I came across the name Cthulhu in my teen years, chancing upon some paperback reprints of H.P. Lovecraft’s gothic tales of terror. At the time all Cthulhu represented to me was some indescribably hideous and scary monster from the subterranean depths of our collective unconscious, something you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley.

Subsequently I read two stimulating novels by Colin Wilson (The Mind Parasites and Philosopher’s Stone) and there was further light shed on this Cthulhu character: Wilson acknowledged Lovecraft’s source material but painted a somewhat different portrait of this entity, the first God-King of Mu, whom he called Ktolo and described as a very lonely being that after aeons of absolute rule in this remote sector of the galaxy turned somewhat misanthropic and withdrew from mortal view. Within generations Ktolo had entered the realm of myth as The Ineffable and Terrifying Presence, the Nameless One All Souls Have To Face On Judgment Day, and so on.


In effect, Ktolo had become the Devourer of Souls, the Invisible God all men feared. He it was who installed the earliest machinery of remote government on this planet. It facilitated the smooth administration of Mu’s far-flung colonies and kept everything humming along in apparently orderly fashion. Greed and Fear, Carrot and Stick: the tried and tested Management Method still in use today, after all these hoary millennia.

Ktolo’s sad story might well have inspired the legend of the Beauty and the Beast, in that he had begun to regress to the point where he felt himself too grotesquely complex, too repugnant, too horribly indifferent to ever be loved. What became of Cthulhu-Ktolo? No one knows and no one dares speculate. We may assume that Ktolo got so bored with existence that he longed for death, a permanent end to it all. But, alas, dying is just as illusory and transient as being born: Ktolo found himself scattered over time in myriad incarnations, each with a built-in dread of regaining total recall, for that would only result in Ktolo finding himself trapped in his own ego for eternity.

We do know, from documentary evidence collected and translated by the enigmatic James Churchward, that after the long reign of Ktolo, one of his descendants rose to new heights of popularity as King Ahau of Mu (aka One Hunahpu). This was just before the destruction of Lemuria, circa 83,000 B.C.E.

It was after the March equinox, 1993, in Bundoora (an aboriginal burial site in Victoria, Australia, where once stood a prediluvian stone circle) that my memory of having been Ktolo reactivated. I realized then that even in my present incarnation I had retained the same consonants (KTL) in my 3D name, Kit Leee. For some reason, many people, even old friends, have insisted on addressing me as “Kitleee” instead of just “Kit.” Now I understood why!

The implications of my life as Ktolo only recently struck home, after I obtained a Skyview Astrochart from my friend Katharina Bless. My lifelong antagonism towards all forms of external authority (in other words, government, bureaucratic control mechanisms) suddenly made perfect sense. Who would know better how detrimental government was to true spirituality than the one who instituted it on this planet during the infancy of human civilization...

That's right, folks, I'm the bloody nincompoop who introduced bureaucracy to Earth!

And that’s not the end of it. I just finished reading a 730-page account of Sir Frank Swettenham’s career as a colonial agent in Malaya. He arrived as a fresh-faced cadet in 1871 and by 1883 had been appointed British Resident of Selangor. It took him another 12 years to become Resident-General of the Federated Malay States and another 6 to be made Governor of Singapore. Before he opted for early retirement in 1904, he was named High Commissioner of the Straits Settlements as well. In short, Sir Frank was perhaps the most ambitious and hardheaded imperialist that ever clawed his way to fame and fortune between the 19th and 20th centuries. 


And it was he who introduced the idea of “development and progress” to what was once a tropical sleepy hollow, more than 90% of which was covered with luxuriant jungle (today we’re lucky if there’s even 30% left). Indeed, Sir Frank Swettenham was the blithering idiot whose excellent but environmentally destructive work on behalf of Ego and Empire I’ve been battling to undo in the last 30 years.

Throughout his illustrious career in Malaya, Frank was known to support the political supremacy of the Malay chiefs and his final act, two months before he finally checked out at the overripe age of 96, was to write a strong letter of protest against the proposal of the Malayan Union which would have granted all ethnic groups full rights as citizens under the Union Jack. With the benefit of hindsight, this was perhaps a far better idea than leaving state affairs in the hands of unscrupulous pirate kings and scheming grand viziers.

Well, once again, I only have myself to blame because I was that pompous bastard (can’t recall how I stumbled upon this particular realization but I’ve known it since 1989).

As for other lives, other personae, there’s much I have to say – but not here, not now – takes too much work putting it all in words. Language itself tends towards linearity and can never satisfactorily express the nonlinearity of multidimensional experience. However, it CAN hint at interconnections and far-flung associations and inspire fairly instructive analogies and metaphors.

For now, let’s just say that I have no one to accuse of screwing up the world but various aspects of myself (including those directly involved with what has been recorded as the Anunnaki colonization of the planet about 440,000 earthyears ago).

Yes, the atrocious misbehavior of covert agencies like Mossad, MI6 and the CIA stems from my own fear of being dethroned, of losing control. The sociopathology of industrial tycoons like Bill Gates (a majority shareholder in Monsanto, the most evil enterprise on earth, and arguably the greatest megalomaniac in the annals of linear time) is a spinoff of my own deepest, darkest desire to be the Sole Star in the firmament, the Only Living Deity (and a jealous one, to boot, who will tolerate no graven images lest they present my likeness in an unfavorable light).

So what does one do in view of this terribly incriminating self-knowledge? For a start, laugh and forgive oneself one’s apparent trespasses and stupidities. Next, to acknowledge that there is ultimately no one “out there” causing all these problems: it’s only bits of oneself that have yet to be brought safely home and celebrated as prodigal sons and daughters of our own limitless being. Why curse our experiential vehicles when they break down? We designed them and we must own up to minor design flaws, all of which can easily be rectified as soon as we learn to outgrow being embarrassed by our own excesses and oversights. Hey, Mr Hyde, you can’t hide forever...

By Chiron’s grace, may I be wholly reintegrated and healed, so that henceforth and ever after all will know peace, unity, harmony, perfect joy, and endless bounty.

The Entity Currently Going By The User ID:
ANTARES
~^@^~


[Written 9 January 2003, revised 12 February 2012 & 20 August 2015 & reposted 13 September 2016, 30 August 2019, 12 May 2020 & 13 November 2020]

Monday, June 8, 2020

THE MAN WHO SHOULD BE KING (revisited)

Raja Bok reunited with Antares at Kg Pertak 28 March 2009 (pic by Ana Lewis)

Last weekend I had the pleasure of renewing my 30-year acquaintance with a really lovely guy I've always known as Bok, though his official name is Raja Zailan Putra Raja Dato' Seri Haji Azam.

A mutual friend introduced us back in 1979 or 1980. I knew at the time that Bok boasted a royal pedigree. I saw photographs in his modest house of colorful characters in courtly regalia.

One that stood out was of Bok's great-grandfather, Raja Muda Abdullah (right), who signed the 1874 Pangkor Treaty with Sir Andrew Clarke and was anointed Sultan Abdullah of Perak.

Things started to go awry soon after that when the British sent a colonial officer named James Wheeler Woodford Birch (3 April 1826 - 2 November 1875) to Perak to serve as advisor to the Sultan.

From the standpoint of the Malay chiefs, Birch was arrogant and insensitive to local customs. He had no understanding of the Malay psyche and absolutely no facility with the language. Birch was appalled at the local practice of capturing Orang Asli and turning them into household slaves. He ordered an immediate stop to such barbaric activities. While it may have been a laudable act on Birch's part, it was akin to forcing a bunch of carnivores to go vegetarian overnight. His missionary zeal to civilize the natives cost Birch his life.


Dato' Maharajalela, who got the bulk of his income from capturing and selling Orang Asli as slaves, ganged up with a few disgruntled slave-traders and, on 2 November 1875, assassinated James Birch while he was taking his bath in the riverine village of Pasir Salak.

This led to the Perak War which lasted several months as British forces hunted down the leaders of the Malay rebellion. Dato' Maharajalela was captured and hanged along with other accomplices, while Sultan Abdullah was found guilty of complicity in the murder of J.W.W. Birch and exiled to the Seychelles for 46 years. One of Abdullah's cousins was installed as Sultan in his stead. It is from this lineage that the present Perak succession derives.

Bok, currently CEO of an insurance brokerage, told me he's the eldest male heir in his family. As such, when his father died several years ago, the succession would have passed to him. But for a twist of fate that saw his great-grandfather Sultan Abdullah Muhammad Shah deposed by the British in 1877, I would have been conversing last weekend in Pertak Village with the reigning Sultan of Perak.

Needless to say, there are distinct compensations for not being born in a palace. For one thing, Raja Zailan Putra has always been a jovial, easygoing, fun-loving chap with a wide circle of friends. His lifestyle isn't exactly conventional and he cherishes his personal freedom to be whoever and whatever he pleases. Everybody calls him Bok anyway and even if he were to appear in the full formal regalia befitting his royal status, his friends would probably insist on calling him Raja Bok.

In short, Bok has been able to live a relatively normal life, owing to the fact that his bloodline was removed by British decree from the Perak succession three generations ago, as punishment for rebelling against the colonial masters. There are many other royals who, like Bok, enjoy a certain measure of freedom from stuffy protocol, either because they aren't on the shortlist for royal succession - or because they have outgrown the musty traditions that would severely curb their individual freedom.

Raja Petra Kamarudin is a prominent example of someone with royal pedigree who consciously chose to align himself with the public good rather than self-servingly uphold private interests and special privileges. Or at least he succeeded for a while in projecting himself as such. There are several other maverick royals I am personally acquainted with but I won't name them here, because they may not be too keen on publicity.

I hadn't seen Bok in more than 20 years, so it was a great delight to bump into him driving a 4X4 along the old logging trail just outside Pertak Village. Mutual friends had arranged a camping trip by the river and Bok decided to come. It was genuinely sweet to renew our friendship and to note that this man who should have been a king had adapted so well to the life of a commoner.

Seeing Bok was a powerful reminder that, ultimately, what matters most is the humanity each of us is born with. The outer trappings are really quite insignificant. A pirate king remains a pirate no matter how reputable his tailor. And a noble soul stays noble, no matter how dire his or her earthly circumstances.

Another friend recently revealed that he grew up in Kuala Terengganu near the Istana and used to play badminton with the young Mizan Zainal Abidin who related to him like any other kid. But when Mizan was named the crown prince, things rapidly changed. Court officials forbade the boy from mixing with his old school friends and the lad became cloistered in preparation for his future role as Sultan of Terengganu (and at this writing the Yang Di Pertuan Agong).

Over the years, surrounded constantly by genuflecting servants, wizened counselors and persnickety courtiers, anyone would turn schizophrenic. The split between public and private personas would grow ever wider. What the public is allowed to see would be a stern-faced, unsmiling, overdressed symbol of hereditary power; while the private self either becomes cynical, detached and indifferent - or turns feral, debauched and dissolute.


One of my favorite stories of all time is about the Prince and the Pauper who traded places. I've often wondered if I would do a Siddhartha and walk out of the palace if I happened to be born into a royal bloodline.

In 1989 I experienced vivid "flashbacks" and "crosstalk" from parallel lives which forced me to be a lot more open to "reincarnational" scenarios. In several lifetimes I was of royal lineage - and the experience was never entirely happy. More than once I "remembered" being betrayed and murdered by those close to me. In short, life in a palace isn't exactly a bed of roses - and even if it is, there are always a few thorny aspects.

This is why I sometimes feel great sympathy for those trapped amidst the pompous paraphernalia and robotic rigmaroles of royalty. They are like the magical nightingale in a gilded cage, imprisoned by public expectations and compelled to sacrifice their personal lives for the sake of tribal continuity.

It's easy to view each successor to the throne as a Gulliver bound by Lilliputian constraints. The Little People scurrying around the Great Personage have a vested interest in keeping the Great Personage on a short leash. Like any institutionalized priesthood, the courtiers are the ones who ensure that protocols endure, for it assures them and their posterity a comfortable livelihood.

Coronation of Napoleon

The court officials have learnt to use pomp and circumstance and grandiloquent ceremony to shock and awe the Great Unwashed into superstitious subservience to specific bloodlines. But, ultimately, it's all a gigantic deception like ritual theater. Strip away the fancy costume, the shiny headgear and the inscrutable mask... and what stands revealed is a human being like you and me.

I told Bok I was really intrigued by his family history. He said there was a website with some information, including a detailed genealogy. I must remind him to send me the link. Who knows, the wheel of fortune is constantly in spin.

One day you could be the prime minister elect, and the next day a jailbird, and vice versa.

As I searched the web for images to illustrate this story, I realized that April 3rd happens to be James Birch's birthday. The Wiki entry on Birch names Frank Swettenham as the British Resident who succeeded Birch - a detail that gave me goosebumps, since I have long suspected that I might well have been most recently incarnate on this earth in the guise of a Maddog Englishman and empire-builder named Frank Athelstane Swettenham!

James Wheeler Woodford Birch did not die in vain, for the colonial officers who were subsequently assigned to Malaya were much better equipped and better prepared for their roles. Rather than be seen to act high-handedly on their own behalf, the Residents learned to manipulate the Malay rulers to do their bidding, knowing full well the natives' tendency to grovel before their sultans in superstitious awe. Some Malay aristocrats educated in England appear to have learned a few useful tricks from their erstwhile colonial masters.




THE PERAK SULTANATE
1. Sultan Muzaffar Shah (1528-1540 A.D.)
2. Sultan Mansur Shah I (1549-1577 A.D.)
3. Sultan Ahmad Tajuddin (1577-1584 A.D.)
4. Sultan Tajul Ariffin Shah (1584-1594 A.D.)
5. Sultan Alauddin Shah (1594-1603 A.D.)
6. Sultan Mukaddam Shah (1603-1619 A.D.)
7. Sultan Mansur Shah II (1619-1627 A.D.)
8. Sultan Mahmud Shah (1627-1630 A.D.)
9. Sultan Salehuddin Shah (1630- 1635 A.D.)
10. Sultan Muzzaffar Shah II (1636-1653 A.D.)
11. Sultan Mahmud Iskandar Shah (1653-1720 A.D.)
12. Sultan Alauddin Mughayat Shah (1720-1728 A.D.)
13. Sultan Mudzaffar Shah III (1728-1744 A.D.)
14. Sultan Muhammad Shah (1744-1750 A.D.)
15. Sultan Iskandar Zulkarnain (1754-1764 A.D.)
16. Sultan Mahmud Shah (1764-1771 A.D.)
17. Sultan Alauddin Mansur Shah (1771-1786 A.D.)
18. Sultan Ahmaddin Shah (1786-1806 A.D.)
19. Sultan Abdul Malek Shah (1806-1818 A.D.)
20. Sultan Abdullah Mu'azzam Shah (1818-1830 A.D.)
21. Sultan Shahabuddin Ri'ayat Shah (1830-1851 A.D.)
22. Sultan Abdullah Muhammad Shah (1851-1857 A.D.)
23. Sultan Ja'afar Shafuddin Shah (1857-1865 A.D.)
24. Sultan Ali Al-Mukammil Innayat Shah (1865-1871 A.D.)
25. Sultan Ismail Mu'abiddin Ri'ayat Shah (1871-1874 A.D.)
26. Sultan Abdullah Muhammad Shah (1874-1877 A.D.)
27. Sultan Yusuf Sharifuddin Mu'azal Shah (1877-1887 A.D.)
28. Sultan Idris Murshidul Azam Shah (1887-1916 A.D.)
29. Sultan Abdul Jalil Nasiruddin Shah (1916-1918 A.D.)
30. Sultan Alang Iskandar Shah (1918-1938 A.D.)
31. Sultan Abdul Aziz Al-Mutasimbillah Shah (1938-1948 A.D.)
32. Sultan Yusuff Izzuddin Shah (1948-1963 A.D.)
33. Sultan Idris Iskandar Shah (1963-1984 A.D.)
34. Sultan Azlan Muhibbuddin Shah (1984-2014)
35. Sultan Dr Nazrin Muizzuddin Shah (2014-present)

JANGAN TAKUT! FEAR THEM NOT!


[First posted 2 April 2009, reposted 8 April 2014 & 9 March 2016]