His travels began early, starting from his visits to London for talks on Singapore's self-government, to his trips to the United States, Africa, Europe and Australasia, to drum up support and investments for SIngapore.
One interesting thread in The Singapore Story: Memoirs of Lee Kuan Yew is how he was able to form lasting friendships with those in a position to help him in his political battles, first against the communists and later, during the turbulent years in Malaysia.
He could count on many British Labour ministers as friends, their comradeship underpinned by a common belief in the ideals of democratic socialism. Later, Prime Minister Harold Wilson's friendship was to prove decisive.
He worked very hard too during Commonwealth conferences, and in his meetings with leading Third World leaders of the time, including India's Nehru, Egypt's Nasser and Yugoslavia's Tito, to win over their support for the formation of Malaysia.
His memoirs contain accounts of how he made diplomacy work for Singapore; how, if not for Wilson's intervention, Lee might have been locked up by the Malay leadership in Kuala Lumpur. And how he won political support from leaders in Australia and New Zealand, and half a dozen African countries.
It was a warm, fraternal meeting. Harold Wilson poured himself a double whisky. I settled for a single, and as it was a beautiful September evening, we walked onto the terrace overlooking the Thames to enjoy our drinks. It was one of the most important meetings in my life. If Wilson became prime minister, I believed the Tunku would know he had to moderate his racial policies against the PAP.
Before dinner on Sept 11, 1964, I met Harold Wilson in the room he had in the House of Commons as leader of the opposition. We talked for 40 minutes. Indonesia's Confrontation of Malaysia was much on his mind, as were the Malay-Chinese riots in Singapore.
British troops were helping to defend Malaysia and he wanted to know if the new Federation was viable in the long run.
We had met more than once before and, face to face, I was able to be very frank when analysing our problems.
I told him that apart from Confrontation, which accentuated the Tunku's sense of insecurity, the Tunku and his colleagues found it difficult to give up their policy of total Malay dominance for a more balanced position between the races, although this was necessary now that the composition of the electorate had altered with the addition of Singapore, Sabah and Sarawak.
I said that my colleagues and I accepted that this would take time to change, that we did not envisage a non-Malay multiracial party taking power for at least 20 years.
I added that we could not and would not accept a Malay-dominated Malaysia in which the non-Malays were there on sufferance. That would be contrary to the constitution we had agreed with the Tunku.
Like Anthony Greenwood, UK minister for colonial affairs, he was reassured by my rational and objective approach.
Wilson was in high spirits. He expected to win the general election, and assured me that a Labour government would continue to support Malaysia against Indonesia's Confrontation.
He wanted Britain to do its share of containing Soviet mischief-making in South-east Asia, and Confrontation was one such mischief that the Soviets had created by supplying arms to the Indonesians.
He looked to me and the PAP in Singapore to make it easier to get this policy supported by Labour MPs.
It was a warm, fraternal meeting. He poured himself a double whisky. I settled for a single, and as it was a beautiful September evening, still light around 6.30, we walked onto the terrace overlooking the Thames to enjoy our drinks.
He was in an expansive mood and spoke animatedly of how he intended to run his new government.
He had some of the ablest men of his generation in his shadow Cabinet. He would get Britain going again by using her lead in science and technology.
It was one of the most important meetings in my life. If Labour won the election and Wilson became prime minister, I believed the Tunku would know he had to moderate his racial policies against the PAP.
With Alec Douglas-Home, the 14th Earl of Home who had succeeded Harold Macmillan as prime minister, the Tunku had felt a certain affinity as between two noblemen.
He was sure Douglas-Home would understand his needs and his style of government.
But the Tunku would suspect Harold Wilson and his bunch of radical Oxford dons of regarding him as an anachronism, akin to the tribal chiefs of Africa.
I therefore had more than a passing interest in the results of the election due that October.
There were over 600 British Labour Party MPs and prospective candidates at the dinner. Wilson, prompted by Greenwood, asked me to speak during the dessert.
I recounted the problems of Indonesia's Confrontation of Malaysia and how stability in the region and Malaysia's survival depended upon British resolve to prevent a larger nation from swallowing up its smaller neighbour by force.
If Labour formed the next government, I hoped it would honour the obligations that the British Conservative government had undertaken.
I said that given time people in developing countries would evolve a fairer and more just society, like the one in Britain of which they had read.
This theme resonated with the prospective MPs, and consolidated my standing with Wilson.
That was to make a crucial difference to events in Singapore in the coming year.
Later that evening Greenwood told me he had given me a captive audience and I had done a superb job in winning their support for Malaysia.
LEADERS
Later that evening Anthony Greenwood, UK minister for colonial affairs, told me he had given me a captive audience and I had done a superb job in winning their support for Malaysia. I returned home on Sept 13, reassured that if Labour became the government I would have friends in the party. Most of the MPs would have heard me speak that night and, I hoped, would remember me. I was reassured by my visit to London.
I returned home on Sept 13, reassured that if Labour became the government I would have friends in the party, with some of whom my ties went back to my Cambridge days in the 1940s.
Most of the MPs would have heard me speak that night and, I hoped, would remember me. I was reassured by my visit to London.
