PETALING JAYA: History often celebrates those with titles, statues and streets named after them. But Karam Singh Veriah sought neither glory nor recognition, dedicating his life instead to fighting for workers and the poor - even when it came at a heavy personal cost.
His daughter, Jasvinder Kaur, a Kuala Lumpur-based lawyer and cookbook author, is the only surviving one of his three children. Ahead of what would have been his 90th birthday, she spoke to FMT about her father’s enduring legacy.
Born in Seremban on Oct 23, 1936, Karam was the eldest of nine children. His father, Kaher Singh Veriah, was a lawyer who joined the Malaysian Indian Congress.
A gifted student, Karam skipped several grades and earned his law degree at just 19. In 1959, at the age of 22, he became the youngest elected MP in newly independent Malaya, representing Damansara. In 1962, he was part of a Malayan delegation led by Tunku Abdul Rahman to New Delhi.
Yet, despite his political standing and legal career, Karam did not live the life many might have expected. When he died, there was virtually nothing to his name.
Jasvinder, 63, said her father spoke of his ambition to serve the country when he was only a young boy. “At the age of seven, he heard Subhas Chandra Bose give a speech in Seremban. He said then that he wanted to become prime minister.”
Jasvinder mentioned one episode from 1967: the Bukit Asahan march in support of 70 laid-off estate workers.
“He led the march all the way from Melaka to Kuala Lumpur to bring it up in Parliament, because he believed they had been wronged. I think he was stopped at Seremban and told not to cross the line, but he did. That’s how he was detained for four years.”
Karam was released unconditionally in 1971, but Jasvinder said his time in detention left lasting emotional scars.
“He was kept in a cell with hardly any light. I believe that broke him in a way because after he came home, he could never sleep without the light on till the day he died.”
Jasvinder said her father devoted much of his legal career to defending workers’ rights, particularly those with little power or money to fight for themselves.
“I remember him fighting against the National Union of Plantation Workers (NUPW). I would go to the estates, stay there and help him with Xeroxing papers. He felt the union had sold out the plantation workers, who were given meagre amounts and had their estates taken away from them,” she recalled.
Karam was also known for his fiery speeches in Parliament and his willingness to challenge the government. One of his most notable cases was the controversial constitutional battle in the 1980s to spare Sim Kie Chon from the gallows.
Sim was convicted of unlawfully possessing a firearm and ammunition and sentenced to death by the High Court in Kuala Lumpur.
“Mokhtar Hashim, a former minister, was found guilty of murder and sentenced to death, but he was pardoned. So, my father asked, ‘This boy possessed a firearm but never used it. Shouldn’t the law be the same for everyone?’”
When the Supreme Court dismissed Sim’s appeal, Karam publicly spoke out against the ruling. His criticism led to a conviction for contempt of court and a fine.
Jasvinder also said her father would often donate his legal fees to poor families when he won cases. His integrity and commitment to helping others were values she carried into her own life and legal career.
Unlike many Asian parents, Karam even encouraged Jasvinder to become a factory worker.
“When I was 12, he asked me, ‘Jessie, do you want to be driven in a Mercedes-Benz?’ I said, ‘Yes, of course.’ Being a lawyer’s daughter, I thought that was normal.
“He just said, ‘Do you want me to sell my soul?’”
Karam’s fight for workers’ rights extended beyond Malaysia. In the 1960s, he moved to India with his family, where he organised the first union for low-ranking police officers. His activism eventually led to his deportation and a ban on re-entering the country that lasted many years.
In 1985, Karam joined the Socialist Democratic Party as its legal adviser. His decades of activism came to an end in 1994, when he died of a heart attack.
Asked what she hoped Malaysians would remember most about her father, Jasvinder said: “That he was a man who never went soft, and who actually felt that the small man was important enough.”