Singapore 2025

31 January 1990

The Straits Times

(c) 1990 Singapore Press Holdings Limited

The first programme of SBC’s discussion series Points of View was broadcast last week. The panel comprised Mr K. Shanmugam, MP for Sembawang GRC, Mr Leslie Fong, Editor of The Straits Times, Dr Khong Cho Onn, lecturer in the Department of Political Science, National University of Singapore, Mr Ken Lou, an architect, and Dr Hong Hai, MP for Bedok GRC. We publish below excerpts from the transcript of the discussion “Fashioning the Next 25 years”.

MR K. SHANMUGAM: It is quite easy to paint the picture of an idealist’s ideal state … economy that’s continuing to grow, greater distribution across the board of national wealth. A more just society.

But I would like to focus on one aspect of the political system which forms or provides the framework within which you try to achieve such a society.

And in my limited experience, what I think is lacking now and what I hope to see in the future is a society that’s more participative.

You can have democracies and democracies. The idea of a larger segment of society being able to operate and use the democratic process which is not, after all, just voting once in every four years. Something more than that.

I would like to see a society that’s able to understand issues, that’s willing to participate.

MR KEN LOU: What’s important now is that central to the idea of the intellect and culture is what we would like to call myth, and I think in this generation young people are beginning to look for a myth about culture.

It’s about expressions and impressions and from this creation of the myth, we would then go on to the next level of desire when we have already fulfilled most of our material ones . . .

An intellectual is a real intellectual probably only in the third generation when he’s not snatching up scraps of culture but growing up surrounded by it.

DR HONG HAI: I would put it a little differently. A human being has a body, a mind and a soul.

I think a nation also has a body, a mind and a soul. In Singapore, the body is in good shape. We have excellent infrastructure. We are quite developed as a city. The nation’s mind, I think, is doing quite well.

We are a disciplined society. We are numerate. We are literate. Our children are quite well educated.

MR LESLIE FONG: Can I jump in to say that I agree with Dr Hong Hai on broad principles, but I’m not as optimistic as he is, because I’m by nature a pessimist, and I think before we can even go to that stage, I can see quite some dangers ahead of us.

It is in this context that I give my wish list, which is my hope that in the next 25 years, we stay together as a nation because I think the chances of us staying together as a nation are by no means to be taken for granted.

I worry, in particular, about how we, as a people, would react with each other. In particular, I’m talking about relations between races and communities.

I’m beginning to see fissures opening up in our society which, if we are not careful, will lead us to grief.

In particular, I can see, for example, Malay Singaporeans going through a stage where I think, they have to decide for themselves whether they want to be more Malay or more Singaporean.

I think the rest of Singapore, in reacting with them and in trying to respond to their anxiety, must collectively, together with them, help them come to terms with themselves.

Basically, we are all Singaporeans, regardless of whatever our ethnic and religious pull.

I, for one, wish that Singapore would take pains to come to terms with these realities, and hope we can stay as a nation and build a more tolerant society because I think at the bottom of it all, must be tolerance, the ability to accept each other for what he really is, not what we want him to be.

DR KHONG CHO ONN: I would like to say I agree wholeheartedly with Leslie – that there is a need for greater tolerance in this society, a need for a greater sense of unity, a greater sense of one community in this society.

I think if we want to talk about being more Singaporean, I think all of us should talk about being more Singaporean and less Chinese, less Malay, less Indian as well.

I don’t think it’s a question of the minority races. I think it’s a question we should all address ourselves to. And perhaps this doesn’t quite find reflection in some of the Government’s policies.

DR HONG HAI: I think the way to have racial harmony is not to pretend that differences are not there.

I think it’s perfectly consistent with racial harmony for the Chinese to feel very Chinese, the Malays to feel very Malay and the Indians to feel very Indian, but at the same time, also feel Singaporean.

I think it is totally consistent with a multi-racial society that the Chinese promote the speaking of Mandarin and the Tamils the speaking of Tamil.

I don’t think we ought to pretend the differences are not there. It would only lead to more problems.

MR SHANMUGAM: That’s one perspective, I agree. But quite a different perspective could be that well, when you emphasise the individual cultural identity, you cannot pretend that they don’t exist.

But when you start emphasising it, then what? It would inevitably be at the expense of a common culture or development of a common culture even if we don’t have one now.

It’s all a question of emphasis, and I think the point that might have been made is that – is the emphasis overly on the individual races rather than a balanced approach?

DR VIVIAN BALAKRISHNAN (National University Hospital doctor): I’m of the younger generation. We’ve grown up for the past 20 years with a fairly good propaganda machine which led us to believe that we were all Singaporeans regardless of race, language and religion.

Recently, however, you have government ministers questioning the loyalty of certain segments of our society to this nation.

You can’t expect people to be loyal to you when you question their loyalty outright at the beginning. That’s your first premise.

That is the surest way of creating a self-fulfilling prophecy.

MR SHANMUGAM: The way I perceive it is that for the first 25 years, the focus was on developing that common culture, a strong bond within.

And of late, the emphasis has been maybe slightly shifted. And it’s moved over to emphasising the individual cultural identities, perhaps as a realisation that we were losing what little we had by trying to forge something.

So it may be a difference of perception rather than one of a propaganda machine putting forward a certain line, trying to get to the first level of common unity, and then from there on, trying to develop individual cultural identities and hope that the common cultural identity will evolve slowly.

DR BALAKRISHNAN: How can you get to the first level by questioning someone’s loyalty?

MR SHANMUGAM: Granted, you cannot question loyalty if you want loyalty. But let me put this as a hypothesis, if you feel that a certain factual matrix exists, is it better to face it and say how you can overcome the problem or is it better to avoid it?

DR BALAKRISHNAN: Now that’s precisely the problem. What evidence does the Government have, or what facts does the Government have to make a statement questioning the loyalty of certain segments of our society?

MR SHANMUGAM: I don’t think that statement was ever made. I think that’s the way some people have perceived it.

I think what was said was with the frank attitude of trying to discuss the issue on why we have to try and bring the Malays into the mainstream, and why they are not in.

That sort of question-and-answer session, I think, has been blown out of proportion into one of questioning the loyalty.

MR KENNETH LIANG (Chairman): And if I can move on to another area of what you said, Mr Shanmugam, about wanting to see greater participation in the next 25 years, can you elaborate on that?

MR SHANMUGAM: The large majority have no intention of participating. And I don’t know that you can really proceed with the status of developed country when, a large proportion of your population is in that state.

What was said was that we could ossify. So … we certainly don’t seem to be able to encourage people.

The complaint has always been that the Government is not participative.

My own feeling, having been elected for a year, is that the people are not willing to participate.

DR KHONG: Today there is a sense of stasis, there is a sense of waiting for directives, there is a sense of people being unable to formulate coherent alternatives of their own to put forward to the Government, to the people in power.

And there is therefore a need in encouraging participation to further open up the political process, to further encourage people to come forward with ideas, initiatives and opinions. In other words, to offer alternatives to just one orthodox view of doing things.

MS GERALDINE LOH (Circulation Promotions Manager): I’d like to just elaborat e on the point that you brought up, Mr Shanmugam.

Now you said that you’d like to see more participation from the public. I think I’m from your generation, too. But I think that most people would not want to speak up simply because of the past.

And then the Government has got to ask themselves, why do people not want to speak up?

And I’d like to say something about the civil service. I used to be in the civil service and I resigned for the simple reason that you could not speak up.

If you wanted to write a letter to the Forum Page, you had to get clearance.

You’re willing to identify yourself, and yet you have all that red tape. So when the Government has barriers like this, obviously people are not going to speak up.

And from the public’s viewpoint, I think that if you’re going to open up, the civil service has got to open up first before you can expect the other people to come in.

MR FONG: I think, having watched the flow of letters to The Straits Times’ Forum Page, and having observed a lot of these discussions and participation, before we even talk about participation, I would dearly like to see people taking pains to understand issues first before they jump in with views . . . I think there is this myth about participation, everybody jumps in with a view and then if there are 75 people, there are probably 78 views. Some change their minds half-way.

I think the key to a more tolerant society, the key to a more participative society, lies in the people themselves taking pains to understand the issues . . . while it’s good to say, let a hundred flowers bloom and a thousand schools contend, we had better take pains to make sure that issues are understood in all their complexity before views are fired left, right and centre, because I think a cacophony of false voices would lead to even more confusion rather than enlightenment.

MS LOH: Next question is how.

MR FONG: The question can be answered this way. It can be achieved by first, the people who have the information upon which to make decisions or upon which to at least make contributions.

Now I think a good example would be the car issue. I could remember a time some years ago when the question was very much – why not leave things alone – why do you have to tinker with transport measures and so on?

But I think, because of constant exposure, because of information being made available to the public, Singaporeans have, by and large, moved away from questioning why something needs to be done at all, to what should be done.

And that is a step forward because people are now talking on the basis of some knowledge, that there is a finite number of cars you can allow on the road, that there is just so many kilometres of roads that you can build.

So the first step, to answer your question, is that the people who have in their possession – and let’s not just point the finger at the Government, because it is a problem that spans the whole society – people who have information ought to make available that information if that information is conducive to public discussion and the enlightenment that follows from it.

That I think is the first critical step to take.

DR KHONG: I think you put your finger on the problem. The fact of the matter is that at the end of the day, only a very small minority would be fully conversant with any given issue. There has to be a perception, among the majority though, that there has been a free open debate on that matter at the level of that minority perhaps.

There has to be a perception that there are channels of information flowing down through which people can have access to all the relevant points of view on any particular debate – not just those aspects or just those points of view which the Government wants them to be conversant with.

And I think there is a sense of misperception that this is not taking place, that only certain points of view are put forward to them.

MR FONG: I just added another item to my own wish list, which is that, let’s lay this ghost of the past 25 years to rest because there is always this constant reference a big brother Government over the past 25 years suppressing dissent and whatever.

Now I am not going to debate the rights and wrongs. I think different people have different perceptions.

MR JON ONG (National University of Singapore Society): I think that I have faith in the future. I am bullish about the next 25 years.

I mean, just judging from the things that have occurred over the past decade in Singapore gives me enough confidence that Singapore is one place that the young of today will find a place where they can express themselves more freely than their parents could ever have done.

More opportunities to break out from job moulds and other types of moulds and more opportunities for expression, not only in political matters but also in culture and the arts. I think the Government has done a great job in the past few years to bring about the environment that we have today. I believe this environment will likely prevail in the coming years, thereby giving people the opportunity to mature and, as Mr Shanmugam has said, the participative democracy will come about.

I don’t think we need to force this process. I foresee the Government, a strong Government, taking the lead.

MR SHANMUGAM: I think this was precisely the opposite of what I was suggesting because there is a tendency, I think in Jon’s perception, to equate strong government participating with the people for a more glorious future.

To me, that somehow doesn’t sound right. This total emphasis on what the Government does should no longer be the focus. It’s what the people want and what I hope will happen is that we would have a significant substratum of people who are able to engage in informed discussion and have points of view which need not necessarily tally with the Government’s. It should not be up to the Government. It should be up to the people to decide what they want.

DR BALAKRISHNAN: I like to interject on this point. There’s been a lot of discussion on this issue of leadership transition.

Most of us have thought of it in terms of the old guard passing the baton to the younger leaders but I would like to bring up the flip side of that coin. That an essential element of democracy is the option to have a smooth and peaceful transition of leadership to a group which may not be in power today and I therefore like your opinion, of the politicians here, perhaps as to that impression of the role of a future viable alternative government.

DR HONG HAI: I think it would be naive to expect a ruling government to create its own opposition, to create its own alternative and to ensure that it is competent and will take over.

It’s not done. If the PAP does weaken, if it fails to win the mandate of the people, then it is for Singaporeans to ensure that an alternative party comes up that it attracts good people and good talent and that it provides a viable alternative government.

What we have in Singapore today is what political scientists call a one-party dominant Government. You have an opposition but it’s not strong enough to form an alternative government.

One-party dominant governments are not at all uncommon. Japan has had a one-party dominant government for well over 30 years and nobody doubts that there is political freedom in Japan or that Japan is a very efficient and successful society.

DR BALAKRISHNAN: I’m just suggesting that PAP should perhaps play cricket. And give other players a chance in the field.

MR MARTIN SOONG (Business Times Journalist): I see obstacles now to freer more informed press. There is an inordinate emphasis on face-saving where political figures are concerned and this is sort of tied to deference to authority. Is there anything we can do about it or should we do something about it?

MR FONG: Let me answer it this way. If it is face-saving at the expense of truth, then as an editor I would opt for truth rather than face-saving. But as an Asian, as a Singaporean, I would also subscribe to the motion that face is very important in our society. I don’t think we have reached the level of emotional maturity where people can take . . . a drubbing in public. So where face-saving does not impede truth, I’d say, yes, by all means, let’s try to observe that.

The alternative would be a society in which everybody goes at everybody else and nothing is sacred and you can denigrate and you can mock, and you can caricature. Is that really good for us? Just because somebody else has done it does not mean we have to follow.

I think there is nothing wrong in accepting that there should be a certain degree of deference to authority because the alternative is that you again have a breakdown of social discipline and order. But it should not obsequious deference to authority, to the point where you surrender your mind.

MR LIANG: Can we just round up this discussion now with perhaps some very brief comments from the panel?

MR SHANMUGAM: I think I opened a Pandora’s box with my comments on participatory politics or participatory democracy. I am glad to have received the views. My own wish is that this sort of participation would extend down to a much greater proportion of the population. If that is achieved, I think, we would have achieved a lot.

MR FONG: I wish we could really, collectively, build a more tolerant society , with tolerance at every level, not just the political but the social, religious, community. Then there is plenty to look forward to in the next 25 years.

DR KHONG: I think the discussion has showed how difficult the next 25 years is going to be because in the past 25 years, you could set quantitative targets on what you want to achieve and you could then go ahead and achieve them. In the next 25 years, people want a diverse range of alternatives, most of which are not quantifiable, and which will therefore be harder to identify and to achieve.

MR LOU: Well, I think the basic question really is a sense of identity and a sense of place. If we have a home to call our own, we will stay here. And at the end I believe it has to do with people. We can have technology, we can have computers, we can have high-stress life. But essentially if the government and also the private sector can place more stress on meaning and what people are looking for themselves, I think that’s the society we would want for the next 25 years.

DR HONG HAI: We are worried about this problem of immigration from Singapore. I think the solution to our emigration problem is not just in making life more easy, making the growth rate, economic growth rate, higher here or better housing and so forth. These factors will help.

What is going to stop Singaporeans from emigrating is the sense that this is home, this is the place where they can identify with the sights, the smell, the sounds. This is the place where their friends are. This is what will keep Singaporeans here.

And I hope that in the next 25 years, we will develop this spirit of belonging, we will develop the culture, the arts, the unity of purpose that will make us a nation and that will keep us together here in Singapore.

Ends.

Originally published in the Temasek Review: http://www.temasekreview.com/2010/10/05/the-youth-olympic-games-complacency-in-the-pap-governance-model/

A couple of stories over the past few weeks on the recently organised Youth Olympic Games (YOG) in Singapore caught the eye. All centred around the Ministry of Youth Sports’ (MCYS) management of YOG volunteers and the MCYS Minister, Vivian Balakrishnan’s response to the inflated YOG budget in parliament.

On 21 Sep 2010, The New Paper reported that a complimentary trip, arranged by the Singapore Youth Olympic Games Organising Committee, went awry when150 students from Queenstown Secondary School were turned away from Universal Studios Singapore. The trip was organised by the YOG Committee to thank students who volunteered at the Games. Apparently the students had to go home because of a mistake in an email from the YOG Committee.

The same week, it was discovered that the certificates for around 45,000 volunteers, participants and staff received for services rendered in support of the YOG contained “sample signatures”, rather than those of International Olympic Committee (IOC) President Jacques Rogge and YOG Committee Chairman Ng Ser Miang. According to the YOG Committee, this was due to “an oversight in the checking process.” Vivian chimed in with an apology, “So on behalf of the organising committee, I say sorry. But I also say, far louder, a big thank you to all of you who made this Games possible.”

Earlier this week, due to an “administrative flop”, it came to light that some YOG volunteers did not receive their complimentary race tickets for the F1 Singapore Grand Prix race weekend from 24-26 September 2010. Instead, they received their tickets on 27 September 2010, after the event was over.

On 30 September 2010, a letter to the Straits Times written by one Keith Gerard Tan queried why the YOG countdown clock at Ion Orchard and the big screen near Mountbatten MRT station were still in operation more than a month after the YOG ended. He also queried when the authorities were going to remove the “Give Way” markings on the roads all over Singapore and concluded, “if the sports authorities wish to remember the YOG for posterity, build a proper Olympic park rather than leave scattered remnants that serve no purpose.”

Weeks before these shortcomings came to light, Vivian Balakrishnan in parliament no less, defended the tripling of the budget set aside to organise the event by providing a breakdown how the $387 million YOG budget was spent, since the original cost was budgeted at slightly more than $100 million. The “probing” questions came from PAP MP for Hong Kah, Zaqy Mohamad and PAP MP for Tampines Irene Ng, both of whom queried why the actual expenditure was more than initially budgeted and how other sporting events organised in Singapore compared.

Vivian’s response was that the PAP government’s inexperience in handling world-class events led to overspending and the tripling of the budget for the YOG. This odd answer aside, no MP found it appropriate to question where the additional 200-odd million dollars to fund the event came from except Non-Constituency MP and Workers’ Party Chairman Sylvia Lim (Vivian said it came from the Ministry of Finance without elaborating).

The Minister then went on to cursorily detail the breakdown of the amount spent on the YOG as follows:

• $97 million: Technology
• $76 million: Upgrading of sports venues and equipment
• $45.5 million: Live broadcast plus staging of opening and closing ceremonies
• $7 million: Journey of Youth Olympic Flame across the globe, starting in Greece
• $44 million: Logistics
• $18 million: Security
• $14.3 million: Operational requirements
• $5.4 million: Culture and Education Programme
• $79.8 million: Miscellaneous costs such as medical services and training of volunteers

Unfortunately, Vivian did not proceed to provide details of the companies and corporate entities that received YOG-linked contracts as a result of the tripling of the YOG budget, even though he used the word “transparency” a number of times in his parliamentary address. Singapore has earned a reputation as a place where the standards of governance and corporate social responsibility are very high. It would have served Singapore’s national interests had Vivian provided a detailed breakdown of YOG-related contracts or at the very least, pointed to where Singaporeans could find that information in the name of good governance. After all, good governance, accountability and transparency are major reasons that explain the economic presence of internationally renowned MNCs in Singapore. More critically, had Vivian taken the opportunity to reach out to a higher standard of accountability, any lingering concerns Singaporeans might have had over suspicions of pork-barrelling with parliamentary elections around the corner, would have been soundly put to rest.

On a different tangent, some PAP members, senior civil servants and grassroots activists are known to privately remark how ungrateful Singaporeans are in spite of all the PAP has done in securing the opportunity to stage the first Youth Olympics for Singapore – words and terms such as unappreciative, unthankful, insensible, grumbling and a “lack of perspective” have all been employed in some way or form. What the PAP ecosystem refuses to consider is that Singaporeans are NOT an ungrateful citizenry – but that Singaporeans have become unforgiving because the PAP has made us so.

The PAP prides itself on paying ministers and the policy-making administrative service the highest salaries found anywhere in the world. At every juncture, it has championed the virtues of these individuals as men and women of the highest calibre, capability and integrity. It should then come as no surprise to the PAP that Singaporeans hold the political and administrative elites to exactingly high standards, even more so when it comes to staging high-profile events.

On 29 September, in response to the latest revelations of the YOG Committee’s ‘volunteer mismanagement’, The Online Citizen’s facebook page hosted a random poll that queried, “Weeks earlier, we asked if Vivian Balakrishnan should step down for the YOG fiasco. Do you now feel he should tender his resignation? If you do, please click like.” In a matter of hours, more than 200 individuals had done so.

But Vivian Balakrishnan’s resignation will do nothing for a reality that has entrenched itself over the last few years within the public service in Singapore. In fact, the post-YOG “cock-ups” referred to above worryingly suggest that standards of public service have stagnated and could fall in future. Amongst other reasons, the failure of the mainstream media and PAP parliamentarians to question the government more incisively, has contributed to a culture of complacency in the public service.

Some have attributed this to the age-old “scholar-farmer” divide within the public service. As numerous precedents indicate, promotions to the very top echelons of public service are dominated by a small vanguard of administrative service officers. As such, it makes little sense, both cognitively and financially, for some rank-and-file public servants to strive for excellence. In addition, these very public servants are wont to reason that it makes strategic sense to save one’s energy for the high-profile endeavours rather than oversee superficially mundane matters such as YOG volunteer management with a fine-tooth comb.

A coterie of around 350 Administrative Service scholars leads the 120,000 strong Singapore Public Service (65,000 in the civil service and about 60,000 in the statutory boards). Although the public service theoretically is a separate arm of government, the Administrative Service straddles the executive and legislative arms of government, operationally forming a cocoon around the PAP political leadership. Administrative service officers write speeches for PAP ministers and they represent the brains behind many if not, all PAP policies. At the age of 32, the average administrative service officer earns in excess of $350,000 a year. By 45, he or she can expect to become a Permanent Secretary earning in excess of $1.2 million a year. When political salaries are statutorily increased, administrative service salaries follow in step. Quite simply, the relationship between the political and administrative leadership in Singapore is a symbiotic one.

Many in the 120,000 civil service understand the contours of this relationship. Some civil servants do become administrative service officers at the mid-career stage, although it has been suggested that some element of devotion to the PAP cause arguably determines this promotion. Over the years, anecdotal information suggests that a not an insignificant number have left public service because of this apparently “meritocratic” state of affairs.

Many of those who remain in service cannot afford to leave because of the relatively high civil service salaries they cannot command in the private sector and separately, because of the realities of servicing a mortgage or two and the financial realities of looking after their loved ones. Of course, there are some who genuinely believe they are in an apolitical public service, and that they serve the state, not the party in power. Sadly, these individuals do not make it to the top, and even if they do, they do not seem to last very long – and that is a travesty of the highest order. Former Attorney-General Walter Woon could have been one such individual, a prospect that was raised when in an interview with the Straits Times on the back of his short two-year tenure as Attorney-General remarked, “best to leave before you outstay your welcome, although I think among some people, I’ve already outstayed my welcome.”

These structural realities within the public service have led to the crystallization of a bifurcated civil service, partly a development of the scholar-farmer debate that characterized the public service in the 1980s. That debate has since mutated into one centred on the financial benefits of joining public service in Singapore.

Slightly more than 10 years to this day, Chua Lee Hoong, the current political editor of the Straits Times (“Boost non-monetary draw of public service”, 8 July 2000) opined – If the Singapore Public Service was to avoid monetary motivations from becoming a draw to join the public service, ways had to be found to increase the “psychic income” or spiritual satisfaction that public service brings.

Chua ended her piece as follows: “How? Well, there are probably half a dozen ways, but that, as they say, is another story for another day.”

Chua was correct in regard to the diagnosis, but absolutely wrong as far as the medicine was concerned. That was not a story for another day. That was an urgent story that required reflection ten years ago. The post-YOG fallout is proof of it. The malaise and lethargy afflicting the civil service today could foreshadow the standards of public service Singaporeans can expect in future.

Ends.

Useful Links

Minister says sorry: http://www.straitstimes.com/BreakingNews/Singapore/Story/STIStory_582737.html

MCYS says sorry to YOG volunteers for latest gaffe: http://sg.yfittopostblog.com/2010/09/29/mcys-apologises-to-yog-volunteers-for-latest-gaffe/

Room for improvement in explaining YOG overspending: http://www.straitstimes.com/STForum/Story/STIStory_579953.html

Singaporeans unappreciative of Vivian: http://mysingaporenews.blogspot.com/2010/09/singaporeans-unappreciative-of-vivian.html

YOG initial budget inaccurate: http://news.asiaone.com/News/AsiaOne%2BNews/Singapore/Story/A1Story20100916-237380.html

45,000 YOG certificates to be reprinted: http://www.todayonline.com/Singapore/EDC100924-0000086/45,000-YOG-certificates-to-be-reprinted

S’pore YOG organising committee apologies for printing errors: http://news.asiaone.com/News/AsiaOne+News/Singapore/Story/A1Story20100923-238795.html

Stop video clips and countdown clock: http://www.straitstimes.com/STForum/Story/STIStory_584788.html

Free F1 tickets arrive too late for YOG volunteers: http://news.asiaone.com/News/AsiaOne+News/Singapore/Story/A1Story20100929-239545.html

___________________

Boost non-monetary draw of public service.

8 July 2000

The Straits Times

(c) 2000 Singapore Press Holdings Limited

A LONG, long time ago, my economics tutors used to teach the concept of “psychic income”, a notion explaining why the pay of people like nurses, doctors, social workers and teachers remained low relative to other professions, despite their shortage in the economy, and the undoubted value they bring to society.

These jobs, so the theory goes, bring spiritual satisfaction, over and above that provided by pay.

Nurses and doctors hold in their hands power over health and life; social workers restore sanity and happiness; and teachers help bring children up in the way they should go.

With rewards in such lofty realms, money is but shallow and base – and therefore not a mark of one’s ability or worth.

I do not know if the concept is still taught in schools – if it isn’t, it must be a sign of changing times.

But one person, at least, still has some notion of it: Mr George Wong, who wrote in The Straits Times’ Forum page on Thursday, commenting on the pay increase for university professors.

“As an old man, I wonder what has happened to old-fashioned values like a love of learning, dedication, and job satisfaction. Have they all been replaced by monetary gain?

“In the last millennium, the greatest advances and achievements came from men who were underpaid and overworked.

“Their reward was the satisfaction of their emotional and spiritual desires, and not their desire for money,” he said.

His remarks carry added punch, coming after a week of much wringing of public hands over the ministerial pay hike.

Indeed, the subject is still the stuff of dealer-room chatter, of cafeteria conversation and of taxi monologues.

Several reporters from this newspaper carried out a street survey earlier this week. The unsurprising finding: The majority of those polled did not agree with the latest pay rise.

They might not know the details of the move; they might not have followed the Government’s rationale; they might not even know who the ministers are. But they were sure on one thing: They did not like the increase.

Envy? Yes and no, I think.

Whatever the psychic-income advocates tell you, few can resist the lure of a million-dollar salary. But to dismiss as mere envy the concerns raised would be dangerous.

There are good reasons for their worry, and it is a good thing there are people in Singapore who do.

The issue goes to the very heart of what Singapore is. Or should be.

What makes Singapore go round? It is money, and yet it is not money.

A higher standard of living is brought about not by more money alone.

Were money enough, Singapore could have opted to turn into a service economy. A casino town. A financial haven. But no, the Republic’s economic strategy has been to nci add mtr value, to create jobs for its people beyond card-dealing and number-crunching.

Of late it has gone one step further, to nci create mtr value, through greater emphasis on research and development.

And money alone won’t bring this about.

As Mr Wong argued in his letter: “If we are to remain competitive, I believe that we have to motivate our young people with values other than money. Otherwise, we will be comparing ourpay constantly with what other nationals are getting, and we will lose our competitive edge.”

He cited the examples of Microsoft founder Bill Gates and SoundBlaster pioneer Sim Wong Hoo, both of whom started out with not much more than enthusiasm and hard work.

Money was the consequence of their endeavours, not the aim. Had it been their immediate quarry, they would probably have chosen more direct routes.

And Singapore? Indeed, if its bottom line is money, only money, we might as well write nationhood off now.

The Republic’s unit labour cost up to 1998 was escalating faster than those of its rivals on the same rungs of the economic ladder. Only by ruthless cost-cutting – including the Central Provident Fund cuts – was it brought down to early-1990s levels.

But with the recent pay increases, you don’t need to be an economist to know that wage pressures will rise again.

The reason is simple: Singapore is small. All the private-sector Joes know former classmate public-sector Jack and his increased pay. And there are only so many capable Joes and Jacks to go around.

Some employers are already bracing themselves for higher wage demands.

How long can such a pay spiral last? Not long, before you need another Committee on Singapore’s Competitiveness, I’m sure.

So if pay is not the answer, what is?

Simple: Income of another sort.

In the old days, long before I learnt about the concept of psychic income, other people were already learning its meaning, first-hand.

These people brought Singapore into being. They entered politics, not because there was money in it, but because there was excitement, adventure, power and the promise of changing history.

There was no monetary income, but there was plenty of psychic income.

Is the era of revolutionary change that threw up people with deep convictions and overpowering motivations over? I’m not so sure about that: Every generation, I believe, throws up its own change agents, people who want to make a difference – their way.

In the 1950s and 1960s, these people gravitated to politics because that was where the action was.

Today, the action is in business and technology: Hence the destination of many of those who quit the Administrative Service recently.

Finian Tan, who joined venture-capital firm Draper Fisher Jurvetson, wanted, in his own words, to be a “player”, not a referee or a coach.

Joe Sim and Cheong Kwok Leong started a dot.com, wanting to “break out of the comfort zone” and “be part of the new economy” – psychic income that makes up for salaries “much less” than what they used to get.

I don’t know Messrs Tan and Cheong personally, but Joe I have met several times, and had the pleasure of giving a lift once.

During that half-hour ride from Pasir Panjang to town, he struck me as someone who, had he been born in an age of political ferment, would have been in the thick of the revolutionary action. He has the zeal of a change agent.

If politics in Singapore today does not attract that sort, I presume it must be because they do not find the particular kind of personal satisfaction and challenge they crave.

If we are to avoid monetary income becoming an unhealthy draw, ways must be found to boost the psychic income in that particular profession.

How? Well, there are probably half a dozen ways, but that, as they say, is another story for another day.

E-mail:leehoong@sph.com.sg.

The lead letter in yesterday’s Straits Times must have caused some PAP politicians to shift uneasily in their seats. In it, a Ms Margo McCutcheon from Kuala Lumpur no less, warned, “Singapore, you’ve got so much to lose. Do you really want that couple in Holland Village jeopardising it all by shouting about democracy?” The venerable McCutcheon was referring to a hellish episode that befell both her husband and herself in Holland Village, where they saw a middle-aged couple handing out pro-democracy brochures and shouting, “Support democracy”.

On account of this letter, Singaporeans reading the Straits Times yesterday might have understood what it was like living behind the iron curtain in the heydays of the Cold War. Communist press apparatchiks would have been so proud.

Invoking the wisdom of her husband, Lady McCutcheon quoted him verbatim – “I’m American and you don’t want what we have. Democracy isn’t about choice. It’s just a fancy word for partisan bickering and gridlocked government.” Like a rookie boxer, McCutcheon followed up with one hook after jab, completely oblivious to the fact that she had exposed her soft underbelly.

Vivian Balakrishnan’s Democracy

Only less than month ago, when asked about the criticism directed at the management of the Youth Olympic Games from opposition politician Chee Soon Juan of the Singapore Democratic Party, Vivian Balakrishnan, the Minister of Community Development, Youth and Sports responded, “In any society there will always be people who disagree, that’s fine. This is a democracy they are entitled to that.”

Lee Yi Shyan’s Democracy

On 3 Sep 2010, in a feature on the East Coast constituency in the Straits Times, Minister of State for Trade and Industry and Manpower and MP for Kampung Chai Chee ward, Lee Yi Shyan remarked that the Workers’ Party had been spotted more frequently in his constituency over the last six months (the Workers’ Party has been consistently active in East Coast for the better part of the last two years). In response, the Minister of State proffered, “Its alright, that’s what democracy is. We allow for other parties to advance their views and policies, to offer alternatives.”

Goh Chok Tong’s Participatory Democracy

Almost 20 years ago, then Prime Minister Goh Chok Tong sought to persuade 81 PAP branches to systematically rally Singaporeans behind the PAP’s goals in the next lap of the country’s development. Specifically, Goh proposed the strengthening of participatory democracy in Singapore. Elaborating, Goh posited that participatory democracy meant that every Singaporean shared the responsibility of making the country better, and that Singaporeans must defend what is right and prevent things from going wrong. Further, Goh stated that participation also meant that every Singaporean had a chance to do something to improve society. Goh, like the majority of Singaporeans would know that democracy is not necessarily the panacea to all the problems of any society, let alone Singapore. But in reaching out to participatory democracy, Goh effectively acknowledged that it was what Singapore needed 20 years ago.

Many readers may assume that the PAP’s on-and-off dance with democracy presents a golden opportunity for opposition members to call them out on double standards, speaking with a forked tongue, cognitive dissonance etc. But it is not my intention to do this. What Vivian, Lee and Goh have shown Singaporeans is that some members of the PAP are acutely aware of the importance of democracy as far as the political and economic health of the nation is concerned.

What remains, as it has for a good 20 years, is for the PAP to move substantively in a more democratic direction. With 82 out of 84 seats in parliament, the PAP is by far, the only political game in town. With the press firmly in its hands, any decision towards a qualitative democracy in the foreseeable future will be made by the men in white. One of the stumbling blocks that will stand in the way of greater democratisation in Singapore are those PAP politicians who directly or indirectly straightjacket the remit of the government-managed mainstream media.

McCutcheon’s letter was very much in step with the level of public discourse on political liberties engendered by the Straits Times since my childhood days. In spite of Goh’s brave foray nearly 20 years ago, no real attempt has been made by the mainstream media to explain what democracy substantively means, both to and for Singapore society. In fact, under the stewardship of Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong, many would argue Singapore’s political development has stagnated at best, and regressed at worst, with modifications to the NCMP and NMP parliamentary schemes for example,  designed to paradoxically benefit the PAP.

Some PAP politicians and senior civil servants employ allusions to democracy to deflect criticism while the state-managed press define it in singularly dark terms, as a binary opposite to PAP white. Blinkered officers in government-linked-companies I have spoken to argue that Singapore’s success since independence has been down to the lack of democracy in Singapore, and as such, the status quo must remain. These individuals cannot comprehend nor conceive of how a substantively democratic, accountable and transparent polity can unlock talent, encourage entrepreneurship, staunch the brain drain and lethargy of the nation’s best and brightest and most importantly, strengthen the Singapore spirit.

If anything, McCutcheon’s letter proved that democracy remains a bad word in Singapore, in spite of remarks by Vivian, Lee and Goh that suggest the very opposite. And if one had to consider which political agents in Singapore are single-handedly undermining the country’s political development, the mainstream media would figure prominently among them. In the guise of a nation-building agenda, the mainstream media has monopolised the national discourse so as to buttress a PAP agenda, not a Singapore agenda.

The Singapore media scene of the 1960s and 1970s was a lot more representative of a free press chiefly because of the wider choice of newspapers available to Singaporeans. Singapore Press Holdings and Mediacorp Press, both majority owned by the government were not the only game in town. There were other – now defunct – papers such as the Eastern Sun, Singapore Herald, Singapore Monitor, Singapore Standard and The New Nation. Even the Chinese press was not the sole domain of the PAP government. What a wide array of newspapers guaranteed was a healthy debate about the direction the country was headed. A free press kept excess in check. And if one paper attempted to represent a partisan interest, you could be certain another paper would present an alternative viewpoint.

Fast forward a couple of decades and in the aftermath of the passage of the Newspapers and Printing Presses Act 1974: The Straits Times puts out and selectively omits information so as to benefit the ruling party.

A simple example will make out the preceding point. Every now and then, more so in the run up to every election, Singaporeans are reminded through the Straits Times how Chee Soon Juan and Chiam See Tong had a “tussle” over leadership of the Singapore Democratic Party in the early 1990s, ostensibly to dissuade Singaporeans from voting opposition.

But how many remember the Straits Times reminding Singaporeans of PAP MPs being hauled up to account for their misdemeanours and character deficiencies? Read: Hong Kah GRC PAP MP and lawyer Ahmad Khalis Abdul Ghani in 2005 for “grossly improper” professional conduct and Jalan Besar GRC PAP MP Mr Choo Wee Khiang (also infamously known for remarking that Little India was “too dark” on weekends) in 1999 for cheating? Or of a PAP Minister of National Development who committed suicide in the mid-1980s over allegations of corruption while in office?

In fairness to the Straits Times there have been times, albeit very few and far between, where it has held its ground against select PAP politicians, highlighting its capacity to play a genuine nation-building role. In the immediate aftermath of the Association of Women for Action and Research (AWARE) saga in 2009, Deputy Prime Minister Wong Kan Seng chided the paper for its “breathless coverage” and insinuating that it report on issues dispassionately and impartially in future, before concluding that the AWARE saga was not the most important challenge facing Singapore.

Wong’s intervention was perhaps the best characterisation of the PAP towards the mainstream media. Intervene. Put out the PAP message. Move on.

If the Straits Times had not engaged in thorough and even crusading reportage of the AWARE saga, would Singaporeans have known that a certain self-described “feminist mentor” was the master puppeteer behind the coup d’etat in AWARE? And would Singaporeans have known of a certain pastor who could have torn the fabric of a secular Singapore and in doing so, irreparably damaged the reputation of Singaporean Christians?

While democracy encompasses a number of characteristics that can vary in space and time, a key constant in any substantive democracy are freedom and/or access to information. Democracy is not about form, garnishing, dodging criticism and going to the polls once every five years. It is much more than that. At a deep-rooted level, it is about citizenship and national values that are cherished by all citizens, regardless of political affiliation, and a citizenry taking ownership of the political process.

Going forward, if the Straits Times finds it uncontroversial to host a letter written by the Margo McCutcheons of the world in the name of hosting views from every segment of society (including Kuala Lumpur society [McCutcheon signed off her letter from Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia]), it can be expected to have no qualms substantiating Goh’s stillborn participatory democracy or Vivian and Lee’s apparently expedient one. One might hazard even PAP politicians will admit that dealing with the question of substantive and qualitative democracy is the only way to engender a united, inclusive and equitable Singapore in the years to come.

Useful Links:

Margo McCutcheon: No say? Its simply not true, she says  – http://www.straitstimes.com/STForum/Story/STIStory_579519.html

Asiaone: YOG – A giant leap for small Singapore – http://news.asiaone.com/News/Latest%2BNews/Sports/Story/A1Story20100812-231747.html

Channel News Asia Online poll (since removed from Channel News Asia’s website) question “Will you be watching any Youth Olympic Games competition?” – http://www.temasekreview.com/2010/07/29/cna-poll-73-percent-of-singaporeans-not-interested-in-yog/

NCCS: Churches should stay out of AWARE saga – http://www.sgpolitics.net/?p=2862

Catherine Lim: Time to do some crystal ball gazing – http://catherinelim.sg/2004/01/13/time-to-do-some-crystal-ball-gazing/

Tan Tarn How on AWARE saga – newshub.nus.edu.sg/news/0912/PDF/FAIR-st-4Dec-pB12.pdf

1. The Singapore government has banned this video (online since late last year), with the ban set to take effect from 14 July 2010 (see article appended below – Film ‘Dr Lim Hock Siew’ prohibited from July 14). How the government plans to police this ban is beyond me.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dqhr4wxUFws

2. The decision to ban this clip, more than 8 months after it was first released is strikingly odd, especially if you consider how the government-managed mainstream media covered Dr Lim Hock Siew early this year (see article appended below – Still dreaming of a socialist Singapore dated 19 Feb 2010). In fact, one writer wrote in to the Straits Times (see article appended below – An example for aspiring politicians dated 24 Feb 2010) after reading the article in absolute praise of Dr Lim, “…politicians of Dr Lim’s calibre are rare, and it behooves us to seek them out to help move the nation forward.”

3. In Janadas Devan’s (current op-ed / review editor of the government-managed Straits Times) commentary (see article appended below – Let others voices add to Singapore Story dated 28 Jul 2007), the son of former President Devan Nair ends his piece asking readers to “….tell stories, for it is the only way we can take possession of ourselves.”

4. My interim assessment is that the current PAP government is in a bind. A fly on the walls of cabinet may well conclude that it is a divided party, a view that has been bandied about for years. The Home Affairs and Law ministries are helmed by individuals who I opine are conservative and close-minded, and in my opinion of course, are not the best individuals to lead Singapore as we traverse the 21st century. Then there are others, who I am sure were convinced they could change the system incrementally from the inside like Community Development Youth and Sports Minister Vivian Balakrishnan who is quoted by Susan Long (see article appended below – What price politics dated 1 Feb 2002) ,

“Reflecting on the politicians he admires for their strength of character and ability to sacrifice for their beliefs, (Vivian) singles out former Barisan Sosialis stalwart Dr Lim Hock Siew, who spent 20 years in detention.”

5. Likewise there are others, bright and of character, like Finance Minister Tharman Shanmugaratnam, who allegedly said this of the 22 individuals who were labelled as Marxists and detained without trial under the PAP from 1987 (See The Online Citizen commentary – Was it a Red or White conspiracy? See http://theonlinecitizen.com/2009/05/was-it-a-red-or-white-conspiracy/ )

“Although I had no access to state intelligence, from what I knew of them, most were social activists but not out to subvert the system ”

(P.S. – I have just finished reading the memoirs of one Teo Soh Lung, one of those incarcerated from 1987. This book I understand is not banned in Singapore and is on sale at Books Kinokuniya at Takashimaya.
Please visit, if interested – http://fn8org.wordpress.com/2010/06/21/hello-world/ )

6. A corollary view, one that has also been bandied about, so I lay no claim to originality, is that the old guard (and their anointed flunkies) in the ruling PAP, like the Communist Party in China, are actually tightening up on substantive political and social freedoms. The pressure of genuine and substantive political reform is being thrust upon them and they are increasingly uncomfortable at this prospect – since they have traditionally been the ones in charge. Whatever the explanation may be, I opine that the structural problems that exist within the ruling PAP have begun to stymie Singapore’s growth and development as a nation. I foresee the government (I am rather hesitant at using the word government because that includes the executive (civil service) and judiciary too. We have been blessed with honest public servants although some in the elite Administrative Service do need to be reminded of their political neutrality) will clamp down even harder in future, with honest civil servants called upon to do the old guard’s biding. The more liberal factions of the PAP (and some good friends of mine who are pro-PAP, and in some cases, for good reason) probably think nature, i.e. the death and increasing irrelevance of the old guard, will resolve this structural dilemma. I am not so sanguine. The empire will continue to strike back. With finesse and sophistication? Lim Hock Siew may not think so.

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Film “Dr Lim Hock Siew” prohibited from July 14
204 words
12 July 2010
05:45 PM
Channel NewsAsia
CNEWAS
English
(c) 2010 MediaCorp News Pte Ltd. All Rights Reserved

SINGAPORE : The film “Dr Lim Hock Siew” will be prohibited in Singapore with effect from July 14 under the Films Act.

It was submitted by Martyn See Tong Ming to the Board of Film Censors for classification.

The Ministry of Information, Communications and the Arts said the film is against public interest, and possession and distribution of it is an offence.

The film has also not been granted a certificate for its exhibition.

The ministry said the film gives a distorted and misleading portrayal of Dr Lim’s arrests and detention under the Internal Security Act (ISA) in 1963.

It added that the government “will not allow individuals who have posed a security threat to Singapore’s interests in the past, to use media platforms such as films to make baseless accusations against the authorities, give a false portrayal of their previous activities in order to exculpate their guilt, and undermine public confidence in the government in the process.”

Anyone found in possession of or distributing the film, if convicted, will be liable to a fine not exceeding S$10,000 or a jail term of not more than 2 years, or both.

CNA/al

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Prime News
Ban on video recording of Lim Hock Siew speech
Cassandra Chew
451 words
13 July 2010
Straits Times <javascript:void(0)>
STIMES
English
(c) 2010 Singapore Press Holdings Limited
THE Government has banned a video recording of a speech made by former political detainee Lim Hock Siew, on the grounds that it is against public interest.

The video by filmmaker Martyn See, 41, gives a ‘distorted and misleading portrayal’ of Dr Lim’s detention under the Internal Security Act, said the Ministry of Information, Communications and the Arts (Mica) in a statement yesterday.

Mica added: ‘The Singapore Government will not allow individuals who have posed a security threat to Singapore’s interests in the past to use media platforms such as films to make baseless accusations against the authorities, give a false portrayal of their previous activities in order to exculpate their guilt, and undermine public confidence in the Government in the process.’

The prohibition, which takes effect tomorrow, makes it an offence for anyone to distribute the video, entitled Dr Lim Hock Siew, or possess a copy of it.

Anyone who commits the offence can be fined up to $10,000, or jailed up to two years, or both.

Mr See told The Straits Times yesterday that the Media Development Authority had instructed him, in a letter, to surrender all copies of his video and remove any digital versions that are online.

The 22-minute video is available on video-sharing website YouTube <javascript:void(0);> and on his blog. It shows Dr Lim, 79, giving a speech last November at a book launch where he recounted his experiences as a political detainee.

He was arrested in 1963 under Operation Cold Store, a massive security sweep that put more than 100 communists and suspected communists behind bars, and detained without trial until 1982.

Mr See recorded the speech and uploaded the film to YouTube <javascript:void(0);> the next day.

In February, he submitted it to the Board of Film Censors for classification, ‘because the law says so’, he said.

He said he had not expected the ban as the law on political films was relaxed last year.

‘The amendments to Section 33 of the Films Act now allow for live recordings of an event held according to the law. The film Dr Lim Hock Siew fits that bill, and therefore I was confident it would not be illegal,’ he added.

The recording, however, was classified under Section 35(1) of the Films Act, which allows for the banning of any film that is contrary to public interest.

Only one other film has been prohibited under this category, in 2007. It was also by Mr See.

The film, called Zahari’s 17 Years, was a 50-minute interview with another former political detainee, Said Zahari. Mr See directed, shot and edited it.

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ST Forum
An example for aspiring politicians
226 words
24 February 2010
Straits Times
STIMES
English
(c) 2010 Singapore Press Holdings Limited

I WAS moved by Dr Lim Hock Siew’s steely resolve to stand by his convictions and ideals, even after his ordeal against his political rivals, as reported in last Friday’s feature, ‘Still dreaming of a socialist Singapore’.

Today’s aspiring politicians can learn much from his story in their bid for public office.

Our young scholarship holders who have dreams of entering Parliament will do well to emulate Dr Lim’s admirable qualities. He is sincere, unflappable, principled and courageous; he provides a human face to the cold facade of political rivalry.

Men and women with such qualities should be accorded due respect by friends and foes alike.

Politicians of Dr Lim’s calibre are rare, and it behooves us to seek them out to help move the nation forward.

Their presence in all parties, and on both benches in Parliament, makes for healthier and more meaningful exchanges and debates, all to the good of Singapore.

Never let it be said that only one party has a monopoly on the best and brightest.

We have come a long way from the volatile 1960s. In future elections, I hope good sense prevails and that politicians of all stripes will set out to win the hearts and minds of the electorate with verve, fairness and respectability.

Lee Seck Kay

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Insight
Still dreaming of a socialist Singapore
Cai Haoxiang
2840 words
19 February 2010
Straits Times <javascript:void(0)>
STIMES
English
(c) 2010 Singapore Press Holdings Limited

From student activist and PAP campaigner to Barisan Sosialis leader and second longest-held political detainee, Dr Lim Hock Siew’s story mirrors Singapore’s tumultuous history. Now 79, he bares his thoughts and feelings about his political past.

IT IS a sweltering day as you walk by the row of repainted shophouses along Balestier Road.

As you push open the glass doors and duck inside for a welcome draught of air-conditioning, you meet a group of elderly patients waiting expectantly to see their family doctor.

The name on the door plate of his office may not ring a bell for the young but to older Singaporeans, it jumps right out of Singapore’s turbulent political history: Dr Lim Hock Siew.

Enter his simply furnished room, and you see him at a desk stacked with books, stationery and newspapers. An eye chart is pasted on a glass cabinet displaying photos of him as a dashing young man.

The 79-year-old doctor, in his white long-sleeved shirt, greets you with a soft, occasionally wheezing, yet otherwise firm voice. He is not in the best of health, having suffered kidney failure last year and taken a six-month break to recuperate.

As he is undergoing dialysis three times a week, he would have preferred to extend his break except that his clinic partner, Dr Mohd Abu Bakar, 76, was overwhelmed by the patient load.

So he returned to half-day work last month, seeing around 30 patients every morning, and plans to do so as long as his health permits. ‘It’s kind of an ethical obligation to look after them, and I can keep myself mentally occupied,’ he says.

The name of his clinic harks back to his socialist days as a political activist, first with the People’s Action Party (PAP) and then with its arch rival, Barisan Sosialis. It is called Rakyat, which means ‘people’ in Malay. It was set up by Dr Lim and fellow Barisan Sosialis leader Dr Poh Soo Kai in 1961.

Its consultation fees are no different from other clinics’ – $20 to $30. But Dr Lim charges a reduced rate for poorer patients and gives free treatment to the neediest. ‘I don’t deny help to those who need it,’ he says.

Dr Lim’s sense of compassion and empathy for the poor is well known. At a time when the unprofessional and unethical practices of some doctors are hogging the headlines, the mere mention of Dr Lim’s name evokes hushed respect among his peers.

Even pro-PAP Singaporeans who would be horrified by the prospect of a Barisan Sosialis government admit to having a grudging admiration for Dr Lim as a man who has the courage of his convictions.

Dr Vivian Balakrishnan, Minister for Community Development, Youth and Sports, once singled out Dr Lim as a politician he admired for his strength of character and ability to sacrifice for his beliefs.

Like many of his former leftist colleagues, Dr Lim feels compelled to give his side of the story before time runs out.

In recent years, a cottage industry has sprung up providing alternative histories of Singapore. Books included memoirs by former communist underground leader Fang Chuang Pi, former Barisan Sosialis leader Fong Swee Suan and former Parti Rakyat Singapura leader Said Zahari. Just three months ago, the Fajar Generation, a book on the University Socialist Club (USC) of the then-University of Malaya, was launched.

In a nutshell, Dr Lim’s is a story of how an idealistic student activist joined and campaigned for the PAP in the 1950s and then fought against the ruling party in the 1960s and paid a very heavy price for his beliefs and convictions.

In 1963, he was arrested under Operation Cold Store and detained without trial for nearly 20 years before he was released in 1982.

A Home Affairs Ministry statement on his release had said that he was arrested under the Internal Security Act for his involvement in Communist United Front (CUF) activities.

Dr Lim refused to agree to any conditions that would have granted him early release and ended up in the record book as the second longest-held political prisoner after his leftist colleague Chia Thye Poh, who served 23 years.

Today, 28 years after his release, he still dreams of a socialist Singapore in which there is no exploitation of workers and the oppressed.

Political awakening

BORN in 1931 to a poor family, Dr Lim spent the 1942-45 war years helping his father sell fish in the Kandang Kerbau market. Both his parents were illiterate, but they encouraged their 10 children to study.

He was the only English-educated child in his family. As the top boy in Rangoon Road Primary School, he gained entry to Raffles Institution (RI) in 1946.

It was in RI that he picked up a book by the first prime minister of India Jawaharlal Nehru and became inspired by his socialist ideals.

Going on to study medicine at the then-University of Malaya here, Dr Lim lapped up the works of philosopher Karl Marx and economist Adam Smith, and books on the British Labour Party and Mao Zedong’s communist struggle in China. His political awakening was heightened by the anti-colonial struggles raging around the world.

As he recalls, most of the university students then were indifferent to politics. They were afraid of being arrested and preferred to pursue degrees and jobs.

As one of the best and brightest of his generation, he says he felt a deep, patriotic obligation to do something for Singapore and its people in the struggle against the British colonialists ruling Singapore.

He plunged into campus activism, becoming a founding member of the anti-colonial USC, which was formed in 1953.

In 1953, Dr Lim met the young Cambridge-educated lawyer Lee Kuan Yew, who was helping to defend eight USC students charged by the British for sedition because of an article in the USC’s journal, Fajar.

They won the case and Mr Lee was acclaimed as their champion. The USC rallied behind him and his associates when they set up the PAP several months after the sedition trial.

Noting that the party’s original Constitution showed every mark of a socialist, anti-colonial party, Dr Lim recalls that the USC members went around persuading various groups to support the PAP. The 1955 elections saw the 24-year-old Dr Lim stumping for PAP at mass rallies.

PAP was then identified with the working class and Chinese-speaking masses. But the facade of unity maintained by the motley crew of English-educated intellectuals, Chinese-educated socialists, professionals and trade unionists could not last.

The ideological differences began to surface. One episode in 1957 that stuck in Dr Lim’s memory was the plot by a group of radical unionists within the party to oust PAP strongman Ong Eng Guan and several others from the PAP leadership. They opposed Mr Ong as they viewed him as anti-left and an opportunist.

He felt then that the move was ‘most unwise’ as it would create party disunity and provoke a crackdown by the colonial government.

As he recollects, he and several USC members tracked down three of the prime movers – Mr Chen Say Jame, Mr Goh Boon Toh and Mr Tan Chong Kin – and sought to dissuade them. They failed. Dr Lim believes that what he did then probably aroused Mr Lee’s suspicions that he was in cahoots with the leftists.

The central executive committee (CEC) elections resulted in a deadlock with six seats going to the Lee group and the other six going to the leftists. Shocked by the humiliating defeat of his associates, Mr Lee refused to take office. Dr Lim says he tried to persuade him to do so – to no avail.

As it turned out, five leftist CEC members were arrested by the Lim Yew Hock government in an anti-communist operation – and Mr Lee and company were able to regain control of the party.

In 1958, they introduced a ‘cadre’ system in which only appointed members could vote for the CEC. This marked the beginning of the leftists’ disillusionment with Mr Lee, says Dr Lim.

Break over merger

WHEN the 1959 elections came around, Dr Lim says he and Dr Poh offered themselves ‘in good faith’ as PAP candidates. The answer was negative. ‘He did not trust us,’ says Dr Lim, referring to Mr Lee.

After the historic elections which swept the PAP to power for the first time, Dr Lim discovered that his party membership was not renewed.

From the sidelines, the government doctor witnessed the increasing acrimony between Mr Lee’s group and the leftists which was to lead to what is called the Big Split of 1961.

The two factions were locked in a monumental struggle over the issues of merger with Malaya, Chinese education and the continuing detention of students and unionists.

Racked by dissension, the PAP was on the brink of collapse after losing two by-elections in Anson and Hong Lim in 1961.

Concerned over the leftist challenge within his party, Mr Lee moved a motion of confidence in the 51-seat legislative assembly. The PAP survived when 27 voted aye but 13 dissident assemblymen abstained.

Expelled from the party, the dissidents formed Barisan Sosialis with other defectors from the PAP in August 1961. The party was led by Mr Lim Chin Siong.

It was at this juncture that Dr Lim joined the new party. He had to give up a scholarship for further study and quit the civil service.

The Barisan Sosialis then, he recalls, was a very formidable organisation filled with thousands of dedicated people and ‘scores upon scores of university graduates’, ready to form an alternative government.

As a CEC member, Dr Lim helped to run a ‘brain trust’ which consulted a group of more than 50 graduates from the then-Nanyang University and University of Malaya and prepared position papers.

‘We didn’t have a lack of talent. We had more talent than we wanted,’ he says.

In his recollection, the biggest issue that divided PAP and Barisan was merger with Malaya to form Malaysia.

Fearing that Singapore would fall to the communists, Malayan Prime Minister Tunku Abdul Rahman had proposed on May 27, 1961 that Singapore, Sabah, Sarawak and Brunei merge with Malaya to form the federation of Malaysia.

Singapore would have 15 seats in the federal house of representatives, less than what it was entitled to on the basis of population ratios, but a debatable trade-off for Singapore’s exclusive autonomy over labour and education.

Although the leftists were committed to the ultimate goal of unification between the peninsula and the island, they argued that these terms for merger would make Singaporeans ‘second-class citizens’.

The main sticking point, as Dr Lim points out, was that there were ‘two sets of citizenship: one for Malaysians and one for Singaporeans. Singaporean citizens could not participate in Malaysian politics, much less be proportionally represented in the federation’.

The battle between both parties reached its culmination during the referendum on Sept 1, 1962, in which the PAP Government cleverly devised three alternatives for merger on varying terms with no option to say no.

PAP won by a large margin, with 71 per cent of votes in favour of its ‘Alternative A’ against just over 25 per cent who cast blank votes, which the Barisan called for to protest against the ‘sham referendum’.

Imprisonment

THEN came the big crackdown. On Feb 2, 1963, more than 100 leftists and unionists were arrested in a massive security exercise known as Operation Cold Store, aimed at putting communists and suspected communists out of circulation.

On the mass arrests which changed the power balance in Singapore irrevocably, Dr Lim reflects: ‘We lost not to Lee but to the British, who crushed the leftists for strategic, not security reasons.’

When he speaks about his nearly 20 years in detention, there is an edge to his otherwise calm voice.

Year after year, he recounts, attempts were made to break the spirit of prisoners through solitary confinement and interrogations, to make them confess their involvement in communist activities.

Dr Lim became a counsellor of sorts to the prisoners, encouraging them to talk about the physical and psychological abuse they faced during their interrogations. Some broke down in tears as they relived their experiences.

In March 1972, Dr Lim released a statement about his detention and his experience in being taken to the Internal Security Department (ISD) headquarters on Robinson Road two months earlier. He had insisted on being released, saying that ‘history had vindicated my stand’ that the 1963 merger would not work.

He says that ISD officers wanted him to issue a public statement that he was prepared to give up politics and devote his time to medical practice, and to express support for parliamentary democracy.

Dr Lim demanded to be released unconditionally, saying that he should not need to give up politics if there was parliamentary democracy.

He says that he was asked to ‘concede something’ so that his long detention could be justified. He replied that he was not interested in ‘saving Mr Lee’s face’, and would not issue any statement to condemn his past political activities, which he said were ‘legitimate and proper’.

When asked for the Government’s response, a Ministry of Home Affairs spokesman says: ‘Contrary to Lim Hock Siew’s claims that he was an opposition politician carrying out ‘legitimate and proper’ activities through the democratic process, Dr Lim was in fact a prominent Communist United Front leader who, along with other CUF leaders, had planned and organised pro-communist activities in support of the Communist Party of Malaya, which employed terror and violence in their attempt to overthrow the elected governments of Singapore and Malaysia.’

In 1978, Dr Lim was released from detention and placed in Pulau Tekong under certain restrictions. A government statement had described him as a CUF member who refused to give a written undertaking that he would not be involved in communist activities and renounce the use of force to change government.

Dr Lim’s view was that since he had never advocated violence, he should not have to renounce it. ‘It’s like making me sign a statement that I would not beat my wife,’ he says.

He spent four years on Pulau Tekong before it became an army training area. There, he read medical books and became the only doctor for the few thousand villagers on the island. In appreciation, grateful villagers would ply him and his wife with durians, prawns and fish.

Release

FINALLY, on Sept 6, 1982, the Government allowed him to live on Singapore island, on the understanding that he would concentrate on his medical practice and abide by various conditions.

Asked how he coped with the long incarceration, he puts it down to an unshakeable conviction that his political stance is right.

‘We were the leaders of the main opposition party, supported by the workers in Singapore, and we cannot betray our supporters. So we stuck to the bitter end. It’s a matter of intellectual integrity.’

Would he shake hands with Mr Lee? His reply: ‘It is for the oppressed to be magnanimous, not the oppressor. I’ll forgive him and shake hands with him if he admits to his error and apologises to me and my wife.’

Dr Lim’s wife Beatrice Chen, who is a nephrologist or kidney specialist, helps to treat her husband. She declines to be interviewed as she shuns publicity.

They met in 1958 when they were working together at the Singapore General Hospital, and married in 1961.

Dr Lim was detained two years later. For the next 15 years, they saw each other for half an hour each week, separated by a glass panel, and spoke by telephone.

‘The fact that we can see each other is a relief,’ he says. ‘Our common struggle was a unifying force. We understood each other. She kept on encouraging me, giving me moral support…it was very hard for her. She’s a great woman.’

The couple have one son, who is now working in the National University of Singapore. ‘He was five months old when I was arrested. When I came out, my wife was in menopause. I missed the joy of bringing up my own son.’

When Dr Lim is not seeing patients, he catches up on current affairs, surfs the Internet, and reads political philosophy – currently, Bertrand Russell’s A History Of Western Philosophy. He also paints as a hobby.

Step into his condominium home off Mountbatten Road, and you will be greeted by a visual feast of paintings – of scenery, flowers and women – all strictly non-political.

But one has a Chinese couplet which reads: Befriend a thousand books, and have the spine to stand by your beliefs.

____________________

Insight
Let other voices add to Singapore Story
Janadas Devan, Senior Writer
1214 words
28 July 2007
Straits Times
STIMES
English
(c) 2007 Singapore Press Holdings Limited
‘FOR God’s sake, let us sit upon the ground / And tell sad stories of the death of kings.’

So says Shakespeare’s Richard II. He gets rather grisly after that. ‘How some have been deposed,’ he goes on to say, ‘some slain in war, / Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed; / Some poisoned by their wives, some sleeping killed.’

So why would Richard II want to hear such tales? Well, in part, because he knows they prophesy his own: ‘For within the hollow crown / That rounds the mortal temples of a king / Keeps Death his court.’

In the final analysis, that is why we tell stories, including histories. ‘Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it,’ warned George Santayana. Actually, even those who do remember the past, like Richard II, can be condemned to repeat it. But since we cannot be human without memory, even that – the saddest of tales, the inescapability of tragedy, of death – is worth hearing.

We tell stories because we are human. We tell stories because there is no other way to remember ourselves. We tell stories so as to understand ourselves, our societies, our species. We tell stories to piece together past, present and future. We tell stories to stave off death. We tell stories.

THAT was one way of putting it – a rather portentous, though not irrelevant, preliminary to some mundane reflections on the writing and teaching of history in Singapore.

Firstly, the writing of it: Why should it be done? A good place to begin would be that famous Santayana quote. To understand what the philosopher was getting at, one must read his warning in its context. Santayana wrote in The Life Of Reason:

‘Progress, far from consisting in change, depends on retentiveness. When change is absolute there remains no being to improve and no direction is set for possible improvement: and when experience is not retained, as among savages, infancy is perpetual. Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it. In the first stage of life the mind is frivolous and easily distracted, it misses progress by failing in consecutiveness and persistence. This is the condition of children and barbarians, in which instinct has learnt nothing from experience.’

That applies especially to new countries. Singaporeans must have a history so as to avoid a perpetual infancy. It would be impossible to grasp our progress without memory. We cannot even begin to have a conversation about how we might move forward without knowing how we got here. A people without history are like ‘barbarians’, with instincts uninformed by experience. That is what Santayana meant when he said that ‘those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it’. They live in a perpetual present – now, now, now, ad infinitum – incapable of foresight because without hindsight, and thus condemned to a perpetual infancy. Why must we write and read our history? It is quite simple actually – to grow up!

Secondly, there is no such thing as a history without interpretation. Every report of ‘historical facts’ is ‘shot through and through with theoretical interpretation’, as another philosopher, A.N. Whitehead, put it. The notion of a history without interpretation ‘can only occur to minds… unable to divine their own unspoken limitations’.

For this reason, we should welcome varieties of historical accounts. It is good news that former Members of Parliament are writing their autobiographies. An account of Singapore without Mr Lee Kuan Yew would be like a play without a protagonist. An account without all the other players, big and small, who swelled Singapore’s progress, would be like a protagonist without a play.

Nor should we forget the protagonist had opponents. A slew of memoirs by senior leaders of the Malayan Communist Party have appeared recently – among them Mr Chin Peng, Mr Eu Chooi Yip and Mr Fang Chuang Pi (‘the Plen’). Senior figures associated with the Singapore left wing also have either written their memoirs or plan to do so – among others, Mr Samad Ismail, Mr Fong Swee Suan, Mr Said Zahari and Dr Lim Hock Siew. Each has to be a part of the main, a piece of the Singapore story.

Nor should we forget the play had an audience. There was a wonderful letter recently in The Straits Times Online Forum from Mr Tan Lye Huat. He spoke of his experiences growing up in Kampung Melaka and of how Malays and Chinese lived in peace there through some horrendous times. We need more such histories from the ground. ST Forum editor, Mr Kong Soon Wah, plans to start a new online feature – Down Memory Lane – to accommodate such accounts.

Thirdly, the notion that there can be ‘alternative histories’ is ridiculous. Everyone is entitled to his own opinions, as the late US senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan said once, but no one is entitled to his own facts.

Certainly, at any one point, history is bound to be a contested affair. Accounts will contradict, assumptions will differ, interpretations will clash. But to conclude from that that there must be different histories, existing forever in parallel universes that never converge, is absurd.

No historian, even one writing a self-styled ‘alternative history’, can write without a commitment to the truth. That ‘truth’ must necessarily be provisional at any one point, but historians cannot divest themselves of their commitment to it.

‘This is so, isn’t it?’ every historian or memoirist implicitly has to ask, pointing at the facts. A ‘Yes, but…’ has to be the desired response, with each ‘but’ leading to amendations and adjustments. A singular ‘Singapore Story’ may never be achieved, but one cannot not want to achieve it.

Fourthly, we will arrive sooner at a closer approximation to that singular Story if historians can gain ready access to more facts. Singapore should consider some version of the British 30-year rule in releasing official government documents.

Given the neighbourhood, it may not be possible for a Singapore 30-year rule to be applied as capaciously as the British one. The history of Singapore’s relations with its neighbours – even of events 40 years ago – can still be a matter of acute current controversy.

That said, there are vast areas of public policy – finance, economy, housing, labour, health, education – where official documents, including Cabinet papers, can be safely released. The most incredible stories about Singapore – the whys and hows of public policy – cannot be fully told without this material.

Finally, if we want our children to like history, we should get rid of the textbooks. They are worse than useless; they damage the imagination.

There is a reason certain historical accounts are so riveting even decades after their first appearance – the first volume of Mr Lee’s memoirs, say, or Jawaharlal Nehru’s Discovery Of India; Barbara Tuchman’s Guns Of August or H.G. Wells’ Outline Of History. They were written by excellent story-tellers. Get good story-tellers to write for our children.

Let us sit upon the ground and tell stories – of defeat and triumph, of tragedy and glory, of sadness and happiness. Tell stories, for it is the only way we can take possession of ourselves.

janadas@sph.com.sg

_____________________

What price politics?
By Susan Long.
1885 words
1 February 2002
Straits Times <javascript:void(0)>
STIMES
English
(c) 2002 Singapore Press Holdings Limited

Since he joined the Government, questions have continued to rage in Dr Vivian Balakrishnan’s mind. What price will he pay? Will he have to make any compromises? The Minister of State (National Development), who used to champion free speech, egalitarianism, and checks and balances on power, explains why fitting in has been a life-long worry for him.

EVEN when Dr Vivian Balakrishnan smiles, his brow appears furrowed.

He seems perpetually lost in thought and, more often than not, emotionally-overwrought. Every so often he frets over something, such as whether he is a ‘good enough’ father, ‘deserves’ his success in medicine or can ‘pay the price’ of his new political office.

But just when he gets irretrievably bleak and morose, the clouds dissipate just as swiftly and he bursts forth with a megawatt grin or an amusing anecdote. Then all becomes sunny and light again, at least for a while.

Indeed, his body language speaks volumes during the hour-long interview at his Maxwell Road office. Every now and then, the eye specialist-turned-Minister of State (National Development) clutches his knee to his chest and rocks himself back and forth, while dissecting each question like a surgeon.

‘I’m my own harshest critic,’ he expels suddenly, his eyes fixed somewhere in the distance, without addressing anyone in particular.

‘I kept asking myself, why am I doing this? Am I sure it’s for the right reasons? Am I sure I am willing to pay the price? Am I sure I won’t compromise?

‘I had to resolve all these in my mind.’

There is nothing flippant at all about the 40-year-old former chief executive officer of Singapore General Hospital.

As a vocal opponent of the People’s Action Party most of his adult life, he had locked horns with the Government over issues ranging from the social divisiveness of ethnic self-help groups to the use of Housing Board flat upgrading as an election carrot.

Fitting in has been a life-long worry of his, he lets on. It plagued him especially when a ‘very persuasive’ Prime Minister Goh Chok Tong called him up last year to enlist him as a PAP candidate.

Then began an elaborate courtship which also involved Senior Minister Lee Kuan Yew and Deputy Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong, who, he says, ‘patiently addressed’ all his reservations about entering politics.

‘I was very worried because I’ve had my fair share of public disagreements with the Government. I wasn’t sure if I would fit, ‘ recalls the long-time champion of free speech, egalitarianism, and checks and balances on power.

In the end, he says he was convinced that the party was not looking to make him compromise or lose his integrity.

Still, it took him eight months of ‘intense soul-searching’ and countless ‘sleepless nights’ before he decided to stand under the lightning and circle banner in the last General Election. Most of it was spent, in his characteristic fashion, vexing over whether he was worthy of the calling.

Reflecting on the politicians he admires for their strength of character and ability to sacrifice for their beliefs, he singles out former Barisan Sosialis stalwart Dr Lim Hock Siew, who spent 20 years in detention.

‘So I look at this guy, rightly or wrongly, this is a politician. He has paid the price for it. Am I capable of paying that kind of price?

‘Actually, you’ll never know untilyou are called to pay the price,’ he says, still looking tormented.

So, one month into his new job, has he resolved all his issues yet?

He broods: ‘I’d be lying if I told you I don’t still nurse some anxieties that I’m not the right person for the role. I am leaving a comfort zone, medicine, which I’ve spent more than 20 years in… Trading it in for something uncertain carries its fair share of risks.’

What about all the talk that he bartered for a government position before he agreed to run in the election?

‘If I entered politics to advance my career and compromised myself to achieve that, I wouldn’t be able to look at myself in the mirror,’ he says.

He knows there is talk that he has sold out.

‘If you go on the Internet, people say I’m a turncoat and traitor,’ he says solemnly. ‘My friends are worried that I will compromise or pay a penalty for not being able to compromise… They have warned me this is a difficult road.

‘Like I said, you can’t win them all, let the mainstream judge me on my own merits.’

Then, with a characteristic flash of defiance, he adds fiercely: ‘I refuse to be stereotyped as a rebel or a liberal. I don’t believe in labels and I refuse to be constrained by labels. I will call a spade a spade.

‘If that makes me ultra right-wing or a liberal, so be it. I am not going to take a position for the sake of it. I’m going to say and do what is right.’

But what about the general disappointment that the most critical and independent minds among the new PAP candidates have all been whisked straight into office, where their task will be to defend and explain policy, instead of raising divergent views and enlivening parliamentary debate?

‘You have to ask yourself: Why raise hell at the end of the day? Will it achieve a greater good?’ he says.

‘If, at the end of the day, I’m in a position to say what I believe and make a difference quietly, this may also be a good thing.’

Then, in a smaller voice, he makes this appeal: ‘Rest assured, I’m still the same person, my values have not changed.’

A WHISPER of a smile tugs at his normally terse countenance when he talks about how his parents fell in love while they were both teaching at Bukit Panjang Primary School in the early 1950s.

His Indian father and Chinese mother had to confront the pressures of a multi-racial relationship head-on and wed only years later, in 1960. He was the eldest of their five children, all born in quick succession.

Since his youth, he learnt to exert leadership – from having to organise his siblings to policing their Monopoly games.

For the most part, the Anglo-Chinese School student was a ‘quiet, good kid’. However, he remembers long arguments with his father – not about how late he could stay out, but about the state of the world and government policies.

The champion debater says his father, a man who was ‘not embarrassed to enunciate his views honestly and bluntly’, imbued him with ‘the ability to think, argue and ask why something is not the way it should be’.

As a child of mixed parentage, growing up ‘looking more Indian some of the time and more Chinese at others’, he spent his teen years trying to resolve his ‘Who am I’ identity crisis.

It was the PAP, he says, which finally helped him reconcile his identity through the Singaporean Singapore policy it espoused in the 1960s, which was that all races should consider themselves, first and foremost, Singaporean.

At National Junior College, he mucked around, played hockey, failed at least one subject in his first year, but did well enough at the eleventh hour to clinch the President’s Scholarship in 1980.

He chose to study medicine at the National University of Singapore (NUS) to fulfil his mother’s dream, and grew to like it.

It was, he says, a humbling experience. He encountered many super-achievers who were ‘smarter than you, willing and able to work harder than you’.

Midway through, however, he decided not to predicate his happiness on academic grades and made a conscious decision to just ‘do well enough’.

The result: he had lots of spare time, which he used to run for president of the NUS Students’ Union, and headed it from 1981 to 1983. He even started dating his wife, Joy, about three months before his final medical examinations.

‘It was a happily distracted time,’ he says, his smile drifting back again.

After serving as a medical officer in the Singapore Armed Forces, he progressed on to post-graduate specialist training in ophthalmology and was admitted, in 1991, as a Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons in Edinburgh.

He lectured at the NUS ophthalmology department for a few years before leaving to work at Moorfields Eye Hospital in London in 1993. He returned two years later as a senior registrar at the National University Hospital.

In 1999, he was appointed medical director of the Singapore National Eye Centre and, a year later, chief executive officer of Singapore General Hospital (SGH).

To relax, he says he assembles computers. He also runs – but mostly just before his individual physical proficiency test. He and Joy, a former teacher-turned-housewife, have a 13-year-old daughter and two sons, aged 11 and eight.

Ask him what kind of father he is and he confesses with a wince that having inherited a lot of his late mother’s austere and careful outlook on life, he is probably ‘too tight-fisted’. He is also ‘not around enough and too impatient’, he self-castigates.

The only good word he puts in for himself is that, because of his consistent belief that ‘life’s most important lessons are not found in textbooks’, he hardly ever fusses over grades.

WHAT is certain is that it is impossible to remain ambivalent about Dr Balakrishnan.

He has as many detractors who decry his strong-arm tactics and the hard-hitting changes he brought to SGH, as he has fans who applaud the much-needed winds of change and transparency he dared to introduce.

Under his stewardship, SGH saw medical breakthroughs such as the highly publicised operation to separate a pair of Siamese twins from Nepal, and the use of cord-blood transfusion to cure a five-year-old of a fatal blood disorder.

One lesson he has taken away over the years is that it is impossible to get ’100 per cent support’.

He has also learnt that the vocal fringe does not represent the mainstream.

‘To deal with this group, there is no need to confront them head-on, just sit down, shut up and stand your ground, don’t bully, be reasonable and the solid mainstream can make their own judgment about who is right and who is wrong,’ he expounds.

Throughout his career, he has often been the youngest member of the management team he has been appointed to lead. His coping strategy, he says, is not to ‘knock someone else’s experience’ and to remind his staff that it is their ‘duty’ to tell him off when he is wrong.

Summing up his management style, the man who became a CEO at 38 says: ‘I am confident enough not to have you affirm my decisions as right.

‘If you’re willing to tell me when I’m wrong, when you agree, it strengthens your affirmation.

‘Just tell me upfront at the beginning. What I don’t want is an ‘I told you so’.

Originally published in The Online Citizen on 27 Jun 2010.

http://theonlinecitizen.com/2010/06/vivian%E2%80%99s-sleight-of-hand-blaming-sporeans-for-pap-policies/

Minister for Community Development, Youth and Sports, Vivian Balakrishnan certainly pulled no punches in the week gone by. In an adjective laden tirade, he referred to some Singaporeans as “small-minded, unfair and very very selfish”.

What did Singaporeans do to deserve this tongue lashing?

The anecdotally popular explanation posits that Singaporeans were not euphoric enough about the victory of the Singapore table tennis team’s astounding achievements at the World Team Table Tennis Championships in Moscow at the end of May, where the threesome of Feng Tianwei, Wang Yuegu and Sun Bei Bei upset reigning world champions China and were crowned champions for the first time in Singapore’s history.

Born in China, Feng Tianwei began training in Singapore in March 2007 and became a citizen in January 2008. Wang Yuegu, another China-born athelete-turned-Singaporean is a Meritorious Service Medal recipient thanks to her silver medal winning performance at the 2008 Beijing Olympics. Along with Sun Bei Bei, all three were head-hunted and given the opportunity of representing Singapore in table tennis. Some, like Feng, were already professional players before being coaxed to don national colours.

When asked by a student about the need to engage foreign talent in sports, particularly from China, the Minister responded with a textbook false dilemma.

“I believe that the survival and prosperity of Singapore depend on our remaining an open society – a society able to attract and absorb and integrate talent of all shapes, sizes, races, languages, religions, countries….In other words, do not judge people simply on where they are born.”

The Minister would have been better served uncovering the root causes of the largely insipid reaction of many Singaporeans with the table tennis team’s victory, rather than suggesting that Singaporeans were being xenophobic and instinctively unwelcoming of foreigners.

Firstly, Vivian must know that not all Singaporeans are desperate for the republic’s sportsmen and women to be world champions or even any sort of champion at whatever cost. And Singaporeans do not appreciate taking the short-cut route to medals or championships where only victory is the benchmark of success.

The minister must have some recollection of Singaporean sportsmen and women of the 1970s and 1980s. The Mah Li Lians, Fandi Ahmads, Ang Peng Siongs, Azman Abdullahs, Grace Youngs, Patricia Chans and C. Kunalans of this small nation never achieved olympic or international success like the paddlers of today. But they always had the support of Singaporeans in overwhelming numbers. A medal at the regional Southeast Asian games was reason enough for merry-making. Success at the Asian games was equivalent to success at the Olympics! For a small country with a limited sporting talent pool, a sparse trophy cabinet did not minify the self-respect of Singaporeans.

With our much-cherished sporting heritage as a backdrop, Vivian ought to resist the temptation of selective amnesia and admit to the debilitative effects of the ruling People’s Action Party (PAP)-administered foreign talent-in-sports policy on Singapore and Singaporeans. The striking oddity is that success in sports often unites a nation like no other policy or social phenomenon can. In what must be a world-first, as Minister of Sports, Vivian has overseen a sporting policy that has divided Singaporeans sharply. By any stretch of the imagination, surely Singaporeans cannot be blamed for the poor political judgment of the PAP.

Secondly, Vivian’s diatribe conveniently ignores Singapore society’s discomfort at the PAP’s admission of large numbers of foreigners into Singapore from the middle of the last decade. This policy, ubiquitously referred to as the ‘foreign talent policy’ has in many cases led to job losses for Singaporeans and depressed wages for low-income Singaporeans in particular. The lack of enthusiasm for the victory of our paddlers, foreigners-turned-citizens themselves, has fallen victim to the public’s antipathy against a seemingly unconnected and larger phenomenon.

By feigning ignorance of the knock-on effects of the foreign talent policy, Vivian unsurprisingly, missed the wood for the trees. The PAP has been remiss in communicating the necessity of large numbers of foreigners into Singapore and winning over the public’s support for the foreign talent policy. While Singaporeans recognise and welcome foreigners to top-up the population numbers because of the country’s low total fertility rate (TFR), no PAP minister has come out to explain or justify with any conviction why the Singapore population must expand indefinitely, beyond the population replacement figure. A common metaphor heard among PAP grassroots workers is the Singapore pie will be enlarged and there will be more to eat for Singaporeans as a result of more foreigners. What they do not seem to appreciate is that a larger pie will have to feed a larger number of citizens as well.

Worse, the PAP has made little attempt at revealing to the public what sort of impact the foreign talent policy will have on infrastructure, and what sort of lives Singaporeans can expect to live in country that is already one of the most densely populated in the world. Instead, the PAP has showcased its blueprints for the future, such as the prospect of waterfront public housing, while shrewdly avoiding any serious enquiry into the affordability of such apartments for the vast majority of Singapore society.

Thirdly, Singaporeans are already confirming their suspicions of the larger PAP grand strategy, as far as the foreign talent policy is concerned. With foreigners already comprising 36% of the country’s population, the party in government that offers citizenship to foreigners is likely to be assured of their vote. The PAP has offered citizenship very gradually from the 1990s, with the number of Singapore citizens rising, in spite of the country’s low TFR rates, from 2.6 million to 3.2 million today. The number of Permanent Residents, a stepping stone to full citizenship status, has also increased from around 110,000 to 530,000 over the same period. While the political impact of a larger number of foreigners-turned-voters cannot be understated, once again, it appears our paddlers have had to take the brunt of public misgiving by virtue of being recent citizens themselves.

By lashing out at Singaporeans for expressing their genuine feelings over the foreign talent in local sports, all Vivian succeeded in doing was to present in distinct relief, the poor political acumen of PAP politicians. A few years ago, a retired civil service stalwart, Ngiam Tong Dow, who was Permanent Secretary of six ministries in a distinguished public service career, prophetically observed, “I think our leaders have to accept that Singapore is larger than the PAP.” Indeed, Vivian would do well to recognise that Singaporeans have genuine concerns that transcend politics, and the PAP would do well not to ride roughshod over them. By transferring the burden of a poorly executed and communicated foreign talent policy back to Singaporeans, Vivian’s tirade was disingenuous.

But where does all this leave our paddlers? Between a rock and hard place it would seem, through no real fault of their own. Rather than castigate Singaporeans, Vivian should ruminate over the shortcomings, mistakes and failures of the PAP foreign talent policy both in general, and in the sporting domain specifically. And if he is willing to engage in candid and sincere introspection, he ought to accept the lion’s share of responsibility, rather than fob it off to Singaporeans whose only mistake it would seem, was revealing the truth to him.

Ends.