Winner (Never enrolled in a local or overseas university)
I was 12 when Mr Lee died. I remember the moment I heard the news through the radio of my father’s car as we drove to school, the newscaster’s sombre voice filling the space usually occupied by Chinese pop music.
I recall the throngs splashed across the front page of the Straits Times and on the 9 o’ clock news on Channel 5, and the images of crying Singaporeans grieving for their beloved leader. Going through an old article, a quote by a Singaporean braving the rain to watch Mr Lee’s funeral procession struck me with its passion: “Why should we be afraid of rain when Mr Lee Kuan Yew has gone through a lot more storms?”
Mr Lee has an almost colossal image amongst Singaporean society. But he was far from perfect. On the year of what would be his 100th birthday, we should honour him not by worshipping his achievements, but with a balanced view of his impact on the country he worked so hard to build.
The paradox of Mr Lee
My parents were born into humble backgrounds, my grandparents working class Singaporeans with low skill jobs. They did not have the privilege of a university education. Both starting out as technicians in chemical plants, my mother jumped into the IT consulting industry despite her lack of qualifications through a spirit of learning on the job, while my father rose through the ranks to become an operations manager at a pharmaceutical factory. Thanks to Singapore’s encouragement of foreign investments, my parents were able to kick start their careers, and as Singapore’s economy developed into a more skills based, high tech environment, my mother was able to switch lines. Both harnessed Singapore’s economic development to give me many privileges they did not enjoy.
Mr Lee means the rapid industrialisation and globalisation of Singapore that created the opportunities for my parents to land their jobs and rise to their positions as the country’s economy grew. He thus means the comfortable life I enjoy – my basic necessities more than met and even the ability to enjoy some luxuries of life.
And yet, Mr Lee also means a population left behind in the dust of Singapore’s rapid progress. Loke Hoe Yong tells, in Let The People Have Him, the story of Lim Oh Tee, a pig farmer who had his attap house mowed down and was subsequently forced to move to a flat in Potong Pasir. Lim was given a beverage stall to run, but was not a good fit for the job. Without any education or prior experience in other industries, Lim could not find employment elsewhere.
Loke points out that “as Singapore was developing so rapidly, a segment of its people was not only denied their share in the fruits of their country’s new found wealth; some Singaporeans like Lim Oh Tee were worse off and had to struggle to make ends meet.”[i] While my parents were lucky enough to find stations in life that allowed them to climb the socio-economic ladder, those like Lim were forgotten and left to struggle on their own. To these people, Mr Lee meant the opposite of prosperity.
To me, Mr Lee means freedom. Mr Lee means that I am free to walk the streets with virtually no fear, due to his harsh treatment of crime and the effective police force he has built. I have the freedom to travel across Singapore on an incredibly efficient public transport system (for it was he who oversaw the conducting of the Singapore Concept Plan in 1967 which recommended an “extensive public transport network infrastructure”[ii]) and the freedom to travel to other countries from one of the most envied airports in the world (for it was he who suggested the building of Changi Airport[iii] and later called it “the best S$1.5 billion investment we ever made”[iv]).
When independence was “thrust”[v] upon us, Mr Lee built the infrastructure that has kept us free to this day. He has built an economy that allows us to be self-reliant and a capable and respectable military which deters invasion. We have also developed a firm and pragmatic foreign policy. Mr Lee means that we have the gumption to assert ourselves when necessary without destroying important relationships.
And yet, Mr Lee also means unfreedom. He is unapologetic about his belief in strict control of the media – he once claimed that the government has “the responsibility to neutralise [the media]” and that press freedoms “must be subordinated to the… primary purposes of an elected government.”[vi] PN Balji writes in Reluctant Editor that “nearly every editor in Singapore has a Lee Kuan Yew story to tell.”[vii] Journalists and editors were aware that their words were under scrutiny and constantly looked over their shoulders as they did their jobs. Mr Lee was responsible for the OB markers policy, restricting the issues the national media could discuss. All this means that journalists today practise a self-censorship of sorts to preserve their careers. I find myself practising such self-censorship too, such as when writing this essay. It might mean trouble pursuing a career in the civil service or acquiring a scholarship, despite the goals of a civil service career, a public service scholarship and this essay being all the very same – to create a better Singapore.
What is a post-Lee Kuan Yew Singapore, anyway?
DPM Teo Chee Hean once remarked that all Singaporeans are “sons and daughters” of Mr Lee. To characterise Singapore from 23 March 2015 as post-Lee Kuan Yew would be simply untrue. But it would be absurd to characterise a post-Lee Kuan Yew Singapore as a country completely free of his influence. Mr Lee’s legacy certainly will be long lasting for Singapore – in the political institutions and economic successes he built, and the principles with which we use to forge our way forward.
I propose that a post-Lee Kuan Yew Singapore will truly begin when Singapore changes its culture – political and social – to one befitting of its status as a first-world democratic nation, but without abandoning the core values from Mr Lee’s time that remain relevant. The Singapore Mr Lee led largely did not have the privilege of a world-class education which could enable sophisticated political thought amongst its polity, and was at risk of social upheaval due to racial tensions and the spectre of communism. Some of these characteristics have all but disappeared, while some are less severe. Despite this, it seems that some political attitudes tailored for these characteristics still remain. Such attitudes include a penchant for unsavoury tactics to retain PAP dominance and heavy restrictions of media freedoms. The lingering of these attitudes is why I believe Singapore cannot yet be considered “post-Lee Kuan Yew.”
Resolving the paradox: Freedom, Justice, and Equality
Independent Singapore has only ever known PAP rule. It is clear that the PAP intends for it to remain this way. It seems to me that from the PAP’s point of view only it can bring Singapore to continued success. Perhaps it is because of this belief of its monopoly on successful government that it attempts to entrench its position as the dominant party for as long as possible, giving rise to some unsavoury policies that seem to serve this end.
One example is the placing of the Elections Department under the Prime Minister’s Office, which has led to accusations of gerrymandering. Cherian George points out that democratic best practice is for the elections office to remain independent of the government of the day,[viii] and I agree with him when he finds “no earthly reason” for the Elections Department to be situated under the executive branch of government. Even if the Elections Department were not carrying out gerrymandering activities, the point that there is no reason for it to be under the PMO certainly still stands. My first wish for a post-Lee Kuan Yew Singapore is to see such unsavoury tactics disappear.
Secondly, I hope to see a greater tolerance for dissent and disagreement, in the form of greater space for media freedoms. This unfreedom can be seen in the existence of the OB markers policy, the vast powers of control conferred upon the government by the Newspaper and Printing Presses Act, as well as the government’s apparent penchant for stifling the careers of dissenting journalists.[ix] Perhaps in Mr Lee’s era, dissent was too much of a hindrance for him, as rapid economic growth was necessary for Singapore’s success. Perhaps the benefits of stifling opposition outweighed the costs. I am not sure this argument holds water today. Modern Singapore’s polity is a more educated and sophisticated one (thanks to Mr Lee), and thus would certainly produce views worth hearing. Such free discussion could be beneficial to Singapore’s continued success by breeding innovative ideas and identifying blind spots. More importantly, it prevents the government from being the sole arbiter of truth (a dangerous position with consequences we can observe in Russia, China and North Korea), holds the government accountable and can be an accurate indicator of ground sentiments, becoming a useful tool to both a democratic society and a democratic government.
The lack of media diversity in Singapore is not entirely the government’s fault. I hope to see not just a political but also a societal shift in attitudes towards alternative media in Singapore. A first-world country is characterised not only by a democratic government, but also a society interested and active in politics. The government does not stop the formation of alternative media outlets such as jom.media or Rice Media, and it has as of yet not censored any unflattering stories or commentaries from these outlets. Such outlets are unable to grow into influential organisations like SPH not because of censorship, but because they are (yet) unable to carve a profitable portion of the market for themselves. This could perhaps be due to the general unwillingness of Singaporeans to spend money on news media (despite their willingness to subscribe to Netflix), and yet we complain about not having alternative news sources! My hope is for Singaporeans to be more willing to pay for quality media so that the media industry may proliferate.
However, one key change toward a post-Lee Kuan Yew society can be observed today – a move toward a society more compassionate of those less prosperous than the rest. In Mr Lee’s time, stories like Lim Oh Tee’s were ignored. Today, the government is now more comfortable with offering direct aid to those in need, seen in the recent disbursement of cash benefits such as CDC vouchers (a very clever scheme which helps both consumers and small businesses). Of course, more can be done to reduce the inequality gap, but such efforts to assist those on the lowest rungs of the socioeconomic ladder are nonetheless commendable. My hope is to see this attitude continue to thrive and grow.
Conclusion
As a young Singaporean, I am told many things about Mr Lee. In school, I was taught that he was the architect of Singapore’s success, a genius that created a miracle nation out of nothing. Elsewhere, I was told that he was an authoritarian man that did everything in his power to get his way, a man intolerant of criticism and dissent. Both sides hold some truth, and both sides exaggerate in their stands. But it does us no good to hold neither a rose-tinted view of his contributions, nor an overly critical view towards his faults. We should instead recognise and learn from his successes and mistakes, and guide Singapore to a better future as he once did for us.
For Singapore to progress in our vastly different context today, we must adapt and change to allow Singapore to grow and mature into a confident and future proof country. This means a government ready to take on any challenge and tackle internal problems with both competency and legitimacy, and a society that can discuss ideas freely and intelligently. Such a Singapore, I am confident, would allow Mr Lee to rest peacefully in his grave.
[i] Loke, Hoe Yong. Let The People Have Him, Chiam See Tong: The Early Years. (Singapore: Epigram Books, 2014) 154-155.
[ii] Menon, Gopinath. “Singapore’s Transport System.” In 50 Secrets of Singapore’s Success, edited by Tommy Koh, 246-247. Singapore: Straits Times Press, 2020.
[iii] Liew, Mun Leong. “Changi Airport: Singapore’s Connectivity to the World.” In 50 Secrets of Singapore’s Success, edited by Tommy Koh, 260-264. Singapore: Straits Times Press, 2020.
[iv] Lee, Kuan Yew. From Third World to First: The Singapore Story: 1965-2000. (Singapore: Marshall Cavendish Editions, 2015).
[v] Lee, Kuan Yew. The Singapore Story: Memoirs of Lee Kuan Yew. (Singapore: Marshall Cavendish, 2015) 22.
[vi] Han, Fook Kwang. Lee Kuan Yew, The Man and His Ideas. (Singapore: Marshall Cavendish Editions, 2015) 430.
[vii] Balji. P.N. Reluctant Editor: The Singapore Media as Seen Through the Eyes of a Veteran Newspaper Journalist. (Singapore: Marshall Cavendish, 2019).
[viii] Walid J. Abdullah, host. “Episode 8 Part 2: Cherian George, Donald Low and Teo You Yenn.” Teh Tarik with Walid (podcast), December 5, 2020, accessed 20 May, 2023. https://open.spotify.com/episode/6WETojASzFIkX4TCzs1fAM?si=9b58cfa187e14a27.
[ix] Balji, Reluctant Editor.
MARUAH Singapore 