June 9, 2009
Respecting faith's different faces
By Tony Blair, For The Straits Times
FAITH matters. Even if you are not of religious faith yourself. Over four billion people worldwide recognise themselves as religious. They may not attend an organised place of worship. But faith plays a part in their lives.
A recent poll found that religion is important for about 30 per cent to 35per cent of people in Europe, 65 per cent of Americans and for about 90 per cent of people in most Muslim-majority countries.
started the Tony Blair Faith Foundation because I believe the modern world cannot work unless people from different faiths and cultures learn to live in peaceful co-existence with each other. Understanding increases the possibility of peace. Ignorance increases the potential for division.
The reason this is so important today is that globalisation is shrinking the space we live in, pushing people together in a way that is unique in human history. Some dislike this process. Some, like me, are content and even welcome it.
If religious faith becomes a counter-force to this process, one which pulls people apart, then it becomes reactionary and divisive. If I defined myself as a Christian in opposition to you as a Muslim, then just as we are forced to live together by globalisation, so we will be forced apart by a view of religious faith that is exclusionary and hostile to those of a different faith to our own.
The Faith Foundation works in a number of ways to prevent this happening. One way is an inter-faith encounter through action, which is why we are supporting the United Nations' anti-malaria campaign, to mobilise faith communities to become centres of distribution for bed nets and medicines in Africa. We work also for reconciliation where religion is a dimension in political conflict, as in the Middle East.
A key part of our work is education. In partnership with Yale University, we now have a 'Faith and Globalisation' course. This is now being extended to four other universities worldwide, including the National University of Singapore which I visited earlier this year.
Now we are adding a new dimension: an education programme linking up schools across the globe and across faiths. To be launched officially today, Face To Faith is designed to encourage young people of different faiths to learn directly with, from and about each other. Through structured video- conferencing, an online community and course syllabus, it gets secondary school students from across the world to work together, investigating big global issues. In this way, Face To Faith will encourage young people not only to recognise the similarities between faiths but also, importantly, to respect and deal with the differences.
Young people involved in the pilot are already reporting how their understanding of the role of faith in today's world has increased by learning from those of differing social, cultural and religious perspectives. A student from Indian Heights School in New Delhi commented: 'It's so much more interesting and real to learn directly from people of a different religion rather than simply reading about them in a book.'
I am particularly impressed by the way our lead school in Singapore, National Junior College, has taken up the challenge. NJC principal Virginia Cheng was an early pioneer of the programme, and her pupils have responded superbly. The school's engagement in Face To Faith is a testament to the way in which Singapore has embraced the concepts of a globalised world and the way in which people of different faiths must live within it. They have been a valuable leader in the development of this programme.
Already schools in Pakistan, India, Lebanon, the Palestinian Territories, Indonesia, Thailand, Britain, the United States and Canada have taken up the Face To Faith programme and some interesting offshoots are emerging. Two schools in Canada and Palestine are extending the programme, originally designed for 11- to 16-year-olds, by arranging video conference discussions between groups of parents and grandparents interested in improving their understanding of different faiths.
And these adults are not the only ones. One of the Lebanese teachers involved in the programme commented: 'One of the highlights of Face To Faith is the regular exchange with the other teachers of different faiths who have already taught me so much about different practices and perspectives.'
The Faith Foundation is dedicated to achieving understanding, action and reconciliation between the different faiths for the common good. It is not about the faith that looks inward; but the faith that resolutely turns us towards each other.
The writer, the former prime minister of Britain, is founder of the Tony Blair Faith Foundation.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Simmering anger in the troubled south (Thailand) ST Jun 10 2009
Simmering anger in the troubled south
IN 1786, the kingdom of Siam invaded and destroyed the southern kingdom of Pattani. Through the 1900s, separatist groups waged a low level but occasionally fierce resistance to Bangkok's rule.
Siam - later becoming Thailand - sought to assimilate the region's Malay Muslims but its efforts spawned deep resentment.
However, the insurgent groups failed to gain traction and sputtered on fitfully until Thaksin Shinawatra came to power in Bangkok in 2001.
As prime minister, he made several changes in the way the southern provinces were administered which alienated the people there. Those changes, and deaths in the south at the hands of the police, spawned a backlash.
Simmering anger finally boiled over on Jan4, 2004, when militants raided a military weapons depot in Narathiwat province, killing soldiers and making off with a cache of weapons.
The raid marked the start of the current phase of the insurgency, which has claimed the lives of nearly 3,500 Muslims and Buddhists since.
Thailand's 'deep south' has suffered almost daily bombings, arson attacks and drive-by shootings. There have also been grisly beheadings.
In one of the bloodiest incidents, over 30 militants were killed by security forces in a three-hour gun battle at Pattani's historic Krue Se mosque in April 2004.
Successive Thai governments have tried to end the unrest, alternating between tougher security measures and offers of economic development.
But nothing has worked. Excesses by Thai armed forces - and a lack of accountability - have only served to create a new generation of militants.
IN 1786, the kingdom of Siam invaded and destroyed the southern kingdom of Pattani. Through the 1900s, separatist groups waged a low level but occasionally fierce resistance to Bangkok's rule.
Siam - later becoming Thailand - sought to assimilate the region's Malay Muslims but its efforts spawned deep resentment.
However, the insurgent groups failed to gain traction and sputtered on fitfully until Thaksin Shinawatra came to power in Bangkok in 2001.
As prime minister, he made several changes in the way the southern provinces were administered which alienated the people there. Those changes, and deaths in the south at the hands of the police, spawned a backlash.
Simmering anger finally boiled over on Jan4, 2004, when militants raided a military weapons depot in Narathiwat province, killing soldiers and making off with a cache of weapons.
The raid marked the start of the current phase of the insurgency, which has claimed the lives of nearly 3,500 Muslims and Buddhists since.
Thailand's 'deep south' has suffered almost daily bombings, arson attacks and drive-by shootings. There have also been grisly beheadings.
In one of the bloodiest incidents, over 30 militants were killed by security forces in a three-hour gun battle at Pattani's historic Krue Se mosque in April 2004.
Successive Thai governments have tried to end the unrest, alternating between tougher security measures and offers of economic development.
But nothing has worked. Excesses by Thai armed forces - and a lack of accountability - have only served to create a new generation of militants.
Why such high standards for MPs' conduct? ST 6 Jun 2009
FOUR-LETTER words, unsubstantiated allegations, sexist remarks and even racist slurs - some might find it hard to imagine but the august halls of Singapore's Parliament have heard it all.
At different times throughout the country's history, parliamentarians have been known to indulge in some downright unparliamentary language and behaviour.
MPs in hot water
SEVERAL MPs have been taken to task by Parliament for their conduct in the House, either for what they did or said. Insight looks at four notable cases of MPs behaving badly and one of a minister's hair-raising faux pas.
The first MP to be censured
... more
But few, if any, have got away with it.
Some have been censured, some have apologised, while others have been suspended or fined, all in the name of maintaining a high standard of decorum in the House.
Last week, this strict code of conduct was demonstrated once again after MP Sin Boon Ann (Tampines GRC) read out an e-mail that criticised The Straits Times' coverage of the Aware saga, a criticism that he said he agreed with.
However, he also said the e-mail was from someone he did not know and he had not verified its contents either.
His lack of due diligence prompted the Leader of the House, Mr Mah Bow Tan, to issue a stern reminder to MPs that the privilege of parliamentary immunity - they cannot be sued for what they say in Parliament - must be balanced by high standards of accuracy.
Mr Sin himself was also made to apologise to the House.
Last week's incident was the first time in four years that an MP has been taken to task for his conduct in the House. (See story: MPs in hot water)
It comes at a time when the British Parliament - which Singapore's was modelled after - is embroiled in a scandal over MPs' perks.
The two combined mean a glaring spotlight is now trained on the behaviour of parliamentarians.
To be sure, conduct in Singapore's Parliament is more civil than in many other parliaments. Discourse is typically polite, heckling is mild on the rare occasions when it occurs, and there has never been shouting matches, fist-fights or furniture-tossing.
This emphasis on orderly conduct has led some to question if Singapore's House has become too bland.
How did we arrive at this parliamentary culture? Has it always been like this? And is it really necessary to impose such high standards on MPs?
The dos and don'ts
AT THE most basic level, Parliament derives some of its standards from the law.
The Parliament (Privileges, Immunities and Powers) Act spells out a list of 17 different offences MPs can be taken to task for. These include assaulting or insulting the Speaker or another MP, presenting any false, fabricated or falsified document with intent to deceive, and refusing to answer a relevant question.
The penalties for these include imprisonment, suspension or a fine of up to $50,000.
There is also the option for Parliament to temporarily suspend the MP's immunity from civil and criminal suits.
But rules only go so far.
Singapore's legislation is no more severe than in most other Commonwealth countries, points out constitutional law expert Kevin Tan.
'The rules themselves do not set the standard of behaviour or decorum,' he says. 'By and large, Parliament is a master of its own rules and can suspend a member's privileges.'
So far, however, it has never come to that. Singapore MPs have, on the whole, stayed within the limits.
In fact, only one person - the late opposition member J.B. Jeyaretnam - has ever been fined for his conduct in Parliament.
In the 1980s, he was referred to the House's Privileges Committee four times - once in 1982 and thrice in 1986.
The 1986 cases involved alleging executive interference in the judiciary and abuse of police powers, and failing to declare a pecuniary interest in a question he raised.
The committee fined him $1,000 on each count.
The trio of offences proved to have deeper repercussions for Parliament. In August that year, Parliament moved to introduce harsher penalties on errant MPs. It was also in the wake of this case that the possibility of suspending immunity was introduced.
To this day, the 1986 examples stand as the most serious transgressions in the House.
Most other cases were resolved with the MP involved apologising.
The cases though run the gamut from crude to amusing.
One case that many MPs interviewed recall happened just four years ago, when an expletive was uttered in Parliament.
'Shit', as an exclamation in the English language, made its way into the House, thanks to then Nominated MP Ong Soh Khim. She said the word during the 2005 Budget debate when she ran out of time. She apologised.
The same earthy entity, but this time enunciated in Hokkien, returned to Parliament two years later when MP Lee Bee Wah (Ang Mo Kio GRC) referred to it to make a point in her speech. Though some outside the House criticised her choice of vocabulary, she was not censured by Parliament.
These two bouts of verbal excess were preceded by, among others, a racist remark from former MP Choo Wee Khiang, a comment about women's hairdos from then Health Minister Lim Hng Kiang, and the ABCs of expletives from MP Ling How Doong in 1997.
Recalled former MP Wang Kai Yuen: 'He used ABC. A for asshole, B for bastard and C for talk cock.'
But clear transgressions aside, former MPs recall there generally being more banter in the House.
Heckling, though milder than in other countries, was once commonplace.
One of those who took part was former MP Chandra Das. His target was often opposition MP Chiam See Tong.
'It was harmless, we were just trying to disrupt each other's train of thought,' he tells Insight.
Mr Chiam often gave as good as he got. Mr Ling's ABCs, for instance, came in retaliation to Mr Chiam's heckling.
The practice is now rarely seen. MPs wait their turn patiently.
To voice approval, they no longer shout 'Hear hear' but thump on the chairs.
Dr Wang thinks the disappearance of heckling is simply a generational matter: 'I presume in the 1980s, more of the MPs were exposed to the British tradition. Over time, maybe we have evolved our own tradition so much so that we don't even do this anymore.'
Although he laments: 'If so, the proceedings in Parliament will be rather boring.'
Mr Das puts it down to the stricter time limits imposed on MPs' speeches these days. During Budget debates, for instance, an MP has 18 minutes to make his points - no matter how many ministries he wants to comment on. Those who head a government parliamentary committee get two minutes more.
There used to be a time when there was no limit to how long an MP could talk. This leeway ended, thanks to former Barisan Sosialis MP Lee Siew Choh.
In 1961, he delivered a speech that broke all records - and some backsides - when he argued against the proposed merger with Malaysia. He spoke for nearly 71/2 hours, starting at 11.20pm and finishing the next morning.
A time limit was introduced shortly after.
Too strict?
BUT though some former MPs reminisce fondly of the time when heckling was more commonplace and debates were livelier, all agree that the orderly Parliament in place now is a system that works for Singapore.
'You can focus on what is said rather than how it is said. It is now based more on the substance than on oratory skills,' says Wan Hussin Zoohri, a PAP MP from 1980 to 1991.
Mr Das shares the sentiment, saying one key feature of the local Parliament is that it is a 'working Parliament'.
'They don't have time to waste,' he says.
He stresses that it must always strive to maintain the high standards it has already set.
'When you set standards, there is bound to be abuse. When lapses occur, you correct them. If you set your standards low, you will get a bazaar.'
As for former MP Chew Heng Ching, he boils the matter down to MPs needing to set a good example: 'MPs are role models for many in society. Unlike in other countries, the standards expected of MPs here are very high.'
Says Mr Charles Chong (Pasir Ris- Punggol GRC): 'The fact that we do have immunity actually means that we have a higher responsibility that we do not abuse that privilege.'
On the matter of Mr Sin's transgression, he feels that where Mr Sin erred was in where he got his information from. If he had simply stated his own opinion, that would have been well within his right - even if the opinion was the same as that in the e-mail. However, because he cited an unverified source, he opened himself to criticism.
The last word on the matter of parliamentary privilege comes from Mr Mah, who is also the National Development Minister.
He is responsible for arranging government business in Parliament, and will advise the House on the action to take if a difficulty arises.
In an e-mail response to Insight, he lays out the rationale behind Singapore's strict system and explains why he made his statement in Parliament.
'Members must maintain such high standards of accountability to safeguard the dignity and decorum of the House, and to maintain the public's trust in our Parliament,' he says.
'If these standards are not maintained, we will be unfair to those who have been criticised by MPs under privilege and who are unable to clear their names. We will end up lowering the standing and authority that Parliament enjoys.'
Mr Mah also points out that the way Singapore remunerates its MPs helps ensure this high standard.
A scandal like the one in Britain will not occur here as MPs cannot ask to be reimbursed for their expenses.
'We have instead provided our MPs with a clean allowance of an appropriate amount, with no additional perks attached. This has enabled our MPs to serve their residents well, in their constituencies and in the House, and be properly compensated for such service,' he says.
jeremyau@sph.com.sg
At different times throughout the country's history, parliamentarians have been known to indulge in some downright unparliamentary language and behaviour.
MPs in hot water
SEVERAL MPs have been taken to task by Parliament for their conduct in the House, either for what they did or said. Insight looks at four notable cases of MPs behaving badly and one of a minister's hair-raising faux pas.
The first MP to be censured
... more
But few, if any, have got away with it.
Some have been censured, some have apologised, while others have been suspended or fined, all in the name of maintaining a high standard of decorum in the House.
Last week, this strict code of conduct was demonstrated once again after MP Sin Boon Ann (Tampines GRC) read out an e-mail that criticised The Straits Times' coverage of the Aware saga, a criticism that he said he agreed with.
However, he also said the e-mail was from someone he did not know and he had not verified its contents either.
His lack of due diligence prompted the Leader of the House, Mr Mah Bow Tan, to issue a stern reminder to MPs that the privilege of parliamentary immunity - they cannot be sued for what they say in Parliament - must be balanced by high standards of accuracy.
Mr Sin himself was also made to apologise to the House.
Last week's incident was the first time in four years that an MP has been taken to task for his conduct in the House. (See story: MPs in hot water)
It comes at a time when the British Parliament - which Singapore's was modelled after - is embroiled in a scandal over MPs' perks.
The two combined mean a glaring spotlight is now trained on the behaviour of parliamentarians.
To be sure, conduct in Singapore's Parliament is more civil than in many other parliaments. Discourse is typically polite, heckling is mild on the rare occasions when it occurs, and there has never been shouting matches, fist-fights or furniture-tossing.
This emphasis on orderly conduct has led some to question if Singapore's House has become too bland.
How did we arrive at this parliamentary culture? Has it always been like this? And is it really necessary to impose such high standards on MPs?
The dos and don'ts
AT THE most basic level, Parliament derives some of its standards from the law.
The Parliament (Privileges, Immunities and Powers) Act spells out a list of 17 different offences MPs can be taken to task for. These include assaulting or insulting the Speaker or another MP, presenting any false, fabricated or falsified document with intent to deceive, and refusing to answer a relevant question.
The penalties for these include imprisonment, suspension or a fine of up to $50,000.
There is also the option for Parliament to temporarily suspend the MP's immunity from civil and criminal suits.
But rules only go so far.
Singapore's legislation is no more severe than in most other Commonwealth countries, points out constitutional law expert Kevin Tan.
'The rules themselves do not set the standard of behaviour or decorum,' he says. 'By and large, Parliament is a master of its own rules and can suspend a member's privileges.'
So far, however, it has never come to that. Singapore MPs have, on the whole, stayed within the limits.
In fact, only one person - the late opposition member J.B. Jeyaretnam - has ever been fined for his conduct in Parliament.
In the 1980s, he was referred to the House's Privileges Committee four times - once in 1982 and thrice in 1986.
The 1986 cases involved alleging executive interference in the judiciary and abuse of police powers, and failing to declare a pecuniary interest in a question he raised.
The committee fined him $1,000 on each count.
The trio of offences proved to have deeper repercussions for Parliament. In August that year, Parliament moved to introduce harsher penalties on errant MPs. It was also in the wake of this case that the possibility of suspending immunity was introduced.
To this day, the 1986 examples stand as the most serious transgressions in the House.
Most other cases were resolved with the MP involved apologising.
The cases though run the gamut from crude to amusing.
One case that many MPs interviewed recall happened just four years ago, when an expletive was uttered in Parliament.
'Shit', as an exclamation in the English language, made its way into the House, thanks to then Nominated MP Ong Soh Khim. She said the word during the 2005 Budget debate when she ran out of time. She apologised.
The same earthy entity, but this time enunciated in Hokkien, returned to Parliament two years later when MP Lee Bee Wah (Ang Mo Kio GRC) referred to it to make a point in her speech. Though some outside the House criticised her choice of vocabulary, she was not censured by Parliament.
These two bouts of verbal excess were preceded by, among others, a racist remark from former MP Choo Wee Khiang, a comment about women's hairdos from then Health Minister Lim Hng Kiang, and the ABCs of expletives from MP Ling How Doong in 1997.
Recalled former MP Wang Kai Yuen: 'He used ABC. A for asshole, B for bastard and C for talk cock.'
But clear transgressions aside, former MPs recall there generally being more banter in the House.
Heckling, though milder than in other countries, was once commonplace.
One of those who took part was former MP Chandra Das. His target was often opposition MP Chiam See Tong.
'It was harmless, we were just trying to disrupt each other's train of thought,' he tells Insight.
Mr Chiam often gave as good as he got. Mr Ling's ABCs, for instance, came in retaliation to Mr Chiam's heckling.
The practice is now rarely seen. MPs wait their turn patiently.
To voice approval, they no longer shout 'Hear hear' but thump on the chairs.
Dr Wang thinks the disappearance of heckling is simply a generational matter: 'I presume in the 1980s, more of the MPs were exposed to the British tradition. Over time, maybe we have evolved our own tradition so much so that we don't even do this anymore.'
Although he laments: 'If so, the proceedings in Parliament will be rather boring.'
Mr Das puts it down to the stricter time limits imposed on MPs' speeches these days. During Budget debates, for instance, an MP has 18 minutes to make his points - no matter how many ministries he wants to comment on. Those who head a government parliamentary committee get two minutes more.
There used to be a time when there was no limit to how long an MP could talk. This leeway ended, thanks to former Barisan Sosialis MP Lee Siew Choh.
In 1961, he delivered a speech that broke all records - and some backsides - when he argued against the proposed merger with Malaysia. He spoke for nearly 71/2 hours, starting at 11.20pm and finishing the next morning.
A time limit was introduced shortly after.
Too strict?
BUT though some former MPs reminisce fondly of the time when heckling was more commonplace and debates were livelier, all agree that the orderly Parliament in place now is a system that works for Singapore.
'You can focus on what is said rather than how it is said. It is now based more on the substance than on oratory skills,' says Wan Hussin Zoohri, a PAP MP from 1980 to 1991.
Mr Das shares the sentiment, saying one key feature of the local Parliament is that it is a 'working Parliament'.
'They don't have time to waste,' he says.
He stresses that it must always strive to maintain the high standards it has already set.
'When you set standards, there is bound to be abuse. When lapses occur, you correct them. If you set your standards low, you will get a bazaar.'
As for former MP Chew Heng Ching, he boils the matter down to MPs needing to set a good example: 'MPs are role models for many in society. Unlike in other countries, the standards expected of MPs here are very high.'
Says Mr Charles Chong (Pasir Ris- Punggol GRC): 'The fact that we do have immunity actually means that we have a higher responsibility that we do not abuse that privilege.'
On the matter of Mr Sin's transgression, he feels that where Mr Sin erred was in where he got his information from. If he had simply stated his own opinion, that would have been well within his right - even if the opinion was the same as that in the e-mail. However, because he cited an unverified source, he opened himself to criticism.
The last word on the matter of parliamentary privilege comes from Mr Mah, who is also the National Development Minister.
He is responsible for arranging government business in Parliament, and will advise the House on the action to take if a difficulty arises.
In an e-mail response to Insight, he lays out the rationale behind Singapore's strict system and explains why he made his statement in Parliament.
'Members must maintain such high standards of accountability to safeguard the dignity and decorum of the House, and to maintain the public's trust in our Parliament,' he says.
'If these standards are not maintained, we will be unfair to those who have been criticised by MPs under privilege and who are unable to clear their names. We will end up lowering the standing and authority that Parliament enjoys.'
Mr Mah also points out that the way Singapore remunerates its MPs helps ensure this high standard.
A scandal like the one in Britain will not occur here as MPs cannot ask to be reimbursed for their expenses.
'We have instead provided our MPs with a clean allowance of an appropriate amount, with no additional perks attached. This has enabled our MPs to serve their residents well, in their constituencies and in the House, and be properly compensated for such service,' he says.
jeremyau@sph.com.sg
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Perception gap in views on elderly
Survey finds seniors don't see themselves the way others do
By Melissa Sim
A GAP between the way Singaporeans view the elderly and the way senior citizens see themselves has shown up in a new survey.
It shows that while nearly 90 per cent of the general population feel seniors are well-integrated and can contribute to society, less than 70 per cent of those aged 65 and above actually feel this way.
Healthy signs
ALTHOUGH some findings in the Council for Third Age (C3A) survey raised concern, it also showed encouraging trends.
For instance, about half of those aged 50 and below have started planning financially for their later years. And half of those aged 50 and above regularly participate in physical activity with a group of friends at least three times a week.
... more
RELATED LINKS
Attitudes towards the elderly
Another key finding: While 93 per cent of Singaporeans feel intergenerational relationships are important, less than 30 per cent actually spend time with extended members of their families.
The survey of 2,000 people by the Council for Third Age (C3A) was aimed at examining attitudes towards ageing. It provided insights into how a senior's relationship with his friends and family contributes to his overall well-being.
C3A is a group which promotes active ageing in Singapore.
Explaining the difference between what Singaporeans say and what they do, C3A chairman Gerard Ee said one reason younger people spend less time with older family members is that they are 'too busy'.
Other seniors may not have good relationships with their families, and this accounts for their lack of self-esteem, he added.
In some instances, he said, seniors did not prepare enough for their golden years and now find that they either lack money or have few friends to interact with on a daily basis, and this could lead to feelings of loneliness and a lack of self-worth.
Mr Ee said that because families are smaller these days, it is more important than ever for older folk to have 'networks of people to grow old with'.
The disconnect has to be addressed, he said, because another survey finding showed the benefits of making sure seniors are well-integrated: Respondents with supportive families and friends around them were more likely to be satisfied with life.
Take housewife Peggy Cheng, 60, for instance. The mother of three, one of the respondents in the survey, said she was healthy and life was very enjoyable.
She goes to the movies with her grown children, and sometimes even goes to a pub or club with her daughter. 'She can dance, I can have a drink,' she said.
'There are always ways to meet them halfway.'
To encourage more such intergenerational bonding, C3A has lined up several initiatives.
Among them is a conference co-organised with the National University of Singapore.
To be held in April next year, the 4th International Consortium for Intergenerational Programmes will bring together 300 international and local experts and delegates to discuss such issues and how to better integrate seniors into society.
The council will also launch an Intergenerational Bonding Award this month to encourage people to develop programmes which promote such activities.
C3A will also set up the Knowledge Networking on Ageing Programme (Knap), a platform for organisations and individuals to share experiences and information on ageing issues.
The council's chief executive, Mr Henry Quake, said Knap will allow research data to be translated into meaningful programmes.
Another programme on the cards is the annual Active Ageing Festival, which encourages seniors to try new things in a safe and fun environment.
The council will also continue to support the development of interest groups, and promote understanding of seniors and ageing issues among youth.
simlinoi@sph.com.sg
Survey finds seniors don't see themselves the way others do
By Melissa Sim
A GAP between the way Singaporeans view the elderly and the way senior citizens see themselves has shown up in a new survey.
It shows that while nearly 90 per cent of the general population feel seniors are well-integrated and can contribute to society, less than 70 per cent of those aged 65 and above actually feel this way.
Healthy signs
ALTHOUGH some findings in the Council for Third Age (C3A) survey raised concern, it also showed encouraging trends.
For instance, about half of those aged 50 and below have started planning financially for their later years. And half of those aged 50 and above regularly participate in physical activity with a group of friends at least three times a week.
... more
RELATED LINKS
Attitudes towards the elderly
Another key finding: While 93 per cent of Singaporeans feel intergenerational relationships are important, less than 30 per cent actually spend time with extended members of their families.
The survey of 2,000 people by the Council for Third Age (C3A) was aimed at examining attitudes towards ageing. It provided insights into how a senior's relationship with his friends and family contributes to his overall well-being.
C3A is a group which promotes active ageing in Singapore.
Explaining the difference between what Singaporeans say and what they do, C3A chairman Gerard Ee said one reason younger people spend less time with older family members is that they are 'too busy'.
Other seniors may not have good relationships with their families, and this accounts for their lack of self-esteem, he added.
In some instances, he said, seniors did not prepare enough for their golden years and now find that they either lack money or have few friends to interact with on a daily basis, and this could lead to feelings of loneliness and a lack of self-worth.
Mr Ee said that because families are smaller these days, it is more important than ever for older folk to have 'networks of people to grow old with'.
The disconnect has to be addressed, he said, because another survey finding showed the benefits of making sure seniors are well-integrated: Respondents with supportive families and friends around them were more likely to be satisfied with life.
Take housewife Peggy Cheng, 60, for instance. The mother of three, one of the respondents in the survey, said she was healthy and life was very enjoyable.
She goes to the movies with her grown children, and sometimes even goes to a pub or club with her daughter. 'She can dance, I can have a drink,' she said.
'There are always ways to meet them halfway.'
To encourage more such intergenerational bonding, C3A has lined up several initiatives.
Among them is a conference co-organised with the National University of Singapore.
To be held in April next year, the 4th International Consortium for Intergenerational Programmes will bring together 300 international and local experts and delegates to discuss such issues and how to better integrate seniors into society.
The council will also launch an Intergenerational Bonding Award this month to encourage people to develop programmes which promote such activities.
C3A will also set up the Knowledge Networking on Ageing Programme (Knap), a platform for organisations and individuals to share experiences and information on ageing issues.
The council's chief executive, Mr Henry Quake, said Knap will allow research data to be translated into meaningful programmes.
Another programme on the cards is the annual Active Ageing Festival, which encourages seniors to try new things in a safe and fun environment.
The council will also continue to support the development of interest groups, and promote understanding of seniors and ageing issues among youth.
simlinoi@sph.com.sg
Angry Putin rips into top oligarch - ST 6 June 2009
Angry Putin rips into top oligarch
Premier accuses tycoon of greed; likens factory owners to cockroaches
'You have made thousands of people hostage to your ambitions, your lack of professionalism - or maybe simply your trivial greed.' -- Mr Putin (left) to Mr Deripaska (right) -- PHOTO: AGENCE FRANCE-PRESSE
PIKALYOVO (RUSSIA): Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin publicly humiliated a top oligarch, accusing him and other factory owners in a crisis-hit town of greed and likening them to 'cockroaches'.
Mr Putin, playing on the anger of protesting workers in the town of Pikalyovo, forced Mr Oleg Deripaska, a top metals tycoon and once Russia's richest man, to sign a contract for supplies to help idle factories restart operations.
'You have made thousands of people hostage to your ambitions, your lack of professionalism - or maybe simply your trivial greed,' he told Mr Deripaska and two other businessmen who own cement and alumina factories in the town in a confrontation broadcast on television.
'Where is the social responsibility of business?'
Mr Putin arrived at Pikalyovo by helicopter on Thursday, where hungry workers blocked a motorway this week to protest over unpaid salaries, as world business leaders gathered for Russia's premier annual economic summit in St Petersburg, 270km away.
He rounded on Mr Deripaska and the two other businessmen, making a veiled threat to expropriate their property unless they sorted out the situation quickly.
'Why was everyone running around like cockroaches before my arrival? Why was no one capable of taking decisions?' Mr Putin said as Mr Deripaska stared blankly.
'Has Oleg Vladimirovich (Deripaska) signed? I do not see your signature. Come here and sign it,' Mr Putin said, throwing a pen dismissively onto the table.
His head hanging low like a schoolboy, the once-mighty oligarch walked up to the Premier's table, read the document covering raw material supplies to the factories and added his signature.
Meanwhile, US$1.5 million (S$2.16 million) in back wages flowed into citizens' bank accounts, and lines appeared in front of cash dispensers all over the city.
After the meeting, workers cheered Mr Putin as he told them the problems at the plants had been resolved. The Premier's spokesman, Mr Dmitry Peskov, said Mr Putin had been 'quite strict'.
Mr Putin's intervention in Pikalyovo comes as similar economic troubles unfold across Russia's industrial heartland, despite the recent rise in world oil prices, which has relieved budgetary pressures on the Kremlin.
There are at least 400 Russian 'mono-cities', places like Pikalyovo (population 22,000) where the shuttering of a single factory could throw a whole population into crisis.
Since late last year, sociologists have debated whether these towns had the potential to explode - or whether Russians would quietly adapt to hardship, as they had in the past. For months, evidence has pointed to the latter.
But that calculus changed this week in Pikalyovo, where many workers had been surviving on staples like cabbage soup and becoming progressively angrier.
When the local utility shut off the town's hot water over unpaid wages last month, a group forced its way into the mayor's office. On Tuesday, several hundred people blocked a federal highway for six hours. The next step, they said, was blocking the railroad, or a hunger strike.
'The signal here is simple. The crisis and other difficulties cannot serve as an indulgence from social responsibility and you cannot solve your problems without taking care of people, you cannot try to put all responsibilities on the shoulders of the state,' Mr Peskov said. 'They (businessmen) were not thinking about people at all.'
During his visit, Mr Putin took pains to say he did not approve of the workers' protest actions, and even suggested that demonstrators had been paid. But the police did not disperse Pikalyovo's demonstrators, mostly middle-aged women who had logged decades at the factory.
Citizens here said they could never have attracted Mr Putin's attention if it were not for the protests.
Pikalyovo 'is not dying, it is already practically dead', said Mr Alexander Kruglov, 26. 'People were so worried about their families that they went out into the street. I think it is the only way to defend yourself.'
That message could resonate in other industrial towns. Mr Mikhail Viktorovich Shmakov, chairman of the Federation of Independent Trade Unions, said on Thursday that the protest mood was rising in 'many one-factory towns', among them Tsvetlogorsk and Baikalsk, where 42 employees of a paper mill have begun a hunger strike over unpaid wages.
ASSOCIATED PRESS, NEW YORK TIMES
Premier accuses tycoon of greed; likens factory owners to cockroaches
'You have made thousands of people hostage to your ambitions, your lack of professionalism - or maybe simply your trivial greed.' -- Mr Putin (left) to Mr Deripaska (right) -- PHOTO: AGENCE FRANCE-PRESSE
PIKALYOVO (RUSSIA): Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin publicly humiliated a top oligarch, accusing him and other factory owners in a crisis-hit town of greed and likening them to 'cockroaches'.
Mr Putin, playing on the anger of protesting workers in the town of Pikalyovo, forced Mr Oleg Deripaska, a top metals tycoon and once Russia's richest man, to sign a contract for supplies to help idle factories restart operations.
'You have made thousands of people hostage to your ambitions, your lack of professionalism - or maybe simply your trivial greed,' he told Mr Deripaska and two other businessmen who own cement and alumina factories in the town in a confrontation broadcast on television.
'Where is the social responsibility of business?'
Mr Putin arrived at Pikalyovo by helicopter on Thursday, where hungry workers blocked a motorway this week to protest over unpaid salaries, as world business leaders gathered for Russia's premier annual economic summit in St Petersburg, 270km away.
He rounded on Mr Deripaska and the two other businessmen, making a veiled threat to expropriate their property unless they sorted out the situation quickly.
'Why was everyone running around like cockroaches before my arrival? Why was no one capable of taking decisions?' Mr Putin said as Mr Deripaska stared blankly.
'Has Oleg Vladimirovich (Deripaska) signed? I do not see your signature. Come here and sign it,' Mr Putin said, throwing a pen dismissively onto the table.
His head hanging low like a schoolboy, the once-mighty oligarch walked up to the Premier's table, read the document covering raw material supplies to the factories and added his signature.
Meanwhile, US$1.5 million (S$2.16 million) in back wages flowed into citizens' bank accounts, and lines appeared in front of cash dispensers all over the city.
After the meeting, workers cheered Mr Putin as he told them the problems at the plants had been resolved. The Premier's spokesman, Mr Dmitry Peskov, said Mr Putin had been 'quite strict'.
Mr Putin's intervention in Pikalyovo comes as similar economic troubles unfold across Russia's industrial heartland, despite the recent rise in world oil prices, which has relieved budgetary pressures on the Kremlin.
There are at least 400 Russian 'mono-cities', places like Pikalyovo (population 22,000) where the shuttering of a single factory could throw a whole population into crisis.
Since late last year, sociologists have debated whether these towns had the potential to explode - or whether Russians would quietly adapt to hardship, as they had in the past. For months, evidence has pointed to the latter.
But that calculus changed this week in Pikalyovo, where many workers had been surviving on staples like cabbage soup and becoming progressively angrier.
When the local utility shut off the town's hot water over unpaid wages last month, a group forced its way into the mayor's office. On Tuesday, several hundred people blocked a federal highway for six hours. The next step, they said, was blocking the railroad, or a hunger strike.
'The signal here is simple. The crisis and other difficulties cannot serve as an indulgence from social responsibility and you cannot solve your problems without taking care of people, you cannot try to put all responsibilities on the shoulders of the state,' Mr Peskov said. 'They (businessmen) were not thinking about people at all.'
During his visit, Mr Putin took pains to say he did not approve of the workers' protest actions, and even suggested that demonstrators had been paid. But the police did not disperse Pikalyovo's demonstrators, mostly middle-aged women who had logged decades at the factory.
Citizens here said they could never have attracted Mr Putin's attention if it were not for the protests.
Pikalyovo 'is not dying, it is already practically dead', said Mr Alexander Kruglov, 26. 'People were so worried about their families that they went out into the street. I think it is the only way to defend yourself.'
That message could resonate in other industrial towns. Mr Mikhail Viktorovich Shmakov, chairman of the Federation of Independent Trade Unions, said on Thursday that the protest mood was rising in 'many one-factory towns', among them Tsvetlogorsk and Baikalsk, where 42 employees of a paper mill have begun a hunger strike over unpaid wages.
ASSOCIATED PRESS, NEW YORK TIMES
Friday, June 5, 2009
1959 + Fifty
1959 + Fifty
Poet Edwin Thumboo, 75, grew up with the nation and, inevitably, his themes have been nationalistic. He penned this poem exclusively for The Straits Times.
I
Our City that
They half-returned, Raffles founded with precision.
He commandeered slick arrangements to oversee his
Island's cross-straits growth, firmly staving off spicy
Interlopers, then tapped migrant energies to build.
Let's credit the old colonial foresight, grip, tenacity.
They made a notable place, a link in their global grid.
No lonely outpost this. In truth, a posh equator-haven
That never questioned fun so long its form was pakka.
Scan old maps, prints, club traditions, pleasance,
For pulsating tropic therapy. List names now slightly
Tanned: Mt Sophia, Mt Faber, Mt Echo. Little, high
Exclusive places to catch airy melur and cempaka
Undulations, while below, variously, were daily lives
Of sweaty heave-and-ho of multi-racial labourings.
They branded Imperial Comfort, kept up ritual till
Worn down, without remit, by a great Depression,
WW2, to a limping victory. Then Batang Kali, Hidup
Negara, and Merdeka, began to stalk the aging itsy-
Bitsy Lion shedding her colonies, reluctantly turning
Post-colonial.
II
This our City-State,
Rose above withdrawal-symptoms creeping home from
East of Suez, black-white bungalows, Nee Soon bars.
We make again, but now according to our leaders who
Muster and assess; chew, cogitate; rotate dreams, inspect
Possibilities including base conversion; calculate the way
Ahead; split racist infinitives; re-dress, re-vive decaying
Precincts; re-place Old Lobb and farm; learn to re-learn;
Keep tradition, yet change, move, do. Lick trade unions
Into shape. Lance the Barisan boil, as ten million sing
Malaysia forever, a brief sojourn, a painful parting for
This our island in the sun.
Assemble KPIs:
Labour, Capital, Government; Meritocracy, Equality;
Integrity, Commitment, Skills Development Fund;
And more, to mix and match into a Pledge, a Unity.
Singapore agak agak sudah jadi
Walk down the years between ever taller buildings, cross
Cleaner streets following a small green man who never tires.
Past Copthorne, to that notorious bend which slows our river.
No sulfide air. There are fish. Then backtrack past bridges
Whose names sound our history. See the Merlion, Durian,
Floating Platform, and emerging Double Helix bridge:
Art and design enhance function as in the newer HDBs.
Stroll Marina Barrage. Stop. Hear the waters on either side:
One composed, one rough, two signifiers for our boundaries.
Guard one; watch the other, so sanctify life within our skyline,
As twilight starts to hum, stretch its limbs, as colours move.
This new lake will gradually re-fresh, sweeten, fill sails, sms,
Accost the rising sun, pleasure lovers who hug its shores then
See the evening set in a pair of eyes, gently foreclosing.
Soon moonlight will start to heap.
Guardian hours that pass will come again,
As I remember what fifty years of vision
Un-did and did,
As what was and is, and may have been,
I place in the fifty years to come.
May 2009
COPYRIGHT: EDWIN THUMBOO
Poet Edwin Thumboo, 75, grew up with the nation and, inevitably, his themes have been nationalistic. He penned this poem exclusively for The Straits Times.
I
Our City that
They half-returned, Raffles founded with precision.
He commandeered slick arrangements to oversee his
Island's cross-straits growth, firmly staving off spicy
Interlopers, then tapped migrant energies to build.
Let's credit the old colonial foresight, grip, tenacity.
They made a notable place, a link in their global grid.
No lonely outpost this. In truth, a posh equator-haven
That never questioned fun so long its form was pakka.
Scan old maps, prints, club traditions, pleasance,
For pulsating tropic therapy. List names now slightly
Tanned: Mt Sophia, Mt Faber, Mt Echo. Little, high
Exclusive places to catch airy melur and cempaka
Undulations, while below, variously, were daily lives
Of sweaty heave-and-ho of multi-racial labourings.
They branded Imperial Comfort, kept up ritual till
Worn down, without remit, by a great Depression,
WW2, to a limping victory. Then Batang Kali, Hidup
Negara, and Merdeka, began to stalk the aging itsy-
Bitsy Lion shedding her colonies, reluctantly turning
Post-colonial.
II
This our City-State,
Rose above withdrawal-symptoms creeping home from
East of Suez, black-white bungalows, Nee Soon bars.
We make again, but now according to our leaders who
Muster and assess; chew, cogitate; rotate dreams, inspect
Possibilities including base conversion; calculate the way
Ahead; split racist infinitives; re-dress, re-vive decaying
Precincts; re-place Old Lobb and farm; learn to re-learn;
Keep tradition, yet change, move, do. Lick trade unions
Into shape. Lance the Barisan boil, as ten million sing
Malaysia forever, a brief sojourn, a painful parting for
This our island in the sun.
Assemble KPIs:
Labour, Capital, Government; Meritocracy, Equality;
Integrity, Commitment, Skills Development Fund;
And more, to mix and match into a Pledge, a Unity.
Singapore agak agak sudah jadi
Walk down the years between ever taller buildings, cross
Cleaner streets following a small green man who never tires.
Past Copthorne, to that notorious bend which slows our river.
No sulfide air. There are fish. Then backtrack past bridges
Whose names sound our history. See the Merlion, Durian,
Floating Platform, and emerging Double Helix bridge:
Art and design enhance function as in the newer HDBs.
Stroll Marina Barrage. Stop. Hear the waters on either side:
One composed, one rough, two signifiers for our boundaries.
Guard one; watch the other, so sanctify life within our skyline,
As twilight starts to hum, stretch its limbs, as colours move.
This new lake will gradually re-fresh, sweeten, fill sails, sms,
Accost the rising sun, pleasure lovers who hug its shores then
See the evening set in a pair of eyes, gently foreclosing.
Soon moonlight will start to heap.
Guardian hours that pass will come again,
As I remember what fifty years of vision
Un-did and did,
As what was and is, and may have been,
I place in the fifty years to come.
May 2009
COPYRIGHT: EDWIN THUMBOO
50 years & after
50 years & after
S'pore has come a long way as a nation-in-formation, while its identity is still shaping itself
By Edwin Thumboo
That Singapore has changed and evolved much is visible all around us, says Professor Thumboo, who finds the view from marina barrage with the right sunset quietly stirring and memorable. -- ST PHOTO: DESMOND FOO
FOR most of my generation, the sense of Singapore as a nation had crystallised by the mid-1950s. Our journeys and expectations varied - and continue to, in some instances widely - across the generations, political spectrum and our ethnicities, our histories.
But the passion, the impatience and the commitment to be free of British rule, were widely shared. That was our tryst with destiny.
Such feelings have a starting point. For me it was listening to my father and his friends, talking about the war during the latter part of the Japanese Occupation, and the shape of the future.
An uncle from Swatow in China, who had arrived in 1939 and stayed till 1951, was a leftist. I learnt much about nation and nationalism, particularly what I saw as 'red' nationalism, the greatness of China and the abuses of European colonialism. 'Never trust the red-haired devils. They steal.'
The lessons and perspectives broadened further when I went to the University of Malaya, then in Singapore, in 1953. Those and the following five to six years were turbulent. The communists were active. There were strikes and riots.
It was only at the end of the period that there was a party with the vision, integrity, determination and the wherewithal to take up the reins of government. The PAP government was sworn in on June 5, 1959 with Mr Lee Kuan Yew as our first prime minister. A long run, but there are more journeys ahead.
The world is Darwinian: survival of the fittest. And the fittest are those most adaptable in how they simultaneously respond to internal, neighbouring, regional and global changes and challenges.
In response to that inevitable question of how you would sum up Singapore in a sentence, I have said that we generate wealth through capitalist means, and distribute it through semi-socialist means. The same spirit underpins much of our success.
The travelling we did as a nation-in-formation is visible all around us. An obvious statement, but whose obviousness hides a series of narratives, of starts, of continuities, of revisions, of re-inventions, of uncertainties overcome.
Our physical environment is attractive, even beautiful. The view from Marina Barrage with the right sunset is quietly stirring; ever memorable. Almost every visitor is impressed by and appreciates our clean streets, air-conditioned buildings. We have come a long way.
We hope for more beautiful Singaporeans, beautiful inside, gracious in spirit and in action, for the world needs kindness and more kindness, and that should start at home.
Nearly 25 years ago, in 1985, a few of us gathered in the Arts and Social Sciences Senior Lounge to take stock of the first five years of the National University of Singapore. The conversation moved to Singapore. We felt that it had gone through a hundred years of growth.
Given this speed, we have not had the time to evolve and consolidate certain aspects of that deeper unity and solidarity underpinning older societies. We have become global, international, before we are national. There is a Singaporean identity, one still shaping itself. It will come, in time, hopefully during the next 50 years. In the meantime, let us admire the moonlight over Marina Bay.
Cultural Medallion poet Edwin Thumboo is Emeritus Professor of the Department of English Language and Literature at the National University of Singapore.
S'pore has come a long way as a nation-in-formation, while its identity is still shaping itself
By Edwin Thumboo
That Singapore has changed and evolved much is visible all around us, says Professor Thumboo, who finds the view from marina barrage with the right sunset quietly stirring and memorable. -- ST PHOTO: DESMOND FOO
FOR most of my generation, the sense of Singapore as a nation had crystallised by the mid-1950s. Our journeys and expectations varied - and continue to, in some instances widely - across the generations, political spectrum and our ethnicities, our histories.
But the passion, the impatience and the commitment to be free of British rule, were widely shared. That was our tryst with destiny.
Such feelings have a starting point. For me it was listening to my father and his friends, talking about the war during the latter part of the Japanese Occupation, and the shape of the future.
An uncle from Swatow in China, who had arrived in 1939 and stayed till 1951, was a leftist. I learnt much about nation and nationalism, particularly what I saw as 'red' nationalism, the greatness of China and the abuses of European colonialism. 'Never trust the red-haired devils. They steal.'
The lessons and perspectives broadened further when I went to the University of Malaya, then in Singapore, in 1953. Those and the following five to six years were turbulent. The communists were active. There were strikes and riots.
It was only at the end of the period that there was a party with the vision, integrity, determination and the wherewithal to take up the reins of government. The PAP government was sworn in on June 5, 1959 with Mr Lee Kuan Yew as our first prime minister. A long run, but there are more journeys ahead.
The world is Darwinian: survival of the fittest. And the fittest are those most adaptable in how they simultaneously respond to internal, neighbouring, regional and global changes and challenges.
In response to that inevitable question of how you would sum up Singapore in a sentence, I have said that we generate wealth through capitalist means, and distribute it through semi-socialist means. The same spirit underpins much of our success.
The travelling we did as a nation-in-formation is visible all around us. An obvious statement, but whose obviousness hides a series of narratives, of starts, of continuities, of revisions, of re-inventions, of uncertainties overcome.
Our physical environment is attractive, even beautiful. The view from Marina Barrage with the right sunset is quietly stirring; ever memorable. Almost every visitor is impressed by and appreciates our clean streets, air-conditioned buildings. We have come a long way.
We hope for more beautiful Singaporeans, beautiful inside, gracious in spirit and in action, for the world needs kindness and more kindness, and that should start at home.
Nearly 25 years ago, in 1985, a few of us gathered in the Arts and Social Sciences Senior Lounge to take stock of the first five years of the National University of Singapore. The conversation moved to Singapore. We felt that it had gone through a hundred years of growth.
Given this speed, we have not had the time to evolve and consolidate certain aspects of that deeper unity and solidarity underpinning older societies. We have become global, international, before we are national. There is a Singaporean identity, one still shaping itself. It will come, in time, hopefully during the next 50 years. In the meantime, let us admire the moonlight over Marina Bay.
Cultural Medallion poet Edwin Thumboo is Emeritus Professor of the Department of English Language and Literature at the National University of Singapore.
My take on the green, green grass of home
My take on the green, green grass of home
Although Peter Lim has had ample opportunity to emigrate, he has never wanted to do so
Mr Lim is not upset by people leaving, not because he does not feel for Singapore, but because he believes that no country should hold on to citizens against their will. -- ST PHOTO: DESMOND FOO
I CAN still sing God Save The Queen, the British national anthem. When a male monarch is on the throne, I will have to sing God Save The King. If I still want to sing that anthem, that is. I don't.
I do want to be able to sing our national anthem Majulah Singapura without the aid of a song sheet. Am I embarrassed that I cannot sing by heart our national anthem? After all, heart is where loyalty to the nation should reside.
I am not embarrassed or apologetic. Blame not any lack of patriotism on my part, blame the timing of my birth. I was born in 1938, when Singapore was a British colony.
Between 1946 and 1956, when I was in an English-stream mission school, there was no flag-raising or recitation of pledge or singing of anthem. Yet, even now, I can recall stanzas like 'God save our gracious Queen, Long live our noble Queen'.
The lyrics of Majulah Singapura are still not in my instant recall, but they are in my bag. My Tous sling bag from Spain, which I carry around most days, has a page photocopied from The Straits Times.
On the page from Jan 22, 2001 is a story headlined 'How to sing the anthem' complete with the lyrics. I am working at memorising the words in both our national language and the English translation.
I was a British subject - not a citizen - up to 1963, when I automatically became a Malaysian following Singapore's merger with the Federation of Malaya, Sabah and Sarawak.
In my second last year in secondary school, I joined the Malayan Air Training Corps (MATC). It was an adjunct of Britain's Royal Air Force (RAF) which had bases in Singapore. We were schoolboy cadets, learning a little military discipline and a lot about aviation.
My heart was set on becoming a fighter pilot with the RAF. There was no conscious desire to help defend Britain or its empire. What propelled me were thrilling schoolboy books about World War II.
My family was poor then and I would have had to travel at my own expense to England to try and sign up. It would not have been easy for a non-white, non-citizen to get selected for fighter aircraft training. But I was hopeful. Two Singapore-born men had made it as RAF pilots, an ethnic Chinese and an ethnic Malay.
Hopes rose when the MATC selected me for basic flying training. Then I was grounded, because I became short-sighted. I was devastated! That was in 1956, my last year in secondary school.
MATC commandant Johnny Behague, a wartime RAF wing commander who became The Straits Times' news editor, brought me into journalism after he heard that I had been grounded. I started as a part-time reporter, chasing stories after school when I should have been doing homework.
Then I won an essay competition and represented Singapore at the 1957 New York Herald Tribune World Youth Forum in the United States.
What an awakening about nationalism and geopolitics as well as the omnipresence of racial sensitivities and prejudices!
Back in Singapore, when I was interviewed by forum selectors, I was asked what I thought of the Chinese students' demonstrations against colonial policies that they felt were oppressive and anti- Chinese education and language.
I unthinkingly gave the colonial administration's line that the students were misled and were being exploited by communists or pro-communists. I hope I did not get to go to the forum only because of that!
In New York, in the company of 32 other teenagers from as many countries, I experienced passionate nationalism and powerful prejudices at close quarters. The animosity, even hatred, between the Arab delegates and Israel's representative was sad and scary at the beginning of our three months together.
Then, tentatively at first, picking up momentum at a snail's pace, friendliness between the Israeli and Arabs emerged.
One night, the Moroccan boy danced the rock and roll with the much taller Israeli girl and, spectacularly, swung her over hip and shoulder. She landed on her feet to boisterous, happy applause.
Their new-found friendliness had a dark overlay. I was told that when they got back to their respective homes, they probably would not be able to talk freely about how they had befriended an enemy even for just three months or less.
I had gone to the forum from Singapore where I had good friends who were Malay, Indian, Eurasian, European, Jewish and Chinese. Throwing racist taunts was part of our having fun together.
In America then - and even now - I had to be much more careful about how I talked about race. And America is the land of freedom of expression.
I say that without intending any disrespect for America. If I ever wanted to emigrate, it would be to the US.
But I have never wanted to emigrate, much to the surprise of many friends and even strangers. They asked numerous times: 'Why have you not emigrated?'
After Singapore's separation from Malaysia in 1965, I could write 'Singaporean' in the nationality section of bothersome immigration forms. I recalled my MATC days and my fighter-pilot dream.
I remembered that the People's Action Party (PAP) government disbanded the Malayan Auxiliary Air Force, whose pilots were all locals. And then it had to build up a Singapore air force. See what a confidence-boosting Republic of Singapore Air Force we have now. If only I were 18 again - and not short-sighted...
I was not angry when he said it, not angry only because he was a friend. But I felt a twitch of hurt when, talking about a National Day Parade fly-past by our fighter jets, he said with a distinct sneer: 'Did you know the pilots were all expats?'
I did not engage him on that point. But I would have said, if I did: 'So what? Foreign expertise and foreign help do get us going. And we will get there. We want to be home-grown but we also want to stay international.'
But that was years ago, when we had a new squadron of not-so-modern fighters.
Now our air force trains in top-of- the-line fighters and attack helicopters. But intensive training has to be done overseas, as we do not have much airspace. Being able to do it this way is a sweet mix of home-grown and foreign.
The Republic of Singapore Navy buys a new class of warship from overseas. The deal is that you build the first one or two, then help us build the rest of the flotilla. That is a sweeter mix of home-grown and foreign.
The Singapore Armed Forces has in their arsenal some awesome ground weapons, including those designed and made here. Singapore now exports such weapons even to countries from which we had bought arms. That is the sweetest - for now - mix of home-grown and foreign.
Here is another National Day Parade story from years back. What touched me most was the People's Defence Force contingent marching past. It was obviously not an elite fighting force. It was a bunch of volunteer soldiers. But I was so moved I decided to join the PDF. How would I fit that into my newsroom schedule?
While I wondered and procrastinated, the SAF remodelled the PDF. Modern warfare, the SAF felt, needed soldiers who were much more highly honed than PDF volunteers. But if there had been trouble and there was a general mobilisation, I know I would procrastinate no longer.
To many of us in Singapore newsrooms, Mr J.B.Jeyaretnam winning the Anson by-election in 1981 seemed to foretell trouble of one sort or another.
After the shock of the result and the inevitable aftershocks had subsided, I felt troubled hearing a government minister I highly respected saying more than once publicly that a working democracy did not need any opposition.
I was relieved when the Government demonstrated that it still believed Parliament had space for an opposition. So we now have Non-Constituency MPs and Nominated MPs. We continue to have elected opposition MPs.
We know that many Singaporeans who have emigrated have given as their main reasons the way the PAP leaders run the government, the restrictions on media and freedom of expression, the pressure on schoolgoing children and the emphasis on academic credentials.
Recently, at an Anglo-Chinese School Year of 1956 reunion, I was deeply touched hearing a former classmate say that he left Singapore almost totally disenchanted even though he was professionally qualified, that he spent years helping Singaporeans to emigrate, first doing it long-distance, then coming back on business trips to do just that.
Now he is home for good, or as good as it gets for people from my year, senior citizens in our late 60s or early 70s.
Has he come home because this is where he would want to die? No, he has come home because this is where he wants to live again.
I stepped down as editor-in-chief of Singapore Press Holdings' English and Malay-language newspapers in 1987 and became chief editor of The New Paper. I resigned from SPH in 1990 for a different lifestyle, a change after 33 years in a corporation.
What was it about the atmosphere in Singapore that, in 1987 and then 1990, friends and strangers alike would shake my hand, offer empathy or sympathy, best wishes as well as compliments about my journalism, and ask: 'Are you going to emigrate?'
I knew and I know my preferred emigration destinations, in this order: San Francisco, Kauai in Hawaii, Sydney. But I have never wanted to emigrate.
That statement would not bring tears to any Singaporean's eyes, not even the most patriotic. But a mention of emigration reportedly brought Mr Lee Kuan Yew 'close to tears' during the 1989 National Day Rally, when he was Prime Minister.
I came across the report earlier this week when helping to work on Chronicle Of Singapore, a book to be published later this year jointly by Editions Didier Millet and the National Library Board. The book recounts Singapore's 50 years from 1959 to 2009 through summary reports culled from newspapers and news magazines.
The report on the rally says Mr Lee came close to tears when he wondered aloud why young Singaporeans were emigrating. Emigration never occurred to him and his generation, he said, adding the question: Wasn't this their country?
Emigration of Singaporeans does not bring me close to tears, not because I do not feel for Singapore, but because I believe that no country should hold on to citizens against their will.
For some new Singaporeans, it was love at first sight when they arrived as foreigners. Others fell in love much more slowly.
Citizenship is not marriage. But, like marriage, it can cause estrangement which can lead to desertion and divorce. Let it be. There will be re-marriage situations, and there will be new citizens, so long as Singapore remains desirable.
Once, as a journalist covering one of Minister Mentor Lee's overseas trips when he was PM, he told the media why Singapore was such a splendid home. I thought of the 1960s country hit Green Green Grass Of Home. I used that line in my report, and the editors put it in the heading on Page 1.
When I got home, a colleague laughed and asked: 'Do you know what Green Green Grass Of Home is about? You'd better hope that LKY doesn't!'
Now I know, thanks to what my colleague said in the pre-Internet era and thanks this week to Wikipedia, from which I quote:
'The song is about a man who has been away from home for a while. He tells that he is returning to his small home town in the country. When he steps down from the train, he touches the green grass. His parents and 'sweet Mary' are there to welcome him...
'Then comes a spoken section where the singer awakens in prison: 'Then I awake and look around me, at four grey walls that surround me. And I realise that I was only dreaming.' The man is, in reality, awaiting his execution, and he will return home only when he is dead and buried: 'Yes, they'll all come to see me in the shade of that old oak tree, as they lay me 'neath the green, green grass of home'.'
I do not intend to commit any crime for which I will be executed. But wherever I die, I'd like to be brought home for cremation and my ashes scattered at sea just at the boundary of Singapore waters.
plimhl@pacific.net.sg
Peter H.L. Lim was SPH's editor-in-chief (English & Malay newspapers). He is now a writer and media consultant. Having worked with A*Star, Mr Lim, 70, would like this kind of career: fighter pilot, research scientist, journalist specialising in science writing and editing.
Although Peter Lim has had ample opportunity to emigrate, he has never wanted to do so
Mr Lim is not upset by people leaving, not because he does not feel for Singapore, but because he believes that no country should hold on to citizens against their will. -- ST PHOTO: DESMOND FOO
I CAN still sing God Save The Queen, the British national anthem. When a male monarch is on the throne, I will have to sing God Save The King. If I still want to sing that anthem, that is. I don't.
I do want to be able to sing our national anthem Majulah Singapura without the aid of a song sheet. Am I embarrassed that I cannot sing by heart our national anthem? After all, heart is where loyalty to the nation should reside.
I am not embarrassed or apologetic. Blame not any lack of patriotism on my part, blame the timing of my birth. I was born in 1938, when Singapore was a British colony.
Between 1946 and 1956, when I was in an English-stream mission school, there was no flag-raising or recitation of pledge or singing of anthem. Yet, even now, I can recall stanzas like 'God save our gracious Queen, Long live our noble Queen'.
The lyrics of Majulah Singapura are still not in my instant recall, but they are in my bag. My Tous sling bag from Spain, which I carry around most days, has a page photocopied from The Straits Times.
On the page from Jan 22, 2001 is a story headlined 'How to sing the anthem' complete with the lyrics. I am working at memorising the words in both our national language and the English translation.
I was a British subject - not a citizen - up to 1963, when I automatically became a Malaysian following Singapore's merger with the Federation of Malaya, Sabah and Sarawak.
In my second last year in secondary school, I joined the Malayan Air Training Corps (MATC). It was an adjunct of Britain's Royal Air Force (RAF) which had bases in Singapore. We were schoolboy cadets, learning a little military discipline and a lot about aviation.
My heart was set on becoming a fighter pilot with the RAF. There was no conscious desire to help defend Britain or its empire. What propelled me were thrilling schoolboy books about World War II.
My family was poor then and I would have had to travel at my own expense to England to try and sign up. It would not have been easy for a non-white, non-citizen to get selected for fighter aircraft training. But I was hopeful. Two Singapore-born men had made it as RAF pilots, an ethnic Chinese and an ethnic Malay.
Hopes rose when the MATC selected me for basic flying training. Then I was grounded, because I became short-sighted. I was devastated! That was in 1956, my last year in secondary school.
MATC commandant Johnny Behague, a wartime RAF wing commander who became The Straits Times' news editor, brought me into journalism after he heard that I had been grounded. I started as a part-time reporter, chasing stories after school when I should have been doing homework.
Then I won an essay competition and represented Singapore at the 1957 New York Herald Tribune World Youth Forum in the United States.
What an awakening about nationalism and geopolitics as well as the omnipresence of racial sensitivities and prejudices!
Back in Singapore, when I was interviewed by forum selectors, I was asked what I thought of the Chinese students' demonstrations against colonial policies that they felt were oppressive and anti- Chinese education and language.
I unthinkingly gave the colonial administration's line that the students were misled and were being exploited by communists or pro-communists. I hope I did not get to go to the forum only because of that!
In New York, in the company of 32 other teenagers from as many countries, I experienced passionate nationalism and powerful prejudices at close quarters. The animosity, even hatred, between the Arab delegates and Israel's representative was sad and scary at the beginning of our three months together.
Then, tentatively at first, picking up momentum at a snail's pace, friendliness between the Israeli and Arabs emerged.
One night, the Moroccan boy danced the rock and roll with the much taller Israeli girl and, spectacularly, swung her over hip and shoulder. She landed on her feet to boisterous, happy applause.
Their new-found friendliness had a dark overlay. I was told that when they got back to their respective homes, they probably would not be able to talk freely about how they had befriended an enemy even for just three months or less.
I had gone to the forum from Singapore where I had good friends who were Malay, Indian, Eurasian, European, Jewish and Chinese. Throwing racist taunts was part of our having fun together.
In America then - and even now - I had to be much more careful about how I talked about race. And America is the land of freedom of expression.
I say that without intending any disrespect for America. If I ever wanted to emigrate, it would be to the US.
But I have never wanted to emigrate, much to the surprise of many friends and even strangers. They asked numerous times: 'Why have you not emigrated?'
After Singapore's separation from Malaysia in 1965, I could write 'Singaporean' in the nationality section of bothersome immigration forms. I recalled my MATC days and my fighter-pilot dream.
I remembered that the People's Action Party (PAP) government disbanded the Malayan Auxiliary Air Force, whose pilots were all locals. And then it had to build up a Singapore air force. See what a confidence-boosting Republic of Singapore Air Force we have now. If only I were 18 again - and not short-sighted...
I was not angry when he said it, not angry only because he was a friend. But I felt a twitch of hurt when, talking about a National Day Parade fly-past by our fighter jets, he said with a distinct sneer: 'Did you know the pilots were all expats?'
I did not engage him on that point. But I would have said, if I did: 'So what? Foreign expertise and foreign help do get us going. And we will get there. We want to be home-grown but we also want to stay international.'
But that was years ago, when we had a new squadron of not-so-modern fighters.
Now our air force trains in top-of- the-line fighters and attack helicopters. But intensive training has to be done overseas, as we do not have much airspace. Being able to do it this way is a sweet mix of home-grown and foreign.
The Republic of Singapore Navy buys a new class of warship from overseas. The deal is that you build the first one or two, then help us build the rest of the flotilla. That is a sweeter mix of home-grown and foreign.
The Singapore Armed Forces has in their arsenal some awesome ground weapons, including those designed and made here. Singapore now exports such weapons even to countries from which we had bought arms. That is the sweetest - for now - mix of home-grown and foreign.
Here is another National Day Parade story from years back. What touched me most was the People's Defence Force contingent marching past. It was obviously not an elite fighting force. It was a bunch of volunteer soldiers. But I was so moved I decided to join the PDF. How would I fit that into my newsroom schedule?
While I wondered and procrastinated, the SAF remodelled the PDF. Modern warfare, the SAF felt, needed soldiers who were much more highly honed than PDF volunteers. But if there had been trouble and there was a general mobilisation, I know I would procrastinate no longer.
To many of us in Singapore newsrooms, Mr J.B.Jeyaretnam winning the Anson by-election in 1981 seemed to foretell trouble of one sort or another.
After the shock of the result and the inevitable aftershocks had subsided, I felt troubled hearing a government minister I highly respected saying more than once publicly that a working democracy did not need any opposition.
I was relieved when the Government demonstrated that it still believed Parliament had space for an opposition. So we now have Non-Constituency MPs and Nominated MPs. We continue to have elected opposition MPs.
We know that many Singaporeans who have emigrated have given as their main reasons the way the PAP leaders run the government, the restrictions on media and freedom of expression, the pressure on schoolgoing children and the emphasis on academic credentials.
Recently, at an Anglo-Chinese School Year of 1956 reunion, I was deeply touched hearing a former classmate say that he left Singapore almost totally disenchanted even though he was professionally qualified, that he spent years helping Singaporeans to emigrate, first doing it long-distance, then coming back on business trips to do just that.
Now he is home for good, or as good as it gets for people from my year, senior citizens in our late 60s or early 70s.
Has he come home because this is where he would want to die? No, he has come home because this is where he wants to live again.
I stepped down as editor-in-chief of Singapore Press Holdings' English and Malay-language newspapers in 1987 and became chief editor of The New Paper. I resigned from SPH in 1990 for a different lifestyle, a change after 33 years in a corporation.
What was it about the atmosphere in Singapore that, in 1987 and then 1990, friends and strangers alike would shake my hand, offer empathy or sympathy, best wishes as well as compliments about my journalism, and ask: 'Are you going to emigrate?'
I knew and I know my preferred emigration destinations, in this order: San Francisco, Kauai in Hawaii, Sydney. But I have never wanted to emigrate.
That statement would not bring tears to any Singaporean's eyes, not even the most patriotic. But a mention of emigration reportedly brought Mr Lee Kuan Yew 'close to tears' during the 1989 National Day Rally, when he was Prime Minister.
I came across the report earlier this week when helping to work on Chronicle Of Singapore, a book to be published later this year jointly by Editions Didier Millet and the National Library Board. The book recounts Singapore's 50 years from 1959 to 2009 through summary reports culled from newspapers and news magazines.
The report on the rally says Mr Lee came close to tears when he wondered aloud why young Singaporeans were emigrating. Emigration never occurred to him and his generation, he said, adding the question: Wasn't this their country?
Emigration of Singaporeans does not bring me close to tears, not because I do not feel for Singapore, but because I believe that no country should hold on to citizens against their will.
For some new Singaporeans, it was love at first sight when they arrived as foreigners. Others fell in love much more slowly.
Citizenship is not marriage. But, like marriage, it can cause estrangement which can lead to desertion and divorce. Let it be. There will be re-marriage situations, and there will be new citizens, so long as Singapore remains desirable.
Once, as a journalist covering one of Minister Mentor Lee's overseas trips when he was PM, he told the media why Singapore was such a splendid home. I thought of the 1960s country hit Green Green Grass Of Home. I used that line in my report, and the editors put it in the heading on Page 1.
When I got home, a colleague laughed and asked: 'Do you know what Green Green Grass Of Home is about? You'd better hope that LKY doesn't!'
Now I know, thanks to what my colleague said in the pre-Internet era and thanks this week to Wikipedia, from which I quote:
'The song is about a man who has been away from home for a while. He tells that he is returning to his small home town in the country. When he steps down from the train, he touches the green grass. His parents and 'sweet Mary' are there to welcome him...
'Then comes a spoken section where the singer awakens in prison: 'Then I awake and look around me, at four grey walls that surround me. And I realise that I was only dreaming.' The man is, in reality, awaiting his execution, and he will return home only when he is dead and buried: 'Yes, they'll all come to see me in the shade of that old oak tree, as they lay me 'neath the green, green grass of home'.'
I do not intend to commit any crime for which I will be executed. But wherever I die, I'd like to be brought home for cremation and my ashes scattered at sea just at the boundary of Singapore waters.
plimhl@pacific.net.sg
Peter H.L. Lim was SPH's editor-in-chief (English & Malay newspapers). He is now a writer and media consultant. Having worked with A*Star, Mr Lim, 70, would like this kind of career: fighter pilot, research scientist, journalist specialising in science writing and editing.
'The British will look after us'
'The British will look after us'
By Goh Chin Lian, Senior Political Correspondent
Mr Morrice recalls that during the early years of self-government, his platoon once protected temporary workers collecting night soil in Chinatown. -- ST PHOTO: ALPHONSUS CHERN
OFFICER cadet John Morrice was 250km away from home on the day Singapore proclaimed self-government in 1959.
He was 24 and learning tactics and jungle warfare from British trainers at a Malaysian military college in Port Dickson. The question of who would defend the island was moot for him in those days.
'We thought that if anything happens, the British will look after us,' recalls Mr Morrice, now 74 and a retired colonel from the Singapore Armed Forces.
The British at that time retained control of the island's external defence and foreign affairs. This was accepted, even welcomed, for it offered stability while the new Singapore leaders focused on battling unemployment and housing. Also, British naval dockyards and air bases in Singapore were a vital source of jobs for locals.
Singapore's dependence on British military presence would continue through independence in 1965. Then as domestic pressure in Britain mounted, its forces here were pulled out in 1971.
Decades on, Mr Morrice still regards the British with some fondness. This is a perspective shaped by his acquaintance with them early in life, which he describes in an account for the Oral History Department of the National Archives.
He recalls growing up in the servants' quarters of Government House, now the Istana, where his India-born father waited on British governors. On Fridays, the boy would sit on the floor of a hall, watching military film footage with Lord Louis Mountbatten, then Supreme Allied Commander of the South East Asia Command.
Lord Mountbatten later recommended him for the 1st Singapore Infantry Regiment (1 SIR) in 1957, when it was recruiting regular soldiers from the local populace.
He recalls the next two years at the Federation Military College in Port Dickson as a time of tough discipline under the British sergeant majors. They ordered hour-long marching drills under the afternoon sun for soldiers who failed to make beds or polish boots to their exacting standards.
And from monthly dinners with the commanders and their wives, he learnt table manners, ballroom dancing and the ways of a British gentleman-officer.
Back in 1 SIR's camp in Ulu Pandan, he joined one of the few local officers who soldiered alongside British commanders.
His commanding officer, one Colonel Jackson, invited him to his Mount Pleasant Road home on weekends for lunch.
'He looked after me like his own son,' Mr Morrice told Insight, saying his parents died months apart in 1959.
His close ties with the officers was a contrast, however, to the segregation he saw in tram cars where the front was reserved for whites and the rear for locals.
His own platoon was composed mainly of Malays. Many were former gangsters who stole durians and rambutans out of mischief, but they proved to be good fighters when it came to the crunch.
The largely Malay make-up of 1 SIR and also 2 SIR, formed in 1962, posed a security risk in independent Singapore, which was three-quarters Chinese. More non-Malays were later recruited.
In those early years of self-government, the most pressing threats were internal, as workers went on strike and secret societies thrived. Local soldiers augmented an overstretched police force.
Mr Morrice's platoon protected temporary workers collecting night soil in Chinatown in the early 1960s. City council workers, who used to do the job but had gone on strike, would attack them.
He would lead the way in a jeep with soldiers trailing him, followed by the temporary workers on lorries and more soldiers guarding the rear. 'It was like a Chinese funeral procession,' he recalls.
The external threat appeared in 1963, when Indonesia pursued a policy of 'konfrontasi' against British-backed Malaysia, of which Singapore was a part.
Unlike today's SAF troops who have not seen actual conflict, both regiments saw action against the Indonesians: 2 SIR defended Johor, while 1 SIR sailed to Sebatik Island off the coast of Sabah.
Mr Morrice later went on to command an SAF infantry brigade and serve as commandant of the SAFTI military institute, before retiring in 1983. He never expected his military career to turn out the way it did when he signed on as a young man. After all, the British had raised the two regiments to be part of the Malaysian armed forces.
In 1959, no one foresaw the accelerated British withdrawal of forces. Nor did anyone expect Singapore to become an independent nation, one that would build up its own defence force - and thrive.
chinlian@sph.com.sg
By Goh Chin Lian, Senior Political Correspondent
Mr Morrice recalls that during the early years of self-government, his platoon once protected temporary workers collecting night soil in Chinatown. -- ST PHOTO: ALPHONSUS CHERN
OFFICER cadet John Morrice was 250km away from home on the day Singapore proclaimed self-government in 1959.
He was 24 and learning tactics and jungle warfare from British trainers at a Malaysian military college in Port Dickson. The question of who would defend the island was moot for him in those days.
'We thought that if anything happens, the British will look after us,' recalls Mr Morrice, now 74 and a retired colonel from the Singapore Armed Forces.
The British at that time retained control of the island's external defence and foreign affairs. This was accepted, even welcomed, for it offered stability while the new Singapore leaders focused on battling unemployment and housing. Also, British naval dockyards and air bases in Singapore were a vital source of jobs for locals.
Singapore's dependence on British military presence would continue through independence in 1965. Then as domestic pressure in Britain mounted, its forces here were pulled out in 1971.
Decades on, Mr Morrice still regards the British with some fondness. This is a perspective shaped by his acquaintance with them early in life, which he describes in an account for the Oral History Department of the National Archives.
He recalls growing up in the servants' quarters of Government House, now the Istana, where his India-born father waited on British governors. On Fridays, the boy would sit on the floor of a hall, watching military film footage with Lord Louis Mountbatten, then Supreme Allied Commander of the South East Asia Command.
Lord Mountbatten later recommended him for the 1st Singapore Infantry Regiment (1 SIR) in 1957, when it was recruiting regular soldiers from the local populace.
He recalls the next two years at the Federation Military College in Port Dickson as a time of tough discipline under the British sergeant majors. They ordered hour-long marching drills under the afternoon sun for soldiers who failed to make beds or polish boots to their exacting standards.
And from monthly dinners with the commanders and their wives, he learnt table manners, ballroom dancing and the ways of a British gentleman-officer.
Back in 1 SIR's camp in Ulu Pandan, he joined one of the few local officers who soldiered alongside British commanders.
His commanding officer, one Colonel Jackson, invited him to his Mount Pleasant Road home on weekends for lunch.
'He looked after me like his own son,' Mr Morrice told Insight, saying his parents died months apart in 1959.
His close ties with the officers was a contrast, however, to the segregation he saw in tram cars where the front was reserved for whites and the rear for locals.
His own platoon was composed mainly of Malays. Many were former gangsters who stole durians and rambutans out of mischief, but they proved to be good fighters when it came to the crunch.
The largely Malay make-up of 1 SIR and also 2 SIR, formed in 1962, posed a security risk in independent Singapore, which was three-quarters Chinese. More non-Malays were later recruited.
In those early years of self-government, the most pressing threats were internal, as workers went on strike and secret societies thrived. Local soldiers augmented an overstretched police force.
Mr Morrice's platoon protected temporary workers collecting night soil in Chinatown in the early 1960s. City council workers, who used to do the job but had gone on strike, would attack them.
He would lead the way in a jeep with soldiers trailing him, followed by the temporary workers on lorries and more soldiers guarding the rear. 'It was like a Chinese funeral procession,' he recalls.
The external threat appeared in 1963, when Indonesia pursued a policy of 'konfrontasi' against British-backed Malaysia, of which Singapore was a part.
Unlike today's SAF troops who have not seen actual conflict, both regiments saw action against the Indonesians: 2 SIR defended Johor, while 1 SIR sailed to Sebatik Island off the coast of Sabah.
Mr Morrice later went on to command an SAF infantry brigade and serve as commandant of the SAFTI military institute, before retiring in 1983. He never expected his military career to turn out the way it did when he signed on as a young man. After all, the British had raised the two regiments to be part of the Malaysian armed forces.
In 1959, no one foresaw the accelerated British withdrawal of forces. Nor did anyone expect Singapore to become an independent nation, one that would build up its own defence force - and thrive.
chinlian@sph.com.sg
'We came out feeling very low, very sombre'
'We came out feeling very low, very sombre'
Mr Fong Swee Suan was one of eight leftist detainees freed on June 4, 1959, when the PAP came into power. -- ST FILE PHOTO
AN HOUR into the interview, Mr Fong Swee Suan falls silent for a few minutes.
He sits by the window in a Bukit Panjang flat, but his mind was far away.
The 77-year-old was remembering June 4, 1959, when he and seven leftist People's Action Party leaders were released from jail.
The freedom came after 31 months of being locked up by the British government for their involvement in leading anti-colonial strikes. Mr Lee Kuan Yew had made their release a condition for self-government on June 3.
But it was not euphoria that Mr Fong felt as he - along with others such as Mr Lim Chin Siong and future Singapore President Devan Nair - stepped out into the sunshine from the darkness of Changi Prison that morning at 8.02am.
'We came out feeling very low, very sombre,' he says quietly. 'There were 200 others locked up with us, but they were not released.'
'Tong ren, bu tong min,' he laments in Mandarin, meaning: 'We were the same people, but we had different fates.'
Among those who were left behind was his 'ai ren', or beloved in Mandarin, he reveals, referring to childhood friend Chen Poh Cheng, a fellow trade unionist whom he started dating in 1953. She was released a few months after him and they married in 1960.
Also heavy on the released detainees' minds were the numerous questions about Singapore's future.
'We were happy that finally, we were free from the British, but there was still so much uncertainty ahead,' he recalls.
Most critically, what should be Singapore's relationship with Malaya?
The pro-communists, Mr Fong and Mr Lim , were among those who objected to a merger with Malaya. The power struggle within the PAP climaxed in 1961 when they broke away and formed the Barisan Sosialis. Two years later, Mr Fong was detained, for a third time, under Operation Cold Store, till 1967.
But before that, the release of the eight men on June 4 and a subsequent statement in support of PAP's objective to create an 'independent, democratic, non-communist and socialist Malaya' were important in cementing the legitimacy of the fledgling PAP government, particularly in the eyes of the Chinese-educated.
As Mr Lee put it in his memoirs, The Singapore Story, 'we had done some hard thinking...and concluded that Lim Chin Siong and company must be released from prison before we took office, or we would lose all credibility.'
Reflecting on the past, Mr Fong says: 'Whether we, the leftists, were right or not, we were just concerned about the future generations of our country.
'What we wanted was a more equal society, to fight for a better life for the people. We were idealists. If there was no national consciousness, the country would not survive.'
He reckons that though they eventually lost in the battle of ideas, he did contribute to Singapore.
After the detainees' release in 1959, the trade unionist was appointed political secretary to the Minister of Labour and Law. 'I used my expertise to settle numerous industrial disputes through negotiation and mediation,' he says.
'Thus, I helped the PAP government maintain industrial peace and harmony, which were the essential conditions for industrial expansion.'
Today, Mr Fong and Madam Chen live with their eldest daughter, an architect, and her family. They have three children.
The political turmoil of the past seems a lifetime away, as Mr Fong, slightly bent but still lucid, digs into his memories.
Marked with a gentlemanly demeanour, he recalls of former political rivals like Mr Devan Nair: 'We had ideological differences but they were not personal.'
For instance, when Mr Nair died in 2005, Mr Fong attended his memorial service in Singapore.
Today, he continues to meet some of the PAP old guard for dinner. But he asked that their names not be published.
'They may not like it,' he says with a smile.
LI XUEYING
How the PAP won over the Malays
How the PAP won over the Malays
By Zakir Hussain, Political Correspondent
Mr Othman (left) and Mr Lee walking into the Victoria Theatre on July 19, 1964, for a meeting with Malay leaders, who reaffirmed their support for the PAP Government. -- ST FILE PHOTO
THE crowd of 50,000 at the Padang was jubilant. Facing them, Mr Othman Wok introduced their new leaders.
He was the evening's master of ceremonies. But midway, his party boss intervened.
'Mr Lee Kuan Yew asked me to sit down and let the radio announcers do it,' recalls the 84-year-old with a chuckle.
The order was not an indictment of his ability. It was to show party solidarity.
The People's Action Party (PAP) had achieved a historic victory. It had won 43 out of the 51 seats in the island's first legislative assembly election and was to form the first Government helmed by locals in colonial Singapore.
All 51 PAP candidates - including those who lost - were seated on the City Hall steps to celebrate Singapore's transition to a self-governing state.
For Mr Othman, then a 35-year-old newspaper editor, the rally on June 3, 1959, was a night of bittersweet moments.
Four days earlier, on May 30, 1959, Mr Ali Alwi of the United Malays National Organisation (Umno) had defeated him in Kampong Kembangan, by 244 votes.
Malays in the ward were highly suspicious of the PAP.
Recalling the odds, he says: 'No Malay would volunteer to help in my campaign.
'My wife and relatives helped me put up the election posters. But all the posters were torn down. Some were smeared with human excreta. When I went house to house with pamphlets, they looked at me and said '(This is a) Malay kampung', and tore them up in my face.'
Mr Othman had joined PAP shortly after its founding in 1954. A deputy editor of the now-defunct Utusan Melayu, a Malay-language daily, he was swiftly asked to join the editorial team of the PAP's newsletter, Petir.
Though the PAP was viewed by the Malays as a Chinese party that held little regard for Malay interests, Mr Othman was convinced it would help improve the lot of his community.
He wanted his people to become educated and make good on their own merit, as opposed to receiving handouts or being given special privileges.
It was not a popular view.
PAP candidates in two other Malay-dominated wards - Geylang Serai and Southern Islands - were also beaten by Umno men.
Undeterred, Mr Othman went on to help residents in the Kampong Kembangan constituency even though he had lost there.
'We had said that if the PAP won the election and formed the Government, we would deliver what we had promised to the whole of Singapore, including the constituencies where we lost,' he said.
For months, no Malays turned up at his weekly Meet-The-People sessions held on the verandah of a Chinese resident's house in Jalan Lapang.
But Chinese and Indian residents turned up, seeking help with citizenship, jobs and financial matters.
Much later, an Umno man showed up, to discuss clogged drains, mosquitoes, potholes and the lack of street lighting.
'I told him I would look into this problem, but suggested he also get the kampung folk to gotong royong - work together - with my branch chaps, who were mainly Chinese,' says Mr Othman.
'I told him to go back and discuss it with his kampung folks. Two weeks later, he came back and said they agreed.'
Over several Sundays, they helped clear the drains and repair a number of dirt roads, and once-hostile constituents began to develop a relationship with their PAP man.
Their elected Umno MP was not around.
After Mr Othman was posted to Kuala Lumpur in 1961 to work at Utusan Melayu's head office, the party asked Mr Ariff Suradi, a trade unionist, to look after the ward.
Mr Ariff won the seat handsomely in the 1963 general election, defeating incumbent MP Ali Alwi by 3,435 votes.
In that election, Mr Othman was fielded in Pasir Panjang, where he won. He went on to serve as minister for social affairs from 1963 to 1977.
The PAP's win in Kembangan, and in the other two largely Malay seats, annoyed Umno.
Mr Othman said several of its leaders went on to incite racial tensions, sparking the July 21, 1964 riots, a blot on Singapore's history.
Significantly, Mr Othman says self-government in 1959 enabled Malay Singaporeans to uplift themselves - alongside their countrymen - through education so they could claim an equal share in the country's development.
'Kuan Yew told me: 'Othman, have no worries. In the next 30 years, the Malays in Singapore and the Malays in Malaysia will have the same colour of hair, same colour of skin, same religion, but inside here (pointing to his head) different, the way of thinking,'' he recalls.
'He's right. We Malays in Singapore are now more open-minded, not like before. That communal feeling is all gone.'
A future President's apprehension
A future President's apprehension
By Li Xueying, Political Correspondent
Mr Nathan, director of the Labour Research Unit, receiving the Public Service Star in 1964 from Yang di-Pertuan Negara Yusof Ishak. -- ST FILE PHOTO
AN ENERGETIC man of 35, Mr SR Nathan weaved his way through the crowds with apprehension, feeling like a stranger in his homeland where he was born and bred.
Thousands of Singaporeans had gathered in front of the City Hall steps on that evening of June 3, 1959, jubilant at the onset of self-government.
But Mr Nathan - while exuberant that Singapore was 'halfway to independence' - felt a sense of foreboding.
'In the crowds that milled around City Hall, I found myself a stranger,' he says. 'This milling crowd was sometimes hostile in appearance and hostile in demeanour. And they were all PAP supporters.'
Now the President of Singapore, MrNathan remembers clearly the uncertainty of those days through decidedly non-rose-tinted glasses.
Then, he was welfare officer to seamen, administering to their needs, which range from wages to discipline matters.
These seamen were 'tough people, not English-educated'. But they accepted Mr Nathan - who himself was 'non-racial' - as 'one of them'.
But what he felt that night about the crowd of mainly Chinese was a 'body language of hostility'.
'There was a certain aggressiveness, a what the hell were you doing here (attitude),' he recounts.
'It set me thinking of the days immediately after the war, when with the coming of the MPAJA (Malayan People's Anti-Japanese Army) in town, the behaviour of people changed. And there was strong chauvinistic conduct, which was later tempered down.
'So my main preoccupation was, what awaited us? Will we be overwhelmed by this crowd, and their behaviour?'
It did not help when Dr Goh Keng Swee made a speech at the rally, warning the English-educated that the special privileges they enjoyed under the British was to come to an end.
For civil servants like Mr Nathan, it came as a blow.
Mr Nathan, who held a diploma in social studies from the University of Malaya, says: 'Disappointment set in with Dr Goh's remarks. I was not sure if what he was telling was meant to be taken as a message that we were going to be shunted away.'
The message 'might have been well-intended', he acknowledges. But it was expressed at 'the wrong place, at the wrong time'.
Says Mr Nathan: 'We were part of this place. We joined in the struggle. We shared everything. And suddenly to feel alienated and to have this remark come in at that time...(there was a) negative effect on us. After all, we have been the mainstay, we ran the administration.'
Alarmed by the message, many Indian and Eurasian families emigrated.
Indeed, that very night, one of Mr Nathan's friends - a Straits Times journalist - sold his house in Serangoon Gardens and left for Australia.
But he himself did not contemplate it.
He says: 'You see, we have been here for three generations; we had very little contact with India.'
But what he did consider was leaving the civil service.
In the ensuing months, party cadre members were haughty towards the civil servants, he discloses.
'They'd come around and ask, why haven't you done this, why haven't you done that, why are you giving priority to this person...and all sorts of petty, petty things.
'So it was very frustrating for those of us working on the ground, dealing with human problems.'
Many considered leaving the service for the private sector, he says. 'But at that stage, we learnt that within the PAP, there was a division and that there were moves in line with our thinking...and we decided to give up any idea of looking for a job.'
So it was a time of transition, one 'marked with so much uncertainty that I can't say that I was looking ahead with great hope'.
'It was only when the split came and the struggle was really on, that there was some hope.'
Ultimately, despite those initial uncertainties, June 3, 1959, was an important milestone in Singapore's history, says Mr Nathan.
'The immediate problem of being a colony had ended. We were on the way to being independent. And a new phase of our existence had come into play.'
MR SR NATHAN, 84
2009: President of Singapore
1959: Welfare officer for seafarers
'When internal self-government was announced, I saw it as a new beginning. But my first reaction...was a mixed one. There was exuberance on our part that this had been achieved, we were halfway towards independence.
'But in the (mainly Chinese) crowds that milled around City Hall, I found myself a stranger. This milling crowd was sometimes hostile in appearance and hostile in demeanour.
'So my main preoccupation was, what awaited us? Will we be overwhelmed by this crowd, and their behaviour?'
MR LEE HSIEN LOONG, 57
2009: Prime Minister of Singapore
1959: Primary 2 student at Nanyang Primary School
'We did not have National Education classes, but our whole society was in ferment, caught up in the excitement of the anti-colonial struggle. Major events were taking place which affected all our lives.
'Those my age, and older, will remember 1959 not only as the year we attained self-government, but also the year when the PAP first came into power.
'But for many younger ones, 1959 does not immediately ring a bell. Yet it was an important milestone on the road to separation and independence in 1965. We should not let this 50th anniversary of self-government pass unnoticed.
'Half a century ago, Singapore embarked on a journey which led, through many twists and turns, to where we are today.'
MR CHAN CHEE SENG, 77
2009: Chairman of a company running a Singapore international school in China
1959: PAP legislative assemblyman for Jalan Besar
'We were quite excited because we were on the winning side, and not squatting by the roadside in the governing of our own country.
'Our leader Lee Kuan Yew had succeeded in leading us on the road to independence. Previously, the British were running the show and there was high unemployment, bad housing, etc. So we had to get our act together and look at how we could solve these problems.'
MR FONG SWEE SUAN, 77
2009: Retired businessman
1959: Chinese-educated unionist, anti-colonial activist and founding member of the PAP who was detained in Changi Prison by the British
'That day, June 3, we were in Changi Prison, wondering how will Lee Kuan Yew treat us when we come out? Will our supporters still support us?
'We were happy that we had achieved self-government. But it was not yet independence. It was the first step of a long journey.'
MR TAN KOK KIONG, 68
2009: Lawyer and vice-chairman (education committee) in Singapore Hokkien Huay Kuan
1959: Chung Cheng High School student
'The English-educated were the privileged class then. So long as they had a Cambridge certificate, they had very good pay. They also had other benefits - for instance, the civil servants were provided with transport at pick-up points.
'Dr Goh Keng Swee's speech was a wake-up call to them, that times have changed and they should identify themselves with the rest of society.'
MR LEE KOON SENG, 85
2009: Operations manager at Banquet chain of foodcourts
1959: Businessman running a chemical business
'The day we got self-government was an important day. I remember staying up with my family to listen to the announcement on radio.
'But I went to work the next day to take care of my business. Like most Chinese in Singapore, at that time what was most important was our business.
'I was happy. All the while we were thinking of being independent, of having a country. We could now have a country.'
MR WU SERK, 84
2009: Retired
1959: Chinese teacher in Pei Hwa School in Bukit Timah
'I was very happy when I knew we were getting self-government. We wanted independence, to have 'Merdeka'. Being self-governing was different but it was one step closer to no more colonialism.
'I went to the rally at the Padang with a group of my friends. A lot of people were there by the time I got there.
'We were all in the mood for celebration and I remember the moment we all shouted 'Merdeka'. It was a great day.'
MR DOUGLAS MILLER, 87
2009: Retired. Died on May 4 in Perth, a week after he was interviewed by The Straits Times
1959: An archivist for the British Special Branch
'I don't remember if it was a public holiday or not but it was a holiday atmosphere. It was something to be cherished. Here was our country now taking the full responsibility, knowing fully well we had nothing, no hinterland, nothing, we only had manpower and the brains, the leaders.
'There were a lot of events going on like the rally on the day itself, but we did not participate. In a way we were involved in it by giving the feedback on what was going on, little disturbances here and there. The concern was to make sure there was racial harmony and peace, make sure the harmony was not disrupted, because a small thing could have sparked things off.'
DR TAN ENG YOON, 81
2009: Retired
1959: Teacher in St Joseph's Institution and a national athlete
'It was in December of 1959 that we had our first-ever South-east Asian Peninsular Games. I won the gold medal in 400m hurdles at 2.30pm. We had self-government then and it was the first time in history 'Majulah Singapura' was played outside Singapore. Half an hour later, weightlifter Tan Howe Liang won his gold medal. I just beat him to it.
'It was a great honour and a great feeling to be the first and to represent the country. It was definitely a different winning feeling from the competitions before that.'
MR NARAYANA NARAYANA, 82
2009: Retired
1959: Stockbroker
'The mostly middle-class and English-educated were generally apathetic to the event, and it was common for them to shout 'mentega' (Malay for butter) for 'Merdeka' (freedom) which was the clarion call of the day.'
MR J.M. JUMABHOY, 90
2009: Retired
1959: Minister for Commerce and Industry in the Labour Front government (He lost a five-cornered fight to the PAP candidate in the 1959 election)
'It was an important day because it was an opening for us to go ahead to get full independence one day.
'Calling it self-governing was not really true, it was only partly self-governing. There was not the same fear as there was when we separated from Malaysia. It was almost status quo, except there was an internal fight within the PAP with the communists.
'This fight with the communists was another reason that day was important. We did not know then whether Lee Kuan Yew would succeed or not, but at least we knew he was someone who knew the communists, had seen their tactics and was determined to fight. If Lee Kuan Yew had lost in the May 30, 1959 election and the PAP had been proscribed, Singapore would have been finished. The communists would have taken over.'
1. WEDDING
THEN: A couple emerges from a mass wedding ceremony organised by the Hokkien Huay Kuan at Thian Hock Keng Temple in Telok Ayer Street.
The clan association, founded in 1840 to look after the welfare of immigrants from China's Fujian province and educate Hokkien children, was famous for organising iconic mass weddings in the 1950s for couples on a tight budget. Telok Ayer Street also used to face the sea.
NOW: A couple poses for wedding photos at the Marina Barrage. Some, in search of a novel venue, even hold their wedding reception there.
The barrage, opened last year, is a dam built across the 350m-wide Marina Channel to keep out sea water and turn the bay into a freshwater reservoir to provide for Singapore's growing water needs.
2. HOUSES
THEN: These flats in Upper Pickering Street are built by the Singapore Improvement Trust (SIT), set up in 1927 to house lower-income residents living near the city centre. The flats have since been torn down, but SIT flats can still be found in Tiong Bahru.
NOW: These flats in Jalan Besar are built by the Housing and Development Board (HDB), which was formed in 1960 to deal with the dire housing shortage. It took just over three years to outbuild the 23,019 units the SIT completed in its 32 years of existence. In the next few decades, the HDB resettled Singaporeans from urban slums and rural kampungs areas into spanking new towns across the island. A total of 82 per cent of residents live in public housing today.
THEN: These flats in Upper Pickering Street are built by the Singapore Improvement Trust (SIT), set up in 1927 to house lower-income residents living near the city centre. The flats have since been torn down, but SIT flats can still be found in Tiong Bahru.
NOW: These flats in Jalan Besar are built by the Housing and Development Board (HDB), which was formed in 1960 to deal with the dire housing shortage. It took just over three years to outbuild the 23,019 units the SIT completed in its 32 years of existence. In the next few decades, the HDB resettled Singaporeans from urban slums and rural kampungs areas into spanking new towns across the island. A total of 82 per cent of residents live in public housing today.
3. TRANSPORTATION
THEN: Roads are often choked with vehicles emitting noxious fumes. Traffic jams are made worse by the inevitable roundabout found at the junction of many key roads in the city.
Buses and cars are not air-conditioned. Vehicles are often old and fumes from their faulty exhaust are the bane of pedestrians. But no one seems to notice the harmful smoke polluting the air.
NOW: An air-conditioned MRT train pulls into Lakeside station in Jurong West. Like many stations, it has an adjoining bus stop. making for swift and seamless travel.
Few cabs and public buses are without air-conditioning. Many roundabouts are gone. But Electronic Road Pricing gantries have come up. They are to prevent congestion on popular roads, so motorists are charged for travelling on them during peak hours.
4. SCHOOLS
THEN: Classrooms like the one in this Chinese middle school in the 1950s are basic, with wooden desks and benches. Many schools are set up and funded by businessmen, clan associations, philanthropists and religious groups. Education is not compulsory, but classrooms are often overcrowded.
NOW: Classes like this one at Kranji Primary School have shrunk from 40 to 30 children in a class. This allows teachers to devote more time to the children.
With fewer desks and chairs in a classroom, there is more space for group activities for learning. Education is compulsory and the Government will spend $8.7 billion on education this financial year. By 2013, it expects to spend $11 billion.
5. MARKETS
THEN: Street markets in areas like Chinatown are where most residents in Singapore buy their daily necessities. Individuals run mobile stalls that sell a range of fruits, vegetables, meats and dried goods.
The market is at its busiest in the morning. If hygiene is an issue, it is lost on everyone.
NOW: Late-night shoppers at the 24-hour FairPrice Xtra Hypermart in Jurong Point, one of Singapore's largest suburban retail malls.
Late-night shopping is a hit with Singaporeans, with major supermarket chains introducing round-the-clock outlets to cater to night owls and a 24/7 lifestyle. Also, every Friday and Saturday, many shops and department stores in the city stay open late, till 11pm.
6. HONG LIM PARK
THEN: Crowds at the first pre-election rally held by the Liberal Socialist Party on March 15, 1959, at Hong Lim Green. The park is the first public garden, created by Hokkien businessman and philanthropist Cheng Hong Lim in 1885. In the 1950s and 1960s, it was the venue for many spirited election rallies and political speeches.
NOW: Mr Tan Kin Lian, former chief executive of insurance co-operative NTUC Income, addresses more than 500 people at the park's Speakers' Corner on Nov 15 last year. Mr Tan took up the cause of disgruntled investors in financial products linked to now-bankrupt investment bank Lehman Brothers, which have since become worthless.
Speakers' Corner, set up in 2000, is for citizens to make public speeches without a permit. Since last September, outdoor demonstrations and events can be held there too.
Why 1959 matters - May 30 2009 ST
Why 1959 matters
The central theme of the 1959 election campaign was the people of S'pore against privileged elites
By Thum Ping Tjin
THE significance of 1959 has faded out of our popular consciousness. Other dates and events, most notably 1942 and 1965, have surpassed our recognition of 1959 as a turning point in Singapore's history.
Yet to be alive at the time was to live amid one of the most exciting, eventful years of Singapore's history.
Singapore's economy had finally emerged from the post-Korean War slump. New technology, epitomised by the launch of Sputnik in 1958 and the opening of the first commercial nuclear power plant in Sellafield, England in 1956, promised to revolutionise the way people lived.
The opening of Nanyang University in 1958 heralded the availability of higher education for all who desired it. In a state which boasted one of Asia's highest standards of living, education and medical care, the choices and possibilities open to people seemed limitless.
The problem, of course, was that the benefits of the technological and economic transformations that were reshaping the world had, in Singapore, been largely monopolised by the privileged colonial and commercial elite.
The vast majority of Singapore's population still lived in relative poverty, with no social welfare provisions amid a severe housing shortage.
They could not afford private health care and queued long hours for treatment at one of Singapore's public hospitals. There were not enough jobs being created to meet the numerous young adults entering the workforce every year.
Singapore's economy was still dependent on trade, chiefly the export of rubber and tin, and buffeted by the fluctuations in world commodity prices.
Yet the successes of Singapore's first partially elected government had demonstrated how electoral democracy could produce a government that was responsive to the people and governed on behalf of all the people, and not just the elites.
The Labour Front government, led first by Mr David Marshall and then by Mr Lim Yew Hock, produced a number of very important legislation that would have a profound effect on Singapore, including the creation of the Central Provident Fund and the Housing and Development Board.
Mr Marshall introduced Meet-the-People Sessions, forcing government officials and civil servants to come face to face with the public they were supposed to be serving.
The public crammed themselves into the Legislative Assembly gallery to listen to the intense debate between Mr Marshall and the then leader of the opposition, Mr Lee Kuan Yew. Their intelligent and informed verbal sparring was a clear sign to the world that the maturing Singaporean democracy was vibrant and productive.
Meanwhile, the people of Singapore had learnt to take responsibility for their own future. They organised themselves into political parties, trade unions and social action groups.
Capable and determined, they forced the colonial authorities to recognise that the continued promise of laissez-faire economic growth would no longer be enough.
The people were thirsting for their own rights and freedoms and would not be dissuaded from winning them.
In the face of scepticism and discouragement by the colonial authorities, Nanyang University, the people's university, was created.
It was organised by private enterprise and funded by donations from Singaporeans from all walks of life. It was the first state-wide popular campaign in Singapore's history, and served notice to the colonial government that if it would not provide for Singapore, Singaporeans would provide for it themselves.
Even so, there was much left to be done. The British government had held Malaya captive to global capitalism, minimising industrialisation to maximise production of raw materials, which they sold on the world market to finance the post-war reconstruction of Britain. It was widely recognised within the Federation and Singapore that industrialisation was needed to stabilise the local economy and create jobs.
As long as Britain held the levers of power, they would squeeze every last drop out of Malaya's rubber trees and tin mines, and Malaya would continue to be buffeted by the vagaries of the international commodity market.
Only fully self-governing states could hope to begin the process of economic development that the economies of the federation and Singapore needed.
Meanwhile, secret societies continued to rule the streets. Corruption and inefficiency infested the government and civil service. Most of all, the question of Singapore's complete independence, reunification with the Malayan mainland and the continuation of its democratic government needed to be addressed.
With so much at stake, the May 1959 election campaign was the most open and hotly contested in Singapore's history.
A total of 194 people, including nine women, contested Singapore's 51 constituencies, with up to seven people contesting each seat.
The parties campaigned on economic development, clean and efficient government, and safety and security for Singaporeans. The central theme of the campaign was the people of Singapore against the privileged elites.
Every party sought to claim the mantle of the people's voice. The People's Action Party (PAP) fielded many candidates from blue-collar professions, including farmers, barbers, carpenters and a seamstress.
The PAP's resounding victory, on a whopping 92.9 per cent turnout, cut across ethnic, religious and class lines.
It was more than just a victory for a well-run political party. Singapore was now a fully functioning democracy, where the rights of the people would be protected and their interests attended to.
The government was not only fully elected with complete internal control, vested with responsibility for the care of the people, but was also led by a party which was in touch with and represented the interests of the common people.
Singapore still faced an uncertain future, but now Singaporeans had control of their own destinies.
A new epoch had begun. Anything was possible. The future was, at long last, the Singaporean's very own.
pingtjin.thum@history.ox.ac.uk
Thum Ping Tjin, 29, is a doctoral candidate and teaches South-east Asian history at Oxford University.
The central theme of the 1959 election campaign was the people of S'pore against privileged elites
By Thum Ping Tjin
THE significance of 1959 has faded out of our popular consciousness. Other dates and events, most notably 1942 and 1965, have surpassed our recognition of 1959 as a turning point in Singapore's history.
Yet to be alive at the time was to live amid one of the most exciting, eventful years of Singapore's history.
Singapore's economy had finally emerged from the post-Korean War slump. New technology, epitomised by the launch of Sputnik in 1958 and the opening of the first commercial nuclear power plant in Sellafield, England in 1956, promised to revolutionise the way people lived.
The opening of Nanyang University in 1958 heralded the availability of higher education for all who desired it. In a state which boasted one of Asia's highest standards of living, education and medical care, the choices and possibilities open to people seemed limitless.
The problem, of course, was that the benefits of the technological and economic transformations that were reshaping the world had, in Singapore, been largely monopolised by the privileged colonial and commercial elite.
The vast majority of Singapore's population still lived in relative poverty, with no social welfare provisions amid a severe housing shortage.
They could not afford private health care and queued long hours for treatment at one of Singapore's public hospitals. There were not enough jobs being created to meet the numerous young adults entering the workforce every year.
Singapore's economy was still dependent on trade, chiefly the export of rubber and tin, and buffeted by the fluctuations in world commodity prices.
Yet the successes of Singapore's first partially elected government had demonstrated how electoral democracy could produce a government that was responsive to the people and governed on behalf of all the people, and not just the elites.
The Labour Front government, led first by Mr David Marshall and then by Mr Lim Yew Hock, produced a number of very important legislation that would have a profound effect on Singapore, including the creation of the Central Provident Fund and the Housing and Development Board.
Mr Marshall introduced Meet-the-People Sessions, forcing government officials and civil servants to come face to face with the public they were supposed to be serving.
The public crammed themselves into the Legislative Assembly gallery to listen to the intense debate between Mr Marshall and the then leader of the opposition, Mr Lee Kuan Yew. Their intelligent and informed verbal sparring was a clear sign to the world that the maturing Singaporean democracy was vibrant and productive.
Meanwhile, the people of Singapore had learnt to take responsibility for their own future. They organised themselves into political parties, trade unions and social action groups.
Capable and determined, they forced the colonial authorities to recognise that the continued promise of laissez-faire economic growth would no longer be enough.
The people were thirsting for their own rights and freedoms and would not be dissuaded from winning them.
In the face of scepticism and discouragement by the colonial authorities, Nanyang University, the people's university, was created.
It was organised by private enterprise and funded by donations from Singaporeans from all walks of life. It was the first state-wide popular campaign in Singapore's history, and served notice to the colonial government that if it would not provide for Singapore, Singaporeans would provide for it themselves.
Even so, there was much left to be done. The British government had held Malaya captive to global capitalism, minimising industrialisation to maximise production of raw materials, which they sold on the world market to finance the post-war reconstruction of Britain. It was widely recognised within the Federation and Singapore that industrialisation was needed to stabilise the local economy and create jobs.
As long as Britain held the levers of power, they would squeeze every last drop out of Malaya's rubber trees and tin mines, and Malaya would continue to be buffeted by the vagaries of the international commodity market.
Only fully self-governing states could hope to begin the process of economic development that the economies of the federation and Singapore needed.
Meanwhile, secret societies continued to rule the streets. Corruption and inefficiency infested the government and civil service. Most of all, the question of Singapore's complete independence, reunification with the Malayan mainland and the continuation of its democratic government needed to be addressed.
With so much at stake, the May 1959 election campaign was the most open and hotly contested in Singapore's history.
A total of 194 people, including nine women, contested Singapore's 51 constituencies, with up to seven people contesting each seat.
The parties campaigned on economic development, clean and efficient government, and safety and security for Singaporeans. The central theme of the campaign was the people of Singapore against the privileged elites.
Every party sought to claim the mantle of the people's voice. The People's Action Party (PAP) fielded many candidates from blue-collar professions, including farmers, barbers, carpenters and a seamstress.
The PAP's resounding victory, on a whopping 92.9 per cent turnout, cut across ethnic, religious and class lines.
It was more than just a victory for a well-run political party. Singapore was now a fully functioning democracy, where the rights of the people would be protected and their interests attended to.
The government was not only fully elected with complete internal control, vested with responsibility for the care of the people, but was also led by a party which was in touch with and represented the interests of the common people.
Singapore still faced an uncertain future, but now Singaporeans had control of their own destinies.
A new epoch had begun. Anything was possible. The future was, at long last, the Singaporean's very own.
pingtjin.thum@history.ox.ac.uk
Thum Ping Tjin, 29, is a doctoral candidate and teaches South-east Asian history at Oxford University.
Struggle for self-rule Timeline - ST May 30
Struggle for self-rule
July 3, 1947: Election Bill is passed, with first poll to be held in 1948. Voters can elect six members to the Legislative Council.
March 20, 1948: First election, with half of the six seats won by the Singapore Progressive Party (SPP), made up of European and English-educated businessmen and professionals. It is not keen on immediate self-government
April 10, 1951: Second election (above), with the number of elected seats raised from six to nine. The SPP, which won two-thirds of the seats, aims to gain self-government by 1963.
July 21, 1953: Sir George Rendel (above, fourth from right) heads a commission to review the Constitution, with a view to giving Singapore more autonomy. The Rendel Commission recommends having a separate local government with a fully elected City Council, and for the central government, a 32-seat legislative assembly comprising 25 elected councillors. The British accept the proposal, with the next election called in 1955 to implement the Constitution.
April 2, 1955: The first Legislative Assembly election is contested by several new political parties. They include the People's Action Party (PAP) led by Mr Lee Kuan Yew, and the Singapore Labour Front led by Mr David Marshall. The Labour Front surprisingly wins the majority of seats, garnering 10 of them. Mr Marshall becomes Singapore's first chief minister. The PAP wins three out of four seats it contested.
April 23, 1956: First round of 'Merdeka' Talks starts, with Mr Marshall leading an all-party delegation to London to demand internal self-government by 1957. The talks break down as both sides cannot agree on one point: Who has the final say on defence issues? Mr Marshall resigns in June for failing to achieve self-rule, and his deputy Lim Yew Hock takes over.
March 11, 1957: Second round of talks is led by Mr Lim. The delegation accepts similar constitutional terms that the Marshall team had refused. Defence issues are solved, with the Federation of Malaya given the casting vote.
May 28, 1958: Constitutional Agreement is signed in London after the end of the third round of talks. It sets the stage for the 1959 election. The State of Singapore Act is passed in Britain to provide for self-government and Singapore citizenship.
May 30, 1959: The PAP, in opposition for the past four years, sweeps 43 out of 51 seats in polls to decide the first fully-elected, post-colonial Government.
May 31, 1959: A PAP conference, open only to cadres, is held at the Hokkien Huay Kuan in Kreta Ayer Street. The 500 cadres re-elect the moderates to the central executive committee.
June 1, 1959: Governor William Goode asks Mr Lee Kuan Yew to form the Government. Mr Lee repeats his party's condition: Release eight detained associates. They are: Lim Chin Siong, Fong Swee Suan, Devan Nair, S.Woodhull, J.Puthucheary, Chan Chiaw Thor, Chan Chong Kin and Chen Say Jame.
June 2, 1959: Governor Goode announces the eight detainees will be released two days later, breaking the impasse and averting a constitutional crisis.
June 3, 1959: At one minute past midnight, the Governor proclaims Singapore a self-governing state. At 8.30am, he takes office as Yang di-Pertuan Negara, or Head of State. PAP holds a mass rally at the Padang in the evening.
June 4, 1959: Eight PAP detainees are freed from Changi prison. PAP issues a statement signed by six, including hardliner Lim Chin Siong (above centre), that they support the PAP leadership's non-communist road.
June 5, 1959: Swearing-in of the Cabinet, including Mr Lee as Singapore's first Prime Minister. Its first action: Scrap the City Council.
Dec 3, 1959: Mr Yusof Ishak is sworn in as the first Malayan-born Yang di-Pertuan Negara, replacing Sir William Goode. On independence, Mr Yusof becomes the President.
July 20, 1961: The PAP leaders win a motion of confidence in the Government by one vote. The 13 pro-communist assemblymen who abstained or voted against the Government are expelled. They form the Barisan Sosialis.
Sept 1, 1962: In a referendum, 71 per cent vote for merger with Malaysia.
Sept 16, 1963: Singapore becomes a state in the Federation of Malaysia. A general election five days later sees the PAP win 37 seats, to Barisan's 13.
Aug 9, 1965: Singapore becomes independent after separating from Malaysia. At a press conference on TV, PM Lee calls on his people to remain firm and calm. TIMELINE COMPILED BY SUE-ANN CHIA
July 3, 1947: Election Bill is passed, with first poll to be held in 1948. Voters can elect six members to the Legislative Council.
March 20, 1948: First election, with half of the six seats won by the Singapore Progressive Party (SPP), made up of European and English-educated businessmen and professionals. It is not keen on immediate self-government
April 10, 1951: Second election (above), with the number of elected seats raised from six to nine. The SPP, which won two-thirds of the seats, aims to gain self-government by 1963.
July 21, 1953: Sir George Rendel (above, fourth from right) heads a commission to review the Constitution, with a view to giving Singapore more autonomy. The Rendel Commission recommends having a separate local government with a fully elected City Council, and for the central government, a 32-seat legislative assembly comprising 25 elected councillors. The British accept the proposal, with the next election called in 1955 to implement the Constitution.
April 2, 1955: The first Legislative Assembly election is contested by several new political parties. They include the People's Action Party (PAP) led by Mr Lee Kuan Yew, and the Singapore Labour Front led by Mr David Marshall. The Labour Front surprisingly wins the majority of seats, garnering 10 of them. Mr Marshall becomes Singapore's first chief minister. The PAP wins three out of four seats it contested.
April 23, 1956: First round of 'Merdeka' Talks starts, with Mr Marshall leading an all-party delegation to London to demand internal self-government by 1957. The talks break down as both sides cannot agree on one point: Who has the final say on defence issues? Mr Marshall resigns in June for failing to achieve self-rule, and his deputy Lim Yew Hock takes over.
March 11, 1957: Second round of talks is led by Mr Lim. The delegation accepts similar constitutional terms that the Marshall team had refused. Defence issues are solved, with the Federation of Malaya given the casting vote.
May 28, 1958: Constitutional Agreement is signed in London after the end of the third round of talks. It sets the stage for the 1959 election. The State of Singapore Act is passed in Britain to provide for self-government and Singapore citizenship.
May 30, 1959: The PAP, in opposition for the past four years, sweeps 43 out of 51 seats in polls to decide the first fully-elected, post-colonial Government.
May 31, 1959: A PAP conference, open only to cadres, is held at the Hokkien Huay Kuan in Kreta Ayer Street. The 500 cadres re-elect the moderates to the central executive committee.
June 1, 1959: Governor William Goode asks Mr Lee Kuan Yew to form the Government. Mr Lee repeats his party's condition: Release eight detained associates. They are: Lim Chin Siong, Fong Swee Suan, Devan Nair, S.Woodhull, J.Puthucheary, Chan Chiaw Thor, Chan Chong Kin and Chen Say Jame.
June 2, 1959: Governor Goode announces the eight detainees will be released two days later, breaking the impasse and averting a constitutional crisis.
June 3, 1959: At one minute past midnight, the Governor proclaims Singapore a self-governing state. At 8.30am, he takes office as Yang di-Pertuan Negara, or Head of State. PAP holds a mass rally at the Padang in the evening.
June 4, 1959: Eight PAP detainees are freed from Changi prison. PAP issues a statement signed by six, including hardliner Lim Chin Siong (above centre), that they support the PAP leadership's non-communist road.
June 5, 1959: Swearing-in of the Cabinet, including Mr Lee as Singapore's first Prime Minister. Its first action: Scrap the City Council.
Dec 3, 1959: Mr Yusof Ishak is sworn in as the first Malayan-born Yang di-Pertuan Negara, replacing Sir William Goode. On independence, Mr Yusof becomes the President.
July 20, 1961: The PAP leaders win a motion of confidence in the Government by one vote. The 13 pro-communist assemblymen who abstained or voted against the Government are expelled. They form the Barisan Sosialis.
Sept 1, 1962: In a referendum, 71 per cent vote for merger with Malaysia.
Sept 16, 1963: Singapore becomes a state in the Federation of Malaysia. A general election five days later sees the PAP win 37 seats, to Barisan's 13.
Aug 9, 1965: Singapore becomes independent after separating from Malaysia. At a press conference on TV, PM Lee calls on his people to remain firm and calm. TIMELINE COMPILED BY SUE-ANN CHIA
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