Biased Observer

Singapore coming of age in the 1950s means that now are the years where we see more and more political pioneers take their stories with them to the grave: Ong Teng Cheong, Wee Kim Wee, Devan Nair, just to name those from the past year. In following the passing of S. Rajaratnam on the news, I am again pained by how much of Singapore's founding and political history disappears with each death.

As it is, so much of what has happened in the past risks appearing to never have happened at all. I have a neighbour who stops by to chat with my parents a couple of times a year, coinciding with the times where his family's rambutan tree bears copious fruit. His story is like many in Singapore who walked through the gates of Nanyang University, it is a story that is passed from parents to children to grandchildren, but it is not a story that will be a documented part of Singapore's history. Unless you count the sanitised version that smites alumni and defenders of the real NanTah story.

According to the press, MP Irene Ng is working on a biography of Rajaratnam, but a commissioned book written long after the man had lost his mind is not quite the same. Maybe I'll be wrong, and I'd be glad if the resultant book is anything but another affirmation of every that went right. No country matures without rebellious, conflict-ridden years. It should not be whitewashed and Disney-fied. Struggles are what they are, the loss of published differing accounts and dissenting voices is a disservice to the future generations of Singaporeans.

I only hope that one day, we will see books written by those who were caught on the other side of the political struggle - not just perspectives from opposition parties like Barisan Socialis or The Worker's Party, but also from those who were on the losing side of internal ideological differences within the PAP. The fear that the governing party should never show dissent or cracks (as evinced even today through the wielding of the party whip and the absence of any proper debate whatsoever in Parliament) is a misplaced and increasingly dangerous one. Today's citizens aren't looking to the government for a show of solidarity and strength in tumultuous times. They want evidence that policies and decisions are made with a critical assessment of data and ample consideration of the desires, needs, and interests of Singaporeans. Serving up a blank wall of candidates parroting the official party line is patronising. Even if the decision is the right one, Singaporeans have no idea how the powers arrive at their decisions. For all the efforts in participatory governance through official feedback channels, there is scant evidence that it is anything more than a cosmetic application of openess.

Knowing what makes Singapore tick shouldn't be limited to party cadres. It shouldn't be a tale told just by one man. It is not the priviledge of one man, family, or party. Yet as time passes, the fate of Singapore's history hangs increasingly in the balance.

Let's hope it isn't too late to salvage the situation.