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Showing posts with label Singapore. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Singapore. Show all posts

Singapore: Missing the Forest for the Fees

Posted by moses @ 00:04 • , , , , • 0 comments


This post is a social commentary I wrote as the editor of sociopolitical site Inconvenient Questions.

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There is an inherent tension between preservation and development. Has Singapore leaned too much towards development in its quest for economic progress? Could this tendency have eroded Singaporeans’ sense of connection to their country?

A controversy over building the Cross Island MRT Line through part of Singapore’s Central Catchment Nature Reserve flared up recently. The government has promised to consult the public and conduct careful studies before arriving at a decision, but some are not convinced that it is willing to compromise on cost.

Yet others are asking why nature lovers are so up-in-arms about this issue. Should they not be supportive of the government’s balanced approach? Are they just being irrational treehuggers?

Facts and practical arguments aside, and indeed those are not yet settled at this point, I can understand the groundswell of anger at the prospect of damaging the nature reserve. The feeling of loss is something that Singaporeans have often experienced with regard to their surroundings, and it may not get any easier each time.

As a Singaporean, one of the strategies for coping with life in Singapore is not to get too attached to your surroundings. You may love that spot, that structure, that area or that forest; the next thing you know, they might have been altered permanently or even removed.

The reasons for this can be both public and private. Spiralling rental costs have eliminated some of our favourite haunts—places like Borders bookstore at Wheelock Place, for example. Property developers keen to ensure ever-increasing rents have also gone to great lengths to ‘upgrade’ and change familiar surroundings.

In other instances, the inexorable march of public machinery—literally and figuratively— have ripped the living proof of our memories out of existence, such as in the case of the old National Library building. If part of the Central Catchment Nature Reserve will ultimately be damaged by the construction of a new MRT line, who should really be surprised at that outcome?



 A casualty of the ever-forward march of progress: The old National Library building. (Photo: Timothy)

Sometimes we may wonder whether all this is necessary or unavoidable. Certainly, the
authorities would be inclined to say “Yes”: We cannot afford to stay still, and the desire for
preservation has to be balanced with the need for development.

But if almost no place and no sliver of sentimental attachment is sacred, if we must always
be prepared to sacrifice these things at the altar of economic progress, then who can blame
people for feeling little connection to the country they live in?

Could we seek solace in artistic forms of expression? Has much of that not also been
meticulously pruned away to satisfy both a pragmatic worldview and a narrow vision of an
orderly society? So where else can we anchor our desire for meaning in being Singaporean
that goes beyond just our location and our passports?

For many of us, the answer would be family and friends—we want to live in Singapore
because they are here. But people are more mobile than ever, and communications
technology is getting better by the day. Not being here or not having a Singapore passport
does not necessarily mean losing touch with family and friends.

We may need the time and opportunity to be attached to our surroundings in order to better
appreciate what it means to live here and to be ‘locals’. Top-down feel good campaigns or
spontaneous exhortations to shout “Majulah!” can feel empty and forced. As important, if
not more important, to our sense of identity as a people are natural outgrowths of sentiment
stemming from the places, customs and languages that we live with—things that have all
been affected by at least one official campaign or another.

As things stand, the relationship for many is merely a marriage of convenience—if we really
question ourselves, how many of us are here only because the country is safe and
prosperous? What happens when there is a better prospect out there?

It is not that we can always choose to preserve everything, or that some trade-off between
identity and growth is not necessary. However, we must recognise our national ideology for
what it is; and hard pragmatism does not come without a cost. When we wonder why, as
some people do, potentially more than 50% of Singaporeans want to leave or why many
would not die for the country, we should acknowledge that the lack of personal connection
may be a price our nation pays for taking this path.

 Top image created by Liyana Yeo; photo of MacRitchie Reservoir by RickDeye.

“If You Don’t Like It Here, Get Out!”

Posted by moses @ 20:45 • , , , • 0 comments


This post is a political commentary I wrote as the editor of sociopolitical site Inconvenient Questions. It also appeared on Yahoo News.

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Asking unhappy people to leave is a favourite debating tactic of some Singaporeans. If you care about Singapore, however, such an approach is ultimately counterproductive. It also goes against the grain of the Government’s current approach towards Singaporeans moving overseas.

That line above or something similar is what you would invariably see if you read enough comments about local issues on social media. It is the rebuttal of choice of some ‘patriots’, wielded against critics who are unhappy about one thing or another in this country.

Admittedly, the lure of greener pastures can be very tempting and many Singaporeans appear to think so. In a survey conducted in 2012, more than half of Singaporeans (56%, to be exact) say they would migrate if given a choice.

One could jump through hoops to explain away this result, or even question the credibility of the survey. But while it is debateable whether or not the majority of Singaporeans are really unhappy here, such a statistic should concern those who care about the future of our country. After all, what is left of a country when most of its people are no longer willing to stay?

This issue of commitment is even more salient for countries like ours that rely on regular citizens to maintain its security. Singapore’s deterrent against foreign aggression depends in large part on its relatively large reserve force comprising Singaporeans who have been called up for National Service. If we are not committed to defending the country when the need arises, the result could be disastrous. Thus, it is vital that Singaporeans of all stripes remain invested in the fate of our nation.

Hence, telling people to leave if they are unhappy is not a forward-thinking approach for those who really care about Singapore’s future. What any true patriot should be doing instead is to ask how they can keep as many Singaporeans as possible interested in, and engaged with, the country’s progress.


Abraham Lincoln once famously said, “A house divided against itself cannot stand.” (Photo: Wes Dickinson)

But there is another problem with asking people to leave: It also goes against the spirit of Government policy towards the issue of Singaporeans moving out.

In a recent trip to New York, Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong met with overseas Singaporeans there and told them to “Keep in touch with home, keep in touch with us… and one day come back home to Singapore.” His gentle exhortation is a long way away from then Prime Minister Goh Chok Tong’s rebuke – almost 15 years ago – calling some overseas Singaporeans “quitters”.  This new approach indicates that the Government is keen not on pushing Singaporeans out and cutting off ties, but on having us remain emotionally invested in our country even if we leave.

Indeed, the Government’s Overseas Singaporean Unit works with other agencies such as Contact Singapore to ensure that overseas Singaporeans are kept engaged. Considering that our Government has such a rational approach towards keeping Singaporeans as close to the country as possible – if not physically, then at least emotionally – should this not be supported by those who truly believe in the Government’s wisdom?

Finally, equality, a value that is mentioned in our national pledge, means everyone’s voice carries weight – even if you vehemently disagree with what some people say. Asking people to leave if they are unhappy is to deny that their voice matters and is therefore a rejection of equality. No matter how one looks at it, that cannot be the right or productive approach.

It must be said that political discussions among Singaporeans might not become much more rational or less acrimonious than they are now. Nevertheless, it is still better to talk to those who disagree than to ask them to get out of the country. After all, if there is no one left to debate politics and policies with, Singapore will probably be the poorer for it.

Immigration and the Singapore Identity

Posted by moses @ 20:15 • , , , • 0 comments


This post is a political commentary I wrote as the editor of sociopolitical site Inconvenient Questions. It also appeared on Yahoo News.

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The furore following Member of Parliament Denise Phua’s statement describing congregations of foreign workers as “walking time-bombs” reflects Singapore’s ambivalence towards the presence of foreigners. Representing her constituency of Jalan Besar, Ms Phua had proposed fencing off communal areas to keep foreign workers out, no doubt in response to concerns from local citizens. While our society needs the services of foreign workers, many Singaporeans are uneasy about the impact of their influx on matters ranging from safety to the condition of local culture.

So where do we go from here? To start with, perhaps it would be useful look at the example of the most well-known immigrant society of all – The United States of America.

A hundred years ago, immigrants first arriving at New York City would have disembarked in full view of the Statue of Liberty, a monument that Franklin D. Roosevelt honoured in 1936 as an icon of immigration. Today, 80 years later, aspiring American presidential candidate Donald Trump is able to capitalise on a groundswell of discontent with immigration for his campaign.

How did a nation of immigrants and the richest country in the world end up with this much disdain for something that lies at the foundation of its society?

The truth is (new) immigration has always been an issue among the American public. Recent immigrants have often been looked at as a threat to American values. If this sounds familiar to us in Singapore, that would be because the theme of cultural difference is universal. And, just as ironically, we too are a nation built on immigration.

By now, multiracialism and multiculturalism are no longer radical ideas. Yet many modern societies are struggling with the question of immigration, a perennial issue punctuated by shocks such as terrorism and the influx of refugees. In Singapore, where a nation of millions must live together in a tight space, this question is perhaps even more salient. Can our society handle large numbers of immigrants?

With the non-resident population making up slightly more than a quarter of the total population, Singaporeans are naturally concerned about the competition for jobs, the erosion of national identity and overcrowding. As the arrest of 27 Bangladeshi workers under the ISA reminds us, there are also concerns about security and the threat of radicalised groups or criminals finding their way into the country.

Most of these problems could be seen as matters of governance, things that can perhaps be left to experts and officials. However, something that our penchant for hard-headed policymaking and planning alone cannot resolve is the issue of Singapore’s culture and identity. We need to decide as a society what our culture and identity will look like in the coming decades, and this is a process that has no correct answers.


Foreign workers enjoying their break in Little India. (Photo: Nicky Loh)

There are three distinct paths that we can go down. One is the American ‘melting pot’ model of conflict and natural assimilation: There is little or no government intervention and immigrants are left to form self-reliant enclaves. Historically, these groups were often hostile to each other and to the ‘locals’, even spawning violent gangs that featured notorious characters such as Al Capone. Only after generations did these groups eventually assimilate into American society, becoming part of the tapestry of American culture with contributions such as Italian American cuisine and common Yiddish loanwords like ‘chutzpah’.

This path is the least likely to be deliberately chosen in Singapore due to our size and perceived vulnerability to any social instability or disharmony that might result.

The second way is to define what Singaporean culture and identity are and use them as benchmarks for ‘Singaporeanness’ in assimilating immigrants. This could be done by returning to classic or mythologised ideas of what it means to be Singaporean or by synthesising those ideas today. There is a tendency for members of the public to engage in this when they treat qualities such as the ability to speak Singlish correctly as identity markers and yardsticks for ‘Singaporeanness’. Similarly, when Member of Parliament Darryl David proposed that English proficiency should be a criterion for citizenship, he was essentially advocating the same path.

While it might be the most intuitive method for many Singaporeans, this path is also likely to be exclusionary as it sets a high bar for assimilation for immigrants, many of whom come from cultures that are very different from ours. If integration is a goal, this method might even make the process more difficult.

The third path is to include immigrants’ culture as part of a new and evolving Singaporean identity. This would entail fusing elements of the different cultures with local Singapore culture to create an inclusive model. For example, local languages and Singlish could expand to include Mainland Chinese, Filipino or Bangladeshi words, while food from the different immigrant communities could be included as staples of local cuisine.

From the perspective of integration, this would be the easiest path as it allows immigrants to retain their identity to some extent and feel a sense of familiarity towards local culture. However, in practice, it would likely encounter difficulties arising from resentment among local Singaporeans, many of whom might feel that the local culture is being watered down.

In the end, the likelihood is no matter how we go about trying to resolve the question of our culture and identity, our approach will end up being an amalgamation of these three paths. Nonetheless, one of them will likely be the dominant path, and that will determine much of what our sense of community and social fabric will be like in the decades to come.

It's Time

Posted by moses @ 05:00 • , , , , • 0 comments


With so many things that are happening and that have happened, I've decided to fire up my blog again.
Singapore is going into election day, and the media has been abuzz with election-related news and discussions. The parties in the opposition have received unprecedentedly positive attention this election cycle, and the role of social media in contemporary politics is undoubtedly the primary contributing factor.

My social media is full of messages in support of the opposition, although there certainly are enough supporters of the ruling party as well (especially the wealthier, conservative or typically apolitical people). It actually seems to have become quite a norm. And judging from the attendance at the opposition rallies, the sentiment on the ground is also pretty warm.

I think Singapore politics will see exciting days ahead. Like it or not, we are seeing a trend where we can expect more successful politicians to be those who have their ears closer to the ground. There are more debates among the public, and politicians of all stripes will have to be responsive to public sentiment, balancing traditional rationality with an appeal to citizens' passions.

But unlike conservative ideologues in Singapore, I will not hasten to trot out the label 'populism' here, because responsiveness and accountability to the electorate is part and parcel of a democratic system. 
Too often, modern audiences are fixated on procedural democracy—on the process of holding elections—as well as on the representative part of democracy. However, the traditional idea of democracy was not usually limited to having an elected aristocracy. In democratic thinking, the people are meant to have a say in how they are governed. There is populism, and then there is democracy; the latter does not necessarily translate to the former just because one party no longer has a free hand to rule as they see fit.

Understandably, many in Singapore will feel some trepidation about the opening of the floodgates. Are we as a society ready for the full democratic experience? Will we be able to maintain current levels of prosperity when the ruling party no longer dominates local politics with impunity?

No matter who is in charge, the future will remain uncertain. As the financiers say, past success is not indicative of future performance. For now, it's time to prepare ourselves for societal change.


Shadows of the past

Posted by moses @ 12:15 • , , , • 0 comments


Many things are more deterministic than we think. We are not so different from who we used to be. Even societies may persist with their old ways, unbeknownst to its members, long after the reins have changed hands.

Simply put, we are constrained by our past choices and directions—a phenomenon known as path dependency. We cannot simply change the direction in which we are moving at any time of our choosing because we cannot will away the present consequences and implications of the past.

Hence, while we often wonder why a problem cannot be fixed, the answer can be found in history.

Why is creativity and entrepreneurship so underdeveloped in this society, for example? That is to a large extent a colonial legacy. Colonial governments were focused on the extraction of resources and the development of trade in the colonies for the benefit of the empire. These required the establishment of strong bureaucracies and civil services to administrate the territories in a stable and efficient way. Hence, education in a colony was geared towards training local elites to be obedient but skilled administrators, not towards developing critical thinkers, leaders and entrepreneurs. This system was then found to be convenient by the new government of the independent colony, who continued to have need of able administrators and to desire stability and quick prosperity. The system, therefore, remains entrenched.

So there's the answer. We cannot so easily abandon what we were—the past casts long shadows on any probable future.

The plank in the eye

Posted by moses @ 14:42 • , , • 0 comments


Many Singaporeans are accused of being armchair critics who criticise their government and their country without grasping the finer points of governance. That is often true enough, but sometimes the armchair critics are on the other side. One such example is a blog post by a travel writer who lambasts Singaporeans for their "hypercriticality". Below, I have reproduced my reply to the post.

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Wow... where do I begin? A wealthy tourist likes a place and goes on to proclaim that the people who live there just don't appreciate what they have. Can you see where this is going?

Yes, sometimes one needs to take a step back to get some perspective. But, to put it bluntly, why do you presume to be able to tell those people 'the truth' either? Do you not realise that you too have a particular perspective that is lacking in its own way; i.e. lacking in the everyday experience of living in that place you're talking about.

If couched as a simple reminder to take a step back or a deep breath, then, sure, you may be doing those people a service by writing this. But, as it is, the piece literally compares the people you're discussing to children. If that is not extremely patronising coming from an outsider, then I don't know what is. It's reminiscent of colonial writers from the empire writing about the colonies and their denizens without a serious attempt at understanding the subject matter. It's presumptuous and sickening.

I'm not trying to make this personal. Perhaps I'm being, in a typical way, "hypercritical". But I'm truly astounded by the lack of perspective this piece itself exhibits. And, if it makes sense, that deficiency takes the form of being ostensibly unaware of its own perspective.

Robotic notes

Posted by moses @ 18:52 • , , • 0 comments


Recently Gallup did a study that indicates Singaporeans are among the most, if not the most, emotionless or inexpressive people in the world. The reactions from some people were predictable.

Immediately there were people who contended that the survey questions are subjective, which only seems like a puerile stock response. How much interpretation is needed for questions like "Did you smile or laugh a lot yesterday?" Do Singaporeans understand words like "smile or laugh" differently? Besides, although people's perceptions of happiness or other feelings are indeed subjective, subjectivity is not the issue here—whatever people might think emotions like happiness mean, the study simply wants to know if they feel them or not.

A critique of the methodology needs to be better than that. And because the results are empirical, you can't disagree with them (the plural of your anecdote is not data, by the way). You could disagree with the interpretation of the results, but there too the critics have mostly failed to impress. This brings us to another irony in the indignant responses that seek to paint Singaporean culture as different and therefore not assessable from "subjective" 'Western' perspectives.

This group of responders seems to be asserting themselves as the voice of objectivity and of calm unemotional logic. Yet they fail to see their own hilariously inaccurate assumptions and the contradictions in their position. This is true in at least two respects:

1. "Asian Values" are a stereotypical fantasy

There are clearly some cultural differences between, say, the USA and Singapore. But simply citing "Asian values" is far from giving a good description of these differences. For one, it is widely recognised that Singaporeans are very materialistic and often egotistical in their pursuit of wealth. How does that jibe with the supposedly communal-spirited Asian Values that are now used to explain why Singaporeans are less emotionally expressive as individuals?

Popular conceptions of Asian Values are incoherent and not matched by the reality in our society. This calls into question the whole concept of a monolithic set of Asian Values itself.

2. Your government wants to retain talent, not drive them out

Many of those arguing against the study seem to be people who are patriotic and fiercely protective of Singapore's image. These are often the same people who, going by what they say, like to insist that Singapore does it better than most other places. And because of that, they tend to agree that the ruling party has done the right thing and therefore that we should all be more grateful to the government and the country instead of being critical. Don't like it? Then pack your bags and leave.

Well, that demand—that people who complain, both foreigners and citizens, should leave the country—is not one that the ruling party is making. In fact, evidence points to the contrary: They want to attract and retain talent to keep Singapore economically competitive. So for all your insistence that the government and the country are on the right track on the important things, you seem to be advocating doing something different here. What gives?

It might seem that the study implies we're a race of robotic worker bees that are emotionless or at least inexpressive. But it turns out that we're robots without a good sense of logic either. So that begs the question: What are we really good at?

Whine and Dine: Singaporeans and food elitism

Posted by moses @ 16:15 • , , , , • 0 comments


The whole controversy over Dîner en Blanc in Singapore is really a storm in a teacup; it's a trivial matter that isn't worth all the fuss that has been made about it.

But the reactions towards it are, nevertheless enlightening—they tell us quite a lot about how people think and what our society is like.

What happened is as follows: Dîner en Blanc, a pop-up, invite-only picnic is being organised in Singapore as its first Asian location. Thousands are keen to go the exclusive event, which has large groups of people dressed in white meet for an evening of 'fine dining', learning of the location of the event only from the organizers just before it occurs.

In every Dîner en Blanc event, there are strict rules that, according to the organisers, “[recall] the elegance and glamour of court society”: Guests must attend with a member of the opposite sex, men and women sit across each other in a planned arrangement, and guests must bring their own food, white tables, chairs, fine china crockery and dress only in white—in short, it's a stuffy event that makes itself out to be too good for everyone.

Along came food blogger Daniel Ang, who recommended 12 white-coloured local dishes to bring to the dinner. The blogger, an invited guest, was told by the organizers to take down his post and was then uninvited because the food he recommended was deemed unsuitable. Angered, he shot back, stating, "You can disrespect me as a blogger, and disrespect my blog posts, but you do not disrespect my culture,” adding that “Singapore local delicacies are the classiest foods ever in our hearts.”

To begin with, the indignation of the food blogger has an element of irony in it. Sure, it's annoying to be excluded, and in his position I might react the same way. But it isn't as shocking as it might seem. After all, this is an event that celebrates 'fine dining' à la "court society"—we can expect food elitism to come with the territory.

Moreover, a raison d'être of food blogs is to promote certain discerning eating habits. These may not necessarily be more exclusive than the concept of good taste itself, but by touting certain gastronomic preferences and tastes as 'good', these blogs are likely to be guilty of some measure of food elitism as well.

Further still, while 'fine dining' may arguably be all a matter of presentation and, therefore, quite an arbitrary concept, this is probably not unfamiliar territory to food bloggers. Indeed, in giving his recommendations on what local food to bring, Mr. Ang said:
Tau hway is a simple, inexpensive and elegant dessert. Jazz it up to be served on a fine China bowl, and it will look good.
Such a statement displays perfect awareness of the conventions of 'fine dining'. Perhaps the organisers' outright ban of local offerings caught him by surprise, but it's far from inconceivable—he knew what kind of business he was getting into.

Hence, the disagreement between the blogger and the organisers doesn't stem from radically differing views on food and gastronomy, but from differing views on what kinds of food fall within the category of 'fine dining'.

So it would be a mistake to see the blogger as an agent of a conflict between a gastronomic/cultural elite and the masses—he is more or less aligned with the elite; it's just that he has been excluded by a particular group of elites and is crying foul over it. His liking for food that is also consumed by the masses does not make him the face of the latter any more than Paul Ryan liking Rage Against the Machine makes him the face of the Occupy movement.

In this vein, much of the public anger over the incident is at best misplaced and at worst disingenuous. The fact that such an absurdly elitist event exists—and that many want to go to it—should have raised disdainful eyebrows from the start. Yet Singaporeans choose to be angry, and to be angry over the fact that certain local food items have been rejected by the organisers. If those items hadn't been rejected, many of them might even have felt pride that what they eat is considered 'classy' enough. So those people aren't angry about elitism; they are angry, like the blogger, over the fact that their tastes have expressly been excluded from the endorsement of an elite.

Worse, some have turned this into a matter of national pride, as though the rejection is a grave insult to the nation. The foreigners have done it again, it would seem—they have once again shown that they have no respect for local culture and customs.

If our national pride depended on the status of some food items, then it's a worthless thing indeed. But, more interestingly, this corroborates my previous observation that many people aren't actually feeling angry about what they say or think they are: In actuality, they are angry that their tastes are not considered good enough by an elite; they are angry that foreigners have come to take their jobs away and have altered the cultural landscape. Little or no part of their self-righteous outrage is really about the preposterousness of an extreme kind of food elitism that may signify an increasingly unequal society. It's really just dog whistle politics belying xenophobia and a deep-seated inferiority complex that—I would say—is the product of a highly-controlled society.

So let's be more honest about the underlying agenda here: What are we really mad about?

And the moral of the story is not that we should banish all forms of elitism; that would be impossible, especially in a 'meritocratic' society like ours. Rather, we should acknowledge that all of us practice some form of elitism, that we often like to present our tastes as good and better than others'. This will help to put things in perspective so we can reject the most egregious examples of elitism without knee-jerk reactions that only demonstrate how stupidly oblivious we are to our own positions. And that entails steering well clear of things like Dîner en Blanc, and not complaining loudly only after having been excluded.

We the Citizens

Posted by moses @ 18:16 • , , , , , , , • 0 comments


Doing some research on the public discourse surrounding last year's racist tram incident in the UK, I was prompted to ponder the rise of xenophobic sentiments in Singapore. 

As held in diaspora studies, there is no such thing as a mythical, unchanging homeland. A people's conception of their homeland is formed through experience: What you grow up knowing as your home will be the home that you know. That may seem obvious and tautological; yet people persist in perceiving their homeland as a thing unchanging, when, in reality, their conception of the homeland is simply that which they have learned.

As such, if you're used to the idea of a homogeneous or monocultural homeland, that is how you would conceive of your homeland; that is the image in which you might want to remake your country.

At the very least, Singaporeans are accustomed to the idea of multi-racialism. It has been drilled into us since we were young. Those with a libertarian bent may deride such education as plain indoctrination, but, in truth, it is hardly alien to the process of socialisation that every normal member of society goes through as he/she grows up. And it works. Of course, racism still exists, but there is no popular challenge to idea of Singapore as a multi-racial society.

Yet it has not saved Singapore from the tensions and culture shock associated with immigration, as immigrants from 'alien' cultures have become numerous enough to have a perceived impact on the local way of life. 

Further fuelling the tensions is the political situation, the official support for mass immigration, which sets up a bitter conflict between the authorities and citizens who feel that their grievances are being ignored. While I believe that an open immigration policy is, as typically held by liberal political philosophy, morally right, Singapore's immigration policy is firmly rooted in neoliberalism. In line with the country's ideology of 'pragmatism', immigration is to be supported on the basis of its necessity for economic growth. 

This ideology reduces not only immigrants into economic units, it does the same to the locals, who must embrace cutthroat competition. Wages are driven down and the economic worth of immigrants, especially that of the wealthy among them, is emphasised. The latter is clearly demonstrated by the Chinese evening daily's headline on the recent accident involving a reckless Ferrari driver from China. While hardly relevant to the tragic incident, the newspaper opted to announce the wealth and prestige of the driver first, perhaps to pre-empt local anger, ever-simmering as it was, towards Chinese immigrants. 

What the headline ends up doing is intensifying the existing social tensions, as locals once again feel that they are being treated as mere economic units whose worth is incessantly being compared to the immigrants'. And the fact that local media is tightly controlled by the authorities lends whatever the former prints an air of official legitimacy—it certainly means the authorities cannot conveniently push the blame away. 

Thus, the knee-jerk xenophobia among the public, while deplorable, should be understood as a by-product of the neoliberal race to the bottom, which has exacerbated social inequality in the name of economic growth. And as long as growth takes precedence over social justice and a fair distribution of rights and responsibilities, the government will continue to give ammunition to the xenophobes; which is a pity, since an open immigration policy could work without driving down local living standards and causing so much resentment, if only the government would speak the right language of multiculturalism, abandon the neoliberal religion and adopt better labour regulations. 

Feel Good Inc.

Posted by moses @ 08:46 • , , , , , , • 1 comments


Some people have idealised views of how they can change the world or their surroundings. It's good that these people have dreams, but even if those dreams can be translated into action, it's worth asking if the action would make any real difference. If not, then it would be quite silly for them to think that they are actually doing something.

Recently, as part of their school project, a group of students in Singapore decided to reach out to foreign workers who are employed to do 'low-skilled' jobs. As a result of this outreach, the students have put up an account of the workers' daily lives and their struggle to earn in a living in a society composed mostly of people of entirely different classes from them, a society that mostly ignores their existence.

This is a wonderful attempt at raising social awareness. But, unfortunately, it stops there. I find the students' recommendations for future action particularly uninspiring. The following is what they advocate, in full:
All i want to say, is that we should really learn to appreciate and accept them as our equal. Maybe the next time we see them, we could perhaps just give them a simple smile, or even a word of thanks, to show our appreciation for what they are doing, I'm sure it would make their day. Or at the very least, the next time we see them, we can just try not to pull an ugly face or walk away.

Thank you for taking time to read this, and although every share would not get a dollar donated or anything, but every share is a step closer to a warmer, more accepting society.
It seems not a little naive and condescending to acknowledge that low-skilled foreign workers are economically marginalised while acting as though social acceptance and recognition are going to improve their lot. Yes, levels of social awareness are painfully low in Singapore such that having any is quite commendable. But, having become aware, what are you going to do about the system and the government that author such oppression?

I find the above project to be the humanitarian equivalent of "sending positive vibes" to help people who are faced with problems. It tries to engender good sentiments but does nothing in reality. While these workers may appreciate your reaching out to them, the failure to even mention political and economic solutions makes this gesture seem almost as hollow as the act of spamming of "Kony 2012" on the Internet, a recent example of slacktivism. Raising awareness becomes simply a way to soothe your own conscience when you're not prepared to ask the tough questions and talk about real measures to create change.

So stop just smiling like fools in a photo op—bare your teeth and attack injustice at its source.

Illustration by Frank Chimero

Make Singlish official? Don't be extra, lah!

Posted by moses @ 15:42 • , , , • 0 comments


Some people may lament the lack of official recognition for Singlish. There is no definitive glossary of Singlish terms, no authoritative dictionary that people can turn to in order to reaffirm the meanings in this local variety of English that they use.

But does Singlish (as this Wiki article claims) not have its own version of the Oxford English Dictionary because the government disapproves of it? While that may be a contributing factor, it is but one that contributes to Singlish's larger 'problem'—the lack of institutionalisation. 

And that is as it should be.

But why wouldn't a Singlish dictionary be useful? It might be useful for foreigners who are visiting Singapore, as an aid for finding their way in daily conversations with locals. But for such visitors, wouldn't a short glossary do? 

If some visitors require more because they are staying for a much longer period, wouldn't it be best if they learned by being involved in local conversations? Doesn't the appeal of Singlish come from the fact that it is the lingua franca of the neighbourhood, something that is tacitly learned and that is the culmination of the different customs and culturally-specific meanings that have been thrown together in the melting pot that is Singaporean daily life?

Hence, attempts to codify Singlish and set its rules on paper are missing a crucial point—the very character of it as a creole that is woven into everyday life. Moreover, this brings up the more fundamental issue of the difference between creole and language, a difference that can tell us why the idea of a proper Singlish dictionary is at present quite nonsensical.

As mentioned earlier, meanings in creole are tacit and very much tied to users' habits rather than to formal rules. Thus, the very nature of a creole implies that its rules are institutionalised to a lesser degree compared to a language. And it is worth saying here that the politics of language is really all that separates the two, since language can hardly call itself pure either—most languages are after all derivations of others.

In that sense, there isn't really a sacred philosophical distinction between creole and language. Still, creole is, by virtue of its relatively uninstitutionalised character, closer to Wittgenstein's concept of language-games—examples of language use where actions define the meanings of words and the rules of language. In other words, the meanings of words in creole depend on how people collectively use those words (even more so than in language), in contrast to an imaginary situation where people adhere strictly to prescribed meanings when using words.

So, just as with language, the meanings of words in creole are defined by convention. The difference is, in creole, the conventions are not institutionalised to the same degree by things like authoritative dictionaries, academies and educational systems. Hence, attempts at creating creole dictionaries would not enjoy any kind of spectacular success without also being a real step towards institutionalising the rules that govern creole and thereby towards turning creole into language.

Of course, convention, being a rather 'democratic' thing, tends to come about only with the tacit agreement of the subjects—in this case the creole speakers. And this has implications not just on the meanings of words, but also on the nature of the creole itself. That is why Singlish dictionaries will, in the foreseeable future, remain mainly as humorous rather than useful material; and they will remain so until Singlish speakers tacitly agree to turn Singlish into a properly institutionalised language that is more rigid and bound by abstract rules.

Singapore 21

Posted by moses @ 06:44 • , , , , , , , , , , , • 2 comments


Singapore is a bit like a child who was bullied and looked down on by its peers—it grew up having something to prove.

The insecurities of Singaporean society are a reflection of the insecurities of its founding fathers. And as all deep psychological traumas go, the result is a pathological pattern of behaviour—in this case, the perpetual post-Separation obsession with proving that it can prosper without natural resources and an initial industrial base.

To this end, Singapore has transformed itself into a rentier state in all but name. And the resource that is rented: Human labour. Factories and offices in Singapore are in principle no different from the sweatshops of the Third World, riding on loose or non-existent labour laws and wage legislation that help make the country competitive as a magnet for foreign investment. Politically, in order to facilitate this path of economic development, security and stability have been prioritised over other goals such as democracy and social justice—again, much in the manner of the archetypal rentier state.

What sets Singapore apart from other rentier states that rely on renting its workforce to foreign investors is the kind of industries it seeks to attract. Thus, a significant part of the workforce has to be trained and educated enough to do the kind of work that those industries require, but not in a manner that is enough to enable them to challenge the country's socio-economic trajectory.

That is the essence of Singapore's famous economic and political pragmatism.

However, popular dissatisfaction with its immigration policy and with falling standards in the provision of public services point to a parallel but related trend in the country's political and economic stance.

Even the most diligent of workers may not be able to stomach the fate of forever being a mere cog in the economic machine. Hence, as a form of compensation for their dedication to the government's vision, citizens were promised comfortable middle class lifestyles that were ensured by the provision of subsidised high-quality public services. This is one of the reasons why the government has invested heavily in the country's healthcare and transportation infrastructures—things that are, incidentally, important in maintaining the productivity of the workforce.

This social compact has held until fairly recently. As Singapore increasingly aligned itself with the neoliberal paradigm, however, the old wisdom of labour market liberalisation—which also happens to be a core tenet of neoliberalism—was eventually joined by the move towards the privatisation of state-owned enterprises.

With this move, naturally, came an increased emphasis on profitability, which has been blamed for the fall in service standards in the country's public transportation system, as demonstrated by the recent and unprecedented major disruptions to urban rail services.  At the same time, fares continue to increase, which only helps to lend credence to the notion that the privatisation of public transport has not been in the public's interest.

In addition, as an extension of its stance towards the labour market, Singapore is importing large numbers of cheap workers in its continuing effort to keep labour costs low, thereby contributing to overcrowding and adding to the stress on the country's infrastructure.

Thus, Singaporeans can no longer expect the nanny state to take care of them. Now, all we get in return for our hard work and dedication are promises that are no longer backed by concrete socio-economic support structures. We may have been a first-class rentier state before, but now, with increasing income inequality and decreasing welfare, there is less and less to separate us from the neighbouring states we so enjoy looking down on.

Can things change? Perhaps with the aid of the vast sums of public money that is currently given to the government's investment bankers with little or no public oversight. Will things change? Probably not if we are counting on the old guard to make it happen.

Unfortunately, at the rate we are going, change probably won't come soon enough. Add in the uncertainty in the global economy and the prospect of slower growth, and you know we're in for a rough ride. 

So, in light of our predicament, let me say this: Welcome to the 21st century, ladies and gentlemen. The worst is yet to be.

Don't give up on English to oppose it

Posted by moses @ 11:08 • , , , • 0 comments



Illustration by Don Daily

As a debate plays out this weekend regarding the use of Singlish, let us recall the fable of the Fox and the Grapes. It's a story that is familiar to us, in which a fox, unable to reach some grapes, disparages them as sour grapes.

The term 'sour grapes' has come to signify envy, but there is an element of the pathetic in the fable: Unable to obtain something, the fox takes refuge his rejection of that thing.

Those who entertain thoughts of replacing English with Singlish should remember this tale. The idea of replacing English entails doing away with it altogether, and, if they have resistance in mind, that would not constitute a gesture of resistance.

Why is that so?

An act of resistance without a centre or a point to which it is opposed is untenable. While it might seem clear that communicating in Singlish can be conceived of as an act of resistance that is externally directed against the officious imposition of standard English, it would—recalling the fable—be reduced to a desperate cry if it does not arise from an internally-directed conflict.

This argument is motivated by the mirror-image of the maxim that external opposition is inevitably a reflection of internal contradiction—that a deliberate work of art must be internally coherent to project a meaningful opposition externally. The act of speaking Singlish, if it is to be a performance that mimetically mocks or deconstructs official language, must achieve this internal coherence through the act of conscious and deliberate resistance by the speaker, who has the capability to communicate in standard English and yet chooses not to do so. Without this capability and the actor's power to choose to begin with, the act loses its strength.

It seems eminently foolish to oppose centres of power by reducing what power you have to enact gestures of resistance. Even if those who are for replacing English do not intend it as an act of resistance, their position would still be tantamount to advocating the weakening of the power to resist standard English as a symbol of coercive authority. That would certainly impoverish any speak Singlish movement.

Education

Posted by moses @ 09:56 • , , , , • 0 comments


Every year it's the same. I would be lulled into thinking that there are possibilities here, that things will be different. This year, I actually convinced myself that I think positively now, that I will see things differently. I was even beginning to think that I may prefer to stay here instead of leaving again. But, in the end, I still feel the same way

The people are still the same. People might change since you've got to know them, but they'd never change again. Here, they are still indifferent. You can't rely on them to make the simplest of gestures unless they can see what's in it for them. In general, old friends tend to become nothing but a tiny blot in the paper of the mind, a memory of people who exist but who are of little concern to you now.

Every year, I learn a little more about how to live a largely solitary existence. When family became lost to me emotionally, I had friends. Now friends are merely a collection of acquaintances. You don't leave a place and expect to pay no price. Maybe some people can, but such are my blessings.

Each time, to stave off bitterness, I have to know that I've become better. I have to be able to say that I've become more self-sufficient. To achieve that, I have to turn again to philosophy. Only philosophy can teach you how to live alone and nonchalantly.

The strong person is an essentially solitary person. I have no need for friends, as they have no need for me.

A note on the elections and on change

Posted by moses @ 12:17 • , , , • 0 comments


I don't care much for procedural politics in general. My aspirations for social and political change are a little bit on the 'pie-in-the-sky' side. This is not to say, though, that I don't care to vote. Voting is important for some rather obscure reasons to do with the technicalities of particular representative democratic systems, barring some really exciting circumstances—and this comes from someone who normally likes pretty obscure stuff. Real life seems rather too important and straightforward for obscure reasoning, but in the absence of strong reasons to believe otherwise, citizens should exercise their voting rights.

So that is to say that I am normally pretty agnostic towards voting, but I am leaning more for it than against it. Now let me explain why I don't think voting is anywhere near the limit or the be-all-end-all of the exercise of one's capacity as a political (in the bona fide classical sense) individual.

In order to do so, it looks like I have to first explain why I have little faith in the electoral process as a mechanism for social and political change anyway. Perhaps I live under somewhat exceptional circumstances, but I have seen the election of new governments fail spectacularly to institute much meaningful change. In a country like Singapore, where institutions can be expected to be particularly sticky or conservative, the electoral process certainly doesn't inspire me with much hope.

I am not familiar with comparative and more empirical theories of democracy, and so I turn to bigger narratives to find reasons why it is the case that elections are not normally game-changing. There is a myth defended by the older stuffy liberals (sometimes known as conservatives) that voting is the ultimate exercise of one's capacity as a responsible political agent. This is the myth we are brought up to believe, which may explain the religious seriousness with which some attend to the matter of voting in elections. However, reflecting Habermas' narrative of the decline of the public sphere, elections constitute a dated procedure handed down from ages past, an old gentlemen's game that has been massified but nevertheless expected to retain the same significance for each individual voter. Meanwhile, as the actualisation of the sovereign will of the people, it is actively being circumvented in modern times by influential political organisations with direct access to policy makers and by purported political exigencies that are subject to little public scrutiny. In other words, your votes as individuals pale in significance to how much power and influence is wielded by a political elite, whose mandate to rule over you is ironically affirmed by your votes.

The only way forward, under present constraints of the prevailing democratic systems, seems to be in trying to match the direct policy-making influence of powerful organisations. We are in need of a large civil society consisting of citizen activists who would fight for the causes they believe in. The only way forward is through citizen advocacy groups, unions and active everyday participation in politics. The days of waiting for elections and for your representatives in parliament to make your voices heard are over, if they were ever there. Only then can the public put itself on the same playing field as elite organisations in determining the character of governance.

In a sense, the conservatives have it right: Don't trust the authorities. But that does not mean we should minimise government—the government does many beneficial things after all; it means we should have a civil society to match. This, if anything, is the true meaning of a big society.

For this to happen, however, there must be a lively as well as a quality culture of political participation in society. It takes a certain amount of awareness, political wisdom and community spirit amongst citizens to institute a strong civil society. Unfortunately, the current state of Singapore's society and its public discourse does not inspire me with much hope in this either at present. Nevertheless, the stirrings in the public, if rather too naively focused on the electoral process, might be a sign of the beginnings of change. This may also be somewhat 'pie-in-the-sky', but, ultimately, I think one should be optimistic and look forward to real change.

Open letter to a neo-liberal or technocratic apologist

Posted by moses @ 17:38 • , , , , , • 0 comments


This letter is a synthesis of my arguments in an extended on-line debate with a member of an older generation. The debate pertains to the political situation in Singapore, but I believe my arguments can also be applied to the context of some of today's so-called liberal democracies, particularly the United Kingdom.

---

Dear Sir,

In the past year, I have witnessed growing discontent in the two societies that I am part of. There is increasing resentment against the ruling elite that stems from economic grievances. Yet, as apt as this may seem from a Marxist point of view, I think much of the resentment is not as productive as one might hope.

In saying this, I appear to be critical of criticisms from the ground, but this neither suggests that I am on your side nor that I have an intellectually elitist viewpoint. I just don't think the criticisms are radical enough.

I'm saying that simpler socio-economic complaints belie the real issue of our need to take back our agency. I'm also saying that we shouldn't get sidetracked into pseudo-xenophobic discussions about immigration. Many European countries are getting mired in this situation and it basically only allows the disaffected to expend their energy on something that wouldn't help them in the longer run. They can restrict immigration, but it wouldn't solve the fundamental problems in their society.

Essentially, the root of the problem is the fact that the people have been patronised all along by the government. I believe what many of us also believe—that our democracy is dysfunctional. You know why the government doesn't listen to us? Because it doesn't really have to. How are we even going to debate public policy properly when the government holds all the cards? And our own culture, mentality and method of opposition are contributing to this. We ourselves are guilty for letting this continue.

One reason might be that we are engaging in politics of wish-fulfilment. We look to the government to fulfil our wants and needs, and we give it pretty much a free hand as long as it can do this. That may sound par the course in politics, but that's also why we're so easily duped. In the next election, the ruling elite would come up with some bones to toss our way, and the majority of us would lap it all up and once again perpetuate the system. Who really holds the power—whether it's the bureaucrats, the politicians or the people—never really mattered to us. And no matter what evasive answers one might give about the necessity of a true participatory democracy, nothing changes the fact that it is what enables the people to govern themselves. If we don't want it, then we can't really cry when we are ignored by the ruling power. We have to blame ourselves for that.

To be fair, it's not entirely our fault. Our psychology is the product of the system. But that's all in the past. The government might have justified a top-down system because of the need to develop. However, now that we have developed to a large extent, what is pretty much the same system is still being kept around in the name of continued economic growth. When will this stop? That is the present question, and only we can come up with the answer.

On the economic aspect of social organisation, I agree that material interests are legitimate interests, but not when we run away with them and forget everything else. Now that times are hard, people are unhappy—that's a perfectly valid sentiment. But what about when times were good? Did we care about how things were done?

A true participatory democracy cannot guarantee that we meet our desired material goals, especially when we set the bar higher and higher. However, what it does guarantee is that we have a real say and that we as a people run our country. The overly risk-averse state of mind is what makes us captives of the system—we want rights and we want to be heard, but we won't take the necessary material risks to make our country our own.

The basic reactionary position is to deny that there is a real fundamental problem, or at least to justify the current system by pointing out that other systems have problems too. Yes, there is an empirical basis for making the latter claim. But does that mean that every society is simply stuck with its own set of problems? I'm saying that there is a possible way forward through changing the system. And systemic change is worth looking at because the problem is structural—it has to do with mechanisms of feedback and control.

There is no panacea for all problems, but we can choose to do something about them instead of simply suffering perpetual injury.

I doubt, however, that you will understand this line of reasoning as long as you choose to regard it as yet another normative point of view in a relativist political paradigm. It doesn't simply boil down to a subjective choice of political and moral values. Advocates of participatory democracy have valid and positive points to make about issues of power and participation as long as democracy serves as our political ideal.

On a final note, you might point to an uncertain future as the defining problem, but so does the ruling elite. And their proposed solution is to band together under their banner to work for the common good.

Yet there is an alternative, one that neither you nor they are willing to entertain. But perhaps under a system that clearly favours one particular brand of hegemonic discourse it's not surprising that we are not really being heard. Just like many of those who have simpler grievances.

The ignorant critic, or happy N-Day!

Posted by moses @ 01:44 • , , , , • 2 comments


Since it's National Day, maybe I should do a bit of my patriotic duty by slamming criticism of the government. I'm proud of Singapore, man!

About a week ago, I read a blog entry complaining about the government's approach to solving the problem of insufficient parking spaces in public housing areas. Apparently, the authorities decided to double "the overnight parking fee from $2 to $4".
Cars need to find a place to park at night. You increase the parking fee, they still need to park there if they have to. How is increasing the fee from $2 to $4 going to help?
So says the blogger, who also adds:
Planning guys! Planning. Either you increase the number of parking spaces or you decrease the number of cars on the road. Increasing the parking fee only give you a bigger bonus at the end of the year. It does not help anyone at all. End of the day, those car still need to park somewhere.
Tsk, tsk. This ignorant bad person obviously needs to get into the shoes of a bureaucrat. Here is a very simple economic model that shows the supply and demand of parking spaces and the effect of price fixing on the market, which I think is sufficient to explain the situation:

*I meant "spaces" not "lots"

The two grey diagonal lines represent the supply (S) and demand (D) 'curves' for parking spaces respectively. The y (vertical) axis of the graph measures the price of each parking lot, while the x (horizontal) axis measures the number of parking spaces used. Clearly, the graph shows the relationship between the price and the number of parking spaces used.

If the market is left to sort itself out, the common assumption is that it would default to a 'natural' sort of equilibrium. The equilibrium (default state of the market at which an equilibrium price is charged and an equilibrium number of parking spaces are used) point would be where the S and D curves intersect. So the equilibrium price would be represented by 'Pe' and the number of parking spaces used would be represented by 'Qe'. That is the point at which supply meets demand, so to speak.

However, let's say that in actual fact there aren't as many parking spaces as 'Qe'. Imagine that the S curve is vertical in the short term, since building of new car parks would take time or there just isn't enough space in the near future. Let's say there really are only 'Q`' number of parking spaces in the short term. So what happens then? The price has to correspondingly go up to 'P`' to reflect the reality of a shortage of supply.

But of course the real world doesn't quite work that way. Parking fees in public housing areas are most likely set by the authorities. That means when the authorities realise that there are too few parking spaces to meet demand, they would fix the price at a higher level in order to curb use and reserve available places for those who need them the most and are therefore willing to pay. 

So what happens in the above model is the authorities would impose the price of 'P`', represented by the red line, in order to meet a target of 'Q`' number of parking spaces used. In other words, this is similar to ERP and such price-based congestion-reducing measures. You increase the price (or impose a 'tax') to decrease the number of people who are ready to use the particular infrastructure.

But why not have the S curve vertical in the model to approximate reality better? First of all, as discussed above, since parking fees are set by the authorities, I want to show the effects of price fixing rather than those of limited and very inelastic supply. Secondly, I'm not sure that 'P`' is the price that corresponds (given demand) to the actual number of parking spaces available, so I can't say that 'Q`' is the number of parking spaces available in reality. Thirdly, this is just an example using very basic economic concepts, so it may not be the best model. Lastly, this can reflect the real situation in the longer term, when there is enough time to increase the supply of parking spaces.

So one of the things worth talking about is not the fact that people still need to park their cars despite the price increase, which is neither here nor there as it skips any attempt at rational analysis, but the fact that there is deadweight loss as represented by the shaded area. However, what is more relevant in this situation is not even that, since we are speaking from the public's point of view, but the loss of consumer surplus, which is represented by the black and yellow shaded area. This area represents the utility loss of those people who don't get to use the parking spaces they otherwise would have used because the fee is now higher than they deem affordable.

Now, it's probably the case that, in the short term, demand for car parks is more inelastic than shown (D curve more vertical) so doubling the price would indeed not result in a significant reduction in the number of parking spaces used. However, this doesn't necessarily mean that people can either have nowhere to park their cars or pay up, as the blogger seems to imply. They may decide to use non-public car parks since those are no longer as expensive relative to public car parks, or they may be more willing to risk parking illegally. More importantly, in the longer run, this may discourage people from using personal vehicles, allowing the supply of car parks to catch up more easily with the demand. 

So although this measure is not exactly good in the short term, it's a reasonable enough solution for the longer run. Besides, in the first place, what else can be done in the short term?

The reality is increasing the supply of parking spaces is not a short term solution, nor is managing the trend of growing use of personal vehicles. In fact, the increase in parking fees, as I've explained, is one way of doing the latter. Furthermore, the officials quoted in the news article this blog entry cites do talk about the need for longer-term solutions, so the entry proves to be very selective in what it mentions. And it certainly ignores the fact that, from an economic point of view, the price increase would better reflect the situation on the ground, giving preference to those with greater need and hence (presumably) greater willingness to pay.

So I've written one of my longest entries ever just to discuss a relatively trivial issue. But the point isn't really to prove that blogger wrong. The point is to illustrate that you don't have to be an expert to criticise something, as many people in Singapore like to imply (when it suits their purposes), but you should at least think through what you're saying. As it is, given such a small pool of dissent in the country, there is too much crap swirling around for it to be taken seriously. Any wonder that the opposition doesn't have much credibility?

Singaporeans like to complain about small things—well, who doesn't? But get it right more often. For a nation of brilliant scorers, we say a lot of stupid things.

Now go watch the parade.

Home

Posted by moses @ 12:46 • , , • 0 comments


I think this is a problem that people in such a small country like Singapore don't often appreciate.

When you move to a new place, you don't know anyone and you have to build your life anew. In a large country where there actually are different towns and cities, that is, where moving would count for something. But that's fine—you just have to work on it. The trouble is if it's temporary. Then it's simply going to get torn down again. And when you get back (if you do go back), you don't know anyone anymore either.

The problem can be set up and compounded by two things: The fact that you are moving to a different country with a different culture, and the fact that your original country is a deeply impersonal place. That way, you'd be a stranger everywhere.

But we don't have to complicate things that way. We can say something about the uprooting itself. When you uproot yourself, you set before you the task of building a new life. A new network, a new schedule, new habits, a new lifestyle (to a certain extent). But the normal assumption is that this is a task of some permanence. You rebuild. You don't normally rebuild to tear down again.

So I'm in a rare enough position.

But for me there is yet another dimension to this: Leaving my hometown (which isn't where I originated), I felt that I had begun to build a life of my own, and it was good. Losing that has an impact.

Maybe I'm just sensitive. Maybe this also has to do with the fact that I left my hometown having lost almost all connection with the people around me.

Nevertheless, I think one thing is true: They say you must know your roots, but the truth is you mostly need to grow them. Where you are, that's where you need to plant. There is no home where you don't have much to hold on to.

And that will never make it into one of the National Day anthems.

The Death of Danton

Posted by moses @ 17:31 • , , , , • 0 comments


Every year on Armistice Day and V-Day Europe remembers the dangers of nationalism—at least one would hope. In contrast, I don't think too many people in Asia are attuned to it. Maybe not enough of us have died tragically in its name?

Certainly, between violent squabbles about the ruins of a temple and lengthy periods of compulsory military service, a cacophony of nationalist sentiments permeates Southeast Asia. And few seem to stop and ask: Why does it matter?

Indeed, why? I'm sure we've all heard John F. Kennedy's famous line, "Ask not what your country can do for you—ask what you can do for the country". I think that should be reformulated, and not as a statement but as a question: What does your country even mean to you?

In truth, for many people, I can think of very little. Sure, your country gives you a sense of identity as the place you were born in, where you perhaps live and have the right to be. But you pay your taxes, don't you? As productive or at least honest members of society, you are paying your dues to the community as a member. You are participating in the community.

Yes, everyone stands to lose if the country is weak and vulnerable, but up to what point are concerns about security still reasonable? When does it start to resemble paranoia?

The leaders know that simple pragmatism alone wouldn't commit people to readily pledge their service to the country, at least not to the extent that they're hoping for. That's why they come up with nationalistic propaganda. Their hope is that some sort of love for and sense of responsibility to the country would be instilled in you. The blinder you are as a follower the better. When they need martyrs, they know where to look.

So why do we play along? What is it that the country gives us in exchange? We know why the politicians hold office and why the government is in power. They give their service in exchange for power and position. I can perhaps understand the American sentiment that the country is the defender of their liberties. But especially in places like Singapore, where you're always simply asked to go the extra mile for the 'greater good', so that the country can be competitive, what's in it for you?

Do you think the country takes care of you? In the age of globalisation, where the welfare state is deemed inefficient, the country can no longer make the promises it used to make. Will you have jobs? Will you be able to earn a decent living? Will you have enough funds to retire comfortably? The paradigm of the neo-liberal state gives no clear answers to such questions. You are essentially on your own. The role of the state is to leave you free to do what you want, provided you have the means to do it. Batteries not included, of course.

Even then, in some countries you're not actually free to do a great number of relatively harmless things, like buying chewing gum.

And so, as I've said some time ago, is there any real meaning to nationalism today? How is it that they are asking you to love something selflessly in a world of self-love? If you love yourself, you will find the means to live. That is the living ethic of today. Can loving your country provide an alternative?

It's funny that years ago I had a pragmatic attitude towards nationalism, seeing it as necessarily existent and even necessary. Young minds are impressionable, I suppose. And that's when it's most dangerous. If the leaders want to fight a great war, they need the young to be on board.

A mutinous army results in a dead Tsar. Do we want to give him the power with which he could kill us instead?