• IP addresses are NOT logged in this forum so there's no point asking. Please note that this forum is full of homophobes, racists, lunatics, schizophrenics & absolute nut jobs with a smattering of geniuses, Chinese chauvinists, Moderate Muslims and last but not least a couple of "know-it-alls" constantly sprouting their dubious wisdom. If you believe that content generated by unsavory characters might cause you offense PLEASE LEAVE NOW! Sammyboy Admin and Staff are not responsible for your hurt feelings should you choose to read any of the content here.

    The OTHER forum is HERE so please stop asking.

Benjamin Cheah of TOC gets overwhelmed by his imagination

Thick Face Black Heart

Alfrescian (InfP)
Generous Asset
I cannot fathom why Benjamin Cheah would write such a sloppy article about Lynn Lee that is, as Lynn pointed out, choke full of factual errors.

Ben Cheah seems to be extremely pro SPF and anti PRC bus drivers. Maybe that's what skewed his "journalism".

Disgrace for TOC for printing this article. I am consigning TOC to the like of Temasek Times, Wayang Times, TheRealSingapore, and other assorted nasties.

********************************************

[h=1]In Which Benjamin Cheah Gets Overwhelmed By His Own Imagination[/h]by LYNN on Feb 23, 201311:53 pmNo Comments
I don’t like to draw attention to poorly written articles, but then this piece appeared in The Online Citizen today and it happens to be about me. On top of being very pompous and very cheong hei, it’s also riddled with mistakes, half-truths and made-up facts. And so, even though I’d rather spend my Saturday drinking tea and eating pork buns, here I am, writing a response to the most bizarre piece of journalism (?) I have ever come across.
Benjamin Cheah, for whatever reason, has decided that my little encounter with the Singapore Police is something he needs to talk about. Cheah has a right to his opinions. What’s dangerous though is the fact that his article is based on shoddy research and conjecture. He even gets wrong, simple facts that can be easily gleaned from my blog entry about the saga.
Clearly Cheah feels that my reaction to the investigation was unjustified. The problem is, he doesn’t bother to ask me directly for my opinion. He doesn’t even try to read my post properly. Instead, Cheah does something completely inexplicable: he imagines what my thoughts or actions might be, and then he convinces himself that he is right, and then he builds an article around his fantasies.
1. Cheah writes: “The narrative around the incident was almost single-handedly constructed by one person: Lynn Lee. She live-tweeted events as they occurred, from the moment the police arrived at her doorstep, to her visit to the Police Cantonment Complex, until she returned home.”
Cheah makes it sound as if I was regaling the public with updates about the investigation for three straight days.I don’t have a Twitter account and was thus not able to tweet, let alone ‘live-tweet’. If anything got onto Twitter, it was because friends, who were texting and calling me during my second interview, decided to post updates. I didn’t even know this was happening until pretty late in the afternoon.
As stated in my blog post, I was interviewed at Police Headquarters in Irrawaddy Road, not the Police Cantonment Complex.
2. Cheah asserts: “Lee’s accusation of harassment is based on her subjective opinion, and bolstered by subjective public opinion. The police were acting according to established legal standards, and are primarily judged by those standards. Lee does not make this distinction.”
Am scratching my head trying to remember when, exactly, I accused the police of “harassment”. The word doesn’t even feature in my blog post or Facebook updates. Perhaps this happened while I was ‘live-tweeting’ from my imaginary Twitter account?
I blogged about the investigation. I raised a few questions in my post. I also made very clear – to a colleague who rang me during the second interview, to a Yahoo reporter and on Facebook – that the police did not mistreat me. What I did write in my blog post was that they were “over zealous”. Cheah interprets this to mean ‘harassment’. His word, not mine.
3. Cheah writes: “Having inserted herself into an ongoing case, Lee made herself both a witness and a suspect.”
Last I checked, the police said I was not being investigated. Did they tell Cheah something different? If so, he should include in his article, a direct quote from the relevant person stating that I have become a “suspect” in their investigation. If not, Cheah should stop pretending he knows what the police are thinking.
4. Cheah writes: “Lee is neither a lawyer nor a police officer. She has neither the authority nor the expertise to determine what material is relevant or not.
No, I am not a lawyer, but I do have a law degree from NUS and I did pass the Practical Law Course. I have a tiny bit more expertise than even Cheah himself.
5. Cheah writes: “When four drivers incited an illegal strike, the public cheered them on. When they were arrested, the public booed the police—just because they enforced the law against a popular cause.”
Here, Cheah strays dangerously into fiction. Cheering and booing? By the public? Got meh?
6. Cheah writes: “In Dr George Thompson’s Verbal Judo, Lee would be called a Difficult Person. Difficult People are argumentative, pernickety, and always demand to know why. Thompson writes, “When Difficult People challenge your authority, it is usually pointless to explain why you’ve asked them to do something. They may not even care that you are authorised to make your request. They may not even care about the consequences of failing to obey.”
In Cheah’s imagination, my exchanges with the police were probably highly charged, emotional, full of wailing and gnashing of teeth. A bit of ‘Verbal Judo‘ might have helped things. The truth is far less exciting. Everyone was civil and polite. I asked questions. The police were unable to answer some of them. In between waiting for clarification during their second visit, some of the officers even played with my dogs. I called lawyer M Ravi, when I felt uncomfortable about handing over my laptop, phone and computer. The result? I was able to keep my electronic devices. Cheah might prefer to just obey. I prefer to safeguard my rights.
The police, as Cheah himself points out, are imperfect men and women doing their jobs. Their work is important and I have no doubt, a lot of it is difficult, delicate and even thankless. But Cheah does them a disservice if he assumes they expect complete, slavish compliance to their every whim and demand. They are human and therefore imperfect. I’m willing to bet my last dollar that even they know that. As citizens, we are not overstepping the line by asking that they explain their actions.
As readers, it is also not too much for us to ask that Cheah gets his facts right. The Online Citizen does no one any favours by allowing him space to run this long, overwrought, overly presumptuous article. The police have a job to do. Cheah thinks I hindered them by asking questions. The truth is, he does them a greater disservice by making things up.
 

Thick Face Black Heart

Alfrescian (InfP)
Generous Asset
This is Benjamin Cheah's original TOC article.

Note the fairy tale spun and his complete dissociation from reality.

******************************

[h=1]The Singapore Police Under a Harsh Spotlight[/h]Posted date: February 23, 2013 In: Benjamin Cheah, Main Story, TOC Feature
<iframe src="http://www.facebook.com/plugins/like.php?href=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.theonlinecitizen.com%2F2013%2F02%2Fsingapore-police-harsh-spotlight%2F&send=false&layout=button_count&width=100&show_faces=false&action=like&colorscheme=light&height=27&locale=en_US&appId=531925803518635"
</iframe>
<iframe frameborder="0" hspace="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" tabindex="0" vspace="0" width="100%" id="I0_1361644209076" name="I0_1361644209076" src="https://plusone.google.com/_/+1/fastbutton?bsv&size=medium&hl=en&origin=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.theonlinecitizen.com&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.theonlinecitizen.com%2F2013%2F02%2Fsingapore-police-harsh-spotlight%2F&jsh=m%3B%2F_%2Fscs%2Fapps-static%2F_%2Fjs%2Fk%3Doz.gapi.en_US.QfP1fsGhpQY.O%2Fm%3D__features__%2Fam%3DQQ%2Frt%3Dj%2Fd%3D1%2Frs%3DAItRSTP37TVuFTzZTtJDRVMGQpevTjtJTQ#_methods=onPlusOne%2C_ready%2C_close%2C_open%2C_resizeMe%2C_renderstart%2Concircled%2Conload&id=I0_1361644209076&parent=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.theonlinecitizen.com&rpctoken=10214849" allowtransparency="true" data-gapiattached="true" title="+1" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border-width: 0px; border-style: none; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; background-color: transparent; height: 20px; position: static; top: 0px; width: 90px; left: 0px; visibility: visible;"></iframe>

<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" src="http://platform.twitter.com/widgets/tweet_button.1360972506.html#_=1361644208979&count=horizontal&id=twitter-widget-0&lang=en&original_referer=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.theonlinecitizen.com%2F2013%2F02%2Fsingapore-police-harsh-spotlight%2F&size=m&text=The%20Singapore%20Police%20Under%20a%20Harsh%20Spotlight%20%7C%20The%20Online%20Citizen&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.theonlinecitizen.com%2F2013%2F02%2Fsingapore-police-harsh-spotlight%2F" class="twitter-share-button twitter-count-horizontal" title="Twitter Tweet Button" data-twttr-rendered="true" style="margin: 0px 0px 15px; padding: 0px; border-width: 0px; outline: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; background-color: transparent; height: 20px; width: 110px;"></iframe>
Share


By Benjamin Cheah
The fundamental paradox of civilisation is that it occasionally needs protection using means that appear uncivilised. Every citizen of every society has the right to question the organisations authorised to use such means for the public good. But such scrutiny should be based on a full understanding of the law and methodology, not headline-grabbing assumptions and strong emotions.
The narrative surrounding the case of Lynn Lee is simple to understand. The bus drivers she interviewed alleged the police tortured them when they were in custody. The police, fearing the consequences, took immediate steps to clamp down on Lee, secure damning evidence, and intimidate her and other journalists.
This narrative plays into public fears of police brutality and misconduct. It grabs headlines, guarantees condemnation from the online community, and creates a story of abused victims, a dogged martyr, and badge-wielding villains.
The narrative is also incomplete.

The narrative meets Henlon’s Razor
The narrative around the incident was almost single-handedly constructed by one person: Lynn Lee. She live-tweeted events as they occurred, from the moment the police arrived at her doorstep, to her visit to the Police Cantonment Complex, until she returned home. Kirsten Han publicised the incident on Asian Correspondent and her blog. Other bloggers caught wind of the incident, and Facebook and Twitter erupted. Then Lee wrote a more complete version of events on her website, further entrenching the narrative.
Therein lies the problem: it is only one person’s story. Lee is an independent journalist who covered stories of abuse, and lives in a country with a history of political repression and whose police force enjoys broad powers. The narrative she constructed is framed through her experiences, biases, knowledge and beliefs. It makes for a powerful story, but it is incomplete and inaccurate.
This is a narrative of state malice. Hanlon’s Razor states, Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity. It is time to apply Hanlon’s Razor to the narrative.

What is police harassment?
Police harassment falls under the broad category of ‘police misconduct’. Police misconduct, according to Wikipedia, refers to ‘inappropriate actions taken by police officers in connection with their official duties’. The Legal Dictionary says it refers to ‘a wide range of procedural, criminal and civil violations’. These are very broad definitions, and as such open to a wide range of subjective interpretations.
Let’s take a not-so-hypothetical example, based on someone I know. Every week, a certain police officer singles out a specific citizen for intense questioning and a pat-down on the street, with the citizen always in handcuffs until the policeman is done. The officer appears anytime, anywhere: when the citizen is strolling with his girlfriend after dinner, when he is about to go to work with his friends in the morning, or when they meet on the street. Looks like harassment, doesn’t it?
But what if the citizen were a thug with a history of violence, is friendly with street gangs, constantly evades prosecution by the skin of his teeth, and is known to carry weapons on his person at all times? Is this still harassment? A policeman going the extra mile? Both? It depends on current law and the police code of conduct, and determined in court. Not any one person’s feelings and beliefs.
Therein lies the heart of the issue. Lee’s accusation of harassment is based on her subjective opinion, and bolstered by subjective public opinion. The police were acting according to established legal standards, and are primarily judged by those standards. Lee does not make this distinction.

A mile in their boots
To fully understand this incident, first walk a mile in the boots of the Internal Affairs officer assigned to the case. Your superior has informed you that an independent journalist, Lynn Lee, has uploaded videos in which two SMRT bus drivers allege they were tortured by the police. As lead investigator, your job is to figure out what really happened. What are your priorities? What do you investigate? I’m not a policeman, but I can hazard a guess.
The first priority question is: Are these allegations true?
To answer that, you need to ask the following:
1. Who are the bus drivers in the video, and how do I contact them?
2. Who interviewed those drivers?
3. Who is Lynn Lee, how is she connected to the drivers, and what really happened when she interviewed the drivers?
The case of the two drivers, He Jun Ling and Gao Yue Qiang, has not been resolved. They are still waiting for their cases to be heard. Releasing information on the affair could taint the trial, and could be seen as criminal contempt of court, better known as sub judice. But since the case has not reached the courts yet, the case is in doubt. The police are law enforcers, so they are obligated to investigate every potential violation of the law. They cannot close one eye here. Therefore, the second priority question is: Has the investigation been compromised, and has Lee committed a crime?
To answer that, you need to ask the following:
1. Who else does Lee know, and how are they connected to the investigation?
2. What else does Lee know about the investigation, and what material has she obtained?
3. Has Lee committed sub judice or any other crimes, and will the material she possesses affect the trial?
Finally, the entire case is politically-charged. The public was sympathetic to the plight of these bus drivers, who seemed to be paid less than Singaporean and Malaysian drivers just because they happened to be from China. Activists and non-government organisations (NGOs) jumped on the cause. When four drivers incited an illegal strike, the public cheered them on. When they were arrested, the public booed the police—just because they enforced the law against a popular cause. It is a perfect opportunity to stir up more discontent against the police and the government and gain publicity. If the judge throws out the case because of these allegations, so much the better. The third priority question is: Are these allegations simply disinformation to discredit the police and the prosecution?
This scenario may sound like a far-fetched conspiracy theory to most law-abiding citizens. But there have been false allegations of police misconduct in other countries before, and in this case activists, lawyers and NGOs would stand to gain a great deal of publicity and support if they successfully create a narrative of police brutality. Such a narrative would also erode the credibility of the police force, and with it operational effectiveness when interacting with members of the public. The police need to know if everything is exactly as it appears to be, or if there is a disinformation campaign in play.
To this end, the police have to ask these questions:
1. Why did she get herself involved in the case? Did anyone put her up to it?
2. How did she conduct the interviews, and is she withholding anything?
3. Is Lee an agent provocateur for a larger group, or working solo?
Lynn Lee is at the periphery of the investigation. But, at the beginning of the investigation, she is the most accessible and visible lead the police have, at least until the police develop more information from the drivers and the officers who interviewed them. This is also complicated by the fact that she might have committed sub judice and that the case is in the public eye.
To the average citizen, this looks like paranoia and suspicion. But police work is measured by a much higher standard than in most jobs. The investigation needs to stand up to the scrutiny of the prosecutor, the judge and the defence lawyer. The investigators need to cover every angle, no matter how ridiculous they may seem to the public.
A sharp defence lawyer will think of the above questions, and more. Court cases are determined not necessarily by what really happened, but rather established facts and the narrative each side can construct around them. Assuming Internal Affairs finds enough evidence to prosecute the interrogators for police brutality, and the case goes to court, a slick defence lawyer may harp on the disinformation angle. He may paint Lee as an instigator and the bus drivers as liars, and accuse the police of not doing their jobs properly. Alternatively, the defence may accuse Lee of sub judice, and if the police did not cover that angle he will accuse the police of inadequacy and question the integrity of the investigation.
Either move will hamper the prosecution’s case. Because of these possibilities—among others—the police investigation must cover every conceivable angle.
Having inserted herself into an ongoing case, Lee made herself both a witness and a suspect. The police needs to investigate the case and determine if there are avenues of prosecution. At the same time, they have to respect Lee’s legal rights and operate in an emotionally-charged environment. This is a very delicate balancing act, and it seems the police fell off on the side of the prosecution. There are a number of police officers involved in this case. Some, by Lee’s testimony, met the highest standards of the job. Some did not.

Heavy-handedness? Unprofessionalism? Clumsiness?
From this point, I will examine Lee’s account of events, as described on her website. The saga began when Superintendent Lim Chan Huat from Internal Affairs and two other officers showed up at her doorstep. Lim interviewed Lee, asking her for the clips of the drivers and a few questions. She cooperated. Then he said he needed to seize her external hard drive, containing all her footage. Claiming that she had confidential material in her hard drive, she offered instead to let him copy the ‘relevant footage’, but he refused. Instead, Lim showed her a letter from the Attorney General’s Chambers (AGC), authorising him to act under Section 16(2) of the Criminal Procedure Code (CPC).
She said, “I asked what provision in the CPC allowed him to take my property, especially as I wasn’t the one being investigated.” Lim was unable to reply. The two of them went through the CPC, with him pointing out sections and her dismissing them as “not applicable”.
Lee, in fact, is the one being investigated because of the ambiguity of the situation. The police have to treat her as a witness and a potential suspect. Lim cannot take her words at face value. Lee is neither a lawyer nor a police officer. She has neither the authority nor the expertise to determine what material is relevant or not. Likewise, Lim cannot assume that Lee will not hide any relevant material from him. His job forbids such assumptions. By refusing to cooperate, Lee placed Lim in a very hard spot.
Lim is a police officer, and a Superintendent at that. He should know his job and he should know which provisions authorised him to do his job properly. However, the law is not entirely clear. Section 16 of the CPC describes police procedures for non-arrestable cases. 16(2) says:
In investing such a case, a police officer may, by order of the Public Prosecutor or a Magistrate, exercise any of the special powers of investigation under sections 21, 22, 34, 39 and 111.
Section 39 relates to computers and is the most relevant section. It says:
A police officer or an authorised person, investigating an arrestable offence, may at any time —
(a) access, inspect and check the operation of a computer that he has reasonable cause to suspect is or has been used in connection with the arrestable offence; or
(b) use or cause to be used any such computer to search any data contained in or available to such computer.
(2) The police officer or authorised person may also require any assistance he needs to gain such access from —
(a) any person whom he reasonably suspects of using the computer in connection with the arrestable offence or of having used it in this way; or
(b) any person having charge of, or otherwise concerned with the operation of, such computer.
The law simply says ‘access, inspect and check’ and ‘use or cause to be used’, but not ‘seize’ or ‘impound’. Further, an external hard drive is arguably not a computer, and is up for debate.
The law does not specifically authorise the police to seize a hard drive for inspection, at least not to a layman. In this situation, the law can be argued many ways, and certainly not in Lim’s favour. As a law enforcer, Lim has no say in the substance and interpretation of the law. But as law enforcer, Lim should have known the relevant laws and what he was allowed and not allowed to do.
Then came Superintendant Goh Tat Boon from Bedok Division. Goh claimed he was there to seize the hard drive, in order to “ascertain circumstances”. When she asked why, Goh simply said “circumstances surrounding the case”. When she asked him to name the provisions, Goh told her not to discuss “technicalities”.
It looks like malice, but not quite. Lee placed Goh in a very hard spot. As discussed above, Lee is both witness and suspect and the police need to determine if there is a larger conspiracy afoot. If there really were a conspiracy, and if Lee really was part of it, telling her the ‘circumstances’ would merely encourage her to sound the alarm, fabricate stories, and tamper with evidence stored elsewhere. The police cannot take chance.
However, Goh came across as brusque and unfeeling. Someone of Lee’s personality would not react well to such behaviour. In Dr George Thompson’s Verbal Judo, Lee would be called a Difficult Person. Difficult People are argumentative, pernickety, and always demand to know why. Thompson writes, “When Difficult People challenge your authority, it is usually pointless to explain why you’ve asked them to do something. They may not even care that you are authorised to make your request. They may not even care about the consequences of failing to obey. But they are always interested in how the deal might benefit them.”
Imagine what would have happened if either Goh or Lim said this instead: “Ma’am, I can see you’re a very busy woman. The sooner you help me, the sooner I can get out of your way. The footage in your hard drive is crucial. I need to take the hard drive back to my station to properly inspect the clips, because it is standard operating procedure. I need to record my investigation for the trial, and if I said I inspected the clips in the field, it would not be accepted in court. We’re both interested in knowing what really happened, and if I don’t do things by the book, the trial will be compromised. That won’t help us. I promise we will look only at the relevant clips and prevent anybody from tampering with the evidence, and return your hard drive as soon as I’m done. Could you please give me your hard drive?”
It is still essentially the same thing as Goh’s demand, but it sounds much more reasonable. At the very least, it would be less likely to offend a Difficult Person. And a journalist at that.
While police officers are allowed to use the full weight of the law to demand compliance, such demands come across as heavy-handed and repressive. Modern police agencies prefer persuasion as the first option for that reason. If the Singapore Police Force does not have a verbal judo curriculum or a satisfactory equivalent, I believe incidents like this will become more frequent in the future.
Everybody reached a compromise. Lee consulted a lawyer friend, who advised her to back up her hard drive, and give the hard drive to the police on the condition that they look only at the two interviews. Everybody agreed.

The closest they got
Lim took two statements from Lee, one at her home and the other at the Internal Affairs Office. In both cases, Lee said Lim asked some “pretty strange questions”. These questions concerned her beliefs and causes, connections to various NGOs, and how Lee conducted the interviews, especially what happened in between takes.
These may look like “pretty strange questions” to an ordinary citizen. But to a police officer, these let him answer the second and third priority questions. He needs to know if the original investigation has been compromised, if Lee has committed a crime, and if there is a disinformation conspiracy. The investigation needs to stand up to this angle of inquiry in a court of law, either to affirm or deny the existence of such a conspiracy. The police would need evidence and testimony to do that, and therefore this line of questioning.
Later that day, Lee reported being followed by a pair of strange men. After leaving police headquarters, she met her friend at a cafe for coffee and cake. She spotted two men circling around their table, staring at them, and one of them spoke into a hands-free headset before walking away.
Nobody knows who these people are. It is logical to assume they were plainclothes policemen tasked with monitoring her activities. Going with this assumption, one can build two narratives.
The first is one of state repression. The police are sending men to monitor and intimidate Lee, letting her know they are on to her. This narrative fits with an overarching narrative of plucky and fearless journalist versus the machinery of the state.
The second is one of thoroughness. If Lee really were involved in a disinformation campaign, she would be racing to spread the word about her interview to her co-conspirators. This would be an opportunity to identify them. Two plainclothes policemen are assigned to keep an eye on her, but she spotted them. Nevertheless, the officers stay on the job, and act in a way that is easily interpreted as outright intimidation.
The ambiguity around this incident favours the first narrative. It is easy to digest, stirs up emotions and tells a story of good versus evil. It is a narrative activists and NGOs will want to embrace. But it is not the only interpretation of events.
The following day, Goh and two more officers showed up at Lee’s home. Goh said he needed to seize her laptop, iMac and mobile phone. When Lee asked why they were needed, Goh said they were “necessary and related”, and while it was “unpleasant” for her he needed to take them. She called a lawyer, M Ravi, who arrived with his colleague Claudia Powers.
Ravi questioned Goh, asking him to name the appropriate legal provision and pointing out that Lee had cooperated fully. Goh said they should let him seize the items first, and lodge a complaint later. Ravi called the Chief Prosecutor, and eventually everybody agreed that the officers would take Lee’s mobile and laptop to the Internal Affairs Office, where they would be examined in her presence.


 

Thick Face Black Heart

Alfrescian (InfP)
Generous Asset
This is arguably the closest any of the officers involved ever came to outright, unambiguous misconduct. Technically, Goh is correct in saying that they should let him seize the items first and lodge a complaint later. This is standard advice for citizens who suspect police misconduct: cooperate fully and complain later. Full cooperation reduces the likelihood of the suspect officer from harming or coercing you further, and puts you in a good light during the ensuing Internal Affairs investigation.
But Singapore’s police do not have a shining track record when handling politically-charged incidents and Internal Affairs is too new to have any kind of track record. I won’t pass judgment on what Lee and Ravi did here, but all sides came to an agreement without further incident. This agreement arguably prevented outright misconduct.
That said, Goh continued to come off as brusque and uncaring, which reinforces the perspective and narrative of police misconduct. I suspect Goh would benefit greatly from a verbal judo programme.

Between a rock and a hard place
Lee went to the Police Headquarters, where she was interviewed by a Deputy Superintendent Sim Ngin Kit. After the interview, she observed the police examining her computer. At this time, she said:
“I started wondering seriously if I, rather than the alleged perpetrators, was the one being investigated. Were they trying to establish if I had somehow manufactured the allegations? Or that I had worked with He and Liu’s lawyers and various NGOs to fabricate things?”
The answers, apparently, are yes and yes. During her interview, Sim asked Lee whether she had discussed the drivers’ allegations with anyone, had any communication with NGOs or the men’s lawyers, and how she conducted the video interview with the men.

Lee writes:
Was there some kind of conspiracy between the drivers, their lawyers, political parties NGO workers and myself to fabricate the allegations? The suggestion is ludicrous. The men were not coached. There was no script, not even a list of pre-prepared questions. He and Liu were interviewed separately. Each session consisted of just three people – the relevant driver, the cameraman and me. No one else. There were no retakes.
Certainly such a suggestion appears ludicrous—if there really were no conspiracy and if you know what really happened. The police do not know, and their job requirements prevent them from making assumptions. They cannot take her words at face value. They have to know if the investigation into the bus drivers has been compromised, and if there really were a conspiracy. Their work is based on evidence and testimony, and trials are about narratives based on the facts they unearth. If the police do not examine this theory during their investigation, Lee would probably instead be complaining about how the defence lawyers accused her of being part of a conspiracy. The only way to examine a conspiracy theory is to look for proof that there is one—and if there is no proof, there is no conspiracy. Sim had to ask what she asked.
Lee felt some of Sim’s questions were irrelevant. Specifically, whether NGOs had contacted her before she posted the videos, how the clips were uploaded on which devices. As above, those questions are irrelevant only from the perspective of the innocent and the ones in the know. Sim did not know, and she had to determine if Lee’s full story—right down to the devices she used—fully corroborates with the facts.
By claiming those questions were irrelevant and refusing to cooperate, Lee placed Sim between a rock and a hard place. It’s the same as Goh’s dilemma. If Sim explained why the questions were relevant, and if there were a conspiracy, it would tip off the conspirators. If Sim did not explain why, and if there were no conspiracy, Sim would look bad to the whole world. It also makes Lee look like she has something to hide.
The police usually interact with criminals who have everything to lose if caught, and will lie, evade or refuse to answer questions. For police officers, if someone evades or refuses to answer a question, they assume that person has something to hide—usually a criminal act. If an interview will not dig up that secret, they will find it through other means. Such as going through documents and electronic devices with a fine-toothed comb.
And this may have happened here—if only because the officers need to be able to fully explain themselves in court. A pair of officers from the Technology Crime Forensic Branch went through Lee’s laptop’s hard disk and mobile phone. They hooked up the hard disk to a write blocker, preventing data from being introduced or overwritten, and went through her documents. They examined her phone, poring over her messages. One text message, Lee saying she was being followed, was flagged, documented and printed. An officer requested Lee’s email address. She said no, because “would you allow me to look at your emails?”
See above, police assumptions of people who have something to hide and consequences thereof. The police cannot assume innocence, as long as the conspiracy theory is still hanging in the air, along with the question of whether or not Lee committed a crime or knows people who have. The police need to confirm Lee’s story, in this case by going through her data.
Throughout the investigation, the officers treated Lee to food and drinks. About 8 hours later, the police found nothing incriminating. They purged the computers of the data they took from Lee’s hard disk and shredded the SMS they printed, all in Lee’s full view. Lee left soon after.

Any actual misconduct?
Throughout her narrative, Lee did not put herself in the investigators’ shoes. To her, what the investigators did looks like police harassment. But to the police, it’s a necessary part of the investigation, if only because they need to cover themselves.
Some bloggers, most notably TOC’s Ghui, have argued that the police have better things to do than investigate Lee. I will point out that the best way to spike an ongoing investigation is to disclose operational details. Should Internal Affairs release a statement saying they are investigating officers X, Y and Z for police brutality, the suspects will move to destroy evidence, reach witnesses, and cook up coherent lies. Just because the police do not say they are doing something does not automatically mean they are not doing anything. It is still too soon to tell if the police are actually investigating the case, or have quietly dropped it down the memory hole.
Throughout this episode, we see two narratives. The first is state repression, the other is a bunch of imperfect men and women trying to do their jobs in an emotionally-charged context.
I agree that the police officers here have acted in a way that can be seen as police harassment, if not outright repression. But the purpose of state repression is to force undesirables to stop acting in a certain way or coerce them to act in a way favourable to the state. That requires communication of what these ways are, and coercive methods that deny freedom to act.
By Lee’s own account, she was not told to stop her work, take down her video clips, or retract her accusations. The police did not haul her off in handcuffs, seize her items irrespective of Ravi’s wishes, or send the Special Tactics And Rescue unit to break down her door and nab her. Lee, her friends and her family did not receive midnight visits, were not followed 24/7, searched and questioned on the street, beaten up, shot or ‘disappeared’. It should be noted that the police allowed her to remain in contact with the outside world at all times, letting her live-tweet from inside the police headquarters. The police also did not punish her for alleging police repression.
In addition, the police took pains to protect her privacy when examining her electronic data. The write blocker prevented them from inserting fabricated data, they deleted all traces of her data from their systems, and they shredded the SMS they printed. They also did not press Lee for her email password. A police state would instead retain all the data, make backups thereof, and coerce her into revealing her password.
If this were police misconduct, it is so mild that it does not even come close to half-hearted. Or effective.
Now let’s look at the other narrative, that of police officers trying to do their best. On this, Lee says:
Maybe it was necessary for investigators to do everything they could to rule out any wrongdoing on my part, but to borrow Ravi’s words, I think authorities were over zealous. They must think that I am absolutely rubbish at this journalism thing, or believe me dumb enough to throw away my career for a headline.
In Lee’s circles, she is a talented, dedicated, and tough journalist. To the police, she is just another witness-cum-potential-suspect. They cannot give her special treatment and cannot make any assumptions just because she says she did nothing wrong. They have jobs to do, and the requirements for this particular job are a little different from what most people are used to. Casting aspersions on the police, instead of examining what they did and why and whether or not they did their jobs properly, helps no one.

Questions, questions
While there is no evidence for outright police misconduct, as per Lee’s account, questions remain. Not enough to push the police into the realm of villains, but enough to keep them in that zone between black and white.
Firstly, the Internal Affairs Office is supposed to be an independent entity. Why was Superintendent Goh Tat Boon from Bedok Division even involved in this case? Was DSP Sim Ngin Kit also from IAO or from elsewhere?
Secondly, the police first obtained a copy of the files on Lee’s hard drive, and then demanded her computers and mobile phone the following day. The police would want to gather all the possible evidence in one shot, if only to save time and energy. Why was there an interval of one day? Was it follow-up, correcting a mistake, or something else?
Thirdly, which laws empower Superintendents Lim and Goh have to seize Lee’s property? If not Section 16(2), then which? Following on that, how could the police officers not cite the basis with which to seize Lee’s belongings? The Singapore Police Force has broad legal powers, and Singapore law does not have a fruit of the poisonous tree principle, which excludes evidence uncovered in illegal arrest or seizure and coerced interrogation. Such extraordinary power demands extraordinary responsibility, including the clear communication of the powers the police are exercising.
Fifthly, are the police sufficiently trained in soft skills? Lim and Goh’s conduct suggests otherwise. It is not merely enough for policemen to be ‘nice’. In a society that is increasingly assertive and aware of their rights, the police need to be able to justify their actions, obtain cooperation from a wide spectrum of personalities and stand up to public scrutiny.
Sixthly, who were the men who shadowed Lee? Were they police officers or from some other organisation? What was their mission, and what is the rationale of that mission? If they were not policemen, then what is their organisation’s interest in the affair?
Finally, was a First Information Report (FIR) made against Lee? Every police investigation starts with a police report, formally known as an FIR. It could be made by anyone, including a police officer, and the accused would not have the right to see the FIR until the exchange of documents before the trial. If there were an FIR, it means the police would treat Lee as a suspect. Not just a witness.
For all these questions, it should be remembered that the police officers for the most part handled themselves as well as they could, given the circumstances. The tech officers did protect Lee’s electronic privacy and they did not arrest her or detain her any longer than necessary. None of them prevented her from communicating with others, and they asked the questions and gathered the data needed to do their jobs, without gathering more personal information than they had to.
This incident does not show a powerful entity oppressing a journalist. It shows imperfect men and women doing their jobs under public scrutiny, and some of them failed to meet the high standards of the job. The world is not black and white; it is both and all colours in between.
 

scroobal

Alfrescian
Loyal
This guy before doing his NS blogged about the army. Guy sees a lot of US TVs shows as seen in his writings.

TOC is now a editorial team and rely on submissions. Very difficult when you are gazetted.

Lynn like Most NGOS / activists see the trees for the forest. Ben on the hand see no trees and no forest.

bro,
who is Ben Cheah?
 
Last edited:
Top