https://www.straitstimes.com/opinion/pap-and-the-politics-of-dominance
The Govt wants to retain its dominance in the political and intellectual sphere, but must beware of becoming domineering
Like the Singaporeans who have taken to social media to express their views, I was disturbed by the way Education Minister Ong Ye Kung cited a few lines from Alfian Sa'at's poetry to paint him as someone who might be disloyal to Singapore.
Mr Ong quoted these lines from Mr Alfian's well-known poem written when he was 21, Singapore You Are Not My Country:
"Singapore, I assert you are not a country at all
Do not raise your voice against me, I am not afraid of your anthem...
"...How can you call yourself a country,
you terrible hallucination of highways and cranes and condominiums ten minutes' drive from the MRT?"
Mr Ong added: "This is a poem, and we might concede some artistic licence. But Mr Alfian Sa'at continues this attitude consistently in his activism."
As a literature student, I know well enough that the views expressed by the narrator of a poem written in the first person should not be conflated with the poet's own.
A male poet may write as a woman, or child; and a poet may write in the voice of an animal or even, as in the nursery rhyme, as a teapot. Writing "I am a teapot" does not mean the poet sees himself literally as a teapot.
That Mr Alfian used the pronoun "I" does not mean he ascribes to all the views used in his poetry. He may indeed do so; but it is simplistic to ascribe sentiments expressed in a form of literary fiction - a poem - directly to the poet.
As the Education Minister who received a fine education himself - in the London School of Economics and Political Science no less - Mr Ong must have known better.
Yet he did do so, in the context of a parliamentary debate on why Yale-NUS cancelled a controversial module on dissent Mr Alfian had been engaged to teach. The course outline included a workshop on making protest signs and talks by people who had been convicted of public order offences and had public run-ins with government leaders. Mr Ong's contention was that the university did right to cancel the course, the Ministry of Education (MOE) supported the decision, and that academic freedom did not give anyone carte blanche to misuse universities for political advocacy.
Like Mr Ong, I too think that the average Singaporean exercising his common sense would conclude, based on facts already made public, that "this is a programme that was filled with motives and objectives other than learning and education".
He added: "And MOE's stand is that we cannot allow such activities in our schools or IHLs (institutes of higher learning). Political conscientisation is not the taxpayer's idea of what education means."
Leaving aside the issue of academic freedom, artists and a sprinkling of intellectual stalwarts have spoken out in Mr Alfian's defence, saying it was unfair to cite a few lines from his work out of context, to brand him anti-Singapore.
Many netizens have been vocal about this issue, with some expressing disappointment that a key member of the 4G leadership should be so uncompromising.
Whatever happened to Deputy Prime Minister Heng Swee Keat's promise to "listen with humility and respect" to Singaporeans and his pledge to "partner Singaporeans" to build a better Singapore? And Mr Ong's own view that Singapore needs more diversity - of backgrounds and views - in the top rungs of government?
There are three ways to interpret this episode.
The first is that the 4G is a chip off the old block. Inheriting the same political DNA as the first three generations of People's Action Party (PAP) leaders, it is now merely showing its true colours.
Online, some commenters drew this conclusion, citing the use of tactics of name-calling, character assassination and ad hominem attacks to label critics negatively. The 4G in this view is just new wine in old bottles, and Singapore's political development is as stymied today as in the 1980s and 1990s.
The second reading is to take Mr Ong's comments at face value. As the MOE said in response to queries, Mr Ong agreed with those who advocate the importance of freedom of speech.
The MOE noted: "As he said in Parliament, '... individuals... are entitled to their views and feelings about Singapore. They can write about them, vent them on social media, and even have a following.'
"Minister Ong then said, 'But we have to decide whether we allow such forms of political resistance free rein in our education institutions, and even taught as compulsory, credit-bearing programmes.'
"This is the key issue that the parliamentary reply sought to address."
On one level, therefore, this debate had the MOE spelling out guidelines for universities on selecting instructors and lecturers. They have to abide by three Nos: "They should not work with speakers and instructors who have been convicted of public order-related offences, or who are working with political advocacy groups funded by foreigners, or who openly show disloyalty to Singapore."
From this vantage point, it was perfectly understandable and reasonable for Mr Ong to throw shade on Mr Alfian over his past writings, comments and activities, which taken together may paint him as someone with decidedly ambiguous feelings about Singapore.
There is then no reason to feel disheartened about what this episode says about the 4G leadership's approach to openness and freedom of speech. Mr Ong was merely reiterating what any university head should already know: That one does not permit one's institution to be hijacked by activists out to destroy the country's stability.
The protests in Hong Kong, with thousands of students out in the streets every weekend protesting against the government, serve as a silent backdrop to the entire Yale-NUS episode. Whatever one thinks of the causes of unrest, the fact is that Hong Kong's education system produced a generation of young people who are turning violent against their own government and police force, and prefer to appeal to foreign powers. Some reports say that many teachers in Hong Kong are anti-China and have long influenced their students to view their society through anti-Chinese lenses. The fear that Singaporean students may be similarly influenced by wrong-minded teachers must weigh on the minds of leaders here.
Between the two poles of thinking that Singapore is stuck in an illiberal past and that the Yale-NUS episode is only about academic freedom, not political liberties, lies a middle ground. There is a third way of interpreting the episode.
This is to view the Yale-NUS episode within the context of a series of recent events when the Government has come down hard and strong against its critics, or has been uncompromising in spelling out red lines not to be crossed. Examples include passing the Protection from Online Falsehoods and Manipulation Act against fake news and grilling historian Thum Ping Tjin over his assertion that the PAP Government is the purveyor of fake news in using security concerns as an excuse to round up political opponents in the 1963 Operation Coldstore.
These are examples of the PAP asserting its dominance in the public arena. The PAP is used to being the dominant party - indeed the dominant force - in Singapore. As executive, its power is embedded in every sphere of life. As legislature, it controls 83 of 89 elected seats in Parliament. The presidency is directly elected, but the Government has influence over the selection of candidates via the Presidential Elections Committee.
Its vote share may have dipped to 60 per cent in 2011, but it clearly wants to be the dominant force in Singapore. This extends beyond electoral politics - where its pole position remains unchallenged - to the sphere of public opinion and public discourse.
In the brick-and-mortar agora of the past, it could make sure its voice was not only heard but also pre-eminent. In the agora that is the Internet and social media today, the PAP Government fears its voice might be drowned out, or diluted. This explains both its vigilance over mainstream media and its keenness to use legislative tools at its disposal to control the Internet space.
Sociologist Teo You Yenn also expounds in a recent essay on how a person or entity in power uses the tactic of penalising those who speak "out of turn", as a way to assert its dominance and keep others in check by denying them substantive voice because of who they are, rather than because of the substance of their views.
"To be seen as or accused of speaking out of turn is to be reminded one has no right to speak. It is to have one's views be cast as illegitimate because of who one is. It is a kind of illegitimacy that has less to do with the content of the speech and more with the position of the speaker relative to that of other speakers in a field.
"As a weapon, how does it work? Not everyone can cast this aspersion. It has to come from a place of actual power. Once cast, a signal is sent that it is free for all. There is a pile-up, compounding the thing, and attacks get increasingly personal and vicious."
Now, I am not saying the Yale-NUS episode is anything like what is being described by Associate Professor Teo. There was no open season on Mr Alfian. Indeed, it was Mr Ong who faced personal attacks on social media, and Mr Alfian who urged his supporters to confine their criticisms to the policies, not the person, of the minister.
But such personal attacks are by no means unknown in Singapore politics of the past. In the politics of dominance, you let up and relax at your peril. Critics are not friendly or loving; they are opponents to be discredited, if not demolished, for fear their views may take root to one day threaten your dominance.
The politics of dominance carried the PAP thus far; perhaps the new generation of leaders believe it will continue to carry them ahead to waves of electoral victory.
This is not to say that the Government has not made use of its power to do many good things for Singaporeans. In recent years, it has improved social policy and Singapore now has a reasonably robust social safety net. It has also been sincere and thorough in having more consultation before formulating policies, on everything from cyber security to competition policy to placement of new rail lines. The general trajectory is indeed towards more diversity, openness and consultation.
However, in the area of political contest, or issues to do with political freedom, the PAP continues to operate by a familiar playbook that includes the occasional use of strong-arm tactics to counter critics.
However, the 2010s is not the 1980s, or even the 1990s.
Those of my generation and older, born in the 1960s and earlier, have seen partisan politics playing out, close up, throughout the last three decades. We saw political opponents slapped with defamation suits and bankrupted; we saw opposition politicians' characters called into question (some deservedly). Whatever we may have felt, many of us could not exercise our choice at the ballot box. We were the Walkover Generation, in constituencies with frequent no contests.
Today, those in my generation, in their 40s and 50s, are stable family burghers, stalwarts of their companies, leaders of corporations who understand the need for stability and good government. But Singaporeans also have a strong sense of fair play. Being dominant is one thing; coming across as bullying or unfairly targeting frailer opponents is quite another.
And after all, today's electoral landscape and voters are different. The opposition is stronger, and keen to contest in every constituency.
Younger voters have a different expectation of their political leaders. Among my Facebook friends are a few young civil servants active in the literary scene, who openly came out in defence of Mr Alfian and disagreed with the Education Minister.
In fighting to retain its dominant position in the Singapore political and intellectual landscape, the PAP Government has to tread carefully that it does not go overboard and become perceived not as the dominant force leading the country, but as the domineering party ready and willing to thumb down its critics.
A version of this article appeared in the print edition of The Sunday Times on October 13, 2019, with the headline 'PAP and the politics of dominance'.
The Govt wants to retain its dominance in the political and intellectual sphere, but must beware of becoming domineering
Like the Singaporeans who have taken to social media to express their views, I was disturbed by the way Education Minister Ong Ye Kung cited a few lines from Alfian Sa'at's poetry to paint him as someone who might be disloyal to Singapore.
Mr Ong quoted these lines from Mr Alfian's well-known poem written when he was 21, Singapore You Are Not My Country:
"Singapore, I assert you are not a country at all
Do not raise your voice against me, I am not afraid of your anthem...
"...How can you call yourself a country,
you terrible hallucination of highways and cranes and condominiums ten minutes' drive from the MRT?"
Mr Ong added: "This is a poem, and we might concede some artistic licence. But Mr Alfian Sa'at continues this attitude consistently in his activism."
As a literature student, I know well enough that the views expressed by the narrator of a poem written in the first person should not be conflated with the poet's own.
A male poet may write as a woman, or child; and a poet may write in the voice of an animal or even, as in the nursery rhyme, as a teapot. Writing "I am a teapot" does not mean the poet sees himself literally as a teapot.
That Mr Alfian used the pronoun "I" does not mean he ascribes to all the views used in his poetry. He may indeed do so; but it is simplistic to ascribe sentiments expressed in a form of literary fiction - a poem - directly to the poet.
As the Education Minister who received a fine education himself - in the London School of Economics and Political Science no less - Mr Ong must have known better.
Yet he did do so, in the context of a parliamentary debate on why Yale-NUS cancelled a controversial module on dissent Mr Alfian had been engaged to teach. The course outline included a workshop on making protest signs and talks by people who had been convicted of public order offences and had public run-ins with government leaders. Mr Ong's contention was that the university did right to cancel the course, the Ministry of Education (MOE) supported the decision, and that academic freedom did not give anyone carte blanche to misuse universities for political advocacy.
Like Mr Ong, I too think that the average Singaporean exercising his common sense would conclude, based on facts already made public, that "this is a programme that was filled with motives and objectives other than learning and education".
He added: "And MOE's stand is that we cannot allow such activities in our schools or IHLs (institutes of higher learning). Political conscientisation is not the taxpayer's idea of what education means."
Leaving aside the issue of academic freedom, artists and a sprinkling of intellectual stalwarts have spoken out in Mr Alfian's defence, saying it was unfair to cite a few lines from his work out of context, to brand him anti-Singapore.
Many netizens have been vocal about this issue, with some expressing disappointment that a key member of the 4G leadership should be so uncompromising.
Whatever happened to Deputy Prime Minister Heng Swee Keat's promise to "listen with humility and respect" to Singaporeans and his pledge to "partner Singaporeans" to build a better Singapore? And Mr Ong's own view that Singapore needs more diversity - of backgrounds and views - in the top rungs of government?
There are three ways to interpret this episode.
The first is that the 4G is a chip off the old block. Inheriting the same political DNA as the first three generations of People's Action Party (PAP) leaders, it is now merely showing its true colours.
Online, some commenters drew this conclusion, citing the use of tactics of name-calling, character assassination and ad hominem attacks to label critics negatively. The 4G in this view is just new wine in old bottles, and Singapore's political development is as stymied today as in the 1980s and 1990s.
The second reading is to take Mr Ong's comments at face value. As the MOE said in response to queries, Mr Ong agreed with those who advocate the importance of freedom of speech.
The MOE noted: "As he said in Parliament, '... individuals... are entitled to their views and feelings about Singapore. They can write about them, vent them on social media, and even have a following.'
"Minister Ong then said, 'But we have to decide whether we allow such forms of political resistance free rein in our education institutions, and even taught as compulsory, credit-bearing programmes.'
"This is the key issue that the parliamentary reply sought to address."
On one level, therefore, this debate had the MOE spelling out guidelines for universities on selecting instructors and lecturers. They have to abide by three Nos: "They should not work with speakers and instructors who have been convicted of public order-related offences, or who are working with political advocacy groups funded by foreigners, or who openly show disloyalty to Singapore."
From this vantage point, it was perfectly understandable and reasonable for Mr Ong to throw shade on Mr Alfian over his past writings, comments and activities, which taken together may paint him as someone with decidedly ambiguous feelings about Singapore.
There is then no reason to feel disheartened about what this episode says about the 4G leadership's approach to openness and freedom of speech. Mr Ong was merely reiterating what any university head should already know: That one does not permit one's institution to be hijacked by activists out to destroy the country's stability.
The protests in Hong Kong, with thousands of students out in the streets every weekend protesting against the government, serve as a silent backdrop to the entire Yale-NUS episode. Whatever one thinks of the causes of unrest, the fact is that Hong Kong's education system produced a generation of young people who are turning violent against their own government and police force, and prefer to appeal to foreign powers. Some reports say that many teachers in Hong Kong are anti-China and have long influenced their students to view their society through anti-Chinese lenses. The fear that Singaporean students may be similarly influenced by wrong-minded teachers must weigh on the minds of leaders here.
Between the two poles of thinking that Singapore is stuck in an illiberal past and that the Yale-NUS episode is only about academic freedom, not political liberties, lies a middle ground. There is a third way of interpreting the episode.
This is to view the Yale-NUS episode within the context of a series of recent events when the Government has come down hard and strong against its critics, or has been uncompromising in spelling out red lines not to be crossed. Examples include passing the Protection from Online Falsehoods and Manipulation Act against fake news and grilling historian Thum Ping Tjin over his assertion that the PAP Government is the purveyor of fake news in using security concerns as an excuse to round up political opponents in the 1963 Operation Coldstore.
These are examples of the PAP asserting its dominance in the public arena. The PAP is used to being the dominant party - indeed the dominant force - in Singapore. As executive, its power is embedded in every sphere of life. As legislature, it controls 83 of 89 elected seats in Parliament. The presidency is directly elected, but the Government has influence over the selection of candidates via the Presidential Elections Committee.
Its vote share may have dipped to 60 per cent in 2011, but it clearly wants to be the dominant force in Singapore. This extends beyond electoral politics - where its pole position remains unchallenged - to the sphere of public opinion and public discourse.
In the brick-and-mortar agora of the past, it could make sure its voice was not only heard but also pre-eminent. In the agora that is the Internet and social media today, the PAP Government fears its voice might be drowned out, or diluted. This explains both its vigilance over mainstream media and its keenness to use legislative tools at its disposal to control the Internet space.
Sociologist Teo You Yenn also expounds in a recent essay on how a person or entity in power uses the tactic of penalising those who speak "out of turn", as a way to assert its dominance and keep others in check by denying them substantive voice because of who they are, rather than because of the substance of their views.
"To be seen as or accused of speaking out of turn is to be reminded one has no right to speak. It is to have one's views be cast as illegitimate because of who one is. It is a kind of illegitimacy that has less to do with the content of the speech and more with the position of the speaker relative to that of other speakers in a field.
"As a weapon, how does it work? Not everyone can cast this aspersion. It has to come from a place of actual power. Once cast, a signal is sent that it is free for all. There is a pile-up, compounding the thing, and attacks get increasingly personal and vicious."
Now, I am not saying the Yale-NUS episode is anything like what is being described by Associate Professor Teo. There was no open season on Mr Alfian. Indeed, it was Mr Ong who faced personal attacks on social media, and Mr Alfian who urged his supporters to confine their criticisms to the policies, not the person, of the minister.
But such personal attacks are by no means unknown in Singapore politics of the past. In the politics of dominance, you let up and relax at your peril. Critics are not friendly or loving; they are opponents to be discredited, if not demolished, for fear their views may take root to one day threaten your dominance.
The politics of dominance carried the PAP thus far; perhaps the new generation of leaders believe it will continue to carry them ahead to waves of electoral victory.
This is not to say that the Government has not made use of its power to do many good things for Singaporeans. In recent years, it has improved social policy and Singapore now has a reasonably robust social safety net. It has also been sincere and thorough in having more consultation before formulating policies, on everything from cyber security to competition policy to placement of new rail lines. The general trajectory is indeed towards more diversity, openness and consultation.
However, in the area of political contest, or issues to do with political freedom, the PAP continues to operate by a familiar playbook that includes the occasional use of strong-arm tactics to counter critics.
However, the 2010s is not the 1980s, or even the 1990s.
Those of my generation and older, born in the 1960s and earlier, have seen partisan politics playing out, close up, throughout the last three decades. We saw political opponents slapped with defamation suits and bankrupted; we saw opposition politicians' characters called into question (some deservedly). Whatever we may have felt, many of us could not exercise our choice at the ballot box. We were the Walkover Generation, in constituencies with frequent no contests.
Today, those in my generation, in their 40s and 50s, are stable family burghers, stalwarts of their companies, leaders of corporations who understand the need for stability and good government. But Singaporeans also have a strong sense of fair play. Being dominant is one thing; coming across as bullying or unfairly targeting frailer opponents is quite another.
And after all, today's electoral landscape and voters are different. The opposition is stronger, and keen to contest in every constituency.
Younger voters have a different expectation of their political leaders. Among my Facebook friends are a few young civil servants active in the literary scene, who openly came out in defence of Mr Alfian and disagreed with the Education Minister.
In fighting to retain its dominant position in the Singapore political and intellectual landscape, the PAP Government has to tread carefully that it does not go overboard and become perceived not as the dominant force leading the country, but as the domineering party ready and willing to thumb down its critics.
A version of this article appeared in the print edition of The Sunday Times on October 13, 2019, with the headline 'PAP and the politics of dominance'.
