NKF
saga
Changing the future
May impact on politics. Singaporeans resent being cheated
or exploited; difference is they have the means to rally
quickly.By Seah Chiang Nee
Jul 17, 2005
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from readers
The
final chapter is not yet written, but what has happened
at the National Kidney Foundation (NKF) has already made
history in Singapore.
Score
one: For the first time, mass public action has resulted
in the ouster of a strong elite - its powerful CEO T.T Durai.
The Chairman and the entire Board also stepped down.
Rarely
have Singaporeans showed such unanimous purpose in demanding
change and it worked, an undeniable plus for democracy.
They deserve the biggest credit.
Explanation?
A generation of Singaporeans has been raised by Mr. Lee
Kuan Yew into believing in honesty and transparency.
Theirs
is a powerful message to all politicians that despite their
apparent meekness, they will not tolerate it if their trust
and generosity is abused. Two out of three had contributed
to NKF.
Secondly,
the power of The Internet (hitherto ridiculed as 'all talk
no action') in bringing change in society was evident. It
successfully rallied the masses within two days and helped
convince the government that speedy action was crucial.
Bravo,
ST and Mr. Khaw
The
first credit, however, should go to The Straits Times (in
particular reporter Susan Long) for standing up to an all-too
common defamation threat by an influential entity. It couldn't
have asked for a better 160th birthday present.
If the
newspaper (frequently accused of being too obedient) had
lost its nerve, the warts in the National Kidney Foundation
would have remained hidden, possibly leading to a bigger
blow-up later on.
And
a big pat on the back, too, for Health Minister, Mr. Khaw
Boon Wan, who acted with incredible speed and pressed all
the right buttons to nudge out the old and ring in the new.
In fact, the whole government machinery moved decisively.
Immediate
impacts
Firstly,
the controversial corporate culture that has crept into
Singapore's biggest charity body, including its chief executive's
large pay and perks, has come to an end.
It is
unlikely that people will accept a high spending culture
to take hold of charity again.
Secondly,
the rejection of paying mega-wages to charity executives
has moved into politics and the civil service, with the
same arguments.
Charity
and government are about service to people; Singapore is
too small and its economy is still weak.
Thirdly,
Some smarter charities and GPO's will start looking at their
own operations, including salaries and perks of their directors
or CEOs - just in case.
Fourthly,
people in public service will probably be reminded again
to watch their action and words and avoid overly lavish
spending. Actually Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong recently
appealed to the ruling elite against arrogance, one of the
charges levelled on Mr. Durai. There are othrs like him.
Nowadays,
more Singaporeans are openly complaining about elites living
lavish lifestyle when the income gap between the rich and
poor is widening.
History
in other countries has showed how such developments have
ended.
The
NKF dam broke after Mr. Durai was forced to admit that his
annual remuneration was $600,000 (including 12 months bonus)
or S1.8m in three years.
In addition
his office had luxurious toilet fittings, a gold-plated
tap and he had traveled first-class all on money collected
for needy kidney patients.
At the
press conference, Health Minister Khaw Boon Wan said the
new Board and CEO would review the Foundation's practices
and map a new future. "If it reveals anything illegal,
we will take action."
The
impact was felt throughout the whole charity scene that
may take time to heal. Even
after the change, a Channel News Asia survey revealed that
84% of 1,600 Singaporeans declared they had lost confidence
in donating to charities.
On his
plus side, the hard-working, entrepreneurial Durai had compiled
an extraordinary horde of S$260m, enough for 30 years of
current subsidies for patients.
His
staff describes him as a passionate man with a mission who
works 12-14 hours a day, seven days a week. In 37 years
he had engineered a good money-raising machine that has
saved many lives.
Durai
evidently believed that the end justified the means and
that his success entitled him to corporate-size rewards,
irrespective of the charity objective.
All
this has also led to calls for similar reviews on non-government
and even government agencies to ensure no NKF-type diseases
lurk.
He also
lied or misled the public into believing that the Foundation
had reserves for only three years (instead of 30-40) and
was handling 3,000 patients when it had only fewer than
2,000.
Unknown
to NKF directors, Durai held several directorships, which
paid him S$25,000 a year. He also had commercial ties with
a company that had a contract with the NKF.
The
controversy threatened to involve the government, when its
patron Mrs. Goh Chok Tong announced her "complete trust
in NKF and its CEO."
Adding
fuel to fire, she had described Durai's $600,000 pay as
"peanuts" for someone who ran a multi-million
dollar charity.
Mr.
Goh has since said that his wife has regretted making the
remarks. This, however, came a day after another online
petition (3,100 signatures) had started asking her to apologise.
Critics
accused her of being out of touch with the people. With
the average Singaporeans jobless or under-employed or suffered
salary cuts, her remarks stirred deep resentment.
Although
she was speaking in her personal capacity, some PAP supporters
fear it would damage the party or her husband's image.
On a
wider picture, the government's major concern lies on the
decline of the public's participation in charity.
This
is worrying because in the face of rising health costs,
it is relying more and more on private organisations like
the National Kidney Foundation to look after the poor and
sick.
In fact,
the NKF has just extended its operation to include cancer
patients and help children of patients.
Singapore
has always rejected welfarism, considering it best for families
and the society, not taxpayers, to take care of the needy.
If the
NKF's fund-raising abilities are scarred or if public generosity
does not recover, the country's aged and sick will be affected.
With the promise of reforms, a few donors say they are ready
to refocus on the Foundation's viability.
Kidney
failure is on the rise here and dialysis treatment costs
at least S$2,000 a month.
NKF
subsidises only 20 per cent of this, which pales in comparison
to the high administrative budget. It will likely come under
review.
With
the success of this mass movement in creatively bringing
about changes in society, it has become clear that politics
will no longer be the same.
Lawrence
Tan, a 20-year-old national serviceman, played a landmark
role when his online website petitioning for Mr. Durai's
resignation or ouster, received some 40,000 signatures.
Internet
petition is, of course, not new; it had been used recently
to oppose lifting the ban on casinos and the hike in cinema
prices. But his is the first success.
Will
this 'people power' work in other areas? Not unless agitators
have a just, popular cause.
The
Singaporean masses will probably react only to a major provocation
- and the NKF case has provided some benchmarks what it
can be.
Seah Chiang Nee