Speaking out
For the silent majority
What the Singaporean needs is more public debate of policies harmful to him, particularly among establishment insiders. By Seah Chiang Nee
May 31, 2008

AT A time when troubled Singaporeans need more sympathetic elite figures to voice their unhappy feelings against the government, along comes the state’s retired top civil servant.

He is 70-year-old Ngiam Tong Dow, a prominent member of Singapore’s founding generation, who has delivered a series of remarkably biting messages for the leadership, young and old.

Singapore is not known as a place where influential people openly discuss government shortcomings, let alone criticise these.

Many do not speak out even when they feel things are not going right for fear of upsetting the leaders, particularly Minister Mentor Lee Kuan Yew.

An exception was Ngiam, who said in a recent dialogue that most of today’s younger ministers come from well-to-do or upper-class families.

“So they 'really do not know' the impact of, say, a policy such as a 10-cent bus fare rise on ordinary families,” he said.

“If you’re from a poor family like my generation, you’ll know very well (the impact) if the bus fare goes up by 10 cents, multiply by three or four times, 50 cents for the whole family.”

His suggestion: top civil servants should first start by doing ‘nitty-gritty’ work on the ground before being slotted to make policies.

On a previous occasion he warned against bureaucratic inertia.

“The greatest danger is we are flying on auto-pilot. What was once a great policy, we just carry on with more of the same, until reality intervenes,” he noted.

Then arrogance! “There is also a particular brand of Singapore elite arrogance creeping in,” he said. “Some civil servants behave like they have a mandate from the emperor. We think we are little Lee Kuan Yews (without earning our spurs).”

Ngiam speaks with the knowledge of an insider. He has served in the elite Singapore Administrative Service for more than 40 years, and played a major role in transforming Singapore into a textbook case in development economics.

A lesser mover is Tan Kin Lian, the former chief of Income, the insurance arm of the official National Trade Unions Congress.

Tan used his web-blog to campaign against his former company’s move to restructure bonus payouts for life policies that works against holders.

And two years ago, Lee Kuan Yew’s daughter Associate Professor Lee Wei Ling went public to criticise Singapore’s multi-billion dollar biomedical research strategy as being badly misdirected.

It was spending large sums on cancer, heart disease and stem cells, with the setting up state-of-the art laboratories and pulling in top brains from around the world.

Lee, who is Director of the National Neuroscience Institute, said it was pointless to compete with the top Western research centres doing the same thing with bigger budgets and longer experience.

Instead, she said, Singapore should concentrate on niche areas with relevance to Asia, like hepatitis and head injuries.

When the government rejected her call, Lee vowed to carry on her fight for change. “We’re talking about billions of dollars in taxpayers’ money,” she said. “I will not let this mistake continue.”

It was a rare public debate of top policy-makers. Few, however, believe that Lee’s daughter will get into trouble for speaking her mind.

Most other disagreements within the establishment are almost always kept within the four walls, away from the public.

What the average Singaporean wants is more licence for public debate of policies harmful to him – particularly among establishment figures.

There has, however, been a gradual opening up in the past decade.

To the younger citizens, however, Singapore’s “soft authoritarianism” is less than what they want or what a creative modern city should be.

All these years the ruling People’s Action Party and the civil service have laid claims – through super high salaries – to some of the state’s best educated.

The majority settle into their careers without wanting to rock the boat, even when they disagree with a government policy.

In the course of the years, however, there had been a few exceptions of outspoken government people.

Three years ago, East Coast MP Tan Soo Khoon accused the government of waste in spending billions to build new luxurious buildings, which he termed the “Seven Wonders of Singapore”.

Likening seven new lavish offices to five-star hotels, Tan asked whether these ministries and statutory boards were competing to see “which can be better than the Four Seasons Hotel”.

During the years of strong growth, money was easy to come by and it was easy to spend. “Only now, when it has become difficult, we begin to sit up and take notice,” Tan chided the government.

In the 2006 election, 33% of the votes went to the opposition, but it managed to win only two seats – or 2.4% – of the 84 seats in Parliament.

With such a lop-sided representation, it is imperative that this large opposition bloc has public figures to speak up for them outside the realm of politics.

Being from the inside, retired or current members of the government are best suited to contribute meaningful discussions because of their inside knowledge.

Ngiam’s act of speaking out is widely admired. He says what many Singaporeans want, if they could.

Asked in an interview whether Singapore would survive Lee Kuan Yew, he said, “Yes, provided he leaves behind the right legacy.”

And what is that? Ngiam was asked.

“It’s for him to say, but I, a blooming upstart, dare to suggest to him that we should open up politically and allow talent to be spread throughout our society so that an alternative leadership can emerge,” he replied.

(This was first published in The Star, Malaysia on May 31, 2008)