My grandpa passed away this morning at 7:08am.  We were too late to see him just before he died.  We could only stand and cry by his bedside in the hospital.  I wanted to hold his hand one last time but my relatives said that we shouldn't touch the body or his spirit would linger, not wanting to go, unable to pass on.

So I just closed my eyes and prayed, and asked God to send messages.

While we were in the car rushing over to Changi General Hospital, I realised I didn't even know his name.

How odd.

I didn't know his name, but I know the man I visited every two to three weeks.  I know the man to whom I sang songs like 'Yue liang dai biao wo de xin', or 'Above all', or even a stumbling rendition of a Hokkien song about shepherds, or so I'm told, that my dad said was his favourite (my ah kong smiled at that one).  I know the man who clapped his hands and said 'hao, hao!' when my sister and I had sung for him, the man to whose house I lugged my portable keyboard and my sister her violin so we could play for him.  I know the man whose trembling lips I spooned lukewarm coffee past, whose warm hand I held and whose stubbly grey head I stroked.

I know the man who rambled incoherently in his last days but who could still answer, when asked 'ye shu ai shuay?' -- 'ai wo', and when asked 'ye shu zai na li?', could answer: 'zai wo xin zhong'.  And that was the only thing he said for hours that anybody understood.  I know his sweet smile and his raspy laughter.

I knew my ah kong.  You would have liked him too.

---

hao, hao! - Good, good!
ye shu ai shuay? - Who does Jesus love?
ai wo - Loves me.
ye shu zai na li? - Where is Jesus?
zai wo xin zhong - In my heart.

---

Dedicated to the man whose name I never knew, but whom I loved.  1920 - 2006.

Do prove that my faith in democracy is not misplaced.

Current Idol popularity polls on singaporeidol.com place Jonathan ahead with 53.7% of the votes.  Many people feel Jonathan will win because people "don't want another Taufik".

Hady's not another Taufik.  He's miles ahead.

Jonathan can sing, but he's no match for Hady -- not at this stage.

Vote for Hady Mirza.

I woke earlier than usual today to visit Hong Lim Park, where the group of 8 protesters are still standing surrounded by a crowd of policemen, prevented from proceeding onto Parliament House.  As far as marches go, these people certainly haven't marched far.  They are only a few hundred metres from Speakers Corner, where the event was to begin yesterday, 16th September.  When I arrived, I had at first thought that my sources were outdated or misinformed, for there was astounding quiet and peace in the area.  I couldn't see a crowd as I approached the Park, nor could I hear anything except the calls of insects.  I had half expected, no doubt from the endless associations drawn for us between rallies/protests and violent shoot-outs, water canons and bottle-slinging, for there to be more of a disturbance.

When I found the area where the face-off was occurring, however, only one jarring sound seemed out of place from the usual hustle and bustle.  As I drew nearer, the puzzle was solved:


Several strapping German Shepherds had been tethered to trees and were making an unearthly din at a nearby stray whom no one was bothering to chase away; I surmise they were police dogs, anyone else's would probably have been culled or something.  They were straining at their bonds and generally being scary.  If this was a tactic to scare away anyone thinking about joining in the protest, I must say it worked pretty well.  Another dog lounged on the lawn with its handler and several other people I assumed to be plainclothes policemen.  Several other "keepers of peace" and defenders of public morality included:

I hung around for a little while, just watching the proceedings.  Everyone was calm and collected; there was no shouting, badgering, or heatedness.  Then a protester walked past me (I later found out he was on his way to the washroom) and I snapped a photo of him from behind:


I felt compelled to talk to this man, so on his way back, I accosted him and asked him for a short interview.  I found out that he was Gandhi Ambalam, a member of the Singapore Democratic Party.  Despite frequent claims by the PAP that opposition members -- perhaps those belonging to the SDP in particular -- are unqualified and sub-par, the government evidently did not find him unqualified for a PSC scholarship in his youth, and a later career as a civil servant.

I sat him down at a chess table in the park, and we began a simple chat.  I asked him how many protesters there were, and if they were all from the SDP.  "Eight," he said, "Some of them are graduates waiting to go into national service."

"That's...brave of them." I said bemusedly, thinking that trigger-happy conspiracists would be eager to condemn those men to hell in national service for having participated in dissident activities.

"Brave? What brave? There is no bravery.  There is no fear.  It should be natural." He said heatedly.  "It is natural that citizens want to think for themselves instead of simply following what we're told."

I simply nodded, inclining my head and murmuring agreement, and the conversation moved onto other areas.  He expressed his anger at the media for what he alleged was biased and irresponsible journalism.  "They said the event ended last night.  Those are lies.  The rally is still going on, we were here overnight and we will continue to stay.  I just went to wash my face." Here he rubbed his face and apologized, explaining, "Didn't sleep last night." I expressed my sympathy and let him continue.

"The media should tell the truth," he said firmly.  "They said the public complained about a disturbance.  Who complained?" (I wondered briefly if someone had complained about the German Shepherds; if they hadn't yet, someone jolly well should have).  "We had an appreciative crowd.  This is low level journalism.  I should know -- I was a journalist."

This threw me off quite a bit.  A journalist? Surely he couldn't have worked in Singapore? I asked him for clarification, and he informed me that he was Chief Editor in TCS (now known as Mediacorp) of News, "in all four languages".  When I returned home, a quick check confirmed his background as someone who used to work for the state media.

I couldn't resist.

"So was there censorship?" I asked.

He paused a while, and his mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before he grinned, and we both shared a laugh.

"You shouldn't be asking that," He reproached.

"No fear!" I quoted him.

"No, what fear, no fear," he hastened.  A short pause.  "I was there for almost 20 years.  Censorship is there.  Censorship is complete and total."

He qualified this statement, however, by adding that they chose people to fill the top positions whom they didn't need to censor, seeming to imply that the censorship was not direct nor immediate, but rather an unspoken agreement that made interference unnecessary.  "No media is free," he added.  "What we want is a pluralistic media.  If the Straits Times wants to be pro-PAP, go ahead.  Just don't come and lie to us and say that they always publish the truth as the national newspaper, as PM Lee claims.  Now you can go home, on your blog, and you can write what you think about me.  I won't change anything or interfere.  That is a pluralistic media, where there is a clash of views."

He also claimed that the media had published that the event had ended so as to dissuade supporters from turning up to watch (this was when I promised him to publish this on my blog so people would know what was going on, whether or not he was right about the media's intentions).  Aside from the media, he also cited the group's frustration with the authorities, whom he claimed had not told them why they were not being allowed to proceed despite repeated inquiries.

"But you are breaking the law," I pointed out.

"Which law?" He asked a little belligerently.

"The law that says that you can't gather in public without a permi --"

"Permit? What permit?" He asked me.  "Permit to walk? I was arrested in 2002 on the May Day Rally under the Public Entertainment Act, with Chee Soon Juan.  It used to be just the Public Entertainment Act, but it was changed later to become the Public Entertainment and Meetings Act.  They change the law as and when it suits them." (Note: Apparently the act was amended in 2000 and came into effect in 2001.)

He paused, calming down.  "We accept traffic rules.  But if a law is unjust, to hell with it.  We defy an unjust law to stand for the rule of law.  If we are doing something wrong, why don't they arrest us?"

"Probably to avoid negative publicity," I offered.

"Then that is inconsistency.  Oh, wait -- smile for the camera!"

I turned around to find myself face to face with a young chap holding a big big video camera, only a few metres away from us, directly and very obviously filming the interview (there was no one else in our vicinity and he had the equipment pointed straight at us).  I gave the camera my most brilliant smile and waved in several different poses.  Then I whipped out my own camera and snapped this:

...and after a few moments, he wandered off, now apparently filming the greenery at Hong Lim Park.  I turned back to the interview, dismissing any discomfort with amusement, and we continued.  I asked him about his interaction with Chee Soon Juan and for his opinion of the man.

"I've known him since 1993 to be a man of sincerity and honesty," he said.  "If the man is untrustworthy or a congenital liar, then why are we too afraid to interview him? And if Lee Kuan Yew is not afraid to be cross-examined in the witness box, as he has said, then why the summary judgment against the Chees?"

I wrapped up the discussion as the conversation dwindled by asking him how long they planned to carry on.

"Until they let us march," He said.  I was about to point out that that would be, well, never, when he qualified -- "Or until Tuesday, when PM Lee will make a speech for the World Bank and IMF meetings.  Then we will see what we will do.  We might respond to his speech, and by then we may have said what we wanted to say."

"So you will be here at least until Tuesday?" I asked, and he affirmed it.  That concluded things, and I snapped a final picture:

"I am not concerned at all about what the foreign media thinks [sic]. We are not here to fulfill their agenda."

-- 2nd Minister for Information, Communication and the Arts, Vivian Balakrishnan.

In a surprising turn of events, Singapore has decided to reverse its decision on the 22 out of the 27 banned activists who were accredited by the World Bank and the IMF.  Despite their earlier statements that they were firm on their decision, it seems that they have conceded to Wolfowitz's rather acerbic remarks.  I would comment more, but it is very late, and one needs sleep, and has a wedding march to play the piano for, tomorrow evening!

Update: Seelan Pillai was one of the three activists mentioned in the second paragraph. Latest reports say they have been released.

Father and son have filed a defamation suit against the Far Eastern Economic Review in a long-anticipated move after the magazine was warned to appoint a legal representative here in Singapore by a deadline of September 11 (let's just say a team always performs better on home ground, and Singaporean political libel suits are no exception).

This move is strongly ironic, given this excerpt from the FEER article available here:


Facing pressure from states is not a new experience for the magazine.  Under its late editor Derek Davies, it has tangled with governments such as Ferdinand Marcos's regime with its blistering articles.  Neither is it the magazine's first run-in with Singapore.  A libel suit was also launched against it in 1989 by - hmm, I wonder who - Lee Kuan Yew.  Lee was gruelled in the witness box for 5 days.  The magazine lost, and aggravated damages were awarded because the cross-examination "exacerbated the hurt to the plaintiff's feelings and the damage to his reputation." The magazine has been banned in Singapore before.

This might be the last nail in the coffin for the once-esteemed magazine, which has been struggling along for over a decade with a lacklustre performance.  Even the article itself, I feel, is mediocre.  The magazine has declined comment to date.

This is an interesting move to come on the heels of the summary judgment awarded to the Lees, against Chee Soon Juan and Chee Siok Chin, over the defamation suit launched against them after the events of the May elections.  Not only was it a summary judgment, i.e. they were given no trial, the Chees were also effectively bereft of legal representation as their lawyer M. Ravi was medically certified to be unwell.  I do suspect it might have indeed have been a strategic ploy to delay the judgment, but whether it was or not, the judge also allegedly denied the Chees the chance to look for another lawyer, given Ravi's absence.

Then again, what lawyer would have taken the case?

One expects the approaching demise of the FEER to add to the burial heap of foreign publications/writers which have had to pay damages and/or offer formal apologies to the Singaporean government for their articles.  This includes the Economist, Bloomberg News, Christopher Lingle and the International Herald Tribune.  To my knowledge, the IHT has had to pay the most notable damages, amounting to $675 000, which Lee said was donated to charities and educational organizations.  Clearly a noble enterprise.  If ever Lee does retire, perhaps he can look to launching libel suits against gutsy publications as a leisurely pursuit -- it's certainly much more meaningful than golf.

Think, after all, of the charities.

I returned from Bangkok yesterday afternoon to be greeted by striking banners that hailed the arrival of the IMF/WB delegates to Singapore.  A huge panel filled with smiling faces scratched annoyingly at my peripheral vision.  Tonight, returning home on the bus, I saw another double-decker bus decorated with nothing but smiles, smiles and smiles!

I'm sorry, but I'm quite disgusted. The whole affair is nothing but a cheap plastic, embarrassing multi-million-dollar scam.  We were told to behave ourselves like good children for our visitors.  Taxi drivers, don't talk politics! Waiters, waitresses, sales clerks, must smile and give them a good impression.  Brush up on your French or Spanish.  Poly students, make sure you speak proper English! Kids, behave. It seems, though, that our best behavior and efforts are not the most memorable characteristics of the occasion that delegates will walk away with.  Instead, it will be the sour taste of miscommunication and frustration.

No matter what happens these coming weeks, no matter if there are illegal marches on the streets or if everything is pulled off squeaky-clean, Singapore-style, I already consider the IMF/WB meetings a flop.  Singapore's gag on civic expression has been dragged into the international spotlight.  For goodness sakes, we can't even fill up the 11 000 hotel rooms set aside for the delegates.  More importantly though, any institution which wants to retain a reputation for consultative transparency and legitimacy will have to think twice -- or three or four or five times -- before it seriously considers Singapore as a destination for its conventions. 

Now, I don't believe the IMF and the World Bank could have chosen Singapore as a host destination without knowing that protesters would have a tough time.  They probably decided on Singapore because they wanted more security. 

What they seemed not to have bargained for, however, is the extent of Singapore's hardnosed and uncompromising refusal to accommodate, to negotiate, and to inform them ahead of time of their decisions (this is not the first time the World Bank has complained being told tardily of Singapore's decisions). 

I make that conclusion based on the simple calculation that despite the fact that we can only speculate as to the private discussion and correspondence between the parties involved, we may safely say that Singapore would not countenance undergoing so much public blame if such blame were unfairly placed.  In other words, the extent of the World Bank or the IMF's complicity in any 'conspiracy' to stifle the participation of activists in the meetings is limited, because of the negative publicity that seems to have spun out of the Singapore government's control; publicity that I doubt the government would allow to continue without clarification unless it were true: that the Singaporean authorities really have been uncommunicative, tardy in their releases of information, and just plain stubborn. 

And now that that no-nonsense adamancy has been revealed, there is little reason or excuse for any other similar convention/round to make its way to Singapore again.  Nope, we'll have to settle for the 2013 SEA Games, my friends.

But -- lo and behold! Defying all reason, intuition and instinct, the Straits Times's 6-page special report printed today (09/09/06) cheerfully reports World Bank Singapore Representative Mr. Stephens's assessment of the relationship between Singapore and his organization to be a "full, rich and very rewarding relationship", with no mention whatsoever of the disagreement which, going by the above report and by other international accounts, has become a full-blown public spat.  For instance:
Oh yes, let's remind ourselves one more time why they cannot corrobate it.  Because terrorist attacks to the best of my knowledge do not occur at maximum-security occasions.  They do not occur at WTO rounds, APEC summits, or ASEAN meetings.  They occur on buses in London.  They occur on an average workday, 9/11, in New York City.  They occur on trains in Madrid.  They occur when tourists least expect it in Bali.  Allow me to suggest that we should ban buses, trains, cancel work and close our country to tourists because of the threat of terrorist attack.  That would actually make more sense than banning public demonstrations under maximum security.  That is why the government's concern over terrorist attacks as a reason for banning protests is noble but uncorrobated.  Of course, though, the Straits Times would never question self-evidently good intentions.

And neither would Singaporeans.  I was at the Bangkok forum for Free Expression in Singapore, organized by the Southeast Asian Press Alliance earlier this week, and a reporter asked the panel whether or not a big part of the problem was simply that Singaporeans were unwilling to go out there and hold a demonstration even if it means getting arrested.  I essentially said yes; it's a huge part.  Why would any reasonable Singaporean jeopardize his security, his bankbook, his comfortable job, and everything he's worked so hard to build in his life, for the sake of something as abstract as a right? Why would the masses do something like that, especially since the connections are drawn so early for them by the textbooks and the media, connections between stability and prosperity, the Great Impeccable Clockwork and their precious livelihoods.  No one wants to mess with that.  Well, no one except Chee Soon Juan and his homies, reportedly.  And then I told her frankly: "If you're a Singaporean and you want to go to jail for your beliefs, please go right ahead.  But don't expect anyone to be holding your name up on placards.  They'll be reporting to work from 9 to 5." Alex Au, during his speech, also laid much of the responsibility on the shoulders of Singaporeans who have been conditioned to love their government in what he called an apparent manifestation of the Stockholm Syndrome (the phenomenon whereby the captive comes to sympathize with or have affection for his/her kidnapper).

This is why I think maybe Singapore shouldn't have bothered to ban outdoor protests for foreign activists.  Go ahead and have double standards for foreigners and locals.  No Singaporeans will show up anyway, except Chee, who plans to be there, ban or no.  Even though this is a fantastic opportunity, with representatives from foreign media crowding the place, and activists milling about ready to support and encourage other like-minded English-educated radicals, Singaporeans just aren't ready or willing to harness it.  Well... maybe if they hadn't banned it though, the sight of long lines of people just walking down a road, just being there and expressing, through their presence, through their expressions, through the words on their signs or their calls and cheers, an opinion -- maybe that sight would have been a breath of democracy that would have stirred life in the Singaporean soul.  Maybe that's what they're afraid of after all, more than terrorist attacks or bomb plants.  Maybe they're afraid of us.

So if you'll be at home for the next weeks, kicking back and relaxing after a long hard day of work, watching TV and learning how the delegates were all thrilled by, ohmigawd, the efficiency of how things are run in Singapore, and the warm welcomes, and the lion dances, and the great service, then smile! Cos you're a trueblue Singaporean, one in a million or four.  Oh, they would be proud.