Reclaiming our ('not-the-PAP' version) history

In a post last year, i recommended a new book titled Paths Not Taken: Political Pluralism in Post-War Singapore. I've begun reading the book again. I spent some time typing out parts of the Introduction which you can read below. I've also included titles of the Chapters from the book.

‘Reclamation” is a very familiar concept to Singaporeans. The sea is continually being ‘reclaimed’ and the coastline smoothed to allow for new housing and industrial estates. The term ‘reclamation’ also means retrieving something that has been lost. The chapters in this book contribute towards both kinds of reclamation. One the one hand, we intend to construct new, refreshing and sometimes challenging histories of Singapore. On the other hand, we want to reclaim for future generations the memory of a period extending from late colonial days into the 1960s when Singapore was host to a dynamic and idealistic culture of political contestation and pluralism.

When we say these histories are ‘new’, we simply mean that they have not been written into the history of Singapore as it is usually told. They are ‘new’ histories based on old memories and archives that have, for the most part, been neglected or forgotten – and so are ‘paths’ that have not been taken. The result, we hope, is an upgraded conception of Singaporean history – not one that replaces the standard ‘Singapore Story’ sponsored by the regime, but one that complements it, allowing the histories of those unrecognised contributors to the construction of Singapore to be told alongside those who have claimed sole responsibility.

Most of the papers in this book were first presented in 2005 at an international symposium hosted in Singapore by the National University of Singapore’s Asia Research Institute (ARI) under the direction of Professor Anthony Reid and opened by Mrs Jean Marshall, the widow of Singapore’s first Chief Minister, David Marshall.

The Symposium

The symposium was planned as an academic conference for about three dozen scholars who could sit around a table and discuss each others’ research papers. When registrations from the public passed the 200 mark we realised that it was going to be much more than this. For many locals it offered a rare opportunity to open windows into their society’s past that were usually shuttered – for them the ‘paths not taken’ were not primarily histories to be upgraded, but societal memories to be reclaimed, and – sometimes – reputations to be redeemed. One member of the audience, a Singapore lawyer and mother of teenagers, bemoaned the fact that her children had no inkling of the events, situations and personalities that we were discussing. Their Singapore history lessons at school were completely silent on the topics we were covering. It was as if they had never existed.

This book has thus become an archaeological experience. We found ourselves forced to clear away the overburden of the ‘Singapore Story’ in order to recall the worlds of the past that existed now only in myth and in the memories of the few who could not forget. Except for these and those few historians who had bothered to dip into the archives and consult the survivors, many of the events of the 1940s, 1950s and 1960s, even the 1970s and 1980s, had become terra incognita. So successful has the current regime been in obliterating the unresolved past, that the ‘Singapore Story’ of Lee Kuan Yew and the People’s Action Party (PAP) was all that remained visible. There was only the account of their struggle for ‘survival’ against colonialism, communism, large and unpredictable neighbours, and uncertain economic circumstances. This was followed by the triumphal story of rapid economic development. In this history, even the contributions of Lee’s colleagues tended to be swamped by the Lee Kuan Yew story, thus narrowing the story even further.

Although elements of these alternate histories still existed in some accounts, most scholars treated these perspectives in a rather negative fashion. The pre-PAP age was portrayed as a chaotic and uncertain time before the events of ‘real’ history took place. And yet, for those who know the era, it was one of dynamism, great political movements, and high aspirations. This was true, we argue here, not only for the rest of Asia, but also for Singapore itself.

The age was one of revolution and hope, a hope that, many will argue, has yet to be fully realised, even today. In remarks addressed to the symposium, Professor Wang Gungwu, who not only lived through most of the events covered in this book, but was also an active participant, portrayed some of the sentiments being expressed as a kind of ‘nostalgia’ for a bygone era and unachieved dreams. Professor Chua Beng Huat suggested that much of the interest in the panels was from Singaporeans who ‘love to hear others tell them how bad they had it’. Perhaps parts of both are true, but whatever the case, it is clear that the presentations touched a nerve that many felt was long in need of stimulating. It is in that spirit that we offer these papers.

The book is the final output of a research project funded in its pilot phase by the Queensland University of Technology (QUT) and the Australian Technological Network of Universities in 2001, and later by the Australian Research Council (ARC). The project’s founders, Carl A. Trocki and Michael D. Barr, were both based in QUT at the beginning of the project, but it soon became a multi-institutional project as Barr moved to the University of Queensland and then Flinders University, and Yao Souchou and Lily Rahim of Sydney University joined. By this stage it had also become an international project, as several colleagues from the National University of Singapore – notably Huang Jianli, Tim Barnard and Kevin Tan – came on board. The international status of the project was cemented when ARI agreed to host the project’s symposium in Singapore and Professor Chua Beng Huat from ARI joined Trocki and Barr as a symposium co-ordinator.

Our aim was to recast Singapore’s post-war history through accounts of the civil and political movements that operated outside the parameters of imagination created by the ruling PAP. It was largely intended to present a ‘not-the-PAP’ version of Singapore’s recent past and to focus on the positive contributions and efforts of those alternative movements. The work was never intended to present an anti-PAP or anti-Lee Kuan Yew approach to the study of Singapore’s social and political order. Unfortunately, that disclaimer has become slightly tendentious, despite our best intentions. In a number of cases, it has been impossible to provide a satisfactory account of a particular movement without noting the manner in which it met its demise or was destroyed. The fact that these paths were not taken was often the result of forceful action by those in power. One does not make an omelette without breaking eggs, and the recent history of Singapore is littered with its share of eggshells.

The Book

The book is divided into four thematic sections. The first two papers, grouped under the heading, ‘Opening New Paths’, introduce the age and the ideas. The second group of papers deals with party politics during the 1950s and 1960s, and the third group focuses on broader social, cultural and popular movements within Singapore between the late 1940s and the mid-1970s. The final section, containing only three papers, discusses the 1980s and 1990s, with some consideration of what sort of civil society activity is currently possible in Singapore.

Chapters

Introduction
Carl A. Trocki and Michael D. Barr

Part 1: Opening New Paths

1. Imperial Subjects, Straits Citizens: Anglophone Asians and the Struggle for Political Rights in Inter-War Singapore – Chua Ai Lin

2. Internationalism and Political Pluralism in Singapore, 1950-1963 – Sunil S. Amrith

Part 2: Party Politics

3. The United Front Strategy of the Malayan Communist Party in Singapore, 1950s-1960s – C. C. Chin

4. Chinese Merchants in Politics: The Democratic Party in the 1955 Legislative Assembly Election – Sikko Visscher

5. Winning and Losing Malay Support: PAP-Malay Community Relations, 1950s and 1960s – Lily Zubaidah Rahim

6. David Marshall and the Struggle for Civil Rights in Singapore – Carl A. Trocki

Part 3: Activists and Popular Movements

7. Malay Cosmopolitan Activism in Post-War Singapore – Timothy P. Barnard and Jan van der Putten

8. Civil Society and the Malay Education Council – E. Kay Gillis

9. All Quiet on Jurong Road: Nanyang University and Radical Vision in Singapore – Yao Souchou

10. The Young Pathfinders: Portrayal of Student Political Activism – Huang Jianli

11. The Left-Wing Trade Unions in Singapore, 1945-1970 – Michael Fernandez and Loh Kah Seng

Part 4: Walking Narrow Paths

12. Singapore’s Catholic Social Activists: Alleged Marxist Conspirators – Michael D. Barr

13. Internalised Boundaries: AWARE’s Place in Singapore’s Emerging Civil Society – Lenore Lyons

14. History Spiked: Hegemony and the Denial of Media Diversity – Cherian George

Singapore's last village to disappear; Short film on Kampong Lorong Buangkok

A 23min documentary from 2007 in 3 parts.




A Reuters report from Dec 21, 2007 followed by a Jan 3, 2009 New York Times report.

Rush for land to sweep away last Singapore village
By Melanie Lee

SINGAPORE (Reuters) - Chillis and limes grow in a lush garden between colorful cement houses with leaking metal roofs in Kampong Buangkok, a village with no roads or computers.

The sight would be nothing out of the ordinary in much of southeast Asia. But Singapore's last village, nestled in a forest clearing, is an oddity in the sophisticated city-state where skyscrapers and high-speed Internet are the norm.

Simple kampongs -- the Malay word for village -- were synonymous with disease and poor sanitation when they went out of style as Singapore introduced government housing in the 1960s.

Mass relocations to tower block Housing Development Board (HDB) flats saw the number of kampongs dwindle. Once home to 40 families, sole survivor Kampong Buangkok now houses only 28, who fiercely guard community bonds among arching banana trees.

"I know all my neighbors, we meet every day, doors open. It's not like the HDB flats, where you can live and not know anyone," said Ramlah binte Kamsah, a secretary in her mid-forties who has lived in the kampong for 40 years.

The village in northeast Singapore, the size of three football fields, has few cars.

"They always ask me if I want to build a road here, but I tell them -- no road. Real kampongs don't have roads," said Sng Mui Hong, owner of the land of Kampong Buangkok, gesturing to the dirt path which runs through the village.

Sng, who is single and in her fifties, inherited the piece of land from her father. While the booming economy and an influx of foreigners has led to a red hot property market, her rates are as low as $6.50 ($4.45) a month -- prices maintained for 30 years.

"If you increase the rent and the prices outside go up, how will the people in here cope?" said Sng, who added that most kampong dwellers are poor and shun Singapore's glitzy malls.

HITTING HERITAGE

Built 60 years old ago on low-lying land, the kampong has weathered many floods.

But the biggest danger it faces is not a natural disaster, but Singapore's voracious appetite for land.

In Singapore, history and heritage are often found at the receiving end of a wrecking ball.

The space-starved island, about one third the size of Greater London, has one of the world's highest population densities. For decades it has reclaimed land from the sea and razed landmarks to make space for development.

"Of course we want to preserve the kampong -- sentimental fools like us. These are the last traces of old Singapore, everything old has been torn down," said Victor, 51, a blogger who writes about life in old Singapore.

However, a government plan aims to turn the kampong into schools and housing.

"Given the need to optimize the use of land in land scarce Singapore, it may not be viable to retain the kampong in its current state," said a spokeswoman from the government redevelopment agency.

Sng has made it clear to private developers that she does not intend to sell her land. But the reality is she would have to sell the land to the government if required, based on the state's laws. Some villagers fear they may only have a year left.

Tan Choon Kuan, 75, comes to the kampong every Sunday with his family to paint. His grandson Nicholas Goh, 17, said the kampong is a "refreshing change from urban Singapore," as they sat next to half-painted canvasses and smoking mosquito coils.

"I can't do much about the government plans to redevelop the land. But by painting these scenes, I preserve it for the future generations," Tan said, dabbing brush strokes on a leafy picture.

(Editing by Neil Chatterjee and Gillian Murdoch)

---

Urban Singapore Prepares to Gobble Up Its Last Village
by Seth Mydans

It is Singapore’s secret Eden, a miniature village called Kampong Buangkok that is hidden in trees among the massed apartment blocks, where a fresh breeze rustles the coconut palms and tropical birds whoop and whistle.

With just 28 houses in an area the size of three football fields, it is Singapore’s last rural hamlet, a forgotten straggler in the rush to modernize this high-rise, high-tech city-state. But apparently not for much longer. Kampong Buangkok is designated by the government for demolition and redevelopment, possibly in the near future. When it is gone, one of the world’s most extreme national makeovers will be complete.

Kampong is a local word for village and also defines a traditional rural way of life that Singapore has left behind.

“The big overhaul began in the early 1960s,” said Rodolph de Koninck, a professor of geography at the University of Montreal and one of the authors of “Singapore: An Atlas of Perpetual Territorial Transformation,” which graphically charts a half-century of change.

As the decades passed, a clamorous tropical settlement reinvented itself as a spic-and-span outpost of the developed world.

Now 90 percent of Singapore’s population has been moved into government housing, and many people have moved at least once again as the city continues to change.

“Everything is up for redevelopment,” Mr. de Koninck said. “Even downtown, things that were developed in the 1960s and 1970s are already being torn down.”

When Sng Mui Hong’s father bought the land in 1956, Kampong Buangkok was a muddy village like hundreds of others around Singapore. No one could have guessed that it would be the last.

Under the city’s master plan, at an unannounced date Kampong Buangkok will be “comprehensively developed to provide future housing, schools and other neighborhood facilities,” said Serene Tng of the Urban Redevelopment Authority in an e-mail message.

Ms. Sng, 55, is now the landowner, wheeling her bicycle among the metal-roofed, one-story homes of her tenants, who are also her friends and pay only nominal rents for their houses.

The government provides electricity, running water and trash collection, and once a day a postman comes by on his motorcycle.

Ms. Sng grew up here, and many of her neighbors were her childhood companions. Few people in Singapore of her generation can say that.

Fruits and flowers cluster in the village like endangered species in a vanishing ecosystem. There are tiny guavas and giant papayas, yams and tapioca plants, dill and edible bamboo shoots, bougainvillea and hibiscus.

Snakes and lizards scurry through the undergrowth, and tiny fish swim in a tiny stream.

Through the trees in all directions, the people of Kampong Buangkok can glimpse the government housing blocks that represent their future.

Under Singapore law, the government can buy the land at any time, at a designated price, and Ms. Sng has already prepared herself.

“If there’s a change, I won’t have my friends any more,” she said, but added: “We must not cling on to things. If the government wants to take the land, they will take it.”

There is no question that Singapore needs the land.

Its population, which was 1.6 million in 1960, has grown to 4.8 million living in an area less than 300 square miles, one of the world’s highest population densities. Planners project a growth of nearly 40 percent by midcentury, to 6.5 million.

“We will need to optimize land use, whether it is though reclamation, building upwards or using subterranean space,” Minister of National Development Mah Bow Tan said recently, in describing the plans for population growth.

To make more space, neighborhoods are razed, landmarks are sacrificed and cemeteries — an inefficient use of land — are cleared away, the buried remains cremated and placed in vaults.

In its most ambitious development project, Singapore has simply made itself bigger. In 1957 its land area was 224 square miles. Since then vast amounts of landfill, dumped into the sea, have expanded it by more than one-third, to 299 square miles.

Few people in Singapore know that one village still survives, hidden in trees 200 yards from a highway.

“Even if I want to show my children how I was brought up I can’t show them,” said Ho Why Hong, 50, a taxi driver, as he searched for Kampong Buangkok. “Everything is torn down.”

“When we were growing up we didn’t lock our doors,” he said. “That kind of trust we had. Everyone knew each other. Any stranger who came into the kampong, we knew.”

In modern Singapore, few neighbors know each other, said Sarimah Cokol, 50, who grew up in Kampong Buangkok and now lives in one of the apartments that people here call pigeonholes.

“Open door, close door,” she said in the terse speech of no-nonsense Singapore. “After work, go in. Close door.”

Spirit of Asia's Mandela and the (mis)use of the Internal Security Act

While uploading this post at my other blog, i was also thinking about the use of the Internal Security Act, or ISA, in Singapore especially an article about Chia Thye Poh I read quite sometime ago when it was published in 2000.

One must also not forget that he was not the only one who was detained without trial in those days or even since then.

Click here for information about the use of the ISA in Singapore.

Another source of information would be Martyn See's blog. For instance his posts here, here, here, here and here.

These are but only two sources and there's more out there on the web if only one cares enough to look for it.

Spirit of Asia's Mandela

Photos of Chia Thye Poh's arrest in 1966. I got these photos, and there are others of him, here when i did a search. See also my earlier post.

Chia Thye Poh is a man of principle with an unbreakable spirit of upholding truth, peace, justice and democracy

"THE world's second longest serving prisoner of conscience" is a title that no one wants to be honoured with. Yet, it goes to show the unrelenting spirit of Singaporean Chia Thye Poh. Chia, a willowy and soft-spoken man of disarming politeness, is hardly the sort one imagines as a fiery revolutionary. Yet, he possesses qualities that left his jailers looking ridiculous, in despair and even envious. He is a man of principle with an unbreakable spirit of upholding truth, peace, justice and democracy.

Chia finally obtained his freedom on Nov 27, 1998, after 32 years of unjust detention and cruel restrictions. He spent more than 22 years in jail, mostly in solitary confinement. He was later exiled to Singapore's Sentosa Island for about three years. He was the island's only resident living in a one-room guardhouse.

The rest of the years, he was allowed to visit his parent's home on Singapore's main island. Nevertheless, he continued to be subject to restriction orders, curtailing his freedom of expression, association and movement.

I was attracted by the idea of visiting The Hague, the Netherlands, when my long-standing friend mentioned I could meet Chia - a man I came to know of while studying at the University of Manchester.

It was the student society that educated me about the ISA (Internal Security Act) - an inhumane and cruel weapon that has been used for decades by both the Singaporean and Malaysian ruling elite to silence, stifle and wipe out their political opponents and dissidents.

In no time, I was drawn into campaigning for the release of all prisoners of conscience, including Chia, under both Singapore's and Malaysia's ISA.

The campaign underlined the principle that no one should be detained without trial, irrespective of their political, religious or ideological beliefs. Everyone has the right to a fair trial. I share this view.

My friend invited Chia to his house for lunch. We picked him up at Central Station. It was my first time meeting Chia. He was very approachable. We introduced ourselves and began chatting in the car.

Freedom snatched at 25

Chia has been longing for a just and democratic society since his student days. He read Physics in Nanyang University. After graduation, he worked for a short time as a secondary teacher. He then joined the university as a graduate assistant. His ambition then was to travel abroad to read for his Master's degree in physics.

In 1963, just before the general election was to be held, Lee Kuan Yew ordered a mass arrest of political activists. It was designed to prevent opposition leaders from taking part in the elections. At that juncture, Chia came forward to replace one of the detained candidates.

He was subsequently elected a member of parliament on a Barisan Sosialis (Socialist Front) ticket.

Chia was detained on Oct 28, 1966 for protesting against the PAP (People's Action Party) government. He and a number of other MPs staged a boycott of parliament over the issue of Singapore's secession from Malaysia in 1965. This crucial issue was never discussed in the Singaporean parliament. Nor were Singaporeans given the right to voice their opinion or decide the issue through a referendum.

In addition, he was among the peace campaigners calling for an end to the heavy American bombing of Indo-China. Because of his anti-PAP and anti-war activities, his freedom was cruelly snatched away by Lee Kuan Yew and the PAP government, both of whom have long held little respect for democracy and human rights.

'My spirit steeled'

The Singapore government never gave any explanation for Chia's detention for almost two decades. Only in 1985 did the government allege that he was a member of the Communist Party of Malaya (CPM). The government offered to release him if he agreed to give a public undertaking "disowning the CPM's use of force and terror".

Chia flatly rejected the offer. It would have been against his conscience to admit to something utterly untrue. He insisted that if the authorities had any evidence against him, then they should charge him in court and accord him an open and fair trial.

The authoritarian PAP regime tried very hard to break Chia's spirit and to extract a confession from him. Though he was not physically assaulted, he was subjected to intense mental and psychological torture.

They first put him in solitary confinement, transferring him from one prison cell to another. They even incarcerated him in what was called the "dark cell". It was totally dark and quiet, leaving him without any knowledge of night or day. To intimidate him, he was told that prisoners held in the dark cell would go insane in just a few days.

On one of his first nights in the cell, he could hear someone in the next cell violently kicking the cell door as if s/he had gone insane. He was also subjected to day-long interrogations in a freezing cold room and was deprived of reading material for a long period of time.

To sustain himself through such brutal incarceration, Chia engaged in dialogue with himself. He told himself that what he did was right and for the good of the people. If he were to allow himself go insane, then his life would be wasted. He taught himself to think positively. He constantly reminded himself of the less fortunate and the disabled who were living in worse conditions.

There was also a Chinese poem faintly scribbled on the prison wall by a previous prisoner that gave further encouragement and commitment to Chia. It read: Ten years behind bars Never too late Thousands of ordeals My spirit steeled.

When they failed to break his spirit, they resorted to pressuring his aged father into persuading him to give up. Instead of succumbing, Chia scolded the security agents for taking advantage of an old man.

Then they tried to tempt him into submission by driving him through Singapore, showing off the prosperity the city-state had achieved. They taunted him to sign "his confession paper" so that he could be part of the exciting new life that was Singapore. Otherwise, they told him, he would rot in jail.

Still they were unable to break his spirit.

Released at 57

Exiled to Sentosa Island in 1989, he was made to pay rent for the one-room guardhouse he stayed in, on the pretext that he was a "free" man. He was also made to purchase and prepare his own food. Because he had no money, he was offered a job as assistant curator of Sentosa Fort. He turned down the offer.

As a Grade Two civil servant, he knew he would have been barred from talking to the media without official approval. Instead, he successfully negotiated a position as a freelance translator for the Sentosa Development Corporation.

In 1997, Chia was allowed to accept a fellowship from the German government for politically persecuted persons. He spent a year in Germany studying democratic politics and German.

However, he remained barred from making political statements, addressing meetings, joining any organisation, taking part in political activities or associating with other former political detainees.

The PAP government was under constant international criticism and pressure as long as Chia was unjustifiably incarcerated and restricted. Failing to break his spirit, the PAP government reluctantly eased the restrictions on him. Eventually they gave up and succumbed to the international call for his unconditional release.

As soon as the restrictions were lifted, he issued a stern press statement condemning the ISA and called for its repeal. Being a victim of the notorious ISA, he is fully aware of how such a law can be used to trample human dignity and strike fear into the hearts and minds of people.

Contrary to some people's belief in Asian values, Chia maintains that the ISA is incompatible with these values. After all, the ISA is a creation of Western colonialists who used it to suppress the struggle for independence.

He also told the officer who notified him of the lifting of his restriction orders that he was still interested in politics. If in detention Chia did not break, in freedom Chia refused to be cowed. He refused to kowtow to the authoritarian PAP government.

Chia has paid dearly for his commitment to truth, and his belief in justice and democratic principles. When he was detained, he was only 25 years old. By the time he was freed unconditionally, he was 57. They had virtually taken away the best part of his life without even laying any charges against him, let alone giving him a trial in court.

As a consequence of his 23-year imprisonment, he is in poor health. His eyesight is impaired from many years spent in the dark cell. His lung problems recur from the same time. He has also undergone a prostate operation and has a weak bladder. And yet, though failing in health and haunted by nightmarish memories, he is determined to rebuild his life.

He is currently pursuing a Master's degree in development studies at the Institute of Social Studies in The Hague.

'One day, we'll all get there'

At The Hague, Chia and I chatted over lunch. I also noticed that Chia was very fond of my friend's three children, in particular the youngest one, who is barely three years old. He has missed a lot in life.

And yet, he harbours no personal grudge against anybody, including Lee Kuan Yew. He sees his struggle as not against individuals but against unjust policies and an unjust system.

"This is not about a personal battle. The struggle for democracy is much more than personal battles. I don't feel bitter towards anyone. Democracy is not about violence. They can jail me, but how are they going to jail democracy? One day, I'll get there - we'll all get there," he told me.

Keeping constant faith with his innocence, he proclaimed that he would not choose otherwise if he had to do it all over again. Deep down in his heart, he knows he cannot betray his conscience. He would rather sacrifice his life honourably for a just cause than to confess to a falsehood.

In pursuit of prosperity, the PAP regime has managed to cow a large section of Singaporeans into not valuing democracy and human rights. Today, few people in Singapore seem to care about Chia and what has happened to him. He is virtually unknown to young Singaporeans and those who do know him are too indifferent or too timid to say anything.

Nevertheless, outside Singapore, Chia is remembered and looked up to by many as an excellent example of the struggle for justice and democracy in Southeast Asia. He is a simple and humble man who possesses a great spirit. And those who long for reformasi will emulate his spirit. Political scientist Andrew Aeria has aptly described Chia as "a shining icon to the struggle for human rights and democracy".

ANG HIOK GAI is deputy secretary-general of Parti Rakyat Malaysia. This article, published in Bahasa Malaysia, Chinese and English, is written in commemoration of Human Rights' Month (November 2000).

Chia Thye Poh and Lim Chin Siong

For far too long, Singapore's history has been written; told; re-told and reinforced by the victors and their minions. There's much more to our history then that.

This is a 1962 photo of Chia Thye Poh (L) and Lim Chin Siong (R) from The National Archives of Singapore's Access to Archives Online Singapore (a20). To get to the photos, click on Database followed by PICAS or Picture Archives Singapore Database. Here's the direct link to PICAS. And just do a search of whatever you're looking for.

I entered each of their names in the search box. Click here for photos of Chia Thye Poh and here for Lim Chin Siong.

Click here and here for wikepedia articles on both these personalities. See here for a 1989 interview with Chia Thye Poh by James Gomez & Susan Chua. And also SDP's articles on Lim Chin Siong: Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3.

Seizure of One Nation Under Lee to be raised at 9th session of UN Human Rights Council

One Nation Under Lee seizure to be raised at UN meeting

Singapore Democrats

The seizure of the video One Nation Under Lee by the Government will be raised in Geneva this Friday, 12 Sep 08, during the 9th session of the United Nations Human Rights Council.

Forum-Asia, a regional human rights group, will cite the case along with other human rights violations in the region when it is called to make representation before the UN Council. Apart from the matter of the video seizure, Forum-Asia will also bring up the prosecution of activists for taking part in peaceful protests in Singapore. (Jacob: See here and here)

In May this year officials of the Media Development Authority gate-crashed a private screening of the video and demanded that the film be handed over. They said that the video did not have a certificate of approval.

Despite the seizure, the video has since been uploaded on YouTube as well as Google. The YouTube account alone has received 27,300 views.

The Forum-Asia's representation will also include the situation in Laos and Mongolia. The following is the text on Singapore that will be read to the Council:

...although the [Singapore] government has announced its rules to allow outdoor demonstrations (restricted to the Speaker's Corner), there have been events this year that nevertheless underline a restrictive environment in which human rights defenders are not able to enjoy the freedom of expression and opinion and the freedom to be informed.

In May 2008, a private film screening of One Nation Under Lee was interrupted by representatives from the Media Development Authority who demanded that organisers of the screening hand over the film.

They cited the Films Act which states that it is an offence to have in your possession or to exhibit or distribute any film without a valid certificate. This provision therefore makes almost all Singaporeans hosting private screenings of private events violators of the said Act.

The government has also charged more than 20 activists for taking part in various activities such as peaceful protests and distributing flyers.

Readers can follow the live webcast of events at the session at http://www.un.org/webcast/unhrc/index.asp.

One Nation Under Lee is also the subject at the Freedom Film Fest 2008 in Malaysia. It was screened in Penang last weekend and will be screened in Johor Baru this Saturday, 13 Sep, at 4:30 pm.

Malaysia's premier showcase of human rights films will travel to Johor Bahru this weekend. It will be the closest location by which Singaporeans can watch One Nation Under Lee in a public space. Director Seelan Palay will be present at the post-screening Q&A session.

Venue: Tropical Inn
Address: 15 Jalan Gereja, Johor Bahru
Dates: 12 to 14 Sept 2008
Time: 11am till 10pm
Admission is FREE

Paths Not Taken - An alternative history to the "Singapore Story"

I would like to recommend this book i've been reading. Its called Paths Not Taken: Political Pluralism in Post-War Singapore. Its available at bookstores like Borders, Select Books and Kinokuniya.

I wanted to give my readers some excerpts from the book. I'll probably do that later on. Meanwhile this is from Select Books' website about the book,

Singapore's era of pluralism between the 1950s and 1970s is a largely overlooked part of the country's recent history. It was a time of extraordinary cultural, intellectual and political dynamism: students, labour unions, ambitious political contenders and representatives of the various ethnic communities all stepped forward to offer alternate visions of Singapore's future from across the entire political spectrum. They generated ideologies, priorities, perspectives and social visions such as mainstream "official" politics had never known before and has not seen seen since.Most of the papers in this volume were first presented at a conference organised by the Asian Research Institute of the National Univerrsity of Singapore in 2005.

The contributions weave an alternative history to the "Singapore Story". They reveal a cast of significant players who offered real alternatives to the enduring PAP model and not the false starts they have often been portrayed as, thereby illuminating paths that were eventually not taken. This book will remind older Singaporeans of pages from their past and provide a younger generation with a novel perspective of Singapore's past struggles.

And you can read here about the project and conference that led to this book.