Politics: Anyhow draw
Why is Holland Village not in its eponymous Holland-Bukit Timah group representation constituency (GRC) but in Tanjong Pagar GRC? Why was the Moulmein-Kallang GRC, perhaps the world’s shortest-lived constituency, created in 2011 and then dissolved in 2015? Why does the Marine Parade GRC cut across five urban planning zones, from the beach to central Singapore or, as this disgruntled X commentator said last week, from Parkway Parade to NEX?
Before the 2015 general election (GE), Mothership published a piece (by Jom’s editor-in-chief) that postulates about those first two questions. Before the 2020 GE, New Naratif published one that gets to the third. It has become a democratic tradition. Ahead of every Singaporean GE, voters will question political boundaries that are divorced from geographical sensibilities. The rationale for redistricting is to ensure “proportionality”: each parliamentarian representing a roughly similar number of voters. Yet the evidence points to another troubling possibility: that systematic gerrymandering has been occurring for decades in order to favour the incumbent ruling People’s Action Party (PAP).
This year vociferous interrogations have begun before the Electoral Boundaries Review Committee (EBRC) has been formed. Opposition politicians Leong Mun Wai, Jamus Lim, Hazel Poa, and Pritam Singh took turns questioning Chan Chun Sing, the education minister. Among many valid objections: bizarrely-shaped rather than compact districts; public housing neighbourhoods split between multiple political districts; and the regular dissolution of closely-fought, single-member constituencies at subsequent GEs.
Chan suggested that the EBRC is “insulated from party politics”, even though it is appointed by the prime minister, and despite clear evidence from 1997 that the prime minister can exercise power over it, seemingly in response to party politics. Chan, who was representing the prime minister, Lawrence Wong, also claimed that he cannot speak for the EBRC. This is tantamount to saying that politicians cannot speak for civil servants under them. Voters may grow weary of this opacity and obstinacy. The PAP is better off working with Singaporeans to create elections that are perceived to be free and fair. This would not only boost its popularity amongst citizens who value democratic accountability and transparency, but also be the best safeguard against any future tyrannical rule. It can start by making the Elections Department and the EBRC independent of the prime minister.
Society: The story has been yours all along
Singapore’s 59th birthday was filled with celebrations both traditional and novel. Panic-stricken crowds repeatedly pulled ponchos on and off at the rain-soaked National Day Parade (NDP), as they imbibed militaristic grandeur, paeans to pioneers, and the haunting voice of artist weish, in her NDP debut. The Straits Times (ST) published one commentary about why South Koreans love Singapore, and another about why a Singaporean ditched the US to return home. At the Istana, Wong filmed his first-ever National Day Message, which featured his now familiar mix of themes: name-dropping Lee Kuan Yew and honouring the work of early PAP leaders; citing numerous global geopolitical tensions in this “fractured and troubled world”; mentioning that, by contrast, businesses see Singapore as a “stable, trusted, and reliable base”; and how his government’s policies will help Singaporeans manage everything from the advent of AI to housing affordability. Those of us pining for greater social equality will be encouraged by upcoming measures to help those who’ve had “employment setbacks”, which he’ll announce at the National Day Rally this Sunday.
Further away in Paris, on National Day itself, 17-year-old Max Maeder won a bronze in kitefoiling at the Olympics, Singapore’s only medal. If the sport is unique, the reasons for his victory aren’t. As ST suggested this week, Singaporeans must of course thank Edwin Tong, minister for culture, community and youth, for meeting different members of the Maeder family in 2021, and ensuring that he received all the sporting and financial support he needed. With Wong attracting global businesses and Tong courting the Taylors and Maeders of the world, Singapore’s future seems assured.
There was also a surprise from another universe. On August 9th, Marvel announced a new character, Jitter (real name: Sofia Yong), a Singaporean teenager whose mutant power is her ability to hyperfocus and “do anything she sets her mind to—accessing talents and skills most people train their lives to develop”. She never has to slow down, and never has to sleep. The only catch is that Jitter, who’s completely dependent on a stopwatch, crashes if she uses her power for over a minute. Singaporeans compared her to burnt-out students and overworked interns. Marvel’s only previous Singapore allusion was the mythical island of Madripoor, ruled by Tyger Tiger, a Singaporean banking heiress who graduated from Harvard. Maybe Marvel does know us best.
Society: Extricating a Sikh legend from colonialism’s rubble
Within the complex of the Silat Road Sikh temple, which celebrates its 100th anniversary this year, stands a memorial to Bhai Maharaj Singh, the first documented Sikh in Singapore. He arrived in 1850 as a “state prisoner”, following his involvement in two Anglo-Sikh wars in the 1840s, the second of which allowed the East India Company (EIC) to extend its shroud over the sub-continent’s last major independent bastion. Maharaj Singh, a popular religious leader (a sant-sipahi, saint-warrior, in Sikh tradition) exhorted the local chieftains to continue fighting, tried to make wide-ranging alliances and led daring raids on colonial forces until they put out a bounty of Rs. 10,000 (more than what a sepoy could earn in a century at the time) on him.
When he was captured late in 1849, the authorities had to decide swiftly. Execution could turn him into a martyr; and any jail that took him could turn into a tinderbox. A colonial official wrote: “It would be a misfortune if the man now a miserable captive should…have, after his death, a name, to be cherished by all posterity…” Deportation though would yank him away from his supporters; time would make them forget.
In Singapore, Maharaj Singh was treated to colonialism’s carefully calibrated cruelty for six years. He wasn’t forced into manual labour, but also not allowed to move out from his cell; he got extra rations but the windows in the cell were boarded up, making it “dark, dinghy [sic] and absolutely unhealthy.” By 1853, he was virtually blind and suffering from painful swelling in his feet and ankles. He died of throat cancer in 1856.
Bhai Maharaj Singh’s memory swirled around in popular consciousness in the decades after his passing. A shrine, presumably at the spot where he was buried, outside Outram Prison, started gaining followers after the second world war, when news spread that whoever prayed to it had their wishes come true. After the shrine was moved to the grounds of the Singapore General Hospital, someone put the Guru Granth Sahib—Sikhism’s holiest scripture—in it, attracting even more devotees. In 1966, the shrine was moved to the front Silat Road temple entrance and in 1994 into its own wing, the Bhai Maharaj Singh Memorial building.
The person whom James Dalhousie, India’s governor-general (1848-56), had once called a “pestilent vagabond”, had found a resting place, to be remembered for all of posterity.
Society: Guilty as heard by noise sensor
Nearly 80 percent of residents in Singapore live in high-density, high-rise public housing, which makes for an environment ripe for highly tense situations. Most are easily resolved—minor spats about noise, litter and obstruction of common areas, for instance. End up with a neighbour from hell, however, and who knows what nightmarish scenarios you’ll sleep and wake up to; making your life so miserable that moving away becomes the only solution. If not divine, then at least state intervention with more teeth will soon be available to help rectify such matters. Proposed laws will empower officers from the Community Relations Unit, a new government unit, to give warnings and abatement orders to troublesome neighbours; issue directions requiring involved parties to seek mediation; and, with prior consent from affected residents, install noise sensors in homes to collect data. As a last resort, authorities also intend to allow the Housing and Development Board to consider the Compulsory Acquisition of flats for cases involving recalcitrant nuisance-making.
These enhancements to the Community Disputes Management Framework will only cover severe disputes about noise and hoarding, and authorities will only step in when attempts by affected parties to resolve the matter have failed.
Despite the high success rates of settling disputes via the Community Mediation Centre—80 percent of cases result in mutual compromise—public consultations conducted found that most respondents expect the government to exercise greater authority to intervene and provide relief to residents in particularly severe cases. These powers, though, must be exercised fairly, they noted, given concerns around the safeguarding of privacy and rights to enjoy their property, as well as the potential misuse of powers.
This comes off the back of a slate of recent laws that have led to public apprehension about increased policing, and a loss of privacy and civil liberties.
Community’s an often delicate balance between belonging and identity. On one hand, keeping things in the family, so to speak, instead of involving the authorities may bode better for building unity, cohesion and solidarity. On the other, these increased powers could give residents in severe disputes, with no end in sight, some relief and closure. The trade-off is that it’s also more likely to leave a bad taste and unthawable relations. But when you’re at the end of your tether, better a good night’s rest than friendly greetings in the lift?
History weekly by Faris Joraimi
Melaka, the port-kingdom that dominated South-east Asian trade in the 15th century, was well-known to Arabian, Persian and Turkish geographers, who remained interested in the city’s developments well after its fall to the Portuguese in 1511. So said Andrew Peacock, professor of Islamic history at the University of St. Andrews, in his fascinating new article (available open-access) in the journal Indonesia and the Malay World. Sailing manuals, geographic encyclopaedias, chronicles and royal tombstones collectively depict Melaka as part of a bustling Islamic world connected across the Indian Ocean, which Muslim merchants and travellers crossed for adventure and economic gain. For instance, the famous 15th-century mariner Ahmad Ibn Majid from Julfar—present-day Ras al-Khaymah, the United Arab Emirates—composed a poem, the “Ma’laqiyya”, containing directions for sailing from Calicut, India to Melaka, filled with information on wind patterns, travel times, and water stops. His use of verse form was likely meant for memorisation by Arab sailors, who may have also found his local knowledge useful: the poem closes by describing Melaka’s locals as liars, thieves, and bad Muslims who freely married non-Muslims and drank wine in the marketplace. Sounds like they were having a great time. Some 15th-century Melakans were probably decent, as Ibn Majid suggested: “Be careful of them, for you cannot mix jewels with ordinary stones.”
Another source from 1442, by the Persian ambassador to India ‘Abd al-Razzaq al-Samarqandi, reported that island-port of Hormuz in Persia was frequented by sailors “from the cities of Zirbad”, besides Chinese, Bengalis, and Ceylonese. “Zirbad”, meaning “below the winds” in Persian, is a translation of the Malay term “bawah angin”, an old name for the Malay-speaking parts of South-east Asia. It’s significant to know that our region wasn’t just a one-way destination for visitors from elsewhere, but that there was multi-directional exchange. As part of the greater oceanic rivalry between Islamic powers and Catholic Portugal, the fall of Melaka reverberated across the Muslim world, according to Ottoman reports: for instance, merchants fled due to the Portuguese officials’ ignorance of the Malay language and trading practices. Meanwhile, some of these Arabic and Persian sources used Malay maritime terms, suggesting familiarity with a local system of interaction.
Arts: 50 shades of greylisting
Last week, Haresh Sharma, one of Singapore’s most prolific and decorated playwrights, was all prepared to teach “Playwriting: Practice and Production”—as he’d done for the past few years. It’s an upper-level undergraduate module at the National University of Singapore (NUS) that the Cultural Medallion recipient is eminently qualified for. Except Sharma never got to set foot in the classroom. He said on social media that the university did not approve his teaching appointment just days before the start of the new semester, and that its decision was “unrelated to issues of qualifications, experience or teaching abilities”. Baffled, he pointed to the Distinguished Arts and Social Sciences Alumni Award he’d received from NUS in 2021: “So, you can give me an award but you cannot allow me to teach your students? Got it! Btw, when’s a good time for me to drop by and return [it]?” Yesterday, following mainstream media queries, NUS claimed that enrollment numbers for several modules (including Sharma’s) were too low to “meaningfully” justify running them. The university didn’t respond to a Jom query about the abrupt notice period.
Sharma isn’t the only artist who’s been dropped by NUS on short notice. Noorlinah Mohamed, another award-winning theatre artist and creative producer of this year’s National Day Parade, said she’d been subject to a similar experience earlier this year. In 2021, a module on dissent and resistance to be taught by playwright Alfian Sa’at at the shuttering Yale-NUS College was called off two weeks before its start date. Former journalist Tan Tarn How (incidentally, also a playwright) did his own investigation into institutional gaslighting and compiled a list of at least 15 artists and activists who said they’d been denied academic jobs or asked to leave them. Reasons are rarely provided, evidence is often circumstantial, and those greylisted are often left in emotional and financial limbo. Tan writes: “[i]s what they imagine is happening real, or are they paranoid?” These experiences are endemic to academia here. In AcademiaSG’s 2021 Academic Freedom Survey, the independent collective found high degrees of institutional interference and self-censorship among respondents, particularly when it came to research and teaching areas perceived as politically sensitive. Last-minute cancellations also affect students who may need these modules to graduate. Frustrated students told ST they couldn’t understand the decision to cut Sharma’s class, and bemoaned the lack of feasible alternatives. One commented on Sharma’s post: “We’re already running out of viable [Theatre Studies] mods for students - what are we allowed to learn if all these art practitioners are dropped without any justification??”
Tech: Minting returns at the chocolate factory
Upset with onerous terms and conditions of your DBS multiplier account or the interest rate cuts to your UOB One? Enter Chocolate Finance. A brainchild of Walter de Oude, the visionary behind Singlife, Chocolate Finance is promising liquidy goodness as well as delicious returns: up to 4.2 percent per annum for cash deposits worth S$20,000 (US$15,000) and up to 3.5 percent beyond that.
The company hopes to deliver on the promise by putting the money in short-term, investment-grade fixed income and money market funds that will deliver stable returns, yet outpace traditional fixed deposits. Though the rates are not guaranteed and are subject to market conditions, more than 22,000 early-access customers have already signed up—perhaps lured by Chocolate Finance’s pledge to top up any shortfalls until the end of 2024.
As the company prepares for its official launch, it faces a competitive landscape populated by digital banks, investment brokerages, and wealth management platforms. Despite this, de Oude remains confident in its focus on providing better returns for those with smaller balances. With plans to introduce a multi-currency debit card and expand into other currency-denominated accounts, Chocolate Finance could be a disruptor in the financial services sector. However, the higher-risk nature of its product means that potential customers need to carefully consider their risk appetite and financial goals, lest those sweet promises turn bitter.
Tech: Superpositioning Singapore to ward off quantum entanglement
Quantum computing, a technology most have heard of but few understand, could potentially be used by hackers to blow past existing security and encryption standards. In anticipation of this emerging threat, the Monetary Authority of Singapore (MAS) has signed a Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) with leading banks and technology companies—DBS, UOB, SPTel and SpeQtral, among others—to explore and develop quantum security solutions for financial services.
The core of the collaboration is the piloting of Quantum Key Distribution (QKD) solutions, by SPTel and SpeQtral, that leverage quantum mechanics for secure communication. They will conduct trials to evaluate the efficacy of QKD solutions in spotting eavesdropping attempts, preventing unauthorised access, and tampering with QKD transmissions. This approach not only aims to address potential vulnerabilities in current cryptographic systems but also seeks to equip the financial industry with the necessary skills and knowledge to seamlessly transition towards quantum-safe communications when they become commercially available.
This is the latest in MAS’s efforts to beef up the nation’s quantum security. It has already issued an advisory to financial institutions on quantum-related cybersecurity risks and introduced a dedicated track under the Financial Sector Technology and Innovation Grant Scheme for innovation in quantum and Artificial Intelligence.
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