December 2004

Oh joy! a dustbin at last!


    

 

 

9/11 -- the destruction of New York's World Trade Center by al-Qaeda -- has indeed been a seminal event. By drawing attention to how vulnerable our modern, urban lives are, it has spawned a raft of measures by various governments to lower the risk of another terrorist attack. 

At airports, we now face more intensive bag searches and body scans than we've ever known. But it's not only the jetsetters who have to put up with greater inconvenience, even the humblest commuter in Singapore is affected. 

Look around any metro station, and you won't see trash bins anymore. Even bus terminals have had their bins removed, except for one or two way out in the open, a safe distance from where people might gather. If you're like me, who tend to buy a drink just before or a journey, and finish it just before entering the "No eating, no drinking" station, you'd find yourself holding the empty can or tetrapack for the entire journey till you're well out of the destination station. 

The trash bins were removed because they would be easy places for terrorists to put a bomb and walk away. In December 2001, Jemaah Islamiah, who are affiliated with al-Qaeda, nearly managed to plant bombs at Yishun station. Then on 11 March 2004, multiple bombs went off on Madrid's urban-rail system, killing nearly 200 people. It's undeniable that the risk is serious. 

It's times like these when you need governments to be effective. 

For examples of less effective governance, we need look no further than Indonesia. Their laws don't have enough teeth; their police intelligence is weak. Worst of all, the courts sometimes hand down absurd rulings. Meanwhile corruption makes everything unreliable. 

After the Bali bombing on 12 October 2002, there's been the blast at Jakarta's Marriott Hotel (5 Aug 2003), and then earlier this year, another suicide bombing near the front gate of the Australian Embassy (9 September 2004). The Indonesia authorities don't seem to be on top of the situation. 

However, what more directly affects our security is the piracy situation in the Straits of Malacca. That stretch of water so close to us is infamous for pirate attacks. As reported in Time magazine, (29 Nov 2004), these waters had 25 reported cases of piracy in the first nine months of 2004, almost as many as all of 2003, when in the rest of the world piracy declined by a third in the same period. 

Through the Straits of Malacca, some 50,000 ship-voyages annually carry one-third of the world's trade and half its crude oil. A terrorist attack on vessels there can shut off this flow and send the world economy into a tailspin. 

More ominously, recent pirate attacks have involved as many as five or six speedboats, and when they take over a big ship, they seem to have experienced crews who are able to continue sailing the captured vessel. It's a level of sophistication that is as good as the 9/11 hijackers taking over the controls of 4 commercial airliners and flying them to their targets. 

Meanwhile, an officer from the Indonesian Navy was quoted by Time magazine admitting that they are "poorly paid, poorly equipped and poorly motivated." 

"The government can't even pay our wages on time or in full, and often we can't go out on patrol anyway because we don't have enough money for fuel. The pirates have faster boats, plenty of cash and better intelligence. We don't stand a chance." 

Which may explain why Indonesian waters now see half of all piracy attacks worldwide. 

Another neighbour with bombs going off is Thailand. Some 500 people have died since the beginning of this year in its three southernmost provinces from bombings and shootings. [1] And it's still not clear what plans the government has for resolving the conflict other than airdropping millions of origami cranes. 

Prime Minister Thaksin personally wanted this airdrop to show the people in the south that all their Thai compatriots from other provinces want peace. The view from the south is that this is just so much unwanted litter. 

In the weeks preceding the airdrop, all civil servants had to do their bit and fold some quota of origami birds. The customs officers at the airport were so busy at it -- and it was hard work for burly men with thick fingers to fold two-inch squares of paper -- almost none of them were examining the cases of merchandise that arriving tourists and citizens were trundling past. 

Could a terrorist bring a bomb in under their noses? 

"No, Bangkok is safe," a travel agent assured me. "The troubles are only in the far, far south." 

But it would be all too easy, I said, for a determined terrorist to drive up to Bangkok in a minivan with a ton of explosives. There are no checks anywhere on Thai roads. 

"But they are not interested in Bangkok. They want independence for the south," she replied breezily. 

It seems not to have occurred to many people that terrorists, militants, rebels, whatever you wish to call them, might want the media attention from blowing up a street in the capital city. 

Perhaps the government is not as complacent as the travel agent. Perhaps, without alarming the population, precautionary measures are being taken. 

That seemed to be the case when I found myself walking up and down Silom Road looking for a trash bin for my empty tetrapack. For 200 – 300 metres, there wasn't a bin in sight. Here and there, there were piles of rubbish, and I was sorely tempted to just add my container to the messy heaps, but I kept telling myself I should try a little harder before I succumbed to my baser instincts. 

My fruitless search for a bin left me annoyed, but also piqued,  especially as I was sure I had seen them in previous visits to the city. Possibly, the government was taking the same precautions as Singapore. 

But then again, there could be some uniquely local reasons. One that occurred to me was that the bins had all been taken away by scavengers. In a city where there are some desperately poor people, we sometimes see filthy and ragged men, or even women, picking through the trash. It's not inconceivable that the bins themselves had resale value, which might explain their disappearance. 

Then I happened to look up and saw Saladaeng station, and it flashed in my mind that I had seen a bin there. I didn't take note of it then, but it's remarkable how the brain recalled a passing scene from a day ago. Was I imagining it? Was that passing scene really from yesterday, or from a previous visit months back? 

I went up the escalator, and as I reached the top, Oh joy! A dustbin at last! 

Which immediately put paid to the theory that the public bins had been removed as a precaution against bombs. Here was one, after all, right on the station concourse where crowds were pouring through the gates. 

The following day, I was back at the travel agency, but speaking with another woman. I asked her, "What happened to all the bins along the street?" 

"Oh, that man, Thaksin!" she began raising her voice. "He wanted the place to look good for the APEC summit, so he ordered all the bins to be removed." 

"But that summit took place a year ago," I pointed out [2] 

She shrugged her shoulders and threw her hands up.

© Yawning Bread 


 

Footnotes

  1. See also the article South Thailand: witnessing beginnings
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  2. The 2003 APEC summit was held in October that year.
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Addenda

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