Latest electoral changes only treat the symptoms

In the earlier article Minimum nine opposition MPs from now on, I reported the proposed changes to Singapore's electoral system and speculated on the reasons why the government made these moves.

This essay dismisses the significance of these concessions. Why? you ask.

In medicine, a distinction is made between treating a patient's symptoms and dealing with the underlying disease. The changes proposed by Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong amount to no more than treating the symptoms. The lopsidedness of Singapore's parliament has identifiable causative factors. What the government now wants to do is to cosmeticise over the embarrassing (and frustration-engendering) lopsidedness through ad hoc changes, without even looking at the underlying reasons why Singapore's political landscape is the way it is, why our landscape produces such a parliament.

I am referring to the political culture of this place. The expression "climate of fear" is well known, but I'd rather say "culture of political timidity". To say "climate of fear" may be oversimplifying the situation, putting too much focus on what the government does. This is not to deny that the situation we see today is ultimately traceable to many government actions over the last 45 years, and which have created a feeling that failure to sing the same tune brings dire consequences, thus fear. But "culture of political timidity" serves analysis better because it focusses equally on what we, the people, do, or fail to do, rather than what the government does.

Timidity creates a culture of self-censorship, but worse, a readiness to censor others around us who might speak up, out of fear that their speaking up might put ourselves at risk, because we are associated with them in some way -– as family members, work colleagues, friends. This phenomenon of peer censorship has been well described by James Gomez in a book he wrote.

The result is that we end up multiplying the effects of the government's original work.

Timidity also means that when our bosses issue clearly illegitimate orders, we don't stand up to them. Eventually, abuse of power becomes the norm. When a minister orders his police officers to do something about an opposition politician, no police officer stands up to him to say, "But minister, it is not legitimate for you to ask us to do this to him. I cannot in good conscience carry out these instructions."

Amnesty International recently released its 2008 report on human rights around the world, The section on Singapore can be seen here. I kind of think the above picture is quite apt, metaphorically speaking, when we consider how "bombed out" Singapore's political culture is.

 
But even when ministers are not involved, all sorts of people making day-to-day decisions weigh those decisions against the risk of antagonising the government. Should we invite a prominent blogger that the government isn't fond of to our convention? Should we dissuade a certain opposition politician from showing up at our NGO's open house? Should our company newsletter publish an article that argues against existing policy? Wouldn't that incur the wrath of the powers that be? Should we offer a job to someone who has stood for election before as a candidate of an opposition party?

Because people self-censor and peer-censor, the government doesn't actually have to do very much by way of showing its displeasure. But once in a while, the government does flex its muscle, particularly when an opposition politician, editor or filmmaker is seen to have breached an unwritten boundary. And then our timidity makes us all run for cover, rather than stand up and protest.

Yes it is true that we don't have a free media, and that is entirely traceable to the Newspaper and Printing Presses Act and related acts of the government. The tone set by the media, and their habit of framing issues in government-friendly ways have badly affected the way Singaporeans think. For example, we have bought into the good-life-as-justification-for-loss-of-freedom perspective. We have retained a kind of siege mentality vis-à-vis Singapore's neighbours.

Yes, it is also true that a history of heavy-handed court decisions have scared off what little political courage many Singaporeans had, and yes, when Supreme Court justices serve renewable terms of office at the pleasure of the Prime Minister rather than life tenure, one wonders to what extent they too self-censor.

But other societies have faced similar, or even worse authoritarianism. And yet their people have stood up and overcome them. Why is there hardly a squeak of resistance from Singaporeans? In fact, why do so many Singaporeans act as multipliers for the government, helping to keep dissenters and opposition politicians in check?

* * * * *

 
Our chief problem is our culture. If not for this culture, opposition parties would be alive and well; they wouldn't be struggling to attract people to join them and volunteer to stand as candidates. In turn, this lack of good candidates puts them at a severe disadvantage at the polls. Which makes it all too easy for the People's Action Party to dominate Parliament.

It's easy for us as citizens to bash opposition parties for not having impressive candidates and not having well-thought-out programs, but the fact is, they just don't have enough people and thinking resources, nor a wide base of grassroots supporters that can serve to filter up people's concerns to their policy-making levels. Because of the widespread culture of timidity, people don't step forward to join them. When they have events, such as public forums, people are too scared to attend.

But of course we cannot run away from the fact that this culture came out of the "system" that Lee Kuan Yew and the People's Action Party created and maintained over five decades.

If Lee Hsien Loong is serious about his desire to "generate more robust debate" as he claimed when introduced the electoral changes to Parliament on 27 May 2009, then in addition to re-jigging the parliamentary make-up, he should set about dismantling the entire edifice of authoritarianism, including

• Repealing the Newspaper and Printing Presses Act; freeing the existing media and allowing new market entrants;
    
• Loosening up the Broadcasting Act that sets up tight censorship over broadcast media including the internet;
    
• Repealing the Films Act;
    
• Erasing what pressures that currently exist on members of the judiciary to act in ways deferential to the government;
    
• Setting up independent bodies to oversee selection and appointment of judges;
    
• Stiffening our constitutional guarantees of civil rights, including freedom of expression and assembly, and putting in place checks against police and censorship authorities' misuse of their powers that circumscribe these freedoms – this includes their routine dismissal of all applications for public assembly;
    
• Repealing the Public Order Act;
    
• Enacting a Freedom of Information Act, for it is information that raises the quality of public debate;
    
• Setting up independent bodies for electoral boundary decisions (and clear rules as to how the boundaries should be drawn) and overseeing elections.

There are probably quite a few other changes that will also be needed and which I have not thought of. After 50 years in power, the sediment of restrictive rules and regulations must be thick indeed.

But the bottomline is that the recent concessions announced by the government are mostly treating the symptoms. We have not even begun to treat the disease; in fact, just months earlier, we made it worse by passing the amendments to the Films Act and the new Public Order Act. Are we going forwards or backwards?

© Yawning Bread 

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