In Memory of 1987: video

Here is the video of my speech on Saturday:

In Memory of 1987

On Saturday 2 June 2012, MARUAH and Function 8 organized an event called "That We May Dream Again" to commemorate the 25th anniversary of Operation Spectrum. I spoke at this event as Vice-President of MARUAH.

In Memory of 1987

Ladies and gentlemen, friends and colleagues, thank you for coming here today. My name is Siew Kum Hong. I speak today in my capacity of Vice-President of MARUAH. And I am very honoured to speak here today.

The U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt once said: “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” Looking at all of you here today, I am heartened to know that so many Singaporeans are no longer afraid of the Internal Security Act, or of the 1987 detentions.

And fear is the currency of the ISA. Its scope is notoriously broad, its wording infamously vague. I personally believe that this is deliberately so, to keep the population in line.

I once heard someone say, with full sincerity and conviction, that the ISA has not been used to detain political opponents in the last 10 to 15 years. I think that is probably true. But that time-frame seems carefully selected. Would that person have been equally sincere and convincing, if he had said 25 years instead?

The events of 1987 still haunt many Singaporeans, especially the older generations. It is different from younger Singaporeans, many of whom had not even been born in 1987.

In 1987, I was 12 years old.  I only have a hazy recollection of what was happening then. So most of what I know is based on what I have seen, read and heard as an adult. And of course, what I studied in law school and what I and my colleagues in MARUAH have researched since.

Like how some 1987 detainees challenged their detentions and won their case before the Court of Appeal, only to be immediately re-detained upon their release. Like how the Government quickly amended the ISA after that case, to limit future reviews of ISA detentions by the courts to purely procedural grounds, as you’ve just heard Jeannette say. Like how, even in the post-9/11 world where preventive detention laws have become more commonplace, the ISA continues to lack the checks and balances found in other countries’ laws.

What are some of these missing checks and balances? Firstly, even though the detainees are not brought before the courts, they are still subject to some sort of hearing that should comply with due process. In Singapore, we have a hearing before an advisory board. But this process is shrouded in secrecy and is completely non-transparent.

According to a lawyer who has appeared before advisory boards, the detainees and their lawyers do not get to see the evidence that is presented against them, and do not have the right to challenge witnesses against them. The decisions of the advisory board are not published and not even disclosed to detainees. So much for the right to a fair hearing.

Another critical area where the ISA falls short of international norms, is the maximum period of detention without trial that is allowed. For instance, Australia allows detention for only up to 48 hours. Even the UK, which has suffered actual terrorist attacks on its own soil, only permits detention for up to 28 days.

But in Singapore, preventive detention is potentially indefinite – for instance, Chia Thye Poh was first detained in 1966, released from ISD detention in 1989 after 23 years, but confined to Sentosa until 1992. The remaining restrictions were gradually lifted over the years, and he became a completely free man only in 1998 – 32 years after he was first detained.

Singapore went through the Universal Periodic Review process last year, which is a process where the United Nations reviews each country’s human rights record in turn. MARUAH submitted a paper focusing specifically on preventive detention and the death penalty. In that paper, we called for numerous reforms to the ISA to bring it in line with international norms and due process. The objective was to ensure that even if there is a legitimate security requirement for preventive detention, the detention is done in accordance with human rights norms and due process.

Since then, we have refined our position. MARUAH now thinks that the best way to achieve that objective, is to simply repeal the ISA and introduce new anti-terrorism laws consistent with human rights.

And that is exactly what Malaysia has done. Around six weeks ago, Malaysia repealed its own ISA, replacing it with an anti-terrorism law that limits preventive detention to 28 days. Yet, the Singapore Government continues to insist that it needs the ISA in its current form, and that a specific anti-terrorism law would not work or would not be enough or would take too long to implement. The Singapore Government continues to make these bald assertions without any real explanation or justification.

Well, I can only say in response: “Malaysia boleh!”

As many of you know, MARUAH is also calling for an independent Commission of Inquiry into the 1987 detentions. We are asking Singaporeans to sign a petition in support of this call.

Look around you today. Today, we see so many of the so-called Marxist conspirators standing together again, in public. This is Singaporeans’ chance to find out the truth for themselves.

Look at the ex-detainees. Go up to them. Talk to them. Look into their eyes. Listen to what they have to say, but more importantly listen to how they say it.

And then ask yourself: could these allegations really be true? Could they really have been subversives? Could they really have plotted to overthrow the Government? Could there really have been a Marxist conspiracy, or any conspiracy at all? And if the answers to those questions are “no”, then what could have been the justification for the detentions?

I have always doubted the supposed reasons for the 1987 detentions. And the first time I met and spoke to Vincent Cheng, I stopped having any doubts. I knew that I could not accept the story put forth by the Government. I became convinced that these were just good men and women who wanted a better Singapore. And for that, I salute them.

The 1987 detentions effectively killed civil society for an entire generation. Activists saw what happened to those who were willing to act on their conscience, and either gave up or went underground. Common people saw what happened to those who were willing to stand up and be counted, and so they shut up and sat down.

The Government talks about an active citizenry, it talks about getting Singaporeans involved. They talk about so many things, but they don’t talk about the great big elephant in the room.

In recent years, ex-detainees, whether from 1987 or earlier, have been publishing their own accounts about what happened to them. And these stories always contradict the official version stated by the Government. So far, the Government has completely failed to respond to the ex-detainees. As a first step towards coming to terms with the ISA, we need to understand, once and for all, what really happened in 1987. What evidence did the Government have of a conspiracy, that led them to order the detentions? Were the confessions by the detainees coerced? Were the detainees mistreated or tortured?

A famous American judge once said: “Sunlight is said to be the best disinfectant.” I ask the Government to shine a light on the events 25 years ago, and once and for all resolve all the doubts and questions that so many Singaporeans continue to have. Hold an independent Commission of Inquiry, and disinfect this gaping wound in our national psyche and soul. That is the only way that we can start to heal, and finally begin to come to terms with this dark stain on Singapore’s history, and have an informed national discourse on whether the ISA in its current form is necessary today.

Ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for listening. Thank you for coming today. Most of all, thank you for taking a stand against this law called the Internal Security Act, that has destroyed so many lives. May we see its abolition soon.

Lee Kuan Yew – giant of a repressive decade

This article was first published on The Online Citizen on August 8, 2011

I consider myself a child of the ’80s. Born in 1975, I first became conscious of the world around me in the 1980s.

Even by Singapore’s standards, there were a lot of changes in that decade. Many of these changes have gone on to become integral and fundamental to what Singapore is today.

Group Representation Constituencies (GRCs) were introduced in 1988. Much of the foundation of today’s transport system were laid, with the AYE, BKE, ECP and PIE being opened throughout the decade and the MRT being officially opened in 1988 (after a soft launch in 1987 with just five stations – I still remember my dad taking me to ride the train from Ang Mo Kio on its first day!). Even the hotly-debated topic today, the Elected Presidency, was first mooted in the 1980s.

Echoes from the darker events of the ’80s still resonate today as well. The much-hated graduate mother scheme has reared its head again in the pre-campaigning for the Elected Presidency, with questions have been asked whether Dr Tony Tan had supported or opposed it. The likes of Teo Soh Lung and Vincent Cheng, as well as others involved in social enterprise Function 8, have continued to raise questions about the 1987 so-called Marxist conspiracy.

One man dominated the landscape through all these developments and events: Mr Lee Kuan Yew. He was the Prime Minister through the entire decade, stepping down only in 1990. Mr Lee’s dominance of the 1980s was all the more reinforced with the retirement of his colleagues from the First Generation leadership throughout the 1980s, starting with Toh Chin Chye in 1981, continuing with Goh Keng Swee in 1984 and culminating with S. Rajaratnam in 1988. In comparison, Mr Lee took another 21 years more to leave the Cabinet, which occurred only this May in the wake of the General Elections.

What then were the 1980s like? If we had to identify one single theme from the decade, what would it be?

Unfortunately, I would have to say: repression. The scars of the 1987 detentions lasted for 3020 years; it is only in recent years, that the former detainees have felt able to tell their own stories and ask the questions that have cast such doubt on the government’s official account. The treatment of Mr J.B. Jeyaretnam, the first opposition politician to win a parliamentary election in post-independence Singapore, left a sour taste, with Mr Jeyaretnam being disqualified from Parliament despite a strongly-worded judgment in his favour by the Privy Council. The actions against Mr Francis Seow sent a warning signal to other would-be dissidents, while the muzzling of the Law Society and hence the legal profession continues today.

These events from the 1980s, followed by the defamation suits in the 1990s and criminal prosecution of the civil disobedience activists in the 2000s, did much to silence dissent and instill the much-discussed climate of fear in Singapore. It is only this year, that this climate of fear has been reduced, if not dissipated.

Mr Lee was a driving force, if not the main player in the government, in all of these events. So as I looked back at the 1980s, I could not help but think of Mr Lee. He was truly a giant in Singapore’s history. Sadly, he was also the dominant figure in this repressive decade.

Transcript of Dr Lim Hock Siew's speech

A text transcript is here, courtesy of some, er, livestock. And to be clear, and to again show the pointlessness of this entire exercise by the Government, the posting of this transcript does not violate the Acting Minister's order banning the film.

Why censorship is evil

When I signed the Arts Community Position Paper on Censorship and Regulation, one of the ArtsEngage folks emailed me asking if I could blog about it. I wanted to, but never quite got around to it. Until now.

The catalyst was the ban on Martyn See's film on Dr Lim Hock Siew. I won't go into the substantive content of the film, or the comments by Dr Lim -- that is for another day and another forum, and I will only say here that detaining someone for 19 years without trial is quite unacceptable, to say the least. But I will talk about censorship.

The point here is that this was a factual recording of a speech, nothing more nothing less. No deceptive editing, no emotive music, no crafty juxtaposition of images. So the usual arguments trotted out by the Government about the "special emotive power" of film do not apply.

If there was anything in this film that could possibly be the subject of a bandeserved to be banned, it would have to be the words used by Dr Lim. If his speech was somehow illegal or unlawful, then the authorities should go after him for having made that speech and used those words. Go to the source and address the root problem, so to speak. Instead, the Government has chosen to suppress the film, without prosecuting Dr Lim for the speech. If the speech itself was lawful, then how can the possession or distribution of the film be unlawful? Why should the film be banned? How can the recording of words be somehow more illegal than the words themselves? And if Dr Lim had acted unlawfully, so much so that the Government saw fit to take action and ban the film, then why are they not prosecuting him?

And so we get to the nub of the matter. Censorship by administrative fiat, as in this case, allows the censor to hide and suppress inconvenient or unfavourable facts, ideas and/or words, regardless of whether those facts, ideas and/or words are true, justified or lawful. It gives the censor a convenient tool that obviates any need to confront or address the facts, ideas and/or words in question. It denies one's right to speak words that are lawful. And the fact that all this can be done, in itself has a censoring effect.

That is the nature of censorship in Singapore. That is why I signed the ArtsEngage paper. That is why regulation and not censorship has to be the way.

And this case shows why the Internet is such a powerful tool against censorship. The Acting Minister's order was for Martyn to take down all copies of the film uploaded by him onto YouTube and his blog. Well, the video is already widely available elsewhere, presumably thanks to the efforts of others subsequent to the issuance of the order. Martyn can comply fully with the letter of the order, without affecting the availability of the film on the Internet.

(As an aside, there may in fact be a procedural flaw in this exercise by MDA. They served on Martyn a letter from BFC and a press release from MICA, but it seems, at least from his blog, that the actual order by the Acting Minister was not served on him. This may be a procedural defect. How do we know whether or not an actual order has been signed, or that even if signed, it was without defect? A defect in the order can render it null and void -- ironically, a legal principle recognised by Dr Lim in the film when he recounted how the court once ordered his release because the detention order was signed by a civil servant instead of the Minister, as was required.)

Ultimately, this is again another exercise where Singapore is embarrassed (EDB and STB can do all the branding and marketing campaigns they want, but actions speak louder than words and incidents like this shout things out loud), with very little real effect. Well, I should correct myself -- maybe this incident has had a net positive effect. After all, the film is still available and has received a lot of free publicity, and the spotlight has been cast yet again on the dangers of censorship.