Why did the commuter ask to see Chan Chun Sing's watch?

QUIZ QUESTION:
Why did the commuter ask to see Chan Chun Sing's watch before he was convinced that the person he saw was indeed Chan Chun Sing?

Minister Chan Chun Sing came from a single-parent family. His poor background made him what he is - determined to succeed.

Quote:
“My mother is a machine-operator. I do not stay with my father because my parents are divorced. I think my poor background has made me more determined to succeed.”

He leads a frugal life. His choice of timepiece is a black plastic watch.

Quote:
"I have been wearing this make of Casio watch ever since I was young and continued into the army.

"It is just a practical thing as it is waterproof and can take the rough and tumble of infantry life. Usually it lasts quite a few years before I sometimes have to change the strap.

“The (Casio) watch fulfils the purpose of telling time. Never needed anything more than that. When I was a ground commander, I would sometimes add a small plastic compass onto the strap, like many army folks.”

Remembering our founding father: One year ago and one year later

29th March 2015 was the state funeral of Mr Lee Kuan Yew.

One year ago a nation was united through the death of our founding father Lee Kuan Yew.

One year later a nation is divided over the way we remember him.

Let's have some proportion in our perspectives.

Allow us, at this time of the year, the privilege of indulging in the memory of our nation's father, Mr Lee Kuan Yew. After all, it was JUST A YEAR AGO that he left us and for many Singaporeans, the pain is still as fresh as yesterday.

He may not be our dad by blood ties, but we regard him as family nonetheless for the impact that he has made on our lives and he is our nation's dad.

If some of our expressions appear to be excessive it's because it was only a while ago that he left us.

With the passage of time, our expressions will become less exuberant and more reflective because far more important than the man are the values that he stood for and that is what we want to remember him for and to perpetuate those values. Then and only then will there be an enduring Singapore.

Not every expression of our memory of Mr Lee Kuan Yew will or must benefit the country or Singaporeans. Each of us remembers him in our own way. Some have chosen to come together to make a collective effort to remember Mr Lee.

Having an avenue for people to express their memory of Mr Lee is uplifting to the human spirit.

A portrait of Mr Lee may not benefit Singapore or Singaporeans who look at the finished work. But to those who came together to produce the portrait, the benefits to them will be their shared moments and thoughts, thoughts of the man and the lessons they learned from him reinforcing the values they learn from him, their teamwork, the expression of their artistic talents and the friendships they forged in the process and more.

One can choose to see the efforts as a sincere public expression of our love, admiration and respect for Mr Lee or one can choose to see it as glorification or adulation of the man,

There are numerous artists who also paint portraits of Mr Lee - oil painting, water colour paintings, on rice grains, fabric etc. Some are exhibited in art galleries. Do we find fault with these artwork and call it 'glorification' of the man or excessive expressions? Maybe every artist should stop making portraits of Mr Lee?

Then there are those who make much of people laying flowers at portraits of Mr Lee.

Some people think this constitutes worship. Really? Don't Christians also lay flowers every year at the tomb of their loved ones who have passed away? They call it 'in loving memory'. Loving memory. They aren't worshipping their loved ones.

The act of laying flowers just become more pronounced in this instance because there are many who did it. But then, it's probably because many people love him. So when you see so many people doing it, it's like a sound that has been magnified many times over. Does that turn an act of loving memory into worship?

We are a culturally diverse society, so we can expect people to remember Mr Lee in different ways.

You've got this HUGE Kranji War Memorial and the tombstones of soldiers who died fighting the war, and every year you commemorate their death and call them your 'WAR HEROES'.

Then one man did not die in the war but lived to give his life to build this country for you and to give you and your children better lives, and hope for the future, and you are so scared that he would become a 'hero'. And you start to worry when children call him their superhero.

Suddenly it becomes so wrong for someone to be your hero.

Please. As long as you understand that he is not a god and you don't pray to him, he can be your hero. A hero is someone you look up to, someone you would like to emulate. So you can look up to him and emulate him......i.e what he stood for that makes him a hero.

We do not worship Mr Lee. We love, respect and admire Mr Lee and draw much inspiration from his writings and his words.

And we are determined to do our duty to ourselves and to Singapore by remembering the man and all that he stood for, to perpetuate those values in our memory of him.....for an enduring Singapore.

And we would like to do it in a manner that unites Singaporeans.

Photo: Portrait of Mr and Mrs Lee by renowned artist Tan Swie Hian.

SGH Hep C Cluster: Don'tconflate accountability with naming and shaming

Nowadays the call for 'naming and shaming in public' seems to be the fashionable thing to do - all in the name of accountability or transparency, never mind the circumstances.

It's like a silent infection that spreads on social media and goes undetected for months and months and years even with casualties falling by the wayside and frankly speaking, no one can be held accountable.

To put it in another way, 'naming and shaming' is public trial by media where everyone online is an expert and a judge.

Lee Kuan Yew as told by Koo Tsai Kee

When I was a graduate student in London in the 80s, an erudite English gentleman asked me where I came from. "Singapore," I replied. A curious look came over him. I raised my voice and said: "Lee Kuan Yew." He nodded. Yes, he knew Mr Lee Kuan Yew.

For a long time, the world knew Mr Lee Kuan Yew before they knew Singapore. Letters from the United Kingdom often went to China first before they were redirected to Singapore. Like the postal workers, the Englishman thought Singapore was in China. In the 80s, China was a very poor country. The English gentleman was too polite to ask if I was a Chinaman.

How times have changed. Mr Lee's model of political governance has transformed Singapore from Third World to First World in one generation. LKY made a nation and make us proud to be called Singaporeans.

His style of government and governance has become a school of thought. On an official visit to Israel, the then Foreign Minister of Israel, Mr Shimon Peres, remarked that Lee Kuan Yew was not just a name but a "concept of government". LKY has become an "ism" - LKYism has become a serious course of study for political and economic scientists.

In the week of LKY's death, the then Prime Minister of Australia, Mr Tony Abbot, moved a motion in the Australian Parliament to grieve the loss of a great leader and friend of Australia. He said Singapore under Mr Lee had grown richer than a rich country like Australia. In 1965, the gross domestic product per capita of Singapore was about one-third that of Australia's. Today, our GDP per capita is twice that of Australia. When I was a student in Sydney, the Aussie dollar fetched three Singapore dollars. Today, they are almost at parity.

Mr John Howard, the most successful prime minister of Australia post-Sir Robert Menzies, had a ringside view on Singapore's progress. His very first overseas trip as a young man was to Singapore on July 24, 1964 - one year before Independence - to visit a relative. He came in the middle of the race riots. He witnessed Singapore's incredible metamorphosis from chaos to order and from poverty to affluence. Like so many great world leaders, Mr Howard is a fan of LKY.

FOUNDING PRIME MINISTER

My father-in-law was a Malaysian, an Ipoh boy. He was a bright student from a poor family. He worked hard and obtained a state scholarship and came to Singapore to study medicine in the 1940s. His study was interrupted by the Japanese invasion, and he finished it only after the war. After completing his housemanship, he went back to Malaysia to practise medicine, until the racial riots of 1969 forced him to make a decision to relocate overseas.

He had two choices: return to Singapore, or leave for Australia, to settle in Melbourne. My mother-in-law was Singaporean. She wanted to come back to Singapore. But my father-in-law had no faith in Singapore. He saw the extreme poverty in Singapore when he was a student and thought Singapore had no future.

He was mistaken. LKY proved him wrong. It was a mistake which my mother-in-law regrets to this day. My father-in-law was in Ipoh so he did not hear Mr Lee's 1965 fiery speech: "Here we make the model multiracial society. This is not a country that belongs to any single community - it belongs to all of us. This was a mudflat, a swamp. Today, it is a modern city. And 10 years from now, it will be a metropolis - never fear!"

When LKY published The Singapore Story, I bought the book and gave it to my father-in-law as a gift in Melbourne. He left it on his desk in his study room and never touched it for the entire week I was there. Two years later, I went down again to visit my in-laws. My mother-in-law asked me on the last day of my visit if I had brought Part 2, From Third World to First, for him. I said "no", because he did not even touch Part 1. She hurried into the studyand brought out the first book. It was filled with footnotes and underlined sentences. She said my father-in-law avidly read the book probably twice over.

He came from a generation which did not reveal its true feelings. He never quite reconciled his ideals with LKY, but he had quietly revered LKY and acknowledged that he was a great leader.

A MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT

In 1955, Mr Lee stood for election in Tanjong Pagar. At that time, he could have chosen from any of the 25 constituencies. But he picked Tanjong Pagar and he explained why. Tanjong Pagar was a largely working class area with a high proportion of workers. He was adviser to several unions and many of the unionists lived in the area. LKY told them that, if elected, he would improve their lives. Although he couldn't speak Chinese, and his opponents made this a big issue and ridiculed his Straits Chinese background, he won convincingly.

The people of Tanjong Pagar entrusted their lives to him and Singapore's modern history was made. LKY honoured his 1955 promise for 60 years. When Tanjong Pagar became a GRC, it was uncontested for five successive general elections from 1991 to 2011. No other GRC comes close to this record. Even LKY could not believe it. While preparing for the 2011 General Election, LKY asked me: "What results did we get in the 2006 General Election?" I said Tanjong Pagar GRC had never been contested. He was taken by surprise. How was that possible, he asked rhetorically. The reason is LKY.

I knew Tanjong Pagar well before I became an MP. My wife and I bought a resale flat in Spottiswoode Park in the early 80s. It is a very quiet, green and beautiful estate inside Tanjong Pagar. I was then working in the Public Works Department. I walked to work. We walked to the railway station. We walked to Chinatown. We love the place. But when I went to teach in the then Nanyang Technological Institute (NTI), we sold the flat and moved to Jurong.

In the 80s, Jurong was most inaccessible from town. There were no expressways, MRT trains or direct buses. I had early morning lectures and it took forever to get from Spottiswoode Park to NTI. So with great reluctance we moved. Never did I dream that I would return as a member of Mr Lee's GRC team to find an even more beautiful Tanjong Pagar.

Mr Lee the MP, never left Tanjong Pagar because he never forgot that it was the people of Tanjong Pagar who gave him the opportunity to become their MP, which in turn allowed him to become the Prime Minister. He was always thinking of his residents.

At a Chinese New Year dinner gathering, he sat on the stage and saw the huge greying crowd of his residents below. He asked me why there were so few young people. I said there were no new flats in Tanjong Pagar. The children of Tanjong Pagar were forced to move to new towns, and the old were left behind to fend for themselves. He then instructed that we needed a gentrification programme to bring back the young so that they could look after the old. He also wanted more energy in Tanjong Pagar. From this was born Cantonment Towers, and then later the iconic Pinnacle@Duxton.

AS A MENTOR AND TEACHER

For me, the saddest part of LKY's departure was the loss of a mentor and teacher. I remember giving the maiden speech in Parliament in 1991. He was not in the House when I delivered the speech. After my speech, a note came to my seat.

He asked to see me. He told me he heard my speech. He advised that I should speak in a direct voice, with more pauses, and that I should slow down my speech. I thought, how awesome. He was not present in the Chambers when I spoke, but yet he was listening. No wonder senior MPs warned me, albeit half in jest, that LKY was omnipotent - he knew everything and he was everywhere! It was an exaggeration, of course. But the message was clear. He was watching over us and Singapore. He was always giving MPs encouragement, advice and guidance.

LKY used to invite small groups of MPs to lunch and discuss matters big and small. We called these lunch sessions "tutorials". Sometimes these sessions finished up with homework. We had to write papers for him to justify our views or positions.

It was a privilege and opportunity to work with and for him. We could not have had a better mentor and teacher. The Chinese have a saying, "Yi ri wei si, zhong shen wei fu". The meaning is lost in translation, but it loosely translates, "To be a teacher is to be like a father".

Singapore lost LKY. But his life's work remains for eternity. He never asked to be remembered. But we will never forget. Singapore remembers. And we remember.

By Koo Tsai Kee For The Straits Times
Published 22 March 2016

HE KNEW WE'D BE ALRIGHT

This time last year, we were fitful, restless. A part of us braced ourselves for an inevitable announcement. So this is it then.

It would be our "Where were you when Kennedy was shot" moment; when man landed on the moon. when the Twin Towers fell.

Where were you?

Only this time, it wasn't about an event over there, but one of the few significant moments that stay with you. And, when looking back years from now, it would be one of the milestones that you count on the fingers of one hand.

Yes son, it was that big a deal.

Yet also in the back of our minds this time last year, was the hope that this man, with his iron will and determination, would once again prove us all wrong.

And that within a matter of days, he would pull out of it and all our lives would return to normal.

And people would wonder what the fuss was all about.

There'd been false alarms with almost annual regularity.

Rumours would hit the market, there'd be a quiet but frenzied search for information.

Then calm when a picture would emerge of him, frail no doubt but in the company of a visitor, or an appearance at a forum packed with admiring business leaders from here and abroad keen to know from him the secret to the country's success, the impact of China's rise, India's place in the world, the United States, trade, Taiwan, the South China Sea... One more question please... Can we take a picture?

This time it was different.

Not a short routine hospital visit for tests, but a stay that stretched for weeks after the initial disclosure that he had been taken ill.

And over that lengthening period, people started to come together.

Curious, concerned. Drawn to the hospital in the hope and belief that their collective will, energy, thoughts and prayers could be focused, laser-like, to energise and nurse him back.

There was, bar the die-hard detractors, a sense of national unity, togetherness, a new-found understanding and an almost sudden realisation among young and old alike, that we got to be here, and have remained intact as a nation, largely as a result of what he and his pioneering generation of leaders and colleagues managed to achieve despite the odds.

And so there was no better time than that present moment, for an appreciative population, to pay him back by turning up in numbers, at all hours of the day and night, to will him back from the precipice.

But this time last year, it just didn't happen.

He'd decided to move on. Not because he didn't appreciate the gestures and the effort.

But because he knew that we would be all right without him here.

As we had been, in fact, for the many number of years since he stepped away from centrestage.

"Get on with it," he would likely say. "And don't drop the ball."

It is a fitting epitaph.

No frills, no fuss. Move on lads, there's nothing more to see here.

He gave of his time, perhaps more than was necessary. It was a good innings. It was tiring and it was, finally, time to rest. Deservedly. No one should begrudge him that.

Yet, as we know from experience, the failure to express appreciation when we ought to have gnaws away at us.

It's a deep and bitter regret that people addressed by showing up, whether in queues that stretched into the dead of night or in the downpour when the heavens opened up at the funeral, to nod, salute, contemplate, bow, clasp hands in prayer - any final gesture to say that I do appreciate, and wish I had said and done something sooner.

One year on, and the sky hasn't fallen in. The country remains intact. No one raided the reserves, investors didn't flee.

And the grumbling, a sure-fire sign of a return to normalcy, has resurfaced.

So now, on the cusp of the first anniversary of his death, there are no fewer than 100 events lined up - although not all may be public-access.

A connection, real or symbolic, can be found or, in some cases, will somehow be made, between events and something that he stood for and accomplished.

There is, in truth, little on this island nation that didn't escape his attention. Hence events at which trees are planted are a nod to his drive to green Singapore.

Outdoor activities like a planned brisk walk are billed as a reminder of his commitment to healthy living. Throw in the backdrop of the new city skyline and the narrative will include how Singapore had been dramatically transformed.

Hold anything on water, in a reservoir or cleaned-up river, and it reflects an appreciation of how he pushed for waterways to be cleaned up and transformed for leisure and recreational use.

There is no faulting the intent of what is being done to commemorate his passing.

And it is right, in this first year, that the appreciation of his contributions and the impact this had on the lives of everyone here continues to be acknowledged, and that the scale be kept modest.

No over-the-top mega event displays, like in the old Soviet era, or present-day North Korea. No need for a group or organisation to overstretch the imagination and slap an LKY label on to something, if only to show that, yes, we too have not forgotten that it's one year on.

It would not be too far off the mark to suggest that if he were somehow able to shape events this coming week, he would prefer that nothing be done.

A private remembrance among family, perhaps. Or a quiet coming together of longtime friends to reflect on his life and times.

What then for the rest of us?

By all means attend, take part and enjoy the events that will be out there this weekend and the week ahead because I think it would be discourteous to ignore the moment.

But the grandest tribute to him and his generation of leaders is that the country continues to exist and thrive; is not a failed state devoid of leadership, direction, energy, opportunity, and is not weighed down in mourning and moaning about the passing of a man, and men, of a particular generation.

That we have been able to move on, one year after, and that we remain intact, forward-looking, and continue to innovate, and nimbly and imaginatively navigate challenges, is not just a tribute to that league of extraordinary gentlemen and what they enabled for the country, but to everyone else in between - from as far back as you care to go.

Because, lest we forget, in commemorating and reflecting on the man that is LKY, we celebrate the Everyman too, and what we and our predecessors were able to also bring to the table because of what he did.

By Paul Jacob
Published Mar 20, 2016, The ST

Tribute to Lee Kuan Yew: by The Autumn Swallow

Lee Kuan Yew: You do not buy or sell this Government.

In the late 1950s, the CIA were worried about what they saw as the PAP's close ties with pro-communist elements. They even approached the British Special Branch about it but the SB told the CIA not to worry (the British knew Lee better than the Americans).

The CIA decided to take matters into their own hands, and mounted their own covert op to infiltrate Singapore's intelligence apparatus. This was discovered in 1960.

The CIA responded with a US$3.3 million offer to bribe Lee to hush up the matter.

Lee refused and counter-proposed US$33 million in aid to Singapore.

He was haggling when he could have simply accepted the bribe and been US$3.3 million richer. What he did instead was to use his advantageous position for the betterment of the nation.

The United States gave Malaysia US$3.5 million in 1963 and US$1 million in 1964. Singapore was still part of Malaysia then.

Dean Rusk, Kennedy's Secretary of State, who had inherited the mess, wrote Lee a formal letter of apology in 1961 for the affair.

But when Lee recounted the story a few years later, the CIA issued one of its automatic denials.

Lee was enraged - not only had the CIA tried to bribe him like some tin-pot third world dictator, now they were calling him a liar. He produced the letter and threatened to broadcast tape recordings of the incident.

The CIA retracted their denials, and Lee was sent a formal letter of apology written by then-Secretary of State Dean Rusk.

Lee said, "The Americans should know the character of the men they are dealing with in Singapore and not get themselves further dragged into calumny. They are not dealing with Ngo Dinh Diem or Syngman Rhee. You do not buy and sell this Government.

http://jfk.hood.edu/Collection/White%20Materials/Security-CIA-II/CIA%20II%20013.pdf

It's is important not just for voters to understand the role of a Singapore President, it is even more important for all aspiring candidates to have a crystal-clear understanding of the role of the President so that whoever is elected will act within the constitution.

Anyone who aspires to be involved in policy-making should seek a different platform. That platform is Parliament and the door to Parliament is the general election.

Is Dr Tan Cheng Bock confused?

Dr Tan Cheng Bock seems to be confused about the role of a President. He is making a second bid for President and wants to 'represent all Singaporeans'.

The President of Singapore is the HEAD OF STATE, NOT the representative of Singaporeans.

Is the President a politician? Is he in politics? Is he elected to represent Singaporeans to the Government? Is he the opposition in Parliament? No. No. No. No.

The opposition in Parliament is the Workers' Party. But it looks like many people have forgotten the existence of Workers' Party in Parliament.

The President is not a politician. He does not exist to oppose the government. He is not involved in government. He does not interfere in policy-making.

So what does the President do? Someone asks: Is his job just to wave his hand during each NDP? Of course not.

For want of a better word, we can say that the President is more like a diplomat. A politician represents his constituency for a term while a diplomat REPRESENTS THE NATION.

Thus you see President Tony Tan representing Singapore when the Queen invited him to London. He also receives dignitaries from other countries who come to Singapore and plays host to them and in the process help to further seal the good relations we have with the countries concerned. Just recently he received the former Swiss President Mr Adolf Ogi who led a delegation of Swiss business representatives to explore investment opportunities in this part of the world. (See here: https://www.facebook.com/DrTonyTan/posts/1099966273358225)

But the President is more than a diplomat.

While the role of the President is largely ceremonial, the President is also bestowed with custodial power to ensure the integrity of our key institutions (which include the Auditor-General Office and Attorney-General's Chambers, CPIB etc). He also holds the second key to our reserves and ensures that no rogue government can help itself freely to the reserves.

In addition, President Tony Tan is also involved with the community in various other ways. For example, he is the Chief Scout of the Singapore Scout Association.

Perhaps Dr Tan Cheng Bock just cannot get politics out of him. He did let slip the word 'politics' during his press conference and then quickly corrected himself with 'no politics here'.

One wonders WHY Dr Tan does not clarify the misunderstanding that a huge number of his fans on his facebook seem to have - that the President's role is to take on the Government?

Why does he allow them to continue to misunderstand?

Lee Kuan Yew: If you who are growing up...

What you cannot defend is not yours.





" I've spent a whole lifetime building this and as long as I'm in charge, nobody is going to knock it down. .."



"At the end of the day all I have to cherish are human relationships. It's the friends you have made, your family ties, which sustain your spirit with a certain warmth and comfort." 

He changed my life: My father and our founding father. By Chua Mui Hoong

When I was growing up, God, my father and Lee Kuan Yew all merged into one.

I was the youngest child in a Teochew-speaking, working-class Chinese household. My parents were immigrants from China, who ran a hawker stall for much of my formative years.

My father was a stern patriarch who was not averse to using the cane. My mother was a traditional Chinese wife and self-sacrificing mother, with a twinkling sense of humour with those close to her. She tended to our household altar, placing platters of food there on religious or festive days. She prayed to the deity who I found out years later is supposed to be the Kitchen God, assigned by the Emperor of Heaven to report on a family's doings. The offerings were meant to placate the deity and sweeten his tongue when he delivered reports.

As for Lee Kuan Yew, he was just the man who founded the nation that I heard and read about. Like God, he was everywhere in the ether. Like God, he was all-powerful and all-knowing. Lee Kuan Yew didn't affect my family's life much in a direct way, although his policies formed the arc within which ordinary lives like ours were lived.

My parents were street hawkers who were fined repeatedly for peddling their wares. Unlike many hawkers grateful to be relocated, they resisted being put into a centre for years. When the frequency of fines grew too overwhelming, they gave up. By then, choice sites like Newton were taken up; they were sent to Timbuktu - a small hawker centre off Alexandra Road, where they struggled to make enough to raise three children.

Apart from the way big policies of the day intersected with our lives, mine was not a political family. The closest I came to Lee Kuan Yew was hearing my father tell the story of how he was standing close by and witnessed the (to him) historic moment when Mr Lee was pushed into a big monsoon drain at Towner Road, while touring Kallang constituency in 1963.

Lee Kuan Yew close up

I first watched Lee Kuan Yew close up in 1983, when I was 15. By then, my parents could afford a second-hand black-and-white TV set. Sitting in the living room, I watched his National Day Rally speech live.

I didn't know it then, but this was his famous speech on graduate mothers. It went on into the night, and I remember I was riveted, moving from the sofa to toilet reluctantly for pee breaks.

In junior college, we would discuss Lee Kuan Yew and Singapore politics incessantly. At 18, I won a Public Service Commission Overseas Merit Scholarship to study English literature at Cambridge University in England.

Like hundreds of exam-smart Singaporeans from poor families, who got government scholarships that opened doors to good careers, I am a beneficiary of the meritocratic scholarship system Mr Lee created.

In my case, though I was contracted to work in the civil service for eight years after my studies, I broke my bond. I approached Singapore Press Holdings, which agreed to hire me and buy out my bond. I remember walking to the Public Service Commission with the SPH cheque for $140,000 that bought my freedom from the civil service. I have remained grateful to SPH ever since. After 24 years, I still love my job as a journalist.

When I joined The Straits Times Political Desk in 1991, Lee Kuan Yew became less of a myth, and much more real.

Over the years, I would cover Mr Lee on many more occasions, including in Singapore, at Tanjong Pagar and in Parliament, and overseas, in China and Malaysia.

Videos of him in the 1970s show a gruff, thuggish figure with an aggressive chin thrust, given to raised arms, finger-pointing and trouser-hiking. By the time I met him, from the mid-1990s, he was already in his 70s and 80s, and had mellowed considerably.

Fiery rhetoric

But when required, his oratory was just as fiery as ever.

Two parliamentary speeches in the last 20 years stood out for me. One was in November 1994. After hours of debate on the proposal to peg ministers' pay to top private-sector professionals', including a suggestion to put the proposal to a referendum, Mr Lee rose and put an end to it, saying: "I am pitting my judgment after 40 years in politics, and I've been in this chamber since 1955, against all the arguments on the other side... against all the arguments the doubters can muster."

Enough said. Done deal.

In 1996, there were complaints about property purchases by Mr Lee and his son Hsien Loong, then the Deputy Prime Minister. Amid the unhappiness about ministers having an "inside track" to VIP priority bookings for condominiums, it took Mr Lee to call a spade a spade.

Businesses want to get the best customers to help sell and add value to their products, he said, adding: "Let us be realistic... I ask all of you to be honest, including Mr Chiam (See Tong). All ministers who carry weight, all MPs who are popular, you go to a hawker centre. If they gave the other customer one egg, they'll give you two. Count on it."

In words that entered the lexicon of Mr Lee's hard truths, he thundered in the House, telling MPs to be realistic that some people would be given better treatment by businesses than others: "Let's grow up!"

Over the years, I came to know of his reputation for imprisoning political opponents. I read critical biographies of him. I had even covered and written news articles on some of the defamation suits he brought against his critics.

But when I covered him at a press conference, or sat across a table from him in an interview, I would put aside those thoughts and focus on the issue at hand.

In any case, I usually had my colleagues around me. I wasn't a political opponent. I was a journalist, and I knew Mr Lee respected the role of journalists. Much as he might berate us or our editors when he disagreed with something we wrote, he knew our job was to ask honest, if difficult, and to him annoying, questions. And while the Singapore Government can be authoritarian, it respects the rule of law.

I once asked if he was satisfied with the level of political contest, or if he should have done more to create the conditions for an alternative in Singapore.

His answer: "We'll be quite happy if we get a small group of equal calibre contesting against us. I mean you look at the NMPs, they talk more sense, right? Would they fight an election? No. So? But they've got the brain power, they've got the knowledge, but they're not prepared to jump into the sea."

My counter: "That's because many people are intimidated by the PAP, the climate of fear, crackdown on dissent and so on."

Mr Lee: "No, no. Are you intimidated?"

Me: "Well, asking you this question, obviously I'm not. I just feel that there's a perception."

Mr Lee went on to add that if a person joined an opposition party, "he takes us on, we'll take him on. But you can't join the Workers' Party and we just let him lambast us away. We'll demolish him as hard as he tries to demolish us. That's part of the game, right? I mean you say that's intimidation?"

Growing fond

I don't remember when exactly I started to get fond of him. It was certainly after my conversion to Christianity, when my concept of God changed from a punitive deity chalking up wrongdoings, to one who loved and sacrificed for humanity.

It was also after my own stern father became an unlikely doting grandfather who chased after his crawling grandson, trying to feed him durian. God and my father were no longer distant, disapproving figures. They had become real beings I could relate to.

And so had Lee Kuan Yew.

A few incidents come to mind.

In March 2003, I wrote a long, personal account of my battle with breast cancer. I wanted to destigmatise it, and to encourage people going through terminal illness, and their caregivers, to talk about it, and not to impose on those with serious illness the additional burden of secrecy.

Mr Lee wrote to me a few days later, wishing me good luck and good health, and saying he looked forward to reading my articles.

He also shared about the time his son went through chemotherapy, 11 years earlier, and how one lived with the uncertainty, even in remission, of whether the cancer would return. "The searing experience tempered his character and made him more philosophical about his life. I think it has similarly tempered you."

I was touched by his good wishes for my health.

He also sent me a note in June 2010 to say he enjoyed reading my book Pioneers Once More, a history of the Singapore public service. He offered some vignettes of senior civil servants that he said I could include in future editions. Again, I was touched by his generous words, and that he bothered.

I began to see a lot more of Mr Lee from December 2008 to October 2009, when my colleagues and I conducted 16 interviews with him for Hard Truths. He was vigorous, engaging, sometimes a little testy, but never rude or nasty.

I heard him speak of his wife and his daily ritual of reading to her when she lay bedridden after a stroke. Devoid of her company, he would converse with the nurses during lunch. I heard the stoic loneliness in his voice after she died. I saw the indulgent grandfather reluctant to forbid his grandchildren to touch his things when they sniffled, but who would discreetly wipe down his computer with disinfecting wipes after they left so as not to catch their bug. Although he was reputed for having no small talk, he sometimes told us about his ailments or his day.

I covered Mrs Lee's funeral in October 2010 at Mandai Crematorium. He walked up to her coffin with a single red rose. His hand touched his lips, then her forehead, planting a kiss there once, and then, as though he could not bear to part, again.

Somewhere along the line amid those incidents, I grew fond of the old man.

In 2012, I was involved in another round of interviews for the book One Man's View Of The World. Last year, we interviewed him a few more times to update the book.

He grew visibly more frail over the years. From open-buttoned jackets, he moved on to buttoned up ones, sometimes with a scarf round the neck. From walking in his trainers, he had to be supported.

We once had to wait 30 minutes for him to rest and he apologised, saying he had not been able to keep his food down. He had an injury once, and conducted the interview with a heat pad around his thigh. He was on meal supplement Ensure and various medications his security officers would give him. His speech got slurred towards the end. From over two hours, the interviews went down to 45 minutes or less.

It pained me to sit across the table over several years and watch Mr Lee weaken. He was the founding father of Singapore. I liked to remember him as the vigorous Prime Minister in television footage, or at least as the still active Minister Mentor in 2009, who told us no question was off limits, and hurried us to complete our book, chiding us not to let the grass grow under our feet.

But somewhere along the line, I came to see him less as Lee Kuan Yew the mythic figure, the great statesman, the fearsome political leader. I came to see him as a man, a flawed but still great mortal, a man who did his best for his country, for his time, the best he knew how.

Luckily for all of us, his best was enough.

29 Mar 2015

Lee Kuan Yew: Grand Master of Asia

Excerpt from Lee Kuan Yew, Grand Master of Asia, published by The National Interest, March 1, 2013:

Among the seven billion inhabitants of planet Earth today, only one has created a modern Asian city-state whose nearly six million inhabitants now enjoy higher levels of income than Americans. Only one individual has been called “mentor” by Deng Xiaoping, the Chinese leader who initiated China's march to the market, and its new leader Xi Jinping. Only one individual has been called upon for counsel about these developments by every U.S. president from Richard Nixon to Barack Obama. That individual is Lee Kuan Yew, the founding father of Singapore.

http://nationalinterest.org/commentary/lee-kuan-yew-grand-master-asia-8169

Lee Kuan Yew: I have no regrets

Lee Kuan Yew’s unique view of the world was shaped dramatically by his second world war experience, during which he not only narrowly escaped death but saw the cruelty and oppression inflicted on Singapore, then part of a bigger Malaya. The helplessness of their plight despite the assumed protection of a colonial overlord planted the first notion of self-rule for the people of Malaya in the mind of the young Lee. The belief gained momentum and was further galvanised during the period when he studied law in the UK and met like-minded Malayans, who shared the conviction that they were as good as any colonialists to govern themselves.

The legacy of Lee Kuan Yew is not about one man’s quest to change the world. The story of Lee Kuan Yew is filled with people who shared, rallied along and often time helped shaped his vision for a better Singapore. It is a story of camaraderie of the old guard leaders who emerged from the crucible of battles against the communists and communalists who threatened the survival of the newly independent country. Lee Kuan Yew counted on capable men, men with gumption and integrity to build the nation, the likes of Toh Chin Chye, Goh Keng Swee, Hon Sui Sen, S Rajaratnam and EW Barker, whom he trusted and allowed to stamp their own mark on the nation.

It continued with a younger generation of leaders that he eventually passed the reins of government to. It is this quality of a pragmatic sense of self and mortality that made him recognise that the work of nation building would go beyond him. The quest for renewal and succession allows new leaders to be raised and tested. It is perhaps this one legacy that will stand the future of Singapore in good stead, a quality that good leaders would do well to emulate.

The legacy of Lee Kuan Yew is one of a man who was willing to push and even change himself to change his nation. He lived his life as an example for others to follow and that could well be the most compelling and long lasting principle that he leaves. It was perhaps his conviction that a leader should set the example that he imposed such high personal standards for himself and others, especially those in his party and in government. He demanded absolute honesty and incorruptibility from all around him. While his achievements were marked by excellence, for instance his double-starred first class in law from Cambridge, he never stopped to push himself to learn and change even as he advanced in age. He picked up Mandarin in order to better engage the leaders of China, as they emerged from decades of isolation from the world.

What is most remarkable about Lee Kuan Yew, the giant amongst world leaders whom heads of some of the powerful countries sought for counsel and advice, is that he kept his personal and family life relatively well-guarded and away from the accoutrement of power. Moving in the corridors of power has not altered his lifestyle. Photographs and anecdotes of his family life show the deep bond that he shared with his wife and the relatively simple lives they and their family lived away from the public limelight.

At the end of his life, what mattered most was family and country. This is a man who devoted all his life to ensure the success and prosperity of the country he played such a large role in founding and at the same time maintained such a disciplined personal regime in order to entrench the values that will ensure its continued survival far less success. While critics and detractors may have questioned his methods and even motives, when his body is laid in state before the public over the next few days, as his entire adult life has been so openly scrutinised, the simple truth is all he did was driven by what he felt was right for Singapore.

*All of us at The Asian Banker are deeply saddened by the passing of Singapore’s first prime minister and founding father, Mr. Lee Kuan Yew. He stood as a giant among world leaders despite the size of the nation that he led. Not one who yearned the world’s approval or acclaim, he lived by only one belief; “what is right for Singapore”. He will be remembered best for transforming Singapore into one of the most progressive as well as pragmatic countries in the world. His legacy in building a meritocratic, multi-cultural and inclusive nation as well as his personal ethos of discipline, self-sacrifice and unstinting commitment to his people and country will live on. We send our deepest condolence to his family, all Singaporeans and friends of Singapore who mourn his passing.

Published by The Asian Banker, 24 March 2015

What Mdm Kwa Geok Choo saw in Mr Lee Kuan Yew

They started out as school rivals.

To Mr Lee Kuan Yew's horror, he came in second behind Miss Kwa Geok Choo in English and Economics at Raffles College in 1940. Seven years later, they were married in a secret ceremony in England.

In 2003, Mrs Lee Kuan Yew speaks about her marriage of 56 years in an e-mail interview with ST Senior Correspondent M. NIRMALA.

ST: How did you know, when you first met Mr Lee, that he had the qualities you wanted in a man to spend your life with? What were these qualities? And what are the qualities you admire most in SM?

Mrs Lee:
When I first met Kuan Yew in Raffles Institution in 1939, I did not know that one day I would marry him.

Between then and 1947, I did not spend any time listing the qualities I wanted in a husband, and ticking them off one by one each time I met him to see if he had any, or all of them.

The qualities I admire most in him are his powers of persuasion:

(a) He persuaded me to marry him, but I would have to wait for him for three years while he studied in England to qualify as a lawyer.

(b) He persuaded a British army officer to give him a priority passage on the troopship Britannic to get him to England.

(c) When he got to London, he persuaded Professor Hughes Parry, head of the Law Faculty of London School of Economics, to take him in two weeks after term had started, although he had turned others away.

(d) After a few miserable weeks in London, he persuaded W. S. Thatcher, the Censor of FitzWilliam House, Cambridge, to take him in one term late.

(e) When I was awarded the Queens Scholarship in July 1947, he persuaded W. S. Thatcher to write to the Mistress of Girton College about taking in his girlfriend, me.

(f) He met the Mistress and persuaded her that I was exceptional and worth taking in for that academic year.

(g) The Education Department in Singapore doubted that I had been offered a place in Girton College; they had not been able to get Eddie Barker a place in Cambridge even though he had won the Queens Scholarship the previous year (1946). Eddie did not get in till the following year. Kuan Yew persuaded Girton College to send a telegram to the Singapore authorities to confirm they would take me in 1947, and so they sent me to England in September that year.

So I did not have to wait three years before he married me.