The Lion of Singapore

My first memory of Joshua Benjamin Jeyaretnam is of him selling the Workers’ Party newspaper, The Hammer, at a neighbourhood market in Ang Mo Kio in the early 1980s. With his distinctive loud British-accented voice, looking like a serious man on an important mission, the then Workers’ Party secretary-general would call out: “The Hammer! Buy a copy of the Hammer!”

Many ordinary Singaporeans would quietly hand over some money and scurry away quickly, perhaps afraid that some unseen secret police officers were taking photographs for a mysterious citizens’ personal file. A few would brazenly walk up, hand him a $10 note, tell him to keep the change, and walk away with their chest out challenging anyone who saw to report them.

In my case, my father would pass me some money. As I handed him the money, the stern-looking man with the trademark mutton-chops would unexpectedly break into a wide toothy smile as he gave this then eight-year-old a copy of the newspaper. And as JBJ, as he is popularly known, shook my hand, he said: “Study hard, and vote for the Workers’ Party when you grow up.” I have been in awe ever since.

Some say that Mr Jeyaretnam’s biggest achievement was breaking the People’s Action Party’s stranglehold in Parliament by winning the Anson by-election in 1981. Perhaps, and the other four opposition MPs who followed him since are forever in his debt. The introduction of Nominated MPs and Non-Constituency MPs are also after-effects of Anson.

However, his fiery exchanges with then Prime Minister, and now Minister Mentor, Lee Kuan Yew in Parliament in the 1980s are possibly more significant. Arguably, that led to a loosening up of government control almost a decade later as the PAP realised that it would lose more seats if it persisted with a top-down paternalistic approach to politics and policies. The comparatively more liberal and free Singapore of today is partly JBJ’s legacy.

Despite winning re-election in 1984, his subsequent legal problems meant that he was barred from standing in four out of the next five general elections. In 1996, when he did stand, his Cheng San GRC team came close to winning and JBJ entered Parliament again as a NCMP. He would probably have won more seats if he had stood more frequently.

Critics say that he sought to destroy Singapore and its political system, but those who knew him well would argue otherwise. His opponent was the PAP, not this country. He opposed the ruling party’s views, not the people it represented. Simply put, it would have hurt him greatly to see Singapore fail.

Ten years ago, I sat down in his small office in North Bridge Centre with a fellow National University of Singapore undergraduate. With an unlikely combination of confidence and apprehension, we interviewed JBJ for the university newspaper. It was inspiring to hear the man speak at length about Singapore society and politics.

Years later, as a reporter with the local daily, The Straits Times, I got to know him better. We met for lunch or tea occasionally, and talked to each other on the phone frequently. We did not always agree with each other, but I admired him for his convictions and beliefs – many of which were close to my heart. When he lost his place in Parliament in 2001 after being declared a bankrupt, it was heart wrenching to see how much it hurt the man to give up something he loved.

To his credit, he did not give up. Almost immediately, he began to find ways to clear his debts and come out of bankruptcy so that he could stand for elections again. He started to sell his books on the streets more frequently, and it was sad to see the former judge and top criminal lawyer reduced to this.

It must have hurt him too, especially when Singaporeans would avert their eyes as though they were ashamed of him and walk around him rather quickly. I had left the newspaper by then. But I went up and talked to him every time I saw him, and he was as polite and friendly as always.

I wanted to meet him for lunch but never got around to it. I wanted to congratulate him when he finally cleared his debts and come out of bankruptcy this year, but I procrastinated. I was glad when he started the Reform Party to continue the fight and get back into Parliament again, but it was not to be. He died in the early morning of 30 September from heart failure.

Since then, local newspapers have discussed at length about his legacy. And one view that has consistently come up is that he was not a “constructive” member of the opposition parties. That, though, is a lazy acceptance of the PAP’s perception of the opposition’s place in Singapore. A fuller debate on this issue is best kept for another day. Suffice to say that in a time of lethargic opposition MPs, we probably need more JBJs to keep the PAP on its toes.

One of my favourite quotes is by the late US civil rights leader, Martin Luther King Jr. At a 1957 speech titled Conquering Self-Centeredness, he said: “Every person must decide, at some point, whether they will walk in the light of creative altruism or in the darkness of destructive selfishness. This is the judgment. Life’s most persistent and urgent question is, what are you doing for others?” Mr Jeyaretnam answered that by refusing to be cowed by adversity and continuing to fight for Singaporeans’ rights up to his death.

Several years ago, someone remarked that JBJ was like a lion. His mutton-chop beard looked like a mane, his voice could be mistaken for a roar, and tenacity and pride were two trademark traits. Apt, given that the Lion is also Singapore’s national symbol.

Lion of Singapore, thank you. You will be missed.