OF CRIME, PUNISHMENT AND ORDER
The week I heard the jury’s verdict on the killing of George Floyd, I also discovered how Singapore, once a lawless country, sought to become one of the safest nations in the world.
Earlier this week, I read the announcement of the jury’s verdict in Minneapolis in the killing of George Floyd with relief—and a fair amount of disbelief. I wondered how we had regressed so much that I’d begun doubting that justice would be meted out, after all. When a law enforcement officer had become the perpetrator of the very violence he’d been taught to prevent, anything could happen.
In a world gone awry, the United States has already witnessed 147 mass shootings during the four peaceful months I’ve spent in Singapore. When I go back to my hometown in California eight weeks from now, I’ll reenter a life that I’ve missed. I’ll return home to friends and family I love. Some fears will return into my life, too. Here in Singapore, I’ve been removed from such gnawing insecurities, at least temporarily.
Who will believe that not even five decades ago, Singapore was one of the most dangerous places in which to live? There’s no doubt that the tiny nation’s experience with crime and violence resulted in one of the toughest gun control laws in the world. In 1973, Singapore introduced the Arms Offences Act which imposed strict penalties on those who unlawfully possessed or carried firearms, and ended civilian firearm ownership. Civilians here can own a gun (for sporting purposes only) after elaborate background and mental health checks but they must be registered with a gun club and the weapon may only be stored at a gun club and used for the purposes of the sport at the premises.
The story of how this city emerged from anarchy on its streets to peace may not translate to a large democracy as mine. Yet, Singapore’s story offers so many pointers. I must begin with the first challenges facing this society during the colonial era. In The Triads: Chinese Secret Societies in 1950s Malaya & Singapore, Dr. Leon Comber describes the sordid world of Chinese secret societies whose activities “included the organization of opposition to the government; the stirring up of anti-foreign feeling; the formation of self-protection units against robber gangs; the “protection” and extortion of money from hawkers, shopkeepers, hotelkeepers, prostitutes, labourers, opium and gambling dens; kidnapping for ransom; and the operation of criminal rings and rackets.”
When the Japanese occupied Singapore from 1942 onwards, they killed many members of these secret societies. While the British who used the secret societies to their ends to get people to do their bidding, the Japanese, as I wrote in SMALL STORIES, EPIC EVENTS, were ruthless.
When the British reoccupied Singapore three years later at the end of World War II, the secret societies were reborn. Attracted by easy money, Chinese, Indian, Malay and Eurasian youths grouped into new gangs. Violent clashes and rioting between rival societies occurred almost daily and crimes committed by their members were rampant. In 1946, there were 960 reported armed robberies. The unrest continued into the next decade. From 1959 to 1961, there were 846 secret society incidents, according to the Annual report of The Singapore Police Force for the years 1960-61.
Singapore was once a hotbed of abductions and armed robberies, too. A Singaporean friend of ours who lived through this tumultuous time in Singapore’s life was an active student leader and trade union member in the 50s and 60s. He watched the rise of the People’s Action Party (PAP) under Lee Kuan Yew, Goh Keng Swee and S. Rajaratnam as they agitated for independence. I asked our friend if he had ever worried about being kidnapped. “I wish I was worth any ransom,” he said, adding that in those days he was poorer than a church mouse. The kidnapping victims were mainly wealthy tycoons who could afford large ransoms. I discovered among the list of victims a gentleman whose retail store on Orchard Road is a historic destination. “Curio King” C. K. Tang was kidnapped in 1960. In 1957, a millionaire of Indian ethnicity was imprisoned for thirteen days—in a box that measured 2 feet 3 inches wide, 4 feet 9 inches long and 2 feet 3 inches high—until he was found and freed by the police.
In the early years in Singapore, there was so much rioting and civil strife that the police force was occupied merely with preserving the internal security of the state. This changed, however, by the mid-seventies. Now the police force could turn its energies to fighting crime. A narcotics and gambling section of Singapore’s Crime Investigation Department waged “an unremitting war against gambling houses, lottery promoters and opium smoking saloons.” Seizing the guns in the hands of the public was an ongoing mission over many decades. I learned, upon reading this exhaustive article on how Singapore wiped out illegal firearms, that gun-hirers rented out weapons smuggled from Malaysia, Thailand and Indonesia. Hundreds of revolvers and pistols found their way into the colony. Shoot-outs were common. The police also began offering cash rewards for information leading to the arrest and conviction of persons in possession of arms and “surprise swoops” happened such that one gun was recovered almost every day.
Starting in 1970, the Singapore Police Force (SPF) started to organize programs aimed at creating an awareness of crime prevention among the public. The first crime prevention campaign was carried out in 1970. This tendency to go into campaign mode seems to be Singapore’s modus operandi. I find these campaigns cheesy but I’ve no doubt that if you tell people something often enough, it will enter their psyche. A police department annual report for the year 1970 describes a month-long crime prevention campaign that was launched on May 30, 1970, “with the aim of educating the public on how to safeguard their property and the importance of public cooperation in law enforcement.”
The SPF also studied the kōban system which had proved effective in curbing the crime rate in Japan. Singapore introduced a modified version of the koban, the smallest organizational unit in the Japanese police system. Small kōban buildings, staffed by uniformed officers at around 6,000 locations all over Japan, are the bases for community policing activities that complement the work of larger, central police stations. Patrolling the area and being seen by the public is part of the system.
Crime prevention efforts have succeeded in Singapore mainly because they operate on the basis of police-community engagement. Any successful crime prevention efforts require joint activities by the residents and police and the improvement of relationship between these groups. In the last couple of decades during which Singapore has enjoyed a very high standard of living alongside one of the lowest rates of crime in the world, this element of trust in the police has been critical.
It was not always this way. There were instances when the police in Singapore colluded with criminal elements during the colonial period. In October 1951, a consignment of 1,800 pounds of opium worth $400,000 was hijacked at Punggol Beach and the culprits included three police detectives. Due to insufficient evidence, two out of the three officers were not prosecuted nor convicted. I wanted to visit the Corrupt Practices Investigation Bureau (CPIB)—I found out that even the smallest bribes get reported to CPIB—to read about some of its efforts to stanch corruption in Singapore but the centre was not open thanks to Covid-19.
I read the code of conduct of the police with respect to use of a handgun and it’s worth reading the document below to understand the appropriate use of a gun as it relates to a police officer.
Singapore’s leadership makes no bones about how it is perceived. The leaders know they’re tough on crime. The government believes that the repression of crime should be the most important function of criminal justice. Its focus is on vindicating the victims’ rights rather than protecting defendant’s rights. The laws around drugs are stringent. The possession, consumption, manufacturing, import, export, or trafficking of these and other controlled drugs are illegal. The death penalty awaits those who are apprehended as Dutch engineer Johannes Van Damme was when dogs sniffed out his suitcase—carrying 4.32 kilograms of heroin—as it transited through Changi airport.
The government make no apologies for the ways in which its enforces the law and punishes offenders. The world noticed how, in 1994, 16-year-old Michael Fay was sentenced to six cane strokes—subsequently reduced to four—for theft and vandalism. Three days ago I read about the teacher who was caned and received corrective training for sexually abusing teenage boys.
The western world finds caning a barbaric practice. I find it appalling, too. But when Singaporeans ask me what’s going on in America and how the country has yet to achieve reform on gun violence despite the horrific mass shootings at Sandy Hook, Las Vegas, Parkland—and as recently as a week ago at FedEx, I’m at a loss for words.
Most of the world is shocked by how partisan politics in America can come in the way of safeguarding innocent lives. In contrast, thanks to Singapore’s airtight laws about who may wield a gun and exactly under what conditions they may do so, the people of this country can declare, with a high degree of certainty, that they will almost never be pierced by a bullet.