This is the first special issue of We, The Citizens that I'm sending out for GE2025. I've got a few others planned and will also be writing more as things develop/crop up.
I've had a think about the time, energy and resources that I have to cover the GE2025. Much as I'd like to be all over the place, the reality is that I still have other jobs and responsibilities—Mekong Review stands still for no election, for one—and can't afford to just disappear into an election rabbit hole. My strategy, then, is to keep my eyes peeled for important issues and points of discussion that need to be amplified or aren't being covered enough. I can't beat well-resourced newsrooms at beat reporting—and will be curating links for weekly wraps anyway—so I'm going to try to zero in on things that I think you need to know or think about but might not read elsewhere!
Usually WTC special issues are only emailed to Milo Peng Funders and might even be paywalled. But GE2025 special issues will emailed to all subscribers and also be made free-to-read on the website. If you'd like to support this work, please considering becoming a Milo Peng Funder or leaving a tip!
Civil servants are resigning all over the place: from the Ministry of Finance, the Ministry of Manpower, the Ministry of Trade and Industry, Ministry of Digital Development and Information, Ministry of Health, Ministry of Transport… If this was happening in another country we’d be assuming a lack of confidence, or even a revolt, against the government of the day (see: the US), or wondering if ministers are creating toxic workplace environments (see: the UK). But this is Singapore, so we just assume we’ll be seeing them again soon enough as People’s Action Party candidates in the upcoming general election.
That the PAP recruits from the ranks of the civil service and military is nothing new. Back in 2011, there were even questions of whether the PAP was struggling to attract talent from anywhere else:
Of the 18 newly-recruited PAP candidates announced, only five hailed from the private sector — an assistant professor, two lawyers and two bankers, one of whom is an executive in the government-controlled DBS Bank.
The remaining 13 — or 72 percent — were top people who had served and resigned from public office to contest under the PAP banner.
They were from the civil service, the army, the statutory boards or PAP-controlled unions. The PAP-controlled National Trades Union Congress (NTUC) contributed five.
Two army generals gave up their stars to take up politics and are tipped to be core members of the fourth generation Cabinet.
Sometimes the presence of former military staffers in politics, government or government-linked corporations is so widespread as to become laughable. At one point in time, public transport operator SMRT went through so many ex-military dudes that Singaporeans joked that the highest rank in the Singapore Armed Forces wasn’t General or Admiral but SMRT CEO.
The track record, skills and qualifications of these public servants are often brought up positively in support of their suitability as prospective legislators or even ministers. (Some, like our current Prime Minister Lawrence Wong, went from public servant to political newbie to minister right away. Talk about turbocharged political careers!) A recent CNA article on the pattern of former military officers entering politics highlights their “unique skill sets”, their “experience leading large and complex organisations” and “a different level of understanding of Singapore’s strategic needs”. Even if we set aside the question of whether political leadership in a democracy should be framed as essentially similar to commanding a military force, this pattern of hopping from public service to the PAP should make us ask another very fundamental question...
What does it mean for one political party to be so entrenched in spaces and institutions that are supposed to be non-partisan?
I don’t have a problem, in principle, with former public servants deciding to try their hand at politics. The issue is that, in Singapore, they are, for the most part, pivoting to just one party. That prompts questions about partisanship, democratic safeguards and our collective political imagination. This is especially the case when the timing of these resignations, always happening so close to the election, suggest that these individuals were courted or recruited while still in strictly non-partisan roles. They're not quitting their jobs to join a party and work their way up to running for office; they're launching themselves out of public institutions and parachuting straight into partisan politics. What was the timeline here? How long have they remained in their senior positions in the civil service or military while already anticipating being fielded by the PAP?
It’s well-known that the PAP uses the civil service and military as fertile ground for party renewal and the fostering of a governing elite—and that recruitment can even start early. In his 2014 book, The Ruling Elite of Singapore: Networks of Power and Influence (shockingly expensive to purchase, but you can find it in the library), Michael Barr highlights how the party has used scholarships linked to both public and military service to groom promising young sprouts for entry into the ranks of Singapore’s (PAP-dominated) elite:
[The PAP government] also expanded the existing scheme of Public Service Commission (PSC) Overseas Merit Scholarships (OMS), and in 1971 introduced a decisive innovation – a new elite scholarship just for men going into National Service: the Singapore Armed Forces Overseas Scholarship (SAFOS). The SAFOS scholarships were quickly recognised as the ultimate prize for male students and an unobtainable prize for females – at least until 2010, when a woman was awarded a SAFOS scholarship for the first time. [...] Apart from the fact that the SAFOS scholarship scheme was introduced with much fanfare, it was clear that this was something special from the fact that Lee Kuan Yew’s eldest son returned to do his matriculation in 1970 to be eligible to be in the first cohort of SAFOS scholars in 1971, despite having already matriculated in 1969 and won both a President’s Scholarship and an ordinary OMS scholarship in the 1970 round. And even this indication of specialness leaves aside the fact that SAFOS scholars do their studies on an Army Lieutenant’s salary rather than a student stipend. In retrospect, we also know that the creation of this scholarship was Lee Kuan Yew’s direct, personal initiative so it should not be surprising that since its inception, winners have come to dominate the SAF hierarchy completely. It is more surprising that they have also come to make up about 10 per cent of the civilian Administrative Service, thanks to the practices of routinely seconding serving SAF Officers into the Administrative Service.
The SAFOS project, along with the President’s Scholarships and OMS scholarships, became the centrepiece of the elite’s self-renewal programme…
Party =/= Government =/= State
Before I go any further, I’d like to lay down some basics. In Singapore, the terms “(political) party”, “government” and “state” are often conflated. But it’s incredibly important to recognise that they are, and must be, distinct! (If you’re already aware of the difference, feel free to skip this section.)
A state is a political entity within a defined geographical territory and population. Singapore is a sovereign state and we have our own elections and system of government. We have three organs of state: the Executive, the Legislature and the Judiciary. There should be a clear separation of powers between these three so that there can be robust checks and balances and oversight mechanisms. For the purposes of this special issue, I’ll focus on the Executive and Legislature.
A government is a system, or a group of people, tasked with running the state. Although this system technically covers all three state organs, when we talk about “the government” in Singapore we’re usually referring to the Executive branch. The make-up of the Executive branch can change even if the same party is in power: for example, the current Lawrence Wong administration is not the same as the previous Lee Hsien Loong administration. They’re all from the same party, but when we’re specific in this way, it’s much clearer who’s calling the shots—and therefore ultimately accountable to the people.
A political party is an organisation that brings together people—often united by similar political ideology or policy goals—to contest in elections and, through that, gain a presence in the Legislature. Once elected as legislators (i.e. Members of Parliament), members of these parties are able to propose, debate or vote on laws. Members of Parliament are citizens’ representatives in the process of introducing, amending or repealing legislation that’ll impact the way the country is run, whether citizens’ rights are respected (or not) and how resources are allocated.
The PAP is just a political party that happens to have been able to form the government election after election. This doesn’t mean that they will be “the government” forever.
We elect members of political parties (although we’ve occasionally seen candidates stand for election as independents) to the Legislature (i.e. Parliament). The political party that wins the most seats in Parliament gets control of the Executive (i.e. Cabinet) and their leader usually becomes the Prime Minister who then appoints other members of his party as Cabinet Ministers. The Executive is in charge of the general direction of the government and is accountable to the Legislature.
Because Singapore is a state in which the same political party has repeatedly won the majority of the seats in Parliament, we often automatically assume that “the government” is the PAP. But it’s important to note that the PAP is just a political party that happens to have been able to form the government election after election. This doesn’t mean that they will be “the government” forever, so we should be careful not to entrench the mindset that the PAP and the government of Singapore are one and the same.
The importance of non-partisanship and independence
Now that we’ve covered all that for those of us who needed a refresher—or because we’ve been utterly failed by our school curriculum when it comes to political education—what’s important to note is that, while Cabinet Ministers lead ministries or other related agencies, the people who staff these ministries and agencies are employees of the state, paid with public money, and not of the Executive branch or whichever political party is calling the shots at that point in time. They’re not supposed to have any affiliation to any political party and are expected to do their jobs regardless of which political party has control of the Executive branch. Basically, their boss (who’s not the same as their employer!) might go from someone from the PAP to someone from the WP or someone from the SDP or even someone from the Flying Spaghetti Monster Party (if such a party ever wins a majority in Parliament) and they’re supposed to act on directions from the top, as long as these directions are lawful and constitutional.
The people who staff these ministries and agencies are employees of the state, paid with public money, and not of the Executive branch or whichever political party is calling the shots at that point in time.
This is important because the state, the democratic process and all the guardrails of good governance need to function no matter who the voters choose. Imagine if this wasn’t the case: Party B wins the majority in an election and puts together their Cabinet, only for Party B’s ministers to go to work and discover that the ministries are staffed by Party A loyalists who have a vested interest in Party A coming into power instead. Might these Party A-loving civil servants try to make Party B look weak and ineffective by refusing to cooperate with, or even actively sabotaging, the implementation of Party B’s policies? This would go against the wishes of the citizens who voted for Party B and mean that public monies—derived in part from taxes paid by all citizens—are being used to pay the salaries of staff working in the interests of a political party rather than the people. How unfair would that be to the poor citizens?
The same applies when it comes to the military. Let’s say Party C is in power and the top brass of the armed forces are all party loyalists. If Party C were to one day feel a serious threat to its power and decide to unilaterally declare martial law and stage a coup—as we saw attempted in South Korea at the end of last year—will these party loyalists in the military support this bid to seize power indefinitely? Once again, ordinary citizens lose. There’s a reason why Indonesians are currently pissed about legal amendments, made under the Prabowo administration, that allow the military a bigger role in government.
These are, of course, very extreme examples. And—because it'd be nice to not get POFMAed or whacked with defamation of any sort—I’d like to make clear that I’m not saying that the Singapore Armed Forces, or any officer therein, would mobilise troops to support a PAP-led coup or that civil servants are secret PAP agents lying in wait to undermine any non-PAP government. What I’m highlighting is why it’s so important that these practices of non-partisanship and independence exist and what the potential risks of not having them are.
Political depoliticisation
There’s also another element: the impact on our collective political imagination.
Politics, we’re often told in Singapore, is something that doesn’t belong in a lot of places. It doesn’t belong in the classroom, nor does it belong in the workplace, in organisations that aren’t political parties or on the streets. Unless you join a political party and become a parliamentarian, you shouldn’t be going around “politicising” things.
Yet this intense “depoliticisation” of spaces in Singapore is hugely political because it seems to only work in one direction. If you oppose, criticise or resist the ruling PAP, then you’re being “political” and stirring shit. But if you accept, endorse or celebrate their policies, narratives and talking points, that’s somehow just “pragmatism” or “common sense”. We don’t live in depoliticised spaces at all; we just live in spaces where contestation is demonised and only one political party’s perspective is acceptable.
We don’t live in depoliticised spaces at all; we just live in spaces where contestation is demonised and only one political party’s perspective is acceptable.
I’ve never worked in the civil service so I can’t speak to what it’s like to work in those environments (and I’m assuming there are differences from department to department and agency to agency). But if these politicised depoliticised spaces extend into the civil service—and I feel like I’ve heard enough anecdotes from civil servants and recovering civil servants to conclude that they do—then we have to ask whether it benefits Singapore for entire state machineries to become increasingly orientated toward a particular sort of groupthink and view of the world. What is the cost, to the citizenry and the democratic system itself, if the very people whose jobs it is to keep the country running are collectively growing more and more unaccustomed and allergic to challenge and a diversity of opinions?
What is the cost to us, as voters and citizens, to live in an environment where political imagination—the ability to visualise and dream of different realities and approaches from what we have now—is discouraged? What do we lose when we have to live with the feeling of being constantly pushed in one direction, to think in a particular way (that benefits one party), to value particular things (that the party can provide) over other things (that the party isn’t willing or able to give), to conform to particular standards and expectations (that the party requires to achieve its goals)?
We’ll have to wait for Nomination Day to see how many of these freshly resigned civil servants will actually be fielded as PAP candidates. It’s possible that some of them, if elected, might actually do a decent job. I’m not going to make any prediction because that’s not the point here. It’s not about these individuals or whether they have "unique skill sets". It’s about the principle, the practice and its implications for Singaporeans and our democracy.
This is WTC's first special issue for GE2025. Thank you for reading! As mentioned, I'm making it free to access for everyone so feel free to forward this email or share the link to this piece widely.