Opinion //
Singapore, the Ridout Road Saga, and the seven ages of empires.
The moral of the story? Complacency kills.
“The life-expectation of a great nation, it appears, commences with a violent, and usually unforeseen, outburst of energy, and ends in a lowering of moral standards, cynicism, pessimism and frivolity”, wrote John Glubb in 1978. The general had published a landmark essay on the life and death of some of the greatest empires on Earth. The ancient Egyptians, the Abyssinians, the Romans, the Mongols and the Chinese — all of their highs and lows fell nicely in place with Glubb’s writing.
Empires often start with a bang, Glubb claimed, a burst of revolutionary fervour and enthusiasm that sweeps away the chaos and filth of the old, to usher in the order and brilliance of the new. They then go through a series of changes: from the Age of Conquest, where the fledgling empire seeks to show its power; to the Age of Intellect, where the state concerns itself mostly with the expansion of knowledge and the creation of art and culture; to the Age of Decline and Collapse, where the once great giant falls to its knees.
I concern myself mostly with the Age of Intellect, where most of the developed world is in. Glubb writes, “The great wealth of the nation is no longer needed to supply the mere necessities, or even the luxuries of life. Ample funds are available also for the pursuit of knowledge … The ambition of the young, once engaged in the pursuit of adventure and military glory, and then in the desire for the accumulation of wealth, now turns to the acquisition of academic honours.”
Much of the rich and developed world are at this stage. The building of universities, the expansion and improvement of the education system, the greater focus on scientific achievements compared to the mere goal of gaining wealth… This stage is probably the height of our empires. Just like the Great Library of Alexandria was the pinnacle of Ancient Egyptian civilisation, the internet and our stores of knowledge will be ours.
Now, a little closer to home, shall we?
An observer of modern-day Singapore would see a bustling metropolis, with her pockets bursting of riches. A brilliant yet ruthlessly efficient bureaucracy maintain the high standards of the city state — including cleanliness, orderliness and lawfulness of the country and her 5.4 million or so inhabitants. More impressive yet, is the tiny nation’s two famous universities, the National University of Singapore and the Nanyang Technological University, both of which rank highly in the world for research and education. The local education system has also been ranked highly in the world: second in the world according to PISA, best in Asia for Mathematics and Science…
Singapore, like her equally developed western counterparts, has reached the acclaimed Age of Intellect. Marked by decreasing worry in livelihoods and national income, and increasing attention given to research and the arts, Singapore has so far taken in all the age has to offer.
But as Glubb reminds us, empires begin to fall after the Age of Intellect.
The fall is characterised by the Age of Decadence and the Age of Decline & Collapse. The intellectual achievements of the Age of Intellect makes us complacent and we begin to think more than we do. Then on comes frivolity — all fun and nothing useful — and afterwards political and economic decline.
The recent Ridout Road saga has edged Singapore perilously towards the fall. Opposition politician Kenneth Jeyeretnam accused ministers K. Shanmugam and V. Balakrishnan of cronyism and manipulation of power in their bids to rent the government-owned Ridout Road properties, colonial-era British bungalows that are home to the richest parts of the population. Following the accusation, the government ordered an investigation into the rentals and concluded with a SIX hour debate about the issue in parliament.
This is unacceptable in two ways. First, as professor of law and former Member of Parliament Eugene K.B. Tan pointed out in his coverage of the incident, the trigger for the investigation and subsequent parliamentary debate was seemingly trivial in matter. K. Jeyeretnam’s claim on his blog of wrong-doing sorely lacked any substantiation or physical evidence. In other words, he was making an empty accusation. In other cases, this could be classified as slander and call for libel, but surprisingly it triggered an anti-corruption probe. The problem with this is that the events leading to the investigation should have been far too trivial to even consider starting an investigation, yet somehow pointing fingers these days is enough. As Tan pointed out, the Ridout Road saga is yet another political witch hunt.
Second, it is unacceptable that so much valuable parliamentary time was wasted on such a trivial matter. One hour is fine — after all, most politicians spend as much spouting rubbish anyway. Two is bearable — not desirable, but not exactly too much. But six. Six! Six hours of precious parliamentary time, which could have been spent debating policies to improve equity or the economy, were tossed in the bin. And tossed in the bin over a baseless accusation at that! And it took PM Lee, after six hours, to stand up and remind the parliament that it was time to stop. The speaker, the opposition, the defendants — were they more interested in unimportant matters than the ones closer to heart, like helping our growing population and businesses with better policies.
Fine. Corruption isn’t a small or unimportant issue. I don’t mean that. I mean the presumption of wrongdoing even when there is little or no evidence whatsoever to back the claim. Sure. We should keep our government in check. But insisting on a full investigation into our officials’ finances over unsubstantiated accusations? Are we going to go after every minister who has been accused of something by anyone?
As Tan warned, Singapore cannot continue like that, or the discord and mistrust sown between the government and the people, along with the endless witch hunts, will hurtle us towards the abyss of downfall. Like Glubb wrote, the over-excessive focus on anything but how to progress society leads to her collapse. And frivolity. If one day our parliamentary debates turn into college party chatter, then we are truly headed to the bottom.
Empires fall because their leaders gradually decay into frivolous and fickle individuals, more concerned with their own whims and pleasures, and little things, than their people and the state of the country. One Ridout Road saga should be enough warning for us to pull up our socks or go down. As Glubb wrote, “It has been shown that, normally, the rise and fall of great nations are due to internal reasons alone.” Singapore must make sure we don’t fall apart from the inside.
Hongpeng Wei is a student and avid writer based in Singapore. You can read all his works in his profile.
