Speakers' corner dying a slow death from natural causes

Fabio Scarpello, Contributor, Singapore

The police officer at Kreta Ayer Police Post smiles sympathetically when asked for the list of those registered to talk at speakers' corner. November only saw six and December did not show any improvement.

He added that "even these few may not turn up and if they do, there will be no-one that listens".

The current situation contrasts vividly with the citizens "high expectations" on Sept. 1, 2000, when Lim Kian Heng, a 40- year-old delivery driver, was the first official speaker at the site. He was soon to be followed by Ong Chin Guan, a 38-year-old bus driver, and 18 other speakers, while many more listened.

Back then it seemed a step forward for freedom of expression even in a country where "talking in public" is looked down on and considered a Western thing to do.

But after little more than four years, the expectations have been largely unfulfilled and for the speakers' corner, it has been all down hill since. Location, rules and the local social political culture are all elements contributing to the slow natural death of what remains the only venue to "speak freely" in the tightly controlled city-state.

Clark Quay is the closest station to Hong Lim Park, where the speakers' corner takes place during the daily hours. Here with the lack of shelters and drink stalls, speakers and listeners alike are at the mercy of the equatorial sun or monsoon rains, depending on the season.

For those who decide to brave the elements, another obstacle is represented by the incessant traffic noise, as the park (more a tiny trimmed grass patch) is literally squeezed between two main intersections. The ban on loudspeakers, microphones or any sort of musical instruments is of no help whatever.

Singapore's speakers' corner is loosely based on its predecessor in London's Hyde Park, but -- in truth -- the similitude end with the name. In London, the German Karl Marx once preached against capitalism, but here he could not even speak, as only Singaporean citizens are allowed to use the facility, where it is compulsory to speak in one of the four official languages -- Malay, Chinese, Tamil and English.

And good old Karl could not even sneak in if he tried, as speakers have to register in advance at the adjacent police station where identity cards have to be presented. For any good measures their names will be kept on record for five years.

Even if he had happened to be born in Singapore, Marx's lectures on social revolution would -- most likely -- have infringed the Sedition Act, which allows for detention without trial.

It is not the only law that can be breached by airing one's ideas at the speakers' corner, in fact. While speakers are exempted from having to obtain a public entertainment license under the Public Entertainments Speakers' Corner Exemption Order 2000, the weight of the restrictive Singapore laws still applies, and no other special exception is considered.

It follows that in a city state of 3.5 million where 76 percent are ethnic Chinese, 15 percent Malays and 6 percent Indian, speeches that "have the potential to cause feelings of enmity, hatred, ill-will or hostility between different racial or religious" are off the menu as these might contravene the Maintenance of Religious Harmony Act and the Penal Code.

If there were any doubts on the seriousness of the government to go after those that dare to sway from the law, they were wiped out when Dr. Chee Soon Juan, secretary general of the opposition Democratic Party, was fined S$3,000 for speaking about race and religion.

Chee is not new to contradictory speeches: in 1999, after making a public address without a permit he was charged with violating the Public Entertainments and Meetings Act and jailed for 12 days.

Self-censorship and a widespread political apathy are the general consequences while the future of the speaker's corner is bleak, to say the least.