Like all old places steeped in death and history, Bukit Brown, the old Chinese cemetery, is filled with an aura of profound, dilapidated sadness. No well-manicured grounds with tidy plots here. Instead one is treated to an almost surreal vista of sprawling ruin: untended, overgrown graves with cracked, faceless headstones like the ruins of some ancient lost civilization hidden deep inside dense jungle.
But this is modern day, contemporary Singapore, a place where space is quite literally at a premium, even for those long since physically departed from this existence. As the government tries to strike a balance between maintaining heritage places imbued with history and the satisfying the rapacious, insatiable pace of accommodation demand, Bukit Brown Cemetery (or BBC) is but one skirmish in a societal conflict that can have no easy outcome.
It’s not hard to see why this place holds appeal. The roads and paths circle and loop around a large unspoilt area of grassland and undulating dense copses of huge trees left free to spread and tower, unchecked by the constraints of the ever-encroaching city. Creepers run riot, tangling the undergrowth and strangling some of the old tombstones, while ferns of every variety thrive in this shaded refuge. Walks in this unspoiled garden jungle are invariably peaceful and soothing, and can inspire a jaded younger generation more at home with escaping into the virtual world to learn something about the reality of history, culture, beliefs and practices that are becoming increasingly unfamiliar to them.
Chinese cemeteries like BBC are meant to be familial spaces. Every year, during the Qingming Festival in March and April, some Chinese clans will dutifully trudge through the undulating landscape to locate their ancestors' tombs, clear away the overgrown foliage, and make offerings to their forebears.
However, BBC is more than just a familial space. It is also intertwined with the early history of Singapore. Among those interred at BBC were prominent leaders of the local Chinese community, philanthropists, municipal commissioners, Chinese revolutionaries and literati, and even colonial office bearers from the Dutch East Indies: Examples of the aforementioned well-known and prominent Singapore residents include Chew Boon Lay, Lim Chong Pang, Ong Sam Leong,Tan Chor Nam, Khoo Kay Hian, and Wee Chim Yean.
Concurrently, the materials used in the construction of tombs, such as fine stone reliefs from China and decorative ceramic tiles from Europe, demonstrate a material culture that is very much integrated with the global economy of the early 20th century. Furthermore, the cemetery features some of the largest, most intricate and oldest graves found in Singapore. For example, the tomb of Ong Sam Leong and his wife is said to be the largest tomb in Singapore and it is one of a small number that features statues of Indian watchmen standing eerie guard over the grave.
Chinese culture has a rich variety of symbols that are not only decorative but are also expressions of religious beliefs, of good wishes for luck, wealth and longevity. The cemetery is a wealth of such symbols - from a tiny mouse and dainty butterfly to a powerful dragon and a soaring phoenix. From plum blossoms and peonies and the gentle Chi'lin, to tigers driving demons and splendid temple lions with their gargoyle-like smiles.
In May 2011, the Singapore government announced that BBC had been earmarked for housing and with initial development plans in the form of a dual four-lane road being unveiled. About 4,000 graves in its path would be displaced, with the remainder eventually making way for a housing project over the next few decades.
Such announcements were rather commonplace as Singapore’s growth and development required more space to feed its relentless urbanization. However, unexpected by the authorities, public sentiment has changed. Over the past few decades of economic growth and pursuit of 5 Cs, (condo, car, club, cash and credit card - Singapore’s status symbols) people have also began searching for their identity and their cultural roots.
This is no surprise. Singapore’s story in the post SG 50 era is increasingly one of two solitudes: one seen by multinationals and business travelers; and the other for the local population. A trip down Orchard Road, the city’s historic haut couture retail boulevard, reminds one of Hong Kong’s Causeway Bay, New York’s Fifth Avenue, or London’s Regent Street. Much of this Singapore -- so anxious to appeal to the global rich and corporations -- has become a uniform and predictable outgrowth of the global Monoculture. For example, along Orchard Road one will find four Starbucks, two McDonalds, two Din Tai Fungs, two Sake Sushis, two Uniclos, three Smiggles all within mere blocks of each other, some merely across the road. The suburbs, or what were once referred to as ‘new towns,’ are more of the same. What was once a thriving city state of distinct neighborhoods has become faceless.
The young are drawn to the other Singapore. In areas such as Geylang, restaurants, bars, and ill-disguised houses of ill repute coexist with a heavy concentration of Buddhist temples and Islamic mosques. Also popular is Tiong Bahru, the old art-deco district of open-air restaurants, hip bars, and charming apartments. But even here, independent restaurants and shops, which once proliferated, struggle with high rents, as they do in other prosperous global cities and virtually everywhere in the theme park that Singapore feels like.
These districts satisfy native Singaporeans’ nostalgia for an earlier version of the city, imagined as more romantic and less relentlessly hygienic (or antiseptic, depending on one's point of view). Eager to rediscover what they see as a grittier and more human past, younger Singaporeans have pushed to save what’s left of Singapore’s architectural heritage. They express a desire to return to the values of community they associate, interestingly enough, with communal Malay culture. This “kampong spirit” reflects a deep disconnect between the goals of the bureaucracy and those of many citizens. Though the government has attempted to sloganize this sentiment, it has not been all that effective at galvanizing enough sustained enthusiasm.
Part of the issue lies with the fact that the Singaporean government does not “do” values very well without managing to either sound trite or hectoring. What they excel at though, is to produce a lot of programs and schemes, almost one a day (weekends included). These campaigns and announcements may indeed be necessary to ensure continued good governance, but the bureaucrats seem have never heard the adage “too much of a good thing.” The sheer relentless nature of the messaging has turned earnestness into background noise, which is then either ignored or paid lip service to. The governmental apparatus is designed for utilitarianism, not for democratic consensus in the western sense: it sets the path and the people are really not that involved (despite the veneer of public consultations), other than to validate what has already been designed.
The movement of foreign capital and workers into Singapore has further intensified the feeling of cultural drift and concerns about the future. As the labor supply has dwindled, partly because of a plunging birthrate and the consistent out-migration referenced in prior posts, the city-state has become ever more dependent on foreign labor. As recently as 1980, over 90 percent of residents were Singaporean citizens. Today, that number has fallen to 63 percent; by 2030, if the government projections hold up, foreigners will actually outnumber the natives.
Many Singaporeans feel that the foreign influx is estranging them from their own country. Walk the streets, take the MRT, ride a taxi, speak with locals – it doesn’t take a sociologist or psychologist to observe how those who consider themselves native interact with others. These tensions can be seen in other global cities, of course, such as New York, London, and Toronto, but these are large, sprawling metropolitan regions with vast hinterlands (i.e. Singapore is scarcely larger than metro Toronto). The impact of population growth and immigration is more intensely felt in such a space-constrained country.
Like other successful global cities, Singapore is also rapidly becoming a place for the rich; its millionaire households now number around 190,000. As in other global cities, rising levels of real-estate investment from China, the Indian diaspora, Indonesia, and the Middle East have driven up prices, particularly in the private housing market. Many see the influx of foreign wealth as undermining the essentially egalitarian nature of traditional Singaporean society. Some Singaporeans of Chinese descent take a particularly dim view of newly arrived Indians, whether professionals or lower-wage workers. That sentiment has spread to include those from the Chinese mainland – people who look like the Chinese here, but with different accents, outlooks and behavioural practices.
The presence of so many skilled foreign workers from China, Bangladesh and India is straining social cohesion. Increased competition for low-wage jobs has stoked tension among the city’s south Indian and Sri Lankan immigrants, who occupy much of the lower employment tier.
Singapore’s challenges go beyond its changing population. A diminishing portion of Singaporeans say that they are interested in marriage. Singapore’s birthrate is now one of the world’s lowest. Since 1990, the number of births to Singapore residents has dropped from almost 50,000 annually to barely 37,000. The government has sought to reverse this pattern with well-funded incentives to encourage families—such as subsidies for housing—but the fertility rate still stands at 1.3 per woman, well below replacement level.
History suggests that the demographic decline cannot be arrested. Despite efforts by the government to offer incentives, the perception that having children is could limit one’s options in an increasingly competitive marketplace where rising costs have put pocketbooks under strain, has taken hold. To some extent, this view reflects trends throughout Asia, where family bonds are weakening. The low-birth pattern is also evident in Singapore’s regional, notably Hong Kong and Japan, where nearly half of young couples believe that they can’t afford to have children.
Young Singaporeans say that the decision not to have children is pragmatic. Many Singaporeans suspect that, however good things may be now, they won’t be better for the next generation.
Personal goals have become more important than either social or religious ones. People don’t think they can afford the housing for children, nor do they wish to stay for indefinite amounts of time with their parents, so they opt not to have offspring.
Singapore’s centralized planning system, must confront what their Japanese peers face—an aging population that can only be sustained by immigration. By 2030, Singapore could have many more people over 65 than under 25. If this trend continues, the main question facing the city-state may not be how to reinvent itself for the next half century, but how to get rich enough, fast enough, to support millions of elderly citizens. This cannot happen if finances are being expended on a plethora of never-ending tactical initiatives that remain lurching about the governmental landscape like zombies from the television show Walking Dead, and which no one seems to want to kill. Already the government acknowledges that tweaks to the CPF, hydroelectric costs as well as reviews of Medisave, are likely to result in increased costs to end users. Now, to be fair, these costs are almost ridiculously low in comparison to Western countries,' yet will, over time, represent a material impact on the average Singaporean.
So then, what does The Way Ahead look like?
Going forward, it seems clear that Singapore must revisit its model, and perhaps jettison the idea of manufacturing consent entirely. The city-state needs less planning and more managed spontaneity. Government attempts to promote creativity or start new cutting-edge industries will have challenges in a society where open expression can have limits. In this sense it’s unlikely that even middle class Chinese citizens who take up living here would want censorship. After all, why leave China to live in China?
Singapore’s planners will be tempted to meet the new challenges by doing what they do best—designing, implementing, and managing vast new projects, especially physical infrastructure, in an attempt to keep the city competitive. In recent years, these efforts have included a remarkable “greening” of the city, with many small parks and a network of nature trails as well as Gardens by the Bay, a large indoor collection of trees, recently completed near the central core. The Gardens represent a broader effort to grow Singapore’s service and tourism sectors, notably through the construction of a massive casino—an astonishing development, as gambling was long considered a curse in Chinese culture. Lee Kwan Yew promised that casinos would appear in his country only “over my dead body,” but even before his death, gambling had become big business: Singapore has vaulted ahead of Las Vegas to boast the world’s second-largest casino revenue. Only Macau takes in more.
But turning Singapore into an Asian Las Vegas won’t solve the city’s fundamental problems. The real crisis is not in how Singapore is regarded in New York and London, or even in Beijing and Shanghai, but how it meets the needs and aspirations of its own people. Singapore’s leaders must revamp their approach to governance, becoming more responsive to local needs and less focused on defined goals.
The old managerial model, has become outdated. To thrive in the future, Singapore will have to find its way without a pre-drawn map. As Asia modernizes and develops a modern infrastructure, Singaporeans cannot remain competitive merely by being more efficient or better educated. The city-state will have to rediscover the boldness of its founding generation, even while discarding many of its methods.
It is time for Singapore to become pioneers again, and recognize that the advantages it enjoyed are ever changing in an increasingly globalized world.
It is time to Boldly Go.