Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they aren’t out to get you. – US actor Buck Henry 

The writer Pat Conroy (The Prince of Tides) would have had no problems understanding Singapore: “I’ve always found paranoia to be a perfectly defensible position.” 

Most folk don’t think that way so you can imagine our astonishment when my niece, showing us around her home for the first time, casually remarked: “And that’s the bomb shelter.”

It was spacious, a reinforced concrete shelter capable of accommodating herself, two children, her six-foot husband, and their live-in helper, Mirabelle. 

It looked sturdy enough to withstand a Tomahawk strike. In the quiet of a Singapore evening, however, it looked like what it was: a storeroom along whose shelves were stacked canned food and kitchenware. 

“Most of my neighbours use it for storage space,” Anita said matter-of-factly: she lived in private housing along the island’s east coast.  She was clearly surprised by our reaction. I suppose she’d grown up with its reality and took it for granted. 

When Singapore was ejected from Malaysia in 1965, the separation wasn’t amicable. Lee Kuan Yew, the republic’s premier, described his principal threat perception then in succinct fashion: “We were a Chinese island in a Malay sea.”

The new state promptly turned to Israel for advice and, in short order, an army was created.

It’s been speedy and surprising ever since. The creation of a two-year, 

mandatory conscription program for able-bodied males followed and it’s grown exponentially. 

Separately, only Switzerland, Taiwan and Israel have similar schemes, although Israel includes women as well.

Bomb shelters in new HDB housing made its appearance then. It isn’t clear if that’s still being built but it may no longer be necessary.

It can be found all over the island instead. There are shelters in schools, HDB housing, MRT stations, community centres and most major developments.

Things have moved on. If reservists are called up, Singapore’s standing Army today would be larger than Malaysia’s, while its Air Force is probably the most sophisticated in the region.

On our way to dinner two weeks ago, we were startled by a waling klaxon reminiscent of the Battle of Britain: the noise was shocking. But the driver explained it was a drill, that the sound could be heard all over the island. “It’s a yearly thing so we’re ready for any emergency.”

Later I found out that the drill had been publicised over radio and television for days beforehand. 

Not since the Scouts! The republic clearly takes its LKY-isms seriously: “We don’t leave anything to chance.” 

Well, almost. 

During the 2011 Presidential election, Tony Tan, a former People’s Action Party (PAP) minister, won by 100-odd votes from three other credible alternatives, all Singapore Chinese as well. It was the proverbial skin of the teeth (SOTT) stuff.  

In 2017, the post was reserved for a Malay on the grounds that one hadn’t held the position since 1970. In the event, Halimah Yacob, a former PAP Speaker of Parliament, won by walkover: two other Malay candidates were rejected.

Last month’s election saw former deputy premier and PAP-linked, Tharman Shanmugaratnam face two opponents, both Singapore Chinese, and one of whom had helped build Singapore’s reserves to its current enormity. 

A humdinger was predicted, and all candidates were afforded publicity. My friends, including analysts I’d used in my media days, said it would be SOTT all over again.  

It was an anti-climax. 

Tharman won in a landslide getting a majority (over 70%) the PAP hadn’t seen in decades. 

It was surprising and, in the words of diplomat-lawyer Tommy Koh, “a triumph for multi-racialism.”

The city’s populace (77% Chinese) had transcended race to pick the sole non-Chinese candidate, the one they thought was best. 

It was astonishing.

Would that it might happen here in Malaysia?

ENDS