The black and very white of the legal system in Singapore

Here’s a fun fact: did you know that the Lady Justice statue on our old Supreme Court isn’t wearing a blindfold? The blindfold is supposed to be a symbol of objectivity and fairness, though there are some who point out that it was a relatively modern and redundant addition because inherently, her impartiality should already be guaranteed without it. Still, isn’t the irony cute?

Before we get into how cute it is, let’s look at the three branches of government: the Legislature (Puan Halimah and parliament), the Executive (led by PM Lee and ministers) and the Judiciary (judges, lawyers and Lady Justice when she’s free). So put very simplistically:

Legislature: I make the law

Executive: I administer the law

Judiciary: I decide with the law

In an ideal world (so definitely not this one), these branches should be separate from each other and acting independently. But as you can imagine, it’s very difficult to do that when you’re three branches of the same tree.

It’s not often that the United States is a good example, but there have been legal challenges from the judiciary side on Trump-instated policies like his travel ban. Meanwhile, people in Singapore are like “wha-?”, aren’t the courts and the government the same thing?

And it’s not even unreasonable to think like that. Take POFMA, Singapore’s naughty fake news law. It allows ministers to be the ultimate deciders of ‘truth’ — they can demand for a statement to be ‘corrected’ or taken down as long as they say it’s false. POFMA doesn’t allow for the High Court (judiciary) to reverse a decision even if it believes the minister abused the law.

The separation of powers is important for making sure a small group of people don’t get to exercise too much control over the country. But what we have now is a justice system that is deeply-rooted in the increasingly outdated political principles set out by the People’s Action Party.

All this is being played out right now in the cases involving Parti Liyani, Syed Suhail and Raeesah Khan.

In a funny way — sad funny not haha funny — Raeesah’s case is the simplest to understand. In fact, the most surprising thing about this case is how blatantly obvious and simple it is. Even though it never reached the courts, the police force’s ‘stern warning’ is a good example of how the justice system can be used to silence critics.

This screenshot is just *chef’s kiss*. But also remember that these two cases are not the same. Yes they were both racially-charged, but it’s not a racism versus racism comparison. The biggest difference here is that while Xiaxue’s remarks were outright racist, they were aimed at specific people and groups. Raeesah’s comments, on the other hand, targeted the system that favours some groups over others.

So if the police were really worried about ‘promoting enmity between different groups’, surely Xiaxue’s comments would have fit the bill too. And if I wanted to take an easy route, I would just peg this down to the PAP trying to delegitimise an opposition candidate. But there’s this additional count on Raeesah for ‘scandalising the court’ that we can’t shake off. Basically, you can come for other ethnic groups (and make money from it) but don’t come for the system.

And when I say ‘the system’, it’s not just the black and white of laws and regulations. It also includes the structures that allow Singapore to be as successful as it is today. The David and Goliath battle between Parti Liyani and the Liews showed how the inequality of the legal system can be something we take for granted because it’s built on the same stuff that made Singapore rich.

The Liews are not being held to account for fabricating a crime and nearly messing up someone’s life, walking away with nothing but an early retirement. How does one get a glowing shoutout from Temasek Holdings? Be a high-profile businessman, file a fake police report and lie in court. It’s a classic case of ‘ownself protect ownself’ which the legal system also seems to be a part of.

On the other extreme end of the spectrum, Parti’s battle with Singapore-style justice is exceptional only in its triumph but not in its struggle. Migrant workers suffer from injustices and abuse here more often than we’d like to believe. But it’s almost impossible for them to get access to legal support and there are barely any regulations providing them with enough protection (cc @JosephineTeo).

One of the hard truths we have to face is that Singapore’s success is partly a result of protecting the elites and turning a blind eye to the poor and marginalised. It is something that has manifested in how justice looks like in the country.

At the base level, the law serves two purposes: 1) Punish people for doing bad things and 2) Prevent people from doing bad things. When it comes to drug-related offences in Singapore, punishments are usually aimed more at 2 instead of 1. The country’s zero-tolerance policy towards illicit drugs is well-intentioned but it has also created a punitive system that is irreversible in more ways than one.

The planned execution of Syed Suhail has shone a spotlight on Singapore’s obsession with soulless absoluteness when it comes to drugs. Firstly, there is no proof that the death penalty works better than any other punishment in deterring future offenders. And the sheer morbidness of it has pushed the topic of drug abuse further out from our comfort zone, discouraging important discussions on how to actually address the problem in Singapore.

The stigma that the legal system perpetuates towards drug-related offenders is also something that seems irreversible. The Yellow Ribbon Project goes on and on about giving ex-offenders a second chance but how does that fit within a system that will choose death even in a situation where rehabilitation is a reasonable option?

I guess at the end of it all, what is the role of justice? Is it really just a question of how we punish people or how we maintain order? True justice should be about protecting the people and their rights, not to protect a few while picking and choosing who else gets access to basic rights. Justice should be about safeguarding people’s livelihoods, not denying them of it. Justice is more than just a classification of being good or being bad — it should also encourage and provide opportunities for people to be better.

If this fails, Lady Justice will probably reach out for the blindfold herself.