A Caning in Singapore Stirs Up a Fierce Debate About
Crime and Punishment
ROUGH JUSTICE
by Alejandro Reyes
The Vandalism Act of 1966 was originally conceived as a legal weapon to combat the spread of mainly political graffiti common during the heady days of Singapore’s struggle for independence. Enacted a year after the republic left the Malaysian Federation, the law explicitly mandates between three and eight strokes of the cane for each count, though a provision allows first offenders to escape caning “if the writing, drawing, mark or inscription is done with pencil, crayon, chalk or other delible substances and not with paint, tar or other indelible substances….”
Responding to reporters’ questions, U.S. charge d’affaires Ralph Boyce said: “We see a large discrepancy between the offense and the punishment.
The cars were not permanently damaged; the paint was removed with thinner.
Caning leaves permanent scars. In addition, the accused is a teenager and this is his first offense.”
By evening, the Singapore government had its reply: “Unlike some other societies which may tolerate acts of vandalism, Singapore has its own standards of social order as reflected in our laws. It is because of our tough laws against anti-social crimes that we are able to keep Singapore orderly and relatively crime-free.” The statement noted that in the past five years, fourteen young men aged 18 to 21, twelve of whom were Singaporean, had been sentenced to caning for vandalism. Fay’s arrest and sentencing shook the American community in Singapore. Schools advised parents to warn their children not to get into trouble. The American Chamber of Commerce said “We simply do not understand how the government can condone the permanent scarring of any 18-year-old boy—American or Singaporean—by caning for such an offense.” Two dozen American senators signed a letter to Ong on Fay’s behalf.
But according to a string of polls, Fay’s caning sentence struck a chord in the U.S. Many Americans fed up with rising crime in their cities actually supported the tough punishment. Singapore’s embassy in Washington said that the mail it had received was overwhelmingly approving of the tough sentence. And a radio call-in survey in Fay’s hometown of Dayton, Ohio, was strongly pro-caning.
He reckoned the whole affair revealed America’s moral decay. “The U.S. government, the U.S. Senate and the U.S. media took the opportunity to ridicule us, saying the sentence was too severe,” he said in a television interview. “[The U.S.] does not restrain or punish individuals, forgiving them for whatever they have done. That’s why the whole country is in chaos: drugs, violence, unemployment and homelessness. Th e American society is the richest and most prosperous in the world but it is hardly safe and peaceful.”
The debate over caning put a spotlight on Singapore’s legal system.
Lee and the city-state’s other leaders are committed to harsh punishments.
Preventive detention laws allow authorities to lock up suspected criminals without trial. While caning is mandatory in cases of vandalism, rape and weapons offenses, it is also prescribed for immigration violations such as overstaying visas and hiring of illegal workers. The death penalty is automatic for drug trafficking and firing a weapon while committing a crime. At dawn on May 13, six Malaysians were hanged for drug trafficking, bringing to seventeen the number executed for such offenses so far this year, ten more than the total number of prisoners executed in all of 1993.
Most Singaporeans accept their brand of rough justice. Older folk readily speak of the way things were in the 1950s and 1960s when secret societies and gangs operated freely. Singapore has succeeded in keeping crime low. Since
1988, government statistics show there has been a steady decline in the crime rate from 223 per 10,000 residents to 175 per 10,000 last year. Authorities are quick to credit their tough laws and harsh penalties for much of that….
“If there is a single fundamental difference between the Western and Asian world view, it is the dichotomy between individual freedom and collective welfare,” said Singapore businessman and former journalist Ho Kwon Ping in an address to lawyers on May 5, the day Fay was caned. “The Western cliché that it would be better for a guilty person to go free than to convict an innocent person is testimony to the importance of the individual. But an Asian perspective may well be that it is better that an innocent person be convicted if the common welfare is protected than for a guilty person to be free to inflict further harm on the community.”
There is a basic difference too in the way the law treats a suspect. “In Britain and in America, they keep very strongly to the presumption of innocence,” says Walter Woon, associate professor of law at the National University of Singapore and a nominated MP. “The prosecution must prove that you are guilty. And even if the judge may feel that you are guilty, he cannot convict you unless the prosecution has proven it. So in some cases it becomes a game between the defense and the prosecuting counsel. We would rather convict even if it doesn’t accord with the purist’s traditions of the presumption of innocence.”
Singapore’s legal system may be based on English common law, but it has developed its own legal traditions and philosophy since independence.
The recent severance of all appeals to the Privy Council in London is part of that process. In fundamental ways, Singapore has departed from its British legal roots. The city-state eliminated jury trials years ago—the authorities regard them as error-prone. Acquittals can be appealed and are sometimes overturned. And judges have increased sentences on review. Recently an acquittal was overturned and a bus driver was sentenced to death for murder based only on circumstantial evidence. “Toughness is considered a virtue here,” says Woon. “The system is stacked against criminals. The theory is that a person shouldn’t get off on fancy argument.”
Woon opposes caning to punish non-violent offenses. But he is not an admirer of the American system. Last year, Woon and his family were robbed at gunpoint at a bus stop near Disneyworld in Orlando, Florida.
The experience shook him. America’s legal system, he argues, “has gone completely berserk. They’re so mesmerized by the rights of the individual that they forget that other people have rights too. There’s all this focus on the perpetrator and his rights, and they forget the fellow is a criminal.” Fay is no more than that, Woon says. “His mother and father have no sense of shame.
Do they not feel any shame for not having brought him up properly to respect other people’s property? Instead they consider themselves victims.”
Yet harsh punishments alone are clearly not the salvation of Singapore society. The predominantly Chinese city-state also has a cohesive value system that emphasizes such Confucian virtues as respect for authority,
“No matter how harsh your punishments, you’re not going to get an orderly society unless the culture is in favor of order,” says Woon. “In Britain and
America, they seem to have lost the feeling that people are responsible for their own behavior. Here, there is still a sense of personal responsibility. If you do something against the law, you bring shame not only to yourself but to your family.”
That “sense of shame,” Woon reckons, is more powerful than draconian laws. “Loosening up won’t mean there will be chaos,” he says. “But the law must be seen to work. The punishment is not the main thing. It’s the enforcement of the law. The law has to be enforced effectively and fairly.”
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