Politics: The real Sinha

Zack Snyder’s testosterone-drenched “300” opens with an envoy’s demand that Sparta pay tribute to Xerxes, superpower Persia’s monarch. Xerxes, says the envoy with lip-curling arrogance, commands an army so large that the ground shudders when it marches. Better bow than face an earthquake. Leonidas, the Spartan king whose anger issues prove useful later, kicks the envoy into the maw of a conveniently placed well, delivering the line that launches the movie, and later birthed a thousand memes.

Donald Trump is no Xerxes but several rhetorical boots have landed on Anjani Sinha, his recently arrived envoy to Singapore. Sinha, who rose to infamy as a comically incompetent interviewee during his confirmation hearing, justified the US’s 10 percent trade tariff on Singapore thus: “Over many decades, American taxpayers and service members have underwritten regional security, playing an important role in making Singapore’s economic miracle possible. Now, we are asking our friends to help us rebalance the economy.”

A half-truth, crudely put. Singapore owes its prosperity to US “benevolence” as much as the US owes its ability to project power into the Pacific to Singapore’s bases and naval facilities. An imprecise equivalence, sure, but a reminder that the relationship has always been transactional. Sinha’s loan shark approach, born of a reductive understanding of geopolitics, trade, and commerce, drew intelligentsia indignation. “Singapore facilitated and encouraged the US forward presence and pushed for economic liberalisation. This is not altruism. It was a mutually beneficial collaboration,” Ian Ja Chong, NUS professor, told the South China Morning Post. Echoed Joanne Lin of the ASEAN Studies Centre at the ISEAS-Yusof Ishak Institute: “[A]ny suggestion that Singapore ‘owes’ the US naturally feels off-key.” Online, the response was less measured, with Sinha’s words likened to a thug asking for “protection money” or justifying “outright robbery”. 

Like the Persian envoy, Sinha was merely parroting the words of his (wannabe) king who is remaking the international order in his own venal image. The path he’s set the US on diverges dramatically from what social scientists have been recommending for decades. “Magnanimity and restraint in the face of temptation are the tenets of successful statecraft that have proved their worth from classical Greece onward,” wrote a duo in a 2002 essay considering ways in which the US could extend its unipolar moment. Instead, Trump is fast depleting all the goodwill his predecessors accrued since the second world war by his belligerent use of diplomatic and military power in service of goals his constituents seemingly care about. Shellshocked allies with little room to manoeuvre will comply for now, but the question is: as Rome, Persia and virtually every other empire before or since, is this one too capsizing in a sea of corruption, delusion, and hubris?

Politics: Raeesahgate’s conclusion

The cameras and microphones caught a very different Pritam Singh yesterday morning. Gone was the smoothness and swagger that prompted Cherian George, an academic, to rate the Workers’ Party (WP) leader the best orator since Lee Kuan Yew. Enter hesitation and uncertainty, having just found out that his appeal against the conviction for lying had failed. “I certainly took too long to respond to Raeesah [Khan]’s lie in Parliament. I take responsibility for that.” Later, the WP released a brief statement that ended, “We will persevere in our efforts to earn the trust and support of all Singaporeans.”

The ruling People’s Action Party (PAP) and its boisterous Internet Brigade will do all it can to scupper those efforts, and sow discord within the WP. They’ve been hounding Singh relentlessly since the GE, from questioning his decision to appear on a Malaysian podcast to claiming he doesn’t respect the courts. Among a few comments that will surely become fodder for more attacks, Steven Chong, the High Court judge, said it was “curious that the appellant did not avail himself of seemingly available evidence which may have served as corroboration of his account of events”—referencing Singh’s decision not to call other WP leaders as witnesses in the first trial, even though they were there at what Chong called “material meetings”.

For now Singh, one of Singapore’s most popular politicians, looks secure. But will this guilty verdict—he’s the first sitting opposition MP to be convicted of a criminal offence since JB Jeyaretnam in 1986—influence his internal standing? Or will the WP faithful just dismiss it as further proof, in their eyes, that the system is against them?

Society: Skills-first intervention, not medication, for mild depression

Everything appears fine on the surface. Quotidian routines keep life moving: school, work, errands, homework, childcare, the weekly gym session, the pull of social obligations. Beneath this functioning exterior, however, lies a lingering heaviness: dips in mood and energy; restless, broken sleep; a dwindling interest in activities once enjoyed; a nagging irritability; and a persistent sense of sadness, fatigue, and emptiness. These signs of mental and physical distress begin to diminish quality of life, yet may fall short of meeting the diagnostic threshold for a depressive disorder. Known as subsyndromal (or subthreshold) depression, SSD often goes undiagnosed and untreated. Roughly 17.6 percent of those with the condition develop major depression.

To prevent this slippery progression, the Institute of Mental Health (IMH) is studying whether a form of a treatment typically used for post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) can help adults aged 21-65 with SSD and a history of adverse childhood experiences. Over eight months, a research psychologist will deliver weekly, hour-long one-on-one sessions of Internet-delivered Skills Training in Affective and Interpersonal Regulation, or i-STAIR. The aim is to recruit 150 participants, with the study scheduled to conclude in November 2028. 

IMH’s i-STAIR adapts STAIR, a therapy designed for adults with PTSD whose social and emotional development was disrupted by childhood trauma, such as abuse or neglect. “Trauma impacts skills development by distorting the way we relate to others,” said Dr Liu Jianlin, the study’s lead researcher. “...it impacts the way we trust others and the way we see ourselves in the context of other people.” Participants will learn to regulate feelings, manage stress, and communicate more effectively, while strengthening awareness and understanding of their emotional responses. Online modules include worksheets and role-play exercises; offline, participants complete homework to reinforce new skills. The control group will receive general psychoeducation intervention and guidance on cultivating healthier habits—diet, exercise, and sleep.

While trauma-informed approaches are increasingly used internationally for SSD, IMH’s study is noteworthy for applying a modified PTSD-based treatment to mild depression. And may reflect a broader shift in psychiatry and psychology toward addressing underlying mechanisms of depression instead of waiting for symptoms to escalate. In essence, i-STAIR offers a “skills-first” pathway for individuals who may not require intensive therapy or medication. If successful, it could alter the long-term trajectory of mild depression—a meaningful step toward preventive, scalable and more cost effective mental health care.

Society: Bawah angin

There are few more calming, restorative, pleasurable base sensations than that of wind blowing across your hot body, caressing the skin around your eyes, lifting your torso from its weight. Long before portable USB fans and portable feather fans, powered first by Egyptian slaves, wind came simply from our planet: the cooling and warming of land and water, low and high pressure zones, the Coriolis force emerging from Earth’s rotation. These aided our Austronesian ancestors, our colonial masters, and countless other seafarers who learned to catch wind, watch water, and see patterns in our blinking, shimmering, celestial heavens.

When trying to find a return route from Manila to Acapulco in 1565, Spanish navigators transposed knowledge about wind gyres from the Atlantic onto the Pacific. By heading in a north-easterly direction up to the 38th parallel—roughly where the two Koreas meet—they were able to catch the Pacific’s westerlies, which got them back in 129 days. Thus began the Manila galleon trade, an oval loop on the map with profound implications for societies peering across the world’s largest ocean. Heading west were chickpeas, cocoa, corn, tomato, tobacco, sweet potato, and much else, even silver, for the ingots that Ming China used as currency. Heading east were, also among much else, cloves, cinnamon and ginger; perfumes; Indian ivory; Chinese silk and porcelain; and lots of slaves. 

It is not the only trade that changed the complexion of South-east Asia, but an important one. This week, Singapore announced it’d open an embassy in Mexico next year, our first in the Spanish-speaking world. (A nod to the “global south”?) Mexico gets bad press for drugs and violence, but it’s also a vibrant middle-income country with artistic splendour, deep anthropological and indigenous histories and, likely a corollary, contemporary ecological sensibilities. What might this next interaction between our societies produce?

China, incidentally, was so important to the Manila galleon trade that the road linking Acapulco to Mexico City and Veracruz (on Mexico’s eastern coast) was called “China road”. But it was a different wind system that enabled China to plug in. During winter in the northern hemisphere, winds form and blow from the (cold, high pressure) continental mass towards (warm, low pressure) South-east Asia. The north-east monsoon carried junks from Fujian and Guangzhou to Manila. And that same monsoon, typically strongest about now, was also largely responsible for this past fortnight’s regional devastation and tragedies, fuelling Cyclone Senyar, which killed almost 900 of our neighbours. The Coriolis is weak around the equator, and so are wind systems, and that’s why Singapore is unlikely to ever face the kind of torment our neighbours do.

We’ll each feel the north-east monsoon in our own way: a wind corridor in the CBD, kitesurfing off Changi, skipping over a puddle. And if you’re boarding a (pollutive) flight this December, remember that climate change is worsening the risk of tropical cyclones. But if it’s a loved one you’re travelling with, or heading to, that pang of guilt, like the molecules of air that touch the end of your eye, will blow away.

Some further reading: In his column about two years ago, Faris Joraimi, Jom’s history editor, discusses the north-east monsoon’s impact on our life and language, including the concept of bawah angin. 

Society: Homeless not houseless

The pandemic shone a light on how forced confinement can harm vulnerable individuals in strained familial settings. In 2020, physical child abuse cases hit a 10-year high. By 2021, The Straits Times (ST) was reporting rising psychological and emotional abuse of the elderly. Violence at home left many with no choice but to leave. That year, temporary shelters reached capacity as occupancy surged more than sixfold, from 65 to 420. Most residents were Singaporean men over 50. 

Four years on, the profile is shifting: Homeless Hearts of Singapore has seen more rough sleepers under 35. As of end-October, nearly half of the 103 help requests had come from this younger group, up from 37 percent in 2022. Most left home due to family conflicts and fears over their safety. 

Still, public sentiment minimises the issue: “In Singapore, as long as you have the will, it’s nearly impossible to go homeless. [The] worst you can go is rental flats”, a Redditor remarked. Homeownership and the nuclear family are emblematic of the Singaporean identity, rendering homelessness a material binary—having a house or not—which overlooks safety, stability, and dignity as essential components of housing.

Young adults under 35 face distinct vulnerabilities. Ineligible for public housing, they shoulder high rents; those who cannot afford it are mired in paperwork for temporary shelter, further straining their cognitive bandwidth as they juggle school or work.

Our collective faith in the nuclear family, reinforced by policy and a culture of filial piety, has also narrowed how we speak about family conflict. Problems are softened into “squabbles”, children who speak up are dismissed as the “strawberry” or “snowflake” generation, and little attention is paid to how rising costs-of-living and pressure-cooker school or work environments burden parent–child relationships. Singapore may not see teen runaway trends like Japan or South Korea, but the rise in younger rough sleepers demands a reassessment of how housing stability, family dynamics, and systemic pressures intersect.

Arts: The webs that bind us

Ecosystem. Ecology. Landscape. These collective nouns are often used to describe our arts community; yet we rarely ascribe the environmental metaphor further meaning. But what if we took seriously our membership in this artistic ecology we call home? What might it mean to live as citizens of a bioregion—rather than a nation-state—a “lifeplace” defined by natural boundaries, such as a shared climate or geography? We’d probably be a lot more attentive to the other communities we’re sharing the place with, whether that’s the human or more-than-human, like the good bacteria bubbling away in a pickling jar. 

Two initiatives by arts groups here hope to reorient our attention to both the abstract concepts and the practical tools we might need to imagine our ecosystems differently in a climate crisis. To worldbuild together, we’ll need both a shared narrative and shared know-how. This weekend, the inaugural Living Earth Festival will celebrate soil, land, food, and community. For just S$15, you can get a three-day festival pass to hands-on workshops, cozy conversations and film screenings, including an introduction to the very soil we tread: how it’s dug up during construction, distributed for reclamation, developed for housing; peruse a community market featuring local organic produce, homemade kombucha or on-the-spot poetry; and walk through a “living map” of Singapore’s landscapes and neighbourhoods, and contribute to the growth of the mixed-media installation. 

And, two weeks ago, pioneering company The Theatre Practice hosted the second edition of Green Stages, an annual symposium on sustainability challenges here. The team is also working on a Singapore edition of the Theatre Green Book, slated for publication in May next year, that consolidates best practices and resources for creating sustainable theatre in Singapore. “Sustainability” often feels like an impossible goal; the Green Book aims to break this down into digestible and doable strategies and processes so that we might, as Finnish scholar Raisa Foster defines sustainability, collectively develop “the capacity to endure”. At the symposium in November, artists and producers shared their adventures about making small but radical changes to rehearsal and production processes. For the recent play “Scenes from the Climate Era”, the production team set themselves the task of repurposing as many set pieces and costumes as possible. They found one of their key props—a steel-reinforced banquet table that could miraculously bear the weight of eight performers—in a hard-to-reach loading bay at the Esplanade, requiring a forklift and some derring-do. Attendees at the symposium also compiled a crowd-sourced list of resources, from food rescue Telegram channels to furniture-sharing Facebook groups, that arts companies might turn to for lobang. 

“Beg, borrow, steal” has long been the mantra of productions on a shoestring. But perhaps we could take a leaf from organisms that prey, parasitise, compete—or cooperate in mutually beneficial ways with each other. “All the living organisms in an ecosystem depend on each other,” Foster writes, with her collaborator Sami Keto. “This interdependence within an ecosystem is like a spider web—if one strand is broken, it affects the whole web.”

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Abhishek Mehrotra, Sakinah Safiee, Corrie Tan, Tsen-Waye Tay, and Sudhir Vadaketh wrote this week’s issue.

Letters in response to any blurb can be sent to sudhir@jom.media. All will be considered for publication on our “Letters to the editor” page.

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