Long have I heard of this talented potter and dreamt of meeting him, but it was not till years later when our paths crossed on the Road to Tehran that I finally caught up with him, and discover the man behind the craft.

Act 1: early 1960s, the back room of 62 Monk’s Hill Terrace

As a trainee ‘O’ level teacher, I discovered Omar Khayyam and through his delightful quatrains was introduced, aside from the delights of the grapes, to the world of the potter and his pots of clay.

Whenever I felt bored in my little room in my father’s government quarters terrace house, I would snatch my little Rubaiyat companion and read my favourite verses from this irreverent Sufi poet.

Sober or high, the Rubaiyat never fail to delight and enlighten me of the foibles and frailties of the human pots of clay.

Some of my favourites included references to the divine potter and just to quote two:

Then said another –‘’Surely not in vain

My substance from the common Earth was taken

That He who subtly wrought me into Shape

Shall stamp me back to common Earth again.’’

Another said – ‘’Why ne’er a peevish Boy,

Would break the Bowl from within he drank in Joy;

Shall He that made the vessel in pure Love

And Fancy, in after Rage destroy?’’

 Whenever I felt remorse then, I would think of the Rubaiyat and console myself, saying that ‘’in fashioning me the Potter’s hands did shake – feverishly’’.

Act 2: early spring 2008, in the land of the mullahs, ayatollahs and also the Rubaiyat

Although the potter lives practically a stone’s throw from my sister’s place in Kembangan where my father also lives and I know his younger brother, Rahim, we never met until I joined a 12 day tour of Iran organized by friends from the Bukit Timah campus days.

Aside from Iskandar and his lovely wife, Saleha, others in the small group included Jailani Rohani, Aminahton, Amin Sidek, Moksim Salleh, Aziz Hussein, Jamal, Ashfaq and Abdul Malek Ishak.

It was on the long dusty bus ride from Tehran to Kermanshah that I finally came face to face with the potter in the flesh – Iskandar Jalil, small-built, short, wiry and tanned, but warm and down-to-earth.

Early next morning I saw him standing by the bus, dressed in a thin cotton T-shirt, track pants, sneakers, while other were holding tight to their jackets, as the cold spring winds swirled around us.

‘’Doesn’t he feel the cold?’’ I casually asked Saleha. She replied: ‘’He is always like that, quite immune to the cold.’’ I told myself that this potter might have been an Eskimo in his previous life.

A few days later, while touring the ruins of Persepolis – once the capital of the mighty Persian Empire – I noticed the care that he took taking shots from his small but upmarket Sony digital camera, often giving instructions to Saleha on how to pose or how to take shots of him.

I asked him on his photography and he let me view images from his camera; I would see the touch of professionalism reflected in the tightness of the composition and the attention given to perspective. In Malay, you say: ‘’ada standard lah.’’ (high standard )

Next, I noticed he always had a tightly packed haversack on his back from which he often drew out a big, thick, black dairy-like notebook, to write. I was curious and on one occasion peeped over his shoulder; in big bold letters he was writing down the name of the place in addition to sketching the entrance. They took up almost the entire page.

I told myself these were signs of ‘’a big heart and a bold spirit.’’

On the second last day as the bus was taking us back to Tehran from Isfahan, except for the potter, the rest of us were slumped against our seat, a little weary and possibly a little home-sick.

Iskandar, born in 1940 and could be considered as our ‘’abang’’ (elder brother) were going round tirelessly from seat to seat with his big black note book.

Finally, he came to me and handing over his book, said: ‘’Ismail, can I have your name, address, e-mail and phone numbers.’’

He was the only one in our party who did it.

(Unfortunately, Omar’s home town of Nishapur was not on the itinerary. Anyway, our Iranian guide told me there was nothing to see – no monument, no tomb. The mullahs obviously frowned on his Rubaiyat with their plentiful references to taverns and wines and the timeless potter.)

Act 3: One evening about eight months later in 2008, at a renovated 3-storey terrace house in Jalan Kembangan

 Toward the end of Iran tour, I told Saleha that I had heard much talk about their newly renovated home. The result was an open invitation for tea.

After much procrastination, I finally asked Jailani to arrange, and he too needed a little prodding, before he rang up and that was how he and I, and his wife, Aminahton, ended up being graciously treated to a tour of the house.

All I could remember is the minimalist-style, hardly any furniture except for basic wooden stuff and lots of artefacts from his travels and pots, big and small, in varying patterns, scattered all over.

When it was time to say good-bye, the potter took out two small bowls from the cupboard – one dark black, the other light tan – and placed them on the table before us. He then took one in each hand, raised it to eye level and then threw them on the floor with some force.

They landed with a loud thud, rolled a little and then remained still, intact. He picked them up and placed them on the table and asked us to examine the bowls.

We were stunned, speechless. Incredible, there was not even a whiff of a hairline crack. ‘’They are almost unbreakable – a matter of heating technique,’’ he said.

Added the potter: ‘’Take one each. Decide who wants what.’’

I gestured to Jailani and he slowly reached out for the light one. I was happy to take the dark one. So unexpected, so generous, and I felt a little overwhelmed.

Today, the bowl is prominently displayed in my study, perched securely on the topmost shelf above my writing table, flanked by an art book and a little bird house.

Act 4: 14 October 2011, Art-2 Gallery at the MICA building, the opening of the five-day solo exhibition and the launch of a limited edition book – iskandar jalil Images of My Pottery Travels.

About 300 odd pieces, the creme de la creme – of his prodigious output over the last five years are on display in the grand foyer. They come in varying shapes and sizes and colours – bowls, pots, plates, teapots, plates and an assortment of figurines, and their total value by my estimate come to at least S$ a million.

The guests start streaming in from 5.45 pm and by 6.30 pm when the proceedings began the entire place was jam-packed with fans, friends and admirers.

Dressed in a bright brown long-sleeved batik, the silver-haired Iskandar said that he held a solo exhibition every five years.

‘’This is my sixth solo in the last three decades and I think it is going to be my last.

‘’But I will not stop pottering. I will very soon start on another journey, another pilgrimage. My target is to work with up and coming artists from any media and hold joint shows in which I hope to pass my knowledge to them.

‘’I like to teach and I like to help. And any artist who like to join me for a show, please contact me,’’ he added.

Guest of Honour Professor Tommy Koh who is also Ambassador-At-Large then described Iskandar as a master potter and beloved guru.

‘’I am almost speechless. It’s a fabulous show, ‘’ he added and then went on to elaborate his qualities as a teacher and as a traveller, which fitted nicely with my observations.

‘’At 72, you are still young and still capable of producing great works. We look forward to another solo exhibition and if I am still around, I will be honoured to come and open it,’’ added Prof. Koh.

The exhibition will run from the 15^th to the 20^th of October.

Ismail Kassim

15 October 2011

I just met a girl named Hidayah Amin, or Cik Idah in short, who possesses the three Ps – passionate, persistent and plucky or rather pushy, depending on one’s frame of mind – in great abundance.

With such drive, she has obviously been to places; National University of Singapore, Fulbright scholar at LeHigh University, an internship at the United Nations, and currently a graduate student in Cambridge University, to mention just a few.

Her professor at Cambridge mentioned me by name, and that was the start that led us to meet at Wardah Bookshop in Bussorah Street to exchange views and books.

I presented to her my No Hard Feelings memoir (2^nd print 2009) and she, in turn, gave me her Gedung Kuning Memories of a Malay Childhood which was published last year.

Like me, she too felt compelled to tell her story. Unlike me, she managed to get others including the Singapore Heritage Society on board her personal project.

The result is a highly readable and well-produced book, with glossaries of Malay and Javanese words, maps and references that place her subject in the larger context of the culture and history of Singapore and Southeast Asia.

Her family saga began with the arrival of Haji Mohamed Noor Bin Haji Ali who relocated to Singapore from Solo, Java, in the late 19^th century to set up a food business.

It was his son, Singapore-born Haji Yusoff who built the family’s fortune based on songkok (caps) and tali pinggang (belts) and became one of the pillars of the Malay-Muslim society, noted for both his business acumen and his philanthropic activities in and around Kampung Glam.

When Gedung Kuning was put on sale by the descendants of Sultan Hussein in 1912, her maternal great grandfather, Haji Yusoff, wasted no time in buying over this historic building, which is adjacent to the Istana Kampung Glam, for his two wives and their children.

Cik Idah is the fourth generation. She was born and grew up in Gedung Kuning, together with other descendants of Haji Yusoff until the government took it over under the Land Acquisition Act in 1999 to turn it into a Heritage Centre. It is now known as the Tepak sireh restaurant.

Despite protests, the government stood by its decision to compensate the family only $3.6 million for the 13,254 sq. feet stately mansion, which by today’s property prices, looks like daylight robbery.

Obviously, she was peeved at being turned out of her home. But her loss is our gain as it made her conscious of her heritage, and propelled her to want to share that legacy with readers in 28 simple, short stories on growing up in Gedung Kuning.

From such humble materials as a mango tree, nenek (grandmother), emak (mother) and ambin (raised platform), she manages to pull them together into a vivid account of how one girl looks at the life around her.

Through her eyes, we get a glimpse, not only of her family’s contribution, but also the Malay-Muslim way of life that revolves around Islamic festivals and rituals, customs, traditions, fears and prejudices.

At another level, hers is not an unfamiliar story. It is a recurring theme in Malay-Muslim society that the first one or two generation built the wealth, and the succeeding generations lived off the patrimony and squabbled over wills and legal suits and untrustworthy trustees.

In the case of this family, there is at least the hope that Cik Idah might be able to resuscitate, if not the family’s fortune, at least its good name.

The story of Cik Idah, the girl with the 3Ps, will hopefully inspire other Singaporean, especially Malay girls and also the boys, to rev up their drive and pursue their goals with greater focus and determination.

The downside, of course, is that you may be called names, and as she confessed to me on that hot afternoon in the bookshop, a top Malay PAP leader conferred on her another ‘P’ when he called her a pest. I assume it was said half out of exasperation and half in jest.

Given the scarcity of literature in English on the Singapore Malays, I consider her book a valuable addition.

I find particularly the many old photos from the family album reprinted in the book as a visual treat of a way of life long gone by; among them is one showing retired Minister Mentor Lee Kuan Yew, garlanded, and with a black Malay songkok precariously perched on his head, on a visit to Kampung Glam.

I hope that Gedung Kuning will inspire other Malays to pen their stories. You don’t need to be at the pinnacle of your career or be a household figure before you start writing. Like Cik Idah, everybody can also do it.

Some years ago a group of Malay graduates including myself got together to plan a memoir of a generation, with everyone contributing a piece. But it never got off ground as only one member responded.

I still hope that the project can be revived and I am still prepared to play my part to bring it to fruition.

Ismail Kassim

12 October 2011

P/S: Gedung Kuning is available at Wardah and selected bookshops. Wardah, which has a fine selection of books on Sufism, has also started to stock my NO Hard Feelings memoir.

The bookshop is owned by the family of the late Ahmad Ibrahim, Singapore’s first Attorney General and one of the sharpest legal minds. It is now managed by his grandson, Ibrahim.

…what’s next?

And what are we to make of the latest controversy involving our octogenarian and venerable ex-MM’s clarification that he did not describe Islam as a ‘’venomous religion’’ in his meeting with US Senator Hillary Clinton in July 2005.

On the day the WikiLeaks report was published, a group of friends at a Hari Raya gathering unanimously felt that certainly he was capable of saying such a thing and that he probably did say something to that effect. Even a few staunch PAP supporters in our midst concurred.

After all, who was it who publicly said years ago, that it was only prudent not to deploy religious Muslims in the army to ‘’machine guns’’ units.

The next day he denied that he had used the offensive word or said ‘’anything which could have given that impression.’’

As good citizens and good Muslims, I feel we should accept his explanation at face value and move on.

For the sake of academic argument, however, I feel there is no harm in exploring what actually could have taken place on that occasion.

1: The offensive word was used intentionally for reasons not easily fathomable;

2: It was a slip of the tongue during the course of the conversation on how best to deal with Islamic terrorism;

3: It was an adjective coined by the American side to add a little colour to the proceedings; and

4: A deliberate attempt by the note-taker to inject his own bias and prejudices in the report.

I leave it to readers to decide on what they think was the most likely scenario. For me, I have long suspected our venerable leader of having all kinds of negative images of Malays, Muslims and Islam arising from his political struggle for the PAP and he in particular to be given a leading role in Malaysia after Singapore joined the Federation.

From his tears when announcing the Separation more than 47 years ago, it must have been a traumatic event for him. It meant the shattering of all his ideals and aspirations.

To me what is important in the latest controversy is not so much what he actually did say, but what most Singaporeans think he said or is capable of saying.

Actually, many Muslims would applaud him if he had used ‘’venomous’’ to describe the more intolerant elements in their midst including preachers, religious teachers, Islamic bureaucrats, and even rulers, especially the autocratic and hereditary ones, that still deny their citizens basic human and civil rights.

Some of these rulers are still being assiduously wooed by Singapore for business reasons, and some of them are among the US’s list of best friends.

In fact, one of the root causes of the rise of Islamic fundamentalism in the last few decades is the result of massive funding by the House of Saud to spread their own narrow version of what they considered to be the true faith.

Unfortunately, when the nasty label was applied to Islam the religion, all Muslims from mullahs to modernists and from extremists to moderates, to doubters and nominal believers, will instinctively come together to defend the faith.

In his younger days, he acquired a reputation as a wordsmith who, though never flinching from spelling out the hard truths was, never off the mark in his remarks.

The same cannot be said of some of his recent utterances. Like two years ago, when he urged his predominantly Chinese constituents in Tanjong Pagar, to be more conciliatory towards newcomers from the PRC so as to make sure that the composition of the SAF remained unchanged. Though cautiously couched, the ethnic undertone was unmistaken.

Several weeks later he stood up in Parliament to demolish a plea from NMP Viswa Sadisivan that Singapore lived up to its Pledge of extending meritocracy and equal opportunities to all communities in all sectors of national life.

In that address, he told the Malays that – like the blacks in America – they would have to wait for a long time before they could expect equal treatment in the military services.

On that occasion I posted a commentary – For love of country, talk back if you disagree – in which I pointed out that history ‘’is replete with examples of great leaders who overstayed and caused harm to their cause in the latter years of their rule.’’ As an example, I cited Chairman Mao Zedong.

Years ago I remember that an order was sent out to gag the late S. Rajaratnam, on grounds of alleged dementia, when he started expressing views that made the top PAP leaders uncomfortable, but which struck a responsive chord among many Singaporeans.

I am not suggesting that the same action be adopted again. Certainly, the situation does not yet warrant such a drastic move.

But it may be time to start thinking about the negative implications of some of his remarks, which if he continued along the same lines, will complicate the PAP government’s efforts to recover ground lost in the recent general and presidential polls.

For example, just a week ago, the attention of many readers including myself was drawn to an ST report in which he uttered a three-letter word – WAR – when asked to comment on the resolution of the longstanding Malayan Railway land dispute.

To use that word in the context of the landmark bilateral deal, described as mutually beneficial, was in the view of many readers unnecessary and uncalled for.

In China, the Chinese have preferred to remember Mao’s for his contributions to the nation and ignore his mistakes and errors.

I think Singaporeans, including the Malay-Muslim minority too, should adopt the same approach to our venerable ex-MM.

No Hard Feelings.

Ismail Kassim

9 Sept 11

It takes courage to write on one’s life, but to write so
explicitly as well-known poet and playwright Robert Yeo has done in Routes A
Singaporean Memoir 1940-75 takes even more courage.

It is a welcome addition to a genre that has been neglected
for obvious reasons; Asians are generally reticent, particularly on intimate
matters. With few exceptions, the majority of those who have penned their
memoirs have come from the political arena, like Lee Kuan Yew or former
detainees such as Said Zahari and Teo Soh Lung.

Theirs were more in the nature of political memoirs and
their basic motive was to tell their side of the story for posterity.

In Routes, Robert has done the opposite; his recollections
is highly personal and come complete with details of boyhood peccadilloes,
loves and escapades, scenes from his work and career as a teacher and lecturer,
and excerpts from his poetry and plays.

According to the great American writer Gore Vidal, a memoir
is ‘’how one remembers one’s life, while an autobiography is history, requiring
research, dates, facts double-checked.’’

On this basis, I would classify Routes as an auto-memoir.
Like a historian, he has adopted the chronological approach, arranging his massive
material mined from dairies, letters, press reports, poems…to supplement his recollections,
on practically a year by year basis.

All in, his tome takes 23 chapters and 384 pages and that
also is only for the first half of his life up to the age of 35 years. He has
no preface and on the basis of his one-page acknowledgement, it is not possible
to know what drives him to tell his story, why he decides on 1975 as the
cut-off point, and whether there will be a second volume on the latter part of
his life.

In the hands of others, such an approach might result in a pedestrian
offering, but somehow Robert’s Routes has escaped that fate.

I think his instincts as a playwright came to his rescue. He
has cleverly presented his materials like in a slideshow, interspersing
intimate details of personal and family life with eye-witness accounts from public
life such as Lee Kuan Yew breaking down on TV when announcing the separation of
Singapore from Malaysia.

By interspersing his prose liberally with excerpts from his
poems or letters sent to or received from family and friends, and selections
from press reports on several of his literary offerings, he has managed to vary
the contents to the extent of sustaining interest.

Every chapter is preceded by two quotes, from a variety of
sources including hit songs; some of them do help to set the mood, but some of
them, I suspect, have been put up as embellishments.

I wish Robert had given more emphasis in his account to his
literary works. Still, the inclusion of excerpts from some of his poems and his
efforts to put them in context, have to a large extent added spice to the book.

It is like adding ‘’sambal
belachan’’ (dried shrimp-based chilli paste) to complement Malay dishes
that has the effect of making even ordinary fare much more mouth-watering.

Overall, I find Routes interesting enough to be able to
plough through from beginning to end without any hardship, but somehow at the
end I find myself not fully satiated, like having a meal minus the dessert and
coffee. So I hope Robert will come up with a sequel.

I think I first met him in 1973 at the bar in Pantai
Valley’s Guild House, possibly through one of my female colleagues in the New
Nation paper to whom Robert was at that time, to borrow a word from Bukit Timah
campus days, ‘’smelling’’.

I can still remember the hint of glee at which she
subsequently confided in me of the attention being showered on her by an ‘’up-and-coming’’
poet.

I am only three years younger than Robert and for people like
me reading Routes is like taking a walk down memory lane, meeting a number of
old friends whom I have lost touch with, such as Dudley de Souza, former NN
education Correspondent, whose accounts of reporting life in NN fuelled my
interest and perhaps pushed me on to the journalistic path, and Chandran Nair,
former head of Times Books International, to whom I still remember with much
affection as the man responsible for turning me into an author in 1979 with the
publication of -  Race, Politics and
Moderation  A Study of the Malaysian
Electoral Process.

To the younger generation of readers, they may possibly be
regaled by his accounts of boyhood life playing with tops and marbles and
catching fishes and spiders, and have their eyes opened by his references to the
days when the PAP ruled Singapore with knuckle dusters, and students wishing to
go for further studies needed to apply for a suitability certificate.

In a book that is almost technically perfect, I spotted without
any effort a number of little slips such as a few instances of repetition in
almost identical sentences like, for instance, having to queue to go to the jamban (Malay word for toilet).

On two trivial matters, I hope I will be forgiven for
nitpicking. The first is that the red-light terrace houses along the infamous
Desker Road are not single but double-storeyed, and the second is that the
difference between male and female spiders lies in the shape of their bodies
and not in the length of their limbs.

With about a hundred illustrations and a nice cover to boot,
Routes will attract even the casual reader to run through its pages and maybe,
like me, get drawn to read from cover to cover.

I hope that more Singaporeans especially those from the
literary and arts circles will be inspired by Routes to come out with their own
accounts of life in Singapore.

Ismail Kassim

24^th August 2011

I regard next month’s presidential race as Round Two of the fight between the PAP and the people. The outcome will determine the character of the nation in the next decade or two.

By the people, I mean the average Ah Beng, Raju and Ali, whose welfare has been sidelined by the government’s current obsession with achieving fast economic growth at any price.

They are the collateral damage that Singapore has to pay for its unabashed embrace of globalization and western capitalism, with all their attendant evils.

By the PAP, I mean the ruling party and its many supporters from the bureaucratic and business elites and all those who have benefitted immensely from its rule.

After the electoral setback in the May polls, the PAP promised to review its policies and be more attentive to the needs of the average Singaporean.

I am sure PM Lee means well, but the problem is that it is never easy to change a course that has been followed so zealously for so many years. So far, I can only hear PR grunts in the right direction, but nothing substantive has emerged.

Change and reforms can only come under relentless pressure. Just look around the region and you can see how difficult it is for any ruling party to pursue reforms because of entrenched interests.

Malaysia’s Umno only talks about reforms, but lacks the will to follow-up, while in the Philippines the modern-day feudal lords still hold sway over the people. In Thailand and Indonesia the traditional elites still call the tune, while the poor remain poor.

In Singapore, what is at stake is not just cutting ministerial salaries by 10 or 20 percent and relieving the terrific jams at bus stands and MRT stations during peak hours.

What we also want include:

# Equitable growth that benefits all sectors and classes in Singapore;

# Respect for human and civil rights of all citizens;

# Stop abuses of power especially against the opposition; and

# Meritocracy and equality of opportunities extended to all sectors and for all Singaporeans regardless of race, language or religion.

In short, the fight is over the soul of Singapore. What kind of Singapore do we want to see in a decade or two? Something like Mumbai, Moscow, or Los Angeles?

I still remember years ago the callous manner in which LKY dismissed the widening income gap as a world-wide phenomenon, the inevitable consequence of globalization, and that there was nothing much that any government could do.

The question that I have often asked myself is: Why is the PAP so obsessed with high rates of growth to the extent that it was willing to open the flood gates to anyone with the money or the desired skill or the right ethnicity to come in?

My guess is that it arises from the almost pathological insecurities of the PAP inner circle to what they consider as geopolitical realities.

The fact is that not a single shot has been fired in anger in the last half century since independence. Over the same period, bilateral ties have remained steady despite occasional hiccups and regional cooperation in Asean has made tremendous strides.

Yet, the paranoia towards our neighbours remains undiluted, and of course, the Singapore Malay minority has been made to pay a price.

Even having the strongest military force in the region (at least on paper) has apparently not mitigated the PAP anxieties.

Hence, the reckless decision to pump for faster and faster growth and to internationalize the island by getting as many foreigners as possible to come on board as citizens and PRs so that the whole wide world will rise up in defense of Singapore should any existential threat arises.

To the PAP, this is the only way to ensure that our little red dot will last over the next millennium. I suppose this is the equivalent of giving a farewell present to the founding father when he passes away from the scene.

In Round One, the score was 60% for the PAP and 40% for the people, who were represented by the various opposition political parties.

The results of the president’s race will underline how strongly the electorate wants the government to change its policy goals.

Ideally, we should elect the candidate who most sympathizes with the aspirations of the people.

From the current aspirants, it is not difficult to find out who among them has consistently struggled for the working class in his role as a PAP backbencher.

And we also know, despite all his protestations of independence, the candidate who is the proxy of the PAP. He might have been a good banker, but certainly not a good bangsawan (Malay opera) actor.

As a fallback measure, it does not matter how many candidates are taking part, who are they, and also who eventually wins the top post.

What is important is to ensure that the candidate who represents the PAP’s choice does not win more than 60% of the votes.

This will send a clear signal to the PAP leaders that Singaporeans want change and reform at all costs.

So friends and fellow Singaporeans, don’t forget to keep up the pressure.

Ismail Kassim

18 July2011

I have no doubt you have the qualifications to become president of our tiny Republic, but I think it is too soon for you to run for the post.

Just over a month ago, you were rejected by the voters of Aljunied GRC. Instead of aspiring for the presidency, you ought to focus on how to wipe away the stigma of defeat and redeem your honour by selfless public service, such as pushing for reforms that will benefit the average Singaporean.

What happened? One month ago you said you were a free-spirit and not suited for that high office and then practically overnight you think you are eminently qualified for the most prestigious job in the land.

Even with the backing of the PAP government, which I am sure has already endorsed your candidacy victory is still not a certainty.

You might still smile after one defeat; two in a row might be a little traumatic.

Even if you win, the victory might not do much to salvage your reputation. Just imagine the headlines from our neighbouring press: Rejected in Aljunied, but welcome to the Istana or Defeated PAP leader becomes the next President.

This will leave a bad taste in the mouth for years.

In Singapore, with your background of years of loyal service to the PAP, how much respect do you think you will get from the average Singaporean? Do you think you have what it takes to do a better job than the late Ong Teng Cheong?

To be regarded as a People’s president – as opposed to being a PAP president – is something that you have to earn the hard way; you may need to reinvent yourself, and be brave, and prove yourself first on the reform front, before you can win the trust of all Singaporeans.

You may learn something by looking at Lee Hsien Loong: He waited patiently for 14 long years as deputy PM before assuming the top job, and when he did, he had the near unanimous support of the people. If he had been impatient, he would not have reaped such goodwill from the populace.

No doubt, if you contest for President in August as I think you will, it will be good for the PAP. But, will it be good for Singapore? More important, will it be good for you?

So George, think again. Five years down the road might be a more auspicious time for you to vie for the top job.

Ismail Kassim
8 June 2011

Dear PM 

Without the shadow of both MM and SM hovering over you, I think it will be easier for you to make a fresh start to remake Singapore in your image.

No doubt, your immediate priority will be on re-engaging with the younger generation, maintaining economic growth and improving the welfare of all Singaporeans, particularly the poorer sections of our society.

But I like to urge you also to take a fresh look at a problem that has festered like an open wound since independence 46 years ago.

I refer to the ambivalence of the PAP towards the Malay minority; on one hand, I believe, it sincerely wants to build a harmonious and progressive multiracial nation but on the other hand, it continues to harbour distrust against the community and restrict its members from participating in National Service and the security services.

Almost every Malay male from my generation onwards has a personal tale or two to tell of their unhappy experiences while in uniform. Many did not even have the opportunity of putting on a uniform.

As a former Brigadier General, I am sure you know the situation better than me and there is no need for me to elaborate, except to say that the time has come for a fresh start.

Many Malays have still not forgotten that in Aug 09 MM said in Parliament that Malays should not expect ‘’equal treatment’’ anytime soon as the Singapore Pledge on equality for all was only an ‘’aspiration’’ and not an ‘’ideology’’ and therefore it would take a long time to realize.

Just close your eyes and imagine for one moment what it feels like to be a Malay in Singapore.

If I have a son and he turns 18 years old today, he is likely to be held at arms’ length in the name of national security because of his name and religion.

But the son of any new immigrant from Timbuktu or Shenyang or Ulan Bator or Burunkundu will be warmly embraced and treated on equal terms with their Chinese, Indian and Eurasian peers.

Aside from having deep roots here over several generations, I have also paid my dues and made my little teeny mini contribution to the nation. Does it make any sense?

I know many Singaporeans including Malays prefer to ‘’close their eyes and shut their ears’’ on this issue, thinking that by burying it under the carpet, it will over time magically go away.

The problem with MM is that his undoubtedly unpleasant experiences at the hands of the Umno ultras impelled him to unjustifiably regard our little red dot as the Israel of the Malay world.

This is MM’s baggage that he has carried with him for almost half a century from the time when Singapore was in Malaysia. It is time you jettisoned it.

You must agree that events at home and the region since independence in 1965 do not warrant the extreme extent that Malays had been marginalized in the island’s defence and security services.

The vast majority of Malays are loyal and patriotic. They want nothing more than just to be treated equally like any other Singapore citizen.

The challenge for you now is how to make the Singapore Pledge a living reality by reconciling the Malay yearning for full equality with the PAP obsession on maintaining Chinese dominance and security.

In my No Hard Feelings memoir published in 08, I said that SM was not a seat warmer, but a system warmer because he preserved the system that he inherited and kept it in good order – after tweaking a little here and there – before passing it to you.

‘’Yes, Singapore continued to grow. So did the salaries of ministers and members of Parliament and the gap between the rich and the poor, while the curbs on political freedom remain intact,’’ I added.

I then asked whether you too would want to be a system warmer.

I am glad that you have decided otherwise, judging from the way you have conducted yourself in the recent general election, which, I would say is the cleanest and fairest polls fought by the PAP since independence.

At least, I know no opposition leader will be bankrupted or hounded out of the island.

 I hope you will keep up the momentum of change for a better Singapore where all irrespective of race, religion or social class can have a place under its immense shade.

 If there is any PAP leader who can right the wrong to the Malays, it is you.

 I have confidence in you because I have been reliably told that you have been meditating daily for years.

 Anyone who walks the path of meditation, and believes in the power of the qi and absorbs its benefits, will acquire a tremendous empathy for the ordinary man and the underdog and a deep sense of fair-play.   

Seize the moment. History is watching.

Ismail Kassim

17 May 2011

I am already 68 years old and not in the best of health, but fortunately I have enough to live on in relative comfort to my dying days.

The same cannot be said of some of my fellow Singaporeans. I see aunties and uncles, much older and in worse physical condition than me, working long hours for pittance or rifling through rubbish bins, to keep body and soul together.

My heart goes out to them. They are the unfortunate victims of neglect by a government which has put profits of government bodies before the welfare of its people. All this is done in the name of globalization and the unabashed pursuit of growth which has made the rich richer and the poor poorer.

I never expected that the PAP could over the last five decades gradually become associated with arrogance, intolerance and callousness.

In the 46 years since Singapore’s independence which, on request, was conferred on a silver platter, I exercised my right to vote only twice.

The PAP’s obsession with retaining its political monopoly in Parliament led to a raft of measures to modify the electoral system and indirectly depriving many of its citizens their right to vote.

I have almost given up hope of seeing an end to such tyranny in my lifetime.

Since nomination on April 27, however, a sliver of hope has unexpectedly emerged. In many constituencies, members of the younger generation have emerged to battle against the PAP in David versus Goliath-like contests. I am humbled by their courage, by their refusal to be intimidated.

I can sense the stirring in the air. I can feel the undercurrents swirling among the poor, the disadvantaged groups, the social minorities and among the legions of people unjustly treated by the PAP that are too numerous to relate here.

This is something new; this yearning for change, for a new beginning, a new Singapore. The spirit of JBJ lives on. I have never felt it before and I am getting excited.    

Even Baby God has heard of the rumblings and quickly apologized for the shortcomings of his government, but I think it is a bit ‘’too little, too late,’’ or as the Malays would put it: ‘’Nasi sudah jadi bubur’’ (the rice has turned to porridge)

My friends and fellow citizens, I do not know what you all are going to do tomorrow, May 7. But I know what I have to do.

I will join Nicole and her valiant knights from the NSP to face Goliath Goh in his lair in Marine Parade. Even if I could just manage to pull the Goliath’s ears once, I would be satisfied.

The ripples from the Middle East earthquake is about to reach our shores. Brace yourself for the tsunami that will unfold. Stand up and be counted.

Years later, your son or daughter might one day out of the blue ask you:

‘’Daddy, where were you on that historic May 7 day when Singaporeans from all corners rose together as one to cut down the PAP to size?

‘’Did you also join in to bang the head of the aging Father God to make him REPENT for all his past sins?’’

Ismail Kassim

6 May 2011

Last month I had lunch with a friend turned PAP leader.  Halfway through the meal, my host asked me what had changed in Singapore politics.

I said: Ten years ago most Singaporeans regarded the PAP favourably. The chief concern was the need to have opposition in Parliament to check on the PAP.

The issue today is different. Many Singaporeans have begun to question whether the PAP is still a good party. Is it still working for the interests of the people?

This is a big, fundamental shift in voter perception. 

I returned yesterday after a one week visit to Hong Kong, my second in three months.

While I was there, it struck me that Hong Kong – even without LKY, PAP, ISA, et cetera – is ahead of Singapore on many fronts.

Aside from the grandeur of its giant shopping malls and the constant oomph and buzz, everything runs like clockwork. The public transport system is first class.

There is more press freedom, more human rights and the right to dissent. I even saw a peaceful demonstration in support of a dissident artist detained by Beijing.

In Singapore, with all the restrictions and with the most brilliant leaders in charge, yet the shortcomings from flooding to overcrowding in public transport have become glaring.

On one recent occasion, several migrant workers in a sardine-packed SBS bus that I happened to be in were moved to laughter, derisively likening their experience to a bus ride in a third world country.

Yet Hong Kong leaders never glorified their capabilities or their paper qualifications or demand their pound-of-flesh for their public service. 

No Hard Feelings.

Ismail Kassim

28 April 2011

It was simply billed as a musical qigong to be hosted by Qigong Master Xie Li and retired international pianist Tedd Joselson on the morning of Sunday 27 Feb at the upmarket 28 Scotts condominium.

Although it was a quiet affair attended by just about 45 participants, mostly Qigong practitioners, the event marked the first, tentative step by Xie Li to experiment on the power of the Qi beyond its traditional confines of health care.

It was a bold and novel idea that no Qigong master anywhere in the world has ever thought of.  

Said Xie Li: “No one has tried to do this before. This is the first experiment to test the impact of external Qi on the music, the musician and the audience. I want to bring the goodness of Qi to everyone.’’

Indeed, the significance of the event was not lost on anyone present.

The event had brought together two contrasting figures from opposite ends of the world, both masters of their respective art form.

At the end of the almost one hour session, there was a unanimous roar of acclamation from the participants whose ranks included a couple of Caucasians, intrigued by the idea of how Qi could enhance the prowess of the pianist and at the same time enriched the musical appreciation of the audience.

“Fascinating, amazing, to see the vibrations and the reactions from the audience. I have never done anything like this before. This is really interesting. I hope that it will continue,” said Tedd, who lives in Singapore after retiring from the international piano circuit.

Xie Li who is better known as Shifu by his legions of followers said in his introductory remarks that his aim was to marry the healing powers of the of Qi with the tremendous therapeutic effects of music.    

At the start, he first energized the audience, then the room, the piano and last of all, the pianist, through a process described as transmitting external Qi.

Most of those present had what is described in Qigong circles as spontaneous reactions such as swaying and shaking their limbs in various ways as they received his Qi.

Even Tedd was moved to fluttering his fingers, then locking his hands and swaying them over and upwards, moving his body in rhythm with the incoming Qi.

Immediately after that, the maestro started playing on his piano two short pieces from Chopin and one from Schubert.

For the first, the audience sat on their chairs and then stood up to listen to the other two. Many also adopted Qigong postures as if they were practicing with the Master.

Most of those present were in raptures. One said: “I felt tremendous power,” while another added: “Really wonderful, full of Qi.” Everyone felt privileged to have been both a participant and an eyewitness to an unprecedented event.

As for myself, with eyes closed and hands held in front of my chest Qigong-style, I felt the exhilaration as the Qi and the music swirled seamlessly but powerfully, around and around and around me.

Until that morning, I had never been so moved by listening to a musical recital.

The Chinese have over the last 5000 years believed in the existence of the Qi – a form of invisible electromagnetic energy – which not only pervades the entire universe but also exists in every living and nonliving things.

Years ago the Shifu had used his Qi to cure Tedd of a debilitating disease that threatened not only to end his piano-playing days, but also his life.

On the morning of 27^th Feb they came together for the first time to test whether Qi and music could mutually interact for the benefit of both Qigong practitioners and music lovers.  

The Master still runs his Qigong clinic at West Coast Road and leads Qigong practice twice a week for Xie Li Qigong members at the UE Square.

Ismail Kassim

3 March 2011

Ismail  been practising Qigong under Master Xie Li for the last 20 months.