A Tune on the Radio

I was sitting in my office the other day pretending to work while envisioning the beaches of Tahiti before a familiar tune on the Internet radio brought me back to reality.

“Count on me Singapore… … count on me Singapore… …”

My immediate response was a peculiar blend of mild astonishment and nonchalant disregard; a little like how you would feel if a friend pointed out that you had lint on your jacket. An inquisitive thought dawned upon me as I pondered to myself in a moment of self-enlightenment;

“National day oreadi meh?”

The 9th of August is a day you can easily overlook if you have lived, as I have, for more than eight years overseas. Even when I was living in Singapore, the significance of the 9th of August appeared nothing more than a day on the calendar which I did not have to attend school. That of course changed when I was serving in the army, because national day became a management project that yielded long hours and countless stay-ins so that your scholar-commanding officer may gain leverage for promotion. But then again, the 9th of August never received the same kind of brand recognition as say for instance, the 4th of July which we associate vividly with the red and white stripes.

So when I was asked to write an article on patriotism and Singapore, I realised immediately that the stringing of the two words in a coherent sentence by itself, presented a daunting challenge.

While most of us associate Singaporeans with efficiency, competitiveness and exquisite social grace, patriotism appears to be the last on our list of national core values. For instance, we are probably the only country where the majority of the citizens have no idea what the anthem is on about. Our commitment to the country is grounded on the recital of the national pledge so frequently in school that we can regurgitate the words with ease without ever having spent a moment to ponder its meaning.

Patriotism and Singaporeans appear go together like peas and Clorox.

Perhaps unlike the Americans, the emergence of the nation was not built on war and our military is not glamorised by glorified impressions on the big screen – think for instance, Sheikh Haikel in Army Daze. Our very young history does not command much grandeur compared to dynasties of ancient kings and royal lineage. Our story started with a lost Srivijaya prince who mistook a tiger for a lion and henceforth named the island based on a misconception (this really is a matter of personal opinion because lions are only found in India and Africa; our nation should have been named Haripore).

Despite a lack of splendour there is, however, pride in our historical development – a fairytale about how an island with no natural resources (save mosquitoes) advanced into a developed nation with one of the highest living standards in the world. Over forty-one years on national day, we are timely reminded of our achievement, or otherwise as Dr Chee put it, the achievement of one man and his party.

In a society of meritocracy however, one forgets very quickly about the past, and anticipates in keen earnest of what future the nation has installed for him or her. As so candidly portrayed in a recent televised forum with MM Lee, the mindset of the third generation is less concerned with ‘what you have done for us’ and more of ‘what else can you do for us’. If this is true, patriotism then becomes a conflicting notion when matched against personal agenda.

The talk about patriotism is hardly relevant. For one thing, I feel it is too Americanised a concept that entails stars and striped underwear and unacquainted cries for freedom.

Behind the cynicism, scepticism and perpetual grumble against price hikes and high transportation costs, there is love that resides within the blood of a Singaporean. As we rail against the restrictions to our lives back home, we find ourselves defending the same interest when being questioned by a foreigner. While the boys whine about the time lost in NS, you see pride in their eyes when they share stories of character building when they served their nation. Though I forget sometimes what the 9th of August really means, the tune on the radio that day brought back fond memories of my family and how we would sit together on national days waiting in anticipation for the fireworks.

Singapore is after all, a place where I grew up, where I made friends and a place which has kept my family safe. It has given me an identity, as evident when I count ‘one, two, tree, instead of three’, and despite my proclivity for nitpicking its political, socio-cultural and economical landscape, Singapore remains a place where home is.

So I sat there in my office as the tune played over the Internet, I logged onto Straits Times to see what message our Prime Minster has for us this year. I then looked around to make sure there was no one else in the office. Perhaps I was just trying to kill time or maybe I did not want the moment go to waste, I found myself singing along to the rest of the chorus.