The Brutus that was the Temasek Review

Owen Tan

Temasek Review's readership has exploded ahead of General Election.

Temasek Review's readership has exploded ahead of General Election.

Pictures of one of the latest and most infamous candidates announced by the People’s Action Party (PAP), Tin Pei Ling, are the first thing I recall when news broke out of the impending closure of Temasek Review (TR). In all her photos, save for the one in her “white-in-white” PAP uniform, she is smiling. In the first few she has her arm around the shoulder of a slightly overbuilt individual. Then, in subsequent ones, she is smiling, but this time with her husband, apparently on her honeymoon.

These photographs have absolutely nothing to do with her career, and seem unlikely to have been released to the public by Ms Tin’s consent. And in the accompanying article where the photos were taken, an incredible insinuation that the overbuilt man was her former partner was dumped by Ms Tin for a man who brought her closer to her power-hungry ambitions. These accusations – surely a monstrous exaggeration, if not as far from the truth as you can possibly get – seem only possible to have been conjured up by an irresponsible, and immoral tabloid writer, if we include the fact that the photographs were almost surely illegally retrieved.

This article perhaps epitomises the state of TR at the time of its announcement that it was to close, due to a lack of funding and a lack of vision about its future. Amanda Tan, part of the editorial team for TR, stated in an interview with Yahoo! that the goal of TR was to “help cultivate political awareness among fellow Singaporeans”.

TR was not built as a news site, unlike The Online Citizen, a rival website that arguably produces more eloquent and balanced pieces. The site never promised concrete truth to its readers. While political awareness was certainly on the agenda, the site spiralled from its original mission into a quagmire of confused, angry, and poorly written pieces that made the site more of a paradise for complainers.

Just reading some older pieces will prove my point: A newly-minted Singapore citizen from China goes to the National Day Parade and is unhappy about his being made to sing the National Anthem; comments about the personal lives of politicians; and vitriolic comments about the profligacy of the PAP, mostly in acronyms and broken English, constitute TR.

TR reminds me a little of Brutus in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, a man who had noble ambitions at the beginning but ultimately got much more on his plate than he asked for. The community of awareness that TR hoped to become eventually took on a life of its own, complete with dissidence and gossip that were virtually unregulated. (Coincidentally, Brutus also reached his demise in somewhat similar circumstances – dying by his own sword.)

Is Brutus really dead?

Would Brutus, however, fake his own death? The announcement made to Yahoo! certainly appears to legitimise the fact that TR is truly closing down, though some NAR readers wonder if it is yet another “infamous attention-grabbing stunt”, especially in view of the upcoming elections.

“There might be more forces to [the closure] than meets the eye,” said one reader on NAR’s Facebook wall.

What TR means to the community

But whether there is a conspiracy or not, and despite my reservations about TR, their closure is a pity and will be a major loss to the online Singaporean community. It is a website much maligned because its strength – acting like a real Speakers’ Corner, for all Singaporeans – is often ignored for its weakness: the tendency to attract noise from empty vessels. The openness of TR makes it easy for people who do not actually have a good opinion (or are unable to articulate it) to publish themselves, as it does for people who do.

More importantly, TR and the local, official news media stand at two ends of the press freedom continuum: the latter is expected, under the majority shareholding by government, to provide incumbent-friendly information to its citizens. The former, meanwhile, makes the most of the unregulated nature of the Internet to give us an inkling of this concept called freedom of information.

The demise of TR will mean that the online community will once again have to find another definition of what liberal public discourse is. TR is a symbol on its own, almost like a synonym for liberal, democratic exchange of words. TR will be missed, because thus far, despite the birth of several new online news sites including this one, none of them have gone – or intend to go – quite as far as TR in its approach to its anarchist openness.