Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: TUESDAY, April 26, 1994 TAG: 9404270006
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A5 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: MARK RUSH
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
To the crime for which Fay was sentenced, a week-long spree of spray-painting cars, anyone who has spent any time on a major American city's subway has probably grown accustomed. So why does Singapore have such stringent criminal sanctions for such minor acts? Are the critics upset because Singaporeans have decided simply to deem this sort of vandalism intolerable or because they mandate punishment for it - or both?
Oddly, in American culture, which manages to accommodate charming folks such as the Menendez brothers, the Bobbits and any number of folks who were involved in the Los Angeles riots, there no longer seems any room for making the sort of moral judgment exhibited by Singapore. In order to sustain our preservation of tolerance, we slip closer and closer to nihilism, and therefore refuse to judge the actions of our own citizens while sanctimoniously passing judgment on the citizens and governments of other countries.
The inconsistency is perhaps no more manifest than in the press's treatment of the Asian nation. While trumpeting the most peculiar aspects of Singaporean law, the press has ignored the benefits that its stringent criminal code has fostered. Chewing gum is a controlled substance in Singapore because authorities do not wish to have it jamming subway doors, and too much littering will get you a reserved seat in the state-sponsored class on maintaining the environment. As well, on "20/20" a few months ago, Singapore's installation of urine sensors in public elevators and the establishment of a government office to monitor all 10,000 public elevators was presented as a bizarre manifestation of authoritarianism.
Such laws may appear silly to Americans. On the other hand, if Singapore has decided that chewing gum and relieving oneself in public elevators are nuisances worthy of criminal punishment, on what basis does America -where drivers of air-polluting automobiles seek to ban smoking because of its deleterious effect on the environment and peoples' lungs - condemn the Asian nation?
On the one hand, Singapore certainly offers itself as the butt of harsh criticism and dark humor for a Western nation such as America, which celebrates Thoreauvian conscientious objection and civil disobedience. For Americans who ponder Singapore, civil disobedience takes on a whole new meaning: One can only imagine what Thoreau and 10,000 of his conscientiously objecting buddies could do if, with full bladders, they all attacked Singapore's elevators - at the same time. The nation might grind to a halt. Imagine the criminal records of un-potty-trained children.
More serious criticisms compare Singaporean caning and public humiliation of criminals to the likes of authoritarian regimes past and present whose grizzliest human-rights stories scare even the most stringent law-and-order advocate. Yet for every example of other countries' brutality towards criminals, there is an example of the American government's insensitivity toward "average citizens" who are afraid to walk the streets, and who do not feel secure in their homes because our criminal-justice system fails to deter malefactors.
In our tradition of celebrating individual liberties and freedom from governmental restraints, we Americans seem to have forgotten that the government is the manifestation and creation of all those individuals who depend upon it. As a result, we fail to see that our mistrust of government is, in fact, a reflection of a mistrust of ourselves. Insofar as we limit the government's ability to punish criminals, we betray our own fear of making moral judgments and adhering to principles, and end up "blaming victims" as quickly as we fail to punish their assailants.
Singapore apparently doesn't have this problem. There, the people trust their government to enforce such strict rules, and their governors are their fellow men and women. Singaporeans do not fear caning perhaps because your average Singaporean could not imagine going off on a vandalism spree such as Fay's precisely because the average Singaporean seems able to decide that, on balance, such behavior is simply intolerable and unjustifiable.
Is America so bereft of any moral sense that the average citizen cannot sit back and decide that vandalism such as Fay's (or littering, urinating in public elevators, jaywalking, rape, drug-dealing or murdering) is simply not to be tolerated and should be met with swift punishment? Is the malignance in such behavior not self-evident? There was a time in America when truths were sufficiently self-evident to inspire us to rebel against the British king. Has our moral sense deteriorated to such an extent that we now live by a doctrine of tolerance that borders on nihilism?
So it would seem. However, while the reaction of the press and various political leaders would suggest that America has become morally numb and bereft of any sense of propriety, the response of Fay's own neighbors to his fate indicates that the notion of individual rights may not be as unrestrained - and the notion of what is appropriate, as well as cruel and unusual, punishment may not be as narrow - as that which has been trumpeted by the press in reaction to Fay's sentence.
While the press lamented Singapore's resolute reaction to Fay's vandalism, Fay's neighbors called his congressman's office in support of his punishment. If Fay's own neighbors appreciate the courage of Singapore's convictions, why does the press fail to do so? Is it possible that the press is out of touch with the audience whose right to know it so frequently defends? Perhaps it is time for the press to listen to those whom it claims to represent and to whom it preaches.
Singapore has decided that the government owes more to those citizens who abide by the rules than to those who break them. Obviously, there are costs to this attitude as there are to any decision concerning how to enforce laws and balance individual and collective rights. In Singapore, the streets are clean, and people are safe and secure from assault, robbery, rape - and vandalism. The cost of this safety is quick and severe punishment for those who seek to breach the security of others, and a more restricted notion of freedom than Americans are accustomed to.
By contrast, in America - land of the free - there is no real freedom from assault or armed robbery, no freedom to send one's children to public school without fearing for their safety, no freedom to leave one's urban home without fear of assault or rape. While America has chosen to grieve for the criminal, Singapore seeks to ensure that there will be no victims by protecting the citizens' human rights to be secure.
Had Fay been caught spray-painting cars in his hometown of Dayton, his crime would have been regarded as commonplace and his neighbors' opinions would not have mattered. But since another country has chosen to meet his misbehavior with punishment, those who must put up with the Michael Fays of America have been given a brief moment to express themselves in a forum where their rights to live in security might also be taken seriously. Perhaps in the future, more of us will be willing to speak out, and the press - as well as our political leaders - will be willing to listen.
Mark Rush is assistant professor of politics at Washington and Lee University in Lexington.
by CNB