by Ho Chi Tim

I’ve always loved stories. This one is mine.

I started young with History, chancing upon the standard secondary-level history texts – Social and Economic History of Modern Singapore (Two Volumes – 1984) – in my nanny’s home while in primary school.

So I began reading about the founding of Singapore in 1819 by Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles. Having very quickly decided that the socio-economic development portions were rather boring, I bicycled ahead to the Japanese invasion of Malaya and Singapore during World War II. After again skipping the dreary bits on post-war constitutional development, I stopped with Separation and Independence in 1965 – (and yes, again skipping the dull bits on post-independence socio-economic development).

Looking back, history education in secondary school and junior college was more of an accumulation of historical content, rather than actually knowing history, for me at least. I learned about the ancient civilisations of Mesopotamia and Egypt; how Kings Mongkut and Chulalongkorn safeguarded Siam from colonialism; and how Qing China failed to stem the colonial tide in the late nineteenth century. History was a simple but useful cause-and-effect narrative of events and key personalities, i.e. gripping plots with well-defined heroes and villains, and sometimes with a moral tale to impart.

As an undergraduate, I slowly began (with considerable instruction from various professors) to dissect the conventional moralistic narratives and observe how historical events can have a more than linear impact on society at large. But overall, the “Big Picture” and sometime “Definitive” histories still captured my attention.

Until I started work. The daily bureaucratic grind of the civil service re-focused, perhaps even narrowed, my perceptions of (specifically) Singapore society, and the use of history in general. A few things stood out after two years supposedly as a policy officer.

First, there is a certain level of responsibility no matter how low we think our positions are. For instance, a delay in addressing an issue could result in it snowballing out of control, ending with chastened egos or worse, a member of public left hanging without good reason.

Similarly, the “Small Picture” stuff - the minute details, and ground opinions – may not be integral in those final decisions. However, they still crucially influence how the “Big Picture” would be formed, how stories could be told.

Second, there seems to be scant recognition of this responsibility amongst people making policies and decisions for the rest of society. To be fair, other factors also come forcefully into play when one enters working life, i.e. bread-and-butter issues, career considerations, family concerns etc.

But surely, one can expect just that little bit more passion and humility from those who are deemed capable and intelligent enough to govern the country.

Third, and after sitting through a young (relatively) minister’s rather self-serving observations on Singapore’s past, it is possible that this scant recognition is partly caused by the weight of a historical burden. In particular, the idea that Singapore barely survived after Separation and that was due to a very special group of people. Therefore, only a certain calibre of people would be able to continue ensuring its survival, and all must strive to keep the country afloat.

In other words, if you weren’t at the top, you had no business being interested in decisions.

It is the unquestioning acceptance of this historical burden (perpetuated through repeated discourses of vulnerability and survival) which causes complacency and intellectual inertia. In our blind acceptance, we are unable to convince ourselves and others that there are societal issues worth thinking about and fighting for. Or we take the stand that it is unnecessary to be concerned about matters, as they are already taken care of by organisations and institutions supposedly more capable and qualified.

So, I came away with the idea that for those of us who are fortunate enough to attain higher degrees of education; who society directly or indirectly supports and hence expects to lead, not just politically or economically, but also socially and intellectually - then this group should also bear certain responsibilities to themselves and to the society they participate in, whether as working professionals or concerned citizens.

Now, as a post-grad student trying to re-discover the relevance of history in a society unnecessarily burdened by its past as its gaze is fixated on unending progress, I discover that history has either been reduced to a passionless re-enactment for profit, or (at some tertiary levels) a robotic exercise of name-dropping and undiscerning regurgitation of established historical principles and methods.

Not using our knowledge for the better of society is perhaps the ultimate shirking of responsibilities by people fortunate enough to have higher education. If we, professional or budding historians, should shirk our responsibilities, we lose history’s biggest contribution to society. History is not just learning about or from the past, but also the thinking and discussion of how we understand and approach past. By doing so, we critically engage the present and participate better in society.

How we approach and think about history says plenty about our immediate surroundings and conditions, and our perceptions of both past and present. Hence, we could start to look for our own individual reference points to question the past, rather than follow in the footprints of a well-trodden historical landscape.

What are your individual motives in pursuing a certain question; why do we make certain choices and not others; how does our background come into play in shaping our thoughts and convictions – in short, what makes us think about and use history the way we do?

This is where Citizen Historian (hopefully) can create a space for discussing history, its subtle intricacies and our individual approaches to it.

We are interested in the little bits forming the “Big Picture”, in the process of thinking, researching and writing history, and not so much the final product, which more often than not does not tell the whole story. We want your raw ideas, neglected opinions, lost arguments, forgotten memories, rejected proposals, because they form part of your thought process in reaching that final article, paper or book.

In doing so, in discussing our relationship with the past, and how and why we question the past, we can hopefully learn more about the present and decide how we choose to live it.

The author is currently a Masters candidate at the Department of History, National University of Singapore.

Tags: Role of history, singapore history, telling stories

This entry was posted on Tuesday, May 29th, 2007 at 4:04 pm and is filed under Editorial. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.