The Possum Bistro

Imperfect past makes present tense in The Campaign to Confer the Public Service Star on JBJ.

Frankly, I just can't seem to resist tattling out the entire title of the play that we just watched on Tuesday night! It deserves to be recognised and publicised through word of mouth (or through the blogosphere) for its brilliance in execution and for instigating critical thinking about the state of politics in Singapore. I won't pretend to understand every single aspect of the film that the friendly, feisty Pam Oei and Rodney Oliveiro (whom I last saw in Spin on Ch5, acting as the resident guitar-jamming bad boy) fleshed out so vividly in the 2-hour production - it is thought-provoking, intense, reflective with a modicum of pessimism injected into for good measure.

Bureaucracy

Rodney had rhetorically quoted Shakespeare and asked, "What's in a name?" True enough, this theme of 'names', or rather the blatant obfuscation of connotations related to these names, resonated throughout the play. Titles such as DSP, 2DS and PPS with which the characters address each other - the formalistic, civil conversations and mood of the scenes betray the kind of stifling, rigid bureaucratic mechanisms that make up the essence of how exactly this country is run by the government. Typical accusations of alienation and impersonal detachment that are associated with too efficient a bureaucracy come to mind - indeed, that formed wellsprings of discontent in Singapore's electoral history, when the PAP witnessed swings of support.

The 'other JBJ'

A contentious issue kept cropping up in discussions post-play: did another JBJ - supposedly non-political and uncontroversial - exist in the reality of the play? David Lee referred to this 'other JBJ', which deflected a fair share of concerns away from those who were worried that if they would be compromised should they acknowledge any association with the real JBJ. Yet it seems that all the characters were quick to resort to acknowledging the existence of this 'other JBJ', as if this person was just as well-known and prominent as the real JBJ.

The supposition is this: that 'the other JBJ' is referring to the JBJ, except that the usage of 'the other JBJ' is merely a tactic to avoid compromising oneself should Big Brother be surveiling. To put it simply, 'the other JBJ' is merely a legal fiction that common citizens choose to believe (implicit in the common understanding is that there is no other JBJ) in order to escape being complicitly involved with JBJ himself. Reiterating Shakespeare's maxim, "What's in a name?"

'The other JBJ' refers to the JBJ - perhaps one could perceive it as a facetious, misguided attempt to separate the political JBJ from the citizen JBJ, but the reality is that both are inseparable and part of one man. Which is eerily reflective of the state of Singapore's civic arena: everything is politics - there is no separation between the civic and the civil. A person who criticises the political system had best be prepared to defend his stand because the very act of criticism conveys a desire to wield power as a citizen and change politics. And that does not escape the attention of the political powers.

It could be further reasoned that the characters - by constantly upkeeping this myth of 'the other JBJ' - are exercising self-censorship on themselves, as displayed by the numerous rejections that the protagonist met with as he tried his best to find backers for his campaign. David realises that he needs to play this game of deliberate obfuscation to get through channels - thereby adopting the myth of 'the other JBJ' - and not be perceived as someone out to create trouble. Another perspective is that this exercise in 'negative-naming' is an ingenious mechanism within which to conduct discussions about controversial political issues between citizens, hence implying that it is actually a tool of civil society.

The Other, JBJ. Would that not be possible as well? What's in a name, really?

Clara Tang (and her father)

Clara is obviously in the throes of a conundrum - attempting to balance between doing her job as a civil servant of the bureaucracy and doing what's 'right'. As a product of the system in Singapore, she finds it difficult to abandon gratitude for the people who have gifted her with this track to material success. She finds out that she, too, cannot escape from this tried-and-tested route to career advancement that her own father has also taken. Her father is presumably a high-ranking civil servant who took this route, followed all protocol without questions - basically, fulfilling the criteria for a candidate of Max Weber's ideal bureaucracy: dispassionate, rational, efficient and respectful of rules.

Why do various characters such as the DSP and PPS refer to her father by asking if he still plays golf, or if he holds a handicap? Isn't 'golf' a luxury for the wealthy? Does that not hint at the monetary benefits enjoyed by the father, therefore reinforcing the attractiveness of the iron rice bowl of the civil service?

Phillip T

Only Phillip speaks of Clara's father in a wry, sarcastic tone: "Still an uncompromising bastard?" This hints at Phillip's possible disgust for Clara's father's unyielding conformity to the dictates of the bureaucracy. Phillip's sense of righteousness as editor of a newspaper to uphold the truth is manifested in his desire to uncover the so-called 'conspiracy' that he suspects is being engineered to cover up David's demise. He is portrayed as deeply skeptical of the government, and is more than enthusiastic in keeping the possibility of conspiracy alive through the press. When Clara advocates restraint - she believes that Phillip is allowing his skepticism of government to cloud his ethics - Phillip accuses her of selling her conscience and betraying her ideals. Hence, the animosity that culminates into a heated confrontation between the two, when Phillip loses his job and asks Clara if she's happy.

This tension between the two protagonists due to conflict of professional ethics has been simmering beneath the surface - contained for the sake of friendship, but more importantly for Clara, her selfish desire to fulfil her sexual needs with Phillip. As such, who can blame Phillip for feeling used and humiliated so that Clara can continue presenting herself as free from the torment of having to grapple with her conscience?

Eventually, it simply had to give, and Clara had her first silent intercourse with Phillip for a long, long time - literally and figuratively speaking.

Serving both ends

The closing scene reflects the exact message intended by the government in reality: seemingly edging towards acceptance of political reform yet fundamentally insistent on the maintenance of the status quo. By conferring the Public Service Star on David Lee and not on JBJ, Clara has taken a cautious step towards recognising the legitimacy, relevance and contribution of political figures who dared to oppose the government. The government, though grudging in condoning the act of conferring the Star, also sees it as beneficial to itself since it projects an openness to political reform.

Hence, the Man with the Iron Cane lambasts Clara for being naive in thinking that the idealism of her generation will bring about anything but utter ruin to the country - and Clara turns to face him at the end, disobeying his strict orders not to. It does redeem Clara in the eyes of the audience, and more importantly, it seems to hint at the reality that though civil society is forced to be evasive and self-obfuscatory, change is inevitable, no matter how gradual or seemingly insignificant. The very act of political commentary is motivated by a desire to change it.

Spliced with bits of humour, comic timing, daring antics and witty comebacks, Pam and Rodney deliver a solid piece of political commentary that forces us to consider the realities of the system: idealism versus pragmatism; is there place for morality and ethics in Singapore as defined by Western thought?; the supposedly neutral, non-political bureaucracy; innovations of civil activism that stem from the co-optation of civil society into civic society.

Imperfect past makes present tense. Indeed, the trappings of the past that still define the mindset of the political powers, and it will not be easily dismantled - not if they have their way with it.