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Independent Thinking Is Now Welcome in Singapore. But Is Institutional Scrutiny?

  • Writer: Julie O'Connor
    Julie O'Connor
  • 1 day ago
  • 8 min read


Prime Minister Lawrence Wong recently told young PAP activists that the party does not want everyone to think the same way, and that "you do not have to agree with us on every single issue." It is a generous sentiment. Yet it sits uneasily alongside former President Devan Nair's warning that, "The bread of those who conform is handsomely buttered. Keep your head down and you could enjoy one of the highest living standards in Asia. Raise it and you could lose a job, a home, and be harassed…"


The question of institutional tolerance for dissent becomes more pointed when one considers another of the Prime Minister's remarks. In a separate clip, Lawrence Wong addressed comments made by Lee Hsien Yang, the son of Singapore's founding Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew and the brother of former Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong, who has been granted political asylum in the United Kingdom. Wong stated that he could not control what Lee says from abroad. Taken literally, that is true. But it raises an uncomfortable question: if speech from abroad cannot be controlled, is the experience different for those who express similar views from within Singapore? It is worth noting that Wong himself has not brought defamation proceedings against Lee Hsien Yang, while two of his ministers have. Shanmugam and Balakrishnan commenced defamation proceedings over a Facebook post which Lee has consistently maintained was intended to raise questions of transparency, not to allege corruption.

The two ministers chose to bring their defamation proceedings in Singapore rather than in the United Kingdom, where the statements were published, which meant that the allegations were tested before Singapore's courts rather than the courts of the jurisdiction in which Lee Hsien Yang was residing. Whether that choice reflected legal strategy, convenience, or other considerations is not for me to determine.


I believe the more important question is not whether the Prime Minister can control what Lee, or anyone else, says, whether at home or abroad. It is whether Singapore's institutions are equally willing to examine the circumstances that give rise to those remarks, particularly when they challenge powerful institutions or individuals, or arise from processes whose central factual foundations were later substantially rejected by Singapore's highest court.

Lee Hsien Yang and his wife Lee Suet Fern have openly maintained their innocence, and it can be argued that their exile is an outcome in which Singapore's own institutions played a part. Lee Suet Fern's legal team, which included Walter Woon, a former Attorney-General, argued that the disciplinary tribunal had cherry-picked evidence, ignored material facts, and relied on a series of unjustifiable inferences. They further contended that the tribunal portrayed the late Lee Kuan Yew as a vulnerable, declining figure being managed by his son and daughter-in-law, when the evidence indicated a lucid and meticulous individual who read his own will before initialling each page. He was, at the time, still serving as an MP, and by any reasonable standard would have been expected to retain full capacity.

None of this is Lee Hsien Yang's personal account. It is drawn from arguments advanced by his wife's legal team before the Court of Three Judges. The Court of Three Judges did not simply endorse the Disciplinary Tribunal's findings. It expressly disagreed with the tribunal on a central issue: whether a solicitor-client relationship existed between Lee Suet Fern and Lee Kuan Yew.

The Court found that Lee Suet Fern did not receive instructions or directions directly from Lee Kuan Yew, that there was no express retainer between them, and that no implied retainer arose. In the Court's words, it found that "no solicitor-client relationship" existed between them. It also found no dishonesty in her conduct. The Court further observed that Lee Kuan Yew was legally trained, lucid, and content with the document he had signed.

Stripped of the tribunal's framing, what remains is a finding that a family member assisted with a document in a non-professional capacity, yet was later sanctioned in circumstances where the Court of Three Judges ultimately found that no solicitor-client relationship existed between her and Lee Kuan Yew. That distinction goes to the foundation of the professional obligations that were said to apply, and it formed a central part of the circumstances that led to disciplinary consequences with lasting professional and personal impact.

These concerns were echoed by Timothy Dutton CBE KC, who was widely regarded as one of the leading practitioners in professional discipline and professional negligence, and had formerly served as Chairman of the Bar Council and Head of Fountain Court Chambers. Dutton passed away in 2025. His assessment of the judgment was critical. He described the finding of misconduct as "legally unsound" and in "serious error," on the basis that the Court had applied solicitor-client obligations to a relationship it had itself found did not exist. In his view, the conclusion would not withstand appellate scrutiny if further review were available, and therefore the sanction should not have followed.

A separate disciplinary tribunal also considered the conduct of Kwa Kim Li, the solicitor whom the Court of Three Judges confirmed had acted for Lee Kuan Yew. That tribunal found that she had breached her duty of confidentiality to Lee Kuan Yew by sharing sensitive material with his eldest son without the other executors' consent, and separately, that she had misled Lee Wei Ling and Lee Hsien Yang in correspondence about the circumstances of the final will. She was fined $13,000. By contrast, Lee Suet Fern, who the Court found had no solicitor-client relationship with the deceased, received a far more severe sanction. The disparity invites scrutiny: the solicitor who actually acted for the testator received a comparatively minor penalty, while the family member later found not to have acted in a professional capacity faced substantial disciplinary consequences. The Court of Three Judges found that Lee Suet Fern neither drafted nor amended the final will, and that she was not a beneficiary under it. In considering the applicable professional conduct rules, Justice Woo emphasised: "The rule as it is cannot be waived." Here it is worth noting a point Lee Hsien Yang has raised publicly: that Lee Kuan Yew's earlier will, made while his wife *Kwa Geok Choo was still alive, was drafted by her, and that she was its principal beneficiary at the time. If that account is accurate, it raises a broader question about how the applicable professional obligations would have applied had those same circumstances involved her rather than Lee Suet Fern. In particular, one might ask whether the absence of separate independent legal representation for Lee Kuan Yew would have attracted the same level of scrutiny that was later directed at Lee Suet Fern.


*Kwa Geok Choo was the aunt of aforementioned Kwa Kim Li.

Judicial and quasi-judicial error occurs in all legal systems, but what distinguishes confident institutions is not an absence of error, but a willingness to examine it when it arises. Yet there appears to have been little public indication of any effort to review how the tribunal reached conclusions that were later found by the Court of Three Judges to be incorrect on a central issue.

This raises questions about how the Prime Minister's call for openness to different views applies in practice. One might reasonably expect such openness to extend beyond policy disagreements and include scrutiny of disciplinary processes when their underlying assumptions are later found to warrant reconsideration. Yet there appears to be little public evidence of such scrutiny within political or institutional circles.

Although I am not legally qualified, I write as a whistleblower whose experience has given me a particular interest in Singapore's corporate governance and legal system. I was offered a financial incentive to withdraw complaints and surrender evidence relating to allegations of fraud concerning a board member of an SGX-listed group of companies. After I spoke to the press, the Prime Minister's Office and MAS both said they engaged with me directly, but both also declined to discuss the substance of my allegations with the journalist, citing confidentiality.

That experience left me questioning how institutional processes can shape public narratives that are never meaningfully tested. In my case, Singapore's legal bodies declined to investigate my complaints, citing "insufficient evidence", a conclusion I dispute. Once such narratives take hold, they can become remarkably difficult to dislodge, even when later events cast serious doubt on the assumptions underlying them.

It is for that reason that I have taken a particular interest in cases involving Parti Liyani, Lee Hsien Yang, Lee Suet Fern, Pritam Singh and others, not because their circumstances are identical, but because they each raise broader questions about whether the narratives emerging from institutional processes are subjected to the same degree of scrutiny as the individuals affected by them.


What I noted during my research is Lee Hsien Yang and I have in common two notable circumstances. First, the parties we were each up against were represented by the same politically connected law firm. Second, when I spoke to the press about my allegations, I was accused by lawyers acting for a Singapore government-linked bank of acting with malice. When Lee Hsien Yang spoke to the press, the Singapore Government characterised his actions as being driven by a personal vendetta. While the circumstances are plainly different, I cannot help noticing a common feature: in both instances, attention was directed towards the credibility or motives of the individual making the allegations, rather than publicly addressing the substance of the underlying concerns.

My interest in the cases involving Lee Suet Fern and Pritam Singh arises for a different reason. Both are lawyers who have faced, or are facing, disciplinary proceedings initiated through the Law Society of Singapore and ultimately determined by the Court of Three Judges. I am not suggesting that the underlying conduct in those cases is comparable to my own. Rather, they prompt me to ask whether comparable allegations involving members of the legal profession receive comparable institutional scrutiny.

Had Singapore's legal bodies investigated my complaint, would the lawyers involved in attempting to secure my withdrawal of allegations made to audit committees, regulators, financial institutions and legal bodies have been subjected to scrutiny comparable to the disciplinary proceedings brought against Lee Suet Fern, or those now faced by Pritam Singh?


More than anything, what continues to concern me is not what happened to me, but the possibility that it has happened to others. If people can be persuaded, pressured, or financially induced to withdraw allegations while the underlying conduct is never independently investigated, the consequences extend far beyond any individual case. Allegations may never be tested, those responsible may escape scrutiny, and innocent people may suffer the consequences of evidence that is never properly examined. How can the public have confidence in a system that permits that possibility?


If young PAP members are encouraged to think independently, should Singaporeans outside the PAP expect the same freedom to question powerful institutions without fearing adverse consequences? The reported rise in the number of Singaporeans seeking asylum overseas raises that question. Whatever the individual reasons in each case, does it reflect a growing lack of confidence among some Singaporeans that their concerns will receive an independent hearing? Do some look at the experiences of Lee Hsien Yang and Lee Suet Fern and conclude that challenging powerful figures or questioning institutional processes carries consequences they are unwilling to risk? If even members of Singapore's most prominent political family can find themselves seeking and being granted political asylum after publicly challenging the actions of powerful institutions, what message does that send to everyone else contemplating whether to speak up?

Perhaps the more important question for the Prime Minister is not whether the PAP welcomes different views, but whether Singaporeans can have confidence that those who express them will receive the same fair and independent scrutiny as the institutions they challenge.

Note on terminology: Lee Suet Fern's case was decided by the Court of Three Judges, a body of three Supreme Court judges empowered under the Legal Profession Act to hear lawyer disciplinary appeals. This is distinct from Singapore's ordinary Court of Appeal.

 
 
 

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