The ban on importing chewing gum still stands, and the government blocks smutty Web sites. But uncensored plays such as The Vagina Monologues and Rent are making celebrated debuts, and a "Speakers' Corner" modeled on London's allows citizens for the first time to address the public without a permit.

Most believe these baby steps by the famously disciplinarian city-state have less to do with a sudden love of civil liberties than with a realization that to stay ahead in a globalized economy, Singapore simply has to lighten up a bit.

"What's pushing it is future ambition and a future reading of where the global trends are, and the global trends in both politics and economics are toward liberalization," said Simon Tay, an independent member of Singapore's parliament.

To critics, it's merely window-dressing so far.

Speech is still far from free, and the ruling People's Action Party has shown no sign of changing a system that outwardly resembles a parliamentary democracy but has managed to keep the same party in power for 35 years.

The government part-owns most major companies and demands a say in everything from dating to the courteous use of mobile phones. The law metes out canings on bare buttocks for crimes such as vandalism, as American teen-ager Michael Fay found out in 1994 in a case that made international headlines.

Having achieved the rank of financial and technological powerhouse, Singapore's leaders could well argue that they have disproved the notion that aggressive capitalism needs small government and that an educated populace will demand more freedom.

The evidence of Singapore's success is everywhere.

Its economy grew by an impressive 10 percent last year while much of the region was still smarting from the 1997-98 Asian financial crisis.

Investors who shun the rest of Southeast Asia are pouring money into Singapore -- a record $5.3 billion in manufacturing investment and over $1 billion in the services sector last year, according to Singapore's Economic Development Board.

Its seaport is considered the world's busiest, it is southern Asia's banking center, and it is a hub for oil refining, ship building, chemicals, pharmaceuticals, electronic goods and computer components. And Singapore's education system produces eighth-graders who scored first in math and second in science in a worldwide series of tests several months ago.

Foreign Policy, a Washington-based magazine, recently ranked Singapore as the world's most "globalized" country in terms of cross-border flows of goods and services, capital, people and communication.

Tiny Singapore didn't achieve all this just with kind words, its leaders say.

"If we had followed the prescription of the Western liberals, we would never have gotten here," Lee Kuan Yew, Singapore's elder statesman and the architect of its efficient, highly controlled system, said in a recent interview with the Associated Press.

"You can see there's a much more relaxed attitude to contrary opinions in the media, in the opposition," Lee said.

"We can afford to ease up."

To critics, the pace of change is excruciatingly slow. Virtually every step toward greater freedom of expression comes with a reminder that old ways die hard.

Theaters may feature some nudity and raunchy language. But race relations remain a great taboo -- Singapore is three-quarters Chinese with Malay and Indian minorities. The government in October banned Talaq, a play about violence among Singapore's Indian Muslims, and briefly arrested the director for trying to rehearse it.

About 100 civil rights campaigners gathered in Speakers' Corner in December to mark International Human Rights Day and -- in an extremely rare act of defiance -- chanted slogans against the Internal Security Act, which allows detention without trial.

The group's leader, author and activist James Gomez, was later ordered to appear before police. He did, and he is still being investigated, according to authorities.

"We are creaking with nuances," Gomez said. "You can speak but you can't assemble."

While a growing number of activists are exploring ways to take advantage of relaxed restrictions, they remain well outside the mainstream. Even if the government seems more disposed to ease its hold, it's not because most Singaporeans are clamoring for it. There is little sign among the island's 3.2 million citizens of a pro-democracy groundswell like that which has wracked neighboring Indonesia.

Singapore is a rare example of a nation going from Third World to First World in a single generation -- a nation that only three decades ago was a malaria-ridden, poverty-stricken island struggling out of a century of British colonial rule and an ill-fated two-year merger with neighboring Malaysia.

In a 1999 survey by Transparency International, a watchdog group, Singapore was listed as the seventh least corrupt country in the world, as perceived by business people, risk analysts and the public. The United States came 18th.

But success cost it something of its soul, say those who remember the Singapore of old.

Its days as a lazy, steamy backwater of pirates, alleyways and intrigue are a distant memory. Bugis Street, once a red-light district brimming with transvestites, has been turned into an emporium of T-shirts and sunglasses bordered by a shiny new mall.

"I wish they'd let the gays back in," said How Wan Nam, a souvenir vendor on Bugis Street. "More tourists would come."

Rows and rows of government-built apartment blocks cover much of the island -- a testament to both the sterility of the new Singapore and the genius of its rulers. Because while the apartment blocks may not be much to look at, some 80 percent are owned by the people who live in them.

That's probably the world's highest rate of home ownership and one of the reasons why few Singaporeans are inclined to rebel against the established order.

For all the talk of liberalization, authorities have lately been turning up the heat on the country's leading opposition politician, Joshua "J.B." Jeyaretnam, who was recently declared bankrupt because he failed to pay an installment of fees owed from a libel suit brought against him by top officials.

If Jeyaretnam loses his appeals, he must forfeit his parliament seat -- one of only three held by the opposition in the 93-seat legislature. Jeyaretnam recently said he believes the government is "opening fire" now because national elections must be held sometime in the next 17 months.

Critics say defamation suits are a key tactic used by the government to silence dissent. Another is denying housing renovations to neighborhoods that vote for opposition candidates.

In an interview with the Associated Press, Prime Minister Goh Chok Tong compared liberalization to a balloon that must be inflated slowly or it will burst.

So those wishing to speak at Speakers' Corner must first register with authorities, microphones are not allowed and a sign prohibits speakers from discussing religion or race.

Speakers' Corner, an acre of grass by a police station, hasn't quite lived up to the high hopes people had when it opened last September.

Most days, there are no speakers. Those who do come usually air individual grievances about the high cost of medicine or the need for more government assistance to the elderly.

Most opposition politicians have boycotted Speakers' Corner, saying it is no substitute for true liberty.

Singapore's efforts to keep out drugs, pornography and Western permissiveness can be downright comical.

Albert Odell, the owner of a video-rental store, says he must pay official censors about $12 per hour to review his tapes and delete offending scenes.

Much to the censors' chagrin, he attaches their rulings to the video jacket. "Erase sequence of woman caressing her thighs," reads one.

The government's hand is felt constantly, from "urine sensors" in public elevators to the bell that chimes in your taxi each time the driver exceeds the speed limit. On Singapore's sleek cross-island expressways, the effect can be mind-numbing.

Prime Minister Goh acknowledged that some of the rules might make Singapore look silly, but he defended them, saying that until the clampdown, urine in elevators and chewing gum jamming subway doors had been real problems.

"Very untidy," he said.

The government has long engaged in social engineering that strikes some critics as Orwellian, such as running a dating service for professionals and conducting campaigns to encourage educated Singaporeans to have more kids.

Officials contend it's hard to argue with success.

"People are wise to look at us. We are a social laboratory," Goh said.

Yet the impulse to control leaves little room for spontaneity. Even the campaign to liven up the night life -- peppering the island with theaters, night clubs, outdoor cafes and karaoke bars -- comes with some finger-wagging.

"This is a fun place to live," Deputy Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong told university students. "And we can make it still more fun, provided you realize that fun is not the only thing in life."

Lee, the 49-year-old son of founding father Lee Kuan Yew, is widely expected to become the next prime minister before 2007, the date by which Prime Minister Goh has said he will step down.

There is a perception among Singaporeans that Goh represents the more liberal wing of the party, while Lee and his father take a somewhat harder line.

Goh insists it's just a difference in style. Compared with the peppery elder Lee, "I'm less provocative," he says.

Although he stepped down as prime minister a decade ago, Lee at 77 still wields considerable power under the title of senior minister.

A kinder, gentler side to Lee may be emerging in his golden years. He recently gave an online chat, musing on everything from God to bigamy. But when it comes to law and order, he remains unyielding.

A 73-year-old illiterate woman in poor health was recently dragged out of a Singapore courtroom in tears, having been ordered to begin serving a six-month prison sentence for renting an apartment to illegal immigrants.

Was that justified? Lee was asked. He agreed the punishment was "draconian," but said it was necessary because "without a place to stay, an illegal immigrant cannot survive in Singapore."