I found that out in the late 1960s when I saw him campaigning for the People’s Action Party – in Tamil. Politics was then fierce and violent.

For three or four terms, Robin was the MP for Changi, a rural pro-communist stronghold.

“I had to work a lot harder. Eventually I knew virtually every family there – what the man did, how many children he had and what schools they attended,” he told me long after his retirement.

His leftist rival lived among the villagers. “It was a house-to-house battle for votes,” he said.

When someone’s wife fell sick, Robin the MP would help get her to a sinseh (Chinese doctor).

In today’s PAP, he would never be invited to a pre-election tea; he wasn’t a graduate. But he spoke English, Chinese (plus several dialects), Malay and Tamil effortlessly and possessed an uncanny streetwise knowledge in politics you can’t learn in university.

Robin was among several early generation PAP MPs who were lowly educated and included bicycle shop owners and butchers.

They have long become extinct, replaced in the 70s by professionals and businessmen carefully selected from a computer list.

Lee Kuan Yew’s PAP fixed a university education as minimum entry into a political career. Soon that wasn’t enough. It wanted top scholars with plenty of distinctions.

Unlike the old warriors of the past, these scholars are brought in from outside – instead of rising through the party ranks.

It was a reflection of the times. As the voters became more sophisticated, Kuan Yew started weaning out the older party stalwarts and bringing in the high achievers who had little, or no experience, in politics.

It didn’t matter in those days. The PAP was popular. The votes looked after themselves.

As the years passed, the “quality” went up. A degree wasn’t enough – it needed the creme de la creme.

The non-political technocrats had brought many advantages to Singapore Inc, which needed problem-solvers rather than street-fighters.

Efficiency rose; so did standards of public service. It also minimises party infighting so common in many countries.

Former PAP theoretician S. Rajaratnam once said: “We don’t always need visionaries; in the new Singapore we need problem-solvers.”

In recent months, Singaporeans have made known their preference for a capable Prime Minister with a softer touch. The media has gone big on this, but misses one point.

It applies not only to Lee Hsien Loong alone but his whole new team as well. In other words, they want the highly qualified PAP MPs to be more approachable and to spend more time on the ground.

(Currently, government and opposition MPs meet their constituents once a week to hear their complaints or requests as well as head a residential body that manages estates under their care.)

In the future, Lee will face problems with an infrastructure dominated by scholars and high achievers with little experience in grassroots politics. In its selection process, the party has tried its best to pick candidates who also have the right human touch, but not always succeeding with flying colours.

It is harder, generally speaking, for scholars and other managers who are used to giving orders to suddenly become humble and patient while serving the people.

Some residents can be crude, unreasonable or insulting. It takes one or two elections for non-politicians to get used to the rough and tumble of winning votes. Some do it better than others; a few can’t cut it.

This probably explains why Lee is retaining almost all the older ministers. They are needed for their election experience.

The newcomers have never campaigned for votes. Some of the wealthy ones had, until now, never stepped inside a public housing flat.

The PAP is learning from failures. In recent elections, streetwise oppositionists scored wins over “quality” PAP candidates.

One intelligent figure reportedly lost after she shook hands with a fish seller and quickly washed them. Another won – and remains an MP – in a largely Teochew area by campaigning in the dialect.

Today, with a new electorate, the PAP can’t expect the votes to look after themselves.

Lee apparently realises a change is needed. The party must bring back candidates who are better campaigners. Without them, the PAP could become increasingly vulnerable.

The opposition is expected to introduce well-educated men and women, some of them willing to campaign a lot harder.

Just a few days after he was sworn in, Hsien Loong indicated he would field more grassroots candidates.

These grassroots MPs “do not go for big speeches or fancy presentations. But their hearts are in the right place,” he said.

“When they speak in Parliament, they reflect the views of their residents and the reality of our society which they know first-hand. So people will listen.

“They are essential members of the PAP team, which can win support in the constituencies and also deliver solutions and results at national level.”

This shows Lee’s political shrewdness. There’s another reason for what he wants to do. Some heartlanders don’t like what they see as elitism in the ruling party and the country.

Introducing more old-fashioned politicians into Parliament could help dilute this perception.

One cynic against having too many scholars in government is retired civil servant Ngiam Tong Dow. In an interview last year, the respected bureaucrat said some had become arrogant and believed in their own propaganda. He is also not convinced their status would guarantee their loyalty to the country.

To the critics, equating academics and professionals as the best people for the nation’s top political posts may have become outdated in the creative world of the 21st Century.

But Singapore is evolving. Until a better way is found, it will probably continue.

o Seah Chiang Nee is a veteran journalist and editor of the information website littlespeck.com (e-mail: cnseah2000@ littlespeck.com )

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