The republic was relieved at being spared any destruction (nine killed and 15 missing mostly in Phuket) – but this was soon replaced by the thought that it may not be so lucky the next time.

People here are shocked to see the tidal waves reaching Africa, a lot farther from the epicentre near Sumatra than this city, which measures no more than 660sq km.

If the waves had rolled south rather than westward on Dec 26, Singapore would have been ruined. Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong described it as a “miraculous escape”.

He put together Singapore’s largest overseas relief operation at a cost of S$20mil every two weeks, in addition to US$15mil in cash (the Red Cross collected another S$18mil from the public).

Singapore sent a 1000-member force, including 100 surgeons and medical staff, to Indonesia and Thailand.

The bulk was for Indonesia’s Aceh province, especially its worst-hit Meulaboh town whose survivors were cut off from outside help because roads had been washed away or clogged by debris.

Heavy Puma and Chinook helicopters from platforms of two naval vessels moored nearby flew in tractors and excavators to establish a docking port and build aircraft landing zones.

Doctors went to work, setting up a makeshift hospital capable of performing surgery.

Because of its own size, Singapore is focusing its help on Meulaboh, immediate relief and eventual rebuilding.

The Health Ministry has also offered to help Aceh restore its healthcare system and rebuild hospitals and clinics.

For the past two weeks, teary-eyed people had been watching the heart-wrenching scenes of death and despair, especially among the children, on TV.

(The local media has sent out a small army of journalists to report – and record for history – mankind’s worst disaster in 40 years.)

The impact on the audience was electrifying. Many stayed up until 1.30am to watch the day’s TV wrap-up.

This tsunami has dramatically changed many people’s attitude towards their neighbours.

For this generation of Singaporeans, who have rarely experienced hardship, it is a reality check, a grim reminder that they cannot live in isolation from the world outside.

Young and old of all races, businessmen to IT engineers to uneducated Housing Board “heartlanders” to schoolchildren, have – at least temporarily – set aside their attitude of kiasu selfishness to help.

Foreign workers from stricken countries are allowed free telephone calls home, and employers are urged to show understanding by giving affected workers time off to tend to their needs.

One travel agency boss flew to Phuket to personally look for five missing package-tour travellers.

Thousands of individuals, doctors, professionals and businessmen made their own way in groups to help survivors. One died when his vehicle, laden with supplies, overturned in Malaysia.

Singapore is sometimes likened to an uneven three-legged stool whenever mention is made of its rapid transformation from Third to the First World.

Commentators say this to emphasise their point that the city’s priority to economic growth has been achieved at the expense of social development.

With a short history and its migrant background, the republic is due to celebrate its 40th National Day in August.

This Singapore stool, some observers say, has two sturdy, dependable legs – namely affluence and good governance – but the third, the development of people’s character, sadly lags behind.

That’s probably why Singaporeans do not see their country as truly developed, because social development has not been achieved. It is far from being a civil society.

Perceptions of Singaporean selfishness and arrogance abound.

They include mistreatment of maids, Mercedes-Benz owners rushing for free schoolbooks meant for needy children, or people grabbing buffet food and leaving them uneaten.

These are obviously acts of a small minority, but often enough to form a stereotype view of the society.

Other selfish acts are queue jumping and refusal to offer seats to the elderly or the pregnant in trains. People still remember the case of an employer who abandoned his foreign worker, badly hurt in a work accident, in a ditch.

In short, people do not care enough for each other.

Many middle-class youths actually believe poverty stems from personal defects, so giving alms to the needy ranks low in life.

But each major crisis helps to strengthen a people’s caring nature and cohesion.

No one wants death and suffering, but if they have to happen there is a blessing to be counted – for Singapore in particular.

Social development takes a long time. Education helps as a catalyst to hasten the road to maturity like a calamity. It brings out shared grief and common action.

Just before the carnage, Singaporeans were piling up criticism on an elite student who implied that low-income families who needed welfare assistance and could not pay their bills were “ignorant and lazy”.

Her team was arguing that Singaporeans were relying too much on the Government for welfare. “Beggars can’t be choosers,” she added.

Although her comments were merely aimed at winning a debate and probably did not really reflect her own feelings, they shocked most Singaporeans.

In fact, it sparked an angry response from the audience. A union official said before walking out: “I take offence at the comment. Those who need help are not beggars, we are needy citizens.”

That an elite youth believes the poor are failed beings deserving of contempt, not help, is a worrying feature.

She is not alone. Many high-achieving students from comfortable homes look down on needy people.

It didn’t augur well for the institution of charity in Singapore until the tsunami hit. It may help end some of these idiosyncrasies.

The region’s disaster will probably turn Singapore into a centre for UN efforts for the restoration of Indonesia’s Aceh.

It may even be the much-needed catalyst to change the new generation of Singaporeans for the better.

o Seah Chiang Nee is a veteran journalist and editor of the information website littlespeck.com

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