A string of smallish incidents – graffiti, attempted rallies and other public protest forms – has made an unlikely appearance in this city-state known for 40 years for its tight political control.

Actually the perpetrators involved have been few, their acts mild and pretty routine when compared to other cities, east or west.

But in this strict law-and-order society, vandalism and public demonstrations, however small or peaceful, will evoke a strong police response.

The first shock came in July when the headquarters of the National Kidney Foundation, the largest charity, was defaced following revelations of financial abuses by its executive Mr T.T. Durai.

It was the first case of political vandalism in many years. An angry person or persons sprayed paint on its entrance and sidewall with words “big liar” and “Save Singapore” in Chinese and English.

They were quickly erased, police investigated without an arrest but the episode left a clear message that, for the right reason, Singaporeans could actually behave as angry dwellers elsewhere.

Last month in an opposition constituency, a vandal defaced the publicity banner and picture of the likely ruling People’s Action Party candidate Sitoh Yih Pin.

And in a residential neighbourhood, protesters painted the words, “Jobs for foreigners, NS (national service) for Singaporeans”, on a public facility, evidently reflecting anger at both policies.

The opposition Singapore Democratic Party has been calling for civil, non-violent action against the government, but it has largely been ignored. There’s no indication that these incidents were connected to it or to one another.

The police reacted with full force when four SDP members staged a protest rally in the central district.

A dozen riot police wearing helmets and knee-high protective gear and carrying shields and batons confronted them outside the Central Provident Fund.

Critics cracked jokes about the “overkill” to break up the tiny demonstration calling for greater transparency and accountability in the state-managed pension fund and other government agencies.

The four dispersed without being arrested. Under the law, any public protest of at least five people without a police permit is deemed illegal.

Such approval is rarely, if ever, given to an opposition rally outside election campaigning.

In a limited way, these recent actions reflect the new generation, which feels less beholden to the PAP for its contribution to the nation. A growing number blames it on an authoritarian rule.

Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong has promised a freer environment, but it is unlikely to cover public demonstrations.

The government’s view of “freer” politics is that of an unhindered debate within or with the ruling party rather than with an opposition, something not shared by its critics.

Lee Kuan Yew, who once said young people tended to equate politics with the excitement of contests and debate, is being proven right.

His top-down party has set up a “feedback” channel where people can raise complaints as well as community and student dialogue sessions that are widely reported in the press.

But all these are viewed as too sanitised and tended to evade real major issues. At any rate the government listened, but rarely followed the suggestions, critics believe.

The new display of public anger is unlikely to spread. The sort of demonstrations often seen in Taiwan, Hong Kong or Japan – let alone the West – is unlikely to become a way of life here any time soon.

But Singaporeans will probably think up new innovative ways to complain.

Recently, protesters concocted a novel way to complain about the continued closure of the suburban Buangkok MRT station two years after it was built because of insufficient resident users there.

They placed eight cardboards of white elephants on a road divider outside the station during the visit of a Cabinet minister, implying it was a wasted asset.

It is part of the North-East Line, which was opened by the then-Deputy Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong. He then said, “We do not squander money on big white elephants that become financial burdens for our future generations.”

Many Singaporeans had a good laugh, but the humour was lost on the police, who launched a thorough investigation to find the culprits who had put up the white elephants.

In an article, a columnist of the pro-government Straits Times wondered: “When the results of the investigation are made public, what will the people’s reaction be?”

Singaporeans think it an excessive reaction. Some, however, see it as a strong warning to the public to stop such protests.

Broadly speaking, Singaporeans have retained their bo chap (“don’t care”) attitude about politics. Many don’t even know or care who their members of Parliament are.

The activists are a relatively small number of probably several thousand strong. These are, however, becoming more politically active, taking part in online discussions and organising Internet petitions.

Others operate political weblogs. One of them said, “Singaporeans are interested in political matters, always have been. The mass media in Singapore argues that they are more interested in the 5C’s (materialism) but surely access to the 5C’s is a political question.

“But talking about the price of HDB flats, a casino, COE’s, MRT prices are political issues. If you don’t “do” (talk about) politics then what do you do?”

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

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