The Best I Could (32 page)

On September 29, 2008, I was in the High Court to defend a bus driver who allegedly murdered his 15-year-old stepdaughter. It was my usual practice to go to the Bar Room to have a coffee and chat with Choo, the caretaker. He has been there long before I was called to the Bar in 1971. While having my coffee, JBJ walked in and greeted me. He looked very tired. Since I was with my interns discussing my case, he sat at a table all by himself. He was in a very melancholic mood and appeared deep in thought.

As I was leaving the Bar Room, I walked past him and asked him how he was. He said he was alright and told me that he had been instructed to act as lead counsel in a civil case before Justice Kang Ting Chiu. I remarked that the judge was my former classmate. JBJ smiled. Then he said, “I presume you’re here to defend someone for murder.” I laughed and said, “Yes.”

After lunch that same day, I saw him in the Bar Room again. He was having a nap. He woke up suddenly and asked Choo for a cup of tea. While sipping his tea, he asked me how long my case was scheduled for. I told him that it was for eight days. He finished his tea and left for court.

The next morning, as I was about to have my breakfast, my wife asked me if I had heard the news. I enquired, “What news?” She gently informed me that JBJ had passed away that morning. I was shocked and saddened to hear that. I couldn’t believe it as he was with me just the day before. Though he looked tired, I never expected him to die the next day. At that moment, so many memories came flashing back.

I remember the first time I was introduced to JBJ and how I looked at him with awe. My mind also went back to the time when we were embroiled in cases together. I remember the joy of winning and the anguish of losing cases. The anguish was far more than the joy. Most of all, I remember a courageous man who sacrificed so much for Singapore because of the principles he believed in. In my sorrow, I forgot that this man can be stubborn, obnoxious and pig-headed. I could only remember his toothy grin and the way he wept when I saw him in prison. It was so sad.

I will remember JBJ for all the good things—his courage, tenacity and the will to fight on against all odds. He did not see the fruits of his struggle during his lifetime but I am sure that some time in the future, a new generation of Singaporeans will.

I consider the Law Society Council’s decision not to adduce evidence against me when the complainant was none other than the Attorney-General to be a very courageous act. The Law Society stood by a member to ensure that he was not bullied. I look upon this as its finest moment. I believe the reason the Law Society Council took that stand was partly due to the calibre of its members, with the likes of Teo Soh Lung, a lawyer who was later detained for what she believed in as a member of the council. There were many others like her who had very strong principles, who believed in fair play and that no one should be bullied.

The other time the Law Society stood out, when lawyers walked with pride, was when Francis Seow was its president. It would subsequently be proven though that many of his actions were fuelled by deep-seated motives or what one would consider as personal desires. Whatever his motives may have been, the way he conducted himself as president and the speeches he made had lawyers walking with their heads held up high. We had the feeling that we could not be trampled upon. We had a leader who would stand by us. Little did we know that the same leader would some day pack up his things and slink away from Singapore leaving behind a lot of disillusioned people who believed in him. There were also those who gave him money. He still owes me $25,000. I suppose I should say goodbye to it. Most of all, there were many who thought that he would open up a new chapter in Singapore politics.

But he was a disappointment and a disaster. He didn’t have the moral courage to return to Singapore to face income tax charges. Even if he was convicted of those charges, it would have only amounted to a fine but he was not prepared to take the risk. In the final analysis, he was after all, nothing. A man who spoke well—his eloquence was often very charming—but other than that he did not have what it took to be a leader. He was not prepared to go through the test of fire which all politicians must face. Whatever you may say about Lee Kuan Yew, Goh Keng Swee and the other first-generation PAP leaders, they all went through their “baptisms of fire” and came out stronger. It is a pity that Francis Seow was not made of sterner stuff.

Francis Seow was the reason behind the 1986 amendment to the Legal Profession Act. Section 38(1) was introduced to prevent the Law Society from commenting on any legislation that was passed by the government. Francis Seow was making use of the Law Society as a sort of political platform to attack the government and to make political in-roads with the Singapore public. Lee Kuan Yew, the Prime Minister then, did not like it at all. In fact, there was a Parliament Select Committee hearing for which I was subpoenaed along with many council members including Francis Seow, who was then president of the Law Society. Those who were there at the hearing will remember the confrontation between Francis Seow and Lee Kuan Yew. Most of them said that Francis Seow had the upper hand. When the hearing was over, I remember asking him about what I had heard. He told me: “Well, when I was solicitor-general, there were many instances when it was only between me and the PM. So, when I said these things happened, and if they didn’t, there was nothing he could do because it is his word against mine.” I honestly thought that when you lie so glibly like Francis Seow, it must have astonished Lee Kuan Yew that a man can lie that well. I think in an interview Lee himself asked how can one handle somebody who tells lies.

It is very difficult to confront a man who is lying when only he and the other person know the truth. I don’t think Lee was in a position to go into details because some of the conversations they had must have been quite serious and he was not prepared to discuss the circumstances. Francis Seow took full advantage of Lee’s difficulty, lied through his teeth and came out victorious. But his victory was short-lived because in the end the statute was amended. He was statutorily terminated and had to cease being the president because he had been suspended before and the new amendment will not allow him to hold office in the Law Society.

When we were going through this turmoil in the Law Society, the trouble and confrontation with the government, and changes in the law, I couldn’t help but think of what my good friend Chelvarajah, a person whom I have a lot of respect for, told me a long time ago. He said: “Subhas, you do not know Francis Seow. He can be a dangerous person.” How true his words were.

After Francis Seow stepped down, Giam Chin Toon took over. He had lost to Francis Seow the previous year. Giam was a very unassuming person and not very eloquent or demanding. But he had the knack of getting the right people to do the right things and he would get the job done. In that sense, he was an effective leader. Of course, he paled in comparison with Francis Seow, who was flamboyant and outgoing. Giam was the opposite. He was quiet and was not interested in publicity. He just wanted to be left alone to do his work.

I still remember the time when Giam met with an accident during his tenure. He was driving his Porsche when he knocked down a cyclist who was going against the flow of traffic. The cyclist, an old man, was riding up a slope and Giam couldn’t see him in time to avoid him. The cyclist died. Giam was badly shaken up but he still attended the council meeting and was re-elected president of the Law Society for a second year. I recall the man’s family was threatening him. In fact during the coroner’s inquiry, word went around that the family was going to create a scene and possibly harm Giam. I was asked by some council members to show support for him in court and I roped in some lawyers to join me. We hung around there to make sure that nothing happened to Giam. He was a friend and our president. We felt that it was our duty to ensure that nothing happened to him. Finally, the matter was settled. Giam was not charged because he was simply not responsible for the accident.

After his term was over, Chelvarajah, who was his vice-president, took over as president of the Law Society. Chelva is remembered for his courage in speaking out over Chief Justice Yong Pung How’s demands to get things done quickly. The Chief Justice wanted backlogs cleared quickly. He did not want justice to be delayed, all the time emphasising that justice delayed is justice denied. He was always rushing everyone. He wanted the law to be swift but in his enthusiasm, he did not take into consideration the practical problems lawyers faced, for instance, when bringing in foreign witnesses in time for trials. No quarters were given. The registrar was given instructions to issue early dates and to clear the cases quickly. If people could not accept the dates given, the registrar was told to strike off the court action. It was getting to be a very serious problem.

At an annual dinner held during his term as president between 1990 and 1992, where the Guest-of-Honour was then Prime Minister Goh Chok Tong, Chelva made his speech. He took a dig at the Chief Justice, who was present at the dinner, when he said: “When we talk about justice delayed being justice denied, we must also remember that justice hurried is justice buried.” There was practically a standing ovation for him because he had put it so aptly at the appropriate time. I think it took a lot of guts for the Law Society president to stand up and say that. Though enthusiastically received, his speech did not have any effect on the judicial administration. Cases were still being rushed but I feel Chelva made his point that evening.

After Chelva, we had Peter Low as president for two years. He was a very insipid president, not noted for anything good or bad. He did not make any changes and there was no effect on the Law Society or on the lawyers. He just plodded along. How he managed to remain president for two years, no one knows. That’s all I can say about him. After Peter Low, came another friend of mine, Chandra Mohan. He used to clash with Chief Justice Yong on policies, the Legal Profession Act and many other matters. He was quite bold and spoke his mind. The next president was the late R Palakrishnan. During his three-year tenure, there wasn’t much dispute between him and the judiciary. In fact, we called him a “yes” man because practically everything the Chief Justice wanted, he gave. I suppose that was the best way out. There was no point fighting if you were not going to win anyway. You might as well give in gracefully and reap the ensuing rewards.

Arafat Selvam took over from Palakrishnan. She was a disaster. She did not read the minds of the lawyers. There was an attempt to pass a vote of no-confidence against her and her council by the general body of lawyers. I think it’s the first time in the history of the Law Society that such a motion was tabled. After two hours of serious debate, my good friend, Lee Tow Kiat, wisely suggested that the meeting be adjourned. That motion was carried and the meeting was never reconvened again. After the incident, I think she decided that she had enough after being president for one year. She stood down. She blamed me amongst others for making her life as president miserable and blamed us for all the problems she had. In some ways what she said was true.

We also had Philip Jeyaretnam, another effective president. During his time, we set up the Association of Criminal Lawyers of Singapore. He misunderstood the motive behind its formation and clashed with us. We hit back at him. There were some antagonistic exchanges between the both of us. Finally, during his last few months as president, we met for lunch and managed to resolve our differences. We realised that it was all a case of miscommunication. After Jeyaretnam, we had Michael Hwang, who is the current president. To me, he seems to be doing well and making the right moves, but others say “a new broom sweeps clean”. We’ll have to wait and see how his tenure progresses.

I am not in a position to say much about other Law Society presidents. I know Harry Elias very well. He was president before Francis Seow. I worked with Harry in some of his sub-committees. I know T P B Menon who was president for four years. He managed to run the Law Society with a small secretariat. People like him did not have the luxury of the type of secretariat the current president has.

As mentioned early in this book, David Marshall was my counsel when I was detained in Queenstown Remand Prison, along with prominent lawyer Leo Fernando and my classmate, Mak Kok Weng. After I was released from prison, I used to call David Marshall occasionally to say hello. We would chat even when we met in the courts.

A childhood friend of mine, an engineer, was one day charged for corruption. We engaged David Marshall and I briefed him. After a few days, he suggested that my friend should plead guilty. I said that if he wanted to plead guilty, we would not have engaged him in the first place. He said, “Well, that’s all I can suggest.” We parted amicably enough. Of course, the deposit I paid to him was not refunded and my friend rebuked me for going to see him in the first place. My friend then asked that I should defend him on my own, which I did. He was acquitted by District Judge Ibrahim Burhan without his defence being called. The case appeared in the newspapers the following morning. I ran into David Marshall in Court 26 and he congratulated me on my victory.

A few days later, I saw David Marshall again in the same court. By this time, we already knew that he had been appointed ambassador to France. Many of us were a little disappointed because we thought that he would be the one who would lead the opposition against the ruling party. He had the calibre, the charisma and the experience to be a good opposition leader. When I met him in Court 26, I said to him, “Congratulations, Mr Marshall. But how do you like Mr Rajaratnam as your new boss?” Some of the other lawyers present laughed.

He replied, “Come on, lad. Don’t talk like that. I just want to serve my country.”