SM Lee Hsien Loong at the book launch of “Creating Three Unique Singapore Laws”

Professor Jayakumar
Colleagues and former colleagues
Ladies and Gentlemen

I am very happy to be here today to launch Professor Jayakumar’s latest book – “Creating Three Unique Singapore Laws”.

General approach towards Constitutional changes

This book is about how our Constitution was amended to establish three very important institutions in our Singapore system. But it also sheds light on Singapore’s broader approach towards the Constitution.

Independent Singapore did not start out with a new Constitution specifically designed for us. This is quite unlike some other countries. For example, India and the United States convened delegates to design their constitutional architecture from the ground up − brand-new, and comprehensive. They wanted to start de novo – to set out what, in their minds, was the ideal way their nation should function. After intense debate and drafting, they adopted the final texts in their entirety, confident that the ideals, principles and rules therein would stand the test of time, to be abided by for generations to come.

In our case, the suddenness of Separation afforded us no such luxury. We had to cobble together a patchwork Constitution in a hurry. But over the years, we shaped this improvised document to suit our needs, and updated it as circumstances changed and society progressed.

In 1970, after dealing with the most pressing survival needs of the new nation, Mr Lee requested British legal experts to prepare a clean and comprehensive redraft of our patchwork Constitution. I remember that around this time Mr Lee was asking about the US Constitution, and how few amendments it had had over nearly two centuries. In fact, it had only had 25 successful amendments. I thought then that perhaps he was hoping the experts would produce a similarly timeless constitution for Singapore – one that would not need to be amended except extremely rarely. The experts duly produced an elegant draft, but Mr Lee decided that it would not work in practice. The foreign experts lacked an intimate understanding of Singapore’s society and ground realities. They relied too heavily on abstract theory and first-principles academic postulation. Elegant as their draft was, he judged it ill-suited to our local context.

For example, the foreign experts had no idea why our Constitution required an MP who leaves his party to lose his seat. This was contrary to British practice, which allowed MPs to change parties and cross the floor without penalty. The foreign experts thought our provision was unusual, and said “refer back to British practice”. But our Constitution contained this provision for a specific and important reason. In 1961, the pro-Communists in the PAP had split from the party to form the Barisan Sosialis. The 13 legislative assemblymen who had tried but failed to topple the government were expelled from the PAP. But because this provision did not yet exist, they remained in the legislative assembly − now in the opposition − even though they had originally been elected on a totally different platform, under a party that they now bitterly opposed. This was not how representative democracy was meant to work. It led to two years of intense political strife, and Singapore paid an awful price. Mr Lee never forgot this indelible lesson. It caused him to insert the provision later, as soon as he was able to.

Mr Lee therefore decided to keep the existing Constitution. For all its untidiness, it had already been run-in and tested. The public had gotten used to how it operated. This working Constitution could be updated, modified, and adapted as we went along, as and when changes became necessary. Mr Lee eloquently explained his view to Parliament in 1984:

“From my experience, Constitutions have to be custom-made, tailored to suit the peculiarities of the person wearing the suit. Perhaps... like shoes, the older they are, the better they fit. Stretch them, soften them, resole them, repair them. They are always better than a brand new pair of shoes.”

Jaya’s book describes vividly what this meant in practice. It tells the inside story of how we amended our Constitution to create three important political institutions: The Elected Presidency (EP); Group Representation Constituencies (GRCs), and Non-Constituency Members of Parliament (NCMPs).

The creation of three unique Singaporean institutions

These three institutions are unique to Singapore. They are specifically adapted to our context and circumstances – and quite unlike any other constitution in the world. All three institutions were originally conceived by Mr Lee Kuan Yew, and all at around the same time.

Each had a clear purpose, which made sense for our context. The Elected President was to protect the reserves, which we had painstakingly accumulated over many years, from being squandered by an irresponsible government. It was also to safeguard the integrity of the Public Service through independent oversight over key public service appointments and processes. The GRCs were to ensure that Parliament would always have adequate representation of the minority races. The NCMPs were to ensure opposition voices were never shut out of Parliament, and to provide an outlet for the growing desire to have such voices in Parliament.

Each institution had to be carefully designed. After Mr Lee first mooted the ideas with his colleagues, they discussed extensively how exactly each should work. There were many disagreements; many possible models were suggested and discarded. These deliberations surfaced new and complex considerations, which had to be carefully examined, and where relevant, taken into the design. From conceptual idea to implemented scheme, the team revised their thinking quite significantly.

For example, Mr Lee had initially proposed vesting the Elected President with extensive executive powers, which could be used to check and overrule the Government of the day. He called this a “wicket-keeper” role, though it would have been a very powerful wicket-keeper. Some of the younger Ministers, including Dr Tony Tan and Mr Goh Chok Tong, worried that over-concentrating power in a single person could lead to political impasse and abuse of power. After intense arguments, it was eventually decided that the Elected President should have no executive powers at all, only custodial powers, which means the power to say no to government proposals, and even then only in specified key areas where checks and balances were particularly important.

When we finally amended the Constitution to institute the three schemes (in 1984 for the NCMPs, in 1988 for the GRCs and in 1991 for the Elected Presidency), their designs had been significantly altered from Mr Lee’s original conceptions.

And even after the schemes were implemented, we continued to evolve them in the light of experience.

So in their present form, each of these institutions is the end result of more than three decades of accumulated refinements and revisions. To extend Mr Lee’s vivid metaphor, these innovations are no longer recent alterations to our old shoes, but have themselves been stretched, softened, smoothed, and re-patched, to become essential parts of the whole.

Key points

This journey underscores a few key points.

Firstly, creating a constitution and laws that meet the specific needs and circumstances of the country is never a purely legal process. It demands a keen understanding of our society – its vulnerabilities, the likely problems, and the solutions to these problems that have the best chance of working. This requires political experience and judgment.

The men who created these three institutions were not scholars or philosophers. They were practical men − men who governed Singapore, and had spent decades creating this improbable nation, and making it work. They were acutely conscious of what made Singapore tick, where our faultlines were, and how very easily things could go wrong. They were not chasing ideological purity or conceptual tidiness, but what worked, and would benefit Singapore. They relied on their creativity and judgment to conceive and design institutions which were uniquely suited to our context, and which remedied real weaknesses in our political system.

Secondly, these constitutional innovations cannot be divorced from their contemporary political context, nor from the larger changes in Singapore’s demographics. For example, two decades after independence, a major demographic shift was underway. The pioneer generation that had run budget surpluses and built up our reserves was fading away. The next generation that would inherit the nest egg had not lived through the existential crises of the founding years. That motivated the search for ways to prevent a profligate government from squandering these reserves. And hence, the Elected Presidency. In the 1984 general election, some candidates used blatant racial appeals to win votes. That gave renewed urgency to ensuring multi-racial representation in Parliament. Mr Lee, as Jaya recounted just now, had been contemplating this problem since the 1970s. And GRCs were the solution to this enduring vulnerability. In the Anson by-election in 1981, an opposition candidate – Mr J. B. Jeyaretnam – won a parliamentary seat for the first time since independence. That cemented Mr Lee Kuan Yew’s conviction that we needed to create an outlet for a younger generation’s desire for opposition voices in Parliament. And having watched how Mr Jeyaretnam’s presence had sharpened Parliamentary debates, Mr Lee also concluded that having opposition MPs in Parliament would keep ruling party MPs on their toes. That led to the NCMP scheme.

Thirdly, however, in creating these institutions, Mr Lee and the younger ministers looked beyond the immediate circumstances. Their predominant concern was not the present, but the future. They sought to build a constitutional framework that would last – one they knew the younger ministers would have to operate; one that would bind future Governments, whether formed by the PAP or other parties. 

The three institutions have served us well

The true test of these three institutions was how they would work out in practice over the years and decades, and across successive governments. Having introduced these major constitutional changes, Mr Lee Kuan Yew and the 2G ministers faithfully subjected themselves to what they had created. Looking back now after nearly half a century, we can safely say that these three institutions have indeed served Singapore well.

Firstly, the Elected Presidency. Since its inception in 1991, successive governments and Elected Presidents have worked together to operate this system of checks and balances. We have continued to refine its detailed workings through periodic Constitutional amendments. But the core concept – that each elected government should spend within its means, and only draw on past reserves with the consent of the Elected President – remains unchanged. The second key mechanism has worked as intended. In normal times, political parties advocating more generous social spending have been forced to explain how they will fund their schemes, or to make the case for changing the rules to spend more from the reserves. In emergencies like the Global Financial Crisis and the Covid-19 pandemic, the government of the day has been able, with the approval of the Elected President, to draw on our past reserves to fund substantial emergency packages. This signified both the gravity of the situation, and the Government’s capacity to do whatever it takes to tackle the crisis, backed by the substantial reserves that we have built up. The Elected Presidency has fostered more prudent and sustainable attitudes towards state spending amongst all political parties, and the public too.

But the Elected Presidency is not a panacea. To effectively wield the second key, the Elected President must be equal to the heavy task, and must be convicted that that is his proper role and responsibility. But he also has to win popular support, in order to get elected in the first place. And as experience has shown us, it is not a given that voters in a Presidential Election will judge candidates solely on who is best qualified for the task, or who is most committed to fulfilling his custodial role. In an election, especially one decided by a nationwide popular vote, many other factors and considerations can influence the outcome.

Unfortunately, no mechanism, no matter how carefully designed, can give absolute assurance that only persons who are fit for the responsibilities stand for office, or are elected by voters, even for the highest office in the land. Therefore, Singaporeans not only need to understand the great harm that a rogue government can do to the country; they must also be very careful not to elect Presidents who will exceed their roles and responsi­bilities, and cause the system to malfunction. But on the whole, Singapore’s political system and long-term stability are much better served with the check and balance afforded by an Elected President than without.

Secondly, GRCs. Since the scheme’s inception in 1988, we have gradually increased the proportion of MPs elected from GRCs, while maintaining a proportion of Single-Member Constituencies (SMCs). Today, GRCs account for the majority of MPs in Parliament. It is no longer seriously doubted that GRCs have been necessary to ensure that minority races are always adequately represented in Parliament. Nor is there any question that the minority member of a GRC team enjoys the same mandate and political standing as his teammates. Importantly, the GRC scheme has also discouraged race-based politics. Parties that make overt racial appeals to one group risk losing support from other groups, as experience has shown. The GRC scheme has therefore contributed significantly to protecting and fostering multi-racial politics in Singapore.

Thirdly, the NCMP scheme. When first conceptualised, the primary motivation for having NCMPs was to prevent opposition voices from being completely shut out from Parliament. In that era, it was quite possible for the winning party to make a clean sweep at general elections. Four decades on, this is no longer a plausible scenario. Opposition MPs are routinely elected in general elections. But at the same time, the public’s expectations for more alternative voices in Parliament have also gone up. And the Government too, has found it useful for more alternative voices to be represented in Parliament, and to engage them in robust and open political debate. Over the years, we have gradually increased the minimum number of opposition members guaranteed by the NCMP scheme. From 3 in 1984, to 12 today – more than 10% of the total number of MPs in the house, and more than the 10 opposition MPs who were directly elected from constituencies in the 2025 general election. Hence there are currently two NCMPs topping up the opposition presence in Parliament. Opposition parties continue to claim to reject the NCMP scheme, but in reality after the 1984 general election they have never turned down any offer of an NCMP post. On the contrary, they have made full use of the NCMP scheme to raise the public profiles of narrowly-losing candidates, in the hope of improving their chances of winning outright in the next election, as has happened more than once. But this is par for the course.

In evaluating these three institutions, our overriding concern must always be, what is in Singapore’s long-term interests, and what will maintain a stable, well-functioning political system in Singapore. And from that point of view, I am happy that all three have worked out well in practice. The institutions that Mr Lee and his team created have stood the test of time.

The Book

I am very glad that Jaya has written this book, telling the inside story of these three institutions. He has been working on it for quite a while. He started more than 15 years ago, in 2011, when I was still PM, but had to put it aside due to other commitments. I am glad he resumed the work last year, with my encouragement, and has now completed the book. In hindsight, the hiatus was a good thing. The extra decade and a half afforded him a longer horizon – to study how the institutions worked, and to look back at their creation with more detachment and perspective.

Jaya’s vantage point on these events is unique. He was a key team member throughout the process of creating these laws. A professor of law before entering politics, his involvement and contributions went far beyond the legal aspects. He contributed considerably on the policy and political parts too – actively engaging in the detailed design, debating the pros and cons of different options. He had a deep institutional understanding of the workings of our Government and the political context. He came up with alternatives, analysed different possibilities objectively, and suggested many improvements. When opinions diverged, he patiently compared the conflicting viewpoints, reconciled them if possible, and proposed possible ways forward. Indeed, he was the key person keeping track of all the different strands, weaving them together and advancing the projects.

I was not yet in politics when the three laws were first conceived in 1981. I first learnt about the Elected Presidency idea listening to Mr Lee at the National Day Rally in 1984. But after I was elected, I became quite involved in the project. I worked closely with Jaya, especially in drafting the two White Papers and the legislation. I therefore took special pleasure in reading Jaya’s successive drafts of the book, and seeing it take shape.

This book is an important contribution to the legal and Constitutional history of Singapore. It is written by a professor of law, but it does not read like a legal tome. It tells the story plainly, in straightforward, accessible language. It brings alive the problems the team was trying to solve, and the trade-offs, intricacies and complications they had to consider. It sheds light on how the leadership team worked behind closed doors, how open they were to radical, out-of-the-box ideas, how intensely but objectively they argued with one another, how Mr Lee Kuan Yew, as Prime Minister, put forth his views robustly, yet repeatedly and indeed obsessively sought alternative perspectives. He was always willing to be persuaded to change his mind, and sometimes settled on a conclusion only after years of reflection and debate. It shows what it means for the Prime Minister to be primus inter pares (first among equals) in the Cabinet, and how Cabinet collective responsibility is meant to work.

In all these respects, Jaya’s book gives an authoritative yet accessible account of how Mr Lee’s team carried through the creation of these three institutions, and strengthened Singapore’s political system.

I thank Jaya for investing the time and effort to document the journey in this book, which I am distinctly honoured to launch today. May the stories, considerations and insights it contains benefit all its readers – lawyers and non-lawyers alike. Thank you very much and thank you Jaya.