Keywords

Introduction

According to the realist school of International Relations (IR), international relations and norms are deeply antinomic. For realists, the relationship between actors in global affairs relies on power and force rather than any sort of social contract. In Western political thinking, from Plautus and Pliny the Elder to Montaigne and Hobbes, “a man is a wolf to another man” (“Lupus est homo homini”)—although on the domestic stage, according to Hobbes “man to man is a kind of God”. Similarly, in China, Mozi (c. 468–381 BC) held that men are ontologically bad: they hate and cheat each other and “have no scruples to attack other states” (Mozi, 2008: 109; Reynaert, 2019: 27). This pessimistic view of man’s nature is at the roots of the realist school in IR, for which (military) power—rather than norms—is key.

Other IR schools, however, take norms into account. Three categories of norms can be distinguished. Some are formal, precise, and explicit; written in various sources of international law such as treaties or conventions. They help regulate the relationship between state and non-state actors on the international scene. Neoliberals push for them and for making them as binding as possible, mainly through cooperation and institutions. Above, at a slightly more strategic level, a broader definition of norms is applied: here they are less formal, not only strictly contractual or conventional, and bundled together with rules, habits, and processes. The idea of “regime” in IR, elaborated by Stephen Krasner, is a good example as it is defined by “principles, norms, rules, and decision-making procedures around which actor expectations converge in a given issue-area” (Krasner, 1982: 185). Norms are “seen as a standard of behaviours expected by peers who are part of the same group” (Pontbriand, 2010: 15). In case of misbehaviour, actors will not automatically be sanctioned, but can lose credibility or be expelled from the group. Last, for neorealists, international relations are also framed by paradigmatic norms, such as those which emerged in the wake of 1648 to lay the foundations of the so-called Westphalian system. Their goal is “to restrain the complexity of the world”, “to limit the intellectual work”, to “select the key perspectives” and, in short, after discussions and negotiations, to see what appears as “normal”, in peace and war times (Doja, 2013: 18; Fourez, 1998: 35).

The nature and the content of all these norms—legal rules and habits, which contribute to structuring international relation—is key to discussion about universalism versus regional specificities in general and Asia in particular (Acharya, 2017; Acharya & Buzan, 2010). For example, some stakeholders have highlighted the “ASEAN Way” to promote regionalism, based on musyawarah and mufakat (consultation and consensus), as opposed to European formalism (Acharya, 1999). Arguing for the existence of “Asian Values”, actors including Kishore Mahbubani have kept this culturalist argument alive after Lee Kuan Yew (1923–2015) in Singapore and Mahathir (b. 1925) in Malaysia (Mohamad, 1970; Zakaria, 1994; Thompson, this volume; Mahbubani, 2009, 2019, 2020).

Nowadays, the spectrum of norms advocated by different states has become a veritable battlefield. China has quickly become a frontrunner. Already in 1931, Paul Valéry (1971–1945) expected to see “two dozen Creusot, Essen, Manchester or Roubaix” in East Asia, the international significance of which would go beyond the economic dimension (Valéry, 1931: 55, 165, 170–171). About 80 years later, Mead ruled in Valéry’s favour when he saw Beijing as one of “weevils […] looking to hollow out the imposing edifice of American power”, before adding that if challengers to American power, including China, “can’t challenge the world system head on, they can chip away at its weak spots and, where the powers leave a door unlatched or a window open, they can make a quick move” (Mead, 2013). Larson and Saunders counter-argued by emphasising how countries including China have focused on their neighbourhood, and by recalling their concessions in various areas (Larison, 2013; Saunders, 2013). Moreover, Ikenberry held that “the existing world order [was] more stable and expansive than Mead [depicted], leading him to overestimate China and Russia”. For him, “China and Russia are not full-scale revisionist powers but part-time spoilers at best”—a “status quo-tidal power” in other words (Dobell, 2018; Ikenberry, 2014). There is no consensus among scholars of international relations on whether China should be described as “rogue”, “revisionist”, or “revolutionary”, or whether there has been a switch to a new “world system”, based on specific norms (Tenembaum, 2012). However, Xi’s ideology is quite clear. The President-Secretary-General seeks to change a minima of the rules of the “Great game”—but not the game itself. The concept of tianxia (“all under heaven” coexisting harmoniously) is used in this search for a Chinese model of world governance. According to François Gipouloux, commenting on how this concept is employed, “China intends to define rules and norms which could floor the Westphalian system” (Gipouloux, 2020; 555).

American think tanks and authors have reacted strongly to Xi’s position, during a period in which Washington needed a new enemy (Doshi, 2021; Jacques, 2012; Pillsbury, 2016). While some Western political scientists consider China as a pragmatic power, lacking normative or ideological concerns, Chinese thinkers maintain the Confucian roots of the BRI (Belt and Road Initiative). Some observers now expect “a strategic competition […] to shape a world consistent with authoritarian models” (Mattis, 2018: 4). In this tense Cold War 2.0 atmosphere, even the French Ministry for Europe and Foreign Affairs admitted in February 2021 that there was a “war of model and influence” vis-à-vis China, seen as a “systemic rival” by the European Union (Vie Publique, 2021).Footnote 1

How, then, does Beijing pursue this normative warfare? Recently, diplomats witnessed Chinese entryism in international organisations. Beijing applied to send Chinese directors to UN agencies, and installed officials in top posts in four of them. More generally, to promote new norms for a so-called “New World Order”, Beijing has launched “invisible wars”, based on Qiao and Wang’s work on “unrestricted warfare”: “who wants to win today’s wars, or those of tomorrow, must ‘combine’ all of the resources of war which he has at his disposal and use them as means to prosecute the war” (Gomart, 2021; Qiao & Wang, 2015 [1999]). This results in a “completely new method of warfare called modified combined war that goes beyond limits” completely new method of warfare that was called “modified combined war that goes beyond limits”. This view echoes Beaufre’s (1902–1975) 1939 idea of “Peace-War”. This latter concept is known today as “Grey Zone Tactics” or strategies, which refer to “hybrid threats, sharp power, political warfare, malign influence, irregular warfare, and modern deterrence” (Dalton et al., 2019).

In this vein, in parallel with military and paramilitary efforts, China makes political ones. The notion of “soft power” is too narrow to apply, as it does not sufficiently emphasise the economic dimension of power. The idea of “sharp power” is a better fit, emphasising efforts “to project … influence internationally, with the objectives of limiting free expression, spreading confusion, and distorting the political environment within democracies” (Walker, 2018: 10). Yet this projects a position that is aggressive rather than assertive. Arguably, “influence” is the most accurate term, which explains how it is increasingly used by researchers and policy-makers alike (Charillon, 2022; Charon & Jeangène Vilmer, 2021). Russel Hsiao writes: “the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) is increasingly utilising all levers of influence to achieve and secure its national objectives along its periphery and globally”. “To influence the perceptions, beliefs, and behaviors of other governments and societies”, Hsiao adds, “the CCP is employing political warfare” (Hsiao, 2019). This latter concept, “political warfare”, has been defined by Kennan as “the employment of all the means […] to achieve national objectives. Such operations are both overt and covert. They range from such overt actions as political alliances, economic measures […], ‘white’ propaganda, […], [and] ‘black’ psychological warfare” (Office of the Historian, 1948).

Having thus outlined the broader framework of normative contestation in international relations, I (or “the chapter”) will now proceed to focus on the case study of Singapore. With an ethnic composition of 74% ethnic Chinese, and as the first destination of China’s outward direct investments in ASEAN, Singapore might plausibly be one of the main targets of China’s increasing normative influence in Southeast Asia. According to the 2022 Pew Research Center, among 19 states surveyed, Singaporeans were found to have the most favourable opinion vis-à-vis China (67% favourable versus, for example, 12% and 19% in Japan and South Korea respectively). Likewise, 69% of Singaporeans would trust in Xi (versus 48% in Biden) (Silver et al., 2022). Despite strong links between Singapore and the US, Beijing already has solid bridgeheads in Merlion city. The two countries are linked by a free trade agreement since 2008,Footnote 2 and two-thirds of BRI projects in ASEAN are estimated to have been set up financially by Singaporean teams. For the CEO of Standard Chartered: “Singapore served as the financial resource pool cum magnet for companies engaged anywhere in the BRI” (Chong, 2019).

This chapter focuses on security, defined broadly to include both traditional state-centric security and non-traditional security. More precisely, it investigates whether Singapore’s political norms in foreign and security policy are subject to Chinese normative influence. Through which vectors can this normative influence be conveyed? Are Singaporean decision- and opinion makers tempted by Xi’s discourse? The answers to these questions will give useful clues for assessing whether the Chinese New World Order can “refuel” in Singapore.

Building on participant observations during seminars with Chinese colleagues, comments, op-eds and reports by Chinese scholars and diplomats, and rankings, it will be argued that despite multiple and diverse efforts from China, Singapore is not ready to engage Chinese norms in the diplomatic and security fields.

Chinese Levers of Power to Impose Norms on Singaporean Security

As a free-port and a former entrepôt, Singapore lies at the crossroads not only of the semestral monsoons, but also of different security norms. Led by brilliant leaders trained in the best American and British universities, Singapore has promoted and championed the post-WW2, Westphalian model, world order. Its diplomats have defended the rule of law, the conventional norms, like those negotiated and adopted in Montego Bay in the 1980s under the chairmanship of Tommy Koh, as the core of the law of the sea (Koh, 2020). The consecutive UN Convention on the Law of the Sea is still the key reference for Singapore on major maritime issues, such as the South China Sea disputes. In the same vein, at every opening session of the General Assembly, the Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong promotes the UN as the only way to address both traditional and non-traditional threats. In September 2022, he explicitly confirmed that Singapore relies on the “current world order”—and the norms which go with it.Footnote 3

At the same time, Singapore is classified as a “defective democracy”, an “illiberal democracy”, or a “hegemonic electoral authoritarian” regime (Merkel, 2004: 33; Mutalib, 2000: 313). This is manifest in security initiatives such as the Internal Security Act (ISA), which allows for the detention of suspects without trial, the Total Defence program, or the two-year National Service, for which the (academic) re-examination remains a taboo, and in punitive measures including canning and the death penalty (Ramakrishna, 2015).Footnote 4 Producing a feeling of an endless “state of emergency”, the government has been consistently referring to national “vulnerability” and security threats including virus, terrorists, mosquitoes, and drug traffickers, to justify high military expenditure, police operations and a repressive judiciary. Diplomatically, Singapore has shown ambiguity and a reluctance to “pick sides” so as to avoid clashes and disputes.

These national security concerns are transmitted by all levels of the administration, impacting on all layers of society (En, 2017). Might this opaque situation offer opportunities for Chinese political warriors? I (ideally, better not to use ‘I’) explore this in the following section, which studies possible targets (public opinion, public intellectuals, diplomats, and government) and possible interactions (between grassroots, opinion makers, and policy-makers).

Personal Links

Firstly, there are the personal ties between Singaporean leaders and China. Lee Kuan Yew, who called himself “Harry” when a law student at Cambridge, (re)discovered his Chinese roots in the 1990s (Barr, 2014; Barr & Skrbis, 2009). He perfected his Mandarin late, after previously having banned Chinese dialects in Singapore. During his last years, he was often seen wearing a blue Chinese jacket and posing with a statue of Confucius by his side. This champion of the “Asian values” also became an advisor to the Forbidden City. Already in 1985, Dr. Goh Keng Swee (1918–2010), former Deputy Prime Minister, father of the Singaporean army, had advised the Chinese on the economic development of China’s eastern coasts. Teo Chee Hean (born in 1954) was the co-chairman of the Joint Council for Bilateral Cooperation between the two countries. Minister of Defense from 2003 to 2011, then Minister for Home Affairs from 2011 to 2015, he still monitors security-related policies through his position as a minister-coordinator of sorts for National Security.

Academic Relationships

In addition to these personal links (“connections”? Not to repeat “links”?), there are links of academic nature. They are embodied in the history of the NTU (Nanyang Technological University). The term Nanyang itself refers to the Southeast Asian territories south of China, and was first used by ethnic Chinese migrants to Southeast Asia. NTU occupies the campus of the former Nanyang University, founded in 1955. Its merger with the University of Singapore in 1980, to create the National University of Singapore (NUS), sparked controversy because of the dilution of Chinese identity. The objective was to put an end to the Sinicisation of courses at the university. Nevertheless, the Chinese Heritage, the former administrative building of Nanyang University, has been renovated at NTU and provides a physical reminder of the roots of the campus. In an Australian study published in 2018, NTU was the university with the highest proportion of co-published articles between researchers and officers of the People’s Liberation Army of China (Joske, 2018: 9).

In the same vein, on campus, two institutes in particular illustrate this strong Chinese connection. In 2018, the university started a partnership to host the largest Confucius Institute in Southeast Asia: the CI-NTU. This initiative extends the “Speak Mandarin” campaign launched by the government in the 1970s, which has been repeated many times since. The Nanyang Centre for Public Administration (NCPA), secondly, embodies the Singaporean training offered to Asian civil servants in general and to Chinese ones in particular. Since 1992, 17,000 civil servants Chinese have benefited from this training (to be compared to merely 1000 Southeast Asians since 2011). The centre is recognised by China’s State Administration for Foreign Expert Affairs. The presence of former Singaporean ministers, ambassadors, senior civil servants and members of parliament among the adjunct speakers suggests the sensitive nature of the teaching offered there.

Think Tanks as a Diplomatic Vector

Think tanks are becoming a critical player globally, and especially in Singapore (McGann, 2020). Generally speaking, the local centres and institutes play as matchmakers (in line with their ambition to act as “honest brokers”) between Chinese and local academics and diplomats (Chua, 2014). Chinese players are invited to have a say about the world order—and its norms—within these first-class academic-diplomatic platforms.

Some platforms and events are more sensitive than others. The US Assistant Secretary of State for Politico-Military Affairs, René Clarke Cooper, warned in 2020 that China took advantage of the biennial Singapore Air Show to serve as a “platform for exploitation and theft”.Footnote 5 In 2017, as China and Singapore were experiencing tense relations, the Singaporean authorities decided to expel Huang Jing, a professor at the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy (LKYSPP), over accusations of being an “agent of influence of a foreign country”. China was commonly understood to have been targeted and indirectly accused. As a sequel, the Singaporean Dickson Yeo, a former Ph.D. student at the LKYSPP, was arrested and sentenced in the US in 2020 for acting as a foreign agent for China. Returning to Singapore, he was given a detention order for similar activities in Singapore, which was later suspended.Footnote 6

Media as a Diplomatic Channel

Collusion abounds between the Singaporean government and the media. Lee Boon Yang, head of the SPH group (Singapore Press Holdings), was Minister from 1991 to 2009. Before him, two future Presidents of the Republic held this position. Similarly, the former CEO of SPH, Alan Chan, was a close assistant of Lee Kuan Yew. He was replaced in 2017 by an ex-general without any experience in media: Ng Yat Chung. This extract from WikiLeaks quotes the chief of the Straits Times bureau in Washington as saying that: “editors have all been groomed as pro-government supporters and are careful to ensure that reporting of local events adheres closely to the official line”.Footnote 7

The Straits Times appears as one out of many diplomatic vectors or channels. It is therefore interesting to note that the newspaper sought the opinion of Lau Siu Kai, vice-president of the Beijing-based Chinese Association of Hong Kong and Macau Studies, to comment on events in Hong Kong in 2020. This association distinguishes itself from the British Hong Kong Studies Association or the Society for Hong Kong Studies. Lau Siu Kai was appointed delegate of the Chinese People’s Political Advisory Conference in 2003.

The Singaporean press regularly publishes op-eds by Zhou Bo, introduced as the “director of the Center for Security Cooperation in the Chinese Ministry of National Defence’s Office for International Military Cooperation and honorary fellow of the Chinese Academy of Military Science” (Choong, 2020). In this way, similar to the universities and think tanks discussed above, media serve as facilitators or amplifiers of (English-language) Chinese thought.

Interference and Propaganda

“Roots-seeking camps” have been organised for the Chinese in Singapore. These are people-to-people exchanges, whereby young Singaporeans of ethnic Chinese origin can visit China (Qin, 2018). It took an op-ed by the Chinese ambassador to Singapore to calm worried Singaporeans.Footnote 8

Internet testimonies have reported attempts of a pro-Chinese radicalisation of sorts. Though caution is necessary, these testimonies are considered credible by some specialists on China. One son was quoted as saying: “[My father] has gained a new habit that scares me. Every night […], he plays a series of videos about China. They are usually either videos with robot voices, or videos with a human talking angrily” (Reddit, 2020).

The wide range of efforts by China to disseminate its political norms is incontestable. But Singapore is not an easy target: the country takes great care to maintain its own identity, its own norms, and its own view of the world order in terms of security.

The Singaporean Response to Chinese Political Warfare

Arguably, Singapore is more autonomous from Chinese influence than could be expected from the above. In the fight against the Covid-19 pandemic, the country did not exclusively follow the Chinese way, at a difference from neighbours such as Indonesia that were part of Beijing’s “vaccine diplomacy”—and consequently under Chinese pressure (Frécon, 2019). In June 2021, despite a timid opening, Sinovac remained “unregistered” in Singapore, and “not authorised by the Health Sciences Authority (HSA) for use under the Pandemic Special Access Route”.Footnote 9 Furthermore, the government, at first, did not want to force the downloading of tracking applications. Later, it strove to explain that tracers, distributed to the population to avoid contact and possible spread of the virus, did not contain GPS. Although the tracing ultimately was comprehensive and permanent, the government at least sought to give pledges not to appear as strict and intrusive. At the end of 2020, as another sign of the changing times, the government even had to explain its measures to parliament. Pushed to its limits, particularly by civil society, it reviewed the legislation to specify the conditions under which data could be used by the police. In 2022, while Beijing imposed a lockdown in Shanghai, Singapore stopped the obligation to wear a mask outside, despite new cases in the country. (New paragraph, to make the two - or three - case studies more obvious?) Similarly, concerning Singapore’s 5G network, Singapore has not attempted to open the door to Huawei. Although Chinese mobiles are very popular and that queues never end in front of Huawei stores, the government has decided not to opt for Huawei as part of the implementation of 5G.Footnote 10

Nowadays, attention is mainly focused on the installation of Chinese fin tech (financial technology) or social network companies. Tencent and Alibaba are increasing their presence in Singapore and the owner of TikTok (ByteDance) plans to decouple activities between China and outside, in a stable and reliable Singaporean context. These activities generate data and carry with them technologies of social tracing. As with the BRI, the idea for these companies is to decrease cost by setting up in Singapore.Footnote 11 TikTok also stores data in Singapore. At some point, fear eventually rose in Singapore:

Although there is no evidence of a systematic expansion of China’s social credit system beyond its borders, there is concern, as CSIS’ Jim Lewis observes, that the Chinese may in time extra-territorialise their surveillance state, leveraging on global deployments of surveillance technology by companies such as Hikvision. […] Should policymakers dismiss the risk, society may over the long-term be shaped by repeated applications of messages that are near-subliminal. This may lead to the balkanisation of thinking across different groups who are exposed to particular media. (Jayakumar & Harjani, 2020)

In reaction, the authorities have not remained passive but have questioned themselves, especially since Google and Facebook have also installed their data centres in Singapore. In a (or “the above-mentioned”?) commentary published by RSIS, Shashi Jayakumar, in charge of CENS (Centre of Excellence for National Security), made a point of recalling that it was, in no way, a question of sacrificing Singapore’s sovereignty or national security (Jayakumar & Harjani, 2020). Chinese law does not apply to stored data in Singapore. Moreover, national committees which oversee and monitor digital and information security in Singapore already exist, namely the National Security Coordinating Committee and the Security Policy Review Committee.

Thus, whether on the health or cyber security fronts, China does not appear to be considered either as Singapore’s panacea, or norm provider.

From an Asymmetrical Relationship to Symmetrical Partnerships

Singapore has clearly distanced itself from Beijing, at all levels including that of the government. Admittedly, Singapore advocates an inclusive regional diplomacy and seeks to maintain dialogue with Beijing. Singapore was particularly discreet during the exchanges of diplomatic notes with China over the South China Sea dispute during the summer of 2020.

However, this does not suggest a mechanical rapprochement with Beijing. Since the 2018 Shangri-La Dialogue, Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong has been explicit and consistent in his speeches, and, as Singaporeans say, “double-confirmed” his position in Foreign Affairs in June 2020 (Loong, 2020). For the Prime Minister, the worst would be a region divided into two spheres of influence in which Singapore would be obliged to choose a sideFootnote 12 (Choong, 2021; Kausikan, 2019a, 2019b; Tay, 2021).

Singapore made what China perceived to be several diplomatic slights in 2016. Beijing’s response was not long in coming. In December 2016, Singaporean Terrex armoured personnel carriers were confiscated during a stopover in Hong Kong, returning from training in Taiwan.Footnote 13 Following this incident, Prime Minister Lee insisted on the specificities of the Singaporean Chinese culture, setting it apart from that of China proper (Salleh, 2017). It is in this context that the Singapore Chinese Cultural Center (SCCC) to promote Singaporean Chinese culture, and to designate its champions, should be understood (China Cultural Center, 2015). The SCCC was inaugurated by Lee Hsien Loong himself in 2017, at the height of the tensions with Beijing.

Besides the inner circle of leaders, more and more former senior diplomats criticise China without hesitation. Following the outspoken stance of diplomat Tommy Koh, his colleague Bilahari Kausikan, ambassador-at-large, went even further. Nicknamed the “non-diplomatic diplomat”, he had vilified Chinese interference in Singaporean society, and written a book with the evocative title: China is Messing with Your Mind (Kausikan, 2019a, 2019b).Footnote 14 In 2020, Bilahari, at a seminar at ISEAS, quite curtly requested Cambodia and Laos to choose between their allegiance to China and their ASEAN membership.Footnote 15 Phnom Penh’s reaction was not long in coming, in the form of an anonymous letter in a national newspaper. The ambassador was accused, together with the host think tank, of playing as a “lone wolf” and as an “agent” for foreign powers. An analysis of guests at the Asia–Pacific Programme for Senior Military Officers, organised by the S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies (RSIS), reveals that no Chinese were invited in 2018 and 2019, while there were still three colonels or navy captains in 2016 and 2017, and some representatives again in 2021 (RSIS, 2020). The brief absence in this forum raises questions.

Conclusion

Singapore’s diplomatic stance raises questions (or “can puzzle analysts” not to repeat “raises questions”?). It often seems to be pro-American and supportive of Western liberal democratic norms; it is sometimes suspected of being pro-Chinese and nostalgic of “Asian values”; while at the same time, due to the vulnerability that characterises all microstates, it might be expected to be neutral (Goh, 2006). The activities of the government show complex and entangled links with China, especially in the security sphere.

Today, the generation of Singaporean leaders, who have long been accustomed to the postcolonial tutelage of the West or tempted to follow and accompany the rise of China, are passing the relay. De facto, new priorities are emerging. Winds and threats are changing: security is now less about a war against terrorism, and more about environmental (smoke from Indonesian forest fires, floods, rising waters), health (Covid and dengue, which has never hit as hard as in 2020), community (nation building in a multiracial context) and food (water and even chicken supplies) securities. Singapore intends to work through the usual multilateral fora or via the new minilateral cooperations with its nearby neighbours, without China.

These trends do not correspond to the paradigm elaborated in 2010 by Xi Jinping, his “Chinese dream”, to build a new world order under China’s aegis (Gipouloux, 2020: 561). In the wake of the growing distance of diplomats and elites from Beijing, these policy moves rather tend towards the idea of “human security”, a United Nations normative regime (United Nations Development Programme, 1994).