extracted from ST forum.
Wrong to roll out red carpet for draft dodger
I used to adopt an attitude of benign neutrality towards the arts
and would smile as musicians and painters indulged in their
pastimes while I enjoyed my sports.
But developments in the Melvyn Tan saga, in particular, the
statement by Ms Michelle Yeo, the Esplanade's programming officer,
may change my stance from neutrality to contempt.
Ms Yeo said the Esplanade was 'saddened by Melvyn's decision (to
cancel his concert)', which would have been 'a treat for music
lovers'. The Esplanade and the National Arts Council both said they
understood and respected his decision.
All forms of art appeal to the soul. They are about sensitivity,
emotion and values. Is the management of the Esplanade sad that its
halls will be empty that night and that its regular patrons will
miss an evening of enjoyment?
Can it not sense the outrage of the thousands of men who griped and
grumbled but reported dutifully for national service? And does it
place such little value on character, duty and nation
building?
Letter writers have lambasted the Ministry of Defence (Mindef) for
not doing enough. But the fault may not lie there; those who run
the arts scene here must share the blame for rolling out the red
carpet for a national service defaulter.
Mindef officials can only work within the constraints of the law.
And for all we know, that law might have been drafted almost 40
years ago. Then, national service was new, and a $5,000 penalty
represented a full year's pay for a second lieutenant.
Defence Minister Teo Chee Hean has hinted that things may change at
the next sitting of Parliament. I look forward to that.
Not too long ago, Singapore was embroiled in a heated discussion on
the difference between an elite and elitism. The official stance
was that we needed an elite to lead people forward. But this elite
must lead by example, never forgetting its responsibilities and,
most importantly, never hiding behind elitism as an excuse to shirk
its duties.
This message seems to have been missed by the National Arts
Council, which invited Mr Tan to judge an important competition. As
competitors naturally look up to the judges, would others feel that
his example is worth emulating?
Would they think it all right to default on duty to further one's
career, and would they expect that all should be forgiven?
I do not think any of us will be so uncharitable as to slam the
door on Mr Tan if or when he comes back. But I would like him, and
those who use the arts as an excuse for evading the harsher aspects
of everyday life, to remember that if the majority of us had not
been soldiers, there might not even be an Esplanade or, for that
matter, Singapore for him to perform in.
Lee Chiu San