Marcus Ng and Yu-mei Balasinghamchow were the curators of Balik Pulau: Stories from Singapore’s Islands, exhibited at the National Museum of Singapore in 2014. They share their views on the exhibition as well as a deeper understanding on Singapore’s relationship with these islands in the south.
Share with us the aim of the exhibition and some of your experiences from ‘Balik Pulau’.
Yu-Mei Balasinghamchow (YM): Most people think of Singapore as a main island in isolation. In a lot of maps that we see, it is always in isolation. You think of Singapore as a city – not really as an island. We try to bring back the sense that there are islands that serve as stepping stone between us and Indonesia and us and Malaysia. We are not that far away.
For most of the public, a lot of their reactions were, “Oh I didn’t know this,” about these islands. And that there were so many islands and the communities there.
Marcus Ng (MN): Within the island communities, what I can gather from the oral histories, on their respective islands, they had a strong island identity. They would call themselves as the Orang Bugis, Orang Seking or Orang Sekijang. The familial and social links that they had were very strong. Every year, they would have the kolek and jong races. For marriage purposes, it is much easier for islanders to marry each other than to have someone from the main island – who was not used to living on the island itself.
YM: In terms of researching for this exhibition, the hard part, for some of the islands, you really could not find anything. They were cleared many years ago, such as Pulau Semakau which was cleared in the early 1970s. In other cases, some islands were not inhabited in the past. All the more there was no reason for anyone to have ever written anything about them.
MN: We wanted to get people to think of Singapore, not so much as an island nation but a nation of islands.
You think of Singapore as a city – not really as an island.
Yu-Mei Balasinghamchow, writer
Let’s narrow it down a little. How would you define the Southern Islands?
MN: Physically and politically, they represent the southernmost maritime boundary of the nation. Though Singapore is an island, it does not feel like an island because it is too dense, too crowded and the horizon is clogged up by urbanity.
Traveling to the islands, you move into a space where you feel vulnerable. You are surrounded by the elements you can’t control. Only when you go out, you can really get the sense that you are literally an island nation.
The islands beyond were literally their own hinterland and places they went to for their livelihood.
Marcus Ng, independent researcher
What is the relationship of the Southern Islands to the region and the main island of Singapore?
MN: In a way, I wanted to turn over the old analogy that Singapore has no hinterland. But I would say that the islands, in some way, represent Singapore’s hinterland. When you expand out to look beyond the main island’s shores, you see that it is actually a landscape that is very much dependent on the seas around it – to the people who were living on the southern islands till the 1970s.
For them, they hold the Straits of Singapore before independence and the whole of the Malay archipelago beyond it. The islands beyond were literally their own hinterland and places they went to for their livelihood. There were ties involving family, ties involving historical lineages where connections to the old Sultanate of Riau-Johore linger. It was an open space, a landscape where current borders and boundaries fade away.
There were also connections between the islands and other islands south of Singapore. For example, in the 1970s and 1980s, Pulau Seking was a highly vibrant community. They took pains to distinguish themselves. There were the original Seking islanders who have been there since the 19th century or earlier. Then you have the Orang Baru, people who have moved to Seking in the 20th century – they were not the original islanders but were ethnically Malay.
The original Seking islanders claim descent from the islanders of Pulau Penyengat, between Batam and Bintan – with strong links to the old Sultans of Johore-Riau. And they claim an ancient allegiance, that went back to the 16th century, when the Sultans ruled that area. It was something that was strongly held within their oral and culture traditions.
From a historical perspective, how important were these islands to Singapore and the region?
MN: European explorer Jacque the Coutre wrote in the 1600s, when he was traveling through the old Straits of Singapore, where he encountered a lot of the sea people living there. And these were people who were under the overlordship of the Johore Sultans and presumably the Malaccan Sultans. They were numerous enough to form the backbone of the Sultan’s navy in a time when they were fighting the Portuguese, Dutch and the Siamese. This area was not an abandoned backwater. It is becoming much clearer, even when Malacca was at the height of its power, the Southern Islands was a very well-populated and well-known area to the locals.
Through the perspective of the Europeans – those traveling between India and China – these islands became vital landmarks. Do note that beyond the south are the Riau Islands – in the thousands and are tough to navigate. Hence Singapore’s islands, because of their position – relative to the main island and the Straits – become maritime landmarks. That’s why names like Sekijang and Blakang Mati appeared in maps from the 16th and 17th century. You can take a look at the Eredia Map of 1602, written in Portuguese.
YM: Jacque the Couture suggested having a fort at Pulau Blakang Mati in the 1600s to the Portuguese crown because of its strategic location. That way, it could control the Straits to protect their ships. If that had happened, Singapore’s history would have been Portuguese.
With regard to displacement, it seems that the window of time given for islanders to know that an island is targeted for development is short and uncertain. Sometimes, plans also change.
Yu-Mei Balasinghamchow, writer
MN: The first instance of island displacement was at Pulau Semulun, which appears in an old Dondang Sayang song. In the early 1960s, the place made way for shipyards. At that time, the authorities shifted the islanders to a nearby island and even built them new houses.
Later on in the 1960s and 1970s, the western part of Singapore was turned into a huge industrial zone. It was like a slow juggernaut. At different points, one island after another would get swallowed up: Damar Laut, Ayer Merbau, Merlimau and Ayer Chawan. From an economic perspective, it made sense. For example, petrochemicals and other dangerous products, it was safer to put them on an island. As it was near the Jurong industrial area, for a planner, it was an ideal spot.
With regard to displacement, it seems that the window of time given for islanders to know that an island is targeted for development is short and uncertain. Sometimes, plans also change. For example in 1976, Pulau Semakau islanders were told to move out within a year to make way for shipyard industries. But in the end, the island was left alone for more than 20 years. And interviews with former islanders, they lament: “Why did they have to tell us to go and leave the island?”
YM: From our exhibition, there were people who engaged with the content quite deeply and learned about the resettlement asked: Why do we have to move people this way? They asked if we still have to urban plan this way even till today?
You have to take Rochor Centre; you have to demolish a kampong to build high rise flats. They see parallels between how the islanders were treated and what kind of so-called development followed – some positive and some slightly dodgy.
On the main island, many people have been moved around – some of them forcefully relocated. I think a lot of people – whether they are conscious of it or not – have this discomfort, when you hear that someone has been forced to move – whether from the island to main island or from HDB to a so-called upgraded deal.
Our exhibition didn’t purposely set out to prompt that response. But we think it is because of the stories from the former islanders that beg the question. They were at the front line of development in the 1960s and 70s – planning, manipulation of population and how we use the land and sea. And this is still going on today. Hence people are asking: Is there a better way to run a country or care for your citizens?
Do you have to move people so arbitrarily?
How different would the islands be if you were to plan for them in the future?
YM: If you were to leave the Southern Islands as sort of a leisure area, it would be nice if it was less landscaped and less beautified. The sad thing about St John’s and Kusu Island is how much they have changed by all the reclamation – build one thing here and put a turtle pond there.
Under Sentosa Development Corporation, their job is to make things more touristy. We don’t need another theme park in Singapore. Sentosa is enough. The development could go in a more naturalistic direction.
The thing is, people are afraid that Pulau Ubin will be turned into a park. Our parks are nice but they are a bit fake. People are looking for something a bit wilder – not the kind of space where you take your dog for a walk or cycle. An example could be Chek Jawa, where you respectfully observe rather than you do your cross-island hiking or cycling adventure.
MN: The simplest way to look at it is this: once you step on a boat, and you go out, it is all space. It is feeling you can’t get on main island. People like that sense of space, and once they discover that, it becomes quite addictive.
What has changed even from the 1990s, at this point, if you have any major initiative or plan, where it is public or private and to do with the islands, is the response and what the public will make of it now. It will be different and much more vocal contestation, as compared to the 1990s when the decision for Pulau Seking was more unilateral. Or at least it will be a push-pull or give and take scenario.
The simplest way to look at it is this: once you step on a boat, and you go out, it is all space.
Marcus Ng, independent researcher
From top: Sentosa (Pulau Blakang Mati), Pulau Brani, Pulau Semakau, Kusu Island