Familiar story

For anyone who thinks that Australia's problems are different from the US, the debt story is identical. The only thing that differs is the source of revenue. Australia's economy is totally commodity-driven: coal, iron, and agriculture. So when prices drop, the Government has to act in a panic . The US' much broader-based economy cushions such blows. This year's Midwest drought will cause some food prices to go up 5% or so, according to Bloomberg agricultural reporter Alan Bjerga. That will hurt US exports a little. No one is suggesting government budget cuts as a result.

Of course, maybe they should.

An Aussie's reaction

A very good Aussie friend provided this thoughtful reflection on the asylum-seeker post:

"Gordon, there's a lot more to this story than appears on the surface. The previous Govt did introduce the things you're talking about, for very different reasons than are stated I might add, but they are also the ones who built the platform of fear from which the average Australian sees these refugees. Before that, they were rescued if necessary but otherwise brought straight to the mainland onto Australian soil. The fear took care of that as an option and this bastard policy was introduced to keep them offshore. A friend of mine worked for years in health issues in the relocation centres and others worked on education, aid, relocation and on the military side - rescue and return. The politics and wrongheadedness of the situation is a lot more complex than it appears to be. No matter what they do it's a no-win. But there are other Govts and aid and refugee organisations that also need to come in for a share of the blame - not that any of that helps the poor buggers on the boats."

The tragedy of the asylum-seekers

People fleeing political persecution, war, and religious strife look for nations that will offer them a better life. Australia is one of those nations, and it is committed to offering humanitarian refuge to such people. Here is an article describing the preparation of a processing center for such refugees . But the back story is littered with incompetence, intransigence, and death. As a recent arrival in Australia, I can give only my flawed impression of the history, and of recent events. It is not a positive impression.

A large number of asylum-seekers are from Afghanistan and Iran, where danger, religious persecution and turmoil abound. Australia had committed to the UN High Commissioner for Refugees that they would accept a significant number of at-risk refugees. The UNHCR process was time consuming. To circumvent this, years ago asylum-seekers started attempting to resettle in Australia by crossing the ocean on boats from Indonesia.

Relationships between Indonesia and Australia were perhaps not the best, so the Indonesians were doing little to stop this traffic. The previous government had put in place several measures to try to stem this human tide, not because Australia could not accept the volume of immigrants, but because the boat voyages were so dangerous. Processing stations for asylum-seekers were erected in neighboring nations, such as Nauru and Papua New Guinea. The Australian Navy would force boats to return to Indonesia, if safety permitted. There was a "no-advantage" situation: you could gain asylum in Australia no more quickly if you came by boat than if you went through the normal waiting period for a grant of asylum. With these measures, the boat traffic was reduced to a trickle.

However, life in the offshore processing centers was not pleasant. They are essentially on the equator, so the heat and humidity must have been stifling. There is an awareness that significant mental health problems arose.


The present government had flailed this "inhumane policy" as one of its campaign issues. Shortly after taking power (2008, I believe), the offshore processing centers were closed, and the effort to turn boats back was discontinued. The people-smugglers were back in business--including encouraging their "customers" to destroy their passports before being rescued. So who is really in danger in their home country, and who merely an opportunist?

To maximize profit, of course, people-smugglers board as many people per boat as possible. More than the boat can safely hold, to be sure. Between 2008 and this year, over one thousand people drowned attempting to reach Australia, which includes its far-flung possession Christmas Island.

Does the "inhumane policy" start to look a little less so?

The drownings also happened to come in large batches--so they were newsworthy. Late last year, the government's Immigration Minister recommended to the cabinet that the old policies be reinstated. However, the paper that was the basis for the new government's "more humane approach" was "substantially authored" by the current Prime Minister. So, not gonna happen. The drownings continued. The official tally of deaths since the Immigration Minister was rolled is 338.

A few months ago, the Government's embarrassment became unbearable. It appointed a three-member expert panel to decide what it itself was incapable of. Unsurprisingly, the panel recommended policies that had worked in the past. The offshore processing centers are now being reopened. Australia is increasing the number of refugees per year that it will accept. And once again there will be a "no-advantage" policy (although the expert panel balked at turning the boats back.)

Some people believe that even the restored "inhumane" measures won't work, because the Government has shown itself to be a "soft touch." Certainly, without interdiction at sea, it would seem so. However, there is a new countermeasure to naval interdiction. Reports are that the smugglers drill holes in their boats, and then cork them. When the Royal Australian Navy shows up, the corks are pulled, the boats start to sink, and no choice remains but to rescue them. Once again, however, the asylum-seekers will be delivered to the offshore centers.

Maybe. The first link said that the capacity of the Nauru center "will be 500 by September." And how many people have arrived by boat in 2012? Over eight thousand.

My prediction: more inhumanity, more death, and more government indecision. So sad for Australia.

You can read a statement by the Prime Minister here .

UPDATE: the deaths continue , new policy or no.

The misfortune of the original peoples

As an American, it is hard to cast stones about the status of original peoples. The historical treatment of Native Americans was far more brutal than anything suffered by the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people of Australia.

But a multitude of recent news articles have starkly described today's aboriginals as living in squalor and misery . Youth are apparently at risk of "petrol sniffing." Charities attempt to address low rates of indigenous literacy, and high rates of indigenous suicide. Billboards promoting work for indigenous literacy are popping up all around Sydney. It's no picnic to live on a reservation in America, either, but conditions in aboriginal communities are shocking.

I first tuned into this while reading an article in the local sports pages. A big young aboriginal man, a superb rugby player, had been recruited onto one of the national teams. The article described his origins and his new life in detail. It showed his big smile absent the left front tooth, which is traditionally knocked out as an initiation rite. Then it was mentioned that the athlete had to teach some Pinjinjantjari words to his teammates because he could not speak English. That was an eye-opener.

More recently, I watched a documentary about the life of the aboriginal singer Gurrumul, who has an international following. His difficulty in integrating into modern society was acute, and he is a success only because of the heroic efforts of his producer/accompanist. True, Gurrumul's challenges were more difficult because he is blind, but I had the sense that tremendous obstacles would have stood in his way even if he had been sighted.

The sorry state of Australia's original peoples stands in stark contrast to the Maori of New Zealand. Maori have some separated communities and special buildings called marae, but their English is perfect and they are full participants in New Zealand society and economy. When we met the keeper of a marae in Christchurch, we were honored to be given an extended explanation of the marae's function, history and design. Our guide's English was perfect. Same for a Maori museum docent in Oamaru.

I hope to learn more about the Australian aboriginal situation, and what is being done to make a genuine improvement. Some excellent services are provided, such as the Royal Flying Doctor Service, which mitigates the lack of high quality medical care at distant communities. Much else has evidently been lip service and half-measures. One wonders what aboriginal people themselves would like to see happen, and how well that has been communicated to the rest of Australia.

During the Olympics, one particular commercial was aired over and over . It showed a teenage white Australian girl on a farm, training herself to run. She had scratched a track into the middle of a stubbled corn field. As she ran, a background sound track replayed the final moments of a race, which I later learned was from the 2000 Sydney games. As the young girl finished her training run, a smiling aboriginal woman appeared from out of nowhere to greet her. The woman was unnamed in the commercial; but evidently she needed no introduction in Australia. Knowing who she is now, I love that commercial. Reviving Cathy Freeman's triumph in the 400m as a message of inspiration for young people was a beautiful way of honoring her legacy. I hope that that sentiment sparks Australian efforts to work together with the aboriginal population to establish a decent environment for them.

Blown away by Singapore

Singapore--a little jewel, an oasis of prosperity amidst the squalor of Malaysia and Indonesia, an Asian Tiger, a benevolent dictatorship beloved by democracies, the Shopping Mall of Asia. Whenever I think back on our ten days there, it's always, "Singapore. Wow." 

FIRST IMPRESSIONS

It begins to make an impression even before you arrive. If you are fortunate enough to fly in on Singapore Airlines, you are treated to the elegant, slender, colorful sarongs of the beautiful flight attendants. The Asian cuisine on the plane is delicious. Service is more attentive than on other airlines. Then you fill out your Singapore immigration card, and are jarred by the red-letter message at the bottom: "WARNING: DEATH TO DRUG DEALERS." 

It turns out that that pre-arrival juxtaposition of beauty and harshness is an apt metaphor for the Singapore experience. The beauty is always in sight; the harshness is less visible, but stems from Singapore's insistence on order and efficiency, from the eternal temptations of corruption, drugs and gambling, and from a tenuous geopolitical situation amid much more populous rivals.

We were traveling so my wife could assist one of her employees. He, a Singapore native, had transferred back after 20 years in Australia. We talked extensively about his impressions, the changes since his childhood, his present likes and dislikes. Another useful source was the cabbies: intelligent, well-spoken. All Singapore cabbies are Singaporean. Immigrants need not apply. Like all Singaporeans, my cabbies were of Chinese, Malay, or Indian ethnicity, with tolerable accents, and their pride in their country was unlike any I've experienced in any other country. I read the Straits Times every day, my main source for economic and international relations information, but also for the local stories that made the place more human. I attended the Singapore International Water Week expo, and learned about Singapore’s brilliant investments in its infrastructure. A trip through the history section of the Singapore National Museum gave me the basics of Singaporean history from tribal days to the present. Finally, my meanderings as a tourist left their own impression. 

Grabbing a cab at the airport, I started peppering the cabbie with questions right away. My first question was about water: it's an island surrounded by salt water, with no room for agriculture. Where does the water come from? "When we became independent, we had only three reservoirs. Now we have ten. There is also an inflatable dam that has turned one of our bays from salt water to fresh. This means that we no longer have to import water from Malaysia." It turns out he was mistaken about that; Singapore still gets 40% of its water from Malaysia, but several water works have been turned over by Singapore to the Malaysian government, and Singapore hopes to be water-independent in 40 years or so. They collect rainwater, and you get fined if you wash your car and let the runoff go into the drains. They desalinate. They purify waste water. Water is success, and survival.

On another cab ride, driving through the Orchard Road shopping district, I asked about real estate prices. "Do you see that building, the Ion Building? A flat there costs $5,000 a square foot." I was sure he meant per square meter, but he was right. A small apartment there, and in many of the upscale high rises, cost five million dollars. Of course, those aren't for ordinary mortals. But in the paper, I saw an extensive real estate listing for where the locals live, and no property was less than $700 a square foot. Most Singaporeans own their places, rentals are rare; the lowest price I heard, and this was for a government-built place, was $300,000. Building projects go on 12 hours a day, seven days a week; this includes both commercial construction projects (an apartment building across the street from our room) and public works (water projects, the new Marina Coast Highway). You cannot turn around without seeing building cranes.

AN ECONOMIC CORNUCOPIA

What is driving this boom? In my wife’s words, Singapore is “one big cash-making machine.” Obviously, one source of the wealth is the strategic Singapore Strait. If a ship going from the Indian Ocean to China bypasses it, at least a thousand miles are added to the journey. My first view of the Strait, just after sunset, was breathtaking. The horizon was bejewelled with the lights of ships. I have seen masses of ships in many ports, but never so many in one place as those at anchor and transiting the Strait. Capitalizing on that volume, Singapore’s port has grown so that its throughput now exceeds Hong Kong’s. Other pillars of the economy include oil refining (shortening the trips for the supertankers, tankers headed for China and Japan can now carry refined products instead of crude); semiconductor manufacturing (4th largest output in the world, the industry that has bootstrapped so many Asian Tigers); and, of course, tourism. 

AN OBEDIENT SOCIETY

Orchard Road gleams, and it bustles day and night. All of Asia shops there, because the government diligently patrols for counterfeiters--if a Japanese tourist buys a Rolex there, she can be sure it's a Rolex. It's part of the social compact: lots of rules and regulations, but if everyone follows them, everyone will become very well off. It seems to work. There's a rule against chewing gum; and in fact there is no chewing gum stuck to the sidewalks. Pedestrians and cars stop and go when they're supposed to. To own a car in Singapore, you have to buy a permit over and above the price of the car. The permit costs $50,000. And there are plenty of cars. NICE cars. And the city is just generally beautiful. The label "Garden City" is totally appropriate, and not just in the lovely Botanic Gardens.

Singaporeans acknowledge their own limitations. Our magnificent hotel, the Marina Bay Sands, included a casino, whose gross revenues in 2011 were S$2.3 billion. To get into the casino, you have to bring your passport. And if you happen to be Singaporean, it's a $100 entrance fee, thank you very much. When I asked why, the cabbie said, "Because we are gambling addicts." It's the same story with the "death to drug dealers" warning: Singapore knows how drug addiction had hobbled their society in colonial days, and it is determined to prevent that happening again. One convicted drug dealer was shown clemency by the judge: he was allowed to touch his mother's hand before they hung him. Lesser crimes are punished by caning. I said to our Singaporean friend, "Well, it's cheaper than prison," to which he replied, "It's and, not or." A news story on a gang knifing spelled out the sentences for those convicted, and said, "They are also liable for caning."  I would think that caning would reduce recidivism to negligible levels, although I have no statistics.

SINGAPORE'S PLACE IN THE WORLD

The social compact, which accepts such a highly regulated society, and the rise of Singapore from third world to one of the world's most prosperous nations, are intimately related, and apparently the vision of the first Prime Minister, Lee Kuan Yew. His biography is amazing, as far back as his Double First at Cambridge. On government websites, he is still referred to as Minister Mentor. He wept when union with Malaysia broke down in 1965; it is clear who is weeping now.  

Driving down Napier Road toward our hotel, the 6-story U.S. Embassy made an imposing sight. Not particularly an attractive building, although with some Oriental features, there is a 10-foot bas relief Great Seal out front. The visual impression is, "The United States of America thinks that its relationship with Singapore is important." The Chinese Embassy, actually a larger complex, is around the corner and appears insubstantial from the road. How Chinese. The British High Council is between them.

In addition to having powerful friends, Singapore has an ass-kicking military out of all proportion to its small population and size--six submarines, six of the most advanced stealth frigates, more F-15s and F-16s than you can imagine. Recently the US has home-ported its two Littoral Combat Ships in Singapore. I got to walk past a detachment of Singapore Special Operations Forces as they executed an impromptu patrol in front of the U.S. Embassy. They did not smile. They did not look like people to try and make smile. Singapore is 4 million secular capitalists surrounded by 100 million Muslims.

While I was in Singapore, a new chief executive was installed in Hong Kong. The Chinese General Secretary, Hu Jintao, was there to commemorate the event, as were 500,000 people in the streets of Hong Kong warning against restrictions on democracy. Hu Jintao said repeatedly, "One country, two systems," meaning that he did not intend to try to smother Hong Kong's political system. At the same time, Kennedy-esque, he encouraged Hong Kong to think about what they could do for China. This was very prominent in Singapore news. 

SINGAPOREANA

I would return to Singapore whenever the opportunity might arise. It is a fantastic place. I will just end by listing some moments of pleasure, which won't mean nearly as much to you as they do to me.

Chilli Crab at the Long Beach restaurant, eating outside on a perfect evening, watching the thousand lights on the ships in Singapore Strait.
 

The history section of the Singapore National Museum.
 

Fish Head Curry at the Banana Leaf Apolo (spelled differently and no relation to the Greek god, as far as I can tell), where the sharp-toothed head stares at you from a pungent sauce as you devour it.

The National Orchid Garden, where I learned that the black orchid is not only something of legend, and saw new orchid varietals that had been named after visiting VIPs.

The Arab quarter on Victoria Road, and the beautiful mosque with the banner advertising its website and evening social activities.

Breakfast at the Regent Hotel, where you could have American, European, Japanese, or Chinese, but I always went for local fare--steamed buns, satay, congee, garoupa.

Standing atop the 57-story Marina Bay Sands, on a cantilevered balcony the size of a 747, the best view in Singapore.

Gardens by the Bay, with its orchid-covered "supertrees" and signs in the four official languages--English, Chinese, Malay and Tamil.

The sense of relief on the bus back to Singapore, after spending a day across the Johor River in Malaysia.

I boarded the plane to fly away with a genuine longing to return.