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Telegraph
11-08-2025
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
Millions of children watched Blue Peter. Biddy Baxter brought us together as a country
When television first became all-powerful, people complained that it dissolved social bonds, but you could argue the opposite was true. In the heyday of terrestrial television, from the 1950s to early 1980s, so many people watched the same things. There were only two channels until 1964, only three until 1982. This created a community of amusement, gossip and shared knowledge. Today's news of the death of Biddy Baxter brought this home to me. She must have been the only example of a television editor, as opposed to presenter, who was a household word. Children watching never knew what she looked like, but her memorably alliterative name always appeared last on the credits at the end of Blue Peter. We all, in our millions, watched Blue Peter. I can attest to Biddy Baxter's fame by the fact that my wife, being born Baxter (though no relation), was often jokingly called Biddy at university in the 1970s. I occasionally call her 'Biddy B' as a tease even now. Unlike all but a tiny percentage of children, I met Biddy Baxter. This was because we had a litter of nine husky puppies – the second, I believe, ever born in Britain. Their mother was called BP, which stood for Big Puppy, not Blue Peter. They made the H in the Blue Peter Dogs' Alphabet – and the whole lot appeared on the programme. The Moore family brought them up from the country to Broadcasting House. Miss Baxter as, of course, we called her, greeted us. She had high, clicking heels and a brisk manner. I must admit I found her slightly alarming. While we sat drawing in a make-up room (there was no live 'feed' in those days), the puppies tumbled around in the studio with Christopher Trace and a slightly uneasy Valerie Singleton. Rather shockingly, they referred to them throughout as 'Antarctic' creatures: they are Arctic ones.
Sydney Morning Herald
09-08-2025
- Entertainment
- Sydney Morning Herald
The ‘miracle' nation at 60: How Singapore thrived against the odds
The Sound of Music is playing for the first time in cinemas, the Vietnam War has reached a midway escalation, and the Beatles have just released their seventh chart-topping, jiggly-bopping hit, Ticket to Ride. It's 1965, and in steamy South-East Asia, political differences between Malaysia and Singapore, which are joined in what is known as the Federation of Malaysia, a new and still-fragile alliance, simmer behind closed doors as their leaders debate their future together. On August 9, the curtain drops: they have signed an agreement to sever ties, leaving Singaporeans to captain their own nation for the first time in its history. It's a great shock to the populace and a bitter disappointment for Singapore's prime minister, Lee Kuan Yew, who had championed the federation. 'For me, it is a moment of anguish,' he tells neat rows of reporters in Singapore's Broadcasting House, before tearing up and lamenting his thwarted vision for unity across the neighbouring territories. And so marked Singapore's first day of independence – not a euphoric dismissal of colonial overlords but cast adrift into hostile waters. 'That moment of vulnerability sticks with many Singaporeans still to this day,' says Terence Lee, an Australian media professor from Singapore, now at the University of Nottingham Ningbo in China. 'We didn't intend to become independent. We were not meant to exist as a country,' Prime Minister Lawrence Wong said on Saturday. 'The prevailing conviction amongst our founding leaders and pioneer generation alike was that Singapore had to be part of Malaysia. We were simply too small, too exposed, too vulnerable to stand on our own.' As the island city-state proudly celebrates 60 years of self-rule, it is today best known to outsiders as a poster child for surreal growth, fantastical architecture, the novel and film Crazy Rich Asians and as a glittering destination for tourists (Qantas has flown there since 1935; 1.1 million Australians visited Singapore in 2024, its fifth-biggest tourism market). Beneath the surface, though, is a hardworking, competitive society run by a government that occupies a unique middle ground somewhere between semi-authoritarianism, benevolent paternalism and Western-style democracy. So, how did Singapore shape its independence? Is it true that every citizen gets a flat? And who are the 'crazy rich'? Is life in Singapore anything like Crazy Rich Asians? In Kevin Kwan's 2013 novel Crazy Rich Asians, New York academic Nick Young invites girlfriend Rachel, a fellow scholar, to a wedding in Singapore. Unaware that Nick is from one of Singapore's wealthiest families, Rachel is surprised to be thrust into a world of chauffeurs, private jets, eye-wateringly expensive real estate, Burmese rubies, ritzy hotels, Lamborghinis and complex etiquette reminiscent of Jane Austen's Regency England. 'This is Singapore,' Nick tells Rachel, where 'the idle rich spend all their time gossiping about other people's money. Who's worth how much, who inherited how much, who sold their house for how much.' Today, Singapore's luxury image is hard to escape. The largest ever Australian-built superyacht, a multimillion-dollar, 84-metre trimaran, is owned by Singapore billionaire Goh Cheng Liang. The most desired mansions, the so-called Good Class Bungalows, change hands for upwards of $200 million. More broadly, though, the city-state's economy is often referred to as the 'Singapore miracle': since 1965, its GDP growth has been among the world's highest, averaging about 7 per cent a year (Singapore is Australia's largest two-way trading partner in South-East Asia). In the past 20 years, the median wage for Singaporean workers has risen by 43 per cent, compared with 8 per cent in the United States. Today, its average wealth per adult is $682,000 ($US444,558) – the seventh-highest globally, ahead of New Zealand but behind Denmark and Australia. Yet most experts we spoke with told us that inequality is the biggest issue Singaporeans contend with today. 'Singapore is a fabulous place to stop over on the way to somewhere else. Things work, services are generally high-quality. It's interesting and different for most people,' says Garry Rodan, an honorary professor in political science at University of Queensland. 'But that's not the daily experience of Singaporeans. Like in most societies, there are inequalities, and not everyone's experience is the same.' The city has been ranked the world's most expensive to live in for nine of the past 11 Worldwide Cost of Living surveys, conducted annually by the Economist Intelligence Unit research group, although the Singapore government insists that much of this data applies only to expats, who pay through the nose for private rent and schooling (in 2024, about 30 per cent of the 6 million population were non-residents). Taxes are relatively low, but Singapore is still the costliest place in the world to own a car, thanks to the mandatory 'certificates of entitlement', which are sold at auction and can cost well over $100,000. 'Singapore's economy has both sophisticated areas of finance and pharmaceuticals research, and lots of other things, which attracts people from overseas who have to be paid high salaries in global headquarters for various operations,' Rodan says. 'On the other hand, there's a huge dependence on [low-paid] guest labour for areas of manufacturing, ship building and hospitality and, quite significantly, also for domestic help.' More than 80 per cent of the citizen population lives in apartment towers built by the government's Housing and Development Board (known as HBD flats or 'government housing'), most as owners, in effect. The one- to five-room units come with 99-year leases. Couples aged 21 and older, and singles 35 and up, can apply for one. The flats can be sold on the open market after a five-year occupation period, taking into account the remaining lease (the most mature of which have just over 50 years remaining). 'There's a survey that talks about how Singapore has worked the longest hours in the region, in Asia broadly, and how Singaporeans are more sleep-deprived. It's constant.' Media professor Terence Lee Meanwhile, young people vie for places in top schools and tertiary institutes in a rigorous education system that winnows out stragglers. 'It's kind of a rat race environment,' says Terence Lee, who grew up in Singapore but chose to pursue his academic career overseas. 'There is a sense of, you know, getting ahead of everyone else, and that starts from early years of school,' he says. 'Beneath the veneer of a successful society are people who are burnt out. Almost every year, there's a survey that talks about how Singapore has worked the longest hours in the region, in Asia broadly, and how Singaporeans are more sleep-deprived. It's constant.' Singaporean families place a strong emphasis on education for social mobility, Dr Woo Jun Jie tells us from the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy at the National University of Singapore. 'Policymakers have sought to encourage students and parents to consider multiple pathways to excellence, which includes highlighting different vocations and educational outcomes. However, students often face pressure from their parents to choose educational pathways that lead to elite career options, such as law, medicine and technology.' What was Singapore before it became a nation? Raffles, the storied hotel, still trades on its colonial-era memories of Rudyard Kipling and Joseph Conrad lingering in its Long Bar, sweeping their peanut shells onto the floor as 'punkah wallahs' hypnotically pulled at ropes operating ceiling fans. You can still hear the thwack of leather on willow at the nearby Padang oval, home to the Singapore Cricket Club since 1852. Singapore's lush botanic garden, laid out at its current site in 1859, is today a much-loved oasis showcasing rare variants of the national flower, orchids, a walk away from the malls and office towers of nearby Orchard Road. But, as many an Australian traveller knows, not much else remains of the old days. The Bugis Street neighbourhood, once renowned or reviled for its seedy bars and red-light establishments, has been turned into a shopping mall. Boat Quay, once the busiest part of the old Port of Singapore, is now a touristy restaurant strip. Virtually all of Singapore's mangrove swamps have been 'reclaimed': the island is 25 per cent larger than it was at independence. Much of the ground that Changi Airport is built on used to be underwater, as was the footprint of the striking Marina Bay Sands casino resort. Raffles Hotel put up some resistance but eventually succumbed too, reopening after a renovation in 2019 bigger but with some of its earlier shabby-chic charm polished away. What has never changed, however, is Singapore's geographical good fortune, its handy position in a choke point at the eastern mouth of the Strait of Malacca, a major shipping route. Singapore has probably been a port since at least the 12th century, when the island was known as Temasek ('Sea Town' in the local dialect). About 1300, the Malay prince Sang Nila Utama named a settlement on the island Singapura, from the Sanskrit 'Lion City'. Much later, in 1819, Stamford Raffles, working for the British East India Company, landed here hoping to gain a foothold against Dutch dominance in the region, sealing a deal with an accommodating potentate to open shop on what became anglicised as 'Singapore' in 1819. It rapidly grew from little more than a swampy hamlet into a thriving regional hub: growing pepper and gambier, a plant used in medicine and textiles; becoming a market for other spices and minerals, among them gold, and a useful refuelling and repair station for passing vessels. Two local discoveries supercharged the economy: the first practical method, developed at the Botanic Gardens, of tapping the milky white sap of the rubber tree; and a natural latex called gutta-percha, which would make possible underwater telegraph lines (Singapore first linked to Madras, India in 1871, as part of a project to connect Australia with the UK, and today remains an important global node for subsea fibre-optic cables). Life was particularly good for the British ruling elite. They occupied large 'black and white' bungalows (which today routinely change hands for tens of millions), employed 'help' to attend their every need and could retire of an evening to one of their beloved haunts, such as the Tanglin Club, founded in 1865 (and still a bastion of privilege), for a quinine-rich G&T to ward off malaria. Even the occasional tiger wandered into town, including one famously shot between the eyes in the Raffles billiards room in 1902. All that came to an abrupt end, of course, in February 1942, when Japanese forces swept through Malaya and forced the British to surrender in just seven days. They renamed the island 'Syonan' (Light of the South), rounded up and massacred as many as 50,000 ethnic Chinese men, interned women and children and impounded Allied soldiers in the notorious Changi prison camp. One teenager, the story goes, only narrowly avoided the initial wave of executions by escaping from a guarded dormitory: future Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew. Who was Lee Kuan Yew and how did he change Singapore? Often called the 'father' of modern Singapore, Lee was the first-born son of Peranakan (Chinese-Malay mixed heritage) parents. Known for his urbane and cosmopolitan outlook, he had attended the prestigious Raffles Institution, spoke English and Malay (his actual first name was Harry) and during the war, after his close shave, quickly learnt Japanese to make himself useful to the invaders as an interpreter. After the war, he continued his education in Britain, at the London School of Economics and the University of Cambridge, where his group of equally clever friends, among them Goh Keng Swee (a future deputy prime minister), formed the core of what would later become Singapore's dominant political force, the People's Action Party (PAP), soon to be joined by Lee's future wife, the lawyer Kwa Geok Choo, as a co-founder. In the 1950s, as Britain negotiated an exit from its South-East Asian 'possessions', it granted Singapore a form of self-government with authority over everything but defence and foreign affairs. Campaigning for full independence, rapid nation building and the need to stamp out endemic corruption, Lee's PAP won the 1959 election in a landslide, Lee becoming prime minister, a reign that would last for 41 years. In 1963, Singapore joined with Malaya, North Borneo (present-day Sabah) and Sarawak to form the New Federation of Malaysia. Lee saw many advantages to being part of a greater whole, not least the opportunity for everybody to 'get a share of what is left after one hundred-odd years of British rule'. But the federation was beset with infighting, even sparking race riots. By August 1965, Lee and a handful of close confidants had decided Singapore had no option but to break free. 'You never see chaps sitting under a tree waiting for gold to drop down from the sky.' Former Singapore leader Lee Kuan Yew Disappointed, Lee nevertheless sold it as an opportunity. Plucky Singapore would thrive against the odds. Progress, he promised in a speech made later that year, would be 'spread equally, regardless of race, language or religion'. In fact, the main ethnic groups – Chinese (a 75 per cent majority), Malay and Indian – were encouraged to maintain their identities and languages, and to also speak English to one another (which would become the official language of the government). Don't expect actual welfare, as it is understood in the West, he warned. 'A civilised, advanced society will emerge because we've got an industrious people. You never see chaps sitting under a tree waiting for gold to drop down from the sky.' Lee promised to quickly create between 8000 and 10,000 jobs for imminent school-leavers, but warned workers against going on strike because that would deter overseas investors. A new volunteer defence corps would make Singapore a 'poisonous prawn' for would-be invaders (compulsory national service for all men aged 18 remains in place today). 'I've been around a lot of places in this part of the world and I can tell you, quite frankly, there isn't a better place,' he said. 'You can go to more posh hotels in other capitals in South-East Asia. But the moment you step out of that hotel, you step out into filth, degradation and squalor. You don't do that in Singapore. You step out, and you still step out into a relatively civilised society. Ten years from now, it will be better than now.' In return, Lee expected Singaporeans to be loyal and disciplined, to 'belong' and 'to make this place tick'. Urban planner Liu Thai Ker insisted apartment blocks have playgrounds, sports fields, shopping centres and (the now famous) food courts. Living standards did improve as the government razed slum neighbourhoods and rehoused their occupants in the 'HDB' apartment blocks (Singaporeans love abbreviations: the 'mass rapid transport' train system is universally called the MRT, the car permit the COE, Lee Kuan Yew was 'LKY' and even the nation's birthday is SG60). Many residents went on to become homeowners – which the lifelong leases are seen as being akin to – although inhabitants of soon-to-be-bulldozed traditional 'kampong' villages were not necessarily happy to trade in their backyards, shade trees and free-ranging chickens. Later estates were overseen by the Yale-trained urban planner Liu Thai Ker, who insisted they have playgrounds, sports fields, shopping centres and (the now famous) food courts, where locals still eat cheaply and well. Lee declared 'we need the greenery of nature to lift our spirits', inaugurating a nationwide tree planting campaign in 1963, the precursor to programs that have produced the lush, green city, drooping with vines, that we know today. Animals that had disappeared have returned, including otters, spotted even downtown to widespread joy, the blue-crowned hanging parrot and the glorious oriental pied hornbill. Lee, who proved a skilled diplomat, courted foreign expertise and multinationals to invest in new industrial zones on very favourable terms: an entire island off the coast of the suburb of Jurong is now given over to petrochemical production. In 1972, Singapore became one of the first ports to containerise, which gave it an insurmountable lead over regional competitors. In other words, Lee largely kept the promises he made in 1965. But there was a significant caveat: the People's Action Party demanded a firm hand on the tiller. It would brook no dissent. It came to effectively wield control not only over legislation and law and order but media, trade unions, culture, academia and even the land under people's feet, thanks to the Land Acquisition Act of 1967, which allowed the government to eventually become by far Singapore's largest landholder. The government, which characteristically launched a 'courtesy campaign' in 1979, hectored its citizens to flush toilets and refrain from spitting, jaywalking and (famously) chewing gum. Some crimes, meanwhile, are still punishable by strokes of a rattan cane on bare buttocks or by death by hanging. 'He understood the exercise of power in all of its forms – economic, political, social, religious – and he was obsessed with taking control of that and using it and deploying it in his own little system,' historian Michael Barr tells us. 'And the saving grace for that was a strong element of public service wrapped up in it. He really did have, seriously, an ethos of being the benefactor for this country that he felt responsible for creating.' 'Singaporeans are a practical lot. They want somebody who can deliver something.' Lowy Institute research fellow Rahman Yaacob Everyday citizens, observes Barr in his book Singapore: A Modern History, accepted the loss of freedoms and political rights as 'a reasonable price to pay for the positive side of the struggle for survival: economic and industrial development, jobs, peace on the streets and a highly successful program of housing development'. Those factors still dominate today, says Rahman Yaacob, a research fellow at the Lowy Institute who worked in Singapore's government for 18 years and has just returned to Australia from the island nation. 'Singaporeans are a practical lot,' he tells us. 'They want somebody who can deliver something. If there's economic prosperity, security and stability, they will go for that person.' How does Singapore's government work? There is an argument sometimes made by Singapore's ruling elite that the nation is the most authentic democracy in South-East Asia. Its High Commissioner to the UK, Ng Teck Hean, wrote in the Financial Times last year that 'almost alone among Asian countries, Singapore has never failed to hold regular elections; never once imposed emergency rule; and the ruling party has always kept open the possibility it could be voted out of power'. It is true that the PAP faces competition: Singapore's constitution even guarantees 12 seats in parliament for its opposition lest they fall short at the polls. Yet the PAP has won 14 elections in a row since 1959, including a landslide earlier this year that new Prime Minister Lawrence Wong said delivered the government a 'clear and strong mandate'. 'There's a main opposition party but in the lead-up to every election, they would assure Singaporeans that voting for them is not going to change the government.' Professor Terence Lee Says Terence Lee: 'There's a main opposition party – The Workers' Party – but in the lead-up to every election, they would assure Singaporeans that voting for them is not going to change the government, which is quite bizarre when you think about it.' Lee says that, in general, for Singaporeans, 'It's almost impossible to imagine what life could be like after the PAP.' He notes this system comes with its advantages compared with Western democracies. 'That's why Singapore works; you can kind of make plans for the very long haul, knowing very well that they're never going to be voted out of office.' Freedom House, a US organisation that produces an annual report on the state of global democracy, rates Singapore as 'partly free', noting 'the electoral and legal framework that the PAP has constructed allows for some political pluralism, but it constrains the growth of credible opposition parties and limits freedoms of expression, assembly and association'. The report highlights the Protection from Online Falsehoods and Manipulation Act of 2019, which ostensibly counters fake news but which any minister can employ to 'restrict access to content that was deemed false or contrary to the public interest'. Other laws restrict public gatherings and foreign media. Yet a form of consultation is in vogue, too. The sophistication of this system relies on political co-option as much as legislative curbs on media reporting, free speech, civil society organisations and opposition political parties, Rodan says. 'Since the mid-1980s, creative and increasingly expansive public-policy feedback mechanisms and institutions have been introduced to engage individuals and organisations,' beginning with a forum in 1985 that is today named REACH (Reaching Everyone for Active Citizenry @ Home) – a government department that runs focus groups, surveys and platforms for citizens to ask questions, debate policies and make suggestions. 'Certainly, such extensive public consultation can come at a cost to policy efficiency,' Woo Jun Jie tells us from the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy at the National University of Singapore. 'However, public consultation is now the norm across public agencies in Singapore.' The catch, says Rodan, is there is no way for participants to hold authorities to account 'for failure to act on advice or suggestions'. In his view, the approach is about dissuading Singaporeans from looking to opposition parties. 'This strategy is not foolproof, especially among working-class Singaporeans who are worst affected by social inequality.' Where to now for Singapore? Prime Minister Lawrence Wong has said his nation's 60th anniversary of independence is an opportunity to consider how it will shape its future. 'We know deep in our bones that Singapore was built against the odds,' he said earlier this year. 'Every generation has done its part, strived for excellence, and made their tomorrow better than today. Now it is our turn to blaze a bold path forward.' There is a simmering debate about the treatment of 'guest workers' – the 1.3 million manual labourers, factory workers and housemaids who prop up the economy on wages as low as $500 a month, reports the BBC. 'They are also often subject to abuses by recruitment agencies and their employers, including overwork, unpaid labour and poor living conditions.' The paucity of safety nets for Singaporean citizens also remains an issue for many. 'Social security is limited for certain people who can't make it in that economy and flourish,' says Garry Rodan. 'We must enable our people, workers and businesses to make full use of these tools, and sharpen our competitive edge.' Singapore Prime Minister Lawrence Wong There are signs the government is beginning to grapple with the inequalities. In 2023, it provided more support for people wanting to buy homes on the open market and Prime Minister Wong has acknowledged that people seeking to buy their first home now find prices too high. Wong has also spoken of the need to help the recently unemployed, in April introducing the SkillsFuture Jobseeker Support scheme, although it lasts for just six months and payments are capped at a total of just over $7000. Loading On Saturday in a speech at the Padang, he said that Singapore had to remain 'exceptional'. That meant embracing new technologies, particularly artificial intelligence and robotics. 'We must enable our people, workers and businesses to make full use of these tools, and sharpen our competitive edge,' he said, warning that not everyone would find the transition easy. The government would strengthen safety nets, he said, and help Singaporeans who faced setbacks to 'bounce back and press on'. But it is the middle classes, in recent years, who have been truly squeezed, says Michael Barr: 'For those in the middle, the cost of living and housing has made it extremely stressful to make ends meet, especially if there are children to educate or aged parents to support. Singapore has delivered prosperity but has given Singaporeans a frantic edge. The one thing that seems to unite everyone is that life in Singapore has become uncomfortably crowded, frightfully expensive and, above all, unrelentingly busy.'
The Age
09-08-2025
- Entertainment
- The Age
The ‘miracle' nation at 60: How Singapore thrived against the odds
The Sound of Music is playing for the first time in cinemas, the Vietnam War has reached a midway escalation, and the Beatles have just released their seventh chart-topping, jiggly-bopping hit, Ticket to Ride. It's 1965, and in steamy South-East Asia, political differences between Malaysia and Singapore, which are joined in what is known as the Federation of Malaysia, a new and still-fragile alliance, simmer behind closed doors as their leaders debate their future together. On August 9, the curtain drops: they have signed an agreement to sever ties, leaving Singaporeans to captain their own nation for the first time in its history. It's a great shock to the populace and a bitter disappointment for Singapore's prime minister, Lee Kuan Yew, who had championed the federation. 'For me, it is a moment of anguish,' he tells neat rows of reporters in Singapore's Broadcasting House, before tearing up and lamenting his thwarted vision for unity across the neighbouring territories. And so marked Singapore's first day of independence – not a euphoric dismissal of colonial overlords but cast adrift into hostile waters. 'That moment of vulnerability sticks with many Singaporeans still to this day,' says Terence Lee, an Australian media professor from Singapore, now at the University of Nottingham Ningbo in China. 'We didn't intend to become independent. We were not meant to exist as a country,' Prime Minister Lawrence Wong said on Saturday. 'The prevailing conviction amongst our founding leaders and pioneer generation alike was that Singapore had to be part of Malaysia. We were simply too small, too exposed, too vulnerable to stand on our own.' As the island city-state proudly celebrates 60 years of self-rule, it is today best known to outsiders as a poster child for surreal growth, fantastical architecture, the novel and film Crazy Rich Asians and as a glittering destination for tourists (Qantas has flown there since 1935; 1.1 million Australians visited Singapore in 2024, its fifth-biggest tourism market). Beneath the surface, though, is a hardworking, competitive society run by a government that occupies a unique middle ground somewhere between semi-authoritarianism, benevolent paternalism and Western-style democracy. So, how did Singapore shape its independence? Is it true that every citizen gets a flat? And who are the 'crazy rich'? Is life in Singapore anything like Crazy Rich Asians? In Kevin Kwan's 2013 novel Crazy Rich Asians, New York academic Nick Young invites girlfriend Rachel, a fellow scholar, to a wedding in Singapore. Unaware that Nick is from one of Singapore's wealthiest families, Rachel is surprised to be thrust into a world of chauffeurs, private jets, eye-wateringly expensive real estate, Burmese rubies, ritzy hotels, Lamborghinis and complex etiquette reminiscent of Jane Austen's Regency England. 'This is Singapore,' Nick tells Rachel, where 'the idle rich spend all their time gossiping about other people's money. Who's worth how much, who inherited how much, who sold their house for how much.' Today, Singapore's luxury image is hard to escape. The largest ever Australian-built superyacht, a multimillion-dollar, 84-metre trimaran, is owned by Singapore billionaire Goh Cheng Liang. The most desired mansions, the so-called Good Class Bungalows, change hands for upwards of $200 million. More broadly, though, the city-state's economy is often referred to as the 'Singapore miracle': since 1965, its GDP growth has been among the world's highest, averaging about 7 per cent a year (Singapore is Australia's largest two-way trading partner in South-East Asia). In the past 20 years, the median wage for Singaporean workers has risen by 43 per cent, compared with 8 per cent in the United States. Today, its average wealth per adult is $682,000 ($US444,558) – the seventh-highest globally, ahead of New Zealand but behind Denmark and Australia. Yet most experts we spoke with told us that inequality is the biggest issue Singaporeans contend with today. 'Singapore is a fabulous place to stop over on the way to somewhere else. Things work, services are generally high-quality. It's interesting and different for most people,' says Garry Rodan, an honorary professor in political science at University of Queensland. 'But that's not the daily experience of Singaporeans. Like in most societies, there are inequalities, and not everyone's experience is the same.' The city has been ranked the world's most expensive to live in for nine of the past 11 Worldwide Cost of Living surveys, conducted annually by the Economist Intelligence Unit research group, although the Singapore government insists that much of this data applies only to expats, who pay through the nose for private rent and schooling (in 2024, about 30 per cent of the 6 million population were non-residents). Taxes are relatively low, but Singapore is still the costliest place in the world to own a car, thanks to the mandatory 'certificates of entitlement', which are sold at auction and can cost well over $100,000. 'Singapore's economy has both sophisticated areas of finance and pharmaceuticals research, and lots of other things, which attracts people from overseas who have to be paid high salaries in global headquarters for various operations,' Rodan says. 'On the other hand, there's a huge dependence on [low-paid] guest labour for areas of manufacturing, ship building and hospitality and, quite significantly, also for domestic help.' More than 80 per cent of the citizen population lives in apartment towers built by the government's Housing and Development Board (known as HBD flats or 'government housing'), most as owners, in effect. The one- to five-room units come with 99-year leases. Couples aged 21 and older, and singles 35 and up, can apply for one. The flats can be sold on the open market after a five-year occupation period, taking into account the remaining lease (the most mature of which have just over 50 years remaining). 'There's a survey that talks about how Singapore has worked the longest hours in the region, in Asia broadly, and how Singaporeans are more sleep-deprived. It's constant.' Media professor Terence Lee Meanwhile, young people vie for places in top schools and tertiary institutes in a rigorous education system that winnows out stragglers. 'It's kind of a rat race environment,' says Terence Lee, who grew up in Singapore but chose to pursue his academic career overseas. 'There is a sense of, you know, getting ahead of everyone else, and that starts from early years of school,' he says. 'Beneath the veneer of a successful society are people who are burnt out. Almost every year, there's a survey that talks about how Singapore has worked the longest hours in the region, in Asia broadly, and how Singaporeans are more sleep-deprived. It's constant.' Singaporean families place a strong emphasis on education for social mobility, Dr Woo Jun Jie tells us from the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy at the National University of Singapore. 'Policymakers have sought to encourage students and parents to consider multiple pathways to excellence, which includes highlighting different vocations and educational outcomes. However, students often face pressure from their parents to choose educational pathways that lead to elite career options, such as law, medicine and technology.' What was Singapore before it became a nation? Raffles, the storied hotel, still trades on its colonial-era memories of Rudyard Kipling and Joseph Conrad lingering in its Long Bar, sweeping their peanut shells onto the floor as 'punkah wallahs' hypnotically pulled at ropes operating ceiling fans. You can still hear the thwack of leather on willow at the nearby Padang oval, home to the Singapore Cricket Club since 1852. Singapore's lush botanic garden, laid out at its current site in 1859, is today a much-loved oasis showcasing rare variants of the national flower, orchids, a walk away from the malls and office towers of nearby Orchard Road. But, as many an Australian traveller knows, not much else remains of the old days. The Bugis Street neighbourhood, once renowned or reviled for its seedy bars and red-light establishments, has been turned into a shopping mall. Boat Quay, once the busiest part of the old Port of Singapore, is now a touristy restaurant strip. Virtually all of Singapore's mangrove swamps have been 'reclaimed': the island is 25 per cent larger than it was at independence. Much of the ground that Changi Airport is built on used to be underwater, as was the footprint of the striking Marina Bay Sands casino resort. Raffles Hotel put up some resistance but eventually succumbed too, reopening after a renovation in 2019 bigger but with some of its earlier shabby-chic charm polished away. What has never changed, however, is Singapore's geographical good fortune, its handy position in a choke point at the eastern mouth of the Strait of Malacca, a major shipping route. Singapore has probably been a port since at least the 12th century, when the island was known as Temasek ('Sea Town' in the local dialect). About 1300, the Malay prince Sang Nila Utama named a settlement on the island Singapura, from the Sanskrit 'Lion City'. Much later, in 1819, Stamford Raffles, working for the British East India Company, landed here hoping to gain a foothold against Dutch dominance in the region, sealing a deal with an accommodating potentate to open shop on what became anglicised as 'Singapore' in 1819. It rapidly grew from little more than a swampy hamlet into a thriving regional hub: growing pepper and gambier, a plant used in medicine and textiles; becoming a market for other spices and minerals, among them gold, and a useful refuelling and repair station for passing vessels. Two local discoveries supercharged the economy: the first practical method, developed at the Botanic Gardens, of tapping the milky white sap of the rubber tree; and a natural latex called gutta-percha, which would make possible underwater telegraph lines (Singapore first linked to Madras, India in 1871, as part of a project to connect Australia with the UK, and today remains an important global node for subsea fibre-optic cables). Life was particularly good for the British ruling elite. They occupied large 'black and white' bungalows (which today routinely change hands for tens of millions), employed 'help' to attend their every need and could retire of an evening to one of their beloved haunts, such as the Tanglin Club, founded in 1865 (and still a bastion of privilege), for a quinine-rich G&T to ward off malaria. Even the occasional tiger wandered into town, including one famously shot between the eyes in the Raffles billiards room in 1902. All that came to an abrupt end, of course, in February 1942, when Japanese forces swept through Malaya and forced the British to surrender in just seven days. They renamed the island 'Syonan' (Light of the South), rounded up and massacred as many as 50,000 ethnic Chinese men, interned women and children and impounded Allied soldiers in the notorious Changi prison camp. One teenager, the story goes, only narrowly avoided the initial wave of executions by escaping from a guarded dormitory: future Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew. Who was Lee Kuan Yew and how did he change Singapore? Often called the 'father' of modern Singapore, Lee was the first-born son of Peranakan (Chinese-Malay mixed heritage) parents. Known for his urbane and cosmopolitan outlook, he had attended the prestigious Raffles Institution, spoke English and Malay (his actual first name was Harry) and during the war, after his close shave, quickly learnt Japanese to make himself useful to the invaders as an interpreter. After the war, he continued his education in Britain, at the London School of Economics and the University of Cambridge, where his group of equally clever friends, among them Goh Keng Swee (a future deputy prime minister), formed the core of what would later become Singapore's dominant political force, the People's Action Party (PAP), soon to be joined by Lee's future wife, the lawyer Kwa Geok Choo, as a co-founder. In the 1950s, as Britain negotiated an exit from its South-East Asian 'possessions', it granted Singapore a form of self-government with authority over everything but defence and foreign affairs. Campaigning for full independence, rapid nation building and the need to stamp out endemic corruption, Lee's PAP won the 1959 election in a landslide, Lee becoming prime minister, a reign that would last for 41 years. In 1963, Singapore joined with Malaya, North Borneo (present-day Sabah) and Sarawak to form the New Federation of Malaysia. Lee saw many advantages to being part of a greater whole, not least the opportunity for everybody to 'get a share of what is left after one hundred-odd years of British rule'. But the federation was beset with infighting, even sparking race riots. By August 1965, Lee and a handful of close confidants had decided Singapore had no option but to break free. 'You never see chaps sitting under a tree waiting for gold to drop down from the sky.' Former Singapore leader Lee Kuan Yew Disappointed, Lee nevertheless sold it as an opportunity. Plucky Singapore would thrive against the odds. Progress, he promised in a speech made later that year, would be 'spread equally, regardless of race, language or religion'. In fact, the main ethnic groups – Chinese (a 75 per cent majority), Malay and Indian – were encouraged to maintain their identities and languages, and to also speak English to one another (which would become the official language of the government). Don't expect actual welfare, as it is understood in the West, he warned. 'A civilised, advanced society will emerge because we've got an industrious people. You never see chaps sitting under a tree waiting for gold to drop down from the sky.' Lee promised to quickly create between 8000 and 10,000 jobs for imminent school-leavers, but warned workers against going on strike because that would deter overseas investors. A new volunteer defence corps would make Singapore a 'poisonous prawn' for would-be invaders (compulsory national service for all men aged 18 remains in place today). 'I've been around a lot of places in this part of the world and I can tell you, quite frankly, there isn't a better place,' he said. 'You can go to more posh hotels in other capitals in South-East Asia. But the moment you step out of that hotel, you step out into filth, degradation and squalor. You don't do that in Singapore. You step out, and you still step out into a relatively civilised society. Ten years from now, it will be better than now.' In return, Lee expected Singaporeans to be loyal and disciplined, to 'belong' and 'to make this place tick'. Urban planner Liu Thai Ker insisted apartment blocks have playgrounds, sports fields, shopping centres and (the now famous) food courts. Living standards did improve as the government razed slum neighbourhoods and rehoused their occupants in the 'HDB' apartment blocks (Singaporeans love abbreviations: the 'mass rapid transport' train system is universally called the MRT, the car permit the COE, Lee Kuan Yew was 'LKY' and even the nation's birthday is SG60). Many residents went on to become homeowners – which the lifelong leases are seen as being akin to – although inhabitants of soon-to-be-bulldozed traditional 'kampong' villages were not necessarily happy to trade in their backyards, shade trees and free-ranging chickens. Later estates were overseen by the Yale-trained urban planner Liu Thai Ker, who insisted they have playgrounds, sports fields, shopping centres and (the now famous) food courts, where locals still eat cheaply and well. Lee declared 'we need the greenery of nature to lift our spirits', inaugurating a nationwide tree planting campaign in 1963, the precursor to programs that have produced the lush, green city, drooping with vines, that we know today. Animals that had disappeared have returned, including otters, spotted even downtown to widespread joy, the blue-crowned hanging parrot and the glorious oriental pied hornbill. Lee, who proved a skilled diplomat, courted foreign expertise and multinationals to invest in new industrial zones on very favourable terms: an entire island off the coast of the suburb of Jurong is now given over to petrochemical production. In 1972, Singapore became one of the first ports to containerise, which gave it an insurmountable lead over regional competitors. In other words, Lee largely kept the promises he made in 1965. But there was a significant caveat: the People's Action Party demanded a firm hand on the tiller. It would brook no dissent. It came to effectively wield control not only over legislation and law and order but media, trade unions, culture, academia and even the land under people's feet, thanks to the Land Acquisition Act of 1967, which allowed the government to eventually become by far Singapore's largest landholder. The government, which characteristically launched a 'courtesy campaign' in 1979, hectored its citizens to flush toilets and refrain from spitting, jaywalking and (famously) chewing gum. Some crimes, meanwhile, are still punishable by strokes of a rattan cane on bare buttocks or by death by hanging. 'He understood the exercise of power in all of its forms – economic, political, social, religious – and he was obsessed with taking control of that and using it and deploying it in his own little system,' historian Michael Barr tells us. 'And the saving grace for that was a strong element of public service wrapped up in it. He really did have, seriously, an ethos of being the benefactor for this country that he felt responsible for creating.' 'Singaporeans are a practical lot. They want somebody who can deliver something.' Lowy Institute research fellow Rahman Yaacob Everyday citizens, observes Barr in his book Singapore: A Modern History, accepted the loss of freedoms and political rights as 'a reasonable price to pay for the positive side of the struggle for survival: economic and industrial development, jobs, peace on the streets and a highly successful program of housing development'. Those factors still dominate today, says Rahman Yaacob, a research fellow at the Lowy Institute who worked in Singapore's government for 18 years and has just returned to Australia from the island nation. 'Singaporeans are a practical lot,' he tells us. 'They want somebody who can deliver something. If there's economic prosperity, security and stability, they will go for that person.' How does Singapore's government work? There is an argument sometimes made by Singapore's ruling elite that the nation is the most authentic democracy in South-East Asia. Its High Commissioner to the UK, Ng Teck Hean, wrote in the Financial Times last year that 'almost alone among Asian countries, Singapore has never failed to hold regular elections; never once imposed emergency rule; and the ruling party has always kept open the possibility it could be voted out of power'. It is true that the PAP faces competition: Singapore's constitution even guarantees 12 seats in parliament for its opposition lest they fall short at the polls. Yet the PAP has won 14 elections in a row since 1959, including a landslide earlier this year that new Prime Minister Lawrence Wong said delivered the government a 'clear and strong mandate'. 'There's a main opposition party but in the lead-up to every election, they would assure Singaporeans that voting for them is not going to change the government.' Professor Terence Lee Says Terence Lee: 'There's a main opposition party – The Workers' Party – but in the lead-up to every election, they would assure Singaporeans that voting for them is not going to change the government, which is quite bizarre when you think about it.' Lee says that, in general, for Singaporeans, 'It's almost impossible to imagine what life could be like after the PAP.' He notes this system comes with its advantages compared with Western democracies. 'That's why Singapore works; you can kind of make plans for the very long haul, knowing very well that they're never going to be voted out of office.' Freedom House, a US organisation that produces an annual report on the state of global democracy, rates Singapore as 'partly free', noting 'the electoral and legal framework that the PAP has constructed allows for some political pluralism, but it constrains the growth of credible opposition parties and limits freedoms of expression, assembly and association'. The report highlights the Protection from Online Falsehoods and Manipulation Act of 2019, which ostensibly counters fake news but which any minister can employ to 'restrict access to content that was deemed false or contrary to the public interest'. Other laws restrict public gatherings and foreign media. Yet a form of consultation is in vogue, too. The sophistication of this system relies on political co-option as much as legislative curbs on media reporting, free speech, civil society organisations and opposition political parties, Rodan says. 'Since the mid-1980s, creative and increasingly expansive public-policy feedback mechanisms and institutions have been introduced to engage individuals and organisations,' beginning with a forum in 1985 that is today named REACH (Reaching Everyone for Active Citizenry @ Home) – a government department that runs focus groups, surveys and platforms for citizens to ask questions, debate policies and make suggestions. 'Certainly, such extensive public consultation can come at a cost to policy efficiency,' Woo Jun Jie tells us from the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy at the National University of Singapore. 'However, public consultation is now the norm across public agencies in Singapore.' The catch, says Rodan, is there is no way for participants to hold authorities to account 'for failure to act on advice or suggestions'. In his view, the approach is about dissuading Singaporeans from looking to opposition parties. 'This strategy is not foolproof, especially among working-class Singaporeans who are worst affected by social inequality.' Where to now for Singapore? Prime Minister Lawrence Wong has said his nation's 60th anniversary of independence is an opportunity to consider how it will shape its future. 'We know deep in our bones that Singapore was built against the odds,' he said earlier this year. 'Every generation has done its part, strived for excellence, and made their tomorrow better than today. Now it is our turn to blaze a bold path forward.' There is a simmering debate about the treatment of 'guest workers' – the 1.3 million manual labourers, factory workers and housemaids who prop up the economy on wages as low as $500 a month, reports the BBC. 'They are also often subject to abuses by recruitment agencies and their employers, including overwork, unpaid labour and poor living conditions.' The paucity of safety nets for Singaporean citizens also remains an issue for many. 'Social security is limited for certain people who can't make it in that economy and flourish,' says Garry Rodan. 'We must enable our people, workers and businesses to make full use of these tools, and sharpen our competitive edge.' Singapore Prime Minister Lawrence Wong There are signs the government is beginning to grapple with the inequalities. In 2023, it provided more support for people wanting to buy homes on the open market and Prime Minister Wong has acknowledged that people seeking to buy their first home now find prices too high. Wong has also spoken of the need to help the recently unemployed, in April introducing the SkillsFuture Jobseeker Support scheme, although it lasts for just six months and payments are capped at a total of just over $7000. Loading On Saturday in a speech at the Padang, he said that Singapore had to remain 'exceptional'. That meant embracing new technologies, particularly artificial intelligence and robotics. 'We must enable our people, workers and businesses to make full use of these tools, and sharpen our competitive edge,' he said, warning that not everyone would find the transition easy. The government would strengthen safety nets, he said, and help Singaporeans who faced setbacks to 'bounce back and press on'. But it is the middle classes, in recent years, who have been truly squeezed, says Michael Barr: 'For those in the middle, the cost of living and housing has made it extremely stressful to make ends meet, especially if there are children to educate or aged parents to support. Singapore has delivered prosperity but has given Singaporeans a frantic edge. The one thing that seems to unite everyone is that life in Singapore has become uncomfortably crowded, frightfully expensive and, above all, unrelentingly busy.'
The Sun
06-08-2025
- Entertainment
- The Sun
Five years ago, BBC promised to clean up its act… here's why it still hasn't learned lessons with more scandals coming
MILLIONS of viewers last night witnessed the warped spectacle of two men fronting a BBC show they had both been sacked from – one amid claims of sleazy behaviour, the other for alleged racist language. Yes, Gregg Wallace and John Torode were both back on our prime-time screens as the pre-recorded series of MasterChef aired. 6 6 Which was a staggering turn of events given that this cookery contest had served up the latest scandal to hit the corporation. I'm sure the Beeb would have gladly binned the whole thing and pretended it never happened. Instead, it took the divisive decision to air the show, a resolution born out of the corporation constantly sticking itself between a rock and a hard place. Always hamstrung If it had shelved it, 60 budding chefs would have had their hopes dashed and may even have sued the producers. If the BBC ran the show, it provided a platform for two presenters who were forced out under a massive cloud. So it went for the latter and is now under fire from all quarters. But, as with so many other examples of Beeb controversies, it was another case of Broadcasting House execs staggering from one self-induced crisis to another. The organisation is riddled by cliques, hierarchies, dogma and hypocrisy (all of which should not exist in such a liberal, egalitarian body). As a result, it is always hamstrung whenever a problem rears its head. The MasterChef debacle was all about behaviour that dated back years and yet the Beeb only just dealt with it now. Fury as Glastonbury crowd chants 'death to the IDF' during Bob Vylan set aired live on BBC But it is the same story with the Huw Edwards affair, the investigation into Strictly's Giovanni Pernice and now complaints about the behaviour of BBC Breakfast host Naga Munchetty. With a bizarre reverence for talent, the knotweed of questionable conduct is not nipped in the bud. Instead it is allowed to fester and, in some cases, spread. Bobby Vylan's antisemitic rant at Glastonbury was a perfect example of a situation where the whole country asks of its national broadcaster: 'How on EARTH could you have let this happen?' Which is why when this week we learned of accusations of drug-taking on a family show like Strictly, there was no surprise. Just further disappointment. Five years ago, when Tim Davie became Director-General, he made a pledge that the Beeb would clean up its act amid a string of similar controversies, but far from having learned lessons, it is like nothing had ever happened. 6 6 It all seems so inexplicable, too. The BBC broadcast of rapper Bobby Vylan's antisemitic rant at Glastonbury was a perfect example of a situation where the whole country asks of its national broadcaster: 'How on EARTH could you have let this happen?' The mire is certainly not down to a lack of resources. Deep inside the Beeb's annual report was an interesting statistic that highlighted that its spend on staff pay has shot up by £66million in a year. Figures also reveal that the number of 'senior leaders' earning more than £250,000 also rocketed by nearly 60 per cent. Meanwhile, the report showed that although the corporation says it faces 'tight finances' and 'rising costs', its total spend on 'salaries and wages' rose from £1.25billion to £1.32billion. That is an increase of more than five per cent — or the equivalent cost of nearly 400,000 current TV licences. The BBC's problem is not just rooted in it getting things wrong, either. It is the perception of its actions that sees it shoot itself in the foot. My own experience of the Beeb, as The Sun's TV Editor, is that whenever there is a whiff of controversy, it deals with things in a very prescriptive way. Too prescriptive. When we have discussed controversies surrounding individuals on shows produced by Banijay, who make MasterChef for BBC One, corporation PRs say it is solely for the production company to deal with queries. But they are independent companies who are not obliged to the Press quite like the Beeb is. Rebuild trust That is despite the fact we end up watching these shows, and the individuals involved, on the BBC. Tim Davie himself, in dealing with the MasterChef fallout, stated unequivocally: 'If someone is found to not live up to the values, we expect the independent company, Banijay in this case, to take action and report back to us on what they have done. Tim Davie recently said that the MasterChef scandal had convinced him the corporation had to 'draw a line in the sand' when it came to bad behaviour. But lines can blur and sands always shift 'These aren't BBC employees, but we absolutely expect action to be taken.' But if the Beeb is to ensure production companies are transparent and proactive with it, it should also insist they act similarly with the media. That is another way that public trust can be rebuilt. Davie recently said that the MasterChef scandal had convinced him the corporation had to 'draw a line in the sand' when it came to bad behaviour. But lines can blur and sands always shift. So the Director-General is going to have to do a lot better than that. 6 6
Daily Mail
30-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Daily Mail
EXCLUSIVE Why some BBC staff will be secretly 'pleased' over Bob Vylan's' 'death to the IDF' chant - and how anti-Semitic rant was allowed to be streamed live on iPlayer
The BBC 's Glastonbury scandal has sparked 'total chaos' at Broadcasting House but there are staff who will be privately happy to see the festival on the front pages, insiders told MailOnline today. A senior source has suggested that some will be 'pleased' that Bob Vylan was broadcast ranting about 'death to the IDF' before a sea of Palestinian flags. Another insider told MailOnline that there could even be BBC executives involved in broadcasting the Glastonbury festival, which many believe has been on the wane for years, who will be thinking: 'It is nice to be talked about'. They added that they believe that these bosses think that many BBC viewers will be sympathetic about the difficulties of broadcasting live music from five different stages and not knowing 'what everyone is going to say until they've said it'. The BBC today is investigating how Bob Vylan's 'death to the IDF' chant made it to broadcast without the live stream being pulled. The corporation said: 'The antisemitic sentiments expressed by Bob Vylan were utterly unacceptable and have no place on our airwaves.' Alison Howe, a BBC Studios boss who started out as a secretary but is now in charge producing the corporations coverage of Glastonbury, is in the firing line along with the BBC's head of pop music TV, Jonathan Rothery. Glastonbury organiser Emily Eavis, daughter of founder Michael, was pictured with her arm around Ms Howe this week for a BBC article promising more coverage than ever in 2025 including 90 hours of live-streamed music. But a BBC insider has suggested that while the decision was made in advance not to livestream Kneecap, Ms Howe and Mr Rothery may not have allowed for the 'total chaos' Bob Vylan caused. 'If you can't have senior eyes over it all, don't stream it all live', the insider warned. Streams from stages may all have to be shown on delay next year to avoid similar problems. A delay could allow BBC staff to cut or bleep controversial political statements, which Glastonbury is renowned for. It came as the BBC has admitted it should have cut the broadcast of 'utterly unacceptable' and 'antisemitic' sentiments in Bob Vylan's Glastonbury set - while facing calls to explain why the corporation did not to more at the time. The new statement came as the punk duo Bob Vylan's frontman doubled down on his 'death to the IDF' chant at Glastonbury - while watchdog Ofcom told the BBC it was 'very concerned' over Saturday's live broadcast. The artist who performs as Bobby Vylan - real name Pascal Robinson-Foster, 34 - is being investigated by Avon and Somerset Police over his performance. Israel 's government has been among those condemning the BBC and Glastonbury for Bob Vylan's Saturday afternoon gig at the music festival in which there were calls for the death of Israeli soldiers in what was broadcast live by the corporation. Police have launched a probe into the comments made by Bob Vylan, who led chants of 'Free Palestine ' and 'Death to the IDF' - and the BBC today admitted it 'should have pulled' the live stream of the performance that contained 'utterly unacceptable' and 'antisemitic sentiments'. The corporation has faced strong criticism over its various responses following the peformance on Saturday afternoon, including suggestions it should face charges. The BBC had initially accompanied the broadcast with warnings about 'very strong and discriminatory language', before saying on Sunday: 'Some of the comments made during Bob Vylan's set were deeply offensive.' Now the corporation has gone further in a new statement today saying: 'Millions of people tuned in to enjoy Glastonbury this weekend across the BBC's output but one performance within our live streams included comments that were deeply offensive. 'The BBC respects freedom of expression but stands firmly against incitement to violence. 'The antisemitic sentiments expressed by Bob Vylan were utterly unacceptable and have no place on our airwaves. We welcome Glastonbury's condemnation of the performance. 'The performance was part of a live stream of the West Holts stage on BBC iPlayer. The judgement on Saturday to issue a warning on screen while streaming online was in line with our editorial guidelines. 'In addition, we took the decision not to make the performance available on demand. The team were dealing with a live situation but with hindsight we should have pulled the stream during the performance. We regret this did not happen. 'In light of this weekend, we will look at our guidance around live events so we can be sure teams are clear on when it is acceptable to keep output on air.' And an Ofcom spokesperson has now said: 'We are very concerned about the live stream of this performance, and the BBC clearly has questions to answer. 'We have been speaking to the BBC over the weekend and we are obtaining further information as a matter of urgency, including what procedures were in place to ensure compliance with its own editorial guidelines.' Critics including the Conservatives ' Shadow Home Secretary Chris Philp have called for action against the BBC - while comparisons have also been made with the 31-month prison sentence handed to Lucy Connolly for inciting racial hatred when posting about burning down a hotel housing asylum seekers. The singer from the band, who officially keeps his identity secret, also declared 'from the river to the sea Palestine will be free' – and has now posted a new statement on Instagram, titled with the defiant phrase: 'I said what I said.' He also told of being 'inundated with messages of both support and hatred'. Robinson-Foster wrote: 'As I lay in bed this morning, my phone buzzing non stop, inundated with messages of both support and hatred, I listen to my daughter typing out loud as she fills out a school survey asking for her feedback on the current state of her school dinners. 'She expressed that she would like healthier meals, more options and dishes inspired by other parts of the world. 'Listening to her voice her opinions on a matter that she cares about and affects her daily, reminds me that we may not be doomed after all. 'Teaching our children to speak up for the change they want and need is the only way that we make this world a better place. 'As we grow older and our fire possibly starts to dim under the suffocation of adult life and all its responsibilities, it is incredibly important that we encourage and inspire future generations to pick up the torch that was passed to us. 'Let us display to them loudly and visibly the right thing to do when we want and need change. 'Let them see us marching in the streets, campaigning on ground level, organising online and shouting about it on any and every stage that we are offered. 'Today it is a change in school dinners, tomorrow it is a change in foreign policy.' The group formed in their hometown of Ipswich in 2017 and have since gone on to release five albums including 2020 debut We Live Here. The frontman has previously spoken of their struggles to get that first album cleared, describing it as being too 'extreme' for some in the music industry - telling the website Louder: 'It was hard to get it released the conventional way - but it was in our power to release it.' Lyrics on their tracks include saying on Britain Makes Me Violent how there is 'nothing great' about Great Britain, while on Reign the frontman declares: 'Got a message for the thieves in the palace, we want the jewels back.' Touching on the subject of housing in London, their song GYAG states: 'Landlord just raised your rent - mate, get yourself a gun.' As well as tackling subjects such as racism, homophobia, capitalism and toxic masculinity, the duo have also made a big deal about the importance of fatherhood. The singer known as Bobby Vylan has said his daughter gave their debut album We Live Here its name and she also featured on the cover of their single Dream Big. Bob Vylan's entire performance on Saturday afternoon at Glastonbury was live-streamed on the BBC iPlayer but it has since been taken down. Nevertheless, the corporation was lambasted for failing to cut the broadcast immediately after the 'anti-Israel' chanting. The live stream continued for another 40 minutes until the end of Bob Vylan's performance. Avon and Somerset Police said video evidence from the performances would be assessed by officers to determine whether any offences may have been committed that would require a criminal investigation. MailOnline has contacted the force for any further updates. Glastonbury organiser Emily Eavis has described Bob Vylan's chants as having 'very much crossed a line'. She said in a statement: 'We are urgently reminding everyone involved in the production of the festival that there is no place at Glastonbury for antisemitism, hate speech or incitement to violence.' Shadow Home Secretary Chris Philp accused Bob Vylan of 'inciting violence and hatred', saying they should be arrested and prosecuted. Glastonbury had said all were welcome at the festival but added it 'does not condone hate speech or incitement to violence of any kind from its performers' Bob Vylan's entire performance was live-streamed on the BBC iPlayer but it has since been taken down And he said of the frontman: 'By broadcasting his vile hatred, the BBC appear to have also broken the law.' Mr Philp posted on X, formerly Twitter: 'I call on the police to urgently investigate and prosecute the BBC as well for broadcasting this. 'Our national broadcaster should not be transmitting hateful material designed to incite violence and conflict.' Toby Young, president of the Free Speech Union, raised the case of childminder Lucy Connolly, who was jailed for tweets she made about deporting asylum seekers and burning down hotels housing them after the Southport killings of three girls at a dance studio. She is currently serving a 31-month sentence. He added: 'She caveated what she said by adding 'for all I care', whereas he [Vylan] clearly does care and wants every member of the IDF, which includes virtually the entire population of Israel, to be killed, so the case for prosecuting him is stronger. But to be clear, neither should be prosecuted.' Health Secretary Wes Streeting called the performance a 'pretty shameless publicity stunt', as he suggested the BBC and Glastonbury had 'questions to answer about how we saw such a spectacle on our screens'. And Conservative leader Kemi Badenoch called the scenes 'grotesque', writing on X: 'Glorifying violence against Jews isn't edgy. The West is playing with fire if we allow this sort of behaviour to go unchecked.' Shadow Work and Pensions Secretary Helen Whately said she was 'horrified' and that that the BBC should have cut the feed, telling Times Radio: 'Given the nature of the attacks on Israel, the BBC should not have kept broadcasting that. They should have cut the coverage immediately.' Bob Vylan crowdsurfs in front of the West Holts stage during day four of Glastonbury festival Liberal Democrat culture, media and sport spokesman Max Wilkinson said: 'Bob Vylan's chants at Glastonbury yesterday were appalling. 'Cultural events are always a place for debate, but hate speech, antisemitism and incitements to violence have no place at Glastonbury or anywhere in our society.' Shadow Foreign Secretary Dame Priti Patel wrote in the Daily Mail that the incident was a 'systemic failure', adding: 'What happened at Glastonbury was dangerous. 'Chants calling for the death of Israeli soldiers crossed a line no civilised society should ever tolerate, and it was shameful that the BBC continued with its live broadcast of this incitement to violence. 'The fact the BBC - a national institution - broadcast this hate-fuelled content will risk legitimising and normalising those views in society.' Culture Secretary Lisa Nandy has spoken to the BBC director general about Bob Vylan's performance, a Government spokesperson said. The BBC earlier said it showed a warning during the performance and that viewers would not be able to access it on demand. A spokesperson for the broadcaster said: 'Some of the comments made during Bob Vylan's set were deeply offensive. Despite the outrage Bobby Vylan, who performs pseudonymously alongside bandmate Bobbie Vylan, posted a photo of some ice cream as he mocked 'Zionists crying on socials' 'During this live stream on iPlayer, which reflected what was happening on stage, a warning was issued on screen about the very strong and discriminatory language. We have no plans to make the performance available on demand.' The Israeli embassy said it was 'deeply disturbed by the inflammatory and hateful rhetoric expressed on stage at the Glastonbury Festival'. The Campaign Against Antisemitism said it would be formally complaining to the BBC over what the group described as an 'outrageous decision' to broadcast Bob Vylan. A spokesperson said: 'Our national broadcaster must apologise for its dissemination of this extremist vitriol, and those responsible must be removed from their positions.' A former head of news and current affairs at Channel 4 questioned the BBC's preparation ahead of Bob Vylan's set. Dorothy Byrne, former head of news and current affairs at Channel 4 Television, told the Today Programme on BBC Radio 4: 'One wonders what research the BBC did about Bob Vylan because if you look online, he had previously made radical statements about Israel, which is his right, of course. 'But it calls into question the decision to stream him live and then, in view of what was happening in Glastonbury. 'They should really have had a politics producer in the gallery ready to advise them when and if something went wrong. 'I would have expected them to have an alternative feed available anyway because things can go wrong and there were lots of other acts on at the time. 'I'm surprised they just left it on with a warning rather than cut away because it's wrong to call for anyone to be killed. 'You're not, when you're covering a music festival, able to balance up another perspective in a duly impartial debate and coverage of a music festival is not the same as a discussion on the Today Programme. 'But it does mean that yet again we're discussing BBC coverage of Gaza when we should be discussing events in Gaza and the BBC does seem to keep getting itself into grave problems with Gaza.' A former director of communications for ex-prime minister David Cameron said the BBC should cut the feed when there is 'a hint of hate speech' at Glastonbury Festival. Sir Craig Oliver, a former editor of the BBC Six O'Clock News and Ten O'Clock News, told the Today Programme: 'It's clear that for its viewers and the BBC's own reputation there does need to be some form of mechanism that whenever there is a hint of hate speech that you can cut the feed. 'I suspect at next year's Glastonbury there's going to have to be a senior editorial figure who does understand the sensitivities and is going to cut the feed.
