A great work of literature does more than hold our attention in the moment; it holds a mirror to human nature, and its value can grow, not diminish over time. Lee Kuan Yew’s passing suggests that perhaps the same is true of great lives. As has been said across the world in recent weeks, the scope of his achievements and successes through de-colonisation, race-riots and initially unwanted independence, to the development of the modern city that we see today, are without equal in recent history. To anyone who has ever tried to build any organization, Singapore’s progress and development under Mr Lee is little short of awe-inspiring. But what’s as interesting to me, as an educator, are the insights from his words about what these achievements took, and what they cost.
I give a good deal of thought to how we can develop students who can both find within themselves the steel to stand against the ebbs and flows of of fashionable sentiment, and also who can find a cause outside themselves that they believe in, to which they can commit. These two things lead to lives of principle, and to lives of service – which are often not really separate at all. Mr Lee illustrates this in spectacular fashion.
Most impressive to me is his life of intelligent, driven service to his cause: “I have no regrets; I have spent my life, so much of it, building up this country. There’s nothing more that I need to do”. Not that it did not come at a price, to himself and to others; he reflected on his time in power in a New York Times interview in 2010: “I’m not saying that everything I did was right, but everything I did was for an honourable purpose. I had to do some nasty things”. There is no doubt that making a difference can come at a cost, and it is no easy matter to weigh the costs to those who pay them against the benefits to those who receive them. Nor is it easy to have the resolve to live with the consequences – good and bad – of our choices. One cannot help but think of the importance of a firm moral and intellectual foundation; and of the values-driven nature of our enterprise of education. I hope for our students that they will make their choices mindful of a greater cause than themselves, with an idea about their costs and who will pay them, so that when the time comes, like Mr Lee, they will look back and be able to say “I have done what I wanted to, to the best of my ability. I am satisfied”. It’s hard to know what could be a better mark of a life well-lived.
So in marking the great man’s passing, and his life of service, during our minute’s silence, I was reflecting on another of his remarks; “the trajectory that we take depends on the choices made by the younger generation.” He was, of course, talking about Singaporeans like our alum that I mentioned earlier, whom he so clearly inspired. But the message is a wider one, and one that reminds us of the importance of shaping our students, our children, to the best of our capacities.
