An Example of Japanese Atrocities in Singapore during World War 2 (Original title: 'I was chopped, I fell and fainted' )

The following a report by By K.C. Vijayan in the Straits Times dated 15 march 2010.

IN EARLY 1942, Mr Yew Kian Chang and eight other men in their 20s were roused by a squad of Japanese military police from their dormitory in Bukit Timah.

They were marched, hands tied, to a nearby railway track and made to squat there.
The next day, they were beheaded one by one.

Mr Yew was the last. When the metre-long blade struck his neck, he fainted and was left for dead.

But the Singaporean, now 93, survived the horror, which he recounted last month to oral archivists seeking to preserve the remnants of stories about the Japanese Occupation during World War II.

The National Archives of Singapore's Oral History Centre has collected more than 870 hours of testimony from 261 survivors. But Mr Yew's is one of a kind. He is the only one to have lived to tell about being nearly beheaded.

The closest parallel is an account by Washington-based Barbara Scharnhorst, now 77, whose father had been with the Royal Army Medical Corps in Singapore and was beheaded by the Japanese in Bahau, Malaya.

Oral History Specialist Lye Soo Choon said the centre had embarked on collecting accounts for several years, but time was running out to get to the whole truth of the Occupation.

The Japanese Military Administration that ruled Singapore left almost no written records behind in Singapore regarding its work.

'The newspaper and magazines they published present only one perspective of the Occupation,' she said. 'It was to close the gap in our knowledge of our past that the Oral History Centre launched the project on the Japanese Occupation.'

The Straits Times visited the nonagenarian in a four-room flat in Bukit Batok where he lives with his wife, not far from the railway tracks in Bukit Gombak where his life had hung on the edge of a sword more than 60 years ago.

Mr Yew's unlucky compatriots were all single, like him. The married men, who lived in another block nearby, were not taken.

As he marched, the Fujian native was resigned to his fate.

'It was night, I was afraid and did not dare to look around,' he said in Hakka with his daughter translating. The next afternoon, they were taken one at a time, made to walk a few metres to lower ground and had their heads felled in a single blow by a sword wielded by a Japanese soldier.

There was no interrogation before the killing began.

'There was no commotion, no noise, no struggle. I felt resigned and did not resist and walked without feeling,' he recalled.

The men were not blindfolded. He was the last.

Clad in a singlet, shorts and China-made cloth-shoes, he walked to the spot where he was to die, and knelt down.

'When I was chopped, I fell and fainted,' he said.

It is believed he fell as soon as the blade hit him just below the neck and the downward slide of the blade missed the vital areas. The Japanese left him for dead.

Mr Yew believes he lay unconscious for more than a day, 'then I heard the voice of my grandfather as if in a dream, calling me to get up and run'.

With his hands still tied, he got up and fled to a friend who treated the wound on his neck with herbs. But maggots appeared in the gaping flesh after some days.

'My friend told me there was nothing more he could do and I had to seek medical help.'
Mr Yew found help at the Nanyang Clinic in the North Bridge Road area. After months of recovery, he fled to Endau, an agricultural settlement in Johor, Malaya, where he remained till the end of the war.

Till this day, a deep scar is visible on the back of his neck.

When the war ended, he returned to Singapore before going to China to find a bride.
He has been married for more than 65 years to Madam Lee Ah Hang, now 85, and they have eight grown-up children and several grandchildren.

Mr Yew was a carpenter by trade before and after the war. He went on to become a construction foreman and site supervisor before retiring in his late 60s.

Long ago, he had made peace with the unspeakable. 'I have no ill-feelings towards the Japanese soldiers who chopped me at that time. I thought they were just following instructions,' he said.
A Japanese group of peace activists, whose aim is to promote better understanding among the Japanese about the atrocities that took place in the region, visited Mr Yew last month.

Its spokesman Yoshiyuki Onogi told The Straits Times in an e-mail yesterday: 'To directly hear the story from someone like Mr Yew is rare, valuable and momentous to let ordinary Japanese people learn historical facts related to Japan during World War II.

'He may be the last possible person who can bear witness to the first-hand experience of the horrible massacre.'

The hard truth about soft skills

The following is an article by Janadas Devan, Review Editor in the Sunday Times dated 14th March 2010.
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A holistic education entails more than teaching a little of everything
By Janadas Devan, Review Editor

In 2006, Cambridge University, the London School of Economics and a few other British universities issued a warning to prospective students that they would not gain admission if they did 'soft' A-level subjects. Cambridge University's list of soft options included information and communication studies, design, sports studies and dance.

'To be a realistic applicant, a student will normally need to be offering two traditional academic subjects,' a Cambridge University prospectus warned. 'For example, mathematics, history and business studies would be an acceptable combination. However, history, business studies and media studies would not.'

Contrast that to the headline for the front-page story in this newspaper last Wednesday on Education Minister Ng Eng Hen's speech in Parliament: 'Schools to develop 'soft skills''.
To be sure, the minister didn't propose to make these 'soft skills and values' examinable A-level subjects. But there was no mistaking the fact they weren't to be dismissed by virtue of their softness either.

Referring to them as '21st century skills', Dr Ng spoke of nurturing in each child 'a confident person, who can tell right from wrong, is adaptable and resilient, knows himself, is discerning in judgment, communicates effectively and takes responsibility for his own learning'.

Schools are to develop in their charges 'social and emotional competencies' - everything from developing 'care and concern for others' to establishing 'positive relationships' - as well as a list of 'key competencies for a globalised world': among them, 'global awareness and cross-cultural skills, civic literacy, and critical thinking, information and communication skills'.

To someone as decidedly of the 20th century as I am, it all sounded rather alarmingly New Agey - as indeed the term 'holistic education' in the brochure accompanying the minister's speech suggested.

'Holistic', by the way, comes from 'holism' - from the Greek holos, 'all' - a term coined by that strange man Field Marshall J.C. Smuts to describe the tendency in nature to produce ordered wholes, like organisms, from disparate units. Smuts, a philosopher of some distinction, was also a military leader in the Boer War and the segregationist prime minister of South Africa from 1919 to 1924, and again from 1939 to 1948.

The essence of holism though goes back much further than Smuts and can be summed up by Aristotle's famous dictum: 'The whole is more than the sum of its parts.' I, however, leery of New Agey emanations, can't hear 'holistic' or 'holism' without thinking of 'holes' - as in the head.
And that wasn't the only reason I found myself fidgeting when I read the report announcing schools were to develop 'soft skills'. For someone of my generation, it takes some getting used to hearing the word 'soft' being pronounced by a politician without a sneer.

The only context I recall the word 'soft' being used by politicians of Mr Lee Kuan Yew's or Dr Goh Keng Swee's vintage was in formulations such as 'soft culture', 'soft-headed' (meaning foolish, silly) or 'softy' (meaning weak). If they used 'soft' positively - as when referring to the limited virtue of being 'soft-spoken' or 'soft-hearted' - it would be followed immediately by the qualification 'but hard-headed'.

Soft skills or values had no place in their rugged society. Even the values now considered part of our 'soft' equipment - telling right from wrong, resilience, adaptability, responsibility - were considered decidedly 'hard' then. That 'soft' can now appear in so positive a light - that the Government can be promoting 'holism' - is nothing short of revolutionary.

In part, that revolution was enabled by the changing fortunes of 'soft' in the wider global culture, spawned by the glamour of 'software'. Originally referring in the 19th century to 'perishable goods', it was applied to computer programs in the 1960s, to distinguish them from computer 'hardware'. That in turn led to a whole host of other soft-hard binary oppositions, in which 'soft' invariably appeared superior to 'hard' - as in 'soft power' as opposed to 'hard power', 'soft knowledge' (systems) as opposed to 'hard know-ledge' (technology), and so on. Thus soft came to suggest fine, and hard, crude; soft, mind and hard, matter; soft, creative and hard, mechanical.
Still, the fact that Cambridge University and LSE can be warning students of pursuing 'soft options', while here in Singapore, schools are being urged to nurture 'soft skills', suggests there is something else going on:

While the West, especially Britain and the United States, after a prolonged flirtation with soft options in education, is trying to claw its way back to the traditional centre, Singapore, after a prolonged insistence on rigour, seems to be discovering there is something to be said for a 'kinder and gentler' approach, after all.

Its new emphasis on the arts and sports is an attempt to recover some of the grace and delight that we may have lost as a result of a narrow insistence on academic rigour. There can hardly be a parent who would object to this.

At the risk of being unpopular, though, let me sound three warnings.

First, contrary to the suggestion in the word 'soft', there is nothing easy about art, music or literature. We can't insist on uniformly high standards for all students in these areas, but we shouldn't allow the assumption to take root that the 'soft' subjects are easy.

Second, contrary to the suggestion in the word 'hard', there is nothing lumpish about the sciences. Again, we can't insist on uniformly high standards for all in these areas, but we shouldn't allow the assumption to take root that the 'hard' subjects can't be as full of surprise and delight - as creative and human - as the 'soft' ones.

And finally, being 'holistic' entails more than adding together the parts - a bit of maths, a bit of art, a bit of civics, a bit of sports, et cetera. The whole is more than the sum of its parts - but only if the parts are actively made whole. If it is easy to be holistic, to reconcile what C.P. Snow once called 'the two cultures', any number of famous programmes - Harvard's 'core curriculum', Chicago's 'Great Books', et cetera - would have accomplished the feat. They haven't.
I'll discuss why and what we might do about this enormous challenge in my next column.

Free maths lesson and more on YouTube

The following is a report by By Bhagyashree Garekar, US Correspondent in the Straits Times dated 15th march 2010, Monday.

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WASHINGTON: What started out as a mathematics lesson for a school-going cousin is today a video library of 1,200 tutorials on YouTube, used daily by thousands who want to master things as complex as differential calculus or as simple as carry-over addition.

The creator of this popular tutorial trove is Mr Salman Khan, a former Silicon Valley hedge fund analyst who said his video clips - no longer than 20 minutes each - help make up for some of the deficiencies in traditional classroom learning. Apart from maths, for which he is mostly known, he deals with physics, chemistry, biology, economics, statistics and finance for learners ranging from kindergarten children to college sophomores.

The 33-year-old employs simple software programmes to draw diagrams, chart graphs and write words as he talks enthusiastically about the topic.

The videos get about 60,000 views a day with a total of 12 million views since he began posting them online five years ago, said Mr Khan.

Among the 200,000 visitors a month that his website http://www.khanacademy.org/ attracts are students from Britain, Canada, Australia, Italy, Sweden, India, the Middle East and Singapore.

The MBA graduate from Harvard Business School, who also has a bachelor's in Mathematics and a master's in Electrical Engineering and Computer Science from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, had never imagined a career as a tutor. But in 2004, he got roped in to help his cousin with pre-algebra. They lived in different cities, so the tutoring had to be online.

Before long, other family and friends joined in and his student population grew to more than a dozen. Scheduling lessons became a complicated affair and he ended up recording the lessons and posting them on YouTube where, unexpectedly, students across the world began accessing them.

Ms Pei Chi, a biomedical engineering student at Singapore's Temasek Polytechnic, is one of them. For the last year or so, she has been using the Khan videos to get up to speed on maths, which has been her weakness. 'Not all teachers are perfect so it's good to be able to get some extra help to improve my scores,' she said.

After some years of making the videos at night while working full-time during the day, Mr Khan decided to incorporate the not-for-profit Khan Academy in 2008 and last September quit his job.
He sees no limit to the videos he can create. 'I concentrated on maths and science because that's where there is the greatest need,' he said from his home in Mountain View, California. He wants to provide lessons in 'nearly everything' from grammar to philosophy to law.

Nor does the tutoring end with the videos. Users can sign into a Web application that can generate endless problems on any given topic for students to solve. If they get stuck, there are hints on how to proceed to the next step and links to explanatory videos. Behind the screen, an analytical tool keeps track of the student's progress.

'It closes the loop in the traditional classroom model,' said Mr Khan. 'In a class, the teacher delivers a lecture aimed at an average student, followed by homework where there is little help if the student has difficulties, followed in turn, by tests and then the class moves on to the next lesson, no matter if the student has scored a C.'

The Khan Academy improves on this by allowing self-paced learning that provides plenty of practice until the student achieves proficiency defined as scoring 10 answers right in a row. Only then does he move on to the next level.

All this, for free. Mr Khan relies on his rheumatologist wife to bring home the bacon. They have an infant son. He earns about US$1,500 (S$2,100) a month from the advertising that YouTube inserts into the video and shares with him - enough to pay for the servers and the broadband. He hopes to be self-sustaining in a year, and is in talks with philanthropic foundations so he can expand his operation.

Mr Paul Pickett, a father of five in Salt Lake City, Utah, said two of his children, aged nine and 14, benefited from Mr Khan's website. 'The schools helped but they have limited budgets and limited time. And I could not afford private tutors.'

While videos are Mr Khan's calling card now, he envisages in the long run a worldwide virtual school where students can interact with one another in a learning environment.