
When Lee Kuan
Yew wanted Singapore to become a garden city, to
soften the harshness of life in one of the world's
most densely populated countries, he did not write a
memorandum to the environment minister or to the head
of the agency responsible for parks and trees.
He did
not form a committee nor seek outside help to hire
the best landscapists money could buy.
For
one thing, in the 1960s, when he was thinking of
these matters, money was in short supply. In fact,
having been unceremoniously booted out of Malaysia,
the country's economic survival was hanging in the
balance.
For
another, there was no environment minister to speak
of then, so low down in the list of priorities were
these matters. When jobs had to be created and
communists fought in the streets, only the birds were
interested in flowers and trees.

But
Lee was interested. And he became personally involved
in the project of transforming Singapore from just
concrete and steel to concrete, steel, trees, shrubs,
flowers and parks. He would become personally
knowledgeable about soil and vegetation, trees and
drainage, climate and fertilisers.
And he
surveyed the world for ideas, taking advantage of his
travels abroad to look out for them.
In
France, for example, he discovered that the broad
tree-lined boulevards were possible because a
drainage system had been built below the pavements.
Around each tree was a metal grating through which
surface water flowed into the underground system.
The
problem of the grass in Singapore, which everyone
could see in the bald, yellow football fields, needed
a nationwide solution.
When
he saw beautiful rolling meadows in New Zealand he
was moved to ask for the services of two experts from
the country under the Colombo Plan technical
assistance scheme.
Lee
was told that Singapore did not have a grassland
climate in which rain fell gently from the skies.
Instead, being part of an equatorial region, it
experienced torrential rainfall that would wash off
the topsoil and with it the vital nutrients necessary
for strong plant growth.
In an
equatorial forest, with tall big trees forming a
canopy, the rain water drips down. But in Singapore,
where the trees had been chopped down, it would all
come down in a big wash.

But
Lee was not one to let climate get in the way.
Fertilisers would replenish the soil, and so began
the task of making compost from rubbish dumps, adding
calcium, and lime where the ground was too acidic.
Years
later, when economic survival was no longer an issue
and Singapore's success was acknowledged worldwide,
he was still working at it to make the garden city
possible.
When
expressways and flyovers sprouted all over the
island, he had officials look for plants which could
survive below the flyovers where the sun seldom
shone.
And
instead of having to water these plants regularly,
which was costly, he got them to devise a way to
channel water from the roads, after filtering it to
get rid of the oil and grime from the traffic above.
The
constant search for solutions would not end. When
development intensifed even further and the roads and
flyovers became broader still, shutting out the light
completely from the plants below, he did not give up.
The
road was split into two so there would be a gap in
the middle with enough space for sunshine and rain to
seep through and greenery and vegetation to thrive
below.
"I
sent them on missions all along the Equator and the
tropical, subtropical zones, looking for new types of
trees, plants, creepers and so on. From Africa, the
Caribbean, Latin, Middle, Central America, we've come
back with new plants. It's a very small sum. But if
you get the place greened up, if you get all those
creepers up, you take away the heat, you'll have a
different city," he said.

Making
Singapore a different city! That has been Lee's
constant obsession. Even when the difference had to
do with trees and flowers, subjects which one would
not normally associate with the man who has been at
Singapore's helm for 38 years, 31 of which he served
as prime minister, his approach to the problem has
been typically hardheaded and pragmatic.
For
him, the object of the exercise was not all about
smelling roses. In the end it was about keeping
Singapore ahead of the competition.
A well
kept garden, he would say, is a daily effort, and
would demonstrate to outsiders the people's ability
to organise and to be systematic.
"The
grass has got to be mown every other day, the trees
have to be tended, the flowers in the gardens have to
be looked after so they know this place gives
attention to detail."