Kevin Martens Wong reels off sentences in Kristang, which is among several minority languages in Singapore enjoying a new lease of life after a decades-long drive to encourage the use of English and Mandarin.
“Teng bong, ozi nus prendeh sorti-sorti di tempu,” the linguist told his eager students in the 500-year-old mish-mash of Portuguese and Malay — a greeting, and information that the class would be about the weather.
A former British colonial trading post that has long been a melting pot of different cultures, Singapore has an ethnically diverse population whose ancestors mostly came from across Asia, principally China, India and the Malay archipelago.
                    Photo: AFP
On independence in 1965, Singaporeans spoke an array of tongues.
English was common, but many used Chinese dialects, such as Hokkien, as well as Tamil from India, Malay and a smattering of more obscure languages.
But authoritarian founding prime minister Lee Kuan Yew (李光耀) believed change was necessary to ensure a secure future for the tiny city-state, which had been thrown out of neighboring Malaysia following a brief and stormy union.
                    Photo: AFP
He made the study of English compulsory in schools as he positioned the country as a global commerce and finance hub, as well as one other “mother tongue.”
For local ethnic Chinese, who today make up the majority of Singapore’s population, it was usually Mandarin, as Lee had an eye on China’s rise as a world power, while it was Tamil or Malay for other citizens.
CONTROVERSIAL POLICY
The policy initially ran into opposition from ethnic Chinese, most of whom trace their ancestry to southern China. Lee, who ruled Singapore for over three decades and died in 2015, described in his memoirs how he had to force the issue.
“To emphasize the importance of Mandarin, I stopped making speeches in Hokkien,” wrote Lee, who was ethnic Chinese, while most TV and radio broadcasts in Chinese dialects were also stopped.
Those restrictions still stand except in special cases, such as radio news broadcasts in Chinese dialects for senior citizens who struggle with Mandarin.
Non-Chinese tongues, such as Kristang, spoken by descendants of Portuguese colonizers who arrived in what is now Malaysia in the 16th century and married locals, also faded.
One thing that unexpectedly flourished was “Singlish,” a local patois that mixes English with words from the myriad tongues spoken in Singapore. It is still widely used, despite official efforts to discourage it.
In recent years however Singaporeans have taken more of an interest in their ancestors’ languages.
As well as Kristang, efforts have been made by organizations promoting Chinese culture to keep Hokkien alive. It is the Chinese dialect that is most common in Singapore but it has become less widespread, particularly among the young.
Other minority languages enjoying renewed attention include Baba Malay, spoken by descendants of Chinese immigrants who married into the local Malay population, which mixes elements of Malay and a Chinese dialect, and Boyanese, a language from a corner of Indonesia.
RECONNECT WITH THE PAST
Observers see a relaxation in attitudes towards the old languages in the city-state of 5.6 million, which has grown into one of the world’s wealthiest and most stable societies.
Most Singaporeans have already achieved an enviable level of English by international standards, lessening fears that focusing on other tongues will affect their English-speaking ability. There has also been growing concern about losing touch with the past.
Young Singaporeans’ desire to revitalize the languages is a “form of root-tracing” while for the older generation it’s due to a sense of nostalgia, associate professor Tan Ying Ying, head of linguistics at Singapore’s Nanyang Technological University, said.
“Linguists working in Australia, New Zealand, and the US, have dedicated frameworks and systems to revitalize minority languages that are in danger of being extinct,” he said.
“In Singapore, while there is such no formal system in place, the sense that these languages need to be ‘saved’ is felt by the communities of speakers themselves.”
The students learning Kristang — spoken in parts of the Malaysian city of Malacca as well as Singapore — attend classes led by Wong, 25, thrice weekly, and range from young professionals to senior citizens.
One of the first to enroll in the class was Wong’s grandmother, 81-year-old Maureen Martens, who lost touch with Kristang when she moved to Singapore from Malaysia in 1952.
“This is supposed to be my language, my heritage,” she told AFP, her eyes welling up. “I wish more people will learn it, especially people from my line like my grandchildren.”
US President Donald Trump may have hoped for an impromptu talk with his old friend Kim Jong-un during a recent trip to Asia, but analysts say the increasingly emboldened North Korean despot had few good reasons to join the photo-op. Trump sent repeated overtures to Kim during his barnstorming tour of Asia, saying he was “100 percent” open to a meeting and even bucking decades of US policy by conceding that North Korea was “sort of a nuclear power.” But Pyongyang kept mum on the invitation, instead firing off missiles and sending its foreign minister to Russia and Belarus, with whom it
When Taiwan was battered by storms this summer, the only crumb of comfort I could take was knowing that some advice I’d drafted several weeks earlier had been correct. Regarding the Southern Cross-Island Highway (南橫公路), a spectacular high-elevation route connecting Taiwan’s southwest with the country’s southeast, I’d written: “The precarious existence of this road cannot be overstated; those hoping to drive or ride all the way across should have a backup plan.” As this article was going to press, the middle section of the highway, between Meishankou (梅山口) in Kaohsiung and Siangyang (向陽) in Taitung County, was still closed to outsiders
President William Lai (賴清德) has championed Taiwan as an “AI Island” — an artificial intelligence (AI) hub powering the global tech economy. But without major shifts in talent, funding and strategic direction, this vision risks becoming a static fortress: indispensable, yet immobile and vulnerable. It’s time to reframe Taiwan’s ambition. Time to move from a resource-rich AI island to an AI Armada. Why change metaphors? Because choosing the right metaphor shapes both understanding and strategy. The “AI Island” frames our national ambition as a static fortress that, while valuable, is still vulnerable and reactive. Shifting our metaphor to an “AI Armada”
The Chinese Communist Party (CCP) has a dystopian, radical and dangerous conception of itself. Few are aware of this very fundamental difference between how they view power and how the rest of the world does. Even those of us who have lived in China sometimes fall back into the trap of viewing it through the lens of the power relationships common throughout the rest of the world, instead of understanding the CCP as it conceives of itself. Broadly speaking, the concepts of the people, race, culture, civilization, nation, government and religion are separate, though often overlapping and intertwined. A government