The value of counternarratives in a crisis

Regarding its response to Covid-19 outbreak, the Singapore government’s narrative so far has been to claim that:

(a) the breakout among migrant workers is due to the “communal living” habits of migrant workers,

(b) everything is good/great on the ground, we should consider it a success that outside the migrant worker community, infections are low,

(c)  regarding migrant workers, the government is very generous and worker-centred in their approach, and where things aren’t perfect, they either:

• couldn’t have been anticipated (hindsight, etc),

• the problems are just a matter of logistical difficulties that are impossible to avoid (teething issues, scale, etc), or

• the problems are someone else’s fault (errant employers, dorm operators, non-compliant workers, etc), and the government will take these people to task

(d) there are adequate channels in place for workers/those assisting them to flag issues, and so any good faith feedback should only be given privately, through the channels provided.

(e) To criticise publicly is distracting, inefficient (makes the FAST team “run around”, according to Minister Zaqy Mohammed), demoralising and an exaggeration of the problem.

The dangers of a single story

For citizens to come to considered conclusions about these claims we need to be able to consider the state narrative alongside counternarratives. For this, we need to be able to ask questions, offer alternative explanations/ideas, critique decision-making processes, point out flaws and share accounts that contradict these claims.

While it is understandable that in times of great uncertainty, many people find comfort in a single story, it is especially now that we need complex stories, not simplistic ones, even if they are more ambiguous and uncomfortable. Our predicament deserves - and demands – immense attentiveness, empathy and humility from all of us, especially our leaders. If we don’t create space for that, then we are short-changing ourselves of the opportunity to really learn all the important lessons from this experiences, which will allow us to grow as a society, reconsider our values and practices, and emerge more resilient, humane and just as we work through this tragedy.

It is not only fair or acceptable, but necessary, that we make space for critical voices in this time, because without that, the story we are left with when all this ends is that we did our best, we did everything right. In fact, we were very compassionate and generous, and so things can just go on as they have always been. If we ask the uncomfortable questions now, we can start exploring what needs to change, and how we can create a society where everyone is able to thrive and no one community suffers so disproportionately, whether in regular times or during a crisis.

Why now, and not later?

Many have said now is not the time to criticise or demand change, we can talk about all the problems later, when the pandemic is over. So why now, and not later? There are four main reasons, in my view:

(1) If we detect the weaknesses of our current approach in real time, and that feedback is taken seriously by decision-makers, we can still do better in how we are handling this crisis as it unfolds.

(2) Narratives are powerful, and if we allow the state’s narrative to cement now, it will be difficult to contest it later, when people get attached to it. It is worthwhile to talk about underlying issues that afflict our society and share/create imaginaries of different futures now, while we are all grappling with the world as we knew it coming to an end and contemplating the one we want to create going forward.

(3) In the aftermath of a crisis, too, there will be calls to focus on celebrating the heroes who got us through this crisis (which is entirely valid, but frontline workers’ sacrifices don’t represent the state’s success). We will be told that this is the time for praise and congratulations, and not to be a party pooper/killjoy who robs our society of the rush and relief of emerging on the other side of this crisis. For those who seek to silence criticism, there is no good time for it.

(4) After the pandemic is officially declared over, vulnerable communities and many of those infected by the virus will continue to struggle with the economic aftershocks, long-term health consequences and other challenges. We must be vigilant now, and put in place measures to cushion mid-term and longer-term impacts, so that we don’t again say the devastation to some groups couldn’t have been foreseen. And to prepare for this uncertain future together, we must listen to voices on the margins now.

What can counternarratives offer?

1)  Transparency. The public deserves to have more information that the government is providing. They deserve to have information from various sources, especially sources that are not curtailed by any pressure or censorship from the government. Transparency creates the conditions for citizens to make informed choices, take action, and participate more fully in social and political processes.

2) Pressure. We’ve seen that public attention to some of the problems on the ground has been quickly followed by government response to the problem. Since the government will not acknowledge if/when their response is directly due to this public pressure, we have to base our understanding of how effective this pressure is by studying timelines and patterns of government response in relation to public scrutiny. So far, my observation is that there is a positive trend. Some of the issues activists have been posting about over the last few weeks saw improvement, and those that went viral saw improvements sooner, such as with the food issue. In some cases that we have not posted about publicly, we have yet to see change, and in some, change came without public advocacy. Another aspect is that the existing feedback channels to MOM/MWC/FAST teams are also not as straightforward as politicians like Josephine Teo and Zaqy Mohammed have made it sound. There are many barriers workers continue to face in providing feedback, and then having that feedback taken seriously.

There is also a need to draw attention to systemic problems, and and put pressure on the state to adopt certain measures across the board, rather than just address a specific worker’s problem. While some groups choose to make these recommendations behind closed doors, because they think the government is more likely to be responsive to that (and if this is true, we have to ask why, and if this is healthy), there can also be value to making them public – it allows citizens to weigh in and be part of the conversation. By making our critique and demands public, we are inviting a much bigger group of people to take ownership of this issue and put pressure on the government to take action. In this way, activists also hold themselves accountable to fellow citizens and create more space for vibrant civil society participation.

Additionally, there’s the question of access. Not everyone has the ear of someone in government, or the ear of anyone who has the ear of someone in government, so it is difficult for them to advocate for the issues they are concerned about through private channels. Galvanising public pressure is therefore the most viable option for some.

Along with reporting on the situation, many of us also share what steps migrant workers and NGOs think needs to be taking to improve the situation, or pose questions that we think the government should be answering. We also suggest actions that citizens can take, like writing to the relevant authorities with specific demands, taking part in ongoing projects, donating, signing petitions, etc.

At the very least, our efforts put pressure on the government to share more information, even if only in an attempt to counter our claims, and that is still a good outcome.

3) Bearing witness. Many of us want our pain, and the injustices we suffer, to be seen by others. It can be a profound act to bear witness to another’s pain. Bearing witness is also an important act of solidarity. Many migrant workers, too, want their experiences to be shared, their stories to be heard. Regardless of whether their suffering is alleviated in material ways, knowing that others see and hear their truth, stand with them, are outraged on their behalf, and are demanding change on their behalf, can be powerful and healing on its own, in affective ways. Of course, this is no substitute for, or excuse not to provide, material support. But at the very least, we should bear witness to the uncomfortable truths that powerful actors seek to silence. In confronting the suffering of disenfranchised groups, we also see our systems and structures more clearly - who they protect, who they neglect, and what the costs (or “trade-offs” as policymakers like to call it) of our choices are. If suffering - and the brokenness of our social compact - is invisible, it can never be addressed.

4)  Giving voice. Critical voices from the migrant worker community are still heavily underrepresented in the ongoing discourse about the crisis. Many of the migrant worker voices highlighted by the government and media are voices of gratitude used to boost the state’s version of events. Many migrant workers are aggrieved, and have critical perspectives on the systemic issues that underpin their current situation. They also have ideas, opinions and solutions to share. Many are not in a position to share these directly, so (a) amplifying the voices of those who choose to speak despite the risks they face, (b) using the platforms we have to highlight their perspectives anonymously, and (c) seeing how we can push open spaces for them to speak freely, without fear of repercussions, are important.

In conclusion…

In a time of crisis, it is easy for authoritarian regimes to grow stronger, to quell dissent more effectively through nationalistic rhetoric, fear-mongering and calls for “unity”. But times of crisis are also an unusual opportunity to transform these very same oppressive conditions. Whether we take this opportunity will, in large part, be determined by the space we make for diverse voices, critical reflection and bold ideas.