What Names Can Do
SYONANTO: LIGHT OF THE SOUTH
The Japanese Occupation is a painful period in Singapore’s history. Our men were lined up
and shot, children were impaled and women treated as comfort women. Singaporeans were
referred to as “Syonan” by those who led our suffering. Singaporeans were made to sing
their country’s anthem. Singaporeans were made to learn their language. “Syonan” has
therefore become deeply associated with the traumatic experiences and suffering survivors
went through. Unsurprisingly, when the museum was named the “Syonan Gallery”, there
was discomfort and uproar amongst survivors and friends or family members of survivors.
They felt like the name legitimised, even celebrated, this painful period. The word “Syonan”
itself is extremely evocative. By acknowledging and using the word “Syonan”, it is a symbolic
acceptance of the Japanese leadership. Similar to how you might choose to refer to “Burma”
as “Myanmar”, it is a symbolic protest against a particular leadership. The government thus
responded and changed the name to “Surviving the Japanese Occupation: War and its
Legacies.”
However, many other citizens with a different view maintained that we should “leave it as it
is” and we “should not bury our dark past.” They claim, “We should use this as a stern
reminder of how fragile our sovereignty is for future generations.” This line of thinking is
rather problematic.
First, let’s set things straight. What’s the purpose of an exhibition or museum? It’s there to
remind people of the country’s history. It’s there to educate our future generation about what
previous generations have gone through. By setting up an exhibition, it is already a
strong sign that nobody wants to “erase” the dark past. That is why we have museums,
why we detail the suffering inside the museum, why we collect artefacts and anecdotes. As
much as it is for the future generation, museums are also for the victims. It is a place
to remember them, to remember the injustice they experienced and celebrate the courage
they displayed. As a place about the survivors and victims, it makes sense that they take the
victims’ feelings into account. Hence, a museum should remain as functional as possible –
educating the future generation yet respecting the survivors.
Since we are already enacting the past through an exhibition, why can’t we just name it
“Syonan Gallery”? It is clear nobody wants to erase the dark past, right? So, what is wrong
with naming it so? This is where the significance of a name comes in. When a place is
named “Syonan Gallery”, compared to the word “Syonan” appearing inside a museum panel,
it appears on many platforms. It appears on news websites, newspapers, social media
platforms and even books. It appears on the phones of survivors. It would cause them
unnecessary anguish and pain. Contrastingly, when the word appears in an informative
panel inside the museum, this extent of unnecessary pain is reduced. Because, guess what?
If the survivors want to avoid unnecessary trauma, they can just not visit the museum.
Furthermore, when “Syonan” appears on an informative panel – it is clear its usage is purely
educational. When it is used as a name of a place in the country, it is seen as a form of
legitimisation of the Japanese occupation. A name is that much more prominent.
But, pain educates people. It will cause people pain and they will therefore realise how brittle
our sovereignty is. Pain, indeed, can educate people. But, who exactly is feeling the pain?
When a debate motion based on this decision was released in a room filled with JC1 and
JC2 students, almost half the room rushed up to clarify – “What is Syonan?” I’m pretty sure
most of our generation feel more pain when we hear “Donald Trump” than “Syonan”. The
name “Syonan” means very differently to a survivor and someone who is casually reading it
on their phone. Let’s make it clear here – this pain is felt by survivors and their
families. Even if a portion of the future generation feels pain to an extent when they see the
name – I believe the same level of “education” can be achieved when we keep
“Syonan”, our artefacts and body counts inside the museum. Nobody said we had to
hold back on the gore, the injustice and the misery inside museum. In this sense, people
can still learn and the victims’ sentiments are respected.
Additionally, even if pain can better educate the future generation – it is doing so at the
expense of the feelings and trauma of survivors. If educating the future generation on
sovereignty is placed above all, it creates a dangerous rhetoric where anything that is
deemed not to be beneficial to Singapore’s future can be neglected.
Finally, this reversal of the naming decision should actually be a call for celebration. For the
first time, our paternalistic government seems to take into account the sentiments of citizens.
There was public outcry over the alcohol ban, over the tokenistic action of reserving the
presidency for Malay candidates – but the government rarely ever budges. But this time,
they actually reversed their decision and renamed the gallery. For a country with relatively
opaque decision-making processes, this is a first step towards better inclusion of citizens in
shaping our country.
All in all, as much as remembering the past and education is important, it seems simply
humane to take the survivors’ sentiments into account. Both can be achieved when we leave
the gore and our “dark past” inside the museum.
So, what can names do? Actually, a whole lot.