The first time I met Lee Kuan Yew I was under strict orders not to open my mouth. It was 1987, I was a wire-service reporter, and Singapore's patriarch was in the middle of one of his periodic campaigns to show the Western press who was the boss in his city. When my father, also a journalist, secured an interview with Lee for a book he was writing and asked if I could tag along, Lee's people eventually agreed but only on condition that I not utter a single word. At one point during the interview, Lee launched into a...
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