It was a solemn moment, the formal swearing in of Singapore's third Prime Minister in 39 years of independence. Some 1,400 guests—the cream of the city-state's élite, as well as hawkers and taxi drivers—gathered last week on the lawns of the stately colonial mansion that houses the offices of Singapore's President and Prime Minister. But despite his reputation for formality, the man taking over as Singapore's new premier, 52-year-old Lee Hsien Loong, repeatedly flashed a broad smile as he strode to the dais to take the oath of office. And that surprising grin kept popping up throughout the swearing in.
Lee, eldest son of the country's founding patriarch, Lee Kuan Yew, had plenty of reasons to be happy. After 14 years as heir apparent, he was finally assuming a job for which in many ways he had been preparing all his life. His predecessor, Goh Chok Tong, Prime Minister since 1990, has handed Lee a remarkable legacy. A few days earlier, the government announced that GDP growth for the first half of the year was a booming 10%—a signal that Singapore is finally shaking off a malaise sparked by the Asian financial crisis of 1997 and extended by last year's SARS epidemic. Politically, too, Lee is inheriting a sound ship. His People's Action Party, which has ruled since 1959, holds all but two of the 84 elected seats in Parliament and won three-quarters of the popular vote in the 2001 general election, one of its best results ever.
But Lee had other reasons to display his kinder, gentler side. Even Lee's predecessor Goh has said "Singaporeans would like Loong to be more approachable," noting that Lee's "public persona is that of a no-nonsense, uncompromising and tough minister," and adding that such attributes make some fellow citizens "uncomfortable." Those citizens, these days, need to be humored. For Singapore is changing. The nation has been able to build a prosperous society on the back of a deserved reputation as a safe haven for foreign investment and for a clean, effective system of public administration—not always qualities found in abundance in the region. But as Asia's cities modernize and its economies open up, Singapore—which has a population of just 4.4 million—must remain competitive. That may mean that the famously neat and manicured island will have to provide the sense of messy excitement that makes the world's great cities places where lively minds want to live.
Lee's leadership will be critical. Simon Tay, who heads the Singapore Institute of International Affairs, says Lee's success at projecting a softer image of himself—and at continuing to shed the government's reputation as nannying and authoritarian—will have a profound impact on the country's future: "It's not just a question of style. It's a very real issue in keeping the most talented Singaporeans here and attracting foreign talent." Indeed, newly installed acting Second Finance Minister Raymond Lim told TIME that attracting "creative and talented people" from overseas is a central pillar of the government's policy. To do that, he acknowledges, there must be a "new social compact" with both native Singaporeans and "new" citizens based on "a society open to change." Tay phrases it more bluntly: "Economic performance is necessary but no longer sufficient for Singapore to succeed. People want more—a gracious society, good services, more consultation of their views."
In his first speech as Prime Minister, Lee Hsien Loong was eager to show that he's well aware of those aspirations. Under his stewardship, he said, the drive for openness started by Goh would grow. In this new Singapore there would be room for "robust debate," more space for Singaporeans to express "diverse views" and "be different."
Few Singaporeans would dispute that Lee has all the qualifications to be Prime Minister, says commentator Colin Goh, one of the founders of the satirical website Talkingcock.com: Cambridge- and Harvard-educated, Lee speaks four languages fluently, was the youngest brigadier general in the army's history, and has spent 20 years in top government posts. Indeed, a poll by the pro-government Straits Times a few days before he took office purported to show that 83% of respondents believed Lee was the right man for the job. But it is a reflection of a continuing ambivalence about him that 47% of those same respondents believed that Lee's family connections helped him get to the top. Those doubts remain despite a concerted media campaign highlighting Lee's human side. Themes have included his battle with cancer in the early '90s, his sense of loss after the death of his first wife in 1982, the challenges of raising an autistic son, and the fact that he occasionally eschews his habitual suit and tie for a polo shirt. The Straits Times even detailed his permissive parenting style under the headline, IT'S OKAY TO ARGUE WITH THIS PA.
Social activist and former nominated opposition Member of Parliament Sinapan Samydorai is unconvinced. "They've been trying now for years to get us to believe in his kinder and gentle side, but it's all just spin." "We still don't know who Lee Hsien Loong really is," says commentator Goh, whose website regularly lampoons Lee's makeover attempts. "He's so opaque that we tend to project onto him our fears for the future, of reverting back to the bad old days." Those "bad old days" were, of course, the first 25 years of Singapore's history when it was helmed by Lee senior. Singapore then had some of the world's highest economic-growth rates, but critics of the elder Lee claimed that he tried to control virtually every aspect of life in Singapore and was intolerant of even the mildest political dissent.
Now 80, the elder Lee remains in his son's Cabinet with the newly invented post of Minister Mentor. The grand old man himself recognizes that Singapore has to change, repeatedly stressing the need for a more open, risk-friendly environment to encourage entrepreneurship. "We need a cultural change and it can't be bureaucratized," he told TIME last year, or else "we'll come a cropper." Meanwhile, ex-PM Goh will take over Lee's former title (and No. 2 position in protocol) of Senior Minister. Goh's continued presence may reassure some Singaporeans that the changes he initiated won't be rolled back. In fact, says Cherian George, author of the book Singapore: The Air-Conditioned Nation, those who are worried that they could lose relatively new freedoms such as the right to chew gum, watch risqué movies or dance on bar tops are missing the point. Although Goh did make some concessions allowing Singaporeans greater freedom in their private and public lives, says George, the space for political discourse—for example, the influence of opposition parliamentarians—has if anything dwindled. "Individual Singaporeans are far more vocal and are getting their views across to the government much more. But the minute they appear to represent some kind of organized dissent, then it's back to the old days."
Indeed, there are limits to the extent that Singapore will change. In a January address to the Harvard Club in Singapore, Lee Hsien Loong spent much of his speech on familiar themes: Singapore would continue to open up under his leadership, there would be more room for consultation, and so on. But what struck many observers was a warning: when any opponents engage in criticism intended "to show that the government is not pursuing good leadership or making good policy," Lee said, the government has to "rebut or even demolish them." Singapore's continued success may depend on whether its talented people come to see their new Prime Minister as a man who revels in such tough talk—or as someone whose smile lasts longer than just an hour-long ceremony.