Business Impressions

Four months after a U.S. election which arguably swung on the government’s role – or non-role – in a deteriorating economy, our trip to Southeast Asia gave us wildly diverging views each way. After two weeks in three countries … I’m more lost than I was in the beginning.

Singapore was particularly fascinating because, as one contact at the U.S. embassy put it, the government is involved in nearly everything. If there’s a Singaporean Reagan – which, since there’s no political opposition, I’m safely assuming there isn’t – he’s undoubtedly fuming silently. Simply put, the government’s business is business; it’s the ultimate venture capitalist, the ultimate shareholder. From our visits with various firms, it doesn’t seem like the government exercises direct control a la a planned economy, but it has a say in nearly everything. And, voila, Singapore’s GDP is the highest in the region, its political stability is safe in an otherwise seismic area, and it is working on a fifty-year plan (fathom that!). I don’t know what I’m eating for dinner tomorrow; Singapore has its economy planned for a time I might not see. So it goes. And wow.

From Vietnam, I had no idea what to expect. Having spent some time in the former Soviet Union, I’ve seen the gamut of former communist states which have “shrugged off the Soviet mantel” and emerged as “market economies”. I expected similar from Vietnam, but perhaps less so given that the communists are still in power. In Hoi An and Saigon, though, we saw a young, vibrant economy that paid (I guess) heed to the communist party, but for whom capitalism was the new nom du guerre. Thanks for independence, Uncle Ho, but we’ll shove the Marxism in the academic drawer for now.

Particularly weird was the fact that the hammer and sickle are still very visible in Vietnam. Uncle Ho’s banners, image, and quotations lead the way into Hoi An, and a huge party poster celebrating the revolution decorates the entrance to the main road. And yet still, Hoi An is one of the most vibrantly capitalist towns I’ve seen – the outdoor markets, the omnipresent tailor shops, the souvenir hawkers. Not a communist in sight. Perhaps the most ironic, though, was the guy who stamped my passport: a communist star on each collar, and between them, a Nike Swoosh. While the communists in Hanoi can dream up their revolution and keep a firm hold on power, capitalism has overtaken Vietnam. Perhaps its domino effect will spill into Laos.

It was tough to gauge the government’s involvement in business in Thailand. We heard whispers – the monarchy granted Boon Rawd Brewery the license to open in 1933, it’s important for Benchmark Electronics to maintain good relations so that they don’t have to pay taxes, though they make up for it in direct investment… While I’m sure the academics and economists could tell you exact figures, the government’s role wasn’t as readily apparent at first glance.

In any case, Bangkok screams capitalism, and the most outwardly gracious example came during our visit – nay, visits – to Boon Rawd. The brewery (producers of Singha Beer, Thailand's best-selling lager), cast Ceasar's proverbial die, welcomed us with more bells and whistles, chutes and ladders, pomp and circumstance than when the Pope visited Washington (I know. I was there.) For two days, we were visiting royalty, a state visit from the Duchy of Durham. A double-decker bus. Motorcycles that stopped traffic. A banner larger than the championship ones which hang in Cameron. A party boat. An executive reception. A staff photographer who snapped 1,007 pictures. A brewery tour. Puppet shows. Karaoke. Sightseeing vans. And a farewell dinner that sent us – some without sleep - directly onto our flight home.

First Impressions

Singapore, I first thought, was Southeast Asia’s Toronto: diverse, rich, safe, and 409-clean. But after exploring more deeply – wandering the streets and parks, and meeting with counterparts in government, industry, and education – has revealed a distinctly Southeast Asian soul, one I expected in Vietnam and Thailand, but far less so in a country known for its Western-like business regimen. Singapore, at heart, is a melting pot of Southeast Asia, one wrought with diversity and mutual respect; no landed gentry or elites, no ill-fitting colonial structures. While overtly Western on its surface, Singapore, at its core, is Southeast Asian. And here, our adventure begins.

“Singapore, Inc.,” as our embassy called it, represents far more government involvement than I’ve ever seen in a country (and, yes, I’ve been to five Soviet republics and I voted for Obama). A wholly private enterprise – while not forbidden – is practically non-existent. The prime minister, whose party has ruled parliament since 1959, is an uber-CEO. Order reigns; Jaywalk, litter, spit and be fined; the result is a remarkably clean, safe city that rakes in cash and plows it into public works and capital for new business. You can’t argue with results.

If the prime minister is the CEO, the nation of some 4.4 million are all shareholders. For a country with no natural resources, the returns have been staggering; within a few decades, Singapore’s GDP has grown from several hundred dollars to about $35,000 per head. The port, Singapore’s life blood, is the world’s third largest, taking in a fifth of the world’s shipments including all oil supplies to Japan and China (yikes). The government, no fool, sends its talent to study in major universities around the world (one, that I know of, in my Georgetown class), all in efforts to gain return for the shareholders. Ad maiorem patriae gloriam.

While business reigns, Singapore’s cultural soul is distinctly South Asian. Away from the land reclamation projects, the cranes which rival Dubai’s, and the huge waterfront highrises, a quick walk about the various neighborhoods reveals a vibe similar to Manila or Jakarta. Hindu, Buddhist, Tao, and Christian shrines dot the streets; Street food is present and sanitary, signs teem in Hindi, Chinese, Malay, English and other languages. "Sir, please!" reigns as you pass restaurants and vendors. Gargantuan apartment buildings house scores upon scores of people. The mall culture – shop and escape the Equatorial heat – is present. The smaller, and more mixed, population begets a vibrant street atmosphere without the pollution or overcrowding. Traffic is comparatively minimal.

Four days in Raffles’ “Lion City” are a staggering look at business and politics, and how the two can and do indelibly overlap with little friction or ruckus. While single-party rule may irritate Jeffersonians (don’t worry, Darden, we still love you), it strikingly works in a nation-state with less land than Kansas City, more clout over its larger neighbors, and tremendous financial resources to pour back into its people. Indeed, a highlight of any visit to Singapore is interaction with Singaporeans; many of whom were educated, intelligent, Westernized, and quick to point out the government’s role (a 50 year plan: ?!?) in keeping Singapore on Asia’s forefront, an ever glowing red dot drawing increased returns for all.

Expectations

Southeast Asia is one of the few – though, comparatively, some might say many – regions of the world that I have been obsessed with for quite some time. I’ve fulfilled some of those obsessions – the Balkans, Israel, for instance – and others – Iran, North Korea – will remain pipe dreams for years. The erstwhile Indochina, to sound somewhat un-PC, has been among that group of obsessions.

I’ve worked briefly in the region before. In 2005, I spent three days in Manila and five in Jakarta, fighting traffic and jetlag in each to show an Afghan ministry advisor around and garner best practices that (we hoped) could be replicated in Afghanistan. My impressions of each were somewhat superficial; jetsetting from ministry to ministry, hotel lobby to lobby to meet consultants and government officials. The limited tourism I did get consisted largely of wandering outside my respective five-star hotels; checking out the shopping mall culture in each, wandering the streets to observe the shops and jeepneys, or taking taxis to Jakarta’s “major” tourist monument, a tower with a flame on top.

What struck me about each locale, and which I expect to continue on this trip, is the “ordered chaos” and how each city operates at a pace which would swamp New York, let alone my adopted DC or native Boston. Traffic is choking; a two-lane road is at least four, and overcrowded buses, taxis, and pedestrians cut in and out without regard for their lives. From what I’ve heard of Bangkok and Saigon, that’s pretty much the norm there too.

Still, there’s an ordered chaos in all of that; the city moves at its breakneck pace because it knows no other way. Slowing it down would deter the vibrancy; somehow, order would diminish the charm. I expect the same on this trip, and look forward to witnessing, discussing, and experiencing it with my GATE-mates.

One last bit on the GATE-mates: having traveled to about 33 countries (42 if you go by the Travelers’ Century Club list) both with friends and alone, I can absolutely verify that location matters little unless you have the right people to experience that location with. Give me the clichéd halls of Rome or Paris with my best friend than the more exotic wilds of New Zealand – or Southeast Asia – alone. And as to my GATE-mates, I couldn’t ask for a better, more diverse group of companions to be going with. Compared to some other (unnamed) trips, our group has friends but not cliques, acquaintances but not BFFs. I look forward to ducking in and out of the chaos of Saigon or exploring (comparatively) rural Hoi An with all of them, turning unchartered territory into laughs, baffled questions, and memories.