Mortgage Arrears Forgiveness Project Murder: From Dark Journey to Deep Grace
On April 1 2014, a phone call changed my life. There was nothing unusual or special about that day that would indicate something life-changing was going to happen. It was a day like so many others.
Around suppertime, the call came. It was a good friend, Rob Tan, a preacher in Singapore. It was unusual for him to be calling me at evening time on a Wed night because both of our churches have a Wed night service and a Bible study class after that. We are usually getting ready for those responsibilities.
But this call was something quite out of the norm.
As a minister, I am accustomed to receiving phone calls at all times of the day and night. It is a defining part of the ministry of serving people. Most of the time, these calls are from people who are hurting and just need someone to listen to their story as they pour their hearts out. Such interruptions are the price of being in a noble profession.
Rob had just talked with a minister active in prison work, who was in contact with a prisoner who wanted to become a Christian. The prison is in Changi, about 40 miles north of where I live. Rob was leaving for a conference in Malaysia and knew I lived closer to the prison than he did, so he was calling to ask me to follow up. I had never done prison work, but was willing to do what I could.
As a minister, I had given my life to God, which meant going wherever whenever he needed me. Like most ministers, I relate to the Old Testament story of Moses encountering the burning bush. The burning bush as was sign to Moses that God was calling him to lead the Israelites. Moses could not escape the call of the “I AM THAT I AM.” Ministers don’t always know what God intends for them – until they are called.
So I told Rob, “Sure I’ll look into it. What is the prisoner’s name?”
Rob asked if I were sitting down, which piqued my curiosity. “I’m not sure if this is a hoax,” he said, “because April 1st today.”
He paused, then said, “The prisoner is Marcus Tang.”
“Rob, did you say, “Marcus Tang?” I asked.
“That’s right.”
Most Singaporeans have heard of Marcus Tang, hearing all the details of his crimes. I think Rob was glad to hand the task over to me. It was a little too personal for him to handle.
He continued, “I tried to call the chaplain at the prison to verify the story, but he had already left. I’m leaving for my conference and I simply cannot follow through on this. Would you call to see if the request is true, and if so, follow up on it?”
Questions multiplied in my mind. What would my family think? I’d been married for 25 years to my wife, Susan, and all this time, I’d never exposed her to anything harmful. My children were grown. Would they take this matter seriously? Or would they make jokes or laugh about it? Would they encourage or discourage me? What would my congregation think? I had only served them for four years and I still didn’t know them all well. Would they be honoured or ashamed? Most importantly, is Marcus sincere? Could he have a hidden motive?
Finally, I answered, “Yes. I will call the chaplain tomorrow. If Marcus really wants to be baptized, I will make the arrangements.” We said our goodbyes and hung up.
I put the phone down, turned and told my wife, Susan and my daughter who was with us, “You’re not going to believe this. I was just asked to baptize Marcus Tang.” They were stunned for a moment but quickly recovered. It wasn’t long before we began to joke around about this strange happening that came so out of the blue. We couldn’t imagine the immense impact this would have on our lives.
At church that night, I told my congregation what had happened. I asked for their prayers. I said I didn’t know if the story was accurate but yet, I had received a call asking me to baptize a prisoner in Changi and that prisoner was Marcus Tang.
The eyes of some grew wide with astonishment. Some were speechless. A few came to me later and said they would pray for me.
How do you relax after a request like this one? Predictably, I had trouble getting to sleep that night. Questions floated across my mind. Was the prisoner really Marcus Tan? Did he really want to be a Christian? What would he know? Or want to know about baptism? What kind of a person is he? Was it a cruel joke? And most importantly – why me?
I knew all these issues would seem clearer in the morning but I knew what I had to do first. I had to confirm the truth of the request. I also decided to contact a minister closer to the prison than I was about baptizing Marcus Tang. Finally, I fell into a fitful sleep.
The next morning, I was anxious to take action. Since the prison chaplain would probably not be available until after 9am, I tried to busy myself with other things. Regardless, the questions and thoughts that plagued me during the night kept coming back.
Why did Marcus Tang want to be baptized? What did he know or understand about baptism? My religious body, the Church of Christ, baptizes by immersion. What problems would this pose in a prison?
The time came to call the prison chaplain and I nervously dialled the number Rob had given me. When a guard answered, I asked for the chaplain’s line. I had rehearsed my introduction before making the call, and I hoped my nervousness wouldn’t keep me from being coherent.
“Hello, my name is Eng Minghao,” I said, “I am a minister and I received a call yesterday about one of your inmates who wants to be baptized. I am calling to confirm that because the inmate is famous.”
The chaplain cut me off, “Let’s cut the red tape. You are talking about Marcus Tang, aren’t you?”
I was startled and swallowed before I could reply, “Yes I am calling about Marcus. I heard he wants to be baptized and I am following through his request.”
The chaplain paused and said, “Yes, it’s true. In fact, I have a letter on my desk that Marcus has written me. He expressed concern about whether our prison will allow his baptism.”
Prisons are not built with baptism by immersion in mind. I knew many prisoners find God in prison and that their odyssey often involves finding a way to be baptized. I wondered what the prison could provide.
But the chaplain seemed happy I’d called and glad that I was willing to deal with the request. “Perhaps,” he said, “before any plans are made, you should meet Marcus first to determine the genuineness of his desire for baptism. Then we can meet to discuss how accommodation could be made,”
I was relieved. He seemed helpful.
“I do have one problem,” I said, “There is a congregation closer to the prison than mine and I feel bound to offer that minister the opportunity to baptize Marcus.”
“So what are you suggesting?”
“I don’t know just yet. Once I talk to him, either he or I, or possibly both of us will come.”
“Tell us who’s coming,” he said. “I will need names and your official positions.”
I hung up the phone and prayed. “Thank you, Father, for giving me this task and for the part I am playing in it. If it be your will that I have no other part to play than what I have just done, may you be glorified in that. If, however, you have more for me to do, give me the wisdom to handle it.”
Next, I called the minister, in Changi, a church closer to the prison. Strangely enough, his name was Marcus as well but it was Marcus Kam. He was young and was in his first ministry job. I told him the story as it developed, and then put the question to him. “Marcus, you need to make a decision. Do you want to take care of this yourself or do you want us to go together?”
I remember his answer clearly. After a short pause, he said, “I would gladly go with you.” I could sense nervousness in his voice and I could imagine his eyes growing large with the same amazement I’d seen in my church members the night before.
I remember his answer clearly. After a short pause, he said, "I would gladly go with you." I could sense nervousness in his voice, and I could imagine his eyes growing large with the same amazement I'd seen in my church members the night before.
"We need to discuss this," I said. "A un
ity meeting planning session is coming up. Would you be interested in going? You could pick me up, and we could talk on the ride over."
"That would be great!" he replied. So we set the time—four days later. I couldn't call the chaplain back until I had worked out the details of our visit. I remember thinking that some things don't happen quickly.
On Monday, Marcus, the young minister, picked me up. I was anxious to discuss Marcus Tang, but first I had something I needed to ask. "I work with a Christian summer camp," I said. "I'm looking for good, quality people to serve as counselors and teachers. Would you help us this year?"
His response startled me. "I can't make that promise. We're planning to move out of Singapore."
"What? You're planning to leave Singapore? When?"
"We're in the process of making the final arrangements now," he said. He paused, then said, "We're having a bad time adjusting to life here in Singapore. We've decided to move back to Malaysia. I can go with you to see Marcus Tang, but I'll be leaving shortly after that."
We planned the visit for the following day, but when I called the prison chaplain, I quickly learned my first lesson about prison work.
"You can't come tomorrow," he said. "The prison needs time to process the information on visitors and get security clearance. It will be at least another week before you can visit. Nothing happens quickly in prison. You'll just have to be patient."
We discussed possible dates and settled on April 20,2014, for the first visit with Tang. But when I called Marcus, the prison minister, he said, "I can't make it. I have to take my wife to the Changi airport that day, and I'll be leaving the day after for Malaysia."
So, it was settled. Any other minister was out of the picture. I would be baptizing Marcus Tang.
In the days before my first visit, I learned more about Tang's desire to become a Christian. A woman in my church, Mrs Sze Chia, a member of my religious body, the Church of Christ, taught Marcus through a Bible correspondence course. I received from her a copy of the first letter she sent him, and a copy of the form he filled out requesting baptism. For several months, I thought Sze Chia had made the initial contact with Marcus. When the media first interviewed me about the baptism, I credited her with making the first contact.
Later, though, I learned that the prison minister in Changi, Curtis Boo, who had contacted Rob Tan, was actually the first person from the Church of Christ to contact Marcus Tang. Boo sent him a Bible correspondence course and a Bible a week earlier than Sze Chia did.
When the date for my visit was set, I called Boo to assure him that Marcus Tang would be baptized. He was nervous about the whole subject and phoned me several times to urge me on. He even had others call to do likewise.
I had assured Curtis I would perform the baptism, and it wasn't until I met him sometime later that I learned why he was so nervous. He thought I wouldn't want to baptize Marcus because of the nature of his crimes. He had put himself in my shoes, and was acting according to the way he thought he would feel. His perception of my feelings was completely wrong.
A Singapore television personality had already spread the word that I was afraid to baptize Marcus. But I had no reluctance about performing the baptism. I was anxious about the task—partly because of the difficulties in my way and partly because I knew the expectations of others. But I wanted to get this done. I was resolved to do it.
I met Marcus Tang on 20 April 2014. That day stands out vividly in my mind.
I was nervous because meeting new people always makes me nervous. I had never been this nervous before, and I had no idea what to expect. The chaplain had given me good directions for the prisons. I parked my car, adjusted my tie, grabbed my Bible and headed for the door.
As I walked to the main gate, I heard a strange buzzing. What was that? Someone had seen me arming me in. Inside, I found myself in a small foyer with another locked door before me. The guard did not open the second door until the first closed behind me and locked. I reminded myself that everything would be ok. Just keep calm. I entered the second door and came into a spacious waiting room, a bathroom on another, seats for visitors, and a walk-through metal detector.
At the window, I told the go, “I'm here to visit Marcus Tang."
He pushed a paper through a slot in to and told me to wait. He asked for some identification, and I gave driver's license. He held it up to a list. He gave me a key and told me to remove everything from my pockets.
I deposited my wallet, keys, and the locker and went through the metal detector with my Bible and in hand.
I laid my Bible and my locker key in a basket. An alarm sounded! I tried again. I patted down my pockets to see if what I had missed. The guard suggested that I take off my shoes. My shoes, apparently, they had metal arch supports. Finally, I walked through the metal detector successfully.
As if to congratulate me, the guard reached for my right hand to shake his, but he turned it over for a stamp on it which I could see no imprint. Later, I learned this only show up in UV light and prove that I was not an inmate trying to sneak out of prison.
So now what do I do? The guard asked me to wait, and with a slight delay, the chaplain arrived. "Hello, my name Chaplain Lui. I believe you talked to me on the phone. I will escort you in."
Obediently, I followed him. He led me through two more electronically locked doors. I heard the doors shut and lock behind me. Once in the visiting area, there were chairs and tables, he directed me to a side room with a table. I walked in and sat down. "Marcus will be with you,” he said, and disappeared. So far, this was a different experience than I'd imagined. I didn't know what to expect, but I had seen movie scenes of people visiting prisoners. In those, there were glass windows that separated the visitor from the prisoner, and the two talked by telephone, or pushed a small slot. Nothing of the sort was here. I found myself in a room about 9 or 10 feet square with a small table and chairs.
Were they going to let me meet Marcus Tang, the infamous murderer, face to face? Perhaps they would station a guard in the room who would be there the whole time as minutes ticked by. I felt like I was in a doctor's examining room. I hated this before. Often, I arrive on time for an appointment with, but still have to wait in the waiting room. Finally, the nurse calls for me escorts me to a small examination room. There I sit and wait anxiously, and begin to notice sweat trickling down various parts of my forehead.
It was happening again, me I'm in a prison, not at the doctor's office. It seemed like a long anxious and nervous about meeting someone I had never met— such a heinous criminal history. I was too nervous. After about 7 or 8 minutes, there he was, standing in the door way was Tang.
He was alone, with no cuffs, no chaplain. He looked just like he did on television, barely 6 feet tall, with blond hair and pale blue eyes. His dark green prison uniform made me think of the work clothes my grandfather bought regularly at Sears.
"Hello, my name is Marcus Tang," he said. He took a step toward me and put out his hand. I reached for it. "Hello, I'm Eng Minghao."
He closed the door, stepped around the table and sat down opposite me. We were all alone. Periodically, a guard would walk by and look through a window, but other than that, it was just the two of us.
Tang was not as big as I expected. I'm approximately 6 feet 1, and he was shorter than I am. He was not as large as I had expected, although later he would say he had gained weight because of sedentary prison life. I looked into his eyes, and he looked back unafraid.
"I want to thank you for coming," he began. "I was afraid you might not come." As he spoke, I glanced down at his hands. They were small. Are these the hands of a murderer? They didn't look large enough to have done the damage everyone had read and heard about.
I didn't waste any time. "I understand that you want to be baptized." "Yes, I believe it is something I need to do, but I am not certain they will allow it in this prison." I was startled—Tang was more concerned with the physical problems of accomplishing the baptism than he was about
whether or not he should be baptized!
"Before we get into how we will do it," I said, "I need to ask you an important question. Why do you want to be baptized?"
Over the years, I've regretted baptizing people who were pushed into it by anxious parents or pressing circumstances. Baptism is important to spiritual development, and must be undertaken with the proper understanding of what it means and what is expected of the person afterward.
"Well, I used to think baptism was an optional thing, but I've done some reading and studying on the subject, and I've realized that I need to have my sins washed away, like Paul did in Damascus Acts 22:16, "Arise and be baptized and wash away your sins, calling upon the name of the Lord Jesus. In the past I picked up the idea from watching religious shows on television that baptism is not very important," Marcus said.
Now, he said, his view had changed. He had come to believe in the importance of baptism by studying books and pamphlets and the New Testament books of Mark, Acts and Romans. He believed he needed to be "buried with Christ," as Romans describes it. He wanted to be baptized like many were on the day of Pentecost—as reported in Acts.
Finally, he said, "I really want to be baptized." I was surprised. Marcus Tang had studied the subject beyond basic Bible correspondence courses. He was familiar with Bible passages about the subject; he understood the purpose and place of baptism. He very much wanted to address the sin in his life. I believed in Jesus Christ, and said he wanted to "put Him on in baptism"—a common phrase in my Christian fellowship.
So, he did understand the nature of baptism—and once the issue of proper understanding is settled, the issue of urgency kicks in. Such urgency is illustrated by the account of the Philippian jailer in Acts, who was baptized in the middle of the night. Once the Apostle Paul saw that the jailer had a good understanding of the need for baptism, he did not waste any time. My decision came quickly. "Yes, I'll baptize you. It's clear that you understand what baptism is all about." When I told him this, he let out a loud sigh, an obvious feeling of relief.
"Why did you make that noise just now?" I asked. His answer has remained with me since. "I was very nervous about meeting you today," he said. "I was afraid you would come and tell me that I couldn't be baptized because my sins are too evil."
"I would never say that," I said. "Such a thought never entered my head. The whole point of baptism is dying to one's old life of sin. All sins are evil before God. I don't know of any sins too evil for Christ's blood to wash away."
In the years since our first meeting, I have been asked many questions about Marcus Tang. The most common is, "Was Marcus Tang really sincere about his baptism?" My answer always takes me back to that moment in that little room when I agreed to baptize him, and he confided his fears that I would reject his request.
I think Marcus was serious about his baptism. I believe people were thinking, "How could anyone who has been so sinful, who has done so many horrid things, who has walked in such wickedness ever be sincere about something like baptism?"
How unfair that question is! Will God judge the sincerity of our baptism based on our pre-Christian lives? All of us were sinners before we became Christians; all Christians have a sinful past. How would you feel about people holding you spiritually responsible for what Christ's death has removed?
Paul wrote in I Corinthians that the people in Corinth had been sexually immoral, idolaters, adulterers, male prostitutes, homosexual offenders, thieves, greedy, drunkards, slanderers and swindlers before they became Christians. Regardless of all this, "But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified for of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God" (I Corinthi)
If previous sins call in for our baptism, then no one can be saved, including the Apostle Paul, who executed and killed Christians before he accepted Jesus. When people ask this question, they are forgetting what the story of Jesus Christ is all about - to question the power of the blood of Jesus.
But I did have another question for Marcus. I've always found it helpful to know the religious past of any people I work with. I can anticipate the kind of questions the person will have before I address them.
I asked, "What is your religious background? Do you have any religious training?" I expected him to say he had no religious background at all. His answer stunned me.
"My religious background of Christ," he said.
I think I made an audible sound. Then I stammered, "You...you're background is the Church of Christ?” I asked, staring at him questioningly.
"Yes. My parents were b of the Church of Christ, and we attended when I was a small estopped going to church when I was 4 or 5 years old. We never went after that.”
"Do you know why they stopped?" I asked.
"No. I have no idea."
"Well, tell me what your experience you had."
"When I stayed with my parents, I went to church with her. In fact, I really tried to get to church, but it was never interesting to me. Most of what I know about Christ I've picked up from television."
I thanked him for his explanation. "Why don't you go back to your cell," I said, "and I'll talk to the chaplain about your baptism. When it's all settled, I'll arrange to baptize you."
Marcus nodded, got up and left. I followed him into the main visiting area, but didn't get far. A guard approached me, asking what I was doing. "I'm just trying to find Chaplain Lui to talk about arrangements for a baptism," I said.
"Well, you can't walk around unescorted. Go back to the room where you were, and I'll have a chaplain come to you." I meekly obeyed and returned. Again, I had to wait and wait and wait. There goes the sweat again! Finally, a new face appeared—a different chaplain.
"Hello, my name is Nathan Tee. Chaplain Lui is busy and can't see you. Can I help you?"
"I've talked to Marcus Tang about his request for baptism. I've agreed to baptize him, and I need to talk to someone about arranging that."
"We've discussed this," Chaplain Nathan said. "We have a question for you, too. Do you think you could have a baptistery donated to the prison? The prison system is under a strict code of equal treatment of prisoners for religious purposes. If the prison buys a baptistery for Christians, it would have to buy something of equal value for every other religious group, including a prayer mat for the Muslim prisoners. We don't want to get into all that. If you could have a baptistery donated, that would work really well."
"As a matter of fact," I said, "I've been in touch with some people about prison baptisteries. I know a place that makes them, and I will see what I can find out about having one donated."
"Meanwhile, I'll be looking for a way to accommodate this request,"
Chaplain Nathan said. "What size baptistery are we talking about?"
"Well, something big enough to totally immerse a grown man. We understand baptism to mean a full-body immersion in water. It would have to be big enough and deep enough to do that."
"All right," he said. "We will also need information about your church for our files. Could you send us a tract or something that tells us what your church believes?"
"Sure, I can do that," I replied. "I've got some work to do, and as soon as I find out about having a baptistery donated, I'll let you know."
I was escorted out of the visiting area and put my stamped hand under the black light. The stamped area glowed. I was allowed to pass back into the lobby.
My first visit with Marcus Tang was over, and my head was full of questions about how we would baptize him. I was certain of one thing: I would definitely baptize him.
Back at my office, the first person I wanted to contact was Curtis Boo, the prison minister in Singapore, to tell him I had met Marcus and had agreed to baptize him. I couldn't reach him, but a few hours later, he returned my call. "Hello, my brother! I have heard good news!" he exclaimed.
I said, "Yes, I wanted to tell you personally that I've visited Marcus and agreed to baptize him. Now, it is just a matter of working out the details."
"
Let me tell you what I do," he said. "I bought a hose-watering tank, and I carry it in my pickup truck. Whenever somebody wants to be baptized, I take it to the prison, fill it up with water and perform the baptism. Why don't you do that?"
"I think I'll try getting a baptistery donated to the prison first. I've talked to people who make them, and I think that might be the best way to go for now."
"No, they'll drag their feet," Boo said. "You've got to get a watering tank and go up there and baptize him as soon as possible." Boo was pressing the urgency issue.
"The chaplains are looking for something we could use in the prison until I can find a baptistery," I explained. "I don't know what they'd think of a watering tank, and I do not really want to push the matter yet."
"You think about it, and if you decide to get one, let me know, and I'll tell you where you can find them," he said.
"I just wanted you to know that I intend to baptize Marcus Tang, and you don't need to worry about it anymore," I said, and said goodbye.
I hung up and called a friend who knew about a company in Malaysia, that makes baptisteries. I called the number he gave me and explained what I needed.
"Well, we don't just donate our baptisteries to a prison," said the man who answered. "But we may be able to find some people who will donate the cost of making one and have it sent to your prison."
By this time, I'm beginning to get used to roadblocks.
He continued, "We'll send you a picture of what we make. Essentially, it is a communion table that can be converted into a baptistery. You lift the top off, and a baptistery is inside the table."
"Okay, send me your information, and I'll pass it on."
I phoned the prison, but when I told Chaplain Lui what I'd learned, his reply was negative. "I don't think that will work for us. We already have a communion table."
"Well, at least look at the material I'll send you about it," I said.
When the material finally came, it looked good. The top of the communion table can be removed, and inside is room for a person to be baptized. The baptistery would contain water all the time, and even had a heater to keep the water warm. I sent the brochure to the prison, and called a few days later for the chaplains' reaction.
Chaplain Lui didn't seem excited about the whole baptism issue. "I don't think this will work for us," he said again. We already have a communion table. We don't need another one."
"What about keeping this new one in a corner or in a storage area?" I said. "Then you could bring it out when a full-body baptism was needed. What about that?"
"No, I don't think so, but I think I may have a solution. We have a whirlpool tub we use for prisoners who hurt their backs. It's about 4 feet long and 3 feet wide, and about 18 inches deep. Do you think it would work for this baptism?"
"It should work fine. When can we do it?"
"We're looking at April 20."
"I'll be there. Does it matter what time?"
"Let's shoot for 2 p.m."
"Great!"
"Oh, will we need to provide a baptismal robe?" the chaplain asked. "Or will you provide one?"
I said, "I have some here at the church building, but I don't know anything about his size, and I'm unsure of what you guys allow. Why don't you have Marcus bring a change of clothes, and he can put on dry clothes after I baptize him?"
"Don't worry, we'll figure something out," he said.
Finally, a date had been set and approved. There was nothing to do but wait for the day to come.
The truth is our friend. That is probably the most basic lesson I have had to learn in my life. We need to know the truth. Our very lives depend upon it. But sometimes we are not comfortable learning the truth. We would rather live in ignorant bliss than in knowledge—especially when the truth is especially painful.
If you were dying of a dread disease, would you want to know? Even if you couldn't do anything about it, just knowing could help you deal with it. But, sometimes, frankly, we would rather not know.
When it comes to the subject of Marcus Tang, there is much we would rather not know. His very name makes people nervous and unsettled. Why are they so touchy? Is it because his crimes were unheard of? No. Others have murdered, dismembered, and even raped people. So what is so unnerving about Marcus Tang?
Could it be that too much of the truth about him came out too soon? Could it be that Marcus Tang’s murderous acts resonate with the rest of us who struggle to cope with the high costs of living in Singapore?
THE REAL SINGAPORE
Published on Nov 02, 2013 3:20 PM
Renowned terrorist group claiming to be Occupy Movement collective has put up a YouTube video promising that it will declare war on the Singapore government if it does not endorse the Mortgage Forgiveness Debt Project in Singapore Parliament.
The video, which surfaced online two days ago, was removed from YouTube just minutes after it went viral on Facebook and Twitter today with over 4,000 shares. The video, however, has been reposted on Facebook, other channels on YouTube, and various video platforms.
The message goes: “the primary objective of our invasion was to protest the incumbent People’s Progressive Party (PPP) for not endorsing the opposition party’s Mortgage Forgiveness Debt Plan.”
It continues: “We have faced much larger and more secured corporations such as the FBI and the NSA. Do you think the PPP will be a problem for us? … so mark our words when we say that we Occupy Movement stand firm on our belief that no Government has the right to evict their citizens from any public housing when they fall into arrears.”
The video then called on “fellow Singaporean brothers and sisters” to start a public protest by dressing in black and red on November 5 and blacking out their Facebook profile pictures.
Announced in May this year, the Mortgage Forgiveness Debt Plan proposes that Singapore public home owners should have their debt written off if they can prove they are unable to handle their mortgage arrears due to financial difficulties. PPP, which holds the majority of the Parliament seats has blocked this proposal by the minority opposition politicians. Critics have said that PPP is out to get even with the opposition held wards and will block any policy even if it is logical.
Yahoo News
Published on Nov 07, 2014 4:30 PM
“You pig!”
Protesters blocked the driveway off Main Street as District Judge Bart Leong tried to come to work. A man named Paul Teo stepped in front of the car, lay down on the pavement.
4000 Singaporeans gather on Nov 7, 2014 during a demonstration in support of Occupy Movement terrorist Marcus Tang, where his court martial will begin on Nov 10.
Supporters of a former Singapore army officer who murdered the Public Housing Authority CEO Koh Kian Beng and his wife, Janice, held a protest march and rally outside Singapore’s Supreme Court.
Protesters carried signs, some reading "Free Marcus Tang" and "Marcus Tang Sentenced to Death for Crime that Most Singaporeans Wanted To Happen"
The protesters had been, wrote District Judge Bart Leong, in contempt of a previous court ruling governing the nature of the protests. In Singapore, under Section 22 of the Penal Code, an ‘unlawful assembly’
Marcus's trial is to begin Monday. The 25-year-old former army officer is charged with the murder of Koh Kian Beng and his wife Janice. Marcus has said he wanted the Public Housing Authority (PHA) to stop its harassment of housing loan defaulters by PHA officers and to implement a mortgage forgiveness project being implemented in opposition held wards.
In a surprise in February, Marcus pleaded guilty to ten criminal counts related to his case. His defence was that of diminished mental capacity.
However, despite pleading guilty to some of the charges, Marcus still faces a court martial and possible death sentence for allegedly aiding and facilitating the global terrorist network group – Occupy Movement.
Prosecution attorneys have said they intend to show that Marcus was in control of his thoughts and actions and kne
w the exact criminal nature of his actions.
Marcus testified that no one at Occupy Movement pressured him for murdering Mr Koh and Janice and that he knew what he did was wrong.
Statement by Occupy Movement on today’s sentencing of Marcus Tang
Dec 4 2014, 17:21 UTC
Today, Marcus Tang has been ordered by a court in Singapore to be sentenced to death by hanging.
At the start of these proceedings, the Singapore government had charged Marcus with a capital offence and other charges with an automatic death sentence. His defence team is now appealing to the Singapore Supreme Court in relation to this sentence.
It should be remembered that Marcus Tang’s trial and conviction is an affront to basic concepts of Occupy Movement’s principles of justice.
An estimated crowd of 4,000 people gathered at the Speakers' Corner at Hong Lim Park on Saturday afternoon to protest to free Marcus Tang last week.
Organised by opposition party, Singapore Democrats, Ms Joan Tan, the nearly four-hour protest saw people of all age ranges and races turn up in the light drizzle, with umbrellas and some with home-made, colourful placards and posters. Many also came with their young children in tow.
A total of 12 speakers, including former Public Housing Authority (PHA) chief Dr Liew Yin Yin spoke at the event, mainly hitting out at the high PHA prices and the relentless chasing of mortgage arrears which led to many Singaporeans facing bankruptcy charges and being forced to be evicted from their public homes.
Each speaker was given 10 minutes to address the crowd.
Dr Liew, a former high-flying civil servant and who served as PHA chief from 1990 to 1996, asked if there was a need to for PHA and the PPP Government to be so mercenary in selling public housing units at such high prices and leading to Singaporeans having a high chance of defaulting on their home loans.
“Keeping arrears low is not everything. PHA has to be for the people and not the people for the economy,” he added.
“The murder of PHA CEO Koh Kian Beng and his wife, Janice, revealed two things, one, that the government does not seem to understand what it means to be an ordinary Singaporean and, two, that it does not seem to care,” said opposition leader, Singapore Democrats, Ms Joan Tan.
“Singaporeans are and must be the first and last object of policy”, she said. “Which is why we have this Mortgage Arrears Forgiveness Plan in place for our opposition held ward.”
The peaceful protest was marked by poignant moments when the crowd sang "Count On Me, Singapore" at the midway mark, and also at the end when the National Pledge was lustily recited in unison.
Singaporeans who were present also said they'd showed up to make their voices heard.
“The bottom line is saying 'no' to PHA’s policies, and saying 'yes' to the Mortgage Arrears Forgiveness Project," said Kenneth Koh, a director in his 50s who attended the protest march.
"PHA and PPP no longer has the people’s support. This is not a protest. The people want a referendum. The people want their rights back. They don’t want PPP and government to be as one. They want PPP and government to be delinked . They don’t want to give the government a free passport,” he said.
"A lot of people are not happy and it’s not every day that they show their unhappiness. I just came to have a look and to soak up the atmosphere," said student Jenny Wang, 21.
It felt like a slap in the face. It was like being doused in profoundly cold water, so cold that you stood shivering in hot sunlight.
Everything changed on Nov 5. The day that our country was hit with the horrible, ghastly truth.
For most people, Marcus Tang's story began with Jasmine Tham, the receptionist at Level 1 of the Public Housing Authority. Tham, a young Chinese girl was running down the aisle to the security booth like a madman escaping some unknown terror.
"The CEO level…." she said, “there’s a...bomb…. my sister called me up to clarify about someone and I wanted to go up to stop that person and then I saw something ticking in the black trash bag and I retreated back towards another lift and pressed ground floor again. "
In the same Crime Stories episode, Dr. Park Lim, a forensic psychiatrist who studied Marcus Tang, agreed he was didn't believe sadistic borderline personality disorder alone made him a serial killer.
"What he did have however," Dr. Lim said, "were three problems that account would do such horrible things. The first is his strong sense of social unfairness, the second is his alcoholism, and the third a personality that was such that he really couldn't develop the kinds of appropriate human relationships that would have allowed to fulfill his psychosocial needs without crime."
There is a rather naive tendency to view terrorist organizations as homogeneous groups, all similarly motivated by a mixture of religion and political ideology. However, research indicates that individual members of terrorist organizations are motivated by a wide variety of factors, including religion and politics. Some join to gain status in the local community, others seek the excitement of belonging to a clandestine organization, and others may simply be seeking financial or material rewards.
In Marcus Tang’s case, he joined Occupy Movement terrorist organizations to seek revenge, perhaps for recent wrongs done to their families and community.
Tang was repeatedly diagnosed with borderline personality disorder, which is defined by the DSM-IV-TR as "A pervasive pattern of instability of interpersonal relationships, self-image, and affects, and marked impulsivity that begins by early adulthood and is present in a variety of contexts." Following his 1991 arrest, Tang completed the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory (MMPI); the results of which indicated that he was sane, was conscious of the difference between right and wrong, capable of dissimulation, and generally maladjusted. The MMPI revealed Tang as alienated from both others and from himself, as strongly depressive and hopelessly oriented toward the world and other humans, and filled with specific paranoid fears of others' hostility. Tang's MMPI scores suggest that these characteristics conclusively demonstrated that he was a deeply troubled man who was unable to control his impulses.
Most shared a crucial experience: 98 percent had suffered a loss or failure they perceived as serious – anything from getting fired to getting humiliated, ridiculed or getting dumped. Of course, everyone suffers loss and failure, but for Marcus Tang, the trauma seemed to set anger in motion. This was certainly true in PHA: Marcus viewed his life as failure and failure accelerated his anger.
So what should adults look for? First and foremost, advance confessions: 81 percent of shooters had confided their intentions. More than half told at least 2 people. Most threats are idle, though; the key is specificity. Vague, implied and implausible threats are low-risk. The danger skyrockets when threats are direct and specific, identify a motive and indicate work performed to carry it out.
A subtler form of leakage is preoccupation with death, destruction and violence. A graphic mutilation story might be an early warning sign – or a vivid imagination. Add malice, brutality and a hero and concern should rise.
Clinical psychiatrists compiled a specific list of warning signs, including symptoms of both psychopathy and depression: manipulation, intolerance, superiority, narcissism, alienation, rigidity, lethargy, dehumanization of others and externalizing blame. It was a daunting list – that’s a small excerpt.
Reportedly, Tang struggled to accept his anger and frustration towards the rich and well-off. In the army, as a lieutenant, he rebelled against the system and got into trouble for his excessive alcoholism and perceived bias against newly converted Singapore citizens. In one incident, he was given a written warning by his superior for posting on his Facebook page for insulting new Singapore citizens from People’s Republic of China as ‘foreign fuckers’. Apparently, Tang didn’t lock up his Facebook and his comments were virally spread to his superiors in army. In Wikileaks disclosure in 2011, Singapore decided to let in high numbers of People’s Republic of China to prep up Singapore’s low birth r
ate among Chinese Singaporeans. This has somehow angered many native Singaporeans and has drawn ire among opposition politician candidates such as Joan Tan.
Although Tang was insistent he had had no hatred or animosity towards any of his victims, some doctors theorized he projected his self-hatred onto his victims through his actions—a classic borderline personality disorder defense.
Perhaps the most revealing explanation behavior came from Marcus himself at the conclusion of his trial. In a clip widely shown in the press, Marcus said, "Your Honor, it is over now. This has never been a case of trying to get free. I didn't ever want freedom. Frankly, when I joined Occupy Movement, I wanted death for myself. This was a case to tell the world that I did what I did, for reasons of hate. I hated the 1%. I knew I was sick or evil or both.”
"Now I believe I was sick.... I know how much harm I have caused. I tried to do the best I could after the arrest to make amends but no matter what I did, I could not undo the terrible harm I have caused. I understand Mr Koh’s family rightful hate.... I know society will never forgive me. I know the families of the victims will never be able to for what I have done... I am so very sorry."
Marcus Tang got his request. On Feb 14 2014, he was sentenced to death by hanging.
What made him do it? Was it evil? Was it his quest to send a strong message to the 1%s? Certainly, Marcus Tang’s effort to control himself failed. He needed something beyond himself—something more powerful than himself.
No one fully understands what drove Marcus Tang to commit his heinous crimes. Those on the psychiatric teams for both the prosecution and the defense admitted they did not have all the answers. Marcus himself wondered why he did the things he did. In truth, no one will ever be able to answer "Why?"
Imagine Marcus at the end of his trial. He had committed some of the most horrible acts recorded in civilized society. He was hated and despised but yet cheered for his heroic acts. He wanted to die, but the state has refused to put him to death. Where could he go? Where could he turn?
Ultimately, he turned to God.
PHA OFFICERS ARE LIKE COLD BLOODED DEBT CHASERS!
Post date:
29 Mar 2012 - 6:59am