Transcription
Every generation produces remarkable leaders. But once in a century, someone appears who can see beyond their own nation. Someone who understands not just politics but civilizations. Lee Kuan Yew was one of those rare leaders. He was the founding father of modern Singapore. But his influence extended far beyond his small island. He understood America without being American. He understood China without being Chinese. And because of that, the world's most powerful leaders listened to him. He was one of the few people who could sit with an American president and then sit with China's leaders and speak to both with complete honesty. Not flattery, not ideology, just clarity. And they listened.
After he stepped down as prime minister, he continued thinking deeply about the world. Occasionally, he invited a small group of us, Ambassador Tommy Koh, Ambassador Chan Heng Chee, and myself to join him for lunch at the Istana. These lunches were simple, small table, light food, no ceremony, but the conversations were intense. He asked questions that went straight to the heart of geopolitics. What is America's next move? What is China's long-term trajectory? How should Southeast Asia adapt as the world shifts? He didn't want agreement. He wanted clarity. He wanted the world seen without illusion. He asked hard questions. He challenged our assumptions. He explored scenarios long before they became headlines. Those lunches were not just meals. They were master classes in how a small nation understands great powers and how a great mind sees the world. Those lunches helped shape my understanding of America, China, and the world. Today, I want to share the essence of those insights. What Lee Kuan Yew told America, what he told China, and why his warnings matter more today than ever.
Lee Kuan Yew admired the United States. He admired its energy, its creativity, its remarkable openness to talent. He often said America had been a benign superpower, one that allowed small states like Singapore to flourish. But admiration never stopped him from telling hard truths. For decades, Washington believed that China's rise would naturally make it more like us. Open markets would lead to open politics. Economic liberalization would lead to political liberalization. Lee Kuan Yew said very plainly, "No, China will not become an honorary member of the West. Not because China rejects democracy out of stubbornness, but because China is a civilization state shaped by thousands of years of non-Western history. It has its own political traditions, its own philosophies, its own social contracts." To assume that China would eventually look like Europe or America, he said, was to misunderstand China at its core. Western leaders often imagine that China might rise but still remain under American leadership. Lee Kuan Yew said this was impossible. As China grows stronger, he said it will want a voice that matches its weight. This was not a threat. It was not aggression. It was gravity. Civilizational gravity. A country of 1.4 billion people with 4,000 years of history will not be shaped by external pressure. It will shape itself.
Lee Kuan Yew admired American values. But he noted something American leaders rarely see in themselves. The belief that American values are universal and must be spread to the rest of the world. This belief has fueled interventions, sanctions, and political conditions across Asia, Africa, and the Middle East. And it creates resentment, especially in societies that have experienced colonialism. The global South does not want a teacher. It wants a partner. It wants respect. China understands this. America often does not.
In 1982, I sat beside Mr. Lee at the White House as he met President Ronald Reagan. The New York Times had mocked Reagan as a lightweight actor. But Lee Kuan Yew saw something deeper. He said Reagan makes the American people feel good again. To lead a great nation, he believed a president must project confidence, not confession, not doubt, not self-flagellation. Contrast this with President Jimmy Carter who wrote in his autobiography about stealing a penny as a boy. Mr. Lee was stunned. "Why does he tell the world this?" he asked. For Lee Kuan Yew, leadership required not only honesty but the ability to inspire. America often confused moral virtue with strategic strength, a point he raised often.
Lee Kuan Yew could speak to China with unusual clarity. Although he was ethnically Chinese, he was culturally global. He governed a multi-racial society. He thought in English. He understood how China's behavior appeared from the outside. And because of that, Chinese leaders listened to him with respect. In 1978, before China opened up, Deng Xiaoping visited Singapore. At the time, China was still recovering from the Cultural Revolution. It was still supporting communist insurgencies in Southeast Asia. But in Singapore, Deng saw something extraordinary. A modern, thriving city-state run by ethnic Chinese, but not communists. This shocked him. Singapore became, in a way, a living demonstration of what pragmatic governance could achieve. During that visit, Lee Kuan Yew delivered a message no Southeast Asian leader had dared to deliver. "China's revolutionary activities are frightening your neighbors," he told Deng. "If China wanted regional peace, if it wanted economic cooperation, it had to stop exporting revolution." Deng listened. Over the following years, China halted its support for insurgent groups in the region. It was one of the most consequential course corrections in modern Asian history.
Mr. Lee believed China could succeed if it embraced meritocracy, pragmatism, steady governance, and policy experimentation. He admired China's seriousness, its willingness to study, to learn, and to adjust. But he also warned China that modernization required humility. Arrogance would produce resistance. His message was simple: "Your neighbors admire your progress, but they also fear your size. If China acted with restraint, courtesy, empathy, patience, it would earn trust. If it acted with hubris, it would trigger balancing coalitions."
Lee Kuan Yew did not only analyze the great powers. He taught them how a small state can stand firm. In 1988, a United States diplomat in Singapore, Mason Hendrickson, was perceived as interfering in domestic politics. Lee Kuan Yew responded decisively. He expelled the diplomat. This was bold. America was the world's superpower. Singapore was tiny. But Mr. Lee's calculation was precise. His message to Singaporeans: "We are independent. We are sovereign. We are no one's client state." His message to Southeast Asia: "If Singapore can say no to America, it can say no to anyone." His message to Washington: "Respect must be mutual." America retaliated by expelling a Singaporean diplomat. But the relationship stabilized quickly because America understood something important. Lee Kuan Yew was not anti-American. He was pro-sovereignty. He wanted partnership, but a partnership among equals.
Today, the rivalry between America and China defines the century. But Lee Kuan Yew saw it coming decades earlier. He said something that startled many people in the West. "The rise of China is the biggest event in human history." He meant this literally. Not militarily, not ideologically, but civilizationally. China's return would reshape everything: economics, politics, technology, culture, and the psychology of nations. He told American leaders, "Respect China's history. Respect its desire for dignity. Do not try to convert it." He told China, "Move carefully. Your success creates admiration and fear. Do not provoke the region. Do not overplay your hand." He told Southeast Asia, "Stay neutral. Stay agile. Do not choose sides." He saw clearly that the world was entering a new era where coexistence would be a test of wisdom on both sides.
Lee Kuan Yew was a leader, a strategist, and in many ways an interpreter between civilizations. He understood the West's moral confidence. He understood China's historical memory. He understood Southeast Asia's instinct for balance. His wisdom can be summarized in three simple truths.
Truth number one: China will not become Western. Expecting it to do so creates unnecessary conflict.
Truth number two: America cannot lead the world by lecturing it. Partnership requires respect, not conversion.
Truth number three: The 21st century will require coexistence, not dominance. No nation can impose its model on a world that is now deeply plural.
This is why his absence is felt so strongly today. As Washington and Beijing drift further apart, as mistrust grows, as each side interprets the other through fear, the world has lost someone who could speak to both honestly. He was a leader who could say to America, "You misunderstand China," and to China, "You must move with greater caution," and to the world, "If you fail to understand each other, the price will be paid by everyone."
Lee Kuan Yew once said that the world must be made safe for diversity. Not a world where nations become the same, but a world where they accept that they are different. This is the key to the US-China rivalry. This is the key to peaceful coexistence. This is the key to the Asian century. He saw clearly. He spoke honestly. And he left us with a simple warning: If America and China cannot learn to live with each other, the world will suffer. That is the legacy of Lee Kuan Yew. And that is the lesson the world must learn.