On 10 April 2025, former Nominated Member of Parliament (NMP) Calvin Cheng posted on Facebook recounting a meeting with two senior Ustazs, during which he said he had expressed “deep remorse” over remarks that had caused significant offence within Singapore’s Muslim community.
He met with two senior Ustazs at Yusof Ishak Mosque and publicly acknowledged that his comments, while meant in jest, had caused “hurt and anger.”
Three days earlier, however, Cheng had instructed lawyers to issue legal threats to media outlet The Online Citizen (TOC) and several individuals. The letter demanded retractions and apologies for characterising him as Islamophobic and a threat to racial harmony. Cheng has since continued to pursue legal action.
Despite the seemingly contradictory messages — an apology on one hand, a lawsuit on the other — Cheng has not faced any known legal proceedings or formal investigation, although police reports have been lodged and the Islamic scholars’ body PERGAS publicly called for accountability.
Contrast this with the case of rapper and activist Subhas Nair, who served a six-week jail sentence beginning in February 2025.
Nair was convicted of attempting to promote ill will between racial and religious groups through online comments made between 2019 and 2021.
Nair’s offences included commentary on racial bias in policing and judicial leniency.
He referenced a viral video made by Chinese Christian individuals, alleging that Malay Muslims would have been treated more harshly for similar content. He also posted a criticism comparing media coverage and legal outcomes between Chinese and Indian suspects in high-profile cases.
While Nair argued in court that his intention was to highlight inequality, not promote hostility, the High Court upheld his conviction.
Justice Hoo Sheau Peng said Nair’s explanations were “disingenuous” and his posts likely to incite ill will between communities.
The court held that malicious intent was not necessary under the law, and his repeated posting after receiving a conditional warning showed disregard for legal boundaries. The comments, though presented as activism, crossed the line into unlawful speech, the court ruled.
Throughout the proceedings, Nair did not offer a public apology or meet with representatives of the communities said to be affected by his words — though it is unclear whether such opportunities were available to him, or who within the Chinese Christian community could have acted as a representative body to receive such an apology.
This leads to an uncomfortable but necessary question:
Who gets to apologise — and who doesn’t?
Cheng’s remarks, also directed at individuals from a minority community, were described by Minister Masagos Zulkifli as “uncivil” and “deeply hurtful.”
PERGAS condemned his comments. And yet, the apology, the mosque meeting, and the framing of the remarks as a misjudged “joke” appeared to neutralise further institutional consequences.
On the other hand, no religious body or Cabinet minister offered a path for reconciliation to Subhas Nair. There was no stage set for remorse. No symbolic meeting. No possibility of “resetting” the damage.
One might ask — sarcastically or not — should Nair have sought forgiveness from the police or the Chinese Christian community? Would it have made a difference?
Or was the space for apology never offered because the nature of his criticism — aimed at state institutions and systemic inequality — was too politically charged?
Cheng publicly criticised activists; Nair publicly criticised power.
The law is applicable to both.
But only one was given a cultural and political path to express contrition, however calculated it may have seemed. For the other, even raising questions of unequal treatment became part of the charge sheet.
While free speech in Singapore is bounded by laws designed to protect communal harmony, the process of accountability appears far from uniform.
Whether someone is punished, forgiven, or merely warned may depend less on what is said than who is speaking, who is offended, and who has the power to accept an apology.
In the end, Cheng walks a complex line between remorse and retaliation.
Nair, meanwhile, served time for trying to speak about that very imbalance.
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