GE2025: Rainbows, rallies and revelry – a weekend at the hustings
With crowds flocking to fields and stadiums across the island, Singaporeans are rediscovering the raw energy and communal fervour that only an in-person rally can bring.ST PHOTOS: KEVIN LIM, SHINTARO TAY, JASON QUAH
Carmen Sin,
Elizabeth Law,
Cherie Lok and
Shawn Hoo
Apr 28, 2025
SINGAPORE - Singapore’s general election rallies are always a spectacle, and this past Friday and Saturday, the island was positively ablaze with colour, character, and the unmistakable pulse of democracy in action.
This year’s campaign trail feels especially electric, as these are the first physical rallies in a decade – live hustings having been halted in 2020 due to the Covid-19 pandemic.
With crowds flocking to fields and stadiums across the island, Singaporeans are rediscovering the raw energy and communal fervour that only an in-person rally can bring, making GE2025 a historic return to form.
Saturday was particularly hectic with nine rallies across the island. PAP held three of them with Prime Minister Lawrence Wong and Manpower Minister Tan See Leng energising the crowd at a hard court in Chua Chu Kang GRC, while Deputy Prime Minister Gan Kim Yong and Senior Minister Teo Chee Hean headlined one at Yusof Ishak Secondary School in Punggol GRC.
Meanwhile, at
PAP’s rally for East Coast GRC at Bedok Stadium, the mood was a mix of curiosity and conviction.
The evening started with the hosts launching quickly into the agenda (“turning the blue sky white”) and a tutorial (“when I say ‘majulah’, you say ‘PAP’”). Activists gave testimonials of PAP’s East Coast slate leader Edwin Tong’s bravura.
Men and women in white pressed balloon sticks, whistles and lightning-imprinted paper fans into restless hands that found scarce use for them until the first notable appearance – retiring Potong Pasir MP Sitoh Yih Pin – close to 8pm.
Mr Sitoh – the first but not last to bid listeners vote for “your children’s children’s children” – was followed by Mr Lim Swee Say, a former MP for East Coast GRC known for his folksy manner when he was labour chief, who got murmurs of approval (“I like that he sounds like us,” went one review).
Constant arrivals and departures turned the stadium into a revolving door.
The bigger fringe, by now sunk into their seats, were persuaded to look up, then back down. Even when the running candidates arrived around 8.20pm and the white-shirts on the field made several inspired cracks at a PAP chant, they kept poker postures.
Why had they come?
Many like 68-year-old resident Peter Lee were at a PAP rally for the first time. Not all could pin down their sudden interest but the retiree gestured at a new political moment: “Newcomers are coming in, both (sides) are qualified.”
A joke that his last name was “Lee for Lee Kuan Yew” was a jolt. The founding father had not been invoked even once at the podium, though opposition candidates had early in the hustings declared their inner “iron” – a sign of the tug of two narratives.
Reluctant fence-sitters have been produced. One of them, 62-year-old Tan Eng Hwa wept at the sight of Deputy Prime Minister Heng Swee Keat, who he vouched for, with hand on heart, as a “gold class” friend to the elderly. But on the pitch, he kept one eye on a live feed of the
concurrent WP rally, citing soaring housing prices and a conscience for the young.
“We have to look at both,” Mr Tan said. DPM Heng, who had led the PAP slate in East Coast from 2020,
announced his retirement from politics on Nomination Day and Mr Tong is taking over to helm the team.
And it was the WP’s pull that weighed heavy on the night’s big speeches. Messages of geopolitical crisis, the PAP’s steady hand and estate management nous got some love, but it was Mr Tong’s snipe at his rival party’s implausible plans (can they stand?) that earned an unmoderated cry of “no!”.
Supporters of Minister for Culture, Community and Youth Edwin Tong at the PAP rally for East Coast GRC at Bedok Stadium on April 26.ST PHOTO: GAVIN FOO
Newcomer Dinesh Vasu Dash’s indictment – “What have they done for you? They have been talking and talking since 1981!” – drew a young girl, to remark on his confidence. (“First-time candidate can say all these things ah?”) The year 1981 was when then WP chief J.B. Jeyaretnam won the party’s first parliamentary seat post-independence in the Anson by-election.
The rhetoric was so polished, few could find fresh purchase. Charisma – like the breathy timbre of electoral debutante Hazlina Abdul Halim’s voice – was noted but not dwelt on.
By 10pm, the stands had thinned. Save for a lively clutch of bona fide fans bearing signs and waiting to shake hands with the leaders – Mr Tong’s numbers were on a par with DPM Heng’s – the crowd had left as quietly as they had come.
There was a sense that the night had vindicated all positions. A Chai Chee resident said for good measure, he would check out the WP but his loyal PAP vote was already decided.
A 60-year-old sceptic waved at the smattering of plastic sleeves on the ground, seeing metaphor in the detritus of PAP party favours: “Things are given out and this is what happens. They think someone else will clean it up.”
Talking up a storm
The rallies had got rolling under stormy skies in Bukit Panjang on Friday.
The first was held in Beacon Primary School – tucked between the Bukit Timah Expressway and a quiet neighbourhood road – where supporters of the Singapore Democratic Party gathered in force.
A persistent lightning risk warning and flashes of electricity across the night sky mirrored the SDP’s uphill battle. Yet, right before the rally was about to begin, the skies eased up, and a rainbow peeked out through the clouds against the setting sun.
A rainbow seen at the SDP rally for Bukit Panjang SMC at Beacon Primary School on April 25.ST PHOTO: JASON QUAH
The
SDP rally at Beacon Primary School was the night’s only hustings – the other parties were gearing up for Saturday.
A senior, hair dyed black, joked loudly to his friends, mostly men of similar vintage: “We’re older now so we have to use whistles instead of just shouting because we don’t have the strength any more!”
When asked if this was his first rally in a long time, he blew his whistle in response. Ditto when asked if he bought the whistle from the merchandise stand.
As the drizzly evening gave way to a cool, starless night, a post-dinner crowd filled up the playing field, undeterred by the muddy grass.
“I came all the way from Jurong because I think opposition politicians are very courageous and need to be supported,” said a retired civil servant, 60.
Meanwhile, party volunteers waved giant SDP flags as the party candidate, Professor Paul Tambyah, took the stage just after 9pm to loud cheers from the crowd.
But it was Dr Chee Soon Juan who, despite having to leave and return to the stage three times because of technical issues, drew the biggest cheers of the night. As he spoke, lightning flashed above, lighting up the dark pink sky.
The symbolism was not lost on a 21-year-old law student from Singapore Management University, who was attending the rally with her father and 14-year-old brother.
She was excited about her maiden political rally experience but got slightly concerned after her father, who works in a government-linked corporation, cautioned her against revealing her name to this newspaper.
“I’ve just missed the cut-off to vote but for me, it’s important to see candidates who follow through with what they say, and not just make promises during the campaign for votes.”
Later, she was spotted in a post-rally queue for a meet and greet with Dr Chee. Also in the queue was polytechnic student Ho Jun Wei, 18.
“I’ve always had a keen interest in politics, so getting to hear Dr Chee in person and getting to meet him was quite an experience,” he said, adding that he had attended the WP rally in Sengkang the night before.
Saturday night fever
As Friday’s rainbow faded, Saturday brought a birthday bash with a political twist in Bukit Gombak. It was the day Dr Tan Cheng Bock
turned 85 years old. The festivities started in the morning at Teban Gardens Food Centre – with a bowl of longevity noodles, two red eggs, and two cakes – and continued late into the evening.
As the sun set, residents, supporters and curious onlookers streamed into Bukit Gombak Stadium, where Dr Tan’s PSP was gearing up for its second rally. It was not his constituency, nor his celebration per se, but there was little doubt about who most of the audience was there to see.
A “righteous man” was what Mr Johnson Lee called him. He knows friends whose grandmothers received medicine from Dr Tan, even when they could not afford it. The 56-year-old retiree has never personally sought treatment from the veteran politician, but remembers how Dr Tan sent him heartfelt good wishes after he underwent surgery.
“He’s like my ah gong. I can tell he loves everyone, whether rich or poor.”
Kicking off the three-hour-long event was the chairman’s West Coast-Jurong West GRC running mate Sani Ismail. Taking to the podium flanked by two of the PSP’s otter mascots, he opened with a quote warning of a time “when the public will say, look, let’s try the other side”.
“Who said this?” he yelled to the crowd. “LKY!” Echoed the uproarious response.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” pronounced Mr Sani with mounting gravitas. “That day has come.”
And thus, the night was off to a roaring start, its unfaltering energy sustained in no small part thanks to the efforts of one Mr Rosli. Armed with a tambourine and zeal that would put a man half his age to shame, the 63-year-old handyman made a formidable one-person cheer squad.
“PSP – I see the way they talk, the way they debate in Parliament, much stronger than others. They can say enough is enough. WP, what did they do? Never bring up so many things,” he croaked, voice already hoarse, before turning back towards the stage to roar “no!” to a question about whether Singaporeans were okay.
The audience was split into three sections: those, like Mr Rosli, who were at the front, spectators in the bleachers, and the lucky few who snagged plastic chairs on the track.
Mr Dass, 71, a retiree, and his three childhood friends fell into that last category, watching the proceedings unfold from their front-row seats. He wanted to learn more about the PSP’s proposals.
The former electrical engineer, who used to work in the Singapore Turf Club with his friends, has a bone to pick with the PAP government for shutting down horse racing. “Really heart pain. We need somebody who can speak up against bad decisions in Parliament.”
Mr Dass (second from right), who is a retiree, with his childhood friends at the PSP’s rally on April 26.ST PHOTO: CHERIE LOK
It was curiosity that drew junior college students Isaac, 18, and Kaleb, 17, to the rally, too. Well, that and their teachers’ prompting.
“My GP teacher said going for rallies will help you get some points to say during the exam,” said Kaleb, who, like his friend, declined to disclose his last name. He also wanted to pick up public speaking tips to sharpen his presentation skills for project work.
Midway through the night, the audience was reminded of Dr Tan’s birthday. Good wishes were chanted and Chua Chu Kang GRC candidate S. Nallakaruppan asked the crowd what was the best present it could give the birthday boy.
“Vote PSP!” ricocheted all around.
The party’s impassioned plea to the crowd delved into the usual hot-button topics of the day: from the Government’s response to the cost-of-living crisis to the trust-damaging scandals of the past couple of years.
For their efforts in Parliament, Ms Hazel Poa and Mr Leong Mun Wai – Non-Constituency MPs for the past five years – were greeted with loud whoops of acclamation.
But it was the man of the hour who drew the most vociferous cheers. He drilled into matters of transparency and accountability. He lambasted the “inbreeding” in Parliament. He invoked history, both personal and national.
Even after the last words had been spoken – not by Dr Tan but by Mr Leong – the front mass of supporters had no intention to disperse. They clustered around the fence separating the stage from the field, waving and chanting to the PSP team.
It was only after they were reminded that the rally permit expired at 10pm that they reluctantly turned to go. But not before two 23-year-old students with handmade signs, voting for the first time this election, managed to snag autographs – and a shoutout – from the men they had come to see.
Students Eunice Yeow (far left) and Chihiro Soh with their handmade signs at the PSP’s rally at Bukit Gombak Stadium. They managed to snag autographs from PSP chairman Tan Cheng Bock and party chief Leong Mun Wai.ST PHOTOS: JASON QUAH
Sea of blue
From red to blue, the action shifted to Tampines.
Wax figurines, inflatable hammers, freshly snipped morsels of muah chee, families and couples whispering in camping chairs and a Kallang wave rising from a bobbing sea of blue on the bleachers – a carnival-like atmosphere enveloped the crowd, their excitement finally erupting into hoots and horns when the men and women in blue stepped into view.
It was the WP’s first rally in Tampines GRC, where three-term MP Faisal Manap has left the safer harbour of Aljunied
to anchor a team of new faces in a four-cornered face-off.
Mr Pang, 71, a retiree, who has attended practically every WP rally since the 1990s, surveyed the astro-turf field of Temasek Junior College and quipped: “It’s a special night – look at how many young people are stepping out.”
In the past, he always looked forward to former party chief Low Thia Khiang’s rousing Teochew speeches. But tonight, the torch had been passed. Instead, it was former diplomat Eileen Chong who held court, her Mandarin and Hokkien speech perhaps lacking the fiery gusto of an old warhorse but captivating the crowd nonetheless with earnest charm and doe-eyed conviction.
Rally veterans like Mr Pang might have been in the minority but they were also among the most outlandish.
Mr Deng Wei Hua, 60, who moved from Hougang SMC to Tampines GRC, brandished a custom figurine of Mr Low and wore a snug shirt with “Support Punggol GRC” scrawled with a marker pen. He showed the crowd how it was done back in the day, stridently bellowing the party’s name, rallying a crowd eager to follow his lead.
“Singapore is unbearable now. I used to be able to feed myself with $10 a day, now it’s hardly enough for a meal,” said the cleaner, adding that WP could be a voice for the people in Parliament.
Many at the rally were young faces such as 30-year-old Mrs Cheong – a working mother of two – who said the WP are “slaying at their social media game”.
She hoped the night would be a “core memory” for her four-year-old son, who had watched WP chief Pritam Singh’s Sengkang rally online with her and was curious to know why he was “so angry”.
“I would be really worried if my children had to buy a million-dollar flat,” said the Tampines GRC voter, citing cost of living as her biggest concern. She was also there to bust a “boomer rumour” – the persistent fear that voting for the opposition might somehow hurt her children’s chances in the primary school ballot.
Supporters at the WP’s rally at Temasek Junior College on April 26.ST PHOTO: MARK CHEONG
As the night wore on, the blows and barbs got heavier and sharper.
Supporters cheered Mr Faisal when he took to the podium, tearing up as he spoke of having to leave his Kaki Bukit ward. It felt like more than just a “step up” – the defiant rallying cry WP candidates have echoed throughout the campaign. Tonight, it appeared as though Mr Faisal had stepped into his own.
Newcomers like Mr Michael Thng jolted the crowd with an unexpected surge of energy; one attendee even dubbed him a “cute bad boy”. But not every speaker could hold the restless crowd: the soft-spoken Mr Nathaniel Koh struggled to engage the fidgety audience.
Then, as if answering Ms Cheong’s four-year-old son’s question of why Mr Singh was “so angry”, the Leader of the Opposition proved he could be funny too. Mr Singh capped off the night like a seasoned stand-up comedian, riffing on how the NTUC was a “guaranteed trampoline” for losing PAP candidates. His supporters roared with laughter.
He ended his speech with three cheers of “Majulah Singapura”.
The crowd roared in response, and just like that, the night drew to a close.
But the exits quickly clogged, and many were in no hurry to leave. Some sprawled out under the stars, chatting and laughing.
The young ones lingered even longer, stretched out across the track like stubborn foam clinging to the shore after the rush of a high tide.