There was no press conference that he called. He merely composed a letter, straightforward yet purposefully firm. After twenty years of public silence, Dr. Tan Bin Seng, the once-quiet head of Singapore’s Workers’ Party, made a surprise but obviously necessary return to the public eye.
His open letter to the party’s top officials has been circulated more urgently in recent days. It wasn’t because it was dramatic. But because it did a remarkable job of bringing to light what many WP insiders had been secretly wondering. Tan questioned why it had taken the party’s disciplinary committee more than a month to reach a decision. Since the special cadre members’ conference had already been properly requested, why postpone it?
Tan rekindled a sense of institutional urgency with this well-timed intervention. He wasn’t pretending to be relevant or acting like a restless old man. Rather, his criticism seemed to stem from a wish to keep the party constitutionally honest and structurally solid, especially during a time when openness was crucial.
| Category | Details |
|---|---|
| Full Name | Dr Tan Bin Seng |
| Occupation | Former Chairman of the Workers’ Party (1992–2003), Medical Doctor |
| Political Affiliation | Workers’ Party of Singapore (WP) |
| Notable Roles | Candidate in 1997 General Election (Cheng San GRC), advocate for party reforms |
| Recent Action | Publicly called for expedited special cadre members’ conference (SCMC) |
| Controversies | Previously struck off as a practicing doctor for professional misconduct |
| External Source | CNA Report on Letter to WP Leadership |

Tan brought attention to a minor but significant procedural error by segregating the cadre conference from the internal disciplinary review. He proposed that tying the two together would inadvertently jeopardize member involvement and postpone significant interaction. I found that argument to be especially helpful for a party dealing with scrutiny after losing its leader.
I recall observing Tan’s framing of his issues. He introduced structural doubt in addition to rhetorical inquiries. Did the committee’s delay serve to consolidate support or to ensure fairness? Despite being politely worded, the aim of that question was very evident.
Tan served as chairman during a period when the WP was possibly more stable in its philosophy but far more politically vulnerable. The stakes are bigger, the processes are more complicated, and the chances of public misunderstanding are even higher now that the party has a sizable legislative presence. Although remarkable, that evolution has brought about vulnerabilities.
Tan’s recent remarks brought to mind a timeless principle of politics: the speed with which you act when choices stall, rather than the volume of your defense, determines your credibility. He underlined in his letter that delays can look dangerously similar to avoidance, especially when they are presented as “due process.”
Tan’s drive might seem sudden to existing WP cadres, particularly those who are less familiar with the inner workings of the party. However, it resembled the party’s earlier principles, which were centered more on the need for internal clarity and less on appearances, according to longtime observers.
In private, I reflected on how few politicians come back to seek procedure rather than power. Because of this, his intervention’s methodology was especially novel. Reaffirming constitutional accountability was the goal, not taking back control.
Tan effectively supported the members’ freedom to meet, talk, and think by calling for an early SCMC, regardless of the disciplinary committee’s final decision involving Pritam Singh. He believed that in addition to being reasonable, this split would restore party stability far more quickly.
The timing is the irony, of course. Singh’s legal issues have the WP preparing for public scrutiny, but its internal processes seem sluggish and unclear. Tan’s haste therefore turned into a remedial action—a warning that institutional responsiveness needs to be in line with public expectations.
I’m still thinking about his comment regarding whether the party was “gathering loyalty” instead of facts. It didn’t sound like conjecture in that line. It seemed like a warning, a tactfully worded but potent check on political stagnation.
As the disciplinary panel wraps up its work in the upcoming weeks, focus will unavoidably shift back to the WP’s internal demands. However, it’s difficult to overlook the symbolic significance of a former chairman openly criticizing delays in the process. It was an act of civic conscience, carried out with conviction rather than style.
Many parties around the world had internal slowdowns during the pandemic, when political focus was frequently obscured by logistical disarray. Tan’s appeal, however, is a remarkably comparable warning that fundamental values should never be sacrificed for expediency.
The WP and other medium-sized parties face increasing complexity as their influence grows. Furthermore, if that complexity is not managed, it may make it difficult to distinguish between consolidation and accountability. Tan appears to be acutely aware of this change, having served as a leader during poorer times.
Politically speaking, his position is remarkably affordable because it doesn’t demand for any intellectual rewriting. All that is needed is procedural will. Not a big campaign. No polarizing gestures. Only a meeting. Just a date.
That is the reason it is so convincing.
The call has served its purpose even if the party decides not to follow his timeline. It reaffirmed that even the most subdued voices may influence a discourse if they are used purposefully. Sometimes the loudest reform comes from the process rather than the protest.
And in this instance, it was from a retired physician with a long memory and a sharp pen.
