It has never been harder to ask people to believe in international law. Its core pillars — sovereign equality, the prohibition of aggression, and collective security — are relatively young post-war concepts. Yet despite the refrain of “never again”, they are now routinely tested and, in some cases, completely ignored.

For small states like Singapore, this erosion is existential. Singapore’s consistent defence of rules-based international order is often mistaken for idealism or reflexive alignment with global consensus. Truth is: a world where size, force, and economic might dictate outcomes is incompatible with our happiness, progress, and prosperity.

Survival Instincts

This is where Singapore’s approach departs from caricature. Our foreign policy is not a knee-jerk reaction to world events, nor blind faith in international law. It is grounded in clear-eyed pragmatism.

Call it survival 101. All nations are prisoners of geography, and Singapore — a city-state of some six million people separated from its nearest neighbour Malaysia by a strait as narrow as 600 metres and barely five kilometres wide even at its farthest point — cannot afford selective adherence to principle. Every time a border is redrawn by force, it sets a precedent that may one day be applied closer to home. This is why Singapore has taken consistent positions on Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, and why it has consistently supported the principle that territorial integrity must not be violated by force, whether the aggressor is a geopolitical rival or a nominal partner. A norm that applies only to one’s adversaries is not a norm at all; it is a weapon.

When the System No Longer Binds

The system Singapore seeks to uphold is under extraordinary strain. The post-war legal architecture — treaties, customs, and multilateral institutions — rests on the assumption that states will abide by shared constraints. Deadlock at the United Nations Security Council, selective compliance with International Court of Justice rulings, and the realities of great-power competition all point to a system that no longer binds states as it once did.

The charge of hypocrisy further complicates matters. The invasion of Iraq in 2003 proceeded without Security Council authorisation. Drone strikes in sovereign territories have been justified under elastic interpretations of self-defence. Many individuals indicted by the International Criminal Court have been from the Global South — which is not to say those indictments are wrong, but it certainly begs the question: why not others? For those of us who argue that the international legal order remains worth defending, this skepticism cannot simply be dismissed. It must be met with honesty about the order’s failings and a commitment to its more consistent application.

Preparation as National Strategy

Singapore’s response to this tension reflects what our nation does best: preparation. If the rules-based order is weakening, great powers are less willing to be constrained, and multilateral institutions are gridlocked, what should we actually do? As a small nation-state with a strong, centralised government, Singapore can draw on experience, plan ahead, and strengthen its resilience for the next crisis. We have done so many times before.

The country’s experience with SARS in 2003 drove structural reforms in public health, including the establishment of the National Centre for Infectious Diseases. When COVID-19 emerged, Singapore was not immune, but it was better equipped. We understood that pandemics do not merely place pressure on healthcare systems; they also test global supply chains, food resilience, and a wide range of interconnected social issues.

Perhaps only in the wake of the pandemic did Singaporeans fully grasp how much quiet preparedness takes place behind the scenes: stockpiling essential food supplies, diversifying import sources, investing in promising agri-food technologies to boost domestic production, and, crucially, ensuring sufficient hospital bed capacity.

When the US-Iran war ignited, many Singaporeans were surprised to realise that we possess strategic reserves capable of lasting for months.

Coalitions for a Fractured World

This approach extends to foreign policy. As the global order fragments, Singapore has moved to deepen partnerships with like-minded states. The Singapore–New Zealand Enhanced Partnership is one example of this thinking in practice: two small, open, trade-dependent states choosing to deepen cooperation not out of sentiment but out of strategic logic.

The dream of middle-power multilateralism advocated by Canadian Prime Minster Mark Carney is not without its problems – but it recognises a deep truth; the old order is falling away. Things fall apart, the centre cannot hold. New relationships with allies who see the world in the same way hold promise.

Prime Minister Lawrence Wong’s recent acknowledgement of a “less benign and less hospitable” external environment signals not a shift in direction, but a more explicit articulation of long-standing assumptions. Singapore has never operated on the belief that the global order is stable; it has operated on the need to navigate its instability.

None of this diminishes the importance of international law. On the contrary, it reinforces it. Customary international law, shaped by state practice and belief, evolves over time — but it can regress as easily as it progresses. If its core principles are to endure, they must be actively upheld, not passively assumed.

For Singapore, this means pairing pragmatism with principle: supporting legal norms, engaging institutions, building coalitions, and making difficult strategic choices where necessary. It is a less comforting posture than post-war optimism allowed. But it is a more honest one.