Try this experiment: stand at the corner of Telok Ayer Street and Peck Seah Street, then turn slowly in a circle. You will see a 19th-century Hokkien temple built by sea voyagers giving thanks, a mosque used by early Muslim immigrants from southern India, and a Christian church, all within a two-minute walk. No fences. No tension. Just the everyday hum of a city going about its day.
In most places, such proximity might be a formula for friction. In Singapore, it is part of a deliberate architecture of survival.
This island nation of 6.1 million people is one of the world's most religiously diverse countries. Buddhists, Christians, Muslims, Taoists, Hindus, Sikhs, Zoroastrians, and Jains live alongside one another, as do Chinese, Malays, Indians, Eurasians, and other ethnic groups.
Thian Hock Keng Temple, one of Singapore's oldest Taoist temples, was first funded and built in 1821 by early Chinese immigrants from Fujian.
Yet the country has never experienced a religiously motivated terrorist attack, and its inter-communal violence has largely been confined to a painful past.
The secret is not accidental harmony but carefully engineered coexistence, built on a blend of tough laws, social engineering, and constant public education. To understand how Singapore makes "harmony in diversity" work, a South reporter walked through its historic neighborhoods and museums, from the bayfront landing grounds of early migrants to the high-tech galleries designed to keep the peace.
Where the boats came ashore
Singapore's multicultural present begins on its waterfront. In the early 19th century, Telok Ayer, Malay for "bay water," was exactly that: a bay.
The shoreline ran along what is now Telok Ayer Street, where successive waves of immigrants first set foot on the island. Thian Hock Keng, the Hokkien temple that still stands there today, was built at this shoreline as a sanctuary where new arrivals could give thanks for safe passage across the South China Sea.
But the Chinese were far from alone. Under the Raffles Town Plan of 1822, the British colonial administration designated ethnic enclaves across the new port. Kampong Glam, named for the Gelam (cajeput) trees that once grew abundantly there, was set aside for the Malay community as well as Muslim traders from the Malay Peninsula, Java, Sumatra, India, and even southern Arabia.
A vibrant mural honors Little India's tailoring heritage.
Further east, Little India grew around the cattle trade, where Indian laborers gathered near European-run racecourses.
What emerged was not a melting pot but what scholars have called a "salad bowl," with distinct ingredients arranged on the same plate, each retaining its flavor, texture, and identity.
The colonial arrangement created separate neighborhoods, but the physical reality of a cramped island meant communities could never truly live apart.
On a single street in Telok Ayer, a Chinese immigrant praying to Mazu for a prosperous new life would walk past a Muslim trader heading to his mosque. For generations, this proximity was simply a fact of life, neither celebrated nor particularly contested.
When the ground trembled
But proximity is not the same as harmony. Few countries have a history as closely intertwined with racial and religious violence as Singapore.
Over a 19-year span, the island witnessed four serious communal clashes, including the 1950 Maria Hertogh riots and two rounds of deadly racial riots in 1964.
Colorful Peranakan shophouses line a street in Kampong Glam.
The Maria Hertogh riots remain seared into the national memory. The episode centered on a 13-year-old girl who had been raised as a Muslim by a Malay adoptive mother for eight years after being separated from her Dutch Catholic biological parents during World War II. When a colonial court awarded custody to her biological parents, the Muslim community erupted in anger. Over three days in December 1950, mobs wielding parangs attacked Europeans and Eurasians on sight. By the time the violence subsided, 18 people were dead, 173 were injured, and 19 vehicles had been destroyed.
The 1964 racial riots, which broke out during Prophet Muhammad's birthday procession and spread across the island, proved even more devastating. The violence killed dozens and wounded hundreds. Crucially, it also precipitated Singapore's seperation from the Federation of Malaysia in 1965. The nation was born not from triumph but from trauma.
"The very birth of the Republic in 1965 was precipitated by two series of deadly racial riots," one observer noted. The memory of those events has never faded. For generations, Singaporeans have grown up with constant reminders of how easily diversity can turn into destruction.
The scaffolding of peace
What sets Singapore apart is not the absence of ethnic tension, but its systematic and often muscular response. The country has built an intricate architecture of laws, policies, and institutional mechanisms designed to keep the peace, even when that means sacrificing some libertarian ideals.
The iconic Sultan Mosque stands in Kampong Glam, Singapore.
The most significant legal instrument is the Maintenance of Religious Harmony Act (MRHA), enacted in 1990. The law rests on two core principles: followers of different religions must exercise moderation and tolerance toward one another, and religion and politics must be kept separate. Updated in 2019 to address foreign influence, the MRHA gives the government preemptive powers to issue restraining orders against religious groups that threaten harmony.
On the housing front, the Ethnic Integration Policy (EIP) sets racial on flat ownership within each block and neighbourhood based on the ethnic make-up of Singapore—where close to 80 percent of Singaporeans live. The policy ensures that there is a balanced mix of the various ethnic communities in HDB towns.
Even the political system reflects this calculus. The Group Representation Constituency (GRC) system requires each multi-member constituency to field at least one candidate from a minority racial group, ensuring that Parliament itself mirrors the nation's diversity.
A pledge at the exit
But laws alone cannot manufacture trust. In recent years, Singapore has increasingly turned to education and cultural institutions as the softer arm of its integration strategy.
The Harmony in Diversity Gallery (HDG), developed by the Ministry of Home Affairs in collaboration with community partners, offers an immersive experience designed to remind visitors that religious harmony is "always a work in progress." The gallery features interactive exhibits on interfaith commonalities, a multimedia reconstruction of the Maria Hertogh riots, and a final room where visitors are invited to make a personal pledge to preserve harmony.
Schools teach Character and Citizenship Education, with students learning about ethnic and religious sensitivities in Singapore's past and present context. The annual Racial Harmony Day, held on July 21 to mark the anniversary of the 1964 riots, has become a nationwide ritual of remembrance and reconciliation.
Malay traditional attire is on display at the Malay Heritage Centre.
Walk through Kampong Glam today, and you will find a historic Malay-Arab district that now buzzes with trendy cafes and textile shops. Conserved since 1989, it is not a museum piece but a living neighborhood where heritage and modernity coexist. Little India's vibrant Campbell Lane, home to the Indian Heritage Centre, draws tourists and locals alike to its spices, saris, and temples.
Yet for all its successes, Singapore's leaders remain cautious. "This is not by chance," former Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong repeatedly stressed. "The government and the different communities worked hard together to make this happen." Race-blindness may be an aspiration, but officials acknowledge that it remains a distant goal. For many, race remains an important marker in shaping a person's sense of identity.
Perhaps the most honest assessment comes from the Harmony in Diversity Gallery itself, where a question hangs prominently: "Will we let our differences divide us, or will our commonalities unite us?"
In Singapore, the answer has never been assumed. It is something that must be chosen and defended every single day.
Reporter: Guo Zedong
Photo: Guo Zedong
