SINGAPORE: A recent press meet the Singapore Democratic Alliance (SDA) held in the newly carved out Punggol GRC has sparked a wave of ridicule for party chief Desmond Lim’s unconventional English and manner of public speaking.
“Who is this guy?” one comment read, while another commenter asked, “How can he represent us if he is elected is his English is no good?”
Some particularly vicious netizens say Mr Lim should have been written off long ago. Social media memes have not been kind, and mainstream narratives have painted him as a perennial also-ran in Singapore’s political landscape.
But dig a little deeper, and you’ll find that Mr Lim is not just a political survivor — he’s a savvy strategist and a force to reckon with in opposition politics.
The clearest sign of this is the 2020 General Election, where the SDA turned what many assumed would be a three-cornered fight into a strategic win of sorts. While the ruling People’s Action Party (PAP) retained Pasir Ris–Punggol GRC, it was the SDA — not the Peoples Voice — that emerged as the credible opposition presence.
SDA had faced considerable pressure, even from opposition supporters, to give way to the Peoples Voice when the party expressed interest in the ward. SDA refused to be cowed and reiterated that it has consistently walked the ground for years and is in tune with residents’ needs.
Some political observers feared the SDA would lose face by entering a three-cornered fight, but it was the Peoples Voice that fared poorly instead, losing a hefty $67,500 election deposit after failing to secure the required vote share.
So what did Mr Lim and his team do right?
For one, they understood the constituency. Pasir Ris–Punggol is massive — with diverse demographics and a blend of heartlanders, young families, and older residents. While other parties defaulted to traditional campaign methods — plastering candidate faces and party logos — the SDA pivoted in an unexpected direction by replacing the typical “smiling candidate” poster template with creative, issue-based visuals that brought national concerns to the fore.
These posters covered bread-and-butter topics like the cost of living, employment woes, foreign worker policies, and housing affordability, all in bold, accessible language. The SDA’s campaign materials weren’t flashy. They were simple, blunt, and relatable — and that was precisely the point.
By prioritising content over charisma, the SDA aligned itself with the frustrations and fears of the everyday voter and its low-budget, high-impact approach stood out.
More crucially, Mr Lim never shied away from contesting. For two decades, he has consistently shown up — whether he stands a chance or doesn’t seem to, in good times and bad. That kind of tenacity builds political capital, even if it doesn’t translate immediately into votes. Voters remember the candidates who don’t disappear after defeat and Mr Lim’s dogged persistence and grassroots focus have earned him credibility with the ground.
Whether you agree with him or not, there’s value in having political actors who are willing to say what others won’t, whether their English is flashy or not. His brand of politics may not appeal to the urban elite or the social media savvy crowd, but it resonates with those who feel unheard in the national conversation.
In a political landscape where personalities often matter more than policy, Mr Lim is an underrated underdog and stands as a reminder that substance still counts. His English may be unpolished, and his media presence may lack finesse, but perhaps that’s precisely what makes him refreshing. Authenticity can’t be faked and it’s what matters most to voters.
So mock him all you want, but write him off at your own peril. Desmond Lim isn’t just surviving — he’s strategising. And come the next election, don’t be surprised if he punches above his weight again.