Squash in Singapore – The Early Years

An article by guest writer Munir Shah. Refer to “About the Writer” at the end of the post.

Birth of squash

Tracing the origins of any sport is not easy and squash is no exception. There is mounting evidence that the game developed from “rackets”, which appears to have been first played in the walled yards of London taverns and prisons in the early 19th century.

Inexplicably, in the 1820s “rackets” travelled north-west to the infinitely sedate surroundings of Harrow school. Sometime in the next decade, almost certainly by accident, a softer ball than that used normally in rackets found its way on to the courts of Harrow. Thus two slightly different versions of the same theme known as “harder” and “squash” – depending on the ball used – began to develop. In 1850 two roofless rackets courts were built at the school and when a covered court and four squash courts appeared on the site of the earlier roofless versions in 1864, the two games took on entirely separate identities.

Introduction of squash in Singapore

Likewise, the early beginnings of squash on the island are rather hazy but the research I’ve done, in talking to some of the early pioneers of the game, seems to point towards the British colonial masters then. Squash courts sprouted in selected camps of the British military, namely the Gillman Barracks of the Army and the Royal Air Force base in Changi. It is hard to pin point the oldest squash court in Singapore because they have been either demolished or incorporated into alternative facilities. Rumour has it that there was a squash court in the old Cathay Building before the Second World War but the jury is still out on the authenticity of this tale.

The British heritage extended to the Singapore Armed Forces and the Singapore Police Force in the transition towards self-government in the late 1950s and early 1960s and many of the early local exponents of the game emerged from these uniformed groups.

Under the late Dr. Goh Keng Swee, who was Defence Minister in the late 1960s, squash was promoted together with canoeing and later rugby, in the Ministry of Interior and Defence (MID) as a platform to build a “rugged society”. Dr. Goh believed strongly in squash as a physically demanding game and ideal for the mental discipline and development of the military personnel. Pioneer trainee air force pilots followed suit by taking up the game in droves. The first Director General Staff – MID, Mr. Tan Teck Khim  played a pivotal role in promoting squash in the Singapore Armed Forces after independence in 1965. He later became the Commissioner of Police and was instrumental in the development of squash in the Singapore Police Force too.

Tanglin Club and Singapore Cricket Club were the earliest private clubs to introduce squash, largely because of the influence of the British members at these clubs. Amongst the local sporting clubs, MYMCA in Palmer Road was probably the first to build squash courts. The earliest public courts were built by the National Sports Promotion Board (NSPB), forerunner of Singapore Sports Council, in a few places such as Alexandra Park (Winchester Road), Changi Air Base (Gosport Road), Seletar Air Base (next to Officer’s Mess), Farrer Park (Rutland Road – next to where the NSPB Building once stood), and the soon to be demolished National Stadium (Kallang).

These archaic courts had low ceilings with poor ventilation and dim lighting too. It was a major challenge to play good squash with small head wooden rackets in such humid conditions in those days. However, the interest to play squash was so high amongst the members of the public that one had to physically queue a week in advance at the booking offices just to make sure that you were able to play during your desired time slot. Phone bookings were unthinkable.

In order to augment this thirst for squash courts, a couple of enterprising sports centres with squash courts emerged at Fort Canning in the late 1970s and then later East Coast Recreation Centre and West Coast Recreation Centre. Joining this craze was the first private squash court for the exclusive use of family and friends, owned by Norman Wee, then Vice President of SSRA, at his former residence in Balmoral Crescent. It had a back wall which was made of plastic (not the usual glass) and the only one ever seen in Singapore!

The rush to book squash courts eased tremendously with the proliferation of squash courts all over the island from the 1970s into the 1990s. Almost every new condominium incorporated a squash court in their facilities and playing the game at any time of the day or night did not pose a problem anymore. Singapore Armed Forces Sports Association (SAFSA), Singapore Armed Forces Reservists Association (SAFRA), Police Sports Association and many social clubs contributed to the rapid increase of squash courts in the country as it was considered an “in” thing.

Early office bearers of Singapore Squash

Small wonder that the first office bearers of the Singapore Squash Rackets Association were drawn from the Army, Police, returning overseas students  and the expatriate community. Some of the early pioneers whose names come to my mind are Syed Ibrahim, George Abraham, Alex Josey, Dr. David Yeo, Tan Eng Han and Dr. Teoh Hoon Cheow. SSRA was formed in 1970 and its first President was Lieutenant Colonel Jaswant Singh Gill, followed by expatriate teacher Eric Cooper and Police Officer Frank Samuel. The reins changed hands to an expatriate CEO of Sime Darby, Richard Evans, who ran the association for a good number of years before handing it over to a Singaporean, Dr. Eddy Jacob, who left an indelible mark by marshalling a cohesive team to oversee the heydays of squash uninterrupted in the 1980s and 1990s. There are far too many people to be named in Dr. Eddy Jacob’s team but suffice to say that they were tireless in their voluntary work to promote the game and flourished with creativity under his leadership.

During Dr. Eddy Jacob’s tenure, the Asian Squash Federation (ASF) Secretariat transferred from Pakistan to Singapore upon his election as President ASF in 1985. He served 3 terms in ASF as President until 1997, with a team of officers comprising Harry Nair (Executive Director), Munir Shah (Secretary) and Benny See (Treasurer).

History of local squash tournaments

Our first national squash championship was held at the Police Training School (former Police Academy), Mount Pleasant, in 1973 and the winner was policeman, Hussein Ibrahim, who went on to win the national title a total of 4 times. Hussein trained regularly at the Police Reserve Unit courts in Mount Vernon and Queenstown.

The Singapore Police Force continued to produce 2 more national champions. V. Gopal won in 1978 and national serviceman, Zainal Abidin, who switched from football to squash a year earlier, made an unprecedented impact by winning the national title in 1979. Zainal is arguably the best player the country has ever produced and went on to collect a total of 11 national titles! To date, this record by the squash cavalier remains nowhere near to be emulated by any exponent of the game.

The first woman national champion was the late Ong Siong Ngoh in 1973. Milo, the health beverage, was associated as a major sponsor of the national championships for many years.

The inaugural men’s champion of the Ascot Singapore Closed Championships in 1975 was Dr. Malcolm Simons, with Annette Andrews winning the woman’s title.

The Singapore Open was sponsored by Asia Pacific Breweries under the brand name Anchor Beer and it was the longest running event, lasting just over 25 years, sponsored without a break by a single donor on the local squash scene. The first edition of the Singapore Open in 1970 was won by Dr. Malcolm Simons. Muriel Hocking captured the  women’s title when it was introduced in 1972. Past men winners of the Singapore Open were the top ranking world squash players of the day – Qamar Zaman (Pakistan), Maqsood Ahmed (Pakistan), Gogi Alaudin (Pakistan), Ali Aziz (Egypt) and Phil Kenyon (England), just to name a few.

Singapore also played host to the PIA World Series featuring the top 20 squash players of the world in the late 1970s. The likes of the 8-time British Open champion Geoff Hunt (Australia), Mohibullah Khan (Pakistan), Qamar Zaman (Pakistan), Ahmed Safwat (Egypt) and 6-time British Open champion Jonah Barrington (Ireland) made their regular annual appearances in this popular event.

Singapore’s prowess in the international arena

Singapore was equally fortunate to have the likes of Zainal Abidin, Peter Hill, Stewart Ballard and Jeremy Yeo, who blossomed into the squash arena around the same time, such that we were able to dominate in the East Asian and Asian scenes and even the world stage.

Singapore also took part in an annual series with Malaysia, under the banner of Dunlop, wherein the 2 countries took turns to host the event every other year, beginning in 1974.

What started as an Inter-port annual match between Singapore and Hong Kong in 1974 blossomed into the East Asian Championships in 1976. The Kallang Squash Centre was built in time, under the auspices of Singapore Sports Council which was then chaired by Dr. Tan Eng Liang, for the country to host this prestigious tournament in 1978. Singapore ended Hong Kong’s domination in that year and went on to win the Men’s team championships during the next decade and Zainal Abidin established an unassailable record of winning the individual title 9 times in all! The now defunct East Asian Championships went into oblivion in the early 1990s as squash began to be introduced in the South East Asian Games, Asian Games and eventually the Commonwealth Games.

Singapore completed its domination in the region by winning all 4 gold medals at stake in the inaugural squash event in the 1991 South East Asian Games in Manila, namely the Men and Women Individual and Team titles. We went on to repeat the clean sweep in 1993, when we hosted the SEA Games in Singapore.

Singapore was a squash power house in Asia, second only to Pakistan in the Asian Championships, which commenced in 1981. The highest international ranking Singapore ever achieved was 6th in the world during the 1985 World Men’s Team Championships in Cairo, Egypt.

Rise and fall of squash, possible resurgence…

Squash was a categorized as a merit sport by the Singapore Sports Council and received sufficient funding as a consequence, besides the regular private sponsorship of various events in the squash calendar. Singapore achieved the ultimate endorsement of its organizational ability by the world body when it was given the rights to host the World Men’s Team Championship in 1989. This was the culmination after having hosted several regional and Asian championships and even a World Junior Men’s Championships in 1982.

It’s sad to note that today we are nowhere near such high achievements in the regional and world squash scenes. We have great difficulty in raising a team to participate in the World Team Championships these days and will have to fight tooth and nail to get the nod from Singapore National Olympic Council to contest in the 2010 Guangzhou Asian Games. Where have we deviated and where have all the talent gone to? I shall not delve into this because it requires a lengthy discussion in identifying the root causes.

In an article on 21st March 2010 in the Straits Times, it was reported that bookings for courts have risen steadily in the last few years, according to figures released by the Singapore Sports Council. From 2008 to 2009, bookings increased from 23,559 to 27,187. But statistics can be misleading. What is clearly evident is that after the euphoric rise in squash courts in the 80s and 90s, many were under utilised and quite a number of squash courts in community centres and recreational clubs were converted to alternative uses, such as gymnasiums, children play areas, church activities, table tennis and even karaoke lounges!

So, with the number of squash courts having declined substantially, it is does not give a true picture if we went by court bookings alone in concluding that there is growth in the game. In essence, the game has declined over the last couple of decades but I hope I am wrong in being pessimistic – perhaps it is now slowly showing some signs of resurgence.

There is more to reviving the game than just getting greater publicity, as was evident in last July’s CIMB Singapore Women’s Masters, in which there was “live” TV coverage of the semi-finals and final for the very first time in local squash history.

I yearn for more tournaments to get back on the local squash circuit. Reviving a once thriving Business Houses Squash League is just a case in point. Reincarnating the Singapore Open is yet another major challenge.

Today, Anchor Beer, Ascot, Milo, Ovaltine, Dunlop, Pepsi, PIA  and Perrier have all faded from the sponsorship scene and almost all the squash courts mentioned in this article have disappeared from the face of this country. But these household names linger on in the minds of those who reminisce the good old days. I long for the day when the old sponsors will return with a vengeance to revive the game locally.

Being sentimental, I am reminded of a famous song in the 1960s, sung by Mary Hopkin, with the following lines:

“Then the busy years went rushing by us
We lost our starry notions on the way
If by chance I’d see you in the tavern
We’d smile at one another and we’d say

Those were the days my friend
We thought they’d never end
We’d sing and dance forever and a day
We’d live the life we choose
We’d fight and never lose
For we were young and sure to have our way”

I hope we will find our way in getting squash back to where it should belong. No prizes for guessing where this would be.

Photos

About the Writer Munir Shah

  • Asian Squash Federation Referees Director (1986 to date)
  • World Squash Federation International Referee/Assessor (1990 to date)
  • Vice President Singapore Squash Rackets Association (1988 -1997)

Simple is Hard to Do: Some Thoughts on Shanghai Expo 2010

An article by guest writer Low Sze Wee. Refer to “About the Writer” at the end of the post.

In June, despite media reports of huge crowds and long queues, I decided to spend two days with a friend to visit the much-anticipated and talked-about Shanghai Expo. Much of the hype turned out to be true. The mass media reported daily on the latest Expo attractions. Virtually all the major shopping malls and hotels in town had Expo information booths, manned by eager volunteers handing out tips and maps. There were plenty of vendors (both legal and illegal) selling all sorts of Expo-related merchandise including the ubiquitous blue Expo mascot Haibao (literally translated as Sea Treasure). And it was obvious that the Expo had been overwhelmingly embraced by the local Chinese. An hour before the Expo opened at nine in the morning, queues had already formed at the main train station leading to the site. Many local families were determined to spend the entire day at the Expo, in order to make the best use of their single-entry day tickets. Queues, sometimes stretching for as long as four hours, were therefore, common for the more popular pavilions such as China, Japan, Italy and Germany.  And visitors were prepared for long waits, with many bringing along umbrellas and even small portable folding stools with them on their outing!

On our first day at the Expo, we made sure that we were amongst the first to arrive in the morning and headed straight for the much-publicised Italy pavilion. This meant that our queue was a relatively painless 15 minutes. However, for the rest of the day, we gave the popular pavilions a miss as we were not keen to stand in the sun for few hours just to get into them. Hence, we took our time to have a leisurely stroll around the extensive grounds to admire the unusual pavilion architecture, check out the various free performances in the public areas, and occasionally drop into the smaller pavilions (such as those from South America, Eastern Europe and Southeast Asia) that were not so popular and hence, less crowded.

For our second day, we changed our tactic and instead, visited the Expo in the evening. This turned out to be a wise choice. The weather was cooler and many of the pavilions looked even more stunning with special lighting effects at night. More importantly,  the crowds were noticeably thinner and we were able to visit some popular pavilions such as those from United Kingdom (UK), Australia and Morocco without queueing! However, we were still not able to visit the China pavilion. To visit the latter, a reservation pass (separate from the Expo admission ticket) was needed and all passes had been given out for that day. The friendly volunteer advised us to either turn up early the next morning to queue for a pass or join a local organised group tour with access to group passes. Unfortunately, as we had already made plans for the next day, we had to sadly give the China pavilion a miss. However, we consoled ourselves with the knowledge  that we could still visit the pavilion in the future as there were plans to preserve it after the Expo ended.

Sze Wee outside the China pavilion

China pavilion at night

Upon our return to Singapore, friends and family asked for our favourite pavilions. For me, some pavilions were truly outstanding for the simple reason that they achieved what they had set out to do. The Expo is a high-profile  platform for countries to project themselves internationally. This year, the Expo is especially prominent because its primary audience (that is, the Chinese themselves) is increasingly regarded as a market that the rest of the world cannot ignore. In the years to come, the Chinese will form one of the world’s largest consumers of goods and services. The Expo, being held in China this year, represents an unparalleled opportunity for the various national pavilions to create positive impressions and greater awareness of what each country has to offer, be it in terms of national identity, tourist attractions or business opportunities.

So, from amongst the various pavilions  we managed to visit, which ones stood out the most?

Firstly, first impressions still count. With so many countries jostling for attention, it was difficult to stand out from the crowd, more so since many pavilions had to have similar features such a spacious entrance lobby, a sizeable audio-visual theatre and large ramps to bring visitors through the various levels in each building. In that respect, the Australia, UK and Spain pavilions stood out visually, both day and night, through the use of unusual claddings for their building facades.

The Spain pavilion used a humble and simple material – willow – as its inspiration as well as cladding. The building was conceived as a series of baskets, some open at the top and some enclosed, to create courtyards, circulation and multi-purpose spaces. The entire steel structure was covered with more than 8000 flexible panels of hand-woven wicker. Made by craftsmen from Shandong province, the panels came in shades of brown, beige and black, depending on how the willow was treated (whether stripped of its bark or not). This cladding gave the pavilion an organic look, with its undulating surfaces reminiscent of gigantic golden waves suspended in motion. To me, this pavilion represented a successful combination of the modern and the traditional, cleverly making use of a familiar material and technique found in both Spain and China, to connect the two countries.

Spain pavilion

Spain pavilion (photograph from Shanghai Expo official website)

Likewise, the Australia pavilion used a common material to distinguish itself. In this case, the undulating building was completely encased in steel produced and donated by an Australian steel manufacturer. The steel structure, which had been allowed to weather into a rich rust colour with rugged textures, recalled the famous natural icon – Uluru, also known as Ayers Rock – a monolithic rock formation in the Australian outback. In the day, its vivid façade was striking against the clear blue sky, whilst at night, the structure had the appearance of a glowing modernist sculpture.

Australia pavilion in the day (photograph from Shanghai Expo official website)

Australia pavilion at night

For me, the most unique cladding was found on the curvaceous UK pavilion, which was entirely covered with some 60,000 transparent acrylic rods, vibrating gently in the breeze. Upon entering the pavilion, visitors were confronted by a surreal luminous womb-like chamber comprising thousands of seeds encased at the ends of each rod, which were in turn, lit by fibre optic filaments. At night, this had the added advantage of illuminating the pavilion from within, allowing the whole structure to glow. The award-winning design had been variously described as a hedgehog, giant hairbrush, durian (by some Singaporeans) and a dandelion (by the Chinese)! Although not the largest pavilion in the Expo and despite its lack of cutting-edge technological gadgets, the unusual cladding captured public imagination, and judging by the long queues, it was undoubtedly one of the most popular pavilions.

Queues at the UK pavilion

UK pavilion at night

Secondly, it struck me that simple ideas worked best. To achieve multiple aims like adhering to the Expo’s theme of “Better City, Better Life”, and showing the best that a country had to offer, in ways that are meaningful, of interest to an international audience, and at the same time, of relevance to China, may result in pavilions that try to tick every box and end up pleasing no one.

For the UK pavilion, its brief was to “change perceptions of Britain amongst the coming generation of Chinese; away from their old image of us, as a land of swirling fog and cobblestones, old buildings and old attitudes” and for them to “understand contemporary Britain, the home of creative Industries and artistic talent.” In that respect, the concept of the pavilion as a ‘Seed Cathedral’ was breathtaking in its simplicity, and astounding in its radical unconventionality. It drew on the UK tradition and love of parks and gardens, and sought to highlight the importance of maintaining a direct connection with nature. Instead of relying on the familiar (London Beefeaters and William Shakespeare comes to mind!), it capitalised on the key strength of a unique national asset like the Kew Gardens and its valuable role in preserving the world’s natural biodiversity through its Millennium Seed Bank programme. The latter seeks to collect seeds of 25% of the world’s wild plant species by 2020. The idea of a seed bank is both simple and symbolic. Seeds represent change and growth, as well as the potential for future innovation and discovery in diverse fields. At the same time, the pavilion’s cutting-edge design was seen as a means of changing Chinese perceptions of the UK as a country with a strong sense of heritage but not usually known for its creativity or technological innovations. More importantly, a partnership between UK and China was forged because the seeds in the pavilion were sourced in China from the Kew Garden’s Chinese partner, the Kunming Institute of Botany. And to keep alive the memory of the UK ‘dandelion’ after the Expo ends, the acrylic seed rods would be distributed to schools across China as a unique keepsake.

Interior of the UK pavilion at night

Close-up view of the rods containing the seeds

The Denmark pavilion took a different, but equally successful approach. The organisers literally transported what was possibly their most famous, if not most-loved tourist icon from Copenhagen to Shanghai. Although Denmark has yet to become a key tourist destination for the Chinese, the stories by Danish writer Hans Christian Andersen are well-known to Chinese readers. Likewise, through past media reports and tourist campaigns,  many Chinese would be familiar with the statue of a little mermaid, based on Andersen’s much-read children’s fable of the same name, perched on a rock by the sea in Copenhagen.

The Denmark pavilion was designed as a series of pristine white curved ramps, forming a sculptural embrace around the Little Mermaid, so that visitors could catch glimpses of her from most locations within the structure. The pavilion sought to present Denmark as a family-friendly, natural, beautiful and active country, and convey what Danes love to do in the city of Copenhagen. So, visitors could have a picnic on the roof, explore the playground, or take an indoor or outdoor bicycle trip within the pavilion. Although I did not get a chance to enter the pavilion, the wonderful thing was that there were enough perforations in the pavilion for me to see what was happening inside and even the back of the mermaid statue without having to go in. Here, I was struck by the ingenuity of the design. By giving tantalising peeks into the pavilion, it probably did more to whet the appetites of those standing outside, and entice them to queue to have a better look at the Little Mermaid, than any amount of on-site banners or posters of the statue could have done! This ‘see-through’ approach was also adopted by the Italy pavilion. Although primarily constructed of concrete, the building had a large entrance lobby, entirely covered in glass. This ensured that the centrepiece of the lobby – a replica of a grand architectural façade – remained visible to all visitors passing by the pavilion, both night and day.

Italy pavilion with its glass entrance (photograph from Shanghai Expo official website)

The architectural façade replica in the lobby of the Italy pavilion

The decision to use the statue as the main focus in the Denmark pavilion was a publicity triumph. The statue’s journey from Copenhagen to its eventual installation in its own pool of Danish seawater in the centre of the pavilion in Shanghai, was covered extensively by the international media (including Singapore’s newspapers). And the story did not end there. The Danish also took the opportunity to create a dialogue between both countries by commissioning well-known Chinese contemporary artist Ai Wei Wei to produce a site-specific installation in Copenhagen at the location vacated by the statue. Ai’s proposal comprised projecting real-time images of the Little Mermaid in Shanghai onto a screen erected on her empty pedestal in Copenhagen. In this way, Danish audiences could have a chance to share in the Little Mermaid’s trip to the East, as well as to see for themselves how well-loved their icon was in Shanghai.

Denmark pavilion (Photograph from Shanghai Expo official website)

Queues outside the Denmark pavilion

Man outside the pavilion taking a photograph of the Little Mermaid

Screen shot from the Ai Wei Wei artwork website www.mermaidexchange.com

Like the UK pavilion, the Danish strategy succeeded brilliantly. Both projected an aspect of their national identity through either a well-known institution (Kew Gardens) or famous icon (the Little Mermaid). By using actual artefacts (seeds and sculptures), they provided authentic experiences as well as great photo opportunities for the camera-toting Chinese. Both concepts also included active participation by the Chinese in the realisation of the pavilions (through the contribution of Chinese seeds and Ai Wei Wei’s concurrent installation). The use of national icons or assets ensured that the concepts were simple and easy to grasp. More importantly, it ensured that these pavilions were hard to replicate, and even harder to forget.

Note: All photographs were taken by the author unless otherwise stated. Detailed information about each pavilion and additional photographs of the pavilions were derived from the respective countries’ related websites or the Expo official website.

About the Writer

Trained as a lawyer, Low Sze Wee graduated with a Masters’ degree in History of Art from the School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London in 1999. He joined the Singapore Art Museum in 2001 where he eventually became its Deputy Director (Curation and Collections), responsible for developing the museum’s art collection. In 2009, he joined the National Art Gallery of Singapore as its Deputy Director (Curation and Collections). He is now on secondment to the Ministry of Information, Communications and the Arts, working on heritage policy matters.

Since 2001, he has curated or co-curated a number of exhibitions including 20th Century Chinese Paintings in Singapore Collections (2003), the Singapore Exhibition at the 50th Venice Biennale 2003, Embracing Infinity: Works by Tan Swie Hian (2004), Convergences – Chen Wen Hsi Centennial Exhibition (2006),  Xu Beihong in Nanyang (2008), Homelands – Home and Nation in the Art of Ong Kim Seng (2008) and The Story of Yeh Chi Wei (2010).

In 2007, he was given the NHB Research Award. Three of his exhibitions - Convergences – Chen Wen Hsi Centennial Exhibition (2007), The Big Picture Show (2008, co-curated with Ong Zhen Min) and Xu Beihong in Nanyang (2009, co-curated with Chow Yian Ping) – garnered the annual NHB Exhibition Awards.

Guest Writers Have Enhanced My Blog

In order to enlarge the scope, depth and to add value to my blog, I decided last year to introduce a guest writers series as a regular feature of my blog. Seven of my invitees graciously accepted my invitations to share their varying life experiences with viewers. Despite their disparate backgrounds, they all have a common love for reading and writing. Among them were a renowned retired surgeon with two books on Chinese culture to his credit, a retired CEO and former senior politician who travels widely, a well-known botanist and a keen bird-watcher, a retired senior business executive who collects Chinese ceramics, a computer expert with a nose for good food, a creative jewellery designer who is also a fine painter and an internationally acclaimed historian of Chinese mathematics. Judging from the encouraging and positive feedbacks their articles had generated from viewers of many countries, they had made a favourable impact on them. Their pieces have continued to draw viewers even now.

Encouraged and gratified by the success of the first Guest Writers’ Series, I am embarking on a second series for this year. Once again, I was fortunate and privileged to find six good guest writers who had spontaneously consented to be part of my blog and that each will contribute an article on a topic of his or her choice, which will give you a glimpse of their varied and rich life experiences. I have no doubt that their pieces, too, will be good and insightful reads and will go down well with viewers. Among them are a distinguished university administrator and marine biologist with an impeccable record of public service, a prominent museum professional of outstanding curatorial flair, an illustrious squash personality who is well-known both in Singapore and internationally, a UK-trained barrister and former senior lecturer of a leading polytechnic, a legal director of an international bank and a retired international award-winning university don. You are welcome to comment on their pieces, which will be fed back to them for their response if needed. In the next few months, I will take a break from my own monthly inputs, which have now reached more than 60, unless the urge for me to write so overwhelms me that I might pen an article or two in between those of my guest writers!

I now have much pleasure to present my first guest writer of this series, Mr Low Sze Wee, whose contribution, “Simple is Hard to Do: Some Thoughts on Shanghai Expo 2010″, which appears immediately after this posting. Happy reading!

Lam Pin Foo

Arithmetic in Ancient China

An article by guest writer Oon Lay Yong. Refer to “About the Writer” at the end of the post.

Let us consider the basic arithmetic when children begin to learn. First, they are taught the names of the numerals and gradually they are shown how to use them to count. Next, they are taught how to write them and use them for addition, subtraction, multiplication and division. Arithmetic is considered a very important and necessary learning subject for all young children. As the children progress they will go on to learn algebra and geometry. When we know arithmetic well, algebra is a natural development of arithmetic. Geometry deals with space and the objects in space and its most well known early associations are with Euclid’s Elements. In this article we shall focus on arithmetic and explore its origins.

Our children begin by learning the names of the numerals, that is, one, two, three, four, … etc., and learning how to write them, namely, 1, 2, 3, 4, … etc. They then learn how to add, subtract, multiply and divide using them. All these operations are familiar to all of us. Let us list the essential properties of this numeral system: It has nine different signs, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and the “zero” sign 0. From these signs, any numeral however large can be written. For example, three thousand five hundred and ninety two is written as: 3592. This written numeral is said to exhibit a “place value” system. The place value where each numeral is positioned is of great importance. The numeral 2 is in the units place, 9 in the tens place, 5 in the hundreds place and 3 in the thousands place.

Let us look at how the numeral nine thousand and sixty five is written: 9065. 5 is in the units place, 6 is in the tens place and 9 in the thousands place. There is no digit in the hundreds place so the “zero digit” is written there. We can use this numeral system to perform numerous operations including the basic ones of addition, subtraction, multiplication and division. We can also use the system for fractions and their operations. There are also other properties such as expressing a numeral as large or as small as we wish and finding square root or cube root of a numeral.How did the concept of this numeral system originate? Do note here that we are emphasizing the concept of the numeral system and not the shape of the numerals.

The Chinese used this concept as early as the Warring States period (475 to 221 BC). It probably began with simple addition or subtraction by forming the numerals with the use of bones or sticks. With the passing of time, these “sticks” or rods (as I shall call them) became more refined, and the people who needed to do calculations would carry them in a holder or container. The first nine numerals were represented as follows:

As you can see, they had an ingenious way of representing numbers 6 to 9 by making a horizontal rod to denote the quantity 5 while a vertical rod denotes the quantity 1. With these nine numerals in place, they had another remarkable device to represent numerals greater than these. The digits of a numeral in units, tens, hundreds, thousands and so forth were placed side by side, with adjacent digits rotated, to tell each apart. The rotated digits would look like this:

In this case the vertical rod represents the quantity 5 and a horizontal rod the quantity 1. I quote here a written description of these numerals taken from Sun Zi suanjing 孙子算经 (The mathematical classic of Sun Zi) which was written around 400 AD. An English translation of the book can be found in “Fleeting Footsteps. Tracing the Conception of Arithmetic and Algebra” by Lam Lay Yong & Ang Tian Se.

“In the common method of computation with rods, one must first know the positions of the rod numerals. The units are vertical and the tens horizontal, the hundreds stand and the thousands prostrate; thousands and tens look alike and so do ten thousands and hundreds.”

By using this rotation of rods in alternate positions, they discovered that they could denote a numeral no matter how large it was. For example 75,169 and 706,528 would be as shown:

Note that in the notation of the numeral 706528, there is an empty space between 7 and 6. 7 is in the hundred thousands place; there is no digit in the ten thousands place which accounts for the blank space, and 6 is in the thousands place, followed by 5 in the hundreds place, 2 in the tens place and 8 in the units place. With this ingenious device, they had discovered a notation that could express any number no matter how large it was. What is of paramount importance is that each digit of the numeral has to occupy its correct position.There is no existing written account on how addition and subtraction were performed with the rod numerals. As these methods were very commonly and easily performed, they were probably considered too trivial to have them written. We can speculate how these are being performed. For example, in the addition of 16 and 7, this would probably be shown as follows: The numerals 16 and 7 would be placed on the board. The “board” could be any flat surface such as a table top. The numerals were probably displayed in this manner:

The first step is to add the 2 sets of vertical rods which give the quantity 3 represented by three vertical rods. The next step would be to add the two horizontal rods of the digits in the units place, knowing that each represents the quantity 5 so that their sum gives one tens, which is added to the existing horizontal rod on the left. The result 23 is shown below:

In the case of subtraction of 7 from 16, the two numerals are again displayed as above, the two fives are subtracted and thus removed leaving “2” subtracting from “11” above to give “9” as shown below:

Step-by-step descriptions on multiplication and division can be found in Sun Zi suanjing. With the invention of this marvelous numeral notation, the Chinese were able to know how to add, subtract, multiply and divide. Furthermore, the remainder in the division method led to the concept, formation and notation of a fraction. This in turn led to the addition, subtraction, multiplication and division of fractions, the methods of which were very similar to what is being taught to our school children today. All these operations were performed with counting rods.

Despite the vast time difference between the use of the rod numerals and our present numeral system, one cannot help but note that they share similar properties. One of the earliest and most well known book on mathematics in ancient China is Jiu zhang suanshu 九章算数 (Nine chapters on the mathematical art). Li Yan & Du Shiran in their book “Chinese Mathematics: A Concise History” stated that this book “constitutes a consummation and, at the same time, a work representative of the development of ancient Chinese mathematics from the Zhou and Qin to the Han dynasties (c. 11th century BC to 220 AD)”. (Li Yan & Du Shiran’s book has been translated into English by John N. Crossley & Anthony W. C. Lun).

Each of the nine chapters in the book has specific names. Chapter One is titled fang tian 方田 which involves the measurement of areas in square units. This chapter also shows the manipulations of fractions. The title of Chapter Two is su mi 粟米 which means “millet and rice”. It deals with problems on proportions especially on the exchange of cereals. Chapter Three is called cui fen 衰分 meaning “proportional distributions”. Chapter Four is called shao guang 少 广 (short width), Chapter Five shang gong 商功 (discussing work), Chapter Six jun shu 均输 (fair transportation), Chapter Seven ying bu zu 盈不足 (surplus and deficit), Chapter Eight fang cheng 方程 (rectangular tabulation, lit.square procedure), Chapter Nine gou gu 勾股 (right angled triangles, lit. the perpendicular sides of a right-angled triangle).

In the above I have emphasized that both our present arithmetic and the ancient Chinese arithmetic are built on numeral systems which have the same properties although the shape of the numerals are different. Besides the above two Chinese books, the ancient Chinese had also written numerous other mathematical texts. However, it is sufficient from the above two works to note that the Chinese were the initiators of the arithmetic that is still being taught to our school children today.

About the Writer

Oon Lay Yong is a retired professor of mathematics, formerly from the National University of Singapore.

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