The tangled case of the Economist ’s brush with the law began with a June 1993 article called “Psst—wanna see a statistic?” The piece dealt with five journalists from the local Business Times who were being prosecuted by the Singapore government under the Official State Secrets Act for reporting on the government’s preliminary, or “flash” GDP estimates. ^[39] On July 10, 1993, the Economist published two letters in response to the piece: one from the country’s leading opposition politician, J.B. Jeyaretnam, and one from Singapore’s high commissioner in London, Abdul Aziz Mahmood. In order to make Mahmood’s letter fit, the editors of the Economist cut one sentence.

Two days after the July 10 issue came out, Mahmood wrote in again, protesting the cut and adding another paragraph in response to Jeyaretnam’s letter. He demanded that this latest letter be published in full. The Economist declined to publish it, which prompted the Ministry of Information to write to the magazine in support of Mahmood’s request, saying that the deleted sentence was a crucial one. If the Economist failed to remedy the situation in one of the two upcoming issues, the ministry said, the magazine would be gazetted for refusing the government its right of reply.

After some negotiation, Economist Editor Bill Emmott agreed to publish a new letter from Mahmood, one that would contain the omitted sentence and explain its significance, so that it would no longer be, in Emmott’s words, “obscure, misleading or distorting.” ^[40] Instead, acting on instructions from the Ministry, Mahmood wrote two letters, one of which was a reply to Jeyaretnam’s letter. The Economist published just the first letter on July 31, and refused to publish two letters from the same person in one issue.

On August 2, the government announced it was gazetting the Economist , freezing its circulation at the current level of 7,500 copies. It also revoked the magazine’s exemption from the new rules for offshore newspapers. Now the Economist would be required to name a solicitor in Singapore and to post S$200,000 in case of any libel litigation. If the Economist did not print the letter, the ministry said, circulation would be reduced further. ^[41] “The government’s policy on its right of reply is well publicized and applies to all domestic and foreign journals which circulate in Singapore,” a ministry statement said. ^[42]

Initially, the Economist balked at the demand, and took aim at Singapore’s economic aspirations, threatening to transfer a “substantial printing contract out of Singapore.” ^[43] Even if the Economist were banned in Singapore, some reasoned, it would barely make a dent in the publication’s circulation of half a million copies. ^[44] The magazine seemed in a better position to bargain than other gazetted publications had been.

But suddenly, on August 3, the Economist agreed to print the letter in its next issue, saying that this had always been its intention. In a statement explaining its decision, the Economist explained that it always sought “to obey the laws of countries in which we wish to publish.” That said, the Economist assured its audience that it would not allow readers to be “misled or somehow abused.” If ever its pages were to become “a propaganda sheet,” Emmott insisted, “we would choose to cease circulating in that jurisdiction.” ^[45] The Economist remained gazetted and its circulation capped at 7,500.