Letter from Singapore: In 1990, Singapore's modern founder demoted himself from prime minister to senior minister after more than 30 years in office. But, before slipping into the political shadows, Mr Lee Kuan Yew warned that he would rise up from his "grave" if things went wrong.
Over 13 years later, just as the dominant Chinese community in Singapore were preparing to ring in the lunar new year (the year of the monkey), the man acclaimed by his people for transforming a third-world slum into a first-world technocrats' utopia made a dramatic return to the political stage.
Across the rest of the world's media, Mr Lee's unexpected intervention in a long-running industrial dispute went largely unnoticed. But in Singapore it was taken as a clear demonstration of his enduring grip on power.
Certainly his threat to sack all of the pilots at Singapore Airlines unless they agreed to accept the 16.5 per cent pay cut levied during last year's SARS crisis showed that he had lost none of the pugilistic energy which characterised his era in office.
However, the octogenarian's decision to personally "clean up" the flag-carrier's pilot problem rather than leave the public battle to the prime minister, Goh Chok Tong, suggests that all is not well in this tiny city state, which holds the dubious distinction of being widely described as one of the "most boring places on Earth".
In fact, its stuffy reputation is causing Mr Lee's ruling People's Action Party (PAP), which has been in power since Singapore's independence from Malaysia in 1965, increasing concern as South-East Asia's new centres of growth begin to prove a more attractive option for investors than strait-laced Singapore.
Despite the ominous outbreak of avian flu, many economists rate cities such as Shanghai, Kuala Lumpur and Bangkok as the region's potential economic powerhouses of the future - a position once held by Singapore.
In an attempt to convince foreign nationals that the city dubbed "Disneyland with the death penalty" is an exciting destination, the government has signalled that it is to loosen some of the many social restrictions.
For example, the ban on oral sex looks likely to be lifted for consenting heterosexual adults. Homosexuals, however, will still face a possible life sentence if convicted of the crime. Other laws up for review include bans on bungee-jumping, bar-top dancing and gum-chewing.
But lowering its record as the world's number one execution state is not on the cards, despite Amnesty International's condemnation of the non-negotiable death penalty for drug-trafficking.
The new "openness" follows two tumultuous years in which Singapore has seen some of the worst growth rates on record, with the technology crash, the global economic downturn and the SARS crisis combining to push unemployment to its highest level in 17 years.
Two years ago, those who publicly criticised the government were either forcibly exiled or sued into bankruptcy in government-led defamation actions, as was the case with the opposition leader in the 2001 elections. But the harsher financial conditions have sparked fierce criticism from high-ranking officials of both the PAP's policies and the grip Mr Lee's family has had on key government and state assets.
Not that foreign visitors would notice any signs of discontent under Singapore's well-polished veneer. Strict anti-litter regulations brought in under Mr Lee mean that the city streets are spotless, while the frighteningly efficient air-conditioned buses and metro lines probably rank as the cleanest public transport in the world.
Jay-walking here incurs hefty fines, so Singaporeans obediently cross their wide, tree-lined streets at the lights, where groups of rickshaw drivers, their vehicles splashed with advertisements for Leeds football club, patiently ring their bells at passing tourists.
Such is the all-pervasive fear of government persecution that few are willing to speak openly about their society.
However, as the pilots' dispute demonstrates, shrinking economic growth may prove to be Singapore's Achilles heel. While the founding-father's still formidable reputation quashed any threat of a strike, commentators in the region question the extent to which the expected appointment of Mr Lee's deputy prime minister son to the top job later this year will further entrench the Lee family's dynastic control over Singapore.
In the few internet chat rooms which have escaped closure from the government, many question whether they have become "slaves" to Mr Lee's family corporate empire, which includes the state's major companies, such as Singapore Airlines, SingTel and all of the print and broadcast media, and amounts to $30 billion in annual revenues.
One thing is clear: Mr Lee is unlikely to return to his political "grave" in the near future. After all, it's the year of the monkey, and anything can happen.