The release of the first volume of his memoirs -- right smack in the midst of regional economic problems -- has been described as ill-timed. But the truth is there would never have been a "right" time.

Regardless of when The Singapore Story had been published, it would have caused an uproar on this side of the Causeway. Digging up the past is often an unpleasant affair.

Nonetheless, those who employ logic in their reasoning would realise there is insufficient grounds for allegations that SM Lee deliberately let loose his memoirs at an inopportune period.

A properly-substantiated volume could only be completed after he was able to gain access to certain documents in the British archives; this happened in 1995, after the traditional 30-year limit on confidentiality had expired.

That Mr Lee needed another three years of research following that to complete his book is entirely plausible. It would be hasty and paranoid of us to accuse him of kicking Malaysia when it is already down; it would also be ironic, since many Malaysians, in turn, regard Mr Lee himself as the one suffering from a severe case of paranoia.

In a report published in Asiaweek on Sept 25, Mr Lee dismisses such allegations: "Indeed, publishing my book at this time is a disadvantage, because people have less money to buy my books." This may be a cheeky way of defending himself, but it is one that brooks no argument.

The Singapore Story is dedicated to Mr Lee's "wife and partner" Kwa Geok Choo. In the early part of the first volume, he writes about his family background and childhood days, his academic exploits and achievements, his experiences during the Japanese Occupation in the early 40s, and his law studies at Cambridge.

Later chapters are devoted to his political career: his struggles against communism, his fight for Singapore's independence from a colonial government, his plans for the island's merger with Malaya, and the eventual secession of Singapore from the federation of Malaysia. The People's Action Party (PAP), of which he is a founder, figures prominently.

It is a long but enlightening read, and one which gradually shows the stuff that Mr Lee is made of -- he is smart, impatient, efficient, shrewd, candid, determined and arrogant. The first few chapters are particularly revealing -- from young, Mr Lee was a high achiever with lofty ambitions. To his credit, he courted and married a woman who was, academically at least, smarter than him.

While they were studying together in Raffles College, "Choo", who later became a Queen's Scholar, regularly outperformed him in English and Economics. This seems to have been the main reason he first took notice of her. Later he was also instrumental in helping "Choo" secure a place at Girton College in Cambridge.

Another interesting disclosure in the book is Mr Lee's secret marriage to "Choo" in Britain. He bought her a platinum wedding ring which she wore on a chain around her neck, and for close to three years, they told no one about their marriage. Once they had both completed their studies and were back in Singapore, Mr Lee asked "Choo's" father for her hand and set a date for the wedding. The couple then went through a second ceremony at the Registry of Marriages in Singapore, and a hotel reception for relatives and friends.

Accounts of Mr Lee's memoirs as a deeply biased interpretation of past events are exaggerated. In fact, local reports on the book have been more biased than the memoirs themselves. It may be true that his recollection of history is self-serving, that he tries his best to portray himself in a positive light but that is to be expected of any individual. It would have been naive to expect a perennial politician, particularly one as forward and ambitious as SM Lee, to play down his own achievements.

Although his blunt statements have displeased many Malaysians over the years, a large segment of the older generation continue to regard Mr Lee as a brilliant statesman worthy of their admiration. Even if we are loathe to live in sterile Singapore, we have to acknowledge that Mr Lee's leadership helped to build up a tiny and vulnerable island.

The Singapore Story comes endorsed by an impressive list of world leaders, among them former British prime minister Margaret Thatcher, Japanese finance minister Kiichi Miyazawa and French president Jacques Chirac. (Interestingly, few on the list are Asians, fewer still are women, and none is African.) Malaysia's special functions minister and economic adviser to the government, Tun Daim Zainuddin, is also among them. He writes: "It was Lee Kuan Yew's vision, astute political judgment and strategy that turned the city of Singapore from a trading post into the thriving nation that it is today. Modern Singapore is Lee Kuan Yew. For those interested in politics and economic development, his memoirs should be required reading."

Mr Lee's writing is precise, readable, and occasionally witty. He has a naturally taut style which does not overwhelm his points, although at times the excessive details can be tedious.

Scattered throughout the memoirs are photographs, both personal and political, which also paint a vivid story. His forthright (some say inaccurate) portrayal of various characters is engaging and illuminating. He obviously reads people well and seems to have a clear understanding of his own personality.

His anecdotes about Tunku Abdul Rahman and Tun Abdul Razak, particularly those of the former, offer rare glimpses into the humanness of leaders most of us have not known personally.

It is true that the Tunku has not in any way been painted as a saint, but Mr Lee does seem to have had a certain amount of affection for him, especially in the early days of their political relationship.

In one instance, he finds the Tunku "altogether a most agreeable dinner companion, full of little stories, often told at his own expense in a most charming manner. His object in life was happiness... his aim for Malaya was not wealth, greatness or grandeur, but happiness in a land without hatred or troubles..." (Pg 441).

Some have said that Mr Lee underrates the Tunku's abilities and trivialises his contributions to Malaysia -- but it takes more than discovering Tunku's foibles to diminish mature Malaysians' regard for their country's first prime minister.

Not all leaders are perfect, and it is time we stopped thinking that they are. Even Lee Kuan Yew is not perfect.

Malaysia's education minister, Datuk Seri Najib Abdul Razak, and defence minister, Datuk Syed Hamid Albar, have both expressed their anger towards Mr Lee. They claim he has maligned their respective fathers, both of whom have passed away and are therefore not in a position to defend themselves.

But having been a practising lawyer before, Mr Lee has been careful not to place himself in a position where he can be sued successfully.

He has not, however, spoken ill of all the dead. In page 348 of his memoirs, he pays tribute to Tun Dr Ismail Dato Abdul Rahman, Malaysia's second deputy prime minster: "I came to like and respect him for his direct and straightforward manner... He would have made a very good prime minister had he not died rather young from a heart problem."

For those of us who were not yet born during those tumultuous years before Singapore's final independence in 1965, the absolute truth will be virtually impossible to uncover.

One can only conclude that it is Mr Lee's prerogative to air his views, to "publish and be damned" (or not, as the case may be). Similarly, it is also the prerogative of Malaysians who lived through those times to publish their own accounts of what really happened to separate the two nations.

There are many lessons to be gleaned from his memoirs. It provides both Malaysians and Singaporeans with a sense of their history, an understanding of how former events have shaped the current mind-set of our southern neighbours.

After reading The Singapore Story, it becomes easier to appreciate why the country is so hung up on orderliness and cleanliness.

Personally, I felt somewhat cheated by the history textbooks I had studied in school, which had given the merging and secession of Singapore such cursory mention. Mr Lee's account is much more colourful, comprehensive and spectacular.

In the last chapter, he likens Singapore's secession -- or expulsion, whichever way one prefers to look at it -- to a divorce. The metaphor is spot on: irreconcilable differences have broken up the most promising partnerships.

It is not difficult to empathise with Mr Lee's regret at the painfully unsuccessful integration of the two nations. In the early to mid-60s, separation seemed to be the only solution, and the Malaysian public's reaction to a possible reunification (a suggestion which Mr Lee himself broached in 1996) hints at major opposition to any future merger.

Perhaps Malaysia and Singapore could have been great together. Perhaps not. But in the end, his memoirs should not be digested for the sole purpose of picking apart and quibbling over some supposedly unfaithful historical accounts.

Dr Henry A. Kissinger, former US secretary of state, and one of the many who endorsed the book, says: "(Lee) will undoubtedly raise many controversies. But whether one agrees or not, one will learn a great deal."