The sins of the father and all that crap

"If indeed, the government is in anyway implicated in the physical and mental distress of Raja Azman, simply for the sake of getting back at RPK, then it deserves nothing less then the curse of the whole nation upon it."

RPK and his son
by Suflan Shamsuddin | The Malaysian Insider

FEB 11 — Yesterday, Malaysia Today published an article stating that RPK’s lawyers met his son, Raja Azman (left) at Sungai Buloh Hospital. They confirmed that his son, who is currently in remand, had slashed his wrist and swallowed a razor blade. Raja Azman broke down and cried saying that he could no longer stand the physical and mental torture that he was subjected to in jail, and that he wanted ‘out’. And the only way out to him is to end his life.

RPK’s fugitive status arose out of him not making himself available to attend trials relating to charges for criminal defamation and sedition, and the prosecution’s appeal against his ISA release. Having languished in detention twice under wildly draconian and discretionary laws, in both cases subjected to police custody in solitary confinement in locations unknown and in cells no larger than the size of my toilet, never seeing the light of day for days on end, and never knowing where he is, would you not share his sense of impending rough justice, and be tempted to do the same thing, were you to have been in his shoes?

His real major ‘crime’ was to suggest in a Statutory Declaration published in the Internet that there were others involved in the murder of Altantuuya. But in his writings, RPK claims that it was not him that leaked this SD. In fact, his lawyers had handed over the SD to the prosecution team in person and in strict confidence with the hope of convincing them to expand their investigations. However the SD had been leaked by a blogger who disliked RPK, as a result of which RPK was charged for criminal defamation.

Had the leak not happened, RPK would have had considerably less ‘heat’ on his back. He might have found the situation sufficiently manageable and taken his chances in court on the remaining legal matters. He might have remained in KL a free man, having roti canai and teh tarik with his friends, probably bitching about the government, but with his life and that of his family intact.

Instead he has imposed self-exile upon himself and most of his family, and taken himself out of the public sphere in order to continue his cause to speak out against matters for which he continues to feel strongly. And the rhetoric from those who want him brought down has grown stronger and bolder.

RPK by Art Harun

No matter how you look at it, RPK’s actions are not that of a heinous and evil nature that befits the tag of being a vicious criminal. After all, at the end of the day, no matter whether one agrees with him, or condones the expressive language he uses, or questions his motives, countless of millions of Malaysians all share a common desire with him. And that is to see meaningful change to greater transparency, accountability, and tolerance in the country.

We all want integrity in government and the recognition that the government is there to serve the Rakyat and not the other way round. And so no matter what discretion and authority the government might avail to make him out to be a criminal, there are millions of Malaysians who will not care. Instead, they would have lit a virtual candle in a quiet part of their soul for him, as a tribute to this man who they believe has put everything on the line, for the sake of doing that which they cannot do, in order that they benefit from a better Malaysia.

For certain, the price he has paid for the choices he has taken far exceeds what most people would be willing to pay. And the frightening cloak and dagger, cat and mouse game he plays with the authorities is presumably part of that bargain. And somehow, this game between RPK and the authorities, as to which fox outwits the other, is played with some basic ‘law of the jungle’-sense of fairness. And so the dispassionate onlooker might see ultimate victory and defeat as fair game to either side.

But when a son becomes a pawn or collateral damage in this game, then the dynamics shift. The lack of gamesmanship that this suggests to any onlooker is deplorable and sickening.

If indeed, the government is in anyway implicated in the physical and mental distress of Raja Azman, simply for the sake of getting back at RPK, then it deserves nothing less then the curse of the whole nation upon it. Were this to be the case, the people will damn this government in everyway it can, and those involved, for such a cowardly and shameful act. I am reasonably sure that every moment RPK and his family is tormented by the uncertainty of his son’s fate, millions of Malaysians around the world will be similarly tormented alongside them in sympathy for the pain that only a father, a mother or a member of the family can feel under such circumstances.

I implore the world media to pick up this story and help uncover what has really happened to Raja Azman, and truly find out how is he being treated.

I beseech the government to clarify his condition and the circumstances under which he has been looked after. Prove to the people that the government is beyond reproach in this matter.

Let this not end in a tragedy for a family and a tragedy for the nation.

Suflan Shamsuddin qualified as a barrister at law from Middle Temple and has been called to the Malaysian Bar. He is currently working in a Fortune 500 company as a senior counsel and is based in London. He is also author of the book “RESET: Rethinking the Malaysian Political Paradigm.”

Raja Petra Kamarudin: TO HELL AND BACK!

I have long suspected that Raja Petra Kamarudin aka RPK aka Uncle Pete is an escapee from the Marvel Comics Universe. His true life exploits equal or surpass any to be found within the paneled layouts of those hallowed (and often yellowed) pages inhabited by a pantheon of wondrous beings spawned by the feverish imaginations of Jewish creator gods with names like Stan Lee and Steve Ditko. RPK's latest adventure takes place in the Null Zone Fortress known by the code name "Peace Hill." He had been accused of saying nasty things about Malaysia's Deputy Prime Minister and his gross wife in connection with a sensational Mongolian murder case. Below is RPK's dramatic "Tale of Two Rajas" told in his own inimitable words...

The police officer told me that a police report had been made against me but when I asked to see a copy of the police report they could not produce it. The police officer walked around the room pondering what to do and then sat down again and said he does not know where the police report is. In fact, he had never even seen it.

I then told the police officer that I too had made a police report against the CID Director, Bakri Zinin, after he assaulted me in March 2001. What happened to that police report, I asked him, and why was nothing done about it?

He replied that he does not know anything about that police report and I told him that we are not going to discuss this new police report made against me until we first settle the matter of the police report that I made in March 2001. That was seven years ago, I said, and nothing has been done about it. I do not wish to talk about a police report made against me just a few days ago.


I then asked under what section is my statement going to be taken. Is it under Section 112? When the police officer replied ‘yes’, I then asked him whether he was going to read me my rights under this cautioned statement? Before he could reply I replied, “Never mind. Let me teach you some law. Let me tell you the terms and conditions of Section 112.” By then my lawyer, YB William Leong, looked rather lost. He had absolutely no idea where this whole thing was leading to.

“Under Section 112, I must reply to all questions, right?” The police officer nodded and I shot back with, “Well, I refuse to make any statement.” He gave me a blank look so I repeated, “I am not going to make a statement. I refuse to make a statement.”

I saw the police officer’s mouth open as if he wanted to say something but the words just seemed to elude him. “Look,” I said, “Under Section 112, I can’t refuse to make a statement. If I do then you have to arrest me. So arrest me now.”

By now he was completely disoriented and did not know how to react. “No, we are not like that,” he said. “We don’t want to arrest you. We just want to record your statement.”

“Well, I refuse to give my statement so it is now your duty to arrest me. That is your job. If you don’t arrest me your boss will fuck you. So arrest me now.” I held out my arms so that he could cuff them.

The police officer gave a very nervous laugh and looked at YB William with a ‘please help me out’ look on his face. YB William shrugged his shoulders and pointed to me in a ‘that is between you and him, I am not involved’ gesture.

“You are not giving me any alternative,” lamented the police officer.

“Hey, don’t say that. I am giving you an alternative. We can either both walk out of here and I will buy you a beer or you can throw me in the lockup. This is Friday evening so I will not be brought before a magistrate until Monday morning. That means you have me for two whole nights.”

“I don’t drink,” the police officer replied.

“What? You don’t smoke and don’t drink? What’s become of the Malaysian police force? It has certainly gone downhill from the old days. What sins do you have anyway? You must have at least one.”

“I think his sin must be that other one,” YB William butted in with a twinkle in his eyes, the first sound he had made in all that time.

"No, no, that one also no,” the police officer quickly clarified lest he receive an invitation to adjourn to Jalan Alor for some merriment.

“Look,” I said. “You either arrest me or else in five minutes I am going to stand up and walk out of here. Once I walk out of here I do not want to see your face again. I tak mahu tengok muka you lagi. Either arrest me or leave me alone for the rest of my life. Don’t disturb me anymore. And if you come to my house again I will refuse to open the door. You will have to shoot the door down to get into my house.”

“No lah. Don’t talk like that. I just have to take your statement, that’s all, or else my boss will screw me.”

“Okay, I don’t want your boss to fuck you. You look like a nice guy and we Rajas must support each other (yes, the police officer was an Indian named Raja). So I will give you five minutes to go talk to your boss to ask him what you should do while I go smoke a cigarette. In five minutes I am out of here and you will never see me again.”

Raja put me in the ‘smoking’ area of the office while he went to see his boss. In a short while another three police officers joined us and we went through the entire process again for the next two hours. Eventually they had no choice but to let me walk out of Bukit Aman without recording my statement.

Rest assured, though, this is not the end yet. They will be coming back for round two so we shall have to see what round two is going to be before we decide what is going to happen. The bottom line is, either they get off my back or they throw me in jail and throw away the key. I could not be bothered one bit what it is going to be. I am prepared for the worst. My objective is plain and simple. Altantuya’s murderers are going to be sent to hell. And I don’t mind going to hell myself to see this happen.

Good night, Bukit Aman, wherever you are.

Signing off, Raja Petra, now operating from a cyber café…… sigh.

Read the entire story here.

[Illustrations courtesy of Marvel Comics]