ISD officer: "I am not trying to justify but sometimes you have to slap them so they confess.”

Article #31

After my continued detention was confirmed in 2019, Hafiz returned as the main psychologist. Roslinda continued to attend too. Hafiz briefly mentioned his postgraduate work in England. He said he learned to be holistic in his approach.

His focus for the fourth year was for me not to trust others. I was told I was too trusting which resulted in me being used. It was not a new theme, just a stronger emphasis.

One common argument the ISD officers and psychologists made was that those who spoke against the government were used by others. I was told I was being used. Why would anyone want to criticise the PAP of their own accord?

This was of course, a continuation and yet contrary to their earlier demand that I should criticise myself. I had to go from “I was wrong” to “others made me”. There was of course, a convergence in the criticism and blame. What they wanted was for me to believe that I would not have criticised the PAP but others had tricked me into doing it. And it was my mistake for believing them.

For the first couple of years, I rejected the argument. Later, I played along. Hafiz expanded on the theme by saying ISA detainees were altruistic. They are “radicalised” because they want to help others.

I was told to stop trying to help society and to focus on my family. I argued that while it was true that others wanted me to take up issues that they were too afraid to raise, ultimately, these were my decisions. The problem was not that I discussed PAP’s mistakes in public or that I criticised them. The problem was the climate of fear that stopped others from speaking up.

But even as I disputed with them, I knew that it was not helpful for my release. I met with the psychologists 10-12 times a year. I knew that if they submitted a report that I would still criticise the government, my detention would be extended.

If I criticised the PAP in one session, I had to undo it and argued against the position the next time I met the psychologists. It was difficult. I hated having to pretend. To maintain the pretence, I had to come up with memory techniques. Before meeting with the psychologists, I would have to come up with a list of things to discuss, which included what they wanted me to say. When I found myself speaking openly in one session, the next month, I had to undo what I said.

It was not easy. I had to remind myself that the psychologists and ISD officers had been lying to me the last few years. They of course, claimed to have good reasons for everything they did.

I told Iqbal that I met with a couple of Singaporeans who were detained in 1987. One of them told me she was slapped repeatedly by ISD officers.

Iqbal replied, “I am not trying to justify it, but sometimes if you know, then you have to. I watched this Indian movie. There’s this reporter wrote an article about a police inspector who beat up criminals. Because of her article, the inspector was demoted.

Then one day, someone stole her camera. She took the thief to the police station and told the inspector to make him confess and return her camera. The inspector bought the thief biryani and asked him ‘did you steal her camera?’. The thief said ‘no’.

So the inspector told the reporter he said ‘no’. She told him beat him up. Finally, the inspector gave him one big slap and then he confess. I am not trying to justify but sometimes you have to slap them so they confess.”

Iqbal told me that detaining me helped me. “It’s like you have gangrene so we cut off your leg. You lose your leg but you can live. Before this you wasted your life talking politics. Now you can focus on your job and become successful.”

Tim told me that the chairman of the Banyan Tree resorts was detained under the ISA. He credited his detention for his success. I was interested in the stories they tell themselves to justify their corruption. Krishnan said they were trying to help detainees but the detainees were not cooperating.

Hafiz continued to demand that I should not discuss politics. He criticised “keyboard warriors” who disagreed with Halimah Yaacob becoming Singapore’s President. Iqbal made the same reference.

“All these social media complainers because a woman become President of Singapore. It is secular what, what is wrong?” Hafiz asked.

“I have no problem with a woman becoming President of Singapore. There have been queens in Malay societies before. My problem is: why is it another PAP President? How is she supposed to check on the PAP government?”

Hafiz asked me about secularism. I asked him what it meant to him.

“It means everyone living together and getting along with each other.”

I was surprised that was what he thought. “You serious?”

He looked unsure. “Yes” he said.

I turned to Roslinda. She claimed to have studied philosophy. “Can you tell him what secularism means?”

Roslinda was uncomfortable. “What he said. Everyone getting along with each other.”

After almost 4 years of discussions, they did not understand secularism or how I used it.

“That is not what secularism means. Secularism is about materiality. It is about privileging the material, temporal life. Why would I criticise people getting along with each other? I criticised the emphasis on the material in life and in governance at the expense of the non- material, religious and spiritual.”

We discussed philosophy several times. Or at least, I thought we did. I realised later that I discussed it but they did not.

Hafiz argued that since I was not in government, I did not have the right to discuss the government’s policies and actions. My responsibility was only to my family, not to society or to discuss policy. I discussed Kantian public and private use of reason. I told him I understood that as a psychologist in government service, he needed to perform his job but he would have a responsibility to society that is external to his private function as an MHA psychologist.

Similarly, I was a political activist and researcher in political science and international relations. I had a public responsibility to use my expertise for societal development.

Ustadz Mohamed had initially thought in a democratic society, majority views would be imposed on minority communities. He thought the Muslims being minorities in Singapore should feel fortunate with our condition.

I have heard this misunderstanding of democracy among a lot of Singapore Muslim community leaders. They believed the PAP’s threat that if they pushed for their interests, then the Chinese would push for theirs, making it difficult for the Muslims. In the PAP’s narrative, the one protection against tyranny of the majority was the PAP.

I had to explain to him that a democracy is not simply about majority. “Have you read De Tocqueville’s Democracy in America?” He had not.

“Why don’t you read it Sheikh? Then we can discuss the attributes of democracy, tyranny of the majority and how a democratic society can establish institutions that protect the rights of minorities.”

This sense of accepting everything that the PAP demands seemed to permeate his thinking. The PAP system was the only one to accept. Even though he alluded to working with PAP out of a necessity that he did not elaborate, I had expected more from him.

Tim, Iqbal, Amir and Ustadz Mohamed also made references to the inapplicability of the Shariah. They made it sound as though the Shariah was to be rejected.

Ustadz Mohamed’s argument however, was not that the Shariah as a whole should be rejected but that it was not relevant today, especially in multireligious societies.

My position was that a society had the right to its own socio-political and legal systems, whatever the system maybe. If a Muslim society wanted the Shariah for itself, then it had the right to it. If a non-Muslim society wants it, then it has the right to it too.

The discussion with the two Ustadz, Mohamed and Feisal concerned the applicability of the Shariah. Ustadz Mohamed, in the 2nd year, argued against the Shariah. Ustadz Feisal, in the 4th year was doubtful about its applicability.

In response to my argument that a society, even a multireligious one could choose to live according to the principles of the Shariah, Ustadz Mohamed asked, why would non-Muslims want to do so.

I told him, “In 2008, I went to Malaysia for the World Halal Forum. I took a taxi with a Victorian government officer, Eddie, from the airport to the hotel. It was soon after the Malaysian elections. The driver was Hindu. He had a statue of Ganesh on his dashboard.

Eddie and I talked to the driver about the elections. The driver said he was happy that a lot of Ministers lost their seats because he said they were corrupt. Eddie asked the driver if there was any non-corrupt Ministers.

The driver said ‘that man, that man, in Kelantan. He is not corrupt. You go his house, he don’t even have a chair to sit on’.”

The man in Kelantan he referred to was Nik Aziz, the spiritual head of the Islamic Party of Malaysia.

“Just because someone is not Muslim, does not mean he will reject the Shariah. He may see value in the Shariah.”

I had a similar conversation with Ustadz Feisal a couple of years later. I asked if he was English. He said he was not.

“Any connections to England?”

No.

“Are Singaporeans English?”

Of course not.

“Then why do we use English law? Why do we support it and apply it?” I asked. “It is because we see its value, because it was applied on us prior to Singapore becoming a state and we followed on with it and we accept its effectiveness and legitimacy. Do you believe we cannot promote the Shariah as a system that is legitimate, that has value and effective too? Why do we privilege the English political-legal system and argue it can be applied on us who are not English, but believe that the Shariah will definitely be rejected?”

Ustadz Feisal however agreed that Hafiz and Roslinda’s response on secularism did not make sense. “Yes, secularism is about materiality” he said. I am not sure if he was just agreeing with me as a matter of conversation.

“Sheikh, of all the states, which one will you say is closest to be non-secular?” I asked him.

“Morocco” he replied, after some hesitation. He felt Morocco was not as concerned about the economy as other Muslim states.

“For me, the closest to a non-secular state is the Vatican. Its concern is mainly religious, not material.”

“They still like money” he argued.

“Sure, but the material well-being of Catholics is not the driving force of the Vatican. Its focus is developing the religious, moral well-being of its followers.”

After more than a year of meeting Ustadz Feisal once a month, he admitted that he did not understand me. Krishnan and Iqbal told me to listen and internalise their messages. I was told I talked too much with Ustadz Mohamed and that I should listen. Krishnan told me off for arguing terrorism is about politics instead of religion. They wanted me to believe that religion was the cause.

With Ustadz Feisal, I let him speak more. A lot of his views resonated with me, especially when we discussed God’s mercy. For those I disagreed, I usually kept quiet or made some minor responses.

Ustadz Feisal said he did not know how to assess me. I was told to write my views. As usual, I knew that whatever I wrote would be read by various people including ISD officers and the psychologists. I wrote my response with that in mind. Iqbal however, pretended as though only Ustadz Feisal would read it.

A couple of weeks after I submitted my response, one of the ISD officers told me: “I don’t understand what you wrote. I had to give it to my boss.”

Continued in the next article.