People will believe what they want to believe

Arguing is usually pointless, says the writer, as Malaysians love conspiracies. — Bernama

IN Malaysia, there is a trust deficit in the authorities. Or we love conspiracy theories. Or both.

Over the last few days, I have been chatting face-to-face or via text with politicians, family members, and friends about a strange subject.

I was responding to a video that was shared and a message in a group chat about a 45-year-old civil servant who was found dead with his neck and feet tied with cables in his office in Putrajaya last week.

A message by a Sarawakian politician suggested that criminal elements were involved in the officer’s death.

The police determined that the cause of death was compression of the neck due to ligature strangulation.

“Based on the postmortem report and pathologist’s statement, the investigation is still classified as sudden death,” Kuala Lumpur police chief Datuk Seri Rusdi Mohd Isa said.

The viral message asked several questions, including this one: “How can a man be found bound and strangled in a high- security government office and yet it is not considered a crime?”

The message demanded a full, transparent, and independent investigation into the true cause of the death, and an explanation about why the police dismissed criminal intent despite clear signs of foul play.

I ignored the message. I knew arguing would be pointless; people want to believe what they want to believe. Plus, Malaysians love conspiracies.

Sometimes, our political beliefs shape what we believe. If you say N is corrupt, they will believe it 100%. But if you say L is involved in corruption, they will not accept it because they are his supporters.

It is the reverse for those on the other side of the political divide. If you say N is corrupt, they will not believe it. But if you say L is involved in corruption, they will accept it 100%.

Anyway, back to the viral message.

A prominent politician who previously held a high government post shared it, and I couldn’t resist pointing him in the direction of a famous case in Bangkok that looked like murder but turned out to be death by misadventure.

And I got that information straight from famous Thai forensic expert Porntip Rojanasunan, the director of the Central Institute of Forensic Science, as I was based in Bangkok at the time.

My explanation did persuade some that there was no foul play involved in the civil servant’s death.

But some still insist foul play is involved. “Right inside Putrajaya office?” was a common retort to my explanation.

Death can happen anywhere, I replied.

Anyway, people generally want to believe what they want to believe.

For example, when I tell people that C4 explosives were not involved in the murder of Mongolian model Altantuya Shaariibuu in 2006, some will not believe it.

They will accuse me of being pro former prime minister Datuk Seri Najib Razak.

I then usually share with them a news report published in June 2014 about a Court of Appeal hearing.

“UTK never used C4 explosives. We never said the explosives were C4. We never said that, but these people from day one, they said C4,” said Datuk Tun Abdul Majid Tun Hamzah, the lead prosecutor in the appeal, referring to the Special Actions Unit or Unit Tindakhas.

“Police don’t use C4. We do not know how the Court of Appeal could say C4.

“We told them from the very beginning,” he said, adding that the word “C4” was also not found in the record of evidence but the label has persisted “until today”.

Tun Abdul Majid clarified that the explosives used in Altantuya’s murder were PETN and RDX.

I double checked with sources in Bukit Aman and with those involved in the legal aspects of the murder trial, and they said no C4 was involved.

But till today, many believe that it was used.

That is the power of conspiracy theories – or the curse of a lack of information or knowledge. Ignorance can be bliss and fuel for conspiracy theories.