Mob rule: When justice is upended

THERE’S always an almost rabid interest every time a top civil servant is accused of corruption. Actually, even being questioned by the Malaysian Anti-Corruption Commission is usually enough for social media to get all hot and bothered.

There have been hecklers barging into closed-door seminars, demonstrations and even a so-called “academic” forum to discuss the accusation. And all this before there have been any official charges brought.

It seems we, Malaysians, are too impatient to wait for justice to take its course and have decided to take matters into our own hands without caring an ounce about due process or dignity.

In this week’s column, I wish to share my experience as a member of a disciplinary committee at a public university and also at the Higher Education Ministry to provide insight into how the wheels of justice properly turn.

In 2018, I was appointed to the Academic Integrity Committee.

The appointment came as a surprise but in the end I served for less than two years – the infamous Sheraton Move that toppled an elected government in 2020 also led to the whole committee being axed.

Then came the aftermath of the 2022 general election and the formation of the unity government, after which I was appointed to the board of governors at a public university for about three years.

Among my responsibilities was a seat on the Disciplinary Commit­tee for both academics and administrative staff.

I, therefore, have been involved in these committees for about five years all together. I have helped to sack, demote and dock the salaries of academics and administrators.

Before sharing my experience, I would like to paint a little background of myself as a civil servant in a government statutory.

Throughout my almost three decades at a public university, from 1987 to 2015, when I opted for retirement, I was not a “model” civil servant. I chose to follow my conscience about expressing my opinion on the role of universities in improving society. Universities here, in my opinion, focus on developing knowledge so academics can pursue promotion; the focus is narrow and doesn’t seem to impact the wider society. My proof? It lies in how I cannot see substantial improvement in vital-to-nation-building matters like corruption and race relations.

When I decided to follow my own path, especially in writing in the media on issues of education, race relations, religious interpretations and politics, I was subjected to some attempts at disciplinary action, but luckily I was never charged formally with anything.

I was lucky to be granted retirement when I asked for it – and I’m sure the place was glad to get rid of its “problem lecturer”! I say that because, tellingly, when I left after 27 years it was alone and without ceremony – usually, an academic who has published 50 books and won many publication awards would be celebrated but I was considered by most a “controversial academic”.

I wanted to make this background clear so people do not regard me as a “Saya yang menurut perintah” (literally, “I who obey orders” but contextually meaning “obediently yours”, as government letters are usually signed off). I have never been one to just ikut perintah blindly. Not me, not ever.

So when I was appointed to the disciplinary committee, I was surprised to say the least.

So, on to the committee and its workings.

When an accusation is made formally, there is an investigative unit that will examine the case and conduct interviews with the accused and witnesses.

The evidence and interview reports are vetted by the legal unit, which then compiles everything and presents it to a panel comprising three members from the board of governors. Each case file presented is usually between 100 and 200 pages thick.

The disciplinary panel will then sit for the first meeting, which is to determine prima facie, ie, is there enough evidence to support a claim at first glance. If none, the case ends there, but if prima facie is concluded, then we move on to judgment and punishment at the next meeting. In both meetings I remember lively debates and discussions to do justice to the accused. Confidentiality of all cases at all times is of paramount importance.

When the second meeting is completed and the recommended punishments stipulated, there is another meeting for appeal.

That meeting will be chaired at the ministry level and will not involve any member of the disciplinary panel. This is to ensure fairness.

When the appeal is done and the final punishment meted out, there is still strict discretion so as to not embarrass family members of the officer involved.

My takeaway from five years of experience in a civil service disciplinary committee is that the process is thorough, professional, just and, most importantly, protects the dignity of the accused and his or her family.

But here we are, holding demonstrations calling for punishment without due process, just deliberations or solid evidence, without charges, even.

What we go for is the power of numbers – the larger the number of people turning up to demonstrate or viewing a podcast, the surer the guilt.

In “forums” arranged by university students, there are no opposing views, only a single perspective – and, again, without evidence, due diligence of investigations and cross examinations of witnesses and the accused.

In both demonstrations and these so-called forums, the accused – mind you, no one has been charged in court yet so “accused” isn’t being used in its proper sense – is dragged through the mud without a care for his dignity nor that of his loved ones.

How do the sons and daughters of the accused feel? We do not seem to care. How do the parents and spouse of the accused feel? Again, don’t care. We seem to want justice but without evidence much less any semblance of dignity. That, to me, comes close to the definition of mob rule.

I think it is timely to remind us all about what the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) said to people who mocked unbelievers fallen in battle: Mocking the dead will hurt the living members of the families of the fallen.

We must ask ourselves a final question. When the bell tolls for us and our names are dragged in the mud by demonstrators, hecklers and false “forums”, how would we feel? Would we call it justice? Or perhaps we deserve it as karma?

Prof Dr Mohd Tajuddin Mohd Rasdi is Professor of Architecture at the Tan Sri Omar Centre for Science, Technology and Innovation Policy Studies at UCSI University. The views expressed here are entirely the writer’s own.