Rudyard Kipling"
“When you're left wounded on Afganistan's plains and
the women come out to cut up what remains, Just roll to your rifle
and blow out your brains,
And go to your God like a soldier”
General Douglas MacArthur"
“We are not retreating. We are advancing in another direction.”
“It is fatal to enter any war without the will to win it.” “Old soldiers never die; they just fade away.
“The soldier, above all other people, prays for peace, for he must suffer and be the deepest wounds and scars of war.”
“May God have mercy upon my enemies, because I won't .” “The object of war is not to die for your country but to make the other bastard die for his.
“Nobody ever defended, there is only attack and attack and attack some more.
“It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived.
The Soldier stood and faced God
Which must always come to pass
He hoped his shoes were shining
Just as bright as his brass
"Step forward you Soldier,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My Church have you been true?"
"No, Lord, I guess I ain't
Because those of us who carry guns
Can't always be a saint."
I've had to work on Sundays
And at times my talk was tough,
And sometimes I've been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.
But, I never took a penny
That wasn't mine to keep.
Though I worked a lot of overtime
When the bills got just too steep,
The Soldier squared his shoulders and said
And I never passed a cry for help
Though at times I shook with fear,
And sometimes, God forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around
Except to calm their fears.
If you've a place for me here,
Lord, It needn't be so grand,
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't, I'll understand."
There was silence all around the throne
Where the saints had often trod
As the Soldier waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.
"Step forward now, you Soldier,
You've borne your burden well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell."
COMMENT - From camera to courtroom: Ex-press photographer's trial for truth By R Nadeswaran
Tuesday, April 28, 2026
Malaysiakini : So, you film a short clip: not inciting violence, not naming names,
just voicing the frustration of a community abandoned by those meant to
protect it. You post it online, hoping to remind the authorities to keep
the residents updated.
That act of civic desperation turned 54-year-old Shahril Abdul Rani into a criminal - in the eyes of the law.
Acting on a complaint, the MCMC prosecuted him under Section 233 of the Communications and Multimedia Act.
The
section is a legal dragnet. It criminalises sending “obscene, indecent,
false, menacing, or grossly offensive” content with the intent to
annoy, abuse, threaten, or harass. The penalties? Up to RM500,000 in
fines and jail time.
But Shahril is not a hero or a vigilante. He
is a former press photographer who used the only tool he had - a camera
and a social media account - to say what the police would not hear. For
that, he faced the full weight of the state.
In February 2024, the Kajang Sessions Court imposed a fine of RM20,000, a penalty upheld by the High Court last June.
Let that sink in: with the intent to annoy. Not to incite riots. Not to threaten public order. To annoy.
The
law does not distinguish between a malicious troll and a desperate
neighbour. It does not ask whether the police genuinely failed the
public.
It only asks whether someone felt annoyed or harassed by
your words - and whether the content could be labelled “grossly
offensive”.
That phrase, “grossly offensive”, has no fixed
meaning. It means whatever the MCMC or a judge wants it to mean. And in a
country where break-ins go unattended but critical videos draw swift
prosecution, the message is clear: protect institutions, not citizens.
Judges’ ruling
Last
week, the Court of Appeal brought clarity. A three-judge panel led by
Noorin Badaruddin, together with Hayatul Akmal Abdul Aziz and Radzi
Abdul Hamid, unanimously overturned the High Court’s ruling and acquitted Shahril.
Delivering the judgment,
Noorin said that proving intent is a fundamental requirement in
offences involving online communication. She said such intent must be
supported by clear, credible evidence and cannot be inferred merely from
how the content is perceived.
The
panel found that the video in question was produced with the intention
of informing residents about the status of a police report and urging
faster action from the authorities, rather than to insult or provoke.
“The
purpose of the communication was legitimate and cannot be equated with
an intention to annoy or offend,” she said, adding that the context of
the message must be considered as a whole.
“In this case, the
evidence, particularly from the seventh prosecution witness, showed that
the primary purpose of the appellant’s communication was to inform
residents about the progress of a police report and to request that the
investigation be expedited.
“The purpose of the communication was legitimate and cannot be equated with an intent to annoy or offend,” she said.
Rare crack in armour
When break-ins echo unanswered, but a neighbour’s plea is prosecuted, the law itself becomes the crime scene.
Section
233 is not a shield for citizens; it is a gag for dissent. Its elastic
language - “grossly offensive”, “intent to annoy” - is less about
justice than about convenience for those in power.
Shahril’s
acquittal is a rare crack in that armour, a reminder that intent
matters, evidence matters, and legitimacy cannot be criminalised. Yet
the larger truth remains: in Malaysia, it is easier to punish a camera
than to protect a community.
The police can ignore shattered windows, but the state will not ignore a video that shatters its image.
The law does not ask whether citizens are safe; it asks whether officials are annoyed.
It
does not measure the failure of institutions; it measures the
discomfort of those who run them. And in that transposal, justice is not
blind; it becomes blinkered.
Shahril’s case should have been a turning point, a moment to admit that laws written to muzzle trolls are now muzzling citizens.
Instead,
it exposed the deeper rot: a system where “grossly offensive” is
whatever the authorities say it is, and “intent to annoy” is whatever
they feel it to be. That is not law; that is discretion masquerading as
justice.
The acquittal offers hope, but hope tempered by reality.
For every Shahril who fights back, countless others will not risk the
weight of the state. Fear settles in like a second shadow, and silence
becomes the third.
Until institutions learn to protect citizens
rather than themselves, Malaysia will remain a country where crime is
tolerated, but criticism is punished. And that is the real offence - an
offence against the very idea of justice.
