Malaysiakini : The fact of the matter is that PAS is in no position to make claims that non-Malay political operatives are treacherous or seditious to the crown for allegedly defying royal decrees.

PAS’ top leadership and various PAS adjacent groups have defied the royal institutions. This has become even more pronounced of late because Perikatan Nasional senses how weak Madani is.

Keep in mind that in 2022, when the Selangor sultan rebuked then-religious affairs minister Idris Ahmad and asked him to attend the Bon Odori festival “so that he can understand the difference between religion and culture”, what did PAS do?

Its ulama wing backed the religious minister, defying the sultan by saying, “The claim that (Bon Odori) was strictly a cultural event does not have enough merit.”

The quote that opens this piece demonstrates how Hadi believes that when it comes to religion, he knows better than constitutionally mandated instruments of government.

Paying lip service

The royal institution has been weaponised against the non-Malays by the Malay uber alles crowd.

Non-Malays genuflect whenever hot-button issues arise, and the royal institution is dragged into the political arena, normally siding with the very forces that want to have and have weakened its constitutional powers.

Meanwhile, so-called “Malay first” politicians pay lip service to the institutions but rouse the rabble against the institutions when it suits their purposes.

Bersatu president Muhyiddin Yassin said, “I take shelter under the greatness and nobility of the Malay rulers, and my loyalty to the institution of constitutional monarchy should not be questioned,” when questioned by the state security apparatus about insulting the former Yang di-Pertuan Agong.

And believe me, there was nothing lost in translation in the speech he gave, decrying that he was sidelined by the royal institution when he had the necessary votes to be in the driver’s seat of Putrajaya. But all this is not new.

Remember when a former prime minister blamed a certain person for Pakatan Harapan’s pulling out of the International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination (Icerd)?

Who could forget this juicy tidbit from his press statement: “Jadi kita punya keputusan kabinet (our cabinet’s decision) this morning is that we will withdraw our ratification of the Statute of Rome kerana (because of) confusion, bukan kerana (not because) we believe it is going to be bad for us but because of the confusion created by one particular person who wants to be free to beat up people and things like that.

“And if he beats up people again, I will send the police to arrest him, I don’t care who he is.”

Keep in mind that Muhyiddin publicly declared that he rejected the Agong’s suggestion that his coalition form a unity government with Pakatan Harapan:

“Since the beginning, we already discussed that we will not cooperate with Harapan. No matter what the purpose is, we will not agree to it. So when I was asked to sign the offer letter, I signed ‘disagreed’.”

Royalty and political reality

Where was PAS during all of this? This horse manure about defending the royal institution is the kind of political skullduggery that PAS especially excels in.

The party is playing a deeper, sinister game. Theocrats around the world do not share power in the conventional sense. They allow certain legacy institutions to endure so long as those institutions give credibility and legitimacy to the religious party in control.

Keep in mind that religious extremists have always threatened the traditional institutions of power in various Muslim-majority countries.

The legacy institutions of power in this country understand that they are vulnerable to the political and religious malfeasance of religious political parties, which is why these institutions are caught between a rock and a hard place when it comes to their constitutional powers and theocratic impulses.

Sacred cows need to be slain by religious politicians because this will demonstrate not only the superiority of religion but also the faith of religious leaders.

This is not about whether you support the royal institution or not. This is about how these defenders of race and religion, in reality, have no respect for the institutions they claim to champion.

These are the same people who would use the royal institution as a hammer to whack recalcitrant Malays, and whack non-Malays whom they claim are disrespecting the royal institution, the Malays, and Islam.

Has a non-Malay politician ever done any of this to the royal institution? The threat to the royal institution has always come from the Malay uber alles crowd.

Former prime minister Dr Mahathir Mohamad used the royal institution when it suited his purposes, which was to bash the non-Malays, but then decried how giving too much power to the institutions resulted in the degradation of the democratic system and lamented the feudalistic nature of the dynamic in the majoritarian community.

In 2019, he spelt this out clearly, which is ironic because it is in a similar context to what Muhyiddin is fighting against now:

“Are we willing for this to continue? The rakyat is afraid of not serving the rulers, and when the rulers act beyond the Constitution, it is the rakyat who become the victims.

“This is the problem we have now. If we are willing to lose democracy and the parliamentary system, then let’s stop having elections.”

One could make the argument that this is exactly what the Seri Kembangan rep is doing. Upholding the tenets of democracy and the parliamentary system.

Malaysiakini : Lembaga Zakat Selangor, for example, has clearly stated that it has no connection to the investigation. The institution operates under a structured legal framework, with multiple layers of internal and external auditing.

It has reiterated that zakat funds are managed in accordance with established governance systems.

That clarification is important and must be acknowledged. However, it does not fully resolve the wider concern.

The public considers funds given in good faith, for the needy, are not always experienced in technical categories. Whether labelled zakat, donation, or welfare contribution, their expectation remains the same: that the money reaches the poor.

When trust breaks, people don't lose trust in just one small part of it. They start questioning the whole system around it.

Luxury vehicles. Frozen accounts. High-value assets. These are not abstract claims, but are symbols that immediately shape public perception of welfare-linked giving, regardless of technical distinctions.

The damage has already been done, hasn’t it? However, the deeper issue is not this single case, nor any single institution. It is what the case reveals about the wider structure of welfare-linked fundraising and distribution.

Past allegations

Over the years, there have been occasional reports and investigations involving mismanagement within parts of the welfare and zakat-related ecosystem, including cases where allocations were disbursed to ineligible recipients or where administrative weaknesses were identified.

These cases vary in scale and context, but together, they point to a recurring challenge: ensuring consistent transparency across several layers of fund management.

Crucially, this is where the distinction becomes important.

Official zakat institutions, such as state religious authorities, operate within defined legal frameworks, undergo structured audits, and are subject to regulatory oversight.

However, the wider ecosystem of welfare-related fundraising, including NGOs, charitable intermediaries, and mixed donation channels, can be far more complex and less uniformly regulated.

When funds pass through multiple organisations before reaching recipients, each layer possibly operates under different levels of oversight. Without strong and consistent monitoring, transparency may weaken.

This creates a structural reality that is often overlooked.

It is not always about one system failing, but about multiple systems interacting with different levels of transparency and control.

So, when large sums are involved, such as RM230 million, the question naturally arises. How do funds of this scale move through welfare-linked structures without earlier detection or intervention?

This is not simply about wrongdoing. It is about system design.

Not a marginal figure

RM230 million is not a marginal figure. It is an amount that, under normal financial and governance expectations, should trigger multiple safeguards, like bank-level monitoring, organisational audits, regulatory scrutiny, and internal compliance mechanisms.

If gaps exist in that chain, then the concern is not only about misconduct, but about oversight fragmentation.

Zakat itself remains one of the most important instruments of social justice within Muslim communities.

It is a structured obligation designed to redistribute wealth, reduce inequality, and support those in need. When it functions effectively, it is stable, targeted, and quietly transformative.

However, the broader welfare ecosystem in which zakat, NGOs, and public donations co-exist is more complex.

Moreover, complexity without equivalent transparency creates vulnerability, not necessarily by intent, but it does result in oversight failure.

This is why the central issue is not classification. It is governance consistency.

The question is not whether zakat institutions are properly managed in isolation because they have stated frameworks and audit structures. It is about whether the entire ecosystem of welfare-linked giving is equally transparent, traceable, and resilient against misuse at every stage of fund movement.

When the system is fragmented, problems in one part can affect others through public perception and confusion. Once people begin to lose trust across different channels of giving, rebuilding that confidence becomes especially difficult.

This is why reform cannot be reactive or symbolic. It must be structural.

Firstly, transparency must be visible across the entire ecosystem, not just within individual institutions.

Second, fund flows must be traceable from collection to final distribution. Third, intermediary layers must be clearly regulated and audited.

Fourth, oversight must be independent, consistent, and publicly accountable.

Basic safeguards

These are not radical demands. They are basic safeguards for systems built on public trust and moral obligation.

Once trust begins to erode, recovery is slow and often incomplete.

In the meantime, those who are meant to benefit from these systems do not wait for clarification. They wait for assistance.

More importantly, the real question is no longer about one institution or one investigation. It is about whether welfare-linked and zakat-related systems are collectively designed to ensure that every ringgit reaches those it was meant for, without delay, diversion, or doubt.

If the answer is uncertain, then the responsibility is not only to investigate what has happened, but to strengthen the systems so that it cannot happen in fragmented form again.

Accountability is not criticism. It is protection. Thus, protecting zakat and the wider ecosystem of charitable trust is ultimately about protecting the people it exists to serve.

Malaysiakini : Instead, MCMC is busy investigating criticism of MACC chief commissioner Azam Baki. Muda member Luqman Long posted a video containing allegedly “fake news”, though speaking on what is already in the public domain hardly fits that description. Is Azam beyond criticism?

On Tuesday, Communications Minister Fahmi Fadzil ordered MCMC to track down a social media user who reposted a 2019 video clip. According to him, the 109-second recording was deliberately reposted to cause anger.

True, people are angry - reminding the government of its many unfulfilled promises. Should that be an offence?

Last week, Bukit Aman Criminal Investigation Department director M Kumar noted that social media is increasingly used for seditious posts and provocative debates on government policies.

Such trends, he said, could trigger community tension if not curbed. One cannot disagree. However, what are the authorities doing about them? How many more advisories will follow?

Race, religion, and royalty (3R) are closely guarded. Yet while authorities are quick to arrest certain sections of the community, others seem licensed to insult and demean with impunity.

‘Double standards’

I have written before about double standards in enforcement: “This is not inconsistent enforcement; it is selective prosecution dressed in the language of order.”

In March last year, Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim, through his senior press secretary Tunku Nashrul Abaidah, warned of sinister attempts by certain vested interests to create the perception of “double standards” in actions taken against those who insult any religion.

Home Minister Saifuddin Nasution Ismail echoed the stand, reiterating that the police do not use favouritism or double standards in investigating cases related to the 3R.

But four days later, Saifuddin let the cat out of the bag.

He said that if Putrajaya strictly enforced 3R laws, “leaders from PAS would make up most of those implicated.”

As he told Sinar Harian: “If I or the police enforced the Penal Code, the CMA or other laws, they would be among the most frequently penalised.”

So, was he confirming that PAS members are treated with velvet gloves? Is this why no action is taken against provocative 3R statements while others are arrested, charged, and sentenced within days?

Law as political sword

Selective prosecution is not a flaw in Malaysia’s enforcement regime - it is the regime itself. The law is wielded not as a neutral instrument of justice but as a political sword, cutting opponents while shielding certain people.

When racist vitriol and religious incitement are tolerated, yet criticism of governance is swiftly punished, the hypocrisy is laid bare.

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ALSO READ: Rising racial and religious rhetoric in Parliament, report finds

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Saifuddin’s candid admission that strict enforcement would implicate PAS leaders is not just a slip of the tongue; it is a confession of complicity.

This is why the public grows weary of “advisories” and “reminders” that never translate into equal application of the law.

Each silence in the face of racist abuse, each velvet-gloved treatment of political allies, and each heavy-handed prosecution of dissenters erodes trust in institutions.

The government insists there are no double standards, yet its own ministers concede otherwise. This contradiction is not a perception problem; it is a credibility crisis.

Malaysia cannot claim to be building a “Madani” society while tolerating selective justice. A nation that prosecutes criticism but excuses provocation is not protecting harmony; it is protecting power.

Until the law is applied evenly, without fear or favour, every promise of reform will remain hollow, every advisory will sound like theatre, and every silence from the authorities will echo as complicity.

The real scandal is not that selective prosecution exists - it is that leaders admit it, defend it, and expect us to accept it as normal.

Malaysiakini : Yet such reasoning, while superficially defensible, collapses under careful scrutiny when weighed against the imperatives of historical scholarship and the public’s right to understand its own past in all its complexity.

At the centre of this controversy stands Shamsiah Fakeh (1924-2008), a figure who occupies a contested yet undeniably significant place in Malayan history.

She was a prominent leader of Angkatan Wanita Sedar (Awas), established in 1946 as the women’s wing of Parti Kebangsaan Melayu Malaya or the Malay Nationalist Party (MNP).

Awas is widely recognised in scholarly literature as the first organised nationalist women’s movement in Malaya, and Shamsiah’s leadership within it marks her as a pioneer of women’s political mobilisation.

At a time when Malay women were largely confined to traditional roles, she mobilised them to participate actively in the struggle for the nation’s independence.

Jungle or jail

The declaration of the Malayan Emergency nationwide on June 18, 1948, followed by the banning of MNP, Awas, and related organisations, dramatically altered the trajectory of nationalist politics in Malaya.

Faced with the prospect of detention without trial, many left-wing Malay nationalists were forced underground.

As Helen Ting, a respected academic and public intellectual, aptly observes, Shamsiah “was confronted with the dilemma faced by many other left-wing leaders: either retreat into the jungle or, like thousands of others, be detained without trial at the pleasure of the colonial power”.

It was within this context - not in a vacuum of ideological fanaticism - that Shamsiah chose to continue her struggle for Malaya’s independence by joining the Malayan Communist Party (MCP).

This decision must be situated within its historical context. As Cheah Boon Kheng notes in “Red Star Over Malaya: Resistance and Social Conflict During and After the Japanese Occupation of Malaya, 1941-46”, the MCP during this period attracted individuals motivated less by doctrinaire communism than by a shared commitment to ending colonial rule.

Many left-wing Malay nationalists saw communism not as an end in itself but as a vehicle for independence and social transformation. To reduce their struggle to mere ideological subversion is to flatten the rich and complex motivations that drove anti-colonial resistance.

Within the MCP’s armed wing, the Malayan National Liberation Army (MNLA), Shamsiah rose to prominence in the 10th Regiment, the Malay guerrilla unit formed on May 21, 1949.

The 10th Regiment was not a marginal formation. Scholarly estimates suggest that it comprised several hundred members, drawn largely from Malay communities in states such as Pahang, Perak, Kelantan, and Terengganu.

Many Malays from Pahang, including Siti Norkiah, the Awas leader from Benta, joined the MCP in 1948. Others, such as Pak Saud and his wife Mak Tijah from Arau, Perlis, also became part of this movement.

Their participation decisively challenges the simplistic narrative that communism in Malaya was an exclusively Chinese phenomenon.

Staunch feminist

Shamsiah’s own motivations were deeply personal as well as political. As Mahani Musa notes in her article “Women in the Malayan Communist Party, 1942-89” (2013), Shamsiah was driven to join the nationalist struggle “by her own marital breakup and wish to free women from the bondage of feudalism, capitalism, imperialism, and masculine oppression”.

Divorced when she was eight months pregnant, she transformed personal adversity into political commitment.

Her own words in her memoir capture this dual struggle with remarkable clarity: “Aku hanya seorang pejuang wanita yang berjuang melawan British untuk kemerdekaan tanah air dan untuk emansipasi (kebebasan) wanita.” (I am only a woman fighter who fought against the British for the independence of the homeland and for the emancipation [freedom] of women).

This statement is not the voice of an ideologue, but of a nationalist and a feminist - one who saw independence as inseparable from the emancipation of women.

In 1991, the Malay magazine Dewan Masyarakat published a seven-part series of articles on Shamsiah written by Fatini Yaacob, reflecting sustained scholarly and public interest in her life.

Such engagement underscores an important point: Shamsiah is not an obscure or marginal figure, but one whose life story opens a window into the broader currents of Malayan history - anti-colonial struggle, ideological contestation, and the role of women in nation-building.

Who are we to judge?

To label her simply as a “communist insurgent” is therefore historically reductive and morally questionable.

Who are we to judge and condemn her without understanding the circumstances that shaped her choices? Was she not, in many respects, a freedom fighter who was compelled by circumstance to adopt a radical path in pursuit of national independence?

She was, arguably, a “victim of circumstances”, joining the MCP to avoid detention and to continue her struggle when all legal avenues had been closed.

Indeed, according to Aisyah AB Rahim in her Master’s thesis (2012), entitled “Shamsiah Fakeh (1924-2008): Kajian Terhadap Perjuangan Wanita Islam di Tanah Melayu”, Shamsiah was “seorang nasionalis sejati dan anti-British yang tegar” (a true nationalist and a staunch anti-British figure).

More fundamentally, her life challenges the dominant narrative that independence was achieved solely through moderate, elite-led politics.

While constitutional negotiations and diplomatic efforts were undoubtedly crucial, armed struggle, labour movements, and left-wing activism also played significant roles in weakening colonial rule and shaping the political consciousness of the masses.

To erase these contributions is to present a sanitised and incomplete version of history.

Propaganda is not knowledge

This brings us to the crux of the matter: the banning of these books is not merely an administrative act, but an assault on historical inquiry. There are several compelling reasons why such a ban is unjustified.

First, historical scholarship cannot be equated with ideological endorsement. The study of communism in Malaya does not promote communism any more than the study of colonialism endorses imperialism.

Academic and memoir works such as “Memoir Shamsiah Fakeh” are essential for understanding the past in its full complexity. To suppress them is to conflate knowledge with propaganda.

Second, the ban undermines intellectual freedom and the right of Malaysians to access diverse perspectives on their own history.

A mature nation does not fear its past; it confronts it, debates it, and learns from it. Shielding the public from “uncomfortable truths” only perpetuates ignorance and weakens critical thinking.

Third, the prohibition distorts the historical record. Hundreds of Malays did, in fact, join the communist insurgency.

This is not a matter of opinion but of documented history; to deny or obscure this reality is to falsify the past. A nation that selectively remembers its history risks building its identity on fragile foundations.

Fourth, the ban marginalises the contributions of left-wing nationalists who, despite their ideological affiliations, were part of the broader struggle for independence. Their sacrifices, motivations, and aspirations deserve to be studied and understood, not erased.

As Pierre Le Moyne, a 17th-century historical theorist, reminds us, “Truth is the very soul of history.” Hence, we must not marginalise the contributions of the left-wing nationalists and the communists in the struggle for national independence.

Where’s the line?

Finally, the banning of these works sets a troubling precedent. If historical narratives can be suppressed on the grounds of ideological sensitivity, where does one draw the line?

Today, it may be communism; tomorrow, it could be any interpretation that challenges the official narrative, such as that the Orang Asli are the truly indigenous people of Peninsular Malaysia or that Parameswara died a Hindu-Buddhist.

Such a trajectory is incompatible with a democratic and intellectually vibrant society.

Shamsiah’s importance lies not only in what she did, but in what her story reveals.

It reveals a Malaya in flux, where competing visions of independence coexisted and clashed. It reveals the agency of women in a patriarchal society. It reveals the moral ambiguities and difficult choices faced by those who lived under colonial rule.

Above all, it reveals that Malaysian history is far richer, more contested, and more inclusive than conventional narratives often suggest.

To understand Shamsiah is to understand that history is not a monolithic tale of heroes and villains, but a tapestry of human experiences shaped by context, conviction, and circumstance.

She was a nationalist, a freedom fighter, and a champion of women’s emancipation - albeit one who chose a path that remains controversial. But controversy is not a reason for erasure; it is a reason for deeper engagement.

As a nation, we must have the courage to accept history as it happened. This includes acknowledging that segments of the Malay population participated in the communist insurgency, not out of blind ideological zeal, but out of a desire to end colonial domination and transform society.

It also means recognising that the road to independence was neither linear nor uniform, but marked by multiple trajectories and competing visions.

In the final analysis, the banning of “Memoir Shamsiah Fakeh” and “Komrad Asi (Rejimen 10)” does a disservice not only to the individuals concerned but also to Malaysia itself.

It deprives Malaysians of the opportunity to engage critically with their past and to appreciate the diversity of experiences that have shaped the nation.

History must never be something we fear - it must be something we confront with honesty and courage.

It should be rigorously studied, openly debated, and deeply understood in all its complexity. For it is only when history is told truthfully and inclusively that it can fulfil its highest purpose: to unite a nation.

Malaysiakini : And this is what the state wants. People have to understand that laws like the Sedition Act are capricious by design.

American journalist and author Christopher Hitchens said it best - “The essence of tyranny is not iron law. It is capricious law.”

Who’s next?

The state wants to shroud this incident in secrecy because when people speculate, they do it out of fear, with the central preoccupation being who is next.

These laws are enacted to muzzle the public, but more importantly, are vital tools in the “fear box” to remind the public that whatever they say or do against the state is always under scrutiny, and nobody really knows what is verboten.

You can never tell what you say or do is seditious or illegal because these laws are there for the convenience of the ruling elite, rather than any kind of traditional normative values or reasoning of a functional democracy.

People have said far worse and got away with it. Indeed, even when the state cracked down on them, it was met with bravado and the knowledge that their speech was enabled and thus, their sanctioning inconsequential.

From reportage, police Criminal Investigation Department director M Kumar said that social media has become a hotspot “… to spread seditious posts or comments, as well as provocative debates regarding government policies and current issues.”

Which is a bizarre statement to make, considering that every day, people post all sorts of comments and provocations about the government, each other, and the state of the world.

Singled out

No, what we are dealing with is the fact that the Madani state has chosen to take action against this particular social media user.

The fact is that the Madani state has not given the rakyat a reason why her comments were sanction-worthy, but more importantly, the state is fuelling an atmosphere where people are speculating about what exactly was wrong about this housewife’s speech, with many never having seen her TikTok videos.

Referencing Section 3(1)(a) of the Sedition Act, Kumar said, as reported in the press, “… a ‘seditious tendency’ as a tendency to bring into hatred or contempt, or to excite disaffection against any ruler or government.”

Keep in mind how successive regimes have defined the tendency and harm to the community.

In 2014, Perkasa president Ibrahim Ali’s threats to burn Bibles were not sanctioned by the state  because, in the words of the attorney-general, “This is not a sentiment or intention to cause religious disharmony, but this is defending the sanctity of Islam that is clearly defined in laws.”

Indeed, the Attorney-General’s Chambers, when touching on the Bible-burning issue, said, as reported by The Edge - “As decided by the court, before a statement is said to have seditious tendencies, the statement must be viewed in the context it was made... When studied in its entire context, Ibrahim’s statement is not categorised as having seditious tendencies.”

“It was clear Ibrahim had no intention to create religious tensions but was only defending the purity of Islam.”

So rational Malaysians have to ask, what exactly was seditious about the speech of this housewife? How exactly is criticising the prime minister by a housewife rising to the level of sedition?

Just a few years ago, Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim said, “Criticism against the prime minister or leaders is necessary, and leaders should not be alarmed or have fear (of media criticising them).

“I am saying this now because I am confident with what we are doing, and I am ready to fight with facts. And if indeed there are shortcomings on our side, then we are ready to apologise and make the necessary changes.

So what happened to being ready to fight with facts and confidence about what Madani is doing?

Harapan’s lie

Going after minorities for causing disruptions within mainstream politics is normal, but what the state fears is when folks from the majority community cause disruptions.

Under Pakatan Harapan, a women’s march was investigated under sedition laws, then there was the independent preacher Wan Ji Wan Hussin, and of course, who could forget the persecution of activist Fadiah Nadwa Fikri.

The Harapan state was also considering laws that would make news portals responsible for readers’ comments, which would take stifling freedom of speech to a whole new level.

Syahredzan Johan, who is now a political operative in Madani, said in 2015: “We are saying that we have certain principles that we adhere to as a democracy. Freedom of speech and expression is part of our DNA, so we hold on to these values.

“If we don’t say something because we are afraid they will come after us, then we are saying that these values are not that important to us.

“Do we want to be the kind of society that allows the authorities to do as they please because we fear getting into trouble?”

Jorjet learned the hard way that this is not true.

Malaysiakini : The alleged arrest of a TikToker under the Sedition Act, reportedly for criticising Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim, is troubling not just for what may have happened, but for what followed. Silence.

When authorities refuse to confirm or deny widely reported actions, it ceases to be procedure and becomes power - who controls information, and who decides what the public is allowed to question.

This is the irony and the sad fact of our leaders today. Many of them rose by opposing such opacity. They spoke of reform, defended dissent, and championed the rakyat’s right to criticise.

Yet once in power, criticism appears less like a democratic necessity and more like an inconvenience.

Was the commitment to free speech always conditional? If criticism is only acceptable when convenient, it is not a principle; it is a tactic, but we all know that tactics have an expiry date.

When the openness which was previously exhibited disappears, people will begin to notice the inconsistency. The electorate knows the tactic is no longer believable, the rakyat sees the contradiction, and trust starts to erode.

Take a page from others

However, not all leaders react this way, and there is much that our leaders can learn from the heads of other nations.

New Zealand’s then-prime minister, Jacinda Ardern, faced intense public criticism during COVID-19, yet responded with transparency and policy adjustments rather than suppression.

She was criticised relentlessly, over lockdowns, mandates, and economic costs, but under her leadership, criticism was not treated as a crime, but as a consequence of governing. The response was not silence, but explanation; not suppression, but adjustment.

Even within a controlled and tightly managed system like Singapore, there is still some responsiveness to criticism.

Singapore’s former prime minister, Lee Hsien Loong, may not have embraced criticism in the same open way as Ardern, but he acted with more subtlety by acknowledging policy pressures and recalibrating where necessary.

In major speeches and especially on National Day Rallies, he would openly address issues people were unhappy about, like rising HDB prices, migrant workers, rising living costs, and inequality.

The key point is that the issue was neither silenced nor denied, but there would be a response to the criticism and a possible policy recalibration.

Former United States president Barack Obama governed amid relentless criticism, but in the US, under him, criticism was not suppressed but institutionalised, and channelled through a free press, legislative scrutiny, and judicial review.

Democracy depends on criticism

The contrast is clear: criticism, when engaged with, strengthens legitimacy. When suppressed, it erodes it.

A functioning democracy does not merely tolerate criticism; it depends on it. It is a stress test of leadership, not an attack on it. Without it, governance becomes performance, and power becomes theatre.

Naturally, criticism can be crude, emotional, even unfair, especially in the age of social media, but the true test of leadership is not how it handles polite dissent. It is how it responds to the loud, messy, inconvenient kind.

Knowingly, democracy was never meant to be tidy.

There is, however, a familiar double standard. In the opposition, criticism is framed as accountability. In the government, the same criticism becomes “destabilising”.

Laws once condemned as repressive are repurposed as necessary. The Sedition Act does not change; only those wielding it do.

And here lies the uncomfortable truth: power changes perception. Criticism feels personal. Dissent looks like disloyalty. The line between protecting the state and protecting one’s image begins to blur.

A leader who cannot tolerate criticism is not strong, as he’s only shielded.

The price of silencing dissent

There seems to be an unwritten political rulebook whereby, when in the opposition, “The people must be heard.” Then the transition to being the rulers means that in government, “The people must be… managed.”

Some politicians tend to treat criticism like gym memberships, enthusiastically signing up when in the opposition, but quietly neglecting the gym when in power. Unlike a missed workout, the cost is not personal. It is public.

Will the Madani administration appreciate that criticism is not the enemy of governance? It is its safeguard. It is the early warning system that tells us when power drifts and promises fade.

Therefore, suppressing criticism is not just silencing dissent; it is weakening democracy itself, and that is a price no government can afford.

Why has there been no clear confirmation about what happened to “Jorjet Myla”?

Victims have also said that they were forced to participate in Islamic practices, including offering namaz, observing Ramadan fasts, and wearing a burqa. The male complainant described that he was repeatedly humiliated for his Hindu faith and pressured to abandon his religious identity. Victims were reportedly also forced to consume beef. Force-feeding beef to Hindus is one of the favorite tactics of jihadists across India, as it breaks the Hindus psychologically and emotionally, because consuming beef is against the Hindu religious ideology.

The investigation gained momentum after a covert operation conducted by Nashik Police, in which seven female officers entered TCS’s premises disguised as employees. During an internal meeting, they reportedly witnessed inappropriate conduct firsthand, leading to one of the accused being caught in the act. This operation provided critical corroboration of the victims’ testimonies, and resulted in multiple arrests. Authorities are now analyzing over 40 CCTV footage clips from inside the office to strengthen the case.

Police have invoked stringent provisions of the Maharashtra Control of Organized Crime Act (MCOCA), pointing to the seriousness and organized nature of the offenses. Leading the probe is a Special Investigation Team under ACP (Crime) Sandeep Mitke, following directives from Police Commissioner Sandeep Karnik, who supervised the operation based on intelligence information.

A particularly alarming dimension of the case is the alleged failure and possible complicity of the company’s HR department. According to police officials, when one victim reported sexual harassment, HR reportedly advised her to “stay cool,” with her concerns dismissed as routine behavior in multinational workplaces. Such responses may have emboldened the accused and allowed the misconduct to continue unchecked. There are also allegations that a female HR Manager, Nida Khan, may have actively assisted the accused. She has since been arrested.

Maharashtra minister Nitesh Rane publicly termed the incident “corporate jihad,” arguing that if coercive religious conversion and harassment had entered corporate spaces, it would be dealt with strictly under the law. He also questioned the company’s internal response and called for accountability, especially given the fact that multiple women had reportedly complained without timely action.

So far, nine First Information Reports have been registered at Mumbai Naka Police Station, encompassing charges of sexual exploitation, mental harassment, and hurting religious sentiments. Authorities have also circulated a WhatsApp helpline encouraging additional victims to come forward, and officials have indicated that more complaints are likely while the investigation progresses. Maharashtra Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis has condemned the incidents and assured strict action against those found guilty.

The revelations have triggered protests outside the TCS Nashik office, with demonstrators demanding swift justice and accountability. While TCS has been named openly and investigations are underway, it is not the only organization in the Indian corporate landscape facing serious questions. The work culture in India’s private sector is often sinfully toxic. Call center agents, for instance, struggle to get even a two-minute washroom break. Sick leave and casual leave are difficult to secure, even in pressing situations. Employees are routinely pushed to work 10 to 12 hours a day, even though the standard shift is 9 hours. But the stringencies apply only to regular staff.

Muslim employees, on the other hand, are often given leeway to perform multiple prayers during office hours. In fact, several workers allege that meetings are frequently rescheduled to allow for these prayer breaks. Business priorities and urgency can easily take a backseat. Many large corporations have even set up designated prayer areas. During Ramadan, many large multinationals organize free iftar meals for Muslim employees, while no comparable arrangements are made during festivals of non-Muslim communities.

Malaysiakini : More issues to tackle

Flashback to the pre-launch of the Selangor Intelligent Parking (SIP) system in June last year: Selangor executive councillor Ng Suee Lim outlined the terms - the concession company was expected to invest RM200 million to develop the system’s infrastructure, including the installation of about 1,800 CCTV cameras at parking lots.

Ratepayers in Selayang, Shah Alam, Subang Jaya City Council (MBSJ), and Shah Alam who were dragged into the state vs local council imbroglio nine months ago have even more issues that have to be addressed now.

Is the RM200 million “investment” for real or just a sweetener to appease the protests and objections from the people and the lawmakers?

Ng said the move is part of the state government’s efforts to boost parking revenue, which currently amounts to only about 30 percent collection from 1,000 designated bays.

“We target a collection rate of over 60 percent and hope to reduce double parking in busy areas,” Ng said.

“The concessionaire will handle both fee collection and enforcement, under close supervision from the councils and state government.

For good measure, Ng threw in this: “It is important to note that the local councils will not bear any operational costs and are expected to collect more revenue than before due to system efficiency improvements, digitalisation, and centralised monitoring.”

But the concessionaire does not have enforcement power nor legal authority, and any document related to public parking must be in the name of the councils.

Cameras nowhere to be seen

In a previous article, I wrote: “Does MBI Selangor, a state-owned company, have the power to appoint contractors or concessionaires? Does the private company have the power to enforce parking regulations, even if it is under the supervision of council staff? Can they legally issue a summons for non-payment of parking fees?

“It is akin to saying that the power to stop, search, and arrest can be delegated to security guards under the supervision of the police!”

Motorists in these four areas continue to use the Selangor Smart Parking app, developed earlier by the state, while summonses, parking tickets, and related enforcement documents are still issued directly by council staff.

How do I know this? Over the past two weeks, I visited these four areas and uncovered even more - the much-touted CCTVs are nowhere to be seen, not even the pillars or posts where the cameras were supposed to stand.

To put in colloquial Malay, it’s “habuk pun tak ada!” (absolutely nothing, zero, not a single thing.)

Bleeding revenue

Nine months after the four councils had hurriedly (more reluctantly) signed the contracts, there seems to be disappointment, but those affected, including some councillors, have sealed their lips, fearing not being re-appointed.

So, where is the value-added service, which comes at a huge cost or, in the case of the councils, a huge loss of revenue?

This is not a parking policy - it is a masterclass in political accounting. The RM200 million “investment” is waved like a magic wand, yet the arithmetic shows councils bleeding revenue while concessionaires fatten their margins.

The promised infrastructure remains invisible, enforcement powers remain muddled, and the public is left wondering whether “smart” parking is just another euphemism for dumb governance.

The deeper rot lies in the governance model itself. Councils are stripped of autonomy, ratepayers are treated as captive wallets, and the state government positions itself as visionary while outsourcing accountability.

What was sold as efficiency is in fact denseness - a financial model where losses are trivialised, and profits privatised.

It is the bureaucratic sleight of hand that turns public accountability into private gain, dressing up opacity as innovation.

The councils are told they will “collect more revenue,” but the arithmetic shows otherwise: they are reduced to junior partners in their own jurisdictions, while concessionaires enjoy guaranteed returns.

This is not efficiency. It is a distortion. Losses to councils are brushed aside as inconsequential, borne silently by ratepayers, while profits are ring-fenced for private actors under the banner of “smart governance.”

Dense, opaque model

In reality, the model is neither smart nor efficient - it is dense, opaque, and structurally tilted against public interest.

Until Selangor can demonstrate tangible infrastructure, transparent accounts, and genuine accountability, the SIP scheme remains a cautionary tale: a system where efficiency is weaponised as rhetoric, denseness is institutionalised as policy, and the public is left subsidising illusions.

This experiment risks becoming a parable of modern Malaysian governance - where slogans of digitalisation and innovation mask the same old patronage politics.

The question is not whether more revenue will be collected, but whether the people will ever see it, or whether it will vanish into the black box of concessionaire contracts.

Until the state can show tangible results - cameras installed, enforcement clarified, transparent accounts published - this remains less a “smart” system than a costly illusion.

And illusions, unlike parking bays, cannot be monetised forever.

Malaysiakini : Propping up Anwar

Also, keep in mind that Rafizi has done his fair share of propping up Anwar and PKR.

Back in the rancid days of the PKR elections, which he lost, Rafizi had to remind his opponent, Nurul Izzah Anwar, not to revise history when she denied or downplayed his involvement in the 2018 electoral seat negotiations with the old maverick, Dr Mahathir Mohamad, with Rafizi voluntarily taking on the role as “bad guy”.

Anwar is a special case. We have all carried water for Anwar, including this writer, and his failure to reform the system has splashed back on us in a big way.

Rafizi has made it clear that he really doesn’t need all the aggravation that comes with politics, unlike his one-time comrade.

I mean, four years ago, when PKR was out in the cold, Rafizi was warning folks not to be bootlickers when it came to Anwar.

Fast forward a few years, and nobody really paid attention to Rafizi, and when he said those words, he was Anwar’s right hand.

Rafizi said that he wants PKR to sack him because under the party’s constitution, a sacked member retains his seat, while a member who resigns would have their seat vacated.

Pointing out the emperor has no clothes

Here is the thing, though. I have no idea what purpose it serves for Rafizi to remain an MP since Madani has the support it needs from the so-called “progressive wing” - DAP - of the coalition.

Truth be told, I was shocked when people who support progressive politics emailed me with long diatribes of how Rafizi is rocking the boat.

As someone who has no problem rocking the boat, I assumed that folks would be happy when Rafizi points out that the emperor has no clothes.

It says a lot about the progressive forces in this country that Rafizi does not get the support he needs from the progressive wing of Madani.

In fact, the narrative that he is a political operative peddling his sour grapes overrides whatever he says about reform and the failures of the audacity-of-hope type of politics.

When Rafizi was on the campaign stump for the PKR elections, he exposed all sorts of chicanery, which put PKR in the light it deserved.

From claiming the fix is in when it comes to this election for the second-highest post, from the various snubbings of party pow-wows to claiming bots are used, much like Umno does to amplify messaging on social media.

Where does Rafizi stand?

Rafizi was all over the place in painting why the rakyat should not vote for PKR.

He was right to draw attention to personality politics, but his big ideas depend on the political support from his party and comrades, which has changed with the ascension of Madani.

You need a strong personality to do that, especially since you have a generation of young leaders who want to “inherit” from their elders instead of taking over and establishing a political agenda of their own.

Rafizi’s supporters have told me that by sticking with his MP gig, he can continue to build on the momentum he created, and this would be a tactical advantage when defending his seat. He needs to be the rakyat’s eyes and ears, they tell me.

In his posting about his return to active political life, Rafizi made it clear he wants to stake out the multiethnic middle ground.

What this means remains to be seen, especially since the various parties in Madani adhere to the old Umno/BN formula, which Harapan (especially the DAP) always downplays with the Bangsa Malaysia kool-aid.

The fact is that what Rafizi offers obviously does not resonate with PKR’s grassroots, and this says more about what the party has become rather than his ideas, which, for the most part, are utilitarian in nature and would benefit the bumiputera community.

Rafizi talks about a culture of luxury seeping into PKR. He talks about how new members are only there for the positions and perks.

The way Rafizi paints it, who needs Umno when there is PKR? 

Folks these days are struggling with issues, and they have very little time for the internal politics of PKR. Anwar knows this, and he is correct in focusing on the economic storm coming our way.

All this makes the drama that Rafizi is creating seem self-serving, which is what the narratives of Madani and their cyber warriors are peddling.

Rafizi claims that moves are being made in his Pandan seat to oust him from the halls of Putrajaya.

As he said, “We can’t really be surprised if they go ahead and do it anyway, even though there shouldn’t be a by-election - I mean, this is the Madani era.”

This is why he should roll the dice and quit PKR instead of being forced out in some underhanded manner, which would go unnoticed because Malaysians mudah lupa.

The only reckoning or repudiation Madani will understand is if Rafizi wins as an independent.

Malaysiakini : Not deliberately. I no longer drive. When my wife drives up to fill the tank, I go to the counter, hand over my identification card and cash - prepaid, as required - and we pump.

For convenience and depending on who is carrying the MyKad, I sometimes use my wife’s. The kiosk operator, where I have been a customer for over 30 years, has never objected.

Why would he? To him, and to me, it’s a simple family transaction. One spouse helping another. That’s not fraud. That is called marriage.

No IC, no subsidised fuel

Then on Monday, I was told I am an offender. The National Registration Department (NRD) says using another person’s MyKad - even a family member’s - to buy subsidised fuel is prohibited.

NRD director-general Badrul Hisham Alias cited Regulation 25 of the National Registration Regulations 1990 - using or possessing another person’s identity card is an offence.

Come again? Can’t I use my IC to buy petrol for my wife’s car? Can’t I use her IC to buy petrol for her car?

“All counter transactions, including the purchase of fuel, must be conducted personally by the actual MyKad owner,” Badrul said. (This one-line addition makes a lot of difference!)

Let that sink in. Under this interpretation, if your wife is sick, or tired, or waiting in the car with a sleeping child, you cannot simply walk into a petrol station and use your wife’s IC to fill up the family car.

You must drag her to the counter. Every single time. The law, apparently, does not recognise the concept of “helping your spouse”.

This is not about subsidy leakage. This is not about syndicates smuggling or surreptitiously buying subsidised fuel. This is about a bureaucrat applying a regulation so literally that it becomes absurd.

So, I must conclude: the law is an ass.

Before anyone accuses me of name-calling, let me explain. In Charles Dickens’ “Oliver Twist”, Mr Bumble is told that “the law supposes that your wife acts under your direction.”

He replies: “If the law supposes that, the law is an ass - an idiot.”

I am not calling the Lord Master of our births, deaths, and citizenship an idiot. That would be rude. This is a figure of speech. But I am saying that any law which criminalises a husband buying petrol for his wife’s car has lost sight of its purpose.

The purpose of the subsidy rule is to prevent abuse by non-eligible foreigners or commercial misusers. Not to police family kindness.

The enforcement problem

And this brings me to a deeper point. When a law is so widely ignored that most people do not even know it exists, the problem is not the people. The problem is the law. Or the way it is being enforced. Or, in this case, the person doing the enforcing.

Let’s talk about Badrul. Isn’t this the same man who signed a false statutory declaration attesting that he had issued birth certificates based on “secondary evidence” to seven foreigners born a century ago?

Wasn’t his bluff called by the International Federation of Association Football (Fifa), which produced original birth documents contradicting Malaysia’s allegedly doctored submissions?

Didn’t he issue MyKads and citizenship certificates to seven foreign footballers who couldn’t even speak Bahasa Malaysia - a prerequisite for citizenship?

Let me repeat that. A prerequisite for citizenship.

And yet, somehow, these players passed. Somehow, the NRD verified their Malaysian heritage. And when questioned, Badrul promised to answer after a conclusive report.

That report has been out for two months. Where is his answer? Silence.

So here is the irony. The same man who cannot explain how seven foreign footballers obtained Malaysian identity documents is now lecturing ordinary Malaysians about the proper use of a MyKad.

The same man who signed a questionable statutory declaration wants to quote Regulation 25 as if it were holy scripture.

You cannot have it both ways. Either the law is a precise instrument, in which case, explain the footballers. Or the law has some flexibility - in which case, show some compassion to a husband buying petrol for his wife.

Most Malaysians understand the difference between real abuse and everyday life. We know syndicates are using foreign nationals to drain subsidised fuel. We support action against them.

But going after a senior citizen using his wife’s IC at the neighbourhood station? That is not enforcement. That is harassment dressed up as diligence.

What the NRD chief is doing here is selective outrage. He picks an obscure clause, ignores decades of common practice, and threatens legal action against people who have never intended any harm.

Meanwhile, questions about his own department’s integrity go unanswered.

If the law supposes that a husband cannot help his wife buy petrol, Mr Bumble was right the first time.

And if the law supposes that the man who signed off on dubious citizenships gets to lecture the rest of us on proper documentation, then the law is not just an ass. It is a hypocrite.

Malaysiakini : Here are a few “confusing” incidents that have accumulated over the years:

• A cross outside a church was removed because it might “confuse Malay youths”.

• Malay-language Bibles, used by indigenous Christians in Sabah and Sarawak for generations, have been seized or restricted.

• The word “Allah”, a centuries-old term in Malay Christian worship, has been banned in publications.

• Greetings, like “Merry Christmas” or acknowledging Valentine’s Day, have been flagged as potentially confusing.

• Food and dress are not exempt: hot dogs, or root beer, gymnastic leotards or one-piece swimsuits have been treated as potential dangers.

• I also learned from a friend that a school Parent-Teacher Association dinner at a halal Chinese restaurant was criticised because some Malay parents feared that the waiters’ hands might have touched pork at home.

Why are the names of some foods, words, symbols, and even a simple dinner, treated as dangerous? In every instance, there has been no evidence of mass confusion, conversion, or social collapse.

The Malay population is being infantilised, treated as if incapable of understanding nuance, reasoning responsibly, or distinguishing harmless cultural gestures from religious threats.

Control mechanisms

Let us be blunt: this is not about faith or protection. This is about control.

Control over language. Control over religious symbols. Control over what Malays can see, say, or do in public spaces. Control over interaction with other communities. Ultimately, control over political power.

The majority Malay-Muslim population forms the political bedrock of the ruling elite. Any loosening of boundaries, however benign, is perceived as a threat to this structure.

By repeatedly framing Malays as fragile or easily misled, authorities justify constant oversight. They cast themselves as guardians of morality, while treating ordinary citizens like children who cannot be trusted. This is systematic patronisation disguised as care.

The long-term consequences of these control mechanisms are profound. Children risk growing up in a world where every word, gesture, and meal is scrutinised. This will internalise fear and rigidity.

They will become adults who see difference as dangerous, who distrust those outside their immediate community, and who accept extreme restrictions as normal. Today’s “protection from confusion” is tomorrow’s ultra-conservative, intolerant society.

Islam, like most major faiths, emphasises reason, personal responsibility, and trust in human capacity. However, this system treats Malays as incapable of discernment or judgment. It replaces trust with control and faith with fear, and this cannot be right.

The real problem

The irony is clear. Authorities encourage Bahasa Malaysia as the national language, yet when Malay-speaking Christians, like the Ibans, use it in worship, they are “confusing”.

They insist on strict halal observance and monitoring of meals, yet a simple gesture of hospitality is treated as a potential threat.

They claim to protect faith, but the real aim is to keep people in line, maintain social predictability, and protect political dominance.

True unity, tolerance, and understanding cannot be achieved through fear, restriction, or moral policing. They are nurtured when people are trusted to engage, reason, and coexist. If a shared meal, a word, a cross, or a greeting can “confuse” Malays, the problem is not the interaction itself.

The real problem lies in the persistent, patronising mindset of control that refuses to treat citizens as capable, informed adults.

As a child, my experience was that inter-ethnic life in schools was more organic. At break time, Malay, Chinese, Indian, and Eurasian students often shared food. There was a simple understanding of boundaries; pork was not offered to Muslim classmates, and beef was not shared with Hindu friends. Interaction was open and natural.

That environment required little regulation, and as children, we learned through everyday experience how to balance differences with respect. The resulting generation grew up broadly tolerant, adaptable, and comfortable with diversity.

Social cohesion

Today, those interactions that were once handled naturally through social understanding are increasingly subject to scrutiny and official control. What was once built through trust is now often conditioned by rules and oversight.

The issue is not whether sensitivities should be respected, because they always were, but whether replacing everyday trust with increasing control strengthens cohesion or slowly erodes it.

Malaysia cannot hope for genuine social cohesion while its leaders treat its majority population like children to be supervised at every step. The real danger is not cultural interaction, but a religious nanny state that masks power and control as concern and protection.

Until we confront this truth, walls will continue to rise, suspicion will deepen, and the very unity that authorities claim to protect will remain elusive.

Downtown Dubai – Dubai – United Arab Emirates by Xiaotong Gao, Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0

When the United States and Israel launched their coordinated assault on Iran in the early hours of February 28, 2026, an operation Washington has named “Operation Epic Fury”, the Gulf states did not cheer. They watched with dread.

That is not quite true. We know that behind the scenes, the Saudi crown prince had for months been urging President Trump to attack Iran. He must have watched not with dread as American and Israel launched their initial attack, but with quiet satisfaction.

For years, they had invested enormous diplomatic capital in preventing precisely this moment. They had engaged Tehran, maintained embassies, and offered repeated assurances that their territories would not serve as launchpads against the Islamic Republic.

That Iran’s response has been to turn its missiles on these same neighbours is not only a strategic miscalculation of historic proportions, but is also a profound moral and legal failure that risks poisoning relations for generations to come.

The Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) states did not arrive at this crisis as Iran’s enemies. They arrived as reluctant bystanders, having spent years threading a needle between Washington and Tehran with deliberate, often thankless, care….

I disagree with the writer, Sultan Al-Khulaifi. For years the Gulf Arabs have been alarmed as they watched Iran create a “Shi’a crescent” extending from Iran to include Shia militias in Iraq, Shia Houthis in Yemen, Shia Hezbollah in Lebanon, and even Hamas, though its membership was Sunni, was provided aid by Iran, that treated Hamas as an “honorary Shia” member because it was hellbent, like Iran, on destroying the Jewish state.

Every missile fired at Dubai or Doha or Riyadh shifts the narrative, pulls the Gulf states deeper into a conflict they sought to avoid, and weakens the very actors most capable of mediating a way out. This is a strategic miscalculation of the first order. The interest of the wider region lies in preventing Israel from emerging as the unchallenged hegemon of the Middle East, a scenario that becomes more likely, not less, the more Iran pushes its Arab neighbours out of their potential role as honest brokers and into the arms of a deeper security alignment with Washington. Iran, in targeting the Gulf, is not resisting the new regional order; it is inadvertently constructing it.

What Sultan Al-Khulaifi chooses not to say is that these Gulf Arab states are not just moving closer to Washington, but also closer to Jerusalem. The UAE and Bahrain were already linked to Israel in the Abrahamic Accords, and their support for the Jewish state has only deepened as it becomes obvious that Israel is the single most effective military power, even more than the United States, against Iran. 

Saudi Arabia, which for months before the war broke out had behind the scenes been urging Trump to attack Iran, has clearly been appreciative of the IDF’s destruction of so many ballistic missiles and drones that Iran will no longer be able to launch on Saudi oil production facilities. The UAE too, having endured more Iranian ballistic missile attacks even than Israel, is grateful to the Jewish state for doing such damage to Iran’s store of ballistic missiles, its ballistic missile plants, and its missile launchers. 

Among the Gulf Arab states, Qatar was the closest to Iran, which is why the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) members — especially the UAE, Saudi Arabia, and Bahrain — blockaded Qatar between 2017 and 2022, accusing it of supporting Iran-backed groups and fostering closer ties with Iran, which they viewed as a threat to regional security.

Even if the war with Iran were to be halted tomorrow, and no more missiles or drones were launched by Tehran at the Gulf Arab states, it would take many years for the bad blood between the Gulf Arabs and Iran to subside. Iran — the Shi’a and non-Arab outlier in a Sunni Arab sea — will be shunned by its neighbors unless it agrees to pay for all the damage it has inflicted on the Gulf Arab states, which as of now exceeds $100 billion. I don’t think Iran will ever agree to that.

Hamideh Soleimani Afshar, Facebook

“Hamideh Soleimani Afshar and her daughter are now in the custody of US Immigration and Customs Enforcement,” the State Department said in a statement after Rubio revoked their green cards.

The State Department noted that while the pair were living in the US, Afshar “promoted Iranian regime propaganda, celebrated attacks against American soldiers and military facilities in the Middle East, praised the new Iranian Supreme Leader, denounced America as the ‘Great Satan,’ and voiced her unflinching support for the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, a designated terror organization.”

So Hamideh Soleimani Afshar felt so secure with her green card that, far from keeping quiet so as not to attract unwelcome attention, she spouted Iranian Islamic regime propaganda, celebrated attacks against American soldiers and military facilities, declared her undying support for the IRGC that the American government has designated as a terror organization, and called America, where she wanted to live, the “Great Satan.”

The statement noted that Afshar did all of this while living a life of luxury in Los Angeles, as evidenced by posts on her Instagram account, which has since been deleted.

She supports the IRGC wholeheartedly, that group of cutthroats her uncle headed before his timely demise, a sinister armed force well known for its torture and murder of Iranian protesters. But she has been doing her cheerleading from Los Angeles, far from the police state she wants to survive, as long as she herself need not endure it. 

And as a pampered child of the corrupt Iranian nomenklatura, she has plenty of money from her doting uncle, but it can’t be as easily spent in Iran, where her lavish living would raise eyebrows among ordinary Iranians. 

So she somehow managed under the Biden administration to be admitted to the United States, where she is able to buy and enjoy, far from the prying eyes of her fellow Iranians, her Hermès foulards and Chanel perfumes and Elie Saab gowns and Birkin bags, and suchlike luxe found in high-end shops along Rodeo Drive.

How was it that she was admitted to the United States in the first place? Surely the name “Soleimani” on an Iranian passport should have set off alarm bells. What was the reason they were both given green cards? Did they claim they were being persecuted in Iran? It shouldn’t have been hard for well-trained immigration officers to ferret out the truth. Wasn’t a Persian-speaking officer available to interrogate her? Or were those immigration officers — let’s get their names, please — simply asleep at the wheel?

And how long have they been in this country, the niece and grand-niece of Qasem Soleimani who are freely spouting Iranian regime propaganda and declaring their undying support for the Islamic Republic? There are 140,000 Iranian-Americans in Los Angeles County, and at least 500,000 in Southern California. Did none of those people, able to read her online posts in Persian, think that she should be reported to the authorities? Of course, in the Biden administration, no one would have paid much attention. They were not interested in “punishing innocent relatives” of Iranian officials.

The State Department under Marco Rubio has been going aggressively after relatives of Islamic Republic leaders now living in this country, determined to strip them of their green cards and to promptly deport them.

These relatives of Islamic Republic big shots know, despite their claims of admiration and support for the Islamic Republic, that they can only be happy in the Great Satan, whose freedoms they enjoy even while they try to undermine the country, our country, that in a fit of absentmindedness let them in. And of course, it’s far better to spend the money their corrupt relatives gave them out of sight of starving Iranians. These hideous people should never have been admitted in the first place, but now justice will be done. 

They will be located, arrested, and quickly deported. The daughter of the slain Iranian leader Ali Larijani and her husband are already home, and Soleimani’s niece and grand-niece will within days be sent packing to Tehran. The criminals who run Iran should learn that not only they, but all of their relatives will be kept out of the United States, the “Great Satan” they are so eager to live in. Sorry, says Marco Rubio, our splendid Secretary of State. No can do.

USAF F-16A F-15C F-15E Desert Storm, US Air Force, Public domain

US officials had earlier confirmed the mission to FOX News, explaining that the US Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) had conducted an extensive deception campaign as part of the rescue effort.

The Airman, who hasn’t yet been publicly named, was one of two aircrew flying the F-15 when it was shot down. A US military team rescued the aircraft’s pilot later that day, but the second airman was stranded for 36 hours in mountainous terrain before being rescued by US forces.

The CIA campaign involved spreading word inside Iran that US forces had already found him and were moving him overland for exfiltration, confusing Iranian forces and leadership in their own search for the missing airman.

While Iranian forces grappled with misinformation, US intelligence was able to aid in locating the airman in Iran and assist in a US special forces extraction mission.

It was the ultimate “needle in a haystack” scenario, a US official told Fox News. “A courageous American hidden within a mountain crevice, undetectable by conventional means but revealed through CIA intelligence,” he said….

Foreign reports have claimed that Israeli commandos participated in the operation. However, an IDF source stated to the Post that these reports are completely false.

Note that the IDF denies that Israeli commandos took part in the actual rescue and extraction of the downed American, but did not say that Israelis played no part. In fact, an IDF source confirmed that Israel provided intelligence to the Americans. 

Isn’t it likely that Mossad helped supply information to the Americans about the situation on the ground near where the airman was located, such as what Iranian forces were in the area and whether Iranians collaborating with Mossad were also close by? Surely Mossad would also have helped spread inside Iran the false story about the Americans having already found the airman and were taking him overland out of the country. 

This led the Iranians to look for him in the wrong places, and to ignore the possibility of an extraction by air. I haven’t heard anyone in the IDF claim that Israel played “no part whatsoever in the rescue.” In fact, an IDF source confirmed that Israel did supply the Americans with useful intelligence, and also bombed certain Iranian sites as a diversionary tactic, but did not take part in the rescue itself.

During the operation, US forces reportedly established a temporary air base for their search mission, during which two MC-130J planes became stuck, according to a Wall Street Journal report.

MC-130Js are specially equipped aircraft used for covert infiltration and the extraction of troops from behind enemy lines.

Due to the planes being immobilized, three additional planes were reportedly sent in for final extraction, NYT reported, and US forces made the decision to blow up the downed planes before evacuating the area.

After the successful extraction mission, Iranian forces discovered the remains of the MC-130J planes and falsely claimed that their military had shot them down.

“According to the IRGC Public Relations Department, through divine favor, the hostile American drone that had been tracking a downed fighter pilot in the southern Isfahan was shot down.” IRNA news tweeted regarding the MC-130J aircraft.

The Iranians did not shoot down the two MC-130J aircraft, as they claimed. “Divine favor” of Allah had nothing to do with it. These very heavy planes had landed, got stuck on the inhospitable ground (mud? sand? rocks?), and could not take off. The decision was made to blow them up, to prevent them from falling intact into enemy hands. But Iranians are being told that Iran’s anti-aircraft fire brought them down. Very few people in Iran are still willing to believe the nonsense and lies their rulers disseminate.

What effect will this rescue have on Iranians? First, they will be mightily impressed with the ability of the American military to find this human needle in a haystack, somewhere in the mountainous wastes of western Iran. Second, they will again see that the Americans have beaten their blustering rulers to the punch — with aid in part from their indispensable ally, Israel — who got to the airman and extracted him by air, while Iranian forces had been tricked into going on a wild goose chase in western Iran, convinced by rumors that Mossad spread that the Americans had found the airman and were supposedly already taking him overland out of Iran.

Third, and perhaps most important, the Iranians can compare how the Americans will move heaven and earth to rescue one of their own, just as the IDF tried to rescue, at great cost, hostages kidnapped by Hamas, while the rulers in Tehran don’t give a damn about the safety of their people, and are willing to use their own civilians as cannon fodder in order to ensure that the regime itself remains in power. The latest example of this is the regime’s new policy, announced on March 26, to recruit children as young as twelve for “Homeland Defending Combatants” roles. 

They are assigned to help out in the war effort, manning urban checkpoints and handling security patrols in Tehran, amid severe manpower shortages. Recruiting children under 15 into armed forces or using them in hostilities is classified as a war crime under international law, as noted by the UN Treaty of the Rights of the Child.

After I wrote the above, more about Israel’s role in the rescue was made public, which included diversionary airstrikes by the IDF. More on what Israel did to help in the rescue can be found here: “IDF intelligence, strikes helped US rescue downed pilot, sources tell ‘Post,'” by Amichai Stein, Jerusalem Post, April 5, 2026:

The 48-hour mission, which a senior US official described as “the boldest and most courageous rescue operation in history,” relied also on Israeli intelligence and tactical support to ensure the pilots were extracted before they could be captured by Iranian forces.

According to sources who spoke with The Jerusalem Post, the IDF, acting in cooperation with US forces, launched a series of strikes against Iranian targets. These strikes were strategically designed to act as a diversion, drawing Iranian security forces away from the crash site and toward other areas.

In addition to the diversionary tactics, the IDF targeted specific Iranian assets with the intent to sabotage and disrupt Tehran’s race toward the pilots, blinding the Iranian military partially to the pilots’ location while the extraction team moved in.

Thank God Israel is on our side and we, thank God, are on Israel’s.