Part 16: A first-hand account of life in detention in Singapore’s draconian ISA
A narrative about injustice: “Your friends will blame you for everything.” ISD officers offered to "help"
A continuation of Zulfikar’s account of life under Singapore’s ISA
The next few weeks, I learned about life in detention. Having read Said Zahari’s book, I thought I would meet with the other detainees. During the interrogation period, I was taken out of the cell almost daily, from morning to evening. I had assumed that after that period, I would meet with others.
I did not realise that I would be held in solitary confinement throughout the detention.
The day I was given the detention order, a Gurkha officer gave me a straw mat. I was also given a pair of blue shorts.
“Interrogation wear shorts. Family visit or counselling wear brown pants” I was told.
For the next several weeks, whenever they met me, Tim and Ong asked me about my friends.
“Now you are here and get this” Ong said, while pointing at my cuffed hand, “your friends will blame you for everything.”
I was told that because I could not be in a worse position, I would be everyone’s scapegoat.
I knew it would happen.
I was used to it.
A few months before my arrest, when I heard that Saiddhin (who was part of AlMakhazin) was interrogated by ISD, I tried to get in touch with him to offer my support. Saiddhin was like a brother to me. His family messaged me on FB that Saiddhin was not allowed to speak with me.
He finally messaged me a few weeks later. He apologised. He said he was forced to accuse me. I told him it was ok.
During the hijab case in 2002, Nawab Osman (formerly RSIS and now Head of Counter-Terrorism and Dangerous Organizations, APAC at Meta/Facebook) was a Fateha exco-member.
I invited him to various events and tried to build him. Everytime there was an opportunity for media or training, I would invite Nawab and promote him. We discussed what to do, strategies, activities, press statements.
Nawab was with me when I was interviewed by BBC, which kicked off the government’s attack on me in 2002. When we arrived at the BBC studio, I introduced him to the producer in the hope that they would interview him too. But they passed on it.
In that interview, I criticised the ISA arrests and said that Malay community leaders jumped on the bandwagon without asking for evidence. I argued that we needed to be more critical in our response to the PAP government’s actions.
After the interview, I felt uneasy. I said to Nawab “I think I may have gone too far in my criticism.”
“No it was good” he said.
“I don’t think so. I think I pushed too much on this.” I felt I was risking our other issues, especially the hijab by pushing hard on the ISA arrests.
“No, it was good” Nawab repeated.
I was not sure. I was uncomfortable. What I said reflected our earlier discussions but I felt exposed.
The next day, the story broke. Suria, the Malay TV channel ran stories about me. They interviewed Malays and asked them whether they took “Zulfikar” as their leader. I was criticised for the BBC interview. One after another, Malay organisations issued statements to criticise me.
A few days later, Nawab and two others (Terence Nunis and Faris Abdat) organised a press conference to join the attack. They claimed I made the statements myself and that they had nothing to do with it.
Interestingly, Daud Yusof, the Suria reporter called me that night to get my response. He said “I told them, how can they say they don’t agree when they were there when I interviewed you?”.
Faris apologised the next day. He said Terence who had just joined Fateha a few weeks earlier pressured him to attack me in the media.
A few months later, I met Nawab at a seminar and he apologised. He claimed he was pressured by Yaacob Ibrahim.
I was used to it.
A few days later, a senior Malay academic who was Fateha’s advisor called me on the phone while I was on my way home from meeting Karpal Singh in KL. He scolded me for taking on the government. I was told that I should not advocate for hijab and that it was wrong.
I was confused. He knew what we were doing and had advised us. Why tell me we were wrong later? He told me to meet him at his house that night.
When I visited him, he spent the first 5-10 minutes telling me off. And suddenly he said:
“Having said all that, I wish you will carry on. If we don’t do this, then we should not talk about Islam anymore.”
He explained that when he meet with PM, he would say that he had told me to stop. But he would like me to carry on.
It was not unique. I had gone through this so many times.
When Ong told me my friends would accuse me, it did not bother me.
Almost everyone I know wanted changes in Singapore. Until they are faced with PAP’s power and the ISD.
Then they changed their minds. They suddenly “realised” that living under an authoritarian government is better than detention.
“We are trying to help you” Ong assured me. “Before they do it to you, you should do it to them first.”
I was told to blame my friends.
“I don’t mind making things up about myself. I will not make things up about others” I told him.
I knew that ISD just wanted excuses to target them.
Throughout my detention, I was shown pictures, some of people that I knew and most, that I did not.
For those I knew, I told the truth. For those that I did not, in the beginning, I was told to give accounts about them.
A lot of times, I made things up with useless information. I was shown a picture of a young Arab looking man wearing a round-neck Tshirt.
“He goes to the mosque I attended and like to lift weights. Lebanese.”
For another picture, I said “His name is ...and he lives in Sydney.”
After making up these stories and signing statements as though they were true, I would laugh and tell Tim that I did not know them.
“I said he goes to the gym because he looked buff. I have no idea who he is.” Tim did not look concerned. He would smile and moved on.
I wondered how they ever get correct information when they forced me to give false information knowingly. A few months later, another officer, ASP Amir Assad told me to stop making up the profiles.
The day after I was given the detention order, I was allowed to meet with my family. I was at the exercise yard when I was called out.
The exercise yards were located at the end of each wing. These were basically larger cells.
The green rectangle at the end of each “arm” is the yard. The green is the colour of the metal grille that covers it. The yard is inside the building.
The yard was enclosed by four walls and had cement floors. It measured about 9m by 3.5m (I laid down on the floor and measured the length by my height). Because I did not leave the wing to go to the yard, I was not handcuffed.
Instead, I was given a blackened pair of goggles as a blindfold and led to the yard, which was just a few metres away. The Gurkha officers then closed the door and stood outside, looking at me through the glass panel.
Even at the yard, it was solitary.
There was a basketball hoop and I was given a small plastic ball to play with. Part of the yard was sheltered while the rest was covered with a metal grill, allowing me to see the sky.
I was playing with the plastic ball when I was called out for the family visit.
During visits, only two family members were allowed at a time. My wife and children had to take turns during the 30 minutes. I would see each one for around 6-7 minutes before they had to step out.
Shireen entered the room with Alauddin. We spoke from behind the glass wall.
After asking about each other and professing our love, I told them that I had been given 2 years detention. They cried while I tried to console them. Shireen wanted to get a lawyer for me. I was not sure that was allowed.
After the meeting, I said to Tim that Shireen wanted to arrange for a lawyer but I was not sure how that would work.
“From what I remember, habeas corpus is suspended for ISA isn’t it?” I asked Tim.
“That is the word. Habeas corpus” Tim replied.
I realised that he did not give me an answer.
He did not tell me I was allowed a lawyer.
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