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Anwar’s Sodomy 1 revisited

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But before change can take place, a sense of deja vu has hit us with Anwar once again back in court. We reproduce a chilling statutory declaration from 1998 by Dr Munawar Ahmad Anees, who was subjected to cruel, inhuman and degrading treatment.


I had no idea where I was.  I was finally pushed through a door and when my blindfold was removed and my eyes adjusted to the light I saw that I was in a cell of approximately 8 feet square … The room was brightly lit by an overhead light that was never switched off throughout my stay there …

Before my captors left the cell I was told, rudely and in a dismissive style, that I had henceforth no name or identity, that I was number 26.  About 10 to 15 minutes later the door of the cell was slammed open and a man walked in and shouted out ‘26’.  I was slow to respond and was severely reprimanded for that …

I was forced to sit … and, against my will, shaved bald.  I was then given a dustpan and a small broom and asked to sweep up my hair …

‘Mr Nice Guy’

This ritual of a loud knock and the doors being violently opened was followed each time I was taken out of my cell … I was now directed to take a bath … As I got ready to take a bath the guard yelled at me to get on and to hurry up …  I started my bath but when I was halfway through it and while still having soap on my body he stopped me and then got me to dress and to get out of the bathroom.  I forgot to switch off the light and the guard became angry and screamed at me that he wasn’t there to serve me.  I was rushed back to my cell with my clothes still damp …

I was tired, dazed and disoriented, still having very heavy palpitations and laboured breathing and intensely worried about my family.  The heavy feeling in my legs and light-headedness had returned after the rice meal and I felt very lethargic.

Once again there was the now familiar bang on the door and my number ‘26’ was shouted out.  The door opened and this time two guards walked in … They first handcuffed and then blindfolded me … They led me out of my cell.  They held me for a short distance and from then on gave directions and allowed me to grope my way … We went up a flight of stairs – there were 50 steps over five landings … After the 50th step I was asked to stop.  One of the two swung me around and punched me in the stomach and said that he was ‘Mr Nice Guy’ and that I was ‘Dr Feel Good’…

My handcuffs were now taken off.  A moment later one of the guards took my blindfold off.  I saw I was facing an open room.  It was brightly lit.  When I was finally able to focus I saw four stone-faced expressionless men seated on chairs behind a table.  The two men on either side looked Chinese, the one in the middle … Indian and the other Malay.  My guards left me standing in front of the table.  There was silence in the room.

Suddenly the Malay man thumped the table and shouted at me in Bahasa Malaysia.  I did not understand him and apologised in English for not being fluent in Bahasa.  The Malay man then switched to a mixture of Malay and English and abused me for not speaking the language.  He repeatedly kept saying ‘f***’, ‘f***ing’ as he abused me.  The other three joined in as well …

After about 30 minutes or so the four of them stopped and the Malay officer suddenly slammed the table again and shouted at me in English that I had no manners, that I entered a place where there were four seated officers and I had not greeted them … From then on my interrogators abused and assailed me mainly in English …

There was then suddenly a barrage of questions directed at me.  One interrogator would ask a question, I would be in the middle of my answer when another would cut in with a second question.  I would turn to the second officer and the third would attack me with a different question. I would turn to the third and the first would yell at me demanding his answer …

The questions were never related, there was no link between them though they were all directed at my personal particulars, about my work, something about everything but nothing indicative of any subversive or criminal activities.  This style of questioning was consistently followed throughout my interrogation there though at times some of the interrogators would leave the room leaving behind two and, at times, one interrogator.  I can guess they went to rest but they never let me rest.

‘Hidup Malaysia’

While this was going on I heard the door behind me being violently kicked open.  I turned and saw a man walk in. The four behind the table stood up.  The man who walked in was carrying a thick heavy file.  He walked up to me and hit the back of my head with the file and then shouted at me that they knew everything and that there was no need for me to misguide them or to hide.  He said that they knew everything I did with Anwar.

When I tried to protest that I did nothing except help write speeches, this officer menacingly said, “I am giving you 24 hours.  Within that period come up with what we want or we will be very nasty with you.”…  He then hit the back of my head again with his file, thumped the floor with is shoes, shouted ‘Hidup Malaysia’(Long Live Malaysia), turned and left.  The door was heavily slammed shut behind him.

When this officer left the room the Indian-looking man at the table pointed at me and warned me that the officer who had just left was the top-notch officer and added, ‘You know what he wants.  He wants facts, information.  We want facts.”  I again protested that I had done nothing irregular but they were not interested in my protestations and continued haranguing me …

In between all the verbal abuse, threats and advise, the Malay officer tried to impress me with his knowledge of Urdu by the use of the odd word or two by singing a snatch of some Hindi song …

A chance

One or another of the four would always warn me that if I did not co-operate I would be sent to a detention centre for two years and that the detention would be further extended in two-year multiples.  I was repeatedly told that I would never see my family again and that I should consider this opportunity a blessing since everyone was giving me a chance.  I couldn’t understand what they wanted and what was this chance they were giving me.  I would tell them this.

They would then emphasise, in turn, repeatedly, about how senior people had been arrested for their own rehabilitation.  They warned me that my perception of no wrong was mine and not necessarily correct, that in someone else’s or his (the officer’s) mind I had done wrong.  They warned me that the Internal Security Act was to retrain minds towards goodness, to offer me a chance to realise my mistakes and an opportunity to repent …

I had had just one small meal since my arrest early on the morning of the 14 September 1998. I had had no rest or sleep and had lost all track of time.  I was sick.  My interrogators did not care at all about my condition …  they began asking me whether I knew why I was there in their hands.  I said I did not know and they would then tell me that it had to do with Anwar.  When I would tell them that I was his English speech writer they would respond by saying that they knew.  They would then ask me to think of my position and that I had to help them and the nation.  They would tell me how …

Wrong perception

… one of the four started on the interrogation.  He asked if I had thought about things and about how I could help them and the country … I still could not understand what they wanted from me on Anwar and I asked them.

Finally one of them asked if I had read the affidavits that had been published in the papers about Anwar.  I said yes but not in any great detail.  One of them said that there were sexual allegations, particularly of a homosexual nature, against Anwar in those affidavits.  I told them that so far as I knew Anwar was not involved in any such sexual activities and that in all the years I had known him he had always conducted himself with integrity.  I told them that it was easy to make such allegations.

They said they would show me evidence.  They asked me to think and concentrate on such homosexual activities. I asked if they were making allegations against me … I told them that I had never had a homosexual relationship in my entire life.  They said they knew that that was my perception of things but that my perception of things was wrong, that they had to retrain my mind to see what was right and wrong, that they would show me how …

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For the first time at this session they also introduced a threat involving the presence of US agents in Malaysia.  They said that the US agents were here and were working with them and were already checking into my background with a view to cancelling my pending application for US citizenship and revoking my green card.

For hours, the interrogation veered between my rehabilitation, the retraining of my mind, the position and well-being of my family, the possibility of my being put away in a detention centre, of losing everything I had, my wife, my children …


As the interrogation progressed one or more of the four officers without warning, break into loose vulgar language. One would make statements like ‘Anwar f***s, you f***’and the rest would laugh.  Another would then make a derogatory remark about the Punjabis being big f***ers and offer me a cigarette. I always felt lightheaded after I smoked one of their cigarettes.

The interrogation would then switch back to my work, my vulnerability and then, just as suddenly switch back to vulgarity and Anwar and homosexuality.  They would make lewed remarks, asking me about the sixe of my penis using expressions like ‘d**k’, ç**k’.  They would ask me for its length, its diameter, asking me whether I would like to put it in someone’s á**e’.  They asked how I would feel if I had someone’s meat ‘shoved up my a**e’…

This switching in the interrogation continued unabated right throughout the time I was with them … Gradually they began to introduce Anwar’s name more into the abuse and began to make him play a more active part in their lewd description of homosexual and non-homosexual sex.  They began to make suggestions that Anwar enjoyed homosexual sex.  They asked me to think about homosexual sex, about ‘f***ing’ me.  They asked me to groan as if I was being ‘f***ed’ and enjoying it.


In that situation, in their hands, I had little choice but to groan and moan as my captors wanted me to.  I acted as they wanted me to.  They were bullies and I was in their hands …  They asked me if I had seen Anwar’s c**k and then asked me to pretend I was sucking the c**k of the ‘DPM’, as one officer crudely put it.  As I acted out the demeaning, humiliating parts they gave me, they laughed and asked if it was good.

By the end of the second day the long hours of interrogation, the lack of sleep, and the lack of decent food had left me completely disoriented and exhausted … I remember the second day’s interogation ending with my interrogator’s warning to me to think about all they had said and that they would be seeing me again shortly …  Their parting words, in unison, were ‘F*** Anwar’.  I was then handcuffed and blindfolded and led back to my cell.

I had no idea of time …  Lying there curled up in that foetal position I could only replay in my mind what my captors had repeatedly drummed into me: the sex acts they asked me to act out, the vulnerable position that I was in … In that silence, in that cell I was alone and very far from normalcy and truth and felt increasingly that no one could help me or my family …  I thought of all this and I thought of sleep and food and the love of my family and I cried…


There was one man seated alone at a table.  I had never seen him before.  He asked me to sit.  I did so and he then asked me for my personal history.  I was too tired to resist or to ask why they were asking for the same information repeatedly.  He wrote everything down.  He questioned me on everything I had done …

Sometimes during this interrogation the original four officers entered the room and joined this fifth officer.  They then took over the interrogation while the fifth officer left the room.  They kept on drumming into me that my perception of things was wrong, that I had forgotten, that I had to listen to them.  The abuse centred around my penis, its length and size, human genitalia, vaginal and anal sex.  They never stopped talking about sex, repeatedly stating that they had to f*** Anwar.  They made me simulate anal sex by lying down on the floor.  They asked me to groan and moan while I was doing it.

The fifth officer came back into the room and joined the original four.  He took over the questioning but this time went on a new and different line.  He said that he had been to Pakistan, said that sex there was repressed and regressed.  He said that homosexuality was a way of life in Pakistan and suggested that I should share my sex life details with them.  It became apparent that this routine and the haranguing was going to go on for ever.  

Truth and my denials were getting me nowhere.  I was at the point of collapse and could not go on.  I knew I had to play along with them.  The fifth officer took out a cigarette from a pack that was in his pocket and offered it to me.  I was always given a cigarette from a black pack.  The officers when they smoked always seemed to take cigarettes from other packs.  The cigarette tasted unusual but good.  Every time I smoked one of their cigarettes I felt strangely light-headed and ‘woozy’.


He suggested that it was natural in Pakistan.  I looked at him.  He stared at me and then pointed at my anus.  I was dead tired. I nodded my head. He smiled and said ‘good’.  It now became a sequence where they asked questions and I nodded in acquiescence and when they asked for details I made up whatever pleased them.  Gradually they made up a story about a non-existent ‘Parvez’ and some University liaison.  They wanted me to be the active partner and insisted on that feature in the Parvez story.  I denied this but they would have it no other way stating that it was the Pakistani way of life.

The original four interrogators then repeated the fictional Parvez ‘story’to me and made me repeat it to them, again and again, …  At one point in their haranguing and their suggestions that I was a homosexual I asked if they knew biology and suggested a medical examination would confirm homosexuality.  They ignored this and for a long time made me talk about the male and female sex organs.  They wanted graphics and made me draw these, over and over.  They talked incessantly about anal sex, giving me extensive biological details about the size and shape of the penis in relation to the male anus …


They asked for dates and times of sexual encounters.  I had none to give.  They became angry and abusive and threatening.  They went back to sex in the US and asked for more names.

I fabricated an ‘Andre’.  There was again a momentary let-up in the interrogation, again a statement about my perceptions being wrong, that I had forgotten, that they were reminding me and correcting them, again a warning that if I concentrated the pattern would surface, that I had to have a tendency towards homosexuality.  They nodded in agreement, smiled, gave me a cigarette, claimed to know about this ficticious ‘Andre’ and said that they had been told about ‘Andre’ by the US agents then in Kuala Lumpur.

‘Andre’ was someone created by me that morning in absolute desperation …


They then introduced the previous session’s sexual scenario into the interrogation and started pressurising me for details.  When I had none to give they asked that I think about them while they waited for their senior officer to come back.  In the meantime they went into other details and descriptions of oral sex.

Then they reverted to their pattern of interrogation but now began to concentrate more on Anwar.  They reminded me again and again that Anwar was a homosexual, that I had ‘f***ed’ him, that they had proof of it.  They opened a bag, took out some photographs and threw them on the table.  These were normal regular photographs.  Two were of me, one alone and one with a person known as Khalid Jaffar.  There was another photograph of a person they said was ‘Mior’.  I did not know this ‘Mior’…

Suddenly one of the four screamed at me to stand up.  I did so.  All four came from behind the table and surrounded me in a very aggressive manner as if they were about to assault me.  One of them literally had his face in mine.  They all screamed at me, in my ears, loudly, again and again and again, that I had f***ed Anwar, f***ed Anwar, f***ed, f***ed, Anwar, Anwar.  They screamed and screamed and screamed, in my ears, my face, at me, again and again, over and over asking me to say ‘yes’ until I gave in and broke down saying yes, yes.  They stopped screaming.  That was what they wanted to hear.  They were not interested that it was untrue.  They gave me a cigarette and allowed me to smoke it …

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Whenever it suited them I was made to lie on the floor and simulate anal sex with Anwar.  I was asked to alternate as if I was on top of Anwar and then Anwar on top of me.  All this was humiliating.  It descended into vulgarity both in their actions and in their words.  But they never stopped …

They repeatedly drilled into my mind that my perceptions were wrong, that they were educating me, rehabilitating me, showing me how I was helping Malaysia and my family, that my only way out from there was to give them what the nation needed.  They came back to the issue of sex and placed the photograph of ‘Mior’on the table.  They asked for details of the man.  I told them that I did not know him.  They said I had ‘screwed’ Mior. I denied that.

Choosing a month

They went back to Anwar and anal sex and my perceptions.  Step by step, by alternately shouting and screaming and questioning, by cajoling and threatening, by warnings about detention and my family, they made me repeat after them again and again, that I had engaged in sexual misconduct with Anwar on several occasions.  They made me say that I was sorry about it all, that I was ashamed and repented that all this had happened.  At stages they would stop to ensure that the information had been drilled into me and would then continue.

They made me say that I was forced into it because I feared for my job and that if I refused Anwar’s advances my employment would be in jeopardy, that I would lose important financial resources.  They made me say that it hurt me a lot that this kind of behaviour was coming from a person who claimed to be a pious Muslim and that he had betrayed a lot of Muslims in this country and the whole Muslim world who had looked up to him as an inspiring leader.  They made me say that every time I engaged in this act it was a disgusting experience for me.  These were all lies made up by the ISA officers.

They wanted to fix details and asked me to choose a month.  I could not because there had never been any homosexual relationship between me and Anwar. There was nothing for me to choose.  They said they would help and then started going through my work in Malaysia.  They went through the details; that I first met Anwar in 1984; that I first came to Malaysia in 1986; that I only visited in 1986, 1987 and 1988; that I first began living in Malaysia in 1988.  My interrogators were struggling to fix a time.  My interrogators settled on March 1993 because in their interrogations they determined that after 1993 my speech-writing activities for Anwar were reduced considerably …

They knew from their interrogation of me that in 1993 I lived at Bukit Damansara with my wife and children.  So they picked the month – it would be March 1993.  I travelled a lot at that time and hoped, to myself, that I had been abroad in March 1993 – I could have been in New Delhi, or Casablanca or in Qatar for a conference or back to my home in the US. I did not tell them this …

Then there would be the demand that I endlessly repeat the details they had settled on until they were drilled into me.  When they were finally satisfied with my repetition of the details they switched back to telling me that the higher authorities had been contacted about me, that they were happy with my co-operation and performance …

Emotional speech

A little later another officer walked in.  This was the person who eventually took me to see a magistrate for a statement to be recorded from me.  He was very stern.  He shouted at me to stand up.  I did so …  He said that they were cancelling my identity card, that steps had been taken to send me to the detention centre and then eventually to deport me.  He declared that my US citizenship was in serious jeopardy and that the US agents in Malaysia looking into things had decided to revoke it.  My family had been told to pack up.

He warned me that I had nothing left unless I agreed to serve the country, that I had only one option and that was to co-operate with them.  He then started on a very emotional speech about loving Malaysia, about sacrifices, about fighting for and giving one’s life in defence of Malaysia, about defending Malaysia, about going to jail for Malaysia.  He screamed at me whether I was prepared to do all that.  He screamed ‘answer, answer, answer.’ I was stunned and all I could say was ‘yes, yes, yes’.  He thumped his shoes on the floor, raised his arm in the air and shouted ‘Hidup Malaysia’ and then turned and walked out.

I stood rooted to the floor and was still standing when the four interrogators walked back in.  They asked me to sit and told me I had done a good job.  They offered me a cigarette and told me that it was only four to five months and that I shouldn’t worry.  This was the first time there had been any mention of these four to five months and I asked them what they meant.  They said that was the sentence I would get.  I protested but they said I was not to worry.  They offered me another cigarette and laughed and said I had a great ‘c**k’…

The ‘date’

A little later he returned and spoke privately to the four interrogators.  Two of the four then left the room.  At this point four new officers walked in … The others addressed the man who sat in the middle as ‘Dato’.  This ‘Dato’ spoke first in a cold tone …  He assured me that they would liase with the US agent to resolve my US citizenship status satisfactorily.  He said that his officers had told him that I had agreed to die for the nation but that he had no desire to punish me since I was a victim of Anwar’s lust and after all what was four to five months when compared to death …

I was numb from fear and worry.  When he was finished the three seated officers stood up.  The junior officers saluted, everyone of them shouted ‘Hidup Malaysia’and they all left.  This must have been very late into the night.  I was left alone for a few minutes.  Then all the four interrogators walked in.  One came over and slapped me on my back and said that I had done a good job and that they could now ‘f***’ Anwar.

‘Free will’

They then transferred me to the back seat of a Proton car.  I was wedged between two officers …  One of the officers pushed me down on the seat so that I could not be seen.  When the car stopped I found that I was at Bukit Aman … the senior officer once again started telling me that my family would be proud of me and that thy were safe …

He then said it was time to take me for the statement to be recored from me the way I had been briefed the night before and then added as an obvious warning that all my Internal Security Act detention problems would be resolved after I had given the statement.

They again put me in the car and hid me by making me bend forward.  When the car finally stopped and I was taken out I noticed that I was in the Court complex.  At the Court while we were walking I was constantly being reminded of what I had to say in my statement to the magistrate … ASP Mazlan went into the Magistrate’s room and took me in.  The ISA officer waited outside.

The Magistrate talked to me in Malay … At some point she asked if I was there of my own free will and made a remark about my being alone in her room.  I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry because she was completely missing the point that I had been brought there by my captors and interrogators, that they were waiting outside her room and that when I was finished I was going back to my small cell.  My life and freedom and that of my family were in the hands of the police …

The irony of her writing that I was making a statement of my own free will and reading back that statement to me and then asking me to sign it hit me very hard.  She read back that statement to me.  She signed.  She asked me to sign.  She repeated that only the three of us were present in that room.  We signed again …

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The lawyer

ASP Mazlan then asked me whether I had a lawyer.  I said I did not.  He said to me that I was not to worry and that he had one for me.  ASP Mazlan never at this point of time, or before or after that, told me that my wife had already engaged a lawyer for me and that lawyer had already been in contact with Police Headquarters right from the first day of my arrest.

He then made a telephone call and spoke to someone … He mentioned a name to me – Yacob Karim – and after telling me that he was to be my lawyer handed the phone to me … All I can say is that it was a pre-arranged thing and that when ASP Mazlan spoke to Yacob Karim a little earlier this Yacob Karim was already there in the Police Headquarters …

Yacob Karim sat at the table across from me.  His first statement to me was that he was sorry that it, the sodomy, had happened to me.  I was shocked at this as it showed that he had been briefed by the police and even more shocked that he believed it … Yacob Karim then proceeded to tell me that arrangements were being made and that I would be taken to a Sessions Court the next day and that I would have to plead guilty to a charge and to admit to the offence.

I asked him why … and he replied that otherwise they could not proceed with the case against Anwar.  He said arrangements had been made to get me a light sentence.  To every question that I asked him after that he gave me a stock answer – “Don’t ask me.  Ask the Police.”…  Yacob Karim never at any time spoke about fees or being retained by me or about informing my wife about my situation.  I am now not surprised at the way he attended to me that afternoon since his conduct then and subsequently cleary showed that he was working together with the police in denying me my rights.

Last warnings

After Yacob Karim left, three of my previous interrogators came into the room … They reminded me of the arrangements made for the next day and warned me of the consequences if things went wrong.  I was reminded that my family was vulnerable … I was cautioned to be strong the next day and to plead guilty as the lawyer had told me to do …

They said that I had to be away for 5 to 6 months so that things would quieten down but that after I come out of prison there would be a job waiting for me.  During these 5 to 6 months, they said, my family would be looked after and that they had already talked to my wife.  My wife now tells me that no one from the Police Headquarters called her or gave her any information about my whereabouts.

After all these warnings I was locked up in a cell at Bukit Aman and left for the night.  By next morning I was a wreck of a man with worry.  I was asked to dress in the same clothes that I had worn when arrested. I had slippers on my feet and was given a skull cap to wear to hide my bald head.

Screaming in court

I was taken to the Court complex by ASP Mazlan and several other police officers.  They adopted various cloak and dagger tactics to initially keep me hidden and away from the hordes of photographers there.  I was finally taken into a court.

I was shivering and my palpitations were very strong.  My breathing was laboured and I had difficulty controlling my bladder.  I remember at some stage somebody giving me something to wear to stop the shivering but it did not help.  I remember at some point in the middle of the court proceedings being no more able to control my bladder and having to be allowed to go and urinate.  I was then taken into a Court by ASP Mazlan and many other police officers.

Yacob Karim was in that Court.  I saw ASP Mazlan and the other police officers spread themselves around the Court.  Yacob Karim came to me and handed me two documents.  He said it was the charge which I had to admit.  I saw the documents for the first time that morning.  Even in my condition I was shocked at the details.  Yacob Karim told me not to question anything, just to plead guilty and then, when asked, to acknowledge that I knew I could be punished for the offence.  He then showed me another sheet which he said were the facts of the case.  He said that when the facts were read to me I was to admit them and say nothing else.  He told me that he would attend to the rest and that everything had been taken care of.

At one point before the judge came into the Court I saw a man come near me.  He said that he was a lawyer and that my wife had appointed him to act for me.  This man pointed at Yacob Karim and asked who he was.  Yacob Karim came to where I was and stood there.  This man spoke to me rather abruptly and asked who appointed Yacob.  I pointed at ASP Mazlan.  ASP Maslan appeared angry and immediately gestured that I shouldn’t involve him and pointed towards Yacob.

I saw some of the other plain-clothes police officers start to move.

I panicked, wondering what was about to happen and feared for my wife and children.  Yacob who had been quiet suddenly found his voice and said he was my lawyer.  I lost control of myself then, out of sheer fright.  My head was full of the Internal Security Act, the threats made to me and my family, the presence of the police there in court … I felt that if I made a single move that displeased the police my family would be hurt, that they would bring down their full force to bear down on my wife and my two young children.  I had already felt the force of their strength.

I screamed at this lawyer words to effect that he had no right to communicate with my wife or invade my privacy.  I hoped with that outburst to appease my captors so that they would leave my family alone.  I then spoke out loud for ASP Mazlan and the other police officers to hear that I had nothing to do with that lawyer coming there.

At some point when I was in that court I saw my wife there.  She appeared petrified, as if cast in stone.  She seemed unable to move like an animal caught in the glare of the headlights of a moving car.  She didn’t even blink.  She was totally helpless.  So was I.  This was the first time I had ever been in a Court.  I haven’t even had a parking violation in my 23 years of continuous living in the US.

The proceedings moved fast after that.  I did what the police expected of me.  I was trembling uncontrollably throughout the proceedings.  Even a jacket which was placed over me did not stop me from shaking and shivering uncontrollably.  No one seemed to care.  The words, sounds, sights all floated around me as if I was in a daze …  I was sentenced and then handcuffed.  Yacob came to me and told me not to worry …  I was moved to a cell in the Court complex.  Before leaving me there ASP Mazlan came once again to me and said that the Inspector General of Police was very happy with the way I had handled myself in Court …

‘They brainwashed me’

I was interrogated over long and continuous sessions.  I was always removed from my cell as No: 26, always blindfolded and handcuffed.  I was systematically humiliated by my captors who always remained unidentified.

They stripped me of all self-respect; they degraded me and broke down my will and resistance; they threatened me and my family; they frightened me; they brainwashed me to the extent that I ended up in Court on 19 September 1998 a shivering shell of a man willing to do anything to stop the destruction of my being …

I am a happily married man with two lovely children.  I was just doing my work and enjoying it.  My captors and my interrogators have destroyed all that …  I have had a long standing world wide reputation of being a respected intellectual individual …  My captors for the purposes of their criminal objectives have unjustly destroyed my image.

I did no wrong and I am innocent.  God knows that.

I make this solemn declaration conscientiously believing the same to be true and by virtue of the provisions of the Statutory Declarations Act, 1960..

Subscribed and solemnly declared by the above-named:

Munawar Ahmad Anees
(NRIC No: 480927-71-5139)
Kuala Lumpur
7 November 1998

The views expressed in Aliran's media statements and the NGO statements we have endorsed reflect Aliran's official stand. Views and opinions expressed in other pieces published here do not necessarily reflect Aliran's official position.

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Mustapha Kamal
Mustapha Kamal
30 Sep 2012 3.39pm

After reading this horrific account, it is no surprise to me that certain individuals cannot cope with the potential defeat of the Barisan Nasional in the forthcoming GE13. Having done this to an innocent individual, I guess they must be worried sick about what may happen to them, should Pakatan Rakyat win GE13.

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