Last Wednesday’s part demolition of a temple in Rawang was criminal damage under cover of grievance.Four men allegedly used a backhoe to tear down a section of a Hindu temple without informing local authorities or engaging temple management.

Police arrested them and seized the machinery, opening investigations for mischief, trespass, damage to a place of worship and acts likely to breach the peace. That should have been the end of it, a criminal case handled by the courts.

Instead, the incident lands in a climate already thick with rhetoric about “illegal” houses of worship, planned rallies and loud declarations of moral outrage. In such a toxic environment, a backhoe becomes more than a machine. It becomes a signal.

And the signal is dangerous. This is not about one structure in Rawang. It is about a growing temptation in our politics: the belief that if you feel strongly enough, you may enforce your own version of the law. That belief will ruin us.

When grievance turns into force

Malaysia has disputes over land use, over planning approval and over religious sites. These are not new. What is new is the willingness of some to bypass due process and act first. That is vigilantism. Strip away the slogans and that is what remains.

The rule of law does not bend to emotion and it does not answer to crowds. It requires evidence, procedure and restraint. When citizens take enforcement into their own hands, they do not strengthen the law. They weaken it, they swap courts with impulse, and they replace institutions with intimidation.

History offers a warning. In 1978, violence in Kerling over the alleged desecration of a temple spiralled into killings. Young men believed they were defending what was sacred. Five people died, others went to prison. The scars lasted far longer than the headlines.

No one set out that day planning to create a national wound. But once private defence turned into lethal force, events outran intentions. That is how escalation works. It rarely announces itself. Rawang did not descend into violence. It could have.

When emotions run high and communities feel cornered, retaliation does not require much imagination. A single act can trigger another. Soon the argument shifts from permits and land titles to pride and revenge. We would then face consequences far beyond a disputed structure.

Leadership is the firewall

Police have urged the public not to speculate and not to inflame tensions. That call for restraint matters. Calm enforcement sends a message that institutions still function. But law enforcement alone cannot carry the burden.

Political and civic leaders must speak with rationality. Not selective clarity. Not partisan reason. Clear condemnation of unlawful acts — full stop. Silence, equivocation or applause disguised as “understanding the frustration” only feeds the belief that some forms of lawlessness deserve sympathy.

They do not. If a house of worship violates planning laws, there are legal remedies. If land status remains disputed, there are courts. If relocation becomes necessary, there are structured negotiations. These processes may frustrate activists. They may move slowly but they exist for a reason: they prevent chaos.

We face a deeper problem than zoning disputes. We face a shortage of steady leadership at a time when steady leadership matters most. Loose statements, careless rhetoric and performative outrage push a tense society closer to the edge. Nations do not collapse overnight. They erode when citizens lose faith that institutions will act fairly.

They erode when mobs believe they can act faster than judges. They erode when anger replaces patience. Malaysia has worked too hard to present itself as stable, progressive and plural to flirt with that erosion.

This moment demands discipline. Investigate the Rawang demolition thoroughly. Charge those responsible if evidence supports it and let the courts decide.

At the same time, create transparent mechanisms to address disputes over places of worship before frustration festers. Above all, reject the idea that force equals resolve. A backhoe against a temple wall may look decisive. In truth, it signals something weaker — a loss of faith in lawful process.

If we normalise that loss of faith, we invite something far worse than damaged bricks.We invite a cycle in which every group feels justified in acting first and answering later. That path has no winners.

Malaysia stands at a simple crossroads. Either we defend the rule of law when it feels inconvenient, or we surrender it when emotions run high.