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Friday, 30-Jan-2004 10:52 AM Is the Anwar Arsenic poisoning for real or just a great scam? Raja Petra Kamarudin There are some who do not believe Anwar Ibrahim was poisoned in late 1999. Then there are others who have kept an open mind on the matter, not sure whether it is for real or just a great scam. I do not blame them. It is rather hard to believe that anyone would want to do something so stupid as to poison a high-profile political detainee, especially one who the entire world has its eyes on. Well, it is true, it did happen, and maybe it is time to put the sceptics and unbelievers to rest.
I am quite fond of relating my untold stories and many have quietly surfaced over the years. Today, it is time to relate another untold story, the story of Anwar’s Arsenic poisoning. “Why now?” you might ask, so close to the next general election. Is this yet another election ploy? If it is then I should have related it in October 1999, a month before the 29 November General Election where we could have taken the issue to town. No, this is no election gimmick. The only reason only now I am coming out with my story is because those “crucial” people involved have safely left the scene and my expose can no longer do them any harm. The whole episode erupted on Friday, 8 October 1999. I was then working at the Parti Keadilan Nasional (National Justice Party) headquarters when I received a phone call from my “boss” to meet him at the Petaling Jaya Hilton car park. He said he was not able to tell me over the phone what it is about but just go meet him immediately and tell no one where I was going. I was intrigued. It all sounded so mysterious. I rushed to the rendezvous, which is not far from our office, and saw my “contact” lurking between the parked cars. He signalled for me to move to the far end of the car park near the huge pillars propping up the flyover along the Federal Highway and he too moved in the same direction. Hidden behind the pillar, he broke the shattering news to me. It is confirmed; Anwar is being poisoned with Arsenic. They had sent Anwar’s hair, fingernails, blood and urine samples to an overseas laboratory for testing and the results had come back positive. The only thing is they had sent the samples in a fictitious name. Once the results confirmed the poisoning, they obtained another set of samples and this time sent it in Anwar’s name. The police, however, got wind of it, raided the courier company and confiscated the package before it could leave the country. However, what the police did
not know, there was a third set of samples and they needed to get
this out of the country but naturally could not send it by courier
this time. They needed someone to hand-carry it to the laboratory
in Australia. And they certainly could not get one of Anwar’s family
members to do it as they were being watched and if they were to
leave the country they would probably be searched. They needed an
“unknown” to do the deed and did I know of anyone who would dare
take that risk of acting as this courier? I immediately agreed to be that courier. Better I do it then entrust the job to someone else who might get caught. This was the last set of samples and if we fail it would be impossible to obtain another set now that the government was aware of the matter. We walked over to the hotel lobby and asked the concierge to check the flights to Melbourne, Australia. I wanted to leave immediately but the first available flight was Sunday night, 10 October. 48 hours! This was very risky but we had no choice for there were no other flights available. The concierge confirmed the booking. “Your name please.” “Raja Petra Bin Raja Kamarudin,” I replied. “Ah, Raja Petra, are you the Raja Petra who writes for Harakah.” Oops. Our hearts skipped a beat. My boss glanced in my direction and signalled for us to get out of there. We moved a safe distance from the concierge for a conference. “I thought you are unknown,” my boss said. “The concierge knows you. What if he informs the police?” “No problem,” I replied. “The only reason he knows me, and by name only mind you, is because he is one of us and reads the Harakah. I think everything is kosher.” “You can collect your ticket from the nearest airlines office. When do you want to pick it up and how will you be paying?” “I will go now and pick it up from the airport. Oh, and I will be paying cash.” We went back to the car park and my boss handed me a sealed package packed in ice. “You need to keep this is the fridge until you leave for Australia.” “Do I need to carry it on the plane with the ice?” “No need. It should be okay the few hours flight to Melbourne as long as it is kept in the fridge these next two days.” I took the package home and put it in the fridge in my bedroom. “At least one day I can tell our grandchildren we kept Anwar’s piss in our bedroom,” I joked to my wife. But she was not amused. She was worried I might have been followed and that the police might raid our house that night to confiscate the package. Two days later I left for Australia. My heart was beating double time as I checked in. “Are you checking in any luggage?” “No!” I replied. “I will hand carry this.” I was not staying over so the only luggage I had was Anwar’s specimens. I walked through immigration and customs with the package in hand. My heart was beating rapidly all this while. It was not that I was worried about getting arrested but more that if they confiscated this last batch of samples there would be no way to obtain another now that the game is known. But I managed to get through undetected and boarded the plane. I slept the entire flight hugging Anwar’s hair, fingernail, blood and urine samples. I arrived in Melbourne early morning on Monday, 11 October, and had to loiter around the airport a couple of hours. At 9.00am, I phoned my contact, a solicitor. He instructed me to take a taxi to the Melbourne Coroner’s office where he would be waiting for me. I was shown to the lab where the coroner and a couple of lawyers were assembled. They refused to even touch the package I was carrying until a photographer came into the room to photograph it from all angles, especially the seal. The “authorities” from the Malaysian end had sealed the package and the Australians wanted to make sure that the seal had not been broken or tampered with in any way. Once they were satisfied that
the “official” seal was still intact, they broke open the package
and took out the samples. Each move was photographed and recorded
with great detail and everyone in the room had to sign the papers.
These guys were very thorough and the team of lawyers who witnessed
the entire ritual each filed Affidavits testifying as to what happened. There was no way anyone could make any allegations of fraud. “Did you declare the specimens on leaving Malaysia?” the coroner asked me. “Certainly not,” I replied. “Oh, and on entering Australia?” “Also no.” “Hmm, that would be a problem. You see, it is an offence to take human or animal tissue out of the country or into another, especially Australia. You have just committed a crime.” “So, what do we do now?” I asked. “Will you be reporting me?” “Under normal circumstances, yes. But we can quite understand the predicament you are in and the danger you face if you had declared the samples either at your end or on entering Australia.” The coroner and lawyers held a short conference and delivered their verdict. “We will accept these specimens and do the necessary testing. We will then send you the report through the lawyers. But you will have to decide whether to make it public or not. Many people are going to get into trouble if this is made public, especially those in Malaysia who helped smuggle the samples out of the hospital.” Well, the testing was done and it confirmed that Anwar indeed had been poisoned with Arsenic. How it was administered was never established as it could have been done in various ways. In Napoleon’s case, the Arsenic was smeared on the wallpaper in his room. Could this be why they kept painting Anwar’s cell and moved him ever so often into a newly painted cell? I suppose this secret will die with those who had perpetrated the act. And there I was, trustee to one of the biggest secrets in the history of this nation, the attempt to murder the one-time Deputy Prime Minister of Malaysia with Arsenic. Yet there was nothing we could do about it. I was torn between going public or keeping the matter a secret to protect the many people along the way who had participated in this “ criminal conspiracy” of smuggling Anwar’s specimens out of the hospital over to the Melbourne Coroner’s office. But now the secret must no longer remain a secret. The world needs to know the truth now that all my “co-conspirators” are safe where no harm can come to them. If the government would like to dispel what I am testifying to, it can always form a Royal Commission of Inquiry to get to the truth. The records, after all, are still in the Melbourne Coroner’s office. Harakah
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