DECEMBER 27 — For decades, security studies have come to dominate how terrorism and violent extremism are interpreted, categorised, and discussed, often to the exclusion of legal, social, and victim-centred perspectives. This dominance has not extended to all forms of violence, but it has been particularly pronounced in cases that are politically charged, spectacular, or emotionally disturbing. In this space, complex incidents are increasingly framed through a security lens, leading to instances where acts are mislabelled or misidentified as terrorism even when they do not meet the legal threshold.

This shift matters. Terrorism is not a descriptive label; it is a legal classification with profound consequences. When security narratives displace legal analysis, the distinction between ordinary criminal violence and terrorism becomes blurred. The result is over-securitisation, where exceptional legal frameworks are applied to cases that should properly be addressed within ordinary criminal law.

Recent experience across Asia and Australasia illustrates this danger clearly. In several high-profile incidents, including mass stabbings and lone-actor attacks in public spaces, early media and online commentary rushed to frame the violence as terrorism. In some cases, investigations later confirmed the absence of ideological motivation, organisational links, or intent to intimidate the public or coerce the state. Factors such as acute mental illness, personal grievance, or domestic circumstances proved central. Yet the initial terrorism framing had already shaped public perception, policy debate, and calls for exceptional legal responses.

At its most dangerous, this trend negates fundamental rights. The presumption of innocence, the right to due process, proportional sentencing, and protection against arbitrary detention are all weakened when the “security” label is applied prematurely or inaccurately. Law ceases to function as a system of principled adjudication and instead becomes reactive, punitive, and fear-driven.

This approach is also deeply unfair to victims. When violence is hastily framed as terrorism, victims risk being reduced to symbols within a security narrative rather than recognised as individuals who have suffered specific and personal harms. Their cases become instruments for broader political messaging, rather than processes aimed at truth, accountability, and justice. In such moments, the law risks becoming performative - more concerned with appearing tough than with being just.

Across the region in 2025, public outrage following horrific acts of violence has been both understandable and intense. But moral panic must never dictate legal classification. Experience shows that fear-driven responses distort evidence, encourage overcharging, and legitimise shortcuts that ultimately damage institutional credibility and public trust. Once the terrorism label is invoked, it is extraordinarily difficult to reverse, even when subsequent facts do not support it.

Counter-terrorism laws were designed for exceptional circumstances. They are not meant to be default responses to violence, no matter how brutal. Their application must be confined to cases where the act clearly demonstrates the defining elements of terrorism - ideological motivation, intent to intimidate or coerce a population or government, and a demonstrable nexus to organised extremist objectives. Violence alone is not enough.

The risks of mislabelling are especially acute when children in conflict with the law are involved. In some recent cases, minors implicated in violent conduct were publicly framed through a terrorism or national security lens at an early stage, despite their age, vulnerability, and the absence of confirmed extremist intent. This is legally and ethically indefensible. 

Children accused of serious offences remain entitled to heightened protection, rehabilitation-oriented justice, and procedural safeguards under domestic juvenile justice laws and international standards. Premature securitisation collapses these protections and exposes children to stigma and punitive treatment that undermine both justice and long-term public safety.

Determining whether the legal threshold for terrorism has been met is not the role of commentators, scholars, or members of the public relying on fragments of information, hearsay, or social media narratives. Such determinations rest with front-line enforcement officers who have access to intelligence, evidence, and operational context, and ultimately with the Attorney General’s Chambers, exercising prosecutorial discretion within constitutional and statutory limits. Anything else risks replacing legal judgment with speculation.

Equally concerning is the proliferation of self-proclaimed “security analysts” and “experts” who publicly label incidents as terrorism without accountability or regulatory oversight. Individuals who claim military or security expertise without proper licensing or recognition by defence authorities contribute not to clarity but to confusion. Their commentary, often amplified by media platforms, distorts facts, fuels moral panic, and exerts undue pressure on institutions to securitise cases prematurely.

This is not merely a problem of poor analysis; it is a threat to the rule of law. When exceptional labels are normalised, exceptional powers follow. Over time, counter-terrorism law is diluted, victims are instrumentalised, children are improperly criminalised, and justice is compromised.

True security is not achieved by stretching legal definitions beyond recognition. It is achieved through disciplined restraint, institutional competence, and a clear separation between ordinary criminal justice and genuinely exceptional threats. Counter-terrorism law must remain exceptional, evidence-based, and legally grounded, or it risks losing both legitimacy and purpose.

When security labels replace legal judgment, justice becomes collateral damage and neither society nor victims are safer for it.

* Dr Haezreena Begum Abdul Hamid is a Criminologist and Senior Lecturer at the Faculty of Law, Universiti Malaya, Kuala Lumpur and may be reached at haezreena@um.edu.my 

** This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail.