Unlearning Prejudice in the Age of Digital Lies

28 March 2025
11:39 am

Written by Izzah Dejavu

Where does the line between truth and falsehood lie in this digital age? The internet, once hailed as a democratising force¹, is now a battleground where competing narratives² fight for dominance. More than ever, we are not just divided by race, class, or demography, but by the very information we consume.³ Misinformation⁴ and disinformation⁵ distort reality—they entrench prejudices, inflame tensions, and carry real-world consequences.

Malaysia is no exception to this global phenomenon. In 2019, the “Buy Muslim First”⁶ movement gained momentum amid rising racial and religious anxieties. Right-wing politicians, conservative NGOs, and religious preachers like Zakir Naik⁷ further inflamed these divides, turning them into a battleground of cultural identity, ideological conflict, and digital vigilantism⁸. Over time, the polarisation manifested in the rise of coded racial slurs— “Type M,” “Type I,” and “Type C”⁹—used online to label Malays, Indians, and Chinese. The controversy reached a boiling point when a fried chicken business used the derogatory term “Type C” in response to a customer’s comment¹⁰, reigniting public outrage over racial discourse in Malaysia. Just weeks earlier, a corn vendor went viral for displaying a racial slur at his stall.¹¹

These incidents are not isolated but are symptoms of a deeper, ongoing issue. Social media acts as both an amplifier and an accelerant, turning whispers into national debates where outrage spreads faster than facts. When the truth catches up, the damage is already done—fracturing communities and reinforcing divisions that take far longer to mend.

What Is Repeated Often Enough Becomes Accepted Truth

Beyond isolated incidents, a more insidious force is at play—one that thrives on repetition and digital manipulation. In Malaysia, radicalism does not hide in the shadows—it thrives in the mainstream¹², whether we realise it or not.¹³ Political figures, conservative NGOs, and influencers exploit ethno-religious anxieties¹⁴, turning them into weapons. They cloak their rhetoric in nationalism, but their real impact is the steady erosion of Malaysia’s fragile multi-ethnic, multi-religious society.¹⁵ Malay-Muslim supremacy, anti-minority sentiment, and conspiracy theories intertwine¹⁶, forming a toxic narrative¹⁷ that seeps into everyday conversation.

When lies are repeated often enough, they harden into accepted truths. In Malaysia, the digital ecosystem also fuels this process with algorithm-driven amplification¹⁸ that pushes fringe narratives into mainstream discourse. A codebook¹⁹ by INITIATE.MY maps Malaysia’s digital battlefield, shaped by political flashpoints, revealing that social media—far from being neutral—acts as both an amplifier and enabler containing far-right narratives, propaganda, and incitement to violence. AI-driven algorithms, designed to maximize engagement, prioritize content that is loudest, angriest, and most inflammatory²⁰, regardless of accuracy. As Malaysians are drawn deeper into this digital war, the boundary between online outrage and violent extremism²¹ becomes increasingly blurred.

The Cost of Unquestioned ‘Truths’

This digital battleground is not just theoretical—it has tangible consequences, as explored in A Jar of Light (Balang Terang)²², a short film by Intan Sakinah that lays bare the devastating role of disinformation in reinforcing prejudice. Hate does not emerge in a vacuum. It is cultivated—fed, nurtured, and pruned until it takes on a life of its own, growing into something monstrous. What starts as whispers in digital corridors soon swells into a tidal wave, sweeping through communities with real and lasting consequences. More than just a story, it is a reflection—a mirror of how prejudice is shaped, reshaped, and cemented through disinformation. It asks a crucial question: What if it’s not true?

Disinformation does not simply mislead—it wounds. It does not just distort—it destroys. Trust, reputations, and livelihoods can be reduced to ashes instantly. In Malaysia, a Muslim-majority country, an unsettling paradox persists: a fear of its minorities. This fear is not innate; it is engineered and weaponized through 3R rhetoric²³ (Race, Religion, Royalty), turning identity into political currency.²⁴ The real question is not just about who benefits from this division, but how deep we allow it to sink before we no longer recognize ourselves.

Facebook post for the January 3, 2025, ‘Himpunan Bangkit Ummah’ protest in Malaysia, where right-wing Islamist groups mobilized against the Democratic Action Party (DAP) as part of ongoing efforts to assert cultural dominance through manufactured moral panic.

Unlearning Prejudice and Building a Future Rooted in Truth

Disinformation has the power to divide, thus unlearning prejudice is our only way back. Prejudice does not exist in isolation—it is taught. It seeps in through classrooms, quiet conversations with elders, and viral WhatsApp messages forwarded by well-meaning relatives. Absorbed like air, it becomes second nature—unquestioned and deeply embedded. But if prejudice can be learned, it can also be unlearned.

Unlearning is not a passive process; it demands deep personal reflection and a systemic shift in how we engage with information. It requires dismantling beliefs we have spent lifetimes constructing, confronting the uncomfortable, and asking the hard questions: Who planted this belief? Who benefits from me thinking this way? A meaningful unlearning process forces us to question what we consume, challenge inherited narratives, and resist blind allegiance.

As Audre Lorde²⁵ reminds us, “It is not our differences that divide us. It is our inability to recognize, accept, and celebrate those differences.” The real challenge is not merely acknowledging diversity but refusing to let it be weaponized against us. If there is hope, it lies with the youth. They are not just passive consumers of digital content; they create it, curate it, and challenge it. Hanis, in Balang Terang, embodies this generation—unwilling to accept convenient lies and bold enough to unlearn the biases that cloud our vision.

Izzah Dejavu is a writer and human rights advocate dedicated to advancing social justice through community engagement, public discourse, and activism. She is passionate about gender equality, expanding civic space, and defending human rights—to amplify marginalized voices and challenge oppressive systems.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.