
Today marks one week since journalist Haresh Deol was beaten in broad daylight in Bangsar, yet the story has shifted more than the facts.
First, the police said it was “personal”. Then it became “mistaken identity”.
Now a previously unreported detail complicates both versions: minutes before the attack, Haresh had walked out of a 2pm meeting at Alexis Bistro with several figures linked to the national football scene.
He left the Jalan Telawi outlet around 3.25pm. The assault followed within minutes. That window is too tight to ignore.
Earlier that afternoon, Haresh knowing there were two Alexis outlets in Bangsar phoned his contact to confirm which one.
Yet the attackers seemed to know precisely where he would be and were already in position.
He was approached almost immediately after exiting, attacked in a swift, coordinated manner, and left on the ground while his belongings remained untouched.
Nothing suggests opportunism. Everything suggests a target.
It is learnt that the man who pleaded guilty admitted he did not know Haresh and expected payment.
He said a long-time friend had instructed him, alleging Haresh harassed his wife.
It is also understood he did not travel to Bangsar on his own; someone picked him up, provided transport, and told him to ride the bike.
That sounds like coordination, not spontaneous anger.
Yet police floated the “personal” angle early on, apparently relying mostly on the attacker’s unverified claim.
Such a characterisation shapes public perception and can shadow the victim.
Haresh, married to fellow journalist Pearl Lee, has categorically denied any knowledge of the alleged dispute.
No evidence has been presented publicly to support the claim.
So key questions arise: Was the allegation checked before it was aired? Was any link established between the alleged couple and Haresh?
And if not, why was a damaging insinuation allowed to circulate?
The storyline has since shifted to “mistaken identity”. But that raises deeper uncertainties.
If he was not the intended target, then who was?
And how does “mistaken identity” sit alongside accounts that one attacker appeared to know Haresh’s vehicle and movements?
Who exactly was being watched that afternoon, and by whom?
A third individual, described by a witness as a Malay male calmly recording the assault, remains unidentified.
There is no public confirmation that investigators have secured his mobile phone, a potentially crucial source of evidence. That is not a small omission.
What happened around that table?
Equally important is what happened before the assault. The Alexis meeting remains an unaddressed piece of the puzzle.
Have police:
- Reviewed CCTV from inside Alexis and along Jalan Telawi?
- Spoken to everyone at that meeting?
- Determined whether Haresh was watched or followed from inside or outside the premises?
These are not speculative leaps. They are essential steps when timing is this precise.
The broader context matters too. Haresh has published critical reporting on governance and decision-making in Malaysian sports, including football administration and the naturalisation of foreign-born players.
His work has reached corners of the system that prefer shadows.
No one has established a link between his journalism and the attack, but any serious investigation must consider whether threats, warnings or patterns of intimidation existed.
As things stand, the public must reconcile several stark facts:
- One man has pleaded guilty to a paid assault and is now on bail.
- Two accomplices remain unaccounted for.
The motive has pinballed from “personal” to “mistaken identity”.
And a meeting minutes before the attack, attended by figures tied to the football landscape has barely been acknowledged.
Fear and uncomfortable questions
Through all this, Haresh, a seasoned journalist and family man, is now forced to think about the safety of his loved ones and himself.
With accomplices still out there, one assailant admitting to acting for money, and the motive unresolved, that fear is not abstract. It is rational.
This is no longer just about a brutal battering in Bangsar.
It is about whether the authorities are willing to confront inconvenient questions, avoid premature labels, and follow the evidence wherever it leads, even if that path unsettles familiar comfort zones.
“Personal” or “mistaken identity” cannot stand as throwaway explanations.
They shape investigative direction, influence public understanding, and carry real consequences for the victim.
Until the questions surrounding the Alexis Bistro meeting, the unidentified accomplices, and the true motive are addressed openly and thoroughly, this case cannot be considered close to resolution.
A week on, it remains incomplete. It remains troubling.
And it demands far more than silence.
The views expressed are those of the writer and do not necessarily reflect those of FMT.