这些日子以来，我越来越常问自己一个问题：马来西亚人究竟从什么时候开始，变得如此不信任彼此？
这并不是因为一场选举、一个政府或某一个政党而突然发生，而是在不知不觉中，经过多年逐渐累积形成的。
我们正在失去一样非常珍贵的东西：信任。
如今，一项政策甚至还没来得及解释，就有人先入为主地认为背后一定隐藏著某种目的；一名公众人物还没说完话，就有人已经认定对方在撒谎；事实还未厘清，我们却急著选择立场。
我们变得更习惯怀疑，而不是倾听，这让我感到担忧，作为一名民选代表，我经常接触来自各行各业的人士。
我遇到担心生活成本上涨的小贩；为寻找理想工作的年轻毕业生；忧虑孩子未来发展的父母；以及努力维持生意的小企业经营者。
虽然他们来自不同背景，但许多人都有一个共同而深沉的疑问：“我们还可以相信谁？”
这个问题，比任何民调结果都更能反映社会真实情况，因为，当人民不再信任制度，他们也会逐渐不相信问题能够被公平解决。当人与人之间失去信任，每一次意见不同都会被视为个人冲突；每一项政策都会引发争议；每一次妥协都会被认为是一种背叛。
一个社会可以承受不同意见，但一个社会很难在缺乏信任的情况下继续前进，信任并不只是相信政治人物，事实上，它远远超越政治。
信任，是相信老师会公平对待每一名学生，不论他们来自什么种族，信任，是相信无论你的身份背景如何，警方都会认真处理你的报案。
信任，是相信商业承诺能够被履行，信任，也是相信当灾难发生时，邻居愿意伸出援手。
这些看似微小的信任行为，正是支撑一个国家的重要力量，我们经常为马来西亚的多元文化感到自豪，这当然是正确的。
但多元本身并不能建立一个国家，信任，才可以。
没有信任，多元会变成恐惧的来源，有了信任，多元将成为我们最大的优势。
重建信任
我在槟城亲眼见证过无数这样的例子，华裔居民协助清真寺举办社区活动；马来志愿者在寺庙活动中派发食物；印度社区领袖与居民协会携手解决社区问题。
在这些时刻，没有人会先询问对方支持谁、投票给谁，才决定是否伸出援手，在基层社会里，马来西亚人往往比政治环境所呈现的更加团结与合作，这也是为什么我依然保持乐观。
因为虽然政治有时候会制造分歧，但日常生活不断提醒我们，普通马来西亚人其实能够展现更好的自己，当然，信任不能被要求，它必须被建立。
政府必须通过透明治理赢得人民信任，制度必须通过一致与公平赢得信任，媒体必须通过准确报道赢得信任。
企业必须通过负责任的行为赢得信任，而政治人物，则不能只靠口号，而必须通过兑现承诺、承认错误，以及即使没有镜头关注时仍然持续服务人民，来赢得信任。
同样的责任，也属于每一个人，在社交媒体时代，我们很容易分享符合自己观点的信息，却越来越难在下判断之前停下来思考。
一个误导性的标题，传播速度往往比事实澄清更快，一个谣言，常常已经传遍千万人群，真相才姗姗来迟。
每一次我们未经查证就转发信息；每一次我们对不同意见的人先入为主地作出最坏判断；每一次我们选择愤怒而不是理解，其实都在无意间加速信任的流失。
这应该引起所有人的关注，因为信任一旦破裂，需要多年才能重新建立，马来西亚目前面对许多真实挑战：
生活成本上涨、教育、医疗、生产力、就业模式改变，以及如何为人工智能时代做好经济准备，这些都是复杂的问题。
连接人与人
但当人民之间已经缺乏足够信任，无法进行坦诚对话时，这些问题将变得更加难以解决，再好的政策，如果人民认为它背后是欺骗，也无法成功。
再好的改革，如果每一项决定都被怀疑，也难以获得公众支持，信任不是一个软性的概念。
信任，是国家发展的基础设施，就如道路连接城市，桥梁连接社区一样，信任连接人与人之间的关系，没有信任，即使最强大的制度也会逐渐削弱。
或许，重建信任可以从一些看似简单的事情开始：在评判之前，先倾听，在分享之前，先查证。
在不同意见中，保持尊重，在证明对方错误之前，先相信对方可能有善意，这些并不是宏大的政治改革，而是我们每天都可以作出的选择。
马来西亚从来不缺人才，我们从来不缺多元文化，我们从来不缺追求进步的动力，也许，我们正在悄悄失去的，是一种看不见，却比任何东西都重要的力量。
信任，不是盲目的信任，也不是毫无条件的信任，而是一种基本的信念——相信眼前的人值得被聆听，而不是立即被批判；相信我们的制度可以改善，而不是简单地否定；相信意见不同，并不代表对方就是敌人。
因为当信任消失，每一次对话都会变成冲突；每一项政策都会被视为阴谋；每一次选举都会成为一场让国家更加分裂的战争。
所以，我想留下最后一个问题：当我们的孩子多年以后回望今天这段马来西亚历史，他们会如何评价我们曾经努力建设的东西？是一个更强大的国家……还是一个拥有更多理由彼此不信任的社会？
瑟丽娜《马来西亚人何时开始不再信任彼此？》原文：When did Malaysians Stop Trusting Each Other?
There is a question I find myself asking more often these days.
When did Malaysians become so suspicious of one another?
It wasn't triggered by one election, one government or one political party. It happened gradually, almost without us noticing.
Over the years, something precious began to wear away.
Trust.
Today, before a policy is even explained, someone assumes there must be a hidden agenda. Before a public figure finishes speaking, someone has already decided they are lying. Before we understand the facts, we rush to choose sides.
We have become quicker to doubt than to listen.
That worries me.
As an elected representative, I spend much of my time meeting people from every walk of life. Hawkers worried about rising costs. Young graduates anxious about finding meaningful work. Parents wondering whether their children will have a better future. Small business owners trying to stay afloat.
Despite their different backgrounds, many of them share the same quiet concern.
"Who can we still believe?"
That question is more revealing than any opinion poll.
Because when people stop trusting institutions, they stop believing that problems can be solved fairly. When people stop trusting one another, every disagreement feels personal. Every policy becomes controversial. Every compromise is seen as betrayal.
A society can survive disagreements.
It struggles to survive without trust.
Trust is not simply about believing politicians. In fact, it goes much further than that.
It is trusting that a teacher will treat every child fairly, regardless of race.
It is trusting that a police report will be taken seriously no matter who you are.
It is trusting that a business deal will be honoured.
It is trusting that your neighbour will lend a helping hand when disaster strikes.
These quiet acts of trust are what hold a country together.
We often celebrate Malaysia's diversity, and rightly so. Yet diversity alone does not build a nation. Trust does.
Without trust, diversity becomes something to fear.
With trust, diversity becomes one of our greatest strengths.
I have witnessed this countless times in Penang.
A Chinese resident helping organise a gotong-royong at a surau. Malay volunteers distributing food at a temple event.
Indian community leaders working alongside residents' associations to solve neighbourhood problems.
No one asks who voted for whom before lending a hand.
On the ground, Malaysians often cooperate far better than our politics suggests.
Perhaps that is why I remain optimistic.
Because while politics sometimes divides us, daily life constantly reminds us that ordinary Malaysians are capable of something better.
Of course, trust cannot simply be demanded. It must be earned.
Governments earn trust by being transparent.
Institutions earn trust by being consistent.
The media earns trust by being accurate.
Businesses earn trust by acting responsibly.
And politicians earn trust not through slogans, but by keeping their promises, admitting mistakes and showing up even when the cameras are gone.
The same responsibility belongs to all of us.
In the age of social media, it has become remarkably easy to share information that confirms our existing beliefs and remarkably difficult to pause before passing judgement.
A misleading headline travels faster than a correction.
A rumour often reaches thousands before the truth catches up.
Every time we forward something without checking it, every time we assume the worst about someone we disagree with, every time we choose outrage over understanding, we contribute—however unintentionally—to the erosion of trust.
That should concern all of us.
Because trust, once broken, takes years to rebuild.
Malaysia faces many real challenges: the cost of living, education, healthcare, productivity, the changing nature of work and preparing our economy for an AI-driven future.
These are difficult problems.
But they become even harder to solve when citizens no longer trust one another enough to have honest conversations.
No policy, however brilliant, can succeed if people believe it was designed to deceive them.
No reform will gain public support if every decision is viewed through the lens of suspicion.
Trust is not a soft idea.
It is national infrastructure.
Just as roads connect towns and bridges connect communities, trust connects people.
Without it, even the strongest institutions begin to weaken.
Perhaps rebuilding trust begins with something surprisingly simple.
Listening before judging.
Checking before sharing.
Disagreeing without dehumanising.
Assuming good intentions until proven otherwise.
These are not grand political reforms. They are everyday choices.
Malaysia has never lacked talent.mWe have never lacked diversity. We have never lacked ambition.
Perhaps what we have been quietly losing is something far less visible, yet far more important.
Trust.
Not blind trust. Not unconditional trust. But the quiet confidence that the person across from us deserves to be heard before being judged. That our institutions can improve rather than be dismissed. That disagreement does not automatically make someone an enemy.
Because once trust disappears, every conversation becomes a confrontation. Every policy becomes a conspiracy. Every election becomes a battle that leaves the country a little more fractured than before.
And that leads me to one final question.
When our children look back at this chapter of Malaysia's history years from now, what will they say we spent our time building?
A stronger nation……
Or simply stronger reasons to distrust one another?
本文观点，不代表《东方日报》立场。
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