The Malaysian dilemma of socio-economic cleavages paralleling ethnic lines is not unique. This too is an American dilemma, and that of many other nations.

With the artificial drawings of political boundaries and the massive migrations of people in the last century, few countries have ethnically and culturally homogenous populations. Thus the Malaysian experience has worldwide relevance.

The best correlate of socio-economic development is the level of education. This is true within and between nations.

In Malaysia educational achievement is racially skewed across its three main racial groups, with the Malay (or Bumiputra) majority lagging behind the Chinese and Indian minorities. Malaysia's major instrument in remedying these inequities is its preferential policies.

As in America, affirmative action, despite having been part of the political and social landscape for decades, still incites passion.

While in America the debates are open, in Malaysia the authorities have declared the issue is either settled or "racially sensitive," and thus beyond the pale of public discussions.

Rigid quotas

Let me highlight the points I wish to make.

First, Malaysia has an aggressive affirmative action in the form of rigid quotas and special set-aside programs not o­nly in education but also in the rest of the public sector. The private sector is free from such encumbrances.

Second, the robust private sector together with the rapid growth of public universities vastly expanded opportunities and thus greatly softens the discriminatory impact of affirmative action.

Third, there is general acknowledgment that the education system has deteriorated to a critical level that it impairs the country's competitiveness. This decline has little to do with affirmative action rather with the basic flaws in policies, in particular the neglect of English and the emphasis o­n religion.

Fourth, affirmative action was highly successful in its first decade in reducing the perception as well as the reality of inequities but is now fast degenerating into a massive entitlement programme.

Fifth, the various programmes under affirmative action are expensive and consume more than their fair share of resources to the detriment of the rest of the system.

Sixth, affirmative action contributes to the creation of a parallel and mutually exclusive educational system that further divides the nation. This educational dualism is more significant than the decline in quality. In a plural society, the fostering of a common identity must be a crucial function of the education system.

Last, any major social initiative requires periodic evaluations. For if it is successful, then the underlying premises and assumptions would no longer exist and the programme should therefore be terminated or at least modified to meet the new realities.

Alternatively, if the programme has failed, then all the more it should be re-examined.

A generation ago, the giving of a scholarship to a Malay meant almost certainly the recipient would be someone poor, from the village, and the first in his family to finish high school. Today that probability has dropped to less than 30-40 percent.

Inequities in education

Let me begin with a personal anecdote. When my children were in high school here in California, I was quite active in the affairs of their school, attending board meetings and such-like activities.

It was during the first Gulf War, and like today the state was facing a severe budget crunch. The board was contemplating cutbacks in many areas, especially Advance Placement (AP) classes because of their dwindling enrollment.

At o­ne such meeting I was vigorously defending AP classes, arguing that our children should be given the same opportunities as those in Saratoga and Palo Alto. Otherwise they would opt for private schools and the district would be the loser.

I then went o­n rather foolishly to suggest that we should instead cut the football programme. You can imagine the ensuing uproar!

Incidentally the star quarterback of the high school team then was o­ne Jeff Garcia, now with the 49ners. So you can understand the passion.

The most cutting remark however, was that of a matronly lady who suggested that the board should indeed cut AP classes. Those classes were small anyway and, she disdainfully added while eyeing me coldly, filled with o­nly white and Asian kids!

That precipitated yet another shouting contest.

As I listened to the heated discussions rapidly degenerating, I could not help thinking that I had heard them all before, but somewhere else. For me it was dj vu all over again, to quote Babe Ruth.

When I was at McGill in 1970, the impassioned and strident debates then were o­n the lack of French-Canadians at that institution. Indeed o­n my first day there I was greeted by rowdy street demonstrations with signs like " Francais Oui! Anglais Non !"

And being at the then deeply Anglo-Saxon institution, I too quickly learned to stereotype the French-Canadians. If o­nly they quit their mindless memorising of their catechisms and study calculus instead, more would be admitted to McGill!

Further away in time and place, while I was growing up in Malaysia in the 1950's, the consuming debate then was o­n the lack of Malays in higher education, specifically the sciences.

The figure often quoted by the politicians then was that there were o­nly three Malay science graduates!

This out of a population of three million o­ne in a million! You can imagine that just like my later California experience, passions were high and rhetoric free flowing when such issues were discussed.

Inequalities in education, specifically differences in educational achievements, generate such strong emotions because we implicitly recognise that they are reflective of a much greater socioeconomic inequities.

Socially and demographically, Malaysia is more like Canada, specifically Quebec, rather than America, where the numerically and politically dominant French-Canadians lag the economically dominant English minority.

In Malaysia it is the Malay-Muslim majority lagging behind the Chinese and Indian minorities. The situation is the reverse in America where minority groups lag behind the majority.

Discussions o­n preferential policies usually revolve around equity versus quality. I will trace the evolution of Malaysian education from its pre-affirmative action period to the present, paying close attention to the two issues. Additionally I will also examine its role in integrating and fostering a common Malaysian identity.

The British Period (Up to 1957)

The British period was characterised by the wholesale importation of the English system. The textbooks were the same o­nes used in Britain, with Malaysians eagerly learning about the English countryside and memorising Wordsworth beautiful poetry but knowing little of their own backyard or literature.

The outstanding feature of the English schools was quality; it was simply superb. Students sat for the same public examinations as those in Britain, and when they did well they were assured that they would excel anywhere.

A measure of the quality of my school at the time was that my headmaster had a PhD from London University, my English teacher was as Oxonian, and my math teacher from Cambridge.

Imagine if you will a school in Los Banos or Susanville, with a principal from Stanford, the English teacher from Harvard or Princeton, and Math teacher from MIT.

One of the English teachers in my other school (he taught the upper class) was o­ne Mr Tony Wilson. He is now more known by his pen name Anthony Burgess, the author of among others, Clockwork Orange .

A while back I read his delightful autobiography, Little Wilson and Big God , where he recounted his teaching experience in Malaysia. I dearly wish to meet him now and tell him, "So that's what you really thought of us in those days!"

The major criticism of those English schools was o­ne of equity and accessibility. First they were too few, just enough to satisfy the social conscience of the colonial rulers and to produce the necessary functionaries to run the country for the colonial office.

Second, these schools were not free. In addition to the tuition there were miscellaneous fees for sports, library and other expenses that quickly added up.

Third, these schools were located in major towns, thus rural students had the added cost of transportation substantial for any family but more so for poor rural folks. Urban pupils were of course spared this added expense.

Thus these schools were out of reach for the overwhelming number of Malays. We can imagine the racial implication of such inequities.

There was o­ne other significant factor that made these schools unattractive to Malay-Muslims. Many were church sponsored and had such names as The Convent of the Holy Infant Jesus.

Students were also made to sing hymns and memorise catechisms.

Despite such huge cultural barriers, many Malay parents still willingly sent their children to such schools.

The few who attended such "convents" dared not wear necklaces for fear of being mercilessly teased for having the crucifix. And when they do have a necklace, they would pull it out to show us otherwise, and we young boys would get a chance for an illicit peek.

There was another reason for the superb quality. As these schools were few in number, they attracted o­nly the most motivated. Besides, those who failed in the earlier grades were already kicked out. There was no second chance. The final product had been ultra filtered.

These English schools had a more significant and lasting impact o­n the future of Malaysia, and this was not by design. As they were fully integrated, attracting students from all communities, the students bonded with each other. They were spontaneously creating their own nascent Malaysian identity. Later as leaders of their respective communities, they were able to suppress their parochialism and work together for a common cause: Malaysia's independence.

Even though their followers in their respective racial groups distrusted each other greatly, but because these leaders had genuine friendship and affection for each other, they were able to bring along their followers.

In addition to English schools there were also vernacular schools, but they played marginal roles.

Judging o­n quality, equity and identity, English schools were unquestionably tops o­n the first, extremely poor o­n the second, and surprisingly successful in the third.

Post-British Period (1957-1970)

This was a period of vastly expanded opportunities. The nation's first prime minister Tunku Abdul Rahman or Tunku as he was affectionately called, declared right away that he was interested in building classrooms, not barracks; and training teachers, not soldiers.

Spared of an expensive military budget courtesy of a defence treaty with Britain, Tunku was able to build schools and train teachers o­n a scale unimaginable.

To demonstrate his commitment, Tunku selected his dependable and brilliant deputy Tun Abdul Razak to be in charge.

Razak began by undertaking a massive survey of children who would be eligible to enter school in the next few years, an exercise he termed Operation Torch. Appropriate enough, as it would later bring light to an entire generation.

I was then about 12 years old. I remember vividly following the village headman going from house to house counting preschool bodies, tagging their foreheads with waterproof ink so they would not be counted twice.

Razak could of course have taken the easy route out and simply checked the birth registry, but he was too smart a man to rely o­n the official data.

That registration exercise was just the beginning. Then came a frantic building spree that saw the mushrooming of schools literally everywhere, especially in rural areas.

You travelled in the remote corners of Malaysia and the common sights were new schools and teachers' quarters being built. In the seven-mile bus ride from my home to school, there were no less than five new schools being built, including o­ne secondary school. Amazing!

Obviously there were huge unmet needs that were previously totally ignored by the colonial office.

Even more impressive, these constructions were all internally financed; there was no foreign aid or borrowing. This early commitment to basic education contributed immensely to Malaysia's later spectacular economic performance.

Razak also produced his Razak Report aimed at creating a common Malaysian identity through a common curriculum and syllabus, and mandating Malay as a compulsory subject in all schools.

Unfortunately there was no comparable expansion at the tertiary level. The reasons for this were many, but lack of funding was not o­ne of them. Rather it had everything to do with the elitist mindset in the academy at the time that equated expansion with dilution.

Malaysian intellectuals then were obsessed that their sole university must be a jungle version of Oxford and Cambridge. The idea of democratisation, or higher education for the masses, was not quite yet acceptable.

Everyone was obsessed with maintaining "quality," which in their little minds meant nothing more than scarcity. The political leadership could do nothing as the university enjoyed considerable autonomy.

The result was a choking bottleneck at this level. The rich could send their children abroad and thus were spared the stress. The rest however, had to fight for the scarce slots.

Naturally this favored the status quo; that is students from the established schools. In 1967 for example, over 80 percent of the undergraduate freshmen came from o­nly eight schools the established urban o­nes. This was at a time when there were already nearly 50 high schools.

Few paid any attention to these glaring inequities and inequalities, least of all the academics. This educational divide between urban and rural, old versus new schools was nothing more than a surrogate indicator of a much larger and more dangerous racial divide.

Another glaring statistic to illustrate this point: In 1967, Malays made up less than 15 percent of the undergraduates while constituting about 55 percent of the population.

The science, engineering, and medical faculties of the local university were the exclusive preserve of non-Malays both in students and faculty. The few Malays who were admitted were made to feel as if they did not belong there!

Politically convenient

The greatest anxiety among Bumiputra high school students in the 1950s, especially those who wanted to be engineers and doctors, was that we would end up at the local university. We were simply terrified of this prospect.

Stories abounded of Malay students who flunked the local university o­nly to excel when they went abroad. Two of my Malay friends failed even to get admitted locally, but somehow they managed to get accepted abroad. And both ended up with their PhDs in the sciences.

Lest we think that this was a peculiarly Malaysian aberration, remember this was the 1950s and 60s. Think back of what America was at that time, and not just in the Deep South.

When those in leadership positions ignored such problems, others less responsible gladly took the opportunity to champion the issues. Thus entered the ultra-nationalists, chauvinists and outright racists.

They were aided by opportunistic and ambitious politicians who may not have been racist at heart but nonetheless found that riding the charged issues was politically convenient and career enhancing.

The result was an increasingly divisive, shrill and coarse public discourse that culminated with the race riot of 1969 that shocked the young nation and nearly tore it apart.

The post British period continued the British pattern of minimal or no preferential treatment. The rapid expansion of the system meant that there was inevitable decline in quality.

This was to be expected as now education was no longer meant for the select few. The system was definitely more equitable at the school level, but unacceptable inequity remained at the university level.

The integrative role of education in creating a common identity was deliberate instead of an unintended by-product as with the earlier British period.

Part II will be published tomorrow .