Nearly two hundred years ago, Prussian philosopher Wilhelm von Humboldt , while education minister, vigorously advocated academic independence. His influence eventually stretched across the Atlantic and laid the foundation for a number of American universities.

DC Gilman, the founder of the Johns Hopkins University, confessing to having been inspired by the Humboldtian ideals, argued that a university must rise above its teaching function by serving simultaneously as a research institute through active participation in the conservation, development and dissemination of knowledge.

Genuine knowledge can only be produced through comprehensive learning, assiduous inquiry, attentive contemplation and public debate. I am rather glad that Professor Abdul Rahman Embong of University Kebangsasan Malaysia (UKM), too, believes it is these elements that make university education higher than education in general, as they 'emancipate our minds from the shackles of closed intellectual caves or mental ghettoes'.

Unfortunately, the Malaysian government, more often than not, tends to bury its head in the sand when confronted with delicate issues, its habitual reminder of the need to respond to the globalisation challenge notwithstanding. Granted, Prussia was never a democratic and liberal state, but at least the ruling elite acknowledged the pivotal role of the academia by conferring the latter the vitally important institutional autonomy under the 1850 constitution.

That our government's attitude towards the intellectual circle trails behind that of the Prussian officials of more than a century ago clearly does not bode well for the country.

In addition, rivalry and power struggle within the academic circle could contribute to the deterioration of intellectual life as well. It is out of this serious concern that Humboldt also warned of jealousy of and exclusion by fellow scholars, which could hinder progress and render the research work ineffective.

Hence, if a certain renowned academician faces pressure from the authorities while voices of support and solidarity from his or her peers are in short supply, such selfish attitude deserves greater criticism from society, not less.

Meanwhile, living in a relatively conservative society, one must not underestimate the obstacles posed by the social elite which may not tolerate views that are seen as "politically incorrect".

Society must through concerted effort create an environment that will allow the academicians and scholars to carry out research without fear and favour, while permitting them the freedom to work beyond traditional or fashionable trends, as well as to challenge the mainstream view, received wisdom and stereotyped thought.

Creative scholarship and original research will remain only a pie in the sky as long as society is unable to appreciate the spirit of critical thinking and the right to doubt. We would then be no more than a partner in crime alongside the state in producing what my fellow columnist Sim Kwang Yang describes as "one-dimensional thinking reeds".

It is also a duty

Furthermore, academic freedom is a right as well as a duty, but such freedom has no bearings on a scholar who is not interested in seeking the truth. Therefore, expectations should be raised as far as state universities are concerned, as they are set up with public monies to serve the public interests.

Whether or not the research outcome is palatable to us should be a matter of public debate and open discussion. It is hence most ignorant, arrogant and irresponsible of the BN government to demand, with no convincing reasons and basis, that the public accept its statistics as the most accurate and final.

Fortunately, Dr Lim Teck Ghee's dignified resignation statement shows that Malaysia is not entirely devoid of courageous scholars. Dr Lim's sudden popularity with the Chinese community is no doubt a result of the fact that the Asli report resonated with the decades-long grouses of the Chinese Malaysians. Be so as it may, we must not forget Malaysia has indeed produced a good number of honest and faithful academicians over the years.

Dr Syed Husin Ali, for one, stood in solidarity with the student activists of the 1970s and paid the heavy price under the draconian Internal Security Act. Meanwhile, Professor Ramasamy, never shying away from criticising crony capitalism in Malaysia, saw his contracts shortened and restricted by UKM ad nauseam.

Professor KS Jomo, who according to a former UM lecturer single-handedly upheld the reputation of the economics faculty, faithfully guarded the increasingly limited space conceded to him by the bureaucrats until he was hunted away by the United Nations.

The concerns of these academicians may not directly link to the immediate interests of the Chinese community, yet their courage to stand the ground deserves equal recognition and respect if not more.

These fine examples remind me of He Lin, a celebrated Chinese philosopher during the Nationalist era, who in On Scholarship and Politics made a trenchant argument that 'a government's respect for scholarship is akin to nurturing the energy of the nation; a scholar's respect for scholarship is akin to, in a minimal sense, respecting personal integrity and, in a maximal sense, cultivating a lifeblood of the world'.

Naturally, any discussion on the decline of Malaysia's higher education will not be complete without touching on the single most important factor: the omnipresence of party politics, which has twisted the original university ethos beyond recognition.

The BN government's introduction of Aku Janji is a case in point. It is also not to be forgotten that any extra courses by the state to unite the various races in campus are often conducted to inculcate a certain racist ideology.

While Umno sees state universities as political assets, the MCA, MIC and Gerakan, too, are in haste to make use of university education as a quick way to accumulate political mileage. Still, if the ruling parties have been able to turn tertiary education into a political pawn without being punished at the ballot box, it is perhaps instructive of the reality that the downward spiral of Malaysia's higher education could only be arrested by extraordinary means.

As I was reading The Declaration of Educational Independence , a seminal article by Tsai Yuan-Pei, then President of Peking University, I was immensely struck by how relevant his words are in today's Malaysia.

Tsai, admonishing the interference of political parties in education, warned that, Education must, of its own accord, seek to strike a balance between individuality and collectivity. Yet political parties hope to create a certain kind of collectivity and to eliminate individuality.

Being apolitical

For instance, they may encourage the people to be friendly with a certain country and to be hostile to another. Or they may attempt to assimilate the culture of one race with the culture of another. Nowadays, political parties, more often than not, have such policy in mind. It would be a great harm should this be extended into education.

Never in Mr Tsai's wildest dreams did he realise his warning for the Nationalist politicians of the 1920s was so scarily prophetic of the state of education in contemporary Malaysia.

In this regard, He Lin, too, issued a stern warning to the politicians, saying, "a government that respects scholarship is a government that is grateful for the sources of its own strength; a government that seeks to nurture and nourish its own roots.

On the contrary, a government that is despicable of scholarship will gradually become uninitiated and benighted, eventually bereft of law and order to follow, which could lead to its own downfall in not too distant future".

It is high time the BN government implement a meritocratic system that takes into consideration applicants' disadvantaged background, while learning to foster a culture of respect for scholars who are recruited on merit.

As such, Malaysia could at least look forward to a world-class institute of higher learning in the fashion of the Humboldt University of Berlin of the Prussian era that was renowned for serious scholarship the modern-day counterparts being Peking and Tsinghua Universities.

Alternatively, the ruling coalition could confer autonomy to universities so that their operation can transcend party politics. A high level vocational training institute does have its functions, but one cannot expect it to evolve into a university without academic autonomy and a determination to make serious and independent research a core part of its purposes.

As Mei Yi-Chi, President of Tsinghua University of the 1930s and 40s, famously remarked, a university is not about having grand buildings to impress others, but whether or not it can attract and retain great scholars in the pursuit of knowledge and its development.

The top and best minds in the Malaysian academic circle can easily find an institute worldwide in which their talents will be most appreciated and valued, but we should at least have the interest of the current and the future generations of students in mind.

If our government is indeed sincere in promoting higher education, it should do so without betraying the very purposes for which universities are established in the first place.

Malaysia's higher education: how high can it be? (Pt I)