In striking contrast to the horrendously expensive and unbelievably stupid idea of sending our teacher-trainees to Kirby, the Ministry of Education’s other decision to remove quotas on local enrollment in international schools is very much welcomed and definitely positive. The Minister confidently assured us that because of the small number of students involved, the move will not impact our national schools. I respectfully disagree; his confidence is misplaced and analysis flawed. On the contrary, this measure will have a tremendous impact on our national schools and ultimately the nation, for good or bad depending on how it is managed.

Consider the liberalization of higher education instituted in 1996. The rationale was to increase access and save foreign exchange by keeping at home those who would have gone abroad. It achieved both, the most successful of government initiatives. And it did not cost a sen except for the pay of government lawyers who drafted the enabling legislation.

The policy’s impact however, went far beyond. It permanently and profoundly altered the academic landscape of our public universities. Their current emphasis on the use of English for example, is the consequence of the impact of these private universities. Local employers (other than governmental agencies of course) made it clear that they prefer these graduates over those from public universities because of their demonstrably superior skills in English.

There were initial attempts at imputing ugly racial motives to this preferential treatment of private university graduates as most of them were non-Malays. That worked, but only temporarily. Ultimately the horrible truth was exposed. That realization was the impetus to the current greater use of English in public universities, with their erstwhile nationalistic Vice-Chancellors now fully embracing the move. They had to; the pathetic sight of their unemployed graduates was a constant and painful reminder.

Yes, liberalizing higher education aggravated the inequities between Malays and non-Malays specifically with respect to their employability in the private sector. It did however, forced public universities to change their ways, as with emphasizing English. That ultimately benefited their students who incidentally are mostly Malays.

Removing limits on local enrolment in international schools will have the same profound and irreversible impact on national schools and on Malays. Yes, initially it would aggravate gaps in educational achievements, again especially between Malays and non-Malays, but in the long run it would jolt Malay leaders to make the necessary adjustments to our national schools. Either that or face the prospect of future generations of young Malays doomed to perpetual mediocrity.

Currently the locals in these international schools are children of the super-rich, and thus overwhelmingly non-Malay. Even the upper middle class (with slightly greater Malay representation) could not afford these schools. The concerns expressed that this liberalization would exacerbate educational inequities between rich and poor are therefore valid and reasonable. However, the rich are already different in many other ways; educational advantages for their children would just be another.

It also bears reminding that the impact of any policy is dynamic. Yes, there will be the expected increased inequity initially but with time people adjust and you may get radically different reactions and consequences, as was seen with the earlier liberalization of higher education.

Those harping on inequities ignore economic realities. There is demand for these international schools because they offer quality albeit expensive education. The imposition of quotas only aggravates the situation. Its removal would expand the market, enticing new players. Greater competition puts downward pressure on price, an economic truism that cannot be ignored. This is already happening in Thailand where international schools are found even in small towns and within the financial reach of the middle class, at least those families prudent enough to think of their children’s future and not on current conspicuous consumption. The lower costs in small towns would make these schools even more affordable.

There are three ready markets for international schools. One would be the super-affluent Malaysians who already have children in schools abroad. That however, is a miniscule market; besides, those parents are not likely to change course. The cachet of an overseas education still sells. A much bigger market would be the next tier of the wealthy. Those parents value education and recognize only too readily the inadequacies of local schools. At present they would require special dispensation from the minister and other hurdles in order to enroll their children in international schools; money alone would not do it.

Thus it is not a surprise that local students (especially Malays) in these schools are the children of Malaysia’s “Politburo” members. If you wonder how they could afford the costs based on their parent’s official pay, then you have not appreciated the culture of negotiated contracts, “Approved Permits,” and other quirks of the New Economic Policy, as well as the Malaysian way of doing business.

The third and also sizeable market would be those parents in Johore who now send their children to schools in Singapore. To be sure, Malaysian international schools are still considerably more expensive than the republic’s public schools, nonetheless after factoring in transportation and other costs, quite apart from wasted time and energy in commuting, these parents might well fork out the added expense and opt for the much superior local international schools. After all their reasons for choosing Singapore are to get an education in English and avoid local public schools; Malaysian international schools offer both.

To repeat because of the potential political significance, these three markets are essentially non-Malay. So expect a racial angle to the argument for reinstating the quota. If not handled skillfully, political pressure will build up to jettison the policy. Already the Parent Action Group for Education (PAGE), otherwise made up of liberal professional Malays, is already against the idea though for reasons other than race.

Ironically, PAGE advocates the greater use of English in national schools especially in the teaching of science and mathematics. Perhaps PAGE could be persuaded that international schools are but a backdoor path towards this objective (and beyond), albeit available only to those who could afford it. This path also conveniently sidesteps possible constitutional conundrum of having English-medium public schools. Fortunately, Malay language nationalists are not sophisticated enough to see through this.

In truth, the constitutional hurdle, like all man-made ones, is easily surmountable. Consider that the International Islamic University uses English. It overcomes this legal barrier by being registered under the Ministry of Trade and Industry, not Education, hence exempted from the language rule.

Expanding international schools would be a far superior move than simply bringing back the old English schools or increasing the number of hours devoted to the subject in our national schools, as many including PAGE are advocating. The deficiency with our national schools goes beyond its medium of instruction. International schools (especially those following the American pattern) have a very different curriculum and pedagogical philosophy, far from the stultifying ones that plague national schools.

On a related issue, if there were to be a blossoming of Arabic or Indonesian International Schools as a consequence of this liberalization, with Malays flocking to enroll their children, then we would be no further ahead. Indeed we would regress even worse. The two education systems are not worthy of emulation.

Western international schools enjoy two complementary advantages. One is of course their superior curriculum, facilities and teaching, quite apart from the international ambience. The other and perhaps more important is that the quality of local schools is atrocious. The recent rescinding of the policy of teaching science and mathematics in English only made matters worse. Consider that today’s Malay elite would rather send their children to Garden International School over supposedly exclusive Malay College Kuala Kangsar.

Where public schools are excellent, few locals would opt for private schools, as in Alberta, or international ones as in Finland. The clamor for Malaysians wanting to send their children to international schools reflects a much greater and more basic problem – our lousy national schools. Seen from this angle, for PEMANDU, the government’s transformation program, to view the growth of international schools as positive could only be construed as misplaced and misguided. Only if you are convinced that our national schools are beyond redemption would you consider this a positive development. And I do.

Next: Consequences to the Growth of International Schools

It is incomprehensible that with the Ministry of Education still in the midst of its review of our schools, the Minister and his Deputy saw fit to announce two decisions that could potentially have a profound impact on the system. The first, announced by the Minister, would resurrect the old Kirby/Brinsford Lodge program of the 1950s, and the second, announced by his Deputy, would remove the current quotas on local enrollment in international schools.

Before analyzing the two decisions, it is worth pondering as to why they were made before the completion of this “exhaustive review.” A cynical interpretation would be that the current “review” is nothing more than a charade rather than a serious deliberative process. If that were to be so, then it would be a terrible insult to those distinguished Malaysians who have been co-opted or have volunteered to serve on the panel. On a moral level, it would also be an unconscionable fraud perpetrated upon citizens, especially parents who have been banking on the review to improve our schools.

Another view, equally less charitable, is that the Minister and his Deputy are not fully aware of the potential for enormous consequences of their decisions. A more practical explanation is that both announcements reflect the seat-of-the-pants style of policymaking typical at the upper levels of our government. It would have been more reassuring had both proposals been first vetted by this review committee.

In the absence of the panel’s analysis, I will examine the merits and demerits of the two initiatives, as well as offer my ideas on enhancing both.

Resurrecting Kirby

The old Kirby and Brinsford Lodge program was undeniably superb and successful. Thousands of students benefited from the tutelage and influence of those dedicated professional teachers who were trained at both institutions. Many of those teachers went on for their baccalaureate and graduate degrees to become distinguished Professors of Education at home and abroad, reflecting the high caliber of their talent.

If we wish to resurrect the program it is important to elucidate the many contributing factors to its earlier success. We also have to remember that conditions today are vastly different from those of the 1950s. That may be obvious but is often overlooked. For example, to say that the current Form Five graduates – the potential trainees – are very different from those of the 1950s would be a vast understatement. Thus if we were to send those with Form Five qualifications to Kirby today, the results would also be vastly different if not disastrous.

The success of Kirby and Brinsford Lodge had less to do with their being operated by the British or located in England, rather with the candidates selected to undergo the training. As mentioned earlier, they were simply superior to begin with. It is well to remember that in the 1950s only the top five percent of Fifth Formers could go on to Sixth Form and from there, to universities. The next level would be the potential Kirby candidates; they may not have been at the very top nonetheless they were still high up there above the 90th percentile. I knew a few who were qualified for the local university but instead opted for Kirby simply because of the opportunity to go to England, thus deliberately settling for a teacher’s diploma.

Today however, the top 25 percent of our students are headed for universities. Those left for teacher training would be the next tier, those at the 75th percentile at best. Unless we get the top students – those above the 90th percentile – to go into teacher training, we will never get good, much less great teachers regardless where we train them or by whom.

This is the crucial lesson from countries like Finland that have excellent schools. They get the best students to go into teaching, and the best students make the best teachers. If the lure of spending a few years at Kirby would attract the best and brightest to apply, then by all means resurrect the program. After all, many bright students change their career choices simply because of the opportunity to go abroad. I have met many who dreamed of becoming doctors but instead pursued accounting or engineering simply because of the chance to go abroad.

Economic Aspect of the Proposal

Kirby and Brinsford Lodge had a total of about 600 students at any one time. Let us assume that the cost today would be about RM100K per student per year (a reasonable estimate), for a total of about RM60 million annually. A hefty sum! That is the total outflow of foreign exchange from Malaysia. The money will be spent in Britain with zero multiplier effect in the local Malaysian economy.

Imagine if we were to spend the money differently but for the same purpose and using the same personnel – those British lecturers. Using a faculty/student ratio of 1 to 15 as a guide (comparable to top universities), we would need about 40 professors. With a generous pay package of RM300K per year we would have no difficulty recruiting them. The total cost would then come to about RM12 million annually. With another RM3 million for non-academic support staff, the total payroll would be about RM15 million. We would still have RM45 million remaining!

If we were to pay the trainees RM600 each per month, that would certainly interest top students, and the cost would be just over RM4 million. To entice them even more, incorporate elements of the major matriculation examinations into the curriculum so that these students could sit for their STM, GCE A Level, or SAT tests while in training. Then reward those who are successful with guarantees of scholarships to pursue their degrees in return for their committing to teaching.

Having done all that, we would still have RM41 million left. Out of that I would spend RM6 million for soft costs (food, computers, library books), with RM35 million left over. Assume that to be the annual mortgage payments instead, and spread over 30 years (the typical amortization period for real estate loans) at 4 percent interest rates, you could build a campus costing about RM600 million. Even after accounting for the inevitable leakages through “negotiated tenders” and “facilitation fees” to local politicians, we could still build quite a fancy facility, almost luxurious and definitely far superior to the old barn-like and warehouse structures of old Kirby and Brinsford Lodge.

Then think of the economic impact of RM60 million being spent locally, with the multiplier effect from the construction workers to the gardeners as well as the teh tarik peddlers to the hair dressers. About the only foreign exchange loss would be the remittance by those British professors. After paying for their housing and other living expenses, (which would be high for expatriates), as well as their hefty Malaysian income tax, they would be lucky to have RM40K at the end of the year to send home.

Thus the total outflow of foreign exchange would be under RM2 million in a year. Contrast that to the outflow of RM60 million in cold cash if were to send 600 trainees to Britain; thirty times more expensive! And I have not included the multiplier economic benefits of the RM60 million being spent locally.
There are also other non-economic benefits, the most important being academic and scholarly. Those professors would be interested in doing local research and be consultants to our schools, as well as conduct workshops for the continuing professional education of our teachers. Leading education journals would carry articles with the footnote, “From Kuantan Teachers’ College, Malaysia.”

The Minister’s objective is still being achieved, that is to have Kirby-trained quality of teachers for our schools. The signal difference between my plan and Muhyyiddin’s is that I would import Kirby-quality professors to train our would-be teachers while he would export our students (and precious foreign exchange) to Britain.

Of course Kirby would like us to send our trainees there and would lobby very hard to secure the contract. After all we have seen such august institutions as the London School of Economics engaging in shady deals with Third World dictators like Muammar Ghaddafi to secure lucrative contracts and endowments. Thus expect these Kirby folks to engage in intense lobbying to influence the Minister of Education.

Muhyyiddin feels that the only effective way for our would-be teachers to learn English is to send them to an English-speaking country. I suggest that he visit Tuanku Jaafar College in rural Malay-speaking Mantin, Negri Sembilan. Not only do those students speak impeccable English, they also have acquired some of the finer Anglo Saxon habits. It would not surprise me that they prefer tea and crumpets for their afternoon snacks!

Those students sent to Kirby in the 1950s were already well versed with matters English, at least in theory from their textbooks. They may be ignorant of the practical aspects as with using knives and forks, chewing with their mouths closed, and not burping after dinner, nonetheless their English fluency enabled them to learn and adapt quickly. Thus it did not take them long to appreciate Beethoven as much as dondang sayang, their tea and crumpets as much as teh tarik and pisang goreng! Sending our students to Kirby today would only aggravate their culture shock. Far from enjoying and benefiting from the English ambience, they would recoil and retreat to their little kampong on campus.

It was unbelievably stupid and fiscally irresponsible for Muhyyiddin to put forth that proposal. I began by suggesting that he may be unaware of the potential consequences, monetary and otherwise, and that his announcement merely reflected the seat-of-the-pants modus operandi at upper levels of our government. Perhaps there is a more mundane explanation. Sending our trainees to Britain would be the perfect excuse for Ministry officials to make frequent “official” tours there. It that be the reason, it could easily be remedied; give those senior officers paid annual trips to Britain. That would be considerably cheaper.

Next week: Liberalization of International School Enrollment A Positive Development

First of Two Parts: Seeing The Bright Side
(Next Week: Part Two: Lessons To Be Learned)

In the aftermath of the largest public demonstrations against the Barisan government, the officials’ obsession now turns to the exercise of apportioning blame and the associated inflicting of vengeance. Both are raw human reactions, but hardly enlightening, sophisticated, or even fruitful. Besides, there is plenty of blame to go around. I prefer to look at the bright side and on the lessons that can be learned.

BERSIH 3.0 clearly demonstrates that Malaysians no longer fear the state. In that regard we are a quantum leap ahead of the Egyptians under Mubarak, the Iraqis under Saddam, or the Chinese under Mao (or even today). When citizens are no longer afraid of the state, many wonderful things would follow. BERSIH is also the first successful multiracial mass movement in Malaysia. In a nation obsessed with and where every facet is defined by race, that is an achievement worthy of note. Another significant milestone, again not widely acknowledged, is that the movement is led by a woman who is neither Malay nor a Muslim. Ambiga Sreenevasan broke not one but three Malaysian glass ceilings!

On a sour note, BERSIH 3.0 revealed that Barisan leaders (and a few from the opposition) have yet to learn and accept the fundamental premise that dissent is an integral part of the democratic process, and expressing it through peaceful assembly a basic human right. At a more mundane level though no less important, the authorities’ performance in BERSIH 3.0 also exposed their woeful incompetence and negligence in basic crowd control.

In any mass rally you expect a minority to get carried away or be willfully indulging in criminal acts. It is the duty of the authorities to prevent and apprehend them, but not to use that as justification to treat as criminals the vast majority who are otherwise peaceful, or for the police to behave like criminals in responding.

To keep things in perspective, and with no intent to insult those injured, whose properties were damaged, and those otherwise inconvenienced, the mayhem last Saturday was no worse than that following an American college championship game. More to the point, considering the vastly much larger crowd and the much more pivotal issues at stake, no lives were lost.

Discerning The Winners and Losers

As with a college championship game, there were definite winners – and champions – from last Saturday’s contest. As for the losers, there were plenty of them too. If you were to appear late on the scene or just a distant observer like me, it would not be terribly difficult to figure out who were the new champions and who were the sore losers just by watching their reactions.

It was a tribute to BERSIH’s leaders that they did not gloat – the hallmark of genuine champions. They remained cool and confidently went on to target their next trophy, the removal of the Chairman and Vice-Chairman of the Elections Commission for the pair’s blatant political partisanship by being, among others, UMNO members.

Although BERSIH was a coalition of NGOs, it nonetheless welcomed participation from all, including members of political parties. Thus there were generous representations from the opposition as they too shared BERSIH’s objective of clean and fair elections. Again it was a tribute to BERSIH’s enlightened and sophisticated leadership that it welcomed their participation and did not try to control or otherwise censor their speeches and actions. BERSIH leaders respected individual freedom, again reflecting their maturity and sophistication.

As for the political players on either side of the issue, we too could also easily discern the winners and losers among them. KEADILAN’s leader Anwar Ibrahim described the event as a “celebration of unity, an awakening for liberation. [It] … shall go down in the nation’s history as Merdeka Rakyat when 300,000 spoke in one voice to demand a free and fair election. …. [Those who] came down in full force were encouraged by a sense of justice to demand liberation from usurpers. Their message cannot be mistaken – a free country cannot be enslaved anymore.”

He continued, “BERSIH 3.0 represents the hopes and dreams of all Malaysians that the political legitimacy of any government in the future can only be attained through a genuine democratic process.” That is the confident voice of a winner.

Contrast that to the reactions of the Prime Minister, his Deputy Muhyyiddin, and Home Minister Hishammuddin. Muhyyiddin was first to the draw, threatening to make BERSIH pay for the damages, presumably including those caused by those ubiquitous razor fences, tear gas explosions, and blasting water cannons. For his part, Hishammuddin contemptuously dismissed the smashing of journalists’ cameras as “standard operating procedure,” only to be contradicted later by his Chief of Police. As many later found out, the police smashed more than just cameras.

Najib’s hospital visit to the injured journalist Radzi Razak was a gracious personal touch. However, the heavily-covered media event backfired as it revealed too much. Radzi’s facial expression during Najib’s nearly quarter-of-an-hour monologue where he (Najib) apparently apologized to the injured reporter showed that he (Radzi) was anything but comforted by the Prime Minister’s presence or words. Later Najib blasted the demonstrators for not respecting a court order banning entry into Dataran Merdeka, conveniently forgetting his administration’s contempt for citizens’ right to peaceful assembly. The irony of the venue; Dataran Merdeka – Freedom Square!

In short, the political trio of Najib, Muhyyiddin and Hishammuddin behaved like typical losers, consumed with blaming others and seeking vengeance. They were not unlike the three blind mice running around as if BERSIH had cut off their tails. The trio may not be blind but they certainly behaved like three myopic mice, unable to see beyond their whiskers.

Futility of the “Blame Game”

Trying to apportion blame at this stage of the game, even when attempted by well-meaning and neutral observers, is a futile exercise. When done by political hacks, as most surely it would, the exercise would serve only to aggravate old wounds.

When you have dry rubbish strewn all over, cans of gasoline purposely left open, and match boxes recklessly tossed around, the question of who lit the first matchstick becomes irrelevant. There will always be someone who saw somebody else who struck a match earlier. Then the analyses and debates would quickly degenerate into the minutiae of determining the exact seconds or minutes, or interpreting what certain gestures and phrases may or may not mean in the heat of the occasion. Indeed such a puerile exercise is already well underway, and worse, it is being taken seriously by the authorities!

A more useful endeavor would be to learn ways of, metaphorically speaking, getting rid of the dry tinder, the thick brush of mutual suspicions, the open cans of inflammatory slimes, and the readily available matches. Such an exercise would require of Najib, Muhyyiddin and Hishammuddin to be other than the three blind mice. Mice, blind and otherwise, thrive in rubbish.

Najib et al. need to look far beyond their whiskers and ponder whether the laying of razor fences at Dataran Merdeka and turning the center of modern peaceful Kuala Lumpur into an Israeli-occupied West Bank, Korea’s Demilitarized Zone, or Stalin’s Gulag is the equivalent of removing open cans of gasoline or merely spewing more fuel. This point was forcefully made by a poster on one razor fence, “Welcome to Tel Aviv!”

There are hundreds if not thousands of such pictures as well as personal accounts of BERSEH 3.0. One touched me immensely. “Up ‘til Friday afternoon I was still unsure about going,” she wrote. “… Then I saw the photos of the police rolling out the barbed wire and I saw red. Since when did our police, or whoever is their boss, roll out barbed wire – barbed wire!! – against their own people?? Are we thugs? Terrorists? Thieves?”

The observer who wrote that is no raging anti-establishment anarchist. On the contrary, Marina Mahathir is a thoughtful commentator, very much mainstream. She saw only the pictures of police laying down those razor fences, and she was incensed. Imagine if she had been strolling down the street and been rudely confronted by that hideous sight? What if she was a foreign tourist?

Ponder the mindset of those who proposed the idea in the first place, or the personnel who laid down those razor fences. Did they think that Malaysians are such unruly hooligans that could only be kept away by those menacing barriers? Or were the authorities gleefully imagining and salivating in anticipation of some innocent citizens being ripped apart by those sharp blades? We judge others through our own image. To our leaders we must be a nation of thieves, thugs, and terrorists because they themselves are.

Najib and others readily referred to the damages done by the demonstrators while conveniently overlooking those incurred by the police, as with the unnecessary road closures long before the event. I wonder how many ambulances and doctors were delayed on their way to the hospital to attend to emergencies before the rally because of the massive road closures. Violence was perpetrated upon the city long before the first demonstrators arrived.

Do not expect much introspection from our leaders; sore losers are incapable of that. They could not for example, fathom that the laying of razor fences, widespread closing of streets, and heavy police presence contributed to the violence. Such an insight escapes them.

Next Week: Second of Two Parts: Lessons To be Learned

Last of Six Parts

Earlier I reviewed the challenges faced by three groups of students who happen to be mostly if not exclusively Malays: kampong students, those in residential schools, and those in academic limbo following their Form Five.

There is another group, this time also exclusively Malays, being poorly served by our system of education: students in Islamic schools. These schools see their mission as primarily producing ulamas and religious functionaries; they are more seminaries, with indoctrination masquerading as education. They are more like Pakistan’s madrasahs and Indonesia’s pesantrens.

I would prefer that they be more like America’s faith-based schools which regularly outperform public ones. They are also cheaper and produce their share of America’s future scientists, engineers and executives. Religion is only one subject in these schools, not the all-consuming curriculum. Thus they attract many non-Christians. Contrast that to Islamic schools in Malaysia.

If Malaysia were to serve the aforementioned four groups of students well, that would go a long way in ameliorating the “Malay problem.” It would certainly be much more effective than squandering billions on GLCs, greedily hogging our constitutionally-guaranteed special privileges, or incessantly spouting Ketuanan Melayu (Malay hegemony). The converse is even truer. If we ignore these students, then it would not matter how much resources we devote to GLCs, how jealously we guard our quotas of public goodies, or how loudly we proclaim our superiority, those would all be for naught. Worse, if we do not serve these students well, that would be bad not only for them but also for Malays and Malaysia. What is also self evident is that we do not need yet another commission or a blue ribbon committee to start immediately addressing the pressing problems.

It is a uniquely Malaysian obsession to reform our education policies with every political season. Every new Minister of Education feels compelled to do it, perhaps to show off his political manhood or display his take-charge talent.

I wish the old wisdom – the more things change the more they remain the same – were true. At least then we could be comforted that the system would maintain its old quality and standards. Instead, each reform brings with it a new low. For Malaysian education, the more things change, the more they change … for the worse!

We need a stable predictable education policy. Changes brought on today would not begin to produce their results until decades or even generations later. We are only now bearing the follies of the “reforms” instituted in the 1970s. Predictability and stability of policies would encourage investments in the system. Textbook writers and publishers for example, are more likely to invest their intellectual and financial resources if they are assured that the medium of instruction of our schools would not be changed on a whim. Likewise, investors would be encouraged to set up private schools and colleges if they were assured that the government would not change polices regarding enrollment, curriculum, or language of instruction with every election season.

We have far too many of these reforms, reviews, blueprints, White Papers, and royal commissions. Yet now in our 65th year of merdeka, only Education Minister Muhyyiddin is smugly satisfied with the results, declaring at the recent National Higher Education Carnival that our young are receiving better education than those in America, Britain and Germany. Wow!

There was not even a hint of embarrassment on his part when he asserted that. Then with unconcealed smugness he added, “For those who have come to me complaining about our education system, it seems the [World Economic Forum Global Competitiveness] Report contradicts their claims.”

“Carnival” accurately describes the event where he spoke, for that is exactly what Malaysian education is, with Muhyyiddin the carnival barker. He obviously missed the part of the Report that read, “… Malaysia will need to improve its performance in … higher education and training (38th), improving access … in light of low enrollment rates of 69 percent (101st) and 36 percent (66th) for secondary and tertiary education, respectively.” Those figures are national averages. If you were to dissect further, specifically with respect to Malay vis a vis non-Malay performance, the statistics would be even uglier.

Muhyyiddin is beginning to believe his own propaganda. However, who or what he believes is not my concern except that our young (especially Malays) are bearing the heavy burden of his folly. He promised, or more accurately threatened, Malaysians with yet another “comprehensive” reform aimed at “transforming” our schools. Do not expect much; after all we are already the best. Such hubris!

This “comprehensive” review will once again consume the attention of the minister and his officers, distracting them from their day-to-day responsibilities. Resources will again be diverted to the hiring of expensive foreign consultants. Routine matters will now be ignored and pressing problems deferred until the “comprehensive” review. Meaning, they will once again be left to fester.

I do not expect much with this planned review for another reason. The education establishment, like the civil service generally, is highly insular and in-bred. There is little, in fact no infusion of fresh talent at the upper levels, apart from recycled ones from quasi private and other governmental entities. Those currently at the top, having been brought up under the present system, would find it difficult to fault it. That would be tantamount to criticizing themselves. I do not expect them to raise fundamental questions or challenge basic assumptions; they are more prone to “group think.”

I wish there would be a moratorium on these highly distracting and resource-exhausting reviews. There are already stacks of reports gathering dust in the ministry’s archives. Their authors are merely recipe writers; they consider their job done with the writing. They are not interested in finding out the fate of their recommendations or whether those ministry officials have even read them!

A vast universe separates a fancy recipe from a delicious morsel. Whether our students remain starved, flabby, or well nourished depends less on the glossy pages of the recipe book, more on the ingenuity and skills of the chefs. They will determine if or when our students get fed, and whether with junk food or nutritious meals.

I would prefer that our educational chefs – the minister, his officers and policymakers – focus on a few recipes at a time instead of trying to remodel the entire kitchen. Study the issues thoroughly, learn from the experience of others, and then try them on small portions. Monitor the details of the ingredients and the cooking, carefully sample the results, and then once successful with the kinks straightened out, adopt the recipe for national use.

A good recipe begins with fresh crisp ingredients; thus I would begin with getting solid reliable data. I have difficulty getting such simple statistics as how many students at MCKK could bear the costs, how many would be the first to enter university, or how many come from families where no one could speak English. Those are important details if we are contemplating the changes I am recommending here. Similarly, there is no solid data on what Malay students do in the six-month hiatus following their Form Five. That problem cries for attention.

Consider the abysmal level of English among Malay students. I have yet to come across a study on the challenges and obstacles they face in learning the language. There is no survey for example, assessing the English fluency of their teachers. If you do not know the problem, you are not likely to solve it. Worse, you would then think that you have already solved your problem, tempting you to brag and thus bring embarrassment to yourself.

With Malaysia in desperate need of English teachers, there is not a single all-English teachers’ college, and few of our universities have dedicated Departments of English. The government for its part awards far too few scholarships to pursue a degree in English. That is our “diligence” in “solving” the problem of English fluency among our students. Again, our policymakers do not see any problem there!

It is precisely this paucity of good data, rigorous analyses and plain rational thinking that prompts our officials to make ad hoc decisions and carry out their usual seat-of-the-pants solutions. It is also this mindset that leads our minister to make such outrageous claims as our schools being the best. The worse part is that they believe it!

Even if that minister’s preposterous claim were true, there would be very little pride if our students in the kampongs, residential as well as religious schools, and those left in limbo after their Form Five – all essentially Malays – were to remain trapped as they are now.

The purpose of my exercise is not to pontificate on the issues or belittle those charged with solving them. It is also not my intention to imperiously diagnose the malady and then dogmatically impose my prescription. My intent is to ignite a much-needed debate. Only then could we appreciate the issues in all their varying facets and full complexities. That is the only basis upon which to craft a sensible and workable solution.

To that extent I am appreciative of those who have engaged me. They have highlighted facets that I am not fully aware of and brought forth aspects that I have not considered. For example, an American scholar suggests that I am underestimating the fear of Malay language nationalists (and Malays generally) to any prominence given to English. That the fear is irrational makes it all the more real and formidable.

To a suggestion in my earlier book that Chinese schools should be identified less with race and more with its medium of instruction, meaning, a school using Mandarin instead of one appealing to a particular race, an activist with the Chinese school movement responded that it would be too much of an emotional burden, bordering on being irrational, for them to do that.

Significantly, there is one group that surprised me for its lack of engagement, those in the public sector of education. I do get the occasional response, invariably from those who have retired! Recently someone very important in the government kindly forwarded my essays to senior officials in the Ministry of Education. They responded by duly thanking me for my “interesting” ideas. Nothing beyond!

In the 1980s the Ministry of Education sent many of its senior officers on a culup (quickie) summer management course at Stanford. I managed to interest a few of them to visit the area’s best private and public schools. A few hours before the appointed time however, they called to cancel as they were going shopping instead! Then apparently mistaking my reason for the meeting, one of them assured me should I have a nephew or niece applying for a residential school back home, to let him know as he could “facilitate” it!

Trying to engage our public officials is like dropping smooth pebbles into a lake; there is hardly any ripple.

Today with the digital revolution, Malaysians are better informed; hence the derision that greeted the minister’ pronouncement on the supposed superiority of our schools. Malaysia has a long way to go, Muhyyiddin! In trying to delude us, you succeed only in deluding yourself.

Fifth of Six Parts

In the previous four essays I reviewed the particular challenges facing students in rural and residential schools. This essay delves into the six-month period in which our university-bound and other students find themselves in academic limbo following their Sijil Persekutuan Malaysia (SPM) examination.

In reviewing the recent SPM results, Education Minister Muhyiddin did not once pause to ponder what those nearly half a million 17-year-old Malaysians were doing since they sat for their test last November. These are the youngsters infesting our shopping malls, roaring around on their motorcycles, or otherwise getting into mischief. For over six months they are unable to plan for their future. They cannot even enjoy their break as their future is uncertain. The government’s myriad post-SPM programs like Sixth Form, matrikulasi, polytechnic institutes, and teachers’ colleges depend on the SPM scores, and therefore do not begin until the middle of the year.

This long period of uncertainty and inactivity during a critical period in a teenager’s development is unhealthy. The expression “an idle mind is a devil’s workshop” is never more true than for teenagers. Even if they could ward off the devil’s machination, with the long hiatus would come considerable attrition of knowledge and good study habits. This is particularly critical for those aspiring to go to good universities.

Those parents who can afford it, had planned for it, or who are not in the habit of depending on the government, enroll their children in the many excellent private programs immediately in January following the SPM examination. Then when the results come out, they would apply to the various government programs. If they are accepted then they would be relieved of a great financial burden. If they are not, they would continue with their private program.

The monetary saving, even though considerable, is but a minor advantage. The greatest benefit is that should they be accepted into Sixth Form, matrikulasi, or any other public post-SPM program, they would be at least six months ahead of their classmates who had been idle. This academic advantage is even greater when you factor in the attrition of knowledge and good study habits of those who had been idle. This six-month advantage is almost insurmountable in a 12- or 18-month program (as with Sixth Form or matrikulasi), and would remain when these students go on to university.

Most Malay families cannot afford private programs, have not planned for the six-month hiatus, or have long been dependent on the government. Thus their children are typically idle after their SPM as there is no government program that starts in January. For those who excel in their SPM and then are accepted in the government’s many university “prep” programs, they wonder why they cannot keep up with their non-Malay classmates who had been diligently studying in private programs for the past six months. Unaware of their already significant academic disadvantage from their being idle, these Malay students would then readily succumb to ugly racial stereotyping of the “dumb Malay.” I meet many of these students here in America and feel sorry for the terrible burden that they have to bear.

Their burden is no less heavy should they enroll in local public universities. Then their Malay Vice-Chancellors and Deans would berate and chastise them for not “measuring up” with non-Malays, thus essentially aggravating and confirming the ugly racial stigma. If only those officials had diligently studied the problem and listened to those students, they (officials) would not be so quick to resort to racial stereotyping.

As with the problems of our kampong and residential schools, the solutions here are as simple as they are obvious. Again here, as the burden falls primarily on Malays, it is critical that we resolve it.

One solution would be to begin the various post-SPM programs like Sixth Form in January, as in the old days. Have a special entrance examination in September, in time for the results to be ready by early December. There will be another intake in late March or early April for those who were unsuccessful at the earlier entrance examination but had excelled at their SPM. This would be a separate class, with abbreviated holidays to make up for lost time.

For those who enter in January, there would be a first term examination in early March. If they pass that, then no matter how poorly they performed in their previous SPM, they would remain in class and not be expelled, as was the practice in the 1960s. That would motivate them to pay attention to their first term test!

We should have the original full 24-month pre-university program instead of the present highly truncated one. The objective is to not only prepare our students well for university but also to cover much of the first year’s work. Only then could we justify a three-year baccalaureate program. The added costs for starting Sixth Form in January would be minimal. After all, the teachers are already being paid. Indeed, a good question to ask would be what are those teachers doing from January to June?

Fully resurrecting Sixth Form in its original form without addressing its many shortcomings would be no advance. The old Sixth Form was too selective; fewer than 10 percent of my classmates made the cut. Related to this was the second problem; the not unexpected overrepresentation from the better-equipped urban schools. As the urban/rural divide then also paralleled the racial one, it did not take long for the issue to be exploited by chauvinistic politicians. The third issue was that the old (and also the present) Sixth Form was its narrow and rigid curriculum.

The first problem is readily solvable by simply expanding Sixth Form. That would also be cheaper than expanding matrikulasi or the various universities’ “foundation studies” programs. That in turn is of several orders in magnitude cheaper than the current idiotic practice of sending students abroad after their SPM to pursue essentially Sixth Form work.

If we were to continue with matrikulasi I would restrict the intake to students from kampong and other schools too small to have their own Sixth Form. Matrikulasi should supplement not replace Sixth Form, as was the original intent. I would have the universities run matrikulasi or have it subsumed under their Foundation Studies program. Each university would then have the opportunity to design its own curriculum and introduce innovations and other unique elements with the idea of the government adopting some of the more successful ones nationally into its Sixth Form. Such a program would also be a resource to the universities’ education faculty and teacher-training program.

I would broaden the Sixth Form curriculum from the current five subjects to seven, and eliminate General Studies. All students would have to take Malay and English (not Malay or English literature, as those would be separate subjects). Arts and Islamic stream students would take as electives a laboratory science and mathematics, together with their three Arts or Islamic Studies core subjects. Science students would take an Arts elective, mathematics (preferably calculus or statistics), and their three science subjects. I would teach science and mathematics in English, and abolish the current Islamic stream’s Sijil Tinggi Agama Malaysia (STAM). Its curriculum is even narrower and more rigid; it does not serve our students well.

I would introduce a new elective for arts and science students, Islamic Studies. It would be an academic not religious subject, and cover Islamic thoughts, philosophy, arts and culture but minus the religious rituals and Koranic recitations. The course would treat Prophet Muhammad, pbuh, as a great historical figure. This would attract those non-Muslims with the intellectual curiosity to study Islam without fear of being treated as potential converts.

Instead of tinkering with the current Sixth Form examination, as with making the term examinations count towards the final as per the current proposal, I would retain its present form as a comprehensive terminal examination. Instead I would give equal weight to the term examinations (the Grade Point Average) for university admissions and other academic purposes.

We currently pay too much attention to SPM. It is after all essentially a middle school examination. When the results are released for example, there will inevitably be a national outcry over alleged unfairness in the awards of scholarships. Those SPM students awarded the scholarships could not enroll directly to university or even a community college; they would have to undergo the equivalent of matriculation or Sixth Form first. So why not wait until these students are actually accepted to top universities before awarding them their scholarships? Besides, at this stage in our national development, we should be focusing on graduate, not undergraduate and certainly not scholarships for matriculation.

If we do award undergraduate scholarships, they should be tenable only at the top universities. In America there would be fewer than 50 such institutions, with about half a dozen each in Australia, Britain and Canada. I certainly would not award scholarships for studies in India, Indonesia, the Middle East, and Eastern Europe.

Our university-bound students must have solid 13 years of rigorous schooling. Do away with the present six months of idleness following SPM. Expand and diversify the paths towards university post-SPM, as with accepting IB, GCE A level, and other foreign matriculation examinations.

Lastly, an important point worth repeating as it is in keeping with the theme of my earlier essays. Those students who are in limbo for six months following their SPM examination, as well as those in kampong, residential and religious schools are overwhelmingly if not exclusively Malays. Solve their problems, which are independent of race, and we would go a long way towards ameliorating the so-called “Malay problem” of lagging educational achievement. That alone should excite those in Perkasa, UMNO, and other vociferous champions of Ketuanan Melayu.

Next: Last of Six Parts: Futility of Reform

Fourth of Six Parts

My first three essays dealt with the challenges facing kampong schools and how we could leverage technology to alleviate those problems. I discussed enhancing the educational opportunities through improving the schools, recruiting superior teachers, and enriching the curriculum. Failure to do so would doom these unfortunate students to perpetual mediocrity and poverty, with dire consequences for them as well as the rest of Malaysia. This essay explores ways of maximizing the potential of residential schools. Again here as with kampong schools, we are dealing primarily with Malay students.

Our residential schools get the top students, have the best teachers, and consume more than their fair share of resources. Yet their aggregate performance has been underwhelming. When I visit top American campuses, the Malaysians I meet there are from other than our supposedly elite residential schools. That is the most telling indicator.

Malaysia’s oldest residential school, Malay College Kuala Kangsar, only recently (June 2011) started a matriculation program, the International Baccalaureate. Despite the luminaries on its board and the institution’s special status, it took a full decade to implement the program. Imagine the glacial pace at lesser institutions!

Prior to the IB, MCKK students had to go elsewhere for their matriculation, reducing the school (and others like it) to nothing more than a glorified middle school, and a very expensive one at that. This has not always been the case. Up till the late 1960s, MCKK still had its Sixth Form. For over the past 40 years – two generations – the institution has been emasculated academically; the same with Tunku Kurshiah College and other residential schools. What a colossal lost opportunity for Malays, one that cannot be readily quantified. My surprise is that Malay leaders, especially the Perkasa types, are totally oblivious of this loss.

The issues with residential schools are principally with reducing their cost and enhancing the output.

Reducing Costs

The comparable cost for private schools in Malaysia ranges from about RM25-45K annually for tuition, plus another RM15-20K for full boarding per student. The facilities (academic and non-academic) at MCKK and other government residential schools are nowhere comparable to such private ones like Tuanku Jaafar College, so I would put a lower figure, conservatively at RM40K per student. That is still at least 8-10 times more expensive than the regular government day school.

The government bears the entire cost regardless of the families’ economic status. Thus one quick way to reduce cost would simply have parents bear the costs based on a sliding scale, depending on income and assets. Beyond a certain level they would have to pay the full cost; below that, nothing, the students effectively on full scholarship. With the extra revenue the schools could enhance their curriculum and facilities.

The immediate impact would be to discourage well-to-do Malays from enrolling their children at these schools, preferring the much superior private ones instead. That would effectively free up more slots for children of the poor.

Another way of reducing costs would be to make these schools only partially residential, restricting hostel facilities only to those from out of town. Another would be to limit the intake of students from within the state or adjacent ones, thus reducing transportation costs, although that is only a minor component.

With the increasing urbanization of Malays I would build these schools in the cities to cater to poor urban families. Then with most of the students coming from nearby areas, this would obviate the need for full hostel facilities.

Increasing and Enhancing The Output

As our residential schools get the best students, we must ensure that the output of these schools must be superior both in quantity as well as quality. At a minimum all their students must qualify for university; anything less would be a failure both for the students as well as the institution. It would also be a loss for Malays.

Again, because they get our best, these schools must be challenged and compared with the best in the region, and not to SMK Ulu Kelantan. If today we were to compare MCKK to Kolej Tuanku Jaafar or KYUEM, the results would be embarrassing.

By far the most effective way of reducing cost and at the same time increase the output would be to eliminate the lower forms. Focus only on the last four years, meaning, take in students only after Form Three. Resources and facilities currently devoted to the lower forms could now be diverted to the all-important upper forms.

MCKK takes in over 100 pupils at Form One, but five years later fewer than 50 would be in its IB program. I would rather get rid of Forms One to Three and double up on the IB class. That would boost both the quality as well as quantity of the output.

Another way of increasing the quality would be for these schools to offer specialized programs. Some schools could for example, emphasize the sciences, others foreign languages, performing arts, or sports. Or these schools could admit only boys (as with MCKK) or girls (TKC). The government recently started one specifically for the children of FELDA settlers. There could be one catering only to children of Orang Asli, or those who would be the first in their family to enter college.

I would also have the headmastership of these schools be a terminal appointment. Let it be the job he or she will retire in (contingent upon performance of course). That would be the incentive for the individual to strive for a significant legacy. During the tenure, superior performance would be recognized by increasing the pay, and not, as is the current practice, by being promoted and transferred out.

It is a crying shame that Malay College had nearly twice as many headmasters during the past 47 years when locals took over than in its first 60. One local headmaster stayed barely a few months, just enough time to put an entry on his resume, before being promoted to be a functionary at the ministry. Then we wonder why MCKK has slid so far behind.

Other schools in Malaysia trumpet their students who are being accepted to top universities, but MCKK and other residential schools are still obsessed with and fixated over their students’ SPM scores, with their graduation exercises (“Speech Day”) attended by sultans and ministers. That, more than anything else, reveals the standards as well as aspirations of these students, their teachers, and our society.

The government is building many more residential schools. However each new one merely replicates and is being run like existing ones. There is little innovation in curriculum, management or philosophy. Consequently the same mistakes get repeated, and they call that experience!

Next: Fifth of Six Parts: Post-Form Five Options

Third of Six Parts: Extending the School Day and Year

In the first essay I suggested enhancing the English fluency of kampong students through increasing the number of hours devoted to the subject and the number of subjects taught in that language, introducing English immersion classes, and even bringing back the colonial-era English schools. The second essay dealt with recruiting teachers, as with those retired ones trained under the old all-English system, native English-speaking spouses of Malaysians and expatriates, and recruiting from abroad. This essay focuses on kampong schools.

Finland demonstrates the crucial importance of having professional, well-trained teachers. That is only one part of the solution. Provide these teachers with superior school facilities, as those Finns are doing, and only then can we expect miracles from our students. Today we provide kampong pupils with neither, and we expect miracles from them. When they do not deliver, as you would expect, they would be blamed and left to shoulder the presumed deficiencies of our race and culture.

What a terrible burden we impose upon our fragile young!

The first and immediate issue is the deplorable physical conditions of kampong schools. Many are unsafe, from roofs collapsing to unhygienic canteens. At first glace this is purely an engineering and public health issue respectively. Meaning, get competent engineers and builders to design and build structurally safe schools, and have public health inspectors to check regularly on the canteens.

Like everything else in Malaysia however, the corrosive effect of political corruption intrudes everywhere, even and especially on school contracts. The roof contractors and canteen operators are at the end of a very long line, after the economic parasites that are the corrupt politicians have had their fill. Then we wonder at why our school children are burnt to death from unsafe hostels. There is no money left for a sprinkler system or fire alarm.

It is a complex and systemic problem, and school contracts are only a small and not even the most lucrative part. So do not expect remedies any time soon, certainly not from the government as these corrupt politicians are it.

Fortunately in Malaysia the various professional bodies still retain some semblance of autonomy. One solution would be for them to hold those professionals accountable. When roofs collapse for example, the engineers and architects responsible should be hauled before their respective professional boards to be disciplined. Revoke a few professional licenses and that would send a clear and effective message. It would not stop political corruption but at least that would keep our professionals honest and, well, professional. The Watergate scandal of the Nixon era saw a number of lawyers disbarred, with salutary effect on the others.

A more direct and practical solution would be to stop entirely the building of schools and focus instead on having classrooms, specifically factory-built modular units. Put a few of these together, and with additional units for administration, teachers’ lounge, and multipurpose use, and you have a school. The only local tender left would be to prepare the site to put these units, grade the school field, and pave the driveway. The monetary value of such tenders would be so small as not to interest the local political warlords.

With portable generators these units could be air-conditioned and equipped with satellite dishes. Then those children would no longer be disadvantaged, at least with respect to digital connectivity.

Put these modular units under shady trees and you lessen considerably the cooling bill. With cool classrooms you could extend the school day and year. Those students would rather remain in class rather than be out in the heat of the day. I would use the afternoon for fine arts as with music lessons, “prep” time, and sports so that when these students leave for home it would be only to play with their friends, and to sleep. All their school work, and more, had been done at school.

I would lengthen the school year from the current 180 to 210-220 days, to match the Japanese. This is one area to “Look East.” I would also provide lunches and mid-morning and mid-afternoon snacks to ensure that the pupils would get adequate nutrition. Besides, it would hard to educate a hungry kid.

Next to nutrition is health. You cannot educate a child who is unhealthy, and you cannot keep a child healthy who is uneducated. During my primary school days in the early 1950s, there was a dental clinic at my school and we had regular checkups. Indian and African school children are today regularly de-wormed. That is one intervention that contributes most to their improved school performance and reduced absenteeism.

Worm infestation was endemic during my youth as kampong kids were essentially kaki ayam (barefooted) at home and in school. Today with a better economy, they wear shoes. However, now with frequent floods, worm infestation may again be a major factor. We need solid data for if indeed this is a major problem, it can be readily and cheaply remedied.

I would enrich the curriculum with music lessons and singing classes. That would boost the pupils’ confidence and spill over to their academic performance. This has been demonstrated in rural Venezuela with its highly effective El Sistema program, and has been successfully replicated in inner-city schools of New York. Singing is also the best way to learn another language. I learned English through singing Baa Baa Black Sheep, as well as taking part in debates, speeches and class plays. Those activities would not and could not be readily tested at the end of the year, but they contribute immensely to learning.

Kampong schools are also small; we should exploit that advantage and not let it be a liability or be an excuse for not doing anything. For one, the teachers would get to know the students and their families well. Learning and other problems could be spotted earlier and effective interventions instituted sooner. Rest assured that there would be no bullying or other anti-social behaviors as they would be spotted much earlier before they could get out of hand. America’s Small School Movement championed by Deborah Meier is premised precisely on these proven advantages.

There are definite challenges to small schools however, especially when they are scattered in rural areas. Again here we can learn much from America, especially with the experiences of Midwestern rural states. Consider the availability of teachers especially in such areas as music and special education. One solution is “clustering” where a group of four or five nearby schools would share a teacher.

Another would be the virtual classroom where you could have one room specially wired so students could be connected digitally to a teacher elsewhere. Technology can greatly alleviate many of the problems associated with the isolation of rural schools.

Malaysia has a definite advantage in that even though our rural schools are scattered, they are not as widely spread out as in America; thus travel or transportation would not pose a major problem. Malaysia also does not have America’s problem of declining enrollment in its rural schools. In fact it is increasing, which makes solving these problems even more pressing.

For those who think that my proposals as unduly expensive, consider the price for not providing our kampong children with superior education. That will effectively trap them in perpetual poverty, with dire consequences not only for them but also for the rest of Malaysia. A large component to the Bumiputra/non-Bumiputra gaps in educational achievement, as reflected in the recently released SPM results, is the consequence of this urban/rural divide.

In responding to these and other myriad problems, Minister of Education Muhyddin could not venture beyond the banalities. I wish he and his officers would tackle head on the specific issues raised here. You do not need to convene yet another expensive commission or blue ribbon committee. God knows, we already have plenty of those already. The problems are obvious; so too are the remedies. With some political resolve and concentration of effort, plus a wee bit of intelligence and imagination, you would go a long way in ameliorating these problems.

Next: Part Four: Enhancing Our Residential Schools

Second of Six Parts: The Challenge of Providing Teachers

In Part One I discussed measures to increase the English fluency of kampong pupils, key to enhancing their employability and self-confidence. These include increasing the hours for English instruction, introducing immersion classes as with our earlier Special Malay and Remove Classes, and even bringing back colonial-era English schools to the kampongs. This section focuses on the special challenges of attracting teachers, specifically to teach English, and on improving kampong schools.

Attracting Teachers

Malaysia has a deep reservoir of English-speaking teachers trained under the old all-English system. They are now all retired, but given sufficient incentives they could be readily enticed to teach in our rural schools. Right now there are only half-hearted attempts at attracting them, with the efforts left to local headmasters. These headmasters, brought up under the existing system, are only too aware of their own limitations in English. They are not about to be welcoming of or risk having their own inadequacies exposed by these hitherto senior English-fluent teachers; hence the failure of the current policy.

To overcome this entrenched resistance you would have to impress upon the headmasters that their ability to recruit these retired teachers would be a major factor in their (headmasters’) promotions or bonus payments. We should also insist that future candidates for headmasterships, as well as other promotions within the ministry, be based on demonstrated competence in English. That is a very effective way of conveying the message on the importance of English. For those retired teachers, a call back to teach would be an opportunity to not only augment their pension income but also re-ignite their intellectual and professional challenges.

Another source of teachers would be born English-speaking spouses of Malaysians and expatriates. Again, we have plenty of them. The issue of working visas is administrative, and should be readily solvable. They may not be trained teachers, but given a brief training as we did with earlier “normal-trained” teachers, they would be able to handle their classes. Their limited teaching skills would be more than compensated by their enthusiasm and English fluency. They would also bring much-needed attitudinal and cultural changes to the class. They would expose our kampong pupils to a very different way of learning as well as speaking English. You can be certain these teachers would not be indulging in “Manglish” or “rojak” English, not to mention their improving our students’ accent. These teachers with their different cultural and personal experience would open up the world of our kampong kids. That would be reason enough to recruit these teachers.

For spouses of expatriates especially but also for those foreign spouses of Malaysians, this would also be a splendid and quick opportunity for them to learn and adapt to local culture and society.

The last and most expensive recourse would be to import teachers from English-speaking countries. The least expensive (in fact cheaper than hiring locals) would be to recruit from India and the Philippines. Some of my best and most inspiring teachers in high school were from India. That was then, however. Today I am uncertain whether bringing in teachers from those countries would serve our students well.

Another source, though not as cheap, would be Eastern Europe, specifically Poland. They may not be born English speakers but thanks to their superior education system they have acquired near-native fluency in that language.

Japan imports thousands of young Americans under its JET (Japan Exchange and Teaching) Program; likewise China, Thailand and South Korea. Malaysia cannot match what the Japanese and Koreans are offering, about US$45K annually, but then living costs in Malaysia are considerably cheaper. Thailand has no difficulty getting foreign teachers for about 30K bhat (RM3K) per month. Malaysia could easily better the Thai pay. Foreigners, especially Americans and Brits, would have minimal difficulty adjusting to our roman script as well as other aspects of our society.

Thailand attracts essentially two groups of teachers: one, fresh graduates on a year or two hiatus before entering graduate or professional school; and two, seasoned mid-career teachers. Again, America provides a deep reservoir of both. Many Americans, especially those bound for graduate and professional schools (and thus among the brighter ones), take time off after graduation. These are the students who sign up for such programs as the Peace Corp and Teach For America. Malaysia obviously cannot match what Teach for America could offer in terms of salary, but can more than compensate for that deficiency with the adventure, experience and exoticness.

As for mid-career teachers, there are plenty of them who have become disillusioned with the highly bureaucratized and increasingly alienating and violence-plagued American public schools. With their pensions vested and their children now grown up, a Thai or Malaysian pay would nicely supplement their pension income, especially if we also provide them with living quarters. In my view these are the teachers we should actively recruit; they will transform our students and schools.

Many rural schools have teachers’ quarters. Most however are occupied by religious teachers. Well, we have a glut of them so we do not need to attract or cuddle them by providing them with houses. Reserve those quarters for foreign teachers and those teaching science and mathematics.

Currently Malaysia brings in scores of American “teaching assistants” under the Fulbright Exchange Program, a government-to-government initiative. I fail to see why Malaysia cannot recruit American teachers directly and independent of the US government, unless of course those Fulbright “teaching assistants” are funded by the Americans.

When we bring in these foreign teachers, we should not assign them individually rather as a group, preferably three to five to a school. If they were to be alone at a school, their influence would be minimal and be diluted; it would be difficult for them to make an impact. We need a critical mass of such teachers to effect changes in attitude and culture, quite apart from reducing the “foreignness” they would feel.

I had one such wonderful Canadian math teacher at Malay College, Mr. Neil Brown. He was taking a year off before pursuing his doctoral work at Cambridge. He was highly effective; our class set a national record for the number of As in calculus, but his impact outside the classroom was minimal. The local teachers dismissed him as a “hitchhiker.” If Malay College had a few more such teachers at the time, they would have triggered a cultural change among both teachers and students. More importantly, the local teachers would not be so disparaging of their foreign colleagues; the locals might even learn a tip or two from them.

This incidentally is what China is doing today. On a recent trip to Beijing I was surprised that the plane was full of teachers, lecturers or professors on their way to teach at various levels in China. I recently read the memoir of one such teacher where she related how touched (and scared!) she was in that her students would more readily confide their problems to her instead of the local teachers. She soon found out why. Those students did not trust their local teachers as they were seen as agents of the party or state.

A similar sentiment and mindset exist among our students. When I addressed Malaysians here in America, I was always conscious, as were the students, that there were representatives of the state, or more specifically UMNO (they are the same anyway), in the audience keeping an eye over the students. Not that it bothered me, but it certainly did some of the students. Incidentally there were also representatives from the religious department, more for policing than spiritual guidance!

The intimidating effect remains the same, and it affects not just the students. A British educator posted in Malaysia once confided to me that his local colleagues and superiors were none too pleased with him when he included some of my essays for his students’ reading assignment! It is such instances, more than anything else, that poison the learning atmosphere of Malaysian classrooms.

In recruiting these foreign teachers, I would look for additional skills they would bring, as for example their ability in drama, music and fine arts generally, as well as in sports so they could coach their students.

Improving our rural schools must begin with the teachers. Knowing the inadequacies of the education system generally and our teacher training program specifically, we would have to wait a very long while before we could get better trained local teachers. In the interim we have to adopt the measures suggested here.

It reflects our national priorities that we have a cabinet level decision-making mechanism to import maids but not to bring in skilled teachers.

Next: Part Three: Extending the School Day and Year

(First of Six Parts)

Deputy Prime Minister and Minister of Education Muhyiddin Yassin promised to release his “thorough review” of our schools by yearend. I hope that he, his officials, and the slew of expensive consultants he hired will pay attention to the unique challenges facing three particular groups of students: those in our kampong schools, residential schools, and those university-bound with their post-Form Five dilemma.

I will cover these three issues in the order presented. I had earlier critiqued and put forth my recommendations on improving the whole system in my book, An Education System Worthy of Malaysia (2003).

There is no shortage of reviews, thorough and otherwise, of our education system. Unfortunately, just as the recommendations of one new policy were being implemented, there would follow, just as surely as a burp after a roti canai breakfast, a stunning reversal soon thereafter. Unlike a burp where only stale gas would be expelled, with a policy reversal the whole earlier content would be vomited out. It is enough to keep the heads of our pupils and teachers spinning, further distracting and confusing them. A prime example would be the language of instruction for science and mathematics.

In addition to the confusions and distractions from these frequent policy reversals, kampong pupils in particular are further burdened by a triad of formidable obstacles that have remained unresolved for decades despite the multitude of reforms. Incidentally as these pupils are Malays, they should be of particular concern to UMNO, Perkasa, and other champions of Ketuanan Melayu types. On a more general level, Malaysia cannot become developed if a major segment of its population – its rural youths – are deprived of quality education. That is quite apart from the racial implications.

It is pathetic if not reprehensible that after nearly three years as Minister of Education it is only now that Muhyiddin is aware of the glaring achievement gaps between rural and urban schools. He discovered this from perusing the results of the recently-released Sijil Persekutuan Malaysia (Form Five) examination. Muhyiddin’s ignorance is even more incomprehensible considering that he is the product of a rural school. That could only indicate sheer bumbling incompetence or gross dereliction of duty.

As usual, his answer to the crisis was simply a promise to develop a “ten-year master plan” to “transform” (that favorite word again!) rural schools. By the time that committee is formed he would be busy campaigning or scheming to take over Prime Minister Najib’s job, and our rural students would be back to where they are today – ignored.

The challenges confronting kampong students are many and obvious. One is their persistent low English proficiency; two, their less-than-conducive intellectual environment at home and in the community due largely to poverty; and three, inadequate schools and less-than-superior teachers.

The government cannot easily ameliorate their poverty and lack of intellectual stimulation at home and in the community. The authorities can however, compensate for those deficiencies by improving the other two factors. That is, enhance their English fluency specifically and give them superior education through better schools, enriched curriculum, and competent teachers. That will be the pupils’ sure ticket out of poverty. From there they could then change for the better their families’ and communities’ intellectual and socio-cultural environment. This has been proven in different societies and at different times.

Those who continually harp on changing culture as the effective route towards improving educational achievement or ameliorating poverty have it backward. This does not mean that familial and social factors are unimportant in a child’s education; they are. However it is considerably much easier to improve the child’s education first; the results and impact would also be more readily apparent and measured.

Enhancing English Proficiency

There are two immediate and practical reasons for improving the English proficiency of our kampong students. One is to enhance their employability. In today’s world, the least advantaged (or most disadvantaged) are those who can speak only one language, and that language is other than English. This is true whether that language is Malay, Mandarin, or Swahili. The most advantaged are those who are bilingual, with one of the languages being English.

For kampong youths, there is another equally relevant reason for enhancing their English fluency, and that is to increase their self confidence. A major handicap for kampong youths is their lack of self confidence. Increase their proficiency in English and watch their confidence grow. This is more effective than repeatedly reveling in our imagined glorious past during Hang Tuah’s time, or proudly proclaiming our special status under the constitution, as the Perkasa folks are wont to do.

This special aura of the English language is attributable only in a small part to our colonial legacy. English is now effectively the global language of commerce and science. We ignore this reality at our peril. Even China is recognizing this, even though Mandarin is being spoken by more people in the world.

Enhancing English fluency cannot be achieved through endlessly exhorting the young to “study harder” or haranguing them on the importance of that language, but by increasing the hours of instruction in that language and providing these pupils with competent teachers.

That was one reason for the earlier policy (now reversed) of teaching science and mathematics in English. We could just as easily simply increased the number of hours devoted to English, or teach other subjects with high language content such as history or Moral Studies in English. Elsewhere I suggested teaching Islamic Studies in English, or even establishing English-language Islamic schools. English-language Islamic schools would break a major psychological barrier for Malays to learning English: its negative association with Christianity, again a legacy of colonialism.

In Japan, English is taught throughout the entire school years right from pre-school, yet its students remain hopelessly crippled in that language, as with our kampong students. The reason is clear. Both the Japanese and our kampong students have little opportunity to exercise their English skills at home and in the community.

Native English-speaking pupils in Western Canada learning French, the country’s second official language, face the same challenge as that language is not widely used in the community. One of their solutions is French immersion classes, during summer holidays or the first few years of school.

We could adopt a similar approach in the kampongs by having kindergarten and the first few years of primary school totally in English. As the usage of Malay is high at home and in the community, and as these students are also Malays, it is unlikely for them to forget their native tongue. This was how Tun Razak learned English prior to his enrollment at Malay College. This was also the basis for the Special Malay Classes during colonial times and the Remove Classes of Tun Razak’s policy. They were all highly effective.

This was also how Malays of my generation learned English. We were, in a manner of speaking, in total immersion classes throughout our school years. In my book An Education System Worthy of Malaysia I specifically call for establishing these English-medium schools in rural areas.

Malays like me certainly did not lose our native language skills as a consequence of attending English schools. Indeed many of the seminal contributions to Malay literature have been from Malays educated entirely in English. Pendita Za’aba and National Literary Laureates Shahnon Ahmad and Muhammad Haji Salleh are shining examples.

Next: Part Two: The Challenge of Providing Teachers

To assert that the Malaysian mass media is nothing more than propaganda arm of the ruling Barisan coalition is no revelation. The personnel in the mainstream dailies, the national news agency Bernama, and the government broadcasting channel RTM are less journalists and editors, more political hacks and spinmeisters. They are, to borrow National Laureate Samad Ismail’s word, the carma (contraction for cari makan, seeking a livelihood) variety.

Less appreciated is the fact that they are hired hands not of the Barisan government but of whatever faction in it that is currently dominant, or trying to be so. Thus one can surmise the tensions and the dynamics of the current swing of the political pendulum within Barisan, specifically UMNO, from perusing the headlines. Perusing is exactly the right word, for there is nothing much worth reading in those dailies.

Consider the contrasting treatment in the mainstream media of the two currently unfolding financial scandals. The first is the National Feedlot Corporation mess (“cow-gate”) that is now ensnaring the husband and family of Women’s Minister Shahrizat Jalil; it had also led to her resignation from her cabinet post. The other is the nearly half-a-million ringgit engagement party for Prime Minister Najib Razak’s daughter and an equally expensive birthday bash for himself that he allegedly tried to on to Treasury, and thus the taxpayers.

Both scandals were first exposed in the Internet through the diligent investigations of Rafizi Ramli, the chief strategist for Pakatan Rakyat. With the first scandal, the mainstream media were quick to pick up on and embellish the story; on the second, there was no mention at all. One can safely conclude that the respective primary players in both scandals, Shahrizat with the first and Najib for the second, are from different factions within UMNO. No marks for guessing which side is on the ascendance.

Rafizi is no rabble rouser throwing off wild accusations here and there. His first exposé of the “cow-gate” was initially dismissed by no less than the chief of police; today the principal player, Shahrizat’s husband, is charged with criminal breach of trust and she was caught in the ensuing wake.

With Rafizi’s track record, you would think that those investigative journalists in the mainstream media would be eager to pursue his leads. At the very least their curiosity should have been piqued. Thus for them to completely ignore the story of the alleged publicly-paid engagement and birthday parties meant that they are journalists only in name, and that they are told what to do.

In terms of monetary value, Najib’s birthday bash and his daughter’s engagement party, both totaling at about “just” half a million ringgit, are but a small change compared to the cow-gate’s RM250 million price tag; cow-gate in turn pales in comparison to the multibillion billion ringgit Port Kang Free Zone Development debacle or the “commission” paid on acquiring the second-hand French submarines that would not submerge.

While the price tag may vary, the underlying mindset of contempt for taxpayers’ money remains. To these leaders the concept of integrity or the diligent exercise of fiduciary responsibility is foreign. At best they are but slogans uttered during election campaigns and then conveniently ignored.

To be sure, this is not a weakness unique only unto Malaysian politicians. In some countries these wayward politicians are caught and brought to justice; in others, well, they continue on business as well, their greed feeding on itself. There is no limit to their avarice. Their “success” would then be celebrated, and they would then become the new role models. Unfortunately that is where Malaysia is today.

What struck me most about this latest scandal, the one involving Najib’s birthday party in particular, was the utter lack of class. Najib has made more than a few UMNOPutras rich through his giving away many lucrative contracts. Surely at least one of them would be generous or grateful enough to host the party for him.

Alas that is the problem with greed; there is literally no boundary to it. Najib’s many rich friends are still expecting to sponge off him! Likewise with Shahrizat’s husband; if he had spread the bounty around just a wee bit as, for example, to include the head of Utusan, Bernama or The New Straits Times to be on the board of directors of his Feedlot Corporation, Rafizi’s accusation would never have gone beyond cyberspace.

Greedy and unscrupulous politicians alone would and could not do in Malaysia. It would take more. There would have to be a general failure of our institutions to allow such abuses and corruption to go on and be tolerated. Toleration soon degenerates into encouragement, and a new cultural norm is established.

This is what happens when the institutions of our society have been let to deteriorate. They are no longer able to function as effective defenders of citizens’ interests. We expect members of the fourth estate to be aware of their awesome responsibility to keep citizens informed. We expect these journalists to be on the vanguard of this sacred task. Alas they too have been taken in; they have prostituted themselves to those in power.

There is an honorable place in this world for cheerleaders, spinmeisters, or even court jesters and others who see themselves doing the bidding of those who hired them, but reporters and journalists they are not. If those in the mainstream media feel that they have to cari makan, then I suggest that they join the advertising and pubic relations industry. If they are talented enough in that endeavor there will get plenty of rewards. They do not need to soil and degrade the hallowed traditions and functions of the fourth estate.

This degradation of our mainstream media is of course not a recent phenomenon, nor is it a subtle. RTM has only a few hundred followers on its Twitter. As for The New Straits Times, if not for its highly subsidized distributions and subscriptions, its circulation would down in the dumps. And if not for the government-paid announcements and advertisements and paid press releases of government-linked corporations, so too would be the paper’s revenue.

Just as the shifts in fortune among the politically powerful are reflected in the coverage of the mainstream media, so too is the dysfunctional leadership among them. We saw this played out during the early days of barely-under-the-surface rivalry between Mahathir and his then deputy, Anwar Ibrahim. Their supporters take their cue from how their patrons were covered in the mainstream media. The New Straits Times rivaled Pravda in this regard. This was repeated when Abdullah Badawi took over; then it was Mahathir’s turn to be at the receiving end.

There is no honor among UMNO leaders. Theirs is a world of hyenas; a world of winner takes all, right to last bit of morsel of their prey. Mahathir did it to Tengku Razaleigh when the latter lost a closely contested leadership contest back in the 1980s. Mahathir did it again later, this time at a more vicious level, with Anwar Ibrahim. Then Abdullah Badawi tried to do it to Mahathir, and learned to regret it.

You would expect the women of UMNO to show some gentleness. Yet there was Shahrizat and Rafidah still at it with their cat fight, now more openly and much uglier.

There is plenty of blame to go around for the present pathetic state in Malaysia. Our callous acceptance of wrong doing among our leaders did not develop overnight. We have been taught, and taught well, to accept these misdeeds as anything but that, aided by those cheerleaders and spinmeisters in the mainstream media.