Identity Crisis

(3 of 4)

A Gap in Wealth
If Malaysia's races are separating, it is partly because of the legacy of the New Economic Policy (NEP), an ethnically based affirmative-action plan instituted in 1971 to create opportunities for the economically disadvantaged Malays. During colonial times, Chinese traders were favored by the ruling British, and they controlled much of the economy upon independence. Malays and indigenous peoples — collectively known as bumiputras, or "sons of the soil" — wanted to redress that economic imbalance. The NEP, which offers preferential treatment to bumiputras in everything from education to politics, has lifted millions of Malays into the middle class. But some analysts argue that the NEP has outlived its usefulness and has been hijacked by a Malay ruling élite that uses the race-based policy to secure sweetheart deals for themselves while leaving poor Malays in the dust. Indeed, the World Bank estimates that despite Malaysia's impressive $10,000 per capita annual income, the country is burdened with the largest income disparity in all of Southeast Asia. "The Malays are being let down by their own people," says Transparency International's Navaratnam, "because the rich are getting richer while the poor are staying the same."

Leading the political charge against the NEP is a Malay, former Deputy Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim. In 1999, Anwar was jailed for six years on sodomy and corruption charges that human-rights activists characterized as politically motivated. Now he has emerged as de facto leader of the opposition People's Justice Party, which is campaigning to dismantle the race-based NEP and replace it with a class-based scheme that would, say, help poor Indians while preventing rich Malays from taking handouts they don't need. Anwar blames the NEP both for breeding corruption and decreasing competitiveness, since many lucrative state contracts are reserved for bumiputra companies. "Globalization does not treat kindly people who feel as though they must be protected because of injustices from colonial times," says Anwar. "If we don't want to be displaced by an up-and-coming country like Vietnam, we must play by the rules of the global game."

Local rules need to be followed, too, if Malaysia is to continue attracting foreign investment. In September, two Shari'a court officials were detained over corruption charges. In the same month, 1,000 lawyers and activists, including the country's Bar Council president, took to the streets to highlight what they consider deteriorating judicial independence and integrity. Their protest was galvanized by a video clip that appeared to show a well-known lawyer helping fix top bench appointments. (The government says it will set up a royal commission to investigate the video.) "I used to be proud to say I was a Malaysian lawyer," says Karpal Singh, a prominent human-rights lawyer. "But now? The system is getting worse."

Indeed, the courts may actually be exacerbating Malaysia's divisions. Revathi's case is only one of several that have challenged the complicated legal system set up by Malaysia's founding fathers. The country employs a dual-track structure in which Muslims are bound by an Islamic Shari'a court on issues such as family law, while non-Muslims are governed by civil courts. For many years, overlapping issues, as in the case of intermarriage, were quietly negotiated by both courts. But now, Shari'a courts are increasingly refusing to accept conversions out of Islam, arguing that apostasy is illegal in the Muslim faith. At the same time, civil courts have become less willing to rule on religious issues they say are the domain of the Muslim legal system. In a landmark case earlier this year, the nation's highest court decided that it had no jurisdiction to deem a person non-Muslim, because that is the Shari'a courts' prerogative.

The mainstream press has avoided the topic because of a government directive ordering media to maintain "peace and harmony" by blacking out debate over Islam's role in the state. The censorship disappoints journalists who were pleased when Abdullah initially allowed for more freedom of expression than predecessor Mahathir. In October, Malaysia received its worst-ever ranking in the worldwide press-freedom index compiled by watchdog Reporters Without Borders, falling by 32 places to No. 124. The drop was due, in part, to two separate cases in which a blogger and a publisher of an online newspaper were both pulled in for official questioning. "There's lots of intimidation toward people who speak out," says Steven Gan, editor of the online publication Malaysiakini. "Instead of saying, we're all Malaysians who need to unite and equip ourselves against our competitors in a globalized world, the government is pursuing divisive politics and making the media the scapegoat."