SEPT 14 — The role of the public university has long been a subject of contestation across the world. 

Since their emergence in medieval Europe, universities have been torn between competing imperatives: the pursuit of universal knowledge, the cultivation of citizens, the service of the state, and, increasingly, the demands of the market. 

The modern research university, as shaped in 19th century Germany, was founded on ideals of academic freedom and the integration of teaching and research. 

Yet even then, it served a national purpose, producing knowledge to strengthen the state and cultivating elites who could govern.

In the 20th century, particularly after the Second World War, public universities expanded dramatically. 

The post-war social compact in Europe and North America, and later in Asia, viewed higher education as both a right and a public good. 

Universities were tasked with democratising access, training the professionals of industrial economies, and creating more equal societies. 

But this expansion also carried contradictions: massification strained resources, affirmative action provoked debates about fairness, and the rise of neoliberal policies from the 1980s onwards reframed universities as engines of economic competitiveness rather than bastions of critical thought.

Globally, three tensions define the current crisis of the public university. The first is between meritocracy and equity. Should universities admit only the best-qualified candidates, or should they also rectify historical and structural inequalities? 

The second is between knowledge as a public good and education as a private commodity. Should universities primarily serve the collective, or should they operate as markets where students purchase credentials? 

The third is between the civic and the utilitarian mission. Should universities cultivate citizens capable of critical thought and democratic participation, or should they focus narrowly on producing employable graduates for global markets?

These are not abstract dilemmas. They manifest in controversies over admissions at elite universities in the United States, debates over affirmative action in India, student protests over tuition in Chile and South Africa, and anxieties in Europe about the decline of humanities in favour of STEM fields. 

Everywhere, the public university is under pressure to justify itself in the face of mass demand, limited resources, and competing societal expectations.

The Malaysian university in historical perspective

Malaysia’s public universities were born into this global story but developed along a distinctive trajectory. 

At independence, higher education was limited and elite. By the 1970s, expansion was rapid, driven by both developmental needs and the New Economic Policy (NEP). 

Universities were explicitly tasked with restructuring society: increasing Bumiputera representation, alleviating inequality, and ensuring that education served national identity as much as knowledge.

This gave Malaysia’s public universities a complex dual mandate. They were to cultivate excellence, producing the doctors, engineers, lawyers, and teachers required for modernisation. 

But they were also to serve equity, opening doors for groups historically excluded from higher education. 

This duality was not unique to Malaysia, but it was particularly sharp because of the country’s multi-ethnic social fabric and the political salience of affirmative action.

Over the decades, universities became sites of both hope and contention. For rural and first-generation students, they symbolised mobility and belonging. 

For middle-class families, they became the default expectation, a guaranteed pathway to professional life. 

For policymakers, they were tools of national planning. But this very multiplicity of roles planted the seeds of contestation. 

Was the university primarily a meritocratic institution? A redistributive one? A marketised service? Or a civic space for cultivating citizens?

The present crisis and the question of belonging

The recent controversy over straight-A students being denied entry into public university programmes must be understood within a broader historical and global context. 

The public reaction has been intense not because Malaysians are unaware that admissions are competitive, but because it raises deeper doubts about the legitimacy of the public university itself.

When a student who has fulfilled every measurable requirement is not offered a place, the promise of meritocracy appears uncertain. 

When a student with a disability is not adequately supported despite meeting the criteria, the principle of equity seems compromised. 

And when families encounter “open entry” or “direct entry” schemes linked to higher fees, they worry that universities may be moving toward a more commodified model of education that privileges financial capacity over academic achievement.

What is at stake is not only access but also belonging. Public universities carry the symbolic weight of the nation’s recognition of talent and dignity. 

To be admitted is not simply to pursue an education, but to be affirmed as part of the larger national project. To be excluded, particularly in ways that are not well understood, is to feel left out of that project. 

This explains why the controversy resonates so widely: it speaks not only to individual disappointment but to collective aspirations and anxieties about fairness, recognition, and the role of higher education in society.

Reclaiming the public university as a public good

How then should we respond? The temptation is to propose technical fixes: clearer criteria, better appeals mechanisms, more streamlined systems. 

These are necessary, but they do not address the deeper issue: the lack of clarity about what Malaysian public universities are for.

To reimagine the role of the public university, we must first return to the idea of education as a public good. 

Globally, this idea is under threat, but it remains vital. A university that serves only the market reduces students to consumers and knowledge to commodities. 

A university that serves only meritocracy risks entrenching privilege, since “merit” is often shaped by unequal starting points. 

A university that serves only redistribution risks losing credibility if talented students feel unfairly excluded. The challenge is not to choose one role, but to integrate them within a coherent vision.

This requires three commitments.

First, transparency must be non-negotiable. Admission decisions must be made intelligible to the public. 

This does not mean every applicant gets a place, but it does mean every rejection is understood as the outcome of fair and reasonable rules. Without transparency, trust collapses.

Second, equity must be rearticulated. Affirmative action policies cannot remain static. 

They must evolve to address contemporary forms of disadvantage, whether ethnic, economic, regional, or disability-related, and must be explained openly. Equity is legitimate only when it is seen as justice, not as hidden preference.

Third, the civic mission must be defended. Public universities should not only produce employable graduates; they should also cultivate critical thinkers and responsible citizens. 

This means resisting the reduction of education to market value and reaffirming the university’s role as a space of intellectual freedom and social reflection.

The soul of the university

The anger over rejected straight-A students is therefore not about admissions alone. It is about the soul of the public university. 

Around the world, universities are being asked to justify themselves in an era of mass demand and limited resources. 

In Malaysia, the stakes are heightened by history, diversity, and politics.

The question is not whether every top student should gain their first choice, but whether the principles guiding public universities are transparent, just, and aligned with the values of a democratic society. 

If universities are seen as arbitrary or commodified, they lose their legitimacy. 

If they reclaim their role as public goods, balancing excellence, equity, and civic purpose, they can continue to embody the hopes of a nation.

In the end, the controversy forces Malaysians to confront a choice that is also global: what do we want our public universities to be? Engines of competition? Instruments of redistribution? Markets for credentials? Or spaces where society invests in both knowledge and citizenship? 

The honest answer is that they must be all of these, but with clarity, accountability, and a renewed sense of purpose.

The crisis of admissions today is a symptom of a larger contestation. It is an opportunity to reimagine, not abandon, the public university. For in defending its soul, we defend not only the future of education but the very meaning of belonging in Malaysia.

*Khoo Ying Hooi, PhD is associate professor at Universiti Malaya. 

** This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail.