Those who are familiar with British politics should know Anthony Giddens, the former head of the prestigious London School of Economics and Political Science. Giddens is often touted as Tony Blair's guru, and rightly so. After all, it was his centrist argument, The Third Way, which propelled Blair to cross the Rubicon by ditching the Clause 4 of the Labour Constitution, eventually ending the party's nearly two decades of wilderness.

The former British prime minister once famously said that one need not see him about Labour's directions if one had read Giddens. The mutual admiration between the two men runs deep, and Blair has never concealed his gratitude to Giddens, calling himself a follower of his ideas.

Meanwhile, Margaret Thatcher, the Iron Lady, had her own guru in Alfred Sherman, an influential British writer and political analyst of Jewish origin. An arrogant stateswoman she may be, Thatcher has on numerous occasions acknowledged the central role that Sherman had played in her political success in the 1980s. The Centre for Policy Studies of the Conservative Party, co-founded by Sherman, continues to provide guidelines and shape the party's positions on various issues.

To his credit, Sherman had sought no fame nor fortune from Thatcher, and he remained a firm adherent to his own beliefs till his dying days.

China has its own gurus also. Known as "guo shi" in Mandarin, the term has a strong Buddhist political background, as it was the Wen Xuan Emperor of the Bei Qi Dynasty (AD550 577) who invited Reverend Fa Chang, a highly esteemed monk, to preach in the palace. The Reverend later became a royal adviser, paving the way for scores of Buddhist leaders who sought to exert their religious influence over the dynastic rulers after him.

But it is not uncommon to see great scholars courting the attention of the ruling establishments alongside religious gurus throughout Chinese history. Confucius, for one, is said to have harboured the "guru complex", in that he was constantly in search of a royal household that would value his noble thoughts. Luckily, the great Confucius was not prepared to compromise on his political stance, and opted for lifelong teaching as his vocation, rather than taking refuge in a ruler who did not share his ideas.

The Malaysian scenario

In Malaysia, whether or not an intellectual receives state recognition often depends on who he/she knows. Some are actually doing quite well, such as Professor Shamsul Amri Baharuddin of Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia and Professor Khoo Kay Khim, the well-known historian. To call them "gurus" is perhaps a bit too farfetched, but they are no doubt quasi-spokespersons of the state when it comes to the issues of race, ethnicity and history.

As for those who happen to be on the "wrong" side of the political divide, they are certainly conspicuous by their absence in the "mainstream" discourse: Dr Syed Hussin Ali, Rustam Sani, Dr Syed Hussein Alatas, Sim Kwang Yang, Khoo Boo Teik, Lim Teck Ghee and, needless to say, Prof Jomo Sundaram, to name a few.

Thanks to the hard reality of racial politics, some scholars of Chinese origin can only console themselves by ghost-writing on behalf of political leaders. The speeches or articles are then compiled into books as if they represent certain contemporary political thoughts, to be launched and recommended by the very same authors who must, for some unknown reasons, remain anonymous.

As the famous Hokkien saying goes: let's settle on the shrimp when there is no fish around. Second best and compromise are always better than nothing at all, and please don't ask me why the fish must be prized more than the shrimp.

In this regard, I note that there have been some interesting developments in MCA politics lately.

Rumour has it that Dr Hou Kok Chung, Director of Institute of China Studies, Universiti Malaya, has been eyeing a parliamentary seat in the next election. Some have gone as far as to suggest his ultimate goal is the deputy post at the Ministry of Higher Education, currently held by Ong Tee Kiat.

Two weeks ago, Dr Ho Khai Leong, a Malaysian who teaches at the School of Humanities and Social Sciences, Nanyang Technological University of Singapore, appeared at the launching of the Chinese Society and Multiethnic Politics, the latest book by MCA President Ong Ka Ting, much to the surprise of many. Ho had been quite critical of MCA in the 1990s.

To complete the picture, Tay Lian Soo, a Malaysian scholar of ancient Chinese philosophy, has recently written a two-part article on Ong's book. Calling the MCA president a "wiseman", Tay in his prolific writing showered praises on Ong in a manner that would be pleasing to the propagandists of Chairman Mao and Generalissimo Chiang.

Why MCA?

Granted, these scholars are outstanding in their own fields, and I do not dispute that. But one may ask if they have taken leave of their senses when they choose to endear themselves to a political leader whose influence on policymaking is next to nothing.

In a pseudo-democratic society such as Malaysia's, it is fine and well for academicians to put aside scholarly work and seek to shoulder the burden of politicians. Whether or not their effort will be appreciated is another matter.

Ong is a leader who has over the years been building myths around him through the co-opting of various clans and associations, and has entrenched his control of the Chinese press industry through a "smart partnership" with Tiong Hew King, the Chinese media tycoon. In light of this, it is hard to believe Ong will suddenly come to his senses, sit up, and heed the advice of his guru-wannabes.

Which prompts me to ask: what, really has driven these scholars to rally around Ong, when they know MCA, living in the shadows of the hegemonic Umno, is no vehicle for real change or for them to put their ideas to work?