Hopeful European liberals have long cited Turkey as proof that secularism and Islam can live more or less comfortably side by side.

But there is another state where the two have coexisted with demonstrable success. Malaysia's 25 million-strong population is 60% Malay, 25% Chinese and 15% Indian and other ethnic groups. Most Malays are Muslim; Islam is the official religion, but the state institutions are fiercely secular.

At least they are for now.

In many ways, Malaysia, with its mix of races and religions, makes for a better test of the secular state's capacity to cope with Islam than does Turkey with its relative homogeneity. The landscape abounds in Buddhist shrines, Hindu temples, Christian churches and mosques. Malay women, in long robes, their heads covered, jostle for space on Kuala Lumpur's monorail with scantily clad Chinese girls in shorts and tight tshirts. There is no overt social censure either way.

To the extent that Malaysia manages to protect the rights of its citizens to practise their different religions, its embrace of "live and let live" is an admirable achievement. So, too, is the separation of religion from professional life.

And a dual court system allows Muslims to take dayto-day grievances to Islamic, Sharia courts, while the civil courts provide judicial recourse for everyone and everything else.

If one gauge of a state's success is its ability to protect citizens of all persuasions equally, however, another is surely its ability to prevent the dominant religion from imposing its precepts on non-adherents. And here the Malaysian 'model' of religious tolerance is experiencing its first strains . . .

strains that it may, in time, be unable to withstand.

The sad truth is that where Islam is concerned, the separation of religion and state is becoming harder and harder to maintain.

Opposing views about the status of women provide fertile territory for conflict between the Islamic and civil courts, with matters of inheritance, the upbringing of children and, of course, divorce, batted endlessly between the two. In the past, this dual system allowed Muslims to have family and other disputes settled according to their religious principles, without imposing their system on others. Now it is proving harder to keep the systems distinct.

It was in an effort to resolve a judicial power struggle that often ends in stalemate and friction, the government two years ago tabled the Islamic family law bill. The idea was to incorporate limited elements of Sharia law into Malaysia's civil code.

The law was passed through both houses on a three-line whip at the end of last year, but has remained without signature and has not passed into law. In effect, what has happened is that a two-year effort to find a form of family law that will find acceptance among both Muslims and non-Muslims has failed. And the whole question has been pushed under the carpet, lest it inflame Malaysia's inter-ethnic relations. Nothing has been resolved.

That there is a conservative wind blowing through sections of Malaysia's Muslim establishment is clear.

Less clear is whether it will be whipped up into a gale that bends the country's secular institutions to its will, or whether it will howl loudly for a while before blowing itself out.

When pushed to take a stand, Malaysia's popular consensus still veers to the secular. But only just, and only when the chips are really down. If this is the best even Malaysia can do, with its hitherto benign religious climate, uneasy coexistence may be the best that any secular state can hope for when faced with a resurgent, but highly defensive, Islam.