Commentary on education sector reform has long been a form of moral catharsis for Pakistans chattering classes, usually amounting to little more than positions of clichd polemic. For a number of reasons, in the years following 9/11, the volume of pontification from those concerned for the welfare of the country increased substantially the common factor among much of the commentary being that concrete change in Pakistan was intrinsically dependent on the state pursuing an education reform agenda. What exactly constitutes this reform agenda, however, still seems largely ambiguous, except perhaps to those few individuals professionally engaged with curriculum design in the education sector.
There is little disagreement one can have with those who espouse the value of educational reform in bringing about substantive structural change in the country. But it is equally important, however, to deconstruct the notion of education sector reform and contextualise it in the backdrop of our colonial and postcolonial history.
The most common instance of citing education reform is usually in reference to electoral politics or the hackneyed and frustrating argument that ‘we cannot have democracy without an educated polity’. This argument posits, in short, that the antidote to our inability to institute substantive procedural democracy in this country happens to be education. This, to say the least, is a deeply problematic notion.
Without delving deep into the general inanity of this argument, it is sufficient to say that while formal education is extremely important for many things, a lack of it should not be used as a pretext to take away voting rights from an individual. No school in this world, least of all in Pakistan, teaches you to recognise your ideal representative. Your rationality is constructed both from the formal experience of attending classes and from the day-to-day practice of growing up in a particular surrounding. At the end of the day, basic algebra is not going to help you differentiate between the person who can deliver municipal goods and the person who can’t.
Another common context of a discussion on education reform is with regards to the authoritarian nature of the Pakistani state and its relationship with India and Islam. It is usually posited by many liberal/progressive education reformists that the public education system perpetuates our states authoritarianism and thus, requires rectification. While this is a largely valid critique, it remains a very complicated issue and something that require a considerable degree of demystification.
The nationalist (or as some would call it, the establishment) narrative is what is commonly known as ‘Nazariya-e-Pakistan’. Premised on a religio-historical understanding of South Asian Islam, and North West Indian Muslim culture, this narrative remains standard discourse in public as well as private educational institutions. With Mohammad Bin Qasim portrayed as the spiritual father of the Pakistan Muslim League (as opposed to its very real fathers, the agrarian Unionists of Punjab and salaried state employees of Uttar Pradesh), this narrative is intolerant, authoritarian, centralising, and generally deserving of all the criticism thrown its way from liberal/progressive circles. Except for one little thing: It remains the primary narrative of a very small portion of this country’s population.
This particular caveat is extremely crucial, and sadly enough like most things important, often ignored. The amount of finger pointing and bogey-labeling that is often thrown at this narrative should suggest that the Pakistani state (the army, and the bureaucracy) is the most oppressive and all-controlling institution in the world. In other words, after 63 years or so, Pakistan should resemble North Korea. On the other hand, history teaches us that while the national narrative continues to wax lyrical about the benefits of Major Aziz Bhatti’s last stand on a bridge over BRB canal, the public (or popular) narrative continues to speak about sectarian, caste, ethnic, linguistic, and spatial affiliation.
The only class for whom coherence exists between the national and public narratives is the educated/graduate class in Pakistan. By even the most optimistic estimates, the number in possession of an undergraduate degree does not go over six percent of the total population. Crucially though, it is this very class that mans important decision-making offices in the state. Caught between the lure of modernity and the intrinsic need to formulate a distinguishable identity, religion and religiously inspired nationalism are the most convenient forms of self-identification for our educated class. The projection of this self-identification onto the rest of the population is simply a result of their position in our power structure.
It is imperative, therefore, if one takes a gradualist policy-oriented approach to the question of combating the regressive hegemony of the state in Pakistan, that reform through education be channeled, first and foremost, through public and private higher education. Let’s all be very clear about one thing: The educational system is only one peddler of regressive nationalist agendas and so far, its track record in educating consent has been ambivalent. Our best option lies in ensuring that a targeted reform agenda is used to increase the potential for self-reflection, first for a particular class (the dominant, educated one), and then for the rest of the country.
The writer works in the social sector and blogs at http://recycled-thought.blogspot.com. Contact him at [email protected]
