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Friday, December 11, 2015

शिक्षा, सामाजिक न्याय और पाठ्य पुस्तकें -- उद्घाटन वक्तव्य

प्रो. ससांका परेरा,
डीन, समाजशास्त्र संकाय
साउथ एशियन यूनिवर्सिटी, नई दिल्ली


(Hindi translation of inaugural address at the workshop in Patna organized by the Department of Sociology, South Asian University supported by Rosa Luxemburg Stiftung on curriculum, pedagogy and social transformation. Tnalsted from English to Hindi by Akshay Kumar (अक्षय कुमार), Anil Kumar Roy (अनिल कुमार रॉय) and Madan Mohan Jha (मदन मोहन झा)

मैं समझता हूँ कि रोजा लक्सेम्बर्ग फाउंडेशन के सहयोग से साउथ एशियन यूनिवर्सिटी के समाजशास्त्र संभाग के द्वारा संपन्न इस परियोजना में, सामान्य रूप से सामाजिक न्याय के मसले में शिक्षा के सन्दर्भ और विशेष रूप से शैक्षणिक सुविधा की स्थिति को संबोधित किया गया है. इसमें विद्यालयों में प्रयुक्त होनेवाले पाठ्यपुस्तकों की विषय-वस्तु के भीतर भी झाँकने की भी उम्मीद की जाती है. किसी दूसरे भारतीय प्रांत की अपेक्षा बिहार में इस अध्ययन की शुरुआत के पीछे विशेष मकसद है. पिछले दो दशकों से भी अधिक समय से बिहार सामाजिक न्याय की चिंता के झंडे को बुलंद करता रहा है. अपने-आप में यह एक सराहनीय स्थिति है.

लेकिन, एक समाजशास्त्री के अनुसार कहीं भी सामाजिक न्याय के आदर्शों और वास्तविक उपलब्धियों के बीच प्राय: गंभीर अंतर रहता है. इस परियोजना के जारी शोध के प्रारम्भिक निष्कर्षों में जो तथ्य उभरे हैं, वे भी आदर्श और हकीकत के इस अंतर की ओर इशारा करते हैं. मैं आश्वस्त हूँ कि आप इस कार्यशाला में इसपर जरूर विमर्श करेंगे. इस प्रकाशित प्रतिवेदन में यह स्थिति सारांशित है. लेकिन यह असाम्य एकमात्र बिहार या भारत में ही नहीं है. पूरे दक्षिण एशिया में ऐसी स्थिति देखी जा सकती है. श्रीलंका जैसे देशों में भी, जहाँ भारत के 74% प्रतिशत के विरुद्ध 92% साक्षरता है, साक्षरता की यह संख्या सामाजिक न्याय की वैश्विक वास्तविकता के चित्र को झुठला नहीं सकता है. इसका सीधा अर्थ केवल इतना है कि अधिकतर लोग पढ़ और लिख सकते हैं या अपना हस्ताक्षर तीन भाषाओं में से किसी एक भाषा में कर सकते हैं. यह वृहत पैमाने पर सामाजिक न्याय की प्राप्ति को इंगित नहीं करता है. मैंने बहुत सारे स्कूल देखे हैं, जहाँ मकान नहीं हैं, बिजली-पानी नहीं है, कुछ ही शिक्षक हैं और वहाँ से छात्र कभी भी विश्विद्यालय तक पहुँचते हैं. बल्कि गरीबी के चक्कर में फँस कर रह जाते हैं. इसलिए लक्ष्य के परे संख्यायों को कभी भी गंभीरता से नहीं लिया जाना चाहिए. हमको यह जानने की आवश्यकता है कि वास्तविक रूप में जमीनी स्तर पर क्या होता है. इस अध्ययन से यह उम्मीद की जाती है कि इसमें यह किया गया होगा.

Image courtesy of Ravi Kumar, Department of Sociology, SAU
इस स्थिति में मैं, अपने काम और सोच के आधार पर, दो बातों की चर्चा करना चाहता हूँ. मैं उम्मीद करता हूँ कि यह इस कार्यशाला को एक व्यापक आधार प्रदान करेगा. पहला है, हमारे लिए सामाजिक न्याय के सन्दर्भ में शिक्षा का तात्पर्य क्या है. दूसरा, किसी भी कार्यशील लोकतांत्रिक व्यवस्था में पाठ्यपुस्तकें वास्तविक रूप में किस प्रकार की होनी चाहिए.

साउथ अफ्रिका के पूर्व राष्ट्रपति नेल्सन मंडेला ने कहा है कि “शिक्षा वह सर्वाधिक शक्तिशाली हथियार है, जिसे तुम दुनिया को बदलने के लिए प्रयोग कर सकते हो.” मैं आदर्शात्मक रूप में सोचता हूँ कि हममें से अधिकांश लोग इस बात से सहमत होंगे. दूसरे शब्दों में, शिक्षा का उद्देश्य सामाजिक परिवर्तन, हमारी सोच के तरीकों में बदलाव, नागरिकता की प्राप्ति और, अंतिम रूप से सामाजिक न्याय के स्तर की प्राप्ति है. लेकिन अमेरिका और सामान्य रूप से पश्चिमी दुनिया के देशों में 1960 के दशक से तथा हमारी दुनिया के हिस्से में 1970 के अंत और 1980 के प्रारम्भ में शिक्षा सीधे बाजार से जुड़कर उपयोगिता की चीज हो गयी है.

तब से शिक्षा का ध्यान नागरिक मूल्यों और सामाजिक न्याय पर केन्द्रित नहीं रह गया है, बल्कि यह बाजार के लिए अनुशासित कामगार बनाने के प्रशिक्षण के रूप में रह गया है. अमेरिका की शिक्षा प्रणाली के बारे में बात करते हुए Samuel Bowles और Herbert Gintis ने अपनी पुस्तक Schooling in Capitalist America: Educational Reform and the Contradiction of Economic Life  में यह आधारभूत तर्क दिया है. इस परिप्रेक्ष्य में, स्कूली और विश्वविद्यालीय शिक्षा ने ज्ञान और आचार पर केन्द्रित होने की अनदेखी की है और उसने अपनी परिस्थितियों में केवल निराशाजनक वातावरण का धोखा उत्पन्न करके राजनीति-विमुख श्रमशक्ति के निर्माण की प्रक्रिया पर ध्यान केन्द्रित किया है. इस व्यवस्था को Ronald Dore ने ‘Diploma Disease’ के रूप में वर्णन किया है. यह उनकी 1976 की किताब का शीर्षक है.

मुझे लगता है कि आप स्वीकार करेंगे कि यह व्यवस्था का वह प्रकार है, जो विगत तीन-चार दशकों से सम्पूर्ण दक्षिण एशिया में पूर्वागत परम्परा से अपनी शैक्षिक व्यवस्था के रूप में प्राप्त हुआ है. कोई भी देश या राज्य बचा हुआ नहीं है. ऐसा लगता है कि हमलोगों ने बिना किसी आत्म प्रतिबिम्बन के कमोवेश इसे स्वीकार कर लिया है, यह बहुत खतरनाक है. मेरी दृष्टि में यह अपनी संवेदना को ध्वस्त करने जैसा है. मैं यह नहीं कह रहा हूँ कि हमें अपने बच्चों को विद्यालयों और विश्विद्यालयों में विक्रय कौशल प्रदान नहीं करना चाहिए. लेकिन क्या ऐसा करते हुए हमें एक नागरिक के रूप में सामाजिक न्याय और नीति की जवाबदेहियों से पूर्णत: विमुख हो जाना चाहिए? क्या हम इसे अलग-अलग श्रेणियों में नहीं कर सकते हैं? क्या बाजार की आवश्यकताएँ सामाजिक नैतिकताओं से बिलकुल विमुख होनी चाहिए? मुझे ऐसा प्रतीत होता है कि शैक्षिक व्यवस्था में सामाजिक नैतिकता को समाप्त करने की योजना है, जैसा हम समझ सकते हैं कि बहुसंख्यक विचारों के प्रति धीरे-धीरे बढती असहिष्णुता अब इस क्षेत्र के विभिन्न देशों में राजनीतिक प्रतिमान के रूप में प्रकट होने लगी है.

Image courtesy of Ravi Kumar, Department of Sociology, SAU
मैं यह भी नहीं देख पा रहा रहा हूँ कि हमारे समय में प्रदान की गयी इस शिक्षा पद्धति में सबकी अनिवार्य रूप से नियोजनीयता है. तो भी, एक ही समय, वे सामाजिक न्याय और इससे सम्बद्ध के आदर्शों प्रति अभिरुचि खोते जा रहे हैं. दुर्भाग्यवश श्रीलंका और भारत के जिन बहुत सारे युवकों से साक्षात्कार के दरम्यान मेरी बातचीत हुई, वे इसी श्रेणी में आते हैं. 1970 के दशक में ऑस्ट्रेलिया के शक्तिशाली खदान उद्योग के आग्रह पर उस देश के कुछ विश्वविद्यालयों ने बाजार की उपयुक्तता के अनुसार प्रशिक्षण शुरू किया. दो दशक बाद खदान उद्योग ने विश्विद्यालय को फिर से पत्र लिखकर अपने प्रशिक्षण में अपनी जरूरतों के और अनुकूल परिवर्तन करने के लिए कहा. ऐसा इसलिए कि उनलोगों ने पाया कि जो स्नातक वहाँ से आये, वे अत्यधिक संकीर्ण प्रशिक्षित थे आयर वे आसानी से पुनर्प्रशिक्षित नहीं किये जा सकते थे, क्योंकि उनका प्रशिक्षण अपर्याप्त था. मेरी धारणा है कि कमोवेश यहाँ के विद्यालय और विश्वविद्यालय की वर्तमान में यही स्थिति है. आपको यह निश्चय करना है कि आप एक अभिभावक, पदाधिकारी, राजनीतिज्ञ और नागरिक के रूप में क्या चाहते हैं.

अब मुझे पाठ्यपुस्तकों के बारे में कहना है. पाठ्यपुस्तकें शक्तिशाली शिक्षाशास्त्रीय साधन हैं. वे विचारों के वाहक हैं. यह इसलिए है कि लेखन में स्थापित विचार, वाचिक शब्दों की अपेक्षा, अधिक शक्ति, प्रभाव और जीविता रखते हैं. और इसलिए इसका टिकाऊ प्रभाव युवकों के मस्तिष्क पर होता है. पाठ्यपुस्तकें केवल पढ़ना सीखने के लिए पढ़ाना नहीं हैं और न तो विशेष विषयों के प्रारम्भिक तथ्यों की जानकारी देना मात्र है. बल्कि यह नागरिकता की ओर संलग्नता तथा युवा मानसिकता को उसकी ओर ढ़ालने करने के लिए भी है. लेकिन तब क्या होगा जब पाठ्यपुस्तकें इन संभावनाओं को ध्यान में रखकर नहीं बनाया गया हो? चूँकि पाठ्यपुस्तकों की क्षमता अच्छी तरह समझी जा चुकी है, यदि  वैकल्पिक रूप से यह छोटे-से राजनीतिक उद्देश्य की प्राप्ति के लिए लिखा गया हो, तब क्या होगा? मेरे अनुसार, विषय से सम्बंधित आवश्यक प्रशिक्षणों के परे पाठ्यपुस्तकें स्पष्ट रूप से सामाजिक यथार्थ और जागरूकता को परिलक्षित करता है. ऐसा खासकर भाषा के पाठकों, इतिहास के पाठों, धार्मिकता के पाठों, नागरिकता के पाठों, समाज अध्ययन के पाठों को पढनेवाले का सन्दर्भ में है. अनेक देशों और प्रान्तों में इसमें भिन्नता मिलती है. लेकिन वे इस अर्थ में निरपेक्ष नहीं हो सकती हैं. पाठ्यपुस्तकें को निश्चित पक्ष तय करना पड़ेगा. इस सन्दर्भ में अनेक देशों में पाठ्यपुस्तकें वर्षों से चिंतनीय स्थितियों से गुजरी हैं.

जैसा कि शिक्षा के समाजशास्त्र के तहत सुविदित है कि अमेरिका के कैलिफोर्निया और न्यूयार्क में पढाये जाने वाले अमेरिकी इतिहास की 1960-70 में आलोचकों ने निंदा की कि उसे जातीय-सांस्कृतिक वास्तविकताओं और इतिहास से जोड़कर प्रस्तुत नहीं किया गया है. बहुत हाल में McGraw-Hill world Geography पाठ्यपुस्तकें, जो अमेरिका के नवें वर्ग में प्रयुक्त हैं, उसके ‘पाठ पलायन के  तरीके’ में कहा गया है कि “The Atlantic slave trade between the 1500s and 1800s brought millions of workers from Africa to the Southern United States to work on agricultural plantations.”  अमेरिका में अफ्रिका से गैरकानूनी और अनैतिक ढंग से लाये गए दास, जो बंदी बनाए गए थे, जिनके साथ क्रूर व्यवहार किया गया था, जिन्हें उजाड़ दिया गया था और जिन्हें दुनिया के विभिन्न जगहों में बाजार के सामान की तरह भेजा गया था, उन्हें कहा गया कि वे कानूनी तौर पर पलायन करके मजदूरी के लिए आये थे. इसी तरह जापानी विद्यालयों की पाठुपुस्तकों में द्वीतीय विश्वयुद्ध में कोरिया और चीन के विरुद्ध सैनिकों की आक्रामक भूमिका की चर्चा नहीं है. श्रीलंका की पाठ्यपुस्तकों में विनाशकारी जातीय संघर्ष की चर्चा नहीं मिलती है और जन अधिकार के लिए अमेरिका में 1960 में जन संघर्ष की चर्चा नहीं है. अफ्रिका में रंगभेद और भारत में जातीय संघर्ष की चर्चा नहीं है. रोमिला थापर, हरवंश मुखिया, प्रो. विपिन चंद्रा भारत की पाठ्यपुस्तकों में इतिहास में समस्यायों पर चर्चा की है. इसलिए हमलोग जो बात यहाँ कर रहे हैं, यह वैश्विक  समस्या है. बहुत गहराई के साथ तैयार भ्रामक पाठ्यपुस्तकें तैयार कर हमलोग किस तरह के नागरिक तैयार कर रहे हैं, जबकि इन दिनों हम कक्षा के बाहर भी की पुस्तकों का स्तर भी काफी गिरा है.

इस स्थिति में आपको इस निर्णय पर पहुँचना होगा कि आपकी पाठ्यपुस्तकों का हाल किस रूप में है. क्या वे छात्रों को विश्वस्तरीय स्तर पर और उनके अपने परिवेश में उनका क्या स्थान है, इसका मूल्यांकन का अवसर देती हैं? क्या उनको यह विचार देती हैं कि उनको किस प्रकार का नागरिक होना चाहिए? क्या वे समावेशी सोच, सहिष्णुता के विचार इत्यादि लोकतंत्र के लिए जरूरी बातों को प्रोत्साहित करती हैं? यदि वे कुछ हद तक भी करती हैं तो यह माना जा सकता है कि ये चीजें नियंत्रित की जा सकती हैं. लेकिन मैं निश्चित नहीं हूँ कि इस तरह की बातें यहाँ हैं.

मुझे उत्सुकता होगी यह जानने की कि यह परियोजना और कार्यशाला से किस प्रकार के तथ्य विकसित होते हैं. मुझे उम्मीद है कि यह भारी-भरकम आधार प्रदान करेगा, जिस पर हमलोग ठोस निर्णय लेंगे. संभवत: हम उस दिशा को बताएँगे जिसपर राज्य सरकार की शिक्षा, यदि वे चाहें तो, चल सकेगी. यह इस कार्यशाला की तात्कालिक व्यावहारिक उपयोगिता है. लेकिन एक विश्वविद्यालय के रूप में ये हममें समझ पैदा करेंगी कि कम से कम देश के एक भाग में ये बातें किस तरह काम करती है. यह ज्ञान के लिए है, जो हमारे अपने शिक्षण को भी प्रेरित करेगा.


जहाँ तक मेरा सम्बन्ध है, हम जिस विश्विद्यालय से आते हैं, उसे आठ देश रकम मुहैया कराते हैं. मैं बहुत प्रसन्न होऊंगा यदि भविष्य में कोई ऐसा दिन आता है, जो हम बिहार में कर रहे हैं और जो विमर्श हमने यहाँ किया है, उसकी चर्चा दक्षिण एशिया के दूसरे भागों में भी हो. यदि ऐसा होता है तो अपने पड़ोसी देशों के प्रति भी हमारा दायित्व पूरा होगा. धन्यवाद!

On Education, Social Justice and Textbooks

(Inaugural address at the workshop in Patna organized by the Department of Sociology, South Asian University supported by Rosa Luxemburg Stiftung on curriculum, pedagogy and social transformation)

Image courtesy of Ravi Kumar, Department of Sociology, SAU
I understand that this project on social justice implemented by the Department of Sociology at South Asian University with the help of Rosa Luxemburg Foundation looks into how issues of social justice have been addressed in the context of education in general, and with regard to educational facilities in particular. It is also expected to explore the content of textbooks used in schools. It makes sense to begin this study in Bihar because more than any other Indian state, Bihar politics seems to be at the forefront over the last two decades or so specifically flagging concerns over social justice. In itself, this is a commendable position.

But, as sociologists would say, there is often a significant gap between articulated ideals of social justice in any given place, and the actual achievements of social justice on the ground. Preliminary findings in the on-going research of this project also indicate this gap between the ideal and the reality which I am sure you will discuss in this workshop.

This state of affairs is also outlined in the report that has been published. But this disparity is not something unique to Bihar or India. It is also something that one can see right across South Asia. Even in a country like Sri Lanka where literacy is 92% as opposed to India’s 74%, the numbers don’t paint a picture of social justice as a universal reality. It simply means that most people can read and write something or can sign their name in one of three languages. This by itself is not indicative of broader achievement of social justice. I have seen too many schools with no buildings, without electricity or running water, with few teachers and from where students never go to universities, but become trapped in a cycle of poverty. So numbers themselves cannot be taken too seriously beyond a point. What we need to know is what exactly happens on the ground. This is what this study is supposed to do.

In this situation, I want to talk of two things from the perspective my own work and thinking, which I hope would offer a wider context for this workshop. One is what education means to me in the context of social justice. The second is what textbooks should ideally be like in any functioning democratic setting. 

Image courtesy of Ravi Kumar, Department of Sociology, SAU
South Africa’s former president, Nelson Mandela has said that “Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world.” I think in an ideal sense, most of us would agree with this. In other words, education is about social transformation, about changing the way we think, about citizenship, and in the final analysis, about achieving a degree of social justice. But since the 1960s in the United States and the western world in general and in our part of the world since the late 1970s and early 1980s, education has become a more utilitarian practice linked directly to the market. 

Since then, the focus of education has not been on citizenship values or social justice, but on training a docile labour force for the market. Talking about the education system in the United States, this is the basic argument made by Prof Samuel Bowles and Prof Herbert Gintis in their 1976 book, Schooling in Capitalist America: Educational Reform and the Contradictions of Economic Life. In this context, education in both schools and universities discarded the focus on knowledge and ethics and began to refocus on creating a labour force disinterred in politics in their own circumstances, but merely thinking and working as one cog in a dispassionate system of labour. This is what lead Prof Ronald Dore to describe this kind of system as the ‘Diploma Disease’ This is the title of his 1976 book. 

I think you would recognize this is the kind of system we have inherited throughout South Asia as our educational system over the last three to four decades. No country or no state has escaped this. What we seem to have accepted by and large without much self-reflection is a very dangerous thing. For me, it is a matter of dismantling our conscience. I am not saying that we should not give our children marketable skills in schools and universities. But in so doing, should we completely discard our responsibilities towards social justice and ethics as citizens? Can’t we do both in different degrees? Should the needs of the market be completely devoid of ethics? It seems to me, it is also in the context of this scheme of education devoid of ethics that we can also understand the creeping lack of tolerance for a plurality of ideas and difference that has now become an iconic feature in the politics of many countries in the region.

But even if we take this parochial scheme as a given condition of our times, I also don not see many young people who go through this system as necessarily employable. However, at the same time, they also lack the interest they should ideally have towards social justice and related ideals. Many young people I have talked to during interviews in Sri Lanka and India unfortunately often fall into this category. In the 1970s, paying attention to the requests of Australia’s powerful mining industry, some universities in that country opted to train their students to suite the market. Two decades later, the mining industry wrote back to the universities and asked them to change their training, and make it more like what it used to be. This is because they found out that the graduates coming to them were too narrowly trained and could not be further trained easily due to this unsubstantial foundation. By and large, I think this is where many of our schools and universities currently stand. You need to decide if this you want as parents, as officials, as political leaders and as citizens. 

Image courtesy of Ravi Kumar, Department of Sociology, SAU
Now, let me say something about textbooks. Textbooks are powerful pedagogic tools. They are also ideological vehicles. This is because ideals embedded in writing have much more power, influence and longevity than the spoken word. That is why they have such a lasting impact on young minds. Textbooks are also not merely about teaching to read and offering information on the rudimentary elements of a specific subject. They are also about engaging with citizenship; and they are also about moulding young minds. But what would happen if textbooks are not formulated by taking these possibilities into consideration? Alternatively, what if they are written to achieve parochial political goals because their potential is well understood? For me, textbooks are clearly about reflecting social realities and sensitization of crucial societal and global issues beyond the essential training in the subjects concerned. This is particularly so with regard to language readers, texts on history, texts on religion, texts on civics and social studies and so on, which vary from country to country, and from state to state. Textbooks in this sense cannot be neutral. They have to take certain ethical positions. It is in this context that textbooks in many countries have run into considerable trouble over the years. 

As well known within sociology of education, textbooks for teaching American History used in California and New York in the 1960s and 1970s were condemned by critics for not adequately dealing with the ethno-cultural realities of those states at that time as well as historically. More recently, the McGraw-Hill World Geography textbook used for ninth grade students in some US schools made the following observation in the section called “Patterns of Immigration”: “The Atlantic Slave Trade between the 1500s and 1800s brought millions of workers from Africa to the southern United States to work on agricultural plantations.” Here, stress the word, workers. Suddenly, slaves who were illegally and unethically captured, brutalised, uprooted and transported across the world as marketable goods, had become workers -- implying that they were legal migrant workers working for a salary.

Similarly, Japanese school texts have no references to that country’s aggressive military role in Korea and China during World War 2. Sri Lankan texts have no references to its own destructive ethnic conflict and civil war while it talks about the civil rights movement in the United States in the context of white and black conflict in the 1960s, apartheid in South Africa and caste violence in India. 

Historians such as Prof Romila Thapar, Prof Herbans Mukhia and Prof Bipan Chandra have talked about the problems and lapses in history textbooks in India. So what we are dealing with here is a global problem. What kind of citizens would we end up in creating if we educate them on the basis of deeply flawed textbooks, when reading beyond the class rooms have also deteriorated in recent times? Besides, all this happens in an education system whose adherence to ethics have been compromised in many places. 

In this scheme of things, you have to come to terms with where your own textbooks stand. Do they offer students a realistic assessment of their place in the world and their locality? Do they give them a reasonable sense of what citizenship should be like? Do they promote a sense of inclusiveness, tolerance of diverging ideas and difference as we should expect from a democracy? If they do, at least to some extent, one can assume that things are manageable in so far as texts are concerned. But I am not at all sure if this is the case here as in many other places in our region. 

Image courtesy of Ravi Kumar, Department of Sociology, SAU
I will be curious to know what kind of material the project itself and the workshop will come up with as they progress. Hopefully, it would offer all of us a robust foundation upon which we could make informed decisions and perhaps point towards the path which the state government can take with regard to education in general, if they so wish. That would be the immediate applied utility of this work. But as a university, that knowledge would also inform us how these things work in at least in one part of India. This is about knowledge, which can also inform our own teaching. 

As for me, and coming from a university funded by eight countries, I would be much happier if there is a day in the future when what we do here in Bihar today and the conversations we have in Patna and elsewhere in the state can be replicated in other parts of South Asia. If that happens, then our responsibility to our larger neighbourhood would have been achieved.

Let me end with the words of Gurudev Rabindranath Tagore whose ideas were first introduced to me by my grandfather when I was a child though I understood none of it at the time. But, now, I think what he said is relevant to all of us in education, and particularly those of us who teach: “I try to assert in my words and works that education has its only meaning and object in freedom – freedom from ignorance about the laws of the universe, and freedom from passion and prejudice in our communications with the human world.” If we fail in this basic ideal that simply means we have failed to educate our younger generations in the true spirit of education. 

Sasanka Perera

Sunday, September 20, 2015

University Autonomy and Governance: Towards a Dismantling of Institutionalized Mal-practice


(Invited Lecture delivered at the workshop, ‘University Governance, Autonomy and Accountability: Issues and Directions for Change’ organized by the University of Colombo, Sri Lanka Foundation Institute, Colombo, 3rd September 2015)[1]

If the oldest and perhaps the most established university in the country considers it necessary to organize a workshop of this magnitude on the theme, ‘University Governance, Autonomy and Accountability: Issues and Directions for Change’ with the participation of major stakeholders of higher education in the country, then, one has to assume that there is a serious and entrenched crises in our midst that can be understood within this theme. Unfortunately however, not too many of us have discussed such issues this openly until now. That does not mean that concerned colleagues have not whispered about these issues in the informal corridors of academia and sometimes spoken publically as well. But institutionally and collectively, we have not discussed these issues in public, and with the kind of urgency that they so deserve. In the words of Romila Thapar: “it is not that we are bereft of people who can think autonomously and ask relevant questions. But frequently, where there should be voices, there is silence.” (Thapar 2013). Closer to home, Savitri Goonasekere calls this the “studied silence of the university community.”[2] I see the venture undertaken today as a significant attempt to overcome our silence. In this context, I want to do two simple things, assuming this might help place the discussions over the next two days within a broader perspective. 

First, I would like to set forth some ideas on what ‘autonomy’ means to a university. 

And second, I will attempt to think aloud about what I understand as ‘governance’ in so far as universities are concerned. 

I leave it up to the technical discussions that follow to work out the details, modalities, and the legal frameworks within which ideals pertaining to these concepts might be achieved. Or in the very least, to figure out how it might be possible to come closer to these ideals than we are today. I have discussed some of these issues many times before, including during my address in 2014 to the colleagues in the Faculty of Arts, University of Colombo. To them, I apologize for some inevitable repetition. 

Autonomy and academic freedom

Let me first deal with the idea of ‘autonomy.’ In the detailed background note of this workshop, it is suggested that in Sri Lanka, autonomy in universities is understood in terms of two perspectives, one ascribed primarily to university academics, and the other to politicians and officials. 

The second perspective has, by far, tremendous political power in the Sri Lankan context because universities are imagined in much the same way as other government entities, and are seen within the ambit of direct state control. Talking about the same tendency in the Indian context, Arun Kumar notes that “universities cannot function like a bureaucracy or the police where orders are implemented without questioning; compliance is expected and dissent is a malaise – the anti-thesis of what academia needs. … Autonomy of the institutions and of the academics is so crucial for advancing knowledge generation” (Kumar 2013). 

While these two perspectives make sense when presented in this manner, their analytical utility disappears in the realm of actual practice. As all of us know quite well, there are many academics among us who have been touting the second-perspective on autonomy as if we are sales reps for the University Grants Commission and the Ministry of Higher Education. 

In talking about ‘autonomy’ in universities, I will restrict myself to academic freedom which obviously cannot blossom unless universities are truly autonomous. In 1992, in Sinaia, Romania, in a conference partially sponsored by UNESCO on ‘Academic Freedom and University Autonomy,’ the proceedings made the following basic but crucial observations: “History has shown that violations of academic freedom and institutional autonomy have high costs in intellectual regression, social alienation and economic stagnation. In light of profound social changes and new demands placed on universities, there is a need to forge a new understanding between universities and society. A reaffirmation and revitalization of the principles of academic freedom and university autonomy are imperative” (CEPES Papers on Higher Education 1992: 4). 

It seems to me that today, as we meet to discuss our own crisis, we are experiencing what these colleagues felt, thought about and attempted to break free from, at a much earlier moment in time and in another place. It should be clear that academic freedom, along with the very function of a university as a key source of knowledge, cannot be sustained unless these institutions are autonomous from destabilizing external and internal forces. 

As we know, all major universities in the world were conceived and established initially as autonomous zones of intellectual freedom, open to debate and uncensored production of knowledge. Concepts such as ‘academic freedom’ found their genesis in these contexts. In the United States, ‘academic freedom’ found its meaning within contentious political debates over a period of 100 years. In 1967, in a well-known case, Keyishian vs. Board of Regents, speaking on behalf of the majority of the US Supreme Court, Justice William Joseph Brennan made the following statement: “academic freedom --- is of transcendent value to all of us and not merely to the teachers concerned. That freedom is therefore a special concern of the First Amendment, which does not tolerate laws that cast a pall of orthodoxy over the classroom” (Perera 2005). 

In the Sri Lankan context, the Federation of University Teachers’ Associations in May 2013 reiterated this understanding of the university as a zone of freedom: “The fundamental role of a contemporary university is teaching and research based on the principle of the search for unbiased truth. This role is facilitated by intellectual freedom in carrying out teaching and research, autonomy of universities, evolution of various disciplines with inherent and independent standards/priorities and internationalism.”[3] While some of us may have differing views on the search for an ‘unbiased truth’ given the instability of the notion of truth itself, we can all stand behind the sentiment espoused through this statement. 

Our academic colleagues made these observations in the specific contexts in Sri Lanka when the general ideals of both autonomy and academic freedom were in the process of being seriously curtailed as a necessary requirement of the state. 

Autonomy conventionally ascribed to universities and the resultant freedom to pursue academic and intellectual goals have been restricted in recent times not only in our country, but in many other parts of the world as well, due to a number of reasons. Conventionally, universities were seen not only as producers of knowledge, but also as centers of critique, and the conscience of a society. But critique is increasingly not something that states appreciate. And this is particularly the case when it comes to a region like ours where democratic practices and institutions as well as ethics in politics have been steadily dismantled over the last three decades. 

It is in such a context that Terry Eagleton observes with reference to higher education in the United Kingdom, “what we have witnessed in our own time is the death of universities as centers of critique” (Eagleton 2010). According to him, the function of a university and the responsibility of academics beyond the transmission of subject-specific knowledge is the creation of a space for self-reflection and responsible critique. As we have seen from our own experience, this is not a role governments like ours with increasingly authoritarian tendencies would want its citizens or universities to play. Hence the urge on the part of the state to curtail the autonomy of universities as well as academic freedom which goes with it. Eagleton further explains that since recent times, “the role of academia has been to service the status quo, not challenge it in the name of justice, tradition, imagination, human welfare, the free play of the mind or alternative visions of the future” (Eagleton 2010). This redefined role of the university as a purveyor and protector of the status quo would naturally suite any government. It offers less resistance; no dissent; and therefore easier governance by any means. 

The ways in which university autonomy and academic freedom have been defined in discussions globally and by FUTA in our own context might seem to suggest that threats to these ideals invariably come from the state and from beyond academia. As self-evident from our own experience, however, we know this is only a partial truth. Much of the ability to entrench negative tendencies such as curtailing these freedoms comes from within, from the tacit support of colleagues for different reasons. Arun Kumar, with reference to deteriorating autonomy in Delhi University over the last five years, refers very clearly to these internal dynamics in the following words: 

The senior academics of the university are dependent on the university administration for many things and, therefore, prefer to hold their counsel and mostly take a cue from the vice chancellor (VC). Those academics who dare to challenge the VC are branded as trouble makers. Often they face systematic harassment ---. An example is set to dissuade others from following these independent academics.

The result is the silence of most academics and the dominance of the administration. --- The erosion of autonomy, growing bureaucratisation and growing outside interference in the universities in India have gone together. --- In India, politicians like to control institutions, and ambitious academics collaborate in this to quickly move up the ladder to gain power” (Kumar 2013).

This is about the erosion of autonomy in India’s premier central university, and of the role played by its own academics in generating this state of affairs. When I first read this account and had numerous conversations with colleagues in that university over the last four years, my immediate sense was that I was still in Sri Lanka. That this was Colombo, Peradeniya, Sri Jayawardenapra and so on. Across the board, ours is also a story of betrayal, lack of ethics, lack of common sense and a complete lack of vision and an infatuation with a hallucination of power. And much of this has come from within universities. 

This deliberation on autonomy naturally leads to a discussion of governance in relation to universities. 

Governance

In the proposal for this workshop, ‘university governance’ has been defined as a set of practices that entails two domains: (a) university-government relations, (b) governance within the universities.”[4] It further suggests that “the concept of governance should not be restricted to the narrow sphere of administration” and should necessarily involve “a normative framework built on the ideals of freedom, autonomy, accountability and democratic governance.”[5] Despite the exhaustive and inclusive nature of this specific understanding of governance, my own thoughts today will be restricted to one specific modality of governance that involves the university and the state as well as interactions within universities.

As an example that addresses both of these domains, let me refer to the practice of appointing Vice Chancellors to our universities, which is directly done by the state, and specifically by the President of the Republic. In theory, Section 34 (1) of the Universities Act - 1978 offers the legal provisions and the power to universities and the University Grants Commission to exercise autonomy when appointing Vice Chancellors. Very simply, this clarifies that the UGC must recommend the ideal candidate to the President, selecting the nominee from the three names recommended by the Council of the University. However, under the previous government and with the passing of the 18th Amendment to the constitution, unmitigated political power was vested in the office of the President. Under this general situation and the resultant extreme and crude politicization of the UGC, an extremely negative precedence was set of sending all three names to the president without a specific recommendation. This allowed him the sole discretion to select the Vice Chancellor of his choice within the obvious limits of his wisdom.[6] The debacle over the appointment of a suitable VC at the University of Colombo is but one example.

Compared to this, in all ‘developed’ societies in Western Europe, North America and the Far East, appointments of Vice Chancellors or Presidents to major universities is done by their internal governing bodies. It is strictly an internal affair that usually ends after the recommendations of a search committee is taken to its logical conclusion. This is done taking into account the university’s autonomy and its right to govern itself. 

For example, at Oxford University, whose model upon which many of the older universities in our part of the world were based, the Council of the University appoints a Nominating Committee for the Vice-Chancellorship to conduct the search for the Vice-Chancellor. To express an interest in the post of Vice-Chancellor, anyone with the required qualifications simply uploads the application to a specified website quoting a reference number. The university’s Congregation, which acts as the ‘parliament’ of the University, with over 4,900 members, including academic staff, heads and other members of governing bodies of colleges, and senior research, computing, library and administrative staff, approves the appointment of the Vice-Chancellor. It is a simple, transparent, fairly independent and democratic system.[7] This is part of their tradition. 

In most parts of the world with underdeveloped economies and dismantled democratic traditions however, the situation is very different. Edward Said, with reference to the post-independence Arab world, notes that state universities were seen as extensions of the national security states. In this context Said makes the following observations about the Arab academy: 
Alas, political conformity rather than intellectual excellence was often made to serve as a criterion for promotion and appointment, with the general result that timidity, a studious lack of imagination, and careful conservatism came to rule intellectual practice (Said 2001).
As all of us know quite well, Said’s description of post-independence Arab academy describes equally well the prevailing general situation in Sri Lanka as well as the wider South Asia region. In Sri Lanka, India, Pakistan, Bangladesh and Nepal, Vice Chancellors are appointed by the President or the Prime Minister of the country. Appointments to similar positions in regional universities in Pakistan and India are made by provincial governors. In all cases, these are acutely political appointments where academic credentials are made to have little relevance. 

What is of relevance is an appointee’s proximity to political authorities which make the appointments. In Sri Lanka, this state of affairs has come about as a result of the state’s relentless intrusion into universities since the late 1960s with much vocal support from sections in the academia since at least the 1990s in the backdrop of out-migration of skilled academics to the greener pastures of the West, experimentation with neo-liberal policies of governance, and the long-term impact of war and political violence on the practice of democracy. 

When crucial appointments such as these are made on the basis of narrowly defined political ends, what happens to ideals of governance and autonomy? How does it impact upon the integrity of both academics and academia? The politically anticipated ‘responsibility’ of academics appointed to positions such as that of vice chancellors to serve one’s masters to ensure one’s own political survival. Can they be true guardians of a system whose original goals were far greater than the self-interests of the politicians who now appoint them? 

Let me offer some clarifications here. Even in the early 1970s, Vice Chancellors in Sri Lanka were appointed by the state. But these appointees were individuals with a very different kind of education with an emphasis on ethics, which enabled them to think independently and as scholars despite the political nature of their appointments. They were capable of not adhering to political diktats if they lacked reason and ethics. It would be naive to assume there are too many of such people left in this country due to the serious ruptures in our education system in general as well as in our collective civic sense. 

Even so, if one studies the process of appointing vice chancellors to our universities provided under Section 34, it is obvious that there are certain safeguards to ensure that political authorities cannot simply appoint anyone they want. However, due to the kind of ‘timidity and studious lack of imagination’ that Said talks about, and also due to the ‘silence’ of senior academics that Thapar, Kumar and Goonasekere refer to, which are traits that have been deeply institutionalized in our universities also, violating norms so blatantly becomes something of a second nature, with no repercussions. Savitri Goonasekere explains this state if affairs in our own context in the following words:
Though the Senate is the highest academic body according to the University Act, and the Council the governing body with the autonomy to choose the nominees for the post of VC, they all surrendered their responsibilities in the face of political pressure. The Deans and Senate nominees in the Council were a powerful voice on university governance in the past, since the official nominees represent only a majority by one in the Council. The erosion of a collegiate sense in the university, the passivity of academics on these bodies, and the professionals in the Council, legitimised abuse of power even in the matter of professorial appointments.[8]
What else can be a better example of dismantled governance? What else would explain that failures in governance and autonomy in universities come first from within, rather than from the relatively distant structures of the state?

Future

As you deliberate over the next two days, I hope you would take the time to work out the modalities of how to deal with and decisively address these internal contradictions that we have allowed to manifest within our institutions. I would now like to make a number of concrete suggestions on how some avenues for critical engagement on these issues might be opened: 
  • Regarding university autonomy, a careful re-thinking of the legal framework within which the present crisis in university autonomy is located, has become a necessity. Rather than re-inventing the entire legal framework, what is suggested is a critical engagement with the existing structure to re-formulate the areas that are of critical importance such as the appointment of VCs, in order to restore autonomy to universities. This would enable these institutions to be freed from the vagaries of party politics. I strongly believe that it is essential to establish an independent body to which all groups such as the UGC, ministerial administration, university-level administration, academics and even student bodies can appeal, in cases of mal-practice or doubt.
  • In terms of accountability and responsibility in governance at all levels within universities, a system of checks and balances that includes inter-departmental and inter-faculty collaboration within universities should be formulated to ensure that a culture of downward accountability is established and maintained. A mechanism to initiate periodic reviews regarding the following of good practices and rules at all levels is also very necessary.
     
  • Specifically in relation to the appointment processes of VC’s and Council Members, apart from the revision of legal provisions mentioned above, the establishment of broader councils that play a significant role in governance within universities is a necessity. There also needs to be strict guidelines on the appointment of council members and their qualifications, including the provision to have members directly elected by faculty bodies. Also, there needs to be a clear legal provision for the vice chancellors to be responsible to their colleagues in universities and not merely to those political authorities who appoint them.
For me, the bottom line is that the aim of these proposed mechanisms should be to make governance and autonomy two sacrosanct terms that can exist without contradicting each other, and without violating the basic principles of academic freedom and the broader goals of university education. 

Let me end by referring back to the breaking of the collective silence I mentioned at the beginning of my presentation. There is an essential quality of human life we need to urgently rediscover and live by, if issues such as university accountability, autonomy, freedom of expression, and governance are to be re-established. But this cannot be done through the enactment of laws and regulations. I am thinking of our dignity, self-respect and understandings of right and wrong which we have so readily compromised for lesser things. 

For too long, we have been mute and have begun to believe that if we don’t see a travesty, through our own self-induced blindness of convenience, that travesty somehow does not exist. In that sense we are very similar to Salman Rushdie’s character in the novel, The Enchantress of Florence, Alessandra Fiorentina. As Rushdie narrates, “Alessandra Fiorentina had long ago perfected the art of seeing only what she wanted to see” and , “If she did not see you, then you did not exist” (Rushdie 2010: 190). To me, this seems like most of us in recent times.

If we are serious about reforming our university system, which is an urgently felt need, we need to first cure ourselves from this Fiorentina Syndrome of Convenient Amnesia, which afflicts many of us. If we can do that, and rediscover our lost sense of human dignity, then half the battle would be won. 

It seems to me that to a certain extent, we have begun to come out of our collective silence, if this workshop is any indication. And that too, with the direct guidance of the Vice Chancellor at University of Colombo and with the direct and personal intervention of the former Acting Vice Chancellor of the same university, Prof Lalita Mendis. This is a very clear sign of the importance of decent people in troubled places. This is also a very welcome sign, and an act other vice chancellors should readily emulate. This would not have been possible prior to the political changes of recent times. But one can never be certain for how long such an opening up of the public sphere might continue. However, just as much as individual tyrants with no vision have dismantled our institutions to a great extent while we have watched in silence, individuals can also set things right with our encouragement and support. 

In that sense Professor Dissanayake, though you have inherited an unenviable mess, transgressing that mess is well within what you can achieve during your tenure. I hope this is the time for a reinvention of ourselves. I hope the leadership for that will come from the University of Colombo, and from the deliberations of this workshop.

I thank you for your time, and hope this initiative reaches its fruitful end. 

References

CEPES Papers on Higher Education. 1992. Academic Freedom and University Autonomy. Proceedings of the International Conference, 5-7 May 1992, Sinaia, Romania

Eagleton, Terry. 2010 (17th December). ‘The Death of Universities.’ In, The Guardian, http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2010/dec/17/death-universities-malaise-tuition-fees (last accessed on 02 10/14).

Kumar, Arun. 2013. ‘Delhi University and the Crisis in India’s Higher Education.’ In, Economic and Political Weekly, Vol. - XLVIII No. 24, June 15, 2013. 

Perera, Sasanka. 2005. ‘Dismantling Academic Freedom.’ In, Alternate Space: Trivial Wrings of an Academic. Colombo: Colombo Institute.

Rushdie, Salman. 2009. The Enchantress of Florence. New York: Random House. 

Thapar, Romila. 2014. To Question or not to Question: That is the Question (Third Nikhil Chakravartty Memorial Lecture, 2nd November 2014). New Delhi (http://www.thehindu.com/news/national/academics-must-question-more-romila/article6535612.ece; last accessed on 03 November 2014).

Said, Edward. 2001. ‘Identity, Authority and Freedom.’ In, Reflections on Exile: And Other Literary and Cultural Essays. London: Granta Books.


Endnotes

[1]. I acknowledge with much gratitude the help from Samudrika Sylva at University of Colombo in formulating this address in the relatively short period that was available.
[2]. Email communication from Prof Savitri Goonasekere, 1st September 2015.
[4]. Unpublished draft Workshop proposal, University Governance, Autonomy and Accountability: Issues and Directions for Change, University of Colombo ; September 03-04, 2015.
[5]. Unpublished draft Workshop proposal, University Governance, Autonomy and Accountability: Issues and Directions for Change, University of Colombo ; September 03-04, 2015.
[6]. I thank Prof Savitri Goonasekere for her comments and explanations on the workings of Section 34, and the politicization of the UGC and the process of appointing Vice Chancellors; email communication, 1st September 2015.
[8]. Email communication from Prof Savitri Goonasekere, 1st September 2015.

This presentation was was serialized in the Island, and can be accessed via the following links:
Part 1 (16 September 2015): 

Part 2 (17 September 2015):

Part 3 (18 September 2015): 

Sunday, September 13, 2015

The Inevitability of the Banana Republic



Sri Lanka has been a ‘banana republic,’ for quite some time, and clearly so throughout the oligarchy of the Rajapaksas. Formally, a banana republic is “a small country that is economically dependent on a single export commodity, such as bananas, and is typically governed by a dictator or the armed forces.”[1] But in our case, the fate of the citizenry is far worse than in most other banana republics. In Sri Lanka, all wisdom, action, dreams, hallucinations and the making of unmitigated profit came from the first family and then from its acolytes. They were essentially the centre of our universe as well as the structure that kept this universe in place in a very specific way. So, they were the ‘star’ rugger players of the nation; they were our ‘elite’ racing car drivers who made sure that lesser mortals had to stay locked up indoors until they raced around the city along public roads all night long; they produced the ‘ideal’ navy officers of the nation who could command the naval force of the country as if it was their personal army; they provided the next generation of ‘astronauts’ seemingly dedicated to take their ideology to outer-space so that bigger-than-life-size cutouts of the father figure could be affixed on the moon right next to Neil Armstrong’s forgotten foot print; it was their wisdom that built public toilets, playgrounds, schools, traffic lights, airports, municipal drains, harbors, bus stands and what not, according to the ubiquitous plaques installed at these places. 

They were the players of an expensive socio-political drama which all of us had to finance and were forced to watch. Sadly, some of us began to believe this to be the only possibility of life in our country. I am not talking of people who benefitted from being the main or part-managers of the banana republic, but ordinary people who gained nothing. They gullibly swallowed a cluster of myths with all of their contradictions. The bottom line seemed to be, “because He won the war, we have to tolerate all of His and His loved ones’ idiosyncrasies and excesses.” In this scheme of things, we allowed our country to transform from a faulty democracy to a fully functioning oligarchy with an omnipresent system of surveillance. We allowed it to become a fiefdom and a banana republic from a non-functioning-but-attmepting-to-function regular republic. In this context, like for many other sensible people I know, it was a relief to see the head of the oligarchy defeated in the presidential election in January 2015. From a distance, and without the right to vote, I admired the tireless work of disparate groups of people and individuals, some of whom I knew quite well, who tirelessly worked to ensure the emergence of what seemed like the end of an era. I was elated at the miscalculations of ‘royal’ astrologers and over-confident political pundits who also played a key role in making the change in January 2015 possible. 

And without much fanfare but with much expectations on the part of the people wanting change and the emergence of an era of ethics in politics, the new President and the newly installed government officially declared the beginning of ‘good governance’ through the dynamics of a ‘national government.’ That was in January 2015.

Now, in August 2015, where do we stand? Have we transgressed beyond the banana republic or have we established beyond doubts its inevitability? True, the seemingly sobering presence of Maitripala Sirisena and Ranil Wickramasinghe offered a breathing space that the country had not experienced in a very long time. That moment was necessary, if Sri Lanka was to entertain any notions of rebuilding its overly dismantled democratic principles and traditions. Very clearly, the public sphere was invigorated as a result. Open and critical debates on the country’s political climate ensued. But the challenges faced in getting the much needed 19th Amendment passed in parliament and the inability to get the crucial 20th Amendment approved, showed that the art of mature political compromise with the future of the country as the only consideration, was not within easy reach of our politicians. It simply did not manifest within their imagination. In the post-January 2015 power equation, the much anticipated process of justice and investigations into corruption of the oligarchy suddenly seemed to stall even though this is what brought the people who ensured Sirisena’s victory together. From a distance, it seemed to me that at the ground level, the pragmatic space between people’s legitimate expectation for justice and ethics on one hand, and the government’s necessity to stabilize itself in an environment of political hostility and intrigue on the other, was not readily appreciated by people at the time. Or more accurately, they did not want to let go of the breathing space they had carved out amidst immense difficulties. The voting pattern in the August 2015 general election, offering power – though not by a great margin – to the same equation that came to prominence in January, further indicates this continuing hope. 

But post-January politics also indicated other disturbing trends, which continue well into the present. It appeared that the President was a man with no political friends. He did not seem to have any control over crucial political decisions that the government was making including foreign policy, and appeared to be in a situation of political limbo. He spelt out some of these difficulties and his thoughts on these issues in a televised address to citizens, which further entrenched with much clarity his thinking and what was possible within the UNP-led government as well as in his own party. Within his own political formation, much of the difficulties the President experienced were due to the SLFP and UPFA being dominated by individuals across the political landscape of these entities whose loyalty is to the oligarchy and to the former president. And the Patriarch of the oligarchy and his band of not-so-merry men refused to leave the political arena. In this context, the President assuming the duties as Chairman of the SLFP effectively meant nothing other than making very clear his own lack of ability to manoeuvre in the dark and treacherous alleys of power struggle that the SLFP and the UPFA are now going through.

Given his lack of control and inability to act decisively to clean up his own party due to stated fears of bifurcating the party and the coalition into pro and anti-oligarchy segments, the SLFP showed clear signs of working like a drug cartel more typical of the bad lands of Mexico and Columbia than a political party responsive to the electorate. Rajapaksa chaired many of these decision-making meetings in much the same way as drug kingpins in South and Central America did with their cartels. As such, despite the rhetoric of the sovereignty of the nation and other seemingly lofty ideals emanating from the pro-oligarchy bandwagon, the entire nomination process of the SLFP and the UPFA was a matter of criminal and dubious elements within these entities being nominated to contest the August 2015 elections to ensure their own political and personal survival. The process that made this possible was completely deaf to the very vocal discourse against corruption, political violence and the clamour for ethics in politics that was consistently articulated by concerned groups and the media. The UNP, in this context, was able to come off as the better of the two necessary evils in a country where a viable third option does not exist. 

When the elections were actually held, many of these criminal elements from the SLFP-UPFA combination were not only re-elected to parliament by the people, but re-elected with significant majorities in many cases. Not only that, similarly dubious characters from the UNP albeit the fact that that they have not held state power for nearly two decades were also elected to parliament. So despite the expectations of justice, we can also see that a very large segment of our population is so incredibly illiterate in political terms. They seem singularly incapable of voting on principles and by taking into account established track records of individual politicians. The people who voted for the UPFA in large numbers also displayed their inability to see beyond divisive tribalist politics that the oligarchy-led UPFA spearheaded during the parliamentary election. It is this lack of political maturity that failed to bring in more reasonable individuals to parliament though there was some choice. It is this lack of political literacy that ensured the relative failure of the JVP campaign despite its program based on ethics and integrity. Even though some commentators have noted the defeat of extremist elements such as the BBS in the election, this is only a partial understanding. True, the political arm of the BBS, the BJP, lost heavily in the election. But the positions this entity entertained were also very squarely represented in the pro-oligarchy campaign. Of the 95 seats that the UPFA won, at least 60 are claimed to be in support of oligarchic politics and therefore the political virulence it represented. 

And now, after the results of the election have been declared, the National List of the SLFP has been re-formulated to bring back to parliament some of the worst enemies of democracy and decency, such as S.B Disssanayake, though they have been clearly rejected by the electorate. The argument of course is that they ‘lost’ because they ‘supported’ the President. If they supported the President on principled grounds and lost, that should have been accepted, and they should have gracefully left politics. If they supported him for personal survival and lost, why should the people who voted them out be affronted by their re-induction into parliament by legal but dubious means? This action, more than his relative inability to act decisively prior to the parliamentary poll, has seriously dented the President’s credibility as a leader who is guided by ethics. Obviously, he has shown that he can be more easily moved by political expediency. It also does not help that he publically offered the recently retired cricketer, Kumar Sangakkara, the position of High Commissioner to London, a typical act of the kind of patronage politics that have come to define the thinking of our politicians. Her experience in politics notwithstanding, the Prime Minister offering the same post to Rosy Senanayake a few days earlier can also be considered an act in the same vein. What a sad story of the idea of good governance and what a sad understanding of how the country’s Foreign Service should look like! To her credit, Senanayake is reported to have turned down the offer in the name of serving the causes she has committed herself to. One hopes that Sangakkara would exercise the commonsense and decency he has exhibited as a sportsman and not accept this crude political appointment. 

So we have had two elections at incredible cost to the country within seven months. We have indicated our hopes and aspirations for change and justice. We have also fairly loudly indicated our political immaturity by re-electing individuals to parliament despite their established track records of wrong-doing. As we move beyond August and horse-trading between political formations over the distribution of ministerial portfolios comes to an end, a new government will ultimately take shape. Whether its shape would be decided by issues such as ethics, justice and national interests or political expediency and personal survival of political power players remains to be seen. And it would be ‘seen’ even though many of our franchise-wielding voters unfortunately would not recognize it. Weather justice and war against corruption would be a reality or a convenient set of slogans used during elections and discarded soon after, also remains to be seen. 

Until our circumstances radically change with the emergence of political leaders guided by ethics and not by self-interest, it will not be possible for us to come into an era of civility in politics. Until that happens, our continued and inevitable imprisonment in the banana republic seems self-evident. That seems to be our karma – for the moment.

(also published in: http://groundviews.org/2015/08/29/the-inevitability-of-the-banana-republic/
and http://www.ft.lk/article/464769/The-inevitability-of-the-banana-republic)

Sunday, August 9, 2015

වැලපුනු හද


Kandy, July 2015











ඉකිබින්දත් හද
ගොලූකරමින් වදන් විශ්වය
සැනෙකින් උපන්
දිගන්තයක් සේ හැගුනු විරාමයක,
කඳුලැල්නම් ඇද නොහැලූනි දෙනෙතින්
පෙන්වන්නට ලොවටත් ඇයටත් මටත්
වැලපුනු බැව් හද.


වසන්ත් කුන්ජ්, නව දිල්ලිය, 27 ජූලි 2015

Saturday, April 25, 2015

Gender Conflict & Security: Ethics of Writing

Madam President, colleagues and friends, good morning.

A very warm welcome to the Department of International Relations, Faculty of Social Sciences and the South Asian University.


It is good to see the sheer hard work my colleague Shweta Singh has put in, and perhaps the many sleepless nights she might have endured, have borne fruit. I have always tried to convince my colleagues that intellectual outreach programs initiated by the Faculty of Social Sciences, such as this conference, must not necessarily be only about intellectual curiosity or policy implications per se, but also about the sophistication in conceptualization, a sense of style in delivery and above all, being sensitive in self-consciously achieving some semblance of collective South Asian reality, if one claims a certain program is about perspectives from this region. And this conference makes that claim. Sometimes we achieve these goals. At other times, despite the rhetoric of regionalism, we don’t move too far beyond the long shadows of the nation states of India and Pakistan. And then, South Asia becomes a reductionist non-entity. This conference, it seems to me has achieved these ideals by putting together a series of practices as a matter of conscious policy. I must thank Dr Singh and her colleagues in the IR Department, UN women and the Swiss embassy for ensuring this outcome.

In terms of ritual, I have been asked to do something called “setting the context”. I don’t have the foggiest idea what this really means despite the seeming clarity of these two words. It seems to me that the context must have been set at the time the conference was conceived and fine-tuned over time. In that sense, it is preconceived, but linked to anticipations and hopes of what is expected to be achieved. On the other hand, discursive practices that emerge from dynamic events like conferences have the ability to transgress beyond set plans to become something truly path-breaking or fall well below anticipations. Only the future would tell us what truly transpired. As such, I would leave it up to your deliberations to either work within your anticipated context or better, move beyond it. But surely, I cannot be the author for setting this context.

Instead, let me say a few things that came to my mind when I read the concept note, went through the topics and some of the abstracts of the papers that would be presented as well as the structure of the conference itself. I hope my thoughts would be at least minimally coherent. 

I have been convinced for a considerable time that International Relations as a discipline globally, needs to move out of its straight jacket which typifies its practice in most parts of the world, and transgress into other areas of academic practice which I am sure would enrich the discipline. One can be hopeful this is what the discipline at South Asian University might be doing. In this context, I was immediately struck by Dr Singh’s and her fellow organizing committee members’ interest in initiating a series of cross disciplinary conversations involving sociology, anthropology, political science and economics while not losing site of the general location of the conference in International Politics and Peace Studies. This anticipation and ideological premise seem to have been significantly realized already going by the kinds of disciplinary domains different people at this conference come from.

Let me now briefly dwell on some ethical issues that one has to ideally come to terms with, when dealing with issues squarely located in the realms of violence, conflict and security. After all, most of you will be discussing issues of gender in the contexts of conflict, war and post war, in the context of which ethics of writing is a central issue. Though this seems commonsensical at one level, it also seems like an unresolved enigma at yet another level, particularly as we read anthropological literature that deals with violence in our part of the world and beyond. More specifically, we need to be concerned about attempting to communicate pain and narratives of survival over violence that so closely and intimately touch the lives of many amongst us. Writing way back in 1990, Veena Das made the following observations which have occupied my conscience ever since as a fellow scribe of violence: 
A crucial issue here is whether the form evolved in writing about survivor experience is simply used to titillate. Does it tear the facts of violence out of context? Does the author stand in relationship of a voyeur to the narratives of suffering? Most of the work on survivors done in this context would suggest that the distinction between the author and his/her subjects dissolves in the study of violence. To be the scribe of human experience of suffering creates a special responsibility towards those who suffer. While there cannot be a single answer to the nature of this responsibility, one cannot simply hide behind the axiological neutrality of Max Weber. We shall have to ask: did we take this responsibility seriously?
So have we taken this responsibility seriously? Do we take this responsibility seriously? And have you taken this responsibility seriously? Personally, I could never find a fool-proof way to address this issue. May be some of you in your own writings such as what you would present today and tomorrow might have worked out ways to do this. Let me end my thoughts with reference to a related incident that came from the world of visual culture and not scholarship. As part of a very complex and thought-provoking installation, when Sri Lankan painter Jagath Weerasinghe painted the shadowy image of a woman going from one site of illegal detention to another in search of her missing son in the context of that country’s entrenched political violence in the 1980s and claimed that he was speaking to the world on her behalf, he was essentially making two claims: One, was the claim that the woman was the eternal victim and bearer of grief in situations of conflict; and two, his unilateral decision to appropriate her voice, supposedly on her behalf. I brought this example into my thoughts for two reasons: 

One is to ask the simple question, how different is this appropriation of voice in this case from our own appropriation of other voices in the name of scholarship? Or, is it not different at all? Research is all about appropriating voices and making them our own. That is what conferences often do, though there are perhaps ways to mitigate these circumstances. My intention here is not to discomfort you, but to bring to focus an issue that many of us have found convenient to ignore in recent times.

The second is a plea for methodological innovation in the study of issues such as violence, conflict and gender. I wondered how International Relations scholarship, or for that matter the practice of sociology and anthropology might look like, if we explored these issues through visual culture, creative writing, music and so on which might have an imprint of temporality and the politics of those times embedded in them, including conflict. Would we see the world differently but come to similar conclusions as scholars not using such subjective and seemingly unscientific approaches? But given the constructed-ness of science itself, I am personally not too concerned about these anxieties. But it would be interesting if my colleagues at some future point can think on similar lines without disrupting the core tenets of our respective ‘disciplines.’ Who knows, it might be worth the effort.


Let me not take too much of your time. I hope I would be fortunate enough to listen to at least some of your presentations. It does not help Madam President, when a scholar is made into an academic bureaucrat simply because he has a few more grey hairs than some others. But then, when dreams are at stake and when a vision still remains to be realized which are quotidian considerations in our university, personal idiosyncrasies and fantasies necessarily have to be retired, at least in the short term.

I wish you all the best and an intellectually stimulating two days at South Asian University.

Thanks for your time.

(Opening Remarks made at the international conference on ‘Gender Conflict & Security: Perspectives from South Asia,’ April 23, 2015, Faculty of Social Sciences, South Asian University, New Delhi)