Madrasa students and the myth of incompatibility
Not so long ago, I wrote a piece about the misconceptions and cultural othering that madrasa students are subjected to and why it is important to accept diversity. After it was published, there were mixed reactions. While some readers acknowledged the need for efforts to integrate these students into the mainstream society, others shrugged off their education system as obsolete. Following the arguments in the comments thread, interesting as it was, I was disturbed to notice a pattern to sabotage the debate with vague, unfounded claims and insinuations.
Last week, after reports surfaced that Dhaka University would accept madrasa students in seven departments that were previously off-limits to them, I noticed the same pattern trying to dismiss pro-diversity voices as humbug. Apparently, some people are allergic to healthy debate when it comes to Islamic education and the system that provides that education.
What happened in Dhaka University was the result of long, passionate activism for the rights of madrasa students to sit for admission tests in those departments—including English, Bangla, International Relations, Women and Gender Studies, and Linguistics—which require 200 marks each in Bangla and English in HSC or equivalent exams to be eligible for admission. Madrasa students can now fulfil that requirement, thanks to a curriculum change made in 2013 by the Bangladesh Madrasah Education Board.
This change, which also removed barriers in other universities with similar mark discrepancies, is partly a response to concerns about institutional discrimination facing the madrasa students. How we view and respond to these changes, and the conditions in which these were set in motion, will determine the likelihood of their success.
As fresh madrasa graduates rejoice at the news of admission eligibility, there is room for reflection for students from previous years who just as well could have had the same opportunity if not for a precondition that has long eluded us. To say that it was to guard against infiltration of theo-fascist elements would be erroneous, as evidence suggests that madrasas, especially those following the Alia system, aren't necessarily breeding grounds for theo-fascism.
It's strange that the vice-chancellor of DU would use this very occasion to boast about his institution's openness to students from all backgrounds. However, the fact that it took our policymakers so long to eliminate these discrepancies only reinforces the "us versus them" narrative and the manipulative interpretation of madrasa education not being compatible with modern education.
It was also disturbing to read some of the reactions to the news of eligibility, some of which clearly bordered on bigotry. Some people, in the absence of anything better to say, unleashed profane rants against madrasa students. Some were more guarded in their reaction, however, focusing on the banality of the situation. While talking to a national daily, a well-known commentator, whose views on political and religious affairs are often sought and cited, said that he doesn't support this "attempt to adjust modern education system to a religious one" because the mixture of students from madrasa and general boards "may cause complexity."
He, however, stopped short of explaining what kind of complexity that might be. I wonder what he meant by that. From what I know of former madrasa students now studying in different universities, if there is any complexity to be worried about, it is being caused by those self-styled liberal thinkers who sit in judgment of a group of students they have absolutely no idea about.
A friend of mine, Rashed Saifuddin, who had studied at a madrasa, once described how he was treated during his entrance interview at Dhaka University's mathematics department. One professor told him that he should have gone for a Fazil degree (equivalent to Hon's). That was just a preamble to the kicker: "We're afraid of you guys. Why do you want to study math? You won't be able to finish your course, and a valuable seat will be lost."
Rashed, needless to say, did finish the four-year course and went on to pursue his PhD in applied mathematics at the prestigious University of New South Wales in Australia. But that one single encounter haunts him to this day.
But why would anyone be afraid of madrasa students in the first place? Fear takes hold when logic is replaced by paranoia. Fear takes hold when you refuse to face it. And fear can be irrational. In the West, the same kind of fear was attributed to Muslims in the aftermath of 9/11 and one maybe susceptible to that fear—the so-called "Islamophobia"—until one looks at the evidence. In our academia, fear or dislike or doubt about those from madrasa backgrounds is not the organic result of some bad people doing bad things. It is mostly a tool of manipulation used to manufacture consent for creating a condition in which only the literary mainstream will have the final say.
That said, fear—real or imagined—unless addressed, can grow to be a threat. I have no problem with healthy scepticism, and if there indeed is any concern about complexity and incompatibility being an issue for madrasa students, it should be dealt with. I think the best way to do this is by accommodating students from diverse backgrounds, so that they can interact more, learn about each other, thereby preparing themselves to meet the demands of a pluralistic society. Shutting out one group for the sake of another is not the answer.
When a student leaves madrasa to pursue a degree in university, he/she doesn't just leave behind a badge of identity. They leave behind a certain way of life in order to embrace a totally different one, with a dream, like every high-school leaver, to broaden their horizon and explore the endless possibilities of a university education. It's a matter of choice that can change their life forever. Let's respect that choice.
Badiuzzaman Bay is a member of the editorial team at The Daily Star.
Email: badiuzzaman.bd@gmail.com