Pakistan has been left behind in the field of education, not just as compared to the developed countries but also in our own region. How has this situation come about?
Since the country came into being, our policymakers have given education a low priority. Consequently, Pakistan has been spending just over two per cent of its GNP on education, when Unesco recommends that the figure should be at least four per cent.
The problem of poor higher education has been compounded over the years by the advice given by international agencies recommending a lower priority for higher education.
The International Task Force on Higher Education set up in 2000, and funded, amongst others, by the World Bank, admits that the developing countries were wrongly advised.
While efforts must be made to maintain quality, the numbers are important. Pakistan has 20 million youth between the ages of 17-23, but only 2.6 per cent of them are enrolled in higher education institutions.
Our neighbours including India and Iran have an enrolment figure in this age group that is four to five times higher than ours. In some developed countries, this figure is 70 per cent.
Since it costs ten times more to fund PhDs abroad, the HEC has developed an indigenous PhD scheme. Since the country was producing as few as 50 PhDs annually, there was a need for a major policy initiative, and the indigenous PhD programme caters to precisely that.
Financial incentives to both students and faculty have kick-started the programme which is relatively new with room for improvement. A good starting point could be to improve the qualifying exam being set for applicants for the PhD programme by the HEC.
For the first time in Pakistan's history, education is being given its rightful place in terms of the funds allocated to it by the government. Since the last three years, with the financial squeeze on higher education over, public sector universities are undergoing a sea change.
New equipment in our research laboratories, well-equipped computer laboratories and better access to journals and books are helping to facilitate serious research. With the number of private and public universities growing over the last ten years, there is an increasing demand for the limited, highly trained faculty that is available in the Pakistani market.
This has led to a rise in their market value, and they are being offered high salaries by the private sector. The public sector universities are finding it increasingly difficult to retain them, especially the social scientists among them.
Financial incentives for publishing research articles and supervising research of M.Phil and PhD students is encouraging our faculty to be more productive. It also helps the public sector retain them when the private sectors, including the NGOs, have a much bigger salary package to offer.
To hark back to the 60s and 70s when there were student unions and to suggest that discourse amongst the students then was of a high intellectual and ideological level is misplaced nostalgia.
Since the demise of the Soviet Union, ideological debates are moribund on the campuses of the leading universities of the world. Regarding the ethnic and sectarian strife on Pakistani campuses, it is only the Quaid-i-Azam University, which had warring ethnic councils, but they were banned two years ago and have ceased to exist.
A revival of the student unions will turn our campuses into a battleground for the student wings of different political parties. Surely what happened at the Punjab University should be a lesson for all of us.
A majority of the Indian universities are mediocre at best. It is only the half a dozen Indian Institutes of Technology and the Indian Institutes of Management and the Jawaharlal University, which have any kind of international standing.
Would any serious opinion leader in either China or India advocate imports of a large number of academics from say the US or Germany to man their public sector universities? It is an idea borrowed from the American scholar Stephen Cohen's book The Idea of Pakistan, but then Cohen has a problem with the whole concept of the creation of Pakistan.
Education is not only about abstract research, but also about history, culture, values and national identity. I have taught at the Quaid-i-Azam University for over 25 years.
Nothing could be further from the truth than to allege that teaching there is by rote and that the students are not allowed to ask questions or have discussions in the classroom.
There might be a few exceptions, but lectures and classes are held in an atmosphere of academic and intellectual freedom, and students are encouraged to have critical and open discussions.
Seminars and talks, in the social sciences at least, are frequently held. However, this is not to argue that there are no problems with the system. There must be more accountability of the faculty, especially through course evaluation by the students. There is always room for improvement, but it does not mean we condemn the system.
The writer is an Allama Iqbal Fellow, Wolfson College, Cambridge.
A crying shame
By M.P. Bhandara
There is a blot of shame on the fair name of Pakistan. And each one of us, who has the means and the power to do something about it but chooses to be silent, bears the burden of this guilt.
The story is familiar enough. On December 16, 1971, the Pakistan created by the Quaid-i-Azam, was lost. A sizable population who had migrated from Bihar to East Pakistan at the time of partition were declared non-citizens by the new Bangladesh government. Being culturally and linguistically different, they had not fully integrated with the people of East Pakistan.
During the civil war in East Pakistan between March and December 1971, they readily opted to defend a united Pakistan. The army used (and abused) them as human shields for the more dangerous operations.
For this crime, they have never been forgiven by the people of Bangladesh. After the war, they were herded into unsanitary ghettos on a virtually prison diet. They were branded as "traitors", and this mark of infamy remains on their children and even their children's children to this day.
These "traitors" are now considered as "pariahs" by Pakistan that has stopped owning them for the reason that, on migration here, they are likely to settle in Sindh and join the ethnic political ranks of New Sindhis. The estimate of those now eligible for repatriation is said to be between 100,000 and 150,000.
How cynical can we get as a nation? We can tolerate the presence of a million plus illegals from Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, Burma and Afghanistan in Karachi but we shut the door tight on our "own" citizens.
We don't recognize them as ours on the specious plea that they had migrated to East Pakistan. The logical tailpiece of this reasoning is that our eastern province was never considered part of the nation.
We accepted four million Afghan refugees in the 1980s and beat our breast in the name of Islamic solidarity. The truth is there was little solidarity but a case of push come to shove on a porous border.
Pakistan's selective Islamic solidarity extends to Palestinians and Kashmiris, but not to Kurds in Iraq (when they were gassed) or the Sudanese in Darfur (currently in the throes of a genocide) and above all, to our own stranded "citizens" who made the mistake of their lives by siding with the Pakistan army and not the Mukti Bahini during the 1971 civil war, which is now commonly referred to as war of the Bangladesh liberation.
We choose to look the other way. This ugly blip is longer on our political radar screen. Islamic solidarity has suddenly vanished. Our rejection of these people exposes a visible crack in the mirror of Pakistan.
It calls into question the two-nation theory. Let us be honest and say that this theory was a means to an end and not an end in itself. The theory apparently died long ago when Pakistan was transformed "from a homeland for the Indian Muslims" to a theocratic Islamic state.
In any case, mass migration in the subcontinent is no longer possible and in the context of over 125 million Muslims in India, the two-nation theory does not seem to be operative for the time being.
This dichotomy on what Pakistan is or is not is the root cause of our carefully developed hypocrisy, double standards and sectarian violence. We have moved from one concept to another but find ourselves in limbo.
No wonder, the better part of our educated youth is alienated. The Quaid's concept of Pakistan was a liberal, humanizing, outward-reaching modern state, which was a homeland for those Muslims of the subcontinent who chose to migrate at the time of partition.
The Quaid gave us the right direction, but instead, we have entered a black hole of pseudo-religiosity and are struggling to get out of it. Our amnesia on the stranded Pakistani issue calls into question our singular devotion to the Kashmir cause.
How is a suffering Kashmiri any different from a ghettoed Pakistani in Bangladesh? Both are Muslim. Does this not smack of hypocrisy and double standards? The former is regarded as a mazloom, the latter a "pariah".
It must be heartrending to hear these "pariahs" sing the Pakistani national anthem and see them hoist our flag in the ghettos of Bangladesh on our national days.
The Rabita Trust Fund founded in 1988 succeeded in repatriating a few hundred families. It was frozen in 2001 and the process has since stopped. It is a shame that we must invite outside money to bring home our own citizens.
Have we lost all honour? We seem to have plenty of funds for all types of grandiose projects under the sun but cannot allocate a couple of hundred million rupees each year to recommence the process.
The government should meet the costs of improving the living condition in camps in Bangladesh, open schools and vocational centres and take immediate steps to repatriate 200 to 300 families annually and settle them in the Punjab. Where integration is possible in Bangladesh this should be encouraged by fiscal and other means.
Our parliament has a Kashmir committee on which millions are spent on members romping the globe to highlight the Kashmir cause with marginal results; the National Assembly can spend time to discuss the shortage of Sui gas in some remote town, it can spend hours to discuss the infringement of minor privileges of members, but it has never found the time to discuss the issue of stranded Pakistanis in Bangladesh. Not being true to ourselves shames all of us.
The writer is a member of the National Assembly
Email: murbr@isb.paknet.com.pk.
Reversal of rights
By Javed Jabbar
On December 28, 2004, in Islamabad, President Pervez Musharraf presided over a meeting attended by the prime minister, the federal minister for local government, the chief ministers of all four provinces, the chairman of the National Reconstruction Bureau and some senior officials to discuss aspects of the local government system introduced in 2000-2001.
Of several decisions announced, the most regressive one was to reduce the membership of a union council from 21 as implemented in 2000-2001 to 13 as has been decided in 2004.
With 33 per cent of seats in each union council being reserved for women for the first time in our history through the new system, the largest prospective casualty of this terrible decision are the women of Pakistan.
There are 6,022 union councils, about 350 towns and tehsils and 102 districts. With an average of six women elected on reserved seats - and some on general and other quota seats - along with others elected to tehsil and district councils, about 40,000 women had gained electoral offices at the most fundamental level of democracy and governance.
From reaching this unprecedented number out of a total of about 125,000 councillors elected in 2001, the representation of women will now be reduced almost overnight by two-thirds or by at least one half - from about six to seven members per union council at present, to only about two or three.
It is unlikely that women will be able to win many more seats on the remaining 10 general seats. Reserved seats for women are not the ideal method to ensure participation and representation of this gender in the institutions of policy and governance.
But we live in conditions in which women suffer from extraordinary deprivation and disadvantages that will take several years to reduce. Even in countries more advanced than our own, women remain without a fair share of opportunities.
In our specific situation, the allotment of one-third of seats becomes a catalyst to at least partially correct deeply-rooted disparities. We are in a region that already has the shameful status of an adverse gender ratio.
There are approximately about 94 women for every 100 men (as per the census published in 2001) compared to almost all other regions of the world where there are 106 women for every 100 men.
The intended reduction will be a huge setback. As it is, in Pakistan, the participation of women in the electoral process and in elective institutions is still deficient. The new local government system introduced in 2000-2001 redressed historic under-representation.
Even though some of the several thousands of women elected for the first time are merely mute and obedient versions of domineering local males, the sheer physical presence of women in local bodies in large numbers for the first time had begun to make a palpable difference in the ambience and process of governance at the grassroots level.
Several other thousands of women councillors seized the opportunity to become articulate and courageous representatives of their gender. They have also became diligent and enthusiastic representatives of their community's rights, regardless of gender, or other divisions.
Perhaps this is precisely why the male-dominated four provincial governments are reported to have vigorously advocated the reduction in the reserved seats for women even though just a few days earlier, the chief minister of Punjab stated that the union council is the pivotal unit of governance and that it should be strengthened.
The opposition of the provincial governments through their respective chief ministers to the growing empowerment of women reflects conventional male dominance of the administrative hierarchies.
At the same time, the move to slash women's seats at the grassroots level mirrors the vast gaps that exist between perceptions at the union council level and at the provincial government level.
Just as the provincial governments and the federal government view each other with unease, discord and mistrust in respect of the sharing of financial resources, water resources and constitutionally mandated subjects, so too there prevails alienation and incomprehension between a union council and the headquarters of each provincial government.
In a system in which primary school teachers at the village level are often arbitrarily appointed on a partisan basis from provincial headquarters, the attempt made to strengthen union councils was viewed with reflexive hostility by the provincial governments.
Thus, the attitude of the provincial governments towards union councils goes beyond gender biases and is, per se, an attempt to retain entrenched and centralized interests over local, community interests.
However, the retrogressive decision of December 28 retains an anti-women dimension for two main reasons. Firstly, with an average population of between 25,000 to 40,000 in each union council, 21 councillors were meant to provide representation to at least 1,000 to 2,000 people per councillor.
In a country with high levels of poverty, this ratio was already a difficult mandate to fulfil for candidates and councillors. With our population growth continuing at about 2.5 per cent and with millions of children set to become adults over the next 10 years, the size of the adult population in each union council eligible to become voters is going to grow.
Thus, at the very time when consideration should have been given to increasing the size of the union council, and to the representation of women, the very opposite has been done.
Along with other fellow citizens who work in the voluntary development process at the grassroots level, this writer has had the opportunity over the past five years to witness first hand how the reservation of one-third of the seats in each union council has began to make a critical difference to the status of women.
Suppressive barriers between genders that deprived women of participation are being broken. Males, long resistant to any kind of female presence in public processes and events, are being obliged to change their mindsets and behaviour. Women are using their own voices and their own words to directly express their views on vital issues.
In about 1,600 villages and poor urban communities in all four provinces in which two of the organizations are working with which this writer is directly associated, hundreds of women who had previously been part of our training and empowerment programmes, were elected councillors.
They have assumed a new self-confidence and asserted a promising new leadership capacity. Continued advancement in this direction is now going to be slowed and stalled.
Though women councillors at the local level enjoyed almost double the percentage (33 per cent) of seats reserved for women in the federal and provincial legislatures (17 per cent), they remained relatively "invisible" in the mainstream media over the past four years.
Perhaps this is why there has been very little comment, if any, in the media on this issue. Women members of the Senate, the National Assembly and the provincial assemblies received far more coverage and opportunities to project their viewpoints in the mainstream electronic and print media.
These "major" media themselves have a strong urban and centrist orientation whereas women councillors need access to local community-based media which are either negligible or non-existent.
It is revealing that on the issue of diminishing, rather than enlarging, the scale of local participation in local forums, all four chief ministers and provincial governments see eye to eye, regardless of party affiliation or ideological orientation.
Whereas the chief minister of the NWFP had previously declined to attend a meeting of the National Security Council under the president ship of a head of state who is also chief of army staff, the very same chief minister did not hesitate to attend this particular meeting on December 28, 2004, presided over by the same head of state-cum-chief of army staff where this damaging step was taken.
The camouflage used to conceal this anti-women and anti-local community decision was both innocuous and laughable. An official spokesman said: "The chief ministers were of the opinion that these changes were necessary to promote the working of the system and bring about harmony between the district and provincial governments".
Some of the other decisions taken at the same meeting are also of dubious value. For example, while the decision to hold the next local bodies polls in March-April 2005 on a non-party basis ostensibly prevents polarization and schisms at the community level, various political parties have already announced plans to support candidates.
This makes a mockery of the official label of "non-party based polls" It opens up prospects for overt manipulation and covert coercion before and after the voting.
The decision to replace the joint candidature of nazim and naib nazim with separate candidatures also deprives the local units of the virtues of electoral solidarity and cooperation between candidates: it encourages factionalism and personal rivalries in place of cohesion.
Raising women's representation to the level of 33 per cent in local government was truly a revolutionary step. Few other countries have done so. We proudly projected this measure across the world. It was a positive achievement in social and political progress.
The cruel irony is that two of those individuals associated with the original decision - the present president (and then-chief executive) and the present prime minister (and then-finance minister) have now become parties to a step that virtually reverses and promises to cancel out that landmark change introduced by a cabinet of which this writer was also a member (1999-2000).
A great leap forward has become a giant plunge downwards. It is a telling sign that the leadership of major political parties has not so far focused attention or the public's attention on a measure that will soon deprive the women of Pakistan of their right to representation in appropriate numbers.
This is a reversal which will be a grave setback to the process of national development. Some organizations of civil society have already declared their intention to oppose the move. All citizens, particularly males, have a duty to join the effort.
The writer is a former federal minister and senator.