September 1, 2002

In the middle of the room is a frayed straw mat that is broken at the corners. Placed near the straw mat is a wooden bench that extends across the width of the room. Two rows of children sit on both sides of the bench. Their books are placed on the bench. They are reciting their lesson. Their bodies rock back and forth as they recite Arabic verses mechanically, without understanding, without reflecting. This is rote learning.

In a few minutes, the repetition of the verses will imprint a pattern on their memory and they will move on to the next verse. This is how hundreds of madressah students start their school day across the country.

Pakistan’s madressah system of Islamic education has come under intense scrutiny in the wake of the attacks in the United States on September 11, 2001. The debate evokes images of jihad, warfare training, terrorism and an archaic system of education. Most of these perceptions are a result of generalizations and oversimplification of a complex phenomenon. Madressahs do indeed play a role in violence and conflict but they also have a key place in Pakistan’s religious and social life.

There are five distinct types of madressahs in Pakistan, divided along sectarian and political lines. The two main branches of Sunni Islam in South Asia — Deobandi and Bareilvi — dominate this sector. All provide free Islamic education, with a sectarian bias. Madressahs also offer free boarding and lodging to students who come mainly from the poorer strata of society and not necessarily from the communities they are based in. Though some middle-class and rich families also send their children to madressahs for Quranic lessons and memorization, they are usually day students.

At a madressah pupils learn how to read, memorize, recite and render the Quran properly. Exegeses of the holy script and other branches of Islamic studies are introduced at the higher stages of learning. Madressahs issue certificates equivalent to a Bachelor’s and Master’s degree. A madressah system’s university for higher religious education is called a Darul Uloom (house of knowledge). The products of the system are huffaz-i-Quran (those who memorize the holy book in full), qaris (those who can recite it aloud with the proper Arabic pronunciation) and ulema (religious scholars and teachers of one school of thought or the other).

Their job market is predestined and narrow: graduates will work only in mosques, madressahs, the parent religious/sectarian party and its affiliate businesses or organizations. The objective of the madressah is to introduce Muslim children to basic Quranic teachings, promote an Islamic ethos in society and groom students for religious duties. It is a quirk of history that these religious schools are now associated with violent domestic turmoil and international terror.

Schools of religious studies and the clergy were never as numerous and powerful in Pakistan as today. At Independence in 1947, there were only 137 madressahs in Pakistan. According to a 1956 survey, there were 244 madressahs in all of West Pakistan. Since then, even by official accounts, their number has doubled every ten years. A significant number remain unregistered.

Nobody is sure how many madressahs actually exist. Pakistan’s minister for religious affairs, Dr Mahmood Ahmed Ghazi, puts the figure at 10,000, though he acknowledges the problem of definition and suspects it could be higher, with as many as one million to 1.7 million students attending classes at least for short periods. Most of the madressah students do not complete their education or appear for the final graduation examinations.

One expert has estimated that, by 1995, 20,000 of them were likely to graduate as maulanas (holders of the highest madressah certificate) of one sect or the other, in addition to the 40,000 who had graduated since 1947. The vast majority of madressah students are in the age range of 5-18 years. Only those going for higher religious studies are above that age.

Ministry officials speculate that 10 to 15 per cent of madressahs might have links with sectarian militancy or international terrorism. The government itself admits all these statistics are unreliable. The lack of credible data makes reform more problematic. It also underscores both the extent of official neglect and, conversely, the special treatment received by a select group of madressahs.

Recruited from the Deobandi seminaries in the Pakhtoon areas of Pakistan, the Taliban have drawn the international community’s attention to the madressah phenomenon. Madressahs were already seen as “supply lines for jihad” in the Soviet Afghan war during General Ziaul Haq’s rule in the 1980s. Jihadi organizations, recruiting students from a section of these schools, are also held responsible for sectarian killings in Pakistan and the armed insurgency in Kashmir.

But violence in the name of religion neither originated at madressahs nor is their defining characteristic. Madressahs associated with jihad and sectarian and international terrorism are easily recognizable and must not be confused with those that are a normal part of Pakistani life. Both types, however, pose different degrees of threats to Pakistan’s stability and international security.

Militancy is only a part of the madressahs problem. The phenomenon of jihad is independent of madressahs and most of the jihadis do not come from these schools. Pro-jihad madressahs only play a supporting role, mainly as a recruiting ground for militant movements. Most madressahs do not impart military training or education but they do sow the seeds of extremism in the minds of the students.

In the foundations of the traditional madressah are the seeds of factional, political, religious, and cultural conflict. Based on sectarian identities, madressahs are, by their very nature, mutually exclusive, driven by a mission to outnumber and dominate rival sects. Students are educated and trained to counter arguments of opposing sects on matters of theology, jurisprudence and doctrines. Promoting a particular sect inevitably implies rejection of the others. So, ‘Radd’ literature — the ‘logical’ refutation of the belief system of other sects, aimed at proving them infidels or apostates — is a main feature of the literature produced by madressah-based parties. In short, madressah education and upbringing aim to indoctrinate with an intolerance of other religious systems.

All that said, madressahs do serve many useful functions for about a third of all children in education. They provide free basic literacy through Quranic lessons and Arabic texts. Students are also trained in theological studies, jurisprudence and polemics. The clergy they produce conduct religious rituals and ceremonies and run mosques, all essential functions in Muslim societies. All major madressahs also issue edicts on matters ranging from divorce to inheritance disputes, and people come to madressahs for religious counselling.

“Madressahs save people from a life of sin, by advising them according to the Quran and Sunnah,” says Abul Khair Muhammad Zubair, a Barelvi scholar who is chief mufti of Sindh province. Homeless and displaced people are given sanctuary. Madressahs house thousands of poor people who otherwise lack access to formal education. Madressahs address many needs of their communities and serve an important humanitarian role. Mosques and madressahs are thus the focal points of individual and corporate philanthropy in Pakistan.

The crux of the problem comes down to the type of education the madressah imparts. Education that creates barriers to modern knowledge, stifling creativity and breeding bigotry, has become the madressahs’ defining feature. It is this foundation on which fundamentalism — militant or otherwise — is built.

Is it possible to reform this extremism by replacing intolerance through a modern curriculum? Can an austere and rigid system of teaching coexist with modern arts and sciences? The ulema running these seminaries in Pakistan and the Musharraf government agree that reforms can — and should — be carried out.

This apparent agreement on the introduction of compulsory modern education is, however, riddled with contradictions. Any suggestion of change in the traditional sector of Islamic instruction makes the clergy suspicious of government intentions. They are willing to teach non-religious subjects but ‘secularization’ is their worst fear, and they vow fiercely to resist it. The clergy have a long and successful history of opposing governmental reform plans and preserving the religious bias and traditional format of madressah education. Madressahs have become the fiefdoms of their clerics, who jealously safeguard autonomy because it gives them unchecked control of finances, their students and what they are taught.

The Musharraf government’s dilemma lies in Pakistan’s political history, in which the military has retained state power at the expense of democracy and socio-economic development. To prolong their rule, military governments have formed domestic alliances, including with the clergy. In this process, civil society has been undermined and bigotry has flourished. For instance, madressahs multiplied under Musharraf’s predecessor, Ziaul Haq. The military is now reaping a harvest of militancy the seeds of which were sown a quarter of a century ago.

The tussle over reforms between the Musharraf government and the madressahs should also be placed in a wider historical perspective. Every civilian and military government has formulated plans to reform the madressah system. Yet reconciling “a 12th century worldview” with modernity has remained an intractable proposition. Despite state intervention, the curricula are still based on traditional literature and teaching methods. Their rationale of existence remains virtually unchanged and as emotive as ever: to defend the faith of Islam — if need be through jihad.

That is why madressah reform is a litmus test for the credibility and political will of General Musharraf’s government. To gain domestic legitimacy and external support, he has vowed to end militancy carried out in the name of Islam and religious exploitation. Militant fundamentalism, the government argues, cannot be checked without managing madressahs.

But the madressah phenomenon cannot be reduced to terrorism nor understood in isolation from civil-military relations, Pakistan-India conflicts, and the larger question of separation of state and religion. The Pakistani state partly shares the madressah worldview or uses it selectively for political purposes. To institute radical reforms and bring religious education closer to mainstream education requires redefining the military’s internal policies and external preferences. It is unclear whether the Musharraf government is willing to do either.