The Marketization of Education in Pakistan

THE BUSINESS EXECUTIVE AS EDUCATOR 

Maryam Sakeenah

The sleek car that zoomed past sported a sticker telling passers-by that the owner was a ‘proud parent’ of a child at a certain institution. The pride of course was for the fact that this institution was exclusive to the privileged elite on account of its appallingly high tuition fee. My initial reaction was openmouthed disbelief. Eventually it sank in… the reason for the parent’s pride was not the child’s achievement or act of merit, but the fact that they could pay that outrageously high fee for a select, exclusive education. The distasteful sticker was issued, of course, by the school itself. The particular school happens to be top-notch within a system that metes out education according to buying power. It consists of schools varying in standards of education and resources according to the tuition fee rates. Such a system helps to perpetuate a rigid social stratification based on class, utterly ruining any semblance of meritocracy within which an education system truly delivers, making social mobility possible.

This is marketized education at its worst; education reduced to a commodity. It defies the idea that education is a universal birthright to better the lives of all human beings, and is an affront to egalitarian social ideals. And yet this marketization of education in urban Pakistan has been subtly under way since years, and no one batted an eyelid. Its consequences which are only beginning to show up, are nightmarish, privileging the financial elite by education, enabling them to be at the helm of positions of power and influence in the bureaucracy and industry, media and education. Those denied the privilege for their financial inability are forever condemned to menial working class positions demanding clerical servility to perpetuate the system made by and for the financial elite.

This has largely been made possible through the rise of the business executive as educator and policymaker. Graduates in business, marketing and management run administrations of educational institutions, equipped with all the clever arts of moneymaking, profiteering, competing and selling. They have never stood on the giving end of a classroom, are completely ignorant of human psychology and educational philosophy, unaware of the nuances of the complex process of learning. Trained in the art of selling for profit, they lack the vision to educate for the sake of education. They educate for business, and so function as indispensable, core elements of the commercialized private schooling system.

The great irony is when this system places the average business graduate as educational administrator over the academic, making and dictating educational policy. Such policy then is driven primarily by the profit motive. In this commercialized milieu, the educator, teacher and giver of knowledge is a worker in the system serving a clientele that generates the money. Hence the client is cosseted to perfect satisfaction for his money, and the educator slavedriven to provide that to impossible perfection. Teachers in Pakistan’s private schools continue to be heavily overworked and perpetually underpaid.    

The subjugation of the academic to the professional businessman is at the core of the marketization of education. Business graduates trained to keep up the utilitarian-capitalist economy administer the system, making policy that utterly lacks any understanding of the functions and nature of education as well as any genuine concern for social uplift, human empowerment and liberation through education. In my experience as a teacher, I have come across among most urban English-medium private schools a systematic and deliberate trend discouraging value education and traditional disciplines like oriental languages or religious studies because they have little material worth in a cutthroat economy. Students graduate with the ruinous notion that a spattering of accented English gives them the right to social superiority and is enough to sweep anyone off their feet; or that a skill at gadgetry is of highest value in landing oneself a high paying job. Their years of education often fail to humanize, enlighten and enrich them with wisdom, compassion or humility even as they sport all the paraphernalia of wealth and good taste. They are perfectly finished products of the system- cogs in the machine, and yet unable to truly live the enervating yet edifying epic struggles of human life.

In the private education system, the business graduate not only takes the fattest cheque home, he helps to keep in place the system that created him and put him over the educator, visionary and academic. The human products of marketized education are a tawdry triumph of this system that privileges a particular social class over the rest.   

Of being a woman...

THE PRESSURE TO LOOK 'RIGHT'

Maryam Sakeenah

In her article 'The Balancing Act of Being Female', Lisa Wade talks of how as a woman one has to conform to expectations of behaviour in varying situations; how it is a daily battle to play up to the demands an oversexed society puts on women. From dress to demeanour, all is sized up and judged for social appropriacy: when being flirty may be appealing, and what crosses the line into 'asking for it.' At the workplace it ought to be 'proper' but not in the least 'prudish', and a slight misdemeanour may just spill it over into inappropriately 'cheeky' and hence wholly undesirable.

It is a lot of pressure which most women agree to subject themselves to as they dress in the rightly sized heels to convey the attitude the occasion demands. Often, the pressure from the society is not recognized as it is mistaken for the woman's freedom and natural right to look good and feel desired. However, this may make women spend more than their ability to get that right sort of look to make them win the nod of approval from a society that objectifies femininity.

On the flip side, the pressure it builds on women who may look different, to conform and look like who they are not, is brutally oppressive. One of my teenaged students stopped me on my way to class, sniffling and holding back the torrent of tears, desperate for help. She said she wished to end her life because 'everyone hates me and makes fun of me because I am ugly and I am not feminine enough.' The girl was a brainy, hardworking one scoring excellent grades usually, but suffered terrible pressure from peers because she did not dress or wax or style her hair like other girls her age did. I was revolted by our collective inability to accept human beings as they are without trying to smooth the rough edges to make us all clones of the ideal stereotype set down by society.

The ideal stereotype is reinforced relentlessly through advertisements and the entertainment industry that creates images that exercise enormous influence on our minds. Grotesque billboards stare down at the city telling us how 'Slim is the in thing', while T.V commercials tell us that not having the latest brand of cellphone or the fairest skin tone makes one highly ineligible for marriage; and that people who stutter stand no chance at all for their appalling, socially incorrect inability. The images, stereotypes and values created by the entertainment, cosmetic and the advertising industries are brutally insensitive and build pressure on women to look, dress, act a certain way or be condemned to social marginalization. The materialist-commercial ethic  values physicality over and above all else, and this is far worse for women due to the commercial obsession with the woman's body for selling soap or cooking oil or cellphones.

The pressure this builds plays havoc with individual lives as it smothers the natural diversity of human beings. God made us in varying shapes, sizes, colours and personalities simply because that is how the world was meant to be. The colours made by God are painted in a tawdry plastic hue in one unvarying, flat stroke of sameness. Women mutilate their own bodies to feel more accepted: botox, nosejobs, liposuction and plastic surgeries have been steadily on the rise in this society.

In the context of all this, the Muslim veil takes on significance. For me, it has always meant a refusal to subject myself to judgement by a commercialized, oversexed society. It is immensely liberating from the pressure of having to conform to the social standard of how I ought to look. It is a refusal to allow myself to be judged merely by how I look or what I wear, a refusal to be subjected to the lustful stare of an onlooker. I spend far less on my clothes, hair and makeup than most women in my income bracket. The veil for me is liberty. Breaking me free from the fetters, it raises me onto a more spiritual and intellectual plane, and this defines my social interaction while deflecting attention away from physicality.
But then again, to be judged as more pious and holy than my veil-less counterparts is equally disconcerting. I wish we could just learn the simple lesson that human beings are more than the sum of all the clothes they wear. 

A Profane Spirituality

A PROFANE SPIRITUALITY

Maryam Sakeenah

Pakistani private television channels glamorously sport sensational televangelists to satiate the public appetite for spirituality amidst tawdry entertainment galore. The trend rockets in Ramadan when popular media faces don sobriety in cotton shalwar kameezes of subdued hues, skull caps and most alluring beaded scarves and chiffon dupattas. It sells.

This year once again we have on screen with all his guns blazing one of these popular televangelists known for his versatile talents in speaking, singing, making dramatic invocations and tear-stained supplications as well as skills one cannot mention at the family dinner table. The latter came to light in a leaked video that had recorded this ‘aalim’s behind-the-camera antics and escapades. There was great shock and horror at this most dramatic volte face from a simple-minded populace that loves hero-worship. The wiser ones chuckled, saying, ‘I told you so.’ The 'aalim' carried on with classic composure, invoking divine retribution for the liars behind the scandal in his usual flowery and flamboyant language. The dexterous televangelist  carries on with his repulsively seductive religious rhetoric aimed at the simplistic mass mindset.

Notwithstanding the public humiliation he underwent and the aggravated sentiment of his massive fan-following (largely female), the aalim stuck to his guns and emerged unscathed. There you have it- the aalim graces the screen of Pakistan’s most popular private television channel this Ramadan with an unbelievable audacity. In your face. What adds a flabbergasting twist to the tale is the fact that the earlier video had been allegedly publicized on youtube and elsewhere by this very channel which now advertises his program as its Ramadan highlight. The channel also must be credited with putting up this ignoramus of abysmal moral standing and dubious background as an 'aalim' before the Pakistani public in the first place. After his metamorphosis into an ‘Aalim Online’ thanks to this channel, the so-called aalim reappeared on a similar evangelical show on another channel having quit his mentors in the previous one. That is when appalling off-camera clips from his programs recorded for the first channel went viral. In a mind-boggling move, the aalim returns to this channel he had quit, reaffirming his loyalties and once again using his odious eloquence to seduce gullible minds.

The entire episode reeks of a most worrying and dangerous trend in Pakistani society. The commercialization of the mass media has taken a heavy toll on our most sacred values, marketizing the sacred, commodifying spirituality. Religion too is to be sold, like soap or whitening creams or cheap powder. It is embellished with a deliberate spirituality calculated to keep the viewer glued to the screen, packaged under brand names, presented by alluring faces in lighter shades of lipstick framed by an oceanic-blue-green or pristine white sequined scarf. For a more dramatic touch, the camera captures a little tear droplet streaming down the lightly painted face at the precise time when the camera zooms in. It is a winning advert- sure to guarantee a sizeable viewership of semi-literate housewives from all over the country.

The ethos of Islamic culture is simplicity. Spiritual practice is an intensely private matter, and when it is brazenly flaunted by exhibitionists it loses all sanctity. The individual’s faith is a matter between him and his Creator, and humility is the defining trait of the believer. Religiosity dripping from phony appearances, hairy faces appropriate for the occasion, titles, headgear exposes the emptiness, superficiality and hypocrisy of the trade. According to a hadith, ‘Allah does not look at your appearances, but He looks into your hearts.’

The Pakistani media has reached the lowest point of depravity with this marketization of spirituality. It steers directionless, blinded by the commercialist and competitive imperative, leading a nation wired into the matrix, frozen into a hypnotic trance like sleepwalking starry-eyed zombies.

The artifice, pretentiousness and even shameless hypocrisy of it all is a damning verdict on our collective morality as a society. I fear for the generation that grows up in and is socialized into this morass of values. When the persona of the 'religious scholar' is tarnished with debauchery, hypocrisy and showmanship; when spirituality is worn and flaunted for appropriacy according to the occasion; when our most sacred values are presented in such blatantly superficial and distasteful ways, I shudder to think of what we are dwindling into as a society and a nation, what papier mache ‘role models’ and inspiration we are leaving behind for our children.