Comment: Higher Education in Pakistan needs no more money

Dunya News

Unless this deep-seated resentment towards free speech and public engagement is overturned, universities in Pakistan will simply be degree mills. Photo: Reuters

By Yaqoob Khan Bangash

In Pakistan the lament of universities not having enough money is unending. Articles after articles are written on how in the West the universities are flush with money, and only if Pakistani universities had the same resources, they would be in the top twenty in the world. While on the surface this comparison is true, the real reason why Pakistani universities are lacking behind is not money.

Ever since the creation of the Higher Education Commission in 2002 the education budget, both at the federal and provincial level, has increased dramatically. There has also been a flourishing of universities, from about forty odd in 2002 to nearly two hundred now. While public sector universities have dramatically increased in numbers, it is the private sector where universities have mushroomed. Numbers were apparently supposed to improve universities and research, and yet, as shown by scholars like Professor Pervez Hoodbhoy, most research coming out of these universities is not even worth the paper it is printed on!

With the numbers game came the money game. It was thought that if you throw money at the academy some of it would stick and transform the milieu. But after more than a decade of spending money at substandard research, hollow conferences, and unmotivated and misguided students, only trash in the universities has increased, and no discernable change has come about. In fact, some rather decent universities like Quaid-e-Azam University, GC University Lahore, and others, have deteriorated.

So what is the real problem?

While there are lots of actual problems let me highlight just three.

First, there is no system of governance in universities. There is no reporting mechanism, no grievance redress model, and no accountability. In most universities, the Vice Chancellor is the kingmaker: please the Vice Chancellor and your life is made, annoy him and your life will become hell. Similarly, some deans and chairpersons think of themselves as local despots and since they wield a lot of power no one is able to speak against them. In a system where meritocracy and egalitarianism should be cherished, despotic behaviour abounds and replicates itself. Clear rules, transparent reporting mechanisms, and effective implementation of these are critical if any improvement is to be hoped.

One idea, among several, is for universities to appoint a retired high court or supreme court judge as an internal ombudsman. A number of our eminent jurists lie waste after retirement at either 62 or 65 and utilising them in this manner would make good use of their intellect and experience. Imagine that a lecturer has contended that his/her chairperson has done something illegal. In the current university setup, it would be almost impossible for anyone to even hear the hapless lecturer, let alone address the issues. In fact, since the lecturer would have tried to approach the powers to be, he/she would be thrown out under some odd pretext rather than heard. The appointment of an impartial ombudsman might not fully protect the lecturer from a reprisal, but the ombudsman’s work, and the effective implementation of his/her decision, will serve as a deterrence to those abusing power in the academy.

Secondly, universities should be encouraged to develop certain specialities and stick to them rather than becoming general universities. Only then some quality can be ensured. For example, in my discipline of history, there are half a dozen universities in Lahore alone which offer MPhil/PhD programmes. If you count their faculty numbers, experience and quality, it would become clear that perhaps one collaborative MPhil/PhD programme among universities in the city might make more sense rather than this disconnected effort. One joint programme offering different specialisations will pool in resources and expertise and create depth, which is lacking in most programmes in history at least. Furthermore, the emphasis should be on inducting students who are actually interested in the subject and are motivated to study at the higher level. The numbers game must end if some quality is to be ensured. Good integrated programmes which focus on student quality, in-depth learning, and original research depend less on money and resources and more on initiative, commitment and collaboration.

Thirdly, universities should reclaim their public spaces, interact with the general public and become bastions of free speech in the country. In a country where there are restrictions on free speech and freedom of conscience is not even guaranteed in the constitution, these hopes are a tall order. But if academia has to re-emerge as a strong force in the country there is no other option. In most universities in Pakistan, free speech is almost non-existent. One cannot arrange talks and events without going through so many channels that in the end no one bothers. Discussions which do take place are so circumscribed that they border on the boring. And a number of universities do not even allow outsiders to attend their events in any case. With such high walls, literally and figuratively, around thought and engagement in the universities, no wonder they do not inspire anyone or inspire creativity. Unless this deep-seated resentment towards free speech and public engagement is overturned, universities in Pakistan will simply be degree mills.

Universities in Pakistan stand at a critical juncture. They have enough funds, they have adequate resources, but they do not have the structures, collaborative efforts and the freedom to make what the dramatic increase in funding should lead to. If this tide is not turned we will never produce thinkers and leaders but only robots who will lead us to destruction.

The writer teaches at the IT University in Lahore. He is the author of ‘A Princely Affair: The Accession and Integration of the Princely States of Pakistan, 1947-55.’ He tweets at @BangashYK.