Editorial
Streamline private universities
The authorities have apparently decided that seven private universities blacklisted by the University Grants Commission recently will be closed down. That is as it should be. In effect, it is a strong message going out to the country that no tampering with the underlying principles of education will be tolerated in the name of privatisation. Let note be made of a caveat, though. It is that there is widespread acknowledgement in Bangladesh that private universities have in a very large number of ways contributed pretty much positively to the spread of higher education in the country. This they have done in light of the fact that the existing public universities have increasingly proved unable to handle the pressure of newer batches of students every academic year. When the concept of private universities was therefore accepted in the early 1990s, the country by and large felt that those young men and women who could not make it to the public universities would in the end be able to fulfil their aspirations through the private universities. At the same time, private universities quite infused the confidence in guardians that their children would be in a position to prosecute studies free of the political difficulties which so regularly affected life at the public universities.
In simple terms, a certain kind of idealism defined private university education in the early stages. Unfortunately, however, the charm of private universities has in the past few years been rendered rather wan owing to the absence of the sort of quality originally looked forward to. Few of these universities have their own campuses; the story by and large is that the faculties of many of the universities are peopled by part time teachers, most of whom again do not have the required authorisation from their parent, in this case public, universities to work at the private universities. The seven universities listed to be shut down have been accused of various sins, notable among them being the provision of false information about their administration and admission of students to degree or honours classes even before the results of their college-leaving examinations have been announced. Now that a judicial inquiry body has prepared a 43-page report about these defaulting universities (there could be quite a few others, one suspects), it is necessary that resolute moves be made to streamline the work of those private universities which have so far escaped the UGC’s hammer blows. For private universities to be restored to the dignity they enjoyed at the time they were established, there is a paramount need to ensure that their various departments work under existing norms. There is huge deception in having, say, a department of English when the reality is that no literature is taught there and only English language courses are on offer. There is then not much of a difference between such a department and a typical language coaching centre anywhere in town.
The nation’s private universities must make themselves more receptive to public needs across the spectrum. That means that a good deal of the elitism about them, one sign of which is the ability of students with ready cash to enrol themselves in such universities, has to be stripped away. Our public universities may have their problems. But there can hardly be any denying that the quality of education they offer the young is yet quite a long way ahead of the courses followed at all those private universities.
A (hair-raising?) conference
Barbers in Lalmonirhat have just made a point. Or is it really more than a point? The answer to that question depends on how you look at what they have been doing. And they have been busy organising a conference for themselves, in the way so many other people in so many other professions have been arranging seminars and symposia for themselves. You will of course be curious about what might have been the agenda at the barbers’ conference. Before you leap to any definitive answers, you would do well to ask what possible subjects for discussion could there be at a seminar given over to discussing the impact of earthquakes or the many ways of teaching language. If you recall, there have been a very large number of seminars going on for years in the nation’s capital, so much so that we often forget that Dhaka was once known as a city of mosques. Today, it will be quite proper to think of it as a city of seminars, many of which do not seem to have much of a point.
As for the Lalmonirhat conference of barbers, you can let your imagination run wild, or run all over the place. There were more than a thousand of them, all making their concerns known to the chief guest who in this instance was none other than the deputy minister for disaster management and relief. Of course there was no disaster the barbers were worried about, but they certainly must have been relieved that such a powerful one as a deputy minister was in their midst. The deputy minister, like all good politicians, duly informed us that barbers were part of society. Did we need any reminding? He then told us that we need not look down on them. Figuratively, we do not. Literally, it is our good barbers who look down on us as they strategise all that clipping and cutting of the hair on our heads (you can ignore the bald ones here, for obvious reasons). Humour apart, let there be no question that we love our barbers in the way we love a neat, decent haircut. Besides, we do not forget that for many in any locality, a barber shop is a place for socialising, indeed for a chance to come by dashes of beauty. Ever noticed the young men endlessly brushing their hair at a barber’s and endlessly indulging in self-admiration before that magic of a huge mirror?
Sit back and think. What if, out of some huge grievance, the slogan, ‘Barbers of the world (or country) unite!’ were to be heard on the seamy streets? Only the barbarians amongst us would miss the point in that slogan.
WORTH A LOOK
Bashing the politicians
Indeed, Bangladesh has had more than one experience of bashing at the politicians is used as a means to establish unconstitutional form of governance called martial law. ‘Political will’, as past experiences indicates
was nipped in the bud by large-scale arrests of key political leaders and front ranking workers. Repressive laws were made without constitutional authority to silence the voices of dissent, by curtailing the freedom
of the press and of the higher judiciary, writes AMM Shawkat Ali
The daily New Age, in one of its editorials, has recommended organizing a seminar to get the precise meaning of the term ‘political will’. The recommendation is based on the perception that in almost all seminars relating to politics and governance, the term ‘political will’ is freely and widely used. In the result, it has become a cliché or overused term.
The propensity to use the term ‘political will’ too frequently can be interpreted in more ways than one. First, it is a convenient way to use a nebulous term to catch up with the time limit set for the discussants. Second, it is equally convenient for them to bash the politicians responsible for governance. Third, the discussant may have only a vague idea about how to strengthen governance. There can be other interpretations of this scenario. Very often the term is used in conjunction with other terms called ‘political vision’ and ‘political maturity’. The combined use of all such terms reflects a tendency to bash the politicians and make them responsible for all the ills in the country.
Strangely enough, even the politicians use the same term when pitted against one another. This is a familiar scenario in the electronic media when elected MPs of different political parties sit face to face to exchange views on issues relating to political governance. The same scenario is also clearly visible when journalists raise questions about political governance. One then lands in the state of “we and they” syndrome. An element of malgovernance is sought to be justified by a ruling party by this syndrome. The politicians in power often say “they also did it. We did not do it first”. The usual answer from the politicians in opposition is “In our time, this did not happen. Situation was much better”.
The indemnity law for ‘operation clean heart’ is a case in point. It was defended by a senior minister of the four-party alliance government on the ground that they (meaning the Awami League) also provided indemnity to Jatiyo Rakkhi Bahani (JRB) in 1973. The leader of the opposition sharply reacted to this and the matter ended there without the citizens being wiser than those who were involved in the blame game. In the process, the substantive moral principle that one crime does not and cannot justify another crime, is lost sight of.
The blame game scenario, which continues unabated, best reflects the political culture. This is pejoratively called the state of confrontational politics, which appears to have a cancerous growth in the body politic of Bangladesh. How does this scenario fit in with the concept ‘political will’? Political scientists are likely to interpret this with reference to political culture and then bring in the issue of ‘political will’ to explain the state of politics and society. Scholars of politics may also wrap it up with few other terms such as ‘lack of political vision’ and ‘lack of political maturity’.
This implies that the term ‘political will’ cannot be seen in isolation of other elements already mentioned. This line of reasoning does not carry us far enough to understand the term ‘political will’. Perhaps the cliché can best be understood simply by saying that politicians (in power) do not have the will to achieve good governance. A more cynical statement in this regard will be that the politicians neither have the willingness nor the ability to govern the country.
Clearly, this cynical view is dangerous. It may not be so dangerous as long as this is just a view and this view is not resorted to for take over of power and authority to govern. Indeed, Bangladesh has had more than one experience of bashing at the politicians is used as a means to establish unconstitutional form of governance called martial law. ‘Political will’, as past experiences indicates was nipped in the bud by large-scale arrests of key political leaders and front ranking workers. Repressive laws were made without constitutional authority to silence the voices of dissent, by curtailing the freedom of the press and of the higher judiciary.
The leaders of this type of governance soon realize that without some form of political governance involving the established politicians, they cannot stay on to power very long. They have to establish legitimacy. The result is a carrot and stick policy to set in the process of divide and rule. In this state of affairs, collective political will of the established parties give in to make some politicians and factions to act like chameleons which change colour. Examples of this are plentiful in Bangladesh.
The above interpretation may throw some light on the much-discussed term ‘political will’. The emergence of unconstitutional forms of governance as above described substantially erodes the collective ‘political will’ of all parties interested in constitutional governance. One then has to make a distinction of different levels of ‘political will’. The most important level is that of the ruling party. Second, the opposition party or parties which are in majority next to the ruling party or parties. When the collective ‘political will’ is destroyed beyond repair, it is least to be expected that this will work like a magic bullet for good governance.
The opposition party or parties can do a lot of good if they show strong commitment to uphold national and public interest. Here again one moves from ‘political will’ to political commitment. But this is contingent on the extent of the spirit of accommodation to rise above narrow partisan interests for both the ruling and the opposition parties. However, as Bangladesh experiences since 1991 indicate, there is no attempt by either to establish a bipartisan process for formulating public policy and its execution.
How collective ‘political will’ may be achieved
There cannot be any easy roadmap to establish and sustain collective ‘political will’ at the two levels mentioned. However, the pressure needs to be mounted from within the rank and file of the parties. This pressure can be generated in the context of in-party democratisation process, which is totally or nearly absent. Additionally, it will also need moving away from charismatic leadership that show signs of dynastic rule within the party and then in government. In this process, the collective ‘political will’ within the party hierarchy is supplanted by the topmost leaders’ wishes, whims or caprices, call it what you will. Can ‘political will’ be nurtured in the process?
While all the above are important impediments to the development of ‘political will’, the largest single obstacle, flowing from a combination of these elements, is the ingrained political or personal belief that politics is not for sharing of power but for staying on to power or grabbling it. The demand for resignation of government is not responded to by mid-term polls which is an established mechanism in any democracy. Divergence of opinion on political issues is not thrashed out by meaningful debate in and outside the parliament. These are sought to be kept alive by ‘we and they’ syndrome, by political culture of blame game and confrontational nature of politics. The constitutional tenets clearly stipulate that power resides not in individuals or party in power but in the established institutions of the state. The complete absence of the perception has resulted in a lack of equilibrium in the three basic organs of the state. It has inexorably led to a chronic systemic disability and weakening of the sinews of all organs of the state, much like the disease of muscular dystrophy in
human being.
It can be argued that there was some reflection of collective ‘political will’ in 1990 when all political parties working in separate alliances pulled down Ershad government. That this was a means to an end was also exhibited by a return to parliamentary rule. This spirit disappeared in thin air soon after the election of 1991. Some semblance of collective ‘political will’ is also now visible. It is too early to say whether this is a marriage of convenience or a meaningful effort to establish constitutional governance.
It is likely to degenerate into a marriage of convenience if an enabling environment is not put in place for developing collective ‘political will’ based on democratic values in words and deeds. It seems that the phrase ‘political will’ defies any precise definition. The important point is to see it in practice.
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