The Jamiat ul-Ulema-e Hind passed a significant resolution calling upon Muslims to establish 'non-residential institutions for providing religious and modern education to girls, for which an appropriate syllabus should be prepared. Though its recent convention got good media coverage, this bit of the final resolutions received little attention in the media. The original Urdu version of it says that 'girls education must be fully in accordance with the limits set by the shariah and the rules of pardah. Co-education must be fully avoided, or else it is feared that more harm than good would result.' The English version of the resolution reads somewhat differently. It appeals to Muslims to 'establish non-residential modern educational institutions for girls' education' that would be based on a 'special syllabus for them, which should be completed within six years.' 'On completion of 10 years of age,' it adds, 'complete shariah norms should be observed while continuing their education.'
The Jamiat's appeal for modern education for Muslim girls is indeed laudable. However, on critical examination, it might not actually amount to much, and there may be more to it than what actually meets the eye. The actual import of the Jamiat's endorsement hinges crucially on 1- the contents of the 'special' syllabus that it recommends for girls, which, should complete within six years, by which time they would reach the age of ten (regarded by many as the age of puberty or balaghat), and 2- the practical implications, in terms of rules, regulations and restrictions, of the Jamiat's own understanding of 'complete shariah norms' (or, as the Urdu version of the translation puts it, the 'limits set by the shariah and the rules of pardah') that it insists Muslim girls must observe if they wish to continue their education after the age of ten.
It is significant to note in this regard that the resolution—probably deliberately—remains silent on what exactly the Jamiat understands as 'complete shariah norms'. These terms are, in fact, vague and deeply contested among Muslims themselves. Some Muslims regard the shariah as sanctioning a whole range of rights for women, and, indeed, as being fundamentally opposed to women's subordination and patriarchy. In contrast, for other Muslims the shariah is, indeed sternly patriarchal. Being a body of leading Deobandi ulema, it is but to be expected that the Jamiat's understanding corresponds to the general Deobandi interpretation of these concepts. In practical terms, this might well mean restricting women to domestic roles (allowing them to step out of their homes only in cases of extreme necessity, provided they cover up entirely); considering not just women's bodies but even their voices to be 'awrah' or to be concealed from 'strange' (ghayr) men; prohibiting any interaction between women and 'strange' men; and so on. It is crucial to recognize, that strikingly different interpretations of shariah contest this understanding. Needless to say, this would greatly constrain and limit what, and how, Muslim girls can actually learn. Precisely what the Jamiat would want Muslim girls to learn would be reflected in the 'special' syllabus for them that it calls for. Yet, the resolution does not go into the details of what this 'special' syllabus should be.
A good illustration of the Deobandi position on girls' education is provided in a recently published book by a Deobandi scholar, Maulvi Abdul Basit Hamidi Qasmi titled Nayab Taqreeren: Asr-e Hazir Ke Taqazon Se Hamahang Sulagte Masail Par Mubni Chand Inami Taqriron Ka Majmua , ('Rare Speeches: A Collection of Some Prized Lectures on Burning Contemporary Issues').
In a speech titled Talim ul-Niswan Ka Nizam ('The System of Girls' Education'), the author argues that ilm (knowledge) refers only to 'religious knowledge' (ilm-i din), and 'a means to perfect religious beliefs'. He critiques other Muslims who include 'worldly' subjects under the rubric of Islamically-appropriate knowledge, arguing that subjects like 'English, History and Geography are not ilm, but, rather, skills (hunar)'.
Qasmi opposes the teaching of 'non-religious' education for Muslim girls and deems those who advocate this sort of education for girls as 'blindly imitating Europeans'. He sees 'non-religious' knowledge as good only for enabling people to work outside the home, and considers it un-necessary. Earning a livelihood, he insists, is the duty of men, not women, and it is binding on women to observe pardah or seclusion. 'Worldly knowledge cannot be had while observing pardah', he claims, thus ruling out such education for Muslim girls. However, he adds, under conditions of 'severe necessity' there is no absolute prohibition on a woman learning modern subjects, but this must be done in pardah and only after completing her religious studies. For this purpose, he lays down, she must study only from another woman, or, if this is not possible, then from a male mahram, a male relative whom she is forbidden by Islamic law from marrying. In case a woman has no male relative to support her financially, he grudgingly says, it is permissible for her to learn some 'worldly crafts' so that she can earn her livelihood, but still, he warns 'she should be an expert in religious, not worldly, knowledge'.
Qasmi insists that 'worldly knowledge can be destructive for women', adding that 'all the problems of women can only be solved through 'Islamic education', by which, presumably, he means such education as is narrowly interpreted by most Deobandi ulema. He appears to equate modern education with Westernisation, and condemns the latter outright. This claim is bolstered by quotation from some obscure Western writers described as 'Samuel Samails' and 'American scholar Losan' but fails to back them by any references. 'Samuel Samails'is quoted as having said, 'a respectable woman is one who stays at home and spins thread'.
Seeing traditional Deobandi-style education as normative, he cannot conceive the possibility of a harmonious combination of Islamic and 'modern' 'worldly' knowledge. 'Modern' education, as Qasmi sees it, is bound to lead Muslim women away from the path of Islam and lead them to engage in fighting, abusing, lying, backbiting, adultery, watching cinema and TV, and cooking'. These women are held 'followers of Satan'.
To remedy this situation, Qasmi says, Muslim girls must be educated only in religious madrasas. This is also crucial, he contends, because if women lack religious education their children and the future generations of Muslims might be tempted to stray in the direction of disbelief and immorality. Qasmi quotes Deobandi scholar Ashraf Ali Thanvi to reinforce his theory of female education.
Mercifully, ulema of Qasmi's ilk do not speak for all Muslims or even for all ulema, although his views find a powerful echo among many Deobandis. Ignoring them all, many Muslim families in India today are increasingly seeking to educate their daughters, providing them with both religious as well as secular education. It remains to be seen if, in the face of this, the conservative Deobandi ulema, including those associated with the Jamiat, are willing to relent or, as seems equally likely, will continue in their obdurate opposition to anything but a very traditional education for Muslim girls, thereby further reinforcing Muslim marginalisation.
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January 2010 |