Why does it matter?

It has been two months since the Paris attacks and yet I feel the need to publish this post. I spent weeks after the attack taking in all the news I could, weighing in all the responses I could, and trying to form my own view of it. Why does it matter so much to me?

The first, very simple reason is that the religion we speak of runs in my blood. Well, it runs in my family. Oh, fine, my larger, nationwide family, if you must insist. Anybody who has grown up in India listening to our music, reading our literature, looking at our poetry, architecture and paintings will understand me when I say that Islam is a part of us, and it certainly is a part of me; my mind and soul. Urdu remains the most romantic tongue to my ear and quotes from Akbar Birbal stories (known to me only in my own Marathi mother tongue) appear promptly in my mind to illustrate some random point in everyday conversation. Do not even get me started on classical music or painting or films! Some of our best, most loved, artistes belong to said faith. I defy anybody who tries to convince me that Islam is separate from me. And it is heartbreaking to know how many would immediately attempt to do exactly that.

Secondly, I have fallen hopelessly in love with Britain (and the larger idea of European unity). Having studied there and tasted true freedom there; having seen in practice, theories and projects I had only read or thought about, from experiments in environment to inclusive culture and arts, enhanced communication and liberties, this set of countries, especially Britain, has made an impression on me. It was there that I met some of the most, courteous, humble, passionate and kind human beings I’ve known. The personality, the core character of the country seemed to fit me like nothing else had ever done. And I am filled with apprehension and sadness at the thought that people espousing these ideals might be under threat.

I have often dreamt of our own neighbouring countries (including the separated sibling Pakistan) having relations akin to the European union; of being able to travel to and from these countries freely and learning about them and sharing their culture. I admit I am too utopian for my own good. We have a very long way to go, but it is such a pity that those who have made great progress in neighbourhood ties are themselves being pulled back in time.

And then thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, there’s that innate part of being an artist. Of having a view and expressing it. In a way and form that I hone and nurture and perfect. That I work on, and think about, and relook at. None of that is by any means trivial, and I pity those the most who have not learned how to appreciate (and that includes to critique) a piece of artistic expression.

So it is really no surprise that the incident is a direct assault on much that I hold dear, a lot of which constitutes my identity. One may even credibly say that I have been very, very, deeply offended.

But as a mature adult, I must make my peace with it and allow my mind to proceed to the understanding of the problem. And in parting, I have to say in the loudest voice I have, that I stand in solidarity with Europe, and hope that nothing (including themselves) destroys their inclusive culture of tolerance and unity.

Recruiting the liberals - part one

Over two months ago, a few gunmen, invoking the religion Islam, killed cartoonists over a drawing. While violence of any kind always upsets me very much, the nature of the Paris attacks struck a particularly painful note, making me wonder why it mattered so much more to me. It triggered a personal study, and in the light of these findings I feel responsible to respond. 

Stories within Islam:

The first myth to debunk is that there is one Islam. 

Of course there are many voices in Islam. A religion is what its people make it. Throughout history, people of different faiths have found ways to practice what they felt was the path to god. Some were pathbreaking, and others ordinary, some rebelled and created alternatives and some obediently ploughed on the beaten track. And strangely, the rebels and original thinkers are the ones we celebrate and remember. Even today, many Muslims hold very strong, tolerant and liberal views.

A current, European example is the very same French Muslim policeman, Ahmed Merabet, who died doing his duty to protect the Charlie Hebdo office from the terrorists. While he lay injured, the gunmen stopped to shoot him. Of Algerian origin, he identified strongly with French secular principles of liberty, equality and fraternity and died defending his fellow countrymen’s freedom of expression - a truer Muslim to me than any violent one. Please listen to his brother’s moving speech here.

We have known Rumi, Akbar, Ghalib, and other brilliant Muslims who were ahead of their time (and often criticised by the orthodoxy). The Indian subcontinent especially has a tremendously rich and liberal heritage. Where then, have the liberal Islamic traditions disappeared? Unfortunately, this twelve century old heritage has now been denied by a mere six decade old intolerant, orthodox 'Islamist' ideology. 

Changing traditions and the rise of 'Islamism':  

To understand how a rich, twelve century old Islamic tradition has turned overwhelmingly gruesome and extreme today, one must look at the political scene in recent times. This has mainly been the 'political' spread of Wahhabism or Salafi Islam. 

The short explanation is here, though I recommend a longer one here (minus the lean towards conspiracy theory) and ask the reader to embark upon a personal study to understand the subtleties. 

Much more engaging is the reading of “The Sheepification of Bakistan” in which Mina Malik-Hussain (a feminist Muslim from Lahore) describes how ‘insiduously, The Arabs crept up on us’, how ‘Ramzan became Ramadan’, and how “Now it was cool to sound Arab, and soon enough it began to be increasingly desirable to look it.” It is a must read, very endearing!

I could hug the writer when her impassioned words ring out “…really enough is enough. This is Pakistan, formerly of the Indian Subcontinent. This is still the place where people knew Farsi and had read the Baburnama in the original. This the land of kings and warriors, a civilization as old as the Indus. Where does Saudi Arabia, that land of the crazed Bedouins so uncivilized and jangli that they needed the best of our Prophets to come save them, get off on telling us how to be Muslims?” 
That, right there, is my Pakistani sister reclaiming our shared roots (I can't explain why, but at those words, my soul feels the joy of discovering a long lost companion)!

Following this beautiful article is another one by Shireen Azam describing how, within the Indian scene, “Khuda-Hafizbecame Allah-Hafiz”

A political explanation is here in this little clip (the crux is between minutes 2:50 to 3:45)

It is certainly the political scene that inspired this change, and with it came a dangerous consequence. Religion was brought slowly and inconspicuously, from the personal space to the political space. And to describe this new political ideology, we use the word “Islamism”.

(Part two will be posted shortly)

It's about Love

In December 2013, the Supreme Court of India recriminalised homosexuality and turned the clock back three years. It overturned the Delhi High Court ruling of 2009 in support of LGBT rights (which was a truly sane, just and far-reaching step if you ask me) - a ruling that had given hope to many in the LGBT community to come out of the closet and feel safe.  My respect for the highest court of the land has evaporated quickly at this blatant denial of basic human rights.
I have begun to be more and more certain that the larger social problems in our country (and perhaps the world) always boil down to certain individual personality defects to be found in these decision making groups. The only explanation to the above mentioned Supreme Court absurdity is homophobia – a fear of same-sex partnerships.

I chanced upon a very nicely made BBC documentary recently called ‘Out There’, that explores the lives of LGBT people all over the world, studying their lives, how they are viewed, accepted and in many cases, prosecuted. I highly recommend watching it. It sheds a lot of light on the main fears of homophobes the world over. No bias is harmless. Anti-Semitism, though baseless, gave rise to the Holocaust. Underestimating homophobia can lead to mass prosecution of innocent people, and in today’s day and age, it would be an enormous, unforgivable shame if we were to allow that to happen.

While homophobia has many forms, these few points below usually form the basis of all arguments against homosexuality.

Homosexuality is unnatural / created by modern culture:

Both untrue. Many species in nature exhibit homosexual behaviour. It is not recent either… there are records from ancient India which look at this behaviour in a more holistic way (read more here). Ideas of unnaturalness and immorality have come to India from colonial Britain (and the law that the SC upholds is of their making). Either way, it is not a good enough reason to make it criminal. Plastic is both unnatural and modern – can we then pass a law making all plastic users criminals?

Homosexuality may involve addiction, violence and power:

Correction – All relationships may involve addiction, violence and power. And of course that is wrong. We want healthy, happy people everywhere and if something stops that from happening, we must take the required measures. If there is substance abuse, we need therapy and rehabilitation. If there is violence and crime, we need medical care, prosecution and rehabilitation. In fact, let me add, if there are medical reasons against homosexual practices, by all means let there be awareness and healthcare options, just like with heterosexual practices.

Our country is riddled with injustice and bias in every sphere. We are all guilty of wronging each other, based on caste, region, background, sex, disability. It is always wrong, no matter who does it. Singling a community out doesn’t help.

Homosexuality may spread and threaten ‘normal’ relationships:

There is an idea that the LGBT community ‘recruits’ people to be like them, that if such behaviour expands it is a threat to reproduction and that human population will fall. Even as I type this, the ludicrousness of the idea makes me chuckle. I don’t quite see eye to eye with the fears of declining population (atleast speaking for my 1.2 billion strong India). As for the ‘recruiting’, if the mass of heterosexual movies, drama, literature, poetry constantly bombarded on gay individuals does not change their inner feelings, how can a small group influence the majority? In fact, this idea comes more from people who reduce this love to sex. They disregard all the gentleness, trust, companionship and respect that is part of all relationships and focus on the physical act.

Most gay people stress again and again that what ‘normal’ people do not get is that it’s about love. I agree that it is something one may not understand. I admit I do not fully understand it yet myself, but the only sane solution to that is to observe it more deeply. Suppressing and punishing, I’m afraid, will just make it worse. And love is mysterious enough, even in its most ‘normal’ form! 

But there are ways for us to feel and understand what such relationships can be (and often are) about. Literature, music, films and art open windows of empathy into worlds and feelings unknown to us. And it is always true that the weakest of us are represented least.

There are very few sensitive films about the subject I have come across - Wilde and Birdcage come to mind. Birdcage is one of the gentlest, most hilarious but endearing movies I have seen on the subject, tickling you innocently as it delves subtly into the deeper personalities of the characters, while Wilde is the more intense, darker and sadder one, with the protagonist (the 19^th century author and poet Oscar Wilde) struggling with ideas of Victorian morality and his own innate sense of what is good and noble.

Author Vikram Seth penned down the poem below after the SC’s disappointing stand (and it is free for anybody to share or use).

Through love's great power to be made whole
In mind and body, heart and soul -
Through freedom to find joy, or be
By dint of joy itself set free
In love and in companionhood:
This is the true and natural good.
To undo justice, and to seek
To quash the rights that guard the weak - 
To sneer at love, and wrench apart
The bonds of body, mind and heart
With specious reason and no rhyme:
This is the true unnatural crime.

And yet, this is difficult for many to understand. As Stephen Fry says in ‘Out There’, “It’s extra-ordinary to think that after two hundred thousand years on the planet, humankind is still struggling with how some of us love”

Summerhill Part Two – School Meeting and Views from the Principal

(Continued from earlier post)

We have lunch and then explore the gardens. As my friends happily swing on the swings (one also went up the tree-house – don’t we all have children inside us?), I notice that behind the swings are little paths that go into little caves of shrubbery. On the other side is a small meadow where a young girl is sitting peacefully,  reading alone. She is lost in her book and does not notice me, and since I like it that way, I quietly retrace my steps and rejoin my friends. 

But I love the fact that even in the midst of the calm, close-knit community, there are still places to be on your own, seemingly solitary, for those days when you wish to be so...

Right - The tree-house

Below - The hidden paths behind the swings

As we enter the meeting room and find places to sit, we are politely asked to “Please wait outside, as the children will vote on whether they’d like you to be part of the meeting”. Surprised and impressed, we trail out again, and wait for the verdict. Happily, they allow us in, but it is impressive to know that they have an option of keeping us out. Once inside, they also vote on whether we are allowed to take photos and videos (photos are okay with most but videos turned down, with the result that we aren’t to take photos of the dissenting students or any videos whatsoever).

The meeting is perhaps the most impressive thing in the whole visit. The children sit quietly, some comfortably on the floor, some on the benches on the sides of the room, some on the stairs and one even on the banister! 

The Chair (the previously mentioned teenage girl), we were told later, was voted for in the previous meeting and has absolute power. She could mete out punishments or fines for misbehaviour, or throw someone out if they disrupt the proceedings (during the session we witness, none are required, just a firm instruction to a new boy, who is hiding up the stairs sitting at the very top, to come down and join in nicely. After two failed attempts of ‘Come sit down here, please’, she raises her voice and says ‘I’m going to fine you if you don’t come down at once’ and is promptly obeyed). There are two meetings each week, and on Friday the next week’s Chair is decided. Few students do it, and they are normally the older ones, because you need experience, authority and fairness, as you have to keep about 70 children and 10 or more adults calm and interested for about an hour in addition to taking care of business.

There is a general meeting and a tribunal meeting – general where they discuss laws, or events, or new proposals for something. Tribunal is where you’d bring someone up for misconduct. The Chair has a previously prepared list of what is to be discussed, which includes proposals, notices or announcements amongst others. When someone needs to say something in a meeting, they speak to the Chair and Secretary (the record keeper and organizer of the meeting who assists the Chair) and are listed down before the meeting – they are given their chance to speak when their name is called out during the meeting.

As we settle down, the Chair reads the agenda for the day and the meeting begins. A few people make announcements about the week’s schedule, outings and events. The next thing on the agenda is a proposal by a child. He seems to have been “gated” previously (a sort of punishment, I assume, similar to being grounded, where one is unable to participate in events or go out) and is seeking to get that cancelled for the weekend when he wants to meet his parents. People raise their hands to respond and the Chair lets them speak one at a time (if you’re not picked, you don’t get a chance, but nobody seems to mind). Some suggest that he could be let off for the weekend and add an extra day to his punishment, some say add extra two days, some say gated is gated. As these are heard, the Secretary quickly compiles the options and the Chair promptly reads them out, then takes a vote which is something like this…

“All in favour of proposal?” (Some hands go up)

“All in favour of proposal but adding another day?” (Clear winner)

“All in favour of proposal but adding extra two days?” (Some other hands…)

“All against all?” (Barely one or two)

“Carried by adding an extra day!”

No time lost. It is amazing to see how quick and crisp and aptly worded the meeting is. It reflects not only a clarity in the discussion, but a clarity of thought among the students, a sense of fairness, a sense that the ideas are more important than the people who are saying them (no idea comes twice, there is no redundancy, hands are raised only by those who have something to add), and appreciation is conveyed by the generous “Hear hear!”s called out when fair things are said.

The second memorable case is a boy bringing up another boy for breaking his chair. What pleases me is that the second child does not deny the charge even for a moment. The question of a suitable solution (or what we'd unkindly call a punishment) is brought to the community. One suggests a fine, but others don’t find that useful. Another suggests that the boy could go to the woodworking studio and make another chair. One teacher then asks if the original chair can be mended, and if so, could the boy take responsibility for getting the chair fixed. This solution seems to appeal to everyone. But to add, a child suggests that the boy could mend the chair and get a new chair too. There’s an immediate sharp response of, “Why would anyone need two chairs?” and it is followed by a well-distributed chorus of “Hear hear!”

It isn’t hard to see that there is a strong sense of what is ‘fair’. If you ask me, such things are only taught by example and practice. No theory or laws can decide for you what is justice or what is goodness… even what is happiness. You can never define these, you just know them when you see them…

Top and below - Woodwork in the gardens

At the end of it, we walk out smiling. Not just because of how civilized and mature the discussions are (it is something to be respected, especially if you’ve ever seen the way adults discuss in meetings, or court, or worse, in parliament!), but because they are about little things. Insignificant they may seem, perhaps, but they shape the child, teach him/her how to respond to a disagreement or wrong done to them or others. It is the little problems that grow into big problems, and you cannot solve a larger problem if you haven’t learnt how to deal with smaller ones first. 

We then have a conversation with the principal Zoë Neill Readhead. She tells us that everything in this community is open and if someone does something seemingly wrong, it is encouraged to just confess and get over it. The principal also laughs about gossip. “We love our gossip,” she says, “We always know what’s going on where”. But it is never harmful; the students know it and are comfortable with it because nobody is judged. When asked if the freedom is sometimes ‘too much’, she says “We believe in freedom, not license.” When one realizes that others’ freedom is just as valuable as one’s own, it makes them caring and responsible. Surprising to many who are new to this idea is how well it works. There is barely any destructive behaviour – for example smoking isn’t banned but anybody who may want to smoke would have to compulsorily attend a ‘Smoker’s Talk’ regularly – a sort of lecture which gives them information about possible health problems, etc. A similar policy is in place for drinking and sex. Knowing the risks and consequences itself makes children more responsible and accountable for their actions.

                                                

Inspite of the openness (or perhaps because of it), it is a controlled atmosphere; students are chosen on the basis of how well they will fit into the community. There is a varied mix of backgrounds and nationalities that the children come from, and it is a very inclusive community, but some personality filters are in place.

Clockcards - Each child has a wooden block that can be hung to indicate where they are in the school

The more technical things (OFSTED reports, legal issues, insurances, finances, and other things, which I won’t go into here) are discussed and so are the limitations. This kind of school is resource-intensive, not easy to replicate without enough money or space or people. As the government is reluctant to fund and support the endeavour (without exerting control), Summerhill has to financially take care of itself (Zoë sadly admits that it is better to shut down Summerhill rather than let the government impose restrictions on it). That has the unfortunate effect of making it elitist – beyond reach of the lower sections of society. But as Zoë says, “Are we then saying it is better not to have Summerhill at all?"

View of the schoolrooms and garden

The question is one of preserving and experimenting with an ideal in an increasingly non-ideal world. What the significance of such a place is, is discussed in this very insightful article about Summerhill a friend of mine has written.
If you ask me, a large number of the world's problems will be solved in a few generations' time if governments all over the world direct maximum resources to liberal, free education, health and nature conservation. But that is a much complex, wider discussion altogether.

What must be said for now, is that we need more such spaces and chances for children to really grow into resourceful, responsible, loving adults – something we are definitely short of.

 

Summerhill Part One– School Tour and Informal Discussion

Last week two friends and I had an opportunity to visit a lovely school in Suffolk called Summerhill School. Founded in 1921 by a visionary named A.S. Neil, the school is one of the first of its kind. Formerly described as a ‘free school’ and increasingly called a (more reserved and respectable) ‘democratic school’, it is one of the few institutions in the world that practices an educational model where students are strong decision makers in the running of their school and, in effect, their lives.

As we approach the office, we see a view of the very pretty school building, and the path that curves and leads up to it. There is a sign that makes me smile. It says, ‘Beware! Children Playing!’. 

Above - The happy signpost
Left - The main school building

 

There are other smaller signs in the office, asking visitors not to take anybody’s photographs without their permission, to not go into children’s living spaces or touch their belongings, etc. The visitors (we are among the many who have come on this Open Day) are comprised of interested parents, curious educators and enthusiastic teachers - some wanting to enlist their children, some to join the school, and some to start similar models elsewhere. As the visitors slowly start interacting, a few teenagers walk up to us and ask us to divide into groups for a tour of the school.

We’re assigned to two charming young lads who lead us in. As we walk around we notice children on bicycles, skateboards, swings and some of the youngest ones on a trampoline! There are unicycles lying around in a couple of places too. Many children are wandering about (it happens to be an absolutely lovely, sunny day) and give us friendly smiles.

It is a very informal tour. The boys chat with us, tell us where they live, what they like. We’re taken to the woodcarving studio where students can make anything from little shields and swords to chairs (even the skateboard ramp outside has been made by a student with the woodcarving incharge’s help!), to the science rooms, past the lunch area to the meeting room (which was then empty and housed a table tennis table), art rooms and a small common room for the children to relax and read or just hang out. 

Above - Indoor hang-out room for 9 to 12 year olds stocked with games and reading material
Below - Science rooms for all classes

As we walk outside, a passing teacher calls out to us, laughing, “Don’t listen to them! They’re just children!” at which our two teenagers grin mischievously! They show us the swimming pool (which needs cleaning, and the students would help with that), the Big Beech – their largest tree, which has a huge ladder built onto it and rope to swing on (“But we don’t go there much, there are many rules about it”), and the many swings and benches all around.

Above - Skateboarding ramp made as a woodwork project
Below - The Big Beech and our two young guides

After the little tour of the school, we speak to one of the teachers who has been at Summerhill for about 12 years. We also get to see the Law Book, which has about 200 laws that the children follow. (“There are some silly laws, too,” says our teenage tour guide, with a chuckle “So sometimes we get rid of them if everybody agrees we don’t need  them”) There are rules like ‘You are allowed a lie-in on your birthday’ or ‘16 year olds are allowed out till 8pm’. Most laws can be changed or modified by the students in the meetings, by majority vote.  The teacher explains how things work, what students learn, how other schools find it difficult to follow these concepts. This is also more of a discussion, with the visitors asking all sorts of things, including how often children are allowed to go out, whether they have compulsory lessons, how many choose to attend the meetings, how do they handle violence (“We haven’t even had a fist fight” says the 13 year old student who is joining the discussion), what if a child doesn’t want to do anything at all, and many more.

Above and below right - Art room and
indoor area for games and books

The teacher answers it all in a wonderful spirit, laughing and joking as he enters the finer points of the discussion. “Our textbooks are designed to keep 30 or more children busy,” he says, when asked about how children manage to study if they spend so much time at play, “So they have a lot of repetition within them, there are examples and many problems to solve. But once you get rid of all the extra bits, it’s really quite simple and do-able”. And play is always a type of study, he insists. The conversation veers to flaws in the existing educational models the world over. The Finnish system is mentioned, as are other schools that are trying similar things. However the world is yet to catch up. Summerhill was radical in 1921 and it is radical even now. “I call it a problem of educational religion,” says the teacher, talking about why this may be, “where you believe (and are scared by being told) that success is economic heaven and failure, economic hell.”

As the teacher speaks to us, the teenage girl (who will later chair the school meeting) sits next to him completely at home as if it is a family discussion she is sitting in on. The few times she does speak, her manner betrays a sense of confidence and wisdom, but most of all, a deep love for her school. We break for lunch after this, and are to reconvene in the meeting room to witness the school meeting (or so we think!)

(More to come - a second post about the school meeting and a talk with the principal will follow shortly.)