My own experience in education ranges from primary and secondary school to college and university. In the early 1960s, education was not thought-provoking, but rather about the books and classes in the prescribed syllabus. This was extremely ineffective and lifeless.

Teachers would deliver rote-learned lessons and leave the students uninspired. Once a syllabus was set in colleges and universities, it was taught without any changes or additions. The books issued as part of the syllabus were also never changed, despite the fact that there could be several new books published on the subject. In college, we were taught political history, ignoring all socio-cultural nuances, thereby limiting our knowledge of history.

When I gained admission to University of Sindh, there were two history departments — Muslim History and General History. The common belief among students was that it was easier to get a degree in Muslim history. Therefore, the department had the most enrollment.

On the other hand, the syllabus for General History was considered difficult and students had to work harder to pass the exams. Rather than seeking knowledge, the students were more interested in receiving a degree. The syllabus for a Master’s degree (MA) in history was developed at the time the university was established, and there was subsequently no change in this curriculum.

There were two professors in our department. One was the head of the department, who was well-educated and had a strong grasp on the subject matter, which was reflected in his erudite lectures. In stark contrast, the second one had no interest in teaching and barely lectured for 15 minutes.

While studying for our MA, we were not taught anything about research methodologies to study history. There was no critical analysis of the books being published on Mughal history. Whatever we were taught about the Mughal empire was from books published before the partition of the Indian subcontinent in 1947.

Dr Mubarak Ali is a celebrated historian of the Subcontinent. He received his PhD in history from Ruhr University in Bochum, Germany, and has written hundreds of books, columns and scholarly articles on people’s history and the development of a humanistic society. In his memoir Shama Har Rang Mein Jalti Hai [The Flame Burns in All Colours] — published by Tarikh Publications in 2019 — he has doubled down on the importance of analysing history with rigour and providing a holistic educational environment for all in Pakistan. Eos presents translated excerpts from his Urdu memoirs…

The Persian language, which is so important to appreciate this historical period, was given no heed, nor was any attention paid to derivative texts. Learning was primarily limited to class and there was no tradition of establishing seminars wherein students’ minds could be nurtured through the reading and writing of research papers.

When students prepared for exams or wrote essays, they merely excerpted from various books rather than express their own thoughts on the subject. I remember that, when these essays were submitted, the professors would return them after a few days, without making any attempt to read the matter or providing useful critique.

The easiest way to pass examinations was to review test papers from the past five years, to get a fairly accurate idea of what questions could be anticipated. Consequently, students memorised the answers and seldom had any opportunity to express their own opinions.

When I think back now, I realise that, while I passed all the examinations, I, along with my fellow students, remained completely unaware of in-depth analysis of history. Therefore, we did not apply a novel lens despite the fact that historians from the Indian Subcontinent were engaging in historical debate as much as their European counterparts.

When I was appointed as a university lecturer, I was forced to teach using the same traditional approach, with the obsolete books prescribed in the syllabus. Now I can appreciate that, in those initial days, my lectures did not create any passion for learning in my students — they simply came to class and listened to my lectures as a ritual.

When I was appointed as a university lecturer, I was forced to teach using the same traditional approach, with the obsolete books prescribed in the syllabus. Now I can appreciate that, in those initial days, my lectures did not create any passion for learning in my students — they simply came to class and listened to my lectures as a ritual. These were the conditions when I decided to go abroad to pursue a PhD in the field of history.

When I arrived in Germany for further studies, I acutely felt how little I knew about the framework of studying history and how limited my experience in research was. I had no knowledge of how to gather data from records or how to correctly reference or index. The most important training I received was in gathering, interpreting and evaluating evidence.

Students were assigned excerpts to be discussed in seminars. One by one, students were expected to translate these passages from Persian or Arabic into German, and to provide background information and their own analyses and interpretations of the text.

The result was that each student presented their own point of view. The original texts revealed new knowledge with each reading. This is because court historians cleverly disguised criticism in their writing, which was otherwise apparently full of praise and compliments for the rulers of the time.

An example of this can be found in Shams-i Siraj Afif’s book Tarikh-i-Firoz Shahi. The book describes an episode where Firoz Shah Tughlaq encountered a soldier with his horse during a procession. The king stopped the soldier and asked why the horse was not registered. The soldier replied that he couldn’t register his horse because the registration official had asked him for two gold coins as a bribe.

Hearing this, Firoz Shah gave the soldier two gold coins and asked him to go register his horse. On this, Shams-i-Siraj Afif remarks: “See how charitable and beneficent the king is — he empathises with the poor and helps them!” Another meaning may be taken from this description, however — that of how rampant bribery and deeply rooted corruption was that even the king was powerless to do anything about it. Indeed, if texts are read carefully, several meanings can be derived.

Another thing I learned was that, when writing on any topic, it is important to provide evidence and examples with conciseness to get your point across. I remember when I submitted my first essay to my professor, he returned it, highlighting my mistakes in red. He had read every single word and offered advice whereas, in our country, no professor ever read a student’s work in such detail or identified our mistakes.

In German universities, one of the basic rules of research is that you must learn the language that the original texts are written in. If the texts relevant for your research are in Arabic, Persian or Turkish, it is mandatory to learn these languages, rather than rely on translations. Then, it is essential to delve deep and research the subject matter, so that the thesis is a work of scholarship generating and contributing new knowledge to the field.

In Germany, it is tradition that the professor with whom you are working is called your ‘doctor father’. It means the significance of this relationship is that of a father and child. The students are indeed like the professor’s own family. If a professor leaves for another university, he takes his student family with him.

My professor’s name was Herbert Busse. He was an Arabic and Persian scholar famous for his books on the history of Iran and Arabia. He was a well-respected European Orientalist. He was a caring teacher. He wrote several letters to many institutions to get me a scholarship.

My professor’s name was Herbert Busse. He was an Arabic and Persian scholar famous for his books on the history of Iran and Arabia. He was a well-respected European Orientalist. He was a caring teacher. He wrote several letters to many institutions to get me a scholarship. Resultantly, I received a PhD scholarship from the Social Democratic Party’s Friedrich Ebert Foundation. It enabled me to pursue my studies easily.

Another incident that reveals his caring nature is when we went with members of the department to lunch in the city of Aachen. It was the norm for each person to pay for their own meal. My financial situation when I first arrived in Germany was dire and, when the bill arrived, my professor insisted that he would pay for me. While I was there, my professor moved from Bochum to the University of Kiel. I will never forget his kindness, compassion and love.

Professors in German universities tend to give more importance to research of the classical period. They learn Sanskrit and other ancient languages to study the history of the Indian Subcontinent. Similar importance is also given to the classical period in Chinese history.

Departments of Islamic history can be found in almost all German universities. Here, foundational research on various topics of Islamic history has been conducted. Old Arabic and Persian texts have been edited and published. A research journal by the name of Der Islam regularly publishes high impact work in the field.

At Bochum University, I improved my grasp on Arabic and Persian, particularly Ancient Persian. It was an Irani teacher who taught us Samad Behrangi’s famous story Mahi-i-Sia’he Kochoulou [The Little Black Fish]. This was written in Tehrani Persian and published posthumously. Behrangi wrote this allegorical and revolutionary story in the time of the Shah of Iran. For this perceived crime, he was kidnapped and killed by the Shah’s secret agency SAVAK, and his body was dumped in a river. I translated this story into Urdu and published it. I also translated stories written by Palestinians from Arabic into Urdu.

Professors draft a new syllabus every semester at German universities. Usually, this syllabus includes the latest research papers. German students attend courses offered by famous professors at other universities to expand their educational horizons, but earn their degree at their parent institution. If students fail an exam, they are given just one more opportunity to pass. If they fail in the second attempt, their admission is cancelled.

Another important thing is that there is no boundary between science, arts and commerce. For example, a friend of mine was admitted into medical school after completing a degree in philosophy. The standard of each subject is set so high that a student of physics can also get a degree in history. Therefore, in Germany, you will meet the doctor who runs his clinic and has a PhD in Chinese history. This German model has been adopted by many European and American universities.

The politics of students in German universities has always been important. During the 1960s and 1970s, there were a large number of left-leaning teachers and students. During the Vietnam war, students participated in protests and invited learned speakers and politicians to give lectures. When students are nurtured in such an environment, their mental capabilities develop.

Due to the differences in the educational system, our students neither have access to able teachers nor is their cognition nurtured. While European and American universities are creating new knowledge through research, we are merely recipients of this knowledge. If societies do not create new knowledge, they become mental slaves of those that do.

One example of this is that, instead of research on Pakistan being conducted in this country, we are reliant on work being done at universities abroad. Our own history and culture are seen through the lens of international experts.

This is not just limited to the history of Pakistan. Seminal research on the history of the Indian Subcontinent and Islam is being conducted by foreign experts. While India has become self-reliant by investing in the training of excellent historians with expertise in their own history, whose research is recognised on the international stage, we remain in a far inferior state. We call Stanley Wolpert to lecture on Quaid-i-Azam and rely on Karen Armstrong to understand Islamic history.

In the 1970s, ‘Area Studies’ was introduced country-wide at Pakistani universities. For instance, Japan was meant to be taught at the University of Sindh, Arab countries at Balochistan institutions, Europe at the University of Karachi, America at Islamabad’s university, Asian countries at Peshawar, and South Asia at Punjab universities. The purpose of this was that each centre would conduct research on the history, culture, politics and language of the assigned region. This was meant to enable them to advise the foreign ministry.

However, the opposite happened. Teachers were hired by these institutions who had no expertise in the required subjects. Like other departments, these centres of learning were in name only. They did not generate any research worthy of recognition at either the national or international level.

Our educational system was delivered a further blow with the start of private universities, established purely for profit. The subjects taught here are those that are more marketable, for example IT [information technology] and management. Social sciences are either not taught or are given very little importance.

Students at these institutions are not exposed to philosophy, literature, sociology, psychology, history and the arts. Therefore, they are unable to truly understand society and its problems. The educational system, from school all the way to university, deeply embeds traditional thought in students’ minds, and renders them unable to develop any new ideas, creative thinking and curiosity.

Kulsoom Ghias is Associate Professor and Chair, Department of Biological and Biomedical Sciences at Aga Khan University and can be reached at kulsoom.ghias@aku.edu

HR Ahmad is Professor in the Department of Biological and Biomedical Sciences at Aga Khan University

Published in Dawn, EOS, February 27th, 2022