Dangerous ground
UNIVERSITIES have long been celebrated as platforms for the free exchange of ideas, innovation and social progress. But Pakistanis should be concerned about the kinds of ideas that are being exchanged on campuses around the country.
Recent media reports, though unverified, have linked Islami Jamiat-i-Talaba, the student wing of the Jamaat-i-Islami, to militant groups. Although the IJT does not have a history of perpetrating terrorist activity, its extremist views and vigilante role at university campuses are well known. The group’s members are known to have harassed or attacked students, including women, for taking photographs, dressing in an ‘un-Islamic’ fashion, and mingling with members of the opposite sex.
Punjab Universitys music department, it has been reported, has also operated in the basement of the Alhamra Arts Council since the IJT deemed it un-Islamic. Faculty members who have objected to IJT’s aggressive efforts to Islamise campuses are threatened or assaulted; for example, a senior Punjab University professor was beaten by IJT activists severely enough to merit hospitalisation in 2010, after he expelled some members of the group.
And the problem is by no means restricted to the IJT. In Karachi, for instance, the extremist mindset among the younger generation is such that Taliban-affiliated groups reportedly include students enrolled in universities.
The sporadic media spotlight on extremist trends at local universities often sparks a pointless blame game: university faculty ask government officials why they fail to order police inspections and keep hostels free of ‘foreign elements’; government officials fault the university administration for failing to closely monitor student activities. What no one is asking is why Pakistan’s university-going youth might be interested in supporting jihadi organisations.
Few things capture Pakistan’s societal rot better than the fact that the places of learning for our next generation have been co-opted by those who embrace violence, authoritarianism and extremism, rather than critical thinking and debate. And nothing bodes worse for the country’s future.
Sadly, we know how we found ourselves in this predicament — by tolerating the weaknesses of our educational institutions; failing to develop counter-narratives to extremist discourse; ignoring the proliferation of jihadi content on the internet; neglecting campus politics; and proving incapable of giving our youth enough options and aspirations.
Varsity administrations have proved no match for well-organised, militia-like student groups. Following the 2010 attack against the Punjab University professor, for example, the administration adopted conciliatory tones, blaming the violence on ‘non-student elements’ and declaring that it was not prejudiced against any student groups. Such kowtowing can be explained by the dearth of resources and lack of recourse to law enforcement agencies or the state.
It also doesn’t help that students encounter few narratives challenging the rhetoric of extremism, which is increasingly accessible to students as militant groups use snazzy websites and social media outlets such as Facebook and YouTube to reach out to middle-class recruits.
Surveys confirm that extremist discourse resonates with young Pakistanis. According to a British Council report released in April this year, 64pc of young males and 75pc of young females described themselves as conservative/religious; 38pc of youngsters surveyed favoured Sharia law; and 75pc expressed concerns about being exposed to foreign media, films, music and ideas. Clearly, a large section of our youth has bought in to extremist narratives about the clash of civilisations and the need for a return to an idealised Islamic society.
The openness to these ideas on university campuses in part stems from the state’s successful stifling of campus politics. In the absence of diverse student groups, there is no one to counter extremist narratives and productively channel the frustrations of students who are currently lured by them.
Although the previous government lifted a long-standing ban on student union elections, a culture of campus politics has not been revived, even though democracy has historically been the best antidote to the heavy-handed ways of the IJT and its ilk.
Despite the youth-related brouhaha during this year’s election, political parties at the national level have also done a poor job of capturing the imagination — and optimism — of university students. Although Pakistan Tehreek-i-Insaf and, subsequently, other mainstream parties made overtures to the youth via social media, concerts and free laptops, none of the parties outlined a comprehensive youth policy or strategised how to reap the demographic dividend.
More broadly, the state is not providing the youth with post-graduation opportunities, and is thereby failing to cultivate youth aspirations to engage with global trends rather than resist them — fewer than 10pc of youngsters surveyed by the British Council believe the country offers them sufficient employment opportunities. Such despondency and the lack of positive goals no doubt makes the zeal and purposefulness of extremism seem an attractive choice.
Too often, discussions about student radicalisation posit local universities as microcosms of the country at large — spaces where a belligerent minority terrorises a tolerant, inclusive and peace-loving majority. This resort to symbolism distracts from the fact that campus trends are manifestations of societal trends, and once again highlight the horrifying consequences of state ambivalence vis-à-vis violent extremist groups.
The writer is a freelance journalist.huma.yusuf@gmail.com