Education for Muslim Children in the Uk: a Critical Analysis of Some Issues Arising from Contrasting Liberal and Islamic Approaches to Contemporary Problems

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EDUCATION FOR MUSLIM CHILDREN IN THE UK: A CRITICAL ANALYSIS OF SOME ISSUES ARISING FROM CONTRASTING LIBERAL AND ISLAMIC APPROACHES TO CONTEMPORARY PROBLEMS

J. M. HALSTEAD

CORPUS CHRISTI COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE

UNIVERSITY LIBRA41Y CAMABROGE

A DISSERTATIONSUBMITTED TO

THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE IN CANDIDATURE

FOR THE DEGREEOF DOCTOROF PHILOSOPHYIN EDUCATION

SEPTEMBER1989 PREFACE

I certify that this dissertationis the result of my own work and includesnothing which is the outcomeof work done in collaboration. Where anotherauthor has been quotedor otherwisereferred to, this is indicatedin the courseof the text.

I further declare that this dissertation is not substantially the same as any that I have submitted for a degree or diploma or other qualification at any other university.

No part of my dissertation has already been or is being concurrently submitted for a degree or diploma or other qualification. The dissertation is, however, on a related topic to my M. Phil. thesis which was submitted to the University of Cambridge in

1985, and published in an expandedversion the following year under the title The Case for Muslim Voluntary-Aided Schools: some Philosophical Reflections. The main arguments of the M. Phil. thesis are summarised in the last section of Chapter Eight of the present dissertation, and brief references to it elsewhere in the dissertation are indicated by the reference '(Halstead, 1986)'.

I further certify that the dissertationdoes not exceedthe prescribedlimit of 80,000 words.

Finally, I acknowledge with warm gratitude the advice and support of my supervisor at the University of Cambridge Department of Education, Mr T. H. McLaughlin, throughoutthe period of writing.

2 SUMMARY OF DISSERTATION:

EDUCATION FOR MUSLIM CHILDREN IN THE U. K:

A CRITICAL ANALYSIS OF SOME ISSUES ARISING FROM CONTRASTING LIBERAL AND ISLAMIC APPROACHES TO CONTEMPORARY PROBLEMS.

BY J. M. HALSTEAD

An analysisof contemporarytrends in the educationof Muslim children in the U.K. indicatesthat in the 1960sand 1970sthere was a strongemphasis on meetingthe specialneeds of Muslim children, but theseneeds were neitherdefined by the Muslim community nor based on any framework of Islamic values. More recently, some educationalproviders have soughtto respondat leastto someMuslim demands,and a notion of accountabilityto the Muslim communityis developingin somequarters.

Accountability, however, implies rights, and rights are usually understood from within a liberal framework of values. On a liberal view, the rights of Muslim parents to bring up their children in their own religion and the rights of the Muslim community to educate Muslim children in keeping with distinctive Islamic beliefs and values are

constrained by the claim that the autonomy of the child must be vouchsafed in any form

of educational provision. There is clearly a deep-seatedclash of values between Islam

and liberalism. From a sketch of fundamental Islamic values, an Islamic view of

education may be developedwhich is in disagreementwith liberal education particularly

on three points: the need for critical openness, the need for personal and moral

autonomy and the need to negotiate a set of agreed values if any common educational

system is to be achieved. The search for sufficient common ground between liberals

and Muslims is unsuccessfulbecause Muslims insist on building their education around

3 Summary a set of religious beliefs which liberals believe schoolshave no businessto reinforce, while liberalsoffend Islamicprinciples by insistingthat religiousbeliefs, like all beliefs, must always be considered challengeable and revisable and should therefore be presentedto children in a way which respectsthe ultimate freedom of individuals to make choices for themselves. The only way out of this impassein practice is for liberals to back down from their insistenceon a commoneducation for all children,and to accept that Muslims should be allowed their own denominational schools. The dangerthat the Muslim communitymay becomeisolated and sociallyvulnerable may be reduced through increased co-operation with other faith communities, especially Christians.

The dissertationthus consistsof three intertwining strands:multi-culturalism in educationalpolicy; applied social philosophy,especially relating to rights and liberal education; and Islamic theology. It begins with an examination of contemporary practice,moves to an analysisof the issuesand principles underlying that practice,and then finally returnsto practicewith recommendationsmade in the light of the preceding discussion.

4 CONTENTS

PART ONE: EDUCATION FOR MUSLIM CHILDREN IN THE U. K: PROBLEMS, PRACTICE AND PRINCIPLES.

CHAPTER ONE: EDUCATION FOR MUSLIM CHILDREN IN THE U. K:

THE PROBLEMS 8 ......

CHAPTERTWO: EDUCATION FOR MUSLIM CHILDREN IN THE U.K: PRACTICE 33 CONTEMPORARY ......

CHAIYFERTHREE: EDUCATION FOR MUSLIM CHILDREN IN THE U.K:

THE PRINCIPLE OF ACCOUNTABILITY ...... 55

PART TWO: THE RIGHTS OF MUSLIMS: A LIBERAL PERSPECTIVE.

CHAVIER FOUR: THE LIBERAL OF VALUES 85 FRAMEWORK ......

CHAPTERFIVE: A LIBERAL VIEW OF MUSLIM PARENTS'RIGHTS 96 ......

CHAPTER SIX: A LIBERAL VIEW OF MUSLIM COMMUNITY RIGHTS.116

5 Contents

PART THREE: THE ISLAMIC WORLD VIEW.

CHAPTERSEVEN: AN ISLAMIC FRAMEWORK OF VALUES 149 ......

CHAPTEREIGHT: AN ISLAMIC VIEW OF EDUCAnON 169 ......

CHAPTERNINE: ISLAM AND LIBERALISM:

THE SEARCH FOR COMMON GROUND 201 ......

PART FOUR: EDUCATION FOR MUSLIM CHILDREN IN THE U. K: POSSIBILITIES.

CHAPTERTEN: MUSLIM DENOMINATIONAL SCHOOLS

RECONSIDERED 235 ......

APPENDIX ONE 256 ......

BIBLIOGRAPHY ...... 282

6 PART ONE EDUCATION FOR MUSLIM CHILDREN IN THE U. K: PROBLEMS, PRACTICE AND PRINCIPLES.

7 CHAPTER ONE

EDUCATION FOR MUSLIM CHILDREN IN THE U. K.: THE PROBLEMS

The questionof what sort of educationshould be providedfor Muslim childrenin the U.K. hasbecome one of the biggestissues facing educationaldecision makers at the presenttime. The problem is a recent one, for it is only in the last thirty yearsthat a

Muslim communityof any significantsize at all hasexisted in the U.K., and only in the last ten yearsor so that demandsfor educationalchange have been voiced seriouslyby

Muslim parentsand leaders.

There are still no accuratefigures of the numbersof Muslims in the U.K. A total of one-and-a-halfto two million is often mentioned(cf McDermottand Ahsan, 1980,p 11), but this may be an over-estimate.What is not in dispute,however, is the fact that the Muslim community is the fastestgrowing of all religious, racial or ethnic minority groupsin the U.K. The CentralStatistical Office estimatesthat the numberof Muslims has risen from 400,000 in 1975 to 750,000 in 1983 and to 900,000 in 1989 (CSO, 1989, para. 11.8), making them the third largest religious group in the U.K., after Anglicansand Roman Catholics.

The Muslims, of course,are only one of severalgroups of immigrantsto arrive in this country over the last 150 years.Earlier groups,such as the Irish, the Jewsand the

EastEuropeans, were expectedto integrateand becomeassimilated into British culture as quickly as possible and were generally welcomed to the extent that they were preparedto conform (cf Halstead,1988, ch 1). On the whole, they learnedto do this, and graduallybecame almost indistinguishable from the indigenouspopulation. Thus Muslims began in when to arrive significant numbersfrom the Indian sub-continent

UNIVERSITY LIBRARY CAMBRIDGE ChapterOne from the late 1950'sonwards, to supply a demandfor cheapand compliant labour, it was assumedthat if they stayed in the UX - and many came originally with the intentionof returningto their countryof origin in due course- they too would gradually integrate. It has taken sometime for it to becomeapparent that Muslims may not, in fact, follow the patternof previouswaves of immigrants.

Someof the characteristicsof the Muslim community which mark them out as distinct from the indigenous population are naturally the same as those of earlier immigrants: the use of unfamiliar languagesand correspondinginadequate grasp of

English;the emotionaland other links with their placeof origin; the strongemphasis on

family andcommunity loyalty; the initial desireto maintaintheir distinctiveculture; and the tendencyto be concentratedat the lower endof the scalein housingand employment

(or, more recently, unemployment). Other distinguishing characteristics,however,

may provemore difficult to castoff. In commonwith morerecent waves of immigrants such as the West Indians, the Hindus, the Sikhs and the Vietnameseboat people,the

vast majority of Muslims in the U.K. have a racial origin and skin colour which make them immediatelydistinguishable from the indigenouswhite populationand which can

easily form the basisfor prejudiceand discrimination. The lack of a commonEuropean culiure, as seenin their dress,diet, music,habits of bargainingand many other areasof behaviour, makes their 'foreignness' more noticeable. The practice of arranged

marriagesamong Asians has ensured that therehas been virtually no intermarriagewith other communities.In many of the largerBritish cities, Muslims andother Asianshave

set up a whole network of small businesseswhich serveto make their communities

more self-contained.As Shepherdpoints out,

The cotVlete rangeof commercialfacilitiesavailable is one reinforcerof the

separatenessof the SouthAsians. There is little needfor contact with the hostpopulation exceptin the areas of educationand employment,and it is

9 ChapterOne

thuseasier to mintain identificationwith cultural roots. (1987,p 264)

Undoubtedly, however, what binds the Muslim community together most strongly and marks them out as separatefrom the indigenous population is their religion.

Islam presentsitself as a complete way of life. Religion for the Muslim is essentially a matter of following the divine law (sharia), which contains not only

universalmoral principles, suchas justice or charity, but also detailedinstructions for

every aspectof human life, both relating to God (e.g. the obligation to pray, fast and

perform the pilgrimage to Mecca) and relating to fellow human beings (e.g. the

commendationof hospitality,or of femalemodesty). 'Ibis commitment(or submission)

to the divine law, which is based on the Quran and the sayings of the Prophet

Muhammad, provides the unifying element in the community of believers, both

worldwide and within the U.K. It also lies behind all the requestsand demandsmade

by Muslim leadersto secularauthorities in the U.K., including requestsfor halal meat

to be provided for Muslims in schoolsand hospitals,and demandsfor the banningof The Satanic Verses by Salman Rushdie, which is considered blasphemous. The

various educationaldemands made by Muslims, which are set out in Appendix One, also stemfrom their concernthat educationalprovision for their children shouldbe in harmonywith their distinctive beliefs as Muslims. This concernhas led to a variety of outcomes, from the insistence on single-sex education at secondarylevel, to the

establishmentof a number of independentMuslim schools, to the call for separate

Muslim voluntary-aided schools, and to the continued practice of sending Muslim

children to mosque schools in the evenings and at weekends for supplementary religious instruction.

10 ChapterOne

ý How far the commitmentto live strictly in line with Islamic principlesis a reality in the lives of ordinary Muslims in the U.K. is a matterfor empiricalinvestigation. My own fieldwork (Halstead,1988), suggests that many Muslims would rather acceptthe authorityof the local irnam(religious leader) when making decisionsabout how to live, than their own independentjudgement. Not everyone adopts such an uncritical approach,however, in her researchon the Mirpuri villages in Bradford, SaifullahKhan

(1975)blames the imamsfor damagingthe chancesof integrationby their emphasison the fundamentalreligious principlesand traditionsof Islam. In 1987,a programmeon PennineRadio in which Asian teenagersfrom Bradford aired their views on life in

Britain, seemedto confirm her findings: one claimed that politicians were making integration more difficult by making concessionsto Muslim demands,and that the provision of halal meatin schoolswas a'political stunt',while anothermaintained that many Muslims were not particularly interestedin multi-million pound mosqueswhich the community could not afford'. Others claimed to be engagedin the processof educatingtheir parentsin Western values, and that they themselvesare leaming to best combine the qualities of both cultures - respect and an ability to question (cf Telegraph-andAreu-s., 26 September1987). However,the imamscould haveno power and influence in the Muslim community if there were not significant numberswho acceptedtheir religious authority, and it is clear that there are many Muslims in the U.K. who seekto live their own lives in accordancewith Islamic principles and values and who believe that they should bring up their children to sharethe samevalues. Kitwood and Borrill (1980) have shownthat althoughMuslim adolescentsin Bradford experienceconflict betweenrival value systems,the primary loyalty of most of themis still to their own families and Islamic culture. And many Muslim parentsbelieve that the preservationof this loyalty is one of the main purposesof education.

My own research(Halstead, 1988, pp 13-19) has shown that Muslims in the

U.K. are typically brought up in large families living on a low income in sub-standard andovercrowded housing and that they commonlyexperience the kind of disadvantages

11 ChapterOne associatedwith an inner-city upbringing (cf Wedgeand Prosser,1973; Murphy, 1987;

West, 1987). Poor qualificationsand the experienceof discriminationensure that they are at or near the bottom of the pile in the searchfor employment. In addition to the pressuresarising from the struggle to find their own identity between conflicting cultures, they often have to cope with direct experiencesof racism at the sametime. Not unexpectedly,Muslim parentslook to educationas a way of solving such social andeconomic problems and of ensuringa bettereconomic future for their childrenthan they havehad themselves.

To sum up, thereare two basicprinciples which manyMuslim parentsand leaders in the U.K. consider essential for their children's educatiow, first, accessto the

opportunitiesoffered by a generaleducation, which includeliving asfull British citizens without fear of racismor otherforms of prejudice,competing in the employmentmarket

on an equal footing with non-Muslims,and, more generally,enjoying the benefits of

modern scientific and technological progress; and secondly, the preservation, maintenanceand transmissionof their distinctiveIslamic beliefs andvalues, which will

help to shapethe identity of Muslim children, give them a rootednessand stability as

they grow up andprovide the foundationfor a harmoniousMuslim communityin years

to come. Leaving aside for the moment the question of whether thesetwo aims are themselvescompatible, I want to considerbriefly how they relate to the goal of social integration. This is often regardedas a crucial educationalaim in the West,because it is seenas the only way of creatingsocial stability, harmonyand bureaucraticefficiency in

a pluralist society, and of facilitating the developmentof common values and moral

understandingbetween the various groups in society. The first Muslim aim would

appearin itself to be in completeharmony with the goal of social integration:education

would be used to remove any barriers (such as inadequateEnglish or cross-cultural

understanding,or the experienceof racism or other forms of prejudice) which might

prevent them from competing on equal terms with their indigenous peers in the employmentmarket and elsewhere.It is not difficult to see,however, that the second

12 ChapterOne

Muslim aim is pulling in a quite differentdirection than social integration; for in seeking to preservetheir own distinctive beliefs and values,Muslims are not only emphasising

their differencesfrom other groupsin society,but are also challengingwhat liberals

would see'as fundamental values in our contemporary society, such as personal autonomyand critical openness.Indeed someMuslims seethe need to protect their children from the undesirableinfluences of the broadersociety (cf Husain and Ashraf, 1979,p 40). 1 have discussedthe apparentincompatibility of the aim of 'preserving religious or cultural identity' andthe aim of 'achievingsocial integration!in more detail elsewhere(Halstead, 1986, pp 5 ff), but two exampleswill serve to illustrate the

problem here. The first is the practice of someMuslim parentsof taking or sending

their children on extendedtrips to the Indian sub-continent(cf Halstead,1988, p 40f). No doubt suchtrips help their children to developa greaterawareness of their cultural and religious roots, but equally the trips may hold back their developmentof the

English languageand other skills they require if they are to participate fully in the

political, social and economiclife of the U.K. The secondexample is the questionof co-education,which is widely perceivedin this countryto haveeducational advantages.

However,the Muslim belief that boys and girls shouldnot mix freely after pubertyhas made single-sex schools, particularly for Muslim girls, one of the most persistent demandsof the Muslim community. The conflict between'preserving cultural identity' and'achievingsocial integration'as educationalobjectives appears to be a fundamental one (Schofthaler, 1984,p 11), and there would seemto be occasionswhere the one objective can be promoted, only at the expense of the other. It is with this incompatibility of educationalaims and with the conflicting values that lie behind the incompatibilitythat I am primarily concernedin the presentthesis.

The ramifications of this conflict would no doubt provide a fruitful field for

sociologicalresearch, and suchan approachmay well representthe conflict in termsof

a struggleof power andinterest between a don-dnantmajority and a dominatedminority. Weber (1968, p 342) seessocial closure (Schliessungder Gemeinshaft as a way of

13 ChapterOne excluding groupswho do not conform in language,religion and customsfrom social, political and economic advantages.The dominant group resentsthe non-integrated minorities (suchas immigrants)and seeksto consolidateits own power and control at their expense(cf Schutz,1964), but the minority group might turn the socialclosure to its own advantageby makingthe ensuingminority group solidaritya sourceof strength; in this case,social closurewould be resistedby the dominant group. The caseof the Muslims as so far describedseems to fit this analysisclosely. Economicallydeprived and discriminatedagainst in housing,employment and other areas,the Muslims have

found strength and solidarity in their distinctive religious beliefs and values; but,

perhapsbecause of fears that such group solidarity would underminethe cohesionof

the broader pluralist society, the Muslims have been discouragedby the dominant

majority from using educationto reinforcetheir own distinctivebeliefs andvalues.

In the presentthesis, however, I am not so much concernedwith the underlying

motivesand power strugglesat work in the disagreementsbetween the Muslim minority and the indigenous majority in the U. K. Rather, I am concernedwith the actual

argumentsused by eachside. For in sucha debateabout educational goals, a way must be found of weighing one setof claims againstthe other,otherwise, the debatemay end up merely as a processof assertionand counter assertion(cf MacIntyre, 1981,p 8).

My approach,therefore, will be broadly philosophical,rather than sociological,and I intend to examine,from a standpointof appliedsocial philosophy,the main issuesthat lie behindthe questionof educationalprovision for the Muslim communityin the U.K.

This will involve both the mapping out of what Ryle (1949, p 11) calls the 'logical

geography'of relevant conceptssuch as needs,accountability, rights, autonomy,the

public interest, community, pluralism, religious beliefs and values, critical openness

and democracy, and a comparison between Islamic educational ideals and those

prevalentin contemporaryBritish education,with a view to discoveringwhat common ground there is and what fundamentaldifferences. It is hoped that the thesiswill not only (to use Gribble's terminology: 1969,p 3) make aTew inroads'into thejungle of

14 ChapterOne unanalysedverbiage! about the education of Muslims in the U.K. and place a few signpostsat strategicpoints wherenone existed before, but will also by a clarification of the underlying issuesbe able to point to certain coursesof action as being more justifiable and appropriateto the presentsituation than others.

****

An appropriatestarting point is to look at four possible ways of resolving the conflict between social integration and the preservation of cultural identity as

educationalaims. There is, of course,a whole spectrumof possibleapproaches to the

problem,but the four I havechosen form interestingcontrasts and serveto highlight the

centralissues. Two of the approachesare extreme, two more moderate;two are drawn

from a Muslim perspective,two from a Western;two concludethat socialintegration is

of prior value and two the preservation of cultural identity. The two extreme

approachesI havecalled assimilationismand isolationism.

Assimilationism is basedon the idea that 'the responsibility for the adaptations

and adjustmentsinvolved in settlingin a new country lies entirely with thosewho have come here to settle' (Honeyford, 1982b). If immigrants or minority groups seek to

preserveintact their own social customs,manners and behaviour,religious and moral beliefs and practices,language, aesthetic values and leisure activities, this is seenas likely to standin the way of their progress.Minorities arethus encouragedto turn their

back on their own culture and to becomeabsorbed by the majority culture. Indeed,so

far as they refuse to do so, this is sometimesthought to justify inferior treatmentand

discrimination. I have suggestedelsewhere (Halstead, 1988, pp 145-7) that this

insistenceon assimilation may be a form of racism. Certainly, to insist on cultural conformity without good reasonis a form of domination and oppression,but because cultural differencesoften go hand in hand with racial differences,hostility towardsa

racial group often finds expressionin hostility to that group's 'alien' culture. It is not

15 ChapterOne uncommon to find that members of ethnic minorities who turn their back on their own distinctive culture and who conform to the cultural values and expectations of the

majority are treated with respect,whereas those who retain their cultural differences are

treated with racial hostility. The demand for assimilation is associatedparticularly with

the political philosophy of the New Right. Thus Casey (1982), writing in the first issue

of The SalisbuIX Review, argues that the presence of different cultures in a single

country is likely to causeunacceptable social divisions. He claims that this problem can

only be overcome by the assimilation of minority groups, but if they resist assimilation,

the only 'radical policy that would stand a chance of successis repatriation. It is not

only right-using Conservatives, however, who see assimilation as the answer to the

problem of immigrant or religious minorities who do not share the values of the

majority. Writing from a liberal perspective,Raz (1986, p 423-4) arguesthat if the life

offered to the young in such communities is too impoverished,

assimilationist policies may well be the only humane course, even if

bnplementedbyforce of law.

Isolationism is the refusal of a minority group (in this case,the Muslims) to make

any concessionsto the fact that they are living in a society where the majority do not

share their own beliefs and values. Tbough isolationist tendenciesamong the Muslim

community in the U. K. have already been noted in the present chapter (living in ghetto

communities, continuing to u se mother tongues, engaging in socially exclusive leisure

activities, maintaining traditional patterns of food and clothing, marriage within the

community, making the mosque the centre of community life, and so on), it seems

unlikely that complete isolation could ever occur. Indeed, it is hardly compatible with

the first aim of education mentioned earlier, of coming to live as full British citizens.

Muslims in the U. K. still typically interact with the broader society to a greater or less

extent in education, (except for the few who attend independent Muslim schools), employment and political and commercial activity. Perhaps isolationism is best

16 ChapterOne understoodas a stateof mind. The caseof Abdullah Patelin the early 1970sillustrates this isolationist attitude. He objectedon religious groundsto the placementof his daughter Kulsumbanu in a co-educationalupper school, and despite very strong pressureto conform from the local educationauthority, he kept her at homeuntil she reachedschool-leaving age. When askedwhether his strict Quranic stancewould damageBraffords hopesof integration,he replied:

Integration Co-existence, but integration is was never possible ... yes, the dream of an idealist. Our cultures, religions are too far apart. When the

British were in India, did they integrate? (quoted in Yorkshire Evening Post, 3 December 1973)

Muslims in the U.K. are frequentlydepicted in the British pressas isolationists,

though not necessarilyalways with completejustice. Selbourne(1984; 1987,p 115) fiercely attackswhat he seesas the reactionary,undemocratic and anti-socialMuslim imams hang Islam of a centuryago', who'are trying to on to ... the village of a quarter Pedley (1986) writes of the dangersof 'monocultural self-imposedapartheid', and Honeyfordfrequently criticises the 'purdahmentality' of Muslim parentswho refuseto conform to the valuesof the indigenouspopulation whether in morality, in dressor in ways of expressingtheir ideas(1983a, 1983b, 1984).

Honeyford sometimes seems to imply in his articles that assimilationism and

isolationism are the only Tealpossibilities when it comes to a fundamental conflict of

educational values. On one occasion, he writes about a Muslim father who tried to

withdraw his daughter from swimming lessons on religious grounds. Honeyford saw

this as a direct clash over educationalprinciples:

I had to run a school which was obliged both from conviction and legal

necessityto ensure equal opportunitiesfor girls. And denying a little girl the

UNIVERSITY 17 LIBRARY CAMBRIDGE ChapterOne

isolated I had her right to swim clearly ourprinciples ... no right to restrict hurnanpossibilities in the way herfather wanted. (1987)

Honeyford seessuch a situation in terms of a straightforward conflict between basing educational decisions on a 'purdah mentality' (that is, on isolationist principles) and seeldng to liberate children from the restricting cultures of their parents and thereby encouraging them to assimilate the values of the broader society. When he uses the metaphor of the school as a'cultural bridge' (1983b), he appearsto envisage that the

traffic on it is travelling only one way, from the 'purdah mentality' of the home to the

traditional culture and values of British society.

But thereare more moderatepaths between the two extremesof assimilationism and isolationism, two of which will now be discussed. The first involves the applicationof long-establishedliberal educationalprinciples to the comparativelynew social situation of pluralism in the U.K. it is multi-cultural education. The second

involves the willingnessof Muslims to participatefully in all areasof British life and culture, so long as they are able to retain, and transmit to their children, their fundamentalIslamic values and beliefs, though in casesof conflict.' the latter are consideredto be of prior importance.

The term 'multi-cultural education!is commonly used in two distinct senses.7be

first refers to the attempt in schools to respond positively to the cultural requirements

and sensitivities of children and parents from minority groups, though liberals would

add that this is justifiable only in so far as it can be achieved without contravening

fundamental educational objectives as they understandthem. The secondrefers to the

sort of education which is considered appropriate for all children if they are to be

adequately prepared for life in a pluralist society. The first is grounded on the wish to demonstrate respectfor the religious and cultural beliefs of the minority groups. It may

18 ChapterOne be seenin the consciousavoidance of putting children in the position wherethey are expectedto act in a way that is contraryto their deeplyheld beliefs;it thereforeincludes

mattersof clothing and diet, the observationof religious festivals, and so on. More positively, it may involve makingeducational use, for children from minority groups, of the cultural identity and experienceswhich they bring to their school;hence it will seekto makeuse of pupils' mothertongues. The secondis basedon a positiveview of cultural andreligious diversity as a sourceof enrichmentand breadth of perspective.It entails encouragingall children to develop a spirit of enquiry in relation to. other cultures,an opennessto andsympathetic understanding of a variety of waysof looking

at the world, a willingnessto enterinto the spirit of different civilisationsand societies, anda sensitiverespect for thosewith differentreligious beliefs and cultural values from their own.

These two sensesof multi-cultural education are of course closely connectedand

inter-dependent. In particular, schools can hardly encouragechildren to respect other

beliefs and cultures (type two) if they do not demonstrate such respect in their own

dealings with ethnic minority pupils (type one). However, the distinction remains a

valid one in a number of ways. The first type is possible only for schools which

contain children from minority groups, whereas the second is considered by its

advocates to be just as important for schools with no such pupils. Multi-cultural

education of the first type has been campaignedfor, sometimesquite passionately, by

various minority groups, including Muslims; multi-cultural education of the second

type, however, has not generally been campaigned for by minority groups (cf Swann

&=, 1985, p 238), but has been devised as a rational response to the educational

requirementsof our contemporarypluralist society.

Multi-cultural education in both sensesis closely linked to the search for racial justice. A desire to avoid the cultural domination associatedwith assimilationism has

clearly provided a significant impetus to multi-cultural education of the first type.

19 ChapterOne

Similarly, the wish to discourageracism, prejudice, bias andethnocentricity has been a major factor behindthe developmentof the secondtype. Even critics of multi-cultural educationacknowledge this. Thoseon the left often seeit as having similar aims to anti-racisteducation, though watered-down and ineffective in comparison;those on the right, including Honeyford,crificise it for damagingthe possibility of socialintegration by accentuatingboth cultural and racial differences. Supportersof multi-cultural education,however, argue that it is clearly in the interestsof the stateto showrespect towards the religious and cultural beliefs of minority groups and to avoid any appearanceof majoritariandomination, for this will encouragethe minority groupsto developa senseof loyalty to the broadercommunity, and socialharmony and cohesion will be increased.

Similarly, it is appropriatefor the stateto demonstratethe justice, toleranceand

celebrationof diversity which it expectsits componentgroups to show towardseach other. It is in the interestsof children to be encouragedto developa coherentself- identity, and not to be put in a position where the values they are presentedwith in school are in seriousconflict with thosethey have encounteredat home. A strong argumentcan thereforebe developedthat multi-culturaleducation of the first type is in the interestsof both the broadersociety (by encouragingsocial stability) and in the interestsof the individual child (by providing a more stablebase for a consistentself- conceptto develop). The aim of the concessionsinvolved in this type of muld-cultural educationis not to'inculcatean uncriticalacceptance of any conceptionof the goodlife' (Ackerman,1980, p163), which would, of course,be unjustifiable on a liberal view, but to provide children with continuity and stability and to avoid unnecessarily disorientingthem.

The second type of muld-cultural education, which seeksto prepare children for

life in a pluralist society by encouragingthem to respect those whose beliefs and values differ from their own, to see diversity as a source of enrichment, and to be open to a

20 ChapterOne variety of ways of looking at the world, is even more in line with a liberal view of education. As Parekh (1985) points out, if children never get beyond the framework of their own culture and beliefs (even if these are sharedby the majority in their country), they are unlikely to develop lively, enquiring minds, imagination or a critical faculty.

A mono-cultural diet is likely to breed 'arrogance and insensitivity' among children from the majority culture and'profound self-alienation' and a distorted self-concept among minority children. Multi-cultural education,on the other hand, is

an educationinfireedom -fireedomfirom inherited biases and narrowfeelings and sentiments, as well as freedom to explore other cultures and

perspectivesand make choices in full awarenessof the available and practicable alternatives. Multi-cultural education is, therefore, not a departurefrom, nor incompatible with, but a further refinementof, the

liberal idea of education.It doesnot cut off childrenfromtheir own culture. Rather, it enablesthem to enrich, refine and take a broader view of it losing in it if is to developsuch without their roots ... education concerned basic humancapacities as curiosity, seyý-criticism,capaciryfor rej7ection, ability toform an independentjudgement, sensitivity, intellectual humility and respect for others, and to open the pupil's mind to the great achievementsof mankind,then it mustbe multi-culturalin orientation. (Parekh,1985, p 22f)

In the same article, Parekh dismisses the view that multi-cultural education is

necessarily based on cultural relativism, as has been implied by Scruton (1986) and

others. Parekh arguesthat different cultures have a right to be understoodin their own

terms, and that they need to be explored sympathetically, not judged superficially on the

basis of the norms and values of another culture; but this is not to claim that they are

above all criticism andjudgement. The debateabout cultural relativism is, of course,an

extended one (cf Warnock, 1979; Cooper, 1980, pp 138 ff, Walkling, 1980; Zec,

21 ChapterOne

1980,etc. ), but the onus clearly lies with thosewho want to arguethat multi-cultural educationis basedon relativist assumptionsto attemptto justify their view. Parekh furtherpoints out that evenif a cultureis ultimatelyjudged to be defective,this mustnot be taken to meanthat its adherentsare less deservingof respectas humanbeings or havea weakerclaim to basichuman rights.

Thus, without necessitatingan acceptanceof cultural relativism or claiming that different cultures cannot be criticised and evaluated, multi-cultural education in both

sensesprovides a serious attempt to resolve the conflict between social integration and

the preservation of cultural identity. It is integrationist to the extent that it stressesthe

need for a common educationalexperience for all children and that it is committed to the

search for a framework of agreed values which will help to encourage a sense of

belonging to the broader community. In its tentative vision of the future, the Swann

Rej2crt (DES, 1985, p 8) goes so far as to say:

Weare perhapslookingfor the assimilationof all groupswithin a redefined conceptof what it meansto live in British societytoday.

But thisredefined concept!includes the belief that membersof minority groups should

be free to maintain their distinctive cultures and lifestyles within the limits mentioned

above and that children from minority groups have a right not to be put in a position in

schools where they are expectedto act contrary to their own beliefs and values. Multi-

cultural education is thus a rational responseto the presenceof ethnic minorities in the

U. K., basedon the values of freedom, equality and justice. It does not lack attachment

to history and tradition, for its roots can be traced through the long history of liberal education.

The final way of resolving the conflict between social integration and the

presentationof cultural identity that I want to consider is a moderate Islamic approach.

22 ChapterOne

It rejects isolationism and indeed encouragesMuslims to participatein all areasof British life andculture, so long asthey arefree to retaintheir distinctivereligious beliefs andvalues and transmit these to their children. ThusAshraf writes,

In two or three generations a group of Muslims will emerge who will be

British in their use of English, in some of their customs and conventions,

even in their love of English literature, but they will be Muslims not only in

their positive absolute values, but in those values that are completely anti-

modemist and anti-secularist.

(1986a,p vi)

It is noteworthy that in some respects this approach is more integrationist than

liberal multi-culturalism, for whereas the latter allows, and even encourages, the

maintenanceof mother-tongueteaching, the Islamic approachis happy to allow English

to take over completely as the language of day-to-day communication both within and

outside the Muslim community. Indeed, in many areasof culture, Muslims are happy

to absorb British customs and conventions. But they insist on distinguishing, in a way

that many contemporary sociologists do not, between 'culture' and 'religion'. 'Culture'

on an Islamic view encompasses all the customs, patterns of behaviour, human

institutions and lifestyles of a society, whereas 'religion' is based on divine revelation

and hence has a fixedness which is quite alien to culture. On the approach under

discussion, Muslims are happy to accept any Idnd of cultural change except where the

culture is directly linked to religious principles. Tbus it is quite acceptablefor a Muslim

to wear Western clothes so long as they do not breach the principles of decency and

modesty prescribed in the Quran and the hadith. But Muslims do not accept that

religion should itself be treated as one of a possible range of cultural options open to the

individual child. For Muslims, religion is the basis of the unity, indeed the very

existence, of the community of which, by birth and upbringing, they are a part. They

23 ChapterOne believe that the interests of the individual child do not exist in isolation from the group.

For the Muslim community religion provides

A comprehensiveviewpointfrom which perspective on other areas of life is

gained. Other domainsare not adequatelygrasped until they are assimilated

into the religious outlook.

(Strike, 1982b, p 88).

Such a view, of course,has potentially very profound educationalconsequences. It may involve rejectingthe autonomyof the academicdiscipline, which hastraditionally beencherished in liberal education.It may alsoinvolve a reassessmentof the meaning of personaland moral autonomy;if it meanssimply that one consentsoneself (autos) to be bound by a rule (nomos), this would be quite consistent with a religious

perspectiveon education,but morecommonly held liberal conceptsof autonomywould not (seebelow, ChapterEight).

Muslims who adopt this approach have shown no reluctance to accept the

minimum set of common values (including a basic social morality and a common

system of law and government) without which there could be no society at all, or to

accept that these should occupy a prominent place in public education. However, they

believe that all values have mots in religion and that it is only through an exploration of

'those fundamental absolutevalues which all religions share!(Ashraf, 1986a,p vi), that

an adequate conceptualisation of 'shared values' can be reached. A major Muslim

anxiety is that liberal multi-culturalism (as typified in the Swann ReI2M. for example) is

seeking to establish a set of foundational agreed values which are secular rather than being in grounded religion, and then to base a common education for all children on 7be is hardly these values. anxiety likely to be diminished by the claim by one liberal

that the price minorities must pay for general toleration in a pluralist society is 'the acceptanceof a public order at odds with (their) fundamental ideals' (Crittenden, 1982,

24 ChapterOne p 50). The anxietyis likely to turn to despairwhen Muslims find their own presencein the U.K. being used by liberal educationaliststo justify policies quite alien to their wishes. This last point has been explored in more detail elsewhere(Halstead and Khan-Cheema,1987), but for now one examplewill suffice. Both beforeand after the 1988Education Act, the presenceof Muslim and other non-Christianchildren in our schoolshas commonly been used as a major argument(for example,in the Swann Re]2ort. 1985, pp 497,519) againstthe continuation of a compulsory daily act of collectiveworship. However,many Muslim organisationshave made it clear that they do not wish to see any diminution of religion in schools and do not wish school worship to be discontinued,merely to be adaptedso that it doesnot conflict with the different faiths representedin schools(cf Khan-Cheemaet al., 1986,pp 13,16).

The fight to give religion a more central place within a common system of

education must seem like an uphill task for even the most optimistic Muslim, and

therefore the possibility of establishing Muslim voluntary-aided schools is being

examined by an increasing number of Muslim organisations. The aim of such schools

would not be to take another step towards isolationism, any more than existing Catholic

or Anglican voluntary schools isolate their own pupils from the broader society, but to

provide perhaps the only meansof allowing the Muslim community to preservewhat it

seesas the most essentialelement in its identity - the Islamic religion - while at the same time preparing Muslim children to play a full part in the broader British community (cf

Ashraf, 1988b; Halstead, 1986, p 15 ff).

For the sakeof brevity, I shall call the last two ways (as discussedabove) of

seekingto resolvethe conflict betweenthe needfor social integrationand cohesion on the one handand the right of minority groupsto preservetheir own cultureon the other, the liberal perspectiveand the Islamic perspective. Although they have both been describedas moderateapproaches, there is clearly strong oppositionbetween them. Thereis considerableevidence, for example,that manyMuslims would like to havethe

25 ChapterOne samechoice which is availableto Catholics,Anglicans, Jews and others,to sendtheir children to a county schoolor to a voluntary-aidedschool, but this is stronglyopposed on the liberal perspective. In responseto the Muslim request,the SwannCommittee hasurged a reconsiderationof the whole dual systemof education(DES, 1985,p 514), and this appearsto imply a belief that the systemis no longerjustifiable and shouldbe abandoned(cf Dummett, 1986, p 13). The argumentseems to be that there are no grounds under present legislation to refuse Muslims permission to establish such schools;but the existenceof Muslim voluntary-aidedschools may strongly militate against the kind of pluralist society envisagedby the committee, by encouraging socially divisive attitudesin minority groupsand racism in the majority; thereforethe best course of action is to reconsiderthe whole legislation. Haldane (1986, p 164), however, has drawn attention to the irony of this proposal as far as Muslims are concerned:

How could it satisfy the Muslim wishfor their own religious schools,to be

required to send their children to secular institutions? And what view

shouldtheyform of a societythat would respondto their expressionof deep attachmentto tradition by castingoff its own inheritance?

It is with this clash betweenliberal and Islamic approachesto the educationof

Muslim children in the U.K. that I am concernedin the presentthesis. From a liberal point of view, the crucial questionsare: how far, if at all, do minority groupslike the Muslims in the U.K. have the right to expect education to reinforce their own distinctive beliefs and values with regard to their own children? What 'concessions'

can justifiably be made to Muslim demands? From an Islamic point of view, the questionsare: is it in fact possiblein a secularsociety for children to be educatedin a way which enablesthem to remain loyal to their religion? Can sufficient common be found ground with non-Muslimsfor a workable commoneducation for all children

26 ChapterOne to be setup? And from the point of view of educationalpolicy, Lustgarten(1983, p 98) highlightsthe crucialquestion:

How within the overarchingpolitical unity, are conflicts engenderedby the co-existenceof diverse,and at timesopposed, cultural valuesand ways of life to be resolved?

****

Although the present thesis is being written from a broadly philosophical perspective,or perhapsbecause of this, it seemsimportant to startwith an examination of contemporarypractice in order to ensurethat the issuesunder discussionin the remainderof the thesisare actually centralones to the educationof Muslim children in the U.K. Thefirst stageof my researchtherefore consists of an empiricalinvestigation of the educationalprovision madeby one local authority for its Muslim community.

Bradford was chosenfor this casestudy for a variety of reasons.First, a clear majority

(probably over 85%) of its 'immigrant!children (i.e. thosewhose ethnic origin is other than from the U.K. ) is Muslim (CBMC, 1984a,p 52); thus any specialprovision for the educationof ethnic minority communitiesin Bradford is primarily designedwith Muslims in mind. Secondly,Bradford hasfor a numberof yearsenjoyed a reputation as a pace-setteramong local authoritiesin the field of racerelations and multi-cultural policies (Allen, 1970,pp 102,123; Spencer,1983; Morris et al., 1984;Pedley, 1986).

Thirdly, there are now a numberof schoolsin Bradford whereMuslim children form a largemajority. The intakeof childrento DrummondMiddle Schoolin September1984,

for example, was 125 Asians (the vast majority Muslims of Pakistani origin), two

indigenouswhites and one West Indian, and this is by no meansuntypical of certain

inner-city areasof Bradford. Fourthly, the problems arising from the presenceof a

substantialminority of Muslims in a British city havebeen focussed particularly clearly

in Bradford; the city's Muslims, for example,have played a major part in the protests

27 ChapterOne againstSalman Rushdie throughout 1989. Finally, the researchwas carried out at the time of the Honeyford affair, which, I have argued elsewhere (Halstead, 1988), highlights in a unique way someof the problemsof educationalprovision for Muslim children in the U.K. In onerespect the Muslims of Bradford areperhaps not typical of the broaderMuslim community in the U.K., for whereasin the U.K. as a whole there are large numbers of Muslims of Turkish Cypriot, Arab, Iranian, Bangladeshiand central African origin, the vast majority of those in Bradford originate either from Pakistanor the Mirpur district of Kashmir. Thus they are united not only by religion but also by ethnic origin. However,this atypicalityis not seenas a disadvantagefor the purposesof the presentthesis. For whereasethnic origin is a vital considerationin mattersrelating to the maintenanceof ethnicculture and language, it is not a particularly significant factor in consideringprinciples suchas the rights of minority communities andthe placeof religion in education.

The findings of this first stage of my research have already been published

(Halstead, 1988), and instead of repeating them in their entirety in the present thesis, I intend merely to make reference to them where appropriate to my argument, as indeed I have done in the present chapter. In Chapter Two of the thesis I shall look more closely

at contemporary educational provision for Muslim children in the U. K., with a view to

elucidating the principles on which it is based. The rhetoric of such educational provision is almost always couched in terms of 'meeting the special needs of Muslim

children, or of the Muslim community'. However, the way these 'special needs' have

been defined seemsto have changed within the last decade. Previously, they had been

defined by the non-Muslim majority in line with Western liberal value assumptions: I

shall argue that the mainly benign paternalism of such an approach may be viewed as a

kind of racism, in that it denies Muslims the freedom to determine for themselves the

pattern of their own and their children's lives. More recently, however, there has for emerged a greater willingness educational decision-makers to consult directly with Muslims. While minorities such as the political self-interest has no doubt sometimes

28 ChapterOne played a part in suchconsultation, it appearsthat what is emergingis a new belief that educational decisions should take account of the wishes and beliefs of minority communitiessuch as the Muslims. The emergingnotion of educationalaccountability to minority communitiesis itself problematic,however, and in ChapterThree I examine a number of possiblemodels of accountability,which I seekto apply to the Muslim situation. If it is acceptedthat educationaldecision-makers should be responsiveto the wishes of the Muslim community or of individual Muslim parents,this implies that Muslims have certainrights. But what is the basisof theserights? If it is claimedthat the basislies in fundamentalliberal values,do not thosesame values also presuppose a particular approachto the educationof children?Is it possibleto lay claim to the rights which liberalism acceptsas justifiable while rejectinga liberal view of education?How are liberals to respondto a minority group suchas the Muslims who do not fully share the fundamentalliberal values? How far do Muslim rights extendin this case,and how are the limits to thoserights determined?Are thereany circumstancesin which sucha

groupcan or shouldbe compelledto act againsttheir conscienceor fundamentalbeliefs?

Part Two seeksto examinethese questions from a liberal perspective. Chapter Four provides a brief sketchof fundamentalliberal values,and seeksto show how the notion of 'rights'fits into this framework. This then forms the basisfor a discussionin

ChapterFive of the rights of Muslim parentsto bring up their children in their own religion and in ChapterSix of the rights of the Muslim community to use educationto preserve,maintain and transmit its fundamentalbeliefs and values intact in a non-

Muslim society. In ChapterFive it is arguedthat on a liberal view parentscan claim

certain paternalisticrights in connectionwith their children, but that theserights are

constrainedby considerationsof the public interestand the needto promotethe personal

autonomyof children. The effect of theseconstraints is that althoughparents may be justified in bringing up children in an environment of religious belief, they are not

justified in seeking'to inculcatean uncritical acceptanceof any conceptionof the good life! (Ackerman, 1980,p 163). ChapterSix examinesa liberal view of pluralism. The

29 ChapterOne freedomof the groupis subjectto two major constraints:first, priority mustbe givento taking on the sharedvalues of the broadersociety, since without thesethe stability and

cohesionof society as a whole would be in dangerof fragmenting;and secondly,the freedomof the individual to chosehis or her own way of life must be respected.This hasprofound consequences for education: children needto be taughtthe sharedvalues of societyand to appreciatethe diversity of life-styles and backgroundswhich makeup

our society,but apartfrom that it is seenas preferableon a liberal view for children to learn to question their assumptions,to grapple with conflicting world views and to engagein rational debate,rather than passivelyaccepting the beliefs and valuesof the

group into which they happento be born. In so far as Islam is a fundamentalreligion

which values the acceptanceof a particular conceptionof the good more highly than autonomyor critical openness,it is clear that the constraintswhich liberalism placeson

Muslim rights areproblematic for Muslims.

Justhow large is the rift betweenthe liberalismand Islam canonly be appreciated

by a much closer examinationof the Islamic world view and this is provided in Part

Three. Chapter Seven outlines an Islamic framework of values and comparesand

contraststhis at severalkey points with a liberal framework. ChapterEight then applies the Islamic values to education and begins to sketch out a distinctively Islamic perspective on educational aims, teaching, school ethos and the curriculum, with religion at the very heartof the educationalexperience. The main liberal criticisms of

this approachto educationare considered: first, that to transmit religious beliefs in a way which doesnot leave them open to critical evaluationis a form of indoctrination;

and secondly,that to seekto confirm children in the culture into which they were born

involves a failure to respecttheir personaland moral autonomy. As a responseto the

liberal critique, the Islamic view of educationis re-expressedin terms that are more

accessibleto liberals,-and this suggeststhat somesort of dialoguebetween Muslims and

liberals is possiblein spite of their very different world views. ChapterNine attempts

to take the processof dialoguefurther, to seeif sufficient commonground can be found

30 ChapterOne on which to constructan agreedcommon system of education.The searchfor common groundbreaks down, however,over both the liberal insistencethat no communityhas the right to prejudgethe truth of their own claims on behalf of their children and that children must be encouragedto recognisethe essentiallychallengeable nature of all religious belief, and the Islamic insistencethat critical opennessis not an appropriate approachto fundamentalreligious beliefs and that any proposedcommon systemof education that is based either on secular principles or on religious neutrality is unacceptable.

After standingback from (or perhapsabove) questions of practical educational policy in PartsTwo and Three in order to obtain a birds eye view of the network of conceptsand principlesinvolved, we can now turn againin Part Four with an enriched

understandingof what is involved to questionsof educationalpolicy andpractice. 'Me

attemptto matchpolicy andpractice in a given situationto underlyingprinciples seems

to me to be an important part of the philosopher'stask, though there is an apparent reluctancein much contemporaryBritish philosophy of education (though not, for

example,in American,or indeedclassical, political philosophy:cf P White, 1983,p 6f) to dirty one's handswith empirical mattersby suggestingways of applying general principles to concretecontemporary problems. The problem I have been concerned with in this thesisis how educationalconflicts engenderedby the existenceof diverse, and sometimesopposed values and ways of life areto be resolved. Thereis a dilemma for liberals if they are unable to persuade Muslims to share their educational

convictions: either they can insist on resolving conflicts with their own framework or

premises (which would be tantamount to imposing an alien set of values on an

unwilling minority); or they can tolerate the co-existenceof a version of education

which is in conflict at crucial pointswith the liberal version. I arguein ChapterTen that

thereare compelling reasons, both in principle and in practice,why liberalsmust opt for

the latter alternative.The liberal task thereforebecomes one of ensuringthat if Muslims

are to be allowed a placeon the religious sideof the dual systemof education,this does

31 ChapterOne not pavethe way towardsthe isolationof the Muslim community. The thesisconcludes with severalsuggestions of ways in which the dangerof Muslim isolationismmay be avoided; the most important of these is greater educational co-operation between Muslims and Christians.

It is hopedthat two underlying structureswill be recognisedin the presentthesis. The first is that eachof the four parts of the thesisexplores a separateissue or set of relatedissues and in seekingto resolveone particularquestion ends up raising a further set of questionsand thus leadingon to the next part. The secondrefers to the structure of the thesisas a whole. It is written in the belief that an investigationof the specific, practicalproblems of educationalprovision for Muslims in the U.K. will lead us, pretty quickly and directly, to questionsof conceptand fundamentalphilosophical principles,

and that converselythe careful examinationand analysisof the underlying issueswill point the way, fairly unambiguously,to certain kinds of practical action. Indeed, as will soonbecome apparent, this statementhas become an overall plan for the thesis.

32 CHAPTER TWO

EDUCATION FOR MUSLIM CHILDREN IN THE U. K. CONTEMPORARY PRACTICE

Ile presentchapter is basedon the findings of my researchinto the provision of one local educationauthority - Brafford - for its Muslim pupils. The most immediately striking feature of the situation is its complexity. First, Muslim pupils may have a range of different educational needs and problems resulting, for example, from experiencesof racism,conflicting cultural demandsor a poor graspof English. Which particular needs are closest to their experience may vary from pupil to pupil.

Sometimesone needis highlightedin the mediaor in educationalresearch, sometimes another. The situationis mademore difficult by the necessityfor policy to take account of fundamentalclashes of principle, asbetween the right of childrennot to be trappedin a restrictingculture and the right of parentsat leastto ensuresome degree of continuity between what their children learn at home and what they learn at school. These difficulties areclearly opento a variety of possiblesolutions, and the situationis further complicated by the not uncommon changesof policy on the part of the Bradford Council and the significant opposition to someof thesepolicies from sectionsof the teachingprofession. On top of this comesthe activity of a large number of pressure groupsamong the city's Muslims, often pulling in different directions and sometimes making conflicting demands. The intervention of white activists adds still further complications,either by seekingto win the Muslims to their particular cause(as in the case of Workers Against Racism; see Halstead, 1988, pp 30,125), or by totally opposing a provision decidedon by the Council (as in the caseof the opposition of animal rights activists to the provision of halal meat in schools: seeAppendix One).

The net result is a situation of such complexity that it is easyto get boggeddown in detail or to end up succumbingto bias or preconceptionsin the representationof events

33 ChapterTwo and policies. What is neededis someway of accuratelymapping out the issuesto give direction to our thinking and to prevent us from wandering aimlessly in this largely unchartedjungle.

I have attemptedto provide this initial analysisin threestages. The first involves the provision of a chronologyof all the major eventsin Bradford in the last twenty-five years relating to the city's educational provision for Muslims and other ethnic minorities. The secondis an analysisof the specific educationaldemands made by Muslims in Bradford and the detailedand varying policies agreedby the local authority in responseto thosedemands. The third seeksto draw out the principles underlying

Bradford'sdeveloping policies towardsits Muslim community.

The first stage, consisting of a chronological survey of all the main events involving the educationof Muslims in Bradford and Council policies, togetherwith sociologicaland other surveysand full details of the Honeyford affair, is basedon as many of the available printed sources as possible: Council publications and unpublisheddocuments, local and nationalnewspaper articles, educational research and other reports on the situation in Bradford publishedin books andjournals, reports by headteachers,educational advisersand the city's Director of Education, and policy statementsand pressreleases from ethnic minority and other pressuregroups. This strong emphasis on documentary evidence has been balanced by the personal experienceof teachingin Bradford for twelve yearsduring the period underdiscussion, and by interviews and informal conversationswith many of the personalitiesinvolved.

This first stageprovides the raw data neededfor stagestwo and three, but since the chronology is not itself directly relevant to the developing argumentin the present thesis,I have not included it here. It has,however, alreadybeen published elsewhere (Halstead,1988, pp 231-284),with a full list of sourcesand references.

34 ChapterTwo

The second stage is an attempt to analyse the main educationaldemands of Muslims in Bradford. On the basisof the chronology,ten issueshave beenidentified as the major concernsof the Muslim communityin the last twenty years: the teaching of Islam in state schools;the retention of single-sexschooling; the abandonmentof mono-cultural education; the cessationof the policy of dispersal; the provision of mother-tongueteaching; permission for extendedtrips to the Indian sub-continent;the development of anti-racism policies in education; the establishment of Muslim voluntary-aidedschools; the provisionof hatal meatin schools;and the removalof Ray Honeyford from the headshipof Drummond Middle School. Iliese ten demandsare

describedin more detail in Appendix One. In eachcase a brief note is providedon the

argumentsfor and againstthe Muslims' demands,and the LEA responseand ensuing

problemsare also described.

-The final stagemoves from analysisto interpretationof data.It seeksto bring to light underlyingpatterns and trendsin educationalprovision for Muslim childrenand to showwhat fundamentalvalues, beliefs andprinciples underpin LEA policies. It is only

with this third stagethat the presentchapter is concerned. There appearto be two distinct phasesin Bradford's educationalprovision for Muslim children. I shall call them the IntegrationistPhase (which was dominant,historically, from the early 1960s to about 1981) and the Accommodationist Place (which has dominated policy in

Bradford sinceabout 1981), andeach will now be examinedin turn.

****

Bradford'spolicies in the Integrationist Phaseappear to have beenbased on the

principle of actingin the public interest. What was perceivedto be the primary interest

sharedby every member of the public equally was the peaceful co-existenceof the broader various groups that made up the society in Bradford - in other words, the avoidanceof racial and cultural tensions.This was to take priority over considerations

35 ChapterTwo such as what might be of benefit to individuals as individuals or as membersof minority groups. In the IntegrationistPhase it was taken for grantedthat the bestway to achievewhat was in the public interest (i. e. peacefulco-existence) was throughthe integration of minority groups such as the Muslims into the social, political and economiclife of the broadercommunity. Cultural and religious differenceswere not ignored,but neither were they encouraged;they were toleratedin general(even to the extent of allowing instruction in Islam to be carried on in schools)so long as they did not conflict with the goal of socialintegration.

It would be untrueto claim however,that local authority policy in this phasewas as fully assimilationist,or as oppressivein intention,as it is sometimesportrayed. The policy of dispersingethnic minority pupils throughoutthe city's schoolsto ensurethat no schoolhad more than 33% of immigrant children (commonlyknown as'bussing'), which was introducedin 1964 in accordancewith DES guidelines,is a casein point (seeAppendix One). In Bradford's caseat least, it seemshardly fair to describethe policy as a measureintended'to disrupt the educationof indigenouschildren as little as possible',as the Swann Report (DES, 1985,p 195-6) seemsto suggest. Indeed,had such beenthe intention it could have beenachieved more effectively by allowing the uncheckedgrowth of 'ghetto schools',which did indeedgrow quickly once the policy was phasedout in 1980; if that had happened,indigenous parents would not have found their own children beingrefused places at local schoolsin order to makeway for

Muslims and other ethnic minority children who were being bussedin. The primary justification for'bussine was in termsof the public interest: throughincreased contact, pupils of different cultureswould cometo understandeach other betterand learn mutual tolerance;and if they could learn to live in harmonyin school,this might carry through to adult life. What was wrong with'bussine was not the intention which lay behindit

(to benefit the whole communityby promotingmutual understandingand toleranceand to benefit minority children by giving them the best possible introduction to British culture and the English language), but the methods used (which involved

36 ChapterTwo discrimination: only minority children were 'bussed') and, more fundamentally, the

way the benefits accruing from the policy were conceived. Behind the talk of mutual

understanding and tolerance lay a serious imbalance of power. Virtually all the cultural

adaptationsand transformations were expected from the side of the minority groups like the Muslims.

The goal of social integration is ultimately related to the values of fairnessand equality, and the equal treatmentof all people,irrespective of race,colour or religion, becameone of the directingprinciples of Bradfords educationalpolicy. But equalityof

treatmentwas understoodin the Integrationist Phaseto mean treating all pupils the

same;the only justification for different treatmentwas to facilitate identical treatment

later in the pupils' schoolcareer. This was the rationalebehind the establishmentof the

Immigrant LanguageCentres in Bradford in 1965,to help minority pupils to gain the

proficiency they neededif they were to competelater in the stateschools on an equal footing with indigenouschildren.

The caseof Abdullah Patel, which has alreadybeen mentioned in ChapterOne,

providesa goodillustration of the way the principle of equalityof treatmentwas applied in the Integrationist Phase(cf Halstead, 1988, p 47-8). Patel objected on religious grounds to the placementof his daughterin one of Bradford's co-educationalupper schools, and requestedtransfer to a girls' school. The local authority refused, a

subsequentappeal to Mrs Thatcher at the DES was turned down, and when Patel insisted on keeping her at home rather than send her to a mixed school, he was put

under strongpressure to conform, being servedwith an attendanceorder and takento court by the local authority. What this caseillustrates is that in the IntegrationistPhase

the local authoritywas not preparedto makeexceptions in generaleducational policy on cultural or religious grounds. To makean exceptionfor parentssuch as Patelwould be to underminedoubly the Council's policy of treating all pupils the same: he wanted Muslims to be treateddifferently from non-Muslims,and girls differently from boys. If

37 ChapterTwo there were sound educationalreasons for a policy such as co-educationin the first place, however, and if the policy had been agreedby the democraticdecision of the Council, then it was consideredjustifiable to compel parentsto conform. Indeed,the

Council could defend such compulsionin terms of protecting the rights of individual children to equality of treatment,as well as in terms of the promotion of the public interest.

In addition to the principle of acting in the public interest and the principle of

treatingall pupils equally,there was a third main principle behindeducational policy for

children from minority groups such as the Muslims in the IntegrationistPhase. This

was the principle of 'meeting the special needs'of minority children. Many of the

changesthat were madein educationalprovision in Bradford to take into accountthe

growing number of ethnic minority school children were financed under Section 11

provisions,which providedgrants from centralgovernment under the termsof the 1966 Local GovernmentAct to meet(currently) 75% of the costsof providing for the'special needsof immigrants' (cf Willey, 1984,pp 93-5; Troyna and Williams, 1986,pp 66f,

108f, 118). It has been frequently pointed out, however (for example by Dearden,

1966, pp 14-18; Gribble 1969, pp 80-86; Hirst and Peters, 1970, pp 32-36), that behind any statementof needs lie certain assumptionsabout what is valuable or desirable. For to needsomething implies not only that one has not got that thing, but

that to obtain it would be to achievesomething that is regardedas desirable. It is thus appropriate,as Dearden(1968, p 16) points out, 'to look behind statementsof needsto

the values that are guiding them, for it is here that the issue substantiallylies'. What

appearsto be the casein the IntegrationistPhase is that the needs(and the 'problems')

of ethnic minority children were being defined by the indigenousmajority. The value

systemon which educationaldecisions and judgements were basedwas often alien to the minority groupsaffected by the decisions.

38 ChapterTwo

I have suggestedelsewhere (Halstead, 1988, pp 151 ff) that the policies of the Integrationist Phase,though not intentionally oppressive,may be viewed as racist in somesense. In fact, two different typesof racism may be distinguished,which I have calledPaternalistic Racism and Colour-BlindRacism. PaternalisticRacism refers to the processwhereby the freedomof minority groups,whether racial or religious,is defined or restrictedby generallywell-intentioned regulations that aredrawn up by the majority. It is basedon the assumptionthat the white majority hasthe right to interferein the lives

of minorities for their own good and the power to define that good. As Kirp (1979,p

64) points out,

In all the discussionsover the proper place of race in educationalpolicy,

non-white voices have seldombeen heard. The governmentundertook to act in the best interests of a silent constituency. It actedfor the racial

minoritiesrather thanwith them,and in that sensewas truly paternalistic.

More recently,a minority groupleader in Bradfordhas commented:

The current race relationspolicy appearsto be basedon the assu"Ttion that

whitepeoplehave a natural right to setthe agendafor blackpeople. Suchan assumption has more in common with the perpetuation of colonial relationshipsthan the creationof racial harmony. (CourtneyHay, quotedin Yorkshire Post, 13 June 1987).

PaternalisticRacism can be seen,for example,in the practice of 'bussing'black

children (but not white) to ensurea racial mix in local authority schools,and in some forms of positive discriminationand tokenism,especially where these are intendedas a

way of placating agitators, defusing protect and maintaining tolerance and social

stability without tackling the underlying injusticesexperienced by minority groups(cf

Nixon, 1985,p3l). It may often be benign,as in the establishmentof speciallanguage

39 ChapterTwo centres for ethnic minorities, and may actually bring considerable advantagesto minority groups. Whetheror not the paternalismhas a harmful outcome,however, and whether or not it is consciously used by the white majority to reinforce their own privilege, PaternalisticRacism can be viewed as oppressiveof racial and religious minorities in two ways: it deniesthem the freedom to determinefor themselvesthe patternof their own future lives; and it implies (sometimesin a rather subtleway) the superiority of the white people who make the decisions. In sociological terms, PaternalisticRacism is thusprincipally concernedwith socialcontrol (cf Dhondy, 1978; Mullard, 1980,p 18).

Colour-Blind Racism, which grows out of the refusal to acknowledgerelevant differencesbetween races, focusses primarily on raceand colour ratherthan on religion andculture, but the principle is the samein both cases,as the exampleof AbdullahPatel which was mentionedabove shows. Evidencegathered for the SwannReport shows that many peoplebelieve that recognisingdifferences between racial groupsis racially divisive and may 'constitute a major obstacleto creating a harmoniousmulti-racial society' (DES, 1985, p 26). On these grounds, official policy in the U.K. (and in

America: cf Glazer, 1983, p 126f) has sometimesself-consciously played down the significanceof race. In 1973,the DES discontinuedthe practiceof gatheringstatistics on pupils' ethnic or racial origins. Willey (1984, p 95 f) examinesthe argumentsfor and againstthis practice. For similar reasons,many teachershave deliberatelysought to make no distinction betweenblack and white pupils, but rather to treat them all equally (cf Little and Willey, 1983). However,the SwannReport concludesthat such 'colour-blindness'is

potentially just as negativeas a straighiforward rejection ofpeople with a different skin colour since both typesof attitude seekto deny the validity of an importantaspect of a person'sidentity.

(DES, 1985,pp 26-7).

40 ChapterTwo

The problem may go further, since treating racial groups equally without distinction is usually understood as treating them the same, and treating them the same usually implies treating them in accordance with assumptions based on accumulated white experience. In this sense, equal treatment can become a vehicle for white

domination. 'Colour-blindness' thus not only leads to undesirable outcomes (the

disadvantagingof black people by marginalising their distinctive needs,experiences and

identity), but may also involve racial injustice. It is not a new idea (indeed, it can be

traced back to Aristotle) that there can be injustice in treating people the same when in

relevant respects they are different, just as much as there can be in treating them

differently when in relevant respects they are the same. Recently, however, empirical

research by feminists has illustrated the effects of this principle: in equal opportunity

situations such as co-education, males are generally able to dominate becausethe terms

in which the initial situation is defined are male-oriented and take little account of

relevant differences between males and females (cf Spender and Sarah, 1980; Deem,

1984; Mahoney, 1985). In the same way, when a'colour-blind' approach is adopted to

any social policy in this country, white people are usually able to dominate becausethe

common experiences are defined in terms which white people can more easily relate to

than blacks and which tend to bolster the white self-image at the expense of the black.

Thus even if the books which all the children at a school are expected to study are

chosen for purely educational reasons, the fact that they all happen to be written by

white people is likely to convey the hidden messagethat white people are cleverer or

that what they write is more significant - the more so if similar messagesare picked up

in other school subjects and activities. As well as the danger of damaging the self-

concept of ethnic minorities through such hidden messages,the'colour-blind approach

may deny the relevance of the distinctive experiences of minority groups, such as the

fact that they are on the receiving end of racial abuse and harrassment. 'Colour-

blindness' falls down becauseit is based on an idealistic principle (that all people are

equal), which may be valid sub specie aeternitatis but which fails to take account of the

contingent facts of racial inequality and disadvantagein our present society.

41 ChapterTwo

Undoubtedlyone of the factorswhich led to the phasingout of integrationismin favour of accommodationismwas the growing realisation that cultural domination, howeverunintentional, was undesirableand unjust.

****

What distinguishes the Accommodationist Phase of Bradford's educational provisions for its minority communities is a much greater willingness to take the religious and cultural valuesand beliefsof communitiessuch as the Muslims seriously. A new conceptof integrationemerged in Bradford'sRace Relations Policy Statementof

1981,which did notassume a supremacyof one culture into which others would be easily assimilated',but which aimedinstead at the creationof 'a societyin which there is a co-operativeand peacefulliving togetherbased on mutual respectfor differences'. The Council was now committed to ensuring that 'so far as is compatible with individual needs,the provision of serviceswill at all times respectthe strength and variety of eachcommunity's cultural values. The proviso containedin the phrase'so far as is compatiblewith individual needs'once again begs the questionof who is to adjudicatethese needs and on what basisof values; this will be discussedmore fully shortly. But what is significant here is that Bradford'spolicies had ceasedto be based on the needto promote the public interestas directly as possible,and insteadmerely acknowledgedthe necessityto avoid things that were against the public interest. This openedthe way for policies to developbased on the freedomof individuals and groups to pursuetheir own good with like-minded people,so long as they respectedthe rights of othersto do likewise. A letter distributedto all Council employeesin 1981pointed out that 'we no longer expectminority communitiesto integrateand changetheir ways to suit us', and that'every sectionof the community has an equal right to maintain its own identity, culture, language,religion and customs'.

42 ChapterTwo

The guidelinesissued by Bradford Council in 1982 regarding the educationof pupils from ethnic minority groups were basedon two fundamentalbeliefs, both of

which had beenset out in the policy statementon racerelations the previousyear. The first was that all sectionsof the city's populationhad an equalright to the maintenance of their distinctiveidentities and loyalties of culture,language, religion andcustom, and that so far as was compatible with individual needs, the authority's provision of servicesshould respectthe strengthand variety of each group!s cultural values. The secondwas that all children in Bradford were entitled to equality of treatment,equality

of opportunity and equality of servicesand should be offered a sharededucational

experience.Together, these beliefs gaverise to the following statementof the aims of

educationin Bradford:

1. To seekways of preparing all children and young peoplefor life in a

multi-cultural society.

2. to counter racism and racist attitudes, and the inequalities and

discriminationwhich results(sic)from them.

3. To build on and developthe strengthsof cultural and linguistic diversity.

4. to respondsensitively to the specialneeds of minority groups.

The Authority recognisesthe organisational difficulties of achieving these

aims,while at the sametime respondingto the individual needsof children,

and safeguardingthe rights ofparents under the termsof the 1944Education

Act. Nevertheless,it is convincedthat, with sensitivity and a sympathetic

understandingof cultural and religious issues,the educational needsof ethnic minority children can be met within the one educationalsystem and within theframeworkof a commonschool curriculum. (City of BradfordLocal AdministrativeMemorandum (LAM) No. 2/82).

43 ChapterTwo

No doubt many causescontnbuted to this changein policy. There had beencivil disturbancesin Toxteth, Bristol, Brixton and Southall in the summer of 1981 (cf

Jacobs, 1986, ch 6; Cashmoreand Troyna, 1983, p 172 ff) and in Bradford itself twelve youthswere arrestedin July 1981after the discoveryof a crateof petrol bombs they had made. Complaints against un-Islamic practicesin schools,such as mixed swimming, were becomingincreasingly vociferous, and Muslim demands,especially for single-sexeducation for Muslim girls, were better publicised. Powerful pressures groupslike the Commissionfor Racial Equality were beginningto have an impact on policy. Not least, the protracted trial of the Bradford Twelve (which endedin the acquittal of all the defendants),brought to light many of the legitimate grievancesand constantfears of the ethnic minority groups in Bradford (cf A Wilson, 1981,1982; Pierce,1982; Leeds Other Paper (LOP), 1982).

What is more difficult to assessis how much political opportunism there was in the new policies. It is true that the voting power of the minority groups was now sufficiently large to have an impact on local elections, particularly since Bradford was a hung Council. Morris et al (1984) argue that the inclusion of racism on the education policy agendaby some Conservative councillors was a clear attempt to attract the black vote, and quote an unnamed Conservative councillor:

Any political party that tells you that it's doing thingsfor purely altruistic

reasonsis either a fool or a liar. Clearly both political parties or three

political parties are looking to take a chunk of the black and Asian vote.

Speakingas a Conservative,I am realistic in realising that at themoment my party is not receivinga great numberofAsian votes.

Selbourne(1985) similarly describesthe 'many layers of hyprocrisy' which lay

behindthe'public facadeof local Labours righteouscrusade for mutual respectamong

44 ChapterTwo the West Riding's races'. On the other hand,there is also evidenceto suggestthat the local political parties were not merely involved in a scramblefor the ethnic minority vote. Ile racerelations policy statementhad all-party support,and suchdisagreements as therewere over specificprovisions (such as whetherhalal meat shouldbe provided in schools)were not alongparty lines. Neither is thereany evidenceto suggestthat the policies were motivatedby the political radicalismwhich was apparent,for example,in someLondon boroughs. It may well be that the developmentof the new policieshad as much to do with a genuinedesire to act in justice and fairnessto minority groupsas with political manoeuvrings.

Whateverconsiderations lay behind them, however,the policies were generally presentedto the public as a practical responseto a practical situation. PeterGilmour, the ConservativeChairman of Bradford'sEducational Services Committee at the time the policieswere approved,drew attentionto their pragmatism:

They'rejust realistic. One in six of our children comefrom Asianfamilies.

By the turn of the century it will be one in three. The parents are ratepayers.

It is the sinple duty of the Council to vy to satisfy their needs. (quotedin Cross, 1984).

The policy changesushered in as a result of the new emphasison respectfor the cultures of minority groups fall into two main categories. The first is positive, involving the incorporationof elementsfrom minority cultures,particularly Islam, into

the curriculumof the commonschool, in an attemptto broadenand enrich it andmake it

more acceptableto the minority communities, particularly the Muslims, by taking

accountof their beliefs and values. For example,a new multi-faith RE syllabuswas published in June 1983 after extensive consultation between Muslims, Christians,

Jews,11indus and Sikhs. It alsoincludes positive attemptsto encourageracial tolerance

understandingand respect through a variety of anti-racistpolicies and statements.Since

45 ChapterTwo

1983, there has also been a consciousdrive to appoint more school governorsfrom ethnicminorities. The secondcategory involves an increasednumber of concessionsto the Muslim community,such as the retentionof the two remainingsingle-sex schools in spite of the previously announcedintention to go fully co-educational;the provisionof halal meat,now extendedto all schoolswhere there are more than ten Muslim children; the provision for separatePE and swimming lessonsfor boys and girls; permissionfor

Muslim girls to wear a schooluniform and sportskit in keepingwith Islamic notionsof modesty and decency; the teaching of minority languagessuch as Urdu as official school subjects;permission to withdraw from assemblies,RE and sex education;and perriiissionto attendFriday prayersled by an Imam in or out of schooland to be absent from school on religious festivals. The guidelinesprovided by Bradford Council in 1982in fact grantedethnic minority parentsmore rights than they had ever had before, but it is worth noting that the roots of both categoriesof changemay be tracedback clearly to the Integrationist Phase: the first major concessiongranted to a minority groupwas the grantingof permissionin 1972for Muslim childrento receiveinstruction in their own faith in secondaryschools; and even earlier, in 1970,a commmitteewas setup to reviseBradfords RE syllabus,to ensurethat it reflectedthe variety of faiths in the city. The changeof direction from the Integrationistto the AcommodationistPhase was thus perhapsnot so abruptas I haveimplied.

The Accommodationist Phase involves a recognition of the difficulty of developing an educationalpolicy basedsolely on the public interest in a pluralistic societywhere different groupseach have their own conceptof what sort of educationis in the best interestsof the child. The aim is to avoid putting minority children into

situations where they are required to act in conflict with their parents' beliefs and values, and to presenta positive image of their faith and culture to all children in the

district. It is based on the hope of retaining the commitment of the minority

communitiesto the principle of commonschooling and the continuedacceptance of the

46 ChapterTwo right of the local authorityto makefinal decisionson educationalmatters. Sucha policy inevitably makes demandson the indigenouspopulation, however; they might find traditional modem languageoptions in schoolsreduced in order to make room for

Urdu, or the traditional emphasison Christianity in RE reducedto makeroom for the study of Islam, Hinduism and Sikhism. In order to overcome possible tensions resulting from thesechanges, the local authority hasbegun to put lessemphasis on the mere toleration of cultural differences and more on the need to welcome them as culturally enriching. The problem here, of course,is that the celebrationof diversity sits rather uneasilywith commitmentto a particular set of cultural or religious values and beliefs. Accommodationism,as the Swann Relipri has shown, requires that a commitmentto fundamentalshared values, including the valueof pluralism,should take priority over a commitmentto specificreligions or culturalvalues; and sucha schemeof priorities is not likely to commenditself to Muslims or other minority groups. There are alsothose among the indigenouspopulation who doubtthat sucha policy can work, or is even desirable, and in expressingsuch doubts, Honeyford seemsto have had considerablepopular support (see Appendix One).

The rhetoric used to persuadepeople of the importance of the educational provisionsintroduced during the AccommodationistPhase still involves the invocation

of the principle of 'meetingthe specialneeds of ethnic minorities'. Councillor Ajeeb, Bradford'sfirst Muslim Lord Mayor, is quotedas saying:

What we want is accommodationof our cultural needs,expecially in the educationalsystem.

(Selboume,1984, p 136).

And the useof the term'needs!by the Chairmanof the EducationalServices Committee

and in the Local Administrative MemorandumNo. 2/82 has alreadybeen noted. But the 'needs' are no longer defined, as they were in the Integrationist Phase

47 ChapterTwo by the indigenousmajority on the basis of values that are not sharedby the minority groups. On the contrary,there is very considerableevidence that in assessingthe needs of the minority groups, direct accountis now being taken of their wishes and of the values that underpin thosewishes. This is seenin three ways: first, the demandsof minority groups such as the Muslims are being taken seriously, and concessionsare beingmade in responseto thosedemands, even in the faceof the oppositionof sections of the indigenousmajority to the demands.Thus it was agreedto provide hatal meatfor schooldinners for Muslims (i. e. meat slaughteredin accordancewith Islamic law), in spite of strongopposition from local animal rights campaigners.Secondly, there is a greaterwillingness to consult directly with Muslims in the preparationof policy: this can be seenin the way the new RE syllabus was developed. Thirdly, Muslims are increasingly being encouragedto participate directly in the processof educational decision-making;this resultsin particularfrom the appointmentof moreethnic minority teachers and school governors, particularly in inner-city schools (though such appointmentsare not being madeas quickly asmany Muslims would like: cf Halstead, 1988,p 53).

It must be acknowledgedthat to talk of cultural concessionsto minority groups doesitself involve the adoptionof a cultural (and somewould say a racist) stance. For what is seenby the indigenouspopulation as a cultural concessionto Muslims (for example,the provision of halal meat in schools)may be seenby Muslims as no more than ceasingto demanda cultural concessionfrom them (i. e. forcing their children to eat only vegetarian dishes at school dinners). This merely draws attention to the difficulty of establishing cultural norms in a multi-cultural context. But in acknowledgingthe right of minority groups such as the Muslims to pursuetheir own

good, so long as this does not conflict with the public interest or the rights of others, and in providing for theserights to be put into practice,the local authority seemsto be acknowledgingsome sort of accountabilityto the Muslim community.

48 ChapterTwo

The exact nature of this developing nation of accountability to the Muslim community, however, is by no means clear. Peter Gilmour, in the speechquoted earlierin the presentchapter, seems to seethe accountabilityin termsof a recognitionof the rights of Muslim children and parentsas consumers. Elsewhere,however, it is interpretedas strictly legal accountability. It is claimed in the Local Administrative Memorandum No. 2/82, for example, that the new policies are mainly merely a clarification of existing legal rights, such as the right of parents to withdraw their children from worship and RE lessons,as allowed in the 1944Education Act. This is not the whole truth, however,for in somecases the legal position hasdeliberately been left unclarified (as in the question of extendedvisits to the Indian sub-continentby Muslim children); in others,the law has not always beenenforced (as in the caseof breachesof planning regulations by Muslim supplementaryschools, or the Muslim practice of keeping their daughtersat home in order to protect them from un-Islamic influences);while in othersthe Council appearsto havemade a moraljudgement when facedwith conflicting rights (for example,when Muslim demandsfor the provision of

halal meat in schoolswere strongly opposedby animal rights campaigners,or when

RacismAwareness Training courseswere institutedwith the overt aim of changingthe

attitudes of Council employees). Clearly, moral considerations tempered the interpretationof legal rights in the Council'sdecisions about educational provision for

Muslim children. The involvement of Muslims directly in the processof educational

decision-makingadds yet anotherdimension to the developingnotion of moral andlegal accountability.

The Honeyford affair, which is discussedbriefly in sectionten of Appendix One

and more fully in Halstead(1988), highlights in a uniqueway someof the problemsof

educationalprovision for the Muslim community and someof the difficulties with the

notion of accountability to a minority community such as the Muslims. It raises

questionssuch as: what happenswhen the beliefs and aspirationsof a minority group

are not compatible with those of the broader community? To which group is a

49 ChapterTwo headteacherprimarily responsible?More fundamentally,what valuesshould a school promote in a multi-cultural society? Is it a school'sbusiness in any way to preserve minority cultures? Honeyford's controversial articles (1982b, 1983a, 1983b, 1984), which led to the protractedcampaign against him, seemto be attemptingto criticisenot only the culturesof minority groupsin the U.K. and the multi-cultural and anti-racist policies developedin Bradford and elsewhere,but also the idea that the LEA should assumeso much responsibility for what goeson in schools. Implicit in the notion of moral and legal accountability which lies behind the LEA policies of the AccommodationistPhase is the idea that headteachersare merely employees paid to put

LEA policy into practice and that they should do little off their own initiative. Peter

Gilmour, Chairmanof Bradford'sEducational Services Commitee, is quotedas saying, 'We expectour headsto comply'Me Times EducationalSupplement. 16 March 1984, p 9), while Mike Whittaker, the Council's Policies DevelopmentOfficer, commented,

'We're simply not allowing teachersto run their schools as they see fif (quoted in

Selbourne,1987, p 105). Honeyford, however, argues- and he has the weight of a good deal of support from liberal educationaltheory - that the head should have a substantialdegree of autonomyin the running of the school, and that accountability consistsof professionalresponsibility, plus a willingness to offer an accountof one's actionswhen this is requested,for example,by the schoolgovernors. In his guide for probationaryteachers, Honeyford writes,

An aspect of the job which is immenselyprized by teachers is that of

professionalautonomy. There is afeeling of independenceand individuality

for the teacher in an English classroomwhich few vocations can match.

Teachersare particularly flerce when it comesto what they should teach, how theyshould operate, and who shouldevaluate their performance.

(1982a,p158).

50 ChapterTwo

If we flesh out his views a little, we find that he stressesa relationshipof trust between the various partiesinvolved in the educationalexperience, rather than one of compulsion;he stressesthe professionaljudgement of the individual teacher,rather than the following of externally imposedrules; he stressesthe commonneeds and rights of all children (including the right to be treatedas an individual), rather than the rights and needsof particular groups; and he stressesthe autonomy of teachers,not their statusas employees.In brief, his view of accountabilityis not very different from that widely supportedby many liberal educationalistsand taken for granted by a large sectionof the teachingprofession. In ChapterThree I arguethat althoughthis notion of professionalaccountability works well under a systemof Integrationism,it appearsto break down under a systemof Accommodationism,for a variety of reasons. On the one hand, a headteachercan easily get caught up in clashesbetween rival pressure groups as they battle to establish a pecking order of influence on local authority decisions. On the other hand, the professionalaccountability model leavesthe door open for unconsciouscultural bias, for all too often we find that the autonomous decisionsof headteachersturn out to be'our judgementsas to the worth of elementsof their culture (Harris, 1982a,p 227). Nfinority groupscannot take it for grantedthat the decisionsand value judgements which form part of the everydayduties of the head

of a commonschool will be in harmonywith their own distinctive values. If minority groups are to have confidencein the decisions,it is clear that an agreedstructure of

rules andvalues is needed,together with somesystem of calling the decision-makersto

accountif the rules are not adheredto. In the protestsagainst Honeyfords articles, anotherapproach to accountabilityemerged that was more in line with this idea that a

headcan be called to accountby parentsand the local community. Indeed,it was not

only Honeyford himself who was called to accountfor expressingopinions that were

considered divisive, insulting and provocative and for behaving in what some considereda professionally irresponsiblemanner; the Council and the Directorateof

EducationalServices were alsocalled to accountfor failing to takeprompt actionagainst a head accusedof directly contravening the spirit of the Council's policies on race

51 ChapterTwo relationsand multi-cultural education.In the end it was direct actionby the parentsand othermembers of the mainly Muslim local communityin makingthe smoothrunning of Honeyfords schoolimpossible, that forced the Council and Honeyford,irrespective of

the rights andwrongs of the case,to agreeon a packagewhich took him awayfrom the

schoolfor good.

One of the important issues to come out of the Honeyford affair is thus the

questionto what extent the providersof educationshould be responsiveto the wishes

of parentsand the local community, especiallywhen thosewishes are in conflict with

either the wishes of the broader community or with policies agreedby democratic

procedures,rational debateor professional expertise. In Honeyfords case,he was trapped between conflicting educational demands and expectations, and found it

impossibleto pleaseall the partiesat the sametime. The DrummondParents' Action

Committeewhich was set up to campaignfor Honeyford'sdismissal never claimedto

representthe views of the broader community; indeed, the 600-signaturepetition it

gatheredlooked very weak comparedto the 23,000 signaturescollected in supportof in Honeyford. But what it did claim to represent- and the evidence support of the

claim is very strong - was the views of the majority of parentsand membersof the community immediately surrounding Honeyford's school (most of them Muslims). And on that basisit claimedthe right not only to a sayin decisionsaffecting the school, but to an effectiveveto of decisionsit did not like.

The conceptof accountabilitythat emergeshere thus focussesprimarily on the

wishes of the parentsand local community. In contrastto the notion of professional accountability that is implicit in Honeyford's writings, it stressesthe contractual accountabilityof a headto the LEA, and the accountabilityof both to parentsand the local community,who may in extremecases take mattersinto their own handsdirectly. In contrastto the notion of moral and legal accountabilitythat is reflectedin Bradford's policiesin the AccornmodationistPhase, on the otherhand, it deniesthat representatives

52 ChapterTwo of the broadercommunity should have the final sayin mattersaffecting the educationof minority communities. It is no longer enoughfor the authoritiesto take account of wishes and beliefs of minority communities; now they are liable to be called to account if they contravenethese wishes.

The Honeyford affair appearsto be the first Tealeruption that hasbeen brought to public attentionof the problemsof educationalprovision for the Muslim community, and it draws attentionto two crucial underlyingissues: the questionof minority rights and the question of shared values. The question of minority rights is raised in considering whether a minority community has the right in any circumstancesto demand the dismissal of a head who has the support of the broader community, whethera minority communityhas the right to demandconcessions some of which may be consideredridiculous by the majority, whether a minority has the right to demand

that the educationof its young shouldproceed along different lines from thoseapproved by the majority, and so on. Behind thesespecific issueslie more generalquestions

aboutthe basison which the Tightsof minoritiesin a democraticsystem are determined,

what the rights actually are and how far they extend,what principles shoulddetermine

the resolution of clashes between the majority and the minority, and how these principlesshould be appliedin the specificcase of the educationaldemands of Muslims in the U.K. The questionof sharedvalues is raisedbecause unless there is a common

framework of values sharedby all the groups that make up our present-daysociety,

thenthe attemptto provide ac ornmoneducational experience for all pupils seemscertain

to entail to a greateror lessextent the imposition of the valuesof one group on another.

If there is no common framework of sharedvalues, then there is no room for teacher

autonomy,or indeedfor the autonomyof the LEA, for neitherwould provide sufficient

guaranteethat pupils were not beinginfluenced against their parents'valuesand beliefs.

If there is no common framework of sharedvalues, the membersof minority groups

can hardly be expectedto be enthusiasticabout a commonsystem of educationat all. It

thus becomes a matter of vital concern to establish just how far the values and

53 ChapterTwo educationalgoals of Muslims in the U.K. are compatible with those of the broader societyand to decidewhat shouldbe donein caseswhere the two setsof valuesare not compatible. Most of the rest of the thesis will in fact be concernedwith thesetwo underlyingissues of minority rights and sharedvalues.

Before these two issues are approacheddirectly, however, the concept of accountabilityneeds a more structuredexamination than has so far beenprovided. In fact, accountabilityis one of the few areaswhere some sort of attempthas been made in the last few years to match philosophy of education and educationalpractice (e.g.

Sockett et al, 1980; Elliott et al, 1981a, Kogan, 1986). Chapter Three will thus examine these attempts,outline current theories of accountability, and assesstheir relevanceand value to the demandsmade by Muslims regardingeducational provision for their children.

54 CHAPTER THREE

EDUCATION FOR MUSLIM CHILDREN IN THE U. K.: THE PRINCIPLE OF ACCOUNTABILITY

Towardsthe end of ChapterTwo it was arguedthat Bradford'sinnovative multi- cultural policies, which have subsequentlyproved very influential on both the Swann Report and the policies of other LEAs, were basedon a belief in the right of all interestedparties, including minorities such as the Muslims, to have their wishesand needstaken into account in educationalplanning and decision-making. This notion of accountability, however - and in this thesis I am concerned specifically with At accountabilityto the Muslim community - is far from unproblematic. the end of ChapterTwo I drew attentionto someof the complicationswhich were highlightedby the Honeyford affair. Implicit in the developing concept of moral and legal

accountability on the part of the LEA is the idea that teachersare merely employees

of the LEA, paid to put the policiesinto practice. The moral and legal accountabilityof the LEA to the electorate thus involves a strong emphasis on the contractual

accountability of headsand other teachersto the LEA. Not surprisingly, a number of teachers,including Honeyford,resented this erosionof their professionalautonomy; professional accountability in their view involves the freedom to makejudgements on educational matters according to appropriate educational criteria and the

responsibility to offer an accountof thesein accordancewith professionalcodes of

practice when required to do so by interestedparties. When the Drummond Parents' Action Committee (DPAC) attemptedto call Honeyford to account, however, their

main objection was that he was not being sensitiveto their cultures or responsiveto their special needs. Responsive accountability implies an obligation to take

account of the wishesof interestedparties beyond the letter of the law or the teacher's

contract;but the term gives no clue as to who the interestedparties are or whoseclaim

55 ChapterThree must take priority in the event that the interestsof the parents,the children, the local communityor the generalpublic are not compatible. To talk in an unqualifiedway of the accountability of teachers to their employers and parents may therefore be misleadingsince it doesnot distinguishbetween different forms of accountabilityand it doesnot acknowledgethe difficulty of being accountableto different interestedparties at the sametime.

Two needsemerge from this brief review of accountabilityin relation to minority communitiessuch as the Muslims in the U.K. Ile first is a clarification of the concept itself. A considerable amount of research has been carried out in the field of accountabilityin recent years,(e. g. Becheret al., 1979;Sockett et al., 1980;Elliott et al., 1981a, 1981b; Kogan, 1986), but this researchhas sometimesbeen based on conflicting conceptual frameworks. The secondis to consider whether any of the

models of accountability point to ways of making decisions about the educationof Muslims that are acceptable to all the parties involved, including the Muslims themselves.These two issueswill occupythe remainderof the presentchapter.

Dictionaries (e.g. the Concise Oxford) usually define 'accountability' either in terms of an agent's obligation to 'give an account'of his actionsor as 'responsibility'. Neitherdefinition is adequatewithout qualification.To define accountabilityin termsof deliveringan accountis inadequatesince it is clear that a headmasterwho harangueshis assembledschool with political propagandafor half an hour every morning will not

have fulfilled the requirementsof accountabilityso long as he is happy to describeor

explainhis actionsto anyonewho requireshim to do so.Educational accountability also

involves taking into account the requirementsof the law, the values of the broader

society, the guidelines of the local authority, the professional code of conduct, the rights of the parents,the interestsof the children and so on. In addition, accountability

implies that the educators'account of their actionsshould (implicitly if not explicitly) be

judged to be satisfactory by those who have a legitimate stake in the educational

56 ChapterThree process.Accountability thusinevitably raisesquestions about who shouldhave a stake in the educationalprocess, and is neverfar removedfrom questionsabout the controlof education.As Bridgespoints out,

an explanationof educationalaccountability couchedsimply in termsof a school's concern to communicatewhat it is doing to an outside audience fails to tell us enoughabout educational accountability as a political concept

locatedamong discussions about the control of education. (1981, p 224)

The equationof accountabilitywith responsibilityinvolves different problems,not

least that it provides too easy a justification for the claim that the teachershould be

accountablein the main'to his or her own informed conceptionof the role of a general

educator'(Bailey, 1983,p 11). Bailey arguesthat

the more I am morally responsibleor accountablefor my own actions, the

less it is reasonable to expect me to be responsible or accountable to

anyoneelse in the senseof simply obeyingthem; thoughit might indeedbe reasonableto expectme to give an accountof, explain orjustify my actions, if only to showpublicly that I am acting in a morally responsibleway. (ibid., p 14)

The trouble with this argumentis that 'responsibility' is a much broaderconcept than

'accountability',and one cannottherefore make distinctions that relateto the former and

apply them uncritically to the latter. The primary force of the sentence,Titty is

responsiblefor her own actions'is that the origin of her actionscan be tracedback to

Titty herself.Miis implies (a) that sheis capableof rational conduct and (b) that sheis

free to choosebetween courses of action. It may also, but neednot, imply that sheis liable to be called on to answer for her actions. Accountability, however, means

57 ChapterThree responsibilityonly in this latter, narrowersense of answerability.But to be answerable implies an audience(whether explicitly referred to or merely understood)in a way which acting in a morally responsiblemanner does not, and thus it is not possibleto discuss educational accountability without asking to whom the educator is to be accountable.It may be possibleunder certain conditions to justify a professionalmodel of accountabilitywhich lays stresson the teacher'sautonomy, as I shall arguelater, but a justification that is basedon too broadan understandingof the conceptwill not do.

An adequateaccount of educationalaccountability must thereforesteer a middle path betweencontrol and autonomy.The autonomyof educatorswill be temperedby the fact that they are accountableto those they serve,and that thosethey servehave legitimateexpectations and requirements which shouldbe satisfied.On the other hand, the control of educationcan neverbe so tight that educatorsare reduced to the statusof conveyorbelts carrying preciousnuggets from the mines of knowledgeto the rows of empty minds waiting to be filled. From what hasbeen said so far, it appearsthat there are six conditionswhich any caseof educationalaccountability must satisfy:

(1) The personwho is accountableis the holder of a definedrole.

(2) ne role-holder's accountabilityrelates to actionscarried out in connectionwith the requirementsof the role.

(3) The is role-holder's accountability to one or more specific audiences- those who havedelegated the responsibilitiesof his role to him, and/orthose who are on the receivingend of his actions.

58 ChapterThree

(4) The audiencehas certain legitimate expectationswhich the role-holder should take into account, and has grounds for insisting that those expectationsbe

satisfied.

(5) The role-holder should be willing to accept that some account of how the expectationsare being satisfiedshould be preparedif the audiencerequires it, or at least that evidenceshould be made available to the audienceso that some assessmentof how the expectationsare being satisfiedcan be made.

(6) Sanctionsor other forms of appropriateaction (including professionaladvice,

remedial help, further feedback) are available if the account or assessment

indicatethat the legitimateexpectations are not beingsatisfied.

Two main typesof questionemerge from thesesix conditions.The first concerns who definesthe responsibilitiesof the specificrole - the role-holderhimself relying on his own professionalexpertise, or the audience;and if it is the latter, doesthis refer to thosewho foot the bill, or thosewho receivethe service?The secondconcerns the level of control implicit in the notion of accountabilityto a specificaudience. Should the role- holder merely be responsiveto the expectationsand requirementsof thosehe serves,or is he answerableto them?The way in which educationalaccountability is understoodin practice dependson the answersgiven to thesetwo questions.Let us look at the two questionsin more detail.

Accountability is usually invoked when there are three parties to an agreement ratherthan just two, i. e. when the role-holderis engagedto provide a servicebut is paid by someoneother than the personwho receivesthe service.In other words, a is paid by b to provide a servicefor c, and a is accountableto both b and c for providing that service.Tbus a bus driver is accountableboth to the bus companywhich hires him and to the passengershe serves,though on someoccasions he might allow his own claims

59 ChapterThree to expertiseto override the requirementsof the other two parties (Tve been driving busesfifteen years,and I know what I'm doing). Accountability proceduresare less likely to be invoked in a situationwhere b paysfor a servicewhich sheherself receives from a, sincethe direct control shecan exert (e.g. by refusing to pay for the service) normally obviates the need for a more time-consumingand less clear-cut calling to account.In education,there is some uncertainty about who b actually is (the local

government,the national government,the tax payer ort the rate payer), about who c actually is (the child, the parent, the local community or society as a whole) and about the legitimacy of the claims of other groups (employers, unions, universities and so on) to have a say in the process.The situation is further complicated by the fact that parents may well pay for education as taxpayers as well as being on the receiving end as consumers. Nevertheless, the crude distinction between a (the educator), b (those who employ him) and c (those for whom he carries out a service) still has some validity. The question of which of these should have the greatest say in determining the responsibilities of educatorslies at the heart of the debate about accountability.

The second question requires a distinction between on the one hand the answerabilityof educators,their responsibility to demonstratethat they are satisfying the expectationsof the audienceand that, for example,pupils are in fact learningwhat they are supposedto learn (which I shall call 'contractualaccountability'), and on the other the processof taking into accountthe requirementsof all interestedparties when making educational decisions (which I shall call 'responsive accountability'). The former categoryis exemplifiedin the questionwhether we are getting value for money from our educational service, the latter in the question which figured highly in

Callaghan's 'Great Debate' launched in 1976, whether education should be more accountable to industry. Contractual accountability is primarily concerned with educational outcomes and results, whereas responsive accountability, while not ignoring these,puts more emphasison educationalprocesses and decision-making.

Contractualaccountability is directed more towards control (though, as we shall see,

60 ChapterThree self-accountingprocedures are an attempt to fulfil the requirementsof contractual accountabilitywhile playing down the elementof control); responsiveaccountability is directedmore towardsinvolvement and interactionbetween the decision-makersand those whom the decisionsaffect. In contractual accountability, the requirementfor educatorsto give an accountof their actionsmeans no more thanthat they shouldgive a descriptionof them; in responsiveaccountability, on the other hand,giving an account of one'sactions involves explainingand justifying them.

An analysiswhich combinesthe distinction betweencontractual and responsive accountabilitywith the dominanceof one of the threemain partiesto the accountability process- the employer (i. e. the LEA, the governing body or other employer), the autonomous professional and the consumer - produces six possible models of educationalaccountability. These are:

1. The CentralControl Model (contractual,employer dominant).

2. The Self-AccountingModel (contractual,professional dominant).

3. The ConsumeristModel (contractual,consumer dominant).

4. The Chain of ResponsibilityModel (responsive,employer dominant).

5. The ProfessionalModel (responsive,professional dominant).

6. The PartnershipModel (responsive,consumer dominant).

These models are, of course, ideal types, but it is hoped that, in spite of the inevitable oversimplification,a brief examinationof eachwill help to shedlight on the notion of accountabilityto the Muslim communityin the U.K.

** **

61 ChapterThree

The Central Control Model lays stresson teachers'status as employeeswith a contract of employment (at least in some sense),who are under the obligation to

demonstratethat they arein fact doing what they arepaid to do (cf Gibson,1980). Even

after paymentby resultswas abandoned,the accountabilityof educatorswas for many yearsjudged primarily in termsof their students!success in public examinations.The requirementof the 1980Education Act that schoolsshould publish a detailedanalysis of their examinationresults for the benefit of prospectiveparents, and the requirementof the 1988 EducationAct that pupils should be testedat the agesof 7,11,14 and 16,

both reflect this view of accountability. One of the purposesof the new national

curriculumis to

enableschools to be more accountablefor the educationthey offer to their

pupils, individually and collectively. (DES, 1987,p 4)

A similar approachhas been much in vogue in the U. S.A. since the 1960s:

educatorsare accountableto the generalpublic (who pay for the educationthrough taxes)for the achievementof pre-specifiedobjectives by the children they teach,and

this achievementis assessedon the basisof the test scoresgained by the children.Test resultsthus loom largein the accountabilityprocess, and the questionof whetherthe tax payeris gettingvalue for moneyfrom the educationalsystem can be answeredin terms

of what resultsare achievedfrom what outlay of resources.The main objectionsto this approachto accountabilityhave beenset out by Sockett(1980, p 17-19).A much less

crudeapproach to centralcontrol, which takesaccount of the fact that the successof a

schoolcan nevermore thanpartially bejudged by test or examinationresults, is seenin

the external monitoring of schools carried out by representativesof the teachers' employers(HMI at the nationallevel andLEA advisersor inspectorsat the local level).

62 ChapterThree

The Self Accounting Model involves schoolsand teachersmonitoring their own activities in an attemptto satisfy the requirementsof contractualaccountability while holding on to as much professional autonomy as possible and avoiding increased bureaucraticcontrol of education.The CambridgeAccountability Project(Elliott et al.,

1981a, 1981b)was mainly concernedwith investigatingschools that were committedto the Self-AccountingModel. Both Scrimshaw(1980) and Becher et al. (1981, p 75ff) offer a numberof argumentsin favour of a schooloffering an accountof its activities rather than being called to accountby an externalbody. Sockett(1982, p 544), on the other hand, questions whether self-accounting is a credible alternative to the bureaucraticcentralism of the first model, since 'accountability without redressis empty'.

Ile ConsumeristModel introducesthe mechanismsof the free marketin placeof central or professional control as the primary means of enforcing educational accountability(cf Kogan, 1986,p 51ff). The model is basedon the belief that if schools or LEAs no longer have a guaranteedclientele, this will createan incentiveto compete which will in turn push up educational standards.The model is exemplified in proposalsfor a voucher systemsuch as that advocatedby Coonsand Sugarman(1978) and more recentlyby Seldon(1986), whereby parents! influence on the characterof the schoolwould be strengthenedby their freedomto spendtheir vouchersat the schoolof their choice.Honeyford, too, arguesthat under sucha system

parents would becomemuch more involvedin the accountabilityof schools,

since theypossess 'the power of exit"and control thepurse strings. (1986)

Of course,individual parentswho are dissatisfiedwith the educationalprovision at one school have always had the right to transfer their children to another.The William

Tyndale affair, for example,started with a considerablenumber of parentstransfering

63 ChapterThree their childrento other schoolsbefore the ]LEA beganto investigatewhat was going on at the school (Gretton and Jackson,1976; Ellis et al., 1976; Scrimshawand Horton, 1981). But the ConsumeristModel goes beyond this in that it involves a radical redistribution of power and authority in educationalmatters. The model clearly lies behind the provisionsof the 1988Education Act which allow the governingbodies of schoolsto opt out of local authority control and allow parentsgreater freedom to send their childrento the schoolof their choice.

The Chain of ResponsibilityModel is a form of responsiveaccountability based on an acknowledgementof the complexity of the relationship between employer, practitionerand client in the field of education,and an acknowledgementthat different types of educationaldecisions may reasonablybe consideredthe domain of different

groups.The model hasthree main features.The first is that an initial distinctionis made between those who make educationaldecisions and those whose wishes, interests, requirementsor opinions are merely taken into accountby the decision-makers.The

second is that the various groups of decision-makers, who consist of different

categoriesof electedrepresentatives and their employees,are ranked in a chain which

extendsfrom parliamentand the DES, to local councilsand LEAs, to schoolgovernors, to headteachers,to senior staff and finally to assistantteachers. In somerespects the

relationshipbetween the links in the chain is hierarchical,in that eachlink can control, to a greateror less extent, the practiceof subsequentlinks, and the autonomyof any given link is subjectto the constraintswhich may be placedupon its freedomof action

by the precedinglinks. However, to describethe relationshipas hierarchicalor as one

of control is to oversimplifyit. For the electedrepresentatives are unlikely to act without

at leastseeking the professionaladvice of their employees,and thoseat the teachingend

of the chain have a variety of meansopen to them for diminishing the effectivenessof

policies initiated without their approval.These include tacitly ignoring the policy, going

through the motions of compliance, campaigning against the policy through their

unions,working to rule and so on. The third characteristicfeature of the model is that

64 ChapierThree

FIGURE ONE: THE CHAIN OF RESPONSIBILITY MODEL

THE CHAIN to ' THE INTERESTGROUPS responsive ... General public, CBI, TUC, universities,national Parliamen UDES pressure groups.

Rate payers, local electorate, employees,local industry

Parents and local community

Head Parents, higher education, colleagues

Parents, pupils, colleagues, unions, other educational institutions

Parents, PuPlls-colleagues, unions. other educational institutions

65 ChapterThree eachlink in the chain hasa specialresponsibility to particularinterest groups, as setout in Figure One. Each link demonstratesits responsivenessto its interestgroups in two ways: soundingout opinion and engagingin dialogue on the particular educational decisionsfor which it hasresponsibility, and delivering an accountof the decisionsit hasmade. One disadvantageof the Chain of ResponsibilityModel is that it might lead to a growth of bureaucracyand to power strugglesbetween different links in the chain.

Another disadvantageis the implicit hierarchyof interestswhich resultsfrom the more or lessexplicit hierarchyof educationaldecision-making and control.Thus the interests of the parentqua parentrank lower than the interestsof the parentqua rate payer,and

both rank lower than the interestsof nationalindustry. An interestgroup may appealto

a higher link in the chain if it believesthe responseto its wishesand demandshas been unsatisfactory,but has no guaranteeof a sympathetichearing. Sir Keith Joseph,for

example,was very responsiveto a small numberof complaintsabout Peace Studies in schools (Joseph, 1984), but refused to get involved in the Honeyford affair; and KennethBaker, who intervenedin the McGoldrick affair, held back from involvement in the disputeat HeadfieldMiddle Schoolin Dewsbury(Caudrey, 1987).

The ProfessionalModel avoidsthe problemof a hierarchyof interestsby leaving educationaldecisions (except on matterson which they arecontractually accountable) to

the judgment of the professionaleducators - or of the school, though I tend to agree with Sockett(1980, p 13) that schoolaccountability is reducibleto the accountabilityof the head and other teachers.On this model, which is set out in more detail by Bailey (1980,1983), professionaleducators seek to retain control over educationaldecisions

which affect themselves,and seethemselves as the arbiter when they are faced with

conflicting demandsfrom different interestedparties. Their professionalstatus requires

themto take accountof all the expectations,wishes and criticisms emanating from those

with a legitimateinterest in the educationthey areproviding, but as they are ultimately responsiblefor educationalpractice, so they claim the right to makefinal judgmentsand

to define the boundariesof their own accountability. This right is based on their

66 ChapterThree professionaltraining and expertise,on the standardsthey have implicitly committed

themselvesto when entering the profession,and on the professionalautonomy that

teachershave traditionally beenallowed in this country. How far the claim of teachers

to be professionallyautonomous is justifiable in our contemporarypluralist societywill be consideredin the final sectionof the presentchapter.

The Partnership Model combines two main principles. The first is that the responsibility for educationaldecisions should not lie with one dominant group, but with a partnership of all those directly affected by a particular decision or with a

legitimateinterest in it. The secondis that all theparties to the partnershipare not merely

consultedbefore the decisionsare taken, but havea sharein the actualdecision-making, either directly or through their representatives(the distinction betweenrepresentation and direct participation, which Pateman(1970) makesmuch of, is not central to the

argumenthere). There are likely to be threestages in decision-makingon this model:(a) the pooling of ideasand the critical discussionof options; (b) 'the negotiationthrough argument and compromiseof whatever can satisfy most people as being the most

rational, or, failing that, the most reasonablesolution! (Bridges, 1978,p 118); and (c)

the acceptanceof the obligation to abideby andhelp carry throughthe decisionswhich

have beenreached in this democraticmanner. This model thereforeprovides a quite different approachto accountabilityfrom the Chain of Responsibilityand Professional Models. Each memberof the partnershipis accountableto the other membersin the

senseof being under an obligation to take their views and interestsinto account,but is not accountableto any outsideinterest group (unlessof coursehe hasbeen elected as a

representativeof a broadergroup, in which casehe will be answerableto them for the way in which he representstheir interests).

A major obstaclefacing the PartnershipModel is the difficulty of gatheringall the

partieswith a legitimateinterest into a singlemanageable committee which can actually

makedecisions. Usually in practiceonly someof the main interestedparties are brought

67 ChapterThree togetheron a decision-makingbody. The SchoolsCouncil was one such attempt,but was perhapstoo dominatedby teachers(Plaskow, 1985).Prior to the 1986Education

(No 2) Act, governingbodies were often dominatedby political nominees.The theory behind the encouragementof greaterextra-professional participation in educational planning and decision-makingis set out in the Taylor Report,to which the roots of the 1986Act canbe traced:

The Secretariesof Statehave pointed out that curricula must meet,and be responsiveto, the needsof society..Jf ordinary people do not, as some

teacherssuggest, understand what schools are trying to do, it is in part

becausethey have traditionally not takenan activepart in determiningthe educationalpolicy of the schools. (DES, 1977)

Elliott (1980,p, 82), however,has arguedagainst the participationof non-professional bodiesin final decisionsabout educational policy, andin any caseit hasbeen suggested

(Bridges, 1982b, p 14) that many parents do not see PTA committees and parent governorsas a genuinevehicle for the expressionof their concerns.

It may be helpful at this stageto look back at Bradford!s educationalprovision for its Muslim communityand ethnicminorities generallyin light of the distinctionswhich haveso far beenmade.

The Accommodationist Phase of Bradford's policy towards its minority communitiesdescribed in ChapterTwo providesan archetypalexarnple of the Chainof

Responsibility Model. A number of featuresof the policy make this clear. First, the council and LEA were attemptingto respondto the perceivedneeds and wishesof the particular interestgroups to which they were responsible.The commentof the former chairmanof the EducationalServices Committee has already been referred to:

68 ChapterThree

One in six of our children comefrom Asianfamilies.. Jt is the simple duty

of the Council to try to satisfytheir needs. (quotedin The Times EducationalSupplement, 25 May 1984)

Secondly,though they took careto engagein dialoguewith the minority communities, the Council and LEA emphasisedtheir own right to interpret and evaluate the requirementsof thosecommunities. Thirdly, the Council andLEA drew attentionto the fact that they were acting within the guidelinesdefined by the governmentor the DES; usually, they claimed to be 'clarifying' or 'interpreting' or 'acting within the spirit of the 1944Education Act. Fourthly, the Council and LEA expectedsubsequent links in the chain of responsibility to take accountof their guidelinesand definitions of good practiceand to act in accordancewith them.

Honeyfor&s stance,on the other hand,provides an equally clear exampleof the ProfessionalModel. WhereLEA guidelineswere specific,he took theseto form part of his contractualobligations and carried them out to the letter. But whereLEA guidelines were expressedin generalterms as recommendationsfor good practice,he considered theseas advice which he as an autonomousprofessional could weigh alongsideother considerationsbefore making decisions about educationalpractice within his own school.The high value which Honeyfordput on professionalautonomy is madeclear in his guide for probationary teachers(1982a, p 158) as well as in the reports he was requiredto preparefor the crucial meetingof the Schools(Education) Sub-Committee on 22 March 1985when a vote of no confidencein him was passed.

The view of accountabilitywhich emergesfrom the protestsagainst Honeyford, however,is much less straightforward.The protest may be divided into three stages.

The first stageinvolved the two logical coursesof action open to parentsaccording to

the analysisof responsiveaccountability which has beenoffered: organisinga protest

69 ChapterThree group (the DPAQ to co-ordinateaction againstHoneyford and to put pressureon the

LEA to respondto their demands(in keepingwith the Chain of ResponsibilityModel); and urging the school's parent governor to press the claims of the DPAC on the governingbody as a whole (in keepingwith the PartnershipModel). In the event,the existingparent governor could not handlethe demandsand resigned, and the electionof the DPAC chairpersonas the new parent governor by a large majority put her in a strong position to urge both governorsand LEA to call Honeyford to account.The LEA! s responseto this first stageof the protest appearedto miss the point, however, the DPAC were objecting to Honeyfords failure to be responsiveto their wishesand needs,but the LEA sentin a teamof inspectorsto Honeyford!s schoolto check that its educationalprovision was in line with LEA policies.In otherwords, complaints about a lack of responsive accountability were being met in terms of the contractual accountabilityof the CentralControl Model.

In the secondstage of the protest, the DPAC beganto call the LEA to account.

Iley claimedto be supportingLEA policieson racerelations, and called on the LEA to take what was in their eyes the necessarystep of dismissing a head who was contraveningthese policies. The Council'sresponse this time was to requireHoneyford to preparesix reviews of aspectsof his school'sprovision -a requirementwhich was closely in line with the Self-Accounting Model, except that there was still a strong element of central control in the advisers' evaluation of these reports. The main complaintsagainst Honeyford in the secondreport by the adviserswere that he had not changedhis attitude in any way and that he was not sufficiently responsiveto the requirements of the particular interest groups that according to the Chain of Responsibility Model were primarily his responsibility - the parents and the local community.As a result of this report he was suspended.

The final stageof the protest, after Honeyford had been reinstated,had much in more commonwith the ConsumeristModel. This stagewas markedby direct action

70 ChapterThree

aimed at making his school unworkable and thus his departure inevitable. The justification for this action was basedon the claim that the parentshad the right, as the

representativesand trusteesof the children at the school, to call a head directly to

account themselves.This of course raises the question whether the wishes and judgmentsof parentsshould be paramountin the educationof their children,a question which has beenmuch debatedin recentyears (cf Coonsand Sugarman,1978; O'Neill and Ruddick, 1979; Bridges, 1984; Hobson, 1984; McLaughlin, 1984,1985), and

which is central to the presentthesis (see Chapter Five). The mode of Honeyford's actualdeparture, however, was suchthat he could claim it was an autonomousdecision

on his part, in line with the ProfessionalModel; althoughhe was willing and able to

carry on as head,he weighedthe effect the disputewas having on his wife's health,the

morale of the staff and the educationof the pupils and decidedthat the bestcourse of

actionwas to acceptearly retirement.

'Me fact that all six modelswere thus operatingin the Honeyfordaffair highlights the difficulties in any discussionof accountabilityto the Muslim community. Clearly,

we are concernedprimarily with responsiveaccountability rather than contractual accountability,but thereare a numberof crucial questionsthat must now be considered. How shouldeducational decisions be reached?How much accountshould be takenof the wishes of interestedparties? Is it in fact possible to take accountof conflicting

wishes, and if not, whose interests are to take priority? Are there basic criteria

accordingto which educationalproblems should be resolvedirrespective of the wishes of interestedparties? If there are, are teachersin the best position to understandthese

criteria and should they thereforehave the final responsibility for decisionsrelating to

educationalpolicy andpractice? 'Ibe final sectionof the presentchapter briefly examines

the kinds of answersprovided to thesequestions by the three models of responsive

acountability and considers the argumentsrelating to each model with particular

71 ChapterThree referenceto the needsand aspirations of the Muslim community.

****

Let us start with the ProfessionalModel. Accountability accordingto this view involves professionalresponsibility, plus a willingness to offer an accountof one's actionswhen this is requiredof one (for example,by a school'sgovernors). It stresses a relationshipof trust betweenthe variousparties involved in the educationalenterprise, rather than one of compulsion,and stressesthe professionaljudgment of the individual teacherrather than the following of externally imposedrules and guidelines. Bailey arguesthat it is basedon the principle of teacherautonomy:

An autonomousteacher does not ignore the wishesand interestsof others-

parents, pupils, governmentsand employers - but such a teacher does reserve the right to consider such wishes and interests in the light of appropriatecriteria. The wantsand wishescannot simply be takenas given starting points. An autonomousteacher does not necessarily refuse to

submit to thejudgment of others, but again such a teacher would need to satisfy himself concerningthe criteria ofjudgment and the proceduresby

which he is askedto acceptthejudgments of others.In particular he might consider it proper to be subject in some matters to the judgment of his professionalassociates.

(1980, p 99)

Bailey offers three main justifications for linking accountabilityto professional autonomy.First, he arguesthat accountabilitynecessarily involves autonomyand that accounts is of moral and professional action only make sense where the agent- consideredto be autonomous(although he points out that autonomyis always a matter degree: of cf 1980,p 104; 1983,pp 11,15). If the agent is merely responsibleto his

72 ChapterThree superiorsin the senseof working strictly to their orders, then it is they, not he, who shouldprovide the explanationand justification of his actions.The secondargument is a refinement of the assumptionheld in some quarters that teachers'professional knowledgeand expertisejustifies them in holding themselvesaloof from non-expert interferenceand criticism, or at leastthat if their actionsare questionedby parents,for example,the appropriateresponse is for teachersto attemptto 'educate'the parents(cf

Nias, 198 1, p 202) by patiently explainingwhat they are seekingto do and why. Bailey (1983, p 13-14) argues that teachers' professional expertise consists not in the possessionof specialisedpackages of informationand skills but in the capacityto apply broadly generalisableknowledge, skills and attitudesto whateversituations they find themselvesin. The capacity to make autonomousdecisions is thus a major part of teachers'expertise, and to instil that capacityin their pupils is one of their major goals; but it is becausetheir decisionsare autonomousones that they have a duty to explain them or give an accountof them to all interestedparties. The third argumentis that teachersin fact haveto be accountablewithin considerablydiverse contexts, and that the best way to help teachersto fulfil their role satisfactorily in these differing school conditions and arrangementsis to encouragethem to develop the capacity to reflect critically on the possible ways of applying generaleducational principles to specific situations and to act on the basis of this rational reflection. Only if teachersare professionallyautonomous will therebe a systemof decision-makingflexible enoughto take into account the needsof individual children and the requirementsof specific contexts:a centrallyimposed system could not be sufficiently adaptable.

The first of thesearguments is broadly acceptable,so long as it is acknowledged

that accountabilityinvolves at leasta minimal degreeof autonomyand a minimal sense

of respondingto, or being constrainedby the legitimate claims of, interestedparties. Indeed,it is this very tensionbetween autonomous action and legitimateconstraint that is picked out by the term 'accountability'.

73 ChapterThree

Bailey's secondargument, which definesteachers' professional expertise in terms of the ability to make autonomousdecisions about what and how to teachchildren, is moreproblematic. Clearly teacherscannot exercise their professionalautonomy in total isolation and independencefrom their professionalcolleagues. But as soonas Bailey concedesthat professionalautonomy includes 'the right to participatein the formation of policy to be collectively implemented!(1980, p 107),we are forced to ask why this right to participateis restrictedto professionaleducators. If the parents(or politicians, employers, trade unionists, social workers or other interested parties) share the fundamentalknowledge and commitment to autonomywhich in Bailey'sview form the basisof teachers'professional expertise, on what groundsare they to be excludedfrom participationin decisionsaffecting the future generation?Even if parentsdo not share this knowledgeand commitment,to exclude them from the decision-makingprocess hasevery appearanceof oppressionand a lack of respectfor the rights and opinionsof others.

If the secondargument relates primarily to questionsof practical detail requiring immediate resolution, then few would dispute that these are best dealt with by the personon the spot; andmuch educationaldecision-making belongs to this category.But

Bailey appearsto arguethat more fundamentaldecisions, such as educationalaims and priorities, should also be the exclusive domain of the professionally autonomous teacher.This does not mean that the wishes and requirementsof interestedparties would be ignored, but simply that they would be put through the filter of the teacher's own rationality, expertiseand professionaljudgment. On Bailey's view, the teacher, who hasan informed and rational conceptionof what educationis and where it should be leading, fights for educationas he seesit and tries to stop it being domesticatedto other ends.The resulting decisionsand actionswould thus inevitably be dependenton the teacher'sperception and understandingof the situation.It is clear that if a systemof autonomousdecision-making by professionalteachers is to be found acceptable,there has to be a high level of trust in the teacher'sperception and understandingof the

74 ChapterThree situation and an agreementover the basiccriteria accordingto which the autonomous decisions should be made. Our contemporarymulti-cultural context underlines the difficulties in achieving either of these conditions. Teachers' perceptions, preconceptionsand tacit cultural assumptionsare no longer universally shared(if they ever ývere),and teachersthemselves are in any case notoriously divided on many issues,including the aims of education.It is doubtful if thereis a sufficient agreement over 'values which are basic to our sharedform of life' (Bonnett, 1979, p 166) to provide a framework of basic educationalcriteria. This point is fundamentalto the argumentof the presentthesis, and will be discussedin muchmore detail in subsequent chapters.

Teacherscan count on public and parental supportmost readily when they are perceivedto be doing their best to achieveeducational goals which are sharedby all interestedparties. Such trust is clearly much more readily achievedin a mono-cultural than in a multi-cultural context.Nias comesto more or less the sameconclusion in an intuitive article of considerableinsight (1981, p 211ff), where sheargues that trust, at least in an educationalcontext, involves (a) predictability of personaland institutional behaviourand (b) agreementover ends.Where thesetwo conditions prevail, parents and the general public appear happy to leave educational decision-making to the autonomousprofessional, confident

both that the school was doing what they would broadly wish it to do and that it could apparentlybe trustedto get on with thejob.

(Bridges, 1982b,p 14)

In the absenceof suchpredictability and agreement,however, the claim of teachersto professional autonomy is likely to be seen as a barrier to, rather than as a way of

facilitating, accountability.A commoneducational system in a pluralist contextis bound

to produceconflict over the aims of the educationprovided, and thus over educational

75 ChapterThree practice, and there will be increasingdissatisfaction with the policy of leaving the decisionsto the teachers.

To sum up, it seemsalmost impossible to have (a) the professional autonomy of teachers, (b) the common school, and (c) a pluralist society at the same time: any two of these conditions precludes the third. (a) and (b) may perhaps be compatible only in a homogeneous, mono-cultural society where there is a broadly shared framework of educational assumptions; they are thus likely to be able to continue in those parts of the

U. K. which have so far been untouched by cultural and ethnical diversity. (a) and (c) can exist together only when two conditions prevail: first, that'virtually everyone in the school knows what (its educational) assumptionsare before joining it and has some fair measure of sympathy with thed (Scrimshaw, 1980, p 52 f); and secondly, that parents have some measureof free choice between schools so that they can in fact find a

school with whose goals they are in sympathy. Athough parental choice has become a

slogan of Conservative educational policy in recent years, it seemsvery doubtful that

Muslims in the U. K. as yet have the freedom to choose a school for their children

which is in harmony with their own educational beliefs and values. Whether this forms

an argument for the establishment of Muslim voluntary-aided schools will be

considered later in the thesis. If (b) and (c) are to be combined, however, Nias (198 1)

suggeststhat the professional autonomy of teacherswill have to be tempered with what

she calls Yorrrial procedures' of accountability, by which she appears to mean forms of

organisation which structuralise relationships, responsibilities and roles within the

school -and which make explicit the criteria according to which decisions are made.

This is becausein a pluralist society, groups such as the Muslims are likely not to share

all the tacit assumptions or stated educational goals of the common school, and

therefore parental rights may be invoked which are ignored when there is a consensus

of values, and teachers' actions are likely to come under much closer scrutiny. 'Formal

procedures' may well involve increased central control, but may also open up greater

participation in decision-making by all the parties involved. The Chain of

76 ChapterThree

ResponsibilityModel is an approachto accountabilitywhich takesaccount of the need for 'formal procedures'and which perhapshas more potential for coping with the fundamentallyconflicting educationalvalues, goals and assumptionsheld by different groups in our society than does the Professional Model. Indeed, in so far as he acknowledgesthe need for 'a structural framework for policy-forming discussion', Bailey (1980, p 107) concedesthe existenceof constraintson teachers!professional autonomy.

Two main argumentscan be marshalledin supportof the Chain of Responsibility

Model of Accountability. The first is that it is a workableand bureaucratically efficient modelwhich succeedsin balancingthe rival claimsof a numberof differentparties with an interest in educationaldecision-making. Of all the models under discussion,it comesthe nearestto current practice in the U.K. It seeksto maximise efficiency by opting for central planning where this would avoid overlapping or duplication in educationaldecision-making (the National Curriculum is an exampleof this), but a balanceis soughtbetween public, nationalinterests and the interestsof the individuaL

There are clear-cut channelsfor parents and other'interested parties to make their influencefelt. It even allows for a certainamount of jockeying for position amongthe various groups. The casestudy of Bradford outlined in the previouschapter shows an

LEA taking the initiative in planningspecial educational provision for its Muslim pupils. On the other hand, the statealso has sometrump cards; it has the financial clout, for example,to imposesome decisions (such as the introductionof TVEI) which havebeen reached with the minimum of consultation. However, teachers can sometimes

command a virtual veto over some state policies by refusing to co-operatein their

implementation;at the time of writing this seemsto be the likely outcome in many

schoolsof the requirementof the 1988Education Act for a mainly Christiandaily act of

worship. The Chain of Responsibility Model thus allows both for centralising tendenciesand for the inevitableopposition to them.

77 ChapterThree

Ile secondmain argumentin supportof the Chainof ResponsibilityModel is that there is greaterlegitimation for the decisionsbeing madesince they are madenot by autonomousprofesssionals but by democraticallyelected representatives (MPs, local councillors, some governors)or by their employeeswho are directly answerableto them. Bridges (1979, p 161 f) and White (1980, p 27 f) take this point further and arguethat decisionsabout what to teachin schoolare dependenton conceptionsof the good life and the good society, and that teacherscannot claim any special expertise which would justify leaving suchdecisions in their hands. The Chainof Responsibility Model seemsto be capableof taldnginto accounta wider variety of conceptionsof the goodlife and is more amenableto the principlesof distributivejustice and to the values of our contemporarypluralist societythan the ProfessionalModel.

Some of the disadvantagesof the Chain of Responsibility Model have already beenmentioned earlier in the presentchapter. its tendencyto encouragebureaucracy and to increasepower strugglesbetween groups and the implicit hierarchy of interests which it entails. The argumentthat greaterlegitimation is given to the educational decisionsaccording to this model becausesome of those making the decisionshave beenelected democratically depends on one'sunderstanding of representation.On one view, representativesare elected to carry out the wishesof the electorate;but in practice there is rarely, if ever, any clear electoral mandateon educationalmatters from the electorateas a whole. As Becheret aL (1981,p 151) point out,

It is seldomgiven to educationministers to be able to quote the backing of

electoralauthorityfor what theydo, becauseeducation rarely - perhapsmore

rarely than other areasof government- gives rise to any clear mandatefor reform.

On anotherview, representativesare elected,not to carry out the specific wishes of the electorate,but becausethey broadly sharethe sameframework of valuesand can

78 ChapterThree thereforebe trustedon the whole to makedecisions that arein the bestinterests of those they represent. But the particular form that parliamentarydemocracy takes in this countrycurrently ensures that no-oneis electedto parliamentwho sharesthe fi-amework of values of the country'sone-and-a-half million Muslims. This does not meanthat their interests are not representedin the senseof being taken into account in the decision-making processat the national level; but it does mean that the terms of referenceby which thoseinterests are expressed and judged aredefined by peoplewho do not sharetheir frameworkof valuesand who may indeedhold incompatiblebeliefs and assumptions.The problemis that the agreementof the majority is all that is needed to make the Chain of ResponsibilityModel workable, but in pluralist context, simple majoritarianismis likely to leavesome minority groupsdissatisfied and anxiousto opt out of the currentsystem. All this is clearly in needof muchmore detailed examination; the questionof the rights of minority groupswill be picked up in ChapterSix, and the possibility of the constructionof a framework of values which would be acceptable both to the Muslims and the non-Muslim majority in the U.K. will be discussedin Part

Three. But one solution to the problem of the apparentoppression of minority groups would appearto be to encouragegreater participation in actual decision-makingby all the partiesaffected by the decisions,as allowedfor in the PartnershipModel.

The argumentsin supportof the PartnershipModel fall into two main sections: those relating to the rights of individuals to protect their own interests, and those relating to the intrinsic value of collective decision-making.The first set of arguments seesthe primary aim of the partnershipas giving an interestedparty, either individually or in alliancewith others,the opportunityto protector defendhis own interests,values, wishesand points of view againstcompeting claims which are put forward by others. NEU(1972c, p 186f) justifies democracyin suchterms:

The rights and interestsof every or any person are only securefrom being

disregarded when the person interested is himself able, and habitually

79 ChapterThree

for Human beings disposed,to stand up them ... are only securefrom evil at the handsof others in proportion as they have the power of being, and

are, sey-protecting.

Free and fair discussionbetween the partnerswould give eachthe chanceto put forward his case and would set in motion negotiations about the best way to accommodatethe different interests. The final decisionwould ideally representsome kind of balanceof individual interests,settled amicably if possibleby mutual consent after free and opendiscussion, but settledby a vote if disagreementsremain too strong to do otherwise. This argumentis clearly basedon the fundamentalliberal valuesof justice, equality and rationality. The secondset of argumentshave been developed recently by Bridges (1979), White (1987) and Haydon (1987), who emphasisethe value of the democraticprocess per se, accordingto which all interestedparties have a sharein the actualdecision-making. Drawing heavily on Mill (1972c),Bridges argues that co-operation in a common cause is a value in itself (1980, p 67) and that participatory democracy enhancesthe quality of life (1979, p 164) both for the communityas a whole and for the individual participants(1978, pp 118-121).

Thereare a numberof practicaldifficulties with this PartnershipModel, however:

how to decidewhose interests in educationaldecision-making are legitimate; how to balancethe partnershipbetween numerically unevenparties suchas parents,teachers,

the general public, LEAs and industry; how to justify the extensive demands

participationmakes on the time, effort andcommitment of thoseinvolved-, how to avoid

conflict and divisivenessas groups realise that their chancesof gaining concessions

increasewith the intensity of feeling with which they expresstheir views; and how to ensurethat the decisionsreached through democraticparticipation are actually good ones. There is a dangerthat democraticparticipation may becomemore of a power strugglebetween rival factions than an impartial way of resolving disagreementsin a spirit of co-operation.Dunlop (1979,p 48) juxtaposesa different type of co-operation

80 ChapterThree in which identity with the community is achievedthrough the sharing of customs, traditions,values and tacit assumptions,and seesthis identity with the community as taking the sting out of any disagreementsthat might ariseand enablinga commonmind to emerge.Within a homogeneous,mono-cultural society, such a spirit of co-operation is quite compatiblewith the autonomyassociated with the ProfessionalModel. In a multi-cultural society,however, it is only likely to be achievedwithin separatecultural groups,or else under a systemwhereby parents are genuinely free to chooseschools which share their own fundamental values and beliefs. How far this provides a justification for the establishmentof separateMuslim voluntary-aidedschools will be consideredlater in the thesis.

Bonnett(1979, p 166)reminds us that thereis a dangerin what I havecalled the

PartnershipModel of losing sightof the fact that thereare objective criteria that provide

'a firm and limiting frarnework'within which democraticdecisions can be made. He points out that 'consistencywith the values upon which the idea of democracyrests would seemto demandset limits upon the content!of decisionsreached by participatory democracy.If Parliamentwere to pushthrough a law requiring boys to have two years more compulsory schooling than girls, this would be unjust whatever democratic procedureswere involved in passingthe legislation. It would be unjust becauseit did not meet certaincriteria of justice, and thesecriteria of justice are a matter of rational appraisalrather than democraticdecision (cf Gutmann, 1980,p 176). A corollary of this (andhere I am extendingBonnetf s argument)is that a dissentingminority neednot consider itself bound by a democratic decision unless that decision satisfies such objective criteria as the demands of justice; otherwise, as Bridges (1980, p 69)

concedes,corporate decision-making would be oppressiveof individual freedomand smackof totalitarianism. This highlights the need,before democratic decision-making

can even start,to endeavourto establishthe criteria accordingto which thosedecisions

can be made, criteria which are consistentwith our fundamentalshared beliefs and

values. Bonnettgoes on to suggestthat establishingsuch criteria might resolvemost of

81 ChapterThree the fundamentalproblems about educational provision, 'suchthat mattersremaining to be resolvedare predominantly technical and therefore more appropriatelythe domainof relevant experts'. If this is so it will be necessary,before any decisionscan be made abouteducational provision for the Muslim community,to establishthe criteria (suchas the rights of parentsand the rights of minority communities)by which thosedecisions will be made,and to set out the fundamentalframework of values (such as freedom, equalityand justice) accordingto which thosecriteria areestablished.

All this, however,presupposes the acceptanceof a liberal framework of values.

Indeed, liberal values are the only thing which the three models of responsive accountability examinedin the presentchapter have in common. The Professional Model lays particular stress on autonomy, the Chain of Responsibility Model on distributivejustice and the PartnershipModel on democraticparticipation. The Swann

Committee too has produced a basically liberal report (DES, 1985), basing its recommendationson what it seesas rationally justifiable axioms for a democratic pluralist society. But the valueswhich underliethe educationalrecommendations of the Swann Report are far from generallyaccepted by the Muslim community (cf Ashraf,

1986a; Khan-Cheemaet al., 1986). The question therefore arises whether liberal

values can actually provide a framework within which the question of educational provision for the Muslim communitycan be resolvedto the satisfactionof the Muslims themselves.Part Two thusexamines liberal valuesand the criteria by which liberalism would seek to resolve the problem of educating Muslim children. Chapter Four

sketchesa frameworkof liberal valuesand their educationalimplications, and Chapters

Five and Six explore the rights of Muslim parents and the Muslim community

respectivelyfrom a liberal perspective.

The argumentsof the presentchapter have suggestedthat all forms of responsive accountability work best in situations where such accountability is least likely to be called for, i. e. situationsof trust where there is a broad agreementover fundamental

82 ChapterThree values. Part Three pushesthe discussionone stagefurther back by comparing the fundamentalvalues of liberalism with thoseof Islam, to seewhether there is in fact a sufficient basis of sharedvalues (or if not, whether one could be agreed)to enable both world views to work togetherwithin a commoneducational system.

83 PART TWO THE RIGHTS OF MUSLIMS :A LIBERAL PERSPECTIVE

84 CHAPTERFOUR

THE LIBERAL FRAMEWORK OF VALUES

Towards the end of ChapterThree it was arguedthat the conceptof responsive accountabilitytakes for granteda liberal frameworkof values. The aim of the present chapteris to examinethis frameworkbriefly. The chapterhas the limited intention of providing a basisfor the considerationof the rights of Muslims as parentsin Chapter Five and as a minority community in ChapterSix. The aim of Part Two as a whole is to explore whether liberal principles and values can provide a meansto resolve the problem of educational provision for Muslims which is acceptable to Muslims themselves.The presentchapter also provides a basisfor the comparisonof liberal and

Islamic valuesin PartThree.

Although it is of courseacknowledged that many different versionsof liberalism exist, it is not relevant to the purposesof the presentthesis to discussthe arguments betweenthese different versions in any detail. On the contrary, my main focus of attentionwill be the inter-relationshipsof liberal values,particularly different typesof rights. The understandingof liberalism which I shall adopt will be as broad as possible, though it will be necessaryto establish the boundariesof liberalism, by contrasting it with non-liberal world views such as totalitarianism. The chapter is written in the belief that liberalism provides the theoreticalframework of values that comes closest to the actual political, economic and educationalcircumstances that prevail in our particular society,and that liberal valuesare to be found in a wide range of political perspectivesfrom conservatism(in spite of attemptsby Scruton, 1984,pp 192 ff, Dworkin, 1978,pp 136 ff, and othersto drive a wedgebetween liberalism and conservatism)to certain forms of socialism (cf Freeden,1978, pp 25 ff, Siedentop, 1979,p 153). Whereit is necessaryto concentrateon one typical form of liberalism in ChapterFour the courseof the chapter,I shall focuson the particularstrand which can be tracedfrom

Kant to contemporaryphilosophers like Rawls, Dworkin, Hart, Williams, Ackerman,

Gutmannand Gaus,and in the areaof educationto liberal philosopherssuch as Hirst and Peters(pace Enslin, 1985),because this seemsto me to be the most influential strandin contemporaryliberal thought.

Liberalism is generally considered to have its origin in conflict, but this conflict is variously depicted. Gaus (1983, p2 f) depicts it as being between individuality and sociability, while others have seen it as a conflict between liberty and equality

(Gutmann, 1980, p8 f), or self-fulfilment and social justice. Ackerman (1980, p 3) fixes the point of origin for liberal values in the conflict between one individual's control over resources and another individual's challenge to that claim. I shall argue in this chapter that there are three fundamental liberal values. The first is respect for the freedom of the individual, and the second is the equal right of all other individuals to similar freedom (cf Hart, 1984, p 77 f). There is a tension that exists between these two values (cf Norman, 1982; Ackerman, 1980, pp 374 ff). In fact, some liberals have argued strongly that the first value is the more fundamental (Hayek, 1980; Berlin,

1969) and others have made out an equal strong case for the second (Dworkin, 1978).

However, I want to argue that it is precisely the tension between the first two values

which gives rise to the need for the third fundamental liberal value, that of consistent

rationality. By this I mean the willingness to articulate logically consistent rational justifications for decisions and actions. It is with these three fundamental liberal values

and their inter-relationships that I shall be mainly concernedin the present chapter.

lbough they may be understoodin a variety of ways (seebelow), there seemsto

be fairly widespreadagreement among liberals that theseare the most fundamental

values,and that liberal ethical theoryis basedon them. Thus the principle of respectfor personsis groundedon the second and third values, and the principle of personal autonomyon the first and third. The interactionbetween all threevalues provides the

86 ChapterFour basis for the just resolution of conflict. It is when we proceed beyond the three fundamentalvalues that the different versions of liberalism part company. The first parting of the wayscomes between those who believethat'good is of prior importance and thereforejustify actionsand decisionsin terms of their consequences,and those who believe that 'right' is of prior importance and therefore justify actions and decisionsin termsof a setof moral duties. The dominantview in the former categoryis utilitarianism,which maintainsthat thejustice of institutionsmay be measuredby their capacityto promotethe greatesthappiness of the greatestnumber, classical exponents of utilitarianism include Bentham(1948) and Mill (1972a), and it has found a modem upholder in J.C. C. Smart -(Smart and Williams, 1973). The latter category has produceda rangeof different views, dependingon how the moral dutiesare conceived. An initial distinctionmay be madebetween intuitionism (which involves the attemptto fit a setof unrelatedlow-level maximsof conducttogether into a consistentwhole, and thus may be considered the nearestphilosophically respectableapproximation to 'common sense';cf Raphael, 1981,p 44 f, Benditt, 1982, pp 81 ff) and distributive justice (which involves the claim that the plurality of moral duties must be conceived hierarchically).Libertarians such as Hayek, Friedmanand Nozick would give priority to the following maximsof distributivejustice:

To eachaccording to his merit; To eachaccording to his work.

Egalitarians such as Rawls, Dworkin and Gutmann,on the other hand, prefer to see distributivejustice in termsofi.

To eachaccording to his need,

To eachaccording to his worth.

(cf Vlastos, 1984,p 44)

87 ChapterFour

Thesemaxims can be seen,for example,in Rawls' principlesof justice:

First Principle. Each person is to have an equal right to the most

extensivetotal systemof equal basic liberties compatible with a similar systemof libertyfor all.

SecondPrinciple. Social and economicinequalities are to be arrangedso

that they are both: (a) to the greatest benefit of the least advantaged,

consistentwith the just savingsprinciple, and (b) attached to offices and

positionsopen to all underthe conditionsoffair equalityof opportunity. (1972, p 302)

To pursue the differences between these conceptionsof liberalism, however,

would take me beyondthe very limited brief of the presentchapter, and I want now to

returnto a considerationof the threefundamental liberal values.

The framework of values can be classified initially by considering what is

excluded by the three fundamentalvalues. The first value, that of respect for the freedomof the individual, clearly excludesa totalitarianemphasis on communalunity to

the extentthat it endangersindividuality. Thus liberalism is broadly incompatiblewith Marxism (cf Gaus, 1983,p 6). The secondvalue, that of the equal right of all other individuals to similar freedom, excludes the hierarchical ranking of individuals

accordingto which somehave a greaterclaim to freedomthan others. Thus liberalism

rejects slavery, for example,or Nazi claims to superiority over Jews (cf Ackerman, 1980, p 6). The third value, that of consistent rationality, excludes arbitrariness, inconsistencyand the failure to take accountof relevant factors (cf Taylor, 1982). It

rules out the uncritical acceptanceof dogma,whether based on authority or revelation, and equally it refusesto drift into the sort of relativism which insists that culturesfor

88 ChapterFour example,can only be understoodfrom within and on their own terms (cf Hollis and Lukes, 1982).

There is considerablescope, however, for different understandingsof the three fundamentalliberal values. The freedomof the individual, for example,may involve freedomto satisfyone! s desires(as in Benthamiteutilitarianism: cf Bentham,1948) or to realise one's rationally determinedinterests (as in Kant, 1948), or simply to be oneselfby being free from constraint. It may, but neednot, involve the constructionof a life-plan (cf Rawls, 1972,p 407 ff, Gaus, 1983,p 32 ff). The equalright of all other individuals to similar freedom may be understoodin a fairly minimal way by some

libertarians,but is usually expanded(especially by modemliberals) into someform of

group membershipor collectivism, which may be seenin such diverseinstitutions as

the nation state,the tradeunion or the commonschool; Gaus (1983) in particular talks

of a'new liberalism!in termsof social life and humanpotential to co-operate.Finally, consistentrationality may, on a utilitarian view, involve no more than the rational

appraisalof utility (i.e. what will promote happinessand reducehappiness), which is taken to provide the basis for the just resolution of conflict. A Kantian view of

consistentrationality, on the other hand, is much richer, as it not only provides the basisfor thejust resolutionof conflict, but also is an end in itself (the 'searchfor truth')

and enrichesour understandingof the first two liberal values: thus the freedomof the individual is understoodin terms of rational autonomyand the will (which itself may

provide the basisfor certain supererogatoryvirtues such as generosityand humility),

and the equalright of all other individuals to similar freedomprovides the basisfor an

ethical systemwhich includes respectfor persons,promise keeping, refraining from deceit, tolerance,openness, fairness and freedom from envy. Even those who argue that liberalism is groundedin agnosticismabout moral issues(e. g. P White, 1983)are

committed to the principle of consistentrationality, in that they insist on remaining scepticalonly becauseno goodreasons have as yet beenprovided to justify a changeof view.

89 ChapterFour

Typically, no one conceptionof the good life is favouredin liberalism,and a vast rangeof life-styles,commitments, occupational roles and life-plans arepossible within the liberal framework(cf Popper,1966). Certainforms of humanbehaviour, however, are ruled out in principle by referenceto the three fundamentalliberal values; these include prejudice, intolerance, injustice and repression. Other forms of human behaviour are necessaryin principle on a liberal view in certain contexts (such as equality of opportunity), though ways of putting them into practice or even conceptualisingthem may still be hotly debated. In contextswhere certain forms of behaviour are consideredessential to a liberal perspective,a liberal theory can be developed. The liberal framework of values has produced in particular a political theory,an economictheory and a theoryof education.

Liberal political theory supportsdemocracy as the mostrational safeguardagainst tyranny, and clarifies the role of the stateand the law (Benn and Peters,1959; Duncan,

1983). The stateis not an end in itself but 'exists to regulatethe competition among individuals for their private ends' (Strike, 1982b, p 5). It provides the meansof protectingthe public interestand ensuringsocial justice (Nuller, 1976). The law exists to maintain order in society,by protectingpersons and property (Jenkins,1980) and to prevent harm (Mill, 1972b;Hart, 1963). Somemajor debateswithin liberal political theory include the extentto which democracyshould entail representation,which may satisfythe protectionof interests,or participation,which may contributealso to human development(cf Pateman,1970,1979; Lucas, 1976);the balancingof statepower with

civil liberties (cf Dworkin, 1977,p 206 ff; Strike, 1982a);and the conflict betweenthe

right-wing emphasison stability, non-interference,free enterprise,initiative and merit, andthe left-wing emphasison egalitarianismand the combattingof socialinjustice.

Liberal theory acceptsthe holding of private property as legitimate and supports the notion of the free market economy in which free marketsprovide the goods and

90 ChapterFour serviceswhich consumerschoose to buy, thoughthe statemay interveneto regulatethe economyif necessary,to ensurefree andfair competitionand to preventharm to others. Liberalism does not, however, require a particular stancewith regard to any of the following debates: the debatebetween those like Hayek who continue to supportthe

old liberal principle of laissez-faireand more modemliberals who emphasisethe need for tighter governmentcontrol, for example,in monetarypolicy or welfaredistribution; the debatebetween the supportersof capitalistfree enterpriselike Friedman(1962) and thosewho wish to seea significant redistributionof wealth and income, for example, by providing a minimum wage;and the debatebetween those who emphasisethe need

for free enterpriseand efficiency, and those who argue for an increasein industrial democracy.

A liberal theoryof educationrules out certainprocesses such as indoctrination and

brainwashing,and rules in the developmentof the rational self (Hirst, 1974,p 30 ff-,

Strike, 1982b, p 12) and social competencesand the provision of the breadth of

knowledge and understandingand the dispositional qualities neededto facilitate the

developmentof personalautonomy (Dearden, 1972; White, 1982). It leavesopen to

debatethe questionhow far the interestsof children shouldbe protectedby their parents or the stateand how far they canbe viewed asrationally autonomousindividuals before they achieveadult status(i. e. free to developtheir own idea of the good, and free from the constraintsof authority). Within limits, it also leavesopen the debatebetween the commonschool and differentiated schooling.

There can be no liberal theory of religion becauseno elementsof religion are

required by the threefundamental liberal values. On the contrary,what is requiredof

the liberal stateis a degreeof neutrality on religious matters,together with a respect for individual freedomof conscience.Fishkin (1984,p 154)points out that

91 ChapterFour

The state could not enshrine the religious convictions of any particular groupsby public commitmentsand avoid the charge that it was biasing the

marketplaceof ideas by giving certain metaphysicaland religious claims, certainultimate convictions, the starnpof stateauthority and legitimacy.

Religion is seenas a private andvoluntary matterfor the individual, andit is herethat a gulf opensup most clearly betweenthe liberal and the Islamic frameworkof values,for on an Islamic perspectivereligion providesa completeway of life which encompasses public domainslike politics and educationas well as the private domain of personal faith. The question whether Islamic beliefs can be held in a way which does not conflict with fundamentalliberal valuesoccupies much of the remainderof the thesis.

Two crucial questionsnow arisein connectionwith the freedomof individuals to pursuetheir own religiousinterests:

To what extentdoes this freedominclude the right to bring up one'schildren in

one'sown religion? This question,which involves liberal conceptsof the child

and the family as well as the liberal valuesalready mentioned, forms the topic of ChapterFive.

(b) To what extentdoes a minority religious communityhave the right to preserve, maintainand transmitits beliefs to the next generation?This questioninvolves

liberal conceptsof pluralism and minority rights as well as the values already mentioned,and forms the topic of ChapterSix.

Both questionstouch on the conceptof rights, and it is with a brief sketchof the liberal conceptof rights that the presentchapter concludes. Rights have beenanalysed by content, by status,by origin, by context, and by the grounds on which they are justified. They areusually prefixed by somesort of defining adjective: moral, political,

92 ChapterFour legal, social, natural,human, constitutional, civil, individual, religious, women!s, and so on. For the purposesof the presentdiscussion, however, I shall distinguish only two typesof rights, which I shall call moral rights and social rights. By moral rights I mean those rights without which the three fundamental liberal values cannot be achieved.Examples of theseare the right to life itself, the right not to be enslaved,the right not to be brainwashed.These come closest to the statusof absoluterights, though there has always been a debate among liberals as to whether there really are any absoluterights (Gewirth, 1984),for it is not difficult to imagine situationswhere one setof primafacie rights may be in direct conflict with another(McCloskey, 1985, p 133 ff). By socialrights I meanthose rights which are establishedby rational debateas the most appropriatemeans of ensuringthe just resolution of conflict and generalhuman well-being.These rights are opento negotiationeven among liberals, and may haveto be fought for, even though they involve claims basedon liberal ethics and the liberal theoriesof politics, economicsand education.They areoften definedby law; examples include the right to education,the right to low cost housing,the right to free medical care or to a minimum income. Often theserights are to do with the definition of roles and relationshipsand the distribution of power (for example,women's rights, parents' rights). Sometimesthe rights are little more than a rhetorical expressionof desiresand needs,or a preferencefor particular social goals, such as students'rights and animal rights (cf Jenkins,1980, p 2411).A right is only a claim or a demandunless it is built into the social structureand thereis an apparatusfor implementingit. As Jenkinspoints

out, rights are not usually invokedexcept to redressinjustice (ibid., p 243). On a liberal

view, rational deliberationand/or negotiation is alwaysneeded to resolvea situationof

conflicting rights.

On this analysis,the right of an individual Muslim to practise his religion is a moral right basedon the fundamentalliberal value of respectfor the freedom of the individual. It hasa near-absolutestatus. The right of Muslims to bring up their children in the faith of Islam, however, is a social right which is much more open to debate.

93 ChapterFour

Liberals may havedoubts about the rights of Muslim parentsin this casebecause they seethem aspotentially in conflict with the rights of the childrento be liberatedfrom the constraintsof their cultural environmentand to grow up into personallyautonomous adults.I shall examinethis argumentmuch more closely in ChapterFive, togetherwith the Muslim rejoinder that the liberal view fails to take adequateaccount of the cohesivenessof the family unit and the emotionalbonds which will normally provide a stable,secure context within which the childrencan thrive.

A liberal understandingof rights tends to be in terms of the individual or of societyas a whole. It appearsto be part of the logic of liberalism to reducethe rights of minorities to individual rights. In ChapterSix I shall examinethe right of the Muslim community to useeducation to preserveits distinctive beliefs and valuesand transmit theseto the next generation.Once again,on a liberal view, this is a social right which

has to be weighed against other considerations.From a Muslim perspective, the questionis whethertoo high a price in termsof acceptanceof fundamentalliberal values is beingdemanded in return for the concedingof the rights of Muslims to transmittheir

faith. In Dworkin's famousimage of the trump card (1984,p 153 ff), he arguesthat an

individual has a right when there is a reasonfor assigningsome resource, liberty or opportunityto him eventhough normally decisiveconsiderations of the generalinterest

would militate againstthat assignment.Fishkin (1983, p 188f), however,reminds us

through the story of the monkey'spaw that a trump card may sometimesbe usedto fulfil certain wishes but at too high a price to a general state of well-being. The

underlying question with which I am concernedin the remainder of Part Two is

whether,if Muslims acceptthe right to educatetheir children in accordancewith their

own beliefs on liberal terms, they will find themselvescommitted to a framework of valueswhich is fundamentallyat oddswith their own deeplyheld beliefs.

Tle presentchapter has inevitably been somewhatschematic, but it will have

served its purpose if it makes clear as precisely as possible what is meant by

94 ChapterFour

'liberalisrif wheneverthe term is usedin the courseof the thesisand if it providesan adequatefoundation for the discussionof Muslim rights in the next two chapters.

95 CHAPTER FIVE

A LIBERAL VIEW OF MUSLIM PARENTS' RIGHTS

In Chapter Four I presenteda sketch of liberal values and located a liberal approachto education,religion and rights within that sketch. In the presentchapter I will narrow the focus of attentionto a liberal view of the rights of Muslim parentsto bring up their children in their own religion. This will involve an examinationof parents'rights and childrens'rights. I shall argue that on a liberal view parentscan claim certainpaternalistic rights in connectionwith their children, but that theserights are constrainedby considerationsof (i) the public interestand (ii) the needto promote the personalautonomy of children. The effect of theseconstraints is that although parentsmay be justified in bringing up young children in an environmentof religious belief, they are not justified in taking steps to ensure that their children cross the thresholdto adulthoodas unquestioning religious believers.

In the course of the chapter I shall criticise this liberal view on three main grounds. The first is that it has no clear concept of childhood or of the distinction betweenchildhood and adulthood. Ibis createsdifficulties when it comesto justifying the common liberal demandfor equal respectbetween children and adults. Liberals tendto depict adulthoodin termsof freedom,autonomy and rationality andchildhood in termsof the absenceof these,yet refuseto define the transitionbetween childhood and adulthoodin termsof someminimum attainmentof freedom,autonomy and rationality.

The refusal follows inevitably from the fact that such a definition would sit rather uneasilywith the secondfundamental liberal value - the equalright of all individuals to the samefreedoms - becausesome children would attain the minimum level before others;but in any caseautonomy is notoriouslydifficult to quantify.

96 ChapterFive

The secondmain criticism of the liberal view is that sinceliberalism is grounded in the conflict betweenindividuals, it tendsto seethe family in termsof the conflicting rights and interestsof parentsand children (cf Ackerman, 1980,p 151-4). This is an inadequateconceptualisation of family relationshipshowever, since the family may producebonds of loyalty andinspire altruistic feelingswhich (eventhough liberals may acknowledgethem), do not fit easilyinto an accountof liberal values.

Finally, on a liberal view the family is often seen as a meansto an end, for example,as a training ground where children develop communalfeelings and social attitudeswhich they later extend to their broadersocial milieu (Gaus, 1983,p 96-8).

The preferredend on a liberal view is the developmentof personalautonomy, and the autonomyof the family is suppressedwhere necessaryfor the sakeof this end. I shall arguelater in the thesis that the developmentof personalautonomy is only one of a variety of goalsthat parentsmay legitimately havefor their children, and that a strong emphasison the developmentof personalautonomy can in fact be counter-productive. If the chilSs presentfreedom is constrainedin order to make future choice more real, and the parent!s presentfreedom is constrainedin order to protect the interestsof the child, this would appearto put some strain on the first fundamentalliberal value of respectfor the freedomof the individual.

I shall now turn directly to the questionwhether Muslim parentshave the right on a liberal view to bring up their children in their own religion. To producea negative answerto this question,it would haveto be establishedthat at leastone of the following statementscan be justified on a liberal view:

either

(a) that parentshave no right in principle to make any fundamental decisions

aboutthe educationor upbringingof their own children;

97 ChapterFive

(b) that it would conflict with the public interestfor different children to be brought

up as unreflectivereligious believers,and that in this respectconsiderations of public interestare paramount;

(c) that such an upbringing or educationwould infringe the best interestsof the children,and that suchan infiingementis unjustifiable.

An examination of these three propositions provides the framework for the presentchapter.

****

Let us consider the first proposition, that parentshave no right in principle to make any fundamental decisions about the education or upbringing of their own children. P White (1983)argues that

thereare no, so to speak,setf-standing parental rights. That is, thereare no rights possessedby parents qua parents which permit them to direct their children'slives along certaintracks. 159 f)

Shegoes on to concedethat parentsdo havetwo typesof rights. (The first is to enable

them to carry out their parentalresponsibilities - though it is not clear precisely what would be licensedby sucha right - and the second,held in commonwith all citizensof a democraticsociety, allows them to try to interestothers, including children, in their

owninterests). But her claim offends widely held 'commonsense'assumptions about parentalrights. Parentshave traditionally beenconsidered to have the right to develop

98 ChapterFive particulartalents in their children,to buy superioreducation, to withdraw their children from RE lessons,to sendthem to a religious school, and so on. White's view shows liberal educationaltheory at its furthestfrom currenteducational practice, although she doesrepresent her proposalsas a basis for practice. In spite of the fact that the view seemscounter-intuitive, however, in the sensethat it deniesparents a freedomthat they have traditionally held, it can be seenas a practical way of resolving a problem that liberal philosophers(such as Fishkin, 1983) have been becomingincreasingly aware of, that the autonomyof the family sits uneasily with other liberal values,such as the equality of life chancesand the principle of personalautonomy. Fishkin seeswhat he calls a'trilemma of equal opportunity' in theseconflicting values, which can only be resolvedby'systematic intrusions into the family' (1983,p 6).

But what precisely is meantby the autonomyof the family? First, parents(and others)have their own interestswhich can sometimesonly be achievedthrough the co- operationof other membersof their family. There is thereforea needto balancethe rights of children againstthe rights of their parents,and thereis no needto assumethat the rights of the children will always be paramount. A family consensusmay be sought.Secondly, since parentsare most affectedby what happensto their children, they are surelyentitled to the biggestsay in crucial decisionsaffecting their future. The goodof the parentis tied up with what happensto the child.

It must not be assumedthat family ties necessarily conflict with children!s interests. On the contrary, they may help children to learn communal feelings and social attitudes(cf Gaus, 1983,p 93-6). 1bus Fishkin (ibid p 35-6,42) claims that the autonomyof the family requires that so long as no-one is severelyharmed, intimate consensualrelations within a given family governing the developmentof its children shouldbe immunefrom externalcoercive interference (cf Geach,1983, p 4,15-16). In this statement, however, both the concept of 'severe harm' and the concept of

'consensualrelations! are problematic. Children are vulnerableto oppression,open to

99 ChapterFive manipulation and exploitation and generally in need of protection. And consensus within the family may suggestno more than that children have beenindoctrinated or their affectionsmanipulated and their desiresshaped by their parents(cf McLaughlin, 1984;Lukes, 1974). Thus a particular form of upbringing cannotbe justified simply by the retrospectiveapproval of the child, but must be justified on more objective

grounds,such as whetherit satisfiesthe conditionsof equalopportunity and aims at the personalautonomy of the child.

This leads to the question of paternalism and parents' rights. Whatever

disagreementthere may be aboutthe natureof childhoodand the statusof the child (see

below), it is clear that children are physically, psychologicallyand morally immature,

and that they lack the rational capacity to exercisethe responsibilitiesof citizenship. 'Mis is takento justify paternalism(the right to interferein the life of anotherperson for

his or her own good), although the extent to which paternalism should be applied towardschildren is a matter of much debate(cf Harris, 1982b). Strike (1982a)argues

that the presentfreedom of the child may be infringed to prevent her from harming herself, to develop her rational capacities, to expand her future opportunities, to

maximiseher future happinessand to preventher from making immature,uninformed decisions.

The main question is whether the parents or the state should be the primary

paternalisticagent in respectof children (cf Henley, 1979,p 255). The teachermay

also have somepaternalistic authority, though her relations with children are likely to

show more of the authority of the expert over the novice (Strike, 1982a,p 134 ff); it hasfi-equently been argued that the teacheris an expertin meansrather than an arbiterof

ends, though this view may be too simplistic (cf Sockett, 1975,53 ff). It is clear, however, that the state!s generalcontrol over the child in the last century has been

extended at the expenseof the family (Peters, 1959, p 41-44). For example, the requirement that all children go to school may be justified at least partially on

loo ChapterFive paternalisticgrounds (cf Raphael,1983, p 14) thoughit is also of greatutility to adults (Harris, 1982b,p 45). This requirementhas beenextended in the last century from a few years' instruction in basic skills to institutionalisation for a substantialpart of childrereslives (Strike, 1982b,p 89). This extensionof statecontrol has beenviewed with concern in some quarters (cf Geach and Szwed, 1983, p 1-2), though Hamm (1982,p 75 ff) arguesthat societyat large (i. e. the democraticstate) is more competent than an individual parent to fulfil the paternalistic duty of providing an education. Gutmann(1980) suggests that the bestpaternalistic agency will be the one that can best satisfy the interestsof the child and thus leavesopen the possibility that it may not be the parent. Friedman(1962, p 85) claims that thereare two groundsfor governmental involvementin education:when the consequencesof educationaffect thepublic interest

(which will be discussedbelow), and involvement for paternalisticreasons. But the

state cannot take over all the responsibilities of parenthood,from parents without

becominga kind of Big Brother-,children can only learn what it is to be a personand develop an understandingof private values (cf Strike, 1982b, p 87 ff) from other

individuals, not from the state. Thus although the state has a legitimate claim to

paternalisticintervention in the public developmentof the child (i.e. as a future citizen) it must acknowledgethat that involvesonly oneelement in the upbringingof the child; it thereforedelegates (if that is not too stronga word) responsibilityfor the development

of personhoodand private values to those who have the strongestsense of duty and commitmentto the child, who know the child andits needsmost intimately andwho are tied most closely to it by bondsof affection. Thus the weight of the argumentabout

who shouldbe the primary paternalisticagent seems to favour the parent (or someone

actingin locoparends).

This relationshipbetween child, parent and statecan perhapsbe expressedmost clearly in termsof a hypotheticalsocial contract made between the parentsand the state at the birth of a child. The biological parentsare appointedtrustees of the child; the trusteeshipdemands that they makedecisions in the best interestsof the child and that

101 ChapterFive those decisions are not against the public interest; in return, they are allowed to determinethe courseof their family life without undue interferencefrom the state, except in so far as such interference may be required to prepare the children for citizenship. The stateremains the final arbiter when the terms of the trusteeshipare abusedby natural parents,and thus has the right to find substituteparents or to take over the trusteeshipitself if the natural parents are clearly either not acting in the interestsof the child, as in the caseof child abuse,or acting in conflict with the public interest, for example, by allowing the child to commit crimes. The need for such interferencemay be muchless, however, when thereis an extendedfamily (astypically occursin the Middle East)than in the Westernnuclear family. Stateinvolvement in the upbringing of children otherwiseis limited to situationswhere the statehas an interest in what happens,such as the increaseof industrial performance,the developmentof socialcompetencies, and the preparationof children for democraticcitizenship. On this view, the statecan only insist, for example,that all childrenlearn a modemlanguage in schoolif it can be demonstratedthat this is in the public interest;otherwise the decision is the parents%and they must decidewhether it is in the interestsof their own particular child to learn a modem language. In the sameway, parents are free to send their childrento the schoolof their choiceunless it can be shownthat it is againsteither their children'sinterests or the public interestfor them to do so. Thus parentsare not barred in principle from making fundamentaldecisions about the educationor upbringing of their own children, unless those decisions conflict with either their children!s own interestsor the public interest.

This sameconclusion can be reachedby a shorterroute suggestedby McLaughlin

(1984). If it is acceptedthat there is more than one path to the goals of a liberal

education(as Ackerman, 1980,argues), then so long as parentsagree to confine their

decisionsto a liberal frameworkof valuesand to avoid decisionsthat conflict with their children'sinterests or the public interest,there can be no groundsfor denying parents

the right to make fundamental decisions about the upbringing of their children.

102 ChapterFive

Whetheror not it could be enforcedin practice,such a denial could only be justified if

parentsdid not keeptheir part of the bargain. To deny them the right in advancewould

amountto unjustifiablestate constraint or interferencein the legitimatefreedom of the individual.

Therefore the statement that parents have no rights in principle to make

fundamentaldecisions about the educationor upbringing of their children cannotbe justified. We must now turn to questionsof public interest and the interestsof the child.

****

In this sectionI want to considerwhether it would necessarilyconflict with the

public interestfor children to be brought up in the religion of their parents. There are three conditions under which an action may be consideredto conflict with the public interestin a democracy:

(i) if it promotespurely sectionalinterest at the expenseof the societyas a whole;

(ii) if it fails to weigh all relevant interests fairly and impartially and with due respectto the fundamentalliberal valuesof justice, equalityand freedom;

(iii) if it fails to take accountof the interestsof peoplegenerally as membersof the

public. By 'interests'I mean what is beneficial to them (cf P White, 1973,p,

220) and what increasestheir opportunitiesto get what they want (cf Barry, 1967,p 115).

The generalpublic has a twofold interestin education,the first positive and the

other negative. The positive dimension involves the development in children of

103 ChapterFive competencieswhich will help to create a stable and democratic society. Friedman

(1962, p 86) says that such a society is 'impossible without a minimum degreeof literacy andknowledge on the part of most citizensand without widespreadacceptance of some common set of values'. Since all citizens share the samelaws, the same political rights, andthe sameeconomic system, it is important that they shouldbe able to 'interactharmoniously and communicate intelligibly' and'function properly in a just society' (Strike, 1982a,p 159). It is in the public interest that individuals should becomegood citizens or becomeeconomically productive, and where there is such a public interest,education becomes a1egitimate object of public concern!(ibid). 'Mis is thejustification for compulsoryeducation, public financingof schoolingand for public regulationof private education. The negativedimension involves the protectionof the public interestfrom harm. For example,if parentssought to bring up their childrenin a way that was seento 'fuel intoleranceand underminesocial co-operation'(Coons and Sugarman,197 8, p9 1), the statehas a right to overrulethe parentsto preventthe public interestfrom beingharmed.

If religious upbringing necessarilyeither preventedchildren's preparationfor

citizenshipor damagedthe public interest(by fuelling intolerance,for example),then the state would be justified in principle in forbidding it. It is easy to think of hypotheticalexamples of religious upbringing where such an eventualitymight occur.

All I am concernedto establishnow is that it doesnot necessarilyoccur in all casesof

religiousupbringing. If beinga liberal citizen is not incompatiblewith holding religious belief (as liberals commonly point out), then training a child for liberal citizenship

(liberal education)cannot be incompatiblein principle with bringing that child up in a

given religion; all we can say is that it may be incompatiblein practiceif the religious

upbringing conflicts with the public interestor with the chiUs interests. I shall argue later that the religious upbringing of some children may actually be in the public

interest. So what justification do the many contemporaryliberal educationalistswho opposethe religious upbringing of children offer for their views? T'hejustification

104 ChapterFive appearsto be basedon the protection of the public interest from potential rather than actualdanger. However,interfering with the liberty of individuals to protectthe public interestfrom potentialdanger is generallyconsidered totalitarian. There may be a few borderlinecases where such legislation is justifiable (e.g. seatbelts and crashhelmets) but only in caseswhere private interests(avoiding unnecessaryrisks to life and limb) and public interests (avoiding unnecessarymedical expense)clearly coincide, and where the public benefit (saving of public funds) is not potential but real and quantifiable. Theseconditions do not hold in the attemptto deny parentsthe right to

bring up their childrenin their own religiousbeliefs.

There is no way of claiming that educationshould or can be providedentirely on the basis of the public interest. Although schools are publicly financed and

administered,they invariably provide instruction in excessof what is requiredby the

public interest; Strike suggeststhat in providing this additional educationschools are actingon behalfof the parents(in their role aspaternalist agents), not the state:

It is inappropriatefor the stateto usethefact that it supportsor administers

schoolsthat servethe public interestin order to extendits authority over the private componentsof education.

(1982a,p 160-1)

The argumentis that educationinvolves the transmissionof both public and private

values (religion belonging to the latter category);if the state tries to promote private

values, this would have to be done from a neutral standpoint as far as the good of

pupils was concerned;but'public schoolscannot be effective in allowing individualsto

develop their own view of the good while remaining neutral concerning the good!

(Strike, 1982b,p 13). 1 shall discussthe distinction betweenprivate and public values later in the chapter(and more fully in ChapterNine), but it is clearly a hopelesstask to

searchfor a commonframework of private valueswithin societyat large. However,in

105 ChapterFive view of thejustification of parentalpaternalism given above,it is enoughthat the private values promotedwithin any given school should be ones approvedby the individual parentsor trusteesconcerned. The implications of this argumentwill be exploredin more detail later in the thesis; it has already been developedfurther than neededto establish the point at issue here, that if it is acceptedthat education involves the transmissionof both public andprivate values,then it cannotbe arguedthat a religious

upbringingnecessarily conflicts with the public interest.

Finally, if the public interestrequires that all relevantinterests should be weighed

fairly and impartially andthat sectionalinterests should not be promotedat the expense

of society as a whole (Benn and Peters,1959, p 271-3), then it may be in the public interest for the children of religious believersto be brought up in their parents!faith.

The alternative - that all children irrespective of parents'beliefs should be given a religiously neutral, seculareducation - might give an unfair advantageto thosewhose parentshave brought them up in a secularhumanist tradition and might discriminate unjustly againstthe children of believerswhose emotional and social stability might be

put under greater strain as they find themselvespulled in two directions at once. It

would be hard to justify suchdiscrimination in terms of the public interest;whether it could bejustified in term of the interestsof the child must now be explored.

****

Before we can ask whether bringing children up in the religion of their parents

would infringe the bestinterests of thosechildren, we must considerin what sensethe

children haveinterests. There is no clear liberal perspectiveon this as thereis no clear

liberal perspective on childhood, though Kleinig (1982, p 197 ff) attempts some

clarification of the problems. There are a numberof debateswithin liberalism relating

to childrenand their rights andinterests. The first concernsthe extentto which children can be consideredfree. P White (1983, p 139-41)insists on talking of the autonomy

106 ChapterFive

(not potential autonomy)of the child, while JS Mill excludeschildren along with barbarians,slaves and the delirious from his principles of liberty (1972b,ch 1), saying that they cannotbe the bestjudges of their own interests.The seconddebate is between those who hold that each individual child has his own unique nature and requires freedomto find or createthe life that best suits his nature,and thosewho hold that all children are born the samebut achieveindividuality by the differential organisationof this common endowment; on the latter view, children's individuality is initially constructedfor them and later developedby themselves(cf Gaus, 1983,p 33 f). The third debateis the one betweenpaternalism and children!s rights. Assumptionsabout the justifiability of parentalpaternalism are questionedby child liberationistssuch as

Holt (1975), who have argued that children should have the right to decide for themselvesmatters which affect themmost directly. Partly as a result of the influence of the liberationists the dividing line betweenchildhood and adulthood is gradually being eroded (cf Harris, 1982b;Postman, 1983). The recent emphasison children's rights (Wald 1979;Houlgate, 19 80; Wringe, 1981) hasled to family relationshipsbeing increasingly discussedin terms of the conflicting rights and interestsof parentsand children (Ackerman,1980, pp 151-4). This is because,as pointed out in ChapterFour, rights are not usually invoked exceptto redressinjustice, and the injustice sufferedby children is usually at the handsof thosewho make decisionson their behalf (i. e. the parents). Sincechildren haveno power to supporttheir own rights, the stateintervenes on their behalf when it seesfit. Statepaternalism is typically seenin the child-saving movement (Freeman, 1983, p 29-35; Goldstein et al, 1973,1979,1986), with its emphasison the protection of children from inadequatecare. However, the debate comes a full circle with Goodman's claim (1971) that talk of children's 'rights' obscurestheir more fundamentalneeds for love and security. The unhappysituation of children, he says,

is not something to cope with polemically or to understand in terms of Ireedom', 'democracy, 'rights'and 'power, like bringing lawyers into a

107 ChapterFive

family quarrel.It has to be solvedby wise traditions in organic communities

with considerablestability, with equity insteadof law and compassionmore thaneither.

A middle-of-the-roadliberal view considerschildren to be persons,objects of respect,and endsin themselves,but seesthem as autonomous,rational, moral agents only in the senseof belongingto the classof beings who sharethose characteristics: their capacity in this respect is 'unactualised potential' (Strike, 1982a, p 126). However, they are not 'adults in miniature! (Goldstein et al, 1973, p 13), and their growth to autonomous,rational moral agencyis not in a straightline. 11eir immaturity may show itself in an inability to judge the consequencesof their acts, to apply appropriate standardswhen judging action or to apply self-control - and also in irrational appraisalsof situations and in changing psychological states,including distorted emotional responses,inability to postpone gratification and changing developmentalneeds. It is the fact that they are objects of respectand that they are potential autonomousrational moral agentsthat justifies us in talking of the interestsof the child. It is the fact that children are immature and only potentially rational and autonomousthat makesthem dependenton adults for the early yearsof their life. It is this combination of interests and dependencethat provides the justification for paternalisnL

The interestsof children are, of course,not necessarilyparamount in decision-

making which affects them. In mattersin which the public interest is involved (for

example, the financing of education), the interests of an individual child must be

weighedagainst those of other childrenand other interestedparties such as the stateand

the broadersociety. Within the family, the child!s interestsare weighed againstthose of other membersof the family. But in those situations where the parent is acting paternalistically (i. e. as trusteeof the child!s interests),she is bound to seekthe best interestsof the child. There may be some situationsin which a parent finds herself

108 ChapterFive wearing three hats simultaneously in a context of family decision-making: representativeof her own interests,trustee of the interestsof her child, and objective arbiterof theseperhaps conflicting interests.On a liberal view, this is a major problem, resolvableonly by the appointmentof an eagle-eyedstate as refereeready to blow the whistle on the slightestsuspicion of a foul. The problem may recede,however, if we acknowledgethe existenceof valueswhich are supernumeraryto the liberal framework describedin ChapterFour-, for in a wider moral context of love, care and concern(cf Kleinig, 1982,p 207), parentsmay, for example,make sacrificesfor their children and seeka better future for them than they had themselves.I shall arguelater in the thesis that a liberalism which failed to take accountof such possibilities would provide an impoverishedview of society.

If we concede,however, that children have rights as potentially autonomous

agents,and that parents,at least when they are wearing their trusteehat, are bound to take into account the interestsof the child, there is still a difficulty in establishing

where,exactly, the interestsof the child lie. Coonsand Sugarman(1978, ch 3) have shownthat there is no generalconsensus about the bestinterests of the child. Bridges (1984,p 56-7) extendstheir argumentby suggestingthat the liberal attemptto establish

criteria by which the pursuit of autonomy, and thus the neutral presentation of alternativeconceptions of the good life to children,can be objectivelyjustified, may be seenas just one more challengeableversion of what is good for children. If liberals claim that thosewho opposetheir views are simply wrong, their opponents(religious fundamentalistsor Marxists,for example)will claim the sameabout the liberal view and

will presentalternative justifications for their own. Bridges(ibid, p 57) concludes,

We are faced then with a conflict of world view which cannot be resolved

except within a framework of premises which constitute one such world view and thereforecannot (unlessperhaps by a convenientcoincidence of opinions)resolve conflicts betweensuch views.

109 ChapterFive

In PartThree and particularly in ChapterNine, I shall explorewhether there is any way of avoidingsuch strident defence of entrenchedpositions, whether there are values which Muslims and liberals actually share,and whetherthere is any possibility of real dialogueabout education between those who hold a liberal perspectiveand thosewho hold an Islamic. But the presentchapter and the next are concernedwith exploring whetherthe educationaldemands of religious fundamentalistssuch as the Muslims can be met to their own satisfactionwithin a liberal world view.

Many liberals would wish to arguewith Coonsand Sugarman'sclaim aboutthe indeterminacyof children'sinterests, and would wish to claim that at least one thing, the developmentof personal and moral autonomy, is in the general interest of all children (Crittenden,1978; McLaughlin, 1984). Of course,it is not sufficient to argue

that childrenare potentially autonomous and that we havea duty to help themto achieve their potential,for they may be potentiallyracist or murderous;the decisionto help them to achievethe particular potential of personal and moral autonomyrequires a prior judgementabout the value of this potential. This prior judgementmay be basedon the

claim that children have a right to certain 'primary goods',among which would be an educationdesigned to give thema knowledgeof competingconceptions of the goodlife and to developtheir capacityto choosefreely andrationally betweenthem (cf Bridges, 1984,p 56; Gutmann, 1980). According to Rawls, paternalistic decisions,as far as theseare justified,

are to be guidedby the individual's own settledpreferences and interestsin

sofar as they are not irrational, orfailing a knowledgeof these(as in the

case of children), by the theory of primary goods. As we know less and lessabout a person, we actfor him as we would actfor ourselvesfrom the standpointof the original Position.

(1972, pp 209,248-50)

110 ChapterFive

A primary good is somethingrational people want whatever else they want - rights andliberties, opportunities and powers, income and wealth and self-respect(ibid, pp 62,92). This list of primary goodsmay thus be takento provide the generalcriteria 'accordingto which we can judge the interest of personsunder paternalism!(Strike, 1982b,p 135). This list alsoprovides for many liberalsthe generalcriteria accordingto which a commoncurriculum can be built. Rights, liberties and self-respectall point in the directionof personaland moral autonomy: if one is to help children to be free to do something,they must be helpedto developthe power and the meansto do it. White (1973) and others have argued that people can make an informed choice between alternativeactivities and ways of life only if they havebeen introduced to the rangeof possibilities. A child can becomea responsiblecitizen in a democraticsociety only by meansof a basic generaleducation of sufficient breadth and openness. Similarly, certain fundamentalskills and knowledge are necessaryif individuals are to prosper economicallyin our society(cf Crittenden,1982, p 7).

Liberalism can thus produce a framework of both public and personalvalues which can elucidatethe interestsof the child and therebyprovide a basisfor educational decision-making.7be public valuesinvolve preparationfor citizenshipin a democratic society;the child is to cometo understand,and developa commitmentto, thosevalues in the broadersociety which canjustifiably be claimed as universally appropriate.The personalvalues involve the developmentof personaland moral autonomy,based on rationality combinedwith the child's right to freedomand self-respect:the child needs to becomeaware of the diversity of beliefs and lifestyles that exist in the world and to developthe capacityto makerational, informed choices between alternatives.

The main question now is whether this is an adequate characterisation of education,whether all that is important in the educationalprocess can be characterised within this framework of public and personalvalues. I shall arguethat at least on an

Islamic perspective,the frameworkis incomplete,and that educationinvolves a third set

III ChapterFive of valueswhich I shall call communityvalues. Thesevalues are not (completely)open to rational analysis, but are linked to the 'private' values mentioned earlier in the chapter. They tend to be sharedby groups of individuals such as families or the adherentsof a particularreligion. They arelearnt - more often perhapspicked up rather than directly taught - by the younger membersof the group from the older. This categoryof valuesincludes most religions and somemoral beliefs. I shall discussthe concept of community values much more fully in Chapter Nine, but for now two exampleswill help to clarify what I meanby the term.

First, P White (1983, p 142) arguesthat parents should have the duty of the primary educationof the child because'as a matter of fact most people seemto like having childrenand bringing themup' and

they enjoy family life and a great source of their sense of leading a worthwhile life comesfrom bringing up their children, teaching them all kinds of things,playing with themand so on.

These seem hopelessly inadequategrounds for leaving the primary education of

children to their parents;one would not leavechildren to the mercy of a child-molester or pervert simply becausehe enjoyed having children or playing with them. An adequatecharacterisation would have to include reference to the fact that parents generally have a greater commitment to the well-being of their own children than anyone else. Yet such a commitment (which I would call a community value) is

inexplicablein termsof the liberal frameworkof valuesset out in ChapterFour. To put

it another way, the random assignationof newborn babies to families at birth (cf

Fishkin, 1983,p 57) would equaliselife chancesand be quite justifiable from the point

of view of Rawls' original position. Our revulsion at the idea, whether it is natural or

socially constructed,can only be explainedin terms of community values. A second

examplecan be seenin a situationin which one only has time to rescuefrom a blazing

112 ChapterFive house either one's aged mother or a medical professor at the height of his career.

Utilitarianism would insist on rescuingthe latter, egalitarianismwould insist that both had an equalright to be savedand thereforefavour randomchoice. Only community valueswould providegrounds in termsof ties of affectionand loyalty that mightjustify what would otherwisemerely be an instinctivereaction, to rescueone! s agedmother.

Liberalism of coursecannot totally ignore the fact that community valuesform part of the interestof the child, nor doesit seekto. 'Me questionis simply how much weight should be given to community values in education,compared to public and personalvalues. I shall distinguishthreeanswers to this, the first two being compatible with liberalism,the third not.

First, community values may be conceivedmerely as a meansto achievingthe

liberal endsof public andpersonal values. This appearsto be Pat White!s position, but

would also take in arguments about children needing a stable base to avoid disorientation,and aboutinvolvement in a tradition providing the best groundingfrom

which autonomymight develop(cf McLaughlin, 1984).

Secondly,community values may indeedbe consideredvalues in their own right, without which the life of individuals would be impoverished. Nevertheless,they are secondary to the public and pesonal values which liberalism proclaims, such as autonomy,and cannot be promotedin schoolsat the expenseof the latter. Ibis appears

to be McLaughlin'sposition: parentsmay'introduce their children to a substantiveset

of practices,beliefs and values' so long as they do not lose sight of the goal of their children'seventual autonomy (1984, p 78-9).

Thirdly, communityvalues may be consideredof prior importance,so that other values can only be understoodwithin the parametersthat they legitimise. Religious

valuesare paradigmatic here: a religion typically providesa comprehensiveviewpoint

113 ChapterFive from which perspectiveon other areasof life is gained (Strike, 1982b,p 88). The autonomyof the subjector disciplinecan no longerbe guaranteedon this third approach if there is a clash with fundamentalreligious values. The meaning of personaland moral autonomymay also have to be reassessedto ensurethat it does not provide a meansfor underminingfundamental community values (cf Halstead,1986, ch 4). Ilis third approachwould not necessitateany rejection of public values,however. indeed religious believersmay becomemodel citizens, both in the senseof participationand in the senseof being law-abiding. From a religious point of view, theremay be as much value in creating an ethos in which community values might be picked up as in the direct transmissionof thesevalues. Any suchstructured approach to the transmission of community valueswould be in contrastto contemporarystate schools where such communityvalues as arelearned tend to be picked up from peersin agewhose culture, accordingto Strike (1982b),is characterisedby ignorance,lack of insight, shallowness of experienceand rejection of adult sourcesof insight and experience;contemporary stateschools thus 'seemideal institutions for a society that wishesto commit cultural suicide' (p89). A much fuller examination of community values and of their relationshipto rationality andeducation will be providedin ChapterNine.

However, it is hoped that enough has been said in this present chapter for an answerto be given to the questionwhether bringing children up in the religion of their

parents would infringe the best interests of those children. On a liberal view, a religious upbringing along the lines of the first and secondapproaches outlined above would be acceptable,whereas one alongthe lines of the third would not. The centrality

of autonomyto the liberal view deniesthe right of 'any power holder to inculcatean

uncritical acceptanceof any conceptionof the good life' (Ackerman, 1980,p 163). In

so far as Islam is a fundamentalistreligion which valuesthe acceptanceof a particular

conceptionof the goodmore highly than autonomyor critical openness,we can say that on a liberal view Muslim parentsdo not havethe right to bring up their childrenin their own religion.

114 ChapterFive

PartThree will examinewhether this is in fact an accuratecharacterisation of the

Muslim position,and if it is, what the consequencesare for dialoguebetween Muslims and liberals and for the educationof Muslim children in a predominantlynon-Muslim society. Finally, in ChapterTen, I shall considerwhether, even if Muslims do not have the moral right, on a liberal view, to seek to bring up their children as unreflective believers, they may neverthelessbe allowed to do it, since the coercion neededto prevent a religious upbringing may be even more offensive to fundamentalliberal principles. But first I want to look at the questionwhether on a liberal view the Muslim community hasa right to seekto preserve,maintain and transmit its beliefs andvalues intact in a non-Muslimsociety. This forms the topic of ChapterSix.

115 CHAPTERSIX

A LIBERAL VIEW OF MUSLIM COMMUNITY RIGHTS

The last chapterwas concernedwith a liberal view of the rights of Muslims as parents to bring up their children in their own religion. The present chapter is concernedwith a liberal view of the rights of Muslims as membersof a distinct religious group to educatethe children born into that group in a way that is in keeping with, and helps to preserve,its own distinctive beliefs and values. Both parentsand religious communitiesare 'social groups',but thereis a significant differencebetween them. Perhapsthis difference can be best illustrated by reference to a series of questions(for severalof which I am indebtedto Lustgarten,1983, p 98-100):

-Should local authorities provide facilities for single-sex swimming in, public swimmingpools andbaths in responseto Muslim requests?

-Shouldemployees be allowedtime off from work to perform the daily prayersor to attend mosque on Friday mornings in accordancewith the requirementsof the Muslim faith?

-Should the physical mutilation of infants (such as the Muslim practice of circumcision) be permitted for religious reasons?

-Should separateslaughter-houses be provided for Muslims so that halal meat may be producedlocally for the Muslim community?

116 ChapterSix

being built in British be -Should the minaretson the new mosquesnow cities allowed to broadcastthe call to prayer five times daily in accordancewith Muslim wadition?

law be Muslims in U.K.? -ShouldMuslim personal applicableto the

in Parliament by -Should Muslims be granted a voice allowing them representationin proportionto the sizeof the Muslim communityin the U.K.?

be its -Should the Muslim community allowed to set up own voluntary-aided schools in the U.K. along the lines of those already run by the Roman Catholic, Anglican andJewish communities?

Ilese questionshave much in common. They all involve the question of the freedom of Muslims to act in accordancewith their religious convictions and the establishedway of life of their community, and they all involve the questionof the relationshipbetween minority groupsand the broadersociety, and what assistancethe Muslim communitycan expectfrom the broadersociety as it strivesto preserveits own beliefs andvalues and perpetuate its own existence.But the first four questions(Group

A) can be distinguishedfrom the last four (Group B). Justicerequires that if the rights

under demand in the first four questionsare to be concededat all, they should be concededto Muslims as a group (andto anyoneelse with a similar interestin the right). But oncethe right hasbeen conceded, the choicewhether to exercisethe right or not lies

with the individual (though,of course,in practicethe individual may be underpressure from the groupto conform).The right claim in the former casecan thereforebe justified from the point of view of the stateon the groundsof the fair treatmentof individuals

andthe freedomof individualsto reject certaincurrent social practices on conscientious groundsand to chooseinstead to act in accordancewith their own beliefs. The rights

under demand in the last four questions,on the other hand, cannot be justified in

117 ChapterRr individualisticterms, because they cannotcoherently be exercisedby individuals,since they affect the whole groupwilly-nilly. If permissionis granted,for example,for the call to prayerto be madefrom a minaret,it will be heardin all the streetsin the locality, whetheror not eachindividual resident wishes to hearit.

11is is exactly the distinction betweenthe right of Muslim parentsto bring up their childrenin their own religion and the right of the Muslim communityto preserve its beliefs andvalues by transmittingthese to the next generationthrough a systemof education. In the former case Muslim parents are seeking the right to make an individual choice to bring their children up in the faith (or to delegatethis task to approvedteachers); the fact that this is expressedin termsof individual freedomof choicemakes this a goal that liberalscould be expectedto havemuch sympathywith. The main hesitationthat liberals would have in allowing this right, as was seenin ChapterFive, is that other humanbeings are involved in the decisionas well as the parents- andthe rights of thoseother persons (the children) must be protectedas well. In the latter case,however, the Muslims are makinga rights claim which can only be takenadvantage of as a group. Liberalswould haveless sympathywith sucha claim becauseof fearsthat the groupmight be oppressiveof individual freedom.'Mey would alsobe worried aboutthe possiblefragmentation of societyand would wish to ensure that the groupwas not settingitself up asa rival to the state.

Both liberalism and contemporary democratic practice are invariably more sympathetic to group rights of the former category than to those of the latter. It is no coincidencethat the first four in the samplelist of rights claimed by Muslims are coming to be allowed in someparts of the U. K. while the last four are consistentlyrejected. Of course,the right to circumcise maleshas historically beenrecognised much longer than the others - probably mainly because of non-liberal considerations such as long- standingbiblical prejudice, the wide extent of the practice, argumentsbased on hygiene and the impossibility of enforcing legislation outlawing the practice. Otherwise, of the

118 ChapterS& four Group A-type rights, it is perhaps the one that liberals would accept most reluctantly (and female circumcision even more so), as it appearsto be an assaulton the privacy of the individual. A liberal case in support of male circumcision would presumably be developedin terms of personal identity. The other Group A rights may perhapsbe concededby liberals on the basisof the second-bestprinciple (cf Ackerman,

1980; Crittenden, 1982, p 45 ff); if Muslims are not prepared to participate fully in the life of the broader society, it may be better to grant them certain rights which will encouragepartial participation than to see them withdraw into complete isolationism.

The Group B rights, on the other hand, have more fundamental difficulties inherent in them from a liberal point of view, especially the application of Muslim personal law.

Their rejection is not unexpected, for contemporary social legislation reflects an ideology of liberal individualism, and tendsto be sympathetictowards any rights claims that can be understood in terms of individuals and wary of any which belong only to groups. For an explanation of this bias towards the individual, we need to look again at the framework of liberal values.

Crittendenpoints out that

In classical liberal theory there was no commitmentto intermediate groups

as essential constituentsof a corporate society. Thefundamental units are

individuals and the state. The former make up an aggregate whose

collective will is expressedby the state.

(1982, p 13)

This explains the liberal tendency to talk of 'community' (i. e. the aggregate whose

collective will is expressedby the state)rather than 'communities' (i. e. the intermediate

groups). In so far as they are acknowledged, the intermediate groups are seen as

formed in accordancewith the will of individual participants. Their purpose is seen

wholly in instrumental terms: to protect and advancethe interests of individuals (for

119 ChapterSix example,trade unions). On this account,individuals co-operateonly for the sakeof pursuing their private goals, and as Rawls points out, 'each person assessessocial arrangementssolely asa meansto his privateaims' (1972, p 521).

Contemporary liberalism, on the other hand, has come to place more value on

groups and has moved away from the idea that 'individuality and sociability are lopposites' in tension! (Gaus, 1983, p 108). This has come about for a variety of reasons. First, groups have been recognised as an important contributor to an

individual's identity and self-concept (cf Sandel, 1982, p 150; Swann Rel2ort, 1985, p

3). Secondly,human beings need social contact, tend to value common institutions and

activities, and do in fact have shared final ends (Rawls, 1972, pp 441,522). Rawls

goes further (ibid, p 523) and argues that only through co-operation can humanity

realise its potential, as individuals participate in the sum of the realised natural assetsof

the others (a point neatly illustrated by my referenceto his work here). Rawls calls this

process 'social union' and argues that a well-ordered society will contain countless

social unions of many different kinds; he sees the state as 'a social union of social

unions' (ibid, p 527). Thus we arrive at the idea of pluralism.

The notion of pluralism fits well with contemporaryliberalism in the sensethat it

follows naturally from the acceptanceof freedom of thought and expression,freedom

of conscience and religion and freedom of peaceful assembly as human rights.

Pluralism is seen as a way of preserving freedom from oppression by a powerful

central governmentor by crude majoritarianism. Pluralism involves the encouragement

of diversity as good for the health of democracy, indeed, as the very essence of

democracy. Such diversity, however, as we shall see, can only be celebrated (on a

liberal view) under certain conditions: one obvious example, provided by Marcuse

(1965, p 90), is that indiscriminate tolerance may become a license for intolerance by

facilitating the existence of groups that deny fundamental liberal values such as

freedom,justice and equality. Freedomtherefore can be granted to groups, on a liberal

120 ChapterAx view, only if the groups satisfy certain conditions (cf Jenkins, 1980,pp 241,263). Theseconditions include respect for individual freedom(including freedomof action, freedomof conscience,freedom to leavethe group);recognition that othergroups have the right to enjoy the samefreedoms and privilegesthat it enjoysfor itself within the wider society;and respect for the interestsof the wider society(which presupposesa commitmentto certainsocial and moral values, such as justice andan acceptanceof the rule of law). Any discussionof pluralismtherefore involves the interplaybetween the freedomof the individual, the freedomof the group and the interestsof the broader society;but evenon a contemporaryliberal view, it is the freedomof the groupwhich mostfrequently has to give way in the faceof constraintsfrom theother two.

Ile aim of the presentchapter is to elucidate further the conditions which a group

must satisfy on a liberal view, and to consider a Muslim responseto these criteria of

acceptability. The main question is whether the Muslim community in the U. K. would

be prepared to submit to those conditions in exchange for being granted the right to preserveits own beliefs and values by transmitting theseto the next generationthrough

public education, or whether these conditions are fundamentally in conflict with the

Muslim faith. In this case,the acceptanceof the conditions would be incompatible with

the preservationintact of the faith.

The presentchapter will be divided into four sections: first, an examination of the

nature of pluralism, the rights of groups and the role of the state vis-a-vis groups;

secondly,the conditions under which, on a liberal view, pluralism is justifiable; thirdly,

an examination of the Swann ReRort's responseto the issue of the rights of the Muslim

community, as an exampleof a schemeof educationalpolicy basedon a liberal view of

pluralism; and finally, a Muslim responseto the views expressedin the Swann Re]Rort.

pointing to fundamentaldisagreements over values.

****

121 ChapterSix

It is clearthat whetherby birth, choiceor chanceall humanbeings are members of a variety of different groups,and that thesegroups have shared characteristics which distinguishthem from other groups(cf SwannRel2ort, 1985, p 3). Thus a personmay be a teenager,a Northerner, a homosexual,a woman, black, a greengrocer,an Oxonian, middle class, an anorexic,a householder,a snooker-player,a Mensan,a Buddhist,married, a vegetarian,a Conservative,a criminal, andmay Oustconceivably) be all of theseat the sametime. Only someof thesegroups, however, are universally considerededucationally significant (for example,those based on age),though a case may also be madeout for the educationalsignificance of sex, of district, of race, of religion, of intelligence,of criminality, of medicalcondition, of artistic interests,of (future) occupationor evenof social class. Further,only someof thesegroups gain sufficient cohesivenessfrom their common characteristic to be considered a community; for example,there is no community of householdersor of married people. The conceptof 'community'is a complex one, as will becomeclear in the courseof the presentchapter, but for now I shall considera communityto be a group distinguishedby a commonlocation, a commoninterest or a commonphysical attribute (cf Chattedee, 1983). Membership of an ethnic group on these terms involves belongingto a community. An ethnic group can be characterisedby sharedphysical attributes(such as skin colour) and by a sharedcultural way of life; in this senseit is possibleto talk of a West Indian community. Membershipof a world religion also involves belongingto a community;for althoughthe group may be multi-racial and muld-cultural(cf Ashraf, 1986a),it is boundtogether by a commonset of beliefsand valuesand a commonway of life.

These distinctions are important when we come to consider contemporary

pluralism in the U. K., for there are many ways in which a society may be pluralist.

Ile Swann ReRort associatespluralism with multi-racialism (DES, 1985, pp 5,8).

Other writers (including Crittenden, 1982) have stressedcultural pluralism, that is,

the acceptancewithin a society of differences in the beliefs, values, traditions and

122 ChapterSU practices to which membersof that society have a commitment. Political pluralism is about the relations between different communities within a state and the degree of authority exercised over them by the state. Religious pluralism occurs when a number of groups with differing religious beliefs exist side by side in a (supposedly) secular state. Nonetheless, these different forms of pluralism 'share important theoretical ground and are closely related in practice' (Crittenden, 1982, p 15). This tendency of different forms of pluralism to overlap is seenin comments by Bullivant

(1984, p 71) and Martin (1976) on structural pluralism. Structural pluralism, they argue,may be required to guaranteethe continuation of cultural pluralism, but structural pluralism has institutional, socio-political implications. It is thus possible to discuss pluralism in general terms (as the Swann Rep= does), although it is sometimes necessaryto specify exactly what type of pluralism is under discussion.

Various attempts have been made by social and political theorists to justify the placing of greater stresson the group than liberalism allows, but, as we shall see,none of theseattempts is directly related to the dominant form of pluralism in British society - the presencealongside the indigenous majority of ethnic minority groups with diverse and sometimes opposed cultural values and ways of life. Nicholls (1974,1975) has distinguishedthree types of social and political pluralism which stressthe importanceof

the group. For the sakeof simplicity I shall call thesethe English model, the American

model and the colonial model. Each model is concerned to explain the type of unity which exists, or which ought to exist, within given states, and with the relationship

betweenunity and diversity within a state.

Ile English Model of pluralism is based on the work of a group of English political thinkers in the early years of the presentcentury, particularly JN Figgis, FW

Maitland, the early Harold Laski and GDH Cole. Their ideas can be traced back to

Aristotle's argumentsagainst Plato's conviction that the stateshould be a'totally unified

entity' (Barker, 1962, pp 40,51). Aristotle saw the state as an aggregation of

123 ChapterAx communitiesof different kinds. Their ideas can also be seenin the structureof medieval society, where cities, universities,guilds and monasteriesenjoyed a high degreeof independencefrom centralisedauthority. Crittendenpoints out that mostof the ideasof the Englishpluralists had alreadybeen set out somethree hundred years earlier by Althusius (1557-1638) in his 'Politics', although his work was not immediatelyinfluential. In particularhe claimedthat'the existenceof many typesof associationwithin the societyencourages a rich andenvigorating diversity' (Crittenden, 1982,p 12). Perhapsthe morerecent ancestry of the Englishpluralists should also take in Hegel (cf Singer,1983).

The English pluralists were primarily opposedto what I earlier called the'classical liberal theory', i. e. the belief that the only significant entities were the individual and the

state. Groups, they maintained, had an existence which did not derive from the state but which equally could not be understoodfully in terms of the lives of their individual

members. They saw these groups - whether cultural, religious, economic, civic or

other - as voluntary associationswhich the individual could freely join or withdraw from. The assumption was that most people would belong to a number of different

groups, with cross-cutting membership; thus people of different races might belong to

the same trade unions, and people of differing religious persuasionsmight share the

same leisure interests. Ile pluralists argued that such groups are part of the healthy

existenceof a state,and that without them liberty was unlikely to be meaningful. Ile three basicprinciples of English pluralism thus are:

that liberty is the most important political value, and that it is best preservedby

power being dispersedamong many groups in the state;

(ii) that groups should be regarded as persons (i. e. having a separate legal existence);

124 ChapterSix

(iii) that ideas of statesovereignty should be rejected (Nicholls, 1974,p 5).

According to Figgis, the stateis best seenas a communitascommunitatum, a term which had earlier been used by TH Green (Nicholls, 1975, p 77) and which, as we have already seen,was later picked up by Rawls. But Figgis goes further and suggests that 'men are membersof the state only through their membership of societies like the church, the trade union or the family' (Nicholls, 1975, p 79). The authority of the state to regulate and control group activities was not denied,but the pluralists insisted that the state had a corresponding duty to protect the freedom of individuals to 'pursue substantive goals through groups' (Nicholls, 1974, p 3), and to respect the internal development and functioning of the group (Figgis, 1913, pp 121-4). Finally, they believed that the statewas not infallible, and that there might be times when groups are justified in resisting the state(Nicholls, 1974, p 14).

Turning to the American Model of pluralism, we find that the work of Bentley,

Truman, Dahl and other theorists appearsto be mainly concernedto explain andjustify

the political system actually in operation in the United States. Political decisions are

reached by competing groups attempting to influence the policy of government at

different levels in the interests of their own members, for example, by expensive

electioneering or by civil rights campaigns (Nicholls, 1974). The state is seen as 'a

regulator and adjustor among them; defining the limits of their actions, preventing and

settling conflicts! (Dewey, 1920, p 203), though sometimes the state may get 'caught

up into active participation' in the struggle between groups (Nicholls, 1974,p 2). Even

more than in the English model, the state is considered as made up of a cross-cutting

web of politically significant groups. Thus Kornhauser (1960) denies that medieval

stateswere pluralist, becausegroups such as the monasteriesand colleges had little or

no cross-cuttingmembership with other groups. American critics of pluralism (such as

Wolff, 1968, and Marcuse, 1968) do not opposepluralism as an ideal, but deny that in

practice the U. S. political system, though depicted as pluralist, actually works in the

125 ChapterSix best interests of the whole population or protects the rights of all groups impartially.

Indeed, Marcuse sees the 'harmonising pluralisrif of the United States as a manifestationof a new totalitarianism (ibid, p 61).

I'he Colonial Model of Pluralism is less clear cut. Although Nicholls talks of the

'theorists of the plural society' (1974, p 3), this term is misleading becausethe social anthropologists and sociologists who make up this group (e.g. JS Furnivall, JH

Boeke, MG Smith and L Despres)are more concernedto describe a pluralist situation than justify it. Indeed, when they move beyond description, it seems to be in the direction of suggestingways in which countries can 'depluralise'. Moreover, they are

not concernedwith what are thought of as pluralist societies in the contemporary West

(industrial societies with disadvantaged ethnic minority groups) but mainly with

colonial or post-colonial territories such as Burma or the Dutch East Indies, which

contain different racial or ethnic groups.

On this model, group affiliations do not form a cross-cutting network or web, but

reinforce one another so that the stateis made up of different segments,separated from

each other by social, cultural, religious and racial factors. Consequently,the members

of the groups live almost all their lives within their own group, meeting members of

other groups only 'in the market place'. The whole state is kept together by two

factors: by a common economic system,and by force. Ibis type of group afffliation is

generally considered most likely to manifest intense and violent conflicts (cf Dahrendorf, 1959).

None of the three models directly capturesthe nature of the pluralism which (in

the words of Lustgarten, 1983, p 98) 'has become the dominant characteristic of

twentieth century states: ethnic pluralism within the framework of a united polity'.

And none of the three models can provide an answer to what has become one of the

most pressing contemporary issues (to use Lustgarten's words again): 'how, within

126 ChapterSix the overarching political unity, are conflicts engenderedby the co-existenceof diverse, and at times opposed, cultural values and ways of life to be resolvedT On the other hand, all of the models help to shed light on the difficulties faced as a result of the existence of sizable ethnic minorities in the U. K. (as in other states). Where ethnic identity is paralleled by corresponding patterns of dwelling, occupation, language, religion, dress and recreation, the group is set apart from outsiders as having a distinctive cultural identity and way of life. Crittenden (1982, p3 1) presents a fuller picture of this 'insular pluralisrd. Such segmentalisation of society along ethnic divisions has much in common with the Colonial Model, except that we do not expect a democratic society to use force to hold the state together, unless in exceptional circumstances, as the use of force in such a context would offend fundamental democratic values. But what options other than force are open to a liberal state? The

American Model is unlikely to provide the solution if Wolff s criticism of it is valid; he claims (1968, p 149,152) that the American system of pluralism favours well established groups which subscribe to uniform cultural patterns. The new ethnic minorities often lack the power, skill and resources to urge their cause against

entrenchedinterests; and if the government attemptsto redressthe balanceby positive

discrimination and compensatory programmes, these may be resented by the ethnic

majority, and in any case the justification of such actions is open to question. As Van

den Berghe (1967) points out, social pluralism in the United Statesin practice depends

on a considerable degree of cultural uniformity - and it is precisely such uniformity which is lacking in the ghettos of the ethnic minorities. Indeed,- the most serious

problem for the liberal state is that many of the ethnic minorities do not belong to a

cross-cutting network of groups which would facilitate interaction with members of

other ethnic communities. It is widely held (for example, by Nicholls, 1974, p 49;

Dahrendorf, 1959, p 215) that the likelihood of political and social instability and

conflict increaseswhen there is a segmentedsociety, and that it diminishes in the cross-

cutting pluralism of the English or American Models. But the English Model is also not

without its problems for contemporary pluralism: for it is hard to imagine a

127 ChapterAr contemporarystate being prepared to allow minority groupstotal freedomwith regard to their internal developmentand functioning. The state would inevitably seekto protectitself from the twin dangersof anarchyif the grouprefused to acceptthe state's authority,and of the suppressionof individual rights within the group(Selznick, 1969, p 38).

Is it possible in the present situation of ethnic pluralism in the U. K. to take on board the advantagesof the English Model while avoiding its dangers? Nicholls (1974, p 61) draws attention to the difficulties. In his analysis, originally homogeneousstates have virtually disappeared in the aftermath of imperialism and in attempts at modemisation. These states have moved towards one of three possibilities: segmentation(with its risk of instability and conflict); the 'mass society'. where group loyalties are minimal and individuals are isolated and impotent (which Nicholls seesas potentially totalitarian); or cross-cuttingpluralism. But if there is no tradition of the last of these among the ethnic minority groups, what steps could the state take to achieve this ? One possibility is for the government of a country to adopt a policy of rehomogenisation, aiming at national integration through an extension of state- controlled institutions; these might include new welfare programmes, anti-racist policies, inner city redevelopmentand particularly a common educationfor all - aiming at greater homogeneity and greater interdependencein the next generation. Another, more radical, possibility is to createa society in which everyoneparticipates fully in the decisions. But both these solutions may be perceived by minority groups as

constituting a threat to their existence or way of life by undermining their traditional

identity (cf Taylor, 1984, p 194). The resulting alienation makes it harder to achieve

the 'basic consensus,to bring everyone to the general will' which is necessary for

participatory democracy. The participation of everybody in a decision is only possible

if there is an adequate basis of common agreement, or an underlying shared goal.

Otherwise democratic participation becomes merely a cover for majoritarianism,

demanding excessiveconcessions from groups that lack the power to press their case.

128 ChapterSix

Whetherany suchground of agreementexists in the caseof the Muslim communityin the U.K. forms the subjectof PartThree of the presentthesis.

The problem cannot be ignored, however, for the evidence suggeststhat the changesin the social fabric of modem statesresulting from the arrival of immigrants andtheir families from othercultures are permanent and irreversible. A basisfor policy has to be found, if decisionsare not to be madeon purely pragmatic considerations. The frameworkof liberal valuesoutlined in ChapterFour providesone suchbasis. The next two sectionsof the presentchapter attempt to outline, first, how liberalism would seekto resolvethe problemof maintainingthe unity of the statewithout threateningthe existence of ethnic, cultural and religious minorities, and secondly, what specific educationalconsequences would result from sucha liberal approachto pluralism. Ilie chapterconcludes with a Muslim appraisalof suchan approach.

****

Liberalism doesnot prescribeone clear-cutapproach to pluralism. An approach has to be worked out which takes into considerationthe various fundamentalliberal values, and it is not surprising that different liberals, giving different weight to the various values, come to a range of different conclusions. Thus we find one liberal taking a comparativelyhard line with the ethnic minorities. He somewhatreluctantly supportsthe toleration of communitieswhose culture does not support autonomy,so long as they are 'viable communities!,but he hopesfor their gradual transformation, while at the sametime claiming that if the Iffe they offer their young is too impoverished and unrewarding,compulsory assimilation (by force if necessary)may be 'the only humanecourse' (Raz, 1986, p 423-4). On the other hand, we find another liberal arguingthat ethnic minorities shouldbe permitted'unrestricted freedom to follow their own customsand religious practices,be governedby their personallaw and receive educationin their languageand cultural tradition. 'Mis freedom would be subjectto

129 ChapterAx just two limitations: any practiceleading to severephysical abuse would be disallowed, andimpracticable institutional accommodations to minority beliefsand values would not be required(Lustgarten, 1983, p 101f). Ilie former of theseviews adoptsan approach of negativefreedom (reluctantnon-interference) whereas the latter involves positive freedom,particularly in the sphereof educationwhere the transmissionof the cultural valuesof the minority communitywould be providedout of public resources.

In this presentsection I want to explorea liberal view of pluralism which adoptsa middle pathbetween these two extremes.In particularI am concernedto establishwhat criteria must be met on a moderateliberal view, if minorities are to be allowed the freedomto preservetheir distinctivebeliefs and values by transmittingthem throughthe public systemof educationto the next generation.The view of pluralismpresented here is broadly in line with that presentedby Crittenden (1982). 1 shall use the three fundamentalliberal valuesoutlined in ChapterFour as the main frameworkof analysis.

A commitmentto the first fundamentalliberal value of respectfor the freedomof the individual placescertain restrictions on the freedomof the group to control its own internal development and functioning, and in particular rules out an oppressive relationshipbetween the group andits individual members.It is frequentlypointed out that the group can potentially be as tyrannoustowards the individual as the statecan

(Selznick, 1969, p 38; Kerr, 1955, p 14), particularly if the state'sright to interfere with groupsto protect the interestsof their membersis rejected(as it is by most of the English pluralists). Three conditions are required by the liberal position. First, the

individual shouldbe not only formally free to leavethe groupbut actuallyfree to do so, that is, free from economic,social or other pressureswhich makeit impossiblefor him

or her to do so. Secondly,the legitimateexercise of authority within a group shouldbe

subjectto the ultimate supremacyof the individual conscience.However, as Nicholls (1975,p 97) points out, this neednot meanthat the individual consciencebecomes the ultimate authority in religion, for example,but that the conscienceis the faculty for

130 ChapterAx discriminating betweenauthorities and thus avoiding blind obedience. Thirdly, the individual'sactual freedom and range of choicemust not be foreclosedby the activities, beliefs, valuesand lifestyles of the particular group into which he is born. Clearly, in practice, somegroups will merely pay lip serviceto theserequirements, while others may completelydisavow even the rhetoric. However,it is up to a liberal stateto decide whether or not to tolerate groups which infringe the requirements; in some case tolerationmay be more acceptablethan repression.

A more difficult problem arisesfor the liberal stateif the group'sway of life or systemof belief is crampingthe potentialof individuals within the group,without their apparently being aware of it. Has the state the right to interfere with the internal activities of the group under such conditions? It is here that the parting of the ways comes for liberals and the English pluralists. The latter believe that it is no more justifiable for the stateto interferewith groupsthan with individualsfor their own good; liberalson the otherhand give priority to the freedomof the individual over the freedom of the (intermediate) group, and therefore may under certain conditions condone interferencein the group in order to protect the individual. If the group'sright to exist and remain free of intervention is based on liberty, then this has important consequencesfor the exerciseof authority and power over individual group members (cf Lukes, 1974); if the group fails to respectthe freedom and rights of its members, then it is underminingthe basison which its own existenceis justified.

A commitmentto the secondfundamental liberal value, the equalright of all other individuals to similar freedom, together with its consequencesfor social life in the broadercommunity, establishesseveral preconditions for pluralism. Each group must recognisethe right of other groups and individuals to enjoy the samefreedoms and privileges that it enjoys for itself within the wider society. This presupposesa minimum set of commonvalues and standardsof behaviourwithin the wider society:

first, a basicsocial morality without which any form of sociallife would not be possible

131 ChapterAx

(in particular, a respectfor justice and a recognition that other groups have as much right as one'sown to avoid physicalpain and deathamong their members);secondly, a commitmentto valuespresupposed by the pluralist ideal (in particular,the tolerationof groupswith different ideals to one'sown and the rejection of violence as a meansof persuasion);thirdly, acceptanceof a common systemof law and governmentby all groups within the broader society (though the systemsneed not be the samefor all 'broadersocieties'), and a commitmentto seekto changethese only throughdemocratic means.

So far so good. But this minimum framework of common values is in no sensea complete schemeof social morality. It is in seeking to move beyond this minimal range of preconditions for pluralism that once again liberals part company with the English pluralists. Liberals seek to enlarge the minimum framework to include a more substantial range of values within the public area of common morality, leaving the rest

(e.g. religious beliefs) to the personal sphere of life. The pluralists, on the other hand, would not wish to expand the common framework beyond the minimum set out above, but would recognise an area of substantive moral values which was the rightful domain of the group; this domain would encroach on both the area of public values and the area of personal values on- a liberal view. I shall discuss this domain, which I call community values, more fully in Chapter Nine. Pluralists see the purpose of the minimum framework as providing'an orderly context in which separategroups can live out their own virtually autonomous lives' (Crittenden, 1982); liberals would consider such an attitude as divisive, destroying the essential unity and coherent structure of the state. Ways in which liberals would seek to enlarge the minimum framework of values include, for example, expanding the requirement of tolerance of other groups to one of diversity, welcoming and celebrating and more generally include seeking to promote the common good and the public interest (i. e. the interest of the broader society). Current debate about negotiating a framework of shared values (Haydon, 1987; White, 1981) is liberal an instance of this approach. It is easy to see how the liberal approach lends

132 ChapterSix supportto belief in a commonsystem of education. Pluralists,on the other hand,are wary of anythinglabelled the'public interest'or the'common good. They seethem as a disguise for the imposition of majority values on unwilling minorities. They are dubiousabout the possibility of creatingany set of commonvalues beyond the purely political frameworknecessary for the maintenanceof order (Nicholls, 1974,p 46,62). In so far as they see any 'common good! worth considering,they seeit as structural ratherthan substantivein nature(Nicholls, 1975,p 9-10).

Crittenden (1982) presentsthe liberal responseto this and a justification for seekingto expandthe frameworkof commonvalues. If a pluralist societyis a society, there must be interaction between its constituent groups. Political and economic systemscannot exist in isolation from cultural factors (languageis an example),and if the former characterisethe societyas a whole, thenthe latter cannotbe left totally to the society'sconstituent groups. It is impossiblefor a political order to function 'without making at least someassumptions about the ingredientsof a worthwhile humanlife' (p 30). The liberal involves 'a delicate balance between vision of pluralism ... the developmentof a distinctive common culture and the protection of diverse cultural practices' (p 35). It rejects a policy of assimilating all groups to the culture of the dominant group. However, it 'needonly tolerate,and is not required to encourage!,a senseof ethnic identity among minority groups (p 35). It requires all groups to participate'in an evolving core of commonculture' (p 35). It anticipatesthat sections of the population will increasingly'identify with the common culture and its largely secularmoral valuesrather than with particularcultural sub-groups'and that traditional

ethnic,religious or class-basedgroups will correspondinglydecline (p 37). Crittenden

is aware of a tension between his depiction of diversity as desirable and the

homogenisingtendencies of the type of pluralism he supports(p 38), but nonetheless

he believesthat'open pluralism! with its high degreeof interaction betweengroups is the only form of pluralismcompatible with liberalism(p 36).

133 ChapterSir

A commitmentto the third fundamentalliberal value, consistentrationality, is required as a meansfor the just resolution of conflict between groups, as a way of satisfyingthe requirementfor a non-violent meansof persuasion,and indeedas a way of facilitating any kind of dialogue between groups. The very intelligibility of the conceptof liberal pluralismexpounded so far dependson a commitmentto rationality. Therecould be no basisfor the searchfor an expandedframework of commonvalues if there were no public criteria of rationality againstwhich beliefs and values could be assessed.To the liberal, the value of rationality is self-evident;'it cannotbe seriously douted!says Crittenden (1982, p 42), 'that the practiceof critical, reflective rationality is preferable to any that relies largely on the unquestioningacceptance of received beliefsand the pronouncementsof establishedauthority'.

In the liberal pluralist society, critical rationality provides the common mode of thought and the means for debate about the shape of its common life. What critical rationality requires of members of the pluralist societ is an active willingness to review all beliefs and values in the light of the evidence of experience and to reject or modify them where the evidence becomes strongly weighted against them. What critical rationality does not require, as Crittenden (p 45 ff) is at pains to point out, is for individuals to be constantly calling everything into question, or to refuse to

acknowledge the possibility of areasof experience that surpassrational understanding,

or to deny the importance of feeling in human experience, or to assumethat there must

always be a single best answer to complex moral problems. In view of this last point, a

liberal pluralist society is bound to 'tolerate any moral system or way of life that is

rationally defensible% Indeed, since persuasion by force is ruled out, it is likely that a

liberal pluralist society will tolerate ways of life that are not rationally defensible so long

as these are not in conflict with fundamental liberal values such asjustice and freedom,

becauseif members of groups committed to such ways of life cannot be persuadedby

rational means to give them up, it may be the lesser of two evils merely to tolerate them

rather than attempting to remove them by force. On the other hand, groups to whose

134 ChapterAx way of life critical rationality is central are bound to find liberal pluralism more congenial than groups basedon 'commitment to a "sacred" order of authority that dominatesevery aspectof human life% To use Crittenden'swords once again, 'the price the latter mustpay for generaltoleration in a pluralist societyis the acceptanceof a public order at oddswith its fundamentalideals' (p 50 ).

A commitmentto liberalpluralism thushas profound consequences for education. In particularit rules out the uncritical presentationof any conceptof the goodor of any understandingof the world and humanlife. Children of all groupsneed to be taughtto question their assumptions,to grapple with conflicting world views, to engagein rational debate,and to value diversity of tastes,interests and non-fundamentalvalues. In this sense,the needsof children do not vary accordingto the commitmentsof their parents,and thus educationcan becomea common enterprisefor the children of all groupsand communities in a pluralist society. We can now thereforeturn to the Swann Report which applies the above principles of liberal pluralism to the educational problems arising as a result of the presence of ethnic and religious minority communities in the U.K., and which develops from these principles a schemeof educationalpolicy which it entitles'Education for All'.

****

The Swann Report (DES, 1985) had among its terms of referenceto 'review in relation to schools the educational needs and attainmentsof children from ethnic ' (p It by minority groups ... vii). starts attempting to reflect upon the relationship betweenthe ethnicmajority communityand ethnicminority communitiesin the context of the kind of society for which in its view the educational system should seek to prepareall youngsters.Tle view that emergesis very much in line with the conceptof liberal pluralismoutlined in the previoussection of this chapter.

135 ChapterSix

The ethnic communityin a truly pluralist society cannot expectto remain

untouchedand unchangedby the presence of ethnic minority groups - indeedthe conceptof pluralism implies seeingthe very diversity of such a

society,in termsfor exampleof the range of religious experienceand the varietyof languagesand languageforms,as an enrichmentof the experience

of all thosewithin it. Similarly, however,the ethnic minority communities cannot in practice preserve all elementsof their cultures and lifestyles

unchangedand in their entirety - indeed if they were to wish to do so it would in manycases by impossiblefor themto take on the sharedvalues of

the widerpluralist society. In order to retain their identitieswhenfaced with the pervasive influencesof the lifestyle of the majority community,ethnic

minority groupsmust neverthelessbefree within the democraticframework

to maintain thoseelements which they themselvesconsider to be the most

essentialto their senseof ethnic identity - whether thesetake theform of adherenceto a particular religious faith or the maintenanceof their own

languagefor usewithin the homeand their ethnic community- withoutfear of prejudice or persecutionby other groups. It is important to emphasise

herefree choicefor individuals, so that all may moveand developas they wish within the structure of the pluralist society. We would thus regard a democraticpluralist societyas seekingto achievea balancebetween, on the

one hand,the maintenanceand activesupport of the essentialelements of the

cultures and lifestylesof all the ethnic groups within it, and, on the other,

the acceptanceby all groups of a set of sharedvalues distinctive of society as a whole. This then is our view of a genuinelypluralist society,as both socially cohesiveand culturally diverse. (pp 5-6)

This passageappears to suggestthat in a pluralist societythere should be freedom for the membersof minority groupsto maintaintheir distinctive culturesand lifestyles,

136 ChapterSix since assimilationunjustly seeksto deny,the fundamentalfreedom of individuals to differ in areas 'where no single way can justifiably be presented as universally appropriate'(p 4); but this freedomis subjectto two major constraints: first, priority must be given to taking on'the sharedvalues of the wider pluralist society',for without thesethere would be the dangerthat societywould fragmentalong ethnic lines, andthis would 'seriouslythreaten the stability and cohesionof society as a whole' (p 7); and secondly,the group'sauthority and control over the individual is constrainedby the requirementof 'free choicefor individuals'. Theseconstraints suggestthat in spite of the claim in the last two sentencesof the passage,the goal of social cohesionis taken more seriouslythan that of cultural diversity. Indeed,the tentativevision of societyat the endof the Report'sfirst chapterconfirms this impression:

We are perhaps looking for the 'assimilation' of all groups within a redefinedconcept of what it meansto live in British societytoday. (p8)

Thesetwo constraintson the freedomof the group are very much in evidencein the Report's educationalrecommendations. Stress is placedon the role of educationin laying the foundationsof, and helping to shape,a'genuinely pluralist society' (p 316).

Three goals are mentioned for education: first, educating all children to an understandingof the shared values of our society; secondly, helping children to appreciatethe diversity of lifestyles and backgroundswhich make up our society;and thirdly, meetingthe individual educationalneeds of all pupils (pp 316-7). The firsi of theseaims is basedon the first constraint mentionedearlier, the avoidanceof social fragmentation.Ile secondaim againseeks to avoid fragmentationby encouragingthe celebrationof diversity, while at the sametime openingthe door to genuineindividual choice betweenalternative ways of life. The third aim raisesthe questionof how the

'individual educationalneeds' of the pupils are to be assessed,and by whom. The Reportappears to suggestthat the dangerwhich Harris (1982a,p 227) draws attention

137 ChapterSix to, that any selectionis boundto reflect the cultural valuesof the selector(he writes of 'our judgementsas to the worth of elementsof their culture'), is to be avoided by assessingsuch needs according to rational, educationalcriteria. The third aim therefore inevitably involves the right of all children to decidefor themselvestheir future way of life. There seemsto be an unresolvedtension in the SwannRel2ort between its claim that educationshould at leastpartly be concernedto enableand assistethnic minorities 'to maintain what they regard as the essentialelements of their cultural identities' (p

465-6) and its approvalof a statementby Banks to the effect that if schoolswere to reinforce the values and beliefs that studentsbring with them from home, such an approachwould be too'culturally encapsulating'(p 322). Presumablyit is the needfor educationto promotethe sharedvalues of the broadersociety and to respectthe rights of the individualpupil which leadsthe report to concludethat

the role of educationcannot be and cannotbe expectedto be to reinforcethe

values,beliefs and cultural identity which eachchild brings to the school. (p 321)

Schoolsdo not have a responsibility for cultural preservation, for culture is anyway somethingfluid anddynamic (p 323).

Exactly the sameapproach is adoptedwhen the focus of concern is narrowed down to religious educationin ChapterEight of the Report. The starting point is that educationshould aim to

broaden the horizons of all pupils to a greater understanding and

appreciationof the diversity of value systemsand lifestyleswhich are now present in our society while also enabling and assisting ethnic minorities to maintain, what they regard as the essential

elements of their cultural identities (my emphasis). It is clear from

138 ChapterSix

the evidencewe havereceived thatfor many ethnic minority communities,

especiallythoseftom the variousfaiths within the Asian community,respect

and recognitionjor their religious beliefsis seenas one of the, and, in some

cases,the central factor in maintaining their community'sstrength and cohesiveness. (p 465-6)

It becomesclear as we read on, however,that the first goal mentionedhere is to take priority in religious educationas elsewhere:a phenomenologicalapproach to religious educationis consideredthe most suitableway of developingpupils! understandingand appreciatingthe diversity of beliefs and life-stanceswhich exist. The secondgoal of education,that of enabling and assistingethnic communities to maintain what they regardas the essentialelements of their cultural identities (p 466), is reducedto a few

superficial pastoralconcessions, mainly on food, clothing and physical education(p 343) and the retentionof single-sexschools. Religious education shouldfocus on the

nature of religious belief generally, we are told, and on the religious dimension of

humanexperience; the maintenanceof specific religious beliefs, even if they are'the

central factor in maintaining (a particular community's) strengthand cohesiveness'(p

466) has nothing to do with education. This is instruction, and can only be providedby the individual faith communities(p 496-7).

The call for separatevoluntary-aided schools for ethnic minority communitiesis opposedby the Report on similar grounds. Such schools would be pulling in the

oppositedirection from the Reporfs underlying principle of 'Educationfor All'; they

might makeit more Micult for their pupils to take on the sharedvalues of the pluralist

society(including the appreciationof diversity), and they might restrict the freedomof childrento decidefor themselvestheir own future way of life.

139 ChapterAx

The SwannReport provides a long and detaileddiscussion of a greatmany issues involving ethnic minorities in England and has already becomethe subject itself of many articlesand commentaries(NAME, 1985; CRE, 1985;Islamic Academy, 1985; Khan-Cheemaet al, 1986). 1 have heremerely isolatedone strandof thoughtrunning through the Report, a strand that is particularly relevant to the claim of the Muslim communityto the right to educateits childrenin a way that is in keepingwith, andhelps to preserve,its own distinctive beliefs andvalues. Ratherthan developingthe ideasin the Report itself in more detail, I shall now turn to a Muslim responseto the Report, starting with somedetailed criticisms and moving on to what appearsto be a serious clashof fundamentalvalues.

****

'Me Muslim responseto the SwannReport (DES, 1985),with which the present chapterconcludes, will include a discussionof the way the Report categorisesgroups and communities,and of the relationshipbetween religion and culture and a sketchof Muslims! fundamentaldisagreements with the Report over sharedvalues and the aims of education.

First, many Muslims resentbeing called an 'ethnic community' (Ashraf, 1986a,p z v; Khan-Cheema.et A 1986,pp i, 4; Islamic Academy, 1985,p 3); even if the majority of the Muslims in this country do as a matýer of fact have a common racial and cultural background,as the SwannReport pýints out (1985, p 503, footnote), it is not primarily their common ethnicity but theirýreligion that binds them together into a community.Therefore to talk about'themoves by certainethni*7*nonty communities, motivated primarily by religious concerns,to establish-theirown "separate"schools'

(ibid, p 498) is misleading. The moves,in the caseof the Muslims at least, are by a religious communitywhich happensto be drawn largely (but certainly not exclusively) from a particular ethnic minority. Two main problems arise from implying that

140 ChapterAr

Muslims are an 'ethnic community'. The first is that we are never quite sure whether what is said aboutethnic communitiesis meantto apply to the Muslims or not. When Asian losing we readof thegrowing concernof many parents... at their children touch with their cultural heritagesthrough the absenceof any form of 'supporefor their home languagesand the risk of their children's ethnic identity being 'submerged'by the influence of English' (ibid, p 202), this soundsas if it is meantto refer to Muslims, as they form the largest sectionof 'Asian parents'. However, such concern,although it may be felt by someindividual Muslim parents,is not fundamentalto Islamic belief. Ashraf (1986a,p vi) makesthis clear as he presentshis vision of the future:

In two or three generationsa group of Muslims will emergewho will be British in their use of English, in someof their customsand conventions, in love English literature, but be Muslim in even their of they will ... positiveabsolute values.

This leads to the second main problem with calling the Muslims an 'ethnic community', that the situation is being defined in terms that the Muslims would not themselvesuse and that consequentlytheir own perspectiveon the problems being facedby the Muslim community is constantlylost sight of or distorted. For example, the maintenanceof minority languages,which may be expected to be of primary concernto an ethnic minority group, is likely to be of very secondaryimportance to a group whose primary concern is the preservation of religious beliefs and values. 'Ethnic community'implies quite a different set of valuesfromreligious community.

Even worse, however, is the constantly recurring use of the phrase'the Asian community' Ubid, pp 202,466,500,501). There is no such community, and the various groupsincluded under this headingare in fact diverse in religious beliefs and values,in cultural matterssuch as food and dressand in social behaviourand lifestyle; the only factor they have in common is racial origin. The 'Asian community' is thus

141 ChapterSix identified solely on the basisof racial characteristics,and to identify a communityon thosegrounds is to encouragethe very prejudicethat the Reportis committedto rooting out. Thereis a frequentfailure in the Report to distinguishbetween Muslim and non- Muslim'Asians', and this meansthat what appearsto be internal disagreementwithin the Muslim communityoften turns out to be disagreementwithin the so-called'Asian community'. For example,one does not know if the criticisms of separateMuslim schoolsmade by the Presidentof the National Association of Asian Youth (Swann Report, p 510) are being made by a Muslim or, not; one suspectsnot. Much more seriously, the continued use of the term 'Asian community' implies that Asian

Muslims have more in common with other Asians than they do with indigenous

Christians. This is not so (for the Queanacknowledges the closerelationship between

Islam, Judaismand Christianity), and to imply otherwiseis to createa gulf whereone did not exist before. It may indeedturn out to be the most seriousmistake in the Swann

Rel2ort- and I shall return to this topic in ChapterTen - that insteadof emphasising points of agreementand common values betweenMuslims and those sectionsof the indigenouspopulation that arereligious believers, it choosesto emphasisethe racial and ethnic separatenessof the Muslim community and then to look for ways of resolving the resultingproblems that arehardly compatiblewith a Muslim world view. Thus we find the SwannRe= recommendingon the basisof educationalarguments and in the name of pluralism that the law requiring a daily act of collective worship in schools shouldbe re-examinedwith a view to amendingor repealingit. But, as I shall showin

ChapterEight, Muslims do not acceptthe educationalarguments, and it is ironical that

the argumentsadvanced by the SwannReport in the nameof pluralism have more in commonwith the views of the National SecularSociety (cf lettersto The Guardian,9th

July 1986,22ndJuly 1986)than they do with either the Muslims (cf Islamic Academy,

1985, p 7) or with large numbersof British citizens of West Indian origin. What Muslims are seekingfor their children is a school atmospherewhere religious beliefs and values can be respected and nourished; compared to this, all the other

preoccupationsof the liberal pluralist societywhich the &wann Re]2ortsupports, such

142 ChapterSix as anti-racist strategiesand the preservationof minority community languagesand cultural traditions,are of very secondaryimportance in Muslim eyes. Many Muslims would be less resistant to the idea of the common school if they did not see the traditional religious values which have for centuries underpinnededucation in this countrybeing so rapidly undermined.

It may be arguedthat I am making too much of the constant referencesto Muslims in the Swann Re]2ortin terms of 'ethnic minorities! and the 'Asian community, and that these terms are only used as a neutral and intentionally vague way of defining certain groups - the vagueness masking what would otherwise become a fierce dispute over religious, cultural, national, racial and ethnic boundaries. My point is that even these vague terms contain a value judgement - the decision not to treat religious categorisations as the most fundamental ones in our society - and that the effect is to relegate religious beliefs and commitment to a low status, at the same level as other cultural differences. Religion is considered as one among several possible forms of cultural identity (Swann Report, 1985, p 466); cultural identity is seen as one of the elements in ethnic identity (p 3); ethnic groups are one of a number of groups of which individuals are normally members (p 3); and all these groups, as we saw in the previous section, are allowed on a liberal pluralist perspective to influence individual development only subject to certain conditions, viz. that individual freedom of choice is respected (p 323) and that priority is given to the 'shared values of the broader pluralist society' (p 5). On a Muslim view, on the other hand 'the stability and cohesion of society as a whole' (p 7) is not a primary value; society itself holds value only in so far as it satisfies certain prior conditions. On the political level, the concept of the Islamic state takes priority over any man-made political institutions or divisions, and on the personal level, religious identity takes priority over nationality or ethnicity or culture or any other framework of categorisation. This will be discussed more fully in

Chapter Seven below. Muslim acceptanceof the ideal liberal pluralist society which the

Swann Rel2ort commends and of the particular educational policies which it proposes

143 ChapterSix dependsentirely on the degreeof compatibility betweenthose proposals and the Islamic world view. This thereforebecomes the topic of Part Three of the presentthesis. But first thereare somemore fundamentalproblems with the SwannReport from a Muslim point of view which must be sketchedout.

From what has been said so far, it is clear that many Muslims would wish to distinguish religion from the other elementsof culture, at least as the latter term is conceivedin sociologicalcircles (i.e., including all the customs,patterns of behaviour, institutions and lifestyles of a society),which is the sensein which the SwannRel2ort generally usesthe term. I have pointed out elsewhere(Halstead, 1986, p 9) that the sociologicalsense of culture doesnot imply any essentialdifference between devotion to one's ferrets, devotion to one's regiment or devotion to one's God and does not therefore provide us with essentially different means for evaluating such diverse devotions. But the distinction between'culture' and 'religion' is clear from an Islamic point of view. Culture,within which Muslims would includedress, occupation, leisure activities, types of residence and lifestyles, is seen, as in the Swann Reml, as somethingfluid and constantlysubject to change,and in this sensethe Muslims have beendescribed as a multi-cultural community (Ashraf, 1986a,p v). If this is what is meantby culture,then Muslims would certainly agreethat seekingto preservea culture may be 'self-defeatingsince all culturesare dynamic and are continually changingand being changedý(Swann Repgn, 1985, p 323) and that an education which sought merely to reinforce existing cultural values would be 'far too limiting and culturally encapsulating'(p 322). But a religion which is based on revelation must have a fixednesswhich is quite alien to 'culture!. This is not to deny that a religion needsthe capacityto takeon boardmodem scientific discoveriesand new moral problemswhich they sometimesraise; but they must be taken on board in a way which is compatible with the essentialtruths of the religion. The religion itself is not negotiable. This is

why the Muslims will part companywith the SwannReRort when it insists on treating

religion as one of a possiblerange of cultural optionsopen to the individual child. It is

144 ChapterSix a misrepresentationof the Muslim position to write of their desire'to give their children the opportunityto learnabout (my emphasis)the religious traditionsof their own faith communitiesin a positive and accuratemanner' (p 501). This is the languageof social anthropologyrather than religion, andreduces religion to the statusof an optionalextra for the individual rather than the basisfor the unity, indeedthe very existence,of the communityof which, by birth andupbringing, Muslim children arebecoming a parL

The concept of 'shared values' is central to the Swann ReI20rt,but it is not always clear how the concept is to be understood. Certainly it is not to be equated with traditional British Sometimes, the Report discusses 'the values. when common ... values which we all share' (p 7), it seems to refer to an HCF of values, that is, to a set of values which is shared as a matter of empirical fact by all the major cultural groups that make up contemporary British society. Such a view, as I have pointed out elsewhere (Halstead, 1986, pp 7,17) would be quite acceptable to Muslims and other minority groups in the UK. At other times, however, for example when it discusses the need for the minority groups to 'take on the shared values of the wider pluralist society' (p 5, my emphasis), the Report appears no longer to have in mind an HCF of values but to be pointing, as White (1987, p 17) suggests,in the direction of what our sharedvalues should be, even if they are not in practice shared by all the groups in our society. Referencesto what can 'justifiably be presented as universally appropriate' (p

4) suggest that the Swann Report accepts that there are criteria of rationality which

'shared values' must satisfy if their acceptanceas universal principles is to be justified.

The view of the task of education which emerges from this is a fundamentally liberal one. First, education should encourage a commitment to the framework of shared values and an understanding of the rational principles on which they are based.

Secondly, education should provide children with objective information about, and into, insight a wide range of non-shared cultural values; encourage them to respond sympathetically to, and indeed to value, diversity in this area; and leave them to determine their own individual identities and develop into autonomous individuals.

145 ChapterSLv

Many Muslims may be much less happy with this secondaccount of 'shared values', since it is basedon liberal assumptionswhich they do not necessarilyshare, yet their freedomto opt out of the educationalsystem to which it gives rise would be very limited. Particularlyproblematic from an Islamic point of view is the notion that there are criteria of rationality by which all valuescan be judged. While suchcriteria may be acceptedas appropriatefor judging cultural values on an Islamic view, they are not appropriatefor religious beliefs andvalues that are basedon divine revelation, for the humanintellect cannotset itself abovewhat they believeto be revealedtruth (cf

Khan-Cheemaet al, 1986, p 5). Muslims' acceptanceof a divine order of authoritythat affects every areaof their lives placessignificant limits on their ability to acceptthe liberal understandingof sharedvalues and education. First, although Muslims can clearly value cultural diversity, their commitments(as the protests against Salman

Rushdie show) may prevent them from celebrating, as opposed to tolerating, a diversity which includes groups totally antipathetic to their own beliefs and values. Secondly,there will be limitations on the degreeof personalautonomy which children will be encouragedto develop; this will be discussedmore fully in Chapter Eight.

Thirdly, Muslims will be very wary of proposals to negotiate a framework of commonly acceptedvalues (White, 1987: Haydon, 1987), becausethere are many values which they consider to be non-negotiable,because they are afraid that alien, secularvalues will be agreedby the non-Muslim majority and becausethe processof negotiationitself presupposescertain values which Muslims do not necessarilyaccept.

Above all, Muslims fear a further decline in religiously basedvalues, which White himself (1987, p 22) anticipateswill be an outcomeof his proposals;the proposalto phaseout worship from the maintained school, which has already been mentioned, illustratesthis secularisingtendency (cf Halsteadand Khan-Cheema,1987).

Put thus baldly, the Muslim reaction to the Swann Report is unlikely to gain a sympatheticresponse in many quarters. Clearly what is neededbefore the debatecan

146 ChapterSix proceed is a more detailed analysis of Islamic values and an Islamic approachto education,presented as sympatheticallyas possible. Only thencan a critical responseto the Islamic positionbe developed.Part Three thereforeseeks to re-expressthe termsof the debateabout the educationof Muslim childrenfrom an Islamic perspective.

147 PART THREE THE ISLAMIC WORLD VIEW

148 CHAPTER SEVEN

AN ISLAMIC FRAMEWORK OF VALUES

In Part Two the questionwas consideredwhether liberal valuescould provide a framework within which the problem of educationalprovision for Muslim children could be resolved to the satisfaction of the Muslims themselves.This involved an examinationof a liberal view of the rights of Muslim parentsto bring up their children in their own religion, and the rights of the Muslim communityto educateits young in a way which is in keeping with, and helps to preserve,its own distinctive beliefs and values.In both casesit was seenthat, on a liberal view, theserights exist for Muslims only subjectto certain conditions.In the former case,the rights of Muslim parentsto bring up their children in their own religion are constrainedby considerationsof the public interest,and by the needto ensurethat the children'spersonal autonomy is not lost sight of as an ultimate goal. In the latter case,the rights of the Muslim community to preserve,maintain and transmit its own distinctivebeliefs andvalues are constrained by the needto avoid foreclosing the child!s ultimate freedom and range of choice by inculcatingthe uncriticalacceptance of a particularconception of the goodlife. Although in the eyesof liberals theseconditions are fully justified on the basisof the framework of values set out in ChapterFour, there is no reasonto expectthat the conditionswill necessarily be acceptableto individuals or groups who do not share that liberal framework of values.This is indeedthe casewith many Muslims, whoseview of the nature and aims of educationdiffers significantly from the liberals', becauseit starts from different premises.

The aim of the presentchapter, therefore, is to provide a brief sketchof Islamic valuesand the groundson which they are basedand to draw attention to someof the

main differencesbetween the Islamic and the liberal framework of values. In a single

149 ChapterSeven shortchapter, the approachwill inevitablybe schematic,but it is hopedthat enoughwill be said to provide an adequatebasis for a more detailedaccount of an Islamic view of education in Chapter Eight and a discussion of the possibility of a reconciliation betweenthe liberal andIslamic views of educationin ChapterNine.

****

Islam is both a civilisation and a religion. In the former sense,Islam is an historical phenomenon,and the term refers to everythingthat has beensaid or doneby numerous generationsof people calling themselvesMuslims. In the latter, more fundamental,sense, Islam is the religion of the submission(islam) of the humanwill to the divine, basedon the messagereceived in the form of the Quran by the Prophet

Muhammad,and incorporatedin a seriesof institutionsof which Islamic law (sharia) is perhapsthe most important. In the presentand subsequentchapters, I shall reserve the term 'Islamic' for thoseinstitutions that are baseddirectly on the principles of the religion of Islam, and shall usethe term'Muslim! for thoseinstitutions infused with the spirit of Islam but also subjectto a greateror less extent to other influences.Thus, I wish to call al-Kindi, al-Farabi,Ibn Sina (Avicenna)and Ibn Rushd(Averroes) Muslim philosophers,but al-Ash'ari and al-Ghazali Islamic theologians.Similarly, it will be possible to speak of the Islamic tradition of tolerance while acknowledging that historically someMuslims have shown a high level of intolerance.No civilisation in practicecan be completelyshaped by a religion to the exclusionof all other influences, though one of the aims of the much publicisedIslamic resurgencein recentyears has beento bring the civilisation of the Muslim world moreinto line with Islamic principles, for example,by purging their institutions of remnantsfrom the colonial era. It is the religious principles of Islam, however,that give the Muslim world its strong senseof unity, for howevermuch civilisation andculture may differ from one region to another, theseremain constant.Indeed, these principles are takenby Muslims to be unchanging acrosstime as well as space,though it is acknowledgedthat they may needto be re-

150 ChapterSeven expressedin modern idiom if they are to be comprehensibleto the present-day generation(cf Nasr, 1981, p 2).

It is with Islam as a religion that I am concernedin the presentchapter, and in particularwith the fundamentalIslamic valueswhich are sharedthroughout the Muslim world simply becausethey are fundamentalto the religion of Islam. This is not to deny that there are differencesof perspectivebetween different Muslim groups.Just as the fundamentalliberal valuesdiscussed in ChapterFour provide a frameworkequally for utilitarianism, libertarianismand egalitarianism,so the Islamic principles discussedin this chapterhave manifested themselves in a variety of sectsand tendencies.But these differences should not be overemphasised; they do not usually extend to the

fundamentalvalues. Insofar as I have to take accountof the differencesat all in the

presentchapter, I shall follow the most orthodox and traditional viewpoint. This is in

recognition of the worldwide strength and influence of resurgent Islamic fundamentalism,but also becauseit enablesthe points I make to be seen in their

clearest,most unambiguousform. Thus I shall focus on the Sunni sect,rather than the Shfite, and the Ash'arite school of theology rather than the Mu'tazilite. In parallel to

my identificationof a major strandof liberalism in ChapterFour, running from Kant to Rawls, so I shall draw heavily on a strandof Islamic thoughtwhich can be.traced from

the mediaevalthinker, al-Ghazali,to the contemporaryscholar, S. H. Nasr.

The Islamic frameworkof valuesdiscussed here can, like the liberal, Produceits

own distinctive political theory, ethical theory, economic theory and theory of

education.Indeed, much work hasbeen done in recentyears on Islamic political theory (cf Brohi, 1982a; Enayat, 1982), Islamic ethics (cf Hourani, 1985; Hovannisian, 1985),Islamic economictheory (cf al-Mahdi, 1982;Choudhury, 1986; Mannan, 1986)

and Islamic education(which is discussedin ChapterEight). Islam provides a more

comprehensiveworld view than liberalism, however, for it also encompassesareas

whereliberalism hasno distinctive perspective,such as the aesthetic(cf L. L. al-Faruqi,

151 ChapterSeven

1982)and the spiritual(cf Nasr, 1987a)).Islam is a religion, but far more than that term usuallyimplies in theWest; it is a din, a whole way of life. As MontgomeryWatt points out,

it is not a private matterfor individuals,touching only theperip hery of their lives, but somethingwhich is both private and public, somethingwhich

permeatesthe wholefabric of societyin a way of which menare conscious.

It is - all in one - theologicaldogma, forms. of worship,political theoryand a detailedcode of conduct. (1979, p 3)

In ChapterFour it was arguedthat liberalism hasits origin in the tensionbetween two conflicting values- individual freedomand the drive to self-fulfilment on the one hand, and the equality of all individuals on the other - and that it is the applicationof rationality to this tensionthat producesthe distinctively liberal world view. In contrast, what underpinsthe Islamic frameworkof valuesis a profound senseof unity (tawhid), accordingto which all the elementsin the universeand all aspectsof life contributeto a harmonious whole. This doctine of unity is not unique to Islam; for example, Rademacher(1961) has written a detailedexposition of it from a Christianperspective. But undoubtedlyit occupiesa much more central place in Islamic than in Christian beliefsand values. The Islamic principle of unity drawsattention initially to the oneness

of God, the creator and sustainerof life, whose will and authority are supremeand encompassthe whole universe.Secondly, it draws attention to the unity of mankind;

human beings are equal in God!s eyes, and are bound together in an interdependent

community of life and work, and have a common destiny. Thirdly, it emphasisesthe

harmonybetween humanity and the creatednatural world, which are complementaryin

God's schemeof creation. Fourthly, it provides an integrated and comprehensive

outlook on life, wherefamiliar Westerntensions disappear, as betweenthe spiritual and

the material,the religious and the secular,or the law and personalmorality. 'Me pursuit

152 ChapterSeven of knowledge, according to this doctrine, ceases to be a fragmentary and compartmentalisedactivity, for all knowledgeultimately contributesto our knowledge of God. The whole fabric of life is thus governedby a single law: the realisationof the divine will.

On an Islamic view, peopleare guidedto an understandingand experienceof this unity through the revelation (wahy) by which God has made himself known. This revelationwas brought to the ProphetMuhammad in the Quran and interpretedby him in his sayingsand traditions (sunna).Together, the Quran and the sunna form what

Sardar (1979, p 24) calls the 'absolute reference frame' of Islam. They contain essentially the samemessage as that revealed to earlier prophets including Adam, Abraham,Moses and Jesus,but whereasearlier messagesare seenas corrupted,the

Qur'an is considered to be the word of God in its final form. An acceptanceof revelationin this sensethus lies at the very heartof Islam. The tenn'revelation'usually implies oneof two antitheses:it suggestseither a contrastbetween 'natural religion' and 'revealed kind between'reason' 'revelation'. religion!, or an opposition of some and The Islamic position with regardto the former of theseis clear:God cannotbe descibed or symbolisedor understoodby referenceto anything in the natural realm, at least without prior accountbeing taken of revealedtruth. The Islamic view of the relation betweenreason and revelation, however,is more complicated.The Quran constantly stressesthe importanceof reasonor the 'intellece (aql), and in fact describesthose who go astrayfrom religion as thosewho cannotuse their intellect Qayaqilun). The intellect hereis conceivedas the meansby which peoplecome to understandthe signs

(ayat) of God, and come to recognise and accept God-given truths. The Islamic

theologian al-Ghazali, however, has a much broader concept of the intellect. Like

Aquinas,he showsgreat respect for Aristotelianlogic and analyticalthinking, which he considersto be neutral with regard to religious truth and therefore capableof being

harnessedin supportof Islam and appropriatefor inclusionin the curriculum of Islamic

learning (Watt, 1983, p 78). On the other hand, there is in his view no way that

153 ChapterSeven independenthuman rationality can take precedencein Islam over revealedreligion. As Nasr (1981,p 26) points out, the useof the intellect is consideredvalid only when that intellect is in a wholesomestate (salim), and wholesomenessis to bejudged in termsof following the divine law (sharia), which is itself basedon revelation.Hourani (1985,p 149)asserts that

from an early time Muslims who understoodthe overwhelmingpower of

God as the chief messageof the Quran could not admit that man could ever work out by his own intellect, without aidfrom scripture, what was right

and what was wrong in the world.

Al-Ghazali and other Islamic theologians maintain that ethical knowledge is derivable entirely from revelation, and that it is only under the umbrella of revealed religion that reasoncomes into play, to carry out the functions of interpretationand applicationand to refute opponents.Critical appraisalthus can neverbe appliedto the foundationof religious commitment.Reason stands independent of revelationonly for the very first stepin Islamic apologetics(since, of course,revelation cannot authenticate its own authority:cf Flew, 1966,p 19), as al-Ghazalihimself makesclear:

In sum, prophets are the doctors of heart ailments. The only beneficial function of intellect is to teachus thatfact, bearing witnessto the veracity and its own incompetenceto grasp what can be grasped by the eye of prophecy; it takesus by the hand and delivers us to prophecy as the blind are delivered to guides and confusedpatients to compassionatedoctors.

Thusfar is theprogress and advanceof intellect; beyondthat it is dismissed, exceptfor understandingwhat the doctor iniparts to it.

(quotedin Hourani, 1985,p 165f)

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On al-Ghazali's view, human beings' awarenessof their own weaknessand uncertainstate, plus their naturalinclination to avoid harm and to seektheir own good, should lead them to a statewhere they can recognisethe authority of the teachingof Islam. God has given them everything they need to make an intelligent decision: a prophetto warn them,miracles or signsin supportof his authority (suchas the miracle of the Qur'an), their intellect to help them to understandthe warnings and see the significanceof the signs,and their natural concernfor their own interest.The purpose of both the warningsand the signsis to help peopleto recognisetheir'contingency and dependenceupon an omnipotent God (Leaman, 1985, p 135). If they fail to do so, then the teaching about the Last Judgmentreminds them that they are ultimately accountableto God for their beliefsand actions.

****

Once revelation is acceptedas the source of truth, no value system can be postulatedwhich ignoresit. Revelationis primarily concernedwith three things - with God himself, with the mutual relations of God and human beings, and with the principles of human conduct - and from an Islamic point of view each of thesehas profoundconsequences for the constructionof a framework of values.Rahman (1982, p 14)points out that:

Just as in Kantian terms no ideal knowledge is possible without the,

regulative ideas of reason (likefirst cause),so in Quranic terms no real morality is possible without the regulative ideas of God and the last judgment.

The dependenceof all human beings on the divine guidancecontained in the scripturesas the basisof their moral knowledgeis a recurrenttheme of the Quran. To forestall man'snatural tendencyto go astray,God provides guidance(huda), and the

155 ChapterSeven appropriateresponse to that guidanceis for the Muslim to surrenderhis own personal moraljudgment to the guidanceof God and the Prophet(as contained in the Quean,the sunnaand their derivatives).The Qdan says,

It is not for any believer, man or woman, when God and His Messenger havedecreed a matter, to have the choice in the affair. Whoeverdisobeys God and His Messengerhas gone astray into manifesterror. (Sura33, verse36, Arberry's translation)

It is clearly implied hereand elsewherein the Queanthat revelation is to be takenby Muslims as providing an exclusive guide to moral knowledgefor humanbeings. The separationof morality from religion is seenas a modemaberration.

Two questionsnow arisewhich were the subjectof muchdebate in the 8th to 12th centuries A. D., when Islamic civilisation met, and learned to respond to, Greek philosophy.The first is whetheron an Islamic view ethical knowledgecan sometimes be arrived at by independentreason or whetherit can be drawn only from revelation andderived sources. The former view was held by the Mu'tazilites, thoughthey, unlike some Muslim philosophers,saw reasonand revelation in ethics as complementary, neverin opposition;but most Islamic theologiansaccepted the latter view, restrictingthe role of reasonto mattersof interpretation,the use of analogy,and so on. Clearly they felt that if human beingscould judge right and wrong without referenceto God, this would somehowundermine Gods omnipotence(at least,unless God had willed it so), since they would be in a position to judge God's actions themselvesand form an independentverdict on his moral pronouncements.The secondquestion is whether ethical value terms suchas 'good!and 'righe have an independentmeaning that can be

derivedrationally, or whetherthey simply mean what God approvesor commandsor decidesis good and right, a position which I shall call ethical voluntarism.Once again, the former view was held by the Mu'tazilites and all Muslim philosophers,the latter by

156 ChapterSeven al-Ash'ari and almost all Sunnitejurists and theologians.Theologians like al-Ash'ari and al-Gazalidid not shy awayfrom acceptingthe more extremeconsequences of their doctrine of ethical voluntarism,that if God had commandedtheft and murder, then it would be right for man to commit them. Some modem scholars, such as Albert Hourani, however,are more sympatheticto the standpointof the Muslim philosopher

Ibn Rushd,who notesthat'such a position potentially underminesboth faith in God and belief in ordinary morality' (Hourani, 1985,p 59).

Undoubtedlythe view that values are in essencewhatever God commandsand that they can only be known ultimately throughrevelation has been prevalent in Islam for many centuries.But this view doesnot necessarilyprovide the best foundationfor constructinga framework of Islamic values.The problem is that the debateabout the ontological statusof values,which was eventuallywon as far as Islam was concerned by the ethicalvoluntarists, was conductedin termsdrawn not from the Qu:ean but from

Greek philosophy. In the Qur'an itself, reason and revelation are never set in opposition,for'reason' (aqo is understoodin the more limited senseof the useof the intellectrather than in the senseused by later Islamic thinkersof reasoningthat proceeds without any help from revelation. Thus, according to the Quran, it is reason (aql) which enablespeople to interpret God's signs (ayat), and the Quran urges peopleto make the fullest useof their intellect (aqo which is given them by God, to understand his will and to follow his guidance. On a Qur'anic view, the only alternative to following this path is to follow one'suntutored passions.

The Islamic framework of values is grounded ultimately not on what God commands,but on what he is. Islamic tradition statesthat there are ninety-ninenames of God, each expressingsome quality, such as the Merciful, the Oft-Forgiving, the

Trustworthy, the Just, the Righteous (Stade, 1970; Doi, 1981, p 20). According to Ashraf (1987,p 15), the divine names

157 ChapterSeven

are the archetypesof all valuesmanifested in contingentcircwnstances to be

realisedthrough action in the hwnanworld.

In other words, God's names enshrine in a perfect form certain universal unchanging norms which are capable of being known and realised even in this imperfect world, and thesetherefore provide the basisfor an Islamic value system.As Rahman(1982, p 14) puts it,

God is the transcendentanchoring point of attributessuch as life, creativity,

power, mercy and justice (including retribution) and of moral values to

which a humansociety must be subject if it is to survive and prosper -a ceaselessstrugglefor the causeof the good. This constantstruggle is the

keynoteof man'snormative existence and constitutesthe service('ibada) to

God with which the Quran squarelyand inexorablycharges him.

In al-Ghazalfs view, the purposeof individual existencefrom a humanpoint of view is the attainmentof happiness,and happinessis to be found overwhelmingly in the next life (cf Hourani, 1985, p 147). There are two means to this end: first, obedienceto the rules of conductset out in revealedscripture (which implies belief in them),and secondly,the cultivation of the virtues of the soul. AI-Ghazalimaintains that while external actsof obedienceare important, the cultivation of the virtues is valued more highly in Gcd!s eyesbecause the virtues are a reflection of God!s own namesand attributes.The principal virtues taught in the Quean are honesty,trustfulness, justice,

perseverance,piety, benevolence,gratitude, tolerance,f: irmness of purpose,wisdom,

courage, kindness, trustworthiness, chastity, generosity, hard work, charity,

temperanceand forgiveness (Sarwar, 1980, p 191ff). A detailed interpretation and application of these virtues is contained in the hadith (sayings of the Prophet Muhammad).

158 ChapterSeven

According to the Quran, humanbeings are God's chef doeuvre (Sura 15, verse

29; Sura38, verse72), becausethey aloneare able to understandand take on board,of their own free will, the divine attributes.For this reason,God hasgiven them a position of stewardship in the world and to them falls the responsibility of sustaining themselvesand the rest of creation in accordancewith the divine attributes.He has equipped them with everything they need for this task, including the capacity to perceive,to reason,to learn, to understand,to remember,to communicateand to act; guidancein the form of revelation; and the predisposition to love the good and to recogniseGods commandsas universaland unchangingnorms. Though prone at times to make mistakes of judgment, to act selfishly or to commit acts of aggressionor injustice, human beings are not, on an Islamic view, tainted by original sin (cf Al-

Faruqi, 1982,p 154f); on the contrary, the moral strugglethat Muslims are chargedto sustainagainst such failings is not blighted by any sensethat the task is an impossible one without direct divine intervention. Nor is the Muslim discouragedfrom enjoying this presentlife to somelegitimate extent. As Gods deputy (khalifa), he is free to use his God-given faculties to the utmost, whether in the pursuit of knowledge, the harnessingof the createdworld to his own purposes,the enjoymentof possessionsand pleasuresin this world, or in individual creativity of any kind. Ile only restriction is that all of theseactivities should be carriedout in accordancewith Islamic principlesand laws. Excessiveindulgence in material pleasureswould be likely to make people unmindful of their creator,and the pursuit of profit in a way which doesnot respectthe right of every creatureto draw sustenancefrom the earth would be likely to diminish people'schances of fulfilling their role as Gods deputy. To act in accordancewith

Islamic principles, and faithfully to carry out the stewardshipto which one has been assignedis in fact the true natureof worship (ibada) in Islam.

Worship, the Quran tells us, is the sole purposebehind the creation of mankind

(Sura 51, verse 56). But worship is not to be conceivednarrowly in terms merely of observing the five pillars of Islam: making the declarationof faith (shahada),ritual

159 ChapterSeven prayer (salat), wealth sharing(zakah), fasting (sawm),and pilgrimage (hajj). As Qutb (1982,p 27) points out, God

hasmade all the natural activitiesof the body,mind and soul, if devotedand committedto God,forms of true worship.

Thus tilling the earth, begetting and bringing up children, eating and drinking, searchingfor knowledgeand truth, striving to establishsocial, political and economic justice, making culture and civilisation, are all forms of worship. Unlike other religions, Islam seesethical value not as indifferent or opposedto the processesof life on earth,but as their very affirmationand promotion under the divinely appointedmoral law (cf I Al-Faruqi, 1982,p 156).Perhaps the greatestact of worship is the continuous struggleto makeoperational the moral valueswhich constitutethe divine will.

In brief, to worship is to acceptGod! s will as supreme.God's will is embedded in the structureof the whole of creation, including man!s physical nature, which is evidencedby the necessaryconstraints or laws of nature which exist in the created world. Man's moral nature,however, is not subjectto the samekind of constraint.He is free to obey or disobey the divine commandmentswhich are the embodimentof

God!s will, to acceptor reject its normsand values.To acceptGod's will as supremeis consciouslyto submit oneselfto the highestreality one is capableof apprehending;as

alreadynoted, the primary meaningof Islam is 'submission'.It is to live with a vision of God!s constantinvolvement in the world. It is to bind oneself to live in harmony with God's creativepurposes.

It has already been statedthat in Islam the divine will is embodiedin concrete

form in the sharia (revealed law), which governs every aspect of the Muslirn!s

relationshipwith God and with his fellow-men. It guideshim equally in legal matters

(such as the conduct of divorce), moral matters (such as the commendation of

hospitality) and religious matters (such as the obligation to fast, pray, give alms and

perform the pilgrimageto Mecca).The sharia is a systematiccodification of laws based

160 ChapterSeven on the Qu:ean and the traditionsof the Prophet(sunna), especially his sayings(hadith) though thesetwo sourceshave been supplementedby the use of analogy(qiyas) and consensusQjma) to take accountof contingenciesnot covereddirectly by revelationor prophetic tradition. The formulation and interpretationof the sharid has alwaysbeen the task of the professional Islamic scholars ('ulamaý, whose authority has been acceptedby the community (umma) becauseof their wisdom, reliAus insight, intellectual expertiseand knowledge of the Quran and the Prophet. The sharid is the 'core and kernel of Islarn' (Schacht, 1974, p 392) and is viewed by Muslims as 'a transcendentreality which is eternaland immutable' (Nasr, 1981, p 24). It is the way by which God!s justice and other goals are realised. It provides divine guidancefor men'sactions, and is the model by which their actions,individually and collectively, arejudged. Obedienceto the sharl'a constitutesthe basisof true religion in Islam, and guaranteesbelievers their reward on the day of judgment. But 'obedience'(which implies a degree of compulsion or bondage) is only the first stage in a person's responseto the law. As Brohi (1982b, p 232f) points out, the Muslim may reach the stagewhere

what at one time compelledobedience on his part is progressivelyreplaced by his love and longing to do the deedin conformitywith the law.

When the individual entersthe path of spiritual growth (tariqa), however,he doesnot turn his back on the sharila, but simply developsa new attitude towardsit. The sharid literally means the broad highway; it provides the direction in which the whole community of believers(umma) should walk, and indeedis what binds them together into a communityin the first place.

Religion, as O'Hear (1984, p 4f) reminds us, is never a purely individual affair.

The religious community offers its membersa senseof belonging, guidance,support, direction and purposeand helpsthem to seethemselves as playing a part in an overall

161 ChapterSeven

its scheme of affairs. The community can elicit strong feelings of loyalty from in members, and on MacIntyre's (1981) view can help to ground moral values a coherently structured and socially oriented narrative or quest. This senseof community is rarely found in a stronger form than in Islam. Social integration is considered important at all levels, from the family, the mosque and the local community to the worldwide community of believers (umma) who are bound together, irrespective of is race, in a genuine senseof brotherhood. In the Islamic community, every member equal, except in the piety and righteousness of his actions, and no-one has immunity from the operation of the law. Montgomery Watt (1979) comments that

the basisof this integrationof communallife and the senseof brotherhoodis the deeply rooted belief of Muslims that their community or umma is a

charismatic one, in virtue of its being divinely founded and having a

divinely given law - or in more modernterms, in virtue of its beinga bearer of values.

Social morality is central to Islam, and the community plays a vital part in the realisation of the divine will. Within the Islamic community, relations between individuals are highly important, and are basedon the principles of mutual protection and support.It is recognisedthat coercion cannot be usedin moral matters,since for action to be moral it must result from the free and deliberateexercise of the subjeces facultiesof decision;thus all that the Muslim cando for his fellow citizen is to educate, convinceand persuade. This consideration,says I Al-Faruqi (1982,p 167)

makesof the Islamic state a college on a very grand scale, a collegefor

ethical endeavourandjelicity whereevery person is at oncea studentand a teacher.

162 ChapterSeven

On an Islamic view, the goal of social existenceis exactly the sameas the goal of individual existence:the realisationon earth of divinely ordainedmoral imperatives.

This is why, as al-Faruqi (ibid., p 165) points out, 'Islam does not countenanceany The is 'society's separationof religion and state. state viewed as political arm!, which is subjectto the samemoral imperativesas the individual or the group. Betweenthe stateand the citizen, asbetween any socialinstitutions and the individual, thereis only a division of labour, a distinction as to function. All are boundby the samegoal, just as all are subject to the samedivine law. Thus Islam is just as relevant to economic, political, socialand international affairs asit is to the individual conscience.

****

It has becomeclear that there are many points of contact betweenIslamic and liberal values. Severalof the ethical valueswhich are essentialto a liberal world view, suchas truth-telling andpromise-keeping (cf Raphael,198 1, p 44), also featureon any Islamic list of basic virtues and qualities (e.g. Sarwar, 1980,pp 191ff). In the social and political domain, Islam, just as much as liberalism, has stood for freedom of religion and conscience(Brohi, 1982b,p 248), the toleration of minorities (Khadduri,

1984, p 144), racial integration and harmony (Montgomery Watt, 1979, p 233) and equality before the law, irrespectiveof race, colour or class (Khadduri, 1984,p 237). For Muslims, the reasonfor the large degreeof overlapbetween the two value systems is that liberal values are derived from religious ones,and all religious valuesoriginate ultimately from the samedivine source,through revelation. For liberals, the reasonfor the overlapis simply that the valuesheld in commonare rationally justifiable, andthat it would be impossibleto havea rational systemwhich ignoredthem.

The more fundamental the values are, however, the wider appearsto be the divergencebetween the two frameworks.For example,when Khomeini (1981) says is that 'Islam committed to truth and justice', it is clear that his conceptualisationof

163 ChapterSeven thesetwo valuesis widely divergentfrom any liberal's; 'truth' to him is the truth of the revelation,and 'justice!is conceivedalong the lines of ShafiTsstark definition

Justiceis that oneshould act in obedienceto God. (quotedin Hourani, 1985,p 33)

Of course,Khomeini representsone extremeof Islamic thinking, and Khadduri (1984) has shownjust how much debatethere has been within Islam on the political, theological, philosophical, ethical, legal and social aspectsof justice. Nevertheless, Khomeinfs call to Islamic scholars to unite against secular, tyrannical, unjust and materialisticWesternised rulers in the nameof truth andjustice, hasbeen viewed with considerablesympathy both in Iran and beyond.

The divergencebetween Islamic andliberal valuesmay perhapsbe describedmost clearly by providing an Islamic responseto the three fundamentalliberal values that were discussedin ChapterFour. It is now thereforeproposed to examinerather more closelythe Islamic view of individual freedom,equal rights andobjective rationality.

The notion of individual freedom has never been a dominant one in Islam, and indeedMuslims have always beenstrongly awareof the existenceof constraintsupon humanaction. In the Quran and early Muslim thinkers,the term'freedore is primarily used to distinguish between the slave and the free man (Rosenthal, 1960). Within

Muslim philosophy,the term refers to the humancapacity to createone's own actions

andto exercisefree choice(ikhtiyar) -a conceptwhich appearsto be in conflict with the

Islamic doctrinethat all humanactions are created by God. Insofar aspeople are totally

dependenton God's will in every aspectof their lives, there is little room left for individual freedom in human affairs. This latter stance raises its own theological

problems,however, for God!s justice would be in doubt if he rewardedand punished people for actions for which they were not themselvesgenuinely responsible. Al-

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Ash'ari proposesas a solution to this problem that God createsa person!s actionsbut the personthen 'appropriates'(kasaba) them; the actions can thereforebe called his, and he can bear the responsibility for them. ContemporaryIslamic scholarsgenerally arguethat a person!s responsibility for his actions is basedon his freedom to choose (Ashraf, 1987,p 5) and that actions can only be consideredmoral when they result from the individual'sfree exerciseof his capacityto makedecisions (I Al-Faruqi, 1982, p 152; cf Quran, Sura 2, verse 256). But in liberal eyes, the Islamic conceptof free will is a very unsophisticatedone, involving little more than the choice to acceptor reject the guidancecontained in the revealedlaw. In Islam, there is no place for the liberal vision of the autonomousindividual working out for himself his own religious faith andhis own moral standpoint,for this would be in conflict with his statusas slave ('abd) with regardto God. Nasr makesit clear that

there is no freedom possible throughflightfirom and rebellion against the

Principle which is the ontological source of human existenceand which determinesourselves from on high. To rebel against our own ontological

Principle in the nameoffireedom is to becomeenslaved to an ever greater

degreein the world of multiplicity and limitation. (1981, p 17)

The Westernconcept of freedomis thus dismissedby many Muslim scholarsas aimlessnessand license (Ali, 1984,p 53). True freedomcan only be attainedby those who live in accordancewith the divine law, which imposes limitations on human freedomin one sense,but which makespossible a greaterinner freedom,the liberation of the soul from its own tendencyto go astray.Islamic mystics (suf1s)have frequently stressedthe importanceof freedom in this sense,as the complete detachmentof the humansoul from everythingexcept God. This emphasison the spiritual dimensionof freedom is perhapsnot incompatible with Hourani's call (1985, p 276) for greater social freedom in the Muslim world. In the past, someMuslim rulers may well have

165 ChapterSeven been unduly authoritarianunder the guise that their acts were the expressionof the divine will.

The secondfundamental liberal value, that of the equal right of all to individual freedom,is equallyproblematic on an Islamic perspective.Equality is certainly a basic conceptin Islam, but it derivesfrom God!s unwillingnessto reckon any humanbeing superiorto othersexcept on the groundsof piety (Quran, Sura49, verse 13), not from specificrights which are a part of our humanity.From an Islamic perspective,as Brohi (1982b,p 233f) points out, humanbeings have no rights in relation to God, and their rights in relation to their fellow men are derived from their primary duty to God. Specificobligations towards God, other humanbeings and Natureare delineatedin the

shari'd, andhuman rights result from the fulfiment of theseobligations, not vice versa. Since the sharid is the expressionof God's will, and all human beings are equal in

God!s eyes(except in terms of piety), it follows that there shouldbe absoluteequality in the eyesof the law, and that no-oneshould have immunity from the operationof the law for social or political reasons.Such equality in God!s eyes, however, does not

preclude the possibility that different human beings may have different roles and

functions in society in accordancewith their divinely ordainednature and potential - hencethe distinct lack of sympathyamong many Muslims for movementsconcerned to

equalisethe role of the sexesin society(Nasr, 1981, p 212f).

Much has alreadybeen said in the presentchapter about the Islamic view of the third fundamentalliberal value,that of consistentrationality (howeverthis is conceived:

seeChapter Four). It has beenshown that in Islam rationality cannottake precedence

over revealedreligion as a foundationof othervalues. This may be what is behindKarl

Barth's statementthat'belief cannotargue with unbelief: it can only preachat ie, which

Flew (1966, p 9) claims not to understand.For if believers were able to enter into

rational debateabout their beliefs with outsiders,this would make rationality a more

fundamentalvalue than anythingwithin the domainof belief itself. As we haveseen, al-

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Ghazali does in fact concedethat rationality is neededto establishthe credentialsof revelationas the primary sourceof all other values,though I have suggestedelsewhere (Halstead, 1986, p 58) that what establishesthe revelation as true in the minds of believers is more likely to be some form of spiritual experienceor basic intuition.

Within the framework provided by revelation, however, rationality ('aql) assumesa very high level of importancein Islam. Repeatedly,the Quran addressesitself to the understandingof its audience(e. g. Sum 3, verse65; Sura 12,verse 2) and in numerous placesit urgesthem to consider,reflect and understandthrough the useof their reason. Reasonis usednot only for interpretingthe Q&an and traditions (sunna),determining the consensusof the community Qjma) and drawing conclusionsby the method of analogy(qiyas), but also for independentjudgment and striving after the truth Qjdhad). Ijtihad, however, is not intended to elevate the individual judgment over that of the group,any more than it raisesindependent reason over revelation;independent thought and creativity are encouragedonly among those whose religious knowledge and understanding are well established, and in any case they are to be balanced by consultationand dialogue (shura) until consensuscan be achievedamong the whole community (umma). The use of God-given rational faculties in the pursuit of knowledgeand truth is indeedviewed as a form of worship in Islam, so long as it is undertakenwithin the boundariesdefined by revelation. On theseterms, the antithesis betweenreason and revelationdisappears; what reasondiscovers cannot be thoughtof as unrevealed,since it can only be discoveredwith God!s help, while the contentsof revelationcan only be recognisedand understoodthrough reason.

Islamic valuesare groundedfirmly on religion, which provides a comprehensive

framework for humanlife. Their religion gives Muslims a profound senseof purpose

and direction, and no aspectof their life is untouched.Islam makes no distinction

between'the good of this world and that of the world hereaftee(Khan, 1981,p 1) or

betweenthe sacredand the profaneand the man who works to supporthis family and

the scientistwho pushesback the frontiers of knowledgemay both be consideredto be

167 ChapterSeven engagedin acts of worship as important as prayer itself (al-Attas, 1979,p vi; Nasr, 1966,p 98). Indeedall branchesof knowledgemay be consideredIslamic if they are pursuedin accordancewith Islamic principles. Within Islamic countries, culture is shapedlargely by religion, besidewhich any ethnic differencesseem of very minor significance,and religion ties the whole community of believerstogether with strong bondsof loyalty and helps to increaseits stability and continuity (though al-Ghazali warns leadersagainst supportingreligious and moral principles not for their divine nature but for their utility in maintaining union in the family and stability in the community: cf Khadduri, 1984, p 92f). The fact that Islam is a long-established religion meansthat its valueshave significant historical roots and its followers have a senseof belongingto somethingvaster and more permanentthan themselves,though

Nasr (1981, p 32) acknowledgesthe need for 'translating truths of Islam into a contemporarylanguage without betrayingthem!.

All this has a profound relevance to the education of Muslim children, for Muslims not surprisingly want their educationto be shapedin the light of their own religious faith and experience.We are now in a position to look more closely at what view of education emergesfrom the Islamic framework of values which has been consideredhere, and the Islamic view of educationthus forms the topic of Chapter Eight.

It hasnot beenmy intention in the presentchapter to enterinto any kind of debate about the truth or falsehoodof the Islamic belief in the existenceof God and in the

Qu:ean as the climax of all divine self-revelation,the fulfilment which partly completes

and partly correctsthe messagesof earlier prophets.*My concern has been simply to

examinethe Islamicposition and to compareit to the dominantliberal perspectivein this first country as a step to establishingwhether any form of educationalprovision is does possiblewhich not conflict with the deep-seatedconvictions of Muslims who are commitedto the frameworkof valuesoutlined in this chapter.

168 CHAPTER EIGHT

AN ISLAMIC VIEW OF EDUCATION

Islam has a long-standingtradition of education,and of respectfor education. Evidencefor this is seenin the frequentinjunctions found in the Quran and the hadith to pursue knowledge (e.g. Quean 20: 114) and in the stress laid on wisdom and guidancerather than the blind acceptanceof tradition (Quran 2: 170; 17:36,6: 148).

From the start,education in Islam was religious in natureand its unequivocalgoal was to produce true believers. The earliest Muslim schools undoubtedly played an important part in the socialisationof the diverse ethnic groups conqueredduring the period of Muslim expansion,into the faith of Islam and its way of life. It also seems likely that the discouragementof independentthinking as liable to undermineorthodoxy or obedienceto divine injunctions stems from this period. The responsibility for educationlay with the 'ulama' (the 'learned'),and in the early centuriesof Islam both the katatib (primary schools)and the madaris (schoolsfor higher studies)were almost invariably attachedto mosques. Even at the highest level, there was little attemptto extendthe teachingbeyond the Quran and the hadith, Arabic languageand literature, and Islamic law, theology and philosophy. During the Middle Ages, education in Muslim countriesgradually began to stagnate,partly becauseof the rigidity with which the subjectmatter was defined (cf Gibb, 1969,p 98-9) and partly becauseof a sterile pedagogywhich put much emphasison memorisation,made extensive use of physical punishment and required studies to be carried out in Arabic, a languagewhich an increasingnumber of Muslims found hard to understand.The stagnationmade it easier at the time of Westernimperialist expansionfor Western systemsof educationto be introduced into Muslim countries. Gauhar (1982) argues that such education intentionally or otherwiseperpetuated Western domination and that the effects of this arestill in evidencetoday. The countrieswere administeredin accordancewith Western

169 ChapterEight laws andvalues, and therewas little chancefor anyonewho had not beeneducated in a Western languageand in Western culture to gain any position of power in legal, political, commercialor professionalinstitutions. Traditional Muslim educationexisted sideby side,of course,with Westerneducation in Muslim countries,but in the main it servedonly the poor and thosewithout power. Tbus at the beginningof the twentieth century,Muslim countriestypically had a powerful, Western-educatedelite with a deep seatedinterest in retaining Westerncultural traditions and institutions, and a massive majority whoseeducation, though Muslim, was minimal in comparison,and servedto reinforce their lower social and economic status. Muslim education seemedboth unwilling and unable to respond to the rapid expansionof knowledge, particularly scientificand technological, that wastaking placein the West and it cameto be depicted in Westernand Westem-educated circles as backwardand obscurantist. A dictionaryof Islam publishedin 1935provides a commonview of Muslim educationat the time:

the chief aim and objectof educationin Islam is to obtain a knowledgeof the religion of Muhammadand anythingbeyond this is consideredsuperfluous, and evendangerous. (Hughes, 1935)

In the post-colonial period, no uniform pattern of education has emergedin

Muslim countries. Somehave retained and extendeda Westernisedsystem, others have attemptedto bolsterthe statusof a Muslim systemso that it can exist side by side with, and as a viable alternative to, the Westernisedsystem, yet others have attemptedto Islamicise the system completely, but remain significantly dependenton Western expertiseand Western ideas particularly in the areasof scienceand technology. Muslim immigrantsto the West have generallywelcomed the social and economicadvantages achievedor anticipatedthrough the educationprovided by their new homecountries, yet have soughtto supplementthis with more specific religious and moral instruction at mosqueschools outside normal schoolhours. Such supplementaryschools, however,

170 ChapterEight aremodelled on the traditionalkuttab andmadrasa with all their attendantfaults (rote- learning,corporal punishment, unqualified teachersand so on); and the extra demands madeon pupils' time, togetherwith the lack of co-ordinationbetween the maintained schoolsand the mosqueschools in approachand methodshave led to very widespread dissatisfactionwith this combinedsystem among Muslim parents.

No system has so far emerged which seems totally satisfactory from a Muslim point of view. A modified Western system of education is likely to leave Muslim children exposedto an underlying set of secular values and assumptionswhich are alien to the spirit of Islam. Muslim schools of the old style, on the other hand, seem unable to prepare children adequatelyfor the needsof the modem world or to help them to take

advantageof modem scientific, technological and economic progress. Yet a combined

system such as that currently operating for many Muslim children in the U. K., whereby

they attend state schools in the daytime and supplementary schools at evenings and

weekends,draws attention to a gulf between religious and non-religious learning which

is in direct conflict with the Islamic doctrine of tawhid (unity), according to which all

aspectsof life should be integrated and contribute to a harmonious whole. What is now

being sought by an increasing number of Muslim parents, intellectuals and leaders is a

single, unified system of education which is based on Islamic principles yet which pays

attention to the recent expansion of knowledge, the reality of socio-economic change

and the multi-faceted needs of the individual in contemporary society. This aim lay

behind the convening of the First World Conference on Muslim Education in Mecca in

1977: to develop a genuinely Islamic system of education appropriate for students in

the modem world at all levels (al-Attas, 1979; Husain and Ashraf, 1979). In 1980, a

Universal Islamic Declaration was drawn up under the auspices of the Islamic Council

of Europe, which had this to say about education:

Education is an important corner-stone of the Islamic system. Pursuit of is knowledge obligatory for all Muslims, including knowledge of skills,

171 ChapterEight

crafts and vocations. Someof the basic principles of Islamic educational

policy are:

(a) There shall be universal basic educationfor all men and women in society,and adequatenational resourcesshall be madeavailable for this purpose.

(b) The purposeof educationshall be to producepeople who are imbued with Islamic learning and character and are capable of meeting all the

economic,social, political, technological,physical, intellectual and aesthetic

needsof society.

today in the Muslim World should be fused together so as to provide an

Islamic vision for those engaged in education, and to enable them to

reconstructhuman thought, in all itsforms, on thefoundationsof Islam.

(Azzam, 1982,p 262-3)

Islamic scholarsand educationalistsare currently working on the Islamisationof educationin line with theseprinciples in a numberof countries,including Nigeria (cf S A Lemu, 1987; BA Lemu, 1988; Yusuf, 1989), Malaysia (cf Sidin, 1987; Sanusi,

1989),Pakistan (cf Saad,1987) and Bangladesh(cf Nagi, 1987),as well as in the UX (Ashraf, 1989a). The term 'Islamisation(or Islamification) of education, althoughin commonusage among Islamic scholars,is somewhatmisleading because it implies that the processstarts with someconcept of education, which is then shifted or adaptedin someway to make it compatible with Islam. In fact, the reverseprocedure is being adopted,the fundamentalbeliefs and values of Islam provide a fi-ameworkwithin which a genuinelyIslamic approachto educationcan be workedout.

172 ChapterEight

In the next sectionof the presentChapter I shall attemptto sketchan Islamic view of educationin line with this process,based on four sources: first, the recent and substantialwork carried out in the wake of the First World Conferenceon Muslim Educationby Islamic scholarsthroughout the world; secondly,the practicalexperiments in the Islamisationof educationcarried out in a numberof Muslim countries;thirdly, the traditionalMuslim educationprovided over the centuriesin the katatib andthe nodaris; and finally, and most significantly, the Islamic framework of values set out in the previouschapter. From thesesources it is hopedthat therewill emergea consistentyet distinctively Islamic perspectiveon educationalaims, teaching methods, the contextof schoolingand the curriculum. 'Me Chapterwill concludewith a brief liberal critique of the Islamic view of educationthat has beenpresented, and a Muslim responseto that critique.

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The three Arabic words for'education' emphasisethree different dimensionsin the educationalprocess and thus provide a useful starting point for an analysisof the aims of educationon an Islamic view. Tarbiya comesfrom the root raba (to grow, increase)and it refers to the goal-orientedprocess of rearing or bringing a child up to a stateof completenessor maturity. Tadib comesfrom the root aduba (to be refined, disciplined, cultured) and refers to the processof learning a sound basis for social behaviourwithin the communityand societyat large. It includescoming to understand and acceptthe most fundamentalsocial principles suchas justice (cf al-Attas, 1979,pp 2-4). The third term, ta'lim, comes from the root 'alima (to know, be informed, perceive, discern) and refers to the imparting and receiving of knowledge, usually throughtraining, instruction or other form of teaching. To analyseeducation in terms of (i) aiding individual development,(ii) increasingunderstanding of the society of which the individual is part, and its laws and valuesand (iii) transmittingknowledge, is by no meansexclusive to Islamic thinking. What createsa distinctively Islamic view of

173 ChapterEight educationis the applicationto thesethree dimensions of the principle that no aspectof a MuslinYslife canremain untouched by religion. Thus whereasthe liberal educationalist will discussindividual developmentin termsof the developmentof personaland moral autonomy,in Islam it will be discussedin terms of the balancedgrowth of all sidesof the individual's personality,including the spiritual and moral, leading to a higher level of religious understanding and commitment in all areas of life. The liberal educationalist will see the most justifiable form of society as an open, pluralist, democraticone, whereasin Islam the bestsociety is one organisedin accordancewith divine law. The liberal will arguethat no one setof religiousbeliefs can be shownto be objectively true, and that critical opennessand free debateprovide the most rational meansfor advancingthe pursuit of faith. Islamic educationalists,on the other hand, though they as much as liberals claim to be engagedin the questfor truth in all things

(which they see as an act of worship in itself: cf I Al-Faruqi, 1982 p 152), do not acceptthat therecan be any discrepancybetween revealed (mukashlfa) or transmitted

(naqh) knowledgeand intellectual(aqli) or attained(husuh) knowledge, and therefore seea placefor both equally in any kind of educationalprovision. On an Islamic view, educationcannot ignore

the whole content of reality, both material and spiritual, which plays a dominantrole in determiningthe natureand destinyof non and society. (Husainand Ashraf, 1979,p ix)

'Mese three dimensionsprovide the three basic objectivesof Islamic education.

Khan (1987) summarisesthem as follows : the 'intellectual, moral and spiritual developmentof man'; the'Muslim. requirementsof a good life in the serviceof Allah'; and'to gain knowledge(71m) for good action'. Let us look at eachof theserather more closely.

174 ChapterEight

First, individual development. A fundamentalaim of Islamic educationis to provide children with positive guidancewhich will help them to grow into goodadults who will lead happyand fruitful lives in this world and aspireto achievethe rewardof the faithful in the world to come. What precisely is meant by good adults has been spelledout alreadyin ChapterSeven, where the Islamic conceptof the humanbeing is considered. Briefly, the goodnessof human beings on an Islamic view lies in their willingnessto recognisetheir positionof divine stewardship(Khalifat-allah) and accept the obligationswhich this position entails; to seekto take on the divine attributessuch as hikma (wisdom) and 'adl Oustice) which have been clarified through divine revelation; to strive for the balancedgrowth of the integratedpersonality, made up of the heart, the spirit, the intellect, the feelings and the bodily senses;to develop their potential to becomeinsan kamil (the perfect humanbeing); and to allow the whole of their lives to be governedby Islamic principles, so that whatever they do, however mundane,becomes an act of worship. The purposeof educationis to guide children towardsthese goals. Peopledo not achievetheir potential automatically,for by nature they are forgetful and open to the influence of injustice and ignorance;it is through educationthat they developthe wisdom (hikrna) and faith (iman) which help them to take pleasurein doing good and neverto lose sight of their relationshipwith God. This view of individual developmenthas profound consequencesfor what is to be taughtin schoolsand how it is to be taught,as will shortly becomeclear.

Secondly,education, like religion, can neverbe a purely individual affair, this is becauseindividual development cannot take place without regard for the social environment in which it occurs, but more profoundly becauseeducation, in that it servesmany individuals, is a meansfor making societywhat it is. Educationmay thus be a vehicle for preserving, extending and transmitting a community's or society's cultural heritage and traditional values, but can also be a tool for social changeand innovation. The strong senseof community in Islam, from the local level of the extendedfamily and the mosqueto the worldwide communityof believers(wnma), has

175 ChapterEight alreadybeen emphasised in ChapterSeven. What binds the communitytogether is the senseof equalityin the eyesof the sharia (divine law) and it is acceptanceof the sharl'a that makesa persona Muslim. In Islam, social existencehas exactly the samegoal as individual existence: the realisationon earth of divinely ordainedmoral imperatives. Indeed,the spiritual growth of the individual (tariqa) can take place only within the shari'a. Both sharid and tariqa are metaphors,the former carrying the literal meaning of a broad highway, the latter a narrow path. The Muslim community walk together along the broadhighway of the divine law, which setsout Gcds will for peoplein both their private and their social life and helps them to live harmoniouslives in this world andprepare themselves for the life to come. The socialdimension of educationin Islam is therefore eventually a matter of coming to understandand learning to follow the divine law, which containsnot only universalmoral principles (suchas equality among people,justice and charity), but also detailed instructionsrelating to every aspectof human life. The sharia integrates political, social and economic life as well as individual life into a singlereligious world view. In Islam thereforethere is no question of individuals being encouragedthrough educationto work out for themselvestheir own religious faith, or to subjectit to detachedrational investigationat a fundamental level; the divine revelation containedin the sharl'a provides them with the requisite knowledgeof truth and falsehood,right and wrong, and the task of individuals is to cometo understandthis knowledgeand exercise their free will to choosewhich path to follow. The notion of free will in Islam, as we saw in Chapter Seven, is a very unsophisticatedone, involving simply the choice to accept or reject the complete packageof beliefs,and contracts sharply with the liberal notion of personalautonomy.

The Islamic ideal, accordingto which thereis no separationof religion and state, can of course only be a reality in a Muslim country. Where Muslims are in the minority, as in the U.K., their consciousnessof being a community bound togetherby a sharedfaith

176 ChapterEight

is coupledin the large majority of caseswith an equally strong desireto be

truly British, full membersof the wider community,enjoying equal rights

and sharingsimilar responsibilitiesas all other citizens. (IslamicAcademy, 1987)

The social dimension of educationfor British Muslims would therefore seem necessarilyto involve an understandingof the principles and valueswhich lie behind the notion of British citizenship. However,if Muslim children are to learn the values on which British citizenshipis basedin total isolation from the religious valueswhich underpintheir membershipof the worldwide Islamic community,then a fragmentation beginsto enter into the educationalprocess which is totally alien to the fundamental Islamic principle of tawhid (unity). A liberal approachinvolving a commitmentto free critical debate and the presentation of religious values from an open, detached perspectivewould achieve the necessaryintegration, but at the cost of displacing religion from its pivotal position in every dimensionof life, including education. 'Me only approachto social educationwhich would appearto be compatiblewith Islamic principles is to put the religious values at the heart of the educationalprocess for

Muslim children, but then to build into the processwhatever else they needin order to learn to live as full British citizens. As al-Attas (1979, p 32) points out, it is more fundamentalin Islarn to producea goodman than a goodcitizen, for the goodman will also no doubt be a good citizen, but the good citizen will not necessarilyalso be a good man. The consequencesof such an approachfor the curriculum and the context of schoolingwill be discussedshortly.

The third dimensionof educationinvolves the transmissionof knowledge,and particularly the selectionof what knowledgeis to be transmitted. Much work remains to be doneon Islamic epistemology,though the Islamic theologianal-Ghazali, the social theorist Ibn Khaldun and the various Muslim philosophershave all made significant As far contributions. as the nature of knowledge goes, one point on which all are

177 ChapterEight united is that knowledgecannot be divided into two classes,one secularand the other religious. All knowledgecomes from God, and servesultimately to makepeople aware of God and of their relationship with God. In his Kitab al-71m, the ninth-century mystic Al-Muhasibiclassifies knowledge into threetypes:

first, knowledgeof what is lawful and unlawful, which is knowledgeof what concernsthis world and is outward knowledge;second, knowledge of what concerns the next world, which is inward knowledge; third, knowledge of God and His laws concerning His creatures in the two

worlds, and this is a fathomless sea, and only the most learned of the faithfid attain to it.

(Smith, 1935,p 57)

More normally in Islam, however,knowledge is categorisednot accordingto its scope but according to its derivation. The First World Conference on Muslim Educationbased its classificationof knowledgeon the distinctionbetween that which is derived from divine revelation and that which is derived frorn'the humanintellect and

its tools which are in constantinteraction with the physical universeon the levels of observation,contemplation, experimentation and application' (al-Attas, 1979,pp vii,

159). Ibn Khaldun (1958) subdivides the latter category into knowledge which is based on senseexperience and knowledge which is based on logic and rational

thinking. In Islam, the knowledge which is derived from divine revelation is the highest knowledge,not only becauseit relatesmost directly to God himself and his

attributes,but also becauseit providesan essentialfoundation for all other knowledge.

As was pointed out in ChapterSeven, people are free to do as they pleaseso long as

they remain loyal to the divine injunctions containedin the Qu'ran and the sharid.

Indeed,any pursuit of knowledgemay be viewed as a form of worship in Islam so long

as it is undertakenwithin the boundariesdefined by revelation. The educational consequencesof this are clear. whateverother knowledgeis to be transmittedthrough

178 ChapterEight education,the knowledgewhich is derivedfi-om divine revelationis obligatory. Ashraf (1988b, pp 13-17) provides a rather more sophisticated hierarchical ranking of knowledge,involving a five-fold categorisationbased on the derivation, nature and valueof knowledge:

(i) spiritual knowledge,i. e. knowledgeof God and his attributes;

(ii) moral knowledge,based on universalvalues linked to divine attributes;

(iii) intellectual knowledge,i. e. that acquiredthrough the applicationof reasonand logic;

(iv) knowledgewhich is derivedfrom andhelps to disciplinethe imagination;

(v) knowledgethat growsfrom and helpsto discipline sense-experience.

Since(i) and (ii) arethe most important,they haveto be'instilled into a child from the earliest stages' (Ashraf, 1985, p 5), though the understanding of spiritual knowledgeis likely to be achievedlast, after an adequatetraining of the bodily sense, the imaginationand the rationalpowers:

Intellectual discipline will help a child to proceedfrom the concreteto the

abstract, from sense impression to ideation, and from matter-of-fact relationship to symbolisation. It is only when theseabilities start growing

that a child begins to appreciate the inter-relationship of disciplines and

realiseswhat he is emotionallyconditioned to believe,that is, thepresence of the Will of God in Nature and Man and how the entire creation is

ayatullah,signs of God, manifestationof divine power, symbolsof reality.

(ibid., pp 5-6)

179 ChapterEight

The imparting of knowledge is not an educational goal in itself in Islam, but merely a meansto an end, as al-Ghazalipoints out (n.d., Vol L pp 83-9). The pursuit of knowledgeis worthwhile only if it stimulatesthe moral and spiritual consciousness of the studentand leadsto 'iman (faith) and 'amal-i salih (virtuous action), which are constantly emphasisedin the Qu:ean (e.g. Sura 103, v 3). 71m (knowledge), 'iman (faith) and 'amal (action)go handin hand,and togetherthey generateyaqin (certainty). Certainty may sometimesbe obtainedthrough an acceptanceof what the 'ulama'(the learned)teach about the Quran and the PropheL Islam thereforeencourages an attitude of respectfulhumility towards such legitimate authority, and trust in the truth of the knowledge which it hands down. What ties all knowledge together into a unity, however,is the conceptof yaqin (certainty);the Qdan says'And serveyour Lord until certainty comesto you'. (Sum 15, v 99). Certainty is the conviction of al-Haqq (the

truth), one of the namesof God himself.

The Islamic conception of knowledge is thus at variance with the Western

conceptionin two key points: first, it includesmatters of faith.and belief as if they were

unproblematic;and secondly,it is not seenas valuable in itself or for, say, liberation, but is valuableonly in so far as it servesto inculcategoodness in the individual and in

the whole community. The implicationsfor educationare that the cultivation of faith is an essentialpart of educationand that there is no justification for setting children free from their spiritual or moral mooringsor creating doubt in their minds aboutrevealed

knowledge(Ashraf, 1988c,p 1). Ibis doesnot mean,as Badawi (1979,p 117) points out, that religion shouldbe used

hamper innovative idea to the spirit of man, ... to stifle any new or to cripple scientificenquiry.

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He arguesthat so long as society is religious and so long as sciencedoes not impingeon the provinceof religion, studentsmust be allowedto specialiseand students of medicineor engineeringor geographycannot be expectedto devoteas much time to religious issuesas studentsworking in Islamic studies. However,religious education needsto be harmonisedwith all other disciplines,so that the Islamic principle that the pursuit of knowledge,whether religious or scientific, is 'a form of worship by which man is brought into closer contact with Allah' (Jarnjoornin al-Attas, 1979, p vi) becomesa reality for Muslim students. Educationis thus not to be seenas an end in itself, but as a way of bringing children more into line with God's purposes. Faith in God is axiomatic and is a major factor in determiningwho is to do the teaching,how

and where the teachingis to be carried out and what is to be taught. It is now time to

turn to a closer examinationof theseissues and to consider an Islamic view of the teacher,the contextof educationand the curriculum.

Traditional Muslim educationin the kuttab and the madrasa providesus with a very differentview of the role of the teacherfrom that currentlyheld in Westernsociety, but one which is muchcloser to fundamentalIslan-dc principles. Teachersenjoyed very

high statusin the Muslim community,not leastbecause of the emphasisthe Quran and the hadith place on the pursuit of knowledge. But to be consideredan Vim (a learned man) involved dutiesas well as privileges. Teachingwas consideredalmost a religious obligation,and teacherswere expectedto showdedication and commitment in their task of consolidating the faith and spreading knowledge. Teachers had a special

responsibilityto nurturethe young anddevelop their spiritual and moral awareness,and

it was recognisedthat this was as likely to occur 'through imitation of a teacherand personalcontact with hirrf (Ibn Khaldun, 1967,p 426) as through instruction. For this

reasonteachers were expectednot only to be learned,but also to have a deeppersonal

commitmentto the faith and to be a living exampleof virtue and piety which students

could unhesitatinglyemulate. Ile teacherswere accountableto the communitynot only

for transmitting knowledge and for developing their students!potential as rational

181 ChapterEight beings,but also for initiating them into the moral, religious and spiritual valueswhich the community cherished. Recent writers (e.g. Ashraf, 1988c, p 2) have drawn attention to the fact that the teacher'sattitudes, characters,habits and beliefs will necessarilyinfluence their studentsand have argued strongly that Muslim children shouldbe taughtby teachers,whatever their academicdiscipline, who arebelievers and whoselives are groundedon an unquestionedmoral integrity. Ibis provides another point of strongcontrast with the liberal view.

As far as pedagogyis concerned,however, modem Islamic educationcannot be consideredbound by the traditionsof Muslim educationover the centuries. The useof corporalpunishment, for example,which continuesto be widespreadin the katatib and the madaris, is groundedin tradition rather than in Islamic principles, and indeedal- Ghazali in his Ihya"Ulum ad-Din (n.d. ) and Ibn Khaldun (1958) both disagreewith the harshtreatment of children as psychologicallydamaging and likely to distort their love of learning and their understandingof humandignity. Similarly, the traditional dependenceon rote-leamingand memorisationis not intrinsic to Islamic education,as

Ibn Khaldun (1958) recognisedsix hundredyears ago when he defined educationas'a special skill whose aim is to establishthe faculty of knowledge in those who learn, rather than to force them to memorise the offshoots of knowledge'. Nevertheless, modem Islamic educationis likely to find much that is of value in traditional Muslim education, and indeed, as Badawi (1979) has shown, the latter has a number of characteristicswhich would appearstrikingly modemeven to Westerneyes. Thereis a naturalintegration of the curriculum, thereis a closepersonal relationship between the teacher and the taught, elitism is discouraged, undue attention is not paid to

examinations,pupil groupingis lessrigid and studentsare comparativelyfree to pursue

their own interests. Above all, traditionalMuslim educationis not an activity separated

from other aspectsof society;it is rooted in the community it serves,responding to its needsand aspirations and preserving its valuesand beliefs.

182 ChapterEight

What is absolutelyvital on an Islamic view of educationis that the ethosof the school is in harmony with fundamentalIslamic principles, so that children are not alienatedfrom the community to which they belong but are encouragedto become

awareof their roots in that communityand to understandits values. Sinceeducation is consideredin Islam to be a lifelong process,of which formal educationin schoolsand colleges is only one part, it is important for the integrated development of the personality that formal educationshould not pull the individual in a totally different directionfrom the informal educationthat takesplace through such social institutions as the family, the local community,the mosque,the social or youth centreor the placeof

work (cf Khan, 1981, p 127). Muslim parentsdo not want schoolsto encouragea rift

betweenchildren and parentsor to causeconflict in children's minds. Children are

immatureand vulnerableto manipulationof various kinds, and needthe stability and

securitythat comesfrom beingencouraged to conform at schoolto a coherentset of life

principleswhich areconsistent with the belief systemof their homeand community. If

the ethosof the schoolis to be in harmonywith fundamentalprinciples, this meansthat

schoolsshould never put children in a position where they arerequired to act contrary to their faith. This has consequencesfor many aspects of school organisation,

including uniform, school meals and co-education as well as several areasof the curriculum, which will be discussedshortly. It also meansthat children shouldnot be

encouragedto developa questioningattitude to their own religion, or be forced into a position wherethey haveto makea choicebetween a religious and a non-religiousway

of life, before they have developedthe maturity of judgement,wisdom and breadthof knowledgeand understandingwhich would make such a choice meaningful (Ashraf, 1988c, p 2). Finally, it means that schools should not allow children to pick up

messagesthrough the hiddencurriculum (for example,through peer group pressureor

the way the schoolis organised)that are likely directly or indirectly to underminetheir

faith. Al-Taftazani (1986,p 73) arguesthat customis an important way of establishing

principles in people's hearts. If a school has an Islamic ethos, it is constantly

183 I ChapterEight reinforcing the senseof inward attachmentto Islam which, as we have seen,is one of the basicobjectives of Islamiceducation.

On the basisof what hasbeen said so far, two principlescan be setout according to which an Islamiccurriculum must be constructed:

Educationmust not be separatedinto two kinds - religious and secular. On the contrary,religion, which affectsevery aspectof life for the Muslim, must be at the very heartof all educationas well as acting as the glue which holds together the entirecurriculum into an integratedwhole;

(ii) Muslims are free to study exactly what they please,so long as they do it in the

spirit of Islam. Equally, althoughin the past'learning'in Islam was associated

with a balanceand breadthof knowledge, Muslims must now be considered free to specialisein any branchof knowledge,subject only to the sameproviso

of remainingfully committedto the fundamentalbeliefs and values of Islam.

A number of features emerge from these two basic principles, which must characterisethe Islamic curriculum. First, it must contain specific teachingabout God and the way he has revealedhimself to human beings, and guidanceabout how to regulatelife in accordancewith the divine injunctionscontained in the Quran and the shari'a. For otherwise,it would be impossibleto know whetherone! s pursuit of other knowledgewas in the spirit of Islam or not. Secondly,the autonomyof the subjector

discipline at least as understoodin liberal thinking, is excluded,for all subjectsand all

knowledge need the guiding spirit of religion to give them purposeand direction; if

religion is ignored, Muslims feel there is a dangerthat the pursuit of any domain of

knowledge might lead to doubt, deception and constant searchingand even to the

corruption of faith and morals. Thirdly, it is clear that many subjects,perhaps all,

cannotbe studiedas they are in the West. The changesthat are required fall into three categories:

184 ChapterEight

(a) Some subjectsneed specific changesto be made to their typical syllabuses

and/or organisation in the West if they are to avoid the contravention of

particular Islamic injunctions. For example,the tastingor handlingof any pig productsmust be completelyavoided in Home Economics,and the organisation of physical education,games and swimming must be adaptedso that Muslim children, especiallygirls, are not encouragedor requiredto contraveneIslamic rules on modestyand decency.

(b) Some subjectsand topics that appearon Western curricula are best avoided

altogetheras likely to indulge, or encouragethe improper use of, the bodily sensesrather than disciplining them in the spirit of Islam. Thesesubjects and topics include sex education,dancing, some aspects of art (e.g. nudedrawing)

and someaspects of music (especiallymodem popular music).

(c) Somesubjects need radical transformationto bring them into line with Islamic values. Religious educationis itself a prime example. As I have pointed out

elsewhere(Halstead and Kahn-Cheema,1987, pp 24-30), Muslims are not

happy with reducing the teaching of Islam as far as their own children are concerned to one element in a world religious course, and they find the secularisationof religious educationvirtually incomprehensible..They believe

that nurturein the faith is still centralto religiouseducation, which they consider

to involve teachingabout the value of religion generally and the provision of information aboutdifferent religions as well as specificinstruction in the child!s

own religion. Because they place considerable emphasis on learning by

example,they do not acceptthat RE could ever be taughtby an atheist,and they

cannotsee any justification for forcing childrento stepoutside their own faith in ordercritically to assessits most fundamentalbeliefs.

185 ChapterEight

Apart from RE, a considerableamount of work has alreadybeen done on ways to bring other subjectsinto line with Islamic beliefs and values; theseinclude natural science(Naseef and Black, 1987;Mabud, 1988;Qutb, 1979;Nasr, 1982 1987b,1988; Ashraf, 1986b; Bakr 1984); social science(I al-Faruqi, 1981; Majal, 1988; Sharifi, 1985; Zaman, 1984; Ba-Yunus and Ahmad, 1985; Mutahhari, 1986); history (Qutb,

1979); philosophy (Nasr, 1982); and literature (Ashraf and Medcalf, 1985; Ashraf 1982).Although it is sometimespresented as such (e.g. Shalabi, 1980),the processof radical transformationof the curriculumconsists of much more than merely grafting or transplanting into modem Western knowledge an Islamic component; similarly it consists of much more than merely expunging what is directly offensive to Islam, thoughthat may be an importantfirst step. What is requiredis the reconstructionof the entirediscipline in accordancewith Islamic principles. One examplemay be sufficient to illustratehow this processmay work out in practice.

Art clearly has a significant place in the Islamic world view, and such typical examplesas Kufic calligraphy,mosque architecture and carpet weaving unambiguously reflect in both spirit and form their sourcesin Islamic revelation. Yet becauseof the

absenceof an Islamic philosophyof art, an Islamic theoryof aestheticsor an Islamic art criticism, Westerncriteria tendto be appliednot only by Westernstudents of Islamic art but by Muslim studentsas well. Nasr (1989) arguesstrongly that art, whetherWestern

or Islamic, must in future be taughtto Muslims from an Islamic perspective,and that a satisfactory Islamic philosophy of art must be developed to provide the basis and framework of art education. This will involve an examinationof the Qu'ran and the

sunna, together with the works of Islamic theologians,philosophers, scientists and

mysticsand the codification of Islamic views of beauty,the origin of form, the concept

of space,the natureof matter,the relation betweenunity and multiplicity, permanence and change,the fragility of the world, the senseof rhythm, symbolismand truth as well

as the meaning,function, role and spiritual and social significanceof art. It is likely to

186 ChapterEight involve a totally new hierarchicalranking of typesof art, (cf L Al-Faruqi, 1982,p 201 ff) with the high position of calligraphy,geometric and arabesquedesigns, architecture and crafts being reflectedin the art curriculum of schools. The goal of art education would be to seeIslamic art onceagain' with an eye illuminatedby the vision of faith in the Islamic revelation!and to encouragethe creationof works of art by Muslim artists 'which Creator His beauty in and artisans continue to praise the and to reflect ... accordancewith the Islamic conceptionof Man as God!s vice regent(khalifat-Allah) on eartW(Nasr, 1989,p 10).

In art, asin all aspectsof Islamic education,the aim is clear. to involve religion at a fundamentallevel in everythingthat is to be studied,to help childrento understandthe importanceof religion to every aspectof life, to encouragetheir commitmentto a way of life lived in accordancewith divine injunctions. We must now turn to a liberal critique of the Islamic view of educationthat hasbeen expounded in this chapter.

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From a liberal perspective,the Islamic view of educationset out abovehas deep flaws. First, it assumesthe truth of a set of religious beliefs whose truth cannot be establishedobjectively, and puts the transmissionof thesebeliefs, without leaving them in any senseopen to critical evaluation,at the heartof the educationalexperience. On this view, Islamic educationis not really educationat all, but a form of indoctrination. Secondly,the characterof other kinds of knowledgeis obscured,because the autonomy

of the subjector discipline is not recognised. Thirdly, Islamic educationoffends the

fundamentalliberal value of the freedomof the individual, for insteadof encouraging

children to becomepersonally and morally autonomousand to work out their own life

plans for themselvesfree from externalconstraint, it unashamedlyguides them, willy- nilly, into a pre-determinedway of life. On a liberal view, educationshould liberate children,free them from the constraintsof the presentand the particular (Bailey, 1984);

187 ChapterEight it can never be the purposeof educationmerely to confirm any group in their own culture,as Phenix(1965, p 90 f) points out:

The purpose of academic teaching is to increase understanding,not to

advocatea particular religious position. The only proper advocacyin the scholarly communityis that of truth, and truth may manifestly be served

bestby remainingopen to thepossibility of newand better understanding.

Thesecriticisms clearly strike at thevery heartof the conceptof Islamic education, and cannot be ignored by Islamic thinkers. In fact, liberal educationalistshave not written very much aboutIslamic educationdirectly, but most of what hasbeen written in recent yearsin opposition to Christian educationand the Church school systemis based on principles which are equally relevant to the liberal case against Islamic education. Indeed,when dismissing'the whole idea of Christian education!as'a kind of nonsense',11irst (1974b, p 7,77) makes it clear that what he says about the Christianreligion is likely to applyjust as much to other faiths. And when Flew (1972, p 106)describes the educationalprogramme of the RomanCatholic Churchas a model caseof indoctrination,he would no doubt say the sameabout any systemof schooling,

(Islamicor other)which maintainedits separateexistence solely or primarily to inculcate its own distinctivedoctrines in the young.

The notion of indoctrination provides an appropriatestarting point for a closer

exanfinationof the liberal caseagainst Islamic education.Liberal educationalistswould

no doubt agreewith Barrow (1981, p 150) that schoolswhich have 'the intention of beliefs indoctrination', if committing children to a set of ... are guilty of particularly the aim is to make the beliefs unshakeableones (White, 1967,p 189; Flew, 1972,p 75)

and if they are the beliefs of a restrictednumber of peoplewhere the restriction follows from their inability 'to provide publicly acceptableevidence for their truth! (Gribble,

1969,p 34). Indoctrination, we are told, may even occur unintentionally, if teachers

188 ChapterEight take for grantedcertain beliefs in their teaching(White, 1967,p 189) or speakof their beliefs with a particular 'emotionalwarmth! (Cox, 1983,p 65). Indoctrinationis both morally and intellectually objectionable. Morally, becauseit conflicts with the obligation to bring up children as morally autonomouspeople (White, 1982,p 166);it implies a lack of respectfor personsby denying them 'independenceand control over their lives' (Kleinig, 1982,p 65). Intellectually,because it subordinatesa commitment to reasonto a set of beliefs that cannot be shown objectively to be true, and fails to makeplain to childrenthe controversialor questionablestatus of thosebeliefs.

Hirst in particular has expandedin the latter point in considerabledetail. He distinguishesbetween a 'primitive' concept of education in which a group merely passeson what it holds to be true or valuableto the next generation(1974b, p 80), and a 'muchmore sophisticatedview of educationwhich stressesan open,rational, critical approachto all beliefs, designedso that pupils will develop 'commitmentto justified beliefs on appropriategrounds'. (1983, p 3). It is acknowledgedon this latter view that educationmust start with some system of beliefs, but the maintenanceof that systemis not an educationalgoal. Educationaims instead'at the developmentof the rational life of every individual' (1985, p 13). In caseswhere particular beliefs are contested(religious and moral beliefsare particularly relevant here, though Hirst (1985, p 2) arguesthat it is in the natureof every kind of belief to be challengeable)this is best dealt with preciselyby presentingchallengeable beliefs as challengeable,and by outlining the nature and extent of the challenge in any given area. The critical examination of different and rival belief systems should be encouraged,so that individuals may develop commitment to what they judge to be the most rationally justifiable beliefs and values in their particular circumstances. Education must be

'open-endedin the outcome of particular beliefs which pupils might come to hold!

(1983, p 3). Hirst questionswhether the 'primitive' conceptof educationmentioned above is really educationat all, since the aim of propagatingany faith is 'something quite other than education'(1974b, p 89); but in the more sophisticatedsense of open,

189 ChapterEight rational development,'there can be no such thing as a Christian educatiore(1972, p 11), becausereligious beliefs are a matterof private individual commitment,there is a lack of agreementnot only about the statusof religious beliefs but even about the criteria by which such beliefs could be judged (1967, p 331), and thereforereligious beliefs must not be allowedto'determine public issues'such as education(1974b, p 3). According to Hirst, religion should be studiedas part of education(1973, p 10), and such study should involve genuineempathy and an appropriateform of engagement, but the teachingmust be accompaniedby a clear indicationof the statusof the religious claims (1972, p 8), and 'it is necessaryto education that no religious position be embraced!(1974b, p 89). Children must be left free to maketheir own decisionsabout what attitudeto havetowards religious beliefs.

The position advancedby Hirst is so very far removedfrom the Islamic view of education set out in the present chapter, that there is a danger of a total lack of comprehension.Unless some way can be found of makingone setof claims intelligible to the other side the disagreementwill stay at the level of mere assertionand counter- assertion,with no real communicationor dialoguetaking place. I havealready said that liberals have not so far engageddirectly in any seriousway with the Islamic view of education, but it is equally true that no serious attempt has been made by Muslim scholarsto respond to the chargesliberals have made against a religiously oriented education,at least in languagewhich liberals can understand. So the first point that needsto be establishedis whether dialogue betweenliberals and Muslims is in fact possible, whether the languagethey speakhas enough in common for some sort of debateto proceed. Can the Muslims, for example,respond to Hirst's chargesin a way which accordswith Islamic principles yet in languagewhich is familiar, or at least comprehensible,to liberals? As a non-Muslim with a life-long experienceof Islam, I have attemptedelsewhere (Halstead, 1986) to sketchout a few possiblestarting points for Islamic an responsewhich meets these conditions. The present chapter will concludewith a brief summaryof these.

190 ChapterEight

PossibleIslamic rejoinders to the liberal critique of Islamic educationfaU into threemain categories.The first focusseson the conceptof indoctrination,and involves the claim that thereis a significantdifference between enforcing belief andencouraging it. The secondrelates to the nature of belief and proposesthat religious beliefs are essentiallydifferent from othertypes of belief, suchas scientificones, and hence cannot be validated or dismissedby the samecriteria. The third picks up the concept of autonomyand arguesthat there are limits to people'scontrol over their own lives and that individuals can never make decisionsin isolation from the community in which they live. Let us look at eachof thesein turn.

There is an ambiguity in the conceptof indoctrination, as indeed there is in the phrase'inculcating belief which was usedearlier. It can be understoodin the strong senseof forcing children into the position where they come to acceptthe truth of a proposition or set of propositions 'in such a way that nothing will shakethe belief'

(White, 1967,p 181), or in the weaker senseof the presentationof a definite world view to children as part of a 'coherentprimary culture! (Ackerman, 1980, p 141; cf

McLaughlin, 1984, p 78), which provides them with a stable moral and religious foundationuntil they are old enoughto make up their own minds aboutreligion. The former is certainly as alien to the spirit of Islam as it is to liberalism. Islam has never supportedcompulsion in religion (cf Brohi, 1979,p 74) and has always acceptedthat individuals must make their own free choice when it comesto religious commitment

(Ashraf, 1988b, p 2). Hulmes (1979, p 13) argues in any case that a remarkable numberof people do in fact escapefrom the consequencesof even the most rigorous indoctrination, and that it is perhapsmore difficult to achieve indoctrination in the strong sensethan has sometimesbeen claimed. The weakersense of indoctrinationis more problematic. Liberals commonly claim that religious values and beliefs must be taught in a way that does not prejudice the individual's right to choose between religions or betweenreligious and non-religious world views or even to stand back from the whole debate(cf Kenny, 1983)and that this requiressome sort of neutrality in

191 ChaplerEight the presentation of religion in schools. But there are both logical and practical difficulties with any suchneutral approach. Clearly, different religiouspositions cannot eachbe presentedas 'true', as Hardy (1982,pI 11) points out, sinceaccepting the truth of one tradition requiresthat other traditions be dismissedas mere truth claims; but if we presenteach tradition as a truth claim, then we have abandonedour neutrality and prejudgedthe questionwhether any tradition is in fact true. At least,the pupil is likely to pick up the hidden-curriculummessage that neutrality is superiorto commitment,or

eventhat disbelief is superiorto belief (cf Barrow, 1974,p 56). In practice,the neutral approachdoes not often extendbeyond education about religion, andreduces the study

of religion to history, literature, sociology or generalknowledge. While this may go

someway to encouraginga sympatheticattitude to differentfaiths, it can only promotea

very limited religiousunderstanding. Even to encouragechildren to enterimaginatively into the experiencesof believers is unsatisfactory,for there is a world of different betweenacting a king in role play and actuallybeing a king. The understandingwhich

theseapproaches develop is incompletebecause they miss the essentialingredient of

commitment, which 'is, ultimately, what religion is about! (Hulmes, 1979, p 79).

On the Islamic view, children are to be educatedin a schoolwhose ethos is consistent

with the valuesand beliefsof their parentsand local community,by teacherswho serve as examplesof reflective commitmentto thosevalues (cf Dunlop, 1984,p 110 f). 'Me

aim of sucheducation, however, is not to imprison children within a particularculture, and it is ratherodd to call the process'indoctrination', at leastif the term is to retain its pedorative sense. For children's minds do not operate in a vacuum until they are

matureenough to reflect on the natureof socialor moral rules and it seemsbetter to set them to work on what their parentsand community believeto be of value than to leave

them floundering, open to exploitation by the unscrupulous, or an easy prey to

irrational pressures.Further justification for sucha processis not hard to find. White

(1982, p 93 f) talks of the need for individuals to learn to resolve conflicts for

themselves,but the resolution of conflicts presupposesan acceptanceof beliefs, for

conflicts are real only if the rules in conflict are seenas binding. Logically, therefore,

192 ChapterM& the acceptanceof rules, not just an awarenessof them, must precedethe capacity to resolveconflict (cf Peters,198 1, p 169). Secondly,it is logically impossibleto makea rational choicebetween moral rules without knowing what a rule is. Children needto be taught the natureof rules (cf Straughan,1982), and the understandinginvolved is likely to come through practice and experienceof rules. Thirdly, one cannot simply inform childrenof the optionsavailable, train them in rationaldecision-making and then leaveit up to them. They needemotional stability, securityand confidence if they areto grow into mature, responsible,reflective, authentic adults, and an educationwhich providesthem with a coherent,stable world view basedon the beliefs and valuesthey have met through their primary socialisationat home would appearto satisfy these

conditionsparticularly well.

The secondIslamic responseto the liberal critique involves a rejection of Hirst's

claim that all beliefs are the result of conceptualschemes that have beendevised or

constructedto 'capture'human experience, and that all beliefs are thereforeessentially

challengeableand shouldbe presentedas suchto children (1983,p 3). Muslims would

haveno difficulty in acceptingthis claim with regardto scientific,political and all other

beliefs that are the product of human activity, which Ashraf (1988, p 1) calls

'conjectural'knowledge; but an Islamic perspectivedemands that religious beliefs be considereddifferent from otherbeliefs in their origin, their object,their natureand their scope. For the Muslim, the religious beliefs of Islam are foundedon divine revelation,

and to suggestthat they should be taught in a way that leaves them open to critical challengewould be to place the humanintellect abovethe divine. The Quran is Gods

final revelationto humanbeings, and thusreligious belief is anchoredin the absolutein

a way that other beliefs (scientific or political) arenot. In a passagealready quoted, the Qu:ean says

193 ChapterEight

When God and his messengerhave decreed a matter, it is not for any

believer, man or woman, to have the choice in the affair. Anyone who

disobeysGod and his messengerhas gone astray into manifesterror.

(Sura33, verse36)

Hirst (1983, p 3) arguesthat children must be encouragedto engagein 'critical reflection on beliefs in all areasin the interestsof rational beliefs'. Islamic beliefs, however,are seenultimately as a gift of God, in the form of inner illumination. Criteria of rationality, at least if starkly construed,cannot be all-pervasivein a discussionof appropriategrounds for assentto such religious beliefs. If, as is claimed, the beliefs are founded on divine revelation rather than on humanly constructed conceptual schemes,then a reflective investigation of them can only concern itself with the structureof beliefs that has been built upon this foundation of divine revelation, not with the revelationitself. This processmight reasonablyinvolve examiningthe socially constructed system of beliefs for internal coherenceby measuring it against the fundamentalclaims madeby the religion, but even this kind of 'measuring'is likely to be more productiveif it is basedon spiritual insight and wisdom rather than on narrow rationality. Indeed,such a processmay not be called critical, rational reflection at all unless rationality is conceived in very broad terms as taking into account the developmentof the whole humanpersonality: intuition, the conscience,the feelings, the will, the dispositionsand the moral, social and spiritual dimensionsof personality as well as the narrowlyrational.

I argueelsewhere (Halstead, 1986, ch 6) that thereare two sidesto faith in Islam: the private spiritual responseto religion, and the public structure of beliefs. These correspondto two Arabic terms that have alreadybeen discussed: tariqa, (literally, a narrow path), which refers to the individual's spiritual growth towards certainty and perfection, and sharid (literally, a broad highway), which refers to the divinely ordainedway of life for the whole community. The tariqa is a private individual matter

194 ChapterEight basedon spiritual experience,and it is difficult to explain in terms that are open to objective rational evaluation and assessment,though the concept is by no means exclusive to Islam. Wittgenstein(1958) suggeststhat there can be a suddenmoment when certainty comes to a person, though the ground will presumably have been alreadyprepared by the processof socialisation.MacIntyre (1959,p 219) saysthat it is a matter of conversion. Othershave seenits origin in the human will, or in a basic intuition aboutthe existenceof things. As alreadymentioned, Muslims seeit as a gift from God. Haqq al-yaqin (the truth of spiritual certainty) arisesfrom wahy (direct revelation from God) which speaksto the human heart, enabling people to perceive

God and understandthe meaning and purpose of existence. Individual spiritual experience,however, has to be attachedin someway to the 'real' world (Sealey,1985, p 11); otherwiseit might be totally unintelligible to an outsider and capableof being dismissedas a completeillusion. In Islam, individual spiritual experienceis attachedto

the'rear world by involving commitmentto a publicly recognisableway of life. When

sufficient people share the commitment, the way of life gains currency as a social structure. The Quran says,

For eachofyou we haveappointed a divine law and a way of life.

(Sura 5, verse52)

The shari"a (divine law) is the public expressionof Islam, and provides the unifying elementin the wnnw (communityof believers). Naturally, it is possiblefor an

individual to consentto the outer form of Islam and follow the preceptsof the sharid

without understandingor experiencingspiritual certainty himself, just as it is possible

for him to follow the precepts without appreciating their internal coherenceand

consistency.Ilie structureof Islamic law is in fact a remarkablyrational one,but when

it is arguedback to first principles it is found to dependon a consensusof spiritual

certainty which is sharedby the community of believers but which is not open to

objectivecritical investigation. Wittgensteinargues that it is impossibleto find criteria

195 ChapterEight by which to judge that the religious views of one community are inferior to thoseof another,one is simply committed to them or not, and it is impossible to justify (or condemn)such a commitmentoutside the way of life of which it forms a parL Within its own system,it may be totally coherentand justifiable, but the fundamentalprinciples on which it is basedcan only be understoodby those who accept the system. As Wittgenstein(1958, p 226) says,'What has to be accepted,the given, is - so one could 'forms life' he Muslims say - forms of life!, and by of appearsto mean what call umma.

Islamic educationinvolves encouragingchildren to develop commitmentto the

sharedway of life in the hope that they may in due course come to understandthe

underlyingprinciples of that way of life and find spiritual certaintyfor themselves.To encouragesuch commitment to the way of life of the communityof believersinto which

a child is bom cannotbe viewed on indoctrinatory in the strong sensedefined above, but is a normal part of the socialisation process,important for the stability of the

communityand the securityof the child. Islamic educationrespects individual freedom

with regard to the private developmentof spiritual qualities or emotionsbut doesnot

extendthat freedomto the public face of religion, the commitmentto the sharedway of life (though that commitment could become increasingly reflective as the pupils becomeolder). One of the purposesof Islamic educationis thus to enablethe Islamic

communityto passon the beliefs and valuesthat it sharesto the next generation;to fail to do so would haveevery appearanceof the wilful self-destructionof the community. If MacIntyre is right, it may be only through such communities that'civility and the

intellectual moral life can be sustainedthrough the new dark ageswhich are already

upon us' (198 1, p 244 f).

The discussionhas alreadybegun to move into the third Islamic responseto the liberal critique; this involvesthe claim that thereare limits to people'scontrol over their

own lives. On a liberal view, individuals shouldstrive to be free agents,able to make

196 ChapterEight choicesand plan their commitmentto religious beliefs accordingto rational principles, not necessarilyin isolation from the community to which they belong,but at leastin a way which enablesthem to balancethe influences of that community againstother considerationswhich may affect their beliefs. By equippingchildren with the meansto makerational choicesand base their beliefson appropriateevidence, education, on this view, shouldhelp children to becomeindependent of the pressuresof socialisation,of moral andreligious persuasion and of vocationalutility. White arguesthat the only real alternativeto this kind of autonomy,which gives.one the ability to resolveconflicts for oneself,is 'blind reliance on authority' (1982, p 50 f), but he rejects the latter on the

groundsthat there are no authoritieson how best to live (as distinct from thosewho

claim to be authorities:1984, p 119).

In its extreme form, the liberal notion of encouragingrational choice and the

individual constructionof belief is easy to discredit. O'Hear writes disparaginglyof

'lonely autonomousagents in an emotionallyempty stateof rational reflection' (1982,p 127 f) and Pole e1equentlyreminds us of the damage too rigid an emphasison

rationalitymight inflict on unformedminds:

to their flowering bright insecticide, potential or promised crops ... this preterlucid 'rationality, meant only for pests,proves a blight, sterile and fatal.

(1972, p 174)

It is clearly necessarytherefore to distinguishthe more extremeform of autonomy

from one which is rather less severe.What I shall call strong autonomyinsists that all

beliefsmust be held opento a rigorouscriticism basedon rationality (cf Dearden,1968,

p 48) and that each personmust work out a life plan for himself, similarly work out

how to resolvethe particularconflicts that inevitably occur in his life and ultimately be

197 ChapterEight judged by his own moral standards.In what I shall call weak autonomy,the individual needsat leastto cometo seethe point of social or moral rules and to give his consentto them. This is close to what Berger and Luckmann(1967, p 149 ff) call the processof

'internalisation',except that it is here the result of conscious reflection, in which the stageis reachedwhere the individual no longerneeds to be orderedor remindedwhat to do. There is no passive,blind or unreflective reliance on authority, and a person's thoughtsand actionsare his own, understandableonly by 'referenceto his own activity of mind! (Dearden,1972, p 453). The differencebetween strong and weak autonomy is thusa matterof degree.The former emphasisescritical investigationand the creation of a value system for oneself-,the latter, reflective understandingand an informed commitmentto a (perhapspre-packaged) value system. The former puts a heavy stress on individualism;the latter acknowledgesthe needfor respectfor the socialcontext and

social tradition in which the individual grows up (cf Dearden, 1984, pI 11; Pring,

1984,p 73). The former requirespeople to find rational justification for every belief

they hold. The latter allows people to accept things on authority so long as it is reasonableto do so and only requiresthat if they reason,they should avoid partiality,

incoherence,inconsistency and irrelevance;it doesnot require that everything should

be subjectedto rational scrutiny(cf Barrow, 1975,p 188).

I haveargued elsewhere (Halstead, 1986, ch 4) that weak autonomyis broadly in

harmony with Islamic education,but that strong autonomyis neither consistentwith Islamic principles nor philosophically sound. If eachindividual has to work out a life plan for himself, then how is he to find any criteria for his choicesexcept on the basis of further criteria he choosesuntil he finally just plumps for something (cf O'Hear,

1985, p 149)? Autonomous choice ultimately lacks weight if it ignores human

community and humanhistory. There are practicalproblems with strongautonomy as

well. It hasan elementof elitism, in that the critical rationality which it requiresis likely to be attainedmore fully and more quickly by somepeople than by others. EvenWhite (1982, 137) p concedesthat not all children will find in autonomya realistic life-aim.

198 ChapterEight

While peoplein higher socialbrackets are likely to find the possessionof autonomyan assetin their work, othersmay find it a positive hindrance.It can thusbe arguedthat to emphasisestrong autonomy in education is simply a new way of bolstering up a hierarchical structure of society and of perpetuating social inequalities. Strong autonomymay also breeda sort of arrogance,which rejectstradition just becauseit is old or unfashionable(Ward, 1983,p 54). In stressingrationality, it may underestimate the needto feel what it is to be a personamong other persons(O'Hear, 1982,p 128). In encouragingpeople to question their moral beliefs, it may merely make them confusedand'unmeshed with the societyas it is! (Barrow, 1975,p 188) with the result that the social stability of the communitycomes under pressure. Integrity is muchmore likely to be found, not when each individual tries to become his own authority on morality (as would be required by strong autonomy),but when individuals developa rational attitudeto tradition and authority (througha form of weak autonomy),with due respectfor their social roots. So White (1982, p 50) is setting up a false dichotomy

when he claims that the only real alternative to autonomy is 'blind reliance on authority'. A middle path, which aims at achievinga reflective reliance on authority

by emphasising understanding, sound judgement, breadth of knowledge and a

respectfulappreciation of authority and expertise,is a genuinealternative, and is much

more in line with Islamic education. Petersproposes something very similar when he saysthat all children shouldbe initiated into a conventionalmorality (i.e. doing what otherssay is right), but as and when they are able, they move towardsa rational moral code in which they develop'a rational attitude both to tradition and to authority' with

the result thatauthority becomesrationalised, not superseded!(1981, p 134).

The Islamic approachis broadly in line with Peters'here, except that it puts less

emphasison the individual and more on the rational consensusQjma) of the learned

('ulama) or of the communityas a whole (umma),thus tendingto avoid the dangersof

extremismor fanaticism. It is importantin Islam that the beliefs which the community

agreeson, whethermoral or religious, come to be seeninitially as objective reality by

199 ChapterEight children. Gradually children will develop (and will be encouragedby schools to develop) an awarenessof how their own personhood (their rational, emotionalt spiritual,social and moral natures)locks into this objectivereality. The aim of this kind of educationis simply (if onemay be excusedthe horticulturalimage) to producestrong roots, which will be able to support a fuller blossoming into understandingand reflectivecommitment in the courseof time. Both direct teachingand the schoolethos, on an Islamic view, will encouragestudents to seebeyond the outward manifestations (or 'pictures'to useWittgenstein's term) until they reachthe stageof understandingthe deeperspiritual truths behind the outward form of the social and moral rules that they have learned,and make them their own. But at the sametime, those who have not reached,or perhapswill never reach,this form of weak autonomy,will not be treated with disdain or left to flounder, but will have a stablebase for their own lives. This form of educationis thus moreegalitarian, more morally coherentand more attentiveto

the full personality of the child than the starker forms of liberal education that are

currently fashionablein somequarters; it is also more conduciveto social order. For manyMuslims, to encouragesuch a spirit of reflectivecommitment in youngpeople is a

first priority of education.

****

In the presentchapter I have attemptedto sketchan Islamic view of educationin line with the framework of Islamic valuespresented in ChapterSeven. Ibis view was

presentedfirst in strictly Islamic terms,but then in responseto a liberal critique of the

Islamic view, it was re-expressedin terms that are more accessibleto liberals. In

additionto outlining an Islamic view of education,therefore, it is hopedthat the present

chapter has establishedthat some sort of dialogue is possible between liberals and

Muslims, in spite of their very different world views. Chapter Nine now takes the

processof dialogueand negotiationfurther, to seeif sufficient common groundcan be found on which to constructan agreedcommon system of education.

200 CHAPTER NINE

ISLAM AND LIBERALISM: THE SEARCH FOR COMMON GROUND

The purposeof the presentchapter is to considerwhether Muslims and liberals can find sufficient common ground for a common educationsystem to be developed that is acceptableto both. Sucha position can obviously be reachedonly by a process of dialogueand by a willingness for eachside to come to understandthe other. Both liberals and Muslims are in fact committed in principle to the processof dialogue, liberals becausethey seeit as a meansof persuasionwhich they considerpreferable to coercion and more in harmony with democratic ideals, and Muslims becauseas a minority in the West they recognise(as a very minimum) that far from being able to insist on a systembased on Islamic valuesfor their own children,they areunlikely even to havetheir views acknowledgedin educationalplanning if they are not willing to enter

discussionswith non-Muslims.

It has already been shown that Islam and liberalism do in fact have some

commonground in their views of education. For example,both are dubiousabout the educationalvalue of too strong an emphasison vocational training. Both stressthe

need for some sort of integratedcurriculum, with due attention paid to breadth and

balance. Both are anxious to discourage elitism and to promote individual

development.But in other areasthe gulf remainsquite wide, andon closerexamination

even areasof apparentagreement (such as a commitment to the pursuit of truth and

justice) cannot be taken for granted,for it becameclear in Chapter Seventhat terms

suchas'truth' andjustice'do not necessarilymean the sameto Muslims as they do to liberals. The questionthat is now to be exploredis whetherany shifting of positionsis

201 ChapterNine possiblethat will bring Muslims and liberals genuinelycloser without involving a blind eye beingturned to thevery real differencesthat do exist betweenthe two perspectives.

In ChapterEight it was shown that perhapsthe biggest difference betweenthe liberal and the Islamic perspectiveson educationis that the latter is basedon a set of values that cannotin liberal eyesbe justified rationally. In ChapterFive, thesewere called communityvalues, as distinct from public values(those which can be justifiably be presentedas universally appropriate)and individual values (thosewhich belong to the domainof free personalchoice and commitment).In the first sectionof the present chapter it is intended to consider whether the existenceof community values as a distinct categorycould be concededby liberals, and if so, whetherit could be accepted

that they have an important part to play in education. In the second section, the possibility is exploredthat Muslims might cometo hold their beliefsin a mannerwhich leavesthem more opento critical debate. The implicationsfor educationalpractice are

touchedon briefly here,but will be examinedmore fully in ChapterTen.

****

Someclarification of the conceptof 'communityvalues! is neededto begin with. I am using the term'values!in the senseof beliefs aboutwhat constitutesright, goodor desirableactions or situations. In other words,values can provide the basisfor moral or otherjudgements about actionsor statesof affairs. Somesociologists (e. g. Berger

and Luckman, 1967) have beenconcerned to explore the relationship betweenvalues

and the way situations are defined, the way that values help us to understandthe

meaningof social situations,and the origin of values themselves,whether in isolated

individuals rebelling againsttheir own society,in individuals interacting in any given

social situationor in whole communitiesor societieswhich 'producedefinitions of the overall reality of human life' (Berger and Berger, 1974, p 368). Weber (1967), for

example,has arguedthat the Protestantethic producedexactly thesevalues (such as

202 ChapterNine honesty,hardwork, rational planning and so on) that were conduciveto the growth of capitalism. In the particular strand of liberal thought which has been under considerationin the last few chapters,the sociologicalclaim is acceptedthat all beliefs andvalues are

the result of conceptualschemes that have beendevised or constructedto 'capture'humanexperience,

(Hirst, 1983,p 2) but this is used as the basis for the normative argumentthat all beliefs and values shouldbe kept open to rational investigation. Hirst argues,as we saw in the previous chapter,that in all areaspeople must expecttheir beliefs and valuesto be challengedin the light of new circumstances,evidence, experience and the developmentof alternative forms of belief. Suchrational investigationmay confirm that there are certain values

(e.g. equality) that can 'justifiably be presentedas universally appropriate' (Swann Report, 1985,p 4), but in all other cases,the fundamentalfreedom of individuals to differ over the beliefs and values that they hold must be respected(cf Hirst, 1974b).

This hasimportant consequences for education.Liberals do of courserecognise that all educationtakes place in a particular social context whoseway of life involves beliefs and valueswhich 'must necessarilybe communicatedto young childrew (Hirst, 1983, p 3); but education is in no way concernedto reinforce those beliefs and values. Ratherchildren are to be encouragedto engagein critical reflection on their beliefs and

values, so that they may come to understand,for example, what it is about certain

valueswhich makescommitment to them'universally appropriate'and so that in areas

of legitimate diversity they may come to assent freely to beliefs and values 'on

appropriategrounds' (ibid). In a sense,Muslims, too, acceptthe social constructionof

their beliefs and values. The sharia (Muslim law), for example, is a rational developmentof a legal systembased on four sources: the Quran, the hadith (sayings

of the Prophet), qiyas (analogy) and ijma' (consensus). The formulation and the

203 ChapterNine interpretationof the sharl'a is the task of the Wama' (the learned),whose authority is acceptedon account of their religious insight, wisdom, intellectual expertise and knowledgeof the Quran and the ProphetMuhammad. However, althoughthe beliefs and values embodiedin the sharid cannot be justified (at least to the satisfactionof liberals) as universally appropriate, Muslims do not accept that 'education cannot operateon the assumptionof the justification of thosebeliefs' (Hirst, 1983,p 4). On the contrary,it is centralto the Islamic view of educationthat thesebeliefs and values are taken for grantedand are presentedto Muslim children as appropriatefor their acceptanceand commitment. To do otherwise would, on an Islamic view, be to promote doubt or scepticismat the expenseof faith and commitment, to stressthe importanceof individualjudgement over that of the communityand perhapseventually to underminethe way of life of the whole community. This set of beliefs and values, that liberals wish to see taught in a critically open way which respectsindividual freedom and which Muslims wish to be taken for granted in the educationof their children, is what I meanby the phrase'community values'.

Community values are precisely those values that are shared by a whole community, but not by those outside the community (though they may of course overlap to a greateror lessextent with the valuesof other communities). I have so far referred exclusively to the Islamic community, which may be understoodon the local level as the Muslims of a particular town or district or, more fundamentally, as an internationalgroup (umma)which transcendsbarriers of race, language,state, culture

or class but is united by a common religious adherence. But it is a feature of any

community - and by community I meana social group which is bound togetherby at leastone significant sharedcharacteristic, such as nationality, region, language,culture

or religion - that it hasits own distinctive values. Taking his examplefrom the Greeks, Hampshire(1982, p 150-1)argues that

204 ChapterNine

the glory of beingGreek emerged infollowing the social customs,the habits

in mattersof addressand social mannersand in conductgenerally, which are distinctively Greek; and the glory of beingAthenian, or being Spartan, rather than of beingjust Greek,resided infollowing the very different and distinctive customsof these two very discriminating cities. If the word 'glory'seemstoo highflown and seemsan exaggerationin this context,one

could say instead that the point of thinking of oneself as Greek or as Athenian resided in the thought of the distinctivenessof their way of life;

and their way of life consistednot only of social customsand habits of

addressand habits of conductmore generally,but also of distinctivemoral

codesand principles, with typical prescriptions derivedfrom them. This implies that no convergence to general agreement is required in a

justification of theseprescriptions.

Durkheim,too, appearsto maintain that membershipof any group or community involves,and is to be understoodin termsof, a distinctive setof valuesand a distinctive way of life. He argues(1933) that individuals needto be integratedinto a wider moral community if they are to avoid the dangersof anomie (loss of norms and values),and that social unity and order are possible only becausepeople share a conscience collective (a consciousnessof commonmoral values). The values,beliefs and normal patterns of behaviour that make up this collective consciousnessin any given community achievecoherence and unity by being linked to an overarching view of

reality, which Durkheim (1915) calls 'religion', though it must be rememberedthat Durkheim usesthe term'religion' in a much wider sensethan commonusage, to cover

any framework which claims to provide ultimate meaningsfor human experienceand

activities (including nationalism, Marxism and so on, as well as specific religions). Religion is thus an expression of basic social or community values, and any

accompanyingrituals serve to reinforce the unity of the community. Berger and Luckmann (1967) go further and arguethat religion plays a crucial legitimating role in

205 ChapterNine the socialconstruction of reality. By providing ultimatemeaning for humanexperience, religion servesas a 'shield againstthe terror of anomie' (Berger, 1969). It is hardly surprisingtherefore that religion and the community valueswhich it legitimatesunder its overarchingfi-amework have traditionally occupied a centralplace in the educationof the young. Durkheimsees the transmissionof communityvalues as a major functionof education:

Educationis the influenceexercised by adult generationson thosethat are not yet readyfor social life. Its object is to arouse and to developin the

child a certain numberofphysical, intellectual and moral stateswhich are

demandedof him by both the political society as a whole and the special milieufor which he is specificallydestined.

(Durkheim, 1956,p7 1)

On this view, educationprimarily servesthe community'sinterests and constrains the individual to conform to its collectivevalues and norms. Its main function is oneof socialisation. Durkheim's analysis seemsequally applicable at a time of increasing secularisation, at least in the West, when organised religions have experienced difficulties sustaining their influence on social life; for on DurkheinYs definition, society always has religion, but 'religion' may now take the form of national identity, ethnicity or whatever,rather than being groundedin a belief in God, or gods or other supernaturalentities. Somesort of overarchingframework still exists which provides the values which are transmittedthrough education. Thus sociological researchhas uncoveredthe typically American valuesof ambition, competitivenessand individual achievement that are reinforced by American education, in contrast with Soviet educationwhich lays stresson the values of discipline, loyalty and co-operationwith others for collective achievement(Berger and Berger, 1974,p 74-5). Of course,the transmissionof suchcommunity valuesis often tacit rather than overt. Children were (and perhapsstill are) encouragedto internalisethe valuesand norms of white middle-

206 ChapterNine class culture in the U. K., we are told, more through the hidden than the overt curriculum (cf Keddie, 1973). Sir Keith Joseph,on the other hand,when Secretaryof State for Education, argued that the sharedvalues which are distinctive of British societyand culture should feature openly in education(Kimberley, 1986,p 107-8).

It rnýst be emphasisedthat in the abovediscussion I am concernedwith values outsidethe minimum framework which rationality legitimatesand the public interest demands.Schools have virtually alwaysprovided educationwhich is in excessof what is required by the public interest, as was pointed out in Chapter Five, and Strike

(1982b, p 88-9) claims that with the expansionof the influence of schools at the expenseof that of the family, the church and the community, schools are under a strongerobligation thanever to promotesuch supernumerary values. As was shownin

ChapterTwo, what many Muslims in the U. K. are now seekingis not an education which is in conflict with fundamentalvalues or with the public interest;rather, they are demandingthat where community valuesare passedon to children, it shouldbe their own Islamic communityvalues that are passedon to their own chidren. They arequite happyto respectthe right of any other community to do the same(cf Khan-Cheemaet al, 1986,p 14).

So far, I have tried to makeclear what community values are. They differ from individual values, because far from depending on individual choice and self determination, they have a fixedness and a closednesswhich enables them to be perceivedas objectivereality by thosewho haveinternalised them (Bergerand Berger,

1974, pp 80-5). They differ from public values in that, although they are not untouchedby criticism or reflection (cf Hampshire, 1978, p 6), they are culturally rather thanrationally justified; they arepart of what'is involved in being a memberof a In describing group. community values, I have inevitably touched on some of the be argumentsthat can raisedin supportof giving them an important role in education;

207 ChapterNine but I will set theseout more fully in due course. Before going any further, however,I want to sketchout a liberal responseto the notion of communityvalues.

From a liberal perspective,there are three major problems with the notion of

community values. The first relatesto the liberal view of beliefs, which has already beendiscussed. On this view, all beliefs and values are essentiallychallengeable and

shouldbe held in an open-endedway that recognisesthat they may needto be revised after critical investigation. Certain values, such as justice, may emergefrom such

appraisalas universallyappropriate, in which casethey will provide a boundarywithin

which individuals can develop their own conceptsof the good (Rawls, 1982,p 160- 61). But as far as all other beliefs and valuesgo, they needto be held in a way which

recognisesthat they may be challengedin the light of new circumstancesor evidence (Hirst, 1983,p 2), whetherthey are 'community' values or not. The presentationof a

particular set of beliefs and values to children for their uncritical acceptanceand

commitmentthus runs counter to the most fundamentalprinciples of liberalism. No

specialstatus can be given, on a liberal account,to a set of values simply becausethey

are traditional, are sharedby a whole community and form the basisof the distinctive identity of individualsin that community.

The secondproblem from a liberal perspectiveis precisely that if community

values are presented in education as something fixed and requiring uncritical commitment, this robs the individual of his rightful freedom to make decisions for himself and'reduceshim from a free personto a bee tied to a hive! (Dahrendorf,1968,

p 34). It fails to respectthe personas an individual and thus buys social cohesionand

stability at too high a price to the individual. As was madeclear in ChapterFour, a

distinctivefeature of liberalismis that it doesnot provide all the answers,but'leaves the

ethical problem for the individual to wrestle with! (Friedman,1962, p 12). This raises

questionsabout the conceptof personhood,which will be discussedshortly.

208 ChapterNine

The third problem is that there can be no justification on a liberal view for presentingone particularset of communityvalues as fixed in a pluralist society. It was shown in Chapter Six that a pluralist society is necessarily characterisedby the existenceof different beliefs,values and ways of life. Yet if a pluralist societyis to be a society, there has also to be a sufficiently broad range of ideals, values and proceduresheld in common,and the groupsthat makeup the society'musthave regard for the commongood in the pursuit of their own objectives'(Crittenden, 1982, p 21). But how is a sufficiently broadframework of common valuesto be achieved?Clearly what have so far been describedas public values (those which can be justifiably presentedas universallyappropriate in a pluralist democracy)will provide the basison which a commonframework can be constructed,but they are not sufficiently broad to provide the completeframework. Similarly, as White (1987, p 16-17) points out, a frameworkconsisting of the highestcommon factor of valuesactually held in common by all the groups in a pluralist society, will be too thin to serve any significant function. Yet the Swann Rel2ort(DES, 1985, pp 5-7) arguesconvincingly that it is impossiblefor eachcommunity to retain its own valuesuntouched by other groups;and the attemptby any one groupin society(whether or not it forms the majority) to impose its valueson other groups,except where this is justifiable in termsof the public interest, would be seenas contravening the spirit of liberalism. The liberal answer,according to

Haydon (1986,1987),White (1987) and others,lies in negotiation. What is envisaged is that groupswill come together,aware of their different value orientationsbut aware also of the need for a common framework in areasof common life (especiallylegal, political andeconomic life) andwilling thereforeto enterinto discussionswith a view to reaching agreementon certain matters of values. This approachis justified on the grounds that what an ethical theory needs to be, in order to offer a resolution of problems,is not true, but agreed (Haydon, 1986,p 98), and that there is value in the processof democraticnegotiation per se (White, 1987,pp 20-23).

209 ChapterNine

To sum up, in so far as liberals are prepared to concede the importance of communityvalues at all, they are not conceptualisedin the sameway at all as they are on an Islamic view. To liberals, they consistof a negotiatedframework of commonly acceptedvalues, and even if broadagreement is reachedover them within society,they are still to be consideredchallengeable and must be transmittedto childrenin a critically openmanner and in a way which respectsthe ultimate freedomof individuals to make choicesfor themselves.

Before we proceedwith a responseto the liberal critique, one specific Islamic reaction must be noted. It would not be possiblein principle for an Islamic group to enter into the sort of negotiationof a framework of commonvalues that Haydon talks of. What mattersfor Muslims more than that an ethical frameworkis agreedis that it is true, and it is preciselybecause the Islamic ethicsare consideredto be basedon divine revelationthat they arenot opento open-endednegotiation. If Muslims areto enterinto dialogue with non-Muslimsover values (which is what the presentchapter is about), the aim of the engagementon an Islamic view must be to shareideas, to achievegreater mutual understanding,to see if more common ground can be discovered than was realised before, which may justify greater co-operation. The aim cannot be to compromise fundamental beliefs and values in any way in the interests of wider agreementand co-operation with non-Muslims.

We can now move on to a more detailedresponse to the liberal objectionsto the notion of communityvalues, and in so doing considerthe main argumentsin supportof giving them a significantplace in education. The argumentsthat follow are not drawn directly from Muslim writers, but it is intendedthat they shouldbe in harmonywith the Islamic principlesset out in ChapterSeven.

210 ChapterNine

Problemsarise immediately if the idea of negotiatinga framework of commonly acceptedvalues implies that the final agreedframework will containsome values drawn from one community,some from another. As Hampshire(1978, p 12) points out,

the virtues typical of several different ways of life cannot be freely combined.

It may be that a way of life can only be understoodas a whole (cf Toulmin, 1950,p 153) and that its coherencedepends on a well-establishedset of inter-relatedvalues which cannotbe discussedseparately. It is further arguedby someWittgensteinians that any given way of life can only be understood from the inside, and that no justification for commitmentto a way of life is possible that is developedoutside the way of life itself. Wittgensteinhimself writes,

What has to be accepted,the given, is - so one could say -form of life. (1958, p 226)

Although it is uncertain exactly what Wittgenstein meansby the term 'form of life',

Phillips (1956, p 27; 1970, p 14), Malcolm (1984, p 72) and others have based argumentson the assumptionthat religion is a form of life and as such is 'given' or axiomatic so that religious beliefs do not needto be justified and indeedcannot be (see below). Sherry (1977, p 23), on the other hand, argues that specific religions or specific religious practicesmay come closer to what is meantby 'form of life'. Trigg

(1973,p 64) takesthe phraseto refer more generallyto 'a community of thosesharing the sameconcepts. But howeverwe understandthe phrase,the Wittgensteiniannotion of 'forms of life' presentsa twofold challengeto liberalism as defined in ChapterFour.

First, it implies that the rules which governthe behaviourof any given community can only be understoodthrough the eyes of membersof that community. If one fails to acceptthis, one may simply be imposing'a set of alien categorieson a culture one has

211 ChapterNine failed to understand'(Lear, 1984,p 146); but if one does get inside the culture of a community,its beliefs and practicesmay be seento make sense. Secondly,it implies that when liberal demandsfor thejustification of beliefs havefollowed througha chain of explanationsthey may be found to be groundedin a particularrecognisable 'form of life!. What emergesfrom this line of reasoning,as Lear (ibid.) points out, is

the autonomyof a culture'sbeliefs and practices. From outsidethe culture there is no legitimate vantagepoint from which to criticise them. From insidethe culture the beliefsand practices will 'makesense.

Bergerand Berger (1974, p 386) reacha similar conclusionvia the quite different, sociologicalroute which has alreadybeen considered, when they write that society is 'constitutedby the definitionsof reality that prevail in ie. According to Phillips (1967), the society and the definitions of reality cannot be understoodindependently of each other, and he criticisesthose philosophers who fail to considerthe contextsof religious beliefs, who try to discuss,for example,the questionof the existenceof God without taking into accountthe form of life in which belief in God is a central part (Phillips,

1967,p 4,63; cf Sherry, 1977,p 118). If setsof beliefs and values are as intricately tied to specific communities as is being suggestedhere, this has two consequences. First, it makesthe liberal notion of negotiatinga frameworkof sharedvalues essentially problematic,since this would involve wrenchingbeliefs and values from their context andthus making them meaningless.Secondly, it castsdoubt on the liberal value of free individual choice; for if the community's beliefs and values are to be considered autonomous,the individual can haveno rational groundsoutside the community'sown framework for acceptingor rejecting them. Just as it was shown in ChapterFive that the principle of the autonomyof the individual is in constantconflict with the principle of the autonomy of the family (cf Fishkin, 1983), so too it sits uneasily with the principle of the autonomy of the community. Communitarians like MacIntyre,

Hauerwasand Sandel consider the latter of prior importance. They argue that our

212 ChapterNine identity is not independentof our attachmentsand we are thereforenecessarily involved in the purposesand ends which characterisethe communitieswe inhabit. Sandelpoints out that'since othersmade me, and in various ways continueto make me, the personI anY(1982, p 161)9

I am situatedfrom the start, embeddedin a history which locatesme among

others, and implicates my good in the good of the communities whose storiesI share.

(1984,p 9; cf MacIntyre, 1981,p 205)

On this view, a major purposeof educationmust be to provide a fairly stableset of guiding valuesfor the child, i. e. thoseof the community in which the child grows up; Toulmin makeswhat appearsto be an obviouspoint that the child who is brought up accordingto a consistentset of moral principlesis the one who is most likely to 'get the idea' of ethics (1950, p 169). Durkheim (1956) deniesthat this sort of education, even thoughit involves constrainingchildren to a socially determinedset of values,is tyrannous. He argues that it is justified becausethe children themselvesare the beneficiaries(cf Gutmann, 1982,p 270). Equally, however, a purposeof education must be to preserve,maintain and transmit community values,for theseare where the individual's interests primarily lie, rather than in the supposedliberation from the presentand the particular (Bailey, 1984). Wolff (1968, p 145) puts the point more I forecefully:

It seems,ifDurkheim is correct, that the very liberty and individuality which

Mill celebrates are deadly threats to the integrity and health of the

personality. Sofar from being superfluousconstraints which thwart the

free developmentof the self, social normsprotect usfiom the dangers of anomie; and that invasive intimacy of each with each which Mill felt as

213 ChapterNine

suffocating is actually our principal protection against the soul-destroying

evil of isolation.

Liberalism hasoften beenattacked of late for failing, thoughits strongemphasis on individual freedomand choice,to take sufficient accountof an individuaXsties and attachments(Williams, 1981; Sen and Williams, 1982, p 5; O'Hear, 1982, p 127 f; 1985, p 149). Older proponentsof liberal education have argued that a group or community 'has no consciousnessor life apart from that of the individuals who composeif (Peters,1966, p 216) and that the trouble with a group discussingwhat ought to be done by the group as a whole is that it may ignore 'the stake of any individual in the future' and 'the role of the individual in determininghis own destiny'

(ibid, p 215). But morerecently we find someliberal educationalistswilling to distance themselvesfrom what they call'abstract individualism' (Haydon, 1986,p 97-8; 1987, p 27). Haydon, indeed, emphasisesthe need to view persons not as free-floating individuals but as firmly rooted in the practices and traditions of their cultural inheritance, which he considersto provide 'at least the initial basis of their values'

(ibid). The reasonsfor this liberal shift, of course,are not hard to see. Too severea form of individualism would sit rather uncomfortably with the idea of negotiating a frameworkof commonly acceptedvalues which Haydonexpounds, for in practicesuch negotiation would have to be carried out by representatives of specific groups or communities,rather thanby everyindividual memberof thosecommunities. The point of negotiatedvalues would be lost if they were not accordedsome degree of fixedness but wereconstantly challenged in a fundamentalway by individuals.

In view of the foregoing discussion,there is clearly someuncertainty about the

secondand third liberal challengesto the notion of community values (the need for

individuals to be free to determinetheir own destiny, and the need for a negotiated

framework of values in a pluralist society), and some shifting of ground may be possible. The first liberal challenge,however, is harderto undermine. This involves

214 ChapterNine the claim that sinceall beliefs are challengeable,they shouldbe presentedin an open way to children,and that educationshould be concernedwith'achieving commitmentto justified beliefs on appropriategrounds' (Hirst, 1983,p 3). Tbe biggestproblem here is how to find out what constitutes 'appropriate grounds'. For the liberal, such groundsmust be basedon rationality, howeverthat is to be conceived. But community values,as expounded in this chapterare not necessarilyvalues which can be rationallly definedor justified, at leastto the satisfactionof everyone.The domainof morality will serveto illustrate the point. Certainly somemoral principles, suchas the dispositionto treat all men and women alike in some respects,in recognition of their common humanity, are rationally defensibleand not contingentupon any type of social order, and such a principle prescribes a fairly specific, settled set of norms for human behaviour. I have called theseprinciples 'public values. But there are other values suchas love and friendship(cf Hampshire,1982, p 148), altruism (paceNagel, 1970), loyalty (cf Wolff, 1968,pp 51 ff), hope and patience(cf Hauerwas,1981, p 5), charity

(cf MacIntyre, 1981,p 162 f) and ultra-obligationsgenerally (cf Grice, 1967,pp 155 ff), that are held in as high esteemas justice in many contests,and yet do not share either the same rational justification or the same fixedness as far as behaviour is concerned.Rational considerations may set the parametersfor behaviourbased on the latter type of value: the behaviourshould not causeavoidable unhappiness or offend the principle of fairness. But, as Hampshire(1982, p 154)points out,

Thesebare requirementsplainly underdeterminethe full, complexmorality

of thefamily and of sexual relationships and offiriendship in any man's actual way of life. '

Community values are basedon the specific habits and conventionsassociated, probably over a long period of time, with one particular way of life and the way of life gains'coherencefrom the harmoniousinterlocking of its various elements. Hampshire

215 ChapterNine arguesthat thereis a rationaljustification for respectingsome set of not unreasonable,if ultimatelyarbitrary, moral claimsof a conventionalkind,

becausesome moral prescriptions are necessaryin theareas of sexualityand family relationshipsandfiiendship and social customsand attia&s to death; and that menare reasonablyinclined to respectthose prescriptions which havein fact survivedand which havea history of respect. (ibid, p 155)

But even Hampshireconcedes the liberal claim that such values must be rationally defensibleif challengedand arguesthat there is no virtue in clinging to suchvalues if thereare compelling grounds of a rationalkind for rejectingthem (for example,because they areunfair).

What is the casewith morality applies even more so to the domain of religion. For here there is no set of principles correspondingto justice which can be justifiably presentedas universally appropriate. On the contrary, all religious beliefs and values seemto fall into the categoryof communityvalues whose truth can neverbe established objectivelybut whosecoherence depends on the specificway of life of which they area part. In an article entitled of Belief, Malcolm (1977, p, 154-5) criticises the assumptionthat becausereligious belief has no rational justification it cannotbe consideredintellectually respectable.He claims that religion and religious belief are indeed ultimately groundless, and that although of course within the religious frameworkthere is criticism, explanationand justification, no similar rational justification can or needbe appliedto the religious frameworkitself (ibid, p 152). On a communitarianpoint of view, the fact that the way of life exists,is rooted in history, is internallycoherent, provides values which are traditionallyrespected by the community, andis consistentwith fundamentalmoral principlesor public values,provides sufficient grounds for giving it a central place in education. On the one hand, if any of a

216 ChapterNine community'svalues are worth preserving,education may be the only way to do that; on the other, if children are to grow up with a senseof what it is to be a person among otherpersons they needthe stability and identity which socialisationinto a fixed setof sharedbeliefs and valuesis most likely to provide. Contemporaryliberalism may be preparedto go a certainway down this path but only on condition that suchbeliefs and valuesare passedon to children in a critically open way, in recognitionof the fact that no religious beliefs can be shownobjectively to be true and that challengeand change must be acceptedin principle if compelling reasonsfor such changecan be justified rationally.

We can now return to the dialogue betweenliberalism and Islam directly. For proponentsof the Islamic view of education,the fact that fundamentalIslamic values are sharedand have been sharedover a long period of time by the whole Islamic communityprovides sufficient groundsfor usingeducation to encouragethe childrenof the community to develop commitment to thosevalues. The fact that the values are consideredto be baseddirectly or indirectly on divine revelation objectifies them further, and makesthe transn-dssionof them to the next generationa sacredduty. On a liberal view, however, there is nothing special about Islamic community values which gives them the right to immunity from criticism; on the contrary,they must,like thoseof all religions, be subjectto searchingexamination (Trigg, 1973,p 59-60). And if religious claims are 'essentiallycontestable' (O'Hear, 1982,p 14), there can be no right on the part of any community to prejudgethe truth of their own claims on behalf of their children. Many liberals acceptthat certainmoral rules haveto be transmittedto children before they understandthe justification for them or can evaluate them for themselves(Peters, 1969, p 106; O'Hear, 1982,p 122 ff-, J and P White, 1986,p 156);

someargue that certainreligious valuesand beliefsmay be transmittedin the sameway

(McLaughlin, 1984,1985). But such educationwould be quite unacceptablefrom a liberal point of view if children were not encouragedsooner or later to recognise

217 ChapterNine contestablebeliefs as contestable or allowedto challengethe culturein which they were broughtup andform their own ideals.

It is time to look againat the Islamic position to seeif any room can be found for the notion of critical openness,for it appearsthat unlesssome accommodation can be madeto this fundamentalliberal principle, an impassewill have beenreached in the dialoguebetween liberalism and Islam with which the presentchapter is concerned.

****

Critical openness involves ensuring that one's fundamental beliefs and commitmentsare open to public,rational, critical testand acknowledging that they areat least in principle revisableafter appropriateinvestigation. It thereforealso entailsa willingness to adopt an attitude of serious reflection towards new ideas and new possibilities. In other words, critical opennessis simply an extension into other domainsof the critical-speculativeview of the advancementof scientific knowledge; Popperand othershave arguedthat scientific knowledgedevelops by meansof the critical examination of existing knowledge to discover its weaknesses,and the production of new theories,by a processof imaginativespeculation, which are then subjectthemselves to furthercritical appraisal.At first blush,it seemsthat therecan be no point of contactbetween the critical-rationalistattitude and the religous(cf O'Hear, 1984, p 247; Hirst, 1985, p 197 f); the former involves casting doubt on existing knowledgeand using humanfaculties to weedout weaknessesand reconstructmore rationallyjustiable beliefs, while the latter is concernedwith the preservationof sacred and eternaltruth. There is a significant numberof Christians,however, who wish to arguenot merely that religion is compatiblewith critical openness,but that the inner natureof the Christianreligion requiresa critically openresponse (Smart, 1968). Hull goesso far as to arguethat'it is God!s wise decreethat his creaturesshould be critically open'(1984, p 216) and that God himself 'hasthe kind of critical opennessappropriate

218 ChapterNine to a perfectbeing' (ibid, p 218). While this idea perhapsrepresents only one strandof Christian theology, its educationalconcomitants have taken a firm root in religious educationin the U.K. in the last twenty years. Smart (1966,1968,1969) arguesthat Christianeducation cannot ignore philosophical problems which areraised by Christian doctrine;that it necessarilyoverlaps with areasof scientific andhistorical enquiry (e. g. the story of creationand the deathof Jesus);and that it cannotignore the truth claimsof othervarieties of religiousexperience. For thesereasons, Christianity cannot be taught as 'a self-enclosed,self-authenticating system of truth! (Hull, 1984,p 95), but should be taughtin a critically open,descriptive, comparative way which doesnot prejudicethe final outcomeas far as the beliefsthat childrenmay cometo hold areconcerned. Smart seesthis approachto religious educationas (happily) in line with both his liberal conceptof educationand his understandingof the natureof society. If educationis to encouragechildren to become personally and morally autonomous, it requires openness,and this is seenas the essentialcharacteristic of the RE teacher,rather than a deep personal faith (1966, p 15). Education is the public activity of the state (in contrastto nurture,which is the domesticactivity of the church), and sincecountries like the U.K. are to all intentsand purposessecular in their institutionsand pluralist in their cultural and religious beliefs, the open,neutral religious educationwhich Smart claims is requiredby the logic of religion, is also reinforced by sociologicalfactors. Thus he concludes,

The test of one who is teaching reasonably in a society such as ours is

openness. (Smart, 1968,p 98)

More recently,Hughes (1985, pp 16 ff) has arguedthat the Churchmust seekto integratereligious belief with everydayexperience. If it fails to do so, it can only survive by insisting on the unquestioningacceptance of authority and by denouncing criticism andproscribing contraryteaching; in the long run, he claims,such attempts to

219 ChapterNine stifle free discussionwill lead to a decline of religion. If, on the other hand, the Church welcomes discussionand the free exchangeof ideas, it must

expect to be questionedand challenged by its membersand it must be preparedto changeits own waysof thinking and acting, submittingitse4f to the light of truth. (ibid, p 21)

What I now want to explore in this section of the present chapter is whether there is any possibility in principle that the notion of critical opennessand the free exchange of ideasmay be incorporatedinto an Islamic view of education.

SomeWestern sociologists have arguedthat there is an historical inevitability about the process of secularisationwhich is bound sooner or later to affect all institutions,including the teachingof religion. Weber,who seessecularisation as the socialproduct of Protestantismand capitalism (1967), claims that it is characterisedby a pluralism of conflicting values and the institutional relegation of religion to purely private choices (1965). Berger (1969), following Weber, distinguishes between objective secularisation (the institutional isolation of religion) and subjective secularisation(the loss of religiouscredibility at the level of humanexperience) and sees both at work in the West. But Bergerpays little attentionto Islam and the question remainswhether secularisation is a globalprocess or merelya Westernphenomenon (cf Turner, 1974,p 158). Lerner (1964) arguesthat the processof modernisationin the West has global significance becauseit provides the pattern for all modernising

societies;and accordingto this theory, modernisation,which involves urbanisation, literacy,media participation and electoral participation and, more generally,the freeing of individualsfrom the establishedcustoms and values of traditional society,is clearly relatedto secularisation(cf Turner, 1974,p 161). However,any global theory about the inevitability of secularisationwill haveto take into accountthe reality of religious

220 ChapterNine revival in a variety of different contexts, not least the well charted Islamic resurgence, and the common Western assumption that sooner or later Islam would follow the pattern of Christianity and become increasingly secularised may be held with less confidence now than it was ten or twenty years ago (cf Voll, 1982, p 275 f).

Certainly there are Westernscholars and orientalistswho have beenanxious to find evidence of a liberal spirit in Islam. Some have looked backwards to the Mu'tazilites, who have (rather misleadingly) been called the 'liberal theologiansof Islarn' by Horten (1912), and who have more recently been used (again rather misleadingly)to establishthat not all religious thinkerseven in Islam'would insist that the primary aim of religious educationwas to support religious practice' (O'Hear, 1982,p 13). Othershave spoken with approvalof attempts,particularly on the Indian sub-continentby peoplelike Sir SayyidAhmad Khan andAmeer Ali andparticularly in the period before 1945,to re-expressIslam in termswhich are more in keepingwith Westernliberal values (Smith, 1946; Gibb, 1947; 1969, ch 10; Cragg, 1965). Yet othershave argued that therenow exists'a large,mainly silent, body of liberal opinion in Islad (Watt, 1988,p 143;Hourani, 1985,p 276), thoughit must be pointedout that

Watt is using the term'liberal' in a very broadsense, to refer to any Muslims who hold that the traditionalworld view needsto be correctedin somerespects. As evidencefor an increasingliberal-minded spirit in Islam,he refersto a new willingnessto participate in dialoguewith Christians(Watt, 1979,p 238 f; 1988,p 120f) and to the work of two scholarswho combinetheir Islamic faith with an awarenessof contemporarythought: Fazlur Rahmanand MohammedArkoun. Rahmanhas proposeda new approachto Qur'anicexegesis: first, considerationmust be given to the historial situationin which a specific rule was formulated;then the generalmoral principles underlying the rule mustbe discovered4and finally thesegeneral principles may be usedfor guidanceabout present-dayproblems (1982, p5 ff). Arkoun (1984; 1986,p 159) commentson the urgencyof the needto openup what Muslims havetraditionally treatedas impensable or impenseto critical analytical thinking; he appearsto be suggestingthat Quranic

221 ChapterNine assertionsshould be treated as historical facts to which the methodsof historical criticism may properly be applied (cf Watt, 1988,p 2). Indeed,Gibb (1947,p 124 f), Wati (1988, p 86f) and others have arguedthat the loss of the earlier flexibility in Islamic thoughtabout the fourth Islamic centuryis seenparticularly in its disregardof historicalthinking, and that oneof the greatestneeds of Muslims todayis the acceptance of historico-criticalmethods, even if this entailsthe abandonmentof 'someinessential and secondarypoints of traditional belief (Watt, 1988,p 88). Unless Muslims are willing to takeon boardat leastsome forms of Westernhistorical and scientific method, Watt fearsthat they may becometotally isolatedfrom the modemworld, incapable'of entering the universeof discourseof Westem scholarsand thinkers' (1979, p 238). Hurst goesfurther and argues that it is impossibleto pursuemodem scientific education without adoptingthe critical-speculativemethod; yet once a mind acquiresthe critical habit, it will not restrict the processof questioningto one particular dimensionof knowledge (the scientific), even if ordered to do so by religious leaders(cf Hirst, 1985). He thereforesees it asinevitable that the processof Islamicisingthe curriculum discussedin ChapterEight will fail:

Either it will produce a curriculum that is moribund, in which case it will

produce no-one capable of outstanding research, or it will succeed despite

itsey in producing people who are genuinely capable of critical-speculative

thinking. In which case, they will waste no time in throwing it out and replacing it with a better one.

(Hurst, 1985,p 199 f)

To what extent all this is merely wishful thinking on the part of someWestern liberals is not immediatelyobvious or easyto establish. Certainly the situationin the Muslim world is much more complicated than is suggestedby Watt's distinction between traditionalists and liberals (Watt, 1988, p2 f) or by Sardar'sopposing paradigmsof taqlid (uncriticalfaith; blind, unquestioningobedience) and ijdhad (effort,

222 ChapterNine struggle, independent judgement). First, the West has clearly made significant intrusions into the Muslim world, though these have taken a variety of forms. As was mentioned in ChapterEight, the left-overs of Western imperialism are still very much in evidence, both in institutions such as education and in ideas, attitudes and values such as nationalism (cf Nuseibeh, 1956; Zeine, 1973). Some prominent figures in the

Muslim world, such as Ataturk, have been happy to throw in their lot entirely with

Western culture; the Egyptian writer Taha Husain, for example, once wrote:

Let us adopt Western civilisation in its totality and all its aspects, the good

with thebad and thebitter with the sweet. (quotedin Badawi, 1978,p 14)

Others(often called modernists)have sought a synthesisof Islamic and Western ideas,and even where Western values are rejected there often remainsa dependenceon the West for technology;in any case modern communicationsensure a continuing accessto Westernideas. Secondly,Islamic resurgenceis a well-documentedreality (Voll, 1982;Watt 1988;Ayoob, 1981),though the term is usedin a numberof different waysincluding the Islamisationof the socialand legal frameworkof Muslim countries, political oppositionto the Westand the strengtheningof the traditionalconception of the Islamic faith. Thirdly, genuinedebates are going on within the Muslim community,for exampleabout the statusof women,the chargingof intereston loans,the collectionof zakat(alms), the issueof family planningand the punishmentof crime (Rahman,1982, p 136;Watt, 1988,p 108ff). Fourthly,it is clear that not all Muslims adherestrictly to all the requirementsof the faith, suchas praying five times a day. It is impossibleto generaliseabout the reasonsbehind this stateof affairs,however, while somemay have seriousintellectual doubts about the Islamic tenetsof faith (e.g. Fyzee,1963), others may be resentfulof the intoleranceand arroganceof certainself-styled Islamic leaders (Sardar 1979, pp 58,68), while others simply find their faith squeezedinto the backgroundby the pressuresof modemlife andperhaps openly acknowledgethat they

223 ChapterNine are backsliders.Finally, it is clear that a willingnessto criticise the passiveacceptance of authority, and the closed-mindedintolerance of sometraditional scholarsdoes not makea Muslim a modernist.Sardar, for example,describes modernism as

evenmore destructive than the narrow,rigid confinementof traditionalism. (1979,p 59)

and speaks highly critically of Fazlur Rahman as a neo-orientalist in the mould of

Schacht, Gibb and WC Smith (ibid, p 73). In all this confusion, one fact remains indisputable, that

the thinkingof theftindamentalIslamic intellectualsand of the great masses of ordinary Muslims is still dominatedby the standard traditional Islamic

world view and the correspondingseýf-image offslam. (Watt, 1988,p 1)

I find it impossible,however, to assessthe truth of Watt's claim that there is a large, mainly silent,body of liberal opinion in Islam (ibid, p 143);it seemsto me that perhaps he overstatesthis.

The otherclaims made by Westernscholars seeking to establishthe existenceof a liberal spirit in Islam aremore opento appraisal,however, and I intend now to look at eachin turn. To recapitulatebriefly, the claims were, first, that the Mu'tazilites held parallel views to liberals; secondly,that evidenceof a new opennesscan be found in a recentwillingness to enterinto dialoguewith Christians;thirdly, that Muslims suchas FazlurRahman have proved willing to apply Westerncritical techniquesto Islam; and fourthly, that it is inevitablethat onceMuslims haveaccepted the principle of critical- speculativethinking in science,they will start to apply the sametechniques to their religiousbeliefs.

224 ChapterNine

First, the Mu'tazilites. They were the first school of systematic theology in Islam, coming into existence in Iraq about a hundred years after the death of the Prophet

Muhammad and continuing to be influential for about three centuries. Certainly they were not free thinkers or rationalists in any modem Western sense,as Nyberg's article on them in the Encyglopaediaof Islam makes clear. But in seeking to face up honestly to some of the problems of religious belief, they did develop somerationalist tendencies expecially in the domain of ethics. Their method was to start from a few broad principles statedor implied in the Quean, such as.the unity and justice of God, and then to deduce their logical consequences. Thus they applied human, rational ideas about justice to Quranic statementsabout God!s justice, and deduced that God would deal out rewards and punishments on the day of judgement in accordance with this intelligible justice. They further deducedthat evil doers would be punished only for sins they had the power to avoid, which in turn implies that people had the power to choose their own conduct; but such human freedom is not compatible with divine predestination of human affairs and therefore they argued that God has delegated to human beings the power to decide and even to 'create' their own actions. The

Mu'tazilite commitment to rationality can also be seen in their belief that the value of many things can be recognised by the intellect independently of revelation (e.g. the intuition that 'irreligion (kufr) is evil') and that other true judgements can be inferred from these primary ones through rational study (Hourani, 1985, pp 69,126). But they also stressedthat revelation was an equally important source of knowledge, and never in disagreement with reason; revelation tells us truths that reason unaided could not have discovered, although

reasoncan recogniseand acceptthem as rational whenonce they have been

revealed- e.g. thevalue ofprayer in buildingcharacter. (ibid, p 18)

225 ChapterNine

Whetheror not theseare to be viewed as liberar tendenciesin any broadsense, I can find no evidencefor O'Hear'sclaim that

members of Mutazilite tradition argued, like St Thomas Aquinas in Catholicism,that menhad a religious duty to usetheir reasonto assessthe claimsof revelation. (1982,p 13)

On the contrary,Mu'tazilites to my knowledgenever questioned fundamental Islamic doctrinessuch as the unity of God and his creation,or consideredthem challengeable, but merely usedtheir reasonto understandand clarify thesebasic beliefs as bestthey could. They can hardly thereforebe said to have beencritically open in any way that approximatesto thecontemporary liberal sense;it is hardeven to judge what importance they placedon reason,for althoughWesterners are understandablyinterested in this dimensionof their thought, Watt (1948, p 69) points out that reason is not in fact mentionedvery muchin their writings.

Secondly, the willingness of Muslims in recent years to enter into and even initiate dialogue with Christians (and to a less extent with other religions) is well documented.

Muslim-Christian conferences have been held in many places including Libya under

Colonel Gadhafi and Iran under Ayatollah Khomeini (Watt, 19779, p 238; 1988, p 120 f), and the Islamic Academy has sponsored seminars with Christians in the U. K. and elsewhere and is currently working with Christian scholars on a number of joint curriculum projects (Ashraf, 1988b). Again, however, this is not really the'liberalising tendency' that Watt claims it to be (1979, p 239); still less is it a sign of critical openness. Such dialogue is justified in Muslim eyes by the special place accorded to

Christianity in the Quran (e.g. Sura 5 verse 82, Sura 57 verse 27) and the belief that all religions have the sameorigin and many sharedconcepts (Ashraf, 1988c, p 3). 'Mere

226 ChapterNine appearsto be a growing feeling that ultimately Christianity and Islam are on the same side in the spiritual battle against secularisation.

Thirdly, we must consider the claim that certain Muslim thinkers such as Fazlur

Rahman have been willing to apply Western critical techniques to Islam. It is true, as

already mentioned, that Rahman has argued the need to understand the spirit of the

Qur'an as a whole before trying to interpret particular passages. A slavish literalism in

approachingthe Quran might lead to the argument that since it is a pillar of Islam to pay in zakat (alms), some people must remain poor in order for the rich to earn merit the

right of God; but Rahman (1982,p 19) pours scom on such an argument as totally

contrary to the spirit of Islam. Elsewhere, (ibid, p 38), Rahman speaks somewhat However, nebulously of the minds creativity in reaching out to the unknown Qjtihad).

he is totally opposed to the secularisation of learning (ibid, p 133 f), and the main be purpose of his book is to show how important, though difficult, the task will of is systematically reconstructing knowledge and education along Islamic lines. 1jdhad a

difficult Arabic word to translate;it combines the notion of exertion, effort and diligence Hull's with that of independentjudgement, and thus seemsto have affinities with sense

of'thinking for yourself, which is related to both autonomy and cAtical openness. But

the opening of the gate of ijt1had, which Rahman (ibid, p7 f), Sardar (1979, pp 56 f,

152 ff) and others recommend, neither leaves it up to the individual to work out his

own faith nor involves the questioning of the fundamentals of the faith. It is simply a

way of tackling the stagnation resulting from the old emphasis of some Islamic traditionalists on blind, unquestioning obedience (El Tom, 1981, p 41), and restoring

IslanYs more dynamic qualities. In any case, the iitihad being proposed is generally

conceived of as an institutional activity (Sardar, 1979, p 156) or an activity of the entire

umma (community) (Saqib, 1981, p 49).

The case being argued here by Rahman and others clearly falls short of Hirst! s

strong senseof critical openness,as set out earlier in the presentchapter. But perhapsa

227 ChapterNine weaker form of critical opennesscan be identified. This may require the believer to adopt a critical, enquiring attitude in which he thinks for himself, acceptsresponsibility for his own beliefs, rejects authoritarianism, adopts an attitude of appraisal towards his beliefs, but does not actually question their foundation (cf Barrow, 1975, p 188 ff).

This weak senseof critical openness seems to be what Hull (1984, p 209-10) has in mind when he suggests that in the case of Islam, critical openness may mean 'the process of drawing contemporary inferences from a received theological structure'. If that is what critical opennessmeans then Muslims can have no real argument with it, except perhapsto view it as more of a community process than an individual one, for it leaves the foundational beliefs and values of Islam (as set out in Chapter Seven) unchallengedand untouched. And these are the beliefs that unite all the membersof the

Muslim community; as Rahmanwrites,

it is also something of an irony to pit the so-called Muslim fundamentalists Muslim Muslim against the modernists, since ... the modernists say exactly the same thing as the so-called Muslim fundamentalists say: that Muslims

must go back to the original and definitive sources of Islam and perform

ijdhad on that basis.

(1982, p 142)

As we saw in Chapter Seven, even the most conservative Muslims recognise the need to'translate the truths of Islam into a contemporary language' (Nasr, 1981, p 32).

Finally, Hurst!s claimsthat sooneror later Muslims will get caughtup in critical- speculativethinIdng whether they wish it or not mustbe examined.He writes,

if some propositions about the world are potentially erroneous, and if

scientific knowledge proceeds by cumulatively uncovering the error and

correcting it, why (if there is no contradiction between revelation and

228 ChapterNine

research)are somepropositions in a reservedcategory, whose truth is unquestionable?If we createan educationalsystem (as wepresumably wish

to) which successfullytransmits the critical-speculativemethod to at least I some of its graduates, they will be bound to ask why there are some propositions(other than tautologies,which are not about the world) which are necessarilytrue, whenall the rest arefalsiftlablein principle. To reply 'becauseGod utteredthem' is not calculatedto satisfy a mind imbuedwith thecritical-speculative ethos. (1985,p 199)

Hurst seemsto imply that as soonas Muslims acquirethe questioninghabit, the whole structureof Islamic authoritywill crumbleand there will be nothingleft to supportsuch activities as the Islamisationof the curriculum. There are various problemswith this thesis. To start with, it presupposesthat all areas of knowledge and belief are sufficiently homogeneousthat if it can establishthat critical opennessand the critical- speculativemethod are appropriate for one, the scientific,they will be found equallyso

for all other types,including the religious. Callan (1985) adoptsa similar approachin arguingagainst the parental right to give one'schildren a religiousupbringing; he draws his main examplesfrom the inculcation of political beliefs in children and then unapologeticallytransfers these arguments to religious beliefs. However,it is possible to argue that religious beliefs differ from other forms of belief in their nature,their origin, their justification and their object and that thereis thereforeno evidenceas yet that religious beliefs should, or even can, be subjectedto the samekind of critical investigationthat we considerappropriate for, say,scientific or political beliefs.

Let us look at thesedifferences between religious belief andother forms of belief in more detail. Kenny (1983, p2 f) proposesthat there are three sensesof belief in God. The first is simply that God exists. The secondis acceptingthat somethingis true on the basisthat it hasbeen revealed by God; it is not so much believing in God,

229 ChapterNine saysKenny, as believing God. The third is trust in God and willingness to commit oneself to him. The first type of belief has a similar form to a scientific belief and appearsto be opento rationalinvestigation. The third is a matterof personalchoice and may well involve someform of mystic experience. The second,though it takesfor grantedthe truth of the first, doesnot itself have the form of a verifiable proposition; andthis is the senseof religiousbelief that occursmost commonlyin Islam. It consists of 'intellectualassent to doctrinesas revealed by God' (Kenny, 1983,p 3). Onecannot reach a justifiable belief in God in this sensethrough the processof open critical reflection. To the Muslim, belief in God is a gift which comes through divine revelation,whether in the form of the Quran or in the form of an inner illumination which sweepsaway doubt. Criteria of rationality, at least if starkly construed,cannot be all-pervasivein a discussionof appropriategrounds for assentto such religious beliefs. If, as is claimed,the beliefs are foundedon divine revelation rather than on humanlyconstructed conceptual schemes, then a reflective investigationof them can only concernitself with the structureof beliefsthat hasbeen built upon this foundation of divine illumination, not with the divine illumination itself. The processmight reasonablyinvolve examiningthe socially constructedsystem of beliefs for internal coherenceby measuringit againstthe fundamentalclaims madeby the religion, but even this kind of 'measuring'is likely to be more productiveif it is basedon spiritual insight and wisdom rather than on the narrow rationality of the critical- speculative approach.Indeed such a processmay not be called critical, rationalinvestigation at all unless rationality is conceived in very broad terms as taking into account the developmentof the whole humanpersonality: intuition, the conscience,the feelings, the will, the dispositionsand the moral, social and spiritual dimensionsof personality aswell as the narrowlyrational.

When Muslims maintain that their fundamentalreligious beliefs are baseddirectly on divine revelation, then that is the end of the debate about their justification as far as they are concerned. They are simply God-given. The Q&an says,

230 ChapterNine

When God and his messengerhave decreed a matter, it is not for any

believer, man or woman, to have the choice in the affair. Anyone who disobeysGod and his messengerhas gone astray into manifesterror. (Sura33, verse36)

If the non-believerattempts to insist that the believerholds his fundamentalbeliefs in a way that acknowledgesthat thosebeliefs might change,then this is requiring him to accept,while he is still a believer,that the beliefs which God hasgiven him might turn out to be false. This is doing more thanasking him to entertaindoubts where before he had certainty;it is askinghim to be preparedto deny his faith in God himself. In Islam, however, both doubt and unbelief are seen as a sign of a person'sconfusion and ignorance,or elsewilfulness, rather than as an exercisein rationality, independenceor critical openness.

To put it another way, a political belief (in Conservatism, for example) might reasonably be held in a critically open manner, because not only is the adherent's understanding of Conservatism likely to change with time, but also Conservatism is itself recognised as a humanly constructedconceptual system which is liable to change and error. In religious belief, on the other hand, though few would deny that the believer's understandingof God might grow and change and develop, the object of that belief, God himself, is not similarly subject to change. The belief is thus anchored in the absolutein a way that political beliefs are not. For the Muslim, God!s nature is real, objective and unchanging, and so is the response which he requires from human beings, as indicated in his final revelation to them, the Quran. This responseinvolves experiencing the world as the field of God's activity, and therefore fundamental religious beliefs cannot be treated as a self-contained entity that -may be dealt with separatelyfrom the rest of life and may be retained, modified or rejected in the light of alternative beliefs, new circumstances,experience or reason. For the believer, his faith

231 ChapterNine is what glues the whole of knowledge together, and if God created the world, it seems perverse to seek to understand any part of it - whether history or art or the physical God. Where Hurst's structure of the world - without reference to the purposes of argument goes wrong on an Islamic view is that he treats religious beliefs as just one more set of propositions about the world, which sooner or later even Muslims will seek to open up to rational, critical appraisal. To Muslims, however, though scientific, political and all other beliefs that are the product of human activity may be changeable and challengeable,fundamental religious beliefs emanatefrom God, not from man, and are therefore unchanging. Muslims thus can make no sense of the claim that they should be held and taught in a way which leaves them open to critical challenge.

To sum up. Very many Muslims are aware that there have been and still are seriousfaults in the traditional Muslim systemof education: it is often backward- looking,out-of-date, authoritarian, intolerant, constricting and intellectually stagnant (El Tom, 1981,p 41). But this doesnot necessarilymean that they areprepared to swing to the otherextreme and cease to teachIslam to their childrenaltogether or teachit in a way which is'open-endedin the outcomeof particularbeliefs which pupils might come to hold' (Hirst, 1983, p 3). On the contrary, what is being sought is a systematic reconstructionof knowledgeand education which is truly in harmonywith Islam. 'Me idea of holding religious beliefs tentativelyand presentingthem to children as opento questionand potentially revisableor disposableis a kind of nonsensein Islam. From an Islamic viewpoint, therefore,any proposedcommon systemof educationthat is basedon either the secularisationof education(involving the abolition of religious educationand worship) or on religious neutrality (in which Islam is presentedas on a

par with otherreligious and non-religious world views) cannotbe accepted.

****

232 ChapterNine

A seriousimpasse has now beenreached. A coherentcommon education would have to be basedon some sort of systematicand unified set of values. But it has

becomeclear that there is not agreementover a sufficiently substantialset of shared

valueseven between liberalism and Islam. Neitherperspective appears willing to accept that the value of an agreedcommon educational system is sufficient to justify the

concessionsthat arenecessary to makeit possible. A dilernmanow facesliberalism, in so far as it is the dominantunderlying philosophy of Westerndemocracies and therefore in a position to imposeits views on minorities such as Muslims in the West. Shouldit

concedethat theprinciple of commoneducational experience for all childrenis incapable

of realisation,and henceallow Muslim parentsand othersto educatetheir children, if they chooseto, in religious schools?Or shouldit in fact imposeits values(in the name

of protectingthe bestinterests of the children)on an unwilling minority andrun the risk of beingbranded totalitarian and intolerant? A way of resolvingthis dilemmaforms the

main topic of the next chapter.

233 PART FOUR EDUCATION FOR MUSLIM CHILDREN IN THE U. K POSSIBILITIES

234 CHAPTER TEN

MUSLIM DENOMINATIONAL SCHOOLS RECONSIDERED

It is clear that significant numbers of Muslims in the U. K. do not share a sufficiently substantialset of valueswith the majority to enableagreement to be reached over a common educationalsystem. It is equally clear that many Muslims are not satisfied with the concessionscurrently being granted by some LEAs (see Chapter Two), including the retention of single-sexeducation, the provision of halal meatfor school dinners, permission to be absent from school on religious feast days and permission to wear a school uniform and gameskit that is in keeping with Islamic notions of decency and modesty. Although such concessionshave succeededin defusingsome of the angerfelt by Muslim parentswhen they have seentheir children put in a position where they are expectedby schoolsto act in a way that is contrary to their faith, the concessionsare still in one sensetokenistic. This is becausethey are piecemealconcessions which relate to the external manifestationsof Islam without paying any attention to the underlying spiritual beliefs and values which give them coherence (see Chapters Seven and Eight). A failure to take account of these underlying, unifying, Islamic beliefs and values makes the concessions appear arbitrary, eccentric,even devoid of meaning;it might also lead to the conclusionthat Muslims would be unreasonablenot to welcome,for example,the retention of an all- girls schoolcommitted to feminism (cf Khan-Cheema,1984, p 10; McElroy, 1985,p

7) or the establishmentin a predominantlyMuslim areaof a community schoolwith a public bar and mixed bathing. However, it is hard to seehow adequateattention may

be paid in educationto the underlying beliefs and valuesof Islam exceptin someform

of Muslim denominationalschools. Only in such a school would it be possible to

provide both direct religious teachingof Islam and an Islamic ethos,where the values,

aims, attitudesand procedures(cf Dancy, 1980)are consistentwith Islamic principles

235 ChapterTen and importanceis placed on the personalbeliefs of the teachers. The Islamic ethos would help to promote consistencybetween the home and the school, which in turn

would help children to feel securein their religious and cultural roots and to avoid the

well-documentedtension and conflict of loyaltiesthat Muslim childrenoften experience in stateschools (cf Morrish, 1971;Iqbal, 1977;Rahman, 1977).

Muslim denominationalschools may take one of threeforms: independent,opted-

out or voluntary-aided. Current evidence suggests(e. g. HMI, 1984,1987a, 1987b, 1987c) that Muslim groups in the U. K. often lack the financial resources and

educational and administrative expertise to run independentschools to a standard comparableto that of state education. Although some Muslim groups have given

seriousconsideration to the possibility of taking advantageof the right conferredby the 1988Education Act to opt out of local authority control, subject to the wishes of the

majority of parentsand governors(cf The Times EducationalSupplement, 16th October 1987, p 1), many are aware of the problems that would accompany such action

particularly the loss of good-will, co-operationand advice from the LEA (cf Ashraf, 1988a). The preferredsolution among Muslims seemsto be to requestvoluntary-aided

status,both for independentMuslim schoolswishing to join the maintainedsystem (as in the caseof the Islamia Primary Schoolin Brent and the ZakariahGirls' High School

in Batley) and for existing stateschools which have a considerablemajority of Muslim pupils (as in the case of the five schools in Bradford which the Muslim Parents' Associationsought to take over as voluntary-aidedschools; see Appendix One). Such

schoolsare financedmainly by the stateand have their standardsof generaleducation

laid down by the DES, but their governorshave the freedom,within certainboundaries,

to determinetheir own admissionspolicy, to appoint teachers(in which case,attention

can be paid to the teachers'personal faith) and to determinethe natureof the religious

educationand worship in the school(which could thus be plannedaccording to Islamic

principles). The right of Muslims, like other religious groups,to seekto establishtheir own voluntary-aidedschools is firmly enshrinedin the 1944Education Act (cf Swann

236 ChapterTen

Rag1l, 1985,pp 499,515). The right is currently exercisedby other major religious groups and sectsin the U.K., notably Anglicans, Roman Catholics, Methodists and Jews. Ile call for Muslim voluntary-aidedschools, which hasbeen frequently heard in very recentyears, may thus be seenas a call for parity of treatmentwith other minority religious groupsin the U.K.

Ibis leads to the liberal dilemma with which ChapterNine concluded. Should

liberalsaccept in principle that Muslim parentsand othersshould be free to educatetheir

children, if they so choose,in their own denominationalschools? This would involve is recognisingthat the principle of a common educationalexperience for all children incapable of realisation, and acknowledging the right of non-liberal groups to use

educationto maintaintheir own world views. Or shouldliberals, in so far as they arein a position to do so (for liberalism is the don-dnantunderlying philosophy of Western democracies),seek to insist that all children do receive a common educational

experienceand that this experienceis defined in terms of liberal values? This would involve imposing liberal values (in the name of protecting the best interestsof the

children) on an unwilling minority, who may be excusedfor judging liberalism to be intolerantand tyrannous.There is no completelyclear-cut solution to this dilemma. In

a democracy,the assumptionis that peoplecan do what they want unlessthere are good reasonsfor not allowing them to do so. So the question is whether or not there are

goodreasons for not allowing Muslims to sendtheir children to denon-driationalschools if they chooseto do so. Some liberals suggestthere are good reasons,some not. A further questionwhich must be askedis whether,even if thereare goodreasons for not

allowing Muslim, denominational schools, it may nonethelessbe wiser and more

expedient on practical rather than,principled grounds to accept them and to avoid compulsion.

In the first sectionof the presentchapter, two extreme liberal responsesto the dilemma will be considered,the first arguing for the freedom of Muslims to educate

237 ChapterTen their children as they wish, and the secondagainst I shall then proposea middle path between these two extremes. The remainder of the chapter will be devoted to an examinationof the implicationsof this middle path.

****

The first liberal responseto the dilemma, then, involves recognisingthe freedom

of Muslims to educatetheir children as they wish. This responseis groundedon three liberal doctrines. The first is the fundamentalvalue of freedomfrom tyranny including

the tyranny of the majority; such freedom lies at the heart of the liberal ideal of democracy(cf Popper, 1966, p 125). The secondis the recognition of the need to

respectdifferent values within society (cf Crick, 1977); this is commonly put more

strongly, expecially in discussionsof multi-cultural education,as the 'celebrationof diversity' (cf Saunders,1982, p 13). Thus the SwannRel2ort claims that

the conceptofpluralism implies seeingthe very diversity of such a society the those it. ... as an enrichmentof experienceof all within (DES, 1985,p 5)

The third factor is the willingnessof liberals to defendwhat they oppose. This is based

on the principle that the statehas no right to imposea preferredway of life, but should leave its citizens as free as possible to choosetheir own values and ends,consistent

with a similar liberty for others(Sandel, 1984, p 1). 'Mus liberals distinguishbetween permittinga practice(pornography, for example)and endorsing it. Permittinga practice in this senseis basedon the liberal principles of toleration, freedom of choice and fairness.

It is considerationssuch as thesewhich leadLustgarten to arguethat

238 ChapterTen

ethnicminorities shall bepermitted unrestrictedfreedom to follow their own customsand religious practices, be governed by their personal law, and

receiveeducation in their languageand cultural tradition. This is subjectto but two limitations. Thefirst is that a practice may rightly be outlawed

where it results in severephysical abuse or worse. The second is that institutionalaccommodation to differentpatterns of life amongminorities is

requiredunless it can be shownto be wholly impracticable. (1983, p 101)

Clearly,the notion of liberty which underpinsthis argumentis very different from Mill's (1972b). Though it may make use of Mill's principled objection to compulsion and coercion,where he claims that 'all restraint, qua restraint, is an evil' and 'leaving peopleto themselvesis alwaysbetter, caeterisparibus, than controlling them!(ibid, p 150-1), it doesnot acceptthe high value Mill placeson individuality or his dismissalof actionsbased on inheritedcustom. Though Lustgartenpresents his argumentswithin a liberal framework, the views he expressesare to be found more frequently among conservativesor those writing Within a religious tradition. Thus Hiskett arguesthat from a conservativepoint of view, granting Muslims permission to have maintained denominationalschools

is faithful to the principle of limited government- that governmentought simply to set up an arena in which citizenscan work out their own solutions

but should not attemptto constructthose solutionsfor them. Under such a

free market discipline the educationof Muslims in Britain is most likely to

find its own level within the law and culture of the land.

(1989, p 39-40)

Writing from a religious perspective, Haldane argues that members of religious

communities such as the Muslims are more likely to accept the value of religious

239 ChapterTen toleranceif they are themselvesbeneficiaries of it, that is, if, insteadof being required to sendtheir children to secularschools, they are given supportto maintain their own institutions. He arguesthat

if culturesare to be takenseriously, non-aggressive commitments are to be respectedandfreedoms are to be acknowledged,then there is no option but to extendthe systemof voluntary-aidedschools to the Muslim community. (1988, p 233)

As a liberal, however, Lustgarten is aware of some of the problems with his position. One problem is what ki:ndl of groups are to be permitted the unrestricted freedomto follow their own customsand religious practicesthat he proposes.Another, more fundamental,problem, arises in considerationof the well-documentedcase of the Amish: how far shouldparents' views of the proper way of life govern their children's behaviour until they leave home, and are they entitled under any circumstancesto foreclosetheir children's ability to participatein the wider societyor at leastto opt out of the group (cf Lustgarten,1983, p 104-5)? It is the desireto protect the life chances of children from being foreclosed in this way that leads many liberals to reject the position advocatedby Lustgarten.

The secondliberal responseto the dilemmaset out at the beginningof the chapter, then, involves a rejection of the freedomof Muslims to educatetheir children as they wish. White, who advocatesthis view, argues that the upbringing of children is a special case, where the liberal principle of freedom of action is subject to certain limitations. On the whole, he is happyfor the valuesof ethnic minority communitiesto be left to 'flourish or wither as the reflective judgementsof their membersdetermine'

(1987, p 24). He argues that there is no case for any adult members of such communitiesto be forced to relinquish their group values, however out of step they

may be with 'the national consensus!,so long as they bring no harm to others. But as

240 ChapterTen far as children are concerned,the larger community may sometimeshave to interfere with minority groupvalues in their upbringing. This is because

children must be brought up in such a way as to enable themfreely to participatein [the larger community]. This setslimits to howfar theycan be brought up to believethat the valuesof their [minority] communityare the

only onesthey shouldfollow. (ibid, p 24)

Raz (1986) addsmore substanceto White's argument. After establishingthat autonomyis a constituentelement of the good life on a liberal view (p 408) and that harm occurswhen autonomyis threatened(p 412 ff), he turns to the problemof how to treat communitiessuch as religious sectswhose culture doesnot supportautonomy. In so far as suchcommunities insist on bringing up their children in their own ways, they are, on Raz'sview, harming them (p 423); so the questionarises whether coercion can justifiably be used to break up such communities,for example, by refusing to allow them permissionto run separateschools for their children. Raz suggeststhat although in theory peoplemay be justified in taking action to assin-dlatethe minority group, in practicesuch action might causemore harm thantolerating what would on a liberal view be an inferior way of life. However, if the minority community were judged to be condemningits young to 'an impoverished,unrewarding life! and denying them the opportunity'to thrive outsidethe community, then

assimilationist policies may well be the only humane course, even if implementedbyforce of law. (p 424)

241 ChapterTen

Hirst (1983) adopts a rather different approach in rejecting the freedom of Muslims to educatetheir children as they wish, as has alreadybeen seenin Chapters

Eight and Nine. He suggeststhat an open,pluralist societywill

be intolerant of individuals, groups and practices, etc., which seek to undermineopen, critical debateon any matter. (p 5)

His vision of the liberal societyis lessconcerned with 'the mutual tolerationof different moralities' (Wollheim, 1959) betweenwhich the individual is free to make a rational choice,and morewith Mill's notion of refining and developingmoral beliefs andvalues through a continuousprocess of experimentationand debate(cf Mitchell, 1967,p 89). Hirst further arguesthat separateschools for the adherentsof particularreligious faiths are educationallyand socially less desirablethan pluralist schools. The educational argumentagainst such schoolshas been consideredin detail in ChaptersEight and Nine, and highlights the fundamentaldisagreement between liberals and Muslims to which the presentchapter is seekinga practical solution. In brief, his argumentis that suchschools would be usedto advocatea particularreligious position and to confwrna minority in their own culture, whereaseducation should be concerned to promote justifiable beliefs through an understanding of different possibilities and their implications, and should be open-endedas far as the particular beliefs which pupils might cometo hold are concerned.The social argumentis that suchschools tend to be socially divisive and that the isolation of minority groupsis likely toprolong injustice

and intoleranceat the handsof the majority' (1983,p 6).

Wolff (1968, p 74) has drawn attention to someof the problems with this more

hard-lineliberal approach:non-liberals will only be permittedto bring up their children long as they wish so as they first subscribeto certain liberal principles. With some irony he commentsthat true believersalways find it impossibleto imagine that decent

242 ChapterTen men could honestly disagreewith them. Even more seriously, the hard-line liberal approachlays itself open to criticism as tyrannousand intolerant - the very qualities which liberalismis committedto eradicate.Strike remindsus how seriousan attackit is on an individual or a groupto compelthem to violate their own fundamentalconvictions (1982b, p 94); in fact, he goes further and argues that it is incompatible with the principlesof liberalismto seekto imposeany beliefs or versionsof the goodlife on any citizen of a liberal democratic state. All beliefs - even such f6ndamental ones as autonomy and respectfor persons- must be arrived at without any compulsion by government;indeed, it is this fact that makesliberalism 'inevitably vulnerableto self- destructionas a coherentmoral ideology' (Fishkin, 1984,p 155-6). But to compel all children to undergoa commoneducational experience based on a particular framework of fundamentalliberal beliefs whetheror not theseare sharedby the children or their parentscomes perilously close to the kind of imposition of beliefs which is unjustiflable from a liberal perspective.

****

Thereis, however,a middle path betweenthe two extremeliberal positionswhich have so far been examined. To recapitulate,the problem is that the Muslims in the

U.K. form a largely self-containedcommunity and that there is no way that satisfies criteria of freedom, equality and justice of incorporating them into the educational

systemof the broadercommunity whose values they do not share. I want to arguethat the middle path, which representsa compromisebetween the two extremes,holds the

bestchance of providing a satisfactorysolution to the problem. This approachinvolves

acceptingthat Muslims should be free to establishtheir own denominationalschools,

but only subjectto certain conditions, which will be specified shortly. To reach this

position, the liberal 'wets' like Lustgarten will have to concedethat the freedom of

ethnic minorities to educatetheir children in their own denominationalschools must be dependenton their meetingcertain criteria relatingto the public interestand the interests

243 ChapterTen of the children themselves.On the other hand, the liberal 'hard-liners'like White and Hirst may have to concede that, in our present contingent circumstances, denominationalschools may be the lesserof two evils. Such an approachis in fact a familiar one to liberals. I referredin ChapterSix to Crittenden'sargument (1982) that a liberal pluralist societyis likely to tolerateways of life that arenot rationally defensible so long as theseare not in conflict with fundamentalliberal values such asjustice and freedom, becauseif membersof groups committed to such ways of life cannot be persuadedby rationalmeans to give them up, it may be the lesserof two evils merelyto toleratethem rather than attempting to removethem by force. Raz (1986,p 423) argues somekind of test of viability may be the most important considerationin determining policy towardssuch groups. So long as the culture of the group enablesits members 'to have an adequateand satisfying life' (however this is defined), and so long as it doesnot lead them to harm othersor to diminish the optionsopen to peopleoutside the group, then the continuedexistence of the group 'should be tolerated,despite its scant regard for autonomy' (ibid, p 423). Strike (1982a,p 56) discussesarguments from

Mill (1972b)which seemto suggestthat even if liberalism is 100per cent right and the religious approachto education100 per cent wrong, theremay be utilitarian benefitsin tolerating the continued existenceof the religious approach,because a true opinion needsto be challengedif its vitality and basisin rationality is to be appreciated.

Certainly thereare strongcontingent arguments in favour of the establishmentof Muslim voluntary-aided schools,as I have pointed out elsewhere(Halstead, 1986).

First, in cities like Bradford with a large Muslim population, separateMuslim schools arecurrently being createdby default. This is becausewhen the proportion of Muslim

(or other ethnic minority) pupils in a schoolreaches a certainlevel, indigenousparents

will sometimesstop sendingtheir children there (cf McEiroy, 1985) and the schools quickly become

244 ChapterTen

defacto 'separate'schools for particular ethnic minority groups in all but

nameand legal status, since they have a considerablemajority of ethnic

minoritypupils. (SwannReport, 1985,p 499)

Thus, far from being a threatto 'the stability and cohesionof society as a whole' (ibid, p 7), separateschools are in fact being createdby the actionsof the white majority, and in such circumstancesit seemsunfair not to allow the minority group concernedthe right to a major sayin the running of the school,the curriculum and the appointmentof teachers.

Secondly,as membersof the dissentinggroup on the SwannCommittee pointed out (ibid, p 515), it appears unjust and discriminatory to refuse to allow the establishmentof Muslim voluntary-aidedschools while Christiansand Jews continue to enjoy the right to their own voluntary-aided schools. Haldane (1986, p 163-5) commentson the irony that Muslims are expectedto be satisfied when their own requestsfor such schoolsare turned down so long as other religious groups are not allowedthem either.

a societythat would respondto [Muslims] expressionof deepattaclunent to tradition by castingoff its own inheritancemight not be wholly sincerein its

commitmentto respectthe integrity of Muslim and other essentiallyreligious immigrantcultures.

(Haldane, 1988,p 232)

Ibirdly, to argue,as the SwannRej2ort does (1985, p 509), that it is not desirable for groups of Asian children to be taught exclusively by teachersof the sameethnic group without similarly criticising schoolswhere groupsof white children are taught exclusively by teachersof the sameethnic group appearsto be discriminatory. And to

245 ChapterTen suggestthat Muslim voluntary-aided schools might not do a good job, when other voluntary-aidedschools are often both over-subscribedand academicallysuccessful, againgives the impressionof prejudiceagainst the Muslim community.

Fourthly, if the Muslim request for voluntary-aided schools is refused on the groundsthat the presenceof Muslims in multi-cultural schoolsis neededto help the white majority to shedtheir racist tendencies(ibid, p5 10), then this is another,if more subtle,form of exploitation, since the rights of the Muslim minority would be denied for the benefitof the white majority. A strongcase can thereforebe madethat Muslims shouldhave the right to choosefor themselveswhether such schoolsshould be set up, and if they are, whetherto sendtheir own children to them. At least suchan approach would enablethe debateto be conductedoutside the framework of the interestsof the white majority andwould avoid the dangersof PaternalisticRacism that werediscussed in ChapterTwo (cf Halstead,1988, p 151-3).

Fifthly, if any minority refusesto conform to a cultural norm, it is frequentlythe casethat what is presentedby the majority as a just and rational compromisedoes in fact discriminateagainst the minority. For example,the non-smokerwhose eyes water

in a smoke-filledstaffroorn is liable to feel discriminatedagainst if eachmember of the staff is given the right to choosefreely whetheror not to smoke; and the bus traveller

who is susceptibleto draughtssuffers at the handsof the fresh-air fiends who, quite reasonably,open only the window nearestto them. There are some situationswhere the only solutionappears to be separateprovision. Many Muslims will arguethat this is

the casewith education,for a multi-cultural compromisewhich involves presenting

Islam, communism,humanism and atheism,for example, as if they were all equally

valid views of the world is abhorrentto many Muslims (cf Hull, 1984,p 205). It is not the knowledge of different ways of life per se that they object to, but the failure to

presentthem from the standpointof commitment to the truth of one particular world

246 ChapterTen view, i. e. Islam. Commitment merely to the procedural value of critical openness seemsto manyMuslims like a recipefor moral andreligious chaos.

Sixthly, on a more practical level, it has been argued that there are significant benefitsin encouragingprivate Muslim schoolsto seekvoluntary-aided status, since entry into the statesector may be a way of guaranteeingcertain academicstandards (cf Straw, 1989,p 9).

Finally, the various international codes of human rights (in particular, the EuropeanConvention on Human Rights and the Universal Declaration of Human

Rights) appearto lend support, subject to certain conditions, to the establishmentof denominationalschools. Bailey (1988, p 126-7) sets out three principles which are derivedfrom the internationalcodes of humanrights:

I Subjectto the maintenanceof minimumeducational standards, religious

communitiesor other groupsshould beftee to establishand maintain, at

their own expense,schools in which children are educatedin accordance

with their own beliefs,and parents should beftee to sendtheir children to such schools.

2 The state is five to contribute flnancially to the maintenanceof such schools,but is under no obligation to do so.

3 The state should ensure that neither its own schools, nor those establishedby religiouscommunities or other groups,will promoteor sustaindivisiveness: indeed,it has an obligation to ensurethat all schools,and not only its own, will be so establishedand run as to promoteunderstanding, tolerance andfriendship among different groups, includingreligious ones.

247 ChapterTen

The middle path which I am proposing takes account of these argumentsand acceptsthat Muslims shouldbe allowed, subjectto certainconditions, to establishtheir own voluntary-aided schools. This would give them the right, within certain boundaries,to determinethe form of religious educationand worship to be providedin the school,and to seekto establishan Islamic ethosin the school. Priority would no both direct bias Islam in doubt be given to the task of eradicating against , as the traditional reporting of the Crusadesin Western textbooks, and un-Islamic attitudes suchas the'developmentof doubt and scepticism!(Islamic Academy, 1984,p 4). The schoolgovernors, the majority of whom would be Muslim, would also havethe right to appointteachers and to determinethe admissionspolicy of the school. With regardto the latter, however,Muslim organisationshave already made it clear that in principle they would be happy to admit non-Muslim pupils and to employ Christiansor other believersas teachers(cf Muslim Parents'Association, 1983; Halstead, 1988, p 44).

Ashraf (1986a, p viii; 1988d, p 77) makes the important point that it is not realistic to imaginethat enoughvoluntary-aided schools will be quickly establishedto cater for all the Muslim children in the U.K. There are nearly 20,000 Muslim schoolchildren in Bradford alone. It seemsinevitable that for many years to come large numbers of Muslim school-chilren will be educated in state schools and receive religious instruction separatelyin mosque schools. The Muslim community may thereforebe expectedto keep up its campaignfor single-sexeducation and for other concessionsthat prevent Muslim chidren being put into a situation where they are requiredto act in a way that is conamy to their faith (seeAppendix One), as well as for factually correct teachingabout Islam in stateschools and for LEA supportfor mosque

schools. Nevertheless,Ashraf believesthat Muslim voluntary-aidedschools will set'a

patternand an ideal' for the educationof Muslim children in the U.K., showing that it

is possiblefor sucheducation to be run accordingto Islamic principles (1986a,p viii- ix).

248 ChapterTen

The point of having voluntary-aidedschools is to leave the Muslim community free to direct the personaldevelopment of their own children according to Islamic principles. However, since educationis an activity which occurs in and affects the broadersociety, to saynothing of being financedthrough local and centralgovernment, it is clearthat the broadersociety and the statehave a legitimateinterest in what goeson and the right to insist on certain conditions being met, whether through legislation or throughadvice from HMI and LEA inspectors.Most of theseconditions are implicit in what has alreadybeen written in the presentchapter. For example,no less than other maintainedschools, voluntary-aided schools have a responsibilityto take accountof the needsof industry,to promotetolerance and to preparechildren for citizenship. No less than other maintainedschools, they have a responsibility to ensurethat children are educatedin such a way that they can enjoy a satisfying economic and social life. Finally, Hirst's point about social divisivenessneeds to be considered: the statehas a right to expectthat voluntary-aidedschools should not further the isolation of minority groupsor play into the handsof racists. Thesevarious points can be brought together under two headings,the first relating to the public interest and the second to the interestsof the child.

The public interest (as defined in ChapterFive) requires that a minimum set of commonvalues and standardsof behaviourshould be acceptedas axiomatic in all the schoolsof a given societyor state,including voluntary-aidedschools. 'Mere are three dimensionsto any such minimum set of common values. The first is a basic social morality without which no form of sociallife would be possible(in particular,a respect for justice and a recognitionthat other groupshave as much right as one'sown to avoid physical pain and death among their members). The secondis the acceptanceof a commonsystem of law and governmentby all groupswithin the broadersociety, and a commitmentto seekto changethese only throughdemocratic means. Sinceall citizens sharethe samelaws, the samepolitical rights and the sameeconomic system, it is

249 ChapterTen important that they shouldbe able to'communicate intelligibly' and'function properly in a just society', and it is 'a legitimate object of public concern' that they should becomegood citizens and become economically productive (Strike, 1982a,p 159). The third is a commitmentto at least someof the valuespresupposed by the pluralist ideal, particularly the tolerationof groupswith different ideals to one'sown and the rejection of violence as a meansof persuasion. The state has a legitimate right to protect the public interestfrom harm and thereforehas the right to insist, for example,that they do not educatechildren in a way that might fuel intolerance or undermine social co- operation.There is muchevidence to suggestthat the teachingof a basicsocial morality

would present few problems for Muslim denominational schools, and that the preparationof pupils for citizenship would be acceptedas an important part of the school's role (cf Halstead, 1986, p 23), but I shall argue shortly that Muslim

organisationscurrently need to give much more thoughtto practicalways of promoting tolerancetowards groups with different valuesand beliefs from their own.

Although acceptingthat Muslims should be free to set up their own voluntary-

aidedschools involves acceptingthat the Muslim community has the right to direct the personaldevelopment of Muslim children, this doesnot meanthat the statewashes its

handsof any needto protect the interestsof the child. On the contrary, the social and economicinterests of the child are still very much part of the state'sdomain. There is a need to ensure,for example,that the quality of educationprovided in the voluntary-

aidedschool is high enoughfor its pupils to competein the job-market on equal terms with pupils from other maintainedschools; of course,voluntary-aided schools are open to inspection by HMI and LEA advisers, and are required to follow the National

Curriculum. Someof the problemswhich might ariseas a result of this requirementare

outlined below. The state also has a duty to ensure that pupils at voluntary-aided

schoolsdo not experienceinjustice and intoleranceat the hands of the majority as a

result of their institutional separationfrom the broadersociety. This points to the need both for a continuedemphasis on toleranceand mutual understandingin all schools,

250 ChapterTen and for a significant interaction with the broader community on the part of pupils at Muslim voluntary-aidedschools.

Muslims who have in recent years pressedthe case for the establishmentof

Muslim voluntary-aidedschools have, not surprisingly, tendedto concentrateon the kind of religious teachingthat such schoolswould offer and the way in which they

would seekto cater for the personalinterests of their children. In the final sectionof this chapterI want to indicate someof the other areasof educationalprovision within

the proposedMuslim voluntary-aidedschools which are in urgent needof clarification

and more detailed investigation.The final section therefore considerswhere further investigationmay profitably build on the work which hasbeen carried out in the present

thesis.

****

The first area which needsmuch greater clarification is the extent to which,

leaving asidethe specific areaof religious educationand worship, Muslims would be happy in their own voluntary-aided schools to work within the framework of the National Curriculum. Very little work hasbeen done so far by Muslims on this specific issue,but an examinationof the curriculum of existing independentMuslim schoolsin the U. K. provides someidea of where the problems may lie. The curriculum of the Islamic College,Whitechapel Road, London, for example,does not include any music

(apart from Quranic chanting), art (apart from calligraphy), design, technology or a

Europeanlanguage other than English (11iskett,1989, p 12-13) though there is no

reasonin principle why the last three shouldnot be provided. Other areaswhich may be problematicfor Muslims aredance and sex education,and they may wish to change aspectsof the sciencecurriculum to allow for belief in creationism(see Chapter Eight).

Eachproblematic areaof the curriculum needsto be examinedin detail, and Muslim leaders must be willing to explore the reasonswhy the subject is included in the

251 ChapterTen

National Curriculumand perhaps reconsider their own attitudeto the subject. Western music, for example,is never, to my knowledge, included in the curriculum of any independentMuslim school in the U.K., but it is by no meansclear whether this is becauseof cultural prejudiceor becausethe music is seento be in conflict with Islamic principles. It is very difficult to imagine the reasonsfor a principled objection by Muslims to certainkinds of classicalmusic that have beendirectly inspiredby religion and that representman! s searchfor the infinite. Hiskett (1989, p 35-6) makessome sensiblesuggestions about how to fit religious teachingand Arabic into the curriculum and how to compromiseover sex education,but there is clearly much more to be done in this areaas well (cf Ashraf, 1988c).

The second area where much more work must be done by Muslims is the

clarification of how other world views would be presentedin Muslim schools. It is one

thing to acceptthe principle of toleratinggroups with beliefs and valuesdifferent from

one's own, but somethingelse to encouragechildren and young people to practise

suchtolerance. Practical tolerance is madeeasier if peopleunderstand the group they

are tolerating,and Muslims needto makeclear how they would presentto their pupils

not only the beliefs and values of other faiths, but also the values of non-religious

world views. What is needed,for example, is for Muslim children to be given an introduction to liberal values, to what liberals believe about autonomy,about critical openness,about indoctrination, about sexual equality and so on. Certainly such an introduction could be presentedfrom an Islamic point of view, but unlessit was not unsympatheticin its approach,it would hardly serve the interests of tolerance and mutual understandingwithin our society. To my knowledge,Muslims have not begun to addressthis issueas yet.

is danger There clearly a that if Muslim children attendedMuslim voluntary-aided further increase isolation schools,this would the of the Muslim community which was One notedin Chapters andTwo. Ile third areawhere work needsto be done is thus to

252 ChapterTen explore ways of reducing the isolation of the Muslim community. Clearly it is not enoughthat Muslims shouldunderstand the beliefs and valuesof the broadersociety. Someway must be found of engagingin dialogueand co-operationwith non-Muslims, so that bridgesmay be built betweencommunities and divisivenessavoided. Perhaps the only argumentthat could be developedfor allowing voluntary-aided schoolsfor Catholics,Anglicans, Methodistsand Jews but not for Muslims is that the Muslims, unlike the others,are not fully integratedinto the dominantBritish culture and are not membersof cross-cuttinggroups that mingle freely in the pub, the dance-hallor the rugby club, for example. As Hiskett (1989, p 11) points out, to grant denominational status to a Jewish school does not involve the state in cutting its pupils off from significant areasof British, indeed Western European,culture, but to grant it to a Muslim schoolmight well seemto do so. It is incumbenton Muslims thereforeto spell

out the specific stepsthey would take to avoid their children becomingisolated from

contactwith the cultureand the peopleof the broadercommunity.

It may be that Muslims will find it easierto interact, co-operateand enter into

dialogue with membersof the other faith-communities in the U. K. than with other

membersof the broadercommunity. Watt (1979,p 203) detectscertain indications that

Islam is abandoningits earlier isolationist attitude with regard to Christianity and suggeststhat thereis a growing feeling that

Islam and Christianity are ultimately on the same side in the spiritual strugglesthat lie beforehumanity.

Nasr (1981, p 36) argues that it is time for Muslim scholars to carry out more serious

studies of other religions and that

the bestway to defendIslam in its integral nature today is to defendrefigio

perennis,the primordial religion (al-din al-hanif) which lies at the heart of

253 ClWter Ten

Islam and also at the centreof all religions which havebeen sent to man by

thegrace of heaven.

Yamani (1983, px) says that apart from a few crucial differences, there is Vavast expanseof humanconduct and behaviour'in which Christiansand Muslims will find they are at one. The time thus seemsripe for seriousdialogue to begin betweenIslam and otherreligions, especially Christianity (Nasr, 1981, p 35). By dialogue,I meanthe mutual exchangeof views betweengroups who have a genuineinterest in eachother and areprepared to learn from eachother. Indeed,such dialogue has alreadybegun in practice. For example, The Centre for the Study of Islam and Christian-Muslim Relations has been establishedfor a number of years in Birmingham. The Islamic Academyin Cambridgeis currently engagedin dialoguewith Hindu representativesas well as with Christians,and is seekingto co-operatewith the FarmingtonInstitute and with projects at King's College, London to establisha faith-basedcurriculum which may be acceptableto believersfrom different faith communities(Ashraf, 1988b,1988e; 1989b). This is an ambitiousproject which is only just at its inception at the time of

writing.

Another way forward which may help to avoid the damaging isolation of the

Muslim community might be the establishmentof joint Muslim-Christian voluntary-

aided schools. No such project has as yet been proposed,but it would seemto be a possiblesolution to a problem that occursnot infrequently in someinner-city districts, that a Churchof Englandvoluntary schoolfinds itself with a majority of Muslim pupils. The idea of a joint voluntary-aidedschool is not without precedent;indeed, there are

now about half a dozen joint Catholic/Anglican schools, including one which was establishedin Cambridgein 1988. Nonetheless,it would be foolish to underestimate the difficulties. A systematicapproach to the project would involve first, making clear

the fundamentalvalues which were agreedbetween the two (or more) religious groups responsiblefor establishingthe school;secondly, defining the extentof the co-operation

254 ChapterTen between the two groups; and thirdly, establishing procedures for resolving the disagreementsand conflicts that would inevitably occur. With regard to the first of thesetasks, Watt (1983)has stressedhow many fundamentalbeliefs and valuesare in fact sharedbetween Islam and Christianity. Yandell (1984, p vii ff) makesa useful distinction between 'context beliefs' and 'core beliefs'. Context beliefs are presupposedby, andprovide the context for, the more specific core beliefs. A context belief, for example,might be that religious knowledge is gained primarily through revelation; a core belief, that the Quran was revealed by God to the Prophet Muhammad. The belief that God governs the course of history might be a context belief, whereasa belief in the secondcoming of the Messiahwould be a core belief. It

may be possibleto producea sharedreligious ethosfor a joint Muslim-Christianschool basedon context beliefs, and to allow separatereligious instruction within the school

for core beliefs. Clearly, however,very much more work is neededon such a project before it could ever becomea viable possibility, and it is beyond the scopeof the

presentthesis to exploreit more fully here.

What it is hopedthe presentthesis has achieved,however, is a clarification of the

reasonswhy many Muslims are dissatisfied with the education provided for their children in the U.K., as well as of the values that would underpin a genuinely Islamic

education, and the fundamental conflicts between liberal and Islamic views of education. An understandingof the genuinedifficulties, both practical and conceptual,

that lie in the path of providing an educationfor Muslim chidren which is acceptableto

Muslims themselvesis a pre-condition for successful policy-making in this area, whateverway forward is eventuallyadopted.

255 APPENDIX ONE

EDUCATIONAL DEMANDS OF MUSLIMS IN BRADFORD AND LOCAL AUTHORITY RESPONSES

(1) The Teaching of Islam in State Schools

Not surprisingly,the first demandto be madeby the Muslims in Bradford wasfor the teachingof Islam in schools,though this demandwas not madeuntil the late 1960s, when the Muslim cornmunitywas alreadyboth sizableand well-established.Up to that time, the transmission of the Islamic faith and culture had been considered the responsibility of the family and the mosque school. Saifullah Khan (1975) has emphasisedparticularly the role of Muslim women in the transmissionof religious traditions, and, in earlier research,Goodall (1968) reported that most children from Pakistanifamilies in Bradford attendedmosque schools from fifteen to twenty hoursa week,to learn Arabic andUrdu and to readthe Quean.

As Muslim groupsbecame aware of the generalright of parentsunder the 1944 EducationAct to arrangedenominational religious instruction for their children, either by bringing an outside instructor into the school or by taking their children out of schoolat the beginningor end of the schoolday for suchlessons, so pressurebegan to mount for suchinstruction to be provided for Muslim children in Bradford!s secondary schools. The Muslim Associationof Bradford and the Muslim EducationTrust were the main pressuregroups involved at this stage. In 1969, Bradford's Director of Education,FJ Adams, was worried by theserequests, though he recognisedthe need in principle to respectthe rights of minorities. He saw them as running counter to

Bradford's policy of integration, and spoke of the danger of a 'divisive element

creepinginto the schools'. Initially, permissionwas given for instruction in Islam only

256 AppendixOne at Bradford!s immigrant education centres, but in 1972 this was extended to any secondary schools in the district. Commenting on this decision by Bradford's EducationalServices Committee, Councillor Albert Swindlehurstsaid, 'Until therewas integration and they perhapshad their own denominational schools, the committee

shouldat leastattempt to help thea.

Thus Bradford's LAM No. 2/82, which is discussed in Chapter Two, was a

clarification and codification of policy which had been instituted ten years earlier.

Parents were free to withdraw children from school to receive religious instruction

elsewhere, or to arrange for such instruction to be held on school premises. The last

hour of school on Fridays was set aside for this purpose. In addition, imams were

given permission to enter schools at lunch-time, on the request of parents, to lead

Muslim children in prayer.

The demand for the teaching of Islam in state schools had two further

repercussionson local authority policy. First, it actedas a catalystto the development of the city's new agreedsyllabus for Religious Education,which soughtto give a fair treatmentof, and show equal respectfor, all the major world faiths. Secondly, the

proliferating mosqueschools and other supplementaryschools, which remained the main centresfor instruction in Islam, were financially supportedby the Council. In

1983, a grant of 000,000 was temporarily withheld in an attempt to persuadethe supplementaryschools to improve standardsof healthand safety.

Two main doubtshang over local authority policy. On the one hand,there is the

questionhow far, if at all, local authority schoolscan be usedto maintain and transmit

any religious faith. On the other, it is questionablewhether the Council should give

financial supportto supplementaryschools whose method of teaching and discipline

and dogmatic approachare fundamentallyin conflict with contemporaryeducational in belief andpractice this country. It has alsobeen claimed that lengthy tuition outside

257 AppendixOne

from school hours curtails Muslim children!s chancesof benefitting educationally normal extra-curricularactivities, and perhapsimpairs their ability to obtain maximum benefitfrom their schooling.

The Retention of Single-Sex Schooling

Single-sexschooling, particularly for girls of secondaryschool age, has been one

of the most sustaineddemands of the Muslims in Bradford (Iqbal, 1975). Islamic law

and traditionsdo not allow the free mixing of the sexesoutside the family after the age

of puberty,and someMuslim parentshave been prepared to keep their daughtersaway from schoolaltogether, or to sendthem to Pakistanto completetheir education,rather

than allow them to attenda co-educationalschool (cf Selbourne,1987, p 103). Apart

from an unrealisticrequest in 1973by the Muslim Associationof Bradford for the law to be changedto allow the girls to leave school at the age of twelve, single-sex

schooling appearsto offer the only solution to this situation. Initially, the main

pressurefrom groupssuch as the Muslim ParenteAssociation, the JamiyatTablighul- Islam and the World Islamic Mission was for a separateschool for Muslim girls to be

establishedwith financial assistancefrom the Council. Eventually in 1983a fee-paying schoolwas openedin Bradford by the Muslim Association,with placesfor 100 senior Muslim girls; however, this school has been criticised by Her Majesty's Inspectorate for its inadequateaccommodation and resources,its lack of suitably qualified staff, its

lack of a balancedcurriculum and its low expectationsof pupil performance(HMI, 1987a). Ibis schoolcould not in any caseaccept more than a small percentageof the

Muslim girls in the city; by 1983,there were approaching2,000 of upper school age,

andMuslim pressuregroups such as the Council for Mosquesbegan to put their efforts

into demandingthat Bradford Council shouldreverse its co-educationalpolicy, and at

least retain the statusof Belle Vue, the only remaining girls' upper school under its control. Ironically, thereis a large Catholic girls' upper school in the city, St JosepWs

258 AppendixOne

College, with significant numbersof pupils of Polish, Ukrainian, Italian and West

Indian origin, but as it hasvoluntary-aided status the governorsare entitled to fix the school'sadmissions policy. 85% of the placesreserved for Catholics, and priority for the remainingplaces is given to parentsspecifically seekinga Christian educationfor their daughters.Many Muslim girls eachyear arerefused admission on thesegrounds. The third all-girls upper school in the city is the now independentBradford Girls' GrammarSchool, which hasa small percentageof Muslim pupils.

In the early 1970s,the Council mergedmost of its single-sexschools to form co- educationalcomprehensives, and it was Council policy to refusepermission for Muslim girls to transferon cultural groundsto girls-only schools. Ilis policy was explainedby Bradford!s acting Director of Education,B. J. R. Parker, in 1974,when he pointed out that if all Muslim girls in Bradford were free to transfer to Belle Vue Girls! School when it becamethe city's sole girls-only school, it would very soon becomean all- Muslim school. When the policy was changedin 1980,and it was decidedto allocate pupils to schoolson the basisof parentalchoice (though pupils within the catchment areawere given priority in the caseof an over-subscribedschool), Parker'sprophecy rapidly becametrue: by 1984the intake to Belle Vue Girls' School had becomemore than two-thirds Muslim (McElroy, 1985)and this proportion is still rising. The policy turn-aroundwas completedin 1983when a Labour motion to merge Belle Vue Girls' and Boys' Upper Schools was narrowly defeatedin a Council debate. Since 1983, spokesmenof both main partieshave promised to retain the single-sexoption (cf Dawe, 1987).

As was pointed out earlier in the chapter,the CounciVspresent policy on single-

sex schoolsimplies a value judgement that consistencywith their parents'beliefs is

more important in the educationof Muslim children than the benefits of co-education, Muslim that the consequentsegregation of girls into what somecall'ghetto schools'is a for worthwhile price to pay such consistency,and that the rights of parents to make

259 AppendixOne educationaldecisions affecting their own children should take priority over all other considerations,even, if necessary,over the rights of the children themselves.Perhaps, however,this is merely anotherexample of a pragmaticpolicy: at least it tackled the problem of the Muslim girls in the city who were being kept away from school altogether. But even the successof this intention is not guaranteed;in 1984 the headteacherof Belle Vue Girls! Schoolreported that Muslim girls were four timesmore likely thantheir indigenouspeers to be absentfrom her school.

(3) The Abandonment of Mono-cultural Education

It would be wrong to claim that before the 1980sthere was a demandby any of the minority groupsin Bradfordfor anythingcalled multi-cultural education. However, someof the groups- particularly the Muslims again - did fear that their children were being subjectedto moral, cultural and religious indoctrinationin schools,although they did not always use those terms. They expressedconcern about the effect of 'the permissiveBritish society'on Pakistanigirls and about the 'demoralization'of Muslim children. Thesemisgivings about the moral atmosphereof schools tended to focus particularly on sex education,which many Muslims wantedto be discontinued,and on discipline, authority and which they wanted tightening up. No doubt this latter point desire underlies the among someMuslims to retain corporal punishment in mosque highlightedin schools,which was the nationalpress in 1986. There were even greater misgivings about the un-Islamic practiceswhich some Muslim children were being encouragedto engagein - the wearing of skirts, the exposureof girls' bodies in PE, dancing swimming, and showers, and fund-raising activities involving forms of have gambling. SomeMuslims alsoobjected to their childrenhaving to attendChristian assemblies,prayers and religious educationclasses and concernhas increasedin view of the specifically Christian provisions of the 1988 Education Act. The Muslim Parents'Association had been campaigningon theseissues since 1974, and in early

260 AppendixOne

1982 launcheda vitriolic attack on Bradford Council in the form of a thirty-six page report entitled 'Transformationof Muslim Children! (Patel and Shahid, 1982). This report undoubtedlyhad a major influence on Bradford's LAM No 2/82, which was issuedlater the sameyear. Otherconcessions sought by Muslims to help their children to retain their religiousidentity includedthe provision of halal meatin schools,which is discussedbelow, and making the holy days of Eid ul-Fitr and Eid ul-Adha official holidays for Muslim schoolchildren. More recently, some Muslim groups have

objected to the government!s inclusion of music, art and drama in the national curriculum, for theseactivities are in dangerof violating the teachingsof Islam, and

someMuslim parentswould wish to withdraw their children from suchclasses.

The development of multi-cultural education was the response of Bradford Council to thesedemands. The multi-cultural policies fall into two categories: those

which grantmulti-cultural concessions to the minority groups,so that schoolsare never in a position to requirepupils to act in a way that is contrary to their (or their parents')

religious and cultural beliefs; and those involving the treatmentof all religious and

cultureswith equalrespect, so that a positive image of eachis presentedto all pupils in the city's schools. The first of theseobjectives was detailed in Bradford's LAM No

2/82, which is discussedin ChapterTwo: this documentis partly prescriptive(children

were to be allowed to cover their bodiesas they chosefor swimming, PE and showers and to wear traditional dressinstead of schooluniform) and partly advisory (teachers were to exercisetact and discretion in sensitive areassuch as health education and lotteriesand raffles). The secondobjective was reflectedin the decision to include the

variety of faiths in the city in the new RE syllabuspublished in 1974under the title 'A

Guide to Religious Educationin a Multi-faith Community'; this was revised again in

1983. For once, a pragmatic responseto the presenceof adherentsof a variety of world religions in the city went hand in hand with new theoretical approachesto the teachingof Religious Educationthat had been developing since the-late 1969s. An Centrefor Inter-faith Education RE teachersand others, catering for the five main faiths

261 AppendixOne in the city, wasopened in 1986. Other attemptsto treat the major world religions with parity of esteeminclude the granting of permission for Muslim, 11induand Sikh children to be absentfrom schoolon religious festivals suchas Eid ul-Fitr and Diwali, and experimentalproposals for worship in schools(CBMC, 1986a,1986b).

The multi-culturalpolicies were actively disseminated by the LEA advisersand the local T.F. DaviesTeachers' Centre, and headteacherswere encouragedto organisein- schoolstaff developmentto ensurethat the policies were actually implementedas far as possible.The caseof Wyke Manor Upper Schoolprovides a well-documentedexample of the responseof one particular school to Bradford!s multi-cultural policies and guidelines;after an intensiveperiod of discussionin working parties,faculty meetings and whole staff meetingswith outside speakersand LEA advisers,school statements were drawn up on multi-culturalism as well as on anti-racism and prejudice, and the supportof parentsand governorswas actively sought(Duncan, 1985a,1985b; Lynch, 1986,pp 82,152).

The Council's policies soughtto tread a middle path betweentrapping minority children within a restricting culture on the one hand and culturally uprooting and disorientingthem on the other-,at the sametime they soughtto inculcatein all childrena respectfor a variety of cultures and an appreciationof multi-cultural educationas an enrichingexperience. However, they havebeen criticised for attemptingto presenttoo many faiths and culturesto children, in too diluted a fashion, and not helping children to discriminate between them; for emphasising community differences and thus

underlining their separateness;and for not stressingthe need to master the dominant cultureif oneis to thrive economicallyand politically in society.

262 AppendixOne

(4) The Cessation of the Policy of Dispersal

The policy of dispersingMuslim and other ethnic minority pupils throughoutthe city's schools(commonly known as 'bussing')was introduced in 1964 in accordance with DES guidelines. The policy had two aims. The first was to assistthe language developmentand general integration of minority children in the city by ensuringthat no schools,even in areasof the city where the ethnic minorities were concentrated,had a majority of suchchildren; the original limit of 10 per cent of immigrantsin a schoolwas quickly raisedto 25 per cent, and raisedagain in 1969 to 33 per cent. The secondwas to ensurethat all indigenouschildren had somecontact with the ethnic minorities; as Bradford'sassistant education officer, P Bendall, explainedin 1972:'If we can give as many English children as possiblethe chanceof growing up in school with immigrant class-mates,then thereis a good chancethey will learn to live in harmonywith them, and carry on doing so after their schooldays.Another of the city's educationofficers, by Troyna Williams (1986), it bluntly: 'dispersal is quoted and put more ... quite simply a systemof socialengineering' (p 18).

This policy wasnever popular with parents. Indigenousparents objected strongly if they found their own children refused a place at a local school to make room for ethnic minority children coming from a distance, and minority group parents were inconveniencedwhen it came to attending parents' evenings and other activities. Minority pupils were deprivedof the benefitsof a neighbourhoodschool, and most of the minority group parentshoped that their own children would not be chosen for 'bussing';about 15 per centof ethnic minority children actually were chosen.

Political oppositionto the policy developedinitially from the far right and the far

left. The former objectedto any degreeof encouragementof racial mixing in schools,

the latter to the manifestracial discriminationin the way dispersalwas carriedout; only from being children ethnic minorities were 'bussed'and this was seenas an exampleof

263 AppendixOne what Hill and Issacharoff (1971, p 51) called the 'highly unequal interracial accommodation!which was operatedin Bradford. The latter objection only madeslow headway,however, for two reasons. First, to challengeintentional racial mixing as discriminatoryseemed to be in direct conflict with the Americanexperience of 'bussing'

(where it was intentional racial segregation which was attacked as discriminatory). Secondly,to call for white children to be 'bussed into inner-city schoolswhich were already bursting at the seamswould appearperverse; 'bussing! was at least in part a reponseto overcrowdingand a way of giving ethnic minority children the benefit of smallerclasses. In the event,it was a complaint by a memberof the National Front to the Race Relations Board which led to an investigation of Bradford's policy of dispersal,though somewhat ironically the complaint was expressedin terms of which most ethnic minority parents would have approved: 'bussing' was wasting their children!s time and denying them the benefitsof a neighbourhoodschool (Kirp, 1979, p 96). ProfessorHawkins of the University of York was appointed by the Race RelationsBoard to examinewhether Bradford! s policy of dispersalcould bejustified in terms of languageneeds rather than of race. As a result of his report, a few minor modificationswere made to the policy.

Council supportfor the policy remainedstrong, however, long after it had been phasedout in other partsof the country. Indeedthe Labour whip was withdrawn from Councillor Rhodesin 1976for opposingit. In 1978 Councillor Hussainclaimed that the 'tremendoussocial, cultural and educationalbenefits' of the dispersal policy far outweighedthe difficulties it causedfor ethnic minority families. He also warnedthat abandoningthe policy would lead to 'segregationand eventuallyto ghetto schools'and that a massiveschool-building programme in the inner city would be required. Both of these prophecieshave since come true. Opposition to the policy gradually gained momentum,however, in the late 1970s. Councillors Ajeeb and Hameedcalled the it policy racialistand considered an affront to the freedomand dignity of ethnic minority parents. A petition rejecting 'bussing', with a thousand signatures from teachers,

264 AppendixOne parentsand others,was presentedto the Council in early 1979. 'Me last straw came when the Commissionfor RacialEquality decidedto reactivateits investigationinto the legality of 'bussing',and at the end of 1979 the Council decided to phasethe policy out.

Undoubtedly economic factors were a major consideration in the retention of 'bussing'in Bradford for so long. Even when the 33 per cent limit on the number of ethnic minority children in a school had been abandonedas impractical in the mid- 1970s,'bussing' continued, because there was simply not enough spacein the inner- city schoolsfor the expandingpopulation, while therewas plenty in suburbanschools. The political decisionto permit all children to attendneighbourhood schools, however, meant that by 1984 there were nineteenschools in the city with over 70 per cent of ethnic minority children,and led to a major new building programmeof additionalfirst and middle schoolsin the inner city. The effect of the decisionto abandonbussing'on the educationalachievement of the children concerned,and on race relationsgenerally, is difficult to assessbecause of the many other complicating factors, but it seems unlikely that cross-culturalunderstanding in the city hasbeen improved by the growth of 'ghetto schools'.

(5) The Provision of Mother-tongue Teaching

The speciallanguage needs of pupils of Asian origin arenot difficult to see. From an early age they are likely to communicatewith their parentsand elders in Punjabi, Urdu, Gujerati, Bengali or Pushtu;with someof their peersand in all of the contacts

with the wider communitythey speakEnglish; and,in the caseof Muslim children,they

use Arabic for religious purposes. Since the 1960s mosque schools and other supplementaryschools have catered for theseneeds by providing tuition in Arabic and a numberof mother-tongues;and, as we have seen,such schools have received financial

265 AppendixOne support from the Council. However, demandshave not been widespreadfrom the minority communitiesfor mother-tongueteaching in Local Authority schools,though there have been some (for example, from the Hindu Society in 1984); parentshave tendedto give higherpriority to an adequatelevel of attainmentin English. It hasbeen left to the Council to do most of the running in working out children's needsin this area.

Over the last twenty years Bradford Council has tended to place rather less emphasisin its languagepolicies on giving specialhelp with English to ethnic minority pupils, and rather more emphasison the positive use of minority languagesin schools and in official publications. In the 1960's,three Immigrant LanguageCentres (later simply called LanguageCentres) were setup in Bradfordto ensurethat all childrenhad a minimum level of proficiency in English beforebeing transferredto Local Authority schools(Verma, 1986,p 52). 'Mis was consideredan efficient useof resourcesby the

Council, particularly in the days of 'bussing'; otherwise every school would have neededan EM specialist. Doubts developed,however, as to whether such separate provision was really in the best interestsof the children concerned. The Language

Centreswere finally closed in September1986, with their pupils being cateredfor henceforthwithin existing schools.

Mother-tongue teaching has taken two forms in Bradford. First, minority languages,especially Urdu, have been introduced as options alongside French and

Germanin the modem languagedepartments of an increasingnumber of middle and upper schools. The mother-tongue teaching survey carried out in Bradford and elsewhereas part of the Linguistic Minorities Project reported a total of 183 ethnic minority languageclasses in the city's schools(Linguistic Minorities Project, 1983). Secondly, therehave been experiments in the useof the mother-tongueof Asian pupils as a medium of instruction alongsideEnglish for the first two years of their school career. The first was a project sponsoredby the EEC, which ran from 1976 to 1980,

266 AppendixOne and the second,the Mother Tongue and English Teachingfor Young Asian Children Project(MOTEI) was fundedby the DES from 1979to 1981and carriedout jointly by the University of Bradford, Bradford College and the Council's Directorate of

Education(Rees and Fitzpatrick, 1981). Its findings providedinconclusive evidence as to the value of such teaching, except perhaps as a meansof boosting motivation, confidenceand cultural identity, but the practicehas beencontinued in Bradford on a small scale. Undoubtedlythe biggestobstacle to the further developmentof both forms of mother-tongueteaching is the shortageof suitably qualified teachers.Both forms of provision have been criticised, however, for their cost and becauseit is not clear whetherthey actuallyare educationally beneficial for the pupils.

(6) Permission for Extended Trips to the Indian Sub-continent

This was not an issuein the minds of Asian parentsuntil the local authority took stepsin 1981to restrict suchtrips. The restrictionswere proposedbecause of concern that the educationof Asian children was being damagedby trips abroadof anything from two months' duration to a year or more, and because,when there was so much pressureon inner-city school places,it was difficult to keep placesopen for children who had gone abroad indefinitely. The Council's Multi-Cultural Review Body thereforeproposed that headsshould be allowed to removepupils from schoolregisters and allocatetheir placesto other children if they were absentfor more than six weeks during term-time - an absenceconsiderably longer than the two weeks allowed for in the 1959Education Act.

At a public meeting held at Drummond Middle School to discussthe proposed rule (a meetinglater describedby Honeyford, 1984),there were strongobjections from

Asian parents.They askedthe Council to exercisegreater flexibility in their approachto the problem, and pointed to the educationaland cultural benefits that their children

267 AppendixOne might receivefrom suchtrips. The proposalswere quietly dropped,but the issuewas re-openedby Honeyfordtwo-and-a-half years later (1983c),when he claimedthat there appearedto be one setof rules for Asian children and anotherfor the rest.

(7) The Development of Anti-racist Policies in Education

Anti-racism is, of course,a very broad concept,and if taken to include what is now sometimescalled 'cultural racisnY(cf Seidel, 1986, p 129; Ashrif and Yaseen, 1987,p 123; Gilroy, 1987,p 61), it encompassesall the demandslisted so far. For example, Councillor Hameed'sdismissal of the dispersal policy as 'racialise has already been noted. In the present section, I intend to concentrateon two specific demandsassociated with the developmentof anti-racist policies in education: the clampingdown on overt racist behaviourinvolving or affecting schoolchildren,and the elimination of factors contributing to unintentional and institutionalised racism in schools. Overt racist behaviourcovers everything from the 'unfriendliness,rudeness or indifference'which the Azad Kashmir Muslim Associationsaid in 1982was rife in

Brafford (Yorkshire E=, 30 April 1982),to the graffiti, name-calling,racial bullying and gang fights in schoolswhich are reportedwith increasingfrequency in the local press (though the Revolutionary Communist party has claimed that a conspiracyof silenceexists between the police, the pressand the Council to concealthe real extentof racist attacks). I

Racistattacks on Muslims increasedin 1986after the Honeyfordaffair, and again in 1989 in the wake of Muslim protests against Salman Rushdie. In March 1986,

leadersof the Asian Youth Movementcalled for an official investigationinto fighting

outsideBelle Vue Boys' Schoolwhich led to the arrestof five pupils; the situation was

seriousenough for pupils at nearby first and middle schoolsto be sent home early to avoid getting caught up in the clashes. Sporadicactivity in schoolsby the National

268 AppendixOne

Front and other far-right groupshas invariably increasedtension; trouble flared up at Eccleshill Upper School following distribution of the British Nationalist, and some

Asian pupils were reported to be 'too scaredto return to school' (Hamilton, 1984). From time to time allegationsare madeof racism amongBradford teachers,especially sincethe announcementthat a former Bradford head,Stanley Garnett, had joined the British National Party in 1983. Claims of racism among the staff at Wyke Manor

Upper Schooldirected against its black headteacherwere madeby a supply teacherin the News of the World; althoughthe teacherwho madethe allegationswas suspended and the allegationswere officially denied, 300 pupils at the school went on strike in 1984 to demand the dismissal of a 'racist' teacher. Marches against racism have becomecommonplace in Bradford, though educationis of courseonly one of many areascovered by suchanti-racist protests.

Although activities like marchesinevitably attract more media attention, other protests against less obvious forms of racism, such as the negative patronizing or stereotypedviews of some races in school books and the sometimesunintentional racism of 'colour-blindness'(i. e. the denial of significant differencesbetween ethnic groups),continue to be madeby someminority groupsin Bradford. In 1983Raminder

Singh,the Chairmanof Bradford!s CommunityRelations Council, drew attentionto the problem of racist school books, and in their publication entitled Reading, Riting, Rithmetic, Racein 1984,the Asian Youth Movement attackedcomplacency on racial issuesamong teachers and administratorsand called for an anti-racisteducation centre to be setup in Brafford. Shepherd(1987) highlights the low expectationsthat teachers had of their Asian pupils at one of Bradford!s inner-city middle schools.

The Council has soughtto respondto both setsof demands.In an initial policy statementdistributed to all its employeesin 1981,the Council outlined a new twelve- point plan on racerelations. This includedcommitment to a policyto encourageequal opportunities, to reduce racial disadvantageand to root out once and for all racial

269 AppendixOne discrimination'. The RaceRelations Advisory Group was set up the sameyear to help otherCouncil departments on racial issues,and the Councilwas alreadytalking in terms of 'the vetting of books, materials and curricula to ensurethat stereotypedimages or prejudices are avoided! (CBMC Digest, 1981, p 23). In 1983, the local authority attemptedto standardiseprocedures in schoolson the challenging and correcting of racistbehaviour. A Local AdminsistrativeMemorandum (LAM Mo 6/83)entitled Racist Behaviourin Schooll was circulatedto heads,giving guidelinesand rules basedon the earlierpolicy statement,and requiring them to identify anddeal firmly andconsistently with racist incidentsin their schools,and to report them regularly to the local authority. 'Me LAM emphasisedthe need:

1. to dealwith the allegedperpetrators of the racialistbehaviour,

2. to aid andsupport the victim;

3. to lay down firm lines of responsibilityfor dealingwith incidents;

4. to deal with the impactof the incidenton the whole community.

Eachschool was askedto preparea detailedstatement of its own policy againstracialist behaviour,based on the generalprinciples setout by the local authority. Thesegeneral principles includedthe immediateremoval of racialist graffid or slogansfrom booksor

walls; the immediateconfiscation of racialistlitem ture, badges or insignia;reporting any

activitiesof extremepolitical groupsinciting racial hatredwithin the schoolto the police

and the Directorate of Education; informing the parents of pupils responsible for

racialistbehaviour and involving them in any disciplinaryprocedures; and informing the

victims of suchbehaviour of the actiontaken against it.

270 AppendixOne

At the sametime as attemptingto deal with examplesof overt racism, however, the Council has also taken some steps to eradicate its underlying causesand less obvious manifestations. The decision to keep ethnic records, made in 1981, representeda clear rejection of the 'colour-blind approachfavoured by someteachers and an attempt to facilitate the monitoring of discrin-dnationresulting from ethnic diversity. The campaignagainst institutional racism can be seenin the abolition of separateLanguage Centres in 1986, the drive since 1983 to appoint more ethnic minority governors,the encouragementof schoolsand libraries to examinecritically the image of minority communitiespresented in the books they use, and, perhapsmost controversially, the Racism AwarenessTraining courseswhich all headsand others involved in recruitment were required to attend. Though these courses were discontinuedin 1986,their activities were incorporatedinto the regular training and in- servicecourses run by the local authority.

Perhapsthe most important thing to emergefrom the Council's actions so far is the greatneed for tact and sensitivityin bringing racial issuesinto consciousnessand in

attemptingto correctmisunderstandings and to changeingrained attitudes about race. It may be arguedthat if an anti-racistpolicy is perceivedas a threat,as Bradford!s was by many headteachers(cf Halstead, 1988, p 29-30), it is almost certain to be counter- productive,and the bestsolution then is to approachthe problemfrom a different angle. This appearsto be the thinking behind the abandonmentof the Racism Awareness

Training courses,but suchtact and sensitivity was not always evident in the Council's handlingof the Honeyford affair.

(8) The Establishment of Muslim Voluntary-aided Schools

In January1983 the Muslim Parents'Association submitted a requestto Bradford

Council for permission to take over two first schools, two middle schools and one

271 AppendixOne upper schoolas Muslim voluntary-aidedschools. Among the schoolsconcerned were Honeyfords school, Drummond Middle, and Belle Vue Girls' Upper School. The main reasonsfor the requestwere to provide a basefor the preservation,maintenance and transmissionof the Islamic way of life, to enableMuslim children to have a high level of generaleducation while observingthe laws of Islam, to protect children from Westernisation,secularisation and un-Islamic practicesby providing schoolswith an

Islamic ethos, and to ensurethat the children were not taught by teacherswho had themselvesrejected religion. Admission would not be restricted to Muslim children, however. The requestwas justified in termsof rights grantedunder the 1944Education

Act, and was seenas a call for parity of treatmentwith other minority religious groups in the UK, such as Catholics and Jews, who already have voluntary-aided schools.

Severalrespected figures in the British Muslim community visited Bradford to express

supportfor the request,including Yusuf Islam (the former pop star, Cat Stevens). In

Bradford, however,opinion within the Muslim community was divided over the value

of such schools. The Council for Mosquesvoted 13-8 againstthe proposal,and both

the CommunityRelations Council and the Asian Youth Movementstrongly opposed it.

The latter warnedof the dangersof 'voluntary apartheid and the possibility of a'racist

backlash',and saw the way aheadas dependingnot on religious schoolsat all but on a

greateropenness within a commoneducational system to ethnic minority needsand a greatercommitment to anti-racisteducation. It wasreported that only forty-eight of the pupils at Belle Vue Girls' School supportedthe MPA's request. Outside the Muslim

community, however, the requestwas universally opposed. The staff at Belle Vue

Girls' School were unanimousin threateningresignation, and one parent-governorat Drummond Middle school collected7,000 signaturesagainst Muslim voluntary-aided

schools. The local newspaperran severalarticles opposing the scheme,but none in

favour. Bradfords EducationalServices Committee voted unanimouslyin September

1983 to reject the MPA's request. The official reasonsprovided for the refusal are interesting: no mention is madeof the dangersof religious segregation,or indeed of any of the points madeby the Asian Youth Movement; it was merely claimed that the

272 AppendixOne proposallacked the supportof a sufficiently broad sectionof the Muslims in Bradford, and that therewere neither sufficient financial resourcesnor the necessaryeducational and administrative experiencewithin the MPA to carry the project through. This avoidanceof a principled standagainst Muslim voluntary-aidedschools, although many councillors clearly felt that such schools would contravenethe whole spirit of the Council's multi-cultural policies (which were directed towards meeting the needsof ethnic minority children within the framework of a common school curriculum), perhapsillustrates the pragmatic and conciliatory nature of the Council's responseto Muslim demands. But the Councirs responseappears to leave the door open for a

reapplication at a later date. Indeed, someMuslim groups have tendedto wield the

threat of such schoolsas an instrument of persuasionwhen they meet opposition to

their demands(as in the call for Honeyford'sdismissal). For many people,it appears

that the call for the establishmentof Muslim voluntary-aidedschools marks the limit of

what canbe toleratedin a multi-cultural society,and it is the only seriousrequest from a minority group in Bradford so far to meetwith an outright refusal. 'Mere is little doubt that this fact influenced the local authority's determination to demonstrate its

fairbandednessby pressingahead with the multi-cultural policies suchas the provision of halal meatin schools.

The call for suchschools raises a numberof significant questionsabout the aims of education,which I have discussedin more detail elsewhere(Halstead, 1986). It

forms part of the larger debatewhich hasbeen carried on intermittently in the last three

yearsin the correspondencecolumns of ne Guardian,ne Independentand The Times

EducationSupplement regarding the dual systemof educationand the justifiability of

separatedenominational schools. Interviewedon the BBC programmene Heart of the

Matter on 13th September1987, Honeyford expressedprovisional support for the

establishmentof Muslim voluntary-aided schools. Early in 1988, it was first

reportedthat the Labour Party leadershipwas dropping its opposition to such schools (Straw, 1989), partly no doubt in responseto rumours that someMuslim leaderswere

273 AppendixOne urging schools with a Muslim majority to consider opting out of LEA control, as permitted by the 1988 Education Act. The Labour-dominated Association of

Metropolitan Authorities, on the other hand, remains staunchlyopposed to Muslim voluntary-aidedschools.

(9) The Provision of Halal Meat in Schools

Halal meat is meat which has beenslaughtered in accordancewith Islamic law. The animalmust be consciousat the time of slaughter,and the nameof Allah is invoked as the animal'sthroat is slit. Meat killed in any other manneris haram (forbidden) to

Muslims, and this is generally taken to include meat from animals which have been stunnedbefore slaughterin accordancewith the 1933 and 1974 SlaughterhouseActs.

TheseActs, do, however,empower local authoritiesto allow both Jewishand Muslim methodsof slaughter,and Bradford has for many yearshad a halal slaughterhouseto servethe needsof Muslim butchersin the city. But prior to 1983 no hatal meat was servedin public institutions such as schoolsand hospitals where people of different faiths and culturesintermingle. In practicethis meantthat many non-vegetarianMuslim schoolchildrenin Bradford schools,as elsewhere,were eatingonly vegetariandishes in order to avoid contraveningIslamic law. During the 1970sand early 1980s,demands intensifiedfrom Muslims for an acceptablemeat dish to be providedfor their childrenin schools.

In September 1983 the local authority began a pilot scheme involving the provision of halal meat in ten schools. Within a year this had beenextended to nearly sixty schools,and the eventual intention was to servehalat meals in all schoolswith Muslim more than ten diners. The policy met immediate and vociferous opposition, however,from local animal rights campaigners,and this opposition,highlighted by the refusal of one campaignerto pay her rates,received much attention in the local and

274 AppendUOne

national press. Undoubtedlythe issue also becamea focal point for racial prejudice. The Muslims, worried that the concessionthey had won might be slipping away from

them, beganto make their feelings known more forcibly; an estimated3,000 Muslims joined a pro-halal demonstration,and a 7,000-signaturepetition was handedin a City Hall. In March 1984the full Council debatedwhether to continuethe provision of halal meat in view of the protestsagainst it. In spite of the opposition of someprominent Labour councillors,including the Lord Mayor, NormanFree, continuation of the policy

was supportedby fifty-nine votesto fifteen. Halat meatnow seemsto be establishedas one of the most permanentand secureprovisions for Muslim childrenin the city.

(10) The Removal of Honeyford from the Headship of Drummond Middle School

Following the publication of Ray Honeyford's article 'Educationand Race - an alternativeview' in ne Salisb= Review early in 1984, a protractedcampaign was launchedagainst him calling for his dismissalfrom the headshipof DrummondMiddle

School in Bradford, a post he had held since 1980. The affair becamean educational

causecelebre in the U.K. It receivedextensive media coverage and had political, legal, social and administrative repercussionsboth locally and nationally (Brown, 1985; Foster-Carter,1987; Greenhalf, 1985; Halstead, 1988; Jack, 1985; Matthews, 1986; Murphy, 1987; Selbourne,1987).

11is was not the first article Honeyford had written about issuesof race, multi-

culturalism and the educationof ethnic minority children. Indeed, since 1982he had

beenarguing in the columnsof Tlie Times EducationalSupplement and elsewherethat

multi-cultural educationis misguidedand that the main needof ethnic minority children is British to master culture and becomefull British citizens. The tone of his articles became gradually more strident,however, and they were sometimesfar from positivein

275 AppendixOne their depiction of Muslim and West Indian culture and local authority policy. Not surprisingly, he was criticised by ethnic minority groups and cautionedby the LEA.

His article in The Salisbu1yReview early in 1984 takeshis argumentsagainst multi- cultural educationfurther. First, he claims that freedomof speechis becoming'difficult to maintain', becausethe feelings of guilt induced by the 'race lobby' and the fear of

giving offence are preventing 'decent people' from writing their thoughts honestly.

Secondly,he expressesmuch strongercriticisms of someaspects of minority cultures than he did in earlier articles. The 'vast majority' of West Indian homesare described as lacking in educationalambition; a disproportionatenumber are Tatherless;and the West Indian is describedas someonewho creates'anear-splitting cacophony for most

of the night to the detriment of his neighbours sanity'. He criticises the 'purdah

mentality' of someMuslim parentsand describesPakistan, the country of origin for most of BmdforXs Muslim families, as'obstinatelybackward!, plagued by'corruption at every level', and the 'heroin capital of the world'. Finally, he touches on the

educationaldisadvantage suffered by the white children who now form a minority

groupin manyinner-city schools;they areinevitably not so well initiated into their own

languageand culture as their parentswere, and their plight is likely to becomemore

serioussince they lack a spokesmanor pressuregroup to articulate their anxieties. It

was this article which triggered off what has since becomeknown as 'the Honeyford

affair'. As soonas the article cameto the attentionof Bradford Council and the wider public (sometwo monthsafter its initial publication),it drew a barrageof criticism from

many quarters,and set in motion the chain of events,including seriousdisruption at DrummondMiddle School,which eventuallyled to Honeyford!s early retirement.

The affair itself, however, was one of enormous complexity, and it raises

fundamentalquestions not only aboutmulti-cultural educationand anti-racism,but also free about speech,the accountabilityof teachersand the control of education. Certainly Honeyford had succeededin alienating both the LEA and the mainly Muslim local his community that schoolserved, but this doesnot meanthat both partiesco-operated

276 AppendUOne freely in seeking his departure from the school. On the contrary, the Drummond Parents'Action Committee(the first main pressuregroup campaigning for Honeyfords dismissal)saw itself in conflict with the LEA, which it accusedof not implementingits race relations policies, while the LEA warnedparents of possiblelegal action if they kept their children away from school. A significant number of Muslim groups, including the influential Council for Mosques,were active in the campaign against Honeyford,but not all the Muslims in the local communityopposed him; in fact, two of the threepro-Honeyford community representativeswho were co-optedonto the new governing body of his school in October 1985 were Muslims. The DPAC alienated another potential ally, the NUT, which consistently expressed opposition to

Honeyford's views, by accusing Drummond Middle School teachers of unprofessionallythreatening to punish children who attendedthe DPACs alternative school;the NUT threatenedlegal actionagainst the DPAC for this allegation.

Honeyfoids own union, the NAHT, championedhim throughoutthe affair. The school governorsalso supportedhim throughout, though sometimesonly by narrow marginsand on one crucial occasiononly as a result of a tactical error on the part of his opponents: a resolution calling for Honeyford's reinstatement after he had been suspendedin April 1985was passedby sevenvotes to four after four anti-Honeyford governorshad chosento boycott the meeting. Honeyford was frequently depictedas a racist; however,the NAHT took out a writ on his behalf againstBradford Council for

alleged libel by seven racism awarenesstraining officers who described him in a memorandumas a'known racise and refused to accepthim on one of their courses,

and his final early retirement packageincluded a sum of E5,000 in settlementof the allegedlibel. It was ironical to find that anti-racistprotestors who by October 1985had

becomea permanentfeature of life at DrummondMiddle School were madeup of two distinct and physically separategroups - the white left-wingers on the one hand and the Asianson the other - while the children in the playgroundon the other side of the wall appearedto be completelyintegrated. Although nationally the debateabout Honeyford

tended to follow party political lines, with Conservativeslike Sir Marcus Fox and

277 AppendixOne

NicholasWinterton speakingout in supportof him in Parliamentand Labour MPs such as Max Madden speakingagainst him, at a local level the decisions,at least at first, were less clearly along party lines. In March 1984,the Conservativechairman of the EducationalServices Committee was one of Honeyford!s most outspokencritics, while his supportersincluded the Labour Lord Mayor. All threelocal political partiesin the hung Council changedtheir position in the courseof the affair on giving Honeyford a financialincentive to takeearly retirement.

On top of thesecomplexities are the tremendousemotions that were arousedon both sidesof the debateand the distortions and misleading innuendoesthat occurred with increasingfrequency in reports of the affair both locally and nationally. On the one hand, demonstrators portrayed Honeyford as a devil on banners inscribed 'Honeyford writes in the blood of the blacks'. On the other hand, he was describedin a letter to the local Telegraph and ArgUs as 'a sacrificial lamb on the altar of race relations'(27th March 1985)and evencompared to Christ. The popularpress tended to depict the affair as a conflict betweena 'decentchap' (News of the World, 31st March

1985),who'dared to speakhis mind! (Daily Mi 9th April 1985) and the Thought

Police who have bludgeonedMr Honeyford into submission' Daily-ExRress. 30th

March 1985). Honeyford'sopponents had their own forms of distortion, however, a leaflet in Urdu purporting to be a translationof Honeyford's Salisbuil Review article

converted his statementabout 'fatherless' West Indian families into a dismissal of Asiansas'illegidmate!. Somecommentaries that havebeen written sincethe end of the affair have been even more fanciful in their distortions. West (1987), for example,

somewhatsarcastically comments that Honeyford lost his job 'apparentlyfor the crime

of wanting to teachEnglish children their own language,history and religion.

On the other side,Gordon and Klug arguethat

the superiority of white (middle-class) culture is implicit throughout the

278 AppendixOne

writings of Ray Honeyford. (1986, p 23)

In fact Honeyford seemsto have been much more in touch with many working class peoplethan were the leadersof the campaignagainst him, who often turned out to be from liberalA-adicalmiddle classbackgrounds themselves.

I haveattempted elsewhere (Halstead, 1988) to pick my way throughthe bias and distortion in order to establishas fully and as objectively as possible what actually happenedin the affair. A brief outline of the main incidentsin the affair is perhapsall that is neededhere. After the initial wave of protestsand demandsfor Honeyford's dismissal in March to May 1984, the LEA decided to carry out a full inspection of

DrummondMiddle School. The aim was to checkthat LEA policies,particularly those relating to multi-cultural education, were in fact being carried out. The advisers reportedthat LEA policies were generallybeing carriedout at the school,but spokeof the needfor Honeyfordto'regain the trust and confidenceof a significantproportion of parents!.At a meetingof the Schools(Education) Sub-Comn-dttee in October,called to

consider the report, a motion of no-confidencein Honeyford was defeated.He was

given six months to prepare six reports on aspects of the school's provision, particularlyrelating to links with parentsand the local community. The aim appearedto be to give him a chance to reconsider his attitude to multi-cultural education. Meanwhile,the DrummondParents Action Committeekept up its pressureon the LEA

to dismiss Honeyford, organising238 parentsto requestthe transfer of their children

away from DrummondMiddle School,and then organisingan alternativeschool in the

PakistanCommunity Centre for children to attend when they were kept away from

Honeyford's School. When the Schools (Education) Sub-Committee met again in March 1985 to consider Honeyford's reports, a vote of no-confidence in him was few passed,and a days later Honeyford was suspendedby the LEA pending a special hearingof the caseagainst him by the schoolgovernors.

279 AppendUOne

The affair becamea national issue at this stage,with debatesin Parliamentand with frequent reports in the national press, almost all of which tended to side with Honeyford. Ilie affair cameincreasingly to be depictedas a free speechissue. Various attemptswere made to produce a pay-off deal for Honeyford. In June 1985, after a four-dayhearing, the schoolgovernors decided that allegationsagainst Honeyford were

'not fully substantiated'and they recommendedhis reinstatement. Ile question of whetherthe governors'decision was legally binding on the LEA was takento the High Court, and when the Court found in favour of the governors,Honeyford returned to his job at the school in September1985. His opponentswere horrified at the direction eventshad taken,and launcheda new campaignof picketing, strikesand protests. For two weeks, only about a third of the children attendedhis school. The Council for Mosquescalled on all Muslim children in Bradford (over 16,000)to boycott schoolfor

one day in protest against Honeyford. Local interest focussedstrongly on the new

governingbody that was to be set up for DrummondMiddle School in October 1985, and when it emergedthat Honeyford had the support of a clear majority of the new

governors,his position seemedmore secure. The next month, however, the tables

were turnedwhen the Appeal Court reversedthe earlier decisionof the High Court and ruled that the LEA still had the right to dismiss a head even if the governorsdid not agree. Meanwhile,community relations in the city were deterioratingrapidly as a result

of the Honeyford affair and both Honeyford and his opponentsbecame the targetsof deaththreats. Honeyfordeventually accepted an early retirementpackage in December 1985.

Ile Honeyfordaffair had seriousrepercussions on the local political sceneand on

race relations in Bradford. Although his departurebecame inevitable, in one senseit

was a defeatnot only for his supportersbut for thoseoccupying the middle groundwho

believedthat behind the stereotypesof Honeyford as martyr or devil lay seriousissues

which could only be resolved in open, rational debate. It was a defeat becausethe

280 AppendixOne debatehad beenforeclosed. Perhapsthe insensitivity and injudiciousnessof his own contributionsto the debatewere partly to blame for this outcome,although he himself had written of the need to 'create a more honest, a more open and a less fearful intellectual climate' (1984) in which issues such as multi-culturalism, anti-racist education,tolerance, cultural continuity and the basisof sharedvalues in our society could be discussed.But the stridenttone of his articleswas matchedby that of the calls for his dismissal,and neitherthey nor the mannerof his eventualdeparture did anything to bring reasoneddiscourse to bearon the debateor to facilitate discussionof the issues raisedby his articlesand by the campaignagainst him.

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