Rethinking Madrasah Education in a Globalised World 1138739235, 9781138739239

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Rethinking Madrasah Education in a Globalised World

Why is there a need to rethink madrasah education? What is the positioning of Muslims in contemporary society, and how are they prepared? What is the role of the ulama in the reform process? This book explores these questions from the perspective of madrasah education and analyses curricular and pedagogic innovations in Islamic faith-based education in response to the changing place of Islam in a globalised world. It argues for the need for madrasahs to reconceptualise education for Muslim children. Specifically, it explores the problems and challenges that come with new knowledge, biotechnological advancement and societal transformation facing Muslims, and identifies the processes towards reformation that impinge on the philosophies (both Western and Islamic), religious traditions and spirituality, learning principles, curriculum and pedagogy. This book offers glimpses into the reform process at work through contemporary examples in selected countries. Mukhlis Abu Bakar is Associate Professor at the Asian Languages and Cultures Academic Group, National Institute of Education, Nanyang Technological University, Singapore.

Routledge Critical Studies in Asian Education Series Editors: S. Gopinathan, Wing On Lee and Jason Eng Thye Tan For the whole list please visit: www.routledge.com/Routledge-Critical-Studiesin-Asian-Education/book-series/RCSAE

Languages in the Malaysian Education System Monolingual strands in multilingual settings Edited by Asmah Haji Omar Policy Discourses in Malaysian Education A nation in the making Edited by Suseela Malakolunthu and Nagappan C. Rengasamy Making Sense of Education in Post-Handover Hong Kong Achievements and challenges Edited by Thomas Kwan-Choi Tse and Michael H. Lee English Education at the Tertiary Level in Asia From Policy to Practice Edited by Eun Sung Park and Bernard Spolsky English-Medium Instruction in Chinese Universities Perspectives, Discourse and Evaluation Edited by Jing Zhao and L. Quentin Dixon Rethinking Madrasah Education in a Globalised World Edited by Mukhlis Abu Bakar Policies and politics in Malaysian education Education reforms, nationalism and neoliberalism Edited by Cynthia Joseph The Sustainability of Higher Education in an Era of Post-Massification Edited by Deane E. Neubauer, Ka Ho Mok and Jin Jiang Emigration, Employability and Higher Education in the Philippines Yasmin Y. Ortiga

Rethinking Madrasah Education in a Globalised World Edited by Mukhlis Abu Bakar

First published 2018 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2018 selection and editorial matter, Mukhlis Abu Bakar; individual chapters, the contributors The right of Mukhlis Abu Bakar to be identified as the author of the editorial material, and of the authors for their individual chapters, has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data A catalog record for this book has been requested ISBN: 978-1-138-73923-9 (hbk) ISBN: 978-1-315-18423-4 (ebk) Typeset in Galliard by Apex CoVantage, LLC

Contents

Acknowledgementsviii List of contributorsix Reviewersxiv Introduction

1

MUKHLIS ABU BAKAR

PART I

Social, political and cultural contexts15   1 Challenges to madrasah education in contemporary Muslim societies

17

NOOR AISHA ABDUL RAHMAN

  2 State, community and madrasah reform in India

36

ARSHAD ALAM

  3 Resistance to reform? Pakistani madaris in historical and political perspective

49

CHRISTOPHER CANDLAND

  4 Modernising madrasah education: the Singapore ‘national’ and the global

65

S. GOPINATHAN

  5 Muslim schools in Britain: between mobilisation and incorporation NASAR MEER AND DAMIAN BREEN

76

vi  Contents PART II

Curriculum and pedagogy103   6 Reconceptualising madrasah education: towards a radicalised imaginary

105

YUSEF WAGHID

 7 Developing Shakhsiyah Islamiyah: personalised character education for British Muslims

118

FARAH AHMED AND TAHREEM SABIR

  8 Integrating an Islamic Studies curriculum in both religious and secular classrooms in an American school

135

HABEEB QUADRI

  9 Integrated and holistic madrasah education curriculum: the Singapore madrasah model

152

FARAH MAHAMOOD ALJUNIED AND ALBAKRI AHMAD

10 The Islamic Studies education curriculum of Malaysian national schools: a study of its philosophy and content

174

ROSNANI HASHIM

PART III

Issues in educational reforms193 11 Policy borrowing in madrasah education: the Singapore experience

195

CHARLENE TAN AND DIWI BINTI ABBAS

12 Curriculum reform in the Indonesian madrasah: the position of madrasah in the post-independence education system

210

RAIHANI

13 Development of madrasah education in Bosnia and Herzegovina DINA SIJAMHODŽIC´ -NADAREVIC´

228

Contents vii 14 Reform in madrasah education: the South African experience

244

YUSEF WAGHID

15 Madrasah education and Muslim communities in Hong Kong

253

WAI-YIP HO

Index266

Acknowledgements

This book, while independently developed, nevertheless owes its genesis to a conference organised by the Islamic Religious Council of Singapore (Majlis Ugama Islam Singapura or MUIS) at the Singapore Islamic Hub, 15–16 March 2013. Four of the 15 chapters in this book are extensive revisions of the original papers presented at the conference – Chapter 4 by S. Gopinathan, Chapter 8 by Habeeb Quadri, Chapter 9 originally by Farah Mahamood Aljunied, and Chapter 14 by Yusef Waghid. I would like to thank MUIS for its generosity in allowing me to include these four chapters in this book. I would like to extend my personal thanks to the Series Editor, S. Gopinathan, for his keen interest in this volume and for his unfailing encouragement. Special thanks go to all the authors for their well-researched chapters; the two anonymous reviewers for their helpful criticisms of the book proposal; the 24 international scholars who generously gave their time to review the chapters; Allan Luke for his thoughtful comments to an earlier draft of the Introduction; my wife, Kamisah binte Ismail, for taking it upon herself to attend to pressing family matters thereby allowing me to work on this book; Muhammad ‘Arif bin Muhammad Khairul Tan for his vetting of Arabic terms; and Christina Low, Tan ShengBin, and Katie Peace of Routledge, and Lisa Salonen of Apex, for their wonderful editorial support. Mukhlis Abu Bakar June 2017

Contributors

Diwi Binti Abbas is a PhD candidate in Policy and Leadership Studies at the National Institute of Education, Nanyang Technological University, with research interests primarily in Islamic leadership and Islamic education. Diwi was a graduate of Madrasah Al-Ma’arif Al-Islamiah before continuing her studies at the National University of Singapore with a Bachelor of Arts. She earned her Master of Science (Information Studies) from NTU and Master in Islamic Civilization from the International Institute of Islamic Thought and Civilization, International Islamic University, Malaysia. Previously, she has worked as a librarian, a teacher, an education officer and a research assistant. Noor Aisha Abdul Rahman is Head of the Department of Malay Studies, National University of Singapore. Her research and teaching areas include Malay legal history and institutions, Muslim law and its administration in Southeast Asia, sociology of religion and marriage in the Malay/Muslim community of Singapore. She is the author of Colonial Image of Malay Adat Laws (2005) and editor of Secularism and Spirituality: Seeking Integrated Knowledge and Success in Madrasah Education in Singapore (co-editor, 2006). Her articles and book chapters appeared in various journals including Inter Asia Cultural Studies, Asian Journal of Social Science, The Muslim World and Asian Journal of Comparative Law. Mukhlis Abu Bakar is Associate Professor at the National Institute of Education, Nanyang Technological University. Trained as an applied linguist, Mukhlis teaches in the area of grammar, linguistics, discourse, bilingualism and literacy. His current research interests lie in the field of childhood bilingualism and biliteracy, family literacy and a sociocultural approach to literacy learning in the home, school and faith settings. His work on Islamic religious education has led to a Fulbright American Studies Institute Program scholarship on “Religion in Contemporary America: Church, State and Society” at the Centre for Religion and American Public Life, Boston College, USA, in 2003. Albakri Ahmad is Deputy Chief Executive of MUIS and Dean of MUIS Academy. Prior to his current appointment, he served in MUIS’s Office of the Mufti, Religious Education, Research and Corporate Development Units. As

x  Contributors a member of the senior management team and working together with community partners, he is responsible for developing religious leadership and capacity building to achieve the vision of a Muslim Community of Excellence in Singapore. He has a MSc in systems design and a PhD in managerial cybernetics. His interest areas include Islamic education, ethics, interfaith understanding, religion and public policy, and Muslims in plural societies. Farah Ahmed is Director of Education and Research at Islamic Shakhsiyah Foundation and Honorary Research Associate at UCL Institute of Education. She has a BA honours in Philosophy, PGCE in Secondary English, MEd in Educational Research and is a PhD candidate at the University of Cambridge. Her PhD is looking at the use of halaqah to develop autonomous thinking in Muslim children. Farah has over 20 years’ experience teaching in and leading Islamic schools in the UK and has developed courses for teachers on philosophies of Islamic education including pedagogies and practices. Her publications include Principles of Shakhsiyah Education and The Halaqah Curriculum. Arshad Alam is an independent researcher based in Delhi. He has taught at the Jamia Millia Islamia University and Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi. He was an International Ford Fellow at the University of Erfurt, Germany. He has published in the area of Muslim identity and education, low-caste political articulations, Indian Muslims and the question of diversity within Indian Islam. He was Assistant Editor with the journal History and Sociology of South Asia during 2006–12. His latest publications are “Madrasas and Educational Condition of Muslims in India” in Zoya Hasan and Mushirul Hasan (Eds), India: Social Development Report (Oxford University Press, 2013) and “Islam and Religious Pluralism in India” in IIC Quarterly (2014). Farah Mahamood Aljunied is Director for Curriculum Planning and Development at MUIS. She oversees the development and implementation of the revised Islamic Education Curriculum at mosques – aL.I.V.E. (Learning Islamic Values Everyday) and the new Secondary Level Islamic Studies Integrated Curriculum for the Joint Madrasah System. She also supervises the Mosque-Based Kindergartens and facilitates the Islamic Education Providers network. A madrasah graduate, Farah studied communication and Islamic revealed knowledge, and early childhood education for her Bachelor’s degrees and did her Master’s degrees in sociology and education. Her interests include youth identity formation, minority Muslim issues and Islamic education Damian Breen is a Senior Lecturer in Sociology at De Montfort University, Leicester, UK. His interests are primarily around ‘race’, ethnicity and education. These interests have most notably been manifested in his research on Muslim schools in Britain. This research informs a forthcoming monograph entitled Muslim Schools, Communities and Critical Race Theory: Faith schooling in an Islamophobic Britain.

Contributors xi Christopher Candland is Associate Professor of Political Science at Wellesley College, where he co-founded and co-directed the South Asian Studies Program. He has worked and lived in South Asia, on and off, for more than three decades. As a graduate student, he studied Pakistan’s political economy at the University of Karachi in 1992–93. He has held several American Institute of Pakistan Studies fellowships and a Harry Frank Guggenheim fellowship for field research in Pakistan. He earned his PhD from Columbia University and has taught at the University of California Berkeley and at Fatima Jinnah Women University. S. Gopinathan is Adjunct Professor at the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy, National University of Singapore, and Academic Director, The HEAD Foundation, an education think tank. He was Dean of the School of Education, National Institute of Education, Singapore (1994–2000), and Professor of Education from 1999. He has been extensively involved in the development of teacher education in Singapore and has served on Ministry of Education review committees. He was a consultant to the World Bank, UNESCO, UNICEF, the Commonwealth of Learning, the Hong Kong Institute of Education and the Aga Khan University Institute of Education (Pakistan). He was Lead Consultant for the establishment of the Emirates College for Advanced Education in Abu Dhabi and the Bahrain Teachers College. His latest publications are Education and the Nation State (2012) and Globalisation and the Singapore Curriculum (co-editor, 2013). Rosnani Hashim is Professor of Educational Foundations at the Faculty of Education, International Islamic University, Malaysia. Her areas of specialisation are Islamic education – history, philosophy and curriculum, mathematics education and the Hikmah (Wisdom) pedagogy of philosophical inquiry. She has been a Research Fellow, Japan Foundation; a Visiting Specialist, the Fulbright Programme; and a Visiting Professor of Global Education at Nagoya University. Presently, she is the Editor-in-Chief for The IIUM Journal of Educational Studies. Her works include Educational dualism in Malaysia (1996), Reclaiming the conversation (2010) and Critical Issues and Reform in Muslim Higher Education (co-editor, 2015). Wai-Yip Ho is Senior Fellow at Freiburg Institute for Advanced Studies, Marie Curie Fellow of the European Union and Associate Professor at the Education University of Hong Kong. He is the author of Islam and China’s Hong Kong: Ethnic Identity, Muslim Networks and the New Silk Road (Routledge, 2015). His research interests include madrasah educational development in the Chinese context, China’s Christian-Muslim relations, Arabia-China relations, and new media and Islam in China. He held visiting research fellowships at Zentrum Moderner Orient at Berlin, the Center of Muslim-Christian Studies at Oxford, Australian National University and Yemen College of Middle Eastern Studies.

xii  Contributors Nasar Meer is Professor of Comparative Citizenship and Social Policy at the University of Strathclyde and a Royal Society of Edinburgh Research Fellow (2014–19). He has a longstanding interest in race, identity and citizenship. His publications include: Islam and Modernity (editor, 2017); Interculturalism and Multiculturalism: Debating the dividing lines (co-editor, 2016); Citizenship, Identity and the Politics of Multiculturalism: The Rise of Muslim Consciousness (2015, 2nd Edition); Racialization and Religion (editor, 2014), Race and Ethnicity (2014) and European Multiculturalism(s): Religious, Cultural and Ethnic Challenges (co-editor, 2012). In 2016, he was awarded the Royal Society of Edinburgh’s Thomas Reid Medal. Habeeb Quadri is the Principal of MCC Academy, one of the most longstanding Islamic Schools in North America. As an educator, author and youth activist, he has delivered lectures throughout the United States, Canada and abroad on Islam, society and social problems confronting Muslim youth. He was recently confirmed to a seat on the Harvard University Graduate School of Education Principals’ Advisory Board. He has conducted workshops for the US Department of State, Islamic schools, public schools and universities around the world. His educational consulting company with IQRA Foundation initiated the first National Islamic Studies Standardized Test and National Islamic Studies Benchmarks. He has co-authored a number of books and has served as the religious and cultural consultant for children’s books. Raihani is Professor of Islamic Education Studies at the Islamic Education Faculty and Teacher Training, Sultan Syarif Kasim State Islamic University, Indonesia, as well as Adjunct Research Fellow at the School of Social Sciences, The University of Western Australia. Holding a doctorate in the area of educational management from the University of Melbourne, he has published many works in such areas as Islamic education in Indonesia and Australia, educational management and leadership, and multicultural education. He is the author of Creating Multicultural Citizens: A portrayal of contemporary Indonesian education published by Routledge in 2014. Tahreem Sabir is Head Teacher of Shakhsiyah School, Slough, UK, having joined the school shortly after its inception as a class teacher. Prior to this, Tahreem founded and was Principal of the International Islamic Grammar School, Islamabad, Pakistan. She has 17 years’ experience in education including expertise in training and mentoring teachers. Tahreem has a Master’s in Educational Leadership from UCL Institute of Education. Her area of expertise is curriculum development and she has been instrumental in the development of the Shakhsiyah Holistic Curriculum. Tahreem’s areas of interest also include children’s literature and action research in schools. Dina Sijamhodžic´-Nadarevic´ is Assistant Professor at the University of Sarajevo’s Faculty of Islamic Studies in Bosnia and Herzegovina. She has two undergraduate degrees (Islamic Theology and Pedagogy), and has an MA in Religious Pedagogy and PhD in Pedagogy from the University of Sarajevo.

Contributors xiii Dina spent one academic semester as a visiting scholar on the Junior Faculty Development Program managed and funded by the Educational and Cultural Affairs of the US Department of State at the Kent State University, Ohio, USA (2010). She participated in many professional conferences, seminars, symposiums in the country and abroad. Charlene Tan is Associate Professor at the Policy and Leadership Studies Academic Group, National Institute of Education, Nanyang Technological University. She has held visiting appointments at the Syarif Hidayatullah State Islamic University Jakarta; Prince Alwaleed Bin Talal Centre of Islamic Studies, University of Cambridge; and Oxford Centre for Islamic Studies, University of Oxford. She was the principal investigator of a university-funded research project on madrasah education in Singapore. She is the author of Islamic Education and Indoctrination: The Case in Indonesia (Routledge, 2011) and editor of Reforms in Islamic Education: International Perspectives (Bloomsbury, 2014). Yusef Waghid is Distinguished Professor of Philosophy of Education in the Department of Education Policy Studies and previously Dean of the Faculty of Education at Stellenbosch University. He holds doctorates in the areas of Philosophy of Education (University of the Western Cape), Education Policy Studies and Philosophy (Stellenbosch University). He is Editor-in-Chief of South African Journal of Higher Education. His most recent books include: Tolerance and Dissent within Education: Towards debate and understanding (co-author, 2017); Philosophy of Education as Action: Implications for teacher education (co-author, 2017); Educational Leadership-in-Becoming: On the potential of leadership in action (co-author, 2017); and African Democratic Citizenship Education Revisited (co-editor, 2017).

Reviewers

Ahmet Alibašic´ University of Sarajevo Bosnia and Herzegovina

Jamal Malik University of Erfurt Germany

Alison Scott-Baumann School of Oriental and African Studies United Kingdom

Kamaludeen Mohamed Nasir Nanyang Technological University Singapore

Charles J. Russo University of Dayton United States of America

Kung Lap Yan City University of Hong Kong Hong Kong

Enes Karic´ University of Sarajevo Bosnia and Herzegovina

Lyn Parker University of Western Australia Australia

Fauzia Ahmad University College London United Kingdom

Ma Jianxiong Hong Kong Univ. of Science & Technology Hong Kong

Fella Lahmar Independent Researcher United Kingdom Hairon Salleh Nanyang Technological University Singapore Iik Arifin Mansurnoor UIN Syarif Hidayatullah Jakarta Indonesia Iqbal Singh Sevea University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill United States of America

Mardiana Abu Bakar Nanyang Technological University Singapore Marian de Souza Australian Catholic University Australia Mohammad Hannan Hassan Majlis Ugama Islam Singapura Singapore Muhammad Zuhdi UIN Syarif Hidayatullah Jakarta Indonesia

Reviewers xv Nuraan Davids Stellenbosch University South Africa

Shamim Miah University of Huddersfield United Kingdom

Paul Smeyers Katholieke Universiteit Leuven Belgium

Syed Farid Alatas National University of Singapore Singapore

Qibla Ayaz University of Peshawar Pakistan

Syed Khairudin Aljunied National University of Singapore Singapore

Introduction Mukhlis Abu Bakar

In a globalised world where boundaries are blurred and ideologies are in transition, where science and modern technologies become ever more present and demographic changes bring on new societal pressures, we are confronted with new and emerging educational challenges. Advances in biotechnology and stem cell research, depletion of non-renewable natural resources, environmental pollution and growing interconnectedness but rising levels of ethnic, cultural and religious intolerance are examples of new developments that raise questions for education in its capacity to shape values and attitudes for living together. These challenges also require a religious response, for they speak to the ethical, moral and spiritual fabric of a religiously informed individual and society (Padela, 2006; Siddiqui, 1997; UNESCO, 2015; Wersal, 1995). Indeed, these developments not only impact on the quality of human lives, questioning our understanding of values, tradition, norms and worldviews, but may also be perceived as challenging the sovereignty of a higher or deeper transcendent authority. How one lives one’s faith in the face of such circumstances and how one engages with and overcome these challenges are issues that are increasingly relevant in this day and age. Invariably, an individual’s positioning and participation in a globalised world will have to take on these connections. This book explores these issues in the context of madrasah education. The madrasah, whether or not it is warranted in educational terms, has become a symbolic point of contention and conflict in those Islamic societies where sectarian and ideological differences have brought contending groups and communities into conflict. In countries like Indonesia, the issues about reform, control and curriculum have generated heated debate and dialogue. At the same time, in Western countries with large Muslim minorities, madrasahs have become important cultural institutions for their communities, and also symbolic objects of Islamophobia and hate crimes (Malik, 2008). Over the centuries, madrasahs have been instrumental in circulating the knowledge and practice of the Muslim faith. They have succeeded in laying down taxing standards for students and the larger community to seamlessly connect religious beliefs to behaviour. This requirement of conduct is what differentiates madrasahs from secular educational institutions. However, they have been less successful, for the most part, in bringing about the intellectual transformation

2  Mukhlis Abu Bakar of contemporary Muslim societies, particularly in the field of religious thought (Moosa, 2015). Still, no institution is potentially in a better position to carry out this transformational change than the madrasah itself through its religious scholars or ulama (plural of alim, ‘learned’) given the latter’s pervasive influence on the community. They have helped to increase “public understanding of morality, ethics, and conduct . . ., which ranges from intimate matters affecting the family to banking practices, national politics, governance, and the most complex questions of international relations, war, and peace” (Moosa, 2015: 10). The book argues for the need for the madrasah to rethink education for Muslim children, to re-envision an education that provides for the children’s holistic development in a changing world – spiritual, moral, intellectual, aesthetic, emotional and physical, and to foster a worldview where critical thinking, an ethical code of conduct and a scientific outlook are prerequisites for addressing global issues. Amongst these students are a generation of future religious teachers and ulama whose ability to assess the complex issues of the day and articulate positions on those issues from an Islamic perspective becomes even more crucial (Zaman, 2002). As such, the positioning of these religious leaders, and more crucially how they are prepared, warrant attention. A concern for many nations, in particular Muslim-minority nations, is how to address the increasing demands for robust intellectual capacity and simultaneously nurture the development of sound moral and spiritual citizens. The book offers glimpses into the reform process at work and the extent it is successful through contemporary examples in selected countries.

Clarifying the term ‘madrasah’ A clarification on the term madrasah as used in this book is in order. The word madrasah derives from the Arabic word darasa, which means ‘to study’. In the Arabic-speaking world, madrasah refers to all types of schools, those that teach only the traditional Islamic subjects as well as those that are completely secularised without the provision of any religious instruction. In much of the non-­ Arabic speaking parts of Asia, however, the term is used in a more restricted sense, referring to schools whose setup is geared towards providing students with what is understood as Islamic education. For the purpose of this book, the term madrasah is used in that restricted sense, but also in a broad sense to refer to all Muslim religious schools whose essential aim is to provide Islamic education, although what constitutes the breadth and depth of ‘Islamic education’ may vary from one madrasah institution to the next. Noor, Sikand and van Bruinessen (2008) alluded to this encompassing definition of the madrasah in their acknowledgement of it’s geographically and culturally diverse nature: They differ widely in terms of curricula, teaching methods and approaches to the challenges of modernity, . . . [and] the levels of religious education that they provide their students, from the small maktab or kuttab attached to a mosque and catering to small children, providing them with skills to

Introduction 3 read and recite the Quran and perform basic Islamic rituals, to university-size jami’as and Dar al-‘ulums. (p. 9–10, italics in the original) Madrasahs can be found wherever there is a sizeable Muslim community – in Southeast Asia, especially Indonesia, Singapore, Malaysia and parts of Thailand and the Philippines; across South Asia that includes Bangladesh, India, Pakistan and Afghanistan; the Middle East including Iran; and parts of Africa. They have been widely used as an educational resource to foster religious learning. The more advanced level of madrasah education specialises in the study of classical theological and legal texts and commentaries on the Muslim scripture, the Qur’an. They place particular importance on the study of the life and teachings of Islam’s Prophet Muhammad, and engage in complex details about how rules and morals should regulate public and private behaviour according to religious norms. All the secondary subjects that are needed to acquire competence in these primary fields of study are also taught, such as Arabic grammar and literature, rhetoric and logic, among others (Hefner, 2009; Moosa, 2015). The changing political and economic landscape of the early 21st century has transformed some of the madrasahs into modern schools such as those found in Singapore (Tan & Diwi, this volume) and Bosnia and Herzegovina (Sijamhodžic´Nadarevic´, this volume) which prioritise a range of Islamic subjects besides a broad-based curriculum that includes modern subjects such as science, social sciences and contemporary languages. These madrasahs exist alongside national or state schools which primarily offer secular-based education (Gopinathan, this volume). In Malaysia, where Islam is the official religion, the national schools have taken on the role of provider of Islamic religious education comparable to those offered in the traditional madrasahs. The distinction between the national schools and madrasahs in the provision of Islamic education has narrowed significantly of late that the more progressive among the madrasahs have decided to transform themselves into national schools or become government-aided schools (Rosnani, this volume) and benefit from a more stable source of funding. There are also offshoots of the madrasahs brought about, in particular, by South Asian diaspora in Muslim-minority areas like Europe, South Africa and North America, all of which are independent of their Asian origin. These new establishments are referred to by different names: ‘madrasah’, ‘Shakhsiyah schools’, ‘housques’ or simply ‘Muslim or Islamic schools’ (see Ahmed & Sabir; Quadri; Ho; Meer & Breen; Waghid, this volume). What unites them with their more traditional counterparts in Muslim-majority countries is the aim of fostering religious learning and providing a foundation in religious knowledge and practice for the purpose of living a moral life and spiritual bonding. At one end of the spectrum, the transmission of the Islamic scholarly tradition goes towards cultivating religious specialists who teach and perform religious services. At the other, the inclusion of modern subjects serves the aim of developing Muslim professionals with appropriate knowledge, skills and demeanour to compete in the job market (Rosnani, 1996; Mukhlis, 2009). In this book, the term

4  Mukhlis Abu Bakar ‘madrasah’ encompasses all the different types of Islamic educational institutions existing today.

Embracing a changing world It is not only in modern times that Muslims face the intellectual challenge of a changing world. The history of Islam, particularly from the time of Prophet Muhammad and the Rightly Guided Caliphs (successor of the Prophet) through to the Umayyad and Abbasid caliphates, is a story of how the early Muslims put their new faith to the test when they established authority, first in Medina, and later in the complex ‘new world’ of the Middle East and beyond. The diversity of cultures, lifestyles and customs of these rich and developed areas such as the ByzantineChristian and the Persian Sasanian empires was a stark contrast to the simple Arabian heartlands of these early Muslims. After an initial period of adjustment, they eventually drew upon the institutions and cultures that already existed in these lands and adapted to Arab Muslim needs. They built cosmopolitan and inclusive cities and created a relatively peaceful and conducive atmosphere that allowed knowledge, creativity and innovations to thrive (Esposito, 2010; Al-Khalili, 2011). Early Islamic civilisation was thus pluralistic with various cultures and traditions thriving in the great cities built by the caliphate. Arab scholars, both Muslims and non-Muslims, not only translated important Western classical works but also produced new and original ideas of their own. Major advances in law, theology, philosophy, literature, art, medicine, mathematics, optics and astronomy were achieved during that period. Words like alchemy, algebra, alkali and alcohol – derived from Arabic roots, a cosmopolitan language of that age – are all traces of an intellectually sophisticated Muslim past (Esposito, 2010; Moosa, 2015). On the achievements of the early Muslims, Maria R. Menocal (2003) notes: The virtue of this Arab-Islamic civilization (in this as in other things not so unlike the Roman) lay precisely in its being able to assimilate and even revive the rich gifts of earlier and indigenous cultures, some crumbling, others crumbled, even as it was itself being crafted. The range of cultural yearning and osmosis of the Islamic empire in this expansive moment was as great as its territorial ambitions: from the Roman spolia that would appear as the distinctive capitals on the columns of countless mosques to the Persian stories that would be known as The Thousand and One (or Arabian) Nights, from the corpus of translated Greek philosophical texts to the spices and silks of the farthest East. Out of this acquisitive confrontation with a universe of languages, cultures, and people, the Umayyad [Arabs], who had come pristine out of the Arabian desert, defined their version of Islam as one that loved its dialogues with other traditions. (p. 21–22, italics in the original) If indeed this keen interest in dialogue with other traditions contributed to the creation of a progressive civilisation, the shying away from dialogue impacted

Introduction 5 on the society in other ways. There were among the early Muslims those who viewed the processes of acculturation – influx of “foreign” ways, the adoption of new ideas and practices – as departing from the idealised past. They criticised the Umayyad practice and policies as being more influenced by foreign innovations than by the practices of the Prophet and the early Medinan community, and the inspiration and unification of the empire as having more to do with Arab power and wealth than Islamic commitment and ideals (Esposito, 2010). In an attempt to bring the Umayyad practice and law into line with normative Islam (associated with the period of Prophet Muhammad and the Rightly Guided Caliphs), these men devoted themselves to the study of the Qur’an, Arabic language and linguistics, the collection and examination of Prophetic traditions, and the formulation and explication of Islamic law (the shari’ah). The ideology of restoring early Islam appealed to the masses and gave stature and influence to these men who eventually emerged as the religious class, the ulama. The Abbasids rode on this ideology when they replaced the Umayyad leadership, and developed Islamic scholarship and disciplines, built mosques and established schools. Under the patronage of the new rulers, the ulama entrenched their authority as theologians, jurists, educators and the interpreters and guardians of the shari’ah. The founders of the four main schools of Muslim (Sunni) religious jurisprudence emerged during this period and their work embodied the moral and social impulses of Islam (Esposito, 2010). Dialogue with other traditions continued to be a hallmark of the early Islamic civilisation under the Abbasids. If the Umayyads incorporated Byzantine arts and architecture, the Abbasids patronised Hellenistic philosophy and science, Persian literature and other aspects of the Middle Eastern imperial cultural tradition (Lapidus, 1996). Theology then was not limited to studying the scriptures and Sunnah (example) of the Prophet but also the writings of Plato and Aristotle. This gave rise to the emergence of different schools of theology other than the one subscribed to by the ulama. The rationalists, for instance, who were favoured by the caliphs for political reasons, argued that the universe was arranged by certain principles that can be discovered by reason alone. This was at odds with the ulama’s position which, while accepting the use of reason as a tool in theological debates, conceded that God ultimately transcends reason. Over time, the shying away from dialogue gained traction. In the theological tensions that ensued between rationalist (associated with the caliphs) and orthodox (the ulama) interpretations of Islam, the latter claimed victory, which resulted in the caliphs losing their position as a source of religious belief even as the ulama remained committed to them as the successors to the Prophet. While the caliphate evolved into a largely military and imperial institution, the ulama on the other hand, developed authority over the communal, personal, religious and doctrinal aspects of Islam (Lapidus, 1996). This loosening of government from religion was unfortunate as it weakened the rule of the caliphs whose legitimacy rested on them being both the political and religious leader of the community of believers or ummah. Yet, within the relative safety of this expansive and inclusive empire, faith and reason continued to “exist in comfortable harmony and accommodation” (Ahmed, 2007: 11) and the proliferation of new knowledge in the

6  Mukhlis Abu Bakar various disciplines continued to prosper (Hernandez, 1991). One of the intellectual giants that emerged was Abu Hamid al-Ghazali (d. 1111), who, despite his combative attitude towards Greek learning was nevertheless not closed to cosmopolitan learning of his time (Moosa, 2005). This fine balance between faith and reason, so beautifully struck despite inherent struggles, was characteristic of the caliphal period that stretched over six centuries. However, after defeat descended on the Muslims in 1258 with the invasion of Baghdad by the Mongols, followed by the loss of Muslim hegemony in world affairs, this fine balance lost its foothold. A resurgence that took place in the 15th century in the form of dynamic Muslim sultanates and the establishment of three major empires – the Ottoman Turkish centred in Istanbul; Persian Safavid in Isfahan; and Mughal empire in Delhi – could not bring back the glory of the past except for the occasional brilliant sparks in their history (Esposito, 2010). The ulama of that period had become part of a prosperous religious establishment that assisted the sultans in centralising and controlling the educational, legal and social systems. In education, fiqh, along with the Qur’an and Hadith (Prophetic sayings), was the mainstay of the madrasah curriculum, but there was an absence of a robust intellectual paradigm in Islamic thought. The content of education during this period also did not reflect available up-to-date knowledge, especially the rational sciences, and in technology (Riaz, 2011). Thus, while the ulama of the caliphal period actively built repositories of Islamic knowledge relevant to the needs of their time, the ulama of the sultanate period were contented with a lifeless study of those repositories (Moosa, 2015; Sikand, 2005). There are indications to suggest that the situation has improved little today (Noor Aisha, this volume).

Reforming madrasah education The foregoing reflection on the success and struggle in keeping both faith and reason in comfortable harmony during the caliphal period might give educators a lead in bringing madrasah education forward in a globalised world. Over the past centuries, there have been periodic debates and disagreement over whether the old madrasah curricula should be retained, altered or blended with a syllabus that consists of modern subjects. The results have been mixed. They range from those who object to any change to the madrasah syllabus, to some who tolerate superficial amendments, to others who favour a curriculum that combines the old and the new. On the whole, however, the madrasah has kept to the status quo. Ebrahim Moosa (2015) makes the case that any change necessarily invites a modification of what it means to be a Muslim. And Muslim identity is a contested domain which goes beyond being an observant Muslim who practices Islam’s five pillars. There are many contested interpretations and meanings of Islam. The protracted struggle between the caliphs and the ulama serves to demonstrate the difficulty of defining Muslim identity. This is also an issue of concern in the educational realm where community identity or nationhood is central. As proposed by pro-innovation traditionalist thinker Shibli Nu’mani (1955, cited in Moosa, 2015: 220), Muslim identity pivots on Islam in two ways: as a faith tradition

Introduction 7 and as a cultural tradition. This is not dissimilar to the distinction made by pro-­ modernist intellectual Fazlur Rahman (1982) between normative Islam and historical Islam. Many Muslims would be able to say without much thought what it means to identify with Islam as a faith tradition. The shari’ah has long filled that capacity which Muslims, in the past and today, identify with, even though its presentation in the globalised world has come under tremendous strain. In contrast, identifying with Islam as a cultural and civilisational tradition is harder to grasp. For Nu’mani, cultural tradition is associated with a modern, plural society involving citizenship and a version of political representation, possibly even democracy. Plurality here signifies a free-flowing, natural process not only articulated through the process of migration but also through cultural borrowings and adaptations (Shamsul, 2005). This cultural tradition necessarily evolves over time and is peculiar to the given context. It manifested in the plural society of the Abbasid era through, for example, their extensive borrowing from Persian culture with its divinely ordained system of government. True to Nu’mani’s caution, it was a struggle for the Abbasid rulers to mobilise the ulama to embrace the cultural evolution of their society as part of their Muslim identity. But other segments of the society seemed to have reconciled the demands of the faith with the cultural pulse of that society to the point of engaging in highly fruitful intellectual and scientific endeavours. One critique of the madrasah system is its strong interest in the classics of the Islamic tradition rather than with contemporary issues. Translating and clarifying the ancient Islamic texts must be carried out with an attempt to link the medieval world to contemporary realities. Ebrahim Moosa (2015) provides an interesting example – the delineation of the seven types of water usable to secure ritual purity: rain, sea, river, well, spring water and water melted from snow and ice. A lesson on the topic can be transformed into broader discussion, e.g., about the validity of recycled water for ritual purposes, which would be a novel contribution to the medieval authors’ original treatment of the subject. Students should be armed with the practice of understanding the relevance of the text they study as well as how to apply their insights in a globalised world. As Allan Luke (2003) has suggested, what we teach students to ‘do’ with texts – intellectually, culturally, socially and politically – is as important as what we teach them to ‘know’. Complexity and the interweaving of disciplines is the order of the world today. The early Muslims of the caliphal period have long recognised the importance of constructing new knowledge by exposing Muslim religious thought to different methods of inquiry such as critical readings of Greek philosophy and Neoplatonism and Persian literature. Likewise, tremendous gains can be had if the madrasahs integrate modern science, social science, humanities and local knowledge into a continuous and coherent curriculum that speaks with the core traditional madrasah curriculum and its emphasis on religious teachings (Moosa, 2015). An ethicist who has training and expertise in history or socio-biology will surely appreciate the development and evolution of values formed within religious discourses much better than someone who does not. Similarly, an educator who clarifies theological issues with a contemporary resonance to the lived experience of his Muslim students is surely superior than one who only brings up uncritically references to seventh-century Arabia.

8  Mukhlis Abu Bakar Muslim exposure to both modern secular and religious education is indispensable. Repeated calls for a fresh interpretation of the Qur’an and the Sunnah so that it is more appropriate to contemporary contexts have been made in the past by reformists including Muhammad Abduh of Egypt, who insisted that interpretation of divinely revealed texts is a dynamic process in which reason and revelation sit together in harmony (Abduh, 2002). The persistent stalemate over the use of modern knowledge in order to advance Muslim religious thought is thus perplexing. The Muslim world is rife with the belief that the careful following of the teachings of the learned teachers of the past and their treatment of the Qur’an and sunnah is what would return Muslims to the ‘right path’ (Esposito, 2010; Sikand, 2005). Among Muslim traditionalists, they appear to struggle in holding on to both the requirement of piety and the contemporary challenge to have the broadest grounding in knowledge (Moosa, 2015; Alam; Candland, this volume). These perhaps explain the ambivalence among Muslim intellectuals and elites to effect change, to inject a fresh perspective on how Islam can play a progressive role in developing a positive change in people’s lives and not simply as a privatised religion that has no contributing content for public discourse. In some places, reforms were forced onto the madrasah such as in Singapore where the legislation on compulsory elementary education resulted in the madrasahs having to take the national curriculum to their students. The mandatory national examination for maths, science, English and the mother tongue language at the end of primary schooling – with serious repercussions for the madrasahs’ continued survival should students fail to reach a certain minimum standard set by the government – diverted attention away from thinking about the complexity of integrating the different streams of knowledge into a coherent whole (Mukhlis, 2009; but see Aljunied and Albakri, this volume). There is evidence, however, that holds out hope that the transformational shift in the outlook and practice of Muslims will make a change for the better. The call to forge an Islamic modernity has inspired pockets of enlightened Muslims to build schools and institutions that develop syllabi that are contemporary and relevant. One example is the attempt by scholars and students of Zaytuna College in the United States to critically engage the Islamic discursive tradition in order to craft an ‘American Islam’ based on a shared moral and ethical system that draws from the heterogeneous experiences of diverse Muslims and their material circumstances (Kashani, 2014). Other examples of attempts at curricular and pedagogic reform can be found in this book (e.g., Ahmed & Sabir; Quadri; Aljunied & Albakri, this volume), which also includes essays that explore key challenges that arise from the reform process (e.g., Raihani; Waghid, this volume). Needless to say, it is with a certain advocacy that this book was conceptualised – the necessity to rethink madrasah education and learning in a changing world.

Outline of the chapters This is not a typical academic book in the sense that the authors come from a variety of perspectives and experiences – scholars who have worked extensively on the issue of madrasah education in different countries as well as practitioners

Introduction 9 who have at some point played an important role in their respective institutions and worked directly in the reform process. They speak to the issue of rethinking madrasah education from their respective vantage points. The book comprises 15 chapters grouped in three sections. Each section reflects the chapters’ particular emphasis on the topic. The chapters in the first section – Social, political and cultural contexts – give readers a good appreciation of the contexts in selected countries within which the madrasahs operate, and the challenges from both inside and outside the madrasahs. The chapters in the second section – Curriculum and pedagogy – provide contemporary examples of some of the curriculum and pedagogical reform processes at work including suggestions of how students can connect their religious heritage with contemporary issues. Finally, the last section – Issues in education reforms – describe how Muslim communities in different countries have worked to make the madrasah stay relevant, and the extent to which these efforts have been successful.

Social, political and cultural contexts The section begins with Noor Aisha Abdul Rahman discussing the impact of the rapid and massive social change induced by the processes of industrialisation and modernisation on Muslim societies. She then explores major socio-historical factors that have impeded madrasah development in Southeast Asia and South Asia, giving attention to analysing the nature of political culture, the historical experience of colonialism, the orientation of the dominant religious elite, and the impact of the phenomenon of religious revivalism in Muslim societies. She warns that any lag in revaluing the aims, philosophy and modes of learning in madrasah education will have an impact on the general progress of the Muslims and the relevance of Islam in contributing to creative assimilation of contributions from diverse civilisations and to the direction of modernisation. Revaluation of madrasah education can become a tricky venture when the parties involved are in conflict as to what reform means to them. In his analysis of the reform process in India, Arshad Alam notes that both the state and the madrasah (represented by the ulama) have their own notions of reform in the madrasah context. The state views such reforms as a means of introducing contemporary and relevant knowledge into the curriculum while the madrasah understands them as a process of returning to the fundamentals of true religion, to rid it of what are seen as harmful or non-essential accretions. It gets trickier when stateled modernisation efforts are seen as mere rhetoric, which only builds mistrust between the two parties. Distrust underlies much of the resistance of the madrasah in Pakistan towards government-led reforms. Christopher Candland places these reform efforts in historical and political contexts in order to understand why they have failed. At the risk of simplifying the complex issues around the madrasahs, which Candland carefully articulates, suffice to say that discourses that often get foregrounded are those predicated on whether the madrasahs promote violence or whether madrasah education is inadequate for employment and life in the modern world. That there is a gem of Islamic education practiced in some madrasahs – where critical

10  Mukhlis Abu Bakar thought and liberal education are celebrated in harmony with the religious and the spiritual – is lost on many. Moving on to Singapore where Malay Muslims constitute an indigenous but small minority, S. Gopinathan suggests that efforts to modernise the madrasah curriculum are best understood in the wider context of education reform in the country. Calls to modernise curriculum and pedagogy in the madrasahs are to some extent echoes of proposals at the national level. By considering the historical and current changes in Singapore’s educational system (multiple pathways at the secondary level, greater school-level autonomy and the cultivation of 21stcentury competencies), he shows how economic and social changing contexts place substantive challenges and implications on madrasah education. Muslims are a more recent minority community in Britain where schooling is a major area of struggle for equality of opportunity and assertion of identity. As such, the position of madrasah (or generally known there as Muslim faith schools) is best understood in the context of prevalent critiques or political circumstances within which these schools are embedded. Nasar Meer and Damian Breen present in detail the myriad of challenges facing these schools as well as the challenges to society posed by the presence of the schools. A critical issue amongst Muslims in Britain is reconfiguring what being a Muslim in the West means, with part of that process being linked to the issue of schooling.

Curriculum and pedagogy The section begins with Yusef Waghid offering a philosophical account of the integration of knowledge that is premised on a non-dichotomous, or what he calls ‘non-bifurcatory’, view of knowledge, which he suggests is critical to an understanding of a reconceptualised view of madrasah education. He first cites Islamisation and the conceptual problems associated with it as an instance of how one conceives of knowledge integration, and illustrates the extent it has succeeded in selected Muslim countries. He then describes the alternative, nonbifurcatory view of knowledge and examines some of its implications for teaching and learning. In this radicalised imaginary of madrasah education, memorisation and the acquisition of factual knowledge are accompanied and informed by reflective thought and critical reasoning, where students and teachers are co-learners, in a system that is open to the critical scrutiny of others. The next three chapters in this section focus on the practice of education in some private schools in Britain, the USA and Singapore respectively. Farah Ahmed and Tahreem Sabir make the point that rethinking Islamic education in the context of Britain should be firmly located in rethinking the role of Muslims as a minority, and supporting the integration of Muslims as Muslims in the society. They present the curricular and pedagogical innovations in the Shakhsiyah schools as an example of that endeavour. A key feature of the schools’ curriculum is the personalised learning approach that centres the development of each individual child’s character within a holistic thematic curriculum that promotes dialogue about Islamic concepts and values in relation to other worldviews, be it

Introduction 11 religious or the dominant secular-liberal worldview of the society the child lives in. Through such dialogues and independent learning, children gain a broad as well as deep historical, social and geographical understanding of the world. Habeeb Quadri discusses the importance of integration in his description of how his school in the US integrates Islamic knowledge into the general curriculum to provide a holistic and practical understanding and application of Islam. Drawing from the knowledge that Islam is to be lived, as illustrated by Prophet Muhammad himself, he cautions against an Islamic education that fails to help students find a connection with the knowledge of the Qur’an in the everyday issues that children face – gender relations, Islam and culture, character and leadership, issues of identity, to name a few. He shares practical examples of how knowledge of Islam can be infused into the different subject areas such as English literature, history and science by applying modern pedagogical tools including researching, writing and acting out unique plays relevant to the topic of study. Echoing the call for integrated holistic education, Farah Mahamood Aljunied and Albakri Ahmad describe the attempt at improving madrasah education in Singapore. This is facilitated with the introduction of the Joint Madrasah System (JMS), which consolidates the operations and resources of three madrasahs. After an elaborate review process, the revised curriculum introduced at the secondary level hinges on three components: integration of curriculum both within the Islamic subject areas and across the modern subjects; creation of learning materials that are contemporary and contextualised; and methods in pedagogy and assessment that are more in tune with current developments in education. There is much hope that the new curriculum will produce graduates who are steeped in the Islamic tradition yet able to embrace modernity in an intellectually productive way. Rosnani Hashim takes a bold step back by focusing on evaluating the Islamic Studies education (ISE) curriculum of Malaysian national schools, which is comparable to that offered in the religious schools. Her contention is that if ISE is to be a moral compass for Muslim students, it will serve the schools well to identify areas in both the curriculum and pedagogy that match with the needs and challenges of modern times. She found little emphasis in the curriculum on the application of religious knowledge to contemporary issues and everyday situations which, converging with the earlier point by Quadri, must be addressed to ensure that students do not develop a disconnect between the classroom and the outside world.

Issues in educational reforms The final section begins with Charlene Tan and Diwi Binti Abbas’s analysis of madrasah reform at the primary level set against the national, state-sponsored system of education in Singapore. The authors contrast the state’s ‘secular’ view of knowledge that underpins the creation of a qualified and flexible workforce that excels in the new globalised world with an Islamic view that does not distinguish between ‘religious’ and ‘secular’ knowledge, viewing all knowledge as coming

12  Mukhlis Abu Bakar from God and education as an integral part of religious inculcation and devotion. This ‘compatibilist’ view between ‘religious’ and ‘academic’ knowledge, they opine, has enabled a case study madrasah to tap into the resources that the state provides and aim for its students the acquisition of both ‘modern’ subjects and ‘religious’ subjects within an Islamic ethos. Raihani follows up by describing how the madrasah is positioned in the Indonesian education system by reviewing the changes to the madrasah curriculum over two periods of Indonesian history – New Order and Reform Order. Where previously, the madrasah was seen as incompatible with the modernisation process of the country, now it is positioned as equal to the general schools. Raihani argues that the curriculum changes that made this possible were not due to the madrasah’s modernisation efforts alone but driven by several socio-political factors including the historical conflict between Islamist and secular nationalist groups, the structural dichotomy between general and religious education, the political willingness of both national and local governments, and the societal stigmatisation of madrasah as a ‘second-class’ schooling system. Historical, political and social factors have also impacted on the madrasah institution in Bosnia and Herzegovina. In this chapter, Dina Sijamhodžic´-Nadarevic´ describes how the madrasah, the first of which was established during the Ottoman rule in the 15th century, has responded to the challenges amidst radical political and social changes and varying ideologies over the course of the country’s turbulent history. The thrust of the chapter is on the madrasah’s survival alongside concerns of its status, structure and curriculum as it adapts to its new milieu and challenges posed by the changes. Although unique, in some ways, the madrasah’s transformation into an institution that keep pace with the developmental needs of the country mirrors the developmental trajectory of madrasahs in other settings such as those in Singapore. The preceding three chapters evaluate the success of madrasah reforms in places where Muslims are native to the area. The focus of the final two chapters is on the experiences of Muslim communities providing Islamic religious education in their adopted countries. The first migrants arrived in South Africa more than 350 years ago and since then, madrasah education has evolved, sensitive to the changing social and political situation of the day – the colonisation, apartheid and democratisation periods. Yusef Waghid describes the pedagogical rationales and curricular activities that guided education for Muslims during those periods and examines the implications of an integrated understanding of madrasah education for Muslim pedagogy. He argues that critical madrasah education (which includes critical reasoning, limited rote learning, deliberative inquiry and social justice) can be attentive to the waves of change in post-apartheid South African society. He harbours hope that such education can cultivate students who are responsive to the politico-societal demands of an emerging economy. Muslim migration in Hong Kong is a more recent phenomenon. Socio-­cultural factors and geopolitical forces play a part in the development of madrasah education culture in Hong Kong. Wai-Yip Ho identifies three distinct groups of

Introduction 13 Muslims – South Asian Muslims, Chinese Hui Muslims and Indonesian M ­ uslims – who together form a sizeable Muslim community in need of places of worship and religious education. Given the community’s financial constraints (properties in Hong Kong are ludicrously expensive), the Muslims resort to renting small private flats and converting them into sacred spaces called ‘housques’ for the combined purpose of prayer and religious education. This enables Muslim youths to embrace both worldly knowledge (in school) and spiritual piety (in the housestyle madrasah). Taken together, the chapters in this book offers an overview of what it means to rethink madrasah education in the context of a globalised world, the issues that confront such an endeavour and the extent it can and cannot succeed. The book will be of interest to policy makers and government officers who have oversight over madrasah education or who are interested in Muslim educational reform as it pertains to curriculum and pedagogical development and innovation.

References Abduh, M. (2002). Laws should change in accordance with the conditions of nations and the theology of unity. In C. Kurzman (Ed.), Modernist Islam, 1840–1940: A Sourcebook (pp. 50–60). New York: Oxford University Press. Ahmed, A. (2007). Journey Into Islam. New Delhi: Penguin Books India. Al-Khalili, J. (2011). The House of Wisdom: How Arabic Science Saved Ancient Knowledge and Gave Us the Renaissance. New York: The Penguin Press. Esposito, J. L. (2010). Islam: The Straight Path (4th edition). New York: Oxford University Press. Hefner, R. W. (2009). Making Modern Muslims: The Politics of Islamic Education in Southeast Asia. Honolulu, HI: University of Hawaii Press. Hernandez, M. C. (1991, December). The roots of coexistence. UNESCO Courier, 20–23. Kashani, M. (2014). Seekers of sacred knowledge: Zaytuna College and the education of American Muslims. Unpublished Doctoral dissertation, The University of Texas, Austin, TX. Lapidus, I. M. (1996, May). State and religion in Islamic societies. Past & Present, 151, 3–27. Luke, A. (2003). Literacy education for a new ethics of global community. Language Arts, 81(1), 20–22. Malik, J. (Ed.). (2008). Madrasas in South Asia: Teaching Terror? London and New York: Routledge. Menocal, M. R. (2003). The Ornament of the World: How Muslims, Jews, and Christians Created a Culture of Tolerance in Medieval Spain. New York: Back Bay Books. Moosa, E. (2005). Ghazali and the Poetics of Imagination. Chapel Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press. Moosa, E. (2015). What Is a Madrasa? Chapel Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press. Mukhlis, A. B. (2009). Islamic religious education and Muslim religiosity in Singapore. In J. A. Banks (Ed.), The Routledge International Companion to Multicultural Education. New York: Routledge.

14  Mukhlis Abu Bakar Noor, F. A., Sikand, Y., and Bruinessen, M. V. (2008). The Madrasa in Asia: Political Activism and Transnational Linkages. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press. Padela, A. I. (2006). Medical ethics in religious traditions: A study of Judaism, Catholicism, and Islam. Journal of the Islamic Medical Association of North America, 38(3), 106–117. Rahman, F. (1982). Islam & Modernity: Transformation of an Intellectual Tradition. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Riaz, A. (2011). Madrassah education in pre-colonial and Colonial South Asia. Journal of Asian and African Studies, 46(1), 69–86. Rosnani, H. (1996). Educational Dualism in Malaysia: Implications for Theory and Practice. Kuala Lumpur: Oxford University Press. Shamsul, A. B. (2005). Islam embedded: Religion and plurality in Southeast Asia as a mirror for Europe. Asia Europe Journal, 3(2), 159–178. Siddiqui, A. (1997). Ethics in Islam: Key concepts and contemporary challenges. Journal of Moral Education, 26(4), 423–431. Sikand, Y. (2005). Bastions of the Believers: Madrasas and Islamic Education in India. New Delhi: Penguin. UNESCO. (2015). Rethinking Education: Towards a Global Common Good. Paris: The United Nations Education, Scientific and Cultural Organization. Wersal, L. (1995). Islam and environmental ethics: Tradition responds to contemporary challenges. Zygon®, 30(3), 451–459. Zaman, M. Q. (2002). The Ulama in Contemporary Islam: Custodians of Change. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

Part I

Social, political and cultural contexts

1 Challenges to madrasah education in contemporary Muslim societies Noor Aisha Abdul Rahman

Introduction Generally, educationalists maintain that irrespective of historical conditions and cultural systems, education provides a given society with a general direction and unifying outlook. Its universal aims include the acquisition of necessary knowledge for living within the social and cultural system; an understanding of human and non-human forms of life as well as other phenomenon in the universe; the cultivation of the spiritual, moral, psychological and intellectual development of the personality; the strengthening of civic consciousness and social solidarity; and the attainment of the good life (Alatas, 1998: 78). These aims of education that are the basis of decent life and social organisation lend concrete approaches and practice in specific socio-historical contexts. With unprecedented technological advancement and rapid social change that has impacted on basic social institutions in the contemporary world, the kind of education needed and how it can be realised preoccupy the minds of educationalists, practitioners and policy makers alike. Yet, such dynamic discourse at revaluation and reform in education remains wanting in the domain of religious education provided by Muslim religious schools, commonly referred to as madrasahs. This chapter focuses on the predominant mode of teaching and learning religion that prevails in madrasah education in the contemporary period. The extent to which it facilitates and contributes to developing critical awareness and relevance of religious teachings, tradition and values to deal with the challenges and problems of Muslims in adapting to the complex plural societies in which they inhabit today is the major objective of the chapter. Given the vast disparity and diversity of madrasah education all over the world, this chapter confines itself mainly to those in Southeast Asia and India. Data is largely drawn from studies on selected madrasahs in these areas, most of which are largely though not exclusively confined to the more traditional sector of the educational system. This means that not all are integrated into the national educational system and/or are receiving state funding. Nor have all incorporated modern knowledge into the curriculum. These variations by themselves do not impede an understanding of the predominant mode of teaching and learning of religious knowledge in these institutions. It can also be said that generally, similar

18  Noor Aisha Abdul Rahman problems and challenges exist beyond the limited sample of madrasahs in this study although they are not the focus of this chapter. For the purpose of this study, the term madrasah is used broadly to include the variety of Muslim religious schools including the maktab, pondok and pesantren. Since their inception, these schools have provided the community with a foundation in religious knowledge for the purpose of living a moral life and for spiritual bonding. Generally, the religious curriculum focuses on the study of commentaries of the Qur’an and Hadith, fiqh (jurisprudence), principles of religion (usul addin), theology (kalam), mysticism (tasawwuf), ethics (akhlaq), Arabic grammar (nahw) and rhetoric (balaghah). Since the early 20th century, some of these schools have incorporated the study of modern knowledge with the aim of broadening students’ religious outlook. Today, many have institutionalised the dual curriculum with varied emphasis on religious and modern knowledge with the aim of cultivating not only religious specialists who teach and perform religious services but also Muslim professionals with appropriate knowledge and skills to compete in the job market. The need to secure employment, the extent of support and funding received from the government and the community and the phenomenon of religious revivalism are some of the major factors that have conditioned the formalisation of the madrasahs’ dual aims. A critical examination of the approach and practices of madrasah education does not negate their contributions that are or have been of value. Madrasahs, particularly those in Asia, generally have not stood still amidst social change which began with colonialism. Reform of religious education then was undertaken as part of the wider effort towards improving the general socio-economic condition of the community. The aim was to create a new generation of young Muslims able to use religion to contribute towards alleviating the social, economic and political plight of the Muslims. The establishment of the modern Muslim college at Aligarh by Sir Syed Ahmad Khan, the Al-Iqbal Al-Islamiyah founded by Syed Sheikh Al-Hadi and the creation of religious schools led by Muhammadiyah leaders in Indonesia that differed from the traditional pesantren were some of the numerous concerted early attempts at modernising Islamic education. That the institution has provided millions of Muslims with basic religious foundation both historically (including the colonial period when education for the masses was largely neglected) as well as in contemporary times cannot be overlooked (Farish, 2008). Furthermore, in areas where access to basic education today remain wanting, madrasahs continue to serve as the only path to literacy and offer some respite from social problems such as child labour, sex trafficking and other abuses (Evans, 2006). Those integrated into the national educational system tend to ensure better outcomes in terms of opportunities for employment, particularly in the religious bureaucracy and religious schools (Lindsey, 2012: 231–234).

Changing educational approaches and practice In his reflections on the impact of rapid social change on education in Western Europe in the early 20th century, the sociologist Mannheim maintained that

Challenges to madrasah education 19 schools were no longer self-sufficient and compartmentalised from changing conditions and needs of society. The increasing complexity of the social structure and competing valuations on almost every aspect of life that impacted basic social institutions had induced serious challenges of adaptation and ushered in a host of social problems. It also conditioned the shift in the conventional role of schools as the main agents for moulding human behaviour based on ready-made knowledge. The tasks of what to teach, for whom and how became increasingly integrated with the wider network of social agencies, a process not isolated from the rise and developments in the social sciences in shedding light on human behavior and its conditioning factors. The breakdown of barriers and fostering of collaboration between schools and diverse social agencies, the emphasis on integrated curriculum and life-long learning informed by multidisciplinary approaches were but some manifestations of change in which schools came to be seen as embodying the “educational technique of life” rather than a provider of ready information. As Mannheim explicates, in a changing society like ours, only an education for change can help. The latter consists of an undogmatic training of the mind, which enables the persons not to be driven by the current of changing events but to rise above them . . . there must be an informed mind which can discriminate between those genuine elements in the tradition that are still alive and made for emotional stability, and those human attitudes and institutions on the other side which decay because they have lost their function and meaning in a changed society. (Mannheim, 1945: 59) This changing approach to education has become more complex today with unprecedented developments in digital technology and communications that have altered more radically not only the ways in which knowledge and information are produced and disseminated, but the very nature and meaning of their content itself. This bears serious ramifications on teaching and learning as educators warn that much of what is taught will be irrelevant within a shorter time span. Information flow and intersections through borderless networks in which the individual participates through virtual media pose yet another challenge to teaching and learning. Schools today no longer have a monopoly on education as media is gradually producing content and developing applications to serve the information needs of both students and teachers. New enterprises are developing mass-based online learning with far easier access. The introduction of open source and other digital learning systems that allow for participation of thousands of online communities to receive training in sophisticated systems design and other knowledge illustrate the point (Thomas and Brown, 2011; Brown, 2013). School curricula, in response, have been designed to capitalise on information resources and applications which depart from past conventions in which teachers assume explicit knowledge. These developments exacerbate the importance of fostering relevant critical skills and competencies in handling, accessing,

20  Noor Aisha Abdul Rahman making sense of and applying information and knowledge from various information sources. Vibrant debates amongst literacy scholars against educational “technicism” for its overriding emphasis on applying ‘scientific state of the art’ techniques based on centralised standard curriculum and assessments is another manifestation of competing ideas on the need for revaluation of dominant educational pedagogy today. While historians such as Huizinga (1936) had long warned of the dangers of the lack of critical discernment amidst the proliferation of information, the new pedagogy seeks to facilitate critical thinking through the specific medium of texts and discourse. They strongly urge for the development of competencies that enlarge the mind as a value in itself. What is at stake, they contend, is not the techniques of teaching but the kinds of literacy needed for developing awareness in learners in evaluating information.1 The problem is deemed all the more pertinent today given the vulnerable condition of the world and our connectedness. As Luke writing in the context of post-9/11 explicates: what is at stake in literacy education is what we teach people to “do” with texts, intellectually and culturally, socially and politically. Nations, communities, cultures and institutions have always deliberately shaped these practices. We are not exempt nor is our teaching simply a neutral, technical or scientific matter. Our work involves helping kids decide which texts are worth reading and writing, how, where and to what ends and purposes. This is an ethical and social responsibility. (Luke, 2003: 20) The critical literacy movement provides robust critique against the ‘delivery’ approach to education premised on the basis that teaching and learning of texts and language involve imparting information. It contends that written, visual, spoken, multimedia and performance ‘texts’ are not independent or neutral but project power relations. Developing competencies in analysing attitudes, values and beliefs that lie beneath the surface of media is deemed imperative. According to this school of thought, without educating young people to understand the meaning of texts and how they change in varying contexts, how they are appropriated, by whom and for what ends, they will be unable to constructively critique anything they have learned, account for its cultural location, creatively extend or apply it. Bereft of these critical skills, the young will only grow into unquestioning adults incapable of discernment and innovation. Such ideas on literacy are informing curriculum strategies and content towards developing student-centric learning and life-long learners. Media literacy is emerging as one of the core competencies in this new curriculum and educational strategy. The growing contemporary discourse on “deeper learning” is yet another manifestation of developments in pedagogy in the contemporary educational landscape. The fact that knowledge taught may not only be irrelevant but has to be unlearned by the short time students complete formal education places a premium on the development of analytical skills with emphasis on identifying

Challenges to madrasah education 21 and conceptualising problems and ways of solving them rather than on imparting information. The new pedagogy is thus less concerned with providing students with right answers but in developing the capacity for asking relevant questions, learning to be curious, engaging and critical. Creating authentic tasks that connect classroom learning to the real world, providing timely evaluation of assessments, facilitating peer learning and allowing students to continuously revise tasks assigned are some of the major approaches in this “learning based approach” as opposed to the “teaching based” one (Darling-Hammond, 2014). Changes in the condition of education, which extend to teacher training and resource development, institutionalisation of benchmarks for educators that include recruitment, mentoring, professional competency issues and related matters, are part of these changes.2 The imperative for revaluation and reform in teaching and learning today is compounded by the fact that technological communications have facilitated the growth of what Jenkins refers to as participatory culture of learning in which learners not only consume knowledge and information online but simultaneously use media to produce them. One need not only think of Wikipedia as an example of this dynamic form of learning and knowledge creation. According to a study by the Pew Internet and American Life Project, more than half of all teens have created media content and roughly one-third who use the Internet have shared content they produced. In the same vein, Brown maintains that information technology has become a participatory medium giving rise to an environment that is constantly being changed and reshaped by the participation itself: “the more we interact with these informational spaces, the more the environment changes and the very act of finding information reshapes not only the context that gives that information meaning but also the meaning itself” (Thomas and Brown, 2011: 42) This new participatory culture of learning is developing rapidly given its low barriers to participation. It also functions as a hidden curriculum that offers an attractive platform for sharing and creating resources. The need to understand content and how it is appropriated and for whom have thus become crucial, relevant competencies that will enable learners to utilise media ethically and responsibly (Jenkins, 2014).

Madrasah education: background While rethinking the aims and practice of modern education is developing vibrantly, at issue is whether and the extent to which Muslim religious schools, commonly referred to as madrasahs, are connected to and impacted by these developments. Despite some differences in their specific objectives and curriculum from mainstream education, madrasahs are not isolated from the processes of change which have impacted educational perspectives and practice in this interconnected and shrinking global world. The proliferation of massive competing and diverse perspectives and knowledge on religious teachings via traditional and new media pose similar challenges to students. What is taught in these schools and how therefore also impact on the critical competencies of the learners. Like

22  Noor Aisha Abdul Rahman their counterparts in mainstream schools, madrasah students cannot afford to be isolated from new modes of literacy that will enable them to rationally and critically analyse and evaluate the relevance of texts and discourse to the condition and needs of society. Though its importance cannot be underestimated in the light of contemporary developments, the few works on madrasahs that exist reveal a dearth of serious investigation on this dimension. In fact, generally, the madrasah has attracted little research interest until the 9/11 attack when a few of these schools were found to be linked to radical Islamist groups. This discovery as well as the potency of religion in the political agenda of specific interest groups in Muslim communities have strongly conditioned the type of research interest on madrasahs (Evans, 2008; Farish, Sikand and van Bruinessen, 2008). Disproportionate emphasis on the history, tradition of learning and curriculum of the institution recur in existing studies. While undoubtedly useful, critical analyses of the approach and pedagogy of the institution within the framework of contemporary discourse of critical literacy or reforms in educational theory and practice remain wanting.

Traditionalism in the midst of change Generally, research on madrasah education strongly reveals that the institution is isolated from vibrant discourse on reforms in contemporary education. Both in terms of curriculum and the predominant style of teaching and learning, madrasah education distinctly mirrors the traits of traditionalism. As a mode of thought, traditionalism is characterised by the strong “tendency to cling to the past and a fear of innovation” (Mannheim, 1966: 95). In the domain of religion, it is reflected in the unquestioning acceptance of religious beliefs and traditions formulated by savants of the past, transmitted through generations. These are emotively guarded at the expense of critical inquiry. Any attempt at change or innovation will be resisted or opposed to as they are deemed to threaten the certainty and stability of the tradition (Towler, 1984: 82). In the realm of religious education, traditionalism is manifested in the persistence of an undifferentiated curriculum that has remained unchanged since medieval times. Learning centres on books rather on subjects and knowledge is perceived as contained in texts or in the minds of teachers, which had to be acquired and stored up rather than discovered (Rahman, 1989). Generally, the teacher occupies central significance as the deliverer of ready knowledge while students absorb the knowledge transmitted without much questioning. The lack of connectedness or application of knowledge received to concrete contemporary issues and problems are further manifestations of traditionalistic pedagogy. Furthermore, the emphasis on learning by rote and the lack of critical discussions pertaining to received knowledge is another stark trait of this mode of thought (Hoodbhoy, 1992). Traditionalism in this sense must be distinguished from religious tradition to avoid confusion. The latter generally refers to the corpus of values and teachings covering numerous aspects of life formulated by savants of the past. Based on religious scriptures and texts, they shape the worldview of the religious community and

Challenges to madrasah education 23 provide them a sense of identity as a distinct group and basis for response to future challenges. The imprints of traditionalism strongly feature in studies on established and popular pondok in South Thailand and Malaysia and in numerous pesantren in Indonesia. Functioning as boarding schools, they preserve and transmit religious knowledge based on centuries-old texts. Teachers, highly cherished for their piety and knowledge, assume central significance in preserving Islamic knowledge perceived as sacred and immutable. The fact that they have received education in Mecca or other religious institutions abroad and emerge from the local community enhances their prestige and status. In some of the more traditional schools, students are conferred with an ijazah at the end of their education, although this tradition is changing gradually with more formalised education and assessment (Hasan, 1999). Even the style of teaching is reminiscent of the past as teachers continue to transmit knowledge to students in lesson circles (halaqah), some prostrating themselves close to the master. Questions are rarely raised and discussions seldom conducted as a mark of respect for the teacher or to avoid any misunderstanding or irreverence for his scholarship. As Azmi (1993) in his study of an established pondok in Kelantan which is not isolated from others in Malaysia observes, “. . . there are no significant practical opportunities for students to ask questions or test their immediate understanding of the material they sought to learn under a teacher. In other words, the process of learning in the pondok is strictly monotonous.” The author also maintained that the lessons convey the notion that knowledge is fixed as student participation and questioning are minimised, though he conceded that this “inculcates respect, awe and gratitude of students for their teachers” while helping the latter “avoid arrogance of knowledge of scriptures” (Azmi, 1993: 178–188). The predominant emphasis on memorisation provides yet another manifestation of traditionalism. The case of a pondok in South Thailand is by no means exclusive. Here, it was observed that: . . . juniors and seniors always stay up late at night reviewing the subjects and memorising what they have jotted down during the long day. Anyone passing by the pondok during the quiet hours of late evening may hear chanting tones of the sound of oral practice, indicating the learning by rote of some matn [text of a hadith report]. Rote learning and jotting down commentary in the margins or beneath the texts are important features of traditional Muslim learning. (Hasan, 1999: 66) This dominant approach to learning is found in popular religious schools in Malaysia where it has been observed that memorisation occupies an elevated role in the curriculum in the first three years. As a matter of routine, students are required to memorise the lesson they have learned in the day including grammar and other religious texts every night. They also spend hours at dawn to read and memorise their lessons. Apart from these, emphasis is also accorded to

24  Noor Aisha Abdul Rahman mystical dhikr (sessions devoted to remembrance of God consisting of repetition of litanies of a Sufi order which the tok guru [revered religious teacher] is affiliated with) and devotional exercises which are repeated throughout the day (Azmi, 1993). The mode of learning and emphasis on rituals raise concerns over the significance accorded to the development of critical competencies and social awareness in madrasah education. Overriding significance to selected texts written by savants of the past without exposure to plurality of views within the tradition as well as in contemporary times is the norm. Apart from classical Islamic texts in Arabic, the main texts used in the madrasah are the Kitab Jawi, written by scholars from the Malay world and compiled sometime in the late 18th century. Even the teaching of fiqh, a strong component in the curriculum is restricted to transmission of “settled opinions on correct Islamic thought as found in the views of the ulama within the school of law [Shafie]” and Islamic precepts taken solely from accepted handbooks of the Shafie school of law (Hasan, 1999: 17). Furthermore, in a milieu where knowledge is acquired rather than discovered, students are repeatedly questioned by teachers to determine how far they understand the prescribed texts. This mode of teaching has induced some observers to conclude that the content, method and style of pondok education tend to ossify, to become rigid, repetitive and barren. Pedagogically, it starkly departs from approaches advocated in the aims and practice of contemporary education. Studies also reveal that while many pondok have evolved into a more formal system of education, this has not been accompanied by substantive shift in traditionalistic mode of learning. In the madrasahs in Patani for instance, tok gurus are found to assume a watchful attitude over the maintenance of the traditional curriculum and guard the institution against what they perceive as “the perils of modernist education reform” (Hasan, 1999: 125). This implies that religious instruction in the madrasah does not differ substantially from the traditional pondok although students are relatively more competent in reading Arabic books and quoting texts and references given the customary mode of learning by rote. Studies on state-funded madrasahs in Malaysia reveal no substantive difference in mode of learning. Rosnani (1996: 146), for instance, observes that the “system has remained stagnant for some time and does not function well in changing times.” At the primary level, the curriculum focuses solely on reading the Qur’an properly and performing religious worship correctly without “conscious consideration of the need to nourish the pupils intellectually, socially and physically” (ibid: 128). The most frequent instructional methods are reading narrations of stories from the Qur’an and tradition, lectures, dictation of notes and memorisation. The Qur’an is memorised with little, if any, emphasis on understanding the meaning of texts. At the secondary and higher levels, the teaching of law, theology and Arabic involve “traditional and bookish methods resembling the educational methods of traditional medieval schools. They consist of reading, lecture, dictation and memorisation.” In the author’s opinion, the Socratic method is rarely used and the Qur’an, law, history and tradition have to be memorised at great length. Even though the dual curriculum affords the potential for critical

Challenges to madrasah education 25 skill development, she found that “the great influence of the bookish tradition and poor teaching in science caused by lack of facilities and scientific equipment” impedes this prospect. The problem is compounded by the fact that even science is taught by dispensing facts to be memorised for examinations. Hence “the discovery method and thinking skills never get developed” (Rosnani, 1996: 146–152). The traits of the conventional approach were also highlighted in critical evaluation of Singapore’s madrasah education. Long before the system came under national spotlight in the late 1990s in the context of the debates on compulsory education which implicated the madrasahs, its teaching of religion had been critically appraised both in terms of pedagogical approaches and curriculum. The emphasis on rote learning was regarded as a major criteria of achievement especially in Qur’anic studies and the lack of freedom of inquiry were amongst the major limitations that surfaced. The madrasahs were also found to give strong attention to rituals and mysticism at the expense of social philosophy. Even the study of fiqh was found to be centred on the teaching of rules with less consideration for underlying principles and contextual particularity. The extent to which these can facilitate meaningful appreciation of religious teachings for the modern world remains a challenge. Many of these problems persisted decades after they had been identified. For instance, S. H. Alatas, in his capacity as Chairman of the Review Committee on Curriculum for Islamic Religious Education in schools in 1980, had already urged for religious education to be broadened to ensure that Muslims can be made aware of the factors that threaten the well-being of society and derive guidance from religious teachings and values (Berita Harian, October 12, 1980).3 These key features of traditionalism are no less reflected in the discourse on the problems of pesantren generally in Indonesia. Here, the curriculum continues to be based on transmissions from classical Arabic texts and the Kitab Kuning4 in didactic style whereby the student studies a specific text under the authority of a teacher. Learning takes place in study circles around a teacher, who reads the text aloud while students read along with him their own copies of the book. Students seldom offer critical interpretation or comment on texts. Both the teacher and the teachings transmitted are treated with great respect that precludes critical discussion. Love and veneration for the ulama (religious scholar) of the past remain an important part of the pesantren tradition. Where possible one is expected to follow their example especially in legal thought (van Bruinessen, 2008). The predominant mode of teaching and learning in the pesantren has been critically appraised by Indonesian ulama who have themselves emerged from these institutions though their insights have remained marginal. Azhar’s (2006) discussion on the reflections of Nurcholish Madjid, Abdurrahman Wahid and Amin Abdullah is relevant on this point. He pointed out that essentially these scholars’ perspective for revision of the pesantren’s curriculum and pedagogy formed part of their larger discourse on religious reform. In their view, the Kitab Kuning and its traditional fields of knowledge – law, theology, mysticism and Arabic language – are insufficient to equip students with knowledge needed for

26  Noor Aisha Abdul Rahman the complexities of modern life. Overemphasis on historically specific formulations compiled in the Kitab as authoritative sources of guidance for humanity at the expense of their underlying values also received their critical attention. They also contended that the mode of teaching inhibits creativity and that primacy given to the Shafie school of law limits adequate exposure to the rich diversity and dynamism of the Islamic legal tradition which are relevant to legal development. Of concern also is the predominance of the type of Sufi teachings and Ashariite theology that tend to cast doubt on reason and man’s agency while giving overriding importance to intuition and matters of the afterlife. Moreover, the predominance of taklid (blind following of the rulings of ulama of the past) and the emphasis on memorisation were also identified as impediments to inquiry and development of social philosophy (Azhar, 2006). These reflections apply no less to madrasahs in India. A study of madrasahs in Uttar Pradesh where some of the most well established seminaries such as Dar-ul-Uloom of Deoband and Nadwat-ul-Ulama of Lucknow are established illustrates the problem. As Ahmad explicates: there is no denying the fact that these seminaries provide good grounding in Urdu, Arabic and sometimes Persian. But they hardly go beyond these linguistic concerns or the rote and repetitive mode of knowledge. The texts are hidden behind glossy commentaries. The atmosphere is hardly encouraging for the students to go to the texts directly, put them in their social milieu and develop their own understanding by analysis and criticism. The consequence is that they are totally dependent upon what they are taught and develop no independence from their conditioning influences. Ahmad (2000: 1061–1062) The effect is a “false sense of self-sufficiency” amongst graduates who are isolated from the “mainstream of national life” and are “short of skills necessary for living in today’s world.” Reflections of graduates from some of the most established madrasahs in India further attest to the incongruence. A major and consistent concern they highlighted is the overwhelming attention accorded to medieval jurisprudential thought in the curriculum, irrelevant to contemporary conditions of India (Sikand, 2008: 155). The strong bias in the study of fiqh for concepts and rituals was said to be devoid of contextual relevance to significant problems confronting Muslims today such as literacy, poverty, corruption, gender discrimination, violation of human rights and many others (Sikand, 2008: 149). The problem is compounded by the fact that fiqh is approached and perceived as supra temporal without a social frame of reference. This undermines the objective of Islamic law, which is to regulate human relations and deal with disputes based on justice within concrete social contexts. In the words of a scholar and former madrasah graduate: unfortunately fiqh is taught in most madrasah as something timeless and changeless, although it is largely a historical product. So it is as if the same fiqh or jurisprudential responses are applicable for all times, leaving no room

Challenges to madrasah education 27 for ijtihad or creative judicial responses based on individual reasoning and reflection on the primary scriptural sources of Islam. (Sikand, 2008: 99) Although the importance of critical revaluation in teaching and learning of fiqh has been constantly reiterated by prominent Muslim scholars, such competing views are marginalised in the madrasah, in which faithful adherence to past rulings irrespective of their relevance to contemporary society remain central. The problem is exacerbated by the fact that the social sciences are generally not included in teaching and learning of religion. Texts several centuries old continue to be utilised without extraction of basic principles and critical appraisal of ideas from sociological and historical dimensions. Similarly, though many medieval commentaries suffer from the influence of concocted hadith reports and polemical debates, their critical evaluation is discouraged or impaired given the absence of social science perspectives and tools for analysis (Sikand, 2008). Even the teaching of Arabic, which forms a substantive part of the syllabus, centres on memorisation of rules of grammar while ignoring the study of modern Arabic literature. This, as one madrasah graduate pointed out, bred an adverse consequence in that it severed learners from the profound ideas in the enormous corpus of Arabic literary works on religion, nature, society and humanity. Hence students lacked exposure to progressive Arab ideas and remained stuck in the medieval groove of texts written centuries ago (Sikand, 2008). The lack of tolerance and aversion for critical inquiry and diversity of views are not uncommon. As a contemporary leading scholar from a madrasah revealed: the culture of examining, of pondering for oneself, of asking questions and critically examining whatever is passed down in the name of medieval tradition is heavily discouraged in our madrasah. Sometimes, so stern is this opposition that those who question what a certain maulvi (religious scholar) says can be easily branded and condemned as a kafir (infidel) even though he might use perfectly valid Islamic arguments to back his case. So, when we talk of madrasah reforms, we should . . . also raise the issue of reforms of the ways of teaching and thinking in the madrasahs, encouraging the students to reflect on changing social realities and what this means for how fiqh is formulated and understood. (Sikand, 2008: 102) These current critical voices reflect continuities with the views espoused by Indian Muslim scholars of the past on the limitations of educational practice and pedagogy in madrasah education.5

Religious revivalism and its impact While revaluation of madrasah education in the light of contemporary educational discourse and practice has hardly occurred given the predominance of traditionalism, the phenomenon of religious revivalism that emerged in Muslim societies

28  Noor Aisha Abdul Rahman since the mid-20th century has deflected its prospects and compounded the challenge. Though not targeted specifically at the madrasah, its adverse ramifications on the progress of madrasah education cannot be underestimated. Spurred largely by urban groups discontented with development lag in their respective societies, revivalists attribute the crux of the problem to the impact of the West and its secular philosophy. They challenge and reject the existing social and political order which they deem as corrupted by the Western influence and seek to replace it with a radically different system/state based on their imagination of a pristine Islamic past centred on the slogan of Islam as Ad-deen (the perfect and comprehensive religion). A consistent motif in their discourse is the essentialist and irreconcilable binary between Islam and the West, which they caricature as secular, atheistic, relative and responsible for promiscuity and immorality of modern society. An extension of this binary and essentialist framework is the stark dichotomy drawn between Islamic education and secular education. They maintain that secular philosophy has penetrated the basis of values and perspectives of modern sciences and education, which threatens and undermines Islam’s pristine values and teachings and inevitably, the identity of Muslims (Erfan and Valie, 1995: 14). This essentialist framework conditions their attitude towards ideas on modern education as a whole. Based on the premise that modern knowledge is devoid of the fundamental belief in God, revivalists maintain that it must be rejected or Islamised to be applicable to Muslims. They call for radical change to existing objectives, curricula and pedagogy of education and demand the fusion of modern sciences with “Islamic perspectives” to render them acceptable to Muslims. This agenda of Islamising knowledge involves various strategies including textbook writing and rewriting from “Islamic perspective” and infusing teachers with an “Islamic framework”. Their nebulous polemics also extend to formulating “Islamic concepts” for each branch of knowledge, revising curriculum and syllabi on the basis of those concepts and replacing Western social science with “Islamic concepts”. The curricula for natural science, they maintain, should not only revive the spirit of Muslim scientists of the past but must link the sciences to faith. Recitation and memorisation of the Qur’ran forms the basis of all acquired knowledge. These recommendations are to be pursued at all levels of education to safeguard Muslims from the encroachment of the alien Western culture and a defense against ideological deviation resulting from the onslaught of secularism (Erfan and Valie, 1995).6 As Talbani explicates: they argued that education could redirect and reshape the attitudes of Muslim children by shifting their orientation from western to Islamic values. The role of Islam, defined in terms of this worldview and dogma was seen as determining the objectives of education and influencing the educational processes. This, they believed, could be achieved by rejecting current practices coloured by western cultures and ideologies. (Talbani, 1996: 76)

Challenges to madrasah education 29 In their puritan eschatological worldview, the Qur’an and Sunnah have comprehensively provided for the education of Muslims, which, unlike modern knowledge, are infallible. These sources alone, they demand, should form the basis of selection and validation of pedagogical knowledge and concepts, dictate content and govern the evolution of the philosophy of Muslim education. On the contrary, modern knowledge divorced from faith and devoid of moral values is, they claimed, tainted by materialism and arrogance. At most it is only “partial knowledge” or a form of “new ignorance”. The sciences are therefore permitted only if they foster awareness of the “Divine Presence” in the universe. Based on these essentialist presumptions, they sloganise for a revamp of knowledge for the education for Muslims (Erfan and Valie, 1995: 8). Knowledge, in their theological construction, is classified as revealed knowledge (theology, law, metaphysics with Arabic language as medium) and acquired knowledge (sciences which must be taught from an “Islamic perspective”). While the former is fundamental, the latter depends on the needs of society (Erfan and Valie, 1995: 6–8). Though prominent Muslim scholars have long debunked this construction and lashed at it for the decline of the Muslims, revivalists call for their integration to avoid the crisis of disintegration of human personality, which is their caricature of the West.7 Apart from conditioning an adverse attitude towards modern knowledge and education, such discourse deflects attention from the problems of traditionalism that pervade madrasah education. Suspicion, doubt and ambivalence cast modern knowledge as secular with all its ramifications, and the single-minded agenda of rejecting it effectively curtails the prospect of assimilating progressive ideas within current discourse on education/literacy relevant to madrasah revaluation and reform. The binary drawn between Islamic and the evils of Western knowledge hampers constructive interaction and engagement with ideas on modern education that can strengthen madrasah education. Furthermore, the attempt at “integrating” knowledge premised on the vague notion of an “Islamic perspective” is neither constructive nor useful to revaluation of madrasah education. While reforms in education have all along been integrated with actual conditions and needs of society, it is not uncommon to find in revivalist discourse abstract statements on the aim of education that can be of little use to revaluing madrasah education (IIIT, 1989: 3–5). Such discourse bears its imprints on the mission and curriculum of madrasah education since the 1980s. In Singapore, for instance, it is manifested in the aims of some madrasahs which seek to produce scholars with the ability to master al-ilm (knowledge) and “integrate knowledge as well as having the capability to contribute significantly towards the building of the Islamic Ad-Deen” (Noor Aisha and Lai, 2006: 66–67). Implied in the notion of “integrated” knowledge is the teaching of science infused with “Islamic perspective” (Noor Aisha and Lai, 2006: 66–67). The objective closely mirrors that of religious schools in the various states of Malaysia (Rosnani, 1996: 126–152). The effectiveness of these aims in equipping students with relevant knowledge and modes of thought in dealing

30  Noor Aisha Abdul Rahman with concrete challenges in the world they live in remains obscure (Noor Aisha and Lai, 2006). A revivalist, negative caricature of modern/secular knowledge has conditioned the defensive tendency to glorify religious schools without sufficient understanding of their limitations. It has also led to misleading claims and a false sense of security that madrasah education can insulate Muslims against and ward off the ill effects of secular education premised on relativism. Depicting the madrasah as a safe haven for youths has effectively reversed the dwindling attraction to these schools in this region (Hefner, 2009: 69–70). In some instances, this has taken a heavy toll on the students, who are made to believe that they are able to acquire the best of both forms of knowledge within the institution. The rhetoric of the presumed moral failings of modern education has not only shored enrollment, it has also given rise in some cases to yearnings for the revitalisation of religious schools to nourish the spiritual and metaphysical dimensions of life.8 The pondok, for instance, has been glorified for forging continuity in linguistic tradition, transmitting Islamic cultural heritage, developing a proper social life, inculcating religious conduct and preparing Muslims for a life of sincerity and purity compared to mainstream education. Governments are therefore urged to revive them to fill the void of the “soulless” national education systems. Even the emphasis on memorisation has been praised as necessary for mental disciplining (Azmi, 1993: 188–235). Such rhetoric does little to temper the pervasiveness of traditionalism within the institution. It overlooks the crucial challenge of the extent to which the predominant mode of learning in the madrasah can facilitate a sound understanding and application of religious teachings and values to improve the quality of life and well-being of Muslims in the contemporary world. The extent to which such yearnings encourage meaningful engagement with contemporary ideas on the aims and philosophy of education and pedagogical developments is dismal.

The influence of other factors Overwhelming focus on the role of the madrasah in the radicalisation of young Muslims since the attack of 9/11 has further deflected the problem of traditionalism in madrasah education and in a way compounded it (Farish, Sikand and van Bruinessen, 2008). The proliferation of sensationalised writings, statements and speeches within that framework impedes critical examination of the institution from an educational point of view9 (Alam, 2011: 1–9). While even prior to 9/11, serious publication on reform of madrasahs hardly existed, the inundation of such publications has reinforced the dearth of attention from that dimension. Since then, a slew of publications have emerged in response. While generally they debunk unfounded aspersions on the institution’s involvement or deliberate on whether and to what extent madrasah education should be subjected to state control or integrated within the national educational system to prevent it from being hijacked by radical groups for political ends, their discourse on the whole fails to give adequate attention to how this will facilitate educational reform of the institution (Boyle, 2006).

Challenges to madrasah education 31 The dearth of critical discourse on reform in madrasah education is compounded by the attitude of stakeholders of the institution, who tend generally to view such efforts defensively. It is not uncommon to find efforts at revaluation of the madrasahs’ aims and approach refuted with skepticism as hidden ploys or conspiracies to dilute the institution and identity of Muslims. A siege mentality in having one of the few remaining bastions of Islamic institutions critiqued, aggravated in some cases by the politics of communalism as well as ideological considerations of their custodians, fuels such defensive reactions. The justifications for no concessions to the reform of the madrasah curriculum advanced by the Rector of Deoband madrasah provides a classic example of this attitude, which is by no means an isolated one.10 As Sikand (2008) explicates: . . . traditional ulama often see proposals for madrasah reform as interference with, if not an invasion of, what they regard as their own territory. Since their claims to authority as spokesmen for Islam are based on their mastery of certain disciplines and texts, quite naturally any change in the syllabus, such as the introduction of new subjects or new books or the exclusion of existing ones, directly undermines their own claims. Moreover, they fear that the introduction of modern disciplines in the madrasah curriculum might lead to a creeping secularisation of the institution as such as well as tempting their students away from the path of religion and enticing them to the snares of the world. (Farish, Sikand and van Bruinessen, 2008: 34) The fact that the madrasah is perceived as having been perfected by savants of the past also renders revaluing its system of teaching and learning as a sign of weak faith and even worse, as straying from the path that the elders have trodden.

Conclusion Critical studies and discourse on madrasah education, though marginal, constantly reiterate the imperative for revaluation and reform if religious teachings and values are to remain relevant to man and society in contemporary times. Conventional and dogmatic modes of teaching and learning of religion suppress genuine interest in real problems and impair development of critical capacities needed to confront them. How to develop awareness and critical literacy in religious education that can prepare learners to contribute to adapt Muslims to the demands of change remain a major challenge. The lack of rethinking educational approaches and practice in madrasah education among its stakeholders impedes the prospect for creative synthesis between relevant teachings and traditions of the past with the needs and conditions of modern world vital for meaningful adjustment to the changing social condition. It has been asserted that Muslims’ religious life is strongly characterised by the emphasis on rituals as opposed to ethical aspects of religion, individual and personal salvation at the expense of concrete historical problems of life, a lack of emphasis on the importance of

32  Noor Aisha Abdul Rahman universal values in religious teachings, attention to dogmas and practices which are products of past historical epochs (Shaharuddin, 1992). These characteristics cannot be isolated from dominant pedagogy prevalent in madrasah education. Its persistence has adverse repercussions on Muslims and others alike in contemporary pluralistic societies. The emergence of some controversial fatwa enunciated by official religious agencies (the product of madrasah education) in the region in recent years in response to novel scientific inventions, pluralism and sectarianism are but some examples that illustrate the problem even if other ideological factors cannot be overlooked. They reveal exclusivism in religious thought and an uncritical reliance on religious tradition isolated from humanism in Islamic tradition and the modern world as well as complexities of specific socio- historical contexts in which Muslims exist today.11 Apart from discourse on progress in modern education, reform in religious education specifically such as that found in Islamic state universities in Indonesia provides madrasahs with concrete pathways for reflection. Spearheaded by Indonesian scholars who had themselves received their early education from the pesantren, the study of religion in these institutions departs radically from the conventional approach found in religious institutions in the Muslim world generally. Here, religious studies are informed by methodology and concepts grounded in social science theories and perspectives. The aim is to equip students with relevant historical and sociological perspectives necessary for critical awareness and objectivity while avoiding dogma, ideological distortions and other unconscious factors conditioning religious thought so as to facilitate the relevance of religion for life in the real world.12 Madrasahs cannot be isolated from but must keep abreast with such constructive discourse and practice. Such engagement provides prospects for curriculum and pedagogical revaluation and reform within the institution, vital for the well-being of the community and the larger society.

Notes 1 Refer to Castell, Luke and MacLennan (1981), Luke (1991, 2003) and Meier (2002). 2 Read National Institute of Education (2010). 3 Refer also to the discussion in Berita Harian, 16 August 1992 and 23 August 1992. 4 Kitab Kuning is the generic name for religious texts used in traditional centres of Islamic learning in Southeast Asia. 5 Manzoor (1990). For a good critique of madrasah in the past, read Azhar (2006). 6 Read the work by International Institute of Islamic Thought (IIIT) on Islamisation of Knowledge: General Principles and Work Plan (1989). 7 Refer to the critique by Arsalan (1968). 8 Refer to the case of madrasah in Singapore in Noor Aisha (2006). 9 Refer to Alam (2011: 1–9), Farish, Sikand and van Bruinessen (2008). 10 Read the response of rector of Deobandi school on reform in Sikand (2005: 143–145). Read also Singapore’s madrasah stakeholders’ response to compulsory education in Noor Aisha (2006: 78–79). 11 The fatwa passed by the Fatwa Committee in Singapore in 1973 that prohibited organ donation and those passed by Indonesia’s MUI as well as fatwa committees

Challenges to madrasah education 33 of various states in Malaysia on sectarianism illustrate the problem. Read Alatas (1974); Ahmad (2010). 12 Refer to the conversations between Farish A. Noor and the Rectors of Indonesian State Islamic Universities on reform in Islamic higher education in Indonesia (Farish, 2008).

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Challenges to madrasah education 35 Talbani, A. (1996). Pedagogy, power and discourse: Transformation of Islamic education. Comparative Education Review, 40(1), 66–82. Thomas, D., and Brown, J. S. (2011). A New Culture of Learning: Cultivating the Imagination for a World of Constant Change. Lexington, KY: CreateSpace. Towler, R. (1984). The Need for Certainty: A Sociological Study of Conventional Religion. London: Routledge. van Bruinessen, M. (2008). Traditionalist and Islamist pesantrens in contemporary Indonesia. In A. N. Farish, Y. Sikand and M. van Bruinessen (Eds.), The Madrasah in Asia; Political Activism and Transnational Linkages (pp. 217–246). Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press.

2 State, community and madrasah reform in India Arshad Alam

Continuities and discontinuities in the Indian madrasah system One of the important assumptions about madrasahs in India is that they have not changed in terms of their character since their inception. As history informs us, this has never been the case. Moreover, the ‘unchanging’ character has at times also meant that this institution has come to be regarded as an artefact of Islamic culture in India. This, however, is not the case and like all other institutions of society, madrasahs too have evolved over a period of time. It is important to not understand madrasahs as traditional and unchanging but to see them as any other institution which is prone to social changes. There was a distinct shift in the ways in which madrasahs were organised and understood during the medieval and the modern colonial periods. This shift had to do with a redefinition of the aims and objectives of madrasah education which was largely dictated by the changing political context. Starting from Sind and Multan (Arshad, 2005), madrasahs gradually moved to the northern part of the country during the 12th to 16th centuries. Most madrasahs were either established by the rulers or the nobles of the state but were also at times the result of collective endeavours of the Muslim community. Endowments were made to institutions run by the state. Also the state sometimes gave madad-e mash1 grants to scholars to relieve them of their financial worries. Thus the pre-colonial2 madrasahs were unorganised, and even in terms of curriculum, there was hardly any standardisation (Nizami, 1996; Sufi, 1941). The inclusion of books depended on a number of factors such as the personal predilection of a teacher, availability of books and the adherence of a traditional approach or utility in some specific context. There were teachers who were known for their special insights in certain classical works and students came to them to receive education in that particular book and obtained certificate (ijazah), which enabled them to teach that particular book to others. Instruction up to a certain level was in Persian but higher education was always in Arabic (Nizami, 1996). Since education was book-based, madrasahs of this period did not confine themselves only to the teaching of religious subjects. Sciences of the day were also taught by the same madrasahs and those desirous of a career in government or

State, community, madrasah reform in India 37 in the revenue and administration departments often studied in one of the statefunded madrasahs. The first attempt at standardisation of the syllabus was attempted by the Mughal state in the form of Dars e Nizami (Malik, 2008). This syllabus stressed the importance of rational studies such as logic, jurisprudence, philosophy and mathematics. Qur’an and Hadith had a marginal presence in this syllabus. The Qur’an was studied through only two commentaries while Hadith through only one abridgment. Clearly, this kind of curriculum was designed to produce bureaucrats for the courts. Many who studied this curriculum served in the Mughal court and later in the Awadh court. With the decline of these courts due to colonialism, madrasahs teaching this syllabus rapidly declined (Robinson, 2000). Initially the British made use of the Qazis (a Muslim judge to adjudicate on matters of shari’ah) to understand Muslim law and culture to the extent that they established the Calcutta Madrasa in 1781 for the “study of Muhammedan law and such other sciences that were taught at Muhammedan schools” (Khan et al., 2003). However, after the establishment of English as the court language coupled with the encouragement given to missionaries to set up English medium schools, the relative importance of madrasah education started to decline. Moreover, the relative wealth of the Muslim feudal and aristocratic classes had already started to decline, which translated into lesser donations for the establishment and upkeep of madrasahs. It was in this context that Deoband madrasah was established in 1861. Deoband was a new kind of madrasah in the sense that it did not rely on rich patrons for donations; rather it for the first time successfully experimented with the idea of popular financing through subscription. The second important change that Deoband inaugurated was its curriculum. Although it kept calling its syllabus Dars e Nizami, the Deoband version of the curriculum had nothing of the original Dars e Nizami. Instead of an emphasis on the rational sciences, Deoband’s curriculum consisted only of religious or revealed subjects based on the Qur’an and Hadith (Metcalf, 2002). According to the founders of the Deoband madrasah, the Muslims in India had lost power because they were not true to their deen (faith). All that was needed to regain the lost glory of Muslims was to teach them ‘true Islam’ which became the primary objective of Deoband madrasah and other such institutions which were modelled after it. Thus, Deoband for the first time inaugurated the separation of deeni taleem (religious education) from duniyawi taleem (secular education), fundamentally altering the ways in which education was conceptualised in traditional madrasahs. This dichotomous understanding of knowledge still exists and most non-statefunded madrasahs oppose modern education because for them madrasahs are only meant to provide religious education. While scholars have pointed out that such an understanding impeded the growth of Muslim education, it is interesting to note that this understanding itself was a product of colonial logic. The British view of education was governed by their understanding of religion as an aspect of life to be relegated to the private sphere (Asad, 1993). Madrasahs were quick to position themselves as belonging to the ‘private sphere’ of the

38  Arshad Alam Muslim community, which made them somewhat immune to the influences of the modern colonial state. Even today, in debates about madrasah reform, the ulama (religious clerics) oppose any state intervention in the name of defending the private sphere. It is strange indeed that this colonial logic is paraded by the ulama to block reforms of madrasahs. What is even stranger is the fact that many scholars take it to be the authentic expression of Islam in India. This brief historical understanding of madrasahs tells us that it has also undergone changes in its aims, contents and purpose of education. Three important changes took place during the interaction of madrasahs with colonialism and which are present even today. The first had to do with the changing organisation of financial resources: many madrasahs shunned state patronage for the fear of intervention. Secondly, the curriculum became almost exclusively religious in character, which meant that a section of Muslims was losing out on contemporary forms of learning. A combined effect of these two was the change in the very social composition of Muslims who accessed madrasah education. There was a time when madrasah education was accessed by the elite and upper caste (Ashraf) Muslim families as it provided them jobs in the government (Ahmad, 1999). The stress on the religious character of madrasah education meant that upper-class upper caste Muslim families realised that their needs were better served by institutions such as the Aligarh Muslim University, which taught modern education through the English language. The madrasahs on the other hand started catering to the lower-class lower caste (Ajlaf) Muslims, for whom madrasahs provided an important means of any worthwhile learning at all. It will not be an exaggeration to say that madrasahs in India today are predominantly a lower caste Muslim phenomenon.

Madrasahs after independence A substantial number of madrasahs continued to have suspicion of the state even in the post-Independence period and shunned any support whatsoever. Their curriculum and pedagogical methods remained unchanged since the colonial period and they came to be known as azad (independent) madrasahs or simply as deeni madrasahs (religious seminaries). Moreover, the deeni madrasahs are themselves not homogenous and there are deep ideological and doctrinal differences within them. Each claims to represent and defend ‘true’ Islam. Thus the Barelwis, Deobandis, Jamat e Islami Hind and the Ahle Hadees all have their own separate madrasahs in which they educate their students about their interpretation of Islam. It goes without saying that those who do not share their interpretation of Islam are considered deviants and at times even kafir (Alam, 2011). There is no uniformity in their curriculum but most often they are likely to follow some variation of the Deoband syllabus (Sikand, 2005). Most azad madrasahs belonging to different schools of thought have no centralised structure or organisation. Instead, madrasahs are either associated informally with larger madrasahs or with one school of thought or mostly function independently. There are only few madrasahs which are organised under an organisation like the Rabta e Madaris

State, community, madrasah reform in India 39 of Deoband, the Dini Talimi Council in Uttar Pradesh and various sectarian federations of madrasahs in Kerala. To reiterate, the large majority of madrasahs exist outside any such organisation while these organisations themselves operate independent of the state. However, they are not the only madrasahs that make the landscape of madrasah education in India. Apart from the azad madrasahs mentioned above there are those which were either established or are funded by the state in some way. In order to streamline their functioning, madrasah boards have been set up in many states having a substantial Muslim population. Thus states like Bihar, Uttar Pradesh, Madhya Pradesh, Rajasthan and Assam have constituted madrasah boards to streamline the functioning of the madrasahs in these states. In Bihar, the madrasah board was set up in 1982 with powers of supervision and control of madrasahs. In Uttar Pradesh, the Arabi and Farsi Board had been working like an education board for many years. The West Bengal Board has had a long existence since 1973 but has only been active after it was restructured in the last few years. Since education is a state subject, these boards have devised their curriculum keeping in mind the educational curriculum of state schools. Madrasahs controlled by these boards are very different as compared to the azad madrasahs. The curriculum of these board madrasahs is not very different from state schools. Students in these madrasahs learn what other students would learn at the regular government schools. The only difference is that along with the regular school curriculum, board madrasah students also read certain additional texts on Islamic religion and history. Graduation from the board madrasahs entitles them to seek admission in any higher secondary school or college as their certificates are recognised at par with other education boards like the Central Board of Secondary Education (CBSE) or the Bihar or the Uttar Pradesh Education Board. Despite madrasahs being such an important marker of Muslim education, there is no reliable data to ascertain how many madrasahs exist in the country. While figures for the registered or aided madrasahs might be available, it is extremely difficult to get an accurate figure of the unrecognised madrasahs or what are generally called the azad madrasahs. Ostensibly, these madrasahs are established by Muslims for religious purposes but like any other institution in society, religious madrasahs also serve a whole lot of other functions which are not always driven by faith. It is better to understand the growth of these madrasahs through the concept of ‘religious market’ where madrasahs become suppliers of a commodity which is in demand. There is a lot of religious entrepreneurship involved in setting up of these madrasahs and apart from the service of religion, these madrasahs also serve the financial and other interests of individuals who establish these madrasahs. Since there is no financial accountability of these madrasahs as compared to the state-funded madrasahs, the founder of the madrasah often runs the establishment as his personal fiefdom.3 Another reason for the growth of these madrasahs has been the religious competition between different maslak (sects) within the Muslim community. Almost all of these azad madrasahs serve the function of ideological dissemination of their own sect’s interpretation of Islam. Thus the Barelwis, Deobandis and other

40  Arshad Alam sects have their own network of madrasahs spread over the entire country. It is interesting to note that Deobandis were the first to establish their networks but of late Barelwis also have started organising themselves through their network of madrasahs. What fuels this competitive religiosity and the search for ‘converting’ Muslims to their own interpretation of Islam is not just pure faith. Rather it is also linked with the political economy of madrasah education in India. While most of these madrasahs run on private local donations of cash and kind, there is also the greater zakat market in India and abroad which is currently fuelling this competitive religiosity among Muslims. Azad madrasahs are the outgrowth of this competitive religiosity. A statement made by the Union Home Ministry in 2001 indicated that 40,000 million Indian rupees were being channelled annually into religious institutions, including madrasahs through foreign donations (The Hindu, May 19, 2002). In the absence of a comprehensive survey of madrasahs, conflicting figures are provided by different sources for numbers of madrasahs in India. The problem is further complicated by the fact that different sources use different definitions of what a madrasah is, some confining themselves to higher levels of Islamic learning while others include maktab (elementary Islamic schools) as well.4 Thus, according to the Centre for Promotion of Science at the Aligarh Muslim University, in 1985 there were 2,890 madrasahs in the country. A decade later, the Human Resource Development Ministry put the figure at 12,000 (Siddiqui, 1998). In 2002, the Union Minister for Home Affairs claimed that there were around 32,000 madrasahs in the country (Sikand, 2005). According to this figure, most of the madrasahs are located in Uttar Pradesh (10,000) followed by Kerala (9,975), Madhya Pradesh (6,000) and Bihar (3,500). Although the figure claims that both the azad madrasahs and state-funded madrasahs are listed here, yet in all probability, the numbers of azad madrasahs are going to be higher for the simple reason that the government has no record of how many such institutions are in the various states.

The necessity of madrasah reforms Since the emergence of BJP-led Hindu Right politics in the 1990s, the position of madrasahs has become contentious. The Hindutva tirade has tried to position these madrasahs as anti-Hindu and by extension anti-national while defenders of the institution have argued in its defence. The effect of this polarising debate has been that madrasahs have become closely linked to the question of Muslim identity. Any criticism of madrasahs is deemed to be an attack on the already threatened Muslim minority. In the long run, this can only become detrimental to the educational prospects of the Muslim community. There is a sense in which the current state of madrasahs is linked to the educational conditions of Indian Muslims. Various reports have revealed that the Indian Muslims are an educationally backward minority and perhaps madrasah education might have something to do with it. To clarify the point that one is making here, it will be worthwhile to understand the state of education of

State, community, madrasah reform in India 41 Muslims in three of the bigger Indian states of Uttar Pradesh, Bihar and West Bengal. All these three states have substantial Muslim presence. We see that there are certain commonalities when we study the educational situation of Muslims in Uttar Pradesh, West Bengal and Bihar, and some of the predicaments that the community faces might have to do with madrasahs. In all these three states, Muslims are educationally backward as compared to the average state-level indices. In fact, the educational deprivation of Muslims in West Bengal and Uttar Pradesh is even worse than the Scheduled Castes/Scheduled Tribes (SC/ST) (GOI: Prime Minister’s High Level Committee also called Sachar Committee Report, 2006; hereafter SCR). Thus there are more numbers of SC/ST students who are able to complete primary and middle schooling as compared to Muslim students. It is a known fact that the dropout levels among Muslims from primary to middle school remain very high (SCR, 2006) and is one of the important reasons why there are not enough Muslims in higher education and consequently, in terms of representation, in government services. Thus for the state of Bihar while 40.7 percent Muslim children complete primary education, only about 23.7 percent of them make it to middle school, which falls to 16 percent when they reach matriculation. For Uttar Pradesh, while 48.2 percent complete primary schooling, only about 29 percent reach middle school, which further falls to 17.4 percent at the level of matriculation. Similarly, in West Bengal, around 50 percent of Muslim children complete primary schooling, which then falls to 26 percent at the middle school level and further to 12 percent at the matriculation level. Clearly then, Muslim families are unable to retain their children at schools for longer duration of time. While poverty has been cited as a factor for high dropout rates among marginal minorities, it does not answer the question as to why some of the other marginal sections like the SCs have been able to improve their retention in schools over the years. Thus for example the SCs were once far behind the Muslims in all these three states but they have been able to improve their educational access substantially and even rise above the Muslims in two states of Uttar Pradesh and West Bengal in the last 60 years. Clearly then, something other than poverty has to be factored in for this pitiable educational condition of Muslims. Another commonality between the three states is that in terms of madrasahs, they are mostly concentrated at what is called the primary level of madrasah system. Thus in Bihar, 64.4 percent of all madrasah students are concentrated in the primary section while in Uttar Pradesh, an overwhelming 90.4 percent are concentrated at the primary level. Only in West Bengal, Muslim children at the primary level of madrasah education constitute about 31.27 percent but when combined with middle level, they account for over 75 percent of all madrasah students. It must be noted that in many state-funded madrasahs, there is an inordinate burden on the Muslim child to study both the streams of education. Thus apart from their regular state syllabus, they are required to study and pass in theological subjects. This puts too much pressure on children studying in these madrasahs. It has also been found out that in most of these madrasahs, teachers do not have the requisite training to teach modern subjects (Hamdard Education Society, 2003), which means that they lack the ability to engage the students in

42  Arshad Alam any meaningful way. A weak foundation at the primary stage of education might be an important reason for the persistent high dropout rates among Muslims. It should also be mentioned here that purely theological seminaries or azad madrasahs are a parallel system of education to the government schools. This means that Muslim children studying in these madrasahs can never hope to study in a government school and that compounds the educational predicament of Muslims in India. It is therefore of utmost importance that in order to improve Muslim access and retention in education, madrasah reforms must be undertaken at a comprehensive level. The state madrasahs should be made much more accountable in terms of standards and the azad madrasahs or those who teach only theological subjects in the name of providing education have to be reformed. After the publication of Sachar Commission Report, it became commonplace to argue that since only 4 percent of Muslim children access madrasah education, the government should forget about madrasah reform and concentrate instead on establishing more schools in Muslim concentration areas. There can be no argument with opening more schools in Muslim localities. Studies have pointed out the lack of such facilities, especially for girls, and that should be one of the priorities of the state. However, to say that madrasahs do not need reform due to their small numbers and that they are incidental to the educational fate of the community is misleading for the simple reason that the 4 percent figure cited by SCR is wrong and an underestimation. The Sachar Committee never conducted its own survey on madrasahs. Its data on madrasahs came from the various state madrasah boards and more importantly from the seventh all-India school survey conducted by the National Council for Education Research and Training (NCERT). If one looks at the NCERT data, it mentions two kinds of madrasahs: those that follow the system of general education (basically madrasahs controlled by various state boards) and those that do not follow the system of general education (basically madrasahs that have their own curriculum and system of funding). The SCR has counted only one kind of madrasahs to arrive at their erroneous figure of 4 percent. They have not counted those madrasahs – and the students therein – that are not controlled by various madrasah boards. According to the NCERT figures, their numbers are much more than the state-controlled ones. Thus the total number of madrasahs who do not follow the system of general education is 11,523. The number of students studying in these madrasahs is about 1.37 million. On the other hand, those who follow the system of general education number 20,435 with a combined student strength of around 0.8 million. If we total this figure then according to NCERT, there are more than 2 million students studying in these madrasahs, which is almost double the figure of nearly 1 million students provided in the SCR. Moreover, the NCERT data also gives the enrollment figures at maktab, which is around 0.76 million (NCERT, 2006), which somehow does not figure in the SCR at all. Let us recall once again the student spread in these madrasahs. The total enrollment in madrasahs and maktab combined, according to the NCERT data is nearly 2.76 million. Almost 70 percent of this student population is concentrated

State, community, madrasah reform in India 43 at the primary level, and within this, an overwhelming majority of students are not studying the government-approved curriculum. This directly impacts on the performance of Muslim students in schools, which remains poor and shows startling dropout rates. It is imperative to recognise therefore, that madrasahs could play a crucial role in alleviating the precarious educational condition of Muslims. The state response has been piecemeal and half-hearted. While the outlay has been low, modern subjects have been added haphazardly with little consideration of whether the students would be able to cope with the additional information or not. What is required is a comprehensive reform of the madrasah education system with an aim to make it relevant to the needs of contemporary Muslim society. Sections within the Muslim society have been advocating the need for such a reform for a long time. It is the responsibility of the state to listen to these voices. Unfortunately, the government still thinks that it is the ulama who are the sole custodians of Muslims in India.

State-led modernisation In order to modernise the madrasah system of education, primarily with the aim of introducing modern subjects in the curriculum of deeni madrasahs, the state has attempted to intervene through various policies from time to time. The centrally sponsored Area Intensive and Madrasa Modernisation Program (now called Scheme for Providing Quality Education in Madrasas, SPQEM) was the first intervention in this regard. Starting in 1993, this programme gives financial and infrastructural grants to madrasahs to include modern subjects in the syllabus. The programme also gives financial aid for recruiting teachers who could teach those subjects. The programme has now been brought under the purview of Sarva Sikhsha Abhiyan (SSA). It is a voluntary scheme and madrasahs are expected to apply for assistance. However, only registered madrasahs which have been in existence for three years are eligible to apply for this assistance. Clearly, the programme is specifically designed for azad madrasahs, who teach nothing else apart from religion. Till 2006, 4,694 madrasahs were provided assistance under the scheme. The SSA also gives incentives under its Alternative and Innovative Education scheme to state governments to provide free textbooks and other facilities to unrecognised5 madrasahs. Madrasahs in 99 districts in 16 states have been identified for focused attention, with Bihar, Uttar Pradesh, Assam and West Bengal being the major beneficiaries of this scheme. In the year 2005–06 about 3,500 unrecognised madrasahs received support under this programme (Nair, 2009). The madrasah modernisation programme did not meet with much enthusiasm from within the Muslim community. Since this was meant mostly for those madrasahs teaching only Islamic education, fears of intervention and undue interference in their ‘private’ affairs became the standard defense of those who were opposed to any kind of modernisation at all. Leaders like Syed Shahabuddin argued that the madrasah modernising programme of the state was the proof of distrust that it (the state) harboured against the Muslim community. He was ably

44  Arshad Alam supported by the now deceased Principal of Deoband, Marghoobur Rahman, who said that madrasahs were in no need of reform whatsoever (Sikand, 2004). The bigger problem, however, was perhaps the very half-hearted attempt of the state itself. How else does one understand the reason behind the very low budget which was allocated to this program? Thus in the Ninth Five-Year Plan, the total budget for Modernisation of Madrasas Program was a meager 916.5 million rupees. However, the amount actually provided was only 480 million. And to top it all, the total amount released did not exceed 160 million (Hamdard Education Society, 2003). While the total allocation in the Tenth Plan went up to 1060 million, nearly 75 percent of all disbursements went toward infrastructural development. Such low allocation reflects a lack of serious intent on the part of the state and is also a pointer to the fact that there is hardly any pressure from within the Muslim community to make the state more accountable to improving the educational conditions of Muslims. While the low disbursement coupled with lack of enthusiasm has been one part of the problem, the other has been the haphazard manner in which the programme itself has been implemented. Thus in Uttar Pradesh, while additional subjects had been introduced, the time table itself was not rationalised to accommodate these subjects. There was absolute lack of competence of the existing teachers to handle these additional subjects, which reflects the lack of basic training which the programme ignored. Besides, salaries to teachers were not only inadequate but also irregular (Hamdard Education Society, 2003). The Report of the Hamdard Education Society also highlighted the need for the setting up of a Central Madrasa Board through which efforts at modernisation of madrasahs could be streamlined. This idea was taken up towards the end of 2006, when the Human Resource Development Ministry, under the recommendation of the National Commission for Minority Educational Institutions (NCMEI), proposed the setting up of the Central Madrasa Education Board. The proposed Board was to coordinate and standardise madrasah system while mainstreaming into the regular system. The commission recommended that remedial initiatives should be taken by the states on an urgent basis with the most critical task being modernising and upgrading madrasah education. The NCMEI report categorically states that “these madrasas form a parallel education system which completely blocks the road of economic growth and prosperity for Muslims who opt for it.” Aware of the backlash that it might have to face the, the report points out that ‘some of the clerics want madrasahs to flourish on account of their own vested interests.” It categorically states that “madrasas have had the lamentable effect of keeping the downtrodden segment of the Muslim community ignorant and exploited by the privileged” (NCMEI, 2009: 5). Subsequently the NCMEI also drafted a Central Madrasas Board Bill in 2009 which so far has not become an Act. The Bill provides for a central madrasah board which will have representatives from almost all Muslim sects and Muslim experts on education. Apart from the powers of affiliating madrasahs, the board will have the mandate to standardise all non-theological contents of the madrasah curriculum. Moreover, this board will also be the chief financial regulatory

State, community, madrasah reform in India 45 authority for madrasahs all over India and will have the powers to review the proper functioning of any madrasah which seeks to affiliate itself to the board through timely inspection and supervision (NCMEI, 2009). It is important to note that NCMEI had recommended that affiliation to the board will be optional, which means only those madrasahs will come into the suzerainty of the board who have voluntarily agreed to do so. Since many madrasahs harbour suspicion against the state and its agenda of modernisation, this clause may become the reason for many madrasahs to opt out of the board. Although it is too early to say what impact this might have once the Bill becomes an Act, one can say that not too many azad madrasahs are interested in getting themselves enlisted with the board. As argued above, azad madrasahs are primarily theological seminaries with a mandate to disseminate a particular interpretation of Islam. The dissemination of their Islamic worldview is most important to them and it does not matter if they are deemed to be traditional. Secondly, as the NCMEI report itself notes, the founders of these madrasahs have developed a vested interest in perpetuating the system which they operate without any financial accountability either to the community or the state. In such a state of affairs, it does not make sense to surrender their autonomy to the state and become part of the envisioned madrasah board. But there is another problem. And that has to do with two very conflicting ideas of reform towards which we now turn.

Madrasahs and their understanding of reform It will not be true if one says that madrasahs, especially the independent ones, are opposed to reform. These madrasahs themselves have their agenda of reform and many of them call themselves as islahi (reformist). Their opposition is to the state-led agenda of reform which they characterise as anti-Islamic and primarily designed to lead the Muslims away from the Islamic faith. So what is the madrasahs’ understanding of reform and what does it entail? Generally, Islamic reformism has been understood as a process of return to the fundamentals of true religion, to purify it and to rid it of what are seen as harmful or non-essential accretions. Islamic reform calls for the obliteration of various customary practices which are deemed to be un-Islamic or Hindu in terms of their origins in the Indian context. In short, Islam becomes the master frame through which all acts are sought to be legitimated and understood. However, in the absence of any consensus on what a pure Islam implies, Islamic reformism in India offers a wide variety of orientations, each in contest with other interpretations of Islam. Thus in India, the Deobandis, the Ahle Hadis, the Jamat e Islami and the Barelwis all operate with their own idea of pure Islam. Within these interpretive communities (maslak), there are regimes of Islamic reform and all of them call themselves reformists, by which they mean they are purifying Islam by purging accretions that have crept into it. Thus, all these maslak have their own network of madrasahs through which they seek to reform Muslims by teaching them ‘correct’ Islamic beliefs and practices. Moreover, they operate with a distinct purpose of Islamic education which is substantially different from the purposes of state-led secular

46  Arshad Alam education. This idea of reform starts with the individual Muslim child and the objective of this reform is not to just inculcate Islamic values within the Muslim child but to make him/her a better person, which is again understood as the function of Islamic education. Madrasahs argue that secular or modern education that the state provides is not only un-Islamic but also destructive in the long run since they do not impart any value which might make the student into a better person. Thus, despite the state and Muslim reformists’ cry that madrasahs are in dire need of ‘reform’, madrasahs claim that they are reformists par excellence. Their idea of reform is not just to enable a talib (student) to compete in the job market, but the transformation of his personality into safir (ambassadors) of Islam. In the majority of cases, families who send their children to madrasahs are poor, semi or non-literate and low caste Muslims. Staff and teachers of madrasahs regard the students coming from such low-class families as uncultured (be-adab). They state that these students do not know how to converse politely and pay respect to their elders. Teachers in these madrasahs also argue that before these students came to the madrasahs, they even lacked a sense of cleanliness and personal hygiene. For them, education in a madrasah was not just about acquiring knowledge (ilm), but to also learn proper ways of behaviour and Islamic etiquette (tarbiyah). The madrasahs thus see themselves as the custodians of a ‘civilising mission’, which intends to transform be-adab students into ‘cultured’ (ba-adab) students. One of the important criticisms that madrasahs level against the modern/English schools is that they focus solely on transmitting knowledge as a result of which students do not learn ‘proper’ ways of behaviour. Not unsurprisingly, students themselves shared such an understanding of the madrasah authorities. Very often they state that they were jahil (ignorant) and given to bodily pleasures when they were at home. It was only after coming to the madrasah that they became ‘civilised’. In discourses about madrasah education, it is often argued that it does not equip its students with modern education, which hampers their life chances. Madrasahs therefore are exhorted to ‘reform’ themselves, which basically means that they teach ‘modern’ subjects to their students. Contrary to this, almost all madrasahs see themselves as reformists. For them reform means not only educating Muslim children but educating them in the ‘right’ way.6 Thus the madrasahs and the state operate with very different ideas of what constitutes reform. For the state, reform essentially means adding modern subjects like science, mathematics and English to the religious curriculum of madrasahs. Through the introduction of these subjects, the state hopes that madrasah graduates will be able to operate in the modern setting and become productive as the chances of their employability will increase. However, as we have seen above, the state-led reformism can only be described as half-hearted at best. There has been no concerted effort to forge a dialogue between different stakeholders of various madrasahs; nor has the creation of a central implementing agency been thought about. All this leads to the impression that the state agenda of reform is a mere rhetoric and that perhaps even they are not convinced of their own reformist project. For the madrasahs, reform means a very different thing: it definitely does not mean the addition of modern subjects as for them this constitutes a dilution

State, community, madrasah reform in India 47 of Islamic content of the curriculum. Moreover, their reformism is much broader in the sense that they want to transform ordinary Muslims into what Clifford Geertz (1968) would have called “scriptural Muslims”. The creation of personally responsible Muslims is a larger project for the madrasahs within which issues of employability of its graduates hardly figure since the purpose of education is entirely different. Thus between the state and madrasahs’ understanding of reform, whether there ever will be a middle ground is open to question. In the meantime, the educational futures of millions of Muslim children who study in these madrasahs seem to be headed nowhere.

Notes 1 Madad e Mash grant was given to scholars or institutions for the services rendered to the community in general. It was also a tool for controlling the ulama (religious clerics) as it could be withdrawn anytime if it went against the interests of the emperor. 2 For the purposes of this paper, madrasahs before 1857 are referred as pre-colonial while those which were established after 1857 are referred as colonial or new madrasahs. The demarcation is because of the establishment of the madrasah at Deoband in 1867, which fundamentally altered the ways in which madrasahs were organised as well as conceptualised. 3 This is not to suggest that all azad madrasahs are run for profit motive. There are many such madrasahs who survive in penury but are committed to the service of spreading Islamic education. However, it would not be an overstatement to say that they are few and far between. Moreover, Muslims themselves complain about the malpractices within these madrasahs. 4 As used in the present paper, madrasahs are understood as centres of higher learning. It is different from maktab, which is mostly for elementary religious education. Most children studying in maktab can access schools simultaneously whereas a madrasah student would not be able to do so. 5 Unrecognised madrasahs are those which are not recognised by any of the Madrasah boards. The curriculum of these unrecognised madrasahs are not regulated and often only teach subjects related to religion. 6 For details see, Alam (2011).

References Ahmad, A. (1999). Studies in Islamic Culture in Indian Environment. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Alam, A. (2011). Inside a Madrasa: Knowledge, Power and Islamic Identity in India. New Delhi: Routledge. Arshad, M. (2005). Tradition of Madrasa education. In A. Wasey (Ed.), Madrasas in India: Trying to be Relevant. New Delhi: Global Media Publications. Asad, T. (1993). Genealogies of Religion: Discipline and Reasons of Power in Christianity and Islam. Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press. Geertz, C. (1968). Islam Observed: Religious Developments in Morocco and Indonesia. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Government of India. (2006). Social, economic and educational status of the Muslim community of India: A report. Prime Minister’s High Level Committee: GOI (Sachar Committee Report).

48  Arshad Alam Hamdard Education Society. (2003). Evaluation Report on Modernization of Madrasa Scheme (UP). New Delhi: HES. The Hindu. (2002, May 19). Be vigilant while registering Madrasas, state governments told. Bangalore. Khan, A. U., Saqib, M., and Anjum, Z. H. (2003). Madrasa system in India: Past, present and future. Retrieved from www.indiachinacentre.org/bazarchintan/pdfs/ madrasas.pdf Malik, J. (2008). Islam in South Asia: A Short History. Leiden: Brill. Metcalf, B. D. (2002). Islamic Revival in British India: Deoband, 1860–1900. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Nair, P. (2009). The state and Madrasas in India. Working Paper 15, DFID. Retrieved from www.dfid.gov.uk/r4d/PDF/Outputs/ReligionDev_RPC/WP15.pdf National Council for Minority Educational Institutions. (2009). The Central Madrasa Board Bill 2009. New Delhi: NCMEI. Retrieved from http://ncmei.gov.in/writer eaddata/filelinks/4ab9bf26_Output1.pdf National Council for Education, Training and Research. (2006). 7th All India School Education Survey. New Delhi: NCERT. Nizami, K. A. (1996). Development of Muslim educational system in medieval India. Islamic Culture, 70(4), 27–54. Robinson, F. (2000). Islam and Muslim History in South Asia. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Siddiqui, M. A. (1998). Developments and trends in Madrasa education. In A. W. B. Qadri, R. S. Khan and M. A. Siddiqui (Eds.), Education and Muslims in India Since Independence (pp. 72–87). New Delhi: Institute of Objective Studies. Sikand, Y. (2004). Reforming the Indian Madrasas: Contemporary Muslim voices. In S. P. Limaye, R. Wirsing and M. Malik (Eds.), Religious Radicalism and Security in South Asia (pp. 117–143). Honululu, HI: Asia Pacific Centre for Security Studies. Sikand, Y. (2005). Bastions of the Believers: Madrasas and Islamic Education in India. New Delhi: Penguin. Sufi, G. M. D. (1941). al Minhaj: Being the Evolution of Curriculum in the Muslim Educational Institutions of India. New Delhi: Idarah-i Adabiyat-i Delli.

3 Resistance to reform? Pakistani madaris in historical and political perspective Christopher Candland Introduction Several times over the past two decades, the Pakistani government has announced that it would close any madrasah (Islamic seminary) that failed to register with the government.1 Several thousand madaris (plural of madrasah in Arabic) have refused to do so. In 2001 and 2002, the government announced that it would create thousands of government madaris to serve as examples of how an Islamic seminary education could promote what President Pervez Musharraf termed “enlightened moderation”.2 As it turned out, the government created only three Model Dini Madaris (Model Religious Seminaries). No madrasah educator is known to have imitated the Model Dini Madaris curriculum. Why have administrators and educators of Pakistan’s madaris opposed regulation? Why have administrators and educators of Pakistan’s madaris ignored government incentives for curricular reform? There has been much policy-oriented literature, especially from research centres based in the United States and Europe, arguing that madrasah education in Pakistan needs reform. And there has been much money, especially from government agencies and from non-governmental organisations in the United States and in Europe, spent on madrasah reform. The attention and funding makes it especially intriguing that government-led madrasah reforms have failed thoroughly, and help to explain some of the current resistance to governmentdirected reform from madrasah students and educators. In this essay, I place government-directed madrasah reform efforts in historical and political context. Most reporting and policy-oriented writing on madaris and madrasah reform in Pakistan is ahistorical. Government efforts to make private religious institutions into instruments of government, however, have a long history in British India and in the identities of many in Pakistan today. Much of the contemporary resistance to madrasah reform by the inhabitants and supporters of madrasah education in Pakistan dates to British imperial rule. After the British suppression of the mutiny of 1857, the madaris became an important source for resistance to British cultural imperialism. Some of the resistance to ­government-sponsored madrasah reform dates to governance after ‘independence’ in August 1947. In the 1950s and 1960s, the government’s nationalisation

50  Christopher Candland and mismanagement of awqaf (trusts) and dargah (shrines) made madrasah educators deeply suspicious of state intrusion in the madrasah sector. I trace the present obstacle to government-led improvements in madrasah education to the deep distrust between madrasah educators and government administrators of religious education. More than 150 years of British imperial government attempts at control of the madrasah sector buttress madrasah educators’ current distrust. Most discussion of madrasah reform is also apolitical. The Pakistani government’s efforts to modernise and demilitarise madaris seem destined to fail not only because many of the people who support and rely on madrasah education regard the government as culturally alien but also because the madrasah sector is very diverse, theologically and politically. I explain how Pakistan’s governments have limited their own ability to shape private social institutions, such as private religious education. I suggest that the madrasah sector represents to its inhabitants not only a traditional religious sector that should be protected from modern secular forces, but also a public good that no government – as government relies ultimately on force and the threat of force – can possibly create. I argue that many madrasah educators see the Pakistani madrasah as an institution, encouraged by the Qur’an (God’s recitation to the Prophet Mohammad) and Hadith (the Prophet’s expressions), that is intended for the public good but that can only be produced privately by those with faith and not by the government. It is a kind of public good that is not made intelligible by the division of the social world into a private sphere and a public sphere. Yet this dichotomy drives the logic of the advocates of government-led madrasah reform. We begin with a brief overview of the complex, diverse and changing madrasah sector.

The Pakistani madrasah3 The Islamic educational institutions, commonly referred to as madaris, were designed to impart knowledge of Islam to a younger generation of future ulama (Islamic scholars). A graduate of a madrasah could go on to study in and graduate from a darul uloom or, at a higher level, a jamia. Such institutions correspond approximately to the stages of education in schools referred to as primary and secondary (madaris), college (darul uloom) and university (jamia). The age of students in madaris typically runs from six through sixteen years. Children below the age of 12 are typically non-residential students. Some in Pakistan refer to Islamic seminaries as deeni madaris to distinguish them from Western-styled government and private schools, which were introduced under British rule. Deen refers to faith. Thus, the Urdu word deeni might be translated as ‘religious’. For study beyond the 10 years offered by the madaris, one would attend a darul uloom (literally, an abode of knowledge), for grades 11 and 12. The darul uloom, then, is at equivalent years of schooling as upper secondary schools or sixth form colleges in the British system. For study beyond the darul uloom, one would attend a jamia (see Table 3.1).

Resistance to reform? 51 Table 3.1 Islamic seminaries: degrees, age of student, and school equivalence Seminaries and degrees Madrasah shahadah al-ibtidaiyyah shahadah al-mutawassitah shahadah al-thaniyyah al-ammah Darul uloom shahadah al-thaniyyah al-khassah shahadah al-aliyyah Jamia shahadah al-alamiyyah

Years of study

School equivalence

5 3 2  

primary middle matriculation (matric)

2 2  

F.A. B.A.

2

M.A.

Note: Since 1982, the government of Pakistan has recognised the shahadah al-alamiyyah degree as equivalent to MA degrees in both Arabic and Islamic studies.

I do not refer to madaris as ‘Islamic boarding schools’ or ‘madrasah schools’ as some scholars do because madaris are not understood in Pakistan to be schools. In Pakistan parlance, a school (known in Urdu as an iskool) is an educational institution run according to ‘Western’ standards, with classes separated by age, examinations to determine whether one graduates to the next year’s class, and government accreditation on successful completion. An iskool can be private or public. If one were to ask a madrasah student whether he attends a school, he might answer that he does not attend a school but rather attends a madrasah. Further, the term ‘Islamic school’ as a translation for madrasah is misleading because there are Islamic boarding schools – such as the Deobandi Iqra schools and the Jamaat-i-Islami Ghazali and Green Crescent Trust schools – that are not madaris but rather private schools using the government or the Cambridge/ Oxford curriculum infused with the Islamic perspectives of the political parties that run these schools. Madaris are an integral part of education in Pakistan. Madaris have reached a large sector of the Pakistani public with little government support and modest funding from the public. They have educated this neglected population, however, largely within a maslaki (denominational) tradition and have not inculcated moderation and tolerance. This sectarian orientation is not entirely the fault of the madrasah educators. Pakistani governments require registered madaris to affiliate with a maslaki organisation and thereby discourage non-maslaki education. Madaris are divided by masalak and some are militant. But this is not the product of an Islamic approach to education but of the sectarian and militaristic policies of General Zia ul Haq and his domestic and international supporters (Baxter, 1985). The Pakistani madrasah has only recently assumed its present form. In 1977, there were a couple hundred madaris in Pakistan registered with the madrasah boards (Malik, 1996). By 1988, there were more than 2,800 madaris registered

52  Christopher Candland with one of the five madrasah boards (Islamic Education Research Cell, 1988, cited in Rahman, 2004). Most madaris were established during the term of General Zia ul Haq as Chief Martial Law Administrator and President (from 1977 to 1988), many with encouragement and financial assistance from foreign allies. The number of madaris doubled every three years under Zia’s rule. From 1978 to 1988, the governments of the United States, Saudi Arabia and Kuwait, among others, poured hundreds of millions of US dollars and weapons into Pakistan, much of it through madaris, and used many madrasah students, many of them refugees from Afghanistan, to fight a proxy war in Afghanistan against the Soviet Army.4 The US government also supplied texts to madaris glorifying violence in the name of Islam (Stephens and Ottaway, 2002; Puri, 2010). Since the withdrawal of Soviet troops from Afghanistan in 1989, the madaris were transformed again. Madaris have become a major source of welfare for poorer children and orphans and for their parents.5 There are five boards (wiqafha) that oversee the institutions of Islamic education in their respective ‘denomination’ or ‘school’ of Islamic thought: Ahli-­ Hadith, Brelvi, Deobandi, Jamaat-ul-Islami and Shia (see Table 3.2). The Deobandi board, which administers most Pakistani madaris, might be characterised as conservative in that it aims to preserve and defend the Dars-i-Nizami curriculum developed in India by Mullah Nisam-ud-Din Sehalvi. The Brelvi board is Sufi or devotional in orientation. The Ahl-i-Hadith board is characterised as Salafi or Wahabian in orientation; many followers are attracted by the commitment to avoid corrupting innovations (bid’ah) in Islam through reliance on the Qur’an and Hadith not on legal or scholarly writings since the death of the Prophet Mohammad. The Jamaat-i-Islami board might be characterised as revivalist in that it is inspired by the project of recreating the society of the Prophet’s Medina. With the exception of the Rabta-tul-Madaris-al-Islamia, the Jamaat-i-Islami board, each board was established in the late 1950s. The Rabta-tul-Madarisal-Islamia was established in 1983, under the patronage of President and Chief Martial Law Administrator General Zia ul Haq. The Deobandi Wafaq-ul-Madaris Al-Arabia and the Shia Wafaq-ul-Madaris Al-Shia was established in 1959; and the Brelvi Tanzeem-ul-Madaris Ahl-i-Sunna-wal-Jamaat was established in 1960. These were the direct responses to the government’s intervention in the madrasah sector.6 Table 3.2 Ittihad Tanzeemat Madaris Pakistan Wafaq

Maslak, year established

Wafaq-ul-Madaris Al-Salafia Wafaq-ul-Madaris Al-Arabia Wafaq-ul-Madaris Al-Shia Tanzeem-ul-Madaris Ahl-i-Sunna-wal-Jamaat Rabita-ul-Madaris Al-Islamia

Ahl-i-Hadith, 1955 Deobandi, 1959 Shia, 1959 Brelvi, 1960 Jamaat-i-Islami, 1983

Note: Ittihad refers to an alliance, assembly or union. A tanzeem is a discipline or an organisation; tanzeemat is the plural of tanzeem; a wafaq is a board; a maslak is a denomination.

Resistance to reform? 53 Each board determines the curriculum of the seminaries that are registered with that board, provides examination questions, grades examinations and issues graduation certificates and diplomas. There are approximately 14,000 seminaries registered with these five boards. Probably an equal number do not register. Roughly 70 percent of those that are registered are Deobandi, 16 percent are Brelvi, 5 percent are Jamaat-i-Islami, 4 percent Ahl-i-Hadith and 3 percent Shia. The Deobandi Wafaq-ul-Madaris Al-Arabia also oversees several thousand Iqra schools. The Jamaat-i-Islami Rabita-ul-Madaris Al-Islamia oversees several thousand Ghazali and Green Crescent Trust schools. The wiqafha of the other three masalak do not run private schools. The Deobandi seminaries are larger in relationship to their numbers in the population in part because a Deobandi education is designed to defend Islamic learning and the Hanafi fiqh and in part because Deobandi madaris were patronised by General Zia ul Haq during the operations against Soviet forces in Afghanistan. In the last decade of the 20th century, the fastest-growing Sunni madaris seemed to be those of the well-patronised Jamaat-iIslami (Rahman, 2004). In the first two decades of the 21st century, it is alleged to be those of the Ahl-i-Hadith. The differences between these orientations will be explained briefly below. How many Pakistani students study in a madrasah? And what percentage of total school enrollment does that represent? Madrasah enrollments estimates are contested. Estimates of madrasah enrollments range from fewer than half a million to more than two million. Because national school enrollments vary as well, estimates of the percentage of students studying in madrasah vary even more widely, from fewer than 1 percent to as much as 33 percent of the school-going population. The range of estimates and the bases for these estimates are themselves important pieces of evidence about the role of the madaris in Pakistani society and about scholarship on madaris. The wide range of estimates indicates that those writing on the sector generally have a very weak understanding of the basic dimensions of that sector. The differing statistical bases for these estimates indicate that some commentators dismiss data that others regard as convincing. In 2005, a World Bank–funded study estimated that there were fewer than 475,000 madrasah students and that fewer than 1 percent of the secondary school–going population attends a madrasah (Andrabi et al., 2005).7 The attempt to ground the widely ranging estimates of madrasah enrollments in verifiable data is laudable. The assumptions used for the World Bank–funded study, however, were problematic. The report was based, in part, on a national census and national household surveys, none of which were designed to gauge madrasah enrollment. Indeed, the national census did not ask about children’s schooling or madrasah attendance. It asked nothing about children’s education; it asked adults about their ‘field of education’. The authors take the answer ‘religious education’ to mean madrasah education. In their own survey, the authors found three times the proportion in their survey of three districts of students in madrasah than is estimated by the national census and the household surveys. Yet their survey was restricted to areas served by public schools and was thus unrepresentative

54  Christopher Candland of Pakistan as a whole. Further, the extrapolation, that fewer than 1 percent of Pakistani primary-aged students attend madaris, is based on the statistic that 19 million students are enrolled in private and public schools. However, that enrollment figure is based on attendance at the first day of the school year; half of these children drop out before reaching the fifth grade. Thus, their overestimate of public school enrollment underestimates madrasah enrollment. Finally, the report conflates a madrasah education with an education in religious schools, as suggested by the title of the report. This leads to problems with interpretation of the data, as will be discussed below. For estimates of madrasah enrollment, establishment-based surveys focused on madrasah enrollment are more useful than statistical manipulation of household surveys that are not concerned with madrasah enrollment. Pakistani police and officials in the Ministries of Education and Religious Affairs conduct establishment surveys of madrasah enrollments. These count the number of students in madaris, rather than estimate enrollments from household responses. By these estimates, between 1.7 and 1.9 million students in Pakistan are educated in madaris. The former estimate comes from the former Minister of Religious Affairs, Mahmood Ahmed Ghazi (International Crisis Group, 2002). The latter estimate comes from Pakistani police. A number of registered madaris supports these estimates. More than 10,000 madaris are registered with the government. At least that many are thought to operate without registration. A typical madrasah will educate more than 100 children. Thus, the official establishment surveys’ estimate of nearly 2 million madaris students is not unrealistic. An estimate of fewer than 500,000 is. Such an estimate would give an average of only 25 students in each madrasah. A reasonable estimate of madaris enrollment, provided by Cockroft, Andersson, Milne, Omar, Ansari, Khan and Chaudhury, is that, in 2004, 3.8 percent of school-going students from ages five to nine attended a madrasah full time (Cockcroft et al., 2009). Much of the journalist and ‘think tank’ reporting on South Asian madaris is concerned either with whether a madrasah education promotes violence or with whether a madaris education is adequate for employment and life in the modern world. Accordingly, that reporting suggests that the madrasah should be demilitarised and be modernised. Here we take up each recommendation in turn briefly, before turning to the main arguments related to the history of Pakistan madrasah reforms, the nature of the Pakistani state and the place of the madaris sector in Pakistani society.

Madaris’ ‘demilitarisation’ The dominant strain of writing advocating madrasah reform is published by policyoriented centres (e.g., Haqqani, 2009). That analysis focuses on the security threats emanating from Pakistani madaris. The latest report of the International Crisis Group on Pakistan, for example, claims that “progress against terrorism, including countering radicalisation and recruitment, is contingent on regulating the madaris sector” (International Crisis Group, 2015: 11). Disparaging

Resistance to reform? 55 reference to ‘mullah’ suggests an uninformed bias. Policy-oriented researchers recommend the ‘demilitarisation’ of madaris. Most madaris  do not encourage students to engage in violence, at least no more than other schools do. Those madaris that are recruitment grounds from militants are few and well known. Arguing that madaris create militancy is similar to arguing that US college fraternities create rapists. Many members of US college fraternities have been convicted of rape; and some US college fraternities do seem to promote a culture of misogyny. But, arguing that fraternities create rapists is misleading because it does not distinguish between those fraternities that do and those fraternities that do not. Moreover, to argue with evidence that madaris create militancy would require that we know whether some militants are attracted to madaris (as some rapists might be attracted to fraternities) or whether the madaris make their students militant. Some militants who have contact with a madrasah do so only after they have been convinced of the need to use violence to redress perceived injustices and do not study in these madaris but use them for the accommodations and not for the education that they provide. The government in Pakistan cannot impose its will in the way that some politicians and policy-oriented researchers have suggested. It is not possible for the government to provide security to itself. Ministers are assassinated. It is not unusual for ministers to travel with an ambulance in their convoy lest they be attacked. One wonders how the government will impose the writ of law in tens of thousands of private religious seminaries. The war in Afghanistan greatly constrains the already limited ability of the government to penetrate into the private religious educational sector.

Madrasah ‘modernisation’ Another strain of criticism of madaris education might be referred to as the relevancy critique. The argument is that madaris education is irrelevant to present (‘modern’) needs for employable skills and civic-mindedness. The Pakistan madrasah is not well understood in public policy circles. The very practices that are identified as problematic in a madrasah education – slavish obedience to the dictation of a didactic teacher, unquestioning acceptance and memorisation of information, absolute and fixed conviction, discouragement of creative and critical thinking – are hallmarks of private and public schools in Pakistan. Madrasah students are taught critical thinking skills. Rather than being fortresses of medieval learning, many of them – especially Brelvi and Shia – are models for critical thought, including etymological investigation, literary criticism and reasoning by analogy. Madaris teach the same subjects that constituted a classical European liberal education: classical languages (in this case, Arabic and Persian), grammar, philology, and rhetoric, logic, poetry and persuasion. In madaris, there can be a love of learning that is difficult to find in private and public schools. The argument that madaris should be ‘modernised’ through the teaching of “math, science, English, and modern skills” because these subjects are “value

56  Christopher Candland free” reveals a lack of appreciation for the norms implicit in these subjects and how they are taught (Etzioni, 2006).8 Those who are genuinely concerned with identifying the contribution of educational curricula to militancy might benefit from investigating why most leaders of militant organisations in Pakistan had their education in engineering and mathematics in elite public and private schools and not in madaris (Bergen and Pandey, 2006).9 I conducted a survey in the summer of 2005 of 218 Karachi private school, public school and madrasah students from four neighborhoods: Defence (a wealthy area), Gulshan Iqbal (a ‘middle-class’ area), the New Hajji camp, (a lower-income area) and Abdul Goth (an impoverished area). I administered a questionnaire, of 154 questions, in a neighborhood park on successive Sundays (school holidays). I offered a roast chicken and soda lunch with each self-completed (or attempted) questionnaire. These could take more than an hour to complete. Questions mostly related to their education and curriculum and to their definitions of injustice and views on using violence to redress current injustices. I found that, with the exception of Indian Occupied Kashmir, madrasah students (n=38) were no more likely to advocate violence to redress perceived injustices than were private and public school students. We turn now to the core of this essay, the historical and political context of the Pakistani madrasah. If madaris are institutions designed to preserve rather than to innovate, then it would be odd to gauge the value of a madrasah education by its ability to prepare students for employment in new sectors of the economy.

Government-led madrasah reform efforts in historical perspective The seeds of distrust between government officials and madrasah educators were sown long before Pakistani governments began to nationalise traditional Islamic institutions and even before the creation of Pakistan. The madaris of British India, and subsequently of Pakistan, were profoundly affected by the introduction of an educational system that was suited to the interests of foreign rulers. The East India Company gave no emphasis to Indian education until 1813, when the English Parliament provided the Company with a sum of £10,000 annually for native education (Ali and Babur, 2010). Lord Macaulay’s Minute of 1835 promoted an instrumental role for public education. This is the same approach – make education British – that is being taken today by many advocates of madrasah reform. Macaulay recommended, and the Committee on Public Instruction implemented, an educational policy designed to “form a class who may be interpreters between us and the millions whom we govern – a class of persons Indian in blood and colour, but English in taste, in opinion, in morals, and in intellect” (Woodrow, 1862: 183). “Usefulness,” as Zaman has explained, was the leading justification for British intervention in the educational activities of South Asia (Zaman, 2002: 66). Contemporary Muslim identities in Pakistan are closely connected to madrasah education. One can trace the emergence of contemporary Muslim identities

Resistance to reform? 57 in Pakistan to two distinct Muslim reactions to the suppression of the Muslim community after the Indian Mutiny in 1857, known in India as the First Indian War for Independence. Contemporary Muslim identities in South Asia are to a large degree, as Francis Robinson has explained, responses to “the horror of the Mutiny” (Robinson, 2000). In early 1857, Indians who had the weaponry and organisation to do so, initially Bengali Muslims in the service of the East India Company Army, rose up against the British. The British were very much a minority in ‘British India’ and relied on the manpower of Indians for police and defense forces. Several thousand British troops ruled a territory of more than 250 million people. While the ‘mutineers’ took over cities and towns, British gentlemen and ladies holed up in forts. The ‘mutiny’ was suppressed by early 1858.10 1857–58 is a pivotal period for Islamic identity and Islamic thought in South Asia. Muslims were blamed and punished for the Mutiny. The Mutiny was led largely by Muslim ‘subalterns’ (non-commissioned regulars) and Muslim intellectuals. When the British took control again, in May 1857, they took revenge on Delhi and Lucknow, the centres of Islamic culture and education. They killed more than 30,000 Delhi residents indiscriminately and then forced all natives out of the city. British forces expelled Muslims from several Indian cities and destroyed or occupied most Muslim places of learning and worship. For a while, they considered demolishing the entire city of Delhi. They allowed Hindus back in June 1858 and allowed Muslims back to the city the following year, in August 1859. But few of the Muslims who returned could stomach life in the new Delhi, given British practices toward traditional Islamic institutions. The repression included internment of many Muslims and incarceration of many others. It also included the destruction and occupation of many significant Muslim buildings including masajid (plural of masjid, ‘mosque’). The British Parliament cancelled the charter of the East India Company and placed the government of India and its Princely States under the British monarchy. A Vice-Regent ruled the Indian Empire as the British Monarch’s representative in Delhi. It was only in 1900 – 40 years later – that the population of the old city of Delhi – where most Muslims in Delhi lived – regained its pre-1857 population. The British destroyed nearly every mosque and most Muslim dwellings in the city. The mosques that were spared were turned into British military encampments. The Jama Masjid, Delhi’s largest mosque, was turned into army barracks, as was the Jama Masjid in Lahore. Mirza Ghalib wrote in 1861 “Delhi is no more a city, but a camp, a cantonment” (Robinson, 2000: 148). The “Shock of the Mutiny”, as Francis Robinson has described it, the shock of the repression of the mutineers, created two Muslim responses, a ‘modernist’ response and a ‘conservative’ response.11 Each response was largely defined by its approach to education. The modernists, notably Sir Sayed Ahmad Khan, who founded the Muhammadian Anglo Oriental College, accepted that Muslims needed to embrace British education and culture. Conservatives, known as Deobandi, after their madrasah, founded in Deoband in 1866, rejected British education and culture and embraced the madaris as the proper form of education.

58  Christopher Candland The British repression did not as powerfully affect a third group, the traditional (or Sufi) or Brelvi Muslims, because they were largely rural-based. Most Pakistani Muslims are associated with the Brelvi tradition. These later two identities, Deobandi and Brelvi, are expressed in Pakistan today as specific maslak (denomination). Another important Muslim identity of Pakistan is that of the Shia, who have their own mazhab (school of thought) and thus their own madaris. A fourth identity is that of the Ahl-i-Hadith, who like the Salafi and Wahabian traditions prefer direct reference to the Qur’an and Hadith rather than deference to one of the four Sunni mazhab. In the early 1940s, a fifth identity organised around a political party, the Jamaat-ul-Islami, which opposed the creation of Pakistan and its management by secular Muslims, and advocates the re-establishment of the political system allegedly found in the Prophet Mohammad’s Medina. Pakistan’s Muslim population is extraordinarily diverse, culturally and religiously. Characterisations of Pakistan as a ‘Muslim country’ give rise to the mistaken notion that Pakistan is monolithically Muslim. One of the major obstacles to government-directed madrasah reform is lack of appreciation that the madaris of each maslak uses a different curriculum and thus government-directed curriculum reform sounds to many madaris educators as an effort to homogenise madaris education. Whenever Pakistani governments have ‘Islamicised’ traditional institutions in Pakistan, they have promoted a Deobandi version of Islam with Wahabian overtones that is anathema to the practices and understandings of Islam of most Pakistanis. Thus, pressing for government-led madrasah reform could weaken those madaris that are least implicated in religious intolerance and to strengthen those madaris that are most hostile to religious tolerance.

Government-led madrasah reform efforts in political perspective Many madrasah educators blame government officials for, at best, failing to understand Islamic education and, worse, trying to colonise the madrasah sector. Government attempts to regulate the madrasah sector, arguably, have made the madrasah sector more sectarian. The first attempt by the Pakistani government to regulate and modernise madaris in the late 1950s resulted in the establishment of separate madrasah boards. Under three subsequent martial law administrators, the government attempted to regulate and modernise madaris but succeeded in deepening the distrust between government officials and madrasah educators. One indication of the distrust is reflected in the ban promulgated by Pakistan’s most recent military government on madrasah graduates holding shahadah althaniyyah amah, shahadah al-thaniyyah khassah and shahadah al-aliyyah from contesting elections. Pakistani governments have not only used Islamic terminology to attempt to gain (or not to lose further) legitimacy; Pakistani governments have also nationalised awqaf (Islamic trusts) that are the economic foundation for dargah (shrines)

Resistance to reform? 59 and madaris. Many madaris, jamia and darul uloom of Islamic learning are managed as awqaf. The nationalisation of awqaf allows provincial governments to capture the very significant contributions that individuals have made for the public good and the donations that pilgrims make at dargah. Mohammad Ali Jinnah, president of the All India Muslim League, the party that successfully advocated for the creation of Pakistan, was able to establish his credentials among many Indian Muslims by arguing, successfully, in British court that Islamic law prevents awqaf from being nationalised by government. The government’s nationalisation and mismanagement of awqaf have confirmed madrasah educators’ suspicions of state intrusion into the madaris sector (Malik, 1996). The government has also instituted a mandatory zakat tax that is distributed by the government to supporters. Why then should madrasah educators not resist the regulation of the one institution that continues to provide them with social significance and economic resources and defend Islam from what they perceive to be the extension of a colonial government? One reads that the government of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto in 1972 nationalised all educational institutions. That was certainly the language of the Chief Martial Law Administrator and Prime Minister’s ordinance. But the government could only manage to take physical control over private schools. Madrasah educators were not replaced or trained, because the government did not have the kind of reach or expertise to assume day-to-day management of madaris. Madaris are the base of three of Pakistan’s four main ‘religious’ parties.12 Recommendations that the government incorporate the madrasah sector into the government sector are oblivious to the most elementary aspects of Pakistani politics. The madrasah sector is the foundation of three political parties, one of which is a leading opposition party, the Deobandi Jamiat-ul-Ulema-Islami of Fazlur Rehman (JUI-F). The JUI-F has been a political ally, in government and in the opposition, of the Pakistan People’s Party. For the JUI-F to accept government regulation of madaris, in the real-world context of governments that are not politically neutral, when the government is run by the military, as it was from 1999 to 2008 or by the Muslim League (Nawaz), as it has been since 2013, is tantamount to betraying one’s electoral base. Giving the madrasah sector over to the government means abandoning the theological orientation of Brelvi and Shia madaris. The support for the creation of Pakistan came not from Jamaat-i-Islami, the political party that has had, by working with the Pakistani military, the most influence in defining the character of ‘Islamicisation’ in Pakistan, under the patronage of General Zia ul Haq, but from Jamiat-ul-Ulema-Islami (of both the Fazlur Rehman (JUI-F) and the Sami ul Haq (JUI-S) factions) and the Jamiat-ul-Ulemai-Pakistan (JUI-P), political parties whose social base is in the madaris sector. As Masooda Bano has suggested in her study of whether state-run madaris in Bangladesh are a suitable model for Pakistan, the state-run madaris are those patronised by the Jamaat-ul-Islami of Pakistan, the political party most determined to ‘Islamicise’ by force of the state rather than by the force of example, especially as popularly practiced and conceived (Bano, 2014).

60  Christopher Candland Much of the discussion about madrasah reform is based on an incomplete understanding of what the madrasah sector means to its inhabitants and supporters. As a result, the analysis of why madrasah educators resist reforms is misguided. The discussion about madrasah reform tends to promote false dichotomies, between a private sphere and public sphere, between a modern orientation and a traditional orientation and between a secular and a religious world. The presumptions inherent in the first of these dichotomies is that the public sphere – where resources are shared – must be guaranteed by authoritative, and if necessary coercive, government action and that the private sector – where resources are personal and privileged – is free from such authoritative and coercive dictation. Deploying this false dichotomy, many analysts assume that madaris are private institutions because government does not regulate them. The students, teachers and financial supporters of madaris do not regard madaris as private institutions. Madaris are public institutions. The dichotomy of private and public sector is not compatible with the very essence of Islam, which makes mandatory upon believers a personal commitment to the public good. The persistent theme of the Qur’an and the major lesson of the Hadith is that a Muslim is one who cares about and takes action to support others, especially those who are poor, disabled, orphaned, seeking knowledge, travelling, inclined toward faith in God or working in the spirit of Islam (known as the mustaqeen). Madrasah students are often poor, disabled or orphaned, and are seeking knowledge. Accordingly, support of madaris or of a madrasah student is a form of infaq (spending to please God) and zakat (the obligation to give a proportion of wealth or income to the mustaqeen). Islamic social thought creates three spheres, wherein a part of the private sphere (that of the faithful) can create public goods. Madaris are privately provided public goods, a reality that the dichotomy between an authoritative public sphere and a voluntary private sphere cannot accommodate. The notion that the government should regulate madaris is accordingly anathema to the faithful inhabitants of the madrasah sector. In Islam, God enjoins the faithful to fulfill their obligation to serve and aid others – quite a different obligation from that which one has toward government. As Zaman (1999) has argued: The question here is not a separation of religion and state, or of society and state . . . but rather recognition, by the ‘ulama’ themselves, of greater differentiation within society, with religion occupying a distinct, inviolable, autonomous sphere. (p. 319) Madaris represent a kind of public good that neither government schools nor private schools can replicate. In Pakistan, the provision of government-organised public goods – public schools being the chief example – is complicated by the legacies of imperial rule under which government schools were created. At the same time, government-organised public goods are not based on the principle of voluntary contribution to the good of society. Much of the discussion about

Resistance to reform? 61 madrasah reform also tends to promote a false dichotomy between a modern orientation and a traditional orientation.

Conclusion Government-led madrasah reforms have failed because past government involvement in private, traditional, religious institutions in Pakistan has suggested to madrasah administrators, educators and supporters that the Pakistan government exerts a corrupting influence. The government take-over of awqaf and dargah allowed the government to appropriate private resources dedicated for the public good. Government management of zakat and haj (pilgrimage) funds is alleged to involve graft and waste. The history of Pakistan government’s management of private religious commitments to the public good gives madrasah administrators, educators and supporters reason to feel uneasy about government regulation of madrasah education. Madrasah educators are keenly aware of the need for improvement of their curriculum, teaching and facilities. Madrasah educators have themselves worked to improve the relevance of a madrasah education. In Punjab, for example, some madrasah educators are working with a provincial job training and placement programme and with the Japanese International Cooperation Agency to improve job prospects and drinking water for students. In Karachi, the Jamiatur Rashid has introduced banking, business, computing, journalism and teacher training (Muhammad et al., 2012).13 But government officials and madrasah educators mean different things by ‘reform’. When government officials, and many policy-oriented academics, refer to reform, they have in mind bureaucratic administration of the madrasah sector. When madrasah educators speak of reform, they have in mind an improvement of the curriculum and facilities so as to strengthen Muslim society. As Masooda Bano has pointed out, citing Barbara Metcalf’s work, “the birth of the Deoband tradition . . . was itself an attempt at reform triggered by the changed political-economic situation in which the Muslims found themselves during the colonial period” (Bano, 2014: 917).14 Not all madrasah educators accept that the social world can be divided between private and public spheres, as some advocates of madrasah reform assume. Of course, the so-called Islamists have made the argument that for Muslims there is no distinction between private and public spheres. The argument advanced here is different. The Qur’an and Hadith encourage people to create public goods privately. To the inhabitants of the madrasah sector, a madrasah is a privately created public good. As such, anyone who has the appropriate motivation and wants to study in a madrasah will be accommodated. And, as such, governments cannot regulate madaris, for governments are authoritative, and Muslims commitments to the madrasah sector, financial and intellectual, must be inspired, not dictated. Further, those ‘private’ institutions that the Pakistan government has managed to regulate or nationalise – such as the awqaf and dargah – have been made into vehicles for the private appropriation of public resources and turned toward a single rendition of Islam – a narrow Deobandi rendition with

62  Christopher Candland Wahabian overtones – that does not suit the pluralistic reality of Islam as practiced in Pakistan.

Acknowledgement I am grateful to Qibla Ayaz, Mukhlis Abu Bakar, Niaz Muhammad, Aamer Raza and two anonymous reviewers for insightful comments and essential corrections on earlier drafts.

Notes 1 The most recent declaration that unregistered madaris would be closed was part of the government’s National Action Program, which was a response to the attack on the Army Public School in Peshawar in December 2014. 2 The Model Dini Madrasah in Islamabad was for girls. The Model Dini Madaris in Karachi and Sukkur are for boys. For a critique of Pervez Musharraf’s approach to ‘enlightened moderation’, see Sethi (2004). 3 This section is a revised version of a portion of my chapter “Pakistan’s recent experience in reforming Islamic education” in Malik (2007) (ed.), Madrasas in South Asia: Teaching Terror? Abingdon: Routledge. 4 Covert US funding and weapons were supplied to anti-government militants in Afghanistan before the December 1979 entry of Soviet forces into Afghanistan. See Gates (1996) and Brzezinski (1998). 5 As in neighboring countries, in Pakistan the term ‘orphan’ is used for children who have a deceased father. In American and European usage, an orphan has lost both parents. 6 See Malik (1996: 123–125). 7 This is a report published under the same title in Comparative Education Review, Special Issue on Islam and Education: Myths and Truths, 50(3), (August 2006), 446–477. 8 Etzioni (2006) argues for the promotion of moderate religious education rather than secularism. “Teaching only math, science, English, and other normativeneutral subjects does not provide the needed education for weaving or restoring a social fabric,” he writes. One may accept the claim that math, science and English do not provide the basis for social cohesion without accepting that these subjects are “normatively neutral” (p. 16). 9 Bergen and Pandey (2006), in their “examination of the 79 terrorists responsible for five of the worst anti-Western terrorist attacks in recent memory” (pp. 117– 118), found that more than half attended college or university, while only 11 percent attended a madrasah. 10 For an evaluation of the political leanings and rhetorical construction of extant Urdu writing, mostly pro-British, penned during the Mutiny and soon thereafter, see Rahman (2009). 11 Jalal (1998) suggests that “instead of perpetuating the contradiction implicit in the ‘modernists – traditionalist’ opposition, a recognition of its inherent ambiguities [might] be a more useful way to approach the contending strands of thought” (p. 78). Jalal takes issue with the heuristic categories of ‘modernist’ and ‘traditionalist’ largely because there is in such a dichotomy insufficient appreciation of entangled threads of thought. Jalal is right that individual’s thoughts are not elucidated well by affixing such labels. And, the same can be said of the ‘modernist – conservative’ opposition used here. But categories such as ‘modernist’,

Resistance to reform? 63 ‘traditionalist’ and ‘conservative’, when intended to indicate a broad conceptual distinction, rather than to account for the complexity of an individual’s thoughts or of that of an entire school of thought, do have some value. 12 In Pakistan, political parties that claim Islamic credentials are referred to in the press as “religious parties”. 13 Niaz Muhammad was the first principal of the government’s Model Dini Madrasah in Karachi and Sukkur (Muhammad et al., 2012). 14 Bano (2014) refers to Metcalf (1978).

References Ali, S., and Babur, M. (2010). Educational governance in Pakistan: A historical perspective. In J. Kakhi and Q. Safdar (Eds.), Educational Leadership in Pakistan: Ideals and Realities (pp. 6–7). Karachi: Oxford University Press. Andrabi, T., Das, J., Khwaja, A. I., and Zajonc, T. (2005). Religious school enrollment in Pakistan: A look at the data. Policy Research Working Paper Series, No. 3521, Washington, DC. Bano, M. (2014). Madrasa reforms and Islamic modernism in Bangladesh. Modern Asian Studies, 48(4), 911–939. Baxter, C. (1985). Zia’s Pakistan: Politics and Stability in a Frontline State. Boulder, CO: Westview. Bergen, P., and Pandey, S. (2006). The Madrassa scapegoat. The Washington Quarterly, 29, 117–125. Brzezinski, Z. (1998, January 15–21). Les Révélations d’un Ancien Conseilleur de Carter: ‘Oui, la CIA est Entrée en Afghanistan avant les Russes. . . ’. Le Nouvel Observateur, 76. Cockcroft, A., Andersson, N., Milne, D., Omer, K., Ansari, N., Khan, A., and Chaudhry, U. U. (2009). Challenging the myths about Madaris in Pakistan: A national household survey of enrolment and reasons for choosing religious schools. International Journal of Education, 29, 342–349. Etzioni, A. (2006, Spring). Religion and the state why moderate religious teaching should be promoted. Harvard International Review, 14–17. Gates, R. (1996). From the Shadows: The Ultimate Insider’s Story of Five Presidents and How They Won the Cold War. New York: Simon and Schuster. Haqqani, H. (2009, November 10). Islam’s medieval outposts. Foreign Policy, 13–20. International Crisis Group. (2002). Pakistan: Madrassas, Extremism and the Military. Islamabad: International Crisis Group. International Crisis Group. (2015). Revisiting Counter-Terrorism Strategies in Pakistan: Opportunities and Pitfalls. Brussels: International Crisis Group. Islamic Education Research Cell. (1988). Deeni Madaris ke Jama Report. Ministry of Education, Government of Pakistan. Islamabad: Printing Corporation of Pakistan Press. Jalal, A. (1998). Self and Sovereignty: Individual and Community in South Asian Islam Since 1850. London: Routledge. Malik, J. (1996). Colonialization of Islam: Dissolution of Traditional Institutions in Pakistan. Lahore: Vanguard. Metcalf, B. (1978). The Madrasa at Deoband: A model for religious education in India. Modern Asian Studies, 12(1), 111–134.

64  Christopher Candland Muhammad, N., Omer, F., Imran, Akbar, W., and Karim, W. (2012). Madaris of Pakistan and challenges of modern world. Gomal University Journal of Research, 28(2), 39–51. Puri, N. R. (2010). The Pakistani Madrassah and terrorism: Made and unmade conclusions from the literature. Perspectives on Terrorism, 4(4), 51–72. Rahman, T. (2004). Denizens of Alien Worlds: A Study of Education, Inequality and Polarization in Pakistan. Karachi: Oxford University Press. Rahman, T. (2009). The events of 1857 in contemporary writings in Urdu. South Asia: Journal of South Asian Studies, 32(2), 212–229. Robinson, F. (2000). The Muslims of upper India and the shock of the mutiny. In F. Robinson (Ed.), Islam and Muslim History in South Asia (pp. 138–155). New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Sethi, N. (2004). Fate of ‘Enlightened Moderation’. Friday Times, 1. Stephens, J., and Ottaway, D. (2002, March 23). The ABCs of Jihad in Afghanistan: Violent Soviet-era textbooks complicate Afghan education efforts. The Washington Post, A01. Woodrow, H. (1862). Macaulay’s Minutes on Education in India. Calcutta: C. B. Lewis. Zaman, M. Q. (1999). Religious education and the rhetoric of reform: The Madrasa in British India and Pakistan. Comparative Studies in Society and History, 41(2), 294–323. Zaman, M. Q. (2002). The Ulama in Contemporary Islam: Custodians of Change. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

4 Modernising madrasah education The Singapore ‘national’ and the global S. Gopinathan Introduction If we are to understand better the unique role of madrasah education in Singapore, it is necessary to understand both the historical and wider Singaporean context within which this unique educational provision is embedded. Calls to modernise curriculum and pedagogy in madrasahs are to some extent echoes of proposals at the national level. As we shall see below, Singapore’s education roots are principally from Britain and China. Britain was the colonial power, and Chinese schools that served the majority community drew their textbooks, teachers and ideals from China. But what has evolved is a distinctly Singapore model. In a similar fashion, Singapore’s madrasahs combine both non-national and national features, and, with curricular modernisation, are evolving into something unique and special. This chapter seeks to place efforts to modernise madrasah education within the wider context of education reform in Singapore from 1987. The key focus of these reforms is to ensure that schooling experiences and outcomes are appropriate to 21st-century knowledge economy contexts. Given that the twin goals of education policy have been social cohesion and economic development via schooling, it is inevitable that there would be a necessity for schooling in the madrasahs to be modernised as well. The current strength of the Singapore system is due in large part to key policies implemented post-1965. An understanding of developments during this period will enable us to become aware not only of how thoughtful and courageous some of the policies were, but also that well-intentioned policies often have unintended consequences and leave a legacy of issues that will have to be confronted later on. There are two key features of the past that are significant. The first is that the colonial inheritance in education was of a segmented (by medium-of-instruction) system with English and Chinese medium schools being dominant. While Malay and Tamil medium schools existed, they were relatively small. Across all aspects, such as funding, government supervision, curriculum and assessment, teacher preparation and service conditions, etc., difference rather than similarity was the norm. Further and more significantly, the non-English educated felt discriminated against, with education providing limited access to higher education and jobs.

66  S. Gopinathan Political activity and anti-colonial sentiment was rife, especially in Chinese medium schools (Gopinathan, 1974; Wilson, 1978; Singapore Government, 1956). A second feature of the system was that it was much more diversified and decentralised then, with a wider variety of schools, school types and sponsors. This was largely the consequence of a colonial ‘hands-off’ policy towards education provision, and a desire on the part of ethnic-religious groups to provide specific types of educational experiences. Most of the English medium schools were government-financed or run by Christian groups. Chinese schools had a range of sponsors – some were government-aided, others run by clan associations, yet others by philanthropists. Indigenous education institutions, like madrasahs, catered to specific religious communities. The education system thus mirrored societal diversity and difference, well suited to colonial needs to divide and rule but incapable of uniting and fostering social cohesion that the post-colonial Singapore state needed. Singapore’s madrasahs are unique institutions representing a blend of the global and the national. Though indigenous in the sense of owing nothing to British educational precepts and practices, they were influenced by international trends, then as now. The establishment of the now defunct Madrasah Al-Iqbal in 1907 was influenced by reformist ideas from the Middle East. Madrasah Aljunied, one of six madrasahs still existing today, has special ties with Middle Eastern institutions in that their graduates can go on to further education in these institutions. On the other hand, reform-oriented madrasahs in Singapore have served as models for others in the region. According to a New York Times (NYT) article (Onishi, 2009), Madrasah Al-Irsyad’s curriculum is considered sufficiently innovative to have been adopted by two madrasahs in Indonesia. The face of Singapore’s madrasah has changed over the course of its 100year history (Mukhlis, 2009). In the 1970s, the lure of secular schooling and extended exposure to instruction via English, linked as this was to social mobility, reduced enrollments in the madrasahs. The two decades that followed saw a wave of Islamic resurgence reversing the trend as more parents sent their children to the madrasahs for their values-driven education. The government’s intervention at the turn of the century through the enactment of the Compulsory Education Act1 forced the madrasahs to spruce up their offering of modern subjects. What has remained constant throughout, however, is the madrasahs’ position as the principal source for producing religious teachers and scholars (the ulama). All these inevitably have implications for curriculum and pedagogy.

The survival phase The first task that confronted policy makers in self-governing Singapore was a settlement on the place of language, both in the wider society and in schooling. A multiplicity of languages, dialects – some in use in education, some not, English, the colonial language and dominant in administration and law but not spoken with sufficient proficiency by the vast majority of residents, was then the ‘linguistic map’ of Singapore. The situation demanded rational choices. But

Modernising madrasah education 67 language issues were emotive as well, tangled as they were with ethnicity, culture and identity. The 1956 All Party Report on Chinese Education which made recommendations on this issue was hugely significant, signalling a political and socio-linguistic settlement. It laid the foundations for Singapore’s unique answer to the dilemmas of multilingualism – a four-language formula with Malay as the national language and English, Chinese, Malay and Tamil as official languages. It was also to lead to Singapore-style school bilingualism, with English as the main medium of instruction and a compulsory mother tongue (Mandarin, Malay and Tamil) to be studied as a subject from Grade 1 and with students needing to meet specified standards of proficiency to proceed to the next level of education. While this solution reduced linguistic complexity, it squeezed out languages like Arabic and widely spoken dialects like Hokkien. Ethnic pluralism – multilingualism was an essential expression of this – also posed challenges which the school system – yet to be unified – had to resolve. What key elements would constitute the political identity of the new nation? What core values could be distilled from the cultural traditions represented by the various ethnic groups, and what place, if any, could religions play in this? And what balance (and how) should be struck between tradition and custom and the need to modernise? As with bilingualism, social cohesion issues were a major preoccupation with education policy makers in the immediate post-1965 period. As a consequence, there has been much experimentation with values/­ citizenship education curriculum (Ong and Moral Education Committee, 1979; Gopinathan, 1980). One core tenet has been that widespread exposure to English would weaken attachment to and an understanding of traditions. The political elite believed that Singapore society would become enfeebled as a result and thus unable to overcome Singapore’s limitations and build a strong and progressive Asian society. Education for Living, Being and Becoming, National Education and more recently, Character and Citizenship Education are some examples of these efforts. In the context of religious education, it is relevant to consider the one curriculum effort that explicitly acknowledged the place of religion in values education, and education more broadly. The Religious Knowledge Syllabus was introduced in 1982, an effort to anchor values teaching on a religious foundation. The initiative was an effort to underpin Singapore’s rapid socio-economic transformation within the emergent Asian Values discourse. As early as 1972, then Prime Minister (PM) Lee Kuan Yew stated, “It is basic we understand ourselves, what we are, where we came from, what life is or should be about and what we want to do . . . only when we first know our traditional values can we be quite clear that the western world is a different system, a different voltage, structured for purposes different from others” (Lee, quoted in The Straits Times, February 8, 1972, cited by Gopinathan, 1995: 17). The offerings – Bible Knowledge, Buddhist Studies, Confucian Ethics, Hindu Studies, Sikh Studies, Islamic Religious Knowledge and World Religions – were offered from 1984. The pedagogic orientation was knowledge of religion, not initiation into the faith. The initiative was abandoned in 1989 both because the vast majority of students for whom it

68  S. Gopinathan was intended chose Buddhist Studies and Bible Studies, and amid concerns that Singapore society was being exposed to a “heightened consciousness of religious differences” and that in this context it was not prudent to have religious knowledge present in the school curriculum (Gopinathan, 1995; Tan, 1997a). The irony was that this was the period that more Malay-Muslim parents were sending their children to madrasahs, precisely because they wanted their children to be provided with a strong, values-driven educational experience.

The efficiency phase The policy of bilingualism was not without adverse consequences. For many children, the languages of the school were not the home languages. Neither English nor Mandarin were principal modes of communication in Chinese homes. Many children failed to master the languages sufficiently well, resulting in low proficiency and substantial attrition. Via the Report of the Ministry of Education 1978 (Goh, 1979 – called The Goh Report), streaming was introduced into the system to reduce attrition. The differentiated curriculum of the different streams catered to the different learning requirements of students. Though modified substantially since its first introduction, it remains a dominant feature of the system. Another curriculum initiative had to do with the need to reform the academicoriented curriculum prevalent in English medium schools to a system-wide emphasis on English, science, mathematics and technical education. The need for an efficient system rose from the fact that socio-political cohesion was a work in progress and the state needed to gain legitimacy through economic growth and investment in social goods. The industrializing Singapore economy needed a skilled labour force which the schools had to provide. Even though there was some resistance, the government prevailed with its policies; outside the school system the government built up capacity through investment in vocational skills via the Vocational and Industrial Training Board (VITB) and later the Institute for Technical Education (ITE), and increased the number of polytechnics. This capacity building for economic growth and modernisation was more successful than in many other newly industrial economies and played an important role in Singapore’s stellar economic growth between 1965 and the late 1980s (Gopinathan, 1999). A very important principle is that of meritocracy. At least one reason for the failure of merger with Malaya was Malaya’s insistence on affirmative action on behalf of the Malays. In Singapore, with a Chinese majority and a history of educational discrimination by the colonial powers, such a policy was a non-starter. The government’s commitment was to equalise educational opportunity, promote social mobility, reward talent and effort, irrespective of social class or ethnicity. Merit, effort and a healthy dose of competition were deemed essential for high-quality performance, both at an individual and system-wide level. A second core principle, represented in the efforts to build up the skills base via education, was that of curriculum relevance to socio-economic needs. A third has been a commitment to multiculturalism, seen as significant for building social cohesion,

Modernising madrasah education 69 and given how politicised the system was in the 1950s and 1960s, education policy formulation in the last three decades has been more technocratic and less politicised then in many other systems. What have been the implications for the evolution of madrasah education in the context outlined above? While the rejection of Malaysia-style affirmative education for Malay Muslims in Singapore was initially disquieting, it is widely accepted today. Malay leaders continue to urge the community to earn a place through effort and merit. While achievement differences between the different ethnic groups have narrowed over time, gaps persist with Malays under-represented in Singapore’s universities and possibly over-represented in the vocational institutes, namely the Institute of Technical Education (ITE). The effort to make the curriculum relevant to socio-economic needs has also impacted madrasah education. From the policy perspective, the objective was to ensure that graduates from the madrasahs would have the knowledge and skills to join an increasingly skilled labour force in an economy from the 1980s characterised by a growing service sector and higher value-added manufacturing. A tradition-oriented curriculum and a teacher-dominant pedagogy would not have met this objective. Mukhlis (2006) notes that madrasahs in the past were focused on socialising students into Islam. He adds, “They . . . follow a juristic methodology that has remained virtually unchanged since medieval times. Religious knowledge is accepted as revealed and unchallengeable and is mostly memorised. . . .” (p. 31) Further, there was a need to ensure sufficient proficiency in English; the main media of instruction at the madrasahs was Malay and Arabic (Tan, 1997b) when at the national level the economy was rewarding students proficient in English. Also, English is now a link language between ethnic groups and a lack of proficiency would mean an inability to communicate, thus hampering social cohesion. This picture of education development since 1956 has been one of successful transformation. And this is borne out in Trends in International Mathematics and Science Study (TIMMS) and Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA) data of academic achievement. In a global context, Singapore students’ performance in English, mathematics and science has been outstanding. Singapore has done consistently well in raising achievement levels for all ethnic groups and reducing achievement gaps. This is to not to say that no policy mistakes were made. Bilingual demands imposed heavy burdens on learners. As noted earlier, the ‘failure’ of the Religious Knowledge curriculum (Gopinathan, 1995; Tan, 1997a), a poorly skilled workforce in comparison with other East Asian economies as reported in various economic review committee reports, an overly economistic view of the ends of education, a strong focus on academic achievement leading to a content-dominated curriculum and the promotion of testtaking expertise, neglect of the humanities and aesthetics in the curriculum, etc., all point to unintended consequences. Notwithstanding the above, government policies have enabled the education system to undergo radical transformation. A culture of effort and excellence has been institutionalised in the system and strong foundations laid upon which to build for the future.

70  S. Gopinathan

The ability-driven phase With the publication of the TIMMS results in 1995, the Singapore education system woke to a realisation of just what had been achieved in three short decades. A robust and high-achieving system had been created. But it was essentially an industrial model system, focused, efficient and concerned with academic outcomes; it mirrored a strong state-centric model of governance which privileged merit and effort, feeding skilled labour into an economy that had successfully industrialised. Principally, the Singapore education system was designed to facilitate the developmental state’s ideology and practices. However, globalisation trends had begun to impact society and the economy. A short recession in the late 1980s exposed weaknesses in Singapore’s export-driven model, relatively high cost of labour and small internal market. Economic competitiveness and the capacity to recognise and exploit newer economic opportunities was now a major policy concern. Policy makers realised that Singapore had to reshape its economy to leverage on technology, enterprise and knowledge capital. Once this was decided upon, major changes to an already efficient education system were inevitable. The ability-driven phase began in 1987 with a move towards decentralisation, leading to the creation of independent, later autonomous schools. The key rationale underpinning this reform was laid out in the Towards Excellence in Schools Report (Ministry of Education, Singapore, 1987), which pointed to overstandardisation in the system, the need for school-level autonomy to better meet diverse student needs and to stretch the brightest and the best. This was built upon in the decade of the 1990s by initiatives in reducing content and promoting critical and creative thinking, policies to extend use of ICT in schools and policies on values and citizenship education. The then PM Goh’s landmark Thinking Schools, Learning Nation speech (Goh, 1997) and PM Lee Hsien Long’s Teach Less Learn More speech (Lee, 2004) explicitly tied the demands of a globalising economy to the need to move the education system beyond industrial-style effectiveness. The key intent behind all these reforms was to make the system flexible and responsive, to encourage greater diversity in curriculum and pedagogy and to better tailor schooling to meet the needs of a wider range of talent and ability (Gopinathan, 2007). The school system is now much more diversified than it was in the 1990s; it is a system characterised by multiple pathways. There are now specialised schools for sports, performing arts, science and mathematics, technology and schools to cater to academically weaker students. School-based curricula enrichment, remedial activities and action research led by teachers at the school level are now more common. The old 6–4–2 structure (primary-secondary-junior college) has been modified with the introduction of the integrated programme schools at the secondary level; this policy allows bright students to skip the ‘O’ level examination and to make schooling at years 11 and 12 less specialised. While streaming remains in place, it is now less rigid and more porous. A ‘bridges and ladders’ system can be said to have evolved linking the K-12 system with the Institute of

Modernising madrasah education 71 Technical Education (ITE), polytechnics and universities. Teachers have been encouraged to be more innovative in their pedagogies and to be more activityand student-centred (Hogan and Gopinathan, 2008). These examples suggest that Singapore’s education system was being restructured in line with the changes being made to the economy in response to globalisation. Some of the changes in education policy and practice noted above were also being attempted in the madrasahs. According to Yaacob Ibrahim, Minister in charge of Muslim Affairs, “. . . the underlying philosophy embodies an integrated and holistic learning of both religions and academic subjects, rooted in progressive Islamic traditions as well as the Singaporean mission of developing every student to the best of his or her potential” (Yaacob, 2013). Changes which came into effect from 2015 include: (a) At Madrasah ­Al-Arabiah an option for students to choose a four-year route leading to the ‘O’ levels or a five-year route leading to the ‘N’ levels and then the ‘O’ levels; (b) At Madrasah Aljunied, one class of 15 will be able to skip the ‘O’ levels and prepare for the International Baccalaureate (IB). In addition, as noted by Aljunied and Albakri (in this volume) Madrasah Aljunied will also adopt a new model of teaching and learning that will involve the current 18 subjects being integrated into 6 groupings to strengthen inter-disciplinary learning and encourage students to deliver more deeply into their topics. Also included is a module on Islam and Society to expose students to such issues as gender, poverty, the environment and human rights.

Leading the way for the 21st century Two key themes will dominate considerations of Singapore education as we near the end of the second decade of the 21st century. The first has to do with the question: How well is the Singapore system adjusting to the challenges of globalisation?, and the second: What role will education play in the new challenges that confront state and society? (Gopinathan, 2007). These questions are relevant to madrasah education as well, for the challenge of globalisation is not just economic competitiveness but capacity as well to accommodate diversity as echoed in the call for an inclusive society. Efforts to modernise the madrasah curriculum will need to grapple with both global trends and ‘local needs’. What are the challenges posed by socio-political factors? In 2015, Singapore celebrated its 50th anniversary. Singapore is now a mature society and economy. A well-educated middle class has been created which wants greater consultation and involvement in decisions that impact upon their lives. Increased income inequality and diminished social mobility and anxiety over increased immigration needed to grow the economy are now ‘hot’ political issues. Increased income inequality is seen as limiting education option such as in access to quality preschool education. The government has responded by promising extra funding to substantially improve the quality of childcare and early childhood education available to low-income citizens. While social mobility is not completely extinguished, some closure and narrowing of equality of opportunity has occurred. One policy

72  S. Gopinathan response has been to consider initiatives to target low-achieving students earlier to ensure that learning deficits are successfully attended to. Under electoral pressure, the government has also agreed to increase access to tertiary education. And the prospect of increased immigration has raised questions about what it means to be Singapore and what constitutes the ‘core’? As Singapore classrooms become more diverse, there will be profound consequences for the curriculum. What is to be done with the languages, cultures, histories and voices the new migrants will bring? Will the bilingual formula need to be reconsidered? How will the values and citizenship and social studies curriculum need to change? How do we avoid the perception that in the interests of maintaining the ‘Singapore core’ the state favours assimilation? It is more than 16 years since former PM Goh Chok Tong launched his “Thinking Schools Learning Nation” initiative in 1997 and more than 26 years since system devolution through the independent schools initiative. And as noted above, substantial changes have occurred in the system. The question is not if change has occurred but if it has been substantial enough. Several major questions need answering with regards to Singapore’s education system at the present time. Is the socio-economic status (SES) relationship to education performance exacerbated by the present model of streaming? Is education for 21st-century competencies available to all students? What policies are needed to reduce overlaps between SES, ethnicity and achievement gaps? How can the goals of an inclusive society be met, one that meets the needs of the national and the needs of specific groups? Do teachers feel they are more professional and thus more empowered? Are teachers routinely using a wider range of pedagogic strategies – is the schoollearning experience substantially different from two decades ago? The answer is, not yet. The reasons for this are complex. The Singapore system is perceived, nationally and internationally, to be a good system – so, why change? For policy makers anxious not to destabilise the system, the dilemma is also knowing what elements need to be retained and what changed. Some structural elements, like streaming, also play a part. Teachers are bound to draw inferences about student ability from the streams students are placed in and to adjust their pedagogy accordingly. Research evidence suggests that a hybridic pedagogy has replaced the teacher-dominated classrooms of the past (Hogan and Gopinathan, 2008). An effort to ensure that the able and talented were stretched, which led to the gifted programme and to the creation of independent schools, and more recently, the integrated programme schools, has made the system more elitist; while efforts have been made to cater to low-achieving students, a lack of effective early intervention and a preoccupation with making such students employable is leading to early vocationalisation. Finally, as noted earlier, there has been limited assessment reform. Examinations are the visible sign of Singapore’s commitment to meritocracy, excellence and transparency in education allocations. It is understandable that the Ministry of Education (MOE) would tread carefully. But high-stakes examinations on which so much depends promote a ‘teaching to the test’ pedagogy, thus limiting pedagogic innovation (Kapur and Huey, 2013; Curdt-Christiansen and Silver, 2011).

Modernising madrasah education 73 Given the slow change towards a looser pedagogical regime in mainstream schools, what are the prospects for successful curriculum modernisation in Singapore madrasahs? Unlike mainstream schools which are well resourced, teachers well prepared and a clear focus on academic performance, recent changes notwithstanding, the madrasahs face daunting challenges. Curriculum integration and relevance is a difficult enough task, but when the secular and the religious are to be meaningfully integrated, it is obviously much more difficult. Selection, sequencing, coherence, among others, need to be carefully attended to. Next, secular and religious subjects draw from different epistemological and pedagogical traditions. Both teachers and students will be challenged by the need to both keep subjects separate as well as integrated. The greatest challenge will be felt by teachers who will feel the need to own and do justice to their subjects as well as be part of the wider madrasah community (Mukhlis, 2006). All this suggests that teachers will require special preparation, continuing support, as well as enlightened leadership. A related aspect has to do with parental choice and preference. As noted earlier, Singapore society has matured. Parents have raised, loudly, a variety of issues in education they find troubling; greater choice and say in how children are to be educated will be the norm. The government has made some private schooling options available. Singapore has currently three schools, Anglo-Chinese School (International), Hwa Chong Institution (International) and St. Josephs Institution (International), in which Singapore students may enrol (Lee, 2005). Home schooling options are also allowed. This widening of choice could also provide space for madrasahs to show that they too provide a choice option and that by modernising, they continue to remain relevant. The disquiet over the Compulsory Education Act and its consequences for madrasah education has not gone away; it is likely that more authentic, ground up, community-led initiatives are likely to be needed if Singapore’s unique brand of madrasah education is to thrive, and in good time, be a model to others. That there is ground for optimism in the attempt to restructure madrasah education is seen in evidence that madrasah students did well in the 2014 Primary School Leaving Examinations (PSLE). It was reported that 98.4 percent of 311 madrasah students from Madrasah Al-Irsyad qualified for secondary education. Madrasah Wok Tanjong, which was deemed by MOE as not of sufficient standard from 2012 to 2014, had students who scored an average PSLE aggregate of 197, well above the benchmark of 171 (Lee, 2014). The turnaround in several madrasahs occurred because school leaders and teachers rose to the challenge to make madrasah education more relevant to the times. There is reason to be cautiously optimistic that Singapore will successfully confront these challenges. Singapore’s record as a nation is one of successfully confronting challenges, not least in education; the challenges in the mid1960s were enormous and could have easily overwhelmed the fragile state. And the government has already indicated willingness for prompt responses. Certainly, education policy will be a more politicised and contested area. More alternatives, even seemingly radical ones, will have to be considered.

74  S. Gopinathan And policy makers will have to listen more diligently to stakeholders. Upon such new and more equal partnerships will Singapore’s madrasah education’s future depend.

Note 1 Compulsory education in Singapore is defined as education in the national schools for a duration of six years (Grade 1 to 6) for Singapore citizens residing in Singapore. Students enrolled in a madrasah are exempted from compulsory attendance in national schools provided that their madrasah’s performance at the Primary School Leaving Examination (PSLE) matches the average aggregate score of the six lowest-performing national schools whose students sit for the PSLE in the same year. The madrasahs have to meet this minimum passing standard, failing which they will have to stop offering primary education. In addition, the six madrasahs’ total enrollment of Grade 1 pupils was capped at 400 each year.

References Curdt-Christiansen, X. L., and Silver, R. E. (2011). Learning environments: The enactment of educational policies in Singapore. Language Education: An Essential for a Global Economy, RELC Anthology, 52, 2–24. Davie, S. (2013, January 16). Madrasahs’ new teaching model: More exam pathways and IB option among changes. The Straits Times. Singapore: Singapore Press Holdings. Goh, C. T. (1997, June). Shaping our future: Thinking schools, learning nation. Speech by Prime Minister Goh Chok Tong at the opening of the 7th International Conference on Thinking, Suntec City Convention Centre Ballroom, Singapore. Retrieved from www.moe.gov.sg/media/speeches/1997/020697.htm Goh, K. S. (1979). Report on the Ministry of Education 1978. Singapore: Ministry of Education. Goh, K. S., and Educational Study Team. (1987). Towards excellence in schools. A report to the Minister for Education (School Excellence Report), Ministry of Education, Singapore. Gopinathan, S. (1974). Towards a National System of Education in Singapore, 1945– 1973. Singapore: Oxford University Press. Gopinathan, S. (1980). Moral education in a plural society: A Singapore case study. International Review of Education, 26(2), 171–185. Gopinathan, S. (1995). Religious education in a secular state: The Singapore experience. Asian Journal of Political Science, 3(2), 15–27. Gopinathan, S. (1999). Preparing for the next rung: Economic restructuring and educational reform in Singapore. Journal of Education and Work, 12(3), 295–307. Gopinathan, S. (2007). Globalisation, the Singapore developmental state and education policy: A thesis revisited. Globalisation, Societies and Education, 5(1), 53–70. Hogan, D., and Gopinathan, S. (2008). Knowledge management, sustainable innovation, and pre-service teacher education in Singapore. Teachers and Teaching: Theory and Practice, 14(4), 369–384. Ibrahim, Y. (2013, January 15). A new paradigm in madrasah education. Speech by Minister for Communications and Information & Minister-in-Charge of Muslim

Modernising madrasah education 75 Affairs, Dr Yaacob Ibrahim, at the ceremony to present letters of participation to Asatizah attending the Overseas Attachment Programme, Madrasah Aljunied Al-Islamiah, Darul Ifta, Cairo. Retrieved from www.muis.gov.sg/cms/uploaded Files/MuisGovSG/News_Events/Speeches/Minister%20Speech%20for%20JMS %20.pdf Kapur, M., and Huey, W. L. (2013). Enacting teach less, learn more in mathematics classrooms: The case of productive failure. In Z. Deng, S. Gopinathan and C. Lee (Eds.), Globalisation and the Singapore Curriculum: Form Policy to Classroom (pp. 187–202). Singapore: Springer. Lee, H. L. (2004, August 22). Our future of opportunity and promise. Address by Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong at the 2004 National Day Rally, University Cultural Centre, National University of Singapore, Singapore. Lee, L. (2005, January 3). Going international. The Straits Times. Singapore: Singapore Press Holdings. Lee, P. (2014, December 9). Madrasahs Trump Themselves at PSLE. Singapore: Singapore Press Holdings. Mukhlis, A. B. (2006). Between state interests and citizen rights: Wither the madrasah? In A. R. Noor Aisha and A. E. Lai (Eds.), Secularism and Spirituality: Seeking Integrated Knowledge and Success in Madrasah Education in Singapore (pp. 29–57). Singapore: Institute of Policy Studies, Marshall Cavendish Academic. Mukhlis, A. B. (2009). Islamic religious education and Muslim religiosity in Singapore. In J. A. Banks (Ed.), The Routledge International Companion to Multicultural Education (pp. 437–448). New York: Routledge. Ong, T. C., and Moral Education Committee. (1979). Report on Moral Education 1979. Singapore: Ministry of Education. Onishi, N. (2009, April 22). In Singapore, a more progressive Islamic education. New York Times. Retrieved from www.nytimes.com/2009/04/23/world/asia/ 23singapore.html. Singapore Government. (1956). Report of the All-Party Committee of the Singapore Legislative Assembly on Chinese Education. Singapore. Tan, J. (1997a). The rise and fall of religious knowledge in Singapore secondary schools. Journal of Curriculum Studies, 29(5), 603–624. Tan, J. (1997b). Education and colonial transition in Singapore and Hong Kong: Comparisons and contrasts. Comparative Education, 33(2), 303–312. Wilson, H. E. (1978). Social Engineering in Singapore: Educational Policies and Social Change 1819–1972. Singapore: Singapore University Press.

5 Muslim schools in Britain Between mobilisation and incorporation Nasar Meer and Damian Breen

I think we’re at a very interesting stage. The metaphor I use is that the first Muslims that came here were like the farmer standing on the ground; they were standing on it but didn’t have roots in it. But their seed has been scattered with some falling on good ground, others falling on stony ground and yet some being blown away in the wind. In some ways, we’re only now at the beginning of establishing a genuine Muslim presence in Britain, and Muslim schools are the key to that presence. —Idreas Mears, Association of Muslim Schools (AMS) (Interview, 1 April 2006)

Introduction In the opening quotation, the director of the Association of Muslim Schools (AMS), Idreas Mears, figuratively traces the emergence of Muslim schools in Britain, presently numbering over 150 in the independent sector and 20 with some kind of state funding. Whilst their number may indeed support Mears’s vision of a ‘flowering’ British Muslim identity, their place within the British education system remains the subject of intense debate (Tinker, 2007; ParkerJenkins, 1995; Parker-Jenkins et al., 2005; Fetzer and Soper, 2004). Frequently named in various deliberations concerning Muslim civic engagement, political incorporation and social integration (Shah, 2012, 2014), to some commentators Muslim schools represent little more than an irrational source of social division (Dawkins, 2007; Grayling, 2006; National Secular Society (NSS), 2006; Humanist Philosophers’ Group (HPG), 2001). Others, meanwhile, are more welcoming of Muslim schools in viewing their existence as an antidote to a prescriptive or coercive assimilation, and heralding their potential incorporation into the mainstream as an example of how ‘integration’ should be based upon reciprocity and mutual respect (Ameli, Azam and Merali, 2005; Association of Muslim Social Scientists (AMSS), 2004; Hussain, 2004; Commission on British Muslims and Islamophobia, 2004). These differing sides of the spectrum, it appears, are illustrative of the way in which Muslim schools have emerged as a highly salient issue that at times reinforces, and at other times cuts across, political and philosophical divides.

Muslim schools in Britain 77 It therefore comes as some surprise to learn that despite a general proliferation of literature on Muslims in Britain, a literature that has multiplied as one seeming crisis has given way to another, very little research has explicitly investigated how an increasingly salient articulation of Muslim identity connects with the issue of Muslim schooling. To be sure, and notwithstanding sustained Muslim mobilisations for Muslim schools within and across diverse Muslim communities, surprisingly little is known of how these mobilisations are being undertaken, what is being sought, and, more generally, why Muslim schools are deemed to be an important issue for different Muslim communities. We address these questions through the use of primary interviews with Muslim educators and stake-holders, including teachers and Muslim educational associations, alongside other case study instruments including field notes and documentary and policy analysis. The chapter focuses on the contemporary nature of Muslim mobilisations that are investigated, specifically in order to answer the following questions. Firstly, why have there been sustained Muslim mobilisations on the issue of Muslim schools within and across diverse Muslim communities? Secondly, what does the engagement or non-engagement of Muslims over the issue of education reveal about their incorporation into a rubric of British citizenship? Thirdly, how can Muslim educators and advocates address their critics and broader concerns over the place of Muslim schools in Britain?

The policy context In order to facilitate more advanced discussion later in the chapter, it is worth briefly setting out the public policy context with respect to Muslim schools here at the beginning, where a concise overview can be gained by turning our attention to a recent watershed in Muslim schooling. This watershed was achieved in 1998 when, after 18 years of a Conservative administration, a ‘New Labour’ government delivered on a promise in its election manifesto and co-opted two Muslim schools, Islamia School (in Brent, London) and Al-Furqan School (in Birmingham), into the state sector by awarding each Voluntary Aided (VA) status. This status prescribed an allocation of public money to cover teacher salaries and the running costs of the school. It arrived “fourteen years and five Secretaries of State after the first naive approach” (Hewitt, 1998: 22), when Muslim parents and educators had only begun to get to grips with the convoluted application process to achieve state funding, and were dealing with a Conservative administration hostile to the idea of state-funded Muslim schools. Both Islamia and Al-Furqun schools had already undergone a strict inspection by the Office for Standards in Education (OFSTED) (2004) and had more than met the appropriate governmental criteria required of independent schools applying for state funding. Alongside the obvious, such as the delivery of a good standard of education and the economic feasibility of a school, these criteria required: (a) the adoption and delivery of the National Curriculum, (b) the appointment of appropriately qualified staff, (c) the provision of suitable school buildings,

78  Nasar Meer And Damian Breen (d) equality of opportunity for both male and female pupils and (e) consideration of parental demand. All of this is of course premised upon the ‘need’ for a school in a given area based upon the number of available pupil spaces. In the past, this has been cited as the principle reason for – having met all other criteria – refusing some Muslim schools to opt into the state system, whilst simultaneously inviting other religious schools in similar areas to do so (see AMSS, 2004: 20; ParkerJenkins, 2002: 279). Nevertheless, the success of these two schools was given further impetus in the Government White Paper, Schools: Achieving Success (2001), so that nine years and another four Secretaries of State later the current number of state-funded Muslim faith schools has risen to include Al-Hijrah (a secondary school in Birmingham), Feversham College (a secondary school in Bradford), Gatton Primary School (in Wandsworth, South London), Tauheedul Islam Girls High School (Blackburn, Lancashire) and The Avenue School (another primary school in Brent, London). It has been argued that – given the existence of over 4,700 state-funded Church of England schools, over 2,100 Catholic, 33 Jewish and 28 Methodist schools – Muslim campaigns for Islamic faith schooling in the state sector is indicative of “a modern society which is widely perceived as increasingly secular but is paradoxically increasingly multi-faith” (Skinner, 2002: 172). Thus until 2010 there were predominantly two broad types of faith schools in England and Wales. These were privately funded independent schools and voluntary-aided denominational schools. The School Standards and Framework Act introduced the concept of a ‘religious character’ in 1998 thus modifying the range of types of school receiving state funding (UK Parliament, 1998). Of these schools voluntary-aided (VA) schools are free to have denominational religious education. Voluntary-aided schools with a religious character are funded up to 90 percent by local authorities, with outstanding costs being covered by an associated religious organisation (DfES, 2002: 4). A small number of state-funded faith schools also emerged with the ‘City Academies’ scheme introduced through the Learning and Skills Act 2000 and later shortened to ‘Academies’ with the 2002 Education Act. Within the independent sector, all schools are required to be registered and may be inspected at any time under the 2002 Education Act. Faith schools within this context are independent schools which have registered as having a religious character under the Designation of Schools Having a Religious Character (Independent Schools) (England) Order 2003. Therefore, although there may be instances of schools within the state sector having intakes of almost exclusively Muslim children, this characteristic in and of itself does not define a ‘faith’ school. Muslim ‘faith’ schools in England and Wales currently exist in the following forms: independent fee-paying schools with a distinctive religious character; voluntary-aided schools funded up to 90 percent by the state with a distinctive religious character and denominational Religious Education; academies that are state-funded in partnership with sponsors and/or educational trusts; and state-funded free schools. Although many Muslim children attend madrasahs, these are supplementary classes rather than schools in themselves.

Muslim schools in Britain 79 The faith schools landscape has thus changed significantly over the last two decades. Prior to 1998, the 1993 Education Act provided an opportunity for independent religious schools to apply directly to the Department for Education for state funding through ‘grant-maintained’ status (DfE, 1993). Schools successful in the application process would be answerable to central government rather than to the then ‘local education authorities’. It was this mechanism which allowed for the first independent Muslim schools, the Islamia Primary in Brent and Al-Furqan in Birmingham, to enter the state sector as grant-maintained schools in 1998. With the abolition of ‘grant-maintained status’ in 1999, these schools were incorporated into the voluntary-aided sector. Numbers of statefunded Muslim schools have grown slowly but steadily and between 1998 and 2010 12 voluntary-aided Islamic schools were established in England and Wales. New Labour’s support for the expansion of state-funded Muslim schools was sustained through the 2005 white paper: Higher Standards, Better Schools for All. The white paper invited independent schools to enter the state sector, but a particular emphasis was placed on encouraging Muslim schools to apply for ­voluntary-aided status (DfES, 2010). This rhetoric was sustained in subsequent years with representatives of major faith groups being encouraged to work closely with the government to produce Faith in the system (DCSF, 2007). The paper was centred around a “joint declaration and shared vision of schools with a religious character in twenty-first century England” (DCSF, 2007: 4). The paper identified that nearly 15,000 Muslim children were attending independent schools with a particular religious character. Thus, catering to the needs of these children within the state sector could provide an important contribution to integration and the empowerment of these communities. The primary mechanism for Muslim schools to secure state funding for a denominational school with a distinctive Islamic ‘character’ up until 2010 was through successfully qualifying for voluntary-aided funding. The public policy narratives from 1998 to 2010 facilitated the watershed of establishing the first state-funded Muslim schools in England and Wales and their legacy is manifested in the 12 voluntary-aided Islamic schools currently receiving state funding. In light of the advances made in terms of the enfranchisement of Muslim communities through state funding for Islamic schools, the arrival of the Coalition government in 2010 was met with some anxiety over the level of support that faith communities would continue to receive. Specifically, the advent of the recession, the Coalition’s commitment to ‘austerity measures’ raised questions about the future of financial support for the expansion of Muslim schools. Since the Academies Act (2010), voluntary-aided schools across the board have been faced with balancing the perceived benefits of converting to academy status against the risks of retaining their existing status within a competitive education market. Government statistics indicate that the conversion rate for voluntary-aided schools becoming academies across the sector had reached 33 percent by 2013 (UK Parliament, 2013: 4). In terms of uptake across denominations, Church of England schools appear to be taking the lead with 41 percent having converted

80  Nasar Meer And Damian Breen to academy status by 2013 compared with 25 percent of Roman Catholic schools (UK Parliament, 2013: 4). Whilst this is insightful, the impact of the academy system for Muslim schools is not yet clear. In addition to championing academies, the Academies Act (2010) also provided the framework for Free Schools as a mechanism for ‘communities and faith groups’ (UK Government, 2014) to develop schools to cater to local needs. The development of Muslim schools has raised questions about the implications of these schools for social divisiveness. For example, Rabbi Jonathan Romain argued that faith schools had an instrumental role in the riots in Bradford, Oldham and Leeds in the summer of 2001 (pre-9/11), with the implicit division across religious lines meaning that children may become “suspicious, fearful and hostile” (Romain, 2001: 18). However, it is important to recognise that the ‘schools’ within which intakes had become segregated across religious lines were not actually Muslim ‘faith’ schools. This kind of blurring of the lines between anxieties about Muslim schools and occurrences of segregation in the non-denominational sector have most recently been manifested in media coverage of the ‘trojan horse’ letter sent to Birmingham City Council in 2013. The anonymous letter reportedly identified that schools in Birmingham had been targeted ‘to be taken over’ with a view to running those schools according to ‘strict Islamic principles’ (Kershaw, 2014: 3). An investigation into ‘trojan horse’ found that a systematic strategy had been outlined in the letter for establishing stronger Islamic influence in non-denominational state schools catering for local Muslim communities (Kershaw, 2014: 6). This strategy comprised a five-step process which included identifying groups of Salafi parents and garnering their support, installing governors to ‘drip feed’ ideals for an Islamic school and bringing existing head teachers into discredit and applying pressure until they are removed (Kershaw, 2014: 6). Whilst the investigation identified that there were “concerns which require immediate attention”, it concluded that the “evidence collated to date does not support a conclusion that there was a systematic plot to take over schools” (Kershaw, 2014: 8). It is also worth restating that any issues of concern which might be raised by ‘trojan horse’ are relevant to non-denominational schools with a majority intake of Muslim children, not denominational Islamic schools. Nevertheless, anxieties about publicly funded Muslim schools continue to dominate media narratives on faith schooling. For example, following the announcement in 2011 that the Tauheedul Islam boys school would be the first Muslim free school in the country, the Daily Mail immediately published an article quoting Simon Jones (national executive for the National Union of Teachers) stating that the school was “extremely bad news” for community cohesion and that there will be “potential social problems in the future” (Daily Mail, 2011). Time has revealed that the Tauheedul Islam boys school is now one of two Tauheedul free schools, with its sister institution, a girls secondary, fostering excellent exam results and topping a secondary school league table whilst also being praised for quality of teaching and the behaviour and prospects of its pupils (Evans, 2013). Furthermore, the schools are “non-selective Muslim faith-based schools who

Muslim schools in Britain 81 welcome pupils from all faiths and none” (Tauheedul Education Trust, 2014). Furthermore, the schools are now part of the wider Tauheedul Education Trust, a growing “not for profit multi-academy trust” (TE Trust, 2015) that appears to be engaging in entrepreneurial activities in exactly that way that the 2010 Academies Act has encouraged. The example laid out by the Tauheedaul Education Trust demonstrates arguably the most substantive example of how the new and emerging frameworks around faith schooling have been used effectively within Muslim communities. Yet, recent media narratives around Muslim schools continue to manifest anxieties about problems that might arise with Muslim free schools. This has most notably been the case with the media attention around the Al-Madinah free school in Derby following concerns being raised by OFSTED, the Education Funding Agency and the Department for Education. The exact nature of the concerns raised by the above agencies appears to be primarily focused on ‘financial irregularities’. A number of further issues have been discussed in the media such as the implementation of gender-segregated classes or enforcing compulsory headscarves for female students, but substantive evidence remains elusive. A consistent trend in the media circus around Al-Madinah is that its shortcomings, whatever they may be, are principally attributed to the schools status as a Muslim school rather than as a free school. Within the frameworks for free schools, ‘communities and faith groups’ may very well be free to establish schools to serve local needs, but under the understanding that they are entirely accountable for any difficulties that occur. Thus whilst new and emergent frameworks are available for Muslim communities to utilise in terms of establishing or bringing existing Islamic faith schools into the state sector, it might logically follow that a relative lack of state-led guidance in the process may lead to some reluctance for communities to use these frameworks. Within the context of the recent history of state-funded Muslim schools, the state of mainstream Islamic schooling can be seen to be held in a rather delicate balance with hard-fought, slow-paced and relatively long-standing gains being secured through the voluntary-aided system. An important point to note here is that there is a continually growing demand for Muslim schools in the independent sector. Exact numbers of independent Muslim schools have been difficult to reliably establish in recent years due to two main reasons. Firstly, there has been a tendency for numbers to fluctuate as independent Muslim schools face ongoing instability in the struggle to economically sustain themselves (see Breen, 2009, 2014). As one head of an independent school in the process of applying for state funding at the time of Breen’s research put it: “the impossible we do every day, miracles take a little bit longer. . . .” This indicates that closure is an ongoing and realistic risk faced by a number of independent Muslim schools. Secondly, fluctuations in numbers can be explained by default as the number of independent Muslim schools entering the state-maintained sector increases, albeit slowly. Thus, between the years 2009–13 numbers of independent Muslim schools were thought to number approximately 120 at any one time. More recent analysis appears to reveal that there may have been some expansion in the independent

82  Nasar Meer And Damian Breen sector with the current number of independent Muslim schools totalling 158 (AMS data as of October 2014). Whilst it might not be possible to establish the exact scale of expansion in recent years, it is clear that the number of Muslim schools in the independent sector is on the rise. In line with the apparent recent expansion in the independent sector, numbers of Muslim schools in the state-maintained sector have also increased in recent years. The shift in policy frameworks around faith schooling have coincided with an increase in the number of state Muslim schools. The number of voluntaryaided Muslim schools has remained at 12 since 2009. However, following the 2010 Academies Act, there are now eight Muslim free schools and one Muslim academy. The total number of state-funded Muslim schools in England and Wales is currently 21, with the most substantive recent gains having actually risen out of the new and emergent frameworks for free schools. In the interests of clarity it is worth noting two points here. Whilst numbers of voluntary-aided schools have remained at 12 for a number of years, the single Muslim school operating as an academy was previously a voluntary-aided school. The implication of this is that one school has entered the state sector through voluntary-aided status. The second point to note is that a large number of independent Muslim schools use the term ‘academy’ in their name, although these schools do not receive any state funding. This phenomena has the capacity to distort reality quite dramatically in the public perceptions of the extent of educational enfranchisement Muslim communities have experienced in recent years. Current trends indicate that the new and emergent frameworks around ‘free schools’ are being utilised by Muslim communities. Whilst this is a positive development in terms of the educational and political enfranchisement of British Muslims, this has happened against a backdrop of negative media narratives around a Muslim free school. It is also worth considering that the mechanism which has facilitated the most recent increase in state-funded Islamic schools is that which requires minimal state involvement. Thus, whilst increasing numbers of Muslim free schools may represent important economic gains for British Muslim communities, the extent to which these advances can be considered to represent partnerships with the state such as those manifested in the voluntary aided system is open to question. Within the frameworks for free schools, investment in terms of time, risk and accountability almost exclusively lie with the community founding the school. Having set out the broad policy context, we are able to move to a more ethnographic account of the motivations for Muslim schools in Britain.

Identity articulations Muslim children of school age are numerically disproportionately present in the British education system, making up nearly 6 percent (588,000) of the school population from under 3 percent (1.8 million) of the national population (Halstead, 2005; see Office for National Statistics, 2005). Reflecting the particularly youthful demographic of British Muslims, where 33 percent fall into the 0–15year age bracket and 15 percent into the 16–24-year category (MCB, 2015: 27),

Muslim schools in Britain 83 in some LEAs (Local Education Authority), Muslim children comprise a significant presence within school districts and wards. This is partially the result of concentrated settlement patterns by first generation migrant workers and is sometimes intensified by ‘white flight’ to the suburbs (Simpson, 2005). At the same time, Muslim pupils throughout the British education system herald a diverse ethnic composition which mirrors that of the Muslim population as a whole. Alongside the Pakistani (38 percent) and Bangladeshi (14.9 percent) contingent, it includes Turkish and Turkish Cypriot, Middle-Eastern, East-Asian, African and Caribbean groups (10.1 percent), mixed race/heritage (3.8 percent), Indian (7.3 percent) and not an insignificant number of white Muslims (7.8 percent) (MCB, 2015). Does this reality of ethnic heterogeneity rule out the prospect of an over-arching Muslim identity? According to Tahir Alam, former trustee of Al-Hijrah secondary school, director of the teacher training wing of the Al-Hijrah Trust and former chair of the MCB education committee, it does not so much ‘rule out’ as give emphasis to the differentiation amongst pupils in Muslim schools. It is worth noting how this imagining of a Muslim and Islamic identity in Muslim schooling goes hand in hand with a re-imagining of British identity, which is very evident in Trevathan’s characterisation of the ‘ethos’ of Islamia Primary, one of the oldest Muslim schools in Britain and one of the first to receive state funding: If anything – this school is about creating a British Muslim culture, instead of, as I’ve often said in the press, conserving or saving a particular culture, say from the subcontinent or from Egypt or from Morocco or from wherever it may be. Obviously those cultures may feed into this British Muslim cultural identity, but we’re not in the business of preserving . . . it’s just not feasible and it’s not sensible . . . it’s dead: I mean I’m not saying those cultures are dead but it’s a dead duck in the water as far as being here is concerned. (Trevathan, Interview) Trevathan is obviously keen to partner the Muslim dimension with the British, so that instead of suffocating hybridity or encouraging reification, for example, the outward projection of this internal diversity informs the pursuit of hyphenated identities. The casualty in this ‘steering’ of British Muslim identity is the geographical origin conception of ethnicity, witnessed in the scramble to deemphasise ‘ethnic culture’ in favour of an ecumenical Islamic identity. This is elsewhere evident in the complaint that there are a lack of provisions within comprehensive schooling to cater for identity articulations that are not premised upon the recognition of minority status per se, but which move outward on their own terms in an increasingly confident or assertive manner, based upon the subscription to common Islamic traditions. Idreas Mears, director of the Association of Muslim Schools (AMS) stresses this position: [S]tate schools do not handle the meaning of Muslim identity well for the children. In actual fact, the way that general society looks at Muslims is as

84  Nasar Meer And Damian Breen an immigrant minority-ethnic-racial-group and how young people are made to look at themselves through the teaching in state schools tells them ‘you are this marginal group/minority group and have therefore got to integrate with the mainstream’. So there’s a process of marginalisation and that often leads to resentment. But in a Muslim school that identity is built upon being a Muslim not an ethnic minority. . . . I think it gives young people a greater sense of who they are and how they can interact in society and therefore learn that Islam is not just a thing that is relevant to minority rights. Islam is relevant to economy, to foreign policy, etc. which means that we’re not getting on to a stationary train but a train that is moving. (Mears, Interview 1 April 2006) This ‘train’ moves between sites of boundary maintenance in which Mears expresses a ‘clean’ version of Muslim identity free from ethnic and racial markers. While this view ignores the lived reality, Mears appears to express it more as a hope to be realised through Muslim schooling. This desire corresponds with findings from Patricia Kelly’s (1999: 203) ethnographic study of schooling choices among Muslim parents with both secular and Islamic worldviews, which concluded, “as some less-religious families do opt for specifically Muslim education, we can consider this as an example of a decision selectively to emphasise this pan-ethnic [Muslim] group identity, in order to reap whatever benefits – economic, social and psychological as well as spiritual – it offers.” A similar rationale permeates the Association of Muslim Social Scientists’ (AMSS) (2004: 11) manifesto, Muslims on Education, in which ‘Muslim’ refers “not only [to] practising adherents of Islam, but also those who identify themselves ‘Muslim’ (without necessarily being practising) or who belong to a household or family that holds Islam as its descendant faith.” This conception of Muslim identity is expressed and consolidated in survey data that inevitably includes both types, behavioural and attitudinal, but reports that 74 percent of a representative adult Muslim sample in Britain say that religion is ‘very important’ to them (Modood et al., 1997: 331) without necessitating an inquiry into their degree of religiosity, let alone religious practice. It also emphasises that much of the motivation for Muslim schooling reflects the desire of some Muslim parents who embrace it as means through which to instil some sense of Muslim heritage in all its heterogeneity. It is worth noting, however, that there is no entirely coherent view amongst Muslim parents on faith schooling1 and, since over 97 percent of Muslim children are educated in state schools, most Muslim parents who pursue religious continuity for their children have had to do so within relatively inflexible educational contexts. It is this realisation that has made schooling a “major area of struggle for equality of opportunity and assertion of identity” (Ansari, 2004: 298), and an area where “in the face of major opposition from broad sections of . . . society” (ibid). Muslims have succeeded in having some basic ‘needs’ recognised, e.g., provision of Halal (Kosher) meals (Meer et al., 2009). This

Muslim schools in Britain 85 has informed – and been informed by – a parallel debate about the schooling of ethnic minority children which has been raging since the 1960s: the role and content of the school curricular, and parental rights (Crowther, 1959; Newsom, 1963; Plowden, 1967; Coard, 1971; Bagley, 1973; Rampton, 1982; Swann Report, 1985; Burnage Report, 1989; Basit, 1997; Cantle, 2001; Commission on Integration and Cohesion, 2007). For British Muslims, whether parents are advocates for separate schooling or not, educational empowerment means access to options parallel with choices available to other groups. The onus is then placed upon the state to accommodate Muslim communities, parents and children as they have other faiths. The validity of this rationale, that Muslim minorities who mobilise for Muslim faith schooling are simply seeking an expansion of the faith schooling sector, is rejected by prominent figures in both anti-religious and anti-racist camps alike. Terry Sanderson, President of the National Secular Society, for example, argues that . . . we’re heading towards a catastrophe unless the government change their policy . . . The more Christian ones they create, the more the clamour becomes for Muslim schools to be created and I think it’s a disaster because the only way that we’re going to break down barriers between people is to bring them together at a very early age and this government is going in completely the opposite direction to that. (Interview with Terry Sanderson, 8 June 2007) In less apocalyptic but equally strident terms, Dan Lyndon, director of the ‘black history 4 schools’ project and a member of the Black and Asian Studies Association (BASA), voices similar objections on the grounds of separatism and in-egalitarianism: I am worried about the development of faith schools because I think that just encourages separation . . . Personally, I would never teach in a religious school. Whatever religion, absolutely fundamentally, no. (Interview with Dan Lyndon, 13 June 2007) This is not, of course, a universal view amongst anti-racists, not least because some have, in the past, also endorsed the need for ‘black’ schooling. To this end Lee Jasper, former race equality advisor to the London mayor, clarifies his own position that it’s quite proper to expect the teaching staff and governors to reflect that local community. When majority black churches want to get together and do that they should be able to do so. That doesn’t extend to creating an apartheid regime within education but it does extend to creating the choice for minority communities. (Interview with Lee Jasper, 26 July 2007)

86  Nasar Meer And Damian Breen Perhaps the most nuanced and historically informed objection to an expansion of the faith sector to include Muslim schools is offered by Tony Breslin, Director of the Citizenship foundation: The starting point of the first generations of faith schools were much more monocultural societies. Faith schools, it seems to me, offer a lot in terms of ethos and all the rest of it. I just wonder whether non-faith schools can do the same thing and whether we should seek to get them to do that. . . . Part of the debate clearly about faith schools at the moment, is not really about faith schools, it’s just the specificity of Muslim schools, and I think people should be more honest about that. . . . I don’t think that because a particular group was granted the right to build a faith school 50 years ago, it is a rationale to grant that to a different group now or another group in 50 years time. I think it’s about saying, where is our society at. (Interview with Tony Breslin, 12 June 2007) Breslin is undoubtedly correct to highlight the historical dimension of faith schooling against which contemporary arguments concerning parity are often made, as well as the centrality of Muslim mobilisations to these arguments. Yet, whilst it may be true to say that Muslim communities have been the most vocal in seeking inclusion in the faith schooling sector, it is not the case that this has solely been premised upon the issue of parity for other factors too have been salient.

Muslim motivations for faith schools Holistic education The first and arguably broadest factor stems from the desire to incorporate more faith-based principles into an integrated education system, so that the ‘whole person’ can be educated in an Islamic environment (AMSS, 2004; Hewer, 2001). This would presuppose faith rather than treat it as something extraneous to education and external to its major objects (Ashraf, 1990). For example, one recommendation emerging from the First World Conference on Muslim Education stated that “education should aim at the balanced growth of the total personality through the training of spirit, intellect, the rational self, feelings and bodily senses” (cited in AMSS, 2004: 12). Two approaches proposed by the Association of Muslim Social Scientists (AMSS) in their position paper on Muslim schools include the Steiner and Montessori approaches, both of which encourage personal and team responsibility while “the child’s creativity is also given full freedom for expression” (ibid: 19). Hence the objective is to encourage intellectual, spiritual and moral development within an Islamic setting. Thus, at Islamia School, Abdullah Trevathan states that a key curriculum objective is to prevent sources of Islamic guidance from becoming extrinsic to educational development. In his view, children will only properly know, explore and evaluate knowledge presented

Muslim schools in Britain 87 within an Islamic environment if they are incorporated into Islam’s interpretative traditions: There are two types of views of the divinity in theological perspectives: in classical terms one is tashbih which is like Allah’s nearness, immersion in our daily life or divine interventions in daily affairs, and the other is tanzih: the incomparability or what they call negative theology, the absolute omnipotence, distance from the individual . . . Now I believe what we’re trying to do in this school is to return to a more tashbih . . . it’s very important that they’re [the pupils] exposed to the classical ussal al-fiqh . . . basically the methodology of applying principles to different situations, rather than taking or transporting rules or regulations out of another time and another place . . . literally. (Trevathan, Interview) Perhaps surprisingly, given its pragmatic emphasis upon the present, this proceeds through an introduction to classical Arabic, presented as a conduit through which this holistic immersion can take place: We teach classical Qu’ranic Arabic. We think it’s fundamental to the flowering of Muslim culture that the language of its philosophy, the language particularly of its spirituality is taught. And also there are key concepts such that if you’ve got the Arabic you immediately have access to that nuance, that feeling that the word evokes! (ibid) Islamia School is not alone in this view, for it is common to find the teaching of Qur’anic Arabic listed on many Muslim schools’ curricula and mission statements (IHRC, 2005). This manner of incorporating faith-based principles into an integrated education system, as opposed to a more straightforward approach of teaching genesis or religious history, for example, is also the preferred approach of the Association for Muslim Schools (AMS). To this end, Idreas Mears describes how a child’s understanding of the interpretative traditions within Islam is akin to wielding a powerful educational ‘tool’ that is simultaneously spiritual and educative: Muslims are people that bring down a meaning to an event: we’re creatures of meaning, and a Muslim expresses real meaning by ibadah because we see that the ultimate meaning is to be a worshipper of Allah but then bringing that down onto the axis of events changes how you act in the world. So I think the most important for Muslim schools is to give young people that as a tool in their hands that they can pick up and run with. (Mears, Interview)

88  Nasar Meer And Damian Breen It is important to stress that this view is not advanced naively by Mears. In a measure of increasing confidence, critical self-evaluation and institutional networking, the AMS has been at the forefront of creating an interfaith ‘inspectorate’ to monitor the content and standard of different faith-based schooling. This is informed by the recognition that whilst areas of numeracy and literacy are stringently monitored by the Office for Standards in Education (OFSTED), religious instruction is rarely so. Mears elaborates: The AMS has made an application to the DfES to deliver inspection services for OFSTED inspections of independent Muslim schools. . . . As well as looking at the areas that are necessary in the OFSTED criteria . . . we will be looking at how the school is delivering the religious ethos, because up until this point we accept that Muslim schools are Muslim schools because they say so. There’s no real inspection of that and there can be a whole spectrum of people delivering nothing about Islam at all, but instead being a cultural protection zone for children. . . . (Mears, Interview) Lending some support to Jacobson’s (1997) “religion-ethnic culture distinction”, which argues that ethnicity is increasingly peripheral amongst some British Muslims, Mears is at pains to stress the distinction between a school premised upon an ethnic origin conception of Islam, driven by a desire for ‘cultural protection zones’ and an Islamically driven environment that moves outward to build upon evaluative criteria already established and in place.

Separation of sexes The criticism that Muslim schools can serve as cultural protection zones is sometimes made through pointing to the evidence of Muslim parents’ preferences for single-sex schooling. Through an interpretation of Islam which posits that “after puberty boys and girls should be separated” (Hashmi, 2002: 14), there is certainly a desire to develop ‘safe’ environments, and in this regard single-sex schooling undoubtedly appeals to Muslim parents (Hewer, 2001). The retention of single-sex schools was recommended by the Swann Committee (1985) and their increasing non-availability may also influence Muslim parents’ interest in faith schooling. According to Hussain of Al-Hijrah School, a school which maintains separate teaching rooms, the motivation for single-sex schooling is “to ensure that they [pupils] are more focused on their studies . . . it is primarily about their learning.” Elsewhere, the Muslim Parents Association (MPA) formed in 1974 on this single issue, and continues to support the creation of a number of independent single-sex Muslim schools. In addition to Al-Hijrah, the creation of Feversham College in Bradford was to some extent modelled on Catholic faith schooling (Halstead, 1988) by employing separate teaching rooms (Haw, 1998). It is important to note, however, that this is not a policy desired for primary schooling and is contradicted by some existing co-educational Muslim schools that employ mixed teaching classes.

Muslim schools in Britain 89

Specialist training A third factor informing the Muslim interest in faith schooling is the current lack of specialist training in Islamic religious sciences, the provision of which might allow young people to “be educated to serve their communities as potential religious leaders” (Hewer, 2001: 518). This includes the desire to have more British trained theologians capable of discussing theological issues with a contemporary resonance to the lived experiences of being Muslim in Britain. The immediacy of this requirement is illustrated with the example of unsuitable religious instructors, including non-British imams that are unfamiliar with the particular contexts and experiential lives of Muslims in Britain. Trevathan elaborates: [T]here’s a vacuum here because the mosques just aren’t set up to deal with the problems of modern people. If you import an imam from Egypt or from Pakistan and somebody comes to them with a problem which is within a modern European context, it would often be things that the imams would have never encountered in their lives and so have no means – or the wrong means – of dealing with it. (Interview) The dynamics informing the balance that schools must achieve in off-setting the desire for ‘home-grown’ religious instructors, with broader and more wideranging programmes of education, are traced out by Alam: There are schools that do actually give more curriculum time to more traditional sciences, you call it theology but I would call it traditional sciences to do with Sunnah and Hadith and those sorts of subjects . . . but they also do English, maths and science . . . they just don’t allocate as much time to these subjects as they would if the school was funded by the state. So there you have the flexibility as an independent institution so, currently, all those that are state-funded couldn’t have the luxury of being able to do that. I think schools would say that yes they would like more time but there’s not enough time to deliver the national curriculum, which is a requirement, as well as devoting adequate time to really focus properly on some of the traditional sciences and subjects as well. So there’s a trade-off, I suppose, and a debate about the balance in each school. (Alam, Interview) Muslim educationalists thus point to an inevitable limitation in the scope to incorporate, into the state sector, schools that do deliver a greater proportion of theological education and training: If a school wants to retain an emphasis on teaching traditional sciences, and for them that’s important perhaps, then they may well be reluctant to receive funding because they then have to teach the national curriculum and

90  Nasar Meer And Damian Breen compromises have to be made on other things such as teaching the Qu’ran and Islamic history to a level they would like and so on. So some of those institutions that specialise in these areas are not going to come into the state sector, because if they did they’d have to drop everything else and change the nature of their institution to a very large degree and that’s not what they’re about. (ibid) The enthusiasm for, or hesitation at, becoming co-opted into the state sector should not therefore simply be assumed, but taken on a case-by-case basis.

Ethnocentric curricula on Islam Fourthly, in order to impart more accurate knowledge of Islamic civilisations, literature, languages and arts, there is a desire to see broader aspects of Islamic culture embedded within the teaching and ethos of school curricula. In their study, Douglass and Shaikh (2004) found that throughout commonly used textbooks, Islam is rarely portrayed in the ways its adherents understand but more through the ethnocentric perspectives of editors who frame their commentary for textbook adoption committee audiences. Common examples of the sorts of inaccuracies include the portrayal of the Prophet Muhammad as the ‘inventor’ of Islam, rather than a messenger or prophet, as well as an artificial separation of Islam from other monotheistic faiths. This has led Ameli, Azami and Merali (2005: 26) to argue that “it is difficult to escape the conclusion that textbooks deliberately downplay or exclude connections between Islam and Abraham in order to maintain neat partitions among the symbols, beliefs and major figures.” This complaint feeds into the broader charge that Local Education Authorities (LEAs) have only “tinkered with the largely ethnocentric curricula, leaving Muslim children feeling alienated and with damaged self-esteem” (Ansari, 2002: 22).

Low educational attainment Finally, there is concern over the lower educational attainment of some Muslim children, Bangladeshi and Pakistani boys in particular, and the belief that increased accommodation of religious and cultural difference will help address this and prevent further marginalisation from taking place. According to Office for National Statistics (2004) data, nearly 50 percent of men and women of Bangladeshi ethnic origin and 27 percent of men and 40 percent of women of Pakistani ethnic origin hold no academic qualifications (see also Haque (2002)). Educational outcomes amongst young Muslims in relation to this general ethnic breakdown are similarly concerning. Only 30 percent of young males with Pakistani and Bangladeshi ethnic origin, according to some sources, achieved five GCSEs2 at grades A*–C, compared with 50 percent of the national population as a whole.3 According to Halstead (2005: 136), these figures indicate a “sense of alienation and disaffection felt by many young male Muslims at school,” an assertion given

Muslim schools in Britain 91 empirical support in a study undertaken by the IQRA Educational Trust (see Pye, Lee and Bhabra (2000), and which was also raised by the Commission on the Future of Multi-Ethnic Britain (CMEB) (2000: 152) in its recommendation that government implement targets to decrease the number of school exclusions currently experienced by some Muslim groups. While it is accepted that parental education and social class play an important role in shaping these educational outcomes, Halstead (2005: 137) lists a host of other issues that are perceived to be relevant by Muslims themselves: “religious discrimination; Islamophobia; the lack of Muslim role models in schools; low expectations on the part of teachers; time spent in mosque schools; the lack of recognition of the British Muslim identity of the student” (see also Coles, 2008). According to Alam, Muslim schools sensitive to these experiences can help elevate educational outcomes On the whole the Muslim schools are performing pretty well; they’re better than their like for like in state sector . . . In terms of the focus they provide for their children, and the dedication, and quite often many of the teachers in these schools are not even qualified teachers, yet their students get better results than people who are qualified! You do get examples where Muslim schools in the independent sector perform badly, but they’re resource issues really, to do with under-funding and not really anything else . . . shoestring budgets and you can’t really do anything on those. Barring those sorts of schools, and there are a few around, the vast majority of schools in fact – if you take into account the student budgets that they operate on – what they do is in fact quite remarkable. (Alam, Interview) The academic achievements of Muslim schools Alam is pointing to include the examples of 100 percent of GCSE entrants from Al-Furqan Community College (Birmingham), Leicester Islamic Academy, Madani School (Tower Hamlets), Tayyibah School (Hackney) and Brondesbury College (Brent) achieving five or more passes at grades A*–C, along with Feversham College (Bradford) achieving 53 percent of such passes, higher than the national average (and well above the Bradford average).

The form and structure of Muslim schools Where Muslim parents have opted out of the state sector, these desires have resulted in the creation of over 100 independent schools with a Muslim ethos, educating over 14,000 pupils from ethnically diverse communities in predominantly inner city areas. These institutions deliver both ‘secular’ and Islamic education, and are best described as Muslim schools with “the goal of living up to the standards of Islam, rather than implying its achievement” (Douglass and Shaikh, 2004: 8). Typically established in homes, mosques and similar buildings by groups of concerned parents and community activists (Hewer, 2001: 518), the vast majority are low-fee schools in poorer quality buildings which,

92  Nasar Meer And Damian Breen unsurprisingly, lack many of the facilities common to state schools (Walford, 2003). The main reason for this is financial insecurity. Since they rely upon community support and are seldom purpose-built, they may open and close depending upon the resources and stability afforded by the local Muslim communities themselves. Thus every school is, according to Trevathan, “a microcosm of the society around it,” which means that despite being private institutions, they are better thought of as ‘community-based schools’ since they rarely operate commercially. A fascinating illustration of these schools’ community focus can be found in the example of pastoral advice to pupils’ parents, as Trevathan describes: One of the things we’ve realised frequently is that first of all we’re not just a school – we’re much more. In many ways, we’re educating parents as much as we’re educating children and frequently we get a request for an appointment to see me and they’ll insist that it’s something personal, and then they’ll come in and they won’t be parents or prospective parent, but a married couple having relationship problems. So myself and Sheikh Ahmed, who is the imam here, would – if we could – give some marriage counselling. And we will do that if the parents are of our children because it’s part of our responsibility to the children as educators. (Interview with Meer) All independent schools are now required to register with the Department of Education and Skills under The Education (Independent School Standards) (­England) Regulations (2003). Failure to do so invites the prospect of closure and since the criteria are not dissimilar from the conditions that must be met before a Voluntary Aided (VA) status can be achieved, it was feared that these guidelines would have a disproportionate affect on Muslim schools. It is therefore surprising that these guidelines were viewed by the AMS as a process necessary to raising the basic standards of all would-be Muslim schools. This is evident in Mears’ account: There always was a history of starting up and then not managing to continue. . . . Now if they get through the registration process they’re prone to grow very quickly. At this point I actually welcome anything that makes Muslim schools more rigorous in their own standards and it doesn’t just have to be about the registration and inspection process which looks at the general criteria of education. Now, where they do come into existence, they’re stronger schools than they would otherwise have been. (Interview) Of course the incentive for official registration is the accompanying professional inspection and advice, with the long-term aim of becoming co-opted into the state sector under the status of VA school. This process has often been coordinated by organisations such as the AMS and the Islamic Schools Trust (IST), which facilitate many schools’ dialogue with LEAs and central government. So these are some of the issues involved in the processes but what the discussion thus

Muslim schools in Britain 93 far has not addressed, however, is how Muslim educators respond to some of the key arguments against Muslim schools. These range from a principled philosophical opposition to all faith schooling through to more focused arguments concerning the nature of Muslim schools in particular.

The argument for autonomies One of the most commonly held views of education is that it should cultivate the development of rational and moral autonomy. This position opposes all forms of faith schooling and strenuously argues that all autonomy-supporting societies must guard children from “believers who wish to impose on them a nonautonomous conception of the good life” (White, 1990: 105). This is a central argument contained within the Humanist Philosophers’ Group’s (HPG) (2001: 10) influential report, Religious Schools: The Case Against. This begins by charging faith schooling with ‘indoctrination’, characterised as limiting the autonomy of a child by implanting beliefs that neither empirical evidence nor rational argument might change. The implication of this perspective is that young people in religious schools are denied the opportunity to develop the competencies in making informed choices, specifically because such schools are predisposed to indoctrinate and proselytise. There are two very interesting and equally challenging responses to this argument. The first begins by rejecting the a priori assumption that faith schools are necessarily out to indoctrinate and proselytise. For example, Muslim educators view their schools as a place of holistic education, and argue that “if the teacher speaks about something and says that within this understanding there are other views which he or she or ‘the Muslims’ may not agree with for such and such a reason – then you’re presenting the child with a fuller picture” (Trevathan, Interview). This might potentially be viewed as an example of what Terrence McLaughlin (1992: 123), the late education philosopher, described as one of a multiple launch pads for autonomy, in which “a legitimate starting point is from the basis of experience of a particular ‘world view’ or cultural identity; a substantiality of belief, practice or value, as in (say) a certain sort of religious school.” This offers a more contextual comprehension of how a child’s autonomy may be developed and is more comfortable with competing conceptions of education amongst different cultural constituencies within a multicultural context that is not hostile to the wishes of religious peoples (Modood, 2007; Spinner-Halev, 2000). In this way, it is plausible that faith schools could adopt an educational approach that is relatively neutral – such as those favoured by the AMS and mentioned earlier. Thus, and because children have to accept many things on trust in order eventually to progress to autonomy (and possibly reject those things later), religion could be treated no differently. The HPG rightly questions, however, whether indoctrination can ever be avoided, given the difficulty of teaching religion in such a way that children can grasp and appreciate it in any depth without necessarily accepting beliefs which are difficult, if not impossible, to revise or reject

94  Nasar Meer And Damian Breen when one has reached an adult age. This is an important criticism which leads to a related debate about the nature of religious knowledge and the conditions under which it can be acquired. Of course the Muslim perspective eschews the idea of reason being tainted by ‘The Fall’ since in Islam humanity is brought into the world in a state of innocence (fitra) much like a blank sheet (tabula rasa). This means, “the concept of ‘original sin’ as presented in Christian theology is non-existent in the newborn child” (Hussain, 2004: 319). What we should take from Ahdar and Leigh (2005) is the implication that unless a child acquires this knowledge at a sufficient depth of understanding, they will not be able to exercise valid consent anyway, so that from their perspective the goal of autonomy is already thwarted. Accordingly, the curriculum and environment of the religious school may be essential to the achievement of a level of understanding that makes informed consent (and thus autonomy) possible. The second potential response to the HPG’s charge of indoctrination has two parts to it but begins by making a relational argument which contests the assumption that secular schools can avoid indoctrination by being a-religious. For example, Arnsone and Shapiro (1996) point to a sleight of hand in non-religious contexts where certain possibilities or options are only made available to adults because they have prioritised them to the exclusion of many others in childhood, e.g., developing skills in certain arts or sports. As Ahdar and Leigh (2005: 228) argue, “The rigorous keeping of a child’s future to maximise adult opportunities would, in effect, deprive the child of the possibility of becoming a professional ballerina or footballer. Could it not be argued that the same applies to religious upbringing?” A much stronger objection is made by Grace (2002: 14), however, who laments the degree of bad faith central to the charge of indoctrination against religious faith schools. This is because secular schools are not themselves ideologically free zones, and carry “their own ideological assumptions about the human person, the ideal society” which “characteristically permeate the ethos and culture of state-provided secular schools and form a crucial part of the ‘hidden curriculum’.” The view that there is a bias permeating secularist charges against faithbased schooling is shared by some Muslim educators. Although this often begins by pointing to the inconsistency described by Grace (2002), if we follow Trevathan and Mears’s response to this charge, we find a more qualified and nuanced insight than that premised upon the equivalence argument alone: I’m not arguing that indoctrination doesn’t take place here; it’s just that it also takes place everywhere else. Secular society continues to see itself outside of dogma and doctrine – but that’s ridiculous because it uses both to indoctrinate a system of beliefs and values. Now, there is reprehensible indoctrination and I think that is when the child is not made free to make decisions concerning their own thinking. In the classroom, that would translate into the teacher telling them that such and such is the case and any other argument is false. (Trevathan, Interview)

Muslim schools in Britain 95 All schools are indoctrinating processes . . . I think there are stages of education that ought to make your understanding of that process more acute, and I don’t think that enough emphasis is given in education to the play aspect, for too many formal learning processes are coming in too early. (Mears, Interview) This then rehearses the objection to viewing non-religious schooling as a neutral enterprise, and simultaneously invites the different and equally broad objection to modes of political integration that try to separate public and private spheres in some liberal-civic convention (cf Guttman, 1994). The distinction is elaborated after a consideration of the relationship between these conceptions of autonomy and conceptions of ‘good citizenship’.

Good citizens There is a genuine and problematic tension between espousing an HPG type of radical autonomy argument against religious education whilst, simultaneously, holding the reasonable view that the education process should contribute to the cultivation of future ‘good citizens’. This is epitomised by states’ interest in ascribing and inculcating liberal or civic virtues, a point famously set out in Rawls’s (1993: 199) formulation: . . . political liberalism . . . will ask that children’s education will include such things as knowledge of their constitutional and civic rights so that, for example, they know that liberty of conscience exists in their society and that apostasy is not a legal crime . . . Moreover, their education should also prepare them to be fully cooperating members of society and enable them to be self-supporting; it should also encourage the political virtues so that they want to honour the fair terms of social cooperation in their relations with the rest of society. This sort of thinking has permeated the drive in Britain for citizenship education (Qualifications Curriculum Authority, 1998), which entails a clear desire to engender a particular ‘civic morality’ amongst young people through imparting knowledge of political functions and historic practices, as one of the opening paragraphs of the report chaired by Sir Bernard Crick makes clear: We aim at no less than a change in the political culture of this country both nationally and locally: for people to think of themselves as active citizens, willing, able and equipped to have an influence in public life and with the critical capacities to weigh evidence before speaking and acting; to build on and extend radically to young people the best in existing traditions of community involvement and public service, and to make them individually confident in finding new forms of involvement and action among themselves. (Qualifications Curriculum Authority, 1998: paragraph 1.5)

96  Nasar Meer And Damian Breen This begs the question, however, as to when the impetus behind wanting to form ‘good’ or ‘active’ citizens will actually conflict with the growing autonomy of the child. To put it another way: “at what point should he or she be free to reject liberalism and make mature, illiberal, choices of his or her own?” (Ahdar and Leigh, 2005: 231). The implication being that to make the objection to faith schools on the basis that they might curtail the child’s autonomy can be inconsistent, given that the inculcation of any sort of civic morality can be subject to the same charge. This is an argument elaborated in Meer et al. (2009), but another way of stating it here would be to insist that education for citizenship must necessarily proceed with attention to the social, through the reciprocal balance of rights and responsibilities that confer upon its recipients a civic status that affords those pupils equal opportunity, dignity and confidence.

The civic inclusion of Muslim constituencies This embedded reading of autonomy can be interpreted as a critique of liberal perfectionist thinking that is often too abstracted from the lived relations and realworld contexts in which Muslim schools seek to operate. It is an argument made by Parekh (2000: 202–3) when he contests the civic assimilationist approach, based upon a neat separation of public and private spheres, on the grounds that such a view fails to take account of institutions that encompass both: The school educates future citizens, and has a political dimension. However, since children are not just citizens but also human beings and members of the relevant cultural communities, their parents and cultural community have a vital interest in their education, which makes the school a cultural institution that belongs to private or civic realm. If we stressed the former, we would have to treat the school as a public institution subject to the control of the state and ignore parental choices and cultures; if the latter, we would reach the opposite conclusion. Sympathy for this view would allow for the recognition of other, intersecting issues affecting the articulation of Muslim identities in Britain (Roy, 2004). The shape and impact of these issues are subject to debate, but amongst Muslims in Britain it is evident that there is an attempt to reconfigure what being a Muslim in the West means, and that part of this process is linked to the issue of schooling. As Johnson and Castelli (2002: 33) have argued: “Islam in the West is itself undergoing a change. As part of this change, Muslim schools are engaged in creating an identity for the school, the students and the larger communities associated with them.” Many aspects of this argument are expressed both as a hope and objective amongst Muslim educators. This has already been elaborated in Abdulla Trevanthan’s view that – if anything – Islamia School is about creating

Muslim schools in Britain 97 a British Muslim culture, and which fits nicely with Mears’s description of the same phenomena: I think that what is interesting is that a kind of British Muslim Identity is only just emerging. I think that’s basically because the schools and communities were controlled by a framework led by the elder generation and that people still saw themselves as an immigrant minority coming together to protect their culture, and in a sense still relate to another place being home. This argument returns us to the third issue motivating the desire for Muslim faith schooling. This is linked to the aspiration for more British trained theologians who could discuss theological issues with a contemporary resonance to the lived experiences of being a British Muslim. It is argued that such d ­ evelopments – if publicly endorsed – herald opportunities through which Muslim children would be able to confidently negotiate and reconcile the requirements of their faith with their rights and responsibilities as British citizens. This is substantiated in the words of Alam: You have to remember that the Muslim community is a very recent community in this country, we’re a very young community, but I think the participation levels within the last five years . . . and the vibrancy of participation has been very encouraging . . . There’s a lot of work to be done of course, and this is a challenging situation that we find ourselves in. That we are under higher scrutiny than other communities, and how we respond to that and change wider society’s perceptions perhaps will be essential to how the Muslim community develops. (Alam, Interview) These relationships are, therefore, almost dialectical – an assessment made elsewhere by Hussain (2004: 322), who concludes that “Muslim schools are needed so that Muslim youth will be able to comprehend and contextualise Islam in their environment” (emphasis added).

Conclusion The preceding analysis has explored how Muslim identities can inform the movement for Muslim schools, and specifically the various reasons that some Muslim minorities are seeking an incorporation and reflection of this Muslim identity within the arena of education. Where Muslim constituencies are granted greater participatory space in the shape of provisions for Muslim schooling, it is evident from the testimonies of Muslim educators that a synthesis between faith requirements and citizenship commitments is a first-order priority. It is also evident that this movement is seeking out a negotiated, and reciprocal, British Muslim identity. As such, the mobilisation for Muslim schools marks an important shift

98  Nasar Meer And Damian Breen in the movement for a self-constructed identity. An engagement with a range of established educational conventions, norms, regulations and precedents suggests that Muslims in Britain are demonstrating a willingness and ability to contribute to the educational landscape something that is both novel and beneficial to society as a whole.

Notes 1 While there is no national survey of Muslim parents’ desires on this issue, the Fourth National Survey of Ethnic Minorities (1997) found that the ethnic composition of a school was more important for white respondents than it was for ethnic minorities, whilst preference for religious composition interestingly ranged from Catholics, who were the most inclined to desire faith-based schools, to Hindus, who were the least inclined for faith-based schooling, with Muslims and Protestants falling somewhere in the middle (see Modood et al., 1997: 323). 2 The General Certificate of Secondary Education (GCSE) is the standard qualification for students enrolled in compulsory schooling until the age of 16 years. 3 For a much fuller statistical summary, see Halstead’s (2005) excellent discussion from which I draw.

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Part II

Curriculum and pedagogy

6 Reconceptualising madrasah education Towards a radicalised imaginary Yusef Waghid

Introduction This essay offers an account of the ‘integration’ of knowledge that is premised on a non-bifurcatory (that is, non-separationist view) of knowledge. It is argued that a non-bifurcatory or non-dichotomous view of knowledge is critical to an understanding of a reconceptualised view of madrasah education. A non-dichotomous view of knowledge is constitutive of a reformed notion of madrasah education. Some of the implications of a non-dichotomous view for teaching and learning are examined concomitantly with human agency vis-à-vis the implementation of a radicalised imaginary of madrasah education in primary and secondary schools. Furthermore, the practice of rethinking madrasah education in the modern world is in itself an acknowledgement that knowledge (re)construction and deconstruction is ongoing as people perpetually engage in meaning making. More significantly, rethinking madrasah education is an act of interpretation, that is, an attempt to make clear, to make sense of text which might in some way be confused, incomplete, cloudy, unclear and seemingly contradictory in one way or another (Taylor, 1985: 1). So, rethinking madrasah education accounts for that which is strange, mystifying, puzzling, unclear and contradictory. By way of introduction, I shall offer an account of what can be understood by ‘integration’ of knowledge, and simultaneously offer a non-bifurcatory (that is, non-­ separationist view) of knowledge. I then argue as to how such a non-bifurcatory or non-dichotomous view of knowledge manifests in a notion of madrasah education. Put differently, I posit as to how madrasah education ought to be perceived and or constructed in consonance with a non-dichotomous view of knowledge. Finally, I examine some of the implications of a non-dichotomous view for teaching and learning and what teachers and policy makers ought to do vis-à-vis the implementation of a radicalised imaginary of madrasah education in primary and secondary schools.

Integration of knowledge and Islamisation This brings me to a discussion of integration of knowledge in relation to the notion of ‘Islamisation’. The integration of knowledge in Islam has been the

106  Yusef Waghid subject of debate over the last few decades and gained prominence under the guise of the notion of ‘Islamisation’. To Ismail al-Faruqi, Islamisation of knowledge offers a comprehensive framework for society and individuals through which to amend and re-interpret knowledge through an Islamic worldview (1982: 30). Islamisation of knowledge, as proposed by al-Faruqi, was a direct response to what he defined as the malaise of the ummah (community). Conceptually, Islamisation offered an alternative to modern secular society and what is perceived to be its negative impact on the Islamic world. Al-Faruqi’s (1988) proposal of Islamisation involved a detailed, 12-step work plan, which incorporates the mastery of modern disciplines, the mastery of an Islamic legacy, a survey of the ummah’s (Muslim community’s) major problems and recasting the disciplines under the framework of Islam and the dissemination of Islamised knowledge. The objective of his understanding of Islamisation was to re-approach the disciplines – such as sociology, economics and anthropology – so that Islam is foregrounded. To him, Islamisation means the recasting of every discipline on the principles of Islam – its methodology, its strategy, data, its problems, objectives, as well as its aspirations. Islamisation, as both an ideological and epistemological construct, has undoubtedly assumed its forms in relation to the (de)secularisation of knowledge. Whereas in some instances Islamisation seems to have emerged in juxtaposition with secularisation, which is mostly perceived to be Western knowledge, in other instances Islamisation has been couched in stark opposition to and dismissal of the secular. Rahman (1982) emerged as a proponent of Islamisation as a form of knowledge construction which does not dismiss what can be perceived as secular and argued vehemently for the ‘modernisation’ of knowledge within Muslim societies – that is, to integrate all forms of knowledge (including the ‘secular’) with important concepts of Islam. In other words, higher forms of learning, irrespective of where they come from, have to be integrated with Islamic values for both individual and social life and such knowledge also has to be subjected to Qur’anic interpretation or a view of Islamic metaphysics. Thus, for Rahman (1988: 4), all forms of knowledge, including secular knowledge, can be considered as having been Islamised if subjected to these principles. The desecularisation of knowledge propounded by al-Attas (1980) involves “the deliverance of knowledge from its interpretations based on secular ideology; and from meanings and expressions of the secular” (1980: 5). Although the aforementioned understandings of Islamisation seem to be different at first glance, there is some synergy between the two explications in that both Rahman and al-Attas do not denounce secular or Western knowledge in its entirety. Rather they advocate accentuating principles such as religion (din), man (insan), justice (‘adl) and right action (adab), which should infuse Muslims’ acquisition of knowledge (Wan Daud, 1997: 12). However, not all scholars have been in agreement with the objectives of Islamisation, or whether it is at all attainable. In labelling the Islamisation project as incoherent, Farid al-Attas (2008) is of the opinion that Islamisation of knowledge has more to do with an epistemological framework than with an actual discipline. The inconsistency of understandings regarding Islamisation would begin to explain why not much progress has been made in terms of Islamising disciplines,

Reconceptualising madrasah education 107 and why the extant work lies between a tendency of being too abstract or obscure. Other criticisms include that Islamisation has been too pre-occupied with concepts of Western secularised education that clear principles for an Islamic epistemology or methodology have yet to be articulated. There are also those such as Wan Daud (2009) who, like Rahman, believe that the conception of Islamisation has little to do with the re-working of textbooks or the re-structuring of academic disciplines, but fundamentally to do with the re-constitution of the right kind of human being, specifically referring to al-Attas’s person of adab (right action). According to Wan Daud, Islamic epistemology recognises that knowledge “stripped of the faulty opinions, doubts, and conjectures, as well as negative influence of the various human interests generally termed as hawa, is indeed universal” (2009: 8). This universality rests on two central contentions related to knowledge in Isla¯m. The first is that while knowledge in Islam is extracted from two distinct knowledge forms, namely, ‘ulum al-aqli (knowledge of the rational, human and sciences) and ‘ulum al-naqli (knowledge of the revealed sciences), as encapsulated in the primary sources of the Qur’an and Hadith (Prophetic utterances and conduct), these two forms are not mutually exclusive. This is so because in terms of the epistemologies of tarbiyyah (socialisation), ta’lim (critical engagement) and ta’dib (social activism), any conceptualisation of knowledge ought to have intellectual, judgemental and ethical ramifications. Secondly, to have knowledge of the physical world and the self is to have knowledge of God. It is on this premise that the religion of Islam propagates the seeking of knowledge as a religious obligation. However, irrespective of whether the Islamisation of knowledge has some relation with the (de)secularisation of knowledge, its insistence that knowledge be aimed at enhancing both individual and social development confirm its internal connection to critical reasoning. When knowledge is critically appraised, it is recognised that interpretations of such knowledge are subjected to deliberative scrutiny by others. Rahman’s open-ended approach to knowledge construction, in that interpretations are not monolithic and inflexible, and al-Attas’s position that further elaboration and application of knowledge are inherent in Islamic metaphysics, corroborate the argument that there is always more to know and more with which people should engage. The Qur’an, for instance, as Abu Zayd (2010: 282) explains, responded both explicitly and implicitly to a particular historical context and within a particular intellectual milieu. To this end, it is therefore quite possible, and necessary, to discern between that which can be understood as the universal component of the Qur’an and that which is particular to a specific community. At the core of the critical appraisal of knowledge is that there are no absolutes and that understandings are flexible and always subjected to deliberative scrutiny by others. Such has been the tradition of exegetical scholars, whose commentaries on and interpretations of the traditions of the Prophet (Sunnah) and the Qur’an have always been subjected to examination and scrutiny by other authoritative scholars. By implication, the Islamisation of knowledge cannot and has not been the reserved ownership of a few, and knowledge construction should be associated

108  Yusef Waghid with critical reasoning, since the Qur’an positions itself clearly as a text for all times and places. As such, contend Davids and Waghid (2014: 1490), its (con) textual manifestations will always be subjected to (re)interpretations as Muslims endeavour to live their lives in ethical conduct and obedience to the dictates of its primary sources. Therefore, Islamisation of knowledge is another instance of how knowledge can be integrated. Having explicated these conceptual problems with Islamisation, the essay now turns towards a discussion of the progress of Islamisation in some post-colonial Muslim-majority countries, focusing on the Gulf States and Saudi Arabia, Iran and Malaysia.

Attempts at Islamisation It is important to initially note that in the Gulf States and Saudi Arabia, the fusion of traditional and Western knowledge has been less apparent, considering the concentration of the applied sciences as well as on oil and water economics and geopolitics, and further, they have no established history of higher educational institutes where debates may occur (Shaw, 2006: 41). The curriculum for school and college education, therefore, does not always prepare students adequately for employment, as the job market requires mostly people in applied sciences, maths and technology (Shaw, 2006: 44). Considering the fact that the social sciences and humanities predominate in schools and colleges, the upshot is that curriculum reform integrating the Islamic epistemic traditions within these disciplines has yet to be devised imaginatively (Shaw, 2006: 48). This lack of an integrated curriculum questions the Islamising, and therefore critical orientation of the curricula. Islamisation of the curriculum in schools and universities after the Cultural Revolution in Iran (post-1980) was instigated by the Ayatollah Khomeini, who vehemently denounced Western curricula on the basis that the latter alienated students from their Islamic roots (Levers, 2006: 159). In school textbooks, the emphasis on Iranian nationalism and identity was minimised and importance was given to Islamic identity with “concepts such as justice, equality, morality, devotion to family, absence of malice and avarice, and cooperation with the state . . . advocated as attributes of an Islamic society” (Levers, 2006: 166). Significantly, the commensurability between Islamisation and politicisation (more specifically criticality) was clearly accentuated in textbooks, and the idea that religion ought to be segregated from politics was denounced as a ‘Western’ concept alien to Islam. Despite the fact that the Islamic Republic of Iran regarded the Islamisation of education as important to the political, cultural, societal and economic transformation of society away from the Pahlavi regime’s (1921–79) emphasis on Westernisation, it is recognised that there still is a lack of space for individuality, self-expression and critical thinking in the school curriculum, coupled with an over-emphasis on overtly ideologically driven curricular content that undermines creative thought (Levers, 2006: 172). Similarly, under the Islamic Republic, ‘Islamised’ curriculum changes at universities were accelerated by the compulsory introduction of a series of Islamic texts to supplement the existing curriculum, most notably the books Introduction to Islam and Islamic Revolution and

Reconceptualising madrasah education 109 Its Roots, which became part of the curriculum for all faculties. These books accentuate the importance of questioning and challenging – aspects of autonomy that break with doctrinaire understandings of Islam. Although Islamic texts on themes such as the family in Islam, psychology from an Islamic viewpoint, Islamic economics, Islamic law and Islamic political thought were introduced in specific faculties in universities to supplement the existing curriculum in the social sciences, university textbooks for scientific and technical subjects remained unaltered (Levers, 2006: 161). By implication, the envisaged Islamisation in the aftermath of the revolution has not had the desired consequences, more specifically at the levels of fusion between the traditional and ‘modern’ curriculum. It can be argued that Islamisation thus emerged as a supplementary discourse, rather than as a tenable, integrated initiative to democratise the new curriculum. The Islamisation agenda in Malaysia, pioneered by the Muslim Youth Movement (Angkatan Belia Islam Malaysia or ABIM) in the 1970s and 1980s, was influenced primarily by Syed Muhammad Naquib al-Attas’s intellectual, academic and historical aspirations to transform the lives and thoughts of the majorityMuslim Malay community and had a strong socio-cultural impetus. During this phase of Islamisation, ABIM strongly advocated a discourse of Islamic universalism and its significance for a pluralistic Malaysia, which involved adhering to the democratic teachings of Islam, promoting equal and complementary roles for men and women and promoting social justice for all, irrespective of ethnic and religious affiliation (Bakar, 2009: 38). The main focus of ABIM’s Islamisation programmes was education through their nationwide network of kindergartens and schools (and later Islamic teacher training colleges and universities) through which they advanced the idea of the Islamisation of modern knowledge. In the meanwhile, non-Muslim Malaysians did not feel threatened because of Islamisation’s commitment to intellectual and social conscientisation, despite the fact that the programmes for the Islamisation of knowledge were all directed exclusively at the Malay Muslim community. However, after the Islamisation agenda under the leadership of Mahathir Mohammad became politicised and was adopted as government policy by his ruling United Malays National Organisation (UMNO) party, it was strongly opposed by many non-Muslims: Although his Islamisation programme was mainly directed at the Muslim community, seeking to transform their minds and attitudes to be in line with the requirements of Islam and modernity, his policy of the inculcation of Islamic values in economic development and in the government machinery as well as the creation of a national administration guided by Islam, directed at all Malaysians, was seen by non-Muslims as impinging on their own religious and cultural values. (Bakar, 2009: 41) Despite the suspicions harboured about political Islamisation, the majorityMuslim Malay community recognised the concept as important to the country’s economic, scientific and technological developments, thus acknowledging that Islamisation has both a socio-cultural and politico-economic impetus. This is

110  Yusef Waghid evident in the Islamisation policy of Mahathir’s successor, Abdullah Badawi. His policies, commonly referred to as Islam Hadhari, advocated the principles of faith and piety in Allah; a just and trustworthy government; a free and independent people; mastery of knowledge; balanced and comprehensive economic development; a good quality of life; protection of the rights of minority groups and women; cultural and moral integrity; safeguarding the environment; and strong defences (Bakar, 2009: 42). The Malaysian example represents a maximal form of Islamisation, considering that sufficient emphasis was placed on an integrated Islamised curriculum in schools and universities under the auspices of a government intent on promoting the idea of Islamisation of knowledge. In the 1990s, the government initiated curricular reforms and launched an integrated curriculum for secondary schools in order to inculcate universal religious values in all young people (Hwang, 2008: 159). Through the educational efforts of ABIM, the state’s curriculum for Malay Muslims became integrated with an Islamic philosophy of education in schools (Hwang, 2008: 160). Likewise, at the higher education level, ABIM’s members became influential in the development of the International Islamic University of Malaysia (IIUM), which was largely influenced by the Islamisation agenda of Ismail al-Faruqi, as well as the International Institute of Islamic Thought and Civilisation (ISTAC) under the then directorship of Syed Muhammad Naquib al-Attas. For the majority-Muslim Malays, Islamisation meant that the curriculum in secondary schools and universities was organised to produce citizens who were intellectually, spiritually, emotionally and physically balanced and harmonious, with a strong belief in God (Hashim, 1996: 8). In summary of the progress of Islamisation or integration in the three major Muslim-majority regions in the world – the Gulf States and Saudi Arabia, Iran and Malaysia – it can be claimed that Islamisation has been implemented along a continuum from not having been implemented successfully (having assumed a supplementary orientation) to having been maximally implemented as an integrated curriculum. There are several Muslim-majority countries, such as Turkey, Egypt, Indonesia and Pakistan, that have responded to the Islamisation idea in different forms, but suffice it to add that these countries have either adopted a supplementary or integrated curriculum approach to the idea of the Islamisation of knowledge. Consequently, these countries would not necessarily be in a position to offer an understanding of how Muslim-majority countries that have responded to the Islamisation agenda have actually embraced the idea. Their understandings would be limited to one of three positions: having adopted an undesirable stance, as in the case of the Gulf States and Saudi Arabia; a supplementary position, as in the case of Iran; or a maximally integrated approach as is encountered in Malaysia.

On the possibility of integration: transcending a dichotomous or bifurcatory view of knowledge Education for Muslims everywhere in the world will always be informed by the Qur’an and Hadith (Prophetic statements that encapsulate the Prophet’s life

Reconceptualising madrasah education 111 experiences) irrespective of mere recognition or substantive adjustment or modification of the concepts and practices that constitute education. Firstly, by way of mere recognition, Muslims believe that all knowledge emanates from Allah Almighty as He (Allah) is the All-Wise, the All-Knower. This belief is informed by Qur’an that is replete with verses affirming the ontological parameters of knowledge: “Knower of what is hidden and what is open . . . Exalted in Might, Full of Wisdom” (Qur’an, 64: 18); “They said: Even so says your Lord. Verily, He is the All-Wise, the All-Knower” (Qur’an, 51:30); and “And He it is Who is God in the heavens and God in the earth, and He is the Wise, the Knower” (Qur’an, 43: 84). What the aforementioned Qur’anic injunctions confirm is that all knowledge comes from Allah Almighty. By implication, the Qur’anic revelation, Hadith, tafsir (exegeses), life and earthly sciences, physical and mathematical sciences, historical, cultural and technological sciences, and other human and social sciences, including linguistic sciences constitute knowledge that comes from Allah Almighty. That is, any ‘science’ whether perceived as revealed or constituted in the traditions of people must be underscored by knowledge that comes from Allah Almighty. If the Qur’an constitutes knowledge from a Divine Power, then knowledge embedded in the physical, biological, human, social and technological sciences ought to emanate from Allah Almighty as the latter is the Creator and Originator of life. This means that human beings are both the creation and recipients of knowledge as constituted by and of Allah Almighty. For example, knowledge about earthly metals such as what is learned in the geological sciences must be knowledge (about such metals) which Allah Almighty has instilled in the minds of discoverers of such geological materials. The point is, scientists – regardless of faith – who have discovered the elements of nitrogen, hydrogen and oxygen could only have been inspired by Allah Almighty to have done so (even though they might not want to acknowledge Allah’s role as the Creator of these earthly materials). Equally so, if these earthly metals are implicitly spoken of in the Qur’an in verses pertaining to water and pollution, the vindication that knowledge about these metals, as being from Allah, can be said to be Qur’anically substantiated. Of course, I am not suggesting that the Qur’an gives us a comprehensive and detailed analysis of water as it is, by virtue, a book of guidance rather than a text of advanced geological studies. Yet, it does not preclude one from claiming that knowledge of water is mentioned in the Qur’an as a resource about which people should make discoveries and perform experiments. The argument I am making is to take into controversy the notion of revealed as against non-revealed knowledge. In other words, I wish to depart from the dichotomous view of knowledge that for many years has occupied our thinking in and about knowledge. If a ‘science’ is considered as being revealed, then by its very nature it is considered as containing the ‘words’ (kalam) or messages (ayat) or inspiration (ilham) of Allah Almighty. And if a ‘science’ were to be considered as non-revealed then by implication such a ‘science’ could not have been guided by Allah Almighty. And, considering that Allah is implicit in all forms of knowing and in every kind of knowledge that is constructed in a human’s mind, it does not seem plausible

112  Yusef Waghid to exonerate the Divine Being from knowledge of the mind. Hence, the notion of a non-revealed ‘science’ does not hold water at all. What follows from the aforementioned analogy is that all knowledge, certainly for Muslims, is revealed as Allah Almighty is legitimately the Originator of knowledge in its multiple forms. And, to dichotomise revealed from non-revealed knowledge seems to be to introduce a dichotomy which humans have constructed. Let me hasten to add that I do not discount the claim that human beings have been created with a conscious will to choose between the useful application of knowledge and the use of knowledge for destructive purposes, or that humans willfully and consciously choose to enact and use their knowledge in contravention of Allah Almighty. For instance, nuclear scientists produce nuclear power to generate heat and electricity which can usefully be applied for a population’s development. Alternatively, the nuclear energy can be used to cause catastrophic destruction to humanity through the use of nuclear weapons. Knowledge comes from Allah Almighty but this does not mean that the exercise of the person’s choice in the application of knowledge can be deemed Allah Almighty’s responsibility. Thus, although all knowledge comes from Allah Almighty and that human beings have a choice in the application of knowledge, Allah Almighty cannot be held accountable for the destructive ways in which knowledge is and might be used. Now, if knowledge should not be dichotomised as revealed and non-revealed knowledge, how should the existing categorisations or specialisations of knowledge be considered, and should the existing categorisations be given any consideration at all? Before I address this issue, I shall attend to the notion of integration. Now if one considers that to integrate means to bridge the separation between two things or events, it follows that to integrate knowledge streams is to bring them into contact with each other. What this means is that the integration of knowledge streams or paradigms (ways of thinking) implies that one kind of knowledge has to be brought into contact with another kind of knowledge. In other words, for purposes of madrasah education, knowledge of the Qur’an, Hadith, fiqh (jurisprudence), shari’ah (law), tarih (history) and kalam (theology) – a particular stream of knowledge commonly known as Islamic sciences – has to be brought into contact with knowledge of a different stream which might be constituted by the life and earthly sciences, physical sciences and mathematics, human, social and technological sciences. What this means is that no single stream of knowledge (or discipline of knowledge for that matter) ought to be considered as superior to another stream of knowledge as all forms or streams of knowledge are guided by Allah’s inspiration. What is more appropriate regarding the integration of knowledge streams is that connections ought to be made that grow out of an understanding of the intended purposes of knowledge. Let me elaborate. If one considers that madrasah education is aimed at contributing to the spiritual development, life-long learning, social consciousness, the visionary dynamism of learners and an induction into a particular world and life-view – i.e., the rationale or guiding principle of such an education system – of a specific community, then the organisation and or arrangement of the curricular content (i.e., the ways in which the rationale ought to manifest in the practices of Muslims)

Reconceptualising madrasah education 113

•Quranic sciences •Hadith sciences Spirituality

Social consciousness

•Life sciences, earth sciences and environmental sciences •Physical and mathematical sciences

•Human and social sciences Life-long learning •Technological sciences and visionary dynamism

Figure 6.1 Integrated streams of knowledge

ought to be constituted by this particular rationale. A schematic representation of such a form of integration between two different streams of knowledge for primary and secondary schools can be represented as follows: What the above schematic representation (Figure 6.1) suggests is that the guiding principle such as cultivating a spiritual, socially conscious, visionary leader and life-long learner is achievable in the way it (the rationale) is realised in the ‘integrated’ streams of knowledge – that is, in the ways connections are made between the two interrelated as opposed to mutually exclusive streams of knowledge. Put differently, integrating knowledge is not something new for policy makers and teachers (educators) to contrive. Rather, ‘integration’ refers to the creative and innovative ways in which content in different streams of knowledge can be connected to each other. And, the integration of such curricular content is driven by the reason (rationale) which makes up such knowledge and concurrently the ways or patterns of connection that are arranged or organised around the specific rationale (al-Attas, 1991).

Real integration vs. pseudo arrangements of curricular content Certainly what is proposed above is not a form of integration that artificially connects various streams of knowledge as has been the case with several ‘Islamisation of knowledge’ attempts (Wan Daud, 1990). To merely initiate lesson plans and to organise curricular content and assessment procedures along the lines of instantaneous references to Qur’anic and Hadith utterances does not amount to integration. Instead, cosmetic connections would ensue. Of course, I am not

114  Yusef Waghid refuting the practice of beginning or ending a lesson implementation or curricular design by invoking religious utterances as found in the Qur’an and Hadith as what can be so pernicious about this practice as well. But rather, what I am proposing is real and plausible integration whereby subject and curricular content are organised in such a way that it reflects the intended purpose of the course or programme or qualification. A learner who intends to pursue a degree in life sciences after having completed her or his schooling cannot be expected to pursue a programme of study which has a bias towards a Qur’anic stream of knowledge. Such a learner’s curriculum ought to be more appropriately connected to life sciences, complemented by environmental sciences, some aspects of human and social sciences and, mathematical and technological sciences. Qur’anic sciences have to be connected in minimal ways to the life sciences stream. Again, what exactly such a curricular programme will look like depends on what will be used in the various streams of knowledge to conjure up an appropriate curricular design. I am not also suggesting that a new subject or course should be invented and that existing subjects and content ought to be abandoned as that would be too bold a step in the direction of constructing a new paradigm for madrasah education (of course, I am not ruling out that this might also be another possibility). My suggestion is to use existing subjects but rather to make slight modifications or adjustments around the intended rationale (outcomes) for a particular programme. Concurrently, such a process of modification and adjustment also requires restricting or limiting one’s selection of subjects and or modular courses, which implies taking away some of the aspects of learning which might be superfluous to the design, development and implementation of the new programme of primary and or secondary madrasah education. Any attempt to make overall changes would be detrimental to meaningful change. Yet, meaningful and positive change cannot be enacted without the dedication and commitment of the agents of change – that is, teachers and policy makers. It is to such a discussion that I now turn my attention to.

Human agency and authoritative change The Qur’an aptly instructs people (including Muslims) as follows: “. . . Verily never will Allah change the condition of a people until they change it themselves (with their own souls) . . .” (Qur’an, 13: 11). Of course, Muslim teachers and policy makers as human agents who embark on a course of radicalised action in the sense that change is not cosmetic but imaginary are indeed moving on a trajectory that is thoughtful, reflexive, inter-subjective and aimed at making pedagogical breakthroughs. Such a breakthrough is unprecedented as for obvious reasons it did not occur before, meaning that there are now recipes or results of failed experiments that can caution human agents against any form of undesirable outcome. So, a pedagogical breakthrough is informed by a journey of traversing uncharted terrain with the intention to achieve the unexpected, the unimaginable – hence, reconceptualising madrasah education is equated with working towards a radicalised imaginary. And, such an imaginary is never completed as that would mark

Reconceptualising madrasah education 115 the abrupt ending of madrasah education (Waghid, 2011). Instead, reconceptualising madrasah education is the construction of a narrative that is always in the making. Consequently, the process of rethinking or reimagining madrasah education requires human agents who are committed to its achievement. And who else are more favourably positioned to augment and engender such change other than teachers who have ardently and at times painstakingly contributed to the success of learner achievement and community enhancement? For this endeavour of authoring a new narrative, one requires the kind of teacher that is consciously willing and thoughtfully reflexive about the reasons for change – reasons that can benefit only the entire community at large. This is so, for the reason that an improved educational system that can contend with contemporary conditions and emerging challenges of modernisation requires reflective minds such as those associated with teachers and policy makers. Moreover, changing an education system is never easy. It is unsettling and disruptive. Yet the ensuing advantages in devising a new educational system underpinned by a paradigm of critical consciousness and profound imagination can only be the appropriate rupture that a serious-minded community of madrasah educators requires. This is so because madrasah educators understand that they have to work inter-subjectively (through reasoning together) and deliberatively as they endeavor to transform the madrasah education system. Deliberative engagement affords educators the opportunity to listen attentively to what the other has to say and then alter their views in relation to the critique of others and talking back. In such a way, a new madrasah education system remains subjected to the critical scrutiny by others. It is a system that is never cast in stone – that is, it is a rolling stone that gathers moss as design and implementation unfold in primary and secondary madrasah schools. The question remains: what are the implications of a radicalised view of madrasah education for learning and teaching? To my mind, teaching and learning will both emphasise rote learning and learning for critical consciousness, deliberation and responding to the other. Learning and teaching with a new paradigm of madrasah education would not abandon memorisation and acquisition of factual knowledge. How can one appropriately perform manipulation of chemical equations if one did not memorise the periodic table of elements? And, how could one lead prayers if one did not memorise chapters of the Qur’an? On the contrary, one would be deprived of performing a task well, that is, learning. However, what a radicalised imaginary of madrasah education equally emphasises is that reflective thought and critical reasoning should become touchstones of the required pedagogical activities. Hence, a complementary notion of memorisation and reflection would be nurtured. Memorisation, therefore, cannot be devoid of reason and purpose (Bagheri and Khosravi, 2006); it has to be both accompanied and informed by a conception of critical engagement and understanding, which would bode well for a madrasah system which remains open to the critical scrutiny of others. Moreover, a radicalised imaginary of madrasah education also expects learners and teachers to deliberate and experience one another. This is different from getting to know one another as often the obsession of knowing can lead

116  Yusef Waghid to more alienation or simply that one can never know the other. Does knowing the other’s identity imply one knows everything about the other? Of course not and hence any attempt at knowing might not necessarily render the desired outcome. In addition, a radicalised imaginary of madrasah education would require of teachers and learners to deliberate – that is, listen willingly to the other and then to talk back in order to create opportunities to come up with things one might never have thought of before. In other words, such an imaginary expects teachers to take learners seriously and to acknowledge that learners might come up with meanings never thought of by them before. It is a matter of cultivating through one’s pedagogical practices the notion that there is always more to learn and that one can learn from learners. In short, the pedagogical master or the sage on the stage is not the appropriate authoritative position teachers might hold.

Final remarks In sum, learning through radicalisation implies that one is orientated to be always in service of humanity because such an imaginary has in mind being responsive and relevant to the affairs of one’s context. Authoritative teaching and learning according to a radicalised imaginary would be more directed at fostering understandings of social cohesion and human coexistence – an idea of pedagogy that resonates with radical change.

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Reconceptualising madrasah education 117 Hwang, J. C. (2008). Education and social cohesion in Malaysia and Indonesia. In B. S. Turner (Ed.), Religious Diversity and Civil Society: A Comparative Analysis (pp. 143–166). Oxford: The Bardwell Press. Levers, L. Z. (2006). Ideology and change in Iranian education. In R. Griffin (Ed.), Education in the Muslim World: Different Perspectives (pp. 149–190). Oxford: Symposium Books. Rahman, F. (1982). Islam and Modernity. Chicago: Chicago University Press. Rahman, F. (1988). Islamization of knowledge: A response. The American Journal of Islamic Social Sciences, 5(1), 3–11. Shaw, K. (2006). Muslim education in the Gulf States and Saudi Arabia: Selected issues. In R. Griffin (Ed.), Education in the Muslim World: Different Perspectives (pp. 26–41). Oxford: Symposium Books. Taylor, C. (1985). Philosophy and the Social Sciences (Vol. 1). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Waghid, Y. (2011). Conceptions of Islamic Education: Pedagogical Framings. New York: Peter Lang Publishing. Wan Daud, W. M. N. (1990). The Concept of Knowledge in Islam and Its Implications for Education in a Developing Country. London: Mansell. Wan Daud, W. M. N. (1997). Islamisation of contemporary knowledge: A brief comparison between al-Attas and Fazlur Rahman. Al-Shajarah, 2(1), 1–19. Wan Daud, W. M. N. (2009). Dewesternization and Islamization: Their epistemic framework and final purpose. Paper presented at the International Conference on Islamic University Education, Kazan, Russia, September 27–30.

7 Developing Shakhsiyah Islamiyah1 Personalised character education for British Muslims Farah Ahmed and Tahreem Sabir Introduction In the early years of the 21st century, a group of young British Muslim mothers embarked on a collective attempt to meet the educational needs of their young children living in Britain. In doing so, they established two independent primary schools with an alternative Islamic ethos, called Shakhsiyah schools. Through researching and drawing on classical Islamic ideas about education, these mothers, now school leaders, developed the Principles of Shakhsiyah Education (Ahmed, 2012, 2016). This chapter contributes to this volume on rethinking Islamic education in the modern world through an exposition of the stated principles and actual practice in Shakhsiyah schools as perceived by members of the school community. The chapter begins by outlining important features of the schools’ curricular and pedagogical innovations that arise from the Principles of Shakhsiyah Education. It will then draw upon a small-scale study that examined how members of the school community perceived the school ethos, in order to address the research question: how is school ethos understood, played out and practiced in a Muslim faith school community? This study can therefore be seen as an evaluation of how successful the schools are in meeting their stated aims. It includes a qualitative analysis of the reflections of teachers, parents and seven- to 11-year-old children on how far the education provided by Shakhsiyah schools reflects their stated ethos. This analysis also affords the school leadership the ability to evaluate how effective they have been in disseminating this ethos to teachers, parents and children. This chapter will not directly address the prevalent critiques or political circumstances within which Islamic education in Britain is being developed. Meer and Breen (this volume) present in detail the myriad of challenges facing emerging Muslim faith schools in Britain, as well as the challenges to society posed by the presence of Muslim faith schools. The single aim of this chapter is to evaluate how far the specific schools being studied meet their own stated aims of developing Shakhsiyah Islamiyah; i.e., providing personalised character education for British Muslim children from an Islamic basis. It should also be noted that teachers’ and school leaders’ views on the contribution of Shakhsiyah schools to preparing Muslim children for British society has been covered elsewhere (see Ahmed, 2014, 2012).

Developing Shakhsiyah Islamiyah  119

Shakhsiyah principles, pedagogy and curricula Over a 15-year period, the Muslim mothers who founded Shakhsiyah schools have engaged in regular and ongoing collaborative action research to devise a new model for educating Muslim children living as a minority in a secular-liberal society. Contemporary challenges to Muslim religious nurture and parenting are well documented (Scourfield et al., 2013); there is less awareness of the impact of the dichotomised state school and supplementary madrasah education on Muslim children’s personal epistemologies. Attending a state-funded school during the day, where God and religion are absent, and coming home to a religious household and family life, which includes attending a madrasah type supplementary education in the local mosque, generates a dichotomous existence for the Muslim child (Ahmed, 2014). According to Shakhsiyah schools, education in the Islamic worldview, i.e., tarbiyah (nurturing personal development), ta’lim (imparting knowledge) and ta’dib (fostering decency and humaneness) is holistic and intimately intertwined with personal growth and development, i.e., the fitrah (natural disposition) of the human being is to grow towards Allah (Ahmed, 2016: 11). Thus the Principles of Shakhsiyah Education have been devised as a framework to generate a holistic educational approach that removes the dichotomous educational structures that have become the norm in the secular postcolonial era. It is claimed that Shakhsiyah Education seamlessly educates the whole human being, including physically, intellectually, emotionally and spiritually. It incorporates all types of knowledge and learning that is needed to live as a Muslim in the contemporary world. This approach is based on seven principles as given in Table 7.1.

Table 7.1 Principles of Shakhsiyah Education1 1. Niyah (Intention): The principle of loving learning for the sake of Allah as growing towards Allah is the ultimate purpose of the human being. 2. Shakhsiyah (Personalised Character Education): The principle of developing each child’s unique personal character through dynamic parent-teacher-learner relationships generated through human-scale personalised Shakhsiyah Education. 3. Qidwah (Teaching/Leading by Example): The principle of teachers leading by example by engaging in educational research and professional development in a constant quest for ‘ilm, ihsan and taqwa (knowledge, excellence and awareness of Allah). 4. Halaqah (Islamic Oral Pedagogy): The principle of halaqah as a prophetic pedagogy that synthesises tarbiyah, ta‘lim and ta’dib (nurturing personal development, imparting knowledge and fostering decency and humaneness). 5. Balaghah (Qur’anic Eloquence): The principle of Qur’anic Arabic as the language of Islam and as essential to the revival of Muslim heritage. 6. Minhaj al-Dirasi (Shakhsiyah Holistic Curriculum): The principle of a holistic, integrated, thematic curriculum with the Halaqah curriculum at its core. 7. Taqdir (Assessment for the Learner): The principle of the individual learner (shakhs) at the heart of assessment so that assessment is formative for the learner’s growth towards Allah.

120  Farah Ahmed And Tahreem Sabir In this chapter, we will focus on the principles of shakhsiyah (personalised character education), Halaqah (Islamic oral pedagogy) and Minhaj al-Dirasi (Shakhsiyah holistic curriculum).

Shakhsiyah (personalised character education) Although Islamic education has a long history of emphasis on developing personal character, shakhsiyah is not a term used in classical literature. The literature rather refers to a range of psychological and spiritual concepts including, but not limited to, developing iman (faith), instilling akhlaq (virtues), encouraging adab (decency and humaneness) and tazkiyah al-nafs (purifying the soul). The use of the term Shakhsiyah intends to encompass all of these, and to place an emphasis on the individual child’s personal character development. The aim is to know the individual child’s personal fitrah, their specific God-given characteristics and, in partnership with parents, to engage in tarbiyah, in order to draw out the best in the child’s personal character. In an age of mass education that is increasingly run on neoliberal principles, refocusing educational attention to individual human development is necessary to counterbalance the forces of a market-driven society, where education is fast becoming a commodity being run for profit (Au and Ferrare, 2015; Connell, 2013). Thus, Shakhsiyah schools have put in place a number of means to achieve this aim. First, the schools cultivate a close relationship with each family, beginning with a lengthy interview process for admission. Three face-to-face parentteacher meetings a year, as well as regular written communication, facilitate an ongoing relationship. Second, the schools maintain small class sizes of no more than 15; this enables each teacher to come to know and understand each individual child. Daily halaqah, described below, further facilitates a daily opportunity for the teacher to understand the child’s viewpoint and gain an appreciation of the child’s life world. Additionally, teachers stay with a particular class for at least two years. This enables teachers to get to know the child over time, to develop a strong relationship with both child and parents, and to become role models and mentors in the child’s life. In these ways, Shakhsiyah schools have sought to revive the traditional teacher-learner relationship in Islam (al-Ghazali, 2010: 88–107; al-Zarnuji, 2010: 108–155).

Halaqah (Islamic oral pedagogy) In Shakhsiyah schools, there is no Islamic Studies lesson, and no separate Islamic Studies teacher. The primary class teacher leads a daily Halaqah, which is conducted purely orally. Halaqah is a generic term for study circles found across the Muslim world with great variation in format; the description offered here is applicable to halaqah as it operates in Shakhsiyah schools. In Shakhsiyah schools’ halaqah, teachers and children engage in dialogue on a given topic, which is usually Islamic in nature, and which can also be related to a given curricular theme. The halaqah begins with recitation of Qur’an and ends with a du’a (supplication).

Developing Shakhsiyah Islamiyah  121 The dialogue is conducted within the Islamic worldview; however, children are encouraged to ask questions and think critically. The purpose is to study and understand Islam in a manner that relates to children’s actual lives. That Islam is learned in context and ‘ilm (knowledge) is translated into understanding (fahm), leading to ‘amal (action). As the children are growing up in a non-Islamic society, the halaqah is designed to act as a safe space where children can discuss and understand how non-Muslims might view and disagree with their religious beliefs and practices. In this way, children are supported to understand their identity, their faith and how to conduct their way of life in a society where it is not the norm. The daily halaqah discussion becomes the foundation of the rest of the curriculum. In this way, all learning becomes infused with Islam, as children learn that they can grow towards Allah by using their ‘aql (intellect) to understanding and appreciate His ayat (signs) in the natural world and in human society. They learn that all knowledge is interrelated and that learning is a life-long personal endeavour.

Minhaj al-Dirasi (Shakhsiyah holistic curriculum) The Shakhsiyah holistic curriculum has been carefully developed to integrate all forms of learning and to centre on independent learning. Using a nested approach, links are developed between different subject disciplines and through different pedagogical approaches as illustrated in Figure 7.1.

Personalised independent learning: developing shakhsiyah islamiyah Whole-school learning: real-life learning through school life Holisc learning: shakhsiyah holisc curriculum Bilingual learning: qur’an and arabic curriculum

Learning islam: halaqah curriculum

Figure 7.1 Shakhsiyah schools curricula: a nested approach

122  Farah Ahmed And Tahreem Sabir At the core of the curriculum is the Halaqah curriculum, which includes the study of Islam, other religions and history. This feeds into the Qur’an and Arabic curriculum. These, in turn, feed into a holistic thematic curriculum incorporating a full range of other subjects as illustrated in Figure 7.2. Primary children have six themes a year, examples are: Muslim Spain, Circles and Cycles, and China. In each theme, children begin by harvesting existing knowledge and sharing with the class. They then brainstorm questions they have about the theme and eventually settle on a question they will research. Alongside whole-class learning, they work on an independent learning project to answer their selected question. At the end of the theme, they hold an exhibition and visit each other’s classrooms to learn from each other. These three curricula are augmented by whole-school activities. All children take part in an annual presentation, and older children hold an annual Islamic Inventions Fair in the local public library, exhibiting their own work on Muslim scientific, artistic and technological achievements and discoveries. Children understand that their learning is part of their development as Muslims and their Shakhsiyah Islamiyah. The above describes the aims and intentions of school leaders. However, the question remains as to how far teachers, children and parents understand and implement these principles and aims. To understand how far the stated aims and

Art, Cra, Design & Technology

Qur'an and Qur'anic Arabic

Maths

Halaqah: Islam, History, R.E., PSHE., Ci zenship Physical Development

English

KUW: Science Geography and ICT

Figure 7.2 Shakhsiyah holistic curricula: an integrated approach

Developing Shakhsiyah Islamiyah  123 intentions of Shakhsiyah schools are embraced by members of the school community, a Master’s degree that was being undertaken by a newly appointed head teacher of one of the schools was used as an opportunity to carry out a research study. The newly appointed head was Tahreem Sabir, and the rest of this chapter reports on her study.

A practitioner research project As a newly appointed head teacher, I was interested in determining how successful the leadership had been in embedding the Principles of Shakhsiyah Education into school life and whether these had been internalised by the school community. It was important to me to use the findings of the study to lead my school community along a shared path. I had arrived at this juncture in my professional development after a lengthy involvement in this project. My motivation had been similar to that of a growing number of British Muslim parents who wanted to seek out an Islamic education for their children. Having been dismayed through personal experiences in the 1980s at the degree to which British state schools ignored the cultural, historical and religious identities of Muslim children2 (Ahmed, 2014; Merry, 2007: 41), we had initially sought out the flexibility of home schooling, which allowed parents the freedom to engage in tarbiyah, ta’lim and ta’dib, and provide a holistic culturally coherent education for their British Muslim children. As the word spread, these home-schooling groups grew in size and number, and it was eventually decided to organise the various groups into a formalised structure. Thus, in September 2002, Islamic Shakhsiyah Foundation was established and two schools were registered with the Department for Education. In the initial years, we thought very hard about how to ensure the Islamic ethos would be maintained within the schools. As a collaborative group, we had a strong vision of how we wanted to nurture our children: to equip them with a love of their din (way of life), nurture adab and akhlaq (morals), to give them an understanding of their Islamic identity as Muslims living in British society, and also give them the necessary skills to contribute positively to their communities. For us, giving our children an Islamic, and hence holistic, upbringing was instrumental in developing children’s sense of self as Muslims, their Shakhsiyah Islamiyah. The 2009 school prospectus states: “For us what was really important was the understanding of what it means to bring up a child Islamically, and education is just a part of that tarbiyah (nurturing).” This intention and subsequent research resulted in the development of a clearly articulated set of aims called the Principles of Shakhsiyah Education (Ahmed, 2016). This was shared with all the members of the school community. Currently, the two schools cater to approximately 130 families and 240 children. There are 45 members of staff. The Foundation now has furthered its work in education by opening up day care centres, Islamic teacher education courses, producing educational resources and organising community and youth outreach and events. The initial core team of home-schooling mothers are now a school leadership team that works across the two schools. I was now a member of this team, after

124  Farah Ahmed And Tahreem Sabir working as a class teacher for many years. On embarking on a headship role, I wanted to embed the stated aims even deeper into school life. I decided, therefore, to investigate how far the stated aims were also upheld by other members of the school community. This study conducted in late 2014 was, therefore, the culmination of my personal journey both as a mother and a teacher. As I had been a teacher in one of the schools for many years, it was essential that I was aware of my position as an insider-outsider researcher. To mitigate this somewhat, I decided to conduct the study in the ‘sister’ school run by the foundation which was located about 30 miles away. The research would have lacked rigour if I had carried out the study in my own school, as an insider only. The dual identity of being a school leader and researcher would have caused possible ambiguities, bias or influence in the data collection process within the research group (Hanson, 2013; Kanuha, 2000). This was to some extent mitigated by the fact that in the sister school, I was to a large extent, an outsider to the school community, because I was unknown to the research participants. Prior to the study, I had not met the school’s parents; neither had I interacted with the school’s children and I had only met some of the staff on a few occasions during joint staff inset, in which I delivered several sessions over the year as a member of the shared senior leadership team across both schools. My interaction with the teacher-participants was very infrequent, as we were based in different school sites. Therefore, the participants viewed me, the researcher, as an outsider, and consequently potential problematic power dynamics that may have existed had the research been carried out in my own school were not evident in the ‘sister’ school. However, I also acted as an insider researcher, as I shared a similar experience as a member of staff, shared the same tenets of the Sunni Muslim faith and also had an intimate understanding of the school’s vision, policies and practices. These shared understandings enabled the participants and I, as an insider researcher, to engage in discussion from common assumptions and values.

Research design I located my research in the field of faith schools, school ethos and school leadership. My overarching research question was: How is School Ethos understood and played out in Action in a Faith School Community and what are the implications for the leadership of faith schools? As a school leader, I was very focused on the perceptions of the school community in our specific schools. Thus, this overarching question was broken down as below: (i) Perception 1: What do children, teachers and families view as the aims/ethos of Shakhsiyah schools? (ii) Perception 2: How do children, teachers and families view these aims as being carried out in practice in Shakhsiyah schools?

Developing Shakhsiyah Islamiyah  125 The nature of the study, i.e., the detailed perceptions of a school community, and the uniqueness of the case site, required a qualitative research methodology (Stake, 1995; Yin, 2008). Stake’s intrinsic case study research approach (1995) allowed me to collect rich qualitative data in order to investigate the common understandings held by teachers, parents and children in the natural environment of the school’s setting. The research methodology was based on the conceptual framework suggested by Caitlin Donnelly (2000) through her research of ethos and intergroup relations in Catholic schools in Northern Ireland. She explored school ethos from two theoretical perspectives, the ethos of outward attachment and the aspirational ethos, also further identifying an ethos of inward attachment. In her paper, “In Pursuit of School Ethos” (2000), Donnelly also categorises school ethos as being ‘positivist’, the way a school ethos is portrayed formally through school documentation, and ‘anti-positivist’, as informally through the lived experiences and social interactions of pupils and teachers. For this study, I chose to investigate the ‘ethos of inward attachment’ (Donnelly, 2000) only, as I was a school-leader and so already familiar with the positivist ethos, i.e., the ethos as projected in the school documentation. My focus was, therefore, the anti-positivist, the informal lived experiences of children, parents and teachers. I knew that outward attachment may well be apparent in participants as the ethos, written down in school documentation, can be observed in the physical environment of the school and is discussed with the school community during admission interviews and school-parents’ meetings. Nevertheless, I wanted to capture much more closely the extent of the inward attachment (see Figure 7.3 below). Donnelly’s conceptual framework allowed me to focus my research on the subterranean features of the school (Riley et al., 2003) by listening to views of the school’s community using a qualitative research design. Riley et al. (2003) identify that in a school community there are features under the surface (subterranean) that emanate due to the ethos such as relationships, behaviours and Declared School Ethos Percepons of School community Possible Implicaons for Leadership

Figure 7.3 Purpose of study

126  Farah Ahmed And Tahreem Sabir language use. These are not always explicitly apparent to an observer. In evaluating the effectiveness of a school’s ethos, it is important to identify how far the subterranean features are impacted by the stated ethos.

Participant selection In a small school, it was not possible to eliminate bias through rigorous sampling methods. Instead, it was important for this study to ensure that participants would feel that they could give an honest account of their views. I sought out three groups of research participants – children, parents and teachers in order to conduct lengthy semi-structured interviews in focus groups, where participants were given time to become relaxed and talk comfortably. In the parents group, one participant withdrew on the day so only two parents participated. The pupils and parents were selected through purposeful sampling within the school student council members and the parents-school committee, as I was seeking out children and parents who were likely to be familiar with the school ethos so that they had the required knowledge to evaluate its effectiveness. Teachers were informed of the study; the first three who responded participated. The focus group interviews lasted between half an hour to just under an hour, with the teacher-participants being more comfortable talking with me as I was familiar to them (as an insider) as they had seen me before in shared-school inset and I also shared the same gender as them. In the pupils and parents groups, I was seen as an outsider as I was unfamiliar to them; for the pupils, I was also an adult, so power relations existed; for the parents who participated, I was of a different gender than them (both being male), and thus they needed more prompts during the focus group interview itself to elaborate more on their short answers. I found the small group size effective as it allowed each participant the freedom to talk at length and dialogue with each other, without being inhibited by a larger group size. After I had carried out thematic analysis (Strauss & Corbin, 1990, cited in Breen, 2006) of the transcribed data, I held another session with each participant group to ensure that I had indeed made accurate representations of their discussion, in order to remove researcher bias and the Hawthorne effect (Robson, 2011: 86). Focus group interviews were used as the sole method of qualitative data collection. This enabled the small number of research participants in each group to see themselves as co-constructing the research by expressing their opinions and contributing to the research conversation in a social context (Breen, 2006) and in a purposeful manner. This method was considered necessary to explore the inward attachment of all the research participants. I used semi-structured prompt questions to initiate and extend discussions in the group. I had allocated a 45-minute session for each group. The children’s session lasted approximately 35 minutes, the parents’ session 45 minutes and the teachers’ session continued for over an hour. The semi-structured prompt questions allowed me, as a researcher, flexibility around the core research issues (Freebody, 2003). This richly developed the research conversations, interactions and context, contributing to the generation

Developing Shakhsiyah Islamiyah  127 of rich data and subsequent rich interpretation (Danby and Farrell, 2004: 49). To analyse the perceptions of community members closely, I chose to transcribe the raw data myself, familiarising myself with it several times to bring me closer to the data, and to look for meanings in the text. As a qualitative study, this research does not make claims of transferability. Rather, as a practitioner researcher, my focus was the internal validity of the research process (Lincoln and Guba, 1985). It was important to me that the research findings were useful to me in my capacity as a school leader, and that the findings were an accurate stakeholder evaluation of the effectiveness of the school leadership’s efforts in infusing the school ethos into school life. I therefore located my research design within a well-documented and established research framework, i.e., Donnelley’s conceptual framework on faith school ethos and Riley et al’s analysis of the complexity of how school ethos is played out in action in a school community. The analytic approach was also based on an established tool, that is, thematic analysis in accordance with Strauss and Corbin (1990, cited in Breen, 2006). I further ensured the reliability of the collected data by conducting a small pilot study prior to ascertaining the suitability of the research questions (Silverman, 1998 cited in Freebody, 2003: 168), and also through checking the findings with the research participants after the data was transcribed and analysed. Triangulation of data was, to a limited extent facilitated by the three different groups of participants. Joint analysis of their perceptions enabled greater reliability in the findings. As a school leader and an insider-outsider researcher, I took diligent care of my ethical responsibilities using an ‘Ethics of Care’ (Costley and Gibbs, 2006) during the research process. I ensured that participants were anonymised, even though the school was not. This is because the ethos and practices of the school are so specific that it is not possible to guarantee anonymity. Thus, as a lone practitioner-researcher, I took responsibility for identifying all parameters relating to the case study (Lichtman, 2010: 108) including the selections of research participants, data collection methods, ethics, methods of analysis and reporting.

Findings and discussion From the overall data analysis, there was strong evidence of an awareness of a strong niyah (intention) within the school community as a whole; all participants expressed the view that the schools were directly focused on achieving their stated aims. Children, parent and teacher participants were also clear on their own niyah, i.e., an overarching aim of having/providing an Islamic education and developing Shakhsiyah Islamiyah. The data showed that the research participants identified the school’s ethos as being important to them and as a primary factor that drew them to the school. Both parent participants said that during their initial search for a preferred Muslim school, they had found varied foci given to teaching Islam and to secular academic knowledge in other Muslim schools (Merry, 2007: 61), however, they saw a balance in this school. Both parent participants

128  Farah Ahmed And Tahreem Sabir claimed that the Islamic ethos was taught as being a natural element of the child’s development, rather than something that was being forced on them. For all teacher participants, the school’s ethos made them reaffirm their commitment to their faith and ignite a need to enhance their own shakhsiyah, their personal spirituality and knowledge of Islam. One teacher participant said that the school ethos was something that endeared to her personally on a fundamentally human level: TEACHER BILQUIS:  “The school ethos harmonises with our natural fitrah.”

There were, however, clear variations in the depth of understanding and internalisation of the school’s ethos in the different groups of participants. This was evident in how closely their discussions matched school documentation. Teachers were the most familiar with the Principles of Shakhsiyah Education and were able to reference them clearly. Parents showed a more general awareness, talking descriptively about elements of these principles without directly referring to them. The children described their school experiences and clearly valued those that emanated from these principles, although they were the least likely to talk about the ‘ethos’ of the school. These differences are easily explained by the different relationship within the school in these three categories of participants, nonetheless, it is also important to consider that perhaps the school leadership has not communicated the school’s ethos with parents and children as well as it has with teachers. More detailed analysis generated six themes. However, for the purpose of this chapter, I will only focus on three, namely, Shakhsiyah, Halaqah and Minhaj al-Dirasi.

Shakhsiyah The theme of shakhsiyah was evident throughout the discussions, including those that have been discussed above in relation to niyah. Participants talked about having a sense of Islamic identity, listening to children’s voice and encouraging independent learning as part of shakhsiyah development, and the importance of parent-school partnerships in developing shakhsiyah. There were clear variations in the depth of understanding of these ideas in teachers, parents and children. All participants were clear that the school worked to develop good Muslims. CHILD, BASMA (AGED 9):  “I think this school is trying to help us with our knowl-

edge of Islam so that we can grow up to be a good Muslim . . . and I think they are trying to help so that we can be good people when we grow up.” PARENT, BASHIR:  “The aim is to come up with children who can function well in society, have Muslim values where they are [able] to respect other people.” TEACHER, AISHA:  “A major part of the school’s ethos is to develop the Islamic personality [shakhsiyah] of the child, and so if we are not doing that, we are not doing our job properly.”

Developing Shakhsiyah Islamiyah  129 Parent and teacher participants elaborated on what it means to have shakhsiyah, stating repeatedly that it means to be a practising Muslim who has all the moral and virtuous traits as shared by other faiths and the wider society. This bears similarity to existing literature (Dangor, 2005; Halstead, 2004; Hussain, 2004). Participants claimed this is an aim of the school, to nurture children’s shakhsiyah through tarbiyah: to facilitate the child’s natural development in a holistic manner that encourages the child to embody adab and akhlaq within an ethos where there is a strong sense that the children take responsibility for their own actions. CHILD, AMNA (AGED 8):  “Teaching us about good akhlaq and adab in all the

things, and it helps me a lot.” PARENT, BASHIR:  “This school . . . promotes . . . how these children should deal

with each other . . . [with] parents . . . teachers, respect elders . . . not only because of the Muslim belief but that’s how we should behave anyway in society.” TEACHER, AISHA:  “There’s a sense of accountability that the pupils feel they’re responsible for their own behaviour.” Teacher-participants also discussed how the school’s ethos is translated through policies and procedures. They identified that the admission policies and employment selection criteria provided the school leadership with an indication of potential parents’ and teachers’ existing adherence to Islam. For these teachers, this was an added incentive for them to join the school community. In this small sample, the school’s successful strategy of involving parents as teachers was evident, as the most vocal supporter of the school’s ethos was Bilquis, who is both a teacher and a parent.

Halaqah Teacher- and parent-participants identified the importance of the oral halaqah sessions as a core strategy for developing shakhsiyah. In relation to rethinking Islamic education for the 21st century, this particular conceptualisation of halaqah as a dialogic pedagogy for teaching Islam to young children is simultaneously innovative, and a revival of one of the most traditional of Islamic pedagogies. Teachers were clear about the role of halaqah in holistically developing each child’s individual shakhsiyah. Children also spoke about halaqah and assembly as being essential to helping them to become better Muslims and people. Teachers spoke at length about halaqah as child-led and, therefore, enabling children to explore what is important to them in relation to their faith. TEACHER, CHAAND:  “. . . coming back to our kids, we don’t expect a particular

answer from them, especially . . . when we do halaqah . . . you just ask them a question . . . or just genuinely talk to them . . . they just go on and on about whatever they want, you are not expecting them to go down a particular route, and I found that from our . . . SLT (Senior Leadership Team) . . . that we can be open, and then we pass that on to our children . . . you can

130  Farah Ahmed And Tahreem Sabir be open . . . it’s not that we are in [the] four walls of our classroom and we have to teach A, B and C. It’s really quite open with the kids, . . . that’s what I found really important for me . . . I don’t like being in a box and suffocated.” Children enjoy halaqah sessions and the opportunity to engage in dialogue. One child suggested sharing this open approach beyond the class to the whole school. CHILD, BASMA (AGED 9):  “I would make the Islamic lessons like halaqah, I would

make it that the school has it, every one of the class[es] have it together, so we can learn like a new thing, everyone can learn it. . . .” Parents value the engagement with others that is found in the halaqah sessions, which are seen as building respect for others. In the extract below, a parent explains how it enables children to reflect on their relationships with others. PARENT, BASHIR:  “. . . it is not only about Islam . . . it’s about how to deal with

individuals . . . this school I think promotes . . . how these students should deal with each other, . . . with their parents, . . . with their teachers, respect elders, . . . they do that not only because of the Muslim belief, but that’s how we should behave anyway in society. . . .” INTERVIEWER:  “. . . so where . . . how does it do this? . . . When does the school do this?” PARENT, BASHIR:  “I think during halaqah, they do halaqah something like one and half hours or 45 minutes, . . . they do this halaqah every day. . . .” For teachers the value of halaqah is in its capacity to develop children’s thinking skills through questioning and talk. This gives pupils confidence so that they are: TEACHER, CHAAND:  “Independent enough and confident enough to come with

their own conclusions.” Teachers talked about the dialogic pedagogy of this lesson in which children are encouraged to think critically and not be afraid to ask difficult and challenging questions. Instead, they have to think of an answer independently and confidently themselves. They are aware that in some situations, there are: TEACHER, CHAAND:  “No right or wrong answers.”

This prepares them for a society where their beliefs may be challenged; they are able to understand other people’s point of view whilst being able to justify their own. Teachers referred to other Muslim schools in which they had seen pupils reluctant to ask questions, especially questions about their faith, fearing

Developing Shakhsiyah Islamiyah  131 reprimand or harsh responses. Children and teachers confirmed that this was not the case in this school, as the ethos allowed critical thinking and discussions within the oral halaqah lessons. Finally, participants commented on the bilingual nature of the halaqah lessons, in which pupils also used classical Arabic vocabulary to help children understand verses of the Qur’an. They claimed this approach was based upon traditional Islamic pedagogy, which has its roots in the time of the Prophet Muhammad, who used to hold halaqah for his companions. Although little is known about the exact format and content of these initial halaqah, it is widely accepted that these halaqah involved questioning how the new religion fit into a society that was based on a different worldview. The Prophet’s . . . teaching . . . often involving heated debates and discussions . . . aiming largely at the adult, the oppositional, the disappointed and the marginalised. It spoke about the social injustices, and daily issues, using the language of religion and poetry. It was informal and integrative of words and actions . . . To that end, Islamic education of the period of revelation was radical. (Niyozov and Memon, 2011: 8) Halaqah remains widely practiced across Muslim cultures. However, in cultures where Islam is the established norm, the format of halaqah has become less radical and is sometimes characterised as non-questioning transmission of religious knowledge (see Noor Aisha, this volume). In contrast, it was evident that the research participants in this study identified halaqah in the Prophetic tradition of questioning one’s place in society and indeed in creation, as a core feature of the school’s ethos (Ahmed and Lawson, 2016).

Minhaj al-Dirasi (Shakhsiyah holistic curriculum) Participants spoke at length about the holistic creative curriculum, describing it as being infused with Islam throughout all the main subjects taught in other schools. This was important to the parent and teacher participants, for them this was a key feature that drew them to the school. This was not something they had previously experienced in other Muslim schools. TEACHER, AISHA:  “We are not trying to compartmentalise subjects but it seems as if

the school wants to teach every subject in a more holistic way and that seemed to draw me to the school because I haven’t seen that often in many other schools.” PARENT, CHAUDRY: “I always wanted to get something that was mixed, that they learn their religion, their culture, their everything . . . at the same time, that they learn whatever is going on in this country and whatever any other child can learn who goes to a normal school, a proper education.” Teachers further explained that isolating Islam as an academic lesson, separating it from the rest of the curriculum, would lose its comprehensive value. For

132  Farah Ahmed And Tahreem Sabir them, the infusion of Islam into the creative curriculum made children more confident in their shakhsiyah. If Islam is not taught creatively, as seen in this school, then Islam could be irrelevant to children living in a British context; according to teacher Aisha it would be TEACHER, AISHA:  “Just a cold, academic understanding of certain topics within

Islam but it doesn’t really translate into day-to-day life and understanding of the world around them.” Additionally, teachers commented that they saw children take ownership of their own learning, especially during independent research. Parents described the visible impact of the school’s creative curriculum on their children, as it enabled them to love school and excel in their learning through continuous extracurricular trips, visitors and activities in the school. Similarly, children also identified benefits of the creative curriculum as driving them to learn new knowledge, to help them become “clever” and “good” people. Participants also mentioned the visibly Islamcentric and attractive environment of the school, which enabled the entire school community to familiarise themselves with the Principles of Shakhsiyah Education as soon as they enter the building. The data from the focus group discussions clearly affirmed that the school leadership had successfully designed an Islamic holistic curriculum, giving learning an intertwined spiritual and educational value.

Conclusion The aim of this study had been an evaluation of how effectively the school leadership had achieved its stated aims in centring the development of Shakhsiyah Islamiyah in a British context. Although all participants were aware of the stated aims and were able to describe the three features of Shakhsiyah, Halaqah and Minhaj al-Dirasi to some degree, there was nevertheless a distinction between the qualities of understanding of the three different groups of participants. Teachers were much more confident in their understanding, whilst parents and children less so. This was a useful evaluation for the school leadership as working closely with parents and children is one of the stated aims. This is, therefore, an area that needs further development. Looking beyond the study reported here, Islamic Shakhsiyah Foundation, has been engaged in the development of new thinking in Islamic education, both in theory and practice. The foundation believes firmly that such research and development must consider the context of 21st-century Britain where the foundation operates. Thus, the research carried out at the foundation draws not only on Islamic sources and scholarship, but also on contemporary mainstream educational research, in relation to shakhsiyah, research on character education; for halaqah, research on dialogic pedagogy; and for Minhaj al-Dirasi, research on holistic and creative curriculum. The foundation is committed to finding overlaps in thinking between the religious and the secular and to working in partnership with relevant individuals and groups towards a common aim. Thus, its representatives

Developing Shakhsiyah Islamiyah  133 have membership of and work in collaboration with relevant research and educational organisations, such as the Cambridge Educational Dialogue Research Group (CEDiR),3 a collaborative of researchers on educational dialogue, and the Wroxham Transformative Learning Alliance,4 a group of schools that prioritise transformative learning and creative curriculum (Swann et al., 2012). In this way rethinking Islamic education is not an isolated educational endeavour, but is firmly located in rethinking the role of Muslims as a minority in a secular society, and supporting the integration of Muslims as Muslims in British society.

Notes 1 Shakhsiyah can be defined as personal character and identity; the emphasis here is on the unique personal characteristics of an individual. 2 British state schools have made great efforts towards inclusion and the incorporation of other cultures since the 1980s although more work needs to be done (ScottBaumann and Cheruvallil-Contractor, 2015: 10). 3 www.educ.cam.ac.uk/centres/networks/cedir/ 4 http://wroxhamtla.org.uk

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134  Farah Ahmed And Tahreem Sabir Costley, C., and Gibbs, P. (2006). Researching others: Care as an ethic for practitioner researchers. Studies in Higher Education, 31(1), 89–98. https://doi. org/10.1080/03075070500392375 Danby, S., & Farrell, A. (2004). Accounting for young children’s competence in educational research: New perspectives on research ethics. The Australian Educational Researcher, 31(3), 35–49. https://doi.org/10.1007/BF03249527 Dangor, S. (2005). Islamization of disciplines: Towards an indigenous educational system. Educational Philosophy and Theory, 37(4), 519–531. https://doi.org/10. 1111/j.1469-5812.2005.00138.x Donnelly, C. (2000). In pursuit of school ethos. British Journal of Educational Studies, 48(2), 134–154. https://doi.org/10.1111/1467-8527.t01-1-00138 Freebody, P. (2003). Qualitative Research in Education: Interaction and Practice. London: Sage. Halstead, M. (2004). An Islamic concept of education. Comparative Education, 40(4), 517–529. https://doi.org/10.1080/0305006042000284510 Hanson, J. (2013). Educational developers as researchers: The contribution of insider research to enhancing understanding of role, identity and practice. Innovations in Education and Teaching International, 50(4), 388–398. https://doi.org/10.1080/ 14703297.2013.806220 Hussain, A. (2004). Islamic education: Why is there a need for it? Journal of Beliefs & Values, 25(3), 317–323. https://doi.org/10.1080/1361767042000306130 Kanuha, V. K. (2000). “Being” native versus “Going Native”: Conducting social work research as an insider. Social Work, 45(5), 439–447. https://doi.org/10.1093/ sw/45.5.439 Lichtman, M. V. (2010). Understanding and Evaluating Qualitative Educational Research (1st edition). Los Angeles, CA: Sage Publications, Inc. Lincoln, Y. S., and Guba, E. G. (1985). Naturalistic inquiry. Newbury Park, California: Sage. Merry, M. S. (2007). Culture, Identity, and Islamic Schooling: A Philosophical Approach. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Niyozov, S., and Memon, N. (2011). Islamic education and Islamization: Evolution of themes, continuities and new directions. Journal of Muslim Minority Affairs, 31(1), 5–30. https://doi.org/10.1080/13602004.2011.556886 Riley, K., Docking, J., Rustique-Forrester, E., and Rowles, D. (2003). Burntwood secondary girls’ school. In M. Maden (Ed.), Success Against the Odds: Five Years On: Revisiting Effective Schools in Disadvantaged Areas. London: Routledge. Robson, C. (2011). Real World Research. Chichester: Wiley. Scott-Baumann, A., and Cheruvallil-Contractor, S. (2015). Islamic Education in Britain: New Pluralist Paradigms. London: Bloomsbury Publishing. Scourfield, J., Gilliat-Ray, S., Khan, A., and Otri, S. (2013). Muslim Childhood: Religious Nurture in a European Context. Oxford: OUP. Stake, R. E. (1995). The Art of Case Study Research. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Strauss, A. L., & Corbin, J. M. (1990). Basics of qualitative research: grounded theory procedures and techniques. Newbury Park, CA: Sage Publications. Swann, M., Peacock, A., Hart, S., and Drummond, M. J. (2012). Creating Learning Without Limits. Maidenhead: McGraw-Hill Education. Yin, R. K. (2008). Case Study Research: Design and Methods. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.

8 Integrating an Islamic Studies curriculum in both religious and secular classrooms in an American school Habeeb Quadri Introduction With over 132,000 registered schools in the United States, one may wonder why we need to start new schools at all. However, with over 50 million students enrolling in pre-­kindergarten to Grade 12 in 2010 alone, we realise that we need schools not only to educate, but also to differentiate education in order to meet the unique needs of every child. Amid the increasing population in the United States, declining economy and huge budget cuts, it is not rare to see overcrowded public schools throughout the country with some classroom sizes boasting a 45:1 student-­teacher ratio. It is in times like this that many individuals decide that enough is enough and initiate plans to start private schools to meet the needs of the designated community. Many Muslims in the country are seeking schools that not only produce excellent academic results but also excel in their teaching of Islam. According to the Islamic School League of America (ISLA), there has been a remarkable growth of private Islamic schools in America during the past 20 years. In a study done in 1987 by the Islamic Society of North America (ISNA) and the International Institute of Islamic Thought (IIIT), there were approximately 50 verified Islamic schools in America (ISLA, n.d.). In 2011, there were an estimated 240–250 Islamic schools in America (Huus, 2011), with the vast majority of those schools being established in the 1990s. As the population of Muslims in this country grows, there is a growing need in many communities to start more schools. Many of these early schools have become established institutions. Our experience in the United States has shown that as we improve the academic standards of our schools to compete with local public school districts, the Islamic curriculum also steadily improves. With more Islamic textbooks published than before, we have more curricula to choose from. This has helped with the content presented to students. However, it has not necessarily translated to an internalisation of that understanding. We have noticed a lack of tarbiyah (spiritual development) manifesting itself in the character, and subsequently actions, of our students. This is especially evident in everyday social issues, in and out of school. Based on this paradigm, we have continued to examine how to integrate Islamic knowledge into our general curriculum such that students would be able

136  Habeeb Quadri to apply their knowledge to all the different sciences (math, science, English, etc.) as well as everyday social circumstances in order to provide a more holistic and practical understanding and application of Islam. In order to address this, as principal of one of the longest­-standing Islamic full-­time schools in the United States for more than a decade, I will offer specific suggestions on areas where Islamic Studies classes need to rethink both the content and the process of disseminating Islamic knowledge in the classroom.

Islamic Studies: a positive approach at home and school When it was asked by the sahabah (companions of Prophet Muhammad) which supplication was recited most by Prophet Muhammad (SAW),1 Aisha (RA)2 replied, “Our Lord, give us good in this world and good in the hereafter and save us from the punishment of the Hellfire.” The aforementioned du’a (supplication) has also been recommended by the Prophet during the last portion of each tawaf (the pilgrimage rites of circling the Ka’aba).3 In this du’a, found in Surah (Chapter) Al-Baqarah, verse 201, there are many lessons for both educators and parents alike. Unfortunately, this supplication is recited regularly by Muslims without much analysis.

Positive thinking When reciting this supplication, there are three things being requested from Allah (SWT).4 However, the component that has been defined as success in the Qur’an is mentioned last. So whoever has escaped the Hellfire and entered Paradise, he has verily succeeded. (Qur’an, 3:185) Although seeking protection from the Hellfire is something we should do regularly, the du’a teaches us the power of positive thinking and accentuating the positives. Thus, this one supplication is asking Allah for the tools to save us from Hell by asking for good in this world and in the hereafter. In fact, this principle is found in many supplications. Believers are constantly encouraged to ask for good and then complete their asking by seeking protection and emancipation from the Hellfire. Unfortunately, within our schools, we see that the approach of our teachers often contradict this wisdom. Many classes are taught in such a way that fear is the primary method through which submission to God is instilled. Students often leave their Islamic school experience thinking that fear is the underlying characteristic and emotion that governs how we submit.

An abundance of material Throughout my 15 years in the field of education, I have yet to see a time of such an abundance of materials and resources as today. The amount of curricula,

Integrating an Islamic Studies curriculum 137 books, videos, multimedia presentations, programmes on DVD, lectures on YouTube, phone applications, etc., makes me scratch my head and wonder why our programmes are not more successful. To understand why students feel that our full-time and part-time Islamic schools are such a burden – and why students feel such disconnect from our schools – it is necessary to see how students learn. According to William Glasser – an author, psychiatrist and the developer of choice and reality therapy – students learn very differently depending upon how they are learning and the method in which information is being process and disseminated. Glasser (1986) suggests that students’ rate of retention from various methods is as follows: 10% is what you read 30% is what you see 50% is what you see and hear 70% is what you discuss 80% is what you experience 95% is what you teach others Obviously, when a student needs to know a material well enough to have to be able to teach it to another, he or she will retain the greatest amount of material being examined. Interestingly, Glasser’s research shows the importance of really delving into a subject and dissecting it, e.g., through discussion and experience. This will garner the greatest learning outcome. As an educator for over 15 years, I can attest to the power and veracity of Glasser’s research. While we may have a plethora of resources available at our fingertips, we often misappropriate their use and corrupt the result by not choosing the most optimal approach.

The approach of Prophet Muhammad Though he is not with us in the world today, the Prophet has never ceased to amaze me. When I look through the life of the Prophet, I see him implementing every effective style of teaching. So many ahadith (sayings of Prohet Muhammad) would begin with the sahabah saying, “I heard the Prophet say . . .” or “I saw the Prophet. . . .” Furthermore, we know that everything the Prophet said he also did; thus, he acted out all of his commands to establish clarity for future generations. Subsequently, the sahabah would discuss what he taught. On many occasions, the Prophet would ask the sahabah questions or reply to their questions with a question of his own. Although the Prophet was already aware of the answer, and on most occasions the sahabah would respond by saying that Allah and His Messenger knew best, he displayed the importance of the topic by having the sahabah think over what he was asking. Finally, the Prophet commanded the sahabah to relate and teach what they learned from him even if it was only one verse. When looking at Glasser’s statements, I am convinced that it is just a formalised version of the approach of the Prophet. Our teachers should follow a similar

138  Habeeb Quadri pattern in Islamic Studies classes. Unfortunately, our Islamic Studies classes are usually geared towards lecture­-style learning. Students do not necessarily learn best through that approach, as seen above. The Prophet himself is well known to have refrained from giving long lectures.

Practical application in the classroom I know that many people will say that he was the Prophet and we do not have his guidance today, but the reality is that he left his guidance in the form of the Sunnah (the traditional portion of Muslim law, based on the words and acts of Prophet Muhammad). We need to scrutinise ourselves and our approach in the classrooms and in our homes to see how we approach teaching the din (creed). This is especially important from an early age. For example, we can tell our young children that when they do wudhu (ritual washing to be performed in preparation for prayer and worship), if they leave any of the required parts of the wudhu dry, their prayer will not count and those parts can potentially burn in the Hellfire. Or we can take the positive approach and tell our children that every part of the body that has water poured over it will have sins washed away with that water and attain a glow in the hereafter. In both approaches, the goal is to encourage our children to do wudhu properly; in the former approach, fear is used as a tactic, whereas in the latter approach, positive reinforcement is used. This latter approach will help us show how much Allah loves us and how He wants us to attain Paradise. For most children, there is a practical disconnect that needs to be alleviated. For example, when looking at eating, children will attest to the fact that their food tasted just as good and their bodies felt just as nourished without saying the tasmiyah (i.e., bismillah – in the name of Allah) before eating. They also notice that they did not get hurt by walking into the masjid (mosque) with their left foot first. Thus, if we are always scaring them about what can potentially go wrong, and they do not see any harm or detriment by not doing what they were taught, eventually, they will begin to only see these supplications and practices as superstitions. But if we instil in them the fact that there is an unending reward for doing actions consciously and in a manner that is pleasing to their Lord, they will be more likely to be open to new ways to improve themselves.

Teaching and practicing Whether we are an Islamic Studies teacher or a parent, our children see us regularly outside of class. If we are encouraging our students not to argue or not to harm one another with their tongues, then we have to be careful to model the ideal behaviour ourselves. On many occasions, our children and students find what they feel as hypocrisy in our teachings because they see us being physically or verbally abusive. What is worse is when they ask us questions and we fire back with responses that tell them not to ask questions and merely do what they have been told. Neither of these approaches benefits anyone. As teachers, we should

Integrating an Islamic Studies curriculum 139 be cognisant of the fact that we should practice what we preach. Furthermore, if we do make a mistake – especially publicly – we should be willing to apologise and take ownership for our mistakes. Our students and children will respect us for this and take a greater lesson from the incident. If there comes an instance when we do not know an answer to a question, we can utilise that moment as an opportunity to show our humility and explain that we may not know an answer, but we would appreciate it if the student could do a research and return back to class the next day with an answer. This can even become a class­wide assignment. From this, we can even encourage our students to seek out scholars and open the door of communication with them. We can even initiate the process by asking a scholar to come into our class as a guest and to answer some difficult, yet pressing, issues. There may even be times when the question is completely preposterous. Looking at the Prophet, we see that he handled all questions with great sensitivity. Even in the case of a young sahabi (someone who saw the Prophet Muhammad and believed in him as well as died a Muslim) seeking permission to commit zina (fornication), the Prophet turned the question back to the sahabi and asked him if he would prefer that someone committed zina with the female relatives in his family. When he immediately said no, the Prophet then reminded him that verily the person with whom he wanted to commit zina with was a sister, mother, wife or daughter of someone else. This interaction, followed by the Prophet supplicating for the young man, helped remove this illicit desire from him. Our schools should also take time to implement the spirit behind the deen. Islamic Studies classes should regularly schedule field trips to soup kitchens, retirement homes and any other form of community service that can help them practically implement the spirit of what they are learning. It is important that we teach our students the fact that the character and benevolent nature of the Prophet did not exist in a bubble. He was described as ‘the walking Qur’an’ because he implemented the rulings and principles of the Qur’an. By doing such activities, we can show our students and our communities how wonderful our religion truly is.

Islamic education: preparing for real life As educators in Islamic schools, we focus on giving students individual tools to become life­long learners and to be productive Muslim citizens in this world and the next. As we provide students with a strong secular and Islamic education, as educators, we need to ask, “Does the Islamic education that we are providing students with equip them with the necessary tools to deal with some of the social issues they will face?” Five issues that Islamic schools need to specially focus on before the students move on to high school and college are: 1) Gender relations 2) Social pressures 3) Culture and Islam

140  Habeeb Quadri 4) Islam and extremism 5) Identity crisis For most schools, Islamic Studies only teach students how to pray, fast and perform other forms of worship. When students confront these problems in high school or college, they are unable to respond or even understand what their response should be. As a result, students either become resentful towards their Islamic education, or confused over their response. The topics may be uncomfortable for teachers and schools, but in order for us to completely benefit our students, we need to address such issues formally in an academic atmosphere. Once we can openly talk about these issues and enable students to deal with them, we will truly cultivate stewardship for our next generation.

Sunnah Swag It is imperative for us to teach our students to integrate (and apply) their knowledge through action. Students need to understand that they change the world through “one sunnah at a time”, or, as we like to call it, “Sunnah Swag”. Below is a programme established by a literature teacher at MCC Academy that helps promote this “swag”. The ENSAAR Program By S. Fatima Quadri Abstract The ENSAAR Program is a project devoted to pleasing our Creator by showing mercy to His creation. In this program, students build character and leadership through service­learning projects that require direct involvement with the population being served. The program engages students in altruistic ventures and inspiring experiences that prove to be life changing. Program overview & philosophy The ENSAAR Program is an endeavor devoted to building character, leadership, and confidence by implementing the values taught in character education curricula. The acronym ENSAAR stands for Education, Niyah [Intention], Service, Advocacy, Altruism, and Responsibility. These tenets are stressed in the ENSAAR Program, not only by learning about character education goals, but through putting them into action via service­learning projects. The servicelearning projects include a variety of fields: environmental awareness, animal rights, food distribution to the needy, compassion to the elderly, and mentoring students with special needs. The ENSAAR Program promotes leadership among teachers, parents, community members, youth leaders, and most importantly

Integrating an Islamic Studies curriculum 141 students. It unites diverse groups towards one mission: pleasing our Creator by showing mercy to His creation. Here is how it works. The program coordinator contacts local organisations that offer service­learning options. We seek out projects that follow three mandatory criteria: 1

Students must interact with the population they are serving The objective behind this rule is to cultivate the Islamic philosophy of community service. We serve humanity because it is a responsibility placed upon us by our Lord, not because we are more able or superior to those we are serving. We are to realise that all of bani Adam are created equal and those of us who have more wealth or strength should use it to benefit others in our community; this is an obligation upon us. This eliminates all fundraising projects where students collect funds and mail them to designated charities. Often, students say phrases like, “we made Eid baskets for the refugees” or “we are raising money for the poor.” You might wonder, what is the error in these statements? The error lies in the child’s disconnect to those whom they serve. Rather, our students should play a game of soccer with students who have refugee status, get to know them as individuals, then work with them to assemble Eid baskets as gifts. The ENSAAR Program does promote sadaqa and collects charitable donations from time to time; however, the emphasis is placed on our responsibility to give and students are cautioned from subversively feeling superior to others or using labels to refer to people as the poor, refugees, autistic, etc. Although it may just seem like semantics, there is a big difference between referring to kids as ‘refugees’ as opposed to ‘children with refugee status’ or ‘autistic kid’ as opposed to ‘child with autism’.

2

Projects must serve humanity, animals, and the environment From the life of our beloved Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon Him, we see that his services to creation were not limited to people. He was the first environmental, animal rights, and human rights activist known to modern history. Therefore, the ENSAAR Program makes sure to include projects that serve all of these facets.

3

Because we are a faith­based school, projects should be through secular organisations One of the concerns of placing students in a faith­based parochial school is the threat of limiting them to a “bubble” where they lack meaningful interactions with other constituents of our society. Therefore, we seek out organisations that are diverse and not faith­based to facilitate a balanced learning and socialisation experience. Not only is this is an excellent way to have our students be proactive contributors

142  Habeeb Quadri to a pluralistic society, it is also training for them to spearhead and effectuate positive change and development as adults. Training All participants, including adults interested in doing or coaching service­ learning projects through the ENSAAR Program, attend a training session that includes information on all the projects, such as lessons on autism to better understand the special needs students we will be mentoring, or a lesson on Alzheimer’s to be prepared for some of the residents at the nursing home. Other projects may include training that teaches students the realities concerning animal shelters and the needs of abandoned animals or the threat of E.coli bacteria to fresh bodies of water and how to test for it. This training educates participants in how to better serve and understand the creation of Allah with which we all interact. After the initial training is complete, ENSAAR members sign up for service­ learning projects in teams. The team consists of a teacher, parent, students, and youth leaders – making the perfect recipe for cross generational interaction. The training continues through conversations in the car ride to and from the site, at the location of service, or in the ENSAAR Program debriefing meetings. Because these interactions are limited to the students who sign up for the program only, the ENSAAR Program offers one more educational component that benefits the entire school called: The ENSAAR Program Lecture Series. ENSAAR Program lecture series We invite local scholars and activists to come speak to the upper elementary and middle school youth about the value of the month. A conscious effort is made to invite speakers with diverse demographics and skill. For instance, one month we invited a young Mufti of South Asian descent who was extremely motivational and spiritual, whereas the following month we invited a female political activist of Arab descent who incorporated elements of the sunnah yet provided a political perspective. Through the lecture series, students are able to benefit from the training aspect even if they do not attend the program. Also, the ENSAAR Program mentors or students describe the benefits and lessons learned from the projects at morning assembly as lessons for those who are not able to attend. Advocacy Throughout the ENSAAR Program, the underlying mission is to advocate for Allah’s creations. Still, we choose one cause a year, and train the students to promote awareness of the cause on the school campus. For example, one year the students took to a silent protest against the use of disposable Styrofoam products

Integrating an Islamic Studies curriculum 143 by using their own private reusable dishes when served hot lunch provided by the school. Later in the year, the students shared statistics on the amount of waste they prevented from reaching the landfills and the amount of waste the school is producing throughout the year. The data was presented on Earth Day with potential solutions for the school to implement for the coming year. The impact The ENSAAR Program has changed the outlook of our students towards issues and people they often misjudged, misunderstood, or completely overlooked. For example, in one of our projects, we studied the struggles of undocumented immigrants. After the program, one of the students boasted of her experience as she advocated for the cause by defending judgmental comments made towards undocumented citizens amongst her family members and peers. With every project our students participated in, their appreciation and respect for those with whom they worked grew. One of the students said to me, “Before working at the baseball camp, I was afraid of people who had autism and Down syndrome, but now the way they speak doesn’t bother me. I get it. I actually talk to the people in our community who have those conditions now!” On another occasion, one of the parents optimistically quoted her son’s comments upon his return from a nursing home visit, “Mom, I promise I will never put you in a nursing home. I will take care of you forever. I can never see you living in a home like that.” Stories like this and the leadership skills that develop through these experiences have become our motivation to continue. The ENSAAR Program allowed our school to teach students how they can implement character education, not just study it. Potential hurdles It has been three years since we initially implemented the ENSAAR Program at our school and have since seen how it brings families together and promotes consistency with the small deeds that draw us nearer to Allah. Yet, with every mission there are hurdles. Here are some of our hurdles and how we dealt with them: 1

Recruiting Volunteers This remains a struggle, especially when it comes to car pools, but this year the administration is offering stipends to compensate teachers for their time. The coordinator must be someone who is incredibly committed to the project, because project assignments and schedules are very time­consuming.

2

Getting Students to Attend Trainings and Meet Application Deadlines Students often take deadlines and training lightly, but training is now a requirement to hold a place on the rosters.

144  Habeeb Quadri 3

Middle School Students Are Too Cool for Service The older kids are difficult to get through the door, but the school requirement for service hours is usually what lures them in, and the delight of service is what keeps them in.

4

Youth Mentors It was our goal to invite youth mentors to our projects from local youth groups, but this goal has still not come to fruition due to a lack of volunteers and communication.

Improvements for the future One of the concepts we want to emphasise more is that change begins at home and service begins with one’s family. Although, mentors and speakers address this notion, we take it a step further through ENSAAR diaries. Prior to a project, students reflect upon their knowledge of the mission through a diary entry. Then, students write a second reflection in their ENSAAR diaries reflecting upon how they will internalise lessons learned from the project and how these learnings will impact their behavior towards immediate or extended family. For example, after working at the nursing home, an ENSAAR participant may reflect on how this experience caused him or her to be more appreciative and mindful of grandparents or how time at the cat shelter has encouraged being more cognisant of feeding hungry cats in the neighborhood. ENSAAR diaries provide anecdotal research to log the benefits and drawbacks of the program for future development.

Inter­curricular Islamic studies Without any stretch of the imagination (or content), Islam can be introduced in all areas of school. This attitude and application is necessary for students as they see Islam as not just a part of life, but is life itself. It is very difficult to stress Islam as a complete way of life when it is only given a small percentage of the entire day in an Islamic school. Teachers need to be encouraged to find that connection for their students as well as for themselves. Below are some methods through which Islam has been introduced into various subjects.

English Based on the aforementioned processes and ideas, the question then arises as to what roles individual teachers and staff members will have to play in this character development programme. Teachers have by far the clearest and most direct role in this process, as they will have direct communication with their students throughout the course of the day. As a result, a mock lesson will be included that will help elucidate how teachers will be able to implement this programme in their lesson plans.

Integrating an Islamic Studies curriculum 145 The selected class is an upper-level high school English course (for 16- to 17­-year-­olds) focusing on European literature. The selected work is The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde (1890). This work is a masterpiece in its own right, and is taught in high schools and universities across the nation. However, it may not make its way into an Islamic school’s English curriculum, which is a shame, due to its apparent message and hedonistic proposals. The Picture of Dorian Gray is a story of a young, handsome man by the name of Dorian Gray who has his portrait painted by a semi-­popular artist and friend, Basil Hallward. The day the portrait is set to be complete, both individuals are visited by Lord Henry Wotton, whose eloquent speech and confusing rhetoric brings hidden truths to light for Dorian, namely that his beauty will soon depart and will be replaced by wrinkles and memories. In a fit of emotion, Dorian makes a wild prayer in which he wishes that the portrait could take the marring effects of sin and old age, while he was left untouched. As the novel progresses, it becomes clear that the prayer was accepted and Dorian is now left with a decision to make. Will he use the portrait as a guide through which he will always do good acts or will he live a life of hedonistic pleasure and allow the portrait to carry the burden of his decisions? From this summary, many immediate teaching opportunities become available for Muslim English teachers. The first of which is that the protagonist – using the terms protagonist and antagonist becomes very tricky in this book – Dorian Gray is presented with an opportunity to see the effects of his actions. With the Islamic belief of the soul being affected by and the heart gathering black spots through wrong actions, the portrait now becomes a physical manifestation of that reality. Students are presented with a realistic example of how they would react had they been able to see the negative result of sins. Furthermore, students will also be able to see the predicament an individual is put in when faced with good and bad company, or good and bad influences. Dorian Gray has Basil Hallward, who is constantly trying to pull him towards charitable actions, while Lord Henry Wotton is behooving Dorian to become the poster boy of a new hedonism. Dorian is left to choose which side is more appealing to him. Along with the aforementioned critical thinking questions and situations, teachers are also presented with the wonderful opportunity to cover various vocabulary words with students. Unfortunately, the English language is not used on an academic level by most students. As a result, students are only familiar with colloquial meanings and often do not look to the etymology of a word to help derive the true meaning of a word. Teachers and students will both have an enjoyable time defining words based on their colloquial use and definition, and then looking to root words, initial usage, historical shifts in definitions and religious perspectives to find more appropriate definitions. Words such as vice and sin have lost their distinguishing features. Through various exercises, teachers will empower students with the tools to discover appropriate definitions. Ultimately, there must be some premise from which such practical implementation and character development is highlighted. In the case of the following examples, we will predicate them from the guidance found in the writings of Imam Ghazali in his

146  Habeeb Quadri treatise, The Book of Forty in the Principles of Religion (Abdussalam, 2016). All 20 terms presented will be covered explicitly or implicitly in the text. For each lesson, one or two terms can be covered in detail. Below is a sample lesson plan teachers may use in order to implement an Islamic character development programme in an upper­level English classroom:

Sample lesson plan: The Picture of Dorian Gray

IL State standards •

1.A.5b Analyse the meaning of abstract concepts and the effects of particular word and phrase choices. • 1.B.5c Evaluate a variety of compositions for purpose, structure, content and details for use in school or at work. • 1.C.5e Evaluate how authors and illustrators use text and art across materials to express their ideas. • 2.A.5b Evaluate relationships between and among characters, plot, setting, theme, conflict and resolution and their influence on the effectiveness of a literary piece.

Objectives Students will be able to: •

Depict through art the effects of decision on the physical and spiritual nature of Dorian Gray. • Identify Oscar Wilde’s use of rhetorical strategies and devices to develop his character and setting, namely through aphorisms, puns, comparison and contrast and diction. • Take situations from the text and implement an Islamic response to it. • Differentiate between often interchangeable words (i.e., vice and virtue). • Identify the role and importance of names in works. • Define character development terms/ideas: ‘indiscriminate speech’ and ‘repentance’.

Anticipatory set • Students will be given immediate ‘bell work’ to draw a portrait depicting the physical effects and signs of vice. During this time, teacher will prepare overhead projector for class use. • Students will define “vice” and “sin”, focusing on the fundamental difference between the two. • Students will define “virtue” and “value”, focusing on the fundamental difference between the two.

Integrating an Islamic Studies curriculum 147

Recall previous learning •

Integrate and associate the scene with Sybil and the reaction of Dorian to his post–Lord Henry meeting. • Apply Wilde’s preface to the character development of Dorian, Basil and Lord Henry.

New information • • •

Dorian will realise that his life has gone according to the path of Lord Henry’s influence and not of Basil. Dorian will eventually decide how he will live his life and who/what will have to take the burden of his sins. Students will see the use of names by Wilde in the character Sybil Vane (Civil + Vain).

Key points • • • • •

Dorian will encourage friends to see Sybil perform. Dorian will be embarrassed by her performance. Dorian will break off the engagement. Sybil will commit suicide. Dorian will react to suicide.

Application • Lecture and discussion on The Picture of Dorian Gray chapters 4­-5. • Association of drawings to portrait of Dorian Gray as well as reality of sin. • Lecture and discussion will ask students to identify difference between vice and sin, virtue and value.

Homework • Students will be given a (made-up) “Question 2” from the 2010 AP College Entrance Exam Language and Composition essay to be completed and turned in the next day. • Students will complete their reading to chapter 8. • Students will answer closure questions in their journals.

Assessment • • •

Completion and understanding of drawing a portrait with the effects of sin. Student participation in discussion. Take home AP College Entrance Exam essay focusing on rhetorical strategies.

148  Habeeb Quadri

Closure • Students will be asked to assess the reaction of Dorian Gray to the death of his Sybil Vane and the changes to his portrait. • Students will be asked to foreshadow Dorian’s path after his discoveries.

Materials • • •

Portrait oval handout The Picture of Dorian Gray book/overhead projection Mock AP College Entrance Exam essay

History History is another rich social science in which Islam can be properly taught. The effects of Muslim influence on our world today are another lens through which history can be studied. Teachers looking to implement such strategies in their lessons can look to the following texts for ideas: 1) 1,001 Muslim Inventions: The Enduring Legacy of Muslim Civilisation. Editor, Salim T.S. Al-Hassani. 2) Destiny Disrupted: A History of the World Through Islamic Eyes by Tamim Ansawi 3) The Arab Roots of European Medicine (Aramco World May/June 1997) 4) A History of the Modern Middle East by William Cleveland 5) Muqaddimah by Ibn Khaldun 6) Lost History by Micheal Hamilton Morgan 7) The Middle East: A History by William Ochsenwald 8) Websites a http:www.princeton.edu/Arabic/poetry b www.muslimheritage.com Some practical methods for such application can be seen through the ideas of the constituency and constitution of Medina after the hijrah (Prophet Muhammad’s migration in 622 from Mecca to Medina in order to escape persecution). In studying American history, many important socio­political concepts can be applied to modern history through a brief yet thorough examination of life in Medina. Themes such as interfaith and intercultural relationships, redefining and establishing the concept of justice, and the creation of established political thought (be it democracy, theocracy or monarchy) can all be found as early struggles faced in Medina as well as, for example, here in America. A class studying American or European history can look to the hijrah and life in Mecca and Medina and begin to establish connections from themes such as religious persecution by the dominant religion (i.e., Muslims escaped persecution through the hijrah and English Puritans escaped persecution by fleeing to

Integrating an Islamic Studies curriculum 149 America), relationships and bonds with the natives (i.e., the bond between the Muhajireen and Ansar5 and the bond between some Pilgrims – newly arrived Puritans – and Native Americans) and other similar incidents. Even the idea of warfare can be examined, as early Islam did not engage in fighting, while post­ Islamic state (i.e., Medina) had to permit warfare in order to be considered a viable, sustainable government and official state.

Science Our middle school science teacher, Mrs Abeer Saleh, has been teaching science for the past 10 years in both the public and private education systems. When Mrs Saleh came to teach at the Islamic school, she decided to incorporate Qur’anic verses that relate to science, and the knowledge gained from historical Muslim scientists and inventors, into the science curriculum. Aiming for a more holistic approach, she made her students establish a connection with the knowledge of the Qur’an through specific verses that corresponded with the Islamic scientists. Students had heard of the Wright brothers, but what about the Musa brothers? Mrs Saleh created a special class called Qur’an in Science in which she teaches her students to appreciate Islamic scientists’ rich history during the Golden Age as well as the application of the Qur’anic verses. She capped the curriculum for the year by having her students research, write and act out unique plays displaying their knowledge of historical Muslim scientists, their contributions to their fields and how the science relates back to the Qur’an. Students performed their plays for both the school and the broader community. The curriculum is designed around five categories: life science, mathematics, chemistry, geography and physics. For each category, students learn both about a verse of the Qur’an and a biography about an Islamic scientist relating to this field. The Qur’anic revelation and the scientific discovery by the historical Muslim scientist or inventor correlate and are the foundation for the student­ developed skits. They develop the plays based on what they have learned and demonstrate that knowledge through their performances. The Qur’an is an integral part of teaching science. The Qur’an in Science course is an elective that provides students a chance to learn scientific concepts by utilising a variety of learning methods including discussion, experience, and teaching. Here is an excerpt from the Islamic Scientists Playbill from a recent school year, including synopses of the introduction and an excerpt from one of the acts within the play: Sample Synopsis of Islamic Scientists Introduction in Playbill During the Golden Age, there was a yearning for advancements in the area of mathematics and science. Discoveries made by Muslim men and women during this time have left their mark on today’s accomplishments in these fields. Men, like ibn Haytham, the first experimental scientist who wrote The Book of

150  Habeeb Quadri Optics, have made significant contributions in the area of physics, astronomy, mathematics, and optics. Women, like Fatima al-Fihri, who founded one of the world’s first universities, which still exists today in Morocco since 859 AD, have impacted the world of education. English words like cotton, giraffe, and sofa, come from Arabic words from hundreds of years ago. Eighth grade students will enlighten you with the knowledge they have gained about Muslim scientists who have contributed greatly to the fields of mathematics and science. There will be four groups performing for you tonight. The following is a summary of their performances along with biographies of each scientist, verses from the Holy Qur’an (Muslim Holy Book), Hadith (written reports of statements or actions of Prophet Muhammad, Peace be upon Him), and translations of Arabic words that you will hear in each play. Sample Excerpt from the Islamic Scientists Act entitled “The Magic School Bus” In this performance, school teacher, Ms. Fizzah, starts the lesson for her students with a riddle: “What do soup, soap, and coffee have in common?” Her students are baffled at this question but must find the answer. What better opportunity do the students have than to find the answers on their journey in the Magic School Bus to the time of the Golden Age? What lies ahead for these children and their vivacious teacher, Ms. Fizzah? As they travel through the centuries, the students learn about everyday items we use today. Are they able to answer the riddle? Arabic terms you’ll hear: Qahwa (coffee); Ya Sadeeqy (Oh my friend) Qur’anic Science co-relation: Qur’an (5 verse 6): “O ye who believe! When ye prepare for prayer, wash your faces, and your hands (and arms) to the elbows; rub your heads (with water); and (wash) your feet to the ankles. If ye are in a state of ceremonial impurity, bathe your whole body. But if ye are ill, or on a journey, or one of you cometh from offices of nature, or ye have been in contact with women, and ye find no water, then take for yourselves clean sand or earth, and rub therewith your faces and hands, Allah doth not wish to place you in difficulty, but to make you clean, and to complete his favor to you, that ye may be grateful.”

Conclusion As schools develop, it is incumbent upon us as educators to keep revisiting the curriculum, instruction and tarbiyah process of teaching Islamic Studies. As the Prophet demonstrated, knowledge is not retained by simple rote memorisation and/or reading, but through critical examination, discussion, experiences and implementation. As Islamic educators, it is necessary to establish a baseline of national and general benchmarks of what each child should learn through their Islamic education. Through this, we will begin to identify what exactly is crucial to focus on and address in relation to the culture and environment our students are currently facing. Due to the fact that Islamic school students will later

Integrating an Islamic Studies curriculum 151 progress to being productive citizens in society, we need to be confident in what our students have reflected upon and learned in order that they can implement that knowledge seamlessly into their lives. Additionally, it is imperative that we educate holistically – specifically, by integrating an Islamic education not solely through school, but at home as well, in order that the knowledge they learn is relatable and directly applicable. It is vital to mold our future Muslim leaders to not only have knowledge of the deen and dunya (life in this world as opposed to life in the hereafter), but to also encompass and manifest that knowledge through behavior and akhlaq (practice of virtue, morality and manners) in order to effectively integrate these qualities in themselves and into society.

Notes 1 Prophet Muhammad is the last messenger of God according to Islamic theology. SAW is the abbreviation in English for a supplication transliterated from Arabic as sallahu alaihi wa sallam (peace and blessings be upon him). Muslims make this supplication upon mentioning the name of the Prophet. 2 Aisha was the wife of Prophet Muhammad. RA is the abbreviation in English for a phrase transliterated from Arabic as radhi Allahu anhu (Allah is pleased with him/ her). This phrase is usually uttered after mentioning the name of the companions closest to the Prophet including his wives. 3 A square building at the centre of Islam’s most sacred mosque, Al-Masjid alHaram, in Mecca, Saudi Arabia. 4 Allah is the name of God for Muslims and Arab Christians. When writing the name of Allah, Muslims often follow it with terms that glorify Him. SWT is the abbreviation of one such term of glorification transliterated from Arabic as subhanahu wa ta’ala (Glory to Him, the Exalted). 5 The Muhajireen are the first converts to Islam and Prophet Muhammad’s advisors and relatives who emigrated with him from Mecca to Medina. The Ansar are the early Muslims from Medina.

References Abdussalam, N. (2016). Al-Ghazali’s the Forty Principles of the Religion (Al-Arba’in Fi Usul ad-Din). London: Turath Publishing. Glasser, W. (1986). Control Theory in the Classroom. New York: Perennial Library. Huus, K. (2011, June 13). Islamic schools on the rise in US, struggle for acceptance. Life on NBCNEWS.com. Retrieved April 20, 2017, from www.nbcnews.com/ id/43331744/ns/us_news-life/t/islamic-schools-rise-us-struggle-acceptance/ #.WUXFuWiGPIU Islamic School League of America. (n.d.). Start an Islamic school. Retrieved April 20, 2017, from https://theisla.org/ parents-community/start-an-islamic-school/ Wilde, O. (1890). The Picture of Dorian Gray. New York: Modern Library.

9 Integrated and holistic madrasah education curriculum The Singapore madrasah model Farah Mahamood Aljunied and Albakri Ahmad Introduction Madrasah education across the world carries various connotations and reputation – some desirable while others are questionable. The many reasons for its current disposition could be due to the relevance and appropriateness of its curriculum, the socio-cultural milieu of the country and the students it seeks to serve. This paper describes the effort to enhance madrasah education in Singapore. This effort primarily aims to enable madrasahs in Singapore to nurture students to become religious scholars and teachers that are future-ready and able to serve in modern and technology-driven Singapore. A significant feature of this effort is the development of an integrated curriculum for the secondary level that integrates several subjects to make learning meaningful and relevant to the lives of the students. The integrated curriculum will also make teaching of Islamic Studies more experiential and process-based to enable students develop the thinking skills necessary of future religious scholars and teachers.

Background on madrasah education in Singapore History Madrasahs1 play an important role in the socio-religious development of the Muslim community in Singapore. They are key institutions of Islamic learning. They played and continue to play a pivotal role in developing and producing religious scholars and teachers as well as the religious functionaries that lead and support the ecosystem of religious life of the Muslim community in Singapore. Madrasahs in Singapore were established in the early 20th century by Arab and Malay philanthropists who saw the need for formal education in the community (Aljunied and Hussin, 2005). Local communities and families also formed madrasahs in villages to provide Qur’an reading classes to the children in the neighbourhood. These madrasahs were discontinued due to dwindling attendance as families and communities moved to urban housing as a result of Singapore’s national development project in the 1960s. The madrasahs established

Integrated and holistic Islamic education 153 by the philanthropists offered a formal curriculum consisting of both religious and academic subjects. These madrasahs continued to serve the community and evolved over the years in order to meet the ever-changing needs of the Muslim community (Buang, 2009). Resulting from demographic changes and parents’ choice of primary level schooling for their children, six full-time madrasahs2 are now in existence with a total population of approximately 4,000 students across primary, secondary and pre-university levels (MUIS, 2011).

Successes and challenges During the 1930s and particularly at its peak in the 1960s, madrasahs had been successful in producing the religious scholars and elites for the community (MUIS, 2010). While their focus had been to serve the needs of the local community, Madrasah Aljunied Al-Islamiah was also instrumental in the training and development of Muslim scholars and leaders within the region (Buang, 2009) such as the current Minister and former Minister of Religious Affairs of Brunei and senior ulama (religious scholars) in Malaysia. Luminaries such as the current Mufti of Singapore, Dr Mohammad Fatris Bakaram; the former Mufti, Syed Isa Semait; as well as other religious leaders such as Ustaz Pasuni Maulan or the current President of Singapore Islamic Scholars & Religious Teachers Association (Pergas), Ustaz Mohd Hasbi Hassan, were among the many illustrious graduates of Madrasah Aljunied. While many have chosen to remain in the religious domain and serve in religious institutions, others have ventured into other areas such as business, law, library science, finance and education, some even as teachers in the national schools (Cyberita, 2013; Berita Harian, 2013, 2014, 2015). While such career choices are personally driven (Isa, 2008), it nevertheless showed that madrasah education did not only meet the religious needs of the individual (fard ‘ain), but also the broader needs of the community and society (fard kifayah)3 (The New Paper, 2015; Madrasah Irsyad Zuhri Al-Islamiah, 2015; Mukhlis, 2009). Despite its success in producing graduates who meet the needs of the Muslim community, madrasahs will have to address challenges such as the changing demographics, evolving socio-religious realities and emerging issues faced by the community and Singapore (The Straits Times, 2013). In addition, parents’ and students’ aspirations and expectations towards madrasah education are also changing. Many parents do not want their children to just learn Islamic sciences and have access to only one educational pathway (Steiner, 2011). Instead, they view madrasah education as a holistic educational programme that allows their children to learn both religious and worldly sciences and hence, have access to multiple educational pathways (Alatas, 2006; Douglass and Shaikh, 2004). However, the concern is that the current curriculum, pedagogy, assessment methods, teachers’ training and student development programmes may not be adequate and appropriate to nurture madrasah students who can play effective roles as ulama and religious functionaries in the future (Nasr, 2012; Sikand, 2005).

154  Farah Mahamood Aljunied And Albakri Ahmad At the tertiary level, the option for madrasah students is also limited although private education centres offer degree programmes of universities from Indonesia and Malaysia that are delivered in Singapore mainly over the weekends or during intensive study periods. At present, most madrasah students would either attend universities in the Middle East such as Al-Azhar University, Islamic University in Madinah and University of Jordan, or in South East Asia such as International Islamic University Malaysia, Universiti Sains Islam Malaysia (USIM) and Universiti Islam Sultan Sharif Ali (UNISSA) in Negara Brunei Darussalam. While these universities have served the students well, students now wish to have a wider choice of universities for them to pursue their study with a qualification that would facilitate such aspiration. In trying to meet these expectations, some madrasahs, such as Madrasah Aljunied and Alsagoff have sought recognition of their madrasah certificates to allow their students to pursue tertiary study at other “non-traditional” Islamic universities in the Middle East, Turkey and Malaysia (Madrasah Aljunied Al-Islamiah, 2014; Madrasah Alsagoff Al-Arabiah, 2015). Diversifying the tertiary options for madrasah students will further enrich the religious talent pool for the Muslim community. Given these developments and challenges, Majlis Ugama Islam Singapura (MUIS)4 or Islamic Religious Council of Singapore posited the following questions to assess existing madrasah curriculum and to enhance the madrasah education system in Singapore. a) How to develop “21st Century” future-ready ulama’? i) Is the existing madrasah education programme adequate? ii) What else is required? • Do the contents, pedagogies, assessment methods and teacher-skills need to be improved? •  Is there a unique pedagogy for teaching Islamic education? b) What are the existing or new educational models that can be explored that meet these needs?

Joint Madrasah System (JMS) To optimise resources and improve madrasah education, MUIS, together with three madrasahs – Madrasah Al-Irsyad Al-Islamiah, Madrasah Al-Arabiah ­Al-Islamiah and Madrasah Aljunied Al-Islamiah – agreed to collaborate and form the Joint Madrasah System (JMS) in 2007. The JMS enabled madrasahs to harness their strength on the specific educational level while allowing respective madrasah to preserve their history, vision and mission. In 2009, the JMS was formally established. Madrasah Al-Irsyad offers the primary level and serves as the feeder school to Madrasah Al-Arabiah and Madrasah Aljunied, which offer secondary-level education. Madrasah Aljunied will also offer pre-university education in addition to

Integrated and holistic Islamic education 155 secondary-level education. Madrasah Aljunied will continue to offer both the Islamic and national curricula, while Madrasah Al-Arabiah will focus on providing the national curriculum but with additional Islamic Studies subjects. Through JMS, MUIS assisted the madrasahs with additional funding, seconded senior MUIS officials as school leaders, and availed management systems and professional development programmes for teachers (Mukhlis, 2009; Tan, 2009).

Review of madrasah education Following the formation of JMS, which availed MUIS and the participating madrasahs of a unified systems view, MUIS carried out a study to validate existing strengths, identify gaps and understand the expectations of parents and students. The study consists of the following parts. Firstly, MUIS, through the Madrasah Curriculum Development Strategic Unit (MCDSU), administered a survey in 2009 on parents and students attending the three madrasahs to understand their expectations and aspirations. A total of 1,185 questionnaire forms were distributed to Primary 6, Secondary 3, 4 and 5 (upper secondary) students as well as parents at all three madrasahs. Of these, 776 (65.49 percent) forms were sent to students while 409 (34.51 percent) were sent to parents. While not everyone responded or completed the questionnaire form, a total of 531 (68.43 percent) students and 315 (77.02 percent) parents returned the forms (MUIS, 2009). Secondly, MUIS also conducted focus group discussions with teachers and with upper secondary students of all madrasahs. Thirdly, MUIS visited five schools and two agencies locally as well as 11 schools overseas (one in Indonesia, two in Turkey, two in Australia and six in UK). Fourthly, MUIS appointed a review team consisting MUIS Heads of Departments and Directors to conduct an internal assessment and analysis of the existing madrasah education, as well as those in the region and the Middle East. Finally, MUIS sent officers to attend relevant conferences locally and internationally as well as relevant courses to ensure that they are aware of the latest developments and trends in the educational sector. The information and insights gathered from the study gave MUIS a greater appreciation for, and understanding of, the issues and concerns faced by the madrasahs. The findings of the survey showed that generally, students and teachers were happy, engaged, committed and passionate about madrasah education. Teachers who attended courses to improve themselves by acquiring new teaching skills and methods were able to provide students with engaging and rich learning experiences. Such learning experiences, however, were not uniform across all classes and madrasahs. It was up to the individual teacher to incorporate and apply effective teaching methods. To promote interactive, engaging and richer learning experiences in all the madrasahs, there needs to be a systemic and schoolwide initiative. Any continuing professional development (CPD) programme that any teacher attends must not be random but mapped onto the larger wholecurriculum initiative and fully aligned to the curriculum’s objective and vision. There was a curious and strong consensus on the way forward expressed by both teachers and students. Some of the suggestions include connected lessons that are

156  Farah Mahamood Aljunied And Albakri Ahmad contextualised to the present and deal with contemporary issues, the application of new and advanced pedagogies and teaching approaches, progressive forms of assessments, a standard curriculum and materials across madrasahs, additional qualifications for students to pursue that provides them with more educational pathways and more training programmes for teachers. Based on these aspirations, the following areas of curriculum were given due attention: • • •

Integrated curriculum Contemporary and contextualised learning materials Advanced pedagogies and progressive assessments

Integrated curriculum Drake and Burns (2004) describe three categories of integration: multidisciplinary integration, which focuses primarily on the disciplines and how different subjects are connected; inter-disciplinary integration, which arranges the curriculum around common topics or learnings across various disciplines; trandisciplinary integration, where curriculum is organised based on students’ queries and interests. For the purpose of the madarasah curriculum reform, the challenge is to decide which form of integration best suits the needs of the students taking into account the fact that they have to sit for the national examination which prescribes its own syllabus and requirements. An integrated curriculum has always appealed to the imagination of the Muslim community as they believe that they are expected to excel in this world and the hereafter and that they are to seek knowledge from cradle to grave. With such a worldview as well as the experience of past local Muslim scholars to look up to who excelled in both the worldly and religious disciplines, it is understandable that both teachers and students harbour those aspirations. In an interview, Seyyed Hossein Nasr (2012) spoke of the need to reconstruct an education system based on Islamic traditions. He shared that in the past, Islamic scholarship would include a myriad of disciplines based on Islamic traditions and principles. This contrasts with the present situation where knowledge and sciences have advanced tremendously and typically developed on its own unilateral track separated from Islamic values and principles. There is a need to revive the Islamic education system to accommodate the needs of the community. However, there is no one clear and agreed approach to revive the education system as traditionalist and reformists differ in their view of what constitutes Islamic education. The traditionalists’ view is that the curriculum should consist of mainly the religious subjects such as the study of Qur’an and Hadith and its related subjects with minimal ‘secular’ subjects such as ­English language and mathematics, to produce religious scholars who are well versed in the religion yet have enough exposure in the modern sciences. However, the reformists have a broader perspective and would like to see a more inclusive curriculum that allows students to not just become religious scholars but also knowledgeable in the modern subjects. Hence the focus would be on

Integrated and holistic Islamic education 157 learning the ‘secular’ subjects but with sufficient knowledge of Islam to practice and understand the religion properly (Sikand, 2005; Tan, 2009).

Contemporary and contextualised learning materials Regardless of the differing emphasis, it is necessary for students to learn in a contemporary and contextualised manner. In many madrasahs, teachers teach Islamic Studies subjects using traditional reference books or notes they themselves create. Some teachers use the books prepared by Al-Azhar University. However, what these books have in common is that they do not address the local context nor do they cite examples and issues related to contemporary times and contexts. There is, therefore, a mismatch between what the students learn in the madrasah and the experiences and issues they face everyday. Such disjoint has also caused difficulties for students to make sense of their lived experiences and the teachings of the religion. At the same time, there is a concern by the asatizah (religious teachers) of secularisation creeping into religious/madrasah education as new forms of learning materials (such as e-books, new textbooks, online resources, etc.) are used. Even the idea of revising the learning materials could be seen as an attempt to secularise madrasah education, i.e., moving away from the classical/traditional intent and method of Islamic learning (Sikand, 2005).

Advanced pedagogies and progressive assessments The study has shown that the pedagogies and assessments employed in the madrasahs primarily consisted of lectures and rote learning. Interestingly, some madrasahs were already starting to infuse new teaching methods such as collaborative and problem-based learning. Such inclusions were possible because teachers attended professional development courses and attained additional academic qualifications in the field of education (The Straits Times, 2014). However, most madrasah teachers still employed paper and pen and memory-based assessment methods as the curriculum did not require them to employ the more progressive and authentic assessments such as those practiced in the national schools. Moreover, in the madrasahs, the ability to memorise and recall facts was more valued than the ability to apply the knowledge. Nevertheless, it must be emphasised that both memorisation and rote learning are still relevant and necessary. What is required, however, is a broader suite of teaching and assessment methods in order to better reflect the contemporary learning needs of the students (Waghid, 2011). Based on the findings of the study discussed above, MUIS revamped the madrasah education model, curriculum and programmes, and identified areas and practices that should be strengthened or discontinued.5

Student-centred educational pathways The revised madrasah education model centres on the individual student’s interest and aptitude. In designing the new curriculum, much thought was given

158  Farah Mahamood Aljunied And Albakri Ahmad to consider the various pathways and learning that the students experience. To ensure that students have enough options to choose from, a two-track system was identified. After completing their primary education and based on their results at the national level Primary School Leaving Examination (PSLE) and the school-based Islamic Studies Placement Examination (ISPE), students will choose between the (a) Ukhrawi (religious) track at Madrasah Aljunied, or (b) the Faith-Inspired (STEM-focused) track at Madrasah Al-Arabiah. Each track will allow students to graduate with a recognised qualification, typically the GCE “O” level examinations administered by the Singapore Examination and Assessment Board. For students on the Ukhrawi track, they will also attain a qualification in Islamic Studies that is recognised by Al-Azhar University in Cairo, Egypt and other regional Islamic universities. Due to space constraints, the remaining sections will focus on the Islamic Studies curriculum of the Ukhrawi track. However, the detailed description of the Faith-Inspired (STEM-focused) track is included in the annexes for a comprehensive appreciation of the overall JMS model (see Annex A).

Revised Islamic Studies curriculum The three key elements mentioned in the earlier section formed the overarching features of the revised curriculum. These elements were then expanded to include other salient features to consolidate students’ learning and will be elaborated in the following paragraphs.

Curriculum development: integration of subjects A major task was to integrate the existing 18 subjects in Islamic Studies, taught in Arabic language, into six subject groupings (see Annex B for subject listing). This will facilitate a multi-disciplinary approach to teaching and learning. Integrating the subjects will also strengthen and broaden students’ understanding of the discipline. To integrate the subjects within the Islamic Studies domain, an intra-disciplinary method was employed (Drake and Burns, 2004). However, it was not sufficient to just bring together the sub-disciplines and integrate them into the main body of knowledge within that subject domain. Evidently, it was necessary to first review the existing syllabus and identify the areas of integration and consolidation based on the following principles: a) b) c) d) e)

Age and developmental appropriateness Contemporariness and contextualisation Inter- and intra-disciplinary connections Comprehensive domain knowledge Application oriented

The reason for selecting the above principles, two of which have been mentioned earlier (contemporariness and contextualisation and inter and intra-disciplinary

Integrated and holistic Islamic education 159 connections), goes back to the reason and intent of curriculum development itself, i.e., for which age group is this curriculum intended for, what are the objectives and outcomes to be achieved, the milieu in which it exists and what are the aspirations and motivations of the parents and students (Schwab, 1973; Tyler, 1949). By ensuring the age and developmental appropriateness of the content selected, students will be able to grasp the content, skills and values in a more confident and engaging manner as they will be able to understand, apply, analyse and evaluate their learning appropriate to their intellectual, emotional and moral capabilities and development. While inter- and intra-disciplinary connections and integration are incorporated, deep domain knowledge is also important to ensure that students have sufficient and relevant knowledge of the discipline that they are learning and that no dilution of the critical content occurs. The word critical is essential as often it may be misconstrued that everything that is currently in the reference books of the Islamic subjects are critical content and hence should be included in the curriculum (Drake and Burns, 2004). Furthermore, an internal assessment of the madrasah curriculum found that much of the content taught did not require students to apply what they learn. Nor did it demand them to exercise their thinking skills in the manner that is required of the discipline. This finding is disturbing and if left unchecked will be detrimental to efforts to nurture and groom students to be future scholars and religious teachers. They must be taught and trained to critically apply, evaluate and find solutions to future issues and emerging problems based on the principles, skills and knowledge they acquire in school and later at the tertiary level (Savery and Duffy, 1995). For example, in learning about zakah (Islamic tithe or the compulsory giving of a set proportion of one’s wealth to charity), students must not only learn the various forms of zakah, its conditions and requirements, but also discuss it from a broader perspective by including perspectives and issues of social justice, wealth management, taxation, new forms of wealth, etc. The focus is more on contemporary forms of wealth and the related zakah practices as well as issues that are relevant to the Singapore context. Nevertheless, other zakah practices such as zakah on farm animals and produce are also covered. This is to ensure that students have a broad appreciation of the concept of zakah even though zakah on these assets are not widely practiced in Singapore.

Curriculum design: Understanding by Design To motivate learning, thinking and application, the syllabus was developed based on the spiral curriculum approach as well as a process-based learning approach using the Understanding by Design® (UbD)™ framework. UbD is a conceptual framework used in curriculum design. It uses the backward design method where the focus is on the desired results – the end goal, the evidence as proof of the achievement and the learning experiences and instructions to be employed (Wiggins and McTighe, 2005). This framework allows the curriculum to meet the above-mentioned features as well as facilitates the transfer of knowledge across

160  Farah Mahamood Aljunied And Albakri Ahmad disciplines and the alignment and coherence to the identification, planning and implementation of content and assessment. By identifying the Big Ideas (BI), Enduring Understandings (EU) and Essential Questions (EQ) for each discipline, transfer of skills and content learned in one discipline to another is possible such that students will be able to make better connections between disciplines. This is important as the revised curriculum is designed to help students make sense of what they are learning and how they can apply it in their everyday life and find solutions to problems. The new syllabus also takes cognizance of the needs and development of the child at the point of lesson delivery. Materials developed, such as textbooks, are less text-intensive and display better linkages between subjects and between disciplines.

Inter-disciplinary learning through the new Islam and Society programme As mentioned earlier, one of the essential components of the new syllabus is integrated and inter-disciplinary learning. While all subjects are designed to incorporate this feature, a new programme named “Islam and Society” was developed specifically to facilitate this. This subject requires less specialised domain knowledge yet encourages deep thinking and application of knowledge learned in the other subjects. Students at Madrasah Aljunied will attend this programme in English from Secondary 1 and will be taught basic principles of research, writing, referencing and critical thinking skills (Conklin, 2010) through various socio-religious themes that incorporate current affairs and emerging issues (see Annex C for the themes covered under this programme). This programme is not only crucial for madrasah students but also serves to prepare those who wish to embark on the International Baccalaureate Diploma Programme in their upper secondary years. Equally crucial is the teaching of various thinking skills via this programme. The aim is to nurture future religious scholars (ulama) who are comfortable and competent to employ different skills and thought processes in order to find solutions or apply their knowledge to new or different situations. These thinking skills include critical and creative thinking, ethical reasoning/moral thinking, systematic and scientific thinking, etc. (Gardner, 2008).

Improving pedagogies and assessments Pedagogies employed to deliver the content were enhanced to better reflect the changes and improvements made in the curriculum. This is in line with the changes in the Singapore national education landscape. New pedagogies introduced include: a) Inquiry-based learning, which includes project work, problem-based and case-based learning b) Cooperative and collaborative learning methods

Integrated and holistic Islamic education 161 c) Authentic learning approaches, which include authentic learning environments and participation of experts and scholars d) Information Communication Technology (ICT) for classroom and flipped classroom approach These methods and approaches are vital as they will enhance students’ learning and understanding and allow for deep, contemplative and conscientious learning of the various disciplines at hand (Yager and Akcay, 2010). Cooperative and collaborative learning and problem-based approaches were already tried at the national schools and were found to be effective and impactful. Based on these observations, these approaches were selected for use at the madrasahs. Similarly, the assessment methods used to assess students learning were expanded to include more formative learning approaches such as portfolios, journal writing, blog entries, project work, performances, voluntary services, etc. Formal assessments were reviewed for greater alignment to the new syllabus while criterion-based assessments were gradually introduced. These new ways of assessment for learning are vital to students’ learning as they let them have a sense of realism, and the opportunity to do or perform the subject and to assess their own learning against a set of success criteria. Most importantly, these assessment methods help nurture a mentality that learning and assessment is not one directional. Instead it is an iterative process that allows them to try, fail, learn and do it again. They also give teachers a clearer window to a more comprehensive, insightful and personal understanding of students’ performance and enables them to give a more discreet and appropriate feedback and guidance to the students (Janesick, 2006).

Implementation through the International Baccalaureate Diploma Programme All the features and the enhancements of the revised Islamic Studies curriculum described in the earlier sections can be incorporated in the JMS educational pathways, including and specifically through the International Baccalaureate Diploma Programme (IBDP). The IBDP’s philosophy matches and meets the intent and objectives of the JMS. The IBDP provides breadth and depth of study of the various disciplines through independent research and inquiry. It also encourages students to think and link across different subject domains through the Theory of Knowledge course. In addition, it also gives formal recognition of achievement in co-curricular activities through the Creativity, Action and Service requirement. Its 10 IB student profile, the curriculum design, teaching methods and assessment modes all fit well with MUIS’s and madrasahs’ shared vision of madrasah education (IBO website, 2015). Furthermore, it will meet students’ aspirations for additional qualification other than access to Islamic universities and courses. The International Baccalaureate Diploma Programme (IBDP) will be introduced in the madrasah beginning with the cohort of students at the Pre-U level. It will be reviewed for effectiveness

162  Farah Mahamood Aljunied And Albakri Ahmad and feasibility before it is fully implemented as a “through-train” programme. In this programme, students do not take the O-level examination at the end of their Secondary 4 as they currently do, instead they continue directly into the IBDP at years 5 and 6.

Enhanced student development programmes The revised curriculum provides for a holistic development of the students. They will be taught the necessary 21st-century skills consisting of digital media literacy, career and life skills, learning and innovation mindsets and informed by Islamic ethics and practices. These skills are crucial as they form the future skills and mindsets that the students will require in order to navigate and make sense of their future living environments (Trilling and Fadel, 2009). In collaboration with MUIS Academy and other partner institutions, experts, scholars and practitioners from various fields related to the subjects and themes taught in the madrasahs would be invited to contribute to the Islamic Scholars Programme. Students will have the opportunity to interact and learn from these scholars and experts. Students may even have the opportunity to be mentored or conduct research under their tutelage. Development programmes and activities will be conducted in and out of the classroom to achieve the desired outcomes of madrasah education (see Annex D for the philosophy and desired outcomes of madrasah education, and Annex E on the training and development programmes for students). Some of these include elective modules on Islamic banking and finance and journalism in three languages: Arabic, English and Malay.

Reflections thus far . . . Training and development In addition to the curriculum and student development, teacher training is another important focus area that must be carried out in tandem with curriculum development. Teachers will need to be trained in the new pedagogies and assessment methods before the implementation of the new syllabus. This is to give them sufficient time to practice, familiarise and internalise the new teaching and assessment methods and to address any pressing issues prior to full-scale implementation. They will also be trained in new aspects and developments in the Islamic science subjects. However, the difficulties of developing content-related training programmes, compounded by the tight and heavy schedule of teachers thereby hindering their participation, remain a significant challenge and may affect the outcome of the revised curriculum. Identifying trainers who are skilled in pedagogy and have deep knowledge on Islamic content is yet another challenge. Often, the officers from the MUIS curriculum development unit will have to interface between the two areas and mitigate the deficiencies.

Integrated and holistic Islamic education 163

Curriculum development MUIS took the decision to co-develop the revised curriculum with madrasah teachers, instead of engaging external developers. It was also an opportunity to develop capabilities in areas of curriculum development and its attendant activities, within the madrasah sector. Eleven teachers from the participating madrasahs were seconded to MUIS to develop the content of the respective subject groupings. These teachers not only developed the syllabus with MUIS officers but also served as a crucial sounding board for MUIS to better understand and appreciate the issues on the ground. During their stint with MUIS, they participated in training courses as well as discourses to enrich their experience and provide greater exposure to state-of-the-art in curriculum development and education, in general. Apart from co-developing the materials, teachers also played an important role in reviewing, finalising and designing the lesson plans. These are critical steps to ensure teachers are comfortable with the materials and are able to call them their own.

A tall order? A key challenge, apart from teacher training as mentioned earlier, was the constant discomfort and fear of change that teachers and madrasah leaders had to go through resulting from this review and the implementation of the revised curriculum. With the revised curriculum and the preparation for the implementation of IBDP, MUIS officers, together with the teachers, will continuously reassess teaching practices, the manner in which information is presented, the items assessed and how knowledge is connected to action or issues of daily living. The integrated and holistic curriculum prohibits a teacher from presenting or teaching a subject in isolation from other related subjects. It is also no longer possible for teachers to just present facts without addressing the related process and the underlying principles. Additionally, it is no longer adequate for a teacher to give assignments or assessments to reinforce or test for information without holistically assessing understanding of content taught, appreciation and internalisation of values transmitted and exhibition or practice of skills trained. Is this a tall order? Yes, but certainly not impossible. It is attainable by the determination, zest and enthusiasm of the teachers, including the concerns, anxieties and feedback they raised during this journey. Despite the difficulties and challenges, MUIS officers and the teachers remain steadfast and determined to complete the development and implementation of the integrated and holistic curriculum. The teachers did not partake in this project for themselves, but for the well-being of their students and the success of the madrasahs.

Conclusion This curriculum is still work in progress. The key to its successful development and implementation is a positive, open, critical and curious attitude towards further improvement of its content and features as well as the enhancement of

164  Farah Mahamood Aljunied And Albakri Ahmad students’ learning experience. This will consequently further enrich the teaching experience thereby creating a positive reinforcing learning-teaching cycle. There are still three more years to go before full implementation. During this period, critical assessment, creative adaptations and continuous improvements are necessary for its viability and success.

Notes 1 Madrasah in Singapore refers to a full-time education institution that offers both the national curriculum set by the Ministry of Education (MOE) Singapore as well as the Al-Azhar accredited curriculum for Islamic Studies. 2 These madrasahs are Madrasah Al-Arabiah Al-Islamiah, Madrasah Al-Irsyad ­Al-Islamiah, Madrasah Aljunied Al-Islamiah, Madrasah Al-Maarif Al-Islamiah, Madrasah Alsagoff Al-Arabiah and Madrasah Wak Tanjong Al-Islamiah. 3 Fard ‘ain is the acquisition of knowledge that is considered as an individual obligation that every Muslim must undertake, as opposed to knowledge of fard kifayah, which is considered as a collective responsibility; that is, the obligation to acquire certain knowledge is fulfilled if a section of the community fulfils it (Steiner, 2011). 4 MUIS is the highest bureaucracy in charge of Muslim matters in Singapore. A statutory body, it advises the President of Singapore on all matters relating to Islam in the country. It aims to promote religious, social, educational, economic and cultural activities for the Muslims in accordance with the principles and traditions of Islam. 5 While these activities highlight the latest review process, madrasahs have, on their own, and prior to the formation of the Religious Education Unit (REU) in the late 1980s, made their own reviews of their education system. Following the formation of REU, many review efforts were conducted, culminating in the curriculum development project for the primary level in 2001.

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Integrated and holistic Islamic education 165 Douglass, S. L., and Shaikh, M. A. (2004). Defining Islamic education: Differentiation and applications. Current Issues in Comparative Education, 7, 5–18. Drake, S. M., and Burns, R. C. (2004). Meeting Standards Through Integrated Curriculum. Alexandria, VA: ASCD. Gardner, H. (2008). Five Minds for the Future. Boston, MA: Harvard Business Press. International Bachalaureate Organisation Website. (2015). What is the DP? Retrieved November 12, 2015, from www.ibo.org/programmes/diploma-programme/ what-is-the-dp/ Isa, Z. M. (2008). Career maturity study of secondary four Madrasah students in Singapore. Unpublished M.Ed thesis, National Institute of Education, Nanyang Technological University, Singapore. Janesick, V. J. (2006). Authentic Assessment Primer (Chapter 1, pp. 1–54). New York: Peter Lang Publishing, Inc. Madrasah Aljunied Al-Islamiah. (2014). Recognitions. Retrieved November 10, 2015, from www.aljunied.edu.sg/recognition Madrasah Alsagoff Al-Arabiah. (2015). DPI (Diploma in Islamic studies). Retrieved November 10, 2015, from http://alsagoff.edu.sg/education-path/ Madrasah Irsyad Zuhri Al-Islamiah. (2015). In the news. Retrieved November 10, 2015, from http://irsyad.sg/web/?cat=52 Majlis Ugama Islam Singapura. (2009). The joint Madrasah system: Survey of student and parent attitudes report. Unpublished report. Majlis Ugama Islam Singapura. (2010). Report on the future direction of Madrasah education in Singapore. Unpublished report. Majlis Ugama Islam Singapura. (2011). Report on Madrasah students enrolment in Singapore. Unpublished report. Mukhlis, A. B. (2009). Islamic religious education and Muslim religiosity in Singapore. In J. A. Banks (Ed.), The Routledge International Companion to Multicultural Education (pp. 437–488). New York: Routledge. Nasr, S. H. (2012). Islamic pedagogy: An interview. Islam & Science, 10(1), 7–24. Retrieved March 3, 2014, from www.cis-ca.org/jol/vol10-no1/JIS-10-1-Nasr.pdf The New Paper. (2015). Former Madrasah student wins Berita Harian inspiring Young Achiever Award. Retrieved November 9, 2015, from www.tnp.sg/news/singaporenews/former-madrasah-student-wins-berita-harian-inspiring-young-achiever-award Savery, J. R., and Duffy, T. M. (1995). Problem-based learning: An instructional model and its constructivist framework. In B. Wilson (Ed.), Constructivist Learning Environments: Case Studies in Instructional Design (pp. 135–150). Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Educational Technology Publications. Schwab, J. J. (1973). The practical 3: Translation into curriculum. The School Review, 8(4), 501–522. Sikand, Y. (2005). The Indian madrasahs and the agenda of reform. Journal of Muslim Minority Affairs, 25, 219–248. Steiner, K. (2011). Madrasah in Singapore: Tradition and modernity in religious education. Intellectual Discourse, 19, 41–70. The Straits Times. (2013). Prepare Students for ever-changing socio-economic landscape: Chuan Jin. Retrieved October 1, 2015, from www.straitstimes.com/singapore/ prepare-studnets-for-ever-changing-socio-economic-landscape-chuan-jin The Straits Times. (2014). Almost all madrasah teachers are trained. Retrieved October 1, 2015, from http://news.asiaone.com/news/edvantage/almost-allmadrasah-teachers-are-trained

166  Farah Mahamood Aljunied And Albakri Ahmad Tan, C. (2009). The reform agenda for Madrasah education in Singapore. Diaspora, Indigenous, and Minority Education: Studies of Migration, Integration, Equity, and Cultural Survival, 3(2), 67–80. doi:10.1080/15595690902762068 Trilling, B., and Fadel, C. (2009). 21st Century Skills: Learning for Life in Our Times. San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass. Tyler, R. W. (1949). Basic Principles of Curriculum and Instruction. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Waghid, Y. (2011). Conceptions of Islamic Education: Pedagogical Framings. New York: Peter Lang. Wiggins, G., and McTighe, J. (2005). Understanding by Design. Alexandria, VA: ASCD. Yager, R. E., and Akcay, H. (2010). The advantages of an inquiry approach for Science instruction in middle grades. School Science & Mathematics, 110(1), 5–12.

Annex A Educational pathways

Faith-inspired pathway @ Madrasah Al-Arabiah Al-Islamiah The faith-inspired pathway provides STEM-focused education for students who are eligible to study in an Islamic environment and play a complementary role to the religious leaders and scholars graduating from the Ukhrawi stream. Madrasah Al-Arabiah offers this pathway in the JMS. In the form of two broad-based STEM-focused curricula, it caters to students with a wide range of abilities. It will be fully aligned to the national curriculum but will adapt the desired outcomes as defined by MOE. Madrasah Al-Arabiah will use the various student enhancement programmes designed for national schools, with modifications to suit the madrasah’s unique needs. This faith-inspired stream provides students with a holistic education in both academic and non-academic areas. A broad range of experiences is provided for and there are opportunities for students to develop the skills and values they need as they mature.

a) Ilmi (Express) course curriculum The Ilmi (Express) course curriculum is a four-year programme leading to the GCE ‘O’ level examination. The translation of Ilmi includes knowledge, science and learning. It is an apt descriptor of a course that heavily focuses on STEMrelated subjects and research skills. It takes in students with a T-Score of 190 and above (which is the cut-off for Express stream in the national schools). In years 3 and 4, students in the Ilmi (Express) course will pursue six subjects covering four main disciplines, namely languages, mathematics, sciences and humanities, as core subjects. Students are also given the option to take additional subjects like Arabic language, additional mathematics and biology, bringing the total number of subjects to eight or nine for the ‘O’ level examinations.

b) Mahari (Normal Academic) course curriculum The Mahari (Normal Academic) course curriculum is a four-plus-one-year programme that will allow students to sit for the GCE ‘N(A)’ examination at

Ukhrawi

Ukhrawi

inspired

Ukhrawi

Figure 9.1 Overall JMS pathways

Islamic Studies

-

Figure 9.2 Course curriculum

Integrated and holistic Islamic education 169 year 4. Thereafter, they may qualify for the GCE ‘O’ level at year 5. The term “Mahari” means dexterity or skills that succinctly describes the type of learning that is designed for this course, that is, more experiential-based learning and less academically demanding. Students with a T-Score between 160 and 189 (equivalent to the eligibility criteria for Normal Academic in national schools) will be enrolled into this course. Students are allowed to progress to the next academically demanding course if they obtain 75 percent or above aggregate score in school examinations Similar to Ilmi, year 3 and year 4 “Mahari” students will pursue six core subjects for the GCE ‘N(A)’ examination with an option to take one additional subject, Arabic language. However, they will have an opportunity to register for the GCE ‘O’ levels for two of the subjects at the end of year 4. The two subjects are Malay language, and art and design. In order to qualify for year 5, students will need to have an aggregate grade score of 19 or below for English language, mathematics and their best three other subjects combined in the GCE ‘N(A)’ level examination. Students can then proceed to sit for the GCE ‘O’ level in their fifth year. Both course curricula will allow students to proceed to institutions of higher learning for their post-secondary education.

Annex B Listing of Azhar 2.0 subject groupings

Table 9.1 Subject groupings for Azhar 2.0 From: 18 Azhar subjects

To: 6 Azhar subject groupings

 1. Fiqh  2. Usul Fiqh  3. Qawaid Fiqhiyyah  4. Tawhid  5. Mantiq  6. Hadith  7. Ulum al-Hadith  8. Tahfiz  9. Tilawah 10.  Ulum al-Qur’an 11.  Tafsir 12.  Sirah 13.  Tarikh 14.  Nahu 15.  Saraf 16.  Insha’ 17.  Adab 18.  Balaghah

1.  Fiqh studies 2.  Aqidah studies 3.  Hadith sciences 4.  Qur’an sciences

5.  Islamic history 6.  Arabic language studies

Annex C Themes for Islam and Society programme

Figure 9.3 Islam and Society themes Note: These are not stand-alone themes. They will be developed into integrated modules covering various related issues.

Annex D Philosophy and desired outcomes of madrasah education

1  Philosophy of madrasah education “An integrated and holistic learning of Islamic and Intellectual sciences, rooted to the Qur’an & Sunnah, which inspires thinking, inquiry, creativity, innovation and inculcates deep-seated ethos for continuous learning and service to humankind.”

The above philosophy encapsulates the spirit and ethos of future madrasah education where learning is integrated and inter-disciplinary in nature. Students would learn Islamic sciences in depth and yet be broadly exposed to other disciplines – including the theory of knowledge – and emerging issues (social, financial, legal, bio-ethics, etc.). This makes their learning experience profound, meaningful and current as they would be able to critically apply their knowledge to address ­modern-day issues and problems. The learning experience that students undergo would prepare them to be future ulama and Muslim professionals who have very strong grounding in the Qur’an and Sunnah, exhibit high moral standing and embrace humanity and life with zest, confidence and the spirit of serving others.

2  Desired outcomes of madrasah education (DOMEs) • A spiritually profound and well-balanced Muslim who is rooted to Islamic traditions, which include a deep internalisation of the Qur’an and Sunnah and exhibits positive moral character and behaviour. • A committed learner who has a keen spirit of inquiry, a passion for reading and strives for excellence in his or her learning endeavour. • A dynamic person who has a sound grasp of moral judgement, thinks independently and critically, is innovative and creative in finding new solutions to problems with the courage to depart from conventions, embraces diversity and is able to inspire others to do good. • A socially conscious citizen who is sensitive to the concerns of the local, possesses a global mindset and possesses a strong ethos of service to humankind. • A responsible and progressive leader who is conscientious, has a high level of integrity and constantly seeks new ideas and opportunities.

Annex E Details of student development programmes

The following programmes will be developed to inculcate the values listed below: •

Values, Character and Leadership Development programme, which encompasses the RICAP (Religiously rooted, Inclusive, Contributive, Adoptive and Progressive) values, Islamic spirituality and morality, leadership skills and service ethos (charity services and student mentoring programme). • Specialised Co-Curriculum programmes that include multiculturalism activities (acquisition of other languages, cultural exchange programmes, Islamic art), communication and media relations, internationalisation projects that include overseas humanitarian and environmental conservation and expeditions. • Specialized Development programmes such as Tahfiz (memorisation of the whole Qur’an), Scholars Guidance Programme consisting of personally guided fieldwork/research projects, coaching and mentorship through boarding or attachment programmes. • Other appropriate and relevant existing student development programmes will also be included.

Self-Awareness • God-consciousness • Know Oneself • Caring • Humility • Posive atudes • Cleanliness • Respect • Health

Leadership • Empathy • Cizenship • Imaginaon • Endurance • Self-discipline • Courage • Confidence

Integrity • Jusce • Forgiveness • Wisdom • Peacefulness • Loyalty • Honesty • Conservaon

Figure 9.4 Values related to student development programmes

10 The Islamic Studies education curriculum of Malaysian national schools A study of its philosophy and content Rosnani Hashim Introduction The issues of Islamic Studies education and Muslim education came to prominence after the September 11 attack on the World Trade Center and have been examined by various scholars (Merry and Milligan, 2010; Tan, C., 2014; Sa‘eda and Chew, 2014). Merry and Milligan (2010: 18) recognise the progress of Malaysia as a Muslim democracy and state that “Malaysia’s effort to cultivate Islamic identity, celebrate cultural pluralism and promote democratic governance may well constitute the most successful and promising example of a multicultural Muslim democracy in the world today.” Rosnani (2010) attributed this success to Malaysia’s postcolonial effort to transform an educational and political system that relegated religious identity to the private sphere into a system that tries to reflect the centrality of Islam in Malay culture and identity at the same time respecting the rights of other ethnic groups within the pluralistic society. Hence, it is evident how important an education system is in transforming its citizens and, in the context of Muslim societies, the importance of proper interpretation of the shari‘ah (Islamic legal system) and an Islamic religious education that is conducive to Muslims’ contemporary lives.

Islamic education and contemporary challenges Islamic education refers to education of the mind, soul, body and heart, which are the constituents of man. To develop the mind or intellect, Islam recognises two forms of knowledge, al-’ulum al-shari’ah (the shari’ah sciences)1 that are derived from revelation, and al-’ulum al-’aqliyyah (the rational or acquired sciences) that are derived from sense experience, empirical evidence and reason. The body is maintained through physical exercise and healthy living, the soul is nourished by moral and spiritual education, more specifically tazkiyah al-nafs, while the heart is like an inner eye that pierces through the secrets of the unseen world by the will of God. Islamic education is integrated with respect to the knowledge and the development of all these dimensions. Islam as a way of life does not separate the sacred from the mundane. Al-Attas (1990) attempts to define the concept

The Islamic Studies education curriculum 175 and goal of Islamic education by dissecting the terms ta’lim, tarbiyah and ta’dib. He refers to ta’lim as imparting of knowledge, and provides a semantic and logical demonstration of how the term ta’dib is more appropriate than tarbiyah in describing Islamic education. Its aim is to recognise and acknowledge the existence of God in the order of creation and for men to realise their position vis-à-vis God and His creations. With proper adab (manners) and wisdom, man will be just to himself, society and God. Al-Ghazali classifies knowledge as fard ‘ain and fard kifayah, i.e., both are obligatory but the former is an individual obligation such as prayer while the latter is a community obligation, e.g., producing doctors for the hospital and teachers for the schools. Meanwhile, the 1977 First World Conference on Muslim Education in Mecca affirms that the ultimate goal of education is the holistic and balanced development of the individual, who is able to undertake the responsibility of the ‘abd (servant) and khalifah (vicegerent). Due to these responsibilities, both types of knowledge classified above are essential to Islamic education. In fact, all knowledge is sacred in Islam because they are signs of God, the Author of Creation whether in the Holy Scripture or in the physical world. Hence, Islamic education is comprehensive covering all forms of knowledge while Islamic Studies Education (henceforth ISE) referred to in this chapter confines itself to the studies of the shari’ah, naqli or revealed sciences. In the context of Malaysia, ISE is one of the subjects taught in schools and it is given a substantial seven periods weekly from Grade 1, which is comparable to mathematics or English language. It provides the foundations for the Islamic faith, values and worldview. An effective ISE can provide students with the basis for distinguishing right from wrong from the perspective of Islam through proper knowledge, spiritual strength and insight into how to live with others for an orderly society. The challenges confronting society are multifaceted. Globalisation and urbanisation, and the increasing sophistication of information and communication technology all contribute to making life a difficult passage to maneuver for the uninitiated. Youths and adolescents, in particular, are easily susceptible. The National Registration Department (NRD) recorded births of 159,725 children out of wedlock by Muslim mothers in the country since 2013 – 53,492 births in 2013, 54,614 in 2014 and 51,169 in 2015, as reported in the Malay daily, Berita Harian.2 Other studies of Muslim teenagers in Malaysia brought into focus those who were involved in black metal gangs (related to a type of wild band), where music and songs are associated with satan worship (Wan Noor Afizatun Liza, 2003; Hazman, 2011). These teenagers were found to have stepped on the Holy Qur’an, drink alcohol, have free sex and take drugs. For Muslims, the above are signs of grave moral and social illnesses plaguing society today. It becomes ever more important for the young to receive a good Islamic religious instruction that can help buffer against influences that conflict with Islamic values. This chapter examines the Malaysian National ISE curriculum with a focus on its philosophy and content using Ornstein and Hunkins’ (2009), Tyler’s (1975) and Tauhidi’s (2001–2007) curriculum frameworks. The aim is to discover the extent to which the curriculum provides students with

176  Rosnani Hashim adequate and relevant resources (knowledge and spiritual strength) which they can draw on as a guide when encountering life’s many challenges. Due to limited space, teaching methodology and evaluation and assessment will not be given significant attention.

Background of the Malaysian ISE curriculum The Malaysian ISE curriculum has gone through several phases and revisions in light of societal changes. First, the pondok3 era (mid-19th century till the First World War) during which the kitab kuning or classical texts written in Malay jawi4 script were extensively used. These texts were translations of traditional, well-known texts written by great scholars such as al-Ghazali and Shaykh Daud al-Fatani, or their commentaries. The pondok then emphasised the shari‘ah sciences and Arabic only (Rosnani, 2004: 24–28). This was soon found to be inadequate because of its focus on the religious sciences and memorisation and its omission of the acquired or ‘foreign’ sciences. The encounter with the white colonial master and their superiority in science and technology compelled the Muslims to take a second look at their education. By this time, Malay graduates of al-Azhar University had begun to be influenced by the progressive reform movement spearheaded by Jamaluddin al-Afghani and Muhammad Abduh, who had argued for the opening of the door of ijtihad and the importance of bringing back science and critical reasoning into the Muslim curriculum. Second, the madrasah5 era (between the First World War and Independence in 1957) was pioneered by graduates of the new al-Azhar school championed by Abduh. Unlike the pondok, the madrasahs were more regulated and adhered to a fixed school schedule and students’ age, and classrooms were filled with chairs and desks. There was also a departure from the pondok curriculum, from one that was totally religious comprising the shari’ah sciences and Arabic language to one that included the acquired, natural and human sciences. For example, the curriculum of Madrasah Saadiah Salihiyah (1914–59) in Perak was made up of about 70 percent shari‘ah sciences and Arabic, and 30 percent acquired, rational (or ‘aqliyyah) sciences, e.g., mathematics, Malay, geography (Badriyah, 1984, cited in Rosnani, 2004: 35). This made the madrasahs popular and many pondok converted to madrasah over the Malay vernacular schools established by the British because these schools did not include ISE in its curriculum. Instead, consistent with the philosophy of the colonial government, it comprised mainly Malay, basic arithmetics, gardening and arts and crafts so that the pupils would only become better farmers or fishermen. Towards Independence after the Second World War, there was greater realisation among the Muslims that English and Malay vernacular education was economically of greater value than the pondok or madrasah education, but these schools were secular and lacked Islamic religious instruction. Third, the post-Independence era (1957–88) where primary and secondary national schools were mandated through the Razak Report 1956 and the Education Ordinance 1957 to introduce ISE. But this policy was not properly implemented until the Rahman Talib Report and Education Act of 1961. During

The Islamic Studies education curriculum 177 this period, various institutions offered ISE: pondok, madrasah, Sekolah Agama Rakyat (People’s Religious Schools or SAR), Sekolah Agama Negeri (State Religious Schools or SAN) and the national schools. SAR were set up by the local people or the community to teach Islamic Studies. SAR were preferred over the madrasahs because Malay was the medium of instruction compared to Arabic in the madrasahs. After Independence, many madrasahs converted to SAR by virtue of their switch to Malay as the medium of instruction. SAR students sit for two examinations – the national examinations at the end of the ninth and 11th years and also the religious school examinations in the 10th and 12th years. SAN are similar to SAR except that they were established by the state religious department or council which provided funding. In 1977, the Ministry of Education absorbed 11 SAR, one from each state in Peninsular Malaysia and converted them into National Religious Secondary Schools (Sekolah Menengah Kebangsaan Agama or SMKA). The initial focus of these schools was to prepare students for further or post-secondary Islamic Studies specialisation at the National University of Malaysia (UKM) and the University of Malaya. Fourth, the Integrated Curriculum for Secondary Schools (Kurikulum Bersepadu Sekolah Menengah or KBSM) era that began in 1989. The emphasis was on integrated education, i.e., integration of shari’ah sciences and acquired, natural and human sciences, integration of values across all subject disciplines and integration of theory and practice especially for religious instruction. More hours were allocated to ISE, and the ISE upper secondary track (religious class track) was introduced in very few, selected regular, national secondary schools in addition to the science, arts and business tracks. Many SAR began to adopt the integrated curriculum and thus reduced the number of subjects that students had to take. Under KBSM, the SMKA were further reformed to prepare students with a wider choice of foundation in either the shari’ah or the acquired sciences. This was to broaden the students’ knowledge base and increase their prospect for higher education. Hence, SMKA graduates began to further their studies at the universities in Islamic Studies or applied and natural sciences, social sciences and human sciences. Later, in 2005, the Integrated Fully Residential Schools (Sekolah Berasrama Penuh Integrasi or SBPI) were established with two compulsory tracks only, namely al-’ulum al-shari’ah and the Applied and Natural Sciences unlike the other SMKA which also offered the Social and Human Sciences track. The idea was to produce more faith-based and integrated professionals. Consequently, for most SBPI students, they took up as many as 11 subjects for the secondary school national examinations, something akin to the previous SAR system. This, however, was not considered a heavy load for the students as they were selected from among the best and were likely to pursue further studies in the acquired sciences rather than Islamic Studies. Only four of 20 universities then, namely UKM, IIUM, UM and USIM offered Islamic Studies and the number of places was limited. For example, in the 1998/99 academic session, only 1,381 places in Islamic Studies or 11.3 percent of the total number of places in all the universities were available for 12,121 qualified candidates (Rosnani, 2004: 217). Since 2003,

178  Rosnani Hashim the Malaysian High School Religious Certificate (Sijil Tinggi Agama Malaysia or STAM) was introduced to regulate standards and uniformity of the high school ISE curriculum in preparation for both local and overseas universities in Islamic Studies. The Ministry of Education (2013) reveals several providers of ISE in Malaysia namely: (i) the MOE public or national schools (5,777 primary and 1970 secondary), (ii) MOE Government-aided Religious Schools (Sekolah Agama Bantuan Kerajaan or SABK6 (169 primary and 36 secondary), (iii) the SAN (974 primary and 108 secondary) and (iv) the SAR (358 primary and 156 secondary). Thus, the number of MOE schools outnumbers the SABK, SAR and SAN. It is also true today that the SABK, SAR and SAN employ the state religious curriculum for ISE, offer the MOE syllabuses for the other subjects and prepare students for similar national examinations. The only difference is that they offer higher Arabic language and various components of ISE as separate subjects in the secondary level. Consequently, this chapter focuses on the MOE schools only as they are the predominant ones.

Curriculum principles and framework A person’s approach to curriculum reflects his or her values, perceptions and knowledge. A curriculum framework (Ornstein and Hunkins, 2009) consists of (i) curriculum foundations – philosophical, historical and psychological, that relate to learning theory and social issues; (ii) curriculum domain – common, important knowledge in the field; and (iii) curriculum theory and practice. Tyler (1975) defines curriculum as “all of the learning of students which is planned by and directed by the school to attain its educational goals.”7 In general, a curriculum comprises the philosophy, content or knowledge, methodology and evaluation. Usually in a school, we can observe (i) the planned, formal curriculum with goals, objectives, subjects and organised instruction; (ii) unplanned, informal curriculum in the social-psychological student-teacher interaction; (iii) the hidden curriculum, i.e., unwritten but will be learned by students; and (iv) the null curriculum, i.e., absent and inferred as of less value. No matter which approach one takes, there are three basic focal points on curriculum decision – nature of the knowledge or the subject matter, nature of the individuals or learners and nature of the society. These three focal points have been decisive in deciding on content and making other curriculum decisions. This is true too for Islamic curriculum but with the specific difference in epistemology, where two kinds of knowledge are recognised, i.e., the knowledge revealed through the prophets in the Holy Scriptures and the knowledge man acquired through the use of his rational mind and sense experience. Both kinds of knowledge point to the One Reality. Similarly, the nature of the learner from the Islamic perspective is not a dualism of mind and body but rather a composition of the mind (‘aql), soul (ruh), matter (jasad) and discerning inner heart (qalb). Finally, the nature of the society also differs – utilitarian pragmatism, faith, democracy, authoritarian, secular, Islamic, etc.

The Islamic Studies education curriculum 179 The curriculum foundation provides the external boundaries for the curriculum field and this consists of the philosophical, historical, psychological and social foundations, which include culture, politics and economics. Meanwhile, the curriculum domain provides the internal boundary for the field and this includes curriculum knowledge, curriculum development and design. Curriculum design is the way we conceptualise the curriculum and arrange major components to provide direction and guidance as we develop it. In general, curriculum writers do not have a single design but are influenced by many. Tauhidi (2001–07) draws up the curriculum strands and their outcomes for an Islamic curriculum that comprise spirituality (God-consciousness), intellectual (knowledge), moral (character), physical (healthy living), cultural (daily living), social (public service) and inter-personal (human relations). According to Wiggins and McTighe (1998), in a learning design at the curriculum stage, it is important to identify the outcomes guided by the key question “what is worthy and requiring of understanding?” followed by design considerations and design criteria. In designing the curriculum, the specialist might need to consider the alumni and the industry players’ perspectives, the professional standards, the programme strengths and the teachers’ expertise. Design criteria includes enduring ideas, uncovering misconception, engaging students and what is measurable and attainable. In designing the learning objectives, Bloom’s taxonomy of educational objectives classified them into cognitive, affective and psychomotor. In selecting content, the following criteria may be applied: maximum self-sufficiency in the most economic manner; significance in terms of basic ideas, concepts, principles; validity or authenticity of the content; interest; utility or usefulness; learnability that is not socio-economic status (SES) bias and feasibility in light of the time allowed. In curriculum design, two conceptual frameworks, namely the vertical organisation, i.e., the sequencing of curriculum elements across grades such as from Grades 1 to 11, and horizontal organisation, i.e., the blending of curriculum elements across subjects, are common. The design also considers six kinds of relationships, which are scope, continuity, sequence, balance, integration and articulation (Ornstein and Hunkins, 2009).

The philosophy of ISE As alluded to by Ornstein and Hunkins (2009), there are many resources to draw upon in curriculum design. Among them are the nature of the learners, the society, the knowledge regarded as most worthy, the scientific findings and the moral doctrine of the society. And according to Tyler (1975: 34), “an educational and social philosophy can actually operate as a screen for selecting and eliminating educational objectives. . . . In essence, the statement of philosophy attempts to define the nature of a good life and a good society.” Hence, in designing a curriculum, one cannot operate in a vacuum. There is a need to examine the present and future conditions of society. The young generation has to be prepared for their time. In fact, the words of wisdom from a companion of the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) were: “Prepare your children for their time.”

180  Rosnani Hashim

The philosophy of the primary ISE This curriculum review begins by examining the philosophy of the educational programme. The philosophy of ISE for the primary level is stated in the syllabus (PPK, KPM, 2010a: 1). It aims: To produce a Muslim who is knowledgeable, a firm believer, skillful, perform good deeds and is morally excellent based on the Holy Qur’an and the Tradition (of the Prophet Muhammad) so that he becomes a God conscious servant and vicegerent of Allah who will contribute to enhance the Islamic civilisation and the nation as a whole. The specific objectives or learning outcomes that are expected to be achieved by the end of the primary level (PPK, KPM, 2010a: 2) are stated as follows: Students are able to: 1) read selected chapters from the 30th juzu’ of the Holy Qur’an properly and eloquently so as to inculcate interest in its reading and develop this into a habit. 2) memorise selected, commonly read verses of the Qur’an. 3) understand the meaning of selected chapters of the Qur’an and internalise its lessons as a commitment to the guidance from God. 4) understand the basic articles of belief and is committed that these are the stronghold and bastion of faith. 5) practice the basic rites of worship (fard ‘ain) and understand the obligation of the Muslim community in societal relationship (fard kifayah). 6) understand and derive lessons from the history of the Messenger of Allah as the basis for human civilisation.

The philosophy of secondary ISE The aim of ISE in the secondary level (PPK, KPM, 2010b: 1) is similar to that of the primary level. We can assume that this is a long-term goal to be achieved after the completion of basic schooling. The specific objectives or learning outcomes that are to be achieved by the end of the secondary level (PPK, KPM, 2010b: 2) are stated as follows: Students are able to: 1) read selected verses of the Holy Qur’an correctly and eloquently so as to inculcate interest in its reading and develop it into a habit. 2) memorise selected verses of the Qur’an for the purpose of readings in the five daily prayers and other daily worship. 3) understand the meaning of selected verses of the Qur’an and Traditions (ahadith) that are studied and to internalise it as a source of law and guidance.

The Islamic Studies education curriculum 181 4) strengthen belief in the article of faith and internalise the concept of tawhid consciously in all his deeds and make it his religious pillar. 5) reinforce and enhance the practices of worship for individual development (fard ‘ain) and understand the obligation of the Muslim community in societal relationship (fard kifayah) so as to enhance the community in this world and the hereafter. 6) understand and draw lessons from the history of the Prophet Muhammad, the four rightly guided Caliphs and Muslim scholars as the foundation for moulding and developing humankind. 7) exemplify good moral behaviours and display universal moral values as the foundation of a nation and culture of high integrity. 8) read and write using Jawi through its application in the teaching and learning of ISE and as a national heritage that should be rejuvenated and preserved.

Analysis of the philosophy of education It is evident that the aims of Islamic Religious Education for both primary and secondary education are comparable because they are truly long-term goals. The ISE aims to produce a Muslim who is knowledgeable, a firm believer, skillful, performs good deeds and is morally excellent based on the standards of the Holy Qur’an and the Tradition of the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh). At the same time, it aims to produce someone who is a God-conscious servant and vicegerent of Allah who will contribute to the development of human civilisation and the nation. These goals are worthy but they can also be problematic because they do not distinguish the students based on their stages of human development. As such, one can see that the specific objectives are not distinctly differentiated by the phases of their cognitive, physical and affective development. The only difference is in the quantity and level of materials to be studied such as the Qur’anic verses to be read and memorised, the rites of individual and communal worship, the Islamic history and the pillars of Islam and faith. The specific objectives translate into the traditional categorisation of Islamic studies, namely: (i) aqidah (firm belief) or tawhid (belief in one God); (ii) al-Qur’an and its memorisation and meanings; (iii) fiqh or Islamic law in relation to the five pillars – shahadah, prayers, fasting, zakat (alms giving) and hajj (pilgrimage); (iv) Sirah or history of the Prophet, Islamic state of Madinah and the Caliphs; (v) akhlak or moral conduct. It is important to distinguish the two levels of education at least in terms of its objectives if not also the rationale for doing so, but these are not articulated clearly. This may result in teachers not appreciating the need to use age-­ appropriate methods in their teaching. First, there is no statement that emphasises character and moral development in primary education when psychologically this is the most proper and important phase in human character development. This phase is very important also for spiritual and social development. Although the primary syllabus focuses on many aspects of manners (adab), but these are more of social etiquettes rather than character development, unlike for secondary

182  Rosnani Hashim education whereby character traits are more explicitly stated. Second, the objective of reading and writing using the Jawi script is not mentioned at all in the primary level but is stated in the secondary level. This gives the impression that there is no continuity in Jawi between the primary and secondary schools. This is not the case as it has been the practice in primary schools to teach Jawi since the Jawi, Qur’an, Arabic and Fard ‘Ain8 (J-QAF) programme was introduced in the primary ISE curriculum in 2006. Third, one of the specific objectives of the curriculum is to make sure that ISE will strengthen belief and “that these are the stronghold and bastion of faith” against any undesirable influences. This statement would be better appreciated if located in a context, for instance, the globalised world with its pluralism, liberal values and the extensive use of the Internet, and the challenges and opportunities that they pose.

The contents of ISE curriculum To achieve the objectives set by the curriculum, it is vital to provide the appropriate learning experiences. The problem then is “determining the kinds of experience that is likely to produce given educational objectives” (Tyler, 1975: 65). Tyler (1975) outlines a few principles in selecting these learning experiences: (i) opportunity to practice the kind of behaviour implied by the objective; (ii) students obtain satisfaction from carrying on the behaviour; (iii) the reaction desired is within the range of possibility for the students involved; (iv) many particular experiences can be used to attain the objective; and (v) the same learning experience can bring about several outcomes. These principles ought to bear in the choice of the contents. In this section, the curriculum contents of ISE for both the primary and secondary levels will be first described and then critically analysed.

Curriculum content of primary ISE The curriculum content of the primary ISE (PPK, KPM, 2010a: 2) is divided into four key areas: 1) Basic tilawah al-Qur’an – reading, memorisation and understanding of verses of the Qur’an 2) Basic ‘ulum shari‘ah – aqidah (faith), ibadah (five pillars of Islam) and sirah (history of the Prophet Muhammad) 3) Basic Islamic moral characters – rules and adab toward Allah and the Messenger; self; parents; family; teachers; the natural environment; the community and state based on shaja‘ah (courage), ‘iffah (temperance), ‘adalah (justice) and hikmah (wisdom) 4) Jawi reading, writing and calligraphy As mentioned previously, J-QAF was introduced in 2006 and the number of periods allocated per week to J-QAF is as follows: Jawi (one period), Qur’an (four

The Islamic Studies education curriculum 183 periods), Fard ‘Ain or Al-’ulum al-shari’ah (one period) and Arabic (one period). One of the goals of the ISE J-QAF is completing the reading of the whole Qur’an in proper tajwid (pronunciation and sound) before the end of year 6. To accomplish this, more ISE teachers were employed such that in the beginners’ class, the extra teacher’s task was devoted to Qur’an and Jawi literacy and also memorisation of Qur’anic verses.

Curriculum content of secondary ISE The secondary ISE curriculum content (PPK KPM, 2010b) is designed to meet the needs of every Muslim student in terms of his or her fard kifayah obligations for life in this world and the Hereafter. Unlike in the primary school, the seven periods are divided between ‘Ulum shari‘ah, Qur’an and adab. It consists of three areas: 1) Tilawah al-Qur’an and Tradition (Hadith) – read, memorise, understand and internalise the Qur’an and Hadith as the sources of law 2) Al-’ulum al-shari’ah – aqidah (faith), ibadah (the five pillars), sirah (history of the Prophet) and Islamic civilisation 3) Adab or manners based on Islamic code of conduct – the basis of a Muslim life and his/her relationship with Allah, his or her self, family, the natural environment, the community and the state

Analysis of the curriculum contents Primary ISE Several issues can be gleaned from the contents of the primary ISE. First, the issue of Qur’an recitation whereby students are required to recite the entire Qur’an (about 6,666 verses) fluently in their class by the end of their sixth year of primary school. Despite the extra teacher for J-QAF in class, quite a number of students were found not to be proficient in reading the Qur’an. Consequently, teachers resorted to the BIG Programme (Baca Ikut Guru or Read with the Teacher) where students follow the teacher reading literally till completion. The objective of reciting the entire Qur’an is not compatible with the range of possibility for the students and the learning experience is not appropriate to their predispositions (Tyler, 1975). What is more important is to cultivate in the students a positive attitude towards the Qur’an and a love for its recitation and for him/her to achieve this at their own pace. Second, in the component on worship (ibadah), the content appears to be relevant to the students’ age and development. It covers topics on physical cleanliness and ablution, ways to perform prayers – the obligatory five daily and Friday prayers and many other superogatory prayers like Eid ul-Fitri and Eid ul-Adha – and fasting in Ramadan. For the upper primary, however, there is no topic related specifically to haidh (menstruation), particularly its significance and relationship

184  Rosnani Hashim to puberty. The contents only touch on the categorisation of haidh as one of the bigger impurities (hadath) under the topic of ‘cleansing from hadath’, which is to prepare the girls for resuming their prayers which had to cease during menstruation. The expansion of the topic on haidh is crucial especially for female Grade 5 and 6 students, some of whom would have begun to reach puberty. The knowledge will not only help them to understand their religious obligations during menstruation but their sexual responsibility. Third, missing in the content despite its importance is the topic on the female’s awrah, i.e., parts of the women’s body that should not be exposed except to her immediate family members, and how it should be covered decently. This is more often discussed under regulations for prayer, which gives the impression that women should cover their awrah only during prayers but not at other times. Fourth, adab or manners spread over 47 topics and arranged under six categories (see Appendix 1). The topics for adab are broad and useful in moulding students’ character but these are detached from the character of the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh), who is regarded as the exemplary model as emphasised in the Qur’an. To endear students to him, the children should learn and understand how the Prophet conducted himself in various circumstances and in different ways that highlighted his wisdom. In the field of Sirah, it covers the Prophet’s biography of events from before his birth till his death including his family, his youth, the revelation of the Qur’an, the list of battles he was involved in and the circumstances of his death. However, it does not give room for the students to learn and emulate the Prophet’s character as a father, a husband, a teacher, an imam and a community leader. The list of battles may not be appropriate for this age and could be deferred to the secondary level. But a focus on the Prophet’s character would be a useful addition and this could be incorporated in either Sirah or adab. Fifth, the aqidah component does not seem to contain any stories about the prophets from Adam to Isa (‘alayhimus salam) that are found in the Holy Qur’an. This is surprising since children are known to enjoy listening to stories of the Prophets, and these stories are important illustrations of the struggle between the forces of good and evil, where the forces of good can triumph over evil with the help of God. This would have been an excellent way to imprint the concept of belief (aqidah) and good moral values. The aqidah also does not include any topics on science and discoveries which highlight nature’s law (sunnatullah) and the greatness of God such as the human respiratory system and the reproductive system or how plants obtain their food. This is a more appropriate way to nurture faith in children over memorisation of meaningless phrases as it has the capacity to arouse the child’s interest. Sixth, the curriculum desires to revive and preserve Jawi as the medium of writing of the Malay language as it used to be in the past as evident from the works of scholars such as Shaykh Daud Fatani, Shaykh Ar-Raniri, Shaykh Abdus Samad al-Palembani, Hamzah Fansuri, T.S. Lanang and Munshi Abdullah, who wrote using Jawi whether they were from Malaysia, Indonesia, Southern Thailand, Vietnam, Singapore, Brunei or Champa. Jawi, in addition to the Malay language,

The Islamic Studies education curriculum 185 was the unifying factor for Muslims of the Malay Nusantara (Archipelago) who had a common Islamic literature. However, during the colonial period, for pragmatic reasons, the British replaced the Jawi script with Rumi (Romanised letters) for the Malay language. In 1965, after the government officially chose Rumi over Jawi, the Malays’ command of Jawi declined to the point that the sole Malay newspaper in Jawi, Utusan Melayu, had to finally cease circulation by the close of the 20th century. Today, Jawi is only used in ISE classes and in ISE textbooks. Due to this limited exposure, students have a low command of Jawi, which hinders their learning and interest in Islamic Studies (Nik Rosila, 2007). Perhaps the use of Jawi in ISE classes should be reviewed.

Secondary ISE In general, the examination of the secondary ISE curriculum content shows that it is developmentally appropriate for the students’ age, and is arranged in a good sequence. Still, there are areas that can be strengthened. First, the hadith selected for the syllabus are related to the following topics: (i) encouragement to seek knowledge; (ii) guidance for the firm believers; (iii) the responsibilities of each mukmin (firm believer); (iv) the concept of charity (sadaqah); (v) the good deeds of mukmin (firm believers); (vi) adab to animals; (vii) avoidance of forbidden food; (viii) brotherhood in Islam; (ix) appreciating life; and (x) the personality of a believer. Under these various topics, only 10 hadith are learned throughout the five years of secondary school. This amounts to two hadith in a year, which is very little compared to the thousands of sound hadith compiled by the great scholars of hadith such as Imam Muslim and Imam Bukhari. Additionally, hadith is studied only for the knowledge of rules and guidance prescribed by the Prophet with very little focus on hadith as a way of knowing and loving the Prophet. Second, the topics for the component of adab or manners (see Appendix 1) are the same as that found in the primary curriculum with the addition of two categories, namely manners in performing worship and manners towards Allah and His Messenger. Looking at the specific topics, it is clear that they are appropriate for secondary students, but manners in performing worship would be a repetition because they are already discussed within the component of ibadah. Third, it is questionable if any meaningful learning of Sirah and Islamic civilisation can take place given that there is a lot of content to be covered within the time allocated. Furthermore, it does not help in building a Malay Muslim identity when most of the great personality examined in the curriculum were famous Muslim scholars of the early Islamic era such Imam Shafie and none are contemporary or from the Malay archipelago. Fourth, it was found that certain important subjects for this level are missing from the fiqh component such as the sources of Islamic law and the elements of al-maqasid al-shari’ah, i.e., the objectives of the Law. These are important and useful to help students acquire additional standards or criteria when making decisions that involve moral dilemma such as issues on premarital sex and theft. There

186  Rosnani Hashim is also no emphasis on the purification of the soul (al-tazkiyah al-nafs), which is important if students are to develop into spiritually strong Muslim personalities with good character traits such as patience (sabr), contentment (qana’ah) and trustworthiness (amanah) and who has the mental and psychological strength to negotiate life’s many challenges always keeping God close to his heart. Fifth, although there are efforts by some teachers to render the religious knowledge relevant by making connections with the real world, more needs to be done in this direction. Topics could be expanded to address contemporary issues confronting the present generation and also to make the connection between ISE and the real world clearer. For instance, the Internet and its ethical use, drug addiction, smoking, alcohol, gambling, pornography and premarital sex are topics that can be dissected within the framework of what they learn in the Qur’an, Hadith, jurisprudence and sirah.

Further remarks In general, the ISE curriculum content for the KBSM (Kurikulum Bersepadu Sekolah Menengah) or the Integrated Secondary School Curriculum is better supported with infrastructure than the previous curriculum. It has been observed that since the introduction of the KBSM in 1989, prayer rooms or halls are found in almost every school allowing students to perform the daily prayers (zuhr, ‘asr or both) while in school either individually or in a congregation. This firmly establishes the theory-practice nexus as far as daily prayers are concerned. Students’ performance in Qur’an reading skills, knowledge and memorisation, their understanding of the Islamic worldview and their religious commitment (fulfilling the dress code, performing regular prayer etc.) have also been observed to be better. This was born out by a recent study (Rosnani et al., 2015) that reveals that 73.3 percent of a sample of 2,171 secondary school students perform at least four of the five daily prayers and about 46.6 percent read the Qur’an at least on alternate days, while 25.7 percent read it once a week. However, the study found that only 24.4 percent of those who read the Qur’an in Arabic read its translation for understanding. Thus, many are not reading the Qur’an for meaning and guidance. This finding can be traced to the learning objective of the J-QAF programme, which requires students to complete the recitation of the whole Qur’an (khatam al-Qur’an), replete with the proper tajwid. There is no emphasis on the internalisation of the meaning of the verses read. This is in contrast to what the Qur’an enjoins in verse 2 of Chapter 2 (al-Baqarah) where it clearly states that it is a book for guidance. A final point for reflection is the usefulness of using Jawi script as the appropriate writing medium for ISE. Students’ exposure to Jawi is only in the ISE classes and in its textbooks, not enough to develop sufficient skills for effective reading and writing. This hinders their learning of Islam and demotivates them (Bohari, Abu Bakar and Mohammed, 2014; Mat Lia, 1999; Yazid, M., 1991). Fortunately, classroom instruction is conducted in Malay and students still have access to other religious books written in the Roman script. In her studies of

The Islamic Studies education curriculum 187 Form 2 and Form 4 students, Nik Rosila (2007) found that there was a strong correlation between proficiency in Jawi and academic achievement. Rosnani et al. (2017) reported that primary school students who attend the extra after-school programme, or KAFA, which provides them with additional exposure to Jawi, appear to have a better grasp of Jawi leading to their improvement in Qur’an reading skills. This perhaps indicates that if schools allocate more time to Jawi or if the teaching method is improved, there is a chance that students could improve on their Jawi and their learning of the Islamic religious subjects.

Conclusion This chapter has attempted to evaluate the Malaysian primary and secondary ISE curriculum using curriculum principles as framework for analysis. Curriculum is an important discipline that will guide the school in four components: philosophy, content, pedagogy and assessment. There ought to be consistency between goals, content, methods and assessment for a curriculum to be successful. In this study, the ISE curriculum was evaluated only on two aspects, namely philosophy and content, with the aim of understanding the extent the curriculum adequately prepares Muslim students for the contemporary challenges that confront them. Applying Tauhidi’s framework to the ISE, it is clear that for both primary and secondary ISE, there is an imbalance between the intellectual, moral and spiritual dimensions of the programme. Presently, there is too much emphasis on the cognitive and the ritual – (adab, ibadah and fiqh) – at the expense of the affective and the spiritual. As for Qur’anic literacy, there is a disproportionate amount of time devoted to recitation with relatively less attention paid to meaning and thus understanding. Given the amount of text that students have to learn to recite and memorise, it begs the interesting question of whether critique is practiced in the classroom. Only a study on the pedagogy will bear this out. There is also adequate evidence to suggest that the other dimensions, namely cultural, social and interpersonal, have been given scant attention. Very few topics are up for discussion that are relevant to the lives of the students. There is an urgency to add value to the religious knowledge that students receive by applying them to contemporary issues and everyday situations. Objectives and content that further this aim have to be incorporated in the ISE curriculum to ensure that students do not develop a disconnect between the classroom and the outside world. Insights that students gain from this learning experience will strengthen the role of ISE as a moral compass that will serve the students well into adulthood.

Notes 1 Shari‘ah sciences refer to the body of knowledge or sciences that are based on the Qur’an and the Traditions of the Prophet Muhammad, comprising the Qur’anic exegesis, hadith literature, fiqh, aqidah, sirah and akhlak. 2 See more at: www.themalaymailonline.com/malaysia/article/nrd-statistics-show159725-illegitimate-muslim-children-born-since-2013#sthash.0GT1W0Gs.dpuf. Retrieved on 3 January 2017.

188  Rosnani Hashim 3 Pondok was one of the early traditional educational institutions established in Malaya (possibly named after the the Arabic ‘funduq’). They were small one-room huts built around the mosque where prayers were held and instructions or lessons given. 4 Jawi is the traditional, written script of the Malay language before it was romanised by the British during the colonial period. It consists of 28 Arabic alphabets and a few more additional letters to accommodate Malay speech sounds. 5 ‘Madrasah’ is borrowed from Arabic, which means “a place of learning”, or a school, from the root word dars which means a lesson. The plural of madrasah in Arabic is madaris. 6 The SABK or government-aided religious schools were SAR that accepted the MOE’s offer to register under it and be managed by it, retain use of the state’s religious syllabus, given financial assistance for its management, upgrading teachers through training, providing trained teachers and offering better salaries, etc. However, the school body retains ownership of the school building and land. 7 For more on curriculum approaches, see Ornstein and Hunkins (2009). 8 Fard ‘Ain refers to the basic Islamic knowledge obligatory for every individual Muslim. It comprises aqidah (faith), ibadah (five pillars of Islam) and sirah (history of the Prophet Muhammad).

References Al-Attas, S. M. N. (1990). The Concept of Education in Islam. Kuala Lumpur: ISTAC. Badriyah, S. (1984). Kampung Hj. Salleh dan Madrasah Saadiah-Salihiah 1914– 1959. Kuala Lumpur: Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka. Bohari, M., Abu Bakar, M. R. and Mohammed, N. (2014). Penguasaan Kemahiran Membaca dan Menulis Jawi dalam Kalangan Murid-Murid Tahap Satu Sekolahsekolah Kebangsaan Program Latihan Perguruan Berasaskan Sekolah KPLI. Retrieved April 26, 2014, from www.scribd.com/doc/97997183/Kajian-jawi-Misri. Hazman, H. (2011). Pengaruh satanisme dalam fenomena metal di Malaysia: analisa dari perspektif akidah Islam [Satanic influence in metal phenomenon in Malaysia: An analysis from the perspective of Islamic faith]. Ph.D. Dissertation, Akademi Pengajian Islam, Universiti Malaya, Kuala Lumpur. Mat Lia, J. (1999). Penilaian terhadap kemahiran membaca jawi di kalangan murid tingkatan dua di sebuah sekolah menengah di Wilayah Persekutuan [An evaluation of Jawi reading skills among form two students in the federal territory]. Project Paper, University of Malaya. Merry, M. S., and Milligan, J. A. (Eds.). (2010). Citizenship, Identity, and Education in Muslim Communities. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Ministry of Education Malaysia. (2013). Educational Statistics 2013. Bahagian Perancangan dan Penyelidikan Dasar Pendidikan. Putrajaya: KPM. Nik Rosila, N. Y. (2007). Penguasaan Jawi dan Hubungannya dengan Minat dan Pencapaian Pelajar dalam Pendidikan Islam [Command of Jawi and its relationship to interest and student’s achievement in Islamic Education]. Jurnal Pendidik dan Pendidikan, Jil. 22, 161–172. Ornstein, A. C., and Hunkins, F. P. (2009). Curriculum: Foundations, Principles and Issues (5th edition). New York: Pearson Education/ Allyn and Bacon. PPK, KPM [Curriculum Development Division, Ministry of Education] (2010a). Sukatan Pelajaran Pendidikan Islam [Islamic Education Syllabus] KBSR. Kuala Lumpur: KPM.

The Islamic Studies education curriculum 189 PPK, KPM [Curriculum Development Division, Ministry of Education] (2010b). Sukatan Pelajaran Pendidikan Islam [Islamic Education Syllabus] KBSM. Kuala Lumpur: KPM. Rosnani, H. (2004). Educational Dualism in Malaysia: Implications for Theory and Practice (2nd edition). Kuala Lumpur: The Other Press. Rosnani, H. (2010). The challenge of identity, education and citizenship for Muslims in a pluralistic society: A case study of Malaysia. In M. S. Merry and J. A. Milligan (Eds.), Citizenship, Identity, and Education in Muslim Communities (pp. 167– 188). New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Rosnani, H., Mohd Farid, S., et al. (2015). Laporan Kajian Kerelevanan Kurikulum dan Berkesanan Pengajaran dan Pembelajaran Matapelajaran Pendidikan Islam bagi Menghadapi Cabaran Masakini [Report of the Study on the Relevance of the Curriculum and the Effectiveness of the Teaching and Learning of Islamic Studies Education in Meeting Contemporary Challenges]. Kuala Lumpur: IKIM & UIAM. Rosnani, H., Zulquarnain, A., Adnan, A. R., Mohammad Zaini, Y., and Aderi, C. N. (2017). Laporan Kajian Penambahbaikan Kurikulum KAFA [Report of the Study on Improving the KAFA Curriculum]. Kuala Lumpur: LEPAI, JAKIM. Sa’eda, B., and Chew, P. G. L. (Eds.). (2014). Muslim Education in the 21st Century: Asian Perspectives. London: Routledge. Tan, C. (Ed.). (2014). Reforms in Islamic Education: International Perspectives. London: Bloomsbury. Tauhidi, D. (2001–2007). Education for Total Development, the Tarbiyah Project: A Holistic Vision of Islamic Education. Canton, MI: Tarbiyah Institute for Learning & Devt. Tyler, R. W. (1975). Basic Principles of Curriculum and Instruction. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Wan Noor Afizatun Liza, W. O. (2003). Black metal: Keruntuhan akhlak di kalangan remaja Islam [Black metal: Decline of moral behaviours among Muslim adolescents]. Masters Tesis, Faculty of Islamic Studies, UKM, Bangi. Wiggins, G., and McTighe, J. (1998). Understanding by Design. Alexandria, VA: Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development. Yazid, M. (1991). Penguasaan jawi di kalangan murid-murid sekolah menengah di negeri Kelantan: Satu kajian khusus di daerah Kota Bharu [Command of Jawi among secondary school students in Kelantan: A case study of Kota Bharu]. Project Paper, University of Malaya.

Appendix 1 Islamic manners (adab) and moral conduct (akhlak) for primary and secondary schools

Primary school

Secondary school

3.1 Adab in daily life: 3.1.1 Adab of eating and drinking. 3.1.2 Adab of washing in the toilet. 3.1.3 Adab of going to bed and waking up. 3.1.4 Adab of bathing and brushing the teeth. 3.1.5 Adab of ablution. 3.1.6 Adab of putting on clothes. 3.1.7 Adab of travelling. 3.1.8 Adab of entering and going out of the house. 3.1.9 Adab of serving food and drinks. 3.1.10 Adab of taking a walk. 3.1.11 Adab of asking for directions. 3.1.12 Adab of managing oneself. 3.2 Adab towards parents and the family: 3.2.1 Adab of talking to parents. 3.2.2 Adab of helping parents. 3.2.3 Adab of interacting with the family

3.1 Adab in daily life: 3.1.1 Adab of preserving the male and female nature (fitrah). 3.1.2 Adab of friendship. 3.1.3 Adab of accepting mishaps and receiving blessings. 3.1.4 Adab with neighbours. 3.1.5 Adab of protecting oneself and dignity. 3.1.6 Adab of thinking. 3.1.7 Adab of grooming. 3.1.8 Adab of taking care of the sick. 3.1.9 Adab of a traveller. 3.1.10 Adab of living in a nation. 3.1.11 Adab with leaders. 3.1.12 Adab of struggling for a good cause.

3.3 Adab in social life: 3.3.1 Adab in interacting with friends. 3.3.2 Adab in the mosques and musalla. 3.3.3 Adab in speaking to a friend. 3.3.4 Adab in receiving guests. 3.3.5 Adab in visiting the sick. 3.3.6 Adab in visiting friends. 3.3.7 Adab in visiting elderlies.

3.2 Adab towards parents and the family: 3.2.1 Adab with parents. 3.2.2 Adab of interacting with the family. 3.2.3 Adab of giving service to parents. 3.3 Adab in social life: 3.3.1 Adab towards Muslims and non-Muslims. 3.3.2 Adab of receiving guests. 3.3.3 Adab at work. 3.3.4 Adab of speaking in a gathering. 3.3.5 Adab of encouraging goods and forbading evils (da’wah).

Primary school 3.3.8 Adab with the elders. 3.3.9 Adab in paying respect to the dead and going to the grave. 3.3.10 Adab in eating in a gathering 3.3.11 Adab with neighbours. 3.3.12 Adab in a meeting. 3.3.13 Adab in selling and buying. 3.3.14 Adab at work 3.3.15 Adab in visiting neighbours. 3.3.16 Adab in playing. 3.3.17 Adab toward public property and place. 3.3.18 Adab of loving the country. 3.3.19 Preserving the cleanliness of rivers and natural environment. 3.3.20 Adab of going for a trip. 3.3.21 Adab with other people and other living creatures. 3.3.22 Adab with leaders. 3.4 Adab in seeking knowledge: 3.4.1 Adab of speaking with teachers. 3.4.2 Adab of going to school. 3.4.3 Adab of studying. 3.4.4 Adab while at school. 3.4.5 Adab of arguing. 3.4.6 Adab of helping teachers. 3.4.7 Adab of taking care of school properties. 3.4.8 Adab of maintaining school cleanliness. 3.5 Adab with the Qur’an: 3.5.1 Adab of carrying and keeping the Qur’an. 3.5.2 Adab of reading the Qur’an.

Secondary school 3.3.6 Adab in a recreational place. 3.3.7 Adab in maintaining public property. 3.3.8 Adab in paying respect to the dead. 3.3.9 Adab of conserving nature. 3.3.10 Adab of giving and receiving charity or gifts. 3.3.11 Adab in selling and buying.

3.4 Adab in seeking knowledge: 3.4.1 Adab in taking care of the school properties. 3.4.2 Adab in learning. 3.4.3 Adab in seeking knowledge. 3.4.4 Adab of speech.

3.5 Adab in performing Ibadah: 3.5.1 Adab of reading the Qur’an. 3.5.2 Adab in the mosque/ musalla. 3.5.3 Adab towards the Qur’an. 3.5.4 Adab in making supplication. 3.5.5 Adab in performing prayers 3.6 Adab toward Allah and the Messenger: 3.6.1 Adab of Zikrullah (remembering Allah). 3.6.2 Adab of respecting the Messenger.

Part III

Issues in educational reforms

11 Policy borrowing in madrasah education The Singapore experience Charlene Tan and Diwi Binti Abbas

Introduction Given that the knowledge that becomes part of the madrasah curriculum reflects the local conditions in which it is created, any rethinking of madrasah education necessarily involves an interrogation of the knowledge shared by a madrasah community in a particular political, economic and socio-cultural context. This chapter critically discusses reform in madrasah education using Singapore as an illustrative case study. Our discussion draws upon Phillips and Ochs’s (2004) framework of education policy borrowing with a focus on the different views of knowledge held by the madrasah community and the state. The chapter begins by providing an overview of madrasah education in Singapore, followed by an introduction of Phillips and Ochs’s (2003) framework on policy borrowing. The chapter then applies Phillips and Ochs’s framework to the development of madrasah education in Singapore. The chapter further illustrates this through a case study of curriculum reform in a madrasah in Singapore. The final section highlights a key challenge faced by madrasahs in Singapore in their attempts to reform madrasah education.

An overview of madrasah education in Singapore1 As a multi-ethnic country, Singapore is comprised of Chinese (78 percent), Malays (14 percent), Indians (7 percent) and other races (1 percent). It is also religiously diverse, with the majority of the population being Buddhists (42.5 percent), followed by Muslims (14.9 percent), Christians (14.6 percent), Taoists (8.5 percent), Hindus (4.0 percent), other religions (0.6 percent) and those who profess to have no religion (14.8 percent) (Department of Statistics, 2010). Among the ethnic groups, the Malays are the most homogenous with 99.6 percent of Malays who are Muslims. As almost all Malays are Muslims in Singapore, this chapter shall focus on Malay/Muslims, and use the two terms ‘Malay’ and ‘Muslims’ synonymously. The first madrasah was established as early as the beginning of the 20th century. The oldest madrasah in Singapore is believed to be Madrasah Al-Sagoff AlArabiah, established in 1912 by Syed Mohamed Al-Sagoff, who was a rich Arab

196  Charlene Tan And Diwi Binti Abbas businessman (MUIS, 2009).2 The number of madrasahs grew steadily from the 20th century to around 69 madrasahs in 1950s and 1960s (Sa’eda, 2009). However, with Singapore’s independence in 1965 and the emergence of state schools (known as ‘national schools’ in Singapore) for all Singaporeans, the number of madrasahs diminished in number from the 1970s. By the 1980s, full-time madrasahs had reduced to only six – the number that remains to this day.3 There are at present about 4,000 students studying in the six full-time madrasahs. Each madrasah has its own Management Committee (MMC) that is registered under the Education Act. Under this Act, the madrasahs are considered as private schools. The Ministry of Education (MOE) appoints the members of the MMC and the appointments are renewed every two years. At the same time, all the madrasahs come under the control of MUIS (Majlis Ugama Islam Singapura or Islamic Religious Council of Singapore). The highest bureaucracy in charge of Muslim matters in Singapore, MUIS is a statutory body to advise the president of Singapore on all matters relating to Islam in the country. It aims to promote religious, social, educational, economic and cultural activities for the Muslims in accordance with the principles and traditions of Islam as enshrined in the Holy Qur’an and Sunnah (recorded actions and sayings of the Prophet Muhammad). Among its principal functions are the administration of pilgrimage affairs and halal (literally ‘permissible’, applying to food that adheres to Islamic law) certification, the construction and administration of mosques development and management and the administration of Islamic religious schools and Islamic education. In terms of their educational vision, the madrasahs generally aim to produce religious leaders to lead the community on religious matters as well as Muslim professionals. In terms of curricula and syllabi, essentially each madrasah designs and decides on its own aims and objectives. Both religious subjects such as Islamic education and secular subjects such as English and mathematics are taught in the madrasahs. The subjects offered by the madrasahs include religious subjects such as Tawhid (monotheism), Fiqh (jurisprudence), Tafsir (Qur’anic exegesis), Hadith (Prophetic sayings), Sirah (biographical life of the Prophet) and the teaching of Arabic language which is the Qur’anic language, and academic subjects such as English, Malay, mathematics, science, geography and history. The madrasahs devote different amount of curriculum time for secular subjects, ranging from 30 percent to 60 percent (Tan, 2007). Besides the examinations set by the madrasahs, some madrasah students have been taking the Cambridge Board General Certificate of Education (GCE) examinations for secondary and pre-university students since the early 1970s (Noor Aisha, 2006). Full-time students at the madrasahs usually apply for admission to overseas Islamic universities, although a small number who obtain good academic grades at the GCE ‘A’ Level examinations choose to go to secular universities in Singapore. There are also those who apply for admission to the polytechnics directly after the GCE ‘O’ and then to the local universities. With the implementation of the Compulsory Education legislation in 2003 (more details will be given on this legislation later), all madrasah students must sit for the primary school terminal examinations known as the Primary School Leaving Examination (PSLE)

Policy borrowing in madrasah education 197 at the end of the primary school from 2008 onwards. The next section provides an introduction of Phillips and Ochs’s (2003) framework on policy borrowing.

Phillips and Ochs’s framework of education policy borrowing Phillips and Ochs (2003) introduce a model that describes the four stages of policy borrowing in education: cross-national attraction, decision, implementation and internalisation/indigenisation. We shall briefly outline the four stages (the content for this section is taken from Phillips and Ochs, 2003, unless otherwise stated). Although Phillips and Ochs’s framework focuses on policy borrowing between countries, we have adapted the framework to focus on policy borrowing between two educational sites or systems. The first stage, according to Phillips and Ochs, ‘cross-national attraction’, is comprised of two parts, namely ‘impulses’ and ‘externalising potential’. The former refers to the preconditions and motives for borrowing. These include both internal factors such as political change (for example, a change of regime) and dissatisfaction of key educational stakeholder (parents, teachers and students, etc.) with the local education system, as well as external factors such as unsatisfactory external evaluation in international assessments (the most prominent example is the Programme in International Student Assessment [PISA]) and economic competition (for example, global emphasis on nurturing graduates with 21st-century competencies). The other component of cross-national attraction is externalising potential. This refers to aspects of educational policies and practices that can be borrowed, specifically the ‘six foci of attraction’: guiding philosophy or ideology of the policy, ambitions/goals of the policy, strategies for policy implementation, enabling structures that support education and education system, educational processes (style of teaching and regulatory processes) and educational techniques. These foci are situated within 13 elements of context – demographic, geographical, historical, political, social, cultural, religious, linguistic, philosophical, administrative, economic, technological and national character – by which they are shaped and which in turn shape the extent of adaptability for the focus of attraction. The second stage is ‘decision’ that comprises the range of measures taken by the government and/or other agencies to launch the process of change. Phillips and Ochs identify four descriptors that illustrate the decision (Phillips and Ochs, 2004: 780): ‘theoretical’ (broad policies that might remain general ambitions not easily susceptible to demonstrably effective implementation); ‘phoney’ (enthusiasms shown by politicians for aspects of education in other countries for immediate political effect, without the possibility of serious follow-through); ‘realistic/ practical’ (measures which have clearly proved successful in a particular location without their being the essential product of a variety of contextual factors which would make them not susceptible to introduction elsewhere); and ‘quick fix’ (a dangerous form of decision-making in terms of the use of foreign models as easy solutions for the time being).

198  Charlene Tan And Diwi Binti Abbas The third stage is ‘implementation’ where a foreign model is adapted based on the contextual factors of the borrower system. The extent of change depends on the adaptability of the specific policy measure as well as the influence of key stakeholders (‘significant actors’) who may facilitate or impede the implementation. As noted by Phillips and Ochs, stakeholders such as local education authorities and principals “might receive support in terms of national and local encouragement and financial incentive; or they might face blockage (inaction, delaying tactics, non-decision) on the part of those who can see ways to subvert what they regard as alien policy” (p. 456). The final stage is ‘internalisation/indigenisation’ where the “policy is contextualised” (Phillips and Ochs, 2004: 780) and becomes part of the system of education of the borrower. Phillips and Ochs highlight the need to address the potential interaction between contexts in both the home site and target site: the similarities and differences between the two sites, and the target site’s potential effect on the internalisation of educational practice or policy in the ‘home’ site. They also explain that ‘internalisation/indigenisation’ can be considered as a series of four steps: • •

• •

Impact on the existing system/modus operandi: we investigate the intentions and goals of the policymakers of the existing system; Absorption of external features: we investigate the context for the purpose of examining how and the degree to which external features and references have been borrowed; Synthesis: we investigate how the borrowed policy is re-contextualised and integrated into the local context; and Evaluation: we investigate the outcome of policy borrowing so as to determine whether the expectations of borrowing have been realistic.

Analysing the developments of madrasah education using Phillips and Ochs’s framework With reference to Phillips and Ochs’s framework on policy borrowing, the two educational sites or systems for this chapter are the madrasah system in Singapore on the one hand, and the government school system on the other. Government schools in Singapore are secular in the sense that religious education is not allowed in the curriculum. An exception is made for mission schools, which are schools set up by Christian missionaries when Singapore was under the British colonial rule. These mission schools are allowed to retain one chapel session a week for their students; but attendance cannot be made compulsory and students could choose to opt out. As the government schools do not offer religious subjects, they are able to concentrate fully on academic subjects and their students consequently study fewer subjects compared to their counterparts in the madrasahs. Due to the heavier study load and other reasons, madrasah students trail behind their peers in the government schools in the national exams (Tan, 2009, 2011). This has policy implications for Singapore, as we shall elaborate later.

Policy borrowing in madrasah education 199 Phillips and Ochs’s first stage of ‘cross-national attraction’ can be renamed ‘cross-contextual attraction’ since the attraction for our study is not between nations but between educational contexts, i.e., madrasahs and government schools. The two components of ‘cross-contextual attraction’, ‘impulses’ and ‘externalising potential’, are helpful to explain the precondition for and motives of the government to encourage curriculum reforms for the madrasahs in Singapore. In terms of ‘impulses’, a major internal factor is the government’s desire to improve the academic performance and job prospects of madrasah students. At a Malay community event in December 1997, the then Minister for Education expressed his concern that Malay children studying in the madrasahs would not receive the quality education necessary for good jobs, and would not be able to integrate well into the social and economic system (Mukhlis, 1999, 2006; Aljunied and Dayang Istiaisyah, 2005). The government is concerned about the future of madrasah students who do not choose to become religious teachers and leaders, yet lack the minimum academic qualifications to qualify for secular institutions and employment. The government highlighted the high dropout rates in the madrasahs: 71 percent in 1996, 60 percent in 1997 and 65 percent in 1998. Between 50 and 65 percent of each cohort of madrasah students do not make it to Secondary 4 (Tan, 2009). The former Prime Minister noted that if job opportunities and progression were limited, “sooner or later any religion will turn inwards on itself” and this “will make it easier for deviant ideologies to take root” (Goh, 2004). The internal factor is coupled with the external factor of economic competition where the government aspires to prepare Singapore graduates for a globalised and digital age. The government’s desire for schooling as a means for economic progress explains why the government is concerned that children who are not enrolled in national schools, including madrasah students, “are not being equipped with the necessary skills and knowledge to be productive citizens in the knowledge-based economy (KBE)” (MOE, 2000: 5). The ‘impulse’ of the government to improve the academic performance of the madrasah students was supported by the ‘externalising potential’ that refers to aspects of educational policies and practices that can be borrowed. In the case of the madrasah, the reference point is the government schools that are perceived to be the best site to educate Singapore students. It is helpful to refer to Phillips and Ochs’s six foci of attraction to understand how government schools serve as the site for the madrasahs to borrow the policies and practices. First, in terms of the guiding philosophy or ideology of policy, the government sees the function of schools as providing students with a strong foundation for further education and training in a knowledge-based economy (MOE, 2000). This guiding philosophy is reflected in the ambition/goal of the education policy as ensuring that “our children learn a common, basic core of knowledge and skills that would prepare them for employment and further training” and giving “our children a common educational experience which would help build national identity and social cohesion, with multiracialism and meritocracy as the cornerstones of our nation” (MOE, 2000: 7). The strategies for policy implementation, enabling structures that support education and education system, educational processes

200  Charlene Tan And Diwi Binti Abbas (style of teaching and regulatory processes) and educational techniques are all translated into the curriculum of the government schools through citizenship education (known locally as ‘national education’), thinking skills, IT Masterplan, co-curricular activities and moral education (refer to MOE, 2000, for details). The second stage is ‘decision’ that comprises the range of measures taken by the government and other agencies to launch the process of change. Here the government adopts ‘realistic/practical’ measures that are collectively the “common, basic core of knowledge and skills that would prepare them for employment and further training” found in government schools. To impart the desired knowledge, skills and dispositions to all primary school children, the government introduced the Compulsory Education Act in 2003. This act requires all children to complete the mandatory six years of primary education in national secular schools that are under the Ministry of Education (see MOE, 2008 for more details). All children will sit for the PSLE at the end of six years. Parents who fail to admit their children to primary schools shall be subjected to counselling, mediation, fines and, in the extreme case, a jail term. Madrasahs are not national schools but Muslim children attending madrasahs are exempted from the Act (i.e., not required to be enrolled in a national school) only if their madrasah meet the minimum performance benchmarks set by MOE: the average PSLE aggregate scores of Malay students in the two highest-performing academic streams in the six lowest-performing national schools. Madrasahs that meet the PSLE benchmark twice in a three-year period from 2008 can continue to take in Primary 1 pupils (Zakir, 2007; Tan, 2010). For madrasahs that fail to meet the state requirements, their students will be posted to another madrasah that meets the PSLE benchmark, or be transferred to a national school, if they wish. Noting that the Muslim community in Singapore only needs a small number of religious leaders and teachers each year, the government also caps the total enrollment of madrasahs at 400 each year beginning from 2003. Although the Compulsory Education Act did not specifically target madrasah education, its operation means that madrasahs now have to devote more curriculum time to academic subjects, especially English, mathematics and science. By expecting the madrasahs to meet the academic benchmarks set by the government, it is hoped that all madrasah students will complete their primary education and possess the minimum academic standards to choose either the religious or secular path for their secondary education. The third stage in Phillips and Ochs’s framework is ‘implementation’ where a foreign model is adapted based on the contextual factors of the borrower system. As mentioned, the extent of change depends on the adaptability of the specific policy measure as well as the influence of key stakeholders (‘significant actors’) who may facilitate or impede the enactment. In the case of the implementation of the Compulsory Education in Singapore, there is evidence of adaptability of the specific policy measure on the government’s part as it allows the madrasah students to be exempted from the Act after negotiation with the madrasah leaders (for details, see Tan, 2010). There is also a discernible degree of adaptability and support (to varying degrees among the madrasah leaders) for the enforcement of the compulsory education on the part of the madrasah leaders and stakeholders.

Policy borrowing in madrasah education 201 The state showed its support to the madrasah through MUIS with the introduction of the Joint Madrasah System (JMS) in 2008 that is targeted at assisting the madrasahs in the continuous upgrading of their systems (MUIS, 2015). In explaining the JMS, the Minister-in-charge of Muslim Affairs, Dr Yaacob Ibrahim, highlighted the different specialisations of the madrasahs: Madrasah Irsyad offers primary-level schooling and acts as a feeder school to Madrasah Aljunied and Madrasah Al-Arabiah; Madrasah Aljunied offers the ukhrawi (religious) stream, based on the Al Azhar University model, for those who are stronger in Arabic and Islamic Studies; and Madrasah Arabiah offers the academic stream, that provides an Islamic environment for students to pursue national curriculum subjects and eventually join the national post-secondary system (for details, see Ajunied & Albakri, (this volume)). The JMS allows students to be streamed according to their ability, aptitude and interest (MUIS, 2015, also see Steiner, 2011). The support from MUIS came in the form of financial aid for raising the salary of madrasah teachers (Kamaludeen, Pereira and Turner, 2010) and more specialised training for madrasah teachers (MUIS, 2015). Following the implementation of the Act, two of the six madrasahs (Madrasah Al-Junied Al-Islamiah and Madrasah Al-Arabiah Al-Islamiah) decided to stop taking in Primary 1 pupils from 2009. Instead, these two madrasahs concentrated on providing secondary-level education and above for the madrasah students. Since compulsory education only applies to the six years of schooling for Singapore students, this means that these two madrasahs have freed themselves of the pressure of ensuring that their students meet the minimum performance benchmarks for (PSLE). For the other four madrasahs, it appears that they have been working hard to ensure that their students meet the performance requirements. In the PSLE results in 2016, all the four madrasahs met the requirement. Some 97.6 percent (249 out of a total of 255 Singaporean madrasah students) who sat for the PSLE in 2016 were assessed suitable for secondary school (MUIS, 2016). This demonstrated how the madrasahs were flexible and capable to respond to the changing needs and demands expected of them. MUIS as one of the ‘significant actors’ in the execution process of the ‘policy borrowing’ plays a crucial role through, among other ways, a ‘PSLE-ready package’ (MUIS, 2012a). The package was introduced in 2007 to better equip madrasah students to sit for the PSLE examinations. All Primary 5 and Primary 6 madrasah students received funding which are used for PSLE-related workshops and supplemented learning activities. Close to S$1.2 million has been spent on this package (MUIS, 2012a, b). Teacher training for madrasah teachers is also another aspect that received MUIS’s attention and since 2008, MUIS had spent close to $3 million on teacher training. These efforts are testimony to MUIS’s facilitative role in helping the madrasahs meet the PSLE benchmark. The final stage in Phillips and Ochs’s framework is ‘internalisation/indigenisation’ where the policy is contextualised and becomes part of the system of education of the borrower site. For madrasahs, the introduction of Compulsory Education means that madrasahs have to set aside more curriculum time to academic subjects, especially English, mathematics and science at the primary level.

202  Charlene Tan And Diwi Binti Abbas At the same time, the madrasahs, as Islamic institutions, need to stay true to their mission in teaching Arabic and Islamic subjects so as to produce religious teachers and leaders for the Muslim community. Striking a right balance between academic and religious subjects is a priority for the madrasahs in Singapore. While the madrasahs have endeavoured to attain such an equilibrium to varying degrees of success, one madrasah stands out in its drive and achievements. The next section briefly introduces the curriculum reform of this madrasah as evidence of policy borrowing from the government schools.4 A top-performing madrasah at the PSLE, this madrasah has progressively carried out a number of key curricular changes (Tan and Hairon, 2014). First, the madrasah borrowed MOE syllabi for the key academic subjects, namely English, mathematics and science. This change was a direct response to the Compulsory Education Act that requires all madrasahs to meet the minimum PSLE performance benchmarks set by MOE. The madrasah’s alignment with MOE’s syllabi had the general support of the key stakeholders of the madrasah, such as the chairman of the madrasah, school teachers, internal and external curriculum consultants, parents and students. Second, English was chosen as the medium of instruction for all religious subjects (Tarbiyah) from Primary 1 to 6, except for the subject Arabic. This follows the practice in the government schools where English is the first language and medium of instruction. Such a move marks a significant departure from the traditional practice in Islamic schools where Arabic is the medium of instruction, except for non-Arabic language classes such as English and Malay lessons. The rationale is to give primary students a firm foundation in the English language not just for the PSLE and also for their employment later on as well as social interactions with non-Muslims. Third, substantial resources were channeled to improving the students’ learning abilities in general and academic performance in particular. Information and Communication Technology was embraced to encourage students to exercise initiative and shape their own learning. The madrasah increased the curriculum time for academic subjects from the original 50 percent (approximately) to 60 percent. Saturday, remedial and other supplementary classes were conducted to strengthen students’ learning. Students were acquainted with the PSLE exam format through mock exams and tests. Outside specialists were hired to improve the quality of teaching and learning in key academic subjects such as mathematics. The school management also introduced conducive organisational structures to enhance the academic performance of students. These included reducing the non-essential workload of Primary 6 teachers and partnering with parents, such as inviting parents to conduct workshops for other parents. Teachers were also given greater opportunities for professional development through formal and informal courses, to improve their teaching of both academic and non-academic subjects. A unique characteristic of the madrasah that demonstrates internalisation/indigenisation is the practice of shura (mutual consultation). Mutual consultation is a Quranic command5 and is listed with other key virtues such as performing prayers and spending for the sake of God. The Prophet Muhammad himself practised this

Policy borrowing in madrasah education 203 value by consulting his companions in almost all important matters. A positive outcome from mutual consultation is that followers are satisfied that their opinions are sought after and taken into consideration by the leader, and this would initiate unity among them. In borrowing foreign ideas and practices, shura is utilised by the school leaders and teachers of the madrasah in their staff meetings and teacher training sessions for the purpose of building collegiality, improving teaching and promoting learning. Overall, we can see the salient features of policy borrowing in the madrasah, namely cross-contextual attraction, decision, implementation and internalisation/ indigenisation. The enforcement of the Compulsory Act has catalysed the curricular changes in the madrasah in its efforts to empower its students to thrive in a modern, competitive and multi-religious Singapore. There is evidence of the impact of compulsory education on the existing system/modus operandi of the madrasah; absorption of external features and references from the government schools into the madrasah; and synthesis where the requirements of compulsory education (‘foreign policy’) becomes part of the overall strategy in the madrasah context.

A key challenge for the madrasahs in Singapore in internalisation/indigenisation Notwithstanding the flexibility and resourcefulness of the madrasah community for the implementation of compulsory education, madrasahs face a number of challenges in their attempts to reform madrasah education. These include the expectation to meet the PSLE performance benchmarks, the pressure faced by the madrasah students to juggle both religious and academic subjects, the stress faced by madrasah teachers in adhering to the national curriculum, the constant worry of madrasah leaders over limited funds, and concern over inadequate facilities (Mukhlis, 2006; Tan and Hairon, 2011). But this chapter focuses on only one key challenge – whether the madrasah is able to internalise or indigenise the adoption of ‘modern’ knowledge and skills into their curriculum. In other words, the focus is on the contrasting worldviews adopted by the state on the one hand, and the madrasahs on the other (note that there are variations and overlaps in between the two worldviews). The first worldview is a secular and modern perspective subscribed to by the Singapore government. A state assumes a secular character if its ideology, individual laws and policies are formulated without regard to any religious creed (Chee, 2007). The main aim of a secular state, such as Singapore, would be to avoid religiously based social conflict by removing what might be seen as a privileged position by one community in the affairs of the state. Being secular in nature, the government has left much of the religious obligation to the individual concern in the respective religious groups. As noted by Muhammad Haniff, “in practising secularism, the government ensures a non-partisan approach when it comes to religious matters” (Muhammad Haniff, 2007: 14). The pragmatic government of Singapore has constantly conceded that its people are the only available resources. Therefore, it places such high importance on its educational

204  Charlene Tan And Diwi Binti Abbas institutions and recently such high demands are also placed on the shoulders of the madrasahs in Singapore. Public education in Singapore has become an extension of the industrial era, and it aims to provide for the economic prosperity of the nation. The purpose of public education is to provide a qualified and flexible workforce that would excel in the new globalised world. The accommodative stance that the Singapore government had displayed towards the madrasah demonstrated the awkward status of the madrasah within the educational landscape of Singapore. It shows that madrasahs hold an ambiguous place in the official educational fabric of Singapore, fulfilling multiple purposes in providing both worldly and Islamic training for the Singapore Muslim children. The question that concerns the government is whether the madrasahs are willing or able to reshape themselves in such a way that they integrate secular policies and knowledge that are more relevant to issues facing Muslim and non-Muslim societies alike in the rapidly modernising and increasingly globalised world. In contrast to a secular worldview is an Islamic perspective. In a Social Distance Project, Kamaludeen, Pereira and Turner (2010) report that Muslims, while acknowledging the usefulness of a secular education system in facilitating materialistic rewards, felt that such a system was inadequate in inculcating the desired religious and moral values in their children. The madrasah leaders, educators and the Muslim community generally do not subscribe to a secular worldview. Muslims believe that all knowledge comes from God and are received by human beings in two main categories: the rational sciences (al-‘ulum al-‘aqliyyah) or intellectual sciences, and the traditional sciences (al-‘ulum al-naqliyah) or revealed knowledge. The former refers to knowledge that stems from man’s capacity for reason, sense perception and observation; it includes ‘modern’ disciplines such as logic, physics, metaphysics, geometry, arithmetic, medicine, geography, chemistry, biology, music, astronomy and science of civilisation (Alatas, 2006). The second category of knowledge, on the other hand, focuses on knowledge that is obtained via revelation. Notwithstanding the differences between the two kinds of knowledge, most Muslims do not distinguish between ‘religious’ and ‘secular’ knowledge, viewing them instead as integrated rather than mutually exclusive (Douglass and Shaikh, 2004). It is also important to note that the aims and goals of Islamic education go beyond the preoccupations of this world and transcends to the afterlife. Many Muslims see the world and all of its contents as God’s creations. Therefore, Muslims do not view aspects of life such as education or social services as being divorced from God. Secularisation is, in fact, a modern phenomenon and could be traced to the modern Western historical thought. Modern education differs from Islamic education in that it is built on two hypotheses. It does not recognise the supremacy of religion and it seeks to divorce religion from life, or at least some aspects of life. Islamic education differs from secular models in that everything focuses on the Divine element which is always part of every situation. The Islamic viewpoint is antipodal to a secular worldview within which man is the master of his own fortune, free to use his abilities as he pleases, for better or worse (Bleher, 1996). According to this view, a secular education that does not attend to the spiritual

Policy borrowing in madrasah education 205 nature of the learners is partial and fragmented: the secular education model cannot do justice to human beings it serves to educate, because it deals with various aspects of human nature in a fragmented way, ignoring their inter-relationships and denying the Divine origin in them all (ibid). The importance of the Divine in Muslims’ lives, even in an educational setting, explains the reasons behind the number of Malay Muslim students who had opted out of national schools and enrolled in the madrasah system. Zainah’s (1998) findings based on the interview on the parents who enrolled their children in the madrasah showed that almost half of the parents saw the need to equip their children with religious values in the face of modernisation. The parents cited madrasah culture as having the potential to prevent the children being negatively influenced by materialistic desires and liberal social values associated with modernisation. How about a ‘modern’ worldview? On one end of the spectrum are Islamic schools that are wary of ‘modern’ (read ‘Western’) knowledge and favour Islamic studies instead, such as some Deobandi madrasahs that adhere faithfully to the dars-i-nizami curriculum. Although the dars-i-nizami curriculum theoretically comprises traditional religious sciences (such as jurisprudence and prophetic sayings) and rational sciences (such as philosophy, grammar and logic), many Indian Deobandi madrasahs have resultantly emphasised the former and neglected the latter (Geaves, 2008). On the other end of the spectrum, however, lie Islamic schools that adopt the second approach by going beyond Western technology to embrace ‘modern’ subjects such as the sciences and humanities while situating the teaching and learning within an Islamic context (Tan, 2011; Tan and Diwi, 2009). An example is the madrasah discussed earlier in this chapter that carried out a series of curriculum reform. Overall, there is a need for both the state and the madrasahs to be cognisant of the influential role played by one’s view of knowledge. The conception and assumptions of knowledge held by the key stakeholders of a madrasah have a direct impact on the success of internalisation/ indigenization, where the policy is contextualised and becomes part of the system of education of the borrower. Another factor that may be overlooked by many is the fact that the objectives, epistemologies and theoretical underpinnings of ‘modern subjects’ such as the sciences and humanities that are taught in universities and schools today differ fundamentally from those sciences taught at madrasahs from the 11th century (Makdisi, 1981). As explained by Wan Mohd Nor (1998), modern western knowledge is infused with western secular values and is inappropriate for Muslims because of its secular associations. [. . .] [I]n the minds of good Muslims . . . every bit of information [or] idea from any source whatsoever, can be Islamised or put in its right and proper place within the Islamic vision of truth and reality. (p. 309) The madrasahs with their limited budget and constraints have to make do with using the curriculum and textbooks produced from the national schools. It

206  Charlene Tan And Diwi Binti Abbas would be ideal if the madrasahs were given more support, in collaboration with MUIS, to review the textbooks so as to refine and align them with the Islamic worldview, particularly on the study of science for the madrasah students. This will ensure that the teaching materials are internalised/indigenised to suit the needs of the madrasah community.

Conclusion In rethinking madrasah education, efforts at reform will ultimately have to move beyond superficial ‘how to’ reforms such as including additional subjects, providing information and technological modernisation. Fresh approaches and options have to be identified that take into account the changed circumstances and realities in which Muslims find themselves, and the implications these changes have for the upbringing of their young. Above all, it is essential for Muslims to seek educational principles within the informing spirit of the Islamic vision itself that can break the impasse created by the polarising tendencies of Islamists and secularists, and promote creative ways of conceiving education in Muslim societies in the 21st century (Thobani, 2007; Tan and Azhar, 2017). Effective and sustainable reform must critically engage all stakeholders’ perspectives, including those of students, teachers, administrators and parents on theological issues, thereby embracing pluralism in the dialogues.

Notes 1 The focus of this chapter is on full-time madrasahs that offer both religious and academic education to full-time students. For further reading on part-time madrasahs such as mosque madrasah and weekend madrasahs, see Batri, 2012; Rustham, Mamat and Rashid, 2012. 2 This claim has been disputed by others. For example, some claim that the first madrasah was Madrasah Al-Sibyan that was established earlier in 1901 by Ustaz Haji Muhammad bin Said, a religious teacher from Indonesia (Abdul Samad, 1999; Chee, 2006). Yet another suggestion was Madrasah Al-Iqbal, which was established at the beginning of the 20th century by a well-known Islamic reformist, Syed Sheikh Al-Hadi and his Kaum Muda (Young Group) (Abu Bakar, 1991). 3 The six madrasahs are full-time educational institutions. Besides full-time madrasahs, there are currently 27 part-time mosque madrasah in Singapore that provide part-time basic Islamic education to students who attend government schools. 4 The study by Tan and Hairon (2014) examines the reform efforts of one madrasah in Singapore. The case study, which lasted from November 2007 to March 2011, employed primarily qualitative data collection protocols which included field notes; content analyses of policy documents, reports and newspaper articles; and individual and focus group interviews. Interviews were conducted with key community members of the madrasah, which included the chairman of the madrasah, an external curriculum consultant, three internal curriculum development officers, one head of department and eight teachers, 24 parents of the graduating students, and 50 Primary 6 graduating students. For a fuller discussion, see Tan and Hairon, 2014. 5 Quran: Al-Shura, 42: 38: “Those who hearken to their Lord, and establish regular Prayer; who (conduct) their affairs by mutual Consultation who spend out of what We bestow on them for Sustenance”.

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208  Charlene Tan And Diwi Binti Abbas Muhammad Haniff, H. (2007). Contextualising Political Islam for Minority Muslims. Singapore: S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies. MUIS. (2009). Our Madrasah. Retrieved January 7, 2011, from www.muis.gov.sg/ cms/services/ Madrasahs.aspx?id=206 MUIS. (2012a). 2012 primary school learning examinations (PSLE) – performance of madrasah students. [media release]. Retrieved October 27, 2014, from www. muis.gov.sg/cms/uploadedFiles/ MuisGovSG/News_Events/Press_Releases/ PSLE%202012%20Press%20Release%20(Final).pdf MUIS. (2012b). MUIS annual report 2012. Retrieved from www.muis.gov.sg/ cms/ uploadedFiles/MuisGovSG/About_MuisGovSG/Annual_Reports/MUIS%20 AR12.pdf MUIS. (2015). JMS journey. Retrieved October 27, 2014, from www.danamadrasah. sg/jms-journey.html MUIS. (2016). 2016 Primary School Leaving Examinations (PSLE) performance of madrasah students. Media release on November 24, 2016. Retrieved February 13, 2017, from www.muis.gov.sg/documents/Media%20Release%20%20Madrasah %20Performance%20in%20PSLE%202016%20(for%20website).pdf Mukhlis, A. B. (1999). Islamic Religious Schools in Singapore: Recent Trends and Issues. Singapore: National University of Singapore, Department of Malay Studies. Mukhlis, A. B. (2006). Between state interests and citizen rights: Whither the madrasah? In A. R. Noor Aisha and A. E. Lai (Eds.), Secularism and Spirituality: Seeking Integrated Knowledge and Success in Madrasah Education in Singapore (pp. 29–57). Singapore: Marshall Cavendish. Noor Aisha, A. R. (2006). The aims of madrasah education in Singapore: Problems and perceptions. In A. R. Noor Aisha and A. E. Lai (Eds.), Secularism and Spirituality: Seeking Integrated Knowledge and Success in Madrasah Education in Singapore (pp. 58–92). Singapore: Marshall Cavendish. Phillips, D., and Ochs, K. (2003). Processes of policy borrowing in education: Some explanatory and analytical devices. Comparative Education, 39(4), 451–461. Phillips, D., and Ochs, K. (2004). Policy borrowing: Some methodological challenges in comparative education. British Educational Research Journal, 30(6), 773–784. Rustham, N., Mamat, A. and Rashid, A. A. (2012). Teaching methodologies in a weekend madrasah: A study at Jamiyah Education Centre, Singapore. International Journal of Arts and Commerce, 1(2), 148–169. Sa’eda, B. (2009). The evolution of madrasah school system in Singapore: With special emphasis on its curriculum development. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, Nanyang Technological University, Singapore. Steiner, K. (2011). Madrasah in Singapore: Tradition and modernity in religious education. Intellectual Discourse, 19(1), 41–70. Tan, C. (2007). Islam and citizenship education in Singapore: Challenges and implications. Education, Citizenship and Social Justice, 2(1), 23–39. Tan, C. (2009). The reform agenda for madrasah education in Singapore. Diaspora, Indigenous, and Minority Education, 3(2), 67–80. Tan, C. (2010). Contesting reform: Bernstein’s pedagogic device and madrasah education in Singapore. Journal of Curriculum Studies, 42(2), 165–182. Tan, C. (2011). Where tradition and ‘modern’ knowledge meet: Exploring two Islamic schools in Singapore and Britain. Intercultural Education, 22(1), 55–68. Tan, C., and Azhar, I. (2017). Humanism, Islamic education and Confucian education. Religious Education, 112(4), 394–406.

Policy borrowing in madrasah education 209 Tan, C., and Diwi, B. A. (2009). The ‘Teach Less, Learn More’ initiative in Singapore: New pedagogies for Islamic religious schools? KEDI Journal of Education Policy, 6(1), 25–39. Tan, C., and Hairon, S. (2011). Negotiating the school curriculum for the Malay Muslims in Singapore. In Z. Bekerman and T. Geisen (Eds.), International Handbook Migration, Minorities, and Education (pp. 543–558). Dordrecht, The Netherlands: Springer. Tan, C., and Hairon, S. (2014). Reforming madrasa curriculum in an era of globalisation: The Singapore case. In C. Tan (Ed.), Reforms in Islamic Education: International Perspectives (pp. 157–175). London: Bloomsbury. Thobani, S. (2007). The dilemma of Islam as a school knowledge in Muslim education. Asia Pacific Journal of Education, 27(1), 11–25. Wan Mohd Nor, W. D. (1998). The Educational Philosophy and Practice of Syed Muhammad Naquib Al-Attas. Kuala Lumpur: International Institute of Islamic Thought and Civilisation (ISTAC). Zainah, A. (1998). The goals of madrasah educational system in Singapore: Obstacles and recommendations. Unpublished Honours thesis, National University of Singapore. Zakir, H. (2007, October 27). New madrasah system to address two key concerns. The Straits Times, H6.

12 Curriculum reform in the Indonesian madrasah The position of madrasah in the post-independence education system Raihani Introduction Islamic education in Indonesia developed following the development of Islam in the country. When Islamic preachers from the Indian and Arabian subcontinents arrived in the seventh century (Hasbullah, 1995), they established mosques or prayer places for them to worship and spread the Islamic teachings. Halaqah (circles of religious learning) were established in mosques following the great tradition of knowledge transmission of the Prophet Muhammad, his companions and followers. This practice of teaching continued, and when the number of students from areas far from the mosques increased, pondok (student accommodation) were built around the mosques. This system was called surau in West Sumatra, dayah in Aceh, langgar in Kalimantan and pesantren in Java. This type of institution was then considered as one of the first Islamic educational institutions in Indonesia, which has continued to exist to date (Abdullah, 1986), but pesantren seems to be a name that is now popularly and nationally used. Madrasah, often translated as Islamic day school, is another Islamic educational institution in Indonesia. It is a relatively new institution introduced as a response to the spread of the Dutch schooling system in the Indonesian community (Azra, 2014). Its introduction occurred in the context of the developing Islamic movement in the 20th century, i.e., the rise of kaum muda (group of young Muslim scholars) opposing kaum tua (older scholars) (Azra, 1999). According to Azra (1999), surau, a place to learn and practice Sufism became the object of fierce criticism of kaum muda after their return from Saudi Arabia, bringing with them the Wahhabi teachings which emphasised the return to the perceived original and true Islam based on the Qur’an and the Prophet’s traditions. Bloody conflicts escalated and claimed deaths including Islamic scholars (ulama) from both sides. Surau, as a traditional institution, gradually demised, and Islamic schools as a manifestation of the Islamic reform transnationally brought from the Middle East began to develop. Currently, madrasahs, which follow certain requirements and regulations set up particularly by the Ministry of Religion (MoR), are described as more modern than pesantren in terms of their curriculum, structure and teaching approach, even though there are now madrasahs established in the pesantren

Curriculum reform in Indonesian madrasah 211 compound to cater to students who want both pesantren-based Islamic education and the government curricula. In this context, it is sometimes difficult to distinguish between a madrasah and a pesantren particularly in terms of management and location. Modern-day madrasahs, like other schools, consist of three schooling levels, i.e., elementary (madrasah ibtidaiyah), junior secondary (madrasah tsanawiyah) and senior secondary (madrasah ‘aliyah) (Mastuhu, 1994). In this chapter, I focus on the madrasah, excluding pesantren, as representing an analytical case of the curriculum of Islamic education in Indonesia after its independence (1945 onwards). Curriculum is the core of an educational establishment by which educational objectives and orientation are institutionalised, school cultures are created, learning and teaching are planned and enacted, and more importantly the nation’s vision is manifested (Ornstein and Hunkins, 1998; Parkay, Hass, and Anctil, 2010). In this chapter, the concept of curriculum encompasses the load of subjects taught in the madrasah and developed in a particular context of change, which indicates efforts done by the government and the Muslim community and/or scholars to reform this Islamic institution. As discussed later, the load of subjects with the deliberate inclusion of Islamic and/or secular knowledge can be seen as a playing field for Muslims and secular nationalists to colour the face of Indonesian Islamic education. Thus, what is meant by curriculum reform here are changes to the madrasah’s curriculum orientation and content as a result of such ongoing political and ideological contestations. Historically, the place of the madrasah in the Indonesian education system has been continuously contested. Initially, it was seen incompatible with the modernisation process of the country after its independence in 1945. This contestation occurred despite the real and significant roles that madrasahs had played particularly in providing Indonesian citizens with Islamic education. The incompatibility of the madrasah with modernity was often seen from its curriculum, which was characterised by heavy, if not full, classical Islamic and Arabic subjects and their traditional approaches to teaching and learning (Steenbrink, 1994). Currently, madrasahs are positioned as equal to the general schools1 in the education system, even though there remain some problems and challenges. The ‘equal position’ of madrasah was gained partly through curriculum changes, improvements and compromises. The process of such changes, I argue, cannot be seen as mere efforts in modernising madrasah education; rather it has been influenced and driven by several socio-political factors including the historical conflict between the Islamist and the secular nationalist groups, the structural dichotomy of secular and religious education and social changes and demands.

The dichotomy and integration of Indonesian education2 Education in Indonesia is characterised by a structural dichotomy in the form of two schooling systems. One is the general schools which are administered by the Ministry of Education and Culture (MoEC) and the other the Islamic schools which are under the administration of the Ministry of Religion (MoR). Karel Steenbrink (1994) opines that this structural dichotomy is rooted in the failure of

212  Raihani the Dutch colonial government to accommodate the Islamic education sector in the public education which the government introduced in 1906 through the system of sekolah desa (village schools). The government was reluctant to support the Islamic education system then, i.e., pesantren, which had long been established by the Islamic community, as politically, it did not want to be seen as intervening in the Islamic affairs of the community (Steenbrink, 1994: 6). Maksum (1999), however, speculates that the main reason for the Dutch government’s hesitance to integrate Islamic education was the fear that this education could become a basis for anti-colonialism. Another reason, according to Steenbrink (1994), was that the pesantren system was considered to be heavily characterised by traditional pedagogy, i.e., rote learning of Arabic scripts. Since then, Islamic education became obscured from the public eye and independently developed its own system. The dichotomy of structure continued into the independence era of the Republic of Indonesia. The government established the MoEC in 1945 with the primary role of managing the national education excluding Islamic schools. In 1946, to accommodate Muslim demands that the government support the implementation of aspects of the shari’ah, the Old Order government3 established the MoR (Boland, 1982; Effendy, 1998). This Ministry was established to manage Islamic affairs including Islamic marriage, mosques, pilgrimage, Islamic courts and high courts. In education, the MoR was authorised to take over the administration of religious classes in the schools from the MoEC and given the responsibility to administer the Islamic education sector (including both religious and secular curricula of the madrasahs) and to establish the School for Religious Teachers (Sekolah Guru Agama). The MoR has since become a venue for Muslims to accommodate their Islamic aspirations and interests after their lost in the ‘fight’ for an Islamic state against the nationalists. By establishing the MoR and keeping Islamic education under its authority, the government maintained the structural dualism of the national education system. However, as Mujiburrahman (2006) explains, there were several attempts to unify the Islamic education sector with the general schools under the MoEC. During the Old Order, in the Eight Year Development Plan (1961–69), there was a proposal by the government to the Provisional People’s Consultative Assembly (MPRS) to transfer the madrasah administration to the MoEC but the MPRS decided that this sector should remain with the MoR. During the New Order, however, through the presidential decree of No.34 in 1972 followed by the presidential instruction of No.15 in 1974, the government moved to place all education matters under the control of the MoEC. Although there was no specific mention of madrasahs and other Islamic educational institutions, what was implied by these regulations was clear – that such Islamic institutions should be placed under the MoEC. In line with this, in the late 1970s, Pranarka and Prijono of the Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) recommended a similar idea in order to achieve more effectively the aim of national education. Supporting this unification idea, in 1988, the new MoEC Minister, Fuad Hassan, proposed a bill of education to Parliament which did not make any mention of madrasahs and the authority of MoR in the affairs of education.

Curriculum reform in Indonesian madrasah 213 The unification attempts, however, did not succeed as the Muslim leaders responded negatively to the idea of integrating the madrasahs into the administration of the MoEC. As Mujiburrahman (2006, p. 225) states: “For Rasjidi [the first Minister for Religion], the unification would not only reduce the authority of the Department of Religion but also would completely secularise Islamic schools.” So, giving up the Islamic education sector to the MoEC would mean another loss for Muslims to the nationalists. Moreover, the idea of placing Islamic education under the MoEC came from the nationalists and Christian figures, which made Muslim leaders more suspicious of the unification efforts. As such, during the Old Order, the Islamic education sector remained autonomous under the MoR (Maksum, 1999, p. 132). Attempts at integrating madrasahs into the national education system took on a new life with the enactment of the Education Laws of 1989 and 2003. While the Law of 1989 implicitly included madrasah as a type of “pendidikan keagamaan” (religious education) and part of the national education system, the Law of 2003 under the Reform Era government made clear the equal position of madrasahs and the general schools. The mention of ‘sekolah’ (school) was always followed by the mention of ‘madrasah’ indicating acceptance of these two institutions in the national education system (Departemen Pendidikan Nasional, 2003). Thus, instead of placing madrasahs under the MoEC, the new attempt was focused on making madrasahs equal to the general schools within a unified system of national education in terms of funding, secular curriculum, graduate qualification and competencies and management. Under this system, the MoR remained as the authority that managed the Islamic education sector. Madrasahs thus became an integral part of the Indonesian education system equal to the general schools. Reflecting on the attempts to unify general and Islamic education in Indonesia during the New and Old Orders, Steenbrink (1994, p. 7) rightly describes: “General education system in Indonesia did not emerge from the adoption of the existing traditional Islamic education. Conversely, the Islamic education system as can be seen now will gradually adapt [integrate] into the general system.” His description is correct as the Islamic education sector gave up a large portion of its interests when it adapted to the general education system. The madrasah has lost some of its characteristics as an Islamic education institution as it gradually transformed into a general school– type institution. To sum up, even as the madrasahs were ‘integrated’ into the national system, it remained under the MoR’s administration, which means that the structural dualism or dichotomy of the national education system was maintained, i.e., one under the MoEC and the other under the MoR.

Madrasah curriculum reforms The integration of the madrasahs into the national system has to be seen as a compromise on the part of the madrasahs. This section will explain in more detail the gradual reforms in the madrasah curriculum in the post-independence era and how the initial madrasah religious identities have become less important.

214  Raihani

Madrasah curriculum in the Old Order era (1945–66) As mentioned earlier, not long after the independence of the Republic of Indonesia, the MoR was established to cater to the interests and needs of the Muslims and to manage their affairs, one of which was Islamic education. Prior to this, Islamic education, which was mostly represented by pesantren and the traditional madrasahs, was managed by Muslim groups and/or individuals (Maksum, 1999). These educational institutions had spread sporadically without valid data on their numbers. There was a lack of attention given to pesantren and the madrasahs by the Old Order government as it preferred the centralised secular schooling system over the Islamic one. As in the colonial era, the madrasahs were ignored by the government. The madrasah curriculum generally consisted of religious subjects to cater to mostly Muslims who could not afford, or did not want, to send their children to secular schools. Maksum (1999) suggests that the madrasah curriculum in the early part of this era was just a continuation of what was in the pre-independence period. He concludes that there were three forms of madrasah in this period, i.e., madrasahs with a heavy load of Islamic teachings and only a few secular subjects, those with a relatively balanced Islamic and secular teachings and those with a heavy load of secular subjects as in the former Dutch schools. These various types of madrasah curriculum were influenced by the fact that the majority of madrasahs were private and only a few were state-managed. As most madrasahs were privately managed by Islamic organisations or individuals, there were various types of madrasahs with different curriculum orientation. In order to unify these madrasahs, in 1950, the Minister for MoR, Wahid Hasyim, introduced a policy of madrasah compulsory education or Madrasah Wajib Belajar (MWB) (Maksum, 1999). This policy was aligned with the Basic Education Law 1950 which states that learning in religious schools (madrasah) administered by the MoR is considered as fulfilling compulsory education. The madrasah curriculum was, therefore, designed to provide students with religious instruction, the secular/general subjects and skills development, and would be completed in eight years. The MWB, however, failed to flourish because of the lack of teachers, facilities and the enthusiasm of the madrasahs’ community (Maksum, 1999). Later, the MoR initiated the establishment of madrasahs which in structure were similar to the general schools, i.e., primary (ibitidaiyah) for six years, junior secondary (first tsanawiyah) for four years and senior secondary (second tsanawiyah) for four years. The curriculum of these madrasahs was developed with 30 percent religious instruction and the rest general subjects. Besides replacing the previous failing policy of MWB, the inception of these madrasahs was to respond to community demands for Islamic schools that produced citizens who possessed not only religious knowledge but secular knowledge as well (Ramayulis, 2012). Many were of the view that madrasah graduates contributed less significantly to the development of the new country due to their training. It is pertinent to add here that what is quite remarkable about the Old Order in terms of Islamic education was the introduction of an institution called Religious

Curriculum reform in Indonesian madrasah 215 Teacher Education (Pendidikan Guru Agama or PGA) by MoR (Maksum, 1999; Ramayulis, 2012). The move was important for the development of Islamic education as PGA produced Islamic religious teachers for both the madrasahs and the schools. In the madrasahs, PGA graduates were expected to teach Islamic religious subjects such as Islamic faith, Islamic jurisprudence, Islamic history and so forth, whilst in schools they were assigned to teach Islamic religion as a subject which, in the Old Order era and according to the Decree of the People Assembly in 1960, was compulsory for students (Ramayulis, 2012). The establishment of this Islamic religious teacher training institution, however, was limited to several big cities only.

Madrasah curriculum in the New Order era (1966–98) Madrasahs in the Old Order developed with little support from the new government, which prioritised general education. The madrasah curriculum was seen as incapable of providing its graduates with the same quality of education as their counterparts in the general schools. This further affirmed the belief within the community that madrasahs were only second-class institutions with traditional approaches to teaching and learning, heavy religious instruction and ineffective management. During the New Order, efforts to reform the madrasahs through the curriculum were more seriously and successfully made. In 1975, the New Order government issued a three-minister joint decree (Surat Keputusan Bersama Tiga Menteri) involving the Ministers for Education and Culture, Religion and Interior, in an attempt to improve the quality of the madrasahs and the national education as a whole (Zuhdi, 2005). With this decree, the madrasahs began to be considered a formal education system equal to the general school system and as part of the national education system. This decree had curricular ramifications for the madrasahs. In 1976, MoR issued a ministerial decision to adopt and standardise a new madrasah curriculum comprising 30 percent religious subjects and 70 percent secular subjects. The secular subjects were the same as the general schools’, which were developed by the MoEC. Zuhdi (2005) argues that this decree has been pivotal in empowering madrasah students to become effective participants in society just like students in the general schools. In a more detailed description, this decree produced a positive impact on the madrasahs: a madrasah certificate is equally valued as a school certificate, madrasah graduates may continue on to higher education in the general schools and madrasah students may transfer to the general schools at the same level (Maksum, 1999; Ramayulis, 2012, Zuhdi, 2005). The madrasah curriculum, after the 1975 decree, comprised, among others, Islamic faith/ethics, Islamic laws, Islamic history, Qur’an and Hadith and Arabic (Zuhdi, 2005). These subjects were classified as Islamic subjects and formed 30 percent of the whole madrasah curriculum. The balance of 70 percent consisted of Pancasila Moral Education, Indonesian language, social sciences, natural sciences, Indonesian history, mathematics, art education, physical and health

216  Raihani education and skills development. All these subjects were designed for both the madrasahs and the schools at the elementary level. For the secondary madrasah curriculum, general subjects were added that included English and civic education. With the proportion of 30 percent and 70 percent for religious and general subjects respectively, it does not mean that the religious instruction was reduced to 30 percent of what it used to be. The religious curriculum remained roughly the same as before, but it now formed only 30 percent of the whole madrasah curriculum. This means that madrasah students had more hours to study compared to general school students because of the religious subjects. Muslim students in school learned only one compulsory religious subject, i.e., Islamic religion. Different from the Old Order madrasah levels, the madrasahs after 1975 were structured into ibtidaiyah (primary) for six years, tsanawiyah (junior secondary) for three years and ‘aliyah (senior secondary) for three years. This new system of educational levels is the same as that of the general schools. To support the 1975 decree, different policies throughout the period of 1975– 88 were issued (Hasbullah, 1995; Ramayulis, 2012). The policies brought about curriculum changes in the madrasah following changes in the general school curriculum. For example, there were notable curriculum changes in 1976 (implemented in 1978) and in 1984. These affected both the madrasahs and the schools equally. Another example was the introduction of the active learning approach (Cara Belajar Siswa Aktif) in the 1980s. This teaching and learning strategy was equally promoted in the madrasahs and the schools through various teacher education and training. Through such policies and programmes, madrasah education started to become an equal, alternative option for Indonesian Muslims to send their children to. Yet, the impression of madrasahs as a second-class educational institution remained intact partly due to the higher proportion of private madrasahs which usually cater to rural and poor Islamic communities and which suffer from bad management, poor facilities and low achievement rate (Parker and Raihani, 2011). According to statistics (Kementerian Agama RI, 2011; Kementerian Pendidikan dan Kebudayaan, 2012), the whole madrasah population accommodated more than 43 percent of poor students. Also, about 30 percent of madrasahs were not accredited, which was higher than the national proportion of non-accredited schools and madrasahs, i.e., 20 percent. The 1975 decree was seen as an effort to bring the madrasahs into the fold of the national education system. There was a positive impact on madrasah education and its graduates from this integration including the equal status of its graduates. Fadjar (1999) notes that this integration has ramifications for the madrasahs including the curriculum changes as mentioned above. They include all the academic requirements for students to be accepted in the madrasahs, the standardisation of learning programmes and the implementation of the national examination. As a result, students from the madrasahs can be accepted in the general schools and vice-versa. The integration also implies that both the madrasahs and the schools receive equal support from the government. However, madrasah education suffered from its inability to groom Islamic scholars (ulama) who possess deep Islamic knowledge, particularly at a time when new social problems

Curriculum reform in Indonesian madrasah 217 emerged and needed appropriate responses. It was the pesantren which served as the major Islamic institution that provided education for future Islamic scholars after the madrasahs became part of the national system through the Education Law of 1989. Yet, the pesantren was not the favourite option for producing modern Islamic scholars given its traditional approaches to curriculum and instruction. Therefore, in 1988, the MoR Minister, Munawir Syadzali, introduced a new type of madrasah at the aliyah level, initially in five cities: Jember, Padang, Ciamis, Makassar and Solo. Named as Madrasah Aliyah Pendidikan Khusus (MAPK or Special Senior Secondary Islamic School) and then Madrasah Aliyah Keagamaan (MAK or Religious Senior Secondary Islamic School), these madrasahs were later established in many more areas of Indonesia due to their promising educational programmes (Ramayulis, 2012). The establishment of these madrasahs was a clear message that the regular madrasahs at the aliyah level have failed to produce graduates with strong Islamic credentials. The curriculum of MAPK was designed specifically to fulfill the above purpose. It contained 70 percent religious instruction and only 30 percent general subjects with Arabic and English as the main skills. These madrasahs adopted the pesantren system in which students were required to live in a dormitory to enable them to attend morning, afternoon and evening lessons. Selected from the top-performing students at the madrasah tsanawiyah level, they learned religious knowledge from morning to evening every day. With such a curriculum structure, the MAPK graduates were able to further their education in the faculties of the State Institute for Islamic Studies (IAIN) or Islamic universities in the Middle East. At this tertiary level, they demonstrated high performance and their Arabic and English abilities were outstanding. Unfortunately, these madrasahs did not receive sufficient support from the government and they closed in the 2000s. The reason for this decision remains unclear.

Madrasah curriculum in the Reform era (1998–now) Following 1998, there was a dramatic change in Indonesian education particularly in terms of education management, which had some consequences for school curriculum (Bandur, 2008). Consistent with global trends then, decentralisation of education became the main policy of the government when it issued the Decentralisation Law in 1999. The previously centralised education system was now changed into a system in which a significant amount of power and authority was invested in provinces and districts. Schools became more autonomous institutions. The madrasahs, however, remained centralised since they were under the administration of the MoR – one of three ministries which maintained the centralisation of authority. The other two were Finance and Defence (Aspinall and Fealy, 2003). In terms of curriculum reform, however, there was almost no difference between schools and madrasahs. This is to say that curriculum reforms that occurred in this post-1998 Reform era were inclusive and indiscriminate. This inclusive curriculum reform was founded on the Education Law of 2003 that explicitly positioned madrasahs and schools equally in the national education

218  Raihani system (Kementrian Pendidikan Nasional, 2003). Consequently, all curriculum development activities were centralised in the MoEC through the Center for Curriculum Development, but as explained later, madrasahs insisted on using MoR-developed curriculum for religious subjects. The first curriculum reform during this period was the introduction of the 2006 curriculum or the so-called Kurikulum Tingkat Satuan Pendidikan (KTSP or school-based curriculum) (Raihani, 2007; Yamin, 2007). This curriculum, following the spirit of the decentralisation of education, was introduced to provide more school-based curriculum development and contextual, competency-based and student-centred approaches to teaching. Teachers were given more freedom to decide on subject curricula and classroom strategies. The central government continued to play a role in determining the general curriculum objectives and competencies for students to achieve and how schools assess students’ learning progress and achievement. The national examination was mandated at the end of every schooling level, which was designed to establish the extent the curriculum’s general competencies were achieved by students across the country. The introduction of students’ competencies in the new curriculum seemed to be one of its main characteristics. Previously, the curriculum was developed based on the Tylerian model (Tyler, 1949), which placed educational objectives as the main focus. The terms popularly used in the previous curriculum to describe students’ learning targets and outcomes were “general instructional aims” and “specific instructional objectives” (Tujuan Instruksional Umum dan Khusus, or TIU & TIK). TIU was the first and more generic set of learning objectives students should achieve in a particular unit of lesson, while TIK was a breakdown of the TIU, and hence, more specific. Often, these objectives were vague or abstract to the teachers such that it was difficult for them to interprete and use them to assess their students’ learning progress. The 2006 curriculum, however, emphasised the importance of competencies which were defined as “keterampilan, sikap, dan nilai-nilai yang diwujudkan dalam kebiasaan berfikir dan bertindak” (Departemen Pendidikan Nasional, 2007: 18) meaning “skills, attitudes, and values manifested in habitual thinking and actions”. Every competency that the students master as a result of the educational process should be observable and measurable so that its achievement can be clearly recognised. Other than the emphasis on competency, many praised this curriculum for its compatibility with the decentralisation efforts of education as teachers gained more autonomy and stronger authority in their own areas (Yamin, 2007). Others valued the clear set of competencies determined for students in every learning area and every subject. In 2013, however, the government introduced a new curriculum to replace the 2006 version without proper evaluation of the latter. From the government’s perspective, the 2013 curriculum was oriented to develop character education in students and designed to assess student learning more authentically. However, character education was already one that the Education Law of 2003 mandated on every school and madrasah. As such, the reasons for the change were challenged as its design was no different from the former curriculum. Based on my observation, one of the obvious differences

Curriculum reform in Indonesian madrasah 219 was the introduction of a thematic approach to teaching at the elementary level. Another was that teachers’ freedom and authority in the 2013 curriculum were reduced to a level that they would become mere implementers of the centrally designed curriculum. The 2013 curriculum began to be implemented just prior to the national election. A series of seminars and workshops were conducted in every province to explain the developers’ perspectives to various stakeholders including lecturers, teachers, principals, education policy makers and community. These sessions required certain budgets to be allocated. Although it is always hard to prove that there is corruption in such activities, money-oriented projects are quite common in Indonesian bureaucratic culture as a means for government officers to earn additional income. As such, it was hard not to associate such programmes with political and economic interests. The initial plan to trial the curriculum only in selected schools was abandoned and instead it was implemented in every school including the madrasahs no matter whether the schools were prepared or otherwise. This indiscriminate implementation led to “chaos” and confusion in schools, and among teachers and parents (Rabu, 2014). Many school principals and teachers did not even understand the concept of the curriculum and how to implement it despite the massive efforts at education and training. Teachers particularly were confused as there were many administrative papers to deal with, and they were in a panic about the lack of appropriate handbooks for the subjects they taught. Parents were required to buy new books for their children but the books were not available in the market. Considering the poor conceptualisation of the curriculum and its messy implementation, the new government at the end of 2013 issued a decree to stop the K13 implementation and to return to the initial plan to trial it in selected schools (Sarnia, 2014). What became of the madrasahs in the context of such curriculum reforms in the post-1998 Reform era? As indicated earlier, since the enactment of the Education Law of 2003, the madrasahs were placed on equal terms as the general schools. Therefore, every policy on school education also affected the madrasahs with the exception of the madrasahs’ administrative policies and affairs (including the Islamic religious curriculum), which remained under the jurisdiction of MoR. This does not mean, however, that there was little difference left between the madrasahs and the schools. The administrative differences were found to have influenced the madrasahs greatly. First, as explained previously, the decentralisation policy did not include MoR in the package, which means that the institutions within the MoR’s authority, including the madrasahs, remained centrally managed. As mandated by the regulation, these institutions could not be budgeted by the local government, whilst general schools were well placed as local institutions to receive regular budget and funds from the local government. Underfunded, the madrasahs, particularly the private ones, found it hard to develop equally as the schools (Parker and Raihani, 2009). Second, as a consequence, it was difficult for the madrasahs to successfully implement the educational policies including the curriculum. Based on my observation of many madrasahs across Indonesia, many of which were privately run, they have been struggling to keep up to date

220  Raihani with the national curriculum and instructional policies and strategies due to lack of facilities, infrastructure and human resources. Another obvious difference is in the area of curriculum. Madrasahs prescribe more religious subjects than schools do (Kementrian Pendidikan Nasional, 2006). Like the previous curriculum, the additional subjects similarly include Islamic theology and ethics, the Qur’an and the Prophet’s traditions, Islamic jurisprudence and Islamic history (see Table 12.1 for a sample of madrasah curriculum). A compulsory addition at every schooling level is Arabic. Despite the fact that the Education Law of 2003 applied equally to madrasahs and schools, the MoR and the madrasah community rejected the idea of madrasahs offering only one religious subject like the schools, i.e., Pendidikan Agama Islam (Islamic Religious Education). An allocation of two to four learning hours per week was not considered sufficient to cover the very broad four areas of Islamic religious knowledge. Another consideration to reject the idea of offering only one Islamic religious subject was the need to maintain the primary characteristic of madrasahs as an Islamic educational institution which has a heavier content of Islamic curricula than general schools. Therefore, the Islamic religious curriculum as developed and published by the MoEC was not implemented in the madrasahs, even though it was explicitly stated that the curriculum was developed for both types of educational institutions. Other subject curricula, however, remained the same. To provide more insight into the Islamic subjects in the madrasahs, I outline briefly what is contained in each of the subjects (Departemen Agama RI, 2008). In Al-Qur’an and Hadith, students learn to read, memorise and understand

Table 12.1 Comparative table of madrasah tsanawiyah curriculum in 1989 and 2013 1989 Curriculum (learning hours per week)

2013 Curriculum (learning hours per week)

 1. Al-Qur’an and Hadith (1)   2. Islamic Faith and Ethics (2)   3. Islamic Jurisprudence (2)   4. History of Islamic Civilisation (1)  5. Arabic (3)   6. Pancasila and Civic Education (2)  7. Indonesian (6)  8. Mathematics (6)   9. Natural Sciences (6) 10. Social Sciences (6) 11. Hand Skills and Arts (2) 12. Physical and Health Education (2) 13. English (4) 14. Local Content Curriculum (2)

 1. Al-Qur’an and Hadith (2)   2. Islamic Faith and Ethics (2)   3. Islamic Jurisprudence (2)   4. History of Islamic Civilisations (2)  5. Arabic (3)   6. Civic Education (3)  7. Indonesian (5)  8. Mathematics (5)   9. Natural Sciences (6) 10. Social Sciences (6) 11. Arts and Culture (2) 12. Physical and Health Education (2) 13. English (5) 14. ICT (2) 15. Local Content Curriculum (2) 15   subjects with 49 learning hours

14   subjects with 44 learning hours

Adapted from Maksum (1999, p. 157) and the unpublished curriculum of one madrasah in Pekanbaru

Curriculum reform in Indonesian madrasah 221 selected short chapters of the Qur’an and selected Prophet’s traditions. Unlike primary madrasah students, secondary students are exposed to more contextualised teachings of both scriptures. What often becomes a problem is the students’ lack of competence in Arabic to understand the verses of the Qur’an and Hadith let alone interpret their meanings. Their understanding is solely based on translations and the teachers’ preferred interpretations. Islamic faith and ethics (Akidah and Akhlak) provide students the opportunity to develop understanding of, and faith in, Islamic beliefs and to inculcate Islamic manners in daily life. Indoctrination and often memorisations of, for instance, God’s characteristics are among the approaches that teachers are encouraged to use for primary students, whilst more reasoning and contextualisation are preferred for secondary students. These two subjects – Al-Qur’an and Hadith and Islamic faith and ethics – seem to complement, if not overlap, each other as several themes of ethics and good deeds are contained in both subjects. Islamic jurisprudence (Fiqh) for primary madrasah students contains teachings of the five pillars of Islam, food and drinks and other basic daily injunctions. More senior students learn about the Islamic principles in human interactions, crime, politics and even the foundations of Islamic jurisprudence (Usul al-Fiqh), which explains how to draw legal conclusions and verdicts from the Scriptures. The last theme requires more knowledgeable teachers and Arabic-literate students. In History of Islamic Civilisation, students learn periodical phases of Islam from the Prophet’s time to the modern period. Finally, although not part of Islamic subjects, Arabic is one of the subjects that distinguishes madrasahs from schools. This subject teaches different language skills including listening, speaking, reading and writing. In my experience, Arabic teaching in the madrasahs is ineffective due to the lack of a supportive milieu including students’ limited exposure to the language. There is another reform related to the madrasah curriculum, i.e., the introduction of the LAPIS (which stands for Learning Assistance Program for Islamic Schools) programme funded by the Australian government from 2004 to 2010 for the benefit of madrasah students. The programme trained teachers to use more innovative and student-centred teaching approaches. Although the effectiveness of this programme was not known to the public, Parker and Raihani (2011) found interesting examples of how LAPIS-trained teachers demonstrated outstanding teaching ethos and abilities. These young teachers demonstrated much better teaching skills than their older counterparts after they joined the LAPIS teacher improvement programme.

Underpinning factors The reforms of the madrasah curriculum during the three different eras of the Republic of Indonesia – the Old Order, New Order and Reform Order – cannot be seen in separation from various influential contexts and factors. It has not been a standalone process, but has been impacted by a complex set of conditions that have – directly or indirectly – coloured strongly the reform process and

222  Raihani the product, i.e., the curriculum. The national educational reform is one of the obvious factors as explicitly described above. Other factors, which are discussed below, include the ideal objective of Islamic education, socio-historical changes, political rivalry between Islamists and secularists and rivalry between sectors particularly MoR and MoEC. The ideal objective of Islamic education – to produce students who possess Islamic knowledge and morality and are active participants in society (Al-Attas, 1979; Al-Baghdadi, 1996) – has been influential in the formation of the madrasah curriculum. The defense of the madrasahs for having more Islamic subjects compared to general schools is a manifestation of the desire to uphold such an objective. The Islamic subjects that are retained in the curriculum seem to have been developed following al-Ghazali’s (Fazul-Ul-Karim, n. d.) framework of fard ‘ain, which is a collection of Islamic knowledge that every Muslim is obliged to seek as compulsory requirement. This comprises knowledge about the Islamic faith, Islamic jurisprudence (included here is al-Qur’an as a precondition for the accepted Islamic compulsory prayer) and Islamic ethics. In addition to these, al-Attas (1979) argued that Islamic history should be one of the compulsory knowledge. However, realising this ideal objective is not easy for many reasons. First, both the Islamic subject curricula and the madrasah curriculum as a whole demand too many competencies as a prerequisite, and are loaded with too many learning materials that it is questionable if proper teaching and learning ever took place within the time allocated (Parker and Raihani, 2011). One can only assume that teachers have glossed over the materials. Currently, many Islamic university lecturers like myself who teach madrasah graduates have complained about their poor mastery of the Islamic subjects. For example, many still have problems understanding the main concepts in Islamic theology and Qur’anic recitation. These poor competencies are probably not only related to the learning materials, but also due to the ineffectiveness of classroom instructions. As mentioned earlier, the maintenance of the four Islamic subjects plus Arabic have meant longer study hours and caused the whole madrasah curriculum to overload. Second, Islamic knowledge largely involves the teaching of values, which is a challenging task: how to teach and internalise Islamic values in children (e.g., honesty, tolerance and respectfulness) and how to assess its effectiveness. In the literature, this has become a topic of debate (Muhaimin, Suti’ah, and Ali, 2001). What is seen as the main problem is that the teaching of Islam in both the madrasahs and the schools is reduced to the transfer of Islamic knowledge or the development of students’ cognitive domain only. Teachers lack the expertise to teach students how to internalise such noble values despite textbooks being available in the market to help teachers deal with the challenge. The difficulty of teaching values is also reflected in the madrasah examination system, which depends heavily on paper-pencil tests as an assessment tool. In short, the Islamic teachings have effectively geared towards developing students’ cognition and skills with little attention paid to the affective domain. The madrasah curriculum has also been influenced by continuous socio-­ historical changes and demands. Besides the political conditions described above,

Curriculum reform in Indonesian madrasah 223 Hefner (2009) notes that the gradual changes in the curriculum with the adoption of more secular subjects occurred early in the history of modern madrasahs during Dutch colonial rule through to the post-independence eras. He pointed to some innovations made by several madrasahs in West Sumatra and East Java to incorporate secular subjects into their madrasah or pesantren curriculum. The Dutch-imposed educational system has influenced the madrasahs to respond to changes in society. By doing so, the demands for citizens who can contribute significantly to the societal development can be met since madrasahs and schools alike are on the move together to achieve the national educational objectives. The added value of madrasah graduates is that they possess Islamic knowledge although not to the level of those categorised as Islamic scholars. With the increasing awareness amongst Indonesian Muslims of their Islamic identity, the trend to put children in Islamic schools – either madrasah, pesantren or Islamic integrated schools4 – has risen (Ahmad, 2008). The enrollment particularly in the public madrasahs has increased from year to year. The table below provides a brief statistics of the madrasahs and the schools. From the above table, madrasahs constitute 13.9 percent of the whole educational institution population, with the largest percentage of it being private, i.e., around 80 percent. The contestation between Islamists and secular nationalists has been an ongoing tension between the two groups in Indonesia particularly since independence in 1945 when the founding fathers were in the process of deciding what kind of state Indonesia was to become (Effendy, 1998). Under Soekarno, Hatta and other figures, the secular nationalists won the ‘battle’ over the Islamists who proposed the Jakarta charter, which would have laid the foundation for an Islamic State of Indonesia. This charter was rejected and replaced with Pancasila (the Five Principles) as the nation’s philosophy, which ensures mutual understanding and tolerance and thus national unity amongst religious and cultural groups. As indicated before, to accommodate the interests of Muslims, the government established the MoR to manage Islamic affairs including Islamic education. The decision for installing Pancasila as the nation’s philosophy, however, did not pass without objection and challenge. There were rebellious movements from the Islamists, most notable of which was the Darul Islam armed rebellion led by

Table 12.2 Number of madrasahs and schools in 2011 Levels Status

Primary Sch

Mad

Junior Secondary

Senior Secondary

Sch

Sch

Mad

Mad

State 25,036,636 413,168 7,172,401 622,285 2,827,517 334,587 Private 2,547,283 2,669,058 2,252,935 1,964,821 1,368,950 667,411 Sum 27,583,919 3,082,226 9,425,336 2,587,106 4,196,467 1,001,998 Adapted from the government’s Statistics of Education (Kementerian Agama RI, 2011; Kementerian Pendidikan dan Kebudayaan, 2012)

224  Raihani Kartusuwiryo in West Java. Kartusuwiryo was one of the independent fighters who, unlike other national leaders, was not satisfied with the decision to reject the idea of an Islamic state for Indonesia (Formichi, 2012). The rivalry between Islamists and secular nationalists has continued throughout the history of modern Indonesia till today. Besides colouring Indonesian politics where Islamic parties and secular nationalist parties have always competed with, and even often opposed, each other, this rivalry has manifested in the government institutions, i.e., the MoR versus other ministries particularly the MoEC in the area of education. The integration efforts done by the relevant ministries described earlier in this chapter can be seen as part of this rivalry between Islamists and secular nationalists. The madrasah curriculum gradually adopts almost fully the general school curriculum, which makes madrasahs almost like general schools. The religious curriculum of the madrasahs is kept to the minimum, limited to the mentioned four subjects. If the madrasahs were to develop more religious subjects or programmes in order to strengthen their identity as a religious institution, they would have demanded more hours from teachers and students. This may negatively impact on madrasah students’ achievement relative to that of general school students even though this needs to be verified through further comprehensive studies. Yet, anecdotal evidence seems to show that madrasah students’ achievement is generally lower than that of general school students. The sectoral competition between the MoR and the MoEC has remained intact, even though this was often not acknowledged by officials from both ministries. The impact of this competition has been felt by madrasah teachers, who are the key players in the curriculum. For example, when the government introduced the teacher certification programme in 2006, teachers in the general schools were ‘privileged’ to be the first to be certified and received the professional incentive. I was in the committee for the Sumatra Zone madrasah teacher certification, and I could see how madrasah teachers were often overlooked in favour of their national counterparts. It was not clear, however, what were the reasons for this discrimination. But Kingham and Parsons (2013) have highlighted the absence of structural mechanism between both ministries “to encourage inter-ministerial cooperation or to provide overarching authority and funding for the education system as a whole” (p. 81). The exclusion of the MoR in the autonomy package, as indicated earlier, and the inability of the government to ‘state-ise’ private madrasahs (transforming private madrasahs into state ones) have now contributed to the severity of the impact. However, there is no denying that some private madrasahs started to perform better in the autonomy era in areas where the local governments have the political will to help.

Conclusion All in all, the development of the madrasah curriculum in Indonesia can be seen as evolving – changing gradually and continuously from the strictly religious Islamic focus to one which is more general knowledge–oriented, and hence, more similar to that of general schools. There has been a compromise mainly on the part of

Curriculum reform in Indonesian madrasah 225 the madrasahs in this evolution. One is the reduction in the number of Islamic subjects and materials to only four subjects whilst adopting all the curriculum of the general schools. Theoretically, the four subjects are as good as one big subject called Pendidikan Agama Islam (Islamic Religion Education) and imparted in four learning hours per week like in the general schools. This reduction, to some extent, has rendered the madrasahs incapable of meeting societal demands for its graduates to become Islamic scholars. In essence, the madrasahs’ objective has changed from one that grooms Islamic scholars as it did before the independence era to one that produces common school graduates with only a little ‘touch’ of Islamic knowledge. Another change is the transfer of authority in curriculum development and design from the MoR to the MoEC. This transfer, mandated in the Education Law of 2003, is limited to the development and administration of the general subject curricula. The development of Islamic subject curricula remains in the MoR’s jurisdiction. However, madrasahs have gained some notable advantages from this compromised curriculum reform. First, madrasahs are now seen as an educational institution fully equal to the general schools except that there are too many private madrasahs with low-quality education services and outcomes, which contributes to the relatively negative image of madrasahs as a whole. Second, madrasah students learn secular knowledge, and hence, its graduates are fully acknowledged by the national educational system to be able to compete with the general schools’ graduates in gaining places in universities. Depending on their streams, madrasah graduates are eligible for admission in the national universities. Third, more broadly, madrasah graduates, as a result of the curriculum reforms, are able to contribute more significantly to society with the added value that they have relatively better Islamic knowledge. Yahya Umar, a former General Director of Islamic Education of the MoR, in a private conversation some years ago, said that madrasah graduates are now eligible to enter, for example, the Faculty of Medicine in various universities so that we will have Muslim medical doctors who treat patients in the spirit of Islamic teachings and values.

Notes 1 “General schools” here means educational institutions administered by the Ministry of Education and Culture, whose curriculum tilts heavily to the secular subjects. Religious knowledge constitutes only a small part of the curriculum. 2 This section is significantly adapted from my previous publication, i.e., Raihani (2014), Creating Multicultural Citizens: A Portrayal of Contemporary Indonesian Education. New York: Routledge, pp. 40–43. 3 Post-independence Indonesia is divided into three eras of regime, i.e. Old Order (1945–66), New Older (1966–98), and Reform Order (1998–now). 4 Islamic integrated schools are private educational institutions which follow the MoEC curriculum with the additional teaching of more Islamic subjects and a heavier emphasis on Islamic culture and values. In my observation, only the religious curriculum as prescribed by the MoR was adopted; the other curriculum was developed by the institutions themselves. However, they are bound by the government’s regulation to join the national examination.

226  Raihani

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Curriculum reform in Indonesian madrasah 227 Kementrian Pendidikan Nasional. (2003). Undang-Undang Sistim Pendidikan Nasional Tahun 2003. Retrieved August 10, 2003, from www.depdiknas.go.id Kementrian Pendidikan Nasional. (2006). KTSP Pendidikan Agama Islam: Standar Kompetensi dan Kompetensi Dasar Tingkat SMA, MA, SMALB, SMK dan MAK. Jakarta: Depdiknas. Kingham, R., and Parsons, J. (2013). Integrating Madrasah into the national education system – architecture over implementation. In D. Suryadarma and G. Bolton (Eds.), Education in Indonesia (pp. 68–81). Singapore: ISEAS. Maksum. (1999). Madrasah: Sejarah & Perkembangannya. Jakarta: Logos Wacana Ilmu. Mastuhu. (1994). Dinamika Sistem Pendidikan Pesantren: Suatu Kajian Tentang Unsur dan Nilai Sistem Pendidikan Pesantren. Jakarta: INIS. Muhaimin, S., and Ali, N. (2001). Paradigma Pendidikan Islam: Upaya Mengefektifkan Pendidikan Agama Islam di Sekolah. Bandung: Rosda Karya. Mujiburrahman. (2006). Feeling Threatened: Muslim-Christian Relations in Indonesia’s New Order. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press/ISIM. Ornstein, A. C., and Hunkins, F. P. (1998). Curriculum: Foundation, Principles, and Issues (3rd edition.). Boston, MA: Allyn & Bacon. Parkay, F. W., Hass, G., and Anctil, E. J. (Eds.). (2010). Curriculum Leadership: Readings for Developing Quality Educational Programs. Boston, MA: Allyn & Bacon. Parker, L., and Raihani. (2009). Policy Briefs: Governing Madrasah. Canberra: Australia Indonesia Governance Research Partnership (AIGRP) – The Australian National University. Parker, L., and Raihani. (2011). Democratizing Indonesia through education? Community participation in Islamic School. Educational Management Administration & Leadership, 39(6), 712–732. Rabu, F. (2014). Ini Delapan Masalah dalam Implementasi Kurikulum 2013. Metronews. com. Retrieved from http://news.metrotvnews.com/read/2014/10/19/307023/ ini-delapan-masalah-dalam-implementasi-kurikulum-2013 Raihani. (2007). Successful School Leadership in Indonesia: A Study of Principals’ Leadership in Successful Senior Secondary Schools in Yogyakarta. Pekanbaru: SUSKA Press. Raihani. (2014). Creating Multicultural Citizens: A Portrayal of Contemporary Indonesian Education. New York: Routledge. Ramayulis. (2012). Sejarah Pendidikan Islam. Jakarta: Kalam Mulia. Sarnia, P. (2014, Friday, December 5). Menteri Anies Baswedan Stop Kurikulum 2013. Tempo.co. Retrieved from www.tempo.co/read/news/2014/12/05/079626628/ Menteri-Anies-Baswedan-Stop-Kurikulum-2013 Steenbrink, K. A. (1994). Pesantren, Madrasah, Sekolah. Jakarta: Lembaga Penelitian, Pendidikan dan Pengembangan Ekonomi dan Sosial (LP3ES). Tyler, R. W. (1949). Basic Principles of Curriculum and Instruction. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. Yamin, H. M. (2007). Profesionalisasi Guru dan Implementasi KTSP. Jakarta: Gaung Persada Press. Zuhdi, M. (2005). The 1975 three-minister decree and the modernization of Islamic education in Indonesia. American Educational History Journal, 32(1), 36–43.

13 Development of madrasah education in Bosnia and Herzegovina Dina Sijamhodžic´-Nadarevic´

Introduction According to a prominent Bosnian scholar, Enes Karic´, in his book, Contributions to Twentieth Century Islamic Thought in Bosnia and Herzegovina: the Madrasa has for four and a half centuries been the greatest guarantor of our [Bosnian Muslims’] religious survival. It stands on the borders of the past and the present, and was required to adapt itself to changes through which Bosnia passed . . . there are academic disciplines that form a permanent part of the Madrasa curriculum, based on the unalterable past and tradition, but also new ones that are imposed by the needs of the future towards which one must remain open . . . Madrasah also stands on . . . the East and the West. From its very origins it was not possible to speak of one without the other, and this is especially true today. (Enes Karic´, 2011: 93) Over the last several centuries, Bosnia and Herzegovina1 has passed through several socio-political, cultural and state-legal frameworks: the Ottoman rule (1463–1878), the subsequent Austro-Hungarian administration (1878– 1918), the period between the two World Wars – the Kingdom of Yugoslavia (1918–45) and Independent State of Croatia (1941–45) – and Socialist Yugoslavia (­1945–92), and finally the period of independent Bosnia and Herzegovina since 1992 until today (Imamovic´, 2014). These different socio-political and cultural contexts have strongly impacted on the madrasah, which has played a significnt role in contributing to the well being of the nation. It would not be possible to understand developments and problems affecting reform in madrasah education in the country without taking into consideration historical, political and social factors that have impacted on the institution. How the madrasah has responded to the challenges amidst radical political and social changes and varying ideologies will be examined. The central focus of this chapter is the madrasah’s survival in the past alongside concerns of its status, structure and curriculum as it adapts to its new milieu and challenges posed by the changes. The overriding aim is to reveal how the institution that has

Madrasah education in Bosnia, Herzegovina 229 withstood the test of time has dynamically survived and continues to meet the demands of change and the well-being of the nation today.

Madrasah education in Bosnia and Herzegovina during Ottoman rule (1463–1878) The starting point of Islamic education in Bosnia and Herzegovina goes back as early as the 15th century when Bosnia came under Ottoman rule. The traditional system of schooling in the Ottoman state, which had a predominantly religious character then,2 was replicated in Bosnia, providing education at both the elementary (maktab) and high (madrasah) levels. The main purpose of education was to familiarise students with basic Islamic knowledge and sciences. The maktab was the most widespread in Bosnia under Ottoman rule, having been established in almost all populated areas. More than one thousand of these schools were said to have flourished during that time (Hasanovic´, 2008). Founded as waqf (endowment charter) by the rich and influential as well as money pooled from ordinary citizens, these maktab were originally built as part of the local mosques before they became separate buildings erected next to or near the mosques. The curriculum included basic religious education and upbringing – Qur’anic reading skills, introduction to Arabic letters, Islamic dogma, religious rituals and ethics (akhlaq). Madrasahs in Bosnia, following the traditional organisation of the Ottoman madrasah, comprise the secondary (kharij) and high (dakhil) levels.3 At the secondary level, students acquired basic knowledge of the Arabic language (e.g., grammar, syntax) and knowledge of the rational sciences (e.g., logic, scholastic theology, astronomy, geometry, rhetoric, literature). This prepared them for the high-level madrasahs, which offered traditional Islamic Studies or theological teachings such as Fiqh, Usul al-fiqh (Islamic law), Tafsir (interpretation of the Qur’an), Hadith (Prophetic sayings), Kalam and Aqaid (Islamic scholastic theology and Islamic belief). The contents of these subject areas were drawn from the famous works of classical Muslim scholars (Al-Zamahsheri, Al-Taftazani, AlMarginani and others) (C´uric, 1983; Nakicˇevic´, 1988). A unique feature of the Ottoman madrasahs was the development of the entire curriculum based on textbooks rather than subjects. Textbooks were studied in a certain order, from simple to complex textbooks. The mudarris (teachers) played a crucial role in prescribing the curriculum and choosing the textbooks (C´uric´, 1983). These textbooks, however, were not written in the Bosnian language, the mother tongue of the madrasah students, but in Arabic, Turkish and Persian. Classes were not held in Bosnian either. For this reason, it could take a student longer than usual to graduate from a madrasah in Bosnia than elsewhere – 12–16 years of study, and in some cases, even more than 20 years. In any case, the duration of schooling was not prescribed. There was also no division into classes according to the age of students. Instead they were divided into halaqah (learning circles based on students’ level of knowledge), which provided for a faster, more efficient education for students of different abilities. Students passed

230  Dina Sijamhodžic´-Nadarevic´ from the lower to the higher halaqah immediately after acquiring the knowledge of certain textbooks. Thus, the students’ duration of study depended on the individual abilities of students and the quality of teaching. This system of education based on halaqah was dominant in the Muslim world in general at the time. In the classical Islamic educational system, the mudarris (teacher) was generally responsible for the level of education in the madrasah, taking into account his expertise, competencies and reputation. That the mudarris was the main pillar of education can be seen from the fact that diplomas (ijazatnamas) were issued under his name and not the name of the madrasah. The daily salary that a teacher received (between 10 to 60 akçe),4 determined by the vakufnamas (endowment charters), also distinguished one level of madrasah from the other, with teachers working in high-level madrasahs receiving a higher salary (between 50 to 60 akçe) than those teaching at the secondary-level madrasahs. The first few of the high-level madrasahs were founded in the larger cultural and administrative centres (Sarajevo, Focˇa, Banja Luka, Livno, Travnik, Prusac, Zvornik, Cˇ ajnicˇe, Pljevlje), the first being Firuz Bay Madrasah, established between 1505 and 1512 in Sarajevo. In the course of the 16th century, more of these schools were established, usually founded by sultans, princes, princesses and viziers. The exact number of madrasahs established in Bosnia and Herzegovina during the Ottoman rule is not easy to determine although researchers estimate the number to be over 100 (C´uric´, 1983; Kasumovic´, 1999; Hasanovic´, 2008). Among the madrasahs in Bosnia, the Gazi Husrev-bay Madrasah (est. 1537 in Sarajevo) was the most highly regarded. It was modelled after the madrasahs in the main Ottoman state and administrative centres in Istanbul, Bursa and Edirne, and attracted highly competent and influential teachers. Nevertheless, unlike high-level madrasahs in the main Ottoman state itself, Gazi Husrev-bay Madrasah graduates were not eligible to register with the Kazaasker (supreme military judge in Istanbul), which would have allowed them to apply for key positions (political, administrative, judicial, educational) in the Ottoman empire. It was the policy of the Ottoman authorities then to exclude graduates from schools outside the major centres such as Istanbul for entry to key state positions even though the madrasah’s curriculum was unique in the whole territory of the Ottoman state. There were, however, exceptions. Graduates of high-level Bosnian madrasahs were known to have been appointed as teachers at their alma maters although they were not registered in Istanbul. This was possible on the special request of the local Qadi (judge), who sent recommendations to Istanbul and received confirmation for these appointments. Most madrasah graduates in Bosnia usually worked as clerics in the mosques, maktab, tekke (dervish lodge or place of worship) and jama’at (local Muslim congregations) (C´uric´, 1983; Kasumovic´, 1999; Hasanovic´, 2008). Ambitious Bosnian madrasah graduates continued their education in Istanbul, which at the time was the main centre of Islamic scholarship (C´uric´, 1983). As these schools (e.g., Sahn and Sulejmanija schools) were recognised by the Kazaasker, their graduates could find employment anywhere in the territory of the Ottoman empire and in the Muslim world, some assuming key positions in the country.

Madrasah education in Bosnia, Herzegovina 231 Towards the end of the Ottoman rule in Bosnia and Herzegovina, the Ottoman empire faced economic and political challenges from the emerging capitalist system of Western Europe, and was growing increasingly weak to resist them. The weakening of the economy, and of the military power, as well as the collapse of the feudal system had an impact on the educational institutions. Bosnia as a province of the Ottoman state was exposed to these challenges. The population of Bosnia was exhausted because of the taxes imposed by the Ottoman rulers to fund their military campaigns abroad, and this negatively affected the madrasahs in terms of their ability to remain economically sustainable. A significant number of madrasahs ceased to operate during the last decades of the Ottoman rule in Bosnia and Herzegovina as well as at the beginning of the Austro-Hungarian administration. It was during this late period of Ottoman rule that certain reforms (Tanzimat reforms from 1839) took place in the entire Ottoman territory. In these reforms, the structure of government and administration was reorganised. There was also a call for the adoption of Western-style institutions, military technologies and educational institutions through which some Western ideas were introduced into the Ottoman society. These reforms, however, were too abrupt. Many, including the ulama, were not adequately prepared for the challanges of the modern capitalist economy. Suspicous of foreign influences, they strongly resisted the import of Western ideas and institutions and the call for madrasah education to keep up with new societal demands. As a result, the centuries-long maktab and madrasah education lost its primary value and reached a state of decline and eventual closure by the time the Ottoman rule ended (Karcˇic´, 1999). Not making much headway in madrasah education, the reformers focused instead on establishing common secular education. The period of Tanzimat reforms in Bosnia was marked by the growth of Islamic primary schools, the establishment of new non-Muslim schools and Ottoman state schools for general and specialised education across primary, secondary and high school education (ruždije/Turkish rus¸diyye – secondary schools preparing administrative staff, open to students of all confessions; idadijje – military schools; dar-almuallimin – school for teachers and some others) (C´uric´, 1983; Karcˇic´, 1999).

Madrasah education in Bosnia and Herzegovina during the Austro-Hungarian administration (1878–1918) The occupation of Bosnia by the Austro-Hungarian empire in 1878, after almost five centuries of Ottoman rule in Bosnia, was a dramatic change for Bosnian Muslims. After their initial confusion and indecision on whether to immigrate or stay in Bosnia, the majority decided to stay and started to organise themselves within the existing political system. This period was crucial for Bosnian Muslims as this was their first direct contact with European ideas and institutions. The Austro-Hungarian occupiers made several moves to control the political, economic and cultural life of the Bosnian people (Bosniaks), sever political links between Bosnia and the Ottoman state, and in the process weaken the Bosnian

232  Dina Sijamhodžic´-Nadarevic´ Muslims’ (Bosniaks)5 traditional affiliation with the cultural and spiritual centres of the Islamic world (Hasanovic´, 2008). Deriving its authority from a Christian monarchy, the government attempted to reduce the influence of the Ottoman state by removing the influence of the Office of Shaikh al-Islam as the highest religious/legal authority of Sunni Muslims at the time. They put in place the institution of Rais al-Ulama (supreme religious leader) in 1882, and appointed the first Bosnian to the post (Karcˇic´, 1999; Alibašic´ and Zubcˇevic´, 2009). An institution for Islamic higher education was also established to encourage students to pursue tertiary education locally rather than relocating to Istanbul. Prior to this, other than Gazi Husrev-bay Madrasah, there were no Bosnian institutions which provided comparable instruction of that nature. The new regime brought in by the Austro-Hungarian occupation also demanded changes in the education of religious officials such as those working in the shari’ah courts. Because of the persistent need for qualified personnel to run these institutions, the Šerijatska sudacˇka škola6 (Shari’ah Judges School) was established in Sarajevo in 1887 and funded by the authorities. This was consistent with the interests of the Austro-Hungarian regime to reduce the number of Bosnian Muslims educated in Istanbul (Karcˇic´, 1999). However, while the AustroHungarian authorities aimed to weaken traditional religious affiliations with the Ottoman state, they made no attempt to establish secular state institutions of higher education in Bosnia that would connect Bosnian Muslims with European metropolises and their higher educational institutions. Before the Bosnian Muslims obtained autonomy in the educational affairs and administration of waqf (endowment) institutions in 1909, the Austro-Hungarian authorities made attempts to control waqf – the Bosnians’ material and financial basis – and the activities of the Islamic institutions. They monitored the financial records of waqf in 1889 and 19127 and became privy to the financial situation of Bosnian madrasahs. These various moves by the Austro-Hungarian authorities had sowed the seeds of mistrust in the Muslim population, especially among the more conservative ulama. Any attempts at reforms were seen as yet another move by the authorities to weaken their Islamic identity even if the reforms were initiated from within the community. For instance, a group of progressive Muslim intellectuals saw the need for madrasah reforms as a means to uplift the cultural and socio-economic standing of the community within the new social and cultural order that they were in. But these were resisted by the ulama, who believed that the younger ulama should be in charge of the modernisation of their education. The need for the modernisation of Muslim education and that of other groups in Bosnia was also recognised by the Austro-Hungarian authorities but from their own ideological angle, goals and interests, which often conflicted with those of the communities they ruled over. One example was the creation of the primary, secondary and higher-level schools and separate schools for girls where religious education was a compulsory feature, whether Islamic, Catholic or Orthodox Christian (Papic´, 1972). Religious education was also taught in other professional schools (commercial, trade, occupational, etc.), but the Muslim population, fearing national and religious alienation, remained faithful to maktab and madrasahs.

Madrasah education in Bosnia, Herzegovina 233 Due to the mistrust towards the occupying regime and the strong influence of conservative scholars, only a very small number of Muslim children were enrolled in the state’s primary and secondary schools. Consequently, Bosniaks had the lowest percentage of literacy amongst the ethnic groups in the region (Serbs, Croats and others) during the 40 years of Austro-Hungarian rule. Through the state schools with their own educational programmes, reference literature and educational staff, the Austro-Hungarian authorities tried to influence the younger generations of Bosnian society to accept the foreign culture. For this and other reasons, Muslims in Bosnia felt the need to preserve a madrasah-type education for the youth to keep them away from foreign influences. However, often this desire for autonomy was a cause for the backwardness of some Islamic institutions. The Austro-Hungarian government tried to control the madrasahs’ activities through the inclusion of secular subjects in the curriculum apart from the traditional religious subjects. The government provided financial support to the madrasahs on the condition that they introduced the subjects. This was justified as part of establishing ‘the general order and behavior’.8 This meant incorporating European codes of behavior and their cultural and civilisational values in the madrasahs. This was met with a strong resistance and was one of the reasons why the worldly (secular) subjects were introduced late into the madrasah curriculum (Bušatlic´, 2002). The problem of the madrasahs in Bosnia during the Austro-Hungarian rule was complex (Šukric´, 1988). It was not a matter of the government’s right to control madrasahs and the Muslim disagreement with that control. There were deeper issues such as the confrontation of the Islamic traditional education with modern European sciences and methods, the conflict of religious (spiritual) and materialist worldviews, the intrusion of Western ethics and behaviour into Islamic education, the replacement of the dominant Oriental languages (Turkish, Arabic and Persian) with the local Bosnian and Western languages (German, Hungarian and others), the usage of new educational literature from the secular subjects whose authors were often non-Muslims and whose worldviews sometimes were in conflict with the Islamic worldview, differences in the methodology of teaching and the classification of subjects and the shortage of teachers for the secular subjects in the madrasahs, for which non-Muslim teachers had to be engaged. There was also the issue of validating the education of the madrasah graduates to enable them to continue their education in the larger Islamic centres, especially Istanbul. The employment of the madrasah graduates also became limited. Some reform-oriented ulama and secular intellectuals were for the modernisation of the madrasahs on the condition that the latter be given autonomy. But autonomy was difficult to achieve because of the lengthy process involved and because of the resistance from the conservatives. One notable figure among the reformers was Rais al-ulama Džemaludin Cˇ auševic´. After completing his madrasah education in Bosnia, he studied law, literature, theology, philosophy, mysticism and history in Istanbul. Upon his graduation in 1903, he returned to Bosnia and was appointed as head of the educational sector of the Ulama-majlis (the supreme body of the Bosnian Muslims – the Ulama Council). In 1913, shortly before the First World War, he was appointed Rais al-ulama of Bosnia.

234  Dina Sijamhodžic´-Nadarevic´ During his stint with the educational sector of Ulama-majlis, and later as Rais al-ulama, Cˇ auševic´ focused on reforming educational institutions (madrasahs, Islamic religious education in public schools), recognising that the predominant problem of Muslims in Bosnia was their weak education system. While in Istanbul during his studies, he was familiar with the conservative resistance to the Tanzimat reforms. At the same time, he was familiar with the teachings of the Egyptian modernist Muslim scholars Jamaluddin Al-Afghani and Muhammad Abduh and their reformist endeavors. This experience and knowledge helped Cˇ auševic´ in his analysis of the educational situation in Bosnia and the necessary reforms required. He strongly supported Abduh’s modernist stand. Cˇ auševic´ advocated writing in, and translating books to, the mother tongue (Bosnian) to alleviate the difficulty of madrasah students reading and studying in Arabic and Turkish languages. He supported the introduction of secular subjects in madrasahs and the fixing of the duration of schooling. He also strongly advocated religious and secular state education for the female Muslim population in Bosnia, which at that time was in an unenviable position. Until then, the girls had access to religious education only up to the maktab level (Karic´, 2008). Despite the resistance of the conservative ulama, Cˇ auševic´, with the Ulama Council behind him, was able to carry out certain reforms. He translated and wrote several textbooks in the Bosnian language but in “Arebica” – Arabic letters adjusted to the phonetics of Bosnian language as an interim measure before writing with Bosnian letters. By the beginning of the First World War, he printed over 40 different books, which were introduced as textbooks in maktab, and later in some madrasahs. This was a turning point in the history of the madrasahs. Prior to the First World War, reforms in madrasah education were focused specifically on the introduction of secular subjects in the madrasahs. The goal was to provide madrasah students with a programme that would give them better employment prospects. The First World War, however, curtailed the reform process allowing for only partial reform – introduction of secular subjects and textbooks in the Bosnian language and the establishment of the only reformed madrasah – okružne medrese (district madrasah) – in Sarajevo in 1916–17. This madrasah introduced secular subjects, employed more teachers and was partially financed by the state and the central waqf institution. The school did not survive financially, however, and was closed some time before the start of the Second World War (Šukric´, 1988; C´uric´, 1983; Bušatlic´, 2002). Other madrasahs in Bosnia during the Austro-Hungarian reign continued to operate, more or less, in the same manner as during the Ottoman period.

Madrasah education between the two World Wars and socialist Yugoslavia (1918–92) The change of governments and the enactment of new social and political institutions between the two World Wars – the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes; the Kingdom of Yugoslavia; the Independent State of Croatia – meant major new changes for Bosnian Muslims. Bosniaks were marginalised and ceased to be

Madrasah education in Bosnia, Herzegovina 235 identified as an ethnic community in the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes. Instead, despite their autochthonous status, the Bosniaks were relegated to a religious group and their country Bosnia was not recognised as a historical entity. The Bosniaks suffered economically after their property was taken away for a small price. They had to fight for their cultural, spiritual and physical survival. Some of the mosques were destroyed or transformed into military warehouses or offices. The graveyards were desecrated and the waqf property usurped. The Muslim religious and educational autonomy obtained in 1909 during the AustroHungarian rule was abolished in 1930.9 The system of Islamic education suffered as a result. Given the policy of the government of the Kingdom of Yugoslavia of marginalising madrasahs from the wider society and preventing madrasah graduates from continuing on to higher education in the country, a new curriculum, which deliberately excluded a number of secular subjects, was prescribed through the Ulama Council. This prevented students such as those from Gazi Husrev-bay Madrasah from enrolling at state secular universities in the country despite the madrasah being recognised as a secondary professional school by the Ministry of Education. These graduates had little choice but to continue their further education at Al-Azhar University in Egypt or later, with the establishment of the Higher Islamic School of Shari’ah and Theology in 1937 (Viša islamska šerijatsko-teološka škola) in Sarajevo, pursue higher Islamic education there. During the reign of the Independent State of Croatia (est. in 1941), Gazi Husrev-bay Madrasah graduates were allowed to enter the law faculty and the faculty of philosophy in Croatia (Bušatlic´, 2002). There was an attempt by the Ulama Council to rectify this when it issued a Resolution in 1938 that required the madrasahs to reorganise themselves into two levels of schooling (lower and upper), each of which lasted four years. Secular subjects were offered but at the lower level following the practice in the public schools. Thus, since 1939, a uniformed curriculum was established in all madrasahs in Bosnia. The famous historian of Islamic culture and civilisation in Bosnia, Ismet Bušatlic´, once highlighted the difficulty in bringing about reform in madrasah education: Despite all the difficulties of implementing reforms of Islamic educational institutions in Bosnia and Herezgovina in the first five decades of the 20th century, a certain quality (of graduates) cannot be denied even though these reforms were often a necessary adaptation to the new circumstances, but the radical reforms in line with contemporary needs and a clear vision. (Ismet Bušatlic´, 2002: 48) Later, with the establishment of the Communist regime in 1945, religion and religious affairs lost their previous public status to a great degree. Religion was widely considered a private matter that had no relevance whatsoever to public life and schools. The prevailing public education system during the communist period was rendered immune to any religious influence. The repressive

236  Dina Sijamhodžic´-Nadarevic´ state policies during the first decade of communist Yugoslavia abolished shari’ah courts, maktab and the Higher School of Islamic Shari’ah and Theology, and closed all madrasahs by force except the Gazi Husrev-bay Madrasah. Although socialist Yugoslavia had the biggest Muslim population, only this madrasah was allowed to continue to function after the Second World War.

The curriculum of Gazi Husrev-bay Madrasah Gazi Husrev-bay Madrasah10 is the oldest educational institution in Bosnia and Herzegovina and one of the few in the world that has continued to exist since its establishment in 1537.11 As such, Gazi Husrev-bay Madrasah offers a good case study of curriculum reform throughout much of Bosnia and Herzegovina’s history. It was the only surviving madrasah during the communist Yugoslavia period. The founder of the madrasah, Gazi Husrev-bay, in his endowment, stated that teachers in the madrasah should teach the following school subjects: Tafsir, Hadith, Ahkam (shari’ah law), Usul (fundamentals of shari’ah law), Kalam (apologetics), Me’ani and Bayan (poetics and stylistics) and other subjects required in the future (Nakicˇevic´, 1988). The Austro-Hungarian government encountered for the first time the classical type of madrasah education in Gazi Husrev-bay Madrasah. The debate between the government’s official, Baron Kutchera, and Bosnian Muslim representatives that led to the latter’s claim for autonomy in religious, waqf and educational affairs in 1909 was a prelude to the introduction of secular subjects in some madrasahs in Bosnia. A list of literature, dated 1910, found in the classroom of this madrasah, featured books from the social and natural sciences – general history, Turkish grammar, Turkish literature, new geography, biology, history of the Ottoman empire, Arabic grammar, general geography, selected extracts from Sadi‘s “Đulistan” (Persian Literature), ethics and culture, math, Islamic history, geography, chemistry, the history of Prophets and technical education (Šukric´, 1988). In 1921, soon after the First World War, a reform effort in Gazi Husrev-bay Madrasah led to religious and secular subjects being taught (secular courses were similar to those offered in state secondary schools): history, physics, chemistry, hygiene, etc. In 1931, German language classes as well as civil law science were introduced in all middle and senior levels. At the same time, there was an entrance examination testing students on knowledge of the local language (Bosnian) and mathematics. The Resolution of 1938 by the Ulama Council that required madrasahs to reorganise themselves into two levels of schooling and to offer secular subjects at the lower level was followed through at Gazi Husrev-bay Madrasah. On completion of the lower-level education, students proceeded to the higher level where they studied religious subjects that prepared them for work as imam and mu’allim (teachers). The Resolution also opened the gate for graduates of the lower madrasahs to enroll into the Dar al-Muallimin School (Teachers’ College) and prescribed the establishment of an eight-grade secondary religious school

Madrasah education in Bosnia, Herzegovina 237 for women in 1940 (previously established as a five-grade school in 1932). The school, named The Gazi Husrev-bay Girls’ Madrasah, was closed in 1949 during the Communist regime but reopened in 1978. The Resolution thus affirmed the status of Gazi Husrev-bay Madrasah as a full secondary professional school that offered both general and religious education. Under the regime of socialist Yugoslavia, basic compulsory education was increased from four to eight years of schooling. This resulted in a great number of children attending state primary schools, affecting enrollment at Gazi Husrev-­bay Madrasah. In 1961–62, the madrasah reduced its eight-year system of schooling to five years, removing the secular subjects (other than the local language) in the first year and reducing the number of these subjects in the other years at the lower level. The five years of schooling at the madrasah was later reduced further to four years in 1982–83. The fifth year, which was previously designed as a preparatory year for the future work of imam, khatib and muallim, was no longer a requirement for entry into the newly opened Islamic Theological Faculty in Sarajevo (established in 1977). Another reason for shortening the duration of study was to make madrasah graduates equal with other state secondary graduates whose education lasted for four years (Veladžic´, 2017). Teaching materials of some school subjects were adjusted in view of the shorter period. In the Gazi Husrev-bay Girls’ Madrasah, household courses (knitting, weaving and other practical household occupations) were added to the religious and general subjects (Karic´ and Veladžic´, 1988).

Madrasah education in Bosnia and Herzegovina from 1992 until today Bosnia and Herzegovina, as one of the six federal republics of the former Republic of Yugoslavia, underwent social, economic and political changes imposed by the Communist government. Bosnia and Herzegovina was particularly affected by the abolition of many traditional Muslim institutions, among them madrasahs, with the exception of Gazi Husrev-bay Madrasah. In the 1980s the rapid decline of the Yugoslav economy led to widespread public dissatisfaction with the political system. Following examples of Slovenia and Croatia, Bosnia proclaimed its independence in March 1992 after a successful referendum. This was recognised by the European Union (EU) and the United States of America (USA). However, Bosnian Serb paramilitary forces, asissted by the Yugoslav People’s Army, soon began a bloody war which led to widespread ethnic cleansing and, in at least one region, genocide. War was stopped by the international intervention led by the USA with the signing of the Dayton Peace Agreement in 1995 (Alibašic´ and Zubcˇevic´, 2009; Lampe, 2009). Although the Islamic revival in former Yugoslavia started earlier in the 1970s, the above-mentioned warfare had an immense impact on the re-awakening of Bosnian Muslims. In the absence of adequate responses to, and interest in, the plight of Bosnian Muslims during the early stages of the war, the elected

238  Dina Sijamhodžic´-Nadarevic´ government as well as the Islamic Community of Bosnia and Herzegovina12 took the initiative to establishing contacts with Muslim states and Western Europe in an attempt to secure desperately needed diplomatic and humanitarian aid as well as financial support. The Islamic Community carried the bulk of the efforts in the revival of Islam and still seems to hold a dominant position over foreign Islamic influences (Karcˇic´, n.d.). New legislations adopted in the country during the post-war period secured greater religious freedom and thus paved the way for a greater manifestation and practice of religion.13 The collapse of communism also led to the re-establishment of several traditional Islamic madrasahs. During the war period (1992–95), five madrasahs which were closed during the socialist regime were reopened: Karad¯oz-bay Madrasah in Mostar (est. 1570, closed 1918, reopened 1995); Behram-bay Madrasah in Tuzla (est. 1674, closed 1949, reopened 1993); Elcˇi Ibrahim Paša Madrasah in Travnik (est. 1705, closed 1941, reopened 1994); Džemaludin efendija Cˇ auševic´ Madrasah in Cazin (est. 1867, closed 1920, reopened 1993); Osman efendija Redžovic´ Madrasah in Visoko (est. 1927, closed 1935, reopened 1992). Together with Gazi HusrevBay Madrasah in Sarajevo, there are today six madrasahs offering Islamic higher education and secondary school education. The Islamic Community in Bosnia and Herzegovina, which runs the six madrasahs, also runs madrasah education in Novi Pazar in Serbia. Bosnia-Herzegovina’s six madrasahs were unified by the adoption of the Madrasah Statute by the Islamic Community. In 1993–94, the curriculum was revised, and, in addition to the standard subjects (Tilawat al-Qur’an, Aqaid, Fiqh, Imamat, Tafsir, Hadith, history of Islam, Bosnian, Arabic, Turkish, history, geography, logic, philosophy, psychology, pedagogy, sociology, biology, organisation and administration, defense training and physical and health Education) now included new subjects (Latin, mathematics, physics and chemistry). The new curriculum, together with the new democratic constitution of Bosnia and Herzegovina, enabled the madrasah graduates admission to almost all secular higher education institutions in Bosnia and Herzegovina, which they had been denied entry during the Communist reign. This curriculum, which allocated 70 percent of curriculum time to the Islamic fields of knowledge and 30 percent to general subjects, trained madrasah students primarily to serve as prayer leaders (imam, khatib) and maktab teachers, but they were allowed to continue their higher education at Islamic and secular educational institutions. The madrasah curriculum has changed significantly over the past decade, transforming the madrasahs from institutions that primarily produced imam and religious teachers into regular high schools with additional religious components. Since 2004, the composition of Islamic knowledge and general subjects has been reversed: 30 percent of Islamic fields and 70 percent of other fields. The curriculum contains 23 school subjects including common, elective and optional subjects. The common part of the curriculum is mandatory for all madrasah students. The subjects are classified into five areas: Islamic knowledge (Tilawat al-Qur’an, Aqaid, Fiqh, Akhlaq, Tafsir, Hadith, history of Islam); languages (Bosnian, Arabic, English); social sciences (history, geography, philosophy, psychology, logic,

Madrasah education in Bosnia, Herzegovina 239 pedagogy, sociology); hard (natural) sciences (mathematics, physics, chemistry, biology) and a multidisciplinary field of knowledge (information technology, physical and health education, democracy and human rights). Although madrasahs still provide the main pool for the recruitment of imam, the curriculum changes have widened the scope. The madrasah graduates are better prepared to continue their education in the modern sciences at the higher educational institutions in the country and abroad. However, to gain the professional titles of imam, khatib and mu’allim, which before were available to them when they finished their madrasah education, now they need to pursue Islamic higher education at the Faculty of Islamic Studies in Sarajevo (Bosnia and Herzegovina) to obtain the qualification. Today’s madrasah is an Islamic high school for 14–18-year-olds. The curriculum, where the medium of instruction is the Bosnian language, is developed by the Islamic Community of Bosnia and Herzegovina and approved by the Ministry of Education and Science at the cantonal levels. Madrasahs are financed primarily by the state and partially by the Islamic Community. Around 400 students (with roughly equal numbers of boys and girls in recent years) graduate every year from the six madrasahs. Madrasah is also a dormitory school with female and male departments. In general, all students live in a boarding school which, in addition to regular classes, provides students a variety of extracurricular activities through the different sections, clubs and circles. The goal of madrasah education is to provide students with new knowledge and skills and cultivate holistic personalities that breathe the spirit of Islam. This is achieved through several means among which include: acquiring knowledge, skills and habits informed by Islam and the modern sciences; developing emotional and physical abilities, healthy lifestyle, mutual respect and self-esteem; training in at least two foreign languages; preparing for higher education in the country and abroad; training in the use of different sources of information for independent research; developing interest in scientific progress; developing creative abilities, critical thinking and understanding job responsibilities; developing a stable and creative personality that will harmonise Islamic ethics with labour, intellect, aesthetics and the physical; developing Islamic humanism and awareness of belonging to one’s own cultural space but open to other cultures; raising awareness of the responsibility for their loved ones, for the home, family and community, spirituality, tradition, language and native country; preservation and cultivation of historical memories and awareness of the specifics of the historical experience gained in a multi-religious, multiethnic and multicultural environment. In realising the aforementioned educational goals and objectives, madrasahs include all aspects of education. Educational activities in the madrasahs consist of regular classes, elective courses, extracurricular activities, public and cultural activities. Since the majority of students live in the dormitories, a comprehensive after-class educational programme is designed for them including house rules, schedule of daily activities, plenary lectures, individual interviews with students and cooperation with parents. Dormitory educators work on a daily basis with students after regular school classes (realised by class teachers).

240  Dina Sijamhodžic´-Nadarevic´ The six madrasahs hire about 150 male and female teachers (full and part time) and about 50 male and female dormitory educators. More than half of the teachers and educators are men. Most female teachers are engaged in teaching languages, social sciences, natural sciences and mathematics and multidisciplinary fields of knowledge. Subjects within the Islamic fields of knowledge are usually dominated by male teachers. More reforms can be expected that would attempt to balance the male-female distribution across disciplines as well as prepare women for madrasah leadership positions (Sijamhodžic´-Nadarevic´, 2009). New trends in education have shaped the role of teachers and educators in the madrasahs. The latest madrasah educational reforms have resulted in more madrasah teachers and educators acquiring postgraduate qualifications (Master and PhD) in the fields of their professions. Reformed school curriculum and numerous educational programmes implemented by well-qualified teaching and educational personnel through regular classes and extracurricular activities allow madrasah students to expand their knowledge in the fields of Islamic and modern sciences, culture, arts, entertainment, information technology and prepare themselves for work in the community and life in a modern society including coping with the challenges of religious life in the Bosnian, European and broader contexts. Female madrasah students graduating from the Faculty of Islamic Studies in the University of Sarajevo (Theological department or Department for Religious pedagogy) are usually employed as religious education teachers in Bosnian public preschools and primary and secondary schools. Male graduates are mostly engaged as imam, khatib or mua’llim in Bosniak jama’at in the country and abroad. During the aggression against Bosnia and Herzegovina in the period 1992–95, many Bosnian Muslims were forced to leave their country and became a diaspora abroad. In 1995, the Office of the Bosniak diaspora of the Islamic Community in Bosnia and Herzegovina, based in Sarajevo, began regular contact with over 200 Bosniak jama’at (congregations) in Australia, North America and Europe. Most of the imam, khatib and mua’llim in these Bosniak jama’at are madrasah graduates from Bosnia and Herzegovina. Their role is crucial in helping to preserve the culture, tradition, religion and customs of Bosnian Muslims in the diaspora as well as in the country.

Conclusion The chapter provides a glimpse of how an institution that has withstood the test of time has adapted to its changing milieu and dynamically survived. The madrasah in Bosnia and Herzegovina has evolved into what is today a secondary Islamic educational institution. Its 600-year history is a turbulent one marked by radical political and social changes and varying ideologies represented by different political forces that either ruled or waged war in the country. The different socio-political and cultural milieus that emerged have strongly impacted on the

Madrasah education in Bosnia, Herzegovina 241 madrasah, challenging its status, structure and curriculum, and affecting reform. Till today, it continues to meet the demands of change and the well-being of the nation. Starting with the modest aim of familiarising students with basic Islamic knowledge and sciences during its inception under Ottoman rule, to providing training for imam, khatib and mu’allim over the centuries, it now locates itself within a larger educational structure, preparing students for higher education in the universities in areas not limited to the religious sector. This has required adjustment or reform in organisational structure, duration of study, subject offerings and time allocation to different fields of knowledge. What has remained constant, and in fact enhanced, is the provision for holistic education that impacts on the cognitive, affective and spiritual growth of the students. While its evolution is unique, still in some ways, the madrasah’s transformation into an institution that constantly listens for the developmental beat of the country and keeps up with the pace mirrors the developmental trajectory of madrasahs in other political and socio-cultural settings.

Notes 1 Bosnia and Herzegovina is the present name of the country. The name ‘Bosnia’ predates Bosnia and Herzegovina. 2 In the 19th century, the Ottoman state established state schools in addition to the religious schools, which were also reflected in Bosnia. 3 Today in Bosnia, madrasah is a secondary school but historically it was a generic name for any school from secondary to university. 4 Akcˇa/akçe is a silver coin. The akçe was the chief monetary unit of the Ottoman empire. 5 Bosniaks are Slavic Muslims whose native land is Bosnia and Herzegnovia, but Bosniaks are present as a minority in other countries in the Balkan Peninsula. 6 The school was transformed into Viša islamska šerijatsko-teološka škola (Higher Islamic Shari’ah-Theology School) in 1937. 7 Proracˇuni vakufa u okružju sarajevskom za 1889. i 1890; Proracˇun vakufa Bosne i Hercegovine za godinu 1912 [Waqf records in the Sarajevo Region in 1889 and 1890; Waqf records in Bosnia and Herzegovina in 1912]. Sarajevo: Islamska dionicˇka štamparija. 8 Speech of the government representative, Kutchera. 9 This prompted Rais al-ulama Cˇ auševic´ to resign from his position. 10 The school was previously named ‘Seldžukija’ after the name of Gazi Husrevbay’s mother, Selc¸ uka (daughter of Sultan Bayezid II). To most people, the madrasah was called ‘Kuršumlija’ (from Turkish kurs¸um, which means lead) due to its lead roof. The school was officially named after the founder’s name as ‘Gazi Husrev-bay Madrasa’ in 1921 by uniting Kuršumlija Madrasah and Gazi Husrevbay Hanikah (Sufi centre). 11 Gazi Husrev-bay Madrasah marks its 480th anniversary in 2017 (Veladžic´, 2017). 12 The Islamic Community of Bosnia and Herzegovina is an autonomous organisation that regulates the activities and manages the assets of Bosnian Muslims in the country (see Rijaset Islamske zajednice u Bosni i Hercegovini, 2012). 13 Law on the Freedom of Religion and the Legal Position of Churches and Religious Communities in Bosnia and Herzegovina was legislated in 2004.

242  Dina Sijamhodžic´-Nadarevic´

References Alibašic´, A., and Zubcˇevic´, A. (2009). Islamic education in Bosnia and Herzegovina. In E. Aslan (Ed.), Islamische Erziehung in Europa/Islamic Education in Europe. Vienna: Bohlau. Bušatlic´, I. (2002). Programske i organizacijske reforme vjersko-obrazovnog sistema islamske zajednice u 20. Stoljec´u. [Program and organisational reforms of the Islamic Community educational system in the 20th century]. Novi Muallim [The New Teacher], 3(8), 45–50. C´uric´, H. (1983). Muslimansko školstvo u Bosni i Hercegovini do 1918 [Muslim Education in Bosnia and Herzegovina until 1918]. Sarajevo: Veselin Masleša. Hasanovic´, B. (2008). Islamske obrazovne ustanove u Bosni i Hercegovini od 1850. do 1941. godine [Islamic Educational Institutions in Bosnia and Herzegovina 1850– 1941]. Zenica: Islamski Pedagoški Fakultet. Imamovic´, M. (2014). Historija države i prava Bosne i Hercegovine [State and low history of Bosnia and Herzegovina]. Sarajevo: University Press. Karcˇic´, F. (1999). The Bosniaks and the challenges of modernity: Late Ottoman and Habsburg Times. Sarajevo: El-Kalem. Karcˇic´, H. (n.d.). Islamic revival in Bosnia and Herzegovina 1992–2010. Retrieved January 30, 2017, from http://cns.ba/wp-content/uploads/2014/03/islamic_ revival_in _Bosnia_and_Herzegovina_1992–1995.pdf Karic´, E. (2008). Mehmed Džemaludin Cˇauševic´. Sarajevo: Dobra Knjiga. Karic´, E. (2011). Contributions to Twentieth Century Islamic Thought in Bosnia and Herzegovina (Vol. 1). Sarajevo: El-Kalem. Karic´, E., and Veladžic´, I. (1988). Gazi Husrev-begova medresa od oslobod¯enja do danas (1945–1987) [Gazi Husrev Bay madrasa from liberation to the present (1945–1987)]. In S. Bristric´ and N. Šukric´ (Eds.), 450 godina Gazi Husrev-begove medrese u Sarajevu. Sarajevo: Gazi Husrev-begova medresa u Sarajevu. Kasumovic´, I. (1999). Školstvo i obrazovanje u Bosanskom ejaletu za vrijeme osmanske uprave [Schools and education in Bosnian eyalat during the Ottoman reign]. Mostar: Islamski Kulturni Centar. Lampe, J. R. (2009). Bosnian conflict: European history (1992–1995). Encylopedia Britannica. Retrieved June 18, 2017, from www.britannica.com/event/ Bosnian-conflict. Nakicˇevic´, O. (1988). Gazi Husrev-begova medresa u vrijeme Osmanske Turske [Gazi Husrev Bay madrasa during the Ottoman Turkey]. In S. Bristric´ and N. Šukric´ (Eds.), 450 godina Gazi Husrev-begove medrese u Sarajevu. Sarajevo: Gazi Husrev-begova medresa u Sarajevu. Papic´, M. (1972). Školstvo u Bosni i Hercegovini za vrijeme Austro-Ugarske okupacije (1878–1918) [Education in Bosnia and Herzegovina during the Austro-Hungarian occupation (1878–1918)]. Sarajevo: Veselin Masleša. Proracˇuni vakufa u okružju sarajevskom za 1889. (i 1890). [Waqf records for 1889 and 1890]; Proracˇun vakufa Bosne i Hercegovine za godinu 1912 [Waqf records for 1912]. Sarajevo: Islamska Dionicˇka Štamparija. Rijaset Islamske zajednice u Bosni i Hercegovini [Islamic Community in Bosnia and Herzegovina] (2012). Retrieved June 18, 2017, from http://english.islamskaza jednica.ba/education/madrasas. Sijamhodžic´-Nadarevic´, D. (2009). Samovrednovanje odgojno-obrazvnog rada u bosanskohercegovacˇkim medresama [Self-evaluation of education in Bosnian Madrasas].

Madrasah education in Bosnia, Herzegovina 243 Unpublished Master Thesis, Faculty of Islamic Studies of the University of Sarajevo, Sarajevo. Šukric´, N. (1988). Gazi Husrev-begova medresa u vrijeme Austro-Ugarske uprave (1878–1918) [Gazi Husrevbay Madrasah During the Austro-Hungarian Reign (1878–1918)]. In S. Bristric´ and N. Šukric´ (Eds.), 450 godina Gazi Husrev-begove medrese u Sarajevu. Sarajevo: Gazi Husrev-begova medresa u Sarajevu. Veladžic´, I. (2017). Gazi Husrev-begova medresa – 480 godina [Gazi Husrev-Bay Madrasah – 480 years]. Sarajevo: Gazi Husrev-begova medresa u Sarajevu.

14 Reform in madrasah education The South African experience Yusef Waghid

Introduction The transformation in madrasah education in South Africa1 has been, and continues to be, both reactionary and visionary vis-à-vis the political and social realities that have confronted Muslims since their arrival at the Cape in the mid-1600s. On the one hand, the reactive nature of change can be ascribed to madrasah education’s responsiveness to the political climate of state marginalisation and exclusion – to the extent of repression of religious freedom. And, on the other hand, the visionary attentiveness of madrasah education to the social realities of hegemonic racial and class patterns can be attributed to the creative ways in which Muslims have organised their pedagogical practices. Having mostly arrived as political exiles of the Dutch East India Company in the Malay Archipelago, indentured labourers from the IndoPakistan subcontinent, freed slaves from Batavia and philanthropists from Northern Africa and the Middle East, particularly Yemen and Saudi Arabia, as well as emissaries from Ottoman Turkey, these early Muslims established a culture of teaching and learning by rote or transmission in inter-subjective communities situated at their homes or mosques. That is, in response to their political, social and cultural repression, they began to organise themselves in home-based and mosque-based schools. It was only in the early 1900s that the first Muslim mission school was established during a turbulent political climate of state repression. In the mid-1900s (and specifically after 1948) when the apartheid regime ascended to power, educational exclusion reached alarming proportions through the state agency of segregation of schools – that is, the state forcefully categorised its citizens as whites, coloureds, Indians and blacks around the politics of own and segregated public schooling. The highly affluent public schools were meant for whites whereas state support for coloureds, Indians and black communities was minimal. It was during the height of apartheid in the mid-1980s, when anti-apartheid activists launched attempts of significant proportions to overthrow the state, that the first Muslim private school (known as Habibia College and now Islaamia College) was established in line with apartheid policy of own and separate schooling. Today, in post-apartheid Muslim society (in excess of 1 million people) there are at least 75 independent (private) Muslim schools, of which by far the majority function under the aegis of the Association for Muslim Schools in South Africa (AMSSA) with overwhelming support from Muslim communities and other donors and sponsors.

Reform in madrasah education: South Africa 245 In this essay, I shall firstly specifically highlight the pedagogical rationales and curricular activities that guided education for Muslims during the colonisation, apartheid and democratisation periods.2 Secondly I shall examine the implications of an integrated understanding of madrasah education for Muslim pedagogy.

Compliant transmission education For the reason that the unfavourable political situation during the colonial period in South Africa was not conducive to inclusivity and open-mindedness, Muslims organised themselves around religious activities in the home and mosque whereby they could, on the one hand, freely express their spiritual convictions in the forms of litanies (dhikr), prayers (salah) and supplications (dua). Prowess in the aforementioned activities in the sense of melancholic expressions or recitations and utterances from memory often implied that individuals (mostly religious leaders) were treated with dignity and respect as pedagogical authority was accorded by other Muslims on the grounds of their (religious leaders) having assumed leadership in expediting the aforementioned activities. Often healthy religious rivalry emerged as a corollary of which individual or group of Muslims could ‘best’ render religious expressions and utterances. On the other hand, Muslims arranged their patterns of religious conduct around the authority of spiritual leaders who were assumed to be intermediary shaykhs or Sufi masters between their conduct in this earthly world and their later eschatological success. What follows from this is that pedagogy was organised around the agency of traditional (religious) authority, and transmitted religious texts were mostly subjected to memory. Whereas pedagogical authority and transmission are not problems in themselves because often authority and transmission can give rise to defendable learning patterns, the problem with an excessive reliance on transmission is that it can only engender moments of blind imitation, dogmatism and rigid action. This is so because to consider only the views and perspectives of religious authorities at the expense of suppressing independence of thought can give rise to unreflective action. Similarly, an emphasis only on memorisation and rote can hinder critical voice especially in the face of constraining political conditions as these Muslims encountered. Nevertheless, education for Muslims during the period of colonisation was influenced mostly by adherence to authority and learning through transmission as is evident from the number of individuals who actually committed the Qur’an to memory. And so it occurred that much of the pedagogical activities in the home and mosque were shaped by memory and religious authority. In essence, home-based and mosque-based schooling represented the early madrasah, and education at this institution took the overwhelming forms of memorisation and adherence to the religious authority of the shaykh.

Critical consciousness as a response to apartheid hegemony Muslim schooling during the apartheid period did not escape the wrath of political intimidation and repression. The state’s apartheid military machine wasted

246  Yusef Waghid no time to quell any form of student revolt as is evident from the 1976 student uprisings which opened the world’s eyes to state brutality and hostility against any form of opposition to the state’s hegemony. Although Muslim schooling did not suffer the brunt of the apartheid military might, and some might argue that it was precisely because of apartheid that Muslim schooling managed to preserve and entrench its practices, it nevertheless became more and more suspicious of state intervention in public schooling and hence, its decision to remain insular as it feared state control and interference in their pedagogical affairs. Consequently, several Muslim private schools began to mushroom during the height of apartheid as Muslims hoped to remain unaffected by state politics and its reliance on state funding to run their schools. In the main, Muslim private schooling was propelled by a resistance to state politics that prejudiced only a minority white population. Hence, it would not be an exaggeration to claim that in establishing their private schools, Muslims not only showed a tremendous mistrust in the state’s interference in its curricular affairs but also developed a kind of critical consciousness related to the ideologically engineered oppressive measures by the apartheid state. In short, the Muslims (like the majority of the citizens) realised that they too could not remain complacent and docile in the quest to countenance the apartheid ideology of segregation and control. Of course some critics of Muslim private schooling argued that Muslims’ efforts to establish their own schools contributed to the state’s design of segregated schooling as the former schools were attended only by Muslims who remained isolated and unperturbed about the broader concerns of state repression (Walford, 2003). I do not necessarily share this view on the grounds that Muslim private schooling still had to implement the state’s curriculum and learners still had to write an end-of-year state examination in their final year of schooling in order to acquire certification that could ensure their pursuit of further education. But, it was the fact that Muslim private schooling could implement a state curriculum concurrently with a stream of traditional religious subjects that gave Muslim learners the edge in becoming critical of the apartheid education often couched as ‘gutter’ education for reasons that the local demands of communities were not really addressed in the curriculum. It is here that the critical consciousness of Muslim teachers and learners in private Muslim schools did not remain unnoticed as is corroborated by the fact that several anti-apartheid rallies and other activities were even orchestrated from the premises of some Muslim private schools even if it just meant that political rallies or protestations against the apartheid state were held there often supported and organised by politically minded Muslim teachers and learners.

On pedagogical autonomy and democratic citizenship education With the inauguration of President Nelson Mandela on 27 April 1994 (Freedom Day) and the subsequent revision of the public school curriculum through the promulgation of countless policy documents and acts, the culmination of the National Curriculum Statement (NCS) (2013) meant that South African public

Reform in madrasah education: South Africa 247 schooling as well as Muslim private schooling became transformative agents in enacting the new democratised curriculum. A new democratised curriculum meant that teachers and learners were to be initiated into discourses of democratic engagement that not only reflected the outcomes of the NCS but also the indigenous demands of particular communities. And, this meant that madrasah education had to become responsive to political, economic, societal and technological demands. For once, Muslim private schooling became a conditionally autonomous educational institution that responded both to the religio-cultural expectations of the heterogeneous Muslim community in the country but also most importantly to the demands of creating a new democratic society. The conditional autonomy of private Muslim schools is related to their implementation of the NCS as expected by the Ministry of Education together with their own religious programmes. In a way, madrasah education in the private Muslim schools represents a complementary relationship between what is perceived as religious education and national public education constituted by the attainment of critical outcomes such as critical thinking, deliberative engagement and respect for difference and plurality. Simultaneously, learners have to become highly competent and skillful to contend with the demands of societal and technological change. That private Muslim schools lived up to the expectations of a newly democratised educational system can be seen from the excellent learner achievements associated with most of the schools – achievements often considered on par with some of the most credible performances of more affluent schools in the country. However, despite some of the laudable academic achievements at many Muslim private schools, there is still the skepticism about these schools not really contributing largely to the cultivation of a democratic citizenry. Often criticisms against these schools (Thomas, 2006) are grounded in claims that they have become too insulated and elitist without meaningfully contributing to the democratisation of a critical public citizenry, and that the basis for the establishment of these schools during an era of apartheid could not, and ought not to be, the basis for their existence in a post-apartheid society. These criticisms levelled against Muslim private schooling are partially instigated by the fact that the public schooling system for by far the majority of the learners in the country is in tatters and does not always succeed in producing a critically minded individual that can contribute towards nation building and reconciliation in the country. And for private Muslim schooling to have become so elitist has merely perpetuated the deeply rooted inequalities in the education system the state so desperately wants to minimise. Some of these criticisms have merit as inequality and poverty are real societal constraints which erode the democratic aspirations of a post-apartheid citizenry. Equally so, to become oblivious of the broader issues in society is tantamount to narcissistic independence that does not augur well for the democratisation of the citizenry. In fact, even attempts at meaningful demographic (race and class) integration would further be hampered if Muslim private schools persist with their unintended polarising agendas, evident from the fact that most schools are attended only by Muslims – and Muslims from specific racial groupings. However,

248  Yusef Waghid to accuse madrasah education of not contributing to pedagogical advances and the cultivation of learners who can serve the broader South African society at large would be too unfair a generalisation. Many Muslims eventually serve the economy and contribute towards building a democratic citizenry after they have acquired further certification, albeit in the public or private sector. In the main, Muslim private schooling in South Africa has contributed to the democratic transformation of education in the sense that they are engaged in implementing the NCS although by expectation, or at the very least, variations of the NCS. And, considering that the competences and skills associated with the implementation of the NCS revolve around producing a highly skilled person instilled with virtues of reconciliation and nation building, Muslim private schooling is favourably placed to contribute to the achievement of a politically and economically conscious individual – those qualities necessary to function in a post-apartheid society.

Implications of madrasah education for teaching and learning in schools Now that I have offered a cursory account of Muslim private schooling in South Africa mostly focusing on the rationales of pedagogical practice rather than an enumeration of curricular activities, I would like to examine some of the ways in which madrasah education ought to be constructed by drawing on at least three tangible and interrelated aspects related to the genealogy of Muslim private schooling in South Africa. The three meanings of (madrasah) education I wish to elucidate in relation to teaching and learning are as follows: critical reasoning, education for the knowledge economy and education for social justice. Firstly, critical reasoning is predicated on the notion of madrasah education aimed at transforming society. This implies that madrasah education ought to have a democratic and liberating purpose. By this is meant that learners should be taught not to impose their views on others, but to engage one another critically and show that their reading of the society is one of many possible readings. That is, to practice critical reasoning is to recognise that there are multiple readings of the world with which people ought to engage carefully and critically. Learners are taught that their views and perspectives should always be subjected to critical scrutiny by others and that their understandings of events and situations in the world are not necessarily the only defensible ones. If the plausibility of their arguments can be justified, it should be exposed in the first place to deconstructive inquiry by others. Put differently, others have to be afforded opportunities to take one’s views into systematic controversy. Also, to have a single reading of the world is tantamount to advancing a madrasah education with answers as if ready-made, and prepackaged truth claims are constantly available for different understandings of the world. One absolute and hegemonic (dominant) reading of the world often results in marginalising the voices of those who might have something better to say. This notion of critical reasoning is in fact a move towards respecting plurality and difference – that is, the recognition that newer and more

Reform in madrasah education: South Africa 249 enlightened views are possible from even the most culturally diverse sector of society. Thus, for the madrasah to enact its public role, it ought to produce learners who can engage in critical reasoning – who can reflect on and engage critically with multiple issues and not perform as technicists executing decisions they have acquired expertly through the agency of authoritative educators who often remain uncritically attached to the dominance of traditional views. The madrasah that instills into its learners a capacity for critical judgement and an appreciation of the good life from the vantage position of the many would prepare them for participation as informed citizens in democratic societies. If this happens, madrasahs would become “important agents of the public sphere, initiating social change [for the many] rather than just [uncritically] responding to it” (Delanty, 2003: 81). Secondly, considering that my native country is an emerging economy already in partnership with global economies such as Brazil, Russia, India and China (together known as the so-called BRICS countries), it makes sense for madrasah education to contribute towards workers with analytical, flexible, communicative and technological competences and skills in order that learners can participate meaningfully someday in our changing economy and job market. Understandably, madrasah education ought to contribute towards the cultivation of learners to work in the emerging so-called ‘knowledge economy’. By implication, the rationale behind our madrasah curriculum is that it ought to become learnerand teacher-centred whereby teachers are required “. . . to deploy strategies to develop skills and attitudes [amongst learners] that encourage autonomous and cooperative learning, critical thinking and problems solving, research and investigative techniques, creativeness and innovation” (Balushi and Griffiths, 2013: 116). Hence, the madrasah ought to become more flexible in order to provide learners with opportunities for specialisation, for example, in science, ICT and social studies in conjunction with Qur’anic studies that would enable them to function in a wide range of contexts. The point I am making is that madrasah education cannot be about exclusively tested rote learning and memorisation. It has to, in a balanced way, be augmented by subjects or courses that assess higherorder thinking skills. And this would require the implementation of continuous assessment measures that would assess learner performances in a variety of ways, albeit through short written or oral tests, quizzes, performance assessment tasks, projects, portfolio work and learner self-assessments. In other words, learning by means of written examinations that assess how well learners have performed on the day of the examination should be minimised. Thirdly, madrasah education ought to embark on an unwavering commitment towards democratic action that would lead teachers, learners and policy makers to the realisation that inequality, poverty and human suffering are unacceptable at all times and in all contexts. As cogently mentioned by activist Paolo Freire: “Mass hunger, unemployment, side by side with opulence, are not the result of destiny. Nothing can justify the degradation of human beings. Nothing” (Freire, 1993: 93). In other words, a view of madrasah education in a country that continues to be hampered by massive inequalities, poverty, unemployment and

250  Yusef Waghid inadequate housing and sanitary facilities, especially in informal settlements, cannot be divorced from social justice. Social justice requires dismantling structures of oppression and domination, which manifest in exploitation, marginalisation, powerlessness, cultural imperialism and violence (Young, 1990). Applying this notion of social justice to madrasah education means that private Muslim schooling ought to pay attention to finding and dismantling social structures that sustain oppression. For instance, eliminating acts of oppression and domination in societies such as sexism, xenophobia, homophobia and racism involves dismantling the social structures and processes in which these violent acts manifest and not merely increasing the policing and security in neighbourhoods and schools (Eisenberg, 2006: 10). Thus, madrasah education has to be charged also with the task of equalising and expanding the opportunities for its learners both in terms of the jobs they might have access to and therefore the material resources they can hope to enjoy, and in terms of their role as citizens and therefore in terms of their cultural status, inclusion and political power (Eisenberg, 2006: 13). But then, madrasah education ought to engender critical ways of doing which focus on a politics of difference (that is, acknowledging that people are not the same and that we should recognise our heterogeneity) and which can lead to the non-exploitation, non-oppression and exclusion of those who are vulnerable in our societies. I want to come back to the argument that the degradation of human beings cannot be justified and what madrasahs can do potentially is to eliminate social injustices. Acquiring a madrasah education does not simply mean that a person passively receives predigested information without actively engaging with such information. Someone can receive information but fail to engage actively with it or as Maxine Greene puts it, to reach out for meanings (1995: 57). In such a case, a person cannot be said to be ready for learning, because learning requires a person to construct meanings, to reach beyond where she is or to transcend the given (Greene, 1995: 111). And, when a person has gone beyond the given, constructed meanings and found their own voices, she has demonstrated a readiness to learn – she has acted justly. In other words, following Greene (1995: 34), people show a readiness to learn when they do not just look at themselves as passive receivers of information, but rather when they demonstrate a willingness “to tell their stories, to pose their own questions, to be present – from their own perspectives – to the common [social] world.” When a person becomes concerned about going beyond the given, (s)he invariably wants to respond to other and different challenges that she might encounter. For example, a person who learns about the suffering of others not only imagines what others experience, but also how she might find ways to alleviate the vulnerabilities of others – to respond to others’ suffering. In this way, acting justly involves wanting to look beyond the given and to search for meanings which would be responsive to the experiences of vulnerability of others. Here, I specifically think of many madrasah teachers and learners who claim to have learned, yet do not even begin to wonder how their education could respond to – or as Greene says, awaken in them a ‘wide-awakeness’ – the

Reform in madrasah education: South Africa 251 fact that something must be done for those who remain tragically in need, who suffer deprivations such as family deterioration, neighbourhood decline, joblessness, illnesses like HIV/AIDS and addictions. Hence, these educators and learners have not shown a readiness to learn – to act justly and to respond to some of the conditions of those who might suffer vulnerabilities.

Conclusion In this essay I have elucidated in quite broad strokes some of the major conceptual changes that occurred in Muslim private schooling and by implication madrasah education in South Africa over a period of more than 350 years since the arrival of the first Muslims in the country. I have identified critical reasoning, limited rote learning, deliberative inquiry and social justice as touchstones of a madrasah education that can hopefully engender minds that are equally responsive to the politico-societal demands of an emerging economy as well as the cultivation of a democratic citizenry (with or without a Muslim identity). Most importantly, it is argued that critical madrasah education can be attentive to the waves of change that have become endemic to a post-apartheid South African society.

Notes 1 For a cursory analysis of the state of madrasah education in South Africa over the past three centuries, refer to Yusef Waghid (2011), Conceptions of Islamic Education: Pedagogical Framings. New York: Peter Lang. 2 As has been mentioned, currently there is in excess of 1 million South African Muslims out of a total population of more than 50 million South Africans. Not all Muslims attend Muslim private schools. The exorbitant fee structures at Muslim private schools and the often non-integrated parallel educational streams (albeit couched as traditional and secular streams of schooling) offered are often impediments for some Muslims.

References Balushi, S., and Griffiths, D. (2013). The school education system in the Sultanate of Oman. In G. Donn and Y. Manthri (Eds.), Education in the Broader Middle East: Borrowing a Baroque Arsenal (pp. 107–126). Oxford: Sympoium Books Ltd. Delanty, G. (2003). Ideologies of the knowledge society and the cultural contradictions of higher education. Policy Futures in Education, 1(1), 71–82. Eisenberg, A. (2006). Education and the politics of difference: Iris Young and the politics of education. Educational Philosophy and Theory, 38(1), 7–24. Freire, P. (1993). Pedagogy of the Oppressed. New York: Continuum. Greene, M. 1995. Releasing the Imagination: Articles on Education, the Arts and Social Change. New York: Jossey-Bass. National Curriculum Statement (2013). Curriculum Statements for the General and further Education Phases. Pretoria: Department of Education. Thomas, R. M. (2006). Religion in Schools: Controversies Around the World. London: Praeger.

252  Yusef Waghid Waghid, Y. (2011). Conceptions of Islamic Education: Pedagogical Framings. New York: Peter Lang Publishing. Walford, G. (2003). British Private Schools: Research on Policy and Practice. London: Woburn Press. Young, I. M. (1990). Justice and the Politics of Difference. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

15 Madrasah education and Muslim communities in Hong Kong Wai-Yip Ho

Beyond jihadism: ethnic Muslim youth, madrasah and China’s Hong Kong Muslims are often inaccurately identified as Arabs and people from the Middle East. But in fact, the largest Muslim populations can be found in Asia. The management of Islam has become a crucial agenda in many Asian governments. The transnational linkages of the madrasah, one of the most important educational, political and transnational institutions in the Islamic world, are becoming more significant in Asia, especially in issues of youth, education, child development, inter-ethnic relations and regional security. The role of the madrasah, therefore, has also become one of the key research topics in academia. Traditionally, the madrasah has been an Islamic institution where Muslims learn the Qur’an and where the ulama (religious scholars) are trained. Increasing global attention paid to the madrasah in the post-9/11 era, however, can be attributed to the fact that many policy makers and security analysts believe that the madrasah plays a major role in recruiting young Muslims for terrorism and brainwashing them with distorted ideas of radicalism. The madrasah is criticised for closing students’ minds by enforcing totalitarianism and for spreading terrorism by inculcating in young people anti-Western ideology. The madrasah is particularly criminalised as a potential site for breeding terrorism. Discussions of the madrasah in Southeast and East Asia, however, refute their connection to religious radicalisation. Analysts focus on various topics including the compatibility between modern and madrasah education, the role of Islamic education in a plural society, the bridging role of the madrasah with a mainstream non-Muslim majority and issues of transnational linkages (e.g., Noor, Sikand and van Bruinessen, 2008). This chapter specifically explains the rise of the madrasah in Hong Kong in the past decade by tracing the demographic expansion of South Asian ethnic minorities and socio-political transformations. In post-handover Hong Kong (post-1997), controversy over the rights of ethnic Muslim minorities has become a topic of concern in Chinese society. Growing academic literature and policy attention has been focused on improving the lives of socially disadvantaged ethnic minority groups of South Asian origin in Hong Kong (e.g., Erni and Leung, 2014). Mainstream studies and policy concerns

254  Wai-Yip Ho focus on integrating ethnic minorities into daytime public education and teaching them Chinese (e.g., Tsung and Cruickshank, 2011) while largely neglecting the rapid development of private madrasahs, perceptively coined as ‘housques’ by a journalist (Fenn, 2010), transformed mainly from home-based apartments, that cater to the growing need for Qur’anic education. Under the current inclusive education for ethnic minorities of the Hong Kong government, ethnic Muslim students receive modern education in conventional primary and secondary schools in which attendance is compulsory to all Hong Kong students. Only in the evenings do these students (mainly ethnic South Asian Muslims) attend the madrasah to learn to recite and memorise the Qur’an and the basic tenets of Islam. Their parents sent them there in the hope that they remain faithful to their ethnic and religious traditions. After more than a decade since the handover, Hong Kong primary and secondary schools have experienced a substantial increase in the number of Muslim youths. In an attempt to accommodate the ethnic Muslim children, the Hong Kong government integrates students of different ethnicities into the same schools. Ethnic Muslim parents, while not resistant to the daytime secular education as observed by the author, are nevertheless desperate to look for a sacred realm for their children to practice Muslim prayer and learn the Qur’an. With no formal madrasah institution to meet the increasing demand for madrasah education, how do ethnic Muslim students get to learn to recite the Qur’an and the basic tenets of Islam?

Visibility and traditions of Islam in the history of Hong Kong Hong Kong is a global city-state that has been under the sovereignty of the People’s Republic of China (PRC) since 1997, and now accommodates more than a quarter million Muslims. There has been a growth trend in the Muslim population in Hong Kong throughout the 20th century and continuing up to the present. According to government statistics, in 2012, the Muslim population reached 270,000, comprising 3.76 percent of Hong Kong’s population (7.1739 million), whereas the Christian community (Protestants and Roman Catholics) has 843,000 followers (HKSAR Government, Information Services Department, 2012: 317–318), comprising 11.75 percent of the population. In Hong Kong, Buddhism, Taoism and Confucianism are regarded as local and indigenous faiths. Even though Islam is the oldest foreign faith to have reached Hong Kong (earlier than Protestantism and Catholicism), it is perhaps the most misunderstood and marginalised religion. Islam as a religion and Muslims as a social minority have long been ignored by the public. It was not until the series of global (9/11 terrorist attacks in 2001) and local events (Hong Kong SAR government’s unprecedented proposal to develop Islamic finance since 2007, and the persistent appeals for greater concern to be shown to Pakistani minorities) that Hong Kong society began to pay more attention to Islam and the Muslim community.

Madrasah education in Hong Kong 255 After the 1997 handover, Islam as a global religious faith and Muslims as a local minority community came under the public spotlight and onto the political agenda. As media coverage of Islam and the visibility of Muslims have increased, public perception has likewise shifted, resulting in the greater inclusion of Muslims by the local community. Although it is a single Muslim community in Hong Kong, mainly following the Sunni tradition with reference to the religious jurisprudence of Hanafi and Shafi’i, the community itself has been pluralistically shaped by three major diasporic groups. Among the 270,000 Muslims in Hong Kong, 30,000 are Pakistanis, 30,000 are Chinese and 140,000 are Indonesians (HKSAR Government, Information Services Department, 2012: 318). There are also Muslims from India, Malaysia, the Middle East and Africa. Uniquely, the origins and development of Islam in Hong Kong have never been under the dominance of a homogenised cultural tradition. The triple traditions of South Asian, Chinese Hui and Indonesian Southeast Asian Islam have contributed their part in shaping the distinctive Muslim culture in China’s Hong Kong. The formative period of the community was first composed of South Asian Muslims’ arrival, driven by the British colonial power and followed by the arrival of exilic Chinese Hui Muslims due to the two World Wars and social unrest under Communist rule in the early 1950s. It is widely held that Hong Kong’s Muslim community has dual origins: first, the dominance of subcontinent Muslims and the second phase constituting the arrival of Chinese Hui Muslims. These two distinct groups hallmarked the formative period of Hong Kong Islam. Following the two World Wars and the subsequent rise of Hong Kong’s economy in the 1980s, there was demand for domestic helpers which attracted a huge number of Indonesian Muslims to local families; transient Muslim domestic workers comprise the third major Muslim group, which outnumbers other groups.

South Asian Muslims: pioneering Islam in colonial Hong Kong Often referred to as ‘Moors’, Muslims from the subcontinent have a long history of commercial links with South China dating back to the Tang dynasty. Tracing maritime Islam to early 19th-century Hong Kong, most were employed as Lascars (sailors or soldiers) by the colonial powers to provide protection for the colonial ships against sea pirates in the wider region of the Pearl River Delta in South China. From the 16th to the early 20th centuries, the rise of the Western imperial powers mobilised large populations of labourers from the Indian subcontinent. Though records show a temporary Muslim presence in pre-modern Hong Kong, the Muslim community’s roots were institutionally established in the period from 1841 to 1880 (Tang and Tian, 1995). In 1861, Britain formally took possession of the Kowloon Peninsula and Hong Kong was deployed as Britain’s military base in the Far East. Consequently, substantial populations of subcontinent Muslims from Punjab were recruited to serve in the British military forces of Hong Kong. They set up a simple temporary mosque in the Whitfield Barracks in 1896 for the British Indian garrisons (presently the site of Kowloon Park in Tsim Sha Tsui), which was the first mosque in the Kowloon Peninsula.

256  Wai-Yip Ho Subcontinent Muslims were also appointed as colonial agents, which resulted in the avoidance of any direct confrontations between British soldiers and Chinese subjects. They were important as British agents during Hong Kong’s formative period as a colony (1841–1917). This second generation of ‘local boys’ was successfully able to integrate themselves as members of Hong Kong society (Weiss, 1991). During the First World War, the population of subcontinent Muslims reached the highest in Hong Kong history. Apart from those who were there for military purposes, large numbers arrived in Hong Kong for business. At the beginning of the Second World War, however, subcontinent Muslims were relocated by the British government from Hong Kong to other military sites and many of them were sent back home (Ma, 2010).

Chinese Hui Muslims: seeking refuge in the South China Chinese-speaking Muslims – the Hui Muslims from Guangdong, Zhaoqing, Shanghai, Beijing, Nanjing and Northwest China – began migrating to Hong Kong long before the Treaty of Nanjing in 1842 at the end of the First Opium War. Though the earliest Chinese Muslims in Hong Kong can be traced back to the arrival of Muslims from Yunnan Province, it is believed that the largest number of Chinese Muslims were scattered around South China in Canton (Guangzhou), Hong Kong and Macau due to political oppression and social unrest. In the eyes of refugees escaping from the coastal and southern parts of mainland China, Hong Kong was perceived as a lifeboat in their pursuit of survival and security during the Japanese occupation in World War II (1937–45), civil war between the Kuomintang and the Chinese Communist Party (1946–49) and later during the chaotic Cultural Revolution (1966–76) after the Chinese Communist Party took power. Gathering together in Hong Kong as a community with the same Islamic faith, they drafted a motion to set up a Muslim centre, mainly for Chinese Muslims in 1918. Even though Chinese Muslims lived in Hong Kong long before British colonial rule, their low educational attainment and inability to speak E ­ nglish resulted in low salaries and social status which were hardly comparable to the South Asian Muslims (the ‘local boys’) who were brought in by the British. In the wake of World War II, when British colonial policy led most Muslims from the subcontinent to leave Hong Kong, the Chinese Hui Muslims became a majority in the Muslim community in Hong Kong. For many Chinese Muslims, the move to Hong Kong took place at the expense of their Muslim traditions. In a widely quoted article, a Chinese Muslim blogger lamented the fact that because of his family history, Muslim familial tradition and observations of past generations of Chinese Hui Muslims in Hong Kong have faded (Lei, 2010). He ascribes this to Chinese Muslim parents not sending their children to study the Qur’an in a madrasah and the exposure of families to the Western lifestyle and education in Christian schools. Although some Chinese Muslim youths still profess the Islamic faith, many of them have lost their Islamic roots and even converted to other religious faiths.

Madrasah education in Hong Kong 257 In the midst of the economic boom of Hong Kong society in the early 1970s (Mathews, Ma and Lui, 2008), the Muslim community faced a crisis regarding the preservation of Muslim family traditions in Westernised Hong Kong society. By this time, it is important to note that Chinese Hui Muslims had flexibly adapted and integrated themselves into the entrepreneurial culture of Hong Kong. One distinctive example is Kasim Tuet Wai Sin’s family; while enjoying career success in advancing China’s economic development, he demonstrated Islamic piety through his strong support for Islamic education. In the eyes of Hong Kong society and the Chinese government, Kasim Tuet Wai Sin (1919–90) was a prominent entrepreneur who played a significant role in the development of Islam in Hong Kong and a pioneer in promoting Chinese Islamic education. He was affirmed by the Chinese government authority as an ideal model of a Muslim believer in the Chinese discourse of Aiguo Aijiao (‘love one’s country, love one’s religion’) (Liu, 1993: 68–72), balancing patriotism and a Chinese expression of Islamic piety. To sum up, the challenge for Muslims in Hong Kong after the 1970s was to preserve Islamic traditions through family education and reviving Islamic education through encouraging Chinese Muslim youth to attend madrasah learning.

Indonesian Muslims: working in postcolonial Hong Kong Over the past decade, Indonesian domestic helpers have become the largest Muslim community, and the largest foreign ethnic community, as well as the largest foreign domestic workforce in Hong Kong. The Hong Kong 2011 Population Census revealed that 93.6 percent of the population of Hong Kong was of Chinese ethnicity, while 6.4 percent of the total population represented non-Chinese ethnic groups. The two largest non-Chinese ethnic groups in Hong Kong were Indonesians and Filipinos, mostly comprising foreign domestic workers, each representing about 1.9 percent of the population. Of the 270,000 Muslims in Hong Kong, more than half are Indonesian Muslim women who work as contracted domestic helpers for Hong Kong families. They are a growing community who play an indispensable role in the lives of many local families, especially in taking care of children and the elderly. Interestingly, the deep penetration of Indonesian Muslim domestic workers into Hong Kong families and the visibility of their headscarves have helped Hong Kong people to gradually overcome their xenophobia toward Islamic attire. They are the most distinctive Muslim community in post-handover Hong Kong and their domestic service has freed up local mothers, allowing many to re-enter the Hong Kong workforce. However, although Indonesian Muslim domestic helpers are large in number, they are politically weak, of low socioeconomic status and socially marginalized; some are even caged in fear, physically abused and financially exploited. Many Indonesian domestic helpers have less access to social and medical services than the rest of the population, and even performing prayer is not encouraged without permission from their local employers. With no support from the Hong Kong government, Indonesian domestic workers demonstrated in front of the

258  Wai-Yip Ho Indonesian Consulate at Keswick Street in Causeway Bay against the agencies’ ongoing financial exploitation since 2008 (South China Morning Post, 2008; Benitez, 2009). In September 2011, domestic workers unprecedentedly won a lawsuit against the Hong Kong government on the right of abode. The High Court concluded that banning domestic workers from applying for Hong Kong citizenship violated the Basic Law. The Court’s decision made domestic workers who have been working for seven years in Hong Kong eligible to apply for Hong Kong citizenship. Even if the Hong Kong government challenges the High Court’s decision by appealing to the People’s Assembly of China to issue a reinterpretation of the Basic Law against the domestic workers’ right of abode, the growing influence of Indonesian Muslim domestic workers means that they will never again be an ignored Muslim voice in Hong Kong society. In March 2013, Hong Kong’s Court of Final Appeal declared in a written judgement (BBC World News, 2013): The foreign domestic helper is obliged to return to the country of origin at the end of the contract and is told from the outset that admission is not for the purposes of settlement and that dependents cannot be brought to reside in Hong Kong. Faced with Hong Kong government’s denial of granting them permanent citizenship and exploitation by agencies, some Muslim Indonesian domestic workers have learned the power of public protest. Contrary to mainstream perception about Indonesian Muslim domestic workers being more submissive and obedient to authority, they have been organising demonstrations and taking part in other forms of politicised activism since the large scale anti–World Trade Organization protests (Constable, 2009; Lai, 2007).

Challenges of madrasah education: a growing community without adequate space In a television documentary entitled “The House of Islam”, which reported on the status of Islam in Hong Kong (Television Broadcasts Limited [TVB] 2011), Hameed Jalal praised Hong Kong as one of the top five countries where Muslims are happily accommodated. According to information from the Home Affairs Bureau of the Hong Kong SAR government, the population of Muslims in Hong Kong has grown to 270,000, a threefold increase in the population since the handover in 1997. Such friendly social environment and increase in the Muslim population in Hong Kong, however, were not translated into an immediate change in the institutional culture of Hong Kong society. The Muslim community has not been granted a public holiday to celebrate any major annual Muslim festival like Eid Al-Fitr (marking the end of the fasting month or Ramadan) or Eid Al-Adha (commemorating the willingness of Prophet Abraham to follow God’s command to sacrifice his son, Ishmael). Also, although Muslims in Hong Kong have the freedom to practice their religion in the city peacefully and even praise the government for its lack of institutional discrimination, lack of formal religious

Madrasah education in Hong Kong 259 education in the existing educational curriculum and the limited resources have created other problems for the Muslim community. Recent reports in the South China Morning Post highlighted a significant problem confronting the growing Muslim population, i.e., the lack of Islamic facilities (e.g., mosques for congregational prayer and Islamic schools for Muslim youths’ education), which are being swamped by the explosion in the Muslim population. Many Muslims are desperate for larger and better-equipped mosques. Most importantly, however, Muslim parents consider the scarcity of Islamic educational institutions as a principal factor in their decision to emigrate from Hong Kong to Malaysia, Indonesia or even Singapore, where Southeast Asian countries have policies to manage different religious groups. As of 2012, there were only five official mosques providing religious, social and cultural services – four in Hong Kong Island and one in Tsim Shau Tsui in the southern part of Kowloon. The Muslim-to-mosque ratio in Hong Kong is unimaginable. While there is one church for every 700 Christians (even many Hong Kong churches are similarly the house-churches), one mosque in Hong Kong is supposed to accommodate 18,000 Muslims. Obviously, the existing facilities cannot meet the current demand of the growing Muslim population. Although the postcolonial government has no religious legislation in managing different religious groups (Formichi, 2015), the SAR government recognises the needs of ethnic Muslim minorities. In 2001, the Hong Kong SAR government granted land to the United Muslims Association of Hong Kong to build a mosque and Islamic centre in Sheung Shui. However, this was grossly inadequate since it would be the only mosque in the New Territories where most of the ethnic Muslims (mainly Pakistani families) reside. Despite the financial support of the kingdom of Saudi Arabia and the Qatar charity of Doha, the pace of the construction was further delayed with the untimely death in 2009 of Mohamed Alli Din, the organiser of the New Territories mosque project. Consequently, there is no definite date as to when the construction project will be finalised due to the death of the project organiser and the subsequent Din family dispute on the construction project. The booming Muslim population without enough mosques to provide for their spiritual needs has forced some Muslims to appeal to the government to grant Muslims land in Hong Kong’s New Territories. As a result of inadequate space for the Muslim community in the New Territories, Muslim organisations are appealing for the urgent needs of the growing Muslim population in remote areas of the northern New Territories of Hong Kong to be addressed, particularly the educational needs of the Muslim youth. However, the present Hong Kong education policy of closing schools, due to the declining birth rate of the Chinese population, makes opening an Islamic school for Muslim minorities in the New Territories very difficult. Although there is an annual increase in demand for school places for Muslim students, they have no choice but to study in the Islamic Kasim Tuet Memorial College in Hong Kong Island. Many of the students have to wake up very early to travel to school from their homes in the New Territories. As well as the construction of Islamic schools for Muslim children, another urgent issue for the Muslim community is the need for more mosques as venues

260  Wai-Yip Ho for prayer and to accommodate the faithful. In a news report, Khan Muhammad Malik, the chairman of the Federation of Muslim Association in Hong Kong, estimated that while the Muslim population has grown fivefold in the past five decades, the number of mosques in the city has remained the same. He urged the government to set up community halls for the Muslim population, where they could gather and teach their children (Lee, 2013): There are not enough places to pray. There is always a big crowd. The children have nowhere to go. We could teach them better if there were community halls in Hong Kong.

‘Housque’ madrasah in Hong Kong: creative alternative space for Islamic education Although Hong Kong has been reported to be the most liveable city in the world with an excellent health care system (Li, 2012), uncontrollable price rises in the property market is one of the major factors that have made it unaffordable for many locals to live in the city. In Hong Kong, high-end flats rented by expatriates are the most expensive in the world (The Economist, 2012) and property prices are so high that homes are ‘barely affordable’ for local Hong Kong residents (Chiu and Cheung, 2012). As a result, one special challenge faced by the Muslim community is finding a large enough space for prayer, learning the basics of Islam and reciting the Qur’an. Impatient with waiting for the government to grant them land on which to build another mosque for prayer or another school for Islamic education, and without the hope of building these institutions in Kowloon and the New Territories in the foreseeable future, in recent years Pakistani Muslims have come up with their own creative solution to their predicament. They have rented many small private flats and converted them into sacred spaces called ‘housques’ for the combined purposes of prayer and religious education. The development of housques in Kowloon and the New Territories has been remarkably fast and they are scattered around many parts of Hong Kong: The increase in the number of followers and rampaging real estate prices are forcing Muslims to find alternative sites to celebrate their functions. In the absence of bigger spaces, this means having their prayers in a ‘house mosque’ – a phenomenon that has become widespread in modern Hong Kong . . . ‘There are so many Muslims in Sham Shui Po, but no mosque,’ says Zaheer. ‘That is why more than 200 people come here to pray every week,’ he explains. ‘The reasons for opening house mosques lie in the difficulty of finding enough sites for worship that would host the large Islamic population of the city.’ (Fenn, 2010, H06) According to official information from the Islamic Union of Hong Kong, there were already 29 housque-style madrasahs in Hong Kong by August 2010.

Madrasah education in Hong Kong 261 At a public speech delivered by Haji Ma to a group of secondary school teachers at the Masjid Ammar and Osman Ramju Sadick Islamic Centre at a public seminar on 9 February 2013, the chairperson of the Da’wah committee of the Islamic Union of Hong Kong confirmed that all recently established madrasahs, ‘houseques’, in the New Territories are, without exception, organised and run by the Pakistani Muslim community. It is noteworthy that the five major mosques also used as madrasahs are run by the Incorporated Trustees of the Islamic Community Fund of Hong Kong (ITICF) while other newly established housquestyle madrasahs are mostly managed and financed by Pakistani neighbourhood organisations and offer Qur’anic lessons for children of Muslim families in the northern New Territories. ITICF, set up during British colonial rule, has been the highest Islamic authority representing all Muslim organisations and sectarian groups in colonial Hong Kong. However, the rise of the private madrasahs or ‘housques’, which symbolises the emerging trend of Islamic transnationalism in Hong Kong, is beyond its management and supervision. With the soaring number of Muslims but with increasing difficulty of looking for physical space, Imam Tayaib Qasmi, the Sheikh of the Khatme Nubuwat Movement Hong Kong, was one of the first to see the pressing need to accommodate Muslim youth for prayer and reciting the Qur’an (Television Broadcasts Limited [TVB], 2011): If there is land like that of the Kowloon Mosque in Tsim Shau Tsui, I don’t know whether ten Mosques are enough . . . Now we have too many Muslims, too many Muslim children . . . we worry about the Muslim children. We open some Madrasahs as Qur’anic schools for them to learn the Qur’an and some basic Islam. The author’s fieldwork observation focuses on the housque-style madrasahs from three different Muslim sponsoring bodies – Minhaj-ul-Qur’an, Khatme Nubuwat Movement and Dawat-e-Islami. They are among the most active and growing madrasah movements with different branches in Hong Kong. This participant observation reveals that after the students finish public daytime schooling, they go directly to the madrasah and read the Qur’an for between one and two hours a day, usually from four to six o’clock in the afternoon. When asked about the curriculum of study, I was informed that the curriculum is to help students understand the basics of Islam and teaching them to pray. For Qur’an recitation, each student is assigned to recite every day in front of teachers. However, the progress of students largely varies and not all became hafiz (one who memorises the Qur’an). Despite the voluntary basis of madrasah education, the motivation of students who attend the madrasah is quite strong. When asked why they come to read the Qur’an, most of them admit it is an obligation in their religion. It is also an important book for their home country of Pakistan, although sometimes other South Asian, Chinese and Filipino Muslim children also attend these classes. The madrasah setting is co-educational but boys and girls are strictly segregated. Teaching in Urdu as a medium of instruction, imams and Qur’anic teachers are

262  Wai-Yip Ho from and trained in Pakistan. Interestingly, ethnic Pakistani students born in Hong Kong are fluent in Cantonese, although they speak Urdu among themselves. However, the Qur’anic teachers, who are trained in Pakistan and are hafiz with a Master’s degree in Islamic Studies, usually cannot speak Cantonese. Currently, communication between teachers and students are in Urdu, and reciting the Qur’an in Arabic. It is thus not unexpected that most of the students attending the madrasahs are Pakistani students whose parents respect the teachers and keep close communication with each other. When asked if they have concrete teaching goals for preparing students for the future, the Qur’an teachers said that they aim only to equip Muslim children to recite the whole Qur’an within four to five years and to teach them the Islamic essentials. The author interviewed a few Muslim adolescents, some of whom were already hafiz and able to memorise and recite the whole Qur’an after years of learning. They planned to seek higher Islamic education in Pakistan and in the Middle East such as Saudi Arabia. Ideologically speaking, the teaching philosophy of Islam and the Qur’an is strongly associated with the madrasah headquarters in Pakistan. When the Qur’anic teachers and students were asked about the differences between madrasahs from the different Muslim sponsoring bodies, students claim that they can freely move from one madrasah to another because teachers teach the same content the same way. There appears to be little ideological divide or sectarian conflict among the Pakistani-led madrasahs in Hong Kong at present. However, when asked about the funding source, they all claimed that madrasahs in Hong Kong are financially independent from the headquarter units in Pakistan; the costs are borne by the local Pakistani Muslim parents themselves and donations from active members and Muslim businessmen in Hong Kong. One of the madrasahs the author visited faced a monthly rental fee of 11,000 Hong Kong dollars. On average, the monthly tuition fees, which are considered as donations from the parents, range from 200 to 500 Hong Kong dollars. In contrast to the day school teachers’ encouragement for group discussion and critical questioning, madrasah teachers exercised relatively strict discipline in keeping students on track in reciting the Qur’an. Without a formal curriculum, students start by learning simple Arabic and progress to reciting a portion of the Qur’an six days a week, and attend the Friday congregation. In short, the Pakistani Muslim community dealt with the reality of too few formal mosques and how to cope with the social constraints by transforming rented spaces into ‘housques’. The uniqueness of the rapid expansion of contemporary madrasah networks all over Hong Kong is that the Pakistani Muslim community single-handedly took over their governance.

Conclusion: transcending the divide of worldly knowledge and spiritual piety Based on a historical review and the archives of the major diasporic Muslim communities in Hong Kong as well as the author’s interviews with organisers, teachers and students of the local madrasahs, this chapter suggests that South

Madrasah education in Hong Kong 263 Asian Muslims have been spearheading and grounding their madrasah networks in postcolonial Hong Kong. Faced with rocketing property market prices, and without institutional discrimination or positive state intervention in the form of land grants to subsidise the building of Islamic facilities, the Pakistani Muslim community has creatively established ‘housques’, making the transmission and preservation of Islamic tradition possible. While the Chinese Muslim community has integrated well into mainstream entrepreneurial culture, Indonesian Muslim domestic workers are politically weak in Hong Kong society and the Pakistani Muslim community has been viewed as ‘other’ in the postcolonial period. For Pakistani ‘local boys’ and the younger generations who have grown up under Chinese rule, teaching of the Qur’an is essential to preserve their religious and heritage traditions. It is perhaps premature to predict whether madrasahs will undergo further ‘ghettoisation’. In general, madrasahs in Hong Kong are tolerated and are not viewed as a breeding ground for terrorism. According to the author’s fieldwork observation and interviews with local non-governmental organisations, madrasahs also enjoy good neighbourhood relationships with the Chinese community. Although these non-governmental organisations and Chinese school teachers reach out to the madrasahs to introduce their Chinese and academic tuition programmes, they have little understanding of the Muslim community’s devotion to the Islamic scriptures. In conclusion, the trajectory of geopolitical development of Hong Kong engenders a unique madrasah educational culture. Presently, ethnic Muslim students have to face different linguistic learning environments in daytime (Chinese and English) and after-school (Arabic and Urdu), the dual curriculum in secular (daytime) and sacred (after-school), the differences between their parents’ high expectation of learning the Qur’an and the Chinese teachers’ high expectation on their academic performance. Although those issues appear problematic, Hong Kong’s experiment of creative reform in Islamic education has provided an alternative path of madrasah development, which demonstrates that ethnic Muslim youths remaining faithful to the Islamic tradition by studying the Qur’an and pursuing excellence in daytime secular education can coexist or at least happen simultaneously. In other words, Hong Kong’s experience in madrasah reform is to chart a new paradigm, enabling Muslim youths to embrace both worldly knowledge and spiritual piety.

Acknowledgements The research leading to these results has received funding from the People Program (Marie Curie Actions) of the European Union’s Seventh Framework Programme (FP7/2007–2013) under REA grant agreement n° [609305]. The author would like to thank the generous invitation of Mukhlis Abu Bakar for the opportunity to participate in this book project as well as the generosity and encouraging words from Christopher Candland. The author would like to acknowledge the inspiration, encouragement and support from the colleagues of Freiburg Institute for Advanced Studies (FRIAS), Greg Felker, Sonny Lo,

264  Wai-Yip Ho James Piscatori, Kimberly Chang, James Morris, Mirjam Künkler, Engseng Ho, Ulrike Freitag, On-Kwok Lai, Gideon Yung, Rev Desmond Cox, Irene Eng, Tim Scrase, Carl Lau, Anita Chan, Syuan-yuan Chiou, Jiajun He, Matthew Ng and comments from anonymous reviewers. The author would like to express his gratitude for the financial support for research received from General Research Fund, Research Grants Council of Hong Kong (GRF 2013/2014 HKIEd 842513).

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Index

Page numbers in italic indicate a figure, and page numbers in bold indicate a table on the corresponding page. 6 – 4–2 structure (primary-secondaryjunior college) 70 9/11 attack 22, 30, 174, 254 Abbas, Diwi Binti 11 Abbasid 4, 5 ‘abd (servant) 175 Abduh, Muhammad 8 Academies Act (2010) 79, 81, 82 acculturation 5 adab (decency and humaneness) 107, 120, 123, 175, 185; and akhlak (moral conduct) 190 – 1; in primary school 190 – 1; in secondary school 190 – 1; see also be-adab students ‘adalah 182 Ad-Deen 28, 29 advanced pedagogies and progressive assessments 157 Ahle Hadees 38, 45 Ahl-i-Hadith 52, 53 Ahmad, Albakri 11 Ahmad, Syed 26 Ahmed, Farah 10 Aiguo Aijiao 257 Ajlaf Muslims 38 akhlaq (morals) 120, 123, 181, 229 Alam, Arshad 9 Alam, Tahir 83, 91 Alatas, S. H. 25 al-Attas, Farid 106 al-Attas, Syed Muhammad Naquib 109, 110, 174 ‘alayhimus salam 184 Al-Azhar University 153 Albakri 71 Al-Baqarah 135

al-Faruqi, Ismail 106, 110 Al-Furqan, Birmingham 79 Al-Furqan Community College 91 Al-Furqan School, Birmingham 77 al-Ghazali, Abu Hamid 6 Al-Hadi, Syed Sheikh 18 Al-Hijrah (Birmingham) 77 Al-Hijrah School 88 Al-Hijrah secondary school 83 Aligarh Muslim University 38, 40 al-ilm (knowledge) 29 al-Islam, Shaikh 231 Al-Islamiah 201 Al-Islamiyah, Al-Iqbal 18 ‘aliyah 216 Aljunied, Farah Mahamood 11, 71 Allah 87, 110, 111 – 12, 114, 121 All Party Report on Chinese Education 67 Al-Madinah 81 al-‘ulum al-‘aqliyyah 204 al-‘ulum al-naqliyah 204 ‘amal (action) 121 amanah 186 American Life Project 21 Angkatan Belia Islam Malaysia (ABIM) 109 Anglo-Chinese School (International) 73 Ansar 149 anti-positivist 125 apartheid hegemony 245 – 6 appreciating life 185 Aqaid 238 aqidah 181, 182 ‘aql (intellect) 121 Arabic grammar (nahw) 18

Index  267 Arab-Islamic civilisation 4 Ashraf 38 Association of Muslim Schools (AMS) 76, 83, 87 Association of Muslim Schools in South Africa (AMSSA) 244 Association of Muslim Social Scientists (AMSS) 84, 86 Austro-Hungarian authorities 232 – 3 Austro-Hungarian empire 231 autonomies, Muslim schools in Britain 93 – 5 Avenue School (Brent, London) 77 awqaf (Islamic trusts) 50, 58, 61 awrah 184 ayat (signs) 111, 121 azad (independent) madrasahs 38 – 40 Azhar 2.0 subject groupings 170 ba-adab students 46 Badawi, Abdullah 110 Bakaram, Mohammad Fatris 153 Balaghah (Qur’anic Eloquence) 119 Barelwis 38 be-adab students 46; see also adab (decency and humaneness) Being and Becoming 67 Berita Harian 175 Bhutto, Zulfikar Ali 58 bid’ah 52 bismillah 138 Black and Asian Studies Association (BASA) 85 ‘black’ schooling 85 Bosnia and Herzegovina, madrasah education 228 – 9; from 1992 until today 237 – 40; Austro-Hungarian administration (1878–1918) 231 – 4; Gazi Husrev-bay Madrasah, curriculum 236 – 7; Ottoman rule (1463–1878) 229 – 31; World Wars and socialist Yugoslavia (1918–92) 234 – 6; see also Specific countries Breen, Damian 10 Brelvi Tanzeem-ul-Madaris Ahl-i-Sunna-wal-Jamaat 52 Breslin, Tony 85 BRICS countries 249 Britain, minority community 10 Britain, Muslim schools 76 – 7; argument for autonomies 93 – 5; civic inclusion of Muslim constituencies 96 – 7; ethnocentric curricula on Islam 90; form and structure of Muslim schools

91 – 3; good citizens 95 – 6; holistic education 86 – 8; identity articulations 82 – 6; low educational attainment 90 – 1; policy context 77 – 82; separation of sexes 88; specialist training 89 – 90; see also Specific countries British cultural imperialism 49 British education system 83 Brondesbury College 91 brotherhood in Islam 185 Calcutta Madrasa 37 Caliphs 4 Candland, Christopher 9 Cara Belajar Siswa Aktif 216 Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) 212 Central Madrasa Board 44 challenges, madrasah education 17 – 18; educational approaches, changing 18 – 21; influence of other factors 30 – 1; madrasah education 21 – 2; religious revivalism 27 – 30; traditionalism 22 – 7 Character and Citizenship Education 67 Chinese Hui Muslims 12, 256 – 7 citizenship education curriculum 67 civic consciousness 17 civic inclusion of Muslim constituencies, Britain 96 – 7 civilising mission 46 college (darul uloom) 50 Commission on the Future of Multi-Ethnic Britain (CMEB) 91 compliant transmission education 245 Compulsory Education Act in 2003 66, 73, 203 contemporary and contextualised learning materials 157 continuing professional development (CPD) 155 ‘converting’ Muslims 39, 40 Crick, Bernard 95 critical consciousness 245 – 6 ‘cross-contextual attraction’ 199 cross-national attraction 196, 197 CSIS see Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) Cultural Revolution (1966–76) 255 – 6 curriculum 25, 114; development 163; framework, Malaysia 178 – 9; integration 73; and pedagogy 10 – 11, 22; see also Specific entries

268 Index Dar al-Muallimin School 236 Dar al-‘ulums 3 darasa 2 dargah (shrines) 50, 58, 61 Dars e Nizami 37 Dars-i-Nizami 52; curriculum 205 Dar-ul-Uloom 50; of Deoband 26; shahadah al-aliyyah 51; shahadah al-thaniyyah al-khassah 51 Daud, Wan 107 dayah 210 deen 138 deen and dunya 151 deeni madaris 50 deeni madrasahs (religious seminaries) 38 deeni taleem (religious education) 37 Deobandi 52 Deobandi Jamiat-ul-Ulema-Islami of Fazlur Rehman (JUI-F) 58 Deobandis 38 Deobandi Wafaq-ul-Madaris Al-Arabia 53 Deoband madrasah 31, 37; curriculum 37, 38 Department for Education 79 Department of Education and Skills 92 (de)secularisation of knowledge 106, 107 Designation of Schools Having a Religious Character (Independent Schools) (England) Order 2003 78 desired outcomes of madrasah education (DOMEs) 172 dhikr 23 din (way of life) 123 Dini Talimi Council 39 Donnelly, Caitlin 124 du’a (supplication) 135 dual curriculum 18 duniyawi taleem (secular education) 37 economic competitivenes 70 Education Act 66, 73, 196; 1961 176; 1993 79; 2002 78 educational approaches, changing 18 – 21 educational deprivation of Muslims in India 41 educational reforms 11 – 13 educational “technicism” 20 educational technique of life 19 The Education (Independent School Standards) (England) Regulations (2003) 92

Education for Living 67 education policy borrowing, Phillips and Ochs’s framework 197 – 203 educators 139 – 40 Eid- Al-Adha 258 Eid Al-Fitr 258 Eid ul-Adha 183 Eid ul-Fitri 183 ekolah 213 encouragement to seek knowledge 185 enlightened moderation 49 ENSAAR Program 140 – 4 ethics (akhlaq) 18 ethnic minority children 85 ethnic pluralism 67 ethnocentric curricula on Islam 90 externalising potential 196, 197 fahm (understanding) 121 Faith-Inspired (STEM-focused) 158 Faith in the system 79 “false sense of self-sufficiency” 26 fard ‘ain 153, 175, 181, 183 fard kifayah 153, 175, 181 Feversham College (Bradford) 77, 91 financial insecurity 92 fiqh (jurisprudence) 6, 18, 24, 25, 26, 112, 181, 185, 196, 229, 238 firm believers, guidance 185 Focus group interviews 126 forbidden food, avoidance 185 Gatton Primary School (Wandsworth, South London) 77 Gazi Husrev-bay Girls’ Madrasah 237 Gazi Husrev-bay Madrasah 230, 236, 237 Geertz, Clifford 46 Ghazali 53 Ghazi, Mahmood Ahmed 53 Glasser, William 137 Goh Chok Tong 72 Goh Report 68 ‘good citizens,’ Britain 95 – 6 government-directed madrasah reform, Pakistan 49 government-led madrasah, Pakistan 61 ‘grant-maintained’ status 79 Green Crescent Trust schools 51, 53 Greene, Maxine 250 hadath 184 hadith (Prophetic sayings) 6, 18, 23, 27, 111, 183, 185, 196, 229, 238 hafiz 261

Index  269 haidh (menstruation) 183, 184 hajj 61, 181 Halal (Kosher) meals 84 halaqah (Islamic oral pedagogy) 23, 119, 120 – 1, 129 – 31; curriculum  122 Hamdard Education Society 41, 44 Haq, Zia ul 51, 58 Hashim, Rosnani 11 Hassan, Mohd Hasbi 153 Hasyim, Wahid 214 hawa 107 Hellfire 136 Higher Standards, Better Schools for All 79 hikmah 182 Ho, Wai-Yip 12 home-schooling groups 123 home-schooling mothers 123 Hong Kong, madrasah education in: challenges 258 – 60; Chinese Hui Muslims 256 – 7; ‘Housque’ madrasah 260 – 2; Indonesian Muslims 257 – 8; Islam, Visibility and traditions of 254 – 8; jihadism, beyond 253 – 4; South Asian muslims 255 – 6 “House of Islam, The” 258 housqes 3 ‘Housque’ madrasah 260 – 2 housques 12 Huizinga, J. 20 Humanist Philosophers’ Group’s (HPG) 93 Human Resource Development Ministry, India 44 Hwa Chong Institution (International) 73 hybridic pedagogy 72 ibadah 182, 183 ibitidaiyah 214 Ibrahim, Yaacob 70 ibtidaiyah 216 ‘iffah 182 ijazah 23, 36 ijazatnamas 230 ijtihad 27, 176 ilham 111 ‘ilm (knowledge) 46, 121 Ilmi (Express) course curriculum 167 imam 236, 237 Imamat 238 Imam Bukhari 185 Imam Muslim 185 iman (faith) 120 impulses 196, 197

Incorporated Trustees of the Islamic Community Fund of Hong Kong (ITICF) 261 Indian madrasah system 36 – 8; affiliation 45; curriculum 38; educational deprivation of Muslims 41; enrollment 42; financial resources 38; Hindutva tirade and 40; necessity of madrasah reforms 40 – 3; post-Independence period 38 – 40; reform, understanding 45 – 7; state-led modernisation 43 – 5; unrecognised madrasahs 39; see also Specific countries Indonesian education system 12 Indonesian madrasah, curriculum reform 210 – 11, 213; dichotomy and integration 211 – 13; madrasah curriculum 214; madrasahs and schools in 2011 223; new order era (1966–98) 215 – 17; old order era (1945–66) 214 – 15; reform era (1998–now) 217 – 21; underpinning factors 221 – 4; see also Specific countries Indonesian Muslims 12, 257 – 8 industrialisation 9 information technology 21 insider-outsider researcher 124, 127 Institute for Islamic Studies (IAIN) 217 Institute for Technical Education (ITE) 68, 69, 70 integrated curriculum 156 – 7; for secondary schools 177; Singapore 156 – 7 Integrated Fully Residential Schools 177 integrated streams of knowledge 113 ‘integration’ of knowledge in Islam 105 – 8,  113 intellectual transformation 1 – 2 inter-disciplinary learning 160 ‘internalisation/indigenisation’ 197 International Baccalaureate Diploma Programme (IBDP) 161 – 2 International Institute of Islamic Thought (IIIT) 135 International Islamic University of Malaysia (IIUM) 110 interpretive communities (maslak) 45 Introduction to Islam (Book) 108 IQRA Educational Trust 91 iskool 51 islahi (reformist) 45 Islam, Visibility and traditions of 254 – 8 Islam and society themes 171 Islam Hadhari 110

270 Index Islamia Primary, Brent 79 Islamia School, Brent, London 77, 86, 95 Islamic concepts 28 Islamic education 28; see also madrasah education Islamic etiquette (tarbiyah) 46 Islamic framework 28 Islamic jurisprudence (Fiqh) 221 Islamic law (the shari’ah) 5 Islamic modernity 8 Islamic Religious Council of Singapore 153, 196 Islamic Revolution and Its Roots (Book) 108 – 9 ‘Islamic school’ 51 Islamic School League of America (ISLA) 135 Islamic Schools Trust (IST) 92 Islamic sciences 112 Islamic seminaries 51 Islamic Shakhsiyah Foundation 123 Islamic Society of North America (ISNA) 135 Islamic Studies education (ISE) curriculum 11; philosophy of 179 – 81 Islamic Studies Placement Examination (ISPE) 158 Islamic Thought and Civilisation (ISTAC) 110 Islamic University in Madinah 153 Islamic University Malaysia 153 Islamisation of knowledge 10; attempts 108 – 10; human agency and authoritative change 114 – 16; integration 110 – 13; integration of knowledge 105 – 8; real integration vs. pseudo arrangements 113 – 14 Islamists 61 Ittihad Tanzeemat Madaris Pakistan 52 jahil (ignorant) 46 jama’at 230 Jamaat-i-Islami 52, 53 Jamaat-i-Islami board 52 Jamaat-i-Islami Ghazali 51 Jamaat-i-Islami Rabita-ul-Madaris Al-Islamia 53 Jamaat-ul-Islami 52 Jamat e Islami 45 Jamat e Islami Hind 38 jamia 50; shahadah al-alamiyyah 51 jami’as 3

Japanese International Cooperation Agency 61 Jawi 181 jihadism 253 – 4 Joint Madrasah System (JMS) 11, 154 – 5, 168, 201 K-12 system 70 kafir (infidel) 27, 38 kalam 111 kalam (theology) 112 Kalam and Aqaid 229 Karic, Enes 228 kaum muda 210 kaum tua 210 Kazaasker 230 Kelly, Patricia 84 khalifah (vicegerent) 175 Khan, Syed Ahmad 18 khatam al-Qur’an 186 khatib 237 Khomeini, Ayatollah 108 kitab jawi 24 kitab kuning 25, 176 knowledge-based economy (KBE) 199 ‘knowledge economy’ 249 Kurikulum Bersepadu Sekolah Menengah (KBSM) 177, 186 Kurikulum Tingkat Satuan Pendidikan (KTSP) 218 kuttab 2 langgar 210 Learning and Skills Act 2000 78 Learning Assistance Program for Islamic Schools 221 Lee Hsien Long 70 Lee Kuan Yew 67 Leicester Islamic Academy 91 ‘linguistic map’ of Singapore 66 litanies (dhikr) 245 literacy movement 7, 20 Local Education Authorities (LEAs) 83, 90 low educational attainment 90 – 1 Luke, Allan 7, 20 Lyndon, Dan 85 madad-e mash grants 36 Madani School 91 madaris 50 – 1,  52 madarsah management committee (MMC) 196

Index  271 madrasah 3, 177; shahadah al-ibtidaiyyah 51; shahadah al-mutawassitah 51; shahadah al-thaniyyah al-ammah 51; see also Specific madrasah Madrasah Al-Arabiah 71, 154, 201 Madrasah Al-Arabiah Al-Islamiah: course curriculum 168; Ilmi (Express) course curriculum 167; Mahari (Normal Academic) course curriculum 167 – 9 Madrasah Al-Iqbal 66 Madrasah Al-Irsyad 66, 73, 154 madrasah ‘aliyah 211 Madrasah Aliyah Keagamaan (MAK) 217 Madrasah Aliyah Pendidikan Khusus (MAPK) 217 Madrasah Aljunied 66, 71, 154 – 5, 201 Madrasah Aljunied Al-Islamiah 153 Madrasah Al-Sagoff Al-Arabiah 195 madrasah curriculum, Indonesia 222 Madrasah Curriculum Development Strategic Unit (MCDSU) 155 madrasah education 21 – 2; in 21st century 3; challenges 17 – 32; contention and conflict 1 – 2; critique 7; elucidation 2; offshoots 3; outcomes of 172; philosophy of 172; reforming 6 – 8; research on 22; revaluation 9; see also Islamic education madrasah ibtidaiyah 211 madrasah modernisation programme 43 Madrasah Saadiah Salihiyah 176 madrasah tsanawiyah 211; curriculum 220 Madrasah Wajib Belajar (MWB) 214 Madrasah Wok Tanjong 73 Mahari (Normal Academic) course curriculum 167 – 9 Majlis Ugama Islam Singapura (MUIS) 153, 163, 196 maktab (elementary Islamic schools) 2, 18, 40, 42, 229, 230 Malay Muslims 10, 69; identity 185 Malaysia, Islamic Studies education (ISE) curriculum 11, 174, 176 – 8; background 176 – 8; content 182 – 6; Education Act of 1961 176; Islamic education and challenges 174 – 6; Ministry of Education 178; National Registration Department (NRD)

175; philosophy 179 – 81; philosophy of education 181 – 2; principles and framework 178 – 9 Malaysian High School Religious Certificate 178 Mannheim 18, 19 maqasid al-Shari‘ah 185 masajid (mosques) 57, 138 maslak (denomination) 39, 53, 58 maslaki (denominational) tradition 51 mass-based online learning 19 matn 23 Maulan, Pasuni 153 maulvi (religious scholar) 27 McLaughlin, Terrence 93 Mears, Idreas 76 media literacy 20 Medina 52 Meer, Nasar 10 memorisation 23 – 4, 114, 245 Minhaj al-Dirasi (Shakhsiyah holistic curriculum) 119, 121 – 3, 131 – 332 Ministry of Education and Culture (MoEC) 211 Ministry of Religion (MoR) 211 Model Dini Madaris 49 modernisation 9 Moosa, Ebrahim 6 mu’allim (teachers) 236, 237 mudarris (teachers) 229, 230 Mughal empire 6 Muhajireen 149 Muhammedan law 37 Mujiburrahman 212 mukmin 185 multilingualism 67 Musharraf, Pervez 49 Muslim civic engagement 76 Muslim constituencies, civic inclusion of 95 – 6 Muslim educationalists 89 Muslim faith schools 10 Muslim identity 7 Muslim migration in Hong Kong 12 Muslim mobilisations 77, 86 Muslim schools 3; form and structure 91 – 3 Muslims on Education 84 mysticism (tasawwuf) 18 Nadwat-ul-Ulama of Lucknow 26 National Commission for Minority Educational Institutions (NCMEI) 44

272 Index National Council for Education Research and Training (NCERT) 42 National Curriculum Statement (NCS) 246 National Education 67, 200 National Registration Department (NRD) 175 National Religious Secondary Schools 177 national schools, Singapore 196 National University of Malaysia (UKM) 177 niyah (intention) 119, 127 non-bifurcatory knowledge 10 non-dichotomous knowledge 10 non-religious schooling 95 Nu’mani, Shibli 6 Ochs, K. 197 – 203 Office for Standards in Education (OFSTED) 77, 81, 87, 88 okru?ne medrese 234 Ottoman Turkish 6 Pakistani madrasah 49 – 54; curriculum 53; demilitarisation 54 – 5; government-directed madrasah reform 49; government-led madrasah reform 56 – 61; modernisation 55 – 6; see also Specific countries Pakistani Muslims 262 pedagogical autonomy and democratic citizenship education 246 – 8 Pendidikan Agama Islam (Islamic Religion Education) 225 Pendidikan Guru Agama (PGA) 215 pendidikan keagamaan 213 People’s Republic of China (PRC) 254 Persian Safavid 6 pesantren 18, 25, 210, 211, 212, 217; in Indonesia 23 pesantren’s curriculum 25, 223 Pew Internet 21 Phillips, D. 197 – 203 Playbill 149 – 50 policy borrowing in madrasah education, Singapore 195 – 7; internalisation/indigenisation 203 – 6; Phillips and Ochs’s framework 197 – 203 political incorporation 76 pondok 18, 24, 176, 177, 210; in South Thailand and Malaysia 23

positivist 125 prayers (salah) 245 pre-colonial madrasahs, India 36 Primary School Leaving Examinations (PSLE) 73, 158, 196 principles of religion (usul addin) 18 Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA) 69, 196, 197 Prophet Muhammad 3, 4, 5, 11, 90, 131, 137 – 8 PSLE-ready package 201 Qadi (judge) 230 qana’ah 186 Qazis 37 Qidwah (Teaching/Leading by Example) 119 Quadri, Habeeb 11 Quadri, S. Fatima 140 – 4 Qur’an 3, 18, 181; and Hadith 37; memorisation 24 Rabita-ul-Madaris Al-Islamia 52 Rabta e Madaris 38 Rabta-tul-Madaris-al-Islamia 52 radicalisation 30 Rahman, Fazlur 7 Rahman, Marghoobur 44 Raihani 12 Rais al-ulama of Bosnia 233, 234 Ramadan 258 recycled water for ritual purposes 7 reform-oriented madrasahs, Singapore 66 religion-ethnic culture distinction 87 religious curriculum 18 religious education, reform of 18 Religious Knowledge Syllabus 67 religious revivalism 27 – 30 religious scholars see ulama Religious Schools: The Case Against 93 revivalist 30 rhetoric (balaghah) 18 rituals and mysticism 25 Robinson, Francis 57 Sabir, Tahreem 10 sabr 186 Sachar Committee Report (SCR) 41, 42 sadaqah 185 safir (ambassadors) 46 sahabah 136, 137

Index  273 sahabi 138 Saleh, Abeer 149 Sanderson, Terry 85 Sarva Sikhsha Abhiyan (SSA) 43 Scheme for Providing Quality Education in Madrasas (SPQEM) 42, 43 school curricula 19 School Standards and Framework Act 78 ‘second-class’ schooling system 12 secular education 28 Sehalvi, Nisam-ud-Din 52 Sekolah Agama Negeri 177 Sekolah Agama Rakyat 177 Sekolah Berasrama Penuh Integrasi (SBPI) 177 sekolah desa 212 Sekolah Guru Agama 212 Sekolah Menengah Kebangsaan Agama 177 self-constructed identity 98 separation of sexes 88 Serijatska sudacka skola 232 Shafie school of law 26 Shahabuddin, Syed 43 shahadah 181 shahadah al-alamiyyah 51 shahadah al-aliyyah 51, 58 shahadah al-ibtidaiyyah 51 shahadah al-mutawassitah 51 shahadah al-thaniyyah al-ammah 51 shahadah al-thaniyyah al-khassah 51 shahadah al-thaniyyah amah 58 shahadah al-thaniyyah khassah 58 shaja‘ah 182 Shakhsiyah (Personalised Character Education) 119 Shakhsiyah Islamiyah 118, 128, 129; defined 120; Halaqah (Islamic oral pedagogy) 120 – 1, 129 – 31; Minhaj al-Dirasi (Shakhsiyah holistic curriculum) 121 – 3, 131 – 332; participant selection 126 – 7; practitioner research project 123 – 4; principles, pedagogy and curricula 119 – 20; principles of 119; research design 124 – 6 Shakhsiyah schools 3, 10; curricula 121; defined 118; holistic curricula 122 shari’ah (law) 5, 7, 112, 174 shaykhs 245 Shia 52, 53 shura (mutual consultation) 202, 203

Sijamhodži¿-Nadarevi¿, Dina 12 Sijil Tinggi Agama Malaysia (STAM) 178 Singapore, modernising madrasah education 11, 25, 65 – 6, 195 – 7; in 21st century 71 – 4; ability-driven phase 69 – 71; colonial inheritance 65; dialects 66; education policy borrowing, Phillips and Ochs’s framework 197 – 203; efficiency phase 68 – 9; internalisation/indigenisation 203 – 6; learning materials 157; medium-of-instruction 65; multilingualism 67; reform-oriented madrasahs 66; reforms in 8; survival phase 66 – 8; see also Specific countries Singapore madrasah model 152; advanced pedagogies and progressive assessments 157; contemporary and contextualised learning materials 157; curriculum development 163; history 152 – 3; integrated curriculum 156 – 7; International Baccalaureate Diploma Programme 161 – 2; Joint Madrasah System (JMS) 154 – 5; madrasah education, review of 155 – 6; pedagogies and assessments 160 – 1; revised islamic studies curriculum 158 – 60; student-centred educational pathways 157 – 8; student development programmes 162; successes and challenges 153 – 4; training and development 162; see also Specific countries Singapore-style school bilingualism 67 single-sex schooling 87 Sirah (biographical life of the Prophet) 181, 182, 185, 196 social change 9 social integration 76 social solidarity 17 socio-economic status (SES) 72 soul (tazkiyah al-nafs) 186 South Africa, madrasah education in 244 – 5; apartheid hegemony 245 – 6; compliant transmission education 245; critical consciousness 245 – 6; pedagogical autonomy and democratic citizenship education 246 – 8; teaching and learning in schools 248 – 51; see also Specific countries South Africa, migrants in 12

274 Index South Asian muslims 12, 255 – 6 Specialised Co-Curriculum programmes 173 specialist training 89 – 90 Specialized Development programmes 173 state-funded Islamic schools 82 state-funded madrasahs in Malaysia 24 state-funded Muslim schools, Britain 77 Steenbrink, Karel 211 St. Josephs Institution (International) 73 student-centred educational pathways 157 – 8 student development programmes 162, 173, 173 study, purpose of 125 Sufi teachings 26 Sunnah 5, 8, 29 Sunni Muslim faith 124 supplications (dua) 245 Surat Keputusan Bersama Tiga Menteri 215 surau 210 Swann Committee 87 syllabus, standardisation of 37 ta’dib (social activism) 107, 123, 175 tafsir (Qur’anic exegesis) 111, 196, 229, 238 Tahfiz 173 tajwid 186 taklid 26 Talbani, A. 28 talib (student) 46 ta’lim 123, 175 ta’lim (critical engagement) 107 Tan, Charlene 11 Tanzeem-ul-Madaris Ahl-i-Sunna-walJamaat 52 Tanzimat 231 Taqdir (Assessment for the Learner) 119 tarbiyah (spiritual development) 123, 135, 175, 202 tarbiyyah (socialisation) 107 tarih (history) 112 tashbih 87 tasmiyah 138 Tauheedaul Education Trust 81 Tauheedul Islam boys school 80 Tauheedul Islam Girls High School (Blackburn, Lancashire) 77 tauhid 181

Tauhid (monotheism) 196 Tayyibah School 91 tazkiyah al-nafs 174 tazkiyah al-nafs (purifying the soul) 120 teacher-dominant pedagogy 69 teacher-learner relationship 120 teaching and learning in schools, South Africa 248 – 51 Teach Less Learn More 70 tekke 230 theology (kalam) 18 Thinking Schools, Learning Nation 70 Thousand and One (or Arabian) Nights, The 4 “through-train” programme 162 Tilawah al-Qur’an 182, 183 Tilawat al-Qur’an 238 tok guru 24 Towards Excellence in Schools Report 70 traditionalism 22 – 7 traditionalistic pedagogy 22 tradition-oriented curriculum 69 Trends in International Mathematics and Science Study (TIMMS) 69 Trevathan, Abdullah 86 trojan horse 80 tsanawiyah 214, 216 Tujuan Instruksional Umum dan Khusus (TIU) 218 Ukhrawi (religious) 158, 201 ulama (religious clerics) 2, 5, 6, 7, 24, 25, 38, 153, 210, 216 Ulama Council 235 Ulama-majlis 233, 234 ‘ulum al-aqli 107 ‘ulum al-naqli 107 ‘ulum ‘aqliyyah (rational or acquired sciences) 174 ‘ulum Shari‘ah (Shari‘ah sciences) 174, 177, 182, 183 Umayyad 4 United Malays National Organisation (UMNO) 109 United States, Islamic studies curriculum in 135 – 6; abundance of materials 136 – 7; classroom, practical approach 138; English 144 – 6; intercurricular Islamic studies 144; Islamic education 139 – 40; positive thinking 136; Prophet Muhammad, approach of 137 – 8; Sunnah Swag 140 – 4; teaching and practicing 138 – 9; see also Specific countries

Index  275 Universiti Islam Sultan Sharif Ali (UNISSA) 153 Universiti Sains Islam Malaysia (USIM) 153 university (jamia) 50 University of Jordan 153 University of Malaya 177 US, schools in 11 Usul al-fiqh 229 vakufnamas 230 Values, Character and Leadership Development programme 173 Vocational and Industrial Training Board (VITB) 68

voluntary-aided (VA) schools 78 Voluntary Aided (VA) status 77, 92 Wafaq 52 Wafaq-ul-Madaris Al-Arabia 52 Wafaq-ul-Madaris Al-Salafia 52 Wafaq-ul-Madaris Al-Shia 52 Waghid, Yusef 10, 12 waqf 229 wiqafha 52, 53 wudhu 138 zakah 159 zakat 61, 181; market 40 zina 138 Zuhdi, Muhammad 215