National and international media have been frequently referring to certain institutions as “illegal madrasas” while reporting on the bomb blasts in Burdwan and the subsequent investigation process. As a consumer of this news, I am curious about how the word “illegal” is bandied about in these articles without any clarification.

If the use of “illegal” comes from a well-intentioned attempt at reminding us that there are madrasas unlike these, which are not associated with unlawful activities and ought not to be tarred with the same brush, the intent is  laudable. The word madrasa evokes immediate prejudices of illiteracy, atavism and reactionary mentalities in many people in our country. This knee-jerk reaction is not limited to the Hindu mainstream: it even extends to the Muslim population, most of which currently rejects madrasa education. This was exemplified in the recent naming of Aliah University, earlier the hallowed Calcutta Madrasa, as the consensus was that retaining the word “madrasa” in the name of the university would hamper employment opportunities of their students.

On the other hand, if “illegal” refers to these institutions’ lack of government recognition, it is instead a case of sloppy thinking and inadequate knowledge. To understand where this type of madrasa (as represented by the Simulia Madrasa which is under investigation) stands in the spectrum of state recognition, it is important to look at the typology of Bengal’s madrasas.

There are, firstly, madrasas that the state itself runs, secondly, those the state recognises and funds, and, thirdly, those that the state neither recognises nor provides any funding to. The last are not any more illegal than unrecognised private schools or private tuition centres, the unrecognised status merely implying that any degree they may grant is not valued by State institutions. Also, they identify as khareji madrasas , a description that serves more accurately than “illegal”.

The press may of course choose to see the institutions themselves as illegal, assuming that the freedom from state surveillance they enjoy makes them breeding ground for unlawful activities. Even if someone takes such a stance against unaffiliated madrasas, calling for a ban on security grounds, it would help to remember that security measures are otherwise supposed to err on the side of caution. Therefore, even while recognising the immediacy of the fear generated by a “security threat”, one should be wary of an ideology that leads to such radicalised profiling.

The current framing of the issue in the press does not highlight the powerful tensions between the demand for autonomy and the need for oversight in khareji madrasas. What might help in mitigating the prevailing bias is an overview of certain valuable consequences of this autonomy.

Their contribution to mass literacy:
 

Recognised madrasas are constrained by state-allotted budgets and roles that are also envisaged for other government schools: midday meals are given, uniforms are often subsidised for girls and investments are made to enable e-literacy of students—but no more. Many kharejis are in fact also community support systems that provide all meals, free lodging and free schooling for all or most of their students. The class of students who most often go to khareji madrasas (debilitatingly poor, orphaned) would otherwise be likely to have passed beyond the radar of Sarva Shiksha Abhiyan (as the opportunity cost to other schools for them would be too high) and ended up as child labour. The fact that state-recognised madrasas (specifically senior) see an influx of these students in higher classes is an indicator that these institutions serve as conduits to mainstream employment for many students.

Their social role: 

There is a tradition in many Muslim families of sending at least one child to a madrasa and their other children to schools. Apart from the intergenerational transmission of religion and culture, this practice responds to a social need for religious persons who will lead the ceremony in the community. It is important, therefore, for these people to have a deep understanding of Islamic texts. Recognised madrasas, in their attempt to balance “secular” and religious education, are often accused of the dilution of curriculum through their cursory treatment of religious texts and Arabic. As a result, the common defence of kharejis is that their focus on subjects pertinent to Islam is based not on a narrowness of vision about education, but rather on a specialisation to suit the parents’ aspirations for the child, irrespective of whether we share their religious worldviews.

Enabling democratic rights:

The desire of parents to bring up their children with particular values (unless proved indubitably problematic) and send them to schools that embody these values in practice does not violate any Constitutional statute. The Madrasa Service Commission, currently the system in place for recruiting teachers for recognised madrasas is a self-proclaimed non-minority body which does not limit recruitment to community. This is seen as compromising on the Islamic ethos of madrasas as it results in the appointment of many instructors who do not subscribe to an Islamic worldview. This is one of the reasons kharejis are deterred from desiring recognition.

The Sachar Committee report pegs West Bengal Muslims as the worst-off in the country. It is important to consciously calibrate one’s response to these recent events especially because of the enormous damage more prejudice could do to an extremely socio-economically marginalised community in the state.