When teachers become targets: Lessons from Emperor Alamgir
How do you process the nationwide attack and humiliation of teachers? You don't need to be an educator to sympathise with the several hundreds of teachers-cum-administrators who have faced mob-induced resignations. There is no shortage of video clips in this digital age: a young girl, maybe 12 or 13, along with her friends, grabbing her teacher's wrist to force her to sign the resignation letter; a young boy gleefully gloating that it felt good to slap "Dipon sir," or a teacher falling sick in the midst of the hullaballoo of his resignation demand. We don't know why the students turned against their teachers with such resentment. The timeline provides a glimpse as to "how" the events occurred without probing the question of "why" they happened. These images, however, are enough to spur copycat attacks and spread fear among possible sympathisers. It's not surprising that the deposed teacher's colleagues and guardians are often seen standing silent nearby.
Suddenly, it is politically incorrect to speak against students who have liberated us from the years of oppression. The men and women, holding onto those "powerful" institutional chairs, are considered enemies of the state or representatives of a decadent class that corrupted the system. We are witnessing a carnival in which our educational system collapses, unleashing the hidden demons. The situation is a reminder of Pol Potism, which promoted a socialist campaign shielding its communal and fascist agenda. Are the teachers really the stooges of the previous regime? Or, are they scapegoats whose removals are necessary for the aspirant opportunists to sneak in through the backdoor carved by student rebels? What have the teachers done to deserve this?
For all latest news, follow The Daily Star's Google News channel. As a teacher, I have my biases towards my peers. Those who know me well also know my sympathies are for my students. I do believe teachers pour their souls into their students, generate an intergenerational power to educate them, and transform their lives. If teachers do not feel that way, this profession is not for them. All of my teachers at school and in my family have moulded me into a better version of myself. I never regretted for a single moment choosing my ill-paid profession. I am starting to harbour second thoughts after observing the widespread disrespect and undermining of our colleagues. Where did we go wrong? Why are we so out of touch with our students?
Ideally, teachers are not just dispensers of knowledge. They are shapers of character and morality. The recent turn of events has either strained or severed the bond between teachers and students. On social media, many people are sharing an anecdote about veteran educator Abdullah Abu Sayeed, who resisted several pressures to admit a student from a powerful family. He steadfastly maintained his position, asserting that the student would never mature into a "proper human," as he had already lost all respect for his teachers.
Professor Sayeed's rare conviction and courage moved me when I first read the titbits. I was fortunate to have teachers like him, who instilled a deep sense of pride in my profession. However, after allowing the idea to thaw for some time, I realised that this is precisely why the student rebellion is happening. Our pedagogy remains entrenched in an ancient era, perpetuating the belief that students should behave similarly to the characters in Kazi Kader Newaz's poem "Teachers' Dignity," in which Emperor Alamgir reportedly chided his crown prince for simply pouring water without using his hands to wash his teacher's feet. The sanitised portrayal of the Mughal Emperor serves two purposes: to idolise the status of a teacher and idealise a system that promotes hierarchy.
But we get a different picture of Emperor Alamgir when, in 1628, his teacher Mullah Sahe came to him seeking a reward after his former student had secured the throne. Rather than meeting him, the Emperor penned a letter that Lincoln Schuster included in A Treasury of Great Letters (1940). Quite bluntly, the emperor rebuked his teacher for using flattery to highlight Hindustan, undermining the strength of various European nations. The "fine philosophy" with which his teacher "amused him" was "a multitude of barbarous and dark words, proper to bewilder, perplex, and tire out the best wits, and only invented the better to cover the vanity and ignorance of men like yourself." Alamgir goes on to add, "If you had taken care to give me the knowledge of what we are and what are the first principles of things and had assisted me in forming in my mind a fit idea of the greatness of the universe," he would have acted similar to Alexander, who revered his master Aristotle. Alamgir reminds Mullah Sahe that he never learned how to "besiege a town or set an army in motion," making his education unfit for the "duties of a sovereign to his subjects and those of subjects to their sovereigns." His parting words were, "Go, and return to the village whence you have come, and let nobody know who you are or what has become of you."
I notice a similar behaviour among our students who have turned the table. The students have tasted power at a time when they are transitioning from boyhood to adulthood. This is a time when normally they struggle for self-identity, desire independence, and harbour natural inclinations to challenge authority. To guide them to the next stage of their lives, now more than ever, we need mentors who have an understanding of the complex situation. We need academic leaders who will know how to stabilise the environment and positively channel rebellious impulses for a constructive overhaul of the system.
Teachers need to do soul-searching to understand why they are so disconnected from their students. The old format of a teacher acting like a sage on stage will not work. We must understand that our students can easily gather more information with just a single click than we offer in classroom lectures. We need to redesign the curriculum to focus on learning beyond classrooms and practicing real-life skills to make ourselves relevant. The media must help restore teachers' importance in classrooms. Currently, we use media, social media, and real-life events to normalise aggression and violence as a means of expressing discontent. They are promoting copycat syndromes, where students mimic violent behaviours they see around them, believing it to be an effective means of asserting power or gaining attention. In the shaky law and order situation, our students may internalise the belief that challenging and even humiliating authority is acceptable or justified.
Sadly, these isolated incidents of violence and humiliation are spreading fear and uncertainty across educational institutions. Teachers are demoralised. The educational system faces a potential breakdown. Immediate steps must be taken to support teachers, providing them with the right tools, respect, and protection. To paint all teachers with a single brushstroke will be suicidal.
Most teachers are quite dedicated to their profession. Some teachers may have even been unable to fulfil their role due to institutional flaws and overwhelming challenges. Several systemic issues, including politics, inadequate training, a lack of resources, and the growing complexities of student behaviour, exacerbate the situation. I can only hope the government will recognise the gravity of the situation and act to restore respect for teachers and authority figures. In the long term, we will need a national curriculum for comprehensive education. Right now, we need conflict resolution for students, better support systems for teachers, and a national dialogue on the importance of respect and discipline within educational institutions.
Dr Shamsad Mortuza is a professor of English at Dhaka University, and former pro-vice-chancellor of the University of Liberal Arts Bangladesh (ULAB).
Comments