For equality: The relevance of the Pasmanda Muslim discourse

 The Bharatiya Janata Party’s enthusiasm to reach out to Pasmanda Muslims has made the non-BJP parties highly uncomfortable. Although the BJP has not yet introduced any concrete policy framework to address the needs of the Pasmanda communities, it has been successful in exposing the unclear and overtly ambiguous attitude of the Opposition on this issue. The BJP’s appropriation of the Pasmanda question has also increased the unease of a section of the upper caste/upper class Muslim elite. These segments have offered a few normative arguments to explain Pasmanda assertion.

First of all, there is an old Muslim unity thesis that is evoked to explain the BJP’s Pasmanda politics. It is argued that the  sangh parivar  is interested in dividing Muslims into Shia and Sunni, Sufi and Deobandi/Wahabi, and Ashraf and Pasmanda to destabilise Muslim unity. This line of reasoning relies heavily on the traditional Muslim politics of minority rights that does not have any space for discussing the internal fault lines among Muslims

The second argument is a bit sympathetic. Acknowledging the marginalisation of Pasmanda Muslims in a purely legal-administrative sense, a section of the Muslim political elite argues that the inclusion of these downtrodden communities in the established framework of affirmative action is justifiable. The BJP’s Pasmanda rhetoric is seen as a kind of deviation from the real plight of poor and marginalised Muslim communities. This legalistic argument is often exaggerated to overshadow caste-based inequalities and derogative practices such as untouchability.

Finally, there is a radical assertion that the entire Muslim community is facing an unprecedent crisis of identity in contemporary India. Therefore, raising the Pasmanda issue at this point of time is not at all appropriate. It is claimed that the Pasmanda Muslim discourse has been systematically nurtured by the sangh parivar to highlight the internal weaknesses of Indian Muslims. Hence, there is no difference between the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh-supported Muslim Rashtriya Manch and the organisations working for the Pasmanda cause. 

No one can deny the fact that the BJP’s position on Pasmanda Muslims is unclear. The BJP leadership always claims that the party envisages castebased reservation simply as a legal-constitutional tool to reform Hindu society. For this reason, the party opposes the inclusion of Dalit and Pasmanda Muslims into the scheduled caste category. The BJP’s Pasmanda outreach, in this sense, might be seen as a strategy to pacify those Hindutva-synthesisers who do not fully subscribe to the party’s radical anti-Muslim rhetoric. 

Two questions become crucial here. What is the relevance of the Pasmanda discourse in today’s India, especially when the public discourse is completely communalised and Hindus and Muslims have emerged as political identities? Should we treat the Pasmanda question merely as an internal matter of the Muslim community and stop talking about it in the name of Muslim unity?

In order to answer these questions, we must highlight three crucial aspects of the Pasmanda discourse: its capacity to explain the nature of Muslim sociological heterogeneity; its demand for complete secularisation of the affirmative action framework in India; and, finally, its adherence to the politics of social justice.

The term, ‘Pasmanda’, was coined by Ali Anwar Ansari, the former parliamentarian and leader of the Pasmanda Muslim Mahaz, in his book, Masawat ki Jung. Here, Pasmanda refers to a group of people who lag behind or could not maintain the pace of progress. In this sense, Pasmanda is a caste and religion-neutral concept, which tries to accommodate various forms of social stratification in its folds.

It is worth noting here that there is a hierarchical structure of Muslim caste-groups in India, especially in the northern and the western states. The foreign-origin Muslim groups, which preferred to called themselves Ashrafs (noble_born), became the upper caste, while the converted communities, the Ajlafs (lowly) and the Arzals (excluded), turned out to be the lower castes in this schema.

The Pasmanda discourse makes a serious attempt to redefine this categorisation. It questions Ashraf hegemony by highlighting the fact that Islam is an egalitarian religion that does not permit caste division (or, for that matter, any form of social stratification). At the same time, the non-Ashraf communities are described as Pasmanda Muslims and Dalit Muslims, respectively, to assert their dignified social existence as Islamic communities. This conceptual reworking expands the scope of the Pasmanda discourse and empowers it to accommodate those forms of social stratification that do not fit in the conventional Ashraf-Ajlaf-Arzal framework.

This brings us to the question of the secularisation of affirmative action policies. The Pasmanda groups  problematise the communal nature of the SC category. It is well-known that Dalit Muslims and Dalit Christians are not entitled to receive the benefits of SC reservation. The Pasmanda intellectuals, especially Ansari, make a threefold argument in this regard. It is demanded that the SC category needs to be completely secularised to include all Dalit communities, including Muslims and Christians. At the same time, the need to increase the quota for SC reservation is also recognised to avoid probable internal contestation amongst the disadvantaged groups. Finally, the demand for reservation in the private sector is reiterated by underlining the adverse impacts of the privatisation of the economy on Pasmanda artisan communities.

The adherence of the Pasmanda political discourse to social justice and economic equality without deviating from constitutional secularism is rather exceptional. Pasmanda politics, in this sense, is still guided by the constitutional ideals of justice and equality. The popular slogan used by Pasmanda groups in their pamphlets and rallies, “Dalit  pichda  ek saman,  Hindu ho ya Musalman (Dalit and backwards are the same, whether they Hindu or Muslim)”, highlights the fact that secularism of equality and justice is politically achievable.

In his famous book, Pakistan or the Partition of India, B.R. Ambedkar makes an interesting observation about the lack of social reforms among Muslims. He notes, “… the reason for the absence of the spirit of change in the Indian Musalman is to be sought in the peculiar position he occupies in India. He is placed in a social environment which is predominantly Hindu. That Hindu environment is always… encroaching upon him. He feels that it is de-musalmanizing him. As a protection against this… he is led to insist on preserving everything that is Islamic without caring to examine whether it is helpful or harmful to his society.” (http://www.columbia. edu/itc/ mealac/pritchett/00ambedkar/ ambedkar_partition/).

The Pasmanda discourse, it seems, follows the advice given to Muslims by Ambedkar. It questions the unethical social practices and, at the same time, demands justice and dignity.

Hilal Ahmed is Associate Professor, CSDS, New Delhi

Source: The Telegraph, 23/03/23

Shared unbelonging: The burden of being Muslim is global

 Being a Muslim anywhere in Asia is no passport to a bed of roses. Not even in the continent’s Muslim-majority lands. Thus, in mostly Shia Iran, twenty-three-year-old Mohsen Shekari was hanged in Tehran in December for allegedly injuring a member of the official militia while protesting the death in September of a young woman, Mahsa Amini, who had objected to the regime’s stern dress code for women. Amini and Shekari are only two among the many Iranians who’ve paid a heavy price for little more than expressing their opinion.

In Iran’s Sunni-majority neighbour Afghanistan, a recently imposed ban on university education for women drove a young university lecturer identified as Ismail Mashal to rip his certificates into pieces before a TV audience. “If my mother and sister cannot study,” declared the lecturer, “then I do not accept this education.” How Taliban-ruled Afghanistan can rejoin the world community and begin to lighten its citizens’ burdens is hard to picture at this point.

In fact, it is hard today to identify many Asian nations where the average Muslim feels proud and secure. While Bangladesh, which holds the fourth-largest Muslim population in the world, has seen impressive progress in literacy, health, and per capita income, there are solid questions about that country’s democracy.

Containing more Muslims at this point than any other country, Indonesia headed the G20 assemblage until the end of last year, when the baton was handed to India. Holding national elections regularly from 1999, and possessing significant, though depleting, reserves of oil, Indonesia is ranked 52 in the Democracy Index maintained by an organisation linked to the British journal of historic standing, The Economist.  While recognising that an index of this kind must have imperfections, we may nonetheless note that this Democracy Index places Malaysia 39th  in the world. India is ranked at 46, Singapore at 66, Sri Lanka at 67, Bangladesh at 75, Bhutan at 81, Nepal at 101, Pakistan at 104, and China at 148. (Norway is placed first.)

Two Buddhist countries that lie very close to India, Myanmar and Sri Lanka, have, in recent years, witnessed the promotion of anti-Muslim drives, while Myanmar has, in addition, seen merciless attacks on dissenters of every kind. As for our own land, the deepening anxieties of India’s Muslims are known to many of their non-Muslim compatriots, who, of course, form the great majority. Most Muslims in India remain prudently silent about their worries, but on occasion a frank remark escapes their lips.

“Find jobs abroad and, if possible, take citizenships there.” This is what the Rashtriya Janata Dal’s Abdul Bari Siddiqui, a former Bihar minister, is reported to have told his son studying in the United States of America as also his daughter studying in London. In a widely seen video, Siddiqui adds that his son and daughter “would not be able to cope in today’s India”. Siddiqui’s unmistakable allusion was to the hostility that many of India’s Muslims appear to confront at this time.

Some found his words unpalatable and provocative.  Nikhil Anand, a Bharatiya Janata Party spokesman in Bihar, commented: “Siddiqui’s remarks are anti-India. If he is feeling so stifled, he should… move to Pakistan. Nobody will stop him.” Several TV channels aired the Siddiqui video and the BJP’s response.

Was Siddiqui’s remark really that outrageous? Haven’t millions of Hindu fathers and mothers in India also said to a son or daughter,  ‘Find a job abroad and, if possible, take citizenship there?’  Doesn’t the government of India proudly advertise its efforts to enlarge the quotas that rich countries set for visas for young Indians for study and also for long-term employment?

Moreover, why would Siddiqui or any Indian Muslim wish to go to Pakistan? The economy there seems to be sinking. Politicians are at war with one another and, at this point, the Pakistan army doesn’t seem to know whether or when to assume direct control, something it has periodically done. Top military leaders have been accused of amassing vast fortunes. The province of Balochistan is home to insurgency and repression. Inside Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa or KPK (the former ‘Frontier Province’), the Taliban’s takeover of Afghanistan has strengthened extremist groups. And Pakistan’s Christian and Hindu minorities, the latter concentrated in Sindh Province, seem as insecure as ever.

It is, in fact, an open secret that countries like the US, the United Kingdom, Germany, a few other European nations, Canada, Australia, and New Zealand offer greater personal security and liberty to Muslims than most Muslimmajority lands. It wasn’t very long ago that India too could claim itself as a place where Muslims felt safe, but the picture has changed quite dramatically.

At this time, when China’s drive to become the next superpower has run into serious hurdles, India still has the opportunity to return in the world’s mind as democracy’s hope. However, that challenge does not attract our energy and passion today. We want, above all, to persuade ourselves, with scant evidence, that ‘the world is finally recognising India’s greatness’. Acknowledging the anxieties of our Muslim brothers and sisters is the last thing on the minds of our land’s most influential men and women.

This means that the responsibility cast on the shoulders of India’s Muslims is immense. With much of the Muslim world in ugly disarray, with their Hindu compatriots focused elsewhere and indifferent when they are not antagonistic, what can India’s Muslims do? Going abroad is an option for only a handful of them.

In a dream scenario, India’s Muslims would fight their way back to real equality with their Hindu compatriots, and they would do so with fraternity, courage, and wisdom. By doing this, they would also offer hope to India’s neighbours and to the entire Muslim world.

However, we live  not in a dateless dream world but in the India that exists at the start of 2023. Moreover, even in a dream, it would be unfair to ask an apprehensive minority to lead a journey towards trust and partnership.

Yet one thing is certain. It is the inalienable right of any and every Indian to fight for dignity, equality, and liberty, and, simultaneously, offer fraternity to his or her compatriots. A Muslim Indian’s right to do this is not less than that of a Hindu. Not one nanogram less.

Rajmohan Gandhi

Source: The Telegraph, 31/01/23

Assam’s Muslims: why some have been declared ‘indigenous’ and some left out

 Last week, the Assam Cabinet approved the identification of five Assamese Muslim sub-groups — Goriya, Moriya, Julha, Deshi, and Syed — as “indigenous” Assamese Muslim communities. This effectively sets them apart from Bengali-speaking Muslims, who — or whose ancestors — had migrated at various points of time the region that was once East Bengal, and later became East Pakistan and now Bangladesh.

How many Muslim groups live in Assam?

While many sub-groups exist, this aspect of population dynamics is best understood by looking at Muslims of Assam as belonging to two broad categories. Muslims outside these two categories would account for very small numbers relative to Assam’s large Muslim population. The larger of these two categories comprises Muslims who speak Bengali, or whose roots lie in Bengal, and who settled in Assam at various times after undivided Assam was annexed to British India in 1826. These Muslims are often referred to as Miyas.

The numerically smaller broad category comprises the “Assamese Muslims”, who speak Assamese as their mother tongue, and who trace their ancestries in Assam back to the Ahom kingdom (1228-1826). By and large, they see themselves as part of the larger Assamese-speaking community, together with Assamese Hindus, and many of them are very conscious about being distinct from Bengal-origin Muslims.

“Assam has a significant Muslim population. Within that, there is a section that has migrated to Assam at different points of time. However, there are certain Muslim groups, too, who are native to the state, and have long agitated to safeguard their cultural identity. We have recognised their struggle, and identified these groups as ‘indigenous’ or khilonjiya Assamese Muslims,” Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma said following the Cabinet decision.

And what are these groups?

These are described in the report of a sub-committee on ‘Cultural identity of indigenous Assamese Muslims’ constituted by the state government in July last year. It was on the basis of the report of this committee, headed by journalist and commentator Wasbir Hussain, that the Cabinet took its decision on the five sub-groups.

DESHI: Believed to be among the first batch of people in Assam to have embraced Islam, Deshis trace their lineage to Ali Mech, a Koch-Rajbongshi chieftain who converted to Islam during the invasion of Bakhtiyar Khilji around 1205 AD.

SYED: Sufi preachers settled in Assam at various times, the earliest by some accounts being Syed Badiuddin Shah Mada (Madan Pir) in 1497, and the best known being Syed Moinuddin Baghdadi (Azaan Pir or Azaan Fakir) around 1630. The Syed community comprises descendants of their followers.

GORIYA: In a series of attempted invasions by the Mughals between 1615 and 1682, the Ahom regime took several soldiers prisoner. Many of these belonged to Gaur in ancient Bengal, and hence got the name Goriya. “These people settled in Assam and married local women and gradually became a part of the Assamese society,” the report says. It also mentions tribals/Hindus who converted to Islam during Azaan Pir’s time; they too became subsequently known as Goriya.

MORIYA: These too are descendants of prisoners of war, captured by the Ahoms after an attempted invasion by Turbak Khan in the 16th century. They “took to working in brass, an occupation which their descendants, who are known as Moriyas, carry on to this day”, the British historian Edward Gait wrote in 1933 (A History of Assam).

JULHA: A small community, originally from undivided Bihar, Odisha and West Bengal, and believed to be converts from Adivasis. They migrated to Assam in two phases: as weavers during the Ahom regime, and as tea garden workers brought by British tea planters in the 19th century. Julha is listed as an MOBC community in Assam.

Prominent Assamese Muslims through history include the navy general Bagh Hazarika who fought under the Ahom general Lachit Borphukan against Mughal invaders in 1671; Sir Syed Muhammad Saadulla, Assam’s first prime minister during colonial rule; the 20th-century poet Syed Abdul Malik; and India’s late President Fakhruddin Ali Ahmed.

What are their numbers?

The census of 2011 counted 1.06 crore Muslims (34%) in Assam out of a population of 3.12 crore, but does not record a break-up by ethnicity. The sub-committee report to the Assam government puts the current Muslim population at 1.18 crore, out of which it estimates the five “indigenous” groups at 42 lakh. That implies that out of every 3 Muslims in Assam, 1 is “indigenous”. Of these 42 lakh, the report estimates the Deshis at 20 lakh, and the Moriyas at 2 lakh.

So, who are not “indigenous” as per the report?

The omission of the Bengali-origin Muslims, or Miyas, is apparent. But the definition also leaves out at least one Muslim group with a long history in Assam. In south Assam’s Barak Valley, dominated by Bengali-speaking Hindus and Muslims, there is also a group called Kachari Muslims, who trace their origins to the Kachari kingdom (13th century to 1832). They consider themselves distinct from the Muslims who migrated from East Bengal.

Atiqur Rahman Barbhuyan, president, Society for Indigenous Muslims of Barak Valley, called the Cabinet decision a “great injustice” to the Muslims of Barak Valley. “Our ancestry is not of migrant origin. Our history goes back to the 1600s,” he said, adding that he had made a presentation to the committee before it filed its report.

What is the point of this exercise?

The demand came from within the community itself. In a state whose history and politics have been shaped by migration, some Assamese-speaking groups and individuals have long sought to be identified as distinct from the Bengali-speaking Muslims.

Assamese Muslims “are bracketed as Muslims, along with the Bengali-speaking Muslims”, the report says, citing “…the lack of a separate identity bestowed upon the Assamese Muslims”.

Apart from recognition as indigenous, the report recommends greater political representation including reservation of a Rajya Sabha seat, reservation in jobs, and various measures for preservation of Assam Muslim culture.

How do Muslim groups feel about it?

The All Assam Goriya-Moriya Deshi Parishad welcomed the move. Its president Hafizul Ahmed said Assamese Muslims were “losing their identity” because they were often clubbed with the “Bengali Muslim migrant community”. “Since we have similar sounding names, it is easy to confuse us but our culture and history is very different,” he said.

Others are concerned that the move would lead to further marginalisation of Bengali-origin Muslims. AIUDF MLA Aminul Islam earlier told The Indian Express that the panel’s proposals were part of a “political rhetoric” to “isolate Bengali Muslims further”.

Yasmin Saikia, professor of history and endowed chair in peace studies at Arizona State University described the move as “shortsighted”. “To me, as an Assamese humanist, it is very sad. The labels given to various Muslims are a strategy to divide the Muslim community,” she said. “If the aim of this move was to improve the socio-economic status of Muslims in Assam, why neglect a chunk of them? Identifying a tiny group within a group, giving them identity cards and certificates is unlikely to serve any purpose. In fact, it will lead to more vulnerability, greater socio-economic problems, and more antisocial elements,” she said.

Written by Kabir Firaque , Tora Agarwala

Source: Indian Express, 13/07/22

Why caste among Muslims must be studied

 For the last two decades, the Indian public sphere has seen a slow but steady rise in discussions on caste among Muslims. A series of events has contributed to this: The influence of Mandal politics on Muslim organisations and the coming together of lower caste Muslim groups in Maharashtra, as well as in Bihar and Uttar Pradesh under the banner of “Pasmanda” (“left behind”); the commissioning of the Sachar Committee and Ranganath Misra Commission reports by the UPA government; and a rise in academic scholarship on several aspects of caste among Muslims.

The realisation that Muslims too are affected by caste has far-reaching effects: It has the potential to unravel how Muslims and “Muslim issues” are seen in India, most notably by those who claim to represent them. Scholars have pointed out that most Muslims of India belong to backward castes. Imtiaz Ahmed and Khalid Ansari have put the figure at 85 per cent — a number which, if accurate, would show several “Muslim issues”, including low socio-economic indicators, as first arising from caste factors.

However, the lack of data has affected comprehensive studies and claims on Muslim caste and their socio-economic backwardness. To start with, there is no reliable recent estimate of the proportion of Muslim caste groups across the nation. Data from the 1871 census suggests a ratio of around 19 per cent upper caste to 81 per cent lower caste Muslims. However, the Sachar Committee report put the figure of lower caste Muslims at 40 per cent of the Muslim population, based on NSSO data. The Mandal Commission report also put it at only 52 per cent (though it did not calculate the Dalit Muslim population).

The discontinuation of counting caste in the Census after independence (except for Scheduled Castes) has affected the understanding of the status of communities and castes across India. But in the case of Muslims — where the presence of caste itself is too easily denied by the state and elite Muslim representatives’ “egalitarian scriptures”—there is a dual denial in play. The absence of a caste census has meant the erasure of caste as a category to understand Muslims — their impoverishment, educational backwardness or occupational precarity. For instance, the Gopal Singh Committee report of 1983, commissioned to look into poverty, expresses surprise at the fact that Muslim artisans “who possess so much of talent in arts and crafts” are still landless, poor, and exploited. If the commission understood “art” among Muslim communities not as an ahistorical de-contextualised “talent”, but as traditional occupations steeped in caste structures, they would have been able to better understand poverty among Muslims.

In this context, two studies published this year come as a welcome addition to help us understand caste among Muslims better and help put some figures in perspective. First, a recently published paper in the Journal of International Development by Chhavi Tiwari, Srinivas Goli, Mohammad Zahid Siddiqui and Pradeep S. Salve looks at 7,000 households in UP to compare landholding, poverty, employment, education and health indicators at a sub-caste level for both Hindu and Muslim castes.

The study estimates that 76 per cent of Muslims are lower castes, with Dalit Muslims comprising 24 per cent of the Muslim population. The percentage of Dalit Muslims, in particular, comes across as quite significant as very few policy decisions take into account this section of the population which faces untouchability but (along with Dalit Christians) does not get any protection under the Scheduled Caste status.

The study reiterates the difference in indicators for upper caste and lower caste Muslims. Rural poverty among Dalit and OBCs Muslims is 53 per cent and 42 per cent, respectively, as against 31 per cent among upper caste (general) Muslims. The share of landless households is 80 per cent among Dalit Muslims against 44 per cent among upper-caste Muslims. Dalit and OBC Muslims face two times greater exclusion from formal financial services such as loans from banks.

The study suggests greater socio-economic disparity among upper caste and lower caste Muslims, and a higher percentage of lower caste Muslims than previous studies estimated. While NSSO approximates caste data about Muslims by cross tabulating responses under the heads of “religion” and “social group”, this study follows a bottom-up approach, directly asking “biradaris”(communities) in the survey, and matching them to the traditional caste-occupational structure for both Hindus and Muslims.

However, the study also reiterates that upper caste Muslims are still at a considerable disadvantage compared to Hindu upper castes across the spectrum of socio-economic indicators. For example, the poverty ratio in rural areas for Upper caste Hindus is 14 per cent, while the same is 31 per cent for Muslim upper castes. A similar disparity can also be found in urban poverty, land and wealth holding. Overall, upper-caste Hindus are at a greater advantage compared to any other group in the country.

Another recent study by Julien Levesque, Laurence Gautier, and Nicolas Belorgey is of note. Mapping the “social spaces” that Muslim leaders occupy, the study offers some quantitative insight into Muslim leadership. In his 2000 book Masawat ki Jung, Ali Anwar emphasised the overrepresentation of Syeds and Sheikhs in several Muslim bodies in Bihar (For example, at the time, out of 39 executive members of the All India Muslim Personal Law Board, 36 were upper caste). This study looks at a larger geographical spread, narrowing down to 164 Muslim leaders across India. It notes that 70 per cent of Muslim leaders belong to upper castes. Further, the composition hasn’t changed in the last 30 years.

These works are welcome and necessary. They underline that caste remains the fundamental unit of Indian society across religions and a caste census could unravel many questions about power, representation and “appeasement” in the country.

Written by Shireen Azam , Srinivas Goli 

Source: Indian Express, 2/05/22

Assam’s Miya community is now threatened with eviction

 

Nazimuddin Siddique writes:The attack on their citizenship has created unprecedented fear among members of the community. Eviction is the latest weapon being used to trap them in a cycle of poverty and hardship.

On September 23, a video trended on social media. In the video, a lungi-clad man holding a stick— later identified as Moinul Haque — is seen to approach some 20 armed police personnel. Over the next few seconds, he is shot at close range. As he falls to the ground, a dozen policemen or so are seen beating and kicking the dying man. The video also showed a civilian, later identified as a government photographer, stomping on the man lying on the ground. This display of medieval barbarism was witnessed during an eviction drive in Darrang district in central Assam.

Miyas are Muslims of East Bengal origin or Asomiya Muslims of Bengali origin. The history of migration of this social group into Assam dates back to the mid-19th century. Migration continued till the first half of the 20th century. The migrants assimilated with Asomiya culture and adopted Asomiya as their identity and language. Their doing so directly contributed to keeping Asomiya as the language spoken by the majority of people in multilingual and heterogeneous Assam.Yet, the post-colonial society of Assam has witnessed large-scale othering and persecution of the Miya community. There can be no better illustration of the result of this process of othering than the killing of Moinul Haque and the desecration of his corpse.

Persecution of Miyas has a long history in Assam. They are regularly vilified as Gedas, “illegal immigrants”, “Bangladeshis”, “doubtful Bangladeshis”, “illegal encroachers”, etc. Many academics from the region label them as illegal immigrants. Using racial slurs against this social group has been widespread. Apart from quotidian dehumanisation inflicted by many in Assam, there have also been multiple killings with attendant impunity of the perpetrators. None of the perpetrators has hitherto been brought to justice for these mass crimes.

The targeting of the community continued in the name of the National Register of Citizens (NRC) and through the creation of the infamous detention camps. A special category of people was created in Assam called “doubtful-voters”; citizenship of thousands of Miyas came under a cloud, based on prejudice and stereotypes. Many were forcibly sent to detention camps. The attack on the very citizenship of thousands of Miya people, including the elderly, women and children, has heaped unprecedented fear, melancholy and hardship on the community. In this series of persecution, “eviction” is the government’s new weapon to imprison this community in an unending cycle of poverty and hardship.

Assam has, of late, been witnessing several eviction drives. Most of these evictions are targeting Muslims. The eviction in Darrang has been executed without proper implementation of a rehabilitation plan. People were served notices to vacate their land at midnight, and evictions commenced the very next morning. Many of them did not receive any notice. The mainstream media has not asked appropriate questions to the government. The civil society lacks the moral courage to protest these evictions, though aware that this is a tool being used to leave thousands of people homeless, landless, and jobless. In the locations earmarked as eviction sites, human beings are reduced, in the now-famous characterisation of India’s home minister, to “termites”. The constitutional guarantee of equality for all citizens has been ground to dust. The backdrop of this collective failure of society is the prevailing Hindu-Muslim divide.

Assam has thousands of landless people. Most of them are Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs). The IDPs are a creation of past instances of violence and natural calamities that include rivers running amok seasonally and riverbank erosion. But successive governments have not gotten round to resolving the issue of landlessness. Many of the landless are labelled as “illegal Bangladeshis”. Many people in eastern Assam think that lower Assam is full of Miyas. The political class leaves no stone unturned to fan prejudice and creates a fertile ground for hatred.

Civil society must, therefore, initiate a dialogue to bridge the inter-community gap and reclaim the truth. The people of upper Assam must be educated that Miyas are not Bangladeshi. This may be done by the civil society perhaps through a bridging project. Under such a project some people from villages of eastern Assam could be invited to spend time in Miya villages of western Assam, thereby building social bridges.

This column first appeared in the print edition on October 6, 2021 under the title ‘A bridge to Assam’s other’. The writer is an Assam-based researcher

Source: Indian Express, 6/10/21

Provide data on the education of Muslims

 Monitoring the educational progress of Muslims was hamstrung by the absence of official data, leading to their downward spiral that went unnoticed for decades. Educational reform is critical to promoting and sustaining the development of communities. This is particularly true for Indian Muslims, who are, today, India’s most educationally disadvantaged community. However, this change cannot even be articulated without addressing the limitations in the official education data sets available on Indian Muslims.

Without empirical evidence, educational planning will depend on subjective and impressionistic views. This was highlighted by the 2006 Sachar Committee Report on Muslims, which observed that it was often believed, without data, that most Muslim children studied in madrasas, thus encouraging religious fundamentalism. The evidence indicated that far fewer Muslim children attended madrasas than believed — around 4% of those aged seven-19 — and that most Muslim students attended government and government-aided schools.

A major contribution of the report was to highlight the paucity of data on Indian Muslims in general and their education in particular. Consequently, more official educational data was released, but glaring omissions and deficiencies persist in many government sources of information.

This includes the most recent compilation of the department of education, Educational Statistics at a Glance, 2018, which has continued with the post-Independence tradition of providing data for the general population, and separately for Scheduled Castes (SC) and Scheduled Tribes (ST), but excluding Muslims as a separate category. Muslims have also been excluded, and SCs and STs included, in the student enrolment data furnished by special government school networks run by the Kendriya Vidyalaya Sangathan (KVS) and the Navodaya Vidyalaya Samiti (NVS).

Muslims are also conspicuous by their absence in the National Achievement Surveys (NAS) of the National Council of Educational Research and Training (NCERT). The most recent 2017 NAS evaluated the learning outcomes of about 2.2 million students in language, mathematics and environmental studies in classes 3 and 5, and tested social studies, science and environmental studies in Class 7. Like the previous publications, learning data was provided separately for SC and ST students. While now including Other Backward Classes (OBCs) too, the NAS Report excluded Muslims from its purview.

The importance of this type of learning data, enrolment and other statistics is highlighted by comparing the post-Independence educational trajectories of Muslims, SCs and STs. Educational statistics in colonial India indicated that Muslims were far ahead of SCs and STs in educational enrolment at all levels of school and higher education.

However, unlike Muslims, SCs and STs made educational progress in post-Independence India. The availability of data on SCs and STs allowed for special educational schemes to be launched for them. National and state planners and government agencies used a variety of educational indicators to track their quantitative and qualitative progress, thus enabling corrective action.

On the other hand, monitoring the educational progress of Muslims was hamstrung by the near-total absence of official data, and consequently, their inexorable downward spiral went publicly unnoticed for decades. When official education statistics and the 2001 Census data on Muslims was finally made publicly available, the true extent of their “invisible” comparative decline was revealed.

Muslims have been the most educationally backward group in India. In comparison to their population, they have the lowest enrolment rates at elementary, high school and higher secondary school education, as well as higher education.Since the official educational statistics have revealed for almost a decade that Muslims are the most educationally backward, it is unreasonable for the department of education’s Educational Statistics at a Glance, KVS, NVS and NCERT to continue to exclude Muslims from their purview. Though recent school and higher education reports — District Information System for Education and All India Survey on Higher Education — do provide data on Muslims, it is not comprehensive.

What should the government do to remedy this? First, review all official publications including the Census, and publish data on Muslims that is made available for SCs and STs. This includes statistics on enrolment, learning, examination results, provision of facilities/ scholarships in all central and state reports, which would assist in tracking the educational progress of Muslim students, at all stages and networks of school and higher education. Institutions such as Unicef, Unesco and the World Bank should also be urged to follow suit in the reporting of data.Data on Muslims and all other religious minorities should be reported separately. This will help avoid any ambiguity since it is unclear whether the use of the term “minority or minorities” refers to Muslims only or all religious minorities.

Indian Muslims are now close to 200 million and comprise almost 15% of the population. Any sustained educational reform that can pull them out of the economic, social and political morass they find themselves in, can only be implemented on a strong foundation of comprehensive data on Indian Muslims that can help track their educational progress.

John Kurrien has been working in the field of the education of disadvantaged groups for four decades

Source: Hindustan Times, 2/03/21

On socio-economic indicators, Muslim youth fare worse than SCs and OBCs

The percentage of youth who are currently enrolled in educational institutions is the lowest among Muslims. Only 39% of the community in the age group of 15-24 are enrolled against 44% for SCs, 51% for Hindu OBCs and 59% for Hindu upper castes.

The 2019 Lok Sabha elections have reconfirmed the political marginalisation of Muslims — MPs from the community are very few in Parliament’s lower house. This process is converging with the equally pronounced socio-economic marginalisation of the community. Muslims have been losing out to Dalits and Hindu OBCs since the Sachar committee submitted its report in 2005.

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Using the recent “suppressed” NSSO report (PLFS-2018) and the NSS-EUS (2011-12), examine the socioeconomic status of Muslim youth vis-à-vis other social groups in India. We use the same set of 13 states covering 89 per cent of the 170 million Muslims enumerated in 2011. We use three variables: Percentage of Muslim educated youth (21-29 age) who have completed graduation, percentage of the community’s youth (15 to 24 age) in educational institutions and the percentage of Muslim youth who are in the NEET category (not in employment, education or training). These variables together reflect pathways of educational mobility for the country’s youth.

The proportion of the youth who have completed graduation — we call this, “educational attainment” — among Muslims in 2017-18 is 14 per cent as against 18 per cent among the Dalits, 25 per cent among the Hindu OBCs, and 37 per cent among the Hindu upper castes. The gap between the SCs and Muslims is 4 percentage points (ppt) in 2017-18. Six years earlier (2011-12), the SC youth were just one ppt above Muslims in educational attainment. The gap between the Muslims and Hindu OBCs was 7 ppt in 2011-12 and has gone up to 11 ppt now. The gap between all Hindus and Muslims widened from 9 ppt in 2011-12 to 11 ppt in 2017-18.

Muslim youth in the Hindi heartland fare the worst. Their educational attainment is the lowest in Haryana, 3 per cent in 2017-18; in Rajasthan, this figure is 7 per cent; it is 11 per cent in Uttar Pradesh. Madhya Pradesh is the only north Indian state where the Muslims are doing relatively better in education — their educational attainment is 17 per cent. In all these states, except MP, SCs fare better than Muslims. The gap between SCs and Muslims with respect to educational attainment is 12 ppt Haryana and Rajasthan and 7 ppt in UP. In 2011-12, in all these states, SCs were slightly above the Muslims on this parameter.

In eastern India, the educational attainment among the Muslim youth in Bihar is 8 per cent, as against 7 per cent among SCs, in West Bengal it is 8 per cent, as against 9 per cent for SCs, and in Assam it is 7 per cent as against 8 per cent for SCs. While the gap between Muslims and SCs has narrowed in the last six years, the latter still fare better.

In western India, the educational attainment figures for Muslims are better compared to 2011-12. But they do not necessarily reflect a significant educational improvement when compared to the SCs and Hindu-OBCs. In Gujarat, the gap in educational attainment between the Muslims and SCs is14 ppt in 2017-18; six years ago, it was just 8 ppt. In Maharashtra, the Muslims were marginally — by 2 ppt — better off than SCs in 2011-12, they have now not only lost to SCs but the latter has now overtaken them by 8 ppt.

With 36 per cent graduate Muslim youth, Tamil Nadu tops the educational attainment parameter with respect to the community in the country. In Kerala, this figure is 28 per cent, in Andhra Pradesh, it is 21 per cent and in Karnataka, 18 per cent of the Muslim youth are graduate. While the community is giving a close competition to SCs in Tamil Nadu and AP, it is losing out in Kerala. The developments in South India have more to do with the relatively faster mobility of SCs than the marginalisation of Muslims. The community’s achievements also have to be seen in the context of positive discrimination Muslims enjoy in these states – Dalit and OBC Muslims are given reservations under the OBC quota.

The marginalisation of Muslims on socio-economic indicators becomes clear when we evaluate the statistics related to youth currently in educational institutions. The percentage of youth who are currently enrolled in educational institutions is the lowest among Muslims. Only 39 per cent of the community in the age group of 15-24 are in educational institution as against 44 per cent for SCs, 51 per cent for Hindu OBCs and 59 per cent for Hindu upper castes.

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A sizable proportion of Muslim youth are leaving the formal education system and moving into the NEET category. Thirty-one per cent of youth from the community fall in this category — the highest from any community in the country — followed by 26 per cent among the SCs, 23 per cent among the Hindu OBCs, and 17 per cent among the Hindu upper castes. This trend is more pronounced in the Hindi belt — 38 per cent of Muslims youth fall under NEET in Rajasthan, in UP and Haryana, this figure is 37 per cent and in MP, it is 35 per cent. In South India, the proportion of Muslims outside the formal eduction system is relatively low — 17 per cent in Telangana, 19 per cent in Kerala , 24 per cent in Tamil Nadu and 27 per cent in AP.

While the marginalisation of Muslims began several years ago, the phenomenon seems to have gathered pace in recent years. As Sam Asher et al point out in their recent study, ‘Intergenerational Mobility in India: Estimates from New Methods and Administrative Data’, “Muslims are being left out from educational mobility in India while the SCs are getting integrated into it”. More studies are needed to link this disturbing process to the political marginalisation of Muslims. The activities of vigilante groups could possibly have led young Muslims to withdraw in to their shell.

This article first appeared in the print edition on November 1, 2019 under the title ‘Most marginalised of them all’. Jaffrelot is senior research fellow at CERI-Sciences Po/CNRS, Paris, and Professor of Indian Politics and Sociology at King’s India Institute, London. Kalaiyarasan is faculty at Institute for Studies in Industrial Development, Delhi.

Source: Indian Express, 1/11/2019