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I suppose that by
the time I was putting the final touches to my thesis I knew that it
had a snowball in hell's chance of being accepted. Too clever for
his own good, or too cocky by half - or as they say around here
"nobody likes a smart-arse". Anyway, I'd said what I
wanted to say in the only way that I thought I might be able to get
away with it, and knew that I would have to be happy with it
whatever they thought. It was not until I sat down in my Viva and
heard the first words to come out of the external examiners mouth,
however, that I knew that I would have to look back on the years of
considerable academic effort and just mark them up as another
expensive life-learning experience.
But I suppose if I'm going to
tell the story, I'm going to have to begin much earlier than that.
Then again, as I said at the start of my thesis (quoting
Wittgenstein) "It is so difficult to find the beginning. Or,
better: it is difficult to begin at the beginning, and not try to go
further back." As I used to say to people when I first came
back to Glasgow twenty-five years ago "Why don't you get
someone to give me an honorary degree? They give them to footballers
- and it would make me so much easier to fit into the system, and
therefore much more useful in the areas in which you need me."
Of course they all just thought I was joking and they didn't believe
me when I said I wasn't.
O.K. Let's start at Glasgow
University, where the Dean of the Faculty of Divinity had got to
know me through my interfaith work and had asked me to put together
an introductory module on Islam for the World Religions course they
were about to introduce, and coming in as a teaching assistant with
specialist knowledge, my lack of formal qualifications was not a
problem. These lectures proved to be quite popular over the next few
years, and I believe that popularity encouraged the Faculty to set
up the Centre for the Study of Islam in 1998, a move which I
considered to be a very positive one, but which in the event ended
my relationship with the University as they were now offering full
time posts for muslims in the Centre, for which I was unfortunately
not qualified to apply.
Anyway, other things occupied
me for a while until the idea was broached of my coming in as a
teaching assistant in Religious Studies at the University of
Stirling. But as they didn't know me personally in the way they had
at Glasgow, I first had to jump through the various hoops required
to prove that I had the necessary knowledge and was competent to
teach, which wasn't too hard in the end, but highlighted once more
my lack of formal qualifications for the jobs for which I seemed
most suited. So when I started working there I also started talking
about possibly taking a degree course on the side. Then it was
suggested that rather than a degree course (which I could have
knocked off in my spare time over three years) it might be more
suitable for me to skip the first degree and study towards a
research degree, a Doctorate or Masters instead (which until then I
hadn't realised was possible), and that was my first mistake.
So first they made me do
assorted research modules over a couple of years so that they knew I
had a handle on how to approach research in the first place (the
result of one is also on this website), and then I started doing
what I had intended when I started. For the reason for doing
'research' as opposed to an ordinary degree was not to get a
different set of letters after my name, but because I thought I
would be able to make it an 'action research' project involving the
implementation across a number of Scottish schools of some basic
form of what I am now trying to make happen as IZWAYZ. In this, the
intention was to use the University resources and use the University
as a base from which to operate. My second mistake.
Well, for over a year I
worked on that basis, establishing contacts in Local Education
Authorities and schools across Scotland, as well as interviewing
various people with an interest in values education and the like.
But far from having a base in the University, it soon became
apparent that as an 'external' student I would not be getting much
in the way of support or resources, no computer, no desk, no phone,
no mailbox, not even a hook on which to hang my coat. Of course, I
did get a card for the University Library - but for the fees they
were charging me that was turning out to be one very expensive
library card. I did consider abandoning the whole thing, but once
you've paid out your first couple of thousand pounds in fees, rather
than just write that money off to experience, the temptation is to
try to find a way to justify having spent it by keeping on going to
achieve something that may not be what you had originally intended
but will at least end up getting you something for your money. That
course of action, however, does require that you add a good few
thousand more to the money you have already paid out. My third
mistake.
So I ended up speaking to the
Professor of Education, the usual clash with a died in the wool
secularist and a thoroughly dispiriting ordeal, after which I
dropped the idea of a PhD (which for those who don't know usually
requires an even narrower focus than a Masters) and tried to find a
subject that I might find interesting and not a complete waste of
time. Now for me that meant dealing with some big and awkward
questions, as what I was interested in was the relationship between
secular education and muslim children - and as an extension of that,
children of other faith groups - as well as a more personal
extension of that, muslim students at university, like me. I
don't really think that anyone was too happy with me taking on such
a big idea, however, even though it was agreed that I would explore
the subject. In fact, having agreed that they would keep taking my
money, it took the best part of a year for me to get them to agree
to a title for my thesis - and that is the title that you saw on the
page that brought you here.
Anyway, you've probably
forgotten it by now, so here it is again - "Knowledge,
Religious Understanding and Education in a multi-faith
society", with the sub-title "An exploration of the
relationship between secular school and faith community in the
development of a child's identity and values in a local and global
context", a catchy title you must agree. Unfortunately, I think
that when they agreed to my looking into how faith groups related to
secular education, they didn't actually take on board that I
included within that a critique of the system they were practicing
and within which I was a student. But the trouble with big ideas is
that they aren't easily constrained within preferred boundaries, and
in dealing with the problematic issues of my thesis there is a
further difficulty in that those issues are largely recursive, and
discussed within the thesis itself.
So why talk about them here?
I suppose because the thesis is 120,000 words, and it's not the
easiest thing in which to find the key points. One of my problems
(as I mistakenly thought I had made clear) was that the thesis
itself is archaic and obsolete in its requirement for traditional
modes of data presentation and interpretation, not to mention the
linearity of its format, in the light of the ways that knowledge can
be accessed and manipulated nowadays. What I would have liked to do
was give readers access to my raw data to see what I had done with
it, to see what I chose to strip out of it and how much of the
original had survived, to give them the ability to directly compare
the answers to certain questions, follow the words of a single
interview or search across them all for key themes. I wanted to be
able to link across from one section of my commentary and analysis
to another in a different section, and provide means of grouping the
words in different ways. But the system goes back to the middle
ages, and doesn't work that way I'm afraid.
Anyway, it's not just the
linearity of a thesis, and the way that it has to have its ideas
following logically one after another, which I struggled to sidestep
even while I was in it, but the very idea of reductive analysis as
the be all and end all of the approach to 'data'. Come to that, I
really didn't see why the interview results needed to be treated as
'data' and academic literature as providing the intellectual tools
by which to approach it, as opposed to the other way around. Then
there were all the other academic dogmas which one has to follow
blindly if one is to be accepted into the academic priesthood. Some,
like the self-referential nature of post-modern analysis, tend to be
present in the theory while conspicuously absent in the practice of
much research (self-awareness not being incorporated in too many
university courses), a fact which I tried to highlight at the same
time as incorporating my own self-referential take by including
sections of autobiography relevant to points under discussion. But
clearly what I thought were fairly original attempts to find ways to
confront and deal with such academic problems were seen not as
inventive, but bizarre.
The greatest problem by far,
however was that of a muslim 'pupil' trying to function within the
secular education system, an issue that in the end proved to be the
greatest recursive poser dealt with in my thesis and faced by those
who represented the system when they had to sit in judgement upon
it. For when muslim parents are forced by the state (under threat of
imprisonment) to send their children to school, they are told that
the education they receive will not constrain their abilities to
view the world as muslims in the way that their parents would wish.
Now, if this is indeed the case and not a state sponsored fantasy
(or if not a fantasy, then a lie), it is to be expected that the
intellectual structure that permits this untrammeled freedom of
perception is at the heart of the entire system, not just the
schools in which muslim children are learning how to understand the
world around them, but also in the universities that train the
teachers in those schools and provide the academics who define the
curricula and set the examinations for those schools, and who define
the knowledge and understanding that those muslim children need to
acquire if they are to be acceptable to those universities which
define the system.
In other words, if it is true
that a muslim child can go through school without facing any
intellectual conflict between what they are taught and their
religion, the same should be possible for a muslim at university. Or
to put it another way - if it proves to be impossible for a muslim
student at university (especially one who is in fact already
teaching undergraduates at university, specialises in Islamic
studies and has a broad understanding of Islamic concepts, and is
also well known as a broadcaster for his ability to communicate
across the muslim/ non-muslim divide) to successfully study 'as a
muslim', that is to present work (in this case research) set in an
Islamic ontology and have it prove acceptable within the system,
what chance is there for a muslim child to overcome that system in
school. And in the event, by refusing to abandon the muslim ontology
which is my way of seeing and understanding the world in which I
live, I had to face that aspect of my language of communication
being labeled as 'polemic', rather than accepted as just one more
normative viewpoint, equally acceptable to all others in a nominally
all-embracing secular system.
Despite teachers best efforts
to imbue it with humanity, I have to believe that what we have at
the moment is not the all-embracing system that educationists would
have you believe in, but actually an all-excluding system where all
are welcome only as long as they leave their religious intellectual
baggage at the door. Not that I think that the Islamic ontology of
my thesis was the only reason for its rejection by any means. Its
stylistic peculiarities alone might have been enough to have it
turned down. Or my approach to the data, with its attempt to
reintroduce a form of synthesis into an arena where reductive
analysis has held sway for many years, only to be challenged by
post-modern theories of the impossibility of any shared 'voice'
(apart from that of the post-modernist vanishing up his own theories
of course). I'm not sure that my external examiner was too much of a
post-modernist, however, though I do know that he would have liked
to have seen a lot more reductive analysis. Which brings me neatly
back to somewhere near the beginning of this at the top of the page.
For after many thousands of
words explaining how I had tried to present the data taking myself
out of the equation as much as possible, by simply grouping the
words of my interviewees around the various themes on which they had
been speaking, leaving matters of interpretation to the reader,
after thousands of words pointing out the gross limitations of
reductive analysis as a tool to understand the world around us, the
first words I heard from my examiner were "What is the point of
this data? I can't tell who said what." (after all these years
not an exact quote, but something very close). Now considering that
the 'data' was the words of educationists who were Hindu, Buddhist,
Jewish, Sikh, Bahai, Church of Scotland, Episcopalian, Roman
Catholic, Unitarian and Presbyterian, as well as Muslim, I thought
that was an extraordinary occurrence that might be worthy of
consideration by a wider academic public. I thought that what those
indistinguishable voices had to say might be seen as relevant to the
educational debate - and I still do, which is why I have put my
thesis on this website in the form it is, even though I really think
of it as an eventually pretty pointless attempt to try to fit within
the language of the system.
Now you may wonder why I
didn't rework it and resubmit it after all that work, but there is a
sort of post-script here. The viva was, in the end, a fairly
head-butting affair, and after they finally told me that they had
rejected what I'd done I must admit I was pretty angry for a while,
not so much for the fact that it had been rejected as for what I
felt were the superficiality of the reasons. But I was still
thinking of how I could bridge what from my viva conversation had
seemed like the usual chasm between me and the secular educationists
that I meet. So I talked to a few members of staff from different
departments around the University, and it seemed like with one voice
(clearly not a post-modern perspective) they all said "Why
don't you just rewrite it to say what they want you to say, and get
your degree?" and I found that almost more depressing than the
rejection in the first place. And I felt that I was now so old that
I really wouldn't improve my chances of getting a wonderful new job
by putting some letters after my name, as those chances were getting
closer to zero by the day. So, unlike Groucho Marx, who wouldn't
dream of joining any club that would have someone like him as a
member, I finally came to the conclusion that acadaemia was a club
that I didn't want to join if I had to be like the rest of its
members before they would let me in.
So I didn't bother to rework
my thesis to make it say what they wanted it to say, and I didn't
resubmit it, and it sits on my library shelf to this day - and now
on this website - and one day I might take the material and rework
it just for fun. But as I said at the top, I really knew what was
going to happen, and I suppose that I summed up my attitude to the
education system in the Mulla Nasruddin story that I tacked on to
the last page as a post-script after the appendices. So if you don't
fancy reading through the full 120,000 turgid words, you can use
your Adobe Reader to go straight to the last page, where you will
find the entire thesis in a one paragraph summary.
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