Who’s afraid of a textbook?

The writer is an independent education researcher and consultant. She has a PhD in Education from Michigan State University.

Last year, on May 20 (2020), the Punjab Curriculum and Textbook Board (PCTB) issued a notice to the management of Sunrise Publications for printing and selling a booklet series for pre-primary (3-5 year-olds) titled ‘Infant Mathematics’ without obtaining an NOC. Apparently, it included content the PCTB deemed “detrimental for examination and assessment purposes or repugnant to the injunction of Islam or contrary to the integrity, defence or security of Pakistan, or any part of Pakistan or public order or morality” [sic].

Readers should keep in mind that obtaining an NOC has been a requirement de jure for private textbook publishers for years. However, the PCTB’s lack of capacity to review books and issue NOCs in a timely manner meant that this requirement remained de facto unenforced. But every now and then, when an influential person with access makes a complaint to the highest authorities or a random individual files a public interest case (as happened in December 2020 in Altamash versus the Government of Punjab), the PCTB jumps into action and weaponizes the requirement for an NOC. In last year’s instance, it was to save preschoolers from the ‘repugnant act’ of counting three cartoon piglets and all the “threats to the integrity, defence and security of Pakistan '' that carries with it.

The PCTB is back in the news. This time it has issued a notice (dated July 13, 2021) to the Oxford University Press for printing and selling another pre-primary book for the last two years (since 2019), predating the new textbook review process it put into place this year. The PCTB’s notice does not cite any violation besides the lack of an NOC. But then, older private textbooks/ supplementary materials were never issued NOCs. In that respect, this book is no different from many others from that period. The book in question was reportedly submitted to the PCTB for review in 2019, along with thousands of other books. It was returned without NOC, with a suggestion to resubmit when the review of books for the SNC starts. The PCTB’s lack of readiness to follow its own rules meant that this book, like others, kept being sold without an NOC. Despite assurances, it has been unable to expedite the issuance of NOCs in a timely manner due to its tedious review process, while the start of the already much delayed academic year looms in August.

With no other identifiable content that could be deemed objectionable, it appears the PCTB is once again responding to assuage offence caused by Malala’s picture to the sensibilities of someone influential enough to move the wheels of the bureaucracy. Incidentally, these events also coincide with July 12, which happens to be Malala’s birthday and the day the UN has declared as World Malala Day for her education activism work.

The ‘offensive’ lesson contains a portrait of Malala Yousafzai in a lesson titled ‘Important People’. It opens with the line, “Here are some of our heroes”, and lists pictures and names of Quaid-e-Azam Muhammad Ali Jinnah, Allama Muhammad Iqbal, Sir Syed Ahmed Khan and Liaqat Ali Khan underneath. On the opposite page it continues, “Here are some famous people” and lists pictures and names of Abdul Sattar Edhi, Begum Raana Liaqat Ali Khan, Major Aziz Bhatti, and Malala Yousafzai, in that order. That is all. Yet, such a grave offence is the inclusion of Malala in a list of ‘famous people’ that bookshops are being raided, books confiscated, and sternly worded official notices issued to the publisher (but no other).

Predictably, Pakistani Twitter erupted at this news. If you still think that the inclusion of Malala in a lesson listing some famous personalities cannot possibly be the reason, take a gander on Pakistani Twitter today and witness the venom spewed by so many literate, internet connected fellow citizens, seemingly blinded by jealousy.

A country infected by the old-boys mentality is unwilling to bestow the descriptor of ‘famous person’ or hero on someone who does not meet any of our hero standards: a) she is alive; b) she is a woman; c) she is young; d) she lives in the West; e) she was not from the ‘elite class’ (politically, socially or economically) we show servility to; and f) she is not the underdog victim that makes us feel good about defending her. This is petty, small-minded, jealousy that seeks to drag down those who manage to achieve something despite odds. It is as simple as that and there is no need to intellectualize it.

According to its own website, the PCTB’s raison d’ etre is to develop textbooks, “understanding curriculum and pedagogy of the subject”, review textbooks “for assurance of quality and error free” [sic], publish, supply and check piracy. However, the PCTB has abdicated the responsibility of developing textbooks and has instead adopted the ones developed by the National Curriculum Council (NCC) in Islamabad. Its capacity to review textbooks seems to be solely focused on sanitizing textbooks according to an extreme right-wing ideology that requires girls and women to wear hijabs and does not allow recognition of Malala as a famous Pakistani. Pedagogical priorities have firmly taken a back seat. If the PCTB has surrendered its primary roles of developing and pedagogically reviewing textbooks, does it still need to exist?

I wonder what, according to the PCTB, the ideal textbook looks like. Will it be a book that all 120 million of Punjab’s citizens agree to and that caters to a common denominator? What does that even look like? For the answer, look at past textbooks. Urdu and Social Studies textbooks rarely venture beyond praising Quaid-e-Azam, Allama Iqbal, Sir Syed Ahmed Khan, Liaqat Ali Khan, and a handful of martyrs of the 1965 war and more recently Arfa Karim and Ruth Pfau, both deceased. Many other personalities are deemed too controversial.

Yet, important questions we should be asking ourselves have fallen by the wayside: can there be no room for a difference of opinion in textbooks that lend themselves for discussions? That seems to be the idea the PCTB has. Where then, does that leave the goals of fostering critical thinking in children? Do we wish our society to be one where the state bans books for the smallest perceived infractions, a la an Orwellian dystopia?

The PCTB ought to look in the mirror and see who is standing by it – the usual clique of unappointed guardians of public morality and mob of non-experts while independent and unaffiliated area experts have largely coalesced on the other side of the argument. It is also worth noting that the end of what some call Pakistan's golden period in public education roughly coincides with the establishment of the Punjab Textbook Board (now the PCTB) in the 1960s, and the decline that followed tracks the increasingly tighter control of government departments on education. With the PCTB making one misstep after another in recent years, is it not time for some introspection?

It is also worth noting that criticism of the PCTB’s operations is bipartisan. A few days ago, Minister for Information and Broadcasting Fawad Chaudhry lent his voice to the issue by putting it plainly: “The trend in Punjab has been problematic. Before this issue they banned a book like ‘The First Muslim’ and they banned Raza Aslan’s book….if we keep following this trend the issue of extremism which is already plaguing us is going to become an even deeper issue, causing serious social issues”. He also referred to the inclusion of the Muttahida Ulema Board in the process of book review, a problematic step – albeit by an act of parliament.

The geopolitical situation on our borders is rapidly changing following the US troop pull-out from Afghanistan. Pro-Taliban right-wingers are coming back out of their closets after the APS attack. According to a report from Radio Free Europe filed from Mazar-e-Sharif on July 14, “Women banned from going outside alone. Girls barred from attending school. Unmarried women forced to marry fighters”; This is contrary to the stories of reformed Taliban we have been hearing from their apologists on evening talk shows.

The question to ask of ourselves as a nation is: do we think of ourselves as pro-Malala, an international symbol and champion of girls’ education, or would we rather align ourselves with regressive extremism because our resentment and hate for Malala’s fame and good fortune outweighs the damage that the extremists have already started inflicting?