es heard. This is no mean achievement. If this is indeed the case, what is the relationship between education and democracy? Philosopher John Dewey posits a positive correlation between the two and argued that education was central requirement for a democratic and inclusive polity. But India’s experience with electoral politics could lead one to argue that the classic doctrine does not apply to India. Is this really so? How does education or the lack of it and inherent inequality in quality and access impact on democratic practice? I begin with a personal journey and move on to explore the twists and turns in the discourse of education, equity and democracy.

I started working with women convinced that women as individuals have little voice in our democracy and that coming together as a group, a collective, would enable them to negotiate the world around them from a position of strength – whether they are literate or illiterate, educated or uneducated. So we got together and facilitated the formation of women’s groups, engaged them in processes that helped them reflect on their life experience, share personal struggles and discern patterns of oppression. This, I believed would create opportunities to transcend their personal life situation and look at oppression, discrimination and violence as a social phenomenon as a product of social and gender relations in society, caste and class dynamics that frame the lives of people. This process, I was convinced, would initiate a process of real education – develop ability for critical thinking, the confidence to articulate problems and issues and make more informed choices.

Yet, as we went ahead with our agenda of empowerment, we came to a roadblock. The very fact that most women we worked with were either illiterate or barely literate inhibited their ability to take control of the institutions that they had created, affecting their ability to participate as equals. Leadership of groups and federation of women’s groups invariably passed on to people who were educated – those who could deal with the written word, read and write and comprehend the complex matrix of social and political institutions - whether it was the self-help groups working towards sustainable livelihoods or social groups striving for participation in local self-government institutions or development groups trying to access resources for their community. The very fact that poor women did not attend school or went to schools that taught them little, emerged as a barrier to participation in institutional processes. This phenomenon was palpable where women fought and won Panchayat elections – illiteracy or being semi-literate was clearly a barrier to effective functioning. Even more disturbing was that their children and grand children were also being denied access to meaningful education. The inter-generational cycle of poor education / illiteracy and poverty kept them at the bottom of the layer. Their caste, location, community and economic situation determined whether they participate.

What has all this to do with democracy?

We all know that Indian voters vote in large numbers and throw out governments that do not meet their expectations. We also know that literacy and education has little to do with people’s ability to exercise their right to vote (except in places where they are prevented from casting it). Also that given the nature of the political system, they have few choices. Yet, they exercise their choice, however limited.

At a formal level democracy is about exercising choices. It is about franchise and it is about one-person one-vote and one-vote one-value. At a little deeper level we also associate democracy with rule of law and institutions. We expect democratic societies to respect civil liberties and human rights, place great value in an impartial judicial process – a mechanism through which people can aspire for justice. We take great pride in a legislature that makes laws and an executive and administrative system that follows these laws. We give importance to the right to free speech and a media that functions within a competitive environments. Most importantly, we value our right to equality and want to be treated as equals. We recognise that existence of democratic institutions is a prerequisite for a vibrant democracy.

Subsequent stages get a little more complex. The mere existence of democratic institutions does not ensure democratic practice. The Constituent Assembly understood that rights could be realised only if we create a level playing field. Acknowledging the centuries of discrimination based on caste we initiated policies of affirmative action and to counter the historical baggage of social exclusion and economic exploitation, introduced reservations in educational institutions and in government jobs. There was consensus that – at least at the formal level – affirmative action was in keeping with the spirit of democracy and equal opportunity. In this, education was positioned as a central tool for the realisation of the constitutional obligation of equal opportunity.

An early twist in our tale of democracy and equality came in the failure to make Universal Elementary Education (UEE) a fundamental right of children, instead relegating it to the Directive Principles –non-justicible guidelines rather than a judicially enforceable right. Even as UEE was accepted as the minimal non-negotiable requirement for ensuring a substantive practice of democracy, the founding fathers of democratic India did not think it was important to make it a fundamental right. As a result, five and a half decades after we declared ourselves a sovereign democratic republic, we have still to redeem the pledge made in 1950.

Education may have no direct one-to-one relationship with the formal democracy, but it or more importantly its lack influences the ability of citizens to engage with the institutions associated with the practice of democracy. It affects the ability of people to transcend the situation in which they find themselves at birth, impairs their ability to negotiate the maze of institutions that surround them, robs them of self-esteem and confidence and silences the voice of the marginalised and the dispossessed. Ultimately, its absence pushes ‘people without voice’ into ghettos – resurrects primordial identities and creates new forms of social exclusion and social segregation. Education, despite the power to work as an agent of change, to “neutralize the accumulated distortions of the past” has unfortunately reinforced existing social and community identities.

A personal journey that started with women’s mobilisation and empowerment has over time taken me into the arena of primary education – the battleground where the politics of inclusion and exclusion is played out from one generation to the next, reducing those at the margins as silent spectators of the grand theatre of periodic elections that bring about little change in the basic structure of oppression and exclusion.

The relationship between education and democracy is like an invisible spiral that helps those in control remain there and those at the bottom alienated and voiceless. As it has manifested itself in Independent India, education impacts through its potential of enhancing the capability of people the substantive practice of democracy more than the formal system of elections. Education has the potential of enhancing the capability of people. As Dreze and Sen convincingly argue: “‘Capability’ refers to the alternative combinations of functioning from which a person can choose. Thus the notion of capability is essentially one of freedom – a range of options a person has in deciding what kind of life to lead. Poverty, in this view, lies not merely in the impoverished state in which the person actually lives, but also in the lack of real opportunities – given by social constraints as well as personal circumstances – to choose other types of living”. Lack of access to education of acceptable quality actively inhibits the development of the capability of citizens to engage with democratic institutions thereby denuding the practice of democracy.

This paper explores how our education system has created new hierarchies and forms of social exclusion and inclusion – thereby challenging the very foundations of equality and equal opportunity and leaving an indelible mark on the practice of democracy. As noted in the prophetic words of Dr B R Ambedkar:

     “On the 26th of January 1950, we are going to enter a life of contradictions. In politics we will have equality and in      social and economic life we will have inequality. In politics we will be recognising the principle of one man one vote      and one vote one value. In our social and economic life, we shall, by reason of our social and economic structure,      continue to deny the principle of one man one value. How long shall we continue to deny equality in out social and      economic life? If we continue to deny it for long, we will do so only by putting our political democracy in peril.”

The Cumulative Burden of Exclusion

In 2003 I was engaged in an interesting multi-sectoral qualitative research project. The object, to explore factors that facilitate or impede successful primary school completion among the lowest economic quartile of the population in Karnataka, Uttar Pradesh and Andhra Pradesh. This study explored different domains – the child, family, community and institutions (specifically the primary school, Integrated Child Development Services (ICDS) and other health related services) that impact on child health, nutrition and education and their inter-linkages, both positive and negative. We spent considerable time in villages and urban slums, talking to women, interacting with children, observing schools and early child care centres and interviewing teachers and care givers.

The story was the same everywhere – poor and weak mothers giving birth to children growing up in an environment of extreme deprivation. Given the veritable absence of institutional support, an inter-generational cycle of poor health, nutrition and education is set in motion. Endemic malnutrition, partial or no immunisation, poor sanitation and hygiene and frequent bouts of illness sap children of energy and affect intellectual development. When children from the poorest communities reach pre-school age, their caste, location and economic situation becomes the defining variables framing their chances to access services such as supplementary nutrition and pre-school education. As they reach school-going age, all that they are assured of is that their name will be recorded in a school register as proof of formal enrolment. Their access to a “formal” or “transitional” school is determined by their economic status, place of residence, their caste, community or religion. However, what is not assured is whether they will be able to attend school uninterrupted – not merely because of ill-health but also because very little happens in the schools meant for the very poor. Teacher attitudes towards such children are, at best, indifferent and compounding the problem is the fact that most of the children, especially girls, work before and after school. There is no guarantee that they will learn to read and write – especially as they go to overcrowded single teacher schools or where the teacher-pupil ratio is high (reaching up to 1:120). If in a remote habitation or from an impoverished community, a local person with little qualification (popularly known as “contract teacher” or “parateachers”) may teach them.

Nevertheless, parents were still eager to send their children to school and the children themselves were full of hope. Their aspirations, however, were tempered by opportunities as they exist or do not. The initial enthusiasm to participate gradually turns to resignation and apathy – children become irregular, hang around at home or on the streets and often start pitching into the work of their families – in most cases dropping out without learning anything. The inter-generational cycle is perpetuated, with the new generation being (at best) semi-literate, weak and apathetic or in many instances angry at a system that has treated them with such indifference.

Some of our more disturbing findings related to the abysmal state of government programmes designed to provide a social safety net for the poorest of the poor:

Health, nutrition, and education have a decisive impact on a child’s development. The health and nutrition status of both mother and child is clearly more significant in the early years since it affects later cognitive development. Persistent and cumulative neglect ensures a non-attainment of appropriate developmental milestones. Health and nutritional outcomes at each stage are carried on to the next, an intergenerational transfer of handicaps resulting in a downward spiral of poverty, ill health, malnutrition, and poor learning outcomes for children.

The point is not about the persistence of abject poverty, but that government schemes meant for the poor rarely reach those who need it the most. Children starting life with a handicap does not auger well for a democracy. It is the cumulative character of social, political and economic exclusion that frames the lives of poor children, influencing their ability to participate in schooling and social and political life in later years.

Children experiencing a cumulative burden of failure on all fronts (health, nutrition and education) enter adulthood with little self-esteem or confidence. They are the ones who end up as daily wage earners, are often forced to migrate in search of work and continue to live in poverty. They are, for all practical purposes, disenfranchised, not from casting their vote, but most other aspects of social and political life. They are the ones with no voice.

Unequal Access and New Hierarchies

The 1990s are often hailed as the happening decade – at least in terms of primary education. This decade witnessed an unprecedented jump in literacy levels and in enrolment rates especially among the socially disadvantaged social groups. Female literacy went up from 32.17% in 1991 to 45.84% in 2001 – a 13.67 per cent jump in the decade of the 1990s (the increase in previous decades was 7.35% 1981-91, 6.13 1971-81 and 5.74 1961-71). The decadal increase in female literacy was an impressive 24.87% in Chhattisgarh, 20.93% in Madhya Pradesh and 23.90% in Rajasthan. The Gross Enrolment Ratio at the elementary level among scheduled castes (SC) went up from 82.5 in 1991 to 86.8 in 2001 (ST girls increased from 63.5 in 1991 to 75.5 in 2001). Similarly the Gross Enrolment Ratio at the elementary level for scheduled tribes (ST) went up from 80.4 in 1991 to 88 in 2001 (ST girls 60.2 in 1991 to 73.5 in 2001). The flip side of the scenario is that 53.7 per cent of enrolled children (57.7 for girls) drop out before they reach grade 7. This essentially implies that while a very large number of children enrol in schools, a disturbingly high proportion drop out before they can complete the elementary level. An overwhelming majority of children who drop out are poor (rural and urban), come from socially disadvantaged communities and are first generation school-goers.

Despite a significant increase in the number of primary schools (67,000 new primary schools and perhaps an equal number of alternative schools were opened in the decade of the 1990s) – this decade also saw the institutionalisation of different categories of schools designed for (catering to) different population groups. Government schools comes in different shapes and sizes – the regular government school essentially services the poor in urban and rural areas, education guarantee scheme schools cater to children who cannot access formal schools either because of physical or social distance, the alternative schools are expected to cater to children who cannot access formal school (for example night schools of Rajasthan), ashramshalas to tribal children and the private and private-aided schools to urban and rural middle class.

That is not all! Recent studies reveal that schools in different localities in the same village are endowed differently with respect to infrastructure, teacher-pupil ratio and trained teachers. There is also a significant difference in the quality of schools that come directly under the education department and those managed by the social or tribal welfare departments. For example the primary schools that come under the Adi Dravida Welfare Board in Tamil Nadu lower inputs than those directly managed by the education department. The investment in alternative schools (AS), education guarantee scheme (EGS) schools and other forms of “transitional schools” is much less than in the formal government primary school.

Another important dimension of inequality has to do with teachers. It is common knowledge that remote and inaccessible schools are dysfunctional because of non-availability or rampant absenteeism of teachers. Teachers are a highly organised group and wield considerably political clout – after all they are the returning officers during elections. Appointment, transfer and posting of teachers’ is highly politicised. So what has the government done to address this problem?

Rajasthan pioneered a new strategy in 1987. The Rajasthan Shiksha Karmi Project (SKP) was designed to address teacher non-availability in remote rural areas. The project provided for local recruitment of a teacher – known as shiksha karmi (education worker) – albeit with lower formal educational qualifications. The accent was on local recruitment in consultation with the village community. S/he was given intensive training for 2 months. This new ‘teacher’ – subsequently re-named ‘parateacher’ – was paid a fraction of the salary of formal government teachers. Though designed to meet specifc requirements of dysfunctional schools in remote areas, the model itself caught the imagination of administrators. Here was a low cost and effective model that could solve two problems in on stroke – reduce the cost of providing additional teachers in an expanding education system (reducing recurring financial liability) and ensure availability of teachers in hitherto dysfunctional schools. This scheme provided an opportunity for career advancement for teachers by enabling shiksha karmis to be regularised as formal teachers if they fulfilled some academic standards.

Madhya Pradesh pioneered the next big innovation – the Education Guarantee Scheme (EGS). Panchayats could petition the government demanding a school in a village or habitation provided there were 25 children who did not have access to a primary school within one kilometre. The government in-turn guaranteed a school within 90 days of receipt of the petition. The panchayat was expected to provide the space for an EGS school and identify local person who could be appointed a “Guruji” – after an interview and intensive training by the education department of the state government. 26,571 EGS schools were opened between July 1997 and July 2000 catering to 12,33,052 children (47% girls and 44% boys) – 91 per cent children were from scheduled caste, scheduled tribe and other socially disadvantaged communities.

While it is important to acknowledge that SKP and EGS did enhance access and that remote rural areas finally saw a functioning school – the level of investment in infrastructure, teacher development and teaching learning material varied greatly. In the spirit of affirmative action enshrined in the Constitution the government should in-fact invest far more resources on the education of the most disadvantaged communities. What happened was to the contrary – the per capita investment on education went down in remote rural and tribal areas and even new slum settlements in urban areas. Low cost models were scaled-up and adopted where greater investments were necessary.

The two-glass system (to borrow P Sainath’s phrase) is not only confined to teashops – it has permeated all social structures and institutions including our schools, the real “temples” of modern India. A new kind of segregation is clearly discernible at different levels. Children from clearly different social and economic groups attend different types of school – private unaided, private aided, government primary schools, EGS or alternative schools (AS). Even within government primary schools, there is evidence of sharp differences in quality – physical facilities, community participation, allocation of funds – as illustrated in the micro-studies as well as other reports and research papers. Poorer areas have a higher proportion of single teacher schools and multigrade classrooms. Even where different models were not in operation till recently (for example in West Bengal) the rural and remote schools get a larger number of poorly trained contract teachers. As a result children from disadvantaged groups and from very poor families who have no other options (private schools, tuitions) make do with whatever schooling they get.

This new development reinforces existing stratification - giving rise to new ‘hierarchies of access’. Paradoxically, the democratisation of access to schools seems to be accompanied by a reaffirmation of a child’s caste, community and gender in defining which school she or he attends.