Rebuilding Higher Education in Afghanistan: A Personal-Professional Journey
December 9th, 2009 by Zaher Wahab
It was a beautiful day and I was in my office at the gorgeous Lewis & Clark campus in Portland, Oregon, in early 2002. When I answered the phone, the caller said in Farsi, “Hello, Salam, Prof. Wahab. I am Dr. Faez and I have been appointed minister of higher education in the interim government; could you come to Kabul and help me redevelop higher education in our ravaged homeland?” Since I was off that semester, I joined the Ministry of Higher Education (MOHE) as senior advisor in March 2002, about three months after the eviction of the Taliban from power by U.S. Special Forces, the CIA, and their local allies, the Northern Alliance. During the flight from Dubai to Kabul on our UN-chartered plane, I experienced an avalanche of intense emotions—questions, apprehension, anticipation, and thoughts regarding my mission. I was going home, but would there be a there there?
The Kabul airport had turned into an open graveyard of massive military hardware consisting of Russian tanks, helicopters) artillery, MIG fighters, army personnel carriers, and several Ariana Airline Boeing planes. The small terminal had no electricity or water yet with wires hanging and broken windows all over. There was a huge American soldier behind the Afghan officer in the passport control booth, who asked me a few questions. I was stunned by the destruction inflicted on Kabul and the country of my childhood. The beautiful, clean, green, exotic and picturesque city now really looked like Dresden, Sarajevo, Managua, Gaza and Mogadishu at their worst. I broke down as we drove by my boarding middle and high Shoal about a mile from the MOHE, the vast campus degraded to unrecognizable, rubble. I have since learned that the devastation has been countrywide. And I still cannot believe or get used to the idea of what a country will/can do to itself, or what can be done to it.
Education Reconstruction During War and Occupation
The minister has a Ph.D. in English, and is also an Afghan-American. He and I come from different ethnic, linguistic and regional groups, which have fought a civil war and now again are on the verge of a major clash thanks to the fraudulent presidential election on August 20. I soon realized that decades of civil war, invasions, occupations, droughts, floods, sanctions, and criminality had dealt a fatal body blow to the wretched country. Not only its physical infrastructure, but the country’s economy polity, education, social infrastructure, the arts, even culture were near total collapse. Most of my family, relatives, and friends still live in Afghanistan. I resolved for professional, personal, and moral reasons that I would be a part of the restoration, reconstruction, and rebuilding process. Witnessing both humanity and inhumanity, pain, anguish, suffering, poverty, violence, illiteracy, disease, indifference, exploitation, brutality, criminality, as well as decency, I have had no choice but to rearrange and risk my life, accept marginality in work and life here and in the U.S., and to live and work under violent, corrupt, criminalized, and inept circumstances—occupation, war, fragility, and emergency. So I have been spending and enduring a full semester here annually since 2002.
When I started serving as senior advisor to the MOHE in March 2002, this is what I found: Only a handful of the universities were functioning at a minimal level, enrolling 7,870 students, taught by 1,317 instructors. The ministry itself had about 300 employees. There was not a single female employee, student, or instructor in the entire system. The ministry itself and the universities had no regular electricity, running water, libraries, resource centers, computers, printing machines, telephones, heating and cooling, or even good manual typewriters in any language. The buildings were damaged, destroyed, dark, dingy, dilapidated, with broken windows and doors, with little to no furniture.
We inherited a non-system without any vision, mission, plan, policy, coherence, operating rules, norms or academic culture. There were no standards for admission, retention, or graduation of students and no academic criteria for hiring, retaining, or dismissing the faculty, administrators, or staff. About 6% of the faculty had doctorates, 35% had master’s degrees, and the rest had bachelor’s degrees only. The system had been isolated from international academic intellectual engagement for at least two decades. The curriculum was obsolete, bloated, redundant, incoherent, and largely irrelevant to the needs and realities of a desperately poor, underdeveloped, war-torn country. Instruction consisted of recitation, memorization, regurgitation and examination of abstract ideas, information, knowledge, theories or concept.
There was no coordination between higher education and the socioeconomic or political sectors in the country. In 2002, the entire system had a $28 million budget. There was little efficiency, transparency, accountability, or meritocracy in the system; cronyism, nepotism, and mismanagement were the norm. It was an entirely dysfunctional and substandard system.
Against All Odds
A few of us have continued our struggle against inefficiency, corruption, mismanagement, mediocrity, political interference, ethnic tensions, intellectual isolation, low budget, degraded and inadequate infrastructure, nonexistent or inadequate facilities, brain-drain, social-political demands for establishing new tertiary institutions without the wherewithal, archaic curriculum, duplication, turf wars, rigidities, and overall resistance to reform and modernization. At the same time, we have pushed reforms and innovation wherever possible. We have increased the number of women students, faculty, and staff. We have systematized and modernized the entrance exam. We have improved and expanded the physical infrastructure. We have established libraries, resource centers, laboratories, dorms, computer labs, and professional development centers.
We have been retraining the faculty in and outside the country. We provide capacity building for the administrators and staff within and outside the country. We have established partnerships with a few international universities. We have attracted assistance from governments, multilateral organizations, and nongovernmental organizations. We are sending hundreds of students to study abroad. We are encouraging academic proficiency in English and other foreign languages. We are encouraging and rewarding research. We have drafted a new higher education law. We have formed a rector’s association. We are introducing the credit system. We are working closer with the ministry of education. And we have launched a master’s degree program for teacher education faculty. We have drafted a new strategic development plan.
Beyond Crisis Management
As the previous paragraph indicates, some progress has been made, so higher education now is back to where it was in the 1970s—both qualitatively and quantitatively. There are now 23 public colleges and universities in Afghanistan enrolling about 56,000 students taught by some 2,600 faculty, supported by about 8,000 administrators and staff. Fifteen percent of the faculty, 19% of the students, and perhaps 12% of the staff are women. More than 225 instructors are studying abroad, mostly for master’s degrees and a few for doctoral degrees. There are 20 ministry-approved private institutions of higher learning in the country offering a wide variety of subjects, ranging from medicine to business administration to English language. Private postsecondary institutions (for-profit and nonprofit) enroll about 7,000 students, mostly men and some women, taught by about 300 instructors. Most of the private institutions are located in Kabul; several operate in provincial capitals.
We have made considerable progress in rebuilding higher education in Afghanistan in the last eight years, and the system now is beyond the crisis stage. We must remember though that this is a country that has been in turmoil for 32 years; it ranks toward the very bottom on overall development scales among 177 nations; it is referred to a “failed state,” “fragile state,” and/or “narcostate.” It is the second-most corrupt country in the world, it is the worst country for women and children, and it is the fourth-poorest country in the world. The country is at war, under occupation, and in a state of emergency. The society, economy, security, polity, culture, education, civil society, governance, even the environment are in a profound crisis, verging on total collapse. Everyone and all of these crises clearly manifest themselves in the higher education system. I see and experience the problems and challenges daily.
Challenges Ahead
Briefly, the Afghan system of higher education must deal with the following serious issues, challenges and problems as it moves forward.
Exploding social and political demand. In 2008, some 90,000 high school graduates took the entrance exam, but the system could absorb just 40,000 students. It is estimated that 100,000 aspirants will sit for the entrance exam later this year and 400,000 in 2014. With no prospect for work or education, what will millions of young people do? How will the country deal with this time bomb?
Lack of funds. The budget for the ministry of higher education this year is $36 million, about $1.5 million per institution, about $400 per student. The institution in the U.S. where I teach has a $12 million dollar budget for 600 students. Article 43 of the Afghan constitution guarantees free education, including room and board, for all qualified students. Instituting cost-sharing by students will certainly bring down the government. This year, government revenues amounted to about $750 million, and 90% of the total government funds come from foreign assistance, which is highly unpredictable.
Quality v. Quantity. Because of three decades of upheaval, massive brain-drain among faculty, substandard pre-collegiate schooling, the low level and obsolete training of faculty, lack of libraries, absenteeism, lack of internet access (until recently), corruption and nepotism, old and skeletal curricula, absence of meritocratic norms, etc., the quality of what is taught and learned is nothing short of a scandal.
There is little academic-intellectual integrity in the system. Most people simply go through the motions of education. Missing school doesn’t seem to bother anyone—faculty, students, or parents. I watch students and faculty at Kabul Education University who do not look or behave like a university community. The government closed all universities on November 1 ostensibly to prevent the spread of H1N1, but really to prevent demonstration or riots related to the fraudulent elections. We are told the system will reopen on March 1, 2010.
Access. Access to higher education is highly unequal, unfair, and unjust. This is a function of gender, class, geography, and ethnicity. The system simply reflects and reinforces the divisions, inequities, and polarization in society with serious socioeconomic and political consequences later on.
Governance. Every policy, law, rule, regulation, decision, and plan regarding education emanates from the ministry in Kabul, with universities and/or rectors having little to no authority whatsoever. This leads to abuse, waste, corruption, delays, bottlenecks, misunderstanding, low morale, and obstruction of creativity and innovation. Centralization is a serious issue, especially in a country with serious communication, transportation, and security problems.
Fragmentation. The 23 public institutions of higher education range from about 11,000 students at Kabul University to 100 students at Helmand Institute of Higher Learning. Half of the institutions are simply not viable and cannot and must not be considered as places of higher learning. Politics, ethnicity, and expedience drive education, too, like much else in Afghanistan. Hardly anyone is thinking about quality, academic integrity, or accreditation. Institutions simply replicate and duplicate each other without specialization, attention to locale, or evaluation of strengths and weaknesses, and this includes both the 19 private institutions and the public universities. The center does not hold and there is little articulation, streamlining or coordination amongst various institutions, or between the public and private sectors.
Lack of Articulation. There is no joint planning, cooperation, or coordination between higher education and the ministries dealing with labor, the economy, or the country’s needs. Things just happen, hence the massive un- and underemployment (50%) among college graduates and adults in general. Even the two ministries of education do not cooperate.
Anti-intellectualism within the higher education system, and in society. There is little to no academic freedom, serious research, academic culture, or even rational discourse in the university system or society. People censor and control themselves or each other, and government is part of this censorship. People are persecuted, ridiculed, threatened, interrogated, imprisoned or executed and assassinated for exercising free speech. One has to be extremely cautious, making creativity, experimentation, innovation, and rigorous discourse difficult if not impossible.
Concluding Comments
I served as senior advisor at the MOHE for five years, trying to introduce and promote structural and systemic reforms in higher education in Afghanistan. There were countless challenges, impediments, and even conspiracies. The work was exhausting, frustrating, and gratifying at the same time. For the last two years I have focused on helping develop and teach in a master’s degree program of faculty development for instructors from the 17 teacher training colleges in the country. These 44 men and women are relatively young, aware, restless, frustrated, and anxious to change education and the country itself. Although intellectually under-prepared, they are mostly eager, diligent, open and energetic. They struggle under conditions of poverty, large families, low wages, long hours, risk, insecurity, war, occupation, corruption. They battle indifference, large classes, an irrational system, reluctant students, political interference, academic censorship, and more. But they try and are clearly making progress learning and embracing modern pedagogy, typing, computer literacy, English and more. Though very diverse in ethnicity, language, religion, and location they get along, cooperate, and respect their differences in the midst of civil war plus occupation. I think about the Sisyphus story often. I have been lucky to end up where I am. And I feel a personal, moral, and intellectual obligation to make a small dent here, no matter how daunting and risky the task. I cannot abandon these people and the country. It is my calling, duty, and mission.
