Abstract
Degrees without Freedom is an anthropological study of educated and underemployed young men in two small localities in Bijnor district, Western Uttar Pradesh. The authors conducted extensive fieldwork between 2000 and 2002 to assess the outcomes of education in rural localities and what being educated meant for those who had access to formal schooling (passed Class VIII).
The first introductory chapter analyses and criticises the dominant views on education as a key factor of development and calls for a distinction to be made between the intended individual benefits of education and its actual outcomes, in a context of strong economic inequalities and scarcity of employment opportunities. It refers to various critical schools of thought on education—including Pierre Bourdieu and the School of Birmingham—that sustain their claim that ineffective education systems do succeed in generating cultural productions among youth that define their identity and shape their worldviews.
The second chapter of the book is devoted to a description of the political economy of the State, which serves as a useful reminder that the liberalisation policies implemented since the early 1990s and before have not created enough employment opportunities to absorb a growing and more educated rural-based youth population.
This context of scarcity is a source of contradictions between the intended effect of policies and the reality of their implementation. The authors argue that the scarcity of employment is also at the origin of a strong narrative that aims at mitigating the discontent that could be generated by being educated and yet remaining unemployed. The five following chapters and the conclusion develop this notion, by contrasting the responses and practices among educated Jats, Dalit and Muslim youth.
One of the main arguments made by the authors is that contrary to common wisdom, being educated is not sufficient to rise from one’s deprived or semi-deprived condition. Instead, the path towards upward social mobility remains mediated by pre-existing cultural forces and power relations, deeply entrenched in the social divisions that prevail in Uttar Pradesh—namely, castes but also religious groups.
Analysing the responses from three distinct groups—Jats, Dalits and Muslims—the authors underline the persistence of caste and class based inequalities, as the range of opportunities that can be seized through education vary greatly according to the group one belongs to. Unsurprisingly, educated Jats face less difficulty penetrating both formal and informal job markets than their Dalit or Muslim counterparts. But far from rejecting altogether an education system that does not help them to secure stable jobs, both Dalit and Muslim youth continue to aspire to a formal education, seeking from it symbolic or immaterial benefits that help them distinguish themselves within their communities and might help them in the long run to advance in life.
By focusing on the local re-appropriation of the meaning of education through an ethnographic lens, the authors unravel how education operates as a vehicle of social distinction in a rural society marked by poverty, illiteracy and deeply entrenched social divisions.
Although, the failure of the education system to deliver its promises does generate discontent and discouragement among the youth, there is, the authors argue, a common narrative formed around the idea of what it means to be educated, a conception of masculinity based on self-dignity, respectability and modernity, that helps the educated youth to distinguish himself or herself from the ‘uncouth’, ‘uncivilised’ and yes, ‘unwashed’ masses. Education provides first and foremost markers of social improvement and a means to wash away the stigma of being jobless in a deprived environment.
Interestingly, this narrative reveals aspirations of the youth that differ greatly from the often-stereotyped ‘dabang-type’ or filmy hero, usually depicted as the dominant social and cultural role model in North India.
The argument is nuanced by insisting that this narrative is not completely disconnected from expected future material benefits. In the chapter devoted to Dalit respondents, the authors underline that several of their interlocutors aspired to a political career and were already wearing the garbs of politicians, in conformity with their conception of civilised individuals. The introduction of reservations in local panchayat elections did create opportunities for aspiring young Dalit politicians but it would seem that this progression is limited to the local level.
It would have been interesting if the authors had pushed the investigation further and analysed the various blockages that prevent these aspiring local politicians to climb the political ladder, in a field where the ‘dabang type’ figures more prominently than the modern and temperate figure that these young men aspire to become through formal schooling.
These ‘new politicians’, they note, come from affluent segments of the local Dalit population, which reinforces their argument of the prevalence of pre-existing class differentiation, not only between but also within social groups.
Those who do not benefit from initial social and cultural capital—as the authors mention—do develop disillusioned and cynical narratives, and are confronted by tensions and pressures from their peers to reintegrate the conventional ‘uneducated’ mainstream (often implying going back to manual labour). This disenchantment puts the whole educational system at risk, the authors conclude, as its fate repose not only on the authorities who institute it or on its benefactors alone, but on the collective that chooses to send or not to send their children to school.
That education in itself does not play its alleged role of social and economic equaliser should not surprise the reader, as there is now a considerable body of work done on the reproduction of inequalities through the education systems in various countries—both advanced and developing.
The critical literature on education has pushed the debate further by underlining how failing education systems impact youth cultures. It is to our knowledge the first time that this question is investigated in the Indian context and this is where Degrees without Freedom is a landmark contribution to our understanding of the realities of education in rural and small-town India.
This book is part of a surging body of anthropological work dealing with the social and political in India, and demonstrates the relevance of ethnographic methods to discard common perceptions on the purpose and impact of public policies. It helps emphasise that a purely quantitative approach, consisting of dissecting public expenditures in any given sector and counting heads or units (pupils and schools, here), does not suffice to assess the social and economic impact or the efficacy of those policies.