Abstract

Introduction
This article is premised on the belief that teaching–learning practices, unlike research, do not usually undergo a rigorous peer-review process at Indian universities. One way of initiating a peer review is by generating a discussion on teaching–learning practices. Therefore, this article seeks to analyse two teaching–learning practices, which were employed in undergraduate courses on Gandhi. The practices discussed in this article are the administration of evaluation components and on-site learning activities.
The elements in this article emerged during conversations on reflective teaching between the authors—one a political scientist and the other a historian. The authors, as instructors, were involved in teaching three courses at two different universities, one public and the other private. The courses were ‘Gandhi and the contemporary world’ (a generic elective for first-year undergraduate students belonging to different disciplines other than Political Science at the University of Delhi), ‘Reading Gandhi’ (a concurrent ccourse for first-year undergraduates in Political Science in the annual mode at the University of Delhi) and ‘Gandhian Thoughts’ (a humanities elective for students of technology and science from the sophomore year at BITS Pilani). The number of students in each class varied from 40 to 80 per academic term.
These reflective-teaching conversations were grounded on the assessment received from students. The assessment was an appraisal of the instructors as well as the teaching–learning practices employed in the three courses. This student assessment or feedback was in the form of written responses to a questionnaire pro forma. The questionnaire pro forma was administered to students towards the end of the academic term and the student feedback was communicated to the instructor(s) in the following term. The entire process of administering and collecting the anonymous student feedback was completed as per an established procedure. The authors have also relied on feedback received from individual students orally and through email, whenever the institutionalized process of student assessment was delayed or unavailable.
Learning Outcomes and Evaluation Components
Most course plans indicate the course aims/objectives, but many do not clearly state the learning outcomes. Stating the learning outcomes can help in improving student learning at the university as well as in designing the evaluation components of a course. Learning outcomes indicate what a student is expected to learn on the completion of a course, or in a part of the course. These are different from course aims. The course aims are teacher-centric, while learning outcomes are learner-centric. The learning outcomes must be woven into the evaluation components. Each learning outcome ought to be knitted into one/many/all the evaluation components. The relationship between learning outcomes and the evaluation components reveals how teaching, learning and evaluation are the three sides of the same coin, and, together, these three perform a unity of functions. For the course ‘Gandhian Thoughts’, the expected learning outcomes were stated at the beginning of the academic term in the course plan (Birla Institute of Technology and Science, 2020). These are listed as follows:
On successful completion of the course, it was expected that a student would have:
gained an understanding of Gandhi—the individual, his thought and actions; upgraded her skill sets and domain knowledge by incorporating the results of recent research on Gandhi; examined the received assumptions about Gandhi; avoided a hagiography (and its obverse) of Gandhi; reflected upon radical critiques of Gandhi; and critically engaged with Gandhian thoughts and actions.
These learning outcomes corresponded to two kinds of evaluation components: (a) Written exams and (b) self-study assignment(s). The written exams were conducted in the middle (90 min) and at the end (180 min) of the academic term. These exams evaluated the performance of individual students. As the dynamics of the exams were determined by the university, the autonomy of the instructor(s) was restricted to designing the questions and in evaluating the responses. Following is a sample of three questions, which were posed in the written exams. Thereafter, the corresponding learning outcome(s) for each question is rationalized in Table 1.
1.1. Explain the context that compelled Gandhi to write the Hind Swaraj. (10 marks)
1.2. List five of the weakest arguments in the Hind Swaraj and explain why you think these are weak. (10 marks)
This is a digital facsimile of pages 62 and 63 of the Hind Swaraj manuscript (Gandhi, 1923 edition). In these pages, Gandhi has written with both his right and left hands. The original 1910 edition of the Hind Swaraj carried the disclaimer ‘no rights reserved’. A digital copy of the manuscript facsimile of the Hind Swaraj is also available at the Gandhi Heritage Portal, which is maintained by the Sabarmati Ashram Preservation and Memorial Trust, Ahmedabad (
2.1 Please cite the most attractive or innovative representation of Gandhi (or Gandhian values) in popular culture (movies/cartoons/advertisements) and explain why it has appealed to you. (4 marks)
2.2 List any three criticisms against Gandhi that you may have encountered on your own or from others and rationalize these from the point of view of the critic. (6 marks)
The written exams were, however, not without defects. One prominent drawback was that the exams contributed up to 70–75 per cent of the sum total of the evaluation components. Consequently, the exams generated anxiety among many students that impinged upon their well-being. For teachers, evaluating numerous answer scripts within a short period of time was plain drudgery. The teacher’s role as an invigilator during the conduct of exams was akin to policing students, who were potential suspects. Thus, certain features of the examination system were often shrouded in secrecy. As this may be true for many traditional universities in India, we may pause to ponder over the origins of this predicament.
Exam Questions, Course Learning Outcomes and the Bloom’s Taxonomy
The examination process is a specific aspect of the Indian university system that has experienced minimum qualitative change since 1857, when the British colonial government founded the universities of Calcutta, Bombay and Madras. These universities were modelled on the University of London, which was founded in the 1830s. The London University model focused on conducting exams rather than concentrate on teaching, learning or research. It was a university model that merely asked questions (Harte, 1986, p. 80). Consequently, the Indian university system that replicated the London model became heavily bureaucratized with a focus on exams and textbooks. That system, though still alive, has fossilized. Today, the entire examination system is founded on the strength of tradition rather than efficacy, transparency and accountability.
Gandhi himself had noted how injurious this system was to students as well as teachers. His observations about the university examination system made in 1917 are unfortunately just as valid today as it was more than a century ago.
We think our entire life depends on success at examinations. This results in great harm to the people (CWMG, vol. 16, p. 97). India never knew the institution of examinations. The method is of recent introduction. It received no great importance in the dispatch of 1854. The system has lent itself to serious abuse, every subject being taught with an eye on the examination, and the conviction firmly planted in the pupil’s mind that passing the examination was all that was necessary. The teacher, too, has got into the habit of doing his work in the same spirit, as so much drudgery. Hence, any knowledge that is acquired is superficial. Not a single subject is taught with thoroughness (CWMG, vol. 16, p. 104).
It was therefore not surprising to note that many students, though not all, enjoyed self-study assignments (equivalent to take-home assignments) over closed-book written exams. This is because such assignments allowed for greater student autonomy. The autonomy permitted the students to mature into creators rather than remain merely as consumers of knowledge. And when the assignment was completed by a team of students rather than individuals working alone, the joy of cooperative learning over competition often became more apparent. Besides, open-book self-study assignments could target the highest order of thinking skills in the Bloom’s taxonomy, such as analysis, application, evaluation, synthesis or creativity. No less important was the fact that self-study assignments offered an opportunity for incorporating the methods and results of recent research in the domain of Gandhian Studies. Notwithstanding the aforementioned details, the efficacy of this evaluation component was dependent on the manner in which the self-study assignment was executed.
The self-study assignment, for the course ‘Gandhian Thoughts’, had a particular set of dynamics. The students were given 3 weeks to choose a topic for self-study and prepare a work plan to be implemented over the next 2 months of the semester. The final outcome could be a draft written text (2,500 words maximum) or a video recorded on a digital phone with a camera (20 min maximum). Certain topics chosen by students for self-study—in the courses ‘Gandhi and the contemporary world’ and in ‘Gandhian Thoughts’—reflected a spirit of creativity. Some sample topics were ‘An analysis of the Ashram Bhajanavali’, ‘Studies on various aspects of khadi from production to marketing’ and a video reportage ‘Analysing the amenities (un)available to the end user at a Gandhi heritage site’.
The final draft of the assignment was then elaborated orally in the form of a panel discussion along with other students, whose assignments had a thematic affinity. The discussion was conducted along a few talking points: reason(s) for selecting the topic/theme; kinds of sources employed for the study; the student’s experience in engaging with those sources; as well as a critical self-assessment and, especially, the limitations of the study. The oral discussion allowed the instructor, who anchored the panel, to evaluate the thought process of the students. These sessions often became joyful learning activities for both the student and the instructor.
On-site Learning
Krishna Kumar, a former chairperson of the National Council for Educational Research and Training (NCERT), observed that teaching and learning at sites other than the conventional classroom provokes curiosity and tilts the mind towards new trajectories of thought (Kumar, 2007, pp. 12–16). This is no less true for Gandhi Studies. The course plan of ‘Gandhi in the contemporary world’ recommends a site visit to any ongoing developmental project, preferably in National Capital Territory (NCT) Delhi, and suggests that students prepare a report on the environmental law violations and people’s resistance in a Gandhian way (University of Delhi, 2015–2016). It also recommends a visit by students to any Gandhian institution in Delhi like the Gandhi Darshan and Smriti for understanding the nature of Gandhian work and encourages an interaction with Gandhian activists. However, while preparing the itinerary for on-site learning, a number of elements—such as safety of the students, travel costs, time and distance—have to be factored in by the instructor(s). After factoring in all the elements, we chose to visit the National Gandhi Museum and Library located across the road from Raj Ghat and the Birla House at Tees January Marg, New Delhi. Some of the highlights of our on-site teaching–learning experience are alluded to below.
The National Gandhi Library houses the original print editions of the Indian Opinion, Navajivan, Harijan, Harijan Bandhu and Harijan Sewak along with facsimiles of numerous Gandhi manuscripts. Browsing through such material served as a point of departure for facilitating the study of primary sources. The National Gandhi Museum also provides regular spinning lessons on the charkha. As students spun, it became feasible to discuss Gandhian values of bread-labour as well as the concept of swaraj through swadeshi. The discussion pointed the way towards reading select chapters (Chapters 39–41, Part V) of Gandhi’s autobiography. These chapters narrate Gandhi’s discovery of khadi through the efforts of Gangabehn Majmundar, innovative charkhas designed by Maganlal Gandhi and the travails of the residents at Sabarmati Ashram in resisting swadeshi capitalists (Gandhi, 1927).
Reading and spinning formed an effective combination of theory and practice, as one could discuss the rationale underlying Gandhi’s revival of the charkha. Spinning was Gandhi’s practical alternative to his theoretical critique of the factory system created by the first industrial revolution of the late eighteenth century. If the industrial revolution aided in founding the largest empire known to human history, the assault upon it was laid out at Satyagraha Ashram on the banks of the Sabarmati with the non-violent weapons of khadi and the charkha. Learning to spin on the charkha was for students of Gandhi courses a form of experiential learning. They acquired a mechanical skill, while intellectually reflecting upon that skill, its genesis and consequences to modern society.
From the National Gandhi Museum and Library, we commuted after lunch to the Birla House or Gandhi Smriti at Tees January Marg (formerly Albuquerque Road). This visit prompted a discussion on the question: Why did Godse assassinate Gandhi? A plausible response to this question was the explanation proffered by Ashis Nandy in his provocative essay ‘The final encounter’ (Nandy, 1980). The site of that final encounter happened to be the home of Ghanshyam Das Birla—the chief financier of Gandhi’s ashrams and social projects. How could Gandhi, who was critical of the factory system and one who wielded the charkha, receive financial support from a textile magnate? The responses to this question opened up the possibility of exploring Gandhi’s economic principles: the idea of trusteeship and the practice of running cooperatives as an alternative to capitalism with such successful examples like Amul, which was born out of the Gandhian movement in Gujarat.
Our schedule from dawn to dusk permitted us to visit merely two sites in Delhi. However, there are at least half a dozen sites in the city that could be on any Gandhitopia itinerary, 2 including the Ambedkar Museum in Civil Lines. For one cannot understand Gandhi without reference to Ambedkar. A visit to each site may be similar to reading a palimpsest, as one unravels the layers of Gandhian thought and action at that particular site.
Conclusion
This article began with an analysis of the application of two particular teaching–learning practices in undergraduate courses centred on Gandhi. While concluding this article, it may be appropriate to move from the particular to the general. So, in this final section, we pose four generic questions and offer provisional responses to each one. Those questions are: How do we understand teaching–learning? How did Gandhi envision the role of the teacher and her relationship with the students? Why should universities have a course on Gandhi as part of the undergraduate curriculum? And, how could a Gandhi course be taught?
We understand teaching–learning as an activity that is intellectual, academic and social, whereby teachers are facilitators of the learning process. Teachers as facilitators share their knowledge, its relevance and skill sets. It is equally important that teachers share their own experiences as learners. This may be pertinent because learners were often keen to know the route of arrival of what was believed to be knowledge. For Gandhi, however, the teacher was primarily a student of his own students. One might not entirely agree with this view given below, but it is, nonetheless, an insightful perspective on teaching–learning.
A teacher who establishes rapport with the taught, becomes one with them, learns more from them than he teaches them. He who learns nothing from his disciples is, in my opinion, worthless. Whenever I talk with someone, I learn from him. I take from him more than I give him. In this way, a true teacher regards himself as a student of his students. If you will teach your pupils with this attitude, you will benefit much from them (CWMG, vol. 81, p. 476).
There could be a number of reasons for rationalizing an undergraduate course on Gandhi, but we may list two. First, Gandhi’s application of the principle of ahimsa to those causes he held dear is worth re-examining. It is worth re-examining because Gandhi’s experiences might offer us insights, if non-violence were to become our life-style choice for today’s world, which is rife with anxiety and violence. Second, Gandhi is a useful window for studying India and an inevitable reference point for understanding this country as a civilization. Irrespective of whether these reasons are persuasive or otherwise, one cannot possibly disagree with the comment of Professor Awadh Kumar Saran on how Gandhi could be taught at the university level.
Forty years ago, in October 1979, Professor Saran published an article in Gandhi Marg titled ‘On the promotion of Gandhi Studies at the university level’ (Saran, 1979). He argued that:
Gandhian thinking was radical, deeply human and highly subversive in relation to status quo […] the most sophisticated danger from which it has to be preserved is –the university. A sure, smooth, and ‘non-violent’ way to kill the spirit of Gandhian thinking is to introduce it into university syllabi. If I am serious about Gandhian thinking, I would save it from the deadly hands of our universities: maybe there are some exceptions, but most of our universities are dead and deadly places-stricken areas from which all living things have to be kept at a safe distance. […] the mighty, indomitable forces of co-option and suction will slowly and steadily maim and undermine the spirit, the meaning, and the potential élan of the Gandhian way.
The purport of Saran’s devastating assessment of Gandhi Studies at Indian universities was that any course on Gandhi must necessarily be transgressive. In sum, for studying Gandhi, the teaching process must be transgressive if learning were to be effective.
Postscript
Research and documentation on teaching–learning practices in Politics at Indian universities is an emerging domain. Valuable nuances that transpire in cross-cultural conversations and inter-institutional discussions often remain unrecorded. Crediting names, even if the list transcends the conventional acknowledgement note, is a way of redeeming un-archived discussions that this article has benefited from: Ashok Acharya, Rajeev Bhargava, Neera Chandoke, R. Narayanan and Sriranjani V. for creating academic resources for students of Politics; Jorge Adame, Alfredo López Austin and Harsh Pant for highlighting the role of experience and rigour in undergraduate teaching; G. N. Devy, Ron Margolin, Vibha Parthasarathi and Avijit Pathak for discussions on Gandhi; Meenakshi Gopinath, Enrique González and Krishna Menon for learner-centric teaching; Pietro Ameglio, Manash Bhattacharjee, Nabanipa Bhattacharjee, Shashank Chaturvedi, Samik Chowdhury, Tal Correm, Rup Narayan Das, Praveen Dhanda, Jeremy Fogel, Alex George, Mohammed Irshad, Sanjeev Kumar, Bidhan Laishram, Vinay Lal, Rinku Lamba, Ramesh Mallipeddi, Siddharth Mallavarapu, Babli Moitra Saraf, Jyoti Trehan Sharma, Yogendra Sharma, Mugdha Sinha, Sulekh Suman, Pragya Parmita and Ruchi Shree for facilitating collaborative academic practices related to Gandhi; Akansha, Shagufta, Meenakshi Buragohain, Sanjukta Das, Shruti Dubey, Papori Konwar, Jaya Mishra, Monica Nandi, Ankita Pandey, Namita Pandey, Upasana Pandey (†), Abdul Rahman, Shubhra Seth, Shivani Sharma, Kshipra Sharma, Kunal Kishore, Kuldip Kumar, Swati Pal, Shailza Singh, Anshu Srivastava and Lianboi Vaiphei for teaching Politics through teamwork; Tania Alarcón, Kanti Bajpai, Mayurika Chakravorty, María del Carmen León Cazares and Lakshminarayanan Samavedham for their inputs on managing class work, course plans, learning outcomes and teaching dossiers; Shamik Chakraborty, Ram Shankar Patel, Asoke Sarkar and Arunachalam Vasan for institutionalizing teaching–learning practices; Sundar B. for online learning; Armando Pavón and Varun Sahni for incorporating glocal teaching–learning practices through academic administration; Sachin Belgamwar, Somdatta Bhattacharya, Tapomoy Guha Sarkar, Ishan Mata, Rajan Pandey, Saumi Ray, Aniruddha Roy, Kaushar Vaidya, Prachi Venkat and Anupam Yadav for their inputs on teachers’ roles in supporting students and ethical practices in teaching–learning; for facilitating on-site learning activities: Ansar Ali and Anil Kumar at the National Gandhi Museum; Padma Anand, Amit Khoda and the cataloguers at the National Gandhi Library; V. N. Dhaulakhandi and Vikramjeet Singh Arora at the Gandhi Gallery of the Birla Science Centre, Pilani; the library staff at Mani Bhavan, Bombay; Giridhar Kunkur, Ishappa Bandi and Deepak Mehta at the BITS Library, Pilani; many classes of students at BITS Pilani, Sri Venkateswara and Indraprastha colleges of the University of Delhi for collaborating in teaching–learning experiments; Divyaraj Amiya, Godavari Devi (†), Rabindra Mohan Das (†), Rabi and Kirti Das (†), Swati Das, Nandakumar Janardhanan, Ianosha Majaw (†), Gopi Nair, Sujata Rout, Sridevi Thankachi and Gopikrishnan G. for their intangible assistance; and Rajeshwari Deshpande for her insights and encouragement.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The authors declared no potential conflict of interests with respect to the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The authors received no financial support for the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.
