Chapter IV: Eastern Bengal and Assam

“A woman’s place in the National life will now best be filled by the realization of herself; she must grow to her full stature, taking as her due her share of God’s light and air, of the gifts of the Earth-Mother.” +C. SORABJI.+

To pass from the sunny smiling country of the Burmese to Dacca, the capital of Eastern Bengal and Assam,[61] is to enter a scene of strange contrast, and one marked by monotone and inertia. The brilliant Eastern sun shines down, but its rays are caught by no golden roofs and domes; sombre grey stone meets the eye, with here and there traces of the carving and colouring left by the alerter men of centuries ago; there are no smiling happy groups of women busy with the day’s work, their gay garments bright against the background of tropical green, but only here and there ghostly figures clad in _burqas_,[62] or some scantily draped “sweeper” women, little heeding, and as little heeded. A strange town it is, with a strange mixture of civilizations, and yet possessing withal a certain charm of latent capability. Relics of a Hindu past are there, almost lost beneath the Moslem dominance of the thirteenth century, which brought with it some of the glory of architecture and the learning of Upper India, but seemed to take on the colourlessness of the land to which it came, winning chiefly the lower classes; now the new Western influence has come, and has given to the Bengali, by means of education, a unity which repudiates its source, thus creating a young India awake and alert. The diverse characteristics of the capital are in a sense typical of the diversity of the whole province and of the problems of its administration and development. The new province created by the Partition in 1905 includes the territories formerly administered by the Chief Commissioner of Assam, to which have been added certain districts lying on the Eastern side of the bay of Bengal, the river regions of the Padua and the Jumna, and the Chittagong division which borders on the Burmese hill district. It thus includes large city populations, such as Dacca with over 90,000 inhabitants, and great river districts such as Sylhet, and the Padua Meghna Delta, with its intersecting channels, which in the rainy season multiply by the hundred till the country is a network of waterways, and in which every brown boy is as much at home as he is on land--a country of villages and of rich abundant harvests, where the monsoon fails not, and famine is unknown. Then there are the hill districts--the Khasi and Garo Hills, the native states of Manipur and Tippera, and the country bordering on Burma, where a strong and vigorous people, marked by a hardy independence, are only gradually being touched by modern civilization. While the educational problem is mainly a rural one--in 1901 only 2% were enumerated in the sixty one towns--the urban minority, with its demand for higher education, cannot be ignored.

Female education in Eastern Bengal has certain aspects which make it differ from that in other provinces, and render it a peculiarly interesting study. Whereas elsewhere we shall trace the development of the three different influences--the spontaneous Indian movement, missionary efforts, and the work of Government, the last, in varying degrees, a unifying and co-ordinating agency--here we have one well-organized Government Female Education Committee, on which all these interests are represented, and by which a unified policy is in process of being worked out. This Committee was appointed after the Partition in 1907, to work under the Director of Public Instruction, and consists of those officials directly concerned, of non-officials of various creeds, of representatives of several missionary agencies, and of a few Indian and British ladies selected mainly for their interest in such matters. It is in no sense a popular body, and it has no executive function; but it has done some extremely useful work.

Its policy has been to survey the field, taking into account the diverse and complicated nature of the task to be accomplished, to utilize so far as possible all existing agencies, and to plan a thorough and scientific scheme embracing all classes. The development of this scheme must be one of slow and patient labour. No great social scheme which is to have permanent results can be enforced in a revolutionary or sudden way, and least of all where prejudice has to be overcome, where public opinion must be influenced, and where possibly the passing of generations and the influence of heredity are needed for its fruition. In a sense the very backwardness of the province is its opportunity. The possibility before it of laying foundations on sound educational principles, of using the experience gained by other provinces in the adaptation of certain types of institutions to local conditions, of surveying the whole field without haste, and of making a systematic effort to raise all classes and all sections of the population, augurs well for the future standing of the province, and may produce a better type of education than that which has developed more quickly and more sporadically elsewhere.

A sketch of the present situation must naturally take as its centre the work of this Committee, the result of its survey of the classes affected, its utilization of existing agencies, its constructive work, and the practicable character of its aims.

What, then, of the actual girls to be educated? The classes affected are many and diverse, education and rank often varying in inverse proportion; the educational and the social problems are here again so closely interwoven that the holding of parda parties has a very definite relation to the statistics of school attendance. The Indian Christians, of whom there are over 66,000, mostly living in the Khasi and Jaintia Hills are naturally keenly eager for education, and contribute considerably to the supply of teachers. About the non-Christians it is impossible to generalize.[63] From the young Begum[64] directly descended from one of the Moslem invaders to the child of some peasant woman, who grudges her from the work of the field to the seemingly profitless village school, is a far cry, and the gamut of possibilities lies between. Here is a high-born Moslem girl, whose male relatives hold University degrees and Government appointments, and who will allow a certain advance to their women-folk, but no more. For instance, an English teacher may be admitted for a few hours a day, or if the family be wealthy and of sufficient rank, an English governess may be secured to devote her whole time to the pupils. Here is another still so tied by conservatism that she may not see English ladies or learn of modern thought. Her male relatives may give her the smattering of Koranic lore which is necessary for religion. The Mohammedan women of the upper class can nearly all read Urdu, and are clever with their needles. Here is a girl of the Brāhma-Samāj, supposed to be free, and yet one might almost say shy of her freedom, with every opportunity to take the higher education which would fit her for social influence, she yet ceases her studies when only some three standards beyond her Hindu sister. Another girl with the same up-bringing has sufficient strength and determination to persevere through the whole course and finish with Normal training or University honours. There is a strong demand for education up to a certain stage also among the Brahmans, Kayasths,[65] and Baidyas,[66] a demand which is, however, limited to the few years before the _parda_ is strictly drawn, an event which happens between the ages of eight and eleven. Then there are the lower class Mohammedans, who are anxious only for Koranic education, the Namasudras,[67] whose intellect is at so low a level that a whole term may be spent in acquiring a single letter of the alphabet, and the bill tribes where _parda_ is non-existent, and where in certain cases the women are more literate than the men. The whole enumeration shows how very diverse and complex are the classes for whom education must be planned.

Passing to the agencies at work, there have been in the more advanced portions of the province, apart from Government and the municipalities, spontaneous efforts to educate girls. Some of the present village schools are of this indigenous type, and are kept possibly by an elderly Hindu pandit and his wife, where little girls are collected for a few hours daily--not stated hours--and drone over Bengali books of an archaic type, in an ill-ventilated room. The result of this education may be the ability to recite certain shlokas[68] and to check a marketing account, or merely the prestige in the marriage market of having been to school. Where it is possible to improve schools of this type or standard, they fall into the general scheme, but as a rule they are “passed by on the other side.” The Mahakali Patshala,[69] started in 1907 at Mymensingh, represents again spontaneous effort of a more advanced type, and is an attempt to give a modern and strictly religious education on Hindu lines. This institution is much more advanced than the parent Patshala, described on page 113. The Mohammedan community have been more backward in organizing schools; a circular sent out by a Sub-Committee on behalf of the Government to various Mohammedan associations produced very few replies, including the following: “But it is not proper time for starting Mohammedan female education, as the people are not willing to have their girls educated.” There is, however, a certain number of Muktabs or Koranic schools, where girls are taught what is necessary for religion, and in some cases a little secular knowledge.

The most important missionary agencies in the province are the Baptists from Australia, New Zealand, America, and England, and the Welsh Presbyterians, all of whom are carrying on good educational work. The Sisters of the Oxford Mission have also entered the field more recently. Taken as a whole the missionary contribution is, however, much smaller than in other provinces. The best vernacular school for girls in Dacca is that which has a hostel attached of the English Baptist Mission, and the training of teachers at Nowgong in the hill districts is proving specially useful to Government. This can be better considered later in relation to the hill districts as a whole. The mission schools are a welcome addition to the educational scheme, and it is satisfactory to note the cordial relations and co-operation between their organizers and the Government officials. As regards their extension, if new schools were contemplated in a town or district where a good accessible school already existed, grants would probably not be given, but as the field is practically unlimited, the question is merely academic.

Thus the constructive policy of the Government Committee[70] embraces these existing agencies and all schools entirely under public control, whether municipal or directly under Government. The Committee aims at the ideal of a Primary school in every village, in more populous centres the raising of a certain number of these to schools of a rather better type, the establishment of a Government school (Middle or Anglo-Vernacular) in the headquarters of every division, the warm encouragement of all private Middle schools, and the development of some definite system of _parda_ instruction which could reach the higher and stricter classes. The system is completed by three existent High schools. Taking these different stages in order we must first consider the Primary schools.

There were in 1909, 4501 Primary schools in the whole Province, an increase of about 800 on the preceding year. Assam and the Surma Valley are scantily provided. The establishment of a sound system of Primary schools is naturally the chief aim, but its attainment depends on the development of a thoroughly efficient staff of teachers. The word “primary” covers a multitude of sins, and is very varied in its application. Here, for instance, is a school of the aided type in a village of over 6000 inhabitants. The little girls are crushed together on ill-constructed benches in an ill-ventilated room, agonizing in different degrees of shyness under the thrilling ordeal of a visitor. All of them are Hindus, for the Mohammedans do not go to school in this village. Apparently there is scarcely any system of classification except for the broad distinction of “little” and “less.” All are under eleven years of age and, according to the village custom, have walked to school in charge of the school servant. The school is supposed to teach up to Standard III, but every girl who leaves able to read and write, and not much injured in health from sitting daily for five hours in a cramped position, may consider herself lucky. The attempts of itinerant Sub-Inspectors at teaching the venerable pandit how to teach, have fallen on unscathed shoulders, yet there is a certain pathos in the owl-like glance with which he fixes the two Sub-Inspectors, who answer all the visitor’s questions without the least reference to him. For the pandit knows that his day is done--a new school is in process of erection, and an energetic Sub-Divisional Officer is on the outlook for a trained schoolmistress. With the passing of the pandit will go much of the quaintness of the Indian school, which sentimentally may be regretted, but which must yield place to the modern demand for efficiency. It is refreshing to turn to a school of the new order, an urban one. The day is wet, so only twenty-five out of forty pupils are present, Hindus chiefly, of the Kayasth caste. The three lowest classes are happily seated on matting with a tiny desk in front; the older ones are still swinging their feet on too high a bench--but what good is there in having Inspectresses if there is nothing to improve? A tidy time-table on the wall shows the rotation of lessons. There are shells for arithmetic, maps and object-lesson sheets, there is space for drill or breathing exercises at the end of every hour, there are neat specimens of sewing (not perennial ones which have survived many an inspection) and above all, there is a happy smiling mistress, whose personality inspires new ideals and new thoughts. A bright little maiden of eleven in a blue and gold sari, who gaily translates an Urdu conversation into Bengali, has designs on a scholarship for the Eden High School, and perhaps some day she, too, may be an “Ustani”[71] as wondrous wise as her mistress. This is the bright side of things, but it shows the possibilities which lie under dry statistics. The recent report of 1910 on Primary schools in the town of Dacca shows an increase of about 200 girls in one year. Of the sixteen schools, twelve are now provided with mistresses and the general progress is satisfactory, although there are still many difficulties to overcome, especially if the proportional increase in the number of pupils exceeds, as is probable, that of the trained teachers available, and proper space is lacking. The problem in Dacca is typical of the urban problem throughout. Primary education in the hill districts is of a different type.

The Middle Schools, partly English and partly only vernacular, are some twenty in number, varying in type from a long established school such as the Alexandra Girls’ School at Mymensingh, with ten teachers, and a Head-mistress from the Isabella Thoburn College,[72] to one which has only six scholars beyond the Primary stage and one mistress, but which must be raised in standard and type for the sake of the district. The generosity of the native landowners is to be noted in connection with these schools; in two cases a whole new building and site have been acquired in this way.

All roads lead to Mecca, and all pursuit of higher education in Eastern Bengal tends to the Eden Girls’ High School, Dacca, where, under the supervision of Miss Lena Sorabji, the portals of Calcutta University are successfully reached. This school is the Model High School for the province, the two others at Chittagong and Mymensingh are not as yet so efficiently staffed or equipped, though that at Chittagong holds its own at the Matriculation examination. There are some two hundred girls in the Eden High School, mostly Hindu, with a fair proportion of Brāhma-Samāj and Mohammedan girls, including also a few Christians. The curriculum is that of a first-class English High school in its relation to the Matriculation subjects. In the lower classes the scientific principles of education are in full vogue, story and group method, with an excellent Kindergarten apparatus. The teachers are mostly Indian with three Anglo-Indians, and there is also a very efficient music mistress. Moral instruction is given, and there is throughout an excellent tone. It is possible to attend the school and keep strict _parda_, a young Begum has recently been assigned to it by the Court of Wards in order to complete her education. A very important feature of the school is the Training department, in which teachers are trained for the Bengali-speaking parts of the province. (Assamese teachers are trained at Nowgong and the Hill Districts in Shillong.) Training is given free on condition of teaching in a Government school for two years thereafter. There is both an English and a Vernacular course, and the effect of the latter can be seen in such schools as the Primary school sketched above. There are three students at present in the English department, and twenty-two in the Vernacular. Any girls passing the Matriculation examination from here are certain of Government scholarships, or “stipends” as they are called, to the University of Calcutta. The only drawback at present is the lack of space, but plans are already definitely formed, and a site secured for new buildings, which will ultimately include a College department.

But when all is said, it is only an infinitesimal fraction of the female community which is touched by the Middle and High schools. The fourth sphere of the Committee’s work, the organizing of a definite system of _parda_ instruction, is therefore in some ways the most important. Many important and far-reaching influences are at work behind the veil, and it is here, too, that the influence of the Education Committee must be felt. A comparison of the numbers attending Primary schools (84,798) with those attending High and Middle schools (1846), shows how limited is the school period for the average girl. The _parda_ instruction to a certain extent supplements the education of those children who are withdrawn for marriage at about ten years of age. On the other hand, as the number of girls of school age at school is only 3%, a certain amount of this work is amongst the absolutely illiterate older women, though the minimum age of ten prevents overlapping with the Primary schools. A further aim is to create a more friendly atmosphere in the zenanas towards the whole question of education. In some cases it is an immediately fruitful work, in others a sowing of seed for the future. There are now some 600 girls and women under instruction of this type in seven different towns, the classes in Dacca being most fully developed. Here there are four governesses at work, each with six centres to teach. Two of them are Mohammedans, one Brāhma-Samāj, and one Christian, the last under missionary superintendence. The education given is of the simplest type, including, however, in some cases drawing, painting, history, and geography. Indeed when the circumstances are taken into consideration it could hardly be otherwise; the classes are held in the houses of progressive men, rich or poor, and consist as a rule solely of the women of the household and their immediate neighbours, the numbers varying from six to about twenty. The ages of the pupils vary from eight to fifty, all are at different stages, all are irregular in attendance, many are accompanied by babies, and the class generally ends in individual instruction. Yet progress is being made, and it is good to see the group of daintily dressed women awaiting the arrival of the teacher who forms their link with the outer world. A very great deal depends on her personality and skill in overcoming prejudice. One of the teachers is a Mohammedan lady of good position, the wife of a pleader; she drives in strict _parda_ to and from her work, and has naturally inspired other strict Mohammedans with confidence in the scheme. Recently an English governess has begun work in Dacca under the Committee, but in her case there is a binding fee of five rupees for every family who employs her. The system is one which is peculiarly adapted to Eastern Bengal with its strict _parda_ customs, and though expensive to Government,[73] is in the meantime more than worth while in its indirect influence in breaking down prejudice and supplementing the whole system of instruction.

Education in the Hill Districts reveals a somewhat different problem. There is no _parda_, co-education is frequent, and suits the customs of the people. A Lushai writer dealing with this says: “The men and women are all on the same footing, except in some cases, where the women are master.” In the hill tracts of Assam, some 2551 girls are studying in boys’ schools and 701 in separate girls’ schools, practically all of the latter and a large proportion of the former are worked by the missions, which are doing excellent service to education. The schools are much appreciated, and the Government grant of 4022 rupees to the mission schools is almost equalled by the contributions of the people themselves. Special arrangements are being made by Government with the American Baptist Mission at Nowgong for the training of Government teachers in the Mission Training School. In some parts education is absolutely at a standstill; for example, in the Mikir hills, “female education is supposed to have perished fifteen years ago with the death of its only representative, a young girl of Nowgong!” In Chittagong Hill District the opposition is that of a wild uncivilized people. A boarding-school is the only possibility, but that seems too terrible! The parents are half-civilized, and will send a child for one month and withdraw her the next; the children, moreover, have their own way. “If the parents say their girl shall go to school, and she says ‘I will not,’ she does not go.” There are at present seven precious pupils in the Mission Girls’ school at Chandra Ghona. In Tippera there is much opposition. Twenty-five girls are, however, reported in three mission schools in the latter district. An interesting account of indigenous schools comes from a lady missionary working in one of the hill districts: “There are some small Primary independent village schools taught by Hindu men or women voluntarily. Some of these receive Government aid, and some do not. The parents of the scholars contribute a little towards the teacher’s support, and supply the school-house. It is generally believed that the visits of a missionary to such schools lend prestige to them, and the children are encouraged to attend by the small rewards given by the missionary for attendance and Scripture knowledge. Hence such scholars invariably welcome regular visits.” The main problems are those of co-education, the training of teachers, and the multiplicity of dialects. Steps are also being taken to develop weaving and local industries in many parts for the less advanced tribes.

Such in brief outline is the Government policy for female education. How far is it a living reality? “The moment imagination has gone out of your Asiatic policy, your Empire will divide and decay.”[74] How far is there imagination in the educational policy? How far is it magnetic, flexible, and inspiring? A policy, of necessity, is reflected by the persons who administer it, the inspectorate and teaching staffs, the organizing Committee, and the general social attitude of the community. The task of the Inspectorate is no easy one, and the word calls up visions of many successive nights spent in bullock carts, in trains, and on horseback to reach the inaccessible parts of an inaccessible province, a multitude of detail, and little time to relate it consciously to the underlying principles. To the casual onlooker taking into account the general social conditions of Indian life, it hardly seems work which a woman should do, and yet it is work which must be done by women. Indian girls can only be well taught by women, and this necessitates a female Inspectorate at least for the upper grades. From 1908 to 1911 there was only one Inspectress in the province, and in 1909 two assistant Inspectresses were appointed; an additional appointment has, however, recently been made for the Chittagong and Surma Valley Districts. A further increase would greatly facilitate the development of the work, and would probably repay in efficiency the extra expense. There is a great deal written and said about the denationalizing influence of education, and the need for bringing our system into touch with Indian thought and Indian life. More especially in the present case, when a new policy is being shaped, there is need for flexibility in the system and an Inspectorate closely in touch with the inner side of Indian home life. What should an Indian girl know? What will fit her best to hold aright her true place; what will render her happier and more intelligent, retaining her Sita-like devotion and her gentle bearing? The planning of a curriculum and teacher’s manual in relation to this aim is no easy task, and it remains to be seen whether the new manuals, the work of the first Inspectress, will have fulfilled these demands. Some women are born teachers, and some have teaching thrust upon them. In India the old ideal of teaching is that of a vocation; the bread of life is given freely by those who have to those who have not. Modern conditions have of necessity modified this ideal to a certain extent, but its spirit is still needed. The great scarcity of women teachers, and consequent certainty of employment, tends to lower the standard of character and efficiency. The teacher who will only do her own “kām,”[75] and not lend a helping hand to others, who is ever listening for the stroke of the clock, who is quick to take offence and ill to conciliate, is known in this province as elsewhere. The lack of a common religious basis as a ground of appeal is undoubtedly felt; the establishment of Teacher’s Associations in the urban centres, and, where possible, of the Young Women’s Christian Association Teachers Union, might be useful. It is to be regretted that very few of the teachers are not drawn from the families of upper class; the work done by one of the Mohammedan governesses in Dacca is an evidence of what can be accomplished in this way even without scientific training. There are, however, some splendid Indian women teachers, contact with whom is an inspiration, and it is to be hoped that the influence of the training classes in the Eden High School at Nowgong and at Shillong may gradually raise the general tone. Here, as in Burma, is the great means of counteracting anglicizing influences; education is the communication of personality, and the ideal Indian school of the future must have Indian teachers. The instilling of the principles of educational science and of true culture in Indian teachers, until these are no longer slavishly reproduced but lived and worked out in relation to Indian environment, is the task of the Western educator.

The success of any policy depends upon how closely it is in touch with the spirit of the community, and the wisdom of connecting a local committee with the management of every Middle and High school is unquestioned; these Committees are supposed to consist of equal numbers of men and women, and indeed the Government grant is often given only on condition of there being an efficient working Committee. There are also ladies’ committees in connection with the zenana classes in the urban centres. It has, however, been exceedingly difficult to secure the necessary ladies for this work, for the supply of educated Indian ladies is very limited, and English women, because of the shortness of their stay in any one district, are unwilling to undertake it. Some of the officials’ wives have, however, given splendid service in this way, and even if it is only a passing service it is more than worth while. The work of these committees in the breaking down of social prejudice and ensuring the confidence of the community is untold. There is, as has been already said, a definite connection between _parda_ parties and school attendance. The _parda_ party as a social institution in other provinces has come to stay. It is perhaps a pity that here it has had a certain shadow cast upon it of officialdom and organization. The spontaneous and individual effort is quickly felt and appreciated by Indian ladies. It must come also from a genuine and mutual desire for intercourse and not from any _sous-entendu_ motive of pity or “bridge the gulf” idea. Indian ladies have their own contribution to make to the unifying of ideals not only between Indian and English, but between Indian and Indian. “The less said about _parda_ parties and the more held,” is probably a wise dictum. The work on some of the educational sub-committees will, however, often give an English lady the direct contact with Indian life which is so much needed.

The outlook for women’s education throughout the province is in many respects a hopeful one; enthusiasts are working at it, there is a steadily increasing flow of girls coming to the schools; a teaching staff is gradually being built up, suitable text-books and manuals are being produced. The generosity of a Government, hampered by finance in every way, to this scheme, is a stamp of warm approval. No great social undertaking, however, is fulfilled in haste, and least of all where sympathy and the silent influence of individual friendship are needed to pave the way for it.