The History of the Right to Education Act

Speaking to a group of young professionals and interns at the Planning Commission a couple of months ago, at the invitation of my old friend and colleague, Pawan Agarwal, I realised that many of us are unaware of the background to the Right to Education Act.  Why indeed, did Parliament find it necessary to consider making education a Fundamental Right, much before it considered a Right to Food or a Right to Livelihood?  Here’s the full story.

From the earliest times, education in India had always been exclusive; only the Brahmins and some very rich families had opportunities for their children to be educated.  The rest managed by acquiring the skills they needed to earn their livelihood.  It was only towards the end of the nineteenth century, as the Freedom Movement began to pick up momentum, that a demand for mass education began to be articulated.  Among other things, leaders of the time realised that education was a tool that could be used to mobilise the masses, thereby increasing the pressure on the British to consider leaving.  For instance, one of the earliest political steps initiated in Gujarat in the 1920s by Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel involved taking over the management of local municipal schools.

The first formal demand for compulsory primary education was raised in 1910 by Gopal Krishna Gokhale, who introduced a Bill for the purpose in the Legislative Council, based on Britain’s own Compulsory Education Act of 1870.  Not surprisingly, it saw no progress.  Mahatma Gandhi called for universal primary education in the 1930s; an apocryphal tale says that he was told by the wise men that primary education could only be universalised by imposing a cess on liquor sales, thus forcing him to choose between two deeply held beliefs.  Gandhi, being the man he was, is reported to have retorted that if the only way to educate India’s children was through a cess on liquor revenues, it was better for them to stay uneducated!  His articulation of Nai Talim in 1937 was thus at least partially in response to those who believed that education was not for the masses.

The debates in the Constituent Assembly link the question of education intimately to the very foundation of our democracy.  When the issue of suffrage was debated, one school of thought held that only educated citizens should be allowed to vote.  Nehru, Ambedkar and others differed, holding that it would be unacceptable to fritter away freedom hard won from the British by creating yet another society that differentiated between its citizens.  They believed, and said so forcefully, that every citizen of the fledgling democracy then being fashioned should be treated as an equal, such equality being translated into universal adult suffrage, or the right of every citizen to participate in our democracy.

What a powerful vision of the future our founding fathers had, and what a leap of faith they took!  To be so forward thinking in the late 1940s as to imagine a country in which everyone, high or low, rich or poor, educated or illiterate, could participate in was unbelievably hopeful.  Remember that these were people who had themselves grown up in a country ruled by foreigners, and in a world order that took things like caste and social stratification for granted.  The reach and scope of their forethought is almost dizzying in its audacity.

And yet, though they wished to make education the bedrock of our democracy, sadly they were unable to overcome the constraints of resources.  Despite its best efforts, the sub-committee set up by the Constituent Assembly reluctantly concluded that it would not be possible for the newly independent India to fund universal primary education as a Fundamental Right; as a compromise, the Assembly agreed to include reference to free and compulsory education as a Directive Principle of State Policy in Article 45[1] of the new Constitution.  And in a nod to the importance of this provision, the Article was the only one that came with a time frame of ten years for its implementation.

Unfortunately the time frame of ten years was never respected, and even though an attempt was made to articulate a vision for education through the National Policy on Education in 1968, it remained largely forgotten till the early eighties.  The declaration of a new National Policy on Education in 1986 marked a revival of interest in the subject, and was accompanied by international commitments made in the nineties (Education for All, UN Convention on the Rights of the Child, etc), as well as greater civil society and governmental action.

The judiciary also played an important role in steering the country towards a universal right to education.  In the case of Mohini Jain vs State of Karnataka & Ors in 1992, the Supreme Court held that the right to education is concomitant to the right to life, that every citizen had a right to education, and significantly, that the very act of recognition by government of a privately managed institution created an instrument of State that could be used to deliver the obligations of the State.  Reviewing this decision in 1993, the Supreme Court, in the case of J P Unnikrishnan vs State of Andhra Pradesh & Ors, held that the right to education is implicit in and flows from the right to life guaranteed under Art 21, and that every child has a right to free education until she completes the age of 14 years; thereafter her right is circumscribed by the economic capacity of the State.

Both these judgments were significant in bringing about the right to education.  It was as a result of the latter judgment that the Constitution was amended through the Constitution (86^th Amendment) Act of 2002, which introduced a new Article 21A providing that “the State shall provide free and compulsory education to all children of the age of six to fourteen years in such manner as the State may, by law, determine”.

The Amendment Act also modified the original Article 45, to now provide that “the State shall endeavour to provide early childhood care and education for all children until they complete the age of six years".  And finally, it modified Article 51, to stipulate that it would be a Fundamental Duty of every parent/guardian to provide opportunities for the education of their children/wards.

Unlike other Fundamental Rights in the Constitution however, this one was worded in a manner that made the enactment of a specific legislation essential for its operationalisation (the critical words being “in such manner as the State may, by law, determine”).  Thus it was that several versions of the Central law were drafted and discussed between 2003 and 2009, before the law was finally passed as The Right of Children to Free and Compulsory Education Act, 2009.

So there you have it – the story of the Fundamental Right to Education guaranteed by our Constitution.  A right that is deeply linked to our identity as citizens, and to the quality of our participation in the democracy that is India.

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[1] “The State shall endeavour to provide, within a period of ten years from the commencement of this Constitution, for free and compulsory education for all children until they complete the age of fourteen years.”

Acknowledging The Other Half

In the morning newspaper, I came across this article by my old friend and colleague, Rukmini Banerji of Pratham.  Rukmini makes the very strong case that having addressed the issue of providing access to most children, we need to focus on ensuring that children receive quality education; merely enrolling children in school is obviously only half the job done.  More importantly, all children must receive quality education as part of the Right to Education Act, and not just the ones who go to government schools.

Of the 1.3 million schools in India, only about 300,000 are in the private sector; the rest are run by government.  Yet according to some estimates, these 300,000 schools account for fully 40 percent of all enrolments; the schools themselves range from unrecognised budget schools to very high-end premium schools.  Clearly, the non-government sector accounts for a very significant chunk of the total child population.

Rukmini’s argument is a simple one – in a country where such large numbers of children attend schools managed by agencies other than government, can we afford to focus only on the needs of only those who attend government schools?  This is why the Annual Status of Education Report (ASER) brought out by Pratham makes it a point to survey children at home and not in the classroom, so that as many children as possible can be covered, whether enrolled in any school or not, whether attending or not.  On the other hand, the NCERT’s Assessment Survey (NAS) includes only children enrolled in and attending government and aided schools.  Naturally, the results of both surveys are vastly different.

But the point of this piece is not to get into the debate about survey results or methodology.  Rukmini’s article set me thinking about the way education, particularly at school level, is viewed by the political establishment.  I decided therefore, to take a closer look at the manifestos of the major political parties to understand their respective positions.

Not surprisingly, I found a singular lack of vision or understanding across the board.  Almost all the manifestos repeat tired old clichés about generally strengthening the education system, revamping the Sarva Shiksha Abhiyan (SSA) scheme, universalising secondary education or improving skills development, without providing any details.  And only the Grand Old Party talks about a possible role for the private sector, committing itself to “exploring possible partnerships with the private sector in the delivery of education”.  Perhaps because they remember that the 12^th Five Year Plan categorically states that “...private providers (including NGOs and nonprofits) can play an important role in elementary education.  Their legitimate role in expanding elementary education needs to be recognised and a flexible approach needs to be adopted to encourage them to invest in the sector”.

The other major party, which released its manifesto yesterday, promises to increase budgetary allocations to 6 percent of GDP (a long standing demand of activists), but makes no mention of the private sector at all.  And for the rest, the fact that nearly half the children in this country attend a school under private (including NGO) management is clearly not good enough reason to improve the environment in which they function.  Indeed, two of them – the Party-Not-On-The-The-Right, and it’s competitor, the newest entrant into electoral politics – actually talk about increasing supervision and control over private schools, as if things weren’t bad enough already!

In many ways, this is a reflection of the way in which education has been viewed within the establishment all these years.  In a reaction to the opening up of the economy post-1992 and the acceptance of international aid for funding the District Primary Education Programme (and similar projects in the States), the education establishment moved to the far left, arguing that it was the sole responsibility of government not only to regulate and supervise, but also to deliver education services to its citizens.  This position has hardened further in recent years, even as growth of the economy resulted in the creation of a middle class with increased aspirations for their children that caused them to move away from poorly performing government schools to private ones that were more accountable.  Even the judiciary has succumbed to the persuasion of this argument, holding in innumerable judgments that private schools have little or no entitlements at all.  The result has been increasingly stringent regulation and the imposition of unreasonable standards and rules, all leading to increased rent collection at various levels, but little actual improvement on the ground.

The trouble is that the so-called private sector in education is mostly disorganised and disunited, as is normal when agencies are in competition with each other and not colluding.  In such circumstances, they lack a strong enough voice that would enable their concerns to be heard.  But does this mean that parents who choose to send their children to these schools – and indeed, the children themselves, all 120 million of them – also have no rights and can be ignored?

The school education landscape today has been divided into two distinct camps – the ‘us’ and ‘them’ of the government and non-government sectors, which allows government policies or national bodies like NCERT to target only children enrolled in the former.  In turn, this is mirrored in the manner in which policy is decided, with decisions affecting private schools taken with almost no contribution from them.

As we look forward to the formation of a new government at the Centre, this is an opportune moment to consider the manner in which we would like to heal the school sector, and get both the government and private agencies to work together.  The country urgently needs a vision for education that enables rather than restricts, treats the private sector as an equal partner, and leads to the fulfilment of every child’s right to quality education.  Indeed, this would be a good time for the new government to articulate a national education policy, given that the last one was published in 1986 (and amended in 1992).

The manner in which the new government addresses the problems of school education, and in particular, the privately managed parts of the sector, will also be an instance of resolving that classic dilemma of modern democracy – how do you conduct majority rule while protecting the rights of the minority.  In education, as in other sectors, the question before the new government will be one of safeguarding those rights, while “avoiding the tyranny of the majority[1]”.  Sadly, I do not see that vision in any of the manifestos I’ve read so far.

Disclaimer – It is not my intention to express a preference or otherwise for any of the parties contesting the elections; this blog post does not endorse any candidate or party for the ongoing General Elections.

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[1] John Adams

The Value of Early Childhood Education

The other day, I attended a talk in Delhi by the Nobel Laureate James J Heckman, Professor of Economics at the University of Chicago (he of the Heckman Equation).  Organised jointly by the University of Chicago and the Centre for Civil Society, Heckman's discussion focused on the value of investing in early childhood education, a proposition long recognised but sorely neglected not just in our country, but in many parts of the world.

 

It is almost universally accepted in theory that the early years of a child determine her progress and well-being in later life.  Good, wholesome nutrition, appropriate medication and supplements, and preparatory education are all equally important for development of the child.  Equally significant, a lack of appropriate stimulation in early childhood can have a lasting impact on the individual's mental and physical development.

 

Heckman’s work has shown that investing in early childhood education can lead to a 7-10 percent rate of return for society per annum, in terms of greater productivity, reduced health costs, lower crime rates, etc.  However, in his view, merely establishing preschool education centres is not always the most appropriate solution; he believes that a substantial part of early stimulation should originate through a closer bond with the parents, who need to be helped to play their role more effectively.

 

In India, it has frequently been observed that children who have had some form of preparatory education before the age of six years are more likely to continue on to elementary and secondary education, and less likely to drop out before completion.  The importance and impact of early education has been acknowledged by thinkers and policy makers, and finds mention in the major policy discourse; here too, the link between the pre-school and the family has been discussed and emphasised.  Acharya Vinoba Bhave described it best, stating that for effective learning, “home should enter the school and school should change into home”.

 

The 12th Five Year Plan also articulates the importance of preschool education, saying that “...research from around the world highlights the importance of early childhood education, and suggests that high-quality early childhood education may have the highest long-term returns in terms of improved human development.  The Twelfth Plan will therefore place a high priority on universalising pre-school education and improving school preparedness – especially for historically and economically disadvantaged children”.

 

The primary government vehicle for early childhood education remains the Integrated Child Development Services (ICDS) programme, launched in 1975 to address the problems of malnutrition and disease among young children, and to ensure their holistic development through preschool education.  However as a departmental committee examining this issue in 2004 noted, the number of children enrolled in preschool centres through ICDS and allied programmes was not more than 20 percent of the total eligible children in this age group; the rest were either enrolled in private preschools, or not enrolled at all.  This position has not changed substantially in the ten years since.

 

One of the problems is that ICDS tends to focus more on the nutritional aspects of the programme, to the detriment of the education component.  The government’s Allocation of Business Rules place education policy in the Ministry of HRD, and early childhood education in the Ministry of Women and Child Development; as a result, the latter often tends to fall between two stools, with neither department paying much attention to it.

 

The original Directive Principle under Article 45 of the Constitution enjoined the State to “endeavour to provide free and compulsory education to all children below the age of fourteen years”, thus accepting the importance of early stimulation before the beginning of formal education in Grade 1.  However when the Constitution was amended in 2002 to make elementary education a Fundamental Right, it was restricted to the age group of 6-14 years only.  This was largely due to financial reasons, but also perhaps because the sponsoring Ministry (HRD) was not directly concerned with the subject!

 

Although ICDS has now been “universalised”, its focus remains on the non-educational aspects of the programme.  As with other government schemes, it is plagued by allegations of mismanagement, leakages, and downright corruption.  And the preschool component remains weak.  Superficial universalisation, of the “mile-wide and inch-deep” kind so beloved of our politicians, carries with it more risk of damage than not doing anything at all.

 

Today, preschool education is largely in the hands of private managements; in itself, this may not be a bad thing, but it does limit the availability of preschool services to only those who can afford to pay for them.  No permissions are needed to start a preschool; as long as you have the necessary space, even if it is within your own home, you can start a preschool for children below six years.  Naturally this has implications, including those of safety, security and the quality of care and education delivered to the child.

 

Given the research of Heckman, Robert Lynch, and others, it is clear that the social, economic and financial benefits of government investing in early childhood education are extraordinary.  One can only hope that the next government will give this area the attention it so desperately needs.