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Sunday, April 28, 2019

Colonialism, Race and Education Inequality

In the words of Engerman and Sokolof, colonialism is back – not in practice, thankfully – but in the minds of scholars as an important ‘deep determinant’ of contemporary development patterns. This post focuses on just one of the many long-term effects of colonialism: its transformation of the construct of race and the effect that has had on education inequality and institutional development.

A Brief History of Race in Africa


Colonialism did not ‘invent’ ethnicity. Many ethnic groups – such as the Ashanti in Ghana and the Baganda in Uganda – have roots that long pre-date European occupation. Back then, ethnicity was an extremely fluid construct: socio-cultural boundaries were marked by fuzziness and flexibility, and many Africans existed within a reality of multiple, overlapping and alternative collective identities. This was largely driven by the scourges of war, famine and disease, which would routinely destroy and dislocate entire communities.
By delineating Africans based on birth and defining their relationship with colonial state in outwardly ethnic terms, colonialism made the concept of race both inflexible and politicised. This was done for several reasons. First, inventing the notion of ‘tribes’ proved to be a costless and efficient way of locating, demarcating and counting the population of a colony for purposes of surveillance and control. Tribal divisions also made it easier for administrators to monitor their local ‘Big Men’: indigenous rulers who served as intermediaries between the colonial state and the wider populace. These relationships were defined by patrimonial logic: colonial elites would keep local Big Men happy through the dispensing of resources who would in turn pacify ethnic constituents by similar means.

The notion of tribalism was also supported by genuine ‘scientific’ beliefs at the time that Africans were naturally tribal and that some tribes were inherently superior to others. For instance, in Rwanda, Belgian occupiers viewed the Tutsi as ‘less African’ than the Hutu and privileged their status accordingly.

Figure 1: The ‘Scientific’ Demarcation of Race in Rwanda

Source: The New Times

The net results of this was a power structure that categorised and prioritised Africans in avowedly ethnic terms. Education was a popular vehicle to deploy this favouritism: for example, in Burundi and Rwanda, Western-style education was reserved almost exclusively for the Tutsi; in Uganda the Baganda were educated at the expense of the Bonyoro, while in Nigeria Christian missionaries set up schools in the Igbo South whilst leaving the Hausa North virtually untouched (though this was for religious as well as ethnic reasons). Largely by design, colonial administrators fomented a new indigenous ‘super-class’ which outwardly reflected the racial biases manifest in colonial rule.

The Stickiness of Colonial Institutions


At independence, inaugural elites – themselves largely beneficiaries of these power structures – found it expedient to maintain rather than dismantle them. By emphasising ethnic divides, they could consolidate support within their ethnic ‘in-group’ while disempowering the rest. Ethnicity proved such a useful ‘mobilising’ tool because it could coexist with other types of consciousness, papering over traditional cleavages like age, religion and class.

As before, education proved an effective means to exhibit ethnic favouritism. Not only were investments in education ‘visible’ to the populace, they also safeguarded the dominance of a group between generations: by deciding who to educate today, elites could effectively choose who would rule tomorrow.

In many countries, the endurance of this logic led to a remarkable stickiness of racial hierarchies. Educational attainment amongst the Brahmin in India, the Igbo/Yoruba in Nigeria and the Baganda in Uganda continues to outstrip those of their ethnic neighbours. In each case, contemporary dominance can largely be traced to the whims of colonial favouritism.

Even in countries where ethnic groups exhibit greater mobility, education policy remains shaped by ethnic considerations. As Franck and Rainer (2009) show, the education enrolment of a particular ethnic group increases when they have 'their man’ in power.

This discussion points to an important consequence of colonialism: by creating communities who were greatly advantaged in terms of human capital and legal rights, colonial administrators left behind societies that were grossly unequal at the outset. This incipient inequality greatly inhibited the development of inclusive political institutions, as the narrow group of elites who inherited power were heavily incentivised to maintain institutions that worked to their advantage (Engerman and Sokolof, 2005).

Final Words


A final word on colonialism. Imagine a spectrum on which theories of colonialism can be placed. At each end are two ridiculously polemical positions: on the left sits the view that colonialism has made no difference to contemporary African development; on the right sits the view that colonialism explains all idiosyncrasies of modern African states.


Clearly, any position too close to the left of this spectrum is untenable – this post has shown just one (of many) long-term consequences of colonialism on economic and institutional outcomes in Africa. However, we should also be wary of arguments that sit too close to the right. Deferring to colonialism as the ultimate cause of everything does a poor job in explaining contemporary differences between Kenya and Tanzania: two countries with ostensibly similar colonial experiences and initial conditions, yet with vastly divergent postcolonial economic, political and social histories. It also robs Africans of agency. Colonialism did not set in motion an unerring chain of events irresponsive to the will of incumbent elites – such a view uniquely misconstrues African leaders as passive objects of manipulation rather than active shapers of history.

Why am I saying this? It is not to exonerate colonialism; rather, it is to undermine the fatalistic idea that colonialism has doomed Africa to underdevelopment. This is not just alarmingly defeatist – it is also patently untrue, as demonstrated by development successes in Botswana, Mauritius and more recently in Ethiopia and Rwanda. Making sense of these necessitates a balanced perspective: we must remain sensitive to the long shadows cast by history while at the same time avoiding overly-deterministic modes of thinking which under-value prospects of future development.

Word count: 984 words

References

  • Engerman and Sokolof (2005), ‘Colonialism, Inequality and Long-Run Paths of Development’
  • Franck and Rainer (2009), ‘Does the Leader’s Ethnicity Matter? Ethnic Favouritism, Education and Health in Sub-Saharan Africa’

Monday, April 22, 2019

Making Schools Safe

Open any op-ed, journal article or Econ Twitter thread about education delivery in developing countries and there is a very good chance it will centre on one of two issues: access (how to get kids in school?) or quality (how to make sure kids are learning in school?). Of course, there is good reason for this – if kids aren’t in school (or if they aren’t being taught if they are) then it is unlikely they will be learning key competencies such as reading, writing and numeracy – with devastating consequences for economic growth and individual flourishing. However, in making these issues cardinal, we run the risk of blind-sighting ourselves to issues that are at once simpler yet more fundamental.

Accidents Waiting to Happen


Consider the issue of school safety. If the government mandates a policy of compulsory schooling – which compels children to meet at the same place each day, five days a week – then we had better make damn sure that these places are safe for children to congregate. Safety is multi-faceted. Perhaps the most obvious component is the physical safety afforded by school infrastructure – are schoolchildren at risk of falling debris, open sewage or fire?

It is easy to take these questions for granted – I certainly did before I stepped foot in a school in Zanzibar. But consider these photos I took last week when visiting a pre-primary school – a school designed for children of four and five years of age. These children – barely out of nappies – play largely unsupervised in areas riddled with decaying ceilings, open gutters and precipitous drops unguarded by railing. The fact that no learning is taking place in this school seems secondary to the fact that there is an accident seemingly waiting to happen every single day.

Figure 1: A Pre-Primary School in Zanzibar


Of course, accidents do happen, and the results can be devastating. In 2004, a primary school in the Indian state of Tamil Nadu caught fire due to an illegal thatched roof. 91 primary schoolchildren died that day – a tragedy of a scale that's difficult to comprehend. It is hard to think of a commensurate failure in education delivery.

The Threat Posed by Teachers


Unsafe buildings are not the only threat posed to children: a more frequent and intentional threat is posed by aggressive, lecherous and untrained members of staff. A 2011 study by UNICEF in Zanzibar revealed that over 70% of students reported having experienced some form of physical or humiliating punishment at the hands of educators – a fact which has devastating impacts on children’s incentives to attend school. Despite large decreases in recent years, approximately 69 countries still allow corporal punishment in schools, including parts of the United States, some Australian states and large swathes of Africa and Asia (Gershoff, 2017).

More shockingly, sexual abuse perpetrated by teachers remains ubiquitous, particularly in countries towards the bottom of the income distribution. In Liberia, 1 in 4 primary school age children admitted to having had sex with a teacher, and 1 in 3 admitted to having sex with a member of staff (Steiner et al., 2018). These grim statistics are reflected in Kerala, India, with 21% of schoolchildren reporting having been sexually abused in a school environment over the past year, with surprisingly far more boys reporting abuse (29.5%) than girls (6.2%) (Kumar et al., 2017).

Issues like these strike at our emotions in a way unlike issues related to enrolment or pedagogy. Despite this, they comprise a much smaller part of the overall conversation. If you wanted to find out what works in raising attendance or test scores in schools, there are literally hundreds of studies that have tested all manner of interventions in all manner of contexts. However, if you wanted to assess the prevalence of sexual violence or unsafe infrastructure in schools – and what can be done to improve it – you would struggle to find anything like the body of evidence behind access and quality. As Justin Sandefur notes, there is a strange paradox at play here: what we choose to focus our research on seems disproportionate to what we care about as parents, siblings and people. I'm not a parent - but if I were I imagine I'd care more about whether my child was vulnerable to sexual assault than I would about whether my child learnt anything today in school. 

In a scintillating open letter to a new Minister for Education, Paul Skidmore recommends immediately conducting an independent, internationally-recognised literacy and numeracy assessment to see whether children are learning anything of value in school. This is undoubtedly a good idea – but does not dig deep enough. As well as asking whether children are learning anything in schools, a more fundamental question would be: are schools safe places for children? Such a question would necessitate a school and teacher audit to go alongside any measure of basic competency.

Likewise, academic researchers should recalibrate their focus and make a more concerted effort to identify ways in which unsafe practices in schools can be reduced or eliminated. Recent work by the Behavioural Insights Team which assesses different strategies for changing teachers’ attitudes towards corporal punishment in the Nyarugusu Refugee Camp in Tanzania makes for a promising start (Behavioural Insights Team, 2017).

The benefits of this would be manifold. Crucially, making schools safer will have positive knock-on effects on the two topics currently in the limelight: access and quality. It doesn't take a PhD in Economics to figure out why in environments where they can be hurt and abused, children may be less engaged in class and less willing to show up altogether. More fundamentally though, eliminating unsafe practices can ensure that child's rights are better protected - a benefit which is difficult to overstate.

Word count: 967 words

References

  • Behavioural Insights Team (2017), ‘Changing Teachers’ Attitudes Towards Corporal Punishment’
  • Gershoff (2017), ‘School Corporal Punishment in Global Perspective: Prevalence, Outcomes, and Efforts at Intervention’
  • Kumar et al. (2017), ‘Prevalence of Child Abuse in School Environment in Kerala, India: An ICAST-CI Based Survey’
  • Steiner et al. (2018), ‘Sexual Violence of Liberian School Age Students: An Investigation of Perpetration, Gender, and Forms of Abuse’