Revisiting Humanism in Education:

Insights from Tagore – III

by Panduka Karunanayake

Professor in the Department of Clinical Medicineand former Director, Staff Development Centre,

University of Colombo

The 34th J.E. Jayasuriya Memorial Lecture

14 February 2025

SLFI Auditorium, Colombo

(Continued from18 Feb.)

Tagore had an important answer to the question of whether the economic or the political should enjoy the primacy of place, in designing educational policy. He said: “Economic life covers the whole base of society, because its necessities are simplest and the most universal. Educational institutions, in order to obtain the fullness of truth, must have close association with this economic life.”

Sometimes I have difficulty understanding why Tagore, in spite of his appreciation of science and disdain for superstition, still lavishly exalted his traditional dieties and the scriptures. I think he did so because he saw a remarkable practical utility in them for the organisation of society and because they carried innumerable lessons for human conduct – for which science and technology, or even modern administration, had not yet furnished any suitable alternative.

Besides, it is clear that he admired religion’s potential to bring peoples together. In The Religion of Man, he wrote: “On the surface of our being we have the ever-changing phases of the individual self, but in the depth there dwells the Eternal Spirit of human unity beyond our direct knowledge.” But of course, religion seldom brought humanity together. And whenever it played the divisive role, he did not blindly follow its precepts.

The stickiest issue in India for the modern philosopher is probably its caste system, and Tagore had no qualms about repudiating it:

“…differentiation and separation of vocations and trades, professions and callings on which the caste system originally rested has become totally extinct and it is altogether impossible to maintain it any longer. Yet all the taboos, external restrictions and customs associated with the varna system are still in place, static and intact. It seems we must put up with the cage with all its iron bars and fetters though the bird for which it was made is dead and gone. We provide bird feed every day but no bird feeds on it. In this way, due to the cleavage between our social life and social customs, we are not only being inhibited and obstructed by unnecessary, outmoded arrangements, we cannot live up to our professed social ideals, either.”

Prof. Carlo Fonseka / Dr. Abrahm T. Kovoor

I wish that for our country, we could replace the phrase ‘caste system’ with our own ‘outmoded arrangements’ – such as astrology, superstitious rituals and harmful so-called healing practices – and carefully re-read that quote. Sadly, our populace is filled with superstition, myth and pseudoscience – as a cursory glance at the supplements of any weekend Sinhala newspaper would show. Here, the high literacy rate actually works against the nation! Our public intellectuals must also take the blame, because they have failed to sustain the good work that had been done in the 1970s by intellectuals like Dr E.W. Adikaram, Abraham Kovoor and Professor Carlo Fonseka.

Another interesting point in his ideas is his desire to see education as a tool for everyone, not just the educated few. Reminding us on ancient Indian education and learning, he said:

“There was a regular traffic between specialised knowledge and ordinary knowledge. Scholars, pundits or learned society did not have an antithetical relationship with the less learned segments of society…There was hardly a place in the country where the Ramayana, the Mahabharata, the Puranic myths and religious discourse did not spread in a variety of ways. Even the theoretical philosophical issues which were rigorously, relentlessly discussed and debated in philosophy and metaphysics always filtered down to the mind of the people…In those days learning was the asset of the entire society and not the acquisition of the learned few.”

In our own country, in contrast, I wonder whether expanded access to education has had a similar effect. In spite of decades of education in swabhasha and wide access to education, knowledge is a tool of separation, seclusion and self-aggrandisement for the few who win the lottery. Is this the fault of the education or the educated? Perhaps both. The educated use their learning as a weapon rather than as a tool to serve, a manifestation of the fierce competitiveness and the fixed mindset that pervades the successful products of our education. At the same time, as Tagore pointed out, it is the fault of education too:

“The rains of our education are falling a long distance away from where the roots of our whole life lie…Our ordinary daily life has no use for the education we acquire…It is unjust to blame this on students. Their world of books and the world in which they live everyday are poles apart…That is why it is seen that the same person who has formidable erudition in European philosophy, science and ethics tenaciously clings to the age old superstitions…We are no more amazed when we see that on the one hand he is separately enjoying literature full of varied sentiments while on the other he is busy only with making money…”

These are a few fundamentals that can be gleaned from Tagore’s second phase. They aren’t many, and perhaps they aren’t as earth-shattering as one might expect. But I feel that they are exactly what we are lacking today and prevent education from playing a nation-building role. If we can get these right, we actually need to get very little else right.

Phase 3: ‘Freedom from bondage’

Tagore’s role and position as an unrepentant internationalist at the time when India was demanding swaraj is well known. He was opposed to nationalism, and in fact correctly identified colonialism itself as a manifestation of the nationalism of the British – so he asked, if one were anti-colonialist, how could one be nationalist also?

But his internationalism was not a rootless existence floating aimlessly in the air. He was clear that one must be rooted in one’s own soil, strongly and firmly – it is from here that one must reach out to the wealth of the world. In another beautiful simile, he urged us not to fear the wind, and to open the windows of our house to let that wind in. He would assure us that we would be able to retain the good that the wind blew in and get rid of the bad. He also said that as long as our house had a firm foundation, the wind will not blow it away. So for him, the first step of being an internationalist is studying one’s own soil and placing a firm foundation for one’s existence. He admired and studied tradition without being a traditionalist.

With regard to Indian universities of his day, he lamented the fact that these were European grafts and nothing like India’s ancient intellectual heritage, such as Nalanda, Wikramshila or Takshasila. He lamented the type of intellectual this would produce. He wrote in 1932:

“We receive European learning as something static and immutable and consider it the height of modernity to cull and recite sentences from it. For this reason we lack the courage to reconsider it or think about it from a new angle. Our universities have nothing to do with and are cut off from the acute questions, dire necessities and extreme hardship facing the people of the country…Like parasites our mind, attached to text books, has lost its ability to find its food and invent by itself.”

These words seem no less relevant to our own universities, 90 years after they were written.

Tagore’s belief in internationalism and its effect on his philosophy of education is captured by his description of Visva-Bharati, the higher education institute he set up in 1921 using the Nobel Prize money: “Visva-Bharati represents India where she has her wealth of mind which is for all. Visva-Bharati acknowledges India’s obligation to offer to others the hospitality of her best culture and India’s right to accept from others their best.”

Conclusion

Prof. J. E. Jayasuriya / Dr. E. W. Adhikaram

Ladies and Gentlemen: I am afraid time would not permit me to cover the whole breadth of Rabindranath Tagore’s complete educational philosophy, and I wouldn’t even pretend to cover it in depth. For example, I didn’t touch on other important aspects that Tagore spoke of, such as school administration, advice for teachers, maintaining discipline without corporeal punishment, carrying out research and promoting creativity, women and education and so on. Forgive me for only scratching the surface. But the topic of Tagore’s educational philosophy is so vast that nothing wider would be possible in a short time.

You will also note that my talk was not filled with anecdotes of incidents and peculiarities at Santiniketan – like how classes were conducted under trees or how the gurudev once conducted a class in the rain for cattle when the students didn’t want to come out and get wet. These are not the timeless substance of the tale; they are only its time-sensitive ornaments.

If, on the other hand, I have been able to whet your appetite for his educational philosophy, and also convinced you that he had patiently worked on and presciently invented an antidote to today’s problems of education, I would be content for now. Balance was his antidote. My goal this evening was to place the seeds of his ideas in your minds, and hope that they will grow, be nourished and be pruned and manicured into a contextually appropriate shape in the months or years to come.

Selected bibliography

Dasgupta, U. (2013). Rabindranath Tagore: A Biography. Oxford University Press. (Translated by hiisß ckl l=udr- mßj¾;l (2024).rúkaøkd;a ;df.da¾-udkj ksoyi iy úúO;ajh kqf.af.dv iriú m%ldYlfhdaව)

Dore, R. (1976). The Diploma Disease: Education, Qualification and Development. London: George Allen & Unwin (republished in 1977 by Institute of Education, University of London).

Gunasekara, P. (2013). moaud .=Kfialr – kkaofiak .%duSh wOHdmk l%uh^1932-1939) lkakka.r;=udf.a wu;l l< fkdyels w;ayod ne,Sula fld<U iQßh m%ldYlfhda: කන්නunasekara, S.P. (2012). iuka mqIamd .=Kfialrම(2012). rúkaøkd;a ;df.da¾ fld<U tia f.dvf.aසහiyifydaorfhda(Basedon Rabindranath Tagore: The Myriad Minded Man (1995) by Krishna Dutta and Andrew Robinson, and other works.)

Illich, I. (1970). Deschooling Society. USA: Harper & Row (republished in 1973 by Penguin Education, Harmondsworth, England).

Iyengar, K.R.S. (1987). Rabindranath Tagore: A Critical Introduction. London: Oriental University Press.

Kripalani, K. (1961). Tagore: A Life. New Delhi: National Book Trust, India (author publication, republished in 1971 by National Book Trust, India).

Maithra, S., translator (2014). Education as Freedom: Tagore’s Paradigm. New Delhi: Niyogi Books.

Navaratnam, R. (1958). New Frontiers in East-West Philosophies of Education. Calcutta: Orient Longmans.

Neogy, A.K. (2010). Santiniketan and Sriniketan: The Twin Dreams of Rabindranath Tagore. New Delhi: National Book Trust, India.

Samuel Ravi, S. (2024). Philosophical and Sociological Bases of Education (2nd edn). Delhi: PHI Learning. (Chapter 13: ‘Rabindranath Tagore’, pp. 163-179.)

Sarathchandra, E.R. de S. (1942). ‘Through Santiniketan eyes’. Kesari People’s Weekly (Jaffna) serialised from 2(9) to 2(17) and compiled by Goonetileke, H.A.I., also available translated to Sinhala ^iqpß; .ï,;a-mßj¾;l ප(2001). ශYdka;s ksfla;kfha weiska fld<U tia f.dvf.a iy ifydaorfhda).

Venn, G. (1965). Man, education and work. In, Cosin, B.R., editor: Education: Structure and Society. Harmondsworth: Penguin Books. (Chapter 6, pp. 97-107.)

Venn, G. (1971). Preparation for further preparation (editorial). Educational Leadership 1: 339-341.