The highs and the lows - wingclipping of HEC

The recent government decision, as carried by the national media the other day, to shelve a plan by the Higher Education Commission to set up four more engineering universities in the country has earned criticism from certain quarters. Being seen together with reports of HEC about to have its wings clipped, there are people who see some kind of conspiracy being hatched somewhere. The perception may not be entirely true. In fact, it is misplaced on several counts.

The plan that is said to have been shelved was worth Rs160 billion and was to be completed in phases over a decade in collaboration with Germany, Austria, Italy and China. Under the project, the faculty for the universities was to be recruited from these four countries which had set up a sort of consortium for the purpose. The degrees issued by the proposed institutions were to carry the stamp of the foreign universities, enabling their graduates to compete in the international job market.

With curriculum and examination system also falling under the purview of foreign consultants and the four collaborating partners setting up technology parks to promote research, it, indeed, sounded good. The general argument is that Pakistani students would have been able to achieve foreign qualification at far more affordable tuition fee than they would otherwise spend on going abroad.

The figures being quoted on the quantum of foreign exchange individuals and families have to dish out every year on foreign education are pretty staggering, running up to Rs80 billion. But the amount naturally was not being extricated from the national kitty; it includes money earned by students while doing jobs to sustain their budgets. The amount of Rs160 billion — the cost of the shelved project — however was to be spent from the exchequer and it is worth arguing that it could have been much better utilised by improving the already existing universities on the ground.

The technology parks, though impressive by their very nomenclature, could, and should, have been localised by improving the equation between the academia and the industry which for long has been the missing link within the realm of professional education. The project did have its plus points, but when tested against the touchstone of reality, it was more flamboyant than the country could afford.

The pseudo-royal manner in which the HEC had been squandering money has already started to bear results that had been feared all the way through. The University of Karachi, for instance, has been facing a financial crunch for the past few months to the extent where it is struggling to pay the salaries of its 3,000-strong work force, including faculty and administrative staff.

Cut in budgets and grants to institutions of higher learning across the land means the KU is not alone in its predicament. In cases where a reduction has not been announced in as many words — as with, say, the NED University of Engineering and Technology — inordinate delay in the release of budgetary allocations is being practised which, for all practical purposes, is an unsaid cut because we are already in the second half of the fiscal year and, given the economic uncertainty, there is no chance of a sudden release of all outstanding dues. Said or unsaid, the lavish HEC spending of the past is making life difficult for universities today.

Established in 2002 through a presidential ordinance, the HEC came up with ideas that were perhaps fantastic on paper, but did little to have a direct impact on the learning process in the country. For instance, sending people to countries like Poland and Czechoslovakia to do their doctorate was hardly the stuff of a visionary. This was just one of the many steps that the HEC took in the name of promoting higher education. There were funds at its disposal and they were thrown away with gusto. How fancy ideas consumed precious funds could be well illustrated with happenings in the realm of medicine.

The mushroom growth of institutions imparting medical education in the country — 68 thus far, with 10 awaiting the relevant NOC — tell its own tale and the activities of the private sector in this regard is yet another sorry tale within the spectrum of medical education, but it is pertinent to focus for the time being on medical institutions in the public sector for which the authorities and the HEC are directly responsible.

It is a rather long-winding yarn of political expediency and vested interests. To have such a high number of medical universities is beyond comprehension, especially in a country where not a single medical college in the public sector happens to be a fulltime teaching institute. Even when they were colleges, they were basically producing glorified MBBS quacks in enormous numbers because of the lack of teaching focus and the inexplicable reluctance to update the course content. By the looks of it, instead of upgrading the syllabus, successive governments have found it much easier to upgrade colleges to the university level.

Dr Shershah Syed, a former head of Pakistan Medical Association and a leading figure in the effort to streamline the whole gamut of graduate and post-graduate education, is so upset that he finds the medical education system in the country to be standing “on the brink of a virtual collapse”.

In the early days of the Musharraf regime, he recalls, a retired lieutenant-general was given the task of running the provincial health ministry in Sindh. He had been a graduate of Liaquat Medical College at Jamshoro near Hyderabad, and his assignment provided, among other things, an opportunity to revive old friendships. “On their part, some senior professors at the LMC found a good opportunity, as they often do in such cases, to have their friend do a few things for them,” he says.

They floated the idea of establishing the country’s first medical university. Apart from their own personal interest, the project also had political ambitions as it envisaged taking all medical colleges in the province, including, of course, those in Karachi, under its wings. To make it palatable to all concerned, it was reasoned that the proposed university would organise medical education along scientific lines in the province and, in doing so, it would be able to set an example for the other provinces to follow.

Swayed by the idea of being a pioneer in the country, he moved with the project in such haste that no feasibility report was in place when they went public with the project. The Liaquat University of Health and Medical Sciences came into existence by an executive order and the HEC provided the millions that were needed. The series of events that followed the establishment of LUHMS is as interesting as it is unfortunate, stresses Dr Shershah.

Immediately after the announcement by the Sindh government, the health minister of Punjab decided to have a medical university in his province. If Sindh could have a medical university, why not Punjab? The argument was logical enough. Thus came into existence the Punjab University of Health Sciences.

Back in Sindh, the narrative is picked by Dr Habibur Rahman Soomro, the sitting PMA boss, who recalls that with the appointment of a new provincial governor, the idea of a medical university in Karachi was floated by the professors of Dow Medical College. Another executive order came around without any proper feasibility report that set up the Dow University of Health Sciences (DUHS) and the HEC was, again, there to fund the project.

Now with Sindh having two medical universities, it was ground enough to prepare for a similar status in Punjab to restore parity. The King Edward Medical College took the lead and was soon converted into a university. The provincial government made the announcement and the HEC rushed ahead with funds, says Dr Soomro who regrets the fact that nobody bothered to stop for a while and see whether or not a medical university was required at all.

With Sindh and Punjab having a war of numbers, it was only a matter of time before the North West Frontier Province and Balochistan started feeling neglected. As the two smaller provinces, they had always been denied their rights, but they were not going to miss out on this score. Khyber Medical College in Peshawar and Bolan Medical College in Quetta soon had themselves alleviated to the status of medical universities.

With so many universities across the land, one hoped everybody would have been feeling satisfied, but that is not the case. There has been no assessment done on what effective change, if at all, has been brought about by the hundreds of millions that have been spent on these fancy universities.

Against such a backdrop, it is only logical that the government is said to be actively considering an end to the autonomous status of the HEC and its placement under the Ministry of Education. However, there are reasons to believe that, at best, it might be nothing more than making HEC the scapegoat because the sitting government itself is continuing to move on the ill-advised path.

The latest example is the elevation of the Chandka Medical College, which has always struggled to build even a baseline reputation, to the status of Shaheed Benazir Bhutto Medical University. According to published reports, a plan costing Rs5 billion has been sent to the federal government to take care of the construction of the new campus alone.

Besides, there are also plans to upgrade the People’s Medical College in Nawabshah to People’s International University for Women at a cost of Rs4 billion. Larkana and Nawabshah being important political locations in the present setup, there is every likelihood that the proponents of the two plans will have their dreams come true.

The same is the case with southern Punjab to which belongs the incumbent prime minister. University status for Nishtar Medical College and the setting up of an independent medical college for women in Multan are already in the air and, by the looks of it, an executive order to that effect will soon pop up on the surface.

Higher education, like so many other things in the country, is under a pretty dark cloud at present. One can but hope that the decision to reconsider the plan for engineering universities will provide the silver lining and someone somewhere in the corridors of power will find the time and the inclination to revisit the logic of medical universities as well. For once, there is no harm in hoping against hope.

By Humair Ishtiaq
Source : http://www.dawn.com/weekly/education/education1.htm