Detaching Education from Materialism
Today’s tragedy of the commons is that, knowledge has reduced to a mere commodity—bought and sold rather than shared and nurtured. Rooted in Utilitarianism, western society’s focus on Individualism and Meritocracy fuelled rapid ‘material progress’ and the ‘pursuit of wealth and power’ (peddled by the Industrial Revolution in the backdrop).1 This, in turn, set the stage for imperialism and colonialism, forcing the colonies to import the highly destructive ideology of ‘Materialism’. As Indumati Ji points out, nowadays, anything without a price tag is often seen as worthless. Eight of the world’s ten richest countries and most top universities are rooted in these western values, reflecting how Individualism and Meritocracy have indeed propelled western civilization’s success. Unfortunately, these very strengths also carry the potential for its own downfall in the longer run.1
Contrastingly, Bharat’s heart beats with Dharma — the eternal principle that sustains the natural order. It believes in ‘sustaining’, not ‘devouring’. So right there, our schools of thought sharply diverge. No wonder, the imported ideology neither took root nor was fully rejected—merely left to drift in the land of spirituality. This is not to say that Bharat is a land of austerity devoid of zeal for wealth—quite the opposite. We mastered the art of economics and, many thousands of years ago, produced world-renowned treatises like the Arthashastra. Yet, in Bharat education is beyond, transcending such narrow confines; it is far more holistic. Reducing it to such limits only diminishes its true essence.
But as we know, none of this was of concern to the colonisers. And thus, their agenda unfolded—the other side of the coin in the ‘governmentalisation’ of education in Bharat. An education system that churned material output, which could then be channelled through trains and ships to the metropole. Thus, ‘material output’ became the very ‘motive’ and the ‘means’ of education.
The Wood’s Despatch shrewdly introduced the ‘Grant-in-aid’ system to expand the English model of education in Bharat, recognizing the challenge of reaching out to a vast population accross the country. Under this system, government grants were provided to schools and colleges that met the following conditions: a) Offered secular education. b) Were efficiently managed. c) Allowed periodic government inspection and complied with government regulations. d) Collected fees from students. Upon inspection and approval, the grants offered could be used by the selected institutions to improve teacher salaries, construct buildings, provide student scholarships, promote literacy etc.
Excerpt from Wood’s despatch of 1854, highlighting the Charging of fees
Over time, it became standardised for all schools to collect a fixed monthly/yearly fee from their enrolled students. The operation of schools was to be funded through these student fees, while teachers would receive fixed salaries paid by the government. A formal fee model, became the very mandate and ‘means’ of education.
Coming to the ‘motive’: the system was tailored to output a workforce that could contribute to the colonial economical interests— their ‘loot’, to put it concisely. It churned out a vast number of clerks to manage administrative tasks in revenue collection, legal systems, and railways. Higher technical education in unversities were limited to fields and institutions focused on engineering, forestry, and surveying—directly tied to colonial extraction of resources(like timber, minerals, and agricultural produce). Enticing job placements meant keeping land records, managing trade data, and assisting in the legal enforcement of colonial laws, that in actual benefited colonial exploitation. It prioritized administrative utility and ‘economic output’.
In that light, phrases like ‘free education for the underprivileged‘, ‘proper infrastructure in government schools‘, ‘scholarship schemes’, and ‘secured placements for marginalised communities’ are frequently invoked by activists championing these causes, to this day. But why are they still not breaking away from the ‘monetisation of education’ aspect?
When Society invested in Schools…
Education in Ancient Bharat was ‘free for all’. Students worshipped knowledge, teachers served it — and hence it was held sacrosanct. Almost that, it was deemed sinful to trade knowledge for money. Neither the giver nor the receiver had to worry about money, allowing both to fully commit to the cause. It was the royals and the society who fully sustained and patronised the system. A cause and responsibility embraced by all.
There also existed the tradition of Guru Dakshina, which should not be mistaken for a formal tuition fee or a financial transaction. It was not a calculated and worked out cost, rather a humble and gracious offering. Traditionally, Guru Dakshina is an honorarium given to a guru by the student and his family. It goes beyond material gifts, serving as a way for students to express respect and gratitude in various forms. One key meaning of it is that it helps the student to truly internalise and embody the knowledge shared by the teacher. Thus, dakshina is not just repayment but a means to fully embrace and live the wisdom imparted by the guru. The dakshina took various forms as well—sometimes in the form of money, sometimes gifts, and sometimes even as ‘seva’, involving physical household chores to aid the guru and his family. As Indumati Ji eloquently describes the Bharat of the past, it almost seems too idyllic to be true. Here are a few lines from the book Revisiting the Educational Heritage of India that attest to this fact(Sahana Singh, 2022):
“Often, families living around the universities would generously host meals at their residences for the students. The Jatakas mention an instance of 500 students being entertained by a family in Takshashila. In fact, it was regarded as extremely unethical for any household to refuse food to a student who came during mid-day asking for ‘bhiksha’. In Buddhist countries such as Thailand and Myanmar, even today one can see monks going from house to house in order to collect food, which is then all pooled together and shared by the monastery.
The Nalanda University was described by Xuanzang as having been endowed with buildings and lands by ruling kings of the time. He also mentions that the revenues of 100 villages were allocated for meeting the expenses of the university. The students and teachers received clothes, food, bedding and medicine free of cost. From the villages, a daily supply of huge quantities of rice, butter and milk contributed by 200 householders have been recorded in Xuanzang’s time.”
Similarly, a research published by Department of Ancient History, School of Historical Studies, Madurai Kamaraj University quotes findings from the archaeological reports of a chola inscription3:
“An undated Chola inscription from Trinallar temple at Karaikal commune reveals that one Veli of land, exempted from tax was endowed with a matha for its maintenance and feeding the Saiva ascetics. The mathā was built by Vagalur Nadudaya Bhatta. King Rajendra Chola I appointed Thiruvaranga Devan alias Tirukkanal Nambi, as the head of the mathā in succession to Sivapadasekharappichchias, is revealed. The heads of the mathās controlled the affairs of the mathās as the administrative heads and also the custodians of the properties of the temples. By virtue of their position in the mathās they wielded high influence over their own disciples and their committees. The king also gave high respect for the heads of the mathāsand permitted the privilege of attending festivals along with king. The mathās imparted education, freely, irrespective of their place and their language. The medium of instruction was generally Sanskrit. But in some it was Tamil. The ascetic owned no property but their organisation and monasteries (matha) often owned vast estates left their maintenance. They encouraged the education and the learning of arts. The mathās functioned with the active assistance given by the ruling king, merchants and wealthy individuals with their endowment of landed properties, grains and financial assistance. The following inscriptions confirm the contribution donation and endowment of land towards the promotion of education.”
Clearly, in pre-colonial times, people very actively engaged in daan(charity) as a way to contribute to the cause of learning—almost as a marker of social status, competing with one another in generosity. Also as we see from above, the rulers and royals didn’t shy away either, from loudly rewarding educationists and their institutions, as it was believed that the donor king would acquire benefit for his rule and also spiritual merit. What I observe here is a free-flowing redistribution of financial resources, effectively making education more accessible to all—tailoring support to both the privileged and the underprivileged, without deepening social divides. Cut to the colonial times, when selfishly ammasing riches became the new staus quo— measured by English proficiency, government job prospects, and lucrative salaries— which in actual created more social divides.
But wait, we are still only scraping the surface here, without really delving deeper. Muneet Dhiman Ji offers insight into the profound underlying meaning of daan and bhiksha4:
“In Bharatiya samskruti any activity of Shuddha Sattva (beyond Gunas) and Sattva Guna for example education, food, yagya, justice, health etc were never sold. Earning for making profit, by nature is rajasic and if we want to make profit through education or health, then the act is not in Sattva Guna but would degrade to Rajas or Tamas. The very nature of activity of Sattva Guna is that it is done in the mood of seva/tapasya towards samaj, towards guru, towards God etc. If this mood is diluted to seek monetary or any other profit, then the activity doesn’t anymore remain in Sattva but becomes an activity of Rajas or Tamas. Hence in Bharatiya samskruti, people involved in the above listed activities would never charge money from students, patients, atithi or the hungry. The samaj would sustain the activities of education, nyaya and health through daan. Giving daan on festivals or auspicious occasions therefore was considered a very pious activity.
We see many people begging around us on traffic signals, roadsides and in front of temples and parks. When one begs there is a divide between the one who is giving and one who is receiving. The divide between the haves and the have nots. One is higher and the other is lower. This is because we see both from the context of money and matter. However, soliciting daan is an act in the higher mode, beyond matter. It is a spiritual activity. Hence, when we solicit daan, the one asking for it takes a superior position. While the person giving the daan feels grateful for the opportunity provided. Both the giver and the receiver are to be respected. “
How beautiful! It’s no surprise that a child growing up in such an environment develops a deep sensitivity towards society, the environment, and the nation. This meaningful arrangement quietly plants the seeds of compassion and a genuine desire to give back to the world that raised him. The child naturally becomes a true student of the society and a servant of the nation. This stands in stark contrast to the present reality, where students are increasingly influenced by the colonial values implanted—viewing society as a ‘market’, the environment as a ‘resource’, and the nation merely as a provider of ‘rights and amenities’.
How, then, is this colonial education system— disguised as ‘modern’—considered advanced? If ‘modern’ implies progressive, why are we witnessing regression? Whenever Indigenous education is discussed, the focus often shifts to adapting it to ‘modern times’, but it seems that the very concept of ‘modernity'(quietly veiling Eurocentrism) is the root of the problem. Modernity is commonly framed as a linear progression from tradition to modernity, often charted through European history: Renaissance → Enlightenment → Industrial Revolution → Liberal Democracies. This narrative implicitly positions Europe as the origin and model of progress. For example, when we say a country is ‘developing’ or ‘modernising’, it’s often based on how closely it resembles Western societies.
So in conclusion, we must either accept that we are still colonised or recognize that ‘adapting to modern times’ was never truly our problem to begin with. It is high time we see things our way(Bharatiya Drishti). Let us wholeheartedly embark on this rocky but promising road to ‘decolonisation’ through these three primal steps outlined by Indumati Ji. The education system forms the very foundation of all societal structures—just as water absorbed by the roots sustains the entire tree, reaching even its highest branches. In the same way, education is the root and source of every social system, ranging from family, economy, governance to justice. Therefore by strengthening the pivotal roots of Education, all other societal institutions would naturally grow stronger. It is time to fully ‘Re-root’ our Bharatiya education system—not in fragments, but in its entirety. True freedom demands that we liberate ourselves completely, not settle for a half-measured independence!
– Akshaya Srinivasan
References:
- GK, C. K., & KB, R. (2022). Indigenization in Education: Key to self Sufficiency and strategic Capability.
- Singh, S. (2022). Revisiting the Educational Heritage of India, 1-308.
- Girija, G. EDUCATION CENTERS UNDER THE LATER CHOLAS.
- Muneet Dhiman. (2023). https://vidyakshetra.org/daan-dakshina-bheeksha-bheekh/ [ARTICLE]
- Kāṭadare, I. (1995). पश्चिमीकरण से भारतीय शिक्षा की मुक्ति
