19 minute read
Politics pages
from Palatinate 841
by Palatinate
Politics
Student The plight of university students in Afghanistan
Advertisement
Fan Wang
It has been more than a month since Afghanistan was taken over by the Taliban. While much concerning the operation of the new governance remains uncertain, worrying announcements have been made around both schooling and higher education opportunities for women and girls. These include gender-segregated classrooms at university and the exclusion of girls from secondary education from the start of the academic year. These revelations prompt futher discussions surrounding the future of young people and higher education in Afghanistan. Afghanistan’s undergraduate system operates in a similar way to the United States’ higher education system, where the bachelor courses last at least four years. According to World Education News & Reviews, Afghan students study general education for a year, before selecting their major the following year. Whether this structure will be maintained under the Taliban is still unknown. However, both upcoming and confirmed changes pose a massive threat to the country’s academic freedom, education levels, and the future of its young people.
In 2020, Amnesty International reported that the Taliban were responsible for violating human rights and freedom of expression during the twentyyear war in Afghanistan. Such violations already conflict with the purpose and autonomy of education, suggesting that Afghan universities are at risk of losing their academic standing internationally under the Taliban.
If the Taliban replicate the governance of their rule between 1996 and 2001, censorships such as banning entertainment, and oppressing women, could severely affect academic freedom and the literacy rate. Although Taliban spokesman Zabiullah Mujahid claimed that they would be “positively different” compared to the brutal regime during their last period in power, many of the changes implemented so far suggest otherwise. For example, no women will move onto higher education. Despite initial promises that their access would not be restricted, girls have currently been barred from secondary education.
The promise that they would be different this time was made at the Taliban’s first press conference. They claimed that they would be ruling Afghanistan “within the framework of Islamic law”, without providing many details about what this would look like. The Sharia, also known as Islamic law, is a legal system of Islam derived from the Quran, as well as from the Sunnah and Hadith — the deeds and sayings of the Prophet Muhammad. It is used as a guideline for Muslims to understand how to navigate different aspects of life.
As the Taliban follow the Sharia, the legal system itself will strongly influence education in Afghanistan. For instance, university majors such as arts, music, sports, and journalism could be either removed or amended to follow Islamic law. Women may be restricted from studying particular subjects or gaining any experience from work placements. This would have a significant impact on many young people’s future careers.
University should be a place of wisdom and knowledge and one of the lifelong dreams for many ambitious young people, regardless of gender. While university students are supposed to be preparing for the start of term around this time, many reports of students in Afghanistan show that they are desperate to destroy any evidence of their lives before the Taliban’s takeover.
A female student in Kabul, who also belongs to the Haraza minority, told the BBC that she burnt her university notes, hid all the books she read, and deactivated her social media to avoid being tracked by the Taliban. As the place of women in higher education in Afghanistan is in jeopardy, the future prosperity of the country is at stake.
The end of the road for Gavin Williamson
Natalie Rengger
For some time now, Gavin Williamson has seemed to be almost immune to the consequences of his actions. That luck ran out when the recent cabinet reshuffle saw him removed from his post as Education Secretary. Williamson only became an MP in 2010, but his relatively short career has been an eventful one. He rose quickly through the ranks of the Conservative party, becoming Chief Whip and then Defence Secretary in 2017, a post from which he was fired two years later, accused of being the source of a Government leak.
His time as Education Secretary was similarly marred by scandal. Certainly, the Covid-19 crisis meant that Williamson was subject to a higher level of scrutiny than might usually have been the case. Covid-19 caused unprecedented upheaval in education: nationwide homeschooling, a radical restructuring of the exam process, student rent strikes up and down the country, and a university sector stretched to the limits by a massive rise in successful applicants.
Most notably, Williamson was heavily criticised last year after the algorithm he had put in place to moderate teacherassessed A-Level and GCSE grades disproportionately downgraded students from state schools, particularly those from disadvantaged areas. In the immediate aftermath, it seemed, at least for a little while, that Williamson’s career was soon to be over. There were days of protests over the outcome of his grading system, calling for just about everything short of his head on a pike. Perhaps it was due to his eventual U-turn that his career just about survived. To his credit, there was no such algorithm this year. Though he was again criticised for the sharp disparities in attainment between private and state school pupils (70% of private school pupils achieved an A or an A* this year, compared to just 39% of state school pupils), the reaction has been far more muted. Nevertheless, grades have risen across the board, once again leaving universities scrambling to accommodate soaring numbers of students meeting their entry conditions. During his short tenure, Williamson focused much of his rhetoric on the university sector, urging a return to faceto-face lectures this autumn and, perhaps to avoid being defined solely by his reactions to the Covid-19 pandemic, advocating strongly for free speech on campus. Williamson has been a key proponent of the Higher Education (Freedom of Speech) Bill. This would introduce, among other things, a “free speech champion” to monitor whether universities and student unions are properly protecting free speech. It would also provide legal recourse for speakers to seek compensation for any potential loss they might incur if they are no-platformed.
Williamson’s position has been unpopular with student groups and university bodies alike, with the general secretary of the University and College Union calling it a “threat to freedom of speech” based on an “over-exaggeration of issues”. The validity of his argument notwithstanding, by wading headfirst into the so-called ‘culture war’ in such a fashion, Mr Williamson presumably intended to shore up much needed support among the more ideological factions of his party, and, indeed, of the Conservative base.
Despite this, the damage caused to his reputation by successive problems with predicted grades, and the crisis in university admissions which they have provoked, clearly proved to be too much. With schools in England already back,
universities soon to follow, and rising Covid-19 cases all over the country, the next few weeks will be critical for this Government. In such a situation, the Education Secretary must be someone the public trusts, with clear messaging and a clear plan. Arguably, Gavin Williamson lost that “His dismissal was nothing short of trust last year and he could never quite hope to regain it. It remains to be seen if his replacement, inevitable” Nadhim Zahawi, can do better, but for many, Williamson’s credibility was so badly damaged that his dismissal was nothing short of inevitable.
(Victoria Cheng)
(Victoria Cheng, Palatinate illustrations)
Domestic
Politics Afghan refugee resettlement: a North-South divide
Hannah Redman
Despite Boris Johnson’s talk of a ‘levelling up agenda’, with more investment pledged to northern towns and cities, the reality seems to have fallen short. In fact, disparities in willingness to resettle recently displaced Afghan refugees between councils in the North and South of England appear to have widened that divide yet again.
Councils in the North of England have faced underinvestment from central government for decades. Many Conservative MPs were elected in northern constituencies under the proviso by Boris Johnson that the North would receive the same amount of political and financial attention as the South.
As such, former Secretary of State for Housing, Robert Jenrick, announced just before the Covid-19 pandemic that Yorkshire and the Humber councils would receive an extra £275m in funding in 2020/21. However, these headline-catching numbers fail to hit the mark, as this injection of cash only covers approximately half of the shortfall in council funding in the region, dating back to austerity cuts in 2010.
It is important to note that it is not only that councils in the North are suffering the longterm effects of austerity: cracks in infrastructure, healthcare and education are also beginning to show here more than in southern council areas. Council resources are being stretched thinner in Yorkshire in particular, due in part to a large number of Afghan refugees being resettled in the region.
This geographical disparity in refugee resettlement in England dates back further than the recent Taliban takeover of Afghanistan. Figures obtained from the Home Office show that north eastern councils in England have the highest resettlement rate since 2014 (taking in 70 refugees per 100,000 people), whereas London has the lowest in that period (13 refugees per 100,000). The city of Bradford has taken in the most refugees of all English councils over that period, with 635 refugees.
The argument has been made that London is already facing an overcrowding crisis and that northern cities have more space to expand, but how can councils possibly accommodate an influx of refugees when prolonged underinvestment in the North means that resources are already stretched to breaking point?
Yorkshire and the Humber 5
The concern for
(Maddy Burt)
South East 2
South West 3
East Midlands 2
Yorkshire councils is that Afghan refugees may be the straw to break the camel’s back, especially when southern councils are yet to commit to taking in more refugees. A total of £17m of central government funding is also to be shared around all welcoming councils to help resettle the refugee families.
However, such funding will do little to ease the financial struggle of northern councils. All 15 Yorkshire councils have committed
West to welcoming Afghan Midlands refugees, but their 4 compassion is not currently being echoed
East of England 2
Resettled refugees per 10,000 people by region in England
North East 7
London 1
by many southern councils, who appear less willing to stretch their budgets in a similar fashion. The two Afghan refugee resettlement schemes (for Afghan interpreters, and vulnerable and female citizens) have not only highlighted the persisting financial gap between northern and southern councils, but have arguably also brought to light a potential negative bias towards northern England in news coverage.
Oxfordshire was praised in national news headlines for amassing a sizeable amount of clothes and sanitary donations for Afghan refugees. However, despite hard work carried out in Bradford, Yorkshire saw unfavourable coverage after a five-year-old Afghan boy fell to his death from an unsafe hotel window in Sheffield.
The local Labour MP Louise Haigh says the Home Office has a “serious question that they have to urgently answer”, because they had moved refugees out of the hotel a year ago due to safety concerns, yet resorted to using it to house Afghan refugees last month. The Refugee Council blames “a shortage of suitable housing” for the use of hotels. Naturally, the historic underinvestment in the North has not helped this shortage.
Mr Johnson’s ‘levelling up’ pledge is yet to materialise in real terms – in fact, the gap is seemingly becoming even wider and more dangerous.
areas of consensus that do exist between the young and old – on the NHS and tackling climate change, for instance. Perhaps the starkest legacy of the Iron Lady’s children was to create a political generation which is totally opposed to everything she stood for.
Saffron Dale
Intergenerational inequality is a problem that has gained recent prominence, especially arguments surrounding the generational fairness of the Government’s decision to increase National Insurance tax. In all ways political, socioeconomic, and cultural, statistics show that the two ends of the age spectrum are divided. The generation that came of age in The Eighties, lovingly dubbed ‘Thatcher’s children’, may have had an outsized impact on the generational differences we see today. Although Thatcher’s children have presided over widening inequality, are they necessarily to blame? This article tries to find the roots of the difference in generational experience today.
“There is no such thing as society”, the famous quote from former Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, encapsulated the hyper-individualistic attitude that became dominant in the 80s. People in Britain who came of age during the Thatcher years were instilled with a new moral attitude that was disdainful of state help and Victorian in its commitment to putting yourself first and helping others after. But what impact does the change in political culture during the 80s have on young people today?
Mark Leonard, Director of the European Council on Foreign Relations, claims that there is “a perennial lack of respect and attention paid to the young”. His remarks followed the resignation of the Government’s former education tzar, Kevan Collins, over the Treasury’s refusal to finance education catch-up for students who could not attend school during the pandemic. Decisions like these supposedly reveal the disdain held for students today by ‘Thatcher’s children’.
As a result, the stereotypical perspective among the young is commonly assumed to be resentful towards older people. However, research finds that young people are not resentful, but instead “know they’ll be old someday” and “don’t blame them”. So, despite Mr Leonard’s assertion that the young are perennially disrespected, there does not seem to have been a tangible backlash thus far.
The media does not help matters, with certain outlets slandering students as ‘snowflakes’ and ‘woke’. The negative effect is on an older audience, who may be more likely to take these stereotypes seriously. Although regiment and social convention have been quietly replaced with relativism and celebrating difference, there remain aspects of modernity that many students dislike. Many of us, for instance, oppose the emergence of ‘cancel culture’. Young and old both have this in common. However, It may be too optimistic to suggest that meaningful cultural consensus exists.
Take Brexit, for instance. Politically speaking, the intergenerational gap has widened significantly. Until the 1980s, age wasn’t a defining factor in those who voted Labour. However, age has now become the greatest electoral predictor, and it is statistically twice as likely that young people will vote Labour, rather than Conservative. Culture wars like Brexit worsened this divide, as over 65s were twice as likely to vote leave as under 25s. Brexit was the epitome of generational divisions, with polls clearly indicating that age was the strongest political dividing line. For many young people, the vote to leave the European Union felt like an assault on their futures.
Looking at the electoral map of 2016, an interesting observation can also be made. Polly Toynbee of The Guardian notes how generations are geographically divided, since young people often reside in cities whilst older people retreat to the countryside. This difference in geographical location means that young and old live and socialise in different spheres, and besides within families, the two rarely interact with one another.
‘Thatcher’s children’ presided over a great generational divide, which still permeates our politics today. There are
(Rosie Bromiley)
Politics
International Merkel’s legacy? Trust, competence and pragmatism
Joe Rossiter
Deputy Politics Editor
After 16 years as German chancellor, Angela Merkel’s fourth and final term will end after Sunday’s federal election. During her time in office, she has consistently overcome crises at home, in Europe and around the world; her political skill evident in the fact that she has chosen to step down, rather than being forced, a rarity among politicians.
As she leaves office, the stability and familiarity of Germany’s first female chancellor will exit too, seen already in the tight race between Mrs Merkel’s Christian Democratic Union (CDU), the centre-left SPD and the Greens for this month’s election. Party leaders of each have been reluctant to stray too far from the outgoing chancellor, with the SPD’s Olaf Scholz pictured striking Mrs Merkel’s signature diamond hand gesture and running ads branded with Er kann Kanzlerin, he can be chancellor, using the female term for the office.
How did she sustain such a prolonged period as chancellor in a volatile political period, surviving through crises varied and severe? What is her legacy as voters prepare to elect her successor? The answers give clues to the German political psyche, as well as Mrs Merkel’s own unrivalled political skill.
Many world leaders can be defined by a single major event: Theresa May by Brexit, George Bush by 9/11 and its aftermath. With Angela Merkel, it is difficult to choose any one crisis. Her first major test came with the 2008 financial crash and the following European sovereign debt crisis, which culminated with huge controversy over the Greek bailout plan. As would become a theme over her chancellery, Mrs Merkel, after taking time to reach a decision, stood firm on her view that harsh measures were required in Greece to maintain the integrity of the eurozone, repeatedly using the term alternativlos, no alternative.
It is this pragmatism that so often won out in Mrs Merkel’s decision-making, even if, as the daughter of a Protestant minister, her moral compass sometimes interfered. Take the huge influx of migrants and refugees in 2015, where the chancellor initially endorsed a soft border policy and welcomed over one million asylum-seekers into Germany. This was arguably guided by compassion over political calculation, widely supported until a spate of sexual assaults in Cologne on New Years’ Eve 2015, many committed by individuals later confirmed as asylumseekers.
As public opinion on the policy began to turn, so did the chancellor, adopting several restrictive measures, including a cap on the number of refugees, proposed by Horst Seehofer, a harsh critic of her policy in the Christian Social Union (CSU), the CDU’s more conservative Bavarian sister party. For some time, Mrs Merkel’s iron grip on the CDU/CSU structure was threatened, weakening her and precipitating her resignation as party leader in 2018.
This event was uncharacteristic for the chancellor: a rare reversal of policy and a decision taken based on emotion. Once tied to a position, she generally remained steadfast for better or worse. During Brexit negotiations, recognising that to give Britain a favourable deal would be to the benefit of anti-EU parties across the continent, she spearheaded the simple rhetoric of maintaining the integrity of the bloc and its freedoms, unresponsive to numerous charm offensives.
This stubborn streak has occasionally backfired, for Germany if not for the chancellor herself. In 2011, after the Fukushima nuclear disaster, Mrs Merkel’s government announced the immediate shutdown of eight of Germany’s 17 reactors, with the rest scheduled to close by 2022. Such a kneejerk reaction has had negative consequences: in the first half of this year, coal was the largest source of energy to the country’s system, lagging behind peers on the world stage. The lack of action on the climate has also prompted a surge in support for the Greens, boosted by the devastating floods earlier this year.
In recent years, the CDU has also been losing votes to the rightwing Alternative für Deutschland (AfD), which became the first farright party to win representation in the Bundestag since the end of the war. The party was born in 2012, almost a direct response to Mrs Merkel’s favoured phrase on the Greek bailout crisis: alternativlos. These outcomes show key flaws in her strategy, including a complacency that personal popularity among voters would sustain her policies.
Overall, however, Mrs Merkel’s tough negotiating stance combined with a thorough diligence has served her well, particularly through coalition talks over her four election victories, though it was during the pandemic that these skills have most recently shone through. A chemist before her political career, the chancellor managed the first phase of the crisis soundly, coordinating the response across Germany’s federal states and keeping the virus under relative control. Though cohesion has been more fraught in recent months, a successful – if delayed – vaccine rollout has abated a further wave of the virus.
These key events and many others beyond stand as testament to traits described in nearly every media profile of Mrs Merkel. Her pragmatic, managerial and technocratic style stands in contrast to other, brasher leaders and while this has contributed to incredible political longevity, questions remain over how effective they have been beyond sustaining office.
According to confidants, Mrs Merkel’s guiding political motto is In der Ruhe liegt die Kraft, in quiet there is power, evidenced by her frequent refusal to mould policy debates herself, leading from the back. Throughout her chancellery, she has been content to allow public opinion to form before intervening, an asset when cajoling potential government partners or carefully managing a bloc of over 500 million people, but detrimental to issues such as the climate debate. Though nuclear power, for example, is not popular among German voters, the country is not currently on target to meet its obligations under the Paris Climate Accords, a fact which will endure if coal remains the largest energy source.
This unconventional and sometimes flawed strategy extends to Mrs Merkel’s complex relationship with her public. She ended a 2013 leaders’ debate with the words ‘Sie kennen mich’, ‘You know me’, though this is not truly accurate: far more precise would be ‘You trust me’. This is a value that surrounds the chancellor at both a personal and professional level. She has kept a tight group of confidantes since her ascendance to the CDU leadership in 2000, most of whom still work for her today. Hers is an administration low on drama, entrusted by the public to apply a thorough, common sense-led process to each issue, almost transcending policy by being founded on the steely, determined character of its leader.
The question of how to judge Mrs Merkel’s leadership is therefore complex. Her legacy is surely one of stability: clear and knowledgeable leadership, if perhaps slow and somewhat passive at times. As the Merkel era ends, Germany may realise a sentiment expressed by the chancellor in July: “You usually only miss something once it’s no longer there”.
Mrs Merkel is still extremely popular: hypothetical polling shows that she would most likely win a fifth term if she wished. Her party, however, looks to be consigned to opposition and may shift to the right if leader Armin Laschet is forced out. Friedrich Merz, the pro-business social conservative and fierce Merkel critic, finished narrowly second in the 2018 and 2021 leadership elections: he may have a central role in diluting her moderate legacy.
Despite this volatility, Mrs Merkel has surely etched her name firmly into German history; her era will stand forever as a lesson to future leaders: ignore consensus-building and discipline at your peril. While she can be criticised for any number of decisions, views or actions, her longevity, combined with her measured, methodical style often delivered meaningful compromise. As the Merkel era slips away, the contrast may well be stark.
