Wisdom beyond learning

The 150-year-old arched entrance veils a series of courtyards, each hemmed in by prayer rooms, classrooms and offices.

Bearded men of all ages, wearing skullcaps and in white salwar and knee-length loose shirts, go about their daily routine.

Some sit in rooms memorising the Quran, rocking back and forth. It is just another day at Asia's largest Islamic seminary — the influential Dar-ul-Uloom in Deoband, a village 100 kilometres from India's capital Delhi. The institution evokes awe and reverence among Muslims.

Maulana Qasim Nanotwi, an Islamic scholar, built the seminary in 1866 to promote the purest traditions of Islam and preserve Muslim identity.

The seminary has since produced more than 80,000 graduates. Each year sees about 800 students leave the institution and carry its ideology to different corners of India and, sometimes, beyond.

The best of them teach Islamic law in secular institutions, the next best write textbooks or teach in madrassas, while the rest usually go on to become maulvis.

At present, the seminary has 3,500 students and around 200 teachers.

Dar-ul-Uloom derives much of its authority from the fact that the demographic centre of the Muslim world has long shifted to South Asia. But its austere ideology has earned it a reputation of being too orthodox.

Seminaries across Asia and Europe, including the Haqqania Madrassa in Pakistan, which is alleged to have spawned the Taliban, follow Dar-ul-Uloom's rigid ideology.

Adil Seddiqi, the Deoband seminary's public relations officer, denies the allegation. “We are said to be fundamentalist and obscurantist,'' Seddiqi says, with a tinge of hurt.

“Terrorism is the outcome of the clash between haves and have-nots. It is the outcome of globalisation, of unjust policies [practised] by strong states against weaker ones.''

Asked if any inter-faith education is imparted, India being a country of many religions, Seddiqi says: “We pray five times a day, seeking the blessings of God — who is God of the whole world and not of Muslims alone — for all.''

Seddiqi skirts the question whether Dar-ul-Uloom's interpretation of Islam allows shrine worship (such as prayers at graves of Muslim saints), a practice characteristic of Islam in South Asia and synonymous with Sufism. “There are different understandings,'' he says.

The seminary celebrates the two Eids and students get a ten-day holiday for each. The birthday of the Prophet Mohammad (PBUH) is not celebrated. The two secular holidays observed are India's Republic Day and Independence Day.

Dar-ul-Uloom's curriculum comprises three segments. The first five years are devoted to basic education, which includes the social sciences, Arabic, Hindi, English and Urdu, the medium of instruction.

Islamic jurisprudence is the subject taught for the next seven years, leading to graduation.

Students have the option of going for a further two-year specialisation in Islamic jurisprudence or Arabic literature or logic. The alumni work in places as far as Medina and Manchester.

As Vice-Chancellor Marghubur Rahman is away, his personal assistant Adnan Usmani explains how Dar-ul-Uloom's curriculum has come to be a model for other seminaries.

“Our syllabus is popular and famous and many seminaries in India and abroad follow it. Dar-ul-Uloom Deoband was the first seminary of such scale in South Asia.

"So its syllabus became a model for seminaries that came up later. Initially other seminaries sent their representatives to study here.

"Gradually graduates from our seminaries went to different places and established other seminaries or began working in existing ones,'' Usmani says.

The authority that the Dar-ul-Uloom commands has meant that its opinion is held in high esteem.

The seminary's opinion has been sought by institutions and individuals on issues ranging from cow slaughter to the validity of triple talaq [verbal divorce] to whether men and women can pray together in a mosque.

So numerous are the queries pouring in that a separate department has been set up to look into such aspects.

The Deoband seminary is a world unto its own. The institution, which prohibits coeducation, neither has a women's wing nor any woman employee.

There is no provision for students to play games. Playing music or watching television is not allowed on the campus.

Notice boards on the premises display pamphlets on Islam in various Indian languages made by the students.

The day at Dar-ul-Uloom begins at 4am with prayers, followed by classes till 10.30am. At noon a gong sounds for lunchtime. After the meal and rest, afternoon prayers are held at 2pm, followed by the second shift of studies.

Evening prayers at 5pm are followed by dinner. Prayers are said again at 7pm, after which discussions and debates are held. The last prayers at 9pm bring the working day to a close and students retire to their rooms.

The students live three or four to a room that is wide enough to accommodate only their mattresses and high enough to have overhead shelves for their personal items and books.

“We believe in simple living and high thinking,'' Seddiqi says, adding proudly: “We offer education free of cost to anyone who seeks it.''

Board and lodging for the students are free, too. There is no age limit for admission as a student. The institution, which runs on private donations, has an annual budget of around Rs90 million (Dh8,264,475).

Secluded as they are from the world outside, the students are only too eager to talk. Almost all of them are comfortable talking in Urdu.

Syed Alam, who has two years to go till graduation, wants to become a mufti of the mosque in his village in the eastern Indian state of Bihar. Alam is confident that being a Dar-ul-Uloom student guarantees him the post of mufti.

Ghulam Rasool, who is in his last year at the seminary, believes he is fortunate, as the opportunity to be at Dar-ul-Uloom signifies the blessing of Allah, the serving of whom is his calling in life.

Self-contained as Dar-ul-Uloom is, change is creeping in slowly but surely. On the world's radar since 9/11, the seminary has been under pressure to go for a more modern curriculum.

All work and business is conducted sitting on floors but a board announces the “Department of English language and literature'' over a scalloped doorway.

In 2001, a course in English was started. Though students learn English only for two years, the course enables them to enrol for further studies in other institutions after graduation.

A computer section was established in 2000. Abdul Rahim, a Deoband graduate himself, has been in charge for the last three years.

He says the one-year course trains students in desktop publishing, Photoshop, Corel applications and PageMaker and using the internet.

“There are 30 seats only,'' says Rahim, adding that these are not enough. The institution also has a website.

The war on terror generated interest in the media. This led to the opening of a journalism faculty. After completing the seven-year Islamic jurisprudence course, students may study journalism for two years.

Seddiqi, who worked in the Indian government's Department of Information, moved to the seminary after retirement to make the institution more media-friendly.

A concrete sign of change is a mosque, supposed to be India's second largest, built by the seminary.

The seminary caused a stir when, at a peace conference organised in Delhi in May, it came out with a fatwa against terrorism, stating: “In Islam, creating social discord or disorder, breach of peace, rioting, bloodshed, pillage or plunder and killing of innocent persons anywhere in the world are all considered most inhuman crimes.

'' Asked what prompted the seminary to come up with a reaction at this point, Usmani replies: “Whenever the need arises, we express our opinion.

"The media has been highlighting the issue of terrorism a lot recently. We also felt that Islam was being unfairly equated with terror. So we issued this fatwa.''

The edict was signed by all clerics present at the conference, which, according to media estimates, numbered about 60,000.

Aditi Bhaduri is a freelance journalist based in India.