As part of the Sustainable Development Goal (SDG) agenda, governments worldwide have committed to delivering inclusive and equitable high-quality education for all children. India has been no exception. India’s Right to Education Act (RTE) has ensured a quantitative expansion so that all eligible schoolgoing students are brought within the formal education system at the elementary/primary education level . However, government schools continue to suffer from high dropout and low retention rates, leading to questions surrounding the implementation of the SDG agenda. Most research into Indian government schools has also concluded that government education provision is of poor quality. These problems are compounded by an exodus of the middle and lower-middle classes from government schools into private provision. Anecdotal evidence shows that even teachers teaching at government schools often choose a private alternative for their children.

Together with Dr Kusha Anand, CEID’s Marie Lall has just published a book on education policy and practice in Delhi government schools that critically examines these dynamics. The open access volume focuses on the past 6 years, during which Delhi schools have experienced major reforms led by the Aam Aadmi Party (AAP) government, which was elected in 2015 and re-elected in 2020 on the basis of improved public service provision. Anand and Lall’s book, Delhi’s Education Revolution, explores in depth the connections between the AAP’s policy and practice in this area.  The book is available for download free here.

Delhi’s Education Revolution is a rather unique book in that it is based on the voices of 110 Delhi teachers who reflected on their classroom practice and critically discussed how far the changes have indeed improved education for all children, no matter what background they are from. The book aims to show that listening to stakeholder voices is key for the continued success of reform processes. It argues that the AAP reforms have largely delivered higher quality and more appropriate education for a wide section of society. However there have been costs to teachers’ lives and practice, and the children from the poorest sections of society receive a reduced level of education through the practice of setting, in order to improve a school’s and a city’s overall achievement score. The book critically evaluates the AAP government’s education policy through the eyes of those most affected by the changes – the teachers.

By Nicholas Chiu 

BSc Politics and International Relations

The dramatic Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2022 has led to a plethora of humanitarian appeals and databases to catalogue these appeals, leading, paradoxically, to anxiety among ordinary people on how to navigate this information to help Ukraine. Perhaps you are a Ukrainian citizen, or have friends or family living there. Or you may be a concerned citizen whose horizons extend beyond Britain’s borders. You might be unsure of how to help Ukrainians in their time of need. If you were to probe Google for answers, you might discover websites such as WRAL’s list of charitable organizations to support, Charity Watch’s Top-Rated Charities Providing Aid In Ukraine or CNBC’s list of the top-rated charities to help the Ukraine relief effort. Whilst useful and concise in themselves, such lists only provide cursory summaries, lacking breadth and detail. To bridge the information gap and present the information in a more directly accessible way, a team of UCL undergraduate students, myself included, have created an online database that provides critical evidence on charities aiding Ukraine (such as Charity Navigator ratings, methods of donating and past controversies), media sources and journalists covering the war (such as sources of revenue and ownership) and circulating myths.

My own involvement with this database began on the fateful morning of the 24^th of February, when I saw the news that Russian troops had crossed the border into Ukraine. Like many of my peers, I was under the myopic assumption that Europe could not, once again, see a conflict involving a major power break out within its borders, at least not within the decade. To us students of international relations, Putin’s flexing of military muscle in 2021 had been no more than posturing for diplomatic concessions. We were gravely mistaken. We woke to the realisation that one man had seized the imperium by thwarting his country’s nascent democratic endeavours and appointing himself dictator perpetuo: dictator for life. His Soviet-red-tinted glasses only filtered through visions of a Ukraine that had once existed under Communist hegemony as a glorious breadbasket of the Soviet Union under Russian control, but it failed to admit the grey and dismal spectres of Ukrainians starving in the man-made Great Famine of 1932-1933 and other divisive narratives that had entrenched Ukraine’s desire for freedom and independence. Putin knew no world order than the one he grew up in, and saw no alternative than to throw a generation of young Russian and Ukrainian soldiers into the meat grinder, as well as anyone unfortunate enough to be caught in the crossfire, in an effort to erase Ukrainian statehood.

After days of constantly refreshing news apps and attending solidarity protests on Downing Street, three groups of people would not leave my mind: the Ukrainian soldiers fighting against the Russian army, the Ukrainian civilians caught in a warzone, and the Ukrainian refugees spilling out across the country’s borders. I was plagued by the lingering, reverberating thought that I was not doing enough as an individual to contest this injustice. Therefore, I took the opportunity to materialise my sentiments into action. I joined Students for Ukraine, a project run by Professor Brad Blitz, the Head of the Department of Education, Practice and Society, where I led a team of 7 Politics and International Relations and Philosophy, Politics and Economics students to research pathways for assistance (Emilijia, Maria, Jia Yue, Wynsey, Ingrid and Laurynas).

Together, we created a database congregating data and information on charities, media sources, individual journalists and war myths, conveniently assembled into one Google Sheet. We evaluated the transparency and trustworthiness of 32 charities (as well as 46 media sources and journalists), utilising data from Charity Navigator, a prominent charity assessor, in addition to analysing the charities’ own annual financial statements. The database includes references and all information was cross-checked. Collating the results of our research, we created a leaflet to be posted around campus that appealingly visualised key facts on our top 10 recommended charities supporting Ukraine.

The war is far from over. Ukraine needs our help now. Eventually, when the conflict subsides, Ukraine will yet need our support to rebuild and rehabilitate. It is never too late to donate, and if you are unsure or uncertain where your contribution goes, our database and leaflet are here to assist you.

In June, 2022, High Court Justice Jonathan Swift ruled that the British Home Office’s planned deportation of some 31 asylum-seekers to Rwanda could go ahead, against evidence offered by UNHCR and others that such removal could lead to serious violations of the asylum-seekers’ human rights. These deportations have allegedly been approved out of respect for assurances that the asylum-seekers will be offered protection and a right to remain in Rwanda. However, in his latest piece for the Byline Times, Brad Blitz argues that there is limited legal basis for such assurances, and, worse still, that there is no system in place for follow-up monitoring of the asylum-seekers to be deported by the Home Office. With the first removal flight scheduled for Tuesday, activists are pinning their hopes on the Court of Appeal overturning Swift’s decision. Yet, Blitz cautions against such optimism, since the appeal may only deal with the judge’s decision and not the critical evidence from UNHCR and other human rights authorities that was dismissed in the case. For a full break down of the case and its logical foundations, check out Blitz’s full article here.

By Rodie Garland

When a country is invaded, what are the effects on education – and how can we know? Given the scale of the assault on Ukraine, there is a sense in which it is impossible to assess these effects in their entirety – nationally, socially, and individually. If you’ve fled your home, leaving behind your family’s livelihood and, perhaps, family members; if you’ve been without shelter or water or food; if you’ve suffered trauma – then of course your education will suffer. But this impact is difficult to measure and may not be your foremost concern. The reliance on measurable data to support policy in education and international development is indeed recognised as controversial (see, for example, the work of Sotiria Grek). At the same time, missing elements in the existing data present obstacles to ensuring inclusive and equitable education: something the NORRAG Missing Data project aims to address. We also need to bear in mind that data, and how we use them, is not neutral. When we work with education data, we need to be asking what it is that we are and are not measuring, in what contexts, and with what purposes and consequences.

With all this in mind, there is much data currently being collected that is useful in giving us at least a partial picture of the education impacts of the war in Ukraine. A daily tally is kept of the numbers of internally displaced persons (IDPs) and those leaving the country (respectively 7.7 million and 5.2 million as of 25 April), presenting a top-line indication of the level to which everyday life is disrupted. It is worth pointing out that for many Ukrainians, this did not begin on 24 February: conflict has been ongoing in the east since 2014, with an estimated 1.5 million people internally displaced before the recent invasion. Though none of these figures are perfect, as individuals slip through the cracks in war, they do disproportionately represent women and children: it was estimated, as of 1 April, that 999,500 school-aged children were internally displaced. By 18 April, Save the Children warned that two-thirds of all children in the country had been uprooted from their homes: clearly, an upheaval with enormous consequences, including for schooling.

Along with displacement come the concerns of basic survival that make any kind of learning difficult. Depending on what data are collected, when and by whom, education may or may not feature among these concerns. A survey of IDPs asks adults to report their current needs, selecting from a list of options; the needs reported as most pressing are financial and health-related, with others including clothes and shoes, transportation, information or means of communication (e.g., internet connectivity), food, accommodation and hygiene. Since much education is currently taking place online (see below), and since over half of displaced households contain children, we can speculate that the issues reported here indicate educational impacts.

Other data do seem to place more of an emphasis on children and their schooling, although reliable systems for monitoring and tracking children have also been severely disrupted. Throughout the country, children are experiencing separation from parents, the destruction of family units and the breakup of their communities. The Global Protection Cluster reports that the main issues faced by those living in shelters are a lack of rooms for family units and lack of gender separation, as well as overcrowding, lack of water and lack of electricity. It also identifies the main risks for this population which, alongside exposure to violence, shelling and mines, and family separation, include lack of access to education. Overall, 3.3 million children are estimated to need ‘education in emergency’ assistance.

This level of disruption is caused not only by displacement, but by the destruction of educational institutions themselves. Evidence from eye witnesses, key informants and satellite imagery allows for frequent updates on the total number of educational facilities damaged – 1,237 as of 21 April, with over 9% of educational institutions destroyed completely. There are also reports of at least three instances of schools being used for military purposes, and 14 where they have been used as shelters or for other humanitarian purposes. Using schools for military purposes turns them into military targets, endangering children’s lives, not to mention the damage to educational infrastructure.

While little of the data currently being collected mention gender differences, undoubtedly there are specific risks to girls, as illustrated by the awful news reports of the rape and murder of women and girls in Bucha. While women and girls will not be the only victims, the Global Protection Cluster reports that gender based violence (GBV) is a reality for those who are internally displaced. This comes amidst increased military presence, lack of access to safe shelter and basic goods, and a high risk of trafficking at borders, in a country where even before the war 67% of women reported experiencing some form of GBV after the age of 15. At the same time, there is a warning that the widespread proliferation of light weapons is likely to increase the risk of school-aged youngsters being drawn into armed groups, something that is perhaps most likely to affect boys.

And yet, while the war rages, schools open wherever they can, for face-to-face or online learning. One of the many ‘unprecedenteds’ of the COVID pandemic is a situation where a country like Ukraine now has a developed infrastructure for remote learning, while its children have experience of turning to technology for their education. The Ukrainian Ministry of Education and Science (MON) reports that as of 21 April, nearly 90% of schools are operating in some form. Over 12,000 secondary schools have introduced remote learning, with over 3.7 million students taking part in some kind of schooling (out of a total of 14,000 schools with 4.2 million students, excluding Crimea, Luhansk and Donetsk). In 14 of 25 regions, all educational institutions are operating, via remote learning; three regions are running remote, blended or face-to-face learning; and at least some schools are running remotely in remaining regions. Kindergartens operate in 15 regions, while most vocational, professional and higher education institutions are running where the local situation permits.

Many children who have left their homes are either taking part in remote learning, or accessing schools in the places where they now live. The MON puts the figure for the latter group at nearly 87,000 (21 April), a growing number. Levels of online learning will vary between regions, but to give some perspective (albeit anecdotally), a teacher contact in Kyiv reports that around 70-80% of students at her school are attending remote lessons. Schools were asked to report data on online attendance up to 14 April, which suggests that more concrete information on participation might soon become available. She also tells me that of those learning remotely, around 85% are in Ukraine, with 15% elsewhere. Indeed, Education Minister Serhiy Shkarlet claims that Ukrainian pupils abroad are prioritising online learning in their home schools, and want to complete the school year with their own teachers. Most Ukrainian students in the Netherlands, he says, are choosing remote learning, with special classes and even schools being set up for them. Ukraine has also asked members of the Standing International Conference of Inspectorates to disseminate information about Ukraine’s online platforms to enable children to access Ukrainian education wherever they are. At an event held recently by NORRAG’s partners the International Parliamentary Network for Education, Serhiy Shkarlet underlined the MON’s work to ensure that learning continues. Such education offers a pathway of resistance: a subject for a future blog post.

One unknown is what becomes of those children who have crossed into Russia. Russia claims that over 863,600 people, including more than 158,170 children, have crossed into its territory since 24 February. While the UN cannot verify these figures, it estimates that as of 17 April, over 522,000 people have travelled to the Russian Federation. There are reports that in some cases people have been subject to forcible deportation, and concerns that Russia is intending to implement the enforced adoption of some Ukrainian children. In any case, those crossing into Russia will include students at all levels of education, and as yet it is hard to guess at the consequences for their educational futures.

Even while schooling continues for the majority of children, we currently know little of how children and adults are experiencing this. International evidence from the pandemic points to inequalities, including gender inequalities, in who accesses online learning. And for children living through war, there are issues that technology alone cannot solve. The very nature of education will need to change: one teacher reports taking her students through breathing exercises to manage their anxiety, while mine risk education is now critical, according to the Education Cluster. Alongside this, it states, must come training for teachers on life skills education, and emotional and psychosocial support – and help for them in their role as care-givers as well as educators. Children attending their usual school between air raids, or adjusting to life in another country, whether in a new school or connecting with familiar faces online, will have vastly different experiences. Understanding all of these, with the help of monitoring and evaluation techniques like  AGEE framework, associated with CEID, will help address some of the issues of missing data, and is part of understanding the costs of war.

Rodie Garland is a doctoral candidate in the Department of Education, Practice & Society (EPS) at  UCL IOE, where her research focuses on home-school relations. She holds a BA in Russian. The research for this blog was funded by EPS and linked to the work of the AGEE project.

By Alexandra Lewis

In 2009, I was working in Russia on a research project looking at Chechyna. I was threatened (in a roundabout way as these things are done) and shifted my research instead to Somalia and Yemen – two safer places – which I then spent almost a decade looking at as an education and conflict specialist. I have since travelled all over the world, to Afghanistan, Bosnia Herzegovina and beyond. Yet the feeling of something unfinished has never left me. Over the past three years I shifted my focus back to Russia, because the parallels between my ancestral home and the war-torn countries I was studying began screaming to me that they could no longer be ignored. In particular, I saw an extreme securitisation of identity politics emerging, with volatile potential. How countries wage war on domestic populations elsewhere has been informative to me when considering the current assault on Ukraine. However, what we are witnessing today is not Afghanistan, Somalia or Yemen either.

It is easy now, when thinking about “War”, to lean on examples from recent history to try to understand what Ukraine must look like today. Running with this comparison, let me state that the Russian invasion of Ukraine is nothing like, for example, the Taliban takeover of Afghanistan. We are talking here about a highly trained military operation supported by an immensely sophisticated intelligence apparatus. Moreover, since we are now dealing with the potential absorption of Ukraine into Russian territory or into a Russian sphere of influence, we need to plan ahead of time to work within the Russian repressive architecture of foreign agents laws, censorship and totalitarianism, which brings with it significant dangers for aid recipients. This complicates the humanitarian response so aptly described by my colleague, Brad Blitz, below. To truly understand the needs created by this crisis, we therefore have to look at the bigger picture, which takes us beyond simply Ukraine’s borders to Belarus and Russia.

Last week, we were in all probability looking at the end of Ukraine as a country, and at the least at the end of Zelensky’s Government (which may soon be replaced by a Russian puppet state). Though now we see the resilience of the Ukrainian people to invasion and support incoming from the West, this is still a distinct possibility. We are also looking at the end of Belarusian sovereignty, which Russia has simply swallowed on its way to Ukraine. Finally, and not to be forgotten, we are also witnessing the death of any remaining freedom in Russia: under incoming sanctions and the threat of national security, Putin can completely cut Russians off from the wider world and return the country to full totalitarianism, which he is doing. In one move, Putin has this week effectively destroyed three countries.

This is not Afghanistan, these are not the Taliban

In 2021, prominent Kremlin aid, Vladimir Surkov, famously wrote in an essay that Russia has a social entropy problem. Using metaphors rooted in thermodynamics, Surkov explained that chaos always increases, and that social chaos and political instability follow the same principle. According to him, in order to ensure Russia’s future stability, the country’s social entropy must continuously be exported from the centre to the peripheries, and the easiest way to ensure this is through regular military expansion.

I have spent the last year writing a book on Pre-Conflict Imperialism in Russia: a book on the idea that Putin has deliberately been pushing the Russian people to adopt a new identity based around a continual readiness for war, that Putin leaches off the very idea of war to ensure the continuation of his regime. This trend has been active for a long time, and the invasion of Ukraine has been years in the making. From Putin’s testing of the waters in Crimea in 2014, to the Russian involvement in Syria as a military training exercise writ large, Russia has been continuously investing in the professionalisation and expansion of its armed forces, since their embarrassing performance in Georgia in 2008. At the same time, Russia has been destabilising Ukraine and testing Western reactions to this by feeding conflict and insurgency in the Donbas Basin. Commentators will now say “yes, but what about the supply issues that the Russian army is facing? What about the failure to commit sufficient resources to hold cities in Ukraine?” These to me can only be taken as evidence of incompetence on the part of the state if the aim is to occupy Ukraine. I do not believe that is the end game: to me, war itself and the chaos that it produces are the purpose of this invasion.

But why the long preamble to war?

The long preamble to the invasion, with the mobilisation of forces along the Russo-Ukrainian border for months on end in 2021 and 2022 was immensely costly. It led to speculations on all sides, the raising of opposition voices in Russia, not to mention the logistical and morale costs of housing military units far from home in a state of constant readiness. It could be argued that this was done to provoke Ukraine into firing at Russian personnel, so as to provide Russia with a legitimate justification for attack. That this did not happen is an incredible testimony to the sheer fortitude and strength of will of the Ukrainian people and their servicemen and women. In an awesome show of collective national commitment to peace, the likes of which I do not think we have ever seen before, Ukrainians did not fire a single shot across the border at Russia. It made no difference. That Putin chose to invade regardless implies that he had confidence enough that he could sell this war at home without a need for even this pretext for invasion.

This leads me to conclude that the need for a highly visible build up lay elsewhere. Over the past several years, and since the invasion of Crimea, Russia’s actions have led to a loud discussion of possible sanctions among Western powers in particular, and Putin has taken note. By triggering this discussion, Russia has been able to anticipate the sanctions regime that is now being discussed and prepare its economy and reserves for their imposition. The strength of the Russian economy and its ability to weather crisis has routinely been miscalculated: the standard phrase one hears jokingly applied in this field is that “Russia has the GDP of Texas”, a totally meaningless phrase and a meaningless comparison between a state and a country where costs of living are totally different, and where GDP does not reflect funding to the armed forces and active military personnel, whose loyalty is carefully financed. It is also meaningless in a context where the suffering of ordinary people under sanctions – and make no mistake here, it will be ordinary people and not the elites who suffer their impacts – simply does not factor into state decisions.

A long preamble to war allowed Russia to anticipate the international response to their takeover of Ukraine, plan for it, and, importantly, secure relative non-intervention from China.

Sanctions and propaganda

Many commentators are stating that Putin’s popularity will fall when sanctions hit the Russian people and body bags start being sent home from Ukraine. But body bags from distant wars have rarely led societies to turn on their Governments (we can count the cases). Given that Russia has banned non-state media, declared online rigorous and independent journalists to be foreign agents, and imprisoned, murdered or chased out its opposition parties, the full telecommunications apparatus of the state will now be turned towards converting body bags into fuel for budding hatreds between Russians and Ukrainians, and it will have a pretty clear and open field in which to do so. Let us keep in mind here that in the build-up to war, the belief was already spreading across Russia through state news channels that this confrontation has been orchestrated by NATO, not Putin. There are some incredibly brave Russians protesting in cities across the country, despite the arrests, despite the repressions: but the propaganda machine has largely been effective.

Sanctions and counter-sanctions will assist the Kremlin in maintaining its lie about the “special operation in Ukraine”: Putin can now close airports, sever business ties between Russians and the West, prevent travel, move the country from an internet to an intranet if he wants to and ban YouTube, arrest even more dissidents, and bring down the iron curtain, all the while blaming these moves on the cruel international community and its unfair decision to cut off Russia from the world. We are already seeing debates in Latvia, Estonia and Belgium about banning all Russians from travelling to these countries: these are places that have traditionally offered safe harbour to those fleeing Putin’s repressions, who now have fewer and fewer avenues through which to run. Added to this is the reality that Russia is not comprised of ethnic Russians alone – a conveniently unremembered truth in Europe. There are no “pure” Russian families there (indeed I would argue there is no such thing as purity anywhere), and yet there is a long history of targeting ethnic and religious groups for repression on the basis of identity. The borders must stay open, at the very least in the short term for mixed Russo-Ukrainian families to get out.

Three birds with one stone

Even as Russia uses this war to entrench Putin’s totalitarian dictatorship and seize large chunks of Ukraine, it is also finalising its soft annexation of Belarus, whose shell of remaining sovereignty is now crumbling to dust before our eyes. This brings all three territories under Russia’s legal and security frameworks, which means: those receiving assistance from the international community through financing and external support may very soon face accusations under the foreign agents law, which has already been used to shut down everyone from NGOs to newspapers in Russia. Russia’s military campaign has been implemented hand in hand with a large scale information crack down, with restrictions on internet freedom, Twitter and Facebook, alongside threats of closing down Telegram. Russia is working hard to control the narrative at home and will bend its will to doing the same in any Ukrainian territory it takes over, which will mean targeting in the first instances organisations with ties to Western funding.

We must continue to donate to and help these organisations, even as we do so with eyes open, knowing that this danger may be coming. But we must do so while preparing to help colleagues to get out of Ukraine if they need to. The British decision to suspend visas to Ukrainian nationals this week is utterly disgusting in this regard. I must repeat here: this is not Afghanistan, these are not the Taliban. The Russian Government will absolutely have the capacity in place to find and punish threatening institutions that it sees receiving funding from abroad. And yet despite this fact, we must continue to help Ukraine, and we must widen the net of support: we must help Ukrainian colleagues flee for their lives in the immediate moment and finance those humanitarian organisations choosing to stay behind, but we should also prepare to help colleagues do the same in Belarus and Russia tomorrow.

Dr Hilary Perraton – died 15 November, 2021.

Hilary Perraton was associated with the University of London, Institute of Education, Education in Developing Countries (EDC) Department (now The Centre for Education and International Development – CEID), since the late 1970s. As a member of the International Extension College (IEC), Hilary worked with Michael Young (Lord Young of Dartington) and Professor Peter Williams of EDC, to establish postgraduate courses about distance education within the EDC international education programme. These courses ran from the early eighties until 2006. During that time, scholars and activists worked in EDC/CEID to research, write about and extend the use of distance teaching in newly independent countries across the world. In 1980, Hilary, together with Michael Young, Janet Jenkins and Tony Dodds, wrote ‘Distance Teaching for the Third World: The Lion and the Clockwork Mouse’. The lion was formal education via schooling and higher education, and the clockwork mouse was an alternative, via distance teaching. This early book was essentially an argument for using distance teaching to extend access to education for those who had missed out. It was to prove a manifesto and rationale for more than 40 years of committed research, scholarship, publishing, and activism aimed at helping many newly independent countries to extend access and improve the quality of education in lower income settings. In 1982, Hilary edited ‘Alternative Routes to Formal Education: Distance Teaching for School Equivalency’ which was published by the World Bank, but perhaps his best-known work was ‘Open and Distance Learning for the Developing World’, first published in 2000 by Routledge, and later, updated and published as a second edition in 2007. In retirement, Hilary turned his attention to researching the history of students who came from overseas to study in Britain. This work built on an earlier study Peter Williams had done entitled ‘The Overseas Student Question’. He researched and wrote two further histories of students who came to Britain to learn: (i) Learning Abroad: A History of the Commonwealth Scholarship and Fellowship Plan, published by Cambridge Scholars in 2009, and (ii) ‘A History of Foreign Students in Britain published by Palgrave-Macmillan in 2014. Throughout his life, Hilary remained a focused and committed international educator; a true scholar and supportive critical friend to most. He could be a tough critic but he was always kind, thoughtful, encouraging, and clear. He lived a driven and worthwhile life, dedicated to improving the lives of others through better education and opportunity.  He inspired many people to work on hard things in the interests of improved education quality, fairness and equity. Hopefully in the future, more CEID scholars will be inspired by his work and life to push the Education for All project forward by whatever means feasible, relevant, and appropriate. Hilary’s wisdom, kindness and sound counsel, are already sadly missed.

Chris Yates

Lecturer in International Education

Emerita Professor Lalage Bown OBE died on December 17^th, 2021, aged 94, after a fall at her home in Shrewsbury.  Lalage was known to us in CEID in many ways. She was a regular speaker at EID events and joined us as a Visiting Fellow during the 1997/98 academic year. During that year she presented a special EID lecture on Literacy, Gender and Development. The lecture, described as ‘analytical and inspiring’ by Miriam Mutesva, one of our MA students, provoked much discussion about power hierarchies and language (see page 21). Over the years, Lalage was an external examiner of the work of our MA and PhD students and a critical friend to staff and students alike.

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by Marie Lall

8^th November 2020 was a historic date for Myanmar. The NLD win was never much in doubt, not least because the only real alternative amongst the 92 contesting parties is the USDP, the party that is home to the former military generals who used to rule the country. The day is historic, not because the NLD won but because by power remaining in NLD hands, Myanmar is a step closer to embedding its participatory system, and taking a step further away from military rule. The military remains part of politics, but it no longer calls the shots.

In light of this historic achievement, it is paramount to remember that Myanmar has challenges and that many citizens, despite their support of the NLD, are deeply disillusioned with how the NLD has managed key issues over the past five years. Given the lack of success in making major changes, it is important to review what remains in effect a laundry list to be tackled between now and 2025.

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http://edc75y.ioe.ac.uk/

Introduction Click here for video introduction by Angela Little. (Click here for text of video script.)

2002 marked the centenary of the Institute of Education and the 75^th anniversary of the Institute’s academic work on education and developing countries. For this 75^th anniversary staff and students of the Education and International Development (EID) group and its predecessor departments gathered for a celebration. This celebration had two elements. The first, on November 22^nd, was an international conference on Education for All (EFA), co-organised with the Education Committee of the UK’s UNESCO National Commission.  The second, on November 23^rd, was a gathering of students and staff. Formal academic study of education and developing countries started at the Institute in 1927 in what was known as ‘The Colonial Department’, long before the term ‘developing countries’ had come into existence.  The Colonial Department was succeeded in 1952 by the Department of Education in Tropical Areas (ETA), in 1973 by the Department of Education in Developing Countries (EDC), in 1985 by the Department of International and Comparative Education (DICE) and in 1995 by Education and International Development (EID). This site (and CD) commemorates the 75 years of the Institute’s work on education and developing countries carried out by staff (see full lists of staff) and students over the period 1927-2002.

It will be of interest to many: current and former students and staff, prospective students and staff,  students and staff in sister institutions worldwide and those who work in a wide variety of capacities in education in developing countries and in international and comparative education more generally.

It has several sections containing papers discussing the history of the five departments, recollections of former and present staff and students, reprints of inaugural professorial lectures, a collection of academic resources, a photo gallery and information about the Institute’s current work in the field.

Dr. Tejendra Pherali, Senior Lecturer in Education and International Development and the research theme leader for Education, Conflict and Peacebuilding at Centre for Education and International Development (CEID) led a workshop on Education, Conflict and Peacebuilding at Chulalongkorn University, Thailand from 6-9 November 2017.

Chulalongkorn UniversityFaculty and graduate students who participated in the workshop

The workshop was hosted by the Institute of Thai Studies at Thailand’s leading Chulalongkorn University, which is conducting a research study to design a peace education curriculum for schools in conflict-affected Southern provinces of Thailand. The workshop aimed to develop researchers’ theoretical knowledge about the interrelationship between education, violence and peace and participatory approaches to curriculum design and implementation in Thai schools.

Reflecting on the workshop, Dr Pherali said, ‘Colleagues in Chulalongkorn University were very keen to design an effective peace education curriculum which could promote a culture of peace in Southern provinces of Pattani, Yala and Narathiwat. The workshop was instrumental in exploring issues around learners’ cultural identities, language of instruction and processes of educational decision-making which need to be accounted for while designing a peace education curriculum. We were also able to draw upon few examples from other conflict-affected contexts which I hope would provide useful insights into Chula’s important work in this area.’

Dr. Pherali with workshop participants and Peace education researchers in Chulalongkorn University

Dr. Pherali speaking at the workshop