Supporters of the Inqaz often claim that they expanded higher education in Sudan to meet the needs of the country and enhance its economic development. Yet, the regime's decision to increase student enrolments and to create new universities at a time of dire economic crisis seems to have been designed more to broaden the ruling party's support base, and to increase its share of adherents among future members of the elite, with the aim of eventually controlling professional unions and associations (Abbas 1991). In fact, the expansion of higher education has done nothing to boost employment in Sudan, and has simply meant that many of the people now looking for work are graduates who hold degrees and diplomas. Several of the new universities occupy buildings smaller than a secondary school, the students now have to pay fees, and subsidies for board and lodging are no longer available. Essentially, therefore, the proliferation of higher education institutions, with a new university established in every 'state' in Sudan, has more to do with an attempt to enhance the government's image than with changing economic realities for the country's citizens.

The opening of new universities had a highly negative impact on the University of Khartoum as the country's financial and human resources were redeployed to the new institutions.29 As Linda Bishai (2008: 203) put it: 'The creation of so many new institutions of higher education resulted in scarcer resources for all, even the country's premier institution and national pride, the University of Khartoum.'

Furthermore, because the University of Khartoum had been a focal point for political opposition over several decades, the state's decision to establish many more public universities and to sanction the development of several new private universities throughout the country, can also be seen as an effort to undermine the university, while introducing a more practically oriented (high-school type) education into the higher education sector. El-Hassan (n.d.) notes that the

University of Khartoum was, and continues to be, an anathema for the fundamentalists. The university was viewed as the bastion of secularism in the country and its demise and disintegration was viewed to be important for the Islamic Project. Several of the leading fundamentalists made statements to such effect and some of them today are in positions where they can effectively strangle the university.

In fact, the higher education revolution undermined the university in terms of governance, funding and academic freedom. As noted, some staff were arrested and fired, many chose to leave, and others were expected to take up positions at the many new universities. Several departments lost more than three-quarters of their academic staff. Fewer staff and reduced funding led to a deterioration of research capacity; this in turn added to the severe brain drain, making it virtually impossible to maintain academic standards.30

## *Policy stagnation*

As shown, the government of Sudan radically restructured the higher education sector to advance its political programme, giving no consideration to the disastrous consequences this has had for the quality of learning and for the country's economy. Although various government ministers have expressed reservations, these have been quickly silenced and the regime has made no attempt to revise its policy.

The most serious critique of the Inqaz came in August 1998, ten years after it began, when a conference on 'The State and Future of Higher Education in Sudan' was organised by the Association of Sudanese Academics and held in Cairo (see El Tom 1998). The following observations appear in its report on the proceedings:

A number of decisions were taken including the decisions to double the intake in Sudan's public universities, Arabicise university studies and transform Khartoum Polytechnic into a traditional university. Then other decisions followed. The regime decided to set up a large number of public universities, do away with board and lodging for students at the old public universities, substitute new university Acts for the old ones, force a large number of Sudanese students who were pursuing their studies abroad to come back to Sudan before finishing their studies, allow the private sector to invest in the field of higher education, and force students to enlist in its militia, which is known as the Popular Defence Forces (PDF) and, consequently, to do what it called national service. Furthermore, it decided that students would not get their Sudan School Certificate results or gain access to institutions of higher education unless they did their oneyear stint at the PDF or national services camps or at the front in the South … Some papers presented at the conference show clearly that these decisions were motivated by political and ideological considerations and that they had little or nothing to do with the welfare of the students or Sudan's needs with regard to trained manpower [*sic*]. (El Tom 1998: 125)

The conference noted that the government had: completely politicised the education process; imposed its policy of Islamisation and Arabisation; rejected the most important values of higher education (as exemplified by the need to approach knowledge critically, to doubt, and ask probing questions); encouraged a herd mentality among young people; and alienated many of the country's best academics (El Tom 1998). Delegates at the conference also pointed out that 'The NIF's philosophy of education is based on a narrow vision of religion (theology) and goes contrary to the essence of modern science' (El Tom 1998: 133).

According to the conference proceedings, the situation at the University of Khartoum had become alarming enough by 1994 to cause administrators and students to launch an appeal for rehabilitation, both inside and outside Sudan. The conference also noted that the universities of Khartoum, Gezira, Juba and Sudan lost between 41 and 70 per cent of their academic staff between 1989 and 1994. Even government reports showed that the new universities were ill conceived, poorly funded and terribly understaffed (El Tom 1998).

There is no documentation or literature on student-led criticism or protests about higher education under the Inqaz.31 However, since June 1989, at least 17 students from universities around the country have paid with their lives for peacefully practising or demanding their basic rights (Haj-Omar 2014). What is clear is that conditions for students in Sudanese universities have deteriorated dramatically. Although the University of Khartoum's student union was intensely involved in overthrowing two dictatorships (in 1964 and 1985), it has not functioned since 2010. Nevertheless, and despite the collapse of their union, students at the university went on strike in April 2014 in a courageous protest against the murder of a fellow student, and to demand justice and a violence-free campus. The authorities responded by closing the university for five months (Haj-Omar 2014).

Signs of dissent within the state were evident in 1996, when Abdel Wahhab Abdel Rahim was appointed as minister of higher education, and seemed to be quite critical of aspects of the higher education policy. Three committees were formed: one to study the situation at the new universities, another to examine the private universities, and the third to examine state policy on scientific research and identify how it could be enhanced. Rahim then used the recommendations from the three committees to draft a comprehensive report that was critical of many aspects of the higher education revolution. The report was presented to to the National Assembly in December 1996. Rahim was promptly sacked, and the former minister, Ibrahim Ahmed Omar, was reinstated (see El Mubark 2008).

More than a decade later, the then-minister of higher education, Peter Adwok Nyaba, criticised the Inqaz in a statement made to Sudan's daily newspaper *Al-Rayaam* on 20 October 2008. Noting that the revolution had produced 'students of little use', he described the general situation as 'miserable' (see Abu Shouk 2008). In 2011, Nyaba informed the National Assembly that the higher education budget was less than 2.5 per cent of total government expenditure. He emphasised that the disruption of universities was linked to the emigration of university staff, and revealed that 625 staff members had emigrated in 2011, allowing Saudi Arabia's universities to absorb 180 Sudanese university staff in just one month of that year. He noted also, that despite rising living costs, the salaries of staff at public universities had not increased since 2007.32

Nevertheless, in 2009, Sudan's Ministry of Higher Education and Scientific Research published a report about its achievements for the period 1989 to 2009, in which not a single reference is made to any disadvantages or shortcomings of the higher education revolution (MOHE 2009). The report does mention that one of the problems with the higher education sector before the Inqaz was meagre resources.

The Inqaz has also affected the schooling sector, and was designed to change the outlook of Sudanese children to encourage them to value their Arab and Muslim identity (Breidlid 2005). This should have meant that the universities would then be able to recruit students who had the 'right' knowledge, values and attitudes, and little interest in politics. As Beny (1998) has noted, however, a good higher education system must be able to rely on policies and plans that help to strengthen primary and secondary schooling.

## *International standing*

Until the mid 1980s, the University of Khartoum was among the top ten universities in Africa and the Arab world. Since 1989, the institution has been terribly undermined and its international ranking has suffered accordingly. Of course, international organisations rank the world's universities using criteria that may not always be appropriate. Even so, the University of Khartoum's decline is undeniable (Abdel Rahman 2011). Webometrics, for example, measures the quantity of research, scientific and academic information made available via university websites.33

Table 9.1 shows selected Webometrics rankings for the University of Khartoum and the Sudan University for Science and Technology. Although some improvement is evident, the rankings are low, and the improvements probably reflect an increase in research being published, rather than increased resources, staffing levels or international

*Note:* UoK = University of Khartoum; SUST = Sudan University for Science and Technology *Data source:* Webometrics

collaborations. No other Sudanese universities featured in the top hundred Arab or African universities or anywhere in the first 10 000 universities worldwide in the years shown.

## **North–South collaboration**

From 1956 until the early 1980s, the University of Khartoum sent its junior lecturers abroad to obtain masters and doctoral degrees, and their costs were covered by state funding. During these years, the university enjoyed strong relations with international institutions, and particularly with several British universities. As mentioned, European academics (again, mainly British) were also employed at the university during this time. Others, including anthropologists, archaeologists and historians, often used their holidays to carry out fieldwork in Sudan (Boe 2009). In this way, solid links were established between individual academics and institutions, and Sudanese researchers were often given scholarships by universities abroad. Capacity building was seen as a key element in more formal institutional relationships.

In the case of the University of Bergen in Norway, formal co-operation agreements were set up, and European funding was used to the benefit of both institutions (Boe 2009). From 1976, the two universities launched a number of joint research projects, including the Red Sea Rescue Programme, which was initiated in the 1980s. Relations also developed between the dentistry faculties of the two institutions. Naturally, findings were published jointly where possible (Boe 2009).

This atmosphere of mutual co-operation and trust changed dramatically after 1989. Some Sudanese academics who had been involved in projects with the University of Bergen were removed and replaced, and several staff at the University of Khartoum, who were critical of the new regime, were fired and/or jailed. This made the Norwegian government reluctant to continue supporting projects in Sudan, and in 1991, official collaboration between the University of Bergen and the University of Khartoum came to a halt. Since then, contact has been maintained mainly via academic fellowships and student scholarships, several of which were made possible via Norway's Quota programme (Boe 2009).34

Various other Western universities also withdrew from formal co-operation agreements with institutions in Sudan. What remains is limited staff-to-staff and some intra-departmental collaboration. For instance, the anthropology department at the University of Khartoum is involved in two collaborative projects with the University of Bergen's anthropology department.

The first is a project funded by the Norwegian Programme for Capacity Development in Higher Education and Research for Development (NORHED), which began in 2014 and is expected to run until 2018. NORHED brought together the anthropology departments at the universities of Khartoum, Bergen, Addis Ababa (in Ethiopia) and Makerere University (in Uganda). The prject aims to build capacity by providing post-doctoral fellowships, PhD and MA scholarships, and by organising refresher courses for supervisors, student and staff exchanges, as well as national and regional conferences. By early 2016, the project had supported two post-doctoral fellowships (both from Sudan), seven PhDs (four Ugandans and three Ethiopians) and 13 masters students (three Sudanese, five Ugandans and five Ethiopians).35

The second project, known as ARUSS (Assisting Regional Universities in Sudan and South Sudan), has created links between the anthropology departments at the University of Khartoum, the University of Bergen, the Chr. Michelsen Institute and the Ahfad University for Women.36 ARUSS grew out of an earlier project called Micro-Macro Issues in Peace Building, which ran from 2006 to 2012. It organises training for junior staff members at regional universities in Sudan (Kassala, Red Sea, Gedarif, Diling, Blue Nile and Nyala universities), and provides modest funding to help junior and senior academics to conduct research and publish their work. According to the University of Khartoum's Professor Manzoul Assal, who is involved in ARUSS, very little happened between 1989 and 2005 in terms of collaborative projects, although some individual initiatives continued during this period. It was only after the Comprehensive Peace Agreement of 2005 that this began to shift.37

Ahfad University for Women is an interesting example of the potential for North–South collaboration. In January 2010, Ahfad University was involved in the Regional Institute of Gender, Diversity, Peace and Rights,funded by the Norwegian Agency for Development Cooperation. The university has partnerships with gender institutes at Makerere University in Uganda and Addis Ababa University in Ethiopia to build capacities in higher education in Africa, and to promote gender equality and human rights in a range of contexts.38 This point is mentioned here to show that although international collaborations are declining at Sudan's public universities, Ahfad University has stepped into the vacuum and made some gains.

In 1997, the US imposed comprehensive economic, trade and financial sanctions against Sudan, claiming Sudan's support for international terrorism, ongoing efforts to destabilise neighbouring governments, and the prevalence of human rights violations. Since then, Sudan's relations with China have strengthened, but we do not have any reliable data about academic co-operation between Sudan and China.

## **Conclusions**

Between 1956 and 1989, the University of Khartoum survived a series of legislative and administrative experiments, all related to regime change, few of which had time to take root. Sudan's three military regimes (from 1958 to 1964, from 1969 to 1985 and from 1989 to the present) have all imposed strict controls on the higher education sector, aimed less at improving academic standards than at curtailing and preventing the growth of political opposition. The model of university governance adopted after the 1989 coup was a major turning point for higher education in Sudan. Reforms implemented in the higher education sector since 1989 have been designed to bring tertiary institutions in line with the Islamist ideology adopted by the government, and have done little to improve academic institutions or enhance education levels.

Sudan's experiments with higher education affirm that expansion in the tertiary sector must be done cautiously and gradually. The rapid expansion of the number of higher education institutions and student numbers has resulted in the collapse of existing infrastructure, the use of untrained teaching staff, little staff development and low levels of motivation. While the expansion of higher education was important, and an increase in the number of universities with a fair geographical reach was essential, this should have been carried out after careful study of available resources and the use of sound methods to ensure the most effective deployment of those resources.

For decades, the government has, to a great extent, succeeded in implementing its policy. The crisis in higher education in Sudan is the direct result of a carefully planned policy inspired by Islamist ideology. The government has turned a deaf ear to calls for change, and universities have been forced to comply with state decrees. For universities to function at high levels of excellence, academic staff require the freedom to think, research and teach, while enjoying job security. For much of the period under discussion in this chapter, Islamised knowledge has been taught in Sudan to legitimise the regime and discourage citizens from questioning authority. Unless the University of Khartoum is freed from the state's ideological straitjacket, it cannot be expected to play a leading role in the development of the country.

Research-based knowledge contributes to a deeper understanding of the world around us, of both the physical world and the sociocultural world; in principle, no area should be excluded from the scrutiny of research. And new knowledge should not be rejected or censored *a priori* on moral, religious or political grounds. If truth is the goal, then who can decide which truths people should and should not hear? Of course, many regimes around the world, past and present, have been afraid that scientific, historical or political truths will undermine their hold on power. Authoritarian regimes are particularly vulnerable to criticism from the academic community.

In the Republic of Sudan, tension between the universities and the regime have grown since Sudan's independence in 1956. More than once, student demonstrations have contributed to the fall of an unpopular military regime. This is why students and staff are kept under strict surveillance. In this context, the combination of academic freedom and democratic values is seen as politically dangerous.

The Inqaz set about creating a new generation of Sudanese with an Islamist world view. To achieve this, the education system had to change from bottom to top. Secularism in society and in the schools was out. This had many consequences, not least of which was to intensify the conflict between the north and south of the country. The bold project of Islamising knowledge has created severe restrictions on freedom of research and freedom of speech. Islam was made the guiding principle of research and teaching, and because Islam is believed to have already provided many truths, the fields left open to legitimate and serious research have been limited.

What were the practical effects of Islamisation, Arabisation and the other reforms? First, because academic freedom became restricted, and many academics were thrown into jail or just disappeared, many others chose to leave the country – an option that remains relevant today. The loss of nearly half of the professors from the old universities, combined with the rapidly increasing numbers of students, put pressure on the authorities to fill the vacuum. They did this by appointing a small number of professors from other Arab countries, along with many locals who are loyal to the regime, even if they hold no more than a bachelors degree and have no experience of teaching at or administering a university.

Secondly, the value placed on Islamised and Arabised knowledge and research has prevented postgraduate students from consulting much of the Western literature, from obtaining scholarships to Western universities, and from communicating with universities and colleagues at the forefront of research worldwide. In addition, low budgets and a lack of proficiency in English mean that literature and course material that is available only in English is no longer accessible in the public universities. As Nyaba noted, the Arabisation and Islamisation of higher education added another dimension to the downward plunge of education standards, and this has been exacerbated by the acute shortage of textbooks and reference material in Arabic. The exodus of able Sudanese academics to universities abroad is partly attributable to the phenomenal decay in the state of higher education but it has also contributed to that problem (Nyaba 1998).39

Thirdly, the reforms have tended to exclude non-Arabic speaking and non-Muslim Sudanese citizens from obtaining a university education. Students are forced to learn classical Arabic (to be able to read the basic academic texts) and in this way, education has become an instrument of identity construction, with Arab–Muslim identity portrayed as the most genuine and the most useful of the many Sudanese identities for anyone wishing to pursue a career. Furthermore, the removal of subsidies (particularly board and lodging) means that many students from lower-income families have been deprived of higher education.

If Sudan's public universities and colleges are to have any hope of functioning effectively and helping to build a knowledge society, they desperately need additional financial and human resources, new infrastructure and organisational restructuring. Wide-ranging reforms are needed in all aspects of academic and student academic life. However, the Inqaz look set to continue to shape Sudan's higher education sector for the foreseeable future, and the road ahead for the country's universities is unlikely to be easy.

## **Notes**

## **References**

# CHAPTER 10

# Knowledge generation through joint research: What can North and South learn from each other?

*Ishtiaq Jamil and Sk Tawfique M Haque*

Contrary to widespread opinion, co-operation between Southern regions is neither novel nor new. Centuries ago, the Egyptian, Arab and Persian empires, the Hindu and Mayan cultures, and the African kingdoms, all had dynamic centres of civilisation. Various kinds of exchanges occurred via the movement of emissaries, students, merchants, explorers and military contingents between these centres of influence. The rise of European imperialism and its expansion undermined these relationships, as the slave trade, mercantilism and capitalism progressively created the basis for contemporary inequalities between South and North. The real divisions between North and South began with the Industrial Revolution and the rise of colonialism, with the subjugation of autarchic units forcing Southern nations into economic, educational and cultural dependency (Greene 1989). So much has been lost in this process.

Contemporary scholars of post-colonial studies often refer to the strong Eurocentrism (or Westcentrism) in mainstream theories of international relations and in social and political theory more generally. Global power hierarchies seem to be stuck in post-Second World War configurations of a modern West and a traditional South. Admittedly, many social science theories originated in the West, but this does not mean that no theorising is done elsewhere. Edward Said's *Orientalism* (1978), for example, is a foundational text for post-colonial studies that exposes patronising Western perceptions of the 'Orient' and other parts of the world.

Although Said's work was published decades ago, paternalistic attitudes and behaviours remain. Many academics in and outside the West are still arguing for the cultural and academic histories of the Middle East, Asia, Latin America and Africa to be properly acknowledged and studied. This kind of inclusivity, however, demands the deconstruction of prevailing discourses about ourselves and others. As Grovogui (2007) suggested, post-colonial discourse on science and knowledge should inform development theory, as well as analyses of international relations and development.

In the twenty-first century, geopolitical shifts away from bipolarity (East–West/Russia–USA) to unipolarity (US hegemony) and multipolarity (many global powers in the East and West, North and South) have occurred. Against this background, while many recipients of development co-operation still criticise the paternalism of donor agencies, power relations and normative orientations are gradually changing. According to Waltz (1990), the old configurations are moving towards a new balance of power, albeit within an anarchic system.

Of course, most of the world's wealthier states still promote their strategic foreign-policy interests through dispensing development aid (which is not necessarily the same as development co-operation) as they attempt to enhance their power and influence in other regions. Co-operation on development issues mainly serves these countries' self-interests on the international stage. Certainly, such power plays remain intrinsic to many North–South and South–South co-operation programmes. Altruistic, normative and morally motivated rhetoric about development abounds but, in the end, co-operation is still primarily a tool of foreign policy (Piefer 2014).

Nevertheless, since the early 2000s, South–South and triangular co-operation are two important and emerging forms of development-aid management that can be quite far removed from the typical 'Northern donor–Southern recipient' model. In 2008, signatories to the Accra Agenda for Action affirmed that:

South–South co-operation on development aims to observe the principle of non-interference in internal affairs, equality among developing partners and respect for their independence, national sovereignty, cultural diversity and identity and local content. It plays an important role in international development co-operation and is a valuable complement to North–South co-operation.<sup>1</sup>

South–South co-operation allows for an exchange of knowledge and resources in the political, economic, social, cultural, environmental or technical domains, between governments, organisations and individuals. It can take place on a bilateral, regional, sub-regional or interregional basis and can involve two or more countries. Trilateral co-operation promotes partnerships between various actors including donors, multilateral agencies, public organisations, private sector, academic institutions and civil society organisations. It does not necessarily involve just three partners, but rather three groups of actors: donors, recipients and providers of technical assistance (CUTS 2005). Triangular or North–South–South co-operation usually involves two or more low-income countries in collaboration with a third party, typically a government or organisation in a high-income country that contributes its own knowledge and resources to the exchange (ITUC-CSI 2012).

It is often assumed that Southern researchers benefit most from North–South partnerships. In fact, Northern academics and research institutions also need relationships with Southern countries and institutions to facilitate the development of new knowledge. This is especially true in the fields of natural, medical and social sciences. In this regard, the local and indigenous knowledges of Southern countries remain largely ignored and untapped. Research collaborations between North and South could help unlock some of this knowledge if the challenges facing these kinds of partnerships are overcome, and if Northern researchers acknowledge that their capacities are often significantly enhanced through such partnerships. Southern researchers provide access and hands-on experience that can help Northerners to engage with different cultural contexts, and adapt their research methods to unstable or complex conditions (Bradley 2007).

This means that capacity building is not a need experienced by low-income countries alone. In many cases the policies and positions of high-income countries may not be appropriate in other countries because their policies are based on a particular perspective. Increasingly, agencies are beginning to emphasise the need for sensitisation and capacity building in high-income countries to give some perspective to researchers and other stakeholders there. Awareness is finally growing that the kinds of technical and consultancy services provided by actors from high-income countries are not always appropriate to the needs of countries in the South (CUTS 2005).

Similarly, huge gaps exist between universities and research institutions in the North and the South that are related to the very nature of scientific and technological advances (World Bank 2000). Such gaps and inequalities present a major challenge to effective and fruitful collaboration in joint research and knowledge-generation initiatives. The creation of a 'level playing field' for both the partners is essential.

## **Objective and research questions**

Our objective is to assess the potentials and challenges of knowledge generation through North–South collaboration in the arena of social-science research. The questions we try to address are:

## **A brief review of old North–South partnerships**

Binka (2005) has noted that, in any relationship between North and South, the Northern partner is usually considered the 'giver' and the Southern partner the 'receiver', and the benefits that accrue to the North receive little attention. This implies that inequality is inevitable, and that research collaborations are a form of 'scientific colonialism', whereby the Northern collaborators dictate research agendas, methodologies and budget allocations. Wollfers et al. (1995, cited in Binka 2005) have argued that if Southern partners wish to conduct any research at all, they often have little choice but to accept the priorities and interests of Northern donors.

Although research collaborations have evolved at different times between North and South, control has generally remained in Northern hands. Too often the labour and expertise of Southern researchers is exploited during the data-collection and data-processing phases of research and then results are analysed and published in the North with no acknowledgment of the contributions made by researchers or their institutions in the South.

Binka (2005) has also argued that this trend is changing, and that Northern partners are increasingly showing a willingness to transform what were fairly dubious collaborations into 'true partnerships'. However, a major obstacle to the evolution of 'true partnerships' are the huge gaps that exist between researchers and research institutions in the North and South. The World Bank's Task Force on Higher Education and Society identified some of these as involving: laboratory facilities, equipment and supplies; the availability of well-trained teaching staff; the proportion of well-prepared and motivated students; links with the international scientific community; and access to the global stock of up-to-date knowledge (World Bank 2000).

Implicit in these differences is a range of challenges that face potential research partners. These include:

## **Reducing the gaps**

The economic and geopolitical might of the North has dominated international relations for a long time. The asymmetries within the global economy are so massive that any meaningful convergence will need considerable effort and could take a very long time. Among scholars and researchers, the divergence is expressed in income levels, research budgets and patterns of specialisation, as well as in structural and institutional conditions. Nevertheless, research collaborations between North and South have the potential to create spaces in which the world's finest minds can work together to help dismantle these imbalances.

New kinds of North–South relationships are moving away from the donor–recipient dynamic into partnerships with shared ownership and decision-making (see Nossum, this volume). Interestingly, many NGOs in the North and the South have already made significant progress in forging new and more equal partnerships, transforming previously unequal relationships with donors into authentic partnerships involving mutual trust and respect, mutual accountability and shared ownership in decision-making. All parties to these relationships have helped to restructure, reskill and renew their organisations to better meet the challenges of engaging with one another on a more equitable footing, and have valuable experience to offer to North–South initiatives in the research arena.

Equal partnerships in scientific collaborations between North and South have always been a challenge. One way to address this is to delegate management and financial responsibilities of projects to the South. This is likely to promote confidence in the South in its own capabilities to learn how to manage a project, while enhancing their confidence that their Northern partners are serious about equality. As described below (and in Nossum, this volume), the Norwegian Programme for Capacity Development in Higher Education and Research for Development (NORHED) has some experience to share in this respect.

## **North–South–South research co-operation: Three case studies**

In this section, we provide a brief description of three projects as case studies of North–South–South co-operation in knowledge generation and dissemination. The key actors in the North are the Norwegian government (as donor)2 and the University of Bergen's Department of Administration and Organisation Theory (as the co-ordinating institution). The Southern partners are the Central Department of Public Administration at Tribhuvan University in Nepal, the Department of Political Science and Sociology at North South University in Bangladesh, and the Department of Political Science at the University of Peradeniya in Sri Lanka. The four universities have a longstanding and active relationship that aims to enhance their teaching and research capacities and to contribute to the dissemination of new research-based knowledge.

Tribhuvan University and the University of Bergen began their relationship in 1998, when two graduate students from Nepal enrolled for their MPhil in Public Administration at Bergen under a NORADfunded fellowship programme. A partnership was established between 2007 and 2011 when a joint PhD programme was established between the two institutions, still in the field of governance and public administration. Under the auspices of this ongoing project, known as 'Governance Matters: Assessing, Diagnosing, and Addressing Challenges of Governance in Nepal', several PhD candidates have graduated, some joint research has been undertaken and some publications have been produced.

From 2008 to 2012, all four institutions were involved in establishing a masters programme in public policy and governance in the Department of Political Science and Sociology at North South University in Bangladesh. Students enrolled in the programme came from Bangladesh, Nepal and Sri Lanka and the majority were junior-level civil servants. These development professionals wrote their theses on issues of policy and governance related to their respective countries. The research-based two-year masters programme draws on some of the teaching and learning methods and aspects of the core curriculum used in the University of Bergen's MPhil degree; some graduates of the Bergen course played a catalyst role in this North–South collaboration.

In 2013, the four institutions launched their 'Policy and Governance Studies in South Asia: Regional Masters and PhD Programme'. The programme aims to strengthen teaching and research capacity in public administration at all the universities involved. Staff at each institution are working together to develop and provide quality education and training researchers to conduct research of an international standard on public policy and governance.

The project has three major components. The first is educational and includes a PhD programme based at Tribhuvan University in Nepal as well as a masters programme based at the North South University in Bangladesh. The second is the promotion of evidence-based research. This is covered by post-doctoral fellowships that involve the conducting of research and surveys in topics such as accountability and trust in public institutions, post-conflict management, multi-level governance and politics, gender in governance and politics, administrative culture, and the role of NGOs in development. The third is about the publication and dissemination of research and knowledge with the aim of improving policy advocacy and extending academic networks and collaborations. The knowledge sharing and joint research, the publication of findings, and the exchange of staff and students are all significant aspects of the ongoing collaboration between these organisations.

Another important feature of their relationship was that the Southern institutions remained independent and assumed management and financial responsibilities. They are therefore empowered to make decisions and set priorities in relation to curriculum content, research topics, and the publication of research findings. The Northern partners acknowledge and value the fact that the local contexts and research priorities of the Southern institutions and countries take precedence, but also that *all* the partners, Northern and Southern, benefit from all the projects.

Between 2007 and 2015, a range of different outputs contributed to knowledge sharing between the institutions and the wider community. A few of the more significant ones are:

## **What we have learned**

In terms of the preparedness for collaboration, the Southern universities were clearly not as well equipped in terms of infrastructure and has been a drawback. Library and laboratory facilities, access to electronic journals, well-trained researchers and enumerators, as well as the availability and proper use of quantitative and qualitative software, are some of the hurdles that have had to be addressed. One of the Southern institutions' academic and research activities has also been seriously constrained by electricity load-shedding and poor internet access.

Conflict, war and natural calamities have also played a role in obstructing collaboration efforts. The civil wars in Sri Lanka and Nepal, as well as periods of political chaos and unrest in Bangladesh, posed serious threats to the conducting of quality research and data collection. The earthquake in Nepal in 2015 also disrupted academic and research activities.

The level of academic competence and knowledge related to research design and methodology was not at the same level among all the partners. It was a challenge to minimise these gaps and to design research instruments suited to comparative studies across the different countries. In addition, the theoretical and conceptual understandings of Southern academics about research methodology can differ from those of many Northern researchers. Research evidence in the South tends to mostly be derived from historical accounts, secondary sources and observation methods. Many Southern researchers are both less inclined and lack the skills to manage primary quantitative data. These differences can create a level of conceptual mismatch in collaborative research.

The delegation of management and financial responsibilities has been crucial in ensuring that the Southern partners can set their own priorities for educational, research and publication activities. The launching of the MPhil and Bachelor of Public Administration programmes at the Central Department of Public Administration at Tribhuvan University is a testimony to their confidence in running and managing academic activities. Similarly, the hosting of an international seminar on 'Public Sector Human Resource Management in South Asian Countries' at Tribhuvan University in 2016 was an example of a research-related activity initiated by the Southern partners.

## *Organisational culture and research context*

In relation to the scope for research, as well as the training necessary for knowledge production and dissemination, challenges prevail at both the individual and structural or institutional levels. In Southern institutions, few researchers have the skills and leverage to shift the system from description-based knowledge produced through essay writing to analysis-based knowledge produced through the systematic collection and interrogation of data. In some contexts, legal and/or bureaucratic barriers act to prevent the conducting of evidence-based research. At one of the Southern institutions, for example, one researcher was not permitted to conduct research for a PhD because of state-imposed regulatory and bureaucratic hurdles.

Although the Southern partners are from same geographical region and share much common history and culture, the differences between them are also quite significant. Nepal is one of the most diverse countries in the region in terms of ethnicity, language, caste and religion. Bangladesh is much more homogenous. These differences make comparative studies across the three countries more interesting, while also giving rise to some cultural and contextual difficulties.

Variations in administrative culture between North and South are also interesting. Administration in Southern institutions is strongly based on hierarchy. Symbolism and ritual are seen as important, and relationships between senior and junior academics can be described as following a kind of patron–client model. The working environment in Bergen is very different. The rule-based administrative culture that prevails in Southern institutions does not merge seamlessly with the results or outcomes-based approach of Northern colleagues.

Moreover, the Southern partners tend to take a parallel approach when trying to accommodate different preferences, that is, they pursue a range of interests and arguments simultaneously. Since official and private lives are quite often blurred, this culture of diverse interests being pursued in parallel characterises not only academic life, but almost all activity in the South. This tends to mean that attention and focus can be quite diffused, as several issues are attended to at the same time. In the North, tasks tend to be arranged according to priorities, and tackled in a more linear and sequential way, with time and resources allocated accordingly. Where Northern researchers might see the parallel approach as resulting in tasks being half done or taking too long to reach resolution, Southern researchers tend to see the linear approach as overly simplistic and dismissive of the many social implications and consequences of specific activities.

In addition, North–South collaborations provide a cultural meeting point. For example, a Northern partner will often delegate project rights and responsibilities to one or a few individuals, but the collective culture of the Southern partners makes it difficult for individuals to accept exclusive rights. Because international projects provide access to resources, they confer status and prestige, attract the attention of institutional leaders, and have the potential to eventually be a source of institutional power. Preventing professional jealousy among peers and colleagues is a real concern, and makes the careful inclusion and accommodation of diverse interests a priority for Southern partners. On the one hand, this ensures that inclusion of a wider range of academics develops their collective commitment and research interests, and eventually fosters collective capacity building. This benefits the whole institution. On the other hand, if inclusion becomes a goal in itself, it can prevent progress, thus undermining the building of new research capacity and blocking a wide range of other positive outcomes.

For the most part, representatives of all four institutions have decided research agendas consultatively, taking into consideration the research interests and expertise of faculty members and students at each organisation. We suspect, however, that this might be an exception rather than the rule in the majority of international research collaborations.

### *Dissemination and publication*

Many of the findings from research conducted as a result of the partnerships described here have been disseminated in the South through local and regional seminars, international conferences, and through publication in journals and books. A range of publications including *South Asian Journal of Policy and Governance* and student theses are available online.3

In general terms, the Northern partners have benefited from access to new knowledge generated through joint research and publications, but it is difficult to measure precisely how this knowledge has helped the Northern institutions. The outcome of research and innovation in the natural sciences, engineering and life sciences is universal and beneficial for all. Research in the social sciences seems more culture and context bound – its implications and usage are probably different in different contexts. Social science theories and knowledge developed in the North have filled Southern textbooks and literature for decades. It is still rare to see Southern knowledge and theories discussed in journal articles by Northern scholars or used in teaching and learning materials. The dissemination of new knowledge created through joint academic and research projects remains limited in the North, as journals and publishers remain focused on knowledge production from the North.

## **Conclusions**

Levels of preparedness in both Northern and Southern universities and higher education institutions are still not equal when it comes to facilitating partnerships in joint research programmes. Organisational culture and local context significantly influence the outcomes of joint research projects. Nevertheless, North South research collaborations offer both opportunities and challenges. Joint initiatives have the potential to gradually improve the preparedness of Southern and Northern institutions as they plan and carry out research together. The inclusion of cultural and contextual realities in research design has the potential to improve the quality of future research and research projects in the social sciences and help advance advocacy efforts related to evidence-based research. Our recommendations are as follows:

Strong levels of committment, rapport and understanding between and among Southern and Northern partners are crucial for the successful implementation of collaborative research projects. Existing collaborations are developing deep roots and unique features that need to be carried forward by future project leaders. Key resource persons will be important in ensuring that this occurs. In this regard, trust building, mutual respect and close rapport between key persons in the North and in the South are critical for the further advancement of knowledge and capacity building in both regions. Project management and financial responsibilities entrusted to the South are crucial in enhancing their confidence and faith in their own abilities to make sound independent decisions regarding academic, research and publication priorities. At the same time, the support of institutional leaders remains crucial for the success of any long-term collaboration.

## **Notes**

## **References**

Said, E (1978) *Orientalism*. New York: Pantheon

# CHAPTER 11

# Into the great wide open: Trends and tendencies in university collaboration for development

## *Jorun Nossum*

I am a development worker in the field of higher education and research. I look at competing and future priorities for development aid. In particular, I focus on the arguments for and against supporting higher education and research. In my work, numerous dilemmas arise in relation to priorities, principles and models of development co-operation. In this chapter, I present some stories, examples and experiences gathered from encounters with university partners and colleagues. I reflect on the recent history of Norwegian support to higher education and research, and build on some of the ideas put forward by Göran Hydén in his chapter.

Hydén's typology of academic collaboration, mostly funded by donors, captures much of what has happened in the past. His chapter also clearly illustrates the contrast between norms that have dominated the higher education sector and what I see as new ways of designing programmes and interventions that aim to support the sector. I explain why the Norwegian Programme for Capacity Development in Higher Education and Research for Development (NORHED), which I discuss in some detail, can be seen as an example of this new way of doing things.1

Individual academics, departments, faculties and universities support a multitude of academic networking arrangements across the North–South divide, in ways that tie in with their own strategic priorities. When donors enter this arena to offer support, they often choose to support 'capacity development' programmes. Here, too, a range of different approaches and models apply, depending on whether the programmes aim to strengthen individual, organisational and/or institutional capacities.

The notion of capacity development is widely used, and has been defined as

the process by which individuals, groups and organisations, institutions and countries develop, enhance and organise their systems, resources and knowledge; all reflected in their abilities, individually and collectively, to perform functions, solve problems and achieve objectives. (OECD 2006: 83)

Today, initiatives and programmes for capacity development in higher education and development-related research projects are included in the priorities of many Northern donors (see Adriansen et al. 2016). Donor support for the higher education sector often relies on the existence or establishment of partnerships between universities in the respective donor and recipient countries. This is certainly how support from Norway to the higher education and research sector has been channelled over the last few decades.

Support for university collaborations, *for the sake of* 'capacity development', takes various forms and, while there is some agreement on what research capacity is, there is little consensus on how it can be improved. Different pathways include supporting scholarships and infrastructure development, establishing centres of excellence, and training senior staff. Initiatives involving scholarly networks and/or academics in the diaspora in processes that aim to improve the quality of research and teaching offer another route with the same goal.

How 'capacity' is conceived often depends on the partners involved, and on the political contexts in which they work. For this reason, I offer a brief reflection on the broader contexts that shape contemporary ideas about capacity development.

## **Ideals, experience and knowledge: Essential or elitist?**

In 2000, the World Bank (in collaboration with UNESCO) published its report, *Higher Education in Developing Countries: Peril and Promise*, stating that: 'Higher Education is no longer a luxury: it is essential to national social and economic development'. Nevertheless, higher education and research in Africa is often still perceived as a luxury, an elitist project for a privileged few. Thus, what is seen as essential for wealthier societies is viewed as elitist for others.

A story often told about Norway is how investment in knowledge and technology was key to the development of the country's oil and gas sector. When oil was first discovered off the country's coast in the late 1950s, the technical expertise needed to exploit oil and gas deposits was lacking. State policies and priorities were then deliberately developed to ensure that, rather than simply selling fossil fuels to the big oil companies, Norway remained in the driving seat in terms of both ownership and knowledge. An independent oil industry gradually emerged, so one of the world's smaller countries has retained control over its own resources in a sector that is controlled almost everywhere else by huge multinationals.

This illustrates the value of knowledge in the development of natural resources of all kinds. Obtaining knowledge and competence can be about gaining the means to independently define, describe and develop. Why should this be different for poorer countries? Shouldn't every country have opportunities to harness their own natural resources and potentials, and to take ownership of their own development?

Africa's long history of exploitation also makes knowledge development crucial for social, cultural and political change. As the African Union's chairperson, Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma, stated in her address to the Higher Education Summit in Dakar in 2015: 'Africa needs to develop its own knowledge. Only then can we be completely free.' In my view, this kind of freedom involves countries owning their own histories, defining their own challenges and deploying their own resources and energy for their own development.

## **Higher education and development**

Since the mid 1990s, Norway's Ministry of Foreign Affairs (working with the country's Ministry of Education and Research) has considered support for higher education and research crucial for development. More recently, higher education and research have regained prominence in the wider development agenda. They are increasingly seen as key drivers of social and economic change, and therefore feature in the list of Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) adopted in 2015.2 In fact, many of the SDGs will be achievable only if the higher education and research sector contributes to their realisation, and is transformed by them. That is, curriculum content and research priorities must change, while postgraduate throughput rates must improve so that more people can contribute to knowledge production and innovation.

In 2016, NORAD commissioned a review of the literature on the relationship between higher education and development. The study underlined a key shift in understandings of the sector that occurred in the 1990s:

The 1990s signalled the start of a big change in the focus of external financing for education. The donors were adopting an economic lens through which they looked at the value of providing financial support to different education sub-sectors. This was influenced by a journal article by a leading World Bank staff member on rates of return to education (Psacharopoulos, 1985) which stated that the economic rates of return to primary education were much higher than those for higher education. (Ndaruhutse and Thompson 2016: 5)

Combined with a strong focus on primary education, and inspired by UNESCO's Jomtien Conference in 1990 where the declaration on Education for All was adopted, the World Bank's rate-of-return analysis influenced both the policies and the budget allocations of donors and governments in many parts of the world. For a decade or more, support for higher education and universities was drastically curtailed. Academics and university leaders have shared experiences and research findings on how cost-benefit thinking shaped education policies at a national level and donor interests internationally, shifting support towards primary education and neglecting higher education and research (see Mahmood Mamdani's chapter in this volume, for example).

This imbalance was also influenced by an atomistic view of education. Competing priorities overshadowed the understanding that the different educational levels depend on and relate to one another in complex ways. As Mamdani noted in a keynote speech made to NORHED's 2016 conference in Oslo:

In the process, the World Bank lost sight of the big picture: that primary, secondary and higher education are not isolated islands. Key to understanding the significance of each is the relations between them. If you ask the right questions, you will understand that the pivotal link in this three-way relationship is university education: Who will train teachers? Who will produce the curriculum, one that will respond to the needs of society, the demand for citizenship, the need to think of a future in a rapidly changing world?

In the literature review mentioned above, Ndaruhutse and Thompson (2016) described the broader dimensions and impacts of higher education beyond merely its capacity to stimulate economic growth and provide a decent return on investments. Quoting Oketch, McCowan and Schendel's rigorous 2014 report, Ndaruhutse and Thompson (2016: 9) noted that:

Tertiary education was found to have an important impact on development in low- and middle-income countries. Higher education provides measurable benefits to graduates, relating to health, gender equality and democracy. It contributes to the strengthening of institutions, and the forming of professionals who are vital for sectors such as education and health. Universities should be acknowledged and supported for the diverse range of functions they offer in addition to contributing directly to economic growth.

Mamdani also highlighted the role of universities in his 2016 speech, when he explained:

The basic challenge lies in our conception of the university. Let me begin with those who would like to think of the university as an economic unit.  You do not measure the returns on a power station by dividing the investment made with the numbers employed at the station. Or the returns on a road or a bridge by dividing the investment with numbers employed. The returns are also social, sometimes mainly social – say if the region in question had been economically marginal and socially isolated. That the university is not just an economic unit means that its returns are not just economic, quantitative, measurable – they are also social, qualitative, not always available for measurement … And, the returns are not just social, they are also in the realm of ideas, thought – ideological, philosophical, spiritual.

To sum up, priorities and funding for higher education and universities have shifted since the 1990s. The shifts have been influenced by different ways of thinking about universities and of measuring their impact on society and on other development goals and priorities. Some of these debates are ongoing, some should perhaps be over by now. However, as concluded by the Education Development Trust, 'Nowadays there is little doubt that research and tertiary education are main drivers of economic development' (Ndaruhutse and Thompson 2016: 15).

## **Norway's support for capacity building in higher education and research**

The three main programmes in this sector run by Norway and funded by the Norwegian Agency for Development Cooperation (NORAD) are the Norwegian Programme for Development, Research and Education (NUFU), the Programme for Masters Studies (NOMA), and the Norwegian Programme for Capacity Development in Higher Education and Research for Development (NORHED).

evidence-based policy and decision-making that enhances sustainable economic, social and environmental development. In 2016, NORAD was supporting 46 university partnerships through NORHED, which was involved in 60 universities in Africa, Asia and Latin America, and 12 in Norway. More than 300 academics are involved in these partnerships.

## **Capacity building and Norway's track record**

For those involved in NORHED, it is important that the overall objective of capacity development for the university sector is based on an understanding that capacity development is not a goal in itself, but a means towards a higher goal – outlined in the theory of change mentioned above. This theory of change was discussed in the first evaluation of the NORHED programme, albeit in more technical terms (see DPMG 2014). The evaluators questioned whether NORHED's theory of change was in line with the existing theory and literature on capacity development in higher education institutions. In analysing the presuppositions built into the NORHED programme, the evaluators took the following levels at which capacity development occurs as their point of departure:

Further, they considered how these different levels are related to one another, and how substantial and sustainable capacity can be developed. They argued that:

While capacity development efforts may sometimes focus on only one of these levels, in most cases they involve activity at multiple levels. For example, while building individual's knowledge and skills on a particular technical issue may be necessary to improve capacity, steps may also need to be taken to change how the wider organisation functions to enable these skills to be put into practice. Likewise, changes in the organisation may only be possible with shifts in the wider enabling environment. Sustainable capacity development often requires working simultaneously across these levels. (DPMG 2014)

As the evaluators suggested, when looking at capacity as a means to other ends (namely, societal development), all the social spaces within which academic work occurs – from individual capabilities to organisational support to socially 'enabling environments' – as well as factors influencing these spaces, have to be considered.

In higher education and research, it is reasonably easy to see results at the level of individuals. However, success at an institutional level is more difficult to measure, and even more so at a social level. The relationships between individuals and institutions – that is, how individuals affect institutions and how institutions shape individuals – is worth exploring further.

The evaluators concluded that the NORHED programme is largely in line with recommendations made in the existing literature, but that its work addresses the wider environment in which the universities operate to a limited extent. The authors of the report defined an 'enabling environment' as one that has adequate funding and supports good governance, as well as meritocratic, transparent and fair staffing practices (DPMG 2014: 24).

Scholarship programmes have long been a major part of global efforts to widen access to higher education and research (again, indicating a belief in developing capacity at the individual level). Numerous challenges and dilemmas related to such initiatives have been identified, including the brain-drain effect, and the relevance, usefulness and cost-effectiveness of non-localised education and qualifications. How investing in individuals might impact on the expansion of enabling environments, beyond enhancing an individual's own career and productivity, also merits further consideration.

A 2016 study of a large scholarship programme focusing on alumni of international fellowship programmes, is one example of research that is being done on individual versus institutional impacts (see Martel 2016). Martel's study looked at people who have accepted scholarships, and examined the effects of this on their communities and society at large. Martel concluded that programmes that target individuals can have significant multiplier effects for communities, societies, and organizations (Martel 2016).

This is highly relevant for NORHED, and other similar initiatives. Exploring the effects that individuals have on their workplaces, communities, and society at large might be one way to assess their impact, but we also want to know how the institutions individuals work for and with are shaped by their employees' conceptions of themselves and the value of their work. We want to know how individuals see their work as contributing to changing institutions.

The Norwegian Centre for International Cooperation in Education (SIU) conducted a tracer study in 2015. It's main objective was to assess whether, where and how masters graduates who had been supported by NOMA and NUFU were able to apply the skills they had acquired within the remit of national or regional workforces in the South. Their main finding was that:

Graduates from both the NOMA programme and the NUFU programme have been highly successful in obtaining employment within the first 12 months following graduation, and close to 70% of the NOMA graduates and approximately 90% of the NUFU graduates have obtained employment relevant to their masters degrees. The majority of the graduates are employed in their country or region of origin, with the public sector and higher education institutions being the sectors employing the highest share of graduates. (SIU 2015: 83)

Additional information on issues like this, which are related to capacity building at different levels, and to the impact that individuals have on the institutions they work for, will be crucial for informing future programmes and initiatives. In this respect, NORHED aims to be a laboratory from which new knowledge about what works in capacity development can emerge.

## **Questionable motives**

Models of capacity development differ depending on their motives – from imperialist to altruist – and they tend to foster either economic exploitation or knowledge production accordingly. Clearly, different development agendas create a variety of consequences for universities and research. Justifications of support for higher education and research vary from idealism to utilitarianism, from development aid to meeting the needs of business and industry. These justifications have also shifted over time. Historical mapping of how higher education and scholarships were used by the former colonial powers, as well as by the old and emerging superpowers, and by the Scandinavian countries, shows that support for universities has served many purposes.

The NORHED programme is attempting to walk a new path. For decades, the support offered to individuals through scholarships meant they had to travel to a foreign country and enrol in full-time study at one of their universities. The most talented or privileged (or both) few were selected and educated in the North. Many never returned. The differences between what they were offered abroad, and what they could return home to, were often overwhelming. Some returned home and succeeded as academics, or government and business leaders. Others returned, but did not succeed. Although they had obtained a good education from reputable universities, their knowledge was not what was needed in their countries; the solutions they offered or their ways of working were inappropriate. Often, this inability to fit in carried political overtones, particularly within the politics of knowledge, and the variety of factors related to 'not fitting in' again highlights the importance of understanding the institutional preconditions for capacity development; that is, how institutions and individuals interact.

Mahmood Mamdani was among the first group of 12 students who left to study abroad after Uganda achieved independence. Now director of Uganda's Makerere Institute for Social Research, he is also co-ordinating a NORHED programme in the region. When I interviewed him in Kampala in February 2015 about his own education experience, he observed: 'Half of us never returned. The other half of us became misfits within our societies.'

The issue of what we learn and how adaptable our knowledge is to where we work remains critically important. Internationalisation is now higher on the agenda than ever before, and stories about the brain drain abound: about the number of African doctors in Britain and France outnumbering doctors in the countries they come from; about graduates who went home full of hope and enthusiasm to find that their knowledge was irrelevant to their country's needs. Nevertheless, the extent to which internationalisation and education across borders have provided individuals with opportunities and experiences that they would never have had otherwise should not be underestimated.

Leben Moro at the University of Juba is a living example of this. He shared his story with me during an interview I had with him in Juba in November 2016. Leben was a refugee for much of his youth. In primary school, he fled from South Sudan and became a refugee in Uganda. From there he went to high school in Khartoum and then to university in Cairo. Eventually, this young man from a poor background in wartorn South Sudan, obtained a doctorate from Oxford University. With his certificate in hand, plenty of opportunities opened up for him, but he wanted to go home. He explained:

I have been given so many opportunities, in Cairo, England and Canada. I needed them, but I never felt that they needed me. There, I am only one of many, I wouldn't make much of a difference. But here in South Sudan they need me, here I can make a difference.

Moro is not unusual. Many African academics choose to stay at their own institutions, in their own countries, despite having fewer publication opportunities, poorly equipped laboratories and difficult environments in which to conduct critical or independent research. Many have returned, and continue to return, thus changing the institutions within which they work. Yet more returns are hoped for and expected. In his keynote speech at the African Higher Education Summit in Dakar in 2015, Kofi Annan expressed this fairly unambiguously, noting: 'Africa has exported some of its brightest minds. I am waiting for them to return.'

Moro returned, and so did Mamdani. Mamdani has had an impressive academic career in a number of countries. He shares the ideal of building strong academic communities in his homeland, Uganda. The number of people who have PhDs from the US and other Western countries is rising in Uganda and elsewhere in Africa, and the number of students studying abroad is higher than ever. Their experience is, however, still varied, both internationally and at home. We therefore have to question the value of current models promoting the 'internationalisation' of knowledge.

Adriansen et al. (2016) comprehensively addressed the debates around the politics and geography of knowledge. As they explain, although higher education institutions in the North look to expanding their recruitment in Africa and elsewhere, it is important to note that opportunities abroad will never be a solution for more than a few. And, as the experiences of Mamdani and others indicate, there is a growing realisation that study programmes in the South need to be developed to a level and quality that enables them to meet and engage with international standards. Externally obtained PhDs should be less of a necessity for individuals to achieve academic status. For all cultures, going abroad always has value, but this should not be forced on aspiring academics for lack of local alternatives. Nor should international study opportunities be available only to the well-resourced or wellconnected.

Establishing study programmes is thus not only about offering programmes for students, it is about developing the knowledge base within countries in ways that make knowledge emerge from, and remain connected with, local cultures, so that while study programmes take into account global debates, their priorities remain relevant and responsive to local needs.

To some extent, however, this creates a conflict of interest between the aid community and the education sector in the North. Supporting in-country education programmes makes perfect sense for donors that are inspired by principles of ownership, involvement and Southernbased initiatives. However, this does not help prestigious higher education institutions that are being encouraged to recruit the world's most talented students and draw them into their universities in accordance with their own internationalisation agendas. When universities become 'talent catching machines', and act primarily to enhance their own reputations and better serve the economies they sustain, it is difficult to see how aid money provided to facilitate student mobility is serving its real purpose. It should be noted, however, that many academics and higher education institutions have strongly altruistic motives for their engagement in international academic collaboration and student exchanges.

## **University partnerships: Focusing on institutions**

Norwegian programmes that aim to support the development of higher education and research in the South have gradually shifted their focus away from the Norwegian universities. Instead, they focus on supporting partner institutions in Africa, Asia or Latin America. A key issue is, however, not only about where education and research takes place. More importantly, the shift aims to influence who has the initiative, the power and the ideas to define curriculum content and shape joint research projects.

Much research and debate has focused on the inherent asymmetries in the partnership models that so far have prevented Southern universities from 'truly owning' the research that donor aid has supported (see Ishengoma, this volume). This 'non-ownership' is clearly undermining the sustainability of such research, and preventing the formation of independent academics who are empowered to shape curricula and research agendas.

The model of partnership that lies at the core of the NORHED programme means that each project has to build a collaborative partnership between higher education institutions in Norway and institutions in Africa, Asia and Latin America. In addition, regional collaboration within or between countries in the South is strongly encouraged. Wanni et al. (2010: 18) defined effective educational partnerships as:

A dynamic collaborative process between educational institutions that brings mutual though not necessarily symmetrical benefits to the parties engaged in the partnership. Partners share ownership of the projects. Their relationship is based on respect, trust, transparency and reciprocity. They understand each other's cultural and working environment. Decisions are taken jointly after real negotiations take place between the partners. Each partner is open and clear about what they are bringing to the partnership and what their expectations are from it. Successful partnerships tend to change and evolve over time. (quoted in Ndaruhutse and Thompson 2016: 8)

Indicators, such as improved curricula, increased publication rates and additional research projects are often used to establish the effectiveness of a higher education partnership. These are in line with the indicators developed for the NORHED programme. However, as highlighted in the study by Ndaruhutse and Thompson (2016: 8), we also need to be aware of the institutional contexts within which these numbers are produced:

Evidence exists that shows the effectiveness of partnerships through quantifiable outcomes. However, such evidence does not always reflect the complex, ongoing processes that underpin effective partnerships. The design and implementation of a partnership must be analysed to understand the conditions that support mutuality, ownership and sustainability.

In NOMA and NUFU's standard programme documents, the idea of equal partnership was set out as follows: 'The cooperation shall be based in the principle of equality between the partners and should be characterized by transparency at all levels.' In practice, however, the model proved to be asymmetrical, from the formal administrative requirements to limitations placed on programme scope and focus. As long as such projects are required to include a Norwegian partner, they will also be limited by what expertise the partner can offer or has an interest in developing. This can conflict with the principle that development projects should be based on the needs of the country being supported. An evaluation of NOMA and NUFU conducted in 2009 pointed to this when recommending stronger 'emphasis on demanddriven forms of collaboration, rather than the prevalent supply-driven nature of cooperation' (COWI AS 2009: 16).

Interestingly, this viewpoint was shared by both the Norwegian partners and the partner institutions in the South. According to the same NOMA/NUFU evaluation:

Although most partners in the South were reluctant to express sharp standpoints or requests for change, they nevertheless often gave the impression that the asymmetries in programmes were in need of revision. Some would like to see more decentralized administrative and decision-making structures, with much greater influence given to the partners in the South … Partners in the North generally agree with the view from the South that the existing asymmetries within the NOMA and NUFU programmes are counterproductive and run against overall objectives of creating capacities in the South which are sustainable and carried forward by competent local ownership. Further, it is recognized by Northern partners that the programmes should be demand driven, and less supply driven'. (COWI AS 2009: 47, 48)

The authors of the NOMA/NUFU evaluation point out that asymmetry is present from the outset of a project, in the sense that partnerships seldom originate from the South. This, of course, presents a challenge for any Southern partner who might wish to take real ownership, responsibility and sustainability:

Several Southern partners are concerned about the situation and feel that the established partnerships are too unsymmetrical and that this may be caused by lack of trust. There is little doubt that a further delegation of responsibility to partners in the South may help foster an important feeling of ownership. It should not be overlooked that a feeling of responsibility is among the strongest motivating factors for hard and efficient work. (COWI AS 2009: 40)

The NOMA/NUFU evaluation was quite vehement about the negative impacts that inbuilt asymmetry can have on programmes. Its authors noted that some donors, such as the Dutch and the Swedish, are already redesigning programmes to transfer greater responsibilities to the Southern partners. Their conclusion was that 'maintaining asymmetric relations North–South is counterproductive and a thing of the past' (COWI AS 2009: 65). They also pointed out that a stronger focus on demands and ownership in the South is also more in line with the intentions of the 2005 Paris Declaration on Aid Effectiveness and the subsequent Accra Agenda for Action of 2008.

At the same time, and despite the pervasiveness of asymmetric models, long-term relationships built on mutual respect and interest, and based on personal and professional relationships, do exist. Visitors to any of the key partner institutions with which Norwegian universities have worked over the years, inevitably gather multiple stories of profound encounters shaped by North–South collaborations that have engendered lasting mutual respect and ongoing friendships. The value and impact of these long-standing relations, and what they lead to in terms of knowledge, understanding and knowledge diplomacy, is worth exploring further.

Several Norwegian universities have been in partnerships with Ethiopian higher education institutions for decades. Based on their mutual interests in agriculture, drought mitigation, forestry, etc. strong relationships have been built. In January 2016, this collaboration celebrated its twenty-fifth anniversary. The Norwegian ambassador to Ethiopia summarised the partnership as follows:

Many are the Ethiopian scholars that have been trained in different universities in Norway – for them to return to Ethiopia and set their competence to the best use for the development of their country. This was the aim – and it has been a major success. And many are the professors and teachers and doctors from Norway that have contributed their expertise to the higher education sector in Ethiopia.

Clarifying why the Norwegian approach has been particularly appreciated, a former university vice-chancellor from Ethiopia said, 'The Norwegians came to collaborate. The others came to dominate.'

## *Gradual shifts*

Norway's approach to capacity development in higher education and research changed gradually throughout the years in which NOMA and NUFU operated. More drastic shifts coincided with the establishment of NORHED. One major change was a shift in the partnership model away from one in which the Norwegian university was the main agreement holder, received all the funding, and was responsible for programme delivery, budgeting, reporting and the publishing of results. The opposite now applies. The Southern university signs the agreement with NORAD and takes responsibility for the whole project, including any aspects that may happen in Norway.

Such shifts are in line with the key principles of the Paris Declaration on Aid Effectiveness, the Accra Agenda for Action and the Busan Partnership for Effective Development Co-operation. These changes add new dimensions that will be of interest to researchers in this field – new power structures, different negotiating positions and different dynamics. This is true not only of Southern and Norwegian partners, but also between partners within the same region. NORHED has a strong regional focus, with numerous programmes that involve partners in neighbouring countries, such as Ethiopa, South Sudan and Tanzania, or Nepal, Bangladesh and Pakistan. Discussions around the table when it comes to budget allocations, research agendas, curriculum development and supervision arrangements are numerous, and the potential for conflict is clear. Debates about whose initiatives and priorities are given weight, and who carries the responsibility for budgets, are key. In the arrangement between Uganda and South Sudan, for example, Uganda has so far taken the lead in projects that aim to strengthen capacity at universities in South Sudan.

In general, this shift has received positive responses, both within and beyond NORHED's partner institutions. As highlighted by Damtew Teferra (2016), a professor of higher education and a leader in training and development at the University of KwaZulu-Natal in South Africa:

It is refreshing that Norway has made a decision that explicitly and directly encourages Southern institutions to lead and manage joint international projects. It also encourages multiinstitutional and multi-country partnerships, South–South– North. This indeed is a progressive policy in the North–South partnerships in which the South is encouraged to lead the partnerships as well as utilize the majority of the joint resources.

Another professor I interviewed, who has been involved in North– South projects for years, commented: 'I was very sceptical to changing the main partner to a Southern-based university, but I have completely changed my mind. This is about time, and it goes in the right direction.'

Denmark took a new direction in their Building Stronger Universities programme, which ran from January 2014 to November 2016, and was worth DKK 100 million (approximately US\$12 million). In the programme, needs and priorities identified by Southern partners in terms of developing their institutional and research capacity were addressed by matching them with Danish universities, which had the skills and capacities to meet their needs in the areas identified. The latter were selected through a match-making process where consortia of Danish universities were invited to express interest in particular programmes.

Finland's Higher Education Institution adopted a similar approach in its Institutional Co-operation Instrument. To obtain support, all projects are designed to reflect each individual country's specific development aims, and must be based on the needs identified by the local higher education institutions.

With the focus on building stronger universities that are more adapted to local contexts and needs, there is another important dimension that must not be neglected. Universities in Africa are not only African; they are also international. Africa's universities are debating Africanisation versus universalism, which might be linked to demands for internationalisation versus demands for local relevance. In response to a question about this, Mamdani made the following comment, 'We cannot become chauvinist, and contribute to 'us and them'. Then we will have failed' (interview, February 2016).

## **Conflicting ideologies**

How will the ideas, motives and results of inter-university collaborations change when they are managed from the South? And how will small versus large countries, well-established universities versus smaller or less prestigious institutions, influence this process?

Meanwhile, Norwegian academics also face pressure from the global system and are often offered incentives that do not favour collaborations with universities in Africa, no matter how strong their partnerships with these institutions may be. Collaborations with institutions in low-income countries do not always have a place in the reward system, and tend to fit poorly within university strategies that focus on becoming bigger and better in terms of what the Western world sees as worthwhile knowledge. As one professor at the University of Bergen observed in an interview, 'The whole system is built on the idea that we should aim at partnering with the so-called strongest.' And the internationally accepted indicators for 'the strongest' seldom point towards any of the African countries. This means that researchers will struggle to achieve high visibility in prestigious journals or academic networks. In this context, it can be helpful to remember that these indicators seldom point towards Norway either. The kinds of knowledge that are emerging from NORHED's programmes and networks, therefore, need to find a place despite, and sometimes in contradiction to, the existing system's 'politics of knowledge'. Different attitudes and interests motivate these collaborations and, as emphasised in the SDGs communication across academic and spatial divides is crucial if humanity is to address the challenges we all face.

## **No low-hanging fruit**

Development co-operation initiatives have always needed to balance competing priorities: dealing with humanitarian crises versus the pressure to deliver longer-term economic development, for example. Too often, development workers are encouraged to grab the 'low-hanging fruit' and push ahead with what are seen as the 'sexy' projects. It is difficult to see university collaborations as either of those things. As noted by one of the participants at a NORAD seminar in 2013, 'Supporting higher education is not for sprinters, it is for stayers.' And, as Göran Hydén notes in his chapter in this book, 'Higher education is not for those who are fans of measuring results'. Of course, university collaboration is difficult to defend in the face of children dying, streams of refugees or sudden humanitarian crises. Against these competing priorities, higher education can only lose. The challenge, therefore, is to identify, document and communicate the real value of higher education and research. In so doing, to echo the words of Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma quoted at the start of this chapter, it is about time Africa developed its own knowledge, 'only then can Africa be completely free'.

## **Notes**

## **References**

# CHAPTER 12

## International co-operation and the democratisation of knowledge

*Tor Halvorsen*

During the 1990s, 'internationalisation' became a hot topic in higher education and research. By the early 2000s, internationalisation had become a separate research specialty and the primary focus of entire units or individual staff members in the administrative and finance offices at many universities. Meanwhile, multiple conferences and organisations promote internationalisation – the oldest being the International Association for Universities (IAU) (Halvorsen and Vale 2012). Judging from the findings of various higher education rating systems, institutions without clear internationalisation policies and strategies don't quite make the grade. Internationalisation strategies can also be interesting in that they tend to reflect the degree of organisational autonomy enjoyed by universities, but more importantly, what values the institution seeks to promote, and from what sectors of society, nationally and internationally, it obtains (or wishes to obtain) support.

In this chapter, I discuss internationalisation as practiced in four 'ideal types' of universities. Each type has emerged and risen to prominence at different points in the history of modern universities, but aspects of each one still strongly influence contemporary tertiary education models and understandings of the role of internationalisation. Before describing the four ideal types in more detail, I explore some of the cracks in the system, and highlight emerging alternatives.

## **Internationalisation and the paradox of competition**

University internationalisation strategies have always expressed the ambitions of university leaders. In the contemporary era, in particular, they indicate where institutional managers seek to co-operate with other institutions to sharpen their own organisation's competitive edge. Although these strategies are ostensibly about collaboration, paradoxically their collective effect has been to intensify the competition between institutions. Almost all universities are now seeking to co-operate with a relatively small group of supposedly 'superior' universities to help them improve their positions in the global institutional ranking system. Universities expect that by improving their reputations and rankings, they will attract better students, better professors and more rewarding research projects, as well as more funding and more public support, etc. What happens, however, is that all universities end up competing to collaborate with the most highly ranked institutions. This competition has tended to strengthen the links between some universities and exclude many others. Those left behind tend to be left out.

In addition, cross-institutional competition has led to an increase in standardisation, uniformity and disciplinary specialisation, as well as augmenting managerial control over research agendas. Universities caught up in this system seem highly unlikely to be able to step away from its competitive and standardising imperatives for long enough to fully comprehend, never mind begin to tackle, the challenges of climate change, poverty and rising inequality that are facing us all. Yet, if these issues remain unaddressed, they have the potential to wipe humanity off the face of the planet.

For academics, the strategic shift towards institutional competitiveness has had serious consequences. For most of us, *academic* competition – that is, the ability to compete academically, to propose innovative theories, offer fresh insights, or reveal unexplored aspects of established truths – is far more important than *institutional* competition. Academic competition is often inspired by novelty, and relies on imagination and creativity. In this sense, academic competition knows no borders and cannot be framed hierarchically, socially, spatially, politically or in terms of discipline. In fact, working with the 'not so good' can be as rewarding as working with the best.

Since the establishment of the first modern universities, many academics have sought collaboration wherever they could find like-minded colleagues. That is, in the past, research interests, not organisational strategy, inspired academic networking and motivated all manner of border crossings. In this context, motives for internationalisation were epistemological, and entirely unrelated to strategic alignment with externally imposed criteria for institutional achievement.

## **Neoliberalism and institutional competition**

The transformation of universities into strategically oriented competitive actors occurred in response to the general shift in society (including 'the public sector') towards making competition a primary instrument of governance (Berndt and Boeckler 2009). No matter which version of neoliberalism we choose to highlight (Schmidt and Thatcher 2013), competition has become key to the governance of individuals and organisations.

As competition becomes global and 'post-national', internationalisation is beginning to dissolve national systems of higher education and research. That is, the need for evaluation initially gave rise to appraisals of institutions within nation-states. From the 1990s, a global evaluation industry emerged. Spawning a whole industry of evaluation instruments, rankings systems turned into measures of organisational success, linking academic quality not to academic content but to the 'production' or output achieved by single universities, which are now expected to compete internationally for resources, students, professors, etc. In this process, the ways in which academic knowledge is valued, and how academics work, has changed radically (Matthies and Simon 2007; Power 1997, 2007). In essence, internationalisation now presupposes competition.

Ideally, universities should be driven by a search for knowledge (episteme), in which nothing is more relevant than a good theory. In reality, universities now face many pressing external demands that their work be 'relevant'. These are invariably linked to particular social interests that often legitimise their interventions as being of 'service to society'.

In addition, universities need administration; that is, they need to have, but not *be*, bureaucracies. However, when 'relevance' and 'management' combine to promote competition, as they have done in the neoliberal era, academic independence has been thoroughly undermined and epistemology completely undervalued. Essentially, universities are combining epistemology, relevance and management, such that many are turning into 'knowledge factories' (Bok 2004; Mamdani 2007).

## **Global challenges**

This focus on competition between higher education institutions and their managements has been a dangerously destructive phase in the evolution of universities. In my view, we are entering a new and fundamentally different period in which co-operation between *academics* is again becoming crucial. As we confront the stark and global challenges of our epoch, co-operation between academics seems far more likely to contribute to new knowledge production than the pursuits of institutional reputation-building (Halvorsen 2015).

The challenges facing humanity cannot be solved by the kinds of competitive strategies that are making 'internationalisation' into a tool for ramping up organisational reputations. Instead, co-operation across the globe, *including* with institutions that are rated poorly in existing ranking systems, holds the potential to open up and renew global knowledge systems. Rather than increasing standardisation and uniformity, we need to harness the creativity to which a multitude of experiences allows us access. We must acknowledge the possibility that many of the world's most creative academics might well be of little value in terms of organisational competition but of immense value to sparking our imagination. In the period we are now are entering, academic (as opposed to strategic) co-operation is likely to be crucial for our future.

The stark reality is that humanity must either transform or become extinct after experiencing catastrophe on an unprecedented scale. If we fail to transform, the consequences will initially be toughest for the least affluent countries and communities, but ultimately humans, along with millions of human and plant species, will be destroyed. The Sustainable Development Goals (UN 2015), the Paris Declaration on the Environment (UNFCC 2015), and several documents published by the International Labour Organization (ILO)1 reflect an acknowledge-ment of how this transformation might begin. Academics must now show their ability to drive big projects and respond to great challenges.

The many scientists who created the atomic bomb worked together for disastrous ends. However, precisely that scale and intensity of co-operation is now needed for more noble goals. In fact, the quality of such co-operation, designed and carried out according to epistemic (and therefore internally defined) criteria, is what all the instruments of grading, rating and ranking should be trying to measure. If this were the case, knowledge that emerges from collaborations with those who have the fewest resources and also face the most severe challenges could well become the most highly valued, even in those universities that are already high up in the rankings.

Let me hasten to add, however, that such co-operation is only likely to be successful if it occurs through networks of academic co-operation that systematically prioritise and reflect on the challenges facing humanity. Our situation demands that we restore the ways in which academics and academic knowledge used to be valued in the past. Linking relevance and epistemology to the global challenges we face has the potential to give rise to a kind of university governance that counters the current drive to reproduce the neoliberal order and endorse academic capitalism (Münch 2007, 2011).

## **Contemporary universities and their Western hegemonic histories**

Like all organisations, universities have institutionalised behaviours that operate according to norms, values and regulations devised within a variety of material constraints. Universities also change in relation to their interactions with their environments.

Just as there are different roads to modernity, there have been different kinds of universities within the broadly Western model that has spread globally. The varieties most widely adopted, often simultaneously within one institution, are:

Japan's copying of German technical education (after 1870), and the many Americans who attended German universities from the 1880s, until they themselves became the hegemonic force (see Brandser 2006), are just two examples of Germany's early influence.

Less edifying is how the colonial powers imposed poor replicas of their universities on their colonies, without providing the autonomy or the resources they needed to build up research-based knowledge driven by local needs and perceptions of their own burning issues. Activated by the global challenges facing the world, reactions to these bleak Western-imposed models are now helping to initiate a revisioning of knowledge and disciplinary fields.

Universities in the BRICS countries (Brazil, Russia, India, China and South Africa) are attempting to develop alternatives to Western hegemony, and seem to be achieving a degree of regional influence, even if their global impact remains limited (Halvorsen 2016). Their model of collaboration is state-driven in the sense that political processes have encouraged networking activities between particular centres of excellence creating a network of think-tanks. Although still embryonic, the BRICS initiative, and similar projects within its member countries, indicate the growth of a new type of internationalisation within the global knowledge community.

Of course, India's co-operation with the West and South extends well beyond the BRICS programme, and seems to be driven by academics and their knowledge interests, as much as by universities. Meanwhile, Tjomsland reminds us that, unlike in much of Europe, where the link between nation state and university tends to be dominant, 'the picture of the Arab regional landscape is quite the opposite of the European. It has as a point of departure a strong regional Arab identity that outweighed the national identities of the newly created Arab states at independence and has constituted a challenge to the legitimacy of Arab regimes ever since' (2005: 133).

A new hegemony may emerge from the new linkages and relationships that are being constructed across previous chasms and cleavages from parts of the world that are outside both BRICS and the OECD. It remains to be seen how such networks will respond to the global challenges, and if an alternative to Western hegemony really is in the making.

Given the extent of the global challenges we face, the question is, who or what should be the new external legitimising forces for universities, and for the changes they will have to implement to remain relevant? New types of alliances – particularly across the North–South divide, are not only sensible, but crucial. The question therefore remains: how do we analyse the relations between epistemology, relevance and organisational governance as the universities evolve and are transformed in space and time (Adriansen et al 2016)?3

## **Our multidisciplinary task**

The growth of subject disciplines and increasing specialisation have history on their side. Reason and rationality follows 'discipline', and discipline is needed to make academic progress within ever-growing fields of researched knowledge. The debate about relevance calls this into question, however, in that not all disciplines are necessarily relevant for the problems the world is facing at present. In addition, disciplinary boundaries might be preventing researchers from asking some of the most relevant questions – what falls between (or beyond) these boundaries might be key. Ideally, researchers should not be limited by specialist networks or blinded by successes in any narrow field of knowledge. The paradox is that, to succeed, such initiatives are often required to take the shape of a discipline. That is, to survive over time, and establish a knowledge field that is accessible to others, its disciplining into a discipline is a necessity.

The internationalisation of academic work has been important in raising awareness of the limits of specialisation. Similar disciplines can be constructed very differently depending on local circumstances, and meetings between international representatives of disciplines often quickly remind us that disciplines are social constructs that are held together as such, not by common theory, common methodologies or common 'topics', as is often argued when disciplines are defined (Eigen et al. 1988).

This understanding of disciplines as social constructs opens up space for multi-disciplinary work. This allows for explorations of how gaps between existing disciplines, and the creation of dialogue between disciplines, might help us cope with the challenges of our time. In the long run, this process will probably inspire entirely new disciplines, but the hope is that these arise in a context of stronger epistemic autonomy. In other words, the awareness that knowledge is socially constructed, and that economic and political interests frame all knowledge-creating processes, implies that academics should retain more control over knowledge creation with a new focus on cross-border co-operation and how it can work. Less competition and more imagination is necessary in North–South linkages if we are to deconstruct the old world of imperialist knowledge with its myopic worldview (see the debates around the Rhodes Must Fall movement in South Africa, for example).

How to balance academic specialisation with the views of other social actors about what is relevant, is a crucial issue. Global warming, poverty and social injustice seem impossible to address using the approaches humanity has relied on thus far. The question is, can we change fast enough?

There are some grounds for optimism. Universities do seem to be trying to prove their relevance. In addition, many universities are promoting internationalisation and cross-border networking, and some have already developed international associations and networks. The November 2016 conference of the International Association of Universities (IAU)4 was one important expression of this; gatherings of European universities that have taken place since the Southern African-Nordic Centre's conference in Namibia in December 2015 are another. Such associations have to come to the fore, not only as epistemic communities, but also as voices that are relevant to the pressing issues of our time. The question is, will this also lead to the transformation of the relations between knowledge and power that is necessary to make new knowledge relevant to the global challenges we face?

## **Learning from history**

In this section, I examine in a little more detail the history of different kinds of universities, or ideal types, whose 'existence' has had its time, is presently hegemonic, or is just emerging. The analysis is not linear, however. How the old and new are combined varies between regions and countries, and even within countries, thus creating differing motives for, and types of, collaboration between and within institutions. My hypothesis is that, due to the global challenges we are facing, epistemic identities that developed in the first period of modern universities are reappearing again and will become stronger in the phase we are entering now.

My analysis covers four periods as shown in Figure 12.1. The first is strongly related to the spread of the Prussian culture of learning from about 1810 to the late 1930s. It has been referred to as the Humboldtian university, or the *university of culture* (Readings 1996). After the Second World War, the *university of governance* emerged, characterised by an increase in numbers of students, disciplines and thus academics who became involved in the governing of society, state and the economy, as

**Figure 12.1:** A timeline of university development in the West

Timeline of the development of Western models of higher education

well as the universities themselves. At the same time, hegemony shifted from Germany to the US. In the third period, still led by US universities, but extended globally, the *university of* e*xcellence* (a characteristic first suggested by Readings 1996) became dominant. This type of university is best known for its contribution to academic capitalism, underwriting notions such as the 'knowledge economy' and 'innovation societies'. The fourth period, and the one we are just entering, still lacks a name. My suggestion is that we call it the *university of democracy*.

We are all, if not yet to an equal degree, at risk because of our inability to control modernity; all life, and human life in particular, is facing extinction. In my view, humanity will develop solutions to this only if we also deepen and strengthen democracy. Democracy can remind us that the situation we are in is a consequence of knowledge development of the most destructive kind, and to which universities have been central contributors. These include nuclear weapons, all the technologies that are destroying the environment, farming methods that ruin the soil and poison our food, technologies and trade agreements that ensure the continued economic exploitation of low- and middle-income countries, to name just a few.

As indicated, my periodisation focuses less on tracing chronological development and more on highlighting dominant traits and ideal types. In reality, most universities still try to live up to the ideals of the university of culture, while simultaneously acting as universities of excellence within the framework of academic capitalism. Similarly, a range of values, motivations and knowledge interests can act together to drive academic collaboration programmes.5 In general, however, the notion of 'relevance', in alliance with management values, has gained the upper hand in most academic institutions. This means that many university management teams not only promote certain disciplines above others (Higgins 2013), they also discern what new combinations of knowledge best serve the social division of labour, and can therefore be accepted as 'disciplines'.

We are entering a period that puts particular demands on academics. Environmental disaster, intertwined with the challenges of 'green' economic growth, dwindling job opportunities, as well as growing poverty and inequality, raises new kinds of knowledge demands. Academics have to reconsider who we want to collaborate with, for what purpose, and within what kinds of disciplinary – and more so – cross-disciplinary contexts. This implies a return to greater academic control of epistemic communities, more emphasis on originality of knowledge, and a far stronger influence on what academics consider relevant.

Journals such as *Ecological Economics*, a transdisciplinary journal of the International Society for Ecological Economics for 'non-commercial research and educational usage', is but one example of how new kinds of knowledge battles are emerging. Economics, as a discipline, is facing the emergence of de-growth theories, arguing for the prioritisation of human relations above market relations, a deepening of democracy, the preservation of ecosystems and a more equal distribution of wealth (Järvensivu 2013). Other disciplines and professions, from farming to pharmaceuticals, are facing similar kinds of questions about their commitment to basic social and political agendas.

Generally, new kinds of knowledge networks are emerging, and the global challenges are transforming how academics choose (or, equally importantly, choose not) to collaborate. In an analysis of the growth of international science organisations in the twentieth century, Schofer (1999) not only described their rapid growth from the 1950s, but also the parallel and (again) exponential growth of socially committed science organisations. The escalation has been particularly marked since the era of the 'university of excellence' began, as academics have tried to counter the hegemonic transition to academic capitalism. The subsequent growth of NGOs dedicated to environmental issues shows that much of this commitment is being carried forward into the coming period (Fink et al. 1996).

## *The university of democracy*

So let me start with the present. It seems we are at the beginning of a period of radical change with far-reaching consequences for all social institutions, including universities. We must therefore ask anew, why should academics collaborate and what for?

In geological time, the period we are in has been termed the Anthropocene: acknowledging that virtually all of nature is now socialised (affected by human activity), and that this will have a lasting effect on the earth, even after humans have left it for good. Perhaps more important than this renaming of our age, is the acceptance, as expressed in the 2015 Paris Declaration on Climate Change, that humans are reaching the limits of our existence on earth if we do not end our carbon dependency by or before 2050 (UNFCC 2015).

While some city dwellers might have difficulty remembering this, nature has the upper hand. We cannot geo-engineer ourselves out of that fact. We need planning and co-ordination, as well as shared (therefore democratic and binding) decision-making to regulate the world's economic and political actors, so that we harness them into bringing about change. To put it in philosophical terms, the whole is bigger than the parts and, if left unregulated, the parts add up to a self-destructive whole. The need for planning and regulation at the post-national level therefore requires that we revitalise questions of how to expand democracy beyond the level of the nation-state, and also how to establish democracy in countries with anti-democratic regimes.

The characteristic feature of the new period, to which universities will have to justify their existence and adjust their institutional values, is the strengthening of democracy such that it becomes a force that enables humanity to transition beyond carbon-dependent economies and infrastructure. Democracy is key because the planning and centralisation of power that will be required to facilitate rapid change will have to be democratically delegated so that entrenched social and economic inequalities do not incite individuals and communities to scupper or sabotage change and jeopardise our future. Universities and academics will therefore have to contribute to producing the knowledge required for a global shift in energy use *and* the widening of democratic influence so that this shift occurs globally. Without the confluence of these two kinds of knowledge, the effects of climate change will be catastrophic for all.

The 2015 Paris Agreement contains a strong appeal to universities to collaborate globally, rather than be part of the competition driven by global capital that generally escalates rather than addresses global problems. By aligning themselves with democratic values and practices, universities could help to counter the values of global capitalism. That is, universities could become the counter-movement that social scientist Wolfgang Streeck was searching for, but could not see, when he asked what actors and institutions will secure the collective good of liveable environment in a world of competitive production and consumption. Quoting Canadian political scientist CB Macpherson, Streeck (2014: 52) argued that capitalism will undermine itself from within, but asked, how the enormous collective resources required for preventing and repairing environmental damage will ever be mobilised in societies governed by 'possessive individualism'.

'Possessive individualism' is precisely what universities of excellence have promoted and shaped through their focus on human-resource (and human-capital) development. The challenges we face as we exit this era seem to demand that the academic world makes its most abrupt shift since Humboldt's era. The character and type of future academic collaborations and networks must be determined by how they address the issues surrounding global warming. As Naomi Klein (2015) put it: 'this changes everything', including who should decide what knowledge is valuable and relevant.

## *The university of excellence*

Neoliberalism, of which universities of excellence are a by-product, is primarily a political project of the Western world, that challenges basic ideas about liberty, solidarity, justice, individuality and the role of academia (Boldizzoni 2013; Fourcade-Gourinchas and Babb 2002; Mjøset 2011; Peck 2008). From this project, flows a particular understanding of what knowledge is, how to create it and how it should be valued.

The university of excellence is a product of, and is therefore tailored to, the neoliberal policies of the OECD, but it does, of course, also hold sway outside the OECD's member states, and particularly in the post-colonial countries, both in terms of practice and as a political-rhetorical tool of governance. As Streeck (2014) argued, in this era, universities have been transformed from critical institutions into tools of the global economy. They have thus, paradoxically, also been deprived of the reflective role necessary for the reproduction of capitalism itself. Even 'human capital' needs creativity to evolve!

To different degrees, the university of excellence tends to detach itself from the cultural context of the nation-state or region in which it is located. However, 'excellence' as a concept or category is basically empty; it gains meaning only through actors who operationalise it and thus determine what it means. Under neoliberalism, a hegemony related to the valuation of knowledge has been established globally among actors whose interests in university-based knowledge were shaped by how knowledge can be used in the production of profits, to service the elites, and to legitimise their hegemonic project. Among others, Mamdani (2007) has clearly described the particular consequences of this for the South. In many ways, the post-colonial world has become a laboratory for World Bank-led policy experiments related to education and research. Perhaps in response to this, actors in this part of the world have been among the first to develop alternative ideas about knowledge.

To be against 'excellence' is obviously absurd. However, processes of democratic deliberation about what knowledge is useful for social (nation-state) development, and what knowledge is good for communities that are seeking to make democracy work, also seem insane from within a neoliberal framework. Instead, excellence is bureaucratically selected. Bureaucracies grew out of the 'politics of large numbers' (Desrosières 2007) that constitute modern nation-states and their related economies (Angermüller 2010). However, under neoliberalism, they have been transformed from agencies that collect statistics to measure progress in a nation-state into systems that encourage competition for resources between individuals and institutions across and beyond national systems.

A prominent example is the OECD's Pisa test, which measures the knowledge of 15-year-olds all over the world and draws conclusions about the quality of schooling they have had. A network of bureaucrats and universities are now using similar kinds of comparisons for higher education institutions and for the implementation of the SDGs.6 In effect, a neo-numeriocracy is creating the means for measuring academic work in terms of 'multi-governance interactions', thus giving the final word to post-national organisations such as the OECD (Angermüller 2010).7

This meant that, in 1992, the founder of the Institute for Scientific Information (ISI), Eugene Garfield, a pioneer and central actor in the neo-numeriocracy, could sell the ISI to Thomson Reuters, a multinational media company that has since made billions of dollars from exploiting academic texts by selling them across several other databases. Academics who produced what should be public knowledge have thus had their works dissected and sold off for profit. Similarly, increasing numbers of academic institutions are governed by number crunchers, who apply the rules of supply and demand, as informed by institutional ratings, to help them determine the relative importance of research agendas and the size of budget allocations.

The academic world that initially produced the data (and the categories necessary for statistical data collection) to help improve the governance of specific sectors of the nation-state, is now itself governed by statistics calculated by global businesses that measure their competitive abilities across borders. According to Angermüller (2010: 178), an annual subscription to the Science and Social Science Citation Indexes (SCI and SSCI) cost US\$700 in 2009. The information technology that made this possible soon made ratings and rankings into hotter topics than the research being rated, while on sites such as Google Scholar, the 'number of hits' is often spuriously correlated with academic merit.

This kind of 'governance by numbers' is complemented by the World Trade Organization's General Agreement on Trade in Services, which aims to promote trade in services, including tertiary education. The agreement is constructed to drive a continual expansion of trade such that public universities either have to privatise or act as if they can compete with private institutions. Whatever crosses borders – from professionals to students, knowledge or other tangibles – count as an exchange of educational services, and have to have a market-related price. Ratings and citation indexes, etc. are in place to confer honour and status on universities and the prices of educational services are determined by the system.

The push to make higher education part of a service economy, and universities into marketplaces for the sale of educational services, has escalated rapidly. In relation to teaching students (as customers), standardised curricula using teaching technologies owned by big media firms are growing. University management experts, and techniques that promise improved rankings, ratings and citation indices, are all beginning to circulate according to a market value, while branding agencies target universities promising to promote their images as knowledge providers in a competitive market. The academic 'economy of honour' has thus been transformed into a monetary economy, on which bureaucratised universities have become dependent.

In terms of research, the transformation is primarily linked to the growing ownership of knowledge that the patent system and the Trade-Related Aspects of Intellectual Property Rights (TRIPS) Agreement allows.8 As Braithwaite and Drahos (2000: 75) argued, 'intellectual property is perhaps our most spectacular example of economic coercion … What is clear is that global property rights set strong limits on a state's capacity to define territorial property rights in ways that enhance national welfare'. Altogether, the globalisation of intellectual property rights is fraught with dangers for citizens and state sovereignty (animal patents being just one example of the moral-sovereignty costs inherent in the system). Braithwaite and Drahos did not explicitly explore the impact of this system of global ownership on the universities, but implicit in their argument is the notion that university-developed knowledge has been drawn into the battle in support of capitalist hegemony.9

Within this paradigm, the role of universities is to develop competitive 'human capital', while the notion of 'intellectual property' presupposes that prosperity for individuals and organisations involves transforming knowledge into assets that support economic growth and create financial rewards.

As Gorz (2003) pointed out, the so-called knowledge economy is characterised by a conflict between the total instrumentalisation of 'human capital' and the need to make space for human creativity.10 Human creativity cannot be *directed* by managerial concerns. Ideas of how to work on your 'personal brand', or contribute to intellectual property by putting 'human capital' to work might have evolved from notions of individual freedom, but they have turned into a straitjacket, leading to a growing need for psychological services and the emergence of quasi-psychological services such as 'life-coaching' (Honneth 2012). Within this framework, education is little more than a tool for the formation of a 'subject's' employability. Being self-employed, or making strategic educational and work choices, becomes 'an ideal', in line with what is seen as the ideal future for this neoliberal epoch: the end of wage-related labour and growing numbers of self-employed contractors whose individual identity is subsumed into the category of human capital (Gorz 2003: 27).

In a university of culture, knowledge is not a 'product' but something indefinable, its value indeterminable as part of culture and the public commons. The university of culture promoted the value of creativity for the sake of truth-telling (within the elitist limits of its time). The advent of digital data storage and cyberspace has undermined this aspect of knowledge. Knowledge is everywhere and potentially accessible to anyone who seeks it out. However, to have value in the contemporary market economy, some knowledge has to be limited to create a demand for knowledge services (King, n.d.).11 The university of excellence therefore became concerned with knowledge as a production value.

With the help of TRIPS, some of the world's wealthiest capitalists made fortunes by creating artificial markets. The individuals involved are lauded as examples of how entrepreneurship leads to success. But at the same time, hackers – the antiheroes of our time – have shown that networking for problem-solving where profit motives and 'human-capital profiling' are not present, often produces superior knowledge and solutions. In cyberspace, the hackers' collective efforts are still ahead – something democrats should be thankful for. At the same time, however, the growth of commissioned research as a source of income for universities is transforming what was once a public research space into a sphere in which private wheeling and dealing is increasingly possible.

Neoliberalism supports this transformation, because it links the university of excellence to 'the politics of large numbers', and this, in turn, is linked to how knowledge is valued in the market economy. Judgement about what knowledge is valuable is shifted to knowledge users, and linked to external criteria for relevance. Users communicate their needs through the neo-numeriocracy, and particularly through knowledge brokers such as ratings agencies and research councils. The criteria for excellence are thus created by a mix of bureaucratic interests, user interests and academic interests, in which the academy and epistemology has the weakest voice.

The aim of research collaboration in this context is primarily to promote competitiveness within and between units of excellence. Their central question is, 'what's in it for us?'

## *The university of governance*

The inauguration of the university of governance was the final shift away from 'knowledge for the sake of enlightenment' towards 'knowledge for society'. The arrangement of universities into faculties was, of course, linked to Kant and the Enlightenment. The belief was that experts with specialist skills would make more effective interventions in governing society. The further growth of disciplines and specialisations underlined the role of universities in training elites to take up positions in public and private governance.

What is now a widely accepted belief in the value of rationality in the form of 'knowledge for development' came to the fore from the end of the Second World War and remained dominant until the early 1980s. In this period, public and private bureaucracies (as well as academic services – the so-called liberal professions) co-evolved with the massification of higher education within a framework of governance and organisation. The shift in the West from elite to mass (and even universal) access to tertiary education also transformed the universities and how those educated in them became linked to the world of work; the term 'knowledge worker' entered common usage.