Questions have arisen about a Ministry of Education decree not to accept further students at Cairo's main calligraphy schools, writes Sarah Eissa A 15-year-old student can be seen sitting next to a 70-year-old one and a farmer next to a doctor in a quiet room furnished with wooden benches and tables. A teacher is bending over to correct a student's calligraphy, as he concentrates on his writing. This is a group of people coming from different educational backgrounds, social classes and age groups. What brings them together is their common love of the Arabic language and calligraphy. According to Abdel-Hamid Mustafa, technical supervisor of the Al-Saedia Calligraphy School in Cairo, students at the school must have at least a preparatory certificate, but there is no age limitation on joining the school. Many students repeatedly apply for a place, but only approximately 200 are admitted after passing a rigorous exam. "We are the only country in the world that has schools and certificates in calligraphy that are internationally accredited," Mustafa says. Egypt also exports calligraphers to the world, and it has a track record going back almost 100 years in protecting the Arab heritage and identity through calligraphy. However, to Mustafa's surprise a fax last August from the General Directorate of Basic Education at the Ministry of Education instructed the school not to accept any further teachers or students "until further instructions" were received. "We tried to inquire and meet the minister more than once, but we have not been able to do so. We want to know what these 'further instructions' might be," Mustafa said. In particular, the school authorities do not know if the ministry intends to close the school, or whether it just wants to change the system. "Government and opposition newspapers have asked the minister for an explanation, but so far we have not received one." "Has a decision been taken without asking the opinion of people working in the field, or asking them what they are willing to do? As school supervisor, I don't know what to say to students when they ask when they can apply," Mustafa said. Abdu El-Gamal, a calligrapher teaching in the school, said that calligraphy was one of the fine arts and that it was used for writing the Quran . El-Gamal does not receive a salary for teaching, saying that "I found someone in the school who taught me, so I have a debt to pay back. And besides, it is zakkah for what God has taught us." The school has few problems, aside from the new ban on accepting new students, El-Gamal said. He even praised the ministry's past relationship with the school, explaining that it had printed new textbooks for students. According to Nasser El-Shami, 54, who holds a Bachelors degree in chemistry and works as a jeweller, he joined the school to improve his jewellery making. "I use calligraphy and decoration in my work, and I am now at diploma level. What I have learned so far has already enormously benefited me, and I am determined to continue." El-Shami criticised the calligraphy used on banners today, even on computer- designed ones. "It is not properly done," he said. "Handwritten calligraphy is of a higher artistic standard and is a lot better than anything done on a computer." Fellow student Ali Mahmoud, 32, an Arabic teacher, received his first diploma in calligraphy in the Menoufiya governorate, but went on to get a specialised diploma in Cairo. The teachers are better in Cairo, Mahmoud said, and he added that in his opinion there should be an Academy for Arabic Calligraphy, or something similar, in order to protect and promote it. Mahmoud will not benefit economically from the classes, but he is keen to learn more all the same. "I'm learning something that I like," he said. "I feel the beauty and energy inside me, and I am also learning to draw by co- existing with the letters." Mustafa recalls a time when calligraphy flourished in Egypt more than it does today. In 1922, king Fouad wanted to make a copy of the Quran, as was the norm for rulers at the time. However, there "were no well-known calligraphers, or official institutions for teaching calligraphy, in Egypt at the time. As a result, the king brought the Turkish calligrapher Sheikh Abdel-Aziz Al-Refaai to Egypt to make a copy of the Quran, and it is one of the most important copies ever made in the naskh script," Mustafa says. Al-Refaai made his copy of the Quran in eight months, and then spent a further six months embellishing it and adding the correct tashkeel (pronunciation marks). He also suggested establishing a school for calligraphy in Egypt, something which was done with the setting up of the Al-Khalil Agha School some years later. Students at this school studied for four years, and then were presented with a certificate signed by the king on passing their exams. Today, the Al-Khalil Agha School is the largest school of calligraphy in the Middle East, according to Aws El-Ansari, a professor at the Institute of Arabic Research and Studies and technical supervisor at the Al-Khalil Agha School. The period of king Fouad's rule was a kind of golden age for calligraphy, El-Ansari says, not only because of the government's support for this art form, but also because of the appearance of such leading thinkers as Taha Hussein and Abbas El-Aqqad. Further calligraphy schools were later established, but since the 1952 Revolution these have been transferred among many different government departments. Currently, the country's calligraphy schools are under the supervision of a department of the Ministry of Education and the General Directorate for Primary Education. El-Ansari believes that they should be supervised by an independent department. Mustafa agrees, saying that "we are teaching a fine art, and the Ministry of Higher Education should be responsible for it." Moreover, calligraphy is part of Islam and an important aspect of religion. "The fine arts, home economics, agriculture, technical education, and, recently, literacy, all have independent departments. Why doesn't calligraphy?" "Language is the container of civilisation," El-Ansari added, criticising the standard of handwriting of many of today's schoolteachers. "None of today's teachers have acceptable handwriting, except those from the older generations. This contrasts with someone like Ahmed Shafiq Pasha, who even wrote his diaries like a professional calligrapher: it was considered normal to do so at the time." Egyptians started to lose interest in calligraphy in the second half of the last century, he says, with the result that though many "Arabic teachers had good writing, they weren't calligraphers, and so were unable to correct others. If teachers have good handwriting, then students will too." People in the past understood better that calligraphy was an independent art, as well as something that supports the language. Today, many foreigners enrol in Egyptian calligraphy schools, further enhancing their reputation. "These foreign students act as our ambassadors abroad," El-Ansari says. "They could act as a kind of lobby group for Egypt. You don't pay them money, instead you teach them, and in return they give you soft power." Despite the hard conditions they work in, all the teachers at the Al-Saedia School show interest in improving general standards of calligraphy and keeping the art alive. The teachers do not receive regular salaries, receiving compensation for each class instead, though this is poorly paid at LE2, rising to LE5 for technical teachers. The teachers in the school are there because of their love for Arabic calligraphy, considering their jobs as a way of helping to protect this form of heritage. Mustafa himself has a Bachelors degree in fine arts, and five years ago he looked into ways of introducing other forms of study into the study of calligraphy. Workshops were set up for engraving on marble, or writing on wood or textiles. "We also reached out to students studying information technology and started to design computer fonts. We have had exhibitions, and this made the ministry aware of the importance of the school and its curriculum. When the ministry wanted to produce new textbooks, we presented drafts, many of which were accepted. While the school has traditionally been free, when the new books appeared a fee of LE60 was introduced to pay for them." In talking about the styles of Arabic script, Mustafa explains that traditionally there have been six, with kuffi being the mother of all fonts, to which can be added naskh, ruqaa, thulth, farsi and diwani. The styles are like trees, El-Ansari says, consisting of upper parts and roots. The ruqaa and naskh scripts were developed into fonts that could be used for printing in king Fouad's time, since, El-Ansari says, those who had studied abroad wanted Arabic fonts that looked like the print used by foreigners. Egypt has always led the Arab world in Arabic calligraphy, he adds, investing a great deal in promoting the calligrapher's art and in employing it in various fields. He would like to make an appeal to "all officials and the political leadership: don't abandon the teaching of calligraphy, since this will mean abandoning part of our Arab identity." Should the teaching of calligraphy be lost, there will be no one left who can properly copy the Quran. In order to write Arabic properly, budding calligraphers need to be organised and patient; by learning calligraphy in a structured way, they also acquire these qualities. While Al-Ahram Weekly was not able to obtain a comprehensive interview from the Ministry of Education in response to such concerns, Inas Mohamed Labib, general director of primary education at the ministry, did consent to answer questions in the presence of General Abdel-Moneim Moawad, the ministry's director of public relations. In the interview, Labib said that the ministry had no intention of closing the calligraphy schools. Instead, the intention behind the recent decree was to improve standards. "A committee has been set up to look into conditions at the schools," she said, adding that their lack of a proper curriculum had now been remedied. However, workers in the field also have their own ideas about what needs to be done. Teachers should receive better salaries, for instance, and experienced supervisors put in place to raise standards. In Mustafa's view, the best people to say "what the school needs are those who work in it and are in contact with the students." He is optimistic, though, and determined to keep the flame burning. For his part, Mahmoud feels frustrated, knowing that the school will not now accept any new students. "I like coming to the school and learning what I still don't know," he said. He believes that the reforms may end up by closing the school. If the school is closed, this will mean "killing calligraphy".
