A sociologist here has established a reputation that reaches far beyond
the walls of T’bilisi State University, where she has been teaching since 1964. Natela Donadze is not only known for her scholarship. She is known for refusing to accept bribes.
“Sometimes it is a difficult, awkward situation for me,” she says, “because in Georgian society we have very tight connections. But I feel no pressure, because everyone knows what kind of person I am. I have my principles, and my main principle is the knowledge of students, and knowledge in general.”
That Ms. Donadze is, essentially, famous for not taking bribes says something about the university where she works, the first university in the Caucasus, which is also known as the White Temple. Her fame also says something about Georgian higher education. Except for Ms. Donadze and a few other lonely stalwarts, everything and everyone appear to be for sale: admissions, courses, grades, diplomas -- you name it. The corruption has been the topic of investigations, white papers, and even parliamentary decrees. But it is still there, and seemingly a larger force than anyone and anything that endeavors to eliminate it.
“T’bilisi State University is a very nice building. You’ll like it,” says Giorgi Meladze, a recent graduate of the university’s law department. “But nobody cares what happens inside the White Temple ... because, now, knowledge is worthless. It’s all about having a diploma, not what you know.”
When Georgia was part of the Soviet Union, only a sixth of the population was permitted to pursue higher education. But since independence in 1991, parents have sought to provide their children with that which they could not obtain before, and that has spawned a market of 26 public and 214 private institutions of higher learning.
Now, although this impoverished, war-torn country of five million people has some 240 institutions of higher education, the system is effectively in ruins because of corruption.
Wasted Generation
The Open Society-Georgia Foundation, part of an international philanthropic network supported by George Soros, the investor, to promote democratic values, assisted the Council of Europe and Georgian officials last year in drafting a white paper, which concluded that “the situation is so severe that there is a danger that Georgia is wasting a whole generation of human capital.” The Georgian parliament praised the essential elements of the white paper in a decree passed last March. The decree is a political precursor of legislation that would actually attack the problem.
“The biggest aspect of corruption is connected to universities,” says Michael Chachkhunashvili, chairman of the executive board of the Open Society-Georgia Foundation. “Higher education doesn’t give anyone anything -- not the students, not the lecturers.”
The country has tried to cleanse itself in the past. President Eduard Shevardnadze likened the nation’s corruption to a “malignant tumor” in 2000. The president’s initiative, a task force, subsequently failed. It was, simply, smothered by that which it was formed to overcome. “The biggest problem is our mentality more so than the system of education,” says Misha Darehiashvili, a part-time instructor of tourism management at T’bilisi State and an official in the political-military department of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Corruption, he says, is simply viewed as normal by the populace.
“Perhaps it’s not a Georgian mentality, but a Soviet mentality,” says Nino Svanadze, who is pursuing a master’s degree at the well-regarded Georgian Institute of Public Affairs, which trains government leaders and journalists and is supported by the U.S. State Department.
The lack of funds for higher education also creates a climate for corruption. Government spending on higher education was only 0.5 percent of the federal budget in 2001. Undergraduate students eligible for scholarships received $160 -- which the government believes is the cost of a year of education.
Ms. Donadze, the lecturer who refuses bribes, earns $23 per month. With overtime and extra work, it rounds out to about $64. “To live honestly on such a salary, for some people, is impossible. That’s how some people justify the corruption in Georgia,” she says.
But for her, poverty is no justification. “To me, wealth is nothing in relation to morality. When you feel the positive attitude, the love from your students, you feel stronger. I think it is a great offense to be [offered] money.”
Poor high schools also produce students who leave poorly prepared for college. Therefore, parents must hire private tutors to ensure that their children pass the entrance exams.
The catch is that the most popular tutors are professors who also sit on the committees that decide who is admitted to college, and who is refused. The examinations are oral. Grading criteria are wholly subjective. The “tutoring fees” wind up being de facto bribes.
“A person who hasn’t learned over 17 years can’t learn what he should have learned in just six months, so these private lessons are not enough. Still, tutors promise a student a high score, and to be guaranteed a high mark, you have to pay,” says Eduard Kodua, chairman of the sociology department at T’bilisi State.
Entrance exams generally cover four subjects. Tutors charge between $1,365 and $2,275 per subject. That means parents could pay more than $9,000 to get a child into college. In prestigious departments such as law, economics, and international relations, the cost in indirect bribes often reaches $15,000, Mr. Kodua says. Such sums are incredibly high in a country where the average monthly salary is about $14.
“There is not one institute that is free of corruption,” Mr. Kodua says.
Expensive Department
Tamuna Karosanidze says she was denied admission into the department of public administration at Georgian Technical University because the institution said her knowledge of English was insufficient. The assessment was surprising because she had graduated from a high school in North Carolina and speaks excellent English.
She says a friend of her mother’s later arranged to file a written appeal with the dean of the department, who allegedly replied that admission would cost $500, or $200 more than the published cost of an appeal -- $300. Ms. Karosanidze paid the money. The family friend, a university employee, subsequently amended the paperwork -- without the dean’s knowledge -- to waive the $300 cost of the appeal.
Thus, Ms. Karosanidze paid $200 to enroll in a prestigious department that numerous sources say often costs between $10,000 and $15,000 in direct and indirect bribes. “I don’t know of any student who was admitted without paying,” she says.
Last year college students here in the capital city distributed fliers asking for anonymous evaluations of professors. Local media outlets reported the results. “There are very good professors, and, unfortunately, there are others who take bribes or force you to buy their books or give out a price list for grades for exams. We were able to name names ... to say who’s doing what,” says Vakho Godziashvili, a graduate student in political science at T’bilisi State.
If higher education stands a chance at recovery, education experts insist, that change must flow from students, parents, and adjunct professors. “Why should change have to come from the top? It’s useless to begin some change unless there is support from ... the bottom,” says George Sharvashidze, the leader of the panel that produced the white paper on higher education.
Mr. Chachkhunashvili of the Open Society-Georgia Foundation adds that reforms should include an accreditation system, an entrance exam similar to the SAT, increases in financing, and reductions in class size.
The first order of business, he says, is passage of a law being drafted from the parliamentary decree last spring, that would codify the recommendations of the white paper. It requires an unlikely 180 out of 235 votes.
“I’m pessimistic,” says Natia Japaridze, director of the Council of Europe field office here. “There is no higher education in Georgia other than isles of places and people who really care.”
http://chronicle.com Section: International Page: A34
