Days before becoming Home Secretary in April, the then Communities Secretary Sajid Javid visited Yesodey Hatorah Senior Girls School.
It takes just a couple of minutes for any visitor to see this is a great school. The building is stunning, with high-spec IT suites, science labs and music facilities. The school’s best ambassadors are the confident, respectful, articulate pupils who score A* at GCSE across 14 subjects.
Mr Javid asked a group of pupils whether they had any experience of antisemitism. A bright-eyed Year 11 raised her hand.
“When I was 10 years old,” she said, “I was surrounded and taunted by a group of teenagers. It was a terrifying experience that I haven’t forgotten.
“Last week, we were inspected by a team from Ofsted. They grilled us about our school. I had the same feeling of being cornered and threatened – this time by people with authority.”
This pupil and her peers were asked how they could justify “censorship” in the school library — wasn’t this akin to censorship in Nazi Germany? “No,” said this shocked pupil. “I trust the judgement of my parents and teachers.”
“So you think that ignorance is bliss?” countered the inspector.
Mr Javid listened to accounts from staff, pupils and members of community. “Girls,” he said. “Listen to me. You embody British values. You are British values. This government will protect you.”
Indeed the Prime Minister has pledged “to stand up for the freedom of people of all religions to speak about and practice their beliefs in peace and safety”. Well, now is the time that protection is needed.
The Yesodey Hatorah report published this week has brought to a head the attack on the way that Charedim raise their children. Surprise, surprise, the educational experience at Yesodey Hatorah is not a replica of the educational experience at British schools generally — and Ofsted will not countenance this lack of equality.
According to the report, the learning is “limited” and “tightly controlled”. The girls are not prepared for “life in modern Britain”.
This week I saw two headteachers cry, both people who have dedicated their lives to education. One leads Stamford Hill’s most progressive boys’ school, where children are following the national curriculum and sitting Sats tests. The headteacher addressed parents passionately about his school — and then this grown man burst out crying. They want to destroy the purity of our children, he wept.
The second was the dignified head of a high performing girls school. With glistening eyes and voice choked up, she contrasted her school with the state school nearby, where two police officers are posted at the gates every day when pupils leave. There is a banner fluttering outside declaring that school outstanding.
“Which of these schools teaches British values?” she demanded. “What have British values come to mean?”
This stand-off between Ofsted and the Charedi community is about freedom of religion — and it needs to be brought to an end.
Chaya Spitz OBE is chief executive of the Interlink Foundation and coordinator of Chinuch UK
