By Mohammad Saiyedul Islam in Yan'an, Shaanxi | chinadaily.com.cn

Recently, I climbed a hillside path in Qianqiaogou, south of Zhidan county in Yan'an city, Northwest China's Shaanxi province, to stand inside a row of cave dwellings that once served as classrooms.

The visit was part of "The Contemporary Value of Edgar Snow's Spirit", a program co-hosted by Xinhua News Agency and Peking University, and organized by the Xinhua Institute, marking 90 years since the Red Army's Long March and Edgar Snow's journey into northern Shaanxi that produced Red Star Over China.

I went expecting a history lesson and came away with a clearer thesis that education is most vital when societies face hardship. After visiting this remarkable site where one of China's earliest revolutionary educational institutions once operated under extraordinarily difficult conditions, I found myself reflecting not only on China's revolutionary past but also on a timeless lesson about the power of education.

The site is modest by any modern standard, with 11 cave dwellings, three tile-roofed houses, and a little over 3,000 square meters carved into a mountainside. This was the headquarters and student housing for the first department of the Chinese People's Anti-Japanese Red Army University, which was relocated here in July 1936 as the Party central committee itself moved to Zhidan county.

There were no proper desks, precious few textbooks, teachers, basic living necessities, and a shortage of buildings, and a war closing in from multiple directions. And yet, inside those caves, the Communist Party of China chose, at one of the most precarious moments in its history, to build a university.

As a teacher and researcher, what impressed me most was not simply the site's historical significance or the distinguished military leaders who once studied there. Instead, I was struck by a central question that shaped my visit: Why would a revolutionary movement, struggling for survival amid war and scarcity, devote so much attention to education?

The answer is clear and profoundly relevant to today's world: Education matters most when conditions are hardest.

Education is often associated with times of peace and prosperity. Many societies view it as a long-term investment that can wait until immediate crises have passed. Yet the Anti-Japanese Red Army University embodied a very different philosophy: Even amid shortages of buildings, teachers, textbooks, and basic necessities, education remained a strategic priority rather than a luxury.

The university's mission extended far beyond military training. It aimed to cultivate individuals capable of leadership, critical thinking, discipline, political awareness, and responsibility. In that sense, it recognized that victories on the battlefield alone could not secure a nation's future. A country also needed educated people capable of governing, rebuilding, and leading society after the conflict ended.

This insight remains remarkably relevant in the 21st century.

Today's challenges are vastly different from those of the 1930s. Countries now confront technological transformation, climate change, public health crises, economic uncertainty, and geopolitical competition. But these issues cannot be solved solely with material resources. They require capable, ethical, and well-educated people who can adapt to rapidly changing circumstances.

Visiting the former university reminded me that education is ultimately about preparing people for responsibilities they have not yet encountered. The founders of the Red Army University were training individuals not merely for the battles of their own time but for the enormous task of building a new China. In this way, their vision extended beyond immediate survival toward long-term national development.

One detail particularly caught my attention. The university's first department enrolled only 40 students, yet many later became senior military and national leaders. This demonstrates that the quality of education, leadership development, and sense of mission can be more influential than the size of an institution. Great universities do not simply transmit knowledge. They cultivate character, resilience, and commitment to public service.

As someone who has spent years studying and witnessing China's development, I see a consistent pattern across different historical periods. China has repeatedly emphasized human capital as a foundation for national progress.

This is evident from revolutionary-era cadre training to today's investments in universities, scientific research, vocational education, and technological innovation. Education has remained central to the country's modernization strategy, even as its content and methods have evolved dramatically, while the underlying belief that people are the nation's greatest resource has endured.

This lesson also resonates beyond China.

As a Bangladeshi teacher and researcher, I naturally reflect on my country's development journey. Bangladesh has made significant progress in education over recent decades, but we continue to face challenges in improving educational quality, fostering innovation, and preparing young people for an increasingly competitive global economy.

For this reason, economic growth depends not only on infrastructure, investment, and industrial expansion but also on developing capable citizens who can lead institutions, embrace new technologies, and solve complex problems.

The former Anti-Japanese Red Army University offers a clear reminder that education should never be viewed as secondary, even in difficult times. On the contrary, moments of uncertainty make investment in education even more essential. When societies continue educating people despite hardship, they invest in hope and in the future they aspire to create.

Walking through the preserved cave classrooms and modest residences, I was reminded that meaningful education does not necessarily require modern facilities or abundant resources. It requires committed teachers, motivated students, a shared purpose, and confidence that knowledge can transform society. These principles remain as relevant today as they were 90 years ago.

This was also one of the deeper messages Edgar Snow conveyed in Red Star Over China. Beyond documenting military campaigns, Snow sought to understand the ideas, aspirations, and human qualities that shaped the revolutionary movement. In Zhidan, I was able to appreciate another dimension of that story — the conviction that education and national rejuvenation must advance together.

In today's era of artificial intelligence, digital transformation, and unprecedented global interconnectedness, the world often measures progress through technological achievements or economic statistics. Yet my visit to the former Anti-Japanese Red Army University reminded me that the true foundation of sustainable development remains people: Educating them, nurturing responsible leadership, and cultivating purpose are investments whose value extends across generations.

The Red Army University proved that educational excellence does not require grand architecture. It requires an unyielding institutional soul aligned with the nation's destiny — and a belief that education can endure, guide, and renew society.

Mohammad Saiyedul Islam, PhD, is a senior lecturer and researcher in the School of Overseas Education (School of Foreign Languages) at Sanming University in China's Fujian province, and a senior research fellow at the Daffodil International University Belt and Road Research Centre in Bangladesh. He is a member of ICCIC-Gung Ho.