[Both lower and upper strata of society require English as per their social needs. Even the greengrocer and cobbler must know English to the extent that they could say (to their customers): take (it) if you like and don’t take (it) if you don’t like.]
English was, and continues to be, a glorified symbol of shaaistagi [civilisation], prestige, power, pride, progress and a key to unlocking doors to opportunities. This glorified image of English has not only left very little room for the development of vernaculars, but has instilled a sense of shame and inferiority among speakers of indigenous languages — a clear symptom of coloniality.
Dissemination leads to transformation. And transformation appears to be the raison d’etre of colonial modernity, not modernity. The relationship between modernity and coloniality is most problematic; a concurrence of them results in all sort of complexities.
Argentinean theorist Walter D. Mignolo, in his celebrated essay ‘The Darker Side of Western Modernity’, proposes a thesis that “The rhetoric of modernity (salvation, newness, progress, development) went hand in hand with the logic of coloniality.” Summing up his thesis, he puts that modernity and coloniality are two sides of the same coin. He has not drawn on the thin distinction between modernity and how it was practiced in colonised societies at the hands of both the colonisers and the colonised people. It is true that the notion of modernity introduced and disseminated in India and other colonial countries of the world proved to be, in most cases, a tool to ruthlessly exploit the economic and cultural resources of the colonies. In the name of salvation, progress and development, all kinds of violence — ranging from the killing of people, languages and cultures of the colonies to epistemological — was done in overt and subtle ways alike. This notion of modernity can be termed ‘colonial modernity’, which is not only distinct from the modernity being practiced by colonisers in their own countries, but also can be differentiated from a philosophical idea that is ahistorical in nature and whose thrust is on employing individual reason to know the mundane and beyond-mundane truths.
This philosophical idea of modernity was institutionalised by the West and its specific versions helped the colonisation of Asia, Africa and Latin America. In modernity, human reason courageously — and self-sufficiently — attempts to solve all kinds of problems of life and universe. But colonial modernity assigned human reason the task to mimic a lionised image of Europe on the one hand and, on the other, to think in terms of binaries: East-West, religious-secular, modern-traditionalist, deen-dunia [spiritual-worldly] and so on. Nationalism based on the exclusivity of religion, language or race was, and is, an artefact of ‘colonial modernity’.
Much before colonial and Western modernity, the 12th century Muslim philosopher Ibn Tufail, in his philosophical story Hai bin Yaqzan [Alive, Son of Awake] put forward the idea that an individual could solve the riddle of life by employing his reason alone. The 10th century Syrian poet Abul al-Ala al-Maari, writer of Luzumiyat says:
[But some hope a divine leader with prophetic voice
Will rise amid the gazing silent ranks.
An idle thought! There’s none to lead but reason,
To point the morning and the evening ways.]
We are still imprisoned in the dark room of colonial modernity; on one side we keep thinking in the same terms of progress, development and emancipation that were disseminated in the colonial era and, on the other, we reject reason, terming it a leftover of Western-colonial construct. This ambivalent attitude toward modernity is a hallmark of our social, literary and discursive life.
The writer is a Lahore-based critic, short story writer and author of Urdu Adab ki Tashkeel-i-Jadid (criticism) and Farishta
Nahi Aya (short stories)
Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, October 21st, 2018