Whose language?

A few months ago, as I was searching for potential courses to take in spring semester, I came across one named Explorations in Urdu Language and Literature. As someone who regrets the fact that they don’t have nearly as good a command on the Urdu language as they would like to have, this course seemed like a perfect fit for me. One thing about it particularly stood out – the fact that name of the instructor seemed European, not Pakistani.

Some further research revealed that said instructor was American and very well qualified, with a PhD in Linguistic Anthropology and advanced proficiency in multiple South Asian languages (including Urdu). There is no doubt in the fact that such a scholar has a much greater command over and expertise of Urdu language and literature than I (someone who hasn’t formally studied these disciplines past the eleventh grade) do. However, perhaps her prowess does not match that of native scholars of Urdu – those that have not only studied the language extensively from an academic perspective but have also been born and bred into it. 

Ever since the colonization of India by the British, we have privileged Western knowledge over our own. Dadabhai Naoroji, in his book titled Poverty and un-British rule in India, writes of English education’s “great, noble, elevating, and civilizing literature and advanced science”. Even when the discipline in question was intrinsically Indian, the idea of a white man teaching it has always seemed very intriguing. An example of this is Alfred Woolner, a professor of Sanskrit at Punjab University in the early 20th century. It is not an unreasonable assumption to make that there existed Indians scholars at the time who could have filled this role, but it was obviously the ‘white man’ and his knowledge that was given preference.

The issue isn’t that someone from the West learns (and in turn, teaches) Urdu. In fact, doing so would lead to a spread of language and culture that most people would consider favourable. However, to be a non-native, regardless of your command over the language, and teach native speakers their own language speaks volumes about the intellectual superiority (hegemony even) we have given to the West. To put things into perspective, to me at least, the idea that a Pakistan or an Indian could teach undergraduate courses in English at Oxford or Princeton (or any university in the UK or the US, for that matter) seems unfathomable.

Issues pertaining to language are rightly considered one of the more important remnants of colonialism. An example would be the widely held idea that proficiency in English serves as a measure of intelligence and social standing in Pakistan. However, the fact that we still give our ‘colonial masters’ an influence even over our own languages proves that there is still much left to decolonize.

Note: This piece does not intend to criticize or disrespect the instructor in question, but instead aims to serve as a commentary on the agency over the languages, history, and cultures of states that are going through the process of decolonization.