Side-effect

Although books, art, culture, literature or some feats of scholarship are discussed, quoted or criti

By Harris Khalique
September 09, 2011
Although books, art, culture, literature or some feats of scholarship are discussed, quoted or criticised in this column at times, this space is not supposed to promote or review a book. But what do you do if you chance upon a book whose publication is an event in itself. When the propositions are such that they may create anger, frustration, anxiety and discomfort among different segments of the society in which you live and remains a charged issue in the political sphere, you ought to mention that book and ask any of your readers interested in politics, history and linguistics to pick it up. The book I recommend is essential to understand the origins and potential of the language that brings us all together at one level and divides us at another – across South Asia and within Pakistan.
Dr Tariq Rahman is not simply our foremost linguist. He has a certain political vantage point. He sides with the weak, rejects absolutism, abhors bigotry and is totally anti-communal. The last bit becomes more relevant when we talk about his latest and seminal work, “From Hindi to Urdu – A Social and Political History”. In a country where history is not even taught as a proper subject in public schools, generations after generations are devoid of any sense that it inculcates. But one must say that many conclusions reached at and ideas propounded in the book are not entirely new to people who have interest in language politics, understand the use of Urdu as a communal identity marker and believe in inclusion and social justice where a language must not be used as a separator. But here the preconceived notions and politics of the other camp which hinges our tradition, culture and languages in central or western Asia or the Middle East are challenged on the basis of researched facts and dedicated academic inquiry.
You may disagree with some of Dr Rahman’s assertions, analysis and commentary, but he does incite you to raise new questions and come up with ideas which can be further probed and expanded. For instance, like Dr Mubarak Ali, the agency of Muslims in creating the communal wedge is sometimes overstated. Here, a serious but less expansive work than Rahman’s book on the subject deserves a note. It was “Urdu ka ibtidai zamana (Urdu in its initial period)” by arch Indian critic, writer and scholar, Shamsur Rehman Farooqui, which appeared some years ago. It had a similar effect on the reader. It informed a lot but generated questions and ideas.
Dr Rahman concludes the book by saying, “It is, after all, only the truth to say that even now – after about two hundred years of separation and drifting apart – spoken Urdu and Hindi are the same language. It is only by not losing sight of the continuities and shared cultural features among Pakistanis and (north) Indians that we can hope to transcend the mutual hatred which threatens to annihilate this ancient land.”
Tailpiece: Coming to think of it, in our local context, calling only a section of Pakistanis ‘Urdu-speaking’ is perhaps a misnomer. One, that their ancestors came from fifteen states of what is now India having different mother tongues, and, two, so many Pakistanis and north Indians speak Urdu as their first language, even if they have different mother tongues. I am not getting into the creation of literature yet, nor the use of Urdu as the only language of wider public discourse in Pakistan. For a change, let’s probe this more academically than politically this time.

The writer is an Islamabad-based poet, author and public policy advisor. Email: harris.khalique@ gmail.com