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Almost
unbelievable, but very true
Serajul Islam Choudhury That Bangla should be the state language of an independent state was unbelievable in 1947 when Pakistan was founded and East Bengal became a part of that establishment. The demand on which the state language movement was based was not for Bangla to be the sole state language of that unwieldy state of which the majority, indeed 56 per cent, of the population spoke Bangla. The leaders of the language movement were not unaccommodating and would have been satisfied with Bangla accepted as one of the two state languages. And then in 1971 the quite unexpected and nearly impossible happened: East Bengal became an independent state with Bangla as its only state language. Clearly this was more than we had bargained for in 1948 and 1952. But was it really impossible that this should have happened? No, not so. And that for two very simple reasons, which were in fact interwoven. The first was the inevitability of independence to be achieved; and the second was the turning from the so-called two-nation theory to an idea of nationalism based on linguistic identity. When the Muslim population of Bengal voted for Pakistan in 1946 the dream was one of freedom. But soon it began to be clear that that the dream was unlikely to come true within the structure of the new dispensation of power. The rude declaration in early 1948 that Urdu, and Urdu alone, would be the state language was a revelation apart from being, on its own, an appalling assault on the sensibility of the people. Initially what East Bengal demanded was regional autonomy, which demand ultimately developed into one for complete independence, because that was what the people had expected when they fought and made sacrifices for the establishment of Pakistan. Concurrently, the threat of the imposition of Urdu brought to the fore the question of the identity of the Bengalis. They realised that they were Bengalis first before being anything else. Their entire outlook on nationalism was affected and registered a quiet change. The fact that of all the elements that constitute nationalism, language is the most potent and democratic inasmuch as it is secular and goes beyond creed and class came to be recognised through actual field experience. And it was this change in outlook which made the movement for independence irrepressible. But after all the changes and alterations that have occurred there has been a disappointment which, on the surface of it, would seem to be not only great but even incredible. To put it bluntly, Bangla has become the state language but not really the language of the state. At the higher echelons of power Bangla is used grudgingly, often in slovenly manner. It has not yet become the language of the higher courts of justice. Bangla has not become the common medium of instruction as it was expected to be. At higher levels, the medium remains English. Academics do not feel inclined to write their books in Bangla. In the conversation of the educated and well to do, English words tend to drive away those belonging to the mother tongue. All these look very ironical indeed. For when the state was hostile and suppressed the use of Bangla, the middle class stood for Bangla and fought for its honour; now that the state has officially declared itself to be entirely on the side of the Bengalis, many of those who matter have turned away from their mother tongue. This change, however, is not difficult to explain. It lies rooted in the very character of the middle class itself, the richer part of which has turned itself into the rulers and has found it advantageous to use English rather than Bangla. Patriotism is in no way one of the virtues of the ruling class of Bangladesh; and the rapid decline of patriotism that they had once been inspired by in their confrontation with the hostile state of Pakistan is being reflected in their apathy towards and neglect of the language they had seemed to be deeply in love with. Bangla has always been the language of the people as distinguished from their rulers. The rulers have changed, but their attitude to the language of the people has not. The middle class was in the leadership of the language movement and also, naturally, of the movement for independence. It was, however, the people's participation which made these movements proceed towards their logical conclusions. But those who became the rulers betrayed the people. This had happened in 1947. The rulers after 1947 were anti-Bangla. The rulers after 1971, themselves Bengalis, did not display any noticeable love for their mother tongue. The rising Bengali middle class had felt, not without reason, particularly patriotic in upholding the cause of Bangla against the repressive measures perpetrated by the state of Pakistan. They were definitely against the attempted imposition of Urdu. But were they, for that matter, anti-English? No, not really. English was in no way unfamiliar to them; they had managed to acquire some skill in the use of that language --- professionally as well as academically. Before Pakistan came into being, they were obliged to compete with the Hindu middle class which had the advantage of having begun learning English at least fifty years earlier. Pakistan had promised the East Bengalis the elimination of the Hindu rival. But even before that promise had been fully realised, in came the new threat from the Urduwallahs who, for no reason other than their belonging to the language they spoke, seemed likely to consolidate further the superior positions they were occupying in administration and business in relation to the Bengalis. This was intolerable. Hence the fight against Urdu as the only state language was one of total commitment. But with English they did not have much of a quarrel. To them English was modern, smart and international; and they were not particularly averse to learning English. In fact, they were helped in their growth by their knowledge of that language.
Amirul Rajiv The independence of 1971 gave a section of this middle class the opportunity of getting richer in an unbelievably quick manner. The means they adopted were not one of economic production, but of simple plunder. Nothing that the country possessed was safe in the hands of these plunderers who had replaced the Punjabi genocical hordes as rulers. Even the mother tongue became an object of abuse and neglect. And since they became the role models, their conduct began to be imitated, and sometimes reproduced, by those over whom they ruled and are ruling. The feelings of patriotism which they had nourished within themselves during their struggle against the state of Pakistan began to dissipate. This was due to two very obvious reasons. First, they had become masters of the independent state which they thought, of course wrongly, had come into existence because of their sacrifices. Second, because they had been overwhelmed by the ideology of capitalism to which they had willingly and gladly surrendered. The middle class as a class in itself had never been anti-capitalist. Indeed, the only line of economic success it could think of was that of capitalism, even if vaguely perceived. Now that some of this class became the rulers they found themselves liberated. For them independence meant the opportunity to get rich at the expense of the well-being of the public at large. Under their rule and governance Bangladesh itself became a marginalised part of the global capitalist system, despite the socialist dream that had been the moving force during the war of liberation, which war the capitalist countries had not only disliked but positively opposed. Amazingly but not unnaturally, considering the outlook of the new rulers of Bangladesh, the people found that the hegemony of the British colonialists had been replaced by that of the American imperialists, and that English being the language of both hegemonists alike had gained in power and influence, instead of losing. Today more than 230 million people speak Bangla, and numerically speaking the Bangla speakers constitute the fourth largest section of the world population. And yet the language does not have the honour due to it. This is not a paradox. Nor is the language to blame. For it is the poor and shabby quality of life of the Bangla speakers which has been faithfully reflected in the dishonour Bangla has been put into. What looks like an impossibility
now can, of course, be achieved.
In Bangladesh,
Bangla can become the
medium of
education
at all levels, right from the primary
to the very highest. It can become the state
language not merely rhetorically
but substantially. And Bangla can bring all
its speakers spread throughout the world
within a self-respecting,
distinguished and homogeneous
unity. That miracle is not unlikely to happen
if we in Bangladesh can act
and move properly.
What we need is a movement of liberation, not
a new one, but
a continuation of the one that began in 1857
with the Sepoy Uprising and moved
ahead
through anti-colonial struggles, manifested
itself remarkably in
the state language
movement of 1952, the upsurge of 1969 and finally
the war of 1971. That the goal has not been
reached is
easy to
see. One
of the many
failures
staring
at us is the very status of Bangla in our national
life. The state has altered in name and shape
but not in character;
the
power relationship
within it has
remained as before. The people of Bangladesh
have not been liberated. Consequently
and very naturally,
the
people's
language, Bangla,
has suffered.
It would be
no exaggeration to say that our future, in
Bangladesh and elsewhere in the world, is inseparably linked
up with what
happens to
Bangla, and
vice versa.
The liberation of the people will not be gained
unless and until there is a social
revolution in the country,
changing
relationships
within
both society
and the state. Many things have changed. We
have
heard of revolutions of various hues, but the
social structure
has
survived. We
must democratise our society
and state to make ourselves worthy of respect
and honour from ourselves as well
as from others. The
task is
difficult, but
not impossible
to achieve.
The truly unbelievable may very well happen
the next time. |
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