Introduction
The belly of the world1 relies on the inevitability of language. The concept of The Self, its material relations imposed upon the body, the limits and traditions aroused by a collective, sustained a moralizing, passionate, and tainted reliance on the voice. We have allocated a multiplicity of words to navigate our loudest quality: morphology, semantic, lexicon, linguistic, communicative. Yet, the present limitations of low literacy rates, linguistic assimilation, or lack of receptive multilingualism acknowledged a new form of social discourse, that of post-colonial studies.
Provided the tools and proper education, the fabrication of the voice is reliant on that of tones, nuances and paradigms, yet if the embodiment and articulation of the individual is compressed/forgotten/unacknowledged, how is the culture affected? Sara Suleri and her text, The Rhetoric of English India, posits, “To tell the history of another is to be pressed against the limits of one’s own – thus culture learns that terror has a local habitation and name2”. Post-colonial studies became that catalyst of stretched limitations, by the recognition of subalternity and the tense ambivalence that dominates a diaspora. Moreover, my aim in this essay is to address how writers of South Asian heritage utilize the English language within cultural narratives to explicate a history of colonial oppression, resistance, and revenge amongst linguistic ‘Otherness’.
Colonial Oppression and Translation
Harish Trivedi and Susan Bassnett began to tackle the complexity of post-colonial translation as a literary phenomenon – that which disregards physical space or metaphoric, cultural ‘transportation’, for a literary field prescribed as an ‘interlingual translation provid[ing] an analogue for post-colonial writing3.’ Notably, the utilization of the prefix post- or pre-, upholds a function as linear identifiers, capable of separating a before, a beginning or an aftermath. Therefore, their actions are stationary, emblematic as a point of reference on a historical timeline or a previous state of existence. Yet, the prefix trans- disrupts a literary tradition with measurable outcomes; rather, it’s embraced as an ambiguous, stratified, social concept which must evaluate relevant discourse of personhood, identity and cultural subjugation to understand hierarchical systems of oppression. Plainly, it thrives on theoretical frameworks that become a necessary foreground for a ‘metatext of culture4.’
Namely, the ‘transcolonial’ or ‘translocation’ interacts with a complexity of geographical boundaries in conjunction to the morphological, the semantic, or the linguistic attitudes within a diasporic nation. The mitigation of ‘trans-’ must suffice as a competent descriptor of the transient identity the colonized subject is to retain. Rennhak attempts to tackle the marginal role of this dislocated pre-fix:
[…] they [‘transnational’, ‘transcultural’] do not focus on the links between two given entities – nations, cultures – assuming that these entities essentially remain the same; they rather presuppose (personal emphasis) border transgressions and constitutive transformations to take place all along, and they explore the productive instabilities, fluidities and conflicts within such entities – nations, cultures – which render all political attempts to draw a rigid boundary around them questionable5
The conditions of a diasporic identity are innately cyclical. The persistence of the English Language is repetitive, brazen in nature, and reliant on practices of assimilation. As such, the linguistic paradigms and cultural integrity of Eurocentric nations, disrupt the social harmony and ability to regulate ‘intercultural’ relationship between the ‘trans-’, foreign tongue and Standard Written English6. Ania Loomba in ‘Colonialism / Postcolonialism’, enriches Spivak’s’ influential postulation of the subalterns’ agency in her essay, ‘Can the Subaltern Speak?’, by pressing a linguistic dimension of the colonial subject. She writes, “In what voices do the colonised speak – their own, or in the accent borrowed from their masters7?” The mitigation of ‘borrowed’ to be an action wilfully taken on by the colonized individual elucidates a prevailing history of assimilation – that of the subaltern carrying a voice not of their own yet incapable of cultural possession of the colonizer’s language. English bears the commonality of hegemony and expansion; Urdu/Hindi became the fragment of agency left to the South Asian writer. So, how does the South Asian writer speak?
Salman Rushdie knew well of the ‘translated man’, who knew English and could not reject its presence. The writer was not to engage in a cultural fusion of the Indo-European, but rather the “locational disrupture8that must decentre the writer’s native homeland, rendering the land ‘imaginary’ amidst memories. By default, the space for Indian work in English media is how loose the accent becomes, the timidity of a colonial replication, or the biting silence of conversations. Language exists in these tensions of subversion – the utilization of ‘Othering’ to argue their uncivilized authority (‘savage, brute, uncouth, unsophisticated, barbarian, […] primitive’) and the political action necessary to reject the British, colonial role within India. Rushdie explores the former concept of linguistic subversion through the act of creating a new language entirely:
English, no longer an English language, now grows from many roots; and those whom it once colonized are carving out large territories within the language for themselves. The Empire is striking back9
As I begin to carve out my argument on Resistance and Revenge writing, the individual must be positioned accordingly. Edward Said in his book Orientalism procures an academic, philosophical, and intimate depiction of the ‘Other’. A raw and passioned piece of text, Said narrates a poli-cultural exposition to shape the Orient amongst the linguistic paradigms of language, repetition, and mimicry.
It is an elaboration not only of a basic geographical distinction (the world is made up of two unequal halves, Orient and Occident) but also a whole series of ‘interests’ […] it not only creates, but also maintains; it is, rather than expresses, a certain will or intention to understand, in some cases to control, manipulate, even to incorporate, what is a manifestly different world10
Notably, the Orient succumbs to a duality of identity, ‘Orient and Occident’, while enforcing the maintenance, incorporation, or intention into a subjected alterity. These distinctions are disjointed and unregulated by linear conceptions of time, reliant on the colonial subject to execute with recognition of language. Post-colonial studies resist the dualism of identity through the conception of abrogation. It is then that the alterity of the voice can be heard.
Resistance: Allowing the Subaltern to Speak
“Something of the unwashed odour of the chamcha lingers around its cadences.”
Salman Rushdie, The Empire Writes Back with Vengeance
The political tradition of resistance within a colonial territory is unabashedly physical. The land becomes violated — seeped in blood or deficient in institutions, rendering the body of the land contaminated by the imposed, imperial command. Yet, a lingering dialect of the people resist the violence of this colonial policy, as a tactic recognized for Linguistic Imperialism. A conception that seeks to structurally, ideologically, and with exploitative intent, privilege a dominant language, in this instance English, over an ‘uncivilized’ language – that of the native, colonial dialect. Phillipson on Linguistic Imperialism, empirically investigates the characteristics of dominate and suppressed languages in common expansion practices, global trade, and the waves of post-colonial critique. An English Professor at the University of Copenhagen, Phillipson offers an analytic list of necessary qualities present within linguistic imperialism – for my argument, I will be listing a few critical points: “Linguistic imperialism is invariably contested and resisted,” [..] “The dominance is hegemonic: It is internalized and naturalized as being ‘normal,’” […] “Linguistic imperialism interlocks with a structure of imperialism in culture, education, the media, communication, the economy, politics, and military activities11” Yet, with a limited implementation of a native, colonial language, in this instance Hindi and Urdu, the writers, linguists, religious practices, teachers and individuals, connected to their native tongue, are unable to express the consumptive process of colonialization precisely within the English language. They are stuck amidst the boundaries of translation. The invariable resistance Phillipson mentions attaches Trivedi and Bassnet’s theoretical framework of an intra-personal conflict the South Asian writer encounters, writing:
[The Indian who writes] in spite of our ambiguity towards it, or because of that, perhaps because we find in that linguistic struggle a reflection of other struggles taking place in the real world, struggles between the cultures within ourselves and the influences at work upon our societies12
The genesis of linguistic resistance necessitates cultural reflection, their current ambiguity within society, or even further, the South Asian writer must begin to frame the discourse their language arouses within global conversations as their own. My attempt within this section is to display the expanse of linguistic dislocation and the corresponding response of the ‘Other’ — that when utilized by the oppressed, begins to critique, dismantle, and outright resist the structuralism of imperial languages13 (i.e English). To apply pressure at the root of my argument, an opposition of colonial rhetoric is essential, or precisely what Doering labels as ’counter-discourse’:
Such a process by which oppositional forces emerge from within established power structures and begin to redefine or re-employ their mechanisms, is usefully described as ‘counter-discourse’ […] Yet to fight this cause, the means are taken up in different, unconventional, unexpected ways and so, instead of endorsing the discursive structures, are now used to manipulate their elements, appropriate their signs and ultimately change them14
Present-day media has allowed for the unconventional, raw, or often violent to be globally recognized, or most importantly heard. But what of the South Asian writer who nurtures a philological attitude within their work? How does the rhyme match the tension of their native tongue? Does the translation they are engaging with accurately elucidate the words missing from their vocabulary, lost in colonial regimes and decades of linguistic hegemony? Is this all their voice would become known for?
Section II: Shame, Salman Rushdie
Salman Rushdie prepares a space amongst literature to produce a body of work on shame. The basis of power, that which surpasses royal status, political affiliations, marriage, or economic abundance rather commences at the welcoming of resistance. The opposition amongst these cultural notifiers, is decerned by their relational qualities, that of challenging authority, situation, dependency on movements/protest/action, and a social response. Within his novel, Shame, Rushdie’s pivotal reflection on the shamelessness of political corruption or of gendered persecution, actualizes the 1947 Partition of Pakistan and India as a space capable of satirization from a South Asian writer:
Wanting to write about shame, I was at first haunted by the imagined spectre of that dead body, its throat slit like a halal chicken, lying in a London night across a zebra crossing […] I thought of the crime as having been committed right there, publicly, ritually, white at the windows eyes.15
Intimacy permeates the mode of resistance for Rushdie. The personal implication of acknowledging shame, writing the complexity and qualities of the brash emotion, while reflecting the feeling in a narrative based on a post-partition Pakistan alludes to the rigid silence desirable by that linguistic imperialism. Rushdie utilizes English to write the South Asian experience tainted by a British, colonial upheaval; the grasp of shame is not a quality of the Oriental body, but a consequence of the Occident invasion. Crucially, the body is not forgotten, rather personified to hold the violent persecution of shame, leaving a ‘throat slit like a halal chicken’ and the remnant of the figure is left publicly for all to witness the crime. The metaphoric body is abruptly killed at night, laid in the street of blinking lights and zebra crossings, to carry an outline of a voice Rushdie cannot carry, but his text can. The acknowledgement, publication and enunciation of the by-product of shame upholds a space to question and observe the experience of the subject, while also examining the encounter the South Asian author witnessed to know such characteristics of shame. Salman Rushdie’s metaphoric examination of shame became a bite of resistance as he set out to write the Oriental struggle in a colonial language of English.
Revenge: The English Expansion
“Babu-English, chamcha-English, and turn it against
itself: the instrument of subservience became a weapon of liberation16”
Yet, what does revenge look like within one’s fight against linguistic imperialism? The British poet, Daljit Nagra, arguably performs within his notable works ‘British Museum’ and ‘Look We Have Coming to Dover!’ a channel for a counter-discourse, often challenging mainstream narratives within the complexity of post-colonial language itself. In his piece, ‘For the Wealth of India17’, a disparate dialect leads the scene of Nagra’s ’ancestral homeland’ through the bazaar tracks and the ’brightly lit boutiques’, yet as the speaker begins to brandish the wealth through Sari-shopping, the diction aligns with British, formal expressions: ”That is the style mummy! / I need it now mummy!” while a few lines later, Nagra creates a linguistic space for the mother, as her Indian accent seeps through the dialogue: “[…] until mum / clears them with her finest English: / Vut is dis corruption? Vee need it fut-a-fut, or must vee / go to the clean nosed Hindu with cut-cut scissors, next door? / Daddy would applaud if he wasn’t slogging at the concrete factory18.” Nagra decisively disregards the aesthetic judgement, or embarrassment toward an accent untouched by British expression, but rather proceeds within a position of authority. Rather, the mothers accent becomes a state of great wealth, a symbol of power which can refuse the work of British tailors to go to the ’clean nosed Hindu next door.’ Doering comments on the phenomena of power and language stating,” […] ’power’ should not be understood as a matter of physical violence only (personal emphasis) but of language, of everyday practices […] but which all bear serious thinking and reconsideration because none of them are historically unchanging nor without alternative19.” Precisely, the British poet is critical of the framework of power present within language. The piece subverts the English voice, saturated in a British (colonial) accent, as inferior within the conversation; the tailors are silenced, contained to slight movements as they ’scratch their necks, snort / reversing some phlegm’.
Nagra employs a notable portmanteau, ‘Punglish20’, as a keynote to his work. A fusion of the British-Asian experience, the writers revenge begins at the concoction of a new lexicon, a merging of a voice oppressed for an ’uncivilized’ presence amongst an enforced colonial language. Rather, Nagra’s work becomes an antithesis to assimilation. In his piece, ’He Do the Foreign Voices’, the voice becomes disjointed, mixed with an extension of an occupying English dialect, yet ripe in the lyrical intonation of Punglish. The disruption is vital to sustain the control of language, whether it be a mesh of English-Hindi, or translations from Hindi to English. Nagra ends the piece as, “You drive away, yet somehow affirmed, / more in love with your pretty airs / that update the same old / that speak to power and fear, / whether they’re heard or not, they’ll say, head on, / before family and blood and wealth / our hoard of words must cleanse the world21” In defiance, the ’hoard of words’ utilized is no longer metaphorical, or lapsed through linguistic assimilation, rather Nagra punishes the English aesthetic with gaps, pauses and enough space to let his ’Punglish’ voice lament the history of Indian imperialism. Eurocentrism is disrupted, in favour of the world which must be cleansed, before that of ’family and blood and wealth’ comes the distinction of the Punjab voice.
Section III: Partition Voices
BBC Radio 4 series on ‘Partition Voices’ interviewed British-Asians and militia in the British Colonial forces to cover the 1947 Partition between India and Pakistan. The migrations of millions, uneducated borders imposed by British officials resulting in border disputes, the dislocation of language between Hindi and Urdu, and the religious affiliations between Muslims and Sikhs/Hindu left last damage between the two countries over seven decades later. The broadcast titled ‘Legacy’ and ‘Inheritors of Partition’ assemble the consequence and tense aftermath of the Partition while also providing a voice for the generations of British-Asians who feel the effect years later. o a greater extent, the coverage provided a concrete foundation for the South Asian voice to explicate, deconstruct, or just remain an active participant within the conversation. Amongst the first of the series, a Pakistani gentleman provides a metaphoric illustration of the Partition, stating: “[…] You know when a lady does an abortion, child has died, she bleeds. We Sikh community, we aborted from our home, but we were alive. She [homeland in Pakistan] must be bleeding22.” Recalling the instigation of power within post-colonial studies, the space carved by this podcast allows for a representation of South Asian identity, while also embracing the violence of resistance through verbal expression. Therefore, the mode of ’revenge’ is not a physical, aggressive display of power, but one found is reuniting a dislocated, transcolonial identity a platform to utilize a voice once repressed, disregarded, or linguistically altered.
Conclusion
Translation and the industry of literature are neoteric guides amongst post-colonial discourse. A bridge between the ‘Oriental’ voice and the hegemonic listener, the mode of morphology and interpretation deliver banished stories, untold narratives and forgotten dialects as foundational to the modern socio-cultural and political atmosphere. As post-colonial studies progress, my argument surrounded the colonial, diasporic voice and revenge may be acknowledged, but my theoretical framework posited through poetry, narratives, and alternative media expand upon a literary tradition of orality and interpretation. The South Asian writer, individual, speaker and experience do carry a voice capable of resistance amidst colonial oppression, but also with a strength to engage in revenge as well.
Footnotes:
1 Referenced from Sadiya Hartman in her piece, The Belly of the World. Utilized in this instance to replace how the modern follows the conception of language, relying on its birth and future endeavours to establish identity. Therefore, language is a symbol of birth, which is inevitably once conceived, but also critical to modern development.
2 Suleri 1992: 2.
3 Bassnet, Trivedi 1999: 35.
4 Bassnett, Trivedi 1999: 3.
5 Doring 2019: 30.
6 The definition of SWE is utilized in the context of David Foster Wallace, ‘Democracy, English, and The Wars Over Usage’ referenced in Harper’s Magazine. (2001). Wallace makes considerable effort to indebt his work with abbreviations, where he makes racially charged statements elucidating a difference between SBE (Standard Black English) and SWE, (Standard White English). This is to be noted due to the clear erasure of accents, tones and phrases used within cultures, to where they are considered ‘Other’ and unconventional. Notably, this mindset settles in with the debate of language in South Asian Diasporas.
7 Loomba 1998: 229.
8 Trevidi 1998: 13.
9 Rushdie 1982.
10 Said 1978: 13.
11 Phillipson 2024.
12 Bassnett & Trivedi 1999: 58.
13 It is to be noted that given the nuances of language, English is represented within linguistic imperialism due to its histography within British, colonial rule in India, yet many other language like Spanish, French and German were utilized in a similar manner within colonization to inflict structural, linguistic impositions on the native subject.
14 Doering 2019: 26.
15 Rushdie 1983: 116.
16 Rushdie 1982.
17 Daljit Nagra, Look We Have Coming to Dover!
18 Nagra 2019: 9.
19 Doering 2019: 22
20 A combination of Punjabi and English.
21 Nagra 2017: 19.
22 BBC Radio 2017: 00:43.
References:
Bassnett, Susan, and Harish Trivedi. 1999. Post-Colonial Translation: Theory and Practice (Milton Keynes: Lightning Source)
Döring, Tobias. 2011. Postcolonial Literatures in English (Stuttgart Klett Lernen Und Wissen)
Gallagher, Michael, Tim Smith, and Ant Adeane. 2017. ‘Legacy, Partition Voices’ (BBC Radio 4)
Loomba, Ania. 1998. Colonialism-Postcolonialism (London Etc.: Routledge)
Nagra, D. (2017). British Museum. Faber & Faber.
Nagra, D. (2019). Look We Have Coming to Dover! Faber & Faber.
Phillipson, Robert. 2024. ‘Linguistic Imperialism’, The Encyclopedia of Applied Linguistics (Wiley): 1–5 <https://doi.org/10.1002/9781405198431.wbeal0718.pub3>
Rushdie, Salman. (1982) ‘The Empire writes back with a vengeance’, Times, 03 Jul, 8, available: https://link-gale-com.bris.idm.oclc.org/apps/doc/CS134843107/TTDA?u=univbri&sid=bookmark-TTDA&pg=8&xid=013e846f
Rushdie, Salman. 2010. Imaginary Homelands: Essays and Criticism 1981-1991 (London: Vintage Books)
Said, Edward W. 1978. Orientalism (New York: Pantheon Books)
Singh, K., Maheshwari, K. (2024). Primitivizing the Hindus: Hindus as Oppressive and Hierarchical. In: Colonial Discourse and the Suffering of Indian American Children. Palgrave Macmillan, Cham. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-57627-0_3
Suleri, Sara. 2011. The Rhetoric English India (Chicago ; London: The University Of Chicago Press)
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