Language Policy and Language Conflict in Afghanistan and Its Neighbors : The Changing Politics of Language Choice [1 ed.] 9789004217652, 9789004201453

Citation preview

Language Policy and Language Conflict in Afghanistan and Its Neighbors

Brill’s Studies in South and Southwest Asian Languages Series Editors

John Peterson, University of Kiel Anju Saxena, Uppsala University Editorial Board

Anvita Abbi, Jawaharlal Nehru University Balthasar Bickel, University of Zurich George Cardona, University of Pennsylvania Carol Genetti, University of California, Santa Barbara Geoffrey Haig, University of Bamberg Gilbert Lazard, CNRS & École Pratique des Hautes Études Harold F. Schiffman, University of Pennsylvania Udaya Narayana Singh, Visva-Bharati, Shantiniketan, India

VOLUME 2

The titles published in this series are listed at brill.nl/bssal

Language Policy and Language Conflict in Afghanistan and Its Neighbors The Changing Politics of Language Choice

Edited by

Harold F. Schiffman

LEIDEN • BOSTON 2012

Cover illustration: Afghanistan landscape and village, Band-e-Amir lakes and canyons, Bamyan Province. © Christophe Cerisier, 2010. This book is printed on acid-free paper. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Language policy and language conflict in Afghanistan and its neighbors : the changing politics of language choice / edited by Harold F. Schiffman. p. cm. — (Brill’s studies in south and southwest Asian languages; 2) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-90-04-20145-3 (hardback) 1. Asia, Central—Languages—Political aspects. 2. Afghanistan—Languages—Political aspects. 3. Language planning—Asia, Central. 4. Language planning—Afghanistan. I. Schiffman, Harold F. P119.32.A783L36 2012 306.44’958—dc23 2011037005

ISSN 1877-4083 ISBN 978 90 04 20145 3 (hardback) ISBN 978 90 04 21765 2 (e-book) Copyright 2012 by Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, The Netherlands. Koninklijke Brill NV incorporates the imprints Brill, Global Oriental, Hotei Publishing, IDC Publishers, Martinus Nijhoff Publishers and VSP. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the publisher. Authorization to photocopy items for internal or personal use is granted by Koninklijke Brill NV provided that the appropriate fees are paid directly to The Copyright Clearance Center, 222 Rosewood Drive, Suite 910, Danvers, MA 01923, USA. Fees are subject to change.

CONTENTS List of Maps ........................................................................................ Preface ................................................................................................. Acknowledgements ............................................................................ List of Contributors ...........................................................................

vii ix xi xiii

1. Afghan Languages in a Larger Context of Central and South Asia ...................................................................................... Harold F. Schiffman and Brian Spooner

1

SECTION I

AFGHANISTAN AND IRAN 2. Language Policy in Afghanistan: Linguistic Diversity and National Unity .............................................................................. Senzil Nawid

31

3. Locating ‘Pashto’ in Afghanistan: A Survey of Secondary Sources ........................................................................................... Walter Hakala

53

4. Persian, Farsi, Dari, Tajiki: Language Names and Language Policies ............................................................................................ Brian Spooner

89

SECTION II

CENTRAL ASIAN REPUBLICS OF THE FORMER SOVIET UNION 5. Reversing Language Shift in Kazakhstan ................................. William Fierman 6. Language Policy and Language Development in Multilingual Uzbekistan .............................................................. Birgit Schlyter

121

176

vi

contents

7. The Fate of Uzbek Language in the ‘Other’ Central Asian Republics ...................................................................................... William Fierman

208

SECTION III

THE NORTHWEST FRONTIER PROVINCE AND PASHTO, PUNJABI, AND BALOCHI 8. Pashto Language Policy and Practice in the North West Frontier Province ....................................................................... Robert Nichols 9. A ‘Vernacular’ for a ‘New Generation’? Historical Perspectives about Urdu and Punjabi, and the Formation of Language Policy in Colonial Northwest India ................. Jeffrey M. Diamond 10. Balochi: Towards a Biography of the Language ................... Brian Spooner

263

282

319

SECTION IV

PEDAGOGICAL RESOURCES AND CONCLUSION 11. Resources for the Study of Language Policies and Languages of Afghanistan and Its Neighbors ....................... Cynthia Groff

339

12. Conclusion ................................................................................... Harold F. Schiffman

354

Index ....................................................................................................

359

LIST OF MAPS Chapter 1 (Harold F. Schiffman and Brian Spooner) 1. Central and Southwest Asia .......................................................

5

Chapter 3 (Walter Hakala) 1. Variations in the pronunciation of ‫ ښ‬...................................... 2. Distribution of major ethnic groups in Afghanistan .............

66 67

Chapter 5 (William Fierman) 1. Kazakhstan and adjacent areas ..................................................

131

Chapter 7 (William Fierman) 1. Uzbekistan and adjacent areas ................................................... 2. The Ferghana Valley region ........................................................

211 212

Chapter 10 (Brian Spooner) 1. South-Central and Central Asia where Balochi is spoken ....

333

PREFACE In Afghanistan and the countries around it in Central Asia it is difficult to trace the historical process of language policy formulation, or even events that suggest an awareness of relationships between languages, back beyond the later decades of the 19th century at the earliest. However, it is not possible to understand what has happened since then without some knowledge of the earlier history. The situation is further complicated by the regime changes of the past three decades: the Iranian revolution of 1978, the Afghan Putsch of 1978 and continuing warfare since then, the passage back and forth between democracy and military rule in Pakistan, and the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991. As the result of a workshop held at the University of Pennsylvania in December 2003, when a number of scholars presented papers on language policy issues, focusing on topics as varied as 19th century British policy in what is now Pakistan, Soviet and post-Soviet policy in Central Asia and in Afghanistan, and Iran in the internet age, a better picture is now available about what is official and explicit, what is not official but is implicit or in general practice, and what the likely future developments might be. Among these, orthographic shift and reform is likely, as attempts to turn back the clock on Soviet orthographic policy take various turns. What is very clear is that multilingualism, whether it involves Persian, Russian, or English in addition to other languages, has always been a part of the scene, and will probably continue to be. The contribution of this collection of articles is an updated account of language policy in the region, giving potential language learners a clearer picture of the relative standing of various languages in relation to each other, the resources that exist for learning them, and what is still needed. Finally, a note about fonts, scripts, place names and other nomenclature used by various authors in their contributions. Because of script changes and orthography reforms, especially in the former Soviet Central Asian republics, names used by one author may differ from usage in that of another. This may occur because of having been transliterated from one Central Asian script into Russian, then back into the script (either Cyrillic, Arabic, or Roman) used in another. We have made no attempt to ‘standardize’ or reconcile these differences.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS The editor of this volume is grateful to a number of sources for funding for a workshop held in December, 2003 devoted to the question of languages and language policy in Afghanistan and its neighbors. The South Asia Language and Area Center of the University of Pennsylvania provided the original funding, which was supplemented with funding from the South Asia Language Resource Center, located at the University of Chicago, and the Consortium for Language Teaching and Learning, of New Haven, Connecticut, which helped pay for travel support. The papers delivered at the workshop were eventually supplemented by other contributions from additional authors. It should be noted that the material in the Introduction on the subject of diglossia is based on earlier research by Schiffman entitled ‘Diglossia as a Sociolinguistic Situation.’ This appeared originally in Florian Coulmas (ed.), The Handbook of Sociolinguistics. London: Basil Blackwell, Ltd., 1997, and is used here with their permission. Funding for the preparation of the index was provided by a grant from the Royal Swedish Academy of Letters. Also, the map of Central and Southwest Asia, and the map of regions where Balochi is spoken were provided by Kimberly Leaman of the University of Pennsylvania Museum.

LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS Harold F. Schiffman is Professor Emeritus of Dravidian Linguistics and Culture at the University of Pennsylvania. His research interests focus on the linguistics of the Dravidian languages, especially Tamil, and to a lesser extent, Kannada, and in the area of language policy. He has published in these two areas where overlapping interests in sociolinguistics (diglossia, language standardization, multilingualism) intersect with language policy and the politics of language. He is also director of the Consortium for Language Policy and Planning, and recently finished a stint as Pedagogical Materials Director of the National South Asia Language Resource Center. Recent publications include Linguistic Culture and Language Policy (Routledge, 1996) and A Reference Grammar of Spoken Tamil (Cambridge University Press, 1999). Jeffrey M. Diamond’s research examines modern South Asian social and intellectual history, including religious reform and Indian responses to imperialism. He received his PhD from the School of Oriental and African Studies (University of London) in 2002, and his forthcoming book, Negotiating Muslim Identity: Education, Print and Intellectuals in Nineteenth Century Colonial North India, examines print, Islamic education, and religious identity in British India during the later nineteenth century. Dr. Diamond has received grants and awards from organizations that include the Fulbright Foundation, and he held a Mellon Postdoctoral Fellowship at Cornell University. Before moving to his current position as Assistant Professor at the College of St. Benedict/St. John’s University, he was Assistant Professor at the College of Charleston, S. Carolina. William Fierman, Professor of Central Eurasian Studies, Indiana University, is interested in questions of language policy and their relation to broader political, social, economic, and social issues in the Soviet Union and in the countries that emerged after 1991. He has published on issues of corpus and status change in Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan, as well as other countries of Central Asia and Azerbaijan. Both in the Soviet and post-Soviet eras he is interested in language and language

xiv

list of contributors

policy as components of efforts to foster a sense of common identity. For the post-Soviet era he views this as part of a broader set of policies in such areas as demography, religion, and land. He served for 11 years as the director of the Inner Asian and Uralic National Resource Center, and was founding director of the Center for the Languages of the Central Asian Region. Cynthia Groff completed her PhD in Educational Linguistics at the University of Pennsylvania’s Graduate School of Education. Her dissertation, titled “Language, Education, and Empowerment: Voices of Kumauni Young Women in Multilingual India,” is based on field work conducted in North India. Her research interests include multilingual education and language planning for linguistic minorities. She is currently doing post-doctoral research with anglophone youth in Québec City through Université Laval. Walter N. Hakala, PhD (2010) in South Asia Studies, University of Pennsylvania, is Assistant Professor of South Asian Languages and Literature in the Department of English, University at Buffalo-SUNY. His research is concerned primarily with the ways in which individuals have participated in the Persianate literary cultures of northern India during the later Mughal and early colonial periods. His current project examines the long and complex history of Urdu lexicography and its role in shaping and reflecting emerging forms of literary and political discourse. Senzil K. Nawid focuses her research on the political, social, and cultural history of Afghanistan in the nineteenth and twentieth century. Her book, Religious response to Social Change in Afghanistan: King Aman-Allah and Afghan Ulama, 1919–1929 was published in 1999 and was recently translated into Dari. She has published a number of articles and book chapters on Afghan history, language, and history of Afghan women. Her most recent work, “Afghan Women under Marxism.” was published as a book chapter in From Patriarchy to Empowerment: Women’s Paricipation, Movements, and Rights in the Middle East, North Africa, and South Asia (ed. V. Moghadam) by Syracuse University Press. She has taught courses on Persian language and literature and the history of Central Asia at the University of Arizona.

list of contributors

xv

Robert Nichols is Professor of History at Richard Stockton College, New Jersey. His research and teaching explore issues of interregional, colonial, and modern history in South Asia and the Indian Ocean world. His book Settling the Frontier: Land, Law and Society in the Peshawar Valley, 1500–1900 (Oxford University Press) examines the dynamic relationship between state-building empires and local communities negotiating degrees of incorporation and autonomy. His book A History of Pashtun Migration, 1775–2006 (OUP, 2008) follows Pashtuns from the Peshawar and Afghan border region as they circulate and adapt to an expanding British Indian empire, nineteenth century global economic forces, Pakistani national opportunities after 1947, and global, especially Gulf, labor flows in the post-colonial period. His other publications include the edited volume Colonial Reports on Pakistan’s Frontier Tribal Areas (OUP, 2006) and the article “Afghan Historiography: Classical Study, Conventional Narrative, National Polemic” in History Compass, Oxford: Blackwell, 3 (2005) AS 141, pp. 1-16. Birgit N. Schlyter is Professor of Central Asian Studies at Stockholm University, Research Fellow at the Royal Swedish Academy of Letters, History and Antiquities, and Director of the Swedish Research Institute in Istanbul. She lectures on Turkish (grammar, literature and translation), Central Asian Cultural History, and Central Asian Linguistics including courses in Uzbek and other Turkic languages. Among her works in Turkish linguistics are the monograph Case Marking Semantics in Turkish (Stockholm, 1985) and the reference articles “Turkish Semantics Revisited,” in Turkish Linguistics Today (Leiden, 1991) and “Turkey,” on the language situation in Turkey and Turkish language research, in An International Handbook of the Science of Language and Society (Berlin, 2006). Her present main field of research is language development and language policies in the Central Asian region; see, e.g. works quoted in this volume. As Director in Istanbul Professor Schlyter heads a research environment for studies in both the humanities and social sciences related to territories comprising Central Asia, the Caucasus and regions once included in the Ottoman Empire (www .srii.org). Publications edited by her are among several others Return to the Silk Routes: Current Scandinavian Research on Central Asia (London, 1999) and Prospects for Democracy in Central Asia (Stockholm/ London, 2005).

xvi

list of contributors

Brian Spooner teaches anthropology at the University of Pennsylvania, where he is also Museum Curator for Near Eastern Ethnology and Director of the Center for Globalization Studies in an Urban World. He has done ethnographic research in Iran, Afghanistan and Pakistan, and published on traditional technologies and cultural ecology (The Cultural Ecology of Pastoral Nomads (Addison Wesley, 1973); and Ecology in Development (United Nations University Press, 1984), as well as language and culture (Reading Nasta‘liq: Persian and Urdu Hands from 1500 to the Present (Mazda Publications, 1995 and 2007), with William L. Hanaway; and Persianate Literacy: Writing and the Social Order, edited with William L. Hanaway (University of Pennsylvanian Press, 2011 in press).

CHAPTER ONE

AFGHAN LANGUAGES IN A LARGER CONTEXT OF CENTRAL AND SOUTH ASIA Harold F. Schiffman and Brian Spooner In a workshop held at the University of Pennsylvania in December 2003, a number of scholars presented papers on language policy issues in Afghanistan and neighboring countries. They focused on topics as varied as 19th century British policy in what is now Pakistan, Soviet and post-Soviet policy in Central Asia, and in Afghanistan and Iran in the internet age. Some of the papers presented at this workshop, together with others commissioned or included since, have been brought together in this volume in an attempt to provide a better picture of the current language situation in the area: what is official and explicit, what is not official but implicit or general practice, and what the future developments might be expected to entail. In editing this collection we have adopted the position that language policy consists not just in the official, explicit, de jure statements about language that are found in constitutional provisions, laws, or administrative codes, but also in the implicit, popular, unofficial, ad hoc usages and practices that are empirically observable. That is, we are assuming there is always some kind of language policy at work—the lack of official policy is not the same as the absence of policy. The result is intended to provide an updated picture of languages and language policy in the region, as well as a clearer picture of what kinds of resources exist for those wishing to acquire any of the languages, and what is still needed. We also will attempt to determine which model of multilingualism best characterizes the various multilinguistic relationships in the area. The area in question is clearly multilingual, with no one language exclusively dominating any of the polities; in Afghanistan in particular, none of the major languages are exclusive to that nation, but are also used in various ways in other political units in the area. In general, however, readers will find a clear focus on multi-lingual conditions of the type that have been generally classified as “diglossia”

2

harold f. schiffman and brian spooner

(Ferguson 1959). In this region, as a result of the accelerating speed of sociolinguistic change over the past hundred years it might be more useful to think in terms of “shifting diglossias.” The major languages— those that have acquired a tradition of literacy—are in competition with each other for cultural value, and the hierarchy of their differential evaluation continues to change. The “H” (high) and “L” (low) varieties vie for preference, as political, religious and demographic conditions change in the wake of British, Russian, and more recently Soviet withdrawal, and capitalist, nationalist and Islamist encroachment together with the progress of globalization. Not only has the change in territorial borders, and in the technology of communication, with resulting change in communication patterns, changed the way people think about their vernacular languages, but the underlying significance of various larger frameworks of administrative and cultural literacy, in Persian (since the 9th century), and in Russian and English (since the 19th), also continues to change. Orthographic shift and reform1 is an issue that introduces an additional complication. The prevalence of multilingualism and how it is changing is another focus, whether it involves Persian, Russian, or English in addition to local, or other emerging national languages. In this introduction we review the history of Western and local thinking that continues to influence linguistic change in the region today, at both the local and the international level. We ask readers not to be too quick to translate the details into the terms they are familiar with from linguistic study in other parts of the world, but to give priority to developing a fuller regional picture. 1.1. The History of Afghan Language Study The pioneer Western investigator of the languages of Afghanistan, Georg Morgenstierne, who began his work in 1924, called Afghanistan linguistically one of the most interesting countries on earth. Linguistic work by local scholars began in the following generation. When one of us [Spooner] first met Dr. A.G. Ravan Farhadi (the author of Le Persan Parlé en Afghanistan, 1953) in Kabul in 1972, he announced that in

1

For more on this issue, see the chapter by Schlyter, this volume.

afghan languages in a larger context

3

the latest count the number of languages known in Afghanistan had reached 32 (see Farhadi 1970). Any study of the languages of Afghanistan must take into account a number of factors relating not only to the geography of the territory itself, and the historical composition of Afghan society today, but also to the way our knowledge of it has developed since the beginning of the 19th century. These factors tend not only to color but to distort any efforts to explain what is going on today. Our modern Western study of Afghanistan began with the formal visit of Mountstuart Elphinstone on behalf of the British East India Company to the then Afghan shah, Shah Shoja, in Peshawar (now Pakistan) in 1809. The British interest had been awakened by rumors of a possible collaboration between Napoleon and the Russian czar (Alexander I) to invade India from the northwest—the only feasible land entry to the Subcontinent. The British invaded Afghanistan in 1839, via the Bolan Pass and Quetta, and despite significant and heavy reverses in two Afghan wars dominated the government of Afghanistan from then until 1919 formally (though “indirectly,” i.e., without attempting to install any administrative apparatus). and informally until the British withdrawal from South Asia in 1947. During this period of over a hundred years Afghanistan became relatively isolated from the rest of the Islamic world, and barely saw any of the other wider contacts that formally administered territories such as India enjoyed during the colonial period. However, because of the strategic value of the frontier with Russia British agents and travellers compiled a rich library of material concerning the contemporary history and culture of Afghanistan, including the part that became British Baluchistan and the North West Frontier Province, and is part of Pakistan. A few scholars from other European countries, especially Germany, contributed to this endeavour. Although a number of prescriptive grammars of Persian and Pashto appeared in the 19th century, the systematic study of the languages of the area was launched by Morgenstierne with a series of publications, beginning in 1928, based on his own field research. Both the historical and the linguistic study of the area since these foundations have been conditioned by the efforts of the rulers of Afghanistan from 1880 onwards to build and maintain a viable and cohesive political identity in the face not only of local centrifugal forces, but of first English, then Russian and more recently American interests. The centripetal force of an Afghan (or even, more narrowly, Pashtun) nationalism did not begin to emerge until a century ago, and has never become

4

harold f. schiffman and brian spooner

politically significant for all classes of the society throughout the country. As a result of the British interest in the area up to 1947, the Russian until 1917, the Soviet from 1917 to 1991 and American activities in the region since 1948, and especially since 1979, there is considerable variation among the various approaches of both Western and local scholars.2 1.2. Geographical and Historical Factors In the study of the languages in and around Afghanistan we are dealing with language history and process on three scales: local communities; Persianate (or eastern-Islamic) civilization; and colonial, which has now merged into various post-colonial processes under the influence of globalization. The ways in which various factors deriving from each of these three scales of operation continue to interact makes Afghanistan a special case with regard to questions of language use. In what follows we introduce these scales and the way they impinge on each other. Readers without specialist knowledge of the area will find this information important as an introduction to the papers that follow. We hope that specialists will also find the statement useful. 1.2.1. The Issue of National and Local Identities Behind the languages we are studying lie political identities, modern states, and regional and international encumbrances that owe their current form, if not their existence, to the activities of the British and the Russians, or Soviets, since 1800. But whereas the boundaries and language policies of the other states of Central and South Asia were established entirely by the British and the Russians or Soviets, the emergence of modern Afghanistan, and of its current hierarchy of languages, has a different history. (Only the history of Iran is comparable in this regard, and it is introduced briefly below.) It is a history not well understood, or easily accessible, and the experience of Afghanistan in the recent past has been seriously misunderstood as a result. Although the city of Ghazni, in the southeast of Afghanistan, had served as the base for a major imperial episode between 975 to 1187 ad, there was no historical precedent for a specifically local state of

2

See in particular the chapters by Nawid, and by Hakala, this volume.

0

500

1000

W

CENTRAL AFRICAN REPUBLIC

CHAD

LYBIA

TURKEY

E

1500 km

S

N

DA

IA

SAUDI ARABIA

Tabriz

Zanzibar

ALB

CASPIAN SEA

S Shiraz

YEMEN

PE R GU SIA LF N

RO

OM

IRAN

Isfahan

STA

TAJIKISTAN

Kalat

New Delhi

Multan

P U N J A B

NEPAL

Hyderabad

INDIA

Amritsar Indus Ludhiana

Khotan

XINJIANG TAKLA MAKAN

Kashgar

Lahore

Hyderabad Karachi

PAKISTAN

ARABIAN SEA

MAKRAN

SISTAN

BALUCHISTAN

Kerman

Quetta

AFGHANISTAN Islamabad

Marv

Osh

KYRGYZSTAN IEN T SHAN

Konibodom Dushanbe Tursunzoda

Khujand

Shimkent

KAZAKHSTAN

Bokhara N Samarqand

UZB EKI

IST AN

Esfara’in U RZ Mashhad

TUR KM EN

Khwarazm

Map 1. Central and Southwest Asia

KENYA

EN

IRAQ

M

ETHIOPIA

RED SEA

AN

AR

GEOR GIA

AZERBAIJAN

SYRIA

TANZANIA

AN UG

SUDAN

EGYPT

MEDITERRANEAN SEA

BULGARIA

BLACK SEA

D JOR

RUSSIA

IA

CA DEC

SO M AL

ROMANIA

AN

G ZA SIN DH

BOSNIA Sarajevo

Dacca

BAY of BENGAL

BENGAL

Calcutta

BANGLADESH

CHINA

MONGOLIA

afghan languages in a larger context 5

N

6

harold f. schiffman and brian spooner

Afghanistan when the current state was established by Ahmad Shah Durrani in 1747. The appearance of a new political entity of this type, with an ethnic or tribal identity, was without precedent in the Islamic world. Although the Ottoman Empire emerged from a Turkish tribal base at the end of the thirteenth century, the Ottomans claimed to be leaders not of the Turks but of the Islamic world. Ahmad Shah claimed the title “King of the Afghans.” (We shall return below to the question of why he chose “Afghan” rather than “Pashtun.”) It is important to note also that this was still more than half a century before the arrival of any Western imperialist interests, let alone the influence of Western nationalism. When Elphinstone visited Ahmad Shah’s successor in Peshawar in 1809, the Afghan state had for fifty years been the largest empire in the region, having taken over the eastern territories of the Safavid (Iranian) Empire, and including within its territory not only Kashmir and most of what is now Pakistan, which it took from the Mughal Empire, but also large parts of what are now the Central Asian republics Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan and Tajikistan. Very soon after this date, however, it imploded as a result of internecine strife among dynastic rivals. British power, which became a major factor in the area from 1840 onwards, complicated the situation. But British power needed Afghanistan as a buffer to Russian imperial interests, and was therefore careful to make sure that it did not finally disintegrate. It appears to have been the British who began to call it Afghanistan, probably in the upper corridors of the administration in Calcutta in the 1830’s. Before this time countries in the Islamic world did not have names. Boundaries were undefined and areas that were culturally seen as having some sort of natural identity had names such as Syria (Sham), Transoxiana (Ma vara’u’l-nahr), Sindh or Punjab, but political divisions seldom matched such natural areas. (Iran is an exception. Its origin lies with the Achaemenians. It came into use to identify a high culture before Islam, under the Sasanians, but it did not take on the narrower meaning of a political entity until the colonial period.) Afghanistan has never been coterminous with any such natural areas. Geographically, it is a quilted patchwork of mountain ranges, valleys and desert plains populated by isolated settlements and fluctuating populations of nomadic pastoralists, which had never experienced any form of cultural, linguistic, or political integration beyond what connected them to the trade routes (especially “the Silk Route”) that passed through the peripheries of the area and connected it to the cities of the

afghan languages in a larger context

7

larger Islamic world, China and India—to the north and south as well as the east and west. What became Afghanistan in 1747 had been borderland territory between the Safavid Empire in Isfahan to the west, the Mughal Empire in Delhi, and the Uzbek Khanates to the north. Qandahar, the first Afghan capital (1747–1776), had changed hands more than once between the Safavids and the Mughals. Herat, still one of Afghanistan’s four major cities, changed hands between the Safavids and the Uzbeks, and was part of Iran as late as 1863. Before the advent of Islam in the 7th century ad, the area had since the 6th century bc formed the eastern marches of the Iranian world (i.e., the world dominated by tribal populations speaking Iranian languages) containing the sites of much important Iranian cultural legend. What became Afghanistan in the 18th century had been a shatter zone between the major political centers of earlier history and sheltered refugee communities from all sides, including Mongols. In 1880 the British recruited a surviving collateral member of the Afghan royal family, Abdu’l-Rahman Khan, from his exile north of the Oxus, and placed him on the throne in Kabul. He ruled for 21 years, and with the aid of methods that would have upstaged Draco (and created trouble for the British Indian Government when they reached the ears of Queen Victoria via her relatives in St. Petersburg) created the basis for a unitary nation-state in which all inhabitants, whatever their language, or cultural heritage, were persuaded to think of themselves first not only as Muslim but as Afghan. In 1893, just over half way through Abdu’l-Rahman’s reign, the British drew the boundary which would divide British India from Afghanistan. It was known as the Durand Line after Sir Mortimer Durand who was commissioned to draw it. The Durand Line ran through the middle of the territories that were then and now inhabited by Pashtuns. Neither Abdu’l-Rahman nor any of his successors ever ratified it, but they acquiesced in its imposition by the British. Since 1947 it has been a source of serious disagreement between Afghanistan and Pakistan. Pashtuns (pronounced Pakhtun in eastern dialects) who in South Asian countries are known as Pathans, were known by others as Afghans—before Abdu’l-Rahman reworked this word as the national identity of all inhabitants of Afghanistan. Afghan is not a Pashto word; it is probably Persian in origin (cf. Morgenstierne 1979:28). This should not surprise us. Other tribal populations in the region

8

harold f. schiffman and brian spooner

are similarly known by blanket terms that may not be native to them, viz. Baluch, Kurd, which are Iranian in form, if not in origin.3 Over the past millennium Persian has been the language of literacy, either uniquely, or par excellence, throughout Central Asia and far beyond, in all directions. The man who created the new empire in 1747 that has now become the nation-state of Afghanistan, Ahmad Shah Durrani, was Pashtun, as were all his successors (save one short-lived usurper in 1929) down to the recently deceased Muhammad Zaher Shah. But his administration, like the administration of all surrounding states, was conducted in Persian. In 1776 his son and successor, Timur, moved his capital from Qandahar (which shares with only one other city, Ghazni, the distinction of being an entirely Pashtun city) out of Pashtun territory to Kabul. Kabul is located in eastern Afghanistan at the foot of a major pass that carries the historical trade route from India to central Asia over the ranges that extend the Hindu Kush into the Paropamisus and Koh-i Baba mountains—the ranges that separate the southern and northern halves of modern Afghanistan. From that date onwards, relations between the Pashtun dynasty that continued to rule and the plurality of Pashtun tribes has been ambivalent. Timur imported a non-Pashtun, Persian-speaking bureaucracy, and both the dynasty and its entourage became similarly Persian speaking. Pashtun nationalistic sentiments began to influence national policy in the 1930s. Starting around that time a small amount was added to the salaries of civil servants who passed a (not very demanding) examination in Pashto. In the constitution of 1964 Persian was named the ‘official’ language and Pashto the ‘national language.’ The name of the Persian language as used in Afghanistan was changed from farsi (which means the language of the province of Fars in southwestern Iran, and has been the name in most common use throughout the eastern Islamic world over the past millennium) to dari (which also has a long history, and means the language of the court). But not very much progress was made in the advancement of Pashto as a language of either speech or literacy outside the Pashto-speaking tribes of the south and a few of the Pashtun colonies that Abdu’l-Rahman settled in the north. Since 1978, language has been further politicized. All of the

3 In English, after all, we call the Deutsche Germans, the Hellenoi Greeks, and we used to call the Iranians Persians.

afghan languages in a larger context

9

languages of Afghanistan continue to be conditioned by the historical influence of Persian administrative and literary usage.4 1.3. Larger Perspectives These historical trajectories illustrate some of the inter-ethnic problems behind the current language situation in Afghanistan and the region, but do nothing to explain the cultural status of Persian (generally known in Persian as farsi, but in Afghanistan since the constitution of 1964 as dari, and in Tajikistan since 1928 as tojiki). For this we must look at a much larger historical picture. The Persian language became a language of administration under the Achaemenian Empire between 559 bc and 321 bc, in the form of Old Persian and written in cuneiform (Stolper and Tavernier 2007). It went through a typical process of historical change and development as the language of administration in the succeeding Iranian Empires of the Parthians (247 bc–224 ad) and the Sasanians (224–651 ad), during which time we know it as Middle Persian or Pahlavi and written in a simplified form of the Aramaic script. It was then (in the middle of the 7th century) eclipsed for a period of two centuries following the Arab conquest that gradually integrated the region into a new Arab-Islamic empire. When it reemerged, as New Persian, in the middle of the 9th century, it was written in the Arabic script, but it continued to symbolize the culture (and perhaps the remembered glory) of the pre-Islamic regal courts and administrations, especially their pomp and circumstance. Significantly, Persian reemerged not in what is now modern Iran, but in the cities in and around the northern and western borders of what is now Afghanistan. The implication for the modern non-Pashtun Afghan nationalist is to ask the question: which is the real successor state to the empires of Cyrus and Darius, of Ardashir and Anushirvan? Iran or Afghanistan? The state on the western side of what in western geography we call the Iranian Plateau has not been a strong empire with a great capital city since the Safavid dynasty (1501–1722) ruled from Isfahan. The Safavid dynasty was destroyed by an invasion of Afghans! If events had played out only a little differently in the 19th century under the British (both in Iran

4

See in particular the chapters by Nawid and by Hakala, this volume.

10

harold f. schiffman and brian spooner

and in Afghanistan) Afghanistan might now be known as Iran, and Iran might now be known by some other term, perhaps Kurdistan, or Baluchistan,5 or another name which, like Afghanistan, would be derived from a tribal appellation. It is important to remember that none of these terms had any ethno-political significance before the late 19th century—only the memories of past power and glory, and military prowess. The ethnopolitical significance began to percolate into the area as a result of contact with Europe in the middle of the 19th century, and began to be important in Afghanistan in the 1920s. After the reemergence of Persian as the language of diplomacy, administration, and belles lettres in the courts of the power-centers that emerged in the early Islamic period (whose incumbents were now known as sultan) over eleven and a half centuries ago, and for trade between them, literacy became equated with Persian for all functions except those directly related to Islamic law and its interpretation. It did not matter what one’s native language was. All interaction that was for the record was either written in Persian, or (if the occasion called for oral interaction) spoken in Persian. This special function of Persian was facilitated by the memory of the authority and protocols of the earlier empires and at its greatest extent was valid in cities from as far west as Sarajevo under the Ottomans to the Takla Makan Basin under the Uzbeks and from the Turkic oases of Central Asia to the Nizams of Hyderabad in southern India. There are even records of wealthy young Venetians being sent to the Levant to study Persian in the 14th century. Persian was also used along the trade routes deep into central and eastern China under the Yuan dynasty, and has been taught at least intermittently in mosques in central China down to the present. Persian therefore worked as a koine (i.e., similar in function to Hellenistic Greek a millennium earlier), and was remarkable for its linguistic stability and standardization over a vast area from southeastern Europe to central China—which is obviously related to its high cultural value as the language of literacy among people most of whom did not speak it at home. Afghanistan was in the middle of this area. However, there was of course some change. Handwriting styles changed, and there were changes in preferred literary genres and in rhetorical style. Turkish, which in its Uzbek form had been a language of literacy

5

See the article by Spooner on Balochi, this volume.

afghan languages in a larger context

11

in various scripts in Central Asia before it gave way to Persian, as the Saljuq Turks, the Mongols and later the Uzbeks converted to Islam and became the rulers of major power centers in the eastern Persianate world, finally in the 15th century began gradually to replace Persian in the west. This replacement, however, occurred in a highly Persianized form, known as Ottoman Turkish, in the Arabic script. The next language to appear in writing was Pashto (again in the Arabic script) in the 16th century, but only for belles lettres. Urdu followed in north India, but had begun earlier in the Deccan. Then Sindhi began to be written, facilitated by the British. In 1837 Urdu was formally adopted by the British, in place of Persian, as the language of interaction between the Government (which from then on conducted its affairs in English) and the local population.6 Other languages, like Balochi7 and the Dardic languages were still unwritten when Protestant Christian missionaries arrived in the late 19th century. But even though much has been written and printed in Balochi since the establishment of the Balochi Academy in Quetta in 1957, Baloch in Iran who were fully literate and well educated in Persian claimed they could not read books and newspapers printed in Balochi. For them, reading meant reading Persian. In India Persian continued to be taught not only in traditional madrasas, but in modern schools, with a status comparable to Latin in England. It ceased to be a required subject in India and Pakistan in the early 1960s, about the same time that Latin ceased to be required for entrance into Oxbridge. There is no evidence that it ever occurred to Ahmad Shah, when he launched the new state in 1747, that his administration should be conducted in the language of his own community, Pashto, even though Pashto had been a language of literacy to at least some degree for at least a century, probably more. When his son and successor Timur moved the capital to Kabul in 1776 he developed his bureaucracy with Persian-writing, Turkish-speaking Qizilbash left behind from Nader Shah’s Indian expedition in 1738, even though they were Shia. Both the interest in Pashto literacy and the growth of Pashtun nationalism were hampered by the political fragmentation of the Pashtuns that paradoxically had resulted from the establishment of a Pashtun dynasty. But the idea that Pashto should be used at least on an equal basis with

6 7

The article by Diamond (this volume) is pertinent here. Spooner, this volume.

12

harold f. schiffman and brian spooner

Persian has been building since the 1920’s, and it was included in the constitutions of 1933 and 1964. “In 1936 and in the constitution of 1964 it was reaffirmed that Pashto, alongside Dari, should function as an official language” (Miran 1977:1). 1.4. The Contribution of This Volume The following chapters provide detail on each of the major languages that are politically significant in the region. The first section focuses on Afghanistan with special attention to the relationship between Pashto and Persian, the language it shares with Iran and Tajikistan. In the first chapter Senzil Nawid traces the history of the relationship among the three major languages—Pashto, Persian and Uzbek—from the mid 18th century when Pashtun leaders launched the new Afghan state (using Persian as the language of administration) through the period of rising Pashtun and other nationalisms to the present. She shows how despite modern Afghanistan’s ethnic and linguistic diversity and the problems of reconstructing a sense of national identity in the wake of thirty years of civil war, there are recognizable processes of change in language use which map easily onto the political history. In the next chapter Walter Hakala introduces the reader to the current state of the literature on Pashto and its use in the Pashtun communities that since 1893 have been divided between Afghanistan and India (later Pakistan). He discusses the lack of a standard written or spoken form in either country, the variety of its dialects and the difference in script between Afghanistan and Pakistan. In the last chapter of this section Brian Spooner discusses the differences among the various spoken and written forms of Persian and the significance of its renaming in Afghanistan and Tajikistan and the nature of the current relationship between Persian and the other languages in the region. Section Two deals with the Turkic languages in the northern part of the region. William Fierman’s chapter on Kazakhstan focuses on attempts to reverse the shift from Kazakh to Russian, which occurred under Soviet domination because of in-migration of Russian and other non-Kazakh speakers and the Russification of the education system and the administration. Birgit Schlyter’s chapter, on Uzbekistan, deals with similar problems in a neighboring republic, complicated in this case by an attempted reform of orthography. Finally, a second chapter by Fierman takes up the fate of Uzbek minorities in the other Central

afghan languages in a larger context

13

Asian republics. Since the Central Asian republics were established according to the Soviet nationalities policy in the 1920s, differences between the various forms of spoken Turkic were standardized and reified. Now those standards complicate the language policies of the region and ethnic relations within and between the republics. Section Three deals with the south of the region, especially with Pashto and Urdu in Pakistan and the significance of Panjabi and Balochi. First Robert Nichols traces the history of public decisionmaking in relation to Pashto in Pakistan’s North West Frontier Province (recently renamed Khyber Pushtunkhwa), where it once shared functions with Persian, but now competes with Urdu. The following chapter, by Jeffrey M. Diamond, deals with the historical background to the modern relationship between Panjabi, which was historically the majority language in the Panjab (now divided between India and Pakistan), though without a standard spoken or written form, and Urdu, which became the successor to Persian as the major language of administration and literacy, boosted by a British administrative decision in 1835. In the last chapter in this section Brian Spooner takes up the question of Balochi, a language spoken in four of the countries of the area, and beyond, in the Persian Gulf, reviews its history and current significance. The book ends with a review of language teaching materials and other resources on the issue of language policy in the area by Cynthia Groff, and a brief concluding chapter by Harold F. Schiffman summarizing the situation, and indicating where further research is most needed. 1.5. Models of Multilingualism When one contemplates the fact of multilingualism in this region, it is useful to consider what models of multilingualism there exist that this area can be compared to. Various possibilities come to mind—the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the Russian Empire, the British empire. In all of these, there has always been a superordinate language used by the rulers, the courts, the educational system, and religious institutions, but local languages found in restricted territories of the larger union have also found their niche. We can refer to these different areas of usage as ‘domains.’ One of the most useful sociolinguistic models that has been developed to categorize these kinds of situations is that

14

harold f. schiffman and brian spooner

of diglossia (or even tri- or multiglossia), first elaborated by Ferguson (1959)8 and then extended by Fishman (1967).9 Though some researchers of the area have expressed their reservations about the term ‘diglossia,’ or feel that it is not extensive enough within some of the languages of the area to characterize the variation found there as such,10 no other model of multilingualism works as well, given the fact that both the Fergusonian version and especially the Fishman ‘extension’ of the model capture many aspects of the complexity of multilingualism in the area. Since a number of studies in this volume attempt to deal with it in both practical and theoretical terms, it will be useful to review here the history of this analytical concept. Charles Ferguson originally elaborated on the idea of diglossia (1959, 435) in the following terms: DIGLOSSIA is a relatively stable language situation in which, in addition to the primary dialects of the language (which may include a standard or regional standards), there is a very divergent, highly codified (often grammatically more complex) superposed variety, the vehicle of a large and respected body of written literature, either of an earlier period or in another speech community, which is learned largely by formal education and is used for most written and formal spoken purposes but is not used by any section of the community for ordinary conversation.

The notion that diglossia could also be used to characterize other multilingual situations where the H and L varieties were not genetically related, such as Hebrew (as H) and Yiddish (as L) in Europe, was developed by Fishman (1967), and research on diglossias since have

8 The term ‘diglossie’ was earlier used by Marçais (1930) to characterize Arabic, but the term did not gain currency until Ferguson elaborated on it. 9 This discussion of diglossia is based largely on Schiffman’s 1997 chapter in Coulmas 1997 (The Handbook of Sociolinguistics) published by Blackwell, and used with their permission. 10 Part of the reason that some researchers find only ‘minimal’ diglossia in certain languages is that the model they are influenced by is that of Arabic, where we find the most extreme diglossia (between Classical Arabic and its spoken dialects) existing in any language of the world. Compared to Arabic, therefore, other languages’ diglossia is minimal, or certainly not as extensive. But diglossia is not an ‘either-or’ situation—it is variable, and though it is hard to measure and quantify, it is clear that in any language where the literary version is incomprehensible to illiterate speakers, who only know the spoken variety, we clearly have a case of diglossia.

afghan languages in a larger context

15

focused to a great extent, though not entirely, on characterizing various kinds of extended diglossias.11 Since 1959 research on diglossia has concentrated on a number of variables and important questions relating to function, prestige, literary heritage, acquisition, standardization, stability, grammar, lexicon, phonology, the difference between diglossia and standard-with-dialects, extent of distribution in space, time, and in various language families, and finally what engenders diglossia and what conditions favor its development. This literature may be briefly summarised as follows: A. Function The functional differentiation of discrepant varieties in a diglossia is fundamental, thus distinguishing it from bilingualism. H and L are used for different purposes, and native speakers of the community would find it odd (even ludicrous, or outrageous) if anyone used H in an L domain, or L in an H domain. B. Prestige In most diglossias examined, H was more highly valued (had greater prestige) than was L. The H variety is that of ‘great’ literature, canonical religious texts, ancient poetry, of public speaking, of pomp and circumstance. The L-variety is felt to be less worthy, corrupt, ‘broken’, vulgar, undignified, etc. A good example of this in this volume are the articles by Nawid and by Hakala on the extended diglossia between Persian (a.k.a. Dari) and Pashto in Afghanistan. The latter is clearly the commonest spoken language, but lacks the prestige of Persian/Dari, so has been relegated to lower status off and on throughout history. C. Literary Heritage In most diglossic languages, the literature is all in H-variety; no written uses of L exist, except for ‘dialect’ poetry, advertising, or ‘low’ restricted genres. In most diglossic languages, the H-variety is thought to be the language; the L-variety is sometimes denied to exist, or claims are made that it is only spoken by lesser mortals (servants, women, children). 11

In this volume, almost every chapter deals with a Fishman-type diglossia of some sort, whether it is Uzbek or Kazakh and Russian, Persian and Urdu, Panjabi, or Balochi, or some other combination, also involving English.

16

harold f. schiffman and brian spooner

In some traditions (e.g., Shakespeare’s plays). L-variety would be used to show certain characters as rustic, comical, uneducated, etc. D. Acquisition L-variety is the variety learned first; it is the mother tongue, the language of the home. H-variety is acquired through schooling. Where linguists would therefore insist that the L-variety is primary, native scholars tend to see only the H-variety as the language.12 E. Standardization H is strictly standardized; grammars, dictionaries, canonical texts, etc. exist for it, written by native grammarians. L is rarely standardized in the traditional sense, or if grammars exist, are written by outsiders. The article in this collection by Hakala deals with the problem of variability within Pashto, with no overarching ‘standard’ that is clearly accepted by all users. F. Stability Diglossias are generally stable, persisting for centuries or even millennia. Occasionally L-varieties gain domains and displace the H-variety, but H only displaces L if H is the mother tongue of an elite, usually in a neighboring polity. The classic example of stable diglossias in this part of the world is that of Arabic, with its H-variety the language of the Qur’an and other great literature, while L-variety spoken dialects are used for less prestigeful purposes. This situation has remained stable for centuries, and will probably continue, given the high value associated with Qu’ranic Arabic, not a syllable of which can be altered without dire consequences. L-varieties may expand their usage if they can move into newer domains, such as popular journalism, the movies, or talk-shows on television, but traditional domains of the H-variety remain inviolable.

12 In the studies in this volume, Persian is the language that was dominant in almost every situation until the late medieval/early modern period, then Russian in Central Asia, and English in South Asia tended to replace it.

afghan languages in a larger context

17

G. Grammar The grammars of H are usually more complex than the grammars of the L-variety. They can have more complicated tense systems, gender systems, agreement, and syntactic structures than the L-variety. H. Lexicon Vocabulary is often somewhat shared between H and L, but generally there is differentiation; H has vocabulary that L lacks, and vice-versa. The H-variety may exhibit large amounts of vocabulary borrowed from another H-variety, such as Sanskrit or Arabic, which the L-variety may lack. I. Phonology Two kinds of systems are discerned. One is where H and L share the same phonological elements, but H may have more complicated morphophonemics. Or, H is a special subset of the L-variety inventory.13 A second type where H has contrasts that L lacks, systematically substituting some other phoneme for the lacking contrast; but L may ‘borrow’ elements as tatsamas (i.e., in the same form as the H-variety), using the H-variety contrast in that particular item, but not in general. J. Difference between Diglossia and Standard-with-Dialects In diglossia, no one speaks the H-variety as a mother tongue, only the L-variety. In the Standard-with-dialects situation, some speakers speak H as a mother tongue, while others speak L-varieties as a mother tongue and acquire H as a second system. Thus in Pakistan (cf. Diamond’s paper) Urdu is spoken as a mother-tongue by a small percentage of the population, but all other citizens learn it as a second language, and often do not learn to read their own language, even if texts in it exist. This seems to be the case for Balochi as well.14 K. Distribution of Diglossia in Language Families, Space, and Time Diglossia is not limited to any geographical area or language family, and diglossias have existed for centuries or millennia (Arabic, West

13 But it is often possible to observe that speakers sometimes fail to keep the two systems separate. 14 See Spooner chapter on Balochi, this volume.

18

harold f. schiffman and brian spooner

Asia, South Asia). Most diglossias involve literacy, but oral diglossias are also conceivable. L. Development in Time Diglossias usually do not spring up overnight; they take time to develop. Diglossia emerges in the presence of an ancient or prestigious literature, composed in the H-variety, which the more influential elites of the society wish to preserve as such. Literacy is usually restricted to a small elite. When conditions require universal literacy in H, pedagogical problems ensue. These three factors, especially if linked with religion, make diglossia extremely stable in Arabic and other linguistic cultures in South and West Asia. 1.5.1. Power and Prestige Diglossic languages (and diglossic language situations) are usually described as consisting of two (or more) varieties that coexist in a speech community; the domains of linguistic behavior are parceled out in a kind of complementary distribution. By ‘domains’ what is meant is socially-constructed speech situations, sometimes also associated with a particular ‘kind’ of language, such as religious usage. These domains are usually ranked in a kind of hierarchy, from highly valued (H) to less valued (L). Thus in South and Southwest Asia, English occupies the H-variety niche because it has the greatest prestige in the area (and internationally as well), and the speech community that has been educated in it is economically dominant, whether under British colonialism, or in independent India or Pakistan. In Central Asia Russian filled this niche, even though attempts may now be being made to replace it, since before the Russian Empire established hegemony in Central Asia, Persian was the H-variety, and in Tajikistan still is. 1.5.2. Classical vs. Extended Diglossia There are many attempts to propose terminologies for a taxonomy of diglossias. Ferguson’s original (1959) proposal (also known sometimes as ‘classical’) is contrasted with Fishman’s ‘extended’ (1967) diglossia. Most researchers recognize important differences in the dynamics of societies characterized by the (at least) two basic kinds of diglossia. Fishman has also proposed a useful distinction between ‘consensu-

afghan languages in a larger context

19

ally different languages’ and ‘consensual dialects’, since there are often questions about whether the H-variety in a particular diglossia is in fact the historical ancestor of the L-variety, unless the members of the linguistic culture consent to the notion of ancestry, or at least do not contest it.15 Fishman’s 1980 taxonomy of “kinds of linguistic relationships between H’s and L’s” is worth stating in full: A. H as classical, L as vernacular, the two being genetically related, e.g., classical and vernacular Arabic (Marçais 1930), classical or classicized Greek (Katharevousa) and demotiki, Latin and French among francophone scholars and clergy in earlier centuries, classical and vernacular Tamil, classical and vernacular Sinhalese, Sanskrit and Hindi, classical Mandarin and modern Pekinese, etc. B. H as classical, L as vernacular, the two not being genetically related, e.g., Loshn koydesh (textual Hebrew/Aramaic) and Yiddish (Fishman, 1976) (or any one of the several dozen other non-semitic Jewish L’s, as long as the latter operate in vernacular functions rather than in traditional literacy-related ones (Weinreich, 1980). The diglossia involving Pashto in both Afghanistan and Pakistan, with Persian (Dari) as H and Pashto as L is another example.16 C. H as written/formal-spoken and L as vernacular, the two being genetically unrelated to each other; e.g. Spanish and Guaraní in Paraguay (Rubin, 1972). English (or French) and various vernaculars in postcolonial areas throughout the world. D. H as written/formal-spoken and L as vernacular, the two being genetically related to each other. Here only significantly discrepant written/ formal-spoken and informal-spoken varieties will be admitted, such that without schooling the written/formal-spoken cannot even be understood (otherwise every dialect-standard situation in the world would qualify within this rubric), e.g., High German and Swiss German, standard spoken Pekinese [Putonghua] and Cantonese, Standard English and Caribbean Creole. (Fishman 1980, 4).

These differences often have to do primarily with power relationships in the societies characterized by them. Various scholars have proposed that extended diglossia is usually unstable, unless certain

15 In South Asia, for example, we have L-varieties associated with H-varieties that are not in fact their closest genetic ancestor; for example, eastern ‘varieties ‘of Hindi (Bihari dialects, etc.) that have long been noted to have descended from eastern apabhramsas but are treated by their speakers as being dialects of standard Hindi; one could make the case that Sri Lanka Tamil may also be more closely related to Malayalam than it is to Tamil, but not in the minds of its speakers. 16 See also Nichols’ article on Pashto in the Northwest Frontier Province here.

20

harold f. schiffman and brian spooner

conditions having to do with power are not met. Classical diglossia, usually thought to be more stable than extended diglossia, can also be shown to be unstable under certain conditions. It may also be the case that the type of diglossia in question may also itself change, i.e. a narrow kind of diglossia may be replaced by a broad form without much overt awareness on the part of the speech community. In the area being dealt with in this volume, the diglossic situation can be seen to have changed over time, as colonial languages have been superimposed on the region (English in South Asia, Russian in the former Soviet Union), and now with the collapse of the latter (and of course independence in South Asia) the domains controlled by English and Russian are to some extent in flux, or at least being challenged. Other languages also had H-variety status in the region, in particular Persian and Urdu, and their status in the region may change, as contributors to this volume such as Diamond, Fierman, Nichols and Schlyter have attempted to show. 1.5.3. Diglossia, Language Shift, and Reversing Language Shift Diglossia has often been noted as a factor in language shift, especially in speech communities where a minority language is in a diglossic relationship with a majority language. Fishman (1967, 36) had previously noted that [B]ilingualism without diglossia tends to be transitional both in terms of the linguistic repertoires of speech communities as well as in terms of the speech varieties involved per se. Without separate though complementary norms and values to establish and maintain functional separatism of the speech varieties, that language or variety which is fortunate enough to be associated with the predominant drift of social forces tends to displace the other(s).

As the region undergoes more changes, we may now see attempts to reverse language shift, as both Schlyter and Fierman attempt to show in their papers17—where certain H-domains had been monopolized by Russian during the Soviet period, such that Kazakhs, Uzbeks, or others could not even imagine using any other language for purposes of higher education, etc. we now see attempts to reverse this and recapture these domains for titular languages.

17

Chapters 5 and 6, this volume.

afghan languages in a larger context

21

1.5.4. The Register Issue When certain languages lack registers for scientific and technical domains, and therefore attempt to create them, problems arise. Users educated in an H-variety such as English, French, Russian or some other LOWC (Language of Wider Communication) are loath to give these up and adopt vocabulary from another source, even if it is their ‘mother tongue,’ since the vocabulary created for this in the mother tongue may be as strange as that of a ‘foreign’ language. This issue is particularly pertinent in this volume for the former Soviet republics (cf. the articles by Schlyter and by Fierman) as those republics attempt to shake off the yoke of Russian and develop their own scientific and technological registers, or switch to some other LOWC, such as English. 1.5.4.1. Definitions of Register The concept of linguistic register has been described by Trudgill (1983:101) as follows: Linguistic varieties that are linked . . . to occupations, professions or topics have been termed registers. The register of law, for example, is different from the register of medicine, which in turn is different from the language of engineering—and so on. Registers are usually characterized solely by vocabulary differences; either by the use of particular words, or by the use of words in a particular sense.

Registers are simply a rather special case of a particular kind of language being produced by the social situation. Halliday, McIntosh and Strevens (1964) devote a long section to register in their 1964 work. They also refer to register as ‘distinguished by use.’ Perhaps it would be an improvement on Trudgill’s definition if we expand the definition of register to include, in many cases, a preference (or even a dispreference) for particular syntactic patterns or rhetorical devices. A close examination of many different kinds of registers shows that they tend to prefer, or eschew: – – – – –

The passive voice Metaphors Imperative verbs; Sexist or racist language; Short sentences, a preference for certain lexical devices (such as acronyms or blends) and more established lexical items and resources, such as Greco-Latin vocabulary (western European languages) or other classical languages, e.g., Sanskrit or Chinese.

22

harold f. schiffman and brian spooner

When we say ‘registers prefer’ etc. we mean, of course, that decisionmakers who control the standards of the register prefer or disprefer, and may explicitly state these preferences in style-manuals for various journals, etc. Some researchers have noted that register is related to uses rather than users. Scherer and Giles (1979, 51-3) devote two pages to a description of both differences in lexicon and the ‘‘complex, unusual semantic relations amongst perfectly commonplace words’’ found in certain registers. Let us tentatively propose the following re-definition of Register: A set of specialized vocabulary and preferred (or dispreferred) syntactic and rhetorical devices/structures, used by specific socio-professional groups for special purposes. A register is a property or characteristic of a language, and not of an individual or a class of speakers. Crucial for our discussion of register in the context of multilingualism and language policy is the fact that some languages lack certain registers: in western industrial societies they may lack ethno-scientific registers (folk taxonomies for classifying plants, animals or natural phenomena), or specialized poetic registers, specialized politeness systems, or registers for speaking in a trance.

In pre-industrial societies languages lack legal, technical, scientific, and medical registers and subvarieties of these (for example, the register that airline pilots use to communicate with air traffic controllers). Such languages either function without such registers, which relegates them to a marginal status within a larger multilingual society, or the members of such linguistic cultures acquire proficiency in these registers in other languages. In many postcolonial societies, of course, the registers they acquire proficiency in are registers of English or another ex-colonial language. What this illustrates, of course, is that registers for a particular language may be di- or even tri-glossic: certain registers are in the domain of the H variety (religion, literature, ethno-history), some in the domain of the L-variety (conversation, jokes/stories, intimacy/ courtship, auto-mechanical, building/construction trades etc.) and certain registers (high-tech, higher-education) may be in the domain of a totally different language. 1.5.4.2. Development of New Registers As we have already noted, users educated in an H-variety such as English, French, Russian (or another LOWC) are reluctant to give these up and adopt vocabulary from another source, for the kinds of

afghan languages in a larger context

23

reasons noted above. Aside from this, however, there is also the issue that increasingly, the discourse of science is a ‘global’ one, and those scientists who do not work in an established international language such as Russian, French, German, or English, will find themselves outside the discourse, and unable to keep up with developments being described in one of these languages. In fact, even in France, where the government tries to shore up the prestige of French and encourage its use as widely as possible, some scientists prefer to publish in English. In 1989, the editors of the various journals published by the Institut Pasteur, one of the oldest and most prestigious scientific institutes in the world, decided to publish henceforward in English only. The French government was not happy, but the editors noted that only about 5% of the articles submitted to them were in French, so switching to English exclusively seemed to be the realistic thing to do (Markham 1989). Another issue in creating new registers is that, as we noted above, new registers are created by the users and developers of the particular discipline or subdiscipline that they are working in. Language purists always want to show that their language is capable of being used for scientific purposes (i.e., it is sophisticated enough and ‘intellectual’ enough to serve this purpose) but what this entails is creating vocabulary for everything that has already been developed in another language. This is a daunting task, not only for the committees tasked with the job of translating (usually) the vocabulary and terminology of another language, but also a daunting task for the users, who must now become comfortable with terminology provided to them, not by users or scientific researchers in their field, but by language pundits intent on creating vocabulary that is wholly based on indigenous sources. Earlier in the industrial revolution, this was less difficult, and nations like Japan that decided in modernize beginning in the 19th century were able to adapt by borrowing much of the vocabulary already in use in other, more ‘modern’ languages. But ‘late modernizers’ often resist borrowing since their languages are already swamped with loanwords and loan-translations, so they are faced with an almost insurmountable task—create totally new terminology, and convince their own people to adopt and use it. But those scientists already trained in a LOWC such as English or French often do not see the utility of disconnecting themselves from a global discourse in their discipline, in order to further the agenda of language purists. In this volume, we find that attempts to create scientific and technical registers for languages

24

harold f. schiffman and brian spooner

like Persian, Urdu and Pashto are facing an uphill battle, as they must compete with already established languages of wider communication such as Russian and English. But of course the reliance on English for science and technology means that diglossia is maintained and reinforced, and will probably continue to be maintained, and not just in India. English is also important in Pakistan, Iran, Afghanistan and elsewhere in the world of science. For Central Asia and the former republics of the USSR, the struggle to replace Russian in science and technology will therefore not be easy, for the same reasons that eliminating English in South Asia has not been successful. 1.5.5. Diglossia and the Linguistic Culture That Maintains It Speech communities have belief systems about their language—origin myths, beliefs about ‘good’ and ‘bad’ language, taboos, shibboleths, and so on. These beliefs are part of the social conditions that affect the maintenance and transmission of that language. Thus, the fact that a language is diglossic may actually be a feature of the linguistic culture of the area where that language is used, rather than of the language per se. The fact that diglossia (of the ‘classical’ Fergusonian type) is widespread in South, Southwest, and Central Asia may then be attributed to general cultural attitudes about language, rather than just an accidental feature due to some quirk of history. The introduction of another variety that dominates the H domains makes the situation more complex, i.e., we may then be dealing with what we should perhaps refer to as ‘triglossia.’ The situation in Pakistan now involves local languages (e.g., Brahui and Siraiki, as well as Pashto, Punjabi, Sindhi, and Balochi), and superordinate H-varieties such as Urdu, and English. The working of linguistic culture is also obvious in the attitudes the British brought to their South Asian colonies, as Diamond shows in the way they dealt with Punjabi (this volume), which they did not consider to be a ‘language of literacy,’ so they instead chose to replace Persian with Urdu in India and what is now Pakistan. 1.5.5.1. Diglossia and Literacy In a society where literacy is not universal, not all speakers control the use of the school-imparted H-variety. This does not mean that illiterates have the option of using the L variety in H-variety domains; rather, the expectation is that they will remain silent rather than

afghan languages in a larger context

25

exhibit inappropriate linguistic norms. Their linguistic behavior is in fact restricted to the L domains, and use of H domains is de facto the monopoly of the educated few.18 In the area in question, the H-variety may be so poorly understood, both by students and teachers, that an L-variety language may in fact be used as a language of explanation, because without it, the students would not understand anything. This phenomenon is also well-known in the region under study in this volume; one example is the Taliban schools of the Deobandi movement, where Arabic is the language of study, but where explanation by the teacher will be made in Pashto or other local languages. Other examples where English, Urdu, or Russian is the H-variety in question can probably be adduced. This phenomenon is often ignored, since the use of an L-variety for explanation is not officially sanctioned, and teachers may actually deny that they do this. 1.5.5.2. Shifting Domains and Diglossia While diglossia as a fact of linguistic culture may be stable, the distribution of domains reserved for one variety or other can vary; the dominance of a particular domain by a particular variety can shift, with one variety encroaching on domains previously restricted to another. In journalism, especially in political cartoons, etc. one also sees a shift from H to L in many linguistic cultures. In many of them, the development of television has opened up a domain that has become almost exclusively that of the L variety, especially in ‘live’ interviews, talk shows, game shows, sports reporting, etc. where use of H would seem stilted and unnatural. The same may be true in the language of the film and in other journalistic domains. Cartoons and humor in general, for example, may sound unnatural if not written in the L-variety. 1.5.5.3. Diglossia and Power and Solidarity Brown and Gilman (1960) introduced the notion that the use of certain pronouns (epitomized as T and V) can be an expression of power and/or solidarity. Rubin (1972) extended the analogy of T and V pronouns to the use of L and H varieties in Paraguay, a supposedly ‘bilingual’ linguistic culture in which the two languages, Spanish and

18 See the chapters by Diamond and Nichols, this volume, especially for the treatment of Pashto and Punjabi.

26

harold f. schiffman and brian spooner

Guaraní, are in an extended diglossic relationship. In many of the linguistic cultures discussed here, the use (or misuse) of L and H varieties also can raise some of these same issues. Certainly the use of L where H is expected (or vice versa), constitutes a violation of communicative competence rules. If an outsider addresses a hotel clerk in Quetta in Sindhi, or begins a conversation with a well-dressed stranger in Peshawar in Pashto, these are violations of social norms that stem from an inadequate understanding of the linguistic culture and what constitutes ‘communicative competence’ in the area. Brown and Gilman (1960) established the notion that use of T pronouns (the familiar, non-respect form) can have several social meanings. Reciprocal use of T by equals expresses solidarity, but between non-equals the giver of T is putting him/herself in a position of power, and the receiver is expected to respond with V. Similarly, reciprocal V usage implies mutual respect and social distance; any non-reciprocal use of these pronouns is an expression of a differential of power. As Rubin demonstrated, in diglossic situations the use of H or L varieties in a given social exchange (as distinguished from societal patterned usage as a whole) may be seen as expressions of the same kind of T/V situation. The use of L may be an expression of solidarity and may not be offered to speakers whose social position is superior or distant. Similarly H may be the only variety appropriate in a given situation because the use of L would imply a solidarity that is only reserved for members of a particular in-group. In-group members may then feel insulted because the use of an L-variety implies that they are not educated, and therefore do not know and control the H-variety. 1.6. The Issue of Implementation The question of language policy implementation is one that is typically thought of as problematical in some way—sometimes referred to as the ‘Achilles’ heel’ of language policy (Schiffman 1996)—since the failure of a language policy to have the outcomes that language planners wish can often be attributed to poor implementation of the policy. Frequently, language policy makers are novices at language planning, and tend to view it as something that can be, or should be, easily implemented—a few ‘broad strokes’ to give the basic outlines of

afghan languages in a larger context

27

the policy, and the matter is settled.19 We, however, tend to see implementation as the most problematical area of language planning, since it involves many details and variables, and it may also involve taking a ‘long view’ of the process that may not outlast the impatience of politicians seeking ‘quick fixes’ for a problem. As far as the implementation of language policy in Afghanistan and its neighbors is concerned, it seems quite clear that many of the problems with language policy in the area are problems of implementation, especially if policies are ‘handed down’ from above (so-called ‘top-down’ language policy) rather than designed to meet local needs, as determined by consultation with users at the grass-roots level.20 The recent move to prioritize Kazakh as the official language of Kazakhstan, and to demote Russian to secondary status illustrates the fragility of implementation plans that are not carefully thought out (Fierman Chapter 4). References Brown, Roger and A. Gilman. (1960). “The pronouns of power and solidarity,” repr. in Fishman, J. (ed.), 1968, 1970, pp. 252-75. Coulmas, Florian. (1997). The Handbook of Sociolinguistics. London: Basil Blackwell, Ltd. Farhadi, A.G. Ravan. (1970). “Languages of Afghanistan,” in The Kabul Times Annual, pp. 121-4. Ferguson, Charles F. (1959). “Diglossia,” WORD, vol. 15, no. 2, pp. 325-40. Repr. in Hymes (1964) pp. 429-39. ——. (1991). “Diglossia revisited,” in A. Hudson (ed.), 1991. Fierman, William. (1995). “Problems of Language Law Implementation in Uzbekistan,” in William Fierman (ed.), Nationalities Papers 23/3 (September 1995). Fishman, Joshua (ed.) (1966). Language loyalty in the United States. The Hague: Mouton. ——. (1967). “Bilingualism With and Without Diglossia; Diglossia With and Without Bilingualism.” Journal of Social Issues, vol. 23, no. 2, pp. 29-38. Revised and reprinted as “Societal Bilingualism: Stable and Transitional,” in Sociolinguistics: A Brief Introduction. pp. 78-89. Rowley, Mass.: Newbury House, 1970. —— (ed.) (1968, repr. 1972). Readings in the Sociology of Language. The Hague: Mouton. ——. (1972). Advances in the Sociology of Language, vol. II. The Hague: Mouton. —— ed. 1986. The Fergusonian Impact, vol. 2: Sociolinguistics and the Sociology of Language. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. ——. 1991. Reversing Language Shift: Theoretical and Empirical Foundations of Assistance to Threatened Languages. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters.

19 This issue is particularly pertinent when attempts are made to substitute one language for another, as we see in the chapters by Diamond, Fierman, Nichols, and Schlyter. 20 This issue as it applies to Malaysia is illustrated in great detail by Mead in his 1988 work.

28

harold f. schiffman and brian spooner

Halliday, M.A.K., McIntosh, Angus and Strevens, Peter. (1964). The Linguistic Sciences and Language Teaching. Longmans, London. Hudson, Alan, (ed.) (1991). Studies in Diglossia. Linguistic Association of the Southwest, Denton, TX. Mackey, William F. (1983). “U.S. Language Policy and the Canadian Experience,” in Cobarrubias and Fishman, pp. 173-206. Marçais, W. (1930). “La diglossie arabe,” L’Enseignement public, 97, 20-39. Markham, James. 1989. “Paris Journal; Pardon My English, But Did Someone Say 1992?” New York Times [archives], May 12, 1989. http://select.nytimes.com/search /restricted/article?res= FA0715FF345E0C718DDDAC0894D1484D8 Mead, Richard. (1988). Malaysia’s National Language Policy and the Legal System. Technical report 30. Yale Center for International and Area Studies, New Haven. Miran, M. Alam. (1977). The Functions of National Languages in Afghanistan. New York: Afghanistan Council, Asia Society. Morgenstierne, Georg. (1927). An etymological vocabulary of Pashto. Utgitt for Fridtjof Nansens fond. Oslo, I kommisjon J. Dybwad. ——. (1929). Indo-Iranian frontier languages. Oslo, H. Aschehoug Co. ——. (1979). “The Linguistic Stratification of Afghanistan,”Afghan Studies vol. 2, 1979, pp. 23-33. Rubin, Joan. (1972). “Bilingual usage in Paraguay,” in Fishman, (ed.), pp. 512-30. Scherer K. and Giles, Howard. (1979). Social Markers in Speech. European Studies in Social Psychology Series. Cambridge University Press and Editions de la Maison des Sciences de l’Homme, Cambridge, London and Paris. Schiffman, Harold F. (1974). “Language, Linguistics and Politics in Tamilnad,” in Edwin Gerow and Margery Lang, (eds.), Studies in the language and culture of South Asia. University of Washington Press, and Publications on Asia, no. 23, of the Institute for Comparative and Foreign Area Studies, pp. 125-34. ——. (1997). “Diglossia as a Sociolinguistic Situation,” In F. Coulmas (ed.), The Handbook of Sociolinguistics. London: Basil Blackwell, Ltd., 1997. ——. (1991). “Swiss-German diglossia,” in A. Hudson (ed.), “Studies in Diglossia,” Southwest Journal of Linguistics, vol. 10, no. 1 (1991), pp. 173-88. ——. (1996). Linguistic Culture and Language Policy. London: Routledge. Trudgill, Peter. (1983). Sociolinguistics: An Introduction to Language and Society. Penguin: Harmondsworth. Weinreich, Max. (1980). History of the Yiddish language, trans. by Shlomo Noble, with the assistance of Joshua A. Fishman. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

SECTION I

AFGHANISTAN AND IRAN

CHAPTER TWO

LANGUAGE POLICY IN AFGHANISTAN: LINGUISTIC DIVERSITY AND NATIONAL UNITY Senzil Nawid 2.1. Introduction Afghanistan is a heterogeneous, multilingual nation comprised of diverse ethnic groups—Pashtuns, Tajiks, Uzbeks, Hazaras, Nuristanis, Aimaqs, Baluchis and other smaller ethnicities. Several languages have co-existed in Afghanistan for a very long time, each of which was originally associated with a specific geographic region. This chapter provides an overview of the policies of successive regimes with regard to the use and official status of the diverse languages. It focuses primarily on Dari, the official term for Afghan Persian, and on Pashto, the two most important and official languages of the country. Language policy in Afghanistan was frequently altered in the course of the twentieth century in response to social and political conditions and to efforts to promote the political objectives of the regime in power. The objectives were promotion of national unity, national identity, ethnic aspirations, and political ideologies. Afghanistan’s turbulent history in the twentieth century occasioned frequent changes in Afghan language policy. 2.2. Linguistic Diversity The three major languages, based on the number of people speaking them, are Pashto, Dari, and Uzbek. 2.2.1. Pashto Pashto, also rendered Pakhtu, and sometimes Afghani, is a member of the southeastern group of the Iranian branch of Indo-European languages and is spoken by the Pashtuns in Afghanistan and in northwestern and western Pakistan. Its dialects fall into two main divisions:

32

senzil nawid

southern and eastern. Although Pashto literature exists from the 7th century, the Pashto language did not gain prominence until the 18th century when Ahmad Shah Durrani (1747–1773) established the Durrani Empire, which became known as Afghanistan in the 19th century. Pashtuns make up the largest ethnic group in Afghanistan, comprising from 38 to 44 percent of the population. The Durrani tribe is the largest and most important Pashtun tribe. The Durranis ruled Afghanistan from 1747 to 1978. Their original homeland is the region west and southwest of Qandahar. The second largest Pashtun tribe is the Ghilzai tribe. The Ghilzais live in regions between Ghazni and Qandahar. Other important Pashtun tribes are the frontier tribes, the Waziris, Khattaks, Mohmands, Shinwaris, Yusufzais, and the Afridis who are known as the guardians of the Khyber Pass. The delineation of the Durand Line as the southern and eastern border of Afghanistan by the British in 1893 divided the frontier Pashtun tribes between Afghanistan and British India. According to Anwar ul-Haq Ahady, the Durand Line greatly lessened the power of Pashtuns in Afghanistan. However, this loss was reversed in some measure when Amir ʿAbdur Rahman forced resettlement of large numbers of Pashtun tribes from the frontier to the northern regions of Afghanistan.1 2.2.2. Dari Dari is the name for the Persian language as used in Afghanistan. Various dialects of it are spoken natively in the north and west by the Tajiks, who comprise more than one-third of the Afghan population. Dari is the lingua franca of most other Afghans. Various Dari dialects are spoken in Herat, Hazarajat, Balkh, Ghor, Ghazni, Badakhshan, Panjsher, and in Kabul. The dialect of Kabul has become the standard, which is broadcast and popularized by Kabul Radio. Spoken Dari takes its root from its archaic phonetic characteristics. The pronunciation of literary Dari is based on the traditional old diction of the northern regions of present-day Afghanistan. Literary Dari was the language of administration and the judiciary from the time of the Ghaznavids in the tenth and eleventh centuries. As the lingua franca, Dari was also the language of commerce. With the formation of the modern state of Afghanistan by Ahmad Shah Durrani in 1747,

1

Anwar ul-Haq, 1995, p. 632.

language policy in afghanistan

33

Dari retained its position as the language of administration notwithstanding the domination by Pashtuns of all levels of government. Competence in Dari was a condition of employment and a requirement for advancement in the civil service. As a consequence, Pashtuns learned Dari, as did Uzbeks, and other minority groups. But very few non-Pashtuns learned Pashto. According to a report prepared by the U.S. Central Intelligence Agency, 50 percent of the population of Afghanistan speaks Dari, and 35 percent speaks Pashto.2 2.2.3. Uzbek The Uzbeks and Turkman of Afghanistan are ethnically and linguistically of Turkic origin. They occupy the northern agricultural region of Afghanistan from the Faryab Province to Badakhshan Province and constitute about eight percent of the population. They moved into the area in the sixteenth century from Central Asia. As a result, there are many mixed Uzbek and Tajik villages in northern Afghanistan. At the end of the nineteenth century, Amir Abdur Rahman consolidated the Uzbek principalities (khanates) under his rule and, as mentioned above, enforced a resettlement policy that resulted in Pashtun inroads into traditionally Uzbek areas. His intention was to promote national unity by intermingling people of different linguistic backgrounds in the north. Despite the fact that a new wave of Uzbek and Turkman immigration took place in the north of Afghanistan as a result of Czarist Russian conquest of their native lands and subsequent local uprisings in Central Asia against the Bolsheviks, later immigrations of Pashtun tribes in the 1920s and 1930s relegated Uzbeks to a minority in the area they once dominated.3 2.3. Historical Development In view of the large number of people who spoke Pashto and because of the political power of the Pashtuns, Pashto was held in high regard.

2 Tajikam Portal-Secret Documents Reveal Afghan Language Policy, http://tajikam .com/index. 3 University of Maryland—Minorities at Risk: Background Information (“Assessment for Uzbeks in Afghanistan”) [#30498], [ID 1199] http://www.ecoi.net/188769 ::afghanistan/314494.313281.7999 . . . eth.565382/background-information.htm.

34

senzil nawid

However, it was second in prestige to Persian. Sporadic attempts were made by Afghan rulers at different times to elevate the official status of Pashto. (It must be remembered that they were themselves Pashtun, but had become Persian-speaking.) An initial step in this direction was taken in the mid-nineteenth century by Amir Shir Ali Khan (1863–1879), who rendered all military titles in Pashto and ordered at the same time that all military commands be delivered in Pashto. Amir Shir ʿAli also introduced the title “Loynab” (the grand deputy or prime minister). The latter title was later dropped, but the military designations and the series of Pashto military commands introduced by Amir Shir ʿAli continued to be a part of Afghanistan’s military language. During the reign of Amir Habibullah (1901–1919) the issue of language became important. In 1911, Mahmud Tarzi, a famous Afghan essayist who was the ideologue of the nascent Afghan modernistnationalist movement, published a series of articles on the importance of language in Seraj al-Akhbar, the newspaper he edited. In one of his articles he claimed that Afghani (Pashto) was the ancestor to all aryan (Indo-Iranian) languages. He admitted, however, that his attitude could have been biased by nationalist fervor.4 Shortly afterwards, Tarzi devoted a column in Seraj al-Akhbar to Persian and Pashto literature under the epigram “A nation will not survive without its language and a language will not survive without its literature.” Four years later in the issue of September 12, 1915, of Seraj al-Akhbar, Tarzi printed another article under the title “Language and its Importance” in which he declared that Persian (Dari) was the official language of Afghanistan and Pashto its national language.5 Although Tarzi himself wrote exclusively in Dari, he urged readers to make a concerted effort to raise the status of Pashto.6 For Tarzi and his associates, Gregorian points out, “Islam, Afghan history, and Pashto together formed the mortar that would permit the country’s ethnic mosaic to be molded into a single nation.”7 Tarzi was aware of the cultural importance of Persian and its political significance as an international language, spoken in Iran, Afghanistan, and Central Asia. He ranked Persian the second

4

Seraj al-Akhbar, vol. 2, no. 9, Dalw 3, 1291/Jan. 23, 1912. Ibid., vol. 5, no. 2, Sonbola 20, 1294 (Sept. 12, 1915). 6 Ibid., vol. 5, no. 1, Sonbola 4, 1294 (August 27, 1915, pp. 2, 19, 5; vol. ii, no. 9, pp. 9-12, cited in Gregorian, 1969, p. 175. 7 Gregorian, 1969, p. 175. 5

language policy in afghanistan

35

most important Middle Eastern language after Arabic and strongly supported it’s designation as the official language of the state.8 The promulgation of new regulations relating to freedom of the press during the reign of King Amanullah (1919–1929) stimulated a rapid growth of literary activities. Several newspapers were started in Qandahar and in the Eastern and Southern Provinces with articles in Pashto. In 1927, a group of Pashtun scholars of Qandahar founded the Pashto Maraka, or Pashto Society, with the support and encouragement of the government. The Association’s main objective was to promote Pashto language and literature. The Loya-Jirga of 1924 which ratified Afghanistan’s first constitution, granted King Amanullah the Pashto title Tolwak (the Sole Authority). By direction of the Loya-Jirga of 1924, the text of the Constitution and all government regulations were translated into Pashto. The Constitution, however, did not designate either of the languages as the national or the official language of Afghanistan. King Nadir Shah (1930–1933), who assumed power in the wake of the chaos that resulted in King Amanullah’s abdication in 1929, took measures to promote Persian (Dari) and Pashto language and literature. During his years in France as the Afghan ambassador and later as a private citizen in self-exile in France, Nadir Shah had become acquainted with the work of the Académie Française and was inspired by it. Using the Académie Française as his model, he established the Anjoman-i-Adabi (Literary Society) in 1931 under the supervision of the Royal Secretariat. The Society’s most important achievement was the publication of an historical and literary journal, Majalla-i Kabul (Kabul Gazette), along with a yearbook, Salnama-i-Kabul, which was identified on the back cover as L’Almanach de Kaboul. Gregorian notes that the Anjoman (Literary Society) “. . . pursued four aims: to study and clarify the Afghan historical heritage; to study and promote Afghan literature and folklore; to study and promote the Pashto language; and to spread knowledge about Afghanistan and its culture.”9 The contributors included eminent scholars, writers and poets. These writers were pioneers of the modern Afghan press and literary intelligentsia.10 The

8

Seraj al-Akhbar, vol. 5, no. 2, Sonbola 20, 1294 (Sept. 12, 1915). Gregorian, 1969, p. 348. 10 Schinasi, forthcoming. Among the main contributors were imminent writers and scholars, such as Sarwar Guya, Fikri Saljuqi, Muhammad Ali Kohzad, Gholam Muhammad Ghobar, Sayyid Qasim Rishtiya, Ahmad ʿAli Durrani, Qari ʿAbdullah, 9

36

senzil nawid

press continued to grow under Zahir Shah (1933–1973). Nadir Shah’s son and successor. During the first years of his reign, the two major Kabul papers, Anis (Comrade) and Islah (Reform), which began as biweeklies during the reign of King Amanullah, became daily, bilingual publications. Other publications in the capital and in the provinces also began to publish articles in Pashto. 2.4. The Official Language Problem The choice of official languages became a vexing issue during the 1930s and early ’40s. In 1936, Pashto was declared the official language of Afghanistan. Its use and promulgation were encouraged. A year later, the Advisory Board of Education adopted regulations making Pashto the medium of instruction at the elementary school level in all parts of Afghanistan.11 The Literary Society, now under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Education, changed its name to Pashto Tolena (The Pashto Academy) and was expanded to include several divisions.12 The Academy’s main tasks were to produce Pashto dictionaries and standardize Pashto grammar and pronunciation. The Persian title of the literary journal, Majalla-i-Kabul, was changed to De Kabul Mojalla, in Pashto. The title of the yearbook was also changed to Pashto, De Kabul Kalanai (The Kabul Annual). Later in 1941, the yearbook was changed in Pashto to De Afghanistan Kalanai (The Afghanistan Annual ). However, despite the Pashto titles, the language of the content of the journal and yearbook remained predominantly Persian. According to Sayyid Qasim Rishtya, the Minister of Press at a later date, the intention of the ruling elite at the time in making Pashto both the national and the official language was to strengthen national unity and create a strong Afghan national identity through the promotion of a single state language.13 The change was hailed by Pashtun nationalists and intellectuals, who always aspired to a Pashtun, ethnic-

and Gholam Hazrat Bitab. The famous Pashto scholars who contributed to the new literary and historical journal included Abdul Raʾuf Binawa, Gul Pacha Olfat, Seddiqullah Reshtin, Zemiryalai, and later ʿAbdul Haiy Habibi, the well-known Afghan scholar and historian. 11 Afghanistan dar Pinjah Sal-i-Akhir (Afghanistan in the Past Fifty Years). 1347/ 1968, p. 61; Payinda M. Zahir and M Yusuf Ilmi, 1339/1960, p. 52. 12 Sayyid Qasim Rishtiya, 1992, 25. 13 Ibid.

language policy in afghanistan

37

based national identity. However, the effort to promote Pashto as the official language of Afghanistan produced immediate problems. For centuries, Dari had been the language of bureaucracy, instruction, and commerce. As the lingua franca, it had been accepted over time by all non-Dari speaking ethnic groups. Other ethnic groups, some Uzbeks, for example, who were conversant in Persian (Dari), resented having to learn Pashto as a third language.14 The shortage of trained Pashto teachers in non-Pashtun speaking areas created an enormous challenge. The adverse effects of the policy on the country’s administrative, economic, and educational infrastructure soon forced decision-makers to reverse the policy and declare both Dari Persian and Pashto as official languages of Afghanistan. In 1946, Muhammad Hashim, King Zahir Shah’s uncle and a powerful force behind the throne, stepped down as Prime Minister to be replaced by his liberal-leaning younger brother, Shah Mahmud Khan. The new government restored Persian (Dari) as an official language.15 Rishtiya, newly-appointed Minister of Press, writes in his memoir that the new Minister of Education (Najibullah Torwayana, himself a Durrani Pashtun) believed that the change of medium of instruction from Persian (Dari) to Pashto had been a big mistake and was causing irreparable harm to Afghanistan’s educational system.16 It was on the basis of his recommendation that educational instruction became bilingual. In Pashto-speaking areas, Pashto remained the medium of instruction with students required to study Persian (Dari) as a second language. In all other regions, instruction was in Persian with students required to study Pashto as a second language.17 In the 1940s and 1950s, the government attempted to popularize Pashto and promote its status as an official language. The Ministry of Information and Culture was charged with promoting Pashto through the media. The Pashto Academy took the initiative to expand the vocabulary of the language, to create an official orthography for Pashto, and to promote research on Pashto language and literature. One of the initial challenges of the Academy was to create honorifics and courtesy titles in Pashto for official correspondence. The Persian courtesy titles aqa (Sir or Mr.), khanom (Mrs.), and bigom (Miss, 14 15 16 17

This sentiment has been recently expressed by Nazif Shahrani, 1984, p. 55. http://www.khyberwatch.com/forums/showthread.php?t=595&page=10 Rishtiya, op. cit. Afghanistan dar Pinjah Sal-i Akhir, p. 52.

38

senzil nawid

which is actually a Turkish word) were changed to shaghilai, mirmon, and pighla, Pashto equivalents. The Academy also created Pashto equivalents for Arabic and Persian terms for use in official government communications. Public and academic institutions, as well as hospitals, clinics, drugstores, theaters, associations and organizations like the Afghan Red Crescent, received Pashto designations. The Pashto Academy also created academic titles in Pashto: pohand (professor), pohanwal (associate professor), and pohanyar (assistant professor). Academic institutions were given Pashto names, as well: pohantun (university), pohanzai (college), etc. 2.4.1. Pashto and the Issue of Pashtunistan The creation of Pakistan following the British withdrawal from the subcontinent of India in 1947 prompted Afghanistan to raise the question of the Durand Line and self-determination for Pashtunistan (British occupied Pashtun territory), now claimed by Pakistan. These developments coincided with the birth of a Pashtun nationalist movement led by Pashtun intellectuals. In 1947, the leaders of the movement which included 22 young writers from Qandahar, Nangarhar and Kabul, published a manifesto under the Pashto slogan weishzalmian ghwaru, “We want Awakened Youth” and became known as the Weish Zalmian, The Awakened Youth. By 1948, they were able to form “. . . a political organization with a program, regular meetings and membership that advocated a constitutional monarchy, separation of powers, free elections and civil liberties.”18 Their program concentrated on the issue of Pashtunistan and the promotion of the Pashto language vis-à-vis Persian. In 1950, important members of the organization included Gul Pacha Olfat, Muhammad Rasul Pashtun, Faiz Muhammad Angar, Abdul Raʿuf Binawa, and Nur Muhammad Taraki, who later became the leader of the Khalq division of the Afghan Marxist-Leninist Party. With the rise to power of Muhammad Daoud, King Zahir Shah’s first cousin, as Prime Minister, the issue of Pashtunistan entered a new phase. A staunch nationalist, Daoud took an unyielding position on the issue of Pashtunistan and demanded the separation of Pashtun

18

Thomas Ruttig, “Islamists, Leftists—and a Void in the Center: Afghanistan’s Political Parties and where they come from (1902–2006).” http://72.14.205.104 /search?q=cache:skD-zjg8hYcJ:www.kas.de/wf/doc/kas_9674-544-2-30.pdf+Wesh +Dzalmian&hl=en&ct=clnk&cd=1&gl=us&client=firefox-a.

language policy in afghanistan

39

territory from Pakistan. By the late 1950s, the issue of Pashtunistan erupted into a serious political conflict between Afghanistan and Pakistan. In September 1961, Kabul and Islamabad severed diplomatic relations and Pakistan sealed its border with Afghanistan. Closure of the border had a disastrous impact on trade and on the Afghan economy. With the escalation of tension with Pakistan, Pashto became the vehicle of radio propaganda against Pakistan. The number of Pashto programs on Kabul Radio and the use of Pashto in the Afghan press significantly increased during this period. However, in spite of government’s concerted efforts to promote Pashto, Dari continued to dominate business transactions, remained the medium of instruction of the educational system and the official language for public administration and the professions. 2.4.2. Official Bilingualism under Constitutional Monarchy In March of 1963, when the issue of Pashtunistan turned into a real crisis, Daoud was obliged to resign his post as Prime Minister. Two months later, with mediation by the Shah of Iran, Pakistan and Afghanistan reestablished diplomatic relations. The resignation of Daoud, as the last member of the royal family to share power with King Zahir Shah, and the normalization of relations with Pakistan resulted in a change of course in Afghan politics. In 1963, King Zahir Shah chose Dr. Muhammad Yusuf, a non-Pashtun to be Prime Minister. In 1964, with the support of King Zahir Shah, a new constitution was promulgated establishing a constitutional monarchy. Pashtun nationalists feared that reestablishment of diplomatic relations would lessen the government’s interest in the issue of Pashtunistan and reduce its commitment to propaganda against Pakistan and, in turn, its commitment to promote Pashto language and culture. During the process of drafting and ratifying the new constitution, the issue of language policy generated several days of heated debate.19 A report prepared by the US Embassy in Kabul on May 23, 1964, states: Differences over language, which are closely correlated to differences between the dominant Pashtuns and the subordinate Farsi-speaking ethnic groups, came to a head within the Commission during March

19

Rishtiya, p. 203.

40

senzil nawid when a Pashtun member of the Commission suggested that the draft Constitution employ phraseology which would commit the government to support the purity of Pashto and emphasize its use as a national language. An Uzbek member of the Commission reportedly stormed out of the meeting concerning the sincerity of the professions of the King’s and cabinet for the need to create a new Afghan national consciousness.20

The Pashtun nationalists continued to demand that Pashto be declared the national and official language of Afghanistan, because the state of Afghanistan had been established by Pashtuns and because Pashto speakers constituted the largest ethnic group in the country. They argued that, unlike Persian, which was spoken in other countries, Pashto was spoken only in Afghanistan.21 The partisans of Persian maintained that Persian had been Afghanistan’s literary language since its origins in Balkh, Herat, and Ghazni in the 10th century and that the spoken and literary language of Afghanistan was, in fact, Dari Persian, which was quite different from the Persian spoken in Iran and Tajikistan. In a statement made prior to the announcement of the constitution, Dr. Abd al-Zahir, President of the National Assembly and Chairman of the Constitutional Advisory Commission, explained the final decision in the matter of language policy. He told reporters that Pashto and Farsi would continue to be the two official languages of Afghanistan, as before, but that the latter would henceforth be called “Dari” and not Farsi. Equal status would be accorded Dari as one of the two indigenous languages of Afghanistan.22 At a subsequent press conference, Prime Minister Muhammad Yusuf declared that Pashto had always been the national language, because it was imbedded in Afghanistan’s cultural and political history and because of the large number of people who speak it. He stressed that notwithstanding the importance of Pashto, sufficient attention had not been given its development and promotion. He announced that the new Constitution would include a provision for the adoption of effective measures to promote Pashto and remedy the negligence of the previous governments in this area, because it is essential for all 20 US Embassy Report, Airgram, May 23, 1964, Kabul, US Department of State, Pol. 15-5 AFG, 95900. Afghanistan-Pakistan Documents by Paul Wolf. http://www.icdc .com/~paulwolf/pakistan/ashford23may1964.htm. 21 These sentiments have been expressed by Nazif Shahrani. 22 “Afghanistan: Experiment in Democracy,” Documents from the U.S. National Archives, 1961–1973, http://www.icdc.com/~paulwolf/pakistan/afghanistan.htm.

language policy in afghanistan

41

the people of Afghanistan to learn their national language and become proficient in it.23 Article 3 of the Constitution stated that from amongst the languages of Afghanistan, Pashto and Dari shall be the official languages. It declared Pashto as the national language of Afghanistan. Article 35 announced that the state was responsible to prepare and implement an effective program for the strengthening of the national language. Subsequent to the announcement of the constitution, the government introduced specific measures to achieve this objective. The Ministries of Education and Press were instructed to work out a practicable plan for promotion of the Pashto language in cooperation with other governmental departments. New regulations were passed requiring Dari-speaking civil servants to attend after-hour Pashto classes. Failure to attend resulted in the reduction of monthly pay. In 1968, a literacy campaign was launched under the guidance of the Ministry of Education and The Pashto Academy with assistance from UNESCO.24 These efforts were not very successful, and the American embassy reported . . . moves to strengthen the badly faltering Pashto language program might help to allay the fears of those Pashtuns who are reported apprehensive that the downgrading of Pashtunistan, specially as signaled in recent reduction of propaganda, may foreshadow a further decline in the [government’s] interest in the promotion of Pashto language and culture. There are some indications that the RGA may intend to place more emphasis on Pushtu (sic), but it is doubted that a really serious effort in this direction will be made. . . .25

Not all measures adopted by the government failed. The Pashto Academy achieved visible success in promoting Pashto literature. The Department of Pashto Language and Literature at Kabul University also made big strides. Other languages spoken in Afghanistan also received attention. Research was conducted on different languages by

23 Muhammad Yusuf ’s press conference dated June 17, 1964, cited in Afghanistan dar Dawra-i-Inteqali (Afghanistan during the Period of Transition). Kabul: Government Press, 1965, p. 102. 24 Torpekai Sultani (Representative of Kibou no Gakko, Japan). “The Current Situation of Basic Education in Afghanistan,” http://72.14.205.104/search?q=cache: AlqhRGRHhbEJ:www.criced.tsukuba.ac.jp/pdf/04_Afghanistan_Sultani.pdf+Pashto +tolena&hl=en&ct=clnk&cd=1&gl=us&client=firefox-a. 25 Herbert B. Leggett report, US Embassy in Kabul, Embassy’s A-546, July 13, 1963, http://www.icdc.com/~paulwolf/pakistan/leggett13july1963.htm.

42

senzil nawid

Afghan scholars in the Department of Linguistics at Kabul University and by non-Afghan scholars elsewhere. 2.4.3. Democracy and Ethno-Linguistic Awareness Following ratification of the Constitution and restoration of freedom of the press, which had been suspended during Daoud’s government, several political organizations emerged: the Pashtun socialist-nationalist Afghan Millat (Afghan Nation); the pro-Soviet Marxist-Leninist People’s Democratic Party of Afghanistan (the PDPA); the Maoist Shoʿla-i-Jawid (Eternal Flame), and the anti-Pashtun organization, Setam-i-Milli (National Oppression). This latter party was formed in the late 1960s by Taher Badakhshi, a Tajik who had been a member of the PDPA Central Committee. The Setam-i-Milli bore a resemblance to the Shoʿla-i-Jawid in its emphasis on militant class struggle and mass mobilization of peasants. It recruited members from minority communities in Kabul and gained support in the northeastern provinces from Tajiks, Uzbek and other minorities. In 1967, the PDPA divided into two factions: the Khalq (Masses), under the leadership of Nur Muhammad Taraki; and Parcham (Banner), led by Babrak Karmal, a former president of the Afghan Student Union. The leaders of the two factions of the PDPA were both Pashtuns. Taraki and his close collaborator, Hafizullah Amin, came from rural Ghilzai Pashtun backgrounds and the membership of the Khalq faction was composed predominantly of Pashtuns from rural areas.26 Karmal, on the other hand, was a Dari-speaker of Kashmiri descent and came from an urban background.27 His father, a former governor of Paktia Province, had close ties with the ruling family. The Parcham constituency was mostly urban, composed of middle or upper middle class people of Kabul, Dari-speaking Pashtuns, Hazaras, and Tajiks. In the late 1960s a group of university students and professors in the Department of Theology at Kabul University formed the Afghan Muslim Youth Organization, which later became known as Jamiʿati-Islami-i Afghanistan (The Islamic Organization of Afghanistan). The organizers were Borhanuddin Rabbani, a professor of theology at Kabul University and a Tajik from Badakhshan, and Golbudin

26 27

Edwards, 2002, pp. 46-8. Ruben, 1995, p. 126.

language policy in afghanistan

43

Hekmatyar, an engineering student and a Pashtun from Qunduz in northern Afghanistan. The Islamic Organization later split into two parties. The political organizations that emerged during the period of constitutional monarchy dominated Afghan politics for years to come. Ethnicity and language were important dimensions of the politics of most of these groups. 2.4.4. Language Policy of the Democratic Republic of Afghanistan (DRA), 1987–1992 In 1973, King Zahir Shah, who had ruled the country since 1933, was ousted in a coup led by his cousin Muhammad Daoud. In 1977, during Daoud’s presidency the factions of the PDPA re-united through the good offices of the Soviet Embassy in Kabul. In April of the next year, the PDPA came to power when President Daoud was killed in a bloody military coup led by army officers affiliated with the party. Once in power, the PDPA established the Democratic Republic of Afghanistan (DRA). Positions in the initial cabinet, formed following the April coup, were carefully apportioned between the Khalq and Parcham factions. Taraki was named Premier and Chair of the Revolutionary Council (RC). Karmal was named Senior Deputy Premier, and Hafizullah Amin was named Foreign Minister. In his first radio talk broadcast on May 5, 1978, Taraki asserted that the PDPA had no association whatsoever with Communism and called allegations to the contrary “seditious fabrications.”28 In fact, the government that emerged from the coup d’état in 1978 was MarxistLeninist, based on the Soviet model. In April and May of 1978, the PDPA Revolutionary Council issued a series of decrees setting forth the goals of the new regime. Decree Number 4 issued on May 15 declared the regime’s commitment to the equality of all ethno-linguistic groups. It asserted that the languages spoken by seven ethnic groups of Afghanistan are the national languages of the country. These are Pashto, Dari, Uzbeki, Turkmani,

28

Amin Tarzi, “Lessons from the Past: The Saur Putsch”, Afghanistan Report. 1 May 2003, vol. 2, no. 15, http://www.globalsecurity.org/military/library/news/2003/05/15010503.htm.

44

senzil nawid

Nuristani, Pashai and Baluchi. This PDPA language policy conformed to Lenin’s egalitarian view regarding the equality of nations and languages and his declaration that “full equality includes the negation of any privileges for one of the languages.”29 The PDPA’s language policy was hailed in 2003 in The Weekly Worker of the Communist Party of Great Britain: Oppressed language groups heard their mother tongue on Kabul Radio for the first time. Pushtan (sic) domination officially ended. Constitutionally, the country became a multinational state. A secular state too. Islam was not subjected to any attacks, but the state promised neither to promote nor interfere with any religion.30

The PDPA regime introduced several measures to demonstrate its commitment to the development of various languages and the ethnic groups speaking them. As pointed out above, the majority of the Khalqis were Ghilzai Pashtuns from rural areas with strong tribal allegiances. Karmal and his close associates came from urbanized Pashtun families, who according to the Khalqis lacked traditional Pashtun values. Notwithstanding their socialist ideology, Taraki and his followers were Pashtun nationalists. Taraki himself was once a member of the Pashtun nationalist Awakened Youth. According to Ahady, the Khalqis stealthily harbored the dream of making Pashto Afghanistan’s predominant language. Interethnic relations received primary attention when the communists came to power in 1978. During their reign the Khalq faction (1978–1979) of the People’s Democratic Party of Afghanistan (PDPA), the communist authorities, in addition to Pashto and Dari (Persian), recognized Uzbeki, Turkmani, Baluchi, and Nuristani as official languages. Although this seemed like an attempt by the Khalq faction to weaken the dominance of the Pashtuns, in reality the policy was intended to weaken the status of Dari and eventually promote Pashto as the language of interethnic communication.31

29 Cited in Michael Bruchis “The Effect of the USSR’s Language Policy on the National Languages of Its Turkic Population.” In Yaacov Roi, ed., The USSR and the Muslim World: Issues in Domestic and Foreign Policy. London: George Allen and Unwin, 1984, 129. 30 James Marshall, “Fight reaction on all fronts,” Weekly Worker, 408, Thursday November 15, 2001. 31 Anwar ul-Haq Ahady, “Decline of the Pashtuns in Afghanistan.” Asian Survey, vol. 35, no. 7, July 1995, 622.

language policy in afghanistan

45

This plan conformed to the Marxist—Leninist tenet of sliyaniye (the eventual merger of all languages and cultures into one).32 An important component of the DRA language policy was a campaign against illiteracy. Mass illiteracy presented a major obstacle to the PDPA’s goal to build a socialist society. Lenin claimed that it is impossible to build a Communist society in a country where people are illiterate.33 Following the model of Soviet policy in Central Asia, the PDPA launched an aggressive adult literacy campaign, targeting women in particular due to the high percentage of illiterate women in Afghan society. However, as a result of widespread revolt against many of the policies the PDPA and the Soviet military presence in Afghanistan, the campaign against illiteracy was ultimately confined to areas surrounding the capital under the regime’s control. Opposition to the DRA emerged almost immediately after the announcement of Revolutionary Council’s radical new policies. Insurgence broke out in Herat a few months after the PDPA takeover and soon spread to the other parts of the country. By the end of 1978, the PDPA declared four groups to be enemies of the regime: the Islamic Organization of Afghanistan, the Millat organized by Pashtun nationalists, the Shoʿla-i-Jawid Maoists, and the Setam i-Milli (a group with Maoist leanings that advocated Tajik and Uzbek separatism). The PDPA’s endorsement of all minority languages as national languages and its commitment to promote them contributed little to the effort to win support from ethnically-based political groups. The regime was weakened further by bitter in-fighting between the Khalq and Parcham factions of the PDPA. The two factions differed in their strategies for implementing Marxist-Leninist ideology. Taraki advocated revolutionary change and was in favor of building a “tightly disciplined working-class” in the classical Leninist fashion in order to realize the goals of the PDPA revolution. Karmal, on the other hand, believed that Afghanistan was not ready for full-scale adoption of Leninist strategy. He thought that “a national democratic front of patriotic and anti-imperialist forces had to be fostered in order to

32

Kreindler, Isabelle. “Lenin, Russian, and Soviet Language Policy.” International Journal of the Sociology of Language, 33, 1982, pp. 129-35. 33 John McLeish, “The Soviet Conquest of Illiteracy.” The Alberta Journal of Educational Research, vol. 18, 1972, p. 310.

46

senzil nawid

bring the country a step closer to socialist revolution.”34 The two factions were also deeply divided by ethnic and tribal rivalries.35 2.5. Ascendance of the Parcham and Draft of a New Constitution The merger of the Khalq and Parcham, facilitated and mediated by the Soviet embassy in Kabul in 1976, did not eliminate deep-seated social, ethnic, ideological, and often personal differences between the two factions. Rivalry between the two re-emerged almost immediately after the PDPA assumed power in the spring of 1978. The Khalqis, who benefited from the loyalty of most of the officer corps, conspired to remove Parchamis from power by sending the top Parcham leaders as ambassadors into “exile” and by dismissing or arresting others. Intense rivalry within the Khalq leadership emerged shortly thereafter resulting in the mysterious death of Taraki and the usurpation of power by Amin. The continuing factional in-fighting and growing strength of the resistance to the PDPA regime in the following year eventually led to military intervention by the Soviet Union. In December 1979, Soviet troops entered Kabul to prevent the fall of the PDPA Marxist regime. Amin was killed and Babrak Karmal, the Parcham leader, was placed in power by the Soviets. Karmal quickly formed a new coalition of Parchamis and anti-Amin Khalqis. By 1984, eight of the thirteen members of the PDPA Politburo were Parchamis. The remaining five were Khalqis. Following the Soviet intervention, civil war broke out across the country, with mujahedin “freedom fighters” battling the government army and more than 100,000 Soviet soldiers. Despite the backing of an expeditionary force that grew as large as 120,000 Soviet troops, the PDPA was unable to maintain authority in the face of widespread opposition to their rule. In 1986, Karmal was pressured by the Soviets to step down in favor of yet another Pashtun Najibullah, a former head of KHAD, the Afghan security organization. Najibullah declared a program of “National Reconciliation,” signaling the PDPA’s willingness to back away from radical Marxist-Leninist policies.

34 “A Revolution Backfires”, Government Publication Access, Afghanistan Country Study, www.gl.iit.edu/govdocs/afghanistan/ARevolutionBackfires.html. 35 Edwards, pp. 46-7.

language policy in afghanistan

47

In 1987, Najibullah introduced another constitution. Article 13 of the new constitution declared Afghanistan a multi-national state that would promote growth, understanding, friendship, and cooperation between all nationalities, tribes and clans of the country to ensure political, economic, social, and cultural equality and rapid growth of regions. Article 13 stipulated further that the state would gradually prepare the grounds for the creation of administrative units based on national characteristics. Article 14 declared that the state would adopt the necessary measures for the growth of culture, language and literature of the people of Afghanistan and would preserve and develop the worthy cultural, traditional, linguistic, literary and folkloric legacy of all nationalities, clans, and tribes. Article 90 affirmed that the laws and resolutions of the National Assembly would be published in the Pashto and Dari languages and could also be published in the languages of other nationalities. Article 98 declared that trial and judgment in the courts would be conducted in Pashto and Dari, or the language of the majority of the residents of the place. If a party to a case did not understand the language in which the trial was conducted, he would have the right to become acquainted with the materials and documents of the case through an interpreter and the right to address the court in his mother language.36 The Marxists reaffirmed the status of Pashto, along with Dari, as an official language of Afghanistan and recognized all of the languages of the seven major ethnic groups of Afghanistan as national languages. In the long run, this regionally and ethnically-based language policy accentuated the ethnic and linguistic divisions of the country and provided a platform for the ethnic and linguistic groupings of the mujahedin and the eventual rise of regional warlords. 2.6. Ethnic and Linguistic Rivalry in the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan Ethnic and linguistic rivalry worsened after the fall of the PDPA in 1992. Najibullah’s attempts to moderate the PDPA’s reforms and bring about national reconciliation (ashti-milli) did not diminish resistance 36 Constitution of Republic of Afghanistan. Kabul: Albiruni Publishing House, June, 1990.

48

senzil nawid

to the regime. Even though the Soviet Union had withdrawn its troops from Afghanistan in 1989, resistance to the Soviet-backed government continued, and the regime collapsed with the takeover of Kabul by mujahedin forces in April 1992. Following the mujahedin victory, a Loya-Jirga, or grand council of Afghan elders, was supposed to be convened to designate an interim administration that would hold power for up to a year, pending elections. Instead, in May 1992, a religious leadership council (ahl-i-hal wa al-ʿaql) elected Burhanudin Rabbani to form the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan. Intense factional warfare erupted after the selection of Rabbani as president by the religious leadership council, and Kabul was quickly ravaged by civil war. Outside the capital, local warlords took power over their regions. The Rabbani government lacked sufficient administrative capacity to enforce any kind of language policy. Inasmuch as his organization, Jamiʿat-i-Islami, derived most of its support from the Dari- and Turkic-speaking minorities in the northern part of Afghanistan, concerted efforts were made during his four-years presidency to diminish the use and weaken the influence of Pashto. In 1995 Ahady wrote: The Pashto language has also lost status in the government controlled media, radio, television, and newspapers. Since the 1920s and before the downfall of the Najibullah regime, the development and popularization of Pashto received preferential treatment in the government’s cultural policy, or at least equality with Dari, and 50% or more of radio-tv programs were in Pashto. Since April 1992 Pashto-language programs have decreased drastically, and the official print media allocates even less space to Pashto.37

A notable additional measure was the change of the language of the national anthem from Pashto into Dari. 2.7. Resurgence of Pashto under the Taliban In 1996, after four years of civil war, Taliban forces took over Kabul and toppled the Rabbani regime. The rise of the Taliban, who were primarily Pashtuns, resulted in a resurgence of Pashtun nationalism.

37

Anwar ul-Haq Ahady, p. 624.

language policy in afghanistan

49

The issue of Pashtunistan was sidelined with the establishment of the Soviet-backed regime in 1987 and the emigration of large numbers of Pashtun refugees from Afghanistan to the North-West Frontier Province in Pakistan. In the 1980s, Pakistan’s position regarding the issue of Pashtunistan was strengthened with the formation in the North-West Frontier Province of seven anti-Marxist Afghan resistant groups, making the region the center of resistance against the Sovietbacked regime in Kabul. The issue of Pashtunistan, however, did not die. Notwithstanding continuing support from Pakistan, Mullah Umar, the Taliban leader, refused to give in to pressure from Pakistan to accept the Durand Line as the official boundary between Aghanistan and Pakistan. The Taliban did not announce an official language policy, but Pashto was the de facto official language of their government. During their five-year rule, Pashto became, for the first time in Afghan history, the sole language of interdepartmental correspondence. As the result, many non-Pashtun Afghans found themselves disadvantaged and discriminated against in dealing with government authorities. One of the reasons for the stringent imposition of Pashto during the Taliban era was the Taliban leaders’ lack of knowledge of Dari. Unlike most educated urban Pashtuns, the Taliban were trained in local madrasas in tribal areas and had very little or no training in Dari. 2.8. Language Policy in the Post Taliban Era Following the removal of the Taliban from power by coalition forces in October 2001, a new Afghan constitution was promulgated three years later in 2004. Unlike previous Afghan constitutions, the new constitution did not designate any languages of Afghanistan as the national language. Article 4 of the 2004 constitution reads in part: “The nation of Afghanistan is composed of all individuals who possess the citizenship of Afghanistan. The nation of Afghanistan shall be comprised of Pashtuns, Tajiks, Hazaras, Uzbeks, Turkmans, Baluchis, Pachaies, Nuristanis, Aymaqs, Arabs, Qirghizs, Qizilbashs, Gujurs, and Brahwuis.” However, Article 16 states, From amongst Pashto, Dari, Uzbeki, Turkmani, Baluchi, Pachaie, Nuristani, Pamiri and other current languages in the country, Pashto and Dari shall be the official languages of the state. In areas where the majority of the people speak in any one of Uzbeki, Turkmani, Pachaie,

50

senzil nawid Nuristani, Baluchi or Pamiri languages, any of the aforementioned languages, in addition to Pashto and Dari, shall be the third official language, the usage of which shall be regulated by law. The state shall design and apply effective programs to foster and develop all languages of Afghanistan. Usage of all current languages in the country shall be permissible in press publications and mass media. Past academic and national administrative terminology and usage in the country shall be preserved.

Unlike the Constitution of 1964 under King Zahir Shah, the Constitution of 2004 does not designate Pashto as Afghanistan’s national language. However, in Article 20 it designates an Afghan national anthem in Pashto that declares that “God is Great” and names all of the tribes of Afghanistan. The new anthem in Pashto, which was introduced shortly after ratification of the Constitution of 2004, portrays unity among the various ethnic groups that call Afghanistan their home, and it ends with an Islamic phrase in Arabic declaring Afghanistan’s allegiance to Islam. This land is Afghanistan. It is the pride of every Afghan. The land of peace, the land of the sword. Its sons are all brave. This is the country of every tribe. Land of Baluchis and Uzbeks, Pashtuns and Hazaras, Turkmans and Tajiks. With them Arabs and Gojars, Pamiris, Nuristanis, Barahawis and Qizilbashs. Also Aimaqs and Pashaies. This Land will shine forever. Like the sun in the blue sky. In the chest of Asia. It will remain its heart forever. We will follow the One God. We all say, God is Great. We all say, God is Great.

2.9. Summary Language policy in Afghanistan from the 1930s until the establishment of the Democratic Republic of Afghanistan by the PDPA in 1978 emphasized the importance of Pashto as the national language, because Pashto was spoken by the largest ethno-linguistic community, and also because it reflected the Pashtun character of the Afghan state from its establishment by Ahmad Shah in 1747. In spite of government efforts during the 1930s to gradually phase out Dari in favor of Pashto, Dari retained its status as the language of administration, the medium of instruction, and the lingua franca. A combination of internal social dynamics and external factors contributed to the development of Pashto during the 1950s and 60s. Until the announcement of constitutional monarchy in 1964, language policy as a whole was dictated by the ruling elite. The Constitution of 1964 was the first constitutional

language policy in afghanistan

51

document to actually address language policy. It reinstated Pashto as Afghanistan’s national language but designated Dari and Pashto both as official languages of the state. The establishment of the Marxist regime by the PDPA in 1978 brought a major change in Afghan language policy. The PDPA adopted an egalitarian language policy, recognizing all the languages of the seven major ethnic groups as national languages of Afghanistan. As a result, Pashto lost its status as Afghanistan’s national language but remained one of the official languages of the state. The Constitution of 2004, which was ratified after the fall of the Taliban, recognizes all ethnic groups of Afghanistan, without mentioning the language of any particular ethnic group as Afghanistan’s national language.38 The status of Pashto as the language of the largest ethnic group is recognized only in the fact that the language of the national anthem is Pashto. As with all other Afghan constitutions, it accords equal, official status to Pashto and Dari. However, the use and influence of Dari remains pervasive. As in all other periods of Afghan history, language policy at the end of the first decade of the twenty-first century is not being implemented to the satisfaction of the Pashtuns. According to a report of Radio Free Europe, the language most commonly in use in schools and in administration is Dari, and many Pashtuns feel that their language suffers discrimination, because Dari persists as the dominant language in Afghan government offices, at official meetings, in the courts, in publications and on radio and television programs.39 References Afghanistan dar Dawra-i-Inteqali (Afghanistan during the Period of Transition). (1965). Kabul: Government Press. Afghanistan dar Pinjah Sal-i-Akhir (Afghanistan in the Past Fifty Years). Kabul: Government Press, 1347/1968.

38 Although other polities recognize a distinction between national and official language, the distinction is often unclear. In the case of Afghanistan, the distinction marks the status of the language of the community that played the leading role in the establishment of the Afghan polity, as distinct from Persian, which has always been the language of administration. 39 Copyright (c) 2003. RFE/RL, Inc. Reprinted with the permission of Radio Free Europe. /www.globalsecurity.org/military/library/news/2003/11/mil-031103-rferl154117.htm.

52

senzil nawid

Anwar ul-Haq Ahady. (1995). “Decline of the Pashtuns in Afghanistan,” Asian Survey, vol. 35, no. 7, July 1995. Bruchis, Michael. (1984). “The Effect of the USSR’s Language Policy on the National Languages of Its Turkic Population,” in Yaacov Roi, ed., The USSR and the Muslim World: Issues in Domestic and Foreign Policy. London: George Allen and Unwin. Constitution of Republic of Afghanistan. 1990. Kabul: Albiruni Publishing House, June, 1990. Edwards, David B. (2002). Before Taliban: Genealogies of the Afghan Jihad. Berkeley: University of California Press. Gregorian, Vartan. (1969). The Emergence of Modern Afghanistan. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Kreindler, Isabelle. (1982). “Lenin, Russian, and Soviet Language Policy,” International Journal of the Sociology of Language, 33. Marshall, James. (2001). “Fight reaction on all fronts,” Weekly Worker, 408, Thursday November 15, 2001. McLeish, John. (1972). “The Soviet Conquest of Illiteracy,” The Alberta Journal of Educational Research, 18. Rishtiya, Sayyid Qasim. (1992). Khaterat-i-Siyasi-i- (Political Memoirs). Peshawar: Markaz-i- Mutaliʿat-i-Afghani. Roʿ I, Yaacov, (ed.) (1984). The USSR and the Muslim World: Issues in Domestic and Foreign Policy. London: George Allen and Unwin. Ruben, Barnet. (1994). The Fragmentation of Afghanistan. New Haven: Yale University Press. Ruttig, Thomas. “Islamists, Leftists—and a Void in the Center: Afghanistan’s Political Parties and Where They Come From (1902–2006).” Schinasi, May. “Sal-nama-i-Mojalla-i-Kabul,” Encyclopedia Iranica (forthcoming). Seraj al-Akhbar-I Afghaniya, Kabul, 1911–1918. Shahrani, Nazif. (1984). “Marxist Revolution and Islamic Resistance in Afghanistan,” in Sharani, N. and Canfield, R. Revolutions and Rebellions in Afghanistan: Anthropological Perspectives. Berkeley: University of California Press. Tarzi, Amin. (2003). “Lessons from the Past: The Saur Putsch,” Afghanistan Report. 1 May 2003, vol. 2, no. 15. Zahir, Payinda M. and M. Yusuf Ilmi. (1339/1960). De Afghanistan de Maʿarif Tarikh Bilingual. Kabul: the Ministry of Education Press.

CHAPTER THREE

LOCATING ‘PASHTO’ IN AFGHANISTAN: A SURVEY OF SECONDARY SOURCES Walter Hakala 3.1. Introduction Writing about the state of Pashto in Afghanistan is not an easy task, and doing so without reference to Pashto (or paḳhto, as might be argued) in Pakistan is quite impossible.1 From the outset, then, there are essentially two difficulties in this task: first, in isolating from the broader Pashto universe a purely (or even partially) Afghan experience, and second, in delimiting what “Pashto” is as a language or set of dialects, whether confined to Afghanistan or located more broadly in Pakistan.2 This chapter attempts to draw out some of the issues inherent in such a project through a primarily derivative discussion of mostly English-language material describing the Pashto language as it

1 I have benefited immensely from the extensive comments of Harold Schiffman and James Caron, both of the Department of South Asia Studies at the University of Pennsylvania, and I am grateful to them for steering me away from a number of errors in interpretation. Responsibility for the errors that remain, however, rests entirely with me. The reader of this study will likely note two great shortcomings, one for which I may beg some indulgence, and the other clearly less excusable. The first is the dearth of references to Soviet scholarship on Pashto, due mostly to my unfamiliarity with Russian. The second absence is that of references to scholarship on Pashto produced in Pashto, Farsi, and Urdu, for which I cannot wholly claim the excuse of linguistic incompetence. All translations (from the Pashto, French, and German) and responsibility for mistranslations are, of course, entirely mine. I am particularly dissatisfied with the incomplete and inconsistent historical narrative that emerges from this survey. A more complete historical account of the language—one that takes into consideration not just the literature but the sociology of Pashto writing and reading in past centuries and combines this with recent fieldwork among Pashto speakers from a variety of backgrounds (such as has been carried out by Rzehak and others)—is a great desideratum. Filling part of the historical gap is Caron’s PhD dissertation (2009), which is a significant contribution to our understanding of the period from approximately 1915 to 1960. Following the preponderance of source materials included here, years are given as Anno Domini and dates are written according to the Gregorian calendar. 2 I have since discovered that Dunning Wilson (1969) was grappling with the same issues in his attempt to define an “Afghan Literature.”

54

walter hakala

exists (more or less) in Afghanistan. Attempting to identify Pashto’s place within a putative diglossic sociolinguistic situation presents a number of challenges. As will be clear from the discussions below, there exists no single written standard Pashto, and this situation has only been underscored, it would seem, by the political instability of the Pashto-speaking region in the past century. Moreover, to the extent that a written record of Pashto may be traced, we observe that it has been influenced by contact with several languages of administration and statecraft, and that the socio-political prestige of these languages has shifted—often dramatically—over time. Indeed, because of both the political instability and the historical involvement of Pashtospeaking peoples in long-distance overland trade and military labor (see Gommans 1995; Wink 1990; Wink 1997) where Pashto itself has been privileged,3 it becomes apparent that the sociolinguistic situation of the Pashtun people is perhaps too complex to be reduced to a neat ‘classical’ diglossic formula, either of the Fergusonian or Fishman type. When viewed as a whole, the research currently available suggests that indexing the sociolinguistic situation of Pashto to shifts in political policy over time would prove less fruitful than models focused on individual language use and life experiences. To produce a convincing historical account of individual language use, however, would require extensive and diverse ethnographic data from the modern period, as well as a combination of literary analysis and studies of the modes of Pashto education and diplomatics for the earlier periods. 3.2. Review of Literature The front matter accompanying the several better-known Pashto grammars (Lorenz 1982; Meyer-Ingwersen 1966; Penzl 1955; Raverty 1987 [1860]; Shafeev and Paper 1964) provides one with a good historical picture of the development of our understanding of Pashto over the course of the last one and a half centuries. Several articles have also been written specifically discussing the variation in pronunciation one finds amongst speakers of Pashto for certain corresponding orthographic symbols (Morgenstierne and Lloyd-James 1928; Penzl 1954). On the basis of perceived degrees of phonemic adherence or non-adherence to 3 Evocative and exotic descriptions of which may be found in the fiction of Rudyard Kipling and in Rabindranath Tagore’s short story “The Cabuliwallah.”

locating ‘pashto’ in afghanistan

55

Pashto orthography, new attempts were made to enumerate and catalogue ‘dialects’ of Pashto, and, in particular, to identify from among them a ‘standard’ Pashto (MacKenzie 1959; Dupree 1984; Henderson 1983). By focusing instead upon morphological and morphosyntactic traits, and through a study of other languages whose speakers live more or less coextensively with those of Pashto, some French-language work has been able to avoid this debate (Fussman 1972; Kieffer 1973; Kieffer 1975; Kieffer 2003; Septfonds 1994). Recently, sociolinguistic studies of Pashto (inspired by the work of Fishman and others) have been made diachronically connecting language use with disparate socio-political realities, including the development of Pashtun civil society (Caron 2009), Dari bilingualism (Miran 1974; Cannon 1963), language policy in the 1970s (Dupree 1978; Miran 1977a; Miran 1977b), the large scale refugee displacements caused by the Soviet war (Pstrusińska 1992), and Taliban rule (Rzehak 2008). 3.3. Defining ‘Afghan’ and ‘Pashtun’ As is well known, the Pashtun people place a great deal of pride upon their language as an identifier of their distinct ethnic and historical identity. While it is clear that not all those who self-identify as ethnically Pashtun themselves use Pashto as their primary language, language does seem to be one of the primary markers of ethnic identity in contemporary Afghanistan. As Crews and Tarzi (2008: 21) note, “the boundary separating Pashtuns from others has been fluid in a variety of contexts. Some self-identified Pashtuns speak only Dari (the dialect of Persian spoken in Afghanistan), while some Tajiks speak only Pashto, though they are not regarded by surrounding Pashtuns as members of their community because they do not own land or belong to the Pashtun tribal structure.” In the case of a Pashtun tribe residing in the southwestern province of Nimroz, the western border of which is with Iran and whose southern border is adjacent to the Pakistani province of Baluchistan, a recent observer notes that while Nurzi are Pashtuns by origin [. . . and m]embers of this tribe still regard themselves as Pashtuns in regions with a predominantly Pashtun population. In regions like Nimroz, where the majority is Baluch, however, most Nurzi switched over to the Baluch language and even adopted a Baluch identity. Here only elderly Nurzi still use Pashto as their primary language and will specify their ethnicity as Pashtun if they are asked (Rzehak 2008: 383n2).

56

walter hakala

Barfield (2007: 11) depicts Pashtun identity as a sort of Venn diagram where those claiming Pashtun descent belong to the largest circle, those using the Pashto language appear as a smaller subset, and those adhering to the Pashtun code of conduct are the most authentic Pashtuns of all.4 The Pashtun reputation for fierce independence and cultural insularity has led one observer to comment that they are “perhaps the largest tribal community living in the world today” (Heston and Nasir 1989: 11; cf. Barfield 2007: 1). While this cultural pride is by no means unique in the South Asian context,5 as “a large, highly self-aware ethnic group” it must be said that this emphasis on a shared language comes in spite of several political and geographic factors that might have otherwise served to produce cultural fissures (Barth 1969: 117). The supposed homeland of the Pashtuns, Paṣtūnḳhwā (‫ﭘښـﺘﻮﳔﻮا‬ Urdu: ‫ ﭘﺨﺘﻮﳔﻮاە‬paḳhtūnḳhwāh, lit. ‘Pashtun side/quarter/locality’), is itself divided by significant mountains, the Sulaiman Range, to which the international border between the modern nations of Pakistan and Afghanistan more or less corresponds. This division was established when, “in 1879, following the Second Anglo-Afghan War, the Afghan government conceded control of all the passes into India to the British and in 1893 the Durand Line was established” (Ahmed and Titus 1992; Hopkins 2009).

4 It would seem to go without saying that Pashtuns adhere to the Islamic faith, overwhelmingly as Sunnis of the Hanafi school. This, rather than language, is a central marker of identity for Barth (1969: 119). The Pashto language for him is “a necessary and diacritical feature, but in itself not sufficient: we are not dealing simply with a linguistic group.” Insofar as it is necessary to “do Pashto, not just speak Pashto,” the bar for authentic belonging within this ethnic group is set quite high relative to other proximal identities. With regard to their interactions with Baluchis in southern Afghanistan, Barth notes that there “is a flow of personnel from Pathan groups to Baluch groups, and not vice versa. Indeed, large parts of some Baluch tribes acknowledge Pathan origin. However, the incorporation of Pathans into Baluch type political structures goes hand in hand with a loss of Pathan ethnic identity, so the categorical dichotomy of Pathan tribes and Baluch tribes remains” (124-5). As such, maintaining Pashtun identity is a matter of some social distinction, though no study to my knowledge considers Pashtun identity through an application of Bourdieu’s theories of a “market of symbolic goods” (see, e.g., Bourdieu 1985, 1991, 1993). By contrast, in regions where Pashtuns enjoy unrivaled political hegemony, non-Pashtun groups tend to adopt a Pashtun style of life, causing the term Pashtūn (or Paḳhtūn as it may be) increasingly in those regions “to designate the whole population in contrast to the population of other, non-Pashto-speaking areas” (Barth 1969: 128). 5 The classic study of this is, of course, Paul Brass’ work (1974), whose main focus is on language and identity in North India (in particular Uttar Pradesh) following Independence. Titus (1998) gives an excellent treatment of colonial stereotypes of Pashtun and Baloch ethnic types, demonstrating how these notions have in themselves become central in the formation of contemporary Pashtun and Baluch identity.

locating ‘pashto’ in afghanistan

57

The terms ‫( اﻓﻐﺎن‬afġhān) and ‫( ﭘښـﺘﻮن‬paṣtūn, Persian: ‫ﭘﺸـﺘﻮن‬, pashtūn, Urdu: ‫ ﭘﺨﺘﻮن‬paḳhtūn), or the more commonly rendered ‘Afghan’ and ‘Pashtun’, have somewhat more complicated connotations than the paragraph above might suggest. Although the political terms Paḳhtūnistān and Afġhānistān are unlikely to be confused with the other, the terms afġhān and paṣtūn often are conflated (see, e.g., a discussion of this in Ahmadi 2008: 46, Barfield 2010: 24). Dupree, writing in 1976, described the common identification of the two terms in Afghanistan, where Rural non-Pushtuns, villagers and nomads, always refer to the Pushtun as Afghan, and consider themselves to be separate breeds of ethnic cat. The ‘pure Pashtun’ or ‘pure Afghan’, according to all, is a person born of Pushtun parents (both father and mother) speaking Pashto as a mother tongue (Dupree 1978: 139).

Outside Afghanistan, and especially within present-day Pakistan and North India, one sees a similar conflation of terms whereby Kabul comes to stand synecdochically for the entire country, as when James Norgate wrote in 1873 that “The Natives of India, although they talk of an Affghan, seldom call the country Affghanistan: with them it is Cabool, Candahar, Jellalabad, Ghuznie, all are Cabool” (Phillott 1942: 59n; Pandey 1970: 85n).6 This is somewhat ironic, for as Barfield (2007: 10) points out, a Pashtun “center of ethnic gravity,” so to speak, would not be located in the Afghan capital, Kabul, but rather with the region that straddles the borders of two nation-states. The close association of Pashtun identity with Paṣtunwālī, a Pashtun code of conduct that stresses “personal autonomy and equality of political rights in a world of equals,” he argues “is practically impossible to fulfill in a class-structured society or in areas where governments prohibit such institutions as blood feuds and demand tax payments” (ibid., following Barth 1969: 132).7 Many of the areas in which Pashto is spoken are

6 Naby (1980: 239) notes that the Pashtuns are “Afghan in Soviet terminology, Pathans to the Indians.” 7 Barfield adds, “It is therefore the people who inhabit the most marginal lands that are poor and beyond government control who see themselves as the only true Pashtuns. These include the Ghilzai border regions of eastern Afghanistan and the Karlanri FATA [Federally-Administered Tribal Areas] regions of the NWFP [Northwest Frontier Province] because only they can maintain the strict standards of autonomy demanded by the Pashtunwali. In richer rural areas, such as the irrigated plains around Peshawar or Kandahar where governments have been long established, this is less possible” (10). In the case of the Kabul-based Muhammadzai of the erstwhile Afghan nobility and other urbanized Pashtuns, “the proximity to the centralized authority

58

walter hakala

generally hilly and, as is typical of such regions elsewhere in the world (e.g., Switzerland or the Caucasus), social contact among groups varies in some places from being quite limited to extensive, with the zones of circulation corresponding especially to topographical features (Crews and Tarzi 2008: 17-8, cf. Scott 2009: 40-63). Statistics on the present population of Pushtuns in Afghanistan are currently impossible to establish with any degree of certainty. If this is the case now, it was as much so prior to the Soviet invasion of the country, and though a census was attempted during the spring of 1979, it likely suffered from a number of structural deficiencies (Naby 1980: 240; Bhattacharya 1984: 126). In 1976, Dupree wrote that “The majority Pushtun constitute about one-half of Afghanistan’s approximately 14 million population.”8 More recently, a great deal of social integration did occur among the diverse groups during and following the 1978 coup and subsequent Soviet invasion as Pashtun refugees crossed primarily into Pakistan’s Northwest Frontier Province and Baluchistan, and southeastern Iran. That this tragedy of war affected the Pashtuns disproportionately more than any other Afghan ethnic group is certain: the vast majority of the Afghan refugees to Pakistan were Pashtuns (Pstrusińska 1992: 359). The total numbers of Pashtun speakers in all of South Asia following the 1978 coup was supposed, in a 1984 estimate, to be 20 million, of whom 9 million were “originating in Afghanistan” (Ahmed and Titus 1992). However, considering the legacy of the war during the 1980s, which disproportionately affected Pashtuns, causing the deaths of some 1.5 million Afghans and the exile of at least four million, figures asserting a large increase in the number of Pashtuns in Afghanistan during the 1980s seem rather suspect. Septfonds wrote in 1993 that As of the middle 1970s (that is to say, before the war, which involved the exodus of three million Afghans in Pakistan and a million in Iran) . . . one could consider Pashto as being the mother tongue of 40% of the population of Afghanistan. Now (in 1993), the total number of the speakers is

is so great that it becomes very difficult for people of any importance to assert and exhibit the autonomy and independence that their identity and position demand” (Barth 1969: 129). “Somewhat incongruously,” Barth adds, “the elite and urban middle class in this purely Afghan kingdom have shown a strong tendency to Persianization in speech and culture, representing . . . a sophisticate’s escape from the impossibility of successfully consummating a Pathan identity under these circumstances” (ibid.). 8 Whether the Pashtun population of Afghanistan was ever a majority or is instead a plurality is a matter of continued contention and not insignificant political consequence.

locating ‘pashto’ in afghanistan

59

approximately 20 million people, of which three quarters live henceforth in Pakistan’s Northwest Frontier Province, Balouchistan and Karachi (significant community) (Septfonds 1994: 19n).

A recent United States government estimate of the number of Pashtuns in Afghanistan as comprising 42% of a total population of 28,513,677 in 2004 with a general growth rate of 4.92% itself admits to “not [taking] into consideration the recent war and its continuing impact” (C.I.A. 2004). The number of significant digits included in this figure—down to the individual—should alert the user of this figure to its speculative and probably statistically-modeled origin (see also Crews and Tarzi 2008: 24). Prior to discussing the changing political fortunes of the Pashtun people and their Pashto language in Afghanistan, there is the matter of the second difficulty, namely that of determining the degree to which ‘Pashto’, as a linguistic phenomenon, lends itself towards being viewed as a unified linguistic concept, constituted either on the level of practical material utterance or as a purely epistemological construct. Pashtuns place a great deal of importance upon a shared literary tradition “that goes back several centuries and includes such renowned figures as Khushal Khan Khattak (d. 1689) and Rahman Baba (d. 1706)” (Addleton 1986: 37). This is in spite of often extremely low literacy rates,9 a lack of a single agreed-upon written standard form of the language, and great variety among the spoken dialects. According to MacKenzie, Pashto shares with Kurdish, “pride of place” among modern Iranian languages:10 these two languages appear similar “as regards both area of territory and number of speakers” and their abundance of dialects (MacKenzie 1959: 231). But while, according to MacKenzie, “the features differentiating one Kurdish dialect from the next are mainly morphological,” with Pashto “the criteria of dialect differentiation . . . are primarily phonological” (ibid.).11 The use in Pashto of a modified Perso-Arabic script “disguises these phonological differences”

9

Rubin (2000: 1790), citing U.N. figures published in 1996 and 1997, indicates that 45% of the male population and only 18% of the female population was literate. These figures were among the lowest in the world. 10 It is interesting here to note the attention given by Raverty—the “father” of English-language Pashto studies—to putative assertions made by both Afghan and English authors (including Raverty) identifying the origins of Pashto in Hebrew and Chaldaic. See, for example, Raverty (1987 [1860]: 15-20; 2001 [1867]). 11 Morphological differences between the dialects do in fact exist, but have not been studied in any systematic manner. Personal communication, James Caron (Oct. 2007).

60

walter hakala

because consonants that are orthographically distinguished are, in several dialects, undifferentiated phonetically, i.e., in speech. That is, the phonologies of certain Pashto dialects differ in the degree to which speakers treat certain orthographic norms as referring to denotationally diacritic sound categories, i.e., to phonemes. As will be detailed below, Pashto dialectology has generally eschewed analysis of orthography, spelling, and morphology in favor of categorizations based on a limited set of phonemic variations, themselves usually confined to an enumeration of pronunciations for a single consonant.12 The ironic results of this analysis issue will be addressed further in the section describing Pashto standardization below. The history of Pashto in Afghanistan in the twentieth century is one of shifting diglossic relations. By shifting diglossia, what is meant is that Pashto speakers in Afghanistan carry out linguistic interactions in a number of speech forms, and that these individual interactions, while often characterized by diglossia, are by no means stable from one interaction to the next nor are they universally prevalent within a given local population. Pashto is frequently spoken in a multilingual environment, coexisting with a related Indo-Iranian language of prestige (e.g., Persian Dari in much of Afghanistan, Urdu in Pakistan), or with “regional languages” whose use is geographically more circumscribed. In the former case, we see a hierarchy whereby Pashto’s relationship with Persian (in Afghanistan) and Urdu (in Pakistan) approximates a situation obtaining throughout much of South Asia, namely that of a “vernacular” occupying a complementary (if sometimes competitive) niche in a linguistic ecosystem dominated by a “cosmopolitan” or classical/literary language (a “cultural division of labor” for which Pollock (1996: 208; 1998: 11), following Bakhtin (1981), suggests the term hyperglossia).13 In the latter case, the dynamics are less certain, as Pashto may be serving functionally as a link language or for a limited functional domain.14 We also observe another situation wherein

12 An exception to this may be found in a recent article by Mirdehghan (2010) whose focus is on a comparative survey of the orthographies employed for Urdu, Persian, and Pashto. 13 The value of the term vernacular as applied to South Asian languages (including, one would presume, Pashto) is questionable, to be sure, and Pollock acknowledged this in a more recent publication (2006: 22). 14 “In the modern army since at least Abdurrahman and to some degree well before him, Pashto was a ritual language used for ranks, technical terminology, and technical commands. Even the attan [a form of dance] was instituted for military exercise.

locating ‘pashto’ in afghanistan

61

Pashto speakers are able to converse in more than one dialect of the language. Again, determining prestige may be difficult as speakers may subjectively attach greater esteem to their own speech forms while at the same time using a different dialect to communicate with an outsider. Grierson, writing in the tenth volume of his monumental Linguistic Survey of India (1921) about the state of Pashto in Afghanistan, has the following comments suggestive of the shifting diglossic situations of the multilingual environment described above: So far as non-British Afghanistan is concerned it must be remembered that the whole of the population in any particular district is not Paṣḥtō-speaking. There is a great mixture of races, viz. Tājiks, Hazārās, Qizilbāshīs, etc., who, according to their origin, speak Persian, Turki, Balōchī, or one of the Kāfir languages. The map [of Pashto-speaking regions] in many cases shows districts where only the majority of the inhabitants are Afghāns and Paṣḥtō speakers . . . On the other hand, in every district of non-British Afghanistan villages of Paṣḥtō speaking Afghāns are constantly met with which are in a locality not shown in the map as Paṣḥtō-speaking, and this mixture is more than ever the case at the present time . . . Round the large cities, Persian is generally the language spoken, even in a Paṣḥtō country, notably in the cases of Jalalabad and Ghazni (Grierson 1921: 6).

Within Afghanistan, the language has had, in the last century, some limited government support, especially as a language of the plurality (if not majority) of its citizens. To a certain extent, the Pashto Academy (Pašto Tolәna), founded in Kabul in 1931 “for the purpose of carrying out research on the Pashto language, folklore, and literature,” has provided some stimulus for standardization, modernization, and language instruction (Shafeev and Paper 1964: 1). In Afghanistan, Pashto has gradually assumed a role as a language of governance and mass media, though rather recently and often with some resistance: Pashto became the official language of Afghanistan by royal decree in 1936.15 However, since the majority of Afghanistan’s officialdom was and is Persian-speaking, it proved impossible to change suddenly from

This all was an icon for the supposed Pashtun military prowess. But the language of the modern army in a more practical way was Dari, since most Pashtuns were exempt from conscription.” James Caron, personal communication, Oct. 2007. Cf. Edwards 2002: 71. 15 Prior to that, “the official language of Afghanistan was Kabuli [also known as Darī], one of the dialects of Tajik. In 1936, Pashto was declared to be an official national language along with Kabuli” (Shafeev and Paper 1964: 1).

62

walter hakala Persian to Pashto as the language of administration. Furthermore, Kabul, Afghanistan’s capital, where all the government offices, ministries, and the only university of the country are located, is Persian-speaking. The language of the royal court has been Persian for a very long time. The traditionally great cultural and social prestige of literary Persian proved another obstacle to the advance of Pashto (Penzl 1955: 11).

While Persian (or Afghan Dari) presently retains some of its legacy as a language of prestige, its role as an “H” variety among native speakers of other Afghan languages has perhaps shifted from being that identified with broader political hegemony (functioning as the language of written/formal-spoken communication) to a more limited role, amongst Pashtuns and other non-Persian Afghans, as a “classical” language or lingua franca (see Weinreich 1980: 4). Clearly, then, the Afghan state has come, in the twentieth century, to have an increasing (if ultimately limited) influence over the development of a “standard Pashto.” Little information, however, is readily available in English on the history of the Afghan Pashto Academy’s engagement with this process (see, e.g., Caron 2009: 42-3). A chapter in this volume adds to what we know about the process by which Pashto came to be included (along with Dari) as an official language of Afghanistan (in the Constitutions of 1963, 1976, 1987, 1990, and 2004). Indeed, Article 35 of the Constitution of 1963 went so far as to declare, “It is the duty of the state to prepare and implement an effective program for the development and strengthening of the national language, Pashtu” (1963, italics mine). It is not certain, however, whether the adjective “national” corresponds to its role in any official capacity or rather to the support for the language as one among other indigenous speech forms within the nation as whole. Several decades earlier, the Afghan intellectual Mahmūd Tarzī (1866–1935) argued in the journal Sirāj al-Aḳhbār (1911–1918) that while Pashtu was a “language of the ‘nation’” and should therefore be advanced as an “official” language of the state, he also believed that . . . only Persian had the capacity to act as the language of the state in a nation composed of a poly-vernacular and largely illiterate citizenry. Consequently, he opted for the continuing preservation of Persian as the “official” language of Afghanistan as well as one of its two “national” languages (Ahmadi 2008: 46-7, emphasis in original).

Tarzī recognized that Persian served historically as a trans-regional link language, and possessed a degree of social prestige to which

locating ‘pashto’ in afghanistan

63

Pashto could not compare. While it might have a legitimate claim to being the “national” language, unlike Persian, which is “famous and current throughout the Transoxiana, India, and even the Ottoman territory,” “the ‘Afghani’ [i.e., Pashto] language” by contrast, “is limited to the pure land of the Afghans and is spoken only by a few million Afghans” (48). The lack of stability in the central government in Afghanistan in the past century explains in part the lack of a sustained policy of Pashto promotion by the central government (compare with Scott 1998: 72-3). Ahmadi claims that the “experiment” to make Afghanistan officially a monolingual (Pashto) state “utterly failed” and following constitutional changes from 1963 onward, “was dully [sic] abandoned.” This gloomy linguistic assessment would seem, on the face of it, to have been borne out by a history of tragic setbacks faced by the Pashtun people in the past fifty years, described in greater detail at the conclusion of this chapter. And yet, the supposed “failure” of Pashto to become the sole de facto language of all state functions came in spite of important developments of what Caron has characterized as an “early form of ethnic nationalism” of the first half of the twentieth century, one that aimed “at cosmopolitan status for Pashto [that] was coterminous with the rise of civil society in Kandahar” (Caron 2009: 42). Caron attributes the formation of a vibrant Pashtobased “civil society” on “a growing integration of elite aristocracy with mercantile elites: networks of men from nominally less royal, though equally powerful and probably wealthier, lineages” (42). Concepts like “civil society” and what Partha Chatterjee has termed “political society” (2004: 39-41) usefully permit historians of language to move beyond a ubiquitous international framework and instead understand how languages function in contextually-specific social domains independently from the monological teleology of the nation state. 3.4. Pashto in Pakistan By way of contrast, the recent history of the linguistic situation of Pashto in Pakistan, while undeniably interlinked with that in Afghanistan, suggests few strong cross-correlates. Pashto is spoken, by one account, in 68.3% of the households in the Northwest Frontier Provinces (NWFP, recently renamed Khyber Pakhtunkhwa), and has a significant number of speakers elsewhere in the country, especially in urban centers (to which large numbers of Pashtuns have immigrated), and particularly

64

walter hakala

in Karachi where, in 8.7% of the households, it is the third most commonly spoken language (after Urdu and Punjabi) (Addleton 1986: 44). However, Pashto in Pakistan has largely been relegated to the status of a regional language, due in part to the dominance of Urdu (which serves as an official language in government and schools, thereby establishing a diglossic relationship with every other language spoken in the country), and also in part because of the sustained linguistic disruptions that characterized approximately one hundred years of British rule. Stemming partly from this legacy of disruption is a movement in Pakistan calling for the creation of at minimum a provincially autonomous Pashtun state, or Paḳhtunḳhwā, to which the Pashto language, for better or worse, has been inextricably tied. However, even within in the NWFP, Shackle (1980) makes clear how, because of the necessarily multilingual nature of the region, Pashto cannot fit comfortably into either the H or L slot of a simple either-or diglossic formulation. Writing about Hindko (an Indo-Aryan language spoken mostly in the eastern districts of the NWFP) speakers in Peshawar, he observes that There can be few monolingual speakers. Some groups have Pers[ian] as a home language. Command of Pashto is increasingly general, while all educated speakers are also fluent in U[rdu]. The Pe[shawari Hindko] of younger speakers, especially those with higher education, tends to contain a marked proportion of partially assimilated elements, especially from U[rdu] and P[ashto] (Shackle 1980: 497).

Though claims are made that Pashto in the NWFP suffers due to promotion of English and Urdu, Shackle points out, with regard to Hindko and other even less commonly spoken languages, that Pashto itself “has certainly gained ground at the expense of Pe[shawari Hindko] in recent years” (497). In nearby Kohat, for example, “Pashto also seems to be spreading amongst long-settled Pathan families whose first language was formerly Ko[hati Hindko]. There are a fair number of Ko[hati Hindko]-speakers, some groups of which have Persian as a home language, but bilingualism with Pashto appears to be general” (486-7). As is clear from this, few Pashto speakers, whether in Pakistan or Afghanistan, have ever lived in entirely monolingual environments.16 Moreover, the diglossic role played by Pashto for these

16 The exceptions are primarily for certain women and in the tribal regions, for in these populations, the range of possible interactive situations may be limited.

locating ‘pashto’ in afghanistan

65

speakers is itself calibrated relative to the shifting roles played by other languages within that system, i.e., its status can vary from H to L and other levels in between, depending on which other languages are also in use in the area and the linguistic repertoires of individual language users. 3.5. Categorizing the Varieties of Pashto Some debate continues today about how best to categorize the varieties of Pashto spoken in Afghanistan and Pakistan. Mackenzie (1959) and Henderson (1983) have both independently advanced the notion of there being four dialects of Pashto, “varieties on the basis of the pronunciation of the second consonant in the name of the language” (Henderson 1983: 595), each associated with a population center and distinct geographical range. This would agree, according to Louis Dupree, with the work of the Soviet linguist, N. Dvoryankov, had he also been “able to engage in field research in Pakistan” (Dupree 1984: 761). Dupree summarizes this “remarkable incidence of scholarly convergence” in the following table:

‫ږښ‬

Henderson Mackenzie

Pәṣto Pәšto

ṣ ž Kandahar š ž Quetta

Pәçto

ç

g NE

Paxto

x

g Peshawar

Dvoryankov

Southwest (Kandahar) Southeast (Quetta)

Kandaharian (Western) Ningraharian Northwest (Central Ghilzai) (Eastern) Northeast (Yusufzai) Paktyan (Southern)

I have added an additional column to Dupree’s chart to illustrate the correspondence of the two Pashto letters ‫ ږ‬and ‫ ښ‬and their pronunciations as reported by Henderson (Henderson 1983: 595). Thus, in addition to the variety one might find in the pronunciation of the word ‫( ﭘښـﺘﻮ‬e.g., in Kandahar as Pәṣto, in Quetta as Pәšto, etc., as per the chart), one might also find ‫‘( ﻣﻮﻧږ‬we’) pronounced mūnž in Kandahar and Quetta, and mūng in both NE and Peshawar (following Henderson’s territorial categories). Dupree, however, seems to have misattributed Dvoryankov’s latter two categories. On the basis of phonology, Central Ghilzai corresponds more closely to Pakhtyan and Yusufzai than to Ningraharian (Caron, personal communication).

66

walter hakala U.S.S.R. CHINA

IRAN Herat

AF

A GH

N

IST

KABUL

AN

Wardak

x

ç

Peshawar

s. Kandahar

š Quetta

PA

S KI

N TA INDIA

Map 1. Variations in the pronunciation of ‫( ښ‬based on Henderson 1983)17

Henderson (1983) provided a map (Map 1) onto which he graphed the areas in which different pronunciations of the second consonant of the name of the language, i.e., ‫ښ‬, are prevalent. It is not possible to deduce from this map—which Septfonds describes as “simplistic, [and] with gross errors” (1994: 31)—how the consonant ‫ ښ‬is pronounced in other areas in which Pashto is spoken, especially those areas extending west and north from the “ṣ” region. A study that would include such regions remains a desideratum. That Pashtuns are also the dominant ethnic group beyond the areas Henderson has charted in his map is well-documented and presented in numerous published maps (see Map 2). This map, however, cannot show the much broader pattern of Pashtun settlement as a minority community in Afghanistan (contrast this with the more useful pair of maps appearing in Rubin 1993: 473). Moreover, it cannot demonstrate the degree of bilingualism in those areas in which Pashtuns are a majority community (cf. also Grierson 1921: 6, quoted above). Presumably then, many, though not all, “Afghans” (or

17 Permission to reprint this map was granted by Jonathan Rodgers, SecretaryTreasurer of the American Oriental Society.

Qandahar

Tarin Kowt

BRAHUIS

QANDAHAR

Lashkar Gah

HELMAND

20

(Pathans)

BALOUTCHES

ZABOL

Qalat

2 Gardez

6

Feyzabad

3

7

8

1: Baraki Barak 2: LOWGAR 3: Jalalabad 4: NANGARHAR 5: Kabul (Kaboul) 6: KABUL 7: Mehfar 8: LAGHAM 9: Aasdabad 10: KONARHA 11: Mahnude 12: KAPISA 13: Talogan 14: TAKHAR

4

10 NURISTANIS 9

14 BADAKHSHAN

12 11

PAKTIA

1

5

15

BAGLAN

16 25

GHAZNI

Ghazni

26

(Hazaras) 23 24

18 Baglan

17

13

(Tadjiks)

CHINE

15: Charikar 16: PARVAN 17: Qondus 18: QONDUZ 19: Kholm 20: SAMANGAN 21: Mazare-Sharif 22: BALKH 23: Bamian 24: BAMIAN 25: Kowle Ashrow 26: VARDAK 27: Qal’eh-ye Now 28: BADGHISAT

LAHNDASINDHIS

PAKISTAN

PAÏSAKIS

HINDIS

INDE

CACHMIRIS

BOUROUCHOS

PAMIRIS

TADJIKISTAN

Map 2. Distribution of major ethnic groups in Afghanistan (Veyrac 1997)

BALOUTCHES

Zaranj

AFGHANS

ORUZGAN

21 19 22 PERSANS

JOWZJAN

Sheberghan

Chaghcharan

Meymaneh

GHOWR

28

(Pachtouns)

DASHT-E KHASH

Farah

27

(Tadjiks)

FARAH

Herat

PERSANS SELSELEH

IRAN

FARYAB

TURCS

TURKMENISTAN

OUZBEKISTAN

locating ‘pashto’ in afghanistan 67

68

walter hakala

“Pachtouns”) in Helmand, Dasht-e Khash (i.e., Nimroz), and Farah also have some familiarity with Pashto.18 Significant numbers of Pashtuns are, however, present throughout almost the entire country. Over the last century, many Pashtuns were forcibly resettled by the government in the north of the country (Barfield 2005: 5) while others took advantage of the incorporation of new territories into the Afghan state structure to extend preexisting trade networks and exploit traditionally non-Pashtun lands for pasture and settled farming (Barth 1969: 126). Edwards (2002: 302) suggests that these patterns of Pashtun settlement throughout Afghanistan are partly responsible for delaying what would otherwise be an inevitable partition of the country into autonomous ethnic enclaves. Other studies have divided the language into two groups of dialects. Raverty cites with approval the lexicographical work of Nawābullah Yār Ḳhān, who in his Ḳhullāṣat al-Ansāb distinguishes a western or “upper” bar pashtūn dialect from an eastern or “lower” lar puḳhtūn, the former “having some affinity to the Persian” and the latter “containing many Sanskrit and Hindi words” (Raverty 1987 [1860]: 16; see also Raverty 1867: 95,865). Henderson notes that Darmesteter also gives two varieties: “Pashtû” and “Pakhtû” (Darmesteter 1888:xxxv ff; cited in Henderson 1983: 595), corresponding roughly with those Pashto-speaking areas outside and within Pakistan’s NWFP (Khyber Pakhtunkhwa), respectively. Some seventy-five years later, Shafeev wrote that Pashto “is divided into two groups (branches) of dialects: a western group (with a center in Kandahar) and an eastern group (with a center in Peshawar)” (Shafeev and Paper 1964: 1). Grierson, despite distinguishing between essentially two types of Pashto, the Northeast and the Southwest varieties, on the usual basis of the pronunciation of the consonants ‫ ښ‬and ‫( ږ‬Grierson 1921: 7), “implicitly recognized three [varieties] (the list of vocabulary is divided into three columns, of which one is dedicated to Waziri)” (113-4; discussed in Septfonds 1994: 31). This perhaps is what led Penzl to declare in 1954 that though “[the] dialectical variation of Pashto is considerable . . . only three types

18 Rzehak (2008: 183), however, reports, “Persian is the main language of administration and education in Nimroz Province, whereas Baluchi may be used, along with Persian, as the lingua franca in everyday communication, even by non-Baluch people.” These “non-Baluch people” of southwestern Afghanistan include Pashtuns, “mostly of the Ghilzai tribe, who also use Persian as their primary language in this region” (ibid.).

locating ‘pashto’ in afghanistan

69

have emerged: The type of Peshawar; the Eastern type; the Kandahar type” (Penzl 1954: 74). Two subsequent German grammars of Pashto continue to advance the “two branches” model. On the one hand, Lorenz, basing his grammar largely upon Shafeev and other Soviet linguists, states that “one arranges the dialects into the west or southwest group, Paẋto (Pashto), with the center in Kandahar, and the east or northeast’s group, Paxto (Pachto, Pakhto), with the center in Peshawar (north Pakistan)” (Lorenz 1982: 15). Meyer-Ingwersen, on the other hand, citing MacKenzie (1959), differentiates between spoken Pashto’s “large number of dialects” and the “language of literature and writing of the cultural centers Kandahar, Kabul and Jelalabad (Afghanistan) and Peshawar (Pakistan) [which are] substantially more uniform” (Meyer-Ingwersen 1966: 1-2). He writes that for the latter, “Differences exist here only in the realization of some consonant phonemes, in the differentiation of the short vowels . . . and in the rendition of fewer morphemes.” More recent scholarship has shown the actual situation of Pashto dialects to be far more complex than the two-, three-, or fourfold divisions (and especially those based exclusively on consonantal phonology) might suggest. Kieffer, responding to the notion of Pashto being divided into “hard” (where ‫ ښ‬and ‫ ږ‬are pronounced as a velar fricative and velar occlusive, respectively) and “soft” dialects (where they are pronounced as an unvoiced retroflex fricative sibilant and alveolar fricative, respectively), writes, Thus appears in the region of pašto [i.e., the ‘southeast’ region] a group of geographically intermediate speeches B, clearly distinct from the ‘hard’ [i.e., ‘northwest’] dialects (A) and the ‘soft’ [i.e., ‘southwest’] dialects (C), which are localized in a median zone which clearly separates the mašreqi [‘eastern’] (or ĵalālābāti) zone from the maγrebi [‘western’] (or kandahāri) zone and which we will call manjanәy, ‘central, intermediate’. The eccentricity does not stem from a particular pronunciation of the phonemes that are usually used in order to differentiate the dialectal regions. Indeed these speeches B have, on the contrary, the most unexpected divergences that distinguish it, without hesitation, from the speeches A and C; if they do not present any trace of uniformity, they have, however, a major and clearly distinctive coherence; they all are characterized by unique phonetic features and by certain characteristics of their grammatical structure (Kieffer 1975: 5).

These unique phonetic features are constituted not by the pronunciation of consonants (i.e., the usual ‫ ږ‬and ‫ ښ‬criteria), but certain vowel shifts:

70

walter hakala . . . the metaphony or vowel shift of the waziri type, a/o, o/e, u/i summarizes this change, which in Afghanistan, appears mainly in the speech of the wazir and jadrāṇ ethnic groups. According to materials of the ALA [l’Atlas Linguistique de l’Afghanistan] the metaphony of the waziri type appears in the speech of the following ethnic groups: wazir, jadrāṇ (marwat, alixanxel, giyanxel) then in taṇ i, gerbәz and esmā‘elxel, which are perhaps also of jadrāṇ or are allied with them (Kieffer 1973: 18).

Septfond’s grammar Le Dzadrâni: Un parler pashto du Paktyâ (Afghanistan) (1994) and Kieffer’s Grammaire de l’ōrmuṛī de Baraki-Barak (Lōgar, Afghanistan) (2003) clearly go a long way towards providing linguists with valuable lexical and grammatical material for two hitherto “unrecognized” dialects of Pashto. The value of these works rests in their being able to draw more useful distinctions among Pashto dialects beyond the overused and simplistic division into “varieties on the basis of the pronunciation of the second consonant in the name of the language” (Henderson 1983: 595), a facile distinction whose descriptive use is clearly limited. 3.6. Determining a Standard Pashto One further difficulty lies in the matter of determining (both in the sense of delimiting and constituting) a “standard Pashto.” Several different sources attest to the speech of Kandahar being the “prestige dialect” in Afghanistan, and perhaps throughout the greater Puḳhtūnistān. So Henderson remarks on how “speakers of Pәçto or Paxto trying to imitate speakers of Pәs̠to (the prestige dialect in Afghanistan) usually replace s̠ with š” (Henderson 1983: 595n). Penzl cites several authors who have given support to this notion: The Kandahar type of Pashto, which, because of its occurrence in the provinces of Kandahar, Farah, and Herat . . . , is often called the ‘southwestern’ or ‘southern’ type, has enjoyed great prestige inside and outside of Afghanistan. R. Leach (JASB, vol. 8) states in 1839: ‘the Candaharee is reckoned the purest dialect.’ C.E. Biddulph (Afghan Poetry of the Seventeenth Century, 1890) calls the ‘Northern dialect’ rough and harsh, the ‘Southern dialect as spoken in Herat, Kandahar, Quetta’ a soft one. G. Morgenstierne (Report on a Linguistic Mission to Afghanistan, p. 10) states in 1924: ‘Just as in India the Peshawar dialect is predominant, a modified Kandahar dialect is in use among the higher classes in Kabul’ (Penzl 1955: 9).

Although, as Penzl writes, “we cannot say . . . that all the distinctive features of the Kandahar dialect are recognized as standard Pashto

locating ‘pashto’ in afghanistan

71

within Afghanistan,” the fact that “it is the only dialect which has a phonemic system corresponding to the prevailing orthography” has been important in determining “the great prestige of the Kandahar dialect” (Penzl 1955: 9) as the “cradle of Pashto orthography” (Penzl 1955: 9; Penzl 1954: 81). “This,” according to Mackenzie, is “in direct opposition to Morgenstierne’s earlier hypothesis” from his 1932 Report on a Linguistic Mission to North-west India (MacKenzie 1959: 233). In support of “this ‘north-eastern’ hypothesis,” Mackenzie describes an “earlier orthographic tradition than that now prevailing:” In the earliest known Pashto manuscript, written in ah 1061/ad 1651, ‫ڊ‬ (with a subscript dot) is written for j, ‫ ږ‬. . . for ž, and ۬‫( د‬with central dot) for ğ. These signs were still used in a MS Dīwān of Mīrzā, dated ah 1101/ad 1690, but were abandoned shortly thereafter (MacKenzie 1959: 233).

Mackenzie’s rejoinder, then, to Penzl’s attribution of linguistic priority (if not temporal, then in literary normativity) to the Kandahar dialect, is that while “the Kandahar dialect has preserved all the consonant phonemes expressed in the standard dialect . . . it has put [the full range of vowel phonemes] to use in novel ways” (MacKenzie 1959: 259). He goes on to write that It is an obvious inference that an older stage of Pashto [than the Kandahari form privileged by Penzl], still current in the seventeenth century if the orthographic evidence is trustworthy, combined a ‘south-western’ consonant system with a ‘north-eastern’ vowel phoneme system . . . It is this conceptual phonemic scheme, then, therefore, which is reflected in the verse of Xusḥ āl Xān and Raḥmān Bābā [sic]. Apart from the evident value of this ‘Standard Pashto’, in its discreet native dress, as a universal literary medium among Pushtuns, it appears to have another important application. It permits the description of Pashto morphology in more accurate and universal terms than does any single dialect (MacKenzie 1959: 259).

In other words, Mackenzie suggests locating a ‘Standard Pashto’ within the very narrow limits of a literary tradition concluding with two seventeenth century poets’ literary and, more importantly to Mackenzie, orthographic productions. Despite the universal reverence Pashtuns seem to feel for this shared tradition, the fact that this linguistic ‘standard’ ceased to be “current” not long after these two poets stopped producing poems does not seem to bother Mackenzie. Indeed, Mackenzie reports with great satisfaction in a post-script to his essay that “A meeting of Pashtun scholars and writers from both Afghanistan and Pakistan, held in Kabul during August 1958, proposed a number of

72

walter hakala

standardizations in the use of the present alphabet. These proposals . . . represent in the main a welcome return to the classical standard described above” (MacKenzie 1959: 259). This has had ironic results. For while “the [written] language has, therefore, been a literary vehicle, widely understood, for at least four centuries” (MacKenzie 1959: 259), as the number of literate persons able to write in Pashto has increased, so has “a natural tendency to use phonetic rather than standard spellings.” Preferences for phonetic spellings among speakers of dialects with fewer diacritical sound categories have thus, in MacKenzie’s view, confounded attempts to standardize the orthography of these dialects (ibid.). Yet, and this has especially been the case in Afghanistan, one also sees in recent years an attempt to “Pashto-ize” the spellings of Persian, Urdu, and Arabic loanwords, introducing specifically Pashto graphemes and lexical morphology in place of historically more justified (or etymologicallysupported) spellings. An example of this would be in the Afghan spelling of the Persian ‫ ﺟﻮاﱏ‬jawānī, ‘youth’ as ‫ څﻮاﻧۍ‬dzawānay, in which one sees a preference in the orthography for the specifically Pashto letter ‫ څ‬over the Perso-Arabic ‫ج‬, and in the morphology, for the replacement of the Persian abstract noun suffix ‫ ی‬with an equivalent Pashto suffix, the diphthong ‫ۍ‬. For the southwestern dialects (e.g., that of Kandahar), which possess a larger inventory of consonant phonemes, this results in lexical forms whose pronunciations vary markedly from the historical Persian prototypes. One also sees this sort of innovation in the coining of “pure” Pashto terms, in which lexical elements perceived as specific to Pashto are combined to produce neologisms. For other dialects of Pashto that have retained relationships with distinct and normative diglossic “H” languages (e.g., Dari in Kabul, or Urdu and English in the NWFP), and whose speakers are more likely to be multilingual, these innovations have not always been widely accepted. Indeed, it would seem that the changes in orthography and vocabulary championed by the Pashtun intellectuals of Kabul, have had a more jaundiced reception by the Pashto literary class in Peshawar.19 This, in many cases, may be directly attributed to the uneven historical interference of other “H” languages (especially Persian and Urdu) for these speakers in the process of acquiring primary literacy.

19

James Caron, personal correspondence, Oct. 2007.

locating ‘pashto’ in afghanistan

73

3.6.1. Origins of Literary Pashto and Language Policy It may be worth remarking here that Pashto is generally agreed to belong to the Eastern Iranian group of Indo-European languages, “derived from Zend or from a dialect closely allied with Zend” (Grierson 1921: 9). The lexicon however borrowed heavily from neighboring Indic sources, and continues to be influenced by Urdu and Persian. Grammatically, there are many elements of Pashto (e.g., postpositions, the ergative case) that would be quite unfamiliar to speakers of modern Persian, and which on the surface make the language appear more similar to Urdu. For this reason, it is rather difficult to fit PersianPashto and Urdu-Pashto diglossias neatly into categories based on supposedly shared “genetic” relationships. The above-mentioned mid-seventeenth century manuscript, the Ḳhair al-Bayān (‘Excellence of Expression’), written by Bāyazīd Anṣārī (1526–1574) (Rahman 2002: 354) and associated with a contemporaneous Islamic revivalist and millenarian movement (Malik 1993; MacLean 2003; Faruqui 2005: 498-9; Moin 2010: 170n), forms the earliest remaining part of a tradition of Pashto texts written in the area of what might be called popular religion. The second text, the Maḳhzan al-Islām (‘Treasury of Islam’), written by Aḳhwānd Darwezah (1533–1615) as a sort of counter-polemic to Anṣārī, is according to Rahman, . . . a collection of famous religious texts in Pashto. Moreover, the language of explication is also Pashto. The preface, however, is in Persian and the author says that he intends to explain the beliefs of Islam for the Afghans. . . . This book is said to have been taught both in the madrassas and at homes [sic]. It was also read out to those who could not read it themselves (Rahman 2002: 355).

Most fascinating of all, however, is the third manuscript on Rahman’s list, MullāʿAbd al-Rashīd’s Rashīd al-Bayān (‘Guide of Expression’) written in ah 1124 (1712/3 ad). This book “was read by women in their homes and was a kind of sermon in verse” (355). According to Sayedul Abrar, there were “two classes of readers who read Pashto books: village women and storytellers in Hujras [‘a room for entertaining visitors’]” (Abrar 1979: 90; cited in Rahman 2002: 359). Rahman writes, The village women were not formally educated. They were, however, taught the Quran and some of the rudiments of religion by an older woman known respectfully as Bibi (lady). The Bibi sometimes used a

74

walter hakala Pashto textbook, often a versified one for interest, to teach the basics of Islam. From their exposure to the Arabic script of the Quran some of the Bibis also picked up literacy in the Pashto script which, being in naskh after the initial stages, was more similar to Arabic than to Persian. The women did not, however, confine themselves to religious texts. They also read story books, also in verse, which they bought from vendors. These were inevitably romances, notably of Adam/Durkhani, Jalat/Mehbooba, Musa Khan/Gul Makai, and so on, and were already part of the oral folklore since time immemorial. Professional story-tellers sang them in the hujras (men’s common rooms) in Pashtun villages and they too purchased the same books to which the women found access (Abrar, 1979: 91). These popular books were very cheap. They had to be—after all, neither village women, madrassas students or story-tellers had much [disposable] income (Rahman 2002: 359).

From this discussion, it may be inferred that one of the main driving forces behind the development of Pashto as a written literary language was its potential as a medium for women’s education.20 With very limited access to the outside world, and in particular, to unrelated men, Pashtun women naturally would have little exposure to or need for the lingua franca, Persian. However, exposure to Arabic literacy was encouraged, though often this literacy was limited to inculcating a rather passive capacity for recitation and memorization of the Qurʾān. Actual exegesis was conducted instead through Pashto commentaries and translation. In other words, the development of a written Pashto was, according to Abrar and Rahman, at least initially spurred by the pedagogical exigencies of Pashtun women. This conclusion, however, must be taken with a grain of salt. As limited as literacy was (and remains) among Pashto-speaking men, it is difficult to demonstrate that women were able to exercise then a degree of financial agency sufficient to institute, as Rahman and Abrar suggest, an entirely new literary tradition. That many of the earliest Pashto sermons were versified suggests that they circulated in oral form, being memorized and transmitted both in public (e.g., in mosques and in the male quarters of a household) and in private (e.g., among women in worship).21

20

Raverty also holds this view. See Raverty (1987 [1860]: 26-7). I am grateful to James Caron (personal communication, Oct. 2007) for suggesting this to me. 21

locating ‘pashto’ in afghanistan

75

Rahman (2002: 358) cites a couplet from the Rashīd al-Bayān:

‫پە ﭘښـﺘﻮ ﻣﯽ دﻳﻦ ﺑﻴﺎن ﻛړ‬ ‫ﺳـﺘﺎ د ﭘﺎرە ﻣﯽ آﺳﺎن ﮐړ‬ I have explained the Faith in Pashto [Thus] I have made it easy for you

This couplet, in many ways, illustrates the paradox of Pashto literacy. For those few men who had the opportunity to gain it, the language of literacy would with few exceptions be that of the state—Persian or occasionally Hindavi (in the case of the Sur Sultans in the midsixteenth century, cf. Alam 2004: 123), and in British India, from the mid-nineteenth century onwards, increasingly Urdu and English (see Hakala 2010)—or that of the faith (i.e., Arabic). Were significant Pashto manuscripts to have survived from prior to the 17th century, Rahman’s and Abrar’s suggestions concerning the indispensable role women played in the establishment of the Pashto literary tradition might be more tenable. For, in India at least, prior to the Mughal conquest of India, Persian did not appear to have the same degree of widespread currency among the ruling Afghan Lodi and Sur Sultans of Delhi that it would come to have under Mughal rule. Bābur, the first Mughal king of India, reported that few of the Afghans could speak it at all (Babur and Beveridge 1970: 459-60; cited in Alam 2004: 123-4). Until the death of Aurangzeb in 1707, it must be remembered that most of what currently constitutes the Pashto-speaking zone was under Mughal suzerainty (if not direct control ) and Persian-language administrative structures (Faruqui 2005). Pashto as a literary register underwent a series processes that Sheldon Pollock (2006: 23) has termed “vernacularization:” Vernacularization is here understood . . . as the historical process of choosing to create a written literature, along with its complement, a political discourse, in local languages according to models supplied by a superordinate, usually cosmopolitan, literary culture. The process can thus be broken down into three connected components. Two[:] literization [i.e., subjecting a linguistic form to a written form], and literarization [the creation of a literature dependent on written texts (see Pollock 2006: 4-5)][, and a] third, closely related to the latter, is “superposition,” or the presence of a dominant language and literary formation.

To this end, MacKenzie argues that early Pashto poetry, though “on the Persian model,” retained a distinctively non-Persian qualitative (or ‘accentual’) system of prosody, the Perso-Arabic quantitative (or

76

walter hakala

‘chronemic’) system of ʿarūẓ (‘meter’) being unable to accommodate the frequent occurrence in the Pashto lexicon of double- and tripleconsonant clusters (MacKenzie 1995: 339-41). It is apparent, then, that there remain some slippages in the manner in which Pashto was “vernacularized”: its prosodic system is imperfectly accommodated by its othography,22 a fact that has not been eliminated despite Pashto literature’s heavy debt to Persian (through what Pollock calls “literarization” and “superposition”). One clear cause for the relative decline of the prestige of Persian has been the increase of access and of value attributed to learning certain traditionally European languages. In an interesting but deeply flawed article by G. Cannon in 1963, one gets a sense of the often agonistic role played by proponents of these European languages as they vied not only for cultural, but political influence in the region (Cannon 1963). Written from the perspective of a 1960s U.S.-model development-oriented academic, his recommendations of statist modernization projects (e.g., the end of rote learning, more modern and relevant pedagogical materials, “an official single national language and a single Western foreign one” [319]) are hardly surprising. Towards this end, Cannon describes how, “In the sense of literacy programs, the presence of a common writing system for the two languages [Persian and Pashto] is advantageous. Only a few additional symbols must be learned for the representation of the Pashto dental affricative stops and retroflexes” (314-5). It does, however, provide a good snapshot of the Kabul education system from the perspective of an outsider and top-level administrator at the start of what has been characterized as a “period of political liberalization” from 1963–1973 known as New Democracy that saw remarkable increases in the number of students at all levels including enrollments at Kabul University (see also Rubin 1992: 79-80). In Cannon’s view, students who opted to study English were at a disadvantage compared to those who had instead elected to attend the German-medium high school Nedjat or the French-medium Estaklal where the teachers are usually native speakers. In other secondary schools, where English served as the required European language,

22 This is part of what Pollock calls “literization.” On Arabic prosody, see MeredithOwens 1979 (compare with Blochmann 1872 and Pybus 1924). For other comments on the limitations of Pashto’s modified Perso-Arabic script, see Mackenzie 1959: 231. It would, however, be difficult to identify any language with a conventional script that perfectly represents the entire phonemic inventory of its speakers.

locating ‘pashto’ in afghanistan

77

“the instructors are primarily Afghans who labor under the serious disadvantage of being the only ones who are exposing the students to English” (316). When he was writing, only students of Estaklal could go on to attend the Kabul University Medical School (where classes were taught by professors from the Sorbonne), students of Nedjat, the sciences (taught by University of Cologne faculty), and students of English, agriculture and engineering (taught by faculty from the University of Wyoming). The author is obviously alarmed by the prospect of increasing interest in Russian language (as a means of entering the Russian-medium Afghan Army School), and the “increasing number of Communist Chinese who are studying Persian or Pashto” (318). Calling Afghanistan a “new Babel” (318), he applauds—prematurely for sure—the government of India, which, has “boldly made Hindi its national choice” (319). While one is left with little doubt as to which foreign language he would like to see as “official,” and that he leaves ambiguous which “official single national language” he wants privileged above the other suggests that by this time, Pashto was seen to be approaching equal political standing with Dari. Beyond the capital, however, Pashto, admittedly with Persian, has, generally speaking, occupied a more hegemonic “H” role in terms of traditional theories of diglossia. With regard to the highly-localized languages of the Hindu Kush, Pashto appears to occupy a comparatively privileged place, as is described by Fussman (1972). Using data compiled by Morgenstierne from the early part of the 20th century (and in particular, during a visit in 1924). Fussman endeavored to produce the Atlas Linguistique des Parlers Dardes et Kafirs. Due to its focus on the Dardic and Kafir languages, its applicability to the study of Pashto is rather limited. It is useful, however, in gaining insight into the historical development of what Penzl in 1955 described as the “advance of Pashto,” in this case, at the expense of the Dardic and Kafir languages of northeast Afghanistan. In the passage that follows, Fussman describes how Morgenstierne’s work, while suffering from “very incomplete accounts of vocabulary; nuances of meaning little or poorly noted; phonetic transcription, not phonologic; [and] above all very little information on morphology and syntax,” is nevertheless, “for those who hail from the school of historical linguistics . . . truly irreplaceable.” From their contact with the great languages of civilization (Persian and Pashto), the Dardic and Kafir languages (even those in which the structure is quite solid, like Pashai) are continuing to adopt borrowed

78

walter hakala elements; new sounds appear (‘f’ in Pashai, for example); the typical vocabulary, assimilate Persian and Pashto words in increasing numbers, even the names of numbers. This situation is by no means new. From 1924 onwards, however, it has been considerably aggravated. Thanks to transistors, radio broadcasts are heard in almost every village; Persian, Pashto, Urdu, Hindi, English even, have begun to be understood by many of these mountain dwellers formerly isolated from the so-called civilized world. Roads are being opened, through which merchants and visitors are coming. Allophone garrisons are being installed at strategic points along the frontier. To give a recent example, in May 1970, during a visit for a few hours in Birkoţ, I was able to meet a Chitrali (speaking Khowār), some Kams (speaking Kati), some Kohistanis (speaking Bashkarīk), a Sawi, a Guĵur shepherd, and especially Uzbek soldiers from the garrison, some Taĵiks who usually live in Mazar-i Sharif, coming there as tourists, some Afghan officers (speaking Pashto), some Afghan visitors (speaking Pashto), one among whom having come from the valley of Wardak and the others from Bajaur. Everyone understood Pashto, several also understood Persian. In these conditions, it was evident that the phonological systems of certain dialects were becoming altered quickly, that the dialectical differences were eroded and that the vocabularies adopt foreign elements: for any comparative and historic study, the materials collected by Morgenstierne, prior to the introduction of the transistor, the progress of education and the opening of roads, are irreplaceable (Fussman 1972: 5-6).

Aside from the often insurmountable difficulty of organizing linguistic expeditions into these areas, Fussman notes how quickly the Dardic and Kafir languages of Afghanistan have been overwhelmed by the outside world, such that within a few years of Morgenstierne’s expedition, Tirāhī and Woţapūrī, for example, had become dead languages (Fussman 1972: 4). By 1970, Pashto had clearly come to occupy a position of great practical influence, though it also faced resistance in its expanded role within the government of Afghanistan. Works from the 1970s describe the institutional strains that the implementation of Pashto (as both the national and one of two official languages) was placing upon nonPashtun Afghan minorities (Miran 1977a; Miran 1977b; Dupree 1978). These strains, in some ways, would seem to attest to the successes Pashto was realizing in its relatively new capacity as official language. Miran’s work, in particular, introduces some of the pedagogical problems attending the increasing institutionalization of Pashto-Persian (or Pashto-Darī) bilingualism in Afghan schools (Miran 1974; Miran 1977b). The situation, however, appeared quite different for several other minority groups who chose to speak Pashto as a second language. These include

locating ‘pashto’ in afghanistan

79

. . . the Brahuis and Baluches who are living in the southwestern portion of Afghanistan; the Dards who live in the northeast portion of the country and speak the Pashai, Guwarbati, Sawi, Tirahi language; the Gujars who speak dialects of Hindi/Urdu and Pashto; the Jats, small gypsy bands of wandering tradesmen who speak Pashto, as well as Dari; and some of the small groups such as the Hindus and Sikhs also speak Pashto. All of these small ethnic groups who speak Pashto either as a first, second, or third language, with the exception of the Hindus and Sikhs, learn Pashto because of geographical distribution, rather than for political, economic, or social reasons. The Hindus and Sikhs learn Pashto because of economic reasons, i.e., to use with monolingual Pashto speakers in transactions of trade and other business matters (Miran 1977b: 124).

The analysis Miran gives of issues raised by Afghan bilingualism and possible diglossia among various Afghan ethnic groups, however, is not especially involved, and indeed quite limited in its practical scope.23 Miran may have been rather too sanguine in his hopes for extending Pashto diglossia among non-Pashtun groups. Other accounts argue instead that the policy of official bilingualism and “with the increased influence of Iran in the region over the past decade [i.e., the 1970s], and the slow extension of its culture and language in the wake of its growing political and economic power, the Persian language was gaining ever wider acceptance in Afghanistan” (Naby 1980: 242). Others have noted that Pashto works from the same period attest to the inability of Pashto-speaking elected officials to participate in Dari-language national debates.24 One would like to see Miran or other future scholars grapple more productively with the issues he raises and suggest pedagogical means by which to overcome them. A misconception has arisen that by the 1980s, Pashtun political successes (and by extension, the success of the Pashto language) had been undone by the Afghan-Soviet war. Pstrusińska (1992) argues, in a fiercely polemic and, unfortunately, historically misinformed essay treating recent Afghan sociolinguistics, that the war was no more than an anti-Pashtun pogrom. The Soviets are implicated at the beginning of the essay for “The unavoidable process of cultural discontinuity which accompanies war, [and which] has been intensified by the conscious demographic, ethnic and linguistic policies of the communist regime . . . based on Soviet national policy and possibly recommended

23 Some of the languages mentioned (especially Tirahi) were extinct long before Miran carried out his work in the 1970s. See the extended quotation of Fussman (1972: 5-6) above. 24 James Caron citing ʿAbdullāh Baḳhtanai in personal communication, Oct. 2007.

80

walter hakala

and prepared by the Soviets” (359). Noting how the population of war refugees is overwhelmingly Pashtun, she concludes, apparently without considering it hyperbole, “the first priority of the regime was to rid Afghanistan of Pashtun (Afghan!) people” (360). She documents a few examples of “the reversal of Pashtun dominance, and the supremacy of the Pashto language” in political discourse (360-1), the rise of an anti-Pashto party (361), and the decline of state sponsorship and promotion of Pashto through the Pashto Academy and schools (361). Together with this, she notes the rise of the Russian language (at the expense of Pashto and English) in secondary and higher education, which she fears “will lead in the not-so-distant future, if continued, to dependency on Russian as a medium of interethnic communication” (!) (362) and the insertion of communist and military terminology into all Afghan languages (363). Under the Soviets, attempts were apparently made to bring Dari (a form of Persian spoken in Afghanistan) closer to the Tajik (also considered to be a form of Persian) spoken then in the Tajik Soviet Socialist Republic (363). Many of Pstrusińska assertions, while if not entirely inaccurate (see Crews and Tarzi 2008: 20-1), are in need of significant revision and nuance.25 Some of Pstrusińska’s fervent anti-Soviet rhetoric is echoed in Bhattacharya (1984) regarding policy decisions in the Democratic Republic of Afghanistan encouraging the promotion of minority languages and cultures, the implication being (see, e.g., page 133) that this would be to the detriment of overall Pashtun hegemony. Earlier reports, however, indicated that there was only token representation among non-Pashtuns in the revolutionary government in Kabul, and the shift in power that occurred with the Saur Revolution of 1978 involved the displacement of the Durranī Pashtun elite associated with the ancien régime with a rival group, a Ghilzai confederation (also comprised primarily of Pashtuns) (Naby 1980: 245-6; Barfield 2007: 15). The Ghilzais “had stronger tribal backgrounds than did the old elite and were native Pashto speakers” (Barfield 2010: 226). Members of the royal family, despite their Pashtun roots in the southern part of the country, mostly spoke Persian, and few were comfortable conversing exclusively in Pashto (Edwards 2002: 63). Others have argued with empirical

25 Unfortunately, I am unable here to give a satisfactory account of this fascinating period. Readers are advised to consult the works cited in this essay for a more complete picture of the political situation during the 1980s and 1990s.

locating ‘pashto’ in afghanistan

81

data that this change in composition of the Afghan political leadership through the 1970s and 1980s reflected less a shift in the ethnicity (substituting Pashtun for non-Pashtun) than a change in tribal/class affiliation (Arnold 1983; Rubin 1992). Indeed, membership among both factions of the People’s Democratic Party of Afghanistan, starting with Nūr Muḥammad Tarakī and Ḥ āfiz̠ullah Amīn of the Ḳhalq (‘masses’) wing and Babrak Kārmal of Parcham (‘flag’), remained largely Pashtun, though the Ḳhalqī Pashtuns tended to be of “rural, tribal origin” while Parcham was especially effective in drawing Kābulīs into its fold (Rubin 1992: 88; Barfield 2007: 15; Edwards 2002: 32-56). Rubin notes that the distinction between Kābulī Pashtuns and those from the southeastern hinterlands “seems to be a rough proxy for class origin, as the Kabulis tend to have fathers of high social status” (89). Rubin (1992: 87) has shown that the number of Pashtuns represented in the Politburos and Central Committees of both wings of the PDPA was far greater than their proportion of the Afghan population as a whole. The Muhammadzai and largely Persian-speaking Pashtun elite of the previous “Old Regime” are conspicuously absent, however, not just from the PDPA-Ḳhalq but also from the various “Islamist” parties. Rubin’s insightful comparison (82-5) of official documents produced by the PDPA factions and their “Islamist” rivals, the Ḥ izb-i Islāmī, suggests that their respective memberships overlapped not just in their overrepresentation of Pashtuns, but also in a surprising number of ideological positions (cf. also Edwards 2002: 198). The appeal of the PDPA to many Pashtuns belonging to marginal tribes and lineages lay in its promise of the forcible reform of Pashtun rural society through the dismantlement of the traditional ḳhān system of hereditary landlordism (Edwards 2002: 64-9, 74). These groups derived largely from the mountainous southeastern borderlands and not the traditional elite whose roots were in the well-irrigated plains of Kandahar and Helmand (Barfield 2007: 10-5). Whatever the validity of assertions of Pashto’s decline during the Communist period, following the withdrawal of Soviet forces from Afghanistan in February 1989, Pashto (and Urdu) came increasingly to be associated with the Taliban political movement, despite efforts by that group to highlight the participation of a few non-Pashtuns (Crews and Tarzi 2008: 31). Facing a new political reality without Soviet military support, the PDPA dissolved and was rechristened the Ḥ izb-i Wat̠an (‘Homeland Party’) under the Pashtun President Najībullāh (Rubin 1993: 481). Though born in Kabul, the president

82

walter hakala

was “well-known for his skills in Pashto oratory” (Barfield 2010: 239). Having renounced Marxism, the Najībullāh government attempted to rebrand itself as “as the only remaining nationalist, Pashtun-led politically effective force in the country” (Rubin 1992: 95-6). This experiment was to prove short lived, and when that government was overthrown in 1992, Pashtun influence on the country as a whole was limited, due in part to the disintegration of the central government and military and the fragmentation of the country into separately administered regions. The large number of Pashtun refugees residing beyond Afghan borders had no doubt produced a profound demographic shift in the country, one that favored the assertion of regional autonomy by various non-Pashtun ethnic groups (Rubin 1993: 486). The emergence of ethnically-organized regional governments under the aegis of such figures as the Uzbek commander ʿAbdul Rashīd Dostam and the Tajik leader Ismāʿīl Ḳhān, and groups like the independent Hazārah organizations and the so-called “Northern Alliance” under the Tajik commander Aḥmad Shāh Masʿūd, relegated Pashtun-dominated political organizations like the Taliban and Gulbuddīn Ḥ ikmatyār’s Ḥ izb-i Islāmī to the southwest, south and east of the country (Ahady 1995, Barfield 2010: 249-60). Despite a number of factors that led to a decline in the political fortunes of Pashtun-dominated groups in the early 1990s, midway through the decade Ahady predicted (correctly, it would seem) that these setbacks would prove to be temporary: In an era when ethnic majorities everywhere are becoming dominant, it is highly unrealistic that, on a long term basis, the Pashtuns can be denied noninstitutionalized (de facto) dominance in Afghanistan. Further, the Pashtuns are likely to rebound because the causes of their decline are temporary; for instance, disunity among them played an important role in their decline, but with the rise of the Taliban, Pashtun unity has strengthened significantly (631).

With the collapse of the Afghan educational system and with it the ideal of bilingual instruction in Dari and Pashto, the generation that grew up in the aftermath of the Revolution—whether in Afghanistan or abroad—are less likely to speak multiple Afghan languages (Edwards 2002: 301). Pashtun use of Persian as a prestige dialect (functioning especially in the social domains of literature and statecraft) has for centuries been closely indexed to higher social classes and connections with urban Afghan culture (especially that of Kabul ) (Rahman 1995). Dari Persian had been a second language for many Pashtuns,

locating ‘pashto’ in afghanistan

83

especially those with access to formal education and with aspirations to government service. As a result of their long period of residence and education in Pakistan, Urdu has been documented in recent years as replacing Persian in this role among Afghan refugees, even upon their return home. By 1999, the Taliban had extended their control over nearly the entire country, excepting the Tajik northeast which remained independent under the Northern Alliance. As a result of of their military successes, and especially from the mid-1990s, Urdu and Pashto enjoyed new prominence as languages of governance, even in regions where neither had significant traditions of being commonly spoken. Rzehak describes how Urdu came to be imposed as the primary language of administration in Nimroz province during the period of Taliban rule from 1995 to 2001. The first Taliban governor of the province, Hamīdullāh Niyāzmānd, himself grew up and was educated in Pakistan and spoke neither Baluchi nor Persian. Under his rule Urdu became the official language of provincial administration, and only Pashto was accepted along with it. Baluch and Persian-speaking persons who applied to local officials and did not know Urdu or Pashto were turned away (Rzehak 2008: 185).

Later Taliban governors spoke Pashto, and were remembered as “very hostile and barbarous persons who came from Pakistan and did not have the faintest idea about local customs” (186). The Pashto language had become very closely associated for non-Pashtun Afghans throughout the country with the Taliban. Barfield (2010: 260) describes how Taliban leaders, following their successful May 1997 campaign in northern Afghanistan, tried to address “a crowd of uncomprehending Persian and Uzbek speakers in Pashto at the main mosque” in Mazār-i Sharīf. Similarly, at the southern extreme of the country, one resident of Nimroz could thus recount (in Baluchi) that people . . . were much afraid of the government at this time. Especially Persianspeaking people and Baluch. If you knew Pashto you could do everything. You could go to every office, if your language was Pashto. You could do everything. Nobody asked where you were coming from and where you were going. If you spoke Persian or Baluchi they thought you were cursing at them. This is how they were (Rzehak 2008: 193).26

26

For analysis of Baluch-Pashtun interactions, see Barth (1964 and 1969: 123-5).

84

walter hakala

While Barfield (2007: 16-7) believes that the recent Taliban efforts to destabilize the Pashtun-majority south and east of the country are doomed by a variety of historical, demographic, and topographic factors, there is little doubt that decades of massive human displacement will continue to have significant sociolinguistic effects for years to come. 3.7. Conclusions Curiously, Pstrusińska, like Cannon thirty years earlier, evokes Babel in her closing paragraphs. In fact, much of what she is describing (as part of a supposed Soviet policy to “divide and rule”)27 is what I believe Cannon feared might happen were Afghanistan not to take the “bold step” and establish a single national language and a single foreign one. Indeed, though Pstrusińska certainly does not predict the coming rise of the Taliban, her essay’s treatment of the “cultural discontinuity which accompanies war” anticipates in part the situation that Taliban leaders would exploit throughout the coming decade. While much has been written about the rise of the Taliban in the 1990s and the conflicts among Afghanistan’s various ethnic minorities, few studies, if any, have focused on the linguistic violence that accompanied it. Despite the latest imposition of an American-backed regime with its supposedly parliamentary model on the Afghan people, violence continues in the region and many Pashtun refugees remain outside Afghan borders. Pashto appears to have succeeded in adapting to new media. While this may have been a decisive factor in its crossing what we might imagine as a “threshold of language survival,” the divisions, both topographical and political, as well as the competing influence of Arabic (effected largely through Pashtun immigrant laborers), Dari/ Persian, Urdu, and English especially, will continue to complicate further standardization efforts. Despite our initial hopes, it seems that that the thirty year gap in sociolinguistic fieldwork done in Afghanistan will not entirely disappear, and, that we must expect the paucity of material produced in Western European languages on Pashto in Afghanistan to continue.

27 This same fear, however, was also expressed by ethnic Turkmens and Uzbeks to Naby (1980: 243, 245), some of whom advocated for education in a common “Turkī” language.

locating ‘pashto’ in afghanistan

85

References Abrar, Sayedul. (1979). “An Appraisal of the Work of Pashto Academy at Peshawar,” Journal of Central Asia III, no. 1, pp. 89-106. Addleton, Jonathan S. (1986). “The Importance of Regional Languages in Pakistan,” in The Rise and Development of Urdu and the Importance of Regional Languages in Pakistan, M. Geijbels and Jonathan S. Addleton (eds.), Rawalpindi, Pakistan: Christian Study Centre. Ahady, Anwar-ul-Haq. (1995). “The Decline of the Pashtuns in Afghanistan,” Asian Survey 35, no. 7, pp. 621-34. Ahmadi, Wali. (2008). Modern Persian Literature in Afghanistan: Anomalous Visions of History and Form. London: Routledge. Ahmed, Akbar S., and Titus, Paul. 1992. Pathan. http://proxy.library.upenn.edu:8444 /cgi/e/ehraf/ehraf-idx?c=ehrafeview=owcowc=AU04 Alam, Muzaffar. (2004). The Languages of Political Islam: India, 1200–1800. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Arnold, Anthony. (1983). Afghanistan’s Two-Party Communism: Parcham and Khalq. Stanford: Hoover Institution Press, Stanford University. Bakhtin, Mikhail Michaelovich. (1981). The Dialogic Imagination: Four Essays. Trans. Caryl Emerson and Michael Holquist. University of Texas Press Slavic Series, no. 1, Michael Holquist (ed.), Austin: University of Texas Press. Barfield, Thomas J. (2005). “Afghanistan is Not the Balkans: Ethnicity and Its Political Consequences From a Central Eurasian Perspective,” Central Eurasian Studies Review 4, no. 1, pp. 2-8. ——. (2007). “Weapons of the Not So Weak in Afghanistan: Pashtun Agrarian Structure and Tribal Organization for Times of War Peace,” New Haven. Agrarian Studies Colloquium Series: “Hinterlands, Frontiers, Cities and States: Transactions and Identities.” Yale University. Accessed September 3, 2010. http://www.yale.edu /agrarianstudies/papers/19weapons.pdf ——. (2010). Afghanistan: A Cultural and Political History. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Barth, Fredrik. (1964). “Ethnic Processes on the Pathan-Baluch Boundary.” IndoIranica 17, pp. 13-20. ——. (1969) “Pathan Identity and Its Maintenance,” in Ethnic Groups and Boundaries: The Social Organization of Culture Difference, Fredrik Barth (ed.), pp. 119-34. Boston: Little, Brown. Bhattacharya, Sauri P. (1984). “Soviet Nationality Policy in Afghanistan,” Asian Affairs 15, no. 2, pp. 125-37. Blochmann, H. (1872). Prosody of the Persians According to Saifi, Jami, and Other Writers. Calcutta: C.B. Lewis. Bourdieu, Pierre. (1985). “The Market of Symbolic Goods,” Poetics 14, no. 1-2 (1985): pp. 13-44. ——. (1991). Language and Symbolic Power, trans. Gino Raymond and Matthew Adamson, John B. Thompson (ed.). Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press. ——. (1993). The Field of Cultural Production: Essays on Art and Literature, Randal Johnson (ed.), New York: Columbia University Press. Brass, Paul R. (1974). Language, Religion and Politics in North India. London: Cambridge University Press. C.I.A. 2004. Afghanistan. http://www.cia.gov/cia/publications/factbook/geos/af.html. Cannon, Garland. (1963). “English and Other Languages in Afghanistan,” Modern Language Journal 47, no. 7, pp. 314-8. Caron, James M. (2009). “Cultural Histories of Pashtun Nationalism, Public Participation, and Social Inequality in Monarchic Afghanistan, 1905–1960.” PhD dissertation, University of Pennsylvania.

86

walter hakala

Chatterjee, Partha. (2004). The Politics of the Governed: Reflections on Popular Politics in Most of the World. University Seminars/Leonard Hastings Schoff Memorial Lectures, New York: Columbia University Press. Crews, Robert D., and Amin Tarzi. (2008). “Introduction,” in The Taliban and the Crisis of Afghanistan, Robert D. Crews and Amin Tarzi (eds.), pp. 1-58. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press. Darmesteter, James. (1888). Chants Populaires des Afghans. Paris: Imprimerie National. Dupree, Louis. (1978). “Language and Politics in Afghanistan: An Essay in Sociolinguistics through Time,” in Language and Civilization Change in South Asia, Clarence Maloney (ed.), pp. 131-41. Leiden: E.J. Brill. ——. (1984). “A Footnote to ‘Four Varieties of Pashto’,” Journal of the American Oriental Society 104, no. 4, p. 761. Edwards, David B. (2002). Before Taliban: Genealogies of the Afghan Jihad. Berkeley: University of California Press. Faruqui, Munis D. (2005).“The Forgotten Prince: Mirza Hakim and the Formation of the Mughal Empire in India,” Journal of the Economic and Social History of the Orient 4, no. 4, pp. 487-523. Fishman, Joshua, and Max Weinreich. (1980).“Introduction,” in History of the Yiddish Language, Max Weinreich (ed.). Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Fussman, Gérard. (1972). Atlas Linguistique des Parlers Dardes et Kafirs. Paris: École française d’Extrème-Orient; Dépositaire: Adrien-Maisonneuve. Gommans, Jos J.L. (1995). The Rise of the Indo-Afghan Empire, c. 1710–1780. Leiden: E.J. Brill. Grierson, George Abraham. (1920). “Pashto,” in Linguistic Survey of India, George Abraham Grierson (ed.), pp. 5-121. Calcutta. Hakala, Walter Nils. (2010). “Diction and Dictionaries: Language, Lexicography, and Learning in Persianate South Asia,” PhD dissertation, University of Pennsylvania. Henderson, Michael M.T. (1983). “Brief Communications: Four Varieties of Pashto,” Journal of the American Oriental Society 103, no. 3, pp. 595-7. Heston, W.L., and Mumtaz Nasir. (1989). The Bazaar of the Storytellers. Islamabad, Pakistan: Lok Virsa Pub. House. Hopkins, Benjamin D. (2009). “Jihad on the Frontier: A History of Religious Revolt on the North-West Frontier, 1800–1947,” History Compass 7, no. 6, pp. 1459-69. Ijaz, Madiha. “Phonemic Inventory of Pashto.” CRULP Annual Student Report, 2002– 2003, 83-8. Center for Research in Urdu Language Processing.http://crulp.org /English Site/.\Publication\Crulp_report\CR03_15E.pdf. Kieffer, Charles M. (1973). “L’Établissement des Cartes Phonétiques, Premier Résultat,” paper presented at the XXIX° Congrès International des Orientalistes. ——. (1975). “Dialectologie du Pashtô: Distribution et Typologie des Parlers Pashtô d’après les Premières Cartes de l’Atlas Linguistique de l’Afghanistan (ALA),” paper presented at the Colloque sur l’Établissement d’un Centre d’Étude de la Langue et de la Littérature Pashtô, Kabul. ——. (2003). Grammaire de l’ōrmuòrī de Baraki-Barka (Lōgar, Afghanistan), Beiträge zur Iranistik, vol. 22, Wiesbaden: Reichert. Lorenz, Manfred. (1982). Lehrbuch des Pashto (Afghanisch), 2nd ed. Leipzig: Verlag Enzyklopädie. MacKenzie, D.N. (1959). “A Standard Pashto,” Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London 22, no. 1/3, pp. 231-5. ——. (1995). “The Qasida in Pashto,” in Qasida Poetry in Islamic Asia and Africa, Stefan Sperl and Christopher Shackle (eds.), pp. 339-50. Leiden: E.J. Brill. MacLean, Darrel N. (2003). “The Sociology of Political Engagement: The Mahdawiyah and the State,” in India’s Islamic Traditions: 711-1750, Richard Maxwell Eaton (ed.), pp. 150-66. Oxford in India Readings. Themes in Indian History, New Delhi: Oxford University Press.

locating ‘pashto’ in afghanistan

87

Malik, S. Jamal. (1993). “16th Century Mahdism: The Rawsaniya Movement Among the Pakhtun Tribes,” in Islam and Indian Regions, Anna Libera Dallapiccola and Stephanie Zingel-Avé Lallemant (eds.), vol. 1 (“Texts”), pp. 31-59. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag. Meredith-Owens, G.M. (1979). “ʿArūḍ,” in Encyclopaedia of Islam (Second Edition), H.A.R. Gibb, J.H. Kramers, E. Lévi-Provençal, and Joseph Schacht (eds.), pp. 66777. Leiden: E.J. Brill. Meyer-Ingwersen, Johannes Christian. (1966). Untersuchungen zum Satzbau des Paschto. Hamburg. Miran, M. Alam. (1974). Some Linguistic Difficulties facing Dari Speakers Learning Pashto. New York: Afghanistan Council of the Asia Society. ——. (1977a). The Functions of National Languages in Afghanistan. New York: Afghanistan Council, Asia Society. ——. (1977b). “Sociolinguistic Factors in Afghanistan,” Afghanistan Journal 4, no. 3, pp. 122-7. Mirdehghan, Mahinnaz. (2010). “Persian, Urdu, and Pashto: A Comparative Orthographic Analysis,” Writing Systems Research, vol. 2, no. 1, pp. 9-23. Moin, Ahmed Afzar. (2010). “Islam and the Millennium: Sacred Kingship and Popular Imagination in Early Modern India and Iran,” PhD dissertation, University of Michigan. Morgenstierne, G., and Lloyd-James, A. (1928). “Notes on the Pronunciation of Pashto (Dialect of the Hazara District),” Bulletin of the School of Oriental Studies, London Institution, vol. 5, no. 1, pp. 53-62. Naby, Eden. (1980). “The Ethnic Factor in Soviet-Afghan Relations,” Asian Survey, vol. 20, no. 3, pp. 237-56. Pandey, Sita Ram. (1970). From Sepoy to Subedar; being the Life and Adventures of Subedar Sita Ram, a Native Officer of the Bengal Army, Written and Related by Himself. Trans. James Thomas Norgate, James D. Lunt (ed.). Delhi: Vikas Publications. Penzl, Herbert. (1954). “Orthography and Phonemes in Pashto (Afghan),” Journal of the American Oriental Society, vol. 74, no. 2, pp. 74-81. ——. (1955). A Grammar of Pashto: A Descriptive Study of the Dialect of Kandahar, Afghanistan. Washington, D.C.: American Council of Learned Societies. Phillott, Douglas Craven. (1942). Annotated English Translation of Ḳhwāb o Ḳhyāl or “Visions of the Past”: The Textbook for the Higher Standard Examination in Hindustani and Indian Civil Service Candidates, United Kingdom. 4th ed. Calcutta: T. Spink. Pollock, Sheldon. (1996). “The Sanskrit Cosmopolis, 300–1300: Transculturation, Vernacularization, and the Question of Ideology,” in Ideology and Status of Sanskrit: Contributions to the History of the Sanskrit Language, Jan E.M. Houben (ed.), pp. 197-247. Brill’s Ideological Library, vol. 13, Leiden: E.J. Brill. ——. (1998). “The Cosmopolitan Vernacular,” The Journal of Asian Studies, vol. 57, no. 1, pp. 6-37. ——. (2006). The Language of the Gods in the World of Men: Sanskrit, Culture, and Power in Premodern India. Berkeley: University of California Press. Pstrusińska, Jadwiga. (1992). “On the Sociolinguistic Epilogue of the War in Afghanistan (1989),” in Contacts Between Cultures: Eastern Asia: Literature and Humanities, Bernard Hung-Kay Luk (ed.), pp. 359-63. Lewinston: E. Mellen Press. Pybus, Gilbert Douglas. (1924). A Text-Book of Urdu Prosody and Rhetoric. Lahore: Rama Krishna and Sons. Rahman, Tariq. (1995). “The Pashto Language and Identity-Formation in Pakistan,” Contemporary South Asia, vol. 4, no. 2, pp. 151-70. ——. (2002). Language, Ideology and Power: Language Learning Among the Muslims of Pakistan and North India. Karachi: Oxford University Press.

88

walter hakala

Raverty, H.G. (2001[1867]). A Dictionary of the Puk’hto, Pus’hto, or Language of the Afghans: With Remarks on the Originality of the Language, and its Affinity to other Oriental Tongues. 2nd expanded ed. London: Williams and Norgate. ——. (1987 [1860]). A Grammar of the Paḳhto, Puṣhto, or Language of the Afġhāns: in which the rules are illustrated by examples from the best writers, both poetical and prose, together with translations from the articles of war, and remarks on the language, literature, and descent of the Afġhān tribes. 2nd ed. New Delhi: Asian Educational Services. Rubin, Barnett R. (1992). “Political Elites in Afghanistan: Rentier State Building, Rentier State Wrecking,” International Journal of Middle East Studies, vol. 24, no. 1, pp. 77-99. ——. (1993). “Post-Cold War State Disintegration: The Failure of International Conflict Resolution in Afghanistan,” Journal of International Affairs 46, no. 2, pp. 46992. ——. (2000). “The Political Economy of War and Peace in Afghanistan,” World Development, vol. 28, no. 10, pp. 1789-803. Rzehak, Lutz. (2008). “Remembering the Taliban,” in The Taliban and the Crisis of Afghanistan, Robert D. Crews and Amin Tarzi (eds.), pp. 182-211. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press. Scott, James C. (1998). Seeing Like a State: How Certain Schemes to Improve the Human Condition have Failed. Yale Agrarian Studies. New Haven: Yale University Press. ——. (2009). The Art of Not Being Governed: An Anarchist History of Upland Southeast Asia. New Haven: Yale University Press. Septfonds, Daniel. (1994). Le Dzadrâni: Un Parler Pashto du Paktyâ (Afghanistan). Paris: I. Peeters Shackle, Christopher. (1980). “Hindko in Kohat and Peshawar,” Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London, vol. 43, no. 3, pp. 482-510. Shafeev, D.A. (1964). A Short Grammatical Outline of Pashto, trans. Herbert H. Paper (ed.). International Journal of American Linguistics 30, no. 3, pt. 3. Bloomington: Indiana University. Titus, Paul. (1998). “Honor the Baloch, Buy the Pushtun: Stereotypes, Social Organization and History in Western Pakistan,” Modern Asian Studies, vol. 32, no. 3, pp. 657-87. Veyrac, Jean-Louis. (1997). Afghanistan: Frontières Ethno-Linguistiques. http://ethnisme .ben-vautier.com/analyses/cartes/carte_afghanistan.html. Wilson, Dunning. (1969). “Afghan Literature: A Perspective,” in Afghanistan: Some New Approaches, George Grassmuck, Ludwig W. Adamec, and Frances H. Irwin (eds.), pp. 81-98. Ann Arbor: Center for Near Eastern and North African Studies, University of Michigan. Wink, André. (1990). Al-Hind: The Making of the Indo-Islamic World, vol. I, Leiden: E.J. Brill. ——. (1997). Al-Hind: The Making of the Indo-Islamic World, vol. II, Leiden: E.J. Brill.

CHAPTER FOUR

PERSIAN, FARSI, DARI, TAJIKI: LANGUAGE NAMES AND LANGUAGE POLICIES Brian Spooner 4.1. Introduction Persian is an important language today in a number of countries of west, south and central Asia. But its status in each is different. In Iran its unique status as the only official or national language continues to be jealously guarded, even though half—probably more—of the population use a different language (mainly Azari/Azeri Turkish) at home, and on the streets, though not in formal public situations, and not in writing. Attempts to breach this exclusive status of Persian in Iran have increased in recent decades, but are still relatively minor. Persian (called tajiki) is also the official language of Tajikistan, but here it shares that status informally with Russian, while in the west of the country Uzbek is also widely used and in the more isolated eastern part of the country other local Iranian languages are now dominant. In Afghanistan, although Persian (officially renamed dari in 1964, but still commonly called farsi) is the official language, the national language is Pashto, and there is no official restriction on the use of other languages (see discussion by Nawid in this volume). Persian also continues to be spoken in some of the northern and western parts of Pakistan and the southern littoral of the Persian Gulf. Meanwhile, for most people in Pakistan, Bangladesh and India, for reasons that are explained later, Persian is informally recognized as a classical language. In the other countries of the region—Turkey, the Caucasus, the Persian Gulf and the other Central Asian republics—somewhat negative, discriminatory attitudes are found with regard to Persian. This situation is a consequence of the nationalisms that have emerged over the past fifty years or so. This unusual combination of vast geographical distribution and country-by-country variation can be explained only by detailed reference to the history of the language. Persian makes an interesting historical case study, because it includes in a somewhat exaggerated form a number of features that are found in other modern languages

90

brian spooner

that have long textual records—features which throw a shadow over the continuing development of language policies in all these countries, and may illuminate some of the less tangible factors behind language policy in general. Persian is an unusual, perhaps unique, case in world history: unlike other languages which became media of written communication before the modern period, it moved seamlessly out of its mediaeval past into the status of official language in three modern countries without undergoing any significant modification. New Persian, the form of the language which emerged in the Arabic script in the 8th century ad (with a borrowed Arabic vocabulary component comparable to the Latin in English) is the direct successor to Middle Persian (written in a form of the Aramaic script since the third century bc) and Old Persian before that (written in cuneiform since the 6th century bc). Besides the longevity and relative stability of New Persian over a period exceeding a millennium (for more detail see Spooner and Hanaway in press) from earlier periods of very low literacy rates to present situations of near universal literacy, and from language of dynastic courts and administration to national language—texts from the 9th and 10th centuries are fully legible and still in use among educated Iranians today—this historical continuity was facilitated by a number of factors. The most important are: A. The geographical extent of its standard usage between the 9th and the 19th centuries, from as far east as the trade routes into central China under the Mongol (Yuan) dynasty in the 13th and 14th centuries, south over the Deccan Plateau into southern India under the Mughals, and as far west as the western reaches of the Ottoman Empire in Bosnia, as the public language for any function associated with writing—administration, trade, literature—regardless of local spoken languages, among non-Muslims (e.g. Hindus) as well as Muslims. B. Its association with the authority of governments and the culture (adab) of the secular elites of cities throughout this vast area. C. The social organization of literacy (over an area much larger than the group of modern countries considered in this volume), which effectively restricted entry to the literate class down to the middle of the 20th century, the consistent degree of interaction among members of the urban literate class throughout this area by travel and correspondence, and the high cultural and religious value ascribed

persian, farsi, dari, tajiki

91

throughout the population (non-literate as well as literate) down to the present day to the corpus of poetry written in Persian over the past millennium. D. The boost of foreign (Western) interest in the cultural heritage for which it was the vehicle, inspired by European classical education and Orientalism from the Elizabethan period on. E. The practice of colonial administration in India down to 1837. In this chapter I explore how these factors combined in the 19th-20th centuries to shape modern attitudes towards standard Persian over this vast area, attitudes which more recently have begun to unravel as a consequence of the emergence of vernacular nationalisms. The English name “Persian” is from the name that has been in Western vocabulary since Herodotus (c. 484–425 bc). It comes from Pars, the area around Persepolis (the Greek name we use for the summer capital of the Achaemenian Empire) on the southwestern edge of the Iranian Plateau. When the Persians began to convert to Islam after the Arab conquest in the middle of the 7th century, the language was naturally influenced by the language of the Qurʾan. Eventually, Arabic settled into a role comparable to that of Latin in mediaeval Europe. When the name of the area around Persepolis shifted from pars to fars (Arabic had no /p/), the name of the language spoken there shifted similarly to farsi. Since Persian was the language of administration of western Asia under the pre-Islamic Iranian empires, and it was the language of the secretarial class, it continued to be used by non-Arabic speakers in the Islamic civilization that succeeded them, and consequently spread over a much larger area—eventually at its peak in the 14th century as far west as the Ottoman territories of what is now Bosnia, east into the Tarim Basin around the Takla Makan and down the major trade routes into central China, and south into the Muslim Sultanates of north and south India, where it remained the language of administration, literature and polite society under the Mughals, and later the British, into the 19th century. Through this period the social grasp of the writing class in the cities, and the popular appeal of the literature they produced, provided a keel that steadied the historical trajectory of the written language and a magnet that not only held together the far-flung writing community but also standardized the speech of polite society. Eventually, however, a process of vernacularization emerged and this Persianate unity and stability began to disintegrate. The process began first in the Ottoman Empire in the 15th and

92

brian spooner

16th centuries, as the language of administration in the west shifted gradually to a highly Persianized “Ottoman” Turkish. In India it was facilitated by the British decision in 1835 to switch from Persian to a partnership of English with Urdu (a creole of Persian superimposed on an Indic syntax). It accelerated in the 20th century with the steady rise of literacy encouraged by nationalism, similar to the earlier shift from Latin to the vernaculars in Western Christendom. Over the past 50 years Persian, however, written as well as spoken, has probably changed as much or more than in the preceding 500 years, and there is now noticeable divergence in usage between Iran, Afghanistan and Tajikistan. But Persian continues to be highly influential as a written language throughout the area. Thanks largely to the continuing popularity of “classical” poetry from before the era of modern nation-states the process of disintegration has been very gradual and is by no means complete. I first heard “farsi” in an English sentence in the early 1970s. It gradually became common, first outside academia, then inside. Before about 1970 the Persian language was of little interest outside academia, but since about 1980 we have become dependent on non-academic interest in the language for the justification that is now necessary to pursue it in academia.1 Although the change is not difficult to explain, it tends to create divisions, even discrimination, where none existed previously. For this, as well as perhaps other more sentimental, even romantic, reasons, the International Society for Iranian Studies and some other academic bodies have taken a formal position against the use of farsi in English. Why should the change have occurred? Unlike the change from Persia to Iran which was mandated for diplomatic usage by Reza Shah in 1935, there was no official pressure. Why should it have occurred when it did? In what context should we ask these questions? Urdu is, after all, in English regularly called Urdu, and always has been. We do not question why hindi is called Hindi in English. On the other hand, we would not call Greek ellenika. And to call German Deutsch or French français in an English sentence would raise eyebrows. So consistency does not appear to be a factor. Is it perhaps a modern

1 Earlier, shorter versions of this article, with somewhat different emphases relating more directly to curricular issues, have been published in Spooner 1992 and 1994.

persian, farsi, dari, tajiki

93

form of orientalism? Persian came into English in the 18th century as an anglicization of Herodotus’ Greek. Why should we change it now to match the usage of native speakers, when we do not make similar changes for other languages? The new usage seems to have appeared during the period when the number of native English speakers visiting and working in Iran was increasing on a scale for which there may have been no precedent in any other Middle Eastern or Muslim country. The perpetrators were diverse and not easy to classify, including various types of professionals and nonprofessionals. Perhaps the movement derived from a sense that farsi suggests some degree of familiarity with an exotic culture, a cachet. It also connotes the equal value of another cultural community on its own terms. It is patently modern, perhaps even postmodern. “Persian,” on the other hand, may carry connotations of elitism, romanticism, even Orientalism of an earlier type. It is by implication dated. The shift is not, however, without more serious implications. In the case of most languages which are commonly learned by non-native speakers, the consequences of replacing the English name of the language with the native name would be no more than stylistic, and might even suggest increased international significance both for the language and for its speech community. Unfortunately, calling Persian farsi has the opposite effect. Since Afghanistan and Tajikistan now use different native terms for the language, the new usage may even be a symptom of its declining international status, for it reduces it to a local level, making national political connotations inescapable. In fact, by changing the English name of the language now we may appear to choose political sides and risk becoming complicit agents of larger changes. We are, of course, impotent to manage the naming of anything beyond our own small academic and professional community in the Englishspeaking world. However, by analysing the processes at work we may learn more about one of our perennial concerns: the dynamic interplay between language and other dimensions of culture. In what follows, I have limited objectives. I argue that careful attention to the naming issue may illuminate some of the darker corners of the policy picture. We must avoid doing anything that would contribute to the deracination of Persian from its larger cultural and historical context and legitimate a new status for it as just another national language, albeit of a country with a population of some seventy million.

94

brian spooner

I am particularly concerned that the change invalidates much of the justification we have for insisting that the place of Persian as a supranational literary language (because of its administrative and literary role in Asia over the past millenium) should be more secure than, say, Hungarian or Bengali. In brief, if we use “farsi” as the English name of the language, the role of Persian as one of the main languages of writing in world history is lost to English speakers (and generally to non-Persian speakers). I shall therefore first attempt to place the phenomenon in its historical context. 4.2. Dari, Farsi, and Tojiki Persian and farsi are, of course, in origin not different names. They both emerged from the same political situation some two thousand five hundred years ago. Based on a summer capital in an area known as Pars in what is now southern Iran, the Achaemenians established an empire covering most of southwest Asia. As a result of their success the toponym “pars” lives on in three related traditions: A. Arabicized in the New Persian name of the province “Fars” in southern Iran, and B. Arabicized in the name of the language, farsi, and C. Hellenized in the Greek pers- (the Greeks associated the Persians with their mythical hero Perseus), derivatives of which are still used to denote everything related to the high culture of Iran (pre-Islamic and Islamic) in Western languages. The root that gives us Persian became inseparable from the administrative language of the empire and the homeland of the Achaemenians in southern Iran. Persian (the language) and farsi are historically reflexes of the same word. But apart from the fact that Anglicized Greek suits English better than Arabicized Persian, local connotations and usages of the latter have recently changed in some respects (as a result of modern nationalism) that are irrelevant to our generally more academic concerns, as characterized in the former. After the Achaemenians, the Persian language evolved under the succeeding empires (Seleucids 312–250, Parthians 250 bc–226 ad, Sasanians 226–651), losing its inflections (as Hellenistic Greek did over the same period), and reemerged in its modern form after the Arab conquest, since when it has changed so slowly that texts from over

persian, farsi, dari, tajiki

95

a thousand years ago are as readable to modern Persian-speakers, of any country, as Shakespeare is to modern English-speakers. In the first ten centuries of the Islamic period it spread over an even larger area extending into the Tarim Basin (modern Xinjiang) in the east and the Deccan plateau of peninsular India in the south. Most of this vast area came to be dominated by Persian-speaking Muslim ruling classes of what may be called (after Hodgson 1974) “Persianate” culture, a culture that was associated since the Achaemenians with the idea of Iran (cognate with our “Aryan”), which became a local modern identity only with the rise of nationalism in the region beginning in the 19th century. The language inevitably served not only as the language of government and bureaucracy but of all the functions of court (i.e., government) life, of which perhaps the most significant in the long term has been a monopoly on all genres of literary production, familiarity with which became the core of Persianate identity. Once established in these roles, Persian continued to dominate them down to the present century, when finally, long after Persianate culture began to decline through much of the area, the geopolitical situation began to change irrevocably. This change, when it finally came, was not as might at first be surmised, the result of the intrusion of foreign powers, but rather of their departure. For a thousand years, therefore, Persian enjoyed cultural preeminence over a large proportion of central, western, and southern Asia. This area is roughly equivalent to what le Strange (1905) called the “Eastern Caliphate.” But the direct influence of Persian even today extends beyond the Eastern Caliphate proper, most obviously into the lives of the Hindus of South Asia, whose modern languages are replete with Persian loan words and calques. The everyday language of local communities throughout this vast area was A. A variety of dialects of Persian. B. A variety of other Iranian languages. The relatively well-known Balochi, Kurdish, Ossetic, Pashto, Yaghnabi, though still important, have not developed a standard form. A number of smaller languages remain undescribed. Many others have disappeared in recent centuries. C. A variety of Indo-Aryan languages and dialects. D. A variety of Turkic vernaculars. For about the same length of time, since the beginning of the movement of Turkic peoples into southwest Asia, Turkic has spread at the

96

brian spooner

expense of both Persian and other Iranian languages for purposes of everyday communication between non-literate speakers of different languages—that is, as a local or regional lingua franca. Over large areas, starting in Azerbaijan and spreading east, Turkic eventually eclipsed many minor, localized Iranian languages. But Persian was the principle language of writing, and continued to function as the overall koine for any public interaction related to the written record, whether administrative or literary. As much as half of the population of modern Iran now speaks a form of Western Turkic for domestic or other purposes, but all literacy (with only minor exceptions) and (secular) education continue to be in Persian. Even after the growth in this century of literacy and official use of languages other than Persian, mostly in the parts of the region that came under colonial administrations, where it suited Russian policy in the North and British policy in India to encourage Turkic and Urdu respectively, Persian continued to be important as a second language for the intelligentsia and in the educational system. It is not entirely coincidental that Persian ceased to be required in schools in India and Pakistan at about the same time (early 1960s) as Latin ceased to be a requirement for entry to Oxford and Cambridge. It is now suppressed in modern Hindi, though still evident, as in modern Turkish, and even modern Greek. Despite enormous diversity and periodic upheaval at the level of community life, the history of this vast area throughout the two and a half millennia from Cyrus to Khomeini displays a remarkable degree of continuity and homogeneity in literate or high culture. It is perhaps not surprising, therefore, that farsi continued as the Persian name of the language throughout the area to the present day. The continuing use of the term “English” by Americans and others comes to mind as an analogous continuity, though with a much shorter history. The future, however, appears less assured. Political, social, and economic changes over an area much larger than the modern state of Iran, and extending into the global Iranian diaspora that has developed since the 1979 revolution in Iran, are reflected in a changing awareness of the language that has for so long been a symbol and focus of Iranian identity. Here and there particular speakers or groups make various efforts to conserve or to change the language and attitudes toward it. Between the 1930s and the 1960s several efforts were made to romanize the Persian script, but without impact. In the Islamic period this language-and-literature-based identity was until recently also largely an attribute of class. The current rise of a new self-

persian, farsi, dari, tajiki

97

consciousness among all Persian speakers perhaps can be explained only in the context of similar intensification of linguistic and ethnic community identities throughout the world. Such changes in the way speakers relate to unity and diversity in their language are, of course, not uncommon in recent history. Common speech is often seen as a reflection or even a condition of common heritage or of common interests, and lack of it (however broadly or narrowly defined) as a clincher of cultural difference, though it may perhaps just as often be ignored. Much has been published in recent decades about the language policies of colonial powers and about linguistic nationalism. This work is not irrelevant to the continuing uncertainties in the politics of Iran and its neighbors. But the effective context of the continuing history of Persian includes a number of other factors. Despite the continuing use of the term “farsi” even now throughout the area, some regional variation has been officially recognized. Although this recognition has been at the government level, it is not entirely without popular support. Persian was renamed “tojiki” in the Soviet Republic of Tajikistan (and, by extension, in the Persianspeaking communities of the neighboring Soviet republics and through the Soviet Union) in 1928. The Soviet authorities changed not only the name of the language but also the alphabet. They first changed it to Roman; by discontinuing education in the Perso-Arabic script they effectively cut off access to materials printed in Persian outside Soviet territory. This change also broke the most basic connection with the Islamic world by separating the script of general literacy from the script of the text of the Qurʾan. Later, in 1940, the alphabet was changed to a modified Cyrillic, thus reinforcing the political relationship with Russia and the other Soviet republics (which underwent the same change at about the same time as part of a rebirth under Stalin of the Russification policy of the czars). The change of alphabet was an interesting experiment. It had long been advocated by Westernizers as a means to increase literacy. For this reason it was attempted first in Azerbaijan in 1922, and effected with success and to some foreign acclaim outside the Soviet Union in Turkey in 1928. There is, however, still no reliable evidence to recommend it as a method of increasing literacy. Literacy has risen significantly since the 1960s not only in Turkey and in the Soviet republics, which changed their alphabets, but also and perhaps to a greater extent in Iran, which retained its modified version of the Arabic script. Perhaps

98

brian spooner

no two languages are exactly comparable in the functionality of their alphabets, but the countries with the highest literacy rates in the world include Japan, South Korea and Thailand, whose scripts would not be likely to rank very high on a Western scale of functionality or simplicity. Although Persian in the Perso-Arabic alphabet is written phonetically, spelling is complicated by a number of factors: there are several phonetically redundant letters, short vowels are normally not represented, and most diphthongs are not distinguished. Moreover, in the Perso-Arabic alphabet, at least until very recently, only the standard literary language was ever written, never any vernacular (cf. the case of historical Chinese). When Cyrillic was adapted for use in writing Persian, it was designed not only to be completely phonetic but also to represent the language as spoken by the Central Asian intelligentsia. Differences that marked the speaker as coming from a particular area immediately and for the first time became differences of spelling and standard vocabulary and syntax. Even the local name of the language changed: tajiki in PersoArabic became tojiki in the modified Cyrillic. Persian in Tajikistan was thus cut adrift from the standard form of the language, and the scene was set for local divergence from the international “classical” standard (which had been maintained by inter-city correspondence and travel, as well as the continuing value of established literary models, in the absence of any central authority, for a thousand years) through convergence not only with rural dialects of the area (under the influence of Soviet populism) but also with other Iranian languages, and most significantly with Eastern Turkic, especially Uzbek. The process accelerated in the following generation, which now constitutes the senior cohort of the Tajik intelligentsia, who were socialized in an environment of Soviet rather than Islamic-Persianate literacy. Nevertheless, six decades of isolation behind the Soviet border appear not to have been sufficient to break the ties of language and culture inherent in the common use of Persian, and the status difference between farsi, the international standard, and tojiki (despite its recent standardization) though not as abrupt as before, has not disappeared. Now as the Tajiks become aware of the significance of their unexpected independence and renew relations with their Persophone neighbors, they are faced with a new dilemma. Should they keep the Cyrillic alphabet, in which they were educated (either in tojiki or, in the case of many of the intelligentsia, in Russian), or switch back to the Perso-Arabic? To stay with Cyrillic would defeat their purpose of

persian, farsi, dari, tajiki

99

rejoining their historical community, the only community fully open to them. But if they switch and the neighboring post-Soviet Islamic republics do not, they will have cut themselves off from the tojiki speakers of Samarqand and Bokhara, and the rest of Central Asia, the closest members of their pre-Soviet historical community. There are no reliable census figures for these other Central Asian Persian speakers, but they could easily exceed the number of native Persian speakers in Tajikistan. Tajikistan did, in fact, legislate an official change back to the Arabic script in 1989, but legislation is easier than implementation (cf. Perry 1996, 1997, and 1999). Thirty years after the Soviets changed the alphabet in Tajikistan, Afghanistan faced a similar problem due to the rise of Iranian cultural and political influence in the region. In the modernizing governments that ruled Afghanistan, Iran and Turkey in the 1920s—under King Amanullah, Reza Shah, and President Ataturk respectively—only Ataturk was ready (and able) to disregard Islamic sensibilities and break the relationship between literacy and Islam by changing the script. In Afghanistan the main concern was to reduce the cultural power of Iran. For this reason in the new constitution of 1964 Afghanistan changed the name of the language as used in Afghanistan to dari.2 This relatively minor change was sufficient to give rein to nationalists who wished to introduce elements of vernacular usage into the written language, making it divergent from the politically dominant form of Persian emanating from Iranian nationalism. Dari, which signifies “the language of the court” (as distinct from farsi, which signifies “the language of Fars” which is now a province in southern Iran), had been available as an alternative to farsi as the name of the language since the earliest times. New Persian had emerged from Middle Persian as the language of the local courts that began in the 9th century to take back power from the Caliphs in Baghdad, less than two hundred years after the Arab-Islamic conquest. Just as everyday educated Persian speech in Tajikistan had been influenced by Uzbek and by other rural languages and dialects, and later by Russian, in Afghanistan it was influenced by Pashto (the “national” language, though not the language of

2 In this connection it is interesting to remember that in the tug-of-war that has emerged between Persian and Pashto in Afghanistan over the past hundred years the Pashtuns raised their own language, Pashto, to official status, nominally equal to Persian, when Afghans needed to distinguish themselves nationalistically from the Iranians. Cf. Nawid, this volume.

100

brian spooner

the national bureaucracy) and by Urdu. Although literacy in Pashto was still negligible at the time and still lags far behind Persian within Afghanistan, a number of institutions were given Pashto names to be used irrespective of language, such as “pohantun” for university (after Iran had introduced the Persian-based daneshgah), making official dari immediately divergent from Iranian farsi, in ways very similar to the divergence between Indian Hindi and Pakistani Urdu after Partition. By choosing the early name dari Afghans implied that their Persian was the true Persian, and therefore superior to the farsi of the Iranians. In this connection it is worth remembering that New Persian emerged after the Arab conquest in what is now Afghanistan, and in the second half of the 18th century (before the era of modern nation-states in the region) the Afghan Empire was larger than the Iranian. The standard Persian of Iran has, of course, similarly been influenced by local linguistic factors. Historical convergence on the local level has produced divergence from the standard literary new Persian of the mediaeval period. It would, in fact, not be easy to determine objectively which modern form of Persian has diverged least from the medieval standard. The main differences lie in certain verb forms (most of which are periphrastic), in choice of loan words, and in the adoption of a number of neologisms generated by an academy. However, partly because Afghans, Iranians, and Tajiks (among others) all rightly claim Persian as their heritage, and partly because their separation into different language communities is recent and incomplete, for educated speakers there continues to be no problem of mutual intelligibility. Persian continues to be the main language for all public purposes not only in Iran but also in Afghanistan, which (with Tajikistan where the role is shared with Russian) have a combined population approaching a hundred million, as well as being the domestic or community language of millions more in the other Central Asian republics, Pakistan and the Persian Gulf (and an international diaspora). Moreover, beyond these primary communities and although largely forgotten, it continues (like Latin in the West) to play an important role in vocabulary and word-building in the other languages of the area (comparable to the continuing use of Greek and Latin in English). Throughout, it continues to be known informally and locally as farsi. To summarize, apart from the colonial language policies of the past and local nationalistic sentiments today, the idea of a separate identity in dari and tojiki continues to have limited significance for native speakers. Those who emphasize them have more concern for

persian, farsi, dari, tajiki

101

national cultural equality than for linguistic form (if only because as separate standards they are inadequately described and the amount of scholarship—international as well as local—relating to them is of little significance). Whatever the future may hold for Persian in Central and Southwest Asia, Persian speakers today still identify with a single language community. Beyond this cultural core Persian continues to enjoy a high cultural value among the large number of people who speak, read, and write it as a second or third language. 4.3. Persian I and Persian II Outside Iran, “Persia” remained the Western name for the Iranian polity from the time of Herodotus until the Iranian government requested the use of “Iran” in diplomatic correspondence in 1935. Shortly before the 1979 revolution official usage was once again made optional (in view perhaps of the public relations value not only of the connotations of “Persia” in European languages but also of a more categorical differentiation from Iraq). But the separation of the name of the country (Iran) from the name of the language (Persian) for a full generation had already had its effect in the popular mind and made easier the introduction of farsi to English usage. Persian is now generally known only as the national language of Iran and might therefore just as well (it may be argued) be called by a distinctive name. Meanwhile, dari and tojiki have easily acquired in the West the separate identity that the Soviet and Afghan governments had sought for them. Much else has changed that was beyond the control of governments, as part of the general shift in relations between the countries in the area and between these countries and the Western world. After the severance of diplomatic relations between Iran and the United States in 1979, academic enrollments in Persian in American universities decreased significantly (similar to the case of Chinese after 1949). There is also a significant change in the objectives of students who enroll. The establishment in America of a major branch of the Iranian post-revolutionary diaspora—one of the most highly educated of its type—has generated a new type of student, pursuing cultural heritage within the American liberal-arts framework—an option not readily available to immigrants from, for example, Vietnam or the Philippines—of University programs that were designed to train students for doctoral research in history and literature have more and more been

102

brian spooner

called on to cater to the interests of ‘heritage language’ students with essentially non-academic objectives. Since university curricula are now largely enrollment-driven, these interests must be accommodated. This accommodation cannot but influence the way we teach. We are obliged to reevaluate our programs and their relationship to the rest of the curriculum. We find, for example, that for most purposes, a Persian language course is now measured in simple functional terms against courses in other “less commonly taught” languages (LCTLs), not (as was the case until the early 1980s) in terms of its success as an introduction to one of the world’s great literatures, which represented a major episode of world civilization as well as the living heritage of several Asian countries and the basis of educated speech and literacy for a hundred million people. Lack of awareness of what might be called the changing academic ecology of Persian has led us to react defensively against the type of demands that are made of LCTL instructors in general, that Persian should be taught primarily as a spoken language of everyday life, according to the informal pronunciation of the Iranian capital, Tehran. The University of Pennsylvania has been teaching Persian intermittently since the early part of the last century and continuously since 1949. But until the 1970s it was taught as a classical language only—the language of one of the world’s richest literary traditions, dating from the tenth century and still vital today as the basis of public interaction, with no break in continuity. It was in this form, after all, that it continued to be important also as a professional language among native speakers of other languages in the region. Persian had entered the Western curriculum in the first place not because it was the national language of Iran, but because it had been an international language of educated speech and writing throughout a large part of the civilized world, comparable to Hellenistic Greek, the original koine, which predominated in similar functions over an overlapping area a millennium or so earlier. Persian has now for some time been taught in all the major Middle East programs in the United States, but as a modern rather than a classical language. Academic attitudes toward it have changed as a result not only of the emergence of Iran as a major regional power in the 1960s but also because of changes in academic priorities and in the criteria (never entirely explicit) for the inclusion of particular languages in the curriculum. Few now are aware that the earliest Western students of Persian had studied it in the 18th

persian, farsi, dari, tajiki

103

century as the bureaucratic and classical language of Mughal India. Official interest in the language grew because of its importance beyond the “North West Frontier” of British India (though within India its importance was declining, and it was replaced with Urdu for official purposes in 1835–1837). Interest faded following the independence and partition of India in 1947, since when the academic division of the world into areas has located Iran within the Middle East. Now most prospective students associate Persian almost exclusively with modern life in Iran and study it because of Iran’s role in the Middle East. There is at least one case of an experienced Persian instructor being considered ineligible for promotion because of an Afghan accent—in a major American university. Changing attitudes towards Persian in the West are related to changes on the ground in the region, and the relationship works both ways. Since the early 1970s at the University of Pennsylvania and elsewhere, the teaching of Persian as it is used for everyday public purposes in modern Tehran has gradually diverged from the teaching of the classical form of the language. In most cases students now are introduced to Persian first as the standard language of modern Iran, only secondarily in its classical form, and rarely at all in its other standard national forms—of Afghanistan and Tajikistan—let alone the non-standard forms still in use in considerable populations scattered (somewhat unevenly) throughout the region (see Farhadi and Perry, 2009, for a description of Persian as spoken in Kabul ). This divergent and narrowing specialization of Persian instruction has resulted partly from the pressures of funding agencies, which have sought to promote social science studies and country-oriented research at the expense of literature and region-oriented research in area-studies programs, and partly also from a diversification of academic, professional, and other interests among students. But the divergence has confused rather than clarified the situation, because it is usually not explicit, it is by no means complete, and it is more evident in some institutions than others. There is also inconsistent classification of the language in terms of difficulty for English speakers. It is important to note that Persian (when taught as the modern language of Iran) is relatively easy to begin with, because some of the basic vocabulary is cognate with English and the syntax is similar. Beyond the initial hurdle of a strange alphabet, the student finds relatively simple sentences with familiar structures.

104

brian spooner

Partly for this reason introductory Persian classes are often relatively large. However, few students progress far into the intermediate level because of the increasing need to deal with vocabulary, syntax, and usage that are culturally alien to English speakers as a result of the high degree of convergence with the major non-Indo-European languages in the region, Arabic and Turkish, as well as the importance of imported Arabic vocabulary. Enrollments in Persian (when taken for essentially nonacademic, but now common, purposes) tend to fall off sharply after the first year, further endangering its future in the curriculum. We are left with a dilemma. Persian has at best an uncertain future in Western universities. If it is seen as the national language of Iran, with little to distinguish it from other less-commonly-taught languages in the eyes of the average university administration, its best chance for survival is probably along the lines of Armenian, supported by an expatriate community with ties to a home country. In the long term it is unlikely to attract more than the occasional student of non-Iranian background. But there is little evidence so far to suggest that the Iranian expatriate community, despite its size and its resources, would support Iranian studies as strongly as the Armenian community supports Armenian. This process will weaken the status of Persian outside Iran. 4.4. Policy Implications Decisions about language policy in Afghanistan, Iran and Tajikistan in particular, but also to some extent in the region in general are made in the shadow of the heritage of a millennium in which Persian was the principal, if not the only written language. (Arabic was little used outside the madrasa, where Persian was also used.) This shadow plays differently in different countries today because of the local nationalistic relations that have evolved between them over the past century. Iran can only gain from international acceptance of Persian as one of the major languages of world literacy. The other countries face a dilemma: if their language is the same as Iran’s they lose their major defense against what they identify as Iranian cultural imperialism. By using a different name for their modern version of Persian and allowing it to diverge as a result of separation from the longstanding textual tradition of the region (which is now associated primarily with

persian, farsi, dari, tajiki

105

Iran), they gain socio-political reinforcement for their local nationalism, but they weaken their claim to its historical base. The spread of modern education favors the political process and reduces the value of the textual tradition. The division of Persian in the Western curriculum into dari, farsi and tajiki is similarly related to a shift of academic interest from the textual tradition to political realities. The die is probably already cast, though much depends on regional politics over the coming generation. To break out of this track it would be necessary not simply to make the negative case: that Persian should be broken into three national languages to be categorized as LCTLs and programmed in the curriculum according to modern standard methods, if at all. Rather, a major investment in the construction of a positive case is required, perhaps through UNESCO channels: that Persian be recognized along with a very few other languages at the level of international cultural heritage—as a language whose native speakers are outnumbered by those who use it to varying degrees for a range of purposes, including professional and research purposes, as a second or third language because of the literature for which it became a vehicle over the past millennium. Such a category of languages would include English and French in the Western world and Chinese in Asia. (There would of course be other candidates, but not a large number.) Categorized in this way it would be easier both for the countries concerned to build positively on their shared linguistic heritage, and to maintain a place for Persian (inclusive of dari, farsi and tajiki) in the Western or international curriculum. The academic appeal of Persian would be increased and less dependent on the vagaries of international politics. Instruction in it could once again be integrated into a larger program of courses on the history and cultural products for which it is the key, for a liberal-arts curriculum, rather than being ghettoized with other LCTLs, as a skill. In the meantime we should choose our terms carefully, and avoid using terms that could bring the force of Western hegemony behind the process of (non-Western) linguistic divergence. If we leave no doubt that what we are teaching is Persian, in the larger or inclusive sense, we can continue to claim that we are teaching not only the major language of Afghanistan, Iran and Tajikistan (as English programs teach the English of America, Anglo-phone Africa, Australasia, South Asia, the U.K., etc.), but also an historically important international language that continues to play an important role in vocabulary building in other historically related languages. If some of us say we teach farsi,

106

brian spooner

we risk being overtaken for good by the “national language” image with the implication that what we teach is no more or less important (or loved) than the modern nation-state of Iran. The “farsi” image will sweep us along in the direction mapped out by the Soviet colonial ideology and the linguistic nationalisms it has left behind, besides implicating us in the more dubious crime of unnecessarily inventing English words. Those of us who are native speakers to boot might perhaps also be accused of linguistic imperialism. But more significantly, by disguising the international and historical significance of the language by using the term farsi in situations where it is not necessary to distinguish particular details of modern usage in different countries, we not only damage our case for keeping Persian and its literature in the liberal-arts curriculum, but we also lend the weight of the international curriculum to linguistic divergence in Central Asia. As a result the status of Persian outside Iran is likely to be reduced. In either case, if we continue to emphasize modern usage in language studies, we have a serious problem. We have to organize our teaching around the standard usage of a particular community of native speakers. Which “standard” Persian pronunciation and usage are we to work with in this multi-national, multi-cultural age? dari? farsi? or tojiki? If we take the position that we are working with Persian, the historical international language, in full consciousness of all the implications, we have an excellent case for defining our own role in the changing modern curriculum and reclaiming the status that Persian used to hold in it, making us immune to the pressures that have recently put us on the defensive. However, maintaining this position will require strong leadership, because it puts us at odds with the professional community of modern language teachers that has emerged over the past generation, who are native speakers of one variety of the language. Meanwhile, language policy in Iran, Afghanistan, Tajikistan and other countries of western and south Asia are torn between the historical forces of identity that depend on the cultural value of classical Persian poetry and the modern forces of ethnicity and nationalism that demand ethno-linguistic integrity. Since the Islamic Republic of Iran is the largest modern community of Persian speakers, this discussion would not be complete without some attention to the Iranian point of view, specifically a review of what has been done in Iran over the past few generations by languageconscious Iranians both in and out of government to promote the modern value of the language that is their treasured heritage and the

persian, farsi, dari, tajiki

107

major historical thread in their cultural and modern political identity (cf. the powerful case made in Meskoob 1992). The process of nationalization of the language began in the colonial period. Neither Iran nor Afghanistan were actually taken over by a Western imperial power. But the British interest in India’s northwestern approaches and their concern with Russian imperial expansion and European intrigue were the major factors leading to the definition, organized by the British, of an internationally recognised border between Afghanistan and Iran guaranteeing them both the status of modern nation-states (cf. Goldsmid 1876, McLachlan 1994). Although the major historical cities of the Persianate world have been distributed fairly evenly throughout the territory that is now divided among Afghanistan, Central Asia and Iran, the history of the last three centuries has left modern Iran with the largest claim to represent the achievements of the past. How did this happen? The first half of the 18th century was a period of general decline and disintegration in south, central and southwest Asia. Then the major cities of Central Asia (Bokhara, Khwarazm, Marv, Samarqand) were cut off from the larger Persianate world by Russian expansion, a partition of the Islamic world that was later reinforced by the Soviet Government. The founding of Afghanistan in 1747 was achieved in basically the same way as all the earlier cases of Islamic history (a process that was immortalized by ibn Khaldun four centuries earlier), but from a city (Qandahar) that had not previously been a Persianate capital. So Afghanistan, which had been at the geographical center of the citied (cf. Hodgson 1974 vol. 1, p. 50) Persianate world was built not on the citied heritage of the Persianate world, but on the tribal heritage of its geographical interstices. Although the historical cities of Herat, Kabul, Mazar, and Qandahar, and even Ghazni, are important players in the history of Afghanistan, their role is in no way comparable to Isfahan, Kerman, Mashhad, Tabriz and Tehran, among others, in Iran. Herat, which was historically perhaps the most significant of Afghanistan’s cities, suffered in the 19th century first from dynastic conflict inside it, and later conflict over it with Iran. Ghazni, which was one of the early political centers of the Persianate world in the 11th century, has never risen back to urban significance. But while Afghanistan became a tribal polity with an urban periphery, Iran was built on a citied core with a tribal periphery. The early rulers of Afghanistan hired a Persianate bureaucracy, but they never integrated with the tribal elite. Iran therefore by the historical accident of urban continuity has greater

108

brian spooner

claim to the heritage of the Achaemenians and the Sasanians in the modern world. Iran’s claim is strengthened by the city of Isfahan and the Safavids, and the distinctiveness in the modern world of their Shiʿite Safavid heritage. But for over half a millennium, down to the 16th century, Persian had served as the sole language of public interaction, formal and informal throughout the Persianate world, extending well into China, and southern India, and even for a time under the Ottomans into the Balkans. During this time it carried with it a general culture of Islamic urbanity but no association with any particular political, cultural or religious minority or subcommunity. The rise of the Safavid Empire at the beginning of the 16th century was to transform this situation—as the largest modern political community of Persian speakers, the successor state to the Safavid Empire (1501–1722), distinguished from its neighbors as the only state to establish the Twelver Shiʿite interpretation of Islam. From the time of the fall of the Sasanian Empire and the Arab conquest (651 ad) down to the rise of the Safavids (1501) Iran was a cultural concept without a location, while Persian was the language of administration, belles lettres and public life in general, for everyone regardless of their local vernacular. Shiʿism was more prevalent in some parts of the Islamic world than others, and was generally associated not with any government (apart from periods of prominence under the Buyids, 930s–1055 in Mesopotamia and the Iranian Plateau, and the Fatimids, who followed a different branch of Shiʿism in Egypt and North Africa at roughly the same time) but with opposition to legitimate Sunni governments. During the Safavid and later the Qajar periods, partly as a result of the influence of Western ideas and political and economic pressures, the historical idea of Iran had become associated with a particular empire, an empire that promoted the Twelver Shiʿite interpretation of Islam. As Iran was transformed into a nation-state (a process in which Western imperialism was a catalyst). Persian became its national language. The fact that the new Iran claimed a territory that had been at the heart of the pre-Islamic Persian empires helped but did not determine this process. Much of what has now become Afghanistan, or Central Asia or southern Iraq, could claim the same heritage. In the crucial period of the second half of the 18th century Afghanistan was in fact the stronger polity. But the Afghan polity, despite the fact that its second shah established a Persianate administration, arose from a different, non-citied, identity.

persian, farsi, dari, tajiki

109

Although not understood at the time, the events of this period had the effect of changing the status of Iran and Persian in relation to other Persianate successor states and their use of Persian. As a result the modern issue of the relationship between language and ethnic or national identity emerged and governments began to find the need for policies relating to language use. The Ottoman Empire had already switched from Persian to a highly Persianate form of “Ottoman” Turkish, in a gradual process beginning as early as the 15th century. But if the British Government in India had not replaced Persian with Urdu in 1835 (and subordinated Urdu to English). Persian could have become the national language of Pakistan, in continuity with its heritage as the successor state of the Mughal Empire (1526–1857) and the primacy in its territory of the Mughal city of Lahore. For discussion of the change from Persian to Urdu in north and south India see the articles by Aslam Syed and Anwar Moazzam in Spooner and Hanaway (in press). Afghanistan sought to separate itself from the hegemony of Iran by raising the status of Pashto, and in 1964 changing its name for Persian from farsi to dari. In the part of Central Asia north of Afghanistan that came under Russian rule, emphasis shifted to the Turkic vernaculars, with the exception of the late (1928) Soviet creation of Tajikistan where Persian was continued as the national language (though 40% of the population spoke Uzbek and a significant number of the remainder spoke other Iranian languages) but under a changed name, tojiki, in the Cyrillic alphabet. The status of Persian in China changed as a result of similar processes. The many other local languages and dialects of Iran were now in conflict with the inclusiveness of modern conceptions of national identity, and their numbers have diminished at an increasing rate since the 1950s. .

4.5. Language Policy in Iran Once Persian had become fully nationalized in Iran, the purity of its identity became as important as the purity of Iranian national identity, inclusive within and exclusive without its borders. Language became a matter for government policy in the 1930s. Over the next few decades five specific problems came to be addressed: A. The proportion of Arabic vocabulary that had been adopted in the written language over the past millennium.

110

brian spooner

B. The modern tendency to adopt loan words from French, and later from English. C. The need to create new vocabulary for modern science and technology. D. The rights of ethno-linguistic minorities to publication and education in their own languages. E. The need to accommodate the normal processes of language change to issues of language policy. Underlying all five of these problems was the history of Persian as recounted in this chapter: the barely conscious assumption that Iranian national identity was based on the linguistic continuity of the past millennium as represented in the writings of classical authors, and that it must therefore be managed carefully. Partly for this reason Persian as written continued to change very slowly through the middle of the 20th century, but has speeded up since the 1970s—a process accelerated by a significant rise in the rate of literacy, and by increased interaction with the outside world, followed by the social consequences of the revolution in 1979. The first three of the problems enumerated above were dealt with by the establishment of language academies. The work of these institutions and the linguistic awareness that led up to them has been interestingly documented and discussed by Perry (1985). Under Reza Shah (1925–1941) the government had established the first Iranian Academy (Farhangestan) in 1935 with the mandate to coin new words that would keep the language abreast of new developments in the world of science and technology. However, the Academy’s tasks also included responsibilities for gathering the language’s historical vocabulary, and formulating its grammar, as well as investigating the issue of script or alphabet reform. Insofar as it is related in some way to issues of orthography the historical development of modern nationalistic language awareness among Iran’s elite is usefully documented by Hashabeiky (2005, especially chapter 4, pp. 73-124). She reviews discussions of the relationship between Persian and its script from the middle of the 19th century onwards, following the introduction of printing and the expansion of interaction with Europe. News of the initiation of the tanzimat period in the neighboring Ottoman Empire (1839–1876) may also have been a factor, on top of the loss of territory to Russia in the Caucasus (by the Treaties of Golestan in 1813 and Turkmanchay in 1828). The tension between Westernizing intellectuals, many

persian, farsi, dari, tajiki

111

of whom lived abroad, and an Islamizing and nationalistic majority in Iran, which continues today, became significant in the second half of the 19th century. Alphabet reform was considered by many to be a contributing factor to under-development and a sense of national inadequacy in a West-dominated world. But nothing was done about it at the level of government, until the reign of Reza Shah (1925–1941), and his son, Mohammad Reza (1941–1979). The Society for Alphabet Reform was founded in Tehran in 1945. But interest in Romanizing the script seems to have passed its peak in the 1950s. The first Academy achieved little, was inactive for much of the time, and finally closed in 1953. It was not reopened until 1970, by which time nationalist concerns about alien vocabulary had shifted from Arabic and French to English (cf. Jazayeri 1958), and interest in Romanization (which had been inspired by Ataturk’s example in 1928) had lost its appeal. The work of the second academy was cut off by the events of 1979, and it was not until 1990 that a similar body was again opened, this time with the title of Academy of Persian Language and Literature. With regard to the fourth question, opposition to the hegemony and monopoly of Persian within Iran was slow to emerge. There were signs of pressure to allow publication in Azari in the 1960s. For a few years starting in the late 1960s the satyrical weekly tawfiq got away with publishing columns in street Turki and street Arabic, presumably because it appeared to make fun of them. This practice was, however, stopped by the mid 1970s, and no publication was permitted in any of the other minority languages, such as Balochi, Kurdish, Turkmeni.3 Public use of these languages was restricted to brief radio programs, mainly national news. Since the Revolution in 1979 Iran has been no less nationalistic, but it effuses a new linguistic self-confidence. Several factors may have contributed to this change. The dramatic increase in literacy rates, that began with the work of the Literacy Corps as part of the White Revolution in 1963, resulted during the mid to late 1970s (the period leading up to the Revolution) in a sea change in the historical relationship between the written and spoken language. It was no longer possible for a small elite to control the country through control of the written language—the medium of administration, and the national

3 Armenian and Assyrian Christians were allowed to publish in their own languages.

112

brian spooner

culture and identity. Ordinary people with standard basic education now shared the benefits of access to the written language. After the Revolution the class that was as comfortable in French or English as Persian, and would rarely talk in Persian with a foreigner, had moved abroad. A new class had become literate and moved into the national elite. Even though Western doctorates were not uncommon among them, they saw no reason not to speak Persian, and they were less concerned to suppress the use of minority languages. Now publication in Azari and Kurdish is common (see http://kurdistantoday.ir/News Detail.aspx?itemid=1683), though these languages do not compete with Persian to any significant degree, and education remains entirely Persian-medium, presumably because of the continuing cultural power of the classical tradition. All policy issues in Iran now are influenced both by general processes of globalization and by particular Western attempts to influence. Since the U.S. is now funding Azari broadcasting specifically for Iranian Azari-speakers (see http://www.eurasianet.org/departments /insight/articles/eav031008a.shtml) the situation may change again. However, the high literacy rate (irrespective of social class or higher education) and general access to international media make it unlikely that government policy will be able to control language effectively any more in the long term. The rate of change in everyday language usage has picked up, the proportion of Arabic loanwords appears to be decreasing, and the written language is no longer entirely controlled by the models of the classical period. The loss of these classical models in which the models for public behavior were also embedded (known as adab) is also seen in the process of cultural change. Now that a population of seventy million has equal access to information and plays an equal part in the formation of public opinion, new forms of competition, political voice and public behavior are beginning to appear which would have horrified an earlier generation. 4.6. Appendix: Is Persian Diglossic? Some readers may wonder why the term diglossia does not appear in this chapter, given the space devoted to it in the Introduction, and the use C.A. Ferguson made of Persian in his initial definition of diglossia (1959: 325). In the formative period of modern language studies, when the textual study of a small number of individual

persian, farsi, dari, tajiki

113

languages (philology) gave ground to the study of language in general throughout the world (linguistics), the concept of diglossia was an important contribution to the effort to find patterns in language use that would facilitate comparative studies and the development of theory. Many elements of Persian language usage fit the diglossia pattern. However, by simply dropping Persian into the diglossia basket we would distract attention from a number of other significant elements that distinguish it from that pattern. Ferguson begins his article by introducing the idea of diglossia as “the use of two or more varieties of the same language” in a single speech community. He then uses Persian (along with Italian) as a prime example of a situation of “perhaps the most familiar” type of diglossia: in which there is a “standard language and regional dialect . . . where many speakers speak their local dialect at home or among family or friends of the same dialect area but use the standard language in communicating with speakers of other dialects or on public occasions.” (He does not give sources, and he makes no reference anywhere in his article to the work of scholars who specialized at that time in the study of Persian. However, an earlier article of his (1957) suggests that he used native speakers who were students at Harvard as informants.) In the same opening paragraph he offers other different examples, and compares the whole phenomenon to the process of language standardization in Germany and France. The article then elaborates his definition by means of a comparative review of the cases of Arabic, Modern Greek, Swiss German, and Haitian Creole. The history of each of these languages, and their diglossic divergence is of course different, as he freely admits. The question here is what would be gained or lost from including Persian in the same catalogue as just another variety of diglossia. The answer to this question is relative, rather than black and white, but is relegated here to an appendix in order to avoid confusion with the argument about language policy. The concept of diglossia in its broadest sense might be expected to include Persian. But this would leave open the question of whether that would be analytically useful. In its broadest sense diglossia could include even English, or in fact any language with an established tradition of literacy, since every written language develops over time according to a different dynamic from speech. Ferguson’s references to Persian, both in the diglossia article (1959) and elsewhere appear to take no account of the larger context of Persian usage, historical and modern, but rather to treat it as comparable to Italian (ibid.), viz.

114

brian spooner

simply the language of a single modern national community. This treatment omits a number of significant features, and does nothing to improve our understanding of modern Persian usage. The point of this brief appendix is to clarify what distinguishes Persian from the typical diglossic language, and explain why it has evolved differently. Ferguson was writing in the 1950s, when the literacy rate in Iran was very low (perhaps 30%). Following the development of a Literacy Corps in 1963 (after the model of the U.S. Peace Corps), which provided teachers for village schools throughout the country, within a decade or so the literacy rate rose spectacularly. It is now around 90%, probably the highest of all countries using the Arabic script, and higher than is typical of the situations commonly classified as diglossic. The importance of these figures lies in what they show about the rate and quality of change in the relationship between written and spoken language over the past half-century. If literacy is a major factor in diglossia, then the nature of diglossia in Iran has changed out of recognition in not much more than a single generation, to the point where if it fitted the situation in the 1950s it would have to be completely redefined for use today. Attention to the historical situation introduces further complications. The history of Persian continues to be significant in modern usage. As in other parts of the world Iranians today live under the cultural shadow of the past. The past still conditions the present in modern Western societies where history is losing its place in the curriculum. The Islamic World, and Iran in particular, continues to be historically aware, for reasons that are both Islamic and nationalistic. As we have reviewed already, modern Persian has had a continuous history since its re-emergence in the routinization of political life that followed the Arab conquest of West and Central Asia in the 7th century. During the following centuries it spread fast despite the fact that the lands that had earlier been under Persian rule now looked towards an Arabic speaking Caliph in Baghdad as the symbolic center of the new order. In the 13th century, however, the Mongols arrived from the East, put an end to the symbolic center in Baghdad and established an empire that stretched from Western Asia into China. Mongol administration became the vehicle for the further expansion of Persian—across Asia into China, and later by successor empires into southeastern Europe and South Asia. What English has been for global communication in the 20th century, Persian was in the high Middle Ages—the most important

persian, farsi, dari, tajiki

115

language for government, administration, communication and trade throughout the ecumene. Yes, there was a Latinate world to the west (but Venetian nobles sent their sons to Beirut to learn Persian), and a Sinic world to the east (but Persian was the language of commerce along trade routes well into central China, cf. Morgan 2011, and is still taught as a language of religious commentary in many Chinese mosques), and an Arabicate world in Africa (but Persian words found their way as far west as Wolof in modern Senegal ). Moreover, English has for the most part not replaced local languages. Persian, on the other hand, offered membership in the larger ecumene of civilized life of the time. Those who joined it were not choosing a high (written) language for a particular purpose and leaving a low (unwritten) language or languages for less formal purposes. Rather by writing Persian and speaking it (as it was written, according to adab) they were participating in activities of larger political, economic and literary significance, leaving the use of other local languages for interaction with people who operated only on the local level without awareness of the Persianate ecumene. Persian was the English of the high Middle Ages, when Central Asia was the center of the world. But its cultural value and its political and economic significance were always changing. Its use expanded from the 8th to the 13th centuries. It was at its height in the 14th century. And it began to decline in the 15th, through a creeping process of vernacularization, comparable to the emergence of the Romance languages at the expense of Latin in Europe. First, the Ottoman administration switched to a highly Persianized form of Turkish. South Asian vernaculars began to encroach in the 17th century, first Pashto and Urdu, later Sindhi. The British in India finally shifted from Persian to a partnership of English and Urdu in 1835. Perhaps the last government of a non-Persian speaking population to change was the Princely State of Hyderabad which completed the process in 1884 (cf. Moazzam 2011). The process was accelerated in the 19th century by the administrative reorganization of Asia, and the division of the Persianate world, under British and Russian imperial rule. Persian had provided the cultural glue that held together all the local Muslim polities and trade centers from Anatolia to the Yellow River and from the Aral Sea to the Deccan in south India. When this world became divided between two external non-Muslim empires, Persian lost the function that was its strength. But change in other dimensions of public life lagged, again in ways that are comparable with Latin in the West. Persian continued

116

brian spooner

its literary function into the 20th century. It finally disappeared from the school curriculum in India and Pakistan at roughly the same time as Latin was dropped from the curriculum in England. But the cultural value of its literature continues to support its international status to a far greater extent than Latin in the West. As the world continued to change in the 19th and early 20th centuries, not only did the use of language change, but academic attitudes toward the study of language also changed. Although the relationship between Sanskrit and Greek had been noticed in the 16th century, it was the work of Sir William Jones in the 18th century (1746–1794) that spurred the first great expansion of language study to include the textual records of all Indo-European languages. The next acceleration in the process came with the rise of interest among anthropologists in non-written languages in the late 19th century. Linguistics emerged as a new field of study only in the 1940s, with a new focus on the scientific study of language in general, whether written or not. It gradually incorporated textual studies, as historical linguistics, the textual study of written languages, which had been known as philology. While this development led very quickly to spectacular advances in understanding of language in general, it tended to orphan some types of historical language study, in particular the historical sociology of literacy. Persian is a very good, perhaps the best, example of such a victim. It has been particularly unfortunate for Persian because (unlike, for example, Latin) little work had been done on it earlier. Persian has been one of the three most important written languages in world history. It’s vast corpus of literature continues to be highly valued in the original as well as in translation in a number of countries besides the three (Afghanistan, Iran, Tajikistan) which use it as official languages, albeit under different names (dari, farsi, tajiki) in forms which differ to a similar degree to the modern English of Australia, England and the U.S. References Alam, Muzaffar. (1998). “The Pursuit of Persian: Language in Mughal Politics,” Modern Asian Studies 32: 317-49. Ferguson, Charles A. (1957). “Word Stress in Persian,” Language, vol. 33, no. 2, pp. 123-35. ——. (1959). Diglossia, Word, vol. 15, pp. 325-40. Farhadi, Rawan and J.R. Perry. (2009). “Kaboli,” Encyclopaedia Iranica. http://iranica .com/articles/search/keywords:kaboli%20persian

persian, farsi, dari, tajiki

117

Goldsmid, F.J. (1876). Eastern Persia: An Account of the Journeys of the Persian Boundary Commission, 1870–71–72. London: Macmillan. Hamid, Hamid. (1994). “Zaban-e Farsi va Hoviyyat-e Melli,” in Marashi 1994, pp. 116-31. Hashabeiky, Forogh. (2005). “Persian Orthography, Modification or Changeover (1850–2000),” Studia Iranica Upsaliensia, vol. 7, Uppsala University. Hodgson, Marshall. (1974). The Venture of Islam, Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Jazayeri, M.A. (1958). “English loanwords in Persian: a study in language and culture,” PhD dissertation, University of Texas at Austin. Kucera, Joshua. (2008). “Iran: US Government Planning Azeri-Language Broadcasts to Iran,” Eurasia Insight, (March 10, 2008). http://www.eurasianet.org/departments /insight/articles/eav03331008a.shtml (12/04/2009). le Strange, G. (1905). The lands of the Eastern Caliphate: Mesopotamia, Persia, and Central Asia from the Moslem conquest to the time of the Timur, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Marashi, Mehdi (ed.). (1994). Persian Studies in North America, Bethesda MD: Iranbooks. Matini, Jalal. (1994). “Yek zaban va seh nam!” in Marashi 1994, pp. 9-21. McLachlan, K.S. (ed.). (1994). The Boundaries of Modern Iran, New York: St. Martin’s Press. Meskoob, Shahrokh. (1992). Iranian National Identity and the Persian Language 900–1900, The Roles of Court, Religion, and Sufism in Persian Prose Writing, trans. Michael C. Hillmann, John R. Perry (ed.), Washington, D.C.: Mage Publishers. Moazzam, Anwar. (2011). “Urdu Insha: The Hyderabad experiment, 1860–1948,” in Spooner and Hanaway 2011. Morgan, David. (2011). “Persian as a lingua franca in the Mongol Empire,” in Spooner and Hanaway 2011. Nawid, Senzil. (2011). “Language Policy in Afghanistan: Linguistic Diversity and National Unity,” this volume. Paul, Ludwig. (2010). “Iranian Language Reform in the Twentieth Century: Did the First Farhangestan (1935–1940) Succeed?” Journal of Persianate Societies, vol. 33 no. 1, pp. 78-10. Perry, John R. (1985). “Language reform in Turkey and Iran” International Journal of Middle East Studies, vol. 17, pp. 295-311. ——. (1996). “From Persian to Tajik to Persian: Culture, Politics and Law Reshape A Central Asian Language,” NSL, vol. 8. Linguistic Studies in the Non-Slavic Languages of the Commonwealth of Independent States and the Baltic Republics, Howard I. Aronson (ed.), University of Chicago, 1996, pp. 279-305. ——. (1997). “Script and Scripture: The Three Alphabets of Tajik Persian, 1927–1997,” Journal of Central Asian Studies, vol. II no. 1, pp. 2-18. ——. (1999). Comparative Perspectives on Language Planning in Iran and Tajikistan, Language and Society in the Middle East and North Africa: Studies in Variation and Identity, Yasir Suleiman (ed.), London: Curzon, pp. 154-74. Rahman, Tariq. “The Learning of Persian in South Asia,” unpublished manuscript. Spooner, Brian. (1992). “Do you speak Persian? or farsi? or dari? or tojiki?” Penn Language News, no. 4, pp. 5 and 22-4. ——. (1994). “Are we teaching Persian? or farsi? or dari? or tojiki?” in Marashi 1994: 175-90. ——, and William L. Hanaway. (2011). Literacy in the Persianate World: Writing and the Social Order, Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. Yarshater, Ehsan. (1994). “Pasdari-ye zaban-e farsi,” in Marashi 1994, pp. 1-8.

SECTION II

CENTRAL ASIAN REPUBLICS OF THE FORMER SOVIET UNION

CHAPTER FIVE

REVERSING LANGUAGE SHIFT IN KAZAKHSTAN1 William Fierman In the last two decades a growing number of scholars have studied attempts to raise the status of languages that have been on the losing end in the process of language shift. Among the most well-known cases are those on behalf of Catalan (which lost ground to Spanish) and Irish (which lost even more ground to English). The field of research that has begun to examine the efforts on behalf of the weaker languages has become known as “RLS,” i.e., “reversing language shift.” Much of the theoretical foundation for the work in this area has been laid by Joshua Fishman, under whose editorship Reversing Language Shift appeared in 1991.2 Indeed, in the view of linguist Angela Bartens, it was with the appearance of this volume that the RLS field “came into being.”3 In the light of the first ten years of case studies, Fishman revisited his RLS theory and in 2001 produced a new edited volume, Can Threatened Languages Be Saved?4 In the cases of Catalan and Irish, as well as perhaps most other languages for which RLS is undertaken, the majority of their speakers likely know at least one other language. Considering, for the moment, the bilingual speakers of Catalan and Irish (who in most cases know Spanish and English, respectively) their use of Catalan and Irish is likely to be largely determined by domain of activity. In particular, 1 A substantial part of the material in this article originally appeared in Russian in У. Фиерман, “Поворот языкового сдвига в Казахстане” Этнографическое обозрение No. 6, 2005, pp. 49-71 Research for this article was supported in part by a fellowship from IREX (International Research & Exchanges Board) with funds provided by the United States Department of State through the Title VIII. 2 Joshua A. Fishman, Reversing Language Shift: Theoretical and Empirical Foundations of Assistance to Threatened Languages (Philadelphia: Multilingual Matters, 1991). 3 Angela Bartens, “Review of Can Languages Be Saved?’” The Linguist List, http:// cf.linguistlist.org/cfdocs/new-website/LL-WorkingDirs/pubs/reviews/get-review .cfm?SubID=3834. 4 Joshua A. Fishman, Can Threatened Languages Be Saved? Reversing Language Shift, Revisited: A 21st Century Perspective (Buffalo: Multilingual Matters, 2001).

122

william fierman

Irish or Catalan speakers are most likely to use these languages in the home. However, in other domains, ranging from primary education to mass media, commerce, public services, the legal system, and higher education, it seems likely that on many days outside the home, certain Irish or Catalan speakers would use at least some English or Spanish, indeed, perhaps exclusively English or Spanish. As discussed by Schiffman and Spooner in the introduction to this volume, situations in which different languages are used in different domains are referred to as diglossic. Diglossia may involve two very different languages (such as Irish and English); however, it may also involve two closely related languages such as Catalan and Spanish, or even closer as in parts of Switzerland, where both High German and local varieties of Swiss German are used.5 Regardless of the linguistic distance between languages, diglossia may be quite stable as long as each language or language variety is the one primarily or exclusively used in particular domains. However, language shift is likely to occur in situations in which a “stronger” language begins to displace the “weaker” one in spheres previously reserved for the latter.6 Viewed from this perspective, RLS thus involves the weaker language re-acquiring some of its functions. This is often an uphill battle. It should be kept in mind that, as Fishman demonstrates, today even most of the world’s “stronger” languages are dominant only in a relative sense. Thus, a dominant language in a medium-size European country (say, Greek in Greece) is in an unfavorable position visà-vis major world languages, such as English or French. This means that even languages which gain ground through RLS are unlikely to become the sole languages used by their speakers. In today’s globalized world, members of most speech communities “will forever be bi- or trilingual, with each of their languages—even the most powerful of

5 Much of the foundation for later work on diglossia was laid by Charles Ferguson in his 1959 article “Diglossia” in the journal Word, vol. 15, no. 2, pp. 325-40. Here Ferguson describes cases of diglossia involving societies where closely related languages are used. Subsequently, Fishman extended the term to societies with linguistically more distant or even remote languages (“Bilingualism With and Without Diglossia; Diglossia With and Without Bilingualism,” Journal of Social Issues vol. 23, no. 2 [1967], pp. 29-38). 6 Fishman (1967), p. 36.

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

123

them—enacting only special and complementary functions.”7 Consequently, in the vast majority of cases, RLS involves “embarking on a carefully multilingual and multicultural existence.”8 In describing RLS and making recommendations about the best way to attempt it, Fishman repeatedly likens weak languages to sick human beings. Similar to patients with particular diseases that also afflict others, such languages also require treatment that, although unique in certain details, is designed for the same malady. Therefore, Fishman advises, what weak languages need “are not generalised predictions of dire and even terminal illnesses, but, rather the development of therapeutic understandings and approaches that can be adjusted so as to tackle essentially the same illness in patient after patient.”9 Fishman acknowledges that many RLS-ers (as he refers to those pursuing RLS) are reluctant to accept this reality and may view a struggle for limited RLS goals as a kind of “defeat.”10 However, Fishman argues that goals should be selected based on a sober calculation: in a particular case it might be prudent to recognize the impracticality or even impossibility in the foreseeable future of creating a network of secondary education institutions with the weak language as the medium of instruction (e.g., when there are few young speakers). In such a case, it might be better to focus first on efforts at a lower level, such as cultivating opportunities in which senior citizens with good language competence use and teach the language to younger people through story-telling, traditional arts, and crafts at a neighborhood or community level.11 Because resources are limited and should be used most efficiently, Fishman says that “ ‘Reasonableness in all things’ is a far better maxim for the pursuit of RLS in a focused linkage pattern than ‘the sky’s the limit.’”12

7 Joshua A. Fishman, “From Theory to Practice (and Vice Versa): Review, Reconsideration and Reiteration,” in Joshua A. Fishman (ed.), Can Threatened Languages Be Saved? (Buffalo: Multilingual Matters, 2001) p. 476. 8 Ibid. 9 Joshua A. Fishman, “Why Is It So Hard to Save a Threatened Language?” In Joshua A. Fishman (ed.), Can Threatened Languages Be Saved?, p. 1. The analogy of a language to a sick human being has been the target of criticism by anthropologists, among them Joseph Errington. See “Getting Language Rights: The Rhetorics of Language Endangerment and Lost,” American Anthropologist vol. 105, no. 4 (2003), pp. 723-32. 10 Fishman 2001b, p. 17. 11 Fishman 2001a, pp. 468-9. 12 Fishman 2001a, pp. 475-6.

124

william fierman

Although Fishman’s approach is partly prescriptive, he does not present a rigid order. Rather, he offers a “Graded Intergenerational Disruption Scale” (GIDS), characterized as a “logical set of priorities or targets to guide RLS-efforts towards a desired goal.”13 This scale progresses from four phases with the goal of attaining diglossia to four others which are supposed to transcend it. The latter four include establishing domains for a weaker language in the mass media, governmental service, the workplace, and education. Fishman maintains that “Stage 6” (third from the bottom in the GIDS scale) is commonly the RLS “fulcrum.”14 This “crucial nexus of intergenerational mother tongue transmission” is the “intergenerational and demographically concentrated home-family-neighbourhood community.”15 Although Fishman concedes that the fulcrum may be at another stage for RLS efforts for a particular language at a particular time, he stresses that in order for RLS efforts to be effective, stages should be linked and reinforce one another. This means, for example, that RLS work that focuses on schools is more likely to accomplish its goals if it is closely linked to efforts in the home-family-neighborhood environment. In one of the relatively few predictive moments, Fishman forecasts a drastic and painful failure for “solely school-based language study.” This is above all because in order for RLS efforts to succeed, a language needs a “society in which it can function, before school begins, outside of school during the years of schooling and afterwards, when formal schooling is over and done with [emphasis in original].”16 This clearly implies that diglossia involving a sick language is unlikely to succeed if RLS relies on school-based study without attention to use of language in the home. Fishman’s advice to eschew unattainable goals reflects a recognition that declaring policy and implementing it are very different kinds of undertakings, and that overly ambitious proclamations are likely to fail because language planners lack the resources and mechanisms to carry out their plans. Acknowledgement of the particular challenges posed by language policy implementation is hardly new. In the pioneering volume published in 1974 titled Can Language Be Planned,

13

Fishman 2001a, p. 465. “Stage 6” is actually the third of the eight stages, which begin with “Stage 8;” the last stage is “Stage 1.” 15 Fishman 2001a, pp. 466-7. 16 Fishman 2001a, p. 471. 14

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

125

the concluding chapter with the “Research Outline for Comparative Studies of Language Planning” identified policy formulation, codification, elaboration, and implementation as the four major subdivisions of language planning.17 In the agenda for research laid out in this piece, Fishman and his three co-authors described “the entire process of implementation” as “least frequently studied.”18 Although in the intervening decades many scholars have turned attention to language policy implementation,19 this process is still often overlooked.20 Whatever the reason for this, the oversight does not mean that implementation is not important. Indeed, as Harold Schiffman and Brian Spooner note in the introduction to this volume, implementation tends to be the Achilles’ heel of language planning. Fishman’s study provides a useful framework for studying efforts to reverse language shift that occurred in the case of Kazakh, one of the major Turkic languages spoken in the former USSR, now the state language of Kazakhstan. By the 1970s and 1980s, Kazakh had lost serious ground in many domains to Russian, the most widely spoken language in the Soviet Union. This phenomenon, which was especially pronounced in urban areas, was in large part a result of Soviet policy designed to create a sense of commonality among the diverse population of the USSR, whom ideologists described as the “Soviet people.” After presenting background on Kazakhstan and a brief overview of language status at the end of the Soviet era, I will examine Kazakh RLS efforts since the late 1980s. I will argue that although efforts to strengthen Kazakh have been focused on the “higher” stages of RLS, and have largely ignored the home environment and critical linkages that Fishman stresses, the prospects for a robust Kazakh language and the re-establishment of Kazakh-Russian diglossia in the future are bright. I will present evidence that Kazakh RLS has been at least

17 Joshua A. Fishman, Jyotirindra Das Gupta, Björn H. Jernudd, and Joan Rubin, “Research Outline for Comparative Studies of Language Planning,” Can Language Be Planned? Joan Rubin and Björn H. Jernudd (eds.) (Honolulu: University of Hawaii, 1971), p. 293. 18 Ibid., p. 299. 19 For a list of some of the literature on this dimension, see Harold Schiffman’s “Bibliography on Language Planning and Implementation” at http://ccat.sas.upenn .edu/plc/clpp/bibliogs/implementbiblio.html, accessed 12 March 2006. 20 See Harold Schiffman, review of Michael E. Brown and Šumit Ganguly (eds.), Fighting Words: Language Policy and Ethnic Relations in Asia, review published in Journal of Asian Studies, vol. 63, no. 4 (2004), pp. 1069-71.

126

william fierman

partially successful, and consider reasons for the success despite Kazakh RLS-ers’s “misdirected efforts.” Because the shift from Kazakh to Russian and the consequent need for RLS largely concern towns and cities, this chapter will largely ignore rural areas, where in fact the majority of Kazakhs still live. Based on guesstimates of various informants in Kazakhstan who have studied ethnic relations, it appears that even in the late 1980s, somewhere in the range of 85 to 90 percent of rural Kazakhs could comfortably converse in Kazakh on everyday subjects. It is likely that the proportion of rural Kazakhs who could not speak Kazakh exceeded 10 or 15 percent only in certain raions (districts) of oblasts (provinces) bordering on Russia. Among the 85 to 90 percent of rural Kazakhs who could comfortably speak on everyday subjects, many certainly resorted to Russian for communication in particular domains, e.g., television or radio listening, technical education, or political activities. Thus, in most rural areas of Kazakhstan inhabited by Kazakhs, diglossia prevailed. As we will see below, however, the situation in urban areas was very different. Only in recent years has this situation begun to change significantly. 5.1. Background on Soviet Nationality and Language Policy The overall thrust of language policy in the former Russian Empire and over the period between the 1917 Bolshevik seizure of power and collapse of the USSR in 1991 was undoubtedly assimiliationist. Despite this, it is useful to remember that until the early 1930s, the Bolshevik leaders, attempting to distinguish themselves from their tsarist predecessors, pursued many “internationalist” initiatives. One of the areas in which this “internationalism” is easiest to trace is historiography. In its early years the Bolshevik regime endorsed the Pokrovsky school, which was highly critical of the role of the tsarist state as oppressor and conqueror of foreign peoples.21 In its “internationalist” phase of the 1920s and early 1930s, official party doctrine stressed that tsarist policies had persecuted non-Russians, among other ways, by refusing to allow them their own political institutions and destroying their cultures. This phase in which tsarist policies were depicted

21 Roman Szoporluk, “The Ukraine and Russian” in Robert Conquest (ed.), The Last Empire: Nationality and the Soviet Future (Stanford, CA: Hoover, 1986), p. 168.

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

127

in uniformly negative fashion ended abruptly in the early 1930s. New, quickly rewritten official versions of history treated the Russian conquest of non-Russian peoples much more positively, with emphasis on the “progressive” role of Russia’s expansion; references to Russian’s oppression of other peoples were largely omitted. The “internationalist” phase was clearly reflected in language policy. During this period the Bolsheviks encouraged creation of writing systems for many languages (in some cases, their very first writing systems), launched massive literacy campaigns, and promoted the use of non-Russian languages in administration and education. Indeed, Russian administrators working in non-Russian areas were exhorted to learn local languages and promote members of the local ethnic groups.22 Such initiatives were unceremoniously dropped in the first half of the 1930s, after which Moscow no longer encouraged rapid expansion of non-Russian languages into such domains as higher education and administration.23 The shift in policy was also reflected in the prescribed lexical items for non-Russian languages. Whereas in the late 1920s there was a tendency to create new vocabulary for many “languages of the Soviet East” through borrowing from such languages as Turkish, Persian, and Arabic, in the mid-1930s, the regime declared many of the recently approved words “archaic” or “counterrevolutionary,” and replaced them with equivalents similar to Russian words or identical with them. The trends even extended to phonetics and spelling.24 Language instruction in schools also reflected the primacy of Russian: in 1938 Russian language became an obligatory subject in non-Russian schools throughout the USSR. A critical symbolic change

22 See Terry Martin, The Affirmative Action Empire. Nations and Nationalism in the Soviet Union, 1923–1939 (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2001), Ch. 3; William Fierman, Language Planning and National Development. The Uzbek Experience (Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter, 1991), pp. 173-92; and Gerhard Simon, Nationalism and Policy Toward the Nationalities of the Soviet Union (Boulder, CO: Westview, 1991), Ch. 2. 23 Not coincidentally, the mid-1930s also witnessed Stalin’s purges, and the Communist Party became much more dominated by Russians. See Martin, Ch. 9; Fierman (1991), Ch. 9; and Simon, Ch. 3. 24 At least in the case of Uzbek, another Central Asian language, the name of the Shakespearean drama “Hamlet” (as it had been called in the early 1930s) became “Gamlet” (reflecting the Russian pronunciation and transcription). I do not know for sure that this same change was made in Kazakh in the 1930s. However, by the 1970s the name of the play (in Cyrillic) was spelled with a “G.” (“Gamlet,” Qazaq sovet entsiklopediyasy, vol. 3 [Almaty, 1973], pp. 145-6.)

128

william fierman

at the end of the 1930s was the replacement of Latin-based writing systems that had been adopted for many languages at the end of the 1920s. The newly dictated scripts were based on the Cyrillic alphabet. Linguistic russification was carried out with the support of theories of the linguist Nicholas Marr, who posited that all languages of the world were moving towards eventual unification. According to this theory, diglossia and bilingualism in the Soviet Union (and, indeed, throughout the world!) were temporary phenomena that would disappear with the triumph of one world language. Though rarely articulated in explicit fashion, it became clear that the single world language would strongly resemble Russian. Subsequent to the “internationalist” phase, almost any developments that brought non-Russian languages closer to Russian or that expanded the domains of Russian use were declared “progressive;” those which did not were denigrated as “reactionary” or “nationalist.”25 Although the degree of adherence to this principle varied during the remainder of the Soviet era—and it affected different languages in very different ways—until the 1980s, it was extremely dangerous for a Soviet citizen to declare openly that Moscow’s russification policies were in any way harmful. Directing a state with a very centralized political and economic system, by the early 1930s, the Communist Party had extremely powerful levers through which to affect language use. The Soviet state, under Communist Party direction, controlled all schools, all mass media, all factories and farms, all public services and—though in somewhat less direct fashion—even legally sanctioned religious institutions. This did not mean that the Party was all-powerful or did not have to temper policies because of factors that it could modify only slowly, if at all. Even Stalin—had he decided during the terror of the 1930s that the entire Soviet population should begin to speak Russian only—could not have obliged all parents in the far-flung empire to speak to their children in Russian. Some parents did not know Russian; moreover, even Stalin’s reach into the home was limited. In addition, however, the regime needed to transmit political messages, provide technical training, and communicate about other subjects to a population that 25

Soviet rhetoric, however, continued to use the word “international,” but the meaning of the word in official Soviet lexicon changed radically in the early 1930s. See Martin, p. 457. Russification remained a central element of Soviet linguistic policy even after Stalin’s repudiation of Marr’s theories in 1950.

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

129

did not know Russian, or else knew it poorly. It therefore was obliged to use the languages they understood. Russian could not be made to serve overnight. Another reason for allowing use of non-Russian languages, one which became more important as the terror of the Stalin era subsided after 1953, was that blatant discrimination against non-Russian languages could aggravate the Party leadership’s relations with members of society on whom Soviet rule depended. This is not to imply, of course, that (for example) the Georgian or Estonian intelligentsia could have overthrown Soviet power in their republics. However, by the last decades of Soviet rule, the central leadership could not entirely ignore issues affecting its own legitimacy. In this context it is worth noting that in 1978 a proposal to remove reference to Georgian as the sole official language of the Georgian SSR in that republic’s new constitution led to large scale demonstrations. This outburst forced the Soviet leadership to allow the new constitution to maintain the reference to Georgian.26 Despite such concessions to non-Russian languages, in the 1970s and 1980s, the Soviet leadership undertook major campaigns to promote Russian as non-Russians’ “second mother tongue.” These efforts were especially prominent in educational policy. As a result, for example, the number of hours devoted to Russian language instruction in non-Russian schools was increased, pay bonuses were introduced for Russian-language teachers in non-Russian schools, new language laboratories were installed, and special journals devoted to the teaching of Russian to non-Russian children were established. In some schools with non-Russian medium of instruction, teachers and pupils alike were exhorted to use only Russian at school one day a week.27 It would be misleading to imply that language shift to Russian was a result solely of direct Party pressure to promote “the second mother tongue” and limit the use of others. Indeed, because Russian offered superior opportunities for educational and social mobility, many nonRussian parents consciously chose to send their children to schools 26 Ronald Grigor Suny, The Making of the Georgian Nation (Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 1988), p. 309. 27 See Isabelle Kreindler “Forging a Soviet People: Ethnolinguistics in Central Asia,” in William Fierman (ed.), Soviet Central Asia: The Failed Transformation (Boulder, CO: Westview, 1990), pp. 219-31, and William Fierman “Language Development in Soviet Uzbekistan,” in Isabelle Kreindler (ed.), Sociolinguistic Perspectives on Soviet National Languages (Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter, 1985), p. 221.

130

william fierman

with Russian (rather than the native language) as medium of instruction. In many cases, of course, parents had no choice but to send their children to Russian-medium schools. In particular, for ethnic groups without their own “union republics,” instruction in the native language was frequently available only for the first grades (especially in the last decades of Soviet rule), most often in rural areas. Indeed, even in the case of certain non-Russian union republics, urban areas had few titular-language schools.28 Outside of Belorussia and perhaps Ukraine, Kazakhstan was the republic where this situation was most pronounced. This is one of the major factors that shaped the need for RLS after Kazakhstan’s independence. Before looking at these efforts, however, we must consider the geographic and demographic context for these efforts. After this, we will examine Kazakh RLS efforts during the last two decades, some indicators of success, and prospects for the future. 5.2. Geographic and Demographic Background on Kazakhstan Geography has been and remains a critical factor shaping Kazakhstan’s development. The territory of today’s Republic of Kazakhstan (RK) (virtually identical to that of the Kazakh Soviet Socialist Republic [KazSSR] in the late Soviet period) is an enormous landmass sharing a border of over 4000 miles with Russia. As an independent state, Kazakhstan is the ninth largest country on the planet. Most of its frontier with Russia lacks such natural barriers as rivers or mountains. For this reason, and because it has been part of the Russian Empire and Soviet Union, the economy and transportation network of many areas in the north and east of Kazakhstan have traditionally been more tightly linked to Russia than to the most densely populated areas of Kazakhstan in the south. At its peak, during the late Soviet era, Kazakhstan’s population exceeded 16 million.29 Following the collapse

28 For a description of the situation in Ukraine see Roman Solchanyk “Catastrophic Language Situation in Major Ukrainian Cities,” Radio Liberty Research Bulletin RL 286/87, July 15, 1987. For Belarus, see Kathleen Mihalisko “Language Revival: What Would It Require in Belorussia?” Report on the USSR, vol. 1, no 11 (March 17, 1989). 29 Current Kazakhstan official calculations based on the 1989 Soviet census show a republic population of 16.2 million at the beginning of 1989. Unless otherwise

Vo lga

(Aktau)

Aral Sea

(Aktobe)

Aqtöbe

70

s

Khan Tāngiri Shyngy

Naryn

KYRGYZSTAN

Almaty

Lake Balkhash

(Semipalatinsk)

Semey

Er ti

80

Ōskemen

80

90

50

40 0 100 200 km 0 100 200 mi

C H INA

90

MONG.

RUS SIA

(Ust’ Kamenogorski)

Ob’

Map 1. Kazakhstan and adjacent areas. Source: CIA World Factbook, accessed at https://www.cia.gov/library /publications/the-world-factbook/geos/kz.html.

60

TURKMENISTAN

(Karaganda)

Qaraghandy

ASTANA

Taraz Shymkent

Da ry a

tsh

Pavlodar

Iry

Qyzylorda (Kyzylorda)

Baykonur Cosmodrome

(Kostanay)

Qostanay

Sy r

70

Petropavlovsk

UZBEKISTAN

60

ya ar D u Am

50

(Atyrau)

Atyraū

Oral

RUS SIA

(Ural’sk)

Aqtaū

Caspian 40 AZER. Sea

50

50

reversing language shift in kazakhstan 131

132

william fierman

of the USSR, it fell to under 15 million,30 and even at the beginning of 2010 it was still only slightly over 16 million.31 Though both in Soviet days and in the period of independence, Kazakhstan has been named for one of the groups inhabiting its territory, its ethnic composition is far from homogenous. Indeed, at the beginning of 1960s, the Kazakh population was just under 30 percent. By the last Soviet census (1989) its share had grown to about 40 percent. However, it still barely surpassed the Russian share of about 37 percent.32 Naturally, with Kazakhs and Russians consistently accounting for about 80 percent or more of the population, all other ethnic groups in Kazakhstan are much less numerous. The largest one—Uzbeks— comprise 2.9 percent; the next largest, Ukrainians 2.0 percent; no other single group accounts for more than 1.4 percent.33 The picture for two of the “minor” groups has changed dramatically since 1989. At that time Ukrainians comprised well over 5 percent, as did Germans (who, due to emigration, have fallen to only 1.1 percent today).34 We should note that even though Kazakhs outnumbered Russians at the time of independence, the total population of Slavic nationalities—Russians, Ukrainians, Belorussians, and Poles—still accounted for a total of over 44 percent and thus outnumbered Kazakhs. This is important for language processes because non-Russian Slavs were overwhelmingly fluent in Russian, and many were more proficient in Russian than “their own nationality language.” Indeed, by the late 1980s, a similar phenomenon applied to the majority of Kazakhstan’s most numerous non-Slavic groups as well, including Germans, Tatars, and Koreans.

indicated, census data cited here for 1989 and 1999 are taken from a volume containing the 1999 (sic) Kazakhstan census: “Qazaqstan Respublikasynyng statistika zhonindegi agenttigi,” Qazaqstan Respublikasy khalqynyng ulttyq quramy (Tom 1) (Almaty, 2000). 30 Ibid. 31 “Podvedeny itogi Natsional’noi perepisi naseleniia Respubliki Kazakhstan 2009 goda,” 4 Feb. 2010, accessed 3 May 2010 at http://www.stat.kz/p_perepis /Pages/n_04_02_10.aspx. 32 Published results of the 1959 All-Union Soviet census show Russians comprising almost 43 percent of Kazakhstan’s population in January 1959 (Tsentral’noe statisticheskoe upravlenie pri Sovete ministrov SSSR, Itogi Vsesoiuznoi perepisi naseleniia 1959 goda [Moscow: Gosstatizdat, 1962], p. 206). 33 “Podvedeny itogi . . .” 34 “Podvedeny itogi . . .”

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

133

Although space precludes a detailed examination of the ethnic composition across various regions of Kazakhstan, it is important to keep in mind the RK’s regional heterogeneity. In general, Kazakhs are the dominant group in the south and west, but Slavs come close to equaling or even outnumber Kazakhs in certain areas of northern, eastern, and central Kazakhstan. In the late Soviet era, Russian dominance in these regions was even greater. For the present study, which focuses on RLS in urban areas, it is critical to note the traditionally very high proportion of Slavs in Kazakhstan’s urban areas. In 1989, non-Kazakhs comprised 73 percent of Kazakhstan’s urban population, including close to 58 percent Slavs (of whom the overwhelming majority was Russian [51 percent]). Thus, at that time, for the republic as a whole, urban non-Kazakhs outnumbered urban Kazakhs by a ratio of almost three to one.35 Like the share of Kazakhs in the entire population of different regions, the share in urban areas also varied greatly from province to province. For example, as of 1989, in the case of the then existing seventeen oblast centers (i.e., provincial capitals), Kazakhs were the majority in three of them. In all the remaining ones, however, Kazakhs comprised less than a third of the population, and in seven, Kazakhs comprised less than a fifth of the population.36 Since then, the demographic situation has radically changed in urban areas throughout the country. From their share of 27 percent of urban inhabitants in 1989, by 2004 Kazakhs had increased to a share of about half of all urban inhabitants.

35 The Soviet census data for Kazakhstan in 1989 demonstrate the high level of Russification among non-Russian Slavs in KazSSR cities. Even though there was a general tendency in the USSR for individuals to claim the language of their ethnic group as their own native (rodnoi) language (even if they did not fact know it), in 1989, over 63 percent of the KazSSR’s 584,824 urban Ukrainians, over 66 percent of the urban Belorussians, and over 81 percent of the 27,113 urban Poles claimed to be native Russian speakers (and not native speakers of the language of “their ethnic group”). The same was true for about half of the 469,803 urban Germans and 86,977 urban Koreans (Gosudarstvennyi Komitet po Statistike SSSR [GosKomStat] Itogi Vsesoiuznoi perepisi naseleniia 1989 goda. tom VII, chast’ 1 [Moscow, 1991–1993], p. 300). 36 Based on data from B. Khasanuly, Ana tili—ata mura (Almaty: Zhazuwshi, 1992), pp. 148-58. The number of oblasts (and consequently number of oblast centers) fluctuated at the very end of the 1980s, in particular because of the liquidation and then quick re-establishment of Mangyshlaq and Torghay Oblasts.

134

william fierman Table 1. Ethnic breakdown RK population 1989, 2004, and 2010 % of % of RK % of % of % of % of total % of total RK urban total RK RK urban population KazSSR KazSSR population population population population in RK population urban 2004 2004 2010 2010 oblast 1989 population centers 1989 plus Almaty and Astana 2010

Kazakhs All non-Kazakhs All Slavs Russians “Other” Slavs Neither Kazakhs nor “Other Slavs”

40 60

27 73

57 43

49 51

61 39

N.A. N.A.

58 42

44 37 7

58 51 8

31 27 4

41 37 4

27* 24 3

N.A. N.A. N.A.

35* 28 7

16

14

12

10

12

N.A.

7

* 2010 data for Poles are not available and are therefore not included. However, they almost certainly constitute less than 0.3 percent of Kazakhstan’s population. Source: (data for 1989) Qazaqstan Respublikasynyng statistika zhonindegi agenttigi, Qazaqstan Respublikasy khalqynyng ulttyq quramy (Tom 1) (Almaty, 2000), pp. 21-4 and (data for 2004), “Qazaqstan Respublikasynyng statistika zhonindegi agenttigi,” Qazaqstannyng demografiyalyq zhylnamalyghy 2004 (Almaty 2005), p. 18.

Unfortunately, because Kazakhstan no longer publishes data broken down into rural and urban categories by ethnic group, it is not possible to provide data analogous to the numbers cited above for the most recent years. However, judging from available data on the share of Kazakhs in Kazakhstan’s most important cities (oblast centers plus Almaty and Astana), it is clear that the trend noted just above has continued. Although in 1989 Kazakhs were an even smaller minority in the “oblast centers” considered here than in the Kazakhstan’s total urban population at that time, today the majority of the population in the “oblast centers” is Kazakh. As the following table indicates, the change over two decades has been dramatic.

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

135

Table 2. Ethnic breakdown RK “oblast centers” 1989 and 2010 % of population in % of population in Kazakhstan oblast centers Kazakhstan oblast centers plus Almaty and Astana plus Almaty and Astana 1989 (est.*) 2010 Kazakhs All non-Kazakhs All Slavs Russians “Other” Slavs Neither Kazakhs nor “Other Slavs”

23 77 63 55 8 14

58 42 35 28 7 7

Source of data: for 1989, Khasanuly, Ana tili—ata mura (Almaty: Zhazuwshi, 1992), pp. 148-58; for 2010, Qazaqstan Respublika Statistika Agenttigi, Seriya 15. Demografiya. 2010 zhyl basyna Qazaqstan Respublikasy khalqynyng oblystar, qalalar zhane auwdandar boyynsha, zhynysy men zhekelegen zhas quramy, zhekelegen etnostary boyynsha sany. * Cities included in the data here, besides Almaty and Astana, are those that were oblast centers in 2010. (Thus, for example, data are not included for Semey (Semipalatinsk), which was an oblast center in 1989 but which was not an oblast in 2010. Data for Poles and Belorussians are not available for any of the “oblast centers.” I have estimated the number of Belorussians to be approximately 5 percent the number of Russians. For five cities, most importantly Qaraghandy, the number of Ukrainians is not available. I have made a conservative educated guess in these cases. It is likely that overall the data above for 1989 slightly understate the “other Slavic” share of the population.

5.3. Kazakh Language Status in the Late Soviet Era At the time of independence, very few Slavs or other non-Kazakhs had any competence in the Kazakh language.37 More important for our

37 Until the late 1980s, Western scholars had few opportunities to conduct archival or on-site research on sensitive issues in Kazakhstan, and Soviet sources were very selective in publishing information on linguistic processes. These factors severely limited the scope and depth of research on the Kazakh language published in the West prior to 1991. General information in English published prior to the collapse of the USSR on Soviet language policy (including Kazakhstan) can be found in Stefan Wurm, Turkic Peoples of the USSR: Their Historical Background, their Language, and the Development of Soviet Linguistic Policy (Oxford, 1954); E. Glyn Lewis, Multilingualism in the Soviet Union (The Hague: Mouton, 1972), and Bernard Comrie, The Languages of the Soviet Union (NY: Cambridge University Press 1981). Some of the best Soviet-era research on language policy in Central Asia (in short articles) was published by Radio Liberty’s research division in research series which appeared under the titles Radio Liberty Research Bulletin and Report on the USSR. Language policy

136

william fierman

Neither Kazakh nor Slav 16% “Other Slavs” 7%

Neither Kazakh nor Slav 14% Kazakhs 40%

Russians 37%

Kazakhs 27%

Russians 51%

Figure 1. Ethnic composition KazSSR total population 1989

Neither Kazakh nor Slav 14%

“Other Slavs” 8%

Figure 2. Ethnic composition RK urban population 1989

Neither Kazakh nor Slav 12% Kazakhs 23%

“Other Slavs” 4%

“Other Slavs” 8%

Russians 27%

Kazakhs 57%

Russians 55%

Figure 3. Ethnic composition “oblast centers” combined with Almaty and Astana 1989. The status of “oblast center” refers to center in 2010, not 1989.

Figure 4. Ethnic composition RK total population 2004

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

Neither Kazakh nor Slav 10% “Other Slavs” 4%

137

Neither Kazakh nor Slav 12% “Other Slavs” 3% Kazakhs 49% Russians 24%

Russians 37%

Figure 5. Ethnic composition RK urban population 2004

Neither Kazakh nor Slav 7% “Other Slavs” 7%

Russians 28%

Kazakhs 58%

Figure 7. Ethnic composition oblast centers combined with Almaty and Astana 2010

Kazakhs 61%

Figure 6. Ethnic composition RK total population 2010

138

william fierman

study of RLS, however, was that an increasing share of urban Kazakhs born after World War II were monolingual Russian speakers, thus producing a very unstable diglossic situation that was sliding towards monoglossia. Besides Kazakhs’ minority status, this was a result of the many direct and indirect ways that the Soviet system offered mobility to those with native-level Russian competency, and penalized those who stuck too closely to their non-Russian cultures and languages. Let us now turn to a very brief overview of use of Kazakh and Russian in various domains at the end of the Soviet era. This will provide a baseline for discussing RLS efforts below.

in Kazakhstan is treated specifically in Martha Brill Olcott, “The Politics of Language Reform in Kazakhstan,” in Sociolinguistic Perspectives on Soviet National Languages: Their Past, Present and Future (Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter 1985), pp. 183-204. For the best English-language treatment of issues relevant to Soviet-era language in Kazakhstan (though only covering the period 1923–1939), see Terry Martin, The Affirmative Action Empire. Nations and Nationalism in the Soviet Union, 1923–1939 (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2001). Western scholars’ opportunities for research on language processes in Kazakhstan changed radically with the advent of glasnost’ in the USSR during the late 1980s and especially after the fall of the USSR, when access became much easier. For an account of general trends in Kazakhstan in the context of other post-Soviet “Muslim” states, see Jacob M. Landau and Barbara Kellner-Heinkele, Politics of Language in the ExSoviet Muslim States (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan, 2001). Unpublished but accessible English-language works focusing specifically on Kazakhstan include Bhavna Dave, “Politics of Language Revival: National Identity and State Building in Kazakhstan (Unpublished PhD dissertation, Syracuse University, 1996); R. Stuart DeLorme, “Mother Tongue, Mother’s Touch: Kazakhstan Government and School Construction of Identity and Language Planning Metaphors,” (Unpublished PhD dissertation, University of Pennsylvania, 1999) available http://repository.upenn.edu/dissertations /AAI9926116/; and Aliya S. Kuzhabekova, “Past, Present and Future of Language Policy in Kazakhstan,” (Unpublished MA thesis, University of North Dakota, 2003), available at http://www.und.edu/dept/linguistics/theses/2003Kuzhabekova.PDF. Published English-language works directly addressing language policy in Kazakhstan during the late Soviet period and beyond include Bhavna Dave “National Revival in Kazakhstan: Language Shift and Identity Change, Post-Soviet Affairs, vol. 12, no. 1 (1996). pp. 51-72, “A Shrinking Reach of the State? Language Policy and Implementation in Kazakhstan,” in The Transformation of Central Asia: States and Society from Soviet Rule to Independence, Pauline Jones Luong (ed.) (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2003), pp. 129-58, and Kazakhstan—Ethnicity, Language And Power (Routledge, 2007); William Rivers, “Attitudes towards Incipient Mankurtism among Kazakhstani College Students,” Language Policy, no. 1, 2003, pp. 159-74; and William Fierman “Language and Identity in Kazakhstan: Formulations in Policy Documents, 1987– 1997,” Communist and Post-Communist Studies, vol. 30, no. 2 (1998), pp. 171-86; “Kazakh Language and Prospects for its Role in Kazakh ‘Groupness’,”Ab Imperio No. 2, 2005; and “Language and Education in Post-Soviet Kazakhstan: Kazakh-Medium Instruction in Urban Schools,” The Russian Review, vol. 65, no. 1 (2006).

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

139

5.3.1. Workplace The overwhelming majority of urban workplaces in the 1970s and 1980s in Kazakhstan were monoglossic, with Russian the language of communication. Above all this was because few urban Kazakhs worked in ethnically homogenous environments, and because in integrated environments very few non-Kazakhs (who almost everywhere constituted the large majority) knew Kazakh. On the other hand, by the late Soviet era, most urban Kazakhs were fluent or had good skills in Russian.38 The probability of using Kazakh on the job was further decreased because in line with Party policy to make Russian the lingua franca of all Soviet citizens, non-Russians were discouraged from speaking in their ethnic group’s titular language in the presence of Russians or others who did not understand it. As described by a Kazakh poet looking back from 1993 at the Soviet era, even when a crowd of forty Kazakhs might gather, the presence of a single Russianspeaker was enough for the Kazakhs to consider it their “obligation” to speak Russian.39 5.3.2. Education Both at the primary and general secondary levels, Russian was the dominant language of education in cities of Kazakhstan. In 1990 (by which time the share was almost certainly higher than half a decade before) fewer than 17 percent of Kazakhstan’s urban children were being educated in the Kazakh language. True, this represented about half of the Kazakh children living at the time in urban areas. However, approximately 60 percent of the schools where these children studied had parallel Russian and Kazakh streams, and Russian was the main channel for communication among students from different

38 In 1989, only about 1 percent of Kazakhstan’s urban non-Kazakhs claimed fluency in Kazakh. At the same time, almost 78 percent of Kazakhs in urban areas claimed a mastery of Russian (Itogi 1989, vol. 7, chast’ I, pp. 296 and 300). Among the employed population the share was undoubtedly even higher. 39 Sadybek Moldashuly, “Tort ayaghyn teng basqan,” Zhas Alash, 14 Jan. 1993, p. 2. By “Russian-speaker” Moldashuly seems to be referring to members of “Russianspeaking” ethnic groups, which would have included not just Russians, but Ukrainians, Belorussians, Poles, as well as others such as Germans and Koreans. For a discussion of the pressures on Kazakhs to speak Russian in Kazakhstan’s cities see Dave (2007), Ch. 3.

140

william fierman

streams.40 In the mid-1980s, the city of Almaty41 was home to over 200,000 Kazakhs out of approximately 1,000,000 inhabitants. Yet only two schools in the city provided Kazakh-medium instruction.42 Higher education in Kazakhstan was overwhelmingly in Russian. As of the 1989–1990 academic year, only 17.9 percent of all students enrolled in Kazakhstan’s higher educational institutions studied in Kazakh-language groups.43 It goes without saying that any Kazakhs who studied in elite Soviet higher educational institutions in such cities as Moscow, Leningrad, Novosibirsk, and Kiev also studied exclusively in Russian. 5.3.3. Mass Media Unlike Kazakh-medium schools, Kazakh electronic mass media were widely available in Kazakhstan’s urban areas in the Soviet era. Still, at least in the case of radio, the situation of Kazakh relative to Russian deteriorated in the USSR’s last decades. Kazakh Radio (i.e., the main radio station for Kazakhstan, not just in Kazakh language) generally transmitted its main program daily from 6:00 a.m. until midnight. Up until the early 1960s, the Kazakh-language share comprised half or even more of total transmissions; however, it was subsequently reduced to only about one third. This was compensated somewhat by twelve hours of Kazakh-language broadcasts of Kazakh Radio’s Shalqar editorial office. The subject mix treated in Kazakh Radio’s Kazakh-language broadcasts probably contributed to a low level of interest among urban listeners: the editorial office of Kazakh Radio in charge of programming specifically for agricultural workers, for example, produced shows with three hours of material daily. This would account for half of all Kazakh-language broadcasts. The agricultural broadcasts in Russian, only two hours, seem to have constituted a much smaller share 40 Unless otherwise noted, data on schools and pupils cited in this chapter for academic years 2000/2001 and beyond are from Agenstvo Respubliki Kazakhstan po statistike, Raspredelenie shkol i chislennosti uchashchikhsia v RK for years 2000/2001, 2001/2002, 2002/2003, 2003/2004, and 2004/2005; likewise, unless otherwise noted, data for earlier years are calculated from material provided to the author by the Kazakhstan Ministry of Education. 41 At the time, the city was known in English by the Russian name “Alma-Ata.” 42 One of the schools in Kazakhstan was a boarding school attended largely by children from other parts of the republic. The Kazakh population of Almaty in 1979 was 147,000 (16.5 percent of the total ); by 1989 it was 251,000 (22.5 percent of the total ) (Mikhail Guboglo, “Demography and Language in the Capitals of the Union Republics,” Journal of Nationalities, vol. 1, no. 4, pp. 28-9). 43 Khasanuly (1992), p. 185.

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

141

of all broadcasts in that language, perhaps only about 15 percent.44 Naturally, in addition to radio broadcasts originating in Kazakhstan, listeners could tune in to a much richer variety of programming from Moscow, which was also likely to be more professionally produced and, of course, in Russian. The quality of Kazakh-language television was reportedly much lower than radio, and seems to have averaged about three hours out of the total eight hours of broadcasts per day. As in the case of radio, the share of Kazakh-language transmissions in republic TV also markedly declined during the 1970s. Likewise, programming from Moscow was much more varied than what was produced locally.45 We cannot be sure of electronic mass media viewing and listening habits, but there is reason to believe that especially among younger urban audiences, Russian-language programming was preferred. 5.3.4. Kazakh Language Competence Although it is difficult to measure, it is clear that the decline of Kazakh was most severe among the younger urban Kazakhs.46 Thus, if it were possible to wind the clock backward to conduct empirical field research in Kazakhstan’s cities of the late 1980s, we would almost certainly find a high correlation between youth and poor Kazakh skills. This is implicit in the description given by Bhavna Dave, who described the unstable diglossia of Kazakhstan’s cities in the mid-1990s saying that “the most striking feature of the language behavior of urban Kazakhs is the remarkable disjunction between the language repertoires of successive generations.” Apparently referring to the end of the Soviet

44 Ramazan Saghymbekov, Almatydan soylep turmyz (Almaty: Qazaqstan baspasy, 1979), pp. 149-53 and information in e-mail communication from Asiya Baigozhina (Almaty) dated 21 March 2005. According to another source that describes what appears to refer to broadcasts of just the main program of Kazakh Radio, as of either 1989 or 1990, only 4.5 out of 19.5 hours were in Kazakh (Qazaq adebiyeti, 23 March 1990). 45 E-mail communication from Baigozhina, 21 March 2005 based on information from Firuza Perzadaeva. 46 It should be noted that Soviet census data are of almost no help in assessing how many Kazakhs actually spoke Kazakh. In the 1989 census, even among urban Kazakhs, over 97 percent claimed Kazakh as their native language. (GosKomStat SSSR Itogi . . . Tom 7, chast’ 1, p. 300). For a discussion of the dynamics of Kazakh’s status in schools, see William Fierman, “Language and Education in Post-Soviet Kazakhstan: Kazakh-Medium Instruction in Urban Schools,” The Russian Review, vol. 65, no. 1 (2006), pp. 98-116.

142

william fierman

era, Dave notes that typically individuals older than about sixty “were primarily Kazakh-speakers, though well-versed in Russian. They still do, or at least used to, read literature in the Kazakh language, and can recite from memory poems, folk songs, and passages from the Kazakh epics.” By contrast, the population between twenty and sixty years of age “is overwhelmingly Russian speaking,” their familiarity with Kazakh depending “primarily on the number of years spent in Kazakh-dominated rural areas.”47 In the last decades of Soviet power there appears to have been an increasingly widespread attitude in urban areas that Kazakh skills were superfluous. This is illustrated, for example, in a 1993 article by a 34-year old Kazakh journalist who deals at length with various issues of linguistic russification. In the middle of his essay he answers a hypothetical question about how to judge those Kazakh parents who sent their children to Russian schools in the Soviet era. He responds to his own question saying, One shouldn’t blame the older generation for sending their children to schools with Russian as the language of instruction if they exhibited national honor by having the child speak in the native language in the family and around elders. The degrading thing was not that their child was being educated in Russian, but that their language and soul were becoming Russian, [i.e.,] that the child would respond in Russian when addressed in Kazakh.48

This negative attitude towards Kazakh was accompanied by scorn towards Kazakhs who spoke anything but perfect Russian. This is represented in an article by a Kazakh writer whose father was one of Kazakhstan’s most famous twentieth century military heroes, Bauyrzhan Momyshuly. Writing in 1989, Baqytzhan Momyshuly (the son), remembers his attitude in childhood to the opening of the Kazakhlanguage boarding school in Almaty: he thought the institution was for culturally backward children and those with disabilities. Momyshuly reports that in the Soviet era many Kazakh parents who had themselves experienced difficulties due to poor Russian sent their offspring to Russian schools because they saw no prospects for their native tongue. The result was that “We, their children, did not understand our mother tongue, and even when we did understand it, we consid47 Bhavna Dave, (1996). National Revival in Kazakhstan: Language Shift and Identity Change. Post-Soviet Affairs, vol. 12, no. 1, p. 66. 48 Kosemali Sattibayuly, “Sana tazarmay, salt zhaqsarmaydy,” Zhas Alash, 4 March 1993.

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

143

ered it rather shameful to respond in Kazakh.” Moreover, Baqytzhan Momyshuly recalls, he and most children like him began to look down on adults whose Russian skills were inferior to their own.49 How many urban Kazakhs could or did speak Kazakh at the end of the Soviet era? The answer, of course, depends on domain of use, and, unfortunately, we have no reliable data to judge. Though they do not generally distinguish among domains, post-Soviet accounts by Kazakhs describing language competency at the end of the Soviet era most often claim that about 60 percent of Kazakhs knew their “mother tongue.”50 Some writers consider even this figure too high, saying that it includes many individuals who could speak Kazakh only with difficulty.51 Other commentators, however, maintain that 60 percent is far too low.52 In any case, it is clear that a very high proportion of Kazakhs in rural areas were fluent in Kazakh in a wide range of domains. Indeed, given that over two-thirds of them were still being educated in Kazakh-medium classrooms, it seems safe to say that over 75 percent would qualify as “fluent” in the definition of accounts cited above. If we assume, furthermore, that those claiming “60 percent Kazakhlanguage fluency” among all Kazakhs also recognize the high level of fluency in rural areas (where 62 percent of all Kazakhs lived in 1989), this implies a very low estimate of “fluency” in urban areas, probably in the range of 30 percent. Given everything we know about the unstable urban diglossia of the time, it is almost certain that among the younger population it was much smaller still.53 49 Baqytzhan Momyshuly, “Zhetimning qaytyp oraluwy,” Leninshil zhas, 15 Sep. 1989. 50 See, for example, S.Z. Zimanov (“Perestroika i ravnopravie iazykov,” Kazakhstanskaia Pravda, 23 Mar. 1989) who states that “40 percent of Kazakhs either do not know their mother tongue or know it poorly” and that in Almaty 90 percent of adolescents (podrostkov) do not speak Kazakh. A. Qaydarov, about the same time, explained the 40 percent figure as the number who could not speak fluently, even though they understood Kazakh (“Memlekettik til zhane oghan baylanysty maseleler turaly oy-tolghauw,” Sotsialistik Qazaqstan, 3 Aug. 1989). 51 Baqqozha Muqayev, “Arymyz da abyroyymyz da,” Leninshil zhas, 1 March 1990. 52 Baqytzhan Khasanuly (1992, p. 198), for example, says that the figure of 40 percent Kazakhs not knowing Kazakh can be accepted only in the sense that it refers to a lack of knowledge of the written literary language; writing in 1992, Kazakh journalist Kamal Smailov claimed that the share of Kazakhs not knowing Kazakh was at most 30 percent (“Radi spravedlivosti” Kazakhstanskaia Pravda, 8 Feb. 1992). 53 If 60 percent of all Kazakhs were “fluent” in Kazakh, and among rural Kazakhs the proportion was 75 percent, this would imply that among urban Kazakhs (who at the time constituted 38 percent of the population) the level of “fluency” was about 30 percent.

144

william fierman 5.4. Political Context for RLS Efforts

Table 3. Dates of major political importance and list of decrees, laws, and programs Mikhail Gorbachev becomes General Secretary of Communist Party of the Soviet Union Kolbin replaces Kunaev as head of Kazakhstan Communist Party Decree “On Improving the Study of the Kazakh Language in the Republic” Nazarbayev replaces Kolbin as head of Kazakhstan Communist Party Kazakh SSR Language law Language program for implementing LL89 Amendments to June 1990 language program. Kazakhstan declares independence Language law of independent Kazakhstan Republic Language program for 1999–2000 Language program for 2001–2110 Presidential decree on completing in stages the shift of office work to Kazakh by 2010 Framework on Expanding the Sphere of Functioning of the State Language . . . in 2007–2010 Beginning of public discussion of new language program for 2011–2020

March 1985 December 1986 March 1987 June 1989 September 1989 June 1990 September 1990 December 1991 July 1997 October 1998 February 2001 May 2006 November 2007 July 2010

Soon after assuming the Soviet leadership in 1985, as part of glasnost’ and perestroika, Mikhail Gorbachev introduced major changes in policies related to manifestation of feelings of identity. Whereas Yuri Andropov and Konstantin Chernenko (Gorbachev’s immediate predecessors) had relied heavily on more and stronger propaganda to inculcate a sense of common belonging, Gorbachev relaxed nationality policy and began to allow greater opportunities for expression of pride in more parochial ethnic, linguistic, and religious identities. Among the non-Russians, intellectuals in the republics of the Baltic (Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania) and south Caucasus (Armenia, Azerbaijan, and Georgia) were leaders in taking advantage of the new freedom and pressing for expansion of its limits. Like their counterparts elsewhere in the USSR, Kazakh intellectuals also took advantage of the new atmosphere to speak in much more favorable terms about their language, culture, and history, and more

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

145

openly critical fashion about russification. One Kazakh poet lamenting the state of affairs in very dire terms claimed that Kazakh was “following the path of Russian in the nineteenth century to a grave state, when it became only a means of communication for the common folk, while the nobility, even children, understood [only] French.”54 Others implied that Kazakh was not only sick, but dead. One critic observed that glasnost’ and perestroika were finally offering Kazakhs the chance to “mourn the loss of their language . . .”55 In addition to the impact of developments in such areas as the Baltic and south Caucasus, language policy in Kazakhstan during the last years of Soviet power was profoundly affected by dramatic events transforming Kazakhstan’s own political life. In December 1986, Moscow removed the republic party first secretary, Dinmukhamed Kunayev, an ethnic Kazakh who had served as the number one political figure in Kazakhstan for over twenty years. His replacement was an ethnic Russian, Gennadii Kolbin, who had no ties to the republic. This shift evoked a broad negative reaction among Kazakhs, including disturbances in a number of Kazakhstan’s cities. Kolbin was to lead the republic only until June 1989, when he was replaced by Nursultan Nazarbayev. Elected president of the Kazakh SSR in 1990, Nazarbayev was subsequently elected and re-elected independent Kazakhstan’s president in 1991, 1999, and 2005. During his tenure as leader of this country, Nazarbayev has overseen the dismantling of the Soviet economic system and allowed political reform that has included creation of independent political parties and development of a relatively free press. Although he has been less authoritarian than leaders in such other neighboring Central Asian countries as Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan, Nazarbayev has created a very strong presidential system and has occasionally dealt harshly with political opponents. Under Nazarbayev, Kazakhstan has begun extensive development of its vast energy-related resources.

54

Fariza Ongharsynova, “Qaytip khalyq bop qalamyz?,” Ana tili, 13 June 1991, p. 3. Izbasar Shyrtanov, “Otkenge orel, qalghangha salauat,” Ana tili, 11 July 1991, p. 3. Shyrtanov is identified as the chair of the Manghystau Oblast Kazakh Language Society. His choice of words in Kazakh, “tilimiz . . . zhoghyn zhoqtauw” clearly brings to mind the mourning of someone who has died. 55

146

william fierman

5.5. Support for Kazakh Language in Formal State Policy Let us now turn to an analysis of state policy concerning language, first taking a look at the late Soviet period, and then proceeding to the era of Kazakhstan’s independence.56 We will briefly consider a 1987 decree on language before considering the two major laws devoted to language. One of them is the (Soviet-era) 1989 law; the other was adopted in independent Kazakhstan in 1997. We will also look at “language programs” that were adopted to amplify both the Soviet-eraand independent-Kazakhstan laws. The program for the 1989 law was promulgated in 1990; two language programs have been issued for the 1997 law, one in 1998 and the other in 2001. As we will see, none of these directives focused on encouraging use of Kazakh in the home or neighborhood. True, some provisions pointed to domains that had the potential to raise consciousness of Kazakh in the family (e.g., through the mass media). However, the focal point of these measures was not home or neighborhood, and at least in the short run these measures did not have a major effect on these domains. 5.5.1. Soviet Era Government Measures Public appeals for more attention to the local languages began to be heard in the Baltic republics in the middle of 1986. This was less than a year before March 1987, when the first official measure of the late Soviet period was adopted addressing the status of the Kazakh language. Its adoption appears to have been a manifestation not only of a slowly evolving change in the Soviet leadership’s overall nationality policy, but more specifically a key element in a the Soviet leadership’s attempt to soothe Kazakh pride, which had been seriously wounded

56

For views by Kazakh scholars on language planning in Kazakhstan, see E.D. Suleimenova and Zh. S. Smagulova Iazykovaia situatsiia i iazykovoe planirovanie v Kazakhstane (Almaty: Qazaq universiteti, 2005) and Bakhytzhan Khasanuly Iazyki narodov Kazakhstana. Ot molchaniia k strategii razvitiia (Almaty: Arda, 2007). The volume by Suleimenova and Smagulova is particularly valuable in its nuanced judgments and the reference to the broader sociolinguistic and language planning literature. For documents relevant to language planning in Kazakhstan, see (for the Soviet period) E.D. Suleimenova (ed.), Iazykovaia politika v Kazakhstane (1921–1990 gody). Sbornik dokumentov (Almaty: Qazaq Universiteti, 1997) and (for 1995–1998, with documents provided both in Russian and Kazakh) see Qazaqstan Respublikasyndaghy til sayasaty. Quzhattar zhinaghy—Iazykovaia politika v Respublike Kazakhstan. Sbornik dokumentov (Astana: Elorda, 1999).

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

147

by the removal of Kunayev in December 1986 and the way in which the subsequent disturbances were handled. This first measure, adopted less than three months after Kolbin’s appointment, was a decree titled “On Improving the Study of the Kazakh Language in the Republic” that was jointly issued by the Central Committee of the Communist Party of Kazakhstan and the Kazakh SSR Council of Ministers.57 Though the document broke new ground by promising “assistance to those who wish to master the Kazakh language, including members of the indigenous nationality,”58 it was framed in fairly familiar rhetoric about “affirming the Leninist principle of bilingualism.” Among other things, the decree called for providing simultaneous Kazakh translations at various public cultural and political events, courses to study Kazakh, and new materials and personnel to improve Kazakh instruction. Nothing in this document suggested organizing any activities that, except in very indirect ways, would foster Kazakh in the home. The next major state regulation concerning language was the Kazakhstan language law adopted in September 1989. This was approximately the midpoint of a year and a half period during which similar laws were approved in all Soviet republics whose republic constitutions did not already give the titular nationality language a special status. Not surprisingly, the first language laws were passed in Estonia and Lithuania, in January 1989; the last republic to adopt a law was Kazakhstan’s neighbor Turkmenistan, in May 1990.59 Although motivated by similar sentiments, RLS-ers in Kazakhstan faced a very different situation than those in the former Soviet Baltic and south Caucasus republics. Everywhere RLS-ers sought a higher status for the titular language. In the Baltic and south Caucasus, however, members of the titular nationality living in urban areas of

57

Postanovlenie Tsentral’nogo Komiteta Kompartii Kazakhstana i Soveta Ministrov KazSSR no. 98 “Ob uluchshenii izucheniia kazakhskogo iazyka v respublike,” reprinted in Iazykovaia politika v Kazakhstane (1921–1990 gody): Sbornik dokumentov (Almaty: Qazaq universiteti, 1997), pp. 251-5. 58 Reference to Kazakhs as the indigenous nationality implies that no other ethnic groups are “indigenous.” Many Russian or Uzbek authors, however, would dispute such a position, claiming that in certain parts of Kazakhstan, they are also “indigenous.” 59 Constitutions of the south Caucasus republics that were adopted in 1978, continuing established practice, stipulated the titular nationality language as the state language; these republics did not adopt language laws parallel to those adopted in all other union republics in 1989–1990.

148

william fierman

their republics were much more likely than Kazakhs in Kazakhstan to speak “their own” language. Even younger urban cohorts of the titular nationality in these other regions of the USSR generally knew both the titular language and Russian; few had become monolingual in Russian. Moreover, at the end of the 1980s, titular languages in all of the south Caucasus and Baltic republics (including Latvia, where Russians were a very large minority) were being used in many more domains than Kazakh was used in Kazakhstan. Language planners in the Baltic appear to have been seeking a sort of diglossia in which in the foreseeable future all non-titular inhabitants would be bilingual and know the titular language, while titular inhabitants would know “their own” language, but perhaps not know Russian. To judge from the direction that things have developed in the independent Baltic republics, this was not an impossible goal. Whether in direct or indirect fashion, Kazakh RLS-ers modeled Kazakhstan’s language law after the Baltic republics’ laws.60 In the heady days of 1989 they might have dreamed of a rapid restoration of Kazakh to a status that was already in sight for the titular languages of the Baltic or south Caucasus; however, this was clearly not feasible in Kazakhstan. Kazakhstan’s 1989 Law on Language(s) (henceforth LL89)61 provides Kazakh, Russian, and local official languages practically equal status in the work of organs of state power and administration in Kazakhstan, as well as in the judicial system (Arts. 8 through 14). It further offers all citizens the right to choose the language in which to conduct their business in such spheres as education, health, commerce, communication, and transport (Art. 16). In addition, LL89 provides all citizens the right to choose their language of education from preschool up through higher education, and guarantees students the right to take entrance exams for higher education in the languages used as medium for instruction in the republic’s schools (Arts.18 and 20). The law also guarantees the equal functioning of Kazakh and Russian

60 Several individuals who participated in writing Kazakhstan’s language law told me that in 1989 they followed laws being adopted in other republics very closely. 61 According to its Russian title, the legislation adopted by the Kazakhstan Supreme Soviet in 1989 was a “Law on Languages” [Zakon o iazykakh], i.e., explicitly dealing with more than one language. However, thanks to the nature of the Kazakh unmarked singular noun, the Kazakh title of the law [Til turaly zang] left it unclear whether the law concerned one language or more than one. (It would have been possible to make the plural nature explicit by calling the document “Tilder turaly zang” in Kazakh.)

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

149

in the mass media and culture (Art. 21). In terms of language instruction, the law makes both Kazakh and Russian obligatory school subjects from primary through higher education, and mandates that both be included in the list of subjects completed by every graduate of secondary school or higher education (Art. 20). The law was originally planned to take effect on July 1, 1990, although some key provisions were to be introduced gradually, e.g., some that concerned government offices over five years, and some others that concerned education over ten years.62 It quickly became clear that—regardless of what might be achieved in such regions as the Baltic republics—plans for implementing LL89 were far too ambitious for Kazakhstan. This is reflected in the fate of “The State Program on the Development of the Kazakh Language and Other National [natsional’nye] languages in the Kazakh SSR in the Period Up Until 2000” (henceforth SP90), the creation of which had been presaged in LL89. This program was accompanied by two addenda, both of which were quickly and greatly softened. The first, which consisted of the names of raions (districts) and cities, provided a deadline by which office work [deloproizvodstvo] should be conducted in the “state language” in each. All administrative units were to have reached this stage by January 1, 1995. The force of the addendum, however, was undercut by a September 1990 Kazakhstan Council of Ministers amendment that delayed introduction of the state language into office work into the indefinite future, leaving it to the discretion of the local administration executive committees to do this, “taking into account the specific social-economic conditions and demographic situation” in each region.63 The other change was to the second addendum to SP90 that, unlike the first, was apparently not published.64 The September amendment annuls a key feature of the unpublished addendum, which apparently mandates an oral Kazakh test for all students entering non-Kazakh

62 “O poriadke vvedeniia v deistvie Zakona Kazakhskoi SSR ‘O iazykakh v Kazakhskoi SSR,’ ” Kazakhstanskaia pravda, 28 Sep. 1989. 63 “O nekotorykh izmeneniiakh i dopolneniiakh k Gosudarstvennoi programme razvitiia kazakhskogo iazyka i drugikh natsional’nykh iazykov v Kazakhskoi SSR na period do 2000 goda,” Kazakhstanskaia pravda, 29 Sep. 1990. 64 In fact, to the best of my knowledge, this addendum has never been published. I became aware of it only because of the amendment to it.

150

william fierman

higher education beginning in 1995.65 The specifics of the implementation of the law are less important here than the rapid backtracking itself, which was no doubt caused by recognition that the goals of the SP90 second addendum were entirely unrealistic. 5.5.2. Government Measures in Independent Kazakhstan It was not until 1997, by which time Kazakhstan had been independent for almost eight years and had already adopted two constitutions (!), that the country adopted another major legal measure focusing on language. This was a second language law, intended to replace LL89. This “Law of the Republic of Kazakhstan on Language(s) of the Republic of Kazakhstan” (henceforth LL97) reflects developments in the constitutions that had been adopted in the interim, in 1993 and 1995 respectively.66 In both of the constitutions, Kazakh is named as Kazakhstan’s sole “state language.” The 1993 constitution also keeps Russian as the “language of cross-ethnic communication.” The 1995 document, however, omits this term altogether, giving Russian vaguely defined functions “on a par with Kazakh in state organizations and organs of local administration.”67 One of the most notable differences between the laws of 1989 and 1997 concerns mass media. The 1989 law guarantees “functioning with equal rights of Kazakh and Russian” in the mass media (Art. 20); it also provides for the production and distribution through the mass media of cultural and scholarly works “in the state language, the language of cross-ethnic communication, as well as other languages of ethnic groups living compactly in the republic” (Art. 23). This is less supportive of Kazakh than LL97, which besides guaranteeing the func-

65 This unpublished amendment had called for a “conversation [sobesedovanie] on Kazakh language and literature (the form of the conversation to be selected by the rector’s office)” to be gradually introduced for secondary school graduates prior to entrance exams for non-Kazak fakul’tety of higher educational institutions. 66 The respective Russian- and Kazakh-language titles of the 1997 law reflected the titles of the 1989 law. That is, as in 1989, the Russian title in 1997 refers again to a law “on languages” (o iazykakh), whereas the Kazakh title refers to a law “on language” (til turaly) (Suleimenova [ed.], 1997, pp. 5, 109). 67 See William Fierman, “Language and Identity in Kazakhstan: Formulations in Policy Documents, 1987–1997,” Communist and Post-Communist Studies, vol. 30, no. 2 (1998), 171-86. The term “language of cross-ethnic communication” has fallen out of the official lexicon in Kazakhstan. The 1995 Constitution also provides that the state look after the creation of conditions for the development and study of languages of the people [sic] of Kazakhstan.

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

151

tioning of “the state and other languages” in publications and the mass media, mandates that at least half of all radio and television broadcasts be in Kazakh (Art. 18). In most ways, however, LL97’s departures from LL89 were much more modest or vague. Thus, although LL97 did not repeat the earlier law’s wording about the use of Russian, it did adopt the inexact wording from Article VII of the 1995 constitution—that “in state organizations and organs of local self government Russian is officially used on a par with Kazakh.” Among the modest gains for Kazakh introduced in LL97 are the changes defining its status in state organs, which, however, leave large loopholes that continue to allow for Russian’s de facto domination. Whereas LL89 states that “Acts of republic organs of state power and administration are adopted in Kazakh and Russian” (Art. 9), LL97 mandates that “Acts of state organs are worked out and adopted in the state language, and when necessary, they may be worked out in Russian with translation being provided into other languages” (Art. 9). Like LL89, the new law keeps both Russian and Kazakh as mandatory subjects in all educational institutions and mandates that they be included in the list of classes completed by every graduate of secondary and higher educational institutions (LL97, Art. 16). The broad outlines for implementing LL97 were laid out in two state programs on the functioning and development of languages, one adopted in October 1998 (covering the period through the end of 2000), and the other adopted in February 2001 (covering the period through 2010).68 In terms of promoting use of the Kazakh language, both the 1998 and 2001 programs focus on “higher” level functions for Kazakh, those which Fishman suggests will not be successful if RLS efforts do not also address “lower” level functions. The closest that the 1998 program comes to promoting language in the home is in its broad declaration about assuring implementation of LL97’s very general statement on the mass media and in calling for a program to create illustrated books for preschoolers as well as cartoons. Even these, however, are buried in a long list of about fifty other tasks, including five that focus on conducting office work in Kazakh. 68

“Gosudarstvennaia programma funktsionirovaniia i razvitiia iazykov [1998],” in Iazykovaia politika v Respublike Kazakhstan (Sbornik dokumentov) (Astana: Elorda, 1999), pp. 161-75 and “Gosudarstvennaia programma funktsionirovaniia i razvitiia iazykov na 2001–2010 gody,” Kazakhstanskaia pravda 17 Feb. 2001, p. 3.

152

william fierman

The program covering the period 2001–2010 is even more explicit in showing that cultivation of language in the home and neighborhood is not a major concern. The second program lists five “priority directions” of work, ordered from top to lowest. The lowest of the five is “language development in the sphere of culture and mass media, as well as in the health and public service sphere.” Of course, use of Kazakh in the family might be indirectly stimulated by greater opportunities for education in Kazakh (mentioned in Priority 2). Nevertheless, this program, as the other documents examined above, are silent on explicit steps that might encourage Kazakh’s reestablishment in the urban Kazakh family. The programs might have included, for example, creation of special materials or television programs for parents with weak Kazakh who wanted to introduce language into the home, or perhaps engaging Kazakh-speaking members of the older generation in organized fashion to provide assistance.69 However, these kinds of steps, which would have addressed what Fishman sees as the “crucial nexus of intergenerational mother tongue transmission,” are absent. Perhaps the state’s lack of attention to language in the family is understandable in that the state is responsible for what happens in the public sphere, but not the home. Indeed, LL97 specifically affirms that the law “does not regulate language use in interpersonal relations or in religious associations” (Art. 2). Nevertheless, considering the law’s clauses on such “high end” language functions as diplomacy, the absence of reference to language in the home is striking. In the years since the adoption of the program covering 2001– 2010, a number of decrees and resolutions have been adopted, usually related to implementation of the ten-year plan. It is worth mentioning two of these in particular. One is a presidential decree (ukaz) modifying the 2001–2010 plan. Among other things, this document outlines the stages for shifting government office work to Kazakh by 2010.70 69 Fishman stresses that RLS movements need to organize such courses as “how to be parents—and even how to be grandparents.” Indeed, Fishman says, “‘How to “do” RLS in your home’ is a course that one can and should be enrolled in repeatedly in every RLS setting and that should be sponsored by every RLS movement and teamtaught by the most experienced, inventive, and dedicated advocates that are available” (Fishman [2001a] “From Theory . . .” p. 479). True, for years Kazakh television has broadcast Kazakh lessons, but the quality and nature of these programs are such that they do not provide much guidance for parents trying to introduce Kazakh into the home. 70 “Ukaz Prezidenta Respubliki Kazakhstan ‘O vnesenii dopolnenii v Ukaz Prezidenta Respubliki Kazakhstan ot 7 fevralia 2001 goda No. 550,’” 30 May 2006 accessed 7 May 2009 through http://www.zakon.kz/engine/print.php?newsid=72542.

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

153

Another document rooted in the ten-year plan is the “Framework for Expanding the Sphere of Functions of the State Language and Raising its Competitiveness for 2007–2010.”71 As the period covered by the plan for the first decade drew to a close, work started on a new tenyear language program to cover the period 2011–2020.72 It should also be noted that there has also been frequent discussion of the need to amend or replace LL97, or else to adopt a separate law addressing only the “state language. Indeed, in 2007, the incumbent deputy chair of the Language Committee announced that he had prepared a draft of a new law.73 To date, however, no such law has been adopted.74 5.5.3. Qazaq Tili Qoghamy and Its Work In 1989, a non-governmental organization known as Qazaq tili qoghamy (“Kazakh Language Society,” henceforth Qtq) was created in Kazakhstan.75 Reflecting the institution’s origins as an “informal”

71 “Kontseptsiia rasshireniia sfery funktsionirovaniia gosudarstvennogo iazyka, povysheniia ego konkurentosposobnosti na 2007–2010 gody,” 21 Nov. 2007, accessed 7 May 2010 through http://www.zakon.kz/98548-postanovlenie-pravitelstva-respubliki .html. 72 “V gosprogramme po razvitiiu iazykov do 2020 g. prioritetnym dolzhno stat’ razvitie gosudarstvennogo iazyka,” Kazinform, 25 Jan. 2010, accessed 7 May 2010 through http://www.zakon.kz/engine/print.php?newsid=160512. A year earlier Kazakhstan’s Minister of Culture and Information had noted the need to begin work on this (“V etom godu nuzhno razrabotat’ novuiu dolgosrochnuiu Gosudarstvennuiu programmu funktskonirovaniia i razvitiia iazykov- M. Kul-Mukhamedov,”Kazinform, 24 Jan. 2009, accessed through http://www.zakon.kz/engine/print.php?newsid=131636. 73 Interview with Muhit Nurtazin, “Men ‘Til turaly’ zhanga zang zhobasyn zhazyp shyqtym,” Ayqyn, 8 June 2007, p. 3. From the interview with Nurtazin it appears that his proposal was broader than a proposed law just on the state language. However, just a few months later a working group reportedly met to discuss proposals for a new law “On the State Language of the Republic of Kazakhstan.” The timing suggests that perhaps Nurtazin’s proposal might have dealt only with Kazakh. (Sostoialos’ zasedanie rabochei gruppy po razrabotke proekta Zakona RK ‘O gosudarstvennom iazyke Respubliki Kazakhstan,” Kazinform, 19 Aug. 2007, accessed 7 May 2010 through http://www.zakon.kz/92297-sostojalos-zasedanie-rabochejj-gruppy.html. Among others, B. Khasanuly (2007) has advocated adoption of a law “On the Kazakh Language as the State Language of the Republic of Kazakhstan” (p. 209). 74 During meetings I held in Kazakhstan spring and summer 2010, a number of Kazakh interlocutors cited the need to adopt a law specifically dealing with the Kazakh language. In discussing the shortcomings of the draft language program for 2011– 2020, Dos Qoshim explicitly criticizes the draft’s failure to mention the need for such a law (Dinara Myngzhasarqyzy, “Til turaly baghdarlamagha talap kushti,” Turkistan, 21 Aug. 2010 accessed through http://www.kazakh-tili.ru/?show=news&id=1547). 75 Initially the organization was simply called “Ana tili” (The Mother Tongue [Society]), with the purview of all languages in Kazakhstan (Kazakhstanskaia pravda, 4 June

154

william fierman

group in the era of glasnost’ and perestroika, the leaders showed every indication of intending to continue their activity as a kind of interest group lobbying government for bolder measures to promote the Kazakh language. At the same time, however, its leaders seem to have expected that, in accordance with traditional Soviet practice for “public” organizations, they would directly or indirectly enjoy generous state funding. This aspiration was not without foundation, since initially the relations between Qtq and the state were very close.76 Beyond this, though, from the very beginning, Qtq manifested pretensions to power of decision-making and control. For example, in 1990, the local Qtq in Qyzylorda took the chairman of the oblast executive committee and the oblast first party secretary to task for their indifference to promoting the Kazakh language.77 At about the same time, the Qtq’s president, A. Qaydarov, suggested that the Council of Ministers empower Qtq to review whether state funds allocated for implementing the language program were being spent effectively by relevant organizations.78 Kazakhstan’s sudden independence at the end of 1991 seems to have stimulated even greater hopes for a rapid rise in Kazakh language status as well as greater demands from Qtq to enjoy the power and wealth accruing to an organization entitled to direct this important process in a newly independent country. Almost immediately upon independence, a prominent literary scholar active in Qtq proposed transforming it into a state committee; in the same breath he proposed requiring a knowledge of Kazakh for all personnel hired into positions of leadership!79 Aspirations for power were also evident in the resolution of the Qtq’s first post-independence (and second ever) qurultay (congress), which called for Qtq to be given rights to investigate, check on implementation and take action on language issues, and for organization of a state “language committee” to work very closely with Qtq.

1989). Reflecting the fact that it was primarily concerned with the Kazakh language (and not other “mother tongues” spoken in Kazakhstan), within months the organization was renamed “Qazaq tili” (Leninshil zhas, 24 Oct. 1989). 76 For a more detailed treatment of Qtq, see U. (sic) Fierman “Elity i alfavity. Povorot iazykovogo sdviga v Kazakhstane,” Etnograficheskoe obozrenie no. 6, 2005, pp. 49-71. 77 “Qiya betkeydegi kosh,” Ana tili, 16 Aug. 1990, p. 3. 78 Ana tili, 16 Aug. 1990, p. 1. 79 Ana tili, 6 Feb. 1992, p. 2.

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

155

It is clear that Qtq’s bold proposals were not in step with the thinking of President Nazarbayev, who spoke at the qurultay. Instead of elaborate praise for the organization’s activities—something his audience would no doubt have greatly appreciated and maybe expected—the president criticized Qtq’s regional branches that had “begun to politicize their work too much,” thus threatening to disrupt civil peace.80 Although it continued to operate, the power and influence of the Qtq waned over the 1990s. As noted in an article in Qtq’s publication in 2000, the number of Qtq branches had sharply declined in recent years, and Qtq had “become exhausted and suffocated.” What was left were “just occasional thin lines shining like the water remaining in ravines after a flood.”81 A year and a half later another picture of an ineffective Qtq appeared in the form of a cartoon depicting the organization as a sleeping man with his head on a pillow and lying by a lock that is holding closed a book called “Kazakh Language.” The key to the lock lies on top of the book, and sitting on top of it are three other figures reading another book with the words “English” and “money” in English, and “butter (maslo),” “cheese (syr),” “sausage (kolbasa),” and the first three letters of “patty (kotleta)” in Russian.82 Eventually, in about 2005, a new organization appeared, seemingly with much the same mission and outlook as Qtq. This new body, referred to as both Memlekettik til qozghalysy [State Language Movement] and Memlekettik qoghamdyq til qozghalysy [State Language Public Movement], has been led by a Kazakh writer and politician Mukhtar Shakhanov; Shakhanov has been openly critical of Qtq for its meager achievements. Shakhanov and his organization have also repeatedly challenged President Nazarbayev’s moderation in language policy and, more broadly, nation building.83 By the time of meetings I held in Kazakhstan in 2010 with representatives of state and public institutions involved in language policy, many could not even recall an organization named Memlekettik til

80

Kazakhstanskaia pravda, 28 Nov. 1992, p. 1. “Qaydasyngdar, ‘Qazaq tili’ qoghamdary?” Ana tili, 17 Feb. 2000, p. 7. 82 Turkistan, 14 July 2001, p. 5. 83 Indeed, at the end of 2009, Shakhanov even threatened a hunger strike to protest the draft of a new “doctrine of national unity” (Serik Maleev, “Aktsenty rasstavleny,” Liter 16 Dec. 2009, accessed 6 May 2010 at http://www.liter.kz/index.php?option=com _content&task=view&id=872&Itemid=2). For an early reference to Shakhanov’s movement see Asylkhan Barlybayuly “Ordaly oylaryn bolisti,” Dala men qala, 21 Oct. 2005, accessed at http://dmk.kz/arhiv/?act=readarticle&id=141. 81

156

william fierman

Figurе 1. Cartoon from the Kazakh newspaper Turkistan (14 July 2001, p. 5): mocks the (sleeping) Kazakh Language Society (Qazaq tili qoghamy) for its inactivity in promoting the Kazakh language and the Society’s insensitivity to the danger of popular material interests favoring Russian and English.

qozghalysy; all, though, were familiar with Shakhanov’s vocal demand about raising the status of Kazakh language in high prestige domains as quickly as possible. Qtq was still functioning in 2010, though it seemed a mere shadow of what it was in the early years. The contours of the history of Qazaq tili qoghamy and Memlekettik til lie beyond the scope of the present article. For our purposes here, however, it is important to note that even though they are not state bodies, the articulated programs of Qtq and Memlekettik til have focused on promoting Kazakh in “high” and “mid-level” domains of Fishman’s GIDS scale, introducing or expanding the use of Kazakh in such areas as diplomacy, the national legislature, formal education at all levels, and the mass media. As in the case of the Kazakhstan government RLS efforts, however, these organizations have failed to address in direct fashion the need to reinforce Kazakh in the home. Thus, the government as well as Qtq and Memlekettik til appear to be working in a way that Fishman predicts carries a high risk of failure.

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

157

Despite these “mistakes,” the prospects for Kazakh in the coming decades seem fairly promising. We will return briefly to consider the reasons for this at the end of this chapter. Before doing so, it is worth reviewing the status of Kazakh in a number of domains in urban areas of Kazakhstan since the turn of the twenty-first century. 5.6. Moderate RLS Success 5.6.1. Workplace Even today, in most major cities of Kazakhstan, Russian is still used more than Kazakh. Some communications, including a large share of those with the government in the capital, continue in Russian. However, for a number of reasons discussed below, Kazakh’s status in the workplace has improved. The effect of legislation promoting Kazakh has been most pronounced in government offices. In late 2001 or early 2002, Qyzylorda Oblast (where Kazakhs comprise about 95 percent of the population) became the first oblast officially to shift all office work (deloproizvodstvo) to Kazakh. By January 2005, at least four other oblasts had officially followed Qyzylorda’s lead, 84 and by spring 2006 it was announced that the shift to the state language had taken place in seven oblasts.85 In addition, the shift to Kazakh reportedly was also proceeding in the first years of the decade in certain demographically Kazakh raions (districts) of oblasts which overall did not have a Kazakh majority.86 As of 2005, plans called for all government internal office work throughout the country to be shifted to Kazakh by 2008.87 This goal, however, was not met. Even in areas of the country where the shift has supposedly taken place, work has often proceeded in Russian: Kazakh translations are frequently produced just in order to demonstrate that goals to 84 The other four oblasts are Atyrau, Manghystau, Zhambyl, and South Kazakhstan (Oralbay Abdikarimov “Memlekettik til zhyly bolmaydy, biraq . . .,” Ana tili, 27 Jan. 2005). 85 “Iazykovaia politika Kazakhstana budet priobretat’ vse bol’shuiu politicheskuiu i ideologicheskuiu znachimost’—E. Ertysbayev,” Kazinform, 12 May 2006, accessed 7 May 2010 through http://www.zakon.kz/engine/print.php?newsid=71915. 86 For an example of such raions in Pavlodar Oblast see Nurlybek Samatuly, “Memlekettik tilding taghdyry memlekettik qyzmetkerlerding qolynda,” Ana tili, 10 Oct. 2002. 87 Oralbay Abdikarimov “Memlekettik til zhyly bolmaydy, biraq . . .,” Ana tili, 27 Jan. 2005.

158

william fierman

produce a certain percentage of documents in Kazakh have been met.88 Commenting on this situation in 2010, Kazakhstan’s General Procurator M.A. Zhorgenbayev noted that many institutions which had “on paper” shifted to the state language were relying heavily on translators.89 According to Zhorgenbayev, measures undertaken by government bodies to expand the use of Kazakh had been “limited to organizing short-term courses to teach it and providing reports that allocated budgets had been used.” In fact, he said, Russian was used for 75 percent of office work and correspondence [deloproizvodstvo i dokumentooborot].90 Despite this and other evidence of continued use of Russian, it is clear that Kazakh is used much more in government offices today than fifteen years ago, let alone in the Brezhnev era of the 1970s and early 1980s.91 5.6.2. Schools Kazakh today is in a much stronger position in urban education than twenty years ago. In primary and secondary education, the share of ethnic Kazakh urban pupils who attend Kazakh-medium classes reached somewhere between 70 and 75 percent in the first years of the new millenium.92 In Almaty, the former capital, the share increased from a few percent in the 1980s to over 60 percent. Many of the children in Almaty’s Kazakh-medium classes are offspring of Kazakh parents who

88

Commenting on this situation, Director of Kazakhstan’s Institute of Linguistics Sheruwbay Qurmanbayuly stated that if government organizations actually conducted their meetings in Kazakh, then the situation with written documentation would be entirely different (“Til tughyrdan tuspesin!” Ayqyn, 22 Jan. 2010, accessed 4 May 2010 at http://www.aikyn.kz/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=959). 89 “Mazhlis: ‘Gosudarstvennyi iazyk—faktor edinstva strany’—konferentsiia,” Zakon.kz, 19 March 2010, accessed 7 May 2010 through http://www.zakon.kz/166739mazhilis-gosudarstvennyjj-jazyk-faktor.html. 90 Changing targets for the shift to Kazakh have reflected the growing official recognition that the shift to Kazakh in government institutions has been lagging. The “strategic plan” of the Ministry of Culture and Information (which oversees the Language Committee) changed the target for shift of office work for 2009 downward from 70 percent to 60 percent (“Minkul’tury Kazakhstana peresmotrelo sroki perevoda deloproizvodstva na gosiazyk,” Novosti-Kazakhstan, 3 Sep. 2009, accessed 7 May 2010 through http://www.zakon.kz/146385-minkultury-kazakhstana-peresmotrelo.html). 91 For a report on problems of introducing Kazakh even in an oblast with a large Kazakh population (South Kazakhstan) see Shadiyar Moldabek, “Til uyrenuwdi balabaqshadan bastauw kerek,” Zaman Qazaqstan, 30 July 2004. 92 For information on how this was calculated, see William Fierman (2006), “Language and Education . . .” pp. 106-7.

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

159

have moved to the city from rural areas in search of employment.93 A very small share of non-Kazakhs, probably about two percent, also studies in the Kazakh medium.94 Overall, the share of school pupils (all ethnic groups and urban and rural combined) in Kazakh-medium classes is approximately 60 percent.95 The share of students enrolled in Kazakh-medium higher education has also increased. In 1989–1990, such students accounted for only 17.9 percent of the total.96 By 2001–2002, however, the share had grown to 31.5 percent, and by 2005–2006 to 42.6 percent.97 Many anecdotal reports suggest that the quality of higher education in Kazakhstan’s universities has declined substantially since independence; among other reasons this is due to the low salary levels in higher education, and the opening of new (often private) universities with very poor facilities and underqualified teaching staff. For such reasons, the increase in share of students in Kazakh-medium groups undoubtedly includes many students receiving an inferior “higher” education. Although the situation is changing, Kazakh-language textbooks and supplementary texts for universities are often still not available, or else they are poor translations. For this reason, many Kazakh-medium university students

93 See A. Zabirova, “Sel’sko-gorodskaia i mezhgorodskaia migratsiia v sovremennom Kazakhstane: motivy i rezul’taty,” Tsentral’naia Aziia i Kavkaz, no. 3, 2004. 94 Among the two percent there is only a miniscule number of Russians. The majority are likely members of other Turkic-speaking nationalities (Natalia Vdovina, “Russkii iazyk v Kazakhstane,” Informatsionno-analiticheskii portal ‘Evraziiskii dom,’ 2008, accessed 7 May 2008 through http://www.perspektivy.info/oykumena/krug /russkiy_yazik_v_kazakhstane.htm). 95 The figure of 60 percent was cited by President Nazarbayev in a speech given October 2008 (“Vystuplenie Prezidenta RK N.A. Nazarbayeva na XIV sessii Assamblei naroda Kazakhstana,” Zakon.kz, 24 Oct. 2008, accessed 7 May 2010 through http:// www.zakon.kz/124086-vystuplenie-prezidenta-rk-n.a.html). The proposed draft of the Doctrine of National Unity published at the end of 2009 cited a figure of 61 percent (“Proekt Doktriny natsional’nogo edinstva Kazakhstana,” 26 Oct. 2009, accessed 7 May 2010 through http://www.vkgu.kz/ru/project-doktrini-nacionalnogo-edinstva .htm). A much higher figure of 67 percent, cited shortly thereafter by Minister of Culture and Information M. Qul-Mukhammed, is almost certainly in error (“Til tughyrdan tuspesin,” Ayqyn, 22 Jan. 2010 accessed 7 May 2010 through http://www.aikyn .kz/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=959). For urban and rural ethnic Kazakh children combined, Khasanuly (2007) says the share studying in the Kazakh medium was 80.4 percent. 96 Khasanuly (1992), p. 185. 97 Vdovina (2008). According to Vdovina, the share in individual years for Kazakhmedium was 2001–2002: 31.5 percent; 2002–2003: 36.2 percent; 2003–2004: 38.6 percent; 2004–2005: 40.0 percent; and 2005–2006: 42.6 percent.

160

william fierman

are still obliged to use a substantial share of Russian-language materials during their studies. Those seeking to raise the status of Kazakh have supported the introduction of an obligatory test on the Kazakh language as part of the ENT exam given to those graduating from Russian-medium secondary schools.98 When initially proposed, it appeared that a poor score on the Kazakh test of the ENT would seriously damage chances of those with poor Kazakh skills wanting to enter higher education. However, it was decided that, for the time being at least, the score on the Kazakh test would be given a very low weight in determining entrance to higher education.99 5.6.3. Media Today the law requires all electronic media channels and stations to broadcast at least half of their transmissions in Kazakh. This law was not universally observed,100 especially in the early years. To achieve “compliance,” many broadcasters ignored the spirit of the law by scheduling Kazakh-language programs at inconvenient times such as the middle of the night; today the selection of Kazakh television and radio programs is much richer than five years ago, not to mention two decades ago. They include game shows, talk shows devoted to controversial topics, and music clips reminiscent of those on American MTV. Some programs, such as news broadcasts, are transmitted in much the same form in Russian and Kazakh. Others, however, are unique in one language or the other. Today, films broadcast in Russian are frequently accompanied by Kazakh subtitles. The mere presence of programs does not, of course, mean that a particular share of the potential audience is viewing or listening to them. Indeed, as in the Soviet era, many programs from Moscow

98 “ENT” is the abbreviation of the Russian name for the exam Edinoe natsional’noe testirovanie (Common national testing) that most university-bound students take at the end of their secondary education. 99 For reference to plans to introduce the exam, see “MON RK planiruet vvesti vtoroi etap ENT dlia abiturientov vuzov, pretenduiushchikh na granty i kredity,” Kazakhstan segodnia, 23 Nov. 2007, accessed 8 May 2010 through www.zakon.kz /engine/print.php?newsid=98343. For information that in 2010 the score on the Kazakh language exam for graduates of Russian-medium schools is not to be counted see “ENT-2010: Kak eto budet?” accessed 8 May 2010 at http://www.uchi.kz/ent/ent2010-kak-eto-budet. 100 A 2002 analysis of ten TV channels available in Almaty showed that just over 30 percent of their total broadcast time was in Kazakh (Zhas Alash, 4 April 2002).

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

161

continue to enjoy great popularity among audiences in Kazakhstan. In addition, many cable channels with programs from around the world are also available. Nevertheless, anecdotal evidence suggests that a substantial share of the Kazakh audience, including the urban audience, at least occasionally tunes in to Kazakh-language electronic media.101 Furthermore, Kazakh has an important niche in new forms of mass media—the internet and music on CD’s and DVD’s. The number of Kazakh-language websites is still quite modest, even compared to the number of Russian-language sites based in Kazakhstan. The number, however, is growing. In addition, CDs and DVDs with Kazakh-language entertainment are available and seem to enjoy large youth audiences. 5.6.4. Half Empty? Half full? It is also worth noting here that Kazakh language is much more prominent today in symbolic roles and positions than fifteen years ago. Many public signs in cities of Kazakhstan (including many which previously were only in Russian) are now both in Kazakh and Russian, or sometimes in Kazakh only; moreover, when the signs are in two languages, the Kazakh text is often larger or more visible than the one in Russian. On ceremonial occasions, Kazakh public orators often make a point of delivering at least part of their addresses in Kazakh. Popular attitudes are also changing: dozens of my own personal informal conversations with urban Kazakhs over the last five years have reflected a growing realization among them that there are advantages to acquiring skills in “their own” language. Interlocutors have pointed to such benefits as enhanced employment prospects as well as the shield from being shamed for not knowing “their own” language. Despite these successes, it is evident that RLS success still lags far behind legislation, not to mention behind aspirations among members of Qtq and Memlekettik til. As in so many other cases around the world, implementation has been something of an “Achilles’ heel.” Space precludes a detailed exploration here of the many obstacles that have confounded Kazakh RLS. Among the most important factors,

101 See Amirkhan Mendeke, “Bul qay arna? Bul—‘Elarna’,” Qazaq adebiyeti, 15 March 2002; Esengul Kopqyzy, “Ala-qula arnalar,” Turkistan, 14 Feb. 2002; and “50 × 50 degendi kim shygharghan,” Zhas Alash, 4 April 2002. As Mendeke notes, a state-funded national TV channel was launched with programming entirely in Kazakh. However, today that station’s programming is partially in Russian.

162

william fierman

however, has been opposition from both non-Kazakhs and Kazakhs who have weak or no Kazakh language skills. Many of these same individuals, especially those who work in job with administrative responsibility, have been able (or obliged) to impede promotion of Kazakh when they have faced choices of either advancing RLS or supporting projects perceived as serving more urgent economic or social priorities. In education, for example, even ardent Kazakh RLS adherents must occasionally face choices such as whether to prioritize repair of a school’s roof or invest in better Kazakh language instruction; and the head of city administration must make such decisions as whether to support the hiring of additional staff to enforce regulations on Kazakhlanguage public signage or use those same funds to increase the size of the local police force. Implementation of language policy in Kazakhstan today is also impeded by corruption, a widespread lack of respect for the law and officials, and a long tradition of conducting campaigns whose success is judged more by fulfillment of formal criteria than by effect. Due to these and other such problems, if we liken the status of Kazakh language in urban areas of Kazakhstan to a glass of water, it certainly contains more liquid than in the mid- or late-1980s; however, it is still only approaching half full.102 Although some of the most ardent promoters of the Kazakh language may dream of a Kazakhstan where Russian is just one among many foreign languages, there is a broad realization that a large share of urban Kazakhs will continue to need Russian for many domains, 102 Authors of a number of articles published since the 1990s have attempted to measure attitudes towards Kazakh and use of the language. One study, by M.M. Arenov and S.K. Kalmykov, for example, reports that 76.38 percent of Kazakhs surveyed claimed to watch Kazakh-language television programs, and that 95.5 percent of Kazakhs “can express themselves in Kazakh” (“The Present Language Situation in Kazakhstan,” Russian Social Science Review, May/June, 1997, vol. 38, no. 3. [Accessed through EBSCO HOST, 3 April 2005]). A survey of students conducted in 1999 by William Rivers asked students “Na kakom iazyke Vy by khoteli vospityvat’ detei v budushchem? [In what language would you like to raise children in the future?]” (“Attitudes towards Incipient Mankurtism among Kazakhstani College Students,” Language Policy, No. 1, 2003, pp. 159-74). Rivers’ data provides a wide variety of responses, including “Kazakh,” Russian,” “Several,” “English and Russian,” “English and Kazakh,” and “Kazakh, Russian, and English.” It is very difficult to determine the significance of the data reported by these researchers. In the case of Rivers, for example, interpretation of results would require an attempt to ascertain what respondents understood by the term “vospitanie” (upbringing). A much better sense of the Kazakh’s rising status is provided by I.S. Savin, “Realizatsiia i rezul’taty kul’turnoiazykovoi i obrazovatel’noi politiki v Kazakhstane v 1990-e gg.,” accessed 20 Feb. 2005 at http://chimkent.by.ru/Savin2.html.

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

163

and that, despite modest progress in non-Russians’ learning Kazakh, most will not soon be able to use the language outside of a very limited set of domains and registers. Thus, the diglossia of Kazakhstan’s cities will likely continue to be one of asymmetric bilingualism. This seems implicit, for example, in demands occasionally voiced by Kazakh RLS proponents that a Kazakh language fluency requirement be enforced for ethnic Kazakhs who seek certain jobs, but not for members of other nationalities. 5.7. Conclusion Nothing in the Kazakh experience suggests that Fishman is incorrect in his warning that concentration on the higher level stages of RLS is a risky form of treatment. Among other reasons, this is because such treatment is inefficient and expensive. This holds especially in cases when the dominant language, like Russian, has well-developed registers in many areas relevant to modern life, including science, technology, and law. In these circumstances, the cost of RLS “therapy” may bankrupt the patient and supporters (i.e., the promoters of RLS) before the remedy produces positive results. Thus, because there are no “public hospitals” to heal ailing languages, a “high end approach” can be fatal. Attempts to displace a dominant language in rapidly developing fields of science and technology is also difficult because creation, standardization, and dissemination of specialized vocabulary all take time; meanwhile, new concepts are being developed and thus require additional new terms.103 Although the general rule about the inadvisability of “high end approach” for RLS is valid, failure to abide by this rule seems unlikely to have the dire consequences for Kazakh that it might in many other cases. Thus, in many ways Kazakh is a lucky patient.

103 For examples of attempts to promote Kazakh in such fields as finance, medicine, and the military, see respectively “Finansisty ob”ediniaiut usiliia dlia unifikatsii terminologii na kazakhskom iazyke,” Panorama, 26 March 2004; Sandughash Serikqali, “Qazaq tili—meditsinada,” Zhas Alash, 24 Dec. 1998 and “Darigerler qazaqshagha bet bursyn,” Egemen Qazaqstan, 5 May 1998; and Gh. Qozhaghulova, “Qazaqtildi sardarlar sap tuzeuwde,” Ana tili, 30 Aug. 2001. For arguments on the need to introduce Kazakh broadly into technical and scientific higher education, see Ghabdolla Nisanbay, “Tilge ghylymi-tekhnikalyq oris qazhet,” Egemen Qazaqstan, 20 Aug., 1998. On the creation of a 31-volume set of terminology dictionaries see Aqseleuw Seydimbek and Sherali Bilal, “Rukhani qazina,” Egemen Qazaqstan, 2 June 2001.

164

william fierman

One of the most important and fairly rare conditions affecting Kazakh RLS is that Kazakh has an independent state, Kazakhstan, officially supporting it. In today’s world, few language communities undertaking RLS outside of the former USSR can even dream of having “their own” state.104 The importance of the state is especially great in Kazakhstan because, despite privatization, the state still owns, controls, and/or has a very strong influence on key branches of the economy. Kazakh is also fortunate in that, as a result of the Soviet experience, there is a widespread popular belief that ethnic group, territory, and language should coincide. This can be traced to the Soviet Communist Party’s definition of a nation (in turn rooted in Stalin’s theses of 1913), which posited that each nation is united by a common language, territory, economic life, and psychological make-up as manifest in a community of culture.105 This belief, which has survived Soviet power, has left a widespread mindset that the Kazakhs are a unique people with a distinct culture and language, and that the particular culture and language are somehow linked to their particular territory, i.e., Kazakhstan. This principle also seems to support some Kazakhs’ hopes that eventually Kazakh monoglossia will prevail in their country. Another important factor that favors Kazakh’s revival is a powerful national leader supporting the language, though not to an extreme. Nursultan Nazarbayev has been very mindful of domestic and international concerns that would make a “tilt” too far in favor of Kazakh language unwise, especially at the expense of Russian. Nevertheless, Nazarbayev has stressed Kazakh language as a symbol binding the community of all Kazakhs (and eventually all of Kazakhstan); he has also supported expansion of its domains of use. Unlike his immediate predecessor, Kolbin, who was reluctant to support Kazakh as the republic’s only state language, Nazarbayev immediately embraced this

104

The fact that this is so rare is noted by Fishman (2001b) “Why Is It So Hard . . .”

p. 19. 105

Stalin’s treatise “Marksizm i natsional’nyi vopros” (Marxism and the National Question) originally appeared in Prosveshchenie Nos. 3-5 (March–May), 1913; among other editions, it was translated and reprinted in the sixteen volume collection Works (Moscow: Foreign Languages Publishing House), vol. 2, pp. 300-81, now available at http://www.marx2mao.com/Stalin/MNQ12.html.

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

165

position upon his accession as party first secretary; it was only a few months later that LL89 was adopted.106 Nazarbayev’s support for Kazakh has likely been critical in countering bureaucratic resistance to measures related to RLS. Many of Kazakhstan’s politicians and much of Kazakhstan’s administrative apparatus—including many Kazakhs—are products of Russianmedium education, and prefer to use Russian in their work. As Fishman points out, most threatened languages have “no outside support of any operational significance to fall back upon.”107 This is not the case for Kazakh. Nazarbayev’s public support makes it harder for bureaucrats to resist, even those who are lukewarm or oppose the shift from Russian to Kazakh. Despite calls from some quarters in his country for a federal system, Nazarbayev has insisted that Kazakhstan maintain a unitary political structure. On balance, this also has probably played a positive role in promoting RLS, at least in areas of Kazakhstan with large Slavic majorities. Though RLS progress has been slow in these areas, the unitary state structure has likely facilitated measures that have benefited Kazakh. Combined with the above, the demographic dynamic in Kazakhstan is a very powerful force supporting Kazakh RLS. Both natural and mechanical demographic factors have been working to its advantage: the absolute number and share of Kazakhs is rising, while the number of Slavs and Germans is declining. Besides low birthrates, this is due to emigration: over the period 1993–1997 alone the number of Slavs and Germans leaving Kazakhstan exceeded those arriving by about 1.5 million. In the same period, there was a slight positive balance of Kazakh immigration into Kazakhstan: arriving Kazakhs exceeded those who leaving by 46,700.108 Immigration to Kazakhstan by Kazakhs in subsequent years increased: according to President Nazarbayev, in the decade leading up to 2009, a total of 650,000 Kazakhs arrived in their

106 As suggested above, however, this was not merely Nazarbayev’s doing, but represented a trend sweeping the entire USSR. 107 Fishman (2001b) “Why Is It so Hard . . .” p. 13. 108 Azimbay Ghali, “Orysym—Qara ormanym,” Zhas Alash, 11 March 2000, p. 2. The largest share of Kazakh immigrants has come from Mongolia and Uzbekistan (E. Iu. Sadovskaia, Migratisiia v Kazakhstane na rubezhe XXI veka: osnovnye tendentsii i perspektivy [Almaty: Ghalym, 2001], p. 109).

166

william fierman

“historical homeland,” i.e., Kazakhstan.109 Between 1999 and 2008, the Kazakh share of immigrants into the country jumped from 26.4 percent to 75.6 percent (whereas Russians declined from 48.6 percent to 13.5 percent); meanwhile, over the same period, the annual share of Kazakhs among all emigrants from the country remained low, between 4 and 7 percent.110 The increasing share of Kazakhs has also been a result of a substantially higher birth rate among Kazakhs than among Russians. In 1991, when Kazakhs comprised something over 40 percent of Kazakhstan’s total population, they accounted for 72.4 percent of the total natural population increase of 219,429. In 1993, they accounted for 88.2 percent of the natural increase of 145,371. By contrast, Russians, whose total number was not yet much less than Kazakhs’, accounted for only 12 percent of the increase in 1991, and already in 1993 experienced negative natural growth.111 These data, of course, reflect not only the high birthrate among Kazakhs, but the higher death rate associated with the higher average age of the Russian population. For births alone, Kazakhs accounted for over 65 percent of the total in 1999; by 2008 the share had climbed to over 71 percent.112 Migration within Kazakhstan, especially Kazakhs’ movement from rural to urban areas, has also affected language in urban areas, where Kazakh became so weak in the late Soviet period. Although some cities that witnessed emigration of Slavs and Germans simply withered because they lacked employment opportunities, as the data cited above indicate, others attracted Kazakh migrants who, arriving from rural

109 “Vystuplenie Prezidenta Respubliki Kazakhstan na otkrytii III sessii Parlamenta RK chetvertogo sozyva 1 sentiabria 2009,” accessed at http://www.parlam.kz/DocSp Prezident.aspx?lan=ru-RU&idpr=23. According to Nazarbayev, a total of over one million Kazakhs had arrived since independence. 110 “Nedavnie izmeneniia tendentsii vneshnei migratsii Kazakhstana: Vzaimosviaz’ s urovnem obrazovaniia, vozrastom i etnicheskoi prinadlezhnosti migrantov,” Obzory literatuy i statistiki (Rakurs Center for Economic Analysis), no. 6.1, pp. 4-5, accessed at http://www.cear.kz/cont/RAKURS_Literature%20&%20Statistical%20Surveys_6.1 _rus.pdf. 111 Azimbay Ghali, “Qazaq qaytse kobeydi. Nemese optimistik demografiia,” Egemen Qazaqstan, 1 Jan. 2000, p. 3. 112 Over this same period, the Russian share of births dropped from about 18 percent to under 14 percent. This means that whereas in 1999 there were approximately 3.6 Kazakhs born in Kazakhstan for every Russian, by 2008 the number was almost 5.2 (Qazaqstannyng demografiyalyq zhylnamalyghy, 2008 [Qazaqstan Respublikasy Statistika agenttigi, 2009]), p. 178.

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

167

areas or other smaller towns, replaced the former Russian, Ukrainian, and German inhabitants. The demographic trends since independence described above have significantly altered the urban linguistic environment in which RLS efforts have taken place. Most new arrivals in cities are bilingual in that they have enough Russian skills to get along; moreover, many also undoubtedly still see that knowledge of Russian increases their chances of upward mobility. Nevertheless, their presence in the cities has halted the slide towards Russian monoglossia that was characteristic of the 1970s and early 1980s. This growing share of Kazakh speakers in the cities and towns has raised the likelihood that non-Kazakh speakers or those with very limited skills will encounter the Kazakh language in their workplace or at public or private gatherings. Whereas in the 1970s or 1980s, bilingual urban Kazakh-Russian-speakers would generally have refrained from using Kazakh at work meetings where not everyone knew the language, today it is common for Kazakhs to speak Kazakh in this kind of setting. In the new environment it may be prudent for non-kazakhophones, especially Kazakhs, to learn at least enough Kazakh to understand what others are saying. These same demographic processes have greatly increased the ranks of urban Kazakhs who support measures that relate to Kazakh language revival. In particular, they have produced a larger cohort of individuals in urban areas who are likely to seek linguistic accommodation for Kazakh-dominant speakers in public services, government offices, and employment. One other factor relevant to Kazakh’s recovery is that even in the 1970s and 1980s (despite claims of the Kazakh language being extremely “sick” or about to die), the situation was not really so dire. After all, even in the late 1980s, two-thirds of all ethnic Kazakhs in primary and secondary schools were enrolled in classes with Kazakh as the medium of instruction, albeit mostly in rural areas. Moreover, Kazakh had enjoyed considerable language corpus development during the Soviet era, when scholars created many works (including dictionaries, grammars, and a twelve-volume encyclopedia). Beyond this, despite their limited audience in urban areas, Kazakh-language mass media and cultural services did exist in the Soviet period. Given the financial costs of RLS, it is also important that Kazakh is spoken in a territory with substantial natural wealth, especially energy reserves that attract foreign investment. Kazakhstan’s economy in the early 1990s was in shambles, but since then the economy has recovered

168

william fierman

substantially. The improvement, combined with close links between Kazakhstan’s government and the private sector, has made more resources available for investment in RLS. Foreign corporations have been sensitive to hints that they should assist development of Kazakh language and culture: the Korean firm LG Electronics supported the creation of a Kazakh-language karaoke CD.113 Parallel influence affects domestic enterprises, even small ones: a Kazakhstan citizen who owns a firm may not profit in any direct way by replacing a monolingual Russian signboard in front of his store with one in Kazakh and Russian (let alone in Kazakh only). However, he is likely to be cooperative if he is approached by a local political official who is seeking help to deflect criticism that he (the official ) is doing too little to support Kazakh in his district or town. In Kazakhstan, the good will thus cultivated may be a critical factor determining the enterprise’s success. Even though today’s trends are no guarantee of future development, Kazakhstan’s wealth and economic growth may also contribute to efforts to expand use of Kazakh language by lessening financial constraints that might “pinch” RLS efforts. Fishman is certainly correct in his assessment that focus on high-function RLS efforts is inefficient. Nevertheless, the impact of these inefficiencies may be less serious in a richer community. Moreover, even with its inefficiencies, RLS “high-function” activity has contributed to reversing language shift. After all, the importance of the strong base in the family and neighborhood does not mean that the influence between “low” and “high” domains is unidirectional. That is, it does not mean that reversal of language shift in the domains outside the home (those that have been supported by the Kazakhstan government, Qtq, or Memlekettik til) cannot support RLS in the home. Indeed, the earlier shift, i.e., Kazakh’s loss to Russian, seems typical in that the language of the home shifted as a result of educational, employment, cultural, and political opportunities outside the home. Kazakh-speaking parents often made conscious decisions to use Russian (even when poorly spoken) in the home because they saw greater opportunities for their children’s upward mobility if those children grew up speaking Russian instead of Kazakh. Today the situation has altered somewhat. Although the benefits of knowing Kazakh in

113 Gulzeynep Sadirqyzy, “Karaoke qazaqsha shyrqaydy,” Egemen Qazaqstan, 5 April 2003, p. 6.

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

169

Kazakhstan today are generally far less than were the benefits of knowing Russian in the Soviet days, it must be recognized that even limited improvement of Kazakh in the last two decades in public spheres and mass media have also reduced the steep incline of the road of Kazakh RLS in the urban home. The “bottom line,” then, on the Kazakh case seems to be that thanks to a rare and auspicious constellation of factors, RLS-ers could afford to be inefficient and wasteful in their treatment of the disease, but still contribute to restoring the “patient” to health. If Qtq efforts had focused on the “intimate community” stressed by Fishman, they would likely have been more productive in providing a base for future language development. A “low-function approach” would also have seemed less threatening to Kazakhstan’s non-Kazakh population as well as ethnic Kazakhs who did not know “their own” language. It is impossible to quantify the costs of the psychological discomfort among those who are “supposed to” know Kazakh simply because of the recorded ethnicity in their passports; however, these costs should not be ignored in a calculation of the effect of RLS on the population’s welfare. In any case, right now it is still too early to predict if there will be any longterm “disability” resulting from the fact that those attending to the Kazakh patient did not select the optimal course of treatment. In their volume on the language situation and language planning in Kazakhstan, Eleonora Suleimenova and Zhuldyz Smagulova stress that government efforts to change language environments affect them, but are not always decisive. They observe that over time people in Kazakhstan have come to recognize that “. . . no changes in the functions of languages are [merely] decreed, nor do they occur on their own and in periods that are strictly indicated;” rather, the inertia of linguistic processes is an objective factor that must be considered in language planning.114 In conclusion, it is worth noting that the achievements of Kazakh RLS to date and prospects for the future appear more significant if seen in the context of today’s globalized world, where increasing numbers of people regularly communicate with others from different cultures. In this environment it seems inconceivable that Kazakh will acquire all the functions that are currently fulfilled by Russian. More likely than

114 E.D. Suleimenova and Zh. S. Smagulova, Iazokovaia situatsiia i iazykovoe planirovanie v Kazakhstane (Almaty: Qazaq universiteti, 2005).

170

william fierman

this is a different scenario, in which Russian remains an important language of wider communication (LWC) for Kazakhs while another LWC, probably English, also becomes more important.115 This has been happening all over the globe, including, for example, in the formerly socialist countries of Eastern Europe and the Baltic region, and in Georgia, and Azerbaijan.116 In this context, however, Kazakh seems likely to acquire a stronger position in such domains as education and other public services, the urban workplace (especially in government and niches where concentrations of new migrants from rural areas find employment), and mass media. Yet, as Fishman suggests, implementation of policies to effect such expansion will be smoother and more efficient if conducted with due attention to language in the home and recognition that in today’s world the costs of pursuing a “sky’s the limit” strategy will be very high. References Abdikarimov, Oralbay. “Memlekettik til zhyly bolmaydy, biraq . . .,” Ana tili, 27 Jan. 2005. Agenstvo Respubliki Kazakhstan po statistike, Raspredelenie shkol i chislennosti uchashchikhsia v RK na nachalo 2000/2001 uchebnogo goda. Agenstvo Respubliki Kazakhstan po statistike, Raspredelenie shkol i chislennosti uchashchikhsia v RK na nachalo 2001/2002 uchebnogo goda. Agenstvo Respubliki Kazakhstan po statistike, Raspredelenie shkol i chislennosti uchashchikhsia v RK na nachalo 2002/2003 uchebnogo goda. Agenstvo Respubliki Kazakhstan po statistike, Raspredelenie shkol i chislennosti uchashchikhsia v RK na nachalo 2003/2004 uchebnogo goda. Agenstvo Respubliki Kazakhstan po statistike, Raspredelenie shkol i chislennosti uchashchikhsia v RK na nachalo 2004/2005 uchebnogo goda. Ana tili, 27 Jan. 2005.

115 In April 2005 a specialist at the Kazakhstan Ministry of Education and Science told me that the number of students in the country’s primary and secondary schools studying English was rising rapidly, but that the number of students studying all other foreign languages was dropping. (Since Russian is an obligatory subject in the curriculum of all RK primary and secondary schools, it was clear that she did not include Russian among the “foreign languages.”) For a Kazakh sociolinguist’s view that English should be a major component in Kazakhstan’s language planning see Khasanuly (2007), pp. 358-9. Kazakhstan’s draft language program for the period 2011–2020 gives special attention to English, calling for 20 percent of the population to have a mastery of English by the end of that period (“Proekt Gosudarstvennoi programmy funkstionirovaniia i razvitiia iazykov na 2011–2020 gody,” Kazinform, 29 July 2010 accessed through http://www.inform.kz/rus/article/2290539). 116 In these latter countries Russian is receding much further than is likely in Kazakhstan in the foreseeable future.

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

171

Ana tili, 6 Feb. 1992. Arenov, M.M. and S.K. Kalmykov. (1997). “The Present Language Situation in Kazakhstan,” Russian Social Science Review, May/June, 1997, vol. 38, no. 3. Barlybayuly, Asylkhan. (2005) “Ordaly oylaryn bolisti,” Dala men qala, 21 Oct. 2005, accessed at http://dmk.kz/arhiv/?act=readarticle&id=141. Bartens, Angela. (2001), “Review of Can Languages Be Saved?” The Linguist List, http:// cf.linguistlist.org/cfdocs/new-website/LL-WorkingDirs/pubs/reviews/get-review .cfm?SubID=3834. Comrie, Bernard. (1981). The Languages of the Soviet Union. NY: Cambridge U. Press. “Darigerler qazaqshagha bet bursyn,” Egemen Qazaqstan, 5 May 1998. Dave, Bhavna. (2007). Kazakhstan—Ethnicity, Language And Power. Routledge, 2007. ——. (2003). “A Shrinking Reach of the State? Language Policy and Implementation in Kazakhstan,” in Pauline Jones Luong (ed.), The Transformation of Central Asia: States and Society from Soviet Rule to Independence. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, pp. 129-58. ——. (1996). “National Revival in Kazakhstan: Language Shift and Identity Change,” Post-Soviet Affairs, vol. 12, no. 1, pp. 51-72. ——. (1996). “Politics of Language Revival: National Identity and State Building in Kazakhstan,” unpublished PhD dissertation, Syracuse University. DeLorme, R. Stuart. (1999). “Mother Tongue, Mother’s Touch: Kazakhstan Government and School Construction of Identity and Language Planning Metaphors,” unpublished PhD dissertation, University of Pennsylvania, 1999, available http:// repository.upenn.edu/dissertations/AAI9926116/. Errington, Joseph. (2003). “Getting Language Rights: The Rhetorics of Language Endangerment and Lost,” American Anthropologist, vol. 105, no. 4, pp. 723-32. Ferguson, Charles. (1959). “Diglossia,” Word, vol. XV, no. 2, pp. 325-40. Fierman, U. (2005). “Elity i alfavity. Povorot iazykovogo sdviga v Kazakhstane,” Etnograficheskoe obozrenie no. 6, pp. 49-71. Fierman, William. (1985). “Language Development in Soviet Uzbekistan,” in Isabelle Kreindler (ed.) Sociolinguistic Perspectives on Soviet National Languages. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. ——. (1991). Language Planning and National Development. The Uzbek Experience. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. ——. (1998). “Language and Identity in Kazakhstan: Formulations in Policy Documents, 1987–1997,” Communist and Post-Communist Studies, vol. 30, no. 2, pp. 171-86. ——. (2005). “Kazakh Language and Prospects for its Role in Kazakh ‘Groupness’,”Ab Imperio no. 2, pp. 393-423. ——. (2006). “Language and Education in Post-Soviet Kazakhstan: Kazakh-Medium Instruction in Urban Schools,” The Russian Review, vol. 65, no. 1, pp. 98-116. “Finansisty ob”ediniaiut usiliia dlia unifikatsii terminologii na kazakhskom iazyke,” Panorama, 26 March, 2004. Fishman, Joshua A. (1967). “Bilingualism With and Without Diglossia; Diglossia with and without Bilingualism,” Journal of Social Issues, vol. 23, no. 2, pp. 29-38. ——. (1971). Jyotirindra Das Gupta, Björn H. Jernudd, and Joan Rubin, “Research Outline for Comparative Studies of Language Planning,” in Joan Rubin and Björn H. Jernudd (eds.), Can Language Be Planned? Honolulu: University of Hawaii. ——. (1991). Reversing Language Shift: Theoretical and Empirical Foundations of Assistance to Threatened Languages. Philadelphia: Multilingual Matters. ——. (2001a). “From Theory to Practice (and Vice Versa): Review, Reconsideration and Reiteration,” in Joshua A. Fishman (ed.), Can Threatened Languages Be Saved? ——. (2001b). “Why Is It So Hard to Save a Threatened Language?” In Joshua A. Fishman (ed.), Can Threatened Languages Be Saved?

172

william fierman

——. (2001c). Can Threatened Languages Be Saved? Reversing Language Shift, Revisited: A 21st Century Perspective. Buffalo: Multilingual Matters. “Gamlet” Qazaq sovet entsiklopediyasy, vol. 3 [Almaty, 1973], pp. 145-6. Ghali, Azimbay. “Orysym—Qara ormanym,” Zhas Alash, 11 March 2000. ——. “Qazaq qaytse kobeydi. Nemese optimistik demografiia,” Egemen Qazaqstan, 1 Jan. 2000. “Gosudarstvennaia programma funktsionirovaniia i razvitiia iazykov (1998),” in Iazykovaia politika . . . pp. 161-75. “Gosudarstvennaia programma funktsionirovaniia i razvitiia iazykov na 2001–2010 gody,” Kazakhstanskaia pravda, 17 Feb. 2001. Gosudarstvennyi Komitet po Statistike SSSR [GosKomStat] Itogi Vsesoiuznoi perepisi naseleniia 1989 goda. tom VII, chast’ 1 Moscow, 1991–1993. Guboglo, Mikhail. (1990–1991). “Demography and Language in the Capitals of the Union Republics,” Journal of Nationalities, vol. 1, no. 4. “Iazykovaia politika Kazakhstana budet priobretat’ vse bol’shuiu politicheskuiu i ideologicheskuiu znachimost’—E. Ertysbayev,” Kazinform, 12 May 2006, accessed 7 May 2010 through http://www.zakon.kz/engine/print.php?newsid=71915. Kazakhstanskaia pravda, 28 Nov. 1992. Kazakhstanskaia pravda, 4 June 1989. Khasanuly, Bakhytzhan. (2007). Ana tili—ata mura. Almaty: Zhazuwshi, 1992. ——. Iazyki narodov Kazakhstana. Ot molchaniia k strategii razvitiia. Almaty: Arda. “Kontseptsiia rasshireniia sfery funktsionirovaniia gosudarstvennogo iazyka, povysheniia ego konkurentosposobnosti na 2007–2010 gody,” 21 Nov. 2007, accessed 7 May 2010 through http://www.zakon.kz/98548-postanovlenie-pravitelstvarespubliki.html. Kopqyzy, Esengul. (2002). “Ala-qula arnalar,” Turkistan, 14 Feb. 2002. Kreindler, Isabelle. (1990). “Forging a Soviet People: Ethnolinguistics in Central Asia,” in William Fierman (ed.) Soviet Central Asia: The Failed Transformation. Boulder, CO: Westview. Kuzhabekova, Aliya S. (2003). “Past, Present and Future of Language Policy in Kazakhstan,” (Unpublished MA thesis, University of North Dakota), available at http://www.und.edu/dept/linguistics/theses/2003Kuzhabekova.PDF. Landau, Jacob M. and Barbara Kellner-Heinkele. (2001). Politics of Language in the Ex-Soviet Muslim States. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan. Leninshil zhas, 24 Oct. 1989. Lewis, E. Glyn. (1972). Multilingualism in the Soviet Union. The Hague: Mouton. Maleev, Serik. “Aktsenty rasstavleny,” Liter, 16 Dec. 2009, accessed 6 May 2010 at http:// www.liter.kz/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=872&Itemid=2). Martin, Terry. (2001). The Affirmative Action Empire. Nations and Nationalism in the Soviet Union, 1923–1939. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. “Mazhlis: ‘Gosudarstvennyi iazyk—faktor edinstva strany’—konferentsiia” Zakon .kz, 19 March 2010, accessed 7 May 2010 through http://www.zakon.kz/166739mazhilis-gosudarstvennyjj-jazyk-faktor.html. “Men ‘Til turaly’ zhanga zang zhobasyn zhazyp shyqtym,” Ayqyn, 8 June 2007. Mendeke, Amirkhan. “Bul qay arna? Bul—‘Elarna’,” Qazaq adebiyeti, 15 March 2002. Mihalisko, Kathleen. (1989). “Language Revival: What Would It Require in Belorussia?” Report on the USSR, vol. 1, no. 11 (March 17). “Minkul’tury Kazakhstana peresmotrelo sroki perevoda deloproizvodstva na gosiazyk” Novosti-Kazakhstan, 3 Sep. 2009, accessed 7 May 2010 through http://www.zakon .kz/146385-minkultury-kazakhstana-peresmotrelo.html. Moldabek, Shadiyar. “Til uyrenuwdi balabaqshadan bastauw kerek,” Zaman Qazaqstan, 30 July 2004. Moldashuly, Sadybek. “Tort ayaghyn teng basqan,” Zhas Alash, 14 Jan. 1993. Momyshuly, Baqytzhan. “Zhetimning qaytyp oraluwy,” Leninshil zhas, 15 Sep. 1989.

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

173

“MON RK planiruet vvesti vtoroi etap ENT dlia abiturientov vuzov, pretenduiushchikh na granty i kredity,” Kazakhstan segodnia, 23 Nov. 2007, accessed 8 May 2010 through www.zakon.kz/engine/print.php?newsid=98343. “ENT-2010: Kak eto budet?” accessed 8 May 2010 at http://www.uchi.kz/ent/ent-2010-kak-eto-budet. Muqayev, Baqqozha. “Arymyz da abyroyymyz da,” Leninshil zhas, 1 March 1990. Myngzhasarqyzy, Dinara. “Til turaly baghdarlamagha talap kushti,” Turkistan, 21 Aug. 2010 accessed through http://www.kazakh-tili.ru/?show=news&id=1547. “Nedavnie izmeneniia tendentsii vneshnei migratsii Kazakhstana: Vzaimosviaz’ s urovnem obrazovaniia, vozrastom i etnicheskoi prinadlezhnosti migrantov,” Obzory literatuy i statistiki (Rakurs Center for Economic Analysis), no. 6.1, pp. 4-5, accessed at http://www.cear.kz/cont/RAKURS_Literature%20&%20Statistical %20Surveys_6.1_rus.pdf. Nisanbay, Ghabdolla. “Tilge ghylymi-tekhnikalyq oris qazhet,” Egemen Qazaqstan, 20 Aug., 1998. “O nekotorykh izmeneniiakh i dopolneniiakh k Gosudarstvennoi programme razvitiia kazakhskogo iazyka i drugikh natsional’nykh iazykov v Kazakhskoi SSR na period do 2000 goda,” Kazakhstanskaia pravda, 29 Sep. 1990. “O poriadke vvedeniia v deistvie Zakona Kazakhskoi SSR ‘O iazykakh v Kazakhskoi SSR,’ ” Kazakhstanskaia pravda, 28 Sep. 1989. Olcott, Martha Brill. (1985). “The Politics of Language Reform in Kazakhstan,” in Sociolinguistic Perspectives on Soviet National Languages: Their Past, Present and Future. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Ongharsynova, Fariza. “Qaytip khalyq bop qalamyz?” Ana tili, 13 June 1991. “Podvedeny itogi Natsional’noi perepisi naseleniia Respubliki Kazakhstan 2009 goda,” 4 Feb. 2010, accessed 3 May 2010 at http://www.stat.kz/p_perepis/Pages/n_04_02_10 .aspx. “Postanovlenie Tsentral’nogo Komiteta Kompartii Kazakhstana i Soveta Ministrov KazSSR No. 98 ‘Ob uluchshenii izucheniia kazakhskogo iazyka v respublike,” reprinted in Suleimenova (ed.) 1997, Iazykovaia politika . . . pp. 251-5. “Proekt Doktriny natsional’nogo edinstva Kazakhstana,” 26 Oct. 2009, accessed 7 May 2010 through http://www.vkgu.kz/ru/project-doktrini-nacionalnogo-edinstva .htm). Qaydarov, A. “Memlekettik til zhane oghan baylanysty maseleler turaly oy-tolghauw,” Sotsialistik Qazaqstan, 3 Aug. 1989. “Qaydasyngdar, ‘Qazaq tili’ qoghamdary?” Ana tili, 17 Feb. 2000. Qazaq adebiyeti, 23 March 1990. Qazaqstan Respublika Statistika Agenttigi. (2010), Seriya 15. Demografiya. 2010 zhyl basyna Qazaqstan Respublikasy khalqynyng oblystar, qalalar zhane auwdandar boyynsha, zhynysy men zhekelegen zhas quramy, zhekelegen etnostary boyynsha sany. Qazaqstan Respublikasy Statistika agenttigi. (2009). Qazaqstannyng demografiyalyq zhylnamalyghy, 2008. Qazaqstan Respublikasyndaghy til sayasaty. Quzhattar zhinaghy—Iazykovaia politika v Respublike Kazakhstan. Sbornik dokumentov. (1999). Astana: Elorda. Qazaqstan Respublikasynyng statistika zhonindegi agenttigi. (2000). Qazaqstan Respublikasy khalqynyng ulttyq quramy (Tom 1). Almaty. Qazaqstan Respublikasynyng statistika zhonindegi agenttigi. (2005). Qazaqstannyng demografiyalyq zhylnamalyghy 2004. Almaty. “Qiya betkeydegi kosh,” Ana tili, 16 Aug. 1990. Qozhaghulova, Gh. “Qazaqtildi sardalar sap tuzeuwde,” Ana tili, 30 Aug. 2001. Rivers, William. (2003). “Attitudes towards Incipient Mankurtism among Kazakhstani College Students,” Language Policy, no. 1, pp. 159-74. Sadirqyzy, Gulzeynep. “Karaoke qazaqsha shyrqaydy,” Egemen Qazaqstan, 5 April 03, p. 6.

174

william fierman

Sadovskaia, E. Iu. (2001). Migratisiia v Kazakhstane na rubezhe XXI veka: osnovnye tendentsii i perspektivy. Almaty: Ghalym. Saghymbekov, Ramazan. (1979). Almatydan soylep turmyz. Almaty: Qazaqstan baspasy. Samatuly, Nurlybek. “Memlekettik tilding taghdyry memlekettik qyzmetkerlerding qolynda,” Ana tili, 10 Oct. 2002. Sattibayuly, Kosemali. “Sana tazarmay, salt zhaqsarmaydy,” Zhas Alash, 4 March 1993. Savin, I.S. “Realizatsiia i rezul’taty kul’turno-iazykovoi i obrazovatel’noi politiki v Kazakhstane v 1990-e gg.,” accessed 20 Feb. 2005 at http://chimkent.by.ru/Savin2 .html. Schiffman, Harold. “Bibliography on Language Planning and Implementation” http:// ccat.sas.upenn.edu/plc/clpp/bibliogs/implementbiblio.html, accessed 12 March 2006. ——. (2004). “Review of Michael E. Brown and Šumit Ganguly (eds.) Fighting Words: Language Policy and Ethnic Relations in Asia,” Journal of Asian Studies, vol. 63, no. 4. Serikqalil, Serikqali. “Qazaq tili—meditsinada,” Zhas Alash, 24 Dec. 1998. Seydimbek, Aqseleuw and Sherali Bilal. “Rukhani qazina,” Egemen Qazaqstan, 2 June 2001. Shyrtanov, Izbasar. “Otkenge orel, qalghangha salauat,” Ana tili, 11 July 1991. Simon, Gerhard. (1991). Nationalism and Policy Toward the Nationalities of the Soviet Union. Boulder, CO: Westview. Smailov, Kamal. “Radi spravedlivosti,” Kazakhstanskaia Pravda, 8 Feb. 1992. Solchanyk, Roman. (1987). “Catastrophic Language Situation in Major Ukrainian Cities,” Radio Liberty Research Bulletin, RL 286/87, July 15. “Sostoialos’ zasedanie rabochei gruppy po razrabotke proekta Zakona RK ‘O gosudarstvennom iazyke Respubliki Kazakhstan,” Kazinform, 19 Aug. 2007, accessed 7 May 2010 through http://www.zakon.kz/92297-sostojalos-zasedanie-rabochejjgruppy.html. Stalin, I.V. “Marksizm i natsional’nyi vopros” (Marxism and the National Question), Prosveshchenie Nos. 3-5 (March-May), 1913 in English translation at Works (Moscow: Foreign Languages Publishing House), vol. 2, pp. 300-81, http://www .marx2mao.com/Stalin/MNQ12.html. Suleimenova, E.D. (ed.). (1997). Iazykovaia politika v Kazakhstane (1921–1990 gody). Sbornik dokumentov. Almaty: Qazaq Universiteti. ——, and Zh. S. Smagulova. (2005). Iazokovaia situatsiia i iazykovoe planirovanie v Kazakhstane. Almaty: Qazaq universiteti. Suny, Ronald Grigor. (1988). The Making of the Georgian Nation. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press. Szoporluk, Roman. (1986). “The Ukraine and Russian,” in Robert Conquest (ed.), The Last Empire: Nationality and the Soviet Future. Stanford, CA: Hoover. “Til tughyrdan tuspesin!” Ayqyn 22 Jan. 2010, accessed 4 May 2010 at http://www .aikyn.kz/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=959). Tsentral’noe statisticheskoe upravlenie pri Sovete ministrov SSSR, (1962). Itogi Vsesoiuznoi perepisi naseleniia 1959 goda. Moscow: Gosstatizdat. Turkistan, 14 July 2001. “Ukaz Prezidenta Respubliki Kazakhstan ‘O vnesenii dopolnenii v Ukaz Prezidenta Respubliki Kazakhstan ot 7 fevralia 2001 goda No. 550,’” 30 May 2006 accessed 7 May 2009 through http://www.zakon.kz/engine/print.php?newsid=72542. “V etom godu nuzhno razrabotat’ novuiu dolgosrochnuiu Gosudarstvennuiu programmu funktskonirovaniia i razvitiia iazykov- M. Kul-Mukhamemedov,” Kazinform, 24 Jan. 2009, accessed through http://www.zakon.kz/engine/print.php?newsid=131636. “V gosprogramme po razvitiiu iazykov do 2020 g. prioritetnym dolzhno stat’ razvitie gosudarstvennogo iazyka,” Kazinform, 25 Jan. 2010, accessed 7 May 2010 through http://www.zakon.kz/engine/print.php?newsid=160512.

reversing language shift in kazakhstan

175

Vdovina, Natalia. (2008). “Russkii iazyk v Kazakhstane,” Informatsionno-analiticheskii portal ‘Evraziiskii dom,’ ” accessed 7 May 2008 through http://www.perspektivy .info/oykumena/krug/russkiy_yazik_v_kazakhstane.htm. “Vystuplenie Prezidenta RK N.A. Nazarbayeva na XIV sessii Assamblei naroda Kazakhstana,” Zakon.kz, 24 Oct. 2008, accessed 7 May 2010 through http://www .zakon.kz/124086-vystuplenie-prezidenta-rk-n.a.html). “Vystuplenie Prezidenta Respubliki Kazakhstan na otkrytii III sessii Parlamenta RK chetvertogo sozyva 1 sentiabria 2009,” accessed at http://www.parlam.kz/DocSp Prezident.aspx?lan=ru-RU&idpr=23. Wurm, Stefan. (1954). Turkic Peoples of the USSR: Their Historical Background, their Language, and the Development of Soviet Linguistic Policy. Oxford: Soviet Affairs Study Group. Zabirova, A. (2004). “Sel’sko-gorodskaia i mezhgorodskaia migratsiia v sovremennom Kazakhstane: motivy i rezul’taty,” Tsentral’naia Aziia i Kavkaz, no. 3. Zhas Alash, 4 April 2002. Zimanov, S.Z. “Perestroika i ravnopravie iazykov,” Kazakhstanskaia Pravda 23 Mar. 1989.

CHAPTER SIX

LANGUAGE POLICY AND LANGUAGE DEVELOPMENT IN MULTILINGUAL UZBEKISTAN Birgit Schlyter The balance between linguistic considerations and the political force of a language reform drive varies with the language policy on which the reform work is based and the relationship of this language policy to the general political program of the body authorizing it. The aim of the present report is to investigate the language situation in Uzbekistan against a background of previous standardizations and language reforms, with special attention being paid to recent political developments in the country.1 This investigation will help us understand to what extent current Uzbek language policy has been integrated with the ideology of national independence verbalized by the incumbent regime. One aspect to be considered in this connection is how present Uzbek language reform has been conditioned by former Soviet language policies. The Soviet agenda was part of a comprehensive centrist political modernization program which brought about, among other things, language standardization—regardless of social levels—for the purpose of mass communication and the accessibility of intellectual capacity and labor supply. What will happen to language development

1 Studies and investigations for this work were conducted within the framework of a research program funded by Stockholm University with an additional grant from the The Swedish Foundation for International Cooperation in Research and Higher Education, during a stay from September to December 2005 as Visiting Professor at the Institute of History of the Academy of Sciences of the Republic of Uzbekistan, Tashkent. Scholars at academic institutes in Tashkent and Nukus to be acknowledged for much help during my work on this report are Ne’mat Maxqamov, Ergash Umarov, Baxtiyor Karimov, Aziz Dzhuraev, Shahnoza Madaeva, Mirzohid Raximov, Sarygul Baxadirova, Tabysqan Qanaatov, Makset Karlybaev, and Zliha Tileuova. I would also like to thank Dilorom Alimova, Director, and Valeriy Khan, Deputy Director, of the aforementioned Institute of History for inviting me and providing me with a stimulating environment for scholarly meetings and discussions at their Institute. An earlier version of this paper was published as a research report at Stockholm University (Schlyter 2007).

language policy and development in uzbekistan

177

in a country like Uzbekistan, with its language policy intimately tied to centrist state ideology and with a Soviet-bred middle-aged generation still in charge of politics and administration, when this country tries to become a member of a modern-world market economy challenged by globalization? How will this development, with perhaps still more standardization and homogenization, affect non-standard environments, such as minority language communities, bilingual speech contexts, etc.? After about twenty years of independence, Uzbek maintains its position as both state and national language. In this period, the share of ethnic Uzbeks of the country’s total population has increased from 73 to 80 percent, and nearly 80 percent of Uzbek public schools are exclusively Uzbek-medium schools. At the same time, present-day Uzbekistan is as much a multilingual society as it has ever been since the establishment of the Republic in the 1920s, and Russian is a strong and competitive partner at the state level. In previous research I have referred to the notion of language policy as “that which an authority, for example, the government of a country, both allows and stipulates as far as language practice is concerned,”2 acknowledging at the same time the fact that language planning according to a given language policy and its implementation, i.e. language reform,3 are dependent on a whole range of sociolinguistic and non-linguistic factors.4 One such factor, and a most crucial one, is manifested by the attitudes shown by the members of a society 2

Schlyter 1998, p. 144. The following definition was provided in Schlyter 1998 (pp. 144f.) for a distinction between language policy and language planning, which have often been used synonymously in the linguistic literature, and in order to distinguish both of these two notions from that of language reform: “A concrete manifestation of language policy is ‘language planning’ that involves decisions on what measures are to be taken and their implementation. Together, language policy and language planning constitute the main promotive stages of ‘language reform’ and they are one of the forces that [. . .] spark off changes in language practice and possibly also changes in linguistic structures.” For further discussions of issues and notions central to theories of language policy and language planning, see, e.g., Appel and Muysken 1987, Schiffman 1996, Kaplan and Baldauf 1997, Ager 2001, Schlyter 1998, 2003, and Wright 2004. For comments on language policy and language planning at different societal levels, see e.g. Spolsky 2004, Shohamy 2006, and Baldauf 2008. 4 Dua 2008 (p. 191) writes: “The theoretical and historical perspectives in the evolution of language policy and language planning, and policy analysis and its evaluation in different sociolinguistic contexts have clearly brought out that language policy and planning are intricately involved with relations of power.” Cf. articles in Ricento 2006. 3

178

birgit schlyter

towards the language situation in that society. Language attitudes are formed and affected not only by personal experience but also by successes and failures in launching and making people pay attention to and possibly even accept the changes envisaged through the language policy conducted by the authorities.5 Alphabet and vocabulary reform, both of which will be the focus in some of the following sections, are two separate processes not necessarily initiated at the same point in time or operating at the same pace. On the other hand, they are the most concrete and visible manifestations of reform work carried out on the language corpus and thus immediate indicators of the language policy behind it. 6.1. The Standardization of Uzbek as a Soviet Language 6.1.1. Turki/Uzbek The term “Uzbek” for a particular language (not dialect) did not come into frequent use until the period leading up to the national delimitation of Turkestan and the establishment of the Republic of Uzbekistan in 1924. Until then there had been no real uniformity as to the naming of that language variety which would later be permanently referred to as Uzbek.6 A term appearing in publications as late as the early 1920s was Turk tili/Turki, which was then often used to refer to an envisaged common literary language for the Turkic-speaking peoples of Central Asia.7 However, this denomination has mostly been associated with what has generally been called Chaghatay8 in Western linguistics— a Middle Turkic, now extinct, literary language of the south-eastern

5 This was referred to as “language-reform awareness” in Schlyter 1998 (pp. 161ff.). 6 The etymology of this word has not been determined with absolute certainty. However, it has often been traced back to the name of a leader of the Golden Horde in the 14th century, O‘zbek Khan, a greatgrandson of Chingis Khan, and interpreted as consisting of the two Turkic words o‘z, ‘free/independent’ (here spelt in accordance with the new Uzbek Latin alphabet adopted in 1995 (see below), where o‘ /ø/ may be pronounced as a rounded central-to-back mid vowel [ѳ~o]), and bek, ‘lord/leader’. 7 Borovkov 1940, pp. 6-24; cf. Fierman 1991, pp. 69-74. 8 This name originates from Chingis Khan’s second son. After the death of Chaghatay in 1241–1242, his name was used in expressions referring to the people in his former realm (Chaghatay ulus (‘nation’), Chaghatay el (‘people’), etc.) and eventually also the Turkic literary language of the Timurid Empire (Chaghatay tili (‘language’). Chaghatay lafẓï (‘word/language’), etc.); see Eckmann 1966.

language policy and development in uzbekistan

179

(Karluk) branch of Turkic languages, to which among others the modern literary Uzbek and Uighur languages belong. The term “Sart” is another name that was used in connection with early attempts at creating a literary norm corresponding to the Uzbek dialect spoken in Turkestan at that time.9 With the preparations for the national delimitation of Soviet Turkestan and the decision on names for the new republics, “Sart” was abolished for both people (Ru. sarty) and language (sartskiy/sartovskiy yazyk), while Chaghatay was renamed “Old Uzbek” in Soviet linguistics. The Middle Turkic Chaghatay language had been a well developed classical literary language, confined to a very small learned elite of Turkestanis, most of whom were bilingual in both Persian and Chaghatay and who had a traditional Islamic education. As reformist ideas started to disseminate in the region in the latter part of the 19th century, concern about the language situation focused on issues such as how to establish a literary tradition where the subject matter to be accounted for as well as the language in which this was to be expressed would be closer to the language used by ordinary people. This question was still at the forefront by the time of the October Revolution, after which the ideology and administration of the new Union made it imperative that information be made available to the great mass of people. In order to accomplish this, new scripts were needed for a large number of regional languages and illiteracy had to be eradicated. This was the point of departure for the Soviet language policy that was to be carried out during the following decades.10 Though a very small language in comparison to Russian, and a local language with no wide distribution at the state level, Uzbek was in fact the most numerous non-Slavic language in the Soviet Union and it

9 The name “sart” (Skr. sārtha, ‘caravan;’ cf. sārthavāha, ‘leader of a caravan’/‘traveling merchant’) was once the designation of a specific social class of sedentary urban people living and in many cases traveling for business in the southern parts of Turkestan. The Sarts spoke in dialects of either Iranian or Turkic origin or mixed Iranian-Turkic idioms. As a linguistic term, “Sart” was eventually used for late, strongly Iranicised Chaghatay and, finally, for the major Turkic dialect of the majority Uzbek population of Western Turkestan. A number of language manuals and grammars in Russian for the study of the “Sart” language were published around the turn of the century 1800/1900, whereas “Uzbek” was used less frequently for similar titles (one example is S.V. Lapin, Kamennyy russko-uzbekskiy slovar’, Samarkand 1895). 10 The most detailed account of Soviet language policy up to the time period when it was published is Lewis 1972. Recent updates of a more summarizing and evaluating character are among others Smith 1998 and Grenoble 2003.

180

birgit schlyter

remained a well consolidated literary language throughout the Soviet period. Its share of the Soviet all-union speech community was a little less than 4 percent. Already before the creation of the Central Asian republics, Uzbek had been given the status of native language in the Autonomous Soviet Socialist Republic of Turkestan, on equal terms with three other languages: Kazakh, Turkmen and Russian. Together with a still greater number of languages, it was promoted by the nativization (korenizatsiya) policy of the 1920s, which aimed at combating illiteracy and training local cadres in their native languages for service in the Soviet bureaucracy.11 After the establishment of the UzSSR in 1924, Uzbek was the native language of far more than 70 percent of the Republic’s population. 6.2. The Formation of Literary Uzbek The Arabic script that had been used for Chaghatay, as well as in early attempts at writing “Uzbek” literature, was revised on several occasions between the end of the 19th century and the early 1920s.12 A problem that was foregrounded as reformers started considering the representation of vowels was what dialect base should be chosen as standard. Furthermore, linguistically but also ideologically, this was a question of how important it was to retain the “Turkic” character of literary Uzbek. A typical Turkic language variety has a vowel system bifurcated into two subsets of front and back vowels, respectively, where the oppositional feature defining these subsets has no semantic significance in vowel-harmonic morphemes. Due to long-standing influence from non-Turkic, in particular Iranian languages, the pronunciation of vowels in a large number of Uzbek dialects has changed to such a degree that the front-back distinction has been blurred, as a further consequence of which vowel harmonic variation based on this feature has been distorted. Uzbek dialects in politically dominant urban environments, such as the Tashkent region, belonged to this group and were thus non-typical Turkic language varieties. Long and ardent debates were held about the choice of dialect for standard Uzbek. They were accompanied by another discussion concerning the very type of script to be used for Uzbek. Along with these debates and 11 12

Fierman 1991, Smith 1998, Schlyter 2004. Qari-Nijazij 1940, Ibragimov 1972, Fierman 1991.

language policy and development in uzbekistan

181

controversies, and before any decision had been taken, new schoolbooks were produced within the framework of all-union campaigns to combat illiteracy. For example, one of the most prominent representatives of the early 20th-century Turkestanian reform movement ( jadidlar, ‘the Jadids’), Abdurrauf Fitrat, was an active grammarian and published two important works in this field: Sarf (‘Morphology,’ 1925) and Nәhv (‘Syntax,’ 1930). In these works, the author was deeply concerned about the deterioration of the literary Turkic language of his day and the need for grammatical and orthographic norms. In his own theory of Turkic/Uzbek syntax he argued that the predicate be regarded as the primary node of the sentence structure.13 Fitrat and others also took an active part in discussions concerning a switch to a Latin alphabet for Uzbek. At the all-Turkic Congress in Baku in February–March 1926, a decision was taken on the Latinization of Turkic languages.14 The question of dialect base and the representation of vowels was as crucial in this context as it had been in connection with the revisions of Arabic characters. In the first phase of the Uzbek Latinization process at the end of the 1920s, vowel harmonic alteration was taken into consideration. That is, a typically Turkic dialect was chosen for the formation of standard Uzbek orthography, viz. Uzbek as it was spoken in the vicinity of the city of Türkistan, situated on the Syr Darya in presentday Kazakhstan, and all vowel signs proposed for the first Latinized Turkic alphabet were adopted.15 Revisions of this alphabet were carried out on various occasions later on in the 1930s. Most importantly, the number of vowel signs

13 Today Fitrat is remembered first and foremost through his literary works, but he is still considered by some Uzbek linguists to be the founder of Uzbek grammar; personal communication from Prof. Ergash Umarov, November 2005. 14 A report by Ashurali Zohiriy, one of the Uzbek delegates at the Congress, was reviewed by Madamin Ibrahimov in Farghona gazetasi (‘The Ferghana Gazette’, No. 384, 1 April 1926 (“Turkiston qurultoyi tŭghrisida ma”ruza” [A report concerning the Turkestanian Congress] available to the present author in Cyrillic script). For a comprehensive report on the Latinization of Turkic languages, see Baldauf 1993. 15 Peculiarities in this alphabet were the Cyrillic ь for /ï/, a back high unrounded vowel, ƣ for /ʁ/, a velar, fricative voiced consonant, and the use of в in large and small size (Bb) for capital B and non-capital b, respectively (this latter solution was probably chosen in order to avoid the risk of confusing lower case b with the aforementioned Cyrillic ь). The letter ş /∫/ was the same as in the Turkey Turkish new alphabet from 1928, whereas c /t∫/ and ç /ʤ/, confusingly enough, corresponded to Turkey Turkish ç and c, respectively. A Western grammar of Uzbek where this version of a Turkic Latin alphabet was employed is Gabain 1945.

182

birgit schlyter

was reduced16 and the script was adjusted to urban dialects in which the opposition between front and back vowels had been distorted.17 By this time, however, attempts at the centralization of language reforms and the Russification of Uzbek and other Union languages were already discernible. Not only were there great quantities of so-called Soviet-international and Russian terms entering the Uzbek language, but grammatical analysis, too, was to be carried out in compliance with Russian grammatical tradition. For example, a new schoolbook of Uzbek was published in 1939 with a preface explicitly stating that this work had been composed on the pattern of Russian grammar.18 As such it was in sharp contrast to the ideas that had been put forward by the Turkestanian intellectual Fitrat in 1930 (above). 6.3. Russification The nativization (korenizatsiya) policy launched in the first decade of Bolshevik rule had in actual fact been completely phased out as early as the middle of the 1930s, to the disadvantage of non-Russian indigenous populations as far as both professional careers and native languages were concerned. A few years later, in 1938, Russian was made an all-union compulsory school subject. These circumstances, together with the increasing quantity of Russian words in Uzbek, became convenient arguments for the advantage of yet another script change, this time from Latin to Cyrillic: Uzbek school children would henceforth have to learn just one, not two, alphabets for their obligatory bilingual curriculum and the spelling of most words entering Uzbek through Russian would not necessarily have to be altered. On 8 May 1940, a law was passed by the Supreme Soviet of the UzSSR stipulating that a new Cyrillic alphabet was to be in official use from 1 July of that year,

16 The three vowel letters ö /ø/, y /y/, ь /ï/ were removed from the alphabet and ä /æ/ was henceforth often replaced by a. 17 In a report in connection with the decision on the adoption of Cyrillic script for Uzbek, Qari-Nijazij 1940 (p. 14) commented that the 1929 Uzbek Latin alphabet had been the result of a bourgeoisie view of Uzbek not as a language in its own right but merely as one of a number of Turkic dialects, without any recognition of Uzbek as an independent literary language as it was used in leading industrial cities. Cf. Fierman 1991, pp. 129ff. 18 Grammatika uzbekskogo yazyka (Tashkent 1939), O. Usmanov and B. Avezov (eds.), quoted in Umarov 2002, pp. 304f.

language policy and development in uzbekistan

183

while a two-year transition period was envisioned for the change-over to the new script in all parts of the Republic. All letters from the Russian alphabet except щ and ы were included in the Uzbek Cyrillic alphabet. The two missing characters were not needed for Uzbek words, given the standard orthography of 1934, and whenever these two letters appeared in Russian loans, they were to be replaced by шч and и, respectively. Their exclusion was said to be due to a desire to avoid too great a number of letters in the new Uzbek alphabet, which had been provided with four extra characters (ў, қ, ғ, ҳ) not existing in the Russian alphabet. Given this argument, it is a mystery why the letter ц was retained, although this letter, too, appeared only in Russian words and could as easily have been replaced by a two-letter combination (тс), like шч. The Russian ‘hard sign’ (ъ) and ‘soft sign’ (ь), not needed for Uzbek words, were also retained. The former was finally, after a number of spelling reforms19 from 1956 onwards, employed not only in Russian words but also in Arabic words as a substitute for the original Arabic letters ʿayn and hamzah.20 The orthographic rules published during the next few decades dealt mostly with issues relating to the distinction between phonetic and phonological, or etymological spelling, and in the great majority of cases a phonological/etymological approach was chosen. On the other hand, there seems not to have been any definite decision on the choice between alternative shapes for certain morphemes, such as -di/-dir as a 3rd person singular ending after tensed verbs and -ki/-kim, an enclitic particle corresponding to the English conjunction ‘that’ or, occasionally, an English relative pronoun.21 In these two cases there was apparently a slow transition from a period when both alternatives were in use to some time after the middle of the 20th century, when the shorter variant of both pairs had been adopted as more or less the only option.

19 “Orfografiya qoidalariga kiritilgan ŭzgartishlar haqida,” in Qizil Ŭzbekiston (‘Red Uzbekistan’), no. 87, 12 April 1956, p. 3. 20 “Ŭzbek orfografiyasining asosiy qoidalari,” in Qizil Ŭzbekiston, no. 87, 12 April 1956, pp. 2-3. 21 It should be noted here that, whereas -di and -dir are one and the same ending with the shorter form occurring after the elision of the final consonant of the longer variant, the enclitics -ki and -kim have different sources; the former originates from Persian ke (relative pronoun and conjunction with a number of different meanings) and the latter from Turkic kim, an interrogative pronoun, ‘who.’

184

birgit schlyter

The linguistic Russification of native Uzbek speakers was accomplished through not only the lexical but also the phonetic, syntactic, and phraseological interference of Russian into urban and official Uzbek as well as through increased Russian language proficiency and usage among non-Russians in the Republic, including Uzbeks. During the first two decades of Soviet rule, the proportion of Russian words in Uzbek newspapers increased from 1-2 percent to 10-5 pecent, whereas Arabic and Persian words, including frequent and well assimilated ones, decreased from about 35 percent to 25 percent.22 The Russian loan words at this stage included both everyday-language terms ( gazeta, ‘newspaper,’ ostanovka, ‘stopping place’, pomidor, ‘tomato,’ etc.) and technical/political terms. Still greater proportions were eventually reached for certain types of text. Gradually, however, in particular with the promotion of Russian as a “second mother tongue” in the 1970s, the mastering and usage of Russian among Uzbek speakers grew into a more serious challenge to the autonomy of Uzbek than was the integration of Russian lexemes into the vocabulary of the language.23 The most aggravating drawback to the development of standard Uzbek, and what has caused the greatest concerns in the Uzbek language reform work since 1991, is the fact that the use of this language, as with most other non-Russian languages in the USSR, was heavily restricted in the fields of administration and science. In 1975, a resolution was issued prescribing that only dissertations and dissertation abstracts (avtoreferat) written in Russian could be accepted by the ‘Higher Certifying Commission at the Council of Ministers of the USSR’ (Ru. Vysshaya Attestantsionnaya Komissiya pri Sovete Ministrov SSSR), a Soviet state body operating from 1974 till 1991, assigning the degrees of Candidate of Science and Doctor of Science. This measure together with the practice of adopting Russian coinages for new concepts and inventions meant that Uzbek, like many other non-Russian languages in the Union, was held back as far as intellectual terminology formed on its own linguistic patterns was concerned. Russian 22

Qoriniyozov 1956 gives these values for contemporary Qizil Ŭzbekiston. See Schlyter 2004, pp. 823-6, for a comment on “The Aim of Soviet Language Policy: Bilingualism or Language Shift?” Cf. Grenoble 2003, who states that, especially in the Brezhnev era, there flourished much Soviet party rhetoric about “building communism and a common language” and “the creation of a united Soviet people” (ibid., p. 59). For Central Asia, however, the same author notes that, possibly due to Muslim traditions, “a Russian-based identity failed in the region” (ibid., p. 138). 23

language policy and development in uzbekistan

185

morpheme structures became extremely dominant first and foremost in the fields of science, but also to a high degree in most spheres of official and public activities. 6.4. Uzbek as State Language and the Ideology of National Independence From the very first years of self-governance and, finally, independence from the Soviet Union, the Uzbek language has been in a state of reform. Soon after the State Language Law of 1989,24 which primarily focused on status issues (concerning the function and actual use of the language), with merely general comments on corpus planning (concerning the structures and forms of the language), discussions started with regard to the reform of both script and vocabulary.25 6.4.1. Alphabet and Vocabulary Reform In 1993, the first law on a change-over to Latin script was passed by the National Assembly of the Republic.26 The commission appointed for the preparation of this law at first considered the option of introducing an alphabet as close as possible to the Uzbek Latin script practised in the 1930s.27 In the end, however, there appeared an alphabet that deviated not only from previous Uzbek alphabets but also from the all-Turkic Latin alphabet agreed upon by delegates from a majority of Turkic societies, among them Uzbekistan, at conferences held at various universities in Turkey in the 1990s.28 The 1993 Uzbek Latin alphabet simply meant a transliteration of Cyrillic characters into Latin ones. This alphabet was revised in 1995,

24 Ŭzbekiston Sovet Sotsialistik Respublikasining Qonuni: Ŭzbekiston SSRning davlat tili haqida (‘Law of the Soviet Socialist Republic of Uzbekistan: Concerning the State Language of the Uzbek SSR’). Tashkent 1989. 25 See Schlyter 1998 for a detailed report on Uzbek language debate in the years from 1989, when a number of drafts of the aforementioned State Language Law were launched before the final parliamentary decision, to 1997, when this report was completed and first published. 26 Ŭzbekiston Respublikasining Qonuni: Lotin yozuviga asoslangan ŭzbek alifbosini joriy etish tŭghrisida (‘Law of the Republic of Uzbekistan: Concerning the Introduction of an Uzbek Alphabet Based on the Latin Script’). Tashkent 1993. 27 Personal communication from Prof. Baxtiyor Karimov, who was a member of the commission, November 2005. 28 See Schlyter 1998, pp. 164-5, and Schlyter 2003, pp. 174-7.

186

birgit schlyter

to the effect that special letters created by means of diacritic signs added to basic letters (ş for /∫/, etc.) but normally not found on a standard Latin keyboard were changed into characters consisting of two standard Latin letters or one letter followed by a single quotation mark turned to the right.29 These complex characters (O‘o‘ /ø/,G‘g‘/ʁ/, Shsh /∫/, Chch /ʧ/, Ngng /ŋ/) were put at the end of the alphabet. One odd consequence of the 1995 revision is that the current Uzbek Latin alphabet has a digraph ch (instead of the 1993 ç corresponding to Cyrillic ч), however, no single c. Another peculiarity is that, in contrast to the right-facing apostrophes of the letters o‘ and g‘, there is a leftfacing apostrophe which is to be used for ʿayn and hamzah in words originating from Arabic. This type of apostrophe, which corresponds to ъ (the ‘hard sign’) of the former Uzbek Cyrillic alphabet and which was noted in the 1993 Uzbek Latin alphabet, though not in the 1995 one, is dropped in words where it would follow immediately after one of the former two letters (for example, мўъжиза, ‘miracle,’ should be rewritten as mo‘jiza). The first generation of school children to learn reading and writing in the new alphabet without previous training in the Cyrillic one were those starting school in the fall of 1996. These children are now teenagers, many of whom are cut off from the Soviet legacy of Uzbek literature in the Cyrillic script. Projects on transliterating Soviet Uzbek fiction to the new script have been started,30 at the same time as there are courses in Cyrillic script separate from Russian language teaching for primary and secondary school. For the rest of the Uzbek population the Latinization process has so far been very slow. Adult literature, including newspapers and periodicals, is still being printed almost exclusively in Cyrillic and older generations often complain about the difficulties in reading Latinized Uzbek. With the 1995 law on a revision of the Uzbek Latin alphabet, 29 O‘zbekiston Respublikasining Qonuni: O‘zbekiston Respublikasining “Lotin yozuviga asoslangan o‘zbek alifbosini joriy etish to‘g‘risida” gi Qonuniga o‘zgartishlar kiritish haqida (‘Law of the Republic of Uzbekistan: Concerning Changes to the Law on the “Introduction of an Uzbek Alphabet Based on the Latin Script” of the Republic of Uzbekistan’). Tashkent 1995. 30 For example, the Sharq (‘East’) Publishing House in Tashkent has introduced a series of Classics (Asr oshgan asarlar), where so far a small number of novels have appeared in the new Uzbek Latin alphabet, such as Kecha va kunduz (‘Night and Day,’ 2004) by Cho‘lpon, from 1936, originally printed in the Uzbek Latin alphabet of the 1930s and later in Cyrillic, and Yulduzli tunlar: Bobur (‘Stary Nights: Babur,’ 2004) by Pirimqul Qodirov from 1978.

language policy and development in uzbekistan

187

a gradual ten-year transition from Cyrillic to the new script had been envisaged. Through an additional law on 30 April 2004, this transitional period was extended till 2010. However, this deadline now seems to have been consigned to oblivion. As for the vocabulary of the Uzbek State Language, the first main official measure taken after the passage of the State Language Law in 1989 was the inauguration of a committee for research and reform work on terminology, generally referred to by the abbreviation Atamaqŭm.31 No great activity can be discerned in this field at present and public debates on lexical issues are not as frequent as they were during the first few years of independence. Guidelines from the mid1990s regarding the choice of new terms seem still to be in force (see below). The Atamaqŭm was dissolved in 2003. In its place, there is now a commission subordinated to the Senate of the bi-cameral Uzbek Parliament. From the year 2006 onwards, a new five-volume edition of the Uzbek-Uzbek O‘zbek tilining izohli lug‘ati (‘An Explanatory Dictionary of the Uzbek Language’) was to be published with a corpus of about 100,000 words. For this edition, five universities in different parts of the country have collected dialect material and, furthermore, Uzbek fiction published throughout the Soviet era has been processed for the selection of words and phrases.32 6.4.2. State Ideology Following independence in 1991, Uzbek played a significant symbolic role in the work of consolidating the new country as a state in its own right. Non-governmental political movements, e.g. Birlik (‘Unity’), and the Uzbek regime acted alike putting the language issue at the top of their agendas. Proclaimed the state language of Uzbekistan, Uzbek very soon turned into being a language also referred to as the “national” language of this country. The word milliy (Arabic), ‘national’, which in connection with the indigenous languages of Uzbekistan during the Soviet era was associated with ethnic differentiation (milliy tillar thus stood for ‘nationality languages’), has more and more become an 31 Ŭzbekiston Respublikasi vazirlar mahkamasi huzuridagi atamashunoslik qŭmitasi (‘The Lexical Research Committee at the Council of Ministers of the Republic of Uzbekistan’); cf. Schlyter 1998, p. 159. 32 Personal communication from Prof. Ne’mat Maxqamov, one of the linguists in charge of this project at the Institute of Language and Literature, Tashkent, December 2005. The previous 1981 edition of the dictionary consists of c. 60,000 entries.

188

birgit schlyter

epithet pertaining to the state of Uzbekistan as a whole. In the much engaged and lively Uzbek language debate of the 1990s, there appeared such expressions as milliy til, ‘national language,’ milliy alifbo, ‘national alphabet,’ and milliy talaffuz, ‘national pronunciation,’ meaning with regard to Uzbekistan the Uzbek state language, a unique Uzbek alphabet and the assimilation of foreign (mostly Russian) names and words in Uzbek, respectively.33 The status of Uzbek as a national symbol was reinforced by the measures taken by President Islam Karimov in order to launch an ‘ideology of national independence’ (milliy mustaqillik g‘oyasi), in slight contradiction to a statement in the 1992 Uzbek Constitution prohibiting the establishment of any state ideology.34 In one of his works (I.A. Karimov 2001), the Uzbek President states that, to this day, not a single nation caring for its future has ever lived without an ideology of its own. For the Uzbek nation he deems it necessary to formulate a new ideology not only for a complete liberation from old dogmas but also in order to fill the ideological vacuum resulting from this liberation and to accomplish an “ideological immunity,” thus protecting the nation against infringement by alien ideas. According to an earlier statement by Karimov, this ideology is to be based on “the centuriesold traditions, customs, language, and spirit of our people.”35 Despite the presence of a new non-socialist agenda for the resurrection of pre-Soviet indigenous life patterns, President Karimov’s formula bears great affinity to early Soviet views on nationhood and the role of traditional life, language and people’s mentality in the definition of this concept.36 The bond between language and nation is a theme dwelt upon as much in post-Soviet Uzbekistan as it was in the

33 See Schlyter 1998, pp. 169-71, on “Uzbek Language Policy and Nationhood.” In B. Karimov 2003, a work by an Uzbek scholar actively taking part in the current Uzbek language debate, sociopolitical and intellectual-spiritual development is being discussed against a background of “nation, man, and language,” where national language turns into a more or less inalienable component of the nation-state and becomes synonymous with “state language.” 34 Article no. 12. 35 Quoted in Abdullaev 2005, pp. 274f., from I.A. Karimov, Pravovaya garantiya nashego velikogo budushchego, Tashkent 1993, p. 13. 36 Cf. a statement by Stalin concerning the definition of ‘nation’ and ‘nationality’, quoted in English translation by Fierman 1991 (p. 70): “[a] historically evolved stable community of language, territory, economic life and psychological make-up . . .”; see also Smith 1998, p. 3.

language policy and development in uzbekistan

189

Soviet era, and current rhetoric on this topic builds on former Soviet patterns.37 The same Soviet-style methods are also used for launching the postSoviet Uzbek state ideology of national independence as a more or less undisputable mindset. The President’s works are obligatory reading in pre-graduate education as well as in graduate studies and postgraduate training. Old societal structures are being imposed, first and foremost of which are local communities of the mahalla type, where the wisdom of elders is praised and the inhabitants are expected to constitute a self-governing (o‘zini o‘zi boshqarish) neighborhood.38 6.5. Indecisiveness and Changing Language Attitudes The post-Soviet trend in domestic politics has had its effects on people’s linguistic behavior and attitudes towards language planning and language reform. Those who would like to resuscitate pre-Soviet vocabulary feel encouraged to do so under the prevailing circumstances. Consequently, a large number of early 20th-century lexemes, often of Arabic or Persian origin from the previous literary Turkic language Chaghatay, have found their way back into Uzbek language practice. In contrast to popular sentiments, however, Uzbek linguists and other officials in charge of Uzbek vocabulary reform have tried to take a much more moderate stance on this issue. The principles for the treatment of Russian loans have so far been most clearly elaborated in Hojiev 1996. This pamphlet is still valid and Uzbek linguists refer to it when consulted in this matter.39 According to the recommendations given, Russian words and expressions that have become frequent in spoken and written Uzbek should be retained as well as foreign (mostly Russian) words that are intelligible in international

37 For example, in a book on Til va el (‘Language and Nation’; Qodirov 2005). the former Soviet-Uzbek People’s Writer (xalq yozuvchisi) and scholar of Uzbek history, Pirimqul Qodirov (b. 1928) writes about the importance of the Timurid era for the development of literary Uzbek. A previous work on the same topic, Til va dil (‘Language and Soul’) was published by this author during the Soviet period. 38 See, e.g., Sievers 2002; cf. Schlyter 2005a, pp. 88f. The status of national language is discussed from the point of view of a specified set of linguistic, cultural, and political dimensions and with regard to the Central Asian state languages in Schlyter 2010 and Schlyter, forthcoming a. 39 The principles advocated by Hojiev were summarized in detail in Schlyter 1998, pp. 167-9.

190

birgit schlyter

circles. What was stressed in particular when this issue was discussed during my stay in Tashkent during the fall of 2005 was that scientific and technical notions should be maintained in an international shape or, for new coinages, given such a shape.40 The current situation as regards vocabulary issues is thus characterized by caution and moderation on the part of responsible language planners, perhaps with a certain amount of tolerance towards lexical creativeness among the general public. This could, however, be interpreted as indecisiveness as to the choice between, on the one hand, traditional, or archaic vocabulary, at times accomplished by adding new Turkic-language derivations, and, on the other hand, status-quo Russified and internationalizing vocabulary. In the absence of any definite norm, great variation may be found in public texts—scientific as well as other types of non-fiction texts. Russian loan words of a permitted international pattern may be used side-by-side with newly coined synonymous or nearly synonymous derivations from Turkic roots (e.g., provintsializm/chekkalilik < chekka, ‘border, edge,’ + -li (adj.) + -lik (nominal ), i.e. ‘marginality,’ unitar < Ru. unitarnyy/bo‘linmas < bo‘lin-, ‘be divided,’ + -mas (neg. ptcl ), i.e. ‘indivisible’) or archaic Chaghatay lexemes (for example, kommunikatsiya/aloqa < Arabic ‘connection,’ global < Ru. globalnyy/umumjahon = umum+jahon < Arabic ‘all’ + Persian ‘world’). The political reorientation in Uzbekistan after the Andijan events in May 2005 may in the long term have an effect on the language situation and language usage in the country—a development that shows the sensitivity, or even lability, of the issue. Uzbekistan’s strained relations with the US government after suspicion and accusations from both sides due to the inaccessibility of information and uncertainty about who and what instigated the demonstrations and military actions in Andijan led to a more or less complete break with the West for many years and a strong rapprochement with Russia. The status of Russian in Uzbekistan will be commented on in a later section. It may suffice

40 One argument articulated in the course of these discussions was that there is no “Uzbek” science, that all science is international and, consequently, that scientific terms should as much as possible be international. For language development and globalization in different parts of the world, including Central Asia, see Maurais and Morris 2003, and from less specified geographical but broader cultural perspectives, Coupland 2010.

language policy and development in uzbekistan

191

to note here that as a consequence of this political development, the reform work on Uzbek may become still more slow and hesitant. Even though language planners comment that the Latinization of Uzbek is an irrevocable process and that Russian now has to compete with English as the most appealing world language to younger generations, both common people and officials show more varied attitudes to the status of Uzbek as state language and the Uzbek language reform at large. For example, the Language Day on 21 October celebrating the adoption of the 1989 State Language Law was given much less attention in 2005 than in previous years. In the same period, Uzbek State Television, which is the medium where the most serious endeavors have been made so far to introduce the new Latin script for Uzbek, started showing more headlines and signs with Uzbek in Cyrillic letters. 6.6. Karakalpak 6.6.1. State Language The Turkic language of Karakalpak has the status of state language in accordance with the principle used in the region for determining state languages. That is to say that on the territory where Karakalpak is the titular language, it also enjoys the rank of state language. On the other hand, being part of Uzbekistan, the Karakalpak Republic shares the state name and, consequently, the Uzbek state language with the rest of the country. The Autonomous Republic of Karakalpakistan thus has two state languages, as is declared in the latest versions of the Constitution and the State Language Law of Karakalpakistan.41 About 95 percent of all Karakalpaks live in Uzbekistan, most of them in Karakalpakistan. However, they are a small minority constituting only two percent of Uzbekistan’s total population and less than 40 percent of the inhabitants of Karakalpakistan.

41 Qaraqalpaqstan Respublikasynyng Konstitutsiyasy (‘The Constitution of the Republic of Karakalpakistan’), 9 April 1993, Paragraph 4; “Ma’mleketlik til haqqynda” (‘On [the Issue of ] State Language’), a resolution passed by the Karakalpak Parliament on 18 September 1996; cf. Schlyter 2005a. The Constitution of Uzbekistan has a special chapter (XVII) on Karakalpakistan, however, without any mention of Karakalpak or any second state language. It is stated, though, that Karakalpakistan has its own constitution.

192

birgit schlyter

Like Uzbek and many other Central Asian languages, Karakalpak has a long tradition of oral literature.42 The language received a script of its own at a rather late date. The first Karakalpak alphabet was created in 1924 from Arabic characters. The Karakalpak Latin alphabet, which was introduced in 1928 and used in parallel with the Arabic one, was revised twice—in 1932, when the Arabic alphabet was finally abolished, and then in 1938. Since 1940 the Cyrillic script has been in use, with one major revision towards the end of the 1950s.43 This alphabet is to be replaced by a new Karakalpak Latin alphabet (see below). Karakalpak appears to have a secure status in the Autonomous Republic as the first language, and the most frequently used language, in daily conversation among ethnic Karakalpaks. It furthermore seems to have maintained its position at higher levels of education. There are around 250 schools in Uzbekistan with Karakalpak as the only language of instruction. All of these, except for a few in the Province of Navoi, are found in Karakalpakistan. The number of Karakalpak schools in this Republic slightly exceeds that of Uzbek schools. Their share of the total number of schools in Karakalpakistan is 33 percent and 29 percent, respectively. About 25 percent of the schools in Karakalpakistan are bilingual or multilingual schools.44 Other regional languages taught or used as media of instruction are Turkmen, Kazakh and Russian, for which there are also teachers’ training programs at the university level. The language used in dissertation abstracts (avtoreferat) varies between Karakalpak, Russian and Uzbek, depending on the discipline. Summaries accompanying such abstracts are supposed to be written in one of the other two languages and in English. 6.6.2. Karakalpak Language Policy Although Karakalpak maintains its position as an official language and one of two state languages in the Republic of Karakalpakistan, there need not be any doubt as to the requirement that Karakalpak language reform should follow the same course and the same pace as the Uzbek language reform delineated in Tashkent. This course of development contrasts with earlier efforts made by the Karakalpak authorities in

42 43 44

See, e.g., Kamalov et al. 1994. Nazyrov 1972. Chernyavskaya 2005.

language policy and development in uzbekistan

193

order to take a stronger stance on autonomy, or even independence— politically as well as linguistically. On 1 December 1989, before the dissolution of the Soviet Union and after the passing of state language laws in the other Central Asian union republics except Turkmenistan, the Karakalpak Supreme Soviet passed a law in Karakalpak and Russian proclaiming Karakalpak the one and only state language of Karakalpakistan and claiming the right for the Republic to manage by itself all linguistic matters on its own territory.45 The following year, in 1990, the Karakalpak administration made an unsuccessful attempt at declaring Karakalpakistan an independent state. The first Karakalpak Latin alphabet from February 1994 was moulded on the pattern of the aforementioned common Latin alphabet launched for Turkic languages (see the sentence ended by footnote 28 above) and thus independent of the Uzbek one adopted half a year earlier. From 1995, however, starting with the revisions of the alphabets, it has become more and more obvious that Karakalpak language reform will be synchronized with Uzbek language reform.46 The two Latin alphabets of Uzbek and Karakalpak have been revised according to the same principles, and the deadline (2010), now forgotten, for their final adoption and the abolition of the Cyrillic script was the same. In addition to this it could also be noted that, with the decline of Russian as an academic language, it is Uzbek rather than Karakalpak that has been promoted as a suitable language for scientific works. Since 2005, PhD candidates in disciplines where Russian has held a strong position (Archaeology, Agronomy, Chemistry, Biology, etc.) have been urged to start using Uzbek for their dissertation abstracts.

45 Qaraqalpaqstan ASSRynyng mәmleketlik tili haqqynda: Qaraqalpaqstan Avtonomiyaly Sovet Sotsialistik Republikasynyng nyzamy (‘On the State Language of the Karakalpak ASSR: Law of the Autonomous Soviet Socialistic Republic of Karakalpakistan’), 1990, Nukus: Qaraqalpaqstan. 46 Due to the different phonological systems of Uzbek and Karakalpak, their 1995 alphabets differ on a number of points. In addition to a few letters (a’, u’, w) not found in Uzbek, Karakalpak has letter signs for both palatal “i” (İi) and velar “i” (Iı) in the same fashion as Turkey Turkish does. The 1995 Karakalpak alphabet thus contains two letter signs that do not appear on a standard Latin keyboard. For / ŋ / the same alphabet employs, not the digraph ng like Uzbek, but n’, which is placed after non-nasal n, and not at the end of the alphabet, as is the case in both of the 1993/1995 Uzbek alphabets. In contrast to Uzbek, Karakalpak apparently does not make any functional distinction between right- and left-facing apostrophes. For further comments on Karakalpak and other minority languages in Uzbekistan, see Schlyter 2005a.

194

birgit schlyter

Karakalpak and Uzbek are mutually intelligible but belong to different branches of the Turkic language family, the former being a North-Western, Kypchak language and very close to Kazakh, the latter a South-Eastern, Karluk language. Phrase and sentence structures as well as morpheme structures being quite uniform across this language family, the main differences between Karakalpak and Uzbek are found in the phonology and morphophonemics of the two languages. Given that the two languages developed in partially distinct culturalhistorical contexts, it is but natural to find certain lexical differences between them, too. In the Uzbek State Language Law of 1989, the Karakalpak Autonomous Republic was granted the right to solve by itself all language issues confined to its own territory. In the 1995 revised version of this law, provisions to this effect are made with reference to language use only, to the exclusion of corpus issues. However, Karakalpak linguistics is de facto conducted more or less exclusively in Karakalpakistan, or to be more precise, in Nukus, the capital of the Republic. This is a significant fact with regard to the reform and development of presentday Karakalpak, not least in the lexical field. Thus, despite the strong tendency towards a centralized all-state language policy in Uzbekistan and the impact of Uzbek-language reform strategies on other language communities, Karakalpak vocabulary reform and Karakalpak literary trends may after all have a chance to develop at least partly within its own local context, independent of Uzbek. 6.7. Russian 6.7.1. Minority Language and Lingua Franca Within the state borders of Uzbekistan, Russian has no other formal status than that of a minority language. In the 1989 State Language Law it was given the role of a language for interethnic, or “cross-national” (Uzb. millatlararo) communication and was referred to as such in several articles of the law. This epithet was not repeated in the 1995 revised version of the language law, where Russian was mentioned only once—and merely as one of a number of available languages. Despite these formal conditions, Russian is far from having lost its former position as the leading language in many spheres of Uzbek social and public life, not least in the fields of administration and education. After a decision in the middle of the 1990s allowing PhD theses

language policy and development in uzbekistan

195

to be written in either Uzbek, Russian or English (as well as Karakalpak in Karakalpakistan), the proportion of Uzbek-medium and Russian-medium dissertations, respectively, seems at present to be on an equal footing.47 The choice of language for one’s thesis work may be decided not only by the skill of the PhD candidate himself and the type of subject. It may also be influenced by the linguistic competence and preference of the supervisor, who is still more often than not a senior scholar educated during the Soviet era with Russian exclusively as his academic language. As to their own scholarly work, senior scholars who are ethnic Uzbeks feel pressured by the current state language policy of promoting Uzbek as a scientific language. In cases where they have not yet acquired the skill to write scientifically in this language, they simply have their original Russian versions translated into Uzbek. With the rapid increase of literacy across the young Soviet state, which was a prerequisite for the system of mass communication needed in order to obtain a comprehensive dissemination of the communist ideology enforced by the Bolshevik rulers, Russian was the unrivalled candidate to become a lingua franca between republics and nationalities, due to its size and the circumstance that it was at that time the most modernized language as regards technical, political, and economic terminology.48 Given such a role, Russian soon acquired the status of a “primus-inter-pares” language and it eventually de facto became the one-and-only state language of the Soviet Union49 with a growing demand for proficiency in this language among the citizens of the country, regardless of ethnicity and especially in urban, professional environments. This linguistic order and the language habits generated by it could not, of course, be nullified merely through the disintegration of the Soviet Union in 1991. Be it that Russian is no longer either a state language or even an official language in Uzbekistan, 47 Personal communication from Dr. Mirzohid Raximov at the Institute of History, Tashkent, December 2005. Within the previous three years, 3 out of 5 dissertations from his own Department of International Relations had been written in Uzbek and the remaining two in Russian. 48 Schlyter 2004, p. 822. 49 According to Bolshevik rhetoric, all languages in the Soviet Union were of equal value and, therefore, the status of official language (offitsialnyy yazyk) or state language (gosudarstvennyy yazyk) was not attributed to any language, when the Union was established after the October Revolution in 1917. Not until April 1990, i.e., the very last moment of Soviet existence, was Russian proclaimed the official language of the USSR (Schlyter 2005b, p. 87, the second footnote).

196

birgit schlyter

it is nevertheless a language that a great number of people are used to meeting in everyday life and even comfortable with in their own linguistic communication. Thus, Russian is still far from having lost its position as a lingua franca in this country. To give but one example, a great many monolingual Russian and bilingual Uzbek-Russian newspapers and periodicals continue to be published. Also, newspapers which have appeared in both an Uzbek and a Russian version, among others Xalq so‘zi/Narodnoe slovo, ‘Voice of the People,’ and Toshkent oqshomi/Vechernyy Tashkent, ‘Tashkent Evening,’ are still issued in this fashion. 6.7.2. The Changing Status of Russian Russian proficiency among Uzbeks has dropped dramatically. As was noted above, there is now a generation of Uzbek teenagers who have been brought up with not only a new Latin alphabet for Uzbek but also with much less Russian than what was offered to the generation of their parents. “These children have no literature and they are cut off from a large part of Uzbek history,” was a comment made on several occasions by colleagues during my stay in Tashkent in the fall of 2005. What these colleagues were hinting at was the fact that there are currently young people entering the universities or professional life without knowing Russian and thus without access to Soviet literature in Russian, and still worse, maybe without the ability to read Uzbek literature in the Cyrillic script. Russian is no longer an obligatory school subject in Uzbekistan. After the dissolution of the USSR, there was for many years a tendency to reduce the amount of school hours for Russian language training and to devote more time to the teaching of Western languages, above all English. Teaching in Russian has also been reduced. The number of schools in Uzbekistan with Russian as the sole medium of instruction is fairly small, c. 121, constituting merely 1 percent of all schools in the country. When all schools are counted where Russian is used for teaching, either as the sole medium of instruction or together with other languages, the number rises to 770, which is about 7 percent of the total number of schools in the country.50

50

According to calculations made on the basis of data from Chernyavskaya 2005.

language policy and development in uzbekistan

197

Naturally enough, the Russian language issue is not as sensitive as it was immediately after the dissolution of the USSR. With a more relaxed approach to the former Soviet Russian dominance together with the discovery of what drawbacks too drastic a breach with the country’s near past may have on the enlightenment and cultural knowledge of future generations, there may be some reassessment of the significance of Russian in Uzbek education and public life. Moreover, given the political development in the country after the Andijan events of May 2005 and, as a consequence of that, the Uzbek rapprochement with Russia, there are already indications of a more benevolent attitude towards the Russian language and culture on the part of Uzbek authorities. As a result of the new Uzbek-Russian intimacy, a branch of the Moscow University was established in 2005–2006 at the National University of Uzbekistan in Tashkent. The former status of Russian as an unequalled prestige language in Uzbekistan, however, has been extinguished once and for all. Due to a number of obvious factors, its usage domain will inevitably continue to be increasingly constricted, no matter what course the new political development may take. The Slavic minority—now c. 1 million constituting around 4 percent of the Republic’s total population—has been reduced by more than one third since independence and is not likely to grow in the future. The integration of remaining native Russian speakers in the Uzbek society through intermarriages and socialization with ethnic Uzbeks shows a downward trend for the post-Soviet period.51 As regards corpus issues, Russian is steadily losing ground to Uzbek, as the vocabulary of this language is expanding in fields formerly reserved for Russian. For example, in November 2005, an Uzbek newspaper wrote: “Linux speaks Uzbek” (Linuks ŭzbekcha gapiradi), reporting that work was being done for the translation of the Linux operating system into Uzbek and for the production of Uzbeklanguage computer manuals, which could then replace the manuals in Russian which had been used so far.52 Neither is Russian a source language any longer in Uzbek word formation. Russian morphemes are not employed for the derivation of new Uzbek words, as they were during the Soviet era. Likewise, the

51 52

Arutyunyan 2003; cf. Ilxamov 2002. Adolat (‘Justice’), 11 November 2005, p. 2.

198

birgit schlyter

number of new Russian loan words in Uzbek will most certainly be kept at a much more moderate level than before. 6.8. Minority Languages and Vestiges of Diglossia 6.8.1. Multilingualism The non-Uzbek minorities constitute around 20 percent of Uzbekistan’s population. Half of these are immigrants or deportees to Central Asia from the Soviet era and their descendents. The rest are people who have lived in the region as long as and in some cases even longer than ethnic Uzbeks, such as various small communities of Iranian and Arabic stock. There are more than 130 nationalities living in the country at present and almost as many languages are spoken there. Seven languages serve as media of instruction in Uzbek public schools. Besides the three languages already reviewed—Uzbek, Karakalpak, and Russian—the four so-called brother languages (qardosh tillar)—Kazakh, Kyrgyz, Turkmen, and Tajik—are used for teaching in 4-5 percent of all schools.53 All of these languages are represented in the mass media (newspapers, magazines and/or television and radio broadcasting), together with a small number of other languages, such as Uighur, Tatar, Crimean Tatar, Turkish, Ukrainian, and Korean. A still greater number of languages, including some of the aforementioned ones, are sustained by means of native-language courses at National Cultural Centers operating in different parts of the country. In the Uzbek Constitution of December 1992 there is no reference to any other official language besides the State Language nor is any other language mentioned by name.54 However, in both the Language Law of 1989 and the 1992 Constitution, provisions are made for the non-discriminatory use and development of all nationality languages spoken within the territory of Uzbekistan. This position is in accord with traditional attitudes towards multilingualism in this part of the world. In a region like Central Asia, characterized by multilingualism since time immemorial, there is generally great tolerance and respect

53 54

According to calculations made on the basis of data from Chernyavskaya 2005. As for Karakalpak, see footnote 41.

language policy and development in uzbekistan

199

for languages other than one’s own, and many people are used to hearing and even communicating in different tongues. 6.8.2. Uzbek As “High Language” The main change brought about by the new language situation in Uzbekistan is not so much the restrictions placed on the use of certain languages, primarily Russian, or a radical change of language attitudes. A circumstance of more fundamental importance is the fact that Uzbek is after all not only a state-wide, “superethnic” official language, but also—within the same geographical domain—still an ethnic language as it has always been and to a much greater extent than Russian was ever perceived to be. In a previous work I have commented that ‘the adoption of Uzbek as a state language is a measure of national reidentification that affects non-Uzbek nationals as much as, and in one important sense, even more than it does ethnic Uzbeks,’ since these ‘are now expected to become Uzbeks both where state loyalty and national (= “nation-state”) identity are concerned.’55 For non-Uzbeks, many of whom are acquainted with an Uzbek language variety of their own home community, this may not only lead to sensitive shifts of balance in the relationship between ethnicities. It may also cause a “diglossic” division between their own dialect of Uzbek and standard, literary Uzbek, which they will now have to master as their state, or even “national” language. The Soviet Standard Uzbek language has been described as a nonvernacular “high language” contrasting with the spoken dialects of this language.56 Given such a statement, the Uzbek language could be characterized as diglossic in the original (Ferguson 1959) definition of this concept, i.e. the functional split occurs between varieties of one and the same language. The Soviet standard variety of Uzbek differed from its dialects functionally as well as from a lexical and phonetic point of view. It was a language acquired not with the development of the child’s language-processing capacity but by later training at school or through formal communication. As regards vocabulary and pronunciation, Soviet Standard Uzbek was also a russified language to a much higher degree than any of its dialects.

55

Schlyter 1998, p. 170; cf. Schlyter 2004. Lewis 1972, p. 171, has a brief comment on ‘the co-existence of a general standard (written) and a more regional standard [Uzbek]. . . .’ 56

200

birgit schlyter

The diglossic differentiation of Uzbek is also complicated by the circumstance that the standard variety of this language developed apart from the spoken dialects under the strong influence of Chaghatay, which was a formal and not casually spoken literary language (see above). The language of the earliest “Uzbek” novels, plays, and non-fiction texts published by Turkestanian reformists (the Jadids; jadidlar) around the turn of the previous century was in actual fact Chaghatay sentence structures with an increased share of indigenous Turkic words instead of the usual Arabic-Persian words of Classical Chaghatay. With the subsequent Soviet language reform, Uzbek was more and more differentiated from Chaghatay through the simplification and unification of grammatical forms and—most significantly— first and foremost through the Russification of the vocabulary but also to a considerable extent through patterns of expression and reasoning calqued on the Soviet Socialist Russian language. With the moderate pace of vocabulary reform demonstrated by linguists and officials in charge of Uzbek language planning, the distinction remains between a Russified Uzbek state language and dialects that are much less Russified. However, the diglossic relationship between, on the one hand, a formal Uzbek state language and, on the other, spoken varieties of this language and, for that matter, other languages used for informal communication57 may be blurred and perhaps finally extinguished, as this state language variety is spread to larger population strata through education and public communication. 6.9. Foreign Languages Although foreign language teaching was considered important during most of the Soviet era,58 proficiency in foreign languages as well as the motives for learning a foreign language seem to have varied greatly among citizens. There may also have been great differences in this respect between different parts of the huge Soviet state. One circumstance indicating a generally low degree of proficiency in Western languages in Uzbekistan, for example, is the difficulty that adults, even

57

For broader definitions of the notion of diglossia including functional splits between more than one language, see e.g. Fishman 1972 and Fasold 1984. 58 As to foreign language teaching during the first few decades of Soviet rule, see Ornstein 1958; cf. Lewis 1972, pp. 203-8.

language policy and development in uzbekistan

201

academics, have had in adopting and learning the new Latin alphabet introduced for Uzbek in 1993–1995 (see above). Due to their isolation during the Soviet period, Uzbeks and Central Asians in general had very little contact with Westerners. At present, however, the availability of these languages as well as people’s interest in getting in contact with Westerners is very strong. 6.9.1. The Popularity of English After independence, English has gained a status it never had before in Uzbekistan. It is employed as second to the State Language not only in contexts with strong international links (airport signs, passports, etc.), but also in official domestic documents, such as diplomas and ID cards. In dissertation abstracts (avtoreferat), English is one of the languages required for a brief, one- or two-page summary at the end of the abstract. The standard of English in these abstracts varies; apparently there is so far no requirement that the text be scrutinized and edited by a professional or native English-speaking person. The same disparity in standard can be noted for local- or state-language periodicals, some of which publish from time to time articles in non-edited English either written or translated by local contributors. However, the ambition to have English become a widely used and comprehensive foreign language among the citizens of Uzbekistan is obvious. There is still a great scarcity of both teachers and course material, particularly in rural and poor urban areas, but great efforts are being made by state-owned institutions as well as foreign organizations to improve the knowledge of English.59 Uzbek State Television, for example, is actively taking part in not only launching the new Latin alphabet but also in promoting English. During the fall of 2005, the present author could watch news programs presented in excellent English by young Uzbeks, from the same studio and with the same equipment as was used in regular adult Uzbek-language news programs. 59 For several years the British Council and the Public Affairs Section of the US Embassy in Tashkent have been very active in supporting English language teaching in the country; see articles in Coleman et al. 2005. These activities may have taken on a different character as a consequence of the strained relations between Uzbekistan and the West after the Andijan events in May 2005. On the other hand, people’s attitudes towards English as the most important world language do not seem to have been much influenced by this development. For further comments on “international communication,” “world language,” and related concepts, cf. Ammon 2010 and Ricento 2010, as well as other articles in Coupland 2010.

202

birgit schlyter

Anglicisms enter Uzbek as they do other languages of the world, now with the difference that they are not to the same extent as before reshaped under the impact of Russian pronunciation or spelling. Whereas previous loans were so-to-speak Russian imports (e.g., gospital’, trener, tredyunion for ‘hospital,’ ‘trainer’ and ‘trade union,’ respectively), new words from English may be pronounced and written more in accordance with their original English shape (treyder, ‘trader,’60 sheyping, ‘shaping (with training apparatus in a gym),’ etc.). Russian morphology in well-established loan words (internatsionalizatsiya, ‘internationalization,’ with Ru. -izatsiya corresponding to Eng. -ization, etc.) generally remains unchanged, whereas derivations from more recent loan words are more often than before accomplished by means of Uzbek morphology (e.g., globallashuv, ‘globalization,’ with Uzb. -lash (verbal ending) + -uv (nominal ending) corresponding to Eng. -ization). 6.9.2. Foreign vs. Minority Language The second most taught Western language in Uzbekistan at present is German. Classes in French and a couple of other European languages, for example Spanish, are offered on a much smaller scale. As much as the former Soviet Central Asia was the “entrance gate” for official visits from Asian and Muslim countries, this region was also commissioned by the central Moscow government to teach Asian languages,61 such as Hindi, Urdu, Bengali, Chinese, Arabic, and Persian. A number of special bilingual (Uzbek-Russian) schools for primary and secondary education were set up in the new (“Russian”) part of Tashkent, where one of these Asian languages was taught to the pupils. Examples of such schools are “22-nchi arab maktabi,” ‘The 22nd Arabic School,’ and “24-inchi Shastri nomidagi maktab,” ‘The 24th School in the name of Shastri,”62 with courses in Hindi. Many of these schools are still working with the same choice of foreign language in their syllabus.

60 O‘zbekiston Ovozi (‘Voice of Uzbekistan’), 11 October 2005, p. 2: Xitoydagi eng katta treyder sifatida . . . (in Cyrillic script). ‘As the biggest trading partner in China. . . .’ 61 Ornstein 1958, p. 388. 62 This school was established in honor of the Indian Prime Minister Shastri, who died of a heart attack during an official visit to Tashkent in 1966.

language policy and development in uzbekistan

203

Since Uzbekistan is a multiethnic and multilingual society, some of the above-mentioned languages could perhaps be counted among the minority languages of the country. For example, with small enclaves of culturally and to some extent also linguistically Arabic populations, the Arabic language could be given such a status. An even stronger case can be made for Persian. In fact, many do consider this language to be part of Tajik studies, and Persian is thus closely associated with the country’s minority languages. Another language not mentioned so far, and not much attended to during the Soviet era, is Turkey Turkish. As a result of increased contact between Central Asia and Turkey, through students studying in Turkey during the first half of the independence period and Turkish businessmen and teachers working in Central Asia as well as through Turkish-language broadcasts to the region from the Turkish State Television, Turkey Turkish has become familiar to and even used by many Central Asians. Now, in Uzbekistan at least, Turkish is not taught as a foreign language but, rather, is considered to be part of the common linguistic culture63 of the Turkic peoples. 6.10. Concluding Remarks Uzbek language reform provides a good illustration of the complexity and intricacies of language planning and language reform carried out in a society—be it a new state or not—where the most immediate task is not to teach people how to read and write or to develop for the first time education programs for the purpose of including such categories as have not been accustomed to any education except perhaps some elementary schooling. At the time of break-up from the Soviet Union, the Uzbeks were a well-educated people with literacy scoring close to 99-100 percent. The primary aim of language reform thus was not—as in early 20thcentury Soviet Union or Turkey—to help establish a modern society with a majority of the population taking part or being included in the sociopolitical discourse of the state through education and mass

63 For extensive comments on the notion of “linguistic culture,” see Schiffman 1996.

204

birgit schlyter

communication.64 Rather, Uzbek language reform has been made part of a transition process from one sociopolitical discourse to another, where the subjects of the state are not first-time “trainees” but already trained people urged to reevaluate their old patterns of language behavior for the sake of abandoning them and adopting other patterns.65 Given this situation, language reform is not tied to the basic needs of modernization but a tool for political reorientation. As such, language development is more than ever before under the spell of public opinion, more sensitive to political vascillation and, consequently, more unpredictable, regardless of being promoted by a highly centralized language policy and controlled by such a totalitarian authority as the Karimov regime in Tashkent. Language reform is not a major political issue in Uzbekistan at present and it is proceeding at a rather moderate pace. After a period of intensive work on laws and regulations together with a flourishing language debate during the first half of the 1990s, the issue of language has entered a phase of relaxation, if not indifference. Attitudes towards the formerly so dominant Russian language have become more appreciative and, more generally speaking, the traditional tolerance towards multilingual communication lingers on. As regards language reform strategies, on the other hand, little has changed, even in comparison to pre-independence Soviet language policy. The former Soviet view on language as first and foremost an ideological tool still plays a role in Tashkent. This can be discerned not only in the official rhetoric, but—more importantly—also in the very comprehension of what language is in relation to the state and its people. For President Karimov, with his training as a Soviet politician, it may seem difficult and perhaps not even desirable to define the notion of state as simply an administrative body regulated by laws and detached from ideology. In his ideology of national independence, the Uzbek language becomes the pillar upon which the history and culture of the Uzbek nation-state can, and should, rest.

64 For Soviet language policy, recall works referred to earlier in this article. For comments on the Turkish language reform from the point of view of state- and nation-building, see e.g. Doğançay-Aktuna 1995 and Schlyter 2006. 65 For a broader survey of the language situation and language policies in all of the ex-Soviet Central Asian states, see Landau and Kellner-Heinkele 2001; cf. Schlyter 2003, 2004, and forthcoming b.

language policy and development in uzbekistan

205

After merely two decades of autonomy and independence it is small wonder that Soviet-style paradigms are still operating in the minds of Uzbek language planners, the great majority of whom are Soviet-bred linguists and politicians. However, it should not be forgotten that this state of affairs is transitory and will inevitably change in just another decade or two. The transition will be shaped by and is already fuelled by the new political conditions under which Uzbekistan is developing as a state. What makes the language situation in present-day Uzbekistan differ the most from that of the pre-independence period is the fact that Uzbekistan as a sovereign state also has to relate to an international context. The internationalization of Uzbek vocabulary, especially in science and business, is already taking new shape and, significantly enough, Uzbek is becoming more and more independent of Russian as a mediator of international terminology. This is a process that will be accelerated when the presently adolescent and future post-Soviet Uzbek generations are old enough to become the masters of language development in their country. References Abdullaev, Evgeniy. (2005). “Uzbekistan: Between Traditionalism and Westernization,” in Boris Rumer (ed.), Central Asia at the End of the Transition, Armonk/ London: M.E. Sharpe, pp. 267-94. Ager, Dennis. (2001). Motivation in Language Planning and Language Policy, Multilingual Matters Series 119, Clevedon: Multilingual Matters Ltd. Ammon, Ulrich. (2010). “World Languages: Trends and Futures,” in Coupland 2010, pp. 101-22. Appel, René, and Pieter Muysken. (1987). Language Contact and Bilingualism, London: Edward Arnold. Arutyunyan, Yu. V. (2003). Transformatsiya postsovetskix natsiy: po materialam etnosotsiologicheskix issledovaniy, Moscow: Nauka. Baldauf, Ingeborg. (1993). Schriftreform und Schriftwechsel bei den muslimischen Russland- und Sowjettürken (1850–1937): ein Symptom ideengeschichtlicher und kulturpolitischer Entwicklungen, Budapest: Akadémiai Kiadó. Baldauf Jr., Richard B. (2008). “Rearticulating the Case for Micro Language Planning in a Language Ecology Context,” in Anthony J. Liddicoat and Richard B. Baldauf Jr. (eds.), Language Planning and Policy: Language Planning in Local Context, Bristol/ Buffalo/Toronto: Multilingual Matters, pp. 18-41. Borovkov, A.K. (1940). Uzbekskiy literaturnyy yazyk v period 1905–1917 gg., Tashkent: Gosudarstvennoe uchebno-pedagogicheskoe izdatel’stvo UzSSR. Chernyavskaya, T.V. (ed.). (2005). Ŭzbekistonning etno-konfessional atlasi (also in English and Russian). Tashkent: “Kartografiya” ilmiy-ishlab chiqarish Davlat korxonasi. Coleman, Hywel, Jamilya Gulyamova and Andrew Thomas. (eds.). (2005). National Development, Education and Language in Central Asia and Beyond, Tashkent: British Council Uzbekistan.

206

birgit schlyter

Coupland, Nikolas. (ed.). (2010). The Handbook of Language and Globalization, Malden: Wiley-Blackwell. Doğançay-Aktuna, Seran. (1995). “An Evaluation of the Turkish Language Reform After 60 Years,” in Language Problems and Language Planning, vol. 19, no. 3, pp. 221-49. Dua, Hans R. (2008). Ecology of Multilingualism: Language, Culture and Society, Mysore: Yashoda Publications. Eckmann, J. (1966). Chagatay Manual (Indiana University Publications, Uralic and Altaic Series, vol. 60). Bloomington: Mouton. Fasold, Ralph. (1984). The Sociolinguistics of Society, Oxford/New York: Basil Blackwell Ltd. Ferguson, Charles. (1959). “Diglossia,” in Word, vol. 15, pp. 325-40. Fierman, William. (1991). Language Planning and National Development: The Uzbek Experience, Berlin/New York: Mouton de Gruyter Co. Fishman, Joshua A. (1972). Sociolinguistics: A brief introduction, Rowley, Mass.: Newbury House Publishers. Fitrat, A. (1925). (Ozbek tili qa’idalari toghrisida bir tajriba. Birinchi kitab) Sarf [(An attempt concerning the rules of Uzbek. Book One) Morphology], Samarkand: Ozbekistan davlat nashriyati (transliterated Arabic characters). Fitrat, Abdurrauf. (1930). Nәhv. Ɵzbek tili qaьdalarь toƣrьsьda bir taçriвa. Ikinci kitaв [Syntax. An attempt concerning the rules of Uzbek. Book Two], Samarkand: Ɵzвekistan dәvlәt nәşriyәti (in Latin script). Gabain, A. von. (1945). Özbekische Grammatik: mit Bibliographie, Lesestücken und Wörterverzeichnis, Leipzig/Wien: Otto Harrassowitz. Grenoble, Lenore A. (2003). Language Policy in the Soviet Union, Dordrecht/Boston/ London: Kluwer Academic Publishers. Hojiev, A. (1996). Termin tanlash mezonlari [Criteria for the Choice of Terms], Tashkent: Ŭzbekiston Respublikasi Fanlar Akademiyasining “Fan” nashriyoti. Ibragimov, S.I. (1972). “Uzbekskiy alfavit i voprosy ego sovershenstvovaniya,” in N.A. Baskakov (ed.), Voprosy sovershenstvovaniya alfavitov tyurskix yazykov SSSR, Moscow: Nauka, pp. 157-73. Ilxamov, Alisher. (ed.). (2002). Etnicheskiy atlas Uzbekistana, Tashkent: Institut “Otkrytoe Obshchestvo.” Kamalov, S., A. Xayitmetov et al. (eds.) (1994). Istoriya karakalpakskoy literatury (s drevneyshix vremen do 1917 g.). Tashkent: FAN. Kaplan, Robert B., and Richard B. Baldauf. (1997). Language Planning: From Practice to Theory, Multilingual Matters Series 108, Clevedon: Multilingual Matters Ltd. Karimov, B.R. (2003). Millat, inson va til: taraqqiyot muammolari [Nation, Man and Language: Development issues], Karshi: “Nasaf ” nashriyoti. Karimov, I.A. (2001). Za protsvetanie rodiny—kashdyy iz nas v otvete, vol. 9, Tashkent. Landau, Jacob M., and Barbara Kellner-Heinkele (eds.) (2001). Politics of Language in the Ex-Soviet Muslim States, London: Hurst. Lewis, E. Glyn. (1972). Multilingualism in the Soviet Union: Aspects of Language Policy and its Implementation, The Hague/Paris: Mouton. Maurais, Jacques, and Michael A. Morris. (eds.). (2003). Languages in a Globalising World, New York: Cambridge University Press. Nazyrov, D.S. (1972). “Ob usovershenstvovanii i unifikatsii alfavita karakalpakskogo yazyka,” in N.A. Baskakov (ed.). Voprosy sovershenstvovaniya alfavitov tyurskix yazykov SSSR, Moscow: Nauka, pp. 75-87. Ornstein, Jacob. (1958). “Foreign Language Training in the Soviet Union—A Qualitative View,” in The Modern Language Journal, vol. 42, no. 1, pp. 382-92. Qari-Nijazij, T.N. (1940). Ozbek tiliniŋ eski va jaŋi jazuvi toƣrisidagi masalalar [Issues concerning the Old and New Scripts of Uzbek; in Latin script], Tashkent: OzFAN naşrijati.

language policy and development in uzbekistan

207

Qodirov, Pirimqul. (2005). Til va el [Language and Nation], Tashkent: Ghafur Ghulom nomidagi nashriyot. Qoriniyozov (= Qari-Nijazij, T.N.). (1956). Sovet Ŭzbekistoni madaniyati tarixidan ocherklar [Essays on Soviet-Uzbek Cultural History], Tashkent: Ŭzbekiston SSR Fanlar Akademiyasi nashriyoti. Ricento, Thomas. (ed.). (2006). An Introduction to Language Policy: Theory and Method, Oxford: Blackwell. Ricento, Thomas. (2010). “Language Policy and Globalization,” in Coupland 2010, pp. 123-41. Schiffman, Harold F. (1996). Linguistic Culture and Language Policy, London/New York: Routledge. Schlyter, Birgit N. (1998). “New Language Laws in Uzbekistan,” in Language Problems and Language Planning, vol. 22, no. 2 (1998), pp. 143-81. ——. (2003). “Sociolinguistic Changes in Transformed Central Asian Societies,” in Maurais and Morris 2003, pp. 157-87. ——. (2004). “Changing Language Loyalties in Central Asia,” in Tej K. Bhatia and William C. Ritchie (eds.). The Handbook of Bilingualism, Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, pp. 808-34. ——. (2005a). “The Karakalpaks and Other Language Minorities under Central Asian State Rule,” in Birgit N. Schlyter. (ed.). Prospects for Democracy in Central Asia, Swedish Research Institute in Istanbul, Transactions, vol. 15, London: I.B. Tauris, pp. 81-94. ——. (2005b). “Språk och politik i Centralasien”, in YMER, vol. 125, Svenska Sällskapet för Antropologi och Geografi, pp. 77-94. ——. (2006). “Turkey,” in Sociolinguistics: An International Handbook of the Science of Language and Society, vol. 3, Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, pp. 1903–11. ——. (2007). Language Reform and Language Status in Multilingual Uzbekistan, Asian Cultures and Modernity Research Reports, vol. 13, Stockholm. ——. (2010). “Från statspråk till nationalspråk i Centralasien,” in Årsbok 2010, Kungl. Vitterhets Historie och Antikvitets Akademien, Stockholm, pp. 153-68. ——. (forthcoming a). “The Status of Uzbek as ‘National Language’,” in Mirja Juntunen, Uday Narayan Singh, and Birgit Schlyter. (eds.). Competing Language Loyalties in South and Central Asia: Theories versus Case Studies. Proceedings from a workshop held at Central Institute of Indian Languages, Mysore, India, jointly organized by the Department of South and Central Asian Studies, Stockholm University, and the Nordic Centre in India, 4-6 March 2008. ——. (forthcoming b). “Multilingualism and Language Renewal in Ex-Soviet Central Asia,” in Tej K. Bhatia and William C. Ritchie. (eds.). The Handbook of Bilingualism and Multilingualism, Malden: Wiley-Blackwell. Shohamy, Elana. (2006). Language Policy: Hidden Agendas and New Approaches, London/New York: Routledge. Sievers, Eric W. (2002). “Uzbekistan’s Mahalla: From Soviet to Absolutist Residential Community Associations”, The Journal of International and Comparative Law at Chicago-Kent, vol. 2, pp. 91-158, http://www.kentlaw.edu/jicl/articles/spring2002 /JICL%20Sievers%20Mahalla%20final%20for%20publication.pdf. Smith, Michael G. (1998). Language and Power in the Creation of the USSR, 1917– 1953, Berlin/New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Spolsky, Bernard. (2004). Language Policy, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Umarov, E. (2002). “Sovremennyy uzbekskiy yazyk,” in Ilxamov 2002, pp. 304-11. Wright, Sue. (2004). Language Policy and Language Planning: From Nationalism to Globalisation, New York: Palgrave Macmillan.

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE FATE OF UZBEK LANGUAGE IN THE ‘OTHER’ CENTRAL ASIAN REPUBLICS William Fierman Prior to the collapse of the USSR, the population of Soviet Central Asia had been ruled by a regime that for decades had attempted to convince them, and other citizens of the USSR, that their most meaningful links with other human beings were not ethnic, linguistic, religious, or racial; rather, such links, though important in certain contexts, were supposed to be secondary to common Soviet citizenship. Although this “most important” bond of shared Soviet citizenship lost its political meaning with the establishment of independent countries on former Soviet territory, the fundamental problem of establishing a basis for patriotism—this time in newly independent states—remained. In the changed world, the new states that emerged from the USSR faced the complex problem of determining the nature of the “glue” that would hold together the population and territory that they inherited. In the Soviet era, the Communist Party had promoted the Russian language as one of the primary bonds shared by the country’s population. Indeed, Russian was referred to as the “second mother tongue” of the Soviet Union’s non-Russians. According to Soviet ideology, the links among the USSR’s population were constantly increasing, and although individual cultures and languages were enjoying a period of “flourishing” (rastsvet), the process of sblizhenie (rapprochement) was proceeding, and somewhere on the distant horizon was the prospect of sliianie (merger). Although Soviet ideologists disagreed on some fine points, the writing between the lines in some works clearly implied that the non-Russian languages of the USSR were doomed to ever smaller domains or even disappearance. A tension always existed in Soviet policy between maintaining or at least tolerating the non-Russian languages and cultures of the peoples inhabiting the USSR, and the promotion of Russian language and culture as the foundation of the “Soviet people.” The balance of policies promoting rastsvet and sblizhenie varied both over time and from region to region. Furthermore, contradictory policies were often at play

the fate of uzbek language

209

simultaneously, though out of sight. Both Russian and non-Russian writers, historians, and other members of the creative intelligentsia, frequently took advantage of “cracks” in policies to deliver messages that were at variance with implicit or explicit directives from the central party apparatus that emphasized rapprochement. Nevertheless, in the decades leading up to the Gorbachev era, Moscow emphasized the need to instill in Soviet citizens a sense that their strongest allegiances should be to the Soviet homeland and, as reflected in the words of a popular Brezhnev-era song, their “address was not a house number or street, but the Soviet Union.” The Soviet collapse radically changed the relevant actors creating policies related to identity and, in particular, language throughout the USSR, including in Central Asia. The changes, of course, affected both the Russian language and the titular language in each of the five newly independent Central Asian states. For most members of titular nationalities in the Central Asian countries, the dominant language was that which matched their “nationality;” in their eyes, in accordance with basic principles of Soviet nationality policy, the division of territory also implied the division of linguistic space. Indeed, this had been recognized to some extent in the language laws that most Soviet republics adopted in 1989 and 1990. The laws as adopted in each Central Asian republic all maintained a special role for Russian. Each republic law also provided at least a nod in recognition of other minority languages spoken in the republic. Despite the aspirations of some of the most ardent nationalists, even after independence in 1991, all Central Asian countries were still obliged to use Russian in many domains within the new states, not to mention for communications with other former Soviet republics. Many members of the political, economic, social, and cultural elite in the newly independent countries had been educated in Russian and did not know the state language of their suddenly independent country. This above all applied to Slavs and other members of nontitular groups. However, even many members of the titular elite had been educated in Russian; a sizeable share could not write or read “their own” language; some could not even conduct a conversation in it. Even today, Russian continues to be used in many government offices throughout Central Asia despite the fact that representatives of the titular nationality dominate. This is certainly true in Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan; and has also been true at least until recently in certain institutions in Tajikistan and Uzbekistan.

210

william fierman

The situation faced by the “other” languages of Central Asia, i.e., the non-titular languages besides Russian, was very different when the USSR collapsed. These languages, unlike Russian, were generally spoken only by members of individual ethnic groups carrying the same name as the language. In some cases, particularly other Slavic groups, Koreans, and those less numerous living dispersed among other nationalities, the nationality language was restricted to the home and certain monoethnic social settings; Russian had become the dominant language for many of these people, and they were educated overwhelmingly in Russian-medium schools. While most of the “other” languages just described were quickly losing ground and had very limited domains, the story was different for a second category of “other” languages that were more widely used. This was primarily the case with languages of other, neighboring Central Asian countries—e.g., Tajik in Uzbekistan, Uzbek in Kazakhstan, Kyrgyz in Tajikistan, etc. Despite the fact that these languages were used in a larger number of domains than, say, Korean or Tatar in Central Asia, they were nevertheless vulnerable in a way that Russian was not. Furthermore, they represented the titular ethnic group of neighboring countries with which relations were often problematic. This chapter will examine questions related to the most widespread “other” Central Asian language, Uzbek, in the other four newly independent countries of Central Asia—Turkmenistan, Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Kazakhstan. It will focus on the domains of education and mass media. We will begin by examining factors that have affected the entire region, presenting some caveats that must be kept in mind when using the names of ethnic groups and languages in the region, and some background on the status of Uzbek in the late Soviet era. In the next section we will consider the status, one by one, in each of the “other” Central Asian countries. Following this we will consider the likelihood of Uzbek surviving in education and media environments in Turkmenistan, Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Kazakhstan. We will conclude by reconsidering the link between ethnicity, territory, and language that seems to be part of the popular understanding in Central Asia, the possible impact of technology on the control of information in minority languages produced beyond a state’s borders, and the prospects for preserving language in the family outside of Uzbekistan.

Turkmenabad

Khojand

Tashkent

KYRGYZST

TAJIKISTAN

Namangan Andijan Osh Ferghana

Samarkand Panjikent Bukhara Dushanbe Kulab Karshi Tursunzoda Kurgantepa

UZBEKISTAN

Urgench

Sayram

Bishkek

Map 1. Along with the very largest cities of Uzbekistan, this map contains names of certain cities in surrounding former Soviet republics; substantial numbers of Uzbeks live in or nearby these cities. A large number of Uzbeks also lives in northern Afghanistan, but the cities are not shown because this chapter concerns only Turkmenistan, Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Kazakhstan. (See also the map of the Ferghana Valley on the next page, which contains names of additional cities in Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan.) Names of cities with common English spellings have been rendered in that form. Because this chapter is about Uzbek language, the spelling of cities in neighboring countries reflects Uzbek pronunciation (thus “Tashavuz” rather than “Dashoguz”).

TURKMENISTAN

Tashavuz

Nukus

Chimkent

Turkistan

the fate of uzbek language 211

Dushanbe Tursunzoda

Panjikent

Osh

TAJIKISTAN

Kizilkiya

Ferghana

Map 2. Along with the very largest cities in Uzbekistan’s part of the Ferghana Valley, this map contains only names of the capitals of Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan, plus those cities in surrounding countries with large Uzbek populations inside them or in their environs. Names of cities with common English spellings have been rendered in that form. Because this chapter is about Uzbek language, the spelling of cities in neighboring countries reflects Uzbek pronunciation (thus “Jalalabad” rather than “Jalalabat”).

Samarkand

KYRGYZST

Namangan Jalalabad Uzgen Kokand Andijan

Khojand Konibodom

Tashkent

Sayram

Chimkent

Bishkek

212 william fierman

the fate of uzbek language

213

7.1 “Factors” In order to understand the changes in language status, we will begin by looking at some of the political, social, economic, and technology context of the late Soviet era which, when changed, profoundly affected language. 7.1.1 Factor 1: Borders By definition, the collapse of the USSR in 1991 meant the creation of international borders between the Central Asian countries. Until the last years of Soviet power, Soviet international borders were relatively tight, with passage across those borders controlled from Moscow. This applied to the movement of people, goods, and to a considerable extent even to information. Travel abroad for Soviet citizens was very limited, and often required going through Moscow even if it was far out of the way.1 With the economy controlled by the state, there were no private firms or individuals legally able to transport large amounts of goods across the Soviet border. Soviet authorities’ attempts to control information from abroad included radio jamming and customs controls at borders, which limited the freedom to import or export books or recordings or even transport personal letters across the frontier. Internal administrative borders between Soviet republics, on the other hand, were extremely porous. Except for informational signs or the same sort of road police controls that also existed within republics, travelers moving from one republic to another would generally be unaware that they were moving into another administrative unit. Indeed, roads and railroads between Central Asian cities of the same republic often crossed through another republic.2 These republic borders acquired importance of another magnitude in post-Soviet Central Asia, though their significance varies across the region. At one extreme, Turkmenistan attempts to maintain strict control of the movement of people, goods, and ideas to or from any location abroad. Nevertheless, people, goods and information move across Turkmenistan’s border with Iran in ways that were unthinkable

1 In the 1970s, Aeroflot had flights from Tashkent to Delhi, but in order to fly to Delhi, inhabitants of Uzbekistan would have to travel to Moscow to get on this flight, which would make a stop in Tashkent on its way to Delhi. 2 This was true, for example, with the roads between Tashkent and Samarkand (Uzbekistan) or Frunze (later named “Bishkek”) and Osh.

214

william fierman

in most of the Soviet era. Today it is far easier than in the Soviet era for inhabitants of Turkmenistan’s border areas to go to Iran. Meanwhile, citizens of Turkmenistan or Kazakhstan wishing to visit each other’s country must receive visas, a complex and time consuming process that is not always even successful. The same is true for Tajikistan residents wishing to go to Uzbekistan. Yet in the Soviet era there was very tight integration of the economies and transportation grids of the Uzbek SSR and Tajik SSR. 7.1.2. Factor 2: Nationality Policy and Borders—Change from Central to Individual Policies As illustrated in the discussion of sblizhenie above, the tight borders separating Soviet territory from the outside world and the relative lack of barriers to movement within Soviet space were reflected in the kind of homogenous community that was supposed to be developing inside the USSR, one that was qualitatively different from that beyond Soviet borders. Especially from the 1930s onward, the substance of the culture and language binding the Soviet people together was Russian. Although rooted in the initial Bolshevik “internationalist” convictions and expectations of a world proletarian revolution, the word “international” in Bolshevik parlance came increasingly to mean “Russian” as hopes for socialist revolution in Europe faded. In terms of language, the Russian-based sblizhenie affected the vocabulary, writing and phonetic systems, and even syntactic patterns of other languages. Although the Party never distanced itself from the view that eventually national differences would disappear, it is especially important in considering Central Asia to note that the territorial units that became independent countries in 1991 were in fact Soviet creations that began to take a more concrete form with the delimitation of territory and populations in 1924. Through the delimitation, embryonic nationalities moved a critical important step towards gaining claim to distinct territories, histories, cultures, and languages. In accordance with Marxist-Leninist theory, this process had to be conceived as a step on the road towards a future when ethnic and linguistic differences would vanish; that is, the established divisions were intended to be only a detour on the way to a homogenous society. Long before the collapse of the Soviet Union, however, it became clear that the creation of republics—each with its own unique name and indigenous people, who in turn had “their own” discrete language, culture, and history, was much more than a brief diversion on the way

the fate of uzbek language

215

towards communism. From the 1920s onward, the lines created by the delimitation brought the establishment of distinct literary languages, each assigned to a particular population. Those individuals classified as ethnic “Turkmen,” for example—despite significant differences in the form of Turkic they used—were exposed to a uniform standard of Turkmen language that was determined by an officially sanctioned body, and was promoted by the state, most importantly through mass media and schools. In this way, language played a central role in contributing to what Brubaker and Cooper have termed “commonality” and to some extent even “groupness.”3 Although language policies for “X-ish” were of most immediate importance for the population of the “X-istan” republic, the norms established for “X-ish” also applied to “Y-istan” and “Z-istan” republics where “X-men” irridenta or diaspora populations lived.4 This was because language policy was directed through the centralized Soviet governmental apparatus. There could thus not be one set of “Uzbek” norms created by and for Uzbek speakers in Uzbekistan and another set for those, say, in Kyrgyzstan or Kazkhstan. As a consequence, Uzbek-medium schools in Turkmenistan, Tajikistan, Kazakhstan, or Kyrgyzstan used the same textbooks with the same language as those in Uzbekistan; the form of Turkic used in these books was at least officially determined in Tashkent, though always in accordance with certain principles determined in Moscow, and often with input from local Russian scholars. It goes without saying that the policy of promoting Russian as “second mother tongue” was also directed from Moscow, though implemented through the party and state in each republic. Independence for the Central Asian countries meant the end of Moscow’s central direction of policies related to creating identities. Each new regime that inherited power faced the task of developing a sense of common belonging in the independent state that it governed. All of the new states’ policies emphasized that the titular nationality

3 Brubaker and Cooper, who eschew the term “identity,” prefer the term “commonality” to refer to shared common attributes and “groupness” to describe individuals’ sense of “belonging to a single, distinctive solidarity group” (Rogers Brubaker and Frederick Cooper, “Beyond ‘identity,’ ” Theory and Society vol. 29, [Feb. 2000], p. 31). 4 I use an adapted form of the notation adopted by Joshua Fishman to refer to any language as “X-ish,” and “X-men” as the speakers of that language. By analogy, I use “X-istan” to refer to any republic (Joshua Fishman, Reversing Language Shift: Theoretical and Empirical Foundations of Assistance to Threatened Languages. Philadelphia: Multilingual Matters, 1991, Chapter 4).

216

william fierman

was in some way “first among equals.” However, the way in which this principle has been applied has varied greatly across the region. Thus, for example, Turkmen culture has been promoted almost to the exclusion of all others in Turkmenistan, whereas in Kazakhstan, and to some extent Kyrgyzstan, the leadership has frequently emphasized the multi-ethnic nature of the state and the rights of minorities living on its territory. 7.1.3. Factor 3: Instruments of Implementation and Level of Repression The Soviet regime possessed an extremely powerful set of instruments to promote Russian and uniform standard languages for the Central Asian peoples. Among the most important were the Party’s control of educational institutions and the mass media; the Party also shaped policy in the military, cultural institutions, and mass organizations such as DOSAAF.5 In somewhat less direct ways, the regime also profoundly affected language processes through management of an economic system in which it shaped incentives for individuals to learn Russian (or, in the case of non-Russian areas of the USSR, sometimes other languages), and created a wide array of incentives (and disincentives) for migration. In the Central Asian region, the linguistic environment, especially but not only in urban areas, was transformed by population movement. This was especially true in the case of Kazakhstan. The republic’s demographic composition radically changed as a result of the flight of Kazakhs abroad during collectivization and sedentarization, the arrival of “deported nationalities” in the 1940s, the dumping of political prisoners from the 1930s until the 1950s, and the campaigns to send settlers to the “virgin lands” during the Khrushchev era.6 All of these processes, of course, were facilitated by the hierarchical structure of the single political party, which duplicated the state

5 DOSAAF was a paramilitary society in the Soviet Union with many activities for young people. The initials stood for “Voluntary Society of Assistance to the Army, the Air Force and the Navy.” 6 As a result of such processes, Kazakhstan’s population, which had been about 57 percent Kazakh in 1926, was only 30 percent Kazakh in 1959. At that time, less than 9 percent of the population of capital city, Alma-Ata, was Kazakh (Data for 1926 from Robert J. Kaiser The Geography of Nationalism in Russia and the USSR [Princeton: Princeton U. Press, 1994], p. 116; data for 1959 from William Fierman, “Language Vitality and Paths to Revival: Contrasting Cases of Azerbaijani and Kazakh,” International Journal of the Sociology of Language vol. 198 2009, pp. 82-6).

the fate of uzbek language

217

structure, including the military and police structures, and which had special responsibility for personnel appointments. CPSU language policy affected not only the choice of language for particular domains, but the corpus of language as well. The most obvious example of this is the shifts of alphabets, but the Party also implemented policies which affected terminology and other vocabulary, the dialect norm used in radio and television, and other fields. The ability to affect the corpus is clear from the massive russification of the vocabulary beginning in the 1930s. The Central Asian languages as represented in the mass media and in educational materials reflected the decision that Russian words borrowed by the Central Asian languages were to be written and pronounced the same as in Russian; this was true even if the Russian pronunciation of such words violated phonetic rules otherwise generally observed in the Turkic and Iranian languages. The enormous volume of translation into the Central Asian languages from Russian meant that not only Russian vocabulary, but Russian syntactic patterns as well, permeated the language of mass media. More indirectly, but perhaps of greatest importance, the education of a large share of the Central Asian elite was through the Russian language. This is not to say that the CPSU’s control of the language used by Soviet citizens was limitless. One reason is that Soviet borders, though tight, were not impermeable. In the post-World War II era, a small number of citizens had access to foreign radio broadcasts which in subtle ways challenged Soviet linguistic policy. For example, the Radio Liberty services broadcasting to Central Asia used language at variance from established norms.7 Even inside Soviet borders, however, control was far from complete. The Party regulation over language in schools and economic enterprises was likely much less effective in remote villages than in major urban areas. Probably with very rare exceptions, schools used only approved textbooks written in Russian or the official standard languages. Nevertheless, the Party had relatively little control over the use of non-standard dialects or the “wrong” language used by teachers in remote schools, let alone by pupils. Thus, for example, it is highly likely that, despite a Party a policy promoting “Russian 7

The very tall barriers that stood between Central Asians and those abroad who used language that was at variance from established norms did not exist everywhere. For example, the population of the Moldavian SSR had relatively easy access to the Romanian spoken in Romania.

218

william fierman

days” in Uzbek schools (when all instruction as well as informal communication in the school was to be only in Russian), compliance was far from complete. The Party’s control over language use in the family was likely even much less pervasive than in schools: this is particularly plausible given that several generations often lived under one roof, and younger people treated their elders with great deference. The regimes which came to power in the wake of the Soviet collapse have many of the same channels through which to influence language, and they also face some of the same limitations. The level of control and ability to affect language varies across the region. For example, the media are under stricter control in Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan than in the other three states. Likewise, the first two allow almost no private schools, book publishers, or mass media organizations; such institutions do exist in the other three states, though only within limits set by powerful governments, indeed, limits which have generally grown tighter in recent years. The level of fear of arbitrary exercise of government is also greater in Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan. All of this, combined with demographic realities, a continued heavy state hand in economic control, and policies designed to build a nation state strongly favoring the titular group, means that minority languages are especially vulnerable. 7.1.4. Factor 4: No Arbiter One other extremely important change ushered in by the Soviet collapse was the end of the era when Moscow served as arbiter in matters of dispute among ethnic groups or republics in Central Asia, including questions of history, nationality relations, and language. To illustrate: in the Soviet period, fundamental decisions about the portrayal in published histories, films, or art of Russia’s conquest of Central Asia were made in Moscow, and enforced throughout the USSR. In parallel fashion, Moscow was the arbiter on issues of which particular historical figure “belonged” to which nationality. Likewise, of course, the center determined policies concerning the roles of the Russian and other languages in Central Asia. In the post-Soviet period Russia does not play such a role; indeed, there is no arbiter. Consequently, decisions on such issues are contested in much more open fashion, and without Moscow’s direct intervention. One aspect of this change is particularly relevant to this chapter: it concerns the alphabet used to write the Uzbek language. Uzbekistan began to shift the Uzbek orthography from Cyrillic to Latin in the

the fate of uzbek language

219

mid-1990s. Without Moscow to dictate a unified standard for writing the language throughout the Central Asian region, countries other than Uzbekistan have chosen not to make this shift. An example of the consequence of this situation is that although materials for Uzbekmedium primary and secondary schools inside Uzbekistan are being printed only in the Latin script, schools in Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Kazakhstan continue to use Cyrillic-based materials.8 Moscow’s disappearance as arbiter had a profound impact within the individual countries. This is perhaps most apparent in Tajikistan, which within one year after the Soviet Union’s collapse sank into civil war. None of this is to say that Russia today is without influence in the region. However, it is currently of a lower magnitude than throughout the 1970s and 1980s. 7.1.5. Factor 5: Economic Change Much of the dramatic transformation throughout the former USSR, including in Central Asia, is related to economic change. In the Soviet era, individual republics had minimal control of their own resources, and fiscal and economic policies, which were determined in Moscow. This meant, for example, that the hard currency paid to the USSR for the export of Central Asian cotton went to Moscow rather than Central Asia, and that it was Moscow which then determined the allocation of such funds; it also meant that through a complex system of subsidies, the central budget supported a standard of living in Central Asia that was far higher than in such nearby countries as Afghanistan, and (at least according to Soviet accounting) represented a substantial transfer of funds from the center to the region. Central management of the economy was also responsible for the relatively low level of exploration and extraction of hydrocarbon fuels in the region. The lack of opportunities for individual republics to exploit and benefit from their own resources, combined with the subsidies, meant that living standards in the resource-rich and resource-poor republics were relatively similar. The relative level of equality among republics was to some extent replicated at the individual level. Although certain segments of the Soviet population in each Central Asian republic were economically 8 As will be explained below, Turkmenistan no longer has Uzbek schools or print media. The added difficulty caused by different alphabets does not mean that textbooks from other countries—especially on such a subject as history—would be acceptable if the same writing system were used in all countries.

220

william fierman

better off than others in the same republic, the magnitude of difference was relatively small. This was partly a result of state ownership and control of the means of production and of a kind of “social safety net” provided by the state to all Soviet citizens. Some of the most impressive achievements of Soviet power in Central Asia relate to education and culture. Among other things, the Soviet regime developed an extensive network of educational institutions. The guidelines for the education they provided, of course, were determined in Russia rather than in the republics. Nevertheless, even if one discounts the Soviet claims of practically 100 percent literacy in the region, it remains true that the vast majority of Soviet Central Asian adults could read and write in a standardized language. Furthermore, these were languages which at the beginning of the Soviet era had not been standardized, which lacked authoritative dictionaries, and for which vocabulary required to represent many political, social, and economic concepts were lacking. Furthermore, the speakers of these forms of Turkic and Persian had been mostly illiterate. Maintaining control over what was printed or broadcast, the Soviet government provided a vast array of subsidies to cultural products in Russian as well as in other languages of the USSR, especially those of Union republics. Subsidies supported publication and distribution of periodicals on a wide range of subjects, including oblast and raion newspapers. In Central Asia, besides publishing newspapers in Russian and the republic titular language, a number of oblasts and raions produced some in “minority” languages. The regime also subsidized schools even when small numbers of pupils lived nearby; others were sent to boarding schools. Thanks to such subsidies, Soviet citizens had access to free textbooks and other inexpensive publications, theatre and cinema at low prices, and television and radio without commercial interruptions. Although the greatest accessibility to cultural and educational activities for every language were in the titular republic, the access of irredenta groups in neighboring republics of Central Asia was enhanced through such practices as exchanges of films and theatre troops, and republic television stations occasionally showing broadcasts (especially cultural performances) from neighboring republics. The curricula and textbooks for schools in the Central Asian languages of irridenta populations were the same as in the “home” republic and, critically, there were no significant barriers to continuing education in the titular republic. Thus, for example, it was very common for Uzbeks from neighboring

the fate of uzbek language

221

republics to enter higher educational institutions in the Uzbek SSR or for Tajiks from Uzbekistan to enter universities and institutes in the Tajik SSR. The factors described above have radically changed since independence. Moscow does not direct the economies of Central Asia. Some republics are much richer than others: Kazakhstan and Turkmenistan, thanks to their hydrocarbon energy resources, have been able to attract investment and sell their products and have been able to keep the majority of their population from poverty. The situation is different in Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan, who lack hydrocarbons and whose populations are very poor.9 Today much of the economy throughout the region is in private hands, especially in Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan. This has aggravated inequality. Citizens of modest means suffer because the governments in all the countries are less generous in providing a “social safety net” than the USSR had been under socialism. Among the areas that have suffered most are education and culture. School books are no longer free, mass media and performances, if subsidized at all, are not subsidized to the extent they were under Soviet power. Today there are private schools and mass media organizations in Central Asia, especially in Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan. Nevertheless, in all of the countries, and especially under the more authoritarian regimes, there is substantial government control of the press, radio, and television. 7.1.6. Factor 6: Technology In addition to the changes above, one other fundamental factor— technological change—must be considered in order to understand the status of the Uzbek language in media and education in Uzbekistan’s neighboring former Soviet republics. As we will see below, technological change has a major impact on the domains of Uzbek language use in the post-Soviet era outside of Uzbekistan. The Soviet regime’s imperfect control of transfer of information across borders was much tighter than exists anywhere in Central Asia today. This even applies to Turkmenistan, where it is difficult to access print media from outside the country, where both citizens and foreigners alike are subject to strict control when coming into and out of the country, and where

9

Uzbekistan produces much of its own energy, but does not export much.

222

william fierman

internet access is still very limited. Despite the Turkmenistan government’s ability to crack down on the flow of media from abroad, the regime has apparently permitted (or been unwilling to take policies to stop) Uzbek audiences within Turkmenistan from listening to Uzbeklanguage radio or viewing Uzbek-language television from Uzbekistan, or from watching Uzbek musical clips or films on DVDs which were produced in Uzbekistan (or translated into Uzbek from originals produced in other countries in other languages). We will return to this subject in the conclusion, where we will consider whether the communities outside Uzbekistan where Uzbek is used are examples of bilingualism without diglossia (which would suggest Uzbek is likely to disappear), or whether diglossia (and hence bilingualism) is likely to persist. 7.2. Caveat on Terminology Although throughout this article I refer to Kazakh, Kyrgyz, Tajik, and Turkmen both as ethnic groups and as discrete languages, it should be emphasized that the situation on the ground is far more complex than my use of these terms suggests, and also more complex than might be suggested by census categories and authoritative dictionaries issued in countries that are the “home” of each language. Behind the single name of an ethnic group are often prominent differences based in geographical region, or a blood-based bond (e.g., horde, or tribe); furthermore, sometimes the ethnic categories are fluid. Igor’ Savin reports of families near the town of Turkestan (Kazakhstan) where siblings choose different nationalities, or where adults in their 40’s or 50’s have changed their reported nationality.10 The lines with regard to language are equally complex. With the partial exception of Kazakh, each of the Central Asian languages displays a great deal of dialect variation, even in the “home country.” Thus, for example, the varieties of Turkmen, Kyrgyz, Kazakh, and Tajik spoken in certain regions bordering Uzbekistan (or the varieties spoken inside Uzbekistan) contain certain elements which differ from the official standard of the titular home language and are shared with standard Uzbek. For example, the Kyrgyz language of Osh or Jalalabad

10 Igor’ Savin, “Etnichnost’ kak faktor povsednevnoi zhizni v sel’skikh raionakh Iuzhnogo Kazakhstana,” Neprikosnovennyi zapas, no. 4 (66), 2009, accessed through http://www.centrasia.ru/newsA.php?st=1258925460 28 Nov. 2009.

the fate of uzbek language

223

(in the south of Kyrgyzstan) differs from the standard Kyrgyz based on dialects of the north; some of the distinguishing elements of this “southern Kyrgyz” are shared with Uzbek. Thus, for example, an initial voiced labial ([b]) in the literary standard (which is based on northern dialects) is pronounced voiceless ([p]) in southern dialects, as is also the case in Uzbek. Likewise, many words used by Kyrgyz in the south of Kyrgyzstan but not used in the north are also used in Uzbek: Kyrgyz in the north use the word jumurtka for “egg,” but in the south the word tukhum is used, which is also the Uzbek word. Such phenomena, along with contact between Uzbeks and Kyrgyz that facilitates a high level of bilingualism, means that southern Kyrgyz and local Uzbeks who speak to each other in their “own” respective languages have a high level of mutual intelligibility. Likewise, the variety of Uzbek spoken in the Khorezm region of Uzbekistan bordering on Turkmenistan shares many phonetic and other elements with dialects of the Turkmen language that it does not share with the standard literary Uzbek based on the dialects of the Ferghana Valley. For such reasons, in the discussion of minority “languages” below, it is important to keep in mind that the story is really much more complicated than suggested by the use of a single term for each of the literary languages and the juxtaposing of their names; furthermore, we must recognize that the use of names of ethnic groups is convenient, but only a kind of shorthand also hiding as much as it reveals.11 In this context, it is worth pointing out that the status of Uzbek in Turkmenistan likely differs from that in the other Central Asian countries where, for the most part, most of the Uzbek-speaking population speaks a language fairly close to standard Uzbek. Indeed, in the case of Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan, many of the Uzbeks are “neighbors” living in close proximity in the Ferghana Valley. The majority of Uzbeks of Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Kazakhstan are also fairly close to Tashkent, the capital of Uzbekistan. Although Tashkent’s dialect also differs markedly from the Ferghana Valley-based standard, as the capital it is the center for production of much of the literary and other cultural Uzbek-language output. By contrast, Turkmenistan’s Uzbek speakers are geographically remote both from the Ferghana Valley and

11 This kind of transition from one language to the next has been described by Harold Schiffman in the case of German to Dutch, (http://ccat.sas.upenn.edu/~haroldfs/540 /langdial/limburg.html ).

224

william fierman Table 1. Percentage of pupils in Uzbek-medium schools and Uzbeks in population Percent of Uzbek- Percent of Uzbeks Percent of Uzbek medium pupils in in X Republic medium/ percent X Republic schools population of Uzbeks in population

Kazakhstan Kyrgyzstan Tajikistan Turkmenistan

2.1 12.1 23.8 6.2

2.0 12.9 23.5 9.0

1.05 0.94 1.01 0.69

Data for pupils from Vestnik statistiki are for academic year 1990–1991; data on population are from 1989 Soviet census.

Tashkent, and their culture and language are far removed both from the standard Uzbek norm and from the dialect of the capital. Before proceeding to look at the status of Uzbek in “other” republics after 1991, it will be useful to give a brief overview of easily accessible evidence about the presence of Uzbek-medium schools and mass media in the late Soviet era. In general, Uzbek-medium education was widely available throughout the areas of Central Asia where Uzbeks lived, and a high proportion of Uzbek pupils in the neighboring Central Asian republics studied in Uzbek schools or classes. According to the data below, the Uzbek school enrollment in Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan was approximately proportional to the share of Uzbeks in each of those republics’ population. In Turkmenistan, however, the share of Uzbek-medium pupils was substantially less than the share of Uzbeks in the Turkmen SSR population, which were 6.2 and 9.0 percent, respectively. These figures are particularly interesting in light of the fact that in Kyrgyzstan and (especially) Kazakhstan, the share of the titular nationality in the republic far exceeded the share of pupils in the titular language medium.12

12 Data for population taken from John Dunlop, Marc Rubin, Lee Schwartz, David Zaslow “Profiles of Newly Independent States” Joint Economic Committee, US Govt Printing Office Washington 1993, pp. 1094-103. Data for share of pupils are taken from “Novaia informatsiia Goskomstata SSSR,” Vestnik statistiki, no. 12, 1991, pp. 47-9. It should be kept in mind that, given the high Uzbek birthrate, and the much lower rate among the large Slavic population in the Kirgiz SSR and Kazakh SSR, it is likely that the share of Uzbeks among the school-age population was substantially larger than among each republic’s total population. It should also be kept in mind that some non-Uzbeks may have studied in Uzbek-medium schools; however, I am unaware of any reason to believe that the number was very large.

the fate of uzbek language

225

7.3. Uzbek in Education and Media of “Other Republics” at the End of the Soviet Era Not surprisingly, Uzbek-medium higher education was much less available than primary and secondary education in republics outside Uzbekistan. The Turkmen SSR offered no higher education in any language besides Turkmen and Russian; the Kazakh SSR offered none in Uzbek (though it had a very small number of higher education students studying in Uyghur); even in the Kyrgyz and Tajik SSR’s, where 12.8 and 22.8 percent of school pupils attended Uzbek-medium classes, Uzbek-medium higher educational enrollments were only 0.3 and 7.7 percent respectively of the total republic enrollments. It is highly plausible that many of the Central Asian students who completed “their own” titular language school in a republic not bearing their nationality’s name in fact entered higher education where the medium of instruction was their “own” language—i.e., Tajiks from Uzbekistan studying in Tajikistan (and analogous situations for Turkmen and Kyrgyz from Uzbekistan), and Uzbeks from all of the other republics studying inside Uzbekistan. It is much more difficult to determine availability of “minority language” periodical publications during the late Soviet era than to determine the number of school pupils attending classes in various languages. One reason is that, despite restrictions in some years, in the USSR it was generally possible to subscribe to periodicals published in other republics.13 Nevertheless, it is clear that minority language newspapers were published in Central Asia, often at the oblast, city, or raion level rather than at the republic level.14 Two republic-level newspapers appeared in Tajikistan in Uzbek, plus over a dozen more issued by oblasts, cities, and raions. However, in Turkmenistan, Kazakhstan, and Kyrgyzstan, it appears that only one or two raion

13 For a description of trends see Roman Szporluk, “The Press and Soviet Nationalities: The Party Resolution of 1975 and its Implementation,” Nationalities Papers vol. 14 (1986), pp. 47-64. 14 Data I have are from the second half of the 1970s, but it is likely that these publications continued to be published during the next decade. Uzbekistan, in turn, published a republic Tajik-language newspaper called Haqiqati O’zbekiston; several raion newspapers were published in Kazakh. Kazakh-language papers I have identified were from Bukhara, Jizzakh, and Tashkent oblasts. (Vsesoiuznaia knizhnaia palata. Letopis’ periodicheskikh i prodolzhaiuishchikhsia izdanii 1971–1975. Chast’ II. Gazety [items 3043, 3058, 3062, 3136]).

226

william fierman

newspapers were published in Uzbek.15 In the Soviet era, Central Asian republic television channels occasionally exchanged television programs. These may have also offered a limited amount of “native language” programming to Central Asian minorities living in other republics of the region. 7.4. Uzbek Language in Post-Soviet Education and Media 7.4.1. Turkmenistan Before looking at Uzbek-language schools or mass media in Turkmenistan, it is necessary to say a few words about the size of that country’s Uzbek population. As noted above, according to the 1989 Soviet census, Uzbeks comprised approximately 9 percent of Turkmenistan’s population. More recent reports, however, suggest that this has shrunk to only 5 percent.16 Some of Turkmenistan’s Uzbek population has certainly left for Uzbekistan. Some others, however, recognizing their Uzbek ethnicity as a liability, have changed their official registration to “Turkmen.”17 In any case, all available information suggests that the status of the Uzbek language in education and media in Turkmenistan is much worse than in the other three countries discussed here. Although in the first years after the Soviet collapse, Uzbek-medium schools continued to operate in Turkmenistan, by the mid-1990s, as part of turkmenization, schools or streams of students with Uzbek as the language of instruction were coming under heavy pressure. Thus, for example, an elite specialized school with enriched mathematics and physics

15 From Vsesoiuznaia knizhnaia palata . . . Letopis’. It is not clear whether any of the newspapers referred to here were issued entirely in Uzbek, or individual issues mixed languages, or whether perhaps the language of publication varied. 16 The confusion about the size is evident from the CIA Factbook, which indicates that 5 percent of Turkmenistan’s population is Uzbek, but also shows that 9 percent of the population speaks Uzbek as a native language. Given that few non-Uzbeks in Turkmenistan would likely claim to speak Uzbek, it is highly implausible that both of these figures would be correct. Central Intelligence Agency World Factbook, “Turkmenistan,” https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/geos/tx.html, accessed 24 Nov. 2009. 17 “Twilight Existence for Uzbek Illegals,” Institute for War Peace Reporting, (RCA No. 530), 7 Feb. 2008, accessed at http://iwpr.net/?p=rcas=fo=342550apc_state=henh on 24 Nov. 2009. As will be illustrated below, this practice of changing one’s “nationality” is not unique to Turkmenistan.

the fate of uzbek language

227

curriculum in Tashavuz (Dashouz) that had previously provided Russian-, Uzbek-, and Turkmen-medium instruction reportedly dropped Uzbek entirely in 1997. The elimination of the Uzbek-language track is said to have taken place despite protests from parents and teachers.18 In a pattern that appears to have been widespread or even universal, beginning in about 2000, Uzbek-language schools or tracks ceased accepting new pupils while allowing those in other grades to continue in Uzbek. Consequently, as of fall 2006, Uzbek-medium classes apparently remained only for the sixth through ninth grades.19 To judge from a report on formerly Kazakh-medium schools in Turkmenistan (where only two hours weekly of Kazakh language remained as a subject in these schools’ curriculum), Uzbek language may have also remained as a subject, with a small number of hours of instruction.20 At least in schools for Uzbek pupils the shift to Turkmen may in fact not have been quite as radical as suggested in the above account. According to an informant who observed a formerly Uzbek-language school in Turkmenistan around 2006 (one that had supposedly shifted to Turkmen-medium instruction), in fact many of the teachers continued to teach in Uzbek.21 Part of the reason for this, of course, may have been that teachers and pupils alike had weak Turkmen skills. Uzbek has also apparently ceased to be a language of newspaper publication in Turkmenistan. The publication of Uzbek-language newspapers was drastically reduced in the 1990s. One reason is that, with the exception of a single Kazakh-language raion newspaper, in 1995 all raion newspapers were closed. In 1997, Tashavuz city’s surviving Uzbek-language newspaper was combined with the Russian- and Turkmen-language papers, leaving only one page in Uzbek.22 Five 18 N. Mitrokhin, V. Ponomarev, Turkmenistan: Gosudarstvennaia politika i prava cheloveka 1995–1998. (Moscow, 1999). accessed through http://www.centrasia.ru /newsA.php?st=1105368360. 19 “Uzbekskie shkoly,” Khronika Turkmenistana, 3 Aug. 2006, http://www.chronotm.org/?id=682, accessed 4 Nov. 2009. 20 “Sotrudnichestvo mezhdu Respublikoi Kazakhstan i Turkmenistanom v oblasti obrazovaniia i nauki, no date, accessed at http://www.edu.gov.kz/index.php?id=rk _and_turkmenistanL=1, accessed 24 Nov. 2009. The undated report from Kazakhstan appears to have been written in 2003. Unconfirmed reports from Uzbek areas of Turkmenistan suggest that if there were Uzbek lessons six years ago, they may have nevertheless ceased in the interim. 21 Personal communication from American observer in a Turkmen school. 22 N. Mitrokhin, V. Ponomarev, Turkmenistan: Gosudarstvennaia politika i prava cheloveka 1995–1998. (Moscow, 1999), accessed through http://www.centrasia.ru/newsA .php?st=1105368360.

228

william fierman

years later, the only remaining Uzbek-language newspaper, Do’stlik bayrog’i, was also closed.23 The timing of the newspaper’s closing strongly suggests that it was connected to an alleged plot on the life of then President Niyazov, a supposed foiled assassination that, Turkmen authorities claimed, Uzbekistan had supported. Uzbek-language periodical publications from Uzbekistan are only rarely available in Turkmenistan. It is extremely difficult, if not impossible, for residents of Turkmenistan to subscribe to publications from Uzbekistan. Furthermore, it appears that Ashgabat offers no Uzbeklanguage radio or television programming.24 Indeed, authorities at the national television allegedly issue strong criticism of Turkmen journalists who interview individuals from regions near Uzbekistan and fail to assure that the interviewees avoid use of words that authorities in Ashgabat consider “Uzbek.”25 Despite all the restrictions, Uzbek media do come into Turkmenistan from Uzbekistan. Uzbek print media that are somehow transported across the border are said to be in high demand.26 More importantly, it is easy to listen to and watch Uzbek radio in such areas as Tashavuz and Turkmenabad (formerly Charjou), areas near Turkmenistan’s border with Uzbekistan where most of Turkmenistan’s Uzbeks live. Although TV picture quality is vastly improved in some of these areas with an antenna, reception is often possible without such a device; moreover, because antennas are not expensive or difficult to obtain, concerts, serials, and other entertainment originating in Uzbekistan seem to enjoy a large audience. DVDs and CDs with Uzbek music and films are also freely available and popular in these regions; though the supply is more limited, Uzbek music is also available at kiosks elsewhere in Turkmenistan, such as in Ashgabat.27 Turkmenistan, unlike Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Kazakhstan, lacks a “national-cultural” center for Uzbeks (or any other Central 23 “ ‘Najot’: etnicheskie uzbeki v Turkmenistane reguliarno podvergaiutsia diskriminatsii,” Independent News Agency Harakat, 11 Sep. 2009, accessed at http://harakat .net/el_news.php?id=3216, accessed 4 Nov. 2009. 24 “Uzbekskoe radio zagovorilo na turkmenskom,” Khronika Turkmenistan, 29 July 2006, http://www.chrono-tm.org/?id=846 accessed 4 Nov. 2009. 25 Nazar Saparov, “Vizit zavershen, problemy ostalis’,” Khronika Turkmenistana 23 March 2008, http://www.chrono-tm.org/?id=894, accessed 4 Nov. 2009. 26 Institut media polisi v Kyrgyzskoi Respublike, “Ob uzbekskikh i turkmenskikkh SMI,” 22 Aug. 2007, accessed www.media.kg?pid-3cid=8nid=211, 4 Nov. 2009. 27 Information on Turkmenistan collected from e-mail communications to author in October 2009.

the fate of uzbek language

229

Asian nationalities).28 In recent years there have been some cultural exchanges between Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan which have, for example, brought Uzbek films and plays to audiences in Turkmenistan. However, these have reportedly not been allowed in regions of Turkmenistan with substantial Uzbek populations.29 It should be also be noted that unlike Central Asian non-titular groups in Kyrgyzstan and Kazakhstan, Uzbeks (and other nonSlavic minorities) in Turkmenistan generally lack access to a variety of domestically produced Russian-language programming or locally transmitted Russian-language media produced abroad. Furthermore, unlike Central Asian minorities in Kyrgyzstan and Kazakhstan (as well as Tajikistan and Uzbekistan), Central Asian minorities in Turkmenistan generally lack opportunities to attend the few schools offering Russian-medium education.30 The virtual disappearance of Uzbek from education and the mass media are a reflection of the strong turkmenization policy of the regime in Ashgabat. Credible reports allege that Uzbeks have been subjected to harsh job discrimination based on ethnic criteria, and some even forcibly resettled to remote regions of Turkmenistan.31 Some citizens of Turkmenistan who were previously registered as Uzbeks have apparently changed their documents to show they are Turkmen.32 This is likely at least part of the explanation of why official Turkmenistan data from 2004 show Uzbeks as comprising only 4.5 percent of the population, i.e., only half the share at the time of the last Soviet census (1989). The fact that large numbers of Uzbeks would choose this step is in itself

28 “Uzbekskie shkoly,” Khronika Turkmenistana, 3 Aug. 2006, http://www.chronotm.org/?id=682, accessed 4 Nov. 2009. The lack of such institutions is, however, disputed on a blog post. See http://www.turkmeniya.info/index.php?option=com _contenttask=viewid=664Itemid=1. 29 Alty, “Pustite uzbekov k uzbekam,” 10 Oct. 2009, http://www.turkmeniya.info /index.php?option=com_contenttask=viewid=664Itemid=1. 30 According to one report, even when Russian-medium schools are available, Uzbeks have been refused permission because such schools were said to be available only to Ukrainians and Koreans (sic) (V. Volkov, D. Nazarov and O. Saryev, “Pritesneniia natsional’nykh menshinstv, Uzbeki protestuiut,” Nemetskaia volna 9 Jan. 2005, http://www.centrasia.ru/newsA.php?st=1105368360). 31 V. Volkov, D. Nazarov and O. Saryev, “Pritesneniia natsional’nykh menshinstv, Uzbeki protestuiut,” Nemetskaia volna 9 Jan. 2005, http://www.centrasia.ru/newsA .php?st=1105368360. 32 “ ‘Najot’: etnicheskie uzbeki v Turkmenistane reguliarno podvergaiutsia diskriminatsii,” Independent News Agency Harakat, 11 Sep. 2009, accessed at http://harakat .net/el_news.php?id=3216, accessed 4 Nov. 2009.

230

william fierman

an indication of the power of Turkmenistan’s regime. Furthermore, the regime’s “success” in eliminating Uzbek schools and publishing is testimony to the authoritarian nature of the political system, which allows no formal or informal institutions to protect those out of favor with the country’s rulers. At least in part thanks to its great fossil-fuel natural wealth, Turkmenistan has been able to ignore foreign criticism of its harsh policies, including questions affecting ethnic minorities. Since the death of Turkmenistan’s first president in 2006 and the accession of Gurbanguly Berdymukhammedov, a few signs of a slight relaxation have appeared with regard to non-Turkmen schools in Turkmenistan. Although the main impact of the moderation seems to be the increase in the number Russian-medium classes and of pupils attending them, Kazakhstan’s President Nazarbayev announced during a visit by Berdymukhammedov to Kazakhstan that Turkmenistan had promised to open a Kazakh-medium school.33 7.4.2. Tajikistan Before proceeding to examine its condition, however, it is appropriate to note two issues concerning the Tajikistan context. First of all, as in the case of Turkmenistan, it is impossible to determine the size of Tajikistan’s Uzbek population. The 1989 Soviet census data purport that Uzbeks comprised approximately 23.5 percent of the total.34 This is far higher than the figure of over 15 percent in the 2000 census. The census data show not only a decline in percentage, but an absolute decline as well, from almost 1.2 million to less than 950,000. Some of the loss is due to changes in the scheme of classification (i.e., some “tribal groups” counted as Uzbeks in 1989 were listed as separate categories in 2000); another part of the drop is attributable to the departure of some Uzbeks from Tajikistan. In addition, however, an unknown number of individuals who in 1989 had claimed to be Uzbeks, finding themselves in an independent country named “Tajikistan,” undoubtedly reported themselves as Tajiks.35 In discussing any

33 “Press-konferentsiia Prezidentov Kazakhstana N. Nazarbaeva i Turkmenistana Gurbanguly Berdymukhammedova,” 28 May 2007, accessed through http://www .centrasia.ru/newsA.php?st=1180429080, 28 Nov. 2009. 34 Mikhail Tul’skii, “Itogi perepisi naseleniia Tadzhikistana 2000 goda: natsional’nyi, vozrastnoi, polovoi, semeinyi i obrazovatel’nyi sostavy,” Demoskop Weekly, Nos. 191192, 21 Feb.-6 Mar. 2005. 35 Richard Rowland, “National and Regional Population Trends in Tajikistan: Results from the Recent Census,” Eurasian Geography and Economics, vol. 46 no. 3

the fate of uzbek language

231

matter relevant to independent Tajikistan, it is also necessary to keep in mind that, alone among the newly independent Central Asian states, Tajikistan endured a civil war. This conflict, which lasted from 1992 until 1997, inflicted a great blow to Tajikistan’s economy, and is one of the underlying reasons for the country’s extreme poverty. Tajikistan is also unique in the Central Asian context in that its state language is not a Turkic language, but rather an Iranian language very close (especially in literary forms) to Dari and Farsi. Although Uzbek has many words “borrowed” from Persian (i.e., they are identical or almost identical in Uzbek and Tajik), Tajik’s grammar is radically different from Uzbek’s, and the order of words in a sentence is generally very different. This fact probably makes communication between monolingual Uzbek and Tajik speakers more difficult than between speakers of Uzbek and Kyrgyz; an Uzbek speaker and a Kyrgyz speaker, whose respective standard languages are quite different from one another phonetically, can nevertheless learn to understand each other rather quickly with some practice. Despite the similarity of vocabulary, this would be more difficult in the case of a monolingual Tajik- and monolingual Uzbek-speaker. Despite this context, the Uzbek language has fared much better in Tajikistan than in Turkmenistan. Data for the total number of schools or pupils studying in the Uzbek language in the entire country are not available; however, data pertaining to Soghd oblast provide insight into the overall picture. There, according to the 2000 census, Uzbeks accounted for 19.1 percent of the population.36 The data for schools in the oblast show that of the total 883 schools in the oblast in academic year 2007–2008, 212 (24 percent) offered instruction only in Uzbek, and another 111 (13 percent) offered both Tajik- and Uzbek-medium instruction. Another 17 schools (2 percent) offered Uzbek-medium instruction along with two other languages (Tajik/Russian, Kyrgyz/ Russian, or Tajik/Kyrgyz). In terms of medium of education, the share of “Uzbek only” schools was higher than the proportion of Uzbeks in the oblast recorded in the census. The share of pupils in “Uzbek only” schools was about 19 percent, roughly equal to the share of the oblast’s population recorded in the census. With an undetermined number

(2005 ), pp. 202-23. As noted above, analogous phenomena have been reported in Turkmenistan. 36 Soghd oblast was the home of 31.3 percent of the total number of “Uzbeks” living in Tajikistan.

232

william fierman

of additional pupils studying in “mixed” schools, the share of pupils educated in the Uzbek medium certainly exceeded the share of Uzbeks in the oblast reported in the census. A number of higher educational institutions in Tajikistan offer Uzbekmedium instruction. Khojand State University has a fakultet devoted specifically to Uzbek language, and most of its other fakultety also have one or two Uzbek groups (depending on the number of Uzbek-speaking students entering that fakultet).37 Tajik State Pedagogical University has a section (otdelenie) of Uzbek language and literature, and according to a statement in 2007 by Tajikistan’s President Rahmon, 1400 students in that university were studying eleven teaching specialties in the Uzbek language.38 At least one other university, the Tajik Agrarian University, accepts students who take entrance exams in Uzbek even though it offers instruction only in Russian and Tajik.39 In contrast to Turkmenistan, there have been high-profile activities in Tajikistan to demonstrate that Tajikistan is offering Uzbek-medium educational opportunities. The September 2007 opening of an Uzbekmedium school in the city of Tursunzoda featured President Rahmon, who highlighted the improving supply of Uzbek-language textbooks published for Tajikistan schools, and the achievements in Uzbekmedium higher education.40 Significantly, the president emphasized that in accordance with Tajikistan’s constitution, every citizen of the country was entitled to education in their native language. He furthermore reminded his audience that it was the command of the Supreme Being.41

37

My thanks to Nasiba Mirpochoeva of Khojand for providing this information. “Vystuplenie Prezidenta Respubliki Tadzhikistan Emomali Rahmona na tseremonii otkrytiia novoi obshcheobrazovatel’noi shkoly v gorode Tursunzade,” 11 Sep. 2007, accessed at www.president.tj/rus/vistupleniy110907.htm#. The website of this university indicates that in addition to philology, three of the other ten fakultety (biology, physics, and foreign languages) also offer instruction to Uzbek groups. (Tadzhikskii gosudarstvennyi pedagogicheskii universitet im S. Ayni, http://www .tgpu.tj/, accessed 7 Nov. 2009.) 39 Tadzhikskii agrarnyi universitet, http://tau.freenet.tj/enter.html accessed 7 Nov. 2009. 40 “Vystuplenie Prezidenta Respubliki Tadzhikistan Emomali Rahmona na tseremonii otkrytiia novoi obshcheobrazovatel’noi shkoly v gorode Tursunzade,” 11 Sep. 2007, accessed at www.president.tj/rus/vistupleniy110907.htm#. 41 He also emphasized that Tajiks and Uzbeks were neighbors, “sharing friendship and kinship.” “Vystuplenie Prezidenta Respubliki Tadzhikistan Emomali Rahmona na tseremonii otkrytiia novoi obshcheobrazovatel’noi shkoly v gorode Tursunzade,” 11 Sep. 2007, accessed at www.president.tj/rus/vistupleniy110907.htm#. 38

the fate of uzbek language

233

While the status of Uzbek in Tajikistan’s educational system is clearly higher than in Turkmenistan, it encounters very serious problems. Critics of Tajikistan’s policies in this area have claimed that Tajikistani Uzbeks are subjected to discrimination, and that Tajik language is being pushed on them aggressively. Some have even accused Tajikistan of “genocide.”42 One Uzbek recounted the work of a commission that had come to inspect an Uzbek-medium school as an example of the aggressive policy: One of the commission’s members took issue with the use of Uzbek even on a bulletin board (stengazeta) devoted to Uzbek literary figures. The following scene supposedly ensued as the commission member allegedly upbraided an Uzbek literature teacher at the school: Commission member [CM] Do you know what country you are living in? Teacher [T] . . . [silence] CM: Didn’t I ask you what country you are living in? T: Tajikistan CM: What language is the state language in Tajikistan? T: Tajik CM: So why is the bulletin board in Uzbek?

After this visit, the school was reportedly obliged to replace the Uzbeklanguage materials with Tajik translations.43 Tajikistan’s poverty has meant inadequate funding for textbooks, teacher salaries, heating and repairing schools. Sometimes parents have not sent their children, especially girls, to school because they (the children) lacked warm clothing and shoes, or because they were needed to help earn a living for the family. In the early years of independence, schools found informal channels to import Uzbek-language textbooks from Uzbekistan, using their own school resources and without any assistance from Uzbekistan.44 However, this became less feasible as Tajikistan’s civil war aggravated that country’s poverty, and as Uzbekistan began to print its textbooks in the Latin script. Furthermore, for certain subjects (especially history or other subjects with 42 A. Zununii, “Spasenie repressiruemykh—delo ruk samikh repressirovannykh?” 14 June 2007 www.centrasia.ru/newsA.php?st=1181817420. 43 Chingiz Boy, “Siz qayerda yashayotganingizni bilasizmi? . . .” Blog on BBCUzbek .com, 14 Oct. 2009, accessed at http://www.bbc.co.uk/uzbek/news/story/2009/10 /091014_small_nations.shtml, accessed 4 Dec. 2009. 44 Olivier Ferrando, “The Education of Minorities: Between State Policy, Ethnic Framing and Individual Strategy,” paper presented at Central Eurasian Studies Society annual conference, Seattle, Oct. 2007.

234

william fierman

explicit and implicit promotion of Uzbekistani patriotism) these books were ideologically unacceptable. Due to the lack of other options, some schools continue to use textbooks published in the Soviet era.45 In recent years Tajikistan has undertaken some steps to address the textbook problem, though funding for education in that country remains very limited. At the beginning of the 2007–2008 school year an announcement hailed the printing of six new textbooks with a total of 215,000 copies.46 It should be kept in mind, though, that this achievement provided an average of less than one textbook per grade level. Furthermore, there are indications that the design and quality of Uzbek textbooks is inferior to those in Tajik.47 The Uzbek-language textbook situation is undoubtedly even more serious in higher education. I have found no evidence that Tajikistan continues to import any higher education textbooks from Uzbekistan where, until quite recently, almost all educational materials in universities and institutes were still published with Cyrillic letters. It is highly unlikely that Tajikistan could afford at this stage to publish Uzbek language materials for universities and institutes. Indeed, instructors of many subjects taught in Tajikistan’s universities in the Tajik language are still obliged to assign their students Russian-language materials because no Tajik translations have been published, or because they are of poor quality.48 In considering availability and enrollment in Uzbek-medium classes in Tajikistan’s educational system, it is important not to assume that all of Tajikistan’s Uzbeks desire education in the Uzbek language. As Olivier Ferrando argues, some Tajikistani Uzbeks express a preference for Tajik-language instruction. In Ferrando’s opinion, parents’ choosing Tajik- over Uzbek-medium education for their children today may simply be a matter of “common sense.”49

45

E-mail communication from Nasiba Mirpochoeva 1 Nov. 2009. “Vystuplenie Prezidenta Respubliki Tadzhikistan Emomali Rahmona na tseremonii otkrytiia novoi obshcheobrazovatel’noi shkoly v gorode Tursunzade,” 11 Sep. 2007, accessed at www.president.tj/rus/vistupleniy110907.htm#. According to an e-mail communication from Nasiba Mirpochoyeva, a new Uzbek-language math textbook was published for 2009 (e-mail of 1 Nov. 2009). 47 See Christopher Whitsel, “Growing Inequality: Post-Soviet Transition and Educational Participation in Tajikistan,” unpublished PhD dissertation, Indiana University, 2009. 48 Whitsel, p. 44. 49 Olivier Ferrando, “The Education of Minorities: Between State Policy, Ethnic Framing and Individual Strategy,” paper presented at Central Eurasian Studies Society annual conference, Seattle, Oct. 2007. 46

the fate of uzbek language

235

For reasons described above, it appears that educational materials produced in independent Uzbekistan occupy a small and decreasing share of those in circulation in Tajikistan. The situation is very different in the case of mass media. Although Uzbek-language mass media are produced within Tajikistan—according to one report “tens of publications and newspapers”50—it appears that media from Uzbekistan are of greater significance, especially in terms of electronic media. Evidence suggests that Uzbek-language media published inside Tajikistan are less important than those which come across the border. There are reportedly only three state-sponsored Uzbek-language newspapers in Tajikistan.51 One of them is Soghd haqiqati, which is published for Soghd Oblast.52 Very limited Uzbeklanguage radio and television programming is produced in Tajikistan. Until 2008 Tajikistan State Radio broadcast only one program a day in Uzbek, a news program. In 2008, however, a new onehour Uzbek program with news, analysis, and cultural features was created; although its primary target audience is Uzbek speakers outside Tajikistan, it is also widely available inside the country.53 It does not appear that any private radio stations regularly broadcast in Uzbek from inside Tajikistan, although many offer their audiences musical performances in Uzbek, as well as Turkish and other languages. One local informant reports that national State television regularly offers only one thirty-minute weekly Uzbek-language broadcast per week; however, a local station in Tursunzoda broadcasts a quarter of its programming in Uzbek.54

50 Farhodi Milod, “Oghozi barrasii tarhi navi Qonuni zabon,” 15 Sep. 2009, accessed at http://www.ozodi.org/content/article/1823221.html, 8 November 2009. 51 Nosirjoni Ma”murzoda, “Tojikiston dar oyinai matbuoti kishvar,” Radioi Ozodi, 6 March 2008, accessed http://www.ozodi.org/content/Tajikistan_press_review/1046413 .html, accessed 8 Nov. 2009. 52 The edition size for Soghd Haqiqati listed on the official Soghd Oblast website is 2200. Other publications listed on the site with names that suggest they are also in Uzbek are Tong (edition between 700 and 1500), Proletar tongi (1710), and Qishloq hayoti (2000–2100). Two other publications which may be in Uzbek have names which make it impossible to determine the language of publication, Mehnat and Zarbdor (“Rasonahoi khabariii chopii violoyat,” website of the Sogd oblast executive committee, http://www.sugd.tj/index.php?option=com_contentview=articleid=256:2009-02-2409-38-30catid=15:2008-11-19-04-39-51Itemid=10, accessed 9 Nov. 2009). 53 A recording of this program is repeated, thus providing fourteen hours of broadcast time in Uzbek. Special thanks for obtaining this information to Abdulfattoh Shafiev. 54 Thanks to A. Shafiev for this information.

236

william fierman

Because of media coming into Tajikistan from Uzbekistan, the above description far understates the availability of Uzbek-language publications and programming in Tajikistan. A spring 2007 report on a temporary ban on importation of publications from Uzbekistan into Soghd Oblast quoted an oblast official who spoke of “on the order of twenty to thirty” periodicals. It is likely that a substantial share of these publications were in Uzbek. The Soghd Oblast ban was said to be necessary because oblast authorities had not been informed how the publications were being brought into Tajikistan, nor who was selling them.55According to another report, the penalty for unauthorized import or sale of printed or electronic materials was to be up to five years of imprisonment.56 It is unclear whether this regulation formally remains in force. However, informants both in Khojand (Soghd Oblast’s capital) and in Dushanbe indicate that today Uzbek-language publications from Uzbekistan are not hard to find. Not long after announcement of the ban on import of periodicals, police in Khojand allegedly began confiscating “Uzbek music” at the central market, claiming the raid was being conducted on direct orders of President Rahmon.57 The frontal attack on “Uzbek music” (i.e., presumably music imported from “Uzbekistan”) seems to have subsided fairly quickly, within a year. Perhaps it is because the leadership of Tajikistan came to recognize quickly the difficulty of preventing distribution of DVDs and CVDs with recordings from Uzbekistan, and that even an effective ban on importing would not stop viewers and 55 Untitled report under rubric “Aktual’no,” 31 May 2007, originally provided by regnum.ru, accessed through Obzor tsentral’noi Azii, http://www.c-asia.org/akt/index .php?cont=longid=2748year=2007today=31month=05. The official cited in this report, an employee of the oblast organization or Tojikmatbuot (Tajik Press) stated that in the future, those supplying and selling the publications would need to receive permission after providing information required by the Tajikistan Ministry of Culture (Natsional’naia Assotsiatsiia nezavisimykh SMI Tadzhikistana, Monitoring narushenii svobody slova v Tadzhikistane v mae 2007 goda, accessed at http://www.nansmit.tj /monitoring/?id=49). 56 S. Khikmatov, “Polnyi khaos, ili absoliutnaia ‘tadzhikizatsiia’ Tadzhikistana, Obzor tsentral’noi Azii 25 Sep. 2007, accessed at http://www.c-asia.org/post/index .php?cont=longid=9938year=2. Although Khikmatov implies the regulations on the press from Uzbekistan affected the entire country, another source refers to the restrictions only in the context of Soghd Oblast (Natsional’naia Assotsiatsiia nezavisimykh SMI Tadzhikistana, Monitoring narushenii svobody slova v Tadzhikistane v mae 2007 goda, accessed at http://www.nansmit.tj/monitoring/?id=49). 57 S. Sanginov, “ ‘Chakmok chakar:’ V Tadzhikistane zapretili pesni na uzbekskom iazyke,” 14 Aug. 2007 accessed on 8 Nov. 2009 at http://www.centrasia.ru/newsA .php?st=1187950860.

the fate of uzbek language

237

listeners near Tajikistan’s borders with Uzbekistan from viewing programs from the neighboring country. This is especially true in parts of some of Tajikistan’s largest cities and nearby areas with large ethnic Uzbek populations—Konibodom, Khojand, and Tursunzoda—where it is possible to watch two Uzbekistan television channels, O’zbekiston and Yoshlar.58 In some cases, audiences in Tajikistan even participate in call-in shows broadcast from the other side of the border.59 In many areas reception is good enough that no special antenna is required. Those living further from the border who have the means sometimes install dishes to watch television from Uzbekistan. Local media inside Tajikistan have warned that the popularity of electronic media from Uzbekistan is a problem. One report illustrating this tells of a school child in one of the border areas where the population often tunes in to Uzbek television. When the school child was asked to name the president of Tajikistan he named Islam Karimov (president of Uzbekistan). Radio from Uzbekistan, presumably in Uzbek, is also said to be very popular.60 Besides radio and television, and whether in violation of import regulations or not, DVDs with Uzbek films and musical clips are very popular items at markets in many places in Tajikistan. It is worth noting that the standard literary Uzbek used in radio and television broadcasts from Uzbekistan is much closer to most of the Uzbek spoken in Tajikistan (and Kyrgyzstan and Kazakhstan) than it is to the dialects used in Turkmenistan. This may contribute to penetration of Uzbekistan’s mass media into Tajikistan (and Kyrgyzstan and Kazakhstan), in a way that it does not contribute in Turkmenistan. 7.4.3. Kyrgyzstan Although Kyrgyzstan did not suffer a civil war, in some important ways the context affecting the Uzbek language in Kyrgyzstan is similar to that in Tajikistan. One important reason may be the approximate share of the two states’ respective Uzbek population. According to official

58 I thank Farruh Yusupov for providing the information on reception of Uzbekistan-based television. 59 Khurshedi Hamdam, “Nigaronii az amniyati fazoi ittilooti” Radioi Ozodi 25 Sep. 2009, http://www.ozodi.org/content/article/1836431.html, accessed on 9 Nov. 2009. 60 See Khurshedi Hamdam, “Nigaronii az amniyati fazoi ittilooti” Radioi Ozodi 25 Sep. 2009, http://www.ozodi.org/content/article/1836431.html, accessed on 9 Nov. 2009.

238

william fierman

data, Uzbeks comprise about 13 to 14 percent of Kyrgyzstan’s population. As in Turkmenistan and Tajikistan the actual size of the Uzbek population is contested: some representatives of the Kyrgyzstan’s Uzbek community claim that the size is in the range of 20 percent.61 In any case, like in Tajikistan, the share of Uzbeks in Kyrgyzstan’s population is much larger than the share in Turkmenistan. Furthermore, unlike in Turkmenistan, the Uzbek populations in both Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan live near densely populated regions in the heart of Uzbekistan (i.e., near heavy concentrations of their co-ethnics speaking something close to the Uzbek literary standard of Uzbekistan’s Ferghana Valley and near Tashkent, Uzbekistan’s capital). Both Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan are poor—much poorer than Turkmenistan—and, also unlike Turkmenistan, their geography makes them both very dependent on Uzbekistan. Geography also makes it much more difficult for authorities in Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan to maintain control over what crosses their borders. The political regimes in both Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan are authoritarian; however, the level of state control of mass media and education in these two countries is far less than in Turkmenistan. One of the most important differences between Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan is the status of the Russian language in the two countries; this inevitably also affects the status of Uzbek. Despite the decline of Russian’s status in both Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan over the last twenty years, Russian legally has enjoyed the status of “official language” in Kyrgyzstan; it is also the language of a much larger Russian ethnic minority in Kyrgyzstan than in Tajikistan (about 10 percent in Kyrgyzstan compared to only 1 to 2 percent in Tajikistan), and is the dominant language for a large share of ethnic Kyrgyz in northern regions of the country. This is not to imply that Russian is unimportant in Tajikistan. It is indeed important there, despite recent moves by Tajikistan’s leader to curtail the domains of use for Russian. Among the key reasons that Russian remains particularly important in Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan (as well as Uzbekistan) is that many of their able-bodied citizens go to Russia (and Kazakhstan) to seek employment, and send back remittances that are critical for the national economy.

61

Alisher Khamidov, “Kak vosstanovit’ uzy doveriia: uzbekskaia obshchina i vlast’ v Kyrgyzstane,” accessed at www.ipp.kg/ru/analysis/294/. This chapter was written before the spring 2010 inter-ethnic violence between Kyrgyz and Uzbeks in southern Kyrgyzstan. Conditions for the Uzbek language in Kyrgyzstan have greatly deteriorated since then.

the fate of uzbek language

239

Like their counterparts in Tajikistan, Uzbek children in post-Soviet Kyrgyzstan have continued to have considerable access to schools and classes with Uzbek-medium instruction. As of 2004–2005, 13.5 percent of Kyrgyzstan’s school children attended Uzbek-medium classes.62 If one accepts official government data that Uzbeks are under 14 percent of the country’s population, it appears that the overwhelming majority of Kyrgyzstan’s Uzbek pupils are in Uzbek-medium classes. Indeed, even if Uzbeks comprise 20 percent of Kyrgyzstan’s population, most Uzbek children still likely attend Uzbek-medium classes. Although the share of pupils in Uzbek schools appears to have remained fairly steady, prominent representatives of Kyrgyzstan’s Uzbek community have complained that the authorities in their country have reduced the number of schools offering Uzbek-medium education.63 As in Tajikistan, graduates of secondary schools in Kyrgyzstan have some options, though limited, to continue their education at the university level in Uzbek groups. One of the institutions where this is possible is the Kyrgyz-Uzbek University in Osh. Some of the students at this institution study in such fields as education, history, political science, Uzbek literature, and journalism in Uzbek.64 The other major institution with Uzbek-language groups is the Friendship of the Peoples University in Jalalabad. In fall 2009, 226 students (out of the total university enrollment of 1,480) were studying in Uzbek. These students were in the fields of education, Uzbek language, and Uzbek literature.65 In the first years after the Soviet collapse Uzbek schools in Kyrgyzstan, like those in Tajikistan, continued through informal channels to obtain books from Uzbekistan.66 However, as in Tajikistan, this became undesirable for ideological reasons, and later unfeasible after Uzbekistan shifted textbook publication to Latin. Leaders of the Uzbek community in Kyrgyzstan have claimed that the “number one problem” in Uzbek schools is textbooks. Not until 2006–2007 did Kyrgyzstan’s Ministry of Education allocate money for

62 F.I. Ryskulueva and E.V. Kazarinova, “O sostoianiii i putiakh razvitiia Kyrgyzskoi Respubliki,” Obrazovanie v SNG. Problemy i perspektivy, no. 1 (Jan.) 2005, accessed Nov. 11, 2009 through http://cis.bsu.by/second.aspx?uid=50type=Article. 63 Abdumomun Mamaraimov, “Voprosy obrazovaniia—predmet dlia obsuzhdeniia, no ne dlia spekuliatsii,” 4 Sep. 2009, http://www.ferghana.ru/article.php?id=6128. 64 Personal e-mail communication from Ilhomjon Abdullaev, 25 Nov. 2009. The situation appears to have changed since 2002 when, according to Ferrando, only the pedagogical faculty offered education in Uzbek. 65 Personal e-mail communication from Jyldyz Aknazarova 25 Nov. 2009. 66 Ferrando, “The Education of Minorities . . .”.

240

william fierman

publishing a textbook for Uzbek-medium schools.67 However, local Uzbek public organizations have been active in this area for a longer time. The Jalalabad branch of the Uzbek National Cultural Center (UNCC) undertook publication activity in 1996, but this stopped in 2000. Meanwhile, in 1998, on the initiative of the UNCC a Center for the Publication of Uzbek-Language Textbooks (CPULT) at the KyrgyzUzbek University in Osh began operation. It started with publication of fifty Uzbek textbooks for the first through fourth grades, and planned to publish another 164 titles for secondary schools, along with 80 methods books for teachers [metodicheskie posobiia] and 38 sets of curricula [uchebnye programmy].68 By 2004 the total print run of Uzbek textbooks produced by this center was 250,000;69 by 2007, this center had published “practically the entire set [komplekt] of textbooks for primary schools.”70 According to Ferrando, tight funding has constrained publication, which the publisher has passed on to parents. The high cost of the books has put the books beyond the means of many families.71 Despite these problems, this center was still operating a decade after its founding.72 Kyrgyzstan education officials have on occasion proudly pointed to data suggesting that the textbook situation for Uzbek schools has in large measure been resolved. For example, an official of the Kyrgyz Ministry of Education claimed that as of 2004, the supply textbooks for Uzbek-medium schools had reached 75.2 percent of need (obespechechennost’ shkol uchebnikami), more than a 5 percent increase over 1999. Indeed, according to the official, the 2004 figure lagged

67 Abdumomun Mamaraimov, “Uzbekskaia obshchestvennost’ Kirgizii pytaetsia samostoiatel’no reshit’ problemy shkol’nogo obrazovaniia,” http://www.ferghana.ru /article.php?id=4983. 68 Data are from a website of the Kyrgyz-Uzbek University. It is not possible to ascertain the date when this was written, but it appears to be no earlier than 2005. (http://www.kuu.kg/struktura-universiteta/Obschie_svedeniya). In any case, it appears that original plans for publication had to be scaled back. A report which appears to have been written in 2003 stated that the center was to have published 150 titles of textbooks by 2005. 69 “OshKUU: Uchebniki dlia shkol ‘. . . Vsiak sushchii v nei iazyk,’” Ekho Osha May, 2004, accessed on 12 Nov. 2009 through www.echoosha.narod.ru/May04/uchebnik .htm. 70 Abdumomun Mamaraimov, “Uzbekskaia obshchestvennost’ Kirgizii pytaetsia samostoiatel’no reshit’ problemy shkol’nogo obrazovaniia,” http://www.ferghana.ru /article.php?id=4983, 16 March 2007. 71 Ferrando, “The Education of Minorities . . .” 72 Personal visit to center, June 2008.

the fate of uzbek language

241

only 8 percent behind the indicator for Kyrgyz schools, 83 percent.73 In fact, in 2006 the governor of Jalalabad Oblast claimed that that Uzbek schools were actually better supplied with textbooks than Kyrgyz schools.74 These claims, however, must be viewed with great skepticism, both in terms of the statistics presented and the quality of the books. As for the numbers, a 2008 report stated that textbooks in Kyrgyz-medium satisfied only 39 percent of need, just over half the figure cited two years previously!75 Whatever the number, the quality of the Uzbek books is also questionable. One member of parliament speaking in 2007 claimed that some of the books still in use in use in Uzbek schools were left over from before independence and so contained not only “the ideology of Uzbekistan, but Soviet ideology as well . . .”76 There is also a quality problem with some of the new textbooks. According to one report, some of the new books issued by CPULT contain mistakes.77 Against the background of overall decline of education in Kyrgyzstan, there is a widespread perception, especially in the north of the country, that Russian-medium schools are superior to both the Kyrgyzand Uzbek-medium ones. Indeed, this perception is probably justified. One of the reasons concerns availability of better textbooks in Russian. This has prompted a number of leaders in Kyrgyzstan’s Uzbek community to suggest that in the current situation, Uzbeks would be better off if much of their education were in Russian. This is the opinion of Kadyrzhan Batyrov, founder and patron of the Friendship of the Peoples University in Jalalabad, someone who has repeatedly spoken

73 F.I. Ryskulueva and E.V. Kazarinova, “O sostoianiii i putiakh razvitiia Kyrgyzskoi Respubliki,” Obrazovanie v SNG. Problemy i perspektivy No. 1 (Jan) 2005, accessed Nov. 11, 2009 through http://cis.bsu.by/second.aspx?uid=50type=Article. 74 Abdumomun Mamaraimov, “Uzbekskaia obshchestvennost’ Kirgizii pytaetsia samostoiatel’no reshit’ problemy shkol’nogo obrazovaniia,” http://www.ferghana.ru /article.php?id=4983. 75 “Pri Ministerstve obrazovaniia i nauki budet sozdan tsentr po sozdaniiu uchebnikov,” Novosti Kyrgyzstana, 7 April 2008, accessed http://www.for.kg/goid .php?id=62098print. 76 A school director, responding to the member of parliament, stated that importation of textbooks from Uzbekistan had ceased “a few years” earlier. Abdumomun Mamaraimov, “Uzbekskaia obshchestvennost’ Kirgizii pytaetsia samostoiatel’no reshit’ problemy shkol’nogo obrazovaniia,” http://www.ferghana.ru/article.php?id=4983, 16 March 2007. 77 Abdumomun Mamaraimov, “Uzbekskaia obshchestvennost’ Kirgizii pytaetsia samostoiatel’no reshit’ problemy shkol’nogo obrazovaniia,” http://www.ferghana.ru /article.php?id=4983, 16 March 2007.

242

william fierman

out on the need to raise the status of Uzbek in Kyrgyzstan. To help promote Russian-medium education for Kyrgyzstan’s Uzbeks, Batyrov has secured support from the government of Russia, which he says is willing to finance a center at his university to prepare teachers (presumably to teach in the Russian language) for Uzbek schools in Kyrgyzstan. Batyrov favors teaching “the basic school subjects” [osnovnye shkol’nye predmety] in Russian, while raising the teaching of Uzbek and Kyrgyz languages as school subjects “to an entirely new level.”78 To those who think he may be adopting a stand unfavorable to his own language he responds, “Our initiatives do not at all mean turning our backs on our own native language. The preservation and development of the Uzbek language will remain one of the main directions of activity both of the Uzbek National Cultural Center and our university.”79 Uzbek language is very prominent in the mass media available in south Kyrgyzstan. However, its prominence owes more to products coming from Uzbekistan than from what is produced inside Kyrgyzstan. Although a number of Uzbek-language newspapers are published inside Kyrgyzstan, their editions are small and some appear only irregularly. O’sh sadosi, which may have the largest circulation and be the most regular, prints only 2,500 copies; and some of the others, such as Mezon, Axborot and DDD have runs of 1,000 or less. In 2009, a new Uzbek-language newspaper named Pozitsiia appeared.80 Even though print media do not move across borders as easily as radio and television signals, Uzbek-language newspapers are brought into Kyrgyzstan from Uzbekistan and are said to be very popular; according to one report this is because they carry television program schedules, jokes, crossword puzzles, and news in Uzbek.81 The electronic media situation with domestically and Uzbekistanproduced broadcasts, is generally parallel to that for newspapers and 78 Abdumomun Mamaraimov, “Voprosy obrazovaniia—predmet dlia obsuzhdeniia, no ne dlia spekuliatsii,” 4 Sep. 2009, http://www.ferghana.ru/article.php?id=6128. 79 Abdumomun Mamaraimov, “Voprosy obrazovaniia—predmet dlia obsuzhdeniia, no ne dlia spekuliatsii,” 4 Sep. 2009, http://www.ferghana.ru/article.php?id=6128. 80 “ ‘Pozitsiia’ o’zbekcha chiqa boshladi,” Ozodlik radiosi 7 May 2009, http://www .ozodlik.org/content/article/1623436.html. For a list of newspapers published in Osh as of March 2008, including Uzbek ones, see “Pechatnye izdaniia,” http://osh.kg/index .php?Itemid=316&id=59&option=com_content&task=view. 81 “Uzbekskii iazyk v Kirgizii: Faktor riska,” Report.kg, 20 May 2009, http://www .report.kg/analitic/269-uzbekskijj-jazyk-v-kirgizii-faktor-riska.html, accessed 11 Nov 2009.

the fate of uzbek language

243

journals; however, Kyrgyzstani Uzbek electronic media seem to be somewhat more successful than printed ones.82 The two most popular channels broadcasting a substantial share of their programming in Uzbek are Osh TV and Mezon TV. As of 2007, the non-Uzbek broadcasts of these stations were mostly or entirely in Russian;83 however, in mid-2008 Kyrgyzstan adopted a law on television and radio broadcasting which mandated that as of some date in the fairly near future, over half of all broadcasts would have to be in Kyrgyz.84 Representatives of stations broadcasting primarily in Russian and/or Uzbek claimed that this would drive them out of business, since there was insufficient Kyrgyz-language programming for viewers to watch, and it would be expensive to produce it quickly in sufficient quantities.85 The channels broadcasting in Uzbek from Uzbekistan are, of course, less under Bishkek’s control than those inside Kyrgyzstan. Moreover, at least in the south of Kyrgyzstan they appear to be much more popular, especially among Uzbeks, than anything broadcast domestically. Three main Uzbekistan channels are said to constantly broadcast Uzbek translations of television serials, which “are fantastically popular, not only in Uzbekistan, but in the south of Kirgizia, even among ethnic Kirgiz. One can tell this from everyday conversations on the street, at work, and at evening social gatherings.” In addition, viewers in various southern areas of Kyrgyzstan can watch oblast television from Uzbekistan’s neighboring cities of Andijan, Ferghana, and Namangan. In some mountainous areas of Kyrgyzstan viewers can watch television channels from Russia and Uzbekistan, but none that are broadcast from within their own country.86 The picture with regard to radio is similar. “The majority of [Kyrgyzstan’s] southerners, regardless of their ethnic membership [prinadlezhnost’], are said to be more familiar with the Uzbek radio stations ‘Ekho doliny,’ ‘Zamin,’

82

This may, however, just reflect a greater popularity of electronic than print media. A. Mamaraimov, “V Kirgizii nabliudaetsia ‘ekspansiia’ uzbekskoi kul’tury. Chto predprimut vlasti?” Ferghana.ru, 24 July 2007 http://www.ferghana.ru/article .php?id=5247, accessed 13 Nov. 2009. 84 “O novykh resheniiakh prezidenta Kirgizii,” DW-World.de, 3 June 2008, accessed at http://www.ferghana.ru/article.php?id=5247 on 13 Nov. 2009. 85 “Kyrgyz Authorities to Cut Uzbek Language Programs,” Ferghana.ru, 13 Aug. 2008, http://enews.ferghana.ru/article.php?id=2446 accessed, 14 Nov. 2009. 86 Despite its Russian name, “Ekho doliny” broadcasts not only in Russian, but Uzbek as well (A. Mamaraimov, “V Kirgizii nabliudaetsia ‘ekspansiia’ uzbekskoi kul’tury. Chto predprimut vlasti?’ Ferghana.ru 24 July 2007 http://www.ferghana.ru /article.php?id=5247, accessed 13 Nov. 2009). 83

244

william fierman

‘Diydor’ and others” than they are with the Kyrgyzstan stations, whose broadcasts are mainly in Russian.87 Uzbek DVDs and CDs are said to enjoy “unprecedented popularity” in the south of Kyrgyzstan, and are sold and rented throughout Kyrgyzstan, even in the north. According to one report, even in Bishkek, where Russian language dominates, the kiosks that rent or sell films “don’t offer customers new Uzbek films to buy as a last choice. [These films] are increasingly squeezing western hits and Russian films out of the market, which come to the region in smaller numbers than the production of ‘Uzbekfilm.’” In the words of the compact disks sellers “on every corner of large and mid-sized towns . . . Kyrgyz people buy Uzbek films as much as Uzbeks do. This is even though all the films from Uzbekistan come in Uzbek [postupaiut na uzbekskom iazyke].”88 This would suggest that even if a significantly larger share of Uzbeks begins to attend schools in Russian, the Uzbek language may be holding its own or expanding its domains in the south of Kyrgyzstan. In the opinion of an ethnic Bashkir journalist in Osh, the Uzbek and Kyrgyz languages are so mixed up in Kyrgyzstan’s south that local Kyrgyz “simply cannot get by without a knowledge of the everyday Uzbek language.”89 It appears that electronic media are playing an important role in the growing knowledge of Uzbek among Kyrgyz, who are said to speak better Uzbek today than five years ago and be more tolerant towards Uzbek, less often insisting that Uzbeks speak in Kyrgyz.90 Despite this reported tolerance, many of my own informal conversations with Kyrgyz in Kyrgyzstan have revealed a sense of alarm about expansion of Uzbek culture and language. Many Kyrgyz are extremely worried by repeated demands that Uzbek be made a state language,

87 A. Mamaraimov, “V Kirgizii nabliudaetsia ‘ekspansiia’ uzbekskoi kul’tury. Chto predprimut vlasti?’ Ferghana.ru 24 July 2007 http://www.ferghana.ru/article .php?id=5247, accessed 13 Nov. 2009. 88 One of the signs of these films’ popularity is said to be the posters with pictures of Uzbek stars “in any kiosk or office supply shop”. (A. Mamaraimov, “V Kirgizii nabliudaetsia ‘ekspansiia’ uzbekskoi kul’tury. Chto predprimut vlasti?’ Ferghana.ru 24 July 2007 http://www.ferghana.ru/article.php?id=5247, accessed 13 Nov. 2009). 89 “Uzbekskii iazyk v Kirgizii: Faktor riska,” Report.kg, 20 May 2009, http://www .report.kg/analitic/269-uzbekskijj-jazyk-v-kirgizii-faktor-riska.html, accessed 11 Nov. 2009. 90 A. Mamaraimov, “V Kirgizii nabliudaetsia ‘ekspansiia’ uzbekskoi kul’tury. Chto predprimut vlasti?” (Ferghana.ru 24 July 2007 http://www.ferghana.ru/article .php?id=5247, accessed 13 Nov. 2009).

the fate of uzbek language

245

at least on a regional basis in Kyrgyzstan.91 Some view the demands, which were openly voiced even before independence,92 as a step towards regional autonomy, one that could eventually lead to Kyrgyzstan’s loss of control over southern regions of the country. In fact, however, as Fumagalli notes, only a small fraction of Kyrgyzstani Uzbeks appear to be attracted by separation, let alone incorporation into the neighboring state of Uzbekistan.93 However, under certain circumstances, a certain political constituency might appropriate a “confrontational frame” to language.94 If this were to happen, language could become an important dimension of struggle and a potent symbol. 7.4.4. Kazakhstan Like Uzbeks in Turkmenistan, Tajikistan, and Kyrgyzstan, Uzbeks of Kazakhstan for the most part inhabit areas of their country immediately contiguous to Uzbekistan. However, the situation of Uzbeks in Kazakhstan is very different from those in the other three countries. One of the reasons is that Kazakhstan’s economy has performed much better than those of other Central Asian states. Another important reason is that in Kazakhstan, Uzbeks constitute a small though growing minority of the country’s total population. In 1989 Uzbeks comprised about 2 percent of Kazakhstan’s population, by 1999 almost 2.5 percent, and in 2008, 2.9 percent.95 Related to this is the fact that another of Kazakhstan’s ethnic minorities—the Russians—far outnumber Kazakhs. Around 90 percent of Kazakhstan’s Uzbeks live in South Kazakhstan Oblast (SKO); most of the rest are in Zhambyl Oblast

91 “Vlasti Kirgizii sozdali karmannoe obshchestvo uzbekov v protivoves Uzbekskomu natsional’no-kul’turnomu tsentry,” Ferghana.ru, 6 Sept. 2006 http://www.ferghana .ru/article.php?id=4578, accessed 14 Nov. 2009. For a discussion of demands see “Mononatsional’noe upravlenie ne opravdalo sebia . . . (k voprosu o meste uzbekskogo iazyka v Kyrgyzstane),” http://www.analitika.org/article.php?story=20060613004734479, accessed 14 Nov. 2009. 92 Eugene Huskey, “The Politics of Language in Kyrgyzstan,” Nationalities Papers vol. 23, no. 3 (Sep. 1995), pp. 558-9. 93 Matteo Fumagalli, “Framing Ethnic Minority Mobilisation in Central Asia: The Case of Uzbeks in Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan,” Europe-Asia Studies vol. 59, no. 4 (June 2007), pp. 582-4. 94 Fumagalli “Framing . . .,” p. 588. This indeed occurred in spring 2010. 95 Qazaqstan Respublikasynyng statistika zhonindegi agenttigi, Qazaqstan Respublikasy khalqynyng ulttyq quramy (Tom 1). Almaty, 2008, pp. 6-8 and Qazaqstan Respublikasynyng statistika zhonindegi agenttigi, Qazaqstannyng demografiyalyq zhylnamalygy, Astana 2008, p. 26. These figures are cited for the beginning of 2008.

246

william fierman

and other oblasts in Kazakhstan’s south. Although Uzbeks comprise almost two-thirds of the population of Sayram Raion96 and over half the population of the town of Turkistan, they represent under 20 percent of the SKO’s total population.97 Available data suggest that most Uzbek children attend Uzbekmedium schools, and that this has remained the case since independence. In 1995–1996, for example, approximately 2.3 percent of all school children in Kazakhstan attended Uzbek-medium classes.98 In 2003 the analogous figure was 2.8 percent;99 Savin provides the figure of 3.1 percent for 2009.100 Without much closer examination, it is impossible to know the quality of the textbooks available for Uzbek-medium primary and secondary schools in Kazakhstan, especially the quality of translation. However, the situation in Kazakhstan appears to be much better than in Kyrgyzstan or Tajikistan. The price list of the publisher Mektep, which produces many of the books for Kazakhstan’s schools, offers 80 titles of textbooks, manuals, workbooks, etc. for the tenth grade of Uzbek schools, and approximately the same number for the eleventh grade.101 Although the cost of production is undoubtedly more per book than for Kazakh or Russian books (printed in much larger runs), the publisher’s pricelist for the Uzbek (and Uyghur) books indicates identical costs for Uzbek (and Russian and Kazakh) versions of

96

“Sayram audany” Qazaqstan ulttyq entsiklopediya, vol. 7, p. 521 (2005). Nurtai Mustafaev, “Osobennosti etnicheskogo sostava naseleniia Kazakhstana,” Demoskop Weekly, nos. 235-236, 20 Feb.–5 March 2006, accessed 3 December 2009 at http://demoscope.ru/weekly/2006/0235/analit09.php. Savin places the share of Uzbeks in the oblast population at 20 percent; however, the 1999 census shows under 17 percent, a figure cited by “Uzbeki Kazakhstana . . .” (Igor’ Savin, “Etnichnost’ kak faktor povsednevnoi zhizni v sel’skikh raionakh Iuzhnogo Kazakhstana,” Neprikosnovennyi zapas, no. 4 (66), 2009, accessed through http://www.centrasia.ru/newsA .php?st=1258925460; “Uzbeki Kazakhstana i kazakhi Uzbekistana. Diaspory—eto khorosho, no ‘topornyi’ podkhod Tashkenta k granitsam—plokho,” Kontinent, 18 Oct. 2002 accessed at www.centrasia.ru/newsA.php?st=1034910480). 98 Data provided by the Kazakhstan Ministry of Education and Science. 99 “Nauka i obrazovanie,” Ofitsial’nyi sayt Prezidenta Respubliki Kazakhstan, http://www.akorda.kz/www/www_akorda_kz.nsf/sections?OpenFormid_doc=0E6CE6 88C288B389462572340019E827lang=ru. 100 Savin qualifies his data saying this refers to “secondary schools supported by the state budget.” Because the number of private schools is very small, we can assume that the figure of 3.1 is close to that for all schools (Etnichnost’ kak faktor . . .). 101 Price list for Mektep Publishers at mektep.kz. The numbers vary slightly between the respective tracks for humanities and math/science, each of which has some unique books of its own. 97

the fate of uzbek language

247

books; thus, production costs do not seem to be passed on to students in a way that disadvantages them relative to their counterparts in Russian- and Kazakh-medium schools.102 Those who study in Uzbek-medium schools suffer some disadvantages if they seek to proceed to higher education. One reason is that available evidence suggests that only one educational institution, the Kazakh-Uzbek Humanitarian University (established in 1999), has ever offered a higher education in the Uzbek language in independent Kazakhstan, and that this has been discontinued.103 Today students completing Uzbek- and other minority-language schools are permitted to take the exam which offers the most direct route to higher education; however, even now it is offered only in Kazakh and Russian.104 Uzbek-language mass media are available in Kazakhstan, both domestically produced and from Uzbekistan. In 1991, as the USSR was collapsing, an official Uzbek-language oblast newspaper was opened in Shymkent (today South Kazakhstan) Oblast.105 Since then, and especially in the last decade, the volume of Uzbek-language mass media

102

A report at the beginning of 2007 referred to an apparently recent meeting between representatives of Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan where the “sides reached agreement” on the exchange of textbooks for Uzbek schools in Kazakhstan and Kazakh schools in Uzbekistan. (“Den’ nezavisimosti Respubliki Kazakhstan,” Official Site of the Embassy of the Republic of Kazakhstan in the Republic of Uzbekistan,” 31 Jan. 2007, accessed at http://kazembassy.uz/press-show-19.html 18 Nov. 2009. If true, this is a very strange development, given that textbooks for Uzbekistan’s Uzbek-medium schools are in a different alphabet from those in Kazakhstan. 103 Personal communication from Shakhnoza Yakubova. 104 A survey referred to in a 2007 report suggests that few Uzbeks or Uyghurs would be likely to take the Kazakh or Russian version of the exam even if permitted, since they recognize their skills in the language of the exam are inferior. (Liubov’ Dobrota, “Tol’ko trinadtsat’ protsentov vypusknikov uzbekskikh shkol Shymkenta vyskazalis’ za uchastie v edinnom natsional’nom testirovanii,” Kazakhstanskaia pravda, 13 March 2007, reproduced http://www.assembly.kz/idea_lang_stat.shtml?f=showtype=31id=14 3763869873). On the other hand, some spokesmen who were calling for the change in regulation said that minority parents and pupils were “not demanding privileges” and were “not afraid” to take the exam in Kazakh or Russian, “despite the fact that they received their education in their native language” (A. Tilivaldi, “Vypuskniki uigurskikh shkol v Kazakhstane lisheny prava uchastiia v edinom natsional’nom testirovanii,” 1 April 2008, Voice of Freedom, accessed through http://www.centrasia.ru /newsA.php?st=1207077540). 105 N. Oka, “Transnationalism As a Threat to State Security? Case Studies on Uighurs and Uzbeks in Kazakhstan,” in Empire, Islam, and Politics in Central Eurasia (Sapporo, Japan: Slavic Research Center, 2007) accessed 18 Nov. 2009 through http:// src-h.slav.hokudai.ac.jp/coe21/publish/no14_ses/14_oka.pdf. p. 354. As Oka also points out, even before this Uzbek-language local papers were printed in Turkestan and in Sairam raion.

248

william fierman

produced in Kazakhstan appears to have increased considerably, reflecting, as Natsuko Ota has noted, “the growing distance” between the Uzbek communities in Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan.106 This phenomenon is also reflected in a 2005 statement by the chairman of a Kazakhstan-based Uzbek cultural center who told Radio Liberty that “in recent years, cultural relations with Uzbekistan have totally ceased.”107 Today a considerable variety of Uzbek print publications appear in Kazakhstan, some with articles in more than one language, and some for special audiences, such as Maktabdosh, which made its debut in 2001 with a target audience of school children.108 Some of the publications have fairly large press runs, such as the oblast paper Janubiy Qozog’iston and the raion paper Sayram oqshomi, with reported editions of 10,000 and 6,318, respectively.109 Kazakhstan Uzbeks also have a state-supported oblast drama theatre (in Sayram) which was established in 2003. Amateur Uzbek literary clubs active in SKO are another indication of the vitality of the Uzbek language on the oblast’s cultural scene.110 Uzbek radio and television broadcasts from inside Kazakhstan are very limited, with programs produced in Sayram and Shymkent. Even this appears to be subject to interruption: a recent reference to an Uzbek-language broadcast on oblast television is said to have stopped (perhaps temporarily) “due to the lack of sponsors.”111 Although only a limited number of Kazakhstan-based radio and television stations provide regular Uzbek-language programming, it appears that media produced inside Uzbekistan have a very large 106

On this, see Oka Natsuko, “Transnationalism . . .” Mehribon, “Qozog’iston o’zbeklari qanday yashayapti?” Ozodlik Radiosi, 3 Oct. 2005, accessed through http://www.ozodlik.org/content/article/1311358.html on 18 Nov. 2009. 108 “V IuKO poiavilas’ novaia gazeta na uzbekskom iazyke,” Kazakhstan Today, 10 May 2001, accessed 18 Nov. 2009 through http://newspaper.kz/art.asp?aid=1105. 109 Data taken from “Gazetter,” accessed at http://ontustik.kz/files-kz/ataposting /222/gazet kaz.doc). Another source provides somewhat different figures on size of editions, i.e., 8,000 for Janubiy Qozog’iston and 7,000 for Sayram sadosi (“SMI Kazakhstana,” http://www.adilsoz.kz/smi/ accessed 18 Nov. 2009). There are also discrepancies between the sources on frequency of publication, but the data in “Gazetter” seem more plausible, namely that these papers are respectively issued twice and once weekly. 110 Mehribon Bekieva, “Janubiy Qozoghistonda an”anaviy ‘Nazm yulduzlari’ anjumani bo’lib o’tdi,” Ferghana.ru, 24 Nov. 2006. http://uzbek.ferghana.ru/article .php?id=671, accessed 18 Nov. 2009. 111 “V IuKO proshel respublikanskii kurultai uzbekkov,” Kazakhstan segodnia, 12 June 2008, accessed through http://www.nomad.su/?a=19-200806130516, 18 Nov. 2009. 107

the fate of uzbek language

249

audience in Kazakhstan. In the areas closest to the border between Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan, it is possible to listen to stations from Tashkent without any special antenna.112 However, even with a fairly inexpensive antenna or dish it is possible to watch programs broadcast from Tashkent in the vicinity of all of major areas of Uzbek settlement in Kazakhstan—Sayram, Shymkent, and Turkistan. DVDs with Uzbek films and music are plentiful at the markets in SKO and, despite the statement cited above regarding attenuation of cultural contacts between Uzbeks in Kazakhstan and those in Uzbekistan, it appears that it is not difficult to find a variety of publications in Shymkent that have been imported from Uzbekistan.113 7.5. Prospects for Uzbek in Education and Media, and Implications for Use in Informal Domains As demonstrated above, the status of Uzbek language in education and media has undergone great change in the “other” former republics of Central Asia. However, the situation in each country is unique, reflecting a particular constellation of geographical, political, economic, social, cultural, and linguistic factors. In this section we will reconsider the trends identified above, with a view to assessing whether things are likely to change, and whether the future trends suggest that Uzbek as a family language in “other” republics of Central Asia might be at risk. 7.5.1. Tajikistan Besides being the poorest former Soviet country in the region, Tajikistan has the most difficult job in disentangling its history and culture from that of Uzbekistan, which in turn seeks to minimize the role of Iranian-speaking peoples’ historical contribution to development in the region. The debates between the two countries based in the region’s history aggravate other disagreements on current political, economic,

112 Indeed, in some villages of Kazakhstan near the border, the only television programming available without a special antenna or other device is from Uzbekistan (“V aulakh, kuda ne dokhodit kazakhskoe televidenie, populiarny uzbekskie telekanaly,” Radio Azattyq, 15 Oct. 2009, accessed at http://rus.azattyq.org/content /Zhinishke_village_TV/1851097.html 19 Nov. 2009. 113 It is unlikely that there is much interest in the publications that carry official news, but publications about music, fashion, and health are likely much more popular. (Local sources reporting by e-mail from Shymkent.)

250

william fierman

and environmental issues.114 In such an atmosphere, large-scale cooperation between the two countries in the field of education is hard to imagine: Tajikistan is unlikely to use Uzbek-language educational materials from Uzbekistan (even if the Uzbek language of Tajikistan should shift to the Latin alphabet), and higher education in Uzbekistan’s universities is unlikely to become widely available for citizens of Tajikistan. Uzbek-medium higher education in Tajikistan will likely continue to suffer even more than Tajik-language higher education. Some parents who aspire for their children to attend universities are bound to consider this in choosing the language of education for their offspring. In some cases, where available, they will choose to send children to a Russian-medium school. Some others, hoping that a solid knowledge of Tajikistan’s state language will offer advantages, will base a decision on what Ferrando terms “common sense” in selecting a Tajik-medium education. At present, however, the benefits of a Tajik-medium education for most Uzbeks probably do not seem very strong. The level of Tajik skills provided by an Uzbek-medium school in Tajikistan, combined with Tajik skills developed from contact in other domains, may be sufficient for many jobs even in areas where Uzbeks live in dispersed fashion among Tajiks. A quarter to a third of Tajikistan’s Uzbeks already have substantial skills in the state language.115 As illustrated above, although textbooks no longer come to Tajikistan from Uzbekistan, mass media, especially in electronic forms, enjoy a large audience in Tajikistan. Distribution of Uzbek CDs and DVDs will likely continue in Tajikistan. Sustained efforts to stop it would certainly fail, and could even backfire by making the forbidden fruit only sweeter. In the USSR, the Russian language displaced other languages in the home among substantial segments of non-Russian populations in urban areas of mixed ethnic populations. This was no doubt due largely

114 On some of the challenges of Tajikistan’s relations with Uzbekistan and other neighbors see Saodat Olimova, Sobir Kurbonov, Grigory Petrov and Zebo Kahhorova, “Regional Cooperation in Central Asia. A View from Tajikistan,” Problems of Economic Transition, vol. 48, no. 9 (Jan. 2006), pp. 6-86. 115 According to Tajikistan census figures, over 30 percent of Uzbeks in Tajikistan claimed to have a good command of Tajik (Richard Rowland, “National and Regional Population Trends in Tajikistan: Results from the Recent Census,” Eurasian Geography and Economics, vol. 46 no. 3 [2005], p. 217).

the fate of uzbek language

251

to the social and economic mobility offered to those who went a long way to become “Soviet men” and “Soviet women,” including linguistic russification. An analogous scenario for language shift seems unlikely in Tajikistan. It would be plausible only over a very long period, in a new economic and political environment, and perhaps accelerated by intermarriage. The benefits to those Uzbeks willing to “tajikify” today are likely of a much smaller magnitude than the benefits of linguistic russification in the USSR. A large share of Tajikistan’s Uzbeks live in areas where their ethnic group is the largest one or a large minority. Consequently, even if Uzbek is excluded from functions which fall under state purview, the language seems likely to maintain a strong position in many informal and even business settings. 7.5.2. Kyrgyzstan Most of the above factors concerning Tajikistan’s Uzbeks also apply to those in Kyrgyzstan. One difference may be that the prestige of the state language is even weaker among Uzbeks in Kyrgyzstan than in Tajikistan, and (not unrelated) its geographic and thematic domains smaller. One of the reasons for the lower prestige is that the literary language Farsi, which Tajiks claim as their own, was widely used as a written language in the region for centuries. Although Kyrgyz claim that ancient Turkic monuments are part of their heritage, prior to the twentieth century, their culture was transmitted almost exclusively in oral fashion. The territorial spread of Farsi, the literary form of Tajik (i.e., including Iran and Afghanistan) is also much larger than that of Kyrgyz.116 Furthermore, Kyrgyz linguists have been much slower in addressing questions of terminology development than their colleagues in Tajikistan; this may be partly because they do not have the option of wholesale importation of vocabulary from a very closely related language, i.e., the Farsi of Iran.117

116

See for comparison the article by Spooner on Persian, this volume. Kazakh, as a language closely related to Kyrgyz with a somewhat more developed set of terminology, could serve as a source of Kyrgyz words. However, Kazakh vocabulary itself is currently in a state of flux, and it is doubtful that many Kyrgyz language planners would welcome this approach. Although Turkey has been very active on the educational scene in Central Asia, there is a sense of resentment among some Central Asians (including in Kyrgyzstan) about Turks who have come to the region and assumed that they are the new “elder brother” for other Turkic speakers. Although theoretically Kyrgyz could borrow vocabulary, for this reason it seems 117

252

william fierman

In this context it is not difficult to understand that some prominent Uzbeks in Kyrgyzstan have used “common sense” to come up with a solution to the school problem that differs from Uzbeks in Tajikistan— i.e., seeking to expand Russian-medium education while maintaining an enriched program in Uzbek language and literature. In Kyrgyzstan, as in Tajikistan, Russian skills are very desirable, among other reasons because they make it easier to find work in Russia or even Kazakhstan. There is no evidence that substantial numbers of Uzbeks are attending Kyrgyz schools. Regardless of how many parents might find opportunities to send their children to Russian-medium schools, the position of Uzbek in the family and neighborhood in the south of Kyrgyzstan seems very strong. Uzbek parents’ disinclination to send their children to Kyrgyz schools may also be related to cultural stereotypes. There is a widespread view among Uzbeks that they are the descendants of ancestors who, among other things, built great cities with spectacular monuments and left a rich written culture. This mindset of cultural superiority may also reduce the attractiveness of Kyrgyz-medium education for Uzbeks. (By contrast, many Uzbeks, especially among the intelligentsia and in the population of Bukhara and Samarkand, recognize Persian’s role in the high culture of civilizations that have lived on the territory of today’s Uzbekistan.) Kyrgyzstan’s relations with Uzbekistan are somewhat better than Tajikistan’s. However, at present it seems highly unlikely that large numbers of Kyrgyzstani Uzbeks would go to Uzbekistan for higher education. Indeed, because of the poor quality and high cost of higher education in Uzbekistan, many Uzbeks come from Uzbekistan to Kyrgyzstan for university studies, some in the institutions offering education in Uzbek; others study in Russian-medium groups. Unless the quality and accessibility of higher education in Uzbekistan changes radically, Uzbek-medium schools in Kyrgyzstan may lose out to Russian-medium ones among parents who want their children to go on to higher education. However, this process does not appear to have taken on a mass character yet. Uzbek popular culture, both domestically produced and (especially) that which enters from Uzbekistan and spreads inside Kyrgyzstan over

unlikely that Kyrgyz language planners would look to modern Turkish as a model or primary source for vocabulary.

the fate of uzbek language

253

the airwaves and through CDs and DVDs, enjoys a large audience. Kyrgyzstan’s mass media are hard pressed to comply with new laws mandating that half of broadcast time be in the state language. In this domain Kyrgyz electronic mass media are in a much weaker position than their counterparts in Tajikistan, where the state language dominates the airwaves. Until and unless the quality of Kyrgyz-language radio and television programming greatly improves, it will not be in a position to compete with Uzbek-language media, especially that coming from Uzbekistan. 7.5.3. Kazakhstan Paradoxically, even though opportunities for Uzbek-medium higher education in Kazakhstan are more limited than in Kyrgyzstan or Tajikistan, it appears that the best Uzbek primary and secondary education outside Uzbekistan is in Kazakhstan. This is almost certainly related to the fact that Kazakhstan is blessed with resources that allow it to invest much more in education than Kyrgyzstan or Tajikistan. Although perhaps only a consequence of the sources I have consulted, it is suggestive that I found no reports of demands for expanded Uzbek-medium higher educational opportunities in Kazakhstan; rather, it appears that the goal for many is not higher education in Uzbek, but the chance to take entrance exams in Russian or Kazakh, and improved pedagogy for teaching Russian and Kazakh languages so as to raise chances for success in university entrance.118 A lack of demand for Uzbek-medium education may also be related to the high status and widespread use of Russian in Kazakhstan. Even today, the majority of Kazakhstan’s students in higher education are in Russian tracks.119 Kazakhstan’s relatively strong economic development has profoundly affected the dynamics of movement between Tashkent and Shymkent, the district capital of the oblast where most Kazakhstani Uzbeks reside. In the early 1990s, when economic reform was producing a lower standard of living for people in Kazakhstan than Uzbekistan, citizens of Kazakhstan would frequently speak of how much better

118 As noted above, until 2009 it was not possible for graduates of schools that were not Russian- or Kazakh-medium to take the ENT. 119 William Fierman, “Language Vitality and Paths to Revival: Contrasting Cases of Azerbaijani and Kazakh,” International Journal of the Sociology of Language, vol. 198 (2009), p. 95.

254

william fierman

life was in Uzbekistan than at home. The situation today is reversed. Instead of people traveling from southern Kazakhstan to Uzbekistan for purchases, the traffic is in the opposite direction, and until very recently (when the economic crisis hit Kazakhstan), has included a large number of guest workers from Uzbekistan. Despite the economic malaise which affects Uzbekistan more than Kazakhstan, most Uzbeks in Kazakhstan are still not choosing to send their children to Kazakh-medium schools. Moreover, because Kazakhlanguage education is likely for some time to continue to be associated with lower quality than Russian-medium training, this seems unlikely to change soon. It is plausible that among the mobility-conscious, a substantial share of Uzbek parents might choose Russian schools. However, given the concentrated settlement of Kazakhstan’s Uzbeks, and the availability of mass education that does not appear markedly inferior to what is available in the state language, a mass move to Kazakh-medium education seems improbable. Furthermore, the availability of Uzbek-language mass media from Uzbekistan, especially in electronic form, appears likely to support the position of Uzbek in southern Kazakhstan. The improved quality and greater quantity of Kazakh-language television and radio in recent years is likely to mean that among Kazakhs in the south of Kazakhstan, Uzbek media will not enjoy the same popularity that it does among Kyrgyz in the south of Kyrgyzstan. As noted above, a widespread stereotype among Uzbeks is that Kazakh (along with Kyrgyz) culture is inferior to their own. Kazakhstan’s relatively strong economic performance may be eroding this perception. Nevertheless, Uzbek ethnic identity in Kazakhstan is quite strong, and language appears to be a major element in it. In view of this and the broader context described above, the position of Uzbek in the home and in Uzbek informal social settings seems secure. 7.5.4. Turkmenistan In some sense, the Turkmenistan case is the easiest of all to assess. As described above, there are no Uzbek-medium classes and no domestically produced Uzbek mass media. The accessibility of Russian-medium education has improved in Turkmenistan in recent years, but this does not seem to imply a shift in the policy towards Uzbek schools. Russian, after all, is a subject officially taught in all schools in Turkmenistan, and is a bridge, among other things, to scientific and technical knowledge and economic opportunities. The same does not apply to Uzbek.

the fate of uzbek language

255

Questions concerning the vitality of Uzbek in other domains in Turkmenistan are more difficult to answer, in part because of the difficulty in obtaining reliable information about what is happening inside Turkmenistan and the remoteness of the region where Uzbeks live from the Uzbekistan heartland. Moreover, not only is Turkmenistan’s “Uzbek” linguistically distant from the dialect of the capital and the literary standard; it is also very close to the “Turkmen” dialect spoken by the neighboring Turkmen population, which is in turn very distinct from the official Teke standard. Tribal and dialect differences (which to a great extent coincide in Turkmenistan) are extremely salient in both social and political spheres today. Consequently, to the extent that linguistic “turkmenization” is taking place among Turkmenistan’s Uzbeks in their areas of great concentration, it may well be to a dialect that still marks them as residents of a particular region in Turkmenistan, a region looked down upon by those in power in the capital city today. All of this would seem to suggest that there are obstacles to linguistic assimilation into the favored form of the state language for Uzbeks living in concentrated fashion near the border with Uzbekistan. Furthermore, because there may be marginal utility in speaking a dialect of Turkmen associated with low prestige, it seems unlikely to displace Uzbek in the home or social settings. It is impossible to determine the effect of Uzbek mass media, which apparently enjoy a broad audience in Turkmenistan. However, given the other factors discussed here, and particularly in light of the unattractive nature of Turkmen radio and television, it would seem that the Uzbek-language mass media, even if in a dialect distant from the local one, might play a significant role in sustaining “Uzbek” in the regions of Tashavuz and Turkmenabad (formerly Charjou). Even if Turkmenistan’s policies in the spheres of education and media continue to deny a domestically provided Uzbek-language alternative to the country’s Uzbeks, Turkmenistan’s Uzbeks may still not move towards a state of bilingualism without diglossia, which could in turn lead towards the disappearance of the Uzbek language in Turkmenistan.120 Some form of Uzbek seems likely to survive in the home and social spheres, though it could become even closer to the local Turkmen dialects. Furthermore, a different form of Uzbek, that used in the mass media coming from Uzbekistan, seems destined to survive for the medium 120 Joshua Fishman, “Bilingualism With or Without Diglossia: Diglossia With or Without Bilingualism,” Journal of Social Issues, vol. 23 (1967).

256

william fierman

term, at least as long as there is reason for audiences in Turkmenistan to tune in to Uzbek mass media. 7.6. Conclusion The prospects for Uzbek in the Turkmenistan, Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Kazakhstan relate to a broader and very contentious question in Central Asia: Do members of Central Asian nationalities as divided and defined by Soviet power live in “their homeland” only if they live in the state which bears their name? Or are they in their “homeland” even if their ethnicity does not match the name of the state, but their ancestors have lived in the same territory for many generations or even centuries? The persistence of the Leninist-Stalinist idea that territory, ethnicity, and language should all coincide incline many Central Asians, especially the titular nationality in each republic, to answer affirmatively to the first statement and negatively to the second. In summer 2008 I had occasion to speak with the akim (mayor) of a town in the south of Kyrgyzstan where a large share of the population is Uzbek. Our conversation centered on questions of domains for various languages. I mentioned to this official that I had noticed that there were no public signs in Uzbek, despite the fact that much of the local population consisted of Uzbeks. I asked him how he would view a situation in which someone in his town opened a restaurant with menus in three languages—Kyrgyz, Russian, and Uzbek. His response was immediate and categorical. “We would close it down,” he answered. When I challenged him, explaining that Uzbeks had lived in this area for many centuries, he insisted that Kyrgyzstan was not their homeland, and that in Kyrgyzstan Uzbeks were only “diasporas.” Analogous feelings are common throughout the region. It is clear that state borders in Central Asia have become very important in shaping the domains of Uzbek language use in the region, particularly through policies affecting education and print media. This applies particularly to the most authoritarian state, Turkmenistan, which not only has overseen the elimination of domestically produced Uzbek-language media, but has made it difficult for citizens and print media to cross the border with Uzbekistan. However, in the age of powerful television antennas and dishes as well as CDs and DVDs, it would be very difficult for even Turkmenistan to prevent people from using “Uzbek” in other spheres. Strict regulations on computers,

the fate of uzbek language

257

players, antennas, and dishes might be effective in the short run, but such measures would be extremely unpopular (not only with Uzbeks) and costly. Even in a state like Turkmenistan, the digital revolution has given individual citizens the opportunity to select media that the powerful leadership would prefer they avoid. Moreover, both in Turkmenistan and the “other” Central Asian states, even where Uzbek might lose ground in the educational domain, technology seems to support its maintenance in certain other areas, including the home. References “Aktual’no,” 31 May 2007, originally provided by regnum.ru, accessed through Obzor tsentral’noi Azii, http://www.c-asia.org/akt/index.php?cont=longid=2748year=2007 today=31month=05. Alty. “Pustite uzbekov k uzbekam,” (blog post) 10 Oct. 2009, http://www.turkmeniya .info/index.php?option=com_contenttask=viewid=664Itemid=1. Bekieva, Mehribon. “Janubiy Qozoghistonda an”anaviy ‘Nazm yulduzlari’ anjumani bo’lib o’tdi,” Ferghana.ru, 24 Nov. 2006, accessed at http://uzbek.ferghana.ru/article .php?id=671, accessed 18 Nov. 2009. Brubaker, Rogers and Frederick Cooper. (2000). “Beyond ‘identity,’” Theory and Society, vol. 29, [Feb. 2000]. Central Intelligence Agency World Factbook. “Turkmenistan,” accessed at https://www .cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/geos/tx.html. Chingiz Boy. “Siz qayerda yashayotganingizni bilasizmi? . . .” Blog on BBCUzbek.com, 14 Oct. 2009, accessed at http://www.bbc.co.uk/uzbek/news/story/2009/10/091014 _small_nations.shtml. “Den’ nezavisimosti Respubliki Kazakhstan.” Official Site of the Embassy of the Republic of Kazakhstan in the Republic of Uzbekistan,” 31 Jan. 2007, accessed at http://kazembassy.uz/press-show-19.html. Dobrota, Liubov’. (2007). “Tol’ko trinadtsat’ protsentov vypusknikov uzbekskikh shkol Shymkenta vyskazalis’ za uchastie v edinnom natsional’nom testirovanii,” Kazakhstanskaia pravda, 13 March 2007, accessed at http://www.assembly.kz/idea _lang_stat.shtml?f=showtype=31id=143763869873). Dunlop, John, Marc Rubin, Lee Schwartz, and David Zaslow (1993). Profiles of Newly Independent States, Joint Economic Committee, Washington, DC: US Government Printing Office, pp. 1094-103. Ferrando, Olivier. (2007). “The Education of Minorities: Between State Policy, Ethnic Framing and Individual Strategy,” paper presented at Central Eurasian Studies Society annual conference, Seattle, Oct. 2007. Fierman, William. (2009). “Language Vitality and Paths to Revival: Contrasting Cases of Azerbaijani and Kazakh,” International Journal of the Sociology of Language, vol. 198, pp. 75-104. Fishman, Joshua. (1967). “Bilingualism With or Without Diglossia: Diglossia With or Without Bilingualism,” Journal of Social Issues, vol. 23, pp. 29-38. ——. (1991). Reversing Language Shift: Theoretical and Empirical Foundations of Assistance to Threatened Languages. Philadelphia: Multilingual Matters. Fumagalli, Matteo. (2007). “Framing Ethnic Minority Mobilisation in Central Asia: The Case of Uzbeks in Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan.” Europe-Asia Studies, vol. 59, no. 4 (June 2007), pp. 567-90.

258

william fierman

“Gazetter,” accessed at http://ontustik.kz/files-kz/ataposting/222/gazet kaz.doc). Goossens, Jan. (1969). Strukturelle Sprachgeographie: Eine Einführung in Methodik und Ergebnisse, Heidelberg, Carl Winter Universitätsverlag, cited by Harold Schiffman on his website http://ccat.sas.upenn.edu/~haroldfs/540/langdial/limburg.html. Hamdam, Khurshedi. “Nigaronii az amniyati fazoi ittilooti,” Radioi Ozodi, 25 Sep. 2009, accessed at http://www.ozodi.org/content/article/1836431.html. Huskey, Eugene. (1995). “The Politics of Language in Kyrgyzstan,” Nationalities Papers vol. 23, no. 3, pp. 549-72. Institut media polisi v Kyrgyzskoi Respublike, “Ob uzbekskikh i turkmenskikkh SMI,” 22 Aug. 2007, accessed at www.media.kg?pid-3cid=8nid=211. Kaiser, Robert J. (1994). The Geography of Nationalism in Russia and the USSR. Princeton: Princeton U. Press. Khamidov, Alisher. “Kak vosstanovit’ uzy doveriia: uzbekskaia obshchina i vlast’ v Kyrgyzstane,” accessed at www.ipp.kg/ru/analysis/294/. Khikmatov, S. “Polnyi khaos, ili absoliutnaia ‘tadzhikizatsiia’ Tadzhikistana, Obzor tsentral’noi Azii, 25 Sep. 2007, accessed at http://www.c-asia.org/post/index .php?cont=longid=9938year=2. “Kyrgyz Authorities to Cut Uzbek Language Programs,” Ferghana.ru, 13 Aug. 2008, accessed at http://enews.ferghana.ru/article.php?id=2446. “Kyrgyzstan,” (2001). Entsiklopediia (Bishkek: Tsentr gosudarstvennogo iazyka i entsiklopedii). Ma”murzoda, Nosirjoni. “Tojikiston dar oyinai matbuoti kishvar,” Radioi Ozodi, 6 March 2008, accessed at http://www.ozodi.org/content/Tajikistan_press_review /1046413.html. Mamaraimov, A. “Uzbekskaia obshchestvennost’ Kirgizii pytaetsia samostoiatel’no reshit’ problemy shkol’nogo obrazovaniia,” 16 March 2007, http://www.ferghana .ru/article.php?id=4983. ——. “V Kirgizii nabliudaetsia ‘ekspansiia’ uzbekskoi kul’tury. Chto predprimut vlasti?’ Ferghana.ru, 24 July 2007, accessed at http://www.ferghana.ru/article.php ?id=5247. ——. “Voprosy obrazovaniia—predmet dlia obsuzhdeniia, no ne dlia spekuliatsii,” Fergana.ru, 4 Sep. 2009, accessed at http://www.ferghana.ru/article.php?id=6128. Milod, Farhodi. “Oghozi barrasii tarhi navi Qonuni zabon,” 15 Sep. 2009, accessed at http://www.ozodi.org/content/article/1823221.html. Mitrokhin, N. and V. Ponomarev. Turkmenistan: Gosudarstvennaia politika i prava cheloveka 1995–1998 (Moscow, 1999). accessed at http://ww2.memo.ru/d/674.html. “Mononatsional’noe upravlenie ne opravdalo sebia . . . (k voprosu o meste uzbekskogo iazyka v Kyrgyzstane,” accessed at http://www.analitika.org/article .php?story=20060613004734479. Mustafaev, Nurtai. “Osobennosti etnicheskogo sostava naseleniia Kazakhstana,” Demoskop Weekly, nos. 235-236, 20 Feb.–5 March 2006, accessed at http://demoscope .ru/weekly/2006/0235/analit09.php. “ ‘Najot’: etnicheskie uzbeki v Turkmenistane reguliarno podvergaiutsia diskriminatsii,” Independent News Agency Harakat, 11 Sep. 2009, accessed at http://harakat .net/el_news.php?id=3216. Natsional’naia Assotsiatsiia nezavisimykh SMI Tadzhikistana, Monitoring narushenii svobody slova v Tadzhikistane v mae 2007 goda, accessed at http://www.nansmit.tj /monitoring/?id=49. Natsuko, Oka. (2007). “Transnationalism As a Threat to State Security? Case Studies on Uighurs and Uzbeks in Kazakhstan,” in Empire, Islam, and Politics in Central Eurasia (Sapporo, Japan: Slavic Research Center) accessed at http://src-h.slav.hokudai .ac.jp/coe21/publish/no14_ses/14_oka.pdf. “Nauka i obrazovanie,” Ofitsial’nyi sayt Prezidenta Respubliki Kazakhstan, accessed at http://www.akorda.kz/www/www_akorda_kz.nsf/sections?OpenFormid_doc=0E 6CE688C288B389462572340019E827lang=ru.

the fate of uzbek language

259

“Novaia informatsiia Goskomstata SSSR,” Vestnik statistiki, No. 12, 1991. “O novykh resheniiakh prezidenta Kirgizii,” DW-World.de, 3 June 2008, accessed at http://www.ferghana.ru/article.php?id=5247 on 13 Nov. 2009. Olimova, Saodat, Sobir Kurbonov, Grigory Petrov and Zebo Kahhorova. (2006). “Regional Cooperation in Central Asia. A View from Tajikistan,” Problems of Economic Transition, vol. 48, no. 9 (Jan. 2006), pp. 6-86. “OshKUU: Uchebniki dlia shkol ‘. . . Vsiak sushchii v nei iazyk,’” Ekho Osha, May 2004, accessed at www.echoosha.narod.ru/May04/uchebnik.htm. “Pechatnye izdaniia,” accessed at http://osh.kg/index.php?Itemid=316id=59option= com_contenttask=view. “ ‘Pozitsiia’ o’zbekcha chiqa boshladi,” Ozodlik radiosi, 7 May 2009, accessed at http:// www.ozodlik.org/content/article/1623436.html. “Press-konferentsiia Prezidentov Kazakhstana N. Nazarbaeva i Turkmenistana Gurbanguly Berdymukhammedova,” 28 May 2007, accessed at http://www.centrasia .ru/newsA.php?st=1180429080. “Pri Ministerstve obrazovaniia i nauki budet sozdan tsentr po sozdaniiu uchebnikov,” Novosti Kyrgyzstana, 7 April 2008, accessed at http://www.for.kg/goid.php?id= 62098print. Qazaqstan Respublikasynyng statistika zhonindegi agenttigi. (2000). Qazaqstan Respublikasy khalqynyng ulttyq quramy (Tom 1). Almaty. Qazaqstan Respublikasynyng statistika zhonindegi agenttigi. (2008). Qazaqstannyng demografiyalyq zhylnamalygy, Astana, 2008. “Rasonahoi khabariii chopii violoyat,” website of the Sogd oblast executive committee, accessed at http://www.sugd.tj/index.php?option=com_contentview=articleid= 256:2009-02-24-09-38-30catid=15:2008-11-19-04-39-51Itemid=10. Rowland, Richard. (2005). “National and Regional Population Trends in Tajikistan: Results from the Recent Census,” Eurasian Geography and Economics, vol. 46, no. 3, pp. 202-23. Ryskulueva, F.I. and E.V. Kazarinova. (2005). “O sostoianiii i putiakh razvitiia Kyrgyzskoi Respubliki,” Obrazovanie v SNG. Problemy i perspektivy no. 1 (Jan.) 2005, accessed at http://cis.bsu.by/second.aspx?uid=50type=Article. SMI Kazakhstana, accessed at http://www.adilsoz.kz/smi/. Sanginov, S. “ ‘Chakmok chakar:’ V Tadzhikistane zapretili pesni na uzbekskom iazyke,” 14 Aug. 2007 accessed at http://www.centrasia.ru/newsA.php?st=1187950860 8 Nov. 2009. Saparov, Nazar. “Vizit zavershen, problemy ostalis,’” Khronika Turkmenistana, 23 March 2008, accessed at http://www.chrono-tm.org/?id=894. Savin, Igor’. “Etnichnost’ kak faktor povsednevnoi zhizni v sel’skikh raionakh Iuzhnogo Kazakhstana,” Neprikosnovennyi zapas, no. 4 (66), 2009, accessed at http://www.centrasia.ru/newsA.php?st=1258925460 28 Nov. 2009. “Sayram audany” Qazaqstan ulttyq entsiklopediya (2005). vol. 7, p. 521. “SMI Kazakhstana,” accessed at http://adilsoz.kz/smi/. “Sotrudnichestvo mezhdu Respublikoi Kazakhstan i Turkmenistanom v oblasti obrazovaniia i nauki, no date, accessed at http://www.edu.gov.kz/index.php?id=rk_and _turkmenistanL=1. Szporluk, Roman. (1986). “The Press and Soviet Nationalities: The Party Resolution of 1975 and its Implementation,” Nationalities Papers, vol. 14, pp. 47-64. Tadzhikskii agrarnyi universitet, accessed at http://tau.freenet.tj/enter.html. Tilivaldi, A. “Vypuskniki uigurskikh shkol v Kazakhstane lisheny prava uchastiia v edinom natsional’nom testirovanii,” 1 April 2008, Voice of Freedom, accessed at http://www.centrasia.ru/newsA.php?st=1207077540. Tul’skii, Mikhail. (2005). “Itogi perepisi naseleniia Tadzhikistana 2000goda: natsional’nyi, vozrastnoi, polovoi, semeinyi i obrazovatel’nyi sostavy,” Demoskop Weekly, Nos. 191-192, 21 Feb.–6 Mar. 2005.

260

william fierman

“Twilight Existence for Uzbek Illegals,” Institute for War Peace Reporting, (RCA No. 530), 7 Feb. 2008, accessed at http://iwpr.net/?p=rcas=fo=342550apc_state=henh on 24 Nov. 2009. “Uzbeki Kazakhstana i kazakhi Uzbekistana. Diaspory—eto khorosho, no ‘topornyi’ podkhod Tashkenta k granitsam—plokho,” Kontinent, 18 Oct. 2002 accessed at www.centrasia.ru/newsA.php?st=1034910480. “Uzbekskie shkoly,” Khronika Turkmenistana, 3 Aug. 2006, accessed at http://www .chrono-tm.org/?id=682. “Uzbekskii iazyk v Kirgizii: Faktor riska,” Report.kg, 20 May 2009, accessed at http:// www.report.kg/analitic/269-uzbekskijj-jazyk-v-kirgizii-faktor-riska.html. “Uzbekskoe radio zagovorilo na turkmenskom,” Khronika Turkmenistan, 29 July 2006, accessed at http://www.chrono-tm.org/?id=846 accessed 4 Nov. 2009. “V aulakh, kuda ne dokhodit kazakhskoe televidenie, populiarny uzbekskie telekanaly,” Radio Azattyq 15 Oct. 2009, accessed at http://rus.azattyq.org/content /Zhinishke_village_TV/1851097.html. “V IuKO poiavilas’ novaia gazeta na uzbekskom iazyke,” Kazakhstan Today, 10 May 2001, accessed at http://newspaper.kz/art.asp?aid=1105. “V IuKO proshel respublikanskii kurultai uzbekkov,” Kazakhstan segodnia, 12 June 2008, accessed at http://www.nomad.su/?a=19-200806130516. “Vlasti Kirgizii sozdali karmannoe obshchestvo uzbekov v protivoves Uzbekskomu natsional’no-kul’turnomu tsentry,” Ferghana.ru, 6 Sep. 2006, accessed at http:// www.ferghana.ru/article.php?id=4578. Volkov, V. and D. Nazarov, O. Saryev. “Pritesneniia natsional’nykh menshinstv, Uzbekii protestuiut,” Nemetskaia volna, 9 Jan. 2005, accessed at http://www.centrasia.ru /newsA.php?st=1105368360. Vsesoiuznaia knizhnaia palata. Letopis’ periodicheskikh i prodolzhaiuishchikhsia izdanii 1971–1975. Chast’ II. Gazety. (items 3043, 3058, 3062, 3136). “Vystuplenie Prezidenta Respubliki Tadzhikistan Emomali Rahmona na tseremonii otkrytiia novoi obshcheobrazovatel’noi shkoly v gorode Tursunzade,” 11 Sep. 2007, accessed at www.president.tj/rus/vistupleniy110907.htm#. Whitsel, Christopher. (2009). “Growing Inequality: Post-Soviet Transition and Educational Participation in Tajikistan,” unpublished PhD dissertation, Indiana University. Zununii, A. “Spasenie repressiruemykh—delo ruk samikh repressirovannykh?” 14 June 2007, accessed at www.centrasia.ru/newsA.php?st=1181817420.

SECTION III

THE NORTHWEST FRONTIER PROVINCE AND PASHTO, PUNJABI, AND BALOCHI

CHAPTER EIGHT

PASHTO LANGUAGE POLICY AND PRACTICE IN THE NORTH WEST FRONTIER PROVINCE Robert Nichols Pashto is a regional language spoken by ethnic Pashtuns in Afghanistan, 38-44% of an estimated 28.7 million Afghan inhabitants, by 70% of the population of Pakistan’s North West Frontier Province, and by almost all the residents of Pakistan’s Federally Administered Tribal Areas along the Afghan border.1 Pashto, closely identified with ethnic Pashtuns, has always (co-)existed within wider linguistic spheres influenced by Persian and important South Asian languages.2 This paper discusses modern (c. 1850-2000) choices made by state and social actors in Afghanistan, in colonial India, and in post-colonial Pakistan as governments and communities negotiated official and informal language policies about language status and use and the rights of speakers. In Schiffman’s discussion, the “term language policy here refers, briefly, to the policy of a society in the area of linguistic communicationthat is, the set of positions, principles and decisions reflecting that community’s relationships to its verbal repertoire and communication potential.”3 Over time, changing historical conditions raised and lowered the value of Pashto language acquisition and use in specific social and political domains. Useful academic and critical studies of regional languages emerged from nineteenth century colonial era scholarship that assembled

1 There are only unofficial estimates for the current (c. 2004) population of Afghanistan, with the Pashtun ethnic population estimated at 38-44% of 28.7 million Afghans by the U.S. State Department. Many non-Pashtun Afghans also speak Pashto. Estimates for Pakistan in the NWFP and FATA (“about 16-17 million people”) are from Tariq Rahman, Language, Education, and Culture, (Karachi: Oxford University Press, 1999), p. 284. Swat State was a small princely state located just north of the NWFP and east of Afghanistan. 2 In Afghanistan, Dari (“Afghan Persian”) is the second major language, among many other languages. 3 Harold F. Schiffman, Linguistic Culture and Language Policy, Routledge, 1996, p. 3.

264

robert nichols

dictionaries and grammars, and translated selected historical and cultural texts. Raverty’s lifetime of work on Pashto language and literature situated the centuries-old production of Pashto language texts within a wider Persian and South Asian cultural influence and context.4 Raverty also recognized the political dimensions of state patronage or neglect of regional languages. Early twentieth century western academics used colonial networks to make quick surveys of regional languages, including Pashto. In 1929 Georg Morgenstierne made a second “linguistic mission to the Borderland of North-Western India” where he “continued to collect linguistic information from the region I had visited in 1924,” consciously “building on the foundation laid by the Linguistic Survey of India and other previous sources” (Morgenstierne, 1932: Preface). Morgenstierne recognized the need for “more concentrated study” of quickly surveyed “languages and dialects,” hoping “it will be possible to produce some kind of linguistic atlas of this region before it is too late.” With the end of the colonial period in 1947, new Pakistani “national” agendas shaped language policies and formalized decisions about the status and domains of key languages. The government also provided university research bases for scholars, including chairs in linguistics and the Pashto Academy at the University of Peshawar. This paper concentrates on a limited discussion of contemporary regional language policy-making and use, and fully acknowledges various debts of perspective and analysis to the comprehensive historical and postcolonial linguistics research of Tariq Rahman (1996, 1998, 2002). In Schiffman’s terms, through the nineteenth and twentieth centuries in the region under study state policies about language support and use became increasingly “overt,” “promotive,” and “restricted,” typically in selective patronage of languages thought to facilitate political integration.5 In early twentieth century Afghanistan, this meant an increased official recognition of Pashto. In early twentieth century Swat State this involved the formal employment of Pashto as the language of administration. Conversely, in the NWFP of British India and in postcolonial Pakistan this often meant a marginalization of Pashto, now analyzed as an ethnic and cultural threat to the political 4

See Bibliography for Raverty references. See full discussion and definitions in Schiffman, 1996, especially Chapter 1, “Introduction” and Chapter 2, “Typologies of multilingualism and typologies of language policy.” 5

pashto language policy and practice

265

consolidation of the state, a process that emphasized Urdu as a state or “national” language. In linguistic terms, in the NWFP, Pashto would suffer in an inferior, “extended” diglossic language situation as colonial and postcolonial authorities patronized other highly valued languages (Urdu, English) in formal domains of administration and education.6 As suggested above, in historical terms Pashto language policies may be discussed spatially (Afghanistan, Pakistan’s NWFP after 1901, and Swat State, 1926–1969)7 and temporally (Afghanistan in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, the British colonial period in the NWFP 1849–1947, and the NWFP after Pakistan’s independence in 1947). After some historical review and context, this essay focuses on current language policy and practice in the contemporary NWFP. Persian was widely used as the language of the elite rulers and administration in much of Central Asia and South Asia during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Under Akbar, the Mughal emperor in India (ruled 1556–1605), Persian served as the language of literature and record from Kabul across north India to Bengal. Yet in the Peshawar region Raverty noted that by the end of the sixteenth century competitive religious polemics were being composed in the Pashto language, including Bayazid Ansari’s Khair ul Bayan and Akhund Darweza’s Makhzan.8 In 1860 Raverty also observed that in Afghanistan if Persian was the official language of correspondence, still “in the dwelling of the Amir, Dost Muhammad Khan, at the present day, Pushto is always spoken” (Raverty 1860: footnote p. xiii). This diglossic relationship between the written Persian of official administration and the spoken Pashto of the royal household (and local religious polemics) reflected, at the very least, differences of function and prestige. Centuries of the use of Persian as a administrative and high cultural textual language in Central Asia, Afghanistan, and parts of northern India suggested that the language of state at the Kabul court was patronized in a promotive, overt policy sense for administrative use, as well as in a high status role as a language of court poets and elite literature. The Persian relationship to Pashto in 6 See discussion of the Fishman “extended diglossia” development of the earlier concept of diglossia in Fishman, 1967 and references in Schiffman, 1996, pp. 13, 15, 28. 7 Swat State was fully incorporated into Pakistan in 1969. See F. Barth and Miangul Jahanzeb (1988). 8 Peshawar city was and is the leading urban area of the NWFP. See the Introductory Remarks, Raverty (1860: x).

266

robert nichols

Afghanistan, diglossic yet co-existing in terms of relative tolerance and unrestricted usage, eventually would evolve towards more balanced political patronage. In north India British imperial conquest would change both the language of administration and any notions of official linguistic tolerance or equity. The British conquered the districts that would come to be known as the North-West Frontier Province districts in 1849 when the greater Punjab kingdom of the Sikhs was occupied. In these Pashtun ethnic majority districts colonial policy replaced Persian with Urdu in the courts and revenue offices. This was partially for administrative efficiency, as trained judicial, revenue, and other “native” staff could be easily transferred into the newly acquired districts. But the Urdu decision also was deliberately taken as one method to better integrate the districts into a British colonial sphere at the expense of any Afghan sympathies (Rahman 1998: 136-7). After the colonial occupation in 1849, educational institutions were surveyed. In reports from the 1854–1856 period the British totaled 198 “Indigenous schools” with 1,128 students in districts of the “Peshawar Division” (population 296,364) of the Punjab (Leitner 1882: 165). The British recorded a variety of types of local schools. One survey listed the “maktab” or “place of writing”, as a “Persian” school that might teach a variety of subjects. The “madrasa” or “place of learning, was an “Arabic school” of heavily religious instruction. There were also more intellectually advanced “Koran schools.” Hindu and “Gurmukhi” schools existed, with the latter offering basic skills for future merchants and traders. “Urdu, which we imported, did not boast of a single school on our advent” (Leitner 1882: 46). After 1849, in both Afghanistan under ruling dynasties and in the trans-Indus districts that became the NWFP, the politically powerful now neglected the Pashto language to cultivate “languages of command” and high culture (Cohn 1996). Only a handful of British officers were encouraged, or attempted, to study Pashto to directly command Pashtun troops. One view summarizing regional language policy as a state-building technique was written in 1882: At present English education among Punjabis is little better than a forced exotic, ready to wither under the influences of practical life. The great and immediate object for attainment is the imparting of sound elementary knowledge in the vernacular form. Let the mass of people be taught the plain elements of our knowledge in their own language. This is the first thing, and this, it is hoped, can be done in the present

pashto language policy and practice

267

age of translating. No pains will be spared to establish depots of vernacular books for the Punjab. The chief language to be used is the Urdu with the Persian character. The use of this tongue is rapidly spreading among all ranks, and is becoming more than a lingua franca . . . (Leitner 1882: 167).9

By the early twentieth century, in addition to the British, Pashtun nationalists also recognized that the advocacy of the Pashto language was a potential territorial and cultural identity marker that could threaten colonial hierarchies. In the 1920s, in contrast to Raverty’s 1860 comment, the NWFP Pakhtun nationalist Abdul Gaffar Khan wrote that he scolded the Afghan king Amanullah Khan for not knowing Pashto (Rahman 1998: 134). Uniquely, in the semi-autonomous Swat State (1926–1969) north of the Peshawar valley, Pashto was made the language of administration by the local Pashto-speaking dynasty to facilitate popular interaction with the state. After the decolonization of British India in 1947 increasing nationstate consciousness in Afghanistan, especially in relation to independent Pakistan, led to a new Afghan emphasis on Pashto. By the 1950s Afghan polemics developed about former British colonial areas that might compose part of a general “Pashtunistan.”10 In response and contrast, in Pakistan advocates of Pashto language and Pakhtun culture were suspected, and persecuted, by Muslim League politicians who valued a unified Pakistani national identity integrated through the use of the Urdu language and Islamic “ideology.” Through the remainder of the twentieth century, the use of Pashto in education continued as a complex, politicized issue. After 1947 Pashto typically was offered as an NWFP school subject of study, but rarely as an official medium of instruction. The 1998 NWFP census noted that perhaps 73.9% of the population spoke Pashto. Yet for “national” reasons the language of instruction promoted in NWFP government schools was Urdu and, in elite and private schools, English. Reflecting a complex socio-linguistic dynamic, English medium government and private schools for the most privileged families acknowledged the reality that international language skills trumped “national” language competency. Pashto literacy remained a low priority for provincial and national education ministries. Only in 1984 was Pashto officially sanctioned 9

Italics found in the original. For discussion of the Pashtunistan issue, see Dupree (1980: pp. 538-54) and Roberts (2004). 10

268

robert nichols

as the medium of instruction for select NWFP schools for primary grades 1-4 (Rahman 1998: 149). The evolution of recent national language policies continued, including a December 2003 announcement that English would be compulsory from class one.11 In Afghanistan, meanwhile, Dari(Afghan Persian) and Pashto were named official languages in the 2003 Constitution, though regional languages were to be acknowledged in home provinces. By 2004 many in the NWFP, especially those concerned with public or personal education, regarded Pashto as a failing and fading language, a language of low status and limited possibilities. Competition in schools from national and transnational languages continued to push formal study of Pashto reading, writing, and literature into the background. “Perhaps because of the devaluation of Pashto in the domains of power, ordinary people felt it could not be used by them” (Rahman 1998: 150). The earlier diglossic relationship between superior written languages (Persian, Urdu, and English) and spoken (rarely written) Pashto had not been fundamentally transformed after 1947. Instead, the use of Pashto as a textual language remained undeveloped and neglected. Ironically, Pashto use in educational institutions was indirectly boosted as Pakistan policy in the 1980s determined to subsidize hundreds of religious madrasas in the NWFP as one response to the 1979 Soviet invasion of Afghanistan and the displacement of millions of Afghan refugees to the NWFP (Malik 1996). This indirectly secured the use of Pashto as a language of explanation and instruction, though typically for students of comparatively low economic and social status (Rahman 2002: 373). Less frequently, the informal use of Pashto for explanation occurred even in elite, state institutions. In graduate-level classes at the English medium University of Peshawar in the mid1990s professor-led discussions of assigned readings were observed occasionally shifting to Pashto for a sentence or two as required for clarification. At lower level, lower status educational institutions, including many non-state supported English medium academies and technological institutes, less language proficient instructors and students might engage in even more frequent Pashto language classroom interpolations. By 2004 religious madrasas in the NWFP continued to teach mainly Pashtun students, often using Arabic and Persian language texts with

11

For further discussion of the problem, see Mansoor (2004).

pashto language policy and practice

269

Pashto used for discussion.12 Many madrasas in the Peshawar valley and Pakistan continued to be led by political activists, including those who had educated many of the Afghan Taliban leadership. These schools had also often educated, and now supported, candidates of the six-party Islamist MMA alliance that dominated NWFP provincial politics after the elections of October 2002. This madrasa dynamic continued even as regular government schools struggled to provide minimal instruction in a country of high illiteracy rates for the poor. Perhaps 32.6% of 140 million lived below the poverty line, with 47.1% literacy in 2000.13 And, in a country of increasingly “polarized education,”14 tuition-charging private schools and exclusive government schools and cadet colleges offered English medium education to children of the wealthy and the civil and military elite. These relatively few elite students, if envied by an “Urdu protoelite” (Rahman 1999: 89), could envision and often would achieve international ambitions of higher education and employment. The state of Pashto education in Pakistan in 2004 may be surveyed through basic analysis of pedagogical materials used to teach students in primary grades (1-5) and upper grades (6-10) leading to matriculation.15 The following pages discuss the publication rates for each class year, the authors employed to write each volume, and the lesson content of the textbooks published for grades one through eight. The details offered insight into the scale of Pashto teaching in NWFP language classes. They also revealed something of the local and national social and cultural politics that shaped Pashto instruction in recent years. The diglossic, inferior status of Pashto was confirmed, even as a language less valued was used to shape a domain of religious sensibility, especially through “a large number of ideological lessons” (Rahman 2002: 376). Since independence in Pakistan regulation of the language and content of textbooks in the NWFP has continued as a subject of political debate and polemic. On July 24, 2004, in the NWFP, the

12 Tariq Rahman notes in Pakistan in 2002, there were perhaps 10,000 madrasas having 1.7 million students. Dawn, July 20, 2004, “Pakistan Review” section, p. XVII. 13 Mansoor (2004: 62). Zobeida Jalal, Federal Minister for Education, claimed the literacy rate had risen to 55% in July 2004. News, July 30, 2004, p. 11. 14 “Polarized education” was the title of Rahman’s July 20, 2004 Dawn newspaper article. 15 Ten grades led to the Matric. Two more years earned an Intermediate, FA or FSc degree. A four-year BA Graduation program might follow, leading to Masters and PhD possibilities.

270

robert nichols

“Provincial Education Commission . . . completed its report regarding anti-Islam and anti-ideology of Pakistan material in all the textbooks for class I to 12th.”16 By 2004 the NWFP Textbook Board had published a uniform series of paperback Pashto class textbooks for grades one through ten. Textbook writing across Pakistan was closely supervised and approved. “When the book has been published, it is prescribed by the Provincial Government as the ‘sole textbook’ for the relevant class in all the schools of the province” (Aziz 1993: 1). In format, the Pashto books were literary rather than concerned with grammar, math, or science lessons. After initial script writing lessons, Pashto verse and essays filled the ninety to 100-odd page textbooks with lessons that rarely exceeded four or five pages. The books were critical for several reasons: In every country the textbook is the primary implement of education at the school and pre-university stages of instruction. In Pakistan it is the only instrument of imparting education on all levels, because the teacher and lecturer don’t teach or lecture but repeat what it contains and the student is encouraged or simply ordered to memorize its contents. Further, for the young student the textbook is the most important book in his little world; he is forced to buy it, he carries it to the classroom every day, he has it open before him when the teacher is teaching, he is asked to learn portions of it by rote, and he is graded by the quantity of its contents that he can regurgitate (Aziz 1993: 1).

Evidence from the paperback books themselves suggested several conclusions. Pashto language instruction rapidly declined in number of pupils as student cohorts rose through the educational system. There was a shift in the intended audience for the books as over several years a lower level element of gender balanced, modernist-technological pedagogy in the early materials diminished. Finally, the social order intended for reproduction through the lesson contents of the textbooks was shaped, at minimum, by standard themes of “Pakistan Studies” and “Islamiyat” curricula developed by national education authorities. A critical question was the extent to which an increasingly conservative cultural agenda gained predominance in the sequence of the upper level textbooks.

16

The News, July 26, 2004, p. 15.

pashto language policy and practice

271

The potential population base for Pashto language instruction included perhaps 70-75% of the 17,555,000 residents of the NWFP, 99% of the 3,138,000 residents of the Federally Administered Tribal Areas along the Pakistan-Afghanistan border, and millions more in Baluchistan Province just south of the NWFP.17 Tariq Rahman estimated that in 1999 there were 10,731 “Pushto-medium primary schools” in Pakistan of the 169,089 government primary schools in the country.18 Yet there was a persistently low national literacy rate (51% in Sindh Province, 36% in Baluchistan Province) with much lower rates for women (historically, single digit rates for women in some FATA areas). School attendance rates were low as well. Primary enrollment rates nominally ranged from 75% in the Punjab to 64% in Baluchistan. Factors blamed for low attendance included poverty, lack of state investment in education and teachers, cultural restrictions on education for women, and reliance on child labor. Nationally, “As a result, at present 70 per cent children are enrolled in schools but about 50 per cent of these enrolled children drop out at the primary level.”19 The lowest attendance was in the FATA regions of the NWFP. Contributing to the shrinking of the student pool for Pashto instruction were common parental preferences that children in school gain Urdu and English competency rather than Pashto literary skills. This was to maximize future employment chances and social mobility. Top government work remained heavily dependent on English language correspondence and files. And Urdu continued as a minimum qualification for desirable higher and lower level government service.20 The consequences for enrollments in Pashto language courses were apparent as student class cohorts moved from lower primary-level classes to upper-level classes leading to a tenth-year matriculation certificate. Press run numbers of textbooks for each grade revealed

17

1998 census numbers, The News, July 22, 2004, p. 12. Dawn, July 20, 2004, Pakistan Review, p. XVII. 19 Statistics and quotation are from the News, August 1, 2004, Special Report, p. 25. The quotation is from Dr. Nasim Ashraf, National Commission on Human Development, Pakistan. 20 The tension between NWFP administrative traditions of English use and pressures from populist politicians and perhaps allied lower status government workers with greater Urdu skills (Rahman’s “Urdu proto-elite”) resulted in a memo that circulated through NWFP offices in summer 2004. It announced that official correspondence was now to be written in Urdu. The memo was written in English. 18

272

robert nichols

rapidly diminishing enrollments for Pashto classes.21 Efforts towards Pashto instruction on a wide scale were effectively ended after the first five years. The first volume (“lower first”) of the current two volume first-year Pashto textbook set Pakhto Ka-aida’h (“Pakhto System”) was published in an edition of 400,000 copies. This book introduced the script and some basic vocabulary often linked with pictures of common personal, family, and household subjects. The second volume (“higher first”) of the current first year set, Pakhto Dars Kitab (“Pakhto Class Book”), had a press run of 120,000 copies. Projected enrollments in primary level Pashto classes remained relatively high. The second-year textbook, Da Pakhto Nuway Kitab (“New Book of Pakhto”) and the third-year (Dreyum Jamiat) book, Zma Da Pakhto Nuway Kitab (“My New Book of Pakhto”) each had 240,000 copy printings. The fourth-year textbook, Zma Da Pakhto Kitab (“My Book of Pakhto”) had a 120,000 copy press run. The fifth-year book, again titled Zma Da Pakhto Kitab (“My Book of Pakhto”), had an edition of 160,000.22 But after these five years of primary education in Pashto a clear shift occurred in the extent and direction of Pashto instruction. The number of students declined rapidly. The sixth-year class (Spagam Jamiat) textbook, Pakhto, was published in a edition of 25,000. The seventh-year textbook, also titled Pakhto, had a run of 15,000 copies. The eighth-year class book, again titled Pakhto, had a printing of just 5,000 copies. This radical decline in apparent numbers of Pashto students was accompanied by a shift in intended audience and lesson content. The first five years of primary level textbooks were colorful, illustrated, and exhibited occasional moments of gender balanced social context. Science and a modern, urban context were introduced to student perspectives assumed to be of an often rural, village-based background.

21 Certainly multiple press runs of lower numbers might occur and upset any simple correspondence of press runs and enrollments, but the dramatic differences discussed seem to offer fair evidence. 22 These were the titles and press runs of the books available in Peshawar’s Chowk Yadgar bookstores in summer 2004. “Pakhto” is the eastern/northeastern version of the Pashto language (the sh letter/sound becomes kh, etc.). My transcriptions in Pashto and English are not meant to be anything more than simple transcriptions from the actual Pashto script from the volumes themselves.

pashto language policy and practice

273

Two women were among the authors listed as contributing to various volumes of the first five years of textbooks. Nine different authors, assembled in different combinations were credited with writing the grade one through five books. Syed Ahmed Mohmand and Niaz Muhammad Ijaz contributed to all six textbooks used for the first five years of Pashto study. Muhammad Alam Khan was listed as one of the authors of the first three years of books. Four authors made contributions to only the first year, lower volume, “Pakhto System,” including one woman, Nighat Yasmin. The other three were Daud Khan Daud, Farmanullah Khan, and Syed Makmud Khan. Joining the two mentioned authors of the second-year through fifth-year textbooks were two additional authors, Aruf Ali Khan Ghauri, and a second woman, Farzana Maroof. The presence of Nighat Yasmin and Farzana Maroof as authors was matched by schoolbook content that reflected female agency beyond traditional gender roles. The early volumes certainly often replicated patriarchal norms and practices, but they also included lessons with women who participated in out of the home, skilled, urban roles and employment. In the very first Pashto book for first-year students one of the images used to prompt pupils to recognize words using the letter waw as a vowel marker for “u” was a picture of a burqa, the full body covering worn by many Pashtun women. In the second-year textbook, the young girl Mariam introduced readers to her family. “This is my mother. She is the teacher in the school of the village. She also does all the work of the home” (p. 4). “My grandmother helps mother in the house” (p. 5). But through the rest of the book, new roles for women began to appear. In a lesson discussing and illustrating different work skills one woman was pictured and described as a dentist ( ghakhunah doctor), while the text accompanying a picture of a woman at a sewing machine said, “Nur Bibi toils in a workshop” (karkhana) (p. 39). In the third-year textbook such economic integration continued to be portrayed. In a section discussing people and professions (khalk au kar kasb) readers learned that Mariam’s uncle and aunt lived in Peshawar (Pekhawar). Her uncle was a pilot for PIA and “her aunt is a doctor in a hospital.” Their son served (nokari) in a bank operating a computer. Their daughter Aisha worked at a newspaper (akhbar ke kar kuwey) preparing pages for printing (p. 5).

274

robert nichols

These rather modern moments occurred in primary-level textbooks full of predictable material introducing children to the vocabulary and context of their national, spiritual, and cultural world. Conformity to national language policy and “ideological” guidelines for textbook content seemed apparent. Morality tales, religious verse, and trips around Pakistan were mixed with national stories of the founder of Pakistan, M.A. Jinnah. The second-year textbook included lessons on personal hygiene and safety, but also on the early Muslim caliphs “Hazrat Abu Bakr” and “Hazrat Umar.” There was a lesson on Pakistan in verse and another lesson on M.A. Jinnah, “Our Quaid and Pakistan.” The third-year textbook lessons included “Our Messenger, Hazrat Muhammad,” “The Ant and the Locust,” “I am also Pakistan,” and a lesson about a national hero, Rashid Minhas, an Air Force pilot in the 1971 war with India. On the back cover of this book, and on the back cover of each of the yearly textbooks, were the stanzas of the Pakistan national anthem (Quami Torana). The fifth-year volume, Zma Da Pakhto Kitab (“My Book of Pakhto”) was the culmination of primary-level Pashto instruction. At 165 pages, this was the thickest of the texts studied. It was full of colored illustrations and lessons on issues ranging from archaeological sites in Pakistan to environmental awareness. Religious verse and a discussion of Mecca were followed by lessons on the history of writing and on machinery and modern technology. The national and religious projects continued in the fifth-year book. Lessons were included on the Shalimar Gardens, again on Rashid Minhas, pilot in the 1971 war, and on the life of M.A. Jinnah. The Pakhto poet Rahman Baba was studied, as were Hazrat Usman, early caliph and friend of the prophet, and Hazrat Imam Hassan. There were also lessons discussing jihad and international Islamic unity. Yet the fifth-year textbook also contained a contemporary feel in different lesson choices and stories being told. One lesson, based around the sport of cricket and the cricket World Cup, included a picture of children sitting in front of a television watching a match. One story was set in China. Another essay, with photographs, was about the North Pole (shamali qutb). There was a seven-page narrative about a scientist, “Madame Curie Marie” (pp. 140-7). A perceptible shift occurred after the textbooks of the first five grade levels. The class six through class eight Pashto language textbooks, all titled Pakhto, revealed not just the apparent decline in

pashto language policy and practice

275

student enrollments, but a new set of authors with a narrower cultural agenda. Different decisions had been made regulating the content of the upper-level Pashto language textbooks. As Urdu, in comparison to English, functioned in alternate and often lower status language domains of religious and traditional discourses, so Pashto was being appropriated to serve an accelerated religious agenda by the NWFP textbook board. Seven authors contributed to the Pashto textbooks for grades six through eight, none of them women. Maulana Abdul Qadir wrote for each year. Three additional authors contributed to the sixth-year textbook. Another team of three authors all contributed to the seventh-year and eighth-year textbooks. All seven authors of the books for years six through eight had names or titles of a religious sensibility, Syed, Maulana, or Qazi. The authors of the eighth-class (Da Atam Jamiat) textbook were Maulana Abdul Qadir, Syed Anwar ul Haq, Qazi Ahmad Shahid, and M. (Maulana) Abdul Sabooh Qasmi. An overview of lesson contents in these volumes reflected a shift away from any degree of a modernist, gender balanced approach to a more didactic set of nationalist, Islamic norms and values. The books now were in the ninety-page range, with only a few black and white illustrations. The fifth-year textbook had about thirty-five lessons, including five labels as stories (qissa) and five as verse (nazm). The sixth-year textbook had about 48 shorter lessons, including 12 composed in verse. The opening prayer (du’a) of the sixth-year book was poetry from Allama Iqbal translated into Pashto. The second lesson was on Hazrat Umar, the third on “Our Pakistan,” and the fourth on “All Ghazis” (wara ghaziat). The fifth lesson was verse on “Gratitude” (shukr) and the sixth was on Hazrat Imam Malik. The mix of content of the previous lessons continued, but perhaps in shifting proportions. There were lessons on “The Glory of the Nation’s Flag” and verses “To One’s Mother.” There were lessons on “Razia Sultana,” the only medieval woman ruler of Delhi, and on “Florence Nightingale.” There were histories on the eighteenth century Pakhtun rulers in north India “Bhagat Khan Rohilla” and “Hafiz Rahmat Khan.” There was a narrative of “Major Khadim Hussain Shahid,” a hero from the 1965 war with India. Science, knowledge, and technology were represented with lessons on “Al Biruni,” “Boali Sina” (Avicenna), “Edison” and transportation. Geography lessons described “Waziristan,” a “Tour of Peshawar,” and the “Khyber Pass.”

276

robert nichols

The sixth-year textbook offered moral guidance with lessons on “Truth and Falsehood,” “Being Awakened,” the allegory of the “Cricket and Ant,” and “Justice and Equity.” But it was often distinctly Islamic moral guidance contained within narratives of “True Sacrifice,” “The Nation’s Shahid,” “The Country’s Shahid,” the “Ghaza of Rajasthan,” and “Pir Baba.” The forty lessons of the seventh-year textbook confirmed the focus on content from conservative Pakistan Studies and Islamiyat Studies curricula. Including the opening prayer, six of the first seven lessons were Islamic narratives, verse, or guidance. (The fifth lesson was on Socrates.) Nationalism followed with two lessons on “August 14,” the day of independence in 1947. Later lessons on “Pakistan,” “Our Brave Soldiers,” and the “National Flag of Pakistan” were complimented with war narratives of “Wing Commander Muhammad Mahmud Alim,” “Destruction of Dwarka” (in India) and “Attack on Pakistan” (by India). An Islamic-nationalist sensibility combined in later lessons on “Muhammad bin Qasim,” the eighth century Muslim conqueror of Sindh, “Sir Syed Ahmad Khan,” “Allama Iqbal,” and “Mustapha Kemal” of Turkey. Two lessons, “Rubaiyani” and “Fatwa,” were writings from the seventeenth century Pakhtun warrior-poet Khushal Khan Khattak. Sections on “Marconi,” “Camera,” “Sui Gas,” and “Sugar Factory” were some of the few related to technological or economic themes. “Swat,” “Tirah,” “Jirga,” and the “Mahabat Khan Mosque” in Peshawar were essays on NWFP themes. Though there was prose on Taxila and the Lahore Fort, the tone of the book was set by early lessons on “Islamic Brotherhood,” “The Captured Mujahid,” and “Brave Mujahid” followed by later essays such as “Sacrificed for Islam.” There were moral warnings such as “Don’t be arrogant,” but no biographies or illustrations of women in any role. The eighth-year textbook had fifty-four lessons or readings in 115 pages. The index is reproduced below. Explanatory details are in parentheses.23

23 My colleague Khudadad first translated this index. Changes and the final list are my responsibility.

pashto language policy and practice

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45

277

Contents

Page

Prayer (du’a, by Rahman Baba) You will reap what you sow Caring for parents Guidance Birth of the Prophet (nazm) verse How Pakistan came into being The Badshahi mosque (of Lahore) Maulana Muhammad Ali Gohar Time and Money verse Hakeem Al Razi (Dr. Abu Bakr ibn Zikria Razi) Buddhism (On a temple in Swat) Chitral Oh Muslim! verse Pakistan’s Wealth (Forests) Medicine and Surgery in Islamic Andalus A true Mujahid (Abdullah ibn Zubair, Prophet’s companion) Don’t be big. . . . verse Loving the country made Syed Ahmad Shahid Barelvi Ghazis Song verse Dysentery Gabir ibn Hayan (father of chemistry) Electricity Plants (kar khani) The war for independence of Kashmir A clever judge A kind King of China The song of ants (sandara’h) verse Jihad Salahuddin Ayubi Mohenjodaro Khyber Gate verse Our Baluchi brothers Dr. Fleming (penicillin) Real Life verse Pakistan’s Wealth (industrial) The Atom Working oneself is a tradition (of the Prophet) Manly Boy Who is stupid? verse Cleanliness of streets and footpaths The Force of Faith Our Sindhi Brothers Conduct (adab) verse Parachinar (FATA region) Datta Ganj Bakhsh (religious saint)

5 6 8 11 13 14 17 19 22 24 26 28 30 31 33 35 38 40 43 46 48 50 52 55 58 62 64 66 69 71 73 75 77 79 80 82 84 86 88 89 91 94 96 97 99

278

robert nichols

(cont.) Contents 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54

Ghazi’s Song (tarana) The natural resources of Pakistan The Conqueror of Iran (Saad ibn Abi Waqas) Flowers in the Earth Rocket I am a Ghazi Climber of a volcanic mount, Part One Climber of a volcanic mount, Part Two Pakistan

Page verse verse verse

101 103 105 107 108 110 113 115

verse

As might be expected, the class-eight textbook had pages with smaller type and denser script, often twenty to twenty-five lines of prose or poetry to a page. As in earlier books, lessons ended with questions (suwalunah) and exercises (mashk). The book had no pictures. It had no lessons devoted to a woman’s biography or verses to mothers. Surprisingly, even in a country with long spans of political rule by a variety of civilian and military leaders, there was no lesson in the first eight years of Pashto textbooks about a single Pakistani political leader besides M.A. Jinnah. Aside from the political ally China, modern nation-states were little mentioned. Discussions of science and technology seemed a generation or more behind contemporary subjects and ideas of global economies and the latest high technology were missing. There was no biography of the only Pakistani to win a Nobel Prize. That scientist, physicist Abdus Salam, had spent his career working outside of Pakistan. He was a “Qadiani,” a member of the Ahmadiyya community that had been declared by the state to be non-Muslim, and apparently, to be unworthy of study. The politics of writing Pashto language textbooks in a nationalist environment promoting integration through Islam and Urdu had unique effects. There was no lesson on any twentieth century Pakhtun, especially Abdul Ghaffar Khan, the anti-British, pro-Pakhtun nationalist. There was no lesson on the Pashtun state-builders in nineteenth and twentieth century Afghanistan. There was little or no sampling of original Pashto language religious or historical material. This preliminary survey of Pashto course books invites the attention of scholars with time to analyze the content of lessons beyond the

pashto language policy and practice

279

apparent identification with typical curriculum materials familiar from Pakistan Studies and Islamiyat Studies programs. Clearly, those students in the NWFP able to attend school were in a difficult situation. They typically grew up speaking Pashto or another regional tongue. They were schooled heavily in Urdu and were pressured in every way to learn English. Simply becoming well educated in any single language appeared a major challenge. And, if, in fact, the contents of lessons surveyed over the eight years of Pashto textbooks were typical of post-1947 classroom pedagogical material, then this essay might close with a statement from a scholar who did a thorough survey of history texts written in the same constrained teaching environment: But even more grievous is the effect these textbooks have on the mind of the student and, over the years, on the character of the citizen. It may well sound as an exaggeration to the uninitiated, but as a teacher and a historian I am convinced that most of the ills from which the country has suffered in the past and is still suffering have their root cause in the textbooks in use. The failure of democracy, the long spells of military dictatorship, corruption, moral laxity, deterioration in character, decline in moral values, sense of irresponsibility, terrorism, sectarian strife, inefficiency, cynicism, indifference to what the future holds for us-all this is the bitter harvest from the seeds we use in the cultivation of the minds of the young (Aziz 1993: 242).

In the end, national language policy, especially in the field of education in the NWFP, had constructed a type of three tiered language hierarchy. Pashto lagged far behind Urdu and English in prestige or development in almost every domain of political or economic power, even as Urdu took second place to English among the very elite. More recently though, as national, more secular politics came into competition with new, often regional religious politics, Islamist activists embraced Pashto as a medium of instruction in madrasas operating outside the direct supervision of nation-state regulation. If the post-1947 use in the NWFP of Urdu and English to the detriment of Pashto served to illustrate the tensions inherent in societies in which diglossia existed with limited bilingualism, post-1970s NWFP urbanization, increased education, and accelerating religious politics offered increased evidence of new social spaces encouraging NWFP residents to diversify their “linguistic repertoire” (Fishman, 1971: 75) to take advantage of opportunities in education, government, high culture, and religion. In 2004 the Pakistan nation-state, especially in the NWFP, struggled with the social and political

280

robert nichols

consequences of widespread diglossia existing with increasingly widespread bilingualism.24 Even wider international foreign policy initiatives might become entangled with regional language policies in efforts to juggle concerns about education with concerns about culturally and politically sensitive content. As a last example of Pashto pedagogy, for Afghanistan, in 2002 ad/1381 ah, the University of Omaha in Nebraska produced Pashto textbooks financed by USAID funds. The short sections of the ninth-class (naham ttolegi) textbook, Pakhto, began with a lesson in verse offering “Praise” (hamd), followed by lessons, among others, on Hazrat Abu Bakr, “Love of Country” (Da Watan Mayana’h), Hazrat Umar, Hazrat Osman, and Hazrat Ali. These were in the first twenty-five pages of a 112-page paperback volume. There were moral lessons in story and poetry. Other lessons included those on “Mirza Khan Ansari,” “The Afghan Condition,” “On Religious Honor,” and “Respect.” There were two lessons titled “Madame Nazo” (merman nazo) and “The Good Woman” (khe merman). References Aziz, K.K. (1993). The Murder of History, A critique of history textbooks used in Pakistan. Lahore: Vanguard. Barth, F. & Jahanzeb, Miangul. (1988). The Last Wali of Swat: An Autobiography. New York: Columbia University Press. Cohn, Bernard. (1996). “The Command of Languages and the Language of Command,” in Colonialism and Its Forms of Knowledge: The British in India. Princeton: Princeton University Press, pp. 16-56. Dupree, Louis. (1980). Afghanistan. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Fishman, Joshua. (1967). “Bilingualism With and Without Diglossia: Diglossia With and Without Bilingualism,” in Journal of Social Issues, vol. 23, no. 2, pp. 29-38. ——. (1971). “Societal bilingualism: stable and transitional,” in Sociolinguistics: A Brief Introduction, Rowley, Mass.: Newbury House, second printing, pp. 73-89. Leitner, G.W. (1882). History of Indigenous Education in the Punjab Since Annexation and in 1882. Calcutta: Superintendent of Government Press. Mansoor, Sabiha. (2004). “The Medium of Instruction Dilemma: Implications for Language Planning in Higher Education,” in S. Mansoor, S. Meraj, and A. Tahir (eds). Language Policy, Planning, and Practice. Karachi: Oxford University Press. Malik, Jamal. (1996). Colonization of Islam. Lahore: Vanguard Books. Morgenstierne, Georg. (1932). Report on a Linguistic Mission to North-Western India. Norway: Instituttet For Sammenlignende Kulturforskning. Reprint Karachi: Indus Publication, n.d.

24 See Fishman (1971: 75) for discussion of “Speech Communities Characterized By Both Diglossia and Bilingualism.”

pashto language policy and practice

281

Rahman, Tariq. (1998). Language and Politics in Pakistan. Karachi: Oxford University Press. ——. (1999). Language, Education, and Culture. Karachi: Oxford University Press. ——. (2002). Language, Ideology and Power: Language-learning among the Muslims of Pakistan and North India. Karachi: Oxford University Press. Raverty, H.G. (1860). A Dictionary of the Pukkhto or Pukshto Language. Peshawar: Saeed Book Bank, 1982 reprint. ——. (1860). A Dictionary of the Pukkhto or Pukshto Language. Peshawar: Saeed Book Bank, 1982 reprint. ——. (1855). A Grammar of the Pukhto, Pushto or Language of the Afghans. New Delhi: Asian Educational Services, 1987 reprint. ——. (1860). The Gulshan-i-roh: being selections, prose and poetical, in the Pushto or Afghan language. London: Longman, Green, Longman and Roberts. ——. (1878). Notes on Afghanistan and Baluchistan. Lahore: Sang-e-Meel Publications, reprint 2001. Roberts, Jeffrey. (2004). The Origins of Conflict in Afghanistan. London: Praeger. Schiffman, Harold F. (1996). Linguistic Culture and Language Policy. London: Routledge.

CHAPTER NINE

A ‘VERNACULAR’ FOR A ‘NEW GENERATION’? HISTORICAL PERSPECTIVES ABOUT URDU AND PUNJABI, AND THE FORMATION OF LANGUAGE POLICY IN COLONIAL NORTHWEST INDIA Jeffrey M. Diamond Many articles in this volume have considered contemporary language policy in the regions around Afghanistan. This article provides an historical perspective to these policies, examining the formation of early British colonial attitudes and policies concerning languages in the northwest Indian regions bordering Afghanistan during the middle of the nineteenth century. In order to comprehensively analyze decisions concerning language, this paper argues that language policy in colonial northwest India was not a clearly defined or systematic process; rather, the development of language policy was connected to debates and attitudes about languages formulated during the early colonial experience, and influenced by missionary encounters, administrative personalities, and partnerships with members of the Indian literati. During the nineteenth century, the British expanded their rule throughout much of north India. By 1849, they were able to capture the prized region of Punjab from Sikh rule. This region—which extended approximately from Delhi to the North West Frontier bordering Afghanistan—encompassed an area that includes present day east and west Punjab as well as the North West Frontier Province in Pakistan. Such a large and diverse area brought enormous wealth but many administrative challenges as well. One of the most fundamental questions concerned language policy. As the British acquired territory in north India, they actively developed policies concerning the use of Indian languages for administration. Historically, Persian was the language of administration for the Mughal rulers and their successor states by the eighteenth century.1 1 For a review about the use of Persian during Mughal rule, see, Muzaffar Alam. “The Pursuit of Persian: Language in Mughal Politics,” Modern Asian Studies, vol. 32, no. 2, May 1998, pp. 317-49.

a ‘vernacular’ for a ‘new generation’?

283

However, after establishing rule in India, Act XXIX of 1837 authorized the British Governor-General of India to replace Persian as the language of administration with English and Indian “vernacular” languages. Thus, colonial attitudes toward Persian changed, as Persian was no longer required for administration when the British annexed the Punjab. In addition, British officials in the Punjab sought to employ an administration and an administrative language that did not represent the structures of pre-colonial rule—and Persian was strongly linked to precolonial administration. Although English was used for official British correspondence, English could not be utilized for day to day purposes as few if any Indians understood English at the time. Indeed, English was not adequate for interacting with the local population through the courts and other forms of administration, and it was not used in other parts of India either for such purposes. As a result, colonial officials sought to replace Persian with an Indian “vernacular” language for local administrative purposes when the British conquered the greater Punjab region. Before we proceed further, we should ask, what do we mean by language policy and how can we evaluate it in northwest India? Language policy in colonial northwest India mainly involved the decisions about the status, use, and domains of languages in the region.2 As language policy was formulated by a colonial state, decisions were made from above—what can be termed a centrist policy, at least officially.3 However, in the middle of the nineteenth century, there was no precise definition of what colonial officials understood to be official language policy and they did not readily use such terms. ‘Official’ policy mainly referred to the use of language for administrative (and subsequently educational) purposes. For early colonial officials, this policy was part of a wider concern about how they could most successfully administer a region that they recently conquered. Although officials were influenced by interactions with their subaltern assistants and their Indian ‘subjects,’ the voices of these people were limited. Therefore, this was 2 This definition does not include language planning. This paper uses the term vernacular—often part of British discourse—in reference to several Indian languages. The use of the term vernacular does not imply the language is less significant. 3 The formation of official policy is the focus of this paper. Although difficult to ascertain, in practice, one could argue the de facto language policy in colonial Punjab was more amenable to local languages as colonial institutions had to adapt as well (discussed below). For further discussion about centrist and de facto language policy, see the ‘Introduction’ to this volume as well as Harold F. Schiffman Linguistic Culture and Language Policy. London: Routledge, 1996.

284

jeffrey m. diamond

not a democratic debate between different Indian groups about language policy. It was a policy decided from above, although it had enormous impact on later social and cultural developments in the region. Indeed, the promotion and patronage of Urdu among the educated elite helped Urdu to become a foundation for various social debates in the later nineteenth century north India, as there was a belief that the ‘development’ of Urdu into a ‘modern’ language would also facilitate the development of India generally.4 In order to provide a larger analysis of these issues, this paper examines the question of language policy through three methods.5 First, we evaluate the diverse language practices and linguistic culture in the region of greater Punjab as the British encountered it around 1849. Then, we examine cultural and linguistic studies conducted by missionary and colonial officials in order to evaluate how these studies began to inform colonial attitudes, beliefs, and debates about appropriate languages for administration. We conclude with the colonial debates about official language policy in northwest India through the decisions to utilize Urdu as the judicial vernacular language in the region. 9.1. Language and Society in Late Pre-Colonial and Early Colonial Punjab It is difficult to reconstruct the full linguistic culture—the behaviors, assumptions, attitudes, ideas, and religious and historical circumstances of language usage—in this article as the sources are limited. Nonetheless, it is still important to detail the various sets of language usage at the time in order to evaluate the circumstances involved in the formation of language policy in northwest India.6 Therefore, this section offers a brief review of language usage in pre-colonial and early

4 For an examination about the development of Urdu in relation to social and religious reform in later nineteenth century Punjab, see Jeffrey M. Diamond. Negotiating Muslim Identity: Education, Print and Intellectuals in Nineteenth Century Colonial North India. Cambria, (forthcoming). 5 Bernard Spolsky argues that language policy consists of three components— language practices, beliefs, and efforts to modify these practices. This article will examine language policy in northwest India through a similar method. Bernard Spolsky. Language Policy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004, p. 5. 6 For a definition of linguistic culture, see, Schiffman 1996, p. 5.

a ‘vernacular’ for a ‘new generation’?

285

colonial Punjab to contextualize linguistic studies and the subsequent colonial debates regarding language and administration. Due to the location near Afghanistan, at the crossroads between Central Asia and South Asia, there historically has been a linguistically diverse society in the Punjab region. This diversity facilitated a complex fluid boundary between several languages. Many Punjabis were not limited to one language, as there were multiple languages used for different circumstances, including the languages of government bureaucracies mainly associated with the courts, the language of trade and property records, as well as languages for educational purposes, and the languages associated with religious functions. The most common usage of language was within the household and the bazaar. These various uses of languages provided a fluid boundary between those that were spoken, written, read, and understood in the region. However, it would be difficult to argue that these languages were understood in pre-colonial Punjab to be under one language ‘umbrella.’ One could describe this multiple language use as a diglossia—a diglossia that incorporated various languages for different usages and not simply various forms of one language. Thus, languages in pre-colonial Punjab did not fit into explicit territorial boundaries; instead, they illustrated the numerous influences on the region. Persian, Arabic, Sanskrit, different forms of Punjabi, Kashmiri, Baluchi, Pushtu, and even dialects of the Khari Boli and Braj Bhasha languages (in far east Punjab) all had unique uses in greater Punjab.7 The importance of these languages varied depending upon the context of their use. There was a tradition of ‘classical’ and ‘vernacular’ language textual production that was part of the wider developments throughout North India. The Sanskrit root of vernacular languages in India has been greatly discussed, but we should also note that this literary tradition was significantly influenced by Perso-Islamic culture throughout north India. Although there were several written languages in Punjab, Persian was the most significant textual language in the region. It was the administrative language of Punjab immediately prior to 1849; continuing the practice during Mughal rule, the Sikh rulers of pre-colonial Punjab utilized 7

See Grierson’s study of Punjabi for a brief discussion on the other languages and their influences in the region. George A. Grierson. Linguistic Survey of India. Vol. IX, Indo-Aryan Family Central Group. Specimens of Western Hindi and Panjabi. Calcutta: Superintendent of Government Printing, 1916, especially pp. 607-19.

286

jeffrey m. diamond

Persian for written documents, communication, and treaties. For example, records of trade, the Lahore Darbar (court), and general administration all were in Persian.8 The British authorities also negotiated with Sikh leaders such as Maharaja Ranjit Singh in Persian.9 However, Persian was not limited to the Sikh court at Lahore; local administration in the Punjab also was conducted in Persian. For example, Persian was the main language used to record trade, general administration and legal documents in the Batala region during Sikh rule.10 All religious communities relied upon the qazi (judge) to decide and validate cases that dealt with property and trade, and these records were in Persian. These documents were legally valid throughout the Punjab. Persian also was the main language of erudition, the language of the ‘learned’ literate elite in pre-colonial Punjabi society. The curriculum of the principal educational institutions, maktabs (Persian schools), included famous Persian texts such as the Gulistan and Bustan.11 Maktab students came from all religious communities whose members worked as traders or were local administrators. Hindu and Sikh Kayasths and Khatris were the main group of non-Muslims who learned Persian as they held administrative positions and were important merchants and traders.12 Therefore, Khatris, Kayasths, and Muslims who worked as munshis under Sikh rule in pre-colonial Punjab, utilized Persian for their duties. Thus, the Punjab was a literacy aware society, where commercial classes and religious leaders could utilize written languages to some

8 The catalogues of these records provide some insight into the workings of the Sikh administration. See, for instance, Nazir Ahmad Chaudhry. Punjab Government Record Office Publications. A Guide to the Punjab Secretariat Record Office, Lahore. Lahore: Punjab Government, n.d., pp. 8-13. 9 For a listing of the Persian records of the Sikh court, see, Nazir Ahmad Chaudhry. Punjab Government Record Office Publications. Calendar of Persian Correspondence: Collection of Treaties, Sanads, Letters, Etc., Passed Between the East India Company, Sikhs, Afghans, and other Notables. vol. 1. Lahore: Superintendent, Government Printing, 1972. 10 The administration of justice is an important source for these records. For an overview of the administration during Sikh rule with associated Persian documents, see, J.S. Grewal. In the By-Lanes of History: Some Persian Documents from a Punjab Town. Simla: Indian Institute of Advanced Study, 1975, pp. 25-32. 11 These texts were popularly used in schools throughout the Punjab. For a study of maktab education, see Diamond, (forthcoming). 12 Kayasth scribes gained prominence during the late eighteenth century. See, Aziz Ahmad. Studies in Islamic Culture in the Indian Environment. Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1999 (reprint of 1966 edition) pp. 234-6.

a ‘vernacular’ for a ‘new generation’?

287

degree.13 Indeed, textual languages also served religious purposes, especially the ‘classical’ languages of Arabic and Sanskrit. Muslim men and women were taught to read the Quʾran (in Arabic) and to commit the text to memory in schools or in the household. Certain Hindu castes learned to read ancient Hindu epics along with portions of the puranas.14 Yet, few people understood or used Sanskrit or Arabic beyond recitation, with the exception of religious leaders who maintained control over this knowledge.15 Still, Arabic terms and phrases were incorporated into Persian, Urdu, and Punjabi, and it was common for Muslims to introduce aiyas (verses) of the Qurʾan into everyday speech.16 Although literacy, the ability to read and write to some degree, was quite low among Punjabi speakers, Punjabi was the most widely known and spoken language in early colonial Punjab. In all of the districts of Punjab except in the extreme east, nearly all of the inhabitants in 1881 used Punjabi.17 Punjabi was spoken in the home and marketplace as part of an oral tradition. Punjabi also was the most common language employed for religious purposes. Punjabi ‘oral’ culture did not supercede important texts in Arabic or Sanskrit. However, people’s reference to religion commonly was through Punjabi. For Muslims, much of the spiritual Sufi practices were conducted in the Punjabi language.18

13 For a discussion on the ‘literacy aware’ society of north India, see C.A. Bayly. Empire and Information: Intelligence Gathering and Social Communication in India, 1780–1870. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996, pp. 38-40. 14 The Mahabharata and Ramayana were two important epics that also had vernacular language translations by the nineteenth century. This allowed these texts to be read and accessed by a more diverse group than the few familiar with Sanskrit. 15 For instance, few Muslims understood Arabic beyond the recitation of texts such as the Qu’ran. See, Muhammad Qasim Zaman. “Commentaries, Print and Patronage: Hadith and the Madrasas in Modern South Asia.” Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies, vol. 62, no. 1, 1999, pp. 60-3. A similar argument has been made about Brahmins and higher caste Hindus, who developed an “exclusive system for maintaining their superior status.” See Poromesh Acharya. “Indigenous Education and Brahminical Hegemony in Bengal.” in Nigel Crook (ed.), The Transmission of Knowledge in South Asia: Essays on Education, Religion, History, and Politics. Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1996, especially p. 116. 16 Any traveler can recognize that this ‘folk’ religious practice has retained currency to this day. Other ‘Islamic’ phrases include the ubiquitous ‘Inshallah’ (God willing). 17 This includes various dialects classified by the British colonial officials. In the 1881 census, approximately 95% of people in the Punjab proper spoke a dialect of Punjabi. For detailed information by district, see the Gazetteer series, such as Gazetteer of the Lahore District, 1883–4. Lahore: Punjab Government, 1884. 18 There has been much writing on Sufism in Punjab and North India that details the important role Sufism has played in transferring Muslim religious ideals through oral culture. One interesting article that relates Sufi practice to religious and political culture

288

jeffrey m. diamond

Although influenced by the Persian language and culture, Sufi tradition adapted to the context of North India readily.19 The three major written forms of Punjabi were in the lande, gurmukhi and nastaliq (modified Perso-Arabic) scripts. Lande was a script based on nagri that was used by merchants in central and western Punjab. It varied somewhat in each district, and was used by groups such as the Kayasths mostly for personal records of trade (as Persian was the language of important legal documents).20 Gurmukhi, a script based on Sanskrit and similar to the Hindi devanagri script, served as the script for the Sikh religious texts, the Adi Granth. Additional Sikh writings in gurmukhi included publications about the Adi Granth, along with other devotional literature.21 Thus, as we shall see, colonial officials, who began to review these texts, saw Punjabi (at least in the written form) as the language important to the Sikhs and often used the terms Punjabi and gurmuhki interchangeably. Yet we should also note that the Punjabi textual literary heritage prior to colonial rule included all religious communities. Indeed, Punjabi Muslim poets were responsible for the significant development of Punjabi verse by utilizing Persian literary traditions, often writing in the Perso-Arabic nastaliq script.22 This Muslim Punjabi literary tradition included the story of Yusuf and Zulaikha as well as Waris Shah’s Hir Ranjha.23

is Richard M. Eaton. “The Political and Religious Authority of the Shrine of Baba Farid,” in Metcalf, Barbara, ed., Moral Conduct and Authority: The Place of Adab in South Asian Islam. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1984, pp. 333-56. 19 Persian Sufi mysticism influenced Sufi practices throughout North India. The Persian influence is discussed in Aziz, Studies in Islamic Culture, p. 233. 20 G.W. Leitner also argued that the “various forms of commercial writing” were all related to Lande, and were “modifications of Nagri.” For his comments and examples of lande, see G.W. Leitner. History of Indigenous Education in the Punjab Since Annexation and in 1882. Lahore: Republican Books, 1991 (reprint of 1882 original), p. iii, Appendix VII. Gurmukhi is said to be an adapted from lande and devanagri. See Grierson, Linguistic Survey, p. 624. 21 The Adi Granth and related literature forms the core of Sikh literature in gurmukhi at the India Office Library. See, C. Shackle. Catalogue of the Panjabi and Sindhi Manuscripts in the India Office Library. London: Indian Office Library and Records, 1977, Introduction and pp. 1-20. 22 The Persian Masnavi influenced Punjabi narrative poetry. Christopher Shackle, “Some Observations on the Evolution of Modern Standard Punjabi,” in Joseph O’Connell, Milton Israel, and Willard Oxtoby (eds.), Sikh History and Religion in the Twentieth Century. Toronto: South Asian Studies, Univ. of Toronto, 1988, pp. 105-7. 23 Christopher Shackle, “Between Scripture and Romance: The Yusuf-Zulaikha Story in Panjabi.” South Asia Research, vol. 15, no. 2, Autumn 1995, pp. 164-6.

a ‘vernacular’ for a ‘new generation’?

289

As there was no standard Punjabi in pre-colonial Punjab, there were several dialects and variances in style, composition, and terminology that influenced each text. For instance, Guru Nanak’s poetry in the Adi Granth was in his native Sheikhupuri Punjabi, although there were additional linguistic influences as well.24 Indeed, the texts of the Adi Granth illustrate the heterogeneous nature of Punjabi in pre-colonial Punjab. The lack of a standard may have lead to different spelling and techniques of style as well.25 These diverse regional ‘dialects’ of Punjabi could be understood, but were not necessarily spoken throughout the region. Moreover, many of the texts by Muslims, Sikhs, and Hindus relied upon a heterogeneous literary tradition that included Persian and Urdu influences, illustrating the fluid boundaries between languages. With this fluid arena of language usage, it is important to differentiate between an ‘intelligible’ language and a ‘spoken’ language.26 Several languages in colonial Punjab were not spoken in the region; however, they were ‘intelligible’—understood—as they shared recognized terms, phrases, and often a similar grammar. For instance, people living in the peripheral areas of greater Punjab also spoke languages such as Sindhi, Pushtu, Baluchi, and Kashmiri. Thus, it was common for people to ‘know’ (understand, and perhaps speak or even write) several languages, particularly among those living near borders or those belonging to literate classes.27 This also facilitated the development of ‘mixed’ languages, incorporating the terms and grammar of several languages. For

24 Shackle, 1988, pp. 105-6. Grierson even argued that “a very small portion” of the Adi Granth was in Punjabi, as it was a mixture of different languages. Grierson, Linguistic Survey, p. 618. 25 For instance, one nineteenth century manuscript listed in Takkar’s Descriptive Catalogue of Panjabi Manuscripts contains words that Takkar believes were “mis-spelt or written in an unconventional way.” Amrit Lal Takkar, Descriptive Catalogue of Panjabi Manuscripts in the Vrindaban Research Institute. Vrindaban: Vrindaban Research Institute, 1996, p. 29. 26 This concept is explored by a discussion about Bhudev Mukhopadhyay’s view of Hindustani as the most ‘common-intelligible’ language for people in all areas of India, not the most ‘common-spoken,’ in Sudipta Kaviraj. “The Two Histories of Literary Culture in Bengal” in Sheldon Pollock (ed.), Literary Cultures in History: Reconstructions from South Asia. Berkeley: University of California, Press, 2003, pp. 510-2. 27 An important Muslim Punjabi poet from the southern Punjab princely state of Bahawalpur in the later nineteenth century knew Urdu, Siraiki, Sindhi, Braj along with Arabic and Persian; he also wrote in various scripts. See Christopher Shackle, “Urdu as a sideline: the poetry of Khwaja Ghulam Farid,” in Christopher Shackle (ed.), Urdu and Muslim South Asia: Studies in Honour of Ralph Russell. London: SOAS, 1989, pp. 78-9.

290

jeffrey m. diamond

example, Urdu was known as a ‘rekhta’ (scattered or mixed) language in the earlier nineteenth century, incorporating various elements of Arabic, Persian, Punjabi and other related languages.28 Punjabi also exhibited the characteristics of a ‘mixed’ language during this time. Therefore, many authors had a certain level of multilingual knowledge that allowed them to speak or even write one or more languages; and this knowledge rendered several other important languages intelligible as well. Thus, the fluid boundary between languages and the ‘intelligible’ nature of other languages influenced language usage. Urdu, also known as Hindustani at that time, was the main language of administration used by the British in colonial North India.29 It was ‘intelligible’ by many people who spoke Punjabi and those familiar with Persian in early colonial Punjab. Urdu, Punjabi, and other North Indian languages shared similar grammatical structures and terms on a elementary level. Indeed, Urdu contained many words used in Persian and Punjabi that a listener or reader could understand in the structure of his or her own main language(s), typically Punjabi or administrative Persian. However, Urdu does not appear to have had any special concentration of speakers in early colonial Punjab. The Hindustani speaking areas of Delhi and eastern Haryana were not attached to the Punjab until after 1857, well into colonial rule. The fluid boundaries between Urdu and Punjabi and the ‘intelligible’ nature of Urdu became more apparent in the later nineteenth century, as Urdu became the administrative vernacular for Punjab. While there may appear to be a divide between the oral and literate, there was a co-existence between the oral and textual word in this time period for Punjab. There have been similar evaluations about other Muslim societies with a co-existence between the oral and written traditions. Jack Goody has illustrated how religious literature in West Africa existed alongside the many oral, unwritten traditions.30 28 This idea is developed in Javed Majeed’s analysis of the expansion of British rule in North India and the early nineteenth century Urdu writer, Sayyid Inhsa Allah Khan from Delhi. Javed Majeed, “ ‘The Jargon of Indostan’: An Exploration of Jargon in Urdu and East India Company English” in Peter Burke and Roy Porter (eds.), Languages and Jargons: Contributions to a Social History of Language. Cambridge, MA: Polity Press, 1995, pp. 191-6. 29 For a general discussion about the usage of Urdu for administration, see, Christopher Shackle and Rupert Snell. Hindi and Urdu since 1800: A Common Reader. London: SOAS, 1990, pp. 1-8. 30 Jack Goody. The Interface Between the Written and the Oral. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987, pp. 125-38.

a ‘vernacular’ for a ‘new generation’?

291

A similar argument can be made for the Muslim Middle East, where a long Arab intellectual tradition existed as part of an overwhelmingly oral society.31 Indeed, Muslim religious knowledge has been widely accessible in oral societies, and the Quʾran has had a long history of oral usage and significance.32 Therefore, early colonial Punjab offered a diverse linguistic frontier, where several oral and literate languages operated by 1849. This diverse usage must have presented a daunting task for colonial officials. In order to order and evaluate these languages, an entire series of studies was commissioned that helped to formulate colonial knowledge about languages and cultures the region. These studies became central to the later beliefs and attitudes that influenced the development of language policy in the region. 9.2. Constructing Early Colonial Attitudes: Encountering the Punjab The linguistic culture of the region raises an important question about why colonial officials, as they debated official language policy, did not adequately consider local languages, such as Punjabi. In order to evaluate this query and the nature of the language debates, we have to examine how early colonial officials formulated attitudes about language usage. For this purpose, this article concentrates on the construction of colonial attitudes and beliefs about Punjabi, the acknowledged most widely spoken language in the region, especially in the Punjab proper (although not necessarily in the outlying regions). If Punjabi was adopted for the region or at least the Punjab proper, in theory, other regional languages, such as Pushto in the North West Frontier, could be used as well. However, if Punjabi was deemed unsuitable, there would be even less support for other regional languages, such as Pushto, during early colonial rule.

31 For example, see, Albert Hourani. A History of the Arab Peoples. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1991. 32 Orality is important to Muslims as the Qurʾan was revealed to Muhammad orally. It was written down only after the death of Muhammad. However, the Qurʾan is still learned orally and it is common for many Muslims to memorize the entire Quʾran in order to orally recite aiyas (verses) for prayer and ‘folk’ religious purposes.

292

jeffrey m. diamond

The British sought to construct knowledge about the diverse language frontier in the Punjab before 1849, and they formulated an early interest in Punjabi. After annexing the Punjab in 1849, the British actively developed studies and settlement reports of the region. In addition to their concern over language, colonial officials desired to construct knowledge about the different religious groups, and cultural practices in the Punjab as well. Early British interactions, during the formative years of their expanding interests in the region, were in Sikh ruled eastern and central Punjab. Thus, the earliest studies about the Punjab mainly concerned the political history of Sikh rule.33 One of the first British publications was John Malcolm’s Sketch of the Sikhs, written in 1812. Malcolm was an important colonial official who represented British interests in various regions of India and Persia. His early encounter with the Punjab while in the British military lead him to “collect materials that would throw light upon the history, manners, and religion of the Sikhs.”34 The Sketch was an attempt to describe the rulers of a territory. Malcolm also sought to provide information about the Sikh Gurus, starting with Guru Nanak, and offered commentaries on the texts of the Adi Granth. Additional publications that followed Malcolm’s work included Henry Prinsep’s Origin of the Sikh Power. Published in 1834, this text concentrated on Sikh rule in the region.35 After the Punjab’s full annexation in 1849, a Board of Administration was established to oversee the affairs of the Punjab. Colonial officials began to produce detailed studies, and early settlement reports were one of the first efforts to study ‘scientifically’ the people and cultures of the territory. There were several stages of these reports. Early

33 This discussion provides a background for the linguistic studies that are examined in the ensuing section; thus, it is meant to be an illustrative (and not exhaustive) account of early colonial studies and perspectives of the Punjab. 34 John Malcolm. Sketch of the Sikhs; A Singular Nation, Who Inhabit the Provinces of the Penjab, Situated Between the Rivers Jumna and Indus. London: John Murray, 1812, pp. 1-2. Malcolm was born to a large family in Scotland in 1769. He left for India in 1782, and spent considerable time in Persia. The Sketch of the Sikhs was one of several historical writings that also included the Sketch of the Political History of India, 1784–1806, written in 1810. For details of Malcolm’s life, see, Rodney Pasley, ‘Send Malcolm!’ The Life of Major-General Sir John Malcolm, 1769–1933. London: Bacsa, 1982. 35 Henry T. Prinsep. The Origin of the Sikh Power in the Punjab and Political Life of Maharaja Ranjit Singh with an Account of the Religion, Laws and Customs of the Sikhs. Patiala: Languages Department, Punjab, 1970 (reprint of 1834 edition).

a ‘vernacular’ for a ‘new generation’?

293

reports were concise, providing some initial observations and details of various districts.36 The studies were created for revenue and administrative purposes to understand and to manage the large agricultural production in Punjab. Several of these studies attempted to construct knowledge about the social and literary cultures of the greater Punjab, mainly through researching select locations in the region. These works were written in English and Urdu by British officials and their subaltern Indian assistants respectively. For example, a series of tarikhs (histories) were produced from the 1850s to 1870s for each district in Urdu. One such example is the Tarikh-e-Zilla Dera Ismail Khan (History of the Dera Ismail Khan District), written by the Extra Assistant Commissioner of Dera Ismail Khan, Munshi Charanjit Lal.37 The various tarikhs helped to inform the District Gazetteers that were produced throughout the Punjab in the later nineteenth century. Written and English and distributed throughout India, these Gazetteers provided details of each district, from its geography to the language, education, and customs of the people.38 As these studies developed, British attitudes toward Punjabi were connected to their notions of literacy. The significance and practicability of a language was based upon views of the oral (or ‘illiterate’) and written (or literate) word.39 Colonial officials believed that Punjabi predominantly was an oral language, and this belief appeared to be confirmed by ‘scientific’ studies such as the Census. For example, the Census of 1868 continued to reinforce the view that most people in the Punjab were not literate when it stated that only about 380,000 people (mostly men) could read and write in the territory.40 This was roughly 2 percent of the population according to the census data. The belief that Punjabi was the language of the ‘illiterate’ was furthered with the development of

36

For example, see, R.H. Davies, R.E. Egerton, R. Temple, and J.H. Morris. Report of the Revised Settlement of the Lahore District in the Lahore Division. Lahore: Punjab Government, 1860. 37 Munshi Charanjit Lal. Tarikh-e Zillah Dera Ismail Khan. Lahore: Central Jail Press, 1878. 38 For example, see, Gazetteer of the Lahore District, 1883–4. 39 I use the term ‘literate’ only to indicate a language that has significant use in both oral and written forms. 40 The language(s) these people could write was not clear, but it may refer to the literate elite who utilized Urdu, Persian, and other textual languages. Report on the Census of the Punjab, Taken on 10th January 1868. Lahore: Indian Public Opinion Press, 1870, p. 35.

294

jeffrey m. diamond

colonial ethnographic studies. For example, although District Gazetteers confirmed that the primary language of many districts was Punjabi, they also indicated the oral nature of Punjabi. For example, the Gazetteer of the Rawalpindi District stated that, “there were several dialects of Panjabi spoken.”41 This Gazetteer illustrates how colonial officials often referred to Punjabi as spoken, enhancing its position as an oral language. The focus on the oral nature of Punjabi influenced British attitudes toward the language. By focusing on oral culture, the attempts to examine Punjabi literature were more limited. This is perhaps one reason why Grierson later argued that Punjabi had “a very scanty literature.”42 Instead, there were more concerted attempts to document oral traditions. For example, folklore became important in ‘textualizing’ the literary heritage of the region. 9.3. Missionary Encounters with Punjabi in the Early to Middle Nineteenth Century The previous studies helped to illustrate, for the British, that Punjabi was mainly an oral language. In addition, further attitudes and beliefs about Punjabi were developed by the expanding missionary linguistic studies of the region. These philological efforts indicate a concern about Punjabi, as Punjabi was the most widely known language— even according to colonial studies. Yet, while such studies could have helped to improve colonial perceptions of Punjabi, the result of these efforts was the opposite; they helped to foster further negative attitudes toward Punjabi on the part of the colonial administration. The linguistic studies about the Punjab were part of larger programs undertaken by colonial administrations and missionaries in India that had a profound effect upon all Indian languages, including Urdu and Punjabi. Many Indian languages lacked a standard grammar or dictionary during early colonial encounters, yet they were thought to have a

41 Gazetteer of the Rawalpindi District, 1883–1884. Lahore: Civil and Military Gazette, 1884, p. 55. 42 Grierson argued this in 1916, well into colonial rule. Grierson, Linguistic Survey, p. 618.

a ‘vernacular’ for a ‘new generation’?

295

‘standard’ form.43 Colonial administrators and missionaries collected, classified, standardized, and enumerated the languages of India; indigenous languages were altered from having vaguely defined characteristics, as previously described in the Punjab, to being neatly packaged, counted, and outlined.44 These processes often took several decades while colonial rule was established in a region, as grammars, dictionaries and other printed materials ultimately facilitated the standardization of languages.45 The reforms of many North Indian languages had already begun prior to the annexation of the Punjabi in 1849. However, while Punjabi eventually did experience similar processes of standardization, classification and enumeration, these processes had not begun to a significant extent by 1849.46 Therefore, it is vital to analyze the attempts to study Punjabi in late pre-colonial and early colonial Punjab in order to understand how the resulting works influenced subsequent colonial attitudes toward the language and the eventual preference for Urdu over Punjabi as an administrative vernacular in the region. The linguistic efforts to delineate, understand, and standardize Punjabi began in earnest with the first missionary contact in the region prior to the British annexation in 1849. Missionaries required intricate knowledge of local languages to enhance their proselytizing operations. Therefore, they were at the forefront for studying and analyzing Punjabi, as they wrote descriptions and guides about Punjabi from the early nineteenth century. The earliest studies were conducted in the Bengal Presidency, where Protestant missionary activity was established before 1813. One significant group was the Baptist Mission founded by the Rev. William Carey 43 David Washbrook, “ ‘To Each a Language of His Own’: Language, Culture, and Society in Colonial India,” in Penelope J. Corfield (ed.), Language, History, and Class. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1991, pp. 180-1. 44 Sudipto Kaviraj, “Writing, Speaking, Being: Language and the Historical Formation of Identities in India,” in Dagmar Hellmann-Rajanayagam and Dietmar Rothermund (eds.), Nationalstaat und Sprachkonflikte in Süd- und Südostasien. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1992, pp. 25-68. 45 It is important to note that grammars and dictionaries were part of the processes of standardization. The complex reforms also involved the spread of printed works that incorporated such standards, and the use of Punjabi by missionaries. 46 This does not imply that Punjabi was a less important or less ‘advanced’ language, but rather that colonial and missionary attempts to standardize the language had not significantly begun by 1849.

296

jeffrey m. diamond

at Serampore in 1800.47 Carey’s Mission significantly contributed to the study of North Indian languages, especially Bengali. Carey learned various languages, developing Bengali, Marathi, Telugu, Punjabi, and Sanskrit grammars as well as Bengali, Marathi, and Sanskrit dictionaries. He also helped to translate the Bible into various Indian languages. Due to these efforts, Carey became a Professor of Sanskrit, Bengali, and ‘Mahratta’ at the College of Fort William in 1801. Carey had already published grammars of several Indian languages (including Bengali) when he wrote A Grammar of the Punjabee Language in 1812 for his Mission. This was one of the earliest Punjabi grammars written for missionaries or officials of the colonial government. Carey’s grammar was a limited one, intended to furnish short and appropriate rules for the acquisition of this language, without attempting any remarks upon the nature of the grammar in general.48

The grammar provided an introductory discussion about Punjabi; it detailed the gurmukhi character, and then reviewed basic grammatical structures, including nouns, verbs and tenses. Although he did not mention his Indian ‘assistants,’ Carey collaborated with Indian colleagues for his other linguistic efforts.49 Carey’s Grammar was intended for English speakers. Consequently, Carey’s work was one of the earliest to influence colonial and missionary perceptions of Punjabi. Indeed, Carey became one of the first Europeans to associate Punjabi with the Sikhs when he stated that Punjabi was, “spoken by the Shikhs, that singular people, who inhabit the Punjab.” He also believed that Punjabi was “written in a peculiar character called Gooroo-Mookhee,” but he acknowledged that the language was of “mixed

47 Carey located the station in Serampore, A Danish territory near Calcutta, because of the objections of the East India Company to his missionary activities. He was born in 1761, and developed a fondness for learning languages, and became an important missionary and linguist in India. For information about William Carey and his missionary activities, see M. Siddiq Khan, William Carey and the Serampore Books (1800–1834). Copenhagen: Monksgaard, 1961, pp. 204-36; George Smith, The Life of William Carey, D.D.: Shoemaker and Missionary. London: John Murray, 1885. 48 William Carey. A Grammar of the Punjabee Language. Serampur: Mission Press, 1812, Preface. Grierson argued that Carey’s work was “the first to describe the Panjabi language.” Grierson, Linguistic Survey, p. 618. 49 For example, Carey “inspired” pandits and munshis at Fort William College to write Bengali texts. See, Kanti Prasanna SenGupta. The Christian Missionaries in Bengal, 1793–1833. Calcutta: Firma K.L. Mukhopadhyay, 1971, pp. 124-7.

a ‘vernacular’ for a ‘new generation’?

297

origin . . . derived from the Sungskrit . . . and . . . from the Arabic, Persian, Pushtu, and other languages spoken in the vicinity of the Punjab.”50 Early missionary activities also included the publication of biblical literature in Punjabi. Missionaries believed that a translation of the Bible would facilitate the evolution of an indigenous literature. Indeed, Robert Cust, the Judicial Commissioner in the Punjab during the 1860s, argued that the Bible is the “nucleus of an indigenous literature;” due to its translation into an Indian language, “the grammatical structure of the language became fixed, and a certain amount of permanence is guaranteed to its existence.”51 Cust may have exaggerated the role of missionaries, nonetheless, the Serampore Mission published a translation of the New Testament into Punjabi, utilizing the gurmukhi script, in 1811.52 This appears to be the first copy of any portion of the Bible to be published in Punjabi.53 Carey’s Grammar (in progress during 1811) may have facilitated this translation. By 1820, Carey claimed that his translation of the Bible “caused a considerable stir in the minds of the people” in the Punjab at that time.54 The publications of William Carey and his Serampore Mission proved highly influential in the development of Indian languages such as Bengali. However, his publications has a less direct impact upon the development of Punjabi. It is not clear why Carey’s work on Punjabi was not as effective, but his writings may not have been widely available to missionaries and colonial officials who began further studies on Punjabi in the 1830s and 1840s.55 Still, Carey’s efforts at Serampore facilitated the foundation for later missionary efforts. His efforts illustrated that grammars, dictionaries and bibles assisted with missionary activities and

50

Carey, A Grammar, Preface. Robert Needham Cust. “Language, as Illustrated by Bible-Translation,” in R.N. Cust, Notes on Missionary Subjects. Part I. London: Elliot Stock, 1888, p. 64. Cust was sympathetic toward missionaries, and he is discussed in further detail below. 52 Paramesvar de sabh bacan visekhkarkai jo manhkhadi rakia ate kajde sadhle lai prakasia soi dharam pothi. Serampur: Mission Press, 1811. 53 It has been argued that later missionaries did not find Carey’s work useful as they translated the Bible several further times. John S.M. Hooper, (revised by W.J. Culshaw). Bible Translation in India, Pakistan, and Ceylon, 2nd ed. London: Oxford University Press, 1963, p. 135. Yet, this also may have been because each mission sought to provide its own translation and interpretation of various parts of the Bible. 54 Carey is quoted in Smith, The Life of William Carey, p. 263. 55 Carey’s works on Punjabi were not widely diffused in North India. This may be due to the Great Fire of 1812 at the Serampore Mission that destroyed much of Carey’s writings, minimizing their eventual dispersion in India. For information about the fire, see Khan, William Carey, p. 236. 51

298

jeffrey m. diamond

would help to develop certain standards for Indian languages such as Punjabi. The Serampore Mission was one of the earliest missionary societies to develop knowledge about Punjabi, but it was another twenty years before there was a direct missionary impact in the Punjab. In 1833, the American Presbyterian Missionaries established a mission station at Ludhiana, in eastern Punjab.56 As they expanded their activities, they founded important institutions for their proselytizing efforts, such as churches and schools. They also quickly established a printing press to publish materials in English, Persian, Urdu, and of course Punjabi. Due to the press and their linguistic studies of Punjabi, including the publication of grammars and dictionaries, the Ludhiana Mission was highly influential in developing a set of standards for Punjabi. As the Ludhiana Mission was active in the Punjab around the time of annexation, British officials also relied upon the Mission to help develop knowledge about Punjabi. During the military battles between the Sikh rulers of the Punjab and the British in 1846, the Mission published Idiomatic Sentences, in English and Panjabi.57 This book mainly consisted of phrases concerning military affairs, as well as judicial and medical situations. The book developed a rather simplistic notion of language usage based upon colonial concerns. For example, military phrases in Punjabi included, “Are the native officers for the most part very respectful?”58 The authors found their task difficult because there found no “extant” grammar or dictionary to assist with the publication. Carey’s grammar was either not considered useful or was not available for the Ludhiana missionaries. Therefore, the Ludhiana Mission began research on a grammar and dictionary of Punjabi for English speakers after they published a geographical description of the Punjab for the assistance of missionaries and colonial officials in 1850.59

56 For details of the American Presbyterian Mission at Ludhiana, see John C. Lowrie. A Manual of Missions; Sketches of the Foreign Missions of the Presbyterian Church: With Maps Showing the Stations and Statistics of Protestant Missions Among Unevangelized Nations. NY: Anson D.F. Randolph, 1854; John C.B. Webster, “The Christian Community and Change in North India: A History of the Punjab and North India Missions of the Presbyterian Church in the USA, 1834–1914,” PhD dissertation, University of Pennsylvania, 1971. 57 Idiomatic Sentences, in English and Panjabi. Lodiana: American Presbyterian Mission Press, 1846. This work is attributed to Rev. Levi Janvier and Rev. John Newton. 58 Idiomatic Sentences, pp. 12-3. 59 Reverend Levi Janvier provides this background in the Dictionary published in 1854 (examined below). Committee of the Lodiana Mission. A Dictionary of the Panjabi Language. Lodiana: Mission Press, 1854, Preface.

a ‘vernacular’ for a ‘new generation’?

299

The standardization of grammar was an important part in the process of structuring a language that could be taught to missionaries and colonial officials. In 1851, Reverend John Newton published the first Punjabi grammar in English by the Ludhiana Mission. This grammar was explicitly directed to the needs of missionaries and colonial officials during first years of British rule in the Punjab. Indeed Newton stated that, “nothing but the urgent request of friends has caused the publication of this work,” referring to the recent annexation of the Punjab and influx of British officials who were mainly familiar with Urdu.60 Therefore, the relationship of Punjabi to Urdu was an important focus of Newton’s grammar as well. My object simply was to note . . . those things in which this language differed from the Urdu . . . The original plan . . . was to publish merely the alphabet, the declension of the nouns and pronouns, and the conjugations of the verbs, these being the things in respect to which persons already conversant with Urdu, need the most to be informed.61

On one hand, Newton implied that Punjabi and Urdu were closely related, an idea that many colonial officials shared. Yet on the other hand, Newton also began to recognize the differences as he had to contend with two difficulties while he wrote the text. First, following his predecessors, he used gurmukhi (and “romanized” Punjabi, sometimes known as romanized gurmukhi) as the written script for Punjabi. To use gurmukhi, he had to provide a gurmukhi alphabet for officials mainly familiar with the Perso-Arabic nastaliq script commonly used for Urdu. Secondly, Newton realized there were grammatical differences between the languages when he stated that there was no “purely native Grammar” of Punjabi. He either did not know about the early rudimentary ‘grammars’ by Carey and others, or found them of little use.62 Thus, Newton found it necessary to develop a system of grammatical terms and phrases based upon European (and American) categories. For example, the book was divided into several sections, including discussions about the gurmukhi script and the etymology of nouns, adjectives, pronouns, as well as verbs and conjunctions. In

60 John Newton. A Grammar of the Panjabi Language; With Appendices. Lodhiana: American Presbyterian Mission Press, 1851, Preface. 61 Newton, A Grammar, Preface. 62 This also includes the comparative grammar by Robert Leech in 1838 (discussed below) that mainly provided details about vocabulary. Thus, Newton would not have found it helpful.

300

jeffrey m. diamond

addition, there were rules about syntax. Newton’s Grammar influenced future works about Punjabi by beginning the process of standardization of the language by promoting explicit grammatical structures. Following Newton’s Grammar, the American Presbyterian Mission published a Punjabi Dictionary in 1854. The main contributors to the Dictionary were John Newton, along with Reverend Levi Janvier and Reverend Joseph Porter. These missionaries realized that their dictionary was necessary for “mission work” as well as for colonial settlement activities in the Punjab. The dictionary also used gurmukhi and its ‘romanized’ form as the script for Punjabi, following earlier writings about Punjabi. The American Presbyterian Mission’s publications in pre-colonial and early colonial Punjab became an influential standard for the study of Punjabi. The Mission publications relied upon a set of rules, grammar, and style that were used in the eastern Punjabi ‘dialect’ spoken in Ludhiana.63 The grammatical structures and unique terminology were not necessarily shared in other parts of the Punjab. Indeed, there were many dialects of Punjabi in the different districts of the Punjab. These included Siraiki spoken in Multan and the South West Punjab, Majhi spoken in Amritsar and Lahore (considered a standard or ‘pure’ Punjabi by Grierson in his Linguistic Survey of 1916), and ‘European Standard Punjabi’ or ‘Ludhiana Punjabi.’64 The missionary publications on Punjabi provided important knowledge for missionaries and early colonial officials. Indeed, missionaries arguably had a better understanding and appreciation of Punjabi than colonial officials. Thus, their publications influenced colonial attitudes about Punjabi. The Ludhiana Mission’s studies and publications also served as important vehicles for standardizing Punjabi. Their Punjabi standard was used in mission publications (in English), such as their grammar, dictionary, as well as missionary publications in gurmukhi (including translations of the Bible).65 A second edition of

63 This standard continued to be used through the nineteenth century. Consequently, the Gazetteer of the Ludhiana District stated the “The language of the district is Panjabi in a very pure form.” See, Gazetteer of the Ludhiana District, 1888–9. Calcutta: Calcutta Central Press Co., 1890, p. 59. 64 The division of these dialects is based upon Grierson’s analysis on Punjabi from 1916 that still serves as a model for the classification of Punjabi dialects. Grierson, Linguistic Survey, pp. 607-46. 65 In the 1850s, a large function of the Ludhiana Mission press was to publish religious materials for different missionary organizations in the region. This mainly

a ‘vernacular’ for a ‘new generation’?

301

Newton’s Grammar was published in 1866, closely following the text that he wrote in 1851.66 Newton’s grammar also influenced later writings about Punjabi, including the section on Punjabi in John Beames’ classic three-volume work on the Grammar of North India languages in 1872.67 Consequently, Grierson saw their work as a “fountain of instruction in Panjabi for Englishmen.”68 Yet, these processes to standardize Punjabi began in earnest after the establishment of colonial rule in the Punjab, much later than the initial development of Urdu. Thus, Punjabi had a distinct disadvantage by the 1850s, when language policy became a vital concern to colonial officials. 9.4. The Effects of Colonial Attitudes toward Punjabi and the Choice of Urdu as an Administrative Vernacular in Early Colonial Punjab The various linguistic studies of Punjabi and the related empirical research about the Punjab had a vital influence on the development of colonial knowledge about the region. In addition, colonial officials also formulated their own perceptions of Punjabi following annexation. Therefore, this section examines how empirical and linguistic studies as well as colonial perceptions about Punjabi undermined the significance of the language, influencing the decision to utilize Urdu as an administrative vernacular. There were several underlying reasons for the choice of Urdu as the administrative vernacular in northwest India. First, colonial perceptions of Punjabi illustrate why it was not chosen as an administrative language. By the middle of the nineteenth century, colonial officials acquired knowledge about Punjabi from previous studies (including the missionary efforts previously outlined) as well as their experiences formulating administration in the region. Officials encountered many languages that were familiar to them from their administrative experiences included translated portions of the Old and New Testaments in Punjabi. For example, see, The Eighteenth Annual Report of the Lodiana Mission, For the Year Ending September 30th, 1852. Lodiana: American Presbyterian Mission Press, 1852. 66 John Newton. Grammar of the Panjabi Language; With Appendices. Second Edition. Lodhiana: American Presbyterian Mission Press, 1866. 67 John Beames. A Comparative Grammar of the Modern Aryan Languages of India: To Wit, Hindi, Panjabi, Sindhi, Gujarati, Marathi, Oriya, and Bangali. London: Trubner and Co., 1872. 68 Grierson, Linguistic Survey, p. 609.

302

jeffrey m. diamond

in the North-Western Provinces (examined in the ensuing section). Yet, the Punjab region also included new languages and a more diverse use of languages. Consequently, these studies and experiences raised several concerns about the language. One of the central questions regarding colonial attitudes about Punjabi was how to classify the language. Colonial conceptions of languages rested upon a notion of a unique literate-textual canon or tradition and distinct forms of grammar. However, the previous section illustrated that there was no formalized grammatical structure or textual canon for Punjabi in the middle of the nineteenth century, and many dialects were spoken throughout the region. The Ludhiana Mission’s linguistic efforts began around the time of annexation. Therefore, Punjabi did not neatly fit into colonial understanding of language. Moreover, the Punjabi literary tradition incorporated various elements of other traditions. As a result, the diverse nature of Punjabi limited its applicability for administration.69 Moreover, as Punjabi was not yet standardized, the shared grammar and vocabulary of Urdu and Punjabi led to belief that Punjabi was not a distinct language, but a “dialect” of Urdu. In fact, early colonial studies of the Punjabi language asserted that Punjabi was a dialect of Urdu. This is illustrated by a grammar of several languages (including Punjabi) written by Lt. Robert Leech in 1838. The section on Punjabi grammar was elementary and mainly limited to vocabulary. This was due to the fact that Leech asserted that Punjabi, “as spoken in large towns, is a dialect of the Urdu or Hindustani, and differs from it chiefly in having those vowels short that the latter has long.”70 Leech illustrated his belief that pronunciation was the main difference between Punjabi and Urdu by discussing the pronunciation of the number eighteen, athara, in Urdu and the nasalized athara(n) in Punjabi. Although problematic, the implications of Leech’s conclusions were that officials who knew Urdu could easily learn Punjabi, as it was simply a dialect

69 Similarly, the numerous “dialects” of Bengali also hampered its initial use for administration in the early nineteenth century. For a discussion about early British attitudes toward Bengali, see, Christopher R. King. One Language, Two Scripts: The Hindi Movement in Nineteenth Century North India. Bombay: Oxford University Press, 1994, pp. 54-7. 70 R. Leech. Epitome of the Grammars of the Brahuiky, Baluchky, and Panjabi Languages with Vocabulary of the Baraky, Pashi, Laghmani, Cashgari, Teerhai and Deer Dialects. (Reprinted from the 1838 Asiatic Society Journal). Calcutta: R.C. Lepage and Co., 1849, p. 33.

a ‘vernacular’ for a ‘new generation’?

303

of Urdu. Leech’s work was published in book form during the annexation of the Punjab in 1849, as the need for grammars increased. It was one of the first significant colonial studies to explicitly argue that Punjabi was a dialect of Urdu. The more substantial missionary efforts that began at this time (such as Carey’s Grammar) did not radically change the view that Punjabi was a dialect, as they were written for people who already knew Urdu. The view that Punjabi was a dialect of Urdu remained for several years following annexation, and it influenced colonial policy concerning education. In 1862, a question was posed to Captain A.R. Fuller, the Director of Public Instruction in the Punjab, about the viability of Punjabi in the courts. He readily dismissed the advocacy of Punjabi as a “court vernacular” by denigrating the significance of Punjabi. Fuller believed that, “Punjabee is merely a dialect of Urdoo,” and, “As a written language it makes its appearance only in the Goormookhee Character, a bastard form of the Nagree, almost as bad as the Kuyasthe of the N.W. Provinces.”71 Fuller’s attitudes illustrate the low opinions about Punjabi in administrative circles. As the head of the colonial government’s educational establishment of the time, his opinion was highly regarded. For colonial officials, a second concern about Punjabi was the apparent oral nature of the language. This understanding was fostered by early administrative developments in various districts (discussed below) and many empirical studies of the region (including the census data) that illustrated the main spoken language of the region to be Punjabi. Moreover, officials did not view favorably the perceived lack of a strong written tradition. Thus, as colonial perceptions regarding oral language were somewhat negative, the oral nature of Punjabi was not viewed positively. Literacy brought with it notions of civilization and progress, while “illiteracy” (orality) implied almost an ‘uncivilized’ society and social setup. For example, an administrator at one early school in the Simla settlement in 1849 went so far as to describe his illiterate students as “wholly uncivilized.”72

71 Fuller to Sec. Government of Punjab, 22 July 1862, No. 32, in, Nazir Ahmad Chaudhry. Punjab Government Record Office Publications. Development of Urdu as Official Language in the Punjab (1849–1947). Lahore: Evergreen Press, 1977, p. 37. 72 Additional opinions included beliefs that students are “entirely ignorant,” again referring to the students’ inability to read and write to a measurable standard. OIOC (Oriental and India Office Collections), Home/Misc/760, p. 408.

304

jeffrey m. diamond

Thirdly, the belief that Punjabi did not have a strong textual tradition was further undermined by the widely held view that the limited written works of Punjabi were connected to gurmukhi and Sikh texts. This association began with early literary studies of texts in Punjabi that mainly discussed the Sikh Adi Granth. For instance, John Malcolm offered an early attempt to understand these texts in his Sketch of the Sikhs. As a study of “the book of the Sikhs” Malcolm wrote about the “Gurumukh character” of Punjabi.73 Thus, he was one of the first British authors to link gurmukhi with Punjabi. Missionary writings, beginning with the early efforts of William Carey and the Serampore Missionaries (in 1811–1812), also furthered the belief that written Punjabi was associated mainly with gurmukhi texts. The American Presbyterian Mission later believed that gurmukhi was the standard script for Punjabi as well. Thus, they believed that Punjabi (at least in the written form) was the language important to the Sikhs, and they adapted their press to allow them to print Punjabi language materials in the gurmukhi script. They printed the Bible in gurmukhi, and the Dictionary, Grammar, and other texts in a ‘romanized’ version of gurmukhi that they adapted from John Shakespear’s work on Hindustani from the earlier nineteenth century.74 The Ludhiana publications influenced colonial perceptions of Punjabi (especially the widely circulated Dictionary and Grammar). Thus, early colonial administrators understood Punjabi (at least in the written form) to be the language “sacred and important” to the Sikhs, and often used the terms Punjabi and gurmukhi interchangeably.75 The connection between Punjabi, gurmukhi, and the Sikhs helps us to further understand colonial attitudes about Punjabi. As we shall see, colonial officials sought to replace the administrative structures affiliated with Sikh rule and shift authority to local officials and the

73 Malcolm, Sketch of the Sikhs, pp. 1-2. John Malcolm is discussed in the above section about empirical studies of the Punjab. 74 A Dictionary of the Panjabi Language, Preface. John Newton was an influential Orientalist around the turn of the nineteenth century who wrote an Urdu grammar and dictionary. 75 For example, the 1851–1852 Punjab Administration Report stated that gurmukhi was “sacred” and important to Sikhs, implying gurmukhi was a religious language of the Sikhs. “General Report on the Administration of the Punjab Territories, Comprising the Punjab Proper and the Cis and Trans-Sutlej States, for the Years 1851–52 and 1852–53,” in Selections from the Records of the Government of India (Foreign Department). Calcutta: Calcutta Gazette Office, 1854, p. 184; For further documents equating gurmukhi with the Sikhs, see, OIOC, Home/Misc/760, p. 366.

a ‘vernacular’ for a ‘new generation’?

305

new bureaucracy. Moreover, empirical studies such as the census and District Gazetteers, confirmed that the Sikhs were a minority community in the Punjab, and that there was a significant Muslim population in the region. Thus, a language associated mainly with Sikh religious texts (in its written form) could not be supported in such an environment. This shift away from indigenous symbols of authority and rule also had wider implications for the development of other aspects of rule (including education).76 Lastly, the significance of Punjabi to the region also was diminished by the colonial belief that the language was becoming less influential with the establishment of British colonial rule. For instance, the 1851–1852 Punjab Administration Report stated that gurmukhi was decreasing in usage and importance; “Goormookhee, though of sacred origin, and in the days of Seikh supremacy both a courtly and priestly tongue, is now rapidly falling into desuetude.”77 Since gurmukhi was understood to be the main written form of Punjabi, its apparent decline meant that written forms of Punjabi were decreasing in significance. The importance of Punjabi as a literate language was already devalued and the belief that its written form was in decline added credence to this attitude. This was reinforced by the further belief that “Punjabee as a spoken language, is also losing its currency, and degenerating into a mere provincial and rustic dialect.”78 Consequently, these attitudes were important in advancing the role of Urdu as an administrative and educational vernacular in the Punjab. Therefore, the empirical and linguistic studies and colonial attitudes about Punjabi helped to construct the beliefs that Punjabi was a “dialect” of Urdu, primarily an oral language, and was connected to gurmukhi and Sikhs (and thus its significance was in decline with the end of Sikh rule). These negative views of Punjabi influenced the choice of Urdu as an administrative vernacular. In opposition to the beliefs that Punjabi was not suitable for administration, the decision to utilize Urdu was practical, and related to the wider development of administration in north India. As many of the 76 For a study about the reform of indigenous educational structures, see, Diamond, (forthcoming). 77 “General Report on the Administration of the Punjab . . . for the Years 1851–52 and 1852–53,” in Selections from the Records, p. 184. 78 “General Report on the Administration of the Punjab . . . for the Years 1851–51 and 1852–53,” p. 184.

306

jeffrey m. diamond

early colonial officials in the Punjab came from the neighboring NorthWestern Provinces (NWP), the British colonial encounter with Punjab after 1849 was constructed from their administrative knowledge and bureaucratic experiences developed in the NWP. Many officials were trained under the tutelage of the NWP Lieutenant Governor, James Thomason, including John Lawrence.79 Thus, Thomason’s administration effected the formation of colonial bureaucracy in the Punjab, and ultimately influenced language policy as well. The officials who governed early colonial Punjab were part of the paternalistic administrative structures known as “Punjab School“ of administration. The brothers Henry and John Lawrence are both considered the founders of this “School,” but John Lawrence was especially influential in its development.80 Henry Lawrence held sweeping powers as the British Resident at Lahore prior to 1849. Although Henry did not support the annexation of the Punjab, he served as President of the Board of Administration from 1849–1853. John Lawrence was a member of the Board as well. Both brothers debated the future direction of British rule in the region, where John argued for a more interventionist role and the development of formal bureaucratic structures to shift power away from symbols of Sikh rule and the “native aristocracy.”81 John developed considerable experience creating administrative structures when he worked in Delhi and in eastern Punjab prior to 1849. He utilized these experiences to formulate new revenue, judicial, police and affiliated administrative systems for the Punjab, and he convinced the Governor General, Lord Dalhousie, to support these efforts.

79 Peter Penner, The Patronage Bureaucracy in North India: The Robert M. Bird and James Thomason School, 1820–1870. Delhi: Chanakya Publications, 1986, p. 273. 80 John Lawrence was born in 1811. He studied at Haileybury College from 1827– 1829, and then left for Delhi where he worked under Charles Metcalfe. By 1846, he was appointed Commissioner of Jullunder in the annexed Trans Sutlej States of eastern Punjab. During this time, John often officiated as Resident in place of Henry, including serving as Resident from August 1847 to March 1848. His biographies provide details of his life. These include, Sir Richard Temple. Lord Lawrence. London: Macmillam and Co., 1889. Lawrence later became Chief Commissioner of Punjab from 1853–1859, and the Viceroy of India from 1864–1869. 81 This discussion is meant to provide an overview of administrative changes in order to situate the analysis about language and colonial rule. For a background of the Punjab School and the debates between John and Henry Lawrence, see, Sir Richard Temple, Men and Events of My Time in India. London: John Murray, 1882, pp. 51-101. Also see, Harold Lee, “John and Henry Lawrence and the Origins of Paternalist Rule in the Punjab, 1846–1858,” International Journal of Punjab Studies, vol. 2, no. 1, 1995, pp. 65-88.

a ‘vernacular’ for a ‘new generation’?

307

Consequently, John Lawrence became the Chief Commissioner of the Punjab after the Board was dissolved in 1853. John Lawrence established an administration that was reliant upon independent and colorful personalities. Henry and John Lawrence both personally knew and often chose many of the early officials who served in the region. For example, Robert Montgomery, the member of the Board of Administration responsible for judicial affairs, was a personal friend of John Lawrence. Montgomery later became the first Lieutenant Governor of the Punjab in 1859.82 Moreover, John knew many of his high-ranking officials from his time at Haileybury College. Indeed, many officials were educated at the College, an important institution that trained civil servants for the East India Company up to 1856–1867.83 Haileybury students learned Indian languages, including Persian and Urdu, as well as history and political economy. Thus, Haileybury provided a common connection and experience for several high-ranking officials, and this experience influenced their understandings about language. In addition, John Lawrence often served with them in James Thomason’s NWP administration. As many colonial officials central to language debates in the Punjab previously served in the NWP, ideas about language and culture garnered from their colonial experiences in wider North India were subsequently brought to the Punjab. Indeed, the debates about the appropriate administrative vernacular in NWP prior to 1849 influenced many officials in the Punjab. These NWP debates began even prior to Act XXIX of 1837, an act that authorized the Governor-General to replace Persian with Indian “vernacular” languages, as NWP officials sought to utilize Urdu as the official vernacular of the NWP. The Lieutenant-Governor of the NWP, Sir Charles Metcalfe, thought that the language of the courts should be the language of the people.84 The “convenience of the people” was paramount. In deciding a vernacular, a form of the Khari Boli 82 Robert Montgomery was raised near the Lawrence home, and was a contemporary of John at Foyle College. The close relationship between John Lawrence and Robert Montgomery is discussed in, John Lawrence (Audrey Woodiwiss, ed.). Lawrence of Lucknow: A Story of Love. London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1990, p. 197. 83 For example, officials educated at Haileybury included Donald Mcleod. Mcleod served as a Financial Commissioner in 1850s Punjab, and was appointed Lieutenant Governor of the Punjab in 1865. See Frederick Charles Danvers, Sir M. MonierWilliams, et al. Memorials of Old Haileybury College. London: Archibald Constable and Co., 1894, p. 385. 84 A general overview of these debates can be found in, King, One Language, Two Scripts; Shackle and Snell, Hindi and Urdu Since 1800, p. 8.

308

jeffrey m. diamond

dialect around Delhi became the convenient standard for Urdu. For reasons of efficiency and retaining a reliable standard, Urdu in a modified Persian script was chosen for the NWP. NWP administrators believed that Urdu was the natural successor to Persian. It was a ‘vulgar’ version of Persian that could readily replace Persian, as reformers were still developing formalized Urdu structures, grammars, terms, and expressions at that time.85 Consequently, the shared features between Urdu and Persian throughout North India, including the Persian script and the large vocabulary of highly Persianized Urdu, was advantageous for people who knew Persian. Many judges favored Urdu in the Persian nastaliq script, although there were problems with colonial officials retaining Persian vocabulary but merely using ‘Hindustani’ verb structures. Nonetheless, Urdu (Hindustani) became a successor to Persian as an administrative vernacular language that was intelligible to most people in the NWP. These administrative developments had a direct relation to the choice of an administrative vernacular in the Punjab. Most officials who arrived in early colonial Punjab knew Urdu (and often Persian) because they had typically been educated at Haileybury College and because Urdu had already replaced Persian as the official administrative vernacular language in the NWP. Thus, their knowledge of languages and previous administrative experiences in the NWP influenced their approach to language policy and their support of Urdu. The final decision to utilize Urdu as an administrative vernacular was connected to the establishment of the judiciary, and the courts become an early test for its usage. Soon after the British annexed the region, the Board of Administration sought to have a “uniformity in the language used,” as documents submitted to them were “written in Persian, some in Urdu, and some in a mixed dialect composed of both.”86 They believed there was an “obvious advantage” for “the adoption of one uniform language for all Courts and official documents in the districts under the Board.”87 At this point, colonial perceptions about Punjabi influenced the nature of the debate. As there was little support for Punjabi or belief it was

85

Majeed, “ ‘The Jargon of Indostan,’ ” p. 184. “Circular No. 193, 1 June 1849,” in Selected Circular Orders of the Board of Administration for the Affairs of the Punjab in General and Political Departments. Lahore: Punjab Printing Co., 1871, pp. 8-9. 87 “Circular No. 193, 1 June 1849,” in Selected Circular Orders, p. 9. 86

a ‘vernacular’ for a ‘new generation’?

309

an appropriate language, it was not considered in the colonial records for some time. Therefore, the Secretary to the Board of Administration, Punjab sent out a memorandum to all commissioners in the Punjab to inquire whether Urdu or Persian was best suited for administration in various parts of this new territory. In a report about these correspondences, the secretary of the Board stated that the Board’s main concern focused on the vernacular language officials would use “for the public business in the courts of the newly acquired territory.”88 As the courts provided an important avenue for the colonial government to interact with Punjabis, this question held significance for all people of greater Punjab as it was the primary method for the determination of language policy. The Board of Administration believed many people “readily comprehended Urdu, while Persian to them is a foreign tongue,” although they acknowledged Persian was “more familiar” to some.89 Such statements indicate that there was some apprehension about the spoken languages used in the Punjab, but an acknowledgement that Urdu was comprehensible (intelligible) throughout the region. The decision to utilize Urdu in the courts was not simply a directive from the highest levels of government. Indeed, this decision was linked to the importance of local officials who were given enormous power and influence under the administration of the Lawrence brothers, what came to be known as the Punjab School of administration. Consequently, local officials were vital to the debates regarding an administrative vernacular, as there were differences of opinions between various divisional and district commissioners in the Punjab. The early opinions of commissioners that granted a slight advantage to Persian over Urdu in some parts of the Punjab were eventually reversed. In the divisions of Lahore, Jhelum, and parts of the Multan division, Urdu was immediately adopted as being “less foreign” than Persian according to the commissioners in these divisions.90 Many of the divisions of the Punjab, including Peshawar and most of Multan, initially retained Persian. Nonetheless by 1851, the Board decided that Urdu should become the official language of the courts for most districts of the Punjab as many officials already decided to use Urdu in their districts; the main exceptions were border districts

88 This was also for the ease of administration in the newly established colonial judiciary system in Punjab. G.J. Christian Esq. Sec. Board of Administration for Punjab to H.M. Elliot, Sec. GOI, 17 August, 1849, OIOC, Home/Misc/760, pp. 115-8. 89 “Circular No. 193, 1 June 1849,” in Selected Circular Orders, p. 9. 90 OIOC, Home/Misc/ 760, pp. 115-8.

310

jeffrey m. diamond

of Peshawar and Multan, as local officials strongly advocated the retention of Persian.91 The Board of Administration eventually decided to introduce Urdu into those districts still using Persian. John Lawrence especially argued that Urdu was best suited for the Punjab. Indeed in 1851, he stated clearly stated that: It should be considered that the Urdu is not the language of these Districts neither is Persian. But Urdu is well understood by the majority of our officers, whereas Persian is not . . . Urdu is the “Lingua Franca” of India and it is presumably . . . becoming that of all the Districts in the Punjab.92

The convenience of colonial administration was paramount, as Lawrence argued the language that British officials could comprehend also was a factor in the decision of an administrative vernacular.93 Moreover, he did not hesitate to utilize Urdu in the region as he sought to reform local administration. Indeed, Lawrence believed that the introduction of Urdu into the courts would facilitate its usage in the Punjab. As the supposed “lingua franca” of North India, colonial officials presumed Punjabis would wish to use Urdu as well. Therefore, with the official sanction of Urdu, numerous letters encouraged the remaining districts to use Urdu as the language of the courts in the Punjab.94 Punjabi was not considered seriously until the early 1860s, when debates appeared in official discourse. At that time, the Judicial Commissioner of the Punjab, R.N. Cust, stated that Punjabi was better suited for the majority of the courts in the Punjab. Cust was an important member of the Punjab administration who developed an early interest in languages at Haileybury College. His diverse interests included extensive missionary pursuits and writing numerous articles and books

91

Sec. Board of Administration to DC Peshawar and Hazara, 20 September 1849, no. 21, Chaudhry, Development of Urdu as Official Language in the Punjab, pp. 27-8. 92 “Note by John Lawrence,” No. 21, Chaudhry, Development of Urdu as Official Language in the Punjab, pp. 27-8. 93 John Lawrence argued that officials who arrived from the NWP typically were not familiar with Punjabi, and several did not know Persian. Thus, Urdu was the most convenient vernacular language for officials. “Note by John Lawrence,” no. 21, Chaudhry, Development of Urdu as Official Language in the Punjab, pp. 27-8. 94 For example, see the correspondence between the Secretary to the Chief Commissioner, Punjab and the Commissioner of the Leia Division. No. 24, 7 June 1854; No. 25, 10 June 1854; No. 26, 8 June 1854; No. 28, 13 June 1854, in, Chaudhry, Development of Urdu as Official Language in the Punjab, pp. 30-4.

a ‘vernacular’ for a ‘new generation’?

311

about Indian languages and linguistics.95 These pursuits led him to advocate the use of Punjabi. His opinion also may have been influenced by the reality that the courts had to negotiate the usage of Urdu with Punjabi.96 However, he often held views that were not shared by other British officials. Cust’s remarks began a debate about the use of Punjabi as a court vernacular, evoking strong responses to his proposal. It also was an early contradiction of the prevailing attitudes toward Punjabi. However, many officials did not agree with Cust’s conclusions, as their beliefs were influenced by colonial and missionary empirical and linguistic studies about Punjabi. For instance, the Commissioner of the Lahore Division, Thomas Douglas Forsyth—a Haileybury graduate who earned honors for his studies of Persian, Hindustani, Sanskrit, and Hindi—was skeptical about the use of Punjabi for written records due to the lack of a defined textual tradition and grammar.97 Forsyth spent considerable time in various posts throughout the Punjab, and he was well placed within the administrative and linguistic debates at the time. Therefore, he was concerned that there should be one standard administrative vernacular language for the Punjab, which included the Urdu speaking areas of Delhi and Haryana after 1857. He illustrated his concerns by stating that if a munshi from Delhi came to a Lahore Court, he would find, “his flowing Oordoo turned into Punjabi.” Captain N.W. Elphinstone,

95 Robert Needham Cust was educated at Haileybury College from 1840–1842, winning prizes in Hindustani, Arabic, classics, and history. Danvers, Memorials of Old Haileybury College, p. 420. Cust later became a prolific writer of essays on linguistics in India and in Africa as well. For example, see, Robert Needham Cust, Linguistic and Oriental Essays. 2nd series, written from the year 1847 to 1887. London: Trubner, 1887. 96 Although it is difficult to find first hand accounts of courtrooms at that time, we know that many Punjabi who began to use the courts did not speak Urdu (based upon the linguistic culture of the region). Thus, the courts had to negotiate the usage of language, with both Punjabi and Urdu being used in the oral proceedings (and the written records being in Urdu and English). This negotiation still takes place today in many parts of Pakistani Punjab, where Urdu and Punjabi are used side by side for a variety of functions, and Urdu still serves as the primary written language. 97 Thomas Forsyth, Commissioner, Lahore Division, to Sec. GOP, 16 June 1863, no. 33, Chaudhry, Development of Urdu as Official Language in the Punjab, pp. 39-40. Forsyth attended Haileybury College from 1845–1847, where he earned prizes in Persian, Sanskrit, Hindustani, and Hindi. In India, he became acquainted with Henry Lawrence, and by the early 1860s, he was the Commissioner of Lahore Division. For information about Forsyth, see Douglas Forsyth (Ethel Forsyth, ed.), Autobiography and Reminiscences of Sir Douglas Forsyth. London: Richard Bentley and Son, 1887; Danvers, Memorials of Old Haileybury College, p. 434.

312

jeffrey m. diamond

the Deputy Commissioner of Jullundhur also believed that Cust’s plan would “render the proceedings and record of our Division, quite unintelligible to the courts of the next one,” where Urdu or a local Punjabi dialect might be favored.98 Elphinstone further argued that Urdu was the “Vernacular of the Educated classes of the new generation,” and therefore there was no need to utilize Punjabi in the courts. With many officials repudiating Cust’s proposal, Urdu was maintained as the court vernacular in Punjab. The use of Urdu in the Punjab allowed the British to maintain a convenient administrative vernacular throughout North India in the middle of the nineteenth century.99 This common language facilitated administrative work, making the translation of documents and the movement of colonial officials exceptionally easy across North India. Many colonial officials received language instruction in Haileybury College, where Urdu was taught to civil servants intending to work in North India. Their experience in administration also meant that they usually already knew Urdu to some extent. Officials did not necessarily have a background in Punjabi. Moreover, many Bengalis and other Indian assistants who came to the Punjab were familiar with Urdu from work in other regions of North India. Maintaining Urdu as the administrative vernacular proved beneficial to the establishment of administration. The formation of language policy took place during the first years of colonial rule in the Punjab. A more bureaucratic administrative system developed after John Lawrence’s tenure as Chief Commissioner concluded in 1859. However, Lawrence’s influence had far reaching implications for the development of a paternalistic administration in the region. Many officials continued to serve in important posts through the 1860s and 1870s (including many Lieutenant Governors up to Charles Aitchison), and their earlier experiences informed governmental decisions.100 The choice of Urdu had a lasting effect on education and governance in the Punjab.

98 Elphinstone, DC Jullundhur, to Sec. GOP, 8 July 1862, No. 37, Chaudhry, Development of Urdu as Official Language in the Punjab, pp. 46-7. 99 Shackle and Snell, Hindi and Urdu since 1800, p. 8. 100 Lawrence’s influence on successive officials and the administrative structures that developed after his tenure as Chief Minister is discussed in P.H.M. van den Dungen. The Punjab Tradition: Influence and Authority in Nineteenth Century India. London: George Allen and Unwin, 1972, especially pp. 56-66.

a ‘vernacular’ for a ‘new generation’?

313

9.5. Conclusion The ‘objectification’ of Indian languages such as Urdu through colonial analysis and the subsequent patronage of institutions and specialists facilitated the use of Urdu as an administrative vernacular.101 However, Punjabi was not extensively formalized until missionary studies and the subsequent growth of Sikh revival movements such as the Singh Sabha in the late nineteenth century.102 Thus, Punjabi did not have an established standard by the time of the British annexation of the wider Punjab region in 1849. It was a heterogeneous language with various influences. The arrival of missionaries facilitated the processes of standardization, including a formal grammar and writing style. However, regional variations remained, and Punjabi was not fully standardized by the time colonial officials chose an administrative vernacular language for the region. Colonial attitudes and beliefs about Punjabi were vital to these debates. Punjabi was not considered to be a suitable language for administration. For many officials, Punjabi also was viewed as a dialect of Urdu in early colonial Punjab. Later, many officials viewed Punjabi as a language with many regional dialects. Its oral form was denigrated as a low and ‘vulgar’ language, and there were claims that the usage of Punjabi was decreasing. In addition, missionaries and British officials linked the written form of Punjabi to gurmukhi and Sikh religious texts. Although the Punjab was a large region, the diverse linguistic culture of the region was less paramount to the formation of colonial language policy. Instead of celebrating many languages, colonial officials sought to standardize administration by utilizing Urdu as a language that supposedly transgressed territory. Indeed, colonial language policy did not only ignore the varieties of languages and their different uses, but also ignored the spoken repertoires of languages—including the

101 The development of Indian languages such as Urdu involved the patronage of institutions and specialists to support and transmit this knowledge. See, Bernard Cohn, “The Command of Language and the Language of Command,” in Bernard Cohn, Colonialism and its Forms of Knowledge: The British in India. Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1997, pp. 45-7. Diamond, (fortcoming). 102 Christopher Shackle argues that Modern Standard Punjabi did not exist before the twentieth century, after the formation of Sikh reformist organizations that actively promoted the Punjabi language. See, Shackle, “Some Observations,” p. 105.

314

jeffrey m. diamond

supposedly ‘vulgar’ Punjabi spoken throughout the region. Moreover, the administrative experiences of officials from other parts of North India also led officials to favor Urdu. Persian was the administrative language in Sikh ruled Punjab prior to 1849, as it was in Mughal North India. As Urdu replaced Persian throughout other regions of North India prior to 1849, Urdu quickly became the administrative vernacular in Punjab as well. This language policy had wide ranging effects on Punjabi society, as the language chosen for the courts became the administrative vernacular for this new colonial territory. As early as 1851, administrators believed that Urdu, “as the prescribed language of the courts and of the public departments is becoming familiar to the upper and middle classes.”103 Thus, Urdu quickly became the preferred language of various government and government-aided educational institutions as well. As education was a path to service in the colonial government (among the newly forming elite of colonial society), government policies that gave preference to a language or script (as official status) greatly influenced those who attended government institutions. Thus, Urdu became the written language of an educated indigenous elite who worked with the colonial government and Punjabi remained the language of the wider population that did not have access to colonial education. Although early colonial perceptions helped to influence language policy, we can observe the limitations of the policy to this day. Punjabi has remained a vital part of the language terrain. Punjabi, laced with Persian and Urdu words and proverbs, was spoken by the educated elite throughout colonial rule.104 In Indian Punjab today, Punjabi has become standardized and is officially recognized and patronized by government. Even in Pakistan Punjab, where Punjabi has received little official sanction or support, Punjabi has continued to remain an important spoken language.105 However, the preeminence of Urdu at the expense of Punjabi in the regions that form Pakistan Punjab has led

103 “General Report on the Administration of the Punjab . . . for the Years 1851–52 and 1852–53,” p. 184. 104 Prakash Tandon, in his famous ‘memoir’ Punjabi Century, states that his grand uncle, born in 1850, “spoke in clear Punjabi laced with chaste Urdu and Persian and an occasional English word, punctuated with much conscious wisdom and many Punjabi, Persian, and Urdu proverbs.” Prakash Tandon. Punjabi Century: 1857–1947. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1973, pp. 17-23. 105 For a general discussion of this issue, see, Tariq Rahman. Language and Politics in Pakistan. Karachi: Oxford University Press, pp. 199-209.

a ‘vernacular’ for a ‘new generation’?

315

to larger problems for the postcolonial state and society. Elite attitudes and beliefs about regional languages (and the people who primarily utilize them) remain rather negative although these regional languages have retained their influence among the majority of the population. This article has examined the historical roots of such debates. References Acharya, Poromesh. (1996). “Indigenous Education and Brahminical Hegemony in Bengal.” In Nigel Crook (ed.), The Transmission of Knowledge in South Asia: Essays on Education, Religion, History, and Politics. Delhi: Oxford University Press. Ahmad, Aziz. (1999). Studies in Islamic Culture in the Indian Environment. Delhi: Oxford University Press, (reprint of 1966 edition). Alam, Muzaffar. (1998). “The Pursuit of Persian: Language in Mughal Politics.” Modern Asian Studies, vol. 32, no. 2, May 1998. Bayly, C.A. (1996). Empire and Information: Intelligence Gathering and Social Communication in India, 1780–1870. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Beames, John. (1872). A Comparative Grammar of the Modern Aryan Languages of India: To Wit, Hindi, Panjabi, Sindhi, Gujarati, Marathi, Oriya, and Bangali. London: Trubner and Co. Carey, William. (1812). A Grammar of the Punjabee Language. Serampur: Mission Press. Chaudhry, Nazir Ahmad. (n.d). Punjab Government Record Office Publications. A Guide to thePunjab Secretariat Record Office, Lahore. Lahore: Punjab Government. ——. (1972). Punjab Government Record Office Publications. Calendar of Persian Correspondence: Collection of Treaties, Sanads, Letters, Etc., Passed Between the East India Company, Sikhs, Afghans, and other Notables, vol. 1. Lahore: Superintendent, Government Printing. ——. (1977). Punjab Government Record Office Publications.Development of Urdu as Official Language in the Punjab (1849–1947). Lahore: Evergreen Press. Cohn, Bernard. (1997). “The Command of Language and the Language of Command,” in Bernard Cohn. Colonialism and its Forms of Knowledge: The British in India. Delhi: Oxford University Press. Committee of the Lodiana Mission. (1854). A Dictionary of the Panjabi Language. Lodiana: Mission Press. Cust, Robert Needham. (1888). “Language, as Illustrated by Bible-Translation,” in R.N. Cust. Notes on Missionary Subjects. Part I. London: Elliot Stock. ——. (1887). Linguistic and Oriental Essays. 2nd series, written from the year 1847 to 1887. London: Trubner. Danvers, Frederick Charles, Sir M. Monier-Williams, et al. (1894). Memorials of Old Haileybury College. London: Archibald Constable and Co. Davies, R.H., R.E. Egerton, R. Temple, and J.H. Morris. (1860). Report of the Revised Settlement of the Lahore District in the Lahore Division. Lahore: Punjab Government. Diamond, Jeffrey M. (forthcoming). Negotiating Muslim Identity: Education, Print and Intellectuals in Nineteenth Century Colonial North India. Cambria. Eaton, Richard M. (1984). “The Political and Religious Authority of the Shrine of Baba Farid,” in Metcalf, Barbara (ed.), Moral Conduct and Authority: The Place of Adab in South Asian Islam. Berkeley: University of California Press, pp. 333-56. ——. (1852). The Eighteenth Annual Report of the Lodiana Mission, For the Year Ending September 30th, 1852. Lodiana: American Presbyterian Mission Press.

316

jeffrey m. diamond

Forsyth, Douglas (Ethel Forsyth, ed.). (1887). Autobiography and Reminiscences of Sir Douglas Forsyth. London: Richard Bentley and Son. ——. (1884). Gazetteer of the Lahore District, 1883–4. Lahore: Punjab Government. ——. (1890). Gazetteer of the Ludhiana District, 1888–9. Calcutta: Calcutta Central Press Co. ——. (1884). Gazetteer of the Rawalpindi District, 1883–4. Lahore: Civil and Military Gazette. ——. (1854). “General Report on the Administration of the Punjab Territories, Comprising the Punjab Proper and the Cis and Trans-Sutlej States, for the Years 1851–52 and 1852–53,” in Selections from the Records of the Government of India (Foreign Department). Calcutta: Calcutta Gazette Office. Goody, Jack. (1987). The Interface Between the Written and the Oral. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Grewal, J.S. (1975). In the By-Lanes of History: Some Persian Documents from a Punjab Town Simla: Indian Institute of Advanced Study. Grierson, George A. (1916). Linguistic Survey of India. Vol. IX, Indo-Aryan Family Central Group. Specimens of Western Hindi and Panjabi. Calcutta: Superintendent of Government Printing. Hooper, John S.M. (revised by W.J. Culshaw. (1963). Bible Translation in India, Pakistan, and Ceylon. 2nd ed. London: Oxford University Press. Hourani, Albert. (1991). A History of the Arab Peoples. Cambridge: Harvard University Press. ——. (1846). Idiomatic Sentences, in English and Panjabi. Lodiana: American Presbyterian Mission Press, 1846. This work is attributed to Rev. Levi Janvier and Rev. John Newton. Kaviraj, Sudipto. (2003). “The Two Histories of Literary Culture in Bengal,” in Sheldon Pollock, ed. Literary Cultures in History: Reconstructions from South Asia. Berkeley: University of California, Press. ——. (1992). “Writing, Speaking, Being: Language and the Historical Formation of Identities in India.” In Dagmar Hellmann-Rajanayagam and Dietmar Rothermund (eds.), Nationalstaat und Sprachkonflikte in Sud- und Sudostasien. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag. Khan, M. Siddiq. (1961). William Carey and the Serampore Books (1800–1834). Copenhagen: Monksgaard. King, Christopher R. (1994). One Language, Two Scripts: The Hindi Movement in Nineteenth Century North India. Bombay: Oxford University Press. Lal, Munshi Charanjit. (1878). Tarikh-e Zillah Dera Ismail Khan. Lahore: Central Jail Press. Lawrence, John (Audrey Woodiwiss, ed). (1990). Lawrence of Lucknow: A Story of Love. London: Hodder and Stoughton. Lee, Harold. (1995). “John and Henry Lawrence and the Origins of Paternalist Rule in the Punjab, 1846–1858,” International Journal of Punjab Studies, vol. 2, no. 1. Leech, R. (1849). Epitome of the Grammars of the Brahuiky, Baluchky, and Panjabi Languages with Vocabulary of the Baraky, Pashi, Laghmani, Cashgari, Teerhai and Deer Dialects. (Reprinted from the 1838 Asiatic Society Journal). Calcutta: R.C. Lepage and Co. Leitner, G.W. (1991). History of Indigenous Education in the Punjab Since Annexation and in 1882. Lahore: Republican Books (reprint of 1882 original). Lowrie, John C. (1854). A Manual of Missions; Sketches of the Foreign Missions of the Presbyterian Church: With Maps showing the Stations and Statistics of Protestant Missions AmongUnevangelized Nations. NY: Anson D.F. Randolph. Majeed, Javed. (1995). “ ‘The Jargon of Indostan’: An Exploration of Jargon in Urdu and East India Company English,” in Peter Burke and Roy Porter (eds.), Languages and Jargons: Contributions to a Social History of Language.Cambridge, MA: Polity Press.

a ‘vernacular’ for a ‘new generation’?

317

Malcolm. John. (1812). Sketch of the Sikhs; A Singular Nation, Who Inhabit the Provinces of the Penjab, Situated Between the Rivers Jumna and Indus. London: John Murray. Newton, John. (1851). A Grammar of the Panjabi Language; With Appendices. Lodhiana: American Presbyterian Mission Press. ——. (1866). Grammar of the Panjabi Language; With Appendices. Second Edition. Lodhiana: American Presbyterian Mission Press. O’Connell, Joseph, Milton Israel, and Willard Oxtoby (eds.) (1988), “Sikh History and Religion in the Twentieth Century,” Toronto: South Asian Studies, Univ. of Toronto, pp. 105-7. ——. (1811). Paramesvar de sabh bacan visekhkarkai jo manhkhadi rakia ate kajde sadhle lai prakasia soi dharam pothi. Serampur: Mission Press. Pasley, Rodney. (1982). ‘Send Malcolm!’ The Life of Major-General Sir John Malcolm, 1769–1933. London: Bacsa. Penner, Peter. (1986). The Patronage Bureaucracy in North India: The Robert M. Bird and James Thomason School, 1820–1870. Delhi: Chanakya Publications. Prinsep, Henry T. (1970). The Origin of the Sikh Power in the Punjab and Political Life of Maharaja Ranjit Singh with an Account of the Religion, Laws and Customs of the Sikhs. Patiala: Languages Department, Punjab (reprint of 1834 edition). Rahman, Tariq. (1997). Language and Politics in Pakistan. Karachi: Oxford University Press. ——. (2006). “Urdu as an Islamic Language,” Annual of Urdu Studies, vol. 21. ——. (1870). Report on the Census of the Punjab, Taken on 10th January 1868. Lahore: Indian Public Opinion Press. Schiffman, Harold F. (1996). Linguistic Culture and Language Policy. London: Routledge. ——. (1871). Selected Circular Orders of the Board of Administration for the Affairs of the Punjab in General and Political Departments. Lahore: Punjab Printing Co. SenGupta, Kanti Prasanna. (1971). The Christian Missionaries in Bengal, 1793–1833. Calcutta: Firma K.L. Mukhopadhyay. Shackle, Christopher (1977). Catalogue of the Panjabi and Sindhi Manuscripts in the India Office Library. London: Indian Office Library and Records. ——. (1988). “Some Observations on the Evolution of Modern Standard Punjabi,” in Joseph O’Connell, Milton Israel, and Willard Oxtoby (eds.), Sikh History and Religion in the Twentieth Century. Toronto: South Asian Studies, Univ. of Toronto. ——. (1989). “Urdu as a sideline: the poetry of Khwaja Ghulam Farid,” in Christopher Shackle (ed.), Urdu and Muslim South Asia: Studies in Honour of Ralph Russell. London: SOAS. ——. (1995). “Between Scripture and Romance: The Yusuf-Zulaikha Story in Panjabi,” South Asia Research, vol. 15, no. 2. —— and Rupert Snell. (1990). Hindi and Urdu since 1800: A Common Reader. London: SOAS. Shakespear, John. (1820). A Dictionary, Hindustani and English. London: Cox and Baylis (2nd ed.). Smith, George. (1885). The Life of William Carey, D.D.: Shoemaker and Missionary. London: John Murray. Spolsky, Bernard. (2004). Language Policy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Takkar, Amrit Lal. (1996). Descriptive Catalogue of Panjabi Manuscripts in the Vrindaban Research Institute. Vrindaban: Vrindaban Research Institute. Tandon, Prakash. (1973). Punjabi Century: 1857–1947. Berkeley: University of California Press. Temple, Sir Richard. (1889). Lord Lawrence. London: Macmillam and Co. ——. (1882). Men and Events of My Time in India. London: John Murray. van den Dungen, P.H.M. (1972). The Punjab Tradition: Influence and Authority in Nineteenth Century India. London: George Allen and Unwin.

318

jeffrey m. diamond

Washbrook, David. (1991). “ ‘To Each a Language of His Own’: Language, Culture, and Society in Colonial India,” in Penelope J. Corfield (ed.), Language, History, and Class. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Webster, John C.B. (1971). “The Christian Community and Change in North India: A History of the Punjab and North India Missions of the Presbyterian Church in the USA, 1834–1914,” PhD dissertation, University of Pennsylvania. Zaman, Muhammad Qasim. (1999). “Commentaries, Print and Patronage: Hadith and the Madrasas in Modern South Asia,” Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies, vol. 62, no. 1.

CHAPTER TEN

BALOCHI: TOWARDS A BIOGRAPHY OF THE LANGUAGE Brian Spooner 10.1. Introduction The Baloch, speaking a language classified by linguists as Northwest Iranian, are generally thought to have arrived from the northwest in what is now southeastern Iran and western Pakistan in waves between 1000 and 1500 ad. Some of them settled and Balochized the existing settled communities. Some remained nomadic. The nomads are still considered by many Baloch to be the true Baloch, who preserve the old ways best. Other tribal groups have immigrated into the area since, and similarly adopted Balochi language and identity. Balochi1 is known in the literature of area studies and linguistics as a series of dialects, for the most part mutually intelligible, differing mainly in vocabulary and the degree of influence from neighboring languages, mainly Persian (cf. Elfenbein 1989a, 1989b). It is spoken by three to five million2 people in Pakistan, Iran, Afghanistan, Oman and the Persian Gulf states, Turkmenistan, East Africa, and diaspora communities in other parts of the world. But some communities on the peripheries of this distribution, isolated from other Balochi-speaking communities in Punjab, Sindh, India and elsewhere, have ceased to be Balochispeaking. The most important contributors to modern studies of the Baloch have been Joseph Elfenbein and Carina Jahani. Jahani (1989: 86-90) summarises the official status of Balochi in each country, and is a valuable source for the situation with regard to standardization and literacy up to 1989. She has also made available much significant new work as well as other useful bibliography in the Studia Iranica

1 Often written Baluchi, when it is Romanized from Persian which does not distinguish written /o/ from /u/. In this article I have used Baloch for the people, and Balochi for the language, except where there is a reason to Romanize from a Persian context. 2 Some claim many more, and national censuses are indeterminate, except for Turkmenistan where the 1989 Soviet census lists 29,000 Baloch (Axenov 2006: 19).

320

brian spooner

Upsaliensia series at Uppsala (such as Ahangar 2007, Axenov 2000 and 2006, Baranzehi 2003, Bashir 2007). Details of other important work are also included in the bibliography at the end of this chapter (Bashir 1991, Barker 1969, Collett 1983, Farrell 1989, 1990, 1995, Korn 2009, Nawata 1981, Rzehak 2003). The foundational studies of Balochi, by M. Longworth Dames, William Geiger, George Gilbertson, and G.A. Grierson are also listed. Although a Baloch state was established at Kalat (located now in Pakistan) in 1638 (cf. Spooner 1984, 1989), under a dynastic Khan, this political centralization did not survive through the colonial period and did not lead to standardization of the language. The medium of administration in this state, which became known as the Khanate of Kalat, was Persian, as was customary down to the 19th century throughout south and central Asia and beyond (see Spooner, this volume). Kalat was taken over by Ahmad Shah Durrani, and incorporated into the new Afghan Empire in the late 1740s, but broke away and became independent again in the mid-1750s, remaining so until the arrival of the British in 1839. Efforts to establish a standard written Balochi began with the ethnic awareness that emerged during the period of British suzerainty (1839–1947). After Kalat and its dependencies acceded to Pakistan in 1948 Balochi was recognised as one of the national languages of Pakistan, and publication in Balochi (supported by government funding) favored some dialects over others, but still did not lead to general acceptance of a standard. Sokolova (1953) provides a useful review of publication in Balochi down to that time. Similar state recognition was granted to Balochi in Afghanistan after the communist Putsch in 1978, with similar lack of significant effect. There has been no comparable state recognition of Balochi in Iran or in any of the other countries with Balochi-speaking minorities, except to a limited extent in Turkmenistan, and more recently in Afghanistan (see below, and Moshkalo 2000). Meanwhile, although literacy rates in the region have risen significantly over the past generation, the rise in Balochi literacy has been slow, and generally negligible. Literacy for most Balochi-speakers is not in Balochi, but in Urdu in Pakistan and in Persian in Afghanistan and Iran. Even now very few Baloch read Balochi, in any of the countries, even though the alphabet in which it is printed is essentially identical with Persian and Urdu. Despite efforts to make Balochi a medium of written and print communication, Baloch who read Urdu or Persian comfortably and could easily make out Balochi on a

balochi: towards a biography of the language

321

printed page, claim to find it illegible, though there is no difficulty for a non-native speaker. This is a situation which needs to be explained both in terms of the way people read and of the historical status of the three languages. Although the script is alphabetic, in general people read by unconscious recognition of the shapes of common combinations of letters, rather than by phonetic construction of words from individual letters. This is especially true of languages written in the Arabic script, because writing works in terms of established penstrokes including particular serial combinations of letters, rather than by the simple connection of whatever letters are required to form any particular word. Most of the established pen-strokes in Urdu are different from those in Persian. Those needed for writing in Balochi are different again, and therefore unfamiliar to readers already accustomed to either Persian or Urdu and difficult to read. In general also there is still an historical expectation that writing should be in Persian or Urdu, rather than Balochi. But without a growth in literacy rates or increase in use in electronic (non-oral) media Balochi is unlikely to achieve standardization, or to increase in national significance. Currently, however, its use is central to local political as well as cultural identity within Baloch-majority areas. This is due to its historical use as the medium of public life among the Baloch, and as the medium of interaction between subcommunities who have come to consider themselves Baloch even if they retain the use of another language. We may therefore expect that if socio-political identity continues to rise among the Baloch, as it has over the past generation or so, its use in electronic media will increase and a standard form of the language will emerge. In Afghanistan, Iran and Pakistan, the Baloch live in areas that are poor in resources, and have historically received little attention from the national government. Under current processes of globalization this situation may change, with consequences for the Baloch and their language that are not yet predictable. The history of the Baloch and their language over the past four centuries makes Balochi an interesting case for modern language policy studies—one in which linguists, anthropologists, historians and political scientists all have a stake. Besides providing a detailed description of a variety of processes of language change, the value of such a study lies in the light it would shed on a transnational identity in a globalizing world. My aim in this chapter is to justify this statement. I will start by reviewing the history of the Baloch: how they arrived in their current locations and the significance of the configuration of their modern communities. Along the way I will point to consequences for

322

brian spooner

the evolving status of Balochi. I will conclude with a summary of what can be said of current policy regarding Balochi in the countries we will have visited.3 10.2. Balochi in the Light of Baloch History True to the 14th-century Arab historian ibn Khaldun’s model of historical relationships between tribal nomadic and settled agricultural populations, besides the Kalat Khanate the Baloch made other efforts to take over settled communities. None of them is well known historically. The most significant case is that of the Baloch Talpur Mirs, who ruled Sindh before it was annexed by the British in 1843. Another is Las Bela which was established under a Baloch with the local title Jam in 1742. In both these cases the local population was Sindhi, but even though Sindhi had become a written language at least as early as the 16th century, the literacy ratio was very low and Balochi was the language of the ruling family. A similar case in southeastern Iran will be reviewed below. The earliest extant text (i.e. direct evidence) of Balochi is a ms in the British Museum, published by Elfenbein (1983), who dates it to around 1820. It is important to note that this is a period when several languages in the region are for the first time beginning to compete with Persian as written languages. In the part of Balochistan that came under British suzerainty the amount of textual material gradually increases in the course of the colonial period, during which time first Kalat (on the plateau) and later Las Bela (on the coast) and Kalat’s western dependencies (Kharan, and eastern Makran, centered on Turbat) were recognised by the British as Princely States. A century later, seven months after the Partition of British India in August 1947, lacking the support that would have been necessary for independence, the whole of Balochistan that had been included in British India acceded to Pakistan. Balochi was now the language of one of four provinces of West Pakistan. Next, all four Baloch Princely States (Kalat, Kharan, Las Bela, Makran) were joined together in the Balochistan States Union of West Pakistan in 1952 (with the Khan of Kalat as the Khan-e Aʿzam, or Great Khan). This arrangement lasted until 1955, when 3 This account is based on my own research with the Baloch in Afghanistan, Iran and Pakistan between 1958 and 1985, enriched by data from the works cited below.

balochi: towards a biography of the language

323

the Union was formally absorbed into the unitary province of West Pakistan, together with the area known as British Balochistan along the Afghan border (which had been directly ruled from Calcutta, and later New Delhi). The current Pakistani Province of Balochistan, including all these earlier divisions, was established after East Pakistan broke away to become Bangladesh in 1971. Since that time various movements have arisen among the Baloch (whose leaders never fully acquiesced in the accession to Pakistan) to seek independence from Pakistan, or minimally to renegotiate the relationship with the central government in Karachi, and later in Islamabad.4 Tariq Rahman (1996) classifies Balochi as one of 65 languages in Pakistan. It is one of the six official languages, but not one that can be used for any form of nationally recognised or useful qualification. He records that 3.57% of the population speak it, and that it is a strong identity symbol but of no value for either economic or political advancement. The Province of Balochistan, however, covers over 43% of Pakistan’s territory, and Balochi is the primary language associated with it. Hostility to the Federal Government in Islamabad has grown, most particularly among the Marri and Bugti tribes in the northeast of the Province. The discovery of a cache of arms in the Iraqi embassy in Islamabad in 1973, supposedly destined for delivery to the Marri Baloch in the northeast of Balochistan Province, led to an escalation of the Government’s efforts to suppress Baloch opposition, which in turn increased their sense of political identity. In 1974 the Marri went into full rebellion, and some migrated into southern Afghanistan, where they remained for over a decade (despite the Russian occupation). The problem has not been resolved. Nominally the Baloch in modern Pakistan have a significant degree of political autonomy in that the province elects and forms its own provincial government. However, the Baloch have been unable to benefit from this situation, partly because of the divisions among the communities that formed the Princely States of the British period, and partly because of the number of Pashtuns who are included in the part of the Province that was British Balochistan (that is, under direct British administration) along the border of Afghanistan. 4

Islamabad was constructed as the new national capital in the 1960s and began functioning as such in the early 1970s. Its location was chosen to provide better access to the seat of government from all parts of the country. In fact, however, it reduced accessibility from Balochistan.

324

brian spooner

The relationship between the Baloch and the Pashtuns is complex, since neither community is politically centralized. They are closely related culturally as well as historically. Balochi and Pashto are both Iranian languages, but only distantly related and with no degree of mutual intelligibility. However, since the incorporation of the Baloch into the Afghan Empire in the mid-18th century, if not before, there has been a transitional zone in northern Balochistan and along either side of the border with Afghanistan, which is inhabited by communities of both identities. There is evidence that some Pashtun communities have assimilated to Baloch identity over the past two hundred years. An interesting explanation of this process has been offered by Barth (1964). The whole of Balochistan was included in the territory claimed by the movement to declare a new country, to be called Pashtunistan, which was promoted by the Afghan government in the middle of the last century, in reaction to the inclusion of a large proportion of all Pashtuns in the new state of Pakistan when the British withdrew in 1947. The political history of the Baloch in Iran has been different, but interrelated. The difference is partly the result of distance from Kalat, beyond the reach of the Khan, but more importantly due to differences between the larger government interests extending into the area from Kabul, New Delhi and Tehran. Political movements against the authority of the central government in Tehran have been similar to those of the Pakistani Baloch against the Government of Pakistan. But early in the 19th century a new element appeared. A branch of the Barakzai line of the Durrani ruling clan of Pashtuns in Afghanistan appeared among the Baloch in Saravan, in what is now the Iranian province of Sistan and Baluchistan. Since this was not long after the internecine fighting between the two main branches of the Durrani clan in Herat in 1817–1819, it is possible that the migration resulted from that clash, but no textual or other evidence has survived to substantiate the connection. Gradually these Pashtun Barakzai managed to replace the local leaders in Saravan, Bampur and western Makran. They also assimilated to a Baloch identity. These leadership positions were comparable to those of Kharan and Makran that became Princely States under the British, but the Iranian conception of the state did not recognise any degree of local autonomy. In Iranian Balochistan there are several other agricultural settlements with non-Balochi names that appear to have continuous histories from before the arrival into the area both of Islam and of the Baloch, many of which had local rulers who claimed non-Baloch origins, comparable to the Barakzai.

balochi: towards a biography of the language

325

Barakzai power and regional authority grew in the early decades of the 20th century when, following the efforts of Muhammad Shah to extend his authority into Balochistan in the 1830s, his successors in the Qajar dynasty in Tehran had little interest in such distant parts of the country. However, when Reza Shah Pahlavi deposed the Qajars and launched his new nationalistic modernizing regime in 1925, he spent the first years restoring the authority of the national government throughout Iranian territory as it had been defined in border negotiations with the British and the Russians starting in 1871. As with previous rulers the Baloch were last on his list. Finally, in 1928 he sent an army against them under General Amir Amanullah Jahanbani, which had little difficulty in defeating the alliance of tribes that the incumbent, Dust Muhammad Khan Barakzai, namesake of the Afghan 19th century ruler (1826–1863), had assembled (see Jahanbani 1957, 1959). The two efforts to build a Baloch state to include all or most of the Baloch—the Ahmadzais in Kalat and the Barakzais in Bampur— both failed to survive through the 20th century. But these indigenous efforts distinguished the Baloch situation from that of the Kurds or Azari-speakers, who have not established their own central authority, except ephemerally with Soviet assistance after WWII. However, although the Baloch were not reliable fighters for their own leaders, they were always ready to fight for others. In particular they formed the army of the Muscadine Empire in the Persian Gulf and the western Indian Ocean in the 19th century, remained in Zanzibar till the revolution in 1963 (initially filling the position of Viceroy), and traded in East Africa (cf. Lodhi 2000, Nicolini 2008), moving as far west as the Congo (where some were observed by an ethnographer as late as the 1950s). Several Baloch tribes settled in Oman earlier and became Arabic-speaking (cf. Foxton 1985). Others developed trading relationships with the other Gulf states, which continue down to the present. There were abundant opportunities for Baloch to trade and find employment under the British, and some joined the merchant marine and gained experience of other parts of the world. Meanwhile, in eastern Iran the Alam family, descended (like the Durrani Shahs of Afghanistan) from one of Nader Shah’s5 generals, and established since that time in the Quʾenat in what became eastern Iran, had extended its influence south

5 Nader Shah (1736–1747), who replaced the Iranian Safavid dynasty (1501–1722), was assassinated in Mashhad in 1747.

326

brian spooner

into Sistan and Baluchistan, and used the Baloch as retainers. It is possible that Baloch from the Sarhadd (lit. “borderland,” the northern part of Iranian Baluchistan) had raided north before this time, but in the 19th century their relationship with the Alams encouraged them further. In the 1950s there was still a community of Baloch north of the central deserts west of Esfaraʾin in northwestern Khorasan (Iran). Some moved further north and settled in what is now Turkmenistan. The extent of this dispersal raises the question: how could the Baloch maintain a single cultural, linguistic and political identity over such a vast geographical extent, before the era of modern communications, with nothing to hold them together—no central place or authority, and no written language or means of communication among far-flung communities speaking different dialects. The answer to this question appears to lie in the cultural significance they attributed to pastoral nomadism and a mobile rather than a settled agricultural life. The degree to which language played a role in this process was introduced by Barth (1964). Here I will summarise Barth’s argument and elaborate on it from my own experience. 10.3. Balochi as a Criterion of Baloch Identity The Baloch have been held together, and perhaps even able to expand, because their sense of common identity lay in acceptance of institutional forms of behavior among strangers, forms in which language was a central component, and the necessary standard forms were shared across dialects. To be accepted as a Baloch one had to do little more than do as the Baloch did. It was a hierarchical society with an oral culture. Anyone could be accepted so long as they assimilated to the behavioral norms that signified acceptance of a position in the political hierarchy of communities. The most important general institutions which are a part of everyday Baloch life concern meetings and exchange of information (cf. Barth 1964: 13-4). Although Baloch etiquette and formality is minimal compared to (for instance) Persian, except when he is with intimates the Baloch is properly always dignified, formal and laconic (sangin). When a man enters another’s house he says the traditional Islamic greeting— salaam alaikum (peace be on you) and equals and inferiors rise. The newcomer “gives” hands with his host and any other men present with whom he has or would like to have some personal relationship. The

balochi: towards a biography of the language

327

host is not necessarily the owner of the house. The honorary role of host is played by the most senior man present who is least traveller (musafer), i.e. a more senior man after the first day or so of his stay is treated as though he were the owner and host. The newcomer then sits in the place indicated by the host, and the host turns to him, and does the wash-atk (Bal. wash-atk akant), thus: Host wash ātke juŗ e mehrabāni kan tau mehrabāni kan habar kan

Newcomer you are welcome wash ātke you are welcome are you well juŗ e are you well do kindness hodāi mehrabān int God is kind you do kindness talk, tell the news

In a formal situation the newcomer will then give a short resumé of the news he has, e.g., where he has come from (also, of course, in the unusual circumstance where this is not already known, who he is), what he has seen on his way and any recent developments in the region he has come from, in a nomadic region who is camped where, assuming of course that he has no reason for wanting to keep his hosts ignorant of these things. He will then, the formalities over, ask the health individually of the others present, including the families of any whom he may know, with the phrases juŗ e? daḍḍ e? sharr daḍḍe? He will not be pressed to give the reason for his coming until (if he stays) the third day. Where two or more meet away from a settlement or camp the procedure differs only in that whoever is senior does the wash-atk. (I never observed any disagreement over who was senior.) If any are mounted, they dismount some ten yards or more before meeting. Then they walk towards each other, give hands, say salaam alaikum, and sit in a circle. If the men concerned have met before the same day, or if each knows that the other is local the procedure is abbreviated, but not omitted. The general Balochi word for news is hal (from the Arabic hal condition, situation, actuality). It is constantly being sought and exchanged. The two main occasions for the exchange of hal and the wash atk are the diwan (“court,” from Sasanian usage, 224-651 ad), an institutionalized gathering intimately connected with the position of any senior personage. Although life among the Baloch has changed over the past half century as their interaction with a larger national society has increased,

328

brian spooner

these practices are still recognised and have not lost their cultural value. One may assume that this function of the language belongs to a particular historical phase of the developing relationship between the Baloch and their neighbors. Although there is no historical evidence, it is easy to understand how such a function would have evolved under regimes of Baloch rulers who could not use literacy for local administration. Although this use of the language continues, Balochi is now a written language and has been evolving slowly in this new dimension of remote interaction over the past fifty years. But still very few Baloch read Balochi, and fewer write it, and those who do are mostly in Pakistan. The foundations of Balochi literacy were laid by foreigners in the 19th century, mostly by missionaries. The interests of the Baloch were also served significantly by the production of the multivolume Baluchistan District Gazetteer Series, published in 1906–1907, which included a great deal of information on the language as well as the sense of identity and the cultural life associated with it, making them one of the best documented non-literate peoples anywhere. The earliest periodical publication appears to have been Bolan, a literary weekly published in Quetta before Independence, perhaps as early as the 1930s (see Elfenbein 1989a, and Jahani 1989: 135). We lack data on printruns and readership. Publication in Balochi was subsidized by the Federal Government when the Balochistan States Union acceded to Pakistan in 1948. But it appears to have peaked in the 1960s. Other initiatives designed to raise the status of Balochi to a national level (all in Pakistan) include regular radio broadcasts (Baloch 1985), the establishment of a Balochi Academy in 1957 in Quetta (the provincial capital), and a Balochi Studies section at Balochistan University in Quetta in 1997, which teaches and sponsors research on the Balochi language and literature. Broadcasts in Balochi were introduced by Radio Pakistan in 1949. The program was daily, forty five minutes, and was broadcast from Karachi. Starting in 1956 the programs were broadcast from Quetta, the provincial capital. The Balochi Academy was established in Quetta, with financial support from the Federal Government. Its most important literary activities have been publication of books, mainly in Balochi, and the organization of literary meetings. There have also been some attempts at starting primary education in Balochi. As the result of an initiative of the government of Benazir Bhutto, Balochi, Brahui and Pashto were introduced as the medium of instruction in government schools in 1990. However, only two years later, in 1992, education in “mother tongue languages” was

balochi: towards a biography of the language

329

made optional and parents switched back to Urdu (Rahman 1996: 169, see also 1999 and 2002). Private initiatives have also been taken to teach Balochi, especially in the main Baloch residential area of Karachi, Lyari. A number of periodicals have also been published in Balochi for various periods. Some of the Baloch in the diaspora are also concerned with the preservation and promotion of Balochi, publishing magazines and arranging literacy classes, cultural evenings, and other activities. There are now numerous weekly and monthly magazines published in Balochi. But although these initiatives have raised the value of particular dialect forms, mainly Makrani, they have not raised the value of Balochi as a national language or led in any significant way towards standardization. Some more detail from the current literature on the early history of the language and people may be useful here. As stated at the beginning, Balochi is classified as Northwest Iranian and is closely related to (but by no means mutually comprehensible with) Kurdish as well as Persian. For this reason in Iran it was often referred to in the past as a dialect of Persian. But this was more a political statement about the relationship of the non-literate Baloch to the Persianate urban elite than a linguistic statement about the relationship between the two languages. The name “Baloch” appears in sources that originate before the Islamic period. It is associated with people who appear to have moved as pastoral nomads from areas south of the Caspian Sea south and southeastwards towards their current territories in southeastern Iran, southwestern Afghanistan and western Pakistan. Linguists consider the original home of the Baloch to have been somewhere just east or southeast of the central Caspian region, the meeting point of Middle Persian and Parthian (Elfenbein 1989a). The Russian orientalist, Vladimir Minorsky, suggested that the place names on the edge of the central deserts of the Iranian Plateau may be the equivalent of visiting cards left by them on their way—which suggests that they were also involved in agriculture (cf. Frye 1961). In Balochi epic poetry, collected by M. Longworth Dames (1907), the Baloch themselves claim to have come from Syria. They were passing through the Kerman area in the time of Masʿud (ruling from Ghazni in what is now southeastern Afghanistan) in the 11th century, and arrived in the Indus valley finally in the 15th or perhaps even as late as the 16th century. They brought the Baloch identity and language with them and must have “Balochized” the existing population, i.e. assimilated them to a Balochi identity. Many of the current place names of the region, names of agricultural settlements,

330

brian spooner

predate their arrival. The fact that we have no evidence of them as a unitary political community before the middle of the 17th century raises questions about the current dialect variation, apart from the two significant language subcommunities in their midst—the Jadgal in Dashtiari (southeast corner of Iran) and the Brahui (cf. Elfenbein 1989c, Emeneau 1962a and 1962b) who are concentrated mainly south of Kalat. In the recent past the Baloch have routinely distinguished between nomads whom they referred to as baloch (with the implication of par excellence, the real Baloch) and agriculturalists, for whom they used the term shahri (Spooner 1987). Many of the shahri enjoyed a helot type of status under the control of leading tribal families, most of whom may have originated outside the region and outside the Balochi-speaking community, though they are now fully identified as Baloch. This category includes the Jadgal (whose speech appears to be a dialect of Sindhi). There were also serfs, imported from East Africa. Many of the Brahui speakers, however, have been close to the government in Kalat, which had a continuous existence from 1638 to 1954. Perhaps more interesting still, there is evidence to suggest that some tribal communities have shifted from Brahui to Balochi or vice versa more than once in the recent past (Morgenstierne 1932: 8-9, quoted in Barth 1964: 13, wrote that “the tribal system of the Baloches and Brahuis, which in contrast to that of the Pathans favours the assimilation of racially foreign elements into the tribe, has no doubt led to frequent changes of language within many Baloch and Brahui clans.” Cf. Morgenstierne 1948 and Sabir 2003). Since in the modern world ethnic identity is usually understood in ethnolinguistic terms, the emergence of nationalist sensibilities raises the question whether or not Brahui-speakers should be distinguished in some way from Balochi speakers. The question has not arisen for Jadgali speakers in Dashtiari (Iran) because they have historically held low-class helot-type status under the Baloch Sardarzai Khans in Bahu Kalat. But the Brahui-speakers in Sarawan, south of Kalat, now in Pakistan, had no such historical disadvantage. The Government of Pakistan established two separate academies in Quetta for the promotion of Balochi and Brahui languages and cultures. It was perhaps in the government’s interest to see Brahui develop as a distinct identity, which would weaken Baloch solidarity and political identity. Quetta radio became the major producer of programs in Balochi, heard in Iran and Afghanistan. (Radio Zahedan and Radio Kabul had less than

balochi: towards a biography of the language

331

ten hours a week each.) Baloch writers published magazines and books in Balochi, English, and Urdu. Beginning in the 1960s an increasing number of Baloch writers have published on the history and culture of the Baloch. After the establishment of the Khalqi government in Afghanistan in 1978 Balochi was declared one of seven national languages of Afghanistan, along with not only Dari and Pashto but also Uzbeki, Turkmani, Nuristani, Pashai (DPA Revolutionary Council’s Decree Number 4 on May 15, 1978; see Nawid, this volume). Balochi continued with this status through the various changes of government during the Soviet occupation and the civil war that followed, although Dari and Pashto were given preference in practice under Najibullah, from 1986 onwards, and the Baloch were not equipped to take much advantage of the opportunity to promote their ethno-linguistic identity. Beginning in 1996, under the regime of the Taliban, although no official language policy was announced, Pashto became de facto the official language of the government. The next constitution, promulgated by the coalition forces in 2004, like previous constitutions, did not designate any language as official. However, Article 16 states, “From amongst Pashto, Dari, Uzbeki, Turkmani, Balochi, Pachaie, Nuristani, Pamiri and other current languages in the country, Pashto and Dari shall be the official languages of the state. In areas where the majority of the people speak in any one of Uzbeki, Turkmani, Pachaie, Nuristani, Balochi or Pamiri languages, any of the aforementioned languages, in addition to Pashto and Dari, shall be the third official language, the usage of which shall be regulated by law. The state shall design and apply effective programs to foster and develop all languages of Afghanistan. Usage of all current languages in the country shall be permissible in press publications and mass media. Past academic and national administrative terminology and usage in the country shall be preserved.” While Iran’s 1906 Constitution did not specifically acknowledge Balochi, Chapter 1 Article 15 did articulate that local languages were allowed to be used, including use in the media. This article also allowed the instruction of ethnic literature alongside Persian courses. However, despite the previously detailed spurts of production following the Revolution, solely Radio Zahidan’s daily radio broadcasts were sustained (Jahani 1989: 86). The central government in Iran did during the 1960s broadcast Balochi news and music for several hours a day from a transmitter in Zahedan (Elfenbein 1966: 1). It is perhaps

332

brian spooner

notable that Balochi was taught to a small group of Iranian refugees living in Sweden in the late 1980s (Jahani 1989: 90). Information on Balochi usage in Iran in the 1960s is available in Spooner 1964. In Pakistan Baloch nationalism continues to be a political factor at the national level (cf. Hewitt 1996, Khan 2005, Titus 1997). It has been suggested that the idea of Baloch nationalism began with Dost Muhammad Khan’s resistance to Reza Shah in Iran in 1928 (Harrison 1981: 3). But it is doubtful whether the combination of general ethnic awareness, interest in political unity, and potential for strong leadership, which are necessary for a successful nationalist movement, existed in a significant proportion of the Baloch anywhere before the 1960s at the earliest. Since then it has motivated an increasing number of young Baloch in Pakistan, Iran, and the Persian Gulf. In February, 1981, a coalition of Baloch emigré groups was formed in London under the name of World Baloch Organization, the purpose of which is to raise money for the Baloch cause. The future of Balochi is now uncertain because of the increasing rate of social change, especially in Iran and Pakistan. As tribal identities continue to lose significance, the language is likely to give way to Persian and Urdu, unless the movement for a stronger ethnic identity finds a leader. In 1984 I was in a situation in rural Balochistan in which six languages were being spoken in a single discussion: Balochi, Brahui, English, Pashto, Persian, and Urdu. So far as I could tell I was the only participant who thought this significant. Bi- or multilingualism is common in Balochistan and surrounding regions. Probably no one in the group spoke all six languages comfortably. But they were accepted as local languages, and every participant was comfortable in at least several. All participants had different social statuses, not easy to define in every case, but recognizably different. A generation earlier, perhaps less, the differences in social status would have determined the choice of language: everyone in the group would have understood implicitly who was senior and that person would have managed the discussion in the language of his choice. In general that is the way Baloch society worked. By the mid 1980s, however, statuses had already lost some of their edge. People were becoming more socially mobile, and this was being reflected in the way people from different backgrounds did business with each other. The Baloch in Sindh and South Punjab can speak four languages: Balochi, Sindhi, Panjabi and Saraiki. There are a large number of Baloch living in

0

500

RZ

1000 km

S

E

Shiraz

IRAN

DASHTIARI

Ghur

Mazar Sharif

Ri

Saravan

d an Helm

Turbat

Quetta

Ghazni

Kabul

LAS BE LA

PAKISTAN

Kharan

BOLAN PASS

Qandahar

AFGHANISTAN

HAZARAJAT

M A K R A N

Bampur

Bahu Kalat

Qa’enat

Herat

Balkh

Map 1. South-Central and Central Asia where Balochi is spoken

W

N

Isfahan

PE R GU SIA LF N

GR OS

ZA

Approximate area of majority Baloch population

A L BU ER JS H

SEA

r

ve

PA N

CASPIAN

Peshawar

AT SW

balochi: towards a biography of the language 333

334

brian spooner

Karachi who are fluent in Urdu and Sindhi. The number of situations where it is important to speak Balochi is diminishing. References Ahangar, Abbas Ali. (2007). A Description of Verbal System in Sarhaddi Balochi of Granchin, Orientalia Suecana, vol. 56, pp. 5-24. Axenov, Serge. (2000). “Balochi Orthography in Turkmenistan,” in Jahani 2000. ——. (2006). The Balochi language of Turkmenistan: A corpus-based grammatical description, Uppsala, Sweden: Acta Uppsala Universitet. Baloch, B.A. (1985). The beginning of radio broadcasting in Balochi: a brief report, Newsletter of Balochistan Studies, no. 2, Naples. Baranzehi, Adam Nader. (2003). “The Sarawani Dialect of Balochi and Persian Influence on It,” in Jahani and Korn, pp. 75-111. Barker, Muhammad A. & Aqil Khan Mengal. (1969). A course in Balochi, Montreal: McGill University. Barth, Fredrik. (1964). “Ethnic Processes on the Pathan-Baloch boundary,” in IndoIranica, G. Redard (ed.), Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, pp. 13-20. Bashir, Elena. (1991). A Contrastive Analysis of Balochi and Urdu, Washington, D.C. and Peshawar, Pakistan: Academy for Educational Development. ——. (2007). “Some transitional features of Eastern Balochi: An areal and diachronic perspective,” in The Baloch and Others: Linguistic, historical and socio-political perspectives on pluralism in Balochistan, Wiesbaden: Dr. Ludwig Reichart. Collett, Nigel A. (1983). A grammar, phrase book, and vocabulary of Balochi, Abingdon: Burgess & Son. Dames, M. Longworth. (1881). “A Sketch of the Northern Balochi Language, containing a grammar, vocabulary and specimens of the language,” Calcutta: Extra number of the Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal 1/1880. ——. (1891). A Text Book of the Balochi Language, consisting of Miscellaneous Stories, Legends, Poems, and a Balochi-English Vocabulary, Lahore. ——. (1904). The Baloch Race, A Historical and Ethnological Sketch. Asia Society Monographs, vol. IV. ——. (1907). Popular Poetry of the Baloches, London: Published for the Folklore Society by David Nutt. Elfenbein, Josef. (1961). “A Balūčī Text, with Translation and Notes,” Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies, vol. 24, pp. 86-103. ——. (1963). A Vocabulary of Marw Balochi. Naples: Istituto Universitario Orientale. ——. (1966). “The Balochi language. A dialectology with texts,” London: Royal Asiatic Society Monographs, vol. XXVII. ——. (1983). “A Balochi Miscellany of Erotica and Poetry: Codex Oriental Additional 24048 of the British Library,” Supplemento n. 35 agli ANNALI—vol. 43, fasc. 2, Napoli: Istituto Universitario Orientale. ——. (1989a). “Balochistan III: Balochi language and literature,” in Encyclopædia Iranica 3, pp. 633-44 http://www.iranica.com/newsite/articles/unicode/v3f6/v3f6a030 .html. ——. (1989b). Balōčī, in Rüdiger Schmitt (ed.), Compendium Linguarum Iranicarum, Wiesbaden: Reichert, pp. 350-62. ——. (1989c). Brahui, Encyclopaedia Iranica http://iranica.com/articles/brahui. ——. (1990). An Anthology of Classical and Modern Balochi Literature, Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz.

balochi: towards a biography of the language

335

——. (2000). “Unofficial and Official Efforts to Promote Balochi in Roman Script,” in Jahani 2000. Emeneau, M.B. (1962a). Brahui and Dravidian Comparative Grammar, University of California Publications in Linguistics. ——. (1962b). “Bilingualism and Structural Borrowing,” Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, vol. 106, no. 5, pp. 430-42. Farrell, Tim. (1989). “A study of ergativity in Balochi,” London: School of Oriental & African Studies, MA thesis. ——. (1990). Basic Balochi: An introductory course, Naples: Instituto Universitario Orientale. ——. (1995). “Fading ergativity? A study of ergativity in Balochi,” in David C. Bennett, Theodora Bynon & B. George Hewitt (eds.), Subject, Voice, and Ergativity: Selected essays, London: School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London, pp. 218-43. Foxton, William. (1985). “Arabic/Balochi Bilingualism in Oman,” Newsletter of Balochistan Studies, vol. 2, pp. 31-9. Frye, R.N. (1961). “Remarks on Balochi history,” Central Asiatic Journal, vol. 6. Geiger, William. (1891). Etymologie des Baluci, München: Verlag der K. Akademie. Gilbertson, George W. (1923). The Balochi language, A grammar and manual, Hertford: Stephen Austin & Sons. ——. (1925). English-Balochi colloquial dictionary, Hertford: Stephen Austin & Sons. Grierson, G.A. (1921). ‘Balochi’ in the Linguistic Survey of India, X, Calcutta, pp. 327-451. Harrison, Selig. (1981). In Afghanistan’s Shadow, Carnegie Endowment. Hewitt, Vernon. (1996). “Ethnic Construction, Provincial Identity and Nationalism in Pakistan: The Case of Balochistan,” in S.K. Mitra and R.A. Lewis (eds.), Subnational Movements in South Asia, Boulder: Westview Press. Jahanbani, Amanullah, 1336 A.H.S. (1957). ʿAmaliyyat-e Qoshun dar Balochistan, Tehran. ——, 1338 A.H.S. (1959). Sar Gozasht-e Balochistan, Tehran. Jahani, Carina. (1989). “Standardization and orthography in the Balochi language,” Studia Iranica Upsaliensia, Uppsala: Almqvist & Wiksell Internat. ——, (ed.). (2000). Language in Society: Eight sociolinguistic essays on Balochi, I, Uppsala: Acta Universitatis Upsaliensis. ——. (2001). “Balochi,” in Jane Garry, Carl Rubino (eds.), Facts About the World’s Languages: An Encyclopedia of the World’s Major Languages, Past and Present, New York and Dublin, pp. 59-64. —— and Agnes Korn (eds.), (2003). The Baloch and Their Neighbours: Ethnic and Linguistic Contact in Balochistan in Historical and Modern Times, Wiesbaden: Reichert. Khan, Adeel. (2005). Politics of Identity, Ethnic Nationalism and the State of Pakistan, New Delhi: Sage Publications. Korn, Agnes. (2009). “Marking of arguments in Balochi ergative and mixed constructions,” in Simin Karimi, VIda Samiian & Donald Stilo (eds.), Aspects of Iranian Linguistics, Newcastle upon Tyne (UK): Cambridge Scholars Publishing, pp. 249-76. Lodhi, Abdulaziz Y. (2000). “A Note on the Baloch in East Africa,” in Jahani 2000. Morgenstierne, Georg. (1932). “Notes on Balochi Etymology,” Norsk Tidsskrift for Sprogvidenskap, vol. 5, pp. 37-53. ——. (1948). Balochi Miscellanea, Acta Orientalia, vol. 20, pp. 253-92. Moshkalo, Vyacheslav V. (2000). “Language and Culture of the Balochi in Turkmenistan,” in Jahani 2000. Nawata, Tetsuo. (1981). Balochi, Asian and African Grammatical Manuals 17b, Tokyo: Institute for the Study of Languages and Cultures of Asia and Africa.

336

brian spooner

Nicolini, Beatrice. (2008). The 19th Century Slave Trade in the Western Indian Ocean: The Role of the Baloch Mercenaries, in The Baloch and Others, Carina Jahani, Agnes Korn and Paul Titus (eds.), Wiesbaden: Reichert Verlag, pp. 327-44. Rahman, Tariq. (1996). Language and Politics in Pakistan. Karachi: Oxford University Press. Paperback reprinted, 1998, 2000 & 2003. Chapter 9. “The Language Movements of Balochistan.” ——. (1999). Language, Education and Culture. Karachi: Oxford University Press. Reprinted, 2000 & 2003. ——. (2002). Language, Ideology and Power: Language-Learning Among the Muslims of Pakistan and North India, Karachi: Oxford University Press. Rzehak, Lutz. (2003). “Some Thoughts and Material on Balochi in Afghanistan,” in The Baloch and their Neighbours, Carina Jahani and Agnes Korn (eds.), Wiesbaden: Reichert Verlag, pp. 259-76. Sabir, A. Razzak. (2003). “Language contact in Balochistan (with special reference to Balochi and Brahui),” in Joan L.G. Baart and Ghulam Hyder Sindhi (eds.), Pakistani Languages and Society: Problems and Prospects, pp. 121-31. Islamabad and Horsleys Green: National Institute of Pakistan Studies, Quaid-i-Azam University and Summer Institute of Linguistics. Sokolova, V.S. (1953). Beludzskiy jazyk in Ocerki po fonetike iranskix jazykov, pp. 7-77, Moscow. Spooner, Brian. (1967). “Notes on the Baluchī Spoken in Persian Balochistan,” in Iran, vol. 5, pp. 51-71. ——. (1984). “Who are the Baluch? A Preliminary Investigation into the Dynamics of an Ethnic Identity from Qajar Iran,” in Qajar Iran: Political, social and cultural change, 1800–1925, C.E. Bosworth and C. Hillenbrand (eds.), Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, pp. 66-78. Reprinted 1992. ——. (1987). “Insiders and Outsiders in Baluchistan: Western and Indigenous Perspectives on Ecology and Development,” in Lands at Risk in the Third World, LocalLevel Perspectives, Peter Little, Michael Horowitz and A. Endre Nyerges (eds.). IDA Monographs in Development Anthropology. Boulder: Westview Press, pp. 58-68, reprinted in 1992b Insiders and Outsiders in Baluchistan: Western and Indigenous Perspectives on Ecology and Development. In Sociology of Natural Resources in Pakistan and Adjoining Countries, Michael R. Dove and Carol Carpenter (eds.). Lahore, Pakistan: Vanguard Books, pp. 430-44. ——. (1989). “Baluch and Baluchistan, geography, history, and ethnography,” in Encyclopaedia Iranica, 3: 598-32. Titus, Paul. (1997). Marginality and Modernity: Ethnicity and Change in Post-Colonial Balochistan, Karachi: Oxford University Press. Websites http://www.ethnologue.com/show_language.asp?code=bcc http://titus.fkidg1.uni-frankfurt.de/personal/agnes/lv/balochi-sources.pdf compiled by Agnes Korn July 2008 [email protected]

SECTION IV

PEDAGOGICAL RESOURCES AND CONCLUSION

CHAPTER ELEVEN

RESOURCES FOR THE STUDY OF LANGUAGE POLICIES AND LANGUAGES OF AFGHANISTAN AND ITS NEIGHBORS Cynthia Groff 11.1. Introduction This chapter surveys print and electronic resources available in English for those who wish to teach and study the language policies and languages of Afghanistan and its neighboring countries. Resources include background and general information on the region and languages of the region. Language policies of the region and of specific countries are examined in various sources. Language learning resources are highlighted through reference to the various websites where print and electronic resources are listed and can often be downloaded. Also discussed are methods by which scholars can locate resources and make them more accessible. The bibliography allows scholars to locate the sources by area of interest. The diversity of the peoples in and around Afghanistan is reflected in the diversity of languages found there. The languages of this region have received relatively little attention in western academia, particularly compared with the attention given to European languages. This is not to say, however, that language policy and language learning resources for the region do not exist. During these current times of transition, interest in language policies and languages of the region has increased. Independence movements, the breakup of the former Soviet Union, and the spotlight placed on the region since 9/11 contribute to this interest. Still, these languages are taught and studied at relatively few institutions with limited options for pedagogic materials and limited resources for revision of pedagogical methods and materials. This chapter explores resources available in English for the study and teaching of, first, the language policies and, second, the languages of the region in and around Afghanistan. Not claiming to be a complete review, the chapter concludes with some thoughts on how to expand access to such resources including description of the methods used in compiling this review and recommendations for further searches.

340

cynthia groff

A list of print and electronic resources that provided a foundation for this review was collected by Maggie Ronkin for the December 2003 Workshop on Languages in and around Afghanistan organized by the South Asia Language Resource Center. Without her extensive work compiling the resource pages, this review would not be possible. The languages covered in and around Afghanistan include but are not be limited to Balochi, Dari, Kazakh, Kyrgyz, Pashto, Persian, Saraiki, Sindhi, Tatar, Turkik, Tajik, Urdu, Uyghur, and Uzbek. Background and general resources described in the first section provide insight into the region and language groups of the region. Language policy resources are described in the next section by region or country as they appear in the bibliography. Languages learning resources are highlighted through reference to the various websites where electronic resources have been made available and where lists of print resources have been compiled. 11.2. Background and General Resources Numerous sources of information on the region and languages of Central and Northwest Asia could be cited. The various university programs and centers focusing on this region may serve as a starting point. These include the Program on Central Asia and the Caucasus at Harvard University (2008), the Ellison Center for Russian, East European and Central Asian Studies Center at the University of Washington (REECAS, 1998), and the Center for Russia, East Europe and Central Asia at University of Wisconsin-Madison (CREECA, 2010). In addition, the Inner Asian and Uralic National Resource Center (IAUNRC, 2010) provides links to numerous general resources on countries and regions of Central Asia. Central Eurasian Studies World Wide (CESWW, 2008) provides resources for the study of Central Eurasia including a directory of experts and relevant dissertations, as well as study programs and syllabi. The Digital South Asia Library (2010) provides access to further resources on the region, as do the language centers listed under language learning resources below. Another source of information on countries of the region comes from the Library of Congress’s (2005) Federal Research Division Country Studies, which provides access to the online version of books and allows for search by topic and by any combination of countries. Resources helpful in finding general information on the languages of

resources for the study of language policies

341

the region can be obtained from atlases or glossaries of language and culture such as Payne (1987), Fussman (1972), Grierson (1919, 1906) Ibbetson, and Maclagan Rose (1919). Among general language resources of the region are Csató, Isaaksson and Jahani (2005), focusing on the similarities and differences between languages of the region, Kreyenbroek and Marzolph (2010) on literature of minority languages in Iran, and the Newsletter of Baluchistan Studies edited by Rossi and Tosi (2003). A bibliography of resources on the languages and cultures of Nuristan, a region in and around eastern Afghanistan is provided online by Richard Strand (2010a). The site also provides information about the region and extensive information on the lexicons, sound systems, and grammars of languages of the Hindu-Kush (Strand, 2008b). Other resources on Nuristani (and Dardic) languages were listed in a post to Linguist List (Brush, 1998). Such resources concerning the languages and region may serve as language learning resources and provide background for the study of language policies of the region. 11.3. Language Policy Resources Resources about language policies in the region of Afghanistan include works on language policy in Central Asia (Fierman, 1997; Henze, 1977; Lo Bianco, 2002; Schlyter, 2001), as well as scholarship focusing on implementation issues (Fierman, 1995), reform movements (Carlson, 1994), and language policy changes over time (Schlyter, 2001, 2003). The Proceedings of the Foundation for Endangered Language held in Tajikistan (Elnazarov, Ostler, 2009) contain contributions on several of the region’s languages, past and present. Language policies of the People’s Republic of China also impact minority languages in the region of Central Asia (Connor, 1984; Zhou, 2003). Relevant also are South Asian perspectives on language planning (Mansoor, Meraj, Tahir 2004). Policies in Ex-Soviet states are considered (Landau, KellnerHeinkele, 2001) as well as the former language policy situation in the Soviet Union (Connor, 1984; Kirkwood, 1989; Kreindler, 1982; Lewis, 1972), including an account of Russian policy towards Turkic languages (Bruchis, 1984; Wheeler, 1977b) and policies towards Muslim peoples in the Soviet Union (Kreindler, 1995; Wheeler, 1977a.). Additional resources on language policies in the former Soviet Union can

342

cynthia groff

be found on Harold Schiffman’s (2002) website, as well as Dickens (1988). On language policies of specific countries in the region, I highlight a few resources, noting that languages, of course, are not confined by state boundaries as in the situation of the Baloch (Adamik, 1977; Jahani, 1989; Jahani, 2000; Jahani and Korn, 2003; Axenov, 2006; Jahani, Korn and Titus, 2008; see also a resource list by Korn, 2008). Some also compare the policies of countries, as in Perry (1999) on Iran and Tajikistan. Sources relevant to language policy in Afghanistan include Miran (1974, 1977a, 1977b), Dupree (1978), Pstrusińska (1989), Naby (1980), Bhattacharya (1984), Rubin (1992), Edwards (2002), and Crews and Tarzi (2008). Among resources on Iran are those dealing with language reform (Perry, 1985) communication and language status (Beeman, 1982, 1986). Iranian nationality in relation to the Persian language (Meskoob, 1992), and Persian orthography (Hashabeiky, 2005). Articles on the language policies of Kazakhstan (Ajbasova, Imazhanova, Isaxan Kabdushev, 1997; Eschment, 1998) also include those dealing with language revival (Dave, 1996a, 1996b, 1996c), language and identity (Fierman, 1998), and language attitudes (Rivers, 2002). The political nature of language issues in Kyrgystan are examined by Huskey (1995) and Pannier (1996). Language policy in Pakistan has been analyzed and reported extensively by Tariq Rahman (1996c, 1998, 1999, 2002). Historical articles describe British language policies (1996b), and language acquisition policies for Urdu teaching (2000b) and textbook change (2001f ), as well as the decline of Persian in this context (1999). Current medium of instruction issues are also considered (1997b) including English teaching (2001a), Urdu teaching (2002), the Urdu-English debate (1977), and power dynamics in language learning (2001b). Rahman describes the role of Urdu in India (1999), as well as ethnicity and language (1997a) and language of employment (2000a) in Pakistan. Rahman also focuses on specific minority languages within Pakistan, including the Siriaki language movement (1995a; see also Shackle, 1977), Sindhi language movement (1995c), Pashto language movement and language learning (1995b; 2001d), Balochi/Brahvi language movement and language learning (1996a; 2001c), as well as Punjabi language movement and language learning (1996d, 2001e). Mansoor (2005) looks at language planning in the higher education context in Pakistan.

resources for the study of language policies

343

The situation in Turkmenistan, along with Azerbaijan, is discussed by Pool (1976). Language planning as it relates to national identity in Tajikstan is discussed by Beeman (1999); Perry (1996, 1997, 1999) addresses Tajik Persian, and Clifton (1993) describes the situation of minority languages in Tajiskstan. Corpus planning decisions regarding Turkic alphabets are discussed in three articles (Devlet, 1992; Ercilasun, 1995; Simsir, 1995), although these and other non-English articles are unfortunately outside of the scope of this review. Resources concerning language policy in Uzbekistan include Allworth (1954), Fierman (1991), Lenker (1991), (Friedman (1992), Hozhiev (1996), Schlyter, (1997, 1998), and Smith, Law, Wilson, Bohr Allworth (1998). William Fierman (1995a, 1995b) specifically focuses on difficulties in language policy implementation in Uzbekistan. Additional language policy resources for Uzbek are presented by Khalilova (1993) along with language learning resources. 11.4. Language Learning Resources Links to language learning resources have been compiled on various websites. While all texts being used for instruction of each of the Central Asian languages are not listed here, lists of resources and of institutions where these languages are being taught will link teachers and learners to this information. The most extensive collection of language learning resources can be found through the UCLA Language Materials Project (2004), along with language profiles. Resources can be searched by language, by material type and by student level. Table 1 lists the Central Asian languages for which resources are referenced at this site, including the number of authentic materials and teaching materials currently listed. I have included in italics the number of resources that were available for these languages in 2005 for comparison. The total number of materials listed for these Central Asian languages increased by 50% within the past five years. In addition, resource information collected for over thirty years in the Center for Applied Linguistics (CAL) database can be searched from the UCLA site, complementary to the Language Materials Project. The UCLA site also includes a link to the database of the Center for Advanced Research on Language Acquisition (CARLA, 2009a)

344

cynthia groff Table 1. Resources listed for selected languages through the UCLA Language Materials Project

Language

Balochi Dari Kazakh Kurdish Kyrgyz Pashto Persian Punjabi Tajik Tatar Turkmen Uighur Urdu Uzbek

Authentic Teaching Materials Materials (As of Summer 2010) 1 18 60 19 18 23 116 15 18 14 11 8 34 25

20 30 41 42 23 64 213 65 30 23 32 33 88 54

Authentic Teaching Materials Materials (As of Spring 2005) 1 8 56 7 16 10 15 7 13 9 9 4 10 17

13 19 31 33 19 56 179 32 13 17 28 20 66 48

with a search-able database of institutions that provide instruction in specific less commonly taught languages in the United States. The CARLA site lists instructional materials, links, and locations of instruction for various languages, including Urdu. For scholars of less commonly taught languages there is a listserv as well as an “ask the experts” section including email addresses of experts willing to answer questions regarding specific languages (CARLA 2009b). Languages of interest include Balochi, Dari, Druze, Kazakh, Kurdish, Pashto, Persian, Poguli, Uighur, Urdu, and Uzbek. The National Council of Less Commonly Taught Languages (NCOLCTL, 2010) is an additional resource for language teachers. The South Asia Language Resource Center (SALRC, n.d.), sponsor of the workshop for which these materials were originally compiled, is one of fifteen Title VI Language Resource Centers at universities designated by the US Department of Education. These centers were designed to improve the teaching and learning of foreign languages. For example, the SALRC supports a project on Resources for Learning Pashto (n.d.) which includes online access to classical, modern and folk literature in Pashto as well as links related to Pashto language instruction.

resources for the study of language policies

345

The Center for Languages of the Central Asian Region (CeLCAR, 2009) has developed textbooks for Introductory Pashto, Tajiki, Uzbek, and Uyghur, some of which have been recently published (Azimova, 2010; Nasrullo, 2009). CeLCAR continues to develop materials for teaching these languages as well as Kazakh, Kyrgyz and Mongolian, including audio and video materials, multimedia dictionaries, and script-writing tutorials for Dariand Pashto script. The website also provides links for other language resources and general resources pertaining to Afghanistan and the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region, PRC. The National Middle Eastern Language Resource Center (NMELRC, 2005) provides links to online Persian language resources. Language-learning materials for Balochi, Farsi, Kazakh, Tajiki, Urdu, and Uzbek are available for sale by Multilingual Books (2009). A website focusing on Balochi language (n.d.) provides a list of language learning resources for Balochi. On-line Pashto conversation recordings can be found at an archived Indiana University site (2004). The University of Minnesota Learning Resource Center (2002) also hosts instructional recordings in Pashto and Punjabi, as well as recordings of Urdu poetry. The lexicons, sound systems, and grammars of languages of the Hindu-Kush provided by Strand (2004b) may also serve as a language learning resource. Unfortunately the OELA’s (2004) page on Languages and Cultures of Afghanistan, with Pashto and Dari language materials and language and culture resources, is no longer available and has been blocked in the online archive. Organizations such as the American Association of Teachers of Turkic (AATT, 2004) also provide information on language teaching resources and Internet resources. For example the AATT site provides a list of teaching resources, links to online Turkic learning and teaching resources, including a link to the University of Arizona Critical Language Series (2010) with CD-ROM course ware for beginning Kazakh and Karmanji Kurdish. Similarly the American Association of the Teachers of Persian (AATP, n.d.) provides useful links, including lists of major Persian programs. The Online Persian Language Learning Resource (n.d.) lists books and links to lessons, online and downloadable dictionaries, media links, games, and information on romanization of Persian script.

346

cynthia groff 11.5. Researching Resources

This collection of language policy and language learning resources not only provides a sampling of available resources but also exemplifies various means for accessing more such resources as they become available. How do we gather together the resources that are available? As a starting point, the chapters published in this volume, along with their authors and reference lists, certainly provide an important resource on language policies in Central Asia. Library and Internet searches also point to available resources. Perhaps most important is the information available through colleagues studying and teaching the language policies and languages of the region. The importance of library and journal searches need hardly be mentioned. Besides university libraries, the Library of Congress Online Catalog (2004) aids in searching for available resources. However, the difficulty of finding all available resources through library catalogs and search engines is exemplified by the fact that the University of Pennsylvania’s library catalog contains no entries for the subject heading “language policy Afghanistan,” only three book under the heading “language policy Asia,” one for a book under “language policy Iran,” and one under “language planning Central Asia.” Many of the resources listed in this review are accessible through the Internet, providing an important resource for further searches. Links from relevant sites often lead to a chain of other related sites. Most of the resources here were collected from websites and through connection with experts in the field. Fortunately individual scholars need not be alone in this search. The bibliographies collected by colleagues serve as an important resource. For this collection of resources, for example, Birgit Schlyter’s (2001) bibliography for “Language Policies in PresentDay Central Asia” proved useful. The resources posted by colleagues on their websites as well as the CVs of experts in the field provide valuable leads. Suggestions for resources were also provided through personal communication and responses to listserv requests. The list of experts provided by CARLA (2004b) offers access to colleagues in specific fields. A similar resource is available from the Asia Society Experts Directory (2010). Additional information on many scholars of history and culture of Central Asia is available in a publication of the Harvard Central Asia Forum (1995). Most scholars reading this review will be experts in some area and will have accessed resources not mentioned here. Thus, this article

resources for the study of language policies

347

and this volume are only a beginning. The Internet in particular provides scholars access to one another as never before, starting with opportunities to join list-serves, offer our names on the various expert lists, post relevant bibliographies online, or contribute to the UCLA’s Language Materials Project. Continued collaboration will help to fill the gaps. For example, we may consider forming a Language Policy Materials Project where language policy materials, particularly from “less commonly studied regions,” may be compiled similar to the way language-learning resources are compiled through UCLA’s Language Materials Project. Hopefully, we will continue to be a resource for one another in our search for resources relevant to Central Asian language policies and language learning. References A. Background and General Resources Asia Society (2010). Asia Society Experts Directory. Retrieved August 17, 2010, from http://asiasociety.org/media/experts/asia-society-experts-directory. Brush, Melia. (1998, May 10). Nuristani references. Message posted to Linguist List, archived at http://www.linguistlist.org/issues/9/9-688.html#1. CESWW (2008). Central Eurasian Studies World Wide. Retrieved August 17, 2010, from http://cesww.fas.harvard.edu/. CREECA (2010). University of Wisconsin-Madison: Center for Russia, East Europe and Central Asia. Retrieved August 17, 2010, from http://www.wisc.edu/creeca/. Csató, Ágnes Éva, Isaaksson, Bo and Jahani, Carina (eds.). (2005). Linguistic Convergence and Areal Diffusion: Case Studies from Iranian, Semitic and Turkic, London and New York: Routledge Curzon. Digital South Asia Library (2010). Retrieved August 17, 2010, from http://dsal .uchicago.edu/. Fussman, Gerard. (1972). Atlas Linguistique des Parlers Dardes et Kafirs. Paris: École Francaise d’Extrême Orient. Grierson, George Abraham. (1906). The Pisaca Languages of North-Western India. London: The Royal Asiatic Society. ——, (ed.) (1919). Linguistic Survey of India, vol. VIII, part II “Specimens of the Dardic or Pisacha Language.” Calcutta: Superintendant Government Printing. Harvard Central Asia Forum (1995). Guide to Scholars of the History and Culture of Central Asia. Research Publications of the Harvard Central Asia Forum, vol. 1. Harvard University. Ibbetson, Denzil, Edward Maclagan, and H.A. Rose. (1919). A Glossary of the Tribes and Castes of the Punjab and North-West Frontier Province, volume I. Lahore: Superintendant of Government Printing. IAUNRC (2010). Inner Asian and Uralic National Resource Center. Retrieved August 17, 2010, from http://www.indiana.edu/~iaunrc. Kreyenbroek, Philip G., Marzolph, Ulrich. (2010). Oral Literature of Iranian Languages: Kurdish, Pashto, Balochi, Ossetic; Persian and Tajik: Companion Volume II (A History of Persian Literature A, vol. 18). London: I.B. Tauris.

348

cynthia groff

Library of Congress. (2005). Federal Research Division Country Studies. Retrieved January 29, 2005, from http://lcweb2.loc.gov/frd/cs/. Library of Congress Online Catalog. (2010). Retrieved August 17, 2010, from http:// catalog.loc.gov. Payne, J.R. (1987). Iranian Languages, New York: Oxford University Press. Program on Central Asia and the Caucasus at Harvard University. (2008). Retrieved August 17, 2010, from http://centasia.fas.harvard.edu/index.html. REECAS (2010). University of Washington: Ellison Center for Russian, East European and Central Asian Studies. Retrieved August 17, 2010, from http://jsis.washington .edu/ellison/. Rossi, A.V., and Tosi, M. (eds.). (2003). Newsletter of Baluchistan Studies. University of Naples. Strand, Richard. (2010a). A Bibliography of the Languages and Cultures of Nuristân and Environs. Retrieved January 29, 2005 from http://users.sedona.net/~strand /bibliography.html. ——. (2008b). Nuristan: Hidden land of the Hindu-Kush. Retrieved August 17, 2010 from http://users.sedona.net/~strand/. B. Language Policy Resources by Region and Country Regional Adamik, Jozef. (1977). The Origins and Dialect Differentiation of Baloci: Chronological Reconstruction of Developments in the nominal morphology. Doctoral dissertation, Harvard University. Axenov, Serge. (2006). Balochi Language of Turkmenistan: A Corpus-Based Grammatical Description. Doctoral dissertation, Uppsala University. Coronet Books. Bruchis, Michael. (1984). “The Effect of the USSR’s Language Policy on the National Languages of Its Turkic Population,” in Yaacov Roi (ed.), The USSR and the Muslim World: Issues in Domestic and Foreign Policy. London: George Allen Unwin. Carlson, Charles F. (1994). “Language Reform Movements in Central Asia,” in Ingeborg Baldauf and Michael Friederich (eds.), Bamberger Zentralasien Studien: Konferenzakten ESCAS IV, Bamberg 8.-12 Oktober1991 (pp. 135-51). Berlin: Klaus Schwarz Verlag. Connor, Walker. (1984). The national question in Marxist-Leninist theory and strategy. Princeton: Princeton Univ. Press. Dickens, Mark. (1988). Soviet Language Policy in Central Asia. Retrieved September 7, 2010 from http://www.oxuscom.com/lang-policy.htm. Elnazarov, Hakim and Ostler, Nicholas (eds.). (2009). Endangered Languages and History: Proceedings of the Conference of the Foundation for Endangered Languages, FEL xiii, 24-26 September 2009, Khorog, Tajikistan. Fierman, W. (1997, August). Language, Identity and Conflict in Central Asia and the Southern Caucasus. Perspectives on Central Asia, 2(5), 1-4. ——, (ed.). (1995). “Implementing Language Laws: Perestroika and its Legacy in Five Republics,” Nationalities Papers, vol. 23, no. 3, pp. 505-659. Henze, Paul B. (1977). “Politics and alphabets in Inner Asia,” in Fishman, J.A. (ed.). Advances in the creation and revision of writing systems (Contributions to the Sociology of Language, 8). The Hague: Mouton, pp. 371-420. Jahani, Carina (ed.). (1989). Standardization and orthography in the Balochi language. Uppsala, Sweden: Almqvist Wiksell. ——, (ed.). (2000). Language in Society—Eight Sociolinguistic Essays on Balochi, Acta Universitatis Upsaliensis, Uppsala. —— and Agnes Korn, (eds.). (2003). The Baloch and Their Neighbors: Ethnic and Linguistic Contact in Balochistan in Historical and Modern Times. Wiesbaden: Reichert Verlag.

resources for the study of language policies

349

——, Agnes Korn, and Paul Titus (eds.). (2008). The Baloch and Others: Linguistic, Historical and Socio-Political Perspectives on Pluralism in Balochistan. Wiesbaden: Reichert Verlag. Kirkwood, Michael (ed.). (1989). Language Planning in the Soviet Union. London: Macmillan Press Ltd. Korn, Agnes. (2008). Sources for Balochi. Retrieved September 7, 2010 from http:// titus.fkidg1.uni-frankfurt.de/personal/agnes/lv/balochi-sources.pdf. Kreindler, Isabelle. (1982). “Lenin, Russian, and Soviet Language Policy,” International Journal of the Sociology of Language, vol. 33, pp. 129-35. ——. (1995). “Soviet Muslims: Gains and Losses as a Result of Soviet Language Planning,” in Yaacov Roi (ed.), Muslim Euroasia: Conflicting Legacies, pp. 187-203. London: Frank Cass. Landau, Jacob M. and Barbara Kellner-Heinkele. (2001). Politics of Language Use in the Ex-Soviet Muslim States: Azarbayjan, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Turkmenistan, and Tajikstan. Ann Arbor, MI: University of Michigan Press. Lewis, E. Glyn. (1972). Multilingualism in the Soviet Union: Aspects of Language Policy and its Implementation. Mouton: The Hague. Lo Bianco, Joseph. (2002). Voices from Phnom Penh: Development and Language Local Influences and Global Effects. Melbourne, VIC: Language Australia. Mansoor, Sabiha; Shaheen Meraj, and Aliya Tahir. (1992). Language policy, planning practice: A South Asian perspective. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Multilingual Books (2009). Accessed September 2, 2010 from http://multilingual books.com/eurotalk.html. Schiffman, Harold. (2002). Language policy in the former Soviet Union. Retrieved August 17, 2010, from http://ccat.sas.upenn.edu/~haroldfs/540/handouts/ussr/soviet .html. Schlyter, Birgit N. (2000). “Korean Business and Culture in Former Soviet Central Asia,” Proceedings from the ESCAS VII Conference, Vienna, September 25-30, 2000. ——. (2001). “Language Policies in Present-Day Central Asia,” International Journal of Multicultural Societies, vol. 3, no. 2, pp. 135-45. ——. (2003). “Sociolinguistic Changes in Transformed Central Asian Societies,” Languages in a Globalising World (pp. 157-87). New York: Cambridge University Press. (Previously published in French translation under the title of “L’évolution sociolinguistique dans les sociétés en mutation de l’Asie centrale,” in Jaques Maurais Michael A. Morris (eds). Géostratégies des langues (Terminogramme 99-100), (pp. 183-212). Québec: Les Publications du Québec 2001. ——. (2004). “Changing Language Loyalties in Central Asia,” in Tej K. Bhatia, William C. Ritchie (eds.), Handbook of Bilingualism. New York: Blackwell Publishers. Wheeler, Geoffrey. (1977a, January). “Islam and the Soviet Union,” Middle Eastern Studies, vol. 13, no. 1, pp. 40-9. ——. (1977b, May). “The Turkic Languages of Soviet Muslim Asia: Russian Linguistic Policy,” Middle Eastern Studies, vol. 13, no. 2, pp. 208-17. Zhou, Minglang (2003). Multilingualism in China: The politics of Writing Reforms for Minority Languages, 1949–2002. Berlin and New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Afghanistan Bhattacharya, Sauri P. (1984). “Soviet Nationality Policy in Afghanistan,” Asian Affairs, vol. 15, no. 2, pp. 125-37. Crews, Robert D., and Amin Tarzi (eds.). (2008). The Taliban and the Crisis of Afghanistan. Hardcover ed. Boston: Harvard Univ. Pr., 2008. Dupree, Louis. (1978). “Language and Politics in Afghanistan: An Essay in Sociolinguistics through Time,” in Language and Civilization Change in South Asia, Clarence Maloney (ed.), Leiden: E.J. Brill.

350

cynthia groff

Edwards, David B. (2002). Before Taliban: Genealogies of the Afghan Jihad. Berkeley: University of California Press. Miran, M. Alam. (1974). Some Linguistic Difficulties facing DariSpeakers Learning Pashto. New York: Afghanistan Council of the Asia Society. ——. (1977). The Functions of National Languages in Afghanistan. New York: Afghanistan Council, Asia Society. ——. (1977). “Sociolinguistic Factors in Afghanistan,” Afghanistan Journal, vol. 4, no. 3, pp. 122-7. Naby, Eden. (1980). “The Ethnic Factor in Soviet-Afghan Relations,” Asian Survey, vol. 20, no. 3, pp. 237-56. Pstrusińska, Jadwiga. (1992). “On the Sociolinguistic Epilogue of the War in Afghanistan (1989),” In Contacts Between Cultures: Eastern Asia: Literature and Humanities, Bernard Hung-Kay Luk (ed.), pp. 359-63. Lewinston: E. Mellen Press. Rubin, Barnett R. (1992). “Political Elites in Afghanistan: Rentier State Building, Rentier State Wrecking,” International Journal of Middle East Studies, vol. 24, no. 1 (1992), pp. 77-99. Iran Beeman, W. (1982). Culture, Performance and Communication in Iran. Tokyo: Institute for the Study of Languages and Cultures of Asia and Africa. (ILCAA). ——. (1986). Language Status and Power in Iran. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press. Hashabeiky, Forogh. (2005). Persian Orthography: Modification or Changeover? Doctoral dissertation. Stockholm, Sweden: Uppsala University. Meskoob, Shahrokh. (1992). Iranian nationality and the Persian language. Washington, D.C.: Mage Publishers. Perry, John R. (1985). “Language Reform in Turkey and Iran,” International Journal of Middle Eastern Studies, vol. 17, pp. 295-311. ——. (1999). “Comparative Perspectives on Language Planning in Iran and Tajikistan,” in Yasir Suleiman (ed.). Language and Society in the Middle East and North Africa: Studies in Variation and Identity, pp. 154-74. London: Curzon. Kazakhstan Ajbasova, M.K., R.K. Imazhanova, G.T. Isaxan and B.Z. Kabdushev (eds.). (1997). “Jazykovaja politika v Kazaxstane (1921-1990 gody),” Cbornik dokumentov, Almaty: Qazaq universiteti. Dave, Bhavna. (1996a). Politics of Language Revival: National Identity and State Building in Kazakhstan. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, Syracuse University. ——. (1996b, November). “Kazaks Struggle to Revive Their Language of Folklore,” Transition, vol. 29, pp. 23-5. ——. (1996c). “National Revival in Kazakhstan: Language Shift and Identity Change,” Post-Soviet Affairs, vol. 12, no. 1, pp. 51-72. Eschment, Beate. (1998). “Hat Kasazchstan ein Russisches Problem?: Revision eines Katastrophenbildes,” Bundesinstitut für ostwissenschaftliche und internationale Studien. Sonderveröffentlichung, February 1998. Fierman, William. (1998). “Language and Identity in Kazakhstan: Formulation in Policy Documents 1987–1997,” Communist and Post-Communist Studies 31(2), pp. 171-86. Rivers, William. (2002). “Attitudes towards Incipient Mankurtism among Kazakhstani College Students,” Language Policy, vol. 1, no. 2.

resources for the study of language policies

351

Kyrgystan Huskey, E. (1995).“The Politics of Language in Kyrgyzstan,” In Fierman, W. (ed.), Implementing Language Laws: Perestroika and its Legacy in Five Republics (Special Topic Issue). Nationalities Papers, vol. 23, no. 3, pp. 549-72. Pannier, Bruce. (1996). “A Linguistic Dilemma in Kyrgyzstan,” Transition, vol. 29 (Nov.), pp. 28-9. Pakistan and North India Mansoor, Sabiha. (2005). Language Planning in Higher Education: A Case Study of Pakistan. New York: Oxford University Press. Rahman, Tariq. (1977). “The Urdu-English Controversy in Pakistan,” Modern Asian Studies, vol. 31, no. 1, pp. 177-207. ——. (1995a). “The Siraiki Language Movement in Pakistan,” Language Planning and Language Problems, vol. 19, no. 1. ——. (1995b). “The Pashto Language Movement in Pakistan,” Contemporary South Asia [UK], vol. 4, no. 2, pp. 151-70. ——. (1995c). “Language and Politics in a Pakistan Province: The Sindhi Language Movement,” Asian Survey, vol. 35, no. 11, pp. 1005-16. ——. (1996b). “British Language Policies and Imperialism in India,” Language Problems and Language Planning, vol. 20, no. 2, pp. 91-115. ——. (1996a). “The Balochi/Brahvi Language Movements in Pakistan,” Journal of South Asian and Middle Eastern Studies, vol. 19, no. 3, pp. 71-88. ——. (1996d). “The Punjabi Language Movement in Pakistan,” International Journal of the Sociology of Language, p. 122. ——. (1996c). Language and Politics in Pakistan. Karachi, PK: Oxford University Press, Paperback reprint, 1998 and 2000. ——. (1997b). “The Medium of Instruction Controversy in Pakistan” [Canada and UK], Journal of Multilingual and Multicultural Development, vol. 18, no. 2, pp. 145-54. ——. (1997a). “Language and Ethnicity in Pakistan,” Asian Survey, vol. 37, no. 9, pp. 833-9. ——. (1998). “Linguistics in Pakistan: A Country Report,” In Rajindra Singh (ed.), The Yearbook of South Asian Languages and Linguistics (pp. 184-96). Delhi: Sage Publications. ——. (1999). “The Politics of Urdu in India,” Journal of South Asian and Middle Eastern Studies, vol. 22, no. 2, pp. 38-60. ——. (1999). “The Decline of Persian in British India,” South Asia [Australia], vol. 22, no. 1, pp. 63-77. ——. (2000b). “The Teaching of Urdu in British India,” The Annual of Urdu Studies, vol. 15, no. 1), pp. 31-56. ——. (1999). Language, Education and Culture. Karachi, PK: Oxford University Press. Paperback reprint, 2000. ——. (2000a). “The Language of Employment: The Case of Pakistan,” Journal of South Asian and Middle Eastern Studies, vol. 24, no. 4, pp. 62-87. ——. (2001c). “The Learning of Balochi and Brahvi in Pakistan,” Journal of South Asian and Middle Eastern Studies, vol. 24, no. 4, pp. 45-59. ——. (2001f ). “The Project of Respectability: Changes in Language Textbooks in British India,” South Asia [Australia], vol. 24, no. 2, pp. 29-51. ——. (2001b). “Language Learning and Power: A Theoretical Approach,” International Journal of the Sociology of Language, 152, 1-22. ——. (2001d). “The Learning of Pashto in North India and Pakistan: An Historical Account,” Journal of Asian History, vol. 35, no. 2, pp. 158-87. ——. (2001a). “English-Teaching Institutions in Pakistan,” Journal of Multilingual and Multicultural Development, vol. 22, no. 3, pp. 242-61.

352

cynthia groff

——. (2001e). “The Learning of Punjabi by Punjabi Muslims: A Historical Account,” International Journal of Punjab Studies, vol. 8, no. 2, pp. 187-224. ——. (2002). “The Politics of the Teaching of Urdu’ in Pakistan,” Annual of Urdu Studies, vol. 17. ——. (2002). Language, Ideology and Power: Language-Learning Among the Muslims of Pakistan and North India. Karachi, PK: Oxford University Press. Shackle, C. (1979). “Saraiki: A Language Movement in Pakstan,” Modern Asian Studies, vol. 11, no. 3, pp. 379-403. Tajikistan and Turkmenistan Beeman, W. (1999). “The Struggle for Identity in Post-Soviet Tajikistan,” MERIA (Middle East Research 3(4). Article 7, pp. 369-93. Clifton, John. (1993). “Situation of Less-Widely Spoken Languages in Tajikistan,” Paper presented at the Workshop on the Languages of Afghanistan, South Asia Language Resource Center, Philadelphia, PA. Devlet, Nadir (Ed.). (1992). “Milletlerarasi Çagdash Türk Alfabeleri Sempozyumu [International Symposium on Modern Turkic Alphabets],” Istanbul: Marmara Üniversitesi Yayinlari no. 509. Türkiyat Arashtirmalari Yayinlari no. 1. Ercilasun, Ahmet B. (1995). “Lâtin Alfabesi Konusunda Gelishmeler,” Türk Dili, vol. 523, no. 1), pp. 738-79. Perry, John R. (1996) “From Persian to Tajik to Persian: Culture, politics and law reshape a Central Asian language,” in Howard I. Aronson (ed.), NSL.8. Linguistic Studies in the Non-Slavic Languages of the Commonwealth of Independent States and the Baltic Republics, pp. 279-305. University of Chicago. ——. (1997). “Script and Scripture: The Three Alphabets of Tajik Persian, 1927–1997,” Journal of Central Asian Studies, vol. 2, no. 1, pp. 2-18. ——. (1999). “Comparative Perspectives on Language Planning in Iran and Tajikistan,” In Yasir Suleiman (ed.). Language and Society in the Middle East and North Africa: Studies in Variation and Identity, pp. 154-74. London: Curzon. Pool, Jonathan. (1976, May). “Some Observations on Language Planning in Azerbaijan and Turkmenistan,” Language Planning Newsletter, vol. 2, no. 2. Honolulu: East-West Cultural Learning Institute. Online version: http://scholarspace .manoa.hawaii.edu/bitstream/10125/17538/1/LanguagePlanningNewsletter_1976 _v2_n2[pdfa].pdf. Simsir, Bilâl N. 1995. “Türkmenistan’da Lâtin Alfabesine Geçiş Hazirliklari,” Türk Dili, vol. 518, pp. 115-38. Uzbekistan Allworth, Edward. 1964. Uzbek literary politics. The Hague: Mouton. Friedman, Thomas L. 1992. “Uzbek says yes to democracy, of course,” The New York Times, Feb. 17, 1992, A7. Fierman, William. (1991). “Language Planning and National Development: The Uzbek Experience,” (Contributions to the Sociology of Language, vol. 60). Berlin and New York: Mouton. ——. (1995a). “Independence and the Declining Priority of Language Law Implementation in Uzbekistan,” In Yaacov Roi (ed.), Muslim Eurasia: Conflicting Legacies (pp. 205-30). London: Frank Cass. ——. (1995b). “Problems of Language Law Implementation in Uzbekistan,” In William Fierman (ed.), Nationalities Papers, vol. 23, no. 3: Implementing Language Laws: Perestroika and its Legacy in Five Republics, pp. 573-95. Hozhiev, A. (1996). “Termin tanlash mezonlari [Criteria For the Choice of Terms],” Tashkent: Uzbekiston Respublikasi Fanlar Akademijasining “Fan” Nariëti 1996. Khalilova, Sabohat. (2003). “Language Policy in Uzbekistan and Uzbek Language Teaching Materials,” paper presented at the Workshop on the Languages in and round Afghanistan, South Asia Language Resource Center, Philadelphia, PA.

resources for the study of language policies

353

Lenker, Michael. (1991). “The Politics of Language Policy: A Case Study of Uzbekistan,” in Alfred J. Rieber and Alvin Z. Rubinstein (eds.). Perestroika at the Crossroads, pp. 264-77. New York/London: M.E. Sharpe, Inc. ——. (1997). “Language Policy in Independent Uzbekistan,” Stockholm FoCAS Working Paper 1, Forum for Central Asian Studies. ——. 1998. “New Language Laws in Uzbekistan,” Language Problems and Language Planning, vol. 22, no. 2 (1998), pp. 143-81. Smith, Graham; Vivien Law, Andrew Wilson, Annette Bohr, and Edward Allworth, (1998). Nation-building in the Post-Soviet Borderlands: The Politics of National Identities. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, Chapter 9, “Language policy and ethnic relations in Uzbekistan,” pp. 197-223, notes pp. 278-83. C. Language Learning Resources AATP (n.d.). American Association of the Teachers of Persian. Retrieved August 9, 2010, from http://www.aatpersian.org/home.html. ——. (2004). American Association of Teachers of Turkic. Retrieved August 19, 2010, from http://www.princeton.edu/~ehgilson/aatt.html. Azimova, Nigora. (2010). Uzbek: An Elementary Textbook. Washington, DC: Georgetown University. Balochi language (n.d.). In focus: Balochi language. Retrieved September 2, 2010 from http://users.tpg.com.au/users/goshti/index.htm. CARLA (2009a). Center for Advanced Research on Language Acquisition. Retrieved August 19, 2010 from http://www.carla.umn.edu. ——. (2009b). Less commonly taught languages: Ask the experts. Retrieved August 19, 2010 from http://www.carla.umn.edu/lctl/resources/experts.html. CeLCAR (2009). Center for Languages of the Central Asian Region. Retrieved August 9, 2010, from http://www.indiana.edu/~celcar/. Engesæth, Tarjei, Mahire Yakup, and Arienne Dwyer. (2009). Teklimakandin Salam: hazirqi zaman Uyghur tili qollanmisi / Greetings from the Teklimakan: a handbook of Modern Uyghur. Lawrence: University of Kansas Scholarworks. Online at: http:// hdl.handle.net/1808/5624. Indiana University (2004). Languages on-line. Retrieved August 27, 2010, from http://web .archive.org/web/20060524131102, http://languagelab.bh.indiana.edu/pashto.html. Nasrullo, Khojayori. (2009). Tajiki: An Elementary Textbook. Washington, DC: Georgetown University. NCOLCTL (2010). National Council of Less Commonly Taught Languages. Retrieved September 2, 2010 from http://www.ncolctl.org/node/1. NMELRC (2010). National Middle Eastern Language Resource Center. Retrieved August 27, 2010, from http://www.nmelrc.org/. OELA (2004). National Clearinghouse for English Language Acquisition and Language Instruction Educational Programs. Language and cultures of Afghanistan. Retrieved January 29, 2005, from http://www.ncela.gwu.edu/resabout/culture/7 _languages/afghan.html. Online Persian Language Learning Resource (n.d.). Retrieved August 9, 2010, from http://www.u.arizona.edu/~talattof/persian/. Resources for Learning Pashto (n.d.). Resources for the study of Pashto literature. Retrieved August 30, 2010, from http://www.southasia.upenn.edu/pashto/. SALRC (n.d.). South Asia Language Resource Center. Retrieved August 30, 2010, from http://salrc.uchicago.edu. UCLA Language Materials Project: Teaching resources for less commonly taught languages (2004). Retrieved August 30, 2010 from http://www.lmp.ucla.edu. University of Arizona Critical Languages Program (2010). Critical Languages Series. Retrieved August 19, 2010, from http://clp.arizona.edu/cls/. University of Minnesota Learning Resource Center. (2002). Digital South-Asia Language Archive. Retrieved August 27, 2010, from http://lrc.lib.umn.edu/dsala.htm.

CHAPTER TWELVE

CONCLUSION Harold F. Schiffman In our preface to this volume, we stated that our goal would be to construct an updated picture of languages and language policy in the region, and give potential language learners a clearer picture of what kinds of resources exist, and what is still needed. One of the goals was to attempt to define what ‘model’ of multilingualism characterizes the region as a whole, and to see if some definition of ‘diglossia’ would serve as such a model. The conclusion we can draw from a consideration of this question for each chapter is that although the Ferguson and Fishman models of diglossia are appropriate to a certain extent in the area, it is clear that things are changing, and in particular the language(s) that had previously been the clear H language(s) in a number of linguistic cultures of the region have now either been changed, challenged, or reached a state where researchers cannot agree on how to characterize them. The question of the appropriateness of diglossia, either the classic type (Fergusonian) or the extended (Fishman) type, is complicated by the fact that diglossia is not an ‘either-or’ proposition, but can vary widely. Thus if Arabic is taken as the quintessentially diglossic language, then since Arabic diglossia is probably the most extreme in its difference between the H-variety (classical Arabic) and the L-varieties (its dialects), all other languages pale by comparison, and one can conclude, as some scholars do, that a language like Persian, where diglossia is less extreme than in Arabic, ought therefore not to be thought of as diglossic, especially not in the Fergusonian sense. But this still leaves the other model—the ‘Fishman’ or ‘extended’ type—which used to be typical in situations like the relationship of Persian to Urdu in South Asia, and to Pashto in both what is now Pakistan, and in Afghanistan. The dilemma of how to characterize multilingualism in the area is writ large in Afghanistan, where over time there has been a kind of fluctuation between Dari/Persian on the one hand, and Pashto on the

conclusion

355

other, with no clear final outcome emerging as to which will prevail as the ‘dominant’ or ‘official’ language of Afghanistan. The new constitution promulgated in 2003 also extends rights to other languages,1 but whether any of them have benefited so far from this is not clear. Part of the lack of clarity is attributable to the ongoing war in the area, and subsequent lack of political stability. Given the dearth of available schools and the extremely low rate of literacy in the area, questions about what language might be used for schooling are simply moot. But the lack of clarity also surely has to do with the confusion about what constitutes the ‘standard’ version of Pashto, as shown by Hakala’s article on the subject—Pashto seems to be a language that lacks an overall agreed-upon ‘high’ or ‘standard’ version—what Kloss (1978) once referred to as a ‘dachlose Dialekt’ i.e. a (or a series of ) dialects that lack the overarching ‘roof ’ or protection of a standard language. Kloss was of course referring to German dialects such as Letzebuergesch, which lacked the ‘protection’ of standard High German. But since Pashto is spoken in both Afghanistan and Pakistan, and particularly in the latter case clearly plays second fiddle to Urdu, no agreed-upon standard has emerged. In Afghanistan, of course, it has had to compete with Persian/Dari, which automatically has higher prestige in the region. In some parts of the region, as Robert Nichols points out (this volume). Pashto (or other regional languages) suffers from the dominance of both Urdu and English, i.e., it is what we might call the ‘low man on the linguistic totem pole’—it may be the language learned at home, but Urdu and English have more prestige, and it cannot compete in a ‘modernist’ environment, especially urban areas. Where it is used, however, is in madrasas operated by militant Islamists, either as the only medium of instruction, or as a ‘language of explanation’ where Arabic is the subject of study. We also see that in the Central Asian republics of the former Soviet Union, languages that were recognized as separate, (and mostly) Turkic languages, were legitimized beginning in 19242 by the Soviets in a ‘divide-and-conquer’ mode, which emphasized their separateness

1 Article Sixteen states that “From among the languages of Pashto, Dari, Uzbeki, Turkmani, Balochi, Pashaei, Nuristani, and other languages spoken in the country, Pashto and Dari are the official languages of the state.” 2 See the article by Schlyter in this volume.

356

harold f. schiffman

and distinctiveness; they have now been cut loose from Soviet control, and are struggling to define themselves based on their own perceptions, rather than having the Soviets do this for them. This has meant that dialects of a language like Uzbek, if spoken in an area remote from Uzbekistan itself, may be closer in some ways to whatever is spoken locally than to standard Uzbek. And in some cases, speakers may find it advantageous to declare themselves to be speakers of the local dominant titular language, rather than retain their allegiance to a standard language spoken far away. In the Soviet period, resources were available to support education in these now dachlose dialects; today that support is shrinking. Add to this the diluted status of Russian, formerly the clear H variety in a Fishman-type diglossia, and a once-clear choice for a default language, especially in education, and we have a hard time stating what model of multilingualism we are dealing with. In other words, if Russian is no longer the H variety, what will replace it—English? Persian? Or will the group succeed in creating an H-variety of its own that can function as a language of science and technology? The latter outcome, one that appeals to nationalist instincts, is one that is so fraught with difficulty that it probably has no chance of succeeding, but is a factor ignored by nationalist ideologies. Another issue dealt with in at least one of the contributors to this volume is that of ‘reversing language shift’ in areas such as Kazakhstan, where speakers of local languages had in fact given up their languages in favor of an H variety. This was particularly prevalent in the Central Asian republics of the former Soviet Union, because of the massive influx of Russian speakers into some if not all of the republics. Since Russians were ‘first among equals’ in the Soviet Union, a covert if not overt kind of russification became more common after 1938. Subsequently, as Russian in-migration became more of a flood in the 1960’s, and Russian schooling became available to all who wanted it, upward-mobile members of the republics’ elites began to shift to Russian, not only in their education and professions, but as a home language. Now, in the post-Soviet period, there is a push to reverse this shift, and return to the titular language. But as Fishman (1991) has shown, RLS can be problematical. What has happened in Kazakhstan, however, is that RLS has resulted, not just in a shift from Russian as a language of wider communication (LOWC), but also to some extent to English, as enrollments in the latter have increased dramatically. Russian is still an obligatory subject

conclusion

357

in schools in this republic, but other LOWC’s are now seen as having an important place, and the globalization of English has also reached areas of the former Soviet Union. As for Pakistan, Afghanistan and Iran, English had already occupied an important niche in the linguistic ecology of those areas, and will not be easily dislodged. References Afghanistan, Constitution of. (2003). The Constitution of Afghanistan Year 1382 (2003). Fishman, Joshua A. (1991). Reversing Language Shift. Clevendon: Multilingual Matters. Kloss, Heinz. (1978). Die Entwicklung neuer germanischer Kultursprachen seit 1800. 2nd edition. Munich: Schwann.

INDEX Abdu’l-Rahman Khan, 7-9 Abdur Rahman, Amir, 32 Abrar, Sayedul, 73-4 Académie Française, 35 Academy of Persian Language and Literature, 111 Achaemenian Empire, 9, 94-5 Achaemenians, 6 acquisition of language. See also mother tongue: diglossia model of multilingualism and, 16 Adi Granth (Sikh religious text), 288-9, 292, 304 Afghan Empire, 324; Baloch culture and, 320 Afghanistan. See also Democratic Republic of Afghanistan; Islamic Republic of Afghanistan: Balochi culture and language in, 320-2, 331-4; formation of, 6-9, 107; geographic isolation of, 6-7; historical development of language policy in, 33-6; Iranian cultural and political influence in, 99-101; language policy in, 31-1, 339-47; linguistic diversity in, 31-3; number of languages in, 2-4; official language concept in, 36-46; Pashto status in, 8-12, 31-2, 36-51, 99-101, 109, 268; Pashtun cultural identity in, 56-63; Pashtun population statistics in, 58-9, 58n.8, 263; Persian (Dari) language in, 35-6, 92-4, 103-4, 109, 268; post-Taliban era in, 49-50; Soviet invasion of, 4, 46-7, 268-9 Afghan languages: classification of, 55-63; geographical and historical factors in development of, 4-9; national and local identities, 4-9; research history concerning, 2-4 Afghan Marxist-Leninist Party, 38 Afghan Millat (Afghan Nation), 42, 45 Afghan Muslim Youth Organization, 42 Afghan Putsch of 1978, ix Afghan Red Crescent, 38 Africa: oral and literate culture in, 290-1 Ahady, Anwar ul-Haq, 32, 44, 48-9, 82 Ahmadi, Wali, 63 Ahmadiyya community, 278

Ahmadzai clan, 325-6 Aitchinson, Charles, 312 Akbar (Mughal Emperor), 265 Alam family, 325-6 Alexander I (Czar of Russia), 3 alphabet reform: Iranian language policy and, 111-2; Karakalpak language and, 194; literacy rates and 97-8; Soviet initiation of, 97-9; for Uzbek language, 181-2; Uzbek russification and, 182-5 al-Zahir, Abd (Dr.), 40 Amanullah (King), 35, 99 American Presbyterian Mission, 298, 300, 304 Amin, Hafizullah, 42-3, 46, 81 Amir Habibullah, 34 Amir Shir Ali Khan, 34 Andropov, Yuri, 144 Angar, Faiz Muhammad, 38 Anis (Comrad) (newspaper), 36 Anjoman-i-Adabi (Literary Society), 35. See also Pashto Tolena Ansari, Bayazid, 73, 265 Arabic: diglossia model of, 14n.9; in early Punjab society, 287; evolution of, 91; stability of, 16 Arabic script: New Persian use of, 9, 11 Aramaic script: Middle Persian in, 9 Ataturk, Kemal, 99, 111 Atlas Linguistique des Parlers Dardes et Kafirs (Fussman), 77-8 Aurangzeb, 75 Azari language, 111-2 Azerbaijian: Cyrillic alphabet in, 97 Baba, Rhaman, 274 Babur (Mughal King of India), 75 Badakhshi, Taher, 42 Baloch culture: Balochi language in context of, 322-6; colonial stereotypes of, 56n.5; ethno-linguistic awareness in, 55; history of, 320-2; national identity and, 326-34; Pashtun interaction with, 55, 56n.4 Balochi Academy, 2, 328 Balochi language, 44; Baloch history and, 322-6; biography of, 319-34; dialects

360

index

in, 330-4; in early Punjab culture, 289-90; evolution of, 11, 13; future status of, 332-4; as lingua franca, 68n.18; national identity and, 326-34; standard-with-dialects system and, 17; written construction of, 320-2 Balochistan: education and literacy in Pashto in, 271; links to Iran and, 325-6; post-Partition establishment of, 322-6 Bangladesh: Balochistan history and, 323; Persian language status in, 89 Barfield, Thomas J., 57, 83-4 Barkazai clan: Baloch culture in Iran and, 324-6 Bartens, Angela, 121 Barth, Fredrik, 56n.4, 57n.7, 326 Bela, Las, 320 Berdymukhammedov, Gubanguly, 230 Bible: Indian translations of, 296-7 bilingual cultures: power and solidarity in, 25-6 bilingualism: Afghan Constitutional Monarchy and official policy for, 39-42; in Afghanistan educational system, 37-46, 78-9, 82-4; in Central Asian republics, 223-4; in Pakistan, 279-80; in Pashtun communities, 66-70 Binawa, Abdul Raʾuf, 38 Bolan literary journal, 328 Bolshevik Russia: language policy in, 126-30, 214-6; Uzbek russification under, 182-5 border politics: language policies in Central Asia and, 214-6 Brahui dialect, 330 Brass, Paul, 56n.5 British East India Company, 307; Afghanistan and, 3 Brown, Roger, 25 Bugti tribe, 323-4 Bustan (Persian text), 286 “Cabuliwallah, The” (Tagore), 54n.3 Can Language Be Planned (Fishman), 124-5 Can Threatened Languages Be Saved? (Fishman), 121 Cannon, G., 76-7, 84 Carey, William (Rev.), 295-8, 303 Caron, James, 53n.1, 63 caste system: in early Punjab society, 287n.15

Catalan: language shift with, 121-2 Center for the Publication of UzbekLanguage Textbooks (CPULT), 240-1 Central Asia: economic change in, 219-21; geographical factors in language policies in, 214-6; lack of language arbiter in post-Soviet era, 218-9; language and cultural trends in, 222-4; map of, 5; Persian language in, 7-8, 96-101; research sources for language policy in, 340-7; Soviet language policy implementation and repression and, 216-8; Soviet nationalities policy in, 13; technology development in, 221-2; Uzbek language in, 208-7 centrally managed economic policies: in Central Asian republics, 219-21 Chaghatay language, 178-80, 178n.6, 189-91 Chatterjee, Partha, 63 Chernenko, Konstantin, 144 China: Persian language in, 10, 90-1, 95, 109, 115-6 class politics in Afghanistan: ethnolinguistic awareness and, 42-3; Pashto language and, 81-4 classical diglossia: extended diglossia vs., 18-9; Pashto complexity and, 54; Persian and, 89, 102-4 colonialism: missionary encounters with Punjabi and, 294-304; Northwest India language policy under, 282-315; Pashto language policies and, 263-7; Persian language status and, 91, 107-9; prevalence of Urdu over Punjabi and, 301-12; Punjabi language policies and, 291-4, 313-5 communication technology: communication patterns and changes in, 2 Communist Party of Kazakhstan, 147 Constitutional Monarchy in Afghanistan: official bilingualism under, 39-42 Crews, Robert D., 55 cuneiform writing: Old Persian and, 9 Cust, Robert, 297, 310-2 Cyrillic alphabet: abolition in Uzbekistan, 194; use in Tajikistan of, 97-9; Uzbek russification using, 182-5 Da Atam Jamiat text, 275 Dames, M. Longworth, 329-30

index Daoud, Muhammad, 38-9, 43 Dardic languages, 11, 77-8 Dari. See also Farsi; Persian: decline under Taliban of, 49; dominance in Afghanistan, 8, 12, 32-3, 37, 39-41, 80, 89, 268; linguistic nationalism and terminology of, 105-9; military use of, in Afghanistan, 60n.14; as national Afghan language, 43-8, 50-1, 99-101; national identity associated with, 100-1; Pashto’s coexistence in Afghanistan with, 60-3, 79-84; in Pashtun culture, 55; Tajik links to, 231; Western attitudes toward, 101-4 Darwezah, Akhwand, 73, 265 Daud, Daud Khan, 273 Dave, Bhavna, 141-2 DDD (newspaper), 242 De Afghanistan Kalanai (The Afghanistan Annual), 36 De Kabul Mojalla (The Kabul Annual), 36 democracy: ethno-linguistic awareness and, 42-3 Democratic Republic of Afghanistan: language policy in, 41, 43-6 “deported nationalities”: in Kazakhstan, 216-8 devanagri (Hindi script), 288 developers: linguistic registers and role of, 23-4 Diamond, Jeffrey M., 13, 282-315 diglossia model of multilingualism: acquisition of language in, 16; age-related trends in, 141-5; basic components of, 14-26; classical vs. extended diglossia, 18-20, 54; classification of, 1-2; current and future research issues, 354-7; definition, 14; distribution in language families, space, and time, 17-8; functional differentiation in, 15; grammar in, 17; Kazakh language policy and, 148-50, 161-4; language shift and reversing language shift, 20, 122-6; lexicon in, 17; linguistic culture and, 24-6; linguistic registers, 21-4; literacy and, 18, 24-5; literary heritage and, 15-6; Pashto language and, 54-65, 263-80; Persian and, 112-6; phonology, 17; power and prestige and, 18; power and solidarity in, 24-6; prestige as factor in, 15; Punjab precolonial and early colonial

361

language and society and, 285-91; shifting domains and, 25; stability of language in, 16; standardization in, 16; standard-with-dialects vs., 17; time-related development, 18; in Uzbekistan, 198-200 District Gazeteers: in Balochi, 328-34; in Punjabi, 293-4, 305 dominant languages: language shifts and, 122-3 DOSAAF: Soviet language policy implementation and, 216-8 Dostam, Abdul Rashid, 82 Dupree, Louis, 58, 65 Duran, Mortimer (Sir), 7 Durand Line, 7, 32, 38, 49, 56 Durrani, Ahmad Shah, 6, 8, 11, 32-3, 320; descendants in Iran of, 324-6 Durrani, Timur, 8, 11 Durrani tribe, 32, 80 Dvoryankov, N., 65 Eastern Caliphate, 95 economic conditions: Central Asian republics’ language policies and, 219-21; in Kazakhstan, 245-9, 253-4; in Tajikistan, 233-7 education: in Afghanistan New Democracy era, 76-7; in Balochi, 328-34; British colonial administration in Central/South Asia and, 266-7; Central Asian language policies and, 210-57; future of Uzbek language in, 203-5, 249-56; in Kazakhstan, 246-9, 253-4; Kazakhstan, Russian dominance in, 139-40; Kazakhstan reverse language shift and, 158-60; in Kyrgyzstan, 239-45, 251-3; Pashto as official language for, 36-46, 267-80; Soviet control of, in Central Asia, 220-1; in Tajikstan, language policies and, 232-7, 249-50; in Turkmenistan, post-Soviet era policies, 226-30, 254-6; Uzbek dominance in Central Asia of, 225-6; in Uzbekistan, language proficiency in, 196-8, 198-9 electronic media: in Kyrgyzstan, 242-3; in Tajikistan, 237 Elfenbein, Joseph, 319-20, 322 Elphinstone, Mountstuart, 3, 6 Elphinstone, N. W., 311-2 English: linguistic registers and role of, 21-4; multilingualism and changes to,

362

index

2; in North West Frontier Province schools, 268, 271-2, 275, 279-80; Persian similarities with, 103-4; popularity in Uzbekistan of, 201-2; use in British colonial India of, 283 ethno-linguistic awareness: in Balochi culture, 330-4; democracy and, 42-6; Iranian language policy and, 110-2; in Pashtun culture, 55-63; Persian language and, 96-101 ethno-politics: Western imperialism in Afghanistan and, 10-2 European languages: value in Central Asia of, 76-7 extended diglossia: classical diglossia vs., 18-9 family: language use in, 152-3 Farhadi, A. G. Ravan, 2-3 Farsi. See also Dari; Persian: Dari vs., 99-101; evolution of terminology, 92-101; linguistic nationalism and terminology of, 105-9; Tajik links to, 231; use in Afghanistan of, 8, 40-1, 89; as written language in Kyrgyzstan, 251-3 Ferguson, Charles, 14, 112-4, 122n.5 Ferrando, Olivier, 234-5, 240-1, 250 Fierman, William, 12-3, 20, 121-70 Fishman, Joshua, 14, 18-9, 121-6, 152n.69, 163-4, 170 Fitrat, Abdurrauf, 181 foreign policy: educational language policy initiatives and, 280 Forsyth, Thomas Douglas, 311 “Framework for Expanding the Sphere of Functions of the State Language and Raising its Competitiveness for 2007–2010,” 153 freedom of the press: ethno-linguistic awareness and, 42-3 Fuller, A. R., 303 functional differentiation: diglossia model of multilingualism, 15; Pashto limitations and, 60-1, 60n.14 Fussman, Gérard, 77-8 Gazetteer of the Rawalpindi District, 294 gender-balanced content: in Pashto textbooks, shifts in, 268-75 geographical factors: Afghan language development, 4-9; Central Asian language policies and, 214-6; diglossia model distribution and, 17-8; in

Kazakh RLS, 130-7; in Pashto dialect differentiation, 65-70 Georgian language: survival in Soviet Union of, 129-30 German language: in Uzbekistan, 202 German population in Kazakhstan, 132, 165-6 Ghauri, Aruf Ali Khan, 273 Ghazni (Afghan city), 8 Ghilzai tribe, 32, 44, 68n.18, 80 Gilman, A., 25 glasnost’: impact on language research of, 137n.37; Kazakh language policies and, 144-5 Goody, Jack, 290-1 Gorbachev, Mikhail, 144 Graded Intergenerational Disruption Scale (GIDS), 124-6, 156-7 grammar: colonial-era Punjabi language and standardization of, 299-301; diglossia model of multilingualism and, 16-7; in Pashto, literature sources on, 54-5, 68-70, 73-84; shared grammar of Punjabi-Urdu and, 30212; standardization of, 16 Grammar of the Punjabee Language, A (Carey), 296, 303 Great Britain: Baloch history and role of, 322-6; Democratic Republic of Afghanistan and, 44; Indian Empire of, 11; invasion of Afghanistan by, 3-4, 7, 266; Punjab annexation by, 292-4; Urdu language policy during empire of, 92, 103, 109, 115-6, 266 Greek culture: evolution of Persian and, 94-101 Gregorian, Vatan, 35 Grierson, George Abraham, 61, 300-1 Groff, Cynthia, 339-47 Gulistan (Persian text), 286 gurmukhi (Punjabi script), 288, 296-301, 303-5 Haileybury College, 307, 310-2 Hakala, Walter, 12, 15, 53-84, 355 Halliday, M. A. K., 21 Haq, Syed Anwar ul, 275 Hashabeiky, 110 Hashim, Muhammad, 37 Hassan, Hazrat Imam, 274 Hazarah organizations, 82 H domain, diglossia model: acquisition of language and, 16; basic principles, 14-5; classical vs. extended variants,

index 18-20; Dari in Afghanistan and, 62-3; functional differentiation and, 15; grammar, 17; language shift and reversing language shift, 20; lexicon, 17; linguistic culture and, 24-6; linguistic registers and, 21-4; literacy and, 24-5; literary heritage and, 15-6; Pashto and, 64-5, 72-84; phonology, 17; power and prestige of, 18; prestige of, 15; stability, 16; standardization, 16; standard-with-dialects model and, 17; time-based development of, 18 Hekmatyar, Golbudin, 42-3 Henderson, Michael M. T., 65, 70-1 Herat (Afghanistan), 7 ‘heritage language’ concept, 102 Herodotus, 91, 93, 101 higher education: Kazakhstan, reverse language shift in, 159-60 Hikmatya, Gulbuddin, 82 Hindavi language, 75 Hindi language, 92, 96, 288 Hindko language, 64-5 Hindu culture: in early Punjab society, 286-7; Persian influence in, 95, 286-7 Hindustani. See Urdu Hir Ranjha, 288 historical factors: in Afghan language development, 4-9; diglossia model of multilingualism and, 18 Hizb-i Islami, 81-3 Hizb-i Watan (‘Homeland Party’), 81-2 hyperglossia: Pashto in context of, 60-1 Idiomatic Sentences, in English and Panjabi, 298 Ijaz, Niaz Muhammad, 273 India: British imposition of Urdu in, 92, 103, 109, 115-6; colonial-era Northwest India, language policy in, 282-315; Hindi vs. Urdu in, 100; missionaries in, 294-301; Pashtuns in, 57-63, 263; Persian language status in, 11-2, 89-92, 96-7, 103, 115-6; Perso-Islamic culture in, 285 international cultural heritage: Persian lanaguage status and, 105 internationalism: history in Russia of, 126-30, 214-6 Iqbal, Allama, 275 Iran: Baloch culture and language in, 324-6, 329-34; historical legacy of, 107-9; language policy in, 109-12; literacy rate in, 111-2, 114-6; origins

363

of, 6-7; Persian as national language of, 89, 96-104; Persian language status and, 106-9; Turkic languages in, 96 Iranian Academy (Farhangestan), 110 Iranian diaspora: Balochi language and, 319-22; Persian language and, 101-4 Iranian Empires of the Parthians: Persian in, 9 Iranian Plateau: nationalism and geography of, 9-10 Iranian Revolution of 1978, ix; language policy following, 101; Persian language evolution and, 111-2 Irish Gaelic: language shift with, 121-2 Islah (Reform) (newspaper), 36 Islamic culture: Afghanistan’s isolation from, 3; in early Punjab society, 286-8, 287n.18; growth of, 11; literacy linked to, 99-101; in Pakistani textbooks and education system, 267-9, 274-80; Pashtuns and, 56n.4; Persian language in, 91-101; in textbooks for Pakistan, 274-5 Islamic Republic of Afghanistan, 47-8 Islamist MMA Alliance, 269 “Islamiyat” curriculum: in Pakistan textboooks, 270-1, 276-80 Jagdal dialect, 330 Jahanbani, Amir Amanullah, 325 Jahani, Carina, 319-20 Jami’at-i-Islami-i Afghanistan (Islamic Organization of Afghanistan), 38-9, 42-3, 45-6 Janubiy Qozog’iston (newspaper), 248 Janvier, Levi, 300 Japan: alphabet and literacy rates in, 98 jihad: as theme in Pakistan textbooks, 274 Jinnah, M. A., 274, 278 Jones, William, 116 Kabul (Afghan capital), 8 Kabul Radio: Pashto programs on, 39 Kabul University: Pashto literacy campaign and, 41-2 Kafir languages, 77-8 Kalat Khanate, 320, 322-6 Karakalpak Autonomous Republic, 194 Karakalpak language: in Uzbekistan, 191-4 Karimov, Islam, 204, 237 Karlanri Federal-Administered Tribal Areas, 57n.7

364

index

Karmal, Babrak, 42-6, 81 Kashmiri language, 289-90 Kayasths ethnic group, 286-8 Kazakh language: cultural support in Kazakhstan for, 161-3; decline of competency in Kazakhstan in, 141-5, 253-4; education and mass media language policy in, 222-3; formal state policy in support of, 146-57; in Kyrgyzstan, 251n.117; limitations on research concerning, 137n.37; reverse language shift in fortunes of, 125-6, 130, 157-70; status in late Soviet era of, 137-45; in Uzbekistan, 198-9 Kazakh SSR Council of Ministers, 147 Kazakhstan: birthrate trends in, 166-70; educational system, reverse language shift in, 139-40, 158-63; ethnic breakdown of population in, 133-7; formal state Kazakh policy in, 146-57; geography and demographics of, 130-7, 166-70; independent Kazakhstan language policy, 150-3; language evolution in, 12, 121-70; mass media in, Kazakh vs. Russian languages in, 140-1; population statistics for, 130-2; Qazaq tili qoghami activities in, 153-7; reversing language shift in, 125-6, 130, 133-7; Soviet Kazakh language policy in, 146-50; Soviet language policy implementation in, 216-8; Uzbek language in, 245-9, 253-4; workplace environment, reverse language shift in, 139, 157-8 Khair ul-Bayan (‘Excellence of Expression’), 73, 265 Khaldun, Ibn, 322 Khalq (Masses) party, 42-6, 81 Khan, Abdul Gaffar, 267, 278-9 Khan, Amanullah, 267 Khan, Dost Muhammad, 332 Khan, Garmanullah, 273 Khan, Ismail, 82 Khan, Muhammad Alam, 273 Khan, Syed Makmud, 273, 275 Khari Boli dialect, 307-8 Khatris ethnic group, 286-7 Khushal Khan Khattak, 59 Khyber Pushtunkhwa, 13; Pashto language in, 63-5 Kieffer, Charles M., 69-70 Kipling, Rudyard, 54n.3 koine: Persian function as, 10-2

Kolbin, Gennadii, 145, 164-5 Kunayev, Dinmukhamed, 145 Kurd ethnic minority: Balochs and, 325-6 Kurdish language: Balochi language and, 329-34; Pashto compared with, 59; in post-revolution Iran, 112 Kyrgyz language: in Uzbekistan, 198-9 Kyrgyzstan: Uzbek language in, 237-45, 251-3; Uzbek population in, 237-9 Lal, Munshi Charanjit, 293 L’Almanach de Kaboul, 35 lande (Punjabi script), 288 language attitudes: colonial understanding of language and, 301-12; formation of, 178 language families: diglossia model distribution in, 17-8 language learning resources, 343-7 language of wider communication (LOWC): /current and future research issues, 356-7; English as, 170; Russian as, 170; utility of, 21-3 language planning: defined, 177n.3; in Kazakhstan, 169-70; policy vs. implmentation and, 124-6; in Uzbekistan, 176-8, 191 language policy: in Afghanistan, 31-51; in Central Asian republics, 216-8; colonial choice of Urdu over Punjabi and, 301-15; in colonial Northwest India, 282-315; defined, 177n.3; of Democratic Republic of Afghanistan (DRA), 43-6; implementation of, 26-7; in independent Kazakhstan, 150-3; in Iran, 109-12; Karakalpak language in Uzbekistan and, 191-4; literary Pashto and, 73-84; in NWFP education system, 268-80; official language concept in Afghanistan and, 36-46; Pashto and, 36-51, 61-3, 263-4; Persian language status and, 104-9; in post-Taliban Afghanistan, 49-50; research resources in Central Asia for, 339-47; reverse language shift and, 122-6; Soviet nationality and, 126-30; in Soviet Union, 208-9; in Uzbekistan, 12-3, 176-205 language purists: linguistic registers and role of, 22-4 language reform: in Uzbekistan, 176-8 language shifts: diglossia model of multilingualism and, 20-1; in

index Kazakhstan, 121-70; in Tajikistan, 249-51 language testing: in Kazakhstan, Kazakh status and, 159-60 “Law of the Republic Of Kazakhstan on Language(s) of the Republic of Kazakhstan” (LL97), 150-3 Law on Languages (1989) (Kazakhstan), 148-50 Lawrence, Henry, 306-10 Lawrence, John, 306-12 L domain, diglossia model: acquisition of language and, 16; basic principles, 14-5; classical vs. extended variants, 18-20; functional differentiation and, 15; grammar, 17; lack of standardization in, 16; language shift and reversing language shift, 20; lexicon, 17; linguistic culture and, 24-6; linguistic registers and, 21-4; literacy and, 24-5; literary heritage and, 15-6; Pashto and, 64-5; phonology, 17; power and prestige of, 18; prestige of, 15; stability, 16; standard-with-dialects model and, 17; time-based development of, 18 Leech, Robert, 302-3 Lenin, Vladimir, 44 Le Persan Parlé en Afghanistan, 2 “less commonly taught” languages: Persian status as, 102-5 *le Strange, 95 lexicon: diglossia model of multilingualism and, 17; Pashto literary tradition and, 73-84 lingua franca: Dari in Afghanistan as, 32-3 lingua franca: Russian in Uzbekistan as, 194-8 linguistic culture: diglossia model of multilingualism and, 24-6; in Punjab colonial era, 291-4 linguistic diversity: in Afghanistan, 31-3 linguistic register: defined, 22; development of, 22-3; diglossia model of multilingualism and, 21-4 linguistic russification: in Kazakhstan, 128n.25, 133n.35, 142; Soviet policies for, 12, 97, 128; in Uzbekistan, 182-5 Linguistic Survey of India (Grierson), 61, 300-1 link languages: Pashto as, 60-1 literacy: alphabets linked to, 97-8; in Balochi language, 320-2, 328-34;

365

British colonial concepts of, 293-4; Democratic Republic of Afghanistan campaign for, 45-6; diglossia model of multilingualism and, 24-5; in early Punjab society, 286-7; low rate of, in Pashtun culture, 41-2, 59-63, 59n.9; in Pashto, 72-84, 100-1, 270-80; Persian as language of, 10-1, 90-1, 96-101; in post-revolutionary Iran, 111-2, 114-6; in Punjabi, 303-4; Urdu as language of, 13, 92; in Uzbekistan, 181-2, 195-8 Literacy Corps (Iran), 111, 114 literary heritage: diglossia model of multilingualism and, 15; in Pashtun culture, 59-63; of Persian, 93-4, 96-101; in Punjabi language, 288-90; Uzbek language and, 180-2 literature: in Dari, 32, 40-1; in Pashto language, 12, 32 literature review of Pashto research, 53-5 “literization,” Pashto literature and, 76n.22 local identities: Afghan languages and, 4-9 Ludhiana Mission, 298-300, 302, 304 MacKenzie, D. N., 59, 65, 71-2, 75-6 madrasas: colonial language policies and, 266; Pashto language in, 268-9 Mahabharata, 287n.14 Majalla-i Kabul (Kabul Gazette), 35. See also De Kabul Mojalla Makhzan al-Islam (‘Treasury of Islam’), 73, 265 Makrani dialect, 329 maktabs (Persian schools): in colonial Punjab, 286-7 Malcolm, John, 292, 304 Malik, Hazrat Imam, 275 Marçais, W., 14n.8 Maroof, Farzana, 273 Marr, Nicholas, 128 Marri tribe, 323-4 Marxist-Leninist ideology: Democratic Republic of Afghanistan and, 43-7 Masnavi (Persian narrative poem), 288n.22 mass media: in Balochi, 328-34; Balochi language and culture in, 331-4; in Central Asia, Soviet control of, 220-1; in Central Asia, Uzbek dominance of, 225-30; Central Asian language policies and, 210-57; future of

366

index

Uzbek language in, 203-5, 249-56; in Kazakhstan, 140-1, 160-1, 247-9, 253-4; in Kyrgyzstan, 242-5, 251-3; in Tajikistan, limits on Uzbek language materials, 235-7; in Turkmenistan, post-Soviet era policies, 226-30 Masud, Ahmad Shah, 82 McIntosh, Angus, 21 Mektep textbook publisher, 246-9 Memlekettik qoghamdyq til qozghalysy (State Language Public Movement) (Kazakhstan), 155-7, 161-3 Memlekettik til qzghalysy (State Language Movement) (Kazakhstan), 155-7 Metcalfe, Charles, 307-8 Mezon (newspaper), 242 Mezon TV, 243 Middle Persian, 9, 90, 99 Middle Turkic Chaghatay language, 179-80 migration: within Kazakhstan, 166-70 military in Afghanistan: Pashto as ritual language in, 60n.14 Minhas, Rashid, 274 minority languages: Afghanistan awareness of, 42, 45-6; in Central Asia, 225-6; Pashto language as, 78-84 Minorsky, Vladimir, 329-30 Miran, M. Alam, 78-9 Mirs, Talpur, 320 missionaries in Central and South Asia: Punjabi language and, 294-301, 304 Moazzam, Anwar, 109 Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, 111 Mohmand, Syed Ahmed, 273 Momyshuly, Bauryzhan, 142 Mongols, 11, 90 monoglossic language environment: in Kazakh workplace, 139 Montgomery, Robert, 307 Morgenstierne, Georg, 2-3, 77-8, 264 mother tongue: Balochi language as, 328-9; diglossia model of multilingualism and, 16, 124-6; linguistic register and role of, 21-4; standard-with-dialects systems and, 17 Mughal Empire, 6-7, 75, 90-1, 103, 109, 285-6 Muhammad Zaher Shah, 8, 325 mujahedin: takeover of Afghanistan by, 48 multilingualism models: age-related trends in, 141-5; basic elements of,

13-26; current and future research issues, 354-7; language policies and, 1; Pashto in context of, 60-5; in Uzbekistan, 198-9 Muscadine Empire, 325-6 Muslim culture: Punjabi literary tradition and, 288-91 Muslim League: Pashtun culture and, 267 Nader Shah (King), 11, 35-6, 325-6 Nahv (Fitrat), 181 *Najibullah, 46-7, 81-2 Nanak, Guru, 289 Napoleon, 3 nastaliq (Punjabi script), 288, 299 national anthem: Pashto as language of, 49-50 national identity: Afghan languages and, 4-9; in Baloch culture, 326-34; Pashto designation as official language and, 36-46; Uzbek language as state language and, 185-9 nationalism: Afghanistan historical events and shaping of, 8-12; nineteenth-century emergence of, 3-4; Pashto language policies in Afghanistan and, 34-6; Pashtunistan self-determination and, 38-41; Persian language status and emergence of, 89, 95-101, 104-9; Taliban and Afghan resurgence of, 48-9 nationality policies: in Central Asia, 214-6 nativization (korenizatsiya) policy: in Uzbekistan, 180, 182-5 Nawid, Senzil, 12, 15, 31-51 Nazarbayev, Nursultan, 145, 155, 164-6, 230 New Persian: emergence of, 9, 90, 99-100 Newton, John, 299-301 Nichols, Robert, 13, 263-80, 355-6 Nimroz province: in Pashtun culture, 55-6; Urdu dominance in, 83 Niyazmand, Hamidullah, 83-4 Norgate, James, 57 North West Frontier province: culture of, 3; Pashto in, 13, 63, 263-80; Pastunistan issue and, 49; Persian in, 103; refugees in, 58; textbook publication in, 269-80 Northern Alliance, 82-3 Nuristani, 44 Nurtazin, Muhit, 153n.75

index October Revolution, 179 official language policy: bilingualism under Constitutional Monarchy, 39-42; evolution in Afghanistan of, 36-46; in Kyrgyzstan, 238-9, 244-5; Persian language and evolution of, 90-4 Old Persian, 9, 90 Olfat, Gul Pacha, 38 “On Improving the Study of the Kazakh Language in the Republic,” 147 Origin of the Sikh Power (Prinsep), 292 orthography: comparative survey of Urdu, Persian and Pashto, 60n.12; of Pashto, research on, 54-5, 59-60, 72-84; Uzbek russification and, 183-5 O’sh sadosi (newspaper), 242-5 Osh TV, 243 Ottoman Empire: Afghan language development and, 6-9; Persian language in, 10, 90-2, 108-9, 115; tanzimat period in, 110 Ottoman Turkish, 11 Pahlavi (Middle Persian), 9 Pahlavi, Reza Shah, 325-6, 332 Pakhto Dars Kitab (“Pakhto Class Book”) textbook series, 272-5 Pakhto Ka’aida’h (“Pakhto System”) textbook series, 272-5 Pakistan: Afghan Pashtun refugees in, 58, 63-5, 79-80, 268; Afghan relations with, 38-42; Balochi language in, 323-6, 332-4; creation of, 38; democracy vs. military rule in, ix; Durand Line with Afghanistan and, 7; educational system and textbooks in, 268-80; Federally Administered Tribal Areas in, 53n.7, 263, 271; Pashto language policy in, 53-4, 63-5, 268-80; Pashtun cultural identity in, 57-63; Pashtun population in, 58, 63-5, 79-80, 263, 267-8; Persian language status in, 89, 96, 109 Pakistan Studies: in NWFP educational system and textbooks, 270-1, 276-80 Panjabi: evolution of, 13 Parcham (Banner) party, 42-4, 81; ascendance of, 46-7 Parthians, Iranian Empires of, 9; evolution of Persian and, 94-5 Partition of British India, 322 Pashai, 44, 331

367

Pashto: in Afghanistan, 31-2; as Afghan national language, 8-9, 11-2, 36-51, 89; Arabic script used for, 11; Balochi language and, 324-6; dialect differentiation in, 59-60, 65-84; historical development in Afghanistan of, 33-6; lack of prestige for, 15; language policies concerning, 263-4; literary tradition in, 12, 32, 59-63, 72-84; in North West Frontier province, 263-80; origins of, 59n.10; in Pakistan, 13, 53-4, 63-5; Pashtunistan issue and, 38-9; Pashtun nationalist ambitions and advocacy for, 267; Persian coexistence with, 12, 36-41, 60-3, 68-9, 99-101; prescriptive grammars of, 3; radio programs in, 39; research and scholarship on, 263-4; resurgence under Taliban of, 48-9; secondary sources on status in Afghanistan of, 53-84; sociological research on, 53n.1; standardization of, 70-4; Taliban and resurgence of, 48-9, 51, 81-4; two-branches model of, 66-70; in Uzbekistan, 198-200, 202-3; varieties of, 65-70; as written language, 54, 59-60, 74-84 Pashto Maraka (Pashto Society), 35 Pashto Tolena (Pashto Academy), 36-8, 41-2, 61-3, 80 Pashtu, Muhammad Rasul, 38 Pashtun culture: Baloch culture and, 324-6; characteristics in Afghanistan of, 55-63; colonial stereotypes of, 56n.5; democracy and ethno-linguistic awareness in, 42-3; early history of Afghanistan and, 7-8; geographic boundaries of, 56-63; impact of war and politics on, 58-63; nationalism in, 8-9, 11-2, 38-9; trial dynasties in, 8 Pashtun ethnic group: in Pakistan, 58, 63-5, 79-80, 263; population statistics on, 58-9, 58n.8, 263 Pashtunistan: Pashto language policies and support for, 267; selfdetermination for, 38-41; Taliban and resurgence of, 49 Penzl, Herbert, 68-72, 77 People’s Democratic Party of Afghanistan (PDPA), 42-8, 50-1, 81 perestroika: Kazakh language policies and, 144-5 Persian. See also Dari; Farsi: Balochi language and, 319-22, 329-34; cultural

368

index

status in Afghanistan of, 9-12, 34-8, 40-1, 62-3, 75-84; current status of, 89; decline in prestige of, 76; diglossic aspects of, 112-6; evolution of, 94-101; geographical distribution and history of, 89-94; historical legacy of, 107-9; in India, 75, 282-3; influence on Pashto of, 12, 73; Iranian language policy and, 109-12; medieval status of, 114-6; multilingualism and changes to, 2; nationalist language policies and future of, 104-9; origins of, 91-4; Pashto’s coexistence with, 36-41, 60-3, 68-9, 263; prescriptive grammars of, 3; prestige of, 15; prominence in Kyrgyzstan of, 251-3; promotion in Afghanistan of, 35-6; Punjab precolonial and early colonial language and society and, 285-7; spoken and written forms of, 12; in Tajikistan, 89; Tajik links to, 80, 231; Urdu links to, 308-12; use in Central and South Asia of, 7-8, 75, 107-9, 265-6; Western attitudes towards, 101-4; as written language, 91-2 Persianate culture, 95 Perso-Arabic alphabet: early Punjabi language and, 288-90; in Tajikistan, 98-9 phonology: diglossia model of multilingualism and, 17; Pashto dialects and, 65-70, 72-84; Pashto orthography and, 54-5 poetry: in Balochi, 329-30; in Pashto, 73-84; in Persian, 92 Pokrovsky school, 126-7 politics and language policy: Afghan language reforms, 5-9; democracy in Afghanistan and, 42-3; Pashto language textbooks and, 269-80; Pashto research on, 54, 80-4; in postSoviet Uzbekistan, 190-1 Pollock, Sheldon, 75, 76n.22 Porter, Joseph, 300 power: diglossia model of multilingualism and role of, 18, 25-6 Pozitisiia (newspaper), 242 prestige of languages: colonial language policies and, 266-7; diglossia model of multilingualism, 15, 18; historical development of Pashto and, 33-6; Pashto dialects and, 68-70; Pashto in hierarchy of, 60-3; Persian language status and, 90-1; Uzbek as “high

language” of Uzbekistan, 199-200; in Uzbekistan, Russian language loss of prestige in, 194-8 “primus-inter-pares” status: for Russian in Uzbekistan, 195-8 Princely States. See Balochistan Prinsep, Henry, 292 *Pstrunsin*ska, Jadwiga, 80-1, 84 Punjabi Century, 314n.104 Punjabi language: colonial policies and selection of Urdu over, 301-12; current status of, 313-5; dialects of, 287n.16; dictionary in, 300; “intelligible” vs. “spoken” distinction concerning, 289-90; missionary encounters with, 294-301; oral nature of, 303-12; in pre-colonial and early colonial Punjab, 284-91; as Urdu “dialect,” 302-12; vernacularization and, 282-315; written forms of, 288 “Punjab School” of colonial administration, 306 Punjab state, 6; British annexation of, 292-4; colonialism and culture of, 291-4; geographical characteristics of, 285; oral and literate cultures in, 290-1; pre-colonial and early colonial language and society in, 284-91 Pushtu language, 289-90 “Qadiani” minority, 278 Qadir, Maulana Abdul, 275 Qajar dynasty, 325 Qandahar (first Afghan capital), 7-8, 35 Qasmi, Maulana Abdul Sabooh, 275 Qaydarov, A., 154-7 Qazaq tili qoghami (Kazakh Language Society), 153-7, 161-3, 167-70 Qizilbash, 11 Qur’an: Arabic stability and role of, 16; evolution of Persian and influence of, 91, 97 Rabbani, Borhanuddin, 42-3, 48 Rahman, Tariq, 73-4, 264, 271, 323 Rahman Baba, 59 Rahmon, Emomali (Tajikistan president), 232-7 Ramayana, 287n.14 Rashid al-Bayan (‘Guide of Expression’) (al-Rashid), 73, 75 Raverty, H. G., 59n.10, 264-5, 267 Report on a Linguistic Mission to North-west India (MacKenzie), 71

index Republic of Karakalpakistan, 191-4 research sources: for language policy in Central Asia, 339-47 Reversing Language Shift (Fishman), 121 reversing language shift (RLS): cultural support in Kazakhstan for, 161-3; current and future research issues, 356-7; diglossia model of multilingualism and, 20-1; family language patterns and, 152n.69; in Kazakhstan, 125-6, 130, 133-45, 163-70; moderate success in Kazakhstan of, 157-63; Soviet Kazakh language policy and, 147-50; theoretical background, 121-6 reversing languag shift (RLS): political context in Kazakhstan for, 143-5 Reza Shah Pahlavi, 92, 99, 110-1 Rishtya, Sayyid Qasim, 36-7 Romainzation: Persian language and, 111 Ronkin, Maggie, 340 Rubin, Joan, 26, 81-2 Russia. See also Soviet Union: British relations with, 6-9; expansion in Asia by, 107-9; history of language policy in, 126-30; invasion of Afghanistan by, 3-4, 33; population in Kazakstan from, 132-7 Russian language: in Afghanistan, teaching o, 77, 80-1; in Central Asia, current and future research issues, 356-7; decline of Uzbek proficiency in, 196-8; in Kazakhstan, 12, 125-6, 137-45, 139-45, 157-63; in Kyrgyzstan, status of, 237-45; multilingualism and changes to, 2; post-independence Kazakhstan language policy and continued influence of, 151-3; in postSoviet Central Asia, 208-57; Soviet Kazakh language policy in relation to, 148-50; in Tajikistan, 89, 97-9; in Uzbekistan, 189-91, 194-8 Rzehak, Lutz, 68n.18, 83 Safavid (Iranian) Empire, 6, 7, 108-9; Afghan invasion of, 9-10 Safr (Fitrat), 181 Salam, Abdus, 278 Saljuq Turks, 11 Salnama-i-Kabul (yearbook), 35. See also De Afghanistan Kalanai Sanskrit: in early Punjab society, 287; vernacular languages in India and, 285

369

“Sart” (Uzbek literary language form), 179-80 Sasanians Empire, 6; evolution of Persian and, 9, 94-5, 108-9 Saur Revolution of 1978, 80 Schiffman, Harold F., 1-27, 53n.1, 125, 264, 354-7 Schlyter, Birgit, 12, 20, 176-205 school-based language study: limitations of, 124-6 Seleucid Empire: evolution of Persian and, 94-5 Septfonds, Daniel, 58, 66, 70 Seraj al-Akhbar newspaper, 34 Serampore Mission: Punjabi language and work of, 295-8, 304 Setam-i-Milli (National Oppression), 42, 45 Shackle, Christopher, 64-5 Shah, Waris, 288 Shahid, Qazi Ahmad, 275 Shah Mahmud Khan, 37 Shakespear, John, 304 Shakhanov, Mukhtar, 155-7 shifting diglossias: classification of, 2; Pashto in modern Afghanistan as model of, 60-3 Shi’ism: historical legacy of, 108-9 Shoja (Shah), 3 Sho’la-i-Jawid (Eternal Flame), 42, 45 Sikh culture: in early Punjab, 285-6, 288, 292-4, 304 Silk Route, 6-7 silyaniye, Marxist-Leninist ideology of, 45 Sindh state, 6 Sindhi, 289-90; Baloch history and, 320; emergence of, 11 Singh, Maharaja Ranjit, 286 Siraj al-Akhbar, 62-3 Sketch of the Sikhs (Malcolm), 292, 304 Slavic population in Kazakhstan, 132, 165-6 Smagulova, Zhuldyz, 169-70 Society for Alphabet Reform, 111 sociolinguistic models: components of, 13-4; Pashto research and, 55 Soghd haqiqati (newspaper), 235-6 solidarity: diglossia model of multilingualism and role of, 25-6 South Asian languages: classical vs. extended diglossia models in, 19n.15 South Korea: alphabet and literacy rates in, 98

370

index

Southwest Asia: map of, 5 Soviet Communist Party: language policy in Central Asia and, 216-8; language policy in Kazakhstan under, 128-30, 164-70 Soviet Union. See also Russia: Central Asian economic policies under, 219-21; Central Asian language trends following collapse of, 208-57; collapse in 1991 of, ix; Democratic Republic of Afghanistan and influence of, 43-7; formal Kazakh language policy under, 146-50; invasion of Afghanistan by, 4, 46-7, 268-9; in Kazakhstan, 125-6, 137-45, 164-70; language policy in Tajikistan, 97-8; language policy in Uzbekistan and, 176-8; nationality and language policy in, 126-30; Pashtun culture and invasion by, 58, 79-84; Republic of Karakalpakistan and, 193-4; Russian language status following dissolution of, 194-8; standardization of Uzbek as Soviet language and, 178-80, 199-200; Uzbek language in, 179-80; withdrawal from Afghanistan by, 48 spelling standardization: Pashto dialects and, 72-84; in Persian, 98 Spooner, Brian, 1-27, 89-116, 125, 319-4 stability: diglossia model of multilingualism and, 16 Stalin, Josef, 128-30 standardization: diglossia model of multilingualism and, 16; in Pashto language, 70-84 standard-with-dialects systems: diglossia model of multilingualism and, 17; Pashto language and, 70-84 “State Program on the Development of the Kazakh Language and Other National languages in the Kazakh SSR in the Period Up Until 2000” (SP90), 149-50 Strevens, Peter, 21 Sufism: in early Punjab society, 287-8, 287n.18 Suleimenova, Eleonora, 169-70 Sunnis: historical legacy of, 108-9; Pashtuns as, 56n.4 Swat State: Pashto language in, 267 Syed, Aslam, 109 Syria: early boundaries of, 6

Tagore, Rabindranath, 54n.3 Tajikistan: leaders in Afghanistan from, 82-3; Pashto speakers in, 55-6; Persian language status in, 89, 93-4, 109; tojiki, renaming of Persian in, 97; Uzbek language in, 89, 99-100, 109, 230-7, 249-51; Uzbek population in, 230-2; Western imperialism and, 6 Tajik language: Dari and Farsi and, 80, 231; in Uzbekistan, 198-9 Taliban: linguistic violence in regime of, 84, 331-4; madrasa education of, 269; resurgence of Pashto under, 48-9, 51, 81-4 Tandon, Prakash, 314n.104 T and V pronouns: power and solidarity and use of, 25-6 Taraki, Nur Muhammad, 38, 42-6, 81 Tarikh-e-Zilla Dera Ismail Khan, 293 tarikhs: in colonial Punjab, 293-4 Tarzi, Amin, 55 Tarzi, Mahmud, 62-3 Tawfiq (Iranian satirical weekly), 111 technology: in post-Soviet Central Asia, 221-2 territorial borders: communication patterns and changes in, 2 textbooks: in Central Asian republics, 214-5, 217-9; in Kazakhstan, 159-60, 246-9; in Kyrgyzstan, 239-45; in Pashto, 74, 269-80; in Tajikistan, 232-7, 250-1 Thailand: alphabet and literacy rates in, 98 Thomason, James, 306 time factors: diglossia model distribution and, 17-8 tojiki: linguistic nationalism and terminology of, 105-9; national identity associated with, 100-1; Soviet renaming of Persian as, 97-9, 109; Western attitudes toward, 101-4 tojiki (Persian), 9 top-down language policies, 27 Torwayana, Najibullah, 37 Transoxiana (early state), 6 Trazi, Mahmud, 34-5 Treaty of Golestan, 110 Treaty of Turkmanchay, 110 tribal culture: Pashto language in Afghanistan and, 32, 81-4; Pashtun identity with, 55-63 Trudgill, Peter, 21

index Turkestan: establishment of, 178-80 Turkestanian reform movement, 181 Turkic cultures: Persian language and, 10 Turkic languages, 125-6; evolution of, 12-3; Karakalpak language as, 191-4; Latinization of, 181-2; regional expansion of, 95-6, 109; Soviet standardization of, 178-80; Uzbek language and, 180-2 Turkish: as language of literacy, 10-1; “Ottoman” Turkish, 92 Turkmani: as national Afghan language, 43-6; in Uzbekistan, 198-9 Turkmenistan: border politics in, 213-4; education and mass media language policy in, 226-30; post-Soviet education and media in, 226-30; Uzbek language in, 219n.8, 222-3, 226-30, 254-6; Western imperialism and, 6 Turk tili/Turki language terminology, 178-80 Twelver Shi’ite Islamic ideology, 108-9 Uighur language, 179 Ukrainians: in Kazakhstan, 132 Umar, Hazrat, 275 Umar, Mullah, 49 UNESCO: Pashto literacy campaign and, 41 Urdu: in Afghanistan, 100; Balochi language and, 320-2; British imposition of, in India and Pakistan, 92, 103, 109, 115-6, 266, 282-315; in early Punjab culture, 289-90; emergence of, 11; as mother-tongue, 17; in Pakistan, 13, 63-5, 100, 267, 271-2, 275, 279-80; Pashto’s coexistence in Pakistan with, 60-3, 73, 883-4; Persian links to, 308-12; standard-with-dialects system and, 17; vernacularization and, 282-3, 301-12 USAID funds: Pashto textbooks produced with, 280 users: linguistic registers and role of, 23-4 Usman, Hazrat, 274 Uzbek culture: in Kazakhstan, 132, 247-9, 253-4; in Kyrgyzstan, 251-3; resistance to Pashto in, 37, 82 Uzbekistan: decline of Russian language proficiency in, 196-8; foreign language proficiency in, 200-1; Karakalpak

371

language in, 191-4; language policy and development in, 12-3, 176-205; minority languages in, 198-200; postSoviet changing language attitudes in, 189-91; Russian language in, 189-91, 194-8; Western imperialism and, 6 Uzbek Khanates, 7; Persian language and, 10-1 Uzbek language: in Afghanistan, 33; Central Asian politics and development and, 256-7; in Central Asian republics, 208-57; Central Asian republics’ education and media and, 225-30; current and future research issues, 355-7; expansion in Uzbekistan of, 194-8; future trends in, 204-5, 249-56; in Kazakhstan, 245-9, 253-4; in Kyrgyzstan, 237-45, 251-3; literary Uzbek, formation of, 180-2; as national Afghan language, 43-6; orthographic reforms, 218-9; Pashto and and Persian and, 12; policy and reform in Uszbekistan concerning, 176-205; russification of, 182-5; Soviet standardization of, 127n.24, 17880, 199-200, 218; as state language, national independence ideology and, 185-9; in Tajikistan, 89, 99-100, 109, 230-7, 249-51; technology development and, 221-2; terminology regarding, 222-4; in Turkmenistan, 226-30, 254-6 Uzbek National Cultural Center (UNCC), 240 vernacularization: Pashto’s status and, 60n.13, 75-6; Persian language and, 91-4, 115-6; in Urdu and Punjabi, 282-315 vocabulary reform: linguistic register and, 21-4; in Uzbekistan, 189-91, 200 weak languages: Fishman’s characterization of, 123 Weekly Worker, The (newspaper), 44 Weish Zalmian (Awakened Youth) manifesto, 38-9, 44 Western hegemony: Persian status within, 102-9, 112 Western imperialism: Afghan language development and, 5-9; ethno-politics in Afghanistan and, 10-2; Persian language status and, 91, 107-12

372

index

West Pakistan: Balochistan history and, 323 White Revolution of 1963 (Iran), 111 women: role in Pashto literacy of, 74-84 workplace: reverse language shift in Kazakhstan and, 139, 157-8 “X-ish” language policies: in Central Asia, 215-6

Yasmin, Nighat, 273 Yuan dynasty (China): Persian language and, 10, 90 Yusuf, Muhammad, 39-41 Zahir Shah, 36-7, 38-9, 43, 50 Zhorgenbayev, M. A., 158