Language

"And really it was like watching a flock of cattle to see the long column, a mile or two miles of armed men, flowing peacefully up the road, while the great white birds drifted over them in the opposite direction, glittering like scarps of paper." This quote from Orwell’s Maracache describes the black Senegalese soldiers who fought for the British. The British have always used the English language as an effective tool to suppress the colonized country. We can see it through Orwell’s story where he depicts the silenced soldiers fighting a battle for a purpose that is unknown to them. This is a very dynamic scene because Orwell contrasts the upward moving soldiers with the smooth sailing white doves that fly to liberty. This situation is also a potentially explosive one in that the armed soldiers could simply rebel if one of them spoke out loud and used the weapons against the British, but instead they carry their weapon load and march on endlessly. This silencing is how Orwell’s essay ends, and colonialism begins.

One of the ways the British suppressed the Indians was through the English language. With the Charters Act of 1813 English literature made its way into India. Although the purpose of this act was to renew the East India Company’s charter for commercial operation in India, it lead to two major changes in Britain’s role with regards to the Indians. The first one was Britain’s assumption of a new responsibility towards education. The second was the degree of control over missionary work in India. Although the missionary work seemed harmless it was the first step in suppressing the Indians. This process is illustrated in the novella, Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe. In the following passage Chinua Achebe speaks of a white man. "How can he when he does not even speak our tongue?. . . He came quietly and peaceably with his religion. We were amused at his foolishness and allowed him to stay. Now he has won our brothers, and our clan no longer act like one. He has put a knife on things that held us together and we have fallen apart. . . Even when the men were left alone they found no words to speak to one another." Here Chinua Achebe describes in a detailed scale how the British managed to take over. The British missionaries initially came in peace with their religion and then he converted some of the natives. This weakened the natives because it brought disunity. Eventually the entire village system fell apart and before the Indians knew it, the British were in control.

After the missionaries were allowed to spread their religion, the British slowly managed to incorporate books that showed the people that the Englishmen as superior. The thinking behind this was that if the Indians could not be held down using power then they could be held down morally and intellectually. Soon the Indians began to believe that the English were intellectually superior, wiser, just and humane. This idea is reflected in George Orwell’s essay Shooting an Elephant, "For it is the condition of his rule that he shall spend his life trying to impress the ‘natives’ and so in every crisis he has got to do what the ‘natives’ expect of him. He wears a mask, and his face grows to fit it." Here we see how the British themselves put on a mask of deception that the colonized people readily accepted. They managed to convince the Indians that they were trying to improve their condition and that they knew what was best for their well being.

The next step the Englishmen took was to spread their influence through their language. The English began with a few people and then spread their language to the rest of the population through the English Education Act of 1835 which officially required the natives of India to study the English language. The English text took slowly replaced the Englishmen, and brainwashed the Indians into believing that the English were good.

--Personal Experiences—

The day had finally come and it was time to go back to school. The monsoon’s were over and the sun dripped through the clouds. The night before I ironed my forest green pinafore and cream blouse. I polished my black buckled shoes and put it besides my bed. It was the beginning of Seventh grade and I was late again. I heard the bell ring as I drank my last sip of milk handed it to my mommy and ran down the road through the gates for formation.

After formation we entered the auditorium where all the new teachers were presented. We sang the national anthem sat down and let the principle introduce the teachers to us. Each one said a couple of words to us and then sat down. Mr.Davis one of the teachers up there was going to be our class teacher. He introduced himself saying, "I’m from England and my name is Mr.Davis. I am going to teach English and be the seventh grade section ‘A’ class teacher. I hope that I can teach you about England and play soccer and badminton with you. I hope to have a fun year and teach you’ll a lot of new things you don’t know."

Mr. Davis seemed so intriguing to us. We all wanted to be in his class and see what he had to offer us. We wanted to learn about Britain and the way they did thing there. Mr. Davis taught us about all the holidays like Valentines day, Christmas and the various other celebrations and dances. I was intrigued with this and told the villagers from other schools about these things. He would talk to us about the children there and what they would do in their free time. "Children in Britian watch T.V. play soccer and badminton or just shop."

In our free time we played out in the street. We drew lines with white chalk on the cracked tarred roads and played hopscotch. We played hide and seek with the town as our boundaries. We’d chase each other around town playing catch and other games we made up. The television only broadcasted the during prime-time hours and it wasn’t very interesting to us. As for badminton and soccer we didn’t have the equipment and found other things to play with like marbles or tin cans. This all changed though after Mr. Davis came.

His English classes was unlike any other English class I had ever seen before. We did not really study grammar we just read books like Robinson Cruso and the abbreviated version of Little Women. Usually when we read books they had to do with Gandhi or Nehru or some great Indian leader. Mr. Davis introduced us to the other side, the British novels. They were very captivating because it described places I had never seen. The fact that the British lifestyle was so foreign and new made me feel like my ways were backward.

When Mr. Davis announced that he was going to teach us to play soccer and badminton I was the first to sign-up. He bought us rackets and every evening after school I would play badminton instead of running up and down the street with the other village children. After that Mr.Davis taught us how to play soccer and all the rules that went with it. We didn’t usually have these many rules in any of our games and this seemed so much more organized.

Time went by and the Ganapathi festival was upon us. All the villagers decorated their pooja box and worshipped Ganesh. It was an ongoing festival and there was music played all day though the loudspeakers in the temple. Every evening the villagers dressed up and went to temple to worship. "This is like going to church except we don’t burn smoke in front of our gods and perform dances." To us it was like going to temple and worshipping.

The festival lasted for three days and at the end of the third day we took the Ganesh and chanted three times. On the count of three the villages threw the Ganesh into the river. "Why do you’ll throw the God into the river. If he is God then you should respect him and not throw him into the river." For a while I though about that and felt stupid. It made sense to me. Why were we throwing the God into the river? When the evening came and the sun was about to set we all stood by the banks of the Krishna river. As the villagers threw the gods one by one I felt idiotic. This was usually the best part of the festival. It was the part where my heart raced with the chanting and where I felt the all of nature beauty and serenity as the sun dissolved into the mountains. It was a part where I felt one with everything. This year it was different and when everything was done simply walked back home.

At night when I went over to my friends house to play I asked my neighbor why we threw the Ganesh into the river if he was God. "You see the Ganesh belongs in the sea. He comes to us for three day and we celebrate and worship him. After three day we take him back to where he belongs. Also the Ganesh calms the waters and brings us rain. He help the sailors and the farmers." From that point I realized that there was something very unique about the Hindu culture. It was full of mysticism and symbolism. It was better than simply going to church every Sunday morning with mommy and listening to a preacher preach for an hour. This was part of me, part of the other childrens lives and part of our town and no stranger, no matter how educated and modern cannot possibly understand the intricacies that go with a particular event.