Colonial languages cannot speak for Africa

The comment in The Southern Times issue of June 12, 2005, titled, So Much to a Name After All, made quite some interesting reading. The comment in question highlighted that there is more in a name than meets the eye as shown by the manner in which Afrikaners had reacted to the proposed change of names, particularly that of Pretoria which until then, bore the name of an Afrikaner hero. Writing in an article titled Towards a Theory of Language Planning which featured in a book with the title, Can Language be Planned?, two linguistics scholars, B.H. Jernudd and J. Das Gupta in 1971 made a daring observation that language is a resource. One could add to this sentiment and say that language is actually a potent and strategic resource in development or lack thereof in any society or country.

If we accept this view as true, we also have to accept that, like all resources, language has to be planned. Language planning also implies the need for a language policy and this often involves the government as the key player in policy formulation and, indeed, policy implementation although individuals, institutions and non-governmental organisations can also play a part. That is why in South Africa, for instance, the apartheid policy was largely reflected on the general language policy. Institutionalised racial segregation — for that’s what apartheid meant — had as one of its guiding principles, the belief that language and ethnicity are linked to geographic territoriality. This was implemented as the so-called “Bantustan” policy, the Group Areas Act as well as the Bantu Education policies and caused profound fracturing of society into ethno-linguistic shards. It remains largely true in present-day South Africa that speakers of different languages are ethnically distinct from each other and should, therefore, maintain some separatist stance, manifesting especially in education.

Acursory look at the history of colonialism will reveal that one of the tools that colonialists used to subjugate indigenous people was the imposition of their languages through every available opportunity like the school and even the church. This was often supported by well-orchestrated legal instruments. Those who embraced the oppressors’ language(s) were perceived as enlightened, a myth that was soon to find its way even in the mind of the African people themselves. The imposition of language as a part of cultural hegemony demonstrated the most effective way to emasculate and, indeed, misappropriate a people of its identity and, eventually, its resources and economic well-being. In South Africa itself, there were several attempts to promulgate instruments that would enforce Afrikaans as the official language at the expense of local languages like Zulu and Xhosa. A case in point are the riots that rocked the country starting in Soweto on June 16, 1976 when thousands of black schoolchildren took to the streets to protest against the law that demanded they be taught some subjects through the medium of Afrikaans. The riots degenerated into bloodshed, with the police shooting several students, including Hector Petersen who became the first martyr of the revolt.

That is how serious the issue of language is; the same manner some children of Africa died fighting to regain their land which is their dignity from the oppressors, some counted their lives as nothing as long as they had lost their language! This is the broad framework from which African countries should learn how vital language is as a resource and should, therefore, make language policy and language planning a priority issue on their agenda. Thus, African governments that embarked on change of colonial names at independence deserve praise. There were notable efforts with regard to the change of names of cities, buildings, streets and such other public places to African names. Linguists and language lobbyists have, however, observed that the amendments that most African countries introduced at independence were cosmetic or piecemeal changes, arguing that what was required was a sustainable language policy. These, they say, would ensure a systematic transformation on the language terrain which would result in the promotion of local languages that had suffered at the hands of segregatory language policies.

Meeting for the first conference on African languages and literatures ever to be held in Africa in Asmara, Eritrea, from January 11 to 17, 2000, writers and scholars from all regions of Africa, for instance, put forward recommendations that would guarantee the promotion of African languages and literatures in what has come to be known as the Asmara Declaration. After the conference, which held under the theme “Against All Odds: African Languages and Literatures into the 21st Century”, they noted: “We examined the state of African languages in literature, scholarship, publishing, education, and administration in Africa and throughout the world. We celebrated the vitality of African languages and literatures and affirmed their potential. We noted with pride that despite all the odds against them, African languages as vehicles of communication and knowledge survive and have a written continuity of thousands of years. Colonialism created some of the most serious obstacles against African languages and literatures. We noted with concern the fact that these colonial obstacles still haunt independent Africa and continue to block the mind of the continent. We identified a profound incongruity in colonial languages speaking for the continent. At the start of a new century and millennium, Africa must firmly reject this incongruity and affirm a new beginning by returning to its languages and heritage.”

Observations by African scholars at Asmara make it imperative for African countries to not only formulate, but also implement sustainable language policies that would make certain the restoration of African people’s culture, while fading away colonial images that could be invoked by colonial names and other such colonial symbols. The demonstrations by white South Africans against the change of names should, as The Southern Times comment cited above rightly pointed out, be taken as a clear testimony of the strategic resource that language is. An end to all colonial names means an end to colonialism and its new forms — imperialism, neo-colonialism and the beginning of the real decolonisation of the mind that Ngugi wa Thiongo calls for in his epic works Moving the Centre and Decolonising the Mind.

The South African government — through the Geographic Names Council and the people of South Africa — should be congratulated for leading the way in the crusade and many other countries on the continent should take a leaf from their example. As the Council aptly pointed out, some names should just be rid of because they have “offensive linguistic corruption” and are “offensive because of (their) association”. One clearcut case is that of the capital city itself, Tshwane (pronounced “tsee-wah-nay”), a derivative from a number of African languages and means “we are one”. As noted in the comment by The Southern Times, its former name, Pretoria, was full of racial connotations as it was the name of an Afrikaner pioneer and immortalised hero, Andries Pretorius, who had an important part in Afrikaner history, not African history. By renaming the cities, they are rewriting the history of South Africa. As they say in Igbo, Nigeria, until lions have their historians, tales of hunting will always praise the hunter.

Facts on the renamed towns in South Africa Among the towns renamed were some named after leaders significant in Afrikaner history. Pietersburg, Louis Trichard, and Potgietersrust became, respectively, Polokwane, Makhoda, and Mokopane (the name of a king). Warmbaths changed to Bela-Bela, a Sesotho word for hot spring. Other changes include Musina (was Messina); Mhlambanyatsi (Buffelspruit) and Marapyane (Skilpadfontein). Several new municipal and megacity boundaries have been created. The City of Tshwane Metropolitan Municipality covers cities such as Pretoria, Centurion, Temba, and Hammanskraal. The Nelson Mandela Metropole covers the East London/Port Elizabeth area. The names of all South African airports were changed from politicians’names to simply the city or town they are located in. — Facts courtesy of africanhistory.about.com