[sacw] SACW #2 | 4 Feb. 02

Harsh Kapoor aiindex@mnet.fr
Mon, 4 Feb 2002 02:22:59 +0100


South Asia Citizens Wire - Dispatch #2 | 4 February 2002

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#1. Echoes of McCarthyism: the fate of the Indian intellectual
#2. India: It's going to be more mythology than history (Irfan Habib)
#3. Pakistan / India: Moment of Parting (Dipankar Gupta)
#4. Notes upon my return to the Diaspora (Sharmila Sen)

________________________

#1.

Tehelka.com
3 February 2002

Echoes of McCarthyism: the fate of the Indian intellectual

The liberal intellectual in India is
under siege but, surprisingly, there
is neither protest nor debate about the
situation, says Parsa Venkateshwar Rao Jr
New Delhi, February 2

Not many remember the terrors of McCarthyism. It seems to have=20
happened so long ago that even its memory has faded. But the ominous=20
air of McCarthyism is has begun to pervade India today, a result=20
mainly of the messianic majoritarian rhetoric of the ruling Bharatiya=20
Janata Party (BJP), especially in matters pertaining to ideas and=20
intellectual freedom. There are the ill-boded overtones of=20
intellectual intolerance, perhaps even a sneaking detestation of=20
intellectuals and ideas, largely because intellectuals in this=20
country are identified with Marxism.

That is why we find Human Resources Development Minister Murli=20
Manohar Joshi, despite his familiarity with theories of quantum=20
mechanics, shows that his ideological blinkers make it difficult for=20
him to distinguish between Marxists and liberals, secularists and=20
communists. Joshi actually branded the noted historian of ancient=20
India, Romila Thapar, as a "Marxist" and a "Leftist" when all she is=20
is a liberal.

In a sense, the liberal intellectual in India is under siege but,=20
surprisingly, there is neither protest nor debate about the=20
situation. The apathetic Indian intellectual class refuses to stand=20
up and be counted. There are some soft murmurs of protest about=20
lumpens in the ruling class calling the shots today, but nothing=20
louder and more denunciatory.

It is for this reason that Richard Hofstadter's Anti-Intellectualism=20
in American Life, which was written in 1962 and won him the 1964=20
Pulitzer Prize in non-fiction, appears, in many ways, to echo=20
eloquently the Indian situation today. Joseph McCarthy, the=20
Republican senator from Wisconsin, has a close resemblance to Shiv=20
Sena chief Bal Thackeray. Unlike Thackeray, however, whose petty=20
tyranny is confined to Mumbai and some parts of Maharashtra, McCarthy=20
had unleashed a reign of terror right across the United States in the=20
late 1940s and early 1950s: in his estimation, every thinking person=20
was a communist suspect. It was a bias that was frighteningly similar=20
to the anti-humanist genocidal urges of the Pol Pot regime years=20
later: the only thing missing were the killing fields, the physical=20
decimation of intellectuals. But McCarthy did something equally evil=20
- he killed the minds of intellectuals where they stood. If enough=20
care isn't taken, it won't be long before the Rightwingers raging=20
against "modern" culture single out the few gutsy intellectuals there=20
are in India today.

Hofstadter, writing after the terror had died and had been overcome,=20
analyses with clarity the ramifications of McCarthyism, and its roots=20
in American history and society. Hofstadter notes that at the time of=20
writing the book, the intellectual was back to a position of=20
prominence that he or she had enjoyed during the 20 years of Franklin=20
Delano Roosevelt's presidency, thanks to the Soviet Union putting the=20
Sputnik in space in 1957. Americans had suddenly realised that they=20
could compete with their ideological rival only through the rigorous=20
play of intellect.

Hofstadter raises the all-important question of whether a democratic=20
society such as that of the US, with its evangelical roots and=20
egalitarian mores, was inherently anti-intellectual, as suspected by=20
European observers like Alexis de Tocqueville in his classic study of=20
1835, Democracy in America. Hofstadter looks beyond McCarthyism and=20
tries to identify basic notions that a majority of people entertain=20
about intellectuals.

He makes the perceptive distinction that people who are avowedly=20
anti-intellectual are not necessarily against learning and knowledge,=20
and that they lay much premium on "intelligence". The general feeling=20
is that intellectuals are idle fellows who argue incessantly, oppose=20
things for the sake of opposition, and that there is no utilitarian=20
value for their knowledge.

Hofstadter also notes that Americans resented two kinds of=20
intellectuals - the expert and the ideologue. The target of=20
McCarthyists was the intellectual as ideologue, the person with=20
ostensibly socialist sympathies. Hofstadter says that "Left"=20
intellectuals" did contribute to the image. He writes: "One=20
remembers, for example, with pain and difficulty, that in August=20
1939, on the eve of the Nazi Soviet pact, some four hundred liberal=20
intellectuals appended their signature to a manifesto denouncing the=20
'fantastic falsehood' that the USSR and the totalitarian states are=20
basically alike," and describing the Soviet Union as a 'bulwark' of=20
peace=8AIntellectuals thus caught out were not in the best historical,=20
moral, or psychological position to make a vigorous response to=20
McCarthyism." There is much in this observation for the Indian=20
liberal intellectuals to think over.

In a chapter with the teasing title, "Business and Intellect", he=20
takes note of a sharp criticism that the businessman in the American=20
novel did not get his due, and that he was always portrayed as in=20
negative colours, and explains, "Our society has no unitary elite in=20
which writers and businessmen associate on easy terms, and if real=20
live businessmen fail to appear in the American novel, it is partly=20
because the American writer rarely appears in the society of=20
businessmen: chances for close observation are minimal."

He shows that the relationship between the intellectual and the=20
business class was not always adversarial. Both Mark Twain and Walt=20
Whitman sang praises of the Patent Office as a symbol of progress and=20
significance. Hofstadter cites a passage from Twain's A Connecticut=20
Yankee in King Arthur's Court: "The very first thing that I (the=20
Connecticut Yankee) did in my administration - and it was on the very=20
first day of it - was to start a patent office, for I knew that a=20
country without a patent office and good patent laws was just a crab,=20
and couldn't travel any way but sideways or backways."

Hofstadter recognizes that the intellectual in any society is a=20
troublesome figure, and underscores the idea that that indeed is the=20
business of the intellectual. This does not mean that the=20
intellectual should always remain an alienated outsider. Citing a=20
1952 seminar of the Partisan Review (which he describes as the "house=20
organ" of the intellectual community in America), with the evocative=20
title "Our Country and Our Culture", he shows that the majority of=20
the American intellectuals did not feel as outsiders. The conclusion=20
of the seminar was: "American intellectuals now regard America and=20
its institutions in a new way=8AFor better or worse, most writers no=20
longer accept alienation as the artist's fate in America; on the=20
contrary, they want very much to be a part of American life."

The Rightwing onslaught need not wilt the intellectual class if the=20
intellectuals show enough vigour and diversity. Unfortunately, the=20
Indian intellectuals are mostly tepid and unicellular. There are not=20
many of them who know how to assess the strengths and weaknesses of=20
Indian society in a language that connects with the people. What is=20
needed is a multiplicity of views and a continuous and vigorous=20
debate about the most basic issues at all times. A democracy needs=20
intellectual debate, not just intellectuals who want to talk among=20
themselves, and that too only with those with the same ideological=20
affiliations.

_____

#2.

The Times of India
SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 03, 2002
THE TIMES OF INDIA
COMMENT

It's going to be more mythology than history
GUEST COLUMN / IRFAN HABIB
[ SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 02, 2002 10:47:11 PM ]
If the syllabus had remained as it was, NCERT's history textbooks=20
could have continued as they were. But two years back, the exercise=20
for change began on the pretext that the entire school syllabus=20
needed a change.
It was never explained why this was necessary. Given this, both the=20
motive for change and the nature of change becomes clear. The=20
explanation for a totally new syllabus was that there was unnecessary=20
emphasis on history.
It had too much detail and very little on religious matters - equated=20
to human values. But these arguments are questionable.
First, the amount of history being taught in schools is by no means=20
excessive. For years there were no objections to it. The new syllabus=20
will make the subject more parochial.
They have said specifically that world history would be reduced and=20
India's contributions to the world would be emphasised.
The fact is, the history being taught in Class IX and X is what=20
history teachers world over have been insisting students at that=20
level should know.
The new books will see the subject broken up into incidents. Hence,=20
one will never know whether ancient, mediaeval or modern is receiving=20
proper treatment. About Modern India, they have said the freedom=20
movement would be emphasised.
Freedom movement to them does not mean the movement per se but the=20
lives of national leaders and social workers. Now where do social=20
workers fit in?
Their objection to the presentation is not that it is underdone but=20
they say it gives a wrong picture. That is, the political and the=20
social reform aspect of the movement, figures like Gandhi and Nehru,=20
tendencies like socialism have all been given their proper place. Now=20
they want their own non-freedom fighters to be included.
Also, they want to introduce religious values in history. Under the=20
Constitution, religious instruction cannot be provided by any school=20
maintained by the government or be made compulsory in any school=20
aided by the government.
In total violation, they are calling it instruction in religion=20
rather than religious instruction. The assumption that human values=20
are equal to religious values is absurd.
Of course, behind this move is not any interest in religion but the=20
Hindutva agenda as interpreted by the RSS.
Their objection to beef-eating habits of Indians during the Vedic=20
period, etc. is because they want to run down textbooks which are=20
excellent. For example, what is their objection to Arjun Dev's world=20
history? Nothing. The book refers to various civilisations.
If India has to take its place in the world, shouldn't our children=20
learn about other countries? They want history to be taught like a=20
fairy tale, which can be unlearnt at the university level. But that=20
goes against the basic concept of education.
The university builds on what you have already learnt in school.=20
School children should come to grips with the fact that religious=20
views have changed with time.
For example, if you don't teach Darwin's theory of evolution to a=20
Christian student just because he believes Adam and Eve were the=20
first human beings on earth, is that justified?
The new textbooks will teach more mythology than history.=20
Unfortunately, it is not even the classical Indian mythology but the=20
mythology invented in the last 40 years.
The fact that social sciences will be only one textbook with sections=20
on history, geography and civics means that these subjects would be=20
diluted and distorted.
Stories and incidents would take precedence over a consistent body of=20
knowledge. Of course, your mindset does affect what you write. But=20
what Rajput and others are arguing - that you can write history in=20
any fashion you want - is incorrect.
As far as historical facts are concerned, there can be only one=20
statement, interpretation comes in selection. But these RSS types are=20
inventing facts.
(Historian Irfan Habib spoke to Sujata Dutta Sachdeva)

_______

#3.

The Telegraph
4 February 2002

MOMENT OF PARTING=20

BY DIPANKAR GUPTA

Most historical events have heroes and villains - perhaps more=20
villains than we actually care to record. The Partition, for most=20
Indians, has no heroes, whereas for Pakistan it is heroism itself.=20
>From the Indian perspective the Partition story is one where vicious=20
sectarians and communalists prevailed over soft, weak-kneed=20
secularists. Naturally, the Partition, from the Indian side, is=20
largely about victims who came in the way of political manipulations=20
and lost their lives, or property, or both. This is not the way the=20
Partition is viewed across the border.

For most Pakistanis, Partition is a moment of triumph, of a submerged=20
but virile logic that eventually thrust itself into the open and=20
breathed life into the nation of Muslims. Mohammad Ali Jinnah is=20
obviously the supreme hero, but so are a host of other Muslims who=20
from 1857 onwards were working resolutely for the Partition.=20
According to Pakistani history books, Muslims in pre-Partition India=20
kept alive their culture and their distinctiveness in spite of being=20
surrounded by conspiring and crafty Hindus, waiting, perhaps=20
unconsciously, for deliverance day. This argument is strongly, and=20
convincingly, put forward by Krishna Kumar in his latest work, The=20
Past and Prejudice.

Against this background, is there any point at all in trying to write=20
a perfect history, or in attempting to set the record right about the=20
Partition? Would it not be much better for the collective fates of=20
both countries to forget the Partition and move on? Of course, there=20
are sectarians of all description, on both sides of the border, who=20
would not like this to happen. The Partition for them is an important=20
ideological plank without which their existence is at stake.

In this connection it is interesting that in north India there are=20
two quite contrasting visions of Partition, though, unfortunately,=20
only one of these has received prominence. There are those who do not=20
want those blood-soaked memories to die, and then there are others=20
for whom the events of 1947 are dead, gone and over with.

It is true that most urban refugees remember the Partition quite=20
vividly even today. A small number of them even commemorate the day=20
they left their homes in west Punjab to come to India at very great=20
risk to their lives. Similar stories exist in Pakistan as well among=20
those Muslims who left Uttar Pradesh and Bihar to make the long trek=20
in finding a new home. In India, parties like the Bharatiya Janata=20
Party and the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh assiduously cultivate these=20
memories for political advantage. Many Arya Samaji organizations are=20
also quite active in this regard, particularly in Delhi, Haryana and=20
Punjab.

On the other hand, for a large number of rural Sikh post-Partition=20
migrants, the Partition does not evoke such strong memories. Any=20
researcher on this subject will find it infinitely more difficult to=20
rekindle Partition memories among the Sikh diaspora than it will be=20
for their urban (and largely Hindu) counterparts. The Sikh rural=20
migrants are strangely amnesiac about those fateful days. They too=20
lost property and family and yet, in the main, they are willing to=20
put all that behind them and move into the present and future=20
relatively unencumbered by their past. Why should their reactions be=20
so different?

If Hindu refugees remember and the Sikhs do not, at least not with=20
the same degree of vivacity, it is not so much because Hindu and Sikh=20
cultures are dissimilar, as it is with the different resettlement=20
projects that were in effect with respect to urban and rural=20
migrants. It is also worth keeping in mind that in contrast to Hindu=20
parties, there is not a single Sikh political formation in the Punjab=20
that harps on Partition memories. This does not mean that Sikhs are=20
less committed to Indian territory, and this can be assessed by the=20
number of Sikhs who have died in the many wars with Pakistan. But the=20
Partition is not such a live factor for most of them, and certainly=20
offers very little political mileage to Sikh sectarians.

Even among Hindus who remember the Partition it is important to=20
distinguish between those for whom these memories are inextricably=20
linked to their political and social lives and those for whom=20
Partition memories can be compartmentalized. It is not that the=20
raging anger against Muslims which most Hindu refugees brought with=20
them from across the border translated neatly into political votes=20
for Hindu parties like the Bharatiya Jana Sangh. It was not as if the=20
Partition converted all refugees into professional Hindus.

Some of the leading lights in the Congress in those days, several of=20
whom are still around, were also Hindu refugees from Pakistan. Take=20
the situation in Delhi for instance. The population of the capital=20
doubled and quadrupled so rapidly that it was difficult to find=20
adequate shelter for the thousands that teemed into this city. In=20
addition, Delhi was witness to riots and this shook the calm=20
equanimity of long time Delhi residents. Karol Bagh changed character=20
altogether from being a respectable middle-class Muslim residential=20
area to the bustling and quintessentially Punjabi one that it is=20
today. Left trade union leaders were shocked that so many of their=20
partisans were voicing communalist sentiments.

In this situation, the Congress could have easily pandered to=20
sectarian sentiments but it refused to do so. Under the leadership of=20
Jawaharlal Nehru it set out ambitious programmes that would help=20
people forget the Partition, or at least, make the Partition=20
irrelevant to their political and economic lives. Who settled the=20
refugees from Bengali Market, to Nizamuddin, to Mehrauli? The=20
Congress. Who found jobs for refugees in the expanding public sector?=20
The Congress. Who promised an economic future that would be modern=20
and remunerative? The Congress. On none of these issues was the=20
Partition even remotely relevant. Finally, which party won elections=20
after elections from 1952 to 1967 in Delhi? None other than the=20
Congress.

The Congress had a forward looking programme for the future. It=20
thought of land reforms, of the Bhakra Nangal dam, of the Bokaro=20
Steel factory, and of unleashing thousands of trained engineers and=20
professionals into the burgeoning productive sectors of the country.=20
The Hindu parties had only Partition memories to flog and bank upon.=20
Therefore, while many Hindus may have felt a profound sense of=20
resentment against Muslims, may have been unsettled by Nehru's=20
championing of the Hindu code bill, yet when it came to voting it was=20
always the Congress that won for twenty long years after the=20
Partition.

If Partition memories are being profitably employed today it is not=20
because these memories have an undeniable sway over our minds, but=20
rather because we have no ambitious, far-sighted programmes for the=20
future. Under these circumstances it is natural to look back and=20
derive ideological succour from the past. No secular force can ever=20
hope to draw any encouragement from giving in to this urge, for in=20
the game of recall sectarians can never be outdone. Therefore,=20
instead of combating Partition memories of villains with those of=20
heroes and victims, let us think of policies that would make the=20
unseemly affair of 1947 difficult to recall.

The author is professor, Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi

______

#4.

Womens Review of Books
February 2002

Foreign accents
Notes upon my return to the Diaspora

By Sharmila Sen

THE UNITED STATES' VERSION of postcolonial studies is particularly=20
focused on questions of diaspora, migration, exile and displacement.=20
These are, no doubt, important issues to address in a classroom in=20
this country. Yet we also need to be careful that we do not empty the=20
postcolony completely. We should not privilege the questions of the=20
diasporic as the only questions to be asked of postcolonial=20
literatures. We also have to work against uncomplicated celebrations=20
of the diaspora, and of the diasporic subject. Working in a country=20
where everyone is only too ready to grab at some sort of hyphenated=20
identity, it is important to remain attentive to the differences=20
within diasporas, or between overlapping diasporas.

In a different register, we need to move from the question, Is this=20
hybrid? to the question, How is this hybrid? Are all hybridities, to=20
put it bluntly, built equal? How useful is it to read Shani Mootoo,=20
Meera Syal, Jhumpa Lahiri and Anita Desai as all part of the South=20
Asian diaspora? The danger, as I see it in the classroom, is the=20
simultaneous stretching of the concept of diaspora (we are all=20
diasporic) and the proprietary, solipsistic reduction of it (we are=20
all in my kind of diaspora). Much as in border studies elsewhere in=20
the academy, the undergraduate classroom in the United States needs=20
to pay attention to the specificity of various diasporas and=20
diasporic writers in the US, while at the same time being careful not=20
to participate in the Americanization of diaspora studies itself.

I teach an introductory lecture course, "Postcolonial Narratives,"=20
that draws a wide spectrum of undergraduate and graduate students.=20
Some of them are in literary studies, but most of them are not. One=20
of the initial reasons many of these students enroll is that they=20
want to read something "from outside the canon." As Lauren Berlant=20
writes in a discussion of Deleuze and Guattari's "What is a Minor=20
Literature?", "We have all seen how dominated exotic microcultures=20
have produced what appears to be confectionery on which major=20
cultures have sought to suck, as the meat and potatoes of power left=20
them starved for something else, something other: more."(1) So what=20
drives them at first is the motivation, seemingly benign, to sample=20
the different, the exotic, the non-canonical, the non-white, the=20
non-western, the "more."

I often tell the students in this class about a festival organized by=20
the city of Toronto in the summer of 2000. Nighat Khan, a close=20
friend of mine, who is a well-known feminist activist in Pakistan,=20
told me this story. Nighat was a visiting faculty member at the=20
University of Toronto at the time. As part of this so-called=20
multicultural summer festival, the city had issued replicas of=20
passports. As you wandered from one stall to another, from one=20
immigrant/ethnic neighborhood to another, you collected stamps in=20
your false passport. Imagine eating samosas or curry goat or spring=20
rolls and getting stamps from India or Trinidad or Vietnam. Now,=20
imagine buying a trinket from a stall or watching a "folk dance" on=20
the street and collecting more such stamps on your false passport.=20
This summer festival was a peculiar late twentieth-century reprise of=20
the colonial expositions in Paris or London. The idea is that you,=20
resident of Toronto, can easily travel through the world, eating,=20
buying and looking, without ever leaving the comforts of Canada.=20
Meanwhile, many of the people working behind those counters--the=20
women, for instance, who are dancing Bharat Natyam on the street, or=20
cooking the curry goat, or selling "indigenous" crafts--probably have=20
a vastly different relationship to passports (real and fake), visas=20
and stamps from immigration officers. This story often becomes my=20
negative model: my course is resoundingly not a world tour from=20
comfortable classrooms in Harvard Yard.

I ALSO TEACH A COURSE on the Indian novel in English. I chose to use=20
"Indian" instead of "South Asian" because I did not want to make=20
superficial gestures toward inclusivity (remember that the term=20
"South Asian" has its provenance not in South Asia but in CIA=20
offices). We conclude the course with a couple of diasporic=20
novels--novels that are not only by diasporic writers but thematize=20
the diasporic narrative--David Dabydeen's The Counting House and=20
Mohsin Hamid's Moth Smoke.

Hamid's novel is set in Lahore, Pakistan. It is, on the one hand,=20
about the disintegration of one life, and on the other hand, about=20
the disintegration of friendships, families, empires, alliances. In=20
the class, I ask my students to consider the following question: Can=20
this be seen as a diasporic novel, a novel that thematizes diaspora=20
(scattering)? What are the usefulness and the problems of locating=20
Pakistan in the Indian diaspora? Historians such as Ayesha Jalal=20
would remind us that the Indian Congress represented the creation of=20
Pakistan in 1947 as secession from the Union of India. So, instead of=20
the midnight births of Pakistan and Hindustan on August 14-15, 1947,=20
the world saw the birth of Pakistan and India (India being the=20
imagined whole of which Pakistan is a part). To complicate the=20
situation further, we need to keep in mind that for millions the=20
creation of Pakistan was also the creation of a new Muslim homeland.=20
So, is it possible to be an Indian diasporic living in Pakistan when=20
your very homeland has been re-defined and shifted from one part of=20
the subcontinent to another?

In 1996, I was living in Lahore and working with a Pakistani NGO on a=20
project on Partition. Part of my work included analyzing oral=20
narratives of women who migrated to Pakistan from India during the=20
months following Partition. In the interviews, most of the women used=20
the same Urdu words--watan, mulk and qaum--to describe both their old=20
homes and their new homes. Of course, these oral histories would have=20
been even more complicated had we looked at women who had migrated=20
from India to East Pakistan, now Bangladesh. How have their=20
narratives of home changed in the past fifty years? The role of=20
women, as it became clear from those interviews, in establishing new=20
homes in the new "homeland" was crucial in the years following=20
Partition. These women, it cannot be forgotten, were often doubly=20
dislocated because while men traveled with their natal families,=20
women often had to forsake their natal families and migrate with=20
their husband's families.

The maternal side of my family has lived in Allahabad in northern=20
India for almost a century. They have lived in probash, in the=20
Bengali diaspora, while still within India. So, when I attend an=20
event organized by the local Bengali association in Boston, Prabasi=20
(the more Sanskritic spelling for probashi), which diaspora am I in?=20
Is this the same Bengali diaspora as the one to which my mother's=20
relatives might belong? Why is the Boston association largely a=20
Bengali Hindu group? Where have all the Muslims of the Bengali=20
probash gone? How does the line between West Bengal and Bangladesh=20
divide those in the global Bengali diaspora? One can, of course, ask=20
this question of the larger South Asian diaspora as well. What are=20
the faultlines between Indo-Caribbean or Afro-Asian or Indo-Fijian or=20
Non-Resident Indian (NRI) populations within the larger,=20
undifferentiated mass we call the South Asian diaspora? In the Indian=20
grocery store, Shalimar, in Central Square, Cambridge, I see us all,=20
Indians, Pakistanis, Bangladeshis, Sri Lankans, Nepalis, Guyanese,=20
Trinidadians and Americans, reaching for the same jars, boxes,=20
packets. Most of these products are imported from India or produced=20
in the US or the UK by first- or second-generation Indian-owned=20
companies. Do Indian tastes dominate the varied palates of the vast=20
South Asian diaspora?

The answer is a resounding yes if one visits Mattai's, the most=20
popular Indian grocery store in Georgetown, Guyana, a nation with=20
almost fifty percent East Indian population. Harry Mattai, the=20
proprietor, buys most of his prepared Indian foods, pickles, Basmati=20
rice and spice mixtures from India through wholesalers in New York,=20
London, or Toronto. When my husband and I visited his store in the=20
summer of 2001, he ruefully showed us a number of items sitting on=20
the shelves. While Harry had eagerly imported certain packaged foods=20
from India, he and his customers had no idea how to cook them.=20
Diasporic amnesia was competing with the equally powerful desire for=20
diasporic return.

Meanwhile, the old homeland, India, came in packages bearing labels=20
such as Patak's (a British brand) or Deep (an American brand). The=20
descendants of the nineteenth-century indentured laborers, part of=20
the South Asian diaspora in the Caribbean, are now developing a taste=20
(in food, music, clothing) for India as produced by the newest=20
arrivals from the old homeland in spaces such as Jackson Heights in=20
New York and Ilford in London. So we have multiple Indias (and=20
Pakistans, Bangladeshes, Sri Lankas, Nepals) grazing past each other,=20
living in solidarity, in strategic alliance, in mutual antagonism. In=20
the multiple diasporas of South Asia, we sometimes marry each other=20
(thanks to the online matrimonial sites multiplying rapidly on the=20
Internet every day), trade with each other, converse with each other,=20
watch Hindi movies with each other, worship with each other, and even=20
commodify each other.

A COUPLE OF YEARS AGO, I went to a show put together by the South=20
Asian students at Harvard called Ghungroo. It was a sold-out show. I=20
got front row tickets only because I was a faculty member and had=20
some of the performers in my classes. They had about five shows in=20
one weekend, each a two- to three-hour extravaganza. Each more=20
crowded than the next. The audience members, to my surprise, were not=20
only South Asian students and their families. There were students of=20
all racial and ethnic backgrounds crowding the two-level Agassiz=20
Theater at Harvard. Ghungroo itself featured the standard fare as far=20
as South Asian "cultural programs" on US campuses are concerned.=20
There was the requisite "classical" dance, a skit parodying=20
stereotypical South Asian foibles, a light classical vocal=20
performance, a sitar or tabla piece, dances based on latest Bollywood=20
hits, a raas (before intermission) and a bhangra (as the finale).

What caught my attention was the opening formulation. As the lights=20
dimmed in the Agassiz Theater and the curtain slowly parted, we were=20
treated to a beautiful voice-over introducing the evening's vision.=20
The voice caught me by surprise: an exquisite, poised, Karachi=20
Grammar School-trained female voice. Having met many Karachi Grammar=20
School graduates, I just cannot miss that accent, though I suppose it=20
could have been the voice of any of the top handful of the very elite=20
schools to which the richest South Asians send their children. BBC=20
English ever so delicately shot through with a South Asian accent.=20
The barest touch of the subcontinent coming through in the=20
unaspirated initial consonants. Why did the students, most of who are=20
second-generation South Asian Americans from places like Simsbury,=20
CT, or Louisville, KY, or Cherry Hill, NJ, choose that voice as their=20
introduction?

This was, of course, the least representative of their collective=20
voices. Yet, the voice was also representative of some of their=20
desires. It was the type of voice of South Asia that many of my=20
students, I suspect, would like to present to their friends and=20
classmates. It is neither the crude Indian English accent like that=20
of Apu from The Simpsons, nor the perfectly anodyne American accent=20
of the second-generation desi. The voice represents what the American=20
desi yearns for, is nostalgic for, would like to return to. The rub=20
is that, for most of them, that voice is hardly the voice of their=20
familial past.

Accents are important in understanding the cultural politics of the=20
American classroom. "I was struck by your American accent," a student=20
confessed to me two years ago. "Why?" I asked, "I have lived in the=20
United States since I was almost twelve years old. How else did you=20
expect me to speak?" How else do you expect someone who has been on=20
both sides of the Ghungroo curtain to speak? So, let me add to the=20
above story of Ghungroo: I was part of the small group of=20
undergraduate South Asian students at Harvard who founded Ghungroo a=20
little more than a decade ago. Ghungroo, we told ourselves, was the=20
name of the bells that classical Indian dancers wear on their ankles.=20
And, as those of us in the know smirked, it is the name of a disco in=20
the Maurya Sheraton in New Delhi, a posh hangout for the cell-phone=20
class in India's modern capital. Ghungroo worked on a number of=20
levels: the name invoked both the stereotypical figure of the female=20
classical dancer (for the multicultural delectation of the West) and=20
a space of Westernized privilege in a modern Indian metropolis.

Ten years ago, our first Ghungroo performance was in a gym with=20
homemade curtains and fewer than twenty people in the audience. My=20
students love to hear this story and it gives me the dubious thrill=20
of feeling like I am 31 going on 91. Yet, I sense, they are also a=20
little unsettled. I am a little too close to them (in terms of=20
immigration generation) to be teaching about South Asia. Do I know=20
what I am talking about?

What we have is a set of received ideas that make it okay for white=20
faculty (with any kind of Western accent) and first-generation South=20
Asian faculty (preferably with the posh, Anglicized accent) to=20
lecture on South Asia. Either one is of European descent and trained=20
in the academy as a South Asianist, or one is South Asian and teaches=20
from her lived, authentic experience. I am part of the first wave of=20
second-generation South Asian Americans (though sociologists would=20
label me generation 1.5) in the US academy. There will be many more=20
like me as the children of 1965 come of age. And we shall continue to=20
work alongside the first-generation South Asians in the years to=20
come. But we shall hardly come together in some sort of=20
uncomplicated, joyous, South Asian diaspora in the US academy. Not=20
there, not yet.

THE SECOND-GENERATION South Asian teacher in an American classroom,=20
then, must tread carefully, avoiding, even to the detriment of=20
student pleasure, the role of a surrogate authentic ancestor figure.=20
She must teach from her second-generation perspective while still=20
remaining careful not to Americanize everything that comes her way.=20
So, when a student from the Bronx hastily says that yes, of course,=20
she "gets" the girmitya experience in Trinidad, the teacher must be=20
the killjoy who, despite--or, perhaps because of--easy postcolonial=20
pieties, must make New York's Bronx and the Caroni fields of Trinidad=20
discontinuous. For now at least. And at the same time, the teacher=20
must work against the desire for absolute discontinuity, absolute=20
difference and absolute exoticism.

Speaking of diasporic women writers in particular, I like the work of=20
Meera Syal (even her British television series Goodness Gracious Me=20
can produce great lessons in a cultural studies course). I have made=20
my peace with Tsitsi Dangarembga's Nervous Conditions and find it a=20
pedagogically useful text. Shani Mootoo's Cereus Blooms at Night is=20
wonderful, as is Patricia Powell's The Pagoda and Michelle Cliff's No=20
Telephone to Heaven. Sara Suleri's Meatless Days is exquisite.=20
Suleri's book, somewhat incongruously, brings to mind the paradox of=20
Aim=E9 C=E9saire's Cahier d'un retour au pays natal. The return to the=20
native land, in C=E9saire's poetry and in Suleri's memoir, is=20
simultaneously a return to the diaspora.

There is politics in how you name a course, in what you put on the=20
syllabus, in what you do not, in which examples you use, in which=20
theorists and scholars you cite, in which links you make between=20
different texts, in which allusions you let fall by the wayside.=20
There is politics in resolutely teaching the postcolony in an English=20
department where the main contribution of postcolonial theory has=20
been, rather ironically, to usher in an era of imperial studies. But=20
the most politically useful and difficult task, the way I see it, is=20
to teach the students that the classes, the syllabi, the lectures=20
that do not overtly advertise their politics (or even claim they have=20
none) are always political as well.

(1) Lauren Berlant, "'68, or Something," Critical Inquiry 21 (Autumn 1994) =
135.

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