Cultural Schizophrenia & Cultural Revival in Bangladesh: The Diffusion Story

by Sophia Barkat

Introduction

The story of the modern nation state is almost the same every where, as it would seem after reading The Colonizer’s Model of the World (1993) by J. B. Blaut. It is as though we were all first “traditional societies”, then we were colonized, and lastly we became independent. The Independent state is almost always a modern state--devoid of history and heading for the future. It endorses modernization theory and marches on some mad path towards economic growth. In this modern state the old ways are naturally shunned--and people develop a schizophrenic attitude towards their own culture. Modernization leads to simultaneous cultural erosion and demise.

The story of Bangladesh is the same. Except, Bangladesh went through one more step. First it was part of a free Hindustan, then of colonized India, then of the state of Pakistan created in 1947 and free of the “impure” Hindus (as Pakistan means “pure land”), and finally it was free of the Islamic state. The creation of Bangladesh in 1971 involved the splitting into two of another newly independent nation: Pakistan. Shedding its outer layers, it seemed Bangladesh wanted a new beginning and a new identity. It got one. Bangladesh became a secular modern state. This short paper examines the journey of Bangladesh, in particular tracing its relationship with the East and the West, drawing from personal accounts, also.

Running from the East

It comes as no surprise that education in Bangladesh skips any teaching of Hindustan, that an examination of British rule is absent, and nor is there much discussion on Pakistan. The modern state, after, is built upon the ideals of Max Weber (1978). It doesn’t see its identity in the past as much as it does in the future. History books in Bangladesh, naturally, are devoid of its own history.

In the average school book, the history of Bangladesh is very concisely limited to the history of its liberation from Pakistan and from British domination –mostly anything post-1947. Not only that, nowhere today in the supposedly rich curriculum of “Bengali Medium” schools—which mock “English Medium” schools for selling out-- is there mention of any other moment in time, beyond those few chapters dedicated to Mohenjo-Daro and Harappa and maybe the Mogul dynasty and a few martyrs of Bengal like Siraj-ud-daulah ¹. It’s as if India doesn’t exist.

The English Medium schools, which I attended, however, are not without guilt. These schools, increasingly popular amongst the elite, prepare children for Western universities—such as the University of London and the University of Cambridge which run external programs for high schools around the world –and follow strictly western curriculums, especially in History. History is thus almost always limited to World History, where the Allies are the “good guys”. Here, India appears to the average student in Bangladesh as a civilization that is rich in religions and emperors, indigo and tea, but yet mostly exotic, while Greek democracy and the French Revolution are more relatable concepts.

Bangladesh is, after all, a modern state. The evening-news telecast by the state-run television company, BTV, begins with passionate nationalistic songs that remember fallen soldiers of 1971. The nation is so pivoted to the War that it would be sacrilegious to suggest any other kind of identity or nationalism. Talk of a unified “Hindustan” would bode as poorly with people as talk of a unified Pakistan. But why this reaction towards a unified India? Are we that different?

Culturally, the Bangladeshi is quietly simply not the same as his or her West Bengali counterpart, who is most likely a Hindu. Even though there are 11% or more Hindus in Bangladesh, and the Constitution states that Bangladesh is secular, and even though secularism was a battle-cry for separation from Pakistan in 1971 and for the Language Movement against Urdu and in favor of Bangla in 1952, Hindus are still the marginal culture. They are known to be “India-bound” if lucky, and poor if not. The “Hindu” is not hated in Bangladesh, though he or she is culturally speaking simply forgotten.

And yet, Hindu culture defines Bangladeshi culture as much as does Islamic culture. A mosque may stand on every street, but our (Bangladeshi) clothes are Hindu. Our (Muslim) women wear dots on their forehead, though they do not draw the red vermillion line that married Hindu women would. Even now, our widows are expected to dress in white, irrespective of religion, and could not be seen in any other way. Our fathers wear lungis and kurtas –clothes that are anything but Hindustani. Our food is Hindustani, even if Muslim invaders from Central Asia brought with them what is today Muglai food. And, if all that seems trivial, our language, Bangla is derived from Sanskrit, not Arabic.

And yet, the pujas –Hindu religious celebrations--in Calcutta are far more colorful than in Old Dhaka, where Hindus mostly live. While two-storied statues of Durga and Kali appear in Old Dhaka’s puja processions to the Ganges, the celebration of Durga Puja in Calcutta is far more glamorous. The smell of dhuup abounds —a kind of incense used during Hindu ceremonies-- everywhere one goes in Calcutta, and is not the strange and different thing one notices when one visits a Hindu friend in Dhaka. The Hindu and their “Indian” culture are thus foreign to the Bangladeshi who is predominantly Muslim. It is not just the fault of the state that this is so, but also the fault of numbers and of a history we choose not to acknowledge. In surprising contrast, we have no problem inviting in other cultures: especially from the West.

Running to the West

Though Bengal was the state that gave the most trouble to the British, as some enthusiasts of the Battle of Plassey would like to claim ², Bangladeshis have welcomed British and the greater western culture with open arms, while snubbing their own greater Hindustani identity. The Science Building of the University of Dhaka, or Curzon Hall, named after Lord Curzon, the Viceroy of India ³ still stands proud and erect, the name unchanged. The High Court, built by the British in 1861, is also still the venue for the Supreme Court of Bangladesh ⁴ and Bangladesh’s legal system is, if anything, a copy of the British system left behind. A tall Victoria Memorial still commemorates the reign of Queen Victoria in Luxmibazaar, Dhaka—a part of the Old Town area--though it is also the site where many a Bengali sipoy was hung for rebelling against the Queen. And though a few grandmothers occasionally mouth limericks that taunt the British, England is seen by today’s generation of Bangladeshi’s as part of the desired “West”. Great Britain, in fact, was the first nation to which educated Bangladeshis mostly migrated. The trend towards other nations in the West later followed.

But what led to the historical amnesia? And why are we chasing the west? The indoctrination began with the English Medium schools, established in the 1800s to make sure the Bengali elites could send their children to better schools than the traditional paat’shalas—schools--where the child would learn to become someone in the British civil service. As the British left in the 1940s, American seminaries took their places in Dhaka’s various locals. The St. Josephs and St. Gregorys of Old Dhaka, of which Nobel Laureate Amartya Sen is an alumni ⁵, created batches of “modern” Bangladeshis who would later hold high positions in various levels of government, business, law and education. It would not be incorrect to say that such students looked down on their own culture –perhaps not Sen--which was simply not valued in the circles they were being groomed for. My father, who attended St. Gregory’s also, can barely speak fluent Bangla, let alone write. My own acculturation led to me chasing a degree from the U.S. There’s little hope I am returning as a Bengali, if at all.

The statistics on brain drain in Bangladesh suggests that the education and acculturation worked. So does the way our nation has bent to the will of the World Bank, IMF and the WTO. That a certain class of Bangladeshis constituting the “foreign aid industry” are getting rich, my family included, at the expense of hardworking poor suggests that diffusion maybe here to stay. It is not uncommon today to denounce one’s village roots, one’s ancestral homes. Bangaal, once used as a swear word by the British to taunt the rebellious Bengalis is now used by the Bengali elite as the favored word to describe the “backward, traditional, irrational, rustic,” just as the words for “rustic” and “farmer” in Bangla, chasha and geyo, might be used to imply the same. What hope then can be left for Bangladesh?

Cultural Revival?

An unlikely ray of hope comes from a rather unusual marriage. A musical revolution is in the works in Bangladesh. Music has always been rich in Bangladesh. We have managed to retain music of all genres, folk to pop, despite our modernization path. Traditional folks songs such as the Bhawaiya, Bhatiyali or Baul, filled with rich verses, have managed to captivate the hearts of Bangladeshis for generations, and now it seems a new trend is making Bangla folk music even more popular.

Artists such as Fuad al Muqtadir and Habibul Wahid represent a new trend in Bangla pop music. With their melodious voices and techno music mixes, they bring to the forefront the rich traditional wisdom of folk songs that instill a new fervor of love for the land and the Bengali culture. Where in the ‘80s or ‘90s it would be very unusual for a young Bangladeshi living in Dhaka to enjoy Bangla folk music, today it is the norm. The wave of revivalism in folk music is an interesting phenomenon as it constitutes a marriage between East and West, and would not be possible without electronic djs or the ways of the old.

Of the two artists, Fuad al Muqtadir works mostly with young artists, introducing young Bangladeshis to the culturally diverse Bengali heritage. In his collection, it is not unusual to find songs dedicated to the love story of the Hindu deities, Radha and Krishna, nor to hear an old Nazrul Geeti – songs written by Kazi Nazrul Islam, and yet the music is very modern and popular as well as beautiful. In contrast, Habibul Wahid’s music represents a new kind of consciousness about the need for protecting the land and the people who work on it: a new environmentalism. Samples of their music can be found at http://www.banglamusic.com/music. While the lyrics are lost in translation and cannot be understood by non-Bangla speakers, the music is still haunting, and has the ability to draw listeners in on its own.

Conclusion

While there is nothing wrong with learning new ideas, it is dangerous to forget what ideas one already has, and to look down on these ideas is worse. It is to lose one’s identity and to become colonized, as Blaut (1993) explained in his book. The musical revival in Bangladesh is new and the forces against it are many. But if it survives, it may well provide a very easy and beautiful solution to counter the menace of modernization.

Endnotes

1. See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Plassey.

2. ibid.

3. See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Curzon_Hall.

4. See http://banglapedia.search.com.bd/HT/H_0114.htm

4. See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Gregory%27s_School_%28Dhaka%29 .

Bibliography

Blaut, J. B. The Colonizer’s Model of the World. The Guildford Press. 1993.

Max Weber. “Bureaucracy.” Economy and Society. Part III. Chapter 6. University of California Press. 1978.

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