Pakistan should get rid of English

And yes, I recognize the irony of writing this article in English. But really, the very fact that I am writing this in English should be reason enough for Pakistan to get rid of English. Or at least, reduce its importance and utility as a medium of instruction (MoI) and of upward social mobility.

Context

Brief background: I am a native Urdu speaker who speaks no other regional language and can understand some Punjabi. I grew up in Karachi, Pakistan, went to English medium schools, and by age 9 my English abilities comfortably outstripped my Urdu abilities. Is this a good thing?

Impact of English-first language policy

Let's look at what this focus on English has brought Pakistan (and other colonized nations that still have some regional languages)

1. Inequality on steroids
2. Pathetic educational outcomes
3. Brain drain
4. Zehni ghulami (mental slavery)

A minority of Pakistanis (including myself) come out way ahead because of this. We have access to good schools, good opportunities, good English, and frankly, good countries. Boom. We get ahead. The average kid growing up in the middle class, in a poor family, well, too bad too sad. If you think you are middle class - yeah, if your English is excellent, there’s a high chance you’re not actually middle class, you just think you are middle class because you compare yourself to some feudals or rentier-industrialists.

If you don't like depressing stats and would like to jump right to the the potential solutions possible way, I got you. Head over to part two of this series to see case studies from near and far, lessons for Pakistan, and chart a course to a (somewhat) nicer future.

1. Inequality on steroids: English as social control

Pakistan is a deeply classist society. Many of us have different cutlery for tradespeople and house help. People marry within their highly specific social strata and caste, while just calling it a good cultural fit. People stay in their lane. And it’s natural. But it really isn’t. We enable this classism. We enable this system of patronage where wealthier Pakistanis are simultaneously responsible for the well-being of a whole range of poorer Pakistanis, but also responsible for keeping these poorer people firmly down.

We are a divided nation, with upward mobility and social status tied to how well you can speak English. Of course, this is a wonderful way for rich people to maintain their stranglehold on power, since they have access to the best schools, teachers, and opportunities. Some kid growing up poor in Karachi or Larkana or Turbat will never be able to rise to the same level.

Of course, there will be those token examples. That kid whose labourer father somehow paid for O and A levels and the kid got a scholarship to a Canadian university. That maid whose son graduated top of his class and got a gold medal at GIK. That once child servant who by dint of hard work and strategic charity managed to qualify for a merit quota in a medical college. But by and large, poor people remain poor in Pakistan. Wisps of the sheer human talent we leave toiling in poverty (24.3% poverty rate) or dead before their 5th birthday (67 out of every 1000). And even if they get rich, they’ll always be bumpkins who can’t speak English, or, worse, who speak English with a heavy accent. It won’t matter that they speak 7 languages. If they mispronounce or otherwise misbehave with English, they don’t count.

2. Pathetic educational outcomes: Self-sabotaging our future to be better call center workers and future overseas Pakistanis

Everyone knows our educational outcomes are, well, horrendous. Ghost schools. Adult literacy in 2019 was 58%. And while you can’t blame it all of English (others: India is 74%, Bangladesh is 75%, and even Nepal is 68%, but Sri Lanka is 92%) but there does seem to be a bit of a pattern, when you compare it to other developing countries (Latin American countries seem to be all over 80% and most over 90%).

Firstly, primary language as medium of education has been proven goodness knows how many times to be way better than 2nd language or 3rd language or 4th language as medium of education. And then you add to that the fact that the teacher is often not that conversant in English either. So, in effect, we don’t teach our kids in a language they can understand, instead, teaching them in a language alien to them that most teachers don’t speak too well either!

Again, I’d like to emphasise, some people (perhaps the very people reading this) had great teachers in private schools and convents and boarding schools. However, I’m concerned with most people, because, well, frankly, Pakistan only has a (good) future if most people get decent education. How many good schools exist in Pakistan? And how many poor people can afford to send their kids there? Or even if they had money, how many could pass the social tests to get their kids enrolled?

Back to self-sabotaging educational outcomes. So, outside of a pocket of good schools, we have teachers with poor English teaching kids with poor English, everything in English. How is that rational? Primary language as medium of instruction (MoI) would be the best thing ever. If not, even having some local languages as MoI would be better. Chances of poor kids speaking Urdu or Sindhi or other major language >>> chances of speaking English. And double that for the teachers.

And then you have kids, who learn all too quickly to see difference in our skins, our accents, our languages. And specifically to languages: how many kids get turned off from education when their accent is mocked? Or their tooti phooti English is mimicked? Or their pronunciation is ridiculed?

3. English enabling brain drain

Pakistan makes it insanely easy for its people to go abroad. And yes, of course, I don’t think that’s a bad thing, especially when Pakistan is such a… non-ideal place for so many. But is it that Pakistan continues to be poor, in part because of the very brain drain that it experiences? And this brain drain is massive. From my own Karachi high school (both O and A levels), I think well over half are now firmly settled abroad. Quite a few go abroad on scholarships, vowing to go back. Only the rich do. Well, them, and those whose family situations don’t allow it. Otherwise, brain drain is massive. But you know all that.

Is that smart? Is this brain drain something Pakistan wants to continue?

Of course, there is something Machiavellian about this. It sounds bad, doesn’t it? It sounds like an abusive situation. Teach Pakistanis in local languages so they’d be less able to fit in and adapt to other countries. But our policymakers should consider this. Of course, if Pakistan could somewhat adequately fulfil its citizens basic needs for roti, kapra, makaan (food, clothing, shelter) plus more arcane things like safety, respect, and tolerance, why would anyone leave? But Pakistan doesn’t meet their needs. And leave they do. And the more people leave, especially the more educated ones with the most opportunities, the worse off they leave Pakistan.

4. Zehni ghulami (Mental slavery)

Zehni ghulami = continued subservience to western culture, politics, ideas, ad infinitum.

We have some amazing music, drama, video, and social media talent. That said, our global impact is limited. We barely have a film industry. We have almost zero indigenous cartoons or content for children, instead, we mindlessly put on whatever the latest western craze is. Our indigenous language publishing is a joke (compared to our population and historic cultural output). The world affects us more that we affect it. And now that India is moving towards next level Sanskritised Hindi (or just English too) we won’t be able to as easily piggyback off of them for Urdu content either. Some Punjabi content is still good east of the border, of course. But that’s in a yet another script. Anyway, our cultural content is limited at best.

And there are lots of other reasons for all this! But the one major one that we are concerned with is that people with money (and cultural capital) would rather consume English content than they would consume local language content. And we are more concerned with the latest happenings in various anglophone countries, and we import their cultural wars and issues.

Even France and Germany are worried about the overwhelming cultural hegemony of English. They've been somewhat protected from anglophone propaganda and priorities by the protection of relatively limited penetration of English. Now, though, they're at risk too.

Urdu at a Cross-roads

Despite all the above, there's significant hope for the future of Urdu (and other regional languages) and by extension, hope for improving/solving/ending inequality, educational outcomes, brain drain, and zehni ghulami.

The good

Cultural production still remains in Urdu and other local languages. We still have excellent dramas, weekly digests, news, secular and religious literature and other media, developed and delivered in Urdu etc. Friday sermons alone perform an incredible function in supporting widespread appreciation and familiarity with poetry, rhetoric, and a refined vocabulary. And we have amazing stories and music!

But the real gamechanger, I think, is the recent upgrades in the digitization of Urdu. There have been major advances in Urdu input, both keyboard and voice input (very cool article from 2021: Bringing Urdu into the digital age). There are databases of Urdu actively maintained to enable Urdu digital activities, from NLP Datasets (see: Makhzan) to OCR analyis. It has literally never been easier to be an Urdu digital citizen. Anecdotally, I've seen way more people now communicating (with me, at least) via Urdu text, rather than romanized Urdu or English.

Thanks to everyone making it easier!

The mixed

There are various efforts by well-wishers and lovers of our languages, there is a strong core of committed speakers, and there remains a system in place where Urdu (and some other local languages) are still a medium of instruction. Which is actually pretty good!

However, there is limited state support. The strong core is slowly reducing in size and economic importance. And graduates of Urdu medium schools are actively discriminated against in privileged circles. Urdu is not the default. And if Behavioural Econ taught us anything, it's that the default will win. And this is actually quite bad.

Summary: Urdu still has what it takes to be a fully sovereign national language, but it may lose its remaining advantages pretty quickly.

The bad

Education (and socio-cultural) reproduction is happening more and more in English, rendering our connection to our past, our heritage, and our history ever weaker.

Further, Urdu and other regional languages are fighting amongst each other for a piece of a shrinking pie. Non-Urdu speakers would rather ditch Urdu and keep their local language + English. That their local language would also eventually go the way of Urdu is not really considered.

Another world is possible

Not everyone has done what we have done. Most successful countries retain their own languages as MoI's, have a strong cultural base, and retain their heritage, and in some cases, maintain political sovereignty. In various ways, these include: China, Turkey, Vietnam, Korea, Iran, and Israel. These will be covered in the next article, coming soon.

There is a place as well for subnational languages. Regional languages deserve to be the MoI for their speakers as well. If we want a tide that lifts all boats, we'll ensure every child gets primary education in his or her primary language. We may have to make some compromises first, start with Urdu for quick wins and then move on to Punjabi, Sindhi, Pushto, Seraiki, Balochi, Dari, and more.

And this does not mean cutting ourselves off from the world. Far from it. Any measure to support national/regional languages as MoI at various levels of education must be accompanied by extensive translation efforts à la Baghdad during Abbasid times. And realistically, these can only be done by the state. It is clear that anglophone resources dominate science, technology, education, and practically every sector there is. We should not cut ourselves off from it. Translation of everything the average person needs shouldn't be too hard. Translation of cutting-edge science will be harder, but that's where English can be promoted or used, like it is used as a language of international science and education, not local science and education.

We are ever closer to a world where every child is educated, where our people are full participants in both the physical and digital realms, and where our future is inextricably linked to our past, our cultural values, our heritage, and our sovereign decisions about where we go as a people and as a country.

Let's go.

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Future/other articles in this series:

1. Get rid of English already: Why (this article)

Identifying the pernicous effects of English on our languages, our culture, our sovereignty, and our economy; and introducing the brave new world of digital Urdu

2. Get rid of English already: How

Using case studies from far and near to understand lessons and chart possible courses for Pakistan

3. Get rid of English already: Why are we still waiting

Review of (some) other people's work on this so far. A lot of people have been saying this. Why hasn't it worked?

PS

This conversation has often used Urdu as the default. That's because it is our national language and the language I feel is best placed to play that true lingua franca role. However, much of the same analysis is valid for regional languages, which deserve state support as MoIs in their own right.

A future move towards removing English as a MoI may be done via multiple transition steps, e.g., using local languages as MoIs for primary schooling, then later for secondary schooling, then later for tertiary schooling - if we decide to go there. We could retain/improve bilingual education, with some subjects being taught exclusively in local languages. Nothing like forcing kids to write long essays to build vocabulary and technical proficiency for the language being used.