خواطر عن تعويم اللغة العربية

Thoughts on the Devaluation of the Arabic Language

Whether in Belgium or here in Egypt, not a week goes by without someone asking me why I study Arabic, while no one has ever questioned my desire to learn English or Spanish. My Belgian friends raise their eyebrows, try to awkwardly encourage me with a tone of non-understanding, and some of them even express wonder for my taking on such a difficult challenge.

Similarly, Egyptians raise their eyebrows almost in confusion. Sometimes they even laugh and ask me: “Why are you studying a language that is neither useful nor important?” This question saddens me because it reflects a lack of understanding of the importance of the language, which leads to a loss of its value - especially when the question comes from the very native speakers of this language.

When any language loses its value, it also loses all that is inherent to it such as culture and poetry, and even the identity of its people. This is what the Palestinian people face, for example. There is no lack of understanding between the east and west about the principles of human rights, the use of violence and the violation of international law. There is a lack of understanding the very definition of humanity, who belongs to it and who deserves to have its principles applied to them. It is the end of English as a diplomatic language, and it is up to the Arabs to reaffirm the power of their language and to not let anyone tell them that it is less human than any other language. 

Language as Soft Power
English has become a language devoid of meaning. We use it to order food and drinks in a restaurant near the Pyramids, to send messages to friends on WhatsApp when we’re too lazy to use Arabic letters and to assert our coolness. We watch stupid films in it to forget the absurdity of the world and even Netflix decided to dub Arabic series and films to save English-speaking audiences from being forced to read subtitles.

From the highest platforms and podiums of the United Nations and other well-intentioned international organizations, people shout in Arabic and demand for justice, only to be told in French that the issue is “complex”. Grand resolutions are printed in English then thrown into the paper recycling bin, all the while we pretend that we have at least saved the environment.

The only field where Arabic is globally known and especially in the West, is Islamic terrorism. And this is at the expense of an entire people who’s religion and language is a message of love and peace, just like Christianity and Judaism.

It is not easy to have a name like “Jihad” or “Osama” in the West; your name is directly linked to negative or violent images resulted by a profound ignorance of the Arabic language, its history, and its cultures.

Language is a Carrier of Emotions and Empathy
When the Egyptian people flooded the streets of Cairo and demanded “3aish*” it was the responsibility of the foreign journalist covering the protests to understand its meaning and work hard to convey its core message and its political, economic, historical and social context. The use of the word “3aish” for bread in Egypt has a long and deep historical explanation that requires more than artificial intelligence and Google Translate to understand.

Media coverage in Gaza tops the list of double standards in relation to the “conflict” between Israel and Palestine. The coverage is the result of a dangerous and insulting ignorance that Western media outlets suffer from and which leads to falsified information and the suppression of Palestinian voices. When we translate Western headlines into Arabic, it seems as though Palestinians are being killed under unknown circumstances or die for religious reasons.

This overuse of the passive voice in Western languages is nothing but a fatal lack of journalistic and human morals. Making the perpetrator invisible and silencing their names means robbing the victim’s souls. The most notable example that comes to mind is the translation of the term “oustashed*” (martyred) in to a form that implies that the Palestinian did not only die by himself, but that he was also an Islamic terrorist who died a martyr. Therefore we face two problems: either the lack of understanding and detailed analysis leads to bad translation, or the inability of the Western media to properly translate Arabic terms and their contexts leads to a misleading distortion of events. Perhaps it is both, and in either case there is an urgent need for correction.

Why Do Arabs Laugh?
Last week, the Arabic language teachers at the CASA* program presented the available spring courses for the students. Among the twenty course options, one in particular caught my attention: “Why Do Arabs Laugh?” with the introduction: “If someone can put a smile on your face, it means they are able to reach your depths. If you can put a smile on someone else’s face, it means that you understand the most minute details of their culture and that you command their language completely: at the level of context, codes of communication and ways of expression. So, what if a non-Arab student of Arabic is able to understand Arabic humor?” Very good... but I would add to the title “Why Do Arabs Cry?” and “What Do Arabs Dream of?” and above all “What Do They Doubt?” Then we would have the necessary tools to understand, describe, and interact with Arab society.

Challenges of the Learner and Responsibilities of the Teacher
As a student at CASA for six months, I wake up, eat, walk, speak, think, and dream in Arabic - both Modern Standard and colloquial. We watch films and series, read folk stories, economic and political articles and write comparative analyses in the fields of sociology, anthropology and geopolitics. We discuss, in our broken Arabic, the future of international human rights principles in the morning, and the need to reform Egypt’s old rent law in the evening.

I have realized that learning any language is a never-ending journey that requires humility, and it has sometimes made me feel frustrated. How many times have I remained silent or cut myself off mid-sentence when I lacked the precise word or the right phrase to express my thoughts?

Despite all the benefits and linguistic and personal growth that learning Arabic brings me, I cannot overcome one linguistic barrier that is still there, which I personally consider a fundamental concept for expressing thoughts: the concept of nuance*. When I asked my teachers for an Arabic translation of the word, they explained to me with unsure and hesitant faces: “Something like... differences... or subtle differences.”

I’m not talking about the excessive nuance of the Swiss, or French complexity that traps you in a neutral position, preventing action. I’m talking about the importance of nuance in describing a situation: the degree and weight of each adjective, describing relativity, the value of precision, the gradation of colors and the dimensions of time and space. Because nuance does not lead to inaction; it enables action—sometimes radical, more targeted, and more thoughtful.

In conclusion, with these few thoughts, I wanted Arabic speakers and learners of Arabic to understand the power of words and how this power contributes to restoring the existing powerbalance in our personal relationships around a café in downtown and at the tables of major global conference meetings. Understanding the reasons why Arabs laugh, cry, and doubt will not save the Palestinian people overnight, but it could pave the way to building a new model that is more just and more humane.

Let us save the Arabic language from devaluation, let us dive into the depths of the abyss or fly high above the clouds, but please, let us keep it alive.