sugata

7/28/2019 Sugata

1/3

Few weeks ago, renowned Kannada linguist and writer K.V. Narayana, made aprofound suggestion on the nature of knowledge as it exists in Kannada in one ofhis blog entries. One could call it an epistemological intervention. Since the WorldKannada Conference is round the corner (three days from March 11), I think it wouldbe extremely relevant to pick his idea up for discussion.

There are three questions that he asks at the beginning and all of them haverelevance for not just Kannada but any of the Indian languages. Replace 'Kannada'with say Tamil, Telugu, Odiya or Hindi and it still works. The queries are as follows:

1. What should be the nature of the knowledge that we receive throughKannada?

2. Should the knowledge that we receive through Kannada be similar to the onewe derive from English?

3. Is there a need to also import the frameworks through which we receive

knowledge, that is, should we also borrow the troughs in which knowledge iscontained?

The fundamental distinction that Narayana makes is that there is something called'our' knowledge and 'our' assessments, interpretations and storage devices for it andthere is knowledge 'external' to our cultural situation. These questions seemextraordinary, there are attendant worries embedded in them, to which I'll come later,but then, they get thrown at us at a time when we are left pondering if there isanything potent that remains about the local or regional. That is, at a time whendiverse ideas, thought processes, identities and worldviews appear to be comingunder the rolling juggernaut of the global.

Narayana puts his questions in a historical context. He says in the past 50-odd years(since the integration of Karnataka) in the process of building the Kannada nation,we have conducted a massive exercise of offering knowledge through Kannada. Weundertook enormous translation projects of social science and humanities texts totransfer the medium of knowledge from English to Kannada. Even as we did this, wedid not integrate the various texts to understand the world around us. The volumessimply created an illusion that we were creating knowledge in our language.Students not only used Kannada to come to terms with the knowledge they werebeing imparted, but also used the language to reproduce what they had picked up.There is no doubt there have been some mature contributions over the decades, but

after a long journey we feel nothing belongs to us. Despite all the knowledge we stillseem to be wondering about the inadequacy that surrounds us. Why is this so?

Narayana tries to reason out this conundrum. He says that when we decided that wewant all knowledge through Kannada, we surrendered the crucial option of choice, ofpicking and choosing what we want and, also, of whatever we sought to receive, wedid not specify the framework through which we needed them. There was a grossindiscretion in the process of seeking, as well as transfer and as a result, he says,we have ended up in a messy situation: Kannada, inadvertently, has been reducedto a language that merely receives knowledge. This is his central point. Byimplication, he says the language has lost the confidence to generate or createknowledge. There appears to be a sudden realisation of our circumscribedexistence. In the five decades our language has not grown, the usual process of

7/28/2019 Sugata

2/3

flowering with time and interaction has been stunted because it has willingly reduceditself into an apparatus that receives but does not transmit. The one-way flow hasbeen a flaw. Worse, it has also dawned on us that although our awareness hasexpanded, the knowledge we possess is not exactly ours. Now, can there be agraver paradox to deal with for the World Kannada Conference in Belgaum?

Not all is lost, Narayana assures us. He says a rescue operation can be launched bycreating a special knowledge zone called 'Reading Karnataka' (Karnatakada Oodhu).The first step we need to take in this process is to integrate the various knowledgezones that remain scattered, independent and disconnected in the language. Eventhough we can't erase the borders between them, we should not create walls.Through this process, as it connects history, sociology, political science,anthropology, archaeology, art history, linguistics etc., we'll figure out the wayKarnataka has been perceived and interpreted by these disciplines. As we perusethe material, we'll realise that the various disciplines have perceived and placed theland and its culture in a global framework. That there is hardly any difference

between an insider's view and an outsider's take because the theoretical receptaclesare the same or similar. They are indistinguishable and alien. The only difference isthat the insider would have written his exegesis in the Kannada language.

Therefore, even though there already exists something called Karnataka Studies, itdoes not offer a true insight into our past, present and our future. What Narayanameans is that the tracks do not lead us to a fruit orchard. So, following this crucialfirst step, the next one, of understanding everything with a new perspective andreconstructing knowledge that illuminates our existence, follows automatically. We'llbe able to understand Karnataka through Kannada. In other words, we would haveput in place a Kannada-way of looking at ourselves and the wider world. We wouldhave to create our own new tools to interpret ourselves and establish a Kannadaworldview. He admits that this is not an easy task, but argues that it is imperativethat we make a beginning. Only when we do this will a static 'receiving language' likeKannada become a 'giving language,' a tongue that can impart knowledge.

To people who protest a split up between 'insider' and 'outsider' knowledge, he has asharp retort. He says they have invested heavily in universal models that are in usenow and believe that they would serve the needs of the society at all time to come.They are not aware that there are pressures constantly working within cultures toseverely restrict the frameworks of learning or perceiving knowledge. When such

pressures are pointed out they may say we shouldn't allow them to haunt us. It is anoutcome of such indifference that cultures and languages have reached a stagewhere they simply parrot what others have already stated, Narayana says. If this hasto change, we have to use frameworks that have an organic or symbiotic relationshipwith the knowledge that is created.

In an earlier interview to a little magazine, Narayana clarifies the points that he ismaking here: "In our enthusiasm to ensure that all knowledge is made available inKannada we opened our gates wide. Now, we little realise that the knowledge wepossess is what got transferred from elsewhere and that we haven't created any ofthem ourselves. We seem to have expanded our understanding of things, but then

we have lost the ability to think independently. Ram Manohar Lohia had once saidthat India had not produced an independent thinker after the fourth century.

7/28/2019 Sugata

3/3

Shankaracharya was the last one. We have come to such a pass that if need todevelop a process of thinking we borrow it from outside, we have lost confidence thata Kannada mind can create it independently. When we borrow we struggle to adaptto them to our circumstances and that in itself appears like a huge exercise. Weshould not only have a goal to create our own knowledge systems but we should

also believe that it is very much possible."

In the same interview Narayana makes a more general observation. He says that asort of languor or fatigue has impeded the Indian mind. To think independently hastaken a back seat. "It is like the state of Hanuman's mind in Ramayana just before heis to leap across the ocean. He thinks he is an insignificant small ape and may notbe able undertake the venture. But luckily for Hanuman, there are others around toinstil confidence in him, that he is very much competent to carry out the job. Butsadly, there is nobody to do that to our languages and cultures. We have simplygiven up."

Finally, let me end by posing a few nagging questions about this indigenousenterprise of knowledge: In the world that we live is it really possible to segregate'our' knowledge and 'their' knowledge? What kind of an exercise would this be andwhat kind of mindset would this require? Is it not embedded with an element ofviolence like in all reclamations, revivals and revisitations? Is there a morereconciliatory path that we should explore? How does one erase the powerrelationship that exists between the language that gives and the one that receives?How does one handle the economics and politics of it? Isn't it a better strategy toreverse the process, at least as a first step to achieve parity, where you flood thepower language, in this case English, with elements and idioms that are local? Doesthis whole exercise of marking territory not shrink our world and vistas, is itpragmatic at all when the human mind is now such an enormous interface ofinnumerable influences? It is easy to unleash this project, but how does one controlits dynamics? Haven't we seen the havoc caused by chauvinistic groups? Wouldn'tthey derive legitimacy from this kind of a knowledge project? How does one infuse agood deal of magnanimity into this whole process?

Narayana perhaps anticipates some of these questions. He says in his finalparagraph of the blog entry: "As we get into an exercise like this there are peoplewho'll accuse us of being frogs in the well. They may be correct, but while weexpress wonderment about the expanse of the ocean, we can't allow our ponds and

lakes to go dry. They sustain us not the sea."