Padma Devkota
The reality of present day existence raises serious doubts about the delivery of education in the
humanities rather than about the inherent competence of serious literature or the arts to unteach hatred. I here use the term hatred to describe not only intense dislike or animosity of one group of people for another but
also more systematized negative attitudes that are stacked carefully in our daily language and behavior. I understand unlearning hatred as learning love; unlearning greed as learning charity, learning to think of others through
socialization; unlearning anger as learning tolerance through understanding of human fallibility; unlearning pride as learning to be meek and humble without sacrificing self-respect and human dignity. I believe it is possible
to unteach hatred, greed, anger, and pride through liberal education in the humanities, especially through good literature. I believe education of the young should start with children's literature and bedtime stories.
There can be little doubt that not learning to hate in the first place is better than unlearning to hate. And, if we have already developed this negative response towards a different group of people, it is probably because
we have foolishly undermined both the significance of the humanities and the role of poets and artists in our society.
In addition, we may also ask ourselves where, how and why we have learnt this negative response. For example, is the Hindu-Muslim tension a result of some political accident or of an excess of uncritical
faith and literal adherence to scriptural teachings? Have we perhaps learnt to hate a different group accidentally in school or at home? Has our community been promoting dislikes and differences through uncritical thought,
language or behavior? Where has education gone wrong?
In Nepal, education in the humanities has been very unfortunately undermined as something less useful than that in the sciences or even in commerce and management, and is sought by many academically
weaker students who nevertheless need a certificate to apply for a job. That also partly explains why the humanities in our universities subserve the political interests of the national players of the democracy game. Lack
of serious academic concern on the part of the authorities is deplorable because it is indeed the humanities—literature, history, philosophy, religion, languages, etc.—that allows people to appreciate their connections
to the past and to other cultures of the world. By demeaning the status of the humanities in our universities, we are promoting hatred and jealousies, opening wider the rift between science and the humanities, and giving a
false message to the society that scientists are superior people.
I think that scientists and businesspersons alike should learn to experience the humanities. Every time we read an interesting book, watch a good movie, visit the art gallery,
listen to a concert, or tell a bedtime story to our children, we are experiencing the humanities. Literature, and especially poetry, is a source of beauty that is born in the best dreams of the human mind and expressed in
the most memorable language of the artist. As Mallarmé puts it, poetry is the purification of the language of the tribe. What it can do to enhance the quality of the mind is often beyond the grasp of mere literature
degree holders who do not always have its equivalence in knowledge and training. This leads to many social problems.
And I will also repeat the obvious: technical and vocational skills are different from proper education in the humanities, which alone is capable of stabilizing the play of prudence, pleasure and
power in human societies. Neither religious orthodoxy, nor guiding hedonism, nor boastful knowledge, nor even the residing deity at the end of the muzzle can create the peaceful world we desire. Only the humanities and fine
arts have the desired effects upon the human heart, which awakens to compassion with a revival of sensibility that is almost absent in our age. Only poetry, the essence of compassion dressed in the best garb of human expression,
can spread the desired effects in other human hearts that will then understand the power of love. This should prove to be the undoing of hatred.
Whenever a case of hatred erupts anywhere, civilization takes a step backwards. It is always at risk of collapse. Like a card-castle, it will topple down any moment with a gust of anger, a grunt of
disapproval, or a singe of temper. Without restraint and control, the upper layers of the card-castle cannot be built. It is difficult to determine just how much will collapse when a world war or a civil war begins, when a
holocaust starts, or when mosques and temples are havocked. Every unguarded moment when we allow a sneer, a jeer, a mockery, or a quarrel to surface will destroy a part of that noble monument of human endeavor to enhance
the quality of life. As William Golding might put it, the varnish of civilization may peel off any time if sufficient control is not exerted on the baser drives and instincts of human beings by educating these in the right
direction.
Yet, history is full of such moments when desired responses have failed. And history is full of
attempts to renovate the monument of civilization. Conscious poets and artists of all times have often not only denounced hatred and all negative attitudes in the process, they have actually actively participated in socio-political
events in an attempt to correct these. To my mind, they have succeeded best where the human intellect and imagination have worked together towards revelation and enlightenment. Voltaire's intellectual attempt to contrast
what ought to be with what actually is is still in keeping with his imaginative grasp of the necessity of God for human societies. And it is easy to agree with Voltaire when he says that faith in God creates repulsion for
the ugly and the monstrous. The Age of Enlightenment found beauty in respect for human beings. It taught self-discovery, critical thinking, and exploration of human values.
Such beauty, however, is short-lived in the absence of myth. A society that is not sufficiently drenched in myth will blow like dry, infertile dust in the chaos of its own storm.
Myth is proof of the fertility of human imagination. It also encourages prudence; but people easily tend to forget prudence in the race for power and pleasure. Prudence, by supporting systems, provides a strong base for civilization.
There is no civilization without system, no system without order, no order without self-restraint. Self-restraint can be unconsciously learnt like language or consciously practiced. That is why imitation is part of our everyday
education in the field of personal response to social requirements of conformation or rebellion. That is why we look up to our social ideals and utopias, to Ram Rajya, to Buddha, to Gandhi, to great literary personalities
and so on. We create myths and legends around people we regard as our ideals. We desire to become like them. But, in our daily lives, we see the examples of our own leaders who err into deception or who corrupt into wealth.
The fake glory and pomp, the abused expressions of power, and the decadent culture of glittering gold has misled many young hearts into counterfeit expressions of their souls with dreams of instant acclaim by the empire of
the immortals. Promoted by the friendly press, demoted by the aggressive press, upheld as ideals by flatters, denounced by disappointed self-seekers, genuine writers have suffered greatly for lack of sober criticism in today's
counterfeit culture where myth and the humanities are questioned with regard to their utilitarian values by a society powered by wealth and political connections.
As a result, I believe that anyone writing today has first to denounce this barbarism—this counterfeit culture of self-importance—that has raised its head in the name of the people, in
the name of democracy, and in the name of faith. Adrienne Rich offers us an interesting example through her refusal of the National Medal for the Arts in the fall of 1997. She explains her refusal thus:
In my lifetime I have seen the space for the arts opened by movements for social justice, the power of art to break despair. Over the past two decades I have witnessed the increasingly
brutal impact of racial and economic injustice in our country.
There is no simple formula for the relationship of art to justice. But I do know that art—in my own case the art of poetry—means nothing if it simply decorates the dinner table of
power which holds it hostage…. I don't think we can separate art from overall human dignity and hope. My concern for my country is inextricable from my concerns as an artist.
And then, in the Book Section of Los Angeles Times of August 3, 1997, she explores the relationship between art and government:
Art is our human birthright, our most powerful means of access to our own and another's experience and imaginative life. In continually rediscovering and recovering the humanity of human beings,
art is crucial to the democratic vision. A government tending further and further away from the search for democracy will see less and less "use" in encouraging artists, will see art as obscenity or hoax.
This leads us back to what I was trying to say about the humanities and government. A government that does not understand the social value of the humanities cannot pretend to be democratic.
Finally, I would like to underscore the concept of preserving the "humanity of human beings." This is what civilization is all about. If it is human to err, civilization
must mean tolerance of human weaknesses. If it is human to weep, civilization must mean sympathy for the miserable. If it is human to desire, civilization must mean charity that understands the needs of others. This is why
we need conscious and powerful writers to continually remind people of the benefits of civilization and to show them the strength of beauty through respect for human beings.
Unfortunately, the reality of human existence is often marred by moral ugliness. Let us note one
instance of recent ugliness. On August 31, 2004, twelve Nepalese were slaughtered in Iraq. The violent outburst of public emotion on September 1, 2004 led to the loss of more lives and property and also to the inception of
Hindu hatred against Islam in a very tolerant Kathmandu. The attack on Jame Mosque situated in the heart of the capital did arouse reciprocal sentiments that have fortunately fizzled out by now. The scar, however, outlives
the wound. We have understood how easily public sentiments can confuse political terrorism with religious fundamentalism, and, if we stretch it a bit further, with racial, national, and other differences too. This is why we
crave for some more critical awareness in our everyday living.
Differences instinctively arouse curiosity and suspicion. When differences also threaten life and personal happiness, there is enmity and hatred among the concerned parties. Such feelings are further fueled by
hegemonic relationships as between social and economic classes or between nations. The dominant-subordinate relationship between a superpower and a weaker nation or between the center and the margin can never achieve a state
of equality between each other despite good-willed diplomatic missions. Neither can attitudes between the haves and the have-nots be brought to equilibrium as long as the acquisition of private wealth continues as a showpiece
culture of the decadent rich. Otherness is always a possible threat to identity; recognition of the other as a non-threat is the beginning of peace and harmony. This can come only with understanding of our differences in terms
of sex, race, colour, gender, religion, nation, age, ethnicity, disability and the like. Stereotypical thought only promotes prejudice, thereby leading to segregations and other mistreatments of one group of people by another.
Both education in the humanities and the power of poetry can correct attitudes. Sharing and understanding our cultural and mythological experiences offers itself as one of the best remedies to hatred. I think this is what
a SAARC Writers' Conference is all about: basically a quest for cultural connectivity through sharing and caring for everyone who is willing to make this region a better place to live in.
My heart is with you all.
Devkota Sadan
Maitidevi
September 27, 2004
A paper presented at the Eleventh SAARC Writers' Conference held in Delhi, India, on October 7, 2004.
