Using words skillfully is a prerequisite for a politician
Jonathan Swift in his Gulliver’s Travels presents a satirical account of men at Lagado who devise a new way to express themselves: Instead of using nouns in their conversations, they carry things which the nouns refer to on their backs. Every time they hold a conversation, they lay down their loads, open their sacks and use implements they carry to converse. Fortunately for us, we have words.
When we speak, we actually use a “system of hisses and hums and squeaks and pops.” But these apparently funny utterings sound perfectly meaningful to the members of our linguistic community. It is so because we, in communities, inject meanings into sounds. We use this system of combinatorial sounds to refer to reality that surrounds us. Words, then, become alternatives to the world. We twist and toss the world around us with the help of words. It is through this remarkable system that we communicate and put information into one another’s heads.
When we pronounce a word, it is a sign that we allocate to a particular signified, the thing being referred to. This process of naming or assigning is not neutral. Someone who names things exercises a certain authority in doing so. Once it is done, others can either accept it or reject it. The archetypal story of Satan rejecting Adam’s authority to name things communicates the same idea. Satan rejected Adam’s right to assign names and thus began the saga of the conflict between authority and defiance. Throughout subsequent history, the one who held power had the right to assign names to physical and abstract entities. That words acquire currency once they are coined is a usual phenomenon but in matters where the society is divided, controversies emerge and defiance is manifested in rejecting signs or words by rebellious segments in society. This politics around words is a continual feature in today’s world too. Those in power assign words to entities physical and otherwise, while others object to or totally reject their act.
A very relevant example would be the proposal of a former minister to henceforth abandon the use of the word Taliban, because of its positive denotation, and instead use Zaliman to aptly convey civil society’s response to their nefarious agenda. Based on its prosodic similarity, the suggestion was quite intelligent and could have been used to enormous advantage in the counter-terrorism narrative of the state. Unfortunately, the suggestion was never taken up by the media and never gained currency in the public space.
The interface between a sign – a spoken or a written word – and its meaning is a very significant aspect of our individual and collective existence. Consider for instance the implication of calling 9/11 a single “event” or a series of “events.” The controversy was initiated when an insurance claim of up to $7 billion had to be settled. If it were a single event, Larry Silverstein, the lease holder of the World Trade Centre, would get an insurance payout of $3.5 dollars; however, if it were established that the day witnessed another destructive event in which the second tower fell, then he could get up to seven billion dollars from the insurance company.
Not always does the meaning of a word entail such huge sums, yet the interface between a word and its meaning has the potential to make or break a situation. In law, politics, business and diplomacy this interface is carefully contained against wayward interpretations even at the cost of brevity. India-Pakistan talks in 2001, known as the Agra Summit, failed because the Pakistani side wanted to use the word ‘dispute’ for Kashmir in the joint declaration, while the Indian side was uncomfortable with the word. The Indian side, as was later reported in the press, was unwilling to let domestic politicians use the word to batter the government for bowing down to Pakistani stance on Kashmir.
Quite often, what we intend to communicate is interpreted in a very different manner by the receiver of the message. A case in point: George W. Bush’s use of the word “crusade”. He wanted his global audience to decode the word into its connotative meaning – i.e., a war with a purpose, but it was decoded into its literal, denotative meaning: war waged by Christians against Muslims. The outcome came in the shape of a furor in the Muslim world.
Meanings are dependent on reader’s mind. They have the prerogative to interpret. That is why messages, especially the ones transmitted in the public domain, have to be carefully crafted. “Niggardly” is a word which means frugally. Its etymology has nothing to do with the word nigger. But when the word was used by a US official in a government office, it cost him his job because there was a backlash from the African-American community which considered the use of the word racially discriminating. No amount of rational explanation or a lecture in word etymology could pacify the crowd and the official had to be transferred to another state. (You can even find a Wikipedia entry on “Controversies about the word niggardly”.)
Using words skillfully is an essential skill that is required of a politician. In the exercise of this skill too, the Pakistani breed has shown lacklustre performance. Musharraf was famously grilled for suggesting rape was a shortcut to becoming rich. Former Prime Minister Gillani was equally embarrassed when he used “handpicked” instead of “handful” to refer to militants in the White House press briefing back in 2008. Imran Khan’s latest suggestion to offer an “office” to the Taliban so that the government could negotiate with them right after the Peshawar Church bombing was also adversely interpreted by the society which has the right to interpret. It is onto the politicians to undergo sensitivity training in their use of language.
Shahzeb Khan is a faculty member, GC University, Lahore, and can be reached at: shahzeb.khaan@live.com