It all started with the Word…
Language File #14: The Case of the Red-faced Redactor
Did you know… that the formal analysis of Arabic grammar might have begun with a loss of face? Great scholars don’t start out that way, you know. They begin their learning journey like everyone else, and make errors and gaffs that are sometimes quite embarrassing. And such was the case in the life of Abu Bishr ‘Amr ibn ‘Uthman ibn Qanbar al-Basri, known throughout the Arab and Muslim worlds as Sibawayhi, the father of Arabic grammar. Born in Persia around 760, Sibawayhi later moved to Basra and became associated with the linguistic scholars of that city where he published his systematic study and codification of Arabic grammar (nahw) known as al-Kitab. His influence spread far and wide wherever scholars sought to learn the secrets of the Arabic language, and his Kitab has often been referred to as Qur’an al-Nahw (the Qur’an of Grammar).
But what drove Sibawayhi to this great achievement? Humiliation. The story is told of how the young Sibawayhi, while studying fiqh (Islamic jurisprudence) and hadith (traditions of the Prophet) got up to recite for his shaykh, Hamad al-Basri. In a sentence that involved the negative verb laysa, which takes its predicate in the accusative case (mansub), he erred, speaking the predicate in the nominative case (marfu’) instead. At that point, Hamad al-Basri roughly cut him off, interjecting, “You have made an error in nahw, O Sibawayhi!”
So stung was he by that mistake, the story goes, that he dedicated himself to the detailed study of the intricacies of Arabic so that none could fault his knowledge of the language ever again. Sibawayhi’s Kitab remained the definitive grammar of the Arabic language for generations.
6/20/2013
It all started with the Word…
Language File #7: The Case of the Corporal Connotations
Did you know… that different cultures focus on various parts of the body to express emotions and attitudes? We are accustomed to say in English, for instance, that a suspect could not escape the long arm of the law, or my friend acts tough, but has a big heart. And we all know someone who has her nose in the air. Of course, certain parts of the body, unmentionable here, are invoked to insult or praise the object of one’s attention.
Well, in Arabic we find that a person who is a big pain in the neck and no fun to be around would be described as having heavy blood, (ثقيل الدم – thaqil al-dam), he’s unpleasant or vexatious. And conversely a nice, pleasant person might be described as being light-blooded, ( دمه خفيف – damuhu khafif), we think of him as simpatico. That stuck-up coworker is someone who sees himself ( شائف حاله – sha’if halahu), but you can get back at him by doing something to spite his nose (رغماً عن انفه – raghman ‘an anfihi).
The limbs can express power and authority or the lack thereof. This might appear in reference to the hand as in the expression under his authority, or in his power (تحت يده – taht yadihi), or describe coming away from a deal empty-handed ( صفر اليدين – sifr al-yadayn). The foot might speak for a certain kind of transaction such as when a prospective tenant pays a fee as a bonus ( خلو الرجل – khuluw al-rijl) in order to receive preference in renting an apartment; he has freed up his foot—got a foot in the door, so to speak. Or preparations for a special event might be under way energetically (قدماً وساقاً – qadaman wa-saqan) that is, by foot and leg.
Both in English and Arabic, as well as other languages, the heart is a universal symbol of love and compassion, joy and sorrow, courage and cowardess. Arabic songs frequently describe the painful yearning of unrequited love where the lover complains that the lady he desires has wounded his heart ( يا جارحة قلبي – ya jariha qalbi), or tell of the hard-hearted (قاسي القلب – qasi al-qalb) beau who ignores his sad admirer quietly pining away for him. When it comes to maternal love, a mother might lovingly reply to her child’s request by saying, “yes, my eye” ( يا عيني – ya ‘ayni), with the meaning, my precious one, my dearest. As for the faint of heart (ضعيف القلب – Da’if al-qalb) who shrinks from a challenge, he stands in contrast to the lionhearted (قلب الاسد – qalb al-asad) courage of the stalwart hero.
Language abounds in such “corporal” metaphors. Look for them in your own.
4/2/2013
It all started with the Word…
Language File #11: The Case of the Number Nightmares
Did you know… that counting “one, two, three, four …” might seem pretty easy, but counting in Arabic is no simple matter? In the case where a number is modifying a substantive (noun or adjective) associated with it, it even requires special case and gender changes. But that’s not all. There are other counting features such as the dual case for substantives representing more than one but less than three. The headaches these phenomena give learners new to the language caused British Arabist A. S. Tritton to describe Arabic numerals as “the nightmare of the bankrupt financier!”
Here’s why. Taking the cardinal numbers first, the numbers 3 through 10 take the feminine form when the gender of the numbered objects is masculine. (ex. thalathatu rijalin, “three men”); when the gender of the numbered objects is feminine, the numbers 3 through 10 take the masculine form (ex. ‘ashru banatin, “ten girls). The modified object whether masculine or feminine is in the genitive case. The latter is actually termed an idafa construction (a genitive construct) with the numeral acting as a substantive whose case endings are governed by its function in the sentence (subject, object of preposition, etc.), while the numbered object is in the genitive (as the second term of the idafa). But that syntax changes when the numbers range from 11 through 19, in which case the units and the tens designations are treated somewhat differently. The numbers representing the units follow the rules indicated above, while, this time, the numbers indicating the tens follow the gender of the numbered object. To top it off, the numbered object is singular in form and in the accusative case! (ex. thalatha ‘asharata risalatan [fem.] “thirteen letters”; khamsata ‘ashara kitaban [masc.], “fifteen books”). The units-tens constructs are usually indeclinable. The numbers 20 through 90 have one form for both masculine and feminine, and require the numbered objects to be in the accusative singular.
Is your brain swirling yet? Hold on there’s more! We haven’t even looked at the ordinal numbers. Then there are the hundreds, the thousands, the compounds, the distributive, multiplicative, and adverbial forms.
But no. Enough! We’ll leave all those fine points to the committed (no pun intended) Arabists. Just take note that in spoken language, the numbers are vastly more simplified. Thank goodness.
5/23/2013
It all started with the Word…
Language File #15: The Case of Renewal and Reform
Did you know… that at the heart of the move toward modernization in the Arab world has been the revival of the Arabic language as the vehicle of change? That effort continues to drive cultural development today to a large degree. The thrust to modernize began in response to the cultural shock that resounded across the Arab world when Napoleon’s army invaded and occupied Egypt in 1798.
Overwhelmed and alarmed by the disparity, first in arms then in a multitude of other aspects of society, the Arabs sought to retain their sense of identity in the face of this military and cultural onslaught from the West.
By the late nineteenth century, the effort to modernize Arab society was seen as an arousal from sleep and was dubbed al-Nahda, the Awakening, and Arab intellectuals embarked on the task of renewing their society by revisiting the literature of their glorious past, reviving its linguistic genius, and applying it to
the demands of contemporary life. This period saw a virtual renaissance of Arabic linguistic and literary activity encompassing education, translation, lexicography, science, journalism, and literature. Led initially by Levantine Christians such as Ibrahim al-Yaziji, Butrus al-Bustany, Francis Marrash, and Khalil Gibran, the impulse captured the attention of Egyptian writers such as Jurji Zaydan, Ahmad Taymur, Mustafa al-Manfaluti, ‘Abbas Mahmud al-‘Aqqad, and Taha Husayn. Stifled in Ottoman Syria, many of the Levantines displaced to Egypt where greater freedom of expression was invigorated by the existence of the printing press. It comes as no surprise that the earliest Arabic newspapers originated there, founded by Levantine Christians.
The renewal of commitment to Islam and the updating of its applicability to the needs of the modern world constituted another, equally important approach to modernization. Associated with that effort were advocates of Islamic reform such as Jamal al-Din al-Afghani, Muhammad ‘Abdu, and Rashid Rida. Reverence for Arabic as the vehicle of God’s word in the Quran accompanied the burgeoning effort to revive the language as the vehicle for Arab cultural identity.
We will explore some of the linguistic and stylistic problems that have characterized the modernization effort in future issues.
6/25/2013
It all started with the Word…
Language File #16: The Case of Modernizing Modalities.
Did you know… that modernization of Arabic as a literary and scientific language remains an unfinished task that continues to challenge the literati and intellectuals of the Arab world? In the last issue we discussed how the impulse to modernize the language was driven by the defensive reaction to the negative encounter with the West. That encounter shocked the speakers of Arabic into a flurry of activity to defend the Arabic language against the threat of irrelevance or even disappearance, and that led the defenders down two divergent paths. Namely, some endeavored to revive the classical language as the holy language of the Quran and of revered ancient literature, while others sought to make it more suitable for the contemporary needs of their societies. Clearly, the problem of modern Arabic linguistics lay in how to remake the language—but in its own image.
We are faced with a distinction between the Islamic modernizers, whose aim was to defend their society through revival of Islamic religion, and the modernizers of the Arabic language, who sought to revive their language to respond to a world newly defined by technology and scientific progress. While the impact of the former on the Arabic language fostered renewed respect for the language of their faith, it was the latter group who carried the burden of developing the tools and techniques that would allow Arabic to naturalize the products, concepts, and ideas of the modern era. And it was the writers, journalists, and educators that led that effort. The techniques they used went all the way back to the early Arab grammarians of the 8th century, but they were employed with renewed vigor by the modernizers of the 19th and 20th centuries.
Using the insights developed by the grammarians, especially the Basra school whose most famous member was Sibawayhi, the modernizers opened the toolbox that included: qiyas (analogy), ishtiqaq (derivation), naht (formation of compound words), and ta’rib (assimilation of foreign words). In the hands of the Arab modernizers, these tools were not only productive, but indispensible. Exposure to the modern world characterized by European science, literature, social organization, and political behavior had awakened in the Arab world a desire to resume their role as a great civilization. Their language would be the key to their renaissance.
In future issues, we will take a closer look at how these linguistic processes work.
7/02/2013
It all started with the Word…
Language File #17: The Case of the Nimble Nahdah.
Did you know… that an Arab renaissance was set in motion by what the late historian Ibrahim Abu-Lughod termed the Arab Rediscovery of Europe?1 Referred to as the Nahdah, an awakening from sleep, the discovery that Western science, society, and material progress had far outdistanced them not only upset the self-concept of the Arabs, but also excited their imagination. Arab rulers and elites sought to learn the secrets of modern warfare and statecraft while intellectuals and writers sought to learn new concepts of political organization and unfamiliar literary genres.
As we discussed in a previous issue, this desire to modernize created a stir of literary activity centered on developing the capacity to express this modernity within the Arabic language. But the modernizers had to overcome religious as well as philological hurdles. The classical language of the Quran was sacrosanct, so the modernizers of the Nahdah dug into the philology of the early period to find appropriate techniques they could apply to their task. What they discovered
was the inherent genius in the Arabic language:
“The perfect system of the three radical consonants, the derived verbal forms with their basic meanings, the precise formation of the verbal noun, of the participle—everything is clarity, logic, system, and abstraction. The language is like a mathematical formula.2“
By retrieving the empirical principal of qiyas or analogy and relying on the techniques it provides, the modernizers were able to build new expressions. Through the technique of ishtiqaq (derivation), for example, they extended the meanings of root words to obtain from Form I verbs: maTaar (airport) originally a place to or from which a birdflies); baakhirah (steamship) a semantic extension; ratiib (monotonous); from Form II verbs: muharrik (motor); muwallid (generator). They applied this method to the other main verbal Forms III through X, too. Ishtiqaq permits a diversity of approaches, including derivation of abstract nouns from nisbah forms such as: ishtiraakiiyah (socialism) and shuyuu’iiyah (communism). Naht (compounding) and ta’rib (assimilation) offered additional approaches to lexical development.
This discussion barely touches the surface of linguistic developments in modern Arabic, but can only give the flavor of how the changes have come about. What we can say is that the lasting achievement of the Arab modernizers has been to create “semantic equivalence between the Arabic lexicon and the lexica of the modern European languages.” And the process goes on.
7/11/2013
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1 Ibrahim Abu-Lughod, Arab Rediscovery of Europe, 1962.
2 Jaroslav Stetkevych, The Modern Arabic Literary Language, The University of
Chicago Press, Chicago, 1970.
It all started with the Word…
Language File #9: ”Two Kinds of Wonderful” – The Case of Diglossia in Arabic.
Did you know… that while speaking with a forked tongue is deplorable, speaking in two tongues is not only acceptable in some cultures but expected? The simultaneous existence of two levels of language— some linguists prefer to define this as two separate languages—is representative of several cultures, but perhaps the one most commonly associated with this phenomenon is Arab culture. I am talking about the linguistic phenomenon called diglossia. Although not unknown to earlier linguists, the term came resoundingly to light in an article by linguist Charles Ferguson in an issue of Word 15 (1959) where he defined diglossia as,
A relatively stable language situation in which, in addition to primary dialects of the language (which may include a standard or regional standards), there is a very divergent, highly codified (often grammatically more complex) superposed variety, the vehicle of a large and respected body of written literature, either of an earlier period or in another speech community, which is learned by formal education and is used for most written and formal spoken purposes but is not used by any sector of the community for ordinary conversation.
Anyone who has studied Classical Arabic, also described as formal, literary, or written, but generally referred to today as Modern Standard Arabic (MSA), and then traveled to an Arabic-speaking country for work or tourism will have noticed that the everyday language of the community does not match what she or he has learned. Well, our traveling Arabist has just encountered Colloquial Arabic, the spoken language of everyday life in North Africa, Egypt, the Levant, the Arabian Peninsula, Iraq, and the Arabian Gulf. And even within the various Arab territories, there are varieties of the colloquial language spoken in each: sedentary versus nomadic, urban versus rural, and sub varieties of higher and lower prestige value, not to mention the habit of code-switching between Arabic and expressions from other languages (represented, in one case, by what some call francoarabe in North Africa.)
Modern Standard Arabic, on the other hand, is the expected vehicle for formal settings, religious activities, print and broadcast media, speeches, and diplomacy. To use Colloquial Arabic in any of those situations would repel listeners and be treated with disdain.
I’ll explore this topic more in future articles as we look more closely at MSA and the different colloquial dialects.
10 April 2013
It all started with the Word…
Language File #10: The Case of Diglossia in Arabic – Response to Feedback
Did you know… that some people actually read the Language Sleuth articles? And some have been kind enough to take the trouble to provide feedback to the “Sleuth.” The previous article on diglossia in Arabic is a case in point. One reader contends that diglossia is a characteristic in all languages, and he cited examples of variation in such dichotomies as “German and High German, levels within Modern Greek,” and a couple more.” Another reader takes issue with the statement, “to use Colloquial Arabic in any of those situations would repel listeners and be treated with disdain.”
I respond by saying that there is truth in the notion that there are levels within every language that set apart one form of speech from another. In French, for example, the verb tenses of past historic and past anterior are virtually never encountered outside of literature, and it would be a rare bird, indeed, who would utter, “nous arrivâmes en France,” instead of “nous sommes arrivés en France.” But that hardly qualifies as evidence of diglossia. Examples from numerous other languages would show that speech registers and levels of discourse represent various degrees of formality, class differences, and specialized jargons and argots, but they do not constitute diglossia. So, I would ask the reader to reexamine Charles Ferguson’s definition quoted in the previous article, and by all means read that seminal article in Word 15 (1959). For Ferguson, a linguist with extensive work on linguistic phenomena in Arabic, what he observed in respect of language behavior in Arab culture was so striking that he introduced the term diglossia in order to account for it. Since that time, diglossia has become a commonplace among scholars of Arabic, who write or speak about it as a background to whatever their studies might be focused on. It is the signal characteristic of Arabic language behavior in the social sphere.
Another reader objected to the assertion that the spoken language is absent from formal situations and to use it there would be resented. The reader’s correction is well taken. My statement did overreach in terms of language habits on the ground in several countries, and as with all forms of language, there is interaction and influence across the written-spoken divide. In many public gatherings, colloquial usages are the norm interspersed with what might be termed literary expressions. All of the variations on this theme are too many to broach here, but it should be remembered that for decades, the ideal of Classical Arabic has been given great deference in Arab culture among the educated and uneducated alike.
Recently, a form of MSA that shares some prominent features of colloquial language has emerged as a suitable vehicle for the training of diplomats and businessmen, and provides an opportunity for real communication outside of the strictly formal language or specific dialect. This has been termed Formal Spoken Arabic, an innovation that we can expect to see develop over time as more research is done on the teaching and learning aspects of this language.
12 April 2013
It all started with the Word…
Language File #20: The Case of Modern Arabic Literature.
Did you know… that the Nahdah brought the techniques and conventions of European literature to the attention of Arab writers? In previous articles, we discussed how this period saw a “virtual renaissance of Arabic linguistic and literary activity encompassing education, translation, lexicography, science, journalism, and literature.” (See Language Files #15, 16, and 17) Journalists, educators, and lexicographers in the Levant and Egypt made significant contributions during the early decades of the nineteenth century, along with writers such as the Syrian Francis Marrash, whose mid-century book, Ghabat al-Haqq, is considered the forerunner of the modern Arabic novel.
Arab writers were translating European novels such as Paul et Virginie, Les Misérables, Le Comte de Monte Cristo, and were experimenting with new forms such as the novel and short story, reaching their zenith by the mid twentieth century. By the end of the twentieth century, the Nobel Prize for Literature went to an Arab writer for the first time, the Egyptian Nagib Mahfouz, whose body of work includes both novels and short stories. Often compared to Balzac or Dickens, Mahfouz painted intimate portraits of Egyptian society at all levels: rich and poor, middle class families and fellahin, high and low level bureaucrats, as well as the barons and bullies of the inner city neighborhoods of Cairo, the personal dilemmas of men and women, and more. Many of his stories were made into screen plays and produced as successful films and plays for the stage and television.
But Arabic fiction was not the only heir to the march of progress. Arabic poetry, too, began to change. Early poets experimented with subjects that went well beyond the classical desert themes, religious odes, or encomiums to the powerful. The problems of the contemporary world and Arab society took center stage. Popular poets arose in Egypt such as Hafiz Ibrahim and Ahmad Shawqi, called the Prince of Poets (amir al-shu’ara’), who adopted modern themes and new vocabulary, but followed the traditional metrical conventions (‘arud). But by the middle of the twentieth century, poets were experimenting with prose poems (al-shi’r al-manthur) and provocative themes. Revolutionary in both subject as well as form, the new poets sought to provoke social and political change. After World War II the tammuziyun group of poets arose in the Levant and Iraq. They introduced a new perspective on tradition by calling themselves after Tammuz, one of the ancient Mesopotamian gods, and by invoking revolutionary themes criticizing the foreign colonial authorities and their Arab collaborators.
Other creative voices arose throughout the latter half of the twentieth century. The Syrian poet and literary critic Adonis (‘Ali Ahmed Said) founded a literary journal, Mawakif, which addressed controversial themes in Arab society, and in works such as his Al-Thabit wa-l-Mutahawwil (Stagnation and Transformation), Adonis drew attention to the need for radical change in literary values and in society. His compatriot, poet Nizar Qabbani, while known chiefly for his poetry of love, also sharply criticized political elites and satirized them as hypocrites, pointing out contradictions between what they professed domestically, and their positions in foreign affairs.
Today Arabic literature, long and short fiction as well as poetry, continues to flourish and to please and inspire audiences in Arab societies enriching both the Arabic language and the humanities worldwide.
13 August 2013
It all started with the Word…
Language File #21: The Case of Showcasing Shari’ah.
Did you know… that the term shari’ah means literally, “the path to the watering place”? The connotation is that it is the pathway to salvation, to true faith. The Qur’an mentions “shari’ah” only once, and in that verse contrasts it with hawa (whim, capricious desire.)[1] Islamic scholars point out that the verse predates the development of codified law in Islam, and, therefore, shari’ah should properly be regarded as encompassing more than the legal domain. They would say that shari’ah refers to the right road to religious faith, as opposed to whim or disbelief, but would agree that the legal dimension has become a major aspect of shari’ah’ s concern for establishing justice. In subsequent issues of the Language Sleuth we will examine some basic notions about the development of shari’ah over time and its role in contemporary Muslim societies.
Since shari’ah encompasses Muslim religion in the broadest sense, its rules apply to both devotional and societal behavior. The former are referred to as ‘ibadat (religious obligations), the latter as mu’amalat (civil transactions). The ‘ibadat are considered to be obligations owed to the Deity and a matter between the individual and God, while mu’amalat are the relations among persons in the community and, therefore, the concern of jurisprudence.
As to the question of the sources of law, these are referred to in Islam as usul ul-fiqh, and the traditional usul over which there is virtually no controversy are the Qur’an (as holy text); the Sunnah (the behavior of the Prophet along with authentic hadith, or sayings of the Prophet); ijma’ (consensus of the devout or righteous community); ra’y (learned opinion); and qiyas (analogy in deriving judgments from principles). Some ulama (Islamic scholars) have argued that there is another process involved, that of ijtihad or the use of human reasoning to determine legal principles, and go on to assert that determinations arrived at through ra’y, qiyas and ijma’ are in themselves the results of ijtihad.
While the revealed sources of Qur’an and Sunnah are held to be irrefutable, ra’y is considered out of bounds today being solely the prerogative of revered early scholars. And some madhahib (schools of law) as well as ulama past and present have challenged the extent to which ijtihad might validly be applied, if at all, to the determination of law. Recognized as a valid method early in Islam, jurists claimed that ijtihad was no longer an option for later generations. For these opponents, the maxim became, “bab al-ijtihad mughlaq, the door of ijtihad is closed.” Around the later 15th century CE Sunni scholars declared that all legal matters had been addressed and that ijtihad was no longer available to jurists. Instead, taqlid (imitation of precedent) became the approved method for jurisprudence. Modernists among Islamic jurists insist that the door of ijtihad must be reopened if the shari’ah is to become a viable system of law in contemporary Muslim society.
In our next issues we will explore some of the implications of “opening the door of ijtihad,” and examine some of the opportunities as well the problems of adapting shari’ah to the circumstances and realities of a modern society.
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[1] Al-Jathiyah, v. 18.
It all started with the Word…
Language File #22: The Case of Unfolding Fiqh.
Did you know… although the text of Islamic Law stipulates certain rights for women, in practical terms those rights have often been ignored in favor of patriarchal privilege? But today in Western countries of the Muslim diaspora as well as in some Muslim majority countries, Islamic Law is evolving new approaches to preserving women’s rights. Muslim women and their advocates in modern societies are working to adapt the principles found in Islamic jurisprudence (fiqh) to the requirements of contemporary life—a modern example of the practice of ijtihad (see previous discussion in #21 Shari’a Law). That work is putting new vigor into the project of Islamic Law in the service of Muslim women in today’s world.[1]
One of the most promising areas for progress has been the development of modern interpretations of the laws pertaining to divorce. As the Muslim population has grown in countries that previously had few Muslim citizens, lawyers counseling those citizens have been forced to research Islamic divorce procedures both historically and in current practice seeking aspects of sacred texts and fiqh that support modern approaches to equitable divorce. Traditionally interpreted heavily in favor of the husband, spousal rights in divorce cases have been getting a closer review by Muslim scholars, lawyers and laymen alike, and the attitude of many is that both scripture and laws can be referenced profitably in defense of women’s rights in accordance with the needs of contemporary society.
Divorce settlements in U. S. courts, for example, take into account the marriage contract, whether concluded in a Muslim country or elsewhere, and consult the provisions agreed to in respect of dowry arrangements (mahr) including the postponed dowry (mahr mu’akhar) to which the wife is entitled in the event of a divorce. Other stipulations may be recognized, too, such as living conditions, spousal duties, and foregoing plural marriage (dirr).
In subsequent issues we will explore some of the implications of “opening the door of ijtihad,” and examine some of the opportunities as well as the problems of adapting the principles of shari’ah to the circumstances and realities of a modern society.
15 January 2014
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[1] For more on how Muslim women are leading this effort, see the work of Zainah Anwar, founder of Sisters in Islam (SIS) in Kuala Lumpur in 2009. Ms. Anwar has fully embraced the compatibility of Islamic law with equitable treatment of women, and her organization works to bring that about. Website: http://www.wluml.org
Richard L. Marrash 