“There was a time when our people covered the land as the waves of a wind… but that time long since passed away with the greatness of tribes that are now but a mournful memory.”
–Attributed to Chief Seattle

Controversy surrounds the speech Chief Seattle delivered in 1855 during a land treaty negotiation with Governor Issac Stevens.  On one hand, we worship Seattle’s eloquent words for their unique insight on the Native American perspective.  On the other hand, debate rages over the authenticity of the speech’s only existing recording, a reproduction produced by Dr. Henry Smith thirty years after the event. Many facts about Smith’s situation still remain clouded.

Despite the mystery surrounding this famous speech, its contents can be understood in terms of what Mary Louis Pratt calls a “contact zone.”  In Pratt’s article “Arts of the Contact Zone,” she introduces this zone as the chaotic space in which cultures collide.  Essential features of the contact zone include autoethnography, the representation of one’s own culture that responds to representations made by others, and transculturation, the selective absorption of the dominant culture by a marginal group.  These features of autoethnography and transculturation emerge prominently in Chief Seattle’s speech, shedding more insight on the interactions between the Native Americans and the Euro-Americans; however, in the context of the unique circumstances surrounding the text, Seattle’s speech ultimately demonstrates the inherent dangers of representation and misrepresentation in the contact zone.

Under the assumption that Smith’s recreation of the speech accurately translates Chief Seattle’s original speech, the text qualifies as an autoethnography of the Native American people. Pratt describes, “autoethnographic texts are representations that the so-defined others construct in response to or in dialogue with [ethnographic texts]” (588).  As Chief Seattle’s speech originally addressed Governor Issac Stevens, Seattle claimed the rare opportunity to address Euro-American representations of American Indians.

Traditional Euro-American representations of the American Indians consistently degraded them to the level of “savages.”   From the beginning of their contact, Europeans contrasted their civilization with the savageness of the Indians.  In 1604, while blaming the Indians for introducing “the corrupt baseness” of smoking to Europe, King James sarcastically asked:

What honor or policy can move us to imitate the barbarous and beastly manners of the wild, godless, and slavish Indians?… Why do we not as well imitate them in walking naked as they do?… Why do we not deny God and adore the Devil as they do? (Vaughan 60)

This view of the beastly, godless, and devil-worshipping nature of the Indians continued for a vast part of the contact, shaping the violent interactions between the natives and the settlers.  This view also led to the notion that the Native Americans had no claim to the land. In a sermon given by Robert Gray, he asserted, “The Lord hath given the earth to the children of men, yet the greater part of it is… wrongfully usurped by wild beasts…by reason of their godless ignorance” (Vaughan 61).  The continual claiming of Indian land, even to the time of the Chief Seattle’s land negotiation with Governor Stevens in Washington, demonstrates the widespread acceptance of Gray’s view among the Euro-Americans.  In his speech, Chief Seattle counters these Euro-American representations of the Native Americans. In response to the portrayals of savageness and godlessness, he emphasizes the nobility and religiousness of his people.

In particular, Chief Seattle condemns the violence that occurred between the two races and elevates his people above the mutual savagery. Seattle acknowledges the involvement of his race in the statement, “Youth is impulsive. When our young men grow angry… they are often cruel and relentless, and our old men and old women are unable to restrain them” (520).   However, he carefully creates the distinction between the “impulsive” youth and the wiser “old men and old women” who wish for peace, displaying the complexity within Indian society. Chief Seattle also points out that the Euro-Americans were equally at fault for the violence.  He refers to the time “when the white man began to push our forefathers ever westward” and how his “paleface brothers [hastened] our untimely decay” (521). While acknowledging the violence, Seattle suggests that his “paleface brothers” were the true savages who slaughtered vast numbers of Indians during the westward push.  Meanwhile, Seattle expresses his “hope that the hostilities… never return” (520), given the extent that they have hurt his people. In doing so, he completes the reversal of representations; the Euro-Americans are the barbarians waging war while the Natives are the victims begging for peace.

Chief Seattle also responds to the charge of “godlessness” circulated by the conquerors by comparing his religion with Christianity. He exclaims,

Your God is not our God! Your God loves your people and hates mine! … If we have a common Heavenly Father He must be partial, for He came to His paleface children. We never saw Him. He gave you laws but had no word for His red children… (521)

These statements highlight the absurdity of expecting the American Indians, having been isolated from the Europeans for thousands of years, to have adopted the same religion.  In place of Christianity, Seattle introduces the religion of his people: “Our religion is the tradition of our ancestors… ” (521). He points out several areas in which his religion is superior to Christianity.  He says, “Your religion was written upon tablets of stone… so that you could not forget… Our religion… is written in the hearts of our people” (521). Similarly, “Your dead cease to love you… Our dead never forget this beautiful world that gave them being” (521).   These comparisons pose a direct challenge to the earlier portrayals of the Indians as godless and devil-worshiping. Furthermore, Chief Seattle also responds to the Euro-American belief that the Indians had no claim to the land by expressing their profound attachment to it. He declares, “The very dust upon which you now stand responds more lovingly to [our] footsteps than yours, because it is rich with the blood of our ancestors (521).”  In direct opposition with Euro-American representations, Seattle demonstrates that the Natives, like the Europeans, have a complex religion and culture.

Continuing with the assumption that Smith’s recreation of the speech was accurate, we find that in addition to being an autoethnographic text, the speech has elements of transculturation, another essential component of the contact zone.  Pratt defines transculturation as “processes whereby members of marginal groups select and invent from materials transmitted by a dominant or metropolitan culture” (591).  Although Seattle tended to emphasize the differences between Native Americans and Euro-Americans, the Euro-American idea that the Native Americans were going to become extinct surfaced throughout his speech.

This idea of the inevitable extinction of the Native Americans as a race originated from the colonists. According to Colin Calloway, “The idea of a doomed race on its way to extinction took root as early as the 1600s and was well established by the nineteenth century in the pages of U.S. history texts” (Ring 179).  This idea served the colonists quite conveniently.  It justified what Ring calls the “transfer of real estate,” the process in which European settlers gradually moved into established Indian communities as the Indians “disappeared” (Ring 179). Apparently, killing and stealing from an already-doomed race was easier to accept.

Throughout his speech, Chief Seattle indicates his acceptance of this belief that the Native Americans would become extinct. He refers to their “untimely decay” and laments, “It matters little where we pass the remnant of our days. They will not be many” (522), although he does not provide any concrete reasons for these sentiments.  Instead, Seattle settles with the warning, “When the last Red Man shall have perished… these shores will throng with the invisible dead of my tribe… The White Man will never be alone” (523). In accepting the ultimate defeat of the Indians, Chief Seattle adopted an element of the dominant, Euro-American thought, demonstrating the transculturation that Pratt predicts.

While the contents of Chief Seattle’s speech, as recreated by Dr. Smith, demonstrate both autoethnography and transculturation in a contact zone, their presence alone does not confirm the authenticity of the speech.  In fact, numerous historical details question its legitimacy. Considering, for instance, that the original speech was given in Lushotseed, translated in Chinook Jargon a language with around 300 words) and then into English from thirty-year-old notes (Clark par. 13), we should view the speech with at least some degree of suspicion.   In fact, Dr. Smith admits in the publication that his version fails to reproduce Seattle’s exact statements (Chief Seattle 519).   The results of a detailed study by Jerry Clark at the National Archives and Records Administration also challenge the authenticity of the text. Clark states,

The lack of a Duwimish-language text of the speech, the absence of notes by Dr. Smith, the silence on the part of persons known to have been present…, and the failure of the speech to appear in the official treaty proceedings create grave doubts… (par. 18)

In addition to a lack of historical evidence, an analysis of the Chief Seattle himself also casts doubts on the very existence of the speech. The only two paragraphs of Chief Seattle statements on the official record present him as compliant and reserved: at one point, Seattle says, “My mind is like yours, I don’t want to say more” (Clark par. 15).   William Abruzzi suggests that Seattle was selected for the negotiation over local leaders precisely because he demonstrated this allegiance, not opposition (44).  This picture of Chief Seattle, which sharply contrasts the forceful, passionate tone of Smith’s text, suggests that the speech produced by Dr. Smith may not have taken place at all.

Regardless of the final verdict on the authenticity of Seattle’s speech, it is safe to conclude that Dr. Smith played at least a significant role in the formation of Chief Seattle’s speech.  As Dr. Smith belongs the dominant culture, the speech can no longer be considered as a pure autoethnographic text; elements of ethnography inevitably contaminate the speech.   The transculturation present in the speech suffers a similar fate; we can no longer take Chief Seattle’s acceptance of the extinction of the Indians as an actual absorption of dominant material by a marginal group.  Indeed, the speech itself can be considered as an instance of what I propose to call pseudoautoethnography, an autoethnography presented through the filter of members of the dominant group.   A pseudoautoethnographic text attempts to represent both the dominant and marginal cultures, but it cannot be considered as a true response to dominant representations; it becomes, in itself, a component of the dominant representation of both cultures.

Pseudoautoethnography, as in the case of Chief Seattle’s speech, comes with the danger of masking the true perspectives of marginal groups in favor of dominant interests.  Abruzzi asserts, “Throughout American history, whites have fabricated Indians into images that served their own interests” (44).  While the image of Indians as a race of “savages” doomed for extinction undoubtedly aligned with the interests of the colonists, Chief Seattle’s speech involves newer interests:

With the growth of large environmental and countercultural New Age movements, a new Indian image has emerged. Native Americans have become the repositories of a traditional wisdom to those challenging institutionalized beliefs… (Abruzzi 44).

These movements use the image of Indians to achieve their goals, and, in doing so they distort the original perspective of the Native Americans. Abruzzi also notes:

Significantly, each new version of Seattle’s speech, beginning with that of Dr. Henry Smith and ending with the latest reincarnation of Ted Perry’s script, has been created entirely by non-Indians. Not one Native peoples has translated Seattle’s speech into their own indigenous language (44).

Crucially missing in this exchange is the attempt to address both metropolitan and marginalized audiences that Pratt discusses (588). The true interests of the Native Americans become lost as Euro-American culture continues to fabricate images of Native Americans through figures like Chief Seattle.

In sum, while autoethnography and transculturation offer valuable insights into cultures and their interactions, we must also remain wary of misrepresentation in the contact zone. Chief Seattle’s speech appears to shed valuable light on Native American reactions to the representations of the Euro-Americans, but the increasingly larger role that Dr. Smith is believed to have played in the production of the speech challenges the validity of those reactions. Especially considering the potential for pseudoautoethnography to serve dominant interests, we must continually question imagery associated with other cultures. Perhaps then, one day, we can begin to understand Chief Seattle’s real message.

Works Cited

Abruzzi, William. “The real Chief Seattle was not a spiritual ecologist.” Skeptical Inquirer. Mar-Apr 1999: 44+. Expanded Academic Index.

Chief Seattle. “Speech to Governor Isaac Stevens of the Washington Territory, 1855.” Seattle Sunday Star, Oct. 29, 1887. Rpt in The Radical Reader. Ed. McCarthy, Timothy. New York: New York Press, 2003.

Clark, Jerry. “Thus Spoke Chief Seattle: The Story of An Undocumented Speech.” National Archives and Records Administration. Mar 15, 2005 http://www.archives.gov/publications/prologue/spring_1985_chief_seattle.html.

Low, Dennis. “Contemporary Reinvention of Chief Seattle.” American Indian Quarterly Summer 1995: 407-420.

Pratt, Louis Mary. “Arts of the Contact Zone.” Reading Context. Ed. Gail Stygall. Boston: Thomson Wadsworth, 1995.

Ring, Phyllis. “Invisible No More – Native Americans of the Northeast have Eluded Extinction.” World and I Oct 2001: 179+. Expanded Academic Index.

Vaughan, Alden. “Expulsion of the Savages.” The William and Mary Quarterly Jan. 1978: 57-84.

In her essay, “Arts of the Contact Zone,” Mary Louise Pratt defines the contact zone as “[ . . . ] social spaces where cultures meet, clash, and grapple with each other, often in contexts of highly asymmetrical power [ . . . ]” (Pratt 575).  It can be a dangerous place, where people are easily misunderstood and hurt.  It can also be a place of mutual understanding, new wisdom, and the wonder that comes when people learn from each other.  Because the contact zone is so unpredictable, Pratt also talks about the need for places where people can retreat from the contact zone and feel safe.  She calls these places “safe houses” and uses the term to “[ . . . ] refer to social and intellectual spaces where groups can constitute themselves as horizontal, homogeneous, sovereign communities with high degrees of trust, shared understandings, temporary protection from legacies of oppression” (Pratt 586).  However, this idea of “safe houses” is not unique to Pratt.  Gloria Anzaldúa is an American Chicano writer, whose essay, “How to Tame a Wild Tongue,” also implies the need for places of shared understanding.  Anzaldúa and Pratt both recognize the need for safe houses.  However, Pratt believes that they can be formed inherently within a culture, and so fails to recognize their complexities, where as, Anzaldúa takes these complexities into account, and would argue that a common cultural heritage does not inherently create a safe house.

In her essay, Pratt describes the contact zone as being a place of many emotions.  It is a dangerous place, where people can get hurt and miscomprehension is common. She talks about the, “rage, incomprehension, and pain,” of the contact zone, but she also mentions the “moments of wonder and revelation, mutual understanding, and new wisdom” that can also occur in the contact zone (Pratt 586). Because the contact zone is a place of such emotional turmoil, Pratt also stresses the need for “safe houses.”  She states that after being in the contact zone, “[ . . . ] groups need places for hearing and mutual recognition, safe houses in which to construct shared understandings, knowledges, claims on the world that they can then bring into the contact zone” (Pratt 587).  Safe houses are places where a person can be with people they share an identity with. People can go there and not feel threatened, and may share their experience within the contact zone with those who can empathize and have had similar experiences.  Being in a safe house can reaffirm who you are, so you have the strength to go back into the contact zone, certain of what you represent.  Safe houses give people a place to work out and understand things in a safe environment.

One could argue that Gloria Anzaldúa is a product of the contact zone, a combination of two cultures.  She comes from what she calls “the borderlands.” When describing herself, she says, “I am a border woman. I grew up between two cultures, the Mexican (with heavy Indian influence) and the Anglo (as a member of a colonized people in our own territory).  I have been straddling that tejas-Mexican boarder, and others, all my life” (“Preface”).  She understands the complexities of the contact zone because she lives with them everyday of her life. In her essay, “How to Tame a Wild Tongue” she talks about the experience of the contact zone through language in modern America.  She tells us that, “[e]thnic identity is twin to linguistic identity” and even goes so far to say that “I am my language” (“How to Tame” 46).  She sees linguistic heritage as the same as cultural heritage.  For Anzaldúa, they are inseparable. Anzaldúa speaks what she calls Chicano Spanish, or Tex-Mex, as her native tongue. Chicano Spanish is not Standard Mexican Spanish.   It developed, “after 250 years of Spanish/Anglo colonization” and has many differences from Standard Spanish, which she describes in her essay (Anzaldúa 44). For example, some words from Spanish have been distorted by English, causing Chicano Spanish to sometimes be called “Spanglish” (Anzaldúa 45).  Because this language is not entirely Spanish or English, Anzaldúa finds herself at odds with both communities.  While talking about her experience, Anzaldúa implies the need for a space similar to the one Pratt talks about, a “safe house.”  She says that “[u]ntil [she] can accept as legitimate Chicano Texas Spanish, Tex-Mex, and all the other languages [she] speak[s], [she] cannot accept the legitimacy of [her]self” (Anzaldúa 46).  Anzaldúa needs to have her language (and so her cultural identity) legitimized in order to be able to fully accept herself. She needs a place where she is accepted as she is, a safe house.

Pratt seems to take it for granted that a safe house exists where those people of a similar background come together.  She makes no mention of needing to find or create a safe house, simply that they are needed where there are legacies of subordination (Pratt 587). It almost seems as if safe houses are an after thought in her essay.  She introduces the concept in a small paragraph that is second to last in her essay. She states that they are important, and are needed, but seems to take it for granted that they will be there for people who are caught in the contact zone.  Anzaldúa also feels that safe houses are important, but she points out in her essay the problems involved in finding them. She states that in the case of Chicanos, “our language has been used against us by the dominate culture, [and] we use our language differences against each other” (Anzaldúa 45).  She talks about how her own people have not yet learned how to be a safe house for each other.  She uses the example of how “Chicana feminists often skirt around each other with suspicion and hesitation” (Anzaldúa 45). She notes that, “[e]ven among Chicanas we tend to speak English at parties or conferences” (Anzaldúa 46).  In this way, she shows how she doesn’t have a safe house among her own people. Even her own mother was not really a safe house for her linguistic and cultural identity, for her mother was “mortified that [she] spoke English like a Mexican” (Anzaldúa 41).  The common heritage and language shared by all of her people is not enough to form a safe house.

Anzaldúa then addresses the question of why she cannot find a safe house within her own people.  She realizes that, “[t]o be close to another Chicana is like looking into the mirror.  We are afraid of what we’ll see there.  Pena.  Shame” (Anzaldúa 46).  This shame ultimately comes from always being told that her language, and so her culture is wrong. She is told this both by her own community as well as the dominant culture. She notes that, “in childhood we are told that our language is wrong. Repeated attacks on our native tongue diminish our sense of self” (Anzaldúa 46).  She remembers being punished in elementary school for speaking Spanish at recess, because her language was not accepted by the dominant Anglo culture controlling the school (Anzaldúa 41). However, she also recalls being called a “cultural traitor” by other Latinos and Latinas for speaking English.  Her native language, Chicano Spanish, is, “considered by the purist and by most Latinos deficient, a mutilation of Spanish” (Anzaldúa 42).  So she cannot linguistically fit into either culture, for they both see her own language as “wrong” in some way.  Because Anzaldúa views cultural identity as the same as linguistic identity, she feels this rejection of her language is also a rejection of herself and her culture.  It is this sort of oppression on all sides that causes the “Shame” she refers to.

In her essay, Pratt uses the concept of safe houses as evidence for why universities should not seek to replace ethnic or women’s studies with other classes (Pratt 586).  She states that these classes are safe houses, and as so, need to be protected.  Anzaldúa points out that merely bringing people of similar background together may not be enough to form a safe house. However, Pratt would still stand by her support of ethnic and women’s studies even after taking Anzaldúa’s argument into account.  While Pratt may no longer view these classes as “complete” safe houses, she would argue that they still offer some, if not complete, protection from the contact zone. In this case, Pratt would argue that some protection is better than none.  She would also point out that while Anzaldúa’s experiences shed important new light on the idea of safe houses, they are only the experience of one woman in one culture, and it can’t be assumed that she speaks for all those who are in need of a safe house.

While both Pratt and Anzaldúa talk about safe houses and the need for them, Anzaldúa seems to have a deeper understanding of what it takes to make and maintain a safe house.  Pratt seems to take them for granted almost, where as Anzaldúa must deal with the problems of not having one.  Because Pratt assumes that sharing a common cultural background with a group will inherently create a safe house, she underestimates the complexities that can arise within one culture in and of itself.  In this case, some of the complexities that prevent Chicanos from forming a safe house are a product of the contact zone itself.  The pressure put on Chicanos from both sides of this “cultural clash” can make them feel that they do not belong to either the Spanish or the Anglo culture. As Anzaldúa states in her essay, “we don’t identify with the Anglo-American cultural values and we don’t totally identify with the Mexican cultural values. We are a synergy of two cultures with various degrees of Mexicanness of Angloness” (Anzaldúa 50).  This dual identity causes conflict within the Chicano culture to the point where Anzaldúa says, “sometimes I feel like one cancels out the other and we are zero, nothing, no one” (Anzaldúa 50).  Pratt’s essay does not recognize the far reaching effect of the contact zone into this culture’s very heart.  For Chicanos, “the struggle of identities continues, the struggle of boarders is our reality still” (Anzaldúa 50).  By the recognition of this dilemma Anzaldúa recognizes the complex reality of the safe house, and takes our own understanding of it to a new level.

Works Cited

Anzaldúa, Gloria. “How to Tame a Wild Tongue.” Academic Discourse: Readings for Argument and Analysis. Ed. Gail Stygall. Fort Worth: Harcourt College Publishers, 2000. 41-51.

Anzaldúa, Gloria. “Preface.” Borderlands/La Frontera: The New Mestiza. San Francisco: Aunt Lute, 1987.

Pratt, Mary Louise. “Arts of the Contact Zone.” Academic Discourse: Readings for Argument and Analysis. Ed. Gail Stygall. Fort Worth: Harcourt College Publishers, 2000. 573-587.

In the past and to this day, the Indian culture has been under the constant influence of the western world.  This influence that was first welcomed is now slowly but surely becoming a threat to the survival of the Indian cultural beliefs.  The magnitude of this influence encompasses from the entertainment industry to traditional family values.  Some Indians call this influence an unwanted change and term it as a cultural genocide.  They believe with the introduction of this genocide our rich ancient culture is at stake. Mary Louise Pratt, author of the article “Arts of the Contact Zone,” terms the process by which this unwanted change is introduced in a culture as a “contact zone.” She defines this term as [ . . . ] “social spaces where cultures meet, clash, and grapple with each other, often in contexts of highly asymmetrical relations of power” [ . . . ] (Pratt 575).  This social space created by the clash of two or more cultures tends to engulf the subordinate culture by the culture in authority and dominance, leaving the subordinate culture vulnerable to extinction. I fear the extinction of these subordinate cultures and believe that the contact zone in India enables the dominant Western culture to diminish and inhibit the growth of traditional Indian and other minority cultures.

The contact zone was created in India the minute the Indian sub-continent came under the British rule.  In the beginning of the 17th century the British entered India and engaged in peaceful trading.  Being motivated by Imperialism the British then began annexing states and transferred the Indian Economy to Colonial British Economy.  After draining away tons of Indian Gold, wealth and resources, the British finally left India and declared it independent in 1947.  But before leaving our country the British left their imprints and invaded our rich culture by introducing this unwanted genocide.  The unwanted genocide is still stained in our culture and is becoming a threat to our cultures survival. The results of this contact zone can be noticed in many regions of our culture especially in our music, language, films and family traditions.

Born and raised in India, a country known for its rich culture and heritage, I have witnessed and experienced the effect and influence the dominant western world has played on my culture and its members.  This influence forces me to believe with a passionate, unshakeable conviction that in all circumstances and at all times, this world is designed for the ones in power, who knowingly or unknowingly shape the structure, culture and lifestyle of the ones in the subordinate.  Since culture is defined by The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language as “the transmission of social behavior and patterns, for instance in art, music, beliefs, institutions and all other products of human work and thought, from one generation to another,” we often notice the replication of the culture in dominance by the ones in the subordinate. This replication in this modern world with a country’s past historical influence and background takes place even faster.  In India, I feel this change is occurring at a tremendous speed not only in the area of films, music and language but in our beliefs and traditions our culture tries to promote.

The Indian film industry, called ‘Bollywood,’ in spite of being the largest film industry in the world indicates a western character from its very name.  The name suggests modelling after, the Western film industry, ‘Hollywood’ as it is only the alphabet ‘B’ that makes it non-western.  The magnitude of western influence on this industry is unimaginable. Most of the Indian films are an absolute copy of Western movies and ideas. Western violence and action with the Indian touch is the basic theme for all of them.  Our country’s rich culture and heritage is no longer portrayed through our movies, making our culture vulnerable to being lost, and reflecting the strong influence of the contact zone.

Music, an area that we were initially proud of for our originality and diversity, is now attaining a Western character and is getting completely engulfed with the Western rhythm and style.  Eminent music composers like Bally Sagoo have a strong reputation of converting old Indian songs to its Western Alternatives.  On the other hand Singers like Devang Patel remix Western rap to its Indian alternative. This conversion is truly evident in his latest album ‘Patel Scope,’ where he’s managed to sing songs like Macarena and Coco jambo in the Indian language (Hindi). In the past, there were talks of putting restrictions on foreign television channels beaming Western music with intentions of countering cultural invasion. To the relief of most, the majority decided against these resolutions. However, at present, our cultural music is in danger and is feared of becoming extinct.  It is of no surprise that Naushad Ali, a distinguished Indian music composer; in a television interview said “A time will come when Indians will have to rush to San Francisco if they want to learn Indian music” (Dhadkan 40).  There indeed might be a touch of exaggeration in this statement, but when a person of Naushad Ali’s reputation gives vent to such fear, it certainly means that there is a need for introspection and consideration. A threat to the survival of our cultures celestial and divine music is felt and there is certainly fear for its extinction.

Furthermore, the diversity of our language is another region that is feared of becoming extinct.  In India, eighteen languages are recognized by the constitution of India and there are over one thousand six hundred minor languages and dialects listed in the latest census (Travel India par 1).   Each community and part of India has its own local language, which is endangered when it is not spoken by their children. These languages become even more difficult to preserve when the importance of the English Language is emphasized in this modern world. Since most schools in India are not ‘authorized’ to teach local languages by institutions of school, business or governments.  They don’t give much importance to the teaching of these local languages and have their curriculum based on English or the national language Hindi.  As a result, these local languages are struggling to survive.

Preservation of these languages plays an important role not only in the survival of ancient culture, but it teaches values, beliefs and understanding of a person’s origin.  Language represents a culture’s wisdom and helps understand and interpret certain significant historical events.  They have been created with a lot of effort by our ancestors and have survived to this era with great difficulty; its loss would create an intellectual calamity to ancient knowledge and would soon lead to the extinction of an entire culture. Rebecca Tuhus-Dubrow in her article “World’s Languages are fast disappearing” says:

Hundreds of languages have gone the way of the do-do bird, and thousands more are in the precarious position of the spotted owl. Many more cannot even be mourned, since, like countless species, they have evolved and vanished without leaving any record of their existence (par 1).

Intellectual property that has been created with great difficulty is getting lost in this modern world, without even getting noticed and leaving any trace of its very existence.  This gives us humans all the more reasons to take concrete steps for the preservation of various languages that will enable us to understand and interpret our past.

But the area where this cultural conflict has affected us the most is in the cultivation of family values and the maintaining of strong family bonds.  In India, most families are close-knit, and adult brothers, with their families, usually live together under one roof. The elders take great pains to instill good values and ethics in the younger generation, resulting in strong bonds and a sense of security. The blending of relationship between the families of brothers can be compared to the addition of sugar to water.  Though sugar looses its identity when added to water, it adds sweetness to water.  This sweetness is more desirable and indicates the strong unity and affection between two families.  But in recent years, with increased western influence, it has been noticed that families prefer to live separately and follow the western way of life.  They find it difficult to follow the tradition of their ancestors and instead maintain their distance from each other.  As a result, families are disintegrating reflecting another result of the contact zone, where the western culture is shaping the lives and lifestyles of the Indian people.

Like India other nations with their unique cultures also fear the extinction of their ancient cultures.  His Holiness the Dalai Lama in an exclusive interview with Professor Robert A. F. Thurman in “The Real Politik of Spirituality” said:

Today Tibet, with its unique cultural heritage, which incorporates Buddhist spirituality, is truly facing the threat of extinction. Whether intentionally or unintentionally, some kind of cultural genocide is taking place. Time is running out (par 1).

Not only is the Indian culture undergoing a transformation and facing the threat of extinction, but also other cultures are experiencing the same problem.  I often wonder in this era, where dominance and authority is the key to preservation and survival, if our culture and all the other cultures in the minority will exist a couple of hundred years from now?  Will the future generation truly understand our rich culture and the importance of it?  Will the past glory of our ancestors be preserved?

This fear of extinction often leads me to question why people in the subordinate culture should go through this extreme loss of their ancient and beautiful culture; why should they live with this fear of their culture’s extinction and termination?  Just because they are a minority does not mean that they must forfeit something so special and close to them.  They still do have the fundamental right to live the way they want, speak the language they want and have their children and grandchildren follow the same tradition and beliefs they did.  Each culture is associated with its own wisdom and uniqueness, and gives a person a unique identity.  Preservation of these diverse cultures will not only help support the minority in upholding what’s theirs but will also help preserve their sense of identity and ancient pride.

Works Cited

Pratt, Mary Louise. “Arts of the Contact Zone.” Academic Discourse: Readings for Argument and Analysis. 2nd ed. Ed. Gail Stygall. Harcourt College Publishers, 2000. 573-588.

Tuhus-Dubrow, Rebecca. “World’s Languages Are Fast Disappearing.” 4 May 2002. <http://www.globalpolicy.org/globaliz/cultural/>

Thurman, Robert A.F. “The Real Politik Of Spirituality” 5 May 2002. <http://www.dharma-haven.org/tibetan/preserving-culture.htm>

Ali, Naushad. “Dhadkan” 5 May 2002. <http://www.dhadkan. com/cgi-bin/dhadkan/features.cgi?jnd=C&featureID=40>

Language census. “Travel India” 13 May 2002. <http:// travel.indiamart.com/languages/>

Pre-Independence “British Rule in India” 31 May, 2002. <http://www.pakavenue.com/webdigest/history/pre_independence_002.htm>