Lost without translation

Sense of loss I felt was not about missing out on beauty of art and creativity, but our own ignorance

About a few hundred meters from Tahrir Square is the American University of Cairo (AUC) bookstore. It is on the old campus in the city, nested behind tall palm trees, on the right side of a beautiful garden. Friends had told me that it should be on my must-visit list. A strong collection of classics like Mahfouz in Arabic and English, along with authors from all over the region and beyond ,graced the walls. The bookseller was patient and extremely helpful and I made full use of the fact that I was the only customer early morning at the bookshop on the first day it opened after the Eid break.

AUC has its own press, and has become the go-to place for not just academic publishing in the region, but also has done an outstanding job translating the works of both the towering figures and new authors from all over the Arab world from Oman to Morocco and everything in between.

Many AUC press books were affordable and significantly cheaper than the academic presses in US or Europe. The quality was on a par with the best publishers anywhere in the world. The fact that Pakistan does not have any reliable university press from our own universities is inexcusable. I personally know at least one university that has tried hard to create its own press — but I have been hearing “will happen soon” stories for nearly a decade. Before colleagues say that our universities are much younger than AUC, let me remind them that when AUC was established in 1919, Punjab University was nearly 40 years’ old, and GC Lahore had already seen the first half century of its existence. The issue is not age, it is priority and commitment. AUC is not the largest press in the world, but it fills a critical void in scholarship, research, literature and culture. We choose to live in a void.

As I browsed through the books and did a calculation in my head on how many books can I squeeze into my suitcase, I realised a tremendous sense of loss. Like myself, many of my family and friends are completely ignorant when it comes to the rich literature in Arabic. Some may have heard about Mahfouz (probably because of his Nobel prize, not because he was already famous in the entire Arab world well before), or may have read him much later in life as I did. But the vast majority is unfamiliar with the rich story telling coming from the entire Arab world. This is largely because the works of Arab authors are not available in Urdu.

With a general unfamiliarity with languages other than Urdu and English, and lack of interest (or opportunity) to learn another language, translation is our only viable option. However, the national effort in translation remains nascent (with one or two notable, but young efforts). Furthermore, the translation efforts are almost exclusive to English. Contemporary Arabic literature is absent, so is Persian, Spanish, Portuguese, French and nearly every other language spoken in low and middle income countries of Asia, Africa and South America.

The sense of loss I felt was not just about missing out on the beauty of art and creativity coming from these lands, but our own general ignorance. In the last few years, many in the country have spoken passionately about decolonisation. Some have been genuine and impressive, others have been using it because it sounds cool or creates an opportunity to concoct a new conspiracy theory about a grand plan hatched in the shadows of a glittery capital. Yet — despite all of this, little effort has been made to educate ourselves about the reflections of people who have stood up to the colonisers and continue to do so every day. I am not sure how many books of Palestinian authors are available in Urdu, or how many Algerian authors are we familiar with. The sense of solidarity would benefit a lot more from reading than flag-waving or face-painting every time there is injustice in the Middle East and beyond.

Published in The Express Tribune, May 10^th, 2022.

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