Faahiye
Male Male Male Male
Interesting read
Standard Language Ideology
Born out of this moment in Somali history then is our version of the standard language ideology. The concept that somewhere out there is the unadulterated, untouched, pure Somali. Before this, every tribal group or community had understood their own dialect as the most pure. But this was state-backed bias. Everything the old regime did pointed to this being the northern dialect. It didn’t happen by accident. Uniformity was imposed, even if it meant the erasure of the cultures of hundreds of thousands of people. The other really important point that needs to be understood is that Barre’s standardization was not value-neutral, even if his supporters argue otherwise. This was about establishing an order of prestige, with the northern dialect as the most Somali, and everything else as being less Somali. And once national myths were firmly in place, this prestige would translate into competition amongst citizens.
Standardization is never value-neutral. It wasn’t in Spain when Castilian Spanish established itself as the norm, nor was it in Italy when Florentine Italian was established as the standard. In both cases, they give much more insight into power dynamics than they do an inherent Italianness, or Spanishness of their respective dialogues.
Us too, the diaspora children, suffer from and contribute to a type of standard language ideology. We tend to imagine a romantic era of the Somali language. A time when we all spoke beautiful Somali. A time when a young man could step outside his Aqal Soomaali, and if he saw a beautiful young woman, he could just open his mouth and beautiful gabay would flow out of his mouth like the biyo of a waterfall. But this, rather than being born out of innocent imagination of Somalia’s yesteryears, it is born out of our anxieties about not being Somali enough. The prestige associated with Barre’s standardization campaign has meant that, like our parents, we have anxieties about how Somali we’re really being when we speak Somali. God forbid we were ever called crappy Somalis for speaking non-standard Northern dialect Somali. You don’t have to take my word for it, try this test:
How many Somali poets do you know? And how many of them are northern?
Symbol of something bigger
National identities are slippery creatures. Dialect spoken by an individual is seen as the signifier of this national identity. In communities where the northern dialect is not spoken, the community’s existence and culture is constantly questioned for how Somali it is. In a video about young Somalis in refugee camps near Baidhoa, someone commented with “arent they somali? so if they are somali why dont they speak somali instead of xabashi”. Because they were speaking af-Maay. Now, that comment might have been inflammatory by design, but it speaks volumes about the general attitude towards minoritized and their dialects. There comes a moment in which we need to start to ask ourselves: is his objection really a linguistic one backed up by thorough academic research, or a general disdain towards these community and their Somaliness? Perhaps both. The latter is infinitely more likely.
There’s a definite level of erasure of these languages and dialects at the national level. Out of the six or seven international Somali broadcast channels, I am yet to find a channel that even attempts to cater to speakers of these dialects. Royal TV, a few years ago, did a single show in Af-Maay, one hour a day. This service has now ceased.
My mother, a speaker of Af-Maay often speaks of her frustration that she is losing her ability to speak her own tongue. She recently told me about seeing her childhood (best) friend in Dubai after some 40 years. They grew up in the same village, just south of Afgoye. Neither one of them spoke Af Maxaa Tiri growing up. When my mother saw her, she spoke to her in Af-Maay. He friend apologetically responded with “I can’t speak it any more”. Hooyo said that sadness overcame her, and that she didn’t know how to respond to what she had been told.
Nobody should be made to forget their own language. If that isn’t systematic violence, I don’t know what is.
Standard Language Ideology
Born out of this moment in Somali history then is our version of the standard language ideology. The concept that somewhere out there is the unadulterated, untouched, pure Somali. Before this, every tribal group or community had understood their own dialect as the most pure. But this was state-backed bias. Everything the old regime did pointed to this being the northern dialect. It didn’t happen by accident. Uniformity was imposed, even if it meant the erasure of the cultures of hundreds of thousands of people. The other really important point that needs to be understood is that Barre’s standardization was not value-neutral, even if his supporters argue otherwise. This was about establishing an order of prestige, with the northern dialect as the most Somali, and everything else as being less Somali. And once national myths were firmly in place, this prestige would translate into competition amongst citizens.
Standardization is never value-neutral. It wasn’t in Spain when Castilian Spanish established itself as the norm, nor was it in Italy when Florentine Italian was established as the standard. In both cases, they give much more insight into power dynamics than they do an inherent Italianness, or Spanishness of their respective dialogues.
Us too, the diaspora children, suffer from and contribute to a type of standard language ideology. We tend to imagine a romantic era of the Somali language. A time when we all spoke beautiful Somali. A time when a young man could step outside his Aqal Soomaali, and if he saw a beautiful young woman, he could just open his mouth and beautiful gabay would flow out of his mouth like the biyo of a waterfall. But this, rather than being born out of innocent imagination of Somalia’s yesteryears, it is born out of our anxieties about not being Somali enough. The prestige associated with Barre’s standardization campaign has meant that, like our parents, we have anxieties about how Somali we’re really being when we speak Somali. God forbid we were ever called crappy Somalis for speaking non-standard Northern dialect Somali. You don’t have to take my word for it, try this test:
How many Somali poets do you know? And how many of them are northern?
Symbol of something bigger
National identities are slippery creatures. Dialect spoken by an individual is seen as the signifier of this national identity. In communities where the northern dialect is not spoken, the community’s existence and culture is constantly questioned for how Somali it is. In a video about young Somalis in refugee camps near Baidhoa, someone commented with “arent they somali? so if they are somali why dont they speak somali instead of xabashi”. Because they were speaking af-Maay. Now, that comment might have been inflammatory by design, but it speaks volumes about the general attitude towards minoritized and their dialects. There comes a moment in which we need to start to ask ourselves: is his objection really a linguistic one backed up by thorough academic research, or a general disdain towards these community and their Somaliness? Perhaps both. The latter is infinitely more likely.
There’s a definite level of erasure of these languages and dialects at the national level. Out of the six or seven international Somali broadcast channels, I am yet to find a channel that even attempts to cater to speakers of these dialects. Royal TV, a few years ago, did a single show in Af-Maay, one hour a day. This service has now ceased.
My mother, a speaker of Af-Maay often speaks of her frustration that she is losing her ability to speak her own tongue. She recently told me about seeing her childhood (best) friend in Dubai after some 40 years. They grew up in the same village, just south of Afgoye. Neither one of them spoke Af Maxaa Tiri growing up. When my mother saw her, she spoke to her in Af-Maay. He friend apologetically responded with “I can’t speak it any more”. Hooyo said that sadness overcame her, and that she didn’t know how to respond to what she had been told.
Nobody should be made to forget their own language. If that isn’t systematic violence, I don’t know what is.
