The neglected South Asian program

Some might dispute the claim of an imaginary South Asian program by pointing out that students can aspire towards a “South Asian certificate.” Trust me, it’s just window dressing. A cursory search through Course Offerings finds that a grand total of two South Asian courses were offered to students last year. The larger of these classes, ANT 217: Introduction to South Asian Cultures, promises future study of this richly diverse region, home to over 1.2 billion people of many religions, languages, histories, castes and socioeconomic affiliations. But this semester portends nothing better than the last: The same course has yet to be followed by anything more profound.

And let us not even begin to speak about Princeton’s South Asian language program. The only language available to students is Hindi, which is offered for just two years, purportedly enough time to master the tongue. Let me remind you: This is the national language of India, a rising economic superpower, and the world’s largest democracy. And what of Urdu and Bengali? Like Hindi, these languages have been designated among 13 “Critical Languages” by the State Department, and despite their rich literary traditions, they are apparently not worthy of Princeton’s attention.

This evidence makes it hard to contend that Princeton’s South Asian program is viable, let alone vigorous. I’m tempted to wonder if the University is just striving to forewarn students by the program’s de facto nonexistence that South Asian studies are insignificant and meaningless — an exercise in futility. Perhaps the illusion of a department is merely preserved to bolster Princeton’s academic diversity credentials: God knows that the veneer of diversity must be maintained, but at a minimum cost.

The intriguing thing is that our rivals in Cambridge and New Haven have done something that, in view of this potential logic, would seem downright absurd to Princeton. They have cultivated (comparatively) stellar South Asian programs. Not only is Hindi offered at advanced levels but so is Tamil, and even Sanskrit — the Latin of South Asia. And imagine this: They reject the notion of a monolithic South Asia, which Princeton still perpetuates with its broad survey courses despite the region’s heterogeneity and explosive national conflicts. They offer courses devoted to studying particular South Asian societies, and not just Indian ones.

Why have these institutions adjusted their worldview? Because South Asia is one of the world’s most critical geopolitical areas. The region is home to Pakistan, a nation that is inextricably linked to major currents in world affairs. Despite this fact, Pakistan remains poorly understood, and the world’s blindness to the country’s instability has enormous implications. South Asia is also home to India, which is already leveraging its economic might on a global scale, and with a swelling middle class that is expected to count 500 million people by 2025, experts predict that the country will become the third largest economy by 2030. In fact, many experts believe India’s governance places India at a distinctive advantage compared to China, because democracy is more sustainable.

And this brings me to my next point. The fact that India has institutionalized democratic systems renders it an extraordinary exception among developing societies, where democracy has failed time and time again. The reasons academics have offered for this proclivity for failure include enormous social dislocation and poverty and long-standing histories of ethno-religious tensions, but intriguingly this atmosphere also describes post-independence India. So why did democracy succeed in India while it failed most everywhere else despite these overwhelming commonalities? The answers can only be discerned by examining Indian governance in academic settings. The benefits of such scholarship extend well beyond South Asia, for in the process, light can be shed on how freedoms can take root in contemporary developing societies. Afghanistan and Iraq show that the current model of imposing such freedoms is not the solution.

So while Princeton prides itself in its commitment to providing students a transnational perspective (recall “in the service of all nations”) it must be wondered how merited the self-congratulation is considering the dearth of South Asian offerings. South Asia is rapidly asserting itself after centuries of misconstruction from racism, essentialism and neglect, and Princeton is quickly losing out on the chance to be a leader in the gargantuan field of this development. Nobody expects that Princeton develop a full-fledged department overnight but it is highly troubling that the University refuses to initiate real change — and no, a bhangra team is not enough.

Matthew Vengalil is a sophomore from Grosse Pointe Shores, Mich. He can be reached at vengalil@princeton.edu.