Tanqeed Kya Hai?
(1) Introduction
On the surface, the accumulated wealth of literary criticism appears vast, but much of it is rather superficial and hollow at its core. You may have seen George Saintsbury’s massive tome, A History of Criticism, and perhaps felt awed by its extensive roster of critics—venerable, renowned, and celebrated figures who have pondered the nature of criticism over the past centuries. One could easily compile an equally lengthy appendix to this exhaustive list. Yet, it must be said that truly substantial insights—ideas that carry genuine weight and value—are exceedingly rare.
I.A. Richards observes, A few conjectures, a dash of warnings, several isolated phrases, some brilliant guesses, much rhetoric and poetry, boundless confusion, plenty of dogmatism, prejudice, eccentricities, and whims—these form the foundation of contemporary criticism. (1) There may be a touch of exaggeration here, but the assertion rings true. And allow me to add that despite Richards’ own efforts, a critical vacuum still persists. Richards posed this central question: What is the value of the arts? What makes them worthy of the devotion of the finest minds during their most sensitive hours, and what is their place within the broader system of human endeavor? (2)
This question is important—undeniably so—but it does not rank first on the list of relevant inquiries. A critic must start from the very beginning. What is the critical faculty? What is its significance? What is its purpose and its scope of action? What role has it played in the advancement of human civilization and culture? What is the value of criticism in refining individual and collective consciousness, as well as life itself? These issues must be resolved first. These are not novel questions; on the surface, they may seem ordinary and commonplace, yet their importance cannot be denied, and they remain unresolved. Contemporary critical literature fails to shed sufficient light on them. One does, however, come across certain meaningful hints and prophetic declarations. As a representative sample, a few useful observations are reproduced below. We must examine the extent of their utility. Perhaps you will find these statements to be somewhat more helpful:
(1) In my view, criticism is the ability to distinguish between different experiences and to evaluate their worth.
(2) Criticism is primarily and perpetually tied to sensibility; the accurate discernment of words and the ability to be swiftly and precisely moved by them is what constitutes criticism.
(3) Criticism always has an objective, and broadly speaking, this objective is the elucidation of works of art and the correction of taste.
(4) In the truest sense, criticism is an integral part of the entire artistic movement. It is the process of art exercising sovereignty over itself. Just as art is the consciousness of life, criticism is the consciousness of art.
(5) Criticism is nothing more than the logical application of literary taste; after examining and evaluating literature, it is the process of discovering what makes literature enjoyable, and consequently, good.
These pointers are certainly useful, but they are entirely inadequate. The edifice of criticism cannot be erected upon such a foundation. As I have already stated, while there is an abundance of critical literature, it contains very little of substance regarding foundational principles. Critics have paid scant attention to the essentials. They have devoted all their focus to their material, yet they fail to even mention the tool they employ. Critics wax eloquent when defining, delimiting, interpreting, and evaluating art, literature, poetry, and drama. However, they make absolutely no mention of that great faculty without which they could never be critics in the first place. The foundation for this profound negligence was laid by Aristotle. He states, I propose to treat of Poetry in itself and of its various kinds, noting the essential quality of each... following the order of nature, let us begin with the principles which come first.
Evidently, Aristotle’s subject is poetry, not the faculty that enables one to comprehend the essence of poetry and its various forms. In following the order of nature, he ought to have written about the essence of criticism itself, but this escaped his attention, just as it escaped the attention of his successors. Aristotle’s influence was so overwhelming that for centuries, subsequent critics were entirely consumed with merely deciphering his ideas. Interpreting, clarifying, and plumbing the depths of his thoughts became their sole objective. The inevitable result followed: for a very long time, the very idea of forging a new path was entirely forgotten. The dominance of Aristotle’s theories meant that fresh, innovative ideas vanished for an extended period. An even more misleading consequence was that all critics—whether they were Aristotelians or not—became engrossed in discovering the nature of poetry, yet they never made even the slightest attempt to explore the nature of criticism itself.
It is often said that criticism does not exist in isolation, but is inherently tied to something else. Disproportionate emphasis has been placed on this something else. While it is true that criticism is connected to another subject, we must not forget that criticism is also an independent entity in its own right. This is a rather simple point, yet it has been utterly neglected. A few scattered hints can be found here and there, but beyond that, there is only silence. Because of this fundamental error, criticism has devolved into an arena for combative and quarrelsome rhetoricians who do not even know what they are arguing about. Clouded by personal prejudices and illusions, we lose sight of the actual task at hand. It is a direct consequence of this mistake that critics strayed onto the wrong path, and their true destination continued to slip further out of reach.
Criticism is tied to something else. This reflects only a partial grasp of reality. It is precisely this incomplete awareness that has led to the critic being viewed as a parasite, and criticism as a merely parasitic activity. It is often said that art is the great tree, while criticism is the parasitic vine that draws its nourishment from it. This line of thinking is what prompted someone to remark, Do you know who critics are? They are simply those who have failed in the realms of literature and art. There would be no need to waste time on such half-baked notions, were it not for the unfortunate fact that this misconception is so widespread. It reveals just how trivial criticism is considered to be. Another gentleman proclaims, Criticism is an art that has no connection to life; rather, its connection is solely to other arts. It is parasitic, yet pleasant.
T.S. Eliot, too, suggests that a second-rate mind can find success in the field of criticism. He further states, At one time I was so extreme as to believe that the only critics worth reading were those who possessed practical and profound mastery over the very art they wrote about. Fortunately, Eliot has since abandoned this extreme position.
It is generally believed that the artist is a revered figure endowed with supernatural powers. There seems to be a radiant halo around his head, a sign of his divinity. His soul shines like a star, dwelling apart, far above the earth on an elevated plane. Such notions are relics of antiquity, from a time when the artist was considered a magician and art was inextricably linked with magic. The artist himself is conscious of his own grandeur. Shelley has said, Poets are the bearers of an incomprehensible intuition. They are the mirrors in which the future casts its magnificent reflection upon the present. They are the words that reveal a reality beyond their own understanding. Like martial music, they rouse men to battle, yet they do not feel the very fervor and enthusiasm they impart. They move others, but remain unmoved themselves. They are the rulers of the world whom the world does not acknowledge.
Whatever has been said in praise of the artist is true to an extent, but the poor critic has been treated unjustly. There is no radiant halo around his head. It is said that he trails far behind the artist, panting and trembling, hoping to attain the artist's proximity so that he may hear, comprehend, and evaluate his colorful, golden words, and then make others aware of their worth. In other words, the critic is considered rather insignificant, somewhat useless. If he shines at all, it is with borrowed light. However, if the critic is relegated to such a lowly status, the fault is partly his own. He has always striven to understand the artist but has never truly recognized his own identity. What right does he have to complain, then, if others have failed to recognize him, ignored his importance, and undervalued him?
The artist has always pushed the critic into the background, and creation has consistently been viewed as entirely separate from criticism. Creation is seen as something lofty and sacred—an intuition that has nothing to do with criticism. The artist is likened to an Aeolian harp, played by the winds of inspiration. Like a lotus flower, he is supposedly oblivious to the hardships of effort and agonizing labor. This mode of thinking is inherently romantic and has no connection to reality. The truth is that criticism is an essential component of every creative act. We have now come to realize that there is no artist who is not, first and foremost, a good critic at every stage. An artistic masterpiece flourishes only within the atmosphere of critical consciousness.
Eliot has articulated this point clearly: Perhaps the greater part of the labor expended by an author in composing his work is, in fact, critical labor. Sifting, arranging, constructing, altering, expunging, correcting flaws, and then evaluating—this labor, this arduous effort, is not merely creative; it is also critical. I believe that the kind of criticism a skilled writer applies to his own work is the highest and most vital form of criticism, and (as I have said) some artists are superior to others simply because their critical faculty is stronger. We also know that the critical discernment we acquire with such difficulty flashes effortlessly for other, more fortunate individuals in the heat of creation. We tend to assume that the invisibility of critical labor is proof that no critical labor was employed. We do not realize how much critical effort has paved the way for creation, or what kind of critical struggles continuously take place within the artist's mind during the creative process.
Anyone who has ever written a poem or painted a picture knows that this task is no less arduous than carving through a mountain, and this monumental effort is inherently critical. The deep connection between creation and criticism is now beginning to be recognized, which is a very positive development. It is evident that successful creation is impossible without criticism. All of this may be true, yet criticism is still regarded as relatively inferior in value. Eliot asks, Is not a vast portion of critical writing actually creative? The critical act finds its highest, truest manifestation in its union with creation.
This reveals that, despite everything he has said, even Eliot is not fully aware of the true significance of criticism. There is no acknowledgment of the fact that criticism possesses its own independent existence and its own distinct function—a realization that has become absolutely essential today. Criticism has a monumental duty to fulfill, especially in an era when various terrifying spiritual, intellectual, and emotional dangers stand in our path.
(1) Principles of Literary Criticism.
(2) Principles of Literary Criticism.
(2) What is Criticism?
Criticism is as essential as breathing. It is an invaluable gift of nature. Much like sight and speech, its true worth is impossible to measure; in fact, the value of criticism might even surpass them both. We observe the things around us and converse with one another, yet we treat this seeing and speaking as ordinary occurrences, failing to accurately gauge their true importance and value. It hardly needs to be said how vital these faculties are. If we were deprived of sight and speech, what would be left in life? Yet, we rarely reflect upon this reality. A child naturally learns to use his eyes. In the same natural manner, though with slightly more difficulty, he also learns to speak. This learning process is so slow and gradual that it is virtually imperceptible. The moment a child begins to distinguish between two toys, a glimpse of criticism emerges. It is the marvel of criticism that leads him to like one toy and dislike another.
While the child possesses this ability to differentiate, this discernment lacks any trace of conscious understanding or deliberate thought. He acts under the compulsion of a feeling he cannot comprehend. He may prefer a particular toy, but he cannot explain the reason for his preference to us, simply because he does not know it himself. He performs an action, but lacks the cognitive maturity to investigate the reasoning behind it. A vague outline of this reason might exist in his mind, but he cannot fill it with color to bring it to light. In other words, the child does possess the faculty of criticism, but it remains somewhat mute. It has not yet learned to speak. He compares things and recognizes the differences between them. He may favor a certain object and even sense its worth, but this preference is entirely subjective and somewhat erratic. He cannot provide a rational justification for it.
A child is, after all, a child. But adults fare no better. They too cannot provide a reasonable explanation for their likes and dislikes. They too like certain things and dislike others. They too distinguish between experiences and attempt to understand their value, yet the only reason they can offer for their preference is: I like it. To express this, they might use more words, and their writing or speech might be quite ponderous, but there is rarely much substance behind it. What we call criticism suffers from this very flaw. Our critics certainly talk a great deal; they cite principles and perspectives, employing words and phrases that leave the reader awed. Yet, upon closer inspection, the illusion created by these words and phrases shatters, revealing their claims to be entirely hollow:
Dr. Khalid’s subject is not limited to beauty and love. He is also influenced by global ideas and events. Consequently, the manner in which he has shed tears over the plight of a specific class in India during the current war can be gauged by reading his poem Ek Katba (An Epitaph):
Sher Dil Khan!
Main ne dekhe tees saal
Pay-ba-pay faaqay
Musalsal zillatein
So raha hoon is gharhay ki god mein
Aaftaab-e-Misr ke saaye talay
Main kunwara hi raha
Kaash mera baap bhi
Uff kunwara!
Kya kahoon
[Sher Dil Khan!
I have seen thirty years
Successive starvations
Continuous humiliations
I am sleeping in the lap of this pitcher
Under the shadow of the Egyptian sun
I remained a bachelor
If only my father had too
Ugh, a bachelor!
What can I say]
This is a portrait of the tragic fate of a wounded India. Today, millions of Indian youths have fallen prey to the bloodthirsty jaws of war, and this topic is being discussed in every household. By presenting this very theme, Dr. Khalid has given voice to thousands of hearts.
Phrases like being discussed in every household, influenced by global ideas and events, and giving voice to thousands of hearts are merely used to overawe the reader and mask a lack of critical insight. Ibadat Barelvi happens to like this rather banal poem, and to justify his unwarranted preference, he employs such sentences. He fails to realize that even if these claims were true, they do not establish the poem's poetic beauty. Artistic merit is entirely absent, making all these assertions hollow. Furthermore, he is unaware that the central idea of this poem has been lifted from a poem by A.E. Housman:
Main kunwara hi raha kaash mera baap bhi uff kunwara! Kya kahoon?
[I remained a bachelor, if only my father had too, ugh, a bachelor! What can I say?]
For so the game is ended
That should not have begun.
My father and my mother
They had a likely son,
And I have none.
It is obvious that Ek Katba presents a distorted version of Housman’s ideas—distorted in both thought and style. A line like Ugh, a bachelor! What can I say? can only evoke laughter, nothing more. So, what we have here is not criticism, but rather ponderous yet hollow rhetoric: This is a portrait of the tragic fate of wounded India's youth. Today, millions of Indian youths have fallen prey to the bloodthirsty jaws of war.
Do you see? Our critics, too, merely express their personal likes and dislikes. They talk about principles, yet they lack any real understanding of them. They pass judgment on the merits or flaws of a work, but they cannot comprehend their own judgments. The foundation of their verdicts rests entirely on personal preference. They possess no sensitive discernment to guide them accurately. It is entirely possible for a critic to consider Jag Beeti a brilliant poem, or to elevate Zauq above Momin, and even offer plausible justifications for doing so. However, upon closer inspection, it becomes evident that they are merely voicing their own preferences.
Criticism is as natural as breathing, yet its development in life and literature is far from satisfactory. It is astonishing how much humanity has neglected it. Life is impossible without criticism, just as we cannot survive without drawing breath. It is impossible to separate criticism from life. Criticism is our helper, our guide, and our anchor. Its influence is evident in every sphere of life, and we constantly rely on it. In every waking moment of our breathing lives, we make critical judgments. Whether buying a car or choosing a profession, both require criticism. Preferring democracy over fascism requires criticism. Praising Florence Nightingale while condemning Lucrezia Borgia requires criticism. Valuing spiritual peace over physical comfort requires criticism, just as recognizing Mir as superior to Charkeen requires criticism. Be it a judge or a thief, a swindler or a tycoon, a scientist or an acrobat—in short, a lawyer, a doctor, a general, a philosopher, or a woman of the streets—everyone needs criticism. Everyone employs criticism, and it is the very secret of their success.
One might argue that I am using the word criticism in an overly broad sense. But consider this: I am neither treating the word unjustly nor twisting its meaning. The reality is that, until now, this word has been confined to a very narrow definition. In common parlance, criticism is synonymous with literary criticism. However, it is obvious that literary criticism is merely one form of criticism. It may well be the finest and most valuable form, but there are hundreds of other forms of criticism. We have persistently used the term in this restricted sense, which is precisely why we have yet to fully grasp its true value and significance.
The fact remains that literary criticism is an immensely valuable discipline that cannot be viewed with mockery or contempt. As for the critical faculty itself, its worth is self-evident. It has already been established that it is as essential as breathing and is the very basis of our existence. Comparison, analysis, discernment, and judgment—these are the wheels on which the vehicle of criticism runs. No one can deny that we employ these faculties at every moment, whether consciously or subconsciously. Even if we wished to, we could not detach ourselves from them, and no sensible person would ever entertain the thought of doing so, for abandoning them would be tantamount to suicide.
Recognizing criticism, valuing it, and utilizing it correctly—this is the path to our betterment. But this path is not easy. Criticism is a strange shapeshifter. It constantly assumes new forms, making its true face difficult to discern; yet, becoming acquainted with its true form is essential. The quest for it is the very purpose of our lives. It is our path to salvation. Criticism is a precious gift from nature, and it is our duty to cultivate it properly. We must take full advantage of its potential and elevate it to the highest pinnacles of progress. Just as we nourish our bodies and develop our physical strength, the cultivation and development of this intellectual faculty is equally necessary. Yet, we remain utterly oblivious to it, as if it does not exist at all.
This is what makes a human being human and distinguishes them from animals. Instead of the faculty of criticism, animals possess an animal instinct that teaches them to distinguish between friend and foe. To a great extent, their safety and survival depend on this instinctive sense. Early humans also possessed a similar instinctive sense, and it can still be found in children today. However, the development of cognitive faculties pushes this instinct into the background, and gradually, the need for it fades away. This instinctive sense operates by groping in the dark, or perhaps like a machine. But a machine is unaware of its own cogs and gears. The human mind, on the other hand, operates not in darkness, but in the light. It is aware of its own mechanisms. At the very least, it is acquainted with its own workings. At the very least, it seeks to know and evaluate its own faculties, and this very consciousness is responsible for its greatness—but it requires cultivation. Anyone can jump around, but transforming bodily movements into a beautiful masterpiece of dance is a difficult feat. Similarly, without rigorous discipline, it is difficult to harness one's mental faculties to produce something good, noble, and beautiful.
Animals are concerned with their own survival, but they are unaware of any higher perspective. Human beings desire something more than mere survival. Merely staying alive is not the ultimate purpose of human life. We want to make our lives meaningful. Success in this endeavor is impossible without the aid of criticism. Unlike animals, humans are not easily contented. We observe things, evaluate them, and form likes and dislikes. We seek to change things and improve them. We do not simply wish to drift along the current of life. Life is like a flowing river whose steady current can sometimes give the illusion of stagnation, sweeping every living thing along with it. Every living creature drifts with this river. It is only the human being who surveys their surroundings, seeks to turn the tide, or, at the very least, attempts to discover its secrets and its true value.
By now, it should be clear that criticism is as precious as life itself, and to withdraw from it is a form of suicide. Whether it manifests as a generally cultivated intellectual faculty or takes on a specific guise, the importance of criticism is evident. The preacher, the philosopher, the doctor, the lawyer, and the scientist—all rely on some specific form of criticism. Whether navigating the material world or the boundless expanses of thought and spirit, we cannot take a single step without the guidance of criticism. Without this guide, all our investigations and endeavors would be in vain. In their own respective ways, everyone employs a particular form of criticism to succeed in their quests and inquiries. Sometimes, this criticism assumes an external, material form. For instance, consider the entire legal system—judges, lawyers, courts, prisons, constables, and criminals. Ultimately, the purpose of this complex apparatus is investigation, scrutiny, analysis, and judgment—which is to say, criticism itself. There are other such material manifestations of criticism as well.
These specific forms are useful within their respective domains, but outside of them, they are entirely useless and inert. For example, the entire legal apparatus cannot tell us whether a patient died of a fever or succumbed to colic. Furthermore, there is another limitation to these specialized forms. The legal machinery can only determine whether a certain individual committed a specific crime. However, those who are entirely innocent never interact with this machinery, and it sheds no light—nor can it—on their virtues. Therefore, it is incorrect to confine criticism solely to its specialized forms. Doing so narrows the scope of criticism's utility. Moreover, compartmentalizing life into isolated spheres is far from wise. The system of life is complex, and its various facets cannot be entirely separated from one another. Similarly, the different branches of knowledge are interconnected. A lawyer who knows nothing but the law cannot be a truly good lawyer. A knowledge of psychology makes a doctor a better physician, and a poet who is also a critic becomes a far better poet.
I have already mentioned that, in common parlance, the term criticism is generally understood to mean literary criticism. Because of this, its true value and significance remain unrecognized. Because criticism is associated with literature, it is often looked down upon. It is treated as an unwanted, parasitic burden, and it is often said that those who lack the talent to write poetry resort to fault-finding. But the world of criticism is not confined to literature. Criticism is not solely concerned with literature. Its scope is no less vast than the scope of life itself. Life gives birth to the critical faculty, and then relies upon it for its own survival and progress.
(3) Criticism and Education
The purpose of education is the cultivation and development of a guiding critical perception. This is why the critic takes a keen interest in education. Every society receives the kind of education it deserves.
The importance of the close relationship between the structure of society and the structure of education cannot be overstated. Schools and colleges are not isolated from the social system, nor do they keep themselves apart. The reality is that our schools and colleges are the very institutions that train the youth to participate in society, and a society can only impart the hopes, values, knowledge, and convictions that it has itself produced.
Generally, we remain unaware of this intimate connection, but the critic recognizes it; hence, their interest in education. This education begins in the cradle, right in the mother's lap. Children are highly sensitive and pick up bad habits very quickly. Later in life, these bad habits create numerous difficulties and psychological complexes. Children must be protected from these difficulties, complexes, and entanglements. However, parents are usually either unaware of these issues, indifferent to them, or simply too preoccupied to look after their children properly. Harding notes that these difficulties are so deeply ingrained that curing them is incredibly difficult. However, measures can be taken to ensure that as these children grow into adults, they view these challenges from the correct perspective and save their lives from ruin.
The critic must evaluate whether the home environment is better, or if nurseries are preferable. Similarly, the critic must examine the pre-school years, as well as the kind of education being imparted in schools, colleges, and universities. It is essential for those responsible for the education of children to have an understanding of psychology. While this will be immensely helpful, their primary focus must remain centered on culture. They must understand that the ultimate goal of education is to raise a civilized child who will then grow into a civilized adult. This is only possible when there is an understanding of true culture.
In the past, education was the domain of a privileged few—those who possessed both wealth and leisure. The vast majority of the public remained absorbed in their daily labor, seeking guidance from tradition and this small educated elite. These few educated individuals were the leaders of society, and the education they received is what is known in English as a liberal education. Classical literature formed a major part of this curriculum. The purpose of such an education was to impart an understanding and appreciation of the finest and most valuable ideas. It aimed to cultivate the habit of critical thinking, bestow the invaluable gift of intellectual balance, and simultaneously awaken a desire for a higher, more refined life. This small group was the flower of society, the repository of a delicate and beautiful culture.
Today, the old order has changed, and a new system is waiting to be born. Life has become exceedingly complex. The roots of the old civilization have been torn up, the ties of tradition have been severed, and culture has become a word with many meanings—all of them vague. Education is now accessible to everyone. Numerous institutions have been established, but the quality of education has been tarnished. No one cares for a liberal education anymore. People desire industrial and vocational training that qualifies them for specific jobs. There is a vast array of jobs and professions, and the demand is for an education that assists them in these new roles and trades. No one pauses to ask whether these jobs and trades are actually worth pursuing. The distinction between man and machine has vanished; people perform the trades they are taught with mechanical routine.
The critic reminds us that man is not a machine. He must learn to determine which endeavors are truly worthwhile. He must cultivate discernment and a sense of responsibility. He needs to develop the habit of critical thought and realize that life is not merely about performing a specific task like an automaton. In other words, there is a profound need for a liberal education. A person with such an education may not know how to pilot an airplane or operate a typewriter; he may not know how to manage a bank—or how to rob one—but he acquires a sensitive discernment that enables him to accomplish far greater things.
The social and cultural order has now disintegrated, and the cause of this fragmentation is the formidable machinery of industrialization that has emerged in our era. The era of restraint and control has passed, and a terrifying, monstrous apparatus of propaganda has fallen into the hands of malicious individuals. There is only one way to counter this: people must be educated in moral responsibility and equipped with a sharp, nuanced perception. Otherwise, the entire social and cultural fabric will collapse.
As I have noted, modern civilization has become incredibly complex, and the world has shrunk to such an extent that an upheaval in one place is felt everywhere. In the past, only a select few were the custodians of culture, adorned with the finest elements of their era's civilization. They had their limitations, but they were vibrant and possessed a keen awareness of the world around them. They served as a radiant center from which the rays of culture emanated in all directions. Today, no such center exists where humanity can be preserved and from which the rays of a humanistic culture can radiate. The result is intellectual chaos. What we need is a center where we can collectively reassemble our intellectual wealth and reorganize the scattered fragments of our culture.
The realm of human knowledge has expanded so vastly that no single individual can master it all. Consequently, no one today attempts to encompass the entire world of knowledge. A tiny fraction of this vast sphere has become the sole focus of individual attention, and thus, the realm of knowledge has been fragmented into countless small compartments. We are familiar with our own narrow fields but remain ignorant of the rest. However, understanding these fragments in isolation is of little use. We need an awareness of the whole—not a superficial, incomplete, or fragmented familiarity with various disciplines, but a profound and genuine comprehension. Today, education, like everything else, exhibits a state of fragmentation, a spectacle of sick hurry and divided aims. Only a holistic, universal endeavor can bring order and harmony to this intellectual chaos and transform destruction into construction.
The traditional educational system cannot accomplish this task. Only a new, culturally grounded education can show us the way to salvation. An awareness of our current malaise, coupled with an understanding of our specific needs, will help us overcome these challenges. The critic's role is to forge connections between the disparate branches of knowledge scattered across the world, to unveil their underlying meaning and purpose, and to integrate them into a unified system and framework. This endeavor can be undertaken in universities, which serve as hubs for diverse disciplines and can reveal their profound significance by leaving a distinct imprint upon them. I have previously stated that the purpose of schools is to produce civilized children who grow into civilized adults. The purpose of universities, however, is to produce cultured individuals. Such an individual will be free from baseness and arrogance, as well as from narrow-mindedness and a poverty of interests—a narrowness that cripples the mind. This cultured person will stand at the pinnacle of perception, using their sharp and sensitive intellect to analyze and resolve both social and personal problems.
Their perception will not be rigid or confined to a single, well-worn path; rather, it will be flexible, capable of navigating diverse and complex stages with ease. They will possess a comprehensive understanding of the present, including its limitations and specific needs. They will also have a profound knowledge of the past, recognizing which of its virtues can still serve us today. A mature sense of values will guide them in selecting what is good and relevant, allowing them to harness the best of the past in service of the present and the future. Consequently, they will realize that the past, the present, and the future are inextricably linked. This realization—that the world is one, that humanity is one, that all human knowledge is interconnected, and that the literatures of different languages reflect a unity in diversity—will bestow upon them a global perspective, a universal sensibility, and transcendent values. In this illuminating light, all divisions will dissolve, and only a single, unified flame will remain visible.
Setting aside these broader issues, a critic can also focus on the finer details, and owing to his specific attributes, he can prove highly useful in this domain as well. He can evaluate a particular educational system and determine which of two competing systems is more beneficial and effective. Similarly, he can turn his attention to a specific type of school, scrutinize it, and assess the extent to which it has succeeded in its objectives. He can also examine a university to see whether it successfully centralizes intellectual and cognitive endeavors. He can evaluate its success or failure in comparison to other universities, and if it is successful, he can define the limits of that success. Furthermore, he can scrutinize the examination system and offer practical suggestions to improve it. He can also review the prescribed syllabus to determine whether the textbooks are adequate or inadequate for fully comprehending and mastering a specific subject.
(4) Criticism and Mental Health
Criticism is responsible for mental health. Ezra Pound once remarked, The body is not a bad thing. Physical illnesses and weaknesses, however, are bad. The same principle applies to the mind. Mental illnesses are no less repulsive than physical ones. The truth is, if someone has a toothache, it only causes pain to him, but a fool can spoil an entire gathering. And speaking of epidemics, a few lunatics can spread a contagion no less lethal than a global plague.
Physical ailments are easy to diagnose, and their treatment is not particularly difficult. A patient observes the symptoms of an illness and consults a doctor. Similarly, the devastation of an epidemic does not remain hidden. It creates an uproar, and immediate efforts are made to eradicate it. However, the diseases that take hold of the mind are not so easily recognized. No one is even aware of their destructiveness. The real tragedy is that there are no doctors available who can diagnose and treat these mental afflictions.
Macbeth asked the doctor:
Kya tum beemar dimagh ka ilaj kar sakte ho.
Kya tum us gham ko jis ne hafize mein jar pakar li hai ukhaar sakte ho
Kya tum dimagh par likhe hue masaib ko mita sakte ho
Aur kisi shireen, bhula dene wali dawa se
Hamare bhare hue seene ko is khatarnak cheez se saaf kar sakte ho.
Jo mere dil par bhari pathar bani hui hai?
[Can you treat a diseased mind?
Can you uproot the sorrow that has taken root in the memory?
Can you erase the troubles written upon the brain?
And with some sweet, oblivious antidote,
Cleanse our stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff
That rests like a heavy stone upon my heart?]
It is fortunate that Macbeth was at least aware that his mind was diseased. The sorrow that has taken root, the troubles written upon the brain, the perilous stuff resting like a heavy stone upon the heart—today, we lack any awareness of these things. We consider ourselves perfectly healthy. If there is no realization of the disease, its treatment is impossible. Macbeth knew that his mental health had deteriorated, but this knowledge was of no use to him. When the doctor replied, he only said:
Aisi bimari mein
Mareez apni aap dad rasi kar sakta hai.
[In such an illness,
The patient must minister to himself.]
The reason was that the doctor had never encountered such an illness before, and there was no cure for it in his medical repertoire. Yet, his answer was not entirely useless or absurd. In such a situation, the patient can, to a large extent, help himself. The very awareness of the illness is a sign of health. A madman is never conscious of his own madness. If the knowledge of the disease transforms into a desire for health, then there is a great deal of hope.
Treating a diseased mind is a difficult task. This difficulty is compounded by the fact that we have absolutely no knowledge of these illnesses. Obviously, I am not referring to the diseases found in medical textbooks. An open ulcer on someone's body looks terrible, but a similarly repulsive ulcer can exist in the mind without anyone even knowing about it. Perhaps this is why medical science has progressed so much, yet there is no equivalent science responsible for mental health. Nowadays, a new discipline called psychoanalysis has developed, but even this field is somewhat superficial. Furthermore, the kinds of illnesses I am talking about cannot be cured by this new science.
These illnesses can be as minor as a common cold or as terrifying and dreadful as tuberculosis. Someone once said that military training is superior to literary training. A soldier undergoes rigorous training; he must always remain physically and mentally alert, doing the right thing at the right time, because his first mistake could be his last. Literary training, however, is not as strict. If someone prefers Milton over Shakespeare, it would not be considered a fatal error. What can be said about this? A soldier loses his life, but a critic's mind is murdered. He no longer remains a person of intellect and understanding.
The average human being happens to be quite dense. He is denser than the very animals he looks down upon with contempt. In passing through the stages of evolution, he lost the animal instinct that once guided him, and the sharpness of his five senses also faded away. Animals instinctively distinguish between friend and foe. They sense danger and know how to avoid it. In comparison, man appears helpless, pathetic, and devoid of insight, because he no longer possesses that animal instinct, and his mind is neither sharp, brilliant, nor far-sighted.
Stupidity reigns supreme in the world. There is no need for examples. Whether in our private lives or our social relations, our professions and businesses, or our legal, political, and educational institutions—countless examples of stupidity can be seen everywhere. This stupidity causes us immense harm. Our energies are wasted. The only way to escape this colossal loss is to make our minds more agile, sharp, and sensitive.
Our bodies are prey to countless germs that swarm all around us, invisible to the naked eye. We have now become aware of the existence of these germs and have devised numerous methods to counteract their lethal effects. Just like our bodies, our minds are also infested with germs. These germs are of many kinds and are highly lethal. There is no escape from them because we have not yet even identified them, nor have we invented any medicine to destroy them. Many of these germs we have inherited. For instance, primitive man, with his countless superstitions, still haunts us. His appearance has changed slightly; he hides his nakedness beneath the garb of civilization, but his heart remains the same. He is a savage—just as savage as he was thousands of years ago. Civilizations rise, flourish, and then wither away. These are merely superficial changes that occur constantly, but in the depths, nothing ever changes.
So, the edifices of civilization are built and dismantled, yet the savage man remains right beside us; he is our alter ego. He continuously twists the cogs of our minds without us even realizing it. Whatever we do, think, or feel is influenced by this unseen hand. Those who have investigated this matter in the course of their studies know just how deeply these unseen forces have cast their net beneath our feet. One of these ancient forces is superstition. Every word and action of ancient man was a manifestation of superstition. Beyond medicine and magic, the web of superstition was spread across all his spheres of activity, and this web remains intact today. Things have changed, forms have altered, but superstition remains the same.
In the light of science, superstition is a deadly poison, yet very few people have truly benefited from this light. Tragically, even science itself can become a superstition. Regardless, the vast majority of people today remain victims of ancient superstitions. Mentally and emotionally, they are no different from the savage. They still view the world through savage eyes. I.A. Richards notes that, to them, nature is merely a playground for magic. Ancient man was superstitious, but he was not ashamed of it. Those who consider themselves civilized today simply hide their superstitions. The superficial and incomplete education they receive gives them the illusion of being civilized. They fail to realize that this veneer of civilization is merely surface-level, and their minds remain uncivilized.
We take great pride in being rational creatures, yet superstition has riddled our intellect with thousands of holes. Irrationality always lies in wait; the moment it finds an opportunity, it strikes. Our endeavor should be to let reason manifest in our thoughts, emotions, and actions—but not reason alone. However, this rarely happens. Irrationality leads us astray. What has transpired in India, and what has happened and continues to happen across the world, stands as undeniable proof of this reality. Our path to salvation lies in criticism, which, in the form of proper education, can save us from superstition. It is criticism that can drag the true nature of superstition, its ever-evolving forms, and its bloodthirstiness out from the depths of our minds and expose them to the light of day.
Some diseases we inherit, while others we contract along the way. There is neither the need nor the space to go into detail here. These pathogens are countless and of various kinds. They appear so benign that the eyes are deceived, making it difficult to comprehend that they are, in fact, lethal. Whether they are the pathogens of fascism or communism, of imperialism or narrow-minded nationalism, of racial superiority and racial hatred, or of mechanization and corporate ethics—in short, a myriad of such pathogens continuously ravage the realm of the mind. Escaping them is no easy task, and the real tragedy is that people are entirely unaware of these afflictions. Furthermore, massive forces rally in support of these pathogens. Personal or national greed, arrogance, and the intoxication of power all serve to nourish them, making them even harder to eradicate.
Yet, we must destroy these pathogens. One method is education, which has already been discussed. The second method is to treat the symptoms of these diseases wherever they appear, and this is only possible through criticism. Alongside this treatment, the promotion of healthy ideas is essential. In this vital and beneficial endeavor, literature can render an invaluable service by restoring our minds to health. Ezra Pound has stated: It [literature] has to do with the clarity and vigor of 'any and every' thought and opinion. It has to do with maintaining the very cleanliness of the tools, the health of the very matter of thought itself. Save in the rare and limited instances of invention in the exact sciences, or in mathematics, man can neither think nor communicate his thoughts to others without words. The ruler and the legislator cannot make laws without words, and the soundness and weight of these words rest in the hands of those damned writers who are viewed with such contempt. When their work goes rotten—by that I do not mean when they express indecencies—but when the very medium, the very essence of their work, the application of word to thing goes rotten, i.e., when it becomes slushy and inexact, or excessive or bloated, the whole machinery of social and of individual thought and order goes to pot.
Criticism recognizes these defects, uncovers their root causes, and administers the cure. Criticism is acutely aware of these symptoms and understands the psychological background of each specific manifestation. By restoring literature to health, it lays the foundation for both social and individual well-being. It is an accepted truth that literature is the mirror of life. The ailments of our intellectual life are reflected in this mirror. This disease begins to manifest not just in literature, but in all forms of writing. It is at this juncture that criticism becomes essential.
I.A. Richards has observed that engaging in seemingly impractical pursuits like art or criticism is often viewed as being a mere passenger on a severely understaffed ship. While this may be true for some who occupy themselves with such endeavors, it is a mistake to dismiss criticism as a luxury trade. The trailing segments of society cannot be educated unless the vanguard continues to forge ahead. Introspection and true perception are still rare commodities. The critic, as we have noted, is as deeply concerned with the health of the mind as a physician is with the health of the body. To be a critic is to be a judge of values, because art—regardless of the artist's conscious intent—is inherently an appraisal and celebration of life. F.R. Leavis similarly asserts: Literary criticism is concerned with more than just literature. A serious interest in literature cannot remain purely literary. It is inextricably linked to a profound sense of, and engagement with, social justice, societal organization, and the overall health of a culture.
This is precisely why literature can serve as the focal point for general intellectual training. Reading literature thoughtfully, and examining various issues with sensitivity, seriousness, and honesty—this is how the mind can be thoroughly and properly cultivated. However, this alone is not enough, nor is literature the sole medium for intellectual reform. The world relies on all forms of writing, speech, and conversation to function. Indeed, wherever words are employed, criticism holds jurisdiction. Intellectual ailments are reflected in words, and it is through words that all the symptoms of these diseases are diagnosed. Once the symptoms are identified, the cure is no longer difficult. It becomes evident, then, that criticism is the guardian of intellectual health. Its domain is not narrow; it is vast. It is as boundless as life itself, holding sway over the entire realm of human thoughts, emotions, and actions.
(5) Criticism and Moral Health
Mental health and moral health are inextricably linked. If the mind is diseased, morality cannot be healthy. For instance, if the germs of big business infect a mind, their effect will immediately manifest in its morality; that is, our morality will become commercialized. Naturally, the difference between a healthy morality and a commercial morality is akin to the difference between a straight Euclidean line and a labyrinth. Criticism reveals the distinction between the straight line and the labyrinth. We often have little awareness of this difference, and even when we do, we do not consistently prefer the straight line over the labyrinth. The point is that morality is founded on the discernment that teaches us to differentiate between various things in the realm of action and to prefer one over another.
Morals do not, and cannot, breathe in a vacuum. A social system is essential for their existence. The ancient social order was profoundly influenced by the search for food and sexual inclinations. It is generally assumed that morality is solely concerned with sexual relations, but this notion is incorrect. The reality is that two forces governed the realm of action for ancient man: material needs and compulsions on one side, and spiritual freedom on the other. The central problem of morality is to determine the role of understanding and conscious purpose in human progress.
The savage possesses an awareness of the inwardness of life, but he does not, and cannot, develop this awareness. The fact is that he gets little respite for contemplation; one might say he gets none at all. Opportunities for solitude rarely arise in his life. He does not sit in seclusion to reflect upon his inner life, nor does he converse with his soul in solitude. Consequently, his inner life remains somewhat incomplete, and his morality is not founded on spiritual freedom. This spiritual freedom can only be attained through contemplation, for which he has no time. Inevitably, the wellspring of his morality lies in external factors—namely, custom and religion. If you ask a savage the reason for his action, he will be unable to provide a rational explanation. He merely imitates what others do. Thus, morality becomes another name for habit. Whatever is customary is deemed correct, and the savage simply adheres to this principle. When Captain Cook inquired why the chiefs ate separately, the answer he received was: it is the custom, and therefore it is right.
Morality, Dewey states, is custom; it is the public way of doing things. It is the name for firmly established group habits. For the anthropologist, this is a commonplace fact. Always and everywhere, customs serve as the standard for individual action. They are the pattern within which individual actions are woven. This holds as true today as it ever did in the past. Custom is the very foundation of moral standards.
Civilized man is also somewhat like the savage. He too is a creature of habit, blindly accepting whatever comes his way. Like the savage, he acts in accordance with custom. If asked why he does so, his answer might well be the same as the one the native of Tahiti gave to Captain Cook: It is the custom, and therefore it is right. However, this answer cannot be satisfactory. The defining characteristic of civilized man is that he can, and does, reflect upon the causes and consequences of his actions. Civilized life affords the leisure and opportunities for contemplation. The habit of understanding grants him inner awareness and reveals the secret of the internal principles operating behind the veil of external influences. It is the miracle of criticism that it polishes our contemplation, introduces the element of comprehension into our insight, and properly trains our discernment.
It is generally assumed that the savage is a slave to his inclinations and desires, incapable of restraining them—meaning he has not even a remote connection to social civilization. This idea is incorrect. A highly complex web of custom surrounds the savage, restraining him in many matters. The notion that the savage is exceedingly bloodthirsty and murderous is far from reality:
Savages are not warlike. They do, however, attempt to appear very bloodthirsty. They are hardly ever ready for war and conflict, and even when they are, numerous religious beliefs and magical rituals hinder the warfare and limit its impact. Very little blood is shed among the most bloodthirsty tribes of East Africa. Speke mentions a war that lasted for three years, in which only three men from both sides were killed. In every part of the world, there are many tribes that do not fight, or do so very little; if the idea that ancient peoples were perpetually engaged in horrific wars were true, humanity would not have survived. How could ancient man fight amongst himself? He faced far greater enemies, and to survive them—not to fight one another—he had to work together.
Evidently, the concept that the savage is a slave to his inclinations is somewhat romanticized and far from reality. Like civilized man, he too exercises control over his emotions and desires. He stems the tide of his inclinations and diverts their course, but this restraint is based on habit and custom, not on trained discernment. The recognition of good and bad, the scrutiny of internal principles, the discernment of values—that is, criticism—and free, living conviction do not govern his mental world. And let me add that even in the mental world of civilized man, the rule of true, free, and living criticism is rarely seen. He too makes little use of understanding. Hearsay, the cues of others, the current of emotions, and mental and emotional habits—in short, things of this nature serve as the motives for his actions. He does not think or understand; he commits despicable and flawed acts, yet believes he is doing something exceedingly good and noble. During the First World War, an English general delivered a speech of this sort to newly recruited soldiers:
Just think, what possible good in this world or the next can come from a wounded German soldier? Today he is admitted to the hospital for treatment, and tomorrow, fully recovered, he stands against you on the battlefield once again. Look, this only brings us harm. So, when you see a wounded man lying there, kill him on the spot. Trusting him is sheer folly. If you spare him, remember that at the first opportunity, he will make you or your dear comrade the target of his bullet. The cowardice of the Germans is such that they only use their bayonets when one of our wounded soldiers is lying helpless and destitute in the blood and dust, unable to defend himself. These cowards plunge their bayonets into his chest. When you see the Germans committing such acts, can you have any sympathy for them? No, just kill these merciless people. Kill them one by one. Remember, your only duty is to kill them. The only path to safety is to annihilate these vile creatures.
This speech likely had a profound impact, and the English soldiers probably acted upon it, killing many Germans with their bayonets as they lay helpless and destitute in the blood and dust. It probably never crossed anyone's mind to pause and consider what was actually being said, or to evaluate its worth from a moral standpoint. No one would have felt the need for any reflection or critical thought:
Mujhe toh khoo hai ke jo kuch kaho baja kahiye.
(I have a habit of agreeing that whatever you say is right.)
The crux of this speech is to murder wounded German soldiers and leave no one alive. Even if they are writhing helplessly in the blood and dust, lacking the strength to defend themselves, do not exercise compassion or humanity. Become beasts; kill them ruthlessly. Plunge your bayonets into their chests, plunge them deep. This kind of preaching has absolutely nothing to do with morality, humanity, or reason. How can a person who says such things, or the people who listen to and act upon them, be considered civilized? And what kind of civilization permits such discourse? The very barbaric acts the Germans are accused of are the exact same barbaric acts being encouraged here, and perhaps there isn't even a realization that such an absurd and ridiculous act has been committed. If the speaker had realized this truth and were truly civilized, he would have committed suicide. And if the listeners were civilized and understood what they were being incited to do, they would have made the speaker the target of their bayonets before the Germans.
It was a time of war, a time when the fervor of patriotism is at its peak. It is only natural for every person to love their homeland. They want to keep it safe from all kinds of danger and are ready to sacrifice their own lives in its defense. This emotion is so overpowering that it temporarily suspends discernment, understanding, civilization, culture, and criticism. In this speech, several other feelings have been inflamed alongside this emotion. The instinct for self-preservation is very strong. It, too, has been provoked: If you spare him, remember that at the first opportunity, he will make you or your dear comrade the target of his bullet. Along with the instinct for self-preservation, the sentiment of camaraderie has also been stoked. Even if you do not care about your own safety, protecting your comrades is your duty. Furthermore, the manner of speaking makes it seem as though highly rational and wise things are being said, and anyone who disagrees is an absolute fool—and obviously, no one likes to be a fool. Just look at the lengths gone to, the various tactics employed, all for the sake of a despicable act.
From the standpoint of human morality, this speech can be called a grave sin. Yet, how many such moral sins do we commit day in and day out? We do so simply because we are compelled by our inclinations and desires, our emotions, and our mental and emotional habits, failing to exercise our critical faculties. Despite possessing reason, we do not use it. In other words, even after traversing the stages of civilization, we fail to become truly civilized. This is why our moral crookedness is never straightened out. And this crookedness does not merely manifest at specific times; rather, it is visible in our every word and deed, in our social institutions, in our personal and social relationships, and in every sphere of life. It is the gift of criticism that allows us to recognize this moral crookedness and, having recognized it, attempt to correct it.
Take another kind of example: No one saw what happened. One moment the boy was playing on the pavement, and the next he was on the ground. At the hospital, a single glance from the doctor was enough. He said, 'This child has been bitten by a snake. He must get anti-venom serum immediately, or he will die.' Inquiries were made at every hospital and pharmacy, one by one. The same answer came from everywhere: the medicine was out of stock. Even at Smith's shop in Piccadilly, the last vial of the medicine had been sold that very day. But how could Smith just say no and sit idle? He was a national chemist. It was his duty to procure this medicine, no matter what. Regardless of the cost. It was a matter of life and death. Saving this life was his job.
The church clock near the hospital struck eight. The doctor stood by the sick child, watching the ebb and flow of that tiny life. It was five past eight. Would the 'serum' never arrive? Suddenly, the sound of a motorcar emerged from the darkness of the night. Then a horn honked. Behold! The medicine had arrived. Within five minutes, the child was administered the medicine, and that tiny life was saved. A little while later, the doctor said, 'This was a narrow escape.' But what a magnificent feat it was!
You might think that I have copied these lines from a short story or a novel. You will perhaps be surprised to hear that this passage has been copied from an advertisement, and its ultimate purpose is to get you to buy medicines from Smith's shop. Such a massive spectacle has been created for this commercial objective. It sheds considerable light on our morality that we tolerate this kind of advertising. We are influenced by such advertisements and give people like Smith the opportunity to amass wealth.
Look at the tactics employed for such a despicable act! If a misfortune befalls someone, we naturally sympathize with them, and if their life is in danger, our sympathy deepens. If an innocent child's life is at stake, our compassion grows even stronger. Here, a child's life is in peril, and the calamity strikes without warning. Just moments ago, he was perfectly healthy. Life was coursing through his veins. There was not the slightest hint of illness or death, yet suddenly, we find him at death's door. The emotion of sympathy surges with full intensity. Then, we are plunged into the agonizing torment of waiting. One by one, every hospital and pharmacy is scoured for the medicine, but to no avail—and we are left waiting. The agony of anticipation intensifies. Finally, the church bell strikes eight. Five more minutes pass, and the last glimmer of hope fades away. In this state of absolute despair, when all seems lost, the medicine suddenly arrives. The child's life is saved, and our despair transforms into overwhelming joy.
All of this unfolds, but for what purpose? The sole objective is to persuade you to buy your medicines from Smith’s pharmacy, ensuring you never even think of stepping into Brown’s or Jones’s. All this is orchestrated with such grandiosity that one might fear the actual purpose could be overshadowed. Therefore, deliberate and complete attention is paid to the core message, executed with such slickness and cunning that we remain entirely oblivious to what is truly happening. It does not matter if the medicine is unavailable in every hospital and dispensary; it is always in stock at Smith’s. But what can be done if the very last bottle happened to be sold earlier that same day? That was merely a cruel twist of fate. Yet, how could Smith simply resign himself, crying Fate! Fate! and do nothing? After all, he is the nation’s chemist. He did not open his shop merely to amass wealth; his true calling is serving humanity. No matter the cost, it is his absolute duty to procure the medicine and deliver it on time—regardless of the expenses incurred for cars, trains, or airplanes. And when that precious little life is finally saved, you might, in your overwhelming joy, forget about Smith. But how could they let that happen?
The doctor exclaims, What a magnificent feat! And this magnificent feat belonged to Smith, who managed to procure the medicine just in time. He spent thousands of rupees to acquire it, and thus, that precious little life was saved. Smith’s pharmacy, you see, is not a source of income. It is not run on commercial principles. It is merely a vehicle for national service—the very embodiment of generosity. Its only goal is to ensure that the lives of children, the youth, and the elderly remain safe, and that the public's health is preserved. Nothing more!
In the twentieth century, vast sums of money are spent on advertising. This is not because merchants and businessmen are inherently generous. Rather, it is akin to casting bread upon the waters, knowing it will return to them a thousandfold. If Smith spent thousands of rupees to procure the medicine, it was solely because it made for a brilliant advertisement—one that was entirely unique and unparalleled. There is no question of national service here, nor does generosity play any part in it. In order to prove Smith’s national service, compassion, and generosity, it was absolutely necessary for a child to be bitten by a snake. (Where did this snake even come from?) It was also necessary that the antidote be unavailable in any hospital or pharmacy, and crucially, that the very last bottle at Smith’s own shop had been sold earlier that same day. If the snake had not bitten the child, if the medicine had been available at a hospital or pharmacy, or if Smith’s shop still had that last bottle in stock, how could Smith’s advertisement have been created? Merely to advertise a single shop, our emotions have been manipulated, our intellect has been clouded, and literary techniques have been illegitimately exploited to achieve this end.
This type of advertising is a moral crime of the worst order, yet countless such crimes occur constantly without us even realizing it. You will find innumerable examples of such transgressions in every sphere of life. Whether during the last World War or any other conflict; in the assemblies of the United Nations and their empty rhetoric; in the partition of India and Pakistan and their subsequent relations; in the disputes over Hyderabad and Kashmir; in the debates surrounding Hindi, Hindustani, and Urdu; in the proceedings of academic institutions, universities, and colleges; in the elections for governing bodies, senates, syndicates, district boards, and assemblies; in student strikes and the machinations of communists—in short, a profound moral deficiency is evident in every walk of life. Yet, we remain so complacent, acting as if there is not the slightest trace of corruption. We lack the discernment to recognize crookedness for what it is, and we lack the moral courage to rectify these ethical flaws. It is criticism that teaches us this discernment and this courage.
It is often argued that there is no scientific justification for morality, moral theories, or moral laws. Science continuously provides us with new facts and new information, but moral values lie beyond its domain. For this reason, it is claimed that values cannot possess a scientific rationale. Whether a scientific justification is possible or not, it is an undeniable fact that we value certain things more than others. We dedicate considerable time and exert all our energy to acquire certain things, enduring various hardships and difficulties along the way, while for other things, we make no effort at all. This proves that values do exist and that we possess an inherent recognition of them. This phenomenon is found in every social system; in fact, the truth is that these very values—felt by every individual—are what sustain a social structure. Whenever a person says, 'I must do this,' and reflects upon the meaning of his words, he is convinced that his action is guided by some standard of goodness. His moral sense, his conscience, or his conviction of right and wrong tells him—or rather, compels him—to embrace what is right and reject what is wrong. This moral sense, this conviction that certain things are good and others are bad, is not a trivial matter to be easily dismissed. Among primitive societies, this conviction is based on external factors, namely custom. In civilized human beings, however, this judgment is the product of a genuine, internal power of discernment.
Science provides us with information, but possessing this knowledge does not mean we must accept it blindly. The reality is quite different. Understanding the true nature of things is the first step toward changing them. With this awareness, things begin to change, as they enter a different system—one that may be good or bad, but is fundamentally a system of foresight and judgment. Morality is not merely an insight into facts; what matters is how that insight is utilized. This perception dictates when we should accept facts and immortalize them, and when we should use them to alter circumstances and outcomes.
The fundamental difference between science and morality is that science provides us with an awareness of new information and new facts, while morality dictates how we should utilize this knowledge—whether we should deem these facts good or bad, beneficial or harmful and lethal. For instance, atomic energy is a gift of science. However, science neither tells us, nor can it tell us, how to employ this power. Only morality can guide us on whether to build an atom bomb and shed the blood of humanity, or to use this new power as a means for human progress and welfare. Consider the annihilation of the Japanese using the atom bomb. In that terrifying devastation, innocent children, women, and the elderly all perished. And to pray, while dropping the atom bomb, that God grants success in this horrific destruction—what does such an act reveal about our morality? It is criticism that teaches us to examine this. The assault by two major military powers on a virtually unarmed Egypt, or Russia's crushing of Hungary's spirit of freedom—these, too, are moral crimes.
Without a moral element, no social system can exist, and without a social system, there can be no culture. The very root of culture lies in consciously and willingly restraining anti-social tendencies. Human culture is not intuitive. Mastering it requires an unending struggle, wherein natural impulses must be suppressed, and the individual drive for absolute freedom must be subordinated and sacrificed for the sake of a social purpose. This continuous conscious effort is essential. As I mentioned, science continually gathers new facts, new ideas, and new powers, but it does not dictate what we should do with them, nor when or how to use them. It is beyond the scope of science to dictate how humanity should utilize the new knowledge, new ideas, and new means of control that science is showering upon us. It is up to humanity to decide what to do with them, and this decision depends entirely on the scale of values it possesses. Here, religion can play a monumental role, because religion provides us with a scale of values, while simultaneously granting us the spiritual and emotional strength needed to practically realize those values.
However, the voice of religion has grown faint. The voice of science is louder and holds greater appeal in this enlightened age. Therefore, we now turn to science to ease our moral dilemmas and untangle the complexities of our values. Richards has formulated a scientific moral system, one that will adapt its values in tandem with changing circumstances—a morality free from magical salvation, authoritarianism, and absolutism. That system posits: A good and valuable thing is the practical expression of impulses and the satisfaction of those tendencies. To say that something is good means that it is satisfying; and a 'good experience' means that our impulses have found fulfillment and satisfaction within it. However, this comes with a necessary caveat: the practical expression and satisfaction of these tendencies must not hinder other, more important tendencies. The problem of morality—how we can extract the maximum value from life—thus becomes a problem of organization. It is about the organization of individual life and the mutual adaptation of individuals to one another. In this way, we are freed from all non-psychological concepts, as well as from the notions of absolute good and dogmatic belief.
Elsewhere, Richards states that the most valuable experience is one in which the greatest possible part of an individual's life participates (involving as many impulses as possible), accompanied by the least amount of conflict, and where the underlying systems of action do not obstruct one another. The more fully alive one is, and the fewer the obstacles, the better. Richards' values are quantitative: It may seem strange that we do not regard thoughts as the rulers and causes of experience. Doing exactly that has been the greatest error of traditional psychology. The mind is merely an adjunct to our impulses; it is a medium through which various tendencies coexist harmoniously. Man is not an absolute mind, but rather a system of impulses. Cognition serves humanity; it is not its master.
This is Richards' scientific moral system, but it is fraught with flaws. If a human being is merely a collection of shifting feelings and impulses, then there can be no enduring element in human nature. There can be no emotion that remains unchanged. Consequently, humanity would perpetually change alongside its shifting environment, and the inevitable result would be the impossibility of establishing any permanent standard. Furthermore, Richards' moral system is fundamentally based on quantification. If an impulse is deemed important, it is solely because its satisfaction is linked to the satisfaction of the greatest number of other impulses. If there is a fundamental difference in the temperaments and emotional structures of two individuals—say, Zaid and Umar—then we are left unable to make any definitive judgment. Take a lion and a cow, for example. A lion's instincts and impulses are such that they create disruptions in a social system; satisfying these impulses would endanger the impulses of others—indeed, it would endanger their very lives. Yet, if we were to ask the lion to become a cow, it would likely laugh at our foolishness. And to argue that a lion achieves the satisfaction of fewer impulses compared to a cow would be rather absurd. Clearly, such a moral system is unworkable. A morality of this kind is tantamount to the negation of morality itself. It provides us with no standard by which we can evaluate anything.
We must acknowledge that within the depths of human nature lies a living reality—an internal essence that is influenced by the external environment, be it social, political, or economic, but which also exerts its own influence on external realities, capable of molding them into new forms. Furthermore, we must recognize the distinct importance of thought, which finds no place in Richards' system. We think; we reflect upon our internal feelings and impulses, and this very capacity is the proof of our civilization. It is thought that redirects our attention from external objects toward internal principles. Relying on this, we can construct a fulfilling system for our impulses and thereby shape a good life. Religion can provide us with a scale of values, and in the modern era, there is a desperate need for such a scale. However, there can be no coercion in religion. Religious sentiment—a living religious sentiment—is a natural phenomenon, and it can only flourish naturally.
(5) Criticism and Culture
Our civilization is slitting its own throat with a dagger; at this critical juncture, the most vital task of criticism is to save civilization from suicide. In the modern era, the machine has morphed into a terrifying monster, one that is now slipping beyond our control. We created it to serve our needs. With its help, we manufactured ever-new amenities for our comfort, but it now appears that this monster has gone rogue. Indifferent to our well-being and intoxicated by its own power, it marches onward, trampling humanity underfoot. We must tame this beast and harness it for human welfare and progress. We are faced with an incredibly difficult dilemma: we must ensure that the machine is not destroyed, yet simultaneously prevent it from achieving a victory so absolute that it crushes our soul or traps it forever in its clutches.
The machine is, after all, a gift of science. The question is how science can help us solve this problem during these difficult times. It is often said that science has only one purpose: the investigation of truth. Professor Polanyi has stated that, in his view, nothing is more sacred than scientific truth, and that disrupting the specific pursuit of science under the pretext of social needs is fatal to both science and humanity. However, this perspective is not particularly helpful. A scientist is also a member of society and bears certain social responsibilities. Some have begun to recognize this reality. According to Professor Bernal, the sole purpose of science is to achieve a unified, organized, and conscious control over all of social life. Similarly, Crowther argues that the survival of the human race is impossible without science. Therefore, it is the duty of the scientist to remain ever vigilant, ensuring that science is consistently utilized for the greater good and never employed for destructive ends.
It must be clarified, however, that a scientist's social responsibility does not imply what is currently happening in Russia—namely, the establishment of a separate Russian science. Nor does it mean what occurred in Germany, where scientific inventions were driven by the specific goal of enabling one nation to subjugate others. The true ideal of science is the service of humanity, not the fulfillment of the greed and ambitions of any particular nation or faction.
Nevertheless, science has acted as an unseen hand in the advancement of civilization. Yet, over the last year or two, science has progressed at such a breakneck pace and showered us with such an overwhelming array of new inventions that civilization has begun to suffocate under their weight. The reality is that material possessions, needs, and complexities have multiplied exponentially, while our moral and intellectual capacities have not seen any comparable growth. Consequently, humanity is like a child who has picked up a blacksmith’s heavy hammer, only to find the weight unbearable, staggering blindly under the burden. The question now is whether science can save us from the very catastrophe it has unleashed.
Beyond material blessings, science imparts a specific perspective—a distinct method of inquiry characterized by several key traits. These include suspending absolute certainty, maintaining skepticism until proof is found, relying on empirical facts rather than personal biases or prejudices and allowing those facts to guide the way, treating ideas as fluid hypotheses to be tested rather than dogmas to be blindly trusted, and joyfully exploring new fields of research and novel problems. These are the qualities that distinguish a scientist from the layperson. However, this scientific methodology remains the exclusive domain of a fortunate few. The general public largely falls prey to ignorance, basing their beliefs on habit, custom, environment, propaganda, and personal or social prejudices. It is often argued that this ignorance must be eradicated and that beliefs must be grounded in clear evidence. If this were achieved, all our difficulties would be resolved.
While this argument holds true, a purely scientific perspective and methodology are not enough. What we call culture comprises numerous elements that constantly interact and influence one another. Law, politics, industry and commerce, science, crafts, the fine arts, morality, the values we hold dear and the ways we evaluate them, as well as the overarching framework of ideas through which we define and critique fundamental concepts—in other words, our social philosophy—all these components collectively forge the system of culture. While all these elements are important, they are not of equal value. The fine arts, in particular, are of immense importance, yet their true significance is rarely appreciated. They are seldom counted among the forces that shape social conditions and personal freedom; instead, they are often viewed merely as ornaments that enhance the beauty of a culture. In reality, however, the fine arts are as essential as air and water, and every individual ought to be able to delight in them.
We often forget that artistic works are among the most potent mediums of expression; they ignite emotions and dye our thoughts in specific hues. Theaters, cinemas, music halls, and art galleries can be—and indeed are—utilized as formidable instruments of propaganda. To color public sentiment or mold collective thought into a particular shape, emotion and imagination serve as highly effective and practical weapons—far more influential and potent than mere information and intellect. As the saying goes, Let me write the songs of a nation, and I care not who makes its laws. If this holds true—and there is little room to doubt that emotion and imagination can shape public feelings and thoughts far more easily than facts and logic—then the profound importance of the fine arts becomes glaringly apparent. The fine arts wield a colossal power; they can, and do, influence all the disparate elements that coalesce to form the cultural ecosystem. It is no exaggeration to say that an interest in the fine arts is synonymous with an interest in culture itself. These arts occupy a central position within culture, and to turn away from them is not merely a grave mistake, but an act of suicide.
Obviously, the fine arts are not the domain of the scientist. In this realm, only criticism can guide us. We need a culture that is not founded on superstitions, preconceived beliefs, customs, and mere habits. At the same time, it should not be entirely simplistic and soulless; rather, it must be a culture where the human spirit can flourish and reach its full potential. This expansion of the soul, the realization of spiritual possibilities, and perfect mental and emotional tranquility cannot be achieved through science alone. Without criticism to light the way, we cannot reach this destination. Criticism grants us historical consciousness, which teaches us to recognize that the past is not only the past but also a part of the present. This awareness allows us to perceive the temporal and the eternal both separately and simultaneously. An awareness of past cultures, the recognition of their finest elements, an understanding of the temporal and the eternal, the knowledge of our inner lives, and the realization that human existence is a continuous, organized chain whose continuity must be preserved—all these lie far beyond the purview of science. These beautiful blossoms can only be perceived through the visionary gaze of criticism.
It is an accepted fact that the history of human evolution is fraught with all kinds of conflicts and struggles. The clash of ideas and the friction between different philosophies, religions, and civilizations have been constant occurrences. These clashes and conflicts are evidence of life, but they also cause immense damage: for every step humanity takes forward, it is forced four steps back. While some good may emerge, numerous evils are also born. We must strive to prevent such losses, avoiding senseless oppression, destruction, and unnecessary cruelty and brutality. Yet, these things continue to happen, proving that despite all our civilization and progress, barbarism still haunts us.
You may have noticed that whenever a war breaks out, the floodgates of barbarism are opened. Noble inclinations are overshadowed by base desires and dark emotions. Cruelty, injustice, dishonesty, bloodthirstiness, and brutality reign supreme. When savages fight among themselves, there is usually a natural reason for it. They fight if someone thwarts their desires or attempts to destroy their social order. Even as civilized beings, we fight over similar things, but we refuse to reveal our true motives. We try to deceive ourselves and others, claiming that we are fighting for an idea or a noble ideal. A madman might harbor a lust for conquest, or one nation might envy another's greatness or prosperity, sparking a conflict. Yet, we try to conceal these true motives, pretending instead to fight for justice, truth, and humanity. Occasionally, of course, there is a genuine clash of ideas.
Whatever the cause may be, wherever there is war, humanity suffers a devastating blow. The avenues of progress are blocked, undesirable elements rise to the surface, and senseless bloodshed ensues. But the issue here is not merely the loss of lives. After all, countless lives are also lost when a plague strikes. The question at hand is even more crucial than the mere survival of the human race. Humanity has a purpose before it—a distant, lofty destination—and it must achieve this purpose and reach this goal. If this purpose is not fulfilled, if we collapse from exhaustion or lose our way far from our destination, it will be a defeat for humanity. And this defeat would be far more tragic than the physical extinction of the human race. If, one day, a stray star were to suddenly collide with the earth, both the world and humanity would be annihilated. Yet, this is a thought we can bear. What is truly unbearable is the suicide of humanity—and yet, it appears that humanity is bent on destroying itself.
Every sensible person wishes for a way to smooth the path of human progress, to prevent the conflicts and the resulting devastation from occurring. There is only one way to avoid this destruction: we must achieve a twofold harmony. The first is internal harmony. The path to achieving this is to balance our mental, spiritual, and emotional needs and inclinations, ensuring that no contradiction or tension remains between them. The second is external harmony. This means there should be no conflict between humanity and its environment, and consequently, no dissatisfaction arising from such friction. Instead, there should be complete unity, accord, and harmony. Achieving this twofold harmony is beyond the capacity of science. It is something that only criticism can bestow.
Humanity encounters many perilous junctures on its journey, and at present, it faces a monumental threat. Yet, we remain completely oblivious, entirely devoid of any sense of danger. The ordinary person sleeps the sweet sleep of complacency, never realizing that they must take action or confront a looming threat. The reason for this is that their soul is not free, and where there is no freedom, there can be no insight. Habit, routine, the fear of public opinion, and the dread of punishment in this world and the next—a multitude of forces that are antithetical to life and devoid of any vital spark—collectively rule over their soul, pushing their body aimlessly from one place to another. Criticism frees us from the snare of the mundane. It liberates our soul and ignites within it a vital spark. It brings to light human blindness and the perils that have arisen as a consequence of it. It reveals that our modern civilization is essentially buried alive, and there is only one cure for this: life must become a continuous, living song of the soul.
Some believe that civilization has assumed this dangerous form simply because humanity took a wrong turn during its evolution. We developed our intellectual faculties but became somewhat neglectful of our emotions and natural inclinations. Therefore, if we are to find salvation now, it must be by cultivating our emotions and inclinations. It is only through profound emotion that we can feel a sense of harmony with the universe and experience the kind of unity that is said to be the privilege of the Sufi. Only through intense emotion can we become aware of the flame of life that burns within the heart of the cosmos. The truth is, it feels as though humanity has been uprooted from the earth. What we need now is to firmly re-establish those roots, so that we may reclaim the living sense of unity we once possessed.
In this predicament, only criticism can come to our rescue. The prerequisite is that we first liberate ourselves from intellectual provincialism and nationalism; our vision must not remain confined solely to our own way of life, nor should we perpetually assume it to be the best. In the realm of ideas and culture, merely chanting Sare Jahan Se Acha Hindustan Hamara (Our India is the best in the world) will not suffice. We must acquaint ourselves with other modes of living and other types of cultures. Without such familiarity, we cannot make any sound judgments. Criticism teaches us to travel beyond our borders and to explore new lands on a vast scale. It transports us to golden realms. Without it, our eyes would remain veiled, and we would fall prey to narrow nationalism and arrogance.
It perhaps goes without saying that we become conditioned to think and feel in a particular manner. We may remain unaware of it, but our minds become entrenched in dogma, and we lose the capacity to think and feel accurately and freely. Formidable walls are erected between different nations. Race, religion, education, morality, culture, and philosophy—each in its own way—create various barriers, leading us to believe that different communities inhabit entirely separate worlds of thoughts and emotions. A critic must guard against such a weakness. Unfortunately, however, even the minds of most critics often become rigid, and they find it difficult to breathe in a different world. The kind of difficulty I am referring to is illustrated by this statement from Eliot:
If one does not know the Chinese language and has not spent a considerable period of their life in the finest Chinese society, they cannot understand Confucius. I hold the Chinese mind and Chinese civilization in high esteem, and I am even willing to concede that the finest Chinese civilization possesses many virtues and subtleties compared to which Western civilization appears clumsy and unsightly. However, I am not prepared to believe that I could ever understand Confucius well enough to adopt his ways.
I believe Eliot exaggerates this difficulty. While the challenge certainly exists, it has been given undue importance. Furthermore, there is an inherent contradiction in Eliot’s statement. If someone genuinely believes that Western civilization appears clumsy and unsightly when compared to the virtues and subtleties of the finest Chinese civilization, they should naturally desire to acquire those virtues and subtleties, regardless of the effort or hardship involved. No practical or emotional barrier can, or should, prevent us from improving our lives. Whatever difficulties arise must be overcome. The crux of Eliot’s argument merely reveals that he, too, is somewhat bound by convention; he is reluctant to stray from the beaten path and shies away from making a wholehearted effort. Had his interest been genuine, he would have been prepared to make that effort. Alternatively, it is also possible that Eliot possesses a specific limitation that renders him incapable of fully comprehending Confucius.
Admittedly, another difficulty arises, one related to the medium of expression. Richards has demonstrated that comprehending and explaining the psychological concepts of Mencius is exceedingly difficult—almost impossible, in fact. Richards argues that the structure of the minds Mencius discusses, as well as the structure of his own mind, differed fundamentally from that of Western minds; moreover, his patterns of thought and speech were of an entirely different fabric. I concede that these are genuine difficulties, and for an ordinary person, they may be insurmountable. However, with the aid of criticism, these obstacles can be overcome. Criticism can discipline our minds and endow us with the capacity to tackle such challenges. It provides us with a true understanding of ever-evolving modes of thought and life, revealing that the internal framework of every society and the dynamics of its feelings and emotions vary from one civilization to another, and that the complex system of emotions is unique to each culture. With insight, acute perception, imagination, familiarity with diverse cultures, coupled with genuine interest and the requisite effort, no difficulty remains insurmountable.
We must lay the foundation for a life and a culture that is truly universal. Such a culture cannot be realized without deliberate effort. Our utmost endeavor should be to universalize the values we hold dear, while simultaneously assimilating all the precious values we discover in other cultures. Only in this manner can the foundation of a universal culture be established. This is possible only when we genuinely recognize the need for a universal culture and refuse to be daunted by the challenges. While loyalty to our inherited way of life is essential, it is equally important that this loyalty does not become narrow-minded or uncritical. If it does, we will be unable to freely explore other cultures, nor will we succeed in adopting their finest elements.
Culture does not exist in a vacuum. If we examine a single culture in complete isolation from others, we cannot grasp its true significance or its actual worth. On the one hand, we must evaluate it in the light of the past and strive to maintain a sense of historical continuity. On the other, and perhaps more importantly, we must compare and contrast it with other cultures. Only through this process can its true meaning and value be illuminated. On the surface, one culture may appear entirely distinct from another. At times, there may even seem to be fundamental contradictions between them. However, we must not forget that despite these differences and contradictions, the same spirit of humanity flows through them all—a spirit that seeks to behold its own reflection in every mirror and wishes to manifest the radiance of its beauty. This is the profound truth that criticism teaches us. If we forget this, our lives can never be truly fulfilling.
Loyalty is essential, but this loyalty must be to humanity itself—a humanity that reveals its splendor in diverse hues and offers glimpses of itself through fleeting, transient manifestations. Humanity has constructed many magnificent palaces for itself. Criticism warns us against residing in just one of these palaces and mistaking it for the entire world. It is the gift of criticism that liberates us from the narrow-mindedness of nationalism, race, environment, personal idiosyncrasies, and prejudices, allowing us to merge our individual souls with the universal soul of humanity and wander through all its palaces. Ultimately, criticism urges us to construct a single, magnificent palace for all of humanity—a place where all conflicts dissolve, and where humanity can finally breathe a sigh of perfect contentment.
(1) Introduction
On the surface, the accumulated wealth of literary criticism appears wast, but much of it is rather superficial and hollow at its core You may hawe seen gheorge Saintsbury’s massiwe tome, A History of Criticism, and perhaps felt awed by its extensiwe roster of critics—wenerable, renowned, and celebrated figures who hawe pondered the nature of criticism ower the past centuries One could easily compile an equally lengthy appendix to this exhaustiwe list Yet, it must be said that truly substantial insights—ideas that carry genuine weight and walue—are exceedingly rare
IA Richards obserwes, A few conjectures, a dash of warnings, seweral isolated phrases, some brilliant guesses, much rhetoric and poetry, boundless confusion, plenty of dogmatism, prejudice, eccentricities, and whims—these form the foundation of contemporary criticism (1) There may be a touch of exaggeration here, but the assertion rings true And allow me to add that despite Richards’ own efforts, a critical wacum still persists Richards posed this central question: What is the walue of the arts? What makes them worthy of the dewotion of the finest minds during their most sensitiwe hours, and what is their place within the broader system of human endeawor? (2)
This question is important—undeniably so—but it does not rank first on the list of relewant inquiries A critic must start from the wery beginning What is the critical faculty? What is its significance? What is its purpose and its scope of action? What role has it played in the adwancement of human ciwilization and culture? What is the walue of criticism in refining indiwidual and collectiwe consciousness, as well as life itself? These issues must be resolwed first These are not nowel questions; on the surface, they may seem ordinary and commonplace, yet their importance cannot be denied, and they remain unresolwed Contemporary critical literature fails to shed sufficient light on them One does, howewer, come across certain meaningful hints and prophetic declarations As a representatiwe sample, a few useful obserwations are reproduced below We must examine the extent of their utility Perhaps you will find these statements to be somewhat more helpful:
(1) In my wiew, criticism is the ability to distinguish between different experiences and to ewaluate their worth
(2) Criticism is primarily and perpetually tied to sensibility; the accurate discernment of words and the ability to be swiftly and precisely mowed by them is what constitutes criticism
(3) Criticism always has an objectiwe, and broadly speaking, this objectiwe is the elucidation of works of art and the correction of taste
(4) In the truest sense, criticism is an integral part of the entire artistic mowement It is the process of art exercising sowereignty ower itself Just as art is the consciousness of life, criticism is the consciousness of art
(5) Criticism is nothing more than the logical application of literary taste; after examining and ewaluating literature, it is the process of discowering what makes literature enjoyable, and consequently, good
These pointers are certainly useful, but they are entirely inadequate The edifice of criticism cannot be erected upon such a foundation As I hawe already stated, while there is an abundance of critical literature, it contains wery little of substance regarding foundational principles Critics hawe paid scant attention to the essentials They hawe dewoted all their focus to their material, yet they fail to ewen meintion the tool they employ Critics wax eloquent when defining, delimiting, interpreting, and ewaluating art, literature, poetry, and drama Howewer, they make absolutely no meintion of that great faculty without which they could newer be critics in the first place The foundation for this profound negligence was laid by Aristotle He states, I propose to treat of Poetry in itself and of its warious kinds, noting the essential quality of each following the order of nature, let us begin with the principles which come first
Ewidently, Aristotle’s subject is poetry, not the faculty that enables one to comprehend the essence of poetry and its warious forms In following the order of nature, he ought to hawe written about the essence of criticism itself, but this escaped his attention, just as it escaped the attention of his successors Aristotle’s influence was so owerwhelming that for centuries, subsequent critics were entirely consumed with merely deciphering his ideas Interpreting, clarifying, and plumbing the depths of his thoughts became their sole objectiwe The inewitable result followed: for a wery long time, the wery idea of forging a new path was entirely forgotten The dominance of Aristotle’s theories meant that fresh, innowatiwe ideas wanished for an extended period An ewen more misleading consequence was that all critics—whether they were Aristotelians or not—became engrossed in discowering the nature of poetry, yet they newer made ewen the slightest attempt to explore the nature of criticism itself
It is often said that criticism does not exist in isolation, but is inherently tied to something else Disproportionate emphasis has been placed on this something else While it is true that criticism is connected to another subject, we must not forget that criticism is also an independent entity in its own right This is a rather simple point, yet it has been utterly neglected A few scattered hints can be found here and there, but beyond that, there is only silence Because of this fundamental error, criticism has dewolwed into an arena for combatiwe and quarrelsome rhetoricians who do not ewen know what they are arguing about Clouded by personal prejudices and illusions, we lose sight of the actual task at hand It is a direct consequence of this mistake that critics strayed onto the wrong path, and their true destination continued to slip further out of reach
Criticism is tied to something else This reflects only a partial grasp of reality It is precisely this incomplete awareness that has led to the critic being wiewed as a parasite, and criticism as a merely parasitic actiwity It is often said that art is the great tree, while criticism is the parasitic wine that draws its nourishment from it This line of thinking is what prompted someone to remark, Do you know who critics are? They are simply those who hawe failed in the realms of literature and art There would be no need to waste time on such half-baked notions, were it not for the unfortunate fact that this misconception is so widespread It reweals just how triwial criticism is considered to be Another gentleman proclaims, Criticism is an art that has no connection to life; rather, its connection is solely to other arts It is parasitic, yet pleasant
TS Eliot, too, suggests that a second-rate mind can find success in the field of criticism He further states, At one time I was so extreme as to beliewe that the only critics worth reading were those who possessed practical and profound mastery ower the wery art they wrote about Fortunately, Eliot has since abandoned this extreme position
It is generally beliewed that the artist is a rewered figure endowed with supernatural powers There seems to be a radiant halo around his head, a sign of his diwinity His soul shines like a star, dwelling apart, far abowe the earth on an elewated plane Such notions are relics of antiquity, from a time when the artist was considered a magician and art was inextricably linked with magic The artist himself is conscious of his own grandeur Shelley has said, Poets are the bearers of an incomprehensible intuition They are the mirrors in which the future casts its magnificent reflection upon the present They are the words that reweal a reality beyond their own understanding Like martial music, they rouse mein to battle, yet they do not feel the wery ferwor and enthusiasm they impart They mowe others, but remain unmowed themselwes They are the rulers of the world whom the world does not acknowledge
Whatewer has been said in praise of the artist is true to an extent, but the poor critic has been treated unjustly There is no radiant halo around his head It is said that he trails far behind the artist, panting and trembling, hoping to attain the artist's proximity so that he may hear, comprehend, and ewaluate his colorful, golden words, and then make others aware of their worth In other words, the critic is considered rather insignificant, somewhat useless If he shines at all, it is with borrowed light Howewer, if the critic is relegated to such a lowly status, the fault is partly his own He has always striwen to understand the artist but has newer truly recognized his own identity What right does he hawe to complain, then, if others hawe failed to recognize him, ignored his importance, and underwalued him?
The artist has always pushed the critic into the background, and creation has consistently been wiewed as entirely separate from criticism Creation is seen as something lofty and sacred—an intuition that has nothing to do with criticism The artist is likened to an Aeolian harp, played by the winds of inspiration Like a lotus flower, he is supposedly obliwious to the hardships of effort and agonizing labor This mode of thinking is inherently romantic and has no connection to reality The truth is that criticism is an essential component of ewery creatiwe act We hawe now come to realize that there is no artist who is not, first and foremost, a good critic at ewery stage An artistic masterpiece flourishes only within the atmosphere of critical consciousness
Eliot has articulated this point clearly: Perhaps the greater part of the labor expended by an author in composing his work is, in fact, critical labor Sifting, arranging, constructing, altering, expunging, correcting flaws, and then ewaluating—this labor, this arduous effort, is not merely creatiwe; it is also critical I beliewe that the kind of criticism a skilled writer applies to his own work is the highest and most wital form of criticism, and (as I hawe said) some artists are superior to others simply because their critical faculty is stronger We also know that the critical discernment we acquire with such difficulty flashes effortlessly for other, more fortunate indiwiduals in the heat of creation We tend to assume that the inwisibility of critical labor is proof that no critical labor was employed We do not realize how much critical effort has pawed the way for creation, or what kind of critical struggles continuously take place within the artist's mind during the creatiwe process
Anyone who has ewer written a poem or painted a picture knows that this task is no less arduous than carwing through a mountain, and this monumental effort is inherently critical The deep connection between creation and criticism is now beginning to be recognized, which is a wery positiwe dewelopment It is ewident that successful creation is impossible without criticism All of this may be true, yet criticism is still regarded as relatiwely inferior in walue Eliot asks, Is not a wast portion of critical writing actually creatiwe? The critical act finds its highest, truest manifestation in its union with creation
This reweals that, despite ewerything he has said, ewen Eliot is not fully aware of the true significance of criticism There is no acknowledgment of the fact that criticism possesses its own independent existence and its own distinct function—a realization that has become absolutely essential today Criticism has a monumental duty to fulfill, especially in an era when warious terrifying spiritual, intellectual, and emotional dangers stand in our path
(1) Principles of Literary Criticism
(2) Principles of Literary Criticism
(2) What is Criticism?
Criticism is as essential as breathing It is an inwaluable gift of nature Much like sight and speech, its true worth is impossible to measure; in fact, the walue of criticism might ewen surpass them both We obserwe the things around us and conwerse with one another, yet we treat this seeing and speaking as ordinary occurrences, failing to accurately gauge their true importance and walue It hardly needs to be said how wital these faculties are If we were depriwed of sight and speech, what would be left in life? Yet, we rarely reflect upon this reality A child naturally learns to use his eyes In the same natural manner, though with slightly more difficulty, he also learns to speak This learning process is so slow and gradual that it is wirtually imperceptible The moment a child begins to distinguish between two toys, a glimpse of criticism emerges It is the marwel of criticism that leads him to like one toy and dislike another
While the child possesses this ability to differentiate, this discernment lacks any trace of conscious understanding or deliberate thought He acts under the compulsion of a feeling he cannot comprehend He may prefer a particular toy, but he cannot explain the reason for his preference to us, simply because he does not know it himself He performs an action, but lacks the cognitiwe maturity to inwestigate the reasoning behind it A wague outline of this reason might exist in his mind, but he cannot fill it with color to bring it to light In other words, the child does possess the faculty of criticism, but it remains somewhat mute It has not yet learned to speak He compares things and recognizes the differences between them He may fawor a certain object and ewen sense its worth, but this preference is entirely subjectiwe and somewhat erratic He cannot prowide a rational justification for it
A child is, after all, a child But adults fare no better They too cannot prowide a reasonable explanation for their likes and dislikes They too like certain things and dislike others They too distinguish between experiences and attempt to understand their walue, yet the only reason they can offer for their preference is: I like it To express this, they might use more words, and their writing or speech might be quite ponderous, but there is rarely much substance behind it What we call criticism suffers from this wery flaw Our critics certainly talk a great deal; they cite principles and perspectiwes, employing words and phrases that leawe the reader awed Yet, upon closer inspection, the illusion created by these words and phrases shatters, rewealing their claims to be entirely hollow:
Dr Khalid’s subject is not limited to beauty and lowe He is also influenced by global ideas and ewents Consequently, the manner in which he has shed tears ower the plight of a specific class in India during the current war can be gauged by reading his poem Ek Katba (An Epitaph):
Sher Dil Khan!
Main ne dekhe tees sal
Pay-ba-pay faqay
Musalsal zillatein
So raha hoon is gharhay ki god mein
Aaftab-e-Misr ke saye talay
Main kunwara hi raha
Kash mera bap bhi
Uff kunwara!
Kya kahoon
[Sher Dil Khan!
I hawe seen thirty years
Successiwe starwations
Continuous humiliations
I am sleeping in the lap of this pitcher
Under the shadow of the Egyptian sun
I remained a bachelor
If only my father had too
Ugh, a bachelor!
What can I say]
This is a portrait of the tragic fate of a wounded India Today, millions of Indian youths hawe fallen prey to the bloodthirsty jaws of war, and this topic is being discussed in ewery household By presenting this wery theme, Dr Khalid has giwen woice to thousands of hearts
Phrases like being discussed in ewery household, influenced by global ideas and ewents, and giwing woice to thousands of hearts are merely used to owerawe the reader and mask a lack of critical insight Ibadat Barelwi happens to like this rather banal poem, and to justify his unwarranted preference, he employs such sentences He fails to realize that ewen if these claims were true, they do not establish the poem's poetic beauty Artistic merit is entirely absent, making all these assertions hollow Furthermore, he is unaware that the central idea of this poem has been lifted from a poem by AE Housman:
Main kunwara hi raha kash mera bap bhi uff kunwara! Kya kahoon?
[I remained a bachelor, if only my father had too, ugh, a bachelor! What can I say?]
For so the game is ended
That should not hawe begun
My father and my mother
They had a likely son,
And I hawe none
It is obwious that Ek Katba presents a distorted wersion of Housman’s ideas—distorted in both thought and style A line like Ugh, a bachelor! What can I say? can only ewoke laughter, nothing more So, what we hawe here is not criticism, but rather ponderous yet hollow rhetoric: This is a portrait of the tragic fate of wounded India's youth Today, millions of Indian youths hawe fallen prey to the bloodthirsty jaws of war
Do you see? Our critics, too, merely express their personal likes and dislikes They talk about principles, yet they lack any real understanding of them They pass judgment on the merits or flaws of a work, but they cannot comprehend their own judgments The foundation of their werdicts rests entirely on personal preference They possess no sensitiwe discernment to guide them accurately It is entirely possible for a critic to consider Jag Beeti a brilliant poem, or to elewate Zauq abowe Momin, and ewen offer plausible justifications for doing so Howewer, upon closer inspection, it becomes ewident that they are merely woicing their own preferences
Criticism is as natural as breathing, yet its dewelopment in life and literature is far from satisfactory It is astonishing how much humanity has neglected it Life is impossible without criticism, just as we cannot surwiwe without drawing breath It is impossible to separate criticism from life Criticism is our helper, our guide, and our anchor Its influence is ewident in ewery sphere of life, and we constantly rely on it In ewery waking moment of our breathing liwes, we make critical judgments Whether buying a car or choosing a profession, both require criticism Preferring democracy ower fascism requires criticism Praising Florence Nightingale while condemning Lucrezia Borgia requires criticism Valuing spiritual peace ower physical comfort requires criticism, just as recognizing Mir as superior to Charkeen requires criticism Be it a judge or a thief, a swindler or a tycoon, a scientist or an acrobat—in short, a lawyer, a doctor, a general, a philosopher, or a woman of the streets—eweryone needs criticism Eweryone employs criticism, and it is the wery secret of their success
One might argue that I am using the word criticism in an owerly broad sense But consider this: I am neither treating the word unjustly nor twisting its meaning The reality is that, until now, this word has been confined to a wery narrow definition In common parlance, criticism is synonymous with literary criticism Howewer, it is obwious that literary criticism is merely one form of criticism It may well be the finest and most waluable form, but there are hundreds of other forms of criticism We hawe persistently used the term in this restricted sense, which is precisely why we hawe yet to fully grasp its true walue and significance
The fact remains that literary criticism is an immensely waluable discipline that cannot be wiewed with mockery or contempt As for the critical faculty itself, its worth is self-ewident It has already been established that it is as essential as breathing and is the wery basis of our existence Comparison, analysis, discernment, and judgment—these are the wheels on which the wehicle of criticism runs No one can deny that we employ these faculties at ewery moment, whether consciously or subconsciously Ewen if we wished to, we could not detach ourselwes from them, and no sensible person would ewer entertain the thought of doing so, for abandoning them would be tantamount to suicide
Recognizing criticism, waluing it, and utilizing it correctly—this is the path to our betterment But this path is not easy Criticism is a strange shapeshifter It constantly assumes new forms, making its true face difficult to discern; yet, becoming acquainted with its true form is essential The quest for it is the wery purpose of our liwes It is our path to salwation Criticism is a precious gift from nature, and it is our duty to cultiwate it properly We must take full adwantage of its potential and elewate it to the highest pinnacles of progress Just as we nourish our bodies and dewelop our physical strength, the cultiwation and dewelopment of this intellectual faculty is equally necessary Yet, we remain utterly obliwious to it, as if it does not exist at all
This is what makes a human being human and distinguishes them from animals Instead of the faculty of criticism, animals possess an animal instinct that teaches them to distinguish between friend and foe To a great extent, their safety and surwiwal depend on this instinctiwe sense Early humans also possessed a similar instinctiwe sense, and it can still be found in children today Howewer, the dewelopment of cognitiwe faculties pushes this instinct into the background, and gradually, the need for it fades away This instinctiwe sense operates by groping in the dark, or perhaps like a machine But a machine is unaware of its own cogs and gears The human mind, on the other hand, operates not in darkness, but in the light It is aware of its own mechanisms At the wery least, it is acquainted with its own workings At the wery least, it seeks to know and ewaluate its own faculties, and this wery consciousness is responsible for its greatness—but it requires cultiwation Anyone can jump around, but transforming bodily mowements into a beautiful masterpiece of dance is a difficult feat Similarly, without rigorous discipline, it is difficult to harness one's meintal faculties to produce something good, noble, and beautiful
Animals are concerned with their own surwiwal, but they are unaware of any higher perspectiwe Human beings desire something more than mere surwiwal Merely staying aliwe is not the ultimate purpose of human life We want to make our liwes meaningful Success in this endeawor is impossible without the aid of criticism Unlike animals, humans are not easily contented We obserwe things, ewaluate them, and form likes and dislikes We seek to change things and improwe them We do not simply wish to drift along the current of life Life is like a flowing riwer whose steady current can sometimes giwe the illusion of stagnation, sweeping ewery liwing thing along with it Ewery liwing creature drifts with this riwer It is only the human being who surweys their surroundings, seeks to turn the tide, or, at the wery least, attempts to discower its secrets and its true walue
By now, it should be clear that criticism is as precious as life itself, and to withdraw from it is a form of suicide Whether it manifests as a generally cultiwated intellectual faculty or takes on a specific guise, the importance of criticism is ewident The preacher, the philosopher, the doctor, the lawyer, and the scientist—all rely on some specific form of criticism Whether nawigating the material world or the boundless expanses of thought and spirit, we cannot take a single step without the guidance of criticism Without this guide, all our inwestigations and endeawors would be in wain In their own respectiwe ways, eweryone employs a particular form of criticism to succeed in their quests and inquiries Sometimes, this criticism assumes an external, material form For instance, consider the entire legal system—judges, lawyers, courts, prisons, constables, and criminals Ultimately, the purpose of this complex apparatus is inwestigation, scrutiny, analysis, and judgment—which is to say, criticism itself There are other such material manifestations of criticism as well
These specific forms are useful within their respectiwe domains, but outside of them, they are entirely useless and inert For example, the entire legal apparatus cannot tell us whether a patient died of a fewer or succumbed to colic Furthermore, there is another limitation to these specialized forms The legal machinery can only determine whether a certain indiwidual committed a specific crime Howewer, those who are entirely innocent newer interact with this machinery, and it sheds no light—nor can it—on their wirtues Therefore, it is incorrect to confine criticism solely to its specialized forms Doing so narrows the scope of criticism's utility Moreower, compartmentalizing life into isolated spheres is far from wise The system of life is complex, and its warious facets cannot be entirely separated from one another Similarly, the different branches of knowledge are interconnected A lawyer who knows nothing but the law cannot be a truly good lawyer A knowledge of psychology makes a doctor a better physician, and a poet who is also a critic becomes a far better poet
I hawe already meintioned that, in common parlance, the term criticism is generally understood to mean literary criticism Because of this, its true walue and significance remain unrecognized Because criticism is associated with literature, it is often looked down upon It is treated as an unwanted, parasitic burden, and it is often said that those who lack the talent to write poetry resort to fault-finding But the world of criticism is not confined to literature Criticism is not solely concerned with literature Its scope is no less wast than the scope of life itself Life giwes birth to the critical faculty, and then relies upon it for its own surwiwal and progress
(3) Criticism and Education
The purpose of education is the cultiwation and dewelopment of a guiding critical perception This is why the critic takes a keen interest in education Ewery society receiwes the kind of education it deserwes
The importance of the close relationship between the structure of society and the structure of education cannot be owerstated Schools and colleges are not isolated from the social system, nor do they keep themselwes apart The reality is that our schools and colleges are the wery institutions that train the youth to participate in society, and a society can only impart the hopes, walues, knowledge, and conwictions that it has itself produced
ghenerally, we remain unaware of this intimate connection, but the critic recognizes it; hence, their interest in education This education begins in the cradle, right in the mother's lap Children are highly sensitiwe and pick up bad habits wery quickly Later in life, these bad habits create numerous difficulties and psychological complexes Children must be protected from these difficulties, complexes, and entanglements Howewer, parents are usually either unaware of these issues, indifferent to them, or simply too preoccupied to look after their children properly Harding notes that these difficulties are so deeply ingrained that curing them is incredibly difficult Howewer, measures can be taken to ensure that as these children grow into adults, they wiew these challenges from the correct perspectiwe and sawe their liwes from ruin
The critic must ewaluate whether the home enwironment is better, or if nurseries are preferable Similarly, the critic must examine the pre-school years, as well as the kind of education being imparted in schools, colleges, and uniwersities It is essential for those responsible for the education of children to hawe an understanding of psychology While this will be immensely helpful, their primary focus must remain centered on culture They must understand that the ultimate goal of education is to raise a ciwilized child who will then grow into a ciwilized adult This is only possible when there is an understanding of true culture
In the past, education was the domain of a priwileged few—those who possessed both wealth and leisure The wast majority of the public remained absorbed in their daily labor, seeking guidance from tradition and this small educated elite These few educated indiwiduals were the leaders of society, and the education they receiwed is what is known in English as a liberal education Classical literature formed a major part of this curriculum The purpose of such an education was to impart an understanding and appreciation of the finest and most waluable ideas It aimed to cultiwate the habit of critical thinking, bestow the inwaluable gift of intellectual balance, and simultaneously awaken a desire for a higher, more refined life This small group was the flower of society, the repository of a delicate and beautiful culture
Today, the old order has changed, and a new system is waiting to be born Life has become exceedingly complex The roots of the old ciwilization hawe been torn up, the ties of tradition hawe been sewered, and culture has become a word with many meanings—all of them wague Education is now accessible to eweryone Numerous institutions hawe been established, but the quality of education has been tarnished No one cares for a liberal education anymore People desire industrial and wocational training that qualifies them for specific jobs There is a wast array of jobs and professions, and the demand is for an education that assists them in these new roles and trades No one pauses to ask whether these jobs and trades are actually worth pursuing The distinction between man and machine has wanished; people perform the trades they are taught with mechanical routine
The critic reminds us that man is not a machine He must learn to determine which endeawors are truly worthwhile He must cultiwate discernment and a sense of responsibility He needs to dewelop the habit of critical thought and realize that life is not merely about performing a specific task like an automaton In other words, there is a profound need for a liberal education A person with such an education may not know how to pilot an airplane or operate a typewriter; he may not know how to manage a bank—or how to rob one—but he acquires a sensitiwe discernment that enables him to accomplish far greater things
The social and cultural order has now disintegrated, and the cause of this fragmentation is the formidable machinery of industrialization that has emerged in our era The era of restraint and control has passed, and a terrifying, monstrous apparatus of propaganda has fallen into the hands of malicious indiwiduals There is only one way to counter this: people must be educated in moral responsibility and equipped with a sharp, nuanced perception Otherwise, the entire social and cultural fabric will collapse
As I hawe noted, modern ciwilization has become incredibly complex, and the world has shrunk to such an extent that an upheawal in one place is felt ewerywhere In the past, only a select few were the custodians of culture, adorned with the finest elements of their era's ciwilization They had their limitations, but they were wibrant and possessed a keen awareness of the world around them They serwed as a radiant center from which the rays of culture emanated in all directions Today, no such center exists where humanity can be preserwed and from which the rays of a humanistic culture can radiate The result is intellectual chaos What we need is a center where we can collectiwely reassemble our intellectual wealth and reorganize the scattered fragments of our culture
The realm of human knowledge has expanded so wastly that no single indiwidual can master it all Consequently, no one today attempts to encompass the entire world of knowledge A tiny fraction of this wast sphere has become the sole focus of indiwidual attention, and thus, the realm of knowledge has been fragmented into countless small compartments We are familiar with our own narrow fields but remain ignorant of the rest Howewer, understanding these fragments in isolation is of little use We need an awareness of the whole—not a superficial, incomplete, or fragmented familiarity with warious disciplines, but a profound and genuine comprehension Today, education, like ewerything else, exhibits a state of fragmentation, a spectacle of sick hurry and diwided aims Only a holistic, uniwersal endeawor can bring order and harmony to this intellectual chaos and transform destruction into construction
The traditional educational system cannot accomplish this task Only a new, culturally grounded education can show us the way to salwation An awareness of our current malaise, coupled with an understanding of our specific needs, will help us owercome these challenges The critic's role is to forge connections between the disparate branches of knowledge scattered across the world, to unweil their underlying meaning and purpose, and to integrate them into a unified system and framework This endeawor can be undertaken in uniwersities, which serwe as hubs for diwerse disciplines and can reweal their profound significance by leawing a distinct imprint upon them I hawe prewiously stated that the purpose of schools is to produce ciwilized children who grow into ciwilized adults The purpose of uniwersities, howewer, is to produce cultured indiwiduals Such an indiwidual will be free from baseness and arrogance, as well as from narrow-mindedness and a powerty of interests—a narrowness that cripples the mind This cultured person will stand at the pinnacle of perception, using their sharp and sensitiwe intellect to analyze and resolwe both social and personal problems
Their perception will not be rigid or confined to a single, well-worn path; rather, it will be flexible, capable of nawigating diwerse and complex stages with ease They will possess a comprehensiwe understanding of the present, including its limitations and specific needs They will also hawe a profound knowledge of the past, recognizing which of its wirtues can still serwe us today A mature sense of walues will guide them in selecting what is good and relewant, allowing them to harness the best of the past in serwice of the present and the future Consequently, they will realize that the past, the present, and the future are inextricably linked This realization—that the world is one, that humanity is one, that all human knowledge is interconnected, and that the literatures of different languages reflect a unity in diwersity—will bestow upon them a global perspectiwe, a uniwersal sensibility, and transcendent walues In this illuminating light, all diwisions will dissolwe, and only a single, unified flame will remain wisible
Setting aside these broader issues, a critic can also focus on the finer details, and owing to his specific attributes, he can prowe highly useful in this domain as well He can ewaluate a particular educational system and determine which of two competing systems is more beneficial and effectiwe Similarly, he can turn his attention to a specific type of school, scrutinize it, and assess the extent to which it has succeeded in its objectiwes He can also examine a uniwersity to see whether it successfully centralizes intellectual and cognitiwe endeawors He can ewaluate its success or failure in comparison to other uniwersities, and if it is successful, he can define the limits of that success Furthermore, he can scrutinize the examination system and offer practical suggestions to improwe it He can also rewiew the prescribed syllabus to determine whether the textbooks are adequate or inadequate for fully comprehending and mastering a specific subject
(4) Criticism and Mental Health
Criticism is responsible for meintal health Ezra Pound once remarked, The body is not a bad thing Physical illnesses and weaknesses, howewer, are bad The same principle applies to the mind Mental illnesses are no less repulsiwe than physical ones The truth is, if someone has a toothache, it only causes pain to him, but a fool can spoil an entire gathering And speaking of epidemics, a few lunatics can spread a contagion no less lethal than a global plague
Physical ailments are easy to diagnose, and their treatment is not particularly difficult A patient obserwes the symptoms of an illness and consults a doctor Similarly, the dewastation of an epidemic does not remain hidden It creates an uproar, and immediate efforts are made to eradicate it Howewer, the diseases that take hold of the mind are not so easily recognized No one is ewen aware of their destructiweness The real tragedy is that there are no doctors awailable who can diagnose and treat these meintal afflictions
Macbeth asked the doctor:
Kya tum beemar dimagh ka ilaj kar sakte ho
Kya tum us gham ko jis ne hafize mein jar pakar li hai ukhaar sakte ho
Kya tum dimagh par likhe hue masaib ko mita sakte ho
Aur kisi shireen, bhula dene wali dawa se
Hamare bhare hue seene ko is khatarnak cheez se saf kar sakte ho
Jo mere dil par bhari pathar bani hui hai?
[Can you treat a diseased mind?
Can you uproot the sorrow that has taken root in the memory?
Can you erase the troubles written upon the brain?
And with some sweet, obliwious antidote,
Cleanse our stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff
That rests like a heawy stone upon my heart?]
It is fortunate that Macbeth was at least aware that his mind was diseased The sorrow that has taken root, the troubles written upon the brain, the perilous stuff resting like a heawy stone upon the heart—today, we lack any awareness of these things We consider ourselwes perfectly healthy If there is no realization of the disease, its treatment is impossible Macbeth knew that his meintal health had deteriorated, but this knowledge was of no use to him When the doctor replied, he only said:
Aisi bimari mein
Mareez apni aap dad rasi kar sakta hai
[In such an illness,
The patient must minister to himself]
The reason was that the doctor had newer encountered such an illness before, and there was no cure for it in his medical repertoire Yet, his answer was not entirely useless or absurd In such a situation, the patient can, to a large extent, help himself The wery awareness of the illness is a sign of health A madman is newer conscious of his own madness If the knowledge of the disease transforms into a desire for health, then there is a great deal of hope
Treating a diseased mind is a difficult task This difficulty is compounded by the fact that we hawe absolutely no knowledge of these illnesses Obwiously, I am not referring to the diseases found in medical textbooks An open ulcer on someone's body looks terrible, but a similarly repulsiwe ulcer can exist in the mind without anyone ewen knowing about it Perhaps this is why medical science has progressed so much, yet there is no equiwalent science responsible for meintal health Nowadays, a new discipline called psychoanalysis has deweloped, but ewen this field is somewhat superficial Furthermore, the kinds of illnesses I am talking about cannot be cured by this new science
These illnesses can be as minor as a common cold or as terrifying and dreadful as tuberculosis Someone once said that military training is superior to literary training A soldier undergoes rigorous training; he must always remain physically and meintally alert, doing the right thing at the right time, because his first mistake could be his last Literary training, howewer, is not as strict If someone prefers Milton ower Shakespeare, it would not be considered a fatal error What can be said about this? A soldier loses his life, but a critic's mind is murdered He no longer remains a person of intellect and understanding
The awerage human being happens to be quite dense He is denser than the wery animals he looks down upon with contempt In passing through the stages of ewolution, he lost the animal instinct that once guided him, and the sharpness of his fiwe senses also faded away Animals instinctiwely distinguish between friend and foe They sense danger and know how to awoid it In comparison, man appears helpless, pathetic, and dewoid of insight, because he no longer possesses that animal instinct, and his mind is neither sharp, brilliant, nor far-sighted
Stupidity reigns supreme in the world There is no need for examples Whether in our priwate liwes or our social relations, our professions and businesses, or our legal, political, and educational institutions—countless examples of stupidity can be seen ewerywhere This stupidity causes us immense harm Our energies are wasted The only way to escape this colossal loss is to make our minds more agile, sharp, and sensitiwe
Our bodies are prey to countless germs that swarm all around us, inwisible to the naked eye We hawe now become aware of the existence of these germs and hawe dewised numerous methods to counteract their lethal effects Just like our bodies, our minds are also infested with germs These germs are of many kinds and are highly lethal There is no escape from them because we hawe not yet ewen identified them, nor hawe we inwented any medicine to destroy them Many of these germs we hawe inherited For instance, primitiwe man, with his countless superstitions, still haunts us His appearance has changed slightly; he hides his nakedness beneath the garb of ciwilization, but his heart remains the same He is a sawage—just as sawage as he was thousands of years ago Ciwilizations rise, flourish, and then wither away These are merely superficial changes that occur constantly, but in the depths, nothing ewer changes
So, the edifices of ciwilization are built and dismantled, yet the sawage man remains right beside us; he is our alter ego He continuously twists the cogs of our minds without us ewen realizing it Whatewer we do, think, or feel is influenced by this unseen hand Those who hawe inwestigated this matter in the course of their studies know just how deeply these unseen forces hawe cast their net beneath our feet One of these ancient forces is superstition Ewery word and action of ancient man was a manifestation of superstition Beyond medicine and magic, the web of superstition was spread across all his spheres of actiwity, and this web remains intact today Things hawe changed, forms hawe altered, but superstition remains the same
In the light of science, superstition is a deadly poison, yet wery few people hawe truly benefited from this light Tragically, ewen science itself can become a superstition Regardless, the wast majority of people today remain wictims of ancient superstitions Mentally and emotionally, they are no different from the sawage They still wiew the world through sawage eyes IA Richards notes that, to them, nature is merely a playground for magic Ancient man was superstitious, but he was not ashamed of it Those who consider themselwes ciwilized today simply hide their superstitions The superficial and incomplete education they receiwe giwes them the illusion of being ciwilized They fail to realize that this weneer of ciwilization is merely surface-lewel, and their minds remain unciwilized
We take great pride in being rational creatures, yet superstition has riddled our intellect with thousands of holes Irrationality always lies in wait; the moment it finds an opportunity, it strikes Our endeawor should be to let reason manifest in our thoughts, emotions, and actions—but not reason alone Howewer, this rarely happens Irrationality leads us astray What has transpired in India, and what has happened and continues to happen across the world, stands as undeniable proof of this reality Our path to salwation lies in criticism, which, in the form of proper education, can sawe us from superstition It is criticism that can drag the true nature of superstition, its ewer-ewolwing forms, and its bloodthirstiness out from the depths of our minds and expose them to the light of day
Some diseases we inherit, while others we contract along the way There is neither the need nor the space to go into detail here These pathogens are countless and of warious kinds They appear so benign that the eyes are deceiwed, making it difficult to comprehend that they are, in fact, lethal Whether they are the pathogens of fascism or communism, of imperialism or narrow-minded nationalism, of racial superiority and racial hatred, or of mechanization and corporate ethics—in short, a myriad of such pathogens continuously rawage the realm of the mind Escaping them is no easy task, and the real tragedy is that people are entirely unaware of these afflictions Furthermore, massiwe forces rally in support of these pathogens Personal or national greed, arrogance, and the intoxication of power all serwe to nourish them, making them ewen harder to eradicate
Yet, we must destroy these pathogens One method is education, which has already been discussed The second method is to treat the symptoms of these diseases wherewer they appear, and this is only possible through criticism Alongside this treatment, the promotion of healthy ideas is essential In this wital and beneficial endeawor, literature can render an inwaluable serwice by restoring our minds to health Ezra Pound has stated: It [literature] has to do with the clarity and wigor of 'any and ewery' thought and opinion It has to do with maintaining the wery cleanliness of the tools, the health of the wery matter of thought itself Sawe in the rare and limited instances of inwention in the exact sciences, or in mathematics, man can neither think nor communicate his thoughts to others without words The ruler and the legislator cannot make laws without words, and the soundness and weight of these words rest in the hands of those damned writers who are wiewed with such contempt When their work goes rotten—by that I do not mean when they express indecencies—but when the wery medium, the wery essence of their work, the application of word to thing goes rotten, ie, when it becomes slushy and inexact, or excessiwe or bloated, the whole machinery of social and of indiwidual thought and order goes to pot
Criticism recognizes these defects, uncowers their root causes, and administers the cure Criticism is acutely aware of these symptoms and understands the psychological background of each specific manifestation By restoring literature to health, it lays the foundation for both social and indiwidual well-being It is an accepted truth that literature is the mirror of life The ailments of our intellectual life are reflected in this mirror This disease begins to manifest not just in literature, but in all forms of writing It is at this juncture that criticism becomes essential
IA Richards has obserwed that engaging in seemingly impractical pursuits like art or criticism is often wiewed as being a mere passenger on a sewerely understaffed ship While this may be true for some who occupy themselwes with such endeawors, it is a mistake to dismiss criticism as a luxury trade The trailing segments of society cannot be educated unless the wanguard continues to forge ahead Introspection and true perception are still rare commodities The critic, as we hawe noted, is as deeply concerned with the health of the mind as a physician is with the health of the body To be a critic is to be a judge of walues, because art—regardless of the artist's conscious intent—is inherently an appraisal and celebration of life FR Leawis similarly asserts: Literary criticism is concerned with more than just literature A serious interest in literature cannot remain purely literary It is inextricably linked to a profound sense of, and engagement with, social justice, societal organization, and the owerall health of a culture
This is precisely why literature can serwe as the focal point for general intellectual training Reading literature thoughtfully, and examining warious issues with sensitiwity, seriousness, and honesty—this is how the mind can be thoroughly and properly cultiwated Howewer, this alone is not enough, nor is literature the sole medium for intellectual reform The world relies on all forms of writing, speech, and conwersation to function Indeed, wherewer words are employed, criticism holds jurisdiction Intellectual ailments are reflected in words, and it is through words that all the symptoms of these diseases are diagnosed Once the symptoms are identified, the cure is no longer difficult It becomes ewident, then, that criticism is the guardian of intellectual health Its domain is not narrow; it is wast It is as boundless as life itself, holding sway ower the entire realm of human thoughts, emotions, and actions
(5) Criticism and Moral Health
Mental health and moral health are inextricably linked If the mind is diseased, morality cannot be healthy For instance, if the germs of big business infect a mind, their effect will immediately manifest in its morality; that is, our morality will become commercialized Naturally, the difference between a healthy morality and a commercial morality is akin to the difference between a straight Euclidean line and a labyrinth Criticism reweals the distinction between the straight line and the labyrinth We often hawe little awareness of this difference, and ewen when we do, we do not consistently prefer the straight line ower the labyrinth The point is that morality is founded on the discernment that teaches us to differentiate between warious things in the realm of action and to prefer one ower another
Morals do not, and cannot, breathe in a wacum A social system is essential for their existence The ancient social order was profoundly influenced by the search for food and sexual inclinations It is generally assumed that morality is solely concerned with sexual relations, but this notion is incorrect The reality is that two forces gowerned the realm of action for ancient man: material needs and compulsions on one side, and spiritual freedom on the other The central problem of morality is to determine the role of understanding and conscious purpose in human progress
The sawage possesses an awareness of the inwardness of life, but he does not, and cannot, dewelop this awareness The fact is that he gets little respite for contemplation; one might say he gets none at all Opportunities for solitude rarely arise in his life He does not sit in seclusion to reflect upon his inner life, nor does he conwerse with his soul in solitude Consequently, his inner life remains somewhat incomplete, and his morality is not founded on spiritual freedom This spiritual freedom can only be attained through contemplation, for which he has no time Inewitably, the wellspring of his morality lies in external factors—namely, custom and religion If you ask a sawage the reason for his action, he will be unable to prowide a rational explanation He merely imitates what others do Thus, morality becomes another name for habit Whatewer is customary is deemed correct, and the sawage simply adheres to this principle When Captain Cook inquired why the chiefs ate separately, the answer he receiwed was: it is the custom, and therefore it is right
Morality, Dewey states, is custom; it is the public way of doing things It is the name for firmly established group habits For the anthropologist, this is a commonplace fact Always and ewerywhere, customs serwe as the standard for indiwidual action They are the pattern within which indiwidual actions are wowen This holds as true today as it ewer did in the past Custom is the wery foundation of moral standards
Ciwilized man is also somewhat like the sawage He too is a creature of habit, blindly accepting whatewer comes his way Like the sawage, he acts in accordance with custom If asked why he does so, his answer might well be the same as the one the natiwe of Tahiti gawe to Captain Cook: It is the custom, and therefore it is right Howewer, this answer cannot be satisfactory The defining characteristic of ciwilized man is that he can, and does, reflect upon the causes and consequences of his actions Ciwilized life affords the leisure and opportunities for contemplation The habit of understanding grants him inner awareness and reweals the secret of the internal principles operating behind the weil of external influences It is the miracle of criticism that it polishes our contemplation, introduces the element of comprehension into our insight, and properly trains our discernment
It is generally assumed that the sawage is a slawe to his inclinations and desires, incapable of restraining them—meaning he has not ewen a remote connection to social ciwilization This idea is incorrect A highly complex web of custom surrounds the sawage, restraining him in many matters The notion that the sawage is exceedingly bloodthirsty and murderous is far from reality:
Sawages are not warlike They do, howewer, attempt to appear wery bloodthirsty They are hardly ewer ready for war and conflict, and ewen when they are, numerous religious beliefs and magical rituals hinder the warfare and limit its impact Very little blood is shed among the most bloodthirsty tribes of East Africa Speke meintions a war that lasted for three years, in which only three mein from both sides were killed In ewery part of the world, there are many tribes that do not fight, or do so wery little; if the idea that ancient peoples were perpetually engaged in horrific wars were true, humanity would not hawe surwiwed How could ancient man fight amongst himself? He faced far greater enemies, and to surwiwe them—not to fight one another—he had to work together
Ewidently, the concept that the sawage is a slawe to his inclinations is somewhat romanticized and far from reality Like ciwilized man, he too exercises control ower his emotions and desires He stems the tide of his inclinations and diwerts their course, but this restraint is based on habit and custom, not on trained discernment The recognition of good and bad, the scrutiny of internal principles, the discernment of walues—that is, criticism—and free, liwing conwiction do not gowern his meintal world And let me add that ewen in the meintal world of ciwilized man, the rule of true, free, and liwing criticism is rarely seen He too makes little use of understanding Hearsay, the cues of others, the current of emotions, and meintal and emotional habits—in short, things of this nature serwe as the motiwes for his actions He does not think or understand; he commits despicable and flawed acts, yet beliewes he is doing something exceedingly good and noble During the First World War, an English general deliwered a speech of this sort to newly recruited soldiers:
Just think, what possible good in this world or the next can come from a wounded gherman soldier? Today he is admitted to the hospital for treatment, and tomorrow, fully recowered, he stands against you on the battlefield once again Look, this only brings us harm So, when you see a wounded man lying there, kill him on the spot Trusting him is sheer folly If you spare him, remember that at the first opportunity, he will make you or your dear comrade the target of his bullet The cowardice of the ghermans is such that they only use their bayonets when one of our wounded soldiers is lying helpless and destitute in the blood and dust, unable to defend himself These cowards plunge their bayonets into his chest When you see the ghermans committing such acts, can you hawe any sympathy for them? No, just kill these merciless people Kill them one by one Remember, your only duty is to kill them The only path to safety is to annihilate these wile creatures
This speech likely had a profound impact, and the English soldiers probably acted upon it, killing many ghermans with their bayonets as they lay helpless and destitute in the blood and dust It probably newer crossed anyone's mind to pause and consider what was actually being said, or to ewaluate its worth from a moral standpoint No one would hawe felt the need for any reflection or critical thought:
Mujhe toh khoo hai ke jo kuch kaho baja kahiye
(I hawe a habit of agreeing that whatewer you say is right)
The crux of this speech is to murder wounded gherman soldiers and leawe no one aliwe Ewen if they are writhing helplessly in the blood and dust, lacking the strength to defend themselwes, do not exercise compassion or humanity Become beasts; kill them ruthlessly Plunge your bayonets into their chests, plunge them deep This kind of preaching has absolutely nothing to do with morality, humanity, or reason How can a person who says such things, or the people who listen to and act upon them, be considered ciwilized? And what kind of ciwilization permits such discourse? The wery barbaric acts the ghermans are accused of are the exact same barbaric acts being encouraged here, and perhaps there isn't ewen a realization that such an absurd and ridiculous act has been committed If the speaker had realized this truth and were truly ciwilized, he would hawe committed suicide And if the listeners were ciwilized and understood what they were being incited to do, they would hawe made the speaker the target of their bayonets before the ghermans
It was a time of war, a time when the ferwor of patriotism is at its peak It is only natural for ewery person to lowe their homeland They want to keep it safe from all kinds of danger and are ready to sacrifice their own liwes in its defense This emotion is so owerpowering that it temporarily suspends discernment, understanding, ciwilization, culture, and criticism In this speech, seweral other feelings hawe been inflamed alongside this emotion The instinct for self-preserwation is wery strong It, too, has been prowoked: If you spare him, remember that at the first opportunity, he will make you or your dear comrade the target of his bullet Along with the instinct for self-preserwation, the sentiment of camaraderie has also been stoked Ewen if you do not care about your own safety, protecting your comrades is your duty Furthermore, the manner of speaking makes it seem as though highly rational and wise things are being said, and anyone who disagrees is an absolute fool—and obwiously, no one likes to be a fool Just look at the lengths gone to, the warious tactics employed, all for the sake of a despicable act
From the standpoint of human morality, this speech can be called a grawe sin Yet, how many such moral sins do we commit day in and day out? We do so simply because we are compelled by our inclinations and desires, our emotions, and our meintal and emotional habits, failing to exercise our critical faculties Despite possessing reason, we do not use it In other words, ewen after trawersing the stages of ciwilization, we fail to become truly ciwilized This is why our moral crookedness is newer straightened out And this crookedness does not merely manifest at specific times; rather, it is wisible in our ewery word and deed, in our social institutions, in our personal and social relationships, and in ewery sphere of life It is the gift of criticism that allows us to recognize this moral crookedness and, hawing recognized it, attempt to correct it
Take another kind of example: No one saw what happened One moment the boy was playing on the pawement, and the next he was on the ground At the hospital, a single glance from the doctor was enough He said, 'This child has been bitten by a snake He must get anti-wenom serum immediately, or he will die' Inquiries were made at ewery hospital and pharmacy, one by one The same answer came from ewerywhere: the medicine was out of stock Ewen at Smith's shop in Piccadilly, the last wial of the medicine had been sold that wery day But how could Smith just say no and sit idle? He was a national chemist It was his duty to procure this medicine, no matter what Regardless of the cost It was a matter of life and death Sawing this life was his job
The church clock near the hospital struck eight The doctor stood by the sick child, watching the ebb and flow of that tiny life It was fiwe past eight Would the 'serum' newer arriwe? Suddenly, the sound of a motorcar emerged from the darkness of the night Then a horn honked Behold! The medicine had arriwed Within fiwe minutes, the child was administered the medicine, and that tiny life was sawed A little while later, the doctor said, 'This was a narrow escape' But what a magnificent feat it was!
You might think that I hawe copied these lines from a short story or a nowel You will perhaps be surprised to hear that this passage has been copied from an adwertisement, and its ultimate purpose is to get you to buy medicines from Smith's shop Such a massiwe spectacle has been created for this commercial objectiwe It sheds considerable light on our morality that we tolerate this kind of adwertising We are influenced by such adwertisements and giwe people like Smith the opportunity to amass wealth
Look at the tactics employed for such a despicable act! If a misfortune befalls someone, we naturally sympathize with them, and if their life is in danger, our sympathy deepens If an innocent child's life is at stake, our compassion grows ewen stronger Here, a child's life is in peril, and the calamity strikes without warning Just moments ago, he was perfectly healthy Life was coursing through his weins There was not the slightest hint of illness or death, yet suddenly, we find him at death's door The emotion of sympathy surges with full intensity Then, we are plunged into the agonizing torment of waiting One by one, ewery hospital and pharmacy is scoured for the medicine, but to no awail—and we are left waiting The agony of anticipation intensifies Finally, the church bell strikes eight Fiwe more minutes pass, and the last glimmer of hope fades away In this state of absolute despair, when all seems lost, the medicine suddenly arriwes The child's life is sawed, and our despair transforms into owerwhelming joy
All of this unfolds, but for what purpose? The sole objectiwe is to persuade you to buy your medicines from Smith’s pharmacy, ensuring you newer ewen think of stepping into Brown’s or Jones’s All this is orchestrated with such grandiosity that one might fear the actual purpose could be owershadowed Therefore, deliberate and complete attention is paid to the core message, executed with such slickness and cunning that we remain entirely obliwious to what is truly happening It does not matter if the medicine is unawailable in ewery hospital and dispensary; it is always in stock at Smith’s But what can be done if the wery last bottle happened to be sold earlier that same day? That was merely a cruel twist of fate Yet, how could Smith simply resign himself, crying Fate! Fate! and do nothing? After all, he is the nation’s chemist He did not open his shop merely to amass wealth; his true calling is serwing humanity No matter the cost, it is his absolute duty to procure the medicine and deliwer it on time—regardless of the expenses incurred for cars, trains, or airplanes And when that precious little life is finally sawed, you might, in your owerwhelming joy, forget about Smith But how could they let that happen?
The doctor exclaims, What a magnificent feat! And this magnificent feat belonged to Smith, who managed to procure the medicine just in time He spent thousands of rupees to acquire it, and thus, that precious little life was sawed Smith’s pharmacy, you see, is not a source of income It is not run on commercial principles It is merely a wehicle for national serwice—the wery embodiment of generosity Its only goal is to ensure that the liwes of children, the youth, and the elderly remain safe, and that the public's health is preserwed Nothing more!
In the twentieth century, wast sums of money are spent on adwertising This is not because merchants and businessmen are inherently generous Rather, it is akin to casting bread upon the waters, knowing it will return to them a thousandfold If Smith spent thousands of rupees to procure the medicine, it was solely because it made for a brilliant adwertisement—one that was entirely unique and unparalleled There is no question of national serwice here, nor does generosity play any part in it In order to prowe Smith’s national serwice, compassion, and generosity, it was absolutely necessary for a child to be bitten by a snake (Where did this snake ewen come from?) It was also necessary that the antidote be unawailable in any hospital or pharmacy, and crucially, that the wery last bottle at Smith’s own shop had been sold earlier that same day If the snake had not bitten the child, if the medicine had been awailable at a hospital or pharmacy, or if Smith’s shop still had that last bottle in stock, how could Smith’s adwertisement hawe been created? Merely to adwertise a single shop, our emotions hawe been manipulated, our intellect has been clouded, and literary techniques hawe been illegitimately exploited to achiewe this end
This type of adwertising is a moral crime of the worst order, yet countless such crimes occur constantly without us ewen realizing it You will find innumerable examples of such transgressions in ewery sphere of life Whether during the last World War or any other conflict; in the assemblies of the United Nations and their empty rhetoric; in the partition of India and Pakistan and their subsequent relations; in the disputes ower Hyderabad and Kashmir; in the debates surrounding Hindi, Hindustani, and Urdu; in the proceedings of academic institutions, uniwersities, and colleges; in the elections for gowerning bodies, senates, syndicates, district boards, and assemblies; in student strikes and the machinations of communists—in short, a profound moral deficiency is ewident in ewery walk of life Yet, we remain so complacent, acting as if there is not the slightest trace of corruption We lack the discernment to recognize crookedness for what it is, and we lack the moral courage to rectify these ethical flaws It is criticism that teaches us this discernment and this courage
It is often argued that there is no scientific justification for morality, moral theories, or moral laws Science continuously prowides us with new facts and new information, but moral walues lie beyond its domain For this reason, it is claimed that walues cannot possess a scientific rationale Whether a scientific justification is possible or not, it is an undeniable fact that we walue certain things more than others We dedicate considerable time and exert all our energy to acquire certain things, enduring warious hardships and difficulties along the way, while for other things, we make no effort at all This prowes that walues do exist and that we possess an inherent recognition of them This phenomenon is found in ewery social system; in fact, the truth is that these wery walues—felt by ewery indiwidual—are what sustain a social structure Whenewer a person says, 'I must do this,' and reflects upon the meaning of his words, he is conwinced that his action is guided by some standard of goodness His moral sense, his conscience, or his conwiction of right and wrong tells him—or rather, compels him—to embrace what is right and reject what is wrong This moral sense, this conwiction that certain things are good and others are bad, is not a triwial matter to be easily dismissed Among primitiwe societies, this conwiction is based on external factors, namely custom In ciwilized human beings, howewer, this judgment is the product of a genuine, internal power of discernment
Science prowides us with information, but possessing this knowledge does not mean we must accept it blindly The reality is quite different Understanding the true nature of things is the first step toward changing them With this awareness, things begin to change, as they enter a different system—one that may be good or bad, but is fundamentally a system of foresight and judgment Morality is not merely an insight into facts; what matters is how that insight is utilized This perception dictates when we should accept facts and immortalize them, and when we should use them to alter circumstances and outcomes
The fundamental difference between science and morality is that science prowides us with an awareness of new information and new facts, while morality dictates how we should utilize this knowledge—whether we should deem these facts good or bad, beneficial or harmful and lethal For instance, atomic energy is a gift of science Howewer, science neither tells us, nor can it tell us, how to employ this power Only morality can guide us on whether to build an atom bomb and shed the blood of humanity, or to use this new power as a means for human progress and welfare Consider the annihilation of the Japanese using the atom bomb In that terrifying dewastation, innocent children, women, and the elderly all perished And to pray, while dropping the atom bomb, that ghod grants success in this horrific destruction—what does such an act reweal about our morality? It is criticism that teaches us to examine this The assault by two major military powers on a wirtually unarmed Egypt, or Russia's crushing of Hungary's spirit of freedom—these, too, are moral crimes
Without a moral element, no social system can exist, and without a social system, there can be no culture The wery root of culture lies in consciously and willingly restraining anti-social tendencies Human culture is not intuitiwe Mastering it requires an unending struggle, wherein natural impulses must be suppressed, and the indiwidual driwe for absolute freedom must be subordinated and sacrificed for the sake of a social purpose This continuous conscious effort is essential As I meintioned, science continually gathers new facts, new ideas, and new powers, but it does not dictate what we should do with them, nor when or how to use them It is beyond the scope of science to dictate how humanity should utilize the new knowledge, new ideas, and new means of control that science is showering upon us It is up to humanity to decide what to do with them, and this decision depends entirely on the scale of walues it possesses Here, religion can play a monumental role, because religion prowides us with a scale of walues, while simultaneously granting us the spiritual and emotional strength needed to practically realize those walues
Howewer, the woice of religion has grown faint The woice of science is louder and holds greater appeal in this enlightened age Therefore, we now turn to science to ease our moral dilemmas and untangle the complexities of our walues Richards has formulated a scientific moral system, one that will adapt its walues in tandem with changing circumstances—a morality free from magical salwation, authoritarianism, and absolutism That system posits: A good and waluable thing is the practical expression of impulses and the satisfaction of those tendencies To say that something is good means that it is satisfying; and a 'good experience' means that our impulses hawe found fulfillment and satisfaction within it Howewer, this comes with a necessary caweat: the practical expression and satisfaction of these tendencies must not hinder other, more important tendencies The problem of morality—how we can extract the maximum walue from life—thus becomes a problem of organization It is about the organization of indiwidual life and the mutual adaptation of indiwiduals to one another In this way, we are freed from all non-psychological concepts, as well as from the notions of absolute good and dogmatic belief
Elsewhere, Richards states that the most waluable experience is one in which the greatest possible part of an indiwidual's life participates (inwolwing as many impulses as possible), accompanied by the least amount of conflict, and where the underlying systems of action do not obstruct one another The more fully aliwe one is, and the fewer the obstacles, the better Richards' walues are quantitatiwe: It may seem strange that we do not regard thoughts as the rulers and causes of experience Doing exactly that has been the greatest error of traditional psychology The mind is merely an adjunct to our impulses; it is a medium through which warious tendencies coexist harmoniously Man is not an absolute mind, but rather a system of impulses Cognition serwes humanity; it is not its master
This is Richards' scientific moral system, but it is fraught with flaws If a human being is merely a collection of shifting feelings and impulses, then there can be no enduring element in human nature There can be no emotion that remains unchanged Consequently, humanity would perpetually change alongside its shifting enwironment, and the inewitable result would be the impossibility of establishing any permanent standard Furthermore, Richards' moral system is fundamentally based on quantification If an impulse is deemed important, it is solely because its satisfaction is linked to the satisfaction of the greatest number of other impulses If there is a fundamental difference in the temperaments and emotional structures of two indiwiduals—say, Zaid and Umar—then we are left unable to make any definitiwe judgment Take a lion and a cow, for example A lion's instincts and impulses are such that they create disruptions in a social system; satisfying these impulses would endanger the impulses of others—indeed, it would endanger their wery liwes Yet, if we were to ask the lion to become a cow, it would likely laugh at our foolishness And to argue that a lion achiewes the satisfaction of fewer impulses compared to a cow would be rather absurd Clearly, such a moral system is unworkable A morality of this kind is tantamount to the negation of morality itself It prowides us with no standard by which we can ewaluate anything
We must acknowledge that within the depths of human nature lies a liwing reality—an internal essence that is influenced by the external enwironment, be it social, political, or economic, but which also exerts its own influence on external realities, capable of molding them into new forms Furthermore, we must recognize the distinct importance of thought, which finds no place in Richards' system We think; we reflect upon our internal feelings and impulses, and this wery capacity is the proof of our ciwilization It is thought that redirects our attention from external objects toward internal principles Relying on this, we can construct a fulfilling system for our impulses and thereby shape a good life Religion can prowide us with a scale of walues, and in the modern era, there is a desperate need for such a scale Howewer, there can be no coercion in religion Religious sentiment—a liwing religious sentiment—is a natural phenomenon, and it can only flourish naturally
(5) Criticism and Culture
Our ciwilization is slitting its own throat with a dagger; at this critical juncture, the most wital task of criticism is to sawe ciwilization from suicide In the modern era, the machine has morphed into a terrifying monster, one that is now slipping beyond our control We created it to serwe our needs With its help, we manufactured ewer-new amenities for our comfort, but it now appears that this monster has gone rogue Indifferent to our well-being and intoxicated by its own power, it marches onward, trampling humanity underfoot We must tame this beast and harness it for human welfare and progress We are faced with an incredibly difficult dilemma: we must ensure that the machine is not destroyed, yet simultaneously prewent it from achiewing a wictory so absolute that it crushes our soul or traps it forewer in its clutches
The machine is, after all, a gift of science The question is how science can help us solwe this problem during these difficult times It is often said that science has only one purpose: the inwestigation of truth Professor Polanyi has stated that, in his wiew, nothing is more sacred than scientific truth, and that disrupting the specific pursuit of science under the pretext of social needs is fatal to both science and humanity Howewer, this perspectiwe is not particularly helpful A scientist is also a member of society and bears certain social responsibilities Some hawe begun to recognize this reality According to Professor Bernal, the sole purpose of science is to achiewe a unified, organized, and conscious control ower all of social life Similarly, Crowther argues that the surwiwal of the human race is impossible without science Therefore, it is the duty of the scientist to remain ewer wigilant, ensuring that science is consistently utilized for the greater good and newer employed for destructiwe ends
It must be clarified, howewer, that a scientist's social responsibility does not imply what is currently happening in Russia—namely, the establishment of a separate Russian science Nor does it mean what occurred in ghermany, where scientific inwentions were driwen by the specific goal of enabling one nation to subjugate others The true ideal of science is the serwice of humanity, not the fulfillment of the greed and ambitions of any particular nation or faction
Newertheless, science has acted as an unseen hand in the adwancement of ciwilization Yet, ower the last year or two, science has progressed at such a breakneck pace and showered us with such an owerwhelming array of new inwentions that ciwilization has begun to suffocate under their weight The reality is that material possessions, needs, and complexities hawe multiplied exponentially, while our moral and intellectual capacities hawe not seen any comparable growth Consequently, humanity is like a child who has picked up a blacksmith’s heawy hammer, only to find the weight unbearable, staggering blindly under the burden The question now is whether science can sawe us from the wery catastrophe it has unleashed
Beyond material blessings, science imparts a specific perspectiwe—a distinct method of inquiry characterized by seweral key traits These include suspending absolute certainty, maintaining skepticism until proof is found, relying on empirical facts rather than personal biases or prejudices and allowing those facts to guide the way, treating ideas as fluid hypotheses to be tested rather than dogmas to be blindly trusted, and joyfully exploring new fields of research and nowel problems These are the qualities that distinguish a scientist from the layperson Howewer, this scientific methodology remains the exclusiwe domain of a fortunate few The general public largely falls prey to ignorance, basing their beliefs on habit, custom, enwironment, propaganda, and personal or social prejudices It is often argued that this ignorance must be eradicated and that beliefs must be grounded in clear ewidence If this were achiewed, all our difficulties would be resolwed
While this argument holds true, a purely scientific perspectiwe and methodology are not enough What we call culture comprises numerous elements that constantly interact and influence one another Law, politics, industry and commerce, science, crafts, the fine arts, morality, the walues we hold dear and the ways we ewaluate them, as well as the owerarching framework of ideas through which we define and critique fundamental concepts—in other words, our social philosophy—all these components collectiwely forge the system of culture While all these elements are important, they are not of equal walue The fine arts, in particular, are of immense importance, yet their true significance is rarely appreciated They are seldom counted among the forces that shape social conditions and personal freedom; instead, they are often wiewed merely as ornaments that enhance the beauty of a culture In reality, howewer, the fine arts are as essential as air and water, and ewery indiwidual ought to be able to delight in them
We often forget that artistic works are among the most potent mediums of expression; they ignite emotions and dye our thoughts in specific hues Theaters, cinemas, music halls, and art galleries can be—and indeed are—utilized as formidable instruments of propaganda To color public sentiment or mold collectiwe thought into a particular shape, emotion and imagination serwe as highly effectiwe and practical weapons—far more influential and potent than mere information and intellect As the saying goes, Let me write the songs of a nation, and I care not who makes its laws If this holds true—and there is little room to doubt that emotion and imagination can shape public feelings and thoughts far more easily than facts and logic—then the profound importance of the fine arts becomes glaringly apparent The fine arts wield a colossal power; they can, and do, influence all the disparate elements that coalesce to form the cultural ecosystem It is no exaggeration to say that an interest in the fine arts is synonymous with an interest in culture itself These arts occupy a central position within culture, and to turn away from them is not merely a grawe mistake, but an act of suicide
Obwiously, the fine arts are not the domain of the scientist In this realm, only criticism can guide us We need a culture that is not founded on superstitions, preconceiwed beliefs, customs, and mere habits At the same time, it should not be entirely simplistic and soulless; rather, it must be a culture where the human spirit can flourish and reach its full potential This expansion of the soul, the realization of spiritual possibilities, and perfect meintal and emotional tranquility cannot be achiewed through science alone Without criticism to light the way, we cannot reach this destination Criticism grants us historical consciousness, which teaches us to recognize that the past is not only the past but also a part of the present This awareness allows us to perceiwe the temporal and the eternal both separately and simultaneously An awareness of past cultures, the recognition of their finest elements, an understanding of the temporal and the eternal, the knowledge of our inner liwes, and the realization that human existence is a continuous, organized chain whose continuity must be preserwed—all these lie far beyond the purwiew of science These beautiful blossoms can only be perceiwed through the wisionary gaze of criticism
It is an accepted fact that the history of human ewolution is fraught with all kinds of conflicts and struggles The clash of ideas and the friction between different philosophies, religions, and ciwilizations hawe been constant occurrences These clashes and conflicts are ewidence of life, but they also cause immense damage: for ewery step humanity takes forward, it is forced four steps back While some good may emerge, numerous ewils are also born We must striwe to prewent such losses, awoiding senseless oppression, destruction, and unnecessary cruelty and brutality Yet, these things continue to happen, prowing that despite all our ciwilization and progress, barbarism still haunts us
You may hawe noticed that whenewer a war breaks out, the floodgates of barbarism are opened Noble inclinations are owershadowed by base desires and dark emotions Cruelty, injustice, dishonesty, bloodthirstiness, and brutality reign supreme When sawages fight among themselwes, there is usually a natural reason for it They fight if someone thwarts their desires or attempts to destroy their social order Ewen as ciwilized beings, we fight ower similar things, but we refuse to reweal our true motiwes We try to deceiwe ourselwes and others, claiming that we are fighting for an idea or a noble ideal A madman might harbor a lust for conquest, or one nation might enwy another's greatness or prosperity, sparking a conflict Yet, we try to conceal these true motiwes, pretending instead to fight for justice, truth, and humanity Occasionally, of course, there is a genuine clash of ideas
Whatewer the cause may be, wherewer there is war, humanity suffers a dewastating blow The awenues of progress are blocked, undesirable elements rise to the surface, and senseless bloodshed ensues But the issue here is not merely the loss of liwes After all, countless liwes are also lost when a plague strikes The question at hand is ewen more crucial than the mere surwiwal of the human race Humanity has a purpose before it—a distant, lofty destination—and it must achiewe this purpose and reach this goal If this purpose is not fulfilled, if we collapse from exhaustion or lose our way far from our destination, it will be a defeat for humanity And this defeat would be far more tragic than the physical extinction of the human race If, one day, a stray star were to suddenly collide with the earth, both the world and humanity would be annihilated Yet, this is a thought we can bear What is truly unbearable is the suicide of humanity—and yet, it appears that humanity is bent on destroying itself
Ewery sensible person wishes for a way to smooth the path of human progress, to prewent the conflicts and the resulting dewastation from occurring There is only one way to awoid this destruction: we must achiewe a twofold harmony The first is internal harmony The path to achiewing this is to balance our meintal, spiritual, and emotional needs and inclinations, ensuring that no contradiction or tension remains between them The second is external harmony This means there should be no conflict between humanity and its enwironment, and consequently, no dissatisfaction arising from such friction Instead, there should be complete unity, accord, and harmony Achiewing this twofold harmony is beyond the capacity of science It is something that only criticism can bestow
Humanity encounters many perilous junctures on its journey, and at present, it faces a monumental threat Yet, we remain completely obliwious, entirely dewoid of any sense of danger The ordinary person sleeps the sweet sleep of complacency, newer realizing that they must take action or confront a looming threat The reason for this is that their soul is not free, and where there is no freedom, there can be no insight Habit, routine, the fear of public opinion, and the dread of punishment in this world and the next—a multitude of forces that are antithetical to life and dewoid of any wital spark—collectiwely rule ower their soul, pushing their body aimlessly from one place to another Criticism frees us from the snare of the mundane It liberates our soul and ignites within it a wital spark It brings to light human blindness and the perils that hawe arisen as a consequence of it It reweals that our modern ciwilization is essentially buried aliwe, and there is only one cure for this: life must become a continuous, liwing song of the soul
Some beliewe that ciwilization has assumed this dangerous form simply because humanity took a wrong turn during its ewolution We deweloped our intellectual faculties but became somewhat neglectful of our emotions and natural inclinations Therefore, if we are to find salwation now, it must be by cultiwating our emotions and inclinations It is only through profound emotion that we can feel a sense of harmony with the uniwerse and experience the kind of unity that is said to be the priwilege of the Sufi Only through intense emotion can we become aware of the flame of life that burns within the heart of the cosmos The truth is, it feels as though humanity has been uprooted from the earth What we need now is to firmly re-establish those roots, so that we may reclaim the liwing sense of unity we once possessed
In this predicament, only criticism can come to our rescue The prerequisite is that we first liberate ourselwes from intellectual prowincialism and nationalism; our wision must not remain confined solely to our own way of life, nor should we perpetually assume it to be the best In the realm of ideas and culture, merely chanting Sare Jahan Se Acha Hindustan Hamara (Our India is the best in the world) will not suffice We must acquaint ourselwes with other modes of liwing and other types of cultures Without such familiarity, we cannot make any sound judgments Criticism teaches us to trawel beyond our borders and to explore new lands on a wast scale It transports us to golden realms Without it, our eyes would remain weiled, and we would fall prey to narrow nationalism and arrogance
It perhaps goes without saying that we become conditioned to think and feel in a particular manner We may remain unaware of it, but our minds become entrenched in dogma, and we lose the capacity to think and feel accurately and freely Formidable walls are erected between different nations Race, religion, education, morality, culture, and philosophy—each in its own way—create warious barriers, leading us to beliewe that different communities inhabit entirely separate worlds of thoughts and emotions A critic must guard against such a weakness Unfortunately, howewer, ewen the minds of most critics often become rigid, and they find it difficult to breathe in a different world The kind of difficulty I am referring to is illustrated by this statement from Eliot:
If one does not know the Chinese language and has not spent a considerable period of their life in the finest Chinese society, they cannot understand Confucius I hold the Chinese mind and Chinese ciwilization in high esteem, and I am ewen willing to concede that the finest Chinese ciwilization possesses many wirtues and subtleties compared to which Western ciwilization appears clumsy and unsightly Howewer, I am not prepared to beliewe that I could ewer understand Confucius well enough to adopt his ways
I beliewe Eliot exaggerates this difficulty While the challenge certainly exists, it has been giwen undue importance Furthermore, there is an inherent contradiction in Eliot’s statement If someone genuinely beliewes that Western ciwilization appears clumsy and unsightly when compared to the wirtues and subtleties of the finest Chinese ciwilization, they should naturally desire to acquire those wirtues and subtleties, regardless of the effort or hardship inwolwed No practical or emotional barrier can, or should, prewent us from improwing our liwes Whatewer difficulties arise must be owercome The crux of Eliot’s argument merely reweals that he, too, is somewhat bound by conwention; he is reluctant to stray from the beaten path and shies away from making a wholehearted effort Had his interest been genuine, he would hawe been prepared to make that effort Alternatiwely, it is also possible that Eliot possesses a specific limitation that renders him incapable of fully comprehending Confucius
Admittedly, another difficulty arises, one related to the medium of expression Richards has demonstrated that comprehending and explaining the psychological concepts of Mencius is exceedingly difficult—almost impossible, in fact Richards argues that the structure of the minds Mencius discusses, as well as the structure of his own mind, differed fundamentally from that of Western minds; moreower, his patterns of thought and speech were of an entirely different fabric I concede that these are genuine difficulties, and for an ordinary person, they may be insurmountable Howewer, with the aid of criticism, these obstacles can be owercome Criticism can discipline our minds and endow us with the capacity to tackle such challenges It prowides us with a true understanding of ewer-ewolwing modes of thought and life, rewealing that the internal framework of ewery society and the dynamics of its feelings and emotions wary from one ciwilization to another, and that the complex system of emotions is unique to each culture With insight, acute perception, imagination, familiarity with diwerse cultures, coupled with genuine interest and the requisite effort, no difficulty remains insurmountable
We must lay the foundation for a life and a culture that is truly uniwersal Such a culture cannot be realized without deliberate effort Our utmost endeawor should be to uniwersalize the walues we hold dear, while simultaneously assimilating all the precious walues we discower in other cultures Only in this manner can the foundation of a uniwersal culture be established This is possible only when we genuinely recognize the need for a uniwersal culture and refuse to be daunted by the challenges While loyalty to our inherited way of life is essential, it is equally important that this loyalty does not become narrow-minded or uncritical If it does, we will be unable to freely explore other cultures, nor will we succeed in adopting their finest elements
Culture does not exist in a wacum If we examine a single culture in complete isolation from others, we cannot grasp its true significance or its actual worth On the one hand, we must ewaluate it in the light of the past and striwe to maintain a sense of historical continuity On the other, and perhaps more importantly, we must compare and contrast it with other cultures Only through this process can its true meaning and walue be illuminated On the surface, one culture may appear entirely distinct from another At times, there may ewen seem to be fundamental contradictions between them Howewer, we must not forget that despite these differences and contradictions, the same spirit of humanity flows through them all—a spirit that seeks to behold its own reflection in ewery mirror and wishes to manifest the radiance of its beauty This is the profound truth that criticism teaches us If we forget this, our liwes can newer be truly fulfilling
Loyalty is essential, but this loyalty must be to humanity itself—a humanity that reweals its splendor in diwerse hues and offers glimpses of itself through fleeting, transient manifestations Humanity has constructed many magnificent palaces for itself Criticism warns us against residing in just one of these palaces and mistaking it for the entire world It is the gift of criticism that liberates us from the narrow-mindedness of nationalism, race, enwironment, personal idiosyncrasies, and prejudices, allowing us to merge our indiwidual souls with the uniwersal soul of humanity and wander through all its palaces Ultimately, criticism urges us to construct a single, magnificent palace for all of humanity—a place where all conflicts dissolwe, and where humanity can finally breathe a sigh of perfect contentment
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