The Constitution and the
Quran – LANGUAGE
A
language is much more than a means of communication. It carries the history,
wisdom, values and accumulated experiences of a people. Through language, we
inherit not only words but also ways of understanding the world.
When a
language disappears, we risk losing something far greater than its vocabulary.
We may lose centuries of human knowledge and cultural memory.
Modern
scholarship helps us appreciate why. Linguistics, semantics, anthropology and
cognitive science have demonstrated how closely language is connected to human
thinking, culture and civilisation.
One
particularly interesting field is linguistic relativity, associated with
Edward Sapir and Benjamin Lee Whorf, and explored through modern experimental
research by scholars such as Lera Boroditsky. The central idea is that the
language we use can influence how we pay attention to, categorise and remember
certain aspects of our experiences. Language does not determine what we can
think, but it can shape some of our habits of thinking.
Consider
something as universal as time.
In
English, we often speak of looking forward to the future and looking back
at the past. Mandarin also uses vertical expressions for time, such as shàng
ge yuè (last month) and xià ge yuè (next month), drawing on words
associated with above and below.
In her
book Malay Perception of Time, Malaysian linguist Asmah Haji Omar
examines how the Malay language expresses and organises our understanding of
time. One fascinating traditional Malay expression is setanak nasi,
referring to the time taken to cook a pot of rice.
Imagine
asking someone how far away a village is and receiving the answer, “Lebih
kurang setanak nasi.”
Rather
than describing the distance in kilometres or the journey in minutes, the
answer uses a familiar daily activity as its measure. Within those few words
lies an entire cultural experience: cooking rice, the rhythm of daily life,
shared knowledge and an understanding of time through familiar activities.
These
examples do not mean that Malays, Chinese and English speakers experience time
in completely different ways. Rather, they show how languages can preserve
different ways of describing and organising human experience.
The
Japanese scholar Toshihiko Izutsu took this understanding further through
semantic analysis. In his studies of Quranic vocabulary, he demonstrated how
the relationships between words and concepts can reveal an ethical and
religious worldview.
Centuries
earlier, Muslim scholars such as Al-Jurjani had explored how meaning emerges
through relationships between words, while Ibn Khaldun examined how language
develops within societies and civilisations.
Together,
these studies remind us that language is a living inheritance. It preserves
knowledge, relationships, values and the encounters between civilisations.
What does
the Quran say?
What
fascinates me is that the Quran specifically draws our attention to the
diversity of human languages.
In Surah
Ar-Rum, verse 22, Allah says:
“And of
His signs is the creation of the heavens and the earth and the diversity of
your languages and your colours. Indeed in that are signs for those of
knowledge.”
Notice
that linguistic diversity is described as one of God's signs. And notice
something else. The verse ends by referring to those of knowledge.
To me,
this is significant. The Quran is not merely acknowledging that human beings
speak different languages. It is inviting us to pay attention, to learn and to
reflect upon that diversity.
Classical
Quranic commentators, including Al-Tabari, Al-Qurtubi and Ibn Kathir, discussed
differences in human languages as manifestations of God's creative power and
wisdom.
The Quran
makes another important point in Surah Al-Hujurat, verse 13, where humanity is
described as having been made into peoples and tribes so that we may know one
another. The Arabic expression lita'arafu carries the idea of mutual
acquaintance and understanding.
What
better way to know another community than to appreciate its language, its
history, its values and the wisdom accumulated through generations?
In Surah
Ibrahim, verse 4, the Quran also tells us that messengers were sent in the
language of their people so that their messages could be made clear. Language,
therefore, is not merely about speaking. It is about understanding.
I do not
suggest that the Quran is presenting a modern scientific theory of linguistics.
Rather, modern scholarship helps me appreciate more deeply why the Quran draws
attention to language as one of God's signs.
What does
our Federal Constitution say?
This
brings me to something about Malaysia that I find particularly meaningful.
Our
Federal Constitution, through Article 152, establishes Bahasa Melayu as our
national language. I believe this is important. Every nation needs a common
language that brings its people together, facilitates communication and
strengthens a shared national identity.
But our
Constitution does something else that deserves equal attention.
Article
152(1)(a) protects the use, teaching and learning of other languages, subject
to the constitutional exception concerning official purposes. Article 152(1)(b)
also preserves the right of the Federal and State Governments to support the
use and study of the languages of other communities.
Think
about what this means.
Our
constitutional social contract recognises the importance of a common national
language while providing space for the languages of our diverse communities to
continue living and developing.
Bahasa
Melayu need not flourish at the expense of Mandarin, Tamil, Iban, Kadazandusun,
Bidayuh or the many other languages and dialects that form part of our
Malaysian inheritance. We can strengthen our national language and preserve our
linguistic diversity at the same time.
Indeed, I
believe we should. The Constitution provides the framework. It is for us, as
Malaysians, to give that framework life.
Beyond
political debates, towards Quranic practice
For
years, politicians and commentators have debated whether Malaysia is an Islamic
state, whether we should become one, or whether our Federal Constitution is
Islamic.
I believe
there is a more constructive question we should be asking.
How can
we study our existing Constitution and identify the opportunities it provides
for us to put Quranic teachings into practice?
Rather
than spending so much energy debating labels, should we not pay greater
attention to our deeds, our conduct and the kind of society we are building?
Article
152 offers one practical example. By respecting our national language while
protecting and supporting the languages of other communities, we can give
meaningful expression to the Quran's invitation to appreciate linguistic
diversity and know one another.
We do not
have to declare every provision of our Constitution Islamic to recognise where
it provides opportunities to practise Quranic values.
Surely,
that is a more productive approach than turning Islam into an instrument of
political competition. Religion should inspire us to build a better country,
not merely provide arguments for political advantage.
Our
responsibility towards 2057
I feel
fortunate, even gifted, to be Malaysian. I live in a country whose Federal
Constitution recognises our national language while protecting space for
linguistic diversity.
And as a
Muslim, I find something deeply reassuring in this arrangement.
The more
I reflect on Article 152 alongside Ar-Rum 30:22, the more convinced I become
that our Constitution provides an opportunity for me to become a better Muslim.
By being faithful to its provisions, I can also give practical expression to
what the Quran encourages.
But I am
worried. Some of our languages and dialects, particularly those spoken by
smaller indigenous communities in Sabah, Sarawak and Peninsular Malaysia, face
the danger of gradually disappearing.
When a
language disappears, we do not simply lose another way of saying good morning.
We risk losing an entire library of human experience: oral histories,
traditional knowledge, relationships with nature, ethical concepts, stories and
the wisdom of generations. Some of that knowledge may never be recovered.
Good
intentions alone will not prevent this loss. We need to allocate sufficient
budgets, resources, institutional attention and sustained effort to document,
preserve and revitalise our endangered languages and dialects. This should
involve governments, universities, cultural institutions and, most importantly,
the communities whose languages are at risk.
As we
work towards WAWASAN 2057, Malaysia's centenary of independence, let us make
this part of our national responsibility. Let us ensure that our linguistic
inheritance is not lost through neglect or a lack of commitment.
For
Muslims, passing on beneficial knowledge can also be a meaningful expression of
faith. For all Malaysians, it is a gift to generations yet to come. Our Federal
Constitution has provided us with a foundation. The Quran has given me a reason
to appreciate its wisdom even more deeply.
Let us
ensure that when Malaysia celebrates 100 years of independence in 2057, we have
not become a nation richer in material progress but poorer in the languages,
wisdom and memories of our people.
Peace,
Anas Zubedy




