ll societies and civilisations go through phases in their history where they feel threatened by those perceived as enemies. These threats can be real or imaginary. The imaginary threats inhibit free action. In the face of a threat, societies adopt one of two strategies: they either to confront the challenge head-on or seek refuge in a cocoon. The first strategy is characteristic of a society infused with courage and confidence; the second is typical of a fearful mindset. China built the Great Wall two millennia ago to protect itself from nomadic incursions from the north.

Japan is another case study. In 1603, the country witnessed the inception of a new period called Edo. This was the time when Samurai warlords took the reins of power into their own hands. One of the salient features of the Edo period was Japan’s isolationist policy, aimed at protecting the country from the outside world. For this reason, it is often called the period of isolation. This policy prohibited everybody from leaving or entering the country. Out of this isolationist stance, a strictly hierarchical social system emerged, effectively precluding any chances of social mobility and transformation.

The Edo period (1603-1868) coincided with a historical phase in Western societies where they were entering the modern period in the wake of the Renaissance of arts, culture and knowledge in Europe. The openness of the West enabled its societies to embark on the exploration of the universe as well as the world of knowledge. This outward-looking attitude helped the West not only expand its geographical boundaries but also to push the boundaries of knowledge by challenging old certainties and premises while Japan remained frozen in time and space.

In a state of oblivion due to isolation, the Japanese did not realise that the world had made giant leaps in every sphere of life. Two hundred and fifty years later it dawned upon the Japanese that their society and mindset had calcified in this prison of isolation. In 1868, realising the ignorance within and the importance of acquainting Japanese society with modern knowledge, ideas, institutions and skills, Emperor Meiji Tenn introduced reforms in the rigid order of society and state. This laid the foundation for the modernisation of Japan as it adopted a constitution, instituted universal education, built railroads, introduced the telegraph and modernised the armed forces.

Around the same time, in 1853, the British introduced the first passenger train in India. This filled Indians with the fear that the British might ‘tow their land away’ to England using the train. Unlike Indian rulers, the emperor of Japan sent thousands of students to Europe and the US to illuminate Japanese society with the light of knowledge. Although the reforms elicited a strong backlash from conservative sections of society and government, the reformists ultimately prevailed over the traditionalists. Due to the sweeping changes in the state, this period is known as the Meiji Revolution. After the clash between tradition and modernity, Japan emerged as a power to be reckoned with. It is no wonder that Japan became a military and industrial superpower within thirty years of the Meiji reforms.

The Japanese society was not the only one to resist something foreign, alien or new. Muslim societies also went through a phase of rejecting the novel and unfamiliar. They entered the modern age while rejecting almost all its hallmarks. The interface with modernity had varied consequences across diverse Muslim societies. However, their response to some of the most important technologies was quite similar; the printing press stands out as a prime example.

Just before the advent of modernity, the West experienced a knowledge revolution with the invention of the printing press by Johannes Gutenberg in 1454 in Germany. Among Muslim societies and empires, the Ottoman Empire was ahead of others in accepting the printing press, as Sultan Ahmed III allowed its establishment in 1727. Unfortunately, the presses were closed after 15 years due to the vehement opposition of some of the ulema. It took more than two centuries for Muslims to fully embrace the printing press after its invention. As a result, Muslim societies missed the opportunity to harness the enormous wealth of knowledge unlocked by the Gutenberg revolution. This led to the creation of a vast knowledge gap between Muslims and the West, the reverberations of which can still be felt in the domain of knowledge and various spheres of life.

Some researchers attribute the rejection of the printing press to the differences between Roman and Arabic alphabets, as Arabic was not deemed print-friendly. However, this view is contradicted by historical evidence. The first Quran in Arabic was printed by a Venetian printer, Alessandro Paganini, in 1537/38 in Italy. Additionally, Jews introduced printing presses in Istanbul; these were the Jews expelled from Spain in 1493 during the Spanish Reconquista. Interestingly, in the Ottoman Empire, only non-Muslims were allowed to print books. The publication of Islamic books was strictly prohibited. Similarly, Christians in Syria and the Levant were printing their books in the Arabic language. However, most Muslims clung to traditional scribes, calligraphers, oral stories and orators for the dissemination of knowledge.

The same rejectionist attitude led the ulema and the Muslim public in India to reject other signs of modernity, such as modern weapons, clocks, railways, electric lights, loudspeakers, television, VCRs, dish antennas and telephones. The consequences of banning these modern inventions and tools of modernity contributed to keeping Muslim societies backwards in terms of knowledge and technology. Until relatively recently, this rejectionist mindset was evident in the streets of Pakistan, where groups of people would burn television sets and DVDs in public, fearing that these spread obscenity. More recently, with the advent of information technology, no one is burning their mobile phones. Instead, these devices have become more precious to them than anything else in their lives.

Today we see signs of a similarly isolationist mentality in Pakistan. We live in an age where virtual spaces and transactions have overtaken physical spaces and n-person human interactions. There is no need any longer to go to the bazaar and sift through store shelves to find an item one like and make the payment in hard currency. Stores, salesmen, shelves, goods, suppliers, banks and delivery companies are now condensed into a mobile phone connected to Wi-Fi internet.

When television was invented, it was seen by some as a magical box because it brought events and people from far-off places into our rooms. Some of our ulema called it a tool of the Satan, essentially because its functioning was incomprehensible within their epistemic framework. Anything the ulema did not understand tended to be declared a satanic product. There were warnings that the Satan spoke through the telephone and loudspeakers. Ironically, a little later, the ulema embraced the loudspeakers.

TVs, VCRs, telephones and dish antennae were products typical of the iron civilisation, born of the industrial and technological revolution. In that civilisation, every piece of equipment took the form of hardware, requiring physical space for its presence. Today we live in the age of software and soft power. Our knowledge, information, memories and crucial aspects of life are stored invisibly in gadgets and appliances. Unlike in modern times, Muslim societies have not only embraced the information revolution but are fully participating in its products and mediums. This is why we don’t see much vehement opposition to YouTube and other social media platforms either from clergy or the common man. We now see many ulema flocking to Facebook, Instagram, YouTube and other social media platforms. These are the spaces where muftis, maulvis, Rehannas, Shakiras, Aishwaryas, Mia Khalifas and other kinds of religious and cultural influencers jostle for influence. The space fuses opposite poles and views in a single medium, allowing them to take root in the same soil.

Owing to its innovative and egalitarian nature, the contemporary information age is opening up hitherto suppressed voices and hidden spaces, enabling ordinary people to express their sentiments and ideas that might otherwise have gone unheard. By egalitarian, I mean having equal opportunity to participate in a dialogue previously restricted in traditional and modern mediums. For example, professional platforms and bodies require certain prerequisites to become members. Reading was once an elite act, as it required the ability to read and write. Without this ability, one could not be part of the readership circle. Similarly, being part of the intelligentsia was an elite vocation despite economic poverty.

Social platforms like the TikTok app remove barriers to participation by employing video, a medium more primordial than writing. Hence, we can claim that with the dominance of social media, we are witnessing an explosion of information and the implosion of the rigid orders of modern society and state, though this shift has its own consequences for a society.

However, the state appears to be taking measures that will curtail access to information and knowledge. The government recently decided to install an internet firewall to regulate and monitor online content deemed threatening to the state and society. This is reminiscent of the proponents of the ban on the printing press, who opposed it because the printing of the Bible led to the schism of Christianity in the form of the Protestant movement in Europe. Although the government denies using the firewall for censorship, it has resulted in internet disruptions across the country. There have been reports of disruptions to business operations, especially those working online at national and global levels.

In addition to the financial losses, the intellectual and social costs of shutting the society off from the means of communication in the information age and the global network society are too high. In depriving the new generation of access to information and interaction with the global economy and society, the state is pushing the society into a limbo reminiscent of the Edo period in Japan. If the ongoing control and censorship in Pakistan become normalised, we will enter a century of slumber and solitude imposed by the patriarchs of the state. Dishonest demagogues, quacks and charlatans will rule the day. After a hundred years of slumber, we will awaken to the reality of a world shaped by demagogues, leaving us with minds that are incompatible with the modern world. The world will be alien to our thoughts and ideas. We will be left wandering like zombies in this brave new world.

Instead of facilitating access to information, the government is spending money to curtail it. This situation is similar to the dystopian picture of George Orwell’s 1984, where four ministries act in opposition to their stated purposes. The Ministry of Truth spreads lies, the Ministry of Plenty creates scarcity, the Ministry of Peace wages wars and the Ministry of Love commits torture.

In Orwell’s novel, the totalitarian state of Oceania is under the surveillance of the ubiquitous figure of Big Brother, who controls thought by watching every movement and act of the citizens. The ruling class of Oceania attempts to control thought to perpetuate the system. This is achieved by inverting the meanings of some straightforward words.

In 1984, the building housing the Ministry of Truth displayed three slogans of the Party on its white facade: War is Peace; Freedom is Slavery; and Ignorance is Strength.

Healthy societies and states invest in their people so that they can realise their potential and achieve self-actualisation. Raising firewalls in this day and age is going against the grain.

A generation reared on dark thoughts is likely to become a ghost, not an emissary of light. Creating barriers to knowledge and information is akin to creating Frankensteins.

The writer is a social scientist interested in the history of ideas. 

Email: azizalidad@gmail.com