By Monica Isaac
“It is the final triumph of a system of domination when the dominated start singing its virtues.”
Kenyan writer Ngugi wa Thiong’o wrote this as part of a collection of essays in his 1986 book, Decolonizing the Mind. He communicates that language and culture and our relationship to it, define who we are. More specifically, he emphasizes the relationship of language to a colonized and imperialist society and how the process of decolonization is imperative to understanding self. He writes, of course, from his experience as a Kenyan man and how colonization has shaped the minds of Africans today. But the book also demonstrates to me the psychological and political implications of colonization across the globe, even far after its initial removal from land and nation.
I initially read this book experiencing it as an observer of colonization. Western conditioning is tricky in this way because memory, as Thiong’o references many times, has been carefully and intentionally rewritten to reify a particular vision of the world. This vision often treats the fact of colonization as a singular moment in history that took place somewhere specific in the world with a now-expired timestamp. As if now Westerners exist in a post-colonial democratic society, and as if our oppressive past should be forgotten.
But I remember: Our colonial past is shouting at the present. It has not gone anywhere. I know that decolonizing the mind is not a singular act. We are talking decades of indoctrination in the West, in these places that remain unaccountable to their history. It shapes many questions. Do we know ourselves only through the lens of colonization? Through the colonizer? Are we brave enough in the West to not be dominated by a narrative written to destroy us and the world?
I’m not writing to talk about how colonialism has evolved (though neocolonialism has become sophisticated and “modernized” itself through technology and AI). If anything, seeing the barbaric nature of settler colonialism play out in the occupied territories in Palestine is a clear reminder that the physical and psychological violence of colonialism hasn’t really changed much over the years. When Palestinians say the Nakba of 1948 is ongoing, this is a literal statement. The dispossession continues. The vicious attacks on homes, land, and resources continue. The illegal arrests and imprisonment continue. And in 2024, nearly 7 months after the Al-Aqsa flood and nearly 40,000 Palestinians killed, it continues. And as much as the world sees this destruction firsthand and online, the colonizers still say this genocide didn’t happen, actively rewriting the narrative for their agenda. To paraphrase Thiong’o, they will erase reality to create a new memory. In White House briefings for example they commonly evade answers, invoke false accusations of anti-semitism, or respond as “not recalling” or “not being aware” when audio and video evidence has been widely circulated. A new memory is then created, creating doubt and a distortion of reality.
The determination of the colonizer, the Zionist entity, to create a new memory is strategic. They steal culture and language as we’ve seen Settlers mock the Arabic language while simultaneously using it to solidify a faulty narrative of identity to Palestine and the Arab world. They uproot and destroy Native land to erase the existence of the natural ecosystem while physically changing the landscape via reforestation with plants shipped from Europe. They destroy birth certificates, documentation, diplomas, literature, cultural landmarks, and institutions. If this all seems diabolical that’s because it is. Settler colonialism acts as a form of psychological warfare. It’s the type of warfare that has been used to convince the West and Palestinians themselves that they aren’t just undeserving of basic human rights but twist the reality of their actual existence. This is why you barely hear Western media even refer by name to Palestine or Palestinians. That language is very intentional. That omission of naming is intentional. When New York Times journalists were advised to not use terms like “genocide, ethnic cleansing, etc.” in a leaked memo, that was/is a strategy of erasure. If we communicate the uncertainty of their legitimate existence, how can they even be erased?
Similarly to Malcolm X and his thoughts on media consciousness, Thiong’o understood that the colonizers will use their language (in his case, non-native languages) as the ultimate form of political and psychological control over the people. Particularly in the West, it has created a blind allegiance to the Zionist entity while simultaneously a calculated programming of dehumanization towards Palestinians and the global south as a whole. In the case of America, media language has been the ultimate tool of domination and for the first time, those manipulative narratives are being questioned by the majority of Americans. A part of the work of decolonization is understanding that the colonized are the authority of their own memory/experiences and reclaiming it means deprogramming the colonizers’ narrative. What is astounding about Palestinians is that while they’ve endured these systematic tactics of erasure and colonialist violence for decades, they demonstrate that the preservation of Palestinian life is non-negotiable. They refuse to be controlled. They are committed to culture, memory, and language in ways that communicate their existence is undeniable as is their future. They’ve chosen to not be defined by the colonizer. They know their land. They can name generations of family members who cultivated that land. They vividly tell stories and share with younger generations. When they brutalize one, 15 stand to carry on their legacy.
While Thiong’o focuses mostly on the implications of language, I always found these essays to allow for a broader understanding of how many aspects of life (including media, culture) fold into a deeper consciousness. And with that, a relationship to self that gives space for decolonization to take shape. Palestinians have shaped this understanding for decades, a lesson the colonized West could learn from. The preservation of history, language, and culture is not necessarily so the future can remember the colonized. Yes, history should always inform and educate as we build towards a better world. But more importantly, it’s for the colonized to know themselves.
