英语是殖民主义的残渣余孽、还是通向经济腾飞的护照？今天，印度人该不该学英语？最近，印度大学生正在就此展开激烈辩论。BBC记者Peter Curran受邀出任评委。BBC中文网刊登了这位记者的报道，题目是：印度人该不该学英语？全文转载如下（英语原文附后）：

 

礼堂侧门一打开，一只猕猴信步走了出来。

 

义务教育普及到这个程度（连猴子都上学了）？还没有吧。这是声誉很高的印度理工学院。校园位于市中心，但是，鹿、蛇、猴子都可以在广大的校园内随心所欲地游逛。低矮的水泥建筑间是高大的榕树，渐渐地，大树掩盖了人类试图在这片肥沃的土地上扎根的努力。

 

钦奈机场，看不到拉行李拖车的小卡车，取而代之的是轮子巨大的农用拖拉机。仿佛，人们相信，这些会飞的机器不过是昙花一现，有朝一日，人类还是需要返回男耕女织。

 

和我一道出任评委的还有印度理工大学的校长阿纳斯教授。他身材颀长，一袭绿色的棉衫，风度翩翩。他在这所大学任教已经将近40年了。他送给我一本小册子，其中列举着大学内生长、生活的各种动植物。

 

一辆坐满学生的汽车按着喇叭从我们身边驶过。教授说，“我们这儿有4500名学生，还有许多其他动物。这可是一个充满了生态活力的地方。”

泰米尔纳德邦是一个很保守的地区。当地报纸铺天盖地地报道，前《海滩救护队》的性感女星帕米拉·安德森即将进驻印度版真人秀《老大哥》，但地方电视台却宣布，把《老大哥》的播出时间挪到晚上11点之后。

 

我们一同走进大礼堂，参加辩论的学生正在整理思路。素尼帕在加尔各答读书，喜欢数学。她说，她梦想有朝一日能够在印度统计研究所找到工作。

 

我问她，这场辩论和普通的学校辩论有什么区别。她回答说，“让人震惊。在学校的时候，我们通常都是站起来发言，然后坐下听别人发言。说是辩论，其实更有点像朗诵练习。而这场辩论，我们真的要争辩，论证自己的观点，并且允许其他同龄人、而不是老师，改变我们的观点。”

 

当天辩论的主题是“印度夸大了教英语的重要性”。这是一个很敏感、很能煽动人心的话题。

 

印度有22种宪法承认的语言。辩论的学生有些把英语描绘成殖民主义的残渣余孽----“仍在冒烟的狗尾巴”；有些则说，信息业和服务业的成功证明，英语是通向经济腾飞的护照。

 

但是，辩论中也有一些我没有想到的角度。一个小组的学生强调了英语对解放达利人的促进作用。他们说，这些印度最下等的人、“不可触摸”的贱民可以使用英语，翻越社会等级的障碍。

 

学生们还特别提到了乡村教师面临的亟待提高英语教学水平的压力。

 

1965年政府强制推广印度语作为官方语言带来灾难性后果，被学生当作英语可以推动国家统一的证据。

 

有学生抱怨，医生上学、培训都是用英语，他们会选择出国或者到大城市去工作，而不是到农村去用方言挣扎着行医，因此，一些地区的人享受不到良好的医疗保健。

 

中午辩论暂停，我们跑出礼堂，穿过暴雨，登上小面包车去吃午餐。

 

面包车内，从上到下到处贴满了剖光的木板条，雕刻着漩涡型的花纹，安着黄铜把手。这么说吧，把这个小面包里外调个个儿，看起来就更像一个大棺材了。

 

也许，这也隐喻着钦奈公路的危险？当我看到一家四口坐在一辆小摩托车上、只有父亲一人带着头盔，我的恐惧减轻了不少。

 

女人头上蒙着头巾，带着飞行员一样的眼镜，开着轻骑在车水马龙中穿梭。

 

就是在这样繁忙的公路上，英语也没有被当作恐吓人的工具。在英国，公路两旁经常可以看到“超速致命”（Speed Kills）的警示牌，但是在钦奈，警示牌上写的是，“超速过瘾、但却致命”(Speed Thrills but Kills)。

 

我们的司机安瓦尔左手闲着没事干，拿起好像网球拍的电子装置打苍蝇、蚊子。面包车狂奔着追赶前面的车龙，学生们且说且笑，我却把目光从路上转移开，盯着车座上的花纹图案，转移注意力。

 

下午继续辩论。我遇到斯林瓦斯先生。他从海德拉巴的一家军事院校带来了四名男生。辩论结束后，他的学生和其他学校的学生仍在热烈地交谈着。斯林瓦斯话虽不多，但却仔细地观察着。

 

很小的时候，斯林瓦斯的父亲就去世了，母亲是文盲。所以，能到传教士开办的圣玛丽学校去上学、到学校的图书馆去借书，改变斯林瓦斯的一生。

 

他微笑着说，他恨不得一天就学会英语、立马儿就能读懂怀抱中让人着迷的科普书。他姐姐在家里点着白蜡烛给他读英文小说，想通过简·奥斯丁让他能够尽快接近爱因斯坦。

 

作为一个成绩显赫的理科老师，他对有关英语作用的辩论是怎么看的呢？

 

斯林瓦斯向前探了探身，避开身旁学生的注意力，说道，“我热爱英语。用英语，其实什么也不会失去。因为，我们可能嘴上说英语，但是，想问题的时候，心里还是用母语”。

 

India debates whether to learn English

By Peter Curran
BBC News, Chennai (Madras)

 

Schools across India have been debating the rights and wrongs of Indians learning English. The debates themselves were conducted in English, as is much of this multilingual country's national life.

 

Sitting there at the side door of the lecture theatre is a rhesus monkey.

 

Education for all? Well, not quite. This is the prestigious Indian Institute of Technology Madras - a university in the midst of a city yet with deer, snakes and monkeys moving freely around the sprawling campus.

 

Huge banyan trees rise up between low concrete buildings - slowly overwhelming man's puny attempt to impose himself on this fecund landscape.

 

At Chennai airport, rather than use trucks to pull luggage trailers around they deploy big-wheeled farm tractors - as if they believe tractors will always be needed for the perpetual business of working the land, if this air travel lark turns out to be just a passing fad.

 

One of my fellow judges is the university's director, Professor Anath - a tall symphony of green cotton and graceful moves.

 

He gives me a small book detailing the flora and fauna of the college he has taught at for nearly 40 years.

 

As a student-filled car passes us, horn blaring, he confides: "We have 4,500 students and many other creatures here. It's a place of ecological dynamism."

 

We walk into the main lecture hall as the young debaters marshal their thoughts.

Sunipa Dev goes to school in Calcutta and loves maths. She says she dreams of making it through to the Indian Statistical Institute.

 

I ask her about the difference between this and normal school debating.

 

"This is a shock. We usually stand up, make our speech and sit down. The debates are a bit like elocution exercises.

 

"Here we get to argue and test our ideas and have our minds changed by people our own age - not teachers."

 

Today's motion - "The importance of learning English in India is overstated" - is ripe for nuanced debate.

 

There are 22 constitutionally recognised languages in India and the debaters portray English as either the smouldering dog-end of colonialism or the passport to economic growth, as evidenced by the IT and service industry explosion.

 

But there are unexpected angles.

 

One team highlights the need for English to liberate Dalits - the Indian underclasses, formerly "untouchables" who can use English to vault over the social barriers of the officially banned caste system.

 

The pressure on rural teachers not equipped to teach English to a sufficient standard is highlighted.

 

The disastrous attempt to enforce Hindi as the national language of India in 1965 is cited as a reason why English could be the language of Indian unity.

 

Some complained that as doctors were trained in English, they would either go abroad or into cities rather than struggle with local languages, thus denying some areas decent medical care.

 

After lively interventions from the floor we run from the hall through a thunderstorm to minivans and on to lunch.

 

Every inch of the interior of our minibus is lined with highly varnished pale wood panels, carved scrolls and brass handles - if you turned this van inside out, it would resemble a giant coffin.

Perhaps a witty acknowledgement of the perils of travelling on the roads of Chennai.

 

Even here amid the pinballing cars, trucks and bikes, English is not used as a blunt instrument.

Whereas in the UK the phrase "Speed Kills" is a familiar sight on road signs, in Chennai official signs read "Speed Thrills, But Kills". Rhyme and reason.

 

Back for the afternoon session I meet Mr Srinvas, a teacher who has brought four boys from The Army School Ramakrishna Puram in Hyderabad.

 

He is quiet and watchful as his excited pupils ricochet ideas around the room after their debate.

Mr Srinvas' father died when he was a toddler and his mother was illiterate, so his induction into a mission school - and particularly joining its library - was life-changing.

 

He says with a smile that he could not learn to read English quickly enough to understand the big science books that he cradled in wonder, but his older sister tried to bring him closer to Einstein via the Jane Austen novels she read to him at home by tallow light.

 

As a successful science teacher, what does he feel about the English language debate? He leans forwards, conscious of young ears nearby and says:

 

"I love the English language and you know, we don't actually lose anything of ourselves by using it, because although we might speak in English, we think in our native tongues."