{"id":47097,"date":"2026-10-27T11:56:06","date_gmt":"2026-10-27T07:56:06","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.mauritiustimes.com\/mt\/?p=47097"},"modified":"2026-10-27T11:56:06","modified_gmt":"2026-10-27T07:56:06","slug":"lost-in-words-the-mauritian-reality","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.mauritiustimes.com\/mt\/lost-in-words-the-mauritian-reality\/","title":{"rendered":"Lost in Words: The Mauritian Reality"},"content":{"rendered":"<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><span style=\"color: #ff0000;\"><u>Opinion <\/u><\/span><!--more--><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #0000ff;\"><strong>By Samad Ramoly<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">In Mauritius, language is a two-way mirror. On a daily basis, our archipelago-state uses legal, economic, and social concepts whose official meanings &#8212; often inherited from abroad &#8212; clash head-on with our lived experiences. This gap between theory and practice creates deep confusions that distort public debate, mask power struggles, and perpetuate historical, geopolitical, and cultural misunderstandings.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"11293\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/www.mauritiustimes.com\/mt\/lost-in-words-the-mauritian-reality\/unite-nationale-29-dec\/\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.mauritiustimes.com\/mt\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/Unite-nationale-29-dec.jpg?fit=1200%2C803&amp;ssl=1\" data-orig-size=\"1200,803\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-title=\"Unite nationale 29 dec\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.mauritiustimes.com\/mt\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/Unite-nationale-29-dec.jpg?fit=640%2C428&amp;ssl=1\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-11293\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.mauritiustimes.com\/mt\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/Unite-nationale-29-dec.jpg?resize=640%2C428&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"\" width=\"640\" height=\"428\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.mauritiustimes.com\/mt\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/Unite-nationale-29-dec.jpg?w=1200&amp;ssl=1 1200w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.mauritiustimes.com\/mt\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/Unite-nationale-29-dec.jpg?resize=300%2C200&amp;ssl=1 300w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.mauritiustimes.com\/mt\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/Unite-nationale-29-dec.jpg?resize=768%2C514&amp;ssl=1 768w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.mauritiustimes.com\/mt\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/Unite-nationale-29-dec.jpg?resize=1024%2C685&amp;ssl=1 1024w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\" \/><\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>The Semantic Illusion: The Rule of Law Sacrificed on the Altar of &#8220;Law and Order&#8221;<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">The greatest misunderstanding in our democratic debate lies in the permanent conflation of the \u00c9tat de droit, the Rule of Law, and Law and Order. Our legal system is a unique hybrid model, born out of French civil law and British common law. Yet, in the political and media arenas, these concepts collide in total confusion:<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>* The Rule of Law <\/strong>(British concept): It finds its historical roots in the Magna Carta of 1215, where English barons forced King John to accept that even the sovereign is subject to the law, banning arbitrary imprisonment. It is a shield that enshrines the absolute supremacy of the law, equality before justice for all, and the protection of the individual against arbitrary power.<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>* L&#8217;\u00c9tat de droit <\/strong>(French concept): This is a structural model based on the hierarchy of norms (the pyramid of laws). The State chooses to limit itself by subjecting its entire administration and its leaders to rigorous compliance with the Constitution and written laws.<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>* Law and Order <\/strong>(Security-focused concept): This simply relates to the management of public order, discipline, and police enforcement on the streets.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">The Mauritian trap consists of wrongfully brandishing respect for the rule of law or the \u00c9tat de droit to legitimitse measures that are purely about law and order (such as arbitrary arrests or displays of police force). By confusing the protection of fundamental freedoms with the exercise of repressive force, we invert democratic logic: law no longer serves to limit power, but becomes the instrument of its display.<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Disguised Economic Realities: From the &#8220;private sector (secteur priv\u00e9)&#8221; to &#8220;big busisness&#8221;<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">This distortion of language also spreads into our reading of the economy. Take the expression &#8220;private sector.&#8221; Universally, it encompasses any economic activity not owned by the State. In Mauritius, this term has taken on a considerable historical and emotional weight. In the collective imagination, it does not evoke the local small business or the corner shop, but refers almost exclusively to the large, historical conglomerates originating from the former sugar industry.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">To clean up the debate and purge this term of its obsolete political and communal connotations, it would be appropriate to adopt more accurate expressions.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">Speaking of &#8220;<strong>big business<\/strong>&#8221; would finally allow us to decouple legitimate economic criticism from any ethnic dimension, bringing the subject back to what it truly is: an issue of financial power and market control.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">Conversely, the <em>marchand ambulant<\/em> (hawker\/street vendor) suffers from the opposite confusion. While the dictionary defines it as a mobile vendor moving goods from street to street, Mauritian reality shows us traders permanently set up on specific pavements or relocated into fixed urban structures. Behind this ill-suited label hides, in truth, the social struggle of an informal economy seeking its legitimacy and place in the public space.<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Culture and Education: Embracing &#8220;Morisyen&#8221; on Its Own<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">On the cultural front, Kreol morisyen still suffers from the stigmas of the past. Although it is recognised as the national language shared by the vast majority of the population, two confusions persist. On one hand, an archaic view sometimes reduces it to a mere &#8220;patois&#8221; in comparison to French or English. On the other hand, a persistent linguistic conflation associates the language with ethnic belonging to the Creole community.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">To move past this division and enshrine the purely civic dimension of our national idiom, two proposals are necessary: officially adopting the designation kreol morisyen or, better yet, &#8220;morisyen&#8221; on its own. By detaching the name of the language from any specific ethnic reference, morisyen is consecrated as the language of all Mauritians, unifying the nation under a common and shared linguistic identity.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">Finally, the Mauritian education system has also distorted the meaning of words through the institutionalisation of <em>le\u00e7ons particuli\u00e8res <\/em>(private tuition). What should describe targeted, voluntary, or occasional academic support for a struggling student has become a gigantic parallel industry. Virtually mandatory and paid for by everyone, this system has substituted itself for the official curriculum to the point of reversing roles: core educational content is sometimes pushed to afternoon classes, turning the morning school into little more than a luxury daycare and widening social inequalities.<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>From Colony to Archipelago: The Trap of &#8220;Lil Moris&#8221;<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">Semantic confusion begins with the very way we name our own territory. Mechanically translating l&#8217;\u00eele Maurice into Lil Moris poses a double problem. On one hand, this formulation perpetuates a strictly colonial vision, modelled on the perspective of the former coloniser who only conceived of the country through its main island. On the other hand, it dangerously reduces our status as an archipelago-state, erasing Rodrigues, Agalega, Saint Brandon, and the Chagos Archipelago with the stroke of a pen.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">Yet, not so long ago, popular usage and mainstream media preferred &#8220;Moris&#8221; on its own, and not Lil Moris. Returning to Moris to designate the State and the nation is an essential act of mental decolonisation: it allows us to encompass our entire archipelago-state in its geographical diversity, without excluding any of its island components.<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Naming Things Right to Have an Honest Debate<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">As long as we allow these expressions to float in the vagueness of their approximations, national dialogue will remain biased. Saying Moris instead of Lil Moris, replacing &#8220;private sector&#8221; with &#8220;big buisness&#8221;, or designating our common language as morisyen is not just playing with words: it is an act of public health to depoliticise, de-ethnicise, and decolonise our debates. To build the future of our archipelago-state, it is urgent to give concepts back their proper definitions, because to misname things is to add to the misfortune &#8212; and the confusion &#8212; of our nation.<\/span><\/p>\n<hr \/>\n<p><span style=\"color: #008080;\">Mauritius Times ePaper Friday 23 October 2026<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Opinion<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":24,"featured_media":28654,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[25],"tags":[63279,17154,842,50493,26853,9450,63278,30104,5793,2937,61850,62575,119,36,63280,995,2701,730,1697,968,288,24542],"class_list":["post-47097","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-politics","tag-archipelago-state","tag-big-business","tag-chagos-archipelago","tag-colonial-legacy","tag-economic-power","tag-education-system","tag-fundamental-freedoms","tag-informal-economy","tag-kreol-morisyen","tag-law-and-order","tag-legal-system","tag-linguistic-identity","tag-mauritius","tag-mauritius-times","tag-mental-decolonisation","tag-national-identity","tag-private-sector","tag-private-tuition","tag-rodrigues","tag-rule-of-law","tag-samad-ramoly","tag-social-inequalities"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p8QzSF-cfD","jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.mauritiustimes.com\/mt\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/09\/Unite-Nationale-3.jpg?fit=1200%2C584&ssl=1","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mauritiustimes.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/47097","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mauritiustimes.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mauritiustimes.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mauritiustimes.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/24"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mauritiustimes.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=47097"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.mauritiustimes.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/47097\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":47098,"href":"https:\/\/www.mauritiustimes.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/47097\/revisions\/47098"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mauritiustimes.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/28654"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mauritiustimes.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=47097"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mauritiustimes.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=47097"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mauritiustimes.com\/mt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=47097"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}