Regionalism, a complex subset of ultranationalism, occasionally rears its head in a troubling manner through language discord. This conflict creates friction, standing in stark contrast to the spirit of cosmopolitanism that ought to define our vibrant cities. These urban spaces, serving as magnets for job seekers from every corner of the country, thrive on inclusivity. Embracing this melting pot of cultures and languages is essential for managing regional rivalries.
The latest display of this hyper-regionalism was in Mumbai, where the Maharashtra Navnirman Sena (MNS), which fancies itself as the torchbearer of Marathi Manoos, sparked the language debate in its trademark manner by beating up people who refused to speak Marathi.
The locals versus outsiders debate in Mumbai has smouldered for decades, but it has never hindered the daily existence of the millions who navigate this vibrant city of dreams. The question that begs an answer is, why is this contentious issue being rekindled at this moment?
The obvious answer is the upcoming Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation (BMC) polls. Whether it is a genuine fight for Marathi pride or a political strategy, it is for anybody to guess the real motive behind the latest row.
The Thackeray cousins, Shiv Sena (UBT) chief Uddhav Thackeray and MNS chief Raj Thackeray, have united on this issue, while the BJP denies accusations of imposing Hindi. The Congress and the NCP have taken a cautious approach so far. While political analysts debate the tipping point of this conflict and its implications for Mumbai’s future, critics argue that this may be more about control of the BMC’s large budget than language issues. So, is it actually for Marathi Asmita, or is it a desperate move for the survival of the Thackeray cousins? Consider the implications of the Maharashtra language war beyond the state.
BJP MP from Jharkhand Nishikant Dubey has gone to the extent of saying if the Thackerays step out of the state and go to Bihar, Uttar Pradesh or Tamil Nadu, they would be “thrashed repeatedly” (tumko patak patak ke marange).
Amid the language war, an old video of Bal Thackeray, the late founder of the Shiv Sena, has resurfaced, in which he asserts, “I may be Marathi in Maharashtra, but I am Hindu in Hindustan.” In the video, Bal Thackeray, adorned with a saffron shawl, emphasises the need to prioritise Hindutva over linguistic identities. The timing of the video’s reposting coincided with Uddhav and Raj holding a “victory rally” in Mumbai, celebrating the rollback of state orders that mandated Hindi as the default third language for primary school students.
Uddhav, seeking to assert his father’s legacy amid a split faction led by Eknath Shinde, vowed to oppose the BJP’s imposition of Hindi and called for unity among the Marathi populace. More vocally assertive, Raj warned against any threat to Maharashtra, linking the Union Government’s three-language policy to a broader agenda to separate Mumbai from the state.
The controversy around the “Speak Marathi” initiative intensified after an April order made Hindi compulsory for primary education, sparking protests from pro-Marathi groups.
Although the order was revised, Hindi was the default third language under stringent conditions. Tensions escalated into violence when members of the MNS attacked individuals for not speaking Marathi, which elicited public outrage and highlighted the ongoing strife as the Maharashtra Government navigated the delicate balance between Central policies and regional sentiments, especially in an election year.
The “language wars” in India are not a new phenomenon. They refer to historical and ongoing conflicts surrounding the imposition or adoption of specific languages, notably Hindi, as a national or official language, often at the expense of other regional languages. These conflicts have their roots in India’s colonial past and continue to shape the country’s political and social dynamics. British language policies in India, including the shift from Persian to Hindi and Urdu in the north and the subsequent introduction of English, laid the groundwork for later language-based conflicts.
Language has been used as a tool for political mobilisation, with regional parties leveraging language-based grievances to build support and challenge the dominance of Hindi. India is a multilingual country with a rich diversity of languages. The fear of linguistic imperialism and the desire to protect regional languages are central to the language wars. The historical preference for Urdu in the north, rather than Hindi in Devanagari script, contributed to the Hindi-Urdu controversy, which involved communal and political dimensions.
As per the 2011 Census, while 43.63 per cent of Indians say Hindi is their mother tongue, it is spoken by less than five per cent of the population in 12 states and UTs, including Tamil Nadu, Kerala, Andhra Pradesh and Karnataka.
The latest language war is not only restricted to Maharashtra. The Modi government is also locked in a bitter language dispute with the Tamil Nadu government over accusations that New Delhi is trying to impose Hindi on schools in the southern state - a charge that the Centre has denied.
In April, Prime Minister Narendra Modi had even mocked leaders from the state government of the regional DMK party. “These ministers from Tamil Nadu talk about pride in their language but always write letters to me and sign off in English. Why don’t they use the Tamil language?” he said, adding, “Where is their Tamil pride?”
In 1968, a national education policy (NEP) formulated by the Indira Gandhi-led Congress government introduced the three-language formula. Centred on a Hindi-English fulcrum, the policy called for teaching a southern language in Hindi-speaking states and a regional language in non-Hindi-speaking states as the third language. Since then, the three-language formula has been an issue of intense dispute, which makes one wonder whether language is just a communication tool or a weapon for our political gains.