An Excuse For
Marathi Bashing
Shrikant G. Talageri
What I am writing in this article will lead to plenty of criticism from cliché-ridden and hypocritical people. I may be accused of chauvinism, insensitivity, and many other things. But I have never allowed the fear of what people will say to gag me and prevent me from speaking the truth if I feel any matter warrants my comments.
The incident is the following:
https://x.com/ndtv/status/1991550392472334636
The video is self-explanatory: a Marathi boy, in a local crowded train in Mumbai, asked someone to move forward. He asked this in Hindi and not in Marathi. Upon this, four or five (Marathi speaking) others in the train (apparently the actual person asked to move forward seemed to be a Hindi speaking person, and was not further involved in the incident) slapped him and asked him to speak in Marathi, and even tauntingly asked him (when he protested that he himself was Marathi) whether he was ashamed to speak in Marathi. The boy (it is not explained to exactly what extent he was abused or physically manhandled or beaten up) was so traumatized that he got down at the next station, Thane (when he should have actually moved on and got down at the next station, Mulund), and, after he went home, he remained in a state of shock and depression. He narrated the incident to his father. Later, apparently, he committed suicide by hanging.
A horrible incident indeed! It is a fact that violent fights take place in crowded local trains in the peak hours on the most petty of pretexts. Those who have to travel long distance to and from work during peak hours constantly face such situations where individuals or groups of people (even seemingly respectable middle class ones) resort to bullying, abusing and even sometimes physically manhandling or attacking other passengers, and indulge in totally inexcusable “rail rage”. This is a very big matter for those who travel by local trains in Mumbai, and results in unimaginable psychological tensions, mental traumas, health problems, and, in rarer cases, aches and pains or physical injuries.
But in this particular story, apparently the people who attacked this boy were Marathi speaking people (but so was he) and they slapped him because he merely told some other person (apparently not even part of their group) in Hindi to move forward. It must be remembered that seven to eight million people travel by Mumbai local trains every day, and large numbers of them, I would say even the overwhelming majority of them (given the demography of Mumbai today) are non-Marathi speakers (Gujaratis, UP-Biharis, South Indians and speakers of every other Indian language there is). And countless incidents of quarrels and fights are constantly taking place every day in every train. How many of them until now have been because someone spoke in Hindi and not in Marathi? I at least have never heard of a single one. And yet, the whole incident is being discussed from the point of view, not of rising “rail rage”, violence or crime in local trains, or of the urgent need to take strong and effective action against people who indulge in hooliganism in local trains (or indeed anywhere), or of other factors leading to greater and more rage-filled crowds in Mumbai locals, such as the introduction of a large number of frequent AC locals which cause ever increasing and frantic crowds of common people – i.e. non-users of AC trains − on platforms. The whole focus is on what the above news video calls “Killer Language Chauvinism in Maharashtra”.
Naturally this has been immediately grabbed by anti-Marathi people to attack the very idea that people staying in Mumbai should at least learn to speak Marathi.
I am a speaker of Konkani (though, to people in my community, Marathi and Kannada are also practically second-languages). To me, English (the language in which I studied and in which I always read and write) and Hindi (the songs of which are the passion and solace of my life) are also my life-breath, and to me personally, as anyone who reads my books and articles should be aware, every Indian language (whether Sanskrit, Tamil, Santali, Burushaski, Meitei or Andamanese, or any other) is my language, to be loved and fought for. Also, I have written books and articles proving that Konkani is a totally distinct language from Marathi, and not its dialect, and both have distinct origins within the “Indo-Aryan” family. So I don’t care if people choose to attribute chauvinistic motives to what I am writing in this article. In a previous article, “Al Jazeera, Stop Using Children as Weapons!”, I showed how children are used as propaganda weapons especially against Hindus and Jews. In this article, I want to show how any and every incident is used as a propaganda weapon against Marathi being given its rightful place in Mumbai.
I will not bother to read the kind of anti-Marathi comments that are being made in the social media and elsewhere. But anyone can read them for himself/herself.
In my article “Is or Was Konkani a dialect of Marathi”, I wrote:
“Speaking particularly of my own position vis-à-vis Marathi, I have always been (like all Konkani speakers) a lover of Marathi and have resented the indifferent and lackadaisical attitude of Marathi speakers and politicians (however much they may claim otherwise, and however much politics they may do in the name of Marathi) towards their rich language and culture:
1. Mumbai is probably the
only place in India or the world where large numbers of people from other areas
(and speaking other languages) can be born, brought up, and live their entire
lives, without bothering to be able to speak the local language (Marathi)
intelligibly.
2. While regional cultural
bigwigs and politicians in many parts of India (after the start of cable TV in
the early nineties) were busy starting or backing regional language channels in
their states (DMK's Sun TV in 1993, Jaya TV in 1999), it was Maharashtra alone
(though under a BJP-SS "Marathi manoos" government from 1995-1999)
which never bothered to start a private Marathi language channel: the first two
were started by non-Marathi sources: Alpha (now Zee) TV by the Goenkas in 1999
and ETV Marathi (now Colors Marathi) by the Eenadu Telugu group from Andhra in
2000.
3. In regional TV channels,
Marathi channels even today are the only ones where musical competitions (like
Sa Re Ga Ma Pa, etc.) prominently feature Hindi songs equally or more
frequently than the regional language (Marathi) ones.
4. While speakers of other
major regional languages were busy uploading their old regional musical heritage
of songs on youtube from the earliest days, Marathi music with its very rich
heritage of songs was neglected by its speakers. So few songs were being
uploaded (there were only one or two dedicated people doing this) that I myself
started searching out and uploading old Marathi songs on youtube in 2011. [Today,
there is an improvement in the situation, and there are many people doing
this].
5. Which other language, than Marathi, has speakers who would not bother to correct (before it was too late, or even after it was too late) one of its greatest historical heroes having his name wrongly presented in the title of a film made in his name (Tanaji Malusare as "Tanhaji"), whatever the other undoubted merits of that film?”
See the underlined paragraph above (point 1). I defy anyone to conduct a survey of different parts of India or even of the world, other than Mumbai and its surrounding urban cluster, and show another place where massive numbers of people, who have lived there for a major part (or even the whole) of their lifetime, can coolly and proudly claim to not be able to speak the local language when that local language is a major and important language like Marathi.
I will not speculate on whether what happened could have been on a scale such as to make someone commit suicide, and anyway I don’t know all the details of the incident, and only a person who actually personally faces any such situation can be in a position to fully be able to understand the horribleness and traumatic nature of it. But basically it is not an issue of language but of the horribleness of travelling in Mumbai local trains during peak hours. It is not a question of language politics but of criminal attacks and traumatic situations that common people face in the public space or arena. It should not be misused as a weapon to politically victimize the Marathi language.
Thank you very much, Shrikant Ji. Your article is genuinely insightful and reaches the core of the issue. The central idea—that the unfortunate incident arose from the inhuman conditions to which train commuters are subjected due to poor infrastructure and political negligence—is persuasive. Such conditions keep people constantly on edge, and the resulting frustration seeks an outlet. That outlet may manifest as linguistic hostility, regional identity, race, or virtually any other marker.
ReplyDeleteIt is also worth noting that, over the past few decades, certain opportunistic groups have begun masking their anti-social behaviour under the banner of “language patriotism.” This is comparable to the way in which laws like the SC/ST Act or the Domestic Violence Act, though vital and necessary, are occasionally misused to settle personal scores. When a legitimate legal instrument gains wide recognition, it becomes vulnerable to opportunistic exploitation. In the same way, some incidents framed as “language conflicts” may actually stem from unrelated interpersonal or workplace disputes, with language nationalism being invoked only because it provides a socially sanctioned avenue for retaliation.
There have been cases in which members of the All India Services (using this term for jobs -- private or government -- that transfer employees all over India) have faced harassment by language activists—not because they opposed the local language or refused to learn it, but because they happened to be in conflict with a local colleague or a local business. When formal channels offered the disgruntled employee no leverage, language nationalism became a convenient weapon. Such misuse is possible only because language-based claims possess a certain social legitimacy. And admittedly, some of that legitimacy arises from genuine historical grievances. In my own community’s experience, for instance, our language has almost diminished over time due to the imposition of Hindi—a loss that took place decades ago but remains deeply felt.
This brings us to the more difficult question: What is the solution? In one of your essays, you noted that India is linguistically extraordinary, containing four or five of the world’s major language families—essentially 80 to 90 percent of global linguistic diversity. In a country so varied, yet geographically compact, internal migration is inevitable. People will move, and they will carry their languages with them.
So how do we balance linguistic dignity with administrative practicality? If employees in the All India Services—whether in government or the private sector—are expected to learn a new language with each transfer, the responsibility becomes immense. Not everyone is gifted like Koenraad Elst or like yourself (and, I say this with only sincerity; for, I genuine consider both of you among the most gifted pro-Hindu minds of our times), capable of picking up languages rapidly. For many individuals, especially those shifting between unrelated language families, learning a new language in mid-career—amid professional and personal pressures—is extraordinarily difficult.
I recall a webinar during Hindi Pakhwada in which Dr. Koenraad Elst explained the Constituent Assembly debates regarding the national language. He pointed out that Sanskrit and Hindi were tied, and that Sanskrit might have become the link language of India had Dr. Rajendra Prasad not broken the tie in favour of Hindi. Sanskrit, being older and culturally pan-Indian, might have been accepted more gracefully. Languages such as Tamil, Kannada, Bengali, and others possess long and proud histories, and their speakers would understandably resist the elevation of Hindi above their own. Sanskrit, however, might have offered a neutral alternative. Both Maulana Azad and Dr. Ambedkar reportedly supported Sanskrit for precisely this reason.
DeleteWhen asked whether Sanskrit could still serve that role today, Dr. Elst remarked—characteristically—that it is theoretically possible, but that the current political establishment appears uninterested, preferring symbolic gestures (such as rhetorical claims about which language is “oldest”) over substantive linguistic reform.
Perhaps Sanskrit could indeed have been the solution, though that moment seems to have passed. At any rate, the practical reality remains: officers cannot reasonably be expected to learn a new regional language every few years. Therefore, some structured national framework—balancing mutual respect, practical communication needs, and regional autonomy—seems essential.
What are your thoughts on this? I would be very interested to hear your perspective. And once again, thank you for the insightful article.
You are right. Sanskrit (perhaps, in my opinion, a modified Sanskrit with irregular grammatical forms, etc., regularized), would have been the ideal solution, but as you say "that moment seems to have passed". Also, as you say, "For many individuals, especially those shifting between unrelated language families, learning a new language in mid-career—amid professional and personal pressures—is extraordinarily difficult." For all my strong pro-Indian sentiments, I find it extremely painful to have to try to read long government circulars, or instructions on official forms, in Hindi or Marathi. Even my sister-in-law, Marathi-wducated, finds them so.
DeleteIncidentally, as in the case of Partition, note how Ambedkar's position was usually the most sensible and foresight-full (although I didn't know this was his position about Sanskrit).
In any case, being Sanskrit or Hindi (or Marathi) educated need not really be a handicap in general either in achieving success in studying any subject: and Indians shine in technological advancement within India as well as outside. my own case: I don't know if I would have been able to deal with all these subjects so thoroughly if I had not been English educated.
Further, nor would that have guaranteed a greater degree of patriotism or nationalism. Most of the leftist gang of Hindu intellectuals were Urdu or shuddha-Hindi litterateurs, and leftist anti-Hindu films, books and plays always had shuddha-Sanskrit names (or, of course Urdu names like Garm Hawa). I think the trick should be to be culturally immersed in Indian culture (even if English-educated) and to inculcate a strong patriotic and Hindutva attitude.
Correction: i meant "being English rather than Sanskrit or Hindi (or Marathi) educated".
DeleteThank you for sharing your thoughts, Shrikant Ji. Indeed, yes. Dr. Ambedkar’s long-term vision is again on display in this case, as in many others. In fact, there is a BBC interview of Ambedkar on Mahatma Gandhi, recorded circa 1955, available on YouTube. There, too, we see that he analyzed the entire Gandhi–Godse situation in a rather dispassionate manner—unlike several other intellectuals who lean one way or the other, often quite emotionally.
DeleteAnd the linguistic prowess (in Indian languages) of many leftists is well known. Bollywood, the media, and even the literary world, as you rightly pointed out, are good examples of this. Bhisham Sahni (the author of Tamas) may be another example: despite witnessing Partition first-hand, he chose to obscure its anti-kafir motivations by portraying them as individual aberrations in the behavior of Hindus and Sikhs.
The linguistic diversity versus national unity conundrum has a very relevant case study in our neighboring Himalayan nation. Until the 1950s and early 1960s—when Nepal had just broken free from the Rana regime and the Shah dynasty had returned with a more democratic system—the Nepalese parliament had leaders speaking all sorts of languages, including Hindi, Bhojpuri (mainly from the Terai), Nepali, Newari (and other Sino-Tibetan languages), as well as various local tongues. King Mahendra appears to have felt that, in order to strengthen a unique Nepalese identity, a national language was necessary. (This was also the period when he was touring the world and the United Nations to assert that Nepal was a distinct nation despite being sandwiched between two Asian giants.) Thus Nepali was reaffirmed as the single national language of Nepal. All government work, parliamentary speeches, and eventually the Nepalese national identity came to center around Nepali.
The regional languages are still widely used in oral communication and cultural artifacts. But if there is one language that almost every Nepali is sure to know, the answer is clear. This solidified national identity and weakened the position of the regional languages. Yet even half a century later, these regional languages remain very much alive. Perhaps in a geographically larger nation like India, if a solution to the language conundrum were ever to be found, it could be along similar lines—with greater linguistic autonomy for different regions. Anyway, this is perhaps wishful thinking.
Incidentally, returning to linguistic prowess, I realize that Goel Ji, too, was second to none. What struck me most while reading How I Became a Hindu was how he gradually increased his competence in Persian and Sanskrit on his own. And of course he narrates that incident from Direct Action Day in Kolkata, when he was saved because he happened not to be wearing a dhoti that day and because of his fluency in chaste Urdu.
Regarding the idea of if Sanskrit were to be a pan-India link language, regularizing irregular verbs and ironing out exceptions would indeed be extremely helpful. And, being the intellectual heirs of Pāṇini (Goel Ji's letter to you reminded me how huge his contributions are), I am sure Hindus could find the scholarship to accomplish that—if there were sufficient political will without the latent urge to pander to vote banks (and that is a very big “if”). Perhaps the core framework of Sanskrit could be retained, with Esperanto-like borrowings from major Indian languages. In any case, it remains a significant if.
DeleteThank you for the information about Ambedkar's BBC interview on Gandhi and Godse. I will check it out.
DeleteFor all my passion about Konkani and my desire for it to be a vehicle of rich dramas and studies, I cannot feel that it should be the official language of any territory or the medium of instruction. So, after losing the opportunity in 1947, I really don't have any expectations or strong passion for the complete replacement of English with an Indian language. Of course people educated in an India language can still be able to study English and make use of it as I have done for nationalist purposes. And there are countries like Switzerland (I think) where two or more official languages remain well-known. And of course, we have the glorious example of Koenraad Elst who is equally at home in English, German, Dutch/Flemish and French, and I don't know how many other languages.