India’s Hindi Controversy
Despite recent controversy, the Indian government is unlikely to make Hindi the “national” language.
Can a country with no dominant language have one national language? This question is something that India – with its hundreds of tongues and over a thousand dialects – has always faced.
“If one language can unite the country today, it is the most widely-spoken Hindi language,” declared Indian Home Minister Amit Shah on September 14. The occasion was right: Shah shared this opinion on September 14, which happens to be Hindi Divas (Hindi Day). But Shah received a lot of flak for this comment.
Hindi is not India’s “national” language. Officially, the republic does not have one. The country also does not have one language which would be equally known to all. While Hindi is indeed the most widely-spoken tongue, and is dominant across a large part of northern and central India, it is not spoken in many regions (such as in the South and the Northeast), and vehemently rejected in few of them. It is also not even the language of a majority, as, once again, India does not have one. As of the 2011 census, 528 million Indians declared Hindi as their mother-tongue (if we count the dialects), but that is still less than half of the country’s population (44 percent, to be exact).
Shah’s declaration awoke old demons. Such controversies had been much more severe in the 1950s and 60s, the first decades of independence, when, like pioneers, politicians and citizens of the time had to shape the system of the country, including its set-up of official languages. In a country so diverse, no simple solution would have been satisfactory to everybody. English was the official language left by the British government, but for obvious reasons many disliked the idea of continuing with a colonial language, a symbol of oppression, as a binding force in a free Asian country. But then as now, there was no majority language and Hindi/Hindustani was the most-widely spoken tongue. The choice between English and Hindi was a choice between a colonial residue that was also a “neutral” language, in the sense that it wasn’t anybody’s mother-tongue (so everybody had to learn it), and a language that was Indian, but the selection of which would have given an edge to its native speakers over others.
Faced with stiff opposition, the policymakers of that time opted for a compromise. In 1950, it was decided that India was to have two “official” languages – Hindi and English – and the latter would be only a temporary, subsidiary one until Hindi would become known widely enough to be accepted as the only language (but that never happened). It was also stressed that Hindi would be “official,” and not “national.” Moreover, the Indian Constitution listed 14 “constitutional” languages -- the languages officially listed in the eighth schedule of the constitution has grown to 22 in the intervening years. As India is a federation, the states were free to choose any from this list (and more than one if they chose) as their official languages.
Compromise-based formulas were also worked out when it came to the language of education (though these were later contested as well). On the national level, English and Hindi remained two more or less equal choices. A person may, for instance, choose in which language to take the Civil Services Examination: either English or one of the Indian languages of found on the eighth schedule.
There are reasons to understand why the Home Minister (and many members of his party) would like Hindi to play a more significant role. Apart from ideological reasons – or, more simply, apart from the fact that most of the voters of the ruling party are Hindi speakers – it must be conceded that the language is the sole top contender (other than English, of course).
First, the next most-spoken language in India is Bengali, which with its 97 million native speakers, is the mother-tongue of barely 8 percent of Indians (as per the 2011 census). Second, the number of Hindi speakers in India is on the rise, in both a proportional and demographic sense. Hindi is spoken in some of the country’s most populous and growing states, such as Uttar Pradesh. Third, the knowledge of Hindi (as a non-native language) is growing too, and in this regard it is certainly below the 50 percent threshold. While it is hard to assess how many people understand and speak Hindi in India (not only as their mother-tongue), the number may be around 800 million in country of 1.2 billion. Fourth, the opposition to Hindi is steadily declining. Shah’s recent declaration did cause protests, but these were nowhere as violent and dramatic as those of the 1960s, when in Tamil Nadu some people burned themselves in protest against the imposition of Hindi.
Having said that, it must be remembered that despite an initial solution of keeping English as a subsidiary language for 15 years, in 1965 it was decided that it will remain as the second official language. This virtually handed over a veto power to those opposing Hindi. The compromises of the past are a part of the status quo, and their infringement could cause a real clash even now.
For the past five years, the government of Narendra Modi has not imposed Hindi on India in any groundbreaking way. While it has promoted its official use in various ways, this has not amounted to any revolutionary changes. On the other hand, Modi’s cabinet proved itself capable of undertaking risky and controversial steps, such as demonetization, air strikes on terrorist camps in Pakistan, or recent changes in the status of Jammu and Kashmir; it also has a stable majority to proceed with more such moves.
Apart from the present controversy, the most important question we should ask ourselves is: What would making Hindi the “one” language of India really mean? The question goes far beyond branding Hindi a “national,” instead of an “official” language – this would actually be a comparatively easy among all the tough steps to be taken in this regard. It would also be purely symbolic without any other reform.
Will the government make Hindi the only language of parliamentary or Supreme Court proceedings? This does not seem probable, as people in both bodies represent groups from across the country. Members of Parliament speak various languages, while the proceedings of the Supreme Court are in English. Will New Delhi force Hindi to be the official language of all Indian states? This would violate the spirit of Indian federalism and would be guaranteed to spark an uproar. Will the government make Hindi a mandatory education language in all of India’s states? This was one step Modi’s cabinet was apparently considering in its National Education Policy Draft this year, but it has apparently withdrawn the idea after facing discontent. Will it make Hindi the only language of the Civil Services Examination? This would put those that do not speak it as their mother-tongue at a huge disadvantage. Whichever step Modi’s government takes in this direction, if any, it will surely create controversies. It is most likely the current compromise will be retained.
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Krzysztof Iwanek writes for The Diplomat’s Asia Life section. He is the chair of the Asia Research Center at the National Defense University at Warsaw.