Hindi vs Marathi and the Contest Over Indian Identity

The Diplomat

2 days ago

Opposition to the National Education Policy in Maharashtra isn't just about language – it's a flashpoint in India's struggle between centralization and cultural pluralism.
In recent weeks, the Indian state of Maharashtra has found itself at the center of a growing controversy over the National Education Policy (NEP) 2020.
At the heart of the debate is a clause that reaffirms the 'three-language formula' in schools: children must learn three languages from the first year of school. Typically, these would be the regional language, English, and one additional Indian language.
Although the policy formally allows any Indian language to serve as the third, Hindi, especially given its dominant presence in central administration, popular media, and national examinations, tends to fill that role by default.
In Maharashtra, the issue returned to the headlines after an order by the Bharatiya Janata Party-led state government to introduce Hindi as the compulsory third language from classes 1-4 in Marathi and English medium schools.
This privileging of Hindi has sparked concerns in non-Hindi-speaking regions and reignited an old debate: is the NEP merely encouraging multilingualism, or is it reinforcing a creeping centralization under a 'Hindi-Indian' identity?
The dominant regional language of Maharashtra, Marathi, is closely tied to the state's cultural and political identity. The move to introduce Hindi as the mandatory third language by the government was immediately cast by the opposition Shiv Sena faction led by former Chief Minister Uddhav Thackeray as an attempted imposition of a linguistic-cultural hierarchy by the center and a needless burden on young students.
Language has long been a fault line in Mumbai politics. The Shiv Sena, a party originally formed to champion Marathi interests, rose to prominence by demanding job quotas and cultural primacy for local speakers in the 1960s and '70s. Although it later adopted a broader Hindu nationalist agenda, its linguistic roots continue to shape Maharashtra's political landscape.
Looming Elections
The debate is especially charged in light of the upcoming, long-overdue municipal elections in Mumbai. The term of the elected corporators ended in March 2022, after which the civic body has been run by an unelected administrator.
The Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation (BMC), which governs India's wealthiest civic body, is a high-stakes prize. Control over the BMC means influence over infrastructure, education, and symbolic aspects of urban life such as language on public signage and in school curricula. Opposition parties, including factions of the Shiv Sena and regional allies, have seized on the NEP as evidence of the nationally dominant BJP's insensitivity to Maharashtra's linguistic and cultural identity.
The BJP thus finds itself walking a tightrope. As the national architect of the NEP and the main proponent of Hindi as a unifying national language, the party is under pressure to defend its policy. Yet in Maharashtra, it risks alienating regional allies and voters if it appears to be undermining Marathi.
Recent statements from BJP leaders suggest a softening of tone, offering reassurances of consultation and phased implementation. Whether this reflects genuine reconsideration or electoral strategy remains to be seen.
Beyond the corridors of government, the three-language policy has stirred tensions at the grassroots. Parties from the fringes of electoral politics like the Maharashtra Navnirman Sena (MNS), an offshoot of the Shiv Sena, have revived their campaign against Hindi-speaking migrants, particularly from states such as Uttar Pradesh and Bihar. Their tactics – ranging from vandalizing non-Marathi signage to public calls, under threat of violence, for linguistic loyalty – have drawn criticism but also found resonance among some voters who feel culturally sidelined.
Southern Concerns
The implications extend beyond Maharashtra. Southern states, particularly Tamil Nadu, have long resisted the imposition of Hindi. In the 1960s, anti-Hindi agitations in the state evolved into a powerful movement for Dravidian identity and regional autonomy. Tamil Nadu has since maintained a two-language policy: Tamil and English. This defiance is not merely about language; it is a broader stand against the perceived cultural and political centralization from New Delhi.
States such as Kerala and Andhra Pradesh have adopted more flexible approaches, but they too resist the notion that Hindi should become the de facto national language. Their concern is that a truly multilingual India must operate on the principle of symmetry: no region should be expected to accommodate others without reciprocity.
At the core of this resistance is a sense that Hindi's growing dominance – fostered by media, government policy, and migration of Hindi-speakers to other parts of the country – is less the result of organic cultural exchange and more a product of institutional power. Critics argue that the NEP's language policy, while cloaked in the language of inclusion, reinforces existing hierarchies rather than dismantling them.
The debate is unfolding against the backdrop of broader demographic and political shifts. After 2026, parliamentary representation in India is expected to be redrawn based on population. Southern states, which have successfully curbed population growth and achieved stronger human development indicators, could lose seats in Parliament while more populous and economically weaker northern states gain seats. This risks deepening feelings of marginalization, turning language and education into flashpoints for larger questions of federalism and fairness.
Language vs Dialect
Interestingly, even within the so-called Hindi heartland, the notion of a unified linguistic identity is tenuous. The Census of India, 2011 (the latest available) recorded more than 50 'mother tongues' under the heading of Hindi. This includes Bhojpuri, Awadhi, Magahi, and Brajbhasha, all of which have ancient and vibrant literary traditions and significant speaker bases. Yet they are accorded the status of dialects rather than languages and folded into the generic category of 'Hindi' along with Haryanvi, Rajasthani, Garhwali, and Kangri, among others.
If Maharashtra and the southern states succeed in defending regional languages, it may inspire similar assertions in the North demanding formal recognition for these often-overlooked tongues.
Such movements could challenge the notion of Hindi as India's unifying linguistic thread. Its current dominance is partly the result of its administrative status and cultural projection, not necessarily broad consensus. The resurgence of linguistic identities across India could upend the assumption that a single language can bind a country as diverse as India.
Ultimately, the Maharashtra language row underscores that India's celebrated linguistic diversity is also under constant negotiation. The three-language formula, once intended to bridge divides, now reveals them.
Maharashtra's resistance is part of a wider conversation about how India defines unity: through imposed sameness or sustained plurality.
As more states reconsider their place within the federal system, language could become both a tool for political mobilization and a test of the Indian republic's democratic character.
Originally published under Creative Commons by 360info™.